#oc: aemon targaryen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joeyscherryjubilee · 1 year

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Like Calls to Like (I)

Pairing: Aemond x OC

Author's Note: First part! Keen to see what y'all think. There's a bit of mutual pining but won't be much slow burn. Keeping to the show, we're gonna have a few time jumps.

Warnings: Jealous!Aemond, time-jump six years from the prologue

Word Count: 3,420

Summary: Aemond and Laenyra have been in love for years, they just aren't willing to admit it yet. At Aegon's nameday celebrations, Laenyra looks for answers about her dragon and Aemond gets jealous.

Laenyra huffed, turning in the mirror, trying to see all angles of the dress.

“I don’t know.” She muttered, twirling back and forth.

Helaena giggled at her niece’s antics, the handmaidens standing against the wall giggled as the princess spun so quickly she almost fell over.

“Wasn’t there a red and black one?” Laenyra asked, looking to Helaena with a hopeful smile.

Her aunt nodded and looked to the maids.

“Bring us that gown.”

They rushed to fulfil the command and Helaena came forward, helping in undoing the strings binding the dress together.

“Thank you.” Laenyra murmured, stepping out of the dress and discarding it on the bed.

Helaena stroked the slight bags under Laenyra’s eyes with a frown.

“You haven’t been sleeping well?” Her aunt asked quietly.

“No, it’s the dragondreams.” Laenyra shifted on the spot. “We’ve been flying south the past few weeks. Lately, as soon as I fall asleep I’m there.”

Laenyra did not fear the strange dreams, but it was difficult to find rest when her mind was so far away and she often woke up exhausted.

“South?” Helaena asked and threw an arm around her niece’s shoulders, wishing to provide comfort.

“Yes, I recognised Horn Hill a few nights past.” She yawned, resting her head on Helaena.

“Well a Lord Tarly is visiting in honour of Aegon’s nameday, perhaps you can speak to him and ask about it, if your dragon has been there for a little while, he might of heard of it.”

Helaena’s idea was a good one and Laenyra felt hope bloom in her chest.

The servants presented the embellished gown of black and crimson and Laenyra’s heart soared and her smile lit the room. Helaena assisted her in getting it on, pulling the dress ti secure it properly before ushering her niece to the mirror once again.

The gown was tight. Though it was clearly made it be, to accentuate the proportions of her body.

“You look so beautiful, like the red lacewing butterfly.” Helaena said dreamily.

“Thank you, Helaena.” Laenyra had no idea what a red lacewing butterfly looked like, but any comparison to a bug was a big compliment when coming from her aunt. “Do you think everyone will like it?”

“You mean Aemond?” She asked with a small smile. “Yes, I think he will.”

“Shall we?” Laenyra did a playful bow, attempting to change the topic, and offered her arm as she stood. Helaena giggled and took it, slotting themselves together.

The two princesses laughed as they ran down the halls, Helena outstripping Laenyra and giggling at how difficult it was for her niece to run in such a dress. They were hurrying in order to not miss the official entrance of the royal family.

Laenyra grabbed at Helaena as she almost rounded the final corner and tugged her into an alcove.

“Wait.” She whispered and fixed her aunt’s dress that had ridden up from running.

“Thank you.” Helaena murmured and tucked Laenyra’s stray hair back into place.

They rounded the corner as one, arms linked and smiling in such an innocent way that surely no one could accuse them of anything.

“You’re late.” Ser Criston reprimanded as they came into view.

“Princesses are never late, Ser Criston.” Viserys corrected and his smile brightened as he reached for his granddaughter. “Everyone else is simply early.”

“You look so beautiful, my dear girl. Your mother must be so proud of you.” He manoeuvred with his cane and stepped forward, pressing a frail kiss to Laenyra’s cheek and a kind hand on Helena’s cheek.

“Happy name-day, Prince Aegon.” Helaena and Laenyra spoke in unison as Queen Alicent ushered Aegon forward. He muttered a greeting at them, stumbling slightly.

“You will escort your wife.” Alicent muttered sternly and the eldest son of Viserys huffed and begrudgingly offered Helaena his arm. The princess took it with a grimace and Laenyra smiled supportively as Helaena sent a sad look her way.

“And Aemond will escort Laenyra!” Viserys said happily. Alicent looked as though she would rather have Vhagar escort Aemond to the ball, but could say nothing as her husband stepped aside and ushered their second son forward.

Her heart beat fast as he stood before her, the top half of his hair pulled back but the rest cascading downwards in silken tresses. His tunic was fitted to perfection, an inky green that only enhanced the vividness of his eye. He had gotten a new eyepatch too, she noticed, a deep brown leather that he seemed to prefer to his old one. He smiled at her and her knees almost gave way.

His eye darkened as it roamed over her, his jaw clenched and unclenched twice before he managed to steady himself.

“Princess Laenyra.” Aemond said and bowed to her with a charming grin.

Laenyra blushed at his antics.

“Prince Aemond.” She teased and took his outstretched hand, her heart leaping in her chest as he pressed a kiss to it before tucking it in the crook of his elbow.

Viserys chuckled as he watched them, his love of their relationship one of the few things that granted him true happiness in recent years. He was eagerly waiting for the day in which they acknowledged their feelings to each other, so he might arrange a match between them, if he could convince Alicent.

“Right.” The queen said briskly, attempting to draw the attention off of the too familiar relationship. “Shall we?”

Viserys nodded and they all fell into line, Aegon and Helaena behind the king and queen. Laenyra and Aemond behind them, her fingers slotting between his as Ser Criston announced their entry.

“You are perfection, Laenyra.” Aemond whispered as the doors were pulled open.

“You exaggerate, uncle.” She said with a soft smile, half-tempted to flee from his intense gaze, but she could never run from her Aemond.

“On the contrary, niece.” He purred and led them forward into the hall. “Sometimes I look at you, and I can scarcely believe you are real.”

“You are silly.” Laenyra mumbled and Aemond chuckled, parading them through the hall and to the head table, the two of them sitting next to Helaena and Aegon.

The surrounding tables were lined with courtesans, those who lived at court, though that number had dwindled slowly with the king’s ailing health.

“Did Aemond like your dress?” Her aunt asked as soon as they sat down, not bothering to lower her voice and Laenyra groaned internally as Aemond’s look became one of intense interest and he leaned closer to them.

“Indeed, dear sister. I dare say our niece is a vision sent by the gods themselves.” He said with a grin, enjoying how Laenyra’s face flushed at his continued appraisal of her appearance

“I told you he would like it!” Her aunt beamed at the two of them, often finding refuge from her own marriage in the building relationship between her brother and niece.

“You were worried about my opinion?” Aemond asked, his voice lowering slightly as he frowned.

Laenyra huffed.

“I just wanted to look nice.” She muttered defensively.

“You have succeeded so severely I believe that ‘nice’ would be an insult.”

“You’re making her uncomfortable, Aemond.” Helaena said softly, noticing how Laenyra shifted and mistaking it for discomfort. In reality Laenyra wished to pull him closer and press their lips together, the audience before them be damned. His words stirred such a heat in her belly, a fire that only ignited in his presence.

Aemond took his sister’s words though and quieted himself, allowing Laenyra a slight reprieve from her yearning for him.

Viserys stood and the room silenced.

“It is wonderful to see you all.” He said in a soft voice, his health not allowing him to project across the banquet hall. “We are all here to celebrate my Aegon’s name day. He is a man grown, and I am rejoiced to be able to welcome you here.”

He let out a small cough and went to continue, though he had to sit in order to collect himself as a spasm of pain went through him. Viserys sat at Alicent’s urging and everyone clapped politely, sharing looks of concern at their king’s depleting health.

Aegon wasted no time in toasting the room before drinking very deeply from his cup.

Alicent grimaced at her son’s choice but said nothing, Otto simply regarded Aegon calmly before his gaze flicked over to Laenyra and Aemond. She stared back resolutely, she would not be intimidated by such a man.

Aemond caught her staring back at his grandsire and huffed, their feud something he could not prevent though it irritated him endlessly. He drew Laenyra’s attention back to him with a touch, glaring at Otto for disrupting her happiness.

“He enjoys upsetting you, I think.” He said softly, placing a large cut of prime rib on her plate before serving himself.

Laenyra growled under her breath, picking at the food while shooting daggers to Otto. Her anger was soon forgotten though as Helaena grimaced at Aegon’s loud belch. She attempted to ignore the rudeness of her uncle as she ate. Though soon she saw his gaze flicker over to a serving girl by the door and decided enough was enough. Laenyra leant over and rested her chin on Helaena’s shoulder with a comforting smile.

“Would you like to dance?” She asked softly, nodding towards the already twirling couples, those eager to forget the heaviness of the atmosphere.

Helaena adored dancing and she smiled eagerly, her anxieties momentarily forgotten.

“Yes, I would like to dance.”

Laenyra turned to Aemond.

“I going to dance with Helaena.” She said and squeezed his arm as she stood.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” He asked, standing quickly to pull her char out for her.

“I believe we will be okay.” Laenyra teased at his protective tone. “Though you are welcome to jump in if I need saving from a monster.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, smirking amusedly at her jests.

Aemond watched them step down from the table together, his eye keenly sweeping over the crowd, determining there were no threats to the two people he cared most about.

He saw nothing of import but kept a keen eye on them nonetheless.

“You lead.” Laenyra encouraged her aunt eagerly. Helaena nodded determinedly and lead Laenyra in a dance, their own movements matching those of the surrounding partners. The princesses giggled at the disapproving looks from some the crowd, the fact neither one of them was escorted seemed to be displeasing to a few Lords and Ladies.

They managed to dance three songs together before someone disrupted them, a lord from the Riverlands asking Helaena to dance, no doubt wanting the favour of the princess rumoured to be so kind.

Laenyra met Aemond’s high from the high table and grinned as he raised a teasing eyebrow. She began weaving through the crowd, seeking to go and pull him into a dance.

“Might I have this dance, Princess Laenyra?” She halted and saw Aemond frown as someone spoke from behind her.

Laenyra spun on her heel to face an unfamiliar man.

“Lord Alan Tarly of H-”

“Horn Hill!” Laenyra chirped, interrupting the lord in her excitement. “Apologies for interrupting you, my lord.”

“There is nothing to apologise for, Princess.” He said politely, clearly happy that she knew of him.

“So you are enjoying the capital?” Laenyra asked, eager to converse with him, trying to figure out a way to guide the conversation.

Lord Tarly hummed as though in thought.

“The trickery of the court is unfortunately lost on me, I have no patience for those who do not mean what they say. Or perhaps I am not quick enough to keep up.” He said it with a smile and Laenyra found herself warming to the Lord.

“You are an honest man to admit such a shortcoming, though I must admit the necessity of cunning in court is a tiresome one.” She said with a graceful twirl as the music built.

“And you, my princess, are the first to admit the extremity of cunning required in the capital. I do believe that means I can trust you.”

Laenyra gave the lord a smile, allowing him to lead her through the dance.

“I do believe only fools trust dragons.” She said with a teasing tone.

“Call me a fool then.” Lord Tarly stated with a grin and Laenyra laughed.

The dance came to an end and they clapped politely.

“Might I be inappropriate and ask you for another dance?”

“You may.” Laenyra grinned, she liked Alan Tarly and his honesty about the cruel games of the capital. She didn’t get many chances to meet new people any more, in the time of her mother living in the capital, visitors were common and easy to meet. But as Viserys’ state weakened, newcomers were far and few between.

The music resumed and the couple began dancing once again.

“So on Horn Hill, the surrounding forests are said to be full of game, is that true?” Laenyra asked, attempting an air of polite curiosity.

“Yes! Hunting is a popular pastime, the stags are magnificent to hunt. If you ever visit the Reach, Princess, it would be an honour to host you and a hunt.” He said eagerly, clearly fond of Laenyra and his family’s famed hobby.

“It is a lovely offer, My Lord.” She said with the politeness of a princess. “Are stags the only large animals in Horn Hill, do you have many predators?”

If Lord Tarly noticed her focus in their conversation, he made no mention of it.

“Yes.” He seemed keen to discuss his home and Laenyra was glad for it. “There are bears from the Crownlands and a few wolves even.”

“No number of predators to truly disrupt the balance of prey then?” She asked softly, feeling disappointed at his answer.

Alan Tarly frowned at her peculiar line of questioning but didn’t say anything.

“There has been a few reports of animal parts, carcasses being found as of late. Only in the past few weeks though, before I journeyed to the capital. Also an oddity of deer coming far too close to the keep’s walls, almost as though a predator, most likely a bear, has wandered into their habitat.” He spoke as a true hunter, the logistics of the it all laid out in preparation for a future hunt, but the specifics confirmed what Laenyra suspected.

She smiled gratefully at his answer, immediately falling deep in thought. Lord Tarly noticed her shift though and grinned sheepishly.

“Apologies, Princess Laenyra.” He said with an awkward chuckle. “My family takes hunting as serious as war sometimes. I did not mean to speak on things I’m sure you have no interest in.”

“No, it is no issue at all, I find it all quite interesting.” Laenyra insisted with a gracious smile. She couldn’t wait to tell Aemond, this was proof her dreams were true.

Lord Alan led her in the remainder of the dance graciously, his demeanour a friendly one and she was glad to talk to him.

The music swelled and the dance sped up, Laenyra and Lord Tarly breathless with joyful smiles as the song finally came to an end.

“Might I dare to lead you in a third dance?” His tone was teasing and she was eager to continue their conversation.

“Of co-”

“I do believe two dances is more than enough.” Aemond’s voice cut through the jovial mood with the sternness of his tone and immediately Lord Alan ducked his head respectfully. “You would not want anyone to believe something improper is going on.”

The clipped way he spoke told Laenyra he was jealous, and she turned to face him, her hand reaching to tuck into his elbow.

“Of course not, my prince.” The lord bowed once again and turned to Laenyra. “It was a pleasure, Princess Laenyra. I hope to see more of you during my visit.”

“Of course you do.” Aemond muttered with such hostility that she led him away and into a dance, the song slower now and perfect for conversing and not being overheard.

He gripped her waist firmly, his fingers grasping at her as his other hand slotted perfectly over her own. His eagerness to have her in his grasp was quite endearing.

“There was no need to interrupt.” She murmured calmly.

“You looked like you needed saving.”

Laenyra grinned at his protective nature, though jealousy certainly played its part in Aemond’s actions.

“I was asking Lord Tarly about his home, if you must know.” She said coolly and squeezed his hand to let Aemond know she was not upset.

“Horn Hill, why?” He asked, an eyebrow arching at the oddness of her interest. “You’ve never mentioned an interest in the Reach before.”

Laenyra took a brief, casual, glance around to ensure no one was focusing too much on the two of them.

“I had another dream last night.” She said softly.

Aemond frowned.

“Why did you not come and wake me?” He asked, his hand on her waist drawing her closer as his voice lowered. They had slept separately the past few nights, an odd occurrence as the two of them could only sleep peacefully in the other’s company.

Laenyra shrugged nonchalantly but Aemond saw through her immediately.

“They’ve been bad again?” He asked, his look one of deep concern.

“Not bad.” She insisted quickly. “Just intense. We’ve been hunting more and I think flying South. We flew over Bitterbridge in the night, I recognised the old stone bridge and the flat lands. Though we have been near Horn Hill for a little while.”

“Not ‘we’, Laenyra. I know you feel part of the beast but they are dreams, we have no proof the dragon even exists.” Aemond spoke kindly but she frowned at his words.

“You know they are more than dreams, and no one would be able to spot such a dark dragon if he only flew at night. I saw the damage to the Stony Sept before we received word of it.”

Aemond nodded to himself, he knew her dreams were more than imagination, especially when she faded away from him during the day, though those fits had become less common as they had gotten older.

“Alright, what did your Lord Tarly say?” He asked, attempting to keep out the jealous tone and failing.

“He said that there has been less game as of late, or the prey had taken to hiding from something. His maester had theorised that there must be an increase of predators or something has migrated south and disrupted the normal balance. Only a dragon could do such a thing, and the forests are so dense and unpopulated by people that no one would be able to see it.”

Aemond could not argue with her sound logic, but the idea of his princess running off to Horn Hill in search of a wild dragon was unimaginably dangerous, and he would never allow her to go into such danger.

“Allow me to take you if you must go.” He blurted it out desperately though they had discussed it multiple times.

“Aemond, you know that you cannot. You are too protective and Vhagar will scare off any dragon, wild or eitherawise, and you will not allow me to get too close and you would be putting yourself in danger, there are countless reasons for you not to come.”

“None of them important enough to dismantle the one reason I should go.”

Laenyra huffed, her exasperation at his stubborn defence of her beyond irritating.

“Oh yes, what reason is that?”

“We are always meant to be together.” He said calmly but his eye was ablaze with passion.

Aemond’s gaze was intense and she ducked her head, attempting to conceal how flustered she was. He twirled her once more as the music swelled and then led her off the dance floor, his arm firm around her waist.

“You will come to my room tonight.” He said softly, pressing a kiss full of care to her hand as he finally released her. “Then perhaps we can both sleep soundly.”

Laenyra smiled softly and nodded, wishing to hug him tightly but people were glancing at their abrupt departure from the dance.

“Alright.” She consented and pressed a daring kiss to his cheek before disappearing into the crowd, embarrassed at her own brazenness.

Aemond stared after her. The fire inside him roaring as he withheld from chasing after the woman he loved.

___________________

Tags: @grungegrrrl, @daddysfavoritesexkitten, @neenieweenie

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yummycastiel · 2 years

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''The Dreamer'' Aemond Targaryen x OC Series Masterlist

summary: Daenys Velaryon, the brown-haired second child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, travels to King's Landing with her family to visit the King, her grandfather, and to witness Jacaerys' and Baela's wedding. As tensions between house Targaryen rise, Daenys and Aemond cross paths once again, and the prince discovers an annoying attraction to the Velaryon girl. (AU where the Dance doesn't happen because I said so and I just wanted to write an Aemond fanfic that isn't too complicated lol)

ship: aemond targaryen x original female character

info: targ!cest, uncle/neice

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

part 9

part 10

part 11

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond one eye targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond the kinslayer #prince aemon #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon

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bittersweetarts · 2 years

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Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 2)

Aemond Targaryen x You – Chapter 1

Word count: 6608 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Explicit violence, misogynistic behaviour (borderline sexist), dubious consent, no smut

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 2: Jealousy

It has been little over a month since your settlement at the Red Keep, and thankfully, you have seen little of the wayward Prince.

Aemond had been away at Driftmark, or at least that is what you think Helaena told you. To be frank, you really did not care. He was away somewhere, wherever that was, to quell some resistance (because unsurprisingly, not all are content with being oath breakers and/or serving cruel tyrants). In a way, you wish you had been brave and refused Queen Alicent’s request, as some others are refusing to pledge loyalty to the current monarchs, because you could not say that you were happy being at King’s Landing. You did feel almost at ease, but you could not help but dread whatever misfortune that is heading your way, and you had no doubt that something bad was going to happen to you. Worst of all, you knew that now, you do not have your family to protect you.

The capitol lacked the beauty and charm of your ancestral home, and you missed the wild sea, which you loved to frequent whenever you could. Contrastingly, the water at Blackwater Bay was rank, and the weather was perpetually humid. Your father’s parting words also permanently echo in your inner dialogue, especially before bed every night.

“Secure a marriage with anyone suitable as soon as possible and leave King’s Landing. There is little I can do for you now, my child.”

The remainder of the Summer Solstice Festival was uneventful, and oddly, you could not help but notice that no one would approach you at all during the final events. You opted to miss as many of the events as you could, feigning illness from the unaccustomed weather. To be fair though, you did feel sick at many of these events. Just a glimpse of the one-eyed Prince or his brothers made you feel violently ill, and you remained glued to your brother’s side, successfully deterring unwanted attention. Mostly, you kept your eyes down to your feet and remained silent. Often, you felt paranoid, as it constantly felt like you were being watched. That could not be true, could it?

Little known to you, you were garnered little physical attention during the remainder of the Festival, not because you were unnoticeable. On the contrary, after the Ball, you had become the main topic of conversation for many at the Keep. Though no one seemingly observed your interaction with the Prince on the balcony, you were seen being carried off unconscious on the arms of a Prince known for violence, and predictably, many gossiped about the events in closed quarters.

Though the Prince did not bother himself with idle tongues, he did come up with some meager excuse for his family for the event, which they accepted prima facie, because why would they not? It was none of their concern and they had many more pressing matters. Also, the Queen had become almost fond of you, well enough to turn a blind eye to any indiscretions that may or may not have occurred; and more likely, nothing had happened, because her darling Aemond would never commit any such depravity, for he has never been anything like Aegon.

Any potential suitors which your mother had entertained suddenly gone taciturn, and with your impending relocation, you chaperones chose to ignore the obvious and begin to dote on you, giving you more attention than ever had in your life. What everyone, except you, knew is that there was a silent figure behind the scenes which intimidated all noblemen at the Keep from even starting a conversation in public regarding you. Having no one to talk to, except your mother and Steffan, you felt isolated, which was not unusual, but you knew that this time, it was not you who decided these terms. You had even hoped that perhaps, an opportunity to interact with Queen Helaena would present itself. However, she was constantly busy, and you rarely got to talk to her.

Thankfully, the Festival ended quickly. At the blink of an eye, you were home at Storm’s End, packing your belongings and saying goodbye to your family. It was particularly difficult saying goodbye to your youngest siblings, who you helped raise, and they had barely reached the middle of their childhoods. They were so young and could not understand why you were leaving. You were not being wed, so why should you leave their family?

More painful however, were the despairing looks your elder siblings and parents gave you. No one uttered a word about your time at King’s Landing, for what could they say?

And so, you found yourself soon back at the capitol, alone now. The kind Queen Helaena however, tried so very hard to make you feel otherwise, and as did the lovely Queen Alicent.

Following your arduous journey, you were greeted by the female members of the Royal Family and settled into your new quarters, which though smaller, was significantly more lavish than your previous accommodations at the Keep. You also could not help but notice the stocked shelves near the wooden desk in your room, filled with countless titles which caught your eye. The title that immediately caught you eye was ‘Ruined Cities, Stolen Gods’ by a man named Vaggoro.

You were also introduced to Helaena’s children – Jaehaera, Jaehaerys and Maelor. Each was as lovely as their mother, and though they did not resemble your siblings, you could not help but feel affection towards them just the same. During the day, you found yourself spending time with Helaena and her children. Some afternoons you would be at the Gardens, playing hide and seek with the children, and on more warmer days, you would be at their chambers, sat on a daybed, reading to them about Targaryen history. Occasionally, Helaena’s brother-husband, Aegon would hastily greet you whilst visiting his children and sister-wife, but mostly, he ignored you.

It is common fact throughout Westeros that Aegon II has been different since his capture by his uncle, the now deceased Prince Daemon Targaryen. The stories about what had happened during his capture remains mystery, but what everyone accepts is that the King has become an empty shell of who he used to be. Whether that was so terrible, you could not say, as his childhood depravity was infamous throughout the Kingdom.

More often though, you would find Prince Daeron with the children and Helaena. As expected from a young Prince, he frequently skived training and history classes, spending time with the children. He would tell them lively stories of his adventures riding the she-dragon, Tessarion, and would often casually flirt with you. You did not mind it, and in a way, the young Prince reminded you of Steffon, who was similarly charismatic, frequently flirtatious, and rarely failed to lift the spirits of those he was around.

You also knew that Prince Daeron’s flirting was harmless. He was more than almost a decade younger than you, and you soon saw that he flirted not only with you and almost every lady at the Keep, but even with some boys, and rather shamelessly so. Not that it is any of your business.

And so, time gently glided by. Slowly, you started feeling at peace at King’s Landing. In a way perhaps, complacent, as you did not heed your father’s parting advice. You did not try to entertain suitors, and during the evenings (your only free time), you chose to confine yourself in your chambers, reading one of the many books in your new collection. You did not even have to bring yourself to visit the Keep’s Library, as you were satisfied with the options in your chambers. Also, you still felt uneasy about being out alone after dark, memories of the last time you had done so flooding in like a heavy current.

You found that your sweet tooth at the capitol was best satisfied by plum cakes, and you always stopped by the Royal Kitchens every morning to bashfully grab some for breakfast. You could not stomach properly eating in front of anyone except family, so you always broke your fast alone before joining the Royal Family for breakfast.

Slowly, your daily routine transpired. Although there were many other ladies-in-waiting, maids and servants at the Keep, you and Helaena’s family soon became absorbed in your own world, with its little routines. Part of your morning tasks included being the only person to set out breakfast for the Royal Family. This was so out of security precautions; Helaena did not trust anyone being left alone with you in a room filled with items that could be weaponized, and you did not mind being alone. The idle work helped keep your mind off anxious thoughts, and you let yourself get absorbed in the mundane tasks.

Perhaps that is why you did not realise that the wayward Prince was back. When you entered the dining room, expecting it to be empty, it was still dawn. The room was dim, lit by candlelight, and you had only started preparing the table. As you set down the cutlery, a clinking sound echoed throughout the room. Once done, you turned around to head back to the Kitchens, but froze at the sight of Prince Aemond, dressed casually in a billowy white blouse and black riding trousers. It had been a long while since you had seem him last.

The one-eyed Prince was leaning against the wall next to the exit, observing you with a smirk. You were dressed in a short-sleeved light blue gown, and the Prince found the contrast against your tan skin appealing, the vision intoxicating his judgment.

“Please, do not stop upon my accord.”

The Prince was in a good mood, you noted, which was unlike your first solitary encounter, and you preferred this attitude much more. Opting to maintain this mood, you forced a small smile and bowed, briskly heading towards the exit, whilst keeping your hands tightly together in front of you. You had almost managed to leave the room, but foreseeably, Prince Aemond stopped you, gently grabbing your left arm.

“What, no good morning? Am I still to receive your silent treatment?” He spoke lightheartedly with a smile. You bit your tongue, halting any haughty reply. You understood that this is simply a game for the Prince, and you decided that it was best to bore him.

“Good morning, my Prince. Welcome back,” you say in a monotonous voice, devoid of any affection.

You still keep your gaze down to your hands, which slightly irritated the Prince. As alluring you are in that position, the wayward Prince wanted you look back at him, with your memorably defiant stare.

“ ‘My Prince’ – I like that,” Aemond spoke lowly, lifting your chin to face him. “I can think of a few ways you can truly welcome me back,”

You knew that it was too early for anyone to stumble upon you, but the walls have eyes and ears here, and you knew that this would not bode well for you. The Prince, on the other hand, would be left unscathed, even if he were not royalty.

Ignoring his comment and trying to pull away, you looked back at the Prince, endeavouring to change the topic.

“I must finish setting the table before the rest of your family wake. May I request anything from the Kitchens for your breakfast?” Though you attempt to pull away, Prince Aemond still firmly holds your jaw, staring back at you with his violet eye. Ignoring your question, he responds.

“You are not as amusing so early the morning.”

“And you are not amusing to me generally,” you say defiantly, irritated with his attitude now.

Contrastingly, Aemond remained smiling, and opted to amuse himself since you were ceasing to do so. Dragging his fingers smoothly from your jaw, the Prince proceeded to trace your collarbones, which were exposed by your dress. The Prince could not help but notice how bare your chest was. You, on the other hand, had never have you regretted your choice of attire as much as you had then. But what were you to do? If you even raised your voice and someone intervened, you would be found by in a compromising position. Would it even help if you asked him to stop?

So, you chose to do nothing, letting your nerves get the better of you. You closed your eyes, hoping that by some miracle, you would be left alone, or for this moment to pass quickly.

Aemond continued to trace your collarbones, and then your chest, slowly. He was enjoying watching you squirm, and relished the moment. To say you felt helpless was an understatement. Without realising, tears escaped your eyes, which slid down your face and onto your chest.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are when you cry?”

Opening your eyes, you see him staring at your mouth, which vexed you.

“No, but then again, most do not find arousal in the sorrow of others.”

Smiling, Aemond collected remnants of your tears with his forefinger, and tasted it, maintaining eye contact with you. Letting go of your arm, he ran his hand through your hair, softly, as he did before. Though it felt pleasant physically, the circumstances only fueled your indignation.

“I shall let you return to your duties, my lady. The children are to wake soon and will be hungry. If you think me a monster, you must yet have to see them famished.” Chuckling, he resigned to himself.

The moment he let you go, you fled, wiping your face with your sleeve, feeling slightly robbed of your dignity.

The morning quickly drifted by. The wayward Prince was absent at breakfast, much to the dismay of Queen Alicent, who had dearly missed her son. You, however, could not even remotely share the same sentiment. It was here you found out that he had only arrived shortly before meeting you, and was now asleep in his chambers.

The children bickered between themselves, Helaena ranted about her dreams, and the remaining Princes spoke amongst themselves. At one point, Prince Daeron complimented your dress, which would normally flatter you, but not today. At this point, you were ready to burn the dress.

It was an otherwise uneventful morning, and the afternoon similarly drifted by. The twins were off with Queen Helaena, having their portraits painted, and you found yourself alone entertaining young Prince Maelor.

He was a lovely, but mischievous child, and enjoyed causing harmless trouble throughout the Keep. By late afternoon, you found yourself carrying the young Prince to his chambers. After you finally caught the young boy sprinting away from a Ser Osgrey, who he had thrown mud at, exhaustion swept over him, and you decided to carry him off to his chambers and read to him before supper.

Setting the tired child down onto one edge of the emerald-toned day bed, you went off and picked up the thick brown book laying at the windowsill. The heavy book, filled with illustrations, depicted Targaryen history, and it was the unspoken responsibility of every member of the Royal Family to be well acquainted with it.

As you read aloud, Prince Maelor laid his head on your thighs and listened to you read until drifting off to sleep.

“… A modest feast followed the ceremony, and many toasts were drunk to the health of the boy king and his new queen. Afterward Jaehaerys and Alyssane retired to –”

“You have a lovely voice.”

You slightly jump, startled by the new voice. For a moment, you expect King Aegon, or even Prince Daeron, as they are the only ones aside from Queen Helaena who are permitted to enter the children’s chambers without permission. That is, apart from Prince Aemond, who now stood at the closed doorway of the room. You gently rocked the boy Prince, who began to tumble in his sleep due to your startled movement.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you softly respond, glancing at him momentarily before returning your attention to the book in your hands, although you have now stopped reading aloud.

There is a small gap on the daybed to your left, and you suddenly feel it dip. All of the sudden, you feel very warm and your cheeks flush, which the Prince immediately notices, and his lip quirks into a side smile.

“Though it flatters me, you do not have to lose your voice every time I enter the room, my lady.” The wayward Prince smoothly speaks into your ear. At this, your breath hitches. Flustered, you stare at the sleeping Prince.

“So, you are teaching our future Kings and Queen our history. Please do continue, I am sure my beloved nephew still can hear your lovely voice in his sleep. I certainly do.”

For a moment, you contemplate your potential courses of action. You could wake the boy Prince to move away, but that would not help you escape Prince Aemond, and may distress the child. You do not feel obligated to follow the one-eyed Prince’s ridiculous decree, but you also do not fancy hearing his indignant voice anymore, so you decide to read aloud anyways.

Taking in a breath, you glance down at the book again, and continue reading. At one point, you feel Prince Aemond lean his cheek against your shoulder and neck lightly, which momentarily paralyses you. But as you glance at him, you realise that he is simply staring at the book, trying to get a better view. Or at least, that is what you convince yourself, which in actuality, is untrue.

You had been reading for a long while now, and the sun is beginning to set. Though your mind drifts to wondering when the twins and Helaena would return, you knew that portrait painting was a lengthy affair, and that they would be busy probably until supper.

“… The year continued without further crisis or test as Jaehaerys and Alyssane settled in to rule. If certain members of the small council were taken aback when the Queen began to attend their meetings, they voiced their objections only to one another, and soon not even that, for the young Queen proved to be wise, well-read and clever.”

“Reminds me of someone I know,” Prince Aemond interrupted, leaning more onto you. You were now very close, and oddly, an unexplainable feeling coursed through you. Without meaning to, you looked at him, and saw a sincere expression in his face, which felt uncharacteristic. Though the comment was vague, Aemond did truly mean it, based on all of the probing he had done into your life since your arrival.

Aemond proceeded to physically detach himself from you. Facing you, he moved some of the wavy hair that had collected against your slightly damp neck, inching increasingly closer to your face.

You were about to respond, but the sleeping Prince decided to wake at that point. Feeling his stirring, you moved away from the one-eyed Prince, picking the small boy up and hugging him. You knew that Prince Aemond was closely observing you, but found yourself unphased by his stare now. In a way, you have become almost accustomed to his presence. You gently rocked the boy Prince, as he slowly woke.

“Uncle?” He voice spoke groggily first, before repeating in a more excited tone. “Uncle? You have returned!” Prince Maelor almost entirely jumped from you onto Price Aemond, which the latter embraced delightfully, picking the young boy up and spinning him around the room whilst greeting him.

If you were being honest, the sight of the long-haired blonde Prince spinning his nephew around as the warm sunset light drifted in through the window, was beautiful, and it became a memory you would truly cherish.

You had felt content for the following weeks to come. Your duties made time fly by, but as the weather slightly cooled, you started to feel better, and less overwhelmed by the foreign city.

The days passed as they always did, the only difference being the ever-needy presence of Prince Aemond. As a trusted confidant of the King, Prince Aemond was constantly busy, yet he always made time to be around Helaena and the children, and by extension, you. And this was an arrangement to the Prince’s liking, not that he was surprised, as his plans rarely go astray.

However, the cruel Prince did not anticipate one unwelcomed factor in his plan: Jayse Wylde, one of the eldest of the Jasper Wylde’s many children.

Jasper Wylde is the master of laws in his elder brother's small council, and for some odd reason, this made his heir, Jayse, feel immune to the callousness of the one-eyed Prince.

It was known throughout the Keep that you were off bounds, practically prohibited. It was clear as day that the Queens cherished your presence, trusting you with the children, and the attention Prince Aemond had bestowed upon you was unlike his public character, and many whispered behind closed doors that you were his paramour.

Unbeknownst to you, during one of the nights of the Festival, a nobleman from some northern house spoke crudely about your figure that evening, not realising that the one-eyed Prince was nearby, and to this day, no one knows where this minor nobleman is. Most speculate that he was fed to the she-dragon, Vaghar, and the Prince has not tried to dispel with these rumours in the slightest.

That is why the one-eyed Prince did not even anticipate that the cocksure Jayse Wylde, who doesn’t even reside in King’s Landing, would try to garner your attention, because surely his father would knock some sense into him, would he not?

Yet, Jayse still tried.

He first stumbled upon you on a holy day, as you left the Great Sept of Baelor alone, following morning congregation. You wore a blue dress with a black cape, and Jayse did not recognise you at first. He felt compelled to introduce himself. Though you were initially startled, Jayse was charismatic and traditionally attractive, with a tall build and dark hair. As he introduced himself, you felt at ease.

He was charming and confident, and seemed similarly pious. You discovered that he was visiting his father at King’s Landing, and was recently anointed as the new Lord of Rain House, located in the stormlands, fairly close to Storm’s End. Hearing this, a surge of longing struck you. Immediately, you practically begged him to tell you all about his life there, and soon found yourself spending the day strolling with him through the nicer parts of the capitol, pleasantly conversing. Though it could have been deemed improper for a maiden like yourself to be alone with a lord in public, he kept a respectful distance and you felt like you could trust him.

Though you are beautiful, Jayse was most attracted when you introduced yourself. The nobleman recognised your good name immediately and decided to pursue. Based on word of mouth, he knew that the Targaryens valued you immensely, but have only known you for a brief amount of time. You leaving the Red Keep should not be a difficult, given that you are a noblewoman after all, and all expect you to wed. Having you as a lady wife for himself, or even his any of his brothers, would serve immense political utility. Yes, you would be a very useful piece in this game of thrones, and your presence alone would be good protection for the House of Wylde.

And slowly, the young Wylde began courting you, not discretely, but not publicly either, which suited you well, as you did not crave unwanted attention.

He felt familiar and being with him was a promise of being closer to home and family, something you valued vastly. Conversations with him flowed easily, and he never overstepped or disrespected you. He made his intentions towards you clear, or so you believed, and you began imagining a life with him. You both came from large families, and whilst the prospect of birthing many children frightened you, the potential joy that could arise filled you with hope. As much as you loved your siblings, you felt like you lost much of your childhood raising them.

Motherhood had always seemed like a distant prospect for you, but having recently spent so much time caring for the twins and Maelor, the idea of having offspring of your own in your homeland was something you began praying for before bed.

Given your age, position, and that you lacked any guardians or wards, Jayse proceeded to court you rapidly and untraditionally. In the matter of days, you formally met his father during evening tea, and it was this meeting that alerted the one-eyed Prince.

Aemond Targaryen had become accustomed to your presence in his life, and he began looking forward to your meetings. While he found your looks and intellect attractive, he most coveted your physical presence, for it had a soothing quality. You also almost always knew when to speak and when to remain silent, and with you, the mood of the room was constantly cheerful.

Prior to your arrival, his mother was frequently anxious, and almost always in a foul mood, and his sister Helaena persistently avoided her children, leaving them to some nameless maids whilst sinking into a slow depression. With your arrival, life slowly returned back into the Targaryen family. You brought a constant stream of interesting conversation, and when silence was needed, you provided a comforting presence.

That is why your absence at just one family supper had alarmed Prince Aemond. As usual, he strolled in after everyone had begun dining, and had immediately notice a vacant seat directly across the table from him, where you normally sat. The room was duller than normal, the children bickering among themselves, and no one aside from his mother greeted him. As he sat, he could not help but notice his sister’s gloomy silence.

“Where is your Lady? I did not peg her as one who abandons her duties,” Aemond spoke in a chagrin tone.

As if snapped from a trance, Helaena glanced at her brother.

“Oh. She had kindly asked if she could miss supper today, and I did not have the heart to decline her request. She never asks for anything.”

His younger brother, Daeron, oblivious as ever, had been stuffing his face, and managed to speak before Aemond could, his mouth still full.

“Ah! I was wondering where your fair lady was. Did she say what her plans were?”

“To meet the master of the laws. One of his sons is visiting, and he wanted to introduce her before he left,” Helaena responded wistfully, pushing her plate away. The Queen Alicent was silently observed the conversation and felt dread wash over her. Aegon on the other hand, remained absently aloof, slowly eating his meal. As Helaena spoke, the children were taken out of the room by some trusted maids, sensing the rigid atmosphere.

Suddenly, Aemond’s blood began pulsing rapidly. His face would not betray his anger, if not for the flaring of his nostrils.

The Prince had been in a good mood prior to this, and to say that he felt angry was an understatement. Though he had been busy this past week, preoccupied with stragetising the quashing some stupid resistance, he truly did not anticipate that you would organise a marriage on your own so quickly. He now realises that this was never something you were incapable of.

He also did not anticipate that anyone would be foolish enough to go against him again, especially not so soon after the war.

You were quite nervous when you met the master of the laws, but Jayse continuously reassured you that you had nothing to worry about. He told you that you were intelligent, pretty and his father would be a fool to expect anything more.

What you avoided telling the young Wylde was that you worried not of bad impressions, but that his father would strike down your courting immediately, by virtue of your identity. You were not a fool, and you realised that your lack of suitors was not due to your plain appearance or your house’s lack of influence, but due to certain dragons behind the scene. This was exactly what your father discretely warned you about, you felt silly for failing to realise it for so long.

Though you felt comfortable at King’s Landing now, for how long would it last? You were not blind, and you knew that the wayward Prince had at least a remote interest in you. Even he was not in the picture, what of the possessiveness of the Queens? Though you previously fantasised living an independent life, being away from your home and family made you detest yourself for being so ungrateful and ignorant. The life of being a spinster maid now felt like an awful fate, as did becoming a mistress to Prince Aemond. It would not be possible for him to wed someone of such little affluence like yourself, not that it mattered as you knew that you were merely a temporary folly to him, and nothing more. You might as well have been a human attraction in a visiting spectacle to him.

Thankfully though, evening tea went well. The well-spoken Jasper Wylde, though incredibly misogynistic, never ceased to be polite and understanding, and conversation was as pleasant as it could be, though you definitely restrained your tongue many times. The elder Wylde asked about your father, as they knew each other. You proceeded to tell him about some of your father’s exploits, such as his recent trade deal with a Dornish merchant family. This arrangement had introduced the steady import of lavish textiles, a prospect which relieved you immensely, as it has brought in a much-needed income for the household, whose debts seemed ever growing. You also assured the patriarch that a letter has been sent to her parents, informing them of the serious courting currently occurring.

Though untraditional, Jasper accepted this. Like his son, he knew the value of having you in the family, and this process needed to be expediated as quick as possible, so as to avoid the repercussions from the Royal Family. Though Jasper is not one to take such risks, his favoured son had already started, and this was not something that could be easily returned from.

As the evening came to its decline, the council member excused himself, stating that he went to bed early. You felt satisfied with how the introduction went. As you said your goodbyes, Jayse offered to escort to your bedroom. Naturally, you accepted, and the two of you set off. As you walked, the two of you remained in comfortable silence, at least until you neared your chambers. The hall was empty, which was not abnormal as fewer noblewomen have been serving the Queens as of late, resulting in this area of the Keep’s solitude.

“Why don’t you leave with me?” Jayse’s deep voice through the hallway.

You halted, turning to look at him, wide-eyed. Though you have been an active participant, you did not have any expectations for how this courting process would proceed. You have never done anything like this, and truthfully, it still felt like a fantasy.

At the very least, your parents needed to know of this courting, and Jayse had yet to propose your engagement. However, the young Wylde would still be staying for another week, and perhaps, with at their current rate, the prospect is realistic. Surely the Queens would understand your departure. Queen Helaena’s earlier compassion came to memory, and you felt hopeful.

That is, only for a brief moment.

As you opened your mouth to respond, you were suddenly pushed aside, though not harshly. Whilst you did not fall, you felt your soul leave your body. Because in the blink of an eye, you saw a familiar long-haired blonde, pouncing on the young Wylde with no difficulty at all.

For a brief period of time, you were in disbelief of what was happening. You have read stories about violence and bloodshed daily since childhood, but this was the first time you truly witnessed it directly.

In front of you was Prince Aemond, savagely striking your suitor repeatedly, with no difficulty. Whether Jayse put up a fight, you could not say, because when you came to your senses, his face was bloody and unrecognisable. He was unconscious by the time you found your voice, and Aemond showed no indication of stopping. Though his back was facing you, the only sound in the empty hallways was his heavy breathing and a horrid cracking sound. It was this sound that snapped you into your senses.

“Aemond, please, please, stop this!” You yelled through your sobs. You did not even realise that you were crying. But the Prince did not stop, and you proceeded to repeat yourself, again and again. He would not stop however, and you did not know what to do.

You tried to wrap your arms around his waist, but instead, you were mistakenly knocked away. Aemond, blinded by his violent rage, did not even realise. But you were not one to be easily dismayed, and tried again, until you managed to wrap your arms around him. His movements were vicious, and you knew that you would be bruised, at the very least, as collateral damage. Yet you remained, hugging him tighter and begging him until he finally stopped.

You do not know when it was that he halted, but it felt like forever. As you held him tightly, he continued shaking, and you along with him. You were still sobbing, and whether the back of his shirt was damp from sweat or your tears, you could not say. But you remained that way, terrified that if you let him go, he would continue until he murdered Jayse. That is, if he survived this beating.

As the Prince’s breathing slowed, he placed his hands on yours, and unclasped you from himself, turning around to face you. You kept your eyes shut however, afraid to see the damage. You could feel the sleek wetness of the Prince’s hands, and you knew that it was Jayse’s blood, now coating your own hands.

With vehemence, Aemond grabbed hold of your jaw, and the rigid action and the coldness of his damp hands made you open your eyes in surprised. Your eyes were bloodshot, and you were still crying, but that only seemed to satisfy Aemond. Cruelly, the Prince spoke.

“Is not clear to you? How can someone so clever act so dim? What else must I do for you to understand?” Harshly pulling your face to his, Aemond continued, almost spitting his words. “Your place is here with us now. With me.”

Grabbing hold of your waist, the Prince pulled you closer, and you tried shaking your head in defiance, but failed, as Aemond tightened his grip. Moving aside, the Prince pulled on your chin, making face Jayse. The sight made you physically ill, and you immediately shut your eyes.

What you saw was no longer Jayse, but a remnant of who he physically was. Pulling you face back to his, the Prince continued, though you truly wish he had not.

“You do not belong to some fucking insolent lord of nowhere. You belong to me. What must I do for you to understand, to behave?” His words reminded you to those from the first night, and you start shaking even more profusely.

“Let it be clear without any doubt.” You suddenly felt his harsh grip on your face release, and suddenly, a soft hand caressed gently caressed your cheeks, and he changed his tone of speech into something soft, as if he were a lover whispering sweet words into your ear.

“Open your eyes, my lamb.” That stupid nickname only made you shut your eyes more tightly.

Suddenly, the Prince screamed: “Open your eyes, woman! Or perhaps I should finish what I started.”

With this threat, you opened your eyes and grasped hold of his waist again, incredibly tightly. You did this to hopefully stop him, but the Prince interpreted your actions differently. Smiling for the first time since seeing you, he hugged you, and proceeded to stroke your hair gently. The thought of Jayse’s blood in your hair made you feel even more ill, but you swallowed down anything that threatened to escape. The only thing that calmed you down was the fact that you could now hear laboured breathing coming from Jayse. He seems to be unconscious, but alive, and that is all that mattered to you at that point.

Though he still firmly held your waist, you let go of the Prince, and reached up to gently grab his face, cupping it. Aemond was surprised by this, not expecting you to calm down, but here you were, directing his attention and speaking in an even tone.

“I will do whatever you want, whatever it is that you ask for. I will not try to leave, you have my word.” Aemond truly felt like he was in heaven, hearing those words leave your mouth. Though you were sobbing no more, a tear escaped your eye. “But please, my Prince. I beg of you, please, help me bring him to the infirmary.”

Ignoring the last part of your request, Aemond stared at you with his dilated eye, and smiled sincerely, before responding.

“Anything?”

“Anything. I promise.”

The Prince proceed to bring his face to yours, nestling his nose near your left ear, while whispering.

“Tell me that you are mine.”

Swallowing your pride, you comply.

“I am yours.”

“Say it again.”

He reminded you of a child, in need of constant reassurance. You wished you could just slap him, but you were desperate, and you knew that Jayse’s life was in your hands now. You do the only thing you could think of. Tilting your head to your left, you lean forward and chastely press your lips against the Prince’s, hoping that this satisfies him. Pulling away, you feel your lips tingle, and realise that his lip was bloody. It was his own, the fresh copper taste stinging in your mouth. So Jayse did put up a fight. I’m glad.

Aemond remained silent, staring at you wide-eyed and now breathing rabidly. You feel at a loss, so you try again. This time, pressing your lips against his more harshly, you kiss him for a moment longer, before pulling away and cupping his face in your hands.

“Please, Aemond.”

Your voice was dripping with desperation, and the Prince could almost convince himself that you were begging for something else. It took significant will power to ground himself, and with a sigh, he untangled himself from you, and turned around, kneeling down to pick up the unconscious man.

“Your room is close. Leave. Have a bath. I have seen many dead men, he will be fine.”

You try to protest, adamant to go to the infirmary as well, to ensure that Jayse is treated, but the Prince quickly silences you with a harsh stare. He looked like he was about to drop the injured man, and the prospect terrified you.

In a low, warning tone, the Prince spoke.

“You promised.”

Feeling defeated, you turned and hastily leave. Before turning the corner, you glance back, and see the one-eyed Prince still watching you. All you could do now, was to trust him and hope he is being truthful. You turn, and head to your chambers, preparing yourself for a long, sleepless night.

I felt feral today and chose to neglect my responsibilities in order to draft this chapter. Hope you enjoyed! I make no promises about when the next chapter will be written, although it may be done before the season finale releases ;)

In case you also want to listen to the songs I had on repeat for the entire day today, here is my playlist for the fic! I have also posted this on AO3, incase you prefer that platform

– Chapter 3

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond image #aemond targeryen imagine #imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemondtargaryen!thots #aemon targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x oc

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sugarbarbie-ocs · 18 days

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𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐈𝐀𝐅 𝐎𝐂 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ༘⋆

✧ Love interest(s): Aegon I Targaryen + Rhaenys Targaryen + Visenya Targaryen + in some aus Orys Baratheon

✧ Love interest(s): Maegor Targaryen + Rhaena Targaryen

✧ Love interest(s): Daemon Targaryen + Rhaenyra Targaryen

✧ Love interest(s): Aegon II Targaryen + Aemond Targaryen + Cregan Stark

✧ Love interest(s): Aemon "The Dragonknight" Targaryen + in some aus Naerys Targaryen

✧ Love interest(s): Daemon Blackfyre + Aegor Rivers

✧ Love interest(s): Valarr Targaryen + Aerion Targaryen

✧ Love interest(s): Duncan the Tall

with the new season approaching plus the duncan and egg franchise I've finally decided to make a full asoiaf oc list! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any future stuff 🥰

do excuse the bad blending I'm still learning <333

taglist: @noeverse

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chic-beyond-the-wall · 6 months

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What Princess Daeny Targaryen would wear

October 25th

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sarcasticsweetlara · 3 months

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Velaryon Family Tree

Family Tree made up by me

I chose to re-make this work

...

Velaela Velaryon I the Bold had been a Seahorse Dreamer who had embarked in many adventures during her lifetime, in which she had found many riches and took them back home.

Velaela was said to have been a sorcerer and to also have spoken with the Merling King who according to tales communicated with Velaela through dreams.

Velaela the Bold taught all her children from her four marriages how to sail and the basics of many spells. From her is that the current line of the Velaryons descend.

Velaela the Bold's descendant: Velaela Velaryon II the Settler would honor her foremother's legacy by moving out of Valyria to other parts of the world, some of her siblings went to Valyrian colonies like Lys and Volantis whereas Velaela II sailed to Westeros.

In Westeros Velaela helped her kin settle in the island of Driftmark by negotiating with the smallfolk and it is said the Merling King gave her the Driftmark to protect and keep for her family.

Hundreds of years later her descendant Velaenys Velaryon would set sail to to visit her Velaryon relatives in Lys and Volantis and when she came back she brought many riches and proved she had inherited the magic gifts of her ancestor Velaela the Bold.

Velaenys would eventually become the ruling Lady of Driftmark, she wed twice and from her first marriage her daughter Velaenya was born and years later in her second marriage Velaenys had a boy named Aerion.

Velaenys declared Velaenya as her heir and trained her in the arts of sorcery and bards still sing about how Velaenya's wit and beauty made her even richer than her mother.

Velaenya was the mother of Khaella Velaryon who in turn was the mother of Vaellon Velaryon; Vaellon wed the oldest daughter of Maegon Targaryen -who had abdicated his inheritance of Dragonstone to live in tranquility to his brother Aerys- Aemollie Targaryen and they had Daemon Velaryon.

Aerion sired Rhaenor Velaryon who in turn wed Aellodie Velaryon, the youngest daughter of Maegon Targaryen who had had her in his old days. Rhaenor and Aellodie's daughter Valaena wed the heir to Dragonstone lord Aerion Targaryen becoming the parents of the Conquerors.

Daemon had had children with another woman before his marriage to Aemelle - daughter of the Targaryen explorer lady Aemyn with the lord Saeron Targaryen, cousins of Lord Aerion Targaryen - and together they had three sons: Aethan, Aellar and Corlys.

Daemon and Aemelle would later have four sets of twins in their old days; two of them went to live in Lys and Volantis, and the other two in Isle of Tarth and Estermont, all of them wedding Velaryons of old with whom they exerted power.

Aethan Velaryon, the eldest son of Daemon Velaryon, wed lady Alarra Massey the daughter of Lord Massey and Lady Anya Targaryen, who was the daughter of Lord Baelon Targaryen -after his brother Aelyx died without trueborn heirs- who did not have trueborn sons and therefore Dragonstone went to his brother Daemion, Aerion Targaryen's father.

Aethan and Alarra Massey had seven children; four boys and three girls which included Lady Alyssa Velaryon who would eventually become queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Daemon Velaryon the Lord Admiral of both Maegor the Cruel and Jaehaerys Targaryen.

Aellar's granddaughter Larissa Velaryon was a lady in waiting to her second cousin Princess Rhaena and her daughter Valeria Velaryon made an edict in which she decreed she would pass her last name to her future descendants.

And Corlys became one of the first members of the Kingsguard of King Aegon I Targaryen.

After Alyssa Velaryon was able to make her son Jaehaerys king after the war against Maegor Targaryen and avenge the deaths of her first two sons Aegon and Viserys and the hostage taking of her daughter Rhaena Targaryen and granddaughters Aerea and Rhaella, Alyssa wed Rogar Baratheon with whom she had Boremund and Jocelyn Baratheon.

Another brother of Alyssa wed a lady of House Wylde for the sake of alliances and their daughter Lucilla wed Lord Boremund Baratheon. Boremund's uncle Ronnal wed lady Aenna Velaryon one of the grandchildren of the deceased Lord Daemon Velaryon through one of his sets of twins.

Daemon, the son of Aethan and Alarra, wed his cousin Lady Viserra Velaryon and together they had Corwyn, Jorgen, Victor and four daughters.

Corwyn and his wife Coraella Velaryon had Vaellor, Corlys, Anyssa, Ellenia and Aeijion Velaryon.

Ellenia married Louis Velaryon, a Velaryon located in a fortress of Volantis, (it was rumored she slept with his sister Willow too) and had two daughters and three sons by him.

Anyssa married a Velaryon trader called Sung-Moo Jeon whose parents lived in Storm's End, she got to travel the world alongside Sung-Moo and they had two daughters and five sons and after his death due to a fever she wore black symbolizing her grief which she endured until her death.

After five years of being a widow she married her cousin Aemion and they had two sons.

Aeijion had a tranquil life with his wife Vaenice Velaryon and they had five sons.

Even though Vaellor had been born before Corlys he had died and his oldest son with his wife Kean Velaryon, Vaemond, had shown an ambition greater than his common sense and wit, after a council in which they deemed Corlys better suited for the Driftwood throne Corlys Velaryon son of Corwyn Velaryon was made Lord of Driftmark.

Vaemond -who had wed a Velaryon cousin- and his oldest son Daemion Velaryon always tried to get Driftmark but Vaemond had been executed after declaring the three sons Rhaenyra Targaryen had birthed during her marriage to Lord Laenor who all had chestnut brown hair and light brown eyes (and many whispered had been fathered by Ser Harwin Strong) were bastards.

After the Red Spring, in which Lord Corlys' children with his wife The Princess Rhaenys The Queen Who Never Was, Laena and Laenor Velaryon died, and Laenor's supposed sons Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey Velaryon died in the Dance of the Dragons, Driftmark went to Laenor's bastard son Addam Waters (though many think his brother Alyn and him were actually Corlys' bastard sons with Marilda of Hull) who had been legitimized by Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and after his death his brother Alyn became the heir to Driftmark and ruled it after Lord Corlys died.

After an attack of the Silent Five a group formed of the deceased Vaemond Velaryon's cousins, the sons of Lord Aeijion Velaryon, Alyn wed Princess Baela Targaryen, one of the twin daughters of Lady Laena Velaryon and Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Alyn and Baela's ward and cousin Daenaera Velaryon was the granddaughter of Vaemond Velaryon through his second and youngest son Lord Daeron Velaryon with Lady Hazel Harte.

After being presented in the Maiden Ball Daenaera wed King Aegon III Targaryen who was the paternal half-brother of Princess Baela.

Baela and Alyn had two trueborn children: Laena, and Corlys who was the youngest of their children together, both their children had a legacy of greatness.

*Alyn also had an affair with Princess Elaena the daughter of Aegon III and Daenaera during the last days of life of Princess Baela Targaryen when she was sick and continued it after her death, however Alyn got lost in the sea during the second half of the year 172 AC and Princess Elaena who had borne him bastard twins in 173 AC had to accept in 175 AC that Alyn would not come back.

Alyn's bastards with Princess Elaena, Jon and Jeyne had been taken care of by their second cousin Prince Daeron and Princess Myriah Martell and both Jon and Jeyne wed into House Waxley and House Borrell from the Vale, Jon's trueborn son in the end gave a new last name to himself, his children and future descendants: Longwaters.

Elaena's sister Princess Rhaena who had become a septa took it upon herself between 173-174 AC to regain the trust of House Velaryon by being by their side building fortresses and buildings and paying them the weight of her bastard nephew and niece in gold and Princess Elaena later sent her son Viserys Plumm to be a squire for the Velaryons during some years before leaving to squire for House Serrett.*

Baela and Alyn's first son Corlys Velaryon wed Velaela Velaryon who was a descendant of Ellenia Velaryon. The current rulers of Driftmark descend from Corlys Velaryon, the son of Baela Targaryen and Alyn Velaryon.

Viseron, Corlys' son had married Haellia Velaryon who was a descendant of Valeria Velaryon and exerted a great influence in the Stormlands, they made peace with all the other branches of House Velaryon.

Baela and Alyn's firstborn child and firstborn daughter as well was Laena who had learnt how to glide through the air alongside her mother, and she helped many children in the whole realm, as well as fund the education of many with her cousin Rhaena the Septa. Laena had wed a Velaryon lord son who was the son of Daemion Velaryon.

Corlys' sons and Laena's sons were wed to distant Velaryon cousins and to Princess Rhaena's grandchildren.

Corlys' granddaughter Viseriya had been wed to Lord Caron as an arrangement made by Daeron II when Dorne joined the Seven Kingdoms.

A Velaryon lord had also been considered as a betrothed for Princess Aelora Targaryen before she died.

When the Prince Duncan Targaryen spurned his Baratheon bride the lady Elenei Baratheon, King Aegon V wed the lady to the young Lord Alexar Velaryon, and when Prince Jaehaerys did the same with lady Celia Tully, King Aegon V wed her to the lord Aexor Velaryon who had made a fortune for himself and his branch of the Velaryons family and in the end they were able to enrich themselves.

Many generations have passed and today House Velaryon still have the position of Lord of the Tides and their dominion of Driftmark and High Tide, being a proud and resilient House.

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gromlyn · 29 days

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Asoiaf AU - Prince Aemon Targaryen and his children, Princess Elissa and Aerin Storm. Slowly but surely drawing my favorite ocs from this timeline

#they deserve an award for most functional targ family #elissas mom was a tully and aerins mom was a baratheon #while I was coloring her dress ben came over and was like oh excellent irl nobles would’ve worn the brightest of colors #which don’t get me started on how the costumes on got/hotd aren’t nearly colorful enough #at least I can fix that in my au <3 #asoiaf au #my ocs #asoiaf oc #aerin storm #elissa targaryen #aemon targaryen (oc)#house targaryen #artists on tumblr #my art #got oc #hotd oc #digital art #illustration #procreate

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alyshiba · 1 year

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Lilagon hen zaldrizoti

Part Eleven: Breakfasts

Read on Ao3

Summary: AU where Visenya, Rhaenyra's only daughter lives and is born as her eldest child. To all of Westeros she is seen as the only trueborn child of Ser Leanor and Rhaenyra, but in truth her father happens to be Deamon.

Author's note: Hi all, I know this chapter is short, and not re-read, so you might find some typos (in chase, if you wish to, feel free to point them out so I can correct them faster).

For Aemond's POV I used as reference this AMAZING character study made by @museumofmythoughts here on tumblr, as I red it I personally found it to be very, very accurate. And honestly it was in complete sync with who I think Aemond is as a person.

Anyhow... other than this fantastic post, inspiration has kind of failed me lately, mostly becouse looking back at the beginning of this fic, I think I rushed too many events, and there are a lot of decision I onestly regret in the very first chapters. So I am starting to consider revriting them, but I really would like your opinion, since it could potentially involve changing some thing. In chase you find time to give me feedback in this, please, do not hold back if you find some things to be shitty, I really value your opinions. As always I'll link the two maps I use as references, so you can follow the path of our favourite war criminals: Tthis map of Westeros from AWOIAF and this isochronic map of Westeros.

Warning: mention of trauma, mention of violence.

Aemond woke when the sun was up in the sky. He quickly rolled over on his back, and, thank the gods, the pain that had taken over the ruined side of his face had faded, as if it’s never been there in the first place.

He fixed his gaze on the ceiling of his room, it was painted white, or plastered, he couldn’t tell, but the stone’s texture underneath was still visible, no matter how many coats the stonemasons had covered it with.

He groaned and sat up. His clothes were neatly folded and placed on the wooden settle at the foot of the bed, and he could spot several dishes, his breakfast or lunch, served on the table on the other side of the room.

A sense of annoyance unrolled in his stomach, he was a prince of the realm, how could the guards simply let anyone inside his rooms while he slept? With a war raging and Oldtown at its center?

In the weeks that he had spent in his mother’s ancestral home, Aemond had noticed how everything was unfit to represent the dowager Queen. Guards were slow and lazy, the watch shifts always covered the same patterns, at the same hours, and the same guards tended to them. And they spent almost the entire shift gossiping and drinking.

And no matter how many times he pointed out their inadequate safety measure, all that Ormund responded with was how impregnable the tower was, how anyone has ever taken it, how no one was foolish enough to attack the center of the faith.

Every time he begged to disagree, to say that a host of northerners was on his way, and that if they successfully repelled them, a dragon would soon follow. The same dragon that melted down Storm’s End.

And every time the words died in his throat.

Aemond lazily stood, covered his body with a green silken robe and decided to break his fast.

He began to study his food: rye bread was served on a plate, already sliced, close to it where little bowls that contain butter, honey and a red-fruit preserve, a couple of soft boiled eggs were placed on another plate, already peeled out of their shells, and a wedge of cheese sat close to them.

Aemond let out a breath, grabbed the bread and buttered it. He then dipped the tip of his knife in the preserve, and licked it. Blackberry, he thought with a disgusted expression. Honey it would be then.

While consuming his honeyed bread he began, again, to weigh out his position and options: honor imposed him to protect his lady mother, his sister -and Queen, as long as Aegon called himself King- and her children. To support his brother’s birthright as their father’s first born son.

Yet he now had a wife, he was duty bound to protect her, as she was to obey him.

The thought made him chuckle.

After Lucerys’ death there was not a single way to uphold all of those duties.

Aegon wouldn’t let Visenya live, not after she had Sunfire dismembered by Balerion, if he was to take back the throne. And Aegon would be dead, should their half sister succeed in winning this war.

Yet Rhaenyra had shown affection to Helaena, even after her son’s death. Sweet Helaena that hated to be touched, or to stand too close with anyone, even their mother.

The time for pondering his decisions was slowly coming to an end.

Aemond grabbed the eggs, cut them in half and scooped the yolk out, discarding the slimy egg white. Spread the yolks on another slice of bread, dry he thought, and finish it off with a slice of cheese.

Visenya had swore that his family would be safe, save for Aegon, clearly. So did Rhaenyra, in front of the whole of King’s Landing on the day of her coronation, with the gods as witnesses .

And as much as he resented his sister, he thought as his hand grazed his naked wound, she had kept her word even after Lucerys’ murder.

Gripping the table with his free hand he realized that, once again, he was but a helpless pawn in yet another one of his half sister, and brother’s, political headaches.

He closed his eye, breathing down to calm his nerves, to be able to keep that facade of calmness his mother had taught him to wear at all times.

Yet as soon as he closed his remaining eye, his mind showed him a very clear image: himself, wearing Aegon’s crown, on the Iron Throne.

Aemond immediately opened his eye, pushing his body, and the chair he still sat on, far from the table. He steadied his breath and looked at his palms, as if the table had spontaneously caught fire and burned him. He clenched his fists, allowing his nails to dig in.

When was the last time he had desired anything for himself? Vhagar, was the answer. The only time Aemond did something purely for himself, was when he claimed Vhagar. And lost his eye because of it.

<;< The Gods have yet to make a man who lacks the patience for absolute power >> His grandfather had once said, about Daemon -or Rhaenyra-, he didn’t remember. Was it true about him too? Probably. Likely. To say that he never before imagined himself on the Iron Throne would be a lie, the gods themselves knew that he was far better fit for it than his brother ever would. And now he had a clear path for it.

—

The moaning air in the Dornish marches was completely different from the one of Dragonstone, nothing, in truth, compared to Dragonstone. But it was so immensely better than the stench of King’s Landing.

There were, in fact, few things worse than the capital’s stench.

The air was dry and dusty, an indication of the deserts that laid just beyond the mountain range that separated Dorne from the rest of the kingdoms. And the temperature was growing increasingly warmer as they were proceeding south west.

Another raven came, few days ago from Honeyholt. From Cregan Stark this time, signaling that they reached the allied young Lord Beesbury, whose name Visenya didn’t remember, safe and unnoticed.

So she had begun her own journey west, traveling upon Balerion at night, and paying attention to fly only on the inhabited marches, to avoid detection. It was the only way she could possibly sneak her winged behemoth halfway across Westeros.

No more words, or messages, came from Aemond. Whether he decided to turn on her or not, she would find out once they all got to Oldtown.

She hoped that she was not sending Lord Stark to his death.

There was a weak nock on the wooden doors of her chambers, or rather Ser Edric’s, and a maid entered to serve her breakfast. She was a nice girl, not far from her age, blonde and with pale blue eyes.

She simply left the plates on a table and quickly left, not sparing the princess a second sight.

Visenya reached the castle sometimes in the hour of ghosts, and spent the remainder of last night at Starfall, per Ser Edric’s suggestion, in the safety of his old bedchambers. It was the closest, safest spot she could hide waiting, the knight wrote, and the only one he truly trusted, was what he didn’t need to write. She hated being ordered around, but this time, there wasn’t really any better option.

The princess immediately eyed the lemon cakes, the freshly squeezed orange juice, and what looked like flatbread with a yellowy-paste and olives, as well as stuffed green peppers with cheese and onion and a bottle of golden dornish wine.

She quickly consumed the food, a blessing compared to the hard bread with old cheeses she had been fed at the camp in the Stormlands. Visenya knew, from experience and her father’s jokes, that food during wars was nothing more than a tool to keep bodies functioning. But this glimpse of normality was a blessing for her stomach and her mood.

There was a knock at the door. Louder this time.

A man came through the wooden doors, he wasn’t much taller than Visenya, and lean in built, in stark contrast to Edric’s tall and broad frame. Yet he shared the pale blond hair and indigo eyes her Queensguard bore. A Dayne, Visenya concluded, likely the lord of the castle, from the posture and way he handled himself.

<;< My brother sent a raven, informing us of your arrival, princess >> His voice was low and soft like velvet, his words precise and calculated, a politician rather than a warrior, she judged. << I must thank you for your hospitality, my Lord >> She quietly responded, inviting the man to sit at the table, his brother’s table, << and for not poisoning me >> she chuckled, trying to ease the mood, the young Lord shared her laugh.

<;< Lord Gerold Dayne, at your service >> Visenya took her time to study the man now sitting in front of her, he was clearly older than she was, but she couldn’t determine by how much. << My presence will not burden you for much, my Lord, hopefully I shall be on my way before the week ends >> She mewled, nibbling at the food in front of her. She could get used to dornish foods, Visenya decided, and to their weather, should the need ever rise, the princess decided, she could settle for a new dornish husband. << To wherever you sent my brother to fight >> There it was, the reason behind this visit.

He obviously wanted to know why she was here, far from where she was supposed to be, to where everyone else in the continent thought she actually was, and to ensure his brother’s wellbeing. With that sentiment she could resonate, yet, the less people knew her reasons the better. And prior to this encounter, Visenya never met Lord Gerold, she could know whether he was someone she could trust.

<;< Ser Edric remains safe behind high stone walls >> Visenya said, not a lie but not the entire truth either, << Is it your missing husband or your kinslayer uncle you seek in the Reach, then? >> a smart man, she could give him that, she smiled, << both, in fact >> she sipped at the sweet orange juice, gods she loved it. << It would be quite difficult to locate Aegon, now that he is dragonless. Yet Vhagar is not a difficult beast to spot >> Visenya learned a long time ago that the best lies are the ones that contain a little truth. And there was no harm in letting Lord Dayne know that she wished to reconcile with her estranged husband. Which was neither truly estranged or lost. Or at least that was what she hoped. << Yet, I assume that finding one will eventually lead me to the other >> Another half truth.

There had been no rumors on Aegon’s whereabouts, as she expected. He now had no dragon to defend whatever keep or army he had secured, no true advantage on the field. So his best shot was surprise. <;< My people have been at peace for almost half a century now >> He began, ever since the last dornish was, which her great-grandfathers won without losing one single man, she proudly recalled. It was a story she heard countless times, both from her father and from the late king, << we have no wish for war >> she truly understood that. Yet they had been left with no choice.

<;< Were it my choice, Lord Gerold, I would be spending my days between Dragonstone and the Capital, with a husband by my side >> Visenya let out with a hint of annoyance in her voice, while trying the green peppers, << yet my uncle chose to spit on my mother’s mercy, murdered my brother in cold blood, his own kin >> her voice was now raising as her anger, and the pepper’s spiciness, were inflaming her blood and mouth, << raised an army and rebelled against his rightful Queen >> Visenya took a big breath, calming her nerves, sipped at the dornish gold, and locked her stare in the man’s << pray tell me: what should I do? >>

<;< Be a dragon >> Gerold responded, spelling out every word. Visenya smirked, << the andals in the realm >> he began, he was of andal ancestry himself, most definitely. Yet the dornish had always been adamant in calling themselves Rhonysh, when they look like it, or dornish, when they couldn’t claim a pure rhoynar background, << will raise behind Aegon when he shows up again. They will praise him like a hero from a novel, “the man who fought the dragons with his bare hands” >> Gerold was emphasizing his words with the wide movements of his hands, and Visenya was listening carefully, the truth in his words was painful and obvious. How many allies will they lose when Aegon makes his final entrance in this wicked game?

<;< And if he is squished before he has time to raise, others will follow >> he took one of the stuffed peppers himself, clearly he was much more used to dornish’s spicy food than she was. Yet the princess persevered, stubborn, and swallowed another fiery bite, << because no Queen has ever sat a throne north of Dorne >> this last statement stung, like a sharp knife dug in her guts. Will she truly have to spend the entirety of her life fighting? Wearing chainmail under her clothes like her namesake did, during the reign of the conqueror?

<;< Dorne knows better, of course >> Gerold poured himself a goblet of wine, as Visenya began to wonder what, exactly he was to gain from this conversation, << yet if I recall correctly, the last Targaryen who came here was your namesake. And Starfall still bears the marks of her visit >> indeed the palestone sword tower, where she was currently residing, bears a very distinct mark, like a scar in the flesh of a beautiful maid, where Vhagar unleashed her fires. Her husband’s mount had been much younger then, and smaller in size, yet her fierceness had been unmatched even then, << I assure you >> said Gerold, staring right into her eyes, << no one dared cross her since >> burn everything to ground, that was what the Lord of Starfall was implying. A very different mindset then his brother, who even after Luke’s death, and Sunfire’s slaughter begged to show mercy. She liked this brother better.

<;< Whoever dares oppose the dragon >> She said, keeping her tone flat and her emotions in check, << will burn, just like Storm’s End >> the sweet and fresh orange juice was a blessing for her flaming throat. Too many peppers in one go, or maybe her anger was finally turning her into a dragon, ready to breathe fire.

Gerold nodded, pondering his next words carefully. He seemed to understand and read her emotions well, so he now chose wisely words that would infuriate her, <;< good, the realm needs to fear you, or the men will never bow >> Visenya’s lips became a thigh line. She hoped that she would need not to burn everything to the ground to prove her point.

<;< Oldtown is a wise move >> He said as she straightened, did Edric reveal her plan? Was he so foolish to send a raven with those details, while being so close to the target? << but I do not think you will find Aegon there. It is too obvious >> He seemed to, again, understand her anger, << worry not >> he said, << my brother did not reveal anything in his brief message. But there is no other explanation for your visit. Considering that Vhagar has been spotted in Oldtown >>

—

Aemond looked around, as if someone might have witnessed his uncharacteristic outburst. When his mind was back at the present, he slid his chair back where it was, making sure it followed the same exact path it did when he unceremoniously pushed it. When he was back in position he took a lock at the table in front of him, Aemond slowly piled each empty plate in a precise order, took his half eaten slice of bread and quickly finished it. He then proceeded to place the cutlery on that, now empty, plate, set it on top of the others, and cleaned the table from any crumbs.

In the end he left the table cleaner, and more in order, then he had found him before breakfast.

Those simple actions had always helped soothe his mind. His need for cleanliness and order had always taken over his mind whenever he found himself in the middle of chaos, and in the last years, Aemond had thought himself to channel that feeling when he needed to calm or distract himself. In moments just like the one he passed.

Honor prevented him from picking a side. That was clear to him.

He couldn’t fight either side and leave with his honor intact. Yet deep down, he knew that if he asked his mother, her wise counsel would be to avoid bloodshed, peace, to protect Helaena and Aegon and Daeron. To be the patriarch of their branch of the house since those who should cover that role selfishly chose to shy away from it.

Aemond could clearly hear her desperate voice the night Viserys died: the king never wished for the death of his daughter she shouted at the council, Rhaenyra must understand , she had told him, her hands shaking, her eyes filled with tears, exile, that would do . He had a hundred questions then, of them he only ever voiced one: Do you truly think Aegon is fit for the throne? And despite what they both knew about him, what her mother had alway felt the need to tell him, to vent about, he couldn’t prevent the anger that filled him when she simply nodded, immediately turning silent, eyes fixed on an imprecise spot behind him. She too, at last, had favored Aegon over him. Over the son that had dutifully only ever upheld those values Alicent had always imposed on him: honor, family, the law.

One question creeped its way through the high walls of mind: is Aegon’s claim truly lawful, when all of the lords of the realm had swore an oath to Rhaenyra?

Taglist: @hawsx3, @readsalot73 @tempt-ress @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @arignipanja574 @scaraxmouche @softyelfdragon @avidreader73 @whore-of-many-hot-men @heavenly1927 If you wish to be added to the taglist, and notified as soon as I post any update, please comment!

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toilandtroubled · 1 year

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— 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞.

𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞.

credit to @samwilsonns for the text style and also blame to @samwilsonns for enabling this idea.

#game of thrones #got oc #ocappreciation #original character #a song of ice and fire #my oc shit #gifset #gif edit #aemon targaryen #ficlet

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thattargboy · 1 year

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Monmon is technically a valid Valyrian name

#monterys and monford velaryon #daemon aemon etc.#so. monmon #you’ve heard of moon moon now get ready for…#asoiaf shitpost #house velaryon #house targaryen #valyrian #hotd shitpost #i made this discovery while trying to name an oc #dragon screeching

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yummycastiel · 1 year

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''the dreamer'' part 9- aemond targaryen x ofc

summary: Jace and Daenys have a talk, and Daenys comes to a realization about her feelings for Aemond.

read series masterlist HERE or read on A03

story summary: Daenys Velaryon, the brown-haired second child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, travels to King’s Landing with her family to visit the King, her grandfather, and to witness Jacaerys’ and Baela’s wedding. As tensions between house Targaryen rise, Daenys and Aemond cross paths once again, and the prince discovers an annoying attraction to the Velaryon girl.

~~~

Daenys.

Daenys knew Jace was behind her, practically chasing after her but she continued, intent on avoiding her brother.

‘’Daenys!’’ Jace shouted at her as he stormed after her. She ignored him, wrapping her arms around herself as she ran to anywhere that would help her lose him. ‘’Daenys, stop! Seven hells, listen to me!’’ The rage in Jace’s voice made Daenys come screeching to a halt. He had followed her to the courtyard where the great heart tree was, where Daenys loved to come on sunny days with Aemond. She stood there, looking at the tree and not Jace, who she knew was behind her.

‘’Did you see what happened back there?’’ Jace began in a low voice, circling around her to look Daenys in the face. Daenys avoided his eyes, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.

‘’I was there, was I not?’’ She retorted, dryly.

‘’You heard what Aegon said?’’ Jace asked, his interrogating seemingly ceaseless. Now Daenys rolled her eyes, growing impatient.

‘’When he called me a whore like our mother? Yes, I do believe I was there for that as well.’’

‘’How could you let this happen?’’ Jace implored after a slight pause, his dark eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Daenys’ eyes flared and she looked up at her older brother.

‘’How could I let this happen? That wasn’t my fault Jace!’’ She hissed, crossing her arms.

‘’You may not have commanded Aegon to do what he did, or told Aemond to give him a beating, but you should have known nothing good would come of you getting close to our uncle.’’ Jace snapped.

‘’You’re still saying that it was my fault, brother.’’ Daenys spat, face beginning to flush with anger.

‘’Look what has resulted from it! I have minded my tongue about you and Aemond, but that was my mistake. You should have known something like this might happen, you should have known the consequences. Have you learnt nothing from our mother’s mistake?’’ Jace cried, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

‘’Mistake? Jace-‘’ Daenys started but her brother cut her off before she could continue.

‘’You put yourself into a position of vulnerability with this friendship Daenys, are you too stupid to not see it? What Aegon said, what he insinuated, puts us all in danger.’’

‘’No one will heed Aegon’s insult Jace. He is a drunk and everyone knows it. Besides, I am not married, neither is Aemond, this is hardly like what happened to our mother.’’ Daenys pointed out. ‘’There is no adultery, no treason. Merely the baseless insults from a low-life prince.’’

‘’It does not matter what the truth is Daenys, what matters is what people see, and what they saw was Aegon call you a whore and Aemond rush to defend your honor. Word travels fast here sister, do you have any idea the trouble these rumors can cause for us? For you? You could be ruined.’’ Jace explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Daenys groaned, but she knew Jace was right.

‘’Aemond did no such thing, for all we know he was insulted by the insinuation that he and I were anything more than mere friends.’’ Daenys replied, in denial. Jace pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed and frustrated.

‘’You know what Aemond was thinking, do you not Daenys? You more than anyone knows what goes on inside our uncle’s head.’’ Daenys arched an eyebrow.

‘’What is that supposed to mean?’’ She questioned, a sinking feeling developing in her stomach.

‘’You and Aemond are close, much too close.’’

‘’So, what if we are? We are friends, nothing more. What is the harm in it?’’ Daenys protested. She had half a mind to walk away but she knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer. She regretted the question as soon as she asked because Jace snorted with a humorless laugh.

‘’Aemond is with them, Daenys, under Queen Alicent’s thumb. You think he cares for you? He is only using you, no doubt a part of the Queen’s schemes. Yet you continuously decide to ignore the fact that our families will never fix what is broken, and you continuously decide to put us at risk.’’ If Daenys felt any other way towards Aemond she would agree with Jace. It made perfect sense. Aemond really could be using her, and she really could be risking their safety and their mother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Never trust anyone. Daemon had told her so more times than she could count. Yet she trusted Aemond Targaryen. Daenys said nothing in response to Jace, just glared at him. Her brother paced around, his upset attitude not going away, after a couple moments, he put both his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes, searching for a response.

‘’Do you love him?’’ He finally whispered desperately; the words so quiet she barely heard them even though he was standing right in front of her. Daenys stared at him, biting down on her lip hard as she felt tears prickling in her eyes. She had not had the courage to ask herself that same question, and when Jace shook her hard she turned her eyes to the ground, words failing her. Her silence was answer enough for her brother, and he straightened up, running a hand down his troubled face. ‘’Seven hells Daenys.’’ He muttered.

Did she love Aemond? She had never known love before. Is this what it felt like? Did it feel like flying? Did it feel like every time she touched him every nerve caught fire under her skin? Did it feel like every look, every glance in his direction sent her heart pounding with delicious adrenaline? Out of the mess of emotions Daenys felt she could only be sure that being near Aemond made her feel like she was home.

The sound of footsteps startled the two siblings, both of whom whipped around to see Aemond arrive in the courtyard. He was out of breath as he stood there, watching them with a wide violet eye, chest heaving. Aemond’s silver-blonde hair was a mess, Aegon’s blood still painted on his cheek. Daenys met his eye, drawn to it as she always was, and when she did her mind went blank.

Oh.

‘’Daenys?’’ Aemond’s hoarse voice came. He sounded concerned, worried for her for some reason.

She loved him.

Aemond.

He had hoped that he would find Daenys alone. His heart sunk when he saw Jacaerys with her, arms on her shoulder, looking frustrated. After his bout with Aegon, Aemond had resisted the urge to go running after the princess immediately, but he stalked off aimlessly in the other direction, trying to avoid the summons his mother would doubtless send upon seeing what he had done to her oldest son. After a few minutes, Aemond couldn’t take it anymore, and he rushed to find Daenys, stomach doing flips as he searched. When he finally found her, along with her brother, he wanted to rush forward and push his nephew away from her, as it was obvious from the sounds of his yells that he was angry with her.

‘’Daenys?’’ He called out, trying to get both their attentions. Daenys whipped around, her eyes glassy, hands clasped and at her chest. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of them, something passing over her gaze, as if she had just come up with some new idea.

‘’Aemond-‘’ Daenys started, but she stood in place, unmoving. Jace’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the prince, burning with dislike, and he stepped between him and Daenys, trying to block her from view. Aemond’s lip curled, the familiar rage from earlier flickering to life within him.

‘’Leave us, Aemond.’’ Jace said in a low voice, ‘’This is between me and my sister, nothing to do with you’’ Aemond arched an eyebrow at his nephew’s gall.

‘’I think it has everything to do with me.’’ Aemond retorted.

‘’Leave us.’’ Jace repeated, ignoring his truth, and beginning to turn his back on him. Aemond leaned to the side to see Daenys, who did the same so she could see him. Her eyes were red, tears beginning to well up and the silver prince’s heart softened, it always softened for her.

‘’I wished to see if Princess Daenys was alright, if there was anything I could do.’’ He replied, voice matching Jace’s tone.

‘’You’ve done enough.’’ Was all Jace said, clearly wanting to end the conversation. Aemond’s hand curled into a fist. Daenys however, took matters into her own hands and shouldered past her brother to meet him, not before Jace reached out to grab her wrist.

‘’Daenys!’’ The boy hissed, ‘’What are you doing?’’ Daenys wrenched herself out of his grip.

‘’I’m going to talk to Aemond, brother.’’ She returned through gritted teeth, ignoring his warning look, and she turned and rushed towards the prince. She brushed past him, taking him by the hand and leading him away. Aemond looked back at Jacaerys before he was pulled away, unable to resist giving Daenys’ older brother the ghost of a victorious smirk. He returned his attention to his little niece, who had led him to an empty corridor of the Keep. Her hand in his felt warm, smooth, and small. He hummed in satisfaction at how perfect Daenys’ hand felt in his own. He returned his distracted gaze to the brown-haired princess in front of him, who took her hand from his, much to his regret.

‘’What happened back there, Aemond?’’ Daenys asked him in a low voice, looking up at him and leaning forward so he could hear her. Aemond blinked, knowing what she was talking about, but wishing that it would somehow be forgotten. He shifted in place but kept his eye on her for a moment before he spoke.

‘’Aegon called you a whore.’’ Aemond replied softly, the truth an automatic response to any question that Daenys would ask of him. Daenys’ pink lips parted; her eyebrows furrowed as she listened to his response.

‘’And because your brother called me a whore you decided to beat him half to death?’’ Daenys clarified, crossing her arms, looking as though she was holding back a small smile.

‘’You are not a whore, princess,’’ He said, ‘’He was also vexing me with all his ridiculous talk.’’ He tried to be nonchalant, to hide the rage that had burned through his veins when Aegon had insinuated that Daenys was a whore. He remembered how he had seen red, Aegon, his own brother, disappearing to his eye and transforming into something he had to punch. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until Aegon was on the ground, writhing in pain, and Aemond’s hands were splattered with blood that they both shared. Slowly, Aemond realized the extent to what he had done, and he was terrified. Terrified of how it was only Daenys’ voice that was able to bring him out of his anger, terrified of what he was capable of to defend his niece, his bastard-born niece at that. Daenys was more dangerous than Aemond thought.

‘’You realize that now that the whole court will be gossiping about you and me, right? They will spread the rumor that you defended my honor against Aegon.’’ Daenys scolded. Aemond felt his mind swim, drunk on the closeness of her, on her smell. He leaned into Daenys, dangerously close, brown strands of hair taunting him to reach out and touch them.

‘’So, what if I did?’’ Aemond questioned, ‘’I was not going to let him get away with that, sweet girl.’’ The boldness of his statement, the sweet girl, came tumbling out of his mouth, but Aemond did not care anymore. Daenys flushed, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

‘’You did not have to do that.’’ She whispered, still avoiding his gaze. ‘’It will only cause more trouble between our families.’’

‘’Is that what Jacaerys told you?’’ Aemond retorted, ‘’What lies has he been whispering in your ear?’’

‘’They are not necessarily lies Aemond,’’ Protested Daenys, ‘’He is merely looking out for me, letting me know that these rumors you have caused can put me and my family in a vulnerable situation.’’

‘’I would not let you find yourself in a vulnerable situation.’’ Aemond said stiffly, insulted at the notion that he would.

‘’Jace told me that you could be manipulating me, using me at orders of the Queen.’’ Aemond felt hurt at this accusation. He stared at her, wide-eyed and wounded.

‘’You honestly believe that Daenys?’’ The notion that Daenys could look at him with any suspicion made his heart hurt, and Aemond realized he would do anything it took for the girl to trust him as he somehow trusted her.

‘’No…’’ She managed after a moment, ‘’I don’t believe that. I trust you.’’

‘’I have already told you; I know not of any designs or conspiracies my mother may be concocting.’’ Aemond reiterated, desperate for Daenys to believe him.

‘’I believe you, Aemond, please-‘’ Daenys assured, raising her hands in defense, but Aemond cut her off.

‘’What I did to Aegon, I did it for you.’’ He confessed after taking a steady breath, ‘’I realize that the insinuation that Aegon created, the one I created, puts your honor as a lady on the line, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to make sure that your virtue is not questioned.’’ Aemond felt as shocked as Daenys looked when he finished. He wanted to shrink away, turn tail and flee, certain of her rejection, but he couldn’t handle it any longer. Every day he spent with Daenys the feelings inside him were building up, bottled up inside him, and he tried his best to keep his composure. Aemond wasn’t an idiot, he knew that the cracks were beginning to show, that he was beginning to be painfully obvious about his affections towards Daenys, but he couldn’t help it. Half the time he couldn’t even be bothered to keep up any charade he knew that he should be.

Daenys looked up at Aemond, brown eyes soft, and she smiled at him slightly. She reached up tentatively to brush her fingers against his blood-splattered cheek. He would do anything for Daenys, Aemond realized, and that was a problem. His hand acted on its own accord and came up to brush his fingers against Daenys’, the slightest touch taking Aemond’s breath away. They were so close, so fucking close. He could lean forward and just…

Daenys darted back, away from him, the space between them increasing, making Aemond clench his fist in frustration.

‘’Thank you Aemond.’’ Daenys murmured, her hands wringing, letting Aemond know how nervous she was. ‘’You know, Jace has been telling me how much of a bad thing it is for us to be…close.’’ Right, close, Aemond thought with some amusement. ‘’Do you think he worries for naught?’’ Aemond sighed, cocking his head to the side as he looked at her.

‘’There is much distrust between our families Daenys,’’ He began, ‘’Your family thinks I am using you for some ulterior motive, and mine feels the same about you, but the important thing is that we are not using each other.’’ He paused to check if his soothing was working. Daenys crossed her arms and huffed. ‘’The only thing to worry about is the absurd comment my brother made, and I will handle it if anything comes up, I promise you that.’’ Daenys nodded, seemingly assured.

‘’I cannot thank you enough.’’ She said, giving him a warm smile. They stood there for a moment in silence, and Aemond was tempted to reach out for the princess again, but his thought was interrupted by Ser Criston Cole. The Kingsguard knight had turned the corner and bowed to him, a pinched look on his face.

‘’My prince,’’ He greeted, ‘’Your mother the Queen requests your audience immediately.’’

‘’I’m busy, Cole, tell my mother I’ll be there when I can.’’ Aemond snapped, giving Alicent’s sworn sword a scathing look. He looked back at Daenys, considering the matter resolved, but Criston did not budge. Daenys gave him an exasperated look, telling him with her eyes to relax. ‘’You’re still here.’’ Aemond groaned, looking back at the Dornishman.

‘’The Queen was quite adamant about seeing you.’’ Criston said shortly, giving Daenys a disapproving look. Aemond opened his mouth to give the knight a sneering insult but Daenys but a hand on his arm, like she had in the training courtyard after he had finished beating his brother up. It was a wonder how calming her touch felt to him, easing him immediately, quelling his temper.

‘’Go Aemond,’’ She whispered, ‘’Don’t stress your mother out more than you already have, hm?’’ Daenys gave him an encouraging smile, and Aemond begrudgingly nodded, moving to follow Criston.

‘’Fine, let’s go.’’ He said finally, and he looked back to give Daenys a little reassuring nod. He followed the knight, who walked swiftly towards his mother’s chambers. Aemond knew she had been informed of what happened, and he was already bracing himself for the anger she would no doubt hurl at him the moment she saw him. Aemond looked back at Daenys as he walked, and saw her staring after him, hands clasped together, looking small and worried in the huge halls of the Red Keep.

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a/n: hope everyone who is still reading is enjoying :) will keep updating even if i only get like 3 notes dw

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