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Aemond Targaryen
Season 3
Please tell me you have good Martin fics to recommend🫠🫠
hes not appreciated enough😭 i need himmmm
Oh boy, I am still craving for more Martin fics too. I also can’t believe how underrated this promising character is because he is just so special. I really feel you on this one.
Once the chaos of real life has died down, I am so eager to be back here to lurk around for Martin stories. In the meantime, I am going to re-read (for the nth time) @silverdragonfly ‘s Martin oneshot that will always have a hold over my heart and soul and which I believe you have read already 🤭
If you get to find one, please let me know ☺️
The Enduring Bloom l Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader Genre: Enemies to lovers, historical drama, romance, reincarnation AU Summary: When House Thorne bends the knee to the Black Queen, you are left as a prize of war in the Red Keep. Amidst the tension of a kingdom at war, Prince Aemond Targaryen makes a vow that not even the fires of the God’s Eye can truly extinguish. Note: My Masterlist
I've already watched the HOTD3 trailer for several times, but I just got some free time to write a little fanfiction for Aemond. I’m dying to write more once the new season is out!
--
The war between the Greens and the Blacks splits the realm into two bleeding halves. King’s Landing is a nest of whispers and sharp steel.
My family, House Thorne, holds the keys to the southern passes. We are a house of ancient blood and vital supply lines. Because of our position, I am kept at court as a guest, though everyone knows I am a hostage to ensure my father's loyalty to King Aegon.
Aemond and I did not start with love. We started with silence in the Great Library. He is a man of books and blades. I am a woman who prefers the quiet corners of the Red Keep. We met over a shared manuscript.
Slowly, the shared silence turned into shared secrets. He found in me a person who did not fear his temper or his dragon. I found in him a soul that is tired of being the second son. We became lovers in the dark, hidden away from the prying eyes of his mother and the Council.
Then the news comes. My father has officially bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen. House Thorne is now a traitor house. I am no longer a guest. I am the daughter of an enemy.
The air at King’s Landing is thick with the scent of dragonfire and impending rain. Aemond stands before me. His armor is cold and unforgiving against my palms. He does not wear his eyepatch. He never wears it when we are alone. The sapphire in his socket catches the dim light of the torches. His hand is steady as it cups my jaw.
I look at him. My heart beats against my ribs like a trapped bird. I think of the guards outside and the executioner’s block.
"You should kill me," I say. My voice shakes. "I am a traitor now. My blood is the blood of the Blacks."
Aemond does not pull away. Instead, he steps closer. He corners me against the cold stone wall of the solar. His shadow looms over me.
"I would end my own life before I ever touched you like that," he says. His voice is a low growl. "Your father’s choices are not yours. You are mine. Only mine."
He leans his forehead against mine. I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. The dragon prince is made of fire, even when his words are like ice. He looks at me with his one good eye. It is full of a pain he never shows the world.
"The God’s Eye beckons," he whispers.
The words feel like a death sentence. We both know Prince Daemon is waiting for him there. This is the battle that will decide everything. Aemond does not ask for my loyalty. He does not ask me to renounce my father. He does not offer an apology for the war he is about to fight.
Instead, he leans down. He presses a single, desperate kiss to my lips. It is a collision of teeth and salt. It is the first time he has truly claimed me in the light of day. It is rough and hungry.
He pulls back just an inch. His breath is ragged.
"I wish we were commoners," he says. "I wish we were nobodies in a village far from here. I would spend my days looking at you instead of staring at maps."
He moves toward the balcony where Vhagar is waiting. The great dragon roars in the distance. The sound shakes the very foundations of the castle. Aemond looks back at me. His silver hair whips in the rising wind.
"You will know my love is there," he promises. "It remains forever, even after the breath leaves my body."
I know I cannot change his mind. He is a prince of the realm and he has a duty to his blood. I reach for him one last time. I kiss him back with everything I have. The love between us is loud enough to drown out the sound of the drums. I watch him mount the dragon and disappear into the dark, rainy sky.
--
The war ends with the scent of ash and the screaming of dragons. The Blacks sit upon the throne. Rhaenyra is Queen, and the world moves on as if the princes of the Green council never existed. I live among the winners, but I feel like a ghost.
My family is restored to favor, yet I am hollow. I refuse every suitor who comes to my father’s hall. I never marry. My heart is at the bottom of the God’s Eye lake, pinned under the scales of a great dragon.
I carry a tattered letter in my bodice for years. It is the last thing he ever gave me. The ink is faded from my thumb rubbing over the words. Following the directions in his messy script, I travel far from King’s Landing. I leave the politics and the heavy stone walls behind.
By the shore stands a small cottage. It is humble and made of dark wood. It is glowing in the golden light of the twilight. What stops my breath is the garden. It is an impossible sea of white carnations. Thousands of them sway in the breeze. The white petals look like fallen snow against the green grass.
An old man is there. He is the groundskeeper, bent over the soil. He looks up as I approach the gate. He does not ask for my name. He does not ask why I am here. He simply smiles with a kind of knowing look.
"The Prince bought this years ago," he says softly. "He told me his dearest would come one day. He said that it was hers."
I walk into the garden. My feet feel heavy. I remember a night in the Red Keep when the walls felt like they were closing in on us.
I was angry and tired of the crown's weight. I had snapped at him during a quiet argument. I told him I would rather live in a small cottage by a lake than live in a golden castle with a prince. I did not mean it to be cruel. I remember he had looked at me with his one eye and said nothing.
I see now that he took every word I spoke as a command. He built the world I asked for, even if he knew he would never get to live in it with me.
In the center of the carnations stands a small stone plinth. It is a symbolic tomb. I know Aemond is not here. His body is lost to the deep water and the rusted armor of his kin. But this place is more real than any grave in the capital. Resting on the stone is a piece of parchment and his leather eyepatch.
I pick up the note first. My fingers tremble.
"Forgive me," the note reads. "My love will endure as long as these petals bloom. In this life, and the next."
I reach for the leather eyepatch. It is worn and smells of old salt and dragon saddle. It is the piece of him he kept for the world, but he left it here for me. I press the leather to my lips. I close my eyes and try to remember the heat of his skin.
I sit by the stone, and I cry. I do not sob loudly. I cry silently, letting the tears fall onto the flowers. The only sound in the world is the soft lapping of the lake against the shore.
He gave me exactly what I wanted. He gave me a home, but he left me alone within it. I stay there until the stars come out, surrounded by the flowers that promise he is still waiting for me somewhere.
--
In the present day
I work as a florist in a city that never stops moving. My shop is usually a riot of color. I handle red roses for passion and yellow tulips for joy. But I am always drawn to the simplicity of white carnations. I keep them in the front window. They feel like a promise that does not need to shout.
For my vacation, I chose to visit the ruins of Harrenhal. The site is now a massive tourist attraction. It is a place of melted stone and dark legends. I walk through the museum section with a crowd. We look at rusted armor and old coins found in the mud.
I stop in front of a glass case. It tells the story of the Lady of the Lake. She was a woman from a fallen house called House Thorne. The plaque says she lived alone in a cottage by the water for decades. She never took a husband. She spent all her days tending to a garden of white carnations.
I read more and learn how the prince gave her a house, but he never lived to make her home. I feel a strange and sharp ache in my chest. It feels like a ghost is pulling at my ribs. I feel a sudden flash of anger. It is an old anger that feels like it belongs to me. I think of the man who left her there. I think of the prince who died in the lake and left his heart in a garden he never visited.
I turn away from the display quickly. I need fresh air to clear my head. I head toward the high battlements to catch the breeze. The wind is strong up here. It smells of rain and ancient dust. I look out over the dark water of the lake.
I find a quiet corner of the stone wall. I am alone for a moment. I look at the gray sky and I find myself whispering to the wind. I am complaining to a man who has been dead for centuries.
"How could you do that?" I whisper. My voice is thick with emotion. "You told her your love would endure. But you left her to wake up in an empty bed every single day. You gave her a roof, but you left her with nothing but silence. You left your dearest all alone."
"She was never alone."
I jump at the sound of the voice. I turn around quickly.
A man is standing a few paces away. He is leaning against the stone wall. He has dark blonde hair that the wind tosses across his forehead. His piercing blue eyes make my skin prickle. He wears a charcoal suit that fits him perfectly. He looks like a man who owns the world, but his expression is soft.
He looks at me with an intensity that makes me forget to breathe. He does not look at me like a stranger. He looks at me like a man who has been searching for a specific face in a crowded room for a very long time.
"I am sorry," I say. I rub my arms to stay warm. "I was just thinking out loud. The history here is very sad."
"It is not just history to some," he says. His voice is deep and rhythmic. He steps closer to me. He does not look at the view. He only looks at me. "You think he was cruel to leave her behind?"
"He was," I say. I feel defensive of the woman in the museum. "He went to a battle he knew he could not win. He left her in a cottage to wait for a ghost. That is a lonely way to live."
The man shakes his head slowly. A small and private smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"He didn't want to leave her," he says. His voice drops to a low murmur. "Every moment he spent away from her was a torment. He built that house because it was the only piece of safety he could give her in a world that was burning. He wanted her to have a place where the war could not find her."
He looks out at the lake for a split second before his gaze snaps back to mine.
"He didn't leave her alone because he wanted to," he continues. "He left her so she could have a life. But he spent every second of his end wishing he could crawl back to that garden. He died with her name as his last thought. To him, she was the only thing that was real."
"How do you know?" I ask.
"I just know.." he said calmly.
I feel my eyes well up with tears. I do not know this man. I do not know why he is talking like this. But his words feel like an answer to a question I have been asking for a thousand years.
"It wasn't enough," I whisper. "A house is just stone and wood without the person you love."
The man steps even closer. He is within arm's reach now. I can feel the heat radiating from him. It is a familiar heat. It feels like fire and ancient hearths.
"I know," he says. The blue in his eyes seems to deepen. "It was a mistake. He should have stayed. He should have let the world burn and stayed by the lake. He has regretted it every day since."
Then a younger man in a uniform hurries up to us. He looks nervous.
"Director Targaryen," the assistant says. "The board is waiting for you in the solar. They are ready to discuss the new floral preservation project."
The man in the suit waves him off. It is a sharp and dismissive flick of his wrist. It is a gesture of pure authority. He does not even look at the assistant.
"Not now," he says.
The assistant bows his head and backs away. The man turns back to me. He ignores the ringing of his phone in his pocket.
"I am the director of this estate," he says. "I spend a lot of time thinking about the people who lived here. Especially the Lady. I have always felt like I owed her an apology for how her story ended."
He looks at me and the air between us feels like it is vibrating.
"Since you have traveled so far," he says. "I could show you the VIP section. It is a private garden by the lake. It is not open to the public yet. I think you would like it."
I do not know why I nod. I usually do not follow men I have just met. But the pull in my chest is too strong to fight. It feels like a rope is tied around my heart and he is pulling the other end.
We walk down a private stone path. The sound of the tourists disappears. As we reach the edge of the water, the scent hits me. It is the overwhelming and sweet spice of thousands of white carnations.
He stops at a gate and holds it open for me. We stand in a field of white petals that glow in the twilight. He looks at me and his blue eyes search my face. He looks like he is finally finding peace.
I walk through the rows of flowers, my fingers brushing against the soft petals. The man in the charcoal suit walks beside me. His presence is heavy and constant.
I look at the gray water of the lake and then back at him. I feel a sudden urge to push him.
"Do you believe in another life?" My voice is soft. "Do you think the prince will eventually find his lady and get the chance to make it up to her?"
He stops walking. He turns to face me, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip. He does not hesitate.
"If it's real, the love will root in his soul in every single life. He will find her," he says. His voice is a low, rhythmic vibration. "He will spend every second of the next life ensuring she never has to wake up in a quiet house again. If it were me, I would give her everything I have. I would burn the world down just to keep her warm, but this time, I would stay by her side to watch it glow."
I feel a shiver crawl down my spine. He speaks with a conviction that feels older than the stones of the castle. I realize then that I have been following him for an hour and I do not even know who he is.
"I realized I never asked your name," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Aemond," he says. Then he gives me a small, knowing smile. "Aemond Targaryen. It is a family name, of course. My mother had a fondness for the old histories. I always thought it was a strange coincidence, especially given my job here."
He looks around at the sprawling estate and the stone walls that loom over the lake.
"I had been looking for a place near the water to reside," he continues. "When this property was shown to me, I felt a pull I could not explain. It felt like you owed someone a home that was actually full of life."
He gestures toward the cottage in the distance. It is the same one from the history books, though it has been beautifully preserved. He lets out a short, dry laugh.
"The history books call it a small cottage," he jokes. "But the prince’s idea of a cottage is quite different from that of normal people. It is still a massive house by any modern standard. I was often asked to open it up for tourists to take a look, but I like to keep it private. It feels like they belong to someone specific."
We walk closer to the plinth where the symbolic tomb stands. The white carnations are everywhere around us.
"The tales say the lady spent all her days here," Aemond says. He looks down at the flowers. "They say she lived among the carnations as if she could feel him loving her through the soil. She stayed faithful to a man who was already gone."
He steps closer to me. The space between us vanishes. I can feel the heat of him, a fire that feels like it has been burning for centuries. He reaches out, his hand hovering just inches from my cheek.
"If it were you," he asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you were that lady, would you forgive him? Could you love him again after all that silence?"
I look into his blue eyes. I see the director of a modern estate, but I also see a shadow of something much deeper. I see the discipline and the pride, but I also see a desperate need for a second chance. I think of the white carnations in my shop and the ache I have felt in my chest since I was a child.
"I think," I say, my voice trembling. "That she already has."
Aemond smiles. It is the smile of a man who has finally found his way home through the dark. He reaches out and his fingers finally brush against my skin.
We stand there among the flowers, two people who should be strangers but feel like the only two souls in existence.
I hope the lady and her prince finally find their way back to one another.
This was so bittersweet but healing. I can’t help but indulge in headcanons now that Aemond and his lady have been given a second chance. This couple tugs at my heartstrings in the best way.
This is just wonderful 💙
A Dragon Without Wings
Pairing • Aemond x Targaryen reader
Tags • sibling incest, reader is 18+, canon divergence, canon typical misogyny, mutual yearning, romantic tension, love confession (sort of)
Wordcount • 4,260
No longer able to bear the way Aemond dismisses you and treats you as fragile, you take the opportunity to disguise yourself as a dragonseed to claim a dragon and prove yourself to him.
Aemond Masterlist
Morning was still thick and heavy over the horizon, but the Red Keep was no longer asleep. Such were the ways of war, and men were early to rise to pour over maps and correspondence, sending their orders to troops on the battlefield and their propositions to reluctant allies. In a way, you admired their steadfastness and determination, and envied the way they were serving the cause, fighting for the realm.
Despite knowing of the horrors of war, and probably should have been relieved to be left out of such proceedings, you wandered around the castle day after day, feeling forgotten and without any use while you longed to defend your family. Not only were you a princess, but you were one without a dragon, and therefore served no purpose other than to be called on and used in a political match.
Being sent away to wed some unknown lord and give birth to his heirs simply for his banners and armies was the most distasteful fate you could imagine, and thinking on it, you far preferred it your tormented wandering.
As such you haunted the castle’s corridors alone, your mother too preoccupied with her daughter who was drowning in grief and her eldest sons—one who laid in bed in agony while the other wore the crown in his stead.
I have finally found my chosen canon for sweet Silverwing. That cuteness is simply meant for a female rider.
Aemond’s overprotectiveness is endearing and mostly annoying so I totally get why his sister doing what she did. I was so giddy when her efforts paid off. Before I even forget, I want to thank her maid for making it all possible 🤭
Now they can proceed to doing war crimes together 💙
We Walk The Plank On A Sinking Ship [Chapter 9: Baby, Seasons Change But People Don't]
Series summary: After Queen Helaena is murdered during Blood and Cheese, the devastated Greens scramble to arrange an advantageous match for Aegon. They settle on you, the sister of Dalton Greyjoy, to forge an alliance with the Red Kraken and his fleet. But when you arrive in King’s Landing, the Usurper is not who you imagined him to be…and to fulfill your purpose, you must give him everything.
Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, blood and violence, death, pregnancy/childbirth/babies, miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), fan fav Beauty's fate is revealed, Aegon continues to be intellectually ungifted, a spooky new addition joins the Targjoy fam 🥰🔮
Series title is a lyric from: “Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?” by Fall Out Boy.
Chapter title is a lyric from: “The Take Over, the Breaks Over” by Fall Out Boy.
Word count: 5.8k
Dividers were made by the wonderful @thecutestgrotto 🎨
🦑 All of my writing can be found HERE! 🦑
Father is dead and has been for years, but he is here nonetheless. He is sitting in the firelight, the great stone hearth with a kraken carved into the overmantel looming, the storm outside battering the windows with rain, the thunder growling. He is surrounded by three cradles, only silhouettes in the gloom, the babies Mother buried at sea. Father is cradling your daughter in his arms, rocking her gently, smiling down at her; and when he touches her tiny wrinkled palm, she grasps his hand because here she is alive again.
Aegon and Pearl are going through it this chapter but it feels like a prelude to something utterly beautiful.
Pearl came from a family that openly accepts the reality of mistresses but because she has feelings it became a complication 😂
I loved how in character it is for Aegon to loving Pearl while still screwing up by going to a brothel to lose himself. Despite the accomplishments he has gained and the love and loyalty from his Queen, he is still healing from all that self resentment and hurt. The love confession made me feel how deeply rooted her effect is on him that even if he fucks up it doesn’t take that love away.
Why do I love them so?! 💙
We Walk The Plank On A Sinking Ship [Chapter 8: The Tombstones Were Waiting]
Series summary: After Queen Helaena is murdered during Blood and Cheese, the devastated Greens scramble to arrange an advantageous match for Aegon. They settle on you, the sister of Dalton Greyjoy, to forge an alliance with the Red Kraken and his fleet. But when you arrive in King’s Landing, the Usurper is not who you imagined him to be…and to fulfill your purpose, you must give him everything.
Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, blood and violence, death, pregnancy/childbirth/babies, miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), ominous foreshadowing, Dalton is maybe-dead, everyone gets cool about the witch wife thing really quickly, nothing good happens in this chapter just skip it!!!
Series title is a lyric from: “Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?” by Fall Out Boy.
Chapter title is a lyric from: “Bang The Doldrums” by Fall Out Boy.
Word count: 6.5k
Dividers were made by the wonderful @thecutestgrotto 🎨
🦑 All of my writing can be found HERE! 🦑
In the Reach under a blazing sun, Aegon is getting his hand stitched back together by the maester pledged to House Footly of Tumbleton. The bustling market town, formerly treasonous, has bent the knee to the Usurper after some persuasion: Sunfyre landing atop their castle, a dead dragon at their doorstep. The corpse of Seasmoke still smolders, cold grey eyes glazed over, wings a motionless leathery shroud. Vermax and Moondancer—both small but very quick—fled southwest once it was apparent the battle was lost. It occurs to Aegon that they gave up almost too easily, without hesitation, without chaos, the surviving Black soldiers following their lead and turning to run like rats from a burning house.
That shared moment between Daeron and Aegon was simply adorable. It’s not very usual we get to witness this brotherhood so this was such a treat for me. There is also my anticipation on how they are actually going to characterize Daeron in the show.
This is the alternate universe where Alys gets the closest to being a legitimate wife of Aemond and I love it a lot. And this is probably the only story where Aemond can achieve his dream to succeed Aegon the Conqueror 🤭
Is the Fossoway knight igniting a rebellion because the princess he writes poems to is in danger? He would be livid once he learned what they’ve done to poor Floris.
Dalton cannot be dead. I am still struggling with the baby’s demise 🥲
Page 12
About this page: Aemond instructs the assassin to stay hidden while he deals with his brother. Aegon thinks Sylvi is in his bedchamber and teases him. Then he notices Aemond’s broken window
@dreamilypurplepillar @myfandompromptsside @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @mermaidslabyrinth @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese @alphard-hydraes-blog @aemondschynnadoll
Page 11
About this page: The assassin tells Aemond the many faced god has a plan for him. Still distrustful, he threatens her. Suddenly there was a loud knock at his door. Who could it be?
@myfandompromptsside @myfandomprompts @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dreamilypurplepillar @persephonerinyes @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese
I know it’s still far off but I am so excited for them to kiss 🤭
Page 10
About this page: The assassin explains she is sent by the many faced god to protect Aemond and shield him from harm. He does believe her.
@myfandompromptsside @myfandomprompts @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dreamilypurplepillar @persephonerinyes @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese
Aemond. Quick with anger and quick with sarcasm.
About this page: About this page: Aemond gets dressed and asks the assassin why she decided to spare him.
@myfandompromptsside @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dreamilypurplepillar @persephonerinyes @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese
#aemond
He really was something here. He should be grateful he has a sexy front and back 🤣
Page 8
About this page: The assassin explains to him that she was sent by Daemon to kill him along with two other men. But she assassinated them instead. Aemond grows suspicious
Tags: @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dreamilypurplepillar @persephonerinyes @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese
That last big panel of them looks so beautiful 💙
Page 7
About this page: Aemond is ready to fight the assassin but she tells him she is not going to harm him. What could this mysterious assassin be doing?
Tags: @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dreamilypurplepillar @persephonerinyes @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese
Page 6
About this page: Aemond figured out the bat was a ploy to get his attention. He fearlessly shouts and threatens the intruder to reveal themself. It turns out to be female assassin sent to kill him.
Tags: @milostkag @slytherincursebreaker @wishfairies @magicovento @21-princess @dragon0queen @maryaandmorevna @dreamilypurplepillar @persephonerinyes @dollfavs @ginny-anime @nocturne-series @venmondiese
I’ve always wondered if she is also of Valyrian descent…or is she is just blonde 🤔
Here’s page 5! Sorry for the long wait! Been busy!
About this page: Aemond opens the wardrobe only to find a little bat. Was it really a bat who broke into his window? Or could it be something else?
Aemond’s look at the lower left portion of the panel was too adorable and very anime-like 🥹 And then I remember he is barely covering himself with a towel and he’s not adorable anymore 🤭
Here’s page 4
About this page: Aemond grabs a dagger nearby and calls out for the intruder. He swore he could hear noises coming from inside his wardrobe.
(Damn Aemond. You need to chill)
Here’s page 3
About this page: Aemond searches for the source of the crash. He enters his room only to see his window has been broken into.