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underhousearrestblog · 1 year

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Promised and Kept | A.T.

(summary) per your sister’s wish, you come back to King’s Landing for you nephew’s coronation, only to realize your once innocent and clueless nephew has completely changed

(warnings) Targaryen incest, reader is Alicen’t sister but around the same age as Aegon due to her being born once Alicent had just gotten married to Viserys (so a few years older than Aegon)

(warnings) explicit descriptions of dead bodies and blood

(warnings) nothing too explicit but there are some slight indications of sexual nature

(pairings) Aegon Targaryen x reader

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(genre) fluff, lukewarm smut

(word count) 5k

(also) usage of she/ her pronouns and the lady Hightower title

(also) as always in my imagines, this particular Aegon is not a r*pist or an abuser (or an alcoholic, for that matter)

HAPPY READING!

I would love to see you at my dear son Aegon’s coronation. It’s taking place in two days’ time and I’m sending an escort. Your presence would be highly appreciated, dear sister.

Lovingly, your sister Alicent

You closed and opened the paper again and again. However, there was no point in overthinking her words, as you had already accepted and left for King’s Landing. News of Rhaenyra and Aegon fighting over their right for the throne reached your side of the world rarely. You knew just the basics.

What you knew for sure though, was that your nephew’s coronation was most definitely your sister’s idea. Aegon you knew didn’t want to rule. He had expressed it tons whenever you spent time together, almost always relieved his older sister would be the one to rule. So if anything had changed, it wasn’t definitely wasn’t due to your nephew’s wishes or actions.

Everything seemed dead, once you entered the court. There was no greeting party but that was to be expected. You suspected that your sister would still hold a grudge because you had left her alone and lonely as soon as the position of a mapmaker had opened overseas. A small part of you suspected Aegon’s hand in this too – he too was to be expected to hold a grudge over you leaving. Out of all the children Alicent had, you had been closest with her first-born, you being closest to age and all... Whenever you tried to write to him, you only ever received letters from your sister, apologizing for her son and suggesting that you don’t waste your time writing him anything.

The greeting party could’ve been excused but there was also nobody else in sight. You threw a questioning look at your escort, and he nodded towards the entrance.

- I’m to escort lady Hightower to the main hall, - he indicated that you should go first. – The king has requested an audience.

You almost laughed at the formalities. The king, meaning, your nephew? That was probably Alicent. You suspected your sister would probably play cards through her son’s hands. That might’ve been for the better.

Halls inside were dead and quiet as well. No soul in sight. Not even a servant. Had there been an accident? A recent death? A battle or something? No blood anywhere, no decapitated bodies or wails of pain though.

- When was the coronation? – you questioned, rolling open your sister’s letter to check over once again. – Wasn’t it supposed to be today?

Your companion nodded, looking straight up.

- It happened this morning, - he continued to lead down the hall.

You stepped up closer to the young man and grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.

- Then why was I even invited? – against your better judgement, you were offended. – It’s clear that I’m not welcomed here...

The young knight didn’t even honor you with a look or nod. With his other arm, the free one, he pushed against the heavy wooden door, and it opened up with a loud creak.

- Quite the opposite, sister, - you would’ve recognized that voice in your sleep. – The coronation was planned in a rush. You are always welcomed here.

Your sister stepped before you – older, more mature but still familiar and welcoming. She smiled, and you, even tired and spent after the long trip, couldn’t help not doing the same. Once she saw you smile, both of you moved almost on muscle memory, making the last few steps and hugging each other.

She sighed into your hair, and you closed your eyes, finally feeling peace after such a long time. You hadn’t seen – or felt – anything similar to family in such a long time. This was a nice change of pace, even if it wouldn’t last for long.

Feeling the small hairs on your neck stand up, you looked over your sister’s shoulder, searching for the source of your unease.

There he was. Your Aegon. Or, more precisely, a small fragment of your Aegon. Hair seemed shorter but otherwise about the same. He was, as always, dressed in green. No doubt, his mother’s work.

But that was no nephew of yours. His eyes – ice cold and cruel – and posture – no longer carefree, now stiff and straight. Yeah, he was a king alright. There was nothing left of the boy you once knew.

His eyes didn’t leave yours, as they sometimes did whenever you, both young adults, looked at each other for too long. He would almost always be the one to cave, become frustrated and flustered. Now his intense gaze bore right through you, through your clothes, straight into your bones.

Alicent stepped back to take a careful look on you. She was talking about how you’ve grown into the finest woman she had ever seen or something along those lines, unaware of her son standing up from his throne and making his way to both of you. You, on the other hand, felt frozen into the ground, unable to move or even blink, for that matter. You felt like a prey, being cornered by a familiar predator.

- And these materials, - Alicent gushed over your cloak. – One of the finer ones, I hear. I’m glad you’re doing well. Money-wise, I mean.

You were sure it was no secret to anyone here how you were able to afford to live in luxury. After all, a mapmaker, no matter how good, wouldn’t pay that well.

- Now, now, mother, - Aegon looked smug, standing closely behind his mother’s shoulder. – I hear hunting criminals pays well, - his eyes didn’t stray, and even though they seemed friendly, his tone was abrupt and cold. – How’s that husband of yours, by the way?

You involuntarily flinched. You had married about four months ago. Had even invited your sister, who didn’t even bother to answer. Only your other nephew, Aemond, had given any answer by sending a wedding present in form of a green-themed necklace. Signing it with his and Helaena’s names only.

That was a clear enough message.

You cleared your throat, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Being such a sceptic of marriage in general and very much against your sister’s marriage, you felt as if you had betrayed yourself to a degree. Lifting your gaze up, you were met with sympathy from Alicent and smug arrogance from Aegon.

Never be ashamed of things you had to do to survive, Alicent’s words found their way through, and you lifted you chin up.

- He’s doing very well, thank you, - you challenged him to say something bad about your decisions. – We don’t see each other much during the weekdays. He’s mostly away at sea. But he writes to me sometimes and-

- I have a present for you, - Aegon turned his back on you, not letting you finish.

Apparently, hearing that you actually didn’t hate your husband was disappointing to him. Or boring.

He lifted his arm towards two men, carrying a rather large chest.

- Manners, Aegon, - your sister turned towards her son. – I wanted to hear more about my brother-in-law.

That was clearly not true but you appreciated her standing up for you.

He waved his mother off and turned his attention back to you, grinning. Something in your stomach churned.

- I acquired this about a day ago, - he smiled, indicating towards the chest at his feet. – I thought it would be the perfect gift for the return of my dear aunt.

You looked to Alicent for help but she seemed just as bewildered. Aegon opened the giant clasp in front of the wooden chest, lifted up the lid and in one swift movement kicked the box over, spilling its contents on the floor at your feet.

Spilling, as in...

You felt something warm soak through the bottoms of your footwear, just as you felt bile rise from your stomach.

The next thing you heard was Alicent’s gasp of horror, as you leaned over and emptied your stomach. The acidic taste in your mouth made your eyes water. Or maybe that was just an excuse because you didn’t want to admit you were crying.

Crying over...

The dead body of...

- Is that...? – you asked in a raspy voice, unable to pull your eyes from the decapitated form on the floor.

‘Form’ was a stretch. The head was separated from the rest. There was a leg right by your foot. Everything was covered in blood. In the blood of-

- Your dear husband, of course, - Aegon proclaimed, grinning. – We wouldn’t want him to miss a family reunion.

Everything seemed simultaneously blurring, spinning and speeding up. Your hand shook, still in your sister’s grasp. Instead of looking at the dead man at your feet, she had focused on a spot over your shoulder. Only the fluttering pulse in her neck gave away her horror.

Nobody dared to say anything. Nobody dared to breathe. The few people that were in the throne room – mostly knights, Alicent, all her children and grandchildren – were silent.

You looked through the window at the sea, trying and failing to gulp down your tears. You felt Aegon’s intense eyes on your cheek but refused to give him the satisfaction of your attention.

It was long overdue to admit that you didn’t love your husband. You didn’t even like him. You certainly didn’t respect him. You tolerated him.

Your marriage had never been a happy one. He earned well, he had connections and didn’t want children – three things you wanted, needed and couldn’t give him anyway. Marriage for a woman of your birth – a disgraced Hand’s bastard child – was the only way to ever achieve anything. As long as it looked okay on paper – and in people’s eyes – it would do.

Your husband, though a good provider, was a nasty drunk and wasn’t above raising his voice – or hand – if he ever felt the need or urge to do so. In any other case, in any other life, you would be ecstatic to see his corpse – god knows you’ve dreamt of finishing the job yourself.

But in this case, in this life, this – his very dead, very bloody corpse – was bad.

Very bad.

Everything that made your life, you comfort and your opportunities, was tied to your husband. And all of those – your life, comfort and opportunities – now, just like your husband, were pulled apart on the floor.

- YOU SPOILED, LITTLE BRAT! – your voice boomed through the hall as you lunged for your nephew.

Your hands went around his throat, as you tried to cut off his air supply. Somewhere behind you your sister was screaming at you to let the king go. Some servants screamed out.

Aegon, however, looked only a bit of out breath. He had grown quite a lot, and your hold on his neck only made him a bit breathless. As you pushed him back against one of the pillars, he laughed at your efforts. Now, a head and a half longer than you, Aegon had the strength and height advantage. His laughter only made your blood boil more and you doubled down.

Somewhere right behind your back, heavy steps closed in.

The kingsguard, you thought, expecting, at the very least, to be thrown down on the floor for harming – or trying to harm – their king.

Aegon’s eyes shifted to where the sound came from, and they turned cold instantly.

- You touch her, and I’ll gut you myself, - he spoke to one of his guards, then his eyes shifted back to your face. – Let her tire herself out on me...

Even Alicent didn’t try to intervene, her voice repeating pleas to let her son go.

Seeing that this attempt was futile, you tried a different approach. You took your right hand away from his neck and punched him right below the left eye.

That took Aegon by surprise. Only for a small second though because then his lips stretched into the most genuine smile you had ever gotten from him.

- Damn, - he sounded actually impressed. – This is fun!

You took a step back, your energy and anger leaving your body, leaving you empty. Everything was useless. This was useless. If Aegon wanted to make your life hell, he would. There was no doubt about that. As the king, he had the capacity to completely destroy anyone’s life.

- What did he ever do to you? – you hated the tremble in your voice. – WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO YOU?

Aegon’s eyes were completely black, he was trying – and succeeding – to drown you in them.

He stepped close enough so that only you were able to hear his words:

- He took something he had no right to take, - his fingertip brushed over your lower lip. – He had to pay for that.

He motioned two of his guards towards him. As they approached, he lazily strode over to your husband’s dead body, knelt beside the mess and searched for something. Once he found it – you tried not to gag, as he lifted up your husband’s ripped-off right arm – he looked it over. Then he pulled something off one of your husband’s fingers. Once he had cleaned the blood off the tiny thing, you recognized a wedding ring. The same wedding ring you had slid on your – now dead – husband’s finger at the church.

Aegon smiled, as he lifted the ring higher up and carefully examined it.

- He won’t be needing this anymore, - he said more to himself than to you, then looked at you, his gaze sliding down to where the bottom of your green – why did you think it was a good idea to wear green? – dress was covered in blood, - take lady Y/N Hightower to her room.

You took a step back as the two knights took one forward.

You needed to leave. Right now.

Was your carriage still outside?

- You can go with my guards, peacefully and with your fragile pride intact, or I can carry you, - his eyes gleamed, as they slid over your trembling figure. – Which one do you think I’d enjoy more?

You swallowed hard and kept your chin up. He quietly laughed at your need to always come out prideful.

The last thing you saw before turning away to leave, was Aegon sliding your now dead husband’s ring on his own finger.

***

You were left to your own company for most of the day. Servants came and went, leaving you food you didn’t tried, bringing you dresses you didn’t touch and preparing baths you refused to take. You spend most of that time, exploring your colorful, little prison, trying to find a way out. The only way out though – the huge, open windows – would result in your certain death if you were to try.

Around dinner time – you had lost the ability to tell correct time but, given that you arrived early in the morning, it had to be an early evening now – the door opened again. You expected another line of servants bringing you shit you didn’t want but instead were greeted by the king himself. He closed the door, and for a long moment both of you just stared at each other. Then he quickly took in the unused bath and untouched food and clothing. When he looked back at you, he looked slightly irritated.

- Do you think starving yourself will help?

You shrugged apathetically.

He sighed as if he was the one dealing with an immature child. He took three large steps to end up in front of where you were sitting in a large, soft armchair. Aegon put both his hands on the armrests and leaned in closer. You leaned your head against the headboard to get away.

- You will eat everything that they brought you, then you’ll take a bath and put on any dress that you favor.

You snorted and turned your head away in an attempt to dismiss him. His fingers grasped your chin and roughly yanked you back.

- If you don’t, I’ll bathe you myself, pick the most revealing piece of clothing I can find in this castle and will make you sit on my lap, while I feed you by hand in front of our entire family.

- I get it, Aegon, you’re pissed I left, - you struggled in his grasp. – But killing my husband, someone who had done nothing to you, is taking it too far.

- He’s not your husband anymore. His filthy, undeserving body has been buried in the dirt where it belongs, - he sneered. – By all means, you’re a widow now, dear aunt.

In the dirt where it belongs.

Something sounded so familiar in those words.

- And you’re wrong, - Aegon leaned in closer, closing his eyes, as his lips touched your cheek. – I’m not pissed you left. I would’ve given you the freedom to explore your wishes and interests. I’m pissed you broke your promise.

I’m giving you the freedom to explore your wishes and interests.

You blinked. What was he-

- You promised you’d be by my side if I was ever forced to be king, - he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. – You promised you’d only ever marry me. You promised your hand to me.

Criston Cole is dead, killed for disrespecting the heir and is buried in the dirt where he belongs, was written in one of the first letters.

I’m giving you the freedom to explore your wishes and interests, was written in the very first letter.

If it makes you happy, you are free to tell Aegon I’ll never break our promise. There is only one person I’d ever give my hand to and that’s him, you had written back.

In one of your letters.

To Alicent.

Your eyes widened.

Aegon towered over you, watching you piece things together.

- It was never-

- No, dear aunt, in all these three years, you have never, not once, written to anyone else other than me, - he explained. – Letters from my mother were written by me. Gifts sent in my brother’s and sister’s names were from me. The art supplies for your maps with your father’s name on them, all me.

An unspoken question laid in your eyes.

- And, yes, even the letter inviting you here was from me.

He gave you a warm and welcoming smile.

- From now on, everything you eat will be mine, every piece of clothing you wear will be bought by me, every book you’ll read will be acquiered by me. And everything you are will be mine as well.

Your eyes slid over his frame, stopping at his right hand. Your dead husband’s wedding band was proudly slid on Aegon’s ring finger. He followed your eyes down with his own.

- Once you’re done eating, I’ll send the servants in once more for your bath. You’re gonna take it like the obedient good little girl I know you can be, - he assured. – Then you’re gonna put on a dress and come down with no tantrums.

You wanted to laugh into your nephew’s face. It was such a short time ago when he would be the one throwing tantrums and acting like a spoilt brat.

He kneeled down before you and slid his palms carefully up your thighs, resting them on your hips for a second before sliding them back down.

This put both of you around the same height – you sat on a chair and Aegon crouched down on the floor. Still, he had few inches on you. You carefully, to not anger him, took his wrists into your hands and moved them to rest on the armrests. His palms had burned a tingling path on your upper legs.

Once you moved to release his wrists, he quickly flipped the script and engulfed your own with his fingers. Not hurting. Just holding.

- I think you’re smart enough to understand that I would never hurt you, - he whispered, words sweet but tone cold. – That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hurt people you care about.

The unspoken threat was left in the air. There were only few people you cared about, and all of them were here – in King’s Landing, in this very castle. Your sister, his mother, and your father, Aegon’s grandsire.

He had made it clear that he would spill more blood – his own blood – to get what he wanted.

- We have so much to make up for.

Emotionless and apathetically you obeyed him. You ate, and even though food was one of the most delicious you’d ever tasted, you could only stomach few bites, gagging every time your husband’s decapitated body flashed before your eyes. You send the ladies away, bathed alone and then picked the first dress you saw.

All, of course, green.

Once you entered the hall, every person in it turned to face you. Everything was so formal. You tried to search for your sister or Aemond or perhaps Helaena but they seemed nowhere to be found. Aegon was standing at the furthest end of the crowd. Alongside with your father.

You felt a sudden rush of relief and even allowed yourself to smile. You had a difficult relationship with your father but he never let you down whenever you told him of a problem of yours. If anyone could make Aegon release you, it was him.

You rushed towards your father but the closer you got, the more your stomach dropped.

This was all wrong.

Aegon’s genuine smile.

Your father’s downcast eyes.

Alicent being nowhere to be found.

You abruptly stopped, seeing a small, delicate knife in your father’s hands.

Was Aegon planning on killing you too?

Oh shit.

Worse.

This wasn’t an execution.

This was a wedding ceremony.

Doors behind you closed with a loud bang. You looked around frantically, searching for someone – anyone – familiar to aid you but all you found were strangers.

You jumped, feeling Aegon’s fingers wrap around your wrist. He looked even taller now with his crown and all... You tried to pull away your hand but Aegon quickly grabbed the back of your neck with his other one. He leaned close enough for only you to hear and calmly explained:

- It’s done, sweetheart, - the calm he felt wasn’t contagious. – You will become my wife. Today. Right now.

You shook your head, eyes brimming with tears.

- Shhh, - he lovingly kissed your forehead and gathered you in his arms in what probably looked like a love-filled hug between a wife and a husband. – It’s all gonna work out, wife. I’ll make sure of it.

Your father cleared his throat in an obvious manner to interrupt.

Aegon rolled his eyes.

- We should probably start, - your father stammered out.

Your father had always said how much he later on regretted arranging Alicent’s marriage and how he would never ever force you, his youngest, to marry against her will. He was the only one who supported your marriage because you chose your own spouse.

What had Aegon promised him? Or worse – what had Aegon threatened to do? Your father didn’t dare to look you in the eye.

The ceremony was quiet and short. Aegon carelessly cut open his palm but took his time with yours, trying to make as small of a cut as possible. His large palm engulfed your own, blood – mostly his – dripping down from your intervened hands on the floor. Once it was done and your father had announced both of you married, Aegon’s bloody hands slid in your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss.

It was demanding and rough. Aegon put three long years of anger, longing, sadness and betrayal into that kiss, not caring that the high lords and ladies were witnessing everything. Once he had gotten his fill and his hands slid out of your hair, one of the council members threw out:

- Now about the bedding ceremony. Your wife has been previously married so she’s obviously not pure, though you could still perform the ceremony out of tradition and-

- Leave, - Aegon had taken a silk cloth and gently cleaned off blood from your neck where his hands had left it. – I want no part in it.

The council member looked over his shoulder for help from other guests. Nervously turning back, he tried to negotiate.

- But the tradition states-

- Get the fuck out of my sight before I coat my wedding sheets in your filthy blood, - Aegon spat out, addressing the council member. – I needed you here as witnesses, not as the annoying cunts that you all are.

The guests were frozen on spot.

- OUT! – Aegon’s voice bellowed, making you flinch.

As people hurried for the door, you slowly tried to make your way out as well. You were able to take two steps before your husband’s hand wrapped around your upper arm. He roughly pulled you into him, burying his face in your hair.

- Not. You, - he said, wrapping his other arm around your waist. – We have a wedding feast to attend.

You were a bit surprised that Aegon actually wanted to do something formal but you’d take a feast over a bedding ceremony any day so you quietly went with him. About three halls later, you realized that he was not leading towards the dining room or even the kitchen.

- Aegon, where are we-

- I requested the food to be brought to my - our - room. I didn’t want to share our first meal as husband and wife with anyone else.

There was no way he was not talking about sleeping together, right? This was Aegon. That was why you were even more surprised when the door opened to show an actual feast – actual food and drinks – placed on a large dining table in the middle of his room.

Your shock must’ve showed on your face because Aegon threw you an amused glance and quietly laughed.

- Don’t worry, wife, I will not bed you until you’re begging me to do so, - you wanted to interrupt to swear it’ll never happen but Aegon continued. – Though I believe it won’t take much begging, I’ve imagined this exact scenario every night for at least three years.

You sat down at the end of the table and watched you husband cut the cake and serve you a large piece. Then he opened wine and poured you some, all the while nudging you to eat. Due to nerves, eating wasn’t as enjoyable even though food was delicious. After two glasses of wine you realized you had made a mistake – you had lost your focus of Aegon. You found him sitting next to you, watching you with uninterrupted focus.

How long has he sat like this? Watching. Observing.

He wasn’t even eating.

He hadn’t even served himself anything.

You carefully chewed food:

- Aren’t you going to eat anything?

- I’ll wait for you to finish, - he encouraged you to continue eating with a nod towards the plate. – Eat.

You swallowed and pushed the plate aside. Your hand already reached for the glass but you changed your mind last minute. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be tipsy around Aegon.

- I think I’m done, - you quietly announced.

Your husband calmly nodded. Then he stood up, stepped beside you, turned your chair to face him and leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

This kiss was a chaste one. Innocent. Affectionate.

Next thing you felt was a strangling feeling around your right wrist. Your eyes shot open and you looked down to where you wrist was tied to the arm of the chair. Using your surprise, Aegon quickly grabbed your left wrist to repeat the action. You tried to buck free from his made-up prison but the restraints wouldn’t budge.

- What the hell is the matter with you? – you shouted.

Of course. Of-fucking-course, as soon as a glimpse of gentleness showed itself in Aegon, he doubled down in possessiveness.

He look down at you and smiled. Tied. So helpless. So pretty. There was not one flaw he could find. Not that he spend a lot of time looking for one.

- I think it’s time for my feast, dear wife, - Aegon said, as he dropped down on his knees in front of you.

- What are you-

Objections and confusion subsided, as your husband started lift the skirts of your wedding gown. Aegon’s hot breath burned your skin, as he kissed his way up your legs. His right hand grabbed the back of your left knee and he roughly pulled you forward in your seat. The coldness of his wedding ring – the same your dead husband wore – sent chills down your spine every time it touched your skin.

It felt so wrong. So dirty. Your ex husband was just murdered in cold blood few hours ago. Now his murderer was on his knees in front of you, feasting on every inch of your skin.

As if guessed your thought process, Aegon spoke up from under your gown:

- I wish I could’ve fucked you right there, in your husband’s spilled blood, - his raspy voice and hot breath against your inner thighs made your eyes roll back. – Even more, I wanted to keep him alive long enough for his last memory being his wife cumming for another man. His wife screaming for another man.

His fingers slowly entered you, as his lips wrapped around your clit. An involuntary moan fell from you lips. Aegon chuckled against your core.

- I never imagined you’d be this sensitive, - he half whispered, his fingers slowly moving in and out of you. – I love it.

You were no virgin by any measure, being married previously and all, but your previous husband didn’t care much for pleasing you. Aegon seemed to find great pleasure in teasing you. In enjoying you.

When either by accident or intention his fingers hit a sensitive spot deep inside you, you moaned out louder. You’d be embarassed if you could string together two words at this moment.

- Aegon, I’m-

- No, you’re not, - he roughly pulled his fingers away. – You’re not allowed to cum until your king allows it. Be a good little wife and obey your husband.

You wanted to scream in frustration, being so close to pleasure and it being taken away. You opened your mouth to cuss him out, when you felt his tongue delve right where his fingers were just mere seconds ago.

Words died on you lips, as your head fell back against the chair. You wished your hands had been free so you could press your mouth shut so Aegon didn’t get to hear your whimpers. You bit your lip so hard it hurt but the pain was still nothing compared to the upcoming pleasure.

- I’m not hearing you, wife, - Aegon pulled few inches away from between your legs. – If you want to cum, I suggest you start begging.

Self-respect was overrated anyway.

- Please, Aegon, - you whined, your voice breaking. – Please, make me cum.

His lips wrapped around your clit once more, pleasure growing one moment and ceasing the next.

- If you really want it, you should call me by my real title...

He sounded so careless, as if he didn’t care either way whether you came or not. On the other hand, you were slowly losing your mind tied to a chair and forced to endure his torture.

At any other moment, you would’ve thought twice before calling Aegon king but it didn’t matter now. You could always pick up the pieces of your broken pride afterwards.

- My king, - your voice was small, as you begged. – Please.

All he did was chuckle, sending small bursts of air through your core.

- That’s not who I am to you, - he corrected.

Then it dawned on you what exactly was that he wanted to hear.

Your heart skipped a beat for the first time in a very long time.

- Please, make me cum, - your own voice was dark with lust, as you added, - husband...

Aegon’s breath faltered against you for a second.

- Fucking finally, - he whispered, before delving right back to his feast.

As his lips sucked on your clit once more, you felt yourself fall over. All you could do was call Aegon’s name and try not to lose consciousness, feeling your husband’s rough fingers imprinting themselves on your thighs.

After what felt like eternity, you felt the pleasure subside. Your fingers were lightly shaking, still tied to the chair. Aegon rose up from beneath you, his lips glistening with your arousal and eyes black, filled with lust and desire.

All you could do was stare at him with wide eyes and pray he just untied you and left you alone. Or maybe fearing he’d do exactly that...

He slowly licked his lips, tasting you on them once more. Then he started untying your still shaking hands, all the while your eyes didn’t leave him face.

Was this all? Are you expected to leave?

Did you want to leave?

Did he want you to leave?

- Aegon-

- Do you want me to fuck you tonight? – he lifted his head to look at you and asked casually.

Even though the inner battle was quite intense, you definitely weren’t ready for that. Your thoughts were still jumbled inside your head, and you wanted to think about everything before making any further decisions.

You slowly shook your head, afraid of his reaction.

- Ok, - he said softly and leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. – Get ready for bed.

As you stood up and turned to leave, Aegon cleared his throat.

- You’re sleeping here, - he clarified. – I meant what I said, from now on you won’t leave my sight. Or my bed. You’ll be my dutiful wife and my most precious possession. My honorable queen and my dirty little whore.

He had changed so much during these years.

- We have a lot of time to make up for, wife.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #imagine #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #dark imagine #tom glynn carney

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visenyaism · 2 years

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otto said vhagar was worth one thousand times the price aemond paid for him (one eye) so f(x)= dragon=one thousand eyes. brynden “bloodraven” rivers has “a thousand eyes and one” but has yet to exchange the magic equal in worth to visenya’s dragon for said visenya’s dragon BUT he DOES have something else important of hers so in the winds of winter you see-

#hotd #this means nothing but one thousand eyes!!!!!! huge #here’s how bloodraven giving dark sister to meera reed in twow is part of the aemond sweep #dark sister up. and otto hightower laughs

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manderleyfire · 1 year

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I shall await your call, my Queen.

#hotdedit #gotedit #houseofthedragonedit #larys x alicent #alicent x larys #larycent #alicenthightoweredit #larys strong #alicent hightower #game of thrones #ahahahahahahahahah #me 2 me: look babe there's another larycent edit #finally out of my system #shitty things i do for love #it's amusing how they share like five mutual scenes yet have so many delicious lines??? wow #TRUTH HAS MANY FLAVORS YOUR GRACE #honestly my new fav larycent quote why didn't i go mad about it enough before???#alsooo what a shady move to bring up otto in every conversation #'it is a dark day for the realm. your father was a good man' 'your father knows this but has left it in place.'#'you cannot say my queen that your father would be impartial in this matter' 'i assume you will write to your father now?'#'if otto hightower were still the hand' ... 'love stays the hand love is a downfall' i mean *gunshots*#whatta high end engineering an x-ray examination of her being #it feels like a part of him has known her since the beginning of everything #like one side of the moon can't see another but knows it #it’s only natural for a broken half longing to become whole after all #LIKE CALLS TO LIKE #so of course he shall await her call #heh look we've come full circle which is pretty cool

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chimerathewriter · 2 years

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Baela Targaryen

"Aegon one more comment, and is on sight"

" Oh my god me and Jace are not related, we literally are 10th cousin or something, and no her mum is not fuking my dad"

see other aesthetic

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witchofvalyria · 2 years

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Why is no one talking of how Daemon talked about the maesters' conspiracy in this episode??

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sophiemariepl · 2 years

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Me: *being me, chilling and supporting the Blacks as usual #RhaenyraIsMyQueen4Eva*

Meanwhile, the Greens: Come to us, we have cookies!

Me: Huh, what kind of cookies can YOU have? Aegon II? Aegon is a joke, a definition of everything I dislike in a man…

The Greens: *pull out their wild card*

The wild card:

Me: *faints*

That’s how I became Aemond’s fangirl and apologist no. 1 😆

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bananadrinkxxx · 10 months

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The BLOOD CROWN

[Aemond Fanfiction ] reposted on wattpad

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC female!

Warning: Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers.

Summary

"𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗤𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹."

Queen Alicent had spoken the truth when these words had left her mouth, the moment the King decided not to punish Princess Rhaenyra's son for taking the eye of her child. In the night, in the safe place of her chambers, she gave the order to have Lucery's Velaryon taken and sold into slavery. But a regrettable misunderstanding causes Larys Strong's men to take, not the culprit, but Aemma Velaryon, Rhaenyra's youngest child, and banish her to a life of suffering and loneliness.

Aemma Velaryon had not been seen since then but the gods do not forget and sometimes fate strikes back harder than you would have expected.

PART 3

Rose Flowers

they called her.

A strange name as she found.

Her mother had loved flowers, and the second name was the name given to bastards.

Just as in the North every bastard was called Snow, or in the Riverland Rivers, the bastards of the Reach were called Flowers.

Rose had to admit that although she found the name beautiful, she secretly loathed it, for it revealed her for what she really was.

A bastard.

If you belonged around Smallfolk, the high lords looked down on you. But if you were additionally a bastard, even the Smallfolk looked down on you.

Rose was used to it. She knew it no other way. She had resigned herself to her fate, accepted it for what it was. She couldn't change it, and any thought of it was a waste of her time.

She remembered how her mother had always braided flowers into her hair.

Rose had loved it until she realized the ambiguity.

She didn't believe her mother had meant to shame her. She had been a good woman. A little bit cold and distant but still a good woman. She had lacked maternal warmth, but Rose did not want to be ungrateful. Still, the other children had enjoyed teasing her about her status as a bastard.

Rose bore no resemblance to her mother. Neither in character nor outwardly. While her mother was broadly built and tall, Rose was of a petite nature. They had also not resembled each other in the face, which is why Rose assumed that she must resemble her father. A man she would probably never meet.

"Did you bring yourself a playmate, brother?"

A laugh could be heard.

Rose mind was brought back.

Rose did not know how she had imagined the king, or what expectations she had of him. What she did not expect, however, was to be received with such shameful words.

The king was sitting on the iron throne she had heard so much about. Light blond hair, blue eyes and fair skin. The typical appearance of a Targaryen.

She had heard about the impressive sight of the throne, adorned with the swords of the enemies of the kingdom, but having it right in front of her eyes gave her a completely different picture of the power of the Targaryens.

Rose stood behind Prince Daeron, head bowed, in a submissive posture, as someone in her position was bound to do.

"No, Aegon, I-" began Daeron but stopped mid-sentence as he realized his mistake. The king in front raised an eyebrow, the man next to him, also with the features of a Targaryen, just rolled his eyes. Or rather, his eye.

This had to be Prince Aemond, the one-eyed prince. Next to him the Mother of the King, Queen Alicent, who looked less than thrilled with her son's choice of words. Rose recognized her just by the fact that she was dressed completely in green. Green dress, green jewelry.

"How must I address you now?"

Aegon made a gesture as if he had to think. "I think honorable brother would suffice for me."

"Of course," Daeron said charmingly, and the king laughed.

"So now tell me who your new friend there is?" Aegon asked, cocking his head to the side.

He pointed to Rose and all eyes turned to her. She saw the curious look of Queen Helaena, the critical look of the Queen Mother, and the judgmental look of Otto Hightower, but the look with which she regarded Aemond Targaryen was the most memorable.

He was tall and muscular, dressed in black. A good-looking man, Rose thought, but his gaze was anything but inviting. It was cold, almost hostile. He did not seem thrilled that his brother had brought a stranger with him. His lips were pressed together into a thin line, his features hard.

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

Daeron turned to her briefly. "She was my servant in Oldtown and proved her loyalty there. I think she would be a valuable asset, these days, brother."

"Is that so?"

Aegon leaned back in his throne. He let his gaze glide over Rose's body and smiled.

"I would like to introduce her to our sister as a chamberlain, brother."

Aegon nodded, making a face as if he had to make an important decision.

"Well, then, welcome, dear Rose," Aegon declares, arms spread wide. "What a sight you are after so many difficult days here in the capital," Aegon said, blue eyes that danced joyfully when they noticed her discomfort. "We are happy that you are here, giving us the ... comfort we all need."

Rose understood perfectly what the king implied. She was not stupid.

"Thank you my king, I will not fail you." She bowed deeply.

Aegon sneers, opening his mouth only to be cut off by his grandfather "I think that's enough, my king. We have important political matters we-". She had already seen Otto Hightower several times when he had visited his brother. A dismissive man who took little interest in servants.

"Yes, yes," Aegon waved his hand as if talking to a pesky insect.

"So, what's the plan?"

Aegon looked to Lord hand that gave Rose a suspicious look. "I would suggest that we discuss these matters rather in, more private."

"Irrelevant, Rose here is one of us now," Aegon said dismissively, putting it as if Rose were part of the family."If she is assigned to my sister's wife, then she will certainly hear several of these conversations, so go ahead, Lord Hand."

Otto Hightower did not look enthusiastic, but he seemed to swallow the words burning on his tongue and decide to let the king have his way.

"I am sure that Princess Rhaenyra will have already received the news of the rightful coronation, your Grace. Nevertheless, I fear that this coronation will not be accepted without objection on her part. Especially when we consider that Prince Daemon Targaryen is at her side. I would therefore like to suggest that tomorrow we visit Princess Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, to give her an ultimatum."

"An ultimatum?," Aegon repeated critically, almost annoyed. "I do not know my uncle well, Grandsire, but I know that Daemon Targaryen would rather see me dead than on the Iron Throne. Even if Rhaenyra accepts the coronation, I hardly think Daemon isn't already imagining our heads on a spike."

Probably where he belonged, Rose thought, because if the rumor she had heard since her arrival was that Aegon Targaryen had stolen the throne from Princess Rhaenyra, then he would be a usurper and a traitor. The highest form of treason.

But since Rose had little to do with politics, she ultimately did not care who sat on the iron throne, as long as it was someone who was not a tyrant.

"Rose, be a sweet girl and bring me more wine!"

Aegon Targaryen raised his cup. Rose looked in surprise at Daeron, who tilted his head slightly to nod at her. She was surprised by the invitation.

He was already drinking wine in the morning?

"Brother, I think you had enough wine," Aemond Targaryen interjected critically, but his brother gave him a snide look.

"It's never enough, brother."

Her gaze brushed Aemond Targaryen's.

She had the feeling that he was staring straight into her soul.

It was almost challenging as if he wanted her to choose between him and his brother. As if she had a choice.

She therefore did as the king commanded and went to the table to take the wine jug. She approached the throne.

"Don't be shy, come on," Aegon said impatiently, waving the cup. No one present seemed impressed with Aegon's desire for wine.

"Aegon, I don't think you should be drinking at this time," Alicent interjected but Aegon looked at her annoyed.

"Mother, the best wars are planned with wine."

"A war is to be avoided at all costs, your Grace," Otto objected.

"Well, then peace is better planned with it," Aegon amended his statement, nodding at a uncomfortable Rose. "Come on."

Rose followed the invitation and stepped out the steps to the iron throne. The king surveyed her and smiled as she filled his cup.

"More," he said when Rose had filled it. His hand touched hers and she had to control herself not to pull it back. "More, girl," repeated impatiently when Rose still hadn't refilled it enough. The cup was now filled to the top with wine.

"I think we'll postpone that conversation to a later time," Otto Hightower suggested. "I myself will visit 'Dragonstone' as Hand of the King to urge Princess Rhaenyra to bend the knee."

Aegon merely nodded as he drank from his cup. Rose took this as an invitation to return to her place. As she did so, she glanced at Aemond Targaryen, who looked at his brother with disgust. Obviously, the two brothers did not have a good relationship.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation.

A servant approached Rose and signaled her to follow.

She was now officially a maid at the Red Keep.

"That's Dyana, she will show you everything," the girl who had led her to the servants' chambers, pointed to a girl with dark blond hair. Dyana turned around startled, her eyes fearful.

"Dyana, come here."

Dyana answered the call and curtsied to the woman. "What can I do, Tayla?" she asked, intimidated.

"This is, Rose, she is assigned to Queen Helaena, thus taking your role. I want you to instruct her in her duties."

Dyana winced. She did nothing but nod, but Tayla seemed not to care. "Perform your duties conscientiously and keep quiet when there is nothing to talk about," Tayla said to Rose, but strangely Rose did not feel that Tayla was just talking to her. Without waiting for an answer, she left the chamber and Rose waited for Dyana to say something.

She watched Dyana play with her fingers and bite her lip.

Why was she so distraught?

"Do you already have tasks for me?" Rose tried to start a conversation. Dyana looked at her in surprise, as if she had forgotten she was standing next to her.

She nodded. "You can follow me, I'll show you around."

Dyana then followed her around the castle, showing her the most important points and talking to her about the queen's preferences.

"And the king?" asked Rose curiously, and Dyana flinched, startled. She stopped suddenly and turned to her.

"You stay away from the king," Dyana said coldly and her sudden change of mood, startled Rose. She had seemed frightened all along, but now an expression entered her face that Rose could not interpret. She did not seem to be very enthusiastic about the king.

"Your job is to take care of the queen and the children. Do not enter the king's chambers unless the Queen is present, do you hear?"

Dyana looked at her seriously. Rose looked at her in irritation, but only nodded.

The girl surveyed her face for a while before taking a satisfied breath and turning back around. For the rest of the way, they didn't talk much. Dyana assigned her more tasks and Rose did her best to remember the many new rules.

"What is this scar on your forehead?" the little princess Jaeheara asked, touching Rose's face. She was an open, curious girl, with the most beautiful eyes Rose had ever seen.

"Oh, this one?," Rose's fingers went to her scar. "I fell and hit a rock."

"Well, that's silly," the princess judged.

Rose laughed. "Yes, it is. That was silly indeed."

So silly, in fact, that she had no memory of it at all. Her mother had told her that she had played, but Rose could remember nothing. All the memories that clung to the time before the fall had faded, no longer existed. She had been told that with such a fall, memory could be lost, and that it would eventually come back, but in Rose's case, that had never happened.

She did not mourn her lost memories. How could you miss something you could not remember?

However, it was still strange.

"That's enough, Jaeheara," the queen mother said signed Rose to stand up. The girl obeyed and ran to their mother. Helaena smiled when she ran into her arms.

Queen Helaena had called her in to meet the children.

"My son has praised you, girl."

"I am honored by that, your highness."

"In these times, loyal subordinates are very important to us. I want to make sure your loyalty is placed in the right place."

Rose looked up. Alicent's eyes were cool, not cold, but distant. She looked tired, exhausted, yet regal. She surveyed Rose's face and realized that the Queen Mother was expecting an answer.

"My loyality belongs to King Aegon II and your family, Queen Alicent. Prince Daeron has always shown me nothing but kindness, a kindness I will never forget. I am in your debt."

Apparently she had found the right words, for after a brief sampling, Alicent gave a pleased smile.

"I'm glad to hear that, child," her voice was suddenly softer. "What was your name again?"

"Rose Flowers, if it pleases you."

"Flowers?," Alicent repeated in surprise, looking to Daeron who sat next to Aemond. "A bastard?"

Daeron looked at his mother in irritation. "Since when is that a problem?"

Alicent seemed to want to say something, calculating her words, but instead of saying them, she pressed her lips together. She turned to Rose, and smiled again, as if nothing had happened.

"I've heard you have been instructed in your duties?"

"Yes, your Grace."

Alicent nodded with satisfaction and eyed Rose for a moment. Her eyebrows drew together.

"Who are your parents, child?"

Rose looked up in surprise and glanced briefly at Daeron, who also seemed irritated by the question. Prince Aemond, on the other hand, seemed bored or disinterested in the conversation. He stared into the fire and seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

"I only knew my mother, your highness. She was a cook. I never met my father, a name I was never given."

Alicent observed her face. It seemed like she was looking for something. She smiled before turning to her sons.

"I expect you in my chambers for dinner. We will dine together."

She turned away from Rose as if nothing had happened.

"Look, you are here, and suddenly we are family," Prince Aemond breathed to his younger brother, loud enough for Rose's ears but quiet enough for the ears of the Queen Mother.

"Rose, tell the kitchen that we will have our meal in my chamber," Alicent ordered and Rose bowed to obey the command.

Since there seemed to be a sickout among the servants, Rose had been given more chores to make up for the staff shortage.

"This is Lord Hand's bedding," Dyana informed her, pressing white sheets into her arms. "Since Luise has been lying broken in her bed since this morning, it is now your job to change it."

"Where can I find Lord Hand's chambers?"

Dyana raised an eyebrow. "Were you listening to me this morning?"

"Of course, sorry, it's just a lot to remember."

Dyana nodded. "You're right, so you're going towards-" Dyana began to give her directions and Rose did her best to follow, but it was hard for her to concentrate after today.

It took almost ten breaths for her to forget the way again.

Irritated, she stood in the hallway when the option of going left or right presented itself.

Had Dyana said left or right?

Rose had to suppress the feeling of crying.

That began excellently.

Finally, she decided to turn left and followed Dyana's further instructions, which, thank the gods, she had noticed.

When she arrived at Lord Hand's chambers, a guard let her in.

The chamber was decorated in green and Rose let her gaze glide around the room for a brief moment. The decoration did not seem like that of a young prince, but who was she to judge such a thing. She just hadn't expected it.

Not wanting to be labeled slow on her first day, Rose walked to the bed with the fresh linens, only to find that the bed had already been made.

Irritated, her eyebrows drew together.

Had Dyana made a mistake?

Rose was about to turn around when suddenly cold iron pressed menacingly against her neck.

A fright passed through her and as she tilted her head slightly, a pointed blade presented itself to her right.

"Is it common for maids to barge into their masters' rooms unannounced?," she heard a male voice behind her. "Or is it more because you have something special in mind, girl?"

She had no idea who was behind her, but his voice sounded familiar.

"Sir, whoever you are, I entered your room with no ill intent, I-"

"Silence!" the voice behind her commanded harshly, and Rose flinched. The sword at her neck scratched at her skin, craving the blood that flowed in her.

"Turn around."

She followed the command and her eyes met those of Prince Aemond Targaryen. The bedclothes fell carelessly on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" The question was asked in a soft and deadly tone, his gaze was so cold and intense and the tip of the blade at her throat moved almost gently as he took a step forward. He tilted his head slightly.

Rose looked down submissively as she spoke her next words carefully. They might be her last. "I have been instructed to change Lord Hand's bedding. Forgive me, but in my clumsiness and ignorance, I entered the wrong room."

She didn't doubt for a moment that this man would cut off her head if he didn't like her answer.

"Hmm," the prince gave. "Clumsiness and ignorance are not welcome here, Rose." Her name rolled off his tongue as if he were playing with it, and she looked up in surprise. She hadn't expected the prince to remember her name.

"I don't know how my uncle ran his household, but misbehavior has consequences here."

"Consequences?," Rose repeated slightly anxiously, clearly aware that his sword was still at her neck.

Prince Aemond raised an eyebrow. "So you don't think there are any consequences to invading my rooms without permission?"

This was definitely a trap. No matter what Rose would say, it would hurt her in any case. Therefore, only one answer seemed most appropriate to her.

"Whatever pleases you, my prince."

Aemond smiled. But it wasn't a welcomed smile.

"As I please, you say? What do you think pleases me, girl?"

The corners of the prince's mouth pulled up slightly. She saw the satisfaction in his eye. The other was marked by a deep scar and an eye patch. What pain this injury must have brought.

"I will submit myself to the septa for punishment, if you wish, my prince."

Rose hoped that was exactly what he did not wish. She had no idea how the smallfolk was punished here, but Lord Hightower had been fond of whipping his servants for misbehavior.

The prince nodded, but it did not seem like an assent. Instead, the blade fell to the floor for a moment and its shiny and smooth tip picked up the fallen bedding.

Rose saw this as an invitation to grab the bedding, but before she could touch the white fabric, Prince Aemond dropped it. The next moment his hand gripped her throat and her back was pressed against the wall beside her.

Rose widened her eyes fearfully and stared directly into the cold face of the prince, who was only a few finger-widths away from her. He was even so close that she could feel his breath on her skin.

Her mouth went dry and her breath escaped in a whimper. Every muscle in her body tensed with fear.

She was sure he was feeling her racing pulse under his big hand.

"I don't trust my uncle's servants. Just because my brother trusts you, it doesn't mean I won't keep an eye on you. Don't take me as a fool. If you even think for a second of betraying us, I will slit your throat without hesitation, do you understand me?"

Rose opened her mouth, but not a word passed her lips. Fear paralyzed her and made her unable to think. Never in her life had she felt such fear.

She immediately believed Prince Aemond that he would kill her. She saw it in his look. He would not hesitate.

"I asked you if you understood me." His grip on her neck tightened. The air became perceptibly less.

Unable to force even a word out of her mouth, Rose merely nodded, afraid of what Prince Aemond would do to her if he didn't believe her.

"Hmm," came a slight hum from his lips, and he lifted his other hand to brush a lost strand of hair from her face. His hand was rough on her skin and yet they left a tingle on it. He surveyed her face for a moment before letting go. Rose gasped and watched anxiously as he turned away from her and left his chambers without another word. The door opened and closed quietly, and she was alone.

With a sobbing breath, she sank to her knees, wondering if it hadn't been a big mistake to beg Daeron to take her with him.

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novaursa · 2 years

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The Fall (One-Shot)

Targaryen!OC x Karstark!OC and one-sided Targaryen!OC x Daemon Targaryen one-shot. It could turn into a story if there is demand for it.

The intro is here.

The intro for part two is here.

Part two is here.

The intro for part three is here.

Part three is here.

The intro for part four is here.

Part four is here.

The intro for part five is here.

Part five is here.

The intro for part six is here.

Part six is here.

The intro for part seven is here.

Part seven is here.

The Plot: If Rhaenyra was the Realm's Delight, her younger twin sister Daenys, the second of her name, was its Summer. Born a few moments after her sister, Daenys was a surprise that no one expected. Very small with a head full of silver hair, she was pronounced dead before she took her first breath. But by the grace of the Gods, her lilac eyes fluttered open, and Queen Aemma cried tears of joy holding both of her babes in her loving embrace. Fast forward, King Viserys hosts a tournament to celebrate the birth of his third child. There Daenys meets Ser Artos Karstark, son of Lord Steffan Karstark.

- Disclaimer: I only own my OCs and other stuff you don’t recognize from the books and the show.

- Warning: This story is rated M. It will contain incest, violence, blood, gore and other mature themes. It is GoT fanfiction after all.

I, can fly You had me caged up like a bird in mid-summer You saw me waiting, I was crazy, on fire, waiting to fly I, can fly

If Rhaenyra was the Realm's Delight, her younger twin sister Daenys, the second of her name, was its Summer. Born a few moments after her sister, Daenys was a surprise that no one expected. Very small with a head full of silver hair, she was pronounced dead before she took her first breath. But by the grace of the Gods, her lilac eyes fluttered open, and Queen Aemma cried tears of joy holding both of her babes in her loving embrace. King Viserys cried with her from joy. He didn't get the male heir that he desired, but he did get two beautiful girls. And they were alive. Despite the warning from Grand Maester’s Mellos that chances for Daenys’ survival were slim, the girl survived. A lot smaller than her sister, there were other signs of clear differences from her twin. They were not identical. Daenys’ possessed a gentler face than her sister, and as she grew, it was evident that their personalities were different as well. Like her dragon Silixia, she was more tame, content in presence of her sister and mother. Rarely trying to be outspoken, Daenys often provided more logical solutions to the table. She supported her sister’s fires more often than not, but was always there to soothe them if there was a need for it. But today they both agreed to go flying with their dragons, despite their mother’s wishes. Silixia is cheerful today, the younger Princess noticed as she firmly grabs onto the saddle. Brass scaled dragon gracefully soared next to her sister’s golden one, letting out one strong roar. Syrax responded in the same manner, before dragons continued racing towards the Dragonpit. Roughly the same size, Silixia possessed a more serpentine frame and a slightly larger wingspan. She was also one of the more docile dragons, but was by no means harmless. Quite the contrary in fact, when angered she was a force not to be trifled with. As the Dragonkeepers unfortunately discovered. With their goal in sight, the first ones to land were Rhaenyra and Syrax with a large thud. A few moments later Silixia and Daenys followed. After dust cleared, Dragonkeepers approached the twins ready to take the scaled beasts into the catacombs. Daenys climb down off the Silixia with ease, her legs adjusting to the solid ground again. Moving her hand across the sharp and warm scales, she whispered quiet farewell to her dragon, as the brass beast purred in response.

"Welcome back, Princesses. I trust your ride was pleasant." Ser Harrold Westerling said from behind them. Just then, Daenys noticed a carriage waiting for them. Their friend Alicent Hightower smiling at them from the wagon. "Try not to look too relieved, ser." Rhaenyra jested as she climb down off Syrax, walking past the knight. Westerling frowns, "I am relieved. Every time those golden and bronze beasts bring you two back unspoiled, it saves my head from a spike."

"Trust me, Ser, we are safer on dragonback than in the Red Keep." Daenys smiles at the man following after her twin closely. As they approached the carriage, the older Princess spoke up again. "Syrax and Silixia are growing quickly." She said to Alicent. "They’ll soon be as large as Caraxes. That’s almost large enough to saddle two." Brown-haired girl slightly wrinkled her nose, smile still on her lips, "I believe I’m quite content as a spectator, thank you."

"Dohaeras."

Daenys turned her head towards the dragons and Dragonkeepers who were trying to lead both dragons back into the catacombs. Silixia gave her one last glance accompanied by the purr before obeying her caretakers. Syrax was not so content to return with her kin, "Naejot!" Golden dragon roared in defeat slowly going after Silixia. Younger Princess sighs and enters the carriage with her sister and friend already seated inside.

I had bright wishes in the summer, I was bathing in sunlight Painting in the garden like a ghost in Mid-July Running fast from something with my eyes wide like Saucers spinning in the sun I had a dream that I was fine I wasn't crazy, I was divine

"Ah… Rhaenyra, Daenys." She could hear her mother's soft voice as they approached her. There was a slight disproving note to it and concern lingering in the air. To Daenys, her mother was the most beautiful woman in the whole world, with the most beautiful violet eyes she has ever seen. Even now, as she was resting from the pregnancy and her growing belly, Aemma was the most perfect woman for Dany. She looked tired, pale and in pain. She was hurting, like she came back from a long day of hunting. It pained Queen’s youngest to see her mother like this. And see have seen her like this all too often. Daenys always prayed for her mother to give birth to a boy. She prayed to Gods to save her mother and relieve her of so much pain. "You two know I don’t like you to go flying while I’m in this condition. Daenys, I expected you to stop your sister from such ideas."

Her mother’s voice pulls Dany back from her thoughts, "You don’t like us to go flying while you’re in any condition. Besides, we needed a little time for ourselves." She smiled gently at her mother, taking a seat next to her with Rhaenyra.

"Your Grace." Alicent greeted politely as she approached with the twins.

"Good morrow, Alicent." Queen smiles back.

"Did you sleep?" Rhaenyra asked when her mother’s focus was back at her and Daenys.

"I slept."

Daenys frowned with worry while her twin pressed further. "How long?"

"I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra." Their mother said back trying to dismiss their concerns with a wave of the hand. Rhaenyra however was not afflicted, "Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you."

"She’s right, mother," Daenys adds in support of her twin. "Someone has to look after you too." She said softly.

"You will lay in this bed soon enough, Daenys. You too, Rhaenyra." Aemma started giving her both girls sympathy as much as a warning with her words. "This discomfort is how we serve the realm." Dany frowned. She has seen what happened to her mother every time, in every pregnancy. She has seen her cries, mourning her lost children. Is this our duty as women? Silver-haired girl thought while her nails went into the palm of her hand drawing blood. Her small hands turned into fists of grief, Is our duty to be broodmares until we die? Daenys always wanted to be a mother, but she was terrified of it at the same time. Traumatized from a very young age by her mother’s experiences, Daenys often had nightmares of childbirth. Almost every night she would dream about her dead siblings, she would get to know them like they are alive… and then lose them.

Rhaenyra next to her made a grimace, "We’d rather serve as knights and ride to battle and glory. Right, Dany?" She gave her younger twin a glance, their mother’s laughter only filled the room. Few attendants passed behind them before Aemma finally spoke up amused still, "We have royal wombs, us three. The child bed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip. Now take a bath. Both of you stink of a dragon." She waved them off.

Daenys stood up first, giving her mother a goodbye smile, "Let’s go Rhea," she said putting her arm on her sister’s shoulder. Soon they were both out of the room on their way to the Council Meeting, promptly ignoring their mother’s request to take a bath. Alicent left to her own room, leaving the twins alone with two knights of Kingsguard escorting them.

"Do you think Mother will recover?" Rhaenyra asks her sister softly.

"I pray to Gods every night for that Sister." The younger girl replied, holding her sister’s hand as they approached the meeting.

Your lies were hard kisses in the summer I was dreaming of a lake Dreaming of the water where I'd rise like a phoenix Or an iron from the fire I've got things to tell you like I know that you're a liar I had a dream that I was fine I wasn't crazy, I was divine

"Rhaenyra, Daenys, you’re late. The Kings’ cupbearers must not be late. Leaves people wanting for cups." Their father’s voice echoed as they hurriedly begin to do their duty. Both of them begin pouring wine into council members' cups. Daenys stood next to her father filling the cup that was before him, "We were visiting Mother." She added quickly. Her father didn’t even need to sniff her dragon riding clothes to know where they were beforehand. "On dragonback?" Viserys allowed himself a smile looking from Daenys to Rhaenyra.

"Your Grace, at Prince Daemon’s urging, the crown has invested significant capital in the re-training and re-equipping of his City Watch." Lyman Beesbury brought back conversation into its tracks. The meeting went by quickly, concluding that the tourney will take place so that the whole realm may celebrate the birth of their new monarch. Oh, how I wish this babe to be a boy. Daenys sighted defeated. She was back in her chambers waiting for her bath to be prepared. Looking at herself in the mirror she saw that today left a visible mark on her. Her hair was slightly messy, but her silver locks were holding themselves still in place, her lilac eyes told the truth though. I want nightmares to end. She told herself while lifting to inspect the palm of her hand where her nails have dug in. Please Gods, or whoever can hear me, let my mother have a boy. She gave herself another quick glance in the mirror before starting to take off her riding gear. But before she had a chance, a knock was heard coming from her chamber doors. She didn’t even turn her head as she spoke, expecting her servants to bring the water for the bath. "Come in."

"Princess," to her surprise it was the voice of Ser Harrold Westerling. "I’m sorry for intruding. Your Uncle is here, he wishes to speak with you."

Now that surprised her a little, not that she would ever show that on her face. She hadn’t seen Daemon in a very long time. He had a habit of coming suddenly, bringing all kinds of gifts from all over the world to both twins. He also made a habit of coming to see Daenys, to tell her the stories of his travels. For the most part, the Princess didn’t mind, she loved her Uncle. Sometimes it would seem that she and her sister were the only ones that do. But sometimes Daenys couldn’t help but feel something has… changed. She has become on edge last time he visited, she noticed things. Subtle things like lingering stares or unnoticed touches. The girl was no fool, she knew of her family tradition. Brothers were wed to sisters, cousins to cousins, uncles to nieces... and she wanted no part in it. Such practices were the cause of her mother’s pain. Miscarriage, stillbirths, madness, and other curses. She did wonder why she, though. Why her, the second born? She had no choice in any matter. She is to be wed to some Lord for her father’s political gain. Even if she was born as a second son, Daenys would inherit nothing but a name. Maybe that’s why. She concluded. On some level, we’re the same.

"Let him in." She finally said. The knight bowed down and left her chambers. Few moments passed before Daemon entered.

"Uncle, you surprised me yet again. I wasn’t expecting you so soon and late at the same time." She said turning towards him, but didn’t not approached him. "Did you come for the tourney?"

Daemon studied her from across the room. She looked older, more serious, and tired. "For the most part." He answered slowly starting to approach her. The silver-haired girl stood her ground; closely watching him like dragon would its keepers. This only seemed to amuse him more as he drew closer to her, "And to see you, of course."

"You could care less for formalities." She pressed further still watching Daemon carefully. He too seemed exhausted, possibly from a long day of flying. "So, what is it?"

She could see slight hurt betraying on his face, ping of guilt passed through her, but only for a moment, "You used to love my visits." He said.

"I did."

"You look worried." He continued, approaching her more.

Daenys left a sigh that she was holding in, "I’m scared for my mother. I hope she gives birth to a boy so she can be spared further pain."

"And if she doesn’t?"

You would be next in line for the throne. Even if my father and Otto Hightower would be against it. She concluded in her mind but remained silent. He was right in front of her now, trying to read her mind; she could clearly see deep purple in his eyes. The color seemed much warmer than her lilac ones at this moment. "Marry me." It came out in High Valyrian. And there it was. Daemon knew she wasn’t stupid, in fact, he found her more grounded twin. He expected some kind of reaction from her. But she remained unreadable. He was in no way subtle in his advances towards her, it even reached his brother. Viserys told him to stay away from her, forbade him even, but how could he? Dragon rider was in awe of her since she became a woman grown. He was hers, she only needed to say it.

"No." She spoke slightly breaking something in him. "The right mind has finally left you, Uncle. You have a wife." Her melodic voice was heard as she stood her ground looking him in the eyes. Daemon towered over her small frame as he continued his approach. "I can get rid of her, you only have to ask. You could be my Queen."

"No."

He was now right in front of her, their lips almost touching. Daenys didn’t even flinch. "You don’t wish to be on the Iron Throne?"

She was quiet for a while, "No." And she really didn’t want to. That seat was a game and she wanted no part in it. She would be forever happy in the position she is in now. The Throne suited Rhaenyra far more than her. "I will not be a tool for your power climbing." She said walking passed him towards a window. She looked into the night, "Is there anything else, Uncle?" She didn’t turn her head as she asked. After silence that she thought lasted the whole eternity, Daenys could hear something being placed on the table below her mirror.

"I brought you a gift," Daemon said. Daenys thought he sounded defeated, but one could never tell with him. "I’ll see you tomorrow." He gave a promise; the silver-haired girl gave another wave of silence in return. Eventually, he left closing the doors of her chambers behind him. The girl allowed herself to relax, but she remained wary turning her attention to the gift Daemon left on her desk. It was a necklace. She frowned, This will be another long night.

Your words cut like a knife in butter I was fighting for my art Fighting with my lover, you had me so tied up Thinking there's no other Yeah, right

Yeah, right

The next day, Daenys was spending a pleasant day with her twin and Alicent in the gardens. They were laughing, and for the moment both Princesses managed to put their worries to the side. Daenys didn’t have goodnight's sleep, curtsy of Daemon. And the nightmares. She had a dream about her unborn brother again, but it was different. The boy was a dragon. So was she; and they were flying. They flew all across the burning fields; they passed the Narrow Sea and even all of Essos. Then he began to fall. He hit the ground with such ferocity that the ground shook, cried, and bled. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. And Daenys woke up screaming. She dared not to interpret such dreams, Flying dreams are dangerous things that are seldom true. Daenys remanded herself once again.

"Did you forget to bring your book, Daenys?" Alicent asked her noticing that her friend was again in deep thoughts. She was sitting in the middle of the twins, enjoying the sun and stories with Rhaenyra, when she noticed that Daenys was silent for a while. They were about to start reading their books, when she notices absence of Daneys’ literature.

"Oh," Daenys exclaimed in realization. "It appears I did. I’ll be right back!" She picked her dress up as she began to run towards the halls, leaving the garden behind her. Her sister’s voice called behind her, "Dany, hurry back! They’ll bring cake soon!" She smiled to herself at her sister’s remark while hurrying down the hallway, while Ser Harrold was trying to keep up with her. Desperately, trying not to lose the Princess in the maze of hallways. She almost reached the royal library when she collided with something hard just around the corner. She was thrown back and fell to the floor, "Princess!" Ser Harrold panicked. The knight quickly helps Daenys up from the floor, trying to find any injuries.

"I do sincerely apologize, My Lady! I wasn’t aware you were coming."

The object into which she crashed was in fact a person. And it just apologized. She collected herself and her dignity from the floor, "No need for it, it was my fault." She said softly finally looking into whom she crashed. It was a man, slightly older than her it would appear. A Northerner, she could tell by his accent. Brown hair, blue eyes, handsome. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, My luck must be the worst in the world. Not only I made a fool of myself, but I had to do it in front of a handsome man. Honorable one too, as it seems. She studied him a little more; he wore light black armor, with a white sunburst on the chest plate. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings, Lord Karstark." Ser Harrold spoke behind her.

"Once more, Princess, you have my apologies. I hope you are not hurt. And please, Ser Westerling, Lord Karstark is my father." The Northerner quickly added, smiling at the Kingsguard and Daenys. The girl felt her cheeks getting hot again.

Ser Harrold nodded politely, "Are you here for the tourney, Ser Artos?"

"Aye," He answered. "My Lord father came with King’s invite. We arrived just this morning."

"I hope your trip was pleasant." Daenys offered a smile back. Her confidence coming back to her.

"It was, my Princess. Thank you." He answered her, trying to compose himself silently. I just had to walk into the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and make a fool out of myself. Artos held her gaze taking her whole appearance; silver hair, lilac eyes, black dress decorated with red scales. To him, she was more majestic than any dragon her family had. This must be the younger one, he concluded after he saw her gentle features looking back at him. The man was in awe.

"If you need help around the Red Keep, Ser Artos, feel free to ask for me." The girl spoke up.

Good Gods, even her voice is perfect. "Thank you for your offer, Princess, I’m sure we will see one another more during the tourney." Artos bowed his head before he continued on his way, saying goodbye to Ser Harrold.

Daenys blushed one hundred times over, completely forgetting where she was heading.

…

King Viserys stood proudly before the crowd from the stands. Daenys and her twin just arrived in time of the opening of the tourney as their father began his speech, "Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed. When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great days has made more auspicious by the news… that I am happy to share: Queen Aemma has begun her labors!" The crowd cheered and clapped, joying them were Rhaenyra and Daenys.

"May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!" After Viserys’ finishing statement another round of cheering was heard before knights began to round up.

"A mystery knight?" Dany heard her sister asked beside her, not recognizing one of the combatants.

"No, a Cole, of the Stormlands." Denys replayed to her.

"I’ve never heard of House Cole." Her older twin stated clearly in thought as Lord Boremund Baratheon approached the stands.

"Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of ‘The Queen Who Never Was.’" He spoke loudly as the crowd cheered in the distance. Daenys frowned at the title it was given to her cousin. The older woman placed a wreath on the Lord’s jousting spear going deaf to his provocations. "Good fortune to you, cousin." She said.

"I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it." He replayed with brassy tone before he took off.

"I heard you ran into a son of Lord Steffan Karstark." Dany turned her attention towards her twin that had mischievous grin on her face. "I heard from the ladies that he is quite handsome."

Younger girl found said man waiting his turn with other knights. He looked regal on his black horse. Ser Artos’s armor was also sight to behold, heavier version she saw from their brief encounter. Black as night with white sunburst between his chests still. Secretly admiring him from afar, she could swore that Artos was looking at her too, but alas, he was too far away.

Daenys returned the same grin back to her sister, averting her gaze from Ser Artos, "I heard the same about Ser Cole." Rhaenys raised an eyebrow and turned to the knight behind her. "What do you know about this Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold?"

"I’m told Ser Criston is common-born, son of Lord Dondarrion’s steward. But other than that, and the fact he’s just unhorsed both Baratheon lads, I really couldn’t say." When Ser Harrold finished, drumming began to echo followed by wave of loud cheering.

"Prince Daemon of House Targeryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!" Master of Revels announced the crowd cheered even more. Daenys frowned, As much as the court hates him, common people love watching him causing bloodshed in the tourneys. Daemon looked up at her from below, and Daenys did her best not to be first one to break eye contact. He started to approach his rivals on his black horse, carefully examining each one ,and promptly stopped in front of Ser Gwayne, Alicent’s brother. She saw her friend went stiff, damaging further skin on her fingers. Of course, he choose Otto’s son. His provocation knows no bounds.

"For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King."

It didn’t take long for Daemon to win over Ser Gwayne. After he was dismounted, visibly in pain but not badly injured, Alicent relaxed. As Daemon approached the stands, Rhaenyra run to the railing, "Nicely done, Uncle."

"Thank you, Princess." He said looking behind her towards her twin who reminded seated. Daenys forced a smile. That was enough for him. Daemon turned then towards Alicent, "Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it." Like salt on the wound, he added. Alicent dutifully took and placed a floral wreath on his spear, as she was trained to do, "Good luck, my Prince."

With one last look sent to Daenys, Daemon turned his horse away. One by one, contestants were thrown out from the game. And more the game went on, it was getting bloodier. The crowed loved it. Daenys wrinkled her nose, Is this what they want? Blood and guts, aimless violence?

"Ser Artos Karstark will not tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City!" Master of Revels announced once again. Daenys went numb. She didn’t won’t either of them hurt, even her Uncle, no matter what terms they were on. They jousted and neither of them wanted to back down. Soon in the blink of an eye, black met black and Daemon was flung down from the back of his horse.

"Sword!" The Prince yelled to be tossed to him.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in the contest of arms!" Master of Revels proclaimed, as Ser Artos dismounted his own horse and was given a sword. Both of them started circling one another like vultures. Then the sword dance began, and by the looks of it, Ser Artos was a talented swordsman. Dameon had a little time to recover between each blow that was delivered and defended. Daenys’ breath stopped after the Northern knight managed to disarm Daemon and knock him down to the ground. Ser Arthos’ steel went below Prince’s throat. Daenys’ heart started beating faster, Surely, Ser Artos wouldn’t kill his Prince! He’s an honorable man.

"Yield." She heard him say. Thank the Gods. Yield you, idiot! She screamed inside, seeing that her sister was also on edge and the whole crowd have fallen silent. Daenys saw Daemon chuckle before surrendering to the younger knight. The crowd cheered once again, this time for Daenys’ handsome knight. She joined them, as Ser Artos approached the stands on his black stallion, removing his winged helmet, "I was hoping to ask for the younger Princess’s favor." Daenys smiled feeling lost in his blue eyes. When Rhaenyra notice that her sister remained paralyzed, she nudged her with her elbow. Her younger twin jumped from her seat, giving her sister an annoyed glare. Her twin only smirked back. The silver-haired girl carefully took her white colored wreath and placed it on the knight’s lance. "I wish you luck, Ser Karstark." She smiled down at him.

He returned it with even warmer one then any dragon fire, and her heart melted, "Thank you, Princess."

In the corner of her eye, she could see that Daemon was observing with resentment their exchange. Shit, she silently cursed. I will never hear the end of it now- Her trail of thoughts and all of her sudden worries were gone when she noticed that Ladies and Lords started to leave all around Rhaenyra and her. The somber look of her cousin Rhaenys caught her attention the most and her father was nowhere to be seen, On, no… The Princess felt her whole world crashing down onto her. Falling into a never-ending abyss. Dread filled every bone in her body. No… Gods no…

I had a dream that I was fine I wasn't crazy, I was divine I, can fly

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