𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: You’re the long time girlfriend of Aemond Targaryen, having met him through your best friend Helaena. Everything seemed calm and happy until you got the news about Helaena’s sudden death.
𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Mentions of suicide before the events of the story
A/N: In my defense, I’ve had this idea for weeks but I thought now was a good time to post it. 🥲 (Also I know Daeron has the full Targaryen look, but I genuinely liked him having Hightower hair in the show).
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“Are you doing okay?”
You glanced over, hearing your boyfriend’s soft voice, and sniffled, sitting up. “I should be asking you that question. She was your sister.”
Aemond glanced towards you and took a deep breath, reaching over and placing a hand on your knee. “She was your childhood friend,” he replied, squeezing your knee lightly.
You took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah,” she whispered.
You still remembered the night Aegon called you and Aemond and how heartbroken he sounded. You knew Aemond was the one trying to stay strong, although you had known him long enough to see through his facade.
Aegon had left the twins in his mother's care so that all three brothers could go to their family cabin and reminisce. You were invited by extension, and if it weren’t for Helaena, you would not have met your longtime boyfriend.
The ride was a heavy one, your heart tightening the closer you got. The family cabin was a special place for Helaena, often calling it her bug haven. She loved the creatures so much that she made a garden for them as well as for birds. Through her, you found a love for the same creatures.
You ran a hand through your hair, taking a deep breath, seeing the cabin in the distance, Aegon’s car already there. A small smile came on your features at the sight of the youngest brother, waving at Daeron. He was a sweet boy, but was always insecure about his red hair since his brothers teased him for it. Helaena, on the other hand, always made sure that Daeron loved himself and his uniqueness, which made him more confident over the years.
You got out first while Aemond went to open the back door, his dog, Vhagar, jumping out excitedly. You could see more clearly the sadness on Daeron’s face the closer you got, and you pulled him into a tight hug. You threaded your fingers through his short hair, sniffling while trying not to cry yourself.
”You’ve gotten taller,” you whispered, pulling back enough, smiling through your tears as you placed a hand on his cheek.
Daeron chuckled and nodded, looking past you and pulling back to go and hug Aemond. You wiped at your eyes, hearing the door open, and walked closer to Aegon. His eyes were red-rimmed, showing his emotional state from the last week.
”Thank you for coming. Both of you.” Aegon tried not to let his voice waver, but failed. It was a custom in Targaryen culture to wed within the family; Aegon and Helaena wed as soon as she hit the age of eighteen. It was an odd tradition, but you respected it.
“Of course,” you replied, offering him a soft smile and hugging him when he opened his arms.
You could hear Aegon’s sniffles and closed your eyes, feeling his grip tighten on you, and when you pulled away, you saw him wiping at his eyes.
”Well.” Aegon breathed deeply before he continued; “Now that everyone is here, we can get the food going.”
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You smiled, watching Vhagar nuzzle into your stomach, and sniffled, looking at the fire in front of you while everyone got settled. After dinner, Aegon wanted to do a fire pit in Helaena’s haven, especially since there was a beautiful view of the sky from where they were.
”Helaena struggled after the loss of our unborn child,” Aegon spoke up, breaking the silence. “But…she always had a smile on her face. She never complained, she continued doing what she loved until…”
Aemond reached over and placed a hand on the small of his back when he began to choke up. “She was certainly the best one out of all of us. Definitely mother’s favorite,” he said with a chuckle.
”Favorite daughter…I’m the favorite son,” Daeron stated while smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “She was always a breath of fresh air. She let me call her late at night to vent, and she knew how to make everyone happy just from her being her.”
You nodded, wrapping the blanket you had on your shoulders tighter around you. “I remember when we first met. I was getting picked on by this Bracken boy, and she never raised her voice to him, but she knew how to insult someone.”
You laughed at the memory, tears stinging your eyes. “Then she turned to me and asked if I wanted to look for bugs with her. She was odd like me in a good way, a ray of light in such a dark place.”
Aegon licked his lips lightly while nodding, looking down at the heart pendant around his neck. He had gotten it after Helaena was cremated, wanting to have her with him at all times. “I know there were times before I got sober that I did not treat her well, but she was still there for me a-and…and helped me when I was at my l-lowest.”
You frowned as the oldest brother began to shake and put his head in his hands while he began to sob. “Gods, I miss her so much.”
Aemond let out a deep breath, pulling him tight into a hug. “We all do. She wouldn’t want us to cry though.”
Daeron nodded in agreement, scooting closer to lay his head on Aegon’s shoulder. “She would probably want us to commemorate her by planting flowers. Sunflowers were her favorite if I remember correctly.”
You nodded, the tears falling freely on everyone now. You sniffled, looking up at the sky, smiling at the moon. Helaena saw beauty in everything, but she found the moon the most ethereal thing she had ever seen. You tilted your head looking over the clear sky, smiling a small smile at the sight of a star that twinkled brighter than the others sitting next to the crescent moon.
“And she will always be here, watching over us. And she will know how much we love her,” you whispered softly before standing up to join in on the hug.
Series Masterlist || Other HOTD stories || Fanfiction Masterlist
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𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Adryana had sworn to take down those in House Targaryen who were born with a mutation that allows them to survive only on blood after her sister was killed by The Rogue Prince. When she finally has a contract to take down King Aegon and his younger brother, Aemond, she learns some secrets that should have stayed hidden.
𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: None.
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𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓘
“The Ruby Gala is a feasting ground for the King and his brother. They disguise it as a courting party for Aemond and Daeron, but really it's an easy way to get a crowd of maidens together in a confined room.”
Adryana nodded while she listened to every detail her client gave her. Jacaerys Velaryon was a victim of his Uncles’ reign of terror, from growing up in the same home to the murder of his younger brother, Lucerys.
When a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin. That is how the tale goes anyway. There is a rare genetic mutation among House Targaryen where they can only have blood to gain their nutrients. During the reigns of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator and King Viserys, they were able to sustain themselves and their kin through various animals…until Daemon Targaryen’s bloody rampage. He went through the lowest streets of Flea Bottom, slaughtering every man, woman, and child. That was until he came face-to-face with the most ethereal woman he had ever seen. It was only another tale twisted in the Targaryen family history, but Adryana knew they were true.
Because that woman was her sister.
For as long as she could remember, Ana idolized her older sister for letting nothing break her. They were orphaned from a young age, causing Madelyne to take on the motherly role. She refused to let Adryana help her, only asking her to cook and clean when she came of age.
She hated that her sister was forced to do unspeakable acts for them to survive. However, some tales have claimed that Daemon became infatuated with Madelyne, and they wed in secret. Adryana refused to believe her older sister fell in love with one of them.
“Thank the Gods for Maegor’s tunnels,” she mumbled, examining the expansive map that included the secret tunnels King Maegor built during his reign of terror.
“Aegon is paranoid; he’s going to have extra guards posted everywhere,” Jace explained while leaning against a beam with crossed arms.
Ana hummed, scrunching her brows. “There’s one passage he can not have guards at,” she stated, moving her finger down the tunnel that connected to the kitchens.
Jace clicked his tongue, mulling over the idea in his head. Adryana knew the servants were charmed under their precious King, but unfortunately, they would become casualties. They will not be the first innocent people she had to kill.
“You do understand the risk of being caught, yes?”
Adryana stood straight, offering the curly-haired prince a small smirk. “I know I won’t get caught.”
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Adryana always felt odd wearing dresses when she went on a hunt, even more odd that she did not have any weapons on her person. She was only there to get the layout of the castle, discover where Aegon and Aemond’s living quarters were, and get out.
It should have been that simple.
Ana’s dress was a deep blue with a sapphire necklace to match. Her long golden hair was loose and flowing down her back; her sister would always do elegant styles for her, but Adryana never had the patience to do it herself.
She took a moment, placing a hand on the small blue jewel that nestled above her breasts. “I swear I’m going to kill every silver-haired prick for you, Madelyne.”
Adryana felt the tears prick her eyes, but she refused to cry. Not until her sister was avenged.
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Getting through the tunnels was easier than Jacaerys mentioned, too simple in fact. Adryana had a strange feeling when she came into the kitchens, noticing the kitchen maids were not present; surely not all of them would be at the Gala.
Ana slowly opened the door and furrowed her brows. The halls were as quiet as the kitchen. That was when she knew she was walking into a trap, but she had no choice except to move forward.
She noticed the feasting halls as she walked closer, and that there were no guards at the closed doors. The sinking feeling in her stomach became deeper as she placed a hand on the handle of the doors. She had never been afraid of a hunt, but her hands trembled as she pulled the doors open.
The ballroom was filled with a range of colors, from pinks and purples to reds and whites, all facing the high table. Adryana squinted, noticing how the table was beautifully decorated with plates set out, but the four seats were empty before she felt a chill run down her spine when a cold hand landed on her shoulder.
“Are you lost, sweet one?”
The voice sounded as sweet as honey, but she knew better than to fall for the charming Targaryen princes. It was said they dabbled in dark arts to lure their victims, and Ana would not be surprised if the stories were true.
The Prince hummed, moving his hand down her arm and letting out a chuckle at how tense she got. “You don’t need to be scared of me, love. Perhaps you would like to stay for the show.”
Adryana was not a fool, feeling his hand tighten on her arm. As if on cue, the captain of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston, otherwise known as King Aegon’s dog, dragged a person out to the high table, followed by the King himself and his sister-wife, Helaena. She knew the youngest would not be at the feast, which could only mean the one-eyed Prince was the one holding onto her, and he was arguably the cruelest of them all.
“It is a very lovely evening, wouldn’t you all agree!” Aegon’s voice boomed throughout the feasting hall, and he chuckled at the cheers from the various girls hoping to have a dance with the King or the Prince.
“To begin tonight’s feast, we need to make a sacrifice!”
The hood was pulled off, and Adryana went wide-eyed at the sight of Jace struggling against Ser Criston. She felt the Prince leaning closer to her ear, trying to keep her composure. “My dear nephew was caught planning a way to assassinate my brothers and me. It’s speculated that he had an accomplice, but he refused to talk.”
Ana felt tears well in her eyes, but she refused to cry as Aegon made an extravagant show of the dagger he pulled out before slitting his throat and grabbing a goblet to fill with his blood. Aemond chuckled, nuzzling his nose into her blonde hair. “Now it is time for the fun to begin, my sweet.”
Ramsay’s words went in one ear and out the other as Alysanne stared down at the man huddled in the corner of the cage; if he could even be called a man now. He had betrayed her brother and attempted to take Winterfell, only to fail in the end.
“He will do anything you ask of him.” Ramsay’s voice was sickly sweet while he stepped closer to the redhead. He had a wide smile on his features, clearly proud of his work.
Alysanne felt the tears stinging her blue eyes, but she refused to take her eyes off Theon. She had various emotions swelling through her: anger and hatred. However, she could not help but feel sorrow upon seeing her former intended and childhood friend reduced to a shell of his former self.
“You've also mentioned that Reek tried to force himself upon you when he was pretending to play conqueror at Winterfell?” Ramsay asked, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back. When she nodded, his smile grew. “I have taken care of that so he would never harm you again, My Lady.”
She was supposed to rendezvous with Lord Ormund Hightower and their youngest brother because Aemond vowed never to let her set foot in the haunted castle again, for as long as they lived.
So he wondered why, when he woke up from a night terror, his wife was lying next to him and staring at him with sad eyes.
Aemond let out a deep sigh, placing his uninjured hand on the doorframe leading to the hallway. He was so close to sneaking past his long-time girlfriend. He tilted his head back, smiling at her worried expression.
“You're cute when you worry about me, love,” he said, sending her a wink, but it was clear she was not in a teasing mood.
“What happened to your hand?” Adryana repeated, placing her hands on her rounded stomach.
Aemond turned, leaning his head against Ana’s. “I just had a slip-up with a knife, is all.”
“Aemond.” Adryana pouted, looking into his violet eyes. “I'm worried about you continuing this under-the-table shit. What if you get a worse injury, like losing an eye?”
The silver-haired boy chuckled, pulling his girlfriend as close as he could. “Ana, you worry too much.”
“I'm sorry that I want our children to grow up with their father,” Adryana stated in a stern tone before closing her eyes when he leaned down to kiss her quickly on the lips.
“Our twins are going to know their father and I’m not going to lose an eye,” Aemond assured her, placing his hands over hers on her stomach while leaning down to give her another kiss on the lips.
“Remember, you promised to stop this and talk to your father about getting a job at his firm once the babies are born.”
“And I don't plan to break that promise, my love,” he whispered, giving her one last kiss. “Now come on, Ana. Relax and let me make dinner for you.”
Summary: Adryana had sworn to take down those in House Targaryen who were born with a mutation that allows them to survive only on blood after her sister was killed by The Rogue Prince. When she finally has a contract to take down King Aegon and his younger brother, Aemond, she learns some secrets that should have stayed hidden.
Below is my OC masterlist for various fandoms. I mainly have ASOIAF OCs (HOTD, Blackfyre Era, AKOTSK, and GoT) and I’ve been writing more original character fics lately.
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🔥A Song of Ice and Fire🔥
~ A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms~
• Arina of House Targaryen: Daughter to Baelor Targaryen and Jena Dondarrion [Daeron “the Drunken” Targaryen]. Face claim: Alicia Agnesson specifically from Vikings.
In Another Universe: Short Fic
~ House of the Dragon~
• Adryana Targaryen: Youngest daughter of King Viserys and Queen Alicent [Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen]. Face claim: Florence Pugh. [For Modern AUs: She’s Harwin Strong’s and Reyanna Blackwood’s daughter]
Bound in Fire and Blood: Long Fic
Characters I have OCs for but not written fics on yet:
𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Aerion has always picked on you growing up, to the point where you both ended up in Valyria Reformed School. He wanted to get your attention and got it when he took pictures of you undressing. He said he would delete them on one condition: you go to his party.
𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Mentions suicide attempts on both sides.
A/N: I watched Backrooms for the first time the other night and I had an urge to write an Aerion fic.
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You kept your head down while sorting through your toiletries, listening to the other girls’ excited chatter about the upcoming Winter’s Solstice break. You were the only one who didn’t look forward to the holidays, it seemed. You might have hated Valyria Reformed School, but it was considered your home.
“Y/N!”
You jumped at hearing the shout of your name and turned to see your best friend, Elain, staring at you. You blinked a few times and cleared your throat. “D-did you say something, El?”
“Yeah, I was wondering if you were going to come with me to Brightflame’s rager?”
You snorted at the question. “You’re asking me of all people? Elain, really?”
Elain groaned, setting her basket of toiletries on the bench behind her. “Look, I got invited by Kiera, and I don't want to go alone because we both know she's going to be with Valarr all night.”
You shook your head, beginning to untie your robe before taking it off. “Why don’t you ask—“ You froze, hearing the familiar laugh, clenching your jaw.
You heard a couple of girls gasp at the sight of a boy in the girls’ shower room, then turned to see Aerion taking one more picture before running off. You quickly threw your robe back on before chasing after the silver-haired prick. You nearly ran into a few people while gripping your robe tight, having not wasted time tying it.
By the time you reached Aerion, you were out of breath, shooting him a glare at the smug smirk on his features while leaning against his doorway. “Out of breath, Little Dove?”
You scowled and reached up to snatch his phone, but he was able to get it out of your reach easily. “Delete those pictures, you cunt.”
Aerion clicked his tongue. “No, no. I was looking for new material to get off to, and I never knew you had such a figure, Dragun.”
The way he said your last name made your skin crawl. You both came to the reformed school at the same time, seeing as you were each other’s reason to be kicked out of Blackfyre Academy. He had done nothing but pick on you growing up, and you snapped one day. Aerion already had a reputation and was on the verge of expulsion, but you couldn't understand why you had to be punished for one bad day.
You realized you weren't going to get your way, especially with the crowd you'd drawn. “I hate you so much.”
Aerion hummed. “I love you too, babe.” He winked your way, causing you to scoff, and turned, making your way back to the shower room, defeated.
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Typically, the library was a quiet place to study and do work, but the Brightflame menaces, what you’ve called Aerion and his goons, decided to choose the library for their hangout. You threaded your fingers through your hair, trying to study for the upcoming winter finals of The First Men of Westeros, although it was hard when Gareth laughed at every little thing Aerion said. Half of it probably was not even funny.
“I can't wait to see all the girls that are going to be coming,” Orion groaned, leaning back in his seat.
“I heard Ryder’s ex was coming. What was her name again? Ella…Elizabeth…”
“Elain,” Aerion replied, causing you to frown. The tone of his voice was soft and a little quiet—a contrast to how he normally talks.
“Elain, that’s right!” Orion snapped his fingers. “Gods, she is so hot!”
“A bit mad though,” Gareth added, furrowing his brows. “Especially after Elain broke–”
“Ryder broke Elain’s heart. She isn’t mad; she was grieving. Ryder is the piece of shit that cheated on her again, and again, and again,” you snapped at the trio with narrowed eyes.
The goons looked shocked, but Aerion kept that cool expression he wears more often than not. It made your skin crawl the way he was looking at you, deep purple flames in his eyes.
“Are you coming tonight, Little Dove?” Aerion spoke up.
“Why would I go to your stupid parties, Targaryen?” You asked harshly.
The corners of his mouth turned up into a devilish smile, and that was when you realized you were trapped before he said anything.
“If you decide to stay in the comforts of your dorm, I'll release those lovely pictures I took of you this morning.”
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“I feel like an idiot.” You frowned at your reflection, trying to pull down the skirt of your tight red dress that ended a little under the thigh.
“Please, Y/N! You are one of the most beautiful girls I know,” Elain gushed, walking closer.
You looked over at your best friend and smiled softly. You always thought Elain was more beautiful between the two of you, with her perfect golden hair and a smile so contagious that everyone around her couldn't help but smile with her.
“You look like a Princess. I can never compete with you.”
Elain hushed you while grabbing your arm. “Let’s get drunk off our asses and maybe find a cute guy to fuck.”
The vacation home was already swarmed with cars, loud music blaring through the open door. The location was well known when Aerion’s older brother threw ragers; it was a surprise that he found a wife and settled down.
“Are you going to be okay if I leave you alone?” Elain asked once you'd reached the spiked punch.
You looked at your friend, noticing her eyes were wandering around the crowd. You sighed softly, knowing she was trying to find her ex. You knew Elain tried to be quiet when she snuck out to go to Ryder, but she was never a good liar.
You only nodded in response, watching her with sad eyes as she pushed through the crowd towards the curly-haired boy. You turned back to the punch and reached for a cup, but someone else was quicker. You examined the leather bracelet the boy had on, its texture resembling reptilian scales.
You quickly removed your hand and opened your mouth to apologize, but narrowed your eyes at the silver-haired prick before you. His eyes weren't on your face, which made your blood boil.
“You came after all, Little Dove,” Aerion said, letting out a low whistle.
“Of course I came,” you spat, causing the boy to chuckle. “Delete those pictures.”
He snorted, meeting your eyes. “You think it's that easy, don't you? Now that I see you, I'll delete the pictures, and you'll be on your way.”
You opened and closed your mouth for a reply, but you couldn't deny it. You felt the heat flush to your cheeks, embarrassed that he could read you.
Aerion hummed, running a hand through his short hair. Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you through the crowd. “What are you doing!” you gasped.
He chuckled but kept his mouth shut, pulling you through the crowd and leading you upstairs. His grip was tight, but not painful, as he reached a closed door at the end of the hallway.
Aerion pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door before leading you in. He was quick to lock the door behind him, even though you were distracted, looking around the room.
You walked over to the dresser, smiling at a photo of Aerion as a child with a wide, toothy grin, holding onto a fish that was bigger than his body.
“When did you get that scar?”
You frowned at the question and turned towards him. “What?”
Aerion took a deep breath and pushed off of his door. “I may be a prick, Dragun, but I can tell when something is different. So, how did you get that scar around your neck?”
You looked down at the deep red carpet, finding an interesting spot to look at. You never realized how observant he was, even if you hated each other.
“It was after we got expelled,” you admitted, heading over to his bed. You sat down slowly, keeping your eyes on your hands. “My father was never a good man, and when he found out I got expelled…he went ballistic. I thought death would be better at that point, but being the idiot I am.” You laughed, feeling the tears prick your eyes. “I didn't even slit my throat properly.”
You were waiting for Aerion to laugh at you and tease you, but it never came. A tear rolled down your left cheek as you watched him unbuckle his bracelet while slowly sitting next to you.
You furrowed your brows, seeing a long scar on his left wrist, and you reached out, gingerly touching it.
“I-I…” Aerion took a deep breath before continuing: “My mother passed when I started at Blackfyre Academy. Daeron already moved out to live with Arina, and the pressure of being the example for my younger siblings broke me.”
He frowned down at the scar, lightly rubbing at it with his thumb. “I'm sorry for the way I've treated you, Y/N. I will delete the pictures in the morning.”
You shook your head, placing your hand over his. “I'm sorry for judging you. Although picking on me was not the way to get my attention.”
Aerion chuckled, meeting your eyes. It felt as though it was the first time you'd seen him smile genuinely. “I'm a stupid boy trying to get a cute girl’s attention.”
You sniffled and giggled lightly. “I mean, you are still a stupid boy,” you teased.
He laughed with you and looked down at your hands. He slowly moved his hands to intertwine your fingers. Your heart skipped a beat at how well they fit together.
“It seems we’re not so different after all, Little Dove.”
About this page: About this page: The assassin threatens Aemond with a dagger and explains that she could’ve k*lled Aemond any time she wanted. Then she tossed her dagger on the floor, giving him the ultimate choice if he still doesn’t trust her.
𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: A cat-and-mouse game between you and your husband, Ormund. You were the mouse that wanted to be chased desperately by the cat. A cat with a very high temper, and as the mouse, you know exactly the ways to get the cat to chase you.
𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Slightly toxic on both sides, implies adultery on reader's side, knife play (given to reader), breast play, fingering (given to reader), and teasing on both sides.
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Your marital chambers were silent except for the crackling of fire and scraping of utensils against your husband’s plate. You eyed him carefully, lounging in your chair across from him while sipping your wine. It was odd of him to want a private dinner, as he often enjoys having his cousin and ward with them, commenting that he would rather dine with everyone he cared about, even if he and Gwayne did not get along and he was slowly manipulating Daeron to his whim.
You felt for the boy and had taken on a motherly role, which is why Ormund was not as bad as he could be. Ormund, in turn, would take his frustration out on you in ways that you’ve enjoyed.
“How have Daeron’s lessons been coming along?” You asked after a moment, wanting to break the clear tension.
Ormund hummed, savoring the flavors of his chicken before he responded, “Very well. Gwayne mentioned that he is becoming better with the sword.” He flickered his blue gaze to meet your eyes, causing a chill to run down your spine.
There was a fire in his eyes; a fire that you stoked. “But tell me about your day, my dear wife. I was informed that you went riding and you were gone quite a long time.”
You hid your small smirk in your glass of wine, downing the rest of it. “It was a lovely day, and my dear husband was not able to accompany me.”
“Was it with your precious mare, Buttercup, or perhaps your latest paramour…what was his name? Colliff, I believe?”
You hummed. “The name does not sound familiar.”
Ormund raised his brows. “Really?” He asked in a challenging tone.
“Really,” you replied in the same challenging tone.
Ormund nodded, twirling his knife for a moment before he stabbed it in the wood and pushed his chair out. You could already feel the heat between your thighs, watching him come to you in a few strides.
“Do you not think I know of your activities when you are not by my side?” He whispered, placing his hands on either side of your chair.
You looked up when he hooked two of his fingers under your chin, offering him a small smirk. “Enlighten me, my love.”
You knew it was dangerous to stoke the fire even more, although the higher the fire went, the more arousal you felt. You grew up with Ormund and his cousins in Old Town, visiting every time with your Lord Father. The arranged marriage was not a surprise considering how close you were with the Lord of Old Town’s son. To say your bedroom life was exciting was an understatement.
“Tell me, did that cunt of a servant satisfy you?”
“More than you?” You questioned and smirked when he nodded, his eyes darkening. “Of course not,” you purred.
“Adultery is a sin against the Seven.”
You, of course, knew that, having grown up under the Faith, and Ormund reminded you every time you began your favorite game, cat-and-mouse. “All I can ask for is forgiveness.”
Your husband hummed, leaning down to pepper kisses along your jaw, closing your eyes at the feeling. The start of the game was always slow; Ormund loved to torment you. “You need to show repentance for your sins, my dear.”
You placed a hand over his free one that traveled down the front of your dress. You bit back a moan when he bit down on your sweet spot. You hated the torment, but you did not want to give him the satisfaction he was looking for so soon.
You moved your hand when he began to lift the skirts of your dress, easily undoing your small clothes, his ringed hand gently running up your leg. You tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, feeling him run his hand into your inner thigh, but instead of going towards your intimate parts, he moved slightly above, lightly stroking at the smooth skin. As he moved his index and middle fingers up and down on your skin, you could not help the whimper that passed your lips when he got close to his destination.
The whimper turned into a moan as he bit down harder on your sweet spot. Ormund hummed in satisfaction, kissing the bite lightly. “Music to my ears.”
He used his other hand to move towards your chest, painfully slowly tugging at the ties of your front corset. “Perhaps the bed would be more suitable, my love.”
“It would be,” Ormund agreed. “Although I don’t believe you have repented yet.”
You wanted to protest, but you knew you were at his mercy. When he got your ties free and pushed your light green dress down, he stopped for a moment to grab the knife that he stabbed in the wood. He used his left hand to run through your hair, the other using the knife to trail down the valley of your breasts. Your skin prickled at the cool touch of steel, your breath hitching when he moved the knife to your left breast, lightly tracing the curve of it with the knife’s tip.
He ran the knife across your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple.
“Ormund,” you whispered when he went to your other breast, taunting you once more.
He clicked his tongue in response, knowing you were far from repentance. Ormund leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips while he moved the knife further down. You gasped at the light knick above your belly, a new scar to go with the others that littered across your body.
His lips connected with yours hungrily, immediately giving him access. You tangled your tongue with his, Ormund gripping the back of your neck lightly to deepen the kiss. You fought back a pout when he did after a moment. Your dress was now pooled at your feet, your eyes staying on his as your husband moved to admire you.
“Have I repented?” You breathed out.
Ormund smiled down at you. “I believe you’re close,” he replied, moving the knife to his own skin.
He made a clean cut into the palm of his hand, dropping the knife onto the ground afterward. He got on his knees, letting him move your legs apart. You relaxed against the chair, gripping the armrests.
The feel of Ormund’s bloodied hand caused you to arch your back, especially the closer he got to your tender breasts. He rose slightly to be eye level at your chest, taking his time to paint your breasts with his blood. As he leaned down and lightly bit on your left nipple, that was when he took his other hand to insert two fingers into you.
He hummed in satisfaction to feel you already wet, moaning when he slowly pushed his fingers in further. He bit lightly on your nipple when he pulled back slightly, gasping as he pushed his fingers back in.
While he moved on to your other breast, he moved his fingers to rub at you lightly. You bit your nails into the wood as he began to rub you faster. You furrowed your brows, a moan passing your lips the faster he went.
“O-Ormund,” you whimpered out.
He released his mouth from your breast, his lips ghosting your neck. He took his fingers out, rubbing your thigh lightly. He pulled back slightly, lust and love in his eyes while he looked over you with absolute adoration. You may have played twisted games with each other and complimented each other’s madness, although the love you’ve had for each other was clear.
You took his bloodied hand, kissing lightly at the smeared blood. “No more torment, please,” you whispered against his palm.
Ormund stood to his full height as you began to get up, looking over his fully clothed body. You were quick to take his tunic off, but before you got to his breeches, you bent down to pick up the knife. Without hesitation, you cut into your own hand, tossing the knife back onto the floor.
You placed your uninjured hand on his neck while your bloody hand painted down his chest. You could see him trying to control his breathing the closer you got to his breeches, and when you dipped your hand below, gripping him tightly, that was when he pulled you into another hungry kiss.
“You are a fucking vixen,” he hissed when you bit down on his lip and squeezed his cock.
“Then give me forgiveness,” you breathed against his lips.
Ormund grunted before he pulled back to get rid of his constricting breeches. He hooked his arms under your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Your lips connected with his once more, giggling as he dropped you lightly on your marital bed and positioned himself to give you the forgiveness that you have been craving.
“It has been three days now spent in the pursuit of these dry histories.” ~ Ormund might want to raise Daeron as a Hightower but he can never take that Targaryen sass genetic away from him.
(I was laughing so hard at Ormund being a sore loser for losing to a child).
A/N: Evangeline is my OC for Ser Gwayne Hightower. She was the inspiration behind my two part fanfic [here]. You don’t have to read it, but there will be a couple of mentions from it. :)
A Mother's Love [HOTD OC flash fic feat. Gwayne Hightower, Lord Ormund Hightower, and, Prince Daeron Targaryen]
“Make sure to protect Daeron from Ormund.”
Gwayne’s words rang through Evangeline’s mind as she sat at the small dinner table across from his cousin, Daeron, on Ormund’s left. She had a hard stare, watching Ormund cut into his steak. He noticed her staring, his blue eyes piercing into her soul; it felt like it.
Evangeline held her head high, watching every one of his movements. The way his grip choked his goblet, his expression cool although his shoulders were tense. He licked his lips lightly before clearing his throat, setting his goblet down.
“Is something the matter, Evangeline?” Ormund asked after a moment, leaning back into his seat.
The blonde snarled at the sickly sweet tone he used for her name. Ormund thought of her as a plague on Oldtown, a commonborn who did not belong in the royal family. She met her husband while she was a barmaid at her father’s tavern, The Crystal Drop. She had fallen for him rather fast, and he for her.
Gwayne’s father was cold to him and colder to her. He hated her status as much as his nephew did. Ormund kept quiet when Gwayne was home, although the moment he left, the Lord of Oldtown became cruel towards her.
“Nothing is the matter,” Evangeline responded after a moment of silence.
Ormund hummed in displeasure before taking a deep breath. “Daeron, one important lesson to know as an up-and-coming Lord: you need to listen to your subjects,” he began, his chair scraping against the stone. “Although you need to remind them where they belong.”
Evangeline looked towards Daeron, Ormund’s loud footsteps echoing in the room. She tried to hold back her tears the closer he got. She could see the fear flash across the young boy’s face when Ormund gripped the back of the woman’s chair. Unfortunately, the Lord’s cruelty was a familiar sight to his ward.
“Gwayne’s lovely wife is a good example here.” Evie tensed when Ormund moved his hand to run his fingers through her long blonde hair. “She may be part of this family, but truly…she never belonged here.”
She closed her eyes, feeling his fingers continue to gently run through her hair, before he fisted a chunk and tilted her head back so she could meet his cold eyes. Ormund smirked down at her, leaning close to her ear.
“Remember, Gwayne is not here to protect you.”
Evangeline whimpered when he let go of her hair, glaring up at the smug smirk he still had on his features. Gwayne was her protector, although he taught her how to defend herself if need be. She only hoped she did not have to use her dagger on Lord Hightower.
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
Evangeline stared at herself in her vanity mirror, sighing as she brushed through her hair, preparing for bed. Ormund had not played any of his tricks, but she was not foolish enough to leave her guard down.
She jumped at the knock at her door, closing her eyes. “Come.”
She turned as her door opened, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Daeron. They would always spend time together when the moon came out. She had taken on a motherly role towards the boy, especially after hers and Gwayne’s multiple attempts to have a babe had failed.
“It was hard to get away from Ormund tonight,” Daeron grumbled when he got closer.
“Oh, my sweet,” Evie whispered, smiling softly as she grabbed his hand. “Is he still not allowing you to ride on your dragon?”
He nodded, slumping into the seat beside her, fiddling with her fingers. She liked to tease him for it because she would do the same with Gwayne whenever she was nervous or upset.
“I don't understand why he won't let me do my lessons,” Daeron said in a slightly whiny tone; a reminder that he was still a child.
Evangeline moved her hand from his to his cheek. “The same reason he does not accept me as your Uncle’s wife,” she whispered. “He believes anything that does not follow the Faith of the Seven is deemed a stain. He has this dream of wanting to have Westeros back to before the Conquest.”
Ormund, of course, did not tell her, but Evie had to listen to her husband’s long venting about his cousin’s mad ideas. She loved Gwayne with her whole heart, although she did wish he would stop talking after the first hour.
The corner of Daeron’s lips lifted slightly before he sighed. “Do you believe he would let me go on another ride on Tessarion?”
Her heart wanted to break at the sad tone of Daeron’s voice. Evangeline lightly gripped his chin, meeting his violet eyes. “Do not forget you are half-dragon, Daeron. Ormund can not take that away from you. You do not have to ask his permission to ride your dragon whenever you please.”
“But–”
“Fuck Ormund,” Evie said firmly, gripping his chin a bit more. “If he says anything, I will protect you.”
Daeron’s eyes glistened with tears, and he nodded before he suddenly lunged forward into a hug. Evangeline wrapped her arms around him tightly, her fingers tangling in his freshly dyed red hair. She knew it was easier when Gwayne was around, but she was not going to break at Ormund’s will. She was going to protect Daeron no matter the cost.
