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ethereallocs · 11 months

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Eyes On Me Pt 2.-Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, angst, swearing, degradation, domestic violence and smut.

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

It had been weeks since Ser Criston had, made love to you that night. He found himself longing for you as he stood just outside your door. You weren’t overindulging and knew that this affair couldn’t be something anyone could ever catch onto…ever. You would leave your chambers grazing your fingers past his just slightly so he knew that your affections were still burning for him. Luckily it seemed your husband, Aegon had occupied himself with another mistress and he was often gone and you were glad of it.

You were sitting under the Godswood reading a book. Peeking over the pages every now and then to watch him. His back turned, but even then he could feel your gaze burning into him. He slightly turned his head to see you out the side of his eye and he smiled just enough for you to see before he turned away. Oh Gods. This was torture you thought. In your frustration you got up and quickly walked off. Hurriedly he followed wondering what he did wrong.

Hitting sharp corners almost losing him he grabbed your arm pulling you into a secluded area. Barely any light within this hall as it was never used. Looking into your eyes his hardened gaze softened. “What is the matter, Princess?” You scoffed in disbelief. “How long has it been since the last time you visited me in my chambers, Ser Cole?” You spoke in a hushed yet irritated tone.

He to was frustrated, but he would not risk your life for his own pleasure. “Do you really think I don’t want to be with you, Y/N? I’ve thought of you before that night and I think of you still. But, I cannot let my feelings ruin your life.” The cool touch from his armored hand rubbed you flushed cheek. You nestled into his touch, looking into those golden eyes that pierced through your very soul. Without warning he pressed his lips against yours hungrily as if he could devour you. You moaned into his mouth, pulling him into you.

“I need you always, I want you always. You are all I think about day and night. Your in my dreams. My heart calls your name.” He whispered intensely in your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh. You whimpered quietly trying keep your voice at bay. He hiked up your skirts gripping your plump ass groaning at how it felt in his hand.

He knew you only had just a few moments, but he needed you desperately. He could keep lying to himself trying to preserve his honor and yours. But, such a sun as this was too good to stop. He turned your back to him loosening his breeches and lifting your skirts realizing you had on no undergarments. Grabbing your throat he groaned into your ear. “What a slutty little deviant you are..” You tremble feeling his already hardened cock rubbing against your soaking slit. You pushed into him begging him to fill you and he obliged.

“Fuck…yesss.” He hissed at how good you held him inside you. Your warmth pulling him in. His hand held onto your hip pushing an arch into your lower back as he hurriedly pounded into you. The soft and quick sounds of his hips snapping against your ass filled the dimmed hall along with your delicious moans. He cooed in delight only to cover you mouth and pull you further into the darkness when the sounds of servants chattering caught his attention.

Even still he continued his assault on that soaking wet cunny of yours. You were in pure ecstasy trembling with each thrust. The way his cock stretched your cunt, the way he quieted you with him being the reason you were so vocal only made you want it more. Soon his strokes quickened as he felt his seed ready to spill and you on the edge of your orgasm. “Yes, give it to me, Princess…give it to me.” He beckoned and you unraveled, your cunt drenching his cock and his breeches and in turn he coated your walls with his seed. Today was not a safe day, but you could careless.

He kissed you passionately pulling away to let you fix your clothes back. You sighed knowing this wouldn’t happen for quite sometime again. He smiled letting you walk out first so no one suspected anything and he followed shortly after. You took the rest of the night in your room exhausted from such exertions.

Morning has came and you awoke with a smile, but something in the back of your mind told you to pull back your sheets and there they were clean sheets. You tried not to panic, but you were trying to breath quickly calling for him. He entered your room wondering if you were alright. Clearly seeing the pink faded from your face he pulled you toward him. “My Princess, what is going on?” You looked to him with tears in your eyes. “I haven’t bled. I think I might be with child..”

His eyes frantic trying to think of a solution and just when you were beginning to panic and hushed you with a kiss. “I have a plan..I need to speak with the Queen. I will return to you shortly.” His kiss calmed you and you watched him walk away. You locked yourself away in your room pacing back and forth until you heard a knock on the door. “Come in..” you called out and it was Queen Alicent.

She usually looked so cold, but looking at you now she seemed so warm; motherly. She grabbed your hands and pulled you in. “I’ve heard of what ails you my child. I know of my sons treatment towards you. And I wish you no more harm. I can get the maesters to make you a tea if you wish to stay or I can get the king to send you away and nullify this marriage so you may be free.” You hugged her tears welling in your eyes. You broke down in her arms thinking you would be condemned by her, but she understood.

“Ser Criston, said he would denounce his knighthood. I can get you on a boat to Dorne in a weeks time. The Targaryens have a friends there of course. And a house that will keep you.” You were in shock. “Why are you helping me? Your family despises mine.” She sighed seeing your mothers face in yours. “I should’ve never let your grandsire seal your fate like this. You’ve always been a sweet and honest girl, Y/N. You do not deserve the cruelty my son bestows upon you.”

“I will write my friends in Dorne so they will know to expect me and I will write my mother so she knows where I am.” She nodded to you and kissed your forehead before she took her leave. Shortly after Ser Criston came inside and the two of you worked on your plan. The days had dragged on and the week couldn’t pass by quick enough.

Everything so far had gone smoothly, with Aegon gone and you being one of Viserys’s favorites he ended the marriage without question. Finally, it was your last day in King’s Landing the boat waiting for you with all your things on board. You were giddy and excited, but a dark cloud would find its way to ruin it for you somehow. Night fell and you were dressed and ready to sneak off into the the night when Aegon barged in grabbing your wrists, slapping you across the face harshly.

“My dear… sweet…wife…you’re leaving me?” He said mockingly. He was seething and red with anger grabbing your chin squeezing his fingers into your cheeks. You cried out struggling. “I..I am no longer your wife, Aegon. Get off of me I need to go.” He laughed his free hand running down the bodice of your dress. “Oh no..not before I give you a parting gift, my love.

“No! No!!” You screaming finally mustering up the courage to fight him off you kneed him in the crotch and ran off through the secret passage way behind the painting in your room. You ran and did not look back scared to see him right behind you if you did. It seemed like the darkness continued forever until you saw the wooden door that led to the outside world.

Opening the door you saw Criston waiting for you he turned back smiling knowing it was you, but it quickly faded seeing your face stained with tears. Before he could speak you warned him. “We need to go..Aegon knows I’m leaving..he attacked me and tried to…I hurt him…” He nodded grabbing your hand lacing his fingers into yours. The two of you hidden beneath your hooded cloaks. He avoided all of the Knight’s watch knowing exactly where they were assigned.

You heard them whispering trying to find your where abouts, but soon you were home free seeing the great boat that was to take you to freedom. He looked back at you with a smile and you were glowing with excitement. The crew was now on their course and you were on deck watching your prison slowly fading away into the distance.

Criston wrapped his arms around you, the lack of armor was a bit strange for the both of you, but it felt good to be free of it all. “I’m going to make you so happy, my Princess. I’m still your sworn protector come what may. After you have our child we will travel all corners of the realm just us.” You turned to face him cupping his face in your soft hands kissing him sweetly.

The two of you were off to your happiness or you would hope for it at least. There was a dragon biding his time waiting to strike…

To be continued…

I hope you enjoyed reading let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next part.

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sayafics · 5 months

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Envious cravings - Part 2

Sorry for the long wait on this chapter!

Unfortunately, this chapter was so long I had to split it into 2 parts, so Part 3 will be up soon, I promise!

That also means Part 2 does not contain smut. However, I promise lots of lovely Criston x OC, Daemon x OC, and smut moments in part 3 ❤️

Part 1

Masterlist

The days had passed by slowly, a treacherous peace imbued in the air of the Keep as the Blacks and the Greens existed in peace.

That did not stop Visenya's mind from racing every passing second, did not stop her from hesitating with every word and every breath - fearful she would say something wrong, do something wrong. Terrified she would anger her uncle, and he would expose her dalliances to all the Court, for them to mock and humiliate her.

She had thought distancing herself from her dearest Knight would help, but it only caused an ache to fester in her heart as she ran into his arms in the shadows of her chambers only days later. She blubbered and whimpered in his safe embrace, unable to speak of the secret Daemon held over them both.

No. If she was to tell him Daemon knew, Criston would wreak havoc - he would go on a rampage and hurt everyone in his path to get to Daemon.

Or perhaps he would leave her all together and choose his white cloak over her love.

No. She did not want such a possibility to be in question.

Criston could not know.

He couldn't.

Visenya spent countless nights praying whilst Criston dozed upon her bare chest. She traced shapes across his back and massaged his scalp as fervent pleas and frenzied whispers passed her lips.

She prayed this would pass and that Daemon would forget. She prayed the Blacks would leave the Keep and return to Dragonstone.

She prayed and prayed and prayed.

It seemed that the Seven had not been as attentive as she'd hoped - for it was only mere days later a rumble of excitement danced through the Keep.

A wedding, her handmaidens spoke.

A Lord from House Lannister, the knights muttered amongst themselves.

Lord Jason Lannister, it was announced in the Small Hall that night, had been offered the hand of a Targaryen Princess at King Viserys' behest.

But Rhaenyra was wed with children, and so was Helaena.

Oh.

Dread settled in the pit of Visenya's stomach at the news, her face pale and hands trembling.

From his place behind her seat, standing tall and proud, Criston ground his teeth in a bid to prevent slurs and seething protests from escaping his lips.

Lord Jason Lannister was a hunter and a warrior, a man far too proud and arrogant of his accomplishments and his family name.

A man much too old that had once proposed to Rhaenyra only to be turned away - a man that was ancient in comparison to a Princess as young as Visenya, but of course the rotting corpse of Viserys Targaryen saw no such discourse in such a match, with his child-bride Queen at his side.

Viserys announced that the betrothal was to take place the next day, staring at his daughter with a stubborn smile even as his flesh peeled away. Visenya could only nod as nausea bit at her throat, so quick she had been handed away. So fast she would be sent away.

Tomorrow, he had said.

Tomorrow, and she would no longer see her brothers and sister.

Tomorrow, and she would have to leave her mother.

Tomorrow, and she would no longer be Criston's.

One day, he had said. But it seems he was far too late now.

Visenya had cried herself to sleep that day, tiring herself out after she berated her Shield, after she begged him and pleaded with him, after she pushed him and yelled at him, after she told him to leave and begged him to stay.

Criston was ready to ask her to elope, for them to run away in a manner that he had asked Rhaenyra once. But he knew she would refuse, just as her half-sister did.

Criston had asked Rhaenyra as a saving grace for his shattered vows, to restore his honour and keep the fraying threads of his life together.

Rhaenyra denied him in favour of her riches and her crown.

But Visenya? He would ask her out of love, out of undying devotion and utter adoration.

But Visenya would stay out of loyalty to the Greens, terrified to leave them to be torn and ravaged by the Blacks.

She could not leave Aegon, her dearest twin. Could not leave him to be burdened by a throne he did not want.

She was older than Aegon, but Aegon was a boy - thus, the responsibility of claiming the crown as its rightful heir bypassed her and fell upon her breaking brother's shoulders.

Visenya could not leave him to bear such a weight alone - she was too loving, too kind, too caring. So Criston knew he could not ask such a sacrifice of her, knew she would not be able to bear the distance between herself and her brother. He knew she would not say yes - not to this.

***

"Are you ready, Princess?"

Criston's words were sombre from behind the doors, his throat tight as he waited for a reply.

Visenya stared at her reflection in the mirror - eyes flitting across her dusted cheeks, the rubies that weighed upon her throat like droplets of dragon's blood, the thick and velvety crimson of her gown that seemed to darken in contrast to her pale hair that was let loose down her back with three intricate braids meeting at the back in a poor reflection of a crown.

Her eyes burned at the sight - today would be the day she lost Criston forever. Jason Lannister would be welcomed to the Court with open arms, and use her as a brooding-mare in exchange.

"Princess?"

Still no word. Terrified her voice would break as she called out to her knight, she made her way to the doors instead.

Her hands trembled as she creaked the door open, just enough for Criston to peak inside. His shoulders fell with visible relief at the sight of her, knowing she was alive and breathing, even if she was not happy.

He could not help himself as he marvelled upon the sight of her, eyes roving over her figure as his breath caught in his throat and he heated within his armour.

He coughed harshly, aware of the eyes of the King's Guards beside him as they waited for him to usher the Princess out so they could escort her to the banqueting hall safely - "Princess," he looked crestfallen now, as though the words he was about to say had shattered something within him, "it is time."

Visenya took a shaky breath, nodding softly as her hands came to fidget with her hair - "you look beautiful."

Criston's softened whisper caused tears to well in her eyes, her throat ached as her chest weighed heavy - would this be the last she heard of his sweet words?

Even if Lord Lannister had decided to live in the Keep, which was unlikely in itself, he would not let another man breathe near her - a virgin princess was far too good of an opportunity to lose to another.

A bitter tang tasted upon her tongue, all this hassle and all this hurt simply because she was a virgin.

Visenya looked towards the ground, trying to hide her flaming cheeks from any onlookers as she smiled faintly at Criston's words.

"Come. The Queen is waiting outside the hall for us."

Us.

Oh, how she wishes it was Criston she was to wed tonight. How she wishes it was him her father had said yes to. How she wishes it would be him who fathers her children. Him who brought her desires to life. Him who loved her and cared for her and adored her.

Visenya stayed quiet, unwilling to speak, knowing she would do nothing but break. She simply nodded at the man, her eyes waning with terror as she stepped back from the door so he could push them open further.

Criston could have fallen to his knees at the sight - perhaps he would have, did they not have witnesses as of this moment.

But he knew better - he recalled his vows and prayed fervently to the Seven to help him stay bound to them.

He held out his arm for the Princess to take, guiding her towards her fate with a withering heart and a miserable soul.

***

The Queen dismissed the King's Guards with a scattered wave, walking slowly towards her daughter and Ser Cole - there was a grave look upon her face, as though she was staring into a reflection as she gazed upon her daughter.

Alicent had worn white at her wedding, a symbol of her purity and her intact maidenhead.

Visenya wore red, bathed in blood as though she was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb to a ravenous beast.

Gone was the dragon. In its place remained a girl, so young and so unprepared, she was not sure how to say no anymore. Unsure of how to beg for what she wanted, who she wanted.

Criston could not complain. He had kept quiet just the same - he held a scrap of hope that despite her marriage to the Lord of House Lannister, the King would ensure Criston continued to protect the Princess and stayed at her side.

It was that dwindling ounce of hope that had him bite back his tongue, fearful of saying a word lest it mean he was to remain in the Keep whilst she was shipped away.

Alicent's smile wobbled at the sight of her daughter, so beautiful and so brave, her eyes watering as she cupped her face in her hands - "you look so beautiful, my sweet child."

Visenya leaned into her hold, eyes closing tight to stop tears from leaking down her face. Still she didn't speak a word.

Alicent placed a soft kiss upon her head, and the arm that was wound around Criston's tightened - "come, my dear girl. The King is waiting."

Alicent turned towards the lumbering doors, the post empty as Alicent hoped for a moment of privacy with her daughter - she was not sure why. Perhaps it was to see if she truly wanted this - Alicent was sure she didn't.

But even then, to deny would make no difference as Alicent had lost her power in Court the day Viserys had chosen Rhaenyra over Aemond.

Alicent's hand reached towards the doors to rap her knuckles against it and call to the knights to part them open. Instead, a gasping breath caught her attention.

"Princess!" Criston watched her in alarm - Visenya had only taken a few stumbled steps towards her mother before she had stopped, taking one gasp full of air before another.

A hand came and pounded upon her chest, the first words she had spoken all day came crashing out in an agonised whimper, "I cannot breathe."

Alicent rushed back in a flurry, pulling her daughter from Criston's grasp to hold onto her shoulders firm, "Visenya, you must calm down."

"No, n-... no, cannot breathe. Please, mother."

Her skin flushed red as the tears flowed endlessly - no, she could not do this, she couldn't.

Not when she knew she didn't love the Lannister Lord. Not when she knew the man she did love stood only a mere few inches away.

Alicent was at a loss of what to do, her heart aching at the sight of her child in such a state of fear and panic, "my child. My sweet girl, I need you to breathe. Take slow breaths for me."

Visenya only shook her head vigorously, her breaths coming out fast and shallow as her skin began to blanch under the wobbling lights of the flamed torches that set the Keep alight.

Criston found he could not watch any longer, hands moving on their own accord to gather the girl in his arms and pull her close.

Alicent's hands fell to her side as she watched the scene in confusion, brows furrowing, and her heart sinking as she watched Ser Cole cup her daughter's face in his hands, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

His eyes were soft, they were quiet and warm as they met lavendar hues pooled with dread and misery. Visenya's harsh breaths felt hot against his skin, and he found his eyes flitting between her panicked ones and parted lips with worry.

"Breathe, Visenya."

Her name was a quiet whisper upon his lips, as though he wanted to savour the taste of it upon his tongue, as though he did not want others to hear the precious name and repeat it to undeserving ears.

Visenya trembled in his grasp, her hands leaving her chest as she wound them around his wrists and closed her eyes tight. Her head shook minutely, her breaths now ragged gasps as she lost herself in her tumbling thoughts.

She felt something soft brush against her head, her eyes opening just in time to see Criston press his head against her own as his hands pulled her closer to him.

"Come on, love," he pulled her hands towards his chest, exaggerated breaths leaving him as he looked into her eyes and through her soul, "breathe with me."

Visenya leaned into his presence, trying so hard to copy every breath and every movement. Trying so hard to stop her trembling hands and stand on steady feet.

Alicent watched their kinship with a heart of dread - her daughter was in love with her knight, a realisation which made Alicent fester with guilt, knowing she could not stop Visenya's undeniable future.

The girl would have to marry, and it would be to a Lord not to a Knight.

It would be to Jason Lannister and not Criston.

The minutes ticked by, but Visenya's tears slowly dried as she composed herself. Her hands never left Criston's plated chest, and his hands never slipped away from her twitching grasp.

She pulled herself back to stand taller, her face flushed red from the tears and panic but also from embarrassment. To have broken so quickly and openly, Visenya almost felt ashamed to meet her mother's gaze.

She could hear Alicent's approaching steps, and every whisper in her head became a blaring scream to let Criston go, lest her mother grow angry at the betrayal the knight had committed. But there was an incessant part of her, frail and timid, that could not bear to part from him so soon.

A weightless hand pressed against her cheek, and Visenya's eyes fluttered closed at her mother's voice - relief flushing through her body.

"Come, my child."

The three simple words had Criston relaxing under Visenya's touch, unsure of why the Queen had not acknowledged his closeness to the Princess and punished him, but far too grateful to question such a thing aloud.

It was Criston who stepped away now, eyes falling to the ground in submission to the vows he made that continued to loom over him.

Visenya's hands fell to her sides, fingers twisting in the soft fabric of her gown as she nodded in dissent, a grim smile upon her face.

***

The banquet was flourishing, Courtiers and Lords, Ladies-in-waiting and maids, even the knights were participating in the festivities. All except a sour-faced Shield who stood behind the Queen on guard, watching the Princess grimace as Lord Lannister spun her around the hall in a graceless frenzy.

Criston gritted his teeth at the sight of Lannister's wandering hands and sly whispers, he stood straight as his eyes lay fixed upon the Princess instead of attending to his duties and guarding the Queen from potential harm.

Daemon watched the seething and rageful knight from his place at the table, Rhaenyra at his side with his hand clasped between two of her own and placed upon her swollen belly. Daemon's lips quirked into a shrewd smile as he watched Criston's hands clench into fists when Lannister dipped the Princess low to the ground and shamelessly gazed down the valley of her breasts.

He gave Rhaenyra's hand a light squeeze, pulling his hand from her tightening grip to saunter his way to the Knight. He reached for a goblet, before thinking twice and reaching for another - the good Ser would need a drink, was he to watch his lover be pawed at by a man he envied.

The wedding would take place soon, the dreadful pair would exchange their vows, and their marriage would be sealed in the eyes of the Kingdom. And then, it did not matter how much Ser Cole glared and sputtered, for the Princess would no longer be his to claim.

Daemon could have almost laughed at the idea of a heartbroken Criston wandering through the halls of the Keep, so lonely and miserable.

But there was a part of his mind that blinked back to the night he had caught the pair in the throws of passion, remembers how he touched himself to the sound of her sighs and climaxed at the sight of her pleasure. He remembers her pliant body and her rasped moans.

Daemon had kept the secret to himself, so sure an opportunity would present itself to him where he could wring the sin for all its worth and bathe in the rewards of keeping such a twisted secret.

But following Criston's raging gaze to find the Princess still trapped in the wily arms of an undeserving Lord, Daemon felt a scratch of envy wedge itself in his throat - a bitter and burning sensation that spread through him, causing him to look away and pretend as though he had felt nothing at all.

Criston had not taken her maidenhead, and if she were to wed tonight, it seemed Jason Lannister would stake his claims upon it instead.

Daemon drew close to the man and stood with his back against the wall, taking careful sips from his goblet as he held the spare out to his left.

He tutted when Criston did not acknowledge him, a wretched smirk pulling across his face as he goaded - "one drink shall do you no harm, good Ser. Perhaps then you can stray your gaze from my little niece."

Criston stiffened at his words, shoulders straightening as his glare shifted from Lannister's cooing over the girl to the ground beneath his boots - "I am merely exercising caution, my Prince."

"Ah, of course. A brave knight indeed."

Criston could hear the mocking tone beneath his words, but he held his tongue so careful to draw attention to their conversation.

"Take it."

Criston simply turned to look at Daemon, a blank stare upon his face.

"As your Prince, I believe you are obliged to indulge me."

A mocking grin broke out on Daemon's face as Criston nodded his head with a clenched jaw and snatched the goblet from his outstretched hand, "of course, my Prince."

"Good. Drink your fill, I believe my niece will not be needing your keen attention tonight."

Criston made no move to drink from the goblet, his hands wrapping tight around it as his knuckles blanched at the force.

"After all," Daemon continued, a lecherous lilt to his voice as his eyes swam with amusement, "my darling niece shall no longer be a virgin tonight."

Criston held his tongue still, breaths escaping him in ragged breaths like smoke from a dragon before it roared its burning flames. He threw back the goblet with a mighty force, dismissing Alicent's wary glances that she threw over her shoulder at the unexpected pair.

Criston gritted his teeth, expecting flavoured wine in place of the sour ale that burned in his throat.

Daemon gestured for another drink to be brought, this one stronger than the last and Criston threw it back with an ease that should not be found in a man who had taken such sanctimonious vows - but he had already broke one, what harm would another do?

"Do you think she is excited?" There was a touch of laughter to Daemon's words, crazed by the idea of pushing the Knight further off the edge with every word despite how bitter the words sat upon his tongue, an added fuel to his own envious cravings.

"Do you think she is ravenous?" Daemon couldn't stop his words, couldn't stop pushing and prodding and hurting. "I think the brat would scream, do you not? I think she would be upon her knees begging the Lord Lannister for such-"

His words were cut off as the gobelt was shoved into his chest. He stumbled sideways at the force as a wild laugh escaped him, and his eyes followed the seething form of an unchained beast.

Criston shoved past Lords and Ladies, growled at his fellow knights who approached in question, glared at the Queen who called for him to return to her side.

His eyes were fixed now upon one place, one person.

Visenya. His Visenya. His Princess.

And upon her was a wretched leech, a venomous serpent who was undeserving of holding such an angel in his embrace.

Criston reached for the pommel of his sword, eyes blazing with the fire of a thousan suns as he cast it aside. The clang of the metal against the tiled grounds startled those around him, and their frozen figures and aghast stares were what dragged the attention of his Visenya and that vile beast beside her.

Visenya's brows furrowed in concern, a soft frown upon her lips as she tried to move closer towards him, his name a whisper upon her lips.

Lannister held her by the wrist, his grip so tight it made her whimper, and it made Criston seethe.

Before Lannister had an opportunity to pull the girl behind him and draw his sword out to cut Criston's head from his shoulders, the Knight had launched forward - a powerful blow was thrown against the Lord's face, and ever the hunter and warrior that he was, the old man collapsed to the ground with a painful groan.

Lannister had dropped Visenya's hand, and she paused for a moment where she stood. She wanted to reach out to Criston, to have him hold her and reassure her that this wedding would not go through, but a sea of eyes were upon them and whispers already began to spread.

Criston's eyes met her own, his gaze roiling with unbridled possessiveness and anger - anger that Lannister had touched her, anged that Lannister believed himself worthy of marriage to her, anger that Lannister could touch his princess all he wanted and Criston had to hesitate even in the darkest shadows of the Keep.

Criston searched her eyes, there was a breath that was long and heavy, and Visenya knew what he was searching for - she nodded.

Criston's head snapped back to the Lord, who was stumbling upon his feet as he spewed a littany of curses. Criston bared his teeth, an animalistic snarl escaping him as he lauched after the man once more.

For every blow the Lannister Lord landed, Criston would return with eight more. He disarmed the weakening warrior, and in the midst of a screaming crowd, he pulled the man to the ground and climbed atop him - he railed upon his with relentless blows, uncaring of the witnesses, of the fear because Visenya had said it was okay. Because Visenya had also wanted this.

Vinsenya watched her dear and daring knight beat the man half to death with morbid fascination - she felt as though she should be terrified, felt that she should be sickly and horrified.

But something twisted with her gut, something that had her cheeks flush as she pressed her thighs together when a familiar heat spread between her legs.

There was something arousing about his brutality, something tantalising and tempting about his possessive nature and undying fidelity.

Even as the crowd grew rowdy around her, she found she could not make her eyes leave the sight of her raging, angered knight. Of her Criston.

It was not until a hand wrapped around her forearm that she snapped out of her sinful fantasies, breath catching in her throat to meet the narrowed eyes of an amused Daemon.

He tugged the girl closer until her chest was pressed against his own, and he leaned in close, his breath hot against her cheeks, which flushed a heavy crimson - "I have to say, I did not think of him able to go this far. But, dare I say, little niece - you look ravishing. I can see why your loyal dog would risk his life to keep you to himself."

She swallowed roughly, thinking of what to say to deny his claims despite knowing Daemon had seen Criston pleasure her from his place within the walls. But then her heart stuttered to a pause, 'risk his life.'

That was what Daemon had said.

But, what did he mean by such a thing.

It was as though Daemon could see the confusion painted across her face, and he tutted with a pitying smile. Daemon's hand found her face, squeezing her cheeks roughly as she winced. He brushed her lower lip, biting his own at the sight of the reddened flesh before blinking himself free of his desires.

He twisted her head roughly, his grip unrelenting even at her startled gasp and dreadful cry - "no!"

Daemon wound his arm around her waist, anchoring her back against his chest as he freed her aching cheeks from his grasp.

Visenya watched in horror as the King's Guards tore Criston off the Lannister Lord, Otto Hightower yelling commands to have the knight taken to his chambers, to be confined within them until the time was right to call for a hearing.

He would be sentenced for such an attack - House Lannister would ensure it.

Would his title be stripped from him? Would he be sent back to the empty lands he came from? Or would he be sentenced to death?

Her heart sunk at the thought, eyes burning with tears as she saw the raging man meet her gaze with no ounce of regret and an endless river of love and promise.

Behind her, Daemon tightened his grip around the girl, a quiet shushing that calmed her despite her best efforts to ignore it.

Daemon turned the girl to face him, drawing her closer as she hid her face in his chest and allowed her fearful whimpers to escape freely. Her hands were twisted into the fabric of his fine tunic, just as his hands were tightened around her waist.

Rhaenyra watched the pair with a haze of confusion and anger, unwilling to lower her gaze even when Daemon had searched to find her still upon her seat at the table with a hand resting atop her swollen belly. But with a whimpering girl in his arms, holding onto him despite being so fearful of him, Daemon found he did not care for his wife's furious gaze.

One thing was for certain now, Daemon would not allow his darling niece to wed the House of the Lions. She was a drgaon, through and through - she would not submit to anyone but her own kind, Daemon would ensure it.

Taglist: @hangmanscoming @marihoneywk @serving-targaryen-realness @unicoreads @heartb8k2 @flirtymoonsblog @whimsicalfungi @ahristata

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc x criston cole #daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x y/n #criston cole x oc #criston cole x reader #ser criston #ser criston cole #criston cole #criston cole x you #criston cole x targaryen!reader #envious cravings

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nocturnalstarlet · 1 month

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while i'm working on the (1) request in my inbox, wanted to step into the tags to say that the trailers for house of the dragon s2 has made me fully obsessed with that fandom again. would love hotd fic recs (one shots/drabbles/literally anything, etc.) for any of the charas atm, except aegon, bc i wanna read more hotd stuff!! don't be afraid to plug your own fics/work in the comments (tumblr or ao3 preferred)!!

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

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The Queen’s Hand

(Part VIII: The Black Queen)

Summary Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII

“My Queen,” Lord Lyonel says in greeting. The room is empty, save for the two of them. Aemmia has requested him and him alone.

“Grandsire,” Aemmia chokes out. “Now is no time for formalities. I need a kind word and a familiar hand.”

Harwin’s father sighs, “what can I do, dearest?”

“Give me the truth of it. How bad off are we?”

“We?” Lyonel whispers. “Those of us on King’s Landing?”

“Start there, yes.” Aemmia nods.

“We are fortified against any attack, with ships in all directions. No one will come by surprise.”

“The Velaryons will come by sea, my family will come by dragon.” She points out.

“Aemmia,” Lyonel takes her hand in his, “if I may? Vhagar is the largest claimed dragon in all the realms. She would do much damage. Same as Aranthi and Sunfyre. But Rhaenyra has more dragons with more experienced riders. Though none of them have been to war.”

“What about man power? We have Ser Criston, Aemond can fight, along with what’s left of the King’s Army.” She trails off, “they have Daemon, a warrior in his own right, more experienced than any of our soldiers. They have my father, the strongest knight in the seven kingdoms.”

“Who does not intend to use said strength against you of all people. You are his child. He loves you, as your mother loves you.”

Aemmia nods, attempting to compose herself.

“Such love does not disappear on a whim.”

“I know I- I do not know what’s come over me.” She holds a protective hand to her belly, just begun to protrude.

“You are frightened. I have left you too often by yourself, that was not my intention.” Lyonel apologizes.

“We are all doing what we can.” Aemmia shakes her head.

“What of Aemond? I’m sure his presence would be most reassuring to you in these times.”

“My husband cares for me and I for him. But we’ve come up differently. I was taught to lean in for comfort, he learned to close in on himself for solace.”

“Perhaps you will find compromise.” Lyonel smiles, kindly.

Aemmia blinks in quick succession, he is regarding her in a way he never has. “What is it?”

Lyonel pats her cheek. “When your mother first asked for your father’s hand, I denied her. She was highly sought after, proposals flew in from right and left. I, as Hand to your late Grandsire, saw them all. She could have married into a house of higher standing than my own. But she would not marry. I believed it was her chosen path to serve the crown.

My son, had already sired a son by Princess Rhaenyra. King Viserys denied it, but everyone knew. Some say I love Harwin to a fault. Still I could not bring myself to allow Y/N the shame. Nor could I speak on the parentage of Jacaerys, it would mean exile and death for all involved. After Lucerys was born, Y/N came again. She said onto me, I will take him as he is. All he has done, all he will do matters not. I will take Ser Harwin Strong and unsully his name. I will love his sons as my own and ensure their legitimacy. I will bear him children of high status in court and heirs to Harrenhal.”

Lyonel recounts, with a far off look in his eyes. “If you had told me then that one of those children would become Queen of the seven kingdoms, I would’ve laughed. Over the years your mother has become very dear to my heart. It gives me hope to know that her legacy and my boy’s will live on in you.”

“She is much stronger than I.” Aemmia argues, “I am not suited for this.”

“What you do now will live in infamy, Aemmia. By your hand will come the rise or fall of the mighty House Targaryen.”

————————————🌱———————————

Y/N learns of their intruder by a tune. A simple melody echoing up from the lower level. Daemon ordered him locked away for later questioning, though he did not alert the Queen, nor her Princess Hand.

It has been but minutes since the return of Laenor, carrying Viserys’ crown. Passed straight from Aemmia’s hand to his own.

‘How is she, Laenor? How is my girl?’ Y/N takes his arm.

‘She is well,’ Laenor holds back.

Y/N hoped the affirmation of Aemmia’s intentions would calm her uncle. Perhaps she was wrong. The rogue prince still lives within him.

The song has passed down through Y/N’s mother, Aemma, to her children. Y/N follows the sound to the cellar. A body is hunched over on the floor, curled in against itself for warmth.

Carefully Y/N closes the distance between herself and the prisoner. “Aegon?”

He startles, “Y/N.”

“Why’ve you come?”

“By my Grandsire’s will, to plead for the life of my mother and house.” Aegon informs her.

“You seem very lax for delivering such a message.” Y/N scoffs.

“What does it matter?” He throws up a hand. “If you wish to show mercy, then we are already saved. And if you wish to collect on bloodlust then we are naught but walking corpses.”

“Why send you?” Y/N wonders. “Why not Aemmia or Aemond?”

“They are too valuable these days.” Aegon purses his lips.

“Hmm.”

“He thought I might also play into the love we once shared.” Aegon replies, flippantly. “I cant recall, but I’m sure you do.”

When Aegon was born, until his second name day, Y/N doted on her sweet brother. Bringing forth the most beautiful dragon’s egg for him. Unfortunately it was a love that could not be, although they both desperately needed it. Driven apart by jealousy and aspirations of power.

‘She will poison his mind.’ Otto told Alicent, ‘he will favor her over you.’

Y/N nods. “I would like you to return to your mother. Assure her that we are drawing up fair terms, for each and every one of you.”

“Did you love me?” He wonders, cocking his head to the side. He’s never known her to love any of them but Rhaenyra.

Y/N pauses, swallowing down all her guilt. Her heart tearing anew as she finds his eyes, hollow from the hand he was dealt. Much different from hers, and what his own might have been if only- “I did love you, Aegon.” She admits, “I loved you with all my heart.”

Aegon holds her stare, as if willing his mind to recount details it cannot. “Pity.”

“Indeed.”

“That would, however make you one of the few people who ever did.” He lifts a shoulder, “I will not exploit you for it. I do ask you spare my children at least.” Aegon whispers, “I’ve not been much a father to them, but our sins should not be their’s to account for.”

Y/N turns away. “Be a better father when you return, a better husband to your wife. Become the man I hoped you to be and do not take for granted the mercy afforded you.”

“I am not like you, I’m not cut out for this.” Aegon calls out to her. “I never wanted this.”

“And I never wanted it for you. But it matters not what we want, only what we do with the cards we are given.”

————————————🌱———————————

“Do you wish me bald?” Aemond quips, as his wife’s anxious fingers pull at his locks.

He does not mind her toying with his hair, Aemond has come to enjoy the gentle intimacy that Aemmia has brought into his life. But something is off about this.

“There is a time for tugging and a time for stroking, wouldn’t you say?” Aemond tries again. Her restless motions continue until he reaches back, catching her wrist. “Aemmia.”

“Forgive me.” She says immediately, dropping the blonde tresses. Reeling her mind back from the great unknown.

“Where did you go?”

“I was only thinking.” Aemmia presses a kiss to his cheek to reassure him.

“What about?”

“If our children take my features over yours, will you be very disappointed?”

Aemond’s mouth quirks up, “of all the things to worry about, you choose this?”

“And if it is a daughter instead of a son?”

“Then I shall have a father’s girl in your image. She will be terribly spoilt.”

“How about a dragon?” Aemmia goes about pacing the floor.

“Atara might bring forth another clutch.” Aegon’s dragon, Sunfyre, said to be the most magnificent in all of Westeros, was a gift from her first.

Aemmia nods, Atara is her mother’s dragon. “My mother always said that dragons are one with our souls. They’re privy to our fears, strengths, weaknesses, our heart’s greatest desires. That’s why some are born to us while others find us later.”

“Hmm,” Aemond hums, it’s an interesting theory.

“Atara and Aranthi have never been apart.”

“Dragons are different than humans, my love.” Aemond murmurs. If Atara is in any distress it would be more likely from Y/N’s longing for Aemmia than the dragon’s longing for one of its own children.

“Did you know my father learned High Valyrian to speak to Atara?”

“Why?”

“Because she is one with my mother and therefore part of him.” Aemmia breaks off.

“You mustn’t do this to yourself.” Aemond scrubs his fingers over his forehead.

“I know that, Aemond. Only sometimes I can’t help it.”

“You miss them terribly,” Aemond says.

“I do,” she admits, staring down at the floor.

“I would like to know them.”

“You plan to stay with me then, when this is finished?”

Aemond sighs, “I do. If it’s allowed of me.”

Aemmia gives him a gentle smile. “Who knows, you may even come to love them.”

“Let’s not be overzealous.”

“My mother would like you.” The brunette presses on.

“She never did.” Aemond replies, with a shake of his head.

“She never had a chance.”

———————————🌱————————————

“It is imperative that we know the intentions of Eyrie, Stark and Baratheon. With house Stark the north will follow.” Daemon says, his tone clipped. He is irritated, to say the least, at Y/N’s choices.

‘If you are to be Hand, you must hold the Queen’s safety above all others. You must be willing to drench yourself in the blood of thousands in her name!’ He scolds Y/N.

‘Who has stood more faithfully by her side than I? While you waged wars and fathered children, free to marry as you saw fit, who was there for Rhaenyra? When you abandoned her during her labors with your daughter to raise hell, who held her? You dare tell me what it means to be my sister’s hand? I have done it all her life!’ Y/N spits back.

‘You love her, I will not deny this.’ Daemon lowers his voice. ‘But loving her and leading her are two very different tasks. You need to toughen your skin as well as your heart to succeed in both. Think of our numbers, in dragons alone. Atara, Syrax, Caraxes, Seasmoke, Meleys, and that doesn’t include the children’s dragons, three more wild reside here on Dragon Stone. We could have every Green head mounted on a spike and Rhaenyra on the throne before the fucking day’s end.”

‘I will not advise Rhaenyra to slay her own kin!’

“Send us.” Jace suggests, “dragons are faster than ravens. We’ll be there in half the time.”

Y/N would usually speak up. Say no, it is an unnecessary risk. Rhaenyra considers this, hoping to meet her sister’s eye for insight. Y/N offers none, stonewalling her. Or maybe she cannot bear to look upon her.

“Very well,” Rhaenyra agrees. “Jacaerys will take Eyrie and Winterfell. Deliver our message, see if they will stand with us.”

“I shall fly with him, my Queen.” Geniysa offers.

“Geniysa-” Harwin shakes his head.

“I’ve received proposals from members of these houses. It is past time for me to marry, we shall kill two birds with one stone.” Geniysa points out.

“You’re prepared to make such a decision on your own?” Y/N frowns at her daughter.

“I will have Jacaerys,” Geniysa slaps her cousin once on the back.

“Indeed,” he agrees. “I will help guide her hand.”

Y/N bites out. “Let it be done, we shall await your safe return.”

Geniysa snaps her mouth shut, nodding curtly to her mother.

Harwin joins his wife, near the head of the table, brushing hair away from her ear to whisper. “Are you absolutely sure about this? Once a betrothal is set in place it, ending it would be frown upon.”

Y/N turns in to him, keeping her tone hushed. “She is a woman grown. Worse still, she is a child of yours and mine, incredibly stubborn. The move is hers to make.”

Harwin gives a tight nod of acknowledgment.

“Your devotion moves me, Princess.” Rhaenyra tells her niece. “It will not be forgotten.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Lucerys and Viserus should take to Storm’s End. It is a short flight from here.” Rhaenyra tells the younger boys. They have always done well together, this has not changed with the years.

“I will aid in his safe passage, my Queen.” Viserus tells her.

“And I his,” Luc looks to Y/N.

“I have no doubt. You’ll do us all proud.”

————————————🌱———————————-

The days drag on, leaving Aemond in a state of unease. He spars to soothe the frazzled bits of him that his wife cannot. Though Aemmia would put him out of his misery with her lips to his; whispering the sweetest of nothings as tender hands caress his face. His wedding gift to her bouncing about her neck before the sapphire finally clings to her sweat damp skin. However, fucking his frustrations into her would not allow a favorable place for their child to grow. Only love for you.

Aemond swings his sword toward his opponent, the clank of metal is familiar. Here he has complete control.

“Brother, I have returned with word from Dragon Stone.” Aegon interrupts.

The King huffs, tossing his weapon to the ground. His head aches, radiating out from the scar around his left eye socket. He drags the heel of his palm across the patch, willing it out of his mind. “Let’s hear it.”

“They’re assembling a battalion. Not to fight, unless it comes to that. Drawing up ‘fair’ terms for the lot of us. All of which will presumably including bending the knee to Rhaenyra.”

“Hmm.”

“We should also rally allies.” Aegon looks away, eyes scanning the grounds.

“What for?”

“You would bet your life and that of your child on their willingness to accept our surrender?”

“Rhaenyra would have no reason to harm us.”

“If it is Y/N’s word she follows.” Aegon points out. “Daemon is thirsty for blood and will stop at nothing to get it.”

“How would you advise me?” Aemond squares his shoulders.

“Houses Stark and Baratheon hold the north, both of whom swore oaths to Rhaenyra. Securing them would give us a leg up, should we need it.”

“You think it will come to that?”

“They are a house divided amongst themselves…and we know how well that works out.” Aegon stares down at the dirt.

“Very well.” Aemond agrees, “I will make the journey to Storm’s end.”

“Make haste, Aemond.” Aegon warns, “their troops will be upon us sooner rather than later.”

“What has brought about this sudden sense of urgency?” Aemond asks, it seems out of character.

“Rhaenyra lost the babe.”

“Gods be good.”

“Y/N,” Aegon breathes, “she is unhinged.”

“Yet she let you live.” Aemond points out.

“You did not see her eyes.” The eldest boy’s hands ball into fists. “She is on the precipice.”

————————————🌱———————————

“He asked for what?” Surely Y/N has heard Viserus wrong.

“Stark asked first for Geniysa, then for Rhaelys. I told him no, on both counts. They are not mine to offer.” Viserus repeats.

“Well done, son.” Harwin assures him.

“Well done?” Daemon scoffs, “he has lost us the North.”

“Instead, I offered my hand to Borros Baratheon’s daughters. The youngest is around my age, a bit older, but she seemed quite taken with our terms.” Viserus smirks, “we have the North, dear uncle.”

The older man huffs, squaring his shoulders.

“You can say you’re proud of me,” Viserus jests, “it’s alright.”

Daemon says nothing, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He claps the boy once on the back as he passes.

Jace and Geniysa return a while after with good news. Rhaenyra’s oath still stands amongst Eyrie and Winterfell.

The middle two Strong children exchange stories about their newly betrothed. Geniysa’s future husband, Arnold Arryn of Eyrie, is older by a handful. “He has his own personal vendetta against a cousin for stealing his place as heir. He believes women are too soft to lead.” Nevertheless, he is willing to reside with her on Dragon Stone or King’s Landing.

“No one better than you to change his mind, cousin.” Jacaerys offers.

Viserus is to wed Floris Baratheon, “she is quiet, but I hope she will warm up.”

Y/N and Harwin are invited to dine with the Queen and King Consort. Along with the Lord of the Tides, his lovely wife and their new found friend, Ser Lynis. But as the hour grows later, the Princess has no appetite.

Rhaelys hums happily in the mother’s lap as Y/N weaves a line of intricate patterns into her silver locks.

“Y/N,” a voice calls from the entryway of her chambers.

“Your grace.” Y/N responds, turning to see her sister. Tapping Rhaelys on the shoulder. “Go, love. Angette is waiting just outside for you.”

“Aunt Rhaenyra?” The little girl peers up at her.

“Yes, Rhaelys?”

The six year old frowns, tossing both arms around the woman’s waist. “I’m sorry about your baby.”

Rhaenyra passes a hand over the crown of her head, “me too, my sweet. Run along now, your supper will get cold.”

Rhaelys dashes out the door without any fuss.

“Ser Harwin informed me that you are unwell.” The Queen comes round, closing the space between she and her sister.

“I will see this through, Rhaenyra. You need not worry.”

“I do not worry for my hand, I worry for my sister.” Rhaenyra says, firmly. Taking a seat beside her on the foot stool, leaning her head against Y/N’s shoulder.

The older girl kisses the top of her sister’s head, resting her cheek there. “I will be better on the morrow.”

“Shall I sit with you a while?”

“Or,” Y/N begins, “we could sneak down to the kitchens.”

Rhaenyra draws back to look at her sister. “And eat cake?”

Y/N nods, fighting back a grin.

————————————🌱———————————-

“Aemmia,” Alicent rushes in to the sitting room.

“Alicent.”

“Word has come, the Velaryon fleet has taken to the seas. They will surround King’s Landing before the moon turns.” She warns.

“It is time then.” They all knew this was coming.

“I can only imagine the things your mother hath told you of me, but I do not wish her dead. Nor Rhaenyra.”

“My mother never spoke an ill word about you, Alicent.” Not to her anyway. “Whatever guilt you hold over things past is your own.”

“All I’ve done is to protect my children.”

“Why do you assume she would harm them?”

“That is what-”

“That’s what you would do.” Aemmia crosses both arms over her chest. “Luckily my mother is better than that.”

“I never meant for it to be this way. We had hoped that with you on the throne, the secession would be peaceful.” Alicent eyes the younger girl, warily.

“Supplanting Rhaenyra was never going to be peaceful. Not when my mother and late Grandsire, spent their lives preparing said throne for it’s rightful heir.” Aemmia turns away from her, staring out the window.

“Perhaps this was miscalculated,” Alicent catches her elbow, “but we thought it best for everyone involved.”

“We?”

“My father and I.”

Aemmia scoffs, “Otto has no love for my mother or Rhaenyra.”

“I do.” Alicent murmurs, half under her breath.

“Then agree to their terms. I’m sure they would accept your surrender and spare your life. Trust may take a while but it would come, eventually.”

“You’ve spent a great deal of time with Helaena as of late,” Alicent changes the subject. “I like to think the two of you could’ve been friends.”

“Helaena is my friend.” Aemmia pulls away from her. “We can still right this, for all of us, with no blood shed. We still have a chance.”

The ships arrive the next morning, just after the dragons. Vhagar, Sunfyre and Aranthi have all been freed from the pit, incase they should need them. Leaving only Helaena’s dragon, Dreamfyre, within, she is a small creature. Not suited for war.

“Do I sit or stand?” Aemmia paces anxiously before the throne. Her dress suddenly too tight, constricting her breath.

Aemond takes her hand. Holding her against his side, facing the throne room doors. “Be still.”

Their army stands behind them, more just outside, lying in wait.

Aemmia’s family does appear, with Rhaenyra at the forefront. She is not alone of course, her mother is there and her father. Daemon and their children at her side. The show of force that trails after them makes Aemmia’s stomach turn.

When they finally stand opposite each other no one speaks for a long while.

Finally it is Y/N to land the first blow. “We shall hear the terms of your surrender, in hopes they align with ours. But first I shall have my daughter, and my sister shall have her throne.”

“Go,” Aemond nods, “go to your mother, love.”

Aemmia squeezes his fingers then drops them, prepared to close the gap between their two families. Before her foot touches the first step down, Otto Hightower has his dagger drawn and at her throat.

“Hold,” Rhaenyra puts an arm out, hearing the shuffle of armor behind her.

“Drop your weapons.” Otto demands, watching the enemy do so. “On your knees.”

Only Daemon fights it.

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra warns, “do it, now.”

The man rolls his eyes, kneeling beside his wife. “I am growing too old for such things.”

Otto presses the blade a bit more firmly against Aemmia’s neck, tiny beads of scarlet pooling around the edge. “Here you stand, largest army in Westeros at your heels, come to take what is yours. All you’ve fought for, all you’ve bled for and yearned for; yet you cannot seize it. Instead you drop like flies to your knees. Love is your downfall. Love stays the hand.”

“Grandsire, this is not my wish.” Aemond cuts in. “She is your Queen, to harm her would be the highest of treasons.”

“In a matter of minutes her reign will end, as will yours. Your very lives will be forfeit. Is that your wish Aemond?”

“She is with child.” Aemond informs him, “my child. I wish to see her bear it, mend our houses. As my father so willed it.”

“Your father was so blind to the affairs of your family that he allowed you to be maimed. All in the name of Rhaenyra and her bastards. Sired by the same man as the whore who hath wrought these delusions upon you. Viserys did not defend you. I did! Your mother did!” Otto shouts.

He and Otto move in unison. Aemond is fast to draw his sword, using the blade of it to impale his Grandsire and drive him forward.

“Say what you will, but she has my loyalty.” Aemond seethes. I love her.

Otto’s blood soaked dagger falls to the ground. Aemmia stumbles away with a hand to her throat. Blood oozing out between her fingers, down her wrist and forearm to her elbow.

Alicent is the one to break her fall, moving the girl so that she is cradled against her on the floor. “We must have the Maester!”

Rhaenyra’s army prepares to pounce. “Stay your hand,” the Queen commands.

Aemmia’s parents rush past Otto and Aemond to their daughter.

“There you are,” Otto sputters out as Rhaenyra comes into view. “Come to sit upon your beloved throne.”

She ignores him, headed for her niece instead. Crowding around the girl like everyone else.

“Mama,” Aemmia whispers, her head is light; floating above her body.

“I’m here,” Y/N gentles her. “I’m here.”

“Papa.”

“Yes, sweetheart, all accounted for.” Harwin, pushes a bit of hair from her face. “Let me see,” he pries her fingers away from the wound. Aemmia’s head resting in Alicent’s lap. It is deep, but doesn’t appear to have hit a vein. She will live if they act quickly to seal it. Blood loss will be their worst enemy. “Not too bad, hmm?” Harwin applies firm pressure with his own hand as they wait for the maester. “Just a scratch.”

Y/N holds her daughter’s hand. Unable or willing to focus on anything else.

“For the love of the gods, let us heat up a blade and seal it. I’ve seen this a thousand times in battle.” Daemon says, feigning indifference, though clearly worried as the rest.

“I will do it.” Laenor sprints over to the corner torch lamp. Holding his knife to the flame until it burns red hot.

“Move her hair away.”

“Hold her steady, we want the edges to be clean.”

Everything moves out of time, the smell of charring flesh, the sound of Aemmia’s scream. A collective lurch of bodies, crying out in warning. Y/N turns her head just in time to see Criston Cole charging her way. Sword drawn.

The princess does not move, frozen as lords and knights alike rush to her defense. But they are too late. The sound of metal against metal startles Y/N more than the impact she braced for.

“You dare attack my sister while her back is turned?” Aegon seethes, deadlocked with Ser Criston.

“They cannot take the throne, my Prince. I will die defending your honor.” The man who helped raise him replies. Pushing back against Aegon’s hand.

“I will not kill you, Cole. You have been dear to me, but you mustn’t harm my family.” Aegon says, cooly. “Guards, remove Ser Criston and place him under lock and key.”

Perhaps they are not too far gone. Perhaps they will save each other.

Part IX

Taglist @evyiione @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic@leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak @chonisbestmistake @poemfreak306 @giulia2372 @stargaryenx @rxscpctals

#the queens hand #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenrya targaryen #rhaenyra fanfic #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin x reader #ser harwin strong #laenor valeryon #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #ser criston cole #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #harwin strong imagine #princess rhaenyra

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gulnarsultan · 1 year

Text

⚔

》 Your sworn guards, Ser Harwin Strong and Ser Criston Cole, are yandere for you. 《

#yandere male #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #yandere asoiaf #yandere game of thrones #yandere harwin strong #yandere criston cole #criston cole x reader #criston cole x y/n #criston cole x oc #criston cole x you #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong x oc #ser harwin x reader #ser criston cole #ser harwin strong #yandere boyfriend

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shawty-writes-a-little · 2 years

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Can you write a Ser Criston x reader where during the chaos of the end of episode 5 (they are secret lovers and she can be Rhaenyra younger sister o someone else important for the Targaryen family) she get stabbed/attacked at the cerimony of Rhaenyra wedding?You can add prompt 10 for angst and fluff list.

Feel free to ignore this if you don’t like it or don’t feel like writing it🥰

Sake of conversation

Hi I wrote this literally today for the entire evening I hope you like it anon ily :)

Word count: 2.8k+

Summary: the request + a happy ending //there’s slight difference from the canon bc oh well

Warnings: Major ANGST, stab wounds, I haven’t read the books

Ser criston cole x fem!targareyn reader

—

Shimmers of the moonlight that danced as the shadows moved fast on the pillars along the passage of godswood as y/n walked through the palace hastily with her hand firmly on the sides of her abdomen blocking the blood spill from the stab wound she got from the events of the wedding. She didn’t see who it was it happened quickly as she moved past the crowd to get to her older sister at first, until grunting of fights created a new hustle amongst everyone. Y/n dropped to the ground as her body acknowledged her about the stab wound. Nobody in the utter disorder took a notice of the princess on the ground, crawling to the pillars she supported herself up but the next thing she saw was Ser Criston Cole being the centre of mayhem. Almost everyone got in the middle for her make out what was happening but she saw rivers of blood flow out from the centre and it did not come from the knight suit.

All her thoughts regarding what she saw Ser Criston do clouded the sharp pain she felt. Him on top of whoever the royal guest might be striking them repeatedly, the sight didn’t leave her mind. He must’ve had his reason. She wanted to believe that, still leaning on the pillar unable to move she hoped Ser Criston would reason her some way. Assure her that her lover is not a violent man who at his breaking point would commit something so gruesome.

For now as she forced herself to walk in order to find him. Her beloved Criston she spent nights under the starry sky, the secret glances shared during gatherings, the jokes they shared among them and the laughs they had was when she felt the most unconfined, felt loved. That was the Criston she knew and wanted held on to before she confronted him.

Walking outside the great hall was a task itself, ignoring the throbbing pain by her wound was getting difficult. Getting out of the halls without getting Ser Harwin to notice was even more difficult but cautiously she managed to. Cirston wasn’t by the gates or the hallway, next place she decided to look was the godswoods.

The celebration and the havoc of what happened might be bright and loud on the front but this part of the palace was sound. The dead of the night never felt more silent but the thousand thoughts were loud to cloud y/n’s vision. Regardless she finally found him. As he walked from across the passage of godswood towards her.

It was dark from that farther for him to distinguish who might be coming his way, the silhouette became more familiar as he came closer. Y/n. He remained silent, at lost of words as they were both face to face for the first time that night, quite a while ago this would’ve been the only face he wanted to be with for the sense of comfort and familiarity y/n held, just as right now but he felt rather lost at words. What happened made him question the gravity of his honour.

Y/n though, bold as anytime even with a stab wound which seemed trivial for now “What happened in there?” She asked him with shaky voice, Criston could tell her any lie right now and she would believe him. Very so badly she wanted to for their sake. The downside of him saying what would not end well for the two of them scared y/n to even think of it, yet it felt like a painful pill having to go through “Criston…what happened in there?” She asked him again. Tears pricked her eyes as his silence made it harder for her to hold onto the merry picture of their relationship and it drew her closer to believing he was capable of doing such a thing, “Answer me” she pleaded this time as tears welled up her eyes and a sob left escaped her overwhelmed by the pain on her sides and the downfall for the two of them. For having to loose him.

“Princess” Criston said which is far worse for her, y/n had established for no titles between them when they were alone and yet that was all he could bring himself to tell her.

“Say something!” wailing she tugged on his armour as cirston had a downcast look. He wanted to tell her what happened, what Joffrey Lonmouth said if he could ever even bring himself to repeat those words. What was he to tell her right now? He was a lost cause, long gone until she felt like the only sunlight of a hope and he had managed to be at lost of words with his actions. The line between his honour and his love for her so grey that he held no regard for the circumstances. His silence was getting more and more hurtful for her to bare.

Y/n drops to the ground as her hand moves from her wound and the blood spills faster soaking through her dress, at the same time Ser Criston has his arms supporting her fall gently kneeling beside her. It is now that he notices her wound as the moonlight spills through some area, he couldn’t have made that out within the darkness of the passage earlier. “Y/n? Y/n! Look at me-“ he tells her as he’s supporting the back of her head while holding her in his arms. “How did this happen to you? Y/n? Look at me-“ he kept talking to her in order to maintain her consciousness.

“Th-The wedding—I don’t know I didn’t see-“ she managed to get out stumbling over her words and her voice faint as a whisper. Barely being able to keep her eyes open she could hear Ser Criston talk to her but she couldn’t focus. Tears kept flowing her eyes at the knowledge of everything she pieced together and yet being in Criston’s arms.

“Is this perhaps the last time I’ll be in your arms?” Y/n asked with a shaky breath not sure if she managed to get that out or was it still a thought in her head as Criston was suppressing the blood on her wound lifting her further.

“I won’t let anything happen to you the Maesters are going to tend to you as soon as-“

“And you?” She asked sleepily as he carried her with her legs dangling over his arms and her hands weakly held onto his neck. With the unpleasant numbing feeling that ran through her entire body y/n was so sure she was breathing her final moments. As she stared at him she couldn’t be more glad than to have to spend them with him, the extremity of what happened would’ve changed things between them had she not been stabbed. But what’s a dying person got to worry for? With the occasional shutter of her eyes she looked at him, thinking any time could be her last time. Every moment spent with him from the clandestine meetings at midnights, the countless letters, their time in the woods, the petty fights-everything played in her head over and over. From their first meeting to this being their last. He felt like the one favour the gods grant you your entire life, thinking of what they’d do to him for what happened—threatened more tears to spill from her eyes but at least she won’t be here to witness it she thought.

“Criston-“ she spoke “You’ll be alright.” Even if it were false, For their last goodbye the didn’t want to say the word so for the sake of their last conversation she wanted to tell him to be alright.

“Don’t say that we’re almost there-“ he sped up the stairs getting to the maesters the red keep had never never felt larger to him “Stay with me please y/n keep your eyes open.”

—

The maester and the healers worked on the princess right after Ser Criston brought her to them telling them he found her by the gates of the great hall. The wedding celebrations were put to an end with what went down the night of the feast and the princess’ condition as well. The first day she was brought in was the most difficult since the Maesters reported excessive case of blood loss but she made into a stable phase nonetheless. The family kept checking in on her repeatedly when the maesters weren’t working but Rahaenyra didn’t leave her side the entire time. Y/n was out for about two nightfalls until the sun rays on the third one lifted with her eyelids.

Rahaenyra rushed to her side as y/n shifted in her bed, “Sister” she cooed getting y/n’s attention out of her slumber. Not yet able to answer her exactly but y/n heard her older sister call her. Fluttering her eyelids her vision finally cleared to find herself very much alive and in her own bed.

“Rahaenyra?” She responded to make sure it was her sister present by her side and it wasnt some sort of trickery her brain pulled on her.

“Y/n!” Standing up by her bedside with a sigh of relief “I’ll go call the maesters!” Rahaenyra said rushing out of her chambers before y/n could ask her anything or get used to the surroundings again.

The Maesters did the usual checking up on her wound, changing the linen placed on the stab wound and advised her for her diet and the what nots. Y/n was to disregard them either ways. Sadly she could not sit up without help yet, though the maesters advised not to do so y/n asked her maids to help her up. I’ve been lying in bed for years it seems she reasoned.

Later Rahaenyra sat by her bedside across her, stress less after days. She told y/n about their father visiting her often and his given condition worsened as well but he refused to sleep without checking up on her once. Rahaenyra kept telling y/n the most overlooking details of what followed after her wedding but it pained y/n to not ask the obvious. From what she remembered she considered looking into Ser Criston’s dark eyes was her last sight of the world.

She didn’t know the right words to ask Rahaenyra about Ser cirston without being obvious, she was her older sister after all “How did father react to the wedding turmoil?” Y/n asked plainly, trying to come off subtle.

“Father has been rather ill and occupied since what happened to you, Laenor’s well…grieving what happened with Ser Joffrey was quite unfortunate.” Rahaenyra stated fidgeting through her fingers, y/n knew of Laenor’s preferences she was the one who suggested for Rahaenyra to propose the deal within their marriage.

“Ser Joffrey?”

“Ser Criston and him got into some sort of disagreement it is believed that’s what caused the chaos on the wedding day-father pardoned Ser Criston since the maesters said it would’ve been impossible to save you had it not been Ser Criston who rushed you here.” As Rahaenyra told her about him y/n’s heart felt a lot lighter, with the relief that rushed through her she had to act unbothered to her sister. Y/n wished to tell her about the two of them eventually and she was going to, she trusted Rahaenyra more than anyone she had ever known. At first it was a secretive thing just for her and Ser Criston to share later her sister seemed to have bigger responsibilities and y/n didn’t feel like adding to hers, at least for a while.“Oh?” Y/n cleared her throat nodding uninterestingly. “And where might everyone else be?”

“Ser Criston hasn’t left the doors of your bedchambers ever since the wedding, You were stabbed quite badly it seems do you recall who it was?” Rahaenyra hated the last two days having to spend them between the constant clash of her y/n’s life. Even if it was a commoner or a royal escort she wanted them to pay for what almost thundered upon her dear sister’s life.

“There were so many people running around all I can remember is trying to get away apparently I can’t even recall a distinct face in the crowd!” Y/n said catching her forehead in her hands facepalming. She was in recovery for the stab wound in her torso yet it hurt even to function thinking.

“Don’t fret sister Daemon’s on the committee to find whoever might be responsible.” Her older sister offered her a smile as y/n let out a grunt.

“Uncle doesn’t have rather civil ways does he?” Y/n joked letting out a small huff as Rahaenyra stood from her side.

“I suppose so—since you are doing better I’ve to go inform father if he’s awake this early but you rest till then.” She said as she already strolled across the room “If you need anyth-“

“Could you perhaps send Ser Criston in I would like to thank him for saving my life?” Y/n asked with a more typical manner than usual in order to maintain the secret quite secret.

Rahaenyra nodded as she walked past the door, in a few moments Ser Criston stepped inside as y/n shifted in her place. All of his prayers were answered earlier that morning when Rahaenyra asked for the maesters because y/n was awake. Two days he thought of y/n’s state and now when she’s finally awake in front of him he was lost at words again. “Princess” he greeted forcing his posture to look away from her.

For a while y/n stared at him the same way, not lost at words but unsure where to begin “What happened the night of the wedding Ser Criston?” She asked him again with the same calm tone she had that night but a brisk unsureness lingered her voice.

“I was on duty princess-“ he hesitated to say more, he didn’t want to repeat the inappropriate exchange with Ser Joffrey. The agitating vulgarity his words held for y/n, Criston wished not to acknowledge those to her.

“And?” Y/n asked again on the verge of tears, her father might have pardoned Ser Criston but it was yet to see for her if he would confront her. Tell her the truth, on the basis that the pair always trusted one another to share everything. Had he done that irrevocable damage that he could not even tell her? “Is it that you can’t tell me or you don’t wish to?”

Yet unmoved Criston said nothing. He couldn’t even bring himself to look her in the eyes. Y/n felt as though her words didn’t even reach him, he neglected all her pleas to be enlightened. With the will to be heard in any way she chose to walk up to him, getting out of her bed as she tried standing up the linen by her stab wound shifted and the throbbing pain from the wound waved through her body. Wincing at the pain, y/n lost her balance yet close to the bed. Almost instinctively Ser Criston rushed to her side helping her settle back into the bed.

“Be careful y/n” he told her worriedly checking if the the placed linens on the wounds hadn’t misplaced. Kneeling next to her bedside he realised how close they were again. Finally looking up at her face that was facing away from him it reminded him of the night where he held her in his arms as her blood pooled through her dress, rushing as she’d made up her mind of it being their last goodbye. He remembered how much he thought of never wanting to loose her, if the choice given he would make the selfish choice and choose to leave the world before her. Because that’s how painfully miserable it was to imagine ever loosing her. And now that he did have her well and right in front of him he had caused to upset her he thought. “Y/n” he asked her to face him but she sniffled looking right away from him. Given that didn’t work he gently held her hands in his, “I have sworn to protect the honour of your house, as a knight of your Kingsguard causing the havoc that I did at the wedding is not advised of me. I crossed a line with what happened with Joffrey Lonmouth-I’m aware in other circumstances I would’ve been stripped off my titles but if someone were to ever question your honour, speak of you in an ill manner I wouldn’t think twice to disregard my duties or virtues-for you.” He told her as their intent gaze matched each other’s. Tears still prickled y/n’s eyes but this time with the love he’d shown to her, she wanted to hold the love his words and his eyes held for her forever.

Closing the gap between the two of them y/n leaned in brushing her lips against his. He caressed the sides of her face smiling into the kiss hoping that this remains for always.

“I love you.” Y/n told him pulling away from there kiss as their foreheads touched.

“And I you.”

—

Requests for all hotd characters are open <3

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated please let me know what you think about this!!!

ALSO drinking water rn is actually pretty mandatory go drink water rn love you mwah

#ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #Ser Criston Cole x y/n #ser criston cole x you #ser criston cole fanfiction #ser criston cole imagine #fabien frankel #hotd fanfics #house of the dragon fanfics #hotd fanfiction

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mistreatedangel · 1 year

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— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

❝ a collection of random shows and movies i love to write for. nothing wrong with a little imagination. enjoy my loves. ❞

enjoy the show babes.

— 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐓

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 1 year

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Our Great Glory (Fashioned for Love pt. 2)

Summary: You shouldn’t be gravitating towards each other the way you do, but you cannot help seeing Criston everywhere you go.

Notes: Yay part 2!!! There’s a lot of angst, but I’ve decided to give them a happy ending (even if it might be ooc). Kudos to everyone who has recognized the quote atp!

hmu to be added to a taglist of mine!

Warnings: angst, close and suffocating crowds, aegon is his own warning, so is ser criston

Masterlist | Part 1 | requests are OPEN!

It was dank in the brothel, as it always was after a long night of men coming in and seeking pleasure. You hated the reek of sweet and sex that permeated the walls, making it into your bedroom and impossible for you to escape your profession.

There was always something disgusting or disturbing in each room that you had to clean, and you felt for the whores that had to endure through these things in the first place. All you wanted was to finish your job and then go out in search for a bowl of brown.

Your cleaning was interrupted by the madam standing in the doorway.

“What is it?” you asked.

“There’s people at the door. Go take care of them, I need to look after Janei for a bit, she had a rough night.”

You nodded, leaving your cleaning supplies where they were and wiping your hands on your apron. Quickly, you took the stairs down to the entrance, opening the door.

On the other side stood the prince and-

No. Not him. Not after he had left you behind with nothing but a bag of coin. It had been a message you understood all to well. He’d payed you for your time, you had been his whore.

“How can I help you, my prince?” you asked, ignoring the way your voice cracked.

“Some time last night, we misplaced our… drinking companion. Knowing that he has, in the past, been a patron in this fine establishment, we thought to inquire here as to his whereabouts.” Criston replied instead. His voice was cold, as was his tone and you knew that this wasn’t your Criston, this was Ser Criston Cole.

“If you could describe him.” You asked.

“That is a delicate matter.” Criston said, leaning forward. You could feel his breath on your neck, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could trying to force the memories out of your mind. “We seek Prince Aegon.”

“He is not here.” You replied.

“Has he been here in the past?” Criston asked.

“He does not go to this brothel. It is not… to his tastes.” You said.

Criston nodded, but as Prince Aemond turned to leave, he froze for a moment, staring at you as if he wanted to say something, before he too disappeared amongst the crowds of King’s Landing.

Ignoring the turmoil going on in your mind, you turned back inside, picking your cleaning utensils back up.

***

They stormed the brothel about five hours later. You tried to slip away as men of the City Watch pulled the madam and her whores into the streets, but they caught you by the arm, ushering you out with the rest of the women.

It was madness.

The Street of Silk was packed with people as you had never seen it before, shoving and pulling at each other as the soldiers pushed you through the narrow roads. Soon enough, you realized that they were ushering you towards the giant dome that was the dragonpit.

You’d never been close to the structure, too caught up in your day-to-day life and too uninterested in becoming accidental dragonfeed, but now they were pushing you into the pit.

An older woman stood next to you, her demeanor and stance completely out of place. She walked with the other common folk as if she owned the stones she touched, but you pretended not to notice her nobility.

It was better for you this way.

Instead, you kept your eyes peeled to the ground, even as you entered the dragonpit and the old woman left you. There were too many people, standing shoulder to shoulder. You barely had space to turn your head, let alone move into one direction or another.

Why were you here? What had happened? Had the city been deemed as traitors? You’d barely been more than a child when Prince Daemon had pulled the criminals into the streets, watching with wide eyes as carts of heads, limbs and eyes rolled past.

Was this the same thing? Had they brought you here to burn you all?

The thought turned your stomach. You wanted out, but as the crowd pressed backwards, you felt the air forced out of your lungs.

And then, they all stood still as Prince Aegon walked onto the stage.

The realization washed over you like cold water. King Viserys was dead, and if this was a coronation, war was on the horizon.

You didn’t hear any of the nobles speak, not Queen Alicent, nor the High Septon, nor anyone else as your blood rushed in your ears. Instead, you fixated on Criston, trying to concentrate on him as a way of out more than anything else.

He could see you better than you him, but his eyes hushed over a crowd like those of a watchful dog, his hand never leaving the pommel of his sword.

You knew that if you stood closer to him, you would be able to see the white of his knuckles, his thumb moving over the grip of his sword impatiently.

The dragonpit fell silent as a rumble went through the very foundations of it. Barely, you managed to catch a glimpse of Princess Helaena’s eyes widening, before the dragon broke through the floorboards with a roar.

Immediately, people began pushing towards the exit, trying to get away from the beast. Mere meters away from you, a man thudded against a pillar, before landing on the ground motionless.

You tried to move, tried to escape the masses, but as people pushed around you, you were forced to stand still. There was no choice left but to watch what happened in front of you, staring at the woman atop the dragon, at Criston in her way.

As you felt something grab at your leg, your eyes tore away from the violence in front of you.

A little boy clung to you, his arms wrapped tightly around your shin. He cried in pain as a woman trampled over his leg and you felt something inside you make a decision.

With as much force as you possessed, you elbowed the people around you, before quickly picking up the boy.

“Sit on my shoulders.” You told him, wrapping your hands around his waist. His grip on you was almost strangling, but you tried to ignore that and push through the crowd.

It felt impossible, as if there were more and more people flooding into the dragonpit, but suddenly, you were pushed forward one last time and the pressure let off just a little.

The dragon roared above your head, his claws almost touching the boy on your shoulders. Taking him into your arms, you took the boy and ran, trying to get away from the crowds. Eventually, you managed to find an alleyway that was relatively empty, where you sat the boy down the first time.

“What is your name?” you asked him, still out of breath.

“Gaemon.” The boy said faintly, and you wondered briefly if you had accidentally taken a Targaryen prince with you.

“Who is your mother?”

“Essie.” He answered, and you felt relief fill you. You’d heard that name before. It was whispered as gossip amongst the whores of the Street of Silk. Essie, the woman who had caught Prince Aegon’s eyes more than four years ago. Essie, who had a dornish paramour.

Determined to return the boy to his mother, you took him by the hand and marched towards your brothel.

The madam was already there, tending to a bruise forming on one of the women’s cheeks.

“Essie.” You said, still out of breath. “Where does she work? I think I might have her child.”

Any other day, you would have been more careful with your choice of words. The madam was ambitious, as you knew far too well, but she was tired now, and so was everyone around her.

“She works in the brothel at the corner of the street. The one the woman from Lys owns.” The madam replied, and you nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go find your mother.” You said to the boy, who nodded at you with a small smile on his face.

The sun was already setting when you made for the other brothel, its doors wide open for the first few patrons of the night, and you walked in unnoticed. Turmoil was still in the air, but already, whores were flaunting their figures.

The boy buried his face in your leg, and you picked him up, allowing him to look away as you walked further into the establishment.

“Where’s Essie?” you asked one of the women, and she shook her head.

“She wants to be alone right now.” She answered.

“I have him.” You said, nodding to Gaemon in your arms. The whore stepped around you, looking at the boy’s face, before a smile broke on her face.

“I’ll get her.” She replied, before disappearing in the back of the brothel. Hesitantly, you sat down on one of the plush cushions in the entrance, hoping that no one would disturb you. This place was more upscale than the one you cared for, and no doubt catered to even more perverted men.

You heard the doors burst open before you saw Essie run towards you. Immediately, you stood, looking to Gaemon, who had a bright expression on his face. Convinced, you handed him over to the woman in front of you, who twirled him in her arms, laughing with joy.

The whore who had gotten her from her room gave you a rare smile.

“She thought he was dead, after what happened in the dragonpit.” She said.

“I couldn’t just leave him there.” You shrugged.

Essie turned to you, Gaemon on her hip. “Thank you.” She said sincerely.

“Of course.”

“Take care. And thank you for saving my son again. I cannot repay you, ever. I’ll ask the madam if there’s still a job for you here. You could make as much money as a merchant’s daughter.”

“I’m only a cleaner.” You explained.

“Still, it’ll pay better than at any other place in the Street of Silk.” She promised, giving you a small hug. You nodded, patting Gaemon on the shoulder before you made to leave again.

Exhausted, you dragged yourself back to your brothel, swerving out of the way of the grabby men that were already underhand at this time.

Quietly, you slipped up the stairs and back into your room, closing the door behind you with an exhausted sigh.

You almost let out a scream as you saw the hooded figure across from you, but the man had already crossed the room, hand over your mouth.

You recognized Criston not a second later.

“What the fuck?” you asked when he removed his hand.

“Couldn’t take any risks.”

“Of what? Making your intentions any clearer? I understood your message, you see me as a whore.” You spat.

“Come with me.” He begged.

“What?”

“You said you would.” Criston repeated. You recognized the fear in his eyes as he grabbed you by the shoulders. “War is coming, Rhaenyra will no doubt try to claim the throne and this city will burn!”

“I know. I’m poor, not an idiot.” You said.

“There is a ship in the harbor, it’s leaving in an hour. We’ll be gone before they notice I’m missing.” Criston pleaded.

You swallowed down your fear and nodded.

“Where is it going?” you asked.

“Dorne. I hear they’re always in need of sellswords over there, and sellswords make good money.” He said with a small smile.

“Dorne?” you asked.

“No place is safer from war. I don’t want you to get hurt, and they won’t search for me there.”

“Let me get my things.” You said. Before you could make another step, Criston jerked forward, hugging you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

“You don’t know what I’d do for you.” You replied tiredly, shoving everything you owned into a bag. Essie would have to find another cleaner.

Quietly, you opened the door leading out of the back of the brothel. Criston pulled the hood of his cloak further into his face. It was the same one he had worn as a disguise earlier that day, blending in far better than a white cloak would have.

As you reached a steep step, he went first, holding out his hand. You tried to suppress a laugh at his treatment, taking his hand anyway.

“I am not a lady, you know.” You said.

“You’re mine.” Criston replied. “I can finally say that now.”

“Don’t run away when this doesn’t go to plan, or I’ll gut you like my mother did to my father.” You threatened. He nodded, grabbing your hand in his own and pulling you after him.

The captain of the ship said nothing as Criston returned with you, but as soon as the two of you were on the ship, he removed the ropes and began shouting commands for departure.

You felt the excitement spread from Criston to you. You’d never left King’s Landing, and certainly not for Dorne. You’d never been anything but a servant. This was terrifying, but as he smiled at you, you couldn’t help feel happy as the Red Keep disappeared in the distance.

A few hours into the journey, you still stood at the stern. It felt weird, being free of the stench and sight of King’s Landing for the first time. Instead, it smelled like what you supposed the sea was supposed to smell like.

Criston appeared next to you almost soundlessly.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

“Not much to see. The smell however…” you replied. Criston laughed, and it felt like it was genuine. He’d switched his brown cloak out for a white shirt, his necklace glittering on his chest as always.

When he looked at you, it seemed as if his fears and worries had disappeared from him completely.

“You look three years younger.” You blurted out.

“Are you calling me old?” Criston japed. There was a carelessness about him, now that the city was behind him. You’d seen this part of Criston before, in the cracks that shone through his armor of self-righteousness and strange sense of honor.

An armor that had disappeared with the life you’d left behind. Secretly, you prayed that this wasn’t an act to get you to do something you’d later regret, but he seemed so… happy.

Hours ago, happy was the last word you would have used to describe him, but now it felt right. It felt contagious too.

“Marry me.” You blurted out.

“I thought we’d already established that.” Criston replied.

“You’d have me be Lady Cole?” you asked.

“Not a very important lady I fear.”

“Important to you. That’s what counts, isn’t it?”

Instead of answering you, Criston pulled you in by your waist, pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

“Do you love me?” he asked when you broke apart.

“I love this side of you. I’ve never seen it, and I want more of it.” You replied.

“When we land in Dorne, I’ll buy you whatever house you want.” He promised.

“You’re such a rich boy.” You teased, rolling your eyes lightly.

***

Criston made good on his promise. When you landed in Sunspear, he rented a room in an inn for the two of you, telling you he’d be back soon.

He returned with a key and a victorious smile.

“Have you gone mad?” you asked. Criston shook his head, handing the key over to you.

“The palace guard is searching for a strong swordsman, and there’s a tourney to take place soon.” He said breathlessly. “If we ever use up the money I brought. You won’t believe how cheap everything here is.”

“Knowing you, it probably isn’t much cheaper than in King’s Landing.” You huffed, but you let him infect you with his optimism.

Still, as you stood before what you supposed was your new house, your mouth fell open.

“How? And tell me the truth.” You demanded.

“I stole a necklace from the Queen.” Criston admitted, staring at the floor. “I apologize for the dishonor that stains this house.”

“You forget I was raised in Flea Bottom. I don’t give a fuck.”

Criston gave you a lopsided smile, gesturing for you to unlock the front gate. Carefully, he pushed the wooden door open, closing it behind you as you took in the grandeur.

“This is a manse, not a house.” You laughed, staring at the garden that bloomed around you. Terracotta tiles lined the path in front of you, leading to the house that was apparently yours.

“It’s not furnished yet.” Criston told you, “But we can start buying a few things on the market today. Starting with clothes. We still need to blend in.”

“Yes please. I’m starting to sweat in these.” You replied, gesturing to your clothes.

“I don’t mind you taking them off.” Criston joked. You could see how much he loved this new freedom so clearly it almost broke your heart for the man that had come to you desperate for touch.

“I love you.” You said. “By the Gods, how I’ve longed to say that.”

Criston froze, the hand he still had on your waist feeling almost hot to the touch. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I swear, I shall make it up to you tenfold.”

“You will. Leaving that place saved you.”

“You saved me.” Criston said decidedly. “You gave me love, you ran with me. I’d be happy to die in your arms right now, and no man in this world or another could tell me that what I did was dishonorable.”

You found his hand blindly, holding onto him as he led you to your house. Your new home, your new life. And for the first time in it, you felt the worry about tomorrow disappear.

Criston loved you, and you loved him.

#criston #criston cole #idc if this is ooc #i wanted this to be fluffy #criston cole x reader #criston cole x you #criston cole x y/n #ser criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole x you #ser criston cole x y/n #ser criston cole fanfiction #ser criston cole imagine #ser criston cole smut

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butterflypeatea3456 · 1 year

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Yandere! Alicent x Yandere! Rhaenyra x Reader x Yandere! Criston

Requested by @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 <3

Part 1 (Part 2 will include time skip)

As the youngest child and daughter of a House Strong, you grew up further from other nobility. In the Riverlands with your dear mother who always told you ‘Play sweet, to get what you want’. And your father, who was a rather ambitious man. But it didn’t mean he didn’t look out for your best interest.

It was only a matter of time before you were summoned to court. Arriving as a could-be companion for the Realm's Delight. You were nearing the age of marriage. But before that, your Father wished to have you closer to other members of the King’s court.

By chance, you bumped into an auburn-haired girl around your age. Her fingers were spotted with red and peeling skin. “Oh my lady here, this must sting I’m sorry” You said pulling out a handkerchief. She allowed you to take her hand and stop the bleeding.

Alicent had just gotten back from yet another uncomfortable meeting with the King. Hiding in the usually empty hallway, so she didn’t have to report back to her father right away. “My name is Y/n Strong, and please let me call a maester for you” You insisted to her. Not many people besides Rhaenrya tended to be so gentle with Alicent these days. She felt a warm feeling stirring in her.

Rhaenrya was made aware of your presence before you came. Her interest in you peaked as both a newcomer to the castle. And the fact that Alicent talked about you nearly as much, as she talked about Septas and the faith. The two of you met rather formally, via fathers introducing each other. As they went along talking about matters of the Kingdom.

Rhearnya knew she liked you when you suggested they both sneak away and snatch up some lemon tarts. You had a rebellious side rather than the other stiff members of the court. While sitting in a secluded spot in the garden with a handful of treats each. She found that she enjoyed speaking with you.

It was by pure luck that Alicent mentioned Rhaenrya’s love of lemon-flavored things. It was no secret that the Princess and Lady Alicent were very close friends. From what you gathered after speaking with Alicent more, is that Rhaenrya was bright and lively. The two girls seemed to contrast each other. Not that you minded. You enjoyed listening to Alicent talk about things she enjoyed to her troubles. She always had her hand in your’s during these talks, or just in general.

And enjoyed adventures with Rhaernya during the evening. She loved to sneak you around the castle. At least a few times a week, you would explore the streets together, or sneak more treats from the kitchen. She made you laugh and forget the stressors in your life. Truly fitting of the nickname ‘Realms delight’. She paid much more attention to you than most of the other people in your life.

It was only a matter of time before Rhaenrya’s guard took serious note of you. In your eyes, he was a rather handsome man, though not easy to make conversation with. Though every time you saw him, you’d give a small wave, nod, or smile in his direction. Criston never took serious notice of the Ladies in court, not that any members took notice of him. A Dornish knight and guard of the Princess. But you made an effort to know him. As distant and bordering on cold as he could be. And it was the start of his eyes never leaving you.

Your Father was greatly pleased that you managed to charm the Princess and daughter of the Hand. Almost as pleased as you were.

As the third child and only daughter of a lord. You knew if the gods were kind you’d be betrothed to a decent man who wouldn’t outright make you miserable. Start popping out children till your husband was satisfied. Worst case scenario marry an old man who you would be forced to serve for the rest of your life. And be reduced to womb, mother, and servant.

All while your brothers went on to be knights and/or one day inherit the noble house that bore you. It wasn’t fair, and you’d be damned before letting that all happen to you. Power would protect you if nothing else.

As the years flew by you gained a reputation as an immaculate Lady of the court. Never seen without the company of the new Queen and Princess, heir to the throne. Or without the Queen’s personal guard.

A lot had changed, new lines in the sand had been drawn, and old alliances broken.

#yandere hotd #hotdxreader #hotd #criston cole #rhaenyra x y/n #alicent x reader #yandere criston cole #ser criston cole #alicent hightower #rhaenrya targaryen #rhaenyra x alicent #alicent x rhaenyra x reader

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fieldandfountain · 1 year

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Mercy

Criston Cole x Reader, ongoing, 1200 word chapter

You are a lady of the far North. Criston Cole deserts his post on the Night’s Watch, and stumbles injured onto your land. You have every obligation to hand him over to justice, but can you really send him to his death?

Takes place several years after episode 10, when the war is coming to a close.

romance, hurt/comfort

You know you were a dutiful wife.

But your husband is gone now, fled to Cregan Stark’s war. After two years, you wonder if he will ever return but you find yourself enjoying your solitary life. You live in a small keep, alone but for your servants and the occasional village girl who visits you for a talk.

Your house was never a great one, and you married a landed knight, a vassal of House Umber, who in turn were sworn to the Starks. You do more work than the great lords ever will, helping with the birthing of lambs, the shearing and the washing of the wool. You spend long hours at your loom, working until the sun sets. You are proud of the work you do, the fine fibers you make, the beautiful woolen cloth you display in your chambers and sell at the market. You love the turn of the sunlight over the snow and the throaty cries of the sheep, though you are lonely, and have been since your wedding day.

The greatest point of interest from the outside world is the passing of men on their way to the Night’s Watch. They come in weary bands, already in their blacks to show that they take no part in the war between Queen Rhaenyra and her half-brother Aegon.

As a northerner, you have great respect for the watch. You know the wildlings will attack your lands first, and you have been lucky to merely lose a few sheep to passing scavengers. It isn’t unknown for a woman to be stolen: it is a point of pride among them to take a girl in her sleep. The men of the Night’s Watch keep you safe from such threats, with their courage and sacrifice.

But still your heart aches for the wretches who stumble along the road. They stare at you hungrily as you sell your wool. Perhaps you are the last woman they will ever see as free men. Volunteers do exist, but they are the minority. Most do not go willingly, but are sent as punishment. There are those who deserve it, murderers and rapers, but it was their lords who decided what crimes were worthy of the wall. Some might be sent for merely raising their hand to a nobleman, or stealing a wheel of cheese. Others are sent on a lie.

And you are aware that many are there merely for being on the wrong side of the war. The Dance of the Dragons, as they call it, has split the Seven Kingdoms down the middle. You have never seen a dragon and you hope you never will.

xxxx

It is nearing sundown, and you have returned from the barn with your lantern, your loyal sheepdog Briar by your side. One of your ewes is pregnant and you feared she would deliver tonight, but all is well. As your feet crunch over the ice you hear a low cry. A sheep must have escaped its pen, and your heart lurches as you see a wash of blood over the snow.

Wolves.

Briar whines, her nose sniffing briskly, and you do not know what madness propels you forward. You creep down the trail of blood toward the thicket, where the falling sun casts shades of vermillion and gold over the pines. You hear panting, and eyes like embers peer at you from shadows of the spruce trees.

“Lady,” calls a voice.

The man is clutching his leg. At first you think he is one of your shepherds, though you cannot decipher which. He does not look like Watt or Alek or Lenn from this distance. You hurry over, pulling off your cloak to wrap around the wounded man but as you near him you panic.

Black.

He is dressed in black. He is sworn to the Night’s Watch and it is a crime punishable by death to leave his post. You have every obligation to ride to the village, to raise the hue and cry, and have him arrested. That is the duty of a true northerner, especially one so entirely dependent on the protection of the Watch. But you see the deep gash in his leg through the tattered breeches, the blood running freely through deep punctures. He has been caught in a bear trap.

“Mercy,” he cries and your heart fails you.

You can turn him in tomorrow. He can’t go anywhere. You set to work, taking a knife from your belt and ripping up your underskirts to form a bandage. Briar darts about him, alternately barking and sniffing. Occasionally you steal a peek at his face.

He is disturbingly beautiful.

You’ve never seen a Dornishman so close, and the rich hue of his skin is a wonder to you, even in the pallor of his agony. His brown eyes speak an eternity, and his parted lips are as though chiseled in stone. Girls would sometimes giggle about the lust of Dornishmen, but he does not appear particularly lustful to you. It irritates you that your heart is beating faster for a deserter, and a wounded one at that, and you steel yourself and continue your work.

“Mercy,” he whispers again, and he collapses into the snow. His brow is burning to the touch. You must get him warm, get him inside, but you are unsure how.

“Your leg is bandaged, but you must help me. I cannot carry you.” He grunts in understanding. Slowly, you get him to his good leg, but the weight of him is almost unsupportable as you push through the wooded glade.

If anyone saw you, you would be ruined. You are already committing treason for childish pity. Your husband has often chided you for acts of charity or mercy, and you can feel his rage.

He is not here, you remind yourself. You are lady of this keep in his absence.

The servants have departed for the night, thank the Gods, but you they might arrive any time at the manor. You must take him to the bakehouse. It will not be used for several days at least, and you can start a fire without causing alarm.

Night has fallen by the time you have gathered bedding and a fire is crackling in the oven. He just manages to hold the broth you hand him, and drinks greedily. His gaze is bleary and desperate.

“I am (y/n),” you say. You want to tell him he is safe here, but you can’t. You will have to think, decide if you can truly betray the Night’s Watch.

“(Y/n),”says the Dornishman in a weak voice, and you start as he grips your hand. “You have saved me, and I owe you the truth, though I am sure to die for it. My name is Criston Cole.”

It takes you a moment to understand. Criston Cole. The Kingmaker, Commander of the Kingsguard, sworn enemy of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, who your husband is fighting for in the distant land. Sent to the wall for his treason, in an act of spectacular mercy.

And his life is in your hands.

#criston cole #ser criston #criston x reader #hbo house of the dragon #criston cole x reader #criston cole x y/n #criston cole x you

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targaryen-vigilante-wizard-jedi · 11 months

Text

WITH EYES LIKE MINE

House of the Dragon (female)Targaryenreader insert

Chapter Warnings - Alicent's skin picking, mentions of infertility, depressed reader-character with eating troubles.

Chapter 7- Flowers Have Thorns

120AC

The red-haired Queen's fingers bled as she continued to pick the skin surrounding her nails.

Her faithful knight stood before her, relaying the events of late that night to his Queen.

Alicent shut her eyes pitifully as if it would relieve her of her stresses.

"Prince Aegon is asleep within his chambers. The Princess' servants will remain with her for however long you wish, my Queen."

"Thank you...ser Criston." She trailed towards the end of her sentence, growing rather distracted by the ache in her head.

She slowly made her way to the lone chair by the fire. She was no Targaryen, but she found fire brought her comfort just as it did them.

She had failed to sleep the night prior, the news the maester had told her distrupted any feelings of tranquility or peace she had been gifted upon seeing her daughter wake.

"She can't birth children," her statement was rather blunt, but there was a solemness to her tone. She hid her tears by gazing into the fire.

Ser Criston stood silent, unsure of what to say or how to comfort the woman who had given him a second chance at life.

"One of the little wenches pierced her womb," Alicent paused to sniff, soaking up any tears from her eyes and moisture that left her nose.

Even the guard cringed at the mention of that night, the two distinct screams piercing his ears as though it were happening again right that very moment.

"If I had known then, I would have slaughtered every last one of them," she spat hatefully in a manner unbecoming of the King's lady wife.

"Viserys cowers away from consequence, especially when it involves Rhaenyra." she stood to her feet, wiping at the tears in her eyes before she began to pace the room.

It was one of her signature moves that notified Ser Criston of an oncoming vent about the King

"He refuses to do anything about it, says the matter has been dealt with - that Rhaenyra has been 'driven' away because of a mistake." The red-haired woman scoffed incredulously whilst shaking her head, growing more irate as she gave thought to her husband's words.

She then stopped and turned to her head to the silent knight, revealing her frowning lips and mournful gaze. "How am I to trust you? I called upon you that night to serve justice. Am I not your Queen?"

He had wondered how long it would take for her to speak about his poor show of loyalty toward her but in such a situation his hands were tied, he would have been slain within seconds by either the orders of the King or his impulsive brother.

"You are." Ser Criston declared loudly without hesitation, taking a step towards her. He would have dropped to his knees and pledged his allegiance there and then if she had commanded it.

Alicent's expression hardened slightly as she breathed in deeply, a way to stop another onslaught of tears before turning her face towards the lewd murals decorating the walls.

"You will continue to guard Y/N. Do not repeat what I have told you to anyone, including her. She's too young to understand the impacts of barrenness."

"Of course, my Queen."

A quiet thud reverberated through which directed the Queen's attention towards it.

Ser Criston stood abruptly and made his way towards it, but upon opening it, found there was no one there.

________

Aemond hid walked briskly to his sister's room after having almost been discovered by his mother.

He had been eavesdropping too closely to the door and accidentally moved his shoulder against it, spurring his Ser Cole to open it.

Barren.

Aemond felt a mix of emotions in that moment, guilt, sadness, anger but mostly joy.

He had read what happened to women who couldn't birth children, most would turn to the faith, perhaps become septas, others whores but a barren woman would be spared the grueling challenges and labours of the birthing bed.

Y/N would never have to worry about marrying. Men need offspring. A barren woman was not desirable even if she was of high status or a descendant of the Conqueror himself.

Aemond was no fool, he knew that beauty and good looks weren't the only redeeming qualities a woman should have but if beauty was the only thing a woman should possess, there was no woman more beautiful than his sister who was but a girl. Even the men at court had made unsavoury comments about his sister's silver spun hair and ethereal lilac eyes.

"What a pretty face she has now...can only imagine how beautiful she'll be as a girl of four and ten."

"Never have I seen a more womanly child than the young Princess Y/N."

"What beautiful children she'll make."

Their words in his head made Aemond frown and outwardly cringe, but he pondered Y/N's beauty longer.

He wouldn't deny that he had given some thought to marrying Y/N, ever since he had learned of Aegon the Conqueror taking his sisters as wives he had envisioned himself with a Targaryen bride by his side, it was what he deserved, being of dragon blood himself.

Even if she could bear him no children, he'd still have her as his wife so long as Mother lets him. He couldn't see why she'd object if she had planned for Aegon and Helaena to be wed soon.

"Do not repeat what I have told you to anyone,"

His mother's words rung in his head. If she did not wish for her loyal guard to repeat her words then it was clear that she had no intention of being truthful to the many lingering suitors who were eager to pounce and prey upon Y/N when she came of age, some having waited since the announcement of her birth.

She'd be married off to some old perverted, unworthy Lord to warm his bed under the pretence of birthing him children. Surrounded by strangers, and only allowed scarce visits to her family.

That notion made Aemond want to scream his fury. He wouldn't cope well on his own with Aegon lingering around the corner, waiting to torment him further for his missing eye - not that he actually had. So he swallowed his guilt and sighed as he realised what he'd have to do.

Y/N wouldn't be stolen away from him or married, even if it was her duty, not if Aemond played his part right.

_________

The little girl sat in her bed from which she only left to empty her bladder or bowels. She hadn't eaten yet, and it was noticeable as her once cherubic face had become thin and slightly gaunt.

She only briefly remembered the night prior; Aegon was emotional, which would happen frequently when he downed too many cups. Ser Criston Cole was there too, though she failed to remember why he had intruded upon her chambers as her mind was too preoccupied with her 'night terror'

Her eyelids struggled to stay open, she hadn't gotten much sleep. Visions and night terrors plagued her sleep, and they always ended the same way; with her body enveloped by a mysterious figure as she burned in dragon flame.

The door to her chambers opened quietly, but she took no notice. Her fingers nipped at the skin of her elbow in an effort to keep herself from sleep.

A displeased sigh informed her of another's presence, and she briefly turned her head to catch a glimpse of Aemond who had begun to hide his scar with an eyepatch.

His scar was healing and had scabbed up but he still seemed himself. Y/N had lost any fight or resolve after her recurring visions. She admired Aemond's strength and resilience, he always was a survivor to their brother and the bastards' cruel antics.

"You must eat, sister." Aemond said as he grasped the platter, which lay on a dark wood table on the other side of the room.

"You're going to make mother worry even more."

"Eating makes me tired," she paused before looking directly at him. Her voice grew quieter, and her body shivered as she spoke, "but I don't want to sleep anymore."

Aemond looked at her before giving her a sympathetic nod. She turned her head from him and gazed outside of the small balcony of her room.

"They won't let me see Veranys."

At her words, Aemond's stance stiffened. The sight of the dragon fleeing Driftmark appeared in his mind. How could no one have told her yet?

"I think Mother worries that he'll hurt me, but he wouldn't, he's good. She hurts me, though."

Aemond's eye glanced to her fingers, which had begun to pick at her skin. It was the same habit their mother had, and Aemond detested the sight of her bloodied and cut fingertips.

"He'd sometimes sing, but I haven't heard him yet."

Aemond would have teased her for her choice of words had the circumstances not been so grim. Veranys would shriek until Y/N visited him. It resembled that of a dog whining and pining for its master.

"I fear something is wrong. He doesn't feel close by." Those words only confirmed to Aemond that he should be the one to tell her before days turn into weeks, and she finds out then.

Wordlessly he approached the furthest side of the bed where Y/N sat and sat alongside her, his feet hanging over the edge of it.

He took her hands in his but kept his gaze on the sky outside.

"Aemond?" She looked at him quizzically but he couldn't meet her gaze.

"Veranys is gone." It was a lot more blunt than Aemond wished and as he reflected on his choice of words he cursed his own name.

"He-wh-what?"

"He attacked the handlers - I tried to calm him, but he wouldn't listen. He knew something was wrong. He left Driftmark - no one has seen him since." The words spilt too quickly from his lips, like wine from Aegon's cups, as he struggled to keep his collected composure.

Veranys must have thought she was too weak to survive, but the realisation did nothing to dull Y/N's heartache.

Y/N silently removed her hands from Aemond's tightened grasp and stood, with both hands clutched to each elbow as a means to comfort herself.

"No...why would he leave me?" Her voice was almost a breath as she struggled to calm her frantic heart.

Aemond averted his gaze to his boots and dared not look up even as he heard his sister's breathing turn to sobs.

He continued to listen to her sobs and pleads for her dragon to return to her, as punishment to himself for making her cry.

"Veranys, māzigon arlī naejot nyke! (Come back to me)"

As his sister spoke, he forced himself to look at her. She had her back turned to him as she stood out on the balcony of her chambers wailing, heedless of the guards and smallfolk who could hear her cries but did not understand them.

"Kesan daor sagon nākostōbā dombo... please (I will not be weak anymore)." She dropped to her knees on the balcony, weeping.

It felt as though he had taken half of her heart with him when he deserted her.

Just as he stood to his feet on his way to comfort her, the doors to her chambers were slammed open causing him to halt.

His mother, followed by Ser Criston Cole, ran into the room, frantically crying Y/N's name.

Giving her son only a short suspicious glance and a comforting pat on his shoulder, she stumbled towards her troubled daughter and lowered herself to her position.

She gently pulled the young girl into her arms and cradled her, just as Aegon had done the night prior.

"Hush, my sweet. All will be well." Alicent mumbled into her daughter's unruly hair.

"No it won't," the little girl wept. "Nothing will ever be the same again."

_________

Three days passed, and each night, Y/N would experience the same dream with the same voice in the same land.

Each night, she would wake with a scream as the dragon engulfed them both in flames.

The King had ordered no one to enter her chambers if she screamed, to which Alicent became irate.

"She is a child, Viserys!"

"She must overcome this through her own will, Alicent. She is a strong girl"

King Viserys had decided Y/N had grieved Veranys enough and that she must behave as a princess does so that same morning, he had ordered the servants to wash Y/N, to whom she would normally chatter and laugh with but the girl only lay limp and silent as they bathed her, prepared her hair into one singular braid and dressed her in a simple golden dress.

Ser Criston Cole stood guard outside of her chambers as the servants led her out of the room. Ser Criston dismissed the servants with a nod before turning his attention to the sullen Princess.

He was not a man to offer words of solace, but to see the young girl so quiet made him feel uncomfortable.

"Have you been sleeping better?" He asked despite already knowing the answer. He was the one who had heard her screams each night.

"I think we both know the answer to that," she muttered quietly, her eyes focused ahead of her.

Her tone no longer sounded quite so airy and sweet as it once had been.

The knight gave a curt nod as his mind contemplated some more words he could speak to her.

"It will be Prince Aemond's nameday soon. Have you thought of a gift to give him?"

The girl gave thought to his words before speaking. "Aemond will not be so bothered by gifts now he has a dragon." She did not mean to sound so envious, but it could not be helped as she had heard of his riding adventures the day prior when he had visited her.

"It is not always the gift that matters." Ser Criston voiced, and Y/N understood what he was implying. She would ponder what to gift her brother later that evening.

The Septa was displeased with Y/N's late arrival, and she scolded both ser Criston and Y/N before promptly closing the door in the guard's face.

The youngest Princess seated herself beside Helaena who had eagerly waved at her in excitement.

"I'm overjoyed that you've woken, Y/N, I knew you would." The older sister beamed before she clutched Y/N's hand comfortingly.

"Grandsire wouldn't allow me to visit you. He said it would distract me from my studies," she paused before giving her younger sister a regretful smile. "These weeks have been lonely without your company."

Y/N squeezed Helaena's hand soothingly before responding. "I missed you too, Helaena."

"It is good to see you, Princess, but you were late for today's lesson and have much to learn from the weeks prior."

Y/N did not respond as she knew the Septa sought an apology, but she refused to apologise to the woman who had treated her horribly for the past three years.

The Septa cleared her throat as a means to disguise her shock at the young girl's disregard but did not dwell on it further.

"We will continue our embroideries. Helaena, I know you have almost completed your butterfly embroidery."

Helaena nodded excitedly before picking up the two embroideries, which sat on the small end table beside her seat.

"Both of you look over your works while I retrieve some more needles and threads. It appears Helaena has used most of the threads, and you Y/N happen to have misshapen your needles" The septa turned her disapproving gaze to both girls, Helaena shyly averted her eyes while Y/N stared back at the mean middle-aged woman.

The septa excused herself, slightly faltering under Y/N's piercing gaze just as Helaena placed Y/N's embroidery in her lap.

"I noticed you never had the chance to finish it. It's very good." Helaena's words were ones of encouragement, but Y/N knew she spoke in pretence. She did not voice her thoughts though.

"What are those little parts sticking out of the stem?" The older sister asked, squinting her eyes at the tiny details in her sister's embroidery.

"Flowers have thorns." Y/N replied quietly, judging her own clumsy work.

"This flower is called a 'bougainvillea'. I saw it in my book. It's one of my favourites - I like to think the thorns protect the flower from being plucked away by unworthy people" she paused her sentence, as her imagination conjured a beautiful royal purple bougainvillea in her mind, like the one she had created.

"They protect its beauty. It has many meanings, but one of my favourite meanings is that it offers protection." Her lips twitched upwards as she ran a hand over her embroidery as though she were really touching the purple thorny flower.

Helaena adorned a sweet smile at her sister's musings and watched as her eyes studied her own craft. She was just glad to see her in the flesh, alive and speaking about flowers as she had always done.

As the end of the lesson loomed, Y/N's rather shambolic purple bougainvillea embroidery was nearly completed, and Helaena had begun a new one.

She planned to create an embroidery featuring a sword (an idea the septa showed great disdain towards) to gift to Aemond, which left Y/N to wonder what she could gift him.

He had everything he had always wanted; for Aegon to stop bullying him, the Velaryon bastards to leave, and a dragon. All that was missing was his stolen eye, but she could not return his eye to him.

"Stupid Velaryons" she mumbled spitefully, which the septa took notice of.

"It is unladylike to mumble and mutter princess, do speak up." The septa scolded before her eyes settled on her embroidery.

"Why have you chosen such a hideous flower? Your needlework is resemblant of a dogs' mess." She never judged Helaena for choosing bugs, so why was her choice of a thorny flower so hideous to the woman? After two exhaustive hours of enduring the septa's comments of belittlement, her final comment had caused Y/N to throw her embroidery to the floor. She pierced her finger with the needle in the process.

Swiftly, she stood to her feet and glared towards the septa. "I'll be in my chambers." She spoke lowly. Her eyes never left the septa's startled face.

"You can not leave a lesson without being given permission to do so." The septa retorted, taking two steps towards the girl who merely rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Watch me." She spat before she briskly opened one of the doors and purposely slammed it in efforts of angering the horrid septa further.

Without looking at him, she spoke to the knight who had been instructed to escort her to her next class. She knew he had just returned from training her brothers.

"I will be returning to my chambers, with or without your company." Her voice was nonchalant, as she walked past him, uncaring of what he would choose to do.

The septa blundered through the doors, her face reddened with rage and embarrassment, but the princess did not spare her a glance, even as she shrieked down the halls.

"Your father shall hear about your ludicrous and disrespectful behaviour at once!"

Finding her threat comical, the young girl rolled her eyes again before responding.

"It is unladylike to yell. You of all people should know that!" Y/N bellowed as loudly as she could in efforts to taunt the seething septa further.

The guard hid his amusement from the septa as he escorted the young princess back to her chambers.

[Completed this chapter quicker than I had planned. It is a longer one, I know, but I want to make my chapters longer and more detailed now that the story has progressed. I'm getting pretty invested and excited to develop Y/N's personality and relationships further as the story continues.

Remember, this won't have a happy ending, folks!

I do plan on writing multiple stories about HOTD in the future too, and perhaps some other TV shows/movies.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and didn't find Helaena too ooc, I'm not great at writing for young Helaena, but as she gets older, it will become easier to write.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!]

#aegon ii angst #aemond x reader #fanfiction #hotd x you #house of the dragon #queen alicent #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #helaena targaryen #dragons #sad #jaecerys velaryon #king viserys #ser criston cole #targaryen reader #death #dark #aegon x y/n

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ethereallocs · 11 months

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Eyes On Me- Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

This is based on a request from @grxce101-blog I hope I did your request Justice.

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, angst, swearing, and smut.

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

You were one of the youngest of Rhaenyra’s children, but you were her only daughter. In an attempt to build a stronger bond for your house, your grandsire Viserys offered your hand to his oldest son Aegon when you were but a babe. When the time came you and your family were well aware of what Prince Aegon was capable of and the menace he had become within the walls of The Red Keep and it was too late to turn back now.

You and queen were always very close, often seeing her lost innocence within you and promised her knight, Ser Criston Cole to you. And in turn he swore his life, soul, and sword to always protect you. You grew to be a beautiful young maiden inside and out. Regardless of your circumstances you were still so very kindhearted and soft spoken. But, you’d be lying if you said you enjoyed your life. You were either being ignored, by your husband or used like a common breeding whore. Fulfilling his desires and birthing his children, with no care for you wants or your desires.

You often read about love in the many book you found in the library and it left you wanting more. Ser Criston found himself watching you a lot more closer than he should and that wasn’t by much since he was sworn to protect your very life, but he was becoming emotionally attached. He would stand outside of your chambers on those God’s forsaken nights that Aegon decided he would have you and he could hear your pain and it broke his heart every time. It was something he could never get used to.

Such a beautiful soul such as you deserved to be cherished, spoiled, loved, and desired. He would find himself overcompensating for the lack of your husband’s affections. Giving you wildflowers or even just listening to you read. Soon enough he was falling for you, thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you, fantasizing about you giving yourself to him. He prided himself in how honorable he was, but you were making him question just how important that was to him.

Quickly growing tired of the same routine of being stuck in a loveless marriage you found yourself escaping into the pages of books, imagining yourself being loved and wanted like the maidens in the books. Until one day in search of new material, you stumbled upon an unmarked book. You flipped through a few pages and your pale cheeks flushed and you quickly closed it knowing a lady shouldn’t be reading this type of literature, but your curiosity would get the best of you.

You were like a thief in the night sneaking around like you had truly done something awful, holding the book close to your chest, quickly making your way to your chambers. Criston quickly following after you in confusion trying to understand why you were acting so strange.Tonight your husband was not taking refuge within his own home and you were thankful for it. You could get some privacy. Sitting by the light of fireplace you started skimming through the pages realizing this book was about sex.

You read about a man’s pleasure first, but what really got your attention was the places where they spoke of a woman’s pleasure and something they called an orgasm. “What in the Seven hells is an orgasm?” You spoke out loud, biting your lips at the description of what the act was truly supposed to be like. Not once had Aegon ever asked you did what he was doing to you feel good. Honestly, it did not it hurt most of the time and you normally laid limp while he…finished.

You were in awe and shock as well as anger. Was this really to be your life. A life with no love, not even the smallest thing pleasure. Your pig of a husband deprived you of such and in your anger and defiance you decided she find out what real pleasure was like. Opening your door with a slight crack you called to your knight. “Ser Criston…” He had been standing at your door steadfast looking straight ahead vigilant as always. Hearing your sweet voice call his name he turned slightly to see you there peeking through the door. “Yes, my Princess?” Your hand grabbed his and you tugged at his arm to signal him inside. He hesitated knowing all to well how this could end, but he saw those lilac eyes and that sweet pout of yours and he could not resist your command.

Stepping inside he stood awkwardly and you too never having another man other than your husband alone with you in your room. The two of you sat in silence, Ser Criston clearing his throat to break it before speaking. “What do you need of me, Princess?” You pick up the book you looked puzzled and opened your mouth, but hesitated slightly. “Ser Criston do you know what an orgasm for a woman is?” Red flushing to your cheeks, he almost laughed at how innocent you were. Your eyes wide with curiosity…oh he could teach so many things, but it was not his place. “Y/N, that is not my place to tell you.” He spoke in a sweet tone looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. You put the book down and twiddled with your fingers dancing around the question you wished to ask.

He watched you closely watching the way you debated with yourself. Should you say it, what if he agreed, or worse what if you got caught. Was this worth it…mustering up the courage you stepped toward him and it spilled out. “You don’t have to tell me, but you can show me. Right?” Eyes of lavender searched for an answer in those sweet brown eyes of his and his breath hitched within his chest. “Princess, I cannot do what it is you ask of me.” The thoughts that already dwell in the back of his mind coming to the surface causing his member to harden.

Going out on a limb you grab his hands wrapping them around your tiny waist and pull him in closer. “Please…” You whisper, looking into his eyes knowing that it could only be him to show her. “I know you hear what happens here in this room and it is not what I want for the rest of my life. I want to know what it feels like to be pleased and not used. Please, Criston even if it’s just once. I promise I will not ask this of you again.”

He had thought of you having you just like this, your body in his hands. You wanting him, needing him so. It was all too much to handle with his cock pressing against his breeches and armor. He was in agony what was he to do, the was treason not to mention you’d be put to death if anyone found out, he could not risk your life. It meant too much to him, but this was a once in a lifetime experience. He might not ever get the chance again.

Your hands cupped his face and his gaze found his way back to you. Leaning forward stopping just as your lips touched he broke the barrier and pressed his lips to yours kissing you feverishly. Pulling you in he almost lifted you off the ground as you moaned into each others mouths. Was this what lust and desire felt like. A warm between your legs began to radiate and the feeling of your slick pooling within your undergarments confirmed it. Ser Criston pulled away to remove the annoying armor that kept him from feeling you entirely and you helped quietly placing it aside.

After he was undressed your eyes scanned over his body. He was beautiful and his cock…well let just say you were in for a hell of a ride. He turned your back to him carefully unlacing the corset of your dress letting the garment pool at your feet. He left you in your chemise and took in how angelic you looked. His strong arms picking you up and carrying you to the bed where he laid you down ever so gently .

His hand resting on either side of your head while he hovered over you while his lips crashed into yours again. It felt like he had sucked all the air from your lungs but you wanted more, he pulled the layer of fabric up from your legs pulling it over your head, throwing it aside, finally seeing the body he dreamt about every single night. “You are breath taking…” Calloused hands ran over your soft skin fingers rolling and pinching your hardened nipples causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

He smiled at how you reacted leaning forward to take the stiff pink flesh between his lips slowly sucking. His left arm curled around you to hold you close while his free hand ran down your stomach until his finger spread open your sticky mound. He groaned in excitement feeling your slick coating his fingers already and he hadn’t even placed them inside yet. Two fingers rubbing circles around the ball of nerves sending shocks of pleasure through you. You gasped and your body twitched as he laid next to you burying his face into your neck leaving sweet kisses along your collar bone.

“May I put my fingers inside, Y/N?” Unable to speak you grabbed his hand pushing it further and he smiled kissing your lips once more and one of his thick fingers entered you starving cunt. Your sounds of pleasure only aroused him more, his cock throbbing so much it was almost painful soon another finger followed and he growled and how tight you squeezed just his fingers he could only imagine how it would feel to bury his cock into you.

“Oh Gods…fuck..” He chuckled. “I never knew you could say something so naughty, Princess.” He teased curling his fingers to hit that spot that he knew would send her over the edge. Her head dropped back and her breathing quickened feeling pressure and pleasure building and intensifying within her stomach. “That’s it, my love let…it…go” You listened and releasing you slick coating his fingers he cooed in delight licking them cleaning savoring the taste. “ohh Criston…”Trailing kisses down your stomach, Ser Criston laid in between your legs, pushing them to your chest.

Your exposed cunny made him smile. You looked ethereal this way the light from the fire illuminated your skin and showing him the aftermath of your first orgasm. He licked the entirety of your cunt with hunger relishing the taste. “So…delicious.” He words dragged his desire to have you growing intensely. Your eyes closed and you looked away causing him smack your inner thigh. “Ah, ah, ah…eyes on me, Princess.” The sudden shock from the smack sent electricity through you and it turned you on more than ever before.

“You are a depraved little minx..so innocent, but so naughty.” He groaned sucking and lapping vigorously until he couldn’t hold himself anymore he needed to fill her with his cock. He was now on top of her his cock lined up at her soaking core . “Are you ready?” You looked into his eyes and nodded. Without another word he pushed into your needy heat moaned at how her tight walls squeezed him so. “oh fuck…Y/N..” His voice shuddered and he kissed your lips slowly rolling his hips into you.

Writhing underneath him you wrapped your arms around his body digging your nails into his back as he made love to you. The sounds of your love making carried and you now knew what it felt like to be wanted and desired. You could feel him fucking all of his love and devotion into you and you wanted more. He flipped over now with you on top of him.

You weren’t use to this new position but the way his cock filled your stomach made you understand how good this position was about to make you feel. Your hips rolled hesitantly his cock hitting the sponges flesh inside you over and over causing you to buck your hips wildly against him. The coil in you stomach tightened with each thrust. He was almost close as well grabbing you hips to slam up into. Pulling you in he kissed you lips quickly pounding up in to that pretty little cunt. The sounds of skin slapping and him stirring up those sticky insides of yours sent him over the edge and you quickly followed. Coming together the two of you didn’t even care that he had just spilled his seed inside of you.

In the glow of your orgasms he held you close and kissed your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. I will follow you to then ends of the realm.” You ran your fingers through his dark tresses kissing him once more before he stood up to get dressed and stand at your door once more. “And I love you..”

I hope you all enjoyed the ride. Let me know how you liked it and if it should be continued…

#ser criston cole #ser crispin #criston x reader #criston cole #ser criston #ser criston x y/n #ser criston lovers #read it #fic rec #highly recommend #request

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itsmeimtheproblemitsme · 1 year

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Rain of Fire Chap.1~ Criston Cole x Fem!Lannister reader

Prologue Warnings- Violence, smut, angst, angst, and more angst, mentions of death, 18+ Wordcount- 2k+ A laugh escapes your throat at the retelling of one of those very tales when a throat clears behind you. Your hand quickly covers your mouth as you turn on your heel, eyes meeting with Ser Criston Cole. You feel a blush creep over your cheeks, your hand falls to your side and a nervous smile creeps across your mouth. “Hello, Ser Criston," your voice wavers, your brother laughs, coughing and stumbling when he feels your heel hit his shin. Your hands toy nervously with your dress, eyes cast down to the floor. Even though it had been years since you had last seen each other it hadn't seemed like he changed much at all.

"Lady Lannister," he greeted you, a small smile gracing his mouth.

You freeze, unsure of how to continue the conversation, hands clutching your dress so tightly that your knuckles turn white. Criston asks if you are well and your mind takes you back to the last time you met when you had left King's Landing.

A ray of the sun blinded you as your lady-in-waiting pulled back the curtains from the windows. Rolling onto your stomach you clenched your eyes shut, "It is far too early, can I not go back to sleep?"

Shaking her head she grasped your shoulder turning you to face her, "No my lady, do you not recall? Today is the tourney, your Father would be very cross with you if you slept the day away," she turned opening the closet, pulling out several gowns.

"I know Daphne, but I truly do not care what my Father wants. All I wish is a few more hours of rest."

She huffed, laying the dresses on the bed, all different variations of your house colors, crimson and gold. You pondered at the choices, the only difference in the gowns being the patterns. You frowned a strong dislike for always wearing the same colors, with mostly the same patterns. You longed to wear a different color, perhaps a light lavender or forest green, but alas, crimson and gold were the only colors your Father allowed. Closing your eyes you spun in a circle and threw out a finger in the direction of the dresses.

"My Lady?" Daphne questioned, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Is there not a better way to choose a dress?"

"Not when they are almost exactly the same, the only difference being the pattern of course," you said calmly, eyes still firmly shut.

"Well, wouldn't it help to open your eyes and see which dress you have chosen?"

"Yes, I suppose it would, would it not?" you whisper eyes opening and glancing at the dress your finger had landed on.

She placed her hand on your shoulder guiding you to the vanity and beginning to comb through your hair.

"Any style, in particular, you'd like for today, my lady?"

"No, you style it however you'd like," you say your eyes following a bird as it flew across your window.

After readying yourself for the day a sharp knock sounded on your door, calling out it opened revealing your older brother Tyland an absent look on his face as you step forward.

"Is it time for the tourney?" you question him, hands behind your back as you followed him out into the hall.

"Not quite, Father wanted me to assure that you were ready. To not have a repeat of the last tourney."

You send a glare at him, the last time had certainly not been your fault. You had somehow managed to get lost on the way there and had almost been escorted out of the palace if it hadn't been for the help of some stranger. One who you had secretly hoped to meet again. You sighed, you hadn't even caught his name as when you turned to leave he was gone.

Shaking your head you turned to your brother, about to ask him where your Father was when the sound of the crowd reached your ears. You smiled as you took a seat next to your Father, who quickly turned to give you yet another explanation on the etiquette of tourneys, how to sit, greetings, and more.

"Father, you have taught me etiquette so many times, I could write a book on the matter."

He sighed, "I will explain the matters of etiquette to you until you can fully grasp the concept, which you clearly haven't," he snapped looking down at your necklace, you could feel your face heat up as you quickly tucked it into your dress.

Before your Father could continue with his tirade Jason quickly interrupted him, making a snide comment about the knight that had just been knocked from his horse. Your eyes followed along as the second knight tumbled from his horse and drew his sword, slashing the man across his stomach. Falling forward he lifted his sword and brought down the pommel onto the man's skull. You turned away, bile rising in the back of your throat as they announced the victor.

Your head fell to your hands as they dragged the man away, and announced the next contesters. Your ears perked up at the names, Prince Daemon, and a Ser Criston Cole. The latter didn't seem familiar, but perhaps once you saw him, you would recognize him. Hearing Prince Daemon's name on the other hand made you nervous. You had met the Prince exactly one time, and it had left you somewhat terrified. Sitting up in your seat you tried to shake the thought from your head, and instead focus on the two men now racing toward each other. You gasped at seeing Daemon knocked from his horse, his shield knocked from his hand. After which he is dragged along the metal fence, you cover your ears, the screeching of his armor defeating you.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a contest of arms!" the announcer shouts as Daemon grabs hold of his sword.

You watch silently, holding your breath as Cole swings his Morningstar towards him, but Daemon dodges and lands a blow on Cole. They continue exchanging blows to the point Daemon's shield is turned to splinters. Cole sweeps his Morningstar against Daemon's legs knocking him to the dirt, when Daemon suddenly gains the upper hand, knocking Cole to the ground.

He points to the crowd in victory, but a gasp leaves your throat as Cole stands behind him, and swings his Morningstar at him knocking him to the ground. At which point Daemon stabs him in the leg.

"Yield," says Cole wielding his Morningstar in preparation to swing to towards the Prince.

"Yield," he repeats, reaching for Daemon's hand.

Daemon slaps him away and stands.

You watch as he approaches the Princess and asks for her favor. She smiles and turns to grab the laurel, tossing it to him and wishing him luck.

You turn as you feel your Father's hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stand. You stare at him, a look of confusion coming over your face, letting him lead you away. You glance back to the tourney, your eyes meeting with Ser Cole.

*** You sit in your room, contemplating if you should still await your Father, or roam the halls looking for a brief reprieve from him. For he had decided that you would be leaving King's Landing in the coming weeks. You glance out the window, the sun high in the sky to the point it nearly blinds you.

Letting out a sigh you move to your feet and quietly open the door. A strange silence welcomes you as you move through the halls. You noticed that everyone had seemingly disappeared. You quickly move through the courtyard stopping in front of the godswood.

"How strange," you say to yourself, taking a seat by its roots and wringing your hands nervously.

"How strange indeed," a voice interrupts your reverie.

Looking up you meet the eyes of Ser Criston Cole. You quickly stand, averting your eyes.

"Apologies, I, thought I was alone."

He gives you a reassuring smile, "It's alright, my Lady."

You frown, twisting your gown in your hands, as you move to re-enter the palace, but pause, "I'm afraid we haven't been acquainted," a blush spreads across your face as you regard him, "I am Lady Lannister, daughter of Lord Tymond Lannister, and my Mother, the late Late Lady Dyanna Stark. And you are?" You say with a small curtsey.

"My name is Ser Criston Cole," he replies.

You give him a small smile and turn to leave, "I should hope we meet again someday, Ser Criston. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance as well my Lady."

You quicken your pace, your face so warm you feel you could feint as you re-enter the halls of the palace. As you make the journey back to your room, you can't help but get the feeling you had seen Ser Criston before. Your thoughts however are interrupted by your strange surroundings. You look at the walls, various tapestries and portraits hanging along them, and realize that somewhere you had made a grave mistake. You were completely and utterly lost. Letting out a sigh of frustration you decide to turn back from whence you came.

However, retracing your steps made the ordeal of being lost worse. You were now somehow on the outskirts of the palace, being once again questioned by a member of the Kingsguard. You tried explaining to the man that you were simply lost and had no idea how to return to your chambers, but alas he was convinced that you had somehow snuck into the palace.

"And who are you? What business have you here?" he questions you, and it feels as if he's staring straight into your soul.

"As I have told you time and time again, I am the Lady Lannister, daughter of Lord Tymond Lannister! I am simply lost and cannot find my way back to my chambers!"

You flinch as he grabs your arm to drag you into the city when a hand stops him.

"Are you aware of who this is?" a familiar voice asks, forcing your eyes to open.

They are met with the sight of Ser Criston Cole, whose hand is now by your side, hovering over your waist. His warm eyes check you for any sign of injury as he questions the Kingsguard. The guard turns away sheepishly and gestures for you to go back through the gates.

"Are you alright?" he asks as he guides you back to your chambers, eyes full of concern.

You frown, you supposed you were, but the thought of being lost in the city of King's Landing had scared you quite a bit.

"I suppose so," you nod, coming to a stop in front of your door.

Criston pauses as if searching for the words to say before you stop him by placing a kiss on his cheek. You turn away, your face on fire, "That was my thanks for your, assistance, Ser Cole."

You smile, opening the door to your room and sliding in, quietly closing it behind you.

You smile, opening the door to your room when you feel his hand on your arm pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter shut when you notice him leaning in, your lips meeting. His hands grab your waist as you lead him back into your room, the door slamming shut behind you.

His hands find the laces of your gown, quickly undoing them, tossing it to the side, to reveal your bodice which he undoes just as quickly, gently lowering you to the bed. Your back hits the soft quilt as his lips roam your neck and now bare chest. You felt a chill run down your spine as his hands reached your inner thighs his eyes reaching yours asking for permission you nod, breath hitching as he inserts a finger into your entrance, a high-pitched moan leaving your mouth, eyes clenching shut.

You feel a tightness in your stomach as he adds two more fingers, a bright light blinding you as you reach your high screaming his name, your hands clenching the sheets as he places a chaste kiss on your swollen lips. Your face heats up as you feel him lining up against your cunt, a gasp leaving your mouth as he bites and sucks on your throat, sure to leave marks in the morning.

"C-Criston," you stutter, eyes fluttering as he slowly sheaths himself in your warmth. You moan as your legs involuntarily wrap around his waist, nails digging into his back.

You feel a familiar coil tightening as he moves faster, his lips meeting yours as your eyes clench shut once more, as he spills into you. You collapse onto the bed, your breathing ragged as he gently pulls the covers over you. You feel yourself slip into a dreamless sleep as his lips meet your forehead, the door quietly closing in the background.

---

Your mind is returned to the present when you see the concerned look on Criston's face. You shake your head of your reminiscing and give him a courteous smile, excusing yourself.

You quickly make your way into the halls and rub your eyes, willing yourself not to cry. Taking a deep breath you begin to nearly sprint back to your room, tears blurring your vision when you slip bracing yourself to fall face first into the floor.

A fall that never comes, as you feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking back you see Criston's warm eyes now filled with even more concern than when you had fled the throne room. You shove his hand away and attempt to stand, but wince at a sharp pain in your ankle.

"My Lady, it appears you have hurt yourself, allow me to escort you to your chambers," Criston says grasping onto your arm once more.

You shove him away again, voice full of venom, "I do not require your assistance, Ser Cole. I can make it to my chambers of my own accord," you begin, taking exactly three steps before faltering to your knees.

Criston quickly steadies you and wraps an arm around your waist, as you struggle against him, but realize that your attempts to have him leave you be will result in nothing. So you resign yourself to letting him half carry you back to your chambers, your head turned away.

"We have arrived to your chambers my Lady," he says slowly opening the door and walking you through.

Your eyes fall to the the ground as he quietly places you onto the bed, his hands lingering for a small moment before he turns to the door.

"I shall call someone to tend to your injury," he whispers taking a step forward, if it weren't for you grabbing his hand.

"Will you not apologize?" your voice is a hoarse whisper as he turns to face you.

He sighs deeply, "And to what do I owe you an apology for, my Lady?"

You send him a glare and point towards the door, "Out," you snap the tears you held back now running down your face in full force, "Out now."

He turns before you can read his expression, the door slamming shut leaving you to sob into your pillow.

---

Hey! It's me, itsmeimtheproblemitsme, and I just realized I literally left out three or so paragraphs of this chapter somehow. It must've got lost when I was transferring it from google docs. Sorry!!

The second chapter should be posted by the end of the week.

Hello! Thank you for reading this I hope you enjoyed, here is a link to my masterlist if you want to read more like this!

Thank you again so much, and requests are open!

Also, if you'd like to be tagged for this fic, comment and let me know!

Taglist-

#criston cole #criston cole x reader #criston cole x you #criston cole x y/n #ser criston cole #criston cole imagine #criston cole fic #mels fics #mels rain of fire

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