Aemond Targaryen X Reader - Blog Posts

love spiral

summary: a turn in conversation has you asking uncomfortable questions that aemond can’t help but answer.

warnings: ‘teach me how to kiss trope’, best friends to lovers, light smut

the leaves of the trees rustled above you as you lay with your head in aemond’s lap, your eyes closed as you listened to him read from some history book. the godswood was empty, peaceful - just how you liked it.

these moments the two of you had were sacred, buried away in the deepest chamber of your heart, a place so overwhelmingly filled with aemond targaryen. he was your childhood best friend, the person you’d grew up with through everything. you’d bickered and fought, played and learned together - you thought at times that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

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Unexpected (Part I)

Aemond Targaryen X Betrothed Baratheon reader

Aemond Targaryen is sent to Storm's End to secure a marriage pact to gain the Baratheon's alliance in the war. And yet, when he discovers Y/N Baratheon, the black sheep of her family, hidden away at his arrival, he knows that fate has predestined their meeting. He has to have her.

Warning: long chapters, swearing, eventual mature content (18 +)

Part I

Part II

“Prince Aemond Targaryen”

My name was announced as I entered the dark and macabre hall of Storm’s End. My eye quickly flickered to the round and dark-featured male sitting upon his chaise, watching me as I moved towards him.

The room was silent besides the pattering of rain against the stone walls and the click of my heels against the floors.

“Prince Aemond” Ser Borros Baratheon greeted, his head dipping in respect, though he did not stand from his chair.

I didn’t particularly care for the impertinence, but my boredom at this tedious affair was pushing me to end this quickly and fly home.

“Lord Baratheon, thank you for extending your welcome to me. You have a fine home.” The words were still and passive as I stood before the man. He observed me, eyes weary at the eye patch adorning my face and the various daggers and swords strapped across my body.

They were not for him, I reminded myself, trying to ease my posture to not be honed for violence and battle.

“It is an honour to have you here Prince Aemond” Borros replied, his deep voice echoing in the large space. “The raven your mother previously sent was persuasive indeed, a rather beneficial alliance for my house should we choose to ally with your brother instead of Princess Rhaenyra.”

He chose his words carefully- brother, not King and Princess, not Queen.

“I don’t see any downfalls to joining our cause, Ser” I raised my brow, scrutiny across my tight face. “King Aegon has the allyship of majority houses and their men, and should you too ally with us not only will you be on the winning side of this war but your grandchildren will be both of Targaryen and Baratheon blood.”

The idea slithered across me in disgust, the prospect of marriage and children one that brought a scowl to my face.

Though I did not show it, I would do my duty to my family and marry.

But that did not mean I had to do so with a smile on my face.

Lord Baratheon considered, his large chest rising in a deep exhale as he nodded in agreement.

“Right you are Prince Aemond.” He said, and I nodded my head in thanks, victory filling me at the notch in our belt against my whore sister and her bastard children.

“Bring in my girls” Borros called, his dark eyes shifting to the left doorway, a mixture of pride and uneasiness etched across his face. My lips thinned and I hide my gloom as four ladies strode in, each beautiful, tall and thin with dark hair and eyes and lovely gilded skin.

I wouldn’t pretend that they were unpleasant, but as my eyes ran down the line, ignoring the hopeful and pleasing smiles etched onto each girl's face, I frowned.

“I was told that you had five daughters, Lord Baratheon.” The room shifted at my words, Borros tensing as each girl's smile faltered. “There are only four here.”

“Indeed Prince” He rustled out, rubbing at his beard with annoyance. “My youngest daughter is… not suitable for this arrangement.” The words came out in a hesitant, strained tone.

“Her age?” I asked my brow-raising, curiosity filling me.

How unsuitable could she be that her father would deny her the chance to marry a Prince?

“Ten and eight,” He said frowning “But that is not the issue at hand. There are four of my very beautiful and endearing daughters before you, you may choose between them.”

My eyes narrowed at that command and Borros stiffened as I stepped closer, the light above cascading over my severe expression.

“What is wrong with her exactly?” I demanded, my voice slipping into that calm storm that had most men shaking, and though Borros contained himself, fear flashed in his eyes.

“She is not particularly trained for the challenges of marriage, My Prince” One of his daughters, the girl in the middle stated, her eyes bright and lip quirked as she beheld me. “ We consider her a bit… simple and strange in our family.”

The other girls giggled, hands covering their mouths delicately as she spoke and my eyes tapered, silencing their teasing.

“I will choose my betrothed upon seeing all of your daughters, Lord Baratheon, as is my right” I mandate stoically, eyes falling back to the rage and ire that shines on the Lord’s face. He looks as if he will protest and even the young women beside him look outraged, but no one disagrees.

“Mary” Lord Baratheon calls to the Lady-in-waiting standing by the door, his voice a sharp slice “Call for... “

“No need for the trouble Lord, I will follow Mary to the young ladies' chambers and return with my answer. The walk will allow me some needed time to think, I’m sure.” I tried not to show my distaste at the girls before me, but still, they seemed stiff with indignation.

I didn’t wait for the Lord’s reply before strolling over to Mary, and her face flushed and auburn hair fell to shield her face as she bowed to me in greeting. I nodded, tilting my lips in what I hoped was not an intimidating greeting and she calmed marginally before turning on her heel to lead me through the doors.

To the unwanted daughter that lay beyond.

***

“Gods, I am going to throttle Floris for touching my things. She never puts them back where they belong” I mutter, growling in anger as I grabbed my discarded book off a completely random shelf, a place it had not been before.

The doors of my chambers click open, and with eyes firmly on the novel in my hands, I turn “Mary, tell me, which of my miserable sisters did the Dragon choose as his prey” I tease, chuckling.

“The Dragon is yet to decide which prey suits him.” An amused and deep voice rasped.

I gasped, my book clattering to the floor as my eyes beheld the silver-haired, one-eyed Prince before me. “Shit!” I whispered and then winced at the profanity as I ducked to grip the book back into my shaking hands.

The Prince watched me with a wide and surprised eye, his lips twitched slightly at the corner as he observed my rattled form and obscenity.

“My Prince” I bowed quickly, discarding my book and attempting to recall how the Septa would scream at me to bend my knees lower and straighten my back. “I express regret, I had not been expecting your presence in my chambers-“

His eye glosses over the room at my words, taking in the books littered carelessly across the floor and tables, the clothes scattered in a heap at the corner of the room and I close my eyes in humiliation as his eye finally falls to my white and fitted nightdress.

The one I had adamantly not wanted to change out of.

I fiddled with my fingers, nerves wrecking through my body as I beheld his scrutinising watch, his face tensed with contemplation as he looked at me. His face revealed nothing of what he thought though, that angled and strong face a wall of impassivity.

My gaze flickered over him, having never seen him before. I took in the tight and form-fitting leathers that clung to the toned body beneath obscured by his long coat, the assortment of weapons strapped to him before tracing over the thin line of his pursed lips, the smooth texture across his severe face.

And that eye patch.

He hardened as my gaze fell upon it, as if in expectance, as if in interest at my reaction. Though when I merely cocked my head, curiosity and gentleness filling my eyes at the soft scar and brown leather, he seemed to relax, huffing quietly.

“It would seem that you were neglected from the introductions today, Lady –“ His brow raised in expectance and I stepped forward, arms folding over my body to hide from him.

“Y/n, Lady Y/N” I replied quietly and he nodded softly in acknowledgement.

“I was told that you were not suitable for this arrangement Lady Y/N, despite being of age and your sisters implied that you were not appropriated with the requirements for marriage.” He drawled, observing my reaction as he spoke.

“Let me guess” I muttered, biting back the bitterness in my tone “They described me as simple and odd, a cordial way of calling me a freak and unparalleled to them as a Lady and woman.” I scoffed out a laugh at that tired dialogue, and the Prince's eyes seemed to light in response, his body now leaning against the chest of draws at his side.

“Indeed” He hummed, curiosity and intrigue beaming in that sole eye.

***

The girl before me was not what I had been expecting.

I suspected that the fifth daughter had some kind of abnormality, a deformation that had marred her as unpleasant or made her act out.

And yet, as I stared at the blushing girl before me, it didn’t quite make any sense.

She was lovely, not like her sisters but unique from them.

Her chocolate brown eyes were wide and doe-like, intently watching me as I considered. She had thick and flowing straight mousy hair that was untamed as it fell down her back and shoulders, laying across the nightgown she had clearly not cared to remove.

It told him that either she had not been expecting company, or she did not care to impress said company.

His lips quirked at that, amusement filling him at, indeed, the strangeness of her character.

His gaze trailed lower, grazing over the supple breasts prominent below the white gown and then over her soft and curved hips and the stomach that sat out against the cotton material.

Unlike her sisters, she was much shorter and curvaceous, her body shaped with flesh and softness that went from the roundness of her blushed cheeks, to her breasts and ass, and I imagined filled at her hips, stomach and thighs.

She flushed slightly at my wondering eye, her hands clasping and unclasping before her, her restless feet rocking back and forth, as if desperate for me to either speak or leave.

She didn’t appear frightened of me though, besides the initial shock that had her jumping and swearing at my entrance, she hadn’t so much as stuttered as we talked.

“What do you think Lady?” I asked suddenly, my arms folding over my chest. She quirked a brow at me, surprised that I was asking for her opinion.

I imagined that very few cared to hear her thoughts in this place.

“I-“ She paused, swallowing as she looked down for a moment “I understand their sentiment, I have never been one for embroidery or etiquette classes, not particularly amenable. Especially not for a Prince. My sisters have excelled in that department and they are better suited to marry into the Targaryen family and bring honour to the Baratheon name.”

The words were quieter and tamed in comparison to the girl I first found when entering the room. I bit back my ire at that shining insecurity, that familiar ache of understanding running through me at the displacement she felt.

“Tell me about yourself” I demanded and she balked at that. I chuckled, low and throaty and she bit her lip in weariness. “Tell me more about what you like Lady- if not etiquette and embroidery then what?”

She contemplated for a moment, her hands rubbing against her thighs as she still gnawed on that plump lip. I begrudgingly dragged my attention away from her lips as she spoke.

“Reading,” She said nodding, her eyes lighting as she looked at the endless books scattered across the room. “I enjoy reading. And being outside; in the garden, the neighbouring villages… I used to train with my father as a little girl, wooden swords and then eventually a bow and arrow.”

I quirked my brow at that knowledge “Not many young ladies find interest in weaponry and fighting.” I say, though my words hold no judgement and she smiles slightly in appreciation at that.

“No, they don’t. And, such in my case, even if they do the unspoken laws of society deem it inappropriate” She rolled her eyes with ire and I hummed in response. “ But still when I can, when no one is watching and I have the time, I will practice archery and occasionally mimic what my father does with a dagger or sword.”

Her words held purpose, that shine of passion and delight flashing across her eyes as if in memory.

I don’t know why I did it, what came over me but before she could begin speaking again, I tore my dagger from its sheath and with imperceptible swiftness chucked it toward her.

Most women and some men would have recoiled, and rushed out of the way in instinct.

And yet, she caught it.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle, slightly off-kilter, knuckles white as she panted, her eyes wide in disbelief.

I smirked slightly, nodding to myself as I stood up straighter. My arms linked behind my back as she gaped at me, her large eyes flickering from me to the shining dagger in her right hand.

“What if I hadn’t caught it?” She demanded, a trace of anger lacing her words.

“But you did,” I replied simply, and her eyes narrowed down at that nonchalance lacing my tone.

Gone was that shy girl.

Good.

My face fell back into neutrality as I began to stalk toward her. She stiffened at my approach, her hand still holding that dagger before her as she watched me with weariness. I stopped an inch in front of her, that dagger's edge pressing into the leather at my rib.

She exhaled sharply as her uncertain and anxiety-riddled eyes observed me and she audibly inhaled, her hand shaking as I grazed my thumb against her palm, the dagger falling into my awaiting hand.

Y/N remained silent as I sheathed the dagger back in my belt, her breath a hot and shaky caress over my chin, her eyes looking up at me with perplexion.

“Lady Y/N,” I said calmly, my lips tilting at the corner in a lazy smile “ Please pack a small overnight bag with some clothes and necessities.”

She froze, lip pulling into her teeth as she hissed.

“Why?” She whispered back, hoarsely.

“Because you will be returning to Kings Landing with me.” I said, a low and carnal rumble “as my betrothed.”

***

I gaped, my mouth falling open in utter shock.

As my betrothed.

My heart was hammering in my chest so loud that it was all I could hear, all I could comprehend as I stared dumbly at the Prince before me.

“What?” I spat, noticing his eye spark in humour at the lack of formality and propriety behind my baffled tone.

“Pack whatever you wish, the rest can be brought over in the coming weeks.” He ignored my horror and trembling body as he stood back, his gaze shifting towards my door with veiled boredom. “I should go and inform your father and sisters of my choice.”

My sisters.

Oh, gods. My sisters.

I had just stolen their chance with the Prince, unwittingly yes, but they won’t see it like that.

“You worry about their reaction?” He asks, his jaw clenched, and I can’t form the words, so I merely nod in reply. He scowls, lips curling back from his teeth, “Not even the Gods could deny me what I want my Lady, your father and sisters stand little chance.”

My heart stuttered at the cruel and downright possessive tone and before I can even respond, the Prince is turning on his heel and coolly walked through my room and out the door.

Oh, dear Gods.

My hand was clutching my chest as I panted, desperately trying to gather myself when my eyes lifted to Mary, my lady-in-waiting, standing hesitantly by the door.

“The Prince chose me” I whisper, shock and horror present in my stiff body and wide eyes.

“I know” She nods, her face grave and she rushes towards me with a shaky sigh. “It is ok, Lady. You must breathe… here, sit” She pulls me over to a chair and my body collapses against it with a thud.

“Ok?” I choke, my voice and alarm rising “I am not suited to marry anyone, never mind a Prince of the Targaryen family!” I spread my hands over the cold wood of the table, digging my nails into the roughness to draw myself out of the hysteria.

I gasp, chest heaving up and down, up and down as I begin to hyperventilate. Mary rushes to kneel beside me, her golden eyes bright with worry as she rubs soothingly at my back.

“Y/N” she calls and snaps her fingers before my eyes to bring my attention back to her. “Do your list, tell me… tell me what are the pros and cons of this marriage” She beseeches with a straight and calm face.

Pros and cons.

My mind focuses, pushing out the blur and begins to flick through them, beginning with cons per usual.

“He’s said to be a very terrifying and ruthless man, I’ve heard some terrible tales about Prince Aemond.” I shudder, but she ushers me to continue “His family is in the middle of a civil war, I could get caught up in that nonsense and knowing me I’d probably get killed.” I whimper.

“And the pros?” She urges, nodding to me.

“He didn’t… he seemed normal, a little icy but not cruel or scary like I had thought he would be.” I say, nodding along tentatively as Mary does, a small smile gracing her lips “And… I suppose that Kings Landing would be rather beautiful, full of culture and experience. The opposite of Storms End.” I feel that clenching pressure in my chest begins to ease as more and more positives start to outweigh the negatives.

“One more.” She stresses, smiling encouragingly as my breathing evens out.

“And my sisters are going to cry with fury when they realise that their freakish, unpleasant little sister has snagged the Prince that they were desperately fighting each other for. They didn’t even consider me a contender, had bad-mouthed me, and yet it is I who will become a Princess.” I snorted, a giggle escaping me at the thought and its absurdity and as Mary chuckles along, I can’t help the endless and overwhelming bellowing of laughter that rushed out of me.

I bellow, clutching my chest, tears leaking from my eyes and Mary reciprocates, her slightly more mature skin, creasing.

“What is the meaning of this?” A stern female voice demanded.

The laughter cuts off abruptly at the sight of my mother’s fury in the doorway, her blue eyes glaring harshly at the two of us. Mary stood apologies falling from her lips, but my mother didn’t even glance her way.

“It seems that Prince Aemond has chosen you as his betrothed, Y/N,” She said coming towards me, her eyes softening as she beheld my apprehension. “You must fulfil your duty to our family, this alliance, this marriage will secure our place for centuries to come.”

“But mother, I didn’t intend-“

“It matters not what you did or did not intend, Prince Aemond had chosen you as his Lady wife, quite adamantly, and you will leave with him today.” Her sharp eyes snapped to Mary. “Begin packing her things, only necessary garments, only her best and some fine jewellery too.”

Mary bowed and rushed off, moving swiftly around my room to pack and organise for me to leave.

Leave my family.

Leave my home.

“Come” Mother called, her hand gripping mine and helping me up before pulling me along and sitting me before my vanity. She was wordless as she began brushing through my long hair, careful as she yanked out the knots in them.

She had not done this for me since I was a little girl.

My heart clenched and throat tightened as I beheld her frown, not at the wildness of my hair, but as she looked at me, knowing that I would soon be departing.

No one expected that this would be my last day at home.

I sat silently, my eyes taking in every feature, every touch, every smell of her as she pulled back the silken locks, pinning and half braiding the hair to fall in an extravagant fish-tail plait against my back. Her soft hands tugged at the front pieces loosening them, and the dark coffee strands framed my face.

I begrudgingly allowed her to rub a pink-rose petal extract against my cheeks and lips to bring some colour to them and even while flinching, I allowed her to adorn my eyes with the black kohl. I turned to her, my hands fidgeting relentlessly as she gazed at me.

“Beautiful” She whispered softly and I nearly sobbed at that pained tone, at that word that rarely had ever left my mother’s lips when regarding me.

I focused on my breathing as I was stripped, rubbed, cleaned and then oiled with jasmine and lavender before a few more servants came to help dress me.

Unlike my usual loose and unrestricted garments, my mother chose a dark green and cream embroidered gown, the neck low and laced as it went straight across my shoulders and back, revealing the bare skin there and my collarbones. The pearls adorning the clasps at my breasts revealed slight peeks of the flesh underneath, as scandalous as my mother could allow.

The dress fit tight against my chest and waist, hugging the stomach that was not at all flat. My mother frowned as she ordered the dress tightened, and I gasped in pain, my hands flying to the wall to hold myself up as the servant pulled the laces at the back, more and more.

By the time she was done, breathing felt like inhaling glass, but indeed, my waist and stomach were snatched in and looked much smaller than it truly was. I levelled out my breath as I beheld the way the dress flared out at my wide and fleshy hips, unchanged in shape, before cascading down in soft open waves around my simple flats.

I looked pretty, delicate yet womanly, and more polished than I’d ever been.

But I looked nothing like myself.

And The Prince seemed to notice that immediately.

I followed wordlessly behind my mother as we entered the Great Hall and as my eyes locked onto Prince Aemond’s, he frowned, his eyes falling over my hair, and face and then resting on the waist that was too small.

I blanched at his stare but quickly was saved from any further scrutiny as my Father came to stand before me.

“Father” I whispered tenderly and his eyes melted as he beheld me.

“My little girl, all grown up.” He said quietly enough that only I could hear. I choked, tears now welling in my eyes, and I did not care who was around as I threw my arms around his neck and buried my head in his chest with a sob.

He sighed dejectedly, his large body engulfing mine in a hug that was too much yet not enough. I shook slightly as he rubbed my back and pacified me, and after a few moments, he pulled back, sadness in his now-red eyes.

I wiped at my face, not caring at how the cosmetic had smudged there as I regained my composure and evened my breathing. He nodded gravely at me and as he kissed my palm with a father's love, it took everything in me to not begin sobbing again.

I sniffed, my hands clasped against my stomach in pain as he moved from my path and I beheld my four sisters.

And suddenly, crying felt bizarre to do.

They glared at me, accusation and bewilderment in their brown eyes, even as they beheld how I looked. I could see that writhing jealousy a mile away. I sighed wretchedly and bowed my head slightly with a frown in goodbye.

They seemed to pause, their faces faltering as they glanced at one another. I turned to move away and before I knew it, I felt several arms wrap around me at once.

“Oh, you absolute pest, how can you leave us” Cassandra scolded against my neck, even as a gasp of a cry escaped her.

I laughed in surprise as my sisters hugged me fiercely, and was even more surprised by the small cries and wet tears that I felt against me from them all. “Take care of yourself Y/N, don’t forget ‘Ours is the Fury’,” Floris said, tears shining in her beautiful eyes as she pressed a gentle kiss to my cheeks.

I nodded back firmly, no longer crying, yet dumbfounded and unable to speak. They all stepped back from me, retreating to the side again as I closed my eyes and braced myself before turning to walk over to Prince Aemond.

He was frowning uneasily as he watched me, his arms behind his back and his body straight but his face did not hold any cruelty, any mocking as he beheld my tears.

My breath caught in my throat as his hand lifted, steady and sure and so very gently wiped away a tear that fell down my cheek. I bit my lip, my hands clenching as he watched me and my body grew hot under that neutral look.

“Prince Aemond, perhaps you should consider your journey, the sky seems to be darkening.” My father roughly cut in, a harsh and protective glare thrown at the Prince. He looked at my father, irritation lighting his face but he simply nodded, looking once at me in confirmation and then walking towards the front doors.

I followed behind with shaking hands and trembling feet but I tried to maintain my control as we stepped out into the courtyard.

Where a Dragon the size of a castle stood, baring its teeth and growling in all its glory and horror.

“Vhagar” I gasped in amazement and Prince Aemond’s eyes locked with mine, his lips parting.

“You know of my dragon?” He questions in intrigue.

“Of course,” I say, my eyes returning back to the beast in complete awe “She’s the largest in the world, Visenya rode her during Aegon’s conquest- well their conquest, I suppose. ”

Silence followed and my eyes moved back to the Prince, but he was already watching me, an expression of respect playing on his strong face.

“Well, considering you already know so much about her, riding her shall be little difficulty then.”

“What?” I snapped but then cringed in apology at the horrified look my mother threw my way. He snorted quietly before walking forward towards Vhagar and I trailed, my stomach twisting into knots.

Never mind dying in the war, I’d probably get eaten by the thing before I even left my home.

“Don’t worry my Lady” He said, noting my paleness “ Vhagar will not harm you, not when she sees you with me and you won’t fall, because I won’t let you.” His stare held conviction, utter conviction, and I merely nodded reluctantly in reply.

“I suppose that dying while riding a Dragon is quite a worthy death” I joked, and despite my family's indignation and sighs, Prince Aemond merely huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. He held out his right hand as he stopped beside the ladder descending down Vhagar’s back, patiently waiting for me to take it.

I exhaled harshly as I neared the obscenely large and terrifying creature, the low growls and snarls reverberating across the ground and into my body. I nodded to my sisters and then to my father and mother in a final farewell.

I look away quickly at the bitter sadness that seems to suffocate the air, my eyes already burning. Instead, I place my shaky hands in the strength and solidity of the Prince’s and I’m glad for the reassurance in his sapphire blue eye.

He takes my hand and places it against Vhagar’s rough skin, and I shudder at the scale and indents of hundreds of years’ worth of life as the beast groans but doesn’t falter. I nod once and Prince Aemond hoists me up, my hands coming to grip the ropes and lift my gown so that I won’t trip.

My chest aches in fear but as I glance down, Prince Aemond is already right beside me.

“You won’t fall, I won’t let you.” His eye seems to say in a reminder as he watched me.

I inhale and exhale deeply and without too much thought, I begin my climb up the side of the beast. It takes some time and exertion, my weariness and gown obstructing me and a few times, I would slip a step and cry out, only for a hand to instantly be at my ankle or shin, guiding me back to the step.

I pant as I eventually reach the top of Vhagar, my fingers digging into the seat placed there and I use that hold to drag myself up and onto the very top. I rasp as I take in the view, so much higher, far more surreal atop the writhing beast than it was through the window of a tower.

“Well done, My Lady,” Prince Aemond rasps beside my ear and I blush as I notice how close his body is to mine as he kneels beside me. He didn’t look nearly as winded, in fact, his body seemed to calm and breathing evened from the familiarity of his dragon.

He takes my hand and helps me onto the front of the seat, his hands fixing my skirt so that my legs could hold against the sides without issue. I shiver as his nimble fingers lift the material and he caresses my legs up to my knee, readjusting and strapping a tie around the sides.

 I don’t speak, nor does he, as he ties another around my waist, the rope attaching to the seat.

“In case you lose yourself in the air, the rope will ensure that you don’t fly off of Vhagar,” He says, noticing my stare, but when I blanche, he adds “ But I will already be there to ensure that none of that happens.”

“Thank you,” I say softly as he finishes securing me in place and then with swift and easy movements, the Prince moves behind me and mounts the seat.

I hiss in harshly at the feeling of his chest pressed to my back, though he doesn’t comment, instead his long and toned arms reach around my waist with efficiency, securing a tie all the way around the both of us before hooking it into place.

I tremble against the heat of his body, his chest and thighs like fire as it presses against my thin clothes and I bite my lip as the cool caress of air brushes my right cheek as he speaks lowly to me.

His hands fall to my waist as he says “ My sight is limited as you know, I rely on my right to steer Vhagar” He shifts my body to his left side where the eye patch is and rests my back against his chest there so his head is peaking over my right shoulder without any obstruction.

I nod absently, my body still tense and stiff at the foreign feeling of him and his hands that are grazing across my waist and hips, and perhaps unwittingly, but the sides of my breasts too.

“Should you feel you need the extra support, for fear or whatever else, you can grab onto these handles here, they will keep you firmly rooted in place.” He says seriously as if it were a crash course in Dragon safety.

“What about you?” I ask quietly and his eye glances over my shoulder to my weary face “If something happens… have you ridden with someone else on your dragon before?” I question and he shakes his head slowly, but his hands grip my waist in reassurance.

“Vhagar has never acted out without provocation and I do not expect that we will find any in the skies as we fly back home. I will be fine, as will you.” He reaffirms and I nod gently, my body relaxing against him slightly.

Once we were completely strapped in, I gazed down towards my family, much smaller as they stood at the doors of our home- no, their home now. I felt my chest constrict and tears burn my eyes as I lifted a tremoring hand and waved, their answering waves back a dagger to my heart.

Prince Aemond frowned at my teary sight but did not say anything as his hands snaked around my waist and he clasped onto the ropes there.

“Vhagar! sīmonagon se ivestragī īlva sōvegon” Prince Aemond bellowed out, and I crooned in wonder at that authoritative and accented tone, even more surprise filling me as that wild beast, listened and purred in response, stretching out its endlessly long wings.

“Ready, My Lady?” Prince Aemond whispered with a grin beside my ear and I couldn’t contain the thrill that wrecked through me as I gripped the handles before me.

“I’m ready, My Prince.”

He huffed, a hot breath beside my ear before he commanded “Sōvegon!”

And we were shooting up to the sky.

House of The Dragon Fic Rec List

Main Rec List

Aemond Targaryen

@b00kdiary

Unexpected -> Aemond Targaryen is sent to Storm's End to secure a marriage pact to gain the Baratheon's alliance in the war. And yet, when he discovers Y/N Baratheon, the black sheep of her family, hidden away at his arrival, he knows that fate has predestined their meeting. He has to have her.

@blayresmuses

Love Spiral -> a turn in conversation has you asking uncomfortable questions that aemond can't help but answer

@queers-gambit

When Pride Married Prejudice Series Masterlist -> she is the (only) trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Laenor Velaryon. after her younger brother, Lucerys, slices out the eye of their uncle, Aemond Targaryen, her hand is offered as payment to keep the peace. though unexpected, she finds herself in a loving marriage, until devastating news forces her to make an impossible choice.

@blckfyres

Magnificent -> Song Prompt - "And at once I knew, I was not magnificent" - Holocene, Bon Iver

@aemonds-war-crime - Masterlist (Website) of all works

@elleinmotion (same on Ao3)

I’ve dug two graves for us, my dear (Ao3) -> The smallfolk had a saying: ‘Royce brides meet a cold end when they take a dragon lord to wed.’

Fjkkd_xo -> (On Ao3)

Cutthroat -> When Elaena Targaryen was born, her mother clothed her in black silk. She was the second eldest of her four siblings, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey, and seemed to have the darkest hair out of them all. The legitimacy of her namesake had been called into question many times in her life, along with all of her brothers, but no one would ever say it to her face. No one except her own Uncle; Aemond Targaryen.

@ultralightpoe

Mistaken Hatred -> Aemond is sure that you are enemies and stuck in a marriage of convenience 

Willing -> Aemond is a secretive little shit and you are willing to bet 

@aemonds-sapphire -> Masterlist

Bikadoo -> (On Ao3)

Our Violent Delights -> Lucerys Velaryon is born a girl. Almost nothing changes… until Aemond Targaryen begins to take an interest in her. It seems Targaryen uncles have a habit of falling in love with their nieces.

@dilemmaontwolegs

See No Evil, Hear No Evil Part 1 -> Love blossoms when you get to know the sweet man and not the cocky Prince.

@aemondsbeloved

I Would Die for you in Secret Part 1, Part 2 -> when your brother asks you who in the castle has earned your affections there is no good way to tell him it is the person he hates most.

@exitpursuedbyavulcan

The Silver Dragon Masterlist -> Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge. But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light. (See masterlist for extended summery)

@a-world-of-whimsy-5

Adoration -> You and Aemond have gotten married, and are off for your wedding night. How will it go for you both?

@thesoftestirises

The Good in Me -> If you were any other woman, not the girl who had been betrothed to him since before you were born, you might have found him handsome. But you knew better than that. Behind that perfect face and silky hair was a being so evil, the devil would run away in fear.  

@yzzart

Two Dragons, Two Rivals -> how could two people, two dragons have so many things in common including the hatred they feel for each other?

@exitpursuedbyavulcan

Studious Part 1 -> Your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince is not as romantic as you hoped. At least he does not seem eager to perform his duty after your wedding night...

@randomdragonfires

I'm A Fire and I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm -> Flowers come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage.

@justmymindandstuff

Melting Ice -> You are about to marry Aemond Targaryen. Your arrival at the Reed Keep is greeted with coldness and you have a hard time settling in and coming to terms with marrying into this strange family. But after a restless evening you can't take it anymore and go to talk to Aemond. This evening brings you and your betrothed a little closer as he lets you see behind his facade.

@alicesivory

I was All Over Her -> when the world turned their back on him, she didn’t.

The Greatest -> Aemond Targaryen and the dance told by the eyes of his wife, Lady Tyrell. 

@romanteacism

Knight Aemond x Princess Reade Masterlist

Fan Fic Masterlist

All These are of fan fics that I like

Pedro Pascal Characters

Peaky Blinders

Harry Potter

Stranger Things

Loki

House of The Dragon

The moon and his sun (Part VII - Final Part)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 13.2 K

Warnings: Angst as usual, Aegon testing my patience, smut, and fluff

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

~~

She and Aemond had barely spoken since their fight, the strain between them growing with each passing day.

He was always quick to leave their chambers in the early morning, leaving her to break her fast by herself. 

She didn’t mind, she found she had trouble even meeting his eye without feeling as though her insides were crumbling into dust, reminding her of how easy it would be to lose him. 

It felt like dying a slow, agonizing death. 

The door to their chambers opened and she instinctively perked up at the thought of seeing her husband, despite the warring emotions within her, but she immediately froze, fear rising as Aegon strolled inside as if they were his own chambers. 

He smiled widely at the sight of her and was quick to take a seat beside her, entirely too close for her liking. 

“What are you doing?”

“Joining my sweet sister for breakfast.” Aegon smiled, the gesture anything but innocent as he helped himself to the spread of food in front of him. “Where is my brother?”

“He’ll be back soon.” She answered immediately, as if she could use Aemond’s presence to deter him from staying. But with the way he looked at her intently, it was obvious he didn’t believe her. 

He knew the rift between them kept Aemond out of his chambers for hours on end. 

With a lump in her throat that grew larger and heavier with each second that passed with Aegon beside her, she kept her eyes down, beginning to sparsely pick at her food. 

“You know I never thought much of you.” Aegon began, his gaze never wavering from her tense form that refused to relax in his presence. 

She flinched and jerked away as Aegon’s fingers brushed against her cheek, her breathing becoming heavy as she fought hard not to smack the most powerful man in the realm. 

He smirked at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling victorious at the sight of her discomfort. 

“It wasn’t until I saw you bouncing on my brother’s cock…saw this body bare, saw the kind of whore you are, that it felt as though I was truly seeing you for the first time.” He crooned, his fingers tracing down the length of her jaw and down her neck. 

As his fingers trailed downwards, getting close to the dip of her breasts, she finally snapped, her hand shooting out, gripping onto his wrist tightly, desperate to stop him before he could touch her further, in places only her husband had ever touched her. 

“Careful, sister. The punishment for putting your hands on your King could cost you your hand.” Aegon warned, delighting in the fury that crossed her features. “Save that fire for my bed.” 

“I will slit my throat before you could ever take me to your bed.” She told him with a fire in her voice that only made his eyes light with intrigue and delight, knowing he was getting under her skin exactly the way he wanted. 

The door to their chambers opened, Aemond stepping inside wearily, though when he saw Aegon, how close he was sitting to his wife, his wrist encased in her grip, her face drawn tightly with hatred, did cold dread settle over him, washing away any ounce of hesitation he felt to face her and their fight.

“What are you doing here?” He barked at his brother, his face hard with a deadly scowl.

“Just getting to know my future wife.” 

Aemond grit his teeth. It took all of his willpower to not beat his brother into oblivion. 

“Get out.” He ordered sternly, though Aegon only laughed and leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

Aegon’s sharp response had Aemond flinching in surprise, his surprise overtaking his anger for a moment at the presence of his weak brother’s backbone. It seemed that the crown on his head had finally made him unmovable in the face of his younger’s brother’s rage that used to make him cower.

“I am your King, you don’t command me, brother.” 

Aemond, without caring for the consequences or the threat of Aegon’s guards that stood outside the door, stormed forward, grabbing his brother by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, desperate to wrench him away from his wife who watched on with fear. 

“If you have any hope of winning this war, it is because of me and my dragon. You are a drunken idiot that has no idea what it truly takes to rule and if you wish to keep breathing and sitting on that throne you will keep your mouth shut and stay far away from my wife.” Aemond spat darkly, jerking his wastrel of a brother in his harsh grip. 

“I am already a Kinslayer and I will take whatever judgment the Gods give me for sinning again.” Aemond threatened him, his hatred clear. 

Aegon looked back at him with nothing but disdain, hating the fact that he needed Aemond, needed Vhagar, to fight his cause. His harsh glare moved to the woman who remained sitting, watching the brothers with wide, nervous eyes. 

“I will see you soon, Sister.” Aegon drawled out the word as if it were an insult, sneering at her one last time before he shoved his brother off him and made his way out of their chambers, leaving the couple in a tense silence. 

Aemond breathed heavily and turned toward his wife, his eye softening immediately at the sight of her. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She spoke quietly. 

Aemond watched her carefully, noting that she had yet to meet his eye. He sighed and sat next to her. The news from the council the previous night that he had yet to tell her weighed on him heavily. 

She had been asleep by the time he returned to their chambers last night and he loathed to wake her, especially for news that would only upset her. 

“We are to go to battle tomorrow.” He finally blurted out. 

His words finally had her gaze rising to meet him, a startled fearfulness growing in her eyes. 

“I am taking Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.” 

She remained quiet as she took in his words, the growing fear inside of her quickly incapacitating her. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, most of them all the ways she could lose him.  

The longer she stayed quiet, the more tense he became. 

“I’ve talked to my mother.” He continued quickly, looking at her hopefully. “She has agreed to let go of the annulment. I’ve asked her to station more guards at the door. A group will be with you any day I’m not here. They will protect you while I’m gone and if I… if anything happens in battle… they will take you home.” 

Her eyes watched him calculatingly, as if she were staring at a stranger and not the man she loved. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, none of which she could really make sense of. 

Her silence rang out in the room loudly, agonizing Aemond. He looked at her intently, pleadingly. 

“Say something, please.” He whispered weakly. 

She let out a long sigh, her face impassive, not revealing any emotion. Even the sight of her husband’s sadness wasn’t enough to sway her. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” He practically begged, her monotonous voice causing an ache to grow within him.

She grit her teeth, looking away from him. “Do you really believe it?”

“What?”

“That your mother is no longer a pawn in that ridiculous plan. That a few more measly guards will protect me from your family. That in the event of your death, I’ll be free to go home and not thrown in the black cells or shackled to Aegon’s bed.”

Aemond flinched at each of her words, looking pained at the reminder of the danger she was in, the danger his own family was placing on her head. 

“You are many things, Husband, but I have never known you to be naive.” 

“I am not naive-”

“You are if you believe I am safe here, especially in your absence.” She interrupted him sharply. “If you were to die in battle, that would be the end of me. No one would take me home, no one would let me live out the rest of my days as a mourning widow, they would have their boots on my neck the minute it was clear you would not be around to protect me.”

Only a stunted breath escaped him, as words were lost to him.

He looked at her pleadingly, but the guilt that lingered in his gaze did not go unnoticed by her and it only served to fuel her anger, knowing that he knew exactly the situation they were in, exactly the hard rock they were pushed up against by his own family.

“They won’t hurt you.” He began and held back a wince as she scoffed and shook her head. “They won’t. I have to believe it.”

“You have to?” She repeated, almost mockingly.

“Yes, because I cannot take another fucking breath if I don’t.” He replied loudly, his desperation, his slipping control clear as he looked at her, his eye wide and brimming with frustration. 

Her expression changed in an instant, the hard front she was portraying shattering the moment she saw how close her husband was to cracking. He had always tried to shield her from the worst parts of him, never wanting her to worry or fuss over him.

It wasn’t often he let her see him falter, but she could see now just how exhausted and broken he was over everything that had happened in the past month. 

She suddenly thought of all the times he had held her, picked her back up when her grief knocked her down, and she struggled to think of the times she was there for him, when he allowed her to be strong for him when he couldn’t.

He didn’t let himself show his weakness, hardly even to her, and it was slowly crushing him. 

“Do you truly have to go tomorrow?” She asked quietly, the fight gone from her voice. 

“I do.” 

There was a hesitation to him, as if he knew it wasn’t a good idea, but didn’t have another choice. He was burdened by the duty he was shackled to, beaten down by the sentiment that had been drilled in him since he was a child.

He felt this was all he could do, simply because his family told him so.

She hated they had such a hold on him, that they held such control over him.

“I will come back.” He told her, looking at her intently, as if he could will her to believe it. 

She just nodded, her throat growing tight with emotion at the thought of how tomorrow could go so wrong, at the thought of losing the one person she cherished with her entire being. The thought of losing him was already unfathomable, but the thought of losing him now, never being able to heal the rift between them was enough to break her. 

He stood, hesitating for a moment, knowing he had to meet with Ser Criston, but wary of leaving his wife, of furthering the divide between them. 

He looked to her longingly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, to kiss her, to lavish his affection on her as he used to, but just couldn’t find the courage to. 

He didn’t know if she even wanted him to, so he settled for a half-hearted nod and a mumble of goodbye before leaving her side once again, feeling as though the cracks in his heart were growing deeper and deeper with each passing day they were fractured.

She remained in his thoughts for the rest of the day, as she always did any moment he was not at her side.

He didn’t see her until that night at the feast Aegon was adamant on hosting. It was more of an excuse for Aegon to lavish in praises for his bravery for their planned battle on the morrow. 

Aemond could only roll his eyes at his brother’s brazen showmanship. 

They would run out of coin soon enough with all the celebrations he’d thrown in the short amount of time he sat on the throne. 

It seemed parties were the only thing Aegon could think to decree during his reign, despite the war that raged. It was a wonder a battle even got planned with his ambivalence for planning anything that didn’t include wine.

He looked to his wife sat by his side, her expression portraying she’d rather be anywhere else. She boredly looked among the dancing couples and reveling Lords who were drinking copiously, their laughter unable to stir a smile of her own. 

Aemond knew better than to ask if she wanted to dance. He knew she would refuse. 

He thought back to that night, the beginning of their divide and wanted to scream and cry all at once for the state of things, for this dreaded feeling of being so far from her in a way he had never experienced before. 

The thought of her not by his side was too terrifying to even imagine. The thought of her willingly separating from him broke his heart and he didn’t know how to react in any way but anger.

She had barely spoken to him since that night and it wasn’t as though he was any more forthcoming in swallowing his pride and apologizing for his anger that had struck her that fateful day.

Next to him, his mother sat, sending him a weak smile. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t be forcing an annulment, he couldn’t deny that he had trouble believing her, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how agonizing it was to not believe it. So he did what he could to force himself to. 

But he knew he would worry every time he was not at his wife’s side that Aegon would swoop in and use his power to take her from him.

His brother was certainly not above despicable behavior. 

His wife was barely able to look at his family. A curt smile was all she was able to give as they arrived that evening. The only real emotion she had shown was towards Helaena, but even then it was only a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

Aemond was sure it did not go unnoticed how tense the table of royals looked. He could only imagine the gossip that was spreading about them. 

He felt as though he could breathe easier once his mother retired for the night, his view of her irrevocably changed since that meeting. 

He tapped his fingers against the table erratically, stealing another look at his wife. A servant placed a new cup of wine before her and Aemond waved his hand, refusing another cup for himself, it was only making his already churning stomach worse. 

“Are you enjoying the music?” He asked, internally wincing to himself for how awkward he sounded as he tried to engage his wife in conversation. 

“Not particularly.” She answered monotonously. 

Aemond’s lips parted, but no words were found. It felt like talking to a stranger than to the woman he had loved for years.

“Could you two cheer up?” Aegon chastised as he approached the table to fill up his cup. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.” 

Aegon’s attention on her seemed to be the last straw of her already waning patience. With a sigh, she pushed her chair out and stood.

“I’m tired, I’m going to retire for the night.” She explained and left without another word.

Aemond watched her go with a frown. The lack of affection wasn’t something he was used to, not from her at least and it was enough to leave him with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

“She’s become quite frigid.” Aegon noted, not bothering to look at his brother and catch the glare he would surely be sending his way. “Have you stopped fucking her? Is that why she’s become such a surly bitch?” 

Aemond grit his teeth, his hands twitching with the urge to knock his brother’s teeth out. It seemed the drunken idiot had already forgotten about his earlier threat on his life. 

“Well, if she’s not drinking it.” Aegon laughed, grabbing the goblet that sat before his wife’s empty seat, handing it over to some foot soldier from the Lannister army who eagerly swallowed it down in one gulp, the cheering crowd around him growing raucous. 

Aemond could barely contain his annoyance, his desire to leave overwhelming. His fingers tapped at the table incessantly, itching to follow his wife, to be as far from Aegon’s arrogance as he could. 

“Must you look so sullen, brother?” Aegon chastised him.

Meeting the glassy eyes of his drunken brother, Aemond was forced to use all the willpower he possessed to not throw a punch, removing the smug smile from his face. 

“Stop crying over your wife. There are plenty of other women here-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Aemond snapped at him darkly. 

Aegon scoffed, a multitude of insults on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of hacking coughs caught both of their attention. They looked to the Lannister soldier, his eyes wide, his face turning red as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. He clutched at his neck, his body-shaking coughs bringing him to his knees.

The chattering of the crowd ceased, leaving terrified gasps and screams as men quickly surrounded the dying man, surveying for a threat.

Aemond stood from his seat, taking large steps forward, pushing others out of the way. He took in the scene before him with a growing dread. His gaze moved from the man twitching out a last painful breath, blood and bile spilling from his lips, to the empty cup on the ground. 

The cup that was meant for his wife. 

Something broke inside him at the realization. 

He rushed out of the room, elbowing his way past the crowd. He sprinted through the halls, a shrill ringing in his ears, his mind conjuring the horrible sights that he would find. 

What if he wasn’t fast enough this time?

He had already lost his child, he couldn’t lose her. 

The thoughts raced through his mind torturously as he ran, his fear growing with each step. His pulse thundered in his ears, his throat tight as he pictured the gruesome scene waiting for him.

He came to an abrupt stop, almost losing his footing, his chest heaving as he narrowed his gaze on the lone guard at their chamber doors. The man startled slightly at the sudden appearance of the disheveled prince and he bowed, greeting him dutifully. 

“Has anyone been inside?” 

“No, my Prince. Not since your wife.”

He stepped forward purposefully, the adrenaline in his veins and the fear that lingered, causing his hands to tremble. 

“Where’s the rest of you?”

“My Prince?” The guard questioned in confusion.

“Where are the other guards? There’s supposed to be more of you here keeping watch.” He seethed impatiently, the man before him blanching in intimidation.

“I-I’m sorry my Prince. It is only me. I have not heard of any others to be stationed with me.”

Aemond stared the man down angrily, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He pushed past the guard and rushed into his chambers, his shoulders sagging immediately, expelling a heavy exhale of relief as he spotted her. 

His wife lay in their bed, fast asleep and unharmed. 

He stepped towards her on weak legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to just look at her, to ease his wounded mind. He knew he wasn’t reaching, that what had happened just minutes ago, that man choking on his own blood, was no accident. 

Someone had tried to take her from him, again. 

He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, reveling in the sweet scent of the floral oil she had put in her hair that night. 

“I’ll make it right, I promise.” He whispered into the quiet room, needing to speak the promise aloud, even if she wasn’t awake to hear it. He needed to reassure himself that he could protect her, for he felt as though he had been failing. 

With one last lingering look at her, he stood and stepped out of the room, giving a quick warning to the guard to be on alert as he stomped down the hall. 

He made it to his mother’s chambers, barely acknowledging Ser Criston who stood vigil and stormed inside. 

His mother startled at his abrupt entrance and her face twisted, gearing up to scold him, but she soon noticed the fear in his eye, the lingering fury that made her stiffen.

“What’s happened?” She asked tersely, placing a hand over her racing heart, her stomach churning for what she was about to hear. 

“A man was murdered tonight.” He spoke monotonously. 

“What? Who?” Alicent asked breathlessly. 

“He drank from my wife’s cup. He drank the wine that was meant for her and barely a minute later he was dead.” 

Alicent’s throat went tight, her blood running cold within her veins. She straightened her posture, attempting to remain composed. 

“Rhaenyra and Daemon’s bloodlust knows no bounds.” 

“Where were the guards?” Aemond asked abruptly, glossing over his mother’s comment.

“What guards?” 

“In front of our chambers.” He clarified, his voice hard as stone. “I asked you to assign more, to ensure my wife would be protected. You said you would, but there was only one.”

Alicent’s heart raced wildly within her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her chest visible as she tried hard to settle her breathing. 

“I will have a talk with them. They should have been there.” She answered, the wavering of her voice clear, forcing her to swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had grown and threatened to stop her from breathing.

Aemond watched his mother thoughtfully, the sinking feeling he had already been plagued with growing tenfold the longer he watched her, slowly becoming aware of her charade. 

His eyes moved to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, breathing out a long sigh as the thoughts in his head swirled like a hurricane. He wanted to refuse it, to not believe his mother would ever have anything to do with something so sinister, but her entire being portrayed guilt. He knew his family's ambitions made for crass and even sometimes despicable actions, he knew the way of war, he just never expected to fall victim to it at the hands of the ones who should have loved him dearly. 

“I was excited to be a father.” He started quietly, the tension in his body the only sign of the storm silently raging within him. “I knew I would have done anything for my child. They could’ve asked me for the stars and I would have flown on Vhagar in the night and taken every one of them from the sky.” 

The mention of the babe he had lost had Alicent’s chest tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that threatened to give away the turmoil plaguing her. 

“I don’t even have a babe to hold and I know I would have done whatever I could to make them happy.” His voice became stunted, anger tinging the heartbreaking words that kept his emotions on a short tether, the reminder of what he lost, what had been ripped so brutally from him and his beloved. 

His lone eye raised from the fire and landed on his mother who seemed to squirm under his intense gaze. 

“You… you weren’t even trying to keep me from my happiness, you’re trying to rip it right out of my hands.”

Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach sinking with dread. 

“I don’t know what-”

“You know exactly what I’m speaking of.” He interrupted her angrily, his hands clenched into fists as it took all of his restraint to not lunge at her, having to constantly remind himself that the woman in front of him was his mother.

“Think about what you are accusing me of, it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Alicent screeched, her emotions fraying as she desperately tried to pull her son back to her. 

“You never wanted me to marry her. You wanted to deny me her, you wanted to tear her from me even when you knew she was the only one that truly made me happy.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, her fear quickly shifting into indignation. That Island girl has sunk her claws so deep in her son, she scarcely recognized him anymore. 

“The only one?” She questioned, almost sarcastically. “After everything I’ve done and you still don’t see that it was all for you, for our family.” 

Aemond let out a bitter sounding laugh, a sound that would have sent chills down the spine of a lesser man. 

“Tell me, Mother, when exactly were you thinking about my happiness? When you tried to force an annulment from the woman I love or when you tried to murder her?” 

Alicent’s voice caught in her throat. Each word was like a slap to the face. The guilt churned in her stomach so violently she thought she was going to be sick. 

“I know grandsire’s ambitions would have retribution, but I never thought you would bend to them at the expense of your children.”

Alicent sunk back in her chair, the fight swept from her as she realized Aemond was not going to budge an inch. She picked at the skin by her nails anxiously, her teeth biting her bottom lip incessantly as her heart raced. 

“We needed to help Aegon’s cause.”

The whispered words were all the confession he needed to hear. 

Aemond fumed silently, his jaw clenching so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack any of his teeth. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe his own mother would do this to him, to break him into disrepair by taking his wife from him, but as he remembered the forced annulment, he soon realized he didn’t really know his mother at all. 

“We know what Rhaenyra would do to us once she sat on the throne. I had to protect you, I did what I could so our family would survive.”

Aemond scoffed bitterly. He too once thought his life would be forfeit once his half-sister rose to power, but the longer he thought of it over the years, the more he spoke of those fears with his wife, the more he realized how unfounded they had been. 

“You really think my father-by-law would allow that to happen? Ixtal is King’s Landing’s greatest importer, you think Rhaenyra would risk the entirety of the realm, her position as ruler, just to do away with siblings she could not spare a second thought for?” 

“You don’t know that!” Alicent yelled, becoming desperate as she felt as though her son was slipping through her fingers.

Aemond sighed and stood from his chair, heading towards the door, but Alicent’s sobs stopped him as she begged him not to go.

“Aemond, you have to understand.” She cried. “I had to do what I could to keep you safe. You will see that one day, you will see that I only did what I thought was right for our family.”

To hear her speak of the life of his wife, his greatest love, as nothing more than collateral made him feel sick, his disdain growing even further. 

“I hope you will see one day that your ambition is what ruined this family.” 

With those final words, he left, leaving his mother to sob in solitude. He numbly walked back to his chambers, the look in his mother’s eyes haunting his mind. 

It wasn’t until he was behind the closed door of his chamber, standing in the dark room that he allowed himself to release a shuddering breath, his throat tightening as it all caught up to him. 

His mother’s betrayal was like a dagger to the stomach, letting the wound bleed until there was nothing left of him. 

His gaze fell on his sleeping wife and the dam broke. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized how close he had been to losing her and by the hands of his own family. It was enough to undo him completely. 

He knelt at her bedside, unable to stop the tears that fell. His lip trembled, shaking breaths escaping him as he clutched to her hand. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered weakly. 

She stirred and blinked her weary eyes open, frowning immediately as she noticed the tears her husband was shedding.

“Aemond? What happened?” She asked tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow as she intertwined their fingers. 

“I didn’t protect you.” He whispered, his voice tight with tearful emotion.

“What are you talking about?”

“The second this war started, I should’ve done something. I knew you weren’t safe here, I knew you weren’t safe with them and I didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, issa prūmia, please forgive me.” 

“Aemond…” She was stunned, watching as her husband, the stoic man she knew, broke into pieces before her. 

She laid her hand over his that held her other tightly, caressing gentle touches over his hardened knuckles. 

“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” She assured him, but the look on his face remained tortured. 

He sniffled and wiped his tears forcefully, tearing his hand from hers and he got to his feet, making his way across their chambers to her wardrobe. 

“I’m getting you out of here.” He spoke, his voice now full of determination.

“What?”

“It’s not safe for you here. You’re going back to Ixtal.”

Her heart jumped in her chest, it was everything she had wanted since this war started, but she couldn’t ignore the lingering dread that settled within her like lead, realizing what it would mean for them. The thought of separating from him was unbearable. 

“I’m not leaving without you.” She spoke forcefully, standing from the bed, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her husband. 

She knew it was a big ask to leave his family and his home for her, but circumstances were different now. She had already lost so much, she wasn’t going to lose him too, she certainly wasn’t going to let his family take advantage of her absence and shackle him to another woman. 

Aemond swallowed thickly and stepped towards her, his hands cradling her face gently as he revered her with nothing but adoration, his decision made in a split second.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side.” 

Her face softened, emotions swelling, tightening her throat. 

“What happened?” She asked quietly. His change of heart was unexpected and the state of him she had woken to was more than concerning. It wasn’t often he let himself feel his emotions, except anger of course, and it was upsetting to say the least.

Aemond seemed to shudder at her question, his eyes holding a faraway look that seemed tortured. 

“Not yet.” He said, his voice barely audible. He would tell her everything once they were safe, once they were far from King’s Landing and his scheming family. “Pack your things, we need to be quick and leave before the light.” 

She nodded and rushed to her wardrobe, hauling out as many dresses as she could carry and tossed them on the bed. A sudden realization came to her, igniting her worries once more.

“Wait, Aemond.” She spoke up frantically. “Helaena and the children. We can’t leave without them, they’re not safe here.”

Aemond’s entire being softened. Helaena and her children were the only ones, outside of her, that he cared about above anyone else and her care for them, her willingness to accept them as her own warmed his heart, only confirming to him that he was making the right decision.

His mother’s betrayal stung, it festered in him like a disease that threatened to spread and ruin him, but he pushed it down. He would feel the heartbreak when they were safe in Ixtal.

It didn’t take long for them to pack their meager belongings. They didn’t need to take much, there wasn’t much of anything with sentimental value he would miss. He just needed his wife at his side. 

They traveled through the hidden halls, quickly coming to the entrance of Helaena’s room. Aemond pushed the entrance open slowly, wincing at the noise, hoping he wasn’t about to scare his sweet sister.

He was soon shocked, flinching back as he met the awaiting eyes of his sister, her children cradled to her sides, bags at their feet.

“Is it time?” 

“What- Helaena…”

“We are leaving, are we not?” 

“Well… yes, but-”

“Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste any more time.” She smiled warmly, placing her hand on her brother’s cheek briefly before moving towards her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug, her gratitude overflowing from her. “I knew you would be our saving grace.”

The whispered words of the Princess left her shocked. She had to shake herself of her surprise and hauled Jaehaerys into her arms. With Helaena carrying Jaehaera, their bags secured with Aemond leading them, they were on their way. His hand fluttered towards the sword at his hip every so often, senses sharp and at the ready for anything and anyone that dared to stop them.

It didn’t take long to get to the Dragon Pit.

“I’ll meet you outside with Vhagar.” Aemond assured her and with one last squeeze of her hand, he was gone. 

Her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating with nerves as she helped strap the children’s bags to Dreamfyre’s saddle. Once Helaena was seated on her dragon, she helped Jaehaera up and strapped her in. 

“It’s alright, my Darlings.” Helaena cooed to her children who were quiet and sullen with fright. “We’re going to a beautiful place where we’ll be safe.” 

“Is father coming too?” Jaehaera asked quietly and Helaena shook her head, almost seemingly delighted to share the news of the absence of their father. But the child just nodded and whispered ‘good’. 

She repressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think of the neglect Aegon had forced on his children. She swept Jaehaerys up into her arms once again, her heart aching as he nuzzled into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

“You like to swim, don’t you, Jae?”

He nodded against her and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair soothingly.

“I know where to find the most beautiful beaches. You’ll get to swim in the bluest water you’ve ever seen where the fish swim between your toes and jump out of the water to greet you.”

“Will you show me?” 

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll take you there myself.” 

With the assurance, he loosened his grip on her, more at ease. A distant roar caught their attention, the familiar sound of Vhagar. With one last look to Helaena, silently assuring her that she would keep her son safe, she slipped out of the Dragon Pit, hurrying her way up the hill where Vhagar rested. 

Her hope spiked, her fear receding slightly as she spotted Aemond atop his dragon. Their escape was imminent. No one would stop them now, not when they had Vhagar to face. 

She helped Jaehaerys climb up into the waiting arms of his uncle who strapped him in carefully. She climbed, her movements familiar use, not something she’d ever thought she would say in relation to dragon riding, but Aemond had been insistent over the years of his two favorite girls bonding. 

She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she couldn’t have been more thankful. 

As she settled herself, her heart sped, uncertainty suddenly overtaking her adrenaline, the gravity of their actions soon crashing into her overwhelmingly. She placed her hand over Aemond's, stopping him before he could grasp the reins. 

“Aemond,” She spoke, her voice tight as her mind raced. “You have to be sure, entirely sure, that this is what you want.” 

He sighed, as if disappointed by her hesitation, believing he would ever second guess the decision to run away with her, to keep her safe. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured her, tilting her chin with his finger so she was looking at him head on. “I promised you, didn’t I? We’re going to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.” 

His words, which were once said in the comfort of their sheets, their love nothing more than a secret from the rest of the realm, soothed every ounce of insecurity that had crept through her veins. 

She breathed out in relief and leaned forward, kissing him swiftly. 

Dreamfyre’s roar broke them apart and they watched as Helaena took flight with her daughter. 

“Are you ready, Jae?” 

The child nodded eagerly to his uncle and leaned back into his aunt’s arms, holding tightly to her as the mighty dragon below them rumbled and stretched her wings, taking to the skies with ease. 

The moonlight was their only guide in the dead of night. It wasn’t until they settled high in the sky, covered by the clouds, easy on their course, did she finally let herself relax. She leaned back into the strong chest behind her, her husband’s hand leaving the reins to wrap around her, securing herself to his front, his forehead rested against hers, a look of nothing but pure contentment on his face, a far cry from the scowl that had been securely etched onto his features for months. 

She knew his decision to leave could not have been easy and she was terrified to hear what had happened, what the final straw was to get him to agree to leave the place he called home, to leave his mother behind.

She leaned into him, as if needing his comfort from the mere thought of what transpired to make him turn his back on the woman that raised him.

Aemond held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her, his eye falling closed in fulfillment at the feel of her skin under his fingertips. Even the brush of her hair against his face in the wind was the greatest thing he could have ever felt. 

She was all he needed. 

A weight was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easier the farther they flew from King’s Landing. His family’s schemes, his mother’s betrayal, Aegon’s threats, they all seemed to melt away as the distance grew between them. 

The sun was just beginning to rise as they spotted the shores of Ixtal. 

Warmth bloomed within her at the sight of her home, knowing she was only minutes from reuniting with her family. 

She felt jittery, anxious excitement taking over every inch of her as they landed on the shores. A slew of guards were already waiting for them on the shores, the dragons having been spotted in the distance and causing mayhem in fear of a potential attack. 

Among the pointed spears and swords, she spotted her father’s face. She breathed shakily, eagerly undoing the straps around her waist, charging down from Vhagar’s back despite Aemond’s protests. 

She didn’t care for safety, she didn’t care for decorum. She charged towards the group of guards who soon lowered their weapons at their leader’s cries for a cease. Her father pushed the guards out of his way, coming to the front of the blockade, the sight of her causing tears to brim in his eyes. 

Barely a second later, she was in his arms, the force of her embrace almost knocking him off his feet. 

“You’re here.” He breathed out, holding tightly to his beloved daughter with a force that could only be portrayed by that of a father with a heavy heart. “How are you here? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, we thought-”

His words stopped as he noticed Aemond’s presence over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the young child in his arms, his confusion only furthered as Princess Helaena stepped forward, another child in her arms. 

“You brought an entourage?”

Her face turned serious, worrying him immediately.

“Father, we… we’re seeking refuge from King’s Landing. It’s no longer safe for us there.”

He looked at his daughter incredulously, sensing there would be a long story to come. He nodded stiffly, having trouble tearing his eyes away from his daughter, his little girl he had been fraught with worry over the past moons.

A yell of her name sounded, catching their attention. Her face smoothed out, her worry disappearing as a bright smile grew. 

“Mother!” She called out, racing past her father and the litany of guards still standing at attention to seek out her mother who had raced out of the palace at the sight of the dragons, her arms open and ready for her daughter. 

Aemond watched, an ease settling over him as he saw her smile again, that bright, wondrous sight that could only assure him he had done the right thing. 

The Lord of Ixtal stepped forward, sending a polite smile to Helaena and eyeing the children with a soft gaze.

“Come, you must be exhausted from your journey.” He motioned them forward, allowing Helaena to lead, hand in hand with her twins, the two men settling in a matching pace side by side. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

Aemond looked at the man beside him questioningly. 

“I knew you would keep my daughter safe. I never had any doubt.”

The young prince seemed to deflate under the praise. The guilt that had been festering within him unfurled, overtaking him so powerfully, he stopped walking.

“I didn’t- there was… it was too close-”

“Aemond,” His father-by-law placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “You’re here. You brought her home, safe and sound.”

“But I couldn't-”

“You are one man. You cannot fight the entire world of enemies alone, especially not when they are your own family.”

Aemond’s eye widened, looking perplexed by his words. The Lord just smiled sadly and shook his head.

“I had my suspicions from the start. I knew they didn’t want you to marry her, I knew their ambitions would become too great.”

Aemond just nodded stiffly, the words getting caught in his throat, not yet able to voice just what his family, his own mother, had done. 

“You’re a good man, Aemond. I hope you’ll be happy here.” 

“I will be.” He spoke, his voice laced with conviction, as if there were no doubts in his mind about his life now that he was standing on the sandy beaches of Ixtal, his future no longer out of his own control.

They stepped into the palace, his eyes finding her immediately. Her mother left her daughter’s side, coming towards him, a tearful smile gracing her features. 

Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you.” She whispered to him, the words and the affectionate gesture plucking at his weakest points. The affection of a mother, a caring and kind soul, reminding him of what he had just lost, what he had purposefully stepped away from.

But it had never been like this. Alicent had never held him this tight, he had never felt love from his mother in a single touch, not like he was now from a woman he had met only a handful of times before. 

“You three look like you have hiked through the seven hells and back. Why don’t you rest for a while longer, we can talk later.” Her mother suggested. 

Helaena was guided to her new chambers for her and the children, her smile wide, no trace of derision from her escape. She seemed all too happy to be back to the place she had fallen in love with in that first visit years ago.

Aemond let his wife lead him to her old childhood chambers. 

He stepped in, taking in a deep breath, letting the events of the night roll off his back. He looked at the dried flowers and childhood drawings that lined the walls, some hers, some her siblings that had been gifted to her years ago that she couldn’t bear to part with. 

Her sentimental heart never failed to warm his own. 

As he set their bags down, his gaze fell to the view of the horizon from the balcony, picturing the chaos that would be ensuing across the sea in King’s Landing as their absence was discovered. 

He thought of his mother and the state she would be in once she realized both he and Helaena were gone, her grandchildren safe from their clutches. 

He let out a shaking breath and barely a second later, arms were winding around his waist. He hummed a grateful sounding noise, placing a hand over her clasped ones at his front.

“What are you thinking about?”

“They’ll send search parties.” He mused, his mind beginning to conjure the many ways his brother and grandsire could ruin the peace they tried to find for themselves.

“My father will handle it.” She assured him. “Besides, no one would dare try to force Vhagar away from here.” 

He smiled, his eyes falling to his mighty dragon that was basking in the sun, her wings fluttering in the waves that crashed onto the shore, her rumbles of contentment echoing up to their room. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, the warm feeling in chest growing at the sight of her, the ease she now carried around her.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile growing. “I think I should be saying that to you.”

He had a million things he wanted to say but no idea how to say them. So he settled for kissing her softly, hoping it conveyed every ounce of love and adoration he held for her, the thanks he wanted to bestow upon her for saving his life, for saving his sister and her children. 

He pulled away regretfully, letting his forehead rest against hers as he thought over how close he had come to losing her just hours ago, causing tears to brim in his eye.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, emotion welling his throat yet again. 

Her brows furrowed, not used to seeing him break as he was now, as he did just hours ago. 

“I haven’t been a good husband.” 

“Aemond-”

“I haven’t.” He spoke again, interrupting her attempt to soothe him. “I didn’t listen, I thought I could fight against everything alone. I pushed you away and I hurt you.” 

She watched him carefully, noting the guilt that seemed to seep out of every inch of him. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it all, I swear.” He whispered frantically, as if he was desperate for her to believe him, as if she had any doubt. 

“What happened?” She questioned again, looking at him worriedly, but he shook his head, pushing the thought of this mother, of that man choking on his own blood, from his mind. 

“Not yet.” He whispered again, not yet ready to reveal to her the threat on her life, not wanting to break the peace they’d finally found after months of such heart-breaking tension. 

She was in his arms, they were safe, his sister and her children were safe. That was all that mattered. 

He kissed her again, this time firmer, more sure of himself. After tumultuous weeks of grieving and then spite between them, they hadn’t been close like this in ages. It had been too long since he had made love to his sweet wife. 

She melted into him, the feel of his hands on her, his lips against hers so desperately, was enough to heal the wounds in her heart the war had caused. 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he planted kisses down the slope of her neck. “You are so wonderful, so kind. You have the most perfect, golden heart.” 

He lavished praise as his hands untied the laces of her gown, his lips finding their place over her racing heart, the heart that had given him so much love, enough to heal a boy doomed from the start. 

They moved slowly, treasuring each gentle caress and loving kiss as they stripped themselves bare. The waking nightmares they had been faced with in King’s Landing melted into nothing but old memories in the wake of their embrace. 

For so long, after the attack and losing their child, she had felt so disconnected to her own body. Now, as Aemond kissed every inch of her, as his hands roamed the familiar curves of her body, she felt she was finally herself again. 

She had spent too long watching her husband succumb to who his family wanted him to be. It made her determined to remind him why she loved him, how much she cherished him. 

Her hand slithered down the strong planes of his chest, his breath hitching as it traveled lower and lower until she gently grasped his stiff length in her hand that twitched with desire under her touch. 

Breaths left him in desperate pants as she stroked him, her touch familiar yet so missed. He repressed a shiver as she quickened her pace, her eyes watching him intently, the sight of his pleasure a welcome reprieve to how tightly wound she’d seen him for months. 

He moaned and quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her motions. He would not spill too early, before he even had the chance to bring her pleasure. 

She squealed in surprise, her laugh ringing out in the room as he picked her up and eagerly carried her to the bed. Her delighted giggles continued as she fell back on the soft mattress below her, biting her lip and practically writhing at the heated look from the man above her. 

She reached up, taking his eye patch off and tossing it to the side, needing to see all of him.

Aemond wasted no time, he couldn’t go another second without her. He spread her legs and kneeled before her, his mouth devouring her with a fervor of a man starved, moaning at the delectable taste of her.

She cried out, her hand falling to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling with each deliberately devastating stroke of his tongue. 

Her body was powerless against him, a litany of praise falling past her lips without her knowledge, mindlessly calling out to him, divulging every ounce of her love for him, both cursing and acclaiming his tongue and his ability to render her completely mindless. 

He growled against her, the sound of his name spoken so breathlessly, so desperately, quickly becoming his undoing. He quickened his pace, his need to push her over the edge growing as his own desires did.

She almost screamed, her back arching as he added his fingers, curling them in just the way he knew would drive her crazy. 

Her hands twisted into the sheets below her, her legs beginning to quiver from their place over his shoulders as he worked her to the cusp of ecstasy. 

“Aemond!” She cried out as his wicked tongue and fingers brought her to a blinding peak. 

She panted heavily, her limbs still trembling from the force of her release, barely able to comprehend the heated kiss Aemond pressed to her lips, the taste of her on his tongue making her moan. 

The soft sound turned into another high pitched cry as he entered her slowly, a shuddering breath falling past his own lips as they joined for the first time in months. He stilled, needing a moment before he lost his composure completely. 

He gazed at her below him, his lone eye shining, the love he felt for her in that moment suddenly overwhelming. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eye shut as her hand caressed through his hair, her soft lips brushing against his temple. 

“It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’m here. I won’t ever be parted from your side.” 

Her words, as if she knew exactly what had happened just hours ago, the attempt on her life on the orders of his own family, were the salve to the torment running through his head since he learned of the threat against her. 

He raised his head, kissing her firmly, his tongue tangling with hers, desperate for her touch, her taste, every inch of her. 

“No one will ever take you from me.” He spoke softly, though the air of determination surrounding his words did not go unnoticed, whether to reassure her or himself he wasn’t sure. 

His hips began to move rhythmically, thrusting in and out of her gently, as if it were their first time again. 

She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gripped onto his back, feeling his muscle ripple under his skin as he moved. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he made love to her as if he were afraid to break her, afraid to cause her any more harm than what she had endured since the war started. 

“Aemond,” She breathed out, leaning upwards, her nose brushing against his as she brushed her lips against his. “I’m ok. You can go faster, I can take it.” 

His face twisted, memories of the night of the attack, of her screams and cries of agony, of how close she had been last night to succumbing to the war. The thoughts were torturous. 

“I can’t-” He choked out, his jaw clenching, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain himself. “I can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know you would never.” She assured him, her hands cradling his face as she looked at him intently, pure trust and love echoing through her eyes. 

He exhaled loudly, allowing his pace to quicken slightly, the moan she let out like music to his ears, soothing every ounce of his worry. 

“I trust you.” She whispered and his resolve shattered completely in an instant. 

He whimpered and began to thrust into her harder, his movements becoming more assured, his hunger for her reaching its peak, his hips now crashing against hers purposefully, moans falling freely from his lips as she cried out at every hard thrust, his cock hitting that place inside her that made her writhe against him.

Her noises were beautiful, they sent shivers down his spine, made his head spin in that delightful way only she could give him. He never liked to feel as though he wasn’t in control, but with her he welcomed the feeling. 

She was the only one he felt safe around to let himself feel it. 

He gripped onto her thigh, hiking it higher on his hip, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her name like a desperate prayer on his lips as he felt himself nearing his end. It had been too long and he was no match for her perfect body. 

He brought his hand down, his thumb brushing against her clit, desperate to bring her with him. It didn’t take long until she trembled against him, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back against the sheets as she cried out loudly. 

The feeling of her tightening around him and the sight of her lost in pleasure beneath him undid him effortlessly. He gasped, his movements becoming more frantic in his end, frantic groans following with each of his movements. It hit him like a wave, crashing over him all at once. He cried out, a sound more desperate than she had ever heard from him, his body stiffening before falling lax as he came hard. 

His eye fell shut as the haze of pleasure overtook him. He breathed harshly, letting the aftershocks of bliss roll through his shaking limbs. Her hands brushing his hair out of his face brought him back into the present.  

His eye fluttered open, meeting the eyes of the woman below him, her easy, pleasure filled smile bringing one of his own.

He leaned down, kissing her softly. Silently vowing to himself that he would never let anything threaten her life again, not as long as he lived, that he would never bring her pain ever again. 

He held her tightly, breathing out a long, drawn out breath, expelling every bit of the bitter anger and betrayal that clung to him. 

As he lay beside her, his softening length still buried inside her, the blissful touch of her hand running through his hair, he listened to the waves outside the open balcony doors, the calls of seabirds reminding him of where he was, where he would spend the rest of his days with her by his side.

It brought him more peace than he ever could have imagined. 

~~

With Aemond’s absence, and subsequently Vhagar’s absence from the frontlines, the Greens quickly succumbed to the Blacks. 

She held tightly to Aemond’s hand as her father read outloud the letter sent from Rhaenyra who now sat the throne. He gave no reaction as he heard of Otto’s execution, of Aegon’s demise in the black cells. He barely twitched as he heard his mother was to be sequestered in the Red Keep, forced to live out the rest of her life in solitude. 

The only emotion he showed was the breath he let out when he heard Daeron was to remain in Oldtown, with strict orders never to return to King’s Landing. He was thankful his younger brother never played a role in the war, that his life was spared from a gruesome fate. 

Helaena looked forlorn, her eyes cast down to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She left for a reason, she had escaped with her children, an act she would never regret, but it didn’t lessen the unease in her heart.

She always knew this was how it would end. 

The knowledge that Aegon would never touch her again was a shining ray of light in the storm of dark clouds that was the news of the demise of her family. 

They were dismissed quickly, her mother throwing her a wary look as Aemond practically sprinted from the room as if it were deprived of air he desperately needed. 

She walked at a slow pace, knowing he’d need a few minutes to himself to take in the news. Making her way through the gardens, she knew exactly where he’d be, where he often found himself in moments of deep thoughts and contemplation. 

She knew he didn’t regret leaving, but some days the decision was harder to swallow than others. 

Within a few minutes, she found him sitting on the bench in front of the billowing willow tree, the place they had first spoken, the place he had complimented her drawings, the place where she had made him laugh as if they were old friends rather than new acquaintances. 

He didn’t look up as she approached. 

The only indication he gave to her presence was the long breath he let out as she took a seat next to him. 

“I’m fine.” He spoke impatiently, as if to assure her so he could be left to his torturous solitude.

“You know I don’t believe that.” She admonished softly, making no move to leave. 

His foot tapped erratically against the stone below him, his teeth biting his bottom lip, his shoulders hunched, the very picture of discontent. Frowning, she placed her hand on his arm, sliding down the length of his tense muscles until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling.”

“I can’t quite make sense of it myself.” He admitted quietly.

“I know you’re not happy Rhaenyra is on the throne-”

“I don’t care about that.” He spoke abruptly, his tone becoming sharp. “Our lives would have been much easier if that damned chair didn’t exist.”

She knew since coming to Ixtal, after the month of peace they’d had without his family breathing down his neck, forcing his every move, he could breathe easier. But it was still his family, his own brother and grandsire who had perished in the war. 

“Aemond,” She began softly. “Talk to me, please.”

“I know what my brother was. I won’t pretend to mourn him.” 

“You do not have to.” 

His eyes held a vacant look, as he retreated into the mess of thoughts in his head. He knew what his grandsire had done, the game he had played long before he had even been born. He knew the retribution Otto faced was well deserved. 

It didn’t cause him much grief. 

It was the thought of his mother that left his insides twisting in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

“It doesn’t seem like enough.” He whispered, his words almost lost to the wind. 

“What doesn’t?”

“She tried to take you from me yet she lives.” 

Her breath caught in her throat. She had never had a close bond with Aemond’s mother but after she had been told what had happened that fateful night they left, what caused her husband’s tears, her view of Alicent had been forever changed. 

Aemond held tightly to her hand, as if saying the words aloud were too much to handle. 

He let out a shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, one that was all too familiar when it came to the derision his family caused him. 

“It does not seem a fitting punishment yet I’m… relieved. I don’t think I truly want her dead.”

Aemond didn’t know what to make of what he felt for his mother. He was angered she still drew breath yet relieved she hadn’t been killed brutally by Rhaenyra, yet he still couldn’t stomach the thought of her, not after what she’d done. 

“Of course you don’t. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother.” 

He thinks to himself that he doesn’t deserve her, this wonderful woman in front of him, the only one to truly see him. 

When he lies with his wife, when he sees her beautiful smile, when he feels her touch on his skin, he thinks he’d be content if his mother never saw the light of day again, yet deep down, the guilt festers. 

He was the reason their side lost. His departure was the sole reason Aegon and Otto are dead, the reason his mother is confined for the rest of her days. 

He can’t find himself regretting his actions, knowing the outcomes, yet he can’t help but feel as though he had failed his family. 

The sense of duty they had instilled in him was screaming, raging at him for what he had done. But he wasn’t that man they raised him to be. 

He was the man who fell in love with his best friend. He was the man who finally felt love as a child from a girl who tried endlessly to get him to see the beauty in himself and the world around him. 

The part of him that felt guilty for his mother was soon crushed out by the love he held for his wife. When he looked at her, he realized no one had ever truly cared for him but her. No one had ever had his best interest at heart except her. 

He squeezed her hand in his, finally letting his gaze reach hers, the concern in her eyes melting a part of him that desperately needed to be melted. 

“I don’t regret a single moment with you.” He tells her, the look in his eye now soft, no longer shrouded in agony and confusion. 

She smiles softly, still worried for him, worried for what the news would cause him. 

“Aemond-”

“I just want to think about our future.” He interrupted, knowing exactly what fears lay on her tongue, fearing much of the same for himself. 

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He would feel the moments of guilt, of relief, of whatever other emotion his family would cause him, as they came. 

He didn’t fear what he would feel because he knew the woman he loved would be there to soothe him in every one of those dark moments. His family, though they may try, couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“I want to raise our children here, where they won’t know any pressures of the court or successions, of war or conflict.” 

“Are you sure you don’t-”

“Protecting you was and will always be my number one priority.” He assured her before she could even voice her question about his regret. 

Her smile was much more genuine, his words soothing the anxiety she felt at his reaction. He felt himself smile at the sight before him, eased merely by her presence.

He leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his forehead rest against hers.

“You were always my purpose.” 

His whispered words were assurances they both clung to in the face of uncertainty. 

Tension would always exist as long as their enemy sat on the throne, but they were content, miles away, across the sea where their love flourished, where they would start their family.

No one would take that away from them.

~~

A year had passed peacefully. No further word from King’s Landing came. Helaena and her children thrived in the beauty that was Ixtal. The eccentric Princess made many friends with the ladies in court, finally feeling as though she could be herself without judgment, without fearing retribution or gossip. She no longer felt the pressure to be the perfect image of a Targaryen Princess. 

Aemond had quickly found his place alongside her younger brother in leading the city watch. He melded into his new life with an ease she hadn’t expected. 

Her own father accepted Aemond into their council, his voice soon becoming a valuable and respected asset to the island and its governance with most of the realm. 

Their new life was everything they wanted. 

Until the day their past caught up to them. 

“My Lady?” She looked up to notice her guard approaching, a nervous expression painting his features. “A dragon has been spotted approaching our shores. Shall I request your husband?”

Her face was drawn tightly and she shook her head brusquely. She knew exactly who would be accosting them.

“No, I will handle it.” 

She walked determinedly to the throne room, her guard following behind her worriedly.

“Where is my father?”

“In a council meeting.”

“And my husband is with him?”

“Yes, my Lady.” 

“Good.” She breathed out. She didn’t need either of them catching wind of their guest’s arrival and causing a stir. “You are dismissed.” She spoke to her guard whose eyes widened at the command, his mouth opening to refuse, but she gave him a pointed look.

“I can handle this, Ser Jerrod.” 

The guard sighed defeatedly and gave her a look of resignation.

“I am telling your husband of your orders when he comes to punish me.” 

Aemond had developed quite the reputation of being protective of his wife, the guards were terrified to obey her orders when they knew they would face the ire of her dragon husband. 

“I will take the blame, I promise you.” She assured him with a smirk. 

As her guard left, leaving her alone in the throne room, she let out a long breath, her heart racing as she prepared herself for what she would soon face. 

Only minutes later, the great doors opened and Queen Rhaenyra entered, her face hardened, bitter anger in her eyes. 

Her steps faltered, her powerful pace slowing as she met the eyes of the person she had least expected. 

Rhaenyra spoke her name slowly, her entire demeanor changed, abruptly thrown off from her course of murderous rage that darkened her thoughts, that prompted her abrupt arrival. 

She breathed deeply, straightening her posture as she steeled her expression, putting on the mask of anger back into place.

“I’m sure you know why I am here.”

“I do.” She answered Rhaenyra cooly, her posture relaxed, an exact contrast from the woman before her who looked as though she was unraveling. 

The dark circles under her eyes did not go unnoticed. 

“I need to see Aemond.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rhaenyra, you know that.”

“He needs to pay for what he did.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears filling her eyes. 

She stared at the woman, the Queen, before her for a few long seconds, taking in her state of weariness with a heavy sigh, which only seemed to upset Rhaenyra further, her face turning red, her jaw clenching as she took a mighty step towards her.

“He killed my son!”

“And you killed mine!” She yelled back, matching her with the ferocity only a devastated mother could have. 

The reminder of what Rhaenyra agreed to, what she allowed Daemon to do, made her face crumble, her eyes falling to the floor, refusing to meet the gaze of the woman in front of her, the woman she had made lose everything. 

She never wished the loss of a child on any woman, yet here she was, standing face to face with the woman with whom she had directly caused the greatest sorrow. 

“Gods, Rhaenyra, do you think yourself innocent, do you think you are absolved of punishment from your place in this war?”

“I know I am not.” She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did not start this. Your husband must pay for what he has done.”

“My husband does not hold this blame alone. This war would’ve happened no matter who laid the first blow, you know that.”

“They usurped my crown!”

“Yet you sit on the throne and the only reason you do is because Aemond chose to step down from the fight.” 

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, the fury in her eyes taking over her grief. 

“You did not come here to wager about succession.”

“No, I came to kill my brother.” Rhaenyra stated simply, her glare deepening when the woman in front of her scoffed.

“Aemond is under Ixtal’s protection. He has no governance under the crown.”

“Your father is an honorable man, he will do what is right-”

Her sarcastic laugh stopped Rhaenyra mid sentence, the older woman scowling at the young woman before her with blooming hatred.

“My father does not know all the details about what happened that night in King’s Landing, why I was attacked, how I lost my baby. If he knew it was you and Daemon that orchestrated it, that you were the reason he lost his grandchild, no force in this realm could save you.” She threatened, delighting in the way Rhaenyra shrunk under her pointed words. 

“Your position is tentative, Rhaenyra. Most of the realm despises you, especially after this senseless war. The smallfolk in King’s Landing are starving, the Lords of great houses are fed up with your trade arrangements, raising taxes, abandoning treaties.” She started, her voice low with animosity that steadily grew with each passing second she stood before her.

Rhaenyra looked surprised by what she knew, the details that hounded her night after night, the reason she was berated practically daily in court by smallfolk and Lords alike. 

“Most leaders in this realm hate you, you have little support anymore. If my father were to break tradition and take a stand against your position, how many houses do you think would remain loyal to you?”

Rhaenyra remained silent, her face twisted with disdain, mostly because she knew she had no argument. 

“If you threaten my husband, if you plan some heinous attack on his life, if you darken Ixtal with your presence again, I will tell my father the role you played in my attack and nothing will stop him from marching to the gates of King’s Landing, with the support of the entire realm behind him.” She warned darkly. “Don’t forget, we’re the reason you still have food on your plates. You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“Who do you think you are to threaten me? I am your Queen.” Rhaenyra raged, losing what little control she had left. 

“You think you can threaten me?” She countered. “That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? To exert what little power you have left to boost your ego, to enact revenge for a bitter fight you caused.”

Rhaenyra flinched, her face twisted with derision at her words.

“Don’t pretend you have no role in this, Rhaenyra, you are smarter than that.” She added before the queen could speak another senseless word. “You pretended some measly words against your sons were more dire than a child who lost an eye. You added fire to an already growing inferno and you think they would, what? Live in peace?”

Rhaenyra gazed past her, refusing to look her in the eye. 

“I am truly sorry about what happened to Lucerys.”

“Don’t say his name.” Rhaenyra seethed.

“A son for a son, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” 

Rhaenyra flinched, swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, the guilt she still felt for her role in such a violent act drowning her, especially now as she faced the woman she hurt directly. 

“You got what you wanted, so consider us even.” She choked out through her own growing emotions, the memory of that night still haunting her. “Now leave.”

She watched, feeling victorious as Rhaenyra bowed her head, unable to look at her, as she turned on her heel and began to walk to the door in defeat.

“You may sit on that throne but it is my house that holds the power.” She called out before she could leave the room. “Remember that next time you get the urge to visit again.”

The door closed behind the Queen and she let out a long breath, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, having spoken to the reason for her attack for the first time, having expelled her anger towards the woman who had caused her greatest loss. 

She let her shoulders relax, suddenly realizing how tense her entire body had become. She turned on her heel and stopped abruptly as she noticed Aemond in the doorway across the room.

His face was passive, she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. Even after all their time together, she still had trouble reading him in moments when he was guarded. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” He answered vaguely. A moment passed before he let a small smile grow and she breathed out, laughing slightly as she approached him. “I quite like seeing that side of you.”

“You are not mad?”

“Mad?” He asked in disbelief and laughed. “No, I think you handled that with much more grace than I ever could.” 

He held his hand out to her as she came before him, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 

“In fact, seeing you defend me as valiantly as you did was quite… stirring.” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest.

“Aemond.” She admonished. “This is serious.”

“It is and you handled yourself as if you’ve been ruling for years.”

She sighed in annoyance, the praise not having the effect she expected. She felt as though he was avoiding the seriousness of what happened, or how wrong things could have turned out. 

“Your sister arrived to kill you and all you can do is compliment me?” 

Aemond’s smile faltered, his demeanor changing in an instant, the cool air around him gone.

“I have to live with what I did… to Lucerys.” He admitted quietly. “She must live with what she did. It’s like you said, we are even.” 

She intertwined their fingers, her hand squeezing his in a silent show of comfort. She knew he still felt immense guilt about what had happened that night, for what she endured as a result of it. 

He still had nights when he couldn’t face it. 

“Do you think she will retaliate?” She asked quietly and Aemond shook his head, clearing his throat and the air of intensity surrounding him as his easy smile returned. 

“Not unless she wants another verbal lashing from you.”

She scoffed and looked at her husband plainly. He pulled her towards him, a serious look in his eye even as his smirk remained. 

“If she ever dares to return, she will have to face Vhagar.” He told her. “I would never let her hurt you or anyone on this Island.”

She breathed out in relief. She didn’t want it to ever come to that, but to hear it so plainly, the lengths Aemond would go to protect her, to protect her family and their home, was a strange comfort. 

He kissed her forehead and looked at her with a gaze full of nothing but love, the words she had said to Rhaenyra in his defense running around his head. He would not soon forget it, the way she stood up for him. 

Her name was called from across the hall, breaking the moment between them. 

They turned to see her younger sister approaching, their smiles widening as they saw the bundle she carried in her arms.

“Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting fussy. I think she’s missing you two.” 

Aemond met her halfway, his arms already outstretched to take his daughter from his good sister. He whispered his thanks, his gaze locked onto the babe in his arms, his precious girl. 

At only 3 moons old, she was the greatest light in his life, aside from her mother of course. She had him wrapped around her little finger the second she took her first breath.

“Thank you for looking after her.” She told her sister and stood by Aemond’s side, latching onto his arm as they both gazed down at their child. 

“Is everything ok? I heard there was a dragon spotted.” Her sister inquired.

She looked over at Aemond, but he seemed too engrossed in their daughter to have even heard the question. 

“Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about, she won’t be coming back.” She assured her sister who nodded and quickly made her exit, sensing the couple wanted to be alone with their little family.

Together, they walked out of the palace and through the gardens, coming to the familiar bench by the willow tree. 

Aemond sat, sparsely taking his eyes off his daughter. Next to him, his wife laughed, continually amused at how effortlessly their daughter mesmerized him. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out, gently tracing her finger over her daughter’s chubby cheeks that grinned at her touch, making a noise of contentment as she wriggled in her father’s arms. 

Aemond placed a kiss to her forehead and she raised her head, meeting his gaze. 

Their smiles grew at the same time, the same thought running through their minds. They had made it.

Whispered promises made in the beginning of their love had finally come true. 

They had their family and nothing could take it from them. 

~~

Thank you all for reading and coming with me and this wild ride! All of your comments have meant the absolute world to me and I'm just so happy I got to share this with you all xx

There will be an epilogue so this will not be the end of Aemond and his Sun xx

~~

Tag List:

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So sorry if I forgot to tag you!

Aemond vs Legolas

Why does he look like a proud dad standing there?

oh my god

🛐🛐🛐🛐

Repentance

Part 3 of ‘Retribution’

warnings: smut, angst (again ofc) jealous! Aemond

a/n: I’m sorry I haven’t gotten around to answering everyone who’s left me anon messages, I appreciate you all & your suggestions! (Newly edited) I added everyone I could to the taglist, I’m so sorry if I missed you, I tried to add you but your usernames weren’t working for some reason :( 

(au purposes let’s pretend Cregan has a son named Brandon)

—

Aemond grunts, his long strands of silver hair shielding his face as his hips ground into hers. Sweat beading his forehead and loins aching for release, he begs the gods to help him reach his high at a quicker pace. Her mewling and moans beneath him don’t deter him to steer away from his thoughts. Thoughts that were plagued of her. His wife that felt a million miles away from him in Kingslanding.

“Faster, my love” Alys cries out beneath him, her words only then causing him to break from his trance. His skin slaps against hers more frequently as he pounds harder, his mind continuing to ponder over the intrusive thoughts that enter his head about his beloved wife.

The way her skin feels— so soft and supple as she would caress his hands and occasionally his face if he would allow her. Smile that lit up every room she walked into, the same one that he no longer saw anymore— his privilege of seeing it being ripped away the moment he started to neglect her.

As his mind fills of glimpses of her, only then does he feel the lead to his release. The ache starting to uncoil as he allows himself to imagine that it isn’t Alys beneath him. He doesn’t see her face when he glances down at Alys. Her dark brown hair turned silver in his mind, brown eyes the same violet shade he saw in his own reflection. As he uses his free hand to fondle her breast, toying with her nipple he imagines his wife’s figure. Her cleavage that he would glance at briefly clear as day in his thoughts. He would never stare longer than he should’ve, always turning a blind eye to such a desirable place out of respect for her.

He didn’t care about respect in this moment, defiling you and your honour in his mind, Aemond works toward his orgasm. Panting and hips starting to ache, his thrusts become more powerful as he grows nearer. His thoughts of you repeating as he imagines that you are beneath him, you are the one shuddering from pleasure, walls squeezing him tight as you near your own release. He imagines Alys’ moans and whimpers are emanating from your lips.

“I love you” Alys cries out, hands grasping ahold of Aemond’s face— pulling him down to place her lips on his. He pushes through her orgasm, his hips still pounding into hers as he chases his own high. He shuts his eyes as he envisions you, loving him again— holding him as you used to attempt to, playing with his hair and reading to him. He finally cums, his eye shut tight as he slips out of Alys, grasping ahold of his cock as he releases onto her stomach.

Your name is on the tip of his tongue as he moans out.

“Must you leave so soon?” Alys hums, disappointment clear in her tone as she strokes his naked back that is turned to her. He ignores her, pulling on his trousers as he tries to locate his shirt she so carelessly threw away from him.

“My beloved, please answer me” Alys pleads, eyes watching the silver haired man pace around infront of her as he collects his belongings.

“You have had me for nearly a whole day, my love. Have you not grown sick of me yet?” Aemond chuckles, flashing her a grin that reassures her instantly. She had begun to worry she had completely lost him to you.

“Not when I’m aware you return to her. Not when I know I won’t see you again until a few days time” She huffs, clearly frustrated with the situation they were in.

“What will you have me do? Leave my duties as a prince and husband so we can fuck all day and night beneath the roof of this Inn?” Aemond’s remark is dripping with sarcasm— his tone causing her to scoff as she pulls her own nightgown on.

“I do not care for your tone, Aemond” She mutters as she moves round the bed to reach him, her arms coiling around his waist as she leans her head against his back.

“If it is guilt of infidelity that is stopping you from being mine, I may have a solution. One that would remove your wife from the equation permanently” Her words are venomous as they ring in his ears, her implication of using her witchcraft to kill his wife causing him to pull away from her.

“Utter those words again and I shall have you done for treason. You will not lay a finger on my wife, am I understood?” Aemond hisses as he turns to grasp her jaw tightly, her eyes widening at his sudden outburst. She nods immediately, pausing for a moment— Aemond lets his hold on her linger before he releases.

“I need her alive and able in order to play the role my mother has bestowed upon me” Aemond excuses, questioning his own reasons for why he reacted so strongly upon hearing about his wife’s potential demise.

He gives Alys an apologetic hug, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulls her into his body. Regardless of his behaviour just moments ago, Alys still embraces him— sighing in relief at his warmth.

“I just do not understand why we must be so far from each other— she has already given her permission for us to love” Alys murmurs into his shirt, looking up at Aemond who gives her a reassuring smile.

“She may have but the rest of my family have not. My head will be on a spike before the end of the night if my mother were to find out I was pursuing you” Aemond sighs heavily, his mind flashing back to moments ago when it was plagued with the thought of his wife.

“I must go” Aemond mutters before he places a soft kiss on Alys’ forehead. He felt his stomach tighten in knots at the thought of finally seeing his wife— you, waiting for him at Kingslanding. He felt as excited as a young child was for sweets— he could hardly contain his excitement.

Your husband enters your bedchamber, announcing his presence by knocking on your door. Much to his confusion, you are nowhere to be seen. Usually you would be preparing for dinner— your handmaidens helping assist you as you change into your dresses. Aemond huffs out in slight dissapointment before he reluctantly returns to his own bedchambers.

He doesn’t want to admit that he constantly observes the door, waiting for you to barge in at any moment now— apologising for your tardiness before you take a seat beside him. When moments pass without a sign of you, Aemond downs his goblet of wine, a slight scowl gracing his features as he begins to grow impatient with your absence.

“Where is my wife?” Aemond questions the table, causing everyone’s idle chatter to quiet as they turn to him. Alicent is the first to respond, reassuring him that you are probably on dragon back and getting some fresh air. He hums, unsatisfied with her answer but still agreeing to leave it alone as he picks at his food.

Aegon saunters toward his brother, pulling the free seat out beside him with an obnoxious screech of the chairs legs. Aemond tuts as his brother slumps down on the seat, pulling the holder full of wine to pour an excessive amount into his goblet.

“You’re unaware of your own wife’s whereabouts— how sad is that” Aegon smirks, wiping away the excess wine around his mouth with his sleeve.

“Bother someone else with your remarks, brother. I am not in the mood” Aemond grunts, eye casting away from his brother to observe the others present in the room.

“Whether you believe me or not, I know of your wife’s whereabouts. She and a certain visitor from the North are parading around flea bottom at this very moment” Aegon says, lowering his voice as he informs his brother of his wife’s secret.

Aemond has every right to accuse Aegon of lying, he’s Aegon for god’s sakes. Only a fool would trust him and his word. But instinct tells Aemond that his brother is speaking the truth, so he hums as he thinks to himself. Jealousy plants itself inside of him like a disease, growing stronger by every minute that passes of Aemond imagining you with this so called visitor from the North. He already felt the strong urge to gut the man, exile him to death for attempting to steal his wife and better yet endangering her by leaving the Red Keep’s grounds to explore. 

She isn’t yours. We had an agreement.

These thoughts play on Aemond’s mind as he tries to rid himself of the feeling he just previously had, his possessive mind easing as he tries to see reason. He had his Alys, his one true love— why should he feel the need to claim you as his too. He was being too greedy. 

“Cregan Stark’s son and her. They sneak back in through the west side of the garden, brother” Aegon mutters in his ear as he pushes out of his seat to stumble off, stopping briefly as he rests his hand against Aemond’s shoulder. At Aegon’s words, Aemond feels his strong feelings return— jealousy and anger over clouding his better judgement. 

Dinner concludes and you still haven’t arrived back from wherever you are, whether it be in flea bottom or dragon back, Aemond was determined to find out if Aegon’s claims were true. So he stays posted on the west side of the garden, hidden securely behind a few trees and bushes as he picks at the fallen leaves that surround him. He’s close to questioning his sanity as time passes, wondering if his brother fooled him yet again and was now laughing at Aemond’s stupidity for actually waiting for them to return. 

It is confirmed when he hears your beautiful laughter carrying through the night air. He sees the two of you walking back through the trees that lead to a brick wall— ah that’s how they sneak back in. A lump grows in Aemond’s throat as he observes how closely you are to the Stark boy, your arms linked— bodies mere inches from touching and a wide grin on your face as you look up at him.

I could make you laugh.

Aemond thinks to himself as his chest starts to ache. You had tried to jest with him many times at the beginning of your marriage, always telling him jokes and trying to find common ground through humour. Aemond regrets all those times he would wear a straight face, dismissing you and your jokes instantly.

                                     —

The warm air causes your cheeks to blush as you pull away gently from Brandon, your face sore from all the smiling you’ve been doing all evening. You couldn’t contain yourself, you never can around him. He sighs heavily as he stands infront of you, grasping ahold of one of your hands as he lifts it to his lips— placing a gentle kiss on your skin.

“Departing from you pains me greatly” The older boy jests, hand over his heart dramatically as he pretends to groan out in pain.

“You’ll see me tomorrow, you child” You snort, another grin gracing your face as you watch the man infront of you laugh.

“And the day after that… and the day after that— and the day…” You decide to cut off his teasing by pulling him forward by the wrist so you can lean up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“I bid you goodnight” You hum, satisfied when you see him smile at the feeling of your lips on his skin. Embarrassed by your sudden action, you turn on your heel and begin your walk back to your bedchamber— a smile clear on your face as you try to contain yourself.

The Stark boy clouded your thoughts so much so you didn’t notice the way the group of trees beside you rustled suspiciously. Your husband who finally leaves his hiding place after waiting for almost an hour, huffs as he tries to contain himself. In all honesty, he wanted to maim the Lord’s son who had the privilege of your lips being on his skin. He decides against making any rash decisions and follows after you once there’s some distance.

You’re in your bedchamber for mere minutes before you hear a knock on your door. Clothes already discarded on the floor from being half undressed, you grab a loose bedsheet and wrap it around yourself hastily before you move to open the door.

“Aemond, what are you doing here at this hour?” You question him, confused as to why he was standing outside of your door. You catch his eye skimming across your body, his gaze causing you to shift in discomfort.

Aemond shamelessly wonders what lies beneath the sheet you’re holding so tightly against your body, his mind flooding of the indecent thoughts he had of you during his time with Alys— his cock growing half hard as he views you now.

“Can a husband not wish to see his wife?” Aemond tuts, gaze finally leaving your body as he looks behind you— silently observing the way your clothes are strewn on the floor.

He wonders if there is someone in your bed, perhaps the Stark boy found a secret entry way into your room after parting ways in the garden. The mere thought of you taking him to bed causes discomfort to settle in Aemond’s gut, the raging emotions of jealousy returning as he imagines you bedding anyone that wasn’t him.

His worries are put to rest when you pull the door back further and stand aside to let him in, holding it open for him as you wait for him to enter.

“How was your time with Alys?” You question him after you shut the door behind him, moving toward the bed to grab your nightwear. Aemond moves to sit on the seat by the fireplace, eye watching the flames dance as he answers.

He hadn’t thought of Alys since the moment he returned to Kingslanding, you being at the forefront of his mind this whole evening. You plague his very thoughts, even as you stand beside him now you continue to hold such power over him. But you didn’t need to know that.

“It was most enjoyable. Although I spent half the time in her bed” Aemond hopes that hearing of his shared intimacy with Alys evokes envy from you. He wants you to burn for him, desire him and grow jealous at the thought of someone else bedding him. Unbeknownst to him, his words cause just that— your cheeks warming at the thought of him in that way.

“That is good news” You simply hum, not bothering to question him any further about it. You sigh heavily as you try to dress from beneath the sheet, afraid that Aemond will see you in such an indecent state. Yes, you may be husband and wife but you never did consummate the marriage all those months ago.

On the night of your wedding, neither of you wished to indulge in intimacy to bind your marriage— you had pondered on the idea momentarily, your desires for him over shadowing your clarity as you both stalled on the act. Aemond found a way to convince the party set to witness the consummation, promising greater results if they were to wait outside the chamber. Blood was shed on the sheets but it had not been from your virginity being taken and more so your palm.

“How inconsiderate of me to not question you about your own night, beloved wife” Aemond’s tone is clear that he has underlying intentions with his question,  intentions of interrogating you about your whereabouts. 

“No need to feel guilty. I spent my afternoon on dragon back, just catching the sunset on time” You lie, hoping he didn’t see right through the smile you front to him. His facial expression is unreadable as he stares over at you, narrowing his eye he lets out a hum. 

“You don’t stink of dragon. The sun set hours ago…” Aemond trails off, an accusatory tone in his voice as he moves to push forward in his seat. You exhale heavily, piling your clothes into a bundle before setting it aside– you want to appear being busy so you don’t break under his gaze. 

“I am exhausted from the day. I have no time for your accusations, prince Aemond–” 

“My prince or better yet dear husband. Either title is preferred” Aemond cuts you off, standing from his seat he strides toward you– hands moving to grasp your face in his palms. You’re taken aback from his sudden gesture, confusion written on your face at his sudden outburst.

“I do not appreciate when you call me so formally. It is if I am a stranger to you. We are still married, you needn’t forget that” Aemond mutters to you now that you are inches apart from each other. You see the way his eye trails from your gaze down toward your lips, ever so parted as you breath heavily in his grasp– he’s tempted to press his lips against yours. Burning to taste you on his tongue, to claim the kiss that belonged to him, not the Stark boy. 

You force yourself out of his grasp and turn away, huffing as you avoid eye contact with him. Trying to calm your unstable breathing, you muster out “You must leave now” to Aemond before you brush past him to look out at the view, to distract yourself from the man before you. Aemond wears regret on his sleeve as he bids you goodnight, leaving your bedchamber with his head swelling with thoughts of what he could’ve done differently. 

He knows he’s upset you, having days pass with continuous silence from you, he can’t help but let your cold behaviour toward him affect his daily duties. He hasn’t visited Alys in over a week’s time, even after promising he would take no longer than three days to revisit her, he postpones the trip– prioritising you and salvaging what’s left of this broken marriage. 

He watches with bitterness on his tongue as you and the Stark boy rest beneath the weir wood tree, both sat side by side with your knees practically touching, he wonders what he’s said to make you smile. If only he could hear from this distance. Take mental notes about what to say to make you laugh, how to make you smile so brightly. 

“You’re yet to drink your tea, dear brother. Something the matter?” Aegon’s voice pulls Aemond’s gaze away from his wife and the boy– shaking his head, Aemond moves to sip his tea. He knows Aegon is trying to stir the pot, well aware he knows of the rumours spreading about his wife. With the two of them sat together as comfortable as they are, it was as if they were parading their love in front of Aemond’s face– giving Aegon even more things to use against his brother. 

“A mere Stark boy stealing a prince’s wife. It’s a truly sad tale” Aegon says lowly to Aemond, barely biting back a smile as he teases his brother. Aemond had always been the more level headed brother, calmer and more reserved than Aegon – he was never one to publicly display his anger. But in this moment, the thought of stringing Aegon along the table of cutlery sounded tempting to Aemond. 

“I suggest you hold your tongue” Aemond mutters, causing Aegon to let out a snort. Pushing back, Aemond’s gaze returns to your face— the sight of your smile easing him slightly. You never smile at him, hardly ever the last month that’s passed. But he remembers when you used to, on your wedding day and the first few days that followed.

“You and your tongues” Aegon tuts, referring to Aemond’s threat of severing yours that one night at the dinner table. Cregan, Alicent and Otto discuss their leave tomorrow morn at the end of the table— their words bringing Aemond some relief.

At least the Stark boy will leave Kings landing, be as far away from my wife as possible. Aemond thinks to himself as he picks at his nail beds absentmindedly.

“And what of your son Brandon?” Alicent questions Cregan, causing Aemond’s ears to perk up at the mentioning of the boy beneath the tree. So that’s the Stark boy’s name.

“He will return to Winterfell in a month’s time. He wishes to stay longer, fascinated by your swordsmanship — he wishes to learn more of the sport” Cregan hums, catching Aemond’s full attention as he sees an opportunity at hand.

“If your son wishes to improve his swordsmanship, I shall tutor him. I best all the knights and swordsman in Kings landing, you’ll find no better than me” Aemond announces, the eyes around the table shifting to look at him. Alicent wears a look of confusion at her son’s sudden proposal. She comes to realisation why he jumped at the opportunity when she glances at the two beneath the tree— she tuts and turns away.

“He would be honoured, my prince. We give thanks to you” Cregan says, smiling at Aemond with appreciation— unaware of the man’s true intentions. Aemond nods, turning to look at the boy he plan to soon rid of.

—

a/n: sorry if there’s any typos— half of it is unedited :p

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The other woman

part 2

You were overjoyed with your marriage to Aemond, unfortunately for you— he doesn’t feel the same way. You will always be the other woman.

Inspired by Lana Del Rey’s song The other woman.

warnings: incest (Uncle and Niece) angst, Aemond being a shit husband.

—

“Hmm” Your husband barely replies, an unamused look on his face as you make small talk with him over supper. You find his lack of response slightly embarrassing, feeling your cheeks warm as you try to ignore the eyes around the table that observe the both of you interact. They have pity in theirs, aware of the bitter treatment you’ve been receiving from the prince since you were wed four months ago.

It was one solely based on duty, for your family name and to keep the bloodline strong, both your parents agreed to the marriage. You were ecstatic upon hearing the news of your betrothed. You had always admired your uncle, dreaming of one day being wed to him, you had always felt in your heart that there would be no better match for you than Aemond.

Aemond couldn’t have felt any more different. He felt trapped and bound for eternity in a marriage he didn’t want nor ask for, he was forced into it by his parents and sister— caving into their excuses of wanting the best for the family. He had a love he wished to wed already waiting for him, his sweet Alys, whom he would never be able to call wife or bear children with now that he was married to you. Until mere months ago he had viewed you only as his niece and nothing more, now he didn’t know how to view you. He was certain about one thing though and that was that you were not the woman he wanted.

“My love..” Your words are soft as you speak to him, hoping to make it less obvious to your family you were yet again trying to spark conversation.

“I told you not to call me that. Are your ears in good shape or are you just an imbecile?” Aemond’s words cut through you like a blade, his tone causing a lump to grow in your throat. You hated how sensitive you’ve always been, you needed thicker skin if you were to survive this marriage.

My love

Alys called him that, he had chastised you for using the term before — explaining to you why he wished for you not to say those words again. They were hers for him alone, it was a painful reminder for him of the woman he longed for, the one he couldn’t have. The one that was robbed from him and shipped away to what felt like the other ends of the earth.

“I apologise, dear husband. It was a mistake” You say, trying your hardest not to let your voice tremble as you speak. He scoffs, downing the wine in his goblet before he continues his assault.

“Utter those words to me again and I will sever your tongue” He spits at you, words even more venomous that the ones before. You hear Alicent drop her cutlery, a disapproving look on her face as she chastises her son.

“Aemond— how dare you speak to your wife as such”

Everything around you becomes a blur, you block out the sounds of his mother and the way he argues back— claiming that you’re his wife and he can deal with you as he wishes. You wish nothing more than to just disappear from this table, from Kings landing itself. To get as far away from your husband as you could, you missed your own home with your loving parents and siblings.

“Excuse me for a moment” You say, voice barely heard before you push out of your seat and excuse yourself from the table. With your head low, you exit the room, the humid air causing you to hyperventilate once you’re hit with the fresh air in the hall. You can finally breathe, no longer feeling the pressure of Aemond beside you. You didn’t realise how uneasy he made you feel, only now that you were away from him you were able to relax your muscles and take deep breaths to calm your nerves.

You don’t bother to return to the dining room and instead quietly make your way back to your shared bedchamber. Uncertain of whether or not your husband would return to you tonight, you change into your night wear and lay down. Your eyes are shut but you can’t sleep, your thoughts and worries plague your mind as you attempt to lull yourself into slumber. You hope to be fast asleep when Aemond returns, if he does, to avoid having to face him.

He stumbles in hours later, reeking of wine and vhagar’s scent— he hums a tune of some sort as he shuffles around, lazily throwing his clothing onto the floor.

Great he’s drunk.

Despite his obnoxious noises, you remain unbothered as you pretend to sleep, your back turned to him and your eyes still shut as you wait for him to undress and get into bed. You expect silence from him, his usual behaviour even on nights when he’s dead sober. You used to excuse his cold attitude from being too exhausted from his duties to wish you goodnight. Now you know he didn’t have any words to share with you, he could barely stand the thought of sharing his nights with you.

“My sweet wife, are you awake?” His voice soft and smoother than honey, a tone you weren’t used to. He wasn’t being short with you for once and it confused you.

You feel his hand caress down your side, sighing heavily he pulls the sheet back and slips into the space behind you. His warmth radiates against your skin as he presses up against you more personally now, his arm circling your waist and face nuzzled into the back of your hair.

“You smell divine” He hums in satisfaction, hand grazing the skin of your exposed stomach. Although you knew he was drunk, his touches felt good and you tried to savour it for as long as you could— even with the knowledge of how ingenuion his actions were right now.

“I am sorry for how I treated you tonight, that was not— that was not husbandly of me” He stutters out, the first time you’ve ever heard any of his words sound imperfect. His strong facade never faltered with you, with what little words he did share with you he was always so sure about how he spoke to you, it was you who was always a mess.

“Forgive me, my love” He hums, placing soft kisses into your hair as his hand caresses your skin lovingly. For once you feel a small smile grace your lips, his sweet words causing you to feel emotional.

All you ever wanted was his love. For him to treat you with the utmost care and for you both to finally find love in this marriage of yours, no matter how rocky the beginning may have been. Your only wish was for him to love you the way you love him, to hear him utter the three words you once said to him but never received back. Only then could you die a happy woman.

You almost cave in to the urge of breaking your silence and turning around to face your husband. You want to kiss him, caress his face as you confess how long you’ve been waiting for him to treat you so delicately. His touch full of love and care rather than the coldness you’ve grown accustomed to.

“I love you, Alys”

His words cause your stomach to drop, tears burning in your eyes that were now open and facing the panels on the wall beside you. Aemond repeats his words again, wincing slightly you shut your eyes tight and wait for him patiently to fall into a drunken sleep.

He was never talking to you. Those sweet words he just uttered moments ago were meant for his true love, Alys— not you.

The realisation makes you shut your eyes tight, tears shedding from them and trailing down your cheeks freely as you try to comfort yourself. Aemond falls asleep with his arm around your waist and face nuzzled into your shoulder, he feels so close but so far away from you.

He will never be yours

You repeat in your head like torture as you lull yourself to sleep, finally being able to rest with the finalisation that you were always going to be the other woman.

Retribution

pt.2 of ‘The Other Woman’

pt.3 here

warnings: angst and fluff (technically) & mentions of sex.

a/n: also thank you so much for all the love for part one of this story <3! and I’m sorry to those who asked me to tag them with this post I was trying to but it wouldn’t let me for some reason :/

—

It had been weeks since that night, the same night Aemond confessed his feelings for his true love Alys in his drunken state. The same night you had cried yourself to sleep, wanting to be as far away from your husband whilst being trapped in his embrace. You woke the next morning with a new realisation— why should you bother trying to be an outstanding wife when you would never compare to her.

His beloved Alys.

Her name tastes like poison in your mouth, so distasteful you fear you’ll grow sick if it lingers at the forefront of your mind any longer. You feel guilty, it’s not her fault you’re trapped in a marriage with a man who’s madly in love with her.

You stop trying with Aemond. All the effort you put in to try and gain his approval, affection and love would inevitably go to waste— so why should you spend any more time worrying about Aemond and his needs. He didn’t need nor want you to be his wife, so you shouldn’t act the part.

You carry on with your day after your brief breakfast with Aemond in the dining room. You kept the conversation short, as you usually do now. You have little to say to him besides conversation about your shared duties to the throne and your family. You stopped trying to make small talk with him, your attempts before often irritated him. He wouldn’t hide the fact your consistent need for communication with him bothered him. Now you’re content with the shared silence between the two of you, grateful that you didn’t have to scramble to think of things to talk about.

You allow the handmaidens to ready your bath as you contemplate what outfit to wear for your day out of Kings landing. You ignore the way Aemond’s eye is trained on you intently, silently observing the way you think over what dress to wear between the two options.

“If those do not please you, I’ll buy you finer dresses, dear wife” Aemond breaks the silence, causing you to scoff at his attempt of being a considerate husband. This was one of the only times he had referred to you as his wife, weeks ago you would’ve been praising your gods in thanks— now the title barely phases you.

“Now why would you do that” You huff, deciding on the dress that was a deep shade of blue. You brush past him, hinting for him to leave the room when you bathe. He hums before pushing off of his seat and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him as you begin to undress.

“Are you planning on telling Prince Aemond where you are headed?” Your handmaiden Meredith questions you as she brushes your long silver hair. You pretend to lull the thought over before you say no.

“He doesn’t need to know. My absence won’t phase him” You hum, causing Meredith to tut as she braids some of your fine hair. You shut your eyes momentarily, preparing to receive an earful from the older woman who was like your mother figure in Rhaenyra’s absence.

“I would question that, Princess. Prince Aemond had spent half the day searching for you when you had left to roam the streets two days ago” She informs you, causing you to hum in thought as you processed what she had just told you. It seemed absurd that Aemond would notice you leaving for a few hours, you could disappear for weeks and he wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

“I trust you won’t tell him if he searches for me” You hum, confiding in her trust. You already knew the answer, Meredith would defend you with her last breath if it came down to it. She presses a soft kiss into your hair before standing up and stretching her limbs.

“Be mindful there is a family dinner tonight. You cannot be late” Meredith informs you and you wave her off, promising you wouldn’t be tardy before you push off of the hard floor and prepare to leave your bedchamber.

You had forgotten your promise the moment you stepped foot on Dragonstone. It had slipped your mind completely as you spent the day with your younger siblings— your mother distracting you in the evening by telling you stories by the fireplace. Your hand was steadily caressing her heavily swollen stomach as you listen to her tale, hoping your sibling inside of her womb was also listening. It was so entertaining you had forgotten of your curfew.

You leave Dragonstone hastily on Dragonback, cursing as you chastise yourself for forgetting such a thing. Meredith would definitely give you an earful later for this, but that was the least of your concerns as you take quick strides down the halls of the Red Keep. Out of breath and hair messy from the ride back, you quickly try to make yourself more presentable before you enter the dining room— the guard posted outside the door giving you a look before you enter.

“I apologise for my tardiness, your grace” You announce as you greet Alicent who gives you a tight lipped smile from her side of the table. She silently disapproved of your lack of consideration for time but said nothing— allowing you to take a seat beside Aemond.

You ignore his stare, keeping your gaze focused on the plate infront of you as you cut into your steak, hoping he would lose interest of your face and stop staring so intensely.

“Where have you been?” Aemond confronts you, finally breaking the deafening silence that could be cut with a knife.

“I went for a ride. Needed some fresh air” You glance at him as you answer, catching the dissatisfied look on his face at your alibi.

“Be honest with me” He presses you again, his voice slightly louder and catching the attention of the others sitting around the table. They pretend to carry on with their idle chatter, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation. You stay silent, ignoring his statement and hoping he would lose interest and stop talking to you.

“Your husband demands you to answer him” He growls, his tone revealing his frustration at your silence.

“Or what? You’ll sever my tongue?” You argue as you drop your cutlery, accentuating your anger as you repeat the words he spoke to you at this same table weeks ago. Everyone around the table goes silent at your sudden outburst, Aegon barely biting back a laugh whilst Helaena gazes at you with sympathy in her eyes. Alicent as you expected still wore a scowl on her face, unimpressed by both you and Aemond’s antics.

“I apologise for my outburst” You announce to everyone at the table before you continue to quietly eat, shifting further away from Aemond in your seat as you internally wish you were riding back to Dragonstone.

“I visited my family. That’s where I was today” You sigh heavily as you both enter your shared bedchamber after the dinner had concluded. Aemond gives you a look of understanding before you brush past him and begin to undress.

He lingers around the small bookshelf you insisted to be made months ago, finger trailing along the covers until he pulls out the novel containing children’s tales.

“You no longer read to me. I wish for you to read again” Aemond’s voice is just above a whisper, barely audible with the only sounds being your fabric loosening and the crackles from the fire.

Every second night after you wed, you made it a nightly ritual to read out loud your favourite stories from your childhood. Hoping it would help you bond with Aemond, it in fact did the opposite and made him leave the room most times— claiming he’d rather listen to Aegon fucking some whore than you reading to him.

“Today has exhausted me. Feel free to read on your own accord” You hum, dismissing his request as you stifle a yawn— pulling back your sheets to lay on your side of the bed. Aemond sighs heavily before he retires to the seat infront of the fireplace, reading quietly to himself. You had already shut your eyes and lulled yourself to sleep, so you missed the way he kept glancing over at your sleeping form.

Aemond feels a slight tightness in his chest as he reflects on how distant you’ve been with him for the last few weeks. He noticed it the first morning you stopped asking him a million questions at the breakfast table. Your odd behaviour that morning only being the start to you growing further apart from him. You stopped trying to drag him to the garden to simply walk with you, you no longer played with his hair or tried to jest with him. You didn’t ask him how his day was at the end of the night as you both lay down for bed, you would just silently turn over and sleep.

He’s hurt you, more times than he could count on all ten of his fingers. He treated you so bitterly because he blamed you for losing his sweet Alys to this betrothal. Now that he’s losing you too, he doesn’t know how to stop this marriage from falling apart.

The next morning, you ready your proposal to Aemond— one that you’ve been dwelling on for the last few weeks. You weren’t sure of how he’d react, probably ecstatic over your suggestion if you were to be honest. You know Alicent won’t be satisfied if she were to find out, so you intend to keep it a secret.

“We will reside in separate bedchambers. I’ve already asked Meredith to arrange Jace’s old bedroom down the hall for me. I’ll be moving my belongings there tonight” You announce to Aemond once you are both sat together during breakfast. He pauses at the news, confusion gracing his features as he stares at you.

“We’re married, why should you feel the need to sleep away from me?” His chest tightens again as he speaks.

“We’re practically worlds away when we share one bed, what difference would it make being in separate rooms” You say nonchalantly, sipping on your lukewarm tea as your eyes leave his. He doesn’t voice his disagreement with your suggestion, just silently nodding before he continues to eat.

When night comes, both you and Aemond make your way to your bedchambers after spending an evening with the whole family in Aegon and Helaena’s quarters. You were practically glued to her youngest child the whole night, unaware of your husband’s stare as he watched you babble away in gibberish to the young baby.

“Do you need instructions on where to stick your cock, brother?” Aegon had clapped him on the shoulder as he joins him by the fireplace he was leaning against. Aemond hums in confusion, pulling his gaze away from you momentarily to glance at his brother.

“It’s out of brotherly love that I question why you haven’t put your seed in her yet. Have you not been married half a year now?” Aegon scoffs, downing his goblet full of wine before he tosses it aside.

“We don’t share the insatiable urge to fuck like rabbits the way you and your whores do, dear brother” Aemond bites back, causing Aegon to raise his hands up in defense.

“At least I feel the urge to touch them, not once since your wedding have I seen you embrace her— not even with a simple kiss” Aegon was right, after their wedding night, Aemond didn’t bother trying to share any affection with you. In his heart he knew his kind touch and warm embrace were reserved for the one woman who held his heart in her hands.

“Y/N…” Aemond hums, stopping you in your tracks as you stop walking down the hall. You feel his hand embrace yours as he turns your body to face him, his touch warm as he cups your hand in his.

“H—how was your day?” He questions you, his stutter causing him to curse at himself internally as he notes how foolish he sounds. You let out a little laugh at how confusing he was being, you spent the walk back here in utter silence and he chooses only now to ask you.

“It was like every other day I have here. Meredith made me chocolate muffins— they were divine” You hum, unsure of what else to talk about you ask him the same question.

“My day was mediocre at best, one can only bare Aegon for so long”

You hum in understanding, Aegon was more than a handful. He was torture when he wanted to be, which was majority of the time he was in anyone’s presence. You’re blessed to be married to the tamer brother, the same one who still had your hand in his grasp.

“If that is all, I wish you goodnight Prince Aemond” You hum, pulling your hand from his grasp completely before you turn on your heel and continue on your way to your new bedchamber.

Discomfort sits in his stomach at your use of his formal name, it was as though he wasn’t your husband— a stranger to you almost. He feels guilt reside in him as he reflects on how he would chastise you for calling him terms of endearment that Alys often used. It’s only now as he watches her walk away from him and disappear into her bedchamber that he realises he would give an arm and a leg to hear you call him those names once again.

Much to your dismay, you can barely sleep a wink. You toss and turn against your cold sheets , frustrated and confused as to why you couldn’t sleep soundly in your own space. No longer did you have to sleep stiffly because Aemond was on the other half of your bed. You had all the freedom in the world to sleep, yet you couldn’t even as you tried your hardest to.

You decide to take a walk in the garden to clear your head and hopefully tire yourself out enough to finally rest. Sighing heavily, you admire the warm air that fans against your skin as you quietly make your way down the halls. Your eyes widen slightly as you see his long silver hair, his eye focused on the moonlight that beams through the trees leaves above him. For once in your marriage you seem to finally sync as you realise he couldn’t sleep either, needing the comfort of nature to clear his head.

“You couldn’t rest either?” You hum as you approach him, the leaves crunching beneath your bare feet as you move closer to him. He seems startled at first, exhaling in relief when he recognises his wife’s voice.

“It seems as though I have grown used to the warmth of your body beside mine— your absence has turned me into an insomniac” Aemond admits truthfully, causing something inside of your gut to spark when you hear his words.

“It appears your absence has caused me to have the same troubles” You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest as you look up at the leaves above your head, fascinated by it’s pretty colour.

“We shall grow used to it as time passes” You exhale, hoping that you don’t suffer the same fate tomorrow night. He’s taken aback by your statement, his eye resting on your face.

“Time passes? How long do you intend on being separated?” If you weren’t aware of Aemond’s true feelings toward you, you would almost hear the hint of sadness in his voice as he speaks.

“I was meaning to discuss this matter with you in a week’s time, but seeing as we’re alone and at our most vulnerable— I shall inform you now” Your words cause his pulse to quicken, he involuntarily feels his heart pound as you turn to face him. He didn’t know what to expect.

“I know this marriage wasn’t one formed from a love match. I’m the last person you wished to marry and somehow we still found ourselves betrothed” You sigh heavily, reflecting on the moments you’ve shared as a married couple so far— most, if not all being ones where neither of you were happy.

“Someone else has ahold of your heart, it was never mine to claim and I was foolish for trying to in the first place. This marriage was always destined to fall” You grasp ahold of his hands in yours, the gesture causing your gazes to meet as he finally looks at your face.

“I give you my permission to pursue your beloved Alys, so long as we both continue this marriage for the sake of our family name and duties— nothing more, you are free to love her. I too will do the same, in hopes that I do one day find someone who loves me as much as you love her” You say in finalisation, watching his face for any sign of a reaction.

Aemond’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest at your words, he didn’t know how to feel. You were giving him a golden opportunity on a silver platter, he would get to love his Alys freely— without the guilt of already being a husband and that in itself sounded like heaven to him. Still, he was heavily conflicted. He wanted to confess to you that even with his love to Alys, he still longed for you— his wife that he had watch gradually lose herself because of him. It’s selfish of him to need you both, to want you almost as much as he wants her.

After a moment, Aemond finally nods his head in agreement— the words of truth being trapped in his throat as he fails to utter even a word to you. You give his hands a squeeze before you release your hold on him.

“This matter is settled then” You hum before you pull away from him. You bid him goodnight, your words barely processing in Aemond’s mind as he fails to speak. Instead he watches you walk away in silence, leaving him alone in the garden with his thoughts and his latest regret.

—

a/n: Idk about this ending tbh sorry if it’s meh but the final chapter will be worth it :p

tags <3

In the middle of the storm

Summary: A storm, a hard landing, an unexpected company and many feelings exposed.

A/N: English is not my first language. Sorry for mistakes. Valyrian isn't my language either. Just a detail, although the events of Storm's End happened here in this story, Lucerys is still alive. Because I want it to be and period hahaha have fun!!

Warnings: nsfw, f!reader, reader is a year older than jacaerys, velaryon/strong reader, sex, targcest, aemond very possessive, pet names, dirty talk, some soft feelings ❤️🥰

"Lykirī, ñuhys raqiros." (Calm down, my friend.) You whispered to your dragon, feeling Merax's annoyed snore shake your body gently. An amused laugh leaves your lips as Merax struggles to do as you've asked. You've been gliding beneath the clouds for a while now, the vastness of the night sky your only company. But Merax felt something, he could see and feel much better than you the clouds getting thick and thunder rumbling in the distance, he smelled a strong storm approaching and he was getting agitated trying to somehow warn you about it.

The two of you were coming from a visit to the Riverlands, looking for allies for the Black's. You came back with good news, which was very rare these days. Your spirit was positively uplifted. After many disappointments, finally some good news to give you some hope. You had the support of a great house now, with resources and numbers that would certainly make a difference in the face of a possible clash.

As your brother Jacaerys had said, dragons were decidedly more convincing than ravens sending messages. Merax, with all his size and sturdiness, made a pretty obvious point in his silent threat that things wouldn't end well if the answer was no. And besides, of course you were prepared to offer your own hand in marriage as an offer of alliance, as ridiculous and oppressive as that sounded to you. But a war was about to break out, you couldn't afford to believe that sacrifices weren't necessary. You were willing to do that, if it meant the Lord of Riverrun's support. You'd sell yourself like cattle if you had to, willing to do anything to ensure your mother's victory. His acceptance was all the motivation the other Lords of the Riverlands needed to also swear their loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra again, as they had done years ago when the then King Viserys Targaryen named her his rightful heir.

Yes, you were engaged now, but it could be worse. Your fiancé wasn't nasty as you knew many were. Indeed, Lord Tully was a good-looking young man; tall, auburn hair, beautiful blue eyes. He also had status as a well-recognized house and a great education. And he had treated you very well during the short time you were in Riverrun for the negotiations.

It wasn't the wedding you had dreamed of for yourself. But it could be much worse, you knew.

You felt the wind abruptly getting stronger at the same time as raindrops began to fall hard on your face, pulling you out of your thoughts. Merax growled and shook off his head. You knew your dragon well enough to know he was upset that you hadn't heeded his warnings sooner. "Ziry iksos separ daomikydoso, Merax. Īlon jahor sagon sȳz." (It's just rain, Merax. We'll be fine.) You said at the same time that lightning whizzed right next to both of you, making you jump in fright. Merax roared louder, shaking his black scales in annoyance.

Merax was very protective of you. From the first flight, both formed a strong bond that surprised many. Merax was a full-grown dragon, strong and terrifying. He was not afraid of rain and lightning, not least because there was nothing to fear, since he himself was a force of nature. But he wanted to protect you, he knew you were different from him obviously. Even if Targaryen blood ran through your veins and made you tougher than others, you were still human. And therefore susceptible to disease and disaster which, for a dragon like Merax, wouldn't be a problem. Whenever you both flew in conditions similar to this, he would get irritated and annoyed. You knew he would fly home in that angry, mumbling state. And there was still a long way to go to Dragonstone, you thought with a snort, it would be an irritating journey.

"Nyke tepagon bē, ao uēpa zaldrizes!" (I give up, you old dragon!) Merax seemed to be pleased with your giving up, though he growled at the nickname. You laughed feeling your hair stick to your rain-soaked face. "Ivestragī's jikagon ilagon, Merax!" (To the ground, Merax!) He wasted no time and obeyed you, shrinking his gigantic wings as he descended fast. You spread your arms, trusting the straps around your body so you could enjoy the freezing rain hitting your face harder on the way down, the strength of the wind against you making you let out an excited yelp knowing no one but Merax could hear. It's been a long time since you felt like this, so free. The obligations and pressures of a war knocking at your doors left everyone tense and with no time for fun. But, heavens, you missed it.

Merax spread its wings again as you both neared the ground, and you turned your attention to where you were going. The rain was very heavy, as was the fog, but when you finally managed to see the ground, you realized that you were under a field of crops. Merax continued gliding along the ground for a while until he reached an area with a large lake, some rocks and mountains around it. His huge paws touched the muddy ground once, twice, three times until he finally dug his claws into the ground to stop. You looked around for where you could take shelter and saw that farther away was a ramshackle shack, clearly abandoned. But it had a semi-decent roof, which would serve to quell the storm until it was safe to fly again. At first you were irritated at the thought of stopping the trip for a silly drizzle, but with the gale shaking your body on top of Merax, the torrential rain that was falling now and the thunder and lightning bursting in your ears louder and louder, you agreed to yourself - with a frown on your face - that Merax was right.

But your dragon wasn't relaxed like you thought he would be when you decided to give in and do his bidding. He looked even more tense now, in fact. Wings outstretched, slightly crouched posture and sharp teeth bared in a menacing snarl as he stared up at the sky. He was ready to fight. But what was it here that posed a threat to a terrifying dragon like Merax?

You could barely see a hand in front of you with the rain pouring down the way it was, but even so you brushed your soaked hair out of your eyes and tried very hard to see what threatened Merax.

At first you didn't notice anything. The only sounds you could hear were the rain falling in full force and Merax's growl below your body. But then a familiar roar sounded above your head, a fierce roar that had you straightening your body in Merax's cell, alert.

Vhagar.

You knew it was her, having heard that roar again before. After your aunt's funeral, after your uncle, Aemond, to claim Vhagar and lose his eye for it. You heard her roar when her rider was wounded, and you never forgot it. It was the same roar as now. And if Vhagar was here, so was Aemond. You haven't seen him since the family dinner fiasco where he humiliated you and your brothers. You had nothing against Aemond, in fact you had defended him when you both were children and your brothers along with his brother made cruel jokes with him. But clearly his uncle was no longer the boy he was before, the intentions of his heart being completely unknown to you at this point. Lucerys recounted a cruel pursuit when he was at Storm's End seeking the support of Lord Borros Baratheon. Thank the gods your brother had managed to escape along with Arrax, but it had been close.

You didn't know what Aemond wanted, or even what he was capable of, and even though neither the Blacks nor the Greens had made a violent move against each other yet, you couldn't help but puff your chest out in preparation. What if Aemond decided to do to you what he did to Lucerys? A cruel and malicious pursuit. Merax was a full-grown dragon, much older than you, perhaps he had even battled another dragon before. You couldn't tell. He hadn't had a fitter for many years before you claimed him for yourself. Until then he was considered a wild dragon, without an owner. But anyway since you became his rider, the two of you hadn't fought another dragon directly before. Much less one of Vhagar's size and experience. You knew that in strength you both wouldn't win, as Merax was smaller than her. But maybe if you kept your cool and a objective strategy, you could escape just like Arrax and Lucerys.

How the hell did Aemond know you were here? You didn't even know you'd be here!

Through the haze of the heavy curtain of rain Vhagar crossed above you, much closer this time. Merax roared aloud in defiance and turned his large body to match her movements.

"Lykirī, Merax." You said in a firm tone, trying to calm your dragon who was starting to act on instinct in the face of the possible threat. You knew you couldn't ask him to fly now, the weather wouldn't favor you. You had no option but to wait for Aemond and Vhagar's first move and then act accordingly.

With a loud thud that shook the earth below you, Vhagar landed. Her giant body oozing rivers of water as she shook her head and her wings with a roar. Merax was restless, not knowing exactly what that meant, but deducing that he was hostile. His paws propelled him forward instinctively, though you again said "Lykirī". But he ignored your request - for the first time - and continued on his way to Vhagar, growling and spreading his wings in defiance.

This was too bad.

Aemond's blond head popped out from behind Vhagar's neck and you could see that he was holding tightly to the ropes that connected her body, pulling on them as he shouted a "Dohaerās, Vhagar". He was trying to control her. So he didn't want to fight. It was just two dragons acting on instinct.

This spurred you to action and before Merax approached Vhagar to the point of no return you also firmly gripped the ropes near the cell, lifting your body a little to gain momentum and shouted as sternly as you could: "DOHAERĀS, MERAX!" He hesitated, wanting to continue walking, but confused by your determination to deny him that. "KELĪTĪS!" You ordered him to a stop with a strong tug on the ropes. Your resolve being tested by the dragon, you knew.

Obviously annoyed and still angry, Merax roared but stopped his advance towards the other dragon. Aemond also having succeeded in taming Vhagar, looked at you soaked in his cell.

"But what the hell do you think you're doing, Aemond? You know you shouldn't approach a full-grown dragon like that! Are you wanting to start the war today?!" You shouted from above Merax to Aemond, trying to control your heart that was beating desperately at the possibility of a fight between the two dragons.

Aemond didn't answer you, instead descending from Vhagar with all the mastery and grace that only a Prince and Rider of his level would have. Even if though he looked like a drowned cat. You watched him turn his back on you and walk across the muddy earth towards the run-down shack.

You stared at him open-mouthed, not understanding anything about this situation.

"Are you going to keep screaming like an animal at slaughter or are you going to seek shelter from this storm, niece?" He spoke loudly over the noise of the rain without stopping his walk. Merax seriously torn between facing Vhagar to the death or facing Aemond, fearful he might offer you harm.

"Nyke'll sagon sȳz, nyke kivio. Sagon sȳz naejot se gevie riñnykeā toliot konīr." (I'll be fine, I promise. Be kind to the beautiful Lady over there.) You said fondly, nodding in Vhagar's direction as you smoothed Merax's hard scales. Somehow Vhagar heard your words and growled at you. You widened your eyes and left as quickly as possible, almost running towards the shack. Far be it from you to want to be the target of Grandma Vhagar's wrath.

You entered the house, which had no door or window, both broken into and decaying on the floor. Large piles of hay scattered across the decrepit floor. Streams of rainwater seeping through the wood of the ceiling and the corners of the walls to the floor. It was all crap. But it kept most of the rain outside, and that in itself was a mercy.

Aemond stood by the broken window, no longer wearing his heavy black coat and leather shirt, wearing only a long-sleeved shirt. Hands clasped behind him, posture perfectly upright looking at the gale outside, water still dripping from his hair and clothes. You stood there in the doorway, eyeing him suspiciously, the one-room house being too small to house all the strangeness that had formed around you both over the years. You didn't trust him. He insulted you more than once by calling you a bastard. He almost killed your brother. He was your rival.

"Are you going in or are you going to keep staring at me until the storm passes?" He grumbled without looking at you. Your bored voice unnerved you. You huffed and walked into the house. The sound of the wind on the boards making the house creak in a frightening way, as well as the flashes of lightning.

You walked in circles around the room, feeling soaked to the bone and shivering. Your boots soaked in water, your thick shirt half red and half black weighing your body so wet and your riding pants clinging to your skin in an irritating way, as well as the gloves on your hands.

You were smart, you'd read enough books to know that keeping your clothes wet on your body in this cold weather wasn't going to end well for you. Chills disease being, in most cases, fatal for those who catch it. And it all starts with a cold. You were one step away from entering a war, you couldn't afford to die from a damn cold.

You knew what to do.

But where could you muster the courage to take off your clothes while standing right in front of your slightly psychotic-leaning uncle?

You stood there debating the options, whether it would be better to work up the courage to do what you knew needed to be done or whether it was better to risk catching a disease and dying, when Aemond turned to you.

"I can hear your teeth chattering even over the roar of the storm, child." He said with a cocky smile, not unclasping his hands behind his body.

Child? You two were almost the same age!

"As if you weren't freezing after that storm too, you idiot!" You screamed, offended and embarrassed, trying to control your jaw quivering in the cold.

He just shrugged.

You felt your body shivering more and more, the cold of your clothes getting deeper into your skin as time passed.

"Take it off." he said, suddenly impatient, taking you by surprise.

"N-no!" You responded too quickly to be considered natural. Yes, you knew it had to be done. But hearing the command from his mouth made you irritated and embarrassed.

Aemond sighed, as if the whole situation was beyond him, as if he didn't deserve to be here with you.

"Come on girl. You and I both know it needs to be done. Let's get this over with." He grumbled walking towards you, as if he was going to take off your clothes himself. Your eyes widened like plates and your cheeks heated up when you realized that.

"I do it alone!" Your desperate words left your lips before he could get any closer.

Gathering courage, you undid the click of the chain that held your sodden cloak around your neck, hanging the fabric over one of the many old boards propped up against the wall. Then you bent down and removed your boots and gloves. Never once did you dare lift your eyes to Aemond, or else you would lose your nerve. Being in his presence for some reason made your heart race and your body tingle in a way it shouldn't have. Your fingers were shaking — you told yourself it was just the cold — as you unbuttoned the long-sleeved shirt, slowly pulling it off his shoulders.

God, why was he still standing right there watching everything?

And more importantly, why weren't you yelling at him about it?

You were feeling overwhelmed with emotions, none of which you should be feeling.

With a final sigh you finished pulling the heavy shirt over your arms, and without stopping to think too much, you pulled your pants down too, leaving only a thin, loose shirt that reached mid-thigh. Your arms instantly crossed in front of your breasts as you remembered that the shirt was also wet and therefore transparent. You wouldn't take that shirt off, even if it meant your death. But stark naked in front of Aemond you wouldn't be. In your peripheral vision you noticed him shifting from one foot to the other, looking impatient. You could have sworn you saw him reach out, but he quickly forced her back behind the body.

You didn't have time to think about the bizarre strangeness of the situation, as he quickly turned around and picked up a pile of hay, placing it in the center of the room, gathering some sticks and rubbing them together trying to generate a spark . Understanding what he was going to do, you felt yourself relax a little, the thought of warming up a bit being very welcome at this point. Targaryen blood or not, the cold was more than you could bear.

Soon you found yourself watching with totally unexpected fascination the mesmerizing way in which Aemond's large hands - thickly veined, you couldn't help noticing - twirled the sticks deftly over the dry hay. The way he gently blew to help sparks turn to flame. The way he seemed to do it easily, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. He gave you a tranquility and control of the situation that left you not knowing what to think.

A flame finally appeared among the hay and Aemond quickly surrounded it with the palm of his hand to keep the wind from blowing it out. He gathered more hay until that flame was higher, then put some sticks and wood chips he found on the ground to make the flame last longer.

You standing around the whole time watching in awe.

When the fire was strong enough to sustain itself, Aemond stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. Just like that.

You haven't had the time or mental preparation to see Aemond's sculpted chest and muscled abs to perfection. His skin glistened with the wetness of the rain against the fire's flames, creating a mesmerizing shadow. White hair clinging to shoulders and chest. He bent down to take off his boots - by divine mercy he left his pants in place - then stood up and turned his back on you. You gasped when you realized he was taking off his eye patch. He gathered his long hair in his hands and wrung out any excess water. Then he put the eye patch back in place and turned to you again.

Still not speaking, he sat down against the wall, facing the fire. You didn't know what to do, the roar of the storm still loud outside preventing you from leaving, but the awkwardness of being practically naked with Aemond in this abandoned cabin also didn't let you relax.

You should have stayed one more day in Riverrun.

"Sit down before you freeze in that position, niece." Aemond grunted, leaning his head against the wall and closing his violet eye. "Come here by my side and warm up." His words could have been interpreted as concern for you if he hadn't said it so bored. But he was right, you would really end up freezing like that. With your arms still covering your breasts, you moved closer until you crouched down and sat next to him, keeping a safe distance of course.

You stood there in total silence for a long time, long enough for you to feel your hair starting to dry. He still has his eyes closed - maybe even sleeping - and you're staring at the flames slowly consuming the pieces of wood. You had the urge to go see Merax many times during this period, but you held back. He was a full-grown dragon, he knew his way around much better than you.

Hearing the creaking of wood between the flames you glanced sideways at your unwanted companion, watching the adam's apple rise and fall slowly as he swallowed once, his hair a bit disheveled now as it began to dry without the aid of a brush, his arms supported on both bent knees. Oh, the defined muscles of his arms, firm forearms with prominent veins.

You really needed to go.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond would also stare at you when you weren't paying attention, watching the way you hugged your knees to your chest, the way you rested your head on them as you stared into the flames. Your half-dry hair rebels around your face, your eyes reflecting the fire's flames, your smooth skin flushed...

There was a tension between the two of you, and that tension increased with every second you were trapped in this cabin.

You turned your head again to look at him, but this time you found him with his eye open, already looking at you. The shock of seeing his violet eye glowing with the firelight was so great that you sighed and couldn't take your eyes off it.

"What were you doing in the Riverlands?" He asked slowly, not taking his eye off yours.

You knew this moment would come. Two rivals trapped under the same roof without trying to get information from each other? It was impossible to remain like this for long.

"You know very well what I went to do, uncle." You said lifting your chin in defiance.

"Hmm." He said still very calm, looking you up and down, making you feel uneasy. "I was planning to pay a visit to the Riverlands myself soon." His voice sounded superb, as if he knew he had more to offer than you. It irritated you.

"I find it difficult for Lord Tully to consider a better offer than marrying his eldest son to a Targaryen, his grandchildren will have dragons and his son will be King consort once I am Queen, as I am in the line of succession to the Iron Throne." You said it loud and clear, daring him to retort.

In fact you never boasted about being in the line of succession to the throne. You were, unfortunately, a year older than Jacaerys, being your mother's rightful heir and therefore next in line. But unlike your brother, you didn't want to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You never made a point of reminding anyone of that. But the pleasure of finally getting a thrill out of Aemond, seeing his pupil dilate at your words and his jaw tense, made it worth using your ace up your sleeve.

"Are you engaged to the Tully boy?" He repeated his words slowly, as if he was struggling to keep calm.

You didn't think that would be the part he would fixate on. The question of who would sit on the Iron Throne was the point you imagined your two discussion would focus on.

"First of all, he's not a boy. Lord Edward Tully is a man. And yes, I'm engaged to him. Not that it concerns you, dear uncle." You said the last part muttering, turning your attention to the flames of the bonfire.

"You're fighting to be the fucking Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and you intend to have a scum of Tully for a husband? Is that serious?!" He looked angry, his words carrying a weight that left you shivering and alert.

"What does it matter to you who will be my husband, Aemond?" You said standing up, which he responded by standing up too. His height intimidated you, but you would never let him see it. "This is war, in case you haven't noticed! We need allies. I know even you understand that, since your visit to Storm's End wasn't just to offer pompous words to Lord Borros, or to threaten my brother in a stupid pursuit, I suppose." In your rage you forgot the indecency of your clothes and dropped your hands in front of your body, only realizing it when Aemond lowered his heated gaze to your breasts.

You tried to cross your arms again, but he was faster. Aemond took you by the arm and shoved you hard into the wall, your head banging uncomfortably on the weathered wood. But you didn't have time to think about that because Aemond's tall, hot body was soon on top of yours, pinning you down. The heat of his bare chest against you, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your face, the other cupping your chin. His face coming too close to yours, too close.

You feared what he would do to you now. You were at a disadvantage here, your dagger still stuck in your pants, now drying away from you. Your recklessness in letting your guard down near the enemy could cost you dearly.

His chest pressed your body even closer to the wall, the two of you so close it would be hard for even a hair to get between you. His mouth went to your ear, his hand still gripping your jaw tightly.

"You're shaking so much, princess." He said slowly against the sensitive skin of your ear, the soft brush of his lips and hot breath sending an intense shiver through your body. You had no answer to his statement. "humm" he let out an amused growl against your neck as he dragged his nose along your skin. "You know, a princess like you deserves better than a shitty marriage to a miserable lord." He said before licking your neck, making you sigh and instinctively recoil at the unexpected sensation. This was so wrong.

"I don't understand… Why do you care so much about this? Why now?" Your fragile voice leaving your throat as you felt him leave a mark on your skin. Your hands went to his shoulders, feeling his skin tight and warm. Your intention was to push him away from you, but Aemond chose that moment to push a knee between your legs, which made you cling to him instead of pushing. He forced you to spread your legs to accommodate his between yours. Even though you had every reason in the world to refuse, you found yourself leaving.

"You've always been a fierce little thing, haven't you? Always speaking your mind and chasing what you want." He lifted his head from your neck to stare at you, even as his knee pressed against the sensitive spot between your legs, the damp fabric of his pants rubbing against your most intimate area. "But not with me. You've always treated me well, even defending me when I needed to." He caressed your nose with his, thumb circling your cheek. "I will not let any lord take what was always rightfully mine." The last words whispered into your mouth before he pulled your into his.

You knew this was wrong, he was a threat to you and your family. He was arrogant and stubborn. Your brother had almost died because of him. He thought you were nothing but a bastard.

You knew all this. And yet, you found yourself responding to the kiss.

Aemond's slightly chapped lips touched yours with purpose, after all he wasn't one for subtlety. His mouth devoured yours hungrily, forcing you to part your lips for air, and at that moment his tongue invaded your mouth. You stood on tiptoe to facilitate the kiss, one hand holding his neck and the other going to the back of his head, where you grabbed some of the damp hair and tugged. The hoarse groan he released into your mouth electrified you, left you hungry for more. You could barely breathe, the way he licked your mouth, encouraging your tongue to dance with his, making you dizzy with need.

Heavens, the frustrated experience of kissing the baker's son definitely didn't compare to this.

Aemond's big hands went under your shirt, gripping your waist and forcing your body to rub against his leg, nearly making you straddle his thigh. You pulled away from the kiss and slammed your head against the wood behind you, closing your eyes and moaning as you felt your clit brush hard against the rough fabric of his pants. Almost to the point of hurting, but it only served to turn you on even more.

You ran your hands over his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles and watching him shiver as you dragged your nails across his abdomen. His forehead pressed against yours, his violet gaze never leaving yours as he breathed faster. Grinning mischievously you continued your hand down until you touched the big bulge inside his pants, closing your hand around it. Aemond growled into your lips as you gasped in surprise at the size of him.

He suddenly pushed his way between your bodies to unbutton his pants and pull his cock out, always looking at you. Grabbing your buttocks he pulled your body up until you wrapped your legs around him. You moaned loudly as you felt him drag his hard cock against your soaking pussy, up and down, dragging hot skin against your clit.

"I want to hear you moan my name, love. Say who's making you feel good." His voice was husky and slurred as he kissed your ear.

"A-Aemond..." You sighed, moaning each time you felt the hot head of his cock nudging your sensitive clit. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over your head, leaving your breasts visible to him.

"Look at this love, and you want me to accept that this is going to belong to another man?" He growled and lowered his head to lick your nipple, holding it in his mouth and swirling his tongue. You tried to move your hips faster, but Aemond had an iron grip on you, forcing you to accept what he gave.

"Aemond, please more…more…" You begged, tugging at the root of his hair, trying to get him to look at you. He released your breasts and looked at you, his violet iris being almost entirely dark with need.

"Look at this, love, look at our bodies together, where they belong…" He whispered, forcing you to look at where his cock rose and fell against your intimacy. "Fuck baby, you're so wet. It must be fucking heaven inside you." He growled without taking his eyes from the junction of your bodies, just like you. The eroticism of the situation making you cringe in need around nothing.

"But I won't." He said and you felt euphoric, desperate to think he would deny you that. "I'm not going to take your virginity in a ramshackle tent, baby. No, I'm going to fuck you for the first time in a bed, damn, how the spoiled fucking princess you are deserves to be fucked." He continued to rub his cock into you, making you clench your legs in anticipation of the coming orgasm, your moans getting louder. Your arousal was such that his cock slid easily between your folds. "So be a good girl and come on my cock right here, now, love." He said continuously slamming his cock into your clit, sending you straight into a spiral of pleasure. Your needy moan sounded loud in the cabin as your body shook, your pussy contracting rhythmically with nothing inside, your hands gripping Aemond's hair tightly.

He laughed breathlessly, ecstatic to see your fall and allowing himself to fall too. Thick, white cords of come painted the skin of your belly, running down to your pussy as he moaned hoarsely. Aemond smeared as much of his seed as he could on your body, the knowledge that you were going to go home with his dry cum under your clothes driving him crazy.

Your legs were still shaking as he sat on the floor with you still on his lap, your mouths meeting in a wet, slow kiss. Your bodies now wet with sweat instead of rainwater.

You leaned your forehead against his, trying to control your ragged breathing. Aemond kissing the contours of her jaw and neck with a caress you'd never expect from him.

The whole experience had been surreal for you. The fact that you'd been trapped in an abandoned cabin with your uncle, argued, and that argument had led to the two of you committing such a blatant act of obscenity, horrified you now. But at the same time you were ecstatic to have done the craziest thing of your life. You were always a rule breaker, there was no denying it.

But the war between the family was still going on, you knew. This interaction between the two of you could go nowhere.

"What are you thinking, princess?" Aemond saw your expression change, he knew you were trapped in your own emotions. His big hand cupped your face and pulled your lips down for a gentle kiss.

"That doesn't change a thing, Aemond. I'm still going to marry Edward Tully, I hope you know that." You said, trying to convince not him but yourself too.

Aemond frowned, his expression suddenly dark. But he soon masked it with a sly, wicked smile.

"That's what we'll see, niece."

Persuasion

Summary: Aemond protects those he cares about ruthlessly. You are no exception. So he will have the truth, or someone’s head. Maybe both.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Overprotective Aemond. Edging. Orgasm denial. Oral sex. Breeding kink (implied)

Word count: 2k

“Do not tell Prince Ameond.”

“Do not worry, my lady. My lips are sealed,” Grand Maester Mellos bowed lightly, gathering his ointments and bandages.

“Do not tell Prince Aemond what?”

By the door frame stood Prince Aemond Targaryen, arms crossed, and a dangerously calm look on his face.

Maester Mellos knew better, and Aemond’s seemingly composed demeanor was not to be trifled with.

The old man froze in place, glaring at the young prince as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm.

Clearing his throat, he greeted with a bow. “Prince Aemond… welcome back.”

He turned his eye to you. “I’m waiting.”

You huffed in annoyance, knowing far too well that he would turn something trivial into an unnecessary ordeal.

Because as far as Aemond Targaryen was concerned, your safety was paramount, and he would not have it any other way.

“Thank you, Maester Mellos,” you smiled warmly, trying to ease his nerves.

He merely hurried to make his way out, but Aemond barred the door, eyeing the man in front of him with a deadly stare.

“Aemond,” you called out, shifting to sit on your bed.

The Targaryen prince clicked his tongue, eventually stepping to the side. “Hmm.”

The poor old man was now visibly shaking, and nearly made a run for it once the pathway was made clear.

“That was uncalled for,” you half-scolded.

The door shut behind him, and he came to take a sit by your side, his face twisted into a serious expression. “What do you not want me to know, then.”

But before you could reply, his eye landed on your hands and you could swear you saw a hint of rage crossing his face.

“Who did this to you?” Poison coated his low voice, sending shivers across your spine.

He took your bruised hands in his, closely inspecting the damage to your knuckles.

It looked far worse than it felt. “I was sparring with Ser Criston. Just for fun,” you revealed, meeting his eye. “It was nothing much. This will heal soon.”

“He did this to you?” he sounded uncharacteristically… calm.

“No.”

Aemond’s tender fingers wrapped around your wrists, anger slipping through the cracks. “Then who?”

It would be much easier to give into the pressure, but you knew fully well that if you were to reveal who had been on the receiving hand of your fist, he’d simply storm out, not caring that the short amount of time you had to spend with with would be ruined.

“Let's forget about this for tonight,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I've missed you so much.”

Aemond rose to his feet, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go ask Maester Mellos, then? I’m sure he’d be much willing to talk.”

Rolling your eyes, you held him in place by tugging at his leather coat.

“Leave the poor man alone and fuck me instead.”

You pulled him towards you by his pants, slightly wincing as pain shot through your bruised hand.

“Tell me who it was.”

Deciding to ignore him, you parted you legs to accommodate him, resting your chin on his stomach. “Prince Aemond… I need you,” you pouted.

The hold you had on the young prince was such that had Queen Alicent fear that it might break her beloved son.

And nothing pleased you more than knowing you could bend him to your will with just the right amount of persuasion.

It didn't take long before he started panting lightly as you began caressing his crotch through the fabric, enjoying your touch and how you so skillfully and rapidly had his cock harden.

His eye fluttered shut, and he removed each layer of clothing from his body, until he got to his pants.

“Do not stare at me like that. I might lose it,” he groaned, bringing his thumb to caress your lips.

Your walls reflexively clenched around nothing, and you felt your clit swell in anticipation.

His toned torso gleamed of a faint mix of warm colours that emanated from the candles spread around you, and you couldn’t help to place the softest kiss on the think hair of silver that spread below his navel.

Aemond undid his pants to ease the tension on his cock before tossing the garment aside.

“Will you not tell me?” he asked, slowly dropping to his knees as your eyes were fixed on his thick and leaking cock.

With both hands on each thigh, he further spread you apart, dragging the fabric of your chemise up your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.

You knew what came next, and readied yourself by leaning back, supporting your weight with your arms.

Aemond pressed soft kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your folds.

He was staring intensely at you. “Last chance to tell me, my lady.”

You could feel his breath on you. “What does that mean…”

“Who hurt you?”

Aegon had been the one to meet your fist after he decided it would be smart to badmouth his brother in front of you. Not even Ser Criston Cole moved to defend the future king. He had deserved it.

But the last thing on your mind was Aegon and his ridiculous antics.

Aemond did not answer your question, as he pressed a kiss to your folds.

“How is it so swollen already?” he growled, parting your folds to reveal your throbbing clit. “Do you like me on my knees that much?”

He had such a way with words that you reckoned you might be pushed over the edge from the sound of his voice and lewd words.

You bucked your hips into him as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance for a brief moment before he dragged it to lick your clit.

The sight of having the young prince hungrily eating you was enough to ignite the coil in your lower abdomen.

His tongue slipped inside you, as his nose was pressed against the sensitive bud, teasing it with each slurp.

“Right there… Gods…” you threw your head back in sheer pleasure.

The pressure on your lower half was such that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Aemond…”

Just as you we were about to plunge into blinding bliss, you felt him draw away from you. The immediate loss of touch earning a strangled cry from you, your clit demanding attention again.

At first, you thought it was merely his intent do shift positions, so he could be buried deep within you and having your walls contract around him from your release.

However, by the time he was on top of you, dragging the thing underside of his cock along your folds, yet refusing to enter you, that’s when you realised something was off.

“Please… please…” you nearly yelled, wrapping your legs around his waist to increase the friction.

But Aemond paid no mind to your pleas, and kept rolling his hips while sucking gently on your neck.

The moment he heard your gasps getting louder and breathier, he halted, kissing away the tears that had started to flow from the overstimulation.

He lifted his hips as to avoid his cock from touching you at all, and you felt the urge to smack him.

“What are you doing,” you cried out, vision blurry and chest heaving rapidly.

He pressed his lips to your cheek in such adoration, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Do not underestimate my feelings for you,” whispered in a warning tone. “I would start a war for you.”

Others might brush that aside as an overstatement, but Aemond Targaryen did not utter empty threats.

That revelation sent you pushing your hips to his, urging him to have his cock on you once more.

Suddenly, his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, as he suddenly pinned your arms above your face.

You eyes widened in utter shock. “Aemond….”

“It seems we are in a bit of a predicament, lady wife,” he purred, lips nearly touching yours. “You seek release, but I shall not give it to you until you tell me who hurt you.”

At this, you tried to wriggle away from his grip. “Oh… fuck you!”

“I want that, too,” he said teasingly. “But first, you need to tell me a name.”

He chuckled at the evident agony in your eyes stilling your hips with other hand.

“And you will not be able to have your release by yourself without your hands,” he said, giving your wrists a squeeze. “Your choice.”

Your clit throbbed desperately in between your folds, craving his touch, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his cock drippings strings of precum onto your abdomen.

He was just as desperate to have you, and you were perplexed that he had such self control.

Seeing that you refused to cooperate, he lowered himself into you, his cock pressed down on your clit as your folds enveloped it.

“Gods… just move…” you growled in despair, tugging at your hands in an attempt to break free from his grip.

Surprisingly, he did as you asked, rolling his hips slowly. You tried to mimic the motion just so you could get to your point of no return.

But Aemond knew your body too well. He knew exactly what made you tick, and how your body would respond.

He stopped moving at once, heaving a frantic wail from you as your release got put on hold once more.

“Aegon! I threw a punch at Aegon,” you blurted out in between sobs as your sensitive clit throbbed against his cock. “He was uttering nonsense about you and—”

“You punched my brother?”

You opened your eyes to see surprised on his face, with a hint of amusement. He then released the grip on your wrists and brought one of your hands closer to his face, rubbing your sore knuckles with his thumb.

“That’s my girl,” he laughed, planting a kiss on each knuckle. “You should have told me right away.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you would have gone after him. I want you here… with—”

He immediately cut you off with a burning kiss, and just as quickly, he angled his hips to bury himself inside you.

The overstimulation and denied releases had left your body so sensitive that it was as if everything stung and you had to bite your lip hard to muffle your cries.

He ground mercilessly into you, breaking the kiss and removing the eyepatch.

“Look at me.”

You were met with the sapphire in place of his left eye, and knew that he was close the moment his arms faltered, and he nearly collapsed on top of you, speeding up and gripping your hips as he pumped in a final broken rhythm.

Taking your face in your hands, you had your lips caress the long scar, knowing fully well he had grown used to you showing him how much you adore every single inch of him.

“So tight…” he groaned.

You then watched in marvel as his mouth fell open in a quick hiss as he stilled inside you, filling you to the brim.

Feeling his cock twitching inside you violently as he spilled his cum inside, drove you over the edge until your vision blurred in waves of colours, tearing the room with a sharp cry of pleasure.

Aemond managed to regain some composure as he lifted your lower half and placed a pillow underneath your backside.

“Stay like this for a while,” he said, slowly sliding out of you.

Your breathing came out in erratic pants and you felt him gently pushing inside some of the cum that had spilled with his fingers.

At this pace, it would not be long before your belly would start to swell with his child.

He caressed your face with his hand, as he brought his lips to press a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Avy jorrāelan.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could return the gesture, Aemond slid off the bed, rapidly getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” you asked, shifting to your side, a gush of cum spilling from you.

“On my way to behead my dear brother.”

You groaned in exasperation. “Aemond!”

love lost - aemond targaryen.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader.

warnings: mentions of rape.

summary: you are forced to see Aemond after six long years much to your dismay after finding out you are still to be wed to him.

word count: 2200+

a/n: reader is adopted by Rhaenyra and Daemon. I personally couldn't force myself to write such direct incest lol.

(X)

An incessant ringing sounds in your ears, a mild throbbing in the back of your head signalling the start of an oncoming headache as your mother Rhaenyra reaffirms what you had most hoped no longer stood.

“No, no, no,” you mumble in your seat, shaking your head in denial and pushing your palms into your eyes.

“I thought-,” you cut yourself off, leaning back in your chair and pinching at the bridge of your nose. “I thought when we left King’s Landing that my betrothal to Aemond Targaryen would be null and void.”

“Now, why would you think that?” Daemon raises a barely visible brow at you.

“Because it’s been six years!” you argue, fixing your sharp gaze on your parents.

“Six long years since we’ve left King’s Landing and not once was there mention of my betrothal to him. One would naturally assume that it ceases to exist especially when another was put forward. Albeit he is not longer but, that's not the point. Now, suddenly because we have to go back, I’m to find out that I am still to be wed to that halfwit.”

“That halfwit is to be your husband,” Daemon mocks.

Your cheeks burn in anger, but you say nothing to him, knowing it would get you nowhere. Instead, you intentionally turn your now softened gaze to Rhaenyra in the hopes of garnering some sympathy from her for she knew what it was once like to be in your position.

“Mother, please,” you plead but, your gaze hardens just as quickly as it softened when she’s blocked from your view by Daemon.

“That’s enough. You like your siblings will do your duty to this family. So be it if that duty means marrying Aemond Targaryen then that is your duty and that is the end of this conversation.”

-

You sigh heavily into your drink, eyes downcast and watching the amber liquid slosh against the glass of your cup as you swivel it around in your grip. The false niceties for the sake of your adoptive…. Grandfather? Uncle? You weren’t sure what to call him since your mother married Daemon but, the false niceties had taken its toll and you simply couldn’t feign friendliness any longer as you sat beside your betrothed who’d been ignoring you all night.

“Is there a problem?” Aemond bites out, head turning to finally acknowledge you.

“Yes,” you sigh dramatically into your drink for what you think to be the hundredth time that night.

Swivelling the cup one last time, you drain it of its remaining liquid then place it on the table, laying your hand flat at its base and looking back at Aemond. You narrow your eyes at him, briefly mimicking the look of annoyance on his face which is met with a scowl. While he scowls at you, you take the time to study his features, observing all the way in which his face had changed since the last time you saw him in Driftmark.

Your relationship with Aemond hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when the prospect of being married to one another was all the two of you had wanted. Of course, things had changed when you had steadfastly stood by your brothers (and at the time, cousins) the night Aemond lost his eye. Perhaps you were to blame for the downfall of the relationship between you two - many did say you should've stood by him. But then you remembered his promise.

“You are the problem,” you groan.

You probably wouldn’t be so bold if you hadn’t been steadily becoming more wine drunk with little to no filter standing between your thoughts and your mouth and if Aemond wasn’t irritated with you before, you were certain he was now. What was otherwise a handsome face marred by the ugly twist of his mouth. If looks could kill…

He says nothing right away, his face relaxing back into the cool expression he seemed to always wear nowadays, and you steel yourself for whatever insult he’s sure to throw at you but, it doesn’t come.

Your… conversation interrupted by a hand being placed over your own on the table, and you sober immediately, skin crawling at the older Targaryen boy. You had made it a point to avoid him the entire night, well aware of his indecencies. But, as Helaena danced with your younger brother, Aegon had you cornered between himself and Aemond and if Aemond’s behaviour towards you tonight was anything to go by, he would be of no help.

“Y/N,” Aegon practically coos at you, and it takes everything for you to stop yourself from vomiting all the wine you had drunk, on him.

“Aegon,” you speak with a clipped tone.

Instead of being deterred by your lack of response, Aegon takes it upon himself to drag his chair closer to you. You don’t realise you were moving too until your chair knocks into Aemond’s, your own knee knocking into his thigh. If Aegon could sense your revulsion, he didn’t show it. Although you were sure the depraved boy was likely finding joy in it.

“It’s been so long. Had I known you would blossom into such a beautiful young thing who enjoyed indulging in the cup as much as I did, I might have asked that your hand be given to me instead of young Aemond’s here,” he caresses your hand between both of his.

“Although I hear my brother is in the business of making people who are not him in your life disappear,” he chuckles, eyes flickering to Aemond.

“And if you were not my brother, I would make you disappear too,” Aemond grins. “Now remove your hands from Y/N or I will remove them from you.”

You groan in disgust, standing abruptly in your chair. Perhaps you should've been grateful for Aemond's defence but, it only served as a reminder of what he had done in the past. The sound of the chair’s scrapes are lost amongst the noise, everyone else too engrossed in their own doings to know what was happening at your end of the table and, you use it to your advantage to sit yourself amongst your younger siblings.

“Seven hells,” you exhale loudly, slumping in your new seat.

“Not having fun, sister?” Luke asks, filling your cup for you.

You nod in gratitude, taking the cup in hand, “oh brother, you have no idea.”

Leaning closer to him, you speak low enough for only your siblings to hear, “let’s just say I would give an eye to be anywhere else but here.”

Laughter erupts amongst you all, catching the eye of Aegon and briefly Aemond but, the night carries on. Everything fine for a few more moments until all hell broke loose with Aemond’s final tribute.

-

The quiet of the Red Keep during the night is a stark contrast to its bustling nature throughout the day. The only sounds being the echo of your shoes on the stone pavements as you navigate the secret passageways back to your room. The long walk much needed to clear your thoughts after the turn supper had taken and then the argument with your mother and Daemon that followed.

While you thought the obvious outcome would be to call off your betrothal to Aemond after the insults flung at your brothers, your mother thought otherwise with the seeming resurgence of her friendship with Alicent.

The heavy door creaks on its hinges and closes with a dull thud as you try but fail to be quiet, hoping that no one in your family would hear it from their rooms. But that becomes the furthest thing from your mind when Aemond Targaryen is sitting in front of the fireplace of your room.

“I do believe you have a fireplace in your own rooms,” you quip.

Crossing the room to the large bed, you finger at the night gown laid out by your handmaidens – all of them now gone to bed due to the late hour.

“It’s dangerous enough as it is to be wondering the grounds of the Red Keep during the hour of the owl and yet you also insist on doing it alone,” he scolds from where he sits, gaze fixed intensely on the flames and ignoring your earlier comment.

You breathe a short laugh.

“and yet,” you mock. “I wasn’t alone, was I?”

Turning to face him, he’s already looking back at you as your fingers close around the end of the bedframe.

“Mmm… someone has to look out for you.”

“Is that what you call it?” you narrow your eyes at him, fingers now tapping irritably against the wooden frame.

“If you have something to say… say it,” Aemond taunts.

You open your mouth ready to fire back but, hesitate. In your sober state, you were able to actually hold a conversation but, you didn’t hold the same bravado you did earlier in the evening and quite frankly you just wanted to sleep. You roll your eyes, turning your back on him and sweeping your hair over your shoulder.

“Help me undress, my handmaidens have gone to bed,” you call him over.

You wait patiently, tension thickening as he gets closer, each step heavy and purposeful. When his fingers brush at the hair at the base of your neck, goosebumps spread across your skin.

“You anger with me is misplaced,” Aemond mutters gruffly.

He begins to undo the back of your dress, trying to focus on being careful in undoing the intricate design that holds it together and not your exposed skin.

“I hardly think so after what you did at supper earlier tonight.”

“Tonight?” he tuts, his hand pausing to graze the partially exposed skin of your back. “Tonight, is not why you’re angry with me.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his touch. You want to protest but, have no energy to. It would be a losing fight anyway because he’s right, it wasn’t why you were angry with him but, saying it out loud made you feel silly. When you don’t respond, Aemond continues.

“Between the two of us, if anyone should be holding onto anger and grudges it should be me. You did lie about what happened that night Luke took my eye,” he reminds you.

“I made amends for that,” you defend.

“I know. Sapphires. Which I’ve grown quite fond of.”

Sapphires indeed, ones you had sent him in various shapes and sizes in place of his eye. An apology without apologising.

Turning to face him, you place a hand on his chest, the other reaching for his eyepatch. You don’t worry about your dress or dignity, knowing that he hadn’t undone enough of it for it to fall.

You wait for him to pull away from your touch, but he doesn’t. You allow your hand to gently touch the leather eye patch, waiting a beat before finally removing it.  The scar might’ve been hideous on any other face and, it is hideous but, it doesn’t do anything to take away from his appearance. He certainly doesn’t look the beast that so, many claim.

“I loved him truly,” you drop your hands to your side. “the last one that you took from me. He made me happy.”

“Your happiness with him was fleeting,” he utters, eyes trained on you as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand trails down to your cheek, caressing softly before it continues its journey along your jawline and finally resting at the base of your neck.

“So, you can stop feigning anger with me.”

“How did we get here?” you mumble, searching his eyes.

The tension suffocates the two of you. Aemond’s breath fanning across your lips and, you don’t even know when he got so close. His lips ghost yours and you involuntarily lean into him but, you're held back by his hand that has snaked its way from the front of your neck to the back.

“We loved one another once. We will learn to love one another again,” and with that Aemond closes the distance between your lips.

The kiss is desperate but tender and, he holds you to him like he will never let you go.

For all that he has done, promises that he made to ensure that you would not be happy after undeniably going against him, he still carries a torch for you – his love is not lost and when you kiss him back with as much urgency and fervour, he knows your love for him is not either.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

© bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

— 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄.

gif credit.

© inklovins 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.

synopsis: aemond targaryen wanted to possess you, claim you as his -- and what the dragon wants, he shall get.

author’s note: heey! this is my first time posting my writing on here.. im a bit nervous, but very excited. i really hope u enjoy reading it. also, pls reblog, comment + leave ur feedback! it’d mean the world to me if u did. thank u so much for taking the time to read & visiting my blog! lots of love. ♡

warnings: minors dni. sexual tension. fingering. teasing. female pronouns. possessive behavior. dark themes. stalking (kind of). aemond makes you have a panic attack over him intentionally. innocent!reader. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

parings: aemond targaryen x handmaiden reader (f).

— MASTERLIST. • make a request here.

♡࿐ the castle was lively with noble lords and ladies, most of them ignoring you, in favor of socializing with the higher ranks to make alliances between different royal houses. most didn’t even spare you a glance, which you were most thankful for.

the ones who did acknowledge your existence–there were very few–nodded their head in a polite greeting, which you had stopped and curtsied back in respect, muttering a small ‘my lord’ or a ‘my lady’.

which of course–as obviously predicted–filled their massive egos as they walked away with their noses up in the air. of course, no one ever actually bowed to you, you were nothing but a young servant girl, born from a low ranking family.

however, you always preferred to remain unseen, better to be unseen and avoid trouble, than to be seen and cause chaos.

you had just been dismissed, as you finished accompanying queen helaena on her daily walk through the gardens. the queen loved spending time outdoors, and it seemed only right, she was always at peace when she was in nature and the sunshine did her good.

the hallways of the red keep were long as you made your way to the massive library, your footsteps light as air as you walked. the closer you got, the less people there were and you were thankful, never having been too comfortable with tons of people around.

as you continued walking, swiftly turning a corner and heading towards the last flight of stairs that led to the library, you got the sudden feeling as if you were being followed.

naturally, you hurried your footsteps, sneaking a glance behind you and not seeing anyone. nonetheless, you quickly climbed up the stairs, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. you snapped your neck to the side as you started hearing light footsteps approaching, though you did not see anyone behind you once again, making you think you were crazy.

huffing in frustration, you had just stepped off the last stair, about to round the corner, looking down the hallway and seeing it completely empty. you turned your body slightly around to look back down the staircase, making sure there was nobody actually following you.

thankfully, you saw nobody. perhaps it had just been your mind playing tricks on you, though you couldn’t shake the feeling of a sharp gaze piercing your back. releasing a shaky breath, a bone numbing chill went down your spine, making you wrap your arms around yourself, before you turned back around to finally head towards your destination.

without warning, a pale hand snatched out towards you, wrapping around your waist and pushing you against the nearest secluded wall, causing you to let out a high pitched scream in fear. the hand that grabbed you quickly moved from your waist to cover your mouth, silencing your cries.

you saw a flash of platinum blonde hair from the corner of your eye, causing your wide eyes to look up, seeing none other than prince aemond targaryen, standing casually before you.

the prince stood tall, tilting his head down to look at you with a smirk across his lips. he pressed his body against yours, holding you between the hard stone wall and his lean but well muscled body.

“i’ll remove my hand only if you promise not to scream again,” the prince said, his tone soft but firm.

you nodded your head as best you could, not understanding what was happening.

the prince simply cocked his head sideways, his eye slightly narrowing as he looked over your current frightened state. only a moment passed, the prince letting out a pleased hum as if he saw what he was looking for, before removing his hand from your mouth.

“prince aemond,” you breathed, your body falling limp against the wall behind you.

“lady [name],” the prince purred, looking completely satisfied with himself, like the cat who got the cream.

you swallowed nervously, shifting your feet from side to side, but stopped shortly as you could barely move. “did you need something from me, my prince?”

the prince sighed, amusement slowly spreading across his handsome face. “yes, in fact.. i did. correct me if i’m wrong, but have you been avoiding me, my lady?”

you cursed yourself in your head, before immediately shaking your head no. “of course n-not, my prince. i was just going to visit the library–“

“oh, i am not talking about right this moment, my sweet. i am referring to the past few weeks. every single time i have sought you out, you had the brilliant idea to turn around rather abruptly and scurry away from me as if you were a scared little girl,” he scolded, making you feel incredibly small against him.

the prince paused, watching your face with a sharp eye, before continuing on his rant. “…and let us not forget yesterday,” he seethed, a flash of anger beginning to taint his words. “when you deliberately rushed out of my dear sister’s chambers, without even being dismissed,” he tsked, teasingly. you did not say anything in response, feeling as if you had lost all brain function with the close proximity of the prince.

his clean, but masculine scent surrounded you, causing your mouth to water as you could also smell honey and sweet lemon cakes. his scent completely overwhelmed your senses, making you feel almost dizzy, especially with his handsome face only mere inches away from yours.

when you couldn’t didn’t reply back, the prince raised an eyebrow as if taunting you to try and defend yourself and your most heinous–(according to him)–actions.

“nothing to say, hm?”

you gulped, your lips parting slightly as if to speak, before snapping shut when words did not come out.

what was wrong with you?

“it is highly offensive to not answer your prince when he is addressing you, my lady,” he chastised, as if you were a child misbehaving.

in his point of view, you probably were.

“what? do you not even want to try and defend your most ill-mannered actions? have you not come to the realization that your blatant lack of respect is incredibly unacceptable to me?” he growled, voice rising in anger.

you should’ve known better, waking up the dragon.

“do you not wish for my forgiveness?” he hissed, his words aimed to hurt you.

you flinched as he scolded you like a father would to their child who had done something naughty – unforgivable.

each word he said was direct and targeted towards you, making a small, tortuous whine escape your lips. your cheeks flushed in shame and your head started to spin, you were sure you would die from embarrassment.

“i’m so s-sorry, my prince. of course n-not.. i was just – i was not… no,” you panicked, feeling pathetic and most of all embarrassed from your constant stuttering and shaky voice.

you felt so stupid.

“i swear, i was not trying to be disrespectful towards you, i-i don’t… i did not mean to run away from you, i promise!“ you cried, feeling yourself practically choking on the saliva in your mouth, your fingertips tingling by your sides and your heart was pounding against your ribcage rapidly.

“please, prince aemond.. i never meant any disrespect. i was just.. i was o-only–“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, feeling like your airway was closing. you tried explaining yourself, though everything you were saying sounded like it made little sense and your words were a garbled mess.

hot tears began to pool in your eyes as the prince just watched in shameless amusement as you choked and fumbled over your words, trying to the best of your ability to explain your poor, pathetic self.

graciously, the one-eyed prince showed you mercy.

“alright, alright… shh. you’re alright, little one. i believe you,” the prince cooed, bringing both of his large hands up to cup your flushed face.

the tears that had pooled in your eyes now falling freely, which he had generously brushed away gently with the soft but calloused pads of his thumbs.

“you do?” you cried weakly, feeling your tightened chest begin to relax at his reassuring words.

“mmm,” he hummed lazily, wiping the heated skin of your cheeks lovingly, like he was your lover comforting you after something tragic happened.

“of course, my love. i could never stay truly angry with you,” he confessed, a small smile tugging at his lips as his eye remained looking into your tearful ones.

you felt your wobbly lips turn up into a shy smile, relaxing in the arms of the prince.

you sighed, feeling your limbs relax, thankfully no longer feeling like you were about to pass out from the blood that had rushed to your head in your haste of trying to come up with something to appease him.

gods be good, the last thing you wanted was for him to be upset and angry at you.

“thank you, prince aemond… you have no idea how happy that makes me to hear you say that,” you confessed, locking your eyes with his, though you felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you, seeing the twinkle of mischief in the prince’s eye.

“…of course, there is still the issue that you purposely avoided me,” he said, watching you with a narrowed eye, irritation bubbling underneath the surface of his heated skin, remembering the many times you had practically ran away from him.

it was almost adorable, thinking you could outrun a dragon.

the gods were surely mocking you now, as he had finally seized you in his fiery grasp, not intending on ever letting you go.

prince aemond watched you try and press your back further into the wall, wanting the castle wall to swallow you whole so that you could disappear from him.

it was like he could read your every thought, all you wanted to do was hide from him.

you did not answer him to confirm his accusation against you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right – even though you both knew he was.

a brief pause, you felt yourself stop breathing completely, holding your breath and waiting for his next words. you were terrified, who wouldn’t be?

“although.. perhaps i shall be merciful towards you, my sweet,” he breathed, bringing his hands down to your waist and gripping your sides tightly to the point it almost hurt.

aemond carefully watched your face to see if you would be brave enough to push him away, before he shook his head and chuckled lightly to himself, watching you bite down on your bottom lip nervously.

suddenly, the prince spoke out loud to himself rather than to you. “mmm… i wonder,” he murmured, suddenly playful as he let one of his hands travel further down, grabbing the skirt of your dress in his hand, bunching it together and tugging it up until both of your bare legs were exposed to him.

letting go of your waist with his other hand, he reached a large hand underneath your dress, placing the warm palm of his hand directly over your clothed cunt.

you let out a surprised gasp, eyes big and innocent and looking up to see his face that looked rightfully pleased, feeling your cunt soaking through your undergarments.

the prince cupped your cunt fully, pressing his palm up against your clit to apply pressure. “mm, prince aemond…”you mewled, trailing off as you felt the most pleasurable sensation start to swarm in your lower belly.

“oh,” you gasped wantonly, looking up at the prince in desperation.

what was happening to you?!

“indeed,” the prince smirked, leaning his head down to nuzzle his nose into your hair, sighing in content at being so close to you.

finally, he thought.

he inhaled your sweet scent for a moment, pressing a kiss against the side of your head, before moving his head back when he felt an uncontrollable yearning sensation spread throughout his body.

with his eye trained back on you, the hand that was cupping your cunt did not move, simply holding you in his possession and making you feel as if you were slowly losing your mind at the pressure he held against your sensitive clit.

nobody had ever touched you there, you were a maiden – a virgin, pure of heart and of mind and body.

“m-my prince..” you stuttered, your voice coming out small and uncertain.

suddenly, you felt prince aemond’s fingers swiftly move your undergarments to the side, pressing two fingers against your clit, rubbing it softly as if you’d break.

you didn’t doubt it.

you immediately cried out, your legs shaking and head buzzing at the new sensation. you had never felt such pleasure, it was beyond your imagination. you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t even remember reaching up with both hands and grasping at the prince’s shoulders.

when exactly had you done that?

feeling embarrassed, you let your fluttering eyes fall down to prince aemond’s clothed chest, though you could still feel his piercing eye watching your flushed face.

you didn’t know of course, but the one-eyed prince loved to watch you in secret.

it was one of his favorite hobbies, filling him with mirth as he would watch you fret over his sister, following after her to keep her company. although, you did not just serve her, you were now also a close friend to queen helaena.

you were young and sweet as honey, acting just as curious as his sister was with insects, though he knew you found genuine interest in different flowers and plants, just as well as books. you’d only been working at the castle for a few months, helping out in the kitchens.

it was only a few weeks ago that you’d began serving as a handmaiden to his sister, that was when he had truly taken notice to you.

you were so beautiful.

there were also many times where he’d deliberately put himself in your eye line, watching you with an amused smirk curling across his lips as he watched you stumble a multitude of times, once you eventually noticed him.

the prince would watch you for an uncomfortable amount of time, before you’d quickly turn around and scurry away from him, flustered and your belly always swarming with butterflies and something else.

his eye would always flash with hunger every time he saw you walking the halls of the red keep, wanting to claim you as his.

there was one time just a few days ago, when he’d gone to visit his sister unexpectedly, making your eyes widen at the sight of him entering his sister’s chambers unannounced, instantly shrinking away from him.

you had not uttered a single word the entire time he was there, simply humming in acknowledgment as the queen would ask your opinion on something, trying to make you join in on the conversation she was having with her brother.

occasionally, you would mutter something underneath your breath, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you tried to keep your focus on doing his sister’s hair, though by his close proximity, he could see your shaking hands.

not once did aemond take his eye off of you the entire time he had been there, making your skin crawl with nervousness.

gods, you were so perfect. so, so perfect. you would be his, he would make sure of it. he would have you all to himself, he had to – lest he go insane.

suddenly, the prince had slipped a single long finger inside your dripping cunt, pumping his finger in and out a few times experimentally, before shoving it back inside and curling it inside of you, feeling the silky walls of your heat clamp down around his finger.

you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, but you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped you. you looked back up at the prince pleadingly, your eyebrows furrowed and sweat was beginning to form at the back of your neck from the constant pleasure he was giving you.

aemond let out a soft hum, his eye filled with lust and possessiveness, before he eventually leaned down and captured your lips with his in a earth shattering kiss.

you moaned helplessly into his mouth, kissing him back with a burning desire that began to consume you both, feeling his warm tongue snake out and brush over your lower lip, begging for entrance.

your lips parted on their own accord, feeling the prince’s tongue slip into your needy mouth, tasting you.

aemond let out a deep groan of satisfaction, tasting how sweet you tasted, like different kinds of berries. he ran his tongue over the roof of your mouth, feeling your tongue slowly brush up shyly against his, as if asking for his permission.

of course, the prince denied you and bit down on your lower lip in punishment, causing you to let out a pained wail in displeasure.

you whined with need, pressing your hips down against his hand, begging for more, more, more.

you’d take whatever the prince wanted to give you, everything and anything – it was all yours, all you need to do was ask him and aemond would burn cities to ground to see you happy.

aemond quickly slipped in a second deft finger, pumping them both with vigor. the wet sounds your cunt made were loud and lewd, though you paid it little mind.

instantaneously, the prince dragged his lips down to your jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin there.

you dropped your head down, pressing your face into the warmth of the prince’s chest as your body trembled against his. then, you felt his thumb brush over your sensitive clit once more, beginning to rub the little nub in tight circles, causing you to squeal in endless pleasure.

“oh, ohhh – please, don’t stop prince aemond…!” you sobbed, feeling yourself begin to hyperventilate and something inside your belly was starting to tighten almost uncomfortably, making you squirm wildly against him.

aemond chuckled, kissing the top of your head and bringing up the hand that was holding your dress up to your hair, burying his fingers into the soft locks, caressing the back of your head lovingly.

“let go for me, little one. go on, give it to me.”

your small hands that were grasping the prince’s shoulders squeezed rather harshly, and if you were in your right state of mind you would’ve apologized profusely, but right now… you could not even forge a coherent thought.

“please, please – i need.. i need to–“ you choked, suddenly feeling the band that was tightening in your belly snap, an overwhelming feeling of immense pleasure swarming over you, suffocating you.

your breathing was erratic, your head spinning and your eyes squeezed shut as you felt your body be consumed by euphoria.

it was maddening.

“that’s it, my love,” aemond purred from above you, gently stroking the back of your head tenderly, continuing the assault of his skilled fingers.

aemond pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt slowly now, while leisurely rubbing lazy circles into your clit as he felt you come in the palm of his hand, your pleasurable cries like music to his ears.

aemond hummed, “you’re mine now, do you understand? mine – you belong to me.”

you let out pathetic whines, leaning your full weight against the prince uncaringly.

you were too wrapped up in the pleasure he was giving you to really notice.

a few seconds later, you began feeling overstimulated, a displeased sound escaping you, before you pulled your head back and leaned it against the hard stone wall tiredly.

the prince’s fingers continuously fingered you through your high, and the way his thumb pressed into your pulsing clit sent electric shocks throughout your body, causing you to tense up once again.

looking up, you caught the eye of the devilishly handsome prince that towered over you, making you feel small compared to him.

charmingly, he smiled.

of course, the feeling of the stone wall made you frown in annoyance, feeling uncomfortable without the prince’s soft touch in your hair, caressing you. you dropped one of your hands from the prince’s shoulder, grabbing hold of his wrist that was buried under the layers of your maid’s dress.

aemond immediately paused the movements of his hand, though he kept his fingers buried deep inside of you, raising an eyebrow in question.

you sucked in a deep breath, trying to gather as much courage as you possibly could, but bracing yourself for the worse.

finally, you spoke. “…i will not be your whore, prince aemond,” you said, trying to make your voice as even and as firm as possible. however, you could hear your voice shake slightly at the end, cursing yourself for your bashfulness.

a minute of silence passed, the prince’s face completely blank of any emotion, giving you nothing as your eyes glanced over his face back and forth, silently begging to know what he was thinking.

then, out of nowhere, he laughed loudly. the sound almost pleasing to your ears as it echoed off the walls, just as your moans from earlier had.

your eyes went wide in disbelief, wondering if he was laughing at you. you surely hoped not, you’d be terribly disappointed.

as the prince’s laughter slowly died down, he observed you for a moment silently, before his lips curled up into a wicked smile, “no, you will not be my whore,” he hissed crudely, his eye narrowing at you and the blood in his veins bubbling with fire as he looked down at you intensely.

you tried swallowing, but your mouth appeared dry, waiting for his words. without warning, the prince leaned down once again and crashed his lips against yours, claiming you and causing you to release a pleased sound.

the prince wanted you to be his, truly his.

you couldn’t help the fluttering feeling in your chest, as well as the nervous butterflies swarming in your belly at the thought that maybe… just maybe, the prince would give you what you both desired more than anything – each other.

the prince’s lips met yours in a needy, frenzied kiss, wanting to possess all of you.

you were his, he had to make you see that now.

aemond pulled away from you abruptly, watching as you chased after his lips, causing him to smirk. he shook his head, “no,” he repeated, his voice deep and his eye dark as he looked down at your pretty, blissed out face.

mine, he thought.

“you will not be my whore, my sweet. you will be my wife.”

fin

For You Always

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol)

Summary: you always knew Aemond had a soft spot for you, but you always just assumed it was him wanting to look out for his brother’s wife. Soon you find out that his devotion knows no bounds

Warnings: allusions of sexual assault

A/N: I was inspired by the dynamic between Alicent and Larys (and her and Criston). That dynamic is probably the most interesting to me to watch (plus when Olivia and Matthew are together in scenes it’s like a masterclass in acting. Might be my fav two actors on the show rn). I also just love the idea of Aemond being someone’s guard dog. I plan on writing things from this list. And plan on doing things with a black reader :). But I got inspired and it flowed very easily so I wanted to get it out. I am open to request as well! Please reblog, like, and follow if you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽

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In hindsight, confessing your sadness to Aemond after the incident was a bad idea. But in your defense, it wasn’t intentional. You found yourself crying, trying to make it back to your chambers before anyone spotted you in distress. And there he was.

Whispers was something you had grown used to since arriving in King’s Landing years ago. Whispers about your family back home, whispers about your life now… including whispers about your relationship with Aegon. Most of the time it would roll off your back. Mainly because the rumors themselves were never true. It’s easy to brush it off when there’s no validity.

It wasn’t until one day you overheard two lady’s maids speaking about your husband. Certain words stuck out. Dyana, crying, Aegon, paid off, and moon tea.

You felt sick, physically ill hearing them talk. You had always wondered what happened to Dyana; lamenting on how good she was with Elia, your daughter. When asked if he knew why she was not around anymore, all Aegon gave you was a shrug before changing the subject. But now you understand why. Deep down you knew Aegon was not a good man, but you naively hoped he had changed after the birth of your daughter. His behavior was always questionable, but this was a new low. You wish you could let this roll off your back like the rest. No use in chalking it up to a rumor; you know Aegon too well for that.

You couldn’t help the tears from falling as you turned away. The walk to your chamber felt like forever. Mind racing; you thought about poor Dyana and where she was now, who knew about this, and selfishly you thought about if people thought you knew all along. That you brushed it off because that is what is expected of a lady in your position. Smile and endure. Ignore and push through.

That people thought you were just as cruel as your husband.

It was the tears on your face that made Aemond stop in his tracks. You tried to wipe them away quickly after you spotted him but it was too late. He all but forces you to tell him why you’re in this state. It wasn’t becoming of your station to be crying in the arms of your lord husband’s brother. But there you were in your room, pouring your heart out.

Aemond had always been good to you. His generosity was not something you were expecting when you came into the family. Everyone had responded the way you predicted. Helena was sweet. Queen Alicent seemed indifferent; not exactly warm, but always there if you needed something. The sicker King Viserys grew, the less you saw him. Aegon was doting when he wanted you, awful when he didn’t. Aemond was the odd one out. Completely shocking you with the concern he shows. You had made up in your mind it stemmed from his hatred for Aegon.

That day, Aemond simply rubbed your back and told you he’d handle anything else that happened with Aegon. It must’ve been your frazzled state that led to you taking that comment as sweet rather than ominous.

Silly you.

It felt like the whispers and rumors only got worse after finding out about what happened to Dyana. By the time you had worked up the courage to confront Aegon, another indiscretion made it back to you.

It seems that your husband has an affinity for servants and ladies in waiting. If rumors are true, at least this one is consensual. The name of a servant you know helps Helaena continues to get bandied about.

You can’t help but feel embarrassment and rage flood through your body. He’s one the princes of the storied Targaryen family, a future king if things go the way certain people in the Red Keep want them to. And here he is, not only abusing his power but making a mockery of you in the process.

A part of you wonders if you should go to Alicent. You decide against it; you know how the game is played. No matter how much she may resent his behavior, he will always take precedent over you. Then you think about going to Helaena, but you hated the idea of troubling her with your mess. So there you were, at Aemond’s door with a rant on the tip of your tongue.

It was nice. Getting your feelings out to someone who shared your complicated feelings towards Aegon.

Aemond rarely responds or gives you advice. Just gave you an chance to let it all out, which is something you appreciated. You left his quarters feeling a bit lighter. As light as you could feel with the position you are in.

You spent the rest of the week trying to avoid talking to Aegon, and spend time with Elia and with Helaena.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Helaena’s cryptic language was something you had learned to just go with. Though, you did get an eerie feeling after she said it to you with a concerned look on her kind face.

You tried to push the hurt feelings away, and almost succeeded. Until your lady in waiting came to you one night with a nervous look on her face. Reluctantly, she told you news that she had heard.

You couldn’t hold it any longer the next time you saw Aegon. When the conversation started, you were surprised to hear him speak so openly about his cheating. You had just always expected him to act like the whole castle isn’t talking about it.

“What do you mean you told her she could be your second wife,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your voice low.

He winced and looks down at his feet.

“I don’t even remember saying it myself,” he says meekly. “But she surely remembers it. Won’t let me forget it.”

You scoff, and take good look at him. You think about how your mother’s vision for you, and your own blind ambition has landed you stuck with the biggest idiot ever.

“So let me get this straight,” you walked towards him. “You spend your days drowning yourself in your cups, and disrespecting half of the women in the Red Keep. And now you tell me you’re whispering sweet nothings into her ears so she keeps stroking your ego.. amongst other things. Some couple you two make. You’re stupid enough to say that, and she’s delusional enough to believe you.”

“My lov-“ you hold up hand to stop him.

“You will fix this,” your finger hits his chest. “I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”

You leave the room in a hurry, ignoring his tries to stop you. Where you are going at this hour? You have no idea, but you can’t be in the same rom as Aegon right now. But then you get an idea… the dragon pit.

Vhagar can’t fit in pit but whenever Aemond wants to ride her, he goes there.

You feel a bit silly, going to him to whine about how awful his brother is. But when you find him walking from the pit, the words and emotions just flowed out. Honestly for someone so outwardly cold, Aemond handles you so gently.

“To do that, and right in front of you is an insult.”

You nod in agreement because it is. It shows how much he doesn’t care. How much you carry your relationship with him.

“And the most frustrating part is that I just have to live with it,” you think about Elia, and the pressure there is to have another baby, a boy. “I have to not only face Aegon, but apparently the woman who he chooses lay with. I have to hear the whispers not about him being a disgrace. But about me being so frigid that of course he’d seek warmth from another.”

You run your hands down your face.

“What has my life become?”

Aemond doesn’t reply, just gives you an inquisitive look before nodding to himself. He walks you back to the room.

“Everything will be fine. Trust me,” his tone is so certain. You want to be ask how does he know, but you guess that’s what any person says when they’re comforting someone else.

You take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.

The day felt different. You don’t know why. You went through you typical schedule, most of which revolves around caring for Elia. Despite the off feeling you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the day was reflectively uneventful… until Queen Alicent comes to visit you.

She smiles as she holds Elia.

“How are you my dear,” her voice is soft and measured. The question is simple but it makes you uneasy. If things have made it back to you, they’ve surely made it back to her.

“I’m doing well your Grace,” you put on your best face. “Just a little tired.”

She hums in response.

“That’s good to hear,” she steps closer to you, lowering her voice. “I’m glad you were able to take care of any problems that may have arose.”

You blink at her. She’s clearly talking about Aegon and the servant. You did tell Aegon to fix it, but the quickness is surprising. Plus you assumed he’d come whining to you about it after he had ended things.

“I’m glad to know you can take care of things on your own.” she continues, and your confusion grows.

Didn’t know you had it in you? Take care of things? You truly do not understand what the Queen is saying. Before you can get into it, Ser Arryk knocks saying the King needs Alicent. After she leaves, you hand Elia to your lady in waiting.

You must go to Helaena.

You find her in her chambers, embroidery hoop in hand. The bright smile she greets you with drops when yo ask about her lady in waiting.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Her voice is somber, and you let out a deep sigh. Who is the flower? She clearly knows something but you wonder if even she can even figure it out herself. There’s no way you can go one of your girls, you’d be tipping your hand. And Aegon never seems to be around when you need him. Then it hits you.

I’ll handle it

Everything will be ok, trust me

It couldn’t be. You try to talk yourself out of the idea races into your mind as you walk to Aemond’s room. You squeeze your eyes shut as you knock on the door. The aloofness of his demeanor only makes you more anxious.

“I don’t even know how to ask this,” you give him a tight, nervous smile once he lets you in. “Or that you would even know the answer.”

He’s sitting in a chair, and tilts his head to the side. You pause for a moment. Collecting your thought; the last thing you want to do is accuse him of something.

“She’s gone,” he replied after silence passes through the room. He sounds bored of the careful dance you’re trying to play.

It’s vague. Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean Aegon did something right for once, but then again how would Aemond know that before you. You didn’t want her to lose her job. You just wanted the record set straight, and selfishly you didn’t want people questioning your marriage.

“What did you do,” you whisper, suddenly getting worried.

“I did what Aegon will never have the courage to do,” he stands up, and starts walking towards you. “I protected you.”

“Aemond what do-“

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” he interrupts you. “We took care of it.”

Your stomach sinks. We took care of it. There’s only one person.. no one thing Aemond could be talking about. Aemond on his own is intimating enough

“I didn’t want her dead,” you look at him with wide eyes.

He doesn’t seem phased by your panic. In fact he gives you a smile, or at least closest thing Aemond does to a smile.

“My future queen wanted something done, so I did it,” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

He thinks of you as his future queen, you’ve known that for a while. Everything starts and ends with you in his eyes. Any threat to you is a threat to him. You had grown to understand Aemond’s intensity, but this is a lot even for him. The look in his eye makes you know this won’t be a one time thing. That he’s going to go to these lengths whether you like it or not. Haelena’s words ring in your head.

A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation

Can't help falling in love

summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert

words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)

1.

Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.

His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.

It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.

And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.

Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you're standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.

"It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?" a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.

There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:

“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.

“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.

That’s until you both hear a loud cry:

“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.

She sprints decisively in your direction:

“It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”

And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.

”Y/N didn’t interrupt a thing,“ he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.

The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.

Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.

”Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,“ he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:

”Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.“

He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.

Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn't feel lonely anymore.

2.

It's been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn't left the bed once. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn't an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn't bare the thought of stepping out of the room.

His mother wouldn't leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn't help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.

That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He's only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.

He's startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human's silhouette — and then another few to realize that it's you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.

You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.

“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.

"They told me no one was allowed into your chambers," your hushed whisper burns his ear. "The silliest thing I've ever heard!" you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. "I knew I had to find a way to come see you."

You examine his face, frowning at the scar that's still healing.

"Does it hurt?"

He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won't be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.

Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit. 

"I will take his eye," you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might've heard it wrong.

"...Whose eye?"

"Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours," you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.

Aemond shakes his head:

"You shouldn't," his voice quiet but firm. "The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed."

"Well, maybe he is too old to think straight," you retort. "You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail," you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.

And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.

And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:

"Are you sure I can't take his eye?"

At that moment, he can't stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it. 

Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can't lose you.

He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke's eye isn't worth the trouble.

3.

By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince. 

His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.

You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.

Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid's persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.

And then he opens it — and it's you standing in front of him. 

Aemond barely has time to register what's going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can't see it, he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly".

"I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval," he sneers and you stick out your tongue.

"While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers," you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.

"I am friendly enough!"

“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.

Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you're clasping in your hands.

“You come bearing gifts?”

“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing".

It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you're talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand:

“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”

There's a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure:

“Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”

He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.

“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.

“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”

“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,'” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.

“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.

Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn't sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.

You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:

“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.

"The gem compliments your eye very well," you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.

"We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is."

"This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks," you chide him lightly. "And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?"

At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you're too concentrated on something, and Aemond can't help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface. 

He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glaring at him with something akin to fondness.

He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.

He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.

4.

Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn't seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone's counting). It's not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn't leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.

Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to the King's Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon's birthday, but Aemond didn't care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond's sympathy for you.

“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.

“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.

“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider Y/N part of the family.”

Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.

The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.

His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.

It’s not a drastic change, it's all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.

“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.

“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.

As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.

The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days. Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say:

“It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”

He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you. Aemond hesitates:

“I thought you quite liked it.”

“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.

Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:

“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add: “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”

And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.

A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?

So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.

Maybe he should have.

5.

By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.

Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can't hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can't think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.

So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.

“My dear, I think you must talk to Y/N,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.

Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:

“You don't seem surprised.”

“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe Y/N is the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.

Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them.

“You should tell her the truth.”

Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.

Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:

“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.

Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him:

“Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.”

The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.

You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.

“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.

“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”

Yet that’s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...

“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.

Aemond gives you some time before asking again:

“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.

“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.

Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.

“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”

“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.

“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”

“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.

“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.

“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:

“Me”.

You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute. 

“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.

“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.

In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You're looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.

“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face. Taken aback, you inquire:

“You pity me?”

He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.

 “You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can't get his head around what just happened.

“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.

Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.

“Y/N, I only meant to say that I —”

And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.

“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.

... 1.

He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.

Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.

And so he does.

“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,“ he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.

"Yes, I remember it pretty well," you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.

"The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack," there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. "Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you."

He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.

"Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories."

You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying. 

"Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her," the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.

"Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in," he can’t take his eye off you.

Your face expression melts into a stunned one.

"I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness," he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.

"When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine," you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.

"I think you actually enjoyed it", you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.

"I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you."

You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.

"The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar," he pauses, catching his breath. "You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you". 

You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.

“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.

“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:

“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.

You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm's length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you're in, you look so beautiful, it's mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence:

"Aemond, please don't give me false hope," your heartbeat is too loud, you don't hear your own voice. He does.

"I do not wish to marry you out of pity," Aemond takes the last step. "I want you to be my wife because I'm in love with you," he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. "I've been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually," his voice gets low. "For what feels like an eternity," Aemond murmurs.

"Why haven't you told me?" you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.

"I was afraid you didn't feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?" his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.

"Tell me that I am wrong," he whispers, begging.

You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.

Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.

You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.

Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.

"Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices," you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.

“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.

“When we were thirteen, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”

The air around you tense, and you are enchanted by each other.

“Did that help to prove you wrong?”

“I may need some convincing,” his breath fanning over your lips.

“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth.

His favorite memory will be this.

And every other moment with you that's to come.

author's note: I'm sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I'm a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don't want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, I hope this was bearable, thank you for reading!

💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 💞 my masterlist 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley's song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there's also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. P.S. I'm also on AO3 (lol, who isn't), in case you prefer to read fics there.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!