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notyour-valentine · 1 year
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Dragon's Blood ~ Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyras!daughter (Fluff/Smut)
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Summary: There is a small rocky island in the Narrow Sea easily reached on dragonback, and it has become a home of many secrets for Aemond Targayen and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter (Fluff/Smut)
Note: Ahead of nexts episode, and finally getting the man, the myth, the menace that is grown!Aemond, I wanted to write something nice about him before everything burns to the ground. Loosely connected to this moonboard of mine.
Warning: sword fighting, mention of blood and injuries, smut, mention of war and death. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)
Wordcount: 4667 words
Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV
Part I
The sun warmed her face and the gentle winds made the strands of her hair fly like banners in the wind. 
The salt and water from her earlier swim had made it coarse and curly, a tangled mess no hairnet could hope to tame. 
Even though it had only just dried, she felt her bare feet carry her to the waves once more. 
The sea called to her, the same way the sky did. 
Both had been screaming her name from the moment she was born- half dragon, half sea creature. 
She closed her eyes as the incoming waves washed over her feet, splashing against her ankles. It was as sweet a caress as the wind and sun were. 
This was her place, her own little kingdom, and even if it was just a bleak, rocky forgotten island, to her it was as beautiful and as dear as the entire Valyrian Freehold at the height of it’s glory. 
And it was hers, hers alone - or at least close enough. 
She was not meant for peace, hardly any of them were, but right here, with nothing but the waves and the wind, she could feel the temptation to never leave. 
Her eyes snapped open a split second before a hand grabbed her belt and tugged her back. 
Her body crashed into an immovable force, her head hitting his shoulder, but before she could react, she felt the icy bite of a blade under her chin, forcing her head upward. 
Her hands dug into his arms, feeling the weather-worn leather not unsimilar to her own, which she had taken off earlier with her boots, leaving her in only her shirt and riding trousers. 
She crawed at his arm with all her might, but it only earned her a soft chuckle. 
"Too easy, soldier.", came the immediate but no less amused scolding, his lips brushing against her ear, tightening his grip on her stomach. 
A soft smile came to her lips. 
Her feet were bare but he still wore his boots, which wasn't ideal, but she still had her elbows. 
She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed, feeling his arm relax slightly, before driving her elbow into his ribs the same moment she yanked the arm that held the dagger down, using that split second of distraction to twist out of his grip and pull a blade of her own. 
"Too easy, soldier.", She mocked, as her blade sparkled in the sunlight, like his own. 
He smirked devilishly as they circled each other on the sands. He was still wearing full gear, from boot to collar in heavy leather, having only just arrived. 
Late, as usual. 
With his long limbs and fast legs, he was faster but she had agility on her side and far quicker feet. 
"I did not hear Vhagar.", She admitted, glancing at the sky for a split second. 
"I kept her quiet.", He shot back, but as soon as he had started speaking she dashed for the rocks. 
His boots sunk in heavy in the sands, buying her the extra time to reach the hiding place before he could. From it she drew the practice sword and kept him at bay. 
Sure, he had a sabre of his own, but he would never use live steel against her, she had dared him once, in the black of night on the battlements of King’s Landing. 
All too quickly he had knocked her back and taken the sharpened steel from her hand the same way one would take a toy from a child. 
And the next time they had practice swords in their hands, he had sent her home black and blue from heel to collarbone. If they had used live steel she would have been carved up like a peace of ham and that was his way of driving that particular lesson home. 
Chuckling, he sheathed his dagger. 
With her foot, she closed the trapdoor that lead to that little hollow space which held their practice swords. 
"Now, now, play nice, niece!", He warned her, clicking his tongue. 
She smirked as she pushed him back. 
"I was taught never to play nice.", She reminded him. 
She saw pride glint in his eye, and the light reflect in the other. 
Around her, he never wore his patch, instead showing off the sapphire he had picked as a replacement.  
"You must've had a good teacher."
She was about to respond, which was her mistake as the sand landed not only in her eye but her mouth as well. 
Cursing, she stumbled back- it was never good to be stagnant, not for one second. 
She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and spat out the dirt. 
It was the time he needed for retrieve a sword of his own, leiserously cutting circles in the air. 
"Let's see what else he taught you!", He insisted before lunging at her. 
Now this is unfair, she thought. 
He was taller, stronger and had longer arms. But that was just why she trained with him. 
When she trained with her brothers they would treat her like she would shatter. 
Once, after accidentally landing one blow on her wrist, Jace had even let her win- it had taken weeks for her to forgive that. 
Baela and Rhaena were good sparring partners, but they were women like her and most enemies they could ever face in battle would be bigger, stronger, taller men with every advantage in the book. 
Her uncle thought the only advantage they would ever need were their dragons, which she understood and even believed, but if the boys were trained in the art of swordplay, she wanted to master it too. 
Say what you want about Aemond Targaryen, but he never went easy on her, making him just the kind of teacher she needed. 
His blows drove her back, and once she nearly stumbled, but managed to keep her footing despite having to block a blow coming to her side. 
He could afford slashing from the sides in wider motions, but she was too much in his range to do so. 
Instead, her only chance was lunging forward in quick motions before pulling back at once. 
This piercing stab wasn't as easily blocked as wide slashes, so he jumped to the side instead, making her hit air. 
She ducked to avoid his next attempt before she had an idea and darted away. 
One, two, three hastily taken steps until she felt the warmth of her sun on the back of her neck. 
Perfect. 
And only then did she attack. 
He had to take a few steps back, seeing them a split second later. 
Their swords crossed around an inch before his face but with a single show of force, he brought the locked swords down. 
"Naughty.", Aemond said, still squinting slightly from the blinding sun he now faced. 
She grinned from ear to ear, knowing it was the highest praise, as her chest rose and fell from the exertion. 
Then he gave her shoulder a single shove that sent her crashing to the ground. 
She raised her sword at once, but he was towering over her, the tip of his own aimed at her throat. 
Then he let it travel lower to the lacing that held her undershirt together. 
With expert precision, he dipped the tip of the practice blade in between the first and second cross and tugged it upward, making the ribbon hiss as it came slightly more undone. 
"You could have just asked.", She chirped, her eyes never leaving her opponent. 
"I don't have to ask when I have the upper hand.", He reminded her. 
But while he was standing over her, he hadn't seen her twist her legs. 
With all her might she kicked her foot into the back of his knee. 
It folded just as she had expected, while she scrambled back, seeing him kneeling for one split second. 
But it gave her enough time to get away and raise her sword in response for the new flurry of blows he sought to rain down on her for spoiling his fun. 
She could never win in a straight one-on-one, but that wasn’t what she was practising nor what he was teaching.
Outmatched as she was, she practised what would be useful to her in real combat - a good defence that would buy enough time for a sneak attack or a victory by trickery. 
“Are you getting tired, old man?”, she teased after almost landing a strike of her own.
“Perhaps I’m going easy on you.”
She took a blow to the side only so that she could crack her blade against his shin. 
“Don’t you ever go easy on me, Aemond!”, she demanded, her anger overshadowing her pain. 
And he didn’t. They sparred until she felt her arms would fall off, until her sides ached and her feet throbbed. 
Tomorrow, she’d have to tell her siblings all sorts of lies. 
It was the sweetest kind of pain, but it did exhaust her and when her sword shot up to block his once more, her arms could no longer stand the impact. She had also forgotten to prevent another of her oddities. 
“Shit!”, she cursed, as a sharp pain shot through her lips, not because either sword had struck her but because a bit of flesh had been caught between her lips. 
She tasted metal and closed her eyes to the treacherous pain that brought tears to her eyes. 
“Let me see, let me see!”, Aemond demanded. 
The same hands that had delt her blow after blow now cupped her face with the utmost gentleness, tilting it upward slightly. 
“I’m fine!”, she hissed and tried to turn away. 
“I said let me see!”
His voice allowed no room for argument. 
He frowned as his thumb traced the outline of her lower lip before pulling it down so that he could see the already swelling flesh inside. 
“I said I’m fine.”, she insisted, wiping her lip with her sleeve and seeing the red dots. 
“Enough for today.”, Aemond announced, his thumb brushing against her lower lip once more. 
“No!”, she argued.
He, however, picked up his sword and began to walk back to where they would hide them. 
“I said no!”, she snapped, storming after him. 
She swung at his shoulder to get his attention, but he had anticipated her blow, spun and blocked the practice sword with his lower arm. 
Before she could draw back, his fingers had wrapped around the edge of the practice sword and pulled it forward harshly, making her lose her footing once more due to his force. 
“I said enough.”, he repeated, now holding both practice swords firmly in his grip. 
For the longest time he had been short, even smaller then her, until just after his eleventh birthday he had decided to turn into a beanpole, surpassing not only her but Helaena, Aegon and finally even Jace in rapid succession. 
It just wasn’t fair. 
Something changed in his gaze as he looked at her. 
“We heard about the trouble with the pirates.”, Aemond said. “Were you really there?”
She beamed from ear to ear and nodded. 
“Daemon took me and he was right to.”, she admitted. “The clouds were low that day, so they didn’t even see Syraxes until she breathed her fire.”
“What about Vermax? Or did my dear nephews stay at home and let their sister do all the work?”
She didn’t miss the slight in that. 
“Jace and Luke were there too.”, she quickly said. “But Vermax and Arrax aren’t as practised with sea winds.”
Her dragon egg had hatched on Driftmark, all those years ago, revealing a pale blue almost grey dragon, and she loved the sea. While other dragons resided in the Dragonmont, Syraxes had made her lair on a cliffside, close to the water and sky. 
Even during practice, they raced on land, while she and her dragon both preferred the open waters. 
And during a sea battle, that was an advantage. 
“Tell me.”, Aemond demanded to know. 
“They wanted to disrupt the Velaryon shipping routes.”, she said with a shrug. “So they faced the Velaryon dragons.”
Aemond’s lip twitched. 
“And Caraxes.”
“Yes. Caraxes.”
What a fierce dragon that was, long and terrible with that twisted neck of his. 
“But it’s not just strength, you know.”, she argued, rubbing her sore hand between her fingers. 
“Are you teaching me now?”, he demanded to know sharply. 
“Maybe.”, she argued. “I’ve seen more of battle than you, at least on dragon back.”
Aemond scoffed.
“Vhagar has seen a thousand battles.”, he hissed. 
“And you’ve seen none. I’ve seen three now.”
Granted, they were all at sea, and one was just her and Vermax against a single pirate ship, but then again, practice was practice. 
“There’s not a dragon alive who can defeat Vhagar.”, he argued. 
“In strength, no, but she’s not as agile nor as quick. That is our main advantage on dragonback. We can more faster than they will ever have time to replace their trebuchets.”
That was something Daemon taught them. 
For all his battle skill, Aemond and his siblings weren’t taught the art of fighting on dragonback.
But it was her grandmother, Prince Daemon and before them even her own father who had taught them more than merely flying on dragon back. 
Agility, speed, those were just as fierce as dragonfire if one knew how to use them. 
“A large dragon and a quick dragon, that is the best pair for battle.”, she decreed. 
“The large dragon will win every time.”
“Not against each other, you fool!”, she hissed. “Together.”
That was the way they had succeeded against the pirates, with Caraxes drawing most of the arrows and Vermax and Syraxes attacking from beyond where they could see, setting mast and sail ablaze. 
But Aemond didn’t look convinced. 
So she had to be a little more convincing. 
“You underestimate the impact of a strike from above on an unsuspecting enemy.", She said innocently, enjoying being able to look down on him for once, from this pile of rocks. 
He did reply something, but she never heard it, not while she jumped to the closest stone and cried out the Valyrian order for attack. 
Aemond spun and dropped the swords but too late- by that time she was already crashing into him with full force. Her weight hit him straight in the chest, toppling him and her both. 
He landed with a thud as he hit the sand. She was kneeling on his torso, one hand around his throat, the other pressed firmly to the middle of the chest. 
“Do you yield?”, she asked, squeezing her hand just slightly, not nearly enough to cause him pain or make him lack air, but enough so that he would feel it. 
His groan of pain turned into a breathless chuckle. 
"Fair.", He admitted, still laid out on the sand. "But when you strike like that, make sure you strike well."
His eye flashed as he grinned up at her. 
"Because it brings you in too close proximity and there strength will win again!"
All air left her lungs as her back hit the ground, his broad frame blocking out the sun.
Not only had he thrown her to her back, he had also grabbed both her hands in his and pinned them above her head. 
She tugged at her hands but he only smirked, shaking his head slightly. 
The tips of his silver blonde strands brushed tickled the delicate skin on her neck. 
She tugged at her wrists, but she might as well have tried to move a mountain and it didn't even faze him. 
That alone made all sorts of emotion bubble up inside her, good and bad and dangerous. 
She kicked her legs but only hit thin air as his hand, the one not holding her wrists hostage found the ribbons at the top of her shirt once more. 
He picked one between his fingers and pulled at it agonisingly slowly, then the other, then the third and fourth. 
For such an impatient man, he was impossibly good at being slow, if only to aggravate her further. 
But she wouldn't give him that. 
Instead she merely leaned back and closed her eyes, choosing to look like she enjoyed the sun more than his touch. 
His fingers brushed against her skin, tracing along her collarbone, stroking up her neck to her chin. 
Still, she did not react, knowing fully well that Aemond could suffer nothing more than indifference. 
His grip on her jaw proved her right as he held her face in place, crashing his lips down on hers. 
His kiss inflamed her, and it took all her will not to kiss him back with equal passion. 
But if she couldn't beat him in strength, she could match him in will. 
She could hear the low rumble of rage in his chest, before he traced his teeth over her bottom lip. 
The pain made her gasp and he used the chance to invade her mouth. 
Aemond's kisses had gained in skill over time, but they had always been consuming. 
Even during their very first kiss, years ago when they were but children, it had made invisible flames burn inside her, and yet it felt like he wasn't just making her feel things she never had before, he was taking something from her too. 
And she couldn't hold onto her pride for much longer. 
When he finally pulled back, she could see her smeared blood in his swollen lips and a hunger in his eyes. 
She grinned up at him, rubbing her leg against his thigh slightly. 
"My, my- have you pulled yet another dagger on me?"
"Tease me and you'll be sorry!", Aemond warned. 
"How sorry?", She wanted to know with a grin. 
His eyes darkened in a different kind of way as his hand slipped under her shirt. 
She knew this, all of this, was beyond dangerous. It was playing with a kind of fire even Targaryens could not hope to harness. 
But they knew above all others, above any mere mortal men that fire was addicting and they were part fire themselves. 
And their touch burned. 
Once more she was at a disadvantage- her shirt was too easily removed while her fingers fumbled with his leather lacing. 
And again, he beat her to it. 
The first time, her first time at least, had been clumsy and cautious, with Aemond taking the lead. 
He had been gentle then, kissing and caressing her and while he had taken the lead, he was guiding her too. 
That gentleness they shared had been replaced by a battle of its own. 
Now their kisses bruised instead of tickled. 
He entered her with two of his fingers, and while she was soaking for him already, it made pleasure mix with pain, but so was their way. 
Giving her no chance to adapt, he thrust them into her again, and again, making sure to brush his thumb over that particular with every stroke, until she was breathless and shaking. 
Everything melted away in the light of his touch, and the determination he had to bend her to his will. She squirmed in his grip, desperate to free her hands, to reach for him and bury them in his hair- but he was unrelenting in everything but bringing her closer to the edge. 
"Aemond!", She whimpered as she bit down on her lip by instinct, feeling the slightest of wounds his bite had worsened earlier. 
"Look at me!", He ordered, driving his fingers in as deep as he could. 
Her eyes fluttered open, already glassy with pleasure. 
His eye was black as cole and his lips glistened, tinted red by the rush of his blood and the stain of hers. 
"Yield.", He demanded, his voice so cold it made her stomach coil in even more pleasure. 
Inside her, his fingers curled, making her back arch, desperate for more. 
All this pleasure he had built up inside her, she was so close to claiming if as her own, so close she could almost touch the stats she began the darkness of her eyelids. 
"Yield or I'll leave you as you are."
It was not an empty threat, she knew. 
She could see the lust in his eye, the desire for her, but she also knew he had the power of will to get up at once, call Vhagar and fly back to King's Landing without a mere glance back. 
He'd be raging of course, but he would leave all the same.  
But she wasn't about to risk that, after all, she wanted him too. And she wanted all of him, in every way a woman could have a man, but for that she would have to give herself to him entirely first. 
Her everything in exchange for his'. 
Nothing less would do. 
She tugged at her hands once more and this time he let her go. 
At once she buried them in his hair, pulling him so close she could feel his haughty breath on her lips. 
"Only to you.", she whispered in the faintest of voices. 
That was enough for him. 
He pushed her over the edge with ease. 
There were three thrills in her eyes, riding a boat in a storm, taking flight with her dragon and then the pleasure Aemond could bring her, and whenever she experienced one she was sure the others would never compare. 
He did not give her the time to recover. 
Instead he had pulled her up like a ragdoll and entered her in a single motion before she had the chance to come down from her high. 
She was so sensitive now, that it hurt, but it was that place where pain and pleasure met that they craved. 
As she buried her face in the crook of his neck, she dug her nails into his back, clinging to him.His own hand weaved its way into the back of her hair while the other was pressed firmly to her back. 
It was almost as if he wanted them to melt into each other completely.  
Even if it would be the last thing he ever did. 
Her second climax was fast approaching but she held back, bearing down to hold on for but a moment longer. 
His grip loosened and he almost stroked the tips of his thumb over her head. 
"I've got you.", He whispered in her ear, just as breathless and panting as she was. "Let go, I've got you."
And she knew he did. 
~
It was the wind that woke her, blowing loose strands of hair into her face until it tickled. 
Then she heard the sea and smelled the salt. 
When her eyes fluttered open she shifted slightly, feeling the soft sand move. 
When she sat up, his cloak slipped off her shoulder. It was black bordered in green and smelled of him. And of dragon. 
But when did Aemond ever not smell of dragon?
It wasn't difficult. He never strayed far, especially not when she was asleep. 
Sometimes she'd wake with her head in his lap, or with his fingers stroking through her hair or over her shoulder. 
Today he was sitting beside her, cross-legged in the sand. 
He had completely undone his hair, the wind playing tricks like the waves. 
She'd have to braid it up again before he left. 
As she shifted, her thighs brushed and a single touch confirmed her suspicion of the lingering stickiness between her legs. 
"You didn't clean up your mess then?", She asked. Brushing her hand over her neck she felt a spark of pain. “And I’ll have to wear a high collar gown too. Couldn’t you have been careful for once?”
Aemond looked up, meeting her eyes. 
"Why would I?", He asked, tilting his head. "Word is you're hosting the Archon of Tyrosh's ambassadors."
His words made her smile. 
"That's it then?", She asked, leaning over. 
The cloak slipped, but she didn't mind. 
Apart from Aemond, no one was around for mike's and even if they were, they wouldn't dare come near with two dragons on and around the island. 
"Jealousy?"
Aemond scoffed and spoke with nothing but disdain. 
"All Tyroshi look like mummers with dyed hair and painted beards."
"They have the largest fleet of all of the free cities."
He glanced down and began to tear a piece of seaweed to shreds. 
"You are a dragon rider, not a fish haggler's wife.", He sneered. 
She couldn't help but giggle as she pressed a playful kiss to his cheek. 
He pulled away the way he would have done when he was ten, before he knew the value of kisses. 
"Jealousy suits you."
He threw her a dark glare, but it's burning fury was not directed at her. 
With a sigh, she lowered her arms and layed down in his lap. 
On instinct, his hand found her head. 
"An alliance with Tyrosh would guarantee peace with the Free Cities.", She repeated what she had heard again and again. 
She knew it was foolish, of course. There was no guarantee for peace, not ever. But it would bring them a lot closer. 
"Is that why you would marry?", He asked. "For peace?"
"There are worse reasons.", She sighed. 
"If your mother wants you to marry for peace she should have given you to me."
"It was your mother that turned down the true marriage for peace.", She reminded him. "Jace and Helaena and Aegon and me."
His fingers stopped his caresses. 
"If you want Aegon, all you have to do is dress up as a silk street whore or a serving wench and he’ll have his hand under your skirt before the hour is up.", Aemond sneered. 
That made her roll over so she could look at his face. 
“If he does, will you kill him or me then?”, she wanted to know curiously. 
His sapphire eye caught the light as he met her gaze, his own unreadable. 
Sometimes, here on their little island which they kept secret from everyone but their dragons, when he was as gentle with her as he was now, his fingers drawing lazy lines through her hair, or his hands working on the soreness of her muscles after yet another harsh lesson he taught with more diligence than their master of arms, she was almost sure he loved her, or as sure as one could be with Aemond Targaryen. 
Sometimes, when he held her with no sound but the waves and his calming steady heartbeat, her mind would wonder and carry her far away, to the Free Cities and beyond, to everything that strange continent across the Narrow Sea could offer. 
Daemon and Laena had done it, so it wouldn't even be the first time Vhagar took to Essos. 
They could resides like Kings there, could cross the Dothraki Sea, or visit the strange worlds of Yi-Ti, or go to Ashai, Volantis or the other places where they worshipped fire. 
There they would be more than kings. They would be Gods. 
But she didn't need that, not really. Both Aemond and her weren’t meant for ruling, for worship and praise. They had a restlessness in them, the same restlessness that brought Aegon to these shores a century ago. The two of them were the blood of the dragon in more then name, conquerors, warriors, not rulers and priests. 
With a sigh she banished her thoughts and girlish dreams of foreign shores. 
They were impossibly far away for her, even on dragon back. 
And like her, Aemond was his brother's keeper. 
Her mother needed her, as did Jace and all their younger siblings, not only as a sister, but as an advisor, ally and protector. That would only grow when first she, and then her brother sat the Iron Throne. 
And for as long as they needed her, she would never leave their side. Not even for Aemond.
End
~
Part II
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!
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lailoken · 3 months
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Dragon's Blood & Ochre Beeswax Tapers (SOLD OUT)
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The latest offering from Wending Wares Occult Parlor is a very limited supply of 10 specialty Ritual Candles, devised to empower and/or strengthen any magical working that makes use of them. Use them as the backbone of a simple spell, or incorporate it into other spellwork for extra oomph.
Each handmade beeswax taper has been hallowed under the auspices of the Dragon Star, Eltanin, and imbued with the virtues of Red Ochre, ethically sourced Dragon's Blood resin, and my homemade Wisefool's Oil (a highly potent Ritual Oil devised for all manner of sorcerous empowerment.)
Each candle is approximately 4 inches/10 centimeters long and burns for approximately 30 minutes. Each order comes with a small carrying bag. 
Please handle open flames safely!
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rodenka · 10 months
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potm of the moon ☽
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spiralhouseshop · 1 year
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New in the Spiral House Shop!
Vampire Blood Incense
I admit that the name of this incense seems a bit silly. I bought some years ago as a joke but ended up really liking it! It’s sort of smells like nag champa with a heavy dose of dragon’s blood and I love both of those and together they smell great.
For extra cheesiness, here's what it says on the package: Vampire Blood is harvested through an advance process in which vampires are slowly bled. The unearthly qualities of the blood are isolated & extracted into a premium product. Some vampires were harmed during this process but none met true death. This is a rare premium extract of Vampire Blood that is sure to heighten the senses & create inner sensations of Nirvana.
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gayskeletonart · 1 year
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DOTA: Davion- Come Little Mouse
Davion from DOTA: Dragon's Blood seduces his squire, Bram CONTAINS 39 VARIANTS I worked super hard on this so I hope you like it ... You can purchase this piece and its variants on Gumroad- https://gayskeletonart.gumroad.com/l/DavionPinUp?layout=profile
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twinrot-arts · 1 month
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Dragon's Blood
2-24 - Original. Doodlin' on aggie.io together, we got inspired by our burning of a dragon's blood incense cone, thus this derg was created-- Went, uh... A little zoned out just scribbling in the blood, and could have done more, but we liked it like this, ffff Only we may use, do not steal.
Do Not Repost/Use/Remove Caption. Like this? Consider following~ Art © twinrot
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jellystarcreations · 7 months
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Swordtember 4 - Dragonslayer
This ancient blade contains the essence of dragon's blood. It glows with an eerie light.
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gameraboy2 · 2 years
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Dragon’s Blood by Clyde Caldwell
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headspacedad · 2 years
Video
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DOTA: Dragon's Blood: Book 3 | Official Trailer | Netflix
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jacqthehermit · 2 years
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“Wake up please?”
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They really killed the best girl in Book 2 smh. Valve we need to talk.
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aspelladay · 1 year
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Ogun’s Police Magic Force Spell
[Ogun, that prominent and versatile West African spirit, serves as a patron of police. Police officers may request his protection. However, depending upon circumstances, Ogun may also be prevailed upon to protect others from the police. The iron-handed spirit of justice and righteousness, Ogun is frequently syncretized with archangel Michael. An image of Michael may be used to represent Ogun providing Michael is depicted holding his lance or sword. The more traditional method of representing Ogun on an altar is with a piece of iron, such as a horseshoe, knife, or tool.]
Place a piece of iron on an altar.
Burn a double-action candle and some dragon’s blood incense.
Offer Papa Ogun over-proof rum and a good cigar and tell him what you need.
(from The Element Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells by Judika Illes)  
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notyour-valentine · 1 year
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Dragon's Blood II ~ Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyras!daughter
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[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist] [House of the Dragon Masterlist]
All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Summary: Once in King's Landing, she has a score to settle with Prince Aegon and Aemond has a toast to make( ~ 1x09)
Note: Loosely connected to this moonboard of mine. There will be a Part IV
Warning: sword fighting, mention of blood and injuries, smut, mention of war and death. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)
Wordcount: 5539 words
Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV
Part II
Previously
She did not share Jace’s or Luke’s memory from those bygone days and so she did not join them as they ran around the courtyard in excitement, retracing the sights of their old adventures.
Instead, her eyes were focussed on something else, or rather someone else. At least, until the sun darkened when his tall frame let shadow fall over her. 
“Where’s Syraxes?”, he asked as he leaned against the wall beside her. 
He smelled of sweat and leather, and a little bit of dragon. It was a scent she was all too familiar with.
“We came on ships.”, she explained, unable to hide her disapproval. 
Her confession made his eyebrow rise. 
“Preparing for your wifely duties?”, Aemond wanted to know. 
That again, she thought as she fought the desire to roll her eyes. 
“Daemon is still negotiating.”
“For which price to whore you out?”, he asked under his breath. 
If he had meant it to sting, he shouldn’t have struck with a dulled blade. 
“The fate of a Princess.”, she retorted. It was hardly anything new to her, nor was she oblivious to the duty her position required.
His hand found her waist as she tried to move away, holding her back. 
“There is an armoury room,”, he mused, his lips coming dangerously close to her ear. “It’s deserted this time of day.”
She hummed softly before turning to meet his piercing gaze. 
“I’m afraid, it will remain that way a little while longer.”
With that, she twisted out of his arm and reached for a practice sword, swishing it through the air to check the balance and weight. 
“You want to spar?”, Aemond asked curiously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Here?"
“Oh indeed.”, she said with a smirk, taking a few steps back before turning her back to him, pointing her sword at someone else. 
“Uncle!”, she called out to Aegon, who had only just arrived, offering her brightest smile. 
“Would you do me the honour?”
Usually the laughter from the men at arms, the knights and squires would have set her blood to boil but now it only ever made her smirk.
The more, the merrier. After all, why put on a show if there was no one to watch?
“You?”, Aegon asked, laughing squires at his back. 
“What are you doing?”, Aemond hissed. 
She let him hold her practice blade as she reached into her pocket to fish out a ribbon to toe her hair back. 
“Funny thing, Aemond.”, she told him, “one of your serving girls asked my mother’s maid if they have to fear Prince Jacaerys the same way they have to fear Prince Aegon.”
She turned to face him to be able to see his every reaction. 
He gave her nothing. No confusion. No surprise.
So she knew all she had to know. 
Tasting venom on her tongue, she nodded before taking the sword from him and facing Aegon with the sweetest of smiles. 
He had been joking with his men, she knew, and strode towards her with nothing but confidence, looking her up and down. 
“You want me to teach you about swordplay?”, he asked, “Well, who could say no to that? I am an expert in that regard."
More laughter rang out, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Jace flush with anger. 
Don’t worry, she thought, we’ll be the ones laughing soon. 
He took his own practice sword and positioned himself. 
“The key,”, he began, explaining loudly, “is not to give away when you will strike.”
The emphasis he put on his hip as well as how low he held his sword made a mockery of the practice yard, earning roaring laughter from his men.
“Like this?”, she asked, leaping towards him. 
He brought his blade up just in time to deflect her strike to his shoulder, but the unanticipated force sent him stumbling back. 
This time, she let him catch his balance. 
“You are a good teacher, Uncle.”, she mused as she stepped back, smiling. “Why don’t you attack? I hear you’re quite good at it.”
His lip twitched as he tried to strike. 
She blocked it with ease, ducked away and struck the back of his leg, forcing him to take a knee. 
Lucerys’ laughter rang out through the yard, cutting through the stunned silence. 
She had her back turned to Aegon, but in the shiny armour of Ser Harrold she could see his every movement, and even the flashing anger in his eyes. 
He ran at her, sword in hand, while Jace cried out to warn her. Now it was her that took a knee, making him strike air. Since he had passed her, it was all to easy for the flat of her blade to crack over his backside, making him crash to the floor. 
Lucerys howled, while the rest of the courtyard was reduced to shocked gasps and murmurs. 
Aegon scrambled back up again and charged. She jumped away and grabbed his arm, twisting it and pushing him away. 
Even more enraged, he came at her again, she blocked, parried and struck, her sword cracking against his hip with such force the onlookers groaned in sympathetic suffering. 
His face was as red as his backside promised to be as he charged at her again,, but an angry fighter was never a good one. 
Three more strikes did she block while she made sure to strike his hips and thighs at any given chance. Which was every chance. 
Aemond really hadn't lied when he told her he was a poor swordsman.
Another blow sent him to the ground again, as she, after a clinch, rammed her elbow into him and pushed him off with ease. 
“Enough!”, a voice cut through the yard. 
She saw Ser Criston Cole soldiering towards her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back. 
“I had thought you had a master at arms on Dragonstone, not a racketeer who never heard of honour to teach you the art of fighting!”, he snarled, his face mere inches from hers. 
His grip tightened until he cut off her blood flow, but she only ever met his gaze. 
“They teach fighting. In battle, there is little art to it. You ought to know that, Ser Criston.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see her brother’s bemused faces. 
The knight looked down at her with nothing but blatant disgust.
“It is unseemly for a woman to spar!”, he snarled. 
“I am not just a woman, Ser.”, she reminded him with the sweetest smile as she reached out to pluck a piece of dust from his beard. “I am a dragon. Those measly rules don’t apply to me.”
His fingers closed around her wrist as if her mere touch burned him and brought it down with such force, she feared he might break it. 
“Oh they do, girl!”, he snarled through clenched teeth. “And I will make you will subject yourself to them!”
The disrespect made her laugh in shock. 
“Ah you will make me?”, she hissed. “Would you like to try at where your Princeling had failed?”
“A woman has no place on the sparring yard.”, he snarled and pushed her away. 
Oh I’ll show you your place.
She was twisting her wrist to free itself from the pain as she closed her fingers around the practice sword a second time. 
Only this time another, gentler hand closed around hers. 
“Don’t.”, Jacaerys whispered. “He’s not worth it.”
Lucerys ran at them with wide, sparkling eyes. 
“You destroyed him!”, he insisted. “How did you know to do that?”
“Yes, how?”, Jace asked, suspicion in his eyes. 
“Practice.”, she said, making a point of not searching for Aemond who had watched their every move.
“As much as I enjoyed that, now we will look like fools compared to you.”, Luke said with a sigh.
“Aegon won’t be able to pick up another sword today. I wonder if he will even be able to sit. And Aemond won’t spar you.”, she insisted. “Train with Ser Harrold.”
She sent them off with a slight shove and put her own practice sword down. 
“Won’t I?”, mused a word from the shadows. 
“No you won’t.”, she said sharply, earning an amused hum.
“Aemond, they are just boys.”
“Jacaerys is your elder.”, he reminded her. 
“They can't match you with the blade.”, she said. "You know that."
"And you knew Aegon was no match for you and yet you sought to humiliate him in turn."
She huffed as she met his gaze, wondering if it was a hint of anger or a flash of pride she saw in it.
"He deserved it."
~
There was something soothing about watching the steam rise from the bathtub.
The maids had warned her that it might be too hot, but what was mere heat for a dragon like her? 
Either her bath water had to be scalding or icy cold like the salty sea on the shores of Dragonstone. 
And so she had asked the serving girls to keep preparing hot water. By the time they had carried it to her rooms to add to her bath in intervals to prevent a drop in heat. 
So it was no surprise when she heard the door open and close again. 
Only then, she didn’t hear any further steps and so she turned, water splashing as she moved. 
Aemond was leaning against the door, a slight smirk on his lips as his gaze travelled from her surprised face to her chest. 
Rolling her eyes she settled back down again, letting the water come up to her collarbone. 
“You’re not supposed to be here.”, she remarked dryly. 
“Well you are in my home.”, he argued.
She could hear his heels drop to the cold ground one by one as he made his way over to her. 
“If they saw you, you’d cause a scandal.”, she sneered, but she knew he wouldn’t care about that, so she added a little extra just to rile him up. “What would your poor mother think? And your darling High Septon? Since you’ve practically turned this place into a sept, would fucking me here make it even more sinful than it already is?”
He hummed as he sat down on the edge of the tub, letting his hand trail through the water. 
“No one saw me.”, he simply said, not giving her the anger she wanted. “There are a thousand secret passageways in the Red Keep.”
“Thank Aegon.”, she mused, and the hundreds of architects, workmen and builders whom he fed to Balerion once they were done. 
She leaned forward and inhaled, smelling soap and clean clothes. 
“You’ve already bathed.”, she remarked. 
“Would you rather I come to you reeking of the sparring yard?”, he asked. 
She didn’t respond directly, but he still smirked.
“You could have joined me. In warm water for once.”
Aemond hummed the way only he could hum, as he began to undo his buttons. 
She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. 
Occupied with her own thoughts, she took her eyes off him (and because she didn’t want him getting too full of himself) and so was caught unaware when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her forward until she crashed into his leg, but he only ever dragged her up further until her lips were inches from his. 
It left her startled and breathless and she had to clutch his thigh for support as not to fall. 
“I should cut it all off.”, he sneered almost angrily. 
His breath was as hot on her lips as the steam of the water was, but she was focussed on the fire in his gaze. 
“I’ll cut it off before I let some grubby Essosi fingers touch it.”
It made her laugh and although his grip still kept her head in place, she traced her fingers up the inside of his thigh. 
“Do that,”, she warned him under her breath, “and I will cut something off that won’t grow back.”
He inhaled sharply as she began to stroke him through his trousers, knowing they were growing tighter by the second. 
His grip on her hair loosened slightly and she moved down in the tub, resting her head against his knee while her hand kept moving up and down on the wrong side of his trousers. 
“Besides,”, she mused, batting her eyelashes at him. “No one would miss it more than you.”
He'd pull it, clutch it, bury his face in it, wrap it around his hand and hold her close, only to then brush it out and braid it for her with more patience than she ever had.
With that, she moved away, leaning against the back of the tub feeling pleased at the sight of her handiwork. 
Aemond inhaled sharply, as if weighing his options. 
His pride or her body. 
He gave her a glare as if she had insulted him and stood, but his hands moved to the laces of his trousers and she knew she had won. 
~
Aemond had made her so late that her hair was still wet by the time they had dressed her, in a black gown bejewelled with rubies to match those decorating her hair. 
She looked beautiful, yes, like a proper princess, or a prized cow, both at court and at dinner. 
By now, King Viserys had become a stranger to her, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back. She loved him for her mother’s sake. 
But nothing made her smile more than seeing Aegon’s limp. 
Jace proved every bit the King he would one day become as he responded with nothing but courtesy, to them, and then when Aegon thought to bother Baela, a far better man when he asked Helaena to dance. 
Aegon drank and drank, unable to lift his gaze, while Aemond watched them like a hawk. 
“I know a place from where you’d get an even closer look at my brother.”, she teased, making him glare at her. 
“Or are you too afraid we’ll embarrass you in this kind of spar too?”, she asked, nodding to Aegon. 
Without another word, he got up, pushing his chair back with a screech as he grabbed her hand. 
“If you want something,”, he hissed into her ear as they took their positions not far away from Jace and Helaena, “ask!”
But where would be the fun in that?, she thought.
The song they played, a  four-step, which meant that it could be danced by two couples as well as one. It was Helaena that initiated it. They stood across from each other, moving to one side, then the other, a step forward, two steps back. 
Then it was time for the men to release them as Helaena and her met in the centre, their palms touching as they circled around each other. 
She was beaming from ear to ear, as her skirts swirled with their turn for the other direction.With that, they returned to their respective partners, stopping in front of them.
“She seems to enjoy herself.”, she told Aemond. 
“She likes to dance.”, was the only reply she got as their hands touched in the space between them. 
“So here we are.”, she mused as he spun her under his arm before dropping his hands to her waist and lifting her up at the same time Jace lifted Helaena. “Us two, the only spinsters.”
He glanced down at her. 
“Until you are sold off.”, he snarled. 
“For the high price of a fleet and prosperous trade. I can live with that.”, she insisted. Either she’d marry Jace, or she’d be married off for the security of Jace’s kingdom. 
“Dragons are worth more than ships.”, he reminded her as they swayed from side to side again. 
“But worth more than peace?”, she asked, so close she could smell him, his rough, calloused hand holding her own and his lips - Suddenly her throat felt thick and she glanced down. “Let’s not talk of things we cannot change.”
“You’re not married yet.”, he reminded her as his hands went to her waist once more. 
“Do you plan on stealing me away?”, she asked just as she took her place at his side, ready to approach Jace and Helaena once more. 
“Can’t steal something that already belongs to you.”, he argued, not minding that they were so close both of their siblings could hear. 
Her answer had to wait until they stepped back once more.
“I don’t belong to you. Or anyone, but if it were up to me-”
“Uncle!”
Lucerys voice cut through the music as he stood, his eyes locked on Aemond. 
“They’ve brought something for you.”
She followed his pointed finger to the tray that had just been brought in and her heart sank. 
“Aemond!”, she hissed under her breath but he left her standing as he strode towards the desk. 
His eyes meeting Luke’s, he seemed to consider for a moment, before taking his goblet in his hand, but when he spoke up, his voice was calm. 
Yet she knew better than to trust it. 
“A final tribute-”, he said, his gaze locked on Luke. “To my nephews.”
The music stopped completely to let him speak, as he made sure to look at each in turn.”
“Jace, Luke and Joffrey - each of them handsome, wise…”
He lingered, as they all held their breaths, as if he savoured the taste. 
“Strong.”
“Aemond!”, his mother hissed, but she inhaled sharply, feeling her hands clench into fists but he ignored them both. 
“Let us drain our cups,”, he announced loudly, “to these three Strong boys!”
Aegon was only too eager to lift his, but her head snapped around as she heard Jace’s voice crack like a whip.
“I dare you to say that again!”, he demanded, squaring up to Aemond without a trace of fear or intimidation in his eyes. 
“Why? Twas only a compliment!”, the taller man insisted with a smirk.
How she wanted to strike it right off his face. 
“Do you not consider yourself Strong?”
Jace beat her too it, his fist colliding with his jaw and snapping his head around. She was already halfway there when out of the corner of her eye she saw Aegon grab Luke by the back of the neck and slam his face into the table.
In the blink of an eye, she felt a fistful of his icy blond hair in her grasp and tore him away, spinning him around and burying her knee in his stomach.
“Pick on someone your own size!”, she snarled at him as he groaned in pain, more than happy to continue what she had begun in the sparring yard. 
“Enough!”, she heard someone cry as she saw Jace fall back, Aemond towering over him, his goblet still in hand. 
His mother grabbed his sleeve. 
“Why would you say that? In front of these people?”, she insisted. 
In front of me.
She missed the first part of his response as Daemon grabbed her by the back of the dress like a cat picking up an unruly kitten, pulling her before the guards could. 
He pushed her away from Aegon without much effort, shoving her in the space between Luce and Jace. 
“Although my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs!”, Aemond finished, making Jace’s cheeks flush in anger as he was ready to lunge at him once more. 
“Ah!”, Daemon said, his finger raised, stopping him before he could reach Aemong. 
He was first staring at Jace, then her, and finally Luke.
They understood but he made sure, staring them down until they had all taken a step back, his finger still raised before he turned. 
“Go to your quarters!”, her mother ordered, “all of you! Now.”
She looked to Jace, who only began to turn when Rhaena, holding Baela’s arm in one hand and Joff’s hand in the other. 
Her still waited at the door, seeing first the girls and Joff out, the Luke, who glared over his shoulder and finally her. 
She could feel his silent rage, burning to match her own. 
They shared that, the anger, the desire to fight, to fight him if need be.
But he did not share her betrayal. 
There were yet marks on her body he had made, the grip on her hips, the mark of his kisses. And now the sweet sting of passion felt like bite marks from a venomous snake and it was from them, that she could feel the poison seeping into her with every step. 
It made her want to scream, to claw at them, to cut every memory from him out of her mind and body, to burn it away with Syraxes’ fire or to drown it in the Narrow Sea. 
Fire, blood and the salty water would wash her clean of him. 
And yet her anger was drowned in her pain, in the piercing ache she felt in her chest with every breath she took.
Jace's hand found the small of her back as he inhaled sharply.
"And to think Mother was considering to give you to him.", he whispered, his voice so low only she could hear.
~
Jace, Luke and her had received a scolding from their mother until their ears rang. 
Today of all days. 
It was to make peace. Why did you have to fight? 
But it was disappointment more than anger. 
They should have stood above it, their ambivalence would have made him look the fool and now they had given him just what he wanted. 
If only her mother knew the truth of the words she had spoken. 
In her mind, they were both toying with each other in equal measure, but what if she had been dancing to his tune along? What if she was lost on this path he had led her on?
You gave him just what he wanted. 
She had done so, over and over again. Here, on Dragonstone, on their little island. 
So her defeat was a heavier to carry as she made her way back to her bedroom, sending away the serving girls and staring into the darkness of the room, illuminated only by a crackling fire. 
The girls hadn’t gotten to lighting the candles yet. 
For how long she just stood there, she did not know, but she spun as soon as she sensed movement from the darkness, pulling out the dagger that was hidden in her sleeve.
“You can put the blade away.”, said the last voice she wanted to hear. “It’s only me.”
“Only reason to keep it drawn!”, she snarled. “Get out!”
He stepped out from the darkness, his hands at his sides and said her name as if he hoped it were a spell he could enchant her with.
“I said get out!”
“I know you’re angry-”
She grabbed one of those idiotic seven pointed candle sticks and flung it at him with full force, candle and all. 
He ducked and it crashed to the floor behind him and Aemond turned to see whether it had shattered or not.
So he barely saw the second candlestick coming in time. 
Cursing under his breath, he crossed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist before she could hurl a third in his direction.
Pushing her up against the wall, he twisted both candle and knife from her hands, kicking them away, as he said her name once more. 
“Get out!”, she snarled, trying to kick him, but he stood so close she couldn’t gather momentum. 
“I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
She turned her head away until her cheek was pressed to the cold stone to be away from him. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, he admitted, taking a step back.
She almost laughed at him.
“You knew exactly what you were doing!”, she snapped, using her newly reached freedom of movement to slap him. 
He let her.
But once his head was facing her again, he seemed unmoved. 
“Lucerys -”
“Lucerys is a boy!”, she snapped, not letting him finish. “It has been years, Aemond. Let it go!”
He always had such a keen memory when it came to that joke, except the fact that it had been his own brother who had had the idea. 
Aemond scoffed and shook his head. 
“You always take his side.”, he spat as if stating a crime she had committed. 
“Of course I do. He is my brother. My little brother!”
She could see his jaw muscles working in silent rage and shook her head in disbelief. 
How could he ask for loyalty now? After what he had done? After Aegon had attacked him? A man twice his size?
“One minute you wish to steal me away from marriage, the next you call me a bastard-”
His hand grabbed her arm, stopping her pacing. 
“I didn’t call anyone anything!”, he reminded her, as if a technicality would absolve him. 
She faced him headon, glaring at him with nothing but rage and disgust in her eyes and her voice trembled with suppressed anger. 
“If they are bastards,”, she hissed through clenched teeth, “So am I.”
Aemond swallowed hard as he weighed his words. Still, he refused to relent.
“You are not a thief.”, he argued. 
“A thief?”, she demanded to know, his words only ever stoking her rage. “And pray tell, how are Jacaerys and Lucerys thieves? They are my mother’s sons!”
“They aren’t trueborn!”, Aemond argued. “You know it too, I know you do!”
She had bit back a chuckle while he had acted so prim and proper at the dinner, praying, but it wasn’t funny anymore. 
Someone must’ve had a better aim with those stupid seven-pointed star candleholders than I did. 
“They won’t inherit the Iron Throne because of Laenor Velaryon.”, she reminded him. “They inherit it because of my mother. Your future Queen!”
Aemond chuckled, shaking his head and making her want to strike him.
Mocking her brothers and now insulting her mother?
She felt like she would explode with rage, when she heard the door handle click. 
Giving Aemond a shove, half in the hope that he would fall, hit his head or break his arm, she rushed towards the door before it could fully open. 
She imagined the guards, some servants, her mother, Daemon or Jace - but it was neither and so she fell to her knees.
 “Aegon!”, she gasped, all traces of anger disappearing as she saw the tears on his cheeks. 
“Sweetling, what’s wrong?”
He was in his nightclothes, clutching the blanket in his hand. 
Instead of responding, he buried his face in her lap and sobbed. 
“Oh my love!”, she whispered as she reached for him and lifted him up, her hand on the back of his head as she began to walk back and forth with him in her arms, as his tears began to soak her dress. 
With one glance, she made sure that Aemond was hidden from view, before sitting down on the edge of her bed and placing him in her lap. 
He only ever let go of her reluctantly and she began to wipe his tears away as his fingers grabbed her dress for good measure. 
“What happened?”, she asked. 
His lip began to tremble. 
“I couldn’t find anyone.”, he whimpered, unable to meet her eyes. “You were all gone! All of you!”
With that, he flung himself at her again, his head hitting her chest at full force. 
“Sweetling, we were at the feast. You know that.”
“You were gone!”, he insisted. “I was looking for you and you were gone. You were all gone and you left me alone!”
She held him until his sobs had turned to hiccups and whimpers before trying to meet his eyes again. 
“Come now, Aegon!”, she asked softly, “look at me now.”
He tried to avoid her eyes and so she lifted him off her lap and crouched down in front of him, looking up at his violent eyes as she cupped his face. 
“It’s alright.”, she assured him, her thumb stroking over his damp face. 
“It’s not.”, he argued. “I want to go home.”
“We’re going home!”, she promised. “
“Now?”
There was such hope in his voice, it hurt her to shatter it. 
“Not now, no. But tomorrow. Just one more sleep.”
He sniffled before laying down on the blanket. 
“Can I stay with you?”
She smiled softly as she ran her hand over his hair. So soft. So pale.
“You can’t.”, she said softly. “I’ll take you back to your nursery.”
“I don’t like it there! The walls…they are wrong. They’re scary.”, he confessed. 
For a moment she considered, but then she lifted him up in her arms. 
“I know, Aegon.”, she promised. “And that’s alright. Everyone is scared sometimes.”
“Everyone?”
She nodded.
“But you can be brave too, can’t you? My little dragon.”
That made his lip twitch into the hint of a smile. 
“And besides, you’ve got Viserys with you. Even you are a bit scared, you two can be brave together.”
She leaned her forehead against his.
“I promise.”
“I’ll be braver with you!”, Aegon argued, his hand clinging to her dress once more. 
She kissed the top of his head as she opened the door once more, carrying him back to the nursery.
It was nearly half an hour before he was settled, only falling asleep after she had sung him a Valyrian hymn, and she returned to her chambers.
Aemond was sitting just where she had placed Aegon to sooth him. 
“You’re good with him.”, he said softly. 
“He is my little brother.”, she said, too exhausted to fight.
Nothing was as draining as watching her little brother’s sorrow. 
“Yes, I know.”, he said defeat in his voice.
 He stretched out his hand and lifted his eyes, both violet and blue, in a silent plea as he stretched out his hand.
“I’m sorry.”, he said. 
She hesitated for three heartbeats before swallowing hard and crossing the room. 
Leaving his hand where it hung, she stopped to stand right between his legs and cupped his face, letting her thumb brush over the scar on his cheek. 
“Do you want to hear the truth, Aemond?”, she asked, though why she did not know. 
Perhaps the hour was too late or too early, perhaps Aegon’s tears had softened her resolve, perhaps the blow he had dealt her at dinner made her bleed out to the point of delusion. 
Perhaps she was just too tired or perhaps this game they played had gotten too complicated for her. 
Perhaps she was ready to end it, even if it meant losing. 
He looked almost frightened.
“If there is a choice, or even the hope of a choice, I would always choose you.”, she confessed, letting her thumb trace down to his lips.
Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena would hate her for saying that, and she could only guess what her mother and Daemon would think. 
His hand found her waist as he leaned his head against her chest, holding her tight. 
She allowed him, and let her hand find the back of his head as it had found Aegon’s earlier, stroking over it.
It would have been easy to stay like that, to hold him and let him hold her, to melt into his arms, his embrace, his body, to have his lips coax away the pain they had dealt her earlier. 
No, she reminded herself, not just her, but Jace and Luke and Joff, and her mother too. 
“But when it comes to my brothers, there is no choice.”
End
~
Part III
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!
Tagging a few people who I think might be interested in the sequel:
@sanzyfavbitch @luthientinu @unnamedm @janelongxox @crazylokonugget @sarcasticsweetlara @anditsmywholeheart @tinydramatist @sleepy0nez @words-way-of-life @redpool @c-chann
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powerbottom · 11 months
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Daily meditating...
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plantsandtheiruses · 2 years
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Dragon’s Blood
When burning the resin, it is said errant lovers will come back. 
Place a stick from this plant under your pillow to cure impotency. Burning the dried resin will drive evil and negativity away.
Carrying the dried resin acts as a powerful protection.
When added to other incenses, it heightens the already existing powers of the other elements in the incense.
To gain peace and quiet, powder some and mix with salt and sugar. Then put in a bottle and secure tightly, tuck away in a corner of the house.
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sidewalkchemistry · 2 years
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Dragon's Blood (Dracaena cinnabari)
Dragon’s Blood Trees produce an uncanny facsimile of mammalian blood when cut. A clever coincidence of nature, the sap is also extremely compatible with mammal bio-systems. For many thousands of years, experienced indigenous healers in South America have known about the powerful medicinal properties of this sap. Sange De Drago, requires no alcohol, preservatives, or processing to keep it fresh. Dragon’s Blood sap is a rich, complex source of alkaloids and procyanidins (condensed tannins). When applied to skin, the sap dries to a thin layer that seals a wound area. It also kills parasites, viruses, and bacteria. Dragon’s Blood is often consumed internally for ulcers, infected gums, and to staunch bleeding after childbirth. There is evidence that it even kills cancer cells.
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I also found that Dragon’s Blood does wonders for my skin, although upscale cosmetic companies have already discovered this fact, and are now using Dragon’s Blood as an ingredient in pricey bottles of face cream. Dragon’s Blood can be blended with almost anything you are already using. A bit drying by itself, mixing it with a cream base, or something thicker like Egyptian Magic (a whole other post) quickly produces a very healing skin tonic. The biggest drawback is that it stains.
Depending on how concentrated the Dragon’s Blood used in your home preparation, it will temporarily color your face, no matter what your skin tone. While it washes off skin and hair easily, be aware that it stains fabric and can get under your finger nails, making them seem dirty. A little soap, peroxide, and a nail brush will fix this quickly. I find that either alone, or blended with cream, Dragon’s Blood works best if you also mix a dab of Aloe/DMSO cream.
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