AKOTSK Men and their Attachment Styles, please? who’s most needy and anxious?
AKOTSK men's attachment style and love language
For Baelor, Maekar, Valarr, Dunk, Lyonel, Daeron, Aerion x gn!reader
Baelor
Baelor is definitely a very secure man. He is the definition of a confident, secure man and a walking green flag.
When you leave, or one of you goes away for a few days without your company, I definitely feel like he gets a little anxious and worries about how you are, but nothing too crazy. He just wants to make sure you are happy and comfortable, and you are not being there or away for a time; he worries for your well-being.
He is big on communication, so if he feels anxious or unsure about something in your relationship, he will speak up, and if he sees you feeling anxious or worried will definitely sit you down to talk through it.
He doesn't want anything left unsaid, especially if it hurts him or you.
His love language to you is definitely gift giving. He loves to spoil you and will not hesitate to buy you whatever you want. He doesn't do it to buy your love, but from the simple fact that he just loves to spoil you and deck you in all the best jewels and silks and whatever else your heart desires.
The love language he definitely loves from you is acts of service. He loves it when you help him or offer to do something for him, he mentioned in passing. whether it was mending a shirt he kept forgetting to send to the seamstress, or putting his books away after he left them askew over his desk. or making sure he eats when he gets stuck in endless meetings.
Maekar
Maekar at first is pretty avoidant. He's learnt to be over the years, and suddenly having you there caring for him and asking him if he's eaten or wants any help definitely throws him through the wringer. And definitely after he falls for you, he grows very fearful and tries to push you away out of fear of losing you. It's just who he is - but as he grows used to you, forcing your presence on him every day, he grows a little more secure, but is still definitely in the category of Avoidant fearful.
Being the youngest and always in the shadow of Baelor and always finding himself looking after his brother Rhaegal and fighting for his mother's attention, he was definitely pushed to the back burner of his mother's affections and as a result, he is very independent and has low self-esteem.
He doesn't get what you see in him, even if you spend your days telling exactly what you see and love in him.
He is definitely anxious. When you are away or angry at him, he definitely punishes himself and worries; he overthinks everything when it comes to his relationship with you, because he is definitely someone who falls slowly but hard, but does not communicate how he feels.
His love language with you is quality time. He loves spending hours with you completely uninterrupted. He always makes sure to spend every meal, every tea, and every day where you just wish to spend hours in the gardens of Summerhal together. He wants to spend every moment with you, to the point that he has to be physically torn away from you at times.
You with him always give him words of affirmation. He loves to give them to you, praising you and complimenting every aspect of you. But he really preens when you do it to him. It's the only time he blushes when you call him "handsome" or compliment his physique and skills. He tries to act tough, and those words don't affect him, but he definitely strops when you don't compliment him somehow.
Valarr
Valarr, of course, in anxious and needy. He needs affection nonstop and is the type to pout whenever he has to go days on end without you (the days being the time between lunch and dinner). He needs constant reassurance, and he finds that with you, he gets very jealous. not in a possessive sense but in a longing sense. he can be possessive, of course, I definitely see that with him. But his jealousy can be ov little things like spending time with his little brother Matarays, when he is right there (he wouldn't be, but he is the type to say "you could have come and found me" with a pout on his face)
It's not that he isn't secure - he is, his father made sure of it, but he also worries about all the weight of the realm on him and pleasing his father, that whenever you are away from him, he worries he isn't doing everything he can to make you happy.
His love language is definitely physical touch. He wants to be touching you constantly. if your next to him, he his holding you somehow, kissing you, whether he can. He is big on PDA. He doesn't care where they are; if he wants to hug you or kiss you, he will.
He also loves words of affirmation, from you and him. he loves to give you praise. You are perfect to him, and he makes sure you know it.
He also always makes sure to spoil you, you need never ask for everything because Valarr expects your every need and fulfils it before you even realise you need or want something.
Dunk
Dunk doesn't get what you see in him; you could have anyone you wanted, and yet you choose him. So, as a result,lt he is quite anxious. He wants to make you happy in any way possible, and since he has low self-esteem (seeing as Peter Claffey has never looked in a mirror and doesn't belvie him self to be conventionally attractive). He is definitely worried he'll lose you to someone better, no matter how much he reassures you.
He struggles to communicate his fears, not because he doesn't want to, but just because he knows you won't understand them. To you, Dunk is everything you ever wanted, and no matter how much you reassure him, he knows if he speaks up, you'll leave him a blushing mess as you praise him.
Your love language with him is definitely words of affirmation. All you do his praise him, reassure him and express your love to him, and he loves it, even if it makes him stutter and blush.
With you, his love language is definitely acts of service. He will do anything and everything for you. can't reach something? He's grabbing it. Don't like a particular chore? He's doing it from now on. Do you need anything? Even if its juts killing a spider or speaking to the merchant at the market, he is doing it for you.
Lyonel
He is the definition of a secure man. He is confident in himself and your relationship. He knows what he wants, and he's worked hard to know what you like. He might not be a walking green flag like Baelor, but he is extremely secure in your relationship and communicates his needs clearly.
But despite this, he is a needy guy. he needs touch, and he needs you. When he travels, you are travelling with him. if you need to do something, which means leaving his company, he wants to come with you. It's not from a lack of self-esteem or a need for reassurance and approval in your relationship, but from a sheer want to touch you and be close to you. Your constanlty sat on his lap in feasts. Not a night goes by where he doesn't wrap himself around you entirely in bed.
He doesn't have a set love language. He loves to praise and tease. He loves to touch and hold you. he loves spending his time with you, and he loves spoiling you.
When it comes to your love language with him, he loves acts of service with quality time. He loves it when you go to every part he throws, loves it when you help him plan them. And he loves it when you watch him train for tourneys. He just loves it when you watching him.
Daeron
He is definitely the most needy. He needs your attention. he needs your focus and your love. He adores you and is so anxious every time you leave him, every time he messes up or gets drunk, he worries how you'll react, and worries that you won't take care of him. But of course you do, and he loves it.
He loves it when you take care of him, and it definitely makes him more needy. He needs to touch you, and he needs your words of affirmation. He loves your praise, even when it's sprinkled in with a little degradation.
In your relationship, he is definitely very anxious. He needs constant reassurance and love, and you're more than happy to give it to him, especially as his love language is touch. He is always holding you, hugging you and burying himself in your body.
Aerion
He tries to be avoidant, acts like it, but he isn't. He's actually very needy. in an entirely possessive way. He needs you to know that you are his and only his. It drives him insane and angered when you act like you aren't, he needs to reassure you that he has you. And once he has it, he acts like he does not care. He hates when you check on him, make sure he's eaten and taking care of himself. But when you don't do it, he definitely throws a tantrum and demands you cater to his every need.
His love language is definitely acts of service, and he makes sure you thank him for it. He gives you everything you want or need, and he makes sure you know he is the only one who will do that for you. he is definitely the time to go to the lengths of ordering staff not to listen to you, just so you have to come to him for anything you need.
When it comes to your love language for him, its defienlty words of affirmation. He insists upon it. You have to praise him and compliment how much of a dragon he is. And when he doesn't provoke you to praise it, and you do it of your own accord, he gives you a quick nod of approval, but you know his possessive personality is eating it up.
He's also extremely jealous and will show it through anger and avoidance of you. but hes alwyas the first to come crawling back.
Note: Female reader. She/her pronouns reader. Mentions of violences.
When Daeron came back from Ashford in anything but glory, she rushed to him glad to see him again.
He was a drunk but he was her sweet clingy husband before everything else.
She stopped in her tracks when she saw him and his crumbled face, he looked like a carriage had rolled over him.
Pale, almost grey skin, a few scars, sunken unfocused eyes and his left ear half torn and stitched as much as it could have been.
She looked at him with her soft gaze, surprise and a hint of curiosity in those lovely eyes. She seemed to study his distraught face and it made Daeron's heart deflate in shame. He didn't felt worthy of her soft gaze.
"What have they done to you, my dear?"
"Nothing... It was my fault anyway." He sighed; glancing away looking at nothing really.
She gave him tons of lemoncakes. (He would have preferred some beer cakes.) But he took them anyway, there was real concern in her eyes, a kindness which melted his poor stampled heart. He knew her love was true.
I’ve seen takes from people being unhappy that 90% of akotsk x reader fanfics are with a wife reader. I get it, but like, guys - this was to be foreseen. We live in a time in which dating is complete sh*t. Manosphere is running rampant, younger and younger men and boys are adapting this blatantly misogynistic „worldview” as their own, cognitive abilities and communicative skills are dying, dating app algorithms are literally designed to make you miserable… Finding someone relatively normal, not even special, JUST normal borders impossibility!
And then, in the midst of all that atmosphere, HBO serves us with a bunch of hot men (both older and younger) who are mostly walking greenflags, but like, in a humane way (not counting Aerion ofc, although his actor, Finn Bennett, is cute and seems to be so nice in the interviews), or are at least emotionally vulnerable (here I mostly mean Maekar the Single Mother and Daeron the Poor Tormented Thing).
Like its no surprise that most of us just fell in love lmao
PAIRING — Prince Aerion Targaryen, Prince Daeron Targaryen, Prince Valarr Targaryen x fem!chubby!Reader
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — I spent the evening of my birthday writing this... 🤣 Years ago I wrote something similar for Aemond and to be honest I forgot about this story so I'm glad the person who requested reminded me because I really like the idea (especially for Daeron idk I feel like he has a thing for bigger girls). I decided to write short fics for each of the young Princes. It's not headcanons – each of them has a short fic. Apart from being "bigger" I did not describe Readers in any way. I hope the way I wrote some things is not offensive in any way, I'm a curvy girl myself. 🍑
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, negative thoughts about appearance, bullying
WORD COUNT — 5,100 (1,670 – Prince Aerion Targaryen; 1,510 – Prince Daeron Targaryen; 1,920 – Prince Valarr Targaryen)
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
PRINCE AERION TARGARYEN
Prince Aerion was not pleased with this arranged union from the very beginning. He was a dragon yet his father was forcing him to marry someone? And that someone being a Lady without any Valyrian blood in her? He found that outrageous.
However, after the stunt he had pulled during the tournament, during which his uncle had nearly died, he knew he couldn’t truly protest. It was either marrying to settle down or being banished to Lys.
Not that Aerion would hate it in Lys but he didn’t want to leave home either.
Not many Lords wanted to give their daughters to him. Especially after hearing what had happened at the Ashford Tourney. But one Lord – your father – was rather eager to get rid of you. Or at least that was the impression Maekar had been given.
He couldn’t care less, though. Whether you were rude, evil or simply spoiled – it didn’t bother him. It was not like his son deserved a good wife anyway.
You were terrified on the way to Summerhall. You were aware of Prince Aerion’s nature and you were hundred percent positive he would be disgusted with you and hate you for the mere fact he was to marry you. Perhaps he would humiliate you and call off the wedding even. But it still would be better than him being cruel to you.
You nervously fixed your corset and sighed at the body that belonged to you. It was your body, the only one you had been given, yet you had to worry over it so much just because some people decided it could be better.
A man like Prince Aerion would surely not focus on the fact your round and soft hips could give him many children. Or that the plush of your breasts could offer him comfort. No, he would probably get angry that the wife he was given was not someone he could show off.
After all, this marriage was supposed to be a punishment for him.
What a shame that Prince Maekar and your father hadn’t thought about the fact that it would be a punishment for you as well to live with a man like that. But a punishment for what exactly? Not being slim enough?
You nearly fainted out of stress when you left the carriage at the Summerhall’s courtyard. You looked around at the unfamiliar faces that you would call your family from now on.
The eldest – Prince Maekar – had a very unpleasant expression. You swallowed thickly, assuming he was displeased with you. The silver-haired young man next to him had to be your future husband because your father had told you already that Prince Daeron had blond hair.
You bowed your head at the sight of them and a long silence occurred.
Next to Prince Aerion there stood his two sisters – Princess Daella and Princess Rhae. Rhae was still a child but Princess Daella was becoming a young lady already and you already knew she would outshine your beauty in no time.
Everyone kept staring at you with curiosity, which was making the whole thing even more humiliating.
“Welcome, my Lady,” Prince Maekar approached you first and kissed the back of your hand. “I hope the journey was not too tiresome.”
“No, my Prince. Not at all,” you assured him and he nodded, leading you inside.
You walked past Aerion who did not say anything, only kept staring.
His sisters, however, ran after you and began to ask you hundreds of questions. Thankfully, they seemed to like you right away.
Prince Aerion was not talking to you at all. It was as if he was ignoring you – which was probably better than being treated cruelly by him – but not exactly. He was observing you like a hawk, therefore you couldn’t feel ignored.
By the breakfast table, his eyes were following your every movement. It was the same during supper. And during the day, whenever your paths crossed, he was looking you up and down before walking away.
“He is not pleased with you because you’re not a Targaryen,” Daella confessed one evening, not too long before your wedding day. “He always hoped to marry within the family or at least to get married with someone of Valyrian descent,” she added.
You nodded at her as you glanced at the mirror. You weren’t sure that was the real reason for Prince Aerion’s disapproval of you.
On the night before your wedding feast, you found yourself wandering around the gardens. The night was warm and you couldn’t sleep because the moon was so bright.
As you walked through the flower bushes in a flowy nightgown that emphasised every single of your soft curves, you suddenly heard a crack behind you. Instinctively, you grabbed the hems of your robe and wrapped it tighter around you.
You turned around and spotted Prince Aerion. He was smirking as he watched you from afar.
“Are you afraid of me, little wife?” He asked and took a few steps closer.
Those were the very first words he said directly to you. You blinked a few times and moved away slightly.
“Why are you running away from me? You belong to me now,” he tilted his head.
“Not yet. On the morrow,” you swallowed thickly, trying to figure out his intentions.
Aerion, however, did not bother himself with any of that. He stood so close to you that he could smell the fear on your breath. He chuckled to himself and patted your hands. You furrowed your brows at him and he patted your hands again, which caused you to stop clinging to the hems of your robe.
After that, he unwrapped it and pushed it down so it fell onto a rocky garden path. You were in nothing but your nightgown now and he could see nearly everything due to the bright moonlight.
He licked his lips and your skin began to burn from embarrassment.
“Your… Your sister told me you were displeased,” you confessed. “That you hoped to marry a Targaryen.”
“I’ve come to terms with it already,” Aerion shrugged. “I think you will do fine.”
You blinked a few times, not believing his words. Was it one of his cruel games?
“I… I will?” You asked.
“You will carry many dragons for me,” he smirked as his eyes sparkled.
You nodded and looked down. It was good that he did find you useful after all but it still hurt to realise you would be nothing but a womb for him.
“You remind me of Queen Rhaenyra in this light,” he added and you lifted your gaze, a bit taken aback by such a compliment.
Was he truly comparing you to a Queen?
“I… Thank you, my Prince,” you bowed your head and he smiled to himself.
“You see? It is easy to please me after all,” he remarked before taking a few steps back. You nodded. You got the message. You just had to be obedient and he wouldn’t hurt you. That seemed like a fair deal.
He walked away and you picked up your robe before hurrying back to the castle. A bit more hopeful about your future.
A few weeks after your marriage a huge fight between Prince Aerion and his father disturbed the peace of the whole castle. Both men were arguing about the duties and responsibilities but you chose to stay silent. You didn’t want to enrage your husband. In fact, you retired to your chambers earlier but still could hear them arguing from the bed.
You swore that someone even threw something at the other one.
Eventually, your fuming husband entered your chambers and closed the doors behind him with a kick. You moved uncomfortably on the bed. You hadn’t seen him so angry before and you were scared he would take it out on you.
“Wife,” he began, his eyes gleaming with madness, his face flushed. “I am absolutely outraged,” he informed you.
“I can see, husband,” you cleared your throat.
“How dare he… How dare he say such things about me?!” Aerion was pacing around the room with clenched fists.
“He is your father, he worries,” you tried to reason with him but it caused your husband to freeze and look at you in a berating manner.
“Are you taking his side?”
“No, gods, no!” You shook your head nervously. “But it hurts me to see a father and his son argue this much,” you quickly explained.
Aerion softened at those words. He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, right next to you.
“Can I help, my Prince?” You asked, carefully. “Offer you some comfort?” You asked.
Aerion hesitated but he eventually nodded, moving closer to you. To your surprise, instead of grabbing your waist and pushing you down onto the mattress, he lowered his head and pressed his flushed cheek to your soft bosom.
You were petrified at first but after a few shaky breaths, you dared to run your fingers through his silver hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in your scent. His arms wrapped around your waist as he snuggled closer to you. Judging by the way his muscles began relaxing, he was calming down.
“Hm,” he said finally. “Having a wife is a much better concept than I thought,” he admitted and you cracked a smile. “What do you think, wife?” Aerion looked up to meet your gaze.
“I think having a husband can be nice sometimes, yes,” you agreed, carefully teasing him but he didn’t seem to mind. He only smiled and snuggled your breasts again.
He squeezed his arms tighter around you and… purred. Like a cat. Or a dragon would. And then you realised the way he was clinging to you resembled a dragon protecting his treasure.
You smiled to yourself.
“Why did you stop brushing my hair?” Aerion whined.
“Oh, forgive me,” you quickly went back to caressing the hair and gently massaging his scalp.
“Good little wife,” he purred at that.
PRINCE DAERON TARGARYEN
You were promised to Prince Daeron ever since you were children. An heir to Summerhall, Prince Maekar’s eldest son. Your father had befriended him during some tourney many years ago but you lived too far away to actually visit your betrothed before growing up to be old enough to become his wife.
Therefore, you were supposed to meet him on the day of your arrival to his castle to become his wife. On your way there, the mood inside the carriage was silent. Everyone knew – including your family – that you would bring disappointment to the young Prince.
“Let’s just hope he is not unkind,” your mother mumbled out when the carriage stopped.
Your heart began to pound as you looked down at your body. You swallowed thickly. You were bigger than other ladies and there was no lying about it. No matter how tightly the corset was tied, it was visible. Your breasts were nearly flooding out of the cleavage, your round bottom made the fabric stick out, your soft wide hips the only thing that gained compliments but you never treated them as such. Was it really a compliment to hear about being able to birth many children? You didn’t think so.
When you left the carriage with the help of your father, you nearly fainted and threw up. Your father greeted his old friend as they hugged and the younger man standing behind his father was staring at you curiously.
He had dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes. His face was of a soft kind and he seemed to be nice. You hoped he was nice.
What you knew for certain, though, was his reputation of a drunkard. You wished he wouldn’t be one of those aggressive ones.
Prince Daeron looked you up and down and then a wide smirk appeared on his face. You couldn’t tell if it was a smirk of contempt, though. You weren’t sure.
“My Lady,” he approached you and kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome to Summerhall,” he added.
“My Prince,” you bowed down. “I hope I do not disappoint,” you dared to suggest.
“Not at all,” he quickly said and then his eyes got sadder somehow. “But I am sure I do.”
You furrowed your brows but you were not given a chance to inquire about anything else. His sisters already ran to you to ask you thousands of questions.
Daeron was nothing but kind to you. He would pull your chair, pour you a glass of water or a goblet of wine by the table. But he wasn’t spending any time with you that was not necessary. Your wedding day was coming soon and it seemed like he merely tolerated you.
He was spending his evenings outside the castle. You were told by a servant that it was probably at a tavern… or a brothel. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head.
Of course he would have whores. The marriage wouldn’t change that, you sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. He was a young Prince and he wanted a pretty girl to warm his bed. You would be nothing but a duty.
It was still more than you had been hoping for – you would be treated kindly and with respect. Yet, it still stung.
On the morning of your wedding, Prince Daeron could not be found. At first the fact was hidden from you so you wouldn’t panic but as hours passed and he still wasn’t back, you had to be informed.
You were sitting on the sofa with your mother’s arm around you as she was caressing the white fabric of your wedding gown on your shoulder. Meanwhile, your angry father was having an argument with Prince Maekar about disrespect and Daeron running away from his duties.
But you knew the truth. He wasn’t running away from his duties. He was running away from you.
He had been trying to be kind to you but when the time came, he proved to not be brave enough to marry a woman like you.
“Forgive me!” You snapped suddenly as you stood up abruptly. “I need fresh air.”
Everyone nodded at you and watched you leave the chamber. You hurried outside and straight to the garden behind the castle. You needed solitude.
There was a corner hidden behind the abandoned flower bushes that grew way too tall. You hid there and sobbed, hiding your face in your hands. Oh, how embarrassing it felt. You felt like a jester in that white wedding gown.
Had you truly been thinking a woman like you would become a wife to a Prince?
Suddenly, something moved inside one of the bushes. You got startled as you gasped, taking a few steps back until your back hit the castle wall.
To your surprise, Prince Daeron emerged from the bush. He looked like a mess with his hair ruffled and a few leaves were tangled within them. His eyes were hazy and he swayed as he took a step ahead.
“M’Lady,” he mumbled out and you realised he was drunk. “Why’r you cryin’?” He asked, his foggy eyes searching for yours.
“Prince Daeron!” You exclaimed. “The whole castle is searching for you!”
“Why?”
“It is…” You bit on your lower lip, embarrassed. “It is supposed to be our wedding day.”
“’m sorry, I can’t…” He slurred out after a short silence. You nodded as you fought back the fresh tears.
“I… I understand,” you whispered, looking down.
“I can’t… Y’re too good f’me,” he confessed and you furrowed your brows before looking at him again. Had you heard right?
“Pardon?”
“’m a mess,” Daeron chuckled and looked up as if he was rolling his eyes at the gods above. “Can y’even imagine me a husband?”
“I can,” you nodded, nervously playing with the hem of your sleeve. “I’ve been prepared to become your wife ever since I was a little girl.”
“I know,” he nodded and took another swaying step ahead. Your breath got caught in your breast when he placed his hand on your soft cheek and leaned in so close that his nose nearly brushed yours. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”
“M-me, my Prince?” You asked, unsurely.
“Mhm, yes, you,” Daeron looked down at your bosom and then back at your face. He seemed to sober up a bit all of a sudden and his eyes sparkled. “Fuck, I’d love to be married to you. But you deserve better than me.”
As you blinked slowly, you realised that he actually desired you for those things you were insecure about. You were not born yesterday, you knew some men liked curves on women.
But you didn’t expect Prince Daeron to be one of them. Suddenly, you felt a boost of confidence.
“Nonsense, my Prince!” You scolded him. “Go take a bath and make yourself presentable because you’re meeting me at the sept in an hour!” You ordered him and he smirked, a bit surprised but also amused. “Quick!” You clapped your hands and he shook his head with a chuckle.
“You sure?” He asked. “There will not be a way to call this off after tonight.”
“Yes! Go!” You shushed him away and he walked away, swaying slightly and shaking his head as he laughed. He laughed like a madman; loud and without a reason at all.
At least for you there was no reason. But you fixed your dress with a breath of relief as a small smile tugged at your lips.
He was a clingy husband. His hand was always resting on your soft thigh or wrapped around your waist. He would sit you on his lap and bury his face between your breasts for you to play with his hair and kiss his forehead. You were his safe space where he felt less burdened and where warmth spread throughout his body – you were the source of it.
He was still plagued with his dreams, he still liked to drink too much, but he was your cuddly husband who would never get angry with you no matter what.
And he was absolutely mesmerised by you. He didn’t care about being in public at all. Everyone could see how much he adored you. The way he was dreamily staring at your breasts, your swaying hips and your round bottom. The way he would pull you down to sit on his lap even during a feast with important guests around. You would giggle and throw your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Some gossiped you acted like two commoners but Daeron couldn’t care less.
“You were gods-sent to me, wife,” he slurred out one evening between many sweet kisses.
“Stop saying nonsense,” you chuckled and pulled the hair strand away from his face. “Hm, I like it when your hair is tied in the back,” you realised.
“Good. I will be wearing my hair tied in the back then,” Daeron nodded, staring at you lovingly.
“You really do love being ordered around, don’t you?” You sighed with an adoring smile.
“Only by you.”
PRINCE VALARR TARGARYEN
You had never been to King’s Landing, you were from a castle very far away. But you were a daughter of an important Lord and King Daeron wanted a peaceful alliance between your father and the crown. He had offered his grandson – Prince Valarr – to you.
When your father announced that by the table, instead of feeling happy like most young ladies would, you felt sick in your stomach.
“Prince Valarr is handsome, is he not?” Your younger sister asked. “So I’ve heard.”
“As if it was the most important thing!” Your mother scolded her. “He is the future King.”
“Are you going to accept the offer, father?” You asked, shakily.
“Of course! What kind of fool would I be if I rejected it?!” His eyes widened when he realised you seemed unsure.
“But… But…” You were looking for the right words. You didn’t expect him to understand.
Your mother did. She held your hand and gave you a smile.
“We will deal with that,” she told you.
You breathed out of relief but what you didn’t know was that her way of dealing with that was cutting your food portions in half and ordering maids to start tying your corsets way too tight.
She was the same on the way to King’s Landing. You were on the verge of fainting each day and yet, when you were looking at your legs, stomach, breasts and arms while changing clothes, you still could see the same image as all those moons ago. The body of a woman who was unworthy of a Prince. He could have any other woman in the Realm.
And he probably would. Men like him were never faithful.
Prince Baelor greeted you with a very kind smile. You couldn’t believe how kind, actually.
And then he took a step back to introduce you to his son. You felt your cheeks burning at the sight. Oh yes, he was a handsome young man indeed.
And you were… you. In a way, you felt bad for ruining his future.
“My Lady,” Prince Valarr approached you to kiss the back of your hand. “Welcome to King’s Landing. I hope you find it homely in no time.”
“Thank you, my Prince. I am sure I will,” you nodded.
Prince Valarr took a step back immediately after and clasped his hands behind his back.
He avoided looking at you, you realised. So you looked away, too, embarrassed.
Proper. That was the best way to describe him. He was proper with you – pulling a chair for you, taking you on long and silent walks around the Red Keep, asking you to cheer on him during his training. But he wasn’t even looking at you or asking any important questions about you to get to know you better.
Therefore, you didn’t ask anything about him either. You feared being seen as desperate.
There were many beautiful ladies at court and you wondered if he loved any of them. And if so – which one? It would be hard to tell because they all seemed to hate you. The way they were staring at you was full of pity and contempt.
And you couldn’t blame them. Each of them would make a better Queen than you. Prettier.
You were trying to bravely remember that marriages like that were not about love and he would have to marry you no matter what. It was only a political alliance. And it was the way he was seeing it, therefore you should as well.
You were coming back from the library when you walked past a chamber full of young ladies. The doors were ajar, therefore you could hear them.
“Oh, she’s awful!” One of the women chuckled and you furrowed your brows, slowing down to be able to hear more.
“Poor Prince! He could marry any woman in this Realm or beyond and they force him to marry… that thing,” another woman added viciously.
Your heart skipped a beat at her words. It was obvious they were talking about you.
“Careful, friend, it is your future Queen you’re talking about! That might be considered treason,” another woman chuckled, clearly jesting.
The women burst into laughter.
“No, but honestly. Can you imagine him bedding her?” The first one asked but you didn’t wait to hear the answer.
You hurried ahead of you to get as far away from them as possible. Tears of humiliation were streaming down your cheeks already and you seeked the solitude of your own chambers.
On your way, with your eyes foggy from tears, you bumped into someone.
“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed and then you gasped at the realisation that it was your surprised betrothed.
“My Lady?” Prince Valarr asked with furrowed brows.
“My Prince, forgive me…!” You shook your head and kept on running towards your chambers.
But he followed you. When he saw you closing the doors in his face, he swallowed thickly as he hesitated. He shouldn’t walk inside but he needed to make sure you were alright.
“My Lady, I must know what is wrong,” he insisted and you sobbed when you realised he walked inside after you. “Please…” He whispered, standing close to the door in case you wanted to throw him out.
After all, you weren’t supposed to be left alone in a room alone. But the wedding would take place in a week anyway.
“I’m sorry!” You kept on sobbing as you sat on the edge of the bed and hid your face in your hands, your body trembling.
“For what, my Lady?” Valarr carefully approached you.
“For what I look like,” you finally whispered, lifting your wet eyes to look at his shocked face. You didn’t care that it was embarrassing to act so vulnerable. Everyone knew anyway what you had just said.
“I don’t understand,” Valarr blinked slowly a few times, trying to process your words.
“Oh, please!” You groaned out of frustration. “I am… Well… Big! Bigger than all those beautiful ladies that would make better Queens than I would! I know you were raised to be a gentleman and you hide your disappointment well but there is no need to! I know I’m a disappointment for you and the whole Realm!” You snapped at him and hid your face in your hands again.
Valarr swallowed the lump in his throat and awkwardly sat next to you.
“Do you think so low of me? That I would care about such matters, my Lady?” He asked, quietly. His voice sounded a bit offended indeed. “You are a noble woman sent here to become my wife and it is my duty to protect and respect you. Nothing else matters…” He took a deep breath in. “Has… Has someone made you feel otherwise?”
He wasn’t stupid. He knew your sudden outburst had to be caused by something specific.
“The ladies, they… Well, they have only spoken the truth,” you sniffled and looked at his face. His jaw clenched and those pretty mismatched eyes looked so deep into yours that you gasped. He had never looked so intensely at you before.
“Which ladies?” He inquired.
“It does not matter,” you insisted. “Please, my Prince, let’s not–”
“Alright then. But if you change your mind, tell me whenever,” he nodded and looked down. A silence occurred. “Why do you think I hide disappointment? Have I ever made you feel undeserving?” He asked, eventually.
You didn’t know it but he panicked internally that he was failing as a betrothed.
“You never… You never look at me,” you pointed out.
“It would be improper to stare for too long, we are not yet married,” Valarr explained, looking at you with wide eyes. “I had no idea you wanted me to… look.”
“You never asked anything about me either,” you added.
“I don’t mean to be pushy. I wanted you to start the subject but you never did, so…”
“Oh,” you whimpered and he cracked a smile.
“Oh indeed,” he nodded and reached out his hand to hold yours. It was cold and shaky as you realised he was nervous. “You are to be my wife.”
“I know,” you rolled your wet eyes and sniffled again. “You must respect and protect me, it is a duty and you take duties very seriously.”
“I do, it is true,” Valarr nodded. “But I really do…” He blushed. “I do find you pretty,” he looked down shyly. “I have never… I have never been so close with a woman before and… I sometimes don’t know what to do. I’m sorry I was not a good betrothed. I will do better.”
Your heart clenched inside of your chest. You squeezed his hand tighter.
“My Prince, it is alright, I–”
“I’m sorry I made you doubt your worthiness and beauty,” he looked at you.
“I’m sorry for my outburst of self-pity,” you whispered and he shook his head.
“Nothing to apologise for,” he assured you and hesitated before leaning in to peck your lips delicately. His cheeks were now as red as tomato and he breathed heavily. “I… I should leave now.”
You nodded, letting go of his hand.
On the next day there was a picnic with all the young ladies of the court and the knights. You were there, too, sitting on a blanket amongst all those women staring at you with smirks on their faces. Prince Valarr was standing by the tree nearby and talking to a few other knights.
The servants brought cakes and put them in front of you. You truly wanted to taste them but you knew your mother would berate you for that. Besides, you knew it would look humiliating if you were the first one to reach for them.
The other ladies grabbed the cakes fast and left the plate empty before you realised. There was nothing left for you. Perhaps it would be for the better.
You turned around pretending not to be bothered as the ladies giggled between each other.
“My Lady?” A familiar voice interrupted you. The women stiffened and you looked up with a soft smile at the sight of Valarr standing above you. He had approached you with a plate of cakes that had been handed to him and the knights by the servants as well. “Aren’t those your favourites?” He asked, sweetly. You nodded, hesitantly.
“They are, my Prince… I… I am not hungry, though, thank you,” you lied.
He crouched down to place the plate in front of you anyway.
“You might change your mind later,” he said. “They’re all for you,” he said, making sure the other ladies could hear him. You nodded your head.
He hesitated for a while but he finally dared to lean in and kiss your cheek. You heard a few gasps but you put a hand on his chest. He held it and caressed your fingers.
“You present yourself very pretty today, my Lady. Forgive me, I couldn’t help myself,” he whispered but the ladies sitting nearby could hear very clearly.
“Consider yourself forgiven, my Prince,” you chuckled and he nodded with a smile before standing up to join his friends again.
You took one of the cakes and glanced at the ladies surrounding you. Each one of them looked down, embarrassed.
“They truly are my favourites,” you said after taking a bite. Valarr’s kiss was still lingering on your cheek and spreading warmth throughout your body. When you turned around to look at him, he gave you a beautiful smile.
Warning: Female reader (referred as wife), no House specified for the reader, son is named Rhaenar (cool Valyrian name!). Mention of Baelor.
Note: English is not my first language.
When Valarr had his first son with you, he was so overjoyed, he threw a celebration which lasted for THREE weeks.
Valarr picked the wetnurses himself, he's more protective than he'll cares to admit.
Valarr pretends he doesn't care about stuff like stuffed toys or cute outfits (he's too serious for this) but he secretly hires the most skilled seamstresses in the Realm to make the most adorable dragon-themed items for Rhaenar and tell everyone it was one of his dear wife's (you) ideas!
The moment Rhaenar learned to talk he mimicked Valarr's habit of calling you 'sweetheart' or 'dearest' in a very adorable way.
Valarr acts like a strict father but would spoils Rhaenar behind your back. (He would do anything for his boy). ANYTHING.
Rhaenar is a little ball of energy and gets into mischief often, climbing onto furniture and breaking fragile trinkets. He raided the solar so many times that now a guard is tasked to watch over him 27/7.
Rhaenar loves his little wooden sword more than anything. He pretends to be Aemon Dragonknight and Valarr encourages him.✨
Rhaenar always when his grandpa reads him bedtime stories. He can't sleep without hearing his bedtime stories.
Summary - You were a merchant from the Summer Isles and met Prince Valarr on the market.
Note: Reader is implied to be Black/Dark-skinned since the Summer Isles are more or less the equivalent of Africa in the World of an ASOAIF. Female reader.
The travel to Westeros had been longer than she had expected, she hoped it will be worth the while. She needed to sell everything she had for a good price which is her opinion was the most she could convince her future customers to pay. Money was crucial. She had brought fruits, wooden artifacts and many more.
She was in Westeros, she had never been there ever before. It was a whole new world full of challenges.
"Wooden shields! Masks! Clothes! Fruits! All straight from the Summer Isles!" She announced loudly.
Many children had gathered just to look at her, they had never seen anyone from the Summer Isles and they were curious. Childlike wonder. They gushed about she looked like a stately raven.
Valarr was walking around accompanied by a Kingsguard. He knew it was for his own safety but sometimes he wanted autonomy, a bit of freedom wouldn't be too much asked.
He passed through the market when he stopped.
"What may be this thing?" He wondered to himself.
"Banana! It's edible!" She grinned. "Everything on my stall is from the Summer Isles; as much as myself."
Valarr stared at her straight in the eyes, their gazes locked and Valarr was struck by her bright radiant smile. His heart pounded faster in his chest as she handed him a fruit he had never seen before, his hands were trembling slightly, something he hoped she didn't notice. He took a bite and to his surprise she bursted in laughter.
"You're supposed to peel it." She giggled.
Valarr tripped over his words.
"I… see. Thank you."
Valarr felt like a fool; it was such an uncommon feeling for him, he straightened up a bit. He gave her a sidelong stare and after peeling it, he eat the banana in less than a minute, he pratictacally gulped it. It was the most delicious thing he had ever ate in his life. And he was the second in line to the throne, he had all the best food in Westeros but this was different and he enjoyed this difference.
Valarr looked into her deep eyes and her thick hair woven with colorful bands. His face grew warmer and he handed a full purse.
"You could sell your goods in the Red Keep, I'll have you meet the King. It's my grandsire." He grinned with twinkling eyes. He wouldn't admit but he was bragging.
Valarr continued to telll her how much of a sensation she would be in court. He didn't allow himself to hesitate. She was going with him and no matter what.
She listened to him enthralled; it was a golden opportunity and she wouldn't let it slip.
Okay, I know that in Westeros it's not so easy to annul marriages, but let's pretend for the sake of the plot
Warning: Mentions of miscarriages
Btw, I'm thinking of writing more about Maekar and this Reader. Would you be interested?
As I always say, if you liked it, please don't hesitate to like, comment, and reblog. Comments really motivate me and make me happy 🥰💖💖
And if you're interested, my commissions are still open, or you can also support me with a Ko-fi; that would be a huge help too 🥰🤗
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.
I hope you all enjoy it!
You think you know why Maekar Targaryen chose you as his wife when no other man would even consider it. He doesn't want any more children, and everyone in the Seven Kingdoms believed you couldn't conceive. Your first husband announced it to the whole world when he asked for your marriage to be annulled because you did not give him the heirs he so desperately needed.
It had been humiliating for you to return to court with such a stain; you could see the pitying looks of the other ladies and the whispers of the men, as most of the men turned away from you and the few men who spoke to you seemed not to take you seriously, as if they only wanted to get between your legs and leave, as if the fact that you could not have children meant that you no longer deserved a proper courtship.
That's why you were surprised when Prince Maekar began courting you. He was honest with you, telling you that, besides seeking companionship, what mattered most to him was someone to help him raise his children. And you accepted, ready to care for his children as if they were your own, giving them the love you could never give your own babies.
You enjoyed brushing Rhae and Daella's hair, helping them with their sewing and making them pretty dresses, telling Egg stories of knights, and listening to Aemon talk about every new thing he learned. You were truly happy with your new family.
Especially with your husband. Maekar wasn't a man who made public displays, but that's not something that bothered you. You knew he cared for you; he showed it with small gestures, like when he noticed you were uncomfortable in the presence of a lord. Maekar had no problem excusing the two of you so you could leave, or ultimately shielding you with his own while intimidating the intruder with his piercing gaze. He also showed his affection when the day was over, and you were exhausted: he would carefully undo your hairstyles himself, his fingers gently caressing your scalp. Or when he surprised you by taking you to the lake to teach you to swim after you mentioned during a conversation with your stepchildren that you had never been fishing or swimming.
You feel fortunate to have this new life.
Until the maester informs you that you are pregnant, before you have even celebrated your first wedding anniversary with Maekar.
“Are you upset?” you ask your husband once the maester has left and you are alone.
“Am I upset? Why the hell would I be upset?” Maekar asks, surprised that’s your first assumption, sitting down next to you on the bed and taking your hand.
“Maekar, you complain about the kids at least twice a week,” you reply, looking at him as if it were obvious.
“Yes, I do, because they’re little demons,” your husband says without a hint of shame. “But you know I love them, just like I’m going to love this baby even though it’ll probably help me age prematurely,” Maekar says, hoping to make you smile as he places his hand on your still-flat stomach.
You smile, but he can see its not your usual smile; there's something bothering you. "What's going through your little head?"
"It's just that I don't want you to get your hopes up," you say, defeated, as if you already knew how this was going to end.
Seeing you like this hurts Maekar.
You had told him about the suffering you endured during your first marriage. In all those years, you became pregnant twice but lost both pregnancies too early. Maekar wanted to kill your first husband when you confessed that you had only agreed to the annulment because you could no longer bear the insults and how that bastard always blamed you for not being able to conceive, how miserable and disgusted he made you feel about your own body.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. This time it might end differently,” he says softly as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Just promise me that if I lose the baby, nothing will change between us,” you say, looking at him with uncertainty. You couldn't bear the thought of Maekar becoming cold and distant with you; it would break your heart to see the person who's supposed to be your ally, your partner, and your support for the rest of your life become a stranger again. You feel a lump in your throat at the thought of Maekar calling you a demon and accusing you of killing his son. Part of you knows you're letting fear get the better of you; Maekar doesn't seem like that kind of man, but you can't help it.
“I promise,” Maekar says instantly, his voice firm but his gaze warm. “You don't have to worry about that.” He kisses you, and some of the tension you felt leaves you.
You want to believe him. You want to believe that no matter the outcome, everything will be alright.
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Warning: Female reader (referred as wife), no House specified for the reader, son is named Rhaenar (cool Valyrian name!). Mention of Baelor.
Note: English is not my first language.
When Valarr had his first son with you, he was so overjoyed, he threw a celebration which lasted for THREE weeks.
Valarr picked the wetnurses himself, he's more protective than he'll cares to admit.
Valarr pretends he doesn't care about stuff like stuffed toys or cute outfits (he's too serious for this) but he secretly hires the most skilled seamstresses in the Realm to make the most adorable dragon-themed items for Rhaenar and tell everyone it was one of his dear wife's (you) ideas!
The moment Rhaenar learned to talk he mimicked Valarr's habit of calling you 'sweetheart' or 'dearest' in a very adorable way.
Valarr acts like a strict father but would spoils Rhaenar behind your back. (He would do anything for his boy). ANYTHING.
Rhaenar is a little ball of energy and gets into mischief often, climbing onto furniture and breaking fragile trinkets. He raided the solar so many times that now a guard is tasked to watch over him 27/7.
Rhaenar loves his little wooden sword more than anything. He pretends to be Aemon Dragonknight and Valarr encourages him.✨
Rhaenar is always happy when his grandpa reads him bedtime stories. He can't sleep without hearing his bedtime stories.
