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piinkyypriincess · 4 months

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SWEET SUMMER ORANGE

Targaryen Dynasty x Fem!Teen!OC

"Green must find her way to orange, or all is lost. The dragons will dance and die, surrounded by fire and blood."

Multiple Main Pairings!

Main Focus ~ Fem!OC and Targaryen Dynasty (Yandere, Obsessive, Protective)

Warnings ~ Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Spying, Implications of Self Harm (Blood Oth), and Anger.

Spoilers ~ Ton!!

Masterpost ~ Here.

Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)

Word Count ~ 2.8k Words.

Chp Summary ~ The job of being a guard to a Princess with a large heart is taxing.

Chp 5 ~ The Job of a Royal Guard.

A vital part of a guard's duty is to keep their monarchs safe and alive.

That job should be considerably easy for someone who was formerly a part of the Unsullied army.

Black Scorpion is a trained soldier that is made to kill. His tall body was packed with lean muscles that rippled as he moved and he had scars from war that were grotesque.

They were all a testimony to his decade and a half as a slave-soldier. They were a testimony to the Queen of the Summer Islands when she appointed him as the Sword of the Sweet Lotus Vale Princess.

It was especially comical because the small girl also was appointed a shield.

Yellow Lizard was Black Scorpion's brother in arms during his time as a slave-soldier. They trained alongside each other and worked well without spoken words.

Yellow Lizard was only a few inches shorter than Black Scorpion, but he was more muscular in a burly sense. The man appeared so strong that others were sure he could fight off angry elephants.

The job of being guards should be even easier for two Unsullied, who are assigned to protecting a child half their size.

It was not like Vhagarhā Qo was an unpleasant Princess to guard. No, not at all was she rude or arrogant.

The pair actually looked forward to running around everyday with the young Princess.

She kept them entertained with her babbling off history and random facts.

Sometimes, she would force the pair into painting with her and the Princess Shaeneera of the Island of Women.

Other times they were commanded to drink tea with her and the Crown-Princess Xhandam of Tall Trees Town.

Occasionally, the young girl would join Princess Visenrhae of Pearl Palace to the forests in search of adventure, and the Unsullied would trail along with attentive eyes.

Once in a moon cycle, the King Xando would summon the three to watch performers in Ebonhead and be one with the people.

Everyday, the Queen Lynara and the young Princess read in the Queen's private solar. The two young men would be allowed inside and sat with their weapons laid around their feet.

More times than not, after spending time with the Islands Rulers and her Princess sisters, the child would doze off while looking into the sunset. The two men would stand guard dutifully and ensure her saftey.

She was usually perched in a hammock on her private beach watching the stars blend into the night sky. There was no need for private royal guards however, the private beaches were surrounded by bought Unsullied personnel that was freed in the Summer Islands.

When the hour grew dark, Yellow Lizard would wake the girl so she could bathe, then sleep.

They had a steady routine with just enough adventure to keep both men on their toes. The young girl had both wrapped around her pinky fingers and the only way they would let go is if they were dead.

However, the Princess had too large of a heart.

Seemingly a poetic reason for why she had two guards, Unsullied soldiers nonetheless, instead of one. That was besides the fact that she was the youngest.

Watching the young Princess converse with a venomous woman like Alicent Hightower was not a surprise. Vhagarhā had affection stored in her heart for even the ill hearted.

The Unsullied duo's job was more than protecting the child's physical form, it was their duty to protect her heart.

That was something that the two decided on their own after watching her cry for the first time.

They cut open their palms using the Vhagarhā’s Valyrian steel dagger, Sunstriker, and swore to protect her until the end of their days. If they were to fail at their duty, they would execute themselves.

Black Scorpion could shutter at the thought of harm befalling upon his Princess.

She had asked for the men to stay within where they could see her, but not be noticable. The pair obliged despite their want to protest, the Princess had a determined look on her face.

They just hadn't expected her to fall into the snake's den willingly.

Black Scorpion was perched on the opposite side of where the Weirwood tree stood, eyes sharply watching the Queen.

Yellow Lizard was behind the stairwell leading to the library, only the glare of the sun reflecting off his dark armor visible.

The woman seemed unnaturally mellow for a viper, it almost made the man want to rip the young Princess away from the older woman.

A viper had no business mingling with a delicate doe like Vhagarhā. Eventually, the woman would try and snap her fangs at the girl; the pair hated to think of the consequences for killing the Westerosi Queen.

A vital part of the guards duties is to keep their Princess safe and alive; they would not hesitate to have the blood of the Queen Alicent on their hands if it meant ensuring just that.

However, sometimes not interfering would benefit her more. Black Scorpion swallowed pride as his heart ached to bring the Princess back to the Maidenvault.

If he were to listen to his urges to escort the girl away from the Godswood, Alicent may grow upset with the pair of them.

That anger could be projected onto Vhagarhā, who deserved nothing less of appreciation.

They both stood in position due to their foresight of a potential reluctant ally. It was better to keep the Princess with the Queen of the realm rather than pull her away. Keeping their enemies close would be an advantage, especially when knowing how much animosity Alicent Hightower had for Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Heir to the Iron Throne.

War was bound to break out as the days grew cold and King Viserys health declined.

Vhagarhā possessed a charm that could sway evil spirits and ward away madness.

The Unsullied pair witnessed her do it with gentle hands and a kind smile more times than they could count. They'd felt that charm soothe their own wounds more times than they were willing to admit.

Having the Queen as an ally instead of an enemy could prove to be fruitful in the upcoming years.

Yellow Lizard had informants report that a war of succession was bound to break out. It didn't matter what the Prince Aegon or Princess Rhaenyra wanted, the realm of Westeros would tear itself apart regardless.

From what the royal guards had witnessed so far within the Red Keep, the House of the Dragon wasn't standing tall either.

The one-eyed Prince held onto Princess Shaeneera with a tight hold on her arm. The pair glanced at each other from their positions with amusement dancing in their eyes, but straight faced.

The Princess could quite literally walk on water. A dragon's fire was the least of their concerns when dealing with Princess Shaeneera, who looked almost bored.

Yellow Lizard observed from behind the staircase how the man's lone eye never seemed to stray far from her face, and how the man huffed at her nonchalant attitude.

After a shared word, Shaeneera tugged Prince Aemond along with her to converse with her sister and the Queen. Surprised by her strength, he almost tripped before falling into step with her.

A smirk was evident on the man's face, Black Scorpion noticed. He quickly schooled his expression into a blank canvas before they reached his Mother.

The Queen's demeanor seemed to shift from lighthearted to judgemental in the matter of seconds. She stepped from behind the young Princess and seemed to play guard for Vhagarhā, blocking her from the second oldest Princesses view.

The guards knew that Shaeneera wasn't the most strategic, not that the Princess had to be. Especially in non-political situations, the girl shouldn't have to think strategically.

The Rhoynish woman knew more about the sea’s, boat's, and crafting than planning.

None could blame her, but she was still ignorant with the Westerosi kind.

Every interaction was a political move, every word would be hung onto and could dictate the status of your likeness in the country.

As Black Scorpion suspected, the green Queen's venom began to spill out.

Alicents auburn eyebrows were pinched together in frustration and her hands tightly clasped behind her back as a means to steady herself.

Yellow Lizard could see Alicents lips move better In his position; Black Scorpion watched as Shaeneera's blonde eyebrows raised slowly.

The pair could feel the tension rising as Vhagarhā's unique eyes started to go glassy.

With one firm nod at each other and fire behind their eyes, the pair snuck around to the end of an open stone passage. They fell in step together with haste to collect the Sweet Lotus Vale Princess.

Shaeneera did not have a treacherous mouth like the second youngest Princess and the Queen of the Summer Island's. Yellow Lizard doubted the woman was planning on remarking anything slick.

Shaeneera was second only to Vhagarhā in sweet talking, but did not have the girlish charm to win over the Westerosi woman.

Before the Princess could even open her mouth, Yellow Lizard intercepted.

“Queen Alicent, My Princesses, Prince Aemond. Please excuse my interruption, but the Princesses are required to attend supper with their parents, The King and Queen of the Summer Isles,” The man bows as he speaks in respect and Black Scorpion keeps his gaze to the floor.

The pair was lucky that the sun dimmed rather quickly as they watched the Princess sit under the Weirwood for hours. The King and Queen would actually be eating within the Maidenvault and calling for their kids soon.

Alicent turns to look at Yellow Lizard as he straightens his posture from his bow. The woman's eyes were stuck on Black Scorpion's form as he straightened up as well.

Yellow Lizard resisted his facs twitching annoyed using his discipline training.

Black Scorpion was unsure of where he was taken from at the age of four.

He had long white-gold hair that was longer than the Prince Aemonds. It was a sandy beach white-blonde that Vhagarhā tended to, and he kept it slicked back in a ponytail. His eyes were ones of Earth, a tree bark color that swirled chocolate brown in the sun.

He was tall and large with muscles like a man from House Strong; not quite too large like Yellow Lizard, who looked huge like a man from House Umber.

Black Scorpion's face was set with stoney sharp Baratheon features, yet held a Targaryens grace and beauty. A true enigma like the rest of the House Qo members.

Alicents eyes widened with a flash of hot anger, then turned into slits of sharp emeralds intending to pierce skin.

“There she is,” Black Scorpion thought. The Viper Queen had awakened for the second time for the guards to witness. The first being when she first laid eyes upon Vhagarhā.

Alicent scoffed at Yellow Lizard, “Of course,” She started, anger softening into sorrow if only for a moment.

“We cannot have the Princess eating only cake all day,” She says, venom spitting from her lips as her eyes grow cold.

The woman's hands folded in front of her as she sighed harshly through her nose. The hazel light in her eye dimmed, leaving only green left in her wake and she gave her son a pointed look.

Vhagarhā caught onto the Queen's disposition and placed a hand on the woman's covered arm, “I will try and see you on the marrow if it pleases you,” The girl whispers, testing her luck as the vipers' fangs were already drawn.

It almost seems to work, the woman's eyes going soft but hands clutching each other tighter. “Yes, please-” She started almost eager.

A staring contest occurred between both Mother and Son. After a pregnant pause the woman continued with more authority holding herself together, “That would be wonderful, Princess,” She breathed out the words quickly.

Giving a firm nod of her head, the Queen leaves the two Princesses with their guards. She sent a pointed stare at her second oldest son to follow, and whispered orders to a nearby attendant.

Aemond bows respectfully at the Summer island's Princesses but then leans to whisper something short in Shaeneera's ear as she's mid-curtsey.

Sending a final squint of concealed intrigment at Vhagarhā, he's gone with a smirk plastered on his face and hands clasped behind his back.

The two islanders wait until the Mother and son Westerosi royals are out of sight before turning to each other.

Yellow Lizard does not move his gaze from Vhagarhā’s form, her eyes bright with hope. Black Scorpion stands with hands behind his back as well, his knuckles brushing against the twin Bastard Valyrian steel swords strapped to his back.

Shaeneera flits her eyes over the small one's body, checking for any abnormalities with her attire or skin.

“Why were you chatting with the viper Queen, little sister?” Shaeneera asks in Summer Tongue, the clicking sound of their first language harsh to foreign ears only.

Vhagarhā’s eyes widened like a doe, hands playing with the gold necklace hung around her neck, “She looked lonely, sister,” She replied innocently, Summer tongue rolling out of her mouth like honey.

Only the child had the capabilities of making a harsh sounding language seem magical like a Merlings song.

Shaeneera raises a blonde brow, a small frown stretching on her face in concern, "We are not home, small one. We dance with the snake's here."

Black Scorpion hums in agreement, keeping his eyes up as he stays aware of his surroundings.

“Even I have trouble navigating myself here. You are especially vulnerable,” She admits with a defeated look. Shaeneera knew she wouldn't be able to contain her sister's kindness, and she didn't want to.

However, she wished the girl chose sparingly with who she socialized with.

Yellow Lizard nods his heart firmly. He bends down to look into the eyes of the girl as she bows, her head in reluctant submission to her older sister.

“What you did could have gone horribly wrong, My Princess,” Yellow Lizard agrees, probably out of turn in Westerosi standards.

It is a guard's duty to protect his monarch, and make sure they do not endanger themselves.

Vhagarhā huffs a whine under her breath, staring down at her gaudy rings with sadness in her eyes. Yellow Lizard sighs at the girl's sad frustration.

“However,” Vhagarhā instantly perks up, lilac and coral eyes peeking through her thick lashes. The man could laugh at the girl's constant want for praise.

“It is always wise to have allies everywhere, even if you do not like them,” The words make Vhagarhā smile solemnly with a slow nod.

Taking a step back to look at both her sister and guards properly, Vhagarhā sighs deeply with saddened eyes, “I still think she has a heart somewhere in there,” She insists quietly.

“Vhagarhā-” Shaeneera's protest is cut off quickly.

Vhagarhā goes to lace her fingers with her older sister's own, small hands swinging their interlaced fingers with desperation.

“Please sister! I am never wrong about these things – I feel it in my heart,” She claims, looking between her sister and Black Scorpion who's only sign of emotion is the hard blank stare he gives when he is in disagreement.

Shaeneera presses her lips in a thin line as the long haired Unsullied looks away, not wanting to see the child's sappy eyes.

Turning to look at Yellow Lizard, Vhagarhā states, “There is a dragon still somewhere inside of her. She just has to find it. Unleash it.”

Frustrated, Vhagarhā looks up at the sun that has begun to set. Turning her head to the Weirwood tree, she marvels as shades of red and orange start to reflect off the ancient tree's leaves.

Oh, what bliss a child could find in the most delicate of situations.

Black Scorpion admired the girl's colorful outlook on life, just her mere expression painting the picture of hope.

Shaeneera averts her gaze to the Weirwood as well, noticing her sister's eyes had been caught somewhere else. With a small smile sent down at the girl unknowingly, she sighs as her eyes flutter closed for a moment.

As her short attention span sister stares at the tree with saddened hope, the Rhoynish woman sends a pleading look to Black Scorpion. The only expression of opinion she receives is a nod of his head, softened chocolate irises placed on Vhagarhā.

“Okay…” Princess Shaeneera sounds as if she is convincing herself, rather than affirming her sister's claims.

“You have always been able to find the best in others," Even when they don't deserve it.

The unspoken words echo in the guards ears hauntingly.

They will think of all the negative aspects and outcomes so the youngest Princess won't have to.

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ladystarksneedle · 9 months

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Come as you are

Aegon's POV

Pairing: Aegon x Helaena

Word count : 2774

Summary: After a night of indulgence, Aegon contemplates his life and his relationship with Helaena, on his way back home.

He can feel something wet on his face, the sensation growing by the instant, if he chooses to focus. Normally he’d be happy to wake up in such a way but his eyes feel like lead and his head is pounding, like the drums signaling the start of a tourney. Rough starts to his day have become the norm. He considers this almost a natural progression in his life, similar to his transition from boy to man, with the days becoming increasingly unbearable and his nightly pursuits each unimaginable, to his younger self. There is little that surprises him now. Yet as he manages to wake when the wetness begins consuming his eyes, it’s still the last thing he expects to see. A kitten licks away at him, feasting at what, he doesn’t know. It’s almost hilarious to be woken up by such a creature out of all the possibilities his drunk head had conjured . Quite frankly he’d imagined a different ginger waking him up instead. The little beast gazes up at him with it's big eyes not shying away as he struggles to sit. He’s strangely reminded of Jaehaera, who stares at him in a similar fashion, her big eyes silently commanding him. She’d been pestering him for one of these for a moon now, which was perhaps too bold a word to use for what she actually had actually been upto, sneaking up on him and pulling his doublet vigorously only to say one word before scurrying off.

“Kepa, kitten”

This was almost every instance she happened to see him. Thankfully it wasn’t usually at this hour, when he was at his lowest. He still wanted to maintain the veneer of being presentable to his children. As much of a wastrel he considered himself to be, his children were the best of him and his seemingly good impression in their eyes was often a reprieve from his constant self loathing.

He ends up pocketing the kitten in his cloak as a gift for her, before staggering forwards to survey his surroundings. This is not the first time he’s woken up in a strange place, after a night of indulgence. Usually its in a brothel or at the back of the fighting pits or in a room in one of the preferred taverns he frequents to a certain redhead much like the kitten he’s now carrying. Sometimes he’s even woken up in the dragonpit of all places, curled up against Sunfyre, his warmth soothing him through many a cold winter night. Those mornings were much more satisfying than whatever pleasure he’d sought out the night before. Sunfyre always had a way of lightening his spirits.

Today he’s woken up in what looks like a small enclave at the back of a stable. Swaying from side to side he manages to gain a semblance of his composure as he makes his way out into the city.

King’s landing is a bustling capital, buzzing with people of all kinds. Vendors and hawkers go about their work, a contingent of gold cloaks patrol the markets and as he moves forwards he can even see a group of septas rushing towards the Great Sept on Visenya’s Hill. There are no thoughts running through his head as he makes his way, trying to go unnoticed through the crowds, however the feeling of increasing dread of having to return back to the Red keep soon creeps up on him. He knows someone might stumble upon him sooner or later and escort him back, as was their duty so he doesn’t really need to rush. It isn’t lost on him though, that it’s much later in the day than when he usually returns. Perhaps his mother, sick with worry, would send Aemond after him, he thinks with a chuckle imagining his uptight and dutiful brother wandering the Street of silk in search of him. He knows the twat would look there first.

His thoughts somehow return back to his mother though and he finds himself wishing otherwise. Whenever he’d return each morn, he’d be greeted by her frowning face, her disappointment clearly evident even through the haze in his eyes. Sometimes she’d let him off with just a look, if she was particularly busy that day but most days he’d end up getting a earful. It was one of the many times he’d regret being born. Her shouting only worsened the pounding in his head though the words they exchanged, as much as he would like to hide it, hurt him more. She’d leave him be with one of the manservants afterwards, tasked with cleaning him up and making him presentable for the rest of the day. Sometimes he wondered why there was all this fuss around him. He’d given up following most pursuits of men his age. While his brother meticulously began his training every day at dawn, he’d long lost his fancy of swordsmanship, neither had he any interest in whiling his time away in the library, in pursuit of an additional maester’s chain. Most of his day was actually spent at court, fawned over by all the green lords who’d come to make their mark in the capital, most likely invited at the behest of his grandsire. Keeping up appearances was everything in king’s landing ,as was repeatedly drilled into all of their heads, by him and it was the one thing utterly he failed at. Although if he was being honest, he could care less for what the others thought of him. He was a prince, the king’s firstborn son, not that it mattered to his father and the rider of Sunfyre, the most majestic dragon in the world. Why then should the opinions of petty lords amount to anything, when he ought to be lauded for just being himself. A Targaryen doesn’t seek the approval of sheep, something his grandsire would never be able to understand.

His sister was much more compliant and had a better relationship with him, though she too didn’t seek out court life as much as was required of her. She stuck to herself, the children and entertained a few ladies only when it was deemed necessary after yet another lecture by mother. His relationship with her was cordial most times though strained would be the best word to describe it. They had been too young when they were married off, with both of them not wanting it. He had nothing against her but they had nothing in common and marrying a woman for fulfilling yet another duty imposed on him, irked him to no end. After Aemond’s eye was taken though, both of them had very little choice in the matter and had to comply without objection. He considered their union to be like most political marriages born out of convenience, yet he knew at times he’d hurt her much more than he was ever inconvenienced in their relationship. His neglect of her and the children in turn, when he thought about it, turned into a perpetual sting at the back of his head, a constant reminder of all his failures. His feelings of uselessness exacerbated sequentially on becoming a husband and then a father. He never knew what to do with himself, how to pull himself out of his self inflicted misery and how to try and be there for the family he created. Every time he entertained the idea of trying, a small part of his brain nagged him about his worthlessness and how if he tried and failed this time, it would be the worst thing he ever did and nothing could make him regain how he valued himself ever again. So he sought to drowning out his troubles with whatever pleasure he could procure, finding novelty in the misery of flea bottom through the nights. Yet thoughts of his wife still lingered, despite the numbness which seeped through his bones. He would be reminded of her in flashes, of some random fact about a bug she’d spoken of at dinner or the way she wrung her hands when she was nervous or the tilting of her head when she got lost within herself. He even thought of her absent smiles when she thought no one was noticing. Helaena tormented him eternally, making him want to pull his hair out. All the wine in this shithole couldn’t seem to get her out of his system. He’d soon begun finding himself gazing unintentionally at her at dinner, trying to please her whenever he encountered her throughout the day or to just not make her hate him at times, just to quieten this abhorrent sense of longing in his head. He didn’t know how to express himself. None of them had ever been taught to, in their family. Love was a word unknown to all of them and had been rare growing up. It was strangely even rarer to him now that he was married. He could hardly understand it’s meaning. He’d felt desire ever since he turned thirteen, looking at a young maiden in passing or yet another serving girl or whore vying for his affections. He’d felt longing for his mother’s love, her attention and pride. He'd felt responsible for Helaena and the children and affection at times towards her in their marriage, but love was ever a stranger to him. What he felt for Helaena wasn’t love he thought, or it couldn’t be. His mother had emphasized the importance of duty in their childhood, of looking after your own. After Aemond's eye had been cut out, it was the only duty he’d decided to stick by. He had vowed to protect his siblings and his family and he would abide by his duty for her. He’d thereafter resorted to showing her his intentions through other means, by gifting her small trinkets. A bug toy, a charm bracelet, a set of matching rings for their dragons were some of the things he'd gotten her over the years of their marriage, usually after he’d seen her cast a sad glance at him that day and when he felt he’d pushed it too far. Somehow the sadness in her eyes stung worse than it did in mother’s and that was terrifying to him.

He was too drunk to make to back in one piece this morn, giving him hardly enough time to find something for her. The kitten meowing in his pocket would have to do, for both mother and daughter.

Stumbling through the gates of the outer courtyard of the Keep, he was greeted by his sworn protector wearing a scowl on his face. Ser Erryk could be such an upstanding cunt when he had to, making him feel like clapping himself on the back for managing to dodge him yet again. He was hurled up to his quarters shortly, all the while trying to keep the kitten quiet to save himself the embarrassment of being further questioned.

Helaena was sitting on the settee placed in the middle of the room, as usual, busy with her embroidery as he was hauled in. She’d gotten so accustomed to his shenanigans she would hardly looked up whenever he was dragged in. Today was different. Her eyes crinkled with a myriad of emotions as she gazed upon him, fright, distaste and worry which she was quick to mask as she dismissed his guard with a kind word.

They were alone in their chambers for only a short while before she led him to the settee and called upon her maids to have his bath prepared. As she went about getting his things ready he glanced upon her threadwork, which looked like a pair of flies dancing about.

She was quick to come to him and help him though, along with one of his servants.

She smelt good he thought as they lowered him together into the tub. Was he really that drowsy now, that he required her help he thought sighing at the warmth encasing him. Her scent of lavender was heavy on his senses as she spoke something to the man before dismissing him. She smelled sweet and woodsy, stronger than her usual scent of fresh garden plucked lilies, not that he minded. His thoughts drifted back to the kitten suddenly and he wondered if it had somehow escaped his cloak. He was too tired to look for it now and frankly couldn’t be bothered as the exhaustion of the night began overwhelming him.

It occurred to him that this was the first time she was helping him bathe as he relaxed further and he gulped unconsciously dreading what she was about to say next as she began soaping him.

“Why do you do this to yourself Aegon?”

“It is in my nature” he responded turning his face away as she began running some of the bath oils through his hair.

“Mother has decided to finally give up on you” she said with a sigh. “She came again this morning, passed by on her way to the small council meeting, without a word asking about your whereabouts.”

“Tis about time,” he grunted. “ She should redirect her efforts towards her more dutiful son and I’m easy enough to forget”

“Not to me” she whispered kneading his scalp as she leaned over him.

“Has something happened?” he asked, turning to gaze into her eyes, trying to ignore the strange feeling bubbling in his stomach.

She shook her head, choosing to ignore him for the rest of his bath as she worked away at lathering him clean. As the water turned soapy, he almost felt as if he was dreaming, drowsy from the after effects of all the wine. He couldn’t fathom a scenario where his wife would let her feelings be known to him so openly and that to something akin to almost brazen confessions of her affection. It wasn’t in her nature and neither in his.

“You remind me of those stick insects you know, the wobbly ones. They’re called one night stick insects,” she said as she dried her hands and got up to hold a towel infront of him.

“Why?” he asked stepping out carefully.

“They’re nocturnal, quite like you, scurrying about during odd hours. They also never fertilize the same egg twice.”

He winced as she finished drying him clean.

“Perhaps you should give me the same treatment as the Black widow then. It seems as if I’ve served my purpose and it would be quite a fitting way to go”

She smiled at that, which made his heart ache. He still wished to blame it on the wine but he knew what he’d said had elicited a genuine response from her.

She moved towards him, green doublet in hand as she began helping him dress, still smiling to herself. As she finished clipping the gold chains around his neck she pulled him closer, “I think we’re a pair of Mayflies you and I. Not spiders or stick bugs. Do you want to know why?”

He had been leaning almost imperceptibly towards her as she'd worked, bending down to brush his nose against hers urging her to continue.

“They’re parents just like us, staying together for their larvae. They fight and ignore each other for years but still come together for them when it matters and do you know how they thank them? By eating them when it’s time to leave their nest.”

He grunted hiding his smile as she struggled to hide her own laughter in his collar.

“So instead of one of us, both shall face the same fate. How fitting.”

“To come together and leave together, as one” she whispered.

“A cruel fate”

“Cruel or not it is most likely ours. We are what we make of our circumstance.”

“Were you always this wise, my observant mayfly ”he asked tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

“You’re too drunk to notice”

“My sincere apologies”

“I know you don’t mean it.”

“Probably not but you’re too beautiful to resist at the moment” he replied leaning in to capture her lips. She tasted sweet and of lemon cakes she’d probably had in the morning and though he wasn’t fond of the tarty sugary sweet he cherished her closeness and the comfort of her presence. He probably smelt of wine and tasted just as bitter but was satisfied when it didn’t stop her from reciprocating his advances. Perhaps she’d gotten used to him after all, his little mayfly he thought as they were painfully interrupted by the feeling of something wet on his leg.

“Is that a kitten” she squealed.

“For Jaehaera” ,he replied sheepishly running a hand through his hair. “This little runt woke me up today by licking all over my face”

“A fine surprise husband, perhaps I shall have to try that trick to rouse you too” she replied back cheekily.

He could only stare after her stunned, too shocked to formulate a reply at her sudden cheek, as she scooped up the little beast and sprinted through the doors to find their daughter. He brought a hand to his lips lingering on the warmth he felt inside as he stood alone in their chambers. Perhaps he should start taking an interest in these strange legged creatures after all.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x helaena #helaegon #zae's fics #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #aegon ii imagine #headcanon #aegon fics

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edrawingarts · 6 months

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Imagine if all the green kids and red kids got together and now their parents are freaking out because that was never supposed to happen (modern au).

Aegon III x Jaehaera

Viserys II x Jaehaerys

Visenya x Maelor

…like guys, come on.

#hotd #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd au #aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #viserys ii #prince jaehaerys targaryen #visenya targaryen #maelor targaryen #rhaenyra targeryan #daemon targeryan #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd modern au

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notyour-valentine · 8 months

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A Fair Exchange XLIX ~ Aemond Targaryen x Reader/OC (Angst)

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Summary: A return home for all of them

Warning: bullying, blood, mention and threat of violence and death, mutilation, mention of torture and death, childbirth, injury, misogyny. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

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Previously

Part XLIX

He let his hands trace the outline of the scales. They were green, and greyish and black, harder and coarser than those he had felt on Tyseleys.

His had been hard as steel, and so were Vhagars, but there were marks, dents and scars. Occasionally a scale was even missing, revealing the black flesh underneath.

Her body told the story of her life, of her battles and victories.

She was an old dragon now but even in her youth she had never been considered a beauty compared to bright Quicksilver, shining SIlverwing, gleaming Dreamfyre or even golden Sunfyre.

Still, to Aemond Targaryen there was no greater beauty amongst the Targaryen dragons. Vhagar’s age and battles ennobled her to him, only adding to the legend and fierceness of her. Besides, Quicksilver’s beauty had not saved him when he faced Vhagar.

He fell prey to her like so many others, men and beast combined.

By now she was the mightiest, the strongest, the only dragon yet alive from the conquest. Old age had claimed Balerion, arrogance Meraxes. But Vhagar still reigned as undisputed Queen of the skies, as fierce as she was beautiful, as battle-worn as she was deadly.

Aegon’s throne may have been forged by Balerion’s flame, but it was Vhagar’s that had formed his kingdom. Aegon might have been good at forging alliances, at politics and quill pushing. Rhaenys may have been the charmer, the one the singers wrote their ballads about and the one whose likeness artists wished to capture, but it was Visenya who had been the warrior made mortal, Visenya, who had devised the plans of battle, Visenya who had given the commands.

Visenya and Vhagar.

She was his now, and he was hers. Even if he could not slip into her head like she had done with Tyseleys, he only ever felt complete, truly complete with her close.

“That’s a good girl.”, he soothed as he ran his hands back over the scales, feeling the warmth that radiated from below, a constant reminder that fire, and with it death, was ever close.

But to Targaryens fire was as much life as it was death. Without it, its warmth and the power that came with it, he had felt naked and vulnerable.

Now he felt complete again. Now he felt a man again.

There was no doubt when he was close with Vhagar, just the certainty of his power. She would not fail him, just as much as he would not fail her.

Together there was nothing in the world that frightened him.

As he revelled in her warmth, he thought of Dorne, of their treason and treachery, and the price of retaliation that demanded. Vhagar had done to Dorne before, and filled their hearts with terror.

Mayhaps it was time to do so again, though he would not blindly charge at their city towers with their catapults and archers, no, he would think of something to strike a yet harsher blow, for all they did and all they could have done to him, to Jaehaera, to her.

It would not go unanswered.

As if feeling his determination, Vhagar snarled, a low rumble erupting from the depth of her just where the flames sprang forth.

“My Prince.”, someone called, their voice shaking in light of the dragon and it’s visible agitation.

He turned and saw the white cloak of his brother’s Kingsguard. Not Cole though.

The man had been his mentor ever since he had been a boy, instructing him in the arts of war and strategy, sharing wisdoms of the world. On how to lead men, how to be dutiful and chivalrous.

But by now Aemond could no longer claim any of these virtues.

Had he not failed as a brother and son by letting her go? The opposite would have been impossible, an ask too much for his conscience though there was no right, no law that allowed him such betrayal.

If she had accepted him, on the other hand, it would have been his official and most paramount duty. Seven hells, it would have even been in his right to pick up a sword and fight, cutting down the men of his own brother and king to do so.

But she had not accepted him, had not allowed them both to escape the sinful stain of what they had done, what Aemond yet remembered as vividly as any memory allowed to him.

There was no text of law or faith that would have guided him in a response to her stubborn denial.

If such a sin as theirs partook, marriage was the only way to right it, the only way for men to write it.

It was as if no woman in history had ever opted to forgo such a preservation or rather restoration of their own honour.

In a simpler, easier time, with a simpler, easier family, he would have flown to Dragonstone and discreetly given an explanation to Rhaenyra and Daemon as her parent and guardian and, in hand with an apology asked for her hand that he would no doubt and gladly be allowed tor receive.

Only it was neither simple nor easy, and Aemond had no desire to return to the isle of his ancestors, just as he doubted Rhaenyra and Daemon would receive his intentions well. Either way, she had refused him. What did Rhaenyra’s word matter after that?

He had thought of asking Cole for advice, but what were the options? Duty demanded he married her, and yet she had shut the very notion down.

Besides, there was something in the knight’s gaze since his return that made him hesitate. It wasn’t distrust, or suspicion, not quite, but there was doubt in his dark eyes, and Aemond couldn’t fully refute the notion that Cole did not fully believe the tale of her escape.

But as long as he did not ask Aemond, he did not have to answer, so he did not have to lie.

With a few final words, he left Vhagar and began his ascent from the bay back to the Red Keep passing the very spot he had sent her toppling down below, the balcony from which his father had once watched her utter her very first “Dracarys”.

How he had resented her that day, and how he had feared for her on the most recent occasion, with equal, all consuming manner.

Quickly, Aemond tore his gaze away from the distant speck of Dragonstone. It would not do to dwell on it, especially now when the Small Council was to meet.

He had never been a full member of the council before, and he wasn’t sure in what capacity he would sit now.

His mother sat there, solemn and grim. The last few weeks had aged her, deepening the lines of concern between her brows, hollowing her cheeks and darkening the circles under her eyes.

She did not want war, not with Rhaenyra and not with the Sisters.

His Grandsire, wearing the badge of the Hand of the King looked unfazed in comparison. As if he had been preparing for this his whole life.

There were a few familiar faces, filling the seats of Master of Law, Ships and War, Cole as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Lannister as Master of Coin.

Only one person was missing, one person that had to be here, if not through duty by sheer, and most bare necessity.

Aegon.

But his brother’s absence was the only sign of him. Aemond did not know if he even had a right to be surprised at that.

They did not have the same carved table Dragonstone had, and so instead a painted map was laid out on a round table beside the main one, held in place by carved figures.

There was the stag of Baratheon, the eagle of Arryn, the lion of Lannister. He saw the direwolf of Stark, the Tully Trout, Tyrell rose and Redwyne grapes, just to name a few.

And then there were dragons, not the dragons to symbolise the soldiers, archers and ships of House Targaryen, but figures painted in the colours of their scales.

Green Vhagar, blue Dreamfyre and golden Sunfyre were placed on King’s Landing, while the Isles of Dragonstone and Driftmark were completely covered in figures, pale grey, pale green, the scarlet of the Red Queen, the more rusty red of the Blood Wyrm, the gold of Syrax, and the unmistakable bronze and copper of Tyseleys.

They had more dragons, but at least they used them.

Aemond knew of the patrols they did, both from the report he had received here and her dreams, but here in the city, there was not much to do but wait. Dragonstone was the gate to the world, and their best defences. While to some standing by and doing nothing may appeal, it made his skin itch.

He would not have someone else fight his war for him, would not sit idle in his chamber while others defended their homeland. Even if the others were his sister and her allies.

His gaze drifted to his grandsire. Whatever they had reached in the negotiations was kept from him, unimportant, they claimed, now that the deck had been reshuffled.

So all of Dorne had come to nothing.

“Shall we begin?”, Otto finally said, and they all took their seat. Only Aegon’s remained empty.

He glared at it as if he wished to summon his brother by will alone, only he knew he would not show. Most likely he was drunk on wine or women, or both, proving himself once more unworthy of the kinship.

“Have there been any news from Rhaenyra?”, his mother asked. She had taken the news of his arrival, or rather Jaehaera’s return, with ecstatic relief, but he watched that joy freeze over when she was told that Rhaenyra’s daughter had escaped capture.

Since then she had been pacing and fidgeting, her fingers plucked red yet unable to soothe her nerves.

“None.”, the Grandmaester reported.

They had expected dragonfire, threats, anything - but Tyseleys had taken her home and since then there had been silence, nothing but deafening silence.

“Are there any reports of a shift in Dragonstone’s strategy now that they have returned?”

The Master of ships shook his head.

“From what we know Arrax has taken to the skies in patrols. But beyond that there is nothing that seems to change.”

That meant, Aemond knew by now, that the Velaryon fleet with Caraxes and Meleys mostly were keeping the Essosi at bay.

“However, there are troubling news from the South, and the West.”

The parchment scrawl was pulled from the sleeve of the old man, detailing an increase of Lyseni ships in the Stepstones, with House Baratheon and the Stormlands asking for royal reinforcements.

“We cannot give him reinforcements if we do not have a fleet.”, his mother said.

The Royal Fleet had been at Dragonstone and was now under the complete command fo the Seasnake, flying Rhaenyra’s banner.

“He is not asking for ships, your Grace.”, the Maester said, glancing at Aemond.

In that moment, the doors were flung open, and Aegon entered.

The crown looked strange on his silver head, almost comical, like a tool from a play.

He was not surprised to see his brother wearing neither armour nor riding leathers, but he did wear a belt, and the conqueror’s sword.

“Apologies.”, he muttered, as he rushed to his place.

Aemond had been the last to rise for him, and was the last to sit.

“What did I miss?”, his brother asked, shifting uncomfortably in the chair that was too big for him.

“Your Grace, we have only just started. Lord Baratheon’s men have noticed an increase of naval presence in the Stepstones and has asked for assistance.”

“How?”, he asked sharply, his fingers tapping against the carved arms.

“Dragons.”

Aegon’s eyes drifted to Aemond, then back.

“With all due respect to Lord Baratheon, he is not the priority.”, Lord Lannister said sharply. “The Lannister fleet is sailing southward to aid the Redwyne fleet against the Dornish ships, but if someone is to get support by dragon, it has to be them. The Stepstones are not too far from Dragonstone, and of personal relevance to Daemon.”

“If we leave the defence of the Stormlands to Rhaenyra what stops Lord Baratheon from turning his cloak to hers?”, Alicent asked.

Nothing, Aemond thought. And that would leave King’s Landing surrounded by Blacks, the Vale from the North, the Stormlands from the South, and Dragonstone from the waterway.

“With Prince Aemond’s return-”, Tyland began.

“No!”, his Grandsire said sharply. “Aemond and Vhagar are to hold King’s Landing at all cost. He will not leave. You already have Daeron.”

His tone softened slightly.

“Of course no one expects the King to risk his life on dragonback.”

That gained supportive mumbles.

“That leaves-”

“Vhagar.”, Aegon said. “Vhagar.”

Aemond glared at his brother. Now I am to fight your war for you, huh?, he thought, though it was nothing he had not expected.

“If Prince Aemond were to go west to join Prince Daeron,”, the Grandmaester began, “and Dreamfyre were to turn south towards-”

Aegon’s fist cracked down on the wood.

“How many times do I have to tell you that Helaena will not fight?”, he snapped, his cheeks and neck turning red. “She is with child, and even if she wasn’t, I’m not sending her into war! Think of something else!”

For a few seconds there was silence, suffocating, startling silence.

Aemond couldn’t help but feel impressed. He had not thought his brother man enough to defend their sister so, and for once he agreed with him.

“So Vhagar then-”, Lannister tried once more.

Aemond glared at him. He was desperate for a dragon it seemed, desperate for support from the air. He could not blame him, but then he ought at least be man enough and ask him instead of directing his inquiries at Aegon like a beggar during court.

“My King, King’s Landing is protected by the Blacks by way of Dragonstone and Princess Rhaenys has affection for the Stormlands, she will not let Storm’s End burn.”

“Without Vhagar they could take the capitol in a heartbeat.”, Otto said.

“A risk that could have been preventable with a certain hostage.”, Cole mumbled under his breath. Aemond glared at him.

He understood the peril of their situation, had understood it before he had made his choice. This would not make him regret it, and Cole’s handling of her had been proof enough without his use of phrases like hostage.

The very same Princess who had ensured that Vhagar had her rider back, that Aegon and Helaena had their daughter back, Aemond thought, but he did not say that. He said something else.

“Rhaenyra has enough dragons.”, he said. “Mother is right. If we cannot defend the realm, why should the realm look to us for governance?”

He glanced at Aegon. It was his realm, not Aemond’s, and with every inaction it was slipping away further.

“Rhaenyra has more dragons, she has the Velaryon fleet, the Royal fleet, the Arryn ships and whatever they have in White Harbour.”, the Master of ships surmised.

Aemond glanced at the map. To him it was obvious - the younger ones, Jace, Baela and Luke would patrol the eastern skies, Caraxes and Meleys with them, and the ships to protect the water. Then Vhagar, Tessarion and Tyseleys in the east with the Lannister and Reach fleet against the Dornish.

Only Rhaenyra would not agree to that. He could have gotten her to agree though, of that he was strangely certain.

“We have to unite with Rhaenyra.”, Alicent said, her voice trembling. “There is no way to ensure our safety or that of the realm without it.”

Aemond, despite his resentment of his sister, could not agree more.

“Why did the negotiations fail in the first place?”, he wanted to know.

“The crown is mine by right.”; Aegon said. “Not Rhaenyra’s, not mine and Rhaenyra’s. Just mine by any law.”

“Except the law of strength.”, Tyland Lannister whispered beside Aemond, too soft for Aegon to hear.

“Besides, once the war is done, the scales may be more balanced.”

Aemond felt his brow shoot up, as Aegon looked to Cole for confirmation.

“You expect them to win the war?”, he said, “But not at no cost?”

His brother’s face told him all he needed to know.

“So either they let the Stormlands, Westerlands and Reach bleed out in your absence, or they become their defenders. Either way, why would they side with you after the war is done?”

“Because it is my right!”, Aegon said. “And I command it to be so.”

Aemond looked to his mother and grandsire, both looking equally uncomfortable.

And that was the moment he knew that his grandsire may no longer be the most influential man when it came to the King. When his gaze turned to Cole, his brown eyes were waiting.

The soft fabric and the clean scent of her dress made her uneasy. After so much time spent in rags and dirt, this comfort unsettled her, just as much as the softness of her bed did, and the crackling sounds of the fire.

She was not used to home just yet, even though she would not exchange it for the world.

Now she spent her time in the nursery, or at least with her youngest brothers. There was always noise there, and demands for attention. It kept her hands and mind busy, too busy to wander.

Viserys, her sweet darling boy, had taken his time to warm up to her, much to her surprise. While the others crowded around her and Luke, with especially Joffrey acting the knight and taking her hand to help her walk and sit and stand, he had kept his distance, his little brows furrowed.

It had hurt her at first, especially when he had reacted with nothing but apathy when she bid him and Aegon goodnight with kisses.

Come morning though, she had been torn from her restless sleep by little feet in her bedroom and the shocked realisation of “You are really home? Really truly home?”

And then, with the weight of her brother’s head on her chest, she finally felt at home.

When she had left Dragonstone, Jace had been a boy reluctant to see her off. At Storm’s End, a man had come to fetch her. Something had changed behind his eyes, as the agelessness of duty had taken hold of him.

He wore armor now, armor and riding leathers, and was never unarmed in case of another attack. He was no longer just Prince Jacaerys, but the Prince of Dragonstone, responsible for it’s defenses, as well as that of the northern coast all the way up to and including White Harbour.

Baela was his second in command, as well as often scouting for her grandsire’s ships. She was just as eager as her father, who seemed to have been rejuvenated by battle and war, once more uniting forces with the Seasnake and Princess Rhaenys. They were all out for blood.

Even little Aegon seemed to have grown in those few weeks, now wearing all red and black to copy Joff who in turn copied Jace. With Luke gone, he was the second eldest boy. He had also been made cupbearer to their mother, and took that to mean the essence of chivalry.

She wondered if that did not mean he would learn and know too much, but then again, her younger brother had a sharp eye and wit. He probably would find a way to know either way.

Rhaena had to relinquish her cup-bearing duties, but not her seat on her mother’s council. She looked a great deal better than she had left her, her cheeks less hollowed but the circles of worry around her eyes just as deep as under all of theirs.

Her joy at being reunited with both her and Luke was unmatched.

She had no dragon to ride, and with no cup to fill, as her hand was still healing, she had stepped into the role of a mediator and host, the second woman of Dragonstone.

She greeted envoys and entertained them until her mother had time, with the grace, elegance, and effortlessness only Rhaena could convey.

And her mother, her Queen, was the image of majesty. Stern, yes, but not hardened to the point she would not recognise her. Worry had changed her, had added lines to her eyes and removed flesh from her cheeks, the same that had so round and pretty during her pregnancy.

But her embrace was warm and she smelled of her mother, she smelled of home.

Rhaenys had shown her her own riding leathers which had been adapted to the colours of their house. She now had the quartered shield of both Targaryen and Velaryon, a black cloak with the three-headed dragon of her mother’s house, lined with the silver of Velaryon.

There was armor too, dragonriding armor. Rhaenys had it modelled for all her granddaughters on the likeness of her own. Baela’s was silver, like Moondancer’s scales. Rhaena’s was gold and untouched. Hers was as bronze as Tyseleys.

Her mother had bristled at the mention, but Tyseleys was no dragon for patrolling. He was far larger than Moondancer, Arrax and Vermax combined. He was larger even than Seasmoke, who lingered around the isle unclaimed, and Laenor Velaryon’s dragon had nearly doubled in size since he had fought in the last Stepstones war.

Tyseleys was larger than he was, more powerful than he was, fiercer than he was. And he was a dragon fit and ready for war.

Her mother though, would not hear the mention of it. It was different with her grandparents, with Rhaenys and Corlys, and Daemon too. A glance over the glowing table of Westeros was all it took to confirm to her that he would not oppose her joining their ranks in the skies, on the contrary, she could tell by the gleam that he almost expected her too.

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon OC

Summary: Helaena gives birth to the twins. Aemond and Elyse share a moment.

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of birth – eventually smut

previous chapter ~ next chapter

Chapter 4: Lemon Cakes

Helaena’s labor was not an easy one. Elyse had feared that would be the case since the Maester announced she was pregnant with twins. It was suspected for some time, as petite Helaena seemed to be close to falling over due to the size of her stomach.

Helaena was overjoyed by the news, twins were a blessing from the Mother. Queen Alicent attempted to force a smile, but her eyes were fearful. She had met Elyse’s gaze that day, the Baratheon’s face a reflection of her own.

Helaena’s labor lasted five days, Jaehaerys coming first. Helaena had clutched her mother’s hand desperately during the labors, the other hand reserved for Elyse’s. Elyse swore she would bear scars for the rest of her life from where Helaena’s fingernails dug into her wrist. Not that she minded, she only hoped it took some of Helaena’s pain away.

Helaena was not nervous about the labor. Days before, she strolled in the garden the same as any other day despite the midwives, her mother, and Elyse begging her to take to her bed. Helaena would merely shake her head.

“Everything shall be fine,” Helaena assured the pestering women.

Jaehaerys was a round, healthy baby, who bore six fingers on his left hand and six toes on each foot, causing the midwife to screech. Queen Alicent had her removed from the birthing suite. Jaehaera followed soon after her twin, smaller and thinner than her elder brother, whispers of silver hair atop her head. She did not cry when she was born, striking fear into the hearts of the women in the room.

“Why does she not cry?” Helaena sobbed, covered in sweat and blood, tears trailing down her face. Jaehaerys suckled at her teat as Helaena reached for her daughter. “Is she alright?” she asked desperately as Alicent stroked her damp hair. The maester placed the baby girl into Helaena’s arms nodding. “She is alive and well princess, a quiet soul,” he assured her, and Helaena threw her head back with relief.

Elyse had fallen to her knees beside her childhood companion and watched as the twins fed, fingers laced in Helaena’s. She did not leave her side. Queen Alicent had two beds made up so Elyse and herself could stay with Helaena. Aemond waited patiently outside the door throughout the five days, eager to meet his niece and nephew. He would pace the corridor, anxiously awaiting updates on his sister’s health.

Aegon came a day after the birth to meet the twins, he had been spending his nights somewhere in the Streets of Silk, avoiding the screams that echoed from the birthing chamber. Though he was not present at the birth, Aegon seemed taken with the twins and pleased with his sister wife. He patted Helaena’s head as she slept, and placed a kiss atop her left hand. __________________________

“Put them back!” Septa Marla had scolded after she had entered Elsye’s bedchamber looking for her. Usually, Elyse was very sneaky with the books she collected from the palace library. Her floor was littered with them, multiple stacks around her bed as if they were stairs. Elyse knew she could access the library whenever she pleased, there was truly no need for her to hoard the books. But she enjoyed the easy access.

Septa Marla once had called Elyse a challenge sent directly from the Crone to teach her more wisdom and guidance. She spent most of her days chasing Elyse and Helaena around the Red Keep and considered tying them to their chairs on more than one occasion.

Elyse found solace in books as a child. When she lived at Storm’s End her elder sister Maris read to her stories of the Storm Queens. In childhood, Elyse idolized Princess Nymeria of Dorne, along with Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters Rhaenys and Visenya. Legend says there is magically woven into the stones that make Storm’s End, allowing it to weather any storm, and Elyse would swear she could hear the magic pulsating throughout the castle.

Septa Marla had entered her chamber and suddenly Elyse felt a girl of ten again, eyes widening as the septa's face turned red with anger. “You may be a woman grown,” Septa Marla had growled, “but that will not stop me from striking you as a child!”

Elyse had spent most of the morning choosing which books she could part with, and which could be hidden underneath her bed, as she knew Septa Marla did not jest. Elyse had taken many whackings in her childhood for a variety of mischievous activities.

Elyse now carried them towards the library, opening the heavy door and pushing inside. The several books she held nearly tumbled to the floor as the door gave way. “Seven hells,” Elyse groaned, dropping to the floor to place the books down in a neat stack. She picked up Dragons, Wyrms, & Wyverns: An Unnatural History, holding it in her hands for a moment.

The book made her think of Jacaerys and her childhood. Elyse would sit at the top of the dragonpit reading whilst Jace and Luke visited their dragons housed below. Elyse felt too nervous as a child to venture deep into the dungeons of the dragonpit, preferring to wait for her friends to return.

Smiling down at the book, she picked it up carefully, sliding it into place on a shelf. Deeper in the library, somebody cleared their throat. Elyse’s head turned at the noise; she had assumed she was alone beforehand. Creeping deeper into the library, Elyse peered between the shelves, eyes searching for the source of the noise.

Suddenly, as she came to an opening in the shelves, she saw the long, silver hair of Aemond Targaryen. His head was bowed, the leather strap of his eye patch missing from his skull. He let out a groan, hand massaging his face. The groan was familiar, Elyse realized. He was in pain. Elyse felt her mouth go dry, suddenly very aware of her intrusion. Aemond’s eye patch lay on the table next to a book he had opened before him. Elyse had never seen his eye since that fateful day on Driftmark. A memory flashed in her mind, a raw, red wound. A small boy whimpers in pain. Elyse shook the memory from her mind.

Aemond groaned again, long fingers massaging the meat of his temples, seeking relief. Elyse backed up slowly, almost back between the stack before her shoulder brushed some loose parchment, scattering them to the ground. Elyse’s eyes widened as Aemond turned in his seat at the noise, a scowl on his face. Elyse just caught his eyes, violet and….blue.

A sapphire then, Elyse thought to herself. Not a ruby or a diamond as rumored.

Her body was completely flushed with the embarrassment of being caught and she ran, not looking back. She pushed through the door and abandoned her book pile on the floor and continued down the corridor. Elyse didn’t stop until she reached the gardens, breathless. She grabbed a chair for support, trying to catch her breath.

A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. It was Helaena. “Elyse, you look a fright,” Helaena said laughing, servants following her with trays of food and cups. Helaena looped her arm in Elyse’s walking towards the table set up. “I was making haste,” Elyse said, still recovering and trying to catch her breath.

“Did you think I was going to eat all the lemon cakes?” Helaena teased and Elyse laughed, beginning to calm down. “I have been late before and suffered those consequences,” Elsye teased back, Helaena chuckling. When Helaena was pregnant with Princess Jaehaera and Prince Jaehaerys, she had a constant craving for lemon cakes and occasionally sweet meat pies. The girls sat down, preparing to gossip and chat. Perhaps, Elyse thought to herself, she had avoided any embarrassment. Perhaps Aemond would let it be.

“Ah, brother!” Helaena called and Elyse’s heart dropped. Aemond sauntered down the gravel path toward their spot. His strides were long and his face held an amused smirk, eyepatch back securely on his face. “You never join us,” Helaena scolded her favorite sibling. Aemond stood head held high, not a hint of embarrassment in any inch of his tall frame. Elyse felt hot, afraid she would suddenly burst into flames.

She looked up and made eye contact with the prince. His smirk remained as he held her gaze, finally sitting down. “I had a sudden hunger,” Aemond said, reaching for a cake. He bit into it, moaning with satisfaction, his good eye closing. Elyse’s mouth opened slightly. Aemond’s eye opened. “Delicious, just what I needed,” he said, smiling coyly.

Helaena grabbed a cake as well. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said, “this is my favorite part of the afternoon.” Aemond hummed in response. “It is a lovely time of day, don’t you agree, Lady Elyse?” he asked her directly. Helaena looked at her friend. “Yes, My Prince,” Elyse answered, somehow finding her voice. Helaena frowned. “Elyse eat! You rushed here so fast for your cake!” Helaena scolded.

Aemond raised a brow. “My sister is right, eat my lady,” he said, teasingly. “You did make such haste,” Aemond said, with emphasis on the final word. Elyse knew he was torturing her, relishing in her embarrassment. Smiling sheepishly, Elyse grabbed a lemon cake and took a bite. “You left this in your haste,” Aemond said, placing a book before her. The Glory of Volantis. A recent favorite.

Elyse looked up at Aemond after inspecting the book. His violet eye sparkled. Helaena peered at the book, the tension between her friend and sibling lost to her. “Volantis,” she mused, reaching for another treat. Elyse bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. Aemond was watching her carefully. “It is enjoyable to read about,” Elyse murmured, feeling embarrassed.

Aemond pursed his lips. Elyse looked up at him. “What?” she asked, causing the prince to shrug. “I didn’t know Baratheons could read,” he told her and her face contorted with anger. Aemond’s smile was tight, enjoying the rise he was getting out of her. “Aemond,” Helaena scolded, side-eying her brother. “That was cruel.”

Aemond kept his gaze on Elyse a moment longer. “You’re right, sister. My apologies, my lady,” he said, nodding to Elyse. Elyse felt an angry blush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks. “No,” she said and Aemond blinked. Helaena looked at her friend. “You are not forgiven,” Elyse finished, taking a bite of her lemon cake.

Aemond cocked his head. “Pardon?” he asked softly and Elyse looked at him quizzically. “Shall I repeat myself? Was it hard for you to understand the first time?” she challenged, and Aemond’s eyes were aflame, something behind them Elyse could not place. Helaena looked at Elyse and then back at her brother. “Not good,” Helaena murmured and Aemond clicked his tongue.

“Why is that?” he asked his sister, who then chuckled. “It is not wise to be on Elyse’s bad side,” Helaena said grinning at her friend mischievously. “She’s all sorts of trouble,” Helaena finished, reaching for another cake.

“She doesn’t seem too dangerous,” Aemond mused, entertaining Helaena’s comment. Helaena merely sighed. “Then you don’t know Elyse very well at all,” Helaena told him.

Aemond hummed, gaze flickering back towards Elyse who was smiling at Helaena. “And what must I do then, to earn the lady’s forgiveness?” Aemond asked, causing Elyse to shrug. “I’m sure you’ll think of something clever,” she told him, meeting his eye.

“I can think of several,” he told her, holding her gaze. Elyse’s heart hammered against her chest. Aemond suddenly looked away, as if remembering the setting. “I shall take my leave,” he said, rising from his seat. “Sister,” he said, placing a kiss on Helaena’s cheek. “Elyse,” he said, dropping his usual formality.

Elyse nodded a goodbye as he headed back towards the castle. “Well that was odd,” Helaena said, watching her brother depart, eyes beginning to drift. “What?” Elyse said, tearing her gaze from the silver prince’s back.

“Thorns pierce flesh, pricking those who wish to steal the blossom away,” Helaena murmured, amethyst eyes glassy. Elyse reached out and touched the Targaryen’s arm. “Helaena,” she called softly, urging her friend out of her thoughts.

Helaena only shrugged. “Shall we explore the gardens? There is a particular moth I have been reading about that only emerges during the hour of the bat,” Helaena said, standing and brushing her hands on her skirts.

Elyse smiled at the thought. “Yes, let's,” she said, taking Helaena’s arm in hers and heading into the castle gardens. The two ladies walked as the sun began to sink below the horizon, bathing the Red Keep in a warm, golden glow. As they made their way back towards the castle, a handmaiden approached them.

“A raven, for you my lady,” the handmaiden said, placing a letter in Elyse’s hands. Elyse examined the sigil on the wax seal and tore it open without a second thought.

My dearest, Elyse,

I should find myself in King’s Landing by week’s end. Lord Vaemond of House Velaryon has challenged the line of succession of Driftmark, declaring himself to be Lord of the Tides upon the death of Lord Corlys.

This insult cuts deeply, and my mother will not stand for the allegations my uncle proclaims. While the purpose of the trip is grim, I am overjoyed with being able to be in your presence once more. The years have been long, and lonely without your light.

The sun rises as I write to you, and I can hear Vermax singing. It is as though he knows we are to see you soon. I anxiously await our arrival and our reunion.

Lucerys and Joffrey send their love.

Yours,

Jacaerys Velaryon

Read Chapters 1-7 now on AO3

Leave kudos or a comment I'd love your feedback! 💚

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original character #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #aemond targaryen fic #oc: elyse baratheon #hotd aemond #aemond stannies #hotd #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon

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green-ajah-aes-sedai · 11 months

Text

House Targaryen

Aegon I Targaryen - x

Visenya I Targaryen - x, x, x

Alysanne Targaryen - x

Aemon Targaryen (son of Jaehaerys) - x, x

Saera Targaryen - x

Rhaenys II Targaryen - x, x, x, x, x, x

Viserys I Targaryen - x

Daemon Targaryen - x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

Rhaenyra Targaryen - x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

Aegon II Targaryen - x

Aemond Targaryen - x

Daeron Targaryen “the Daring” - x

Baela Targaryen - x, x, x, x

Rhaena Targaryen (daughter of Laena) - x, x, x

Aegon III Targaryen - x, x, x, x

Viserys II Targaryen - x

Jaehaera Targaryen - x

Aegon IV Targaryen “the Unworthy” - x

Aemon Targaryen “the Dragonknight” - x, x

Naerys Targaryen - x, x

Daenaerys Targaryen “the First” - x, x

Daenaerys Targaryen “Stormborn” - x

Rhaenys III Targaryen (daughter of Elia) - x

Aegon VI Targaryen “Young Griff” - x

#house targaryen #crownlands #got #hotd #asoiaf #my masterlists

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sweetestpopcorn · 2 years

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There are so many similarities between Viserys ii and Tywin Lannister.

Both their mother died when they were young.

Loved their wives a lot, who either left them of died.

Became stern after this. Though tywin was always stern.

Had 3 kids - 1 daughter and 2 sons.

Both were poor fathers. We know about tywin, but Viserys had no concern for Naerys when he forced her to marry Aegon.

Both their son's joined kingsguard.

Both were Hands by the age of 20 and very good at it. De facto rulers.

What say you popcorn?

Hi there! 🤗

I must confess I am not a fan of parallels, or of saying this character is just like that character. On the one hand, if that was the case, George would be doing a pretty bad job as a writer by giving us characters that are redundant, or copies of each other. On the other hand, most parallels that people use are so weak and general that they can apply for any two characters (e.g., has their house's look, has a son/daughter named X, had X children, loved to fly, had a paramour, lost their mother...).

Here let me show you how easy it is by showing you the "parallels" between Daemon and his son Aegon III. There are quite a lot of them.

Both married a Targaryen and a Velaryon woman (i.e., Laena and Rhaenyra; Jaehaera and Daenaera).

Both had three daughters and two sons (i.e., Baela, Rhaena, Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya; Daeron, Baelor, Daena, Rhaena, and Elaena).

Both lost their mothers when they were young.

Both were sons of a very famous prince (i.e., Baelon Targaryen “The Spring Prince” and Daemon Targaryen “The Rogue Prince).

Both had a brother named Viserys with whom they were close in their childhood (such closeness in their adult years was only maintained between Aegon III and his brother).

Both had two sons that became kings (i.e., Aegon III and Viserys II; Daeron I and Baelor I).

Both had their claim at one point challenged by a woman, and both later married that woman (i.e., Rhaenyra and Jaehaera).

Both had a very unfortunate and unhappy arranged first marriage (Daemon with Rhea Royce and Aegon III with Jaehaera Targaryen).

Both were skilled fighters.

I can even add, both were dragonriders, and Targaryens on both sides.

See? Quite a lot of things, but do they matter? Are they deep? I would say no, they aren’t. I used Daemon and his son but I could have easily picked other characters. And I will challenge anyone right here and now to send me characters for me to draw parallels between them. This is juts to show how pointless most parallels are.

Now are they all irrelevant? No. I believe George himself has compared Dany to Aegon the Conqueror, and their parallels are relevant, and go deeper than irrelevant things that really say very little if anything about two characters. This to say I don’t hate or dislike every two parallels, I just started to grow a deep distaste for them when I start seeing dumb things like:

“Culinary skills”, “Son named Joffrey”, “Loved to Fly” I die a little on the inside.

Comparing now the parallels between Tywin and MVP Viserys.

Both their mother died when they were young. - This is true of such a great list of characters I don’t consider it relevant. It would be like “mother died in childbirth”. Small list of other characters who lost their mothers when they were young just from the top of my head: Aenys, Viserys I, Daemon, Aegon III, Baela, Rhaena, Jon Snow, Daenerys, Cersei, Tyrion, Jaime, Harwin Strong, Larys Strong, Aemma Arryn, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark... these are just the ones who instantly popped out.

Loved their wives a lot, who either left them of died. - Tywin was always stern, he was only “happy” with Lady Johanna, yes it got worse after she died but the bar was already low. Meanwhile Viserys II was a charmer who enchanted everyone before Larra left him. Also by stating either “died or left them” I feel it’s forced and not actually the same situation. I would say it would be the same situation if both had been left by their wives, or if both their wives had died.

Became stern after this. Though tywin was always stern. - As you say - very correctly if I might add - Tywin was always stern. If Tywin didn’t really change I don’t find it an accurate parallel.

Had 3 kids - 1 daughter and 2 sons. - Again such a shallow comparison. Back to Daemon and Aegon II who each had 2 sons and 3 daughters. Were they similar? No.

Both were poor fathers. We know about tywin, but Viserys had no concern for Naerys when he forced her to marry Aegon. - I feel we need to learn more about Viserys and his children before making such a strong statement because we know so little. And being a poor father is true of so many characters - Aegon I, Jaehaerys (sometimes), Viserys I, Balon Greyjoy...

Both their son's joined kingsguard. - This yes, though in one case it was his heir, and in the other, his second son... not exactly the same situation.

Both were Hands by the age of 20 and very good at it. De facto rulers. - Actually we can’t say this. We don’t know at what age Viserys became Aegon’s Hand. I believe he only did at the end of his brother’s reign but we might need to get back to this if F&B II ever comes out (yes Popcorn making jokes at this hour lol).

The most relevant parallels that I see between Viserys and Tywin would be that they were both considered to be some of the best Hands in the history of Westeros, and both had a daughter who was queen and rumoured to have an affair with her brother who was a knight of the Kingsguard. Where it matters though, I consider Tywin and Viserys to be quite different.

Tywin was someone to whom the ends very much justified the means (i.e., having babies murdered) whilst Viserys II wasn’t that sort of person. Was he that sort of person, he would have gotten rid of Baelor even before he became king and just ceased power for himself. Certainly I can’t see anything that he did that could even be comparable to what Tywin had done to Elia and her children. Another key difference between them was how Tywin was raised for rule (being his father’s heir) and learned from his father’s own mistakes, since Tytos was a weak man. Viserys, on the other hand, was his mother’s youngest son out of five and his father’s second son. He wasn’t expected to ever become king. Both of his parents were also formidable people, none could be called weak by any chance. Let’s not forget Viserys’s mama and papa was the Rogue Prince Daddy Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen the Realm’s Delight.

About their daughters while we know the rumours about Cersei to be #facts, about Naerys we know them to be slander Aegon IV tried to throw her way, since nowhere is there something that would lead anyone who has reading comprehension to suggest that she and Aemon were indeed lovers. And another key difference is that Cersei’s line will end, whilst Naerys’s line didn’t and in fact both the Targaryens and the Martells we see in the current asoiaf books have her blood. Not to mention that personality wise, Naerys and Cersei are polar opposites, and maybe drawing the anti-parallels between them would have a LOT of merit as they are more than just skin deep.

Finally we have their deaths and how they came to be, which I think are also worth bringing up. Tywin was killed by Tyrion, and Viserys II was rumoured to be killed by his son Aegon IV. If the latter is indeed true (we don’t know for sure, I have some doubts), this would be a key parallel between them. But... here comes that but again...

While Tyrion’s actions were very much not justified but... we know where he’s coming from and from a very emotional and ignoring laws and ethics for a moment, Tywin earned what he got, Viserys did nothing to Aegon IV, that we know of, but being absent and stern and cleaning after his sh:t the best he could. Again, certainly I cannot image him doing anything of the sort of what Tywin did to Tyrion. If he had, I am positive the history books would have let us know.

So in sum, I see nothing between them strong enough to justify an “Omg they are so similar to each other”.

Funnily enough, we hear Tyrion speaking very well of Viserys II. Not really relevant to the topic but I will leave this right here because we stan MVP Viserys.

All this aside and I really enjoyed this ask, Anon. I got a lot out of my chest not gonna lie here XD and this was a really interesting question.

All the best to you, Anon 🤗

#viserys ii targaryen #tywin lannister #can we please stop comparing lannisters to targaryens?#people #house targaryen >>>>> everyone else #and it makes it all the worse that jaime is such a targaryen wannabe #he just lacks the style #every other house do keep trying #these parallels...#I swear to the seven #someone please tell me all the parallels between lyanna and jon arryn's mother #I mean they both had a son named Jon!!!!#I am sure they had SO MUCH in common #popcorn answers #FYI I don't hate all parallels #just these shallow and forced ones #like stop trying to make fetch happen #it's not going to happen

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