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ichorai · 1 year

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amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)

track two of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader

synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

words ; 4.7k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him

main masterlist.

The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout.

“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.

Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle.

Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready.

“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.

The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through.

“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him.

And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips.

The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie.

Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were.

The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach.

“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”

Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes.

His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.

“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”

Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong.

Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.

The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.

“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”

The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath.

“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically.

The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep.

“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”

Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”

Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude.

“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”

Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale.

“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”

“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.

Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.

“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”

Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince.

“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him.

Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic.

“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”

“Jace,” he softly said.

You blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”

A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet.

“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”

You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself.

Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing.

Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you.

“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.

Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”

Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”

To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”

“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame.

Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room.

You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.

The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.

“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”

Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”

“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”

Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”

You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”

“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”

“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. “That would mean the world to me, it really would.”

The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread.

“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”

At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened.

He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”

You nodded, eyes wide.

“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you.

“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…”

Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours.

The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift.

Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.

And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you.

It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else.

Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.

“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall.

With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.

Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner.

The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.

“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”

His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.

“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.

The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent.

You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.

And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.

“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed.

Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”

A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck.

His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.

A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.

“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted.

Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need.

His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.

“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit.

Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.

Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”

Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure.

“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure.

He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips.

“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.

Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.

“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.”

Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.

“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”

“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock.

He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust.

You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit.

The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream.

Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.

Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses.

He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.

Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.

You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids.

“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”

You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.

The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone.

Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?

Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before.

Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.

My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven. Yours, Jace

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sstan-hoe · 1 year

Text

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — aemond targaryen × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Aemond wants you to ride with him on Vaghar, but you always avoid it until he makes a deal with you, you take a ride with him and in return he does the thing with the tongue you like so much

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — oral (female receiving), fingering/eating out, I'm not sure a little violence? Like they're riding on a dragon and there's fire, swearing

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — the Targaryens just have this special something...currently I'm interested in Aemond and Daemon but I would also consider writing for Dany, Nyra and Haelena but we gotta see how you like my writing haha, follow @sstanhoe-updates if you don't wanna miss me posting! like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!! It's short but because I wanted to see if people like it

“No, no I refuse to indulge in this kind of…thing,” your back was turned to Aemond with the means to walk back to the red keep if you needed.

Your betrothed only chuckled, catching your arm to turn you into his chest. “Don't you trust me?” his question was stupid and you were well aware that he was just trying to tease you. “You have the largest dragon in the world that could eat you and you want me to climb in it? What if I fall or die, we are not even married yet,” you had good arguments, that much had Aemond to admit but he could be very convincing.

“How about a deal? If you fly with me I will do the thing with my tongue that you like so much.”

Your ears perked up at his statement. As much as you didn't want to give in and give him the satisfaction that he knew you.

“Fine, but don't you dare do anything crazy!” You warned him before striding over to Vaghar, the old girl was already familiar with you.

Aemond followed you with a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. It surprised him every day how had no fear of Vaghar but still refused to ride with him at every given opportunity.

“Well, what now? You wanted this so come on and let's get this over with,” you snapped at him. Aemond raised his eyebrows, closing the gap you caused. He pulled you flush against his chest and pinched your inner thigh through your gown, “keep in mind that there is something you want from me.”

A smirk tucked at your lips, “oh, well, if you don't do the tongue thing then I guess I won't do the riding thing….” Aemond's eyes widened, his mind was running wild. He didn't know if you said those words on purpose like this or not – no forget that, you always knew what you were saying. You cocked your eyebrow in challenge, Aemond shook his head and laid his hands on your waist.

“You little minx, start climbing,” he instructed and you obeyed, smirking until you sat on top of Vaghar and realized what you had actually agreed on.

“Sōvēs!” Aemond commands Vaghar and the dragon takes off. You pressed your head against his back while your hands clawed around his waist holding on for dear life as Vaghar began flapping her wings. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” your voice got higher and higher with every 'oh god'.

Aemond let Vaghar glide over the water, his right hand gently eased your hands free and interlocked your right hand with his.

The feeling of his hand comforted you. “You can open your eyes, my love,” his soothing voice called through your ear. You didn't notice that you closed your eyes, it was a reflex. Slowly you opened your eyes, what you saw was endless miles of water, not a single ship and everything was peaceful.

Your betrothed watched you closely, he didn't dare to say a word. Aemond feared you would realize what you were doing and go back to being scared.

“Ivestragī's jiōragon arlī, uēpa hāedar,” at the sound of Aemond speaking high Valyrion you turned your head. You never had the chance to learn Valyrion and therefore always had to ask Aemond what he was saying or what anyone else said. “Do not worry my love, we will ride back now.”

You lean your head back against Aemond and squeeze his hand. The man truly had a gift, he knew your thoughts before you could say them out aloud.

Suddenly Vaghar picked up speed and turned her body causing you to grip Aemond tightly once again. You screamed loudly which only amused Aemond. “Dracarys!” The blonde called out. Now that word you knew very well. Vaghar opened her maw and let the fire run free.

Aemond flew directly through the fire and you thought this was going to be your death.

Thankfully nothing happened, but that only sealed Aemond's downfall.

As you landed in front of the Dragon Pit you climbed off of Vaghar without hesitation. Standing in front of her face you took a deep breath, “you are awesome but we will never see each other under these circumstances again and you, you better work good with that tongue!” at the end of the sentence you turned to Aemond with a glare.

Back on the Red Keep, you lay in your shared bed with the Prince, him on his knees between your thighs.

“Aemond, my love could you please finally touch me?” you whined as Aemond was still admiring your pussy, how drenched it was for him.

“A deal is a deal,” with that he licked a long stripe along your folds, tasting your sweet wetness. He almost buries his head completely in you but leaves a little space for his fingers.

Slowly he eased one finger inside your puffy walls, your Prince always made sure to stretch you properly beforehand. His tongue devoured your clit while he added another finger, dipping them into your cunt and pumping them in and out. A low moan left your lips as Aemond hit your g-spot.

It felt like an eternity of pleasure that you would never want to end.

Releasing his fingers he leaned his head in, “after such an eventful day, I think you deserve to come,” before you could register his words Aemond dived in deep.

His tongue forced its way in and out of you, licking your leaking hole. Pure ecstasy flooded through your veins as his nose flicked on your clit.

Loud moans filled your chambers, your hips buckled under Aemonds touch and threatened to leave his tongue but his hand gripped your thighs to push you into him as if that man didn't need air. The knot in your stomach tightened and exploded the moment Aemond added two fingers to curl inside you, “oh god Aemond! Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” you cursed as your orgasm washed over you.

Aemond pushed you through your high and then cocked his head up with a smirk, “did I make good on my deal?” he asked in a sly tone.

“No, now get back down there,” was what you said before gripping his roots and pushing him back against your pussy. If that man didn't love you – and enjoy eating you out – then this would have gone the wrong way.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x black reader #my one eyed prince 💫🐲

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ladystarksneedle · 6 months

Text

A fool for you

Aemond x niece reader

Summary: A princess longs for more, mourning a loss through time

Word count: 980

Next>

Masterlist

“Final tribute, to the health of my nephews”

The words still ring in her ears as he storms out of the hall, leaving her behind yet again. She locks eyes with the woman in front, a flicker of understanding passing between them before she rushes to follow, her mother's pleas falling on deaf ears.

She doesn't call out to him as she sees him retreating into the depths of the Keep, knowing his uncanny awareness of her pursuit. As she rounds the corner trying to close the distance between them he whirls around trapping her against the wall nearby.

“What part of go to your chambers do you not understand” he growls shoving her further “Or do you wish to continue this ordeal further.”

“Keligon ziry” she pleads looking up at him. (stop it)

“Jikagon arlī. Gaoman daor jaelagon naejot ȳdragon naejot ao” he says releasing her with a frustrated grunt, lip quivering in anger. (go back, I do not wish to speak to you)

“You will not escape me qyybor, not like this,” she speaks, reaching for his arm as he moves away. “Not after what you've said tonight.”

“Do you wish to dispute the truth yet again” he laughs cruelly “It is plain for all to see.”

“Why didn't you include me in your toast then” she counters.

“Is that what bothers you? My exclusion of you in a jest” he smirks incredulously.

“Your dismissal of me, yes, continuing as if I don't exist.”

“Don't”

“Don't what” she exclaims, closing the distance between them “Why are you so intent on breaking whatever peace we may have between our families.”

“You are a fool to think there'll ever be anything but contempt between us”

“There was long ago,” she says, searching his eye for the memories that haunt her.

“What do you have to say for this” he grits, removing the eyepatch adorning his face.

She looks at the injured socket in pain, brilliant blue glinting in the dark.

“Iksan vaoreznuni” she says tears filling her eyes. (I am sorry)

“I do not want your pity” he spits, “The peace you pray for is long gone. There can be nothing that can bring it back.”

“I did not wish for this.”

“You did nothing to stop it either” he says scornfully.

“I was a child” she all but screams “We were children, I cared for you, I didn't know what to do.”

“You made your choice years ago, now you must live with it” he says dismissively, her name on his tongue cutting her just as deeply.

“Kostilus” she says pulling his face towards her “ You've known what is in my heart since we were young, I wish for you to see it still.”

“Ȳdra daor gaomagon bisa naejot aōla. Nothing good can come out of this” (don't do this to yourself)

“Are you concerned about the goodness in my actions now?”

“Someone must keep you in check,” he says reluctantly, leaning towards her.

“I've missed you” she whispers as he touches his forehead to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist. She feels him hum in response as he pulls her closer.

“I've heard you are to be betrothed” he whispers against her, stroking her head as he speaks.

“So are you, if the rumors are true. Another task you'd excel at” she says, voice tinged with jealousy. She feels him grin against her in pleasure as she scoffs in turn.

“Where are you to be sent?”

“Trying to extract more from me? I'm not as much of a fool as you think I am”

“Only in matters of the heart then” he says, pulling back to look at her.

She gulps in response as she looks at his face tinged with remorse and awe.

“I wish you'd feel the same”

“And it seems you've proven me wrong byka mittys” he chuckles. The name stings as she feels a tear slip past. (little fool)

“Must I say it now” he says, wiping it off swiftly.

She looks at him in earnest before burying her head in his chest, rumbling with laughter.

“They won't have meleqeldlie cakes there, it's too cold for anything good to thrive.”

She whips her head back in response, staring at him in confusion.

“Orange cakes” she whispers, realization dawning on her. “They think I-”

“Love lemon” he finishes. “A simple mistake yet it has caught on quite well, has it not”

“You remember”

“Well, a six year old girl clinging to my leg demanding I give up my share lest she stop crying isn't something you'd forget.”

“There are many six year olds running about now”

“None as troublesome as you” he smirks.

“I remember it differently. I didn't cry that much, merely asked for them”

“Demanded”

“Asked politely”

“There was nothing polite about your request”

“You admit it was a request then”

“A plea rather”

“I accept”

He hums in response as she chuckles happily “It is my first memory of us at that dreaded feast. I know there have been more but that has remained with me still, not because of those orange cakes and thank you for that” she laughs “But because you were the only one who was kind to me, who checked up on me when everyone left” she says tearfully “I am sorry”

The word hangs between them, as he gazes back at her “Consider it my tribute to you”

“Orange for every time you think of me?” she giggles wiping her eyes.

“Orange, for when you haunt me the most”

She clutches the scroll in her palms, pressing her nails deeper into her broken skin as she sits before the hearth. The tears on her cheeks glinting in the flames ahead as they dance mockingly in orange, a fitting tribute for her brother lost to the seas.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

#house of the dragon #zae's fics #aemond fics #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x niece!reader #hotd imagine #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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tobitofunction · 4 months

Text

The pact of ice and fire part 5

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6

Spoiler to future events of house of the dragon

"I don't know if I can do this anymore," Sarah said playing with the red fabric of her/your dress,"It is only for a short while," you said adjusting your riding gear,"What if Cerwyn noticed something?","He's a man, they really notice anything," you said placing the hood over your head,"Very funny but I'm serious"," It be fine just don't look him into the eyes and don't play with your hair," you said pushing her hand away from the wig,"Trust me everything will go well" you said patting her shoulder making her sigh,"Why do you feel like helping anyway? Cregan can handle himself" she sighed again,"I don't trust my Uncle nor his dragon","More of a reason for you stay here -","He won't hurt me but he will hurt Cregan," you said cutting her off,"How do you know he won't hurt you?","He just won't, he already has the label of a Kinslayer, he doesn't want to add to that and he....he just won't hurt me" you said making Sarah lift a brow,"Your leaving something out", you didn't answer but just walked towards the door,"Enjoy your day Princess" I smiled making Sarah sigh and sit down.

Tyraxes lifted her head," rytsas riña, ready naejot sōvegon arlī (hello girl, ready to fly again)" you said caressing her neck making her growl gently, her snout gently touching you which made you smile. You carefully climbed onto her and tugged at her reins making her take off.

In the distance, Cregan spotted the green army, Aemond's beast lying behind him. She was like 10 times the size of your Dragon, he could feel the anxiety rising within his men after seeing the beast. Aemond walked over to them, hand on his sword, "Lord Stark, it's good to see you still in one piece" he said as Cregan got off his horse,"Let these men go Prince Aemond" Cregan said calmly, he was slightly taller than Aemond and bulkier as well," Are you ready to swear your alliance to my brother than? The rightful heir to Iron Throne" Cregan smiled,"I have already sworn my alliance to the rightful heir my Prince, my house swore to Queen Rhaenyra and I will hold my oath" he said making Aemond glare at him, "So you are a traitor to the realm than", "The only traitor I see are you, taking the crown of the rightful heir and killing her son" Cregan said making Aemond hand tighten around his sword, "Ser Criston execute-" he was cut off with Vaghar growling at something, the wind changed as well, rustling of the trees made him and everyone look at the direction of where the Winter Wolves came when suddenly a white beast appeared between the dark leaves. Cregan eyes widened at seeing you and so did Aemond's, Tryaxes let out a growl at Vaghar circling the place before landing behind the Winter Wolves with a thud that made the earth shake.

You got off Tyraxes, Cregan's men making space for you to walk between them each of them bowing their head as you walked past, "What are you doing here?" Cregan hissed,"Preventing the Winter Wolves from becoming dinner" you said looking up at your husband, "Bolton take my wife back to the north" Cregan instructed," I wouldn't do that my lords Tyraxes is rather protective of me" you said making Bolton stop in his tracks, you looked around the crowed and spotted a familiar face Harold the bastard boy you danced with at the tavern, you gave him a smile and nod which he returned. You then focused on your Uncle," adding another vīlībāzma crime naejot aōha brōzi gÿbor (adding another war crime to your name Uncle?)" you said,"skorkydoso iksis bisa iā crime? (how is this a crime?)","īlis captured during iā arghugon se daor during vīlībāzma (they were captured during a hunt and not during war)" he sighed and looked you up and down,"Emā grown pār se mōrī jēda nyke ūndan ao (You have grown since the last time I saw you)" Aemond said stepping closer to you, Cregan had his hand on Ice the whole time eyeing the situation carefully,"Ēdan naejot aōha lentor ēza ilzitan īlva ezīmagon iā vīlībāzma (I had to your family has thrown us into a war)", Aemond clicked his tongue,"Aegon iksis se drēje dārilaros, kepa vestās bona va zȳhon deathbed (Aegon is the rightful heir, father said that on his deathbed)" you rolled your eyes,"Aegon iksis mērī se drēje dārilaros hen issare iā jomōzare, grandsire dōrī changed zȳhon mind nūmāzma ñuha muña issare se drēje dārilaros (Aegon is only the rightful heir of being a drunk, Grandsire never changed his mind about my mother being the rightful heir)" you hissed,"Lo ao pāsagon aegon should sagon dārys iksā hae doru-borto hae se rest hen aōha lentor (If you believe Aegon should be King you are as dumb as the rest of your family)" Aemond rushed towards and grabbed you by the neck, you heard sword unsheathed behind you which made the Greens follow,"Ao won't ōdrikagon nyke (You won't hurt me)", you said calmly,"skorkydoso glaesā sīr sure (how are you so sure)" Aemond said,"lo ao jeldan nyke morghe ao would emagon gaomagon ziry se bantis ñuha visery's morghūltan, se bantis skoriot ao begged nyke naejot dīnagon ao sīr kostan sagon save hen se greens (if you wanted me dead you would have done it the night my Visery's died, the night where you begged me to marry you so I can be save from the greens)" Aemond left go off you,"ivestragī se hostages jikagon ao won't jiōragon mirros hen zirȳ Se ao gīmigon bona (let the hostages go you won't get anything from them and you know that)" Aemond looked at you as Cregan carefully approached you,"Let the hostages go" Aemond ordered,"ao won't sagon able naejot mīsagon aōha zokla forever, mērī iā zaldrīzes kostagon satisfy another zaldrīzes (you won't be able to protect your wolf forever, only a dragon can satisfy another dragon)" he said before he walked away.

You arrived back at Winterfell, you rode with Cregan with Tryaxes flying above you, Cregan didn't say much on the way back. He just held you close."Princess?" Cerwyn said,"Hello Cerwyn" you answered as Cregan helped you off the horse,"But I just...you were just in the Godswood and before-","It's Sarah, my friend, the two pulled off a stunt so my dear wife can defy my orders", "The hostages are alive aren't they and there was no bloodshed" you countered making Cregan huff," Princess?" it was Bolton,"I like to give you my gratitude, my son, my heir is alive because of you. I'm truly sorry for underestimating you," he said bowing his head, his son doing the same,"I appreciate it, Lord Bolton," you said with a smile. Cregan suddenly grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards your shared room," Promise me not do something like that again, I was worried he was going to kill you. Men like Aemond are dangerous" You sighed and touched Cregan's cheek,"But I won't lie that I enjoyed seeing you in that way- taking charge" he said cupping your cheek his thump making you look up at him, "And that outfit, makes we want to do things to you" he whispered, "Than do them lord husband, I'm not very patient at the moment" you said standing on your tip toes, his large hand wrapped around your neck his thump tracing your jaw, "I want to punish you for disobeying me but I feel like only be punishing myself" he said before kissing you, his lips were ice cold, his other hand lifted you from the ground making your legs wrap around his waist.

He carried you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the furs. His hands wandered down to your riding clothing, fingers squeezing themselves in the space between buttons,"I hope you aren't to attached to this" he said before ripping the coat open,"I think it's time to put a pup in you" he said making you moan.

*timeskip*

You traced Cregan's scars gently, as he pressed soft kisses to your temple,"I'm thankful for what you did but don't put yourself in danger like that again" he said, you hummed in response when a knock on the door made Cregan sit up. Cregan pulled the blanket over your body, "Come in", "I'm sorry my Lord but a letter from House Tully arrived, they need our help in the Riverlands" Cerwyn said keeping his age on Cregan, who sighed in response," Send word Rodrick Dustin of House Barrowton, he should bring a small amount of the Winter Wolves to the Riverlands to aid them in the fights against the greens","Why won't you go?" you asked sitting up making the fur blanket fall from your chest," I'm waiting for the word of your mother, I will save my energy and most of my men for when it's needed the most" he said pulling the fur back up,"Also, I need to be here when Winter comes" he said cupping your cheek gently,"All right" you said softly.

After Cerwyn left you slowly got dressed again, you kneeled down and looked at your torn flight jacket, "I make a new one for you, don't worry" he said taking the torn piece of clothing away from you,"I wasn't.....how bad is winter here?" you asked,"It's usually fine, the hot springs underneath the castle keeps us warm", you hummed, "Is there anywhere I could keep Tyraxes warm? It's cold enough for her" Cregan thought for a second,"By the hot springs underneath the castle, she is small enough to fit through the entrance and caves are massive enough after the tunnel" he suggested, "Food is the only thing I'm worried about" he added, you licked your lips," We figure something out" you said tracing your fingers over his bare skin,"Don't tempt me wife" he said grab g your wrist gently, "I have some business to attend too, why don't you go to Winter's town for fabric, take Sarah with you"

"I'm surprised my brother didn't react harsher to us disobeying his command," Sarah said tightening her coat,"I disobeyed him" you corrected, "But I assisted, if it was a different Lord they would have my head-", "No they wouldn't, you are my family now, even if you weren't I won't let anyone hurt you," you said grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze, she smiled softly,"Thank you for showing me kindness" she smiled, grey eyes looking into your violet ones,"Let's go to winter-" you where cut off by a knock on the door, Cregan stepped in, his face was unreadable, a piece of paper was in his hand,"What is it?" you asked,"Prince Jacaerys-" he began, your throat began to tighten, Sarah rubbed circles on the back of your hand with her thumb, "He has been killed alongside his dragon"

#cregan stark #cregan fanfiction #cregan x reader #cregan x y/n #cregan x female!reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n

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kckt88 · 1 month

Text

The Lost Dragon - Exile

Summary:

An Aemond POV from his time during exile.

Warning(s): None

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

Word Count: 6748

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond took Sovia in his arms and held her close, his nose buried in her messy silver curls "Daddys go to go away for a little while-be good for your mother byka grēges" (little bug)

As Aemond spoke, he pressed a tender kiss to Sovia's forehead, savouring the softness of her skin against his lips. He could feel the precious seconds slipping away, each passing moment carving a deeper ache within him.

Aemond enveloped Vaelys in his arms, holding her tightly against him as if trying to etch her presence into his very being.

“Nyke kivio issa jorrāelagon bona nyke jāhor māzigon arlī naejot ao” whispered Aemond (I promise my love that I will come back to you).

“Avy jorrāelan olvie” replied Vaelys (I love you so much).

Tears glistened in Vaelys' eyes as she pressed her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. "Aemond," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the silence. "May the gods watch over you and guide you back to me safely."

With one last lingering kiss, Aemond reluctantly pulled away, his resolve steeling him for the journey ahead. As he made his way towards Vhagar, but stopped when he caught sight of Helaena standing with Daeron who it seemed had only just arrived, given his dragon Tessarion was looming ominously behind him.

"Helaena, Daeron," Aemond called out, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of apprehension. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Helaena turned towards him, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Did you really think that you could leave without saying goodbye" she replied, her voice soft but resolute. "We wanted to see you off, to let you know that you are not alone in this."

Daeron stepped forward, his gaze meeting Aemond's with a steely resolve. "You may be embarking on this journey alone, brother," he spoke, his voice steady and unwavering, "But know that our hearts are with you every step of the way. We stand beside you, now and always."

Aemond felt a swell of gratitude wash over him as he looked upon his siblings, their unwavering support a beacon of strength amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. He stepped closer to them, a sense of solidarity enveloping them in their shared moment of farewell.

"Thank you, Helaena, Daeron," Aemond said, his voice filled with emotion. "Your presence here means more to me than words can express. I will carry your love and support with me, even in the darkest of times."

With a solemn nod, Helaena reached out, embracing her brother tightly, while Daeron clasped his arm in a gesture of brotherhood and solidarity.

“Before I leave- Daeron, I must ask that you protect and watch over Vaelys and Sovia, they are my most precious treasures.

"You have my word, brother," replied Daeron, his voice unwavering with determination. "I will watch over Vaelys and Sovia and I shall ensure their safety and well-being in your absence."

Aemond's shoulders relaxed slightly, a sense of relief washing over him as he heard Daeron's solemn vow. "Thank you, brother”.

With a final, lingering glance at his wife and daughter, Aemond made his way towards Vhagar.

As he began to ascend the net ladder to her saddle, Aemond spared one last meaningful look back at Vaelys and Sovia, their figures bathed in the soft light of dawn.

With a heavy heart but a steadfast spirit, Aemond mounted Vhagar's back, ready to soar into the unknown.

As Vhagar's wings beat against the air, carrying Aemond away from the Red Keep, he couldn't help but steal one last glance backward.

With a heavy heart, Aemond raised his hand in a silent farewell, his fingers reaching out as if to bridge the distance between them and as the Red Keep faded into the distance behind him, Aemond turned his gaze forward, fixing his eyes on the horizon ahead.

As Vhagar flew across the expanse of the Narrow Sea, Aemond couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gripped his heart. For the first time in his life, he was leaving the familiar shores of Westeros behind, venturing into the unknown lands of Essos.

No doubt it would take some hours for him to fully cross the Narrow Sea, and as Vhagar glided effortlessly through the clouds, Aemond realised he had no idea where he was even going, but then he remembered that Vhagar had spent time in Pentos in the years before he claimed her so maybe that was a good place to start.

“Shall we head to Pentos?” asked Aemond.

Vhagar grumbled in response, but she appeared to know where she was going as she changed direction slightly and increased her pace.

“I know this isn’t what you had in mind at your age-but I need you girl. Now more than ever” exclaimed Aemond as Vhagar roared loudly before she ascended into the clouds.

Hours later the silhouette of Pentos eventually came into view on the horizon and Aemond felt a mixture of relief and apprehension wash over him. The ancient city, with its towering spires and bustling streets, offered a welcome respite from the endless expanse of the Narrow Sea. But it also presented him with a choice: where to go next, and what path to take in this unfamiliar land.

Descending from the sky atop Vhagar, Aemond landed gracefully just outside the city walls, his dragon's presence commanding the attention of onlookers and passersby alike. However, they didn’t appear to fear her presence, they seemed more curious if anything.

With a practiced ease born of years of experience, Aemond dismounted from his dragon, his gaze sweeping over the bustling streets of Pentos.

Taking a moment to gather his bearings, Aemond considered his options. He could seek refuge within the walls of the city, perhaps finding shelter and solace amidst the labyrinthine alleys and bustling markets. Or he could venture forth into the wider world of Essos, seeking adventure and opportunity in the lands beyond Pentos.

After a moment's deliberation, Aemond made his decision. He would stay in Pentos for a time, using the city as a base from which to plan his next move.

After a few days of respite in an inn nestled on the outskirts of Pentos, Aemond and took to the skies once again, the wind whipping through his hair as they soared over the velvet hills and Ghoyan Drohe.

Despite his lingering wariness of the unknown, Aemond had managed to procure a map of sorts from the locals in Pentos and some of them had been helpful in suggesting places for him to visit.

As they flew, Aemond marvelled at the beauty of the land stretched out below him, the vibrant hues of the landscape painting a picture of untamed wilderness and ancient mysteries. There was a sense of rawness and vitality to the land, a stark contrast to the refined elegance of Westeros that Aemond had always known.

Descending towards the city of Norvos, Aemond felt a thrill of anticipation coursing through his veins.

There were tapestries that hung in the Red Keep that had been gifted to his father Viserys many years ago and Aemond was eager to experience what the city had to offer.

As Vhagar touched down on the outskirts of Norvos, Aemond's sense of curiosity burned brighter than ever before and despite Vhagar's imposing presence in the sky, Aemond understood the necessity of discretion as he walked through the bustling streets. Though his dragon remained hidden from sight as best she could, Aemond took care to conceal his own identity, just as he had done in Pentos.

Draped in a cloak of dark nondescript fabric, Aemond kept his silver hair hidden beneath the hood, its telltale gleam muted against the dim light of the city. He moved with purpose through the crowded thoroughfares, his eyes keenly observing the ebb and flow of life in Norvos.

The city's denizens paid him little heed, their attention consumed by their own affairs. Merchants hawked their wares from stalls lining the streets, while beggars sought alms from passersby with outstretched hands. Aemond blended seamlessly into the tapestry of life, his identity obscured by the cloak of anonymity he wore like a second skin.

As Aemond moved through the crowded streets, a woman approached him with a sway in her step and a seductive gleam in her eye. She was draped in silks that clung to her curves; her lips painted a tempting shade of crimson as she offered him a sultry smile.

"Good sir," she purred, her voice like honey dripping from her lips. "You seem lost. Perhaps I can help you find your way-to a place of pleasure”.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering with annoyance at the woman's brazen proposition. "I am not interested," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

But the woman persisted, undeterred by his rejection. "Oh, but you are a pretty one," she cooed, her fingers trailing tantalizingly along the edge of his cloak. "And with looks like yours, you wouldn't have to pay much for the company of a willing woman or man if that is your taste."

Aemond's patience wore thin as the woman's advances grew more insistent. "I have a wife," he stated firmly, hoping to put an end to her persistent persuasion.

But the woman merely laughed, her laughter like tinkling bells in the air. "A wife?" she scoffed. "What harm could a little bit of fun do? Surely she wouldn't mind if you indulged in a bit of pleasure while you're away."

Aemond's temper flared at her audacity, his patience finally reaching its limit. "I said I'm not interested," he snapped, his voice tinged with anger as he brushed past her, his steps quickening in his haste to be rid of her.

As he walked through the streets, Aemond’s gaze fell upon a mural painted upon the side of a weathered building. The image depicted a delicate butterfly, its wings adorned with vibrant hues that seemed to shimmer in the light of the afternoon sun.

His drifting to his infant daughter, Sovia, his ‘byka grēges’. The endearment brought a bittersweet pang to Aemond's heart, a reminder of the joy and innocence that had been left behind (Little bug).

She had said her first words the night before he left, ‘Da-Da’ she had looked so proud of herself when she’d said it. Her little hands clapping together.

Gods, how he missed her, a tear slipped down his pale cheek as he placed his hand against the mural.

She was only nine moons old, and by the time he returned she would be almost three name days old; and he felt a pain his chest that his daughter may not even remember him.

He had always believed that producing a son was of the utmost importance, a boy to carry on his name, but the moment that tiny baby girl was placed in his arms, everything he believed had changed, his heart had exploded with a feeling he’d never felt before.

She was perfect and she was his, this tiny little creature. He’d helped to create her.

His girl, his butterfly.

With a heavy heart, Aemond tore his gaze away from the mural, his footsteps echoing against the cobblestones as he continued on his journey through the streets.

After spending a few weeks amidst the vibrant streets and ancient alleys of Norvos, Aemond felt the call of adventure beckoning him once more. With a sense of anticipation coursing through his veins, he mounted Vhagar and took to the skies, the wind rushing past him as they soared towards their next destination: Qohor.

As they flew, Aemond marvelled at the changing landscape below, the rolling hills and verdant forests giving way to the arid plains and shimmering rivers of Qohor. The weather grew hotter with each passing mile, the sun beating down upon them with relentless intensity.

Touching down on the outskirts of the city, Aemond and Vhagar made their way towards the nearby forest, seeking respite from the oppressive heat of the day. It was a welcome relief to be surrounded by the cool shade of the trees, the earthy scent of the forest filling the air.

As Vhagar settled down to rest amongst the ancient trees, Aemond set out to explore his surroundings. The forest of Qohor was a vast and sprawling expanse, teeming with life and hidden wonders waiting to be discovered.

As he wandered through the sun-dappled glades and winding pathways of the forest, Aemond couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of his surroundings.

But amidst the tranquillity of the forest, Aemond couldn't ignore the oppressive heat that hung heavy in the air. The leather clothing he had grown accustomed to in Westeros was ill-suited to the sweltering temperatures of Qohor.

With a resigned sigh, Aemond shed his leather garments in favour of lighter attire, the cotton fabric offering some relief from the relentless heat.

Initially he had wanted to explore Qohor, but he’d gotten as far as the forest edge before giving up and returning to Vhagar.

She greeted him with a rumble of contentment, her scales gleaming in the dappled sunlight as she feasted upon the remains of a deer she had hunted.

For a moment, Aemond simply stood and watched as his faithful dragon enjoyed her meal, a sense of peace settling over him in the quiet solitude of the forest. Though the city held its own allure, there was something comforting about being here in the presence of Vhagar.

With a smile, Aemond settled down beside Vhagar, content to spend the rest of the day in the tranquil embrace of the forest, far from the hustle and bustle of Qohor.

Soon Aemond closed his eye and drifted off beside Vhagar, unaware of the danger lurking nearby, a group of men stumbled upon the scene. Their eyes gleamed with greed as they spied Aemond's sword and the glint of coin in his pouch.

The men crept closer, their intentions dark and sinister. They had no qualms about preying upon a lone traveller, especially one who appeared to be resting so peacefully against a rock.

But as they drew nearer, the rock against which Aemond leaned was not a rock at all, but the towering form of Vhagar, her scales blending seamlessly into the surroundings.

Before the men could react, Vhagar unleashed a burst of dragon fire, engulfing them in a torrent of flame. Their screams echoed through the forest; their bodies consumed by the inferno in a matter of seconds.

Aemond's eye widened in shock as he watched the scene unfold before him. He had barely had time to register the danger before Vhagar had intervened.

With a sense of gratitude, Aemond turned to his faithful companion, his heart filled with admiration for the dragon who had saved his life. Vhagar regarded him with a knowing gaze, her eyes reflecting trust and loyalty.

Admittedly since the incident in the skies above Storms End, his faith in Vhagar had been shaken, she had disobeyed his commands and his control over her had slipped, but here now he could feel their bond.

It was like a blanket that wrapped around him, he could feel her breath, her heart and her ire at her sleep being interrupted.

Aemond had to laugh at that one, but his old girl was here, and they would take care of one another.

After the encounter in the forest, Aemond felt that lingering in one place for too long posed too great a risk, both for himself and for Vhagar, so he decided it was time to move on.

Mounting Vhagar once more, they took to the skies. As they soared high above the landscape, Aemond's thoughts turned towards their next destination.

Eventually they descended upon the vast expanse of Vaes Dothrak. It was a city unlike any Aemond had ever seen, its sprawling tents and wooden palisades stretching out across the plains like a sea of canvas.

As they landed amidst the grassy fields outside the city, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Vaes Dothrak was the heart of the Dothraki Sea, a place of ancient traditions and fierce warriors who worshipped the Great Stallion.

But to his surprise, it was not the fearsome Dothraki warriors who greeted them, but a sense of cautious curiosity. The Dothraki had heard tales of dragons, creatures of legend and myth, and their presence stirred a mixture of fear and awe among the nomadic people.

As Aemond dismounted from Vhagar's back, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight, he was met with curious stares and whispered murmurs. The Dothraki regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and fascination, their eyes drawn to the large dragon at his side.

Despite their fear of Vhagar, the Dothraki seemed intrigued by the silver-haired man who rode the dragon. They approached cautiously, their curiosity outweighing their apprehension as they sought to learn more about this mysterious stranger who had descended upon their city.

Aemond met their gaze with a steady confidence, his demeanour calm and assured despite the unfamiliar surroundings. Though he knew that the Dothraki were a proud and fierce people, he was determined to show them that he meant no harm, that he was merely a traveller in search of adventure.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Aemond found himself immersed in the vibrant culture of the Dothraki. Despite the initial wariness that had greeted him upon his arrival. Aemond had quickly earned the respect and admiration of the nomadic warriors through his deeds and actions.

With Vhagar by his side, Aemond became a familiar presence among the Dothraki, joining them in their hunts and battles across the vast expanse of the Dothraki Sea. His skill in combat soon became the stuff of legend, his sword arm wielding deadly precision against any who dared to challenge him.

But it was not only his prowess in battle that earned him the admiration of the Dothraki. Aemond immersed himself in their way of life with a sense of respect and humility.

He learned their language, mastered their customs, and rode alongside them as one of their own, earning the title of "Aemond the rider of last shadow" among the Dothraki warriors.

Although he was left pretty red faced by one of their traditions when he happened a group of Dothraki and their wives, making love in the open, they claimed it was a celebration of life, of love, of everything that connects them to the world around them-and admittedly Aemond found himself wanting to try it with Vaelys.

Among the Dothraki, Aemond’s presence sparked both curiosity and intrigue, especially among the women of the khalasar. His silver hair and striking features set him apart from the other men, earning him admiring glances and whispers of admiration.

But despite the attention he garnered from the Dothraki women, Aemond remained steadfast in his loyalty to Vaelys. Though he appreciated the beauty and allure of the women who sought his favour, his heart belonged to her alone, and he had no interest in pursuing any other.

Even if he did wake each morning with his cock as hard as steel, he never once indulged in the Dothraki’s offerings, he simply fucked his fist to the image of his sweet wife on her knees with her lips wrapped his cock, or the taste of her cunny.

Or imagining all the ways he would fuck her upon his return, perhaps he would fill her with his seed, and she would bless him with another child again.

Oh, how he longed to see her swollen and round with his child again.

But as the Dothraki women vied for his attention with coy smiles and suggestive glances, Aemond remained polite but distant, never once allowing himself to be swayed by their charms.

He knew that his bond with Vaelys was unbreakable, a love that transcended time and distance, and he would not betray that trust for anything in the world.

The time soon comes for Aemond to bid farewell to the Dothraki and embark upon the next leg of his journey, he was overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for the time he had spent among them. The Dothraki had welcomed him into their midst with open arms, and he would forever cherish the memories of their friendship.

With Vhagar soaring through the sky once more, they left the Dothraki Sea behind and ventured out over the vast expanse of the Red Waste. The desolate landscape stretched out before them, a barren wasteland devoid of life or civilization.

But Aemond pressed onward, his determination unyielding as he set his sights on the ruins of Old Valyria.

As Aemond and Vhagar soared over the ruins of Old Valyria, he couldn't help but feel the connection to the land of his ancestors. Below him, the crumbling remnants of the once-mighty city stretched out as far as the eye could see, a haunting testament to the power and majesty of the Valyrian Empire.

As they circled above the ancient ruins, Aemond's thoughts turned to the origins of House Targaryen, to the time before the Doom had laid waste to Valyria and forever changed the course of history. It was here, in this ancient land of dragons and sorcery, that his ancestors had once ruled as kings and queens, their power unmatched by any other in the world.

With a sense of reverence, Aemond directed Vhagar to fly over the place where the ancestral home of House Targaryen had once stood, the place where his forebears had first hatched their dragon eggs and forged the bonds that would shape the destiny of their house for generations to come.

As they circled above the ruins, Aemond felt a profound sense of pride swell within him, knowing that he was flying over the birthplace of his family, the place where the legacy of House Targaryen had begun.

With a final glance back at the ancient city below, Aemond urged Vhagar onward.

Aemond had set his sights on a new destination: the ancient city of Volantis.

Volantis was a free city steeped in history and tradition, its towering walls and bustling markets a testament to its status as one of the oldest and most powerful cities in Essos.

As they approached the city, Aemond's eyes were drawn to the massive bronze gates that guarded its entrance, their imposing presence a stark reminder of the city's strength and resilience. With a sense of awe, he directed Vhagar towards the heart of Volantis, eager to explore all that the ancient city had to offer.

As Aemond and Vhagar made their presence known in Volantis, the officials in charge of the city took notice. Recognizing the potential benefits of having a dragon and a skilled warrior in their midst, they approached Aemond with an offer.

Gathered in the grand halls of the city's ruling council, the officials spoke with a tone of respect and deference as they addressed the silver-haired prince and his formidable companion.

"We are honoured by your presence in Volantis, Prince Aemond," one of the officials began, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We understand that you seek lodging and sustenance for yourself and your dragon, and we are prepared to offer you a generous arrangement in return for your services."

The officials outlined their proposal, offering Aemond and Vhagar ample lodging within the city, befitting a prince of his stature. They promised to provide for all of their needs, including food and shelter, ensuring that they wanted for nothing during their time in Volantis.

"In return," another official added, "we would ask that you and your dragon lend us your strength in defending the city from raiders and rogue Dothraki tribes. Your presence alone would serve as a deterrent to any who would seek to harm us, and your skills in battle would be invaluable in protecting our people."

Aemond listened carefully to the terms of the offer, considering their implications. He knew that his duty as a prince of House Targaryen extended beyond the borders of Westeros, and he was eager to prove himself worthy of his noble lineage.

"I accept your offer," Aemond replied, his voice firm with resolve. "My dragon and I will stand by your side and defend Volantis with all of our strength.

As Aemond walked through the bustling streets of Volantis, he came across a figure cloaked in crimson robes, her eyes alight with an otherworldly intensity. She approached him with a sense of purpose, her presence commanding attention.

"Prince Aemond Targaryen”.

Aemond regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and caution, wondering how this stranger knew his name. "And who might you be?" he asked, his tone guarded.

The woman smiled, revealing a flash of gleaming teeth. "I am Melisandre," she replied, her voice resonating with an otherworldly power. "A priestess of the Lord of Light."

"What do you want with me, priestess?" he asked, his voice tinged with scepticism.

Melisandre's eyes seemed to pierce straight through him as she spoke. "I have seen you in the flames” she said. "I saw you flying in the skies of Storm's End, chasing after the strong boy."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at her words, his mind racing with confusion. Chasing after a strong boy? It made no sense to him. He had never chased a strong boy.

"It was not a strong boy," Aemond replied, his voice firm. "It was my wife, Vaelys".

Melisandre regarded him with a knowing look, her eyes seeming to see into the depths of his soul. "Perhaps," she said cryptically. "Or perhaps the flames have shown me a different truth."

As Aemond followed Melisandre through the winding streets of Volantis, a sense of unease settled over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this encounter than met the eye, that the priestess held secrets that could unravel the very fabric of his reality.

Arriving at the entrance of the temple of the Lord of Light, Melisandre turned to face Aemond, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity. "Come," she said, her voice a whisper in the dim light of the temple. "I will show you the truth that lies within the flames."

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his instincts warning him of the danger that lay ahead. But curiosity and a desire for answers drove him forward, and he followed Melisandre into the depths of the temple.

As they entered the inner sanctum, Aemond was greeted by the sight of a roaring fire, its flames dancing and flickering in the darkness. Melisandre approached the flames with a sense of reverence, her hands outstretched as if in prayer.

"Look into the flames, Prince Aemond," she said, her voice echoing in the chamber. "See what the Lord of Light has shown me."

Reluctantly, Aemond stepped forward and gazed into the heart of the fire. At first, all he saw was the swirling dance of flames, their hypnotic movements casting shadows across the walls of the temple.

But then, slowly but surely, images began to form within the flames. Aemond's heart skipped a beat as he beheld a vision unlike any he had ever seen before.

The skies ablaze with dragon fire and the air thick with the scent of death. Aemond watched helplessly as Vhagar, burst through the clouds and devoured Lucerys.

His heart heavy with sorrow, Aemond watched as Helaena Targaryen, was forced to make an impossible choice— Jaehaerys or Maelor? His heart breaking at his sweet sisters scream of anguish as her son was killed.

The scene shifted, and Aemond found himself standing in the courtyard of the Red Keep, surrounded by the sound of the desperate pleas from prisoners. His hands, slick with blood, trembled as he carried out executions with ruthless efficiency, each blow a painful reminder of the cost of war.

The funeral of his nephew, his body wrapped in the shroud hand stitched by Helaena, his little hand clutching his favourite dragon toy.

His own decent into darkness, the cold grip of ruthlessness had seized him and refused to let go.

And then, the fall of Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys at the Battle of Rook's Rest—the gruesome bloody show of the dragon’s severed head paraded through the streets of Kings Landing.

His brother Aegon, injured and vulnerable-as Aemond found himself being crowned Prince Regent, tasked with ruling in his absence.

Alys Rivers, the witch of Harrenhal-her eyes dark and inscrutable as she beckoned to him with a knowing smile. Aemond was drawn to her, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her presence.

As they drew closer, the vision twisted into a grotesque parody of intimacy, with Alys wrapping herself around him in a macabre dance of seduction. Aemond's heart pounded in his chest as he watched himself become ensnared in her web.

As the vision continued to unfold, Aemond watched in horror as Alys grew round with his bastard-a son with no name.

Then he saw her-Vaelys, her eyes wide with fear as he stood before her, his own hands wrapped around her throat. He watched in horror as his grip tightened, squeezing the life from her with a brutality that tore at his soul.

The dark version of him, had no love for her-in this world she had been responsible for the death of his brother Daeron, unflinching as she bathed him in dragon fire during the second battle of Tumbleton.

As Vaelys' lifeless form crumpled to the ground, a primal scream tore from Aemond's throat.

His nephew Maelor torn apart by a mob of common folk, the decent of his sister into madness and her fall from the window’s of Maegor’s Holdfast.

In the skies above the God's Eye, the air crackling with the energy of impending battle. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he soared through the clouds astride Vhagar.

But his exhilaration was tinged with dread as he spotted the silhouette of another dragon, its massive wingspan blotting out the sun. It was Caraxes, ridden by his uncle Daemon, a formidable adversary with a reputation for ferocity and skill.

As the dragons clashed in a deadly dance of fire and fury, Aemond felt a cold knot of fear tighten in his chest. The air rang with the deafening roar of their flames, the ground below a blur as they circled each other in a deadly game of cat and mouse.

Aemond's heart pounded in his chest as he urged Vhagar onward, his mind consumed by a primal instinct to survive at any cost. But as he looked up, his eyes widening in terror, he saw something that chilled him to the bone-a flash of steel glinting in the sunlight, the deadly point of Dark Sister, his uncle's legendary Valyrian steel sword, aimed straight at him.

With a strangled cry of horror, Aemond tried to veer away, to escape the deadly trajectory of the blade. But it was too late, he felt the sharp point of Dark Sister pierce his remaining eye, driving through flesh and bone, agony engulfing him as the blade tore through his skull, its tip emerging from the back of his throat.

No," Aemond whispered, his voice barely audible above the crackling of the flames. "It cannot be."

But Melisandre merely watched in silence as the vision played out before them, her eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through to his soul.

As the vision faded and the flames returned to their normal state, Aemond stood frozen in shock, his mind reeling from what he had witnessed.

"Why have you shown me this?" he demanded, his eyes burning with intensity.

But Melisandre remained calm and composed, her gaze steady as she met Aemond's accusing stare. "The Lord of Light has shown you a glimpse of a life that could have been," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of certainty.

Aemond's heart clenched at her words, his mind struggling to comprehend the implications of what she was saying. Could it be possible? Could the vision he had seen in the flames truly be a glimpse of an alternate reality, a path not taken?

"But why?" Aemond pressed, his voice tinged with desperation. "Why would the Lord of Light show me such a thing?"

Melisandre's expression softened, a hint of sympathy in her eyes. "The ways of the Lord are mysterious and inscrutable; you must understand the importance of your union with Vaelys. Your marriage has changed the course of history for the better."

Aemond listened intently, his gaze fixed on the priestess as she continued.

"House Targaryen will not fall to ruin," Melisandre declared, her words ringing with conviction. "The stag and the lion will not claim the Iron Throne, and the last Targaryen will not live in exile across the Narrow Sea."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. "A great dynasty will be born from the blood of you and your wife," she proclaimed. "A dynasty that will unite the Seven Kingdoms and bring the promised one”.

“The promised one?” asked Aemond.

“Se bōsa bantis iksos māzis. Hen aōha ānogar māzigon se dārilaros bona istan kīvio, se zȳhon jāhor sagon se vāedar hen suvion se perzys” (The long night is coming. From your blood comes the princess that was promised, and hers will be the song of ice and fire).

“Dārilaros?” asked Aemond.

“Daenerys jelmāzmo hen targārio lentrot” (Daenerys stormborn of House Targaryen).

“T-This is a lot of information to get in a matter of minutes” said Aemond.

"Beware, Prince Aemond," she cautioned, her voice low and urgent. "There are spies who lurk in the shadows, their ears attuned to the whispers of the wind. Queen Rhaenyra seeks to know of your dealings in Volantis."

"I will heed your warning and take all necessary precautions to protect myself."

“See to it that you do-spies do not always tell the truth of what they see” replied Melisandre.

"What do you want in payment for your counsel?" asked Aemond, his voice edged with caution.

Melisandre regarded him with a piercing gaze, her eyes seeming to bore into his very soul. "What makes you think I require payment," she replied cryptically, her voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Aemond furrowed his brow, puzzled by her words. "Nothing is for free” muttered Aemond.

With a graceful movement, Melisandre reached out and ran her hand along Aemond's arm, sending a shiver down his spine. "I do not seek coin or jewels”.

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at her touch, his mind racing with thoughts of what she could possibly desire. But before he could respond, his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden realization.

"You want me," he blurted out, his voice filled with disbelief and disgust. "You want me to take you to bed."

Melisandre's eyes widened in surprise at his words, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "No," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. "That is not what I seek-besides I know you would not pay such a price, given how often your cock stirs in honour of your wife”.

"Forgive me," he stammered, his face burning with embarrassment. "I misunderstood your intentions."

“There are those that would ask for such a thing-but I am not a woods witch living a cursed ruin-“

"Is that what the woman in my vision was?" he asked, his voice hesitant as he sought clarification.

Melisandre turned to face him once more, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes. "Alys was a coiled snake," she replied, her voice low and solemn. "A serpent who twisted your mind until there was nothing left."

A chill ran down Aemond's spine at her words, a sense of unease settling over him like a suffocating shroud.

"What do you mean?" Aemond asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How could she have twisted my mind?"

Melisandre's expression grew solemn as she spoke, her words heavy with meaning. "Alys was a creature of shadow and deceit," she explained. "She preyed upon your weaknesses, feeding upon your doubts and fears until they consumed you entirely-she would have led you to your death”.

“A death I would have deserved by the looks of it” muttered Aemond.

“In that life yes-but not in this one” replied Melisandre.

“You haven’t told me what you seek as payment-“

“I seek nothing-but the continuation of your blood,” said Melisandre.

“I shall endeavour to see it done” said Aemond firmly.

“Oh, I know you will-such pretty things they will be, the blood of the dragon runs thick”.

“I bid you farewell” said Aemond bowing his head respectfully.

With a final nod of acknowledgment, Melisandre faded back into the shadows, leaving Aemond alone with his thoughts, the vision of the alternate still hauting his mind.

The day had finally arrived. After two long years in exile, the time had come for Aemond to return to Westeros, to his wife Vaelys and Sovia. As he stood on the shores of Volantis, a sense of anticipation and longing filled his heart.

With a heavy heart, Aemond bid farewell to the friends he had made in Volantis, grateful for their hospitality and support during his time in exile. But now, his thoughts turned homeward, to the family he had left behind so many months ago.

With Vhagar by his side, Aemond climbed onto the dragon's back, his heart racing with excitement as he prepared to take to the skies once more. As he urged Vhagar into the air, he felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, the wind whipping past them as they soared higher and higher.

Vhagar seemed to sense her riders excitement, her powerful wings beating against the air as she flew with a renewed sense of purpose. It was as if she, too, was eager to be returning home after so long away.

As they flew over the expanse of the Narrow Sea, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and relief wash over him. He was going home, back to the ones he loved most in the world.

As Aemond flew closer to Dragonstone, his heart pounded with anticipation and a touch of apprehension. He couldn't shake the memory of the day he had left, the promise Vaelys had made to wait for him on the beach. In the midst of his excitement to return home, a deep fear gnawed at him. What if she wasn't there? What if these two years of separation had changed their love?

With each passing moment, the knot in Aemond's stomach tightened. He prayed fervently to the gods, pleading for Vaelys to be there, waiting for him as she had promised.

Finally, as Dragonstone came into view on the horizon, Aemond's heart skipped a beat. And there, standing on the sandy shores of the beach, was Vaelys.

Relief flooded through Aemond as he beheld her, his eyes misting over with tears of joy. She was there, just as she had promised, her silhouette outlined against the setting sun.

With Vhagar descending gracefully towards the beach, Aemond couldn't contain his excitement any longer. He urged the dragon forward, his heart racing as they approached the shore.

As they landed on the beach, Aemond leaped down from Vhagar's back, Vaelys sprinted across the sand toward Aemond, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. As she reached him, she leaped into his arms, her laughter mingling with his as they tumbled into the soft embrace of the sand below.

Giggling uncontrollably, Vaelys peppered kisses all over Aemond's face, her lips finding his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose in a flurry of affection and adoration.

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they lay entwined in the sand, their laughter echoing across the beach.

Aemond's voice trembled with emotion as he spoke, his eye searching Vaelys' face for reassurance. "I was worried you wouldn't be waiting for me," he confessed, his words heavy with the weight of his fears. "That the years apart would mean you no longer loved me, that you had taken another husband-"

But Vaelys shook her head, her eyes shining with love and devotion as she reached out to cup his cheek. "It's you, Aemond," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "It's always been you."

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

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so. i would LOVE to hear or maybe read your thots on this pic:

OH MY.

So many thots.

Okay, so I'm working off the pretence that this is Aemond with his spouse and not his brother (sorry Aegond stannies, not a ship I sail on)

Aemond is really respectful of women, as we've seen from the series. He does not care to indulge in the activities within pleasure houses, clearly loves his sister and dotes on his mother. With this in mind, I don't think it's in Aemond's nature to be sexually aggressive. He adores his wife and when he's built up a strong foundation of trust and mutual respect he is open to being more playfully adventurous with her.

We're going to assume that this is where the relationship is at for this little drabble. NSFW. 18+ below the cut.

You huffed a restless sigh, listlessly ruffling the pages of the book in your lap. You'd lost interest in its contents ages ago, desperate for something else to occupy your time.

You glanced over to your husband, every bit the image of handsome Targaryen prince, as the crackling fire cast shadows across his sharp jaw and pert lips. His white hair shone like a halo in its light. He was still engrossed in the tome he held between his long fingers.

"A History of Dornish Lore"

You rolled your eyes. How boring. You couldn't muster the energy to ask about it.

"Aemond, I'm bored" you whined, your tone bordering on insolent brattiness.

"Mmm", he hummed, not looking up from his reading, "That's a shame."

You scowled, vexed that your beloved would scorn you so.

"Aemond, I want something to do!" You leaned forward, fingertips caressing his knee.

His violet eye flickered upwards to regard you briefly, before returning to the pages. "Perhaps Helaena is in need of some company?" he said offhandedly.

You didn't doubt it. Aegon barely gave her the time of day. She had only her handmaidens and the children for company. But it wasn't your sister in law's attention that you craved.

"I want your company, husband" you insisted, standing up and snatching the book from his grasp.

Aemond's head snapped up, but he stayed rooted in his seat. "Dovodedha riña", he chastised, but there was no real anger in his voice. You could tell from the playfulness of his smirk. Silly girl.

You held the book aloft, a soft giggle falling from your lips as your stared down at your husband. A silent challenge.

"Tepagon bona arlī," he commanded, "Iā kesā sagon vaoreznuni." Give that back, or you will be sorry.

"You'll have to catch me first!" You turned and ran from your shared apartments, you footfalls echoing along the flagstones as you heard Aemond move to pursue you.

"Iksan jāre naejot jiōragon ao" he taunted from behind you. I'm going to get you.

Your giggles became maniacal as you found your way into the empty Council chambers. As your eyes darted around the room, scoping out the best place to hide, you gasped as two strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you back into your husband's chest.

"Jiōraton ao." he whispered. Got you.

He spun you to face him, snatching the book from your grasp and depositing it on the nearest available surface. Aemond crowded your space, backing you up until the backs of your thighs met with the edge of the Council's meeting table.

Gently, but with enough force to ensure your body was pliant, Aemond pushed you to lay back.

You struggled against your husband, attempting to sit up. "Aemond, what are you..."

You shuddered as he placed a hand to your throat. Not applying any real pressure, more of a gesture to hold you in place and let you know that there was nowhere for you to go.

His other hand began hiking up your skirts. His deft fingers were quick to find your centre; wet, warm and ready for him.

Your back arched as he swiped his fingers through the wet folds. Mewling as his thumb began to circle the area where you needed attention most.

"Gūrogon nyke", he hissed, suddenly spearing you with his index and middle fingers, curling them upwards against the spongy spot inside of you. Take me.

Your mouth fell into a slack 'o' at the delicious drag and stretch. Each touch sending sparks of white hot electricity along your spine, until the familiar tautness in your lower belly began to build.

"Aemond...I..." you stuttered.

He gave you a knowing smirk, speeding up his ministrations, until finally you came apart with a cry, hands flying up to grab his biceps for support.

You panted heavily, finally becoming more lucid and with it the horrifying realisation of just how public what you'd engaged in was. Anyone could have caught you.

"Aemond, this was completely inappropriate!" you gaped up at him, still stuffed full of his fingers with his hand around your throat.

"Mmmm", he murmured. "And yet", he whispered, bending so that his lips grazed the shell of your ear, "You still came. Little slut."

Your cheeks were ablaze as he withdrew his fingers from you, holding them out for you to suck clean.

You complied obediently, expecting him to free himself from his trousers and enter you once you'd finished. You looked on in horror as instead he turned, grabbed his book and exited the Council chambers, leaving you alone to straighten yourself out.

"He'll pay for that later", you thought.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Everyone deserves a little war crime, as a treat! Aemond is currently having a tantrum in his chambers because the reader isn't there to warm his bed...

Chapter 43: Sōvegon arlī

You left the chambers swiftly, moving as fast as your legs could carry you, as short and uneven breaths left your mouth. You did not stop as you let your body carry you to where they were desperate to go.

The war had only just begun, and yet you felt as though you had aged years from it already.

That fiery rage bubbled inside of you, your steps erratic as you moved.

You thought of what was to come. What was to be expected of everyone. Your brother would surely fight, your mother and father too, and all her men.

What little use you were without a dragon.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips.

As a child, you remember not having an egg put in the cradle alongside you, as was tradition for anyone of Valyrian blood. Though for some unforeseen reason, Syrax did not hatch a clutch for you, and so you went out and claimed Syndor instead.

Such determination for such a small child.

Aemond was similar in that way.

Determined.

Harrenhal was a stark reminder of that.

He too did not have an egg placed in his cradle, and he too claimed a dragon later in life. And although he was in the same position as you were, he was the one they made fun of, not you.

What a different upbringing you both had.

Would you have turned out the same way that he did?

He had taken so much from you, including your one way to assist in this war.

How were you to fight against your uncles without one?

Though you had spent countless hours training with Ser Harwin as a child, and even with Daemon and your brothers with a blade as you grew older, you knew that your skills were of far better use in the sky.

Daemon had said that none of the dragons on Dragonmont had been claimed thus far, and you knew that there were new clutches of eggs. But, the war would not wait. And it would take years for those dragons to grow and bond with you and be ready to fight.

And so you were presented with a choice.

Claim a dragon now, or never ride again.

The skirt of your dress swept behind you as you stormed your way through the castle determined.

You walked for what felt like almost an hour, twisting and turning through the Keep, passing Lords and guards as you went, until finally you were ascending the rolling green cliffs, and sharp volcanic rocks.

The walk was steep, and your legs ached as you followed the worn path to the edge of Dragonmont.

The island of Dragonstone itself was created by the large volcano that the castle sat upon. It built on the face of the mountain, carved into the volcanic rock already there, perfectly nestled between cliffs and hills.

Though it was a small fortress in comparison to others, it was a formidable one.

Prince Daemon however, had told you different tales of Dragonstone's creation.

He had told you Dragonmont had erupted up from within the bowels of the sea, by the birth of a dragon, its bursting lava burning its way to the surface before creating the island you now lived on. Your father had said it was created two hundred years before the Doom of Valyria, which is why the craftsmanship of the castle itself was seen nowhere else in the realm.

There are rumours of course, that the stone was melted down by magic of your ancestors, the rock giving way to carve the castle into its side. Though as a child you had wondered if perhaps it was not magic at all, and instead the large flames of dragons you had never seen before.

Some things, you would never know.

Dragons had lived on Dragonmont since its creation, living inside of the tunnels and caves that wound through the active volcano. Atop its peak, plumes of grey smoke curled into the air, giving Dragonstone a sulphuric smell.

When you had first moved there, the smell had made your nose scrunch up, but you found the longer that you were there, the more used to it you had become, until eventually you do not notice the smell at all.

The island often had storms, the heat and smoke from the volcano stirring the air in such a way that lightning would crack about the sky, and rain would fall to the ground beneath it. And although for anyone living in King's Landing it may be seen as hard to live atop a volcano, there were small villages that resided there.

Fisherman and farmers alike, living together atop Dragonstone with you.

Because of the heat of Dragonmont, dragons laid their eggs in the hot walls of the caves, and there the Dragonkeeper's kept watch of the eggs and all the dragons that resided there.

Dragonkeeper's wore plain garments and wielded long quarterstaves. They lived in the villages with the fisherman and farmers, whilst others lived in small keeps around the castle.

You were thankful for the Dragonkeeper's, for they were the ones who had told you tales of your dragon before you went out in search of him when you had visited Dragonstone. Curiosity had gotten the better of you, though in the end it was a success.

They work hard and keep their eyes on the eggs inside, wary of the Cannibal, who often liked to sneak inside to feast upon them.

You felt yourself grow out of breath as you continued to climb up the rocky cliffs, feeling the heat of Dragonmont begin to stifle the air the higher you got. Your fists clenched as you moved, and you became more determined than ever.

Vermithor resided within one of the smoking caverns of Dragonmont, and had lived there since King Jaehaerys died. He had been riderless ever since. Your Grandsire had told you many tales about Vermithor. King Jaehaerys flew to King's Landing and claimed the Iron Throne atop the Bronze Fury.

Since the death of Syndor, Vermithor was now the second largest dragon in all the realm. You had tried to see him before, once when you were younger, sneaking into the walls of the volcano as you began to do now.

All you saw was a glimpse of bronze scales before a plume of flames came towards you. Luckily, Daemon had followed you through the mountain and pulled you away from the cavern, growling at you in High Valyrian tongue at your stupidity.

If you did not have a dragon, you would most likely never leave Dragonstone, and would be confined to the Painted Table to strategise with men.

And you were no man.

You were the blood of the dragon, and what little use were you if you did not have one? What kind of Targaryen had no dragon to fly? Especially in a time of war?

Why did you keep holding back?

You were a dragon. It was time to be a dragon.

You pushed on. As you came round a rocky cliff side, you arrived to your destination.

Before you was a large entrance to the cavern within, the same one in which you remembered sneaking into as a child. There were other tunnels that led inside from within the castle walls, though you knew if you were spotted, your plans would be halted.

The cave was deep and dark, and as you stepped through, the heat of the volcano instantly surrounded you. You felt a light sweat break out on your skin as you pushed inside. There were torches along the walls, lit by the Dragonkeeper's as you descended into the bowels of the mountain.

As you walked, you grabbed a torch from its holder, pulling it free before continuing forward. Inside, the only noises were your feet, the breeze at the mouth of the cave, and the subtle cracking of the torches flames.

It was silent again.

You thought of Lucerys, of Helaena, of her son, and of your Grandsire. Of Syndor and Visenya. And you let that surge of anger and rage, and spite, and brutality, push through you to move further into the cavern.

They will pay for what they did.

As you walked in further, you were wary to not sneak up on the old war dragon, and so you began to sing Hāros Bartossi (With Three Heads) the way you always did to Syndor, into the cavern, your voice echoing off of its large walls.

You sang loudly and smoothly as you went in High Valyrian, praying that the Gods were on your side, as you finally entered the large empty cave.

It was so dark inside, and so large, that all that you could see was four to five paces in front of your torch, and the ones surrounding the walls.

But once inside, any small whispers of uncertainty and fear left, and you became more steadfast than ever.

“Fire Breather, Winged Leader, but to heads, to a third sing.” You began, accent rolling from your lips as you moved about the space.

“From my voice, the fires have spoke, and the price has been paid,”

A large ball of fire was shot into the air of the cave, the already humid cavern, now almost burning your skin as its flames illuminated the large Bronze Fury. Although your heart sped in your chest, you continued to sing confidently, with no fear.

“With blood magic. With words of flame, with clear eyes,”

The ground shook beneath you as the large dragon began to slowly walk towards you. You lifted your head, and held your arm strong as you looked into the darkness.

“To bind three, to you I sing.”

A large horned snout and jagged teeth became visible in the depths of the dark. The large dragon snorted a breath towards you, as he sniffed, the air pushing your hair back as you held firm.

Only his teeth and nose were visible.

“As one we gather, and with three heads, we shall fly as we were destined.”

Flames erupted above you again, the cloud spilling against the ceiling, its red tendrils crawling across the cave as he stretched his head up. The flames made sweat drop from your brow, the front of your hair becoming wet with perspiration. A smile wound its way on your lips.

“Beautifully, freely.” You finished.

The large bronze dragon came closer, as its jagged teeth opened right before your face. If you were to sway on your feet, your nose would brush against the large canines as they shone against the torch beside you.

Vermithor's head turned as he brought an eye close to you, staring at you with intention. You held steady, looking back at him. His eye was a brilliant gold, and as his pupil dilated as he stared at you, your own reflection shone in his eye.

You watched yourself in the reflection as you stood.

Your hair was braided back, your gown was tight, and your back was straight as you kept your gaze on the ancient dragon, who was rumoured to be a hundred years old, willing all of your anger and rage into holding still as he watched you.

Be strong. Be the dragon.

You had claimed one once before, you must do it again.

Another breeze of air brushed against you as his mouth opened wide, teeth almost grazing against your body as you stared into his wide open mouth. Inside was a large thick tongue which curled, and behind it, the slow build of flames.

A threat.

You were going to die.

“Dohaerās, Vermithor! Lykirī.” (Serve me, Vermithor, calm.)

King Jaehaerys' dragons mouth still widened, the light from the flame building inside growing rapidly.

You had two options.

One: Run.

Two: Hold steady.

You stood your ground.

“Dohaerās!” Your voice echoed into the cavern, and suddenly the flames inside the Bronze Fury's gullet faded.

Vermithor's head pulled away from you as his jaws slowly closed, large eyes watching you carefully.

“Lykir��, Vermithor.” You said again, torch still firmly in your grip.

“Dohaerās.”

The large dragon watched you and did nothing, but breath hot breaths onto your face.

He was still.

Waiting for you.

A deep crackling purr came from within his chest, and you could feel the vibration move through the air and into you.

He was waiting for you to move.

Slowly you lifted the hand that lay limp beside you, fist so tight together that your nails dug deeply into your palm. The fist released, and you spread your fingers out, moving towards the large bronze snout that was covered in scars, mouth slightly agape as teeth still showed in a lesser threat.

The scales beneath your fingers were hard and felt hot to the touch. You spread your palm smoothly against him, until your entire hand was flat on the Bronze Fury’s snout.

Another hot blow of air came from his nose as he sniffed you, nostrils flaring widely as his eyes tracked your movements.

“Lykirī, Vermithor.” You softly commanded, hand brushing against him as he allowed you to pet him.

In that moment you wished it was black scales beneath your fingers. You wished that Syndor was the one breathing on you, or purring at your touch. But he was not here anymore and gone with Lucerys. And now you had claimed another.

You had claimed Vermithor.

You stepped closer, watching the dragon as he watched you back.

His teeth were gnarled and crooked, and some were missing, their large points slightly yellow with age. Crawling across his mouth and down to his nose was a large scar, its indent deep into the dragon's scales.

He had flown to war.

An advantage that before, only Vhagar had.

Vermithor has seen all of the realm, flown through all of the lands, and witnessed all of the terrains from the North to the South, even further down to Dorne.

With Vermithor by your side, you had an upper hand.

You moved slowly to his side, the dragons head turning to watch you as you walked over to his legs and wings. Vermithor was around the same size as Syndor had been, only just a bit smaller than Vhagar. His wings had scars and holes in them, but you knew they would not affect his flight.

Although you had not come face to face with the dragon since you were a child, you had still witnessed him fly about the top of the volcano and across the sea. His scales always shone a brilliant bronze.

“Dohaerās, Vermithor. Dohaerās.”

The dragon rumbled as you stood beneath his curled wing, before you reached to grab hold of it. With what little strength you had, you attempted to pull yourself up onto his wing.

The painful pulling in your side prevented you. You hissed and gripped your wound, before placing a hand on the large bronze wing.

“Dohaerās.” You commanded, as you pushed down with your weight on the wing, attempting to get him to lower it.

The dragon did not move.

“Dohaerās.” You said louder and pushed again, and slowly the Bronze Fury bent to the side, leaning so that you could pull yourself up.

You shifted your body up from his wing to his back, the dragon moving to assist you, before you sat in between his shoulders. An air of familiarity surrounded you as your heart beat in your chest.

You would not fall.

You would not fall again.

Vermithor was different than Syndor.

He had no spines along his back to settle into, only horns and scales which you could straddle. Leaning forward you exhaled a deep breath, and found two large horns to wrap your ungloved hands around. Your dress moved up from your calves, bunching against your thighs as you clenched against him.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

“Dohaerās, Vermithor. Sōvegon.” (Serve me, Vermithor. Fly.)

At the command, the large dragon stood higher and slowly, one foot after the other, walked you back through the path to the cavern you had came in, chest grumbling as he purred.

With every step, you swayed, the large dragon less smooth and cat-like than Syndor’s movements had been. Instead, he walked with purpose, and his footfalls caused the earth the vibrate beneath you.

You held on tightly, the tension in your body causing you to lean into your injured side, favouring it over the other to compensate for the pain. His scales and horns beneath you were hard, and you struggled to get comfortable.

But this was something you would think of later.

The light from outside began to shine through as he continued forward, walking with more speed, as you finally broke out of the cavern, the large beast calling into the air as he ran forward to the cliff. His large bronze wings spread out beside him before suddenly, you were in flight.

His wings pushed you up into the sky, over the top of Dragonmont as your eyes shut tightly. You could scarcely pull a breath into your lungs, you felt your chest seize in sudden fear.

Vermithor let out another shrill call into the sky, and another came in response. It's cry was mangled and warped in comparison to the old rumble of the Bronze Fury.

Opening your eyes you looked around you.

You were soaring above Dragonstone, looking down at the volcano below you as it puffed grey smoke into the air.

A breath whooshed out from your lungs, as you let out a small laugh. Relief. A small piece of joy, bubbling back inside of you, rather than the sticky molasses of grief and despair that seemed to drown you, and the rage that pulled you apart from within.

You were flying again.

You laughed into the air, joy building within of you, the worlds troubles falling away for even the smallest of moments, giving you a second of reprieve. It was magical. It was inexplainable, and it made you feel powerful again.

There was nothing in the world like riding on dragonback.

Again, came the sound of the broken cry of another.

Peering over Vermithor’s wing, you saw a large, coal coloured dragon below you.

You blinked in a double take.

Syndor?

It's cry came again as you stared, whilst Vermithor responded loudly back, his cry vibrating your body above him as he flew.

The coal coloured dragon took flight away from you both, having been disturbed from its perch on a cliffside of the volcano. As it flew, you looked at its body.

It was not Syndor.

Instead of his deep, black, shiny scales, this dragons scales were coal coloured and dull, with large streaks of scarring on its side.

Instead of Syndor’s brilliant eyes, this dragon had menacing green ones that seemed to almost glow. Its wings were sharp, with horns spilling off of the edges, whilst its face was covered in jagged points.

The dragons tail was clubbed, and the way it moved was wild, and skittish.

As Vermithor replied to its calls, you realised which dragon you had disturbed.

The Cannibal.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

Text

The Silver Dragon (29/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2730

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Aemond and Arianwyn relax with a shared bath after their dragonflight.

Warnings: Allusions to sex.

Author's Note: Hope y'all enjoyed a little more fluff! It's come to my attention that all the sweet, happy chapters are making y'all worry about what may be coming next. Now, I certainly have no clue where you would get such an idea….

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax @whore-of-many-hot-men

(Please let me know if your tag isn't working, and I'll do my best to correct it! And if you would like to be added to the list, just shoot me an ask!)

The Bath

Emrys groaned with disappointment when Arianwyn turned him back to the city, while Aemond and Vhagar descended back to the Tourney Grounds. He wanted to stay with his new companion and continue to learn from her.

He had learned from her on their flight. Or at least, he tried to.

Vhagar was desperate for him to fly upside down with her, but he got nervous every time he tilted too far and began to lose altitude. She demonstrated how to keep airborne for so long that Aemond had nearly gotten sick, but he still never quite caught on.

The dragons had only stopped their nearly nauseating attempts when their riders assured them they would fly together again many times.

But even now, Emrys grumbled, not wanting to leave Vhagar behind.

“Ziry iksos tolī uēpa naejot deal rūsīr ao syt tolī bōsa,” Arianwyn chided. “Ivestragī zirȳla ēdrugon.” She is too old to deal with you for too long. Let her rest.

Vhagar was, indeed, a century and a half older than him. There could be no doubt that his boundless energy would, at some point, start to grate on her. It was better to keep their meetings short until the Queen of the Dragons was used to her new friend: “Byka ossȳngnon,” as Aemond named him that afternoon. The Little Dread.

Emrys shivered, purposefully tossing her about in her saddle in protest. But his rider was not swayed.

Arianwyn rolled her eyes as she guided him down to the Dragonpit. “Emā naejot return naejot Dreamfyre, se ivestragon zirȳla nūmāzma mirre se kirimves ēdā.” You have to return to Dreamfyre and tell her about all the fun you had.

That, at least, seemed to sate him enough that he protested no further, landing in the courtyard of the Dragonpit without fuss. But when his rider dismounted, he let out a forlorn whimper.

“Kesan sagon arlī hemtubis, Emrys,” she assured him, with a final pat to the tip of his nose. “ Īlon kessa sōvegon lēda zirȳla arlī pār.” I will be back tomorrow. We shall fly with her again then.

He snorted against her palm. A question. “You promise?”

“Nyke kivio,” she replied. I promise.

With that, Emrys lazily blinked his bright blue eyes, telling her he loved her and would wait for her.

But as he turned back to the Dragonkeepers to follow them to his den, he made it quite clear that he would not wait patiently. He was already having fun with the monks, brushing his tail against their feet to make them stumble and trilling proudly when they did.

“Kesan ūndegon ao hemtubis! Syt sir, kesan sagon lēda ñuha valzȳrys – sepār se lanta hen īlva,” Arianwyn called back, not caring that the Dragonkeepers would hear her as well. I will see you tomorrow! For now, I will be with my husband - just the two of us.

She laughed as she heard a few novices gasp at her words but said nothing before getting back in her carriage.

Ser Warren Crayne raised a thick eyebrow as he held open the coach door. “Do I want to know what you just said?”

“I don’t believe you do, Ser,” she said with a mischievous grin.

The old man sighed, his black eyes twinkling as he shut the door and mounted his own horse. Once they were moving through the city streets, he turned to his partner for the day, the ever-morose Ser Sterlan Coldwater.

“We always knew she would be married someday,” he said, sounding for all the world like a father at wit’s end. “And I am glad that she has made a love match. Prince Aemond will treat her well. But… I don’t think I will ever get used to looking at her and seeing a woman – a wife – rather than the sweet, innocent little girl we followed from the Vale.”

Ser Sterlan shook his head. “She hasn’t been that little girl for some time, Warren. And it’s a good thing. You saw her standing up to her father in the Throne Room and, just now, so confident on the back of that beast. So take heart in the fact that Rhea would be very proud of the woman she’s become.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Warren answered. “I never asked. What was the message she had you send back to the castle earlier?”

The smile on Sterlan’s face nearly matched that of his Lady. “I don’t believe you want to know that either, Ser.”

Aemond was not in the solar when Arianwyn arrived back at their quarters. But she didn’t have time to consider why, not when she was so taken by the room itself.

The bare walls and empty tables were no more.

Against the far wall was a massive tapestry, a relic of the First Men depicting the crowning of Yorwyck I, the first of the Bronze Kings. It had hung in Runestone for millennia, a tradition that Ser Gerold Royce had broken when he brought it to Arianwyn for her tenth nameday.

A massive new bookshelf had been brought in and stuffed full. But it had obviously not been enough, as two open chests, brimming with even more books, were set in the corner of the room.

And above the hearth, two bronze swords were newly mounted. A matched pair, with Runes engraved within the fullers. A small note hung from one of the hilts, tied with green ribbon.

As she looked around the room at each new addition, from an entire set of polished Bronze armor to a small, ordinary wooden trinket box, she realized they were all her things. Every gift she had ever received from Gerold and Aemond, everything she had ever owned – save for the few measly possessions that remained on Dragonstone – was here.

“I know we’ll have to pack it all up again when we go to Runestone,” Aemond mused from where he stood beneath the doorframe. He smiled as he removed his gloves, savoring the look of delight on his wife’s face. “But as long as we have to stay here while my mother plans her feasts and celebrations, I wanted it to feel like home.”

Arianwyn surged forward, leaping into his arms as she brought her lips to his. He kissed her back, wrapping his hands around her waist and laughing at her enthusiasm.

“You are my home, Aemond,” she said, “I don’t need anything else. Still, I appreciate the gesture.”

He blushed under her adoring gaze, then pulled her in to kiss her forehead. Even now, when he had seen every inch of her, that smile still threatened to overwhelm him. Perhaps she had somehow enchanted him, and that was why his knees felt weak every time she fixed him with those shining silver eyes.

But then she pulled out of his arms, only keeping their little fingers entwined as she led him to the bathing room. She was no witch; it was far simpler than that.

She was just perfect.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember your manservant’s name,” she whispered, sliding his coat off his shoulders. “I actually don’t know if he ever gave it. But I’ll have to thank him, he’s done a wonderful job. The water is still warm.”

Aemond glanced down at the large tub in the middle of the room. It was, in fact, filled with steaming water. The table beside it held all manner of soaps and oils – including many he did not recognize. Arianwyn’s, then.

“When did you arrange this?” he asked. She had been with him practically every moment since they woke, and he had watched as her carriage left the castle. When had she found the time?

She just smiled as she continued to undress him. “Ser Sterlan sent a raven from the Dragonpit while we were flying.”

“You had a raven sent?” Aemond asked in disbelief, raising his arms at her instruction so she could remove his shirt. “Just so there would be a bath ready when we returned?”

Her eyes danced with amusement as she busied herself with the laces of his trousers. When she finished, she hooked her thumbs in his waistband and looked back up at him, pouting with feigned disappointment. “Do you not want to take a bath with me?”

He tightened his lips as he stifled a smile, his long nose scrunching up as he did his best to look annoyed and grabbed her chin. “You are a wicked thing, little wife of mine.”

With a single tug on his trousers, pulling him closer to her, Arianwyn’s pout melted into a great smile. She wrapped a hand around his neck and brought him down for a kiss.

“I knew you would,” she whispered against him, trailing a finger down his bare chest. “Now, I certainly hope you can get my clothes off faster than you put them on. I don’t want the water to go cold.”

Aemond pressed his forehead to hers and obeyed without protest, ridding her of her armor so quickly that he snapped nearly every lace. By the time she was naked, only her left bracer remained intact.

“You have to stop tearing my clothes, or Brynna will want to have words with you,” she teased as she stepped into the tub, holding his outstretched hand for balance.

He gave a smug grin as he stepped in behind her, pressing a single kiss to the back of her neck before lowering them both down to recline against opposite sides of the tub. As he savored the feeling of the hot water against his skin, he decided that he, too, would have to thank Kiran for his excellent work.

“Then I suppose I should be grateful that she is currently confined to the Maester’s Tower,” he said, his eyes wandering from Arianwyn’s face to how her curls fell around her breasts.

She followed his gaze and splashed water into his face. “Don’t think that will keep you safe,” she taunted, “There is not a jailer in the world who could hold her, let alone poor Orwyle.”

“In my experience, Orwyle is a more than capable jailer,” he replied with latent annoyance.

“Well, he had to be strict with you,” she shot back, “to stop you from hurting yourself further!”

“And what would you know about it?” He asked as he reached a hand beneath the water to grip her ankle and pull her towards him.

She only giggled as she nestled herself between his legs, wrapping her own around his waist. “Orwyle told me!”

“When?”

“In his notes. The ones he put in your letters when he was writing for you,” Arianwyn explained, leaning back to grab a plush cloth and a small block of soap from the table beside them. But when she moved to start washing her husband, he wrapped a hand around her wrist to stop her.

“You and Orwyle were exchanging secret messages in my letters? Why?” He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or impressed and ended up confused.

Arianwyn tilted her head, amused by the bewildered expression on his face. It wasn’t often that she was able to keep a secret from him, even unintentionally. Part of her wanted to stay silent, to revel in this small power she held over him.

But she could never do that. Her soul had always been open to him, her entire being laid bare for him and him alone.

Besides, she had promised she would always be honest with him.

“It was only a few times,” she assured, running her fingers through his unbound hair. “And he never said much. He just didn’t want me to think him as dictatorial as you made him out to be.”

He leaned into her touch, releasing her wrist. “But he didn’t tell you how sick I really was? How long it actually took me to recover?”

“No,” she whispered, running the soapy cloth along his chest. “So, you cannot be angry with him about that. But I certainly can.”

“Don’t be,” he cupped her chin, bringing her eyes back to his face. “I’m fine now. I got better. See?”

He turned so that his scar faced her – for once, not afraid of it being seen.

Just as she bore her soul for him, he let her see every part of him. Without shame, for he knew she would never – could never – shy away from any of it.

They sat in the water in comfortable silence, taking turns washing each other between soft, languid kisses.

Arianwyn was deliriously happy, laying back against Aemond’s chest as he massaged hair soaps and oils into her scalp with his long, nimble fingers. It took all her effort to keep her eyes open, but she did.

She wanted to watch him. To see his sapphire reflect sunlight off the bathwater. To see the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly each time she smiled or moaned at his delicate touches. To see the perpetual tightness of his jaw fade as he let himself relax entirely with her in his arms.

“I hope…” he whispered. Then he shut his mouth tight, sadness sweeping over his face as he shook his head.

“What is it, my love?” Arianwyn asked, reaching up to hold his face. But he turned away from her hand and withdrew his own from her hair.

He shook his head again. “It’s nothing, Aria.”

“Obviously, it’s not,” she countered, sitting up and turning around to face him. He didn’t even look at her, focusing instead on the ripples in the water until they stilled.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he whispered, holding out a hand to her. “Just lay back down. Let me finish washing your hair.”

“No!” she said, once again pouting. But this time, it was real. “Not until you tell me what you were going to say!”

He sighed, biting his lips as he considered how to say it. They had been having such a good day; he did want to ruin it. Finally, he just spat it out. “I was going to say that I hope our children have your hair.”

Arianwyn’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide. He was sure he had just ruined their day.

“Why would that ever upset me?” she asked, her voice impossibly soft. “Aemond, that’s lovely.”

He looked back at her, her sweet face crumpling with sadness. Gods forgive him. He had been so wrong.

“I just thought…” he stammered, surging forward to grab her shoulders and pull her into his chest.

“You think I don’t want to have children.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes, you idiot!” she cried, pushing on his shoulder. “Of course, I want to have children – your children. A whole army of them. I thought I made that clear last night.”

“If it’s what we both want, why do we have to wait?” He smiled, despite her scowl, her words warming his heart. Then, needing to feel her against him, he drew her closer to his chest. “We could get started right here, right now.”

She could feel his growing arousal pressing against her, but she shook her head. “We have to wait because… because I am selfish,” she explained. “I want you all to myself, at least for a little while. I don’t want to share you with anyone, not even our children.”

Aemond leaned against her, the suds still in her hair tickling his skin. Hearing her say the words “our children” was practically divine. He cursed himself for doubting her and vowed he would not delay making amends. “Then I will gladly wait, and savor having you all to myself, as well.”

A smile returned to her face as he turned her around, laying her back against his chest to continue massaging the oils and soaps into her hair. Their sweet silence returned. They did not need words. Aemond apologized with every tender brush of his fingers, and she forgave him with a single, slow blink.

“I will pray that they have your hair,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

She pushed back against his chest, savoring the closeness. “And I will pray that they have your eyes.”

“Then it is decided: your hair and my eyes,” he said as he lowered her into the water to rinse her beautiful curls. “I can hardly wait – but I will.”

Next Chapter

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bohemian-nights · 1 year

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Update: Arlī

I am working on chapter 9 right now(yay final chapter 👏🏽), but here in America it’s about to be a holiday(MLK day). So I’ll probably have it up by mid next week at the earliest or next weekend at the latest.

#arlī #hotd fic update #hotd fic #daemon targaryen x targaryen!oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x black!oc #unrelated but show Dragonstone is hideous #just had to say that

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fanficapologist · 9 months

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Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Eight

"Who's there?" she called out, her voice a mixture of caution and curiosity. The evening sun cast long shadows across the garden, adding an air of mystery to the scene. Her heart skipped a beat, and her hand instinctively went to the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath her skirts.

“Sīr, ao emagon māzigon arlī naejot dārys tegorīr?” So, you have returned to Kings Landing? The voice replied. Maera squinted at the figure, still unsure if he could be identified as friend or foe. He spoke again “Mōrī jēda nyke ūndan ao istan hāre jēdri ag? Ao istan olvie vēdros rȳ issa mandia’s dīnilūks” Last time I saw you was three years ago? If I recall correctly, you were quite agitated at my sister’s wedding.

Maera sighed and took her hand off her dagger, realising who the mysterious shadow was. The game had begun.

“Se mōrī jēda nyke ūndan ao, aōha ego ēdan mazverdagon hae rōva hae aōha zaldrīzes” And last time I saw you, you’re ego had swelled to match the size of your dragon. She replied, staring up defiantly at the shadow on the wall.

“Hmm” it scoffed, shifting so a leg dangled off the stones. A predator taunting it’s prey, getting ready to strike.

Maera tensed her jaw before calling out to the figure once again. “Issi ao māzis hen? Nykeā lua ruaragon inkot se tēmbi?” So are you going to come out? Or continue to cower behind the trees?

From the shadows emerged a figure, gracefully leaping down from the garden wall with a fluid motion that spoke of practiced agility. The man took two steps forward, stepping out of completely and allowing her to recognize him. Maera's heart quickened as she observed him from a distance, her gaze tracing the lines of his profile.

Aemond Targaryen had transformed into a figure that exuded both power and danger. His once-boyish features from three years prior had matured into the rugged handsomeness of a man, his white hair cascading down his shoulders like a silken waterfall. His shoulders had broadened, his voice had deepened, resonating with a newfound authority. His face, marred by a scar that ran from forehead to cheek, retained a striking handsomeness, amplified by his eyepatch. His remaining eye, a vivid shade of violet, locked onto Lady Maera with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

As Aemond stalked towards her, the voice of Maera’s father played in her mind. “Your actions reflect not just on yourself but on our entire house”. This was not the court that Maera had left all those years ago. He was prince, she a lady. There must be respect and no obvious animosity displayed. She would play her role dutifully, as she promised her father she would. With her jaw clenched, eyes cast downward, Maera dipped gracefully into a low curtsy before Aemond.

“My Prince” she said, gazing slowly upwards to find him towering over her, hands behind his back, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“My Lady” Aemond spoke softly, his voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and tension. The returned acknowledgment gave Maera the indication to rise. They studied each other deeply until he spoke once more. “It has been a long time”

"Indeed," she replied, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within. "Three years to be exact." They stood before each other, words left unspoken in the air. To break the silence, Maera gestured for him to join her on a stroll back towards the castle, to which he obliged.

“You are still learning High Valyrian” Aemond murmured, glancing over to her as they continued walking.

Maera smiled to herself at his statement. “Yes, I am fluent now. It is the language of my mother, so it is a tongue I will always speak”

“Hmm. Your accent could do with some improvement” the Prince responded, causing Maera’s face to drop slightly

“Perhaps I shall seek the advice of the tutors here at the Keep” she retorted, her voice edged with bitterness. “Better education regarding Old Valyria is one of the advantages to returning to the Capital”

As they walked through the gardens, the air seemed to grow thicker with tension. Their conversation had took on a bitter edge, laden with sarcasm and veiled barbs. Aemond's lips curled, his eye glinting with a mixture of amusement and trouble. “I wonder what other advantages you intend to seek out through being at court?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow, my Prince”

Aemond's voice cut through the air, his tone biting. "Rumors are quite persistent, Maera. They say the eldest daughter of the Master of Laws is not as virtuous as her family would hope."

Maera's jaw clenched, her grip her dress tightening. She knew exactly what he was alluding to, and that he was trying to get a rise out of her. It was a false accusation, but Aemond had always been adept at striking where it hurt the most. However, she refused to let him see how much his words affected her. With a cold smile, she retorted, "If I were a lord serving my King, I could frequent the street of silk as much as I pleased. But whether I have been…deflowered or not, who I take to my bed is hardly any concern of yours."

Aemond's lips twitched in a half-smile, a mixture of amusement and something else flickering in his eyes. "True, perhaps I'm just trying to save our Queen from the scandal of having a less-than-virtuous companion."

Maera's patience began to wear thin, but she maintained her façade of indifference. "Helaena is my friend, and right now she needs all the support she can get.”

"An honorable sentiment," Aemond replied, his tone laced with mockery. "Though I'm not sure how much comfort she'll find in a friend with a tarnished reputation."

Their gazes locked, a silent battle of wills unfolding between them. Aemond's words were meant to provoke, and he seemed to delight in her visible discomfort. Maera refused to let him see her falter and instead decided to try and provoke him, to also strike where it hurt most.

“It does not surprise that you are indulging in courtly gossip, Aemond. After all, the second son is rarely needed in more important matters concerning the crown”

"You were always so headstrong," he remarked, jaw clenching at the comment, reminding him of his place in his family.

"And you were always so condescending," Maera shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. For a moment, they stood there, the weight of their history and newfound resentment hanging heavily between them.

She looked towards the Keep and judging by the stars slowly revealing themselves in the sky, Maera knew her presence would be required soon. "As much as I'm enjoying this delightful conversation, Aemond, I think it's best if we avoid each other during my time here at the keep."

Aemond's lips twisted into a wry smile. "Agreed. Our paths need not cross any more than necessary."

With a curt nod, Maera lowered herself into a graceful curtsy, a semblance of civility amidst the tension that had marred their conversation. She straightened, her gaze holding Aemond's for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and began walking away, the soft rustling of her gown accompanying each step.

The exchange had left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she couldn't shake off the way his smirking expression had felt like a calculated dig at her. As she walked away, her footsteps echoing against the cobblestone path, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Aemond still stood there, his gaze fixed on her retreating form, that infuriating sly smile still playing on his lips. The sight only fueled the flames of her irritation, and she clenched her jaw, determined not to let his presence undermine her composure.

The cool breeze brushed against her cheeks, a stark contrast to the seething emotions that churned within her. Maera quickened her pace, her heart pounding in rhythm with the steps that carried her away from the gardens and toward the looming Red Keep. It was infuriating, the way he managed to get under her skin, to stir up emotions she had fought to suppress. The bitterness of their exchange and the painful reminder of their fractured past gnawed at her, but she was determined not to let it show.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd helaena #house targaryen #house wylde

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goldsainz · 2 years

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could you write about telling daemon or him finding out somewhow taht you're pregnant with your first child? targ reader if you're comfortable if not any's okay !!!

MASTERLIST.

A/N: tysm for requesting!! i wrote this in half an hour, inspiration really hit here. i don’t really specify if the reader is targaryen, it’s more up for interpretation really, feel free to see it was you wish! [gif cred: @daenerys-stormborn]

WORD COUNT: 341

──────────

GLORY

You were a nervous wreck. You had not bled since two moons ago, and while you were glad those pains had been gone, it raised worries within you.

You’d called the maester and he had confirmed you were with child. It took him two times to repeat the tedious process of seeing if you were in fact pregnant, but you just had to be 100% sure.

Eventually you would have to break the news to Daemon. Would he be happy? Would he find the timing inconvenient? Your worries only grew as the time passed by.

“My love?” His voice echoed through the room, the clanking of his armour being taken off a sound you had become all too familiar with.

“In the bedroom.” You responded, your body laying on the bed as you awaited for your husband.

Daemon placed himself right beside you, finding comfort from the heat of your body.

“I’ve got something to tell you.” You break the silence after minutes of laying next to him, turning to look at him as he caresses your face, taking some hair off of your face.

“Go ahead.”

“I talked with a Maester today.” Your words make his brows furrow in worry.

Daemon immediately sits up, “Why? Are you alright?”

“I am,” You take a deep breath, trying to find the right way to tell him the news, “I’m with child.”

Your husband sits in silence, an impassive look on his face.

“Please say something, Daemon.” You whisper, fearing the worst from his reaction or lack thereof.

He grabs your face and places a passionate kiss to your lips, you return the kiss instantly.

“Y/N, this is great news.” He murmurs against your lips, a small laugh leaving your lips as the worry slips off your body.

“Yeah?”

“Bisa riñnykeā jāhor maghagon arlī se jaqiarzir naejot lentor Targārien.” This child will bring back the glory to house Targaryen.

At his words you kiss him, feeling most relieved that he is taking the news well. You couldn’t ask for a better husband.

taglist: @freerangesweets @targlyrian @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kiribrima @chevelledahuman @dkathl @ccallistata @beelanie @edum123 @booksbabes @watersquirtpewpewboomm @newtsniffles @deadstarkblacksoul @flowerisevil @paprikabadger

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #matt smith #hotd #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x you #game of thrones #anon ask #house of the dragon fanfic

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genz420 · 2 years

Text

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 21: The Black Dread.

Previous Part - Next Part

135 - Red Keep

Just like before, Visenya had gone to Baelrions skull; when she first got down to the skull, none of the candles had been lit. Visenya suspects that the queen had ensured that Baelrion's skull and altar remained untended. Visenya had taken it upon herself to lit the candles, humming a valerian lullaby. She mistakenly lit the closer candles first, but Visenya is determined to light them all, so the flame's heat feels nice against her exposed arms. The fire feels pleasant rather than painful.

After the almost fight in the training yard, Aemond was determined to find Visenya. He knows that since Ben is in King’s Landing, she would also be.

Aemond knew that she would be at Balerion skull. Visenya is a creature of habit, and he knows that the skull holds so much meaning to her, just like the bones he had given to Alys. Visenya hadn’t changed much in the last year. Her hair seemed to be thicker, and the curls wilder than before. The north seemed to have fed her well and kept her from battle. She is still as beautiful as the last time they were together, maybe even more so now. Aemond keeps a tight-lipped smile as he hears her humming.

Visenya knows he is there. She can feel his presence in the room when he comes down the stairs. She doesn’t want to acknowledge him, worried that if she does, then he might leave.

“You are so predictable little one,” Aemond speaks out, and Visenya lets herself smile. Aemond walks up behind her, leaning his hands on either side of her, caging her in his arms.

Both enjoy the warmth that they can feel from each other.

Aemond leans his head down into Visenya's neck, letting his nose rub against her neck. Visenya puts her hands in front of her, and the hot wax burns her hands, but if she can stay in the presence of Aemond, it is worth it. Visenya leans into his touch. She wants to be angry with him, but his touch is like fire, and Visenya craves it.

“It is highly inappropriate for us to be alone together, My Prince,” Visenya gets out. “Someone might question my maidenhood,”

Visenya is trying to make a joke. Being around Aemond makes her nervous. She can feel Aemond smirk against her neck, and he lets out a low hum. She knows she should pull away from him but lacks the strength to, as does he.

Aemond does hold some resentment towards Visenya for leaving him. He wonders what their life could have been if Visenya had only let him explain. Maybe the two would be married by now.

“Ȳdra daor henujagon arlī,” Aemond mutters against her neck. Visenya sighs out before turning around in his arms. “Umbagon kesīr lēda nyke,”

Don’t leave again. Stay here with me.

Aemond is truly beautiful. The soft, warm light from the candles cast shadows on his face. Aemond would look terrifying to anyone else, but to Visenya, he looks beautiful. Visenya wants to grab ahold of his face and smash their lips together, to forget about her leaving and show him how much she loves him.

Visenya clenches her hands together, feeling the cold wax crack and fall off her hands. Aemond looks down at Visenya, and she keeps her eyes trained, knowing that if she looks him in the eye, she will break down.

“I had no choice but to leave Aemond,” Visenya tells him, she knows that she should have probably stayed and listened to him, but at the moment, she needed to get away from King’s Landing and him.

“I have not slept with-”

“I didn’t care about who you were fucking,” Visenya stops him. She should let him finish talking but can not help but interrupt him. “It was about giving her the bones. Bones that belong to one of the most important dragons of our house,”

“I still see how it is no different than you gifting the dagger to that bastard,” Aemond spits out. He wants to talk, but Visenya doesn’t seem to want to listen. He has a hatred towards Ben. In his mind, Ben must want to be with Visenya; what man wouldn’t? Visenya snaps her head to look Aemond in the eye, now annoyed with his name-calling.

“One, his name is Ben. If you can not call him that, then Ser Blackwood. Two, Ben knows about the history of the dagger. What dragon it was. How she died. Everything I know about the bone, so does he. If you had taught Alys the history and the importance, then I wouldn’t have gotten mad and left,” Visenya tells him. She does not like Aemond calling Ben that and how he does not understand how giving Alys the bones was wrong.

“So it was my fault that you left?” Aemond asks, hurt and anger present in his voice.

“I didn’t say that,” Visenya tells him, desperate to have Aemond understand where she was coming from.

“I gave Alys the bones because I knew she would appreciate them the same way you did when we were younger,” Aemond whispers, and Visenya leans her head down.

It hurts both of them how the other can’t seem to understand where the other is coming from. Aemond gave the bones to someone he knew would appreciate and care for the bones the same way Visenya would. He didn’t want them to collect dust in the dragonpit when he knew Alys would care for them. Visenya can’t understand how Aemond thought it would be a good idea to give the bones away to someone without teaching them the history beforehand. Maybe if Aemond had told Alys the history, she wouldn’t have carved into them.

Aemond shakes his head before uncaging his arms and moving away from Visenya. She can’t let him go, not without telling him what happened. She grabs ahold of his arm to stop him, Aemond looks to Visenya, and she looks at him. Visenya swallows down the lump in her throat and takes a deep breath.

“Four months after I left, when Ben and I were in Winterfell, something happened,” Visenya starts, she takes in a shaky breath, and Aemond can see the tears pool in her eyes. Aemond turns his body to Visenya, wanting her to know he is listening. “Ben had a dream about a little boy. Training him how to hold a sword. Showing him different plants and shit like that. The little boy had a dragon and had white hair and purple eyes,”

Visenya smiles at the memory of Ben telling her about his dream. At the time, neither one knew the significance of it, but now both of their hearts break at the mention of it. Visenya wants nothing more than to run away from Aemond and fly back north, to run away from her problems and never speak a word about what happened, but she knows that it is only fair that Aemond knows the truth.

“Aemond, I didn’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t have left you. I would have stayed here and married you,” Visenya confesses, tears running down her cheeks, and she subconsciously starts to scratch at the top of her hand. A nasty habit that had come back. “Ben had never made the serum before, and he thought that he had made it right, but he didn’t,”

“Visenya-”

“Alysanne had two miscarriages before. She knew what was happening before I did and stayed with me through it. I screamed and cried. I stayed in bed for what felt like weeks. Ben and Alysanne sat at my bedside. I think the two of them thought I would have done something to stop the pain and guilt,” Visenya chokes out and aggressively rubs the tears away from her face. She had cried enough. “I am so sorry, Aemond,”

Aemond takes a second to process what Visenya had just told him. He wasn’t stupid. He knows what she is saying but doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his head around the words. Visenya had been pregnant, but she wasn’t anymore. He had been pregnant with his child, and he is assuming because why else would she be telling him. He and Visenya could have had a child right now. They could have been a family.

Visenya's attempt to keep her cries silent pulls Aemond out of his mind. Aemond can not think of a time when he had seen her break down like she is right now. He quickly hugs Visenya, letting her bury her head into his chest. Aemond holds Visenya tight, resting his head on hers.

The two stay in front of the Black Dreads skull, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. The soft cries of both Visenya and Aemond echo through the empty room. Both of them wished things could have been different. Both wished that Visenya had stayed in King’s Landing.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond Targaryen x velaryon oc #daughter of Rhaenyra #daughter of daemon #house of the dragon

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euphorial-docx · 2 years

Text

another hotd au snippet because i can’t write anything else apparently 🐉

“Gaomā daor sesīr jorrāelagon. Nūmāzma aōha botē, se dēmalion ao dēma bē se kessa emagon. Gaomā daor jorrāelagon, gaomagon ao?” You don’t even care. About your duties, the throne you sit upon and will inherit. You don’t care, do you?

“Gaoman jorrāelagon,” I do care, Sirius tells him as he rises from the Iron Throne, looming over Regulus, “yn gaoman daor jaelagon ziry— se dēmalion. Gaoman daor jaelagon ziry.” But I don’t want it— the throne. I don’t want it.

“Vējes gaomas daor jorrāelagon syt skoros jaelā, lēkia,” Fate does not care for what you want, brother, Regulus reminds him of the cruel reality they share.

Sirius hums under his breath as he begins to descend the steps, stopping himself before his younger brother. They stand there for a moment

“I bought you something,” Sirius reveals, lifting his hand to reveal a ring sitting in his palm. “James thought you’d like it.”

Regulus pointedly doesn’t look at the jewelry. “So it is a gift from ser James, yet you try to get acclaim for it?”

“If that will get you take it,” Sirius says. “No matter who’s idea it may have been, I’m the one who paid in gold for it.”

It pains Regulus to admit defeat and cast his gaze down to the ring, and it hurts more to admit to himself that he does like the gift.

It’s a golden ring decorated with fine details, and a jade gemstone calling for attention. Regulus does not typically wear gold, and often prefers the dark green of emeralds, but knowing that James saw this ring and thought of him makes Regulus like it more than he should.

Regulus cautiously reaches out to take the ring in his hand, feeling the smooth surface of the jade stone among the gold. He slips it on before returning his arms behind his back.

“Skori issi ao hembīnna arlī?” questions Regulus. When are you leaving again?

“Iksan daor.” I’m not.

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tobitofunction · 7 months

Text

🐉 part 8

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 9

You stood up and took a deep breath,"Zuko you need to do something, the new Ozai society has attacked your home now. Remember what I told you" you said before walking away,"Where are you going?" Zuko asked," Trying to find my dragon" you said giving no room for him to argue.

Zuko sighed deeply before he turned to the others,"Let's continue, she will calm down with time but the issue we have is time-sensitive. I might have an idea where we can get more information"

Meanwhile Kiyi and her family where walking around the palace when the saw you storm away,"Why is y/n looking so angry?" she asked looking up at her father, who just crouched down to her size and smiled,"She is probably just having a bad day. Now let's go to bed, it's way past your bedtime". Ursa crouched down and wanted to reach for her youngest hand but Kiyi pulled her hand away before she had the chance,"Don't touch me, your hands are cold" Kiyi said loudly clinging to her father who looked down sadly at his wife.

You stood on your balcony which overlooked the city when the door opened behind you, "Princess, you have a visitor" a maid said making you turn around, "Uncle?" you said in disbelief, "Hello my sweet niece" he said walking over to you,"What are you doing here?" you asked looking up at his scared yet handsome face,"I just wanted to hear how the wedding plans are going" he asked smirking,"They have been put on hold Uncle, but everything is fine, so safe that smirk for something else" you said with a grin,"You are wearing it still" he said changing the topic, his hands curled around the necklace he gifted to you,"I like wearing it, matches a lot of my outfits" you said with a shrug but a smirk played on your lips,"Valyrīha korzion iksos nykeā sȳz fit syt nykeā prince hen uēpa valyrio (Valyrian steel is a good fit for a Princess of Old Valyria)" he said removing his hand from your necklace and moved his hand to your chin,"Issi ao biare? Nyke kostagon nykeēdrosa gūrogon ao qrīdrughagon (Are you happy? I can still take you away)" you scoffed,"Aōha nykeēdrosa tolī se pāletilla nyke ūndegon (Your still after the crown I see)" you hummed removing his hand away from your face,"Issa feelings issi drēje, se nyke jāhor ivestragon ao ziry arlī (My feelings are true, and I will tell you it again)" he than grabbed you by the back of the head to pull you closer to him,"Mērī nykeā zaldrīzes kostagon tepagon another zaldrīzes skoros pōnta drējī jorrāelagon (Only a dragon can give another dragon what they truly need)" he continued his lips ghosting your ear,"Se hāeda āeksio hasn't touched ao yet paktot? (The young Lord hasn't touched you yet right?)","It's non of your business Uncle" you said trying to push him away from you,"I take that as a no" he chuckled parting from you,"Has your wife given you a child yet? Or are you even able to give her one" you teased making him grunt and grab you by the neck," Since you came over here you started to be become disobedient, you used to follow me around like a shadow, what happened?" he asked," I got away from you. Now let go of me before I call for the guards, your nothing here" you spat making him let go,"I wish you luck in the search of your Dragon my dear niece, I hope you find him alive" he said before leaving the room, making you look at him with fury as you rubbed your neck,"Princess is everything all right?" Suki asked walking into the room after your Uncle left,"Yes, I'm fine. Suki join me in the search for Haku, I could use someone with your skills very well" you said, Suki looked at your neck before nodding slowly.

Zuko and the other meanwhile arrived at their destination,"What is this place?" Kei Lo asked looking around,"The Fire Sages Capital Temple" Mai answered,"You been here before?","Someone thought it would be romantic to show their girlfriend where his ancestors are buried," Mai said glaring at Zuko,"Well was he wrong? As if memory serves correctly someone was fascinated by it" Zuko said with a smirk making Mai scoff. Kei Lo wanted to say something but he couldn't find the right to say in this awkward moment so he just looked to Aang," So! You Guys! How about we Y'know.....get going with the....you know with what we are doing currently hehe..." he said awkwardly. Zuko and Mai ignored the antics and went deeper inside the temple where Zuko approached a Sage,"Great Sage Shyu" he greeted.

Ty Lee also joined you with Suki on the mission to find your Dragon, you walked along the secret path behind the place where Haku stayed in the fire nation, hoping to find a clue on his whereabouts,"How can someone just steal a large dragon-like that?" Ty Lee asked,"Someone who will do anything so Zuko won't have any advantages anymore" you said,"Maybe that's why Zuko didn't want you to get involved in the plan before," Suki said making you take a deep breath,"I did what I had too, Zuko was strong but he got overwhelmed by the New Ozai society," you said calmly,"All I did was help" you continued. Suki didn't answer," How will we find him?" Ty Lee filled in,"My connection to him should help, I can't explain but it's a spiritual connection. When he was taken I could feel what he was feeling. He's close I know he is". Suddenly you heard commotions from the directions of the palace," What's going on?" Ty Lee asked,"Don't know but we should check it out" she said running towards the palace, meanwhile you stayed standing still, Ty Lee noticed and walked back towards you,"Your not coming?","I need to find Haku, Zuko can handle whatever is happening" Ty Lee frowned,"But maybe he can't, with everything what is happening he might need you. Haku is a dragon, he be fine until you rescue him" you sighed,"Fine, let's go"

The two of you just arrived to see a hooded figure hop over the palace, the floor was covered in burn marks. Zuko had his head hanging low as Ursa was embracing her husband,"What happened?" you said jogging towards Zuko,"Kiyi, was taken by Azula" he said.

Zuko couldn't sleep he was just pacing around his room, you still stayed in his room for many reasons, one being you still couldn't sleep as your mother's death still haunted you but also you be sharing a room soon anyway, so might as well keep it up. You were doing some stitching while lying in bed,"It's all my fault, I'm a sheep" he said making you look up,"It's not easy being a dragon, but you have it in you, don't be scared to make decisions" you smiled, Zuko sighed and sat down beside you,"You're pretty good at this" he said looking at the dragon you have stitched,"Thank you" you smiled putting it down the table beside the bed,"You really believe in me in doing the right thing?" you nodded.

The next day Zuko was talking to General Mak," Seal off the Capital City, until this is resolved no one come in or out. Then send your soldiers to Ukon's(Mai's Dad) home to arrest him. If he isn't there, which he probably won't be, start searching the people's homes for him or anyone who is associated with him","Yes Fire Lord" the general said with a bow before leaving, you watched the exchange happening while standing beside Aang who shook his head in disapproval, "Zuko, this isn't the way. Please let me find Ukano! I will sit him down and talk to him. No soldiers!" he pleaded. Zuko turned to his friend and bowed his head,"Avatar Aang, Thank you for your assistance up to this point. You know how much I value your wisdom and friendship" he said lifting his head again, Aang furrowed his brows,"Why are you talking to me like that? All adult and stuff?!","We tried your approach and it didn't work. Y/N was right I'm done being a sheep, I will be approaching it differently now" Aang looked at you before looking back at Zuko, "Treating everyone like criminals will alienate the people further" Aang tried to reason, "The people are alienated because Zuko didn't take the right measures from the start Avatar Aang, things need to change before more children go missing" Aang was about to protest when Zuko ordered Suki and Ty-Lee to remove him.

Zuko took a deep breath, you rubbed his back,"It be worth it" You smiled up at him, Zuko returned the smile, your purple eyes shinned like the finest jewellery up at him, and he couldn't help but just melt."I heard about you wanting to arrest my father" Mai said walking in, making you sigh,"I'm sorry it has to be done","I'm not mad, it was just a matter of time, I'm sorry for lying about his involvement","Don't be I know how hard it must have been"Zuko said placing his hand on her shoulder,"I'm sorry about Kiyi as well but the arrests should give an inside of where the children could be" she added making Zuko nod,"The soldiers should be nearly done with the arrest, let's head to the prisons".

"A riot?" Zuko said making General Mak nod, "Yes but it has been quiet since we made the arrest", "What about my father?" Mai asked, "He slipped away during the riot" Mai scoffed, "Of course he did" Zuko rubbed her shoulder while General Mak ordered the exist of the prisoners. The three of you watched as the prisoners passed you by, some giving you curious looks while others plainly ignored you,. Mai perked up as a familiar face popped up,"Kei Lo? Zuko release him, this must be a mistake" she said walking towards him,"I don't think so" Zuko reasoned making Mai scoff,"What were you doing with them anyway?" Zuko asked," They literally bumped into me" Kei Lo reasoned, the boy behind him letting out a small sorry, Zuko rolled his eyes not really believing him,"Zuko come on, don't be petty" Mai said making Zuko look at her before sighing,"Let him go" he said making General Mak release him from his shackles. Kei Lo rubbed his wrist,"You have a pretty fiancé so why don't you focus on her and leave me and Mai be" he whispered towards Zuko,"I'm not jealous, just cautious" Zuko defended,"You're doing great" you said reaching for his hand, Zuko smiled and kissed your knuckles,"Zuko" Aang voiced called from the distance making you turn around,"We looked everywhere for you" he said as he approached,"Aang? I thought you left" Zuko said his hand still in yours,"Well you thought wrong buddy, Suki, Ty Lee and me found a hidden passage" Aang grabbed Zuko's other arm and tried to drag him away but Zuko was still bigger than him even he did grow since the war ended. Zuko was about to say something when General Mak came back again,"Fire Lord, the sun will set before we know it. We need a plan or our will people will rise up again" Zuko looked at his general before looking back at you, the setting sun hitting your silver hair making it glow, giving you the appearance of a beautiful spirit,"I'm sorry Aang, but the General is right. Like I told you before I have to handle this my way" Zuko let go of your hand and turned away from Aang who loosened his grip on him,"Even if your way is stupid?" Aang asked but was ignored, he then turned to you," This isn't right-","I'm sorry Avatar Aang but Fire Lords Zuko priority is to bring back the missing children" you said bowing your head before following Zuko.

Aang pouted, he then began forming an airball in between his hands,"Stand back" he said to Suki and Ty-Lee,"What are you doing?" the former asked,"Getting the Fire Lords and Princess's attention" he said throwing the air ball towards the two of you, a gasp left your lips when you where lifted into the air,"What the-" you gasped seeing Zuko being in the same predicament,"Aang put us down" Zuko said,"I will after I show the two of you something" he said bending the air balls alongside him towards back to the palace.

Aang dropped you and Zuko literally on top the roof, Zuko landed first with a loud thud, you fell on top making him grow,"Don't ever do that again" you growled,"I thought dragons like flying?" Aang teased making you roll your eyes, Zuko hand was on your waist, he was blushing at the position he found himself in,"But jokes aside look at this" Aang said making you stand up from the position making Zuko sigh,"A secret passageway! So is that how Azula and the others escaped?" you said looking into the black hole, the smell of cold filled your nostrils making you scrunch up your nose,"We used to play with those passageways when we were little, Zuko was to scared to play in them" Ty Lee said showing up from behind with Mai, Suki and Kei Lo,"To my defensive, she did tell me they were haunted" he said with still a light blush on his face, you giggled making him shove you slightly when suddenly a cry was heard, but it wasn't from a person,"Haku" you said softly before any of the others could do something you ran into the darkness,"Y/N, wait" Zuko called out,"Suki, Ty Lee stay to keep the palace safe" he said before following you quickly.

"Y/N, walk slowly" Zuko scolded,"Haku is close, I can feel him strongly," you said pushing forward. Suddenly you stopped, a wall, you placed your hand on it,"It's a fake wall. I can feel a breeze" you said moving back as Zuko and Aang moved forward," This must be it. Behind this door could be Kiyi and Tom-Tom" Zuko said,"And Azula" Aang added.

But behind the wall wasn't Kiyi nor Tom - Tom but a graveyard with Haku chained into the grounds with multiple chains holding him tight, burn marks where spotted around the ground showing that he put up a fight,"Haku" you cried, you kneeled down beside him,"ñuha mijegindita dōna valītsos skoros pōnta gaomagon naejot ao (my poor sweet boy what they done to you)" you said rubbing the bridge of his snout,"Let's get these off Haku"Aang said using his fire bending to melt the chains,"Thank you Aang" you smiled making smile back,Zuko joined in the help of freeing Haku,"Zuko what is this place?" Kei Lo asked," The Royal Family Graveyard" Zuko answered as a chain snapped under the heat," I thought that the what the Dragonbone Catacombs were for?" Aang asked he freed Haku of another chain, the white beast growling softly with every chain he was released off,"aderī ao sagon dāez arlī (soon you be free again)" you cooed, trying to keep him calm," No, the catacombs are only for the Fire Lords. This place is for everyone else. It's called the Garden of Tranquil Souls" Zuko said as the last chain fell of Haku making him growl and stand up, he shook his head and whole body."Hmm, Zuko I hate to break it you but....these souls don't seem so Tranquil to me"Mai said as a bunch of Kemurikage appeared. You quickly mounted Haku,"Y/N, take Haku out of here" Aang said,"He can help","He's angry, it will just end in a blood bath" Aang said you looked at Zuko," Listen to him" you sighed,"sōvegon" but Haku didn't listen he growled," Haku sōvegon" you said again,"Haku rȳbagon nyke (Haku listen me) rȳbās Haku (obey Haku) sōvegon" Haku growled and started to take off making you sigh in relief,"sȳz valītsos (good boy)" you said patting his neck, you looked down and saw a fight break out. Everything went well until a loud lighting strike hit near you making you gasp and look down,"Azula" you whispered seeing the Fire Nation Princess on top of the highest tomb smirking up at you, Haku growled and turned around,"daor, haku daor (no, Haku,no)" you said tugging at his turquoise tufts, but Haku was to angry and spat fire at Azula who was just jumped away,"dohaeragon nyke (serve me)" you said,"gīda, ziry won't ōdrikagon ao. Nyke maghagon ao naejot safety (

But behind the wall wasn't Kiyi nor Tom - Tom but a graveyard with Haku chained into the grounds with multiple chains holding him tight, burn marks where spotted around the ground showing that he put up a fight,"Haku" you cried, you kneeled down beside him,"ñuha mijegindita dōna valītsos skoros pōnta gaomagon naejot ao (my poor sweet boy what they done to you)" you said rubbing the bridge of his snout,"Let's get these off Haku"Aang said using his fire bending to melt the chains,"Thank you Aang" you smiled making smile back,Zuko joined in the help of freeing Haku,"Zuko what is this place?" Kei Lo asked," The Royal Family Graveyard" Zuko answered as a chain snapped under the heat," I thought that the what the Dragonbone Catacombs were for?" Aang asked he freed Haku of another chain, the white beast growling softly with every chain he was released off,"aderī ao sagon dāez arlī (soon you be free again)" you cooed, trying to keep him calm," No, the catacombs are only for the Fire Lords. This place is for everyone else. It's called the Garden of Tranquil Souls" Zuko said as the last chain fell of Haku making him growl and stand up, he shook his head and whole body."Hmm, Zuko I hate to break it you but....these souls don't seem so Tranquil to me"Mai said as a bunch of Kemurikage appeared. You quickly mounted Haku,"Y/N, take Haku out of here" Aang said,"He can help","He's angry, it will just end in a blood bath" Aang said you looked at Zuko," Listen to him" you sighed,"sōvegon" but Haku didn't listen he growled," Haku sōvegon" you said again,"Haku rȳbagon nyke (Haku listen me) rȳbās Haku (obey Haku) sōvegon" Haku growled and started to take off making you sigh in relief,"sȳz valītsos (good boy)" you said patting his neck, you looked down and saw a fight break out. Everything went well until a loud lighting strike hit near you making you gasp and look down,"Azula" you whispered seeing the Fire Nation Princess on top of the highest tomb smirking up at you, Haku growled and turned around,"daor, haku daor (no, Haku,no)" you said tugging at his turquoise tufts, but Haku was to angry and spat fire at Azula who has just jumped away,"dohaeragon nyke (serve me)" you said,"gīda, ziry won't ōdrikagon ao. Nyke maghagon ao naejot safety (calm, she won't hurt you. I bring you to safety)" you said rubbing his neck steering him away from the fight.

"The Princess, seems to have trouble controlling that beast of hers"Kei Lo said,"He's angry and hurt, he also is trying to protect his rider who probably is feeling angry and hurt as well"Aang said,"It's not helping that Azula target her as well" Mai added.

You calmed Haku down and got him away from the scene back to the main part of the palace, not caring anymore if Dragon's being put in the public eye anymore, you landed in front of the castle. Guards where wide-eyed and stepped back a couple of steps, Ty Lee and Suki,"Y/n, why did bring Haku here" Suki asked,"I had trouble controlling him, both of our emotions where to high" you said burying your face into his scales,"The enemy already knows about him anyway, so why hide his existence" you said Haku moved his head towards you, slowly nudging you with his nose,"aōha ȳgha sir (your safe now)" you smiled at him. Suki smiled,"Where are others?","Fighting","Is that why Haku was hard to control?" you nodded,"My father told me once, that us controlling dragons is only an illusion, a power men shouldn't have trifled with, yet they are our greatest power, a power which protected us from the 100-year war" you said,"Men shouldn't have trifled with it but your now man, you got control back that all that matters" Suki smiled and Ty Lee nodded.

"Y/N"Kiyi screamed wiggling out Zuko's grip, you happily embraced her,"I'm so glad you're safe" you smiled, Kiyi giggled,"Of course, I'm safe. I was never in danger. I'm Zuzu sister after all" you laughed and nodded,"Yes you, are warrior Princess you could say" you said making her eyes light up,"Those this mean I can get my own dragon",you giggled and shook your head,"I think your parents won't be to keen on that" you said making her pout. You placed Kiyi on the floor as Zuko approached you,"Can we talk?" you nodded.

"I don't want to be a sheep but I'm scared that I have gone to far, Azula that I'm like her after all, that-","Being a dragon doesn't mean being evil, being a dragon means protecting what you love with everything you have. However, you do need to be careful dragons can't always be controlled as you have seen but I trust you in doing the right decision" you kissed his cheek making smile.

#zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #zuko x y/n #avatar zuko #zuko x you #firelord zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko x female!reader

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