House Of The Dragon X Reader - Tumblr Posts

their angel masterlist

notes: this au does consist of canon themes of violence, sex, frightening & intense descriptions of scenes, labour and birth, and obviously; yandere and incest paired with varying age gaps. please read the warnings on the fics themselves. i am not responsible for you continuing on past the warnings.

fics

Jewelry y/n would wear

Tourney of Blood

Mare’s Milk & Cider

blurbs

Otto n Y/n’s first kiss paired with a sketch

drawings

ALL DRAWINGS OF Y/N ARE DEPICTED AS MYSELF, I DONT DO GRAY YN’S!!!!! BUT I WANT TO CLARIFY THE DRAWINGS ARE NOT WHAT I THINK YN LOOKS LIKE IN THE FICS OTHER THAN CLOTHING AND JEWELRY.

Angel of The Red Keep & Aegon’s II

sketch of y/n in the scene i imagined for Otto n hers first kiss.

their angel au WIP

me to you;

No tears wet your cheeks like your sister, like your father. Eyes wet but not a shed tear, images flash before your eyes; your sweet mother and baby brother, wrapped up by the silent sisters. The gods were cruel..

On the other side of the room you can hear Viserys chipping away at the stone replica of Old Valryia, nights before like a lullaby but tonight it grates at your ears like claws. You can feel your fathers pain like it’s a thorn in your throat,

you look at your sister, her cheeks red and still wet but she sleeps like a newborn lamb- peaceful. As if she wasn’t in grief, like she had wailed until no sound came out.

Slowly, you get out of bed, as gently as possible you pull the covers over Rhaenrya. Tucking her in like mother would before making your way to Viserys, trying to keep a light step.

Still; he chips away at the stone, almost like a ghost. Even your soft hand on his shoulder doesn’t interrupt him, giving his cheek a chaste kiss.

“I’m going for a walk. I shall be back, be in bed when I return- please.” you request sweetly, pressing your forehead against his temple. He pauses for a moment- he turns to kiss your forehead. A short acknowledgment leaves his lips though you don’t know what he said exactly, perhaps a grunt or a murmur.

This may be the fic that Daemon appears in FINALLY!!! 💕 as well might tumble into reader claiming Balerion(since the cannibal is on dragon stone) but we’ll see.

When Fire Meets Fate

Part 8

Request: Yes or No

~~~

The dark gray skies and cold weather greatly reflected the somber mood hanging over everyone. Sunlight peeked through the clouded skies, shining down on those gathered but more specifically on the stone casket of the beloved Laena Velaryon. There was no body, however, as the young mother had screamed for her dragon to save her from the very fate that befell Queen Aemma and thus had been reduced to ashes. But Lady Laena hadn't been the only one (Y/N) Hightower and Rhaenyra Targaryen mourned. 

In an almost cruel joke, Ser Harwin Strong and his father had also been reduced to mere ashes in their very home. And while (Y/N) and his sons wished to attend the funeral, Rhaenyra rejected the idea as it would only bring more attention to them. (Y/N)'s departure with the princess had fueled more rumors at court despite Queen Alicent planting her own seeds and their father's return to court as Hand of the King. The last thing Rhaenyra wished for her family were more rumors, more doubts seeping into the minds of her young children. 

"We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the Lady Laena of House Velaryon to eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King where He will guard her for all days to come. As she sets to sea for her final voyage, the Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the shore." The uncle of the late Laena, Vaemond Velaryon, spoke softly as the casket of his niece was prepared by knights, gaze settled solely on Daemon. The Velaryons, apart from Vaemond who wore black and gold, were clad in dark shades of blue and black. Laena's daughters, Baela and Rhaena Velaryon wept in the arms of their grandmother. Continuing, Vaemond turned his sharp gaze onto Jace and Luke. "Though their mother will not return from her voyage, salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin."

Giggling from Daemon broke the solemn silence, eyes turning in his direction as his shoulders shook. The Velaryons glared at him but nonetheless remained silent, looking back at the casket as the knights pulled on the ropes to push it toward the ocean. "My gentle niece. May the winds be as strong as your back, your seas as calm as your spirit, and your nets be as full as your heart. From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return." Vaemond finished as the casket plunged into the depths of the dark water.

Finally breaking his gaze away from the waves, (Y/N) turned his head and met his fathers' eyes. Otto hadn't changed much over the years other than his ever-so-slowly graying hair. There were more wrinkles on his face but his deep-set frown and hardened eyes remained. (Y/N) couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to his father but he knew the conversation had been far from civil as always. However, it didn't stop a certain longing from developing in his chest. It'd been many years since he last felt the comforting touch of a parent and despite his age, he wished for nothing more than to collapse into the arms of his mother or father. But (Y/N) hadn't been granted the unconditional love of a father, far from it. His father's love changed as quickly as tides and (Y/N) had long stopped caring about meeting his expectations. 

The crowd began to disperse with the funeral officially over. King Viserys had been given time to depart first with his wife and Hand, followed closely by the Velaryons and the others. Guests scattered around Hide Tide, sipping on drinks and eating the few snacks provided whilst they chatted or lingered around alone. (Y/N) joined the others on a large balcony overlooking the sea and looked out at the distant waves. He could feel stares burning into the back of his head, most likely his father and sister, but the chances of them approaching him in public were low. He'd betrayed the Hightower name by having bastard children and then dragged it through the mud by abandoning his twin sister.

"Uncle." A soft voice greeted from behind and (Y/N) turned, facing his nephew. Aemond offered a small timid smile and stepped closer, peering over the stone to take a glance at the sea. "Mother misses you terribly, Uncle."

"I miss her as well, Aemond." (Y/N) sighed tiredly, looking toward his sister and meeting her gaze.

"Then, come home. You can return with us when we depart." 

"I'm afraid the Red Keep is not my home." (Y/N) responded, looking back down at the silver-haired prince. Aemond's pale brows furrowed and he tilted his head, fingers toying with the side of his dark green hood.

"Mother says you were raised there."

"Yes, we were." The older man confirmed with a nod, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers through Aemond's hair. "But the place you were born or raised in does not have to be your home. A home is somewhere, or someone, that makes you feel safe and loved, and wanted. The Red Keep has never felt like home for me and that's perfectly fine."

"Then... You're my home." Aemond looked up at his uncle and (Y/N) chuckled softly, patting the top of his head before dropping his hand to his side. Noticing the way Aemond's eyes followed his hand, he glanced down and spotted the ring the boy eyed. With a small smile, (Y/N) crouched down and slipped the ring off his finger, offering it to him. Aemond blinked, glancing between the ring and his uncle before hesitantly taking it into his hands. 

"It's a sapphire." (Y/N) murmured. "One of my favorite gems."

"I can have it? Even if it's your favorite?" 

"Consider it a gift from your favorite uncle." (Y/N) answered playfully, hearing Aemond giggle softly. The boy slid the ring into his pocket and stepped forward, arms wrapping around (Y/N)'s neck. (Y/N) rubbed his nephew's back, leaning back when Aemond pulled away and watching him weave through the crowd to show his mother his new ring. The Hightower stood up, looking away from the two when Alicent looked up at him. (Y/N) briefly met Daemon's gaze, a smirk toying on the prince's lips despite having just lost his wife. 

"Have you seen Laenor?" Rhaenyra's voice reached his ears as she appeared at his side, momentarily eyeing her uncle. She turned her back to him and looked at her lover, a hint of worry swirling in her light eyes. The setting sun casted a warm glow on her face.

"He's just lost his sister, Nyra. He's most likely drowning in wine somewhere in the castle." 

"Even more so a reason to find him," Rhaenyra muttered quietly, attempting to avoid drawing even more attention as she glanced around at the other guests. "You know how he is when he's had too much to drink."

"Well-" 

"Retrieve your patron." Corlys' voice hissed through the crowd and when the couple turned, they spotted him with a hand tightly gripping Ser Qarl Correy, Laenor's lover. Releasing his hold after being coaxed by his brother, Corlys glared down at the knight and watched him leave to find Laenor before he could rain fury down on them. 

"Problem solved. If you'll excuse me, I'm going for a walk. I've had enough of people's stares for today." (Y/N) exhaled heavily and stepped away from Rhaenyra, making his way through the crowd and toward the stairs, but before he could reach them, a body stepped in front of him. One glance at the pin proudly resting on their chest told him enough.

"Father."

"Son." A stoic exchange between the two but neither had expected tears and hugs at their inevitable reunion. Clasping his hands behind his back, (Y/N) tilted his chin up and finally looked at his father up close after the many years that had passed. How he wished the old man had remained in Oldtown. But Otto would be a vulture until his death, searching for power wherever he could find it and with the death of the Strongs, the position for Hand had fallen right back into Otto's lap. (Y/N) had no doubt Alicent helped convince the king.

"I see you've left King's Landing. I was surprised to hear you did so without telling your sister. Were you afraid she'd convince you otherwise?"

"Queen Alicent wasn't informed because her husband was and I assumed he would've eventually informed her of this. It appears he chose not to until we were already at Dragonstone." (Y/N) answered, giving a light shrug. Narrowing his eyes, the older man opened his mouth to speak but (Y/N) moved around him and headed down the stairs, sparing a glance at his eldest nephew who lay at the bottom of the stairs with a cup in hand. The stairs took him to the beach and he walked alongside the water, feeling the sand tug at his legs with every step, not that he noticed when his body had grown sluggish over the days. Every time he tried to sleep, he'd be plunged into a sea of memories and reminders of what he'd lost.

"Fuck." (Y/N) cursed, feeling the tears prick at his eyes. Feelings of regret and guilt erupted in his chest, his mind cursing at him relentlessly. He knew if his sister hadn't planted the rumors at court, their beloved Harwin would've lived. And as much as he wished to cast the thought away, he knew she had something to do with his death. How he desired to turn back time and properly say his goodbyes to Harwin. But as he climbed the sandy hills and reached more sturdy ground, he knew there was no point in wallowing in the 'what ifs' that plagued his mind. Being pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his name being called, he turned his head and looked back at Rhaenyra as she clumsily climbed the hill.

"I know you are angry with me." Rhaenyra breathed, releasing the sides of her black dress walked closer to him, a frown present on her face. "I know you wished to attend their funeral-"

"I know why you forbade it, Nyra. I am no fool; I'm aware there weren't only just whispers of you and Harwin." (Y/N) interjected, resuming his walk but slowing his pace to allow Rhaenyra to walk alongside him. The princess sighed, gazing out onto the hills of sand and grass, the wind whipping back her hair and dress. 

"I wished I had kept Harwin at court, (Y/N), I do. I wish I had decided on Dragonstone sooner and saved him from that dreaded curse."

"There is no curse, Nyra. Only scheming and coins."

"Do.." Rhaenyra swallowed, glancing at him before shaking her head. "I do not believe your sister capable of cold murder."

"I believe her capable of trusting the wrong people, as she has time and time again. I know my sister is not innocent or an inherently good person but I know she would not want to cause such harm. She relies on people who only wish to use her for one thing or another. But I did my duty as her brother. I tried to be there, I tried to shield her, I tried to teach and guide her but she refused to listen. I am aware that underneath her now cold exterior is the Alicent I once knew... But I am afraid that when she finally becomes her again, it'll be far too late. This path was chosen for her but she's never made any attempts at straying off it or turning back." (Y/N) spoke, voice nearly cracking. The emotions he'd held back for so many years came crashing down. Coming to a stop, the man turned toward the sea and stared out at the dark water.

"You said it yourself, my love. You tried." Rhaenyra whispered, reaching out to take his hand into hers, gaze softening as she stared at him. "And for the most part, you succeeded. I've heard Alicent during council meetings and I see so much of you shining through. You've taught her well but you couldn't guide her forever. And I believe she knows that too, even if she refuses to admit it. When you are trapped... It is sometimes better to accept your cage rather than escape it."

"I wish to see her happy... Just one last time. I cannot even remember the last time I've heard her laugh or seen her genuinely smile." (Y/N) exhaled, fingers gently wrapping around Rhaenyra's hand. The princess stepped closer, bringing his hand to her face and delicately kissing it before she pressed his hand against her cheek. 

"You are a good brother. And a good father, even if the boys don't know it." Rhaenyra pressed her chest to his and reached up with her free hand, placing it on the side of his neck and stroking the skin with her thumb. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against (Y/N)s', leaning her forehead against his. "I wish we could be together now."

"Laenor does need you, Nyra. Despite his flaws and albeit childish nature." (Y/N) sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he basked in her presence and comfort. Rhaenyra softly grunted, dropping her head to his shoulder and wrapping both arms around him. While they weren't able to mourn publicly, they could mourn privately and in the safety of each other's arms. (Y/N) rested his chin on her head and looked back out at the waves, their soothing song calming the storm in his mind and heart. Harwin wouldn't wish for them to grieve forever. He'd want them to be strong for the boys, to celebrate his life rather than weep over his death. 

The sound of wings and a low rumbling sound pulled the two apart. They turned their attention to the sky as a large dragon passed overhead, flying through the clouds and diving down toward the water, skimming it with their wings and legs. There were only three dragons as big as the one flying and one had died long before either of them had been born. The other one resided on Dragonstone which left only one dragon and her rider had been put to rest that very day. 

"Were you aware Vhagar was claimed so soon?" (Y/N) questioned, turning toward his lover. The surprise on her face answered his question and he brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning softly. Turning toward Hide Tide, he watched Vhagar land near the castle to presumably drop off her new rider. (Y/N) could only pray to the Gods above that her newest rider wasn't one of his mischievous sons.

Taking Rhaenyra's hand, (Y/N) tugged her toward the castle, quickening their pace once the surprise wore off. By the time they arrived at the steps, Vhagar had already taken off into the skies. They hurried up the steps and entered Hide Tide, following the sound of voices until they reached the throne room and entered the crowded room. Knights, a few servants, the Velaryons, and Targaryens had gathered in the room. Sweeping his gaze over the room, he spotted why. In a chair near the crackling fire sat Aemond with a maester and a crying Alicent at his side whilst (Y/N)s' eldest sons stood on the other side of the room, bruised and dirty. Even Daemon's daughters had bruises on them.

"Jace? Luke!" Rhaenyra rushed to her sons, crouching down by Luke and gently prying his hand away from his face to look at his nose. "Who did this?"

"They attacked me!" Aemond shouted, whirling around in his chair to look at his older sister with a sneer. (Y/N) winced upon seeing the injured side of his face. His eye had swollen shut, a long cut trailing from his forehead down to near his jawline had been stitched closed. The children began shouting and arguing, accusing each other of attacking and protesting. But despite the loud bickering, (Y/N) heard the cause of the fight; Aemond had claimed Vhagar as his. (Y/N) sighed heavily, hearing Daemon snicker from his spot against the wall and King Viserys attempting to quiet the arguing.

"Silence!" King Viserys shouted, voice bouncing off the walls and effectively quieting the children. Exhaling, the old man leaned against his cane and began approaching his son, all eyes turning toward the king. "Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

"What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible."

"It was a regrettable accident." Rhaenyra quickly insisted, wrapping her arms around the boys and glancing in (Y/N)s' direction. The Hightower remained by the doors, gaze flickering between his lover and his sister. Both mothers with injured sons, both women he loved dearly, both women he vowed to protect who were now publicly arguing.

"Accident?" Alicent repeated with a scoff, brown eyes glittering with tears at the brutality her son faced. "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to an ambush. He meant to kill my son."

"It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!" Rhaenyra shot back at her, voice raising considerably. "Vile insults were levied against them."

"What insults?" King Viserys asked curiously, turning to his eldest daughter with furrowed brows. (Y/N) swallowed when Rhaenyra glanced at him once more, her lips pursing slightly as she gently took Luke's hands into her own. All too familiar insults, he assumed. 

"The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly to question." 

"He called us bastard." Jace piped up quietly, face caked in dirt and blood. A heavy silence fell over the room as King Viserys absorbed the information whilst Alicent lowered her gaze. Others exchanged uncomfortable or knowing looks, some eyes flickering over to (Y/N). The young man kept his head up despite the stares from Daemon, Otto, and the Velaryons. He could only watch unless he wished to risk the wrath of either woman or even the King.

"My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons." Rhaenyra continued, taking a step forward and watching her father closely, pleadingly. "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders." She finished, lifting her eyes to meet Alicents' teary-eyed ones. The brunette stared at her former friend before she turned her head toward her brother, betrayal etched all over her face. 

"Over an insult?" She breathed with raised brows, looking back at Rhaenyra and motioning at her injured son. "My son has lost an eye." 

"You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?" King Viserys questioned Aemond, leaning downward toward his son and tightly gripping his cane. Aemond kept his gaze on his lap, fingers digging into the armrests of the chair.

"The insult was training yard bluster. The lot of boys. It was nothing." Alicent alleged desperately for she knew the answer but her husband merely glanced in her direction, unconvinced by her answer. 

"Aemond... I asked you a question." Aemond swallowed, nervously peering up at his father as King Viserys spoke, tone shifting into one of impatience.

"Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys' father?" Alicent attempted again when Aemond couldn't provide an answer, turning toward those present in an attempt to rouse them and push the attention away from her son. "Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."

Her attempt worked, seeing as King Viserys looked upon his daughter. "Yes, where is Ser Laenor?"

"I do not know, Your Grace. I... I could not find sleep. I went out for a walk." Rhaenyra answered, clearing her throat and averting her gaze as (Y/N) avoided Daemon's knowing look. The prince smirked from his spot, eyeing the lord before he turned his attention back onto his brother and young nephew.

"Entertaining his young squires, I would venture," Alicent muttered, drawing glares from Corlys and Rhaenys. Ser Criston smirked and bowed his head to hide it but (Y/N) caught sight of his reaction and felt a wave of irritation wash over him. With his interest in Laenor's whereabouts quenched, King Viserys returned to Aemond. 

"Aemond, look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?" King Viserys demanded and Aemond swallowed, shrinking back into his seat and looking toward his mother. Alicent tensed, breath hitching as King Viserys and the others turned to her.

"It was Aegon," Aemond finally answered.

"Me?" Aegon breathed, staring down at his brother wide-eyed. Aemond relaxed when King Viserys looked away from him and instead focused on his older brother. The old man stepped toward his son, lip curling.

"And you, Aegon? Where did you hear such calumnies?" King Viserys questioned, patience beginning to wear thin. When his son didn't answer, he leaned toward his face and shouted, "Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!"

"We know, Father," Aegon spoke quietly, slowly turning to look at his father. "Everyone knows... Just look at them." He whispered. Rhaenyra tensed, desperately glancing in (Y/N)'s direction as she pulled Lucerys closer to her body, her own eyes beginning to water. King Viserys glanced back at Alicent, falling silent when he looked at (Y/N). The Hightower averted his eyes, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.

"This interminable infighting must cease!" King Viserys spat, slamming his cane into the ground and facing the people gathered. "All of you! We are a family! Now make your good will and share your apologies to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!" Slamming his cane once more, he exhaled and shook his head, unable to meet his wife's eyes as he walked by her.

"That is insufficient," Alicent protested, staring at her husband. King Viserys sighed softly and faced his wife. "Aemond has been permanently damaged, My King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken."

"What would you have me do?" King Viserys asked, voice bordering on desperate and exhausted. 

"There is a debt to be paid," Alicent croaked with a trembling voice as she stared her husband in the eye. Clenching her jaw, the brunette turned toward Rhaenyra. "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return." She demanded, murmuring spreading through those present as Rhaenyra pushed her sons behind her, eyes widening in fear. Finally moving from his spot, (Y/N) quietly moved down the stairs. 

"He is your son, Viserys!" Alicent implored with a whimper, her bottom lip quivering when she faced her husband once more. King Viserys stepped toward her, shaking his head.

"Do not... allow your temper to guide your judgment." King Viserys stressed, glaring at his wife for voicing such an idea. His cane tapped lightly against the ground when he turned away from her again, resuming his walk back to his room. Alicent's fingers curled into fists and she inhaled deeply, glancing at her son.

"If the King does not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon." She ordered the knight, the desperation that had previously coated her voice now placed by coldness. The knight stared at her in return as Corlys protectively took the terrified Luke into his arms. "He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son."

"You will do no such thing!" 

"Stay your hand." King Viserys quietly ordered Ser Criston.

Scoffing, Alicent raised a hand to her chest, pointing at herself. "No, you are sworn to me!" She shouted, turning her furious glare onto the knight when he made no attempt to move. Ser Criston swallowed, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, the metal of his armor clinking together. 

"As your protector, My Queen." He reminded softly. Alicent's brows raised, arm dropping to her side as her face went blank with defeat. (Y/N) turned to look at Rhaenyra and the boys, noticing Jace looking at him fearfully. (Y/N) sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

"Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?" King Viserys sneered, getting close to his wife. Alicent reeled back, lips parting as she met her husband's glare. King Viserys leaned back and stepped away from his wife, gazing over the crowd. "And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's sons should have it removed." He settled his gaze on his wife, shaking his head at her disapprovingly and turning away.

"Thank you, Father," Rhaenyra murmured, turning around and crouching down to inspect her sons once more. Striding forward, Alicent retrieved King Viserys' dagger and turned toward Rhaenyra, making a beeline for the princess as shouting and shoving commended. Frightened screams escaped the children as Rhaenyra whirled around and quickly caught Alicent's arms, a circle forming around the women. 

"Alicent!" (Y/N) shouted for his sister, moving forward to push through the crowd. A blur of silver ran at him but before Ser Criston could reach the lord, Daemon put himself between them and shoved the knight back. (Y/N) paused, staring at the two men until Daemon nodded for him to separate the two women. (Y/N) pressed his lips together and looked away from the prince, forcing his way through the crowd and spotting the two.

"You've gone too far!" Rhaenyra shouted, arms trembling as she attempted to hold Alicent back, looking between the blade and the girl she once loved as a sister.

"I? What have I done but what was expected of me?" Alicent wailed, the tears slipping down her cheeks. "Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you wish!" 

"Alicent, let her go!" King Viserys demanded but it fell on deaf ears.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It's trampled under your pretty foot again!" Ignoring even Otto's demand, she continued. "And now you take my son's eye, and to even that you feel entitled."

"Exchuasting, wasn't it?" Rhaenyra sneered. "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are."

Grunting, Alicent and Rhaenyra shoved each other away, but not before the blade was brought down and sliced skin. A silence fell over as the women were caught before they could fall, the sound of dripping soon filling the quiet. Rhaenyra slowly looked down at her hand, extending her fingers as blood slipped between them and onto the floor. Upon seeing the blood, Alicent's breath hitched, the dagger falling to the floor with a clatter. (Y/N) approached his lover, gently taking her arm into his hands. 

"Enough of this foolishness!" (Y/N) snapped, lifting his head to look over everyone "All the children must and will be punished for all of them behaved inappropriately. There was no need for their disagreement to escalate to violence, much less to bloodshed. Behaving in such a manner is below their stations as princes and ladies. They are no brutes, no savages. This matter could've been resolved peacefully in the presence of an adult. It is severely disappointing to witness such behavior from a bunch who I know were raised better than this." The children lowered their heads at his words.

"Lord (Y/N) is right but let us put this matter to rest for tonight." King Viserys spoke, finally being allowed to return to his bedchambers without interruption. Alicent followed after some coaxing from Ser Criston and he escorted her out of the room. Corlys and Rhaenys exchanged tired looks before urging their granddaughters back to their room. (Y/N) made brief eye contact with Daemon, giving him a thankful nod as the prince took his leave as well. 

Escorting Rhaenyra to her room with the boys and maester, (Y/N) replayed the events of the night in his head. The first time Alicent and Rhaenyra had clashed so publicly, so openly. Sure, the two argued occasionally but neither ever dared raising a hand to the other. His sister had never been prone to such violence. (Y/N) made himself occupied by retrieving a bowl of water and having the boys clean their faces with a wet rag. The maester tended to them first before focusing on Rhaenyra and stitching her cut. The princess winced and hissed, flinching every few seconds. By the time he finished, the sun had begun to rise.

"I must prepare for our departure." (Y/N) muttered, giving Rhaenyra's shoulder a gentle squeeze and exiting the room. His legs took him to his room and he quietly thanked the maids already there, folding and packing away things. He picked out a fresh set of clothes and changed, retrieving a warm coat and watching the servants take away the few belongings he'd brought along. (Y/N) left his room, wandering the halls of High Tide until he reached a balcony and stepped out, looking out to sea. The cold wind nipped at his nose and cheeks but he didn't mind it. Eventually, he spotted the ship his sister and her husband were on, the dragons following not long after.

"I spoke to Laenor," Rhaenyra spoke from behind him, approaching his side. "And Daemon."

"Should I be worried?" (Y/N) asked, a hint of both playfulness and seriousness to his tone. Rhaenyra's silence only amplified the concern forming in his stomach. She stared out at the boat, fingers rubbing against the bandages wrapped around her arm. 

"I must know, (Y/N)... Who do you side with? By blood, you are a Hightower and it would not be fair of me to ask you to turn your back on blood."

"They are not the only ones I share blood with, Nyra." (Y/N) murmured, turning his head to look at her. "You are the mother of my children and I have been by your side long before their births. The moment I devoted myself to you, I stopped being a green."

"Then, let us bind our blood. My claim may not be so easily challenged with you as my husband and king consort. Tonight, you proved to have the wisdom of a good king and you know the greens better than I ever could." Rhaenyra spoke firmly, determination laced into her voice as she faced the Hightower. (Y/N) studied her face, his face unreadable to the woman who knew him since childhood. Swallowing, she continued, "Since I was young, I always knew you and I were destined for many things. Together. Let us fulfill that by joining together in marriage once and for all." 

"What of Laenor? You cannot marry unless he dies."

"I know. I sought out my uncle for a reason." Rhaenyra cupped her hands together, gazing back out at sea. "He claims to be a queen, my subjects must love and respect me. But they must also fear me. . It will cost Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys their only remaining child and the realm will whisper that we were somehow responsible. They will fear us. But Laenor will be dead to everyone but us as he will be living a free life across the sea. What do you say?"

                    ✶        ✶       ✶       ✶       ✶       ✶

Lifting the dragonglass blade, (Y/N) sliced her bottom lip, a droplet of blood slipping from the cut. Gathering the blood with his thumb, he lifted his hand and dragged his thumb down Rhaenyra's forehead. The silver-haired princess adoringly stared up at him, using the blade to cut his lip as well and mark his forehead before she cut her palm and handed him to blade. (Y/N) winced slightly, dragging the blade down his palm and taking Rhaenyra's hand in his, binding their blood together as a priest spoke. Their children along with Daemon and his daughters watched on. 

Bringing the cup to his face, (Y/N) felt his bottom lip sting as he drank from it. He handed it to Rhaenyra and watched her drink, the cup being set down beside them. Once the priest finished speaking, Rhaenyra smiled and cupped her husband's face, stroking his skin with her thumb before they leaned in. (Y/N) could taste their blood, lip stinging from the pressure but he ignored it. Rhaenyra pulled back, her bottom lip smeared with blood and saliva. She rested her forehead against his. And now, before the eyes of a priest, they were united. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.

"Avy jorrāelan, (Y/N)."

"Avy jorrāelan, Rhaenyra."

𝓜𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵

Devil Aemond Targaryen x Witch Reader

Summary: She wanted power and control , and she was determined to do anything to get it. She knew exactly how far she had to go and what she had to sacrifice to make devil himself appear and turn her dreams into reality.

A/N: There was a lot of inspiration from novels and series with witchcraft and witches, so there may be darker askpets in this work, as well as a slight devil worship. So if you are not comfortable with that , you are forewarned. Nevertheless , I hope you all will like the idea and as usual you will enjoy reading it. Please remember that english is not my native language, mistakes may happen.

Work contains smut , minors do not interact.

He stood before her. A fallen angel. The dark lord. The devil himself.

He was tall and lean, but behind the layer of blood she could see the muscles that tightened with every breath he took. His long hair had been tainted with a scarlet substance, but she could still see their silvery whiteness. One of his eyes was violet while a sapphire stone glowed in the other. He had long face which was decorated with a scar, but it only made him more handsome in her eyes.

There was a darkness around his person , a feeling of danger.

But despite this, she stood before him , staring at him. She did not fall to her knees before him , she did not bow , she just stood , silently watching the former God's soldier , who stared at her just as intensely.

-You came - she whispered after a moment , approaching him slowly.

-You called - he replied , smiling smugly , when he noticed how the woman looked at him , how she fought to control the trembling of her body.

The man allowed her fingers to brush against his pale torso, where his heart was hidden, taking pleasure in her curiosity , which seemed to grow by the second, with each newly touched patch of his skin.

-How should I call you? - she asked , leveling her gaze with him.

Suddenly he grabbed her wrist , that was touching his human flesh.

-You have called me , and yet you do not know my name? - he said, pulling her close to him, so close that their lips were almost touching, and their breaths mingled.

-You have many names and many forms - she replied , resting her free hand on his shoulder to try and push him away , but in vain.

The devil took one last look at her before his attention shifted to the witch's wrist, the same one he held in an iron grip, the same one he kissed extremely tenderly, leaving an electrifying feeling behind.

-Aemond - he muttered after a brief moment , his mouth moving upward, kissing her blood-stained fingertips - You will call me Aemond , little witch.

-Aemond - she repeated, tasting his name on her tongue.

-Again - he growled , embracing her around the waist , making her black , lace dress slowly become covered in crimson.

-Aemond - she whispered , looking at him , but his attention was focused on her full , soft lips.

-Tell me my beautiful Y/n- he murmured , catching her chin between his fingers, pulling her towards him again ,letting her addictive scent delude his senses -Tell me what you desire , and I will give it to you.

-You know my name? - she asked, but there was no surprise nor intrigue, which made the white-haired devil even more crazy about mortal woman.

-How could I not know the name of the witch who sacrificed so many innocent lives so that I could come down to earth? -he remarked, smiling tauntingly, out of the corner of his eye looking at the window, reminding her of the bodies lying in the forest deep in the ground and the sea of blood that she shed - I'll aks you one more time, what is it that you want? -he repeated himself, sliding his thumb over her lower lip , staining it with blood.

-I want Salem, I want it all for myself - she confessed without a shadow of hesitation in her voice.

-I'll give you Salem. I'll give you a town from the edge of the world, and with it all the miserable lives that are in it - he said - But I won't do it for free - he confessed, and the woman widened her eyes in disbelief and irritation, which she did not manage to hide from the man before her.

-I called you on Black Sunday. I have performed the ritual. I shed the blood of the pure and innocent so that you can stand here before me in a body of flesh and bone. I gave you all I could give. What more do you want? - she wondered , furrowing her eyebrows in an act of displeasure, which amused the devil.

-You- replied Aemond , stroking her cheekbone with his thumb -I want you to become Queen of the Night. I want you to rule at my side in hell as my beloved and as my bride. I want...to have you.

-Why me? -she asked, pushing him away moments later-What is so compelling about me that the devil himself wants to have me?

The woman looked at him expectantly, but he remained silent for a long time, trying to get close to her again, which resulted in her slowly moving back with every step he took towards her, playing a game of cat and mouse with him.

-Everything my beautiful Y/n - announced the king of hell , still following her silhouette , almost like a predator followed after its prey -I know your thoughts , your dreams , and your goals. When you made a pact with me, you let me see the darkness you hid inside your soul. The darkness that made me crazy about you - he growled , grabbing her by her forearm, pulling her toward him to trap her in his strong arms once again.

The young woman looked into his violet eye before her gaze focused on his scar. Her hand involuntarily lifted upward the tips of her fingers touched the thickened tissue , tracing its path.

Her act seemed to have no deeper purpose, but this was not true. That scar and that sapphire hidden in his eye socket spoke of the fact that someone had once defeated him, leaving him crippled and betrayed. And she knew that the devil was as vengeful as he was powerful and that no one would go unpunished as long as he existed.

And the witch needed this , she needed her own black knight ready to kneel at her feet.

-If that's what I have to do to get what I want - she purred like a cat, bringing her face closer to his -Then make me your queen - she whispered into his mouth , brushing them gently with every word she spoke.

Aemond growled lowly at her words , clenching his large hands on her waist before he attacked her soft, pink lips.

His body was hot against hers, giving her the impression that she was being burned alive, but despite this she did not move away from him, entangling her fingers between strands of his white hair, pulling at them and drawing him closer as he tore her dress off her shoulders, leaving her only in a black velvet choker with an obsidian crystal hanging lazily in the middle.

-Now you belong to me - he said , grabbing her neck and pulling her away from him -Your body and soul are mine. For all eternity - he muttered into her swollen lips.

-Yours. All yours - woman declared quietly, trying to reunite their lips in a fiery, passionate kiss, only to have the man's rough fingers tighten on her throat.

Devil laughed as he observed her actions.

The witch in front of him seemed so cold, yet one touch from him was enough for lust to take over her mortal mind.

She was almost like an enigma to him , but it didn't frustrate him , oh no , on the contrary. He was pleased with this fact , pleased that his new toy wasn't so easily broken.

But he decided to try break her anyway.

He pushed her body against a nearby wall , hovering over her almost immediately. Still avoiding her sweet lips , which called out to him , he kissed her ample breasts , going lower and lower , marking every , possible patch of her firm skin , until his tongue found it's place between her swollen and wet folds.

He tasted her as if she were the sweetest of desserts, causing her to let out a loud, erotic and lustful moan. Her fingers once again found their way into his long hair as she w writhe in convulsions of pleasure that the devil himself was giving her. His movements were precise and bestial at the same time, making the knot of her lower abdomen burst pathetically fast and impossibly intense drenching his face with her juices, which only made him more feral.

Aemond joined their lips in a sensual kiss , placing his hands on her thighs , lifting her in one , sure movement , as if she weighed as much as the feather itself.

Laying her down on the soft mattress , he did not even for a moment move away from her addictive lips , which so soft and sweet stimulated his senses . His hands, soon after, began to roam over the witch's delicate body , exploring every inch of her immaculate flesh just as his lips had done moments ago.

-Please - she panted - Please don't make me wait any longer.

The man leveled his gaze with her. Her eyes were misty and her lips were slightly parted. Her hair scattered over the red satin was almost arranged in a halo giving her an angelic appearance.

-Even if God himself offered me the kingdom of heaven, I would not be able to refuse you, my beautiful Y/n - he replied, tearing the leather pants he wore.

The witch let out a loud, uncontrollable moan when she finally felt him inside her, filling her, warming her body like a fire , which instead of burning gave her nothing but pleasure. Their sweat quickly turned into one as he moved inside her and as their naked and bloody bodies rubbed against each other creating the smell of sex that was so intoxicating, the two lovers couldn't pull away from each other. His mouth practically devoured those of the mortal woman, pulling away only to breathe after their heavy, wet and hot caresses. As Aemond began to pound into her harder, deeper and faster, the young woman's legs involuntarily began to shake, betraying how close to the end she was , and her hands, as if having a mind of their own, went to his back, driving her nails into his milky skin.

They were unappeased , passionate and almost brutal in their movements , making their act a sweet torture that went on and on , never stoping. Not even as night turned into day , and day turned into night again. They remained in each other's embrace , becoming more and more addicted to each other.

𝓡𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷 𝔁 𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓭

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷 𝓲

Trigger warnings: childbirth, death, miscarriage, I think there is more but I can’t think of it.

Princess Rhaelle Targaryen came into the world on a dark night. Being the eldest gave Rhaelle more responsibility than her little sister and she was glad to take the weight of the crown from her sister.

Maester Gaellis wrote "princess Rhaelle took the role of a mother not only for her younger sister Rhaenyra but for her half siblings, prince Aegon, Aemond, Daeron and princess Helaena. The young princess loved her siblings all the same. Many believe it was the reason why she ascended to the Iron Throne without a fight or doubt" princess Rhaelle was what a queen should be and a great queen she was.

Queen Aemma had many still borns, miscarriages and babes who didn't make it pass the cradle. Only princess Rhaelle and princess Rhaenyra made it to adulthood. Princess Rhaelle lost her mother when she was only ten and three, leaving behind Rhaelle and her new born sister Rhaenyra as the only survivor that day.

Rhaelle knew she would never be a son. No king wanted their first born child to be a girl. A son was always what it was preferred and although her father loved her she would never be the son he needed. The son he had always wanted and the son he killed her mother for. King Viserys made a choice. He decided to name his eldest child his new heir after Daemon had spoken ill of Rhaenyra's twin, prince Baelon.

A few months after, her father the king married Alicent Hightower. Alicent's father had been hand of the king for a few years now and was serving under King Viserys' reign. Alicent and Rhaelle had been friends since both were young and were once closed friends. Rhaelle once believed she loved Alicent. Perhaps a part of her did as the two were each others first kiss and they never went anywhere without each other but after Alicent married her father nothing was ever the same and sadly it would never be the same.

Princess Rhaelle was set to marry soon as well. Laenor, her dearest cousin was soon to be her beloved husband. Laenor was a man with different taste than most men. One of the many things Laenor and Rhaella shared were their similar taste in men. While she married him knowing that perhaps they could never have children together it was a risk she was willing to take. But, to her and Laenor's surprise, she fell pregnant after their first attempt with a little help from Laenor's lover of course it worked.

Just a year after they married they welcomed twin sons into the world. Prince Monterys and prince Aethan Velaryon. Both boys were the epitome of Targaryen and Velaryon men. The boys grew up along side their aunt slash sister Rhaenyra. A year after they were born, their uncle, Prince Aegon was born to their grandfather king Viserys and his wife Queen Alicent.

Alicent had done her duty, perfectly. Princess Rhaelle stayed in King's Landing after much convincing on Laena's part. There were many rumors about Princess Rhaelle, Lady Laena and Prince Daemon. Maester Gaellis wrote: "princess Rhaelle found comfort in her good sister, the lady Laena Velaryon. Many said she replaced her friendship with Alicent with lady Laena's friendship" Laena had married her uncle Daemon and just as they were rumors about Rhaelle and Laena they were rumors about Rhaelle and her uncle Daemon.

Princess Rhaelle welcomed a son into the world nearly two years after her first born sons. Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Many said he resemble princess Rhaenys with his dark brown locks and a few strips of white. Those strips of white were the only reason nobody could say they were bastards as princess Rhaenys had the same strips. Princess Rhaelle was always seen with Lady Laena who two years later after Jace gave birth to her twin daughters Baela and Rhaena. And just two moons after them Prince Lucerys was born to Princess Rhaelle and Laenor Velaryon.

Prince Lucerys was said to Princess Rhaelle's favorite son. Although she said she never had favorites the boy was soft, kind and gentle like his mother had once been. Despite Alicent's protests Princess Rhaelle spent a lot of time with her brothers and sister. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron who was born a few days before Lucerys. Alicent could say no more about her "grandsons" appearance since her youngest and last son had her traits and not those of a Targaryen.

Alicent's children grew up loving their half sisters. Some would even said the young children saw Princess Rhaelle as their mother as Prince Aegon had taken to call her mother, even in the presence of his own lady mother and father. Laenor and Princess Rhaelle tried for a daughter, when they thought it didn't work she tried with Daemon who was her lover much like Laena was as well. The princess fell pregnant but he did not know who the father was. A few months later two baby girls were born. Princess Visenya looked like a Targaryen through and through. She was Daemon's daughter. Princess Alyssa was a Velaryon through and through. She was Laenor's daughter. Laenor loved both girls all the same as did Daemon.

Minutes after giving birth. Lady Elinda Massey entered the room where the princess had given birth. Elinda had been with Rhaelle for as long as she could remember. She trusted her with her life, she was her most trusted and loyal lady in waiting. "I'm sorry, Princess" she said with a sad tone. "The Queen has requested that the child be brought to her. Immediately" she said while looking at the floor. Rhaelle's smile quickly disappeared. "Why?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

Daemon, who was there grabbed his sword and headed to the the throne room where he knew the queen was alongside the king. Laenor, Corlys, and Rhaenys walking behind him. The doors opened and Daemon walked in like a man on a mission. He walked straight to the Queen. The King's guard held him back and they were struggling. "You make a demand like that again and I swear I will have your head and your father’s too!" he threatened.

The king and his hand and the people there were confused. "What is the meaning of this?!" Viserys asked. "This.. tyrant of a woman has ordered for Rhaelle's child to be brought to her minutes after being born" Rhaenys reply. "Rhaelle is the future queen and has just given birth. What type of request is that?" Corlys asked. "A woman of house Velaryon will not be treated in such way" Laenor said. The king and the people looked at the queen. "You dare! Rhaelle has just given birth and your order her to handle her new born child to you?!" he yelled making Alicent flinch. "Leave! You will be dealt with after I visit my daughter" she nodded and left.

Daemon watched as Alicent and her father walked off. He had a plan. He would make sure Rhaelle never went through that again. Never. Laenor would make sure of that as well.

(Not Edited) part two coming soon!

Yan!Parents Alicent and Viserys Headcannons (Platonic)

(Forgive me for any mistakes this is my first time)

Mention of death, suicide, obsessive, possessive behavior, manipulation, unhealthy father, force pregnancy, and not good writing.

Pairing: Platonic Alicent and Viserys × female reader

To be honest Alicent was looking forward to the arrival of her first child well Viserys was excited. She was still young to have a child but hoped it was a boy for Viserys duty.

When she first gave birth to you and hold you...she felt like she was at the end of the world. Childbirth hurted is what she always said but when she get to see you put in her arms she couldn't help to smile in joy.

Viserys wasn't mad that she gave birth to a girl but he was happy to hold you in his arms. He looked up at your lilac eyes, a combination of his white hair and Alicent brown hair he just couldn't help to cry a bit.

They both swear to themselves to always protect you and your innocence. They turn extremely protective when you grown up close to your marriagable age. Alicent wouldn't let nobody have you. You are HER child and nobody is going to take you away from her even if she have to manipulate you in the process.

Viserys wouldn't let NOBODY Absolute NOBODY disrespect you not even Rhaenrya or any of his family. He feels like he own you, like he's entitle to you since of his inner dragon (per Viserys saying). He would get rid of anybody that do wrong to you, he would even have his guards kill someone if you demand it.

Alicent wants to do as she says. She wants to control you (kinda like how her father did) and not really follow in her footsteps but for you to have a better life then her. She would go a little mad if you get her depending on how mildly it is. If it's a paper cut you'll get caring Alicent if you are seriously injured then you get crazy mad Alicent.

If you want any suitors then they would go through serious questions about them and their house and many other things. If you really like your suitor then they let you marry them only on one rule and that's to kill him if he hurt you in any way.

They would go thick and thin to do anything for you and I mean EVERYTHING. You want this? You can have it! You would get spoiled anytime they can get stuff. Now your suitor on the other hand....

They are just like your mother and father. Another hand to deal with but maybe a less crazy one. Oop nevermind he tried to kill Aegon and Aemond because they was kinda plotting on stealing you away.

He did forcefully get you pregnant and when he heard he was SO happy about it....a little. His plan kinda backfire now you are just giving your baby more time then giving him time with you.

Jealous Boi until you actually give him time in which they just melt in your hand.

Your parents on the other way is happy to have a grandchild despite Alicent having Aegon marry our Helaena and having children. Alicent and Helaena like to make things for them and Viserys just loves playing toys with them. Your brothers are jealous that they don't have their sister love anymore.

When the war started Alicent hid you away and wanted to protect you even if it cost her life. She would do anything to make sure you're safe.

Yandere house of the dragon x Hybrid Dragon reader.

Yandere house of the dragon x female reader.

Part two here.

Plot/notes: Most of the characters will be platonic, war with the characters will take place but rhaenrya will be queen but most of the things that happen in the show will not take place. Also in this jace is only one year younger then the reader and aemond. The only mention of the readers appearance are: Golden eyes, red scales. All the adults are platonic but there will be romantic interests, this is just some headcanons, drabbles about how it would go down.

Also would like to give credit to @missglaskin because their whole page gives me inspiration! So go read everything you can and give them a follow! You can ask about different outcomes and share ideas.

This story will continue

I have not read the books so this might not be accurate, but I’m just here to share my thoughts.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, blood, reader in pain, misspelling, idk what to say.

The first time the king Viserys laid eyes upon you it was like the sevens holy voices could be heard. He could recall a distant dream of his when he saw your face, the little face that would mean a great deal to him and the realm. But quickly anger struck his chest when he realized what was happening.

A child not even the age of two with dirt covering its face while being locked behind a cell like some rabid beast, the harden cradled you cried wasn’t comfortable looking, nor was the way it felt. You had be found by a village on their daily fishing hunt, being not a day over one to be exact. Small patches of scales could be seen on your arms.

When your teary eyes looked at him, he knew he had be blessed.

The queen stood beside him and the sting of guilt and pity hit her, how could someone keep a baby locked in a cage. She felt like it was her own kin, her son aemond being of the same age.

 Viserys yelled at the person who found you and made them open the cell, taking you in his arm and rocking you back and forth. Your cries seemed to lessen at his comfort. He claimed to take you in as his own, saying it was your birth right since you had blood of a dragon. Alicent was the second to hold you, the way you tiny finger held onto hers she knew she was the mother you needed- She was your mother.

Leaving the village behind in ashes and blood behind them, calling them traders and savages for locking you up. No one was ever going to harm you again. 

The next to welcome you into the family was Rheanrya and Laenor.

Rheanra quickly took you into her arms from the queen who didn’t want to let you go, but Viserys said it was good for you to meet your sister. She bounce you in her arms, saying how beautiful you were with your golden eyes and red small scales. She walked over to Leanor and he was smitten by you, knowing in his heart that we would protect you. Alicent watched them closely with rage, like you were something that was going to be taken away from her. But she was not going to lose you.

“I think she can sense the baby.” Rheanrya pointed out how you seemed to touch her belly and snuggle close to it. “It seems so.” Viserys agreed with delight at you being so welcoming, but Alicent just stayed silent at how you giggled so sweetly in rheanrya arms, she wanted to pull you away.

The next you meet was Aegon, he wasn’t as happy about the news of a new sister but he was only little. But as soon as he saw you his eyes light up and he reached out to you, he would even show you his small toys.

Then there was Helaena, still being young she would only watch you curiously, touch your scales and babbling words no one could understand. But she was happy to be around you, just your present calms her down.

Being the same age as aemond made it hard for anything to happen, but he was already showing signs of obsession. He constantly has to be in the same room as you, if you are taken out of the room he will cry at the sight. He is at ease in your presence just as his sister, but everyone suspects he sees you as his twin.

Alicent raised you like her own and so did Viserys , she was over joyed how quickly the children saw you as one of their own. She always worried about the future with you at her side, no one knew what your species could do. So she was over protective.

Otto was a little hard to come around. The king calling you his blood child was bad enough as it is, but burning down a whole village was idiotic. He wouldn’t meet you no matter how much his own daughter begged, he saw you as a plague. One that could pull their targets in with their presence and then kill them when giving a chance.

But one night as Otto came to say goodnight to Helaena his eyes meet yours, golden eyes that looked like dragons. His mind clouded with the screaming saying to protect you at all cost. That’s when he became your grandfather, you and helaena being his favorite. He loves you and would do anything for you.

After three years.

You grew to love little jace. He was a year younger then you, him three and you four. He clings to you with every step and always with you anytime he can be, this making everyone else jealous.

Aegon was mischievous, he liked to leave anytime he could and pull pranks on everyone. He was your big brother and constantly taking you with him, he was fun to be around. He let you join in on his pranks, sneaking cakes for you and anything to make you smile.

Helaena like you to sit with her while she told you about insects, you always asked her about them which made her so happy. You even went out of your way to catch them for her. She loves you. She would have matching dresses, having her hair match yours, also you were the only one she wanted to touch. You could hug her and she’d smile, or she would hold your hand and walk around.

When Lucerys was born you were one of the first people to be welcomed into the room. You waited outside rhaenryas room while she gave birth and it frightened you but you got over it quickly at seeing the little baby. You loved him and always asked to see him at any hour, or hold him while you sat down. He loves being in your company and always stared at you with curious eyes. He always held your finger in his little hands just like you did when you were at that age. You and his mother were the ones he cried for. 

As aemond grew by your side, he thought of you has his twin sister. Despite having different features, hair and looking nothing alike. Maybe he didn’t have a dragon, but he had you. You had scales like one, eyes to so you were his dragon in his eyes. He believed that you were sent down to him, a blessing from the gods just for him. He was also every protective, he would follow you and hold your hand. He hated jace for bullying him and that he you away from him at times, he was jealous of anyone that wasn’t his mother or other sister.

The day had come where Daemon Targaryen and his wife Lady Laena and their children had come to visit. This was the first time they had been able to meet you and daemon took interest as soon as he heard about you four years ago.

Daemon did fell a bit shocked when he hears his brother taken a daughter who had no Royal blood or his own, or even his wife’s. Not to mention no one knows who your real parents are. But when he found out you had features of a dragon his interest was always lingering in his mind.

The first time Daemon saw you his body was taking over by possessiveness, he saw you as his blood. He wished he had gotten to you before his brother and Alicent did but he will just have to deal with it…For the time being. Everyone kept a eye on him as he picked up up and refused to leave your side, being the cool uncle he is he would tell you stories and take you to meet his dragon.

It has been two years since then. And now it being a month since you had turned six.

It was a beautiful day, the perfect temperature and the light breeze shaking the leaves on the trees. The only thing stopping this from being a peaceful day at court was the high pitched screams mixed with screech’s of a dragon. The maids and knights rushed to alert the king of what they had find in the gardens.

Your small frame crouched down as the tears and cries only grew louder, the skin on your back began to move underneath and blood seeped through your dress. The maids tried to get close to you but you moved back not wanting anyone but your family. What was strange was not only your cries, but the dragons in the pit could be heard. You screamed for everyone- Anyone that would come for you, you just wanted the pain to stop. It was the most pain you had felt in the small years you have been alive, you had wondered if this was the pain you had been told about from every woman.

“Where is she?” You heard your father scream as he came around the corner of the rose path, Alicent rushing quickly behind him in panic. They stop immediately at what they saw. You gripped onto your dress as you looked at them with a wet face. Behind you stood a set of red and golden wings, small set of dragon wings fit for a baby dragon. “Y/n.” Alicent quickly moved towards you seeing the pain you had went through and the blood. She took you in her arms carefully not to hurt you anymore while you cling onto her.

“My sweet girl,” Viserys was filed with pride and praised you for being so strong, he wasn’t looking at it as you were in pain but that you had gained something wonderful, “She will be a fine warrior.” He took you away from alicent and showed most of everyone that past just how wonderful your wings were. Alicent had to beg him to take you to a master seeing you still flinch at the pain but tried to hide it for Viserys.

As you had calm down and patched up, you learned how to love your wings and retreat them back into your skin. It was painful but it felt better to sit down without them. As you laid in alicents lap the next person to walk in was rhaenrya.

You smiled and hugged her while being happy they both were there with you but they didn’t see it like that. The glares Alicent sent rhaenrya was threatening but she gave it back. “She needs to be careful.” Alicent stated. “I agree but she also needs to learn how to control it, best do that with the help of me.” They didn’t want to fight in front of you but it was all said in their eyes, no words.

A few days after your recovery the children were aloud to see you but they couldn’t touch yours back. Both mothers stand in the room for it just to be safe, Alicent didn’t trust rhaenryas kids around hers.

Luke was the most excited one, jumping up and down while asking questions. He would praise you for it saying just how awesome you would be when you grew, he did beg you to show him your wings but he was shot down by his mother.

Jace held your hand and told you how much he missed you in the time away, also sharing his thoughts of how much he grew sad hearing you where hurt. He would also tell you how cool thought it was that you had wings, saying he can’t wait till you show him.

Aegon was making a joke about it but in a nice way. Saying how when you grew older you could probably kill people with them and become a great warrior. He did like the thought of having you around to protect him and be at his side- When no one else was there for him, you would be.

Helaena was calm by your side and told you everything she saw of your scales and wings and related them to insects. She didn’t yell or beg to see them but you could see the tint in her eyes of wonder at what she imagined your wings would look like

The twin girls Baela and Rhaena, comforted you. Knowing how much pain you were in was sad and the girls cried when they first found out, being on the younger side they saw you as a older sister. They loved you so much, they brought you gifts and offered to do anything you wanted to do for the next month.

Aemond saw this more of a sign at just how amazing you truly are. The dragon that was sent to him in his time of need when he had no dragon to claim. His twin flame, his to protect. He would ask you if you were in any pain and holds the hand jace was not and ask if he could see them once you could. The praise he gave you was overwhelming to say the least but he was also worried about if your body could handle it. He blamed himself for not being with you when they came out. But he was here now and forever…

Otto spent time with you when you where recovering, reading you some stories and made sure to make you smile at least once. He would tell you how much you are worth of your abilities and everything. He knew that he could now use you on his side when you grew older and he will help guide you on a good path.

Daemon was the first to suggest they fly across the sea to see if they can find someone to train you. He also suggested that you start training as soon as you recovered but Alicent didn’t want you to, something rhaenrya agreed on saying you should wait until they know more.

And as time went on your powers grew along with you, not knowing much was a faint memory. But war was on the horizon and with you was the center piece.

Their Angel. Yan!HOTD x Reader

I've been having so many thoughts about yandere house of the dragon x reader, how the 3 big houses (Targaryen, Velaryon & Hightower) would fight for the darlings' affection. Platonic, Familial or romantic. I feel like they would, of course, all fight over what colours you would wear, what house you represent until a very annoyed and exhausted council member suggested white.

"like an angel," Viserys adds, it was said that the gods had sent you down to bless them so dressing you in white seemed the best option... but that didn't stop them from gifting you jewellery that had the colours of their house.

The Hightower jewellery had the most expensive Jade and Emerald on top of gold, these pieces can range from delicate rings to big statement necklaces that encompass your neck. Alicent prefers to give you these gifts in person, alone, perhaps in her or your chambers. Presenting you with the beautifully engraved box as she opens it, showing you a new necklace with a beautiful dark green emerald. Otto's gifts never cease to awe you in how quiet that man is in his actions, a small indiscreet box upon your pillow when you ready for bed. Inside lays a note, upon which Otto describes the moment he found this beautiful ring and knew he must get it for you, the handwriting almost as beautiful as the peridot ring you now proudly wear on your pinkie.

The Targaryen jewellery is almost always extravagant, having connections to get you the best out of everything. Viserys gifts you capes, crowns and veils but unlike the others, he almost always keeps them in white, unless they have jewels. His favourite thing to see you in is crown veils, the jewellery hanging down and framing your face makes you seem like you stepped down from heaven's gate. When Aemma was still around, she gifted you rings and earrings, she wasn't able to give you much before she passed in childbirth. So you hold these gifts quite dearly to your heart, always sporting the dark ruby red ring on your thumb, twisting it when you get nervous. Rhaenrya, oh dear Rhaenrya, she wanted everyone to know that you belong to the Targaryens. To the Blood of The Dragons, her first gift to you was a cloak clasp that show two dragons on each side, her second gift was a crystal bracelet that had a chain connecting to a ring, it was a simple design but by the gods it made you feel exquisite. There was one gift that set the nail in the coffin, it was a gift from Rhaenrya and Aemma, a dragon that wrapped around your neck. Signifying the hold that House Targaryen has on you.

The Velaryon jewellery is often pearls or other sea gemstones as they sit on driftmark and have a hand over the trading routes, Rhaenys upon her second meeting of you, gifting you a pearl ring slipping upon your finger herself. Corlys gifted you a relic that was been with the Veleryons for ages on your first birthday with them, the beautiful necklace made with blue topaz, moonstones and blue chalcedony, wrapped beautifully with Valeryon silver. Vaemond... never was quite as fond as you as his brother and sister-in-law were, you were no Targaryen or Velaryon but for small moments he forgot that and adored your sweet smile.

I would love to draw male and female outfits of what this au's darling would look like, i can also do a part two of the other things the other characters would give you as i excluded a lot as to not make this any longer than it is. Should i make a fic with this idea? pls send me an ask if you're interested in this au

Aqua Regia

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem! Reader

Tw: HOTD content. MDNI

[Chapter 1] Chapter 2 Chapter 3

⊹ ࣪ ˖﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ｡° ⚔︎｡°⊹ ࣪ ˖

Summary: Jacaerys Velaryon admired you even before he met you. Sometimes, when he and the other Targaryen kids get scolded, your name would pop up for comparison. Though perhaps there is some truth to the servant gossips about you being secretly cruel beneath your perfection. His heart soared when you first met, then fell splat into the ocean of obscurity that is you, when you proceeded to ignore him whenever there were no adults around to prompt you back into your facade.

Jacaerys Velaryon often joined in on teasing Aemond. Although of indisputable lineage Aemond was, in everyone's eyes, inferior for not having a dragon of his own, at least only in that aspect. Whispers of him being outdone even by the Strong bastards are not as hushed as they ought to be. Aemond would hear them, as would Jacaerys. Jace wanted to believe that he was not a bastard. He had a dragon, unlike his silver haired half-nephew Aemond (who is also older than him). But evidences showed otherwise. Scrutinizing looks, cruel jibes, and not-so-hushed whispers loomed over him larger than any dragon. If he was to name this feeling, he'd name it after Balerion, The Black Dread.

He liked to believe that he teased his dragonless nephew out of a sense of superiority, it sounded better than what he denies even in himself. He wanted to belong. Simple as that. He was not superior in any way, in fact if it weren't for his grandsire's blind devotion towards his only daughter from his first queen, they'd all be exiled, if not dead.

He'd joined Aegon in his teasing, glad whenever he wasn't on the receiving end as he usually is, walked with Helaena in the gardens, and had a silent truce in the library with Aemond as they would read on the same table at times. He liked to think that Aemond understood, that they were both outsiders in their own home. But they never really had that kind of conversation.

Only one of the Targaryen-Hightower siblings confused him so.

You were, to everyone, the most enigmatic. Your twin Helaena was dreamy and odd, but not threatening in any way. Your other siblings were easily predictable. One knows exactly what Aegon would pick up first on the dinner table, and how he treats the women around him. Everyone knows Helaena did not do well in social situations, preferring to be left alone with her books or with the company of her tiny many-legged friends. Aemond, who wanted to be seen as mysterious, was most predictable. One knows exactly how he would react with the many different ways to prod anger out of him.

Aegon did not care for Jacaerys nor his brothers, too busy guzzling wine and pinching servant girls. Helaena certainly did not mind them, Aemond avoided them, while the adults were plainly disgusted by their existence. You, Jacaerys decided, was a pretender. Ignoring Jacaerys even when your brothers would notice him when they were in a cordial mood but acting like you were intimate friends when there are adults watching.

Jacaerys remembers vividly, the first time he met you.

They were busy hacking at training dummies. Aegon would only swing his sword in a half-assed manner. Aemond trained hard enough for both of them, anyway. You’d just arrived from Oldtown after receiving your youngest brother Daeron who was sent to be cupbearer to some Hightower Lord and train for his knighthood, and also replace you. No one at this time knows why you chose not to stay at Oldtown, especially when multiple sources say that the Hightowers adored you. ‘A prime example of purity, modesty and piety. The Mother and The Maiden in human form.’ they’d say.

“She probably got bored of being worshipped.” Aemond once said as a jest, although the apparent envy laced thickly in his voice suggested to Jacaerys that he was not in a jesting mood at all. Servants say, you were secretly cruel beneath the perfect exterior of your facade, while others see this as farce. You were only a child, not a masterful, conniving, opportunist. It is said that you were bound to command respect and adoration. Elder twin sister of Helaena, just as beautiful and gentle, but with a firmness and coldness no one would want to receive from you. But not cruel, no, you were just a little girl after all, your mother’s daughter.

You welcomed your brothers in an embrace the moment you stepped out of the carriage. Jacaerys had never seen you before as he was born the same year as Daeron and by then, you were already sent to Oldtown. He did not know how to act. Should he greet you? Welcome you back home? Would it be impertinent of him, seeing that he was practically a stranger to you? What IF you knew him, knew him as the bastard who was stealing your elder brother’s birthright as the eldest son of the king? He expected you to turn your towards him with a sneer, maybe even a jab at his illegitimacy. ‘So this is the bastard I keep hearing about.’ He could almost hear you say.

He did not expect you to engulf him in a hug as well. “No one ever told me my nephew's an adorable one.” You laughed. He found you agreeable, warm. You ruffled his hair into a mess, commenting about how soft it was, a stark contrast with your own brothers greasy hair. He watched as your eyes flitted over to the balcony overlooking the training yard. You raise your hand to greet the king, then pushed apart Aegon and Aemond who were crowding you as you make your way to finally see your father up close.

Jacaerys was delighted at the prospect of befriending you. You were exactly as described. Beaming like a saint, bright and kind. Your voice was soothing, eyes the deepest shade of violet, silver and gold hair almost reaching the back of your knees.

Until he received from you not the warmth of building friendship, but complete disregard.

He went up to you in the library, no one else was around save you and him. He had his favorite book in his arms, eyes wide and looking up at you, as he asked if he could read by your side. He only wanted to spend time with you, maybe get to know you better. Mostly to hear your gentle voice coo at him again as you did in the training yard. But you did none of these things. You only looked down at him and gestured at a seat. He ignored the change of attitude at first, then he could not help but let his smile waver as you stood up the moment he set himself down comfortably beside you. You did not even look back as you left.

You weren’t completely ignoring his existence, nor were you pretending that you were not able to perceive him like your other siblings would often do until they got bored. You were simply tolerating him. He was confused. Had he done something to earn your scorn? Did your brothers convince you that he wasn't worth your time?

He could do nothing but watch in the distance as you laughed along with your brothers, roamed the garden with Helaena, and rode your dragon, your absurdly long hair dancing in the wind. The way you walked entranced him. Graceful but powerful, confident. When you talk, you needn't raise your voice for people to listen to you. You were almost always composed. The minutest movements controlled, facial expressions practiced. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that you were being trained to be queen. But he suspected no man here would ever approve of the queen carrying around a blade now would they?

Jacaerys was confused when you chose to ignore him in the library, then he was absolutely livid when you acted as if you've done no such thing in front of his own mother. When you finally finished with your rounds in the castle, done catching up with old friends, you finally strutted up to Rhaenyra's chamber and knocked upon her door.

He was sitting on the floor, chin propped on the couch where his mother sat, with his younger brother Lucerys reclining with his head on Rhaenyra's lap. They all stood to greet the princess, and Jacaerys observed as his mother showered this two-faced Targaryen with praises and kisses, saying she was glad for her safe return home.

Lucerys, ignorant to the feelings of his brother, leapt at the chance to make friends with this newcomer and you were absolutely smitten. Or at least that's what you wanted them to think. You acted as if you had not left Jacaerys humiliated and alone in the library. At first, Jacaerys chalked it up to exhaustion, or maybe you just weren't in the best of moods. But it wasn't the only time you'd looked down at him, blankly taking in his bright expression only to douse him in cold indifference. Now you greeted him like you were great friends, hugged his mother as if you did not despise her own sons, and played with his younger brother as if you truly adored him, like you wouldn't just ignore him when no one was looking.

Jacaerys learned to dislike you. He disliked you more than he did your own brothers because they at least made it clear that they did not care for him, whereas you would take time out of your day to act sweetly towards him only to walk past him down the corridors as if you were strangers.

He disliked you but he did not hate you. How could he, when you had such a nice disposition. You trained hard with your sword, commissioned by the King's Hand himself, surprisingly. And you had a dragon so graceful and pale that you could see the web of fiery veins in its wings, rivaling Aegon's Sunfyre in terms of beauty.

He could not possibly hate you, especially when he realized (after nights of serious contemplation) that you did not owe him friendship. It was natural for you to dislike him for reasons he himself acknowledges. You weren't a two-faced schemer who delighted in humiliating him, you were simply doing your duty as princess, by being polite and not stirring trouble for the grown ups. You ignored him yes, but also never even mentioned his questionable parentage. He also took note of the fact that your brothers never even teased him about it when you were around.

⚔️ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ✩ ° ｡⋆ ⚔️⚔︎⚔︎⚔️ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ✩ ° ｡⋆ ⚔️

Jacaerys absolutely despised the situation he was in. Aegon was much taller, older and stronger than him, he could not possibly win. Ser Harwin said he could, and he did not want to disappoint him.

When he caught your eye as you descended from the stairs to watch, he wished for respite, not just for this gruelling session in training, but this life in general. He wished for the ground to just swallow him up whole.

In the second round, he lunged first, hoping to surprise Aegon to maybe make him stumble, but the older boy only kicked him to the ground, then continuously showered upon him a barrage of blows so hard it knocked the sword off his hand. He knew his arms would be hurting after this. Then tensions arise as Ser Harwin Strong pulled Aegon off of him and called Ser Criston Cole out for playing favourites, for neglecting the Princess Rhaenyra’s sons in their training. Words were thrown about. Jacaerys hardly knew how to react, he only pulled Lucerys aside as it became apparent that blows were about to be exchanged instead of words. You stood, hands clasped behind your back, eyebrow raised as you seemingly judged these grown men struggling to contain a single furious man. Jacaerys heard you snicker when Ser Harwin successfully landed a blow on Ser Criston, knocking him to the ground.

Both men were dismissed, Ser Criston to get his wounds looked at, and Ser Harwin by his own father. You looked up at where King Viserys sat, shaking his head. You sighed, hesitating, before you decided to approach your older brother.

“That was quite a spectacle, brother.” You did not need to turn around in order to know that Jacaerys was glaring at you. But when you did, you found his glare directed at the ground instead of you. You walk towards him and Lucerys, the younger one smiling up at you, while the older brother only looked confused. You stood beside him, bringing your hands to his head, then to your own. “We are…almost the same height. I’m only half a head taller. Spar with me.” The last part you directed at your own brother.

Aegon scoffed, the corner of his lip raised in amused incredulity. “What are you on about, sister?”

“Ser Triston Pole was right. You had the advantage of height. I, myself, am learning how to wield a sword. I’d like to see how well I’d do with a taller opponent.”

Aegon glanced at the Velaryon brothers, then at you. “Right. Why exactly are you even allowed to carry around a blade with you?”

“Why, are you afraid to be bested by a much shorter opponent? Someone almost as short as the Velaryon prince. Sure I’m a little bit taller, but I’m also a girl. That should lessen your…whatever is making you hesitate to do to me the same thing you willingly did to a member of your family."

Aegon let out a laugh, although it held no amusement now. “First of all.” He shook his head. “There is a lot to digest in everything you’ve just said.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t have problems regarding digestion if you drank less wine.”

Aegon bristled, a visible tightening in his jaw made Jacaerys nervous.

“You are absolutely right on one thing. You are a girl. And a girl has no business running around with a sword. Might cut yourself dear sister.”

You only rolled your eyes. “Queen Visenya herself used to run around with a sword. She even drew it once and slashed King Maegor across the cheek…to teach her brother a lesson.”

Aegon groaned, and pushed Aemond aside, although the boy wasn’t in his way at all. “You asked for this.” He said.

The fight made King Viserys lean towards the balcony. One might wonder why the King did not intervene and only watched as his beloved daughter took up a wooden sword against his eldest son, but one must note that the Princess might have already established a deal in order to be allowed a sword in the first place. One must also remember that it is the king's Hand, Otto Hightower himself that had a sword commissioned for the Princess, one she can wield with ease so that she could fight to defend herself. The Maiden of The Seven personified wielding a sword.

She was the one who did as Aegon had done to Jacaerys, and did not let up until Aegon was on the ground with his sword knocked out of his reach. It wasn’t a graceful fight. It included a lot of shoving, and shouting, with fiery words spat at each other. You got hit in the chin by the hilt of his wooden sword, it failed to knock you unconscious as Aegon had hoped but it did cause you to bite your tongue. You ignored the bleeding, although it unnerved you how easily he could’ve ended the fight in one blow. This only enraged you further, and the fight ended with Aegon’s defeat.

That night, you weren’t able to attend dinner, as Maesters fussed over your wound while Aegon gorged himself on your favorite food.

Back at their mother’s chambers, while waiting for their father Laenor Velaryon, Lucerys recounted what had happened on the yard that day. Jacaerys chose to keep silent, though he couldn’t help but speak up when Lucerys said something he did not agree with.

“She did it to see if she can fight someone taller than her, not to defend us or anything of the sort.”

Lucerys grimaced at him before turning to his mother. “He’s only mad because she prefers me over him.”

Jacaerys failed to suppress an absolutely offended look as his chin retracted, his eyes wide and almost bulging. “Excuse me?”

Lucerys only shrieked in glee at the bug-eyed look his brother gave him and so he did what he thought was best to do in such a situation and threw a couch pillow at Jacaerys.

Rhanyra chuckled at her sons lively energy as she grabbed Jacaerys before he could tackle Lucerys to the ground. She had been worried sick at what was bound to happen next, now that Ser Harwin Strong had snapped. Seeing her sons smile eased the heaviness in her chest.

“Honestly I’m not surprised she did that.” She simply said, more to herself than anything.

“What do you mean, mother?” Jacaerys asked.

Rhaenyra shifted, pulling at a part of her skirt that Jacaerys had sat on. “The Princess Enigmatic. She is called as such because no one ever knows what she is thinking, even what she likes, just her favorite food and even that may not even be true. At least that is what most people in the court say, even the servants.”

“I don’t understand. How can she be enigmatic? Everyone knows she is pious, devoted to The Seven. She rides her dragon a lot, she studies the histories and philosophy with disdain although she loves to read, and that she knows how to fight. That’s not so mysterious,” Jacaerys said .

Rhaneyra laughed. “She may not be a mystery to you, my dear. With such intensive knowledge about her.” Jacaerys clamped his mouth shut as his cheeks heated up.

“You see,” She continued. “Sometimes when people cannot or chooses not to understand someone, they see that person as the one at fault. The Princess is both a Hightower and a Targaryen. A dragon that people in her life have been trying to tame with the bonds of a religion she may not even truly believe in. She is called enigmatic because she adjusts herself according to the person she needs to please. And she’s learned in quite a short time how to wrap people around her fingers and how to balance the two sides of her heritage.”

She leaned close towards Jacaerys to whisper. “No one wants to say it aloud because doing so questions her devotion to The Seven, and Alicent Hightower will not have it. But you are right. People tend to exaggerate and in this case, they did so, too much to my liking. The Princess is not that much of a mystery nor does she try to pose as one. I would know. She spent more time with me than her own mother.” This she said with a bittersweet tone. “She is a wonderful girl who only wants the best for everyone, especially her twin. She is not enigmatic, she is loving.

Jacaerys looked down, deep in his thoughts, before nodding. “I understand.”

“I am glad my son chooses to observe for himself, rather than immediately believing what a person says about another.”

There was one mystery that Jacaerys wanted to be answered most. Why does she ignore him in private? His own formulated answers, although logical did not satisfy him because he cannot confirm them himself. And he did not want to ask his mother this one because it will surely make her think too much about things and might arrive at a conclusion that is far from truth. He nodded mentally at himself. Best not give his family more fuel to tease him, Lucerys was already unbearable and he won’t be able to take more without bursting into flames.

The next day, you still were not present for breakfast. Jacaerys wondered if your injuries were much more serious than he thought. For a moment, while pinching at his bread, breaking it apart and rolling it into tiny bits, he entertained the thought of visiting you. Perhaps, in the safety and privacy of your own quarters, he'd get to see the real you. He let his mind wander, daydreaming about how he'd go about asking you if he'd done anything to offend you, or if you truly were not interested in being friends with him, he'd apologize and tell you that he won't disturb you ever again. He glanced at his younger brother, Lucerys. Perhaps he could use him as an excuse to visit you. But then he won't be able to talk to you in private. He shook his head. He won't go. You were injured, he shouldn't disturb you from your rest.

For the first time that morning he raised his head, only to find that Aegon had been looking at him inquisitively. He felt his brows furrow before he could school his expression to that of indifference.

Aegon finally approached him the moment they reached a silent hall leading to where they kept the dragons. Dark stone walls seemed to be closing in, looming over him like Aegon, whose nose flared in anger, as he glared down at Jacaerys.

“Don't think you can be so smug just because of what happened yesterday.” He grabbed Jacaerys by the collar, forcing him to take a step back.

Lucerys, huffed, and without a word scampered off, running as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.

Aegon watched him go, one eyebrow raised as he snorted. “Some brother you have. What, no honor among bastards?”

Jacaerys pushed his hands off with a grunt. “Get off me!” He exclaimed.

Aegon only laughed before stepping back.

“I don't even know what you're talking about.” Jacaerys said.

“You're lucky I did not break your jaw yesterday. Though I wish I did…running around smiling like a cocky little cunt.”

“I'm not even doing anything.” Jacaerys all but shrieked.

Aegon leaned down on him, “Well, then why would my sister, of all people, humiliate me for you? To defend you?” His voice had risen at that last part, making Jacaerys flinch.

“She did no such thing. You heard her yourself, she did it because she wanted to see—”

“See if she could take on a bigger opponent, lies, fucking lies.” Aegon waving a hand furiously around, before running it through his hair.

“Me and my sister…we fight a lot. But only when she thinks I've done something wrong to Helaena, or when I said something ‘hurtful’ to Aemond, or disobeyed mother, or the Lord Hand. But you?” He chuckled. “She had no reason to start a fight over you. You deserved that beating! And it wasn't my fault you were weak. I hate it. I hate it when she looks at me with those eyes.” he'd started to rant.

“You're making things more complicated than they actually are. It was a coincidence.” Jacaerys said, almost in a pleading way, not wanting to receive a second beating.

Aegon paused from his spiel. Then, he turned towards Jacaerys once again. “She's mad at me because of you. I knew it, you've been following her around like a lost puppy, styling yourself a poor, innocent ‘little prince’ bullied for allegations about your parentage knowing her heart would be soft towards pathetic little cunts like you. I knew you'd try to latch on to her like the pest that you are. Leeching off of anyone who showed even a sliver of kindness to you.”

Aegon was screaming now, right at Jacaerys, the unmistakable stench of alcohol wafting to the younger's face, and in his fury, he shoved Jacaerys hard against the stone walls causing the younger to cry out.

“You knew how fond she was of your mother and thought to gain her affection for yourself, you thieving little shit.”

Aegon stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet. A torrent of curses spilled from his lips before stopping abruptly. You stood, hands behind your back, face filled with utter disgust. You'd pulled the older boy off of Jacaerys without him even realizing you were there. Just how much did you hear?

Lucerys peeked at Aegon from behind you, his hands clutching at your skirt. Aegon suppressed a grimace at the sight of you shielding those two bastards from him, your own brother.

“Sister,” he exclaimed after a moment, smiling sheepishly. “I was just—” he swallowed nervously. “Doing as you said.

“Is this how a prince apologizes to a person he wronged?”

Aegon blinked, lips twitching. “You know what?” He started. “You were there yesterday, what happened was hardly my fault.”

Your glare softened. “I wasn't only referring to what happened yesterday, Aegon. But you're right. I'm going to have to discuss the matter with Ser Crispy Cone. You and I will talk later, in private. Now go, mother is looking for you.”

Aegon keeps his eyes on you without a word, before leaving. Not even sparing a glance to the younger boy he was terrorizing only moments ago.

You set your attention on Lucerys with a smile. “Thank you, Luke. For doing as I asked. Now, will you please go ahead of us and inform the maester that Jacaerys might be late for today's lesson? Just tell him the prince is with me.”

“My pleasure, princess.” Lucerys answered, too enthusiastically in Jacaerys’ opinion.

The two of you waited in silence as Lucerys’ footsteps were far enough away to be inaudible.

“My prince, you must allow me to apologize for my brother's behavior. What he has done to you is not fair. I am not talking only about yesterday, but about all of the times he hurt you.”

Jacaerys kept his eyes on the ground. “It's fine.” He said, straining to even force those words from his lips.

You approach him, slowly. “If…if he bothers you again, just tell me.”

You almost flinch as he finally looks up at you, glaring.

“Why are you still here?” He asks.

You knew why he asked such a thing, but you kept silent, sensing that he had more to say.

“No one is looking, Princess. Don't waste your time pretending to be cordial with me. So why, if I may ask, is the princess suddenly interested in my own affairs?”

You shook your head. “I am not ‘suddenly’ interested, I—” You caught yourself. You looked away, hesitating.

“It is understandable for you to hold contempt over me.” You said. “I've deliberately played with your feelings. I knew you wanted to be friends with me, at first. I couldn't help it, you see. Watching you become sullen everytime you are rejected is quite entertaining.”

Jacaerys took a deep breath, feeling the air he breathed fill his lungs, hoping the pressure would dull the ache in his chest as you smiled down at him. You were a sadist, he thought.

“But, really. I did it for you.”

He frowned, before giving you an incredulous look. Whatever excuse you would conjure to justify your actions, he was determined to shoot down.

“To openly express my fondness for my nephews will only give my brothers more reason to make your life a living hell. I had to ignore you and only acknowledge your presence when needed. Look at how my brother reacted when I defended you, for the first time, might I add.”

“Do not make it seem like you had no choice, you said so yourself that you found amusement in rejecting me, humiliating me.”

You paused as you listened, noticing his voice become heavy the more he bared to you with his feelings and thoughts, the direct consequences of your actions.

“What else could I have done but indulge my ego, seeing someone desire my friendship so desperately.”

“I was not desperate—”

“Like I said, prince. Indulgence. You'd be surprised at how often I decide to convince myself that I feel a certain way just to not feel disappointment at my own actions. I hurt you on purpose and you have no idea what your visible disappointment does to me. No idea that every time I have to keep myself from spoiling you with gifts and affection I die inside. And I have never, ever wanted to keep someone looking up to me as you do. Your family, I value. The way you see me, I wanted to keep pristine. I hold your whole family in high regard.” You paused, catching your breath and willing yourself to keep your voice level.

“I received so many ravens, read so many instances that my brothers gleefully reported to me, informing me of every cruel thing they did, and said to you. And when I arrived, you were nothing but a sweet, little thing. So I did my best to educate my brothers. Mother says it is not my duty to stop them from treating you and your brother the way they do but this isn't about duty. This is about family.”

You leaned down to his level to look at him straight in the eye and you knew he wanted to understand you.

“Now I know that it was a waste of effort. I should not have pretended to be indifferent when I was anything but. I will no longer play pretend with my brothers, and you. If you will let me. I am truly sorry, for treating you as I did. I was eager to be friends with you, just as I am friends with your mother. But my love for the princess Rhaenyra is…easily explained. She taught me everything I know, spent more time with me than my own mother. But to be friends with you—”

“With bastards, you mean.” Jacaerys cuts her off before he could stop himself, his emotions had loosened his tongue. A mistake one cannot truly blame a child for, even if his upbringing should have trained him in the art of rhetorics.”Allegedly,” he stammered.

“With the heirs that pushed my own brothers down the line of succession.” You clarified. Then with a shrug you added. “I care not about who gets to sit on the iron throne. I’ve no desire to worry needlessly about things I cannot control. But I still care for the people I love and I will protect them as best I can. I wish everyone cared less about it. Especially my family. My mother is convinced that Rhaenyra would immediately put us all to the sword without asking us to bend the knee to be spared. Makes me wonder if they ever were friends. But I digress.”

You paused, scanning Jacaerys’ face.

“Evidently, you are a smart boy. You see, my brothers need not be protective of Helaena, she’s rarely interested in anything other than books and bugs. They need not be protective of me either, I saw to that myself, but I know them. They’d jump at any chance to pummel you to the ground. Aegon literally nearly pummeled me to the ground when I confronted him about what he’d done to you. Granted, I all but asked for it.”

“What happened yesterday, I do not understand why you did such a thing, what point you were trying to make. Did you really just want to see how you’d do with a bigger opponent?”

You smiled as you leaned back. “Like I said back then, I wanted to teach him a lesson. I did not find it necessary for him to be so harsh to you. I mostly blame Cone, even though that may be a bit foolish of me, I still do. I'll have a talk with that man. You know, I only knew him for a couple of days and I already know he’s good at riling people up, shoving sticks up their arses so he wouldn’t be alone in being a bitter, bitter man.”

Jacaerys let out a burst of giggles, before clasping a hand on his mouth to muffle it. You laughed then, realizing that you spoke too freely.

“Forgive me, little prince. I should not have spoken so bluntly.”

“I think that was more than just blunt.” He whispered.

“Well, I won’t get in trouble if you tell no one.”

Jacaerys nodded. His earlier apprehensions vanished into thin air. “I, too, find Ser Criston Cole foul.”

You shook your head, giggling. “He is fetid, reeking of rotten self-righteousness.”

He pushed himself off the wall now, no longer shrinking into himself, eyes bright in mischief. “He is a repulsive git, a snake and a bad influence. He’s like a character in a novel where the author obviously set him up as this man that we’re supposed to root for, complete with a humble and tragic backstory, but instead just makes the readers pull out their hairs in frustration everytime he so much as opens his stinking mouth.”

You clutched at your belly, bursting into laughter. At that time. Both of you were thinking the same thing. ‘We should have done this sooner.’

A/N: this fic will have three chapters, each one will be abt the development of their relationship during three different phases. Currently writing the next part. There will be smut so MDNI!!!

Might make this a "fix it fic" to change stuff like betrothal stuff and the you-know-what which happened in the books. So no Sara Snow here, if anything, I doubt she exists but I do wish she does so Cregan's not so alone, you know? If she does exist then I hope the show treats her well instead of just a random hookup episode like Mushroom made of her.

Burning Love

Request: Yes or No

Summary: As the eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, Prince (Y/N) Targaryen has many responsibilities; most of which his darling sister hopes to share with him one day.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Targcest/Incest (Full-blooded Brother-Sister), Aemma lives!! and Alicent is not a childbride, mentions of stillbirths and miscarriages (Aemma's pregnancies)

Collecting HOTD oneshots like pokemon cards at this point

~~~

It was known that Targaryens had... questionable traditions. Traditions those with outsider perspective could only force themself to understand.

There was the act of putting a dragon egg in the cradle of a babe and hoping the egg would hatch sometime soon after to ensure the babe was bonded to a loyal protector they'd grow up alongside of; a tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen, eldest daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon. Targaryens were Dragonriders, bonded with the very beasts they used to conquer the lands and pull them all into one kingdom (with the exception of Dorne, of course). They cremated their dead, a custom from Old Valyria, often with the help of a dragon belonging to their closest kin. 

And of course, the most infamous and often looked down upon custom, wedding kin to kin. Another custom from Old Valyria that many followers of the Seven turned their cheek upon, for they found the act of wedding siblings to siblings and so forth (apart from cousin to cousin) a sin. Faithful followers could voice their complaints as much as they wished, but Targaryens were kings, queens, princes, and princesses. Nobody could or would stop them from keeping their bloodline pure if they so wished. 

Descending from a long, historic, and proud family, Rhaenyra grew up listening and learning the tales of those who'd come before her. Aegon the Conquer and his faithful sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya; the many rebellions and fighting brought on during the lives of King Aenys I and King Maegor the Cruel; The Old King Jaehaerys who'd chosen her father, Viserys, as heir over his own late heir's daughter, Rhaenys; and of course, the histories written during the early stages of her father's reign. 

Her beloved older brother had been two when King Jaehaerys named their father heir and three when their father ascended the throne whilst their beautiful mother, Aemma Arryn, carried her in the womb. The fourth person to ever hold little Rhaenyra in their arms had been her brother, closely supervised by their parents and the maester attending the birth, of course. With a healthy son and daughter, Viserys and Aemma hardly needed for more children, but they tried anyway. Their attempts never carried to term, however, and any little ones that did were either stillborn or died mere hours or days after birth. 

Still, Rhaenyra never needed for any more siblings. Her brother was enough, in her humble opinion. He cared for her diligently, especially during their younger years when he eagerly wished to play with her, even if it meant the two of them being gently scolded at the end of the day for dirting Rhaenyra's dresses with mud and dirt. (Y/N) treated her as his equal, even showing her how to use a wooden sword when he began his training and helping prepare her for dragon-riding on Syrax. His own mount hardly needed much training in the Dragonpit, for the mighty Vermithor's first rider had been the Old King.

As time passed, the siblings were forced apart more often than Rhaenyra enjoyed. She'd made up her mind long ago that she and (Y/N) would one day be wed, and she'd be his formidable sister-wife. Their parents merely chuckled about it when she'd first told them at the age of seven, her squeaky voice and flushed cheeks only drawing cooing from Aemma and sweet smiles from Viserys. The absence of her brother had been stark, his time taken up by training, studying, and spending time with the Small Council, but Alicent Hightower had quickly taken his spot as Rhaenyra's companion. 

However, in due time, (Y/N) became man-grown, and while Rhaenyra quickly followed with her flowering, as heir and prince, (Y/N) became the most eligible bachelor in all of Westeros. It took time for it to become apparent to Rhaenyra but her eyes and ears opened when she heard their parents speaking of it. Many families, highborn and lowborn, offered their daughters through letters or visits to Kings Landing. Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks, Brackens, Blackwoods, Tullys, and plenty more came forth. Even Otto Hightower made a passing comment about wedding Alicent to him. It was infuriating.

"In truth, I do not understand your irritation, Rhaenyra," Alicent spoke gently, her slender fingers working on embroidery. A flower she'd seen in the gardens, or something along those lines. Rhaenyra hadn't truly been paying attention to her dear friend. She'd been too focused on silently fuming at the sight of her brother showing one of the highborn ladies around the Red Keep. Every giggle, every blush, every bat of her eyelashes made Rhaenyra tick. "It's wonderful to watch one's brother fall in love."

"You wouldn't understand, Alicent." Rhaenyra sighed. "It is like the love King Jaeherys and the Good Queen Alysanne had."

Alicent faltered at her words, her head lifting to eye her friend with a small grimace. "You do remember our lessons, correct? King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had to wed in secret, for they knew that not even their mother approved in fear of another uprising from the Faith. Nobody has made a fuss over your parents since they are cousins, but who knows what may happen if you wed (Y/N)."

"(Y/N) is everything King Jaehaerys was, Alicent. He is beloved by the Realm." Rhaenyra reminded her friend with a small smile, pushing herself off the cushioned seats and smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. Her earrings swung slightly when she tilted her head slightly to the side, the ends of them brushing against her shoulders. Her eyes tracked (Y/N) as he lifted the lady's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before departing. "He will be a good king, and if I could prove it, I would be a good queen. His queen." Her feet began moving automatically. 

"Rhaenyra," The name tumbled out of Alicent's mouth, her hands fumbling with the items in hand. "Where are you going?"

Bunching up the skirt of her dress in her hands, Rhaenyra grinned over her shoulder and chuckled at the concerned look on Alicent's features that only grew at the sight of her mischievous glint. "To speak with my brother!" 

With a goal in mind, Rhaenyra entered the castle and followed the distant figure of her brother as he cut down hallways with long strides until he reached his bedchambers. Rhaenyra took a moment to herself to catch her breath and rake her fingers through her long silver locks before she approached the doors and nodded for the guards to open them. She stepped inside, a smile appearing across her lips when (Y/N) turned to look at her. 

"My favorite sister," (Y/N) cooed, taking a seat at his desk and unrolling a letter. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in return, clasping her hands together behind her back and taking small steps toward him. He skimmed the contents of the letter, his face giving away nothing of what it spoke of. "Is there something you require, Nyra, or are you suffering from boredom? I have plenty of lords and ladies who'd be happy to keep you busy." 

Rhaenyra scoffed quietly and (Y/N) gave a small grin. "I hear Father is urging you to find a wife."

"The Small Council is urging him to urge me, more like. They believe it is time to begin having children. Seeing as Father and Mother had great difficulty, they wish for me to have an heir by the time I ascend the throne to ensure there won't be issues later on." (Y/N) explained, coiling the letter back up and pulling out a blank paper. He dipped his quill in ink and began writing. "Otto has been... more friendly as of recently. He speaks incredibly highly of Lady Alicent." 

"You'd tell me if you were interested in someone, wouldn't you?" Rhaenyra reached over the desk to pluck the quill from his fingers, setting it aside and raising her brows at him. (Y/N) slumped back in his seat and laced his fingers over his midsection, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. Rhaenyra rounded the table and without thinking twice, she plopped down on his thigh. 

"Nyra,"

"You know as well as I do who you should wed, (Y/N). I know what a good queen should be, and I do not care about status or riches like the families of those ladies do. We have the blood of the dragon in our veins. Nobody would truly understand us." Rhaenyra spoke softly, her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she placed her palm over his cheek. His own hands unlaced, one moving to press against her back. 

"The Small Council-"

"Fuck the Small Council." Rhaenyra huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from her brother. "You are the prince, the heir. Whatever it is you choose, they must deal with it. It is their job to counsel, to offer their advice and opinions, not to dictate what you do. We could mount Syrax and Vermithor and fly elsewhere to wed in the customs of Old Valyria." 

A gentle sigh escaped (Y/N), and he leaned forward to press a delicate kiss to Rhaenyra's shoulder. The princess relaxed at the action, her hand moving past his cheek to the back of his head. (Y/N)'s lips curled up. "You are insufferable." He told her with a gentle laugh before leaning in to press their mouths together. He drew back too quickly for Rhaenyra's liking. "But a good ruler is a patient one, Nyra. If you wish for us to wed, or to lay together-" He brushed their lips together teasingly. "-you must wait. Father and Mother will be easy to convince." 

"Does it matter if we wait?" Rhaenyra tilted her head and batted her lashes coyly, the feigned innocence prompting (Y/N) to roll his eyes. She rose from his lap and dropped her hands to his, tugging on them until he stood up from the chair. She smiled widely, devilishly even, and slung her arms around his shoulders. "We will be wed, regardless. It will not matter." 

"I have things I must do, Nyra." (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "As I said, you must be patient. If you wish to speed things along, you should speak with Mother. She'll always be the key to winning Father over." He told her and planted a kiss on her temple before settling back down on the chair. 

"Will we be like that someday?" Rhaenyra asked softly, stepping out of the way so he could resume his letter. She toyed with the rings along her fingers, the thought of becoming one of those couples who genuinely cared for each other bringing a smile to herself. It was a desire all ladies had. While sons could marry whichever woman of age they desired, ladies had to hope the husbands their fathers or elder brothers chose were good men. She'd seen far too many times the faces of girls her age married and chained to men old enough to be their grandfathers. 

(Y/N) paused his writing and lifted his head to look at her, offering a reassuring smile. "Someday." He nodded. 

"I look forward to it, then."

❛ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 , benjicot blackwood ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , you were the apple of your family's eye a rare gem they would do anything to protect but sometimes even the purest doves crave something bloody

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , benjicot blackwood x fem! velaryon / strong! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , benji with the 10 seconds of screen time ateee tbh or wait is it not benji cuz I've heard some people say it's not so plz explain cuz I'm so confused lmfao !!

house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ you were a bastard. born from a night of passion shared between you mother and father. rhaenyra and daemon. but no one would ever call you a bastard. as you bore all the features of a targaryen unlike your siblings. white hair purple eyes. the seven kingdoms called you aemma reborn. as your striking resemblance to your late grand mother was uncanny.

⌗ growing up life was easy. your mother and grandsire doted on you. your siblings would go to the ends of the known world for you. ser harwin and leanor though not your real fathers stepped up and were there for you whenever you needed them. and though you had never met your real father your mother told you that he would love you.

⌗ truth be told there was nothing that daemon more than to be with you. his daughter. his oldest. but he settled for watching from afar for now. hearing about all of your achievements in pentos. how you had claimed the creeping death amaris. a dragon that had never been claimed and was rumored to be from balerion's final clutch. and it showed. as amaris was the largest dragon around. making vaghar look petite. and while daemon couldn't help but be the proudest man in the known world. part of him breathed a sigh of relief that his daughter didn't get hurt.

⌗ life was good. as you grew older tales of your beauty spread far and wide. from winterfell to dorne. you had suitors from all over flock to offer their hand. from dresses to castles. they offered it all. but were ultimately shut down by either your mother or grandsire. even the queen alicent tried offering the hand of one of her sons. but that idea fizzled out after diftmark. though it was still obvious that both of the queen's son's still bore a certain mixture of fondness and lust for you.

⌗ the deaths of harwin and laenor broke you. and after the the harrowing night of having to watch aemond lose an eye. you were exhausted. your eyes red and with no tears left to cry. you walked off to find your mother after having just finished packing. only to find her with an unfamiliar man. "mother?" you asked approaching with caution.

⌗ "my darling girl I want you to meet someone this is daemon your father" and for a moment your heart stopped as you looked at the man before you. you had dreamed for so long for the day that you would finally meet your father. and now it was here you didn't know what to do. but fear not as daemon took matters into his own hands. pulling you into his embrace which you gladly accepted. finally you left complete.

⌗ after that time seemed to fly by. your mother and father got married. your brother got betrothed to your half-sisters. and all of you lived happily on dragonstone together. with you and your siblings going for frequent dragon rides together. teaching them high valyrian. listen to your father's many stories he gained from his travels. and letting your mother braid your hair while the two of you giggled about the newest gossip.

⌗ though there was one topic she would never touch. and there were suitors. as princess rhaenyra had received hundreds if not thousands of offers for her daughter's hand. which she all denied. at one point there were so many that daemon restored to using a large chunk of them as kindle for the fire in their room. claiming "none of those vile pig's are good enough for my daughter" to which the heir agreed. the last thing she wanted was for her beloved daughter to be used by some lord as a broodmare.

⌗ but rhaenyra knew that she would have to wed her daughter off at some point. and that scared her. though her eldest was the blood of a dragon. you were gentle and soft. the apple of her eye and the thought of you being hurt. by a man nonetheless made her heart clench. and daemon agreed swearing he would rip any man. regardless of who. if they tried anything with their daughter. which was easy to say as the royal couple were under the impression their daughter's interest hadn't been caught by anyone. but oh how wrong they were.

⌗ see you had indeed had your eyes set on someone. who's name happened to be ben. the first time you saw him was at your name day tourney. where he jousted against a lannister. and won much to your joy. before going on to win the tournament. after asking for your favour. which you gladly gave. and you couldn't help but blush. as you couldn't deny he was attractive. even if he was covered in someone else's blood.

⌗ and so began the beautiful friendship between the two of you. as you went from secret love letters sent by ravens. to flying to see him whenever you could. truth is you were head over heels for him. just as he was for you. you were two half's that made a whole. twin flames if you will. and ben had made it clear that he would give you the world and that all you had to do was ask for it. a sentiment which you reverberated. the two of you had talked about a life together. married and with kids. now all you had to do was tell your parents.

⌗ but oh boy when you decided to tell them. was that an interesting conversation. your father nearly unsheathed dark sister. your mother nearly passed out in horror. your brothers were either confused or looking at benjicot like he was dragon food. and your sisters were smiling from ear to ear. but after they had all settled down you spoke. and the two of you made it very clear that you were madly in love. and after a few more threats from your father and brothers. a couple more happy tears and hugs from your mother and sisters. everyone had made peace with the fact and were overjoyed for the both of you.

⌗ and within the week news had spread to every corner of the seven kingdom's of your betrothal to the blackwood. and with was also said that the men of the kingdom's morned the loss of the chance to marry you by descending on brothels to drink and lay with whores. your uncles included. but you paid little mind. as you enjoyed life within your little bubble. spending your days with your family and benji. life was perfect. and you couldn't wait for the wedding.

⌗ and once the day finally arrived. you were jittery with nerves. dressed head to toe in white. you looked the spitting image of duty. as you walked arm in arm with your father towards the alter. the eyes of hundreds of highborns fixed on you in awe. but all you could focus on was. ben. your ben. as the two of you recited your vows with joy you sealed it with a kiss. and after the celebrations of the night. and your new husband threatening to behead anyone who dares mention a bedding ceremony. the two of you joined select family. from both side. to join for another ceremony. a traditional valyrian wedding. and as you sealed your love once more with a bloody kiss. you now truly had it all.

anon , May I please have a targaryen! reader, daughter of daemon and rhaenyra, born after jace like she looks so much like Aemma, and the kingdom would speak of her as Aemma reborn, being favored by Viserys and her people. Can imagine her claiming a dragon that was rumored to be from the late Balerion’s clutch, a stark contrast to the other she-dragons, with her own being a ferocious creature of black scales and fire of black and red. While she is loved in her kingdom, she is also loved in her family. Much like Helaena, the reader is the apple of the kingdom’s eyes and dearer to her family more than anything. And when the topic of suitors comes, all of them are horrified when the one that catches her eye is the Bloody Ben himself, Benjicot Blackwood. ps. I’m a sucker for a beloved character whom loves someone that is the exact opposite of her 😭💖 Requesting for more familial and platonic fic with the Benjicot romance just maybe being small 😩☝️

𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 | 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄.

❝ if loving you is a sin, then i will spend the rest of my life atoning. ❞

𝘈𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘙𝘩𝘦𝘢 𝘙𝘰𝘺𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯. 𝘐𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴' 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘐𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴.

⊹ fandom house of the dragon

⊹ pairing aemond targaryen x oc!targaryen

⊹ tags angst, fluff, smut, lovers to enemies to lovers while being enemies, slow burn, dad!daemon, focuses a lot on the gaps between the time skips, found family vibes), love triangle with oc!stark

⊹ uploaded on wattpad

⊹ warnings toxic relationships, possessiveness, typical ASOIAF warnings: sexual themes, explicit language, violence

𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 "the only words i said to her more often than professions of love were begs for her forgiveness"

𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔 "they put all their dreams in me but my own"

𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒏 "if you loved me, why did you lie"

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 "dreams didn't make us kings. dragons did"

𝐄𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 "if history only remembers me as the man who loved you, then i have lived a good life"

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖼 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 (𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾) 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽!

𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽 "𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋" 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇.

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

about children and trouble

summary: It is reported that in the year 121 AC, when the Realm’s Jewel was only six summers old, her hatchling Merrax was eaten by the Cannibal in a strange turn of events that found him moving from Dragonstone to the Dragonpit in King’s Landing. Princess Rhaenyra demanded to have the dragon’s head cut, but as nobody ever tried nor dared to get close to the Cannibal, it was impossible to do it. Thus, her daughter took the matters into her own hands.

pairings: cregan stark x velaryon!reader (no use of y/n), platonic (familial) relationship between the targs/velaryon and reader

word count: 8.2k

warnings: cregan being harassed by a six year old, tantrums, mentions of death, reader being young rhaenyra come back to life, overall pretty chill?

author's note: man do i love writing about reader annoying cregan.

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You spend the month before your sixth nameday on Driftmark, with your paternal grandparents and the other Velaryon family members.

There, your grandparents shower you with gifts, presenting you with a beautiful headpiece made of pearls and seashells that you fall in love with and a new array of clothes — all embroidered with diamonds and pearls, most in the sea-blue colour of the Velaryon emblem.

“We started out as fishermen,” Corlys tells you one day, holding you in his arms and motioning to the vastness of the sea beyond Blackwater Bay. “Then we became sailors, then explorers, then merchants. Then we took what was rightfully ours– Driftmark and a title. But never forget where you came from, little one. We owe the sea too much to discard it.”

You like the sea, almost as much as you like riding dragons. You and your grandfather take swims together when it gets too hot, taking your time to cool off before going back to the castle, trying to hold in your laughter and hide from the wrath of Rhaenys, who isn’t too fond of the idea of her granddaughter being wet like a dog. And since her husband isn’t getting any younger either and constantly complains about aching limbs, then maybe he shouldn’t dive into Blackwater Bay like it’s a hot bath, too. 

When she isn’t preoccupied in reprimanding you and her husband for being childish, your grandmother Rhaenys takes you on long rides on Meleys, the Red Queen, who has taken a liking in you and seeks your caresses every time you are near. You like the air brushing your face and hair, and the enormous castle becoming almost small from how much high up you two are.

Your father and grandfather make sure to start teaching you all they know about boats and navigating through the sea. You ask them when your brothers will be able to join you all, and they tell you that once they near their sixth nameday, they’ll take them out to the sea too; teach them everything they know, just as they’re doing with you. You cannot wait for Jace and Luke to be able to share this with you, because the sea has never felt more like home than right now. 

As you lean over the edge of the boat, you let your hand brush over the surface of the water, looking at your grandmother in complete awe. “We have to do this more often, grandmother, I can’t remember ever having this much fun in my life.”

She laughs then, a rich sound coming right from her heart, and pinches your nose, eyes tender and loving. “Ah, is that so, my sweet? Then I’ll be expecting a lot of visits from you once you claim your own dragon.” 

You perk up. “I promise, the first time I fly on a dragon, it will be to come here and visit you and grandfather.”

You catch your first fish that day — a little thing that could barely fill even the stomach of a child — and your grandfather takes you in his arms and promises that soon, he will buy you your own boat — after all, the feast for your sixth summer is only a sennight away. It’s also the first time you hold a real sword in your hands, and as you almost — and by accident — cut off Corlys’ nose, your father laughs his ass off and promises that soon enough, he’ll start training you to be able to manage a real blow with the blade.

Two days later, you all depart on dragonback for King’s Landing; and even if Corlys has always been hesitant about riding on Meleys with his wife, your laughs while you sat in front of your father on Seasmoke definitely eased his nerves. It’s a relatively short ride to the Dragonpit, as you leave in the morrow right after breaking your fast and by the late afternoon you’re already in the Crown Lands. 

Waiting for you in the Dragonpit are your mother and the King, a smile on their faces, Viserys with his arms open waiting for a hug. 

You get off of Seasmoke’s wing slipping like it’s some sort of slide as your father yells at you to please be careful, then immediately call out for your grandsire while running up at him. “Ah, my dear granddaughter!” he exclaims, holding out his arms and catching you as you jump in them. He tries his best not to grunt from the effort. “Have you been good to your father, Lord Corlys and Rhaenys?”

You excitedly nod, snuggling into his shoulder, and even if his knees and back are screaming for mercy since his health is getting worse and his muscles more frail, he refuses to accept that his precious girl is growing up — so much that in a few months he won’t be able to pick her up anymore. 

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow at your apparent lack of care about her presence. “What am I, chopped liver?”

You hold out a hand and pat it against her shoulder, almost like you’re saying sorry. You still don’t budge from your grandsire’s arms. She doesn’t seem to hold it against you, taking your little palm in hers and placing a kiss on it. She brushes your hair out of your face as you close your eyes, yawning. 

She chuckles. “Tired, my love?” 

You nod, eyes teary from the sleepiness. Your mother then eases you out of your grandsire’s arms without too many protests, holding you close against her chest. “Then we better go to bed as soon as we get back to the Keep, sweetling.”

It seems you don’t like this idea. “Don’ wanna,” you mumble, barely squirming, not even managing to formulate properly a sentence. “I wanna play with Jace and Luke, and, and… and train with them and dad. Grandma says she’s goin’ to teach me how to sew dresses for Emya and Melissa like auntie Helaena does, and grandpa wants to take me with him to sail across the seas.”

Emya and Melissa are your favourite dolls — just two of the dozens you have, the ones you gift to all the outfits Helaena sews for practice. Soon enough, she’ll have to start learning how to do that, too, your mother thinks, not without a pang of sadness in her heart. How time flies. “You’ll have time to sail with Corlys and learn from Rhaenys how to sew once you get older, sweetling. About your father and your brothers… well, they aren’t going anywhere any time soon.” 

She isn’t surprised to see you pass out in her arms not even a few minutes later, and by the time the carriage stops at the Keep, you’re dead asleep. She lays you in your bed and tucks you in for the night, thinking– My little girl soon enough will be a big girl. But then, she ponders that you could never be too big for her to stop considering you her little girl. 

The next day is spent catching up with your brothers; mostly Luke, who apparently took your absence particularly bad, and is now set on always having at least a hand on you — and that is when he doesn’t straight up wrap his body around one of your legs, hence you having to limp through the Red Keep with your little brother chained to your leg. 

Thankfully Rhaenys is quick to put an end to this madness, demanding the prince to stop harassing you, since you’re not going anywhere for a while. Lucerys departs from your leg — not without any protests — and lets you be, even if in the next few days he’s still pretty clingy — not that you would ever mind. He’s still your little brother, and you give him all the hugs and cuddles he wants, even if sometimes you’d rather be by yourself or with just Heleana without getting interrupted every single minute. 

When you bring it up to her, she shrugs. “I would pay to have brothers like that, you know. Be thankful for what you have.” Because my brothers are too stuck in their own misery to even care about me or notice my presence or absence.

You take her hand and squeeze it, then hug her tight. “But you have me,” you reply. “‘Tis not much, maybe, but I can try.” Helaena only shakily hugs you back, not saying anything. She usually doesn't like hugs, but this one feels strangely comforting.

(You don’t know how much she cried that night, thinking about how she wishes you were her sister and not a niece her mother despises. But it’s probably better this way, because maybe, if you were born as her sister, you wouldn’t be as loved as you are — and she can’t even imagine you being in her situation, always discarded by your family. Maybe you would become as careless as Aegon, or as closed off as Aemond. Maybe it’s a blessing you weren’t borne out of Alicent Hightower. 

Then, she prays that in another lifetime, you two are borne out of the same mother, a mother as loving as Rhaenyra, and she gets to be your older sister, without having to ask anyone for permission to have a hug from you.)

The day of your name day finally arrives, and with it the feast your grandsire has organised in the last two months. It is a grand affair, with almost all the lords from the Seven Kingdoms present, and your parents honestly have no idea where they’re going to put all the gifts you’ll receive. 

You sit right beside your grandsire, between him and your mother, wearing the pearl headpiece your grandparents gifted you and an aqua blue dress that has been tailor made for the occasion. Every now and then a Lord gets up from his table to bring their felicitations to you and your family, but you know it’s just a way to somehow get to talk to your grandsire about their matters.

Most of them are old and boring, and Viserys dismisses them without even a spare glance towards their problems, set on having a good time at least during your celebrations. You don’t pay them much mind either, focused on the food and all the gifts that you’ll get to unwrap in the next few days — that is, until a guy more or less of Aemond’s age comes over. 

The first thing Rhaenyra does — after thinking what the hell do they feed children in the North for them to be this big? — is nudging her husband on the ribs and nodding towards the boy. “Looks like he got a new buckle. Let’s hope she doesn’t steal that one, too.”

He’s grown since the last time she’s seen him. He should be ten, maybe eleven summers old now, but looks a bit older — northerners and their fucking genes. His dark hair is shorter, he has a ceremonial dagger strapped on his belt and this time he definitely looks like a Little Lord. 

“My King,” he bows, then nods to you and bows again. “My Princess, I wished to congratulate you on your sixth nameday and excuse my father for his absence. Unfortunately he fell ill just before the departure to King’s Landing, so he sent me in his stead." He raises his head and looks again at you, “To a hundred of these days, my Princess.”

You’ve got the same look you had when you first saw him as a babe, even if Rhaenyra is sure that you don’t remember even seeing him. She isn’t even sure you know who he is, but you’re already blushing and swinging your legs under the table. 

“Ah, you’re Lord Rickon’s son– Cregan, am I right?” Viserys looks over to his daughter for confirmation, and she nods. The boy nods, too. “Yes, Your Majesty. Unfortunately he had to stay in the North.” 

“Yes, yes, ‘tis no problem,” Viserys waves a hand at him, “Send him my regards. Last year your mother died — and so did your brother the year before, am I right? Another tragedy in the North is the last thing we want.” he grimaces at his bad phrasing, which clearly sounded better in his head. The boy doesn’t react, but he knows that if he wasn’t the King, he probably would already have that beautiful ceremonial knife up his throat. 

Rhaenyra coughs. “What the King means to say,” she interjects, “is that we wish you our deepest condolences and will pray so that Lord Rickon can get a fast recovery.” 

Cregan bows his head and half-smiles. “Thank you, my Princess.”

“Is it as cold in the North as they say?” you suddenly ask him, tone full of child-like awe. 

The boy winces, and Rhaenyra just knows he’s getting flashbacks of that one time when you tried to make him bald. “Erm… yes, it is. There’s snow all year.” 

“One day I'll make sure to bring you there,” your grandsire briefly cuts in, not wanting to bother the Little Lord any longer. He smiles at him, nodding, “I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening, boy.”

Cregan doesn't have to be told twice, because by the time he's finished bowing he's already sprinting to the table he left earlier. You pout, staring at him while he sits back down between some other northern lords, and you hear your mother laugh. “Why the long face, sweetling?”

You look up at her. “Is the North far away?” you do have geography lessons, but something like distance is still a pretty hard concept to understand. 

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, amused. “The North, or where the boy comes from?” You blush and keep your head down, “Why, where the boy comes from of course,”

Your mother laughs. “I’d say that Winterfell is… maybe a little more than a moon by carriage far from here.” your face falls, “But it’s a day or two by dragon.” 

You perk up. “When can I claim Merrax?”

Rhaenyra almost falls out of the chair laughing at this. It seems that the first love is never truly forgotten, even if you don’t even remember him. “Soon enough, sweetling.” 

Not much long after, the bards pick songs you can dance to; your grandsire offers you his hand to open the dances, even if he isn’t in the best conditions to do so, and you gleefully accept. You share a dance with him, even if it has to be cut short because of him not feeling the best, and happily swap him for your grandparents who like to twirl you around until you’re dizzy. 

You can’t even sit down before your brothers grab your hands and drag you to the dancefloor once again, demanding a dance with their sister too, and it’s only when the bards choose a slower song that you finally manage to sit down and catch a breath. That is, until you see the boy. 

Cregan Stark is about to retire for the night when he catches the scare of his life. 

“I have a buckle like that, too.”

He barely manages to hold back a yelp, eyes snapping behind him just to see you, bashfully looking at him, hands behind your back and on your tiptoes. He presses a hand on his chest, regaining himself. “Princess,” he says, but it sounds a bit breathless. “Yes, I remember. I gave you that buckle six years ago.” 

You tilt your head. “Ah, really?”

He nods. “Yes, at the feast for your birth. I remember it well.” I also remember how you terrorised me for a good part of the night. 

You hum, but don’t seem to have anything to say for now. He feels awkward, because he would gladly take his leave right now if it weren’t for the fact that he can feel the eyes of the whole Royal Family on you two. He’s not sure he can go without having the permission to — your permission, maybe — and the only thing his father advised him not to do was to cause a diplomatic incident. 

(Meanwhile, at the Royal table, your grandfathers and Laenor are discussing the very thing happening before their eyes, questioning what to do — and what you are trying to do. 

“Maybe she just likes the buckle again,” Laenor hushes. “Maybe she wants another one.”

“No, no, I’m pretty sure she’s asking him if he is already betrothed,”

Viserys and Laenor send a nasty glare to Corlys, “She’s six, I surely hope not,” mutters your grandsire, worried about his little girl growing up, and most of all, getting interested in boys. Have you really already passed that phase where you think that boys are gross? Is he really getting that old?

“Ten Gold Dragons that she’s waiting for him to ask her to dance.” Rhaenyra cuts in. Rhaenys nods, taking a sip of her wine. “I would bet a hundred coins on that one.”)

The music is slow, and it almost drags the silence between you and the boy as you just stare at him. “I like this music.”

“Erm, yes,” Cregan grimaces. He fears he knows where this is going. “It is pretty lovely.”

Another moment of silence passes. “I also really like dancing,” you add. 

He sighs. There’s really no escape now. “Would you mayhaps like to dance, Princess?”

You squeal, girlish and childish, and immediately take his hand to drag him with you to the dancefloor. You don’t know the dance too well and your steps are a bit clumsy, but your enthusiasm definitely makes up for it. At some point though his feet are begging for mercy after being stomped on for ten minutes, so he takes the matters in his own hands and lifts you up enough for your tiptoes to rest upon his feet, so that he has to dance and you just have to stay balanced.

You giggle, blushing and looking up at him, grinning. He has the terrible feeling that he’s not getting out of here anytime soon. 

(Viserys lets out a pained sigh, thinking about his dear late wife. “She looks so much like her grandmother,” 

Corlys nods, looking at Rhaenys. “She does.”)

People around you two are dancing and swirling, too, and they chuckle at Cregan, sending him back to six years ago and making him feel a terrible deja-vu. At least she’s not pulling my hair anymore. He does have to admit that you’re a bit cute, though — you look so focused, looking at his feet and trying to memorise the steps as best as you can. But the fact that you’re cute doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have preferred going to sleep over dancing. 

He finds his saviour in a servant, who awkwardly stops your dance by bowing. “My Princess, my Lord,” the boy doesn’t mind correcting him on the honorifice, since he technically is here in the name of his father. The servant’s voice has a certain urgency. “A raven has just arrived from Winterfell. It’s from Lord Rickon Stark.” 

Cregan nods, “I’ll come in a minute,” he’s already out of the dancefloor, but then you tug on his cloak, big doe eyes staring at him. “But we have to finish our dance,” 

He sighs, and from the corner of his vision he sees Laenor Velaryon coming to get you. “I’m sorry, Princess, I’m sure there’ll be another time for us to dance again,” I hope not, “But now I really have to go.” 

Your lower lip trembles, you let out a whine. Before he can even realise he’s about to witness a grade eight type of meltdown, Laenor saves the day. He comes up behind you, taking your arms in his hands, smiling as sweetly as he can. “I can dance with you,” he offers. 

“But I want to dance with him,” 

Your father tries to suppress a cry of horror from the fact that you don’t want to dance with him — you’ve never rejected a dance with him before now. This is a first. He looks at Cregan, trying his best not to glare at him, understanding that this is not a situation he will get out of easily. “Would you perhaps be interested in becoming a ward here, boy?” he asks, barely managing to stop you from squirming in his grip. “She really likes you, and you would have the chance to stay in the Crown Lands for the time being. It is a great opportunity.”

At this point, he’s sounding desperate. Please stay here, my daughter will throw a fit if you go away. It seems you have found yourself a new toy, and unfortunately it’s not one of the new gifts that the lords brought. “You could be squire, cupbearer– oof,” you land a particularly harsh blow on his ribs, and he loses his breath for a moment, “Lord Commander of the City Watch, anything you want.” he leans down so that he’s more to his height, “Please.” he whispers, all his desperation clear in his strained voice. 

For some unknown reason, you calm down in an instant. Laenor fears that if he looks at you you’re going to start complaining again, so his gaze remains on the boy, who now looks terrified. Evidently, he has understood that he has to run, and fast. “Um– I– I’m flattered,” the Stark murmurs. “But unfortunately I’ve got duties up in the North as heir, a– and um, a letter from my father has just arrived. So, please excuse me,” he bows one last time before bolting out of the hall, the servant in front of him. 

Laenor sighs. He finally looks down at you, disappointed, and–

“Is that a knife?” you put it behind your back before he can see better and try your best to resist his wrangling with one hand. It does not take much for your father to take the dagger out of your hands, and realise it was the ceremonial dagger Cregan was carrying around before. He pales. “Is that why you stopped whining? How did you even get this?”

You look away. “I don’t know. I just took it.” you blush, “It was shiny,” 

It is of beautiful manufacture — the hilt is a direwolf much like the Stark’s emblem, and out of his mouth comes the blade. Your father sighs. “This is bad, sweetling. You don’t get to steal from others, am I clear? Tomorrow, you'll apologise to Lord Cregan and you’ll give it back to him.”

You pout, but it doesn’t last long. Because your grandsire comes up behind you, waving a hand at Laenor. “Aw, come on, she’s just a child. If she likes it so much she can keep it. I’ll make sure to send the boy a dagger twice the worth of that one.”

Your eyes shine, looking up at your grandfather. “Really? I can keep it?” 

“Of course not–”

“Of course,” your grandsire says, and that’s all that matters because he’s the King. You snatch the dagger from your father and run to Jace and Luke to show them your prize. 

Rhaenyra comes up to her father and husband, Laenor sulking and Viserys grinning. “May I ask why my firstborn is parading a dagger that I saw the Stark boy wear earlier to her brothers?” 

“She liked it,” her father simply says. “Was I supposed to just leave her heartbroken by the boy? She had to have some kind of compensation, at least.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Father, that was not heartbreak. That’s the kind of reaction she has when we take away her dolls.” your mother shivers, “May the Gods help us all the day her first heartbreak comes through.”

Rhaenyra surely didn’t think your first heartbreak would have come so soon. 

“How is it possible?” she seethes, arms crossed and a glare that could kill. 

The dragon keeper falters. “Well– you see, my Princess, the Cannibal landed a few hours ago in the pit. We didn’t give it much thought, since he always comes and goes, but then we noticed that a few hatchlings were missing, and–” “And you realised he ate them,” Laenor sighs. He’s already preparing himself for the world-shattering tantrum you’ll throw once you'll know that Merrax was fucking eaten. 

The keeper nods. “Yes. And, he has, um… let’s say, usurped the hatchling’s cave. We secured the other younglings, but if he were to discover them, we wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’s a wild dragon and second in size only to Vhagar, so–”

“I want his head,” Rhaenyra declares. “And if I have to storm into the Dragonpit and kill him myself to do so then I will.”

“My Princess, please reconsider,” the keeper cries out. “The Cannibal is one of the oldest dragons and is thought to be one of Balerion’s offsprings– one of the only ones to have survived. Killing him would be like… like erasing a part of your family’s history!”

“Erasing a part of my family’s history?” Rhaenyra booms. “Erasing a part of my family’s history?! He’s already making sure of it! How are our children supposed to claim dragons if he eats them all? He’s an abomination! Nobody ever even dared to give him a name, and he’s one of the only offsprings of Balerion left just because he ate his own siblings in the cradle, some even before they could hatch!”

“Nyra, calm down,” Laenor chastises. “Yes, it is a tragedy, and I don’t even want to think about how our daughter will react–”

At that she laughs bitterly, “Ooh, she’ll be pissed!”

“–Yes she will, but you know what? At least she hadn’t bonded yet with Merrax. She can still claim some other dragon, or– or– another dragon could hatch before she is of age to claim one.” “She is in the age of claiming one!” his wife rages. “I was seven summers when I claimed one, and I made sure that she would be able to surpass me and become the youngest dragon rider at only six– but of course the fucking Cannibal had to eat her dragon!”

“Princess Helaena’s hatchling was eaten, too,” the keeper whispers. “And even though he hatched at birth, she never bonded with him, and is instead bonded to Dreamfyre. Dragons are put in cradles in hope of the bonding process being easier in the future, but still, not all dragons that hatch in the cradle become bonded with the ones they shared it with. The young Princess still has options.” “I don’t care that she does, I want the Cannibal dead!”

It is quite late in the evening after the feast, so all children should be asleep, but you are not. You are in your aunt’s chambers, near to your own, playing with your dolls as Helaena hums songs and sews new dresses for you. 

“And while the dragon’s scales were as red as flames,” she sings quietly, “the maiden’s eyes were as blue as sapphires…” 

The singing is easily tuned out by the screaming match that is happening outside, probably down the hallway or in the gardens. You can hear the voice of your mother, enraged, and your father, who’s just trying to calm her down. 

You rise from the floor, leaving your dolls there, opening the door of the chamber and peeking an eye out. Ser Harrold Westerling, stationed in front of the door, is quick to notice you even as your mother screams and rages. “Princess,” he whispers, kneeling down. “You should be asleep. Please, get back inside,”

Meanwhile, your mother cries out, “Merrax is dead! And with her another four dragons died, all because you’re too scared of a stupid wild dragon! Why should my daughter suffer because of your cowardice? I’ll slay the Cannibal myself, if you don’t dare to do so!” 

Both you and the knight stop in your tracks. Your breath hitches. Merrax is… dead? 

You’re just a child — you are yet to grasp the concept of death. You know the late Queen Aemma, your grandmother, is dead. She died giving birth to your uncle Baelon — who died, too. You are a child, surrounded by death, yet not touched by it. You know the names of people who have died, relatives and not  — Alysanne, Aemon, Balerion, Aemma, Baelon — but they were all before you were born. You’ve never suffered a real loss. 

“What… what does it mean?” you ask Harrold, trembling. “Where– where did Merrax go? To Old Valyria?” your grandsire, while telling you about Balerion, the largest dragon in the world that he once rode, said that when dragons died they went back there. “We can– we can search for her, right? We… we must.” 

Your mother is none the wiser about your presence down the hallway, cursing in High Valyrian and threatening the dragon keeper. Your father, instead, notices. “Nyra,” he calls her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Stop.”

She does, annoyed, but once she sees your little trembling form coming out of Helaena’s chambers she feels her blood freeze. There’s no way of breaking the news gently, now. 

She dismisses the dragon keeper, rushing to get you; Laenor takes you in his arms, bidding his goodbyes to Harrold and Helaena, holding you tight to his chest while walking towards your chambers. You’re awfully quiet, shaking like a leaf, eyes barred open despite the late hour. 

Reaching your chambers, Laenor sits you down on the settee by the fireplace, kneeling down in front of you with Rhaenyra and holding your hand. Nobody is saying anything, and it scares you. Somehow, it makes it all feel more real. You whimper, because it just can’t be. “I– where… where’s Merrax?”

“Sweetling,” your mother starts. “There’s a wild dragon, known as the Cannibal, that has been eating our hatchlings for centuries. We don’t know how old he actually is– some say he’s an offspring of Balerion, your grandsire’s late dragon, and Vhagar. That would make him one of the two only dragons still alive to this day to have seen Old Valyria before the Doom– that’s why us Targaryens were always adamant about getting rid of him.”

You know about the Cannibal — so why is she telling you this? “The other reason is that nobody has ever managed to approach him,” your father adds. “He eats everything that gets near him, and often wanders to Dragonstone from King’s Landing and vice versa. That is to say, sweetling… there’s nothing we could have done to save her.” That is not true, Rhaenyra thinks, but it is best if the guilt rests on us rather than upon her. 

“What does it mean?” you babble. “Merrax… where…”

“Merrax has been eaten, sweetling,” says Rhaenyra, ripping off the bandaid. “The Cannibal has taken her.”

You shake your head, eyes filling with tears. “But– but she was mine!”

“We know, sweetling–”

“She was born with me, for me! She was my dragon– she had just started to eat from my hand!” now tears flow down your face as you weep, cheeks blotchy and an angry red. “Am I supposed to live like Aemond from now on? Without a dragon, bullied by Aegon and rejected by every hatchling? Why– what will grandsire think of me? He was the last rider of Balerion and his only granddaughter’s dragon died before she could even bond with her!”

Your cries are now inconsolable, and you reach for your parents, falling into their arms on the floor with them. “Your– you gave me your riding clothes from when you were my age and had them tailored just for me, but I can’t wear them without a dragon! I’ll just look stupid!”

Rhaenyra coos, brushing your hair back from your face and kissing your temple. “Calm down, my sweet. You shall not become like Aemond — you had not bonded yet with your dragon. And as much as Merrax’s death pains me, too, ‘tis not the end of the world. There are other hatchlings and adult dragons without a rider, who are just waiting for the right Targaryen to claim them.” 

She kisses your eyes and cheeks, wiping your tears. “And I’m sure at least one of them is waiting just for you.”

You have a plan. ‘Tis not really smart, but you are six summers old and have a dream. A dream that your mother always reputed you capable of — becoming the youngest dragon rider, surpassing her. You’re not about to let that dream go just because a stupid grandpa of a dragon ate your hatchling.

Until the Cannibal is back on Dragonstone, your mother refuses to let you go to the Dragonpit, insisting that he’s already stayed for too long — surely, he’s about to go off his way again, right?

(Apparently not. Helaena, who wasn’t forbidden from going to the pit, said that the dragon keepers are worried: it seems the Cannibal is taking his time — waiting for something, or someone.)

The plan is secretly going with Heleana to the Dragonpit, right before supper. As she visits Dreamfyre, you should be able to seek one of the hatchlings — and maybe one of them will take pity on you and allow you to ride them. 

The first part goes pretty well. You get in the dragon riding attire your mother had gifted you and that she once wore — black, with red embroidery displaying the Targaryen emblem on your chest — and just get in the carriage, right next to Helaena. Ser Criston Cole, the knight assigned to her for the afternoon, doesn’t even spare you a glance; he never does, that’s why you chose today of all days to come with your aunt. 

She is nervous, fidgeting with her hands and playing with her rings. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be wiser for you to stay in the Keep?” she asks worriedly. “It doesn’t matter if for a while you won’t have a dragon. I claimed mine just last year, and I’m older than you.”

You don’t reply — you’ve been rather silent in the last few days, unlike your usual self. Rhaenyra finds it even worse than your tantrums — she wishes you would just get it out and scream instead of remaining as silent as a ghost, your ramblings now an almost distant memory. They all just wish you could be the same as before the feast, before Merrax was eaten. 

The ride to the Dragonpit is short but awkward, and you wonder how your mother will react once she realises you sneaked out. It probably won’t take her much longer to notice your absence, so you have to either be quick or hide in the Dragonpit for the night if you wish to ride a dragon before your seventh name day. 

As you exit the carriage, a dragon keeper welcomes you and Helaena; he looks confused as to why you’re here, but quickly shakes it off, guiding you two towards the caves where the dragons rest. He hesitantly sends a glance to you, “The hatchlings are also there — Dreamfyre has her own clutch, and with the Cannibal near, we prefer to keep them with their own parents so they may be protected.” 

You nod as he guides you into one of the caves, a pretty light-blue and silver dragon chained in there. With Dreamfyre, there are four hatchlings, all much similar to her, all sleeping and chained. 

The keeper frees Dreamfyre from her chains, and she immediately darts to Helaena, gently nudging her with her snout. “Rytsas, issa hāedar,” Hello, my girl, she says. You know the basics of Valyrian — your mother made sure you knew enough to be able to claim and ride a dragon, even if it’s not as fluent as you’d like. You just understand it better than you speak it. 

You watch the hatchlings as they start to rouse; there’s a pretty one with blue and red scales that you intend to approach– 

Then you hear something. 

A low rumble coming from another cave, one that shakes the whole pit. “The Cannibal,” the dragon keeper mutters spitefully. “What a monster.” 

Well, that’s too bad, because you’ve already lost interest in the hatchling you saw earlier, and now your eyes are set on another possibility. The Cannibal.

No one ever managed to claim him, and all that tried are long dead. He can’t be killed as the other dragons know better than to get near him and there’s no amount of gold that could convince any man to try. Yet, he’s the one who killed Merrax, the one to have killed the dragon that should have been yours; he owes you a debt, and it has to be paid. 

The dragon keeper is too preoccupied with Dreamfyre and her hatchlings to notice your absence, and you are quick to snatch one of the torches on the walls to guide yourself through the various caves. You can feel the Cannibal’s presence, somehow; it haunts the pit, hanging like a weight over the caves, and suddenly you understand why the dragons have been so uneasy since his arrival. The air is heavy and smells of burnt flesh, smoke lingering between the corridors. 

The rumbling that you heard earlier is heard again, and you know that he’s near. And he is — only two caves away, you find him. 

He’s of a pitch black colour, and is covered in spikes, which — much like his tail — fade in a deep green. Some of his scales, at the light of the fire, shine of the same colour too; now you understand why he’s thought of being the son of Balerion and Vhagar, because if it weren’t for the torch revealing his green shades, you’d think he was the Black Dread come back to life. Two horns rest above his eyes, tipped backwards and almost pointing at his wings. He’s massive, and it’s clear that this cave wasn’t meant for him, as it’s definitely much too small for his form. It was meant for the hatchlings — the hatchlings he ate. 

He opens his eyes, roused from his sleep, and two gigantic emeralds stare down at you, almost mockingly. He makes no move towards you, nor tries to eat you, so maybe that’s a good sign. 

“You’re the Cannibal,” you whisper, stupidly. “You’re the one who killed Merrax.”

He barely grunts in response, maybe uninterested in you, maybe in assent. 

You then understand that if you truly want to claim and ride a dragon, then you must gather all the courage your little body can muster up and use it. “You ate Merrax,” you state, more firmly, all the anger you’ve felt in the last few days finally getting the best of you. “Ao enkagon nyke iā gēlȳn.” You owe me a debt. 

This time, he props his head up; he looks entertained, almost as if he’s betting on what you’ll do. You can’t hurt him — you’re but a child — and you surely can’t kill him. So, what are you going to do? 

There’s a rack of rope near the entrance of the cave, probably used for the hatchlings when they were still alive. You put down the torch, leaving it on the sand of the pit, and roll up the rope, holding it between your arm and shoulder. The Cannibal has no saddle, so you’ll have to find a way not to fall off of him. Your mother’s going to kill you if you do — but let’s see if you live enough for her to be able to do that. 

The climb to reach the top of the Cannibal’s neck looks hard, but you’re stubborn and would rather die than let him go away with the fact that he ate Merrax. If you can't kill him, then you’re going to bother him for the rest of your life. So, the only thing you can do is start climbing. 

He seems confused by your doing, as you’re clinging to the spikes and scales trying to reach the top of his neck. He shakes it, somewhat in a gentle manner, and you fall on your butt, not from high enough to actually hurt, but from high enough to have a bruised ego. 

“What is wrong with you?” you scream out, angry. “You killed my dragon, the last thing you can do is replace her!”

Your voice dies a little by the end, because the Cannibal has gotten up and leant down, opening his left wing, almost inviting you to mount him. You’re completely weirded out, but surely enough, are not going to reject his offer. 

Quickly getting up, with the wing serving as some sort of stairs, in a matter of mere minutes you find yourself on top of the Cannibal, who looks like he’s just waiting for you to say something. “Okay, okay,” you mumble to yourself. You’re not scared — well, not of him, but of your mother. Oh, once she hears about this, you’ll be grounded until you’re ready to be wed. 

With the rope, you tie yourself to the dragon, using his spikes to hold the cord firm onto his body. You give him a pat on the scales, adjusting to the feeling of being so high up. “Um… iōrās?” you order him to stand, but it sounds more like a question. 

He does follow your demand, though, standing up straighter, ready to get out. “Whoa– alright.” you hold onto the spikes tighter, “Well, I have to name you first, big guy.”

He turns his head to look at you, almost confused. “I can’t just keep calling you the Cannibal, because I won’t let you eat any more hatchlings.” At this, he grunts in disapproval, but you go on, telling yourself that he surely doesn’t understand the common tongue and just wants to go against you. “My mother calls all her dragon’s hatchlings with names ending in ax, because her mount’s name is Syrax. So I could call you something like… I don’t know, Rhaerion?”

He grumbles, and you grimace. “I don’t think you deserve your father’s name, though. You eat baby dragons, while Balerion was loyal and obedient.” You search your brain for names, Valyrian or not, that would suit him, before having the idea of a lifetime.

You know some basics of High Valyrian, enough to make a dragon fly, always says your mother. Helaena is pretty good at it, Aemond is almost fluent and your brothers are still learning it. Your uncle Aegon, instead, is completely ignorant of it except for cursing words. He likes to call anyone an orvorta, but he has a favourite cuss word usually used for your brothers — and while it makes you mad that he refers to them in such a way, you have to admit that it is a name quite fitting for your dragon. 

“Your name shall be Nādrēsy,” you tell him. “That is, until you redeem yourself. Then I may decide to find you another name, maybe a kinder one.” 

He roars, shaking his head, looking at you in disappointment. You can hear the dragon keepers shout your name in the corridors, having finally noticed your absence — or maybe your presence, since you shouldn’t have been there since the beginning. You hold onto the dragon’s spikes as hard as you can, preparing yourself for some movement. 

“Jiōragon hen hen kesīr, Nādrēsy!” you order, with the same tone your grandsire uses while holding court. Get out of here. 

He does as you ask, moving on all fours with steps that make the Dragonpit shake. You see two keepers in front of you, frozen in fear, but it’s not long before they start screaming and running away. 

You get to the entrance of the Dragonpit, and from where you sit you see a group of gold cloaks standing not too far away, behind Ser Harwin Strong — who apparently barely notices the dragon behind him, too preoccupied in screaming in Ser Criston Cole’s face about how “it’s all his fault that the princess is missing” and how “the King should have his head”. 

While you never liked Cole too much, as he seemed to despise you for no reason, you didn’t wish for him to be beheaded because of you. So you stop Nādrēsy, and cupping your mouth with your hands you scream, “Ser Harwin! I’m here!” 

At first the Lord Commander doesn’t understand where you are, looking around and sending a glance at Cole that says this doesn’t end here, but once he sees you, all the blood drains from his face, as well as from the face of Ser Criston and the other knights. “Princess!” he screams, hysteric. “Get off of there, it’s dangerous! Your mother has been searching for you, and she’s worried!”

But it seems that you already can’t hear him, returning all your attention to your dragon. “Gaomagon ao gīmigon skoriot Driftmark iksis?” you ask him. Do you know where Driftmark is?

You have all the intentions of keeping the promise you made to your grandmother, about your first flight being one to visit her and Corlys on Driftmark. They had just gotten back a couple of days ago, but you’re sure that they would still be happy to see you. Right now, you don’t think about your parents, too euphoric of finally having a dragon of your own as you are — and that will probably cost you another two years you’ll have to spend grounded. 

Nādrēsy roars loudly, opening his wings and taking flight. 

Not even ten hours later you find yourself on Driftmark, under the worried glance of your grandparents, who upon hearing your story are asking themselves if Rhaenyra has already thrown herself into madness. You happily show them your new acquaintance, who unexpectedly purrs when you caress his snout and doesn’t look like the Cannibal who ate countless of hatchlings. 

“That’s… that’s marvellous, sweetheart,” Rhaenys is a bit shaken, but still tries to be supportive. “Does your mother, perhaps, know that you’re here?” “Of course not! She would throw a fit otherwise.”

All their fears are confirmed to be true, and your grandmother immediately asks a servant for paper and pen to write to King’s Landing. And as you tell them how you renamed the Cannibal, Corlys pales, thinking that with you being daughter of Rhaenyra, you could have chosen something way worse. He’s just grateful that the common folk doesn’t know High Valyrian. 

Two days later, a raven comes from Driftmark, finally putting at ease the concerns of the whole court and stopping Rhaenyra and Laenor from getting any more grey hairs. 

To King Viserys I Targaryen, his daughter Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her husband, Ser Laenor Velaryon. The Princess (who you have been searching for, I assume) has just landed on Driftmark. She is safe and sound, thankfully, and she rode ten hours on a dragon known for his wilderness without a saddle, secured on him only by a cord. She renamed the Cannibal (funnily enough, if you wish to know, his name now is ‘Nādrēsy’) who is now eating all the whales and sharks of the Narrow Sea that he can see from the island. We managed to put a saddle on him, so that the next time she’ll ride him the chances of falling off his back are minimal, and I will accompany her back to King’s Landing on Meleys myself as soon as she takes a good rest and is able to get on the dragon again. Me and my husband took the liberty to give her an earful about her recklessness and irresponsibility, but we’re sure you’ll choose a considerate punishment for her behaviour once she returns to King’s Landing.  Yours truly, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.

Rhaenyra puts down the letter, taking a deep breath, telling herself that violence is not the answer. Unfortunately, all she can think about is giving you two slaps at a time until the number becomes uneven. 

Laenor sighs, rubbing his eyes. They both haven’t slept much in the last two days, too worried to even think about stopping the research for you. “Well, at least she’s alive.”

To their grand surprise, Viserys bursts out laughing. “See?” he says to his daughter. “That’s what you put me through when you were young. Ooh, you’re in for at least twelve years of worrying and suffering. Rhaenyra, my dear daughter, I’m glad to announce that your daughter came out just like you.” he then rises from his seat, laughing like a madman. “My granddaughter is the youngest dragon rider in history!” he screams, feeling as young as he hadn’t felt in a while. “Oh, boy, I’ll have to organise a whole other feast for this!”

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra just stares at the letter; she’s not surprised you sneaked out, because that’s what she would have done in the same situation, and she has to admit that there are some similarities between you and the way she was before having you. There’s just one thing that almost makes her think that you really are a younger version of her, come back from the past to haunt her for all the scares she gave her father during the years.

“Bastard,” she mutters. “My daughter, out of all the proper names she could have chosen, called her dragon Bastard.”

Oppy my baby,can you please please please take in consideration to write something about my man Cregan Stark?🥺🥺

⊹˚₊only you could have called me back home

Cregan Stark x fem!reader

-Summary:reader is from house Manderly and she meets Cregan when they are kids,during his stay at her house she reads him a book about mermaids to help him sleep during a storm.Years later he does the same thing for their children.

-I finally gave in and decided to try.This is the first time that I write for Cregan,even though i love him very much and i can’t wait to see him(I pictured in my mind Tom Taylor)so forgive me if this sucks.

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It was night,late evening.

The sky,which was usually a dark blue,was covered by a thick blanket of gray clouds that made the stars and that moon disappear,which were supposed to illuminate New Castle of White Harbor.The blue blazon with the green merman holding a trident,symbolizing House Manderly,was dancing in the wind.

A little girl,who seemed to be not older than eight years old,was observing the world and that summer storm,one of many she had seen in just a month.Sitting in her chamber,on the carpet in front of the window that brought into that small balcony,curled up and with her arms hugging her legs,she let her eyes get lost in counting the thousands of droplets that rested on that sheet of glass.

She began to stare at a drop of rain,trying to see it flow along the entire length of the window.But this one soon disappeared,bursting into smaller droplets or joining others.

For Lady Y/n Manderly,the rain made everything so fascinating.

She came closer to the glass,almost squashing her face against the door-windows and waiting for a thunder to arrive.She had never been afraid of thunderstorms,quite the contrary.She found them fascinating.She still couldn't conceive that all that noise and lights came from nature and not from something created by men.

Watching a thunderstorm was more interesting than reading a book.Her mother used to read her dozen of them to help her sleep at night,especially during storms like this one.But at the end,the books in their library all looked alike and never change final.If she didn't want to read them anymore she could just close them.While thunderstorms are unexpected and uncontrollable.But above all,always different.

People can never predict the duration or intensity of a thunderstorm.You can just try to guess or stay and observe it.And Y/n loved to see thunderstorms.

But that wasn't the case for everyone.

The little girl knew for sure that there was someone who instead hated them and had a big fear of them.A young boy,just of two years older than she was,the son of the protector of the North,had revealed that he was very afraid of storms during one.

Lord Rickon Stark had arrived to White Harbor four nights before,just in time for dinner,to discuss with Lord Desmond Manderly,Y/n father,about the union of their houses.A calm but still noisy storm was what welcomed them,alongside the blue and green blazon of New Castle.

Y/n didn't understand what was scary about those lights and noises,but she couldn't help but think about what the boy was feeling at the time.

That boy who was also her husband to be once they would be old enough to marry.They already knew each other,they had met in different occasions and places,yet they had never forged a particular bond or friendship.

Their characters were particularly different and they both knew that they would find themselves colliding easily if they became friends.Moreover, there had never been a particular opportunity to get to know each other better.They were always surrounded by their families,politicians and maidens.

They were simply two children,two heirs of big and powerful houses and one day they will become husband and wife.Nothing more,nothing less.

And yet,at that moment Y/n was just thinking.She was just thinking about Cregan.That was his name and what he had told her to call him when she had addressed him as “Lord Stark” with a polite bow.

Y/n wondered if he wasn't scared.

She remembered once,when there was a tournament in Lannisport,he didn’t showed up to see the horses in the morning when it started to rain.Once again,during a visit a the Wall he had been more restless than usual when he had heard the sound of the thunders.

But didn't the dark sky of the evening emphasize the whole thing even more?

Y/n loved night thunderstorms,she found them even more impressive.But also scary.Especially now that her mother was heavily pregnant and needed to stay in bed to rest,meaning that she couldn’t read her stories to help her sleep better.

In Y/n that fear gave a sudden adrenaline rush,but in Cregan no,she could have said it with certainty.So,after thinking about it for too long,the little girl got up,took the cloak on the chair and without even thinking anymore,she opened the window-door wide and within seconds she found herself on the balcony,while the rain was beginning to increase slowly.

That wing of the castle was where both Y/n and her brothers chambers were,the same place where young Cregan was staying,in the room right next to hers.

Y/n stayed for a while to observe the sky,and the drops of rainwater falling on the palm of her hand that she had turned upwards,fascinated by everything as a child could be.But she hadn't gone out to the balcony to admire all that,no.

If she had only wanted to do that,she would have been content to sit in front of the front door-windows as she had until then,instead of getting wet.

No,Y/n had gone out to check on Cregan.To make sure that he was alright.

Their balconies were connected,divided only by a low wall of light bricks.She had often seen the young boy on that balcony in those days,watching people occupying those crowded streets or just wanting to breathe some air.

And on those occasions they had just waved to each other politely with kind smiles.

Y/n knew that the window on that balcony led to the room where Cregan was staying.

Still in the rain,half protected by the windowsill of the upper floor,she barely reached out her neck to observe the young boy room.But it was dark and the curtains were pulled,a sign that Cregan was probably already sleeping,as he would on any night.

The little Lady wanted to call herself a fool for coming out of her room just to make sure that he was okay,a boy whose she exchanged a few words and nothing else.The same boy that one day would have been her husband but the she didn’t knew nothing about.

Yet,in some way,she was relieved.Relieved that he was not awake yet and afraid of those thunders.

A part of Y/n wanted to go back into her room and go back admiring that storm from behind the glass plate of the window,but first she got closer to the wall that separated her from her neighbor.

To,she said to herself,just to check more closely.Just to make sure.

But check what exactly?

Y/n shook her head.She really had to be out of her mind if now she was worried about an almost - stranger that seemed to not like her at all.She made to retrace her steps,when a curled figure caught her attention.

Sitting on the ground,with his shoulders leaning against the wall of that balcony and with a black cloak on him,he stood with his head hidden by the hood.Still like a statue,with his arms around his legs.Half of his body was protected under the windowsill,while the other half was being wet by that rainwater.

Y/n tilted her head to the side,confused.

“Who is that?And what are they doing?”she wondered.

Even though she knew very well who it was.It couldn't be anyone other than him.

«Cregan?»Y/n spoke without having the slightest control over her voice,attracting the attention of the boy.

Cregan raised his head,which he had kept sunk between his legs until that moment,turning his head then towards the young lady on the other side of the wall.His eyes were usually clear and calm,but now they were wide open with astonishment.

Wide in a way that Y/n couldn't but find adorable.

She ignored these thoughts and just reopened her mouth«What are you doing out here?Don't you see .. ?It's raining.»she asked with a soft tone.

“As if i hadn't noticed,Y/n”Cregan wanted to tell her with a little voice.He wouldn't have put on his cloak if he hadn't seen the rain.

But a part of him decided to keep his mouth closed.Lady Y/n was immensely pretty under the pale moonlight and wet by the rain.He had always been fascinated by her,by the way her eyes shined bright and the way she talked fast about something she liked and knew about.She made him nervous to speak whenever he was around her,she was far smarter and wiser than him even at that young age,always so kind and he was afraid to make a fool out of himself.Especially when he was still scared of thunderstorms.

Cregan didn't answer,just staring at her with his big blue eyes.

«Are you hurt?»Y/n brown furrow as she scanned his pale face to find something.

The rain kept falling and it seemed that its intensity continued to increase as the seconds passed.The trees in front of that castle moved to the right and left,driven by a force they already knew,but which they were still unable to repel.

Cregan shook his head and then spoke«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he just said.

Y/n nodded«I know that.But why are you outside?»she offered him a kind smile.

Cregan seemed to think about it for a while, undecided whether to say everything to her or keep shut up.But there was something in her,something that was pulling in from the inside.Something that was screaming at him to tell her everything that he was afraid of,because with her it would be safe,she would have kept him safe.She would’ve understood him and comforted him.

He chose the second option and returned to stare at an indefinite point of his cloak,hoping that the young lady with wet hair and sweet eyes would soon leave,leaving him alone.As he had only been until recently.

One day Cregan would have been Lord Stark,protector of the great North and he needed to learn to not be afraid of thunderstorms on his own.But Y/n presence,the little girl that would become his wife,was louder than any thunder and brighter than any light.

In fact she had no intention of leaving.

«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he found himself repeating and then adding«I really can't stand them.»he murmured.

She listened to him carefully,standing in front of that little wall,while Cregan continued to turn his back on her and look down as he spoke again:

«I can't sleep when there are thunderstorms.And being alone in the room,in the dark with only sudden flashes to illuminate,is scary.»he explained quietly.

Y/n nodded sympathetically,although she didn't find anything scary at all in his description.But for once she tried to put herself on Cregan side.

«So why don't you go to your father?My mother always makes me sleep with her when I have nightmares.»she asked with curiosity.

Cregan shook his head,clutching in that heavy cloak«He doesn’t want to.He say I have to overcome my fears sooner or later.»he said,with a glint of sadness in his eyes.

Y/n curled her nose,confused«And do you get over them by standing in the rain?»squeezing her hands to create a little bit of warmth.

This time he took some time to respond.

Then,shifting his gaze towards the horizon«It's less scary.I can see the lights of the villages and the boats passing by and I know I'm not the only one awake.I know I'm not alone.»he found himself admitting«It's less scary.Or at least I think…»

He didn't know why he was saying these things.Especially to her.For all his ten almost eleven years he had carried that fear of his with him without saying anything to anyone.Revealing his fear only to himself.And seeking comfort only in him.

A comfort that most of the time was not enough.

His father kept telling him that he was grown up by now,that he had to overcome his fear of thunderstorms by now.A fear that was too childish for his age.For the Lord he was destined to be.How could he protect people when he was the first to be scared?He needed to start acting like a man.

But how adult can a ten year old be?

Without meditating on his words,Y/n replied«And are you going to stay out here all night?Until the thunderstorm stops?»her angel face was worried.

Cregan just nodded,without staring at her directly in the eyes.The little girl made a grimace that the other could not see.It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.Yet she still didn't find the strength to leave him alone.Leave him there alone and go back to her room.

Y/n had felt,she had felt for a few seconds,almost a perceptible thread that drew her to Cregan.Maybe she was just imagining everything. Maybe it was just her childish mind that was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it was just that summer storm fault.

She didn't know,but now she felt tied to the boy with the dark cloak and blue eyes.

«Come.»Y/n voice was firm and warm.

Cregan jolted,surprised to still hear the young girl voice.He thought she had returned to the heat of her room by now.And instead there she is,on the other side of the low wall,reaching out to him with a pure smile on her face.

“She’s cute when she smiles.”Cregan immediately thought,noticing her soft eyes and all her teeth shining in the light of the torches in the street.

He also found her so reassuring.That kind of safety that he desperately needed.

«Where?»he asked confused.

Y/n smiled at him again,getting closer and reaching out her hand again,almost touching his face making him shiver.

«If you spend the night out here you're going to get sick.If you don't want to be alone,I'll keep you company.»she stated fiercely and he knew nothing would’ve changed her mind.

They were simple words.Words of a child of eight,almost nine,years old.Yet Cregan swore he had never heard such beautiful words.No one had ever given him such attention and didn't know whether or not to trust that young lady.

They had met numerous times and now they were even betrothed to each other,but they weren’t exactly friends.

And Cregan was very skeptical to those he knew very little.Especially the ones that made him feel nervous just by looking at him.

He decided to refuse Y/n invitation.

But when he made to decline the offer,the first of many flashes lit up the sky,followed by a noise so loud that raised Cregan hair,or more commonly called thunder.

The boy snapped to his feet in fear.Perhaps the idea of going out,so as not to stay in the dark of his room,had not been the best.Or maybe it was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him and only now did he find it stupid.

«So?Are you coming or not?»Y/n called for his attention again,noting the thin veil of blush on his pale cheeks.

She was younger than him by only two years,yet she was still more mature than him.She had this aura surrounding her,of someone that would have took care of him.Someone he could really start to trust and lay down his strength.A little sun,personal and only for him,to remind him that the storms he was so afraid of were only temporary while she would have been by his side forever.

Cregan found himself shaking Y/n hand,who helped him climb over the wall that divided them, and in a moment he was on the other balcony.

He crossed his eyes again with those of his future wife,who immediately answered him with another sweet smile and opened the window door,to let him enter in the warmth of her room and protect him from that storm.

Immediately closed the door behind them and,after a moment of uncertainty she spoke first«Give me your cloak,i’ll put it here with mine so that tomorrow the servants can wash them.»she told him,taking her off to remain in her pink nightgown.

Cregan blushed even more as he nodded as if in a trance and took off his dark cloak,handing it over to her and revealing a pastel-colored pajamas.

He thought it was impossible for a room to look like it owner,but Y/n bedroom was just like her:a mess of colors,books everywhere and with a pleasant warmth that made him feel safe.

«Why are you still awake?»Cregan suddenly asked,trying to not move around too much.

The little girl took two pillows from her bed and a blanket,walking to the fluffy carpet in front of the old fireplace that the servants had lighted up before she went to bed,once the thunderstorm had started.

«I like to watch the storms.»she said,patting the empty space next to her with one hand«Also,now that my mother is pregnant and my father stays up with his advisors,i need to check on her.»she continues.

Cregan looked at her carefully,the long hair falling free on her shoulders,her perfect face.He was right,she so much mature than he was,already taking care of everyone around her at such a young age,just like a proper lady should.

As he took place next to her on the pavement,still keeping a proper distance between them,Cregan realized that he didn't know anything about her.But he knew how much she loved her mother as he always saw the two of them holding hands.He didn't know if she had the same relationship with her father,who seemed to prefer her older brothers,but he still didn't have enough closeness to ask her for more information.

In fact,they had absolutely no closeness and it could be seen in the silence that fell between the two children.One of those silences that always arise in similar situations,when two people don't know each other but have to spend time together.

«Would you like to do something?»Y/n calm voice sounded even more melodious up close.

She tried to mask that awkwardness with a polite tone,asking her guest with a kind expression.

Cregan spoke little and for the rest of the time he just agreed or disagreed on a certain statement.

The younger of the two was shrinking her minds to think of some kind of game to play together, but the boy next to her would just stare at her,frowning,as if he was annoyed by that situation,while standing close to window of that room like he wanted to escape that situation.

Y/n curled her nose,bored by that sudden superior attitude that Cregan was carrying on himself.

«Look,you can still go back in the rain if you prefer.»she told him,with a sour tone.

She felt bad to see him frightened by that thunderstorm,but if he didn't even show her a minimum of gratitude or a spirit of collaboration, then he could very well leave.Y/n was a sunny child,always with a smile on her face and ready to raise the morale of anyone who needed it.

But“This boy is really unpleasant”she thought.

Cregan crossed his arms to his chest,squeezing his eyes and staring at her,offended and angry at the same time.He thought that he shouldn’t have accepted her invitation and that both their fathers had made a mistake by promising them.They would never get along.

He could very well go back to his room and overcome that storm on his own,as he had always done until then.He didn’t need Y/n help.He made a grimace in the direction of the little girl,who responded to the gesture by raising her eyes to the sky.

But when he was about to open the window door and return to his room,without his dark cloak,a flash illuminated the sky and his face.

Cregan eyes went wide,as he was falling backwards and ending up on the ground on his butt as he waited for the arrival of the thunder that did not take long to arrive.His lower lip trembled,while he couldn't move any muscle.

He hated how thunderstorms could do this to him.He hated how they could make him tremble and frighten.

“They are a normal thing,dictated by nature”his father had always told him.

Yet Cregan didn't believe it.He continued to hate thunderstorms.

And something told him that this fear of his would never go away.

«Cregan.... are you all right?»he heard a soft voice behind his back.

Cregan looked up and saw Y/n standing on her knees on the carpet and he only remembered at that moment of her presence.

The boy gasped,looking for an answer.But before he could speak,another flash lit up the room,and before the thunder could be heard,Cregan had already put his hands on his ears.

The arrogant facade,which he had previously put on,had now completely crumbled, revealing his insecure and frightened side.

Y/n didn't know what to do.

The annoyed face she had a little while ago,was gone.Now she was really worried for him.She just wanted to find a way to distract him,and to put an end to that clash of lights that illuminated the room.

Cregan did not move,with his head resting on his bent knees,and the palms of his hands were still covering his ears,in the vain hope of not hearing that almost metallic and shackled noises.

«It’s alright,don't worry.»Y/n tried to reassure him.But it seemed that no one could move the young boy.

«They usually just make a big noise and then they go away.»she continued with a reassuring voice getting closer to him.

But Cregan was still shaking, scared,and Y/n didn't know what to do.She was never scared of thunderstorms.She would have liked to hold him tight in a hug,to drive away all his fear.But she knew that if she did,she would only make things worse.

In the meantime,Cregan continued to make himself small,smaller and smaller,curled up almost on himself on that light pavement.

«I mean…deep down it's just water,isn't it?Water and lights.As if it were an ocean... and the oceans are beautiful,aren't they,Cregan?»she asked with a hint of hope.

Y/n was used to the water,she lived near the sea and she had grew up running up and down on her fathers boats with her brothers.Her mothers read her stories about fishes,sailors,mermen and mermaids.

And while he did not respond,too busy controlling his fear,Y/n came up with an idea.

«I know what to do!»she almost screamed,catching Cregan attention and shicking around the room,as if looking for something.

The boy looked at her confused,forgetting – but only for a short time – of the thunderstorm.

«There you are.»Y/n exhaled,almost relieved.

Cregan blinked,observing the more confusion she had created throughout that room,the books scattered on the floor and the cabinets wide open,just for that medium-sized old book she now held in her hands,with a proud and satisfied smile.He didn't understand what use that book could have,but he didn't breathe,limiting himself to observing the young girl sitting carefully next to him and opening it.

And then millions of billions of fishes began to swim between the old pages.Cregan mouth widened into an “o”, but he quickly closed it again before Y/n could notice his astonishment.It's just a very simple book of fairy tales,he said to himself.

Yet,in some way,it had distracted him.

«If you lie down on the bed,you can see them better.»Y/n spoke,making herself comfortable on her bed and starting to turning the pages.

Cregan grimaced,watching how she was smiling.That wasn’t proper.

«Why should I lie down-»yet another thunder«Alright... I lie down.»he immediately changed his mind.

He hurriedly took the steps that separated him from that bed,before sinking into the lavander sheets that smelled of flowers and vanilla.

Y/n by his side smiled at him.But Cregan didn’t,remaining impassive and jolting at every thunder.She closed the curtains around her bad,only the soft light of the candle on the nightstand remain.The 'lightning' factor had been solved.

«They're beautiful,aren’t they?»she said,tracing with her fingers the different fishes.

They were.Their shapes,colors,sizes were mesmerizing.

Cregan didn't know to answer again.Those bright,fishes seemed to moved quickly on all those pages in a continuous flow.They were simple,so damn simple,yet they had caught the his attention.

«Yes,they ar–»he tried to agree with her,but here's yet another thunder made him jump out of fear.

Y/n by his side watched him close his eyes and plug his ears with both hands.

She had to find a way to distract him from the sounds too.

«You see him?»she turned the page and pointed to a strange figure on the right corner.

A man with a tail of a fish.

Cregan turned to her,taking his hands off his ears and moving his eyes on what Y/n finger was pointing to.

«It’s a merman?»he sounded uncertain,the figure on the book looked like the blazon of house Manderly.

Y/n nodded her head confirming his question«They said that he loved another mermaid and when the pirates had captured her,driven by grief,he turned his body in marble creating White Harbor.»she explained him,showing him another picture of the place where now she was living.

Cregan looked confused,his eyebrows raising«Why would he do that?»

The girl next to him sighed,her shoulder touching his,the sweet perfume of her hair was tickling his nose.She was warm and soft and made his stomach twist and his hands sweat.

«I guess that he couldn’t live without her and preferred to die.»she simply answered«Years ago i used to cry when my mother read me this story.»she continued as she flipped the page.

In the dim light,he could see that her eyes were a little glassy and only now he remembered that just like him,she was still a child with fears like him and stories that made her cry in her mother arms.

«How about her?»Cregan eyes and hand went to point to a female picture.

A mermaid with a red tale and long wet red hair on her shoulders,sitting on a rock near the coast.Her beautiful expression seemed pained,her mouth opened as if she was saying something.In the distance seemed that a storm was coming,the waves crashing into the shore,dark clouds on the horizon.

Y/n smiled,stretching the book out to him so that he could take a better look«She was a princess that fell in love with a sailor.Her father,the King of the fourteen seas had forbidden their love.»she started to explain with a soft tone«They could see each other only on the beginning of the Long Summer,when her father was away in the ocean»she said.

Cregan yawned«And how did they knew when the Long Summer came?»he seemed genuinely interested now.

«The storm.»Y/n quickly answered«It was her way to let him know that she was waiting for him.She was calling him back to her.»in her expression he could find a hint of teasing.

He shuddered,the thing that scared him the most,for this children book,was just a mermaid calling for her lover.

«But how does he know?»he asked again and his voice was becoming softer,his eyes closing a bit,yet he stayed very curious about the story.

«Does he know what?»Y/n whispered.

«That it was her.»he continued.

«Because he had loved no else but her in his life.Only her could have called him back home.»she explained and he swore he could’ve seen her eyes shine bright.

«I hate her father.»Cregan mumbled.

He found it stupid,it was just a fairy tale to help people sleep,but if the mermaid father didn’t get in the way tonight he would’ve been scared.And that’s also must had been the reason why she wasn’t afraid of them.

Y/n giggles made him blush,as she shook a little onto him«But you know what’s the best part of it?For the rest of the summer there wouldn’t be any other storms,just the bright sun as the two of them could be together.»she whispered.

It was a way to say that after every thunderstorm that would’ve been the sun.Always.

«Wasn’t she scared of her father founding out that they were still together?»his voice was sleepy and his eyes heavy.

Y/n shook her head«Love is stronger than fear.»she stated«Don’t you find it beautiful?»she said then,a dreamy look in her eyes.

There was no answer.

Y/n turned to him,finding him with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open.His chest would rise and fall at a regular pace,while his slight breathing could be heard.She smiled at that sight as she stroked his hair.

Cregan had fallen asleep.Y/n was satisfied.Satisfied and happy.

She succeeded in her intent,help him and distract him from the thing that scared him the most.She wondered what Cregan would do at this time if Y/n hadn’t invited him?

He would probably still have been awake.Because the thunderstorm hadn't stopped,no,it had never stopped.The mermaid was still calling for her lover.

The flashes,however,had mixed in the images on the pages and the noise of thunder had been lost among the stories of Y/n mermaids.Cregan had been so busy observing those images drawn on the book and hating the King of the seas,that he completely forgot about the thunderstorm.

Y/n closed the book,placed it carefully on her nightstand and reached out to grab a thin sheet at the bottom of their feet and covered the young boy who slept well by her side.

«Good night,Cregan.Tomorrow there will be the sun,i promise you.»she whispered kissing his forehead and drifting to sleep too.

And for the first time,after so many years,he slept.After so many years,Cregan was sleeping peacefully with a thunderstorm.

On any day in the early summer,ten years later,Lady Y/n Stark of Winterfell was laying in the bed she shared with her Lord husband.

Wife and husband,that’s what her and Cregan had been for the past four years.But before pronouncing their vows in front of the Seven and their families,they had became the best of friends.

When did they start calling each other that way?When did they become friends?Could they find a precise moment when they had gone from being strangers to even best friends?Were they able to establish the exact moment when their bond changed?

No,they couldn’t.

Maybe it was the year after that fateful rainy night.Maybe it was the next month when Cregan had spent all of his moments and attention in Y/n presence,falling in love with her more and more.

Or maybe it had happened at the exact time their hands had touched,when Y/n had proposed to be together in that thunderstorm,to mark the point of change for their relationship.

They didn't know that though.Neither of them knew for sure.But they didn't even ask.They fell in love with each other before they got married and that was that mattered.There are bonds that are born before the interlocking of the hands and connections that are born before touching each other.It was just pretty to think that,all this time,there was some kind of invisible string that was tying them together.

Anyone who cared for Cregan had to understand that he needed a little looking after.Someone who could help him sleep,who reminded him that he was just human and that he could still a child sometimes.And Y/n understood that,she held him gently,far more gently that anyone ever did.She stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep at night,she stood next to him to greet the arrival of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and supported him in his decision to fight for the Dragon Queen.

All because she loved him more than anything and because he loved her.To love and to be loved was to rest.

Yet,now that Cregan was away,on the Wall of the great north with the young prince,Y/n couldn’t seem to find sleep.It was raining heavily outside,the long summer had arrived earlier that year and a violent storm was what welcomed it.

The pale rays of the moon filtered through the clouds,the wind was blowing against the windows,the lights of the lightning shaped the dark room she was in.

Cregan had ruined her,she thought to herself,ever since they got married and started to share the bed she couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t next to her,holding her in his arms,kissing her lips softly and whispering how much he loved her.But she knew that,with the war at their doorstep,he was busy with the young prince Jacaerys who came two weeks ago in ask for the help of the North.

Her husband was a man of honor,the Lord of Winterfell that never forget his oaths.

When a particular loud thunder broke through the quietness of the castle,Y/n got up from her bed.Taking the candle on the nightstand,she started walking down the dark corridor to reach her children chambers.Her sons,Rickon and Brandon,only four and two years old,looked exactly like their father:true men of the north but with their mother eyes and kind smile.

Just like their father they were scared of storms,it took her hours to put them to bed that night since the first drop of rain had hit the ground.They both reminded her the first time that she had spent with Cregan during one of those,curling up on her as she read them one of her books to help them sleep.

But that night was different,after two weeks of writing letters and longing,Cregan was finally home.As she quietly opened the door,the candle that Y/n was holding in her hand almost fell,when she saw her husband sitting on a chair in between the two beds where their sons seemed to sleep so soundly and well.

He was still wearing his dark fire coat and his long were wet,the tip of his nose red from the cold,while in his hands he was holding a old fairy tale book that they both knew very well.As if he had heard her behind the door,he smiled,and his face was like the sun.

He had came back as soon as he had heard the first sounds of the thunders,like a sailor bewitched by the melody of a siren voice.His sons were the first ones to greet him,running barefoot down the hallways to reach comfort in their father strong arms.

Cregan had been there before,his heart clenched in his chest as he dried the tears off their eyes and saw the fear on their little faces.But he knew what he had to do,unlike his father,he would always be there for help his children no matter what.

«The mermaid had waited all winter for her lover return,her voice guided him through the storm.»his voice was quiet and soft like a warm blanket«With the first lights of the new sun,he came back to her.»in his hands the hold book.

His oldest son yawned«But wasn’t he afraid of the storm?»Rickon asked,holding his teddy bear closer to his chest.

«He was.»Cregan nodded«But you know what is stronger than fear?»he whispered,noticing his younger son fast asleep.

Rickon shook his head,his eyes fighting to urge to close«What?»he chirped.

«Love.»his father simply answered«The idea of coming back to his lover was stronger than the fear of the storm.»Cregan stood up,caressing his son head.

«One day i want to love someone this much.Just like you love mama.»Rickon murmured sleepy,with a little smile on his face.

«And you will.»he promised«One day you will have someone that will help you overcome your fears and that will always call you back home when you are wondering too far.»he kissed both of his sons forehead.

Cregan was still a little nervous about storms,but that night he was finally back home as sun on water.Y/n reached for him and skimmed her hands over the light of him.

«I missed you.»she whispered on his lips,kissing him sweetly.

Cregan was holding her in his arms,gently caressing her hair,his forehead on hers«I saw the storm and i knew.»he smiled,trailing his lips on her chin and cheeks.

Y/n shivered,not only because his icy fingers were rubbing up and down her back,but because only her could understand the meaning of those words.The intimacy of having something only them could share with each other.

«So you came back early because of the storm?»she giggled as his beard tickled her beautiful face.

He smiled even more,tightening his grip on her smaller body«I came back because of you.Only you could have called me back home.»he whispered placing a kiss on her lips.

The smell of her hair,the taste of her mouth,the feeling of her skin seemed to have gotten inside of him or in the air all around him.She had become a physical necessity,not only to ease his fear,but to have someone to come back to.

She placed her head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat beating alongside hers.They stood there for a moment more,embracing each other,in the dark corridor.

«Do you hear it?»Y/n softly asked suddenly.

«Hear what?»Cregan voice was low.

«The sound of the rain.»she explained,closing her eyes and relaxing against his touch.

For a while they just listened to the incessant ticking of the rain,while a thousand fish continued to swim on the pages of their book.

But suddenly a flash illuminated the corridor,followed by the due thunder.

Y/n jolted,expecting her husband to do the same.

Yet this was not the case«Aren't you afraid of thunderstorms anymore?»she teased him.

«How can I be afraid of thunderstorms when I'm by your side?»he said,caressing her cheek lovingly.

«Tomorrow there will be the sun.»she smiled against him,brighter than any light.

She was right,after the storm there was always the warm weather and Y/n was the golden sun at the horizon.That one thing that gave him hope for a brighter future,the only one that could bring him back home.Because his sleepless nights are better with her than any nights could ever be alone.

the heir and the wolf

summary: Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir is a difficult thing, but what happens when you also become one of the Realm's most prized posessions?

pairings: cregan stark x velaryon!reader, reader x platonic targs/velaryon

i. the dear daughter (2.8k) - At one-and-twenty and eight-and-ten, barely a year after their marriage, Ser Laenor Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen welcomed their first child, a daughter, into the world. The girl immediately became dear to the whole court, coddled and spoiled by all, but mostly by her grandsire, King Viserys I. The man saw in his granddaughter her mother, and as the girl grew to look like his late wife, Aemma Arryn, it became even clearer that he doted on her more than he did to his own children or his other grandchildren.

ii. about children and trouble (8.2k) - It is reported that in the year 121 AC, when the Realm’s Jewel was only six summers old, her hatchling Merrax was eaten by the Cannibal in a strange turn of events that found him moving from Dragonstone to the Dragonpit in King’s Landing. Princess Rhaenyra demanded to have the dragon’s head cut, but as nobody ever tried nor dared to get close to the Cannibal, it was impossible to do it. Thus, her daughter took the matters into her own hands.

iii. little big lady (5.0k) - Court whispers tell us that during her third pregnancy, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen was particularly sensitive. She managed to cover it up pretty well, apparently, but she had one weak spot: her daughter, her firstborn and heir, who later on witnessed her little brother Prince Joffrey's birth by request of her mother. Despite openly disliking the experience, it is said that the Realm’s Jewel insisted on being present to future labours in case things went downhill — and she did, attending her mother in giving birth to all her future children.

vi. dragons' scars (tbd) - And after the events that happened during Lady Laena’s funeral at Driftmark, two dragons were left scarred.

more to come!

extras:

snippet cut from chapter three

sneak peak at reader and cregan's baby number #1

ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰.

Cregan Stark x Reader.

Summary: You become jealous when you see a serving girl attempt to seduce your husband.

Based on request: Hello love! I'd like to request a Cregan Stark x Reader piece where she sees him being touched on by some prostitutes at a feast, and she gets jealous. Smut or not, I'll leave it up to you.

Warnings: SMUT (mdni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, mutual orgasm.

Author's note: This was the last request in my inbox, so please feel free to send a request. 🖤

You return to the feast after putting your son to bed, leaving him in the capable hands of your dedicated servants. Upon entering the hall, you are greeted by the lively melodies reverberating within the stone walls. Some guests are dancing, and everyone appears to be enjoying the refreshments provided.

Cregan is seated at the head of the Great Hall. His solemn expression softens slightly as he notices your return. He raises his mug of beer to his lips and watches as you navigate through the crowd.

“My lord, would you like me to refill your mug?” one of the serving girls approaches Cregan.

He glances up at the serving girl before returning his gaze to you. You are stuck in a conversation with a lord you have mentioned disliking. A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Cregan sets his mug down and pushes it toward the girl, not bothering to take his eyes off you.

The serving girl exaggeratedly bends over the table to refill Cregan’s mug, her provocative eyes fixed on him.

His smile fades from his face as he notices the girl’s exaggerated movements from the corner of his eye. He chooses to ignore her obvious attempts to seduce him, clearly uninterested. The smile that was there before reappears as he thinks to himself, as if the girl is even a sliver of the woman you are.

“Congratulations on your son’s second name day, my lord,” the serving girl makes another attempt to capture Cregan’s attention, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Cregan responds gruffly, his gaze briefly falling on the girl’s hand on his shoulder. Unfazed, he reaches for his now-refilled mug of beer and lifts it to his mouth, taking a sip from it. His gaze returns to you as he speaks in a composed tone. “You may take your hand off me, girl.”

Your eyes harden as you make your way through the crowd, watching the serving girl attempt to seduce Cregan from a distance.

Cregan catches your darkened gaze from across the room, noticing the hardness in your eyes. He raises an eyebrow in response, as if daring you to say something.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking my seat,” you say as you reach the table, a hint of irritation in your voice as you address the serving girl.

The serving girl turns her head in your direction, and her seductive demeanour immediately falters. Her hand falls from Cregan’s shoulder as she realizes she is in your way. “Of course, my Lady,” she says, her voice lacking any sort of challenge. She steps aside so you can sit in the empty chair next to Cregan.

Instead of taking your seat, you approach Cregan and sit on his lap.

Cregan’s lips twitch into an amused smile. His hand immediately finds its way to your hip, his fingers gently caressing your skin through the material of your dress. He leans back in his chair and brings his mug to his mouth, taking another sip.

He lowers the mug from his mouth before speaking, his voice deep and husky. “Feeling possessive, are we, Lady Stark?”

“I am merely claiming what is rightfully mine,” you murmur as you watch the serving girl scurry away.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound of it nearly lost in the noise of the feast. Cregan’s hand on your hip tightens its grip slightly. “Rightfully yours, indeed,” he agrees quietly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

-

The wait until all your guests had left was tedious, but here you were, dragging Cregan back to your chamber. He stays silent as you drag him through the dimly lit corridors. He does not question where you are taking him because he already knows.

With each step, his pulse quickens in anticipation, his mind growing more and more clouded with thoughts of you. He wants you, needs you, yearns for you. He needs to feel you.

“Out, all of you. You are dismissed for the night,” you order the servants in your chamber as you drag Cregan inside. The servants, who were tidying your chamber and preparing it for the night, drop their tasks and quickly exit the chamber, leaving the two of you alone.

You close the distance between yourself and Cregan, pinning him against the door. Your fingers fumble to undo him of his cloak.

Cregan’s eyes darken with a mixture of anticipation and desire as he watches your fingers fumble with the clasps of his cloak. As his cloak falls to the ground with a thud, your hands move to the back of his head, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips meet yours hungrily, the intensity of the kiss almost overwhelming. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you closer, wanting to feel the heat of your body against his own.

“Stupid girl, thinking she could seduce you,” you murmur against Cregan’s lips as you continue to undress him.

Cregan’s breath hitches as you speak, your words sending a shiver through his body. “She never stood a chance,” he agrees in a deep voice, his hands moving to the laces of your dress, loosening them with practiced fingers.

“You know I have no interest in other women,” he adds, a hint of amusement in his tone as he pushes your dress off your shoulders, his eyes wandering over your exposed shift.

You hum in response as you lift Cregan’s blue tunic over his head, your fingers hooking into his breeches and tugging him with you as you walk backward to the bed.

“Off,” you gesture to his breeches as you crawl onto the bed.

Cregan’s eyes darken at your command. He obeys without hesitation, unfastening the laces of his breeches and pushing them down along with his smallclothes. He follows you onto the bed with a sense of urgency, his body craving yours. He positions himself between your legs, his hands roaming over your thighs, pushing the bunched-up fabric of your shift even higher up.

Using all your strength, you manage to push Cregan onto his back. You move to straddle him, lifting your shift up over your head and tossing it to the side. The sight of you straddling him, bare and exposed, leaves Cregan breathless. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every curve, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips.

“Gods,” he groans, his fingers digging into your flesh, his voice strangled with desire.

You lean forward, hovering your face above Cregan’s. “You’re mine,” you murmur seductively. Your hardened nipples brushing against Cregan’s chest.

“I’m yours,” he agrees immediately, his voice rough with desire.

You sit back up and raise your hips, guiding Cregan’s hardened length towards your entrance. You gasp as you sink down on his length, your eyes fluttering shut at the familiar stretch.

Cregan’s head falls back against the furs, a guttural moan escaping his lips as you flutter around his length.

Your trembling hands rest on his muscular chest, stabilizing yourself as you begin to ride him at a slow pace.

Cregan’s heartbeat quickens beneath your hands. He watches you with a sense of awe and admiration, his eyes filled with longing. His hands are on your hips guiding your movements. He wants more, needs more.

You pick up your pace, your thrusting turning into desperate grinding, your face scrunching up with pleasure.

His hands tighten on your hips, and a low growl escapes from the back of his throat. He watches you intently, his eyes drinking in every expression you make. He craves to make you come undone. He plants his feet into the bed, thrusting up into you.

You slump forward, a whimper escaping your throat as Cregan thrusts up into you. Your head gently rests against the crook of his neck.

Cregan’s arms immediately wrap around you, holding you close against his chest. He can feel the heat of your breath against his skin, your body trembling against his.

“Oh gods,” you gasp as your orgasm washes over you, your walls clenching around him.

The feeling of you clenching around him pushes Cregan over the edge. He buries his face in your shoulder, groaning lowly as he spills his seed inside of you.

You chuckle against Cregan’s neck, your breath coming out in shallow puffs. Your tired body slumps on top of him.

Cregan wraps his arms around you, holding you close. His fingers gently trace patterns along the curve of your back.

“I’m yours,” he whispers softly.

“You’re mine,” you repeat his words.

Cregan cranes his neck to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “Only yours,” he confirms, holding you tighter against him.

Aegon Targaryen - Lessons

Summary - Aegon's High Valyrian lessons take a tempting turn when his wife, sensing his frustration, offers an irresistible incentive, for every correct answer, another piece of her clothing falls away, turning language practice into an enticing game of lust.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!), strong language

Word count - 2496

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Aegon, focus," I gently chided, placing the book on the settee beside him. He was already seated, but his gaze had wandered far from the pages.

"I can't," he admitted with a sigh, the frustration clear in his voice. "It's so difficult. I don't think I can learn any more." 

There was a sadness in his tone that tugged at my heart. I immediately softened, guilt pricking at me for being too harsh.

"Of course you can, my love," I said, my voice tender now. 

He was already wrestling with his own insecurities, haunted by the fear that he might never live up to the expectations placed upon him. The last thing he needed was for his wife, his one true sanctuary, to add to that burden.

He looked up at me, curiosity flickering in his eyes as I reached for the book again. "You just need... an incentive," I suggested, a playful edge creeping into my voice.

His interest piqued, and he leaned in closer. 

"What does naejot mean?" I asked, watching him closely.

He hesitated, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Um... forward?" he answered, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

I pursed my lips, considering whether or not to correct him. Instead, I decided to let it slide.

"Yes," I said, smiling warmly as his face lit up with relief, though a small part of me noted that he wasn't entirely confident.

I placed the book in my lap and slowly, deliberately, reached behind my head to untie the ribbon holding my hair. I took my time, letting the ribbon slide through my fingers before my hair finally cascaded around my shoulders. 

His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flickering across his features as he inhaled the faint scent of lavender from my loosened hair.

He gave me a questioning look, but I waved him off. "What does zaldrizes mean?" I asked next.

This time, a confident smirk curled his lips. "Dragon," he answered, and I nodded approvingly.

"Perhaps you don't need an incentive after all," I teased, but he shook his head eagerly, clearly unwilling to give up whatever reward he imagined.

"Fine," I mused, standing up slowly. His eyes followed my every movement, and I could see the anticipation growing in his expression. "But just in case..." 

I began to slowly pull off one stocking, inch by inch, watching as his breath hitched slightly. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently on me.

"For every word or phrase you get correct, I'll remove a piece of clothing," I explained, my voice low, almost a purr. His eyes darkened with desire, and I saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his focus unwavering.

He leaned back on the settee, smug satisfaction evident in his expression. 

"Well, your ribbon shouldn't have counted as a piece of clothing," he pointed out, a hint of mischief in his voice.

I clicked my tongue in admonishment. "Hush or I'll only remove one stocking and make this last much longer," I warned, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Let's continue, then," I said, resuming my seat. "What does lentor mean?"

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "Maybe... slow?" he guessed, but there was uncertainty in his voice, as though he wasn't sure if he was recalling it correctly.

I shook my head slowly, watching as disappointment flashed across his face. 

"Not quite," I murmured, toying with the edge of my gown. His eyes darted down to the fabric, but I didn't make a move to remove it yet.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "I thought that was it."

"Patience," I soothed, leaning forward just enough to let my hair brush against his arm. "You'll get there." He nodded, though he still seemed frustrated with himself. 

"Try again," I encouraged. "What about drīvose?"

This time, his brow furrowed deeply. "All?" he asked, but his tone was more hesitant than ever.

I gave him a sympathetic smile, shaking my head. "No, love. It means 'actually.'"

He let out a soft groan, slumping back against the settee with an air of resignation. "I'm never going to get this right," he muttered, his frustration evident.

"Yes, you will," I insisted, my tone firm but gentle. 

I stood up again, slowly beginning to unlace the front of my gown. His eyes snapped to the movement, and I saw a spark of determination light up in his gaze.

"One more try," I offered, my voice soft as I let the laces loosen just enough to hint at what lay beneath. "What is 'all men must serve'?"

He hesitated, his eyes flicking between my fingers and the partially unlaced gown. "Valar dohaeris?" he ventured, his voice tinged with doubt.

I smiled, pleased this time. "Yes," I purred, slipping one shoulder free of the gown, allowing it to hang tantalizingly. His breath caught, and I saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.

"See? You're getting there," I encouraged, sitting back down as the gown slipped off fully revealing the sparse clothing I had left. His eyes were locked on me now, the earlier frustration fading as he focused on the incentive.

"Maybe we should always practice this way," he suggested his voice husky with need.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Ñuho glaeso hūrus," I said, presenting him with a phrase that I knew had tripped him up before.

His brows knitted together in concentration. "Something of my life," he offered, but his uncertainty was evident.

I sighed softly, a playful hint of disappointment in my expression. "Close, but not quite," I teased, my fingers brushing against the hem of my slip, causing his eyes to darken further with desire.

"But I was close, wasn't I?" he pressed, clearly eager to move forward.

"Close, but close doesn't count," I replied with a smirk, leaving the slip where it was, not offering any further reward just yet.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is impossible."

"It's not," I reassured him, leaning in just enough to let my lips brush against his ear. "You just need to focus a little more."

He closed his eyes as he tried to recall the words. "Star?" he guessed, then shook his head. "No, moon?"

I nodded encouragingly as the slip glided off my body, leaving me in nothing but my small clothes. His eyes were practically devouring me now, but I could see the satisfaction in his gaze as well, knowing he had earned each step forward.

"One last phrase," I said, my voice soft and inviting. "If you get this right, you'll have earned your full reward."

He nodded, his focus entirely on me now.

"North, east, south, and west," I prompted, knowing this set of words had always been a challenge for him.

His expression fell for a moment, the directions always causing him grief. But he took a deep breath, determination shining in his eyes. 

"Jelmor," he began, and I nodded eagerly. "Ñāqon, Vẽzor, and..." He trailed off, a look of panic crossing his face as he struggled to remember the last word.

"Come on, my love," I urged softly. "You know this."  My fingers slipped just beneath the waistband of my small clothes, teasing him further.

"Endia!" he suddenly exclaimed, a triumphant smile breaking across his face.

I glanced at the book to confirm, then smiled warmly, the last of my clothing slipping to the floor. He grinned, the excitement in his eyes mirroring my own.

I tossed the book aside and moved toward him, straddling his lap as I rested my hands on his shoulders. My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as his hands moved to undress himself.

But I stopped him, placing my hands over his, holding them in place as he looked up at me, puzzled. 

"Avy jorrāelan," I murmured, my voice soft and full of affection.

A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes warm as he replied, "I love you too."

Only then did I let go, allowing him to remove his pants as I quickly undid his tunic. The reward had been hard-earned, but it was worth every moment of the struggle.

He began kissing down the curve of my neck, his lips warm and insistent against my skin. A soft moan escaped me as I started to grind against his lap, teasing him with the promise of what was to come.

"Now, Ñuhor līr gūrēnna," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he grabbed me firmly under my thighs. I will take what is mine.

In one fluid motion, he flipped us over with surprising ease, a quiet squeal of delight escaping my lips as I found myself beneath him. 

"Yes, you shall," I murmured back, my voice breathless with anticipation as his hands began their exploratory journey across my body. 

He leaned back slightly, hoisting me up toward him, his hands still firmly gripping my thighs as he positioned me just above his hard, twitching cock. The anticipation in his eyes was almost unbearable.

"Feels so much better when you've earned it," he gasped out, his voice a mixture of triumph and raw desire. 

As he guided me down onto him, I let out a soft gasp, my body trembling with pleasure. I nodded eagerly, unable to form words, lost in the sensation of him filling me.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he began to move. His composure was slipping, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through us both. 

He set a steady pace, his control evident, but I could feel the tension building within him, the struggle to maintain that control.

After a few intense minutes, I couldn't resist any longer. My fingers tangled in his hair, playing with the strands in a way I knew drove him wild. His breath hitched, and he faltered for just a moment, the rhythm of his thrusts growing more erratic.

"You feel so good," he whispered in my ear, his voice hoarse with need. 

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me, and I clung to his shoulders for support. My walls squeezed around his cock, drawing a low chuckle from him. 

"Come on, my love," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck me like I've earned it."

I met his gaze, my eyes dark with passion, and nodded as I began to move with him, matching his rhythm, giving him everything he had worked so hard for.

The room was filled with the raw, intimate sounds of our bodies coming together. 

Our moans and gasps mingled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his cock driving in and out of me, the intensity of our passion echoing in every corner.

"Fuck, Aegon, yes... right there," I cried out, my voice trembling with need as he adjusted his angle. 

The head of his cock found that perfect spot deep inside me, and the pleasure was so intense it felt like stars were exploding behind my eyes. My body arched into him, desperate for more.

He gasped, his breathing ragged as his control began to slip. 

"I'm close," he managed to say, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. 

His hands tightened around my waist, gripping me like I was his lifeline as his thrusts grew increasingly desperate, the rhythm turning sloppy as he chased his release.

I could feel the tension building within him, his body trembling with the effort to hold on just a little longer. 

"Aegon, let go," I whispered, my voice soft but urgent as I encouraged him, my own body hurtling toward the edge. "I'm with you."

He groaned, the sound guttural and raw as he buried his face in my neck, his pace faltering. I moved with him, our bodies perfectly in sync as we rode the waves of pleasure together, the intensity overwhelming.

The heat between us reached its peak, and with one final, deep thrust, Aegon's body tensed, and I felt him shudder against me, his release spilling into me as he gasped my name. 

The sensation sent me spiralling over the edge, my climax crashing through me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my body trembling as the pleasure consumed me, every nerve alight with ecstasy.

For a moment, the world around us seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of us entwined in the aftermath of our passion. I held him close, my fingers gently stroking his hair as we caught our breath.

After a while, I broke the comfortable silence, a playful glint in my eyes. "So, aren't I a good teacher?" I asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I teasingly ruffled his hair.

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, vibrating through both of our bodies. His fingers found mine, intertwining them with a gentle but firm grip. He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my knuckles. 

"The best," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looked at me. "Your methods are rather... motivating."

"Perhaps I should start teaching others, then," I teased, my tone light and mischievous as I watched his reaction.

His playful expression faltered for a moment, and he tutted, shaking his head in mock disapproval. A possessive glint flashed in his eyes as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"Not with those methods, you aren't," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "Those are strictly reserved for me."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for him. 

"Oh, is that so?" I teased back, arching an eyebrow as I pretended to consider his words. He nodded, his expression serious despite the humour dancing in his eyes. 

"Absolutely," he confirmed, pulling me even closer, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "I'm not sharing this with anyone. You're mine."

His words, though spoken in jest, carried an undercurrent of sincerity that made my heart skip a beat. I could see the love and devotion in his gaze, the same feelings that mirrored in my own heart. 

"And you're mine," I whispered back, leaning in to brush my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

The kiss deepened slow and tender, a gentle reminder of the connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, we were both smiling, the world outside our little cocoon fading further into the background.

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as his fingers continued to play with mine. 

"You know," I mused, "if this is how our lessons go, I think I'll need to give you a lot more of them."

He chuckled, the sound low and content. "I think I'll need them," he agreed, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "After all, I'm a very eager student when you're the one teaching."

We lay there in comfortable silence, our bodies still intertwined. There was no need for words; the connection between us spoke volumes.

All that mattered was this moment, this closeness, and the knowledge that we belonged to each other, in every possible way.

A/n - Another fav, this was so fun to write asw (the idea came to me from a movie I seen years ago called 'Loser') 😭😭

I am soooo in love with this man

— THE DRAGON AND THE DOE

PAIRING — Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader // Baratheon!OC

SUMMARY — You were betrothed to Aemond since he was nine and you were fifteen. You have never liked the idea until you meet him again nine years later when he pays you a visit on his dragon.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Baratheon. Now, I haven’t read the books but I lurked around the wiki a lot because I am not afraid of spoilers. Still, my image of Aemond was based purely on some crumbs I have found on the wiki and from what I have seen on the show so far. And judging by the way he treats Helaena, I assume he would be a devoted lord husband. 😇

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, Reader is 6 years older (self-indulgent much?), it starts when they’re both underage but they don’t even interact then, Reader is Team Green (obviously)

WORD COUNT — 5,540

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

Seguir leyendo

HI, i love your work about the marauders and hotd and i was wondering if u would write cregan stark fluff with jealous reader but if u don't want to its okay. HAVE A GREAT DAY

-Cregan Stark x reader

{House Ryswell seeks an audience with Cregan Stark, and their daughter seems to take quite a liking to him}

I got extremely carried away with this, I hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

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It's strange how time can seem so slow when your mood has been soured by something so silly, something that you're sure you have made up in your own mind, to defend the feeling of this unadulterated jealousy that slithers its way at your heart tugging on it every so often.

Foolish, you think, although you're not quite sure what exactly it is about this whole situation you find, foolish. Is it the way, Cregan smiles at the ever-beautiful Lady Darla of house Rsywell? or is it because your mind has convinced you that Cregan would break your trust like that? maybe, it's her ever thinking she stood a chance with your husband. Whatever it might be it's sure is foolish.

But it's real nonetheless, horrible and very real. The jealousy that bubbles deep within you only fuels the doubts that plague your mind, and those same thoughts conjure another dreadful feeling, something that pinches at your heart as you watch Lady Ryswell place a dainty hand on Cregan's arm, insecurity it finds an unwelcome home within your chest.

Despite sitting so close to Cregan, you still feel miles away, watching him converse, lost, within his own world with the Lady next to him. You feel ignored and as you glance around the room you're sure that everyone else sees it too, you've been pushed aside like some sickly wife that's nearing her time.

It's only when you hear Cregan's warm chuckle do you look over to the pair once again, her hand sits higher up on his arm, there's something about the sight that breaks you. As if it couldn't get any worse Drala turns to you with a smile that makes you sick to your stomach, warm and inviting.

"Your Husband is so charming Lady Stark" she giggles, her hand still against his arm, and you swear she squeezes it ever so softly.

Slamming your cup down against the wooden table, with more vigour than you had meant, you clear your throat, "Yes he is- charmed me right into marriage" It gets a laugh or two from the others is House Ryswell.

Drala's mother even leans to you whispering a humoured, "My husband could learn a thing or two" You watch as she glances over at him with a teary smile, he seemed quite caught up with gawking at the maids, "That man knows nothing of charm" she spits before leaning back into her chair.

Cregan's hand rests against your thigh, and for a second, your racing mind seems to calm down, it's as if you can finally breathe, and then he pulls away going back to what must be a riveting conversation with Darla. You've had enough of this torture, no longer being able to bare it you call for Lyra, keeping a hushed tone as she bends down to you slightly.

"I think I am ready to retire for tonight," you tell her through gritted teeth, trying to keep the barrage of emotions at bay, she gives you an understanding nod.

"Of course M'lady " She smiles softly as she hurries off to your bedchambers preparing a change of clothes for your arrival.

You stand keeping a strict posture, it's only now do you feel as if you finally have caught Cregan's attention. "Forgive me, but I think I shall call it a night" You bite back the tears that collect along your lash line nibbling your cheek.

"Aw already? Just when I thought our conversation was bearing good fruit" she whines, her voice going straight through you just like nails on a chalkboard, she pouts, a spoiled brat who knows no discipline.

"Oh please, don't feel inclined to stop on my behalf" You smile with a curt bow before turning your heel and leaving, ignoring the way Cregan calls for you, an advance he must've given up on quite quickly as Darla calls for more drinks practically begging your husband to stay, you don't hear the rest of the conversation too focused on trying to calm your breathing.

"Lady Stark" Lyra bows softly as you walk into your bedchambers, shutting the heavy wooden door behind you with an exasperated sigh. "I have prepared you some tea m'lady," she says with a gentle tone as you sit down in front of your vanity. She makes starts to unclasp your necklace.

"Thank you Lyra, you're far to-" and before you can finish your sentence the door opens with a low groan. You don't bother turning around already knowing who it is.

"Lyra, could you give us a minute" Cregan huffs, sounding very unamused as he walks into the candle-lit room.

"Of course m'lord," she says, bowing as she rushes out of the room, and it's then the silence hits, smothering the room with its thick presence that you're sure it could snuff out the flames of the various candles.

You look at him through the reflection of the mirror as he sits down on the fur-covered sofa, running a hand through his hair before finally glancing over at you, there's something in his eyes that makes you feel... small, you have always said you would hate to be on the receiving end of Cregan's anger, that any man to challenge him would be a fool.

"Would you like to explain to me what exactly just happened?" he asks, frustration seeping into his tone and your answer or rather lack thereof only fuels it further. "Do you find pleasure in ignoring me?" he huffs, giving you a rather annoyed look.

And as childish as it might seem, you were. "Yes, well now you know how it feels, don't you?" you mumble, untying the pins in your hair before taking off your rings.

"What?" he questions watching in slight shock as you stand up, the chair behind you drags along the floor with a shriek.

"Tell me, Cregan, do you think our marriage is a farce?" you ask turning to face him with tears in your eyes, tears that you try so hard to hold back, "Do you take enjoyment out of making a mockery of our marriage?" your hands shake with the sudden adrenaline as you point at him, your finger nudging his should as rage pinches at your skin, he looks up at you with hurt in his eyes and for a minute you feel inclined to apologise.

He stands up, trying to reach for your hands but you don't let him as you pull away from his touch, he accepts defeat with a heavy heart, the sight of your tearful face makes his stomach drop.

"A farce? What in the seven hells are you on about women?" the hurt that sits in his chest slowly churns into something much more as it wraps around his heart squeezing it with force.

"Do not play ignorant with me Cregan" You speak through gritted teeth as he inches closer to you, "You sat there the entire night ignoring me whilst you entertained that naive girl" You feel your knees buckle under the stress of it all as you fall back onto the bed with a soft bounce.

"I was merely trying to be a good host" his voice is so gentle, calm that it makes you angrier.

"Being a good host does not substitute you pushing me aside like some sick dog as you fool around with her!- the entire night." you huff biting the inside of your lip.

"You're jealous?" he asks in almost disbelief.

"What?- Jealous I'm-" You can't deny it, you were, you were jealous of the pretty Ryswell girl and how she seemed to have captured Cregan's attention.

"You are missing my point entirely," you whisper leaning into him as he sits down on the bed next to you.

"I'm sorry- you're right, I should've paid more attention to you," he says, wiping away the tears that fall from your eyes, "I meant no harm by it, I swear." he presses a gentle kiss to your hairline.

"It was embarrassing Cregan, the way they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. I am your wife." you sigh, the events of tonight wearing down on you more than you thought, and now the fabric of your dress felt all too tight and itchy.

"Forgive me my love- my beautiful wife" he says pressing another kiss to your shoulder as he helps you up from the bed.

"You can get Lyra to help me if you want to go back to entertaining our guests" you whisper, testing him a little as you sneak a glance his way.

"There are no guests to entertain sweetheart, I called it off as soon as you left," he mumbles against your neck as he continues to peppers soft kisses to your warming skin.

He undoes the lace of your dress, pulling at the fabric as it loosens around your shoulders, coming undone to reveal your back, his gentle fingers trailing along your spine as his soft lips traverse to your neck.

"I never meant to hurt you or make you doubt your place within my heart" he whispers as he tugs your dress completely off, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud before going to get your nightdress, slipping the soft fabric over your body before wrapping his strong arms around your middle, nuzzling his nose in the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he breathes in deeply.

"I swear, by the old gods and new that my heart belongs to you, all of it." Cregan turns you around to face him and it's only then he sees your tear-stained face, the way your bottom lip juts out at his loving words.

"I love you," he says as you push your face against his chest, letting all the built-up emotions go as they leave you in the form of tears. His big hand soothes the expanse of your back as he sways you in his arms ever so gently. He swears to never make you feel as you did tonight, ever again.

"I love you too" you whisper against the leather he is wearing. He cups your face within his hands, the warmth of his palms bleeding with affection as his thumb soothes against the apples of your cheeks.

"Come on my love, let's go to bed eh?" you nod as he tucks your hair behind your ears. You fall asleep wrapped up with him, a mess of limbs underneath the furs as he holds you gently and in the morning and every morning after that Cregan sings your praises, never letting you doubt your place beside him, ever.

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Rainy mornings

{You and Rhaenyra enjoy a peaceful morning together}

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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It’s raining almost constantly on Dragonstone something you have come to love as time goes on. Especially in these moments when you wake up beside your beloved wife, her soft, white hair falling out of her once neat braid.

The back of her hand grazes against your cheek gently as you slowly begin to stir from your sleep. She props herself up on her elbow as she looks down at you with kind eyes, full of love and there's something about the warmth of the moment that seems to protect you from the harsh morning winds that whistle through the castle.

“Good morning my sweet girl” she smiles, keeping a hushed tone as she leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. Her hands soothe against the curve of your bare hip as he continues to press light kisses along your jaw smiling against you when you let out a small delighted sigh.

Rhaenyra watches as you rub your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips and she can’t help but let out a breathy giggle at the sight, but who could blame her? When her beautiful wife, lays naked beneath the white sheets, bathed in the morning sun as it rises. The happiness that blooms within her chest escapes her through soft giggles.

“Did you sleep well, my dear?” You ask, voice still laced with sleep. A gentle hand reaches up to brush away the hair that frames her face pushing it behind her ear, the back of your fingers grazing against her cheek.

“I always sleep well beside you,” she responds voice just above a whisper, before dropping a kiss to your shoulder. You shuffle closer to her, bringing the sheets with you as you rest your head against her chest. Rhaenyra traces her fingertips along your spine leaving goosebumps in their wake and the sensation only makes you nuzzle into her neck further, seeking out her warmth.

“Breakfast should be here soon so don’t go back to sleep my love” she whispers against your forehead, pressing her lips to your hairline as her hands still work their way up and down your back, enjoying the way your body feels against hers.

The familiar heavy sensation weighs against you, and you fight so hard to keep your eyes open, but the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and the way Rhaenyra's hands feel against your body makes it really hard.

“You’re certainly not making it easy,” you tell her with a soft chuckle.

Before she can defend herself there’s a knock at the door, and a voice from the other side, “Breakfast m’lady”

She pulls the sheets over your shoulders to cover your modesty before telling the maid to enter. She leaves two silver trays, full of warm pastries and fruit, on top of the stone table that sits at the end of the bed before leaving with a curt bow wishing the pair of you a pleasant morning.

“Come on my sweet girl, let us eat,” she says, watching as you move away from your very comfortable position, and suddenly she’s left very aware of just how cold it is. You sit with your back against the headboard, robe wrapped tightly around your body as a gust of wind pushes through the room.

“Eating in bed are we?” She smiles at the tired nod you give her in response.

“Yes, because you love me dearly and it is simply far too cold,” you tell her as she brings the trays over to the bed placing them down on the mattress carefully before sitting back down next to you, and as if out of instinct you lean closer to her searching for her warmth yet again.

“I do, I love you more than words could ever express,” she says with such sincerity that it leaves you breathless and it certainly doesn’t help when he presses a loving kiss to your lips, her hand caressing your cheek ever so gently.

The pair of you indulge in the food, feeding each other the different fruits and sweet pastries and Rhaenyra can’t help but admire your beauty, the way you seem to practically glow under the morning sun as a smile embraces your beautiful features. She truly loves you, even if you’re leaving crumbs on the bed.

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