House Of The Dragon Fic

yesimwriting

1 year ago

Noble Only in Blood

A/n house of the dragon rewatch era <3

Summary: There are very few things you wouldn't do in order to save your brother.

Warnings: me writing for a character for the first time, targaryen incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter), reader is described as not looking like her brothers and having valyrian features, forced marriage, slight miscommunication trope (i know,, bare with me😭)

----

In times of crisis, it is instinctual to hold onto what is dear. If one has reason to believe that a thief has crossed their path, it is logical for them to reach into their purses and pockets, to make sure that what they care for most is still safe. That same impulse is what guides your hand forward, your fingers curling around Lucerys's shoulder.

After a breath, you realize that Luke has allowed himself to shuffle back, a subtle acceptance of your attempt to comfort him. That startles you more than the sudden appearance of a familiar face. Luke's distaste for what he considers 'sisterly coddling' has grown steadily over these last few years, the threat of war only amplifying his desire to shed the last few layers of protection you're able to offer him.

"It's alright." The response borders on hollow, your voice ringing flat in your own ears. You press your lips together. So Aemond beat your family to Lord Borros. That's...That means very little in the grand scheme of things. You and your brother came here to present an offer, not to begin a war. "You are here as a messenger, not a warrior."

He nods once, eyes still trained on your uncle. Even though Luke's in front of you, his stiffness is reminiscent of a time in which a conflict with Aemond meant running to you, meant attempting to hide behind you until you could either tell him off or call for your mother.

Aemond takes a measured step forward. "Really? Is that what you're calling your attempts to steal my brother's throne?"

There's a muted sharpness in Aemond's voice that feels distinct to anything you've seen from him before. This is not a burst of fury fueled by petulant indignation, this is a flash of a rage sustained by an all engulfing flame.

Your fingers press into Luke's shoulder. The sooner he's returned to the sky, the better. "I was only offering an explanation."

"The ever honest princess." Another step. "I have had enough of your brand of honesty."

Your lips briefly part before pressing together again. There is no worthy response, not with the way Aemond's watching you, expression too unforgiving to be about today. Something small and familiar attempts to dislodge itself from your throat, an echo of the apology that failed to salvage any friendship between the two of you years ago.

There's a beat of nothingness that serves as a form of recognition. Aemond straightens. "While I am accustomed to your self righteousness and defense of Lord Strong, even you cannot think you'll get to walk away after what you both attempted."

At that, Luke straightens, shoulders lifting in a way that encourages you to release him. "Leave my sister out of this." He steps forward, planting himself firmly between you and Aemond.

"Luke."

He doesn't look back at you, but your tone does seem to remind him of the importance of deescalation. "I am not going to fight you."

"No. That would be no challenge." Your fingers curl into your palm with such tension you can already feel your nails imprinting your skin. Aemond raises an arm, hand moving to pull off the patch that covers his lost eye. "I want you to pluck out your eye as payment for mine."

Luke shuffles back, head snapping in your direction. His eyes only find yours for a brief moment before he's straightening to face Aemond again, but it's enough for you to see the dread tinging his put together demeanor. His lips parted, his brows furrowed. That same little boy that always trusted you to know how to stop a game from going too far.

You squeeze Luke's arm, a silent promise, a guarantee that you'll--that you'll what? That you'll return him to Arrax unscathed? That you'll find a way to save him? This isn't the same as the faults that were dismissed as an unfortunate yet dismissible consequence of childhood roughhousing.

Blood has been divided, the rightful succession questioned. The children of rightful heirs have faced worse than what Aemond is attempting. Political divide changes things. Standing on the brink of war, you have no defense. There is no predetermined safe territory for you to rush Luke to, and yet...

"You are not taking my brother's eye." The authority bleeding into your voice provides a lifeline. You have nothing to stand on, not here, and yet the firmness of your statement manages to pulse through you.

Aemond presses his lips together, a sharp smile that's too cruel to be reduced to something as simple as sarcastic briefly taking over his expression. "Sister. Brother." He lets out a breath, radiating an assurance that turns your stomach. Aemond turns his head, his full attention falling onto you. "Surely you've seen your own reflection."

The jab should fall flat. As the only one of your mother's children to be born with features that reflect a more traditionally valyrian appearance, snide comments implying that your brothers aren't truly your brothers are far from new. Even if they're right, it wouldn't matter. Your brothers came from your mother, same as you, and even that isn't the only reason you care for them. They're your family. However, Aemond's smugness makes the comment hard to bear. He's indulging in the power he has over the two of you.

"Call him what you'd like," you say, "You're not going to touch him."

Aemond tilts his chin downwards to make it easier to watch Luke. "Do you always need your sister to defend you?"

Luke lifts his chin slightly, shifting his body forward. "There is nothing to defend. We're leaving."

The excuse to end this interaction offers you a wary sense of relief. You're not convinced that Aemond will be willing to let the two of you pass so easily, but Luke's presented an excuse to allow everyone to walk away before tensions can rise further.

Luke steps away from you, making a point to walks towards the left. Once he's a few paces away from you, you start to walk away as well. You keep your eyes trained on the back of Luke's head, as if that will keep the window from closing.

"I am owed a debt."

You turn on your heels. Luke's farther away from Aemond now, a fact you're grateful for, but now you're practically directly in front of him. The proximity throws you more than it should. The last time you were next to Aemond, the two of you were still friends. He's--you're not sure you've ever noted how tall he's gotten.

You press your lips together, dismissing the feeling. If anything, his height is just another reminder that no part of the boy that used to read with you in the library remains in him. "It will not be paid with my brother's blood."

The silence between the three of you is heavy. A part of you thinks the safest course of action might be grabbing Luke and making a run for it. An escape attempt that hasty comes with its own risks. Aemond is more determined than you've ever seen him. And you can't even truly blame him for his anger, for his hatred.

Aemond has to bear the consequences of a moment's mistake for the rest of his life. Luke took his eye, and when you defended him, you stole his trust. But allowing him to hurt Luke is the kind of cruel justice that resolves nothing.

"Aemond, I'm sorry," the genuineness of the statement knots your stomach, "About what happened." You pause, not completely sure where you're going with this. "You didn't deserve it, but that doesn't change the fact that you're taking advantage of a situation. This isn't justice it is...abuse."

He's quiet, and for a long moment you start to think that you've tugged at the wrong thread and now everything's going to unravel.

Aemond steps forward. You force yourself to stay in place. Luke's a few steps away from Aemond, and if things change that might--that might mean something. "How virtuous." His focus weighs on you enough to force the air out of your lungs. "Then tell me, my princess, how do you suggest the debt be paid?" Aemond takes another step towards you. He's so close now that you have to tilt your chin upwards to hold his gaze. "I wonder how noble you'd be if you yourself were on the line."

The meaning of his words take their time to sink in. Something hard lodges itself in your throat. You swallow in an attempt to dislodge the feeling. "My-My eye?"

"No, little good would come from it." He studies your features with such an openness you have to resist the urge to shrink in on yourself. All you have is your ability to stand firm. "You're worth more unscared." Aemond lets out a breath. "Maybe a wedding is what this family needs."

"What?"

If Aemond thinks anything of your shock, he gives no indication of it. "Marrying Rhaenyra's daughter will only strengthen my family's claim to the throne." The accuracy of the statement turns your stomach.

Noble women are regularly married off as solutions for these kinds of conflicts. It's a way of unifying dividing lines. You do not desire war, nor do you think a hypothetical marriage between you and Aemond would truly fix anything. However, the thought of being used as a political pawn to aid your mother's usurper, makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

Aemond also detests you. Marriage is more often than not about duty. Your mother has never kept that from you. The only thing she's ever assured you of is that when the time came for you to be wed, your match would be compatible. A happy marriage does not begin with love, it begins with respect and an understanding of your duty.

Anything Aemond's trying to force you into wouldn't be that. This is about vengeance, about hurting you and your family even if he has to bind himself to you to do so.

The two of you are trapped. You have no allies, no significant weapons unless you count the two dragons that stand no chance against Vhagar, and you are standing in front of someone demanding to hurt your brother. If this is the only way to guarantee your brother's safe passage back to your mother...

"If I--if I agree...you'll forgive my brother of any debt owed?" The question makes something in your chest ache. "You'll let him go?"

There's a beat in which Aemond's eyebrows seem to draw together, but he returns to neutrality so quickly you're not sure if you've imagined it or not. "You have my word."

"No," Luke's voice is right in your ear. It's his turn to grab your arm. "You can't have her."

"Luke..." His fingers wrap around your forearm, his hold on you growing more desperate. "Luke--listen to me."

He shakes his head. "No." Luke straightens his shoulders, something determined flashing behind his eyes. "No, I can't let you do this."

You turn, placing your free hand over his arm. "I will not risk your safety." He begins to protest again, but you stop him, "Go home and explain the situation to Mother." Luke places a hand over yours, a final attempt at convincing you to try anything else.

"Yes," Aemond echoes, "Go and tell your mother that the girl you consider a sister has to pay for your debts."

Luke turns his head. Despite no longer being able to see his expression, you can feel his anger. "Luke." His stillness is not enough to distract from the fight behind his eyes. "Do you trust me?" It takes him a moment to look away from Aemond, but once he does he nods. "Then I need you to go."

He doesn't exactly relax, but he does let out a breath. You pull your hands away from his before enveloping him in a hug. "It's going to be alright." It takes him a moment to think to place his arms against your back. Luke squeezes you in a way he hasn't in years, holding onto you like you're his entire world. "I will see you again."

You carefully shift back. Luke follows your lead, letting his arms fall to his side. "Yes," he says, eyes briefly shifting back to Aemond, "I will."

"Okay." The word feels fragile. "Go back, be safe."

Luke's eyes are glossy as he nods. If things were normal, he'd playfully scoff at your warnings. "I will see you again."

You nod, and Luke finally turns. He walks away, towards Arrax, towards safety. Whatever was keeping you steady seems to leave with him.

You're allowed a brief moment of silence, of grief, before Aemond speaks. "We'll ride back before the storm begins." In your panic, you had not noticed the clouds overtaking the sky. You think of Luke, riding back alone in the rain. Aemond sighs. "Your sacrifice has not been in vain, it will be some time before the skies make a turn for the worse."

Aemond's ability to read you digs at the back of your mind. It'd bother you more if his reassurance was less needed. You're not sure you can trust your voice, so you nod blankly.

He begins to walk forward. You cannot will yourself to move until Aemond's already ahead of you.

The sight of your dragon quells the loneliness hollowing your chest. Your family is far from you, but Starfyre is still by your side.

Not only are you glad for Starfyre's comfort, you're also thankful for the control of being able to ride on your own. A small part of you is also relieved for the excuse to avoid Vhagar.

You've loved dragons for as long as you can remember, and you've been wary of the larger ones for just as long. It's not exactly a fear, you've just always felt the need to admire them from afar. Even as a child, before Aemond had been able to claim Vhagar, you only wanted to observe her from a safe distance.

No one's comments have ever been able to make you wish that Starfyre was different. Her smaller frame makes you feel more in control when you fly, the two of you melding into one as you approach the skies. She's swift, too, her size allowing her soar through the sky like an arrow that never misses its target.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to keep up on that...runt of yours."

How dare he? He knows what Starfyre is capable of more than most. As a child, her speed fascinated him. A knee-jerk reaction is forced past your lips, "The last thing about this arrangement that should concern you is wether or not Starfyre can keep up."

Aemond pauses, turning to face you. Instead of attempting to insult Starfyre again, he asks, "And what should concern me?"

His words are tinged with a cruel sharpness, a silent warning to watch yourself, to not make threats you cannot follow through on. "You should be concerned that you are full of such spite, that you are willingly entering a union with someone that you have detested since--"

Aemond takes a step forward. You shift towards Starfyre, placing a hand against her side. "Since the day I lost my eye?" Another step. "Since the moment you lied to my father to protect Lucerys after what he did?"

The reality of what happened that day hits you in the chest with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. Your vision begins to blur. "He's my brother, Aemond."

"And I was your friend." The words come out hard and fast, his voice nearly breaking on the final syllable.

The honesty cracks something in your chest. Helaena, who you loved, often left you in favor of a world that you couldn't always follow her to. The other boys, who had once let you run around with them, outgrew you. But Aemond--Aemond was always yours.

Aemond scoffs. "You cannot pretend that what you did was enough to make me loathe you. I wrote to you." The letter, one detailing his new reality and desire to speak with you, has been a secret of yours for years. You've kept it tucked between the pages of your favorite book, only taking it out to reread in the middle of the night, with the rest of your family fast asleep. "And you never wrote back."

You blink in an attempt to clear your vision. "I did." The confession burns as it crawls up your throat. "But I couldn't bring myself to send you a raven."

"Because this--" Aemond moves forward in long strides. He's directly in front of you before you can think to move. He turns his head, making it impossible for you to not see his scar in its entirety. "I repulse you."

Is that what he thinks? You remain unflinching, allowing yourself to take in his scar and the appearance of his sapphire eye openly. "No." There has to be some way to put it into words. "I-I couldn't bring myself to speak to you. After the way we left things--After what I had done--I was repulsed by myself." You cut yourself off with a shaky breath. "Accepting your friendship after what I had done felt--cruel."

Aemond straightens. For a brief moment, there is only you, him, and the wound that lies between you. Then his expression's fiery edge morphs into something made of stone. "Ever the martyr."

The insult lacks any significant bite. You let your thumb brush against Starfyre's side, relishing in the comfort of her presence. "Better a martyr than someone so desperate for gratification, they are willing to hurt themselves in the process of earning it."

Ranting at him feels hollow, a motion you're going through for the sake of doing something. Aemond seems to sense some lack of fight in your phrasing, or maybe he's growing tired of this. "We should go," Aemond turns away from you, "The weather's changing."

Even though he's no longer watching you, you nod before returning your attention to Starfyre.

----

a/n this was really fun to write, but it was getting long so i decided to break it up, if you're interested in a part 2/would like to be tagged pls lmk :)

also!! if u have any hotd thoughts in general pls feel free to send me them <3

Tags :

aemond targaren x you aeond targaryen imagine aemond targaryen x reader hotd aemond aemond x reader hotd x reader house of the dragon x reader house of the dragon hotd hotd imagine hotd x you house of the dragon fic x reader aemond targaryen x targaryen! reader x targaryen! reader

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yesimwriting

1 year ago

Understanding

Part 2: Untethered

A/n the reader in this is not the same reader as the one from my aemond fic, they just have a similar background for plot (and bc i love rhaenyra's child x alicent's child trope, it's so montagues and capulets)

Summary: After speaking to his mother and small council, Aegon begins to doubt the unspoken understanding between himself and Rhaenyra's intended heir, who agreed to be taken by the greens in exchange for her brother's life.

Warnings: there are some plot deviations (mainly the implication that aegon and helaena are not married), the whole ethical 'dating someone you're technically holding hostage' dilemma, and canon compliant incest

----

The groan of the floorboards takes its time floating through your apartments, the sound so soft you don't even stir.

Aegon sighs. You've been a ridiculously heavy sleeper since childhood. He can still recall the way you'd leave these very apartments for breakfast, hair unbrushed and eyes drowsy. He dismisses the thought as he takes another step forward. You're no longer a princess with the luxury of leisure. You're staying in what you consider 'enemy territory'. One would think you'd have the decency to struggle to find sleep. If nothing else, the decency to miss him.

He swallows. Thoughts of the corner of your mouth tugging itself into a smile you didn't mean to share, of your gentle whispers felt more than heard in the darkness, of the warmth of your fingertips dragging against his skin have plagued him since he left you this morning. Aegon has not been able to release you from his mind, and here you are, perfectly content without him in a room you are only allowed access to because of his favor.

If you continue to indulge her, she'll never feel like a prisoner. The echo of his mother's words feel sharper than they should, a needle piercing his chest. Aegon had originally dismissed the sentiment. Despite the complicated nature of your presence here, the two of you have found a sort of rhythm. An inconvenient understanding.

So what if he offers you privileges that none of his half-sister's children should be allotted? You dismiss your instincts in favor of being there for him in a way no one else is. You talk; and you listen; and you lay next to him in the dark, your fingers tracing patterns against his arm until you fall asleep.

Aegon had never felt affronted by the casualness of your unspoken arrangement until his mother brought him back to reality. As long as you allow her to exist in this in between without asking for anything in return, she will remain loyal to her mother. A mother who is desperate enough to marry her off to secure alliances.

The floor creeks as he takes another step forward, this time the sound less dismissible. You shift, body twisting as you move from your stomach onto your side.

A pinprick of something akin to guilt dulls the beginning of his spiral. You mumble a sound that feels like a question. Aegon studies your movements as you wipe at your eyes. You lift your head slightly, eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Aegon?" Your features seem to ease, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips as you lift your head. "I didn't think you had time for me tonight."

There's a gentleness to your voice that leaves his stomach in knots. He's lapped at your affection like a wounded dog finally stumbling onto water. Has it all been a ploy?

If his silence affects your disposition, you give no indication of it. Instead, you beam at him before allowing yourself to slump onto your back. You pull at the blankets in an attempt to create space for him.

Aegon keeps his back to you as he sits. He takes his time laying down, one of his arms resting in the space between the two of you. Still half asleep, you reach for him. The back of your palm brushes against his wrist. You turn your hand over, fingers beginning their familiar path up his arm.

His eyes remain open, his attention set on the ceiling. You've yet to finish outlining his forearm before Aegon's turning his arm. The shift is subtle, more of an implication than an actual attempt at dismissing you. The subtlety of the movement is not enough to prevent your reaction. Despite his jokes and teasing comments, Aegon knows better than to do anything that offers you an opportunity to overthink about your your time alone together. There's a moment of stillness, and then your hand leaves him.

You turn onto your side, the weight of your stare making it nearly impossible for Aegon to remain still. "Are you--are you alright?" The question is cautious, tinged by an uncertainty that makes you sound smaller than you ever have before.

Have you ever experienced any type of rejection before? You're Rhaenyra's first born, her intended heir. The beloved princess, doted on by your mother, cared for by your supposed father, spoiled by your grandsire. His father's illness was never enough to keep him from you, the only child he had the strength to get out of bed for. You don't know what it's like to long for anything.

"We had an arrangement--an agreement." Aegon pushes himself away from you as he sits. You prop your head up, staring at him. Aegon cannot bring himself to look into your eyes. "That I'd be honest with you, and you'd be honest with me."

You sit up. "What?" You bend your knees, the sheets slipping down your legs. Aegon presses his nails into the skin of his palm. "I've--I've been honest. I've never lied to you."

The defense comes out so quick and innocent it nearly strips the accusation of any weight. It's a response that'd better suit a child caught stealing extra sweets or rough housing with a younger sibling.

He finally turns his head. The room's lack of light is not enough to diminish your wide eyes. You're radiating such innocence Aegon could choke on it. He's reminded of why he kept you at arm's length throughout your childhood. The good, perfect daughter. The future heir.

"You said your mother had no intentions of marrying you off. That you were not betrothed--"

"I'm not."

Aegon lets out a breath. "Then why did I have to spend most of my evening listening to my small council discuss your mother's latest potential alliances and addressing rumors about your mother's plan to marry you to some lord as a way of securing their support?"

You're quiet for a moment, hands clasped tightly around your knees. "I cannot help rumors." Some odd feeling gnaws at Aegon's stomach. "And you know that I haven't been home in some time. I can't control my mother anymore than you can control yours."

What a politically appropriate answer. He scoffs. "I find it difficult to believe that your mother would ever use you as a bargaining chip without--at the very least--mentioning it to you first."

If there's one thing that doesn't come naturally to you, it's deception. You tilt your chin downwards, your attention falling onto anything that isn't him.

Aegon reaches for your hand. You let him untangle your fingers. He pulls your hand forward, his thumb dragging against your knuckles. His hold on you tightens as he brings the back of your palm to his lips. A part of him is repulsed by how much he means the gesture.

He doesn't let go of you as he brings his hand back to the mattress. Aegon allows himself a moment to embrace the stillness, and then he's shifting forward. His available hand finds your shoulder. His weight presses against you, forcing you back until you're pinned against the headboard.

He holds his breath, waiting for some kind of protest, some insult or attempt to push him away. All you do is watch him, the slightest crease between your eyebrows. "Aegon."

"Tell me." Aegon's fingers press into your shoulder. "Tell me it isn't true and I will believe you. I want to believe you."

Your lips part, but you do not speak. An uncomfortable heat burns its way up his neck. "I--I did not lie." You hold his gaze. "I am not betrothed, but before I was brought here, my mother did mention that she was beginning to consider it."

All of the time he's spent indulging in your presence, living out some ridiculous fantasy of having your attention, believing everything you've told him--he's been nothing more than a fool.

"I wanted to mention it when you asked, but I was..." Your voice wavers. "Honestly, I was afraid."

His gaze falls downwards, his eyes unintentionally landing on your lips. "Because you needed me."

"No." You shake your head slightly, the motion rigid. "Our understanding," you pause, lips briefly pressing together, "Our friendship, was so new and uncertain--and I was afraid of ruining it, of being alone here, of--of the potential engagement. All of it." Your eyes are shinier than they were a moment ago. "I wanted to pretend it didn't exist."

This is the first time you've ever given any indication of not naturally taking to your responsibilities. You agreed to be taken hostage in exchange for your brother's life with little complaint or theatrical martyrism, but the thought of marrying a stranger to aid your mother's war effort shakes you to your core.

Sympathy and petulant satisfaction blend together uneasily, a continuation in the cycle of wanting you while also desiring to take everything from you.

His thumb drags down your shoulder, the warmth of your skin nearly dizzying. "Would you do it if she asked?"

You swallow. "It wouldn't matter. I'm here." He continues to trace a pattern against your shoulder. You squeeze his hand. "You can't have a wedding without the bride."

You're holding onto him with an intensity that's easing. "And if you weren't?"

As silence falls over the two of you, Aegon studies your expression. You're giving him very little to work with. "I wouldn't have a choice." Anything you've had with him has been out of the sake of convenience. It doesn't matter to you. "Aegon, you--you understand that." His lips part, but he has no response worth giving. "You have to understand that."

Aegon's hold on your hand tightens, fingers digging into into the skin of your palm. "Why?" The desperation in the question turns his stomach. He shifts his weight away from you, his hand trailing down your arm. "Do you care for me?"

Your straighten, back pulling away from the headboard. Aegon cannot will himself to read your features. "Do I care for you?" There's a barely there lilt to your voice that only makes it impossible for him to just sit there.

He forces himself to focus on the crumpled sheets in front of him. Something warm finds its way to his cheek--your hand. Your thumb drags itself across the side of his face. Aegon allows his eyes to fall shut. Gently, you guide his head forward.

"Aegon." He opens his eyes. "How many times have I been alone with you, have I--have I slept in the same bed as you?" You stumble, eyes briefly leaving his. Aegon can't help his slight smile. While you've always known about the impropriety of sleeping next to him, he doubts you know why it's viewed that way. You let out a breath in an attempt to recover. "I have risked my reputation, risked betraying my own mother--and you have to ask."

Aegon's vision blurs. He presses his lips together, forcing himself to not look away. "Of course I care for you."

He places a hand over the one you placed on his cheek. There's a lot of responses that Aegon should offer you, some declaration, some assurance of his fondness for you, but he's never been particularly talented at expressing the sentimental.

His fingers bend around your own, carefully pulling your hand away from his cheek. He sets your hand down on the mattress gently. You blink at him curiously, but before you can overthink the action, Aegon's shifting forward.

He presses his lips against yours. You're rigid, body still until he pulls your bottom lip between both of his. Aegon moves closer, one hand finding the back of your head. You lean forward, arms wrapping around his neck. You move your weight onto your knees, Aegon's available hand coming to your waist to keep you stable.

Aegon's head tilts back, creating space that you're more than ready to fill. His teeth tug at your bottom lip. You hands slide away from his neck, down his shoulders, settling on his chest. Aegon's hand moves away from your hip, coming to rest on your thigh.

The need for air brings him back to reality. Aegon breaks the kiss slowly, pulling away without letting you go. For a moment, all he can do is grin at you as you both catch your breath. "If I had known you had it in you, Princess..."

The use of your title seems to make you realize that you're still practically on his lap. You move back, making a point of sitting up straight. You roll your eyes, but between your ragged breaths and inability to lift your gaze, the look falls flat.

You keep your legs between the two of you, a barrier that bends at your knees. Aegon's smile broadens. He's not sure he's ever seen you so unsure of yourself. "I--that wasn't..."

"You can relax." You finally look up again, eyebrows drawn together in what he assumes is a display of skepticism. "I won't tell anyone." His hand find your lower leg, fingers tracing a delicate pattern against your skin. "And if anyone accuses you of anything, I'll have their tongue."

He sets his hand against your knee, his touch growing in security. You stare at your leg incredulously. "Aegon."

"What?" His thumb trails across your skin. "Would you prefer their head?"

You tilt your head, expression unamused. Aegon smiles, leaning forward to place a quick kiss against your knee before moving towards his original spot. You turn your head, watching him carefully.

Aegon lets out a sigh as he sinks into a pillow. "I'm tired."

You lay down next to him. "I didn't realize I wore you out."

The grin in your voice is audible. Aegon uses his forearm for support as he lifts himself to lean over you. "Do not start something you can't finish."

The corner of your mouth pulls itself upwards, the look similar but not quite the same as the accidental smiles Aegon has grown accustomed to. He smiles as he lies down, his head resting against your upper stomach.

You're quick to accept the proximity, your hand moving to smooth through his hair. Aegon's arm settles against your waist. This newfound closeness is nearly overwhelming in the relief it offers him. The feeling grabs at him, forcing out words he is not ready to say, "We could always get married." He tries to swallow, but the dryness of his mouth makes it impossible. "Then your mother wouldn't be able to marry you off to anyone."

Your fingers stall against his scalp. "Aegon--"

"I'd be a good husband to you."

At your silence, his fingers press into your side as if you might slip away if given the chance. After a beat, your nails begin to brush through his hair again. "You are thinking of the war, of your claim, of--of your small cou--"

"I am thinking of you."

You let out a sigh Aegon feels more than hears. "We need to be realistic. Would my mother's retaliation not concern you?"

He forces himself to focus on your tangibility. "The only thing concerning me is figuring out how to keep you here as long as possible." He drags his knuckles against your hip. "You once told me that you'd never get married, and that instead you'd spend your life riding dragons and eating cake."

You let out a soft laugh. "I can't believe you remember that."

"You sounded very serious." Aegon releases your side in favor of finding your hand. His fingers trace patterns against your palm. "We could get married and spend our days riding dragons and eating cake."

Your drag your hand away from his head, palm settling against his back. You begin to smooth circles against the fabric of his shirt. "Now you be serious."

Aegon intertwines your fingers, squeezing your palm to his. "I know better than to jest about cake."

You're so quiet he'd assume you fell asleep if it wasn't for the patterns still being traced against his spine. "Can we just...can we give it some time?"

He's not sure what you expect to get from time. The realm will still be divided, his half-sister will only grow more desperate and willing to marry you off for support, and his mother will continue to question why he's keeping you in this limbo. But the request is far from a rejection.

You've always been practical, the kind of person to think through prospects instead of trusting your instinct. Aegon is your best option, the closest thing you have to a lifeline. The way you feel about him has already encouraged you to cross lines you would have never considered approaching. Perhaps time and his attention will be what it takes to put it all into perspective for you.

Aegon lifts your hand to his mouth, his lips brushing against your knuckles. "We can give it all the time you need, Princess."

You mumble something he can't quite make out. Before Aegon can ask about it, your hand stills against him. Without looking up, he knows that you've fallen asleep.

----

A/n i had to throw in a little alicent and rhaenyra parallel <3 i could see myself writing a part 2 to this so if you like that idea lmk!! or if u want more hotd in general :)

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house of the dragon house of the dragon fic house of the dragon x reader hotd hotd x reader aegon ii targaryen aegon ii x reader aegon targaryen aegon targaryen x reader Aegon aegon x reader x targaryen!reader hotd aegon aegon the second aegon the second x reader

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yesimwriting

1 year ago

part 2 to this has gotten shockingly long 😭should i finish the last few scenes and post it all as one giant part or would you guys prefer it broken up into parts 2 & 3

i’m leaning towards the second option so that i can add extra context/detail without feeling like im yapping too much 😭