Aemond x male valyrian dragonrider reader? Other than the Targaryens and velaryons there was another valyrian family that survived the doom, but unlike the other two this family was already very powerful in old valyria, after the doom they rebuilt themselves in essos. As well as having the most dragons (and the biggest) out of the descendants of valyria.
Anyways sowrry for the extra lore I just made up lol, aemond and reader meet when the Targaryens (and velaryons) are visiting reader's to-be-kingdom to establish an alliance
Zālagon and Vhagar// Aemond Targaryen x Male!reader.
Summary: You are the heir of a powerful valyrian House in Pentos. But the only thing you wished for was to fly day and night with your dragon. Only the lonely Prince Aemond can make the future look promising. Part 2
A/n: hi, thank you for reaching, I absolutely looooved the idea. I struggled a bit cuz it's so good it deserved a better pacing. I hope you like what I came up with. Gif not mine.
※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※As much as you were begged to be punctual, you and your dragon were distracted by the beautiful mountains that surrounded you. It was already dark when you arrived, and the carriages were the first thing you saw, then you caught sight of the dragons. Only one of them was comparable to yours, a green dragon. They all roared as you passed by, but your dragon remained calm until you reached the place where the others of its kind were resting. You couldn't even get water over your body before you were pushed by one of the lords of the castle to hurry up. There was no one at the entrance, nor in the throne room, which meant that they were already at dinner, and that you would be embarrassing your father. In your riding clothes, smelling of dragon, and sweaty from the run to the castle, the guards announced you and opened the gates. Blonde (and other brown) heads turned to look at you, and only your mother stood up to greet you. Giving you a kiss and apologising on your behalf, you were able to observe the family closely. King Viserys, old but kindly, said it was all right to wait for you. His wife, russet-haired, young and beautiful, remained serious. The heiress, Rhaenyra, watched without mock attire, smiling, though more to herself than to you. Her husband Daemon barely gave you a glance, not looking pleased with the event. Jace and Luke were the only brown haired boys at the table. Not even their eyes had Valyrian features, but they were formal. Aegon was more intent on filling his wine cup when dinner had not even begun, and his sister-wife Helaena was whispering things only she could hear. And all of them were easily overshadowed by him, Aemond Targaryen. His gaze did not lose power even after he kept one eye covered, and it was fixed on you. There was no expression, but you couldn't take your eyes off him either, engrossed in his whole persona.
You were seated opposite your father, and Aemond stood some distance away. But that didn't stop him from captivating you, and the exchange of glances became frequent. Your father spoke and listened to the king. The only other participant in the conversation was Jace, and Rhaenyra listened as her husband whispered things to her pointedly. Queen Alicent was quietly scolding every gesture of Aegon, who flirted shamelessly with anyone who came near him. You could see how your father tried to engage you in conversation, but whenever he caught your eye, you found your mind elsewhere (mostly in the Prince) and never responded nimbly. You could feel your father scolding you with his eyes.
"Have you come from flying?" The King asked you suddenly.
Everyone looked at you, it was quite obvious, but you couldn't just point it out to the king, so you nodded and tried to concentrate on something other than that serious blond prince.
"Yes, Your Majesty... I fly almost every day."
"That's when I enjoy it most, actually." Your answer brought a smile to his face, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as Aemond settled into his seat, sipping from his cup as he looked at you.
"My, you are a boy of courage," Viserys rewarded you.
"Though a foolish one too," your father interrupted. "He has trouble telling day from night."
You flushed, and the atmosphere grew a little tense. No one likes to hear that hateful tone between father and son.
"When one rides such a magnificent creature, my lord, time loses all meaning." Aemond's voice drew everyone's attention away. His hand caressed his goblet, and as he looked at your father with an expression of superiority. "Your son does well to presume what have made you mighty all these years."
Then he looked back at you, and you saw his expression soften. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face, full of gratitude, and in complete agreement with him. Though your idea of dragons was not one to brag, it was certainly a useful one. You listened to your father try to find the right words without sounding offended.
"True, Prince Aemond," your mother supported him gently. "My husband has not ridden for years, but I have always admired our son's flying abilities. I've heard that Princess Rhaenyra first rode a dragon at the age of eight..."
"That's right," said the King, smiling at his daughter.
You watched as the Prince disappeared back into the shadow of his elder sister, only you seemed to be in awe of him, and you could not help but interrupt.
"Prince Aemond is the rider of Vhagar, the last dragon of the conquest, Mother." And then you watched as everyone fell silent again. The Velaryon brothers seemed to tense, and Aegon looked amused.
"The only dragon comparable to ours...no offence..." you continued. "How old were you when you claimed her?"
"He stole her," Lucerys added. Looking at him you saw how he was frowning and his mother was asking him to be quiet. "Princess Rhaena was supposed to claim it but the Prince couldn't respect her mourning before he stole Vhagar."
"I'm not going to argue with a child," the Prince said, taking another sip from his cup.
"A child who will one day be lord of Driftmark and outrank you. A child who plucked out your eye."
That was enough to make him rise to his feet, shouting bastard, and immediately a fistfight broke out between uncle and nephew. Your mother tried to pull you away, while your father commanded the guards to stop them. It was chaos, and you could see blood pouring from Aemond's nose, though blood came from Lucerys' mouth as well. And that was the end of the meal, but not of the night. When you followed your intuition, you discovered what you were looking for. On the mountain where Vhagar rested, the Prince sat, his silver mane being caressed by the air. He heard you coming, but did not turn to look. He didn't even say anything when you approached his side. He still had blood on his face, and you regretted not taking something to wipe it off.
"No one answered my question," you said. You saw a hint of a smile on his thin lips.
"I was ten years old when I claimed Vhagar."
His voice was extraordinarily sweet and yet it still managed to keep your heart beating fast. You felt you had to measure your words, but the urge to keep talking to him overcame you.
"Impressive? You are the one who has been surrounded by dragons since you were a child. Ours are ridiculous in comparison." He finally turned to look at you.
"I was a very cowardly child. It took me fourteen years to ride for the first time on the only dragon that didn't terrify me."
"Strange for an heir of your house."
"I know." You ducked your head. It wasn't the first time you'd been made to feel inferior, like you were a mess. And you couldn't see the regret in the Prince that he had made an ill-advised comment.
"What is the name of your dragon?" He tried to bring the subject back to dragons. And your gaze went immediately to the distant mountain where it rested.
"Zālagon" you replied with a shy smile. A valyrian name.
"'Burn'?" He smiled back. "It's a good name for a dragon. A bit obvious, no offence..."
You laughed at his imitation of your comment at dinner. His leg pressed against yours and you could see that he was comfortable. Vhagar moved in place, with roars that begged his master to fly.
"You should let her fly around Essos. She looks bored here."
"I'd get lost if I went alone," Aemond said, returning to a serious tone.
"Maybe..." you tried to sound convinced, "I could lead you."
You didn't expect him to agree, but you were glad to propose, and before you knew it, Zālagon took flight with Vhagar trailing behind. The moon was full, and the lights of the rich city were guiding you. Both dragons roared in greeting and you could see Aemond enjoying himself as much as his dragon. Myr would be a good stop, a nice place and not too far away. You were ahead of him, your dragon was as big as Vhagar but not as old, for your family had managed to maintain the glory of dragons better than the Targaryens. You decided to amuse yourself, asking Zālagon to fly around Vhagar, and this began a race of ups and downs that put you and Aemond backwards on your mounts. And when Myr appeared at your feet, you flew straight into its harbour, in a race that Aemond was not prepared to lose.
As soon as you got off your dragons, you watched as they played together, not too far apart, enjoying each other's company.
"Vhagar is so big that she can't socialise with the other dragons. She can't even fit in the Dragonpit," the Prince confessed to you.
"Westeros is no place for Valyrian blood. Or so my father always says."
"Is that why you have never gone there?"
"And because it is here that we have built wealth similar to what we had."
You began to stroll along the shore, cloaks shrouding your appearance, but you could make out much of the Prince's face.
"I have read much about your house, my lord. It must be an honour to be heir to it." He sounded sincere, and you found it hard to disagree, but you had no desire to lie to him either.
"My father is obsessed with making it even greater." You heard a soft laugh from Aemond.
"And that is exactly why our visit has been arranged, because my father fears him."
"True. Though you and Prince Lucerys haven't left much time to talk, have you?" You tried to sound as light as he had sounded but he quickly turned serious again.
"I regret my behaviour," he confessed.
"No, Your Majesty, no apology is necessary. In fact...I'm sorry I brought up the subject of Vhagar. I didn't know it would provoke a confrontation."
"No, you didn't. No one expects the little bastard to be an imbecile..." he sounded rabid, his fists clenched.
"You're a Targaryen through and through by the looks of it."
That made him stop in his tracks. Indeed, it made you incredibly nervous and you feared for your words.
"Have I offended you?" you asked.
You watched as he shook his head, looking you up and down. He was so handsome, with that sharp face, his crystal blue eye. You walked on, watching as your dragons continued to amuse themselves. There he told you the true origin of the fight, the dispute over the throne and his father's indifference to him when he lost his eye.
"I have always aspired to something more, something of my own ability. But I have always been pushed into someone's shadow. They never wanted to listen to me and all my problems have been reduced to nonsense. And in the shadow one feels terribly lonely".
He shouldn't have told you all that, but something in you had pushed him to confide in you the things that grieved him. And before you went further away, taking care that no one could see you, you sat down under a tree that covered you both. There you were able to remove your hoods and saw that Aemond still had an open nose wound. You tore a strip of cloth from your cloak before grabbing a bottle of alcohol that you always carried for the many wounds you got on your travels.
"If you let me, I can disinfect it for you," you offered. He said nothing, just nodded, a little apprehensive. "It will only sting a little."
He made hardly a movement, just clenched his jaw from time to time, but nothing more. Then you remembered his eye and it all made sense. He was more than used to healing wounds. Your hands caressed his face and you tried to hold back everything that provoked you.
"I'm sure," you told him, "that dragons don't get stolen. And that Vhagar chose you."
"What makes you think that?" He looked sideways at you, his face close to yours as you cleaned his wound.
"She is the best dragon Targaryens have left alive, and she is surrounded by creatures who share her blood but do not match her. I have not had the pleasure of knowing your siblings well, but something tells me that none of them have the courage to claim a dragon of conquest at the age of ten. I think she saw herself reflected in you. Just as you must have seen yourself reflected in her."
"I've always thought the same thing, but I know if I said it out loud everyone would make fun of me."
"I would tell you that it's not like that, but I usually say what I think and it's true that they end up making fun of me." That made him smile.
"I get the feeling you don't enjoy being a firstborn and heir." He fixed his gaze on you again, serious but sweet.
"Everyone knows I won't do well."
"And how is that supposed to be known?"
"Well, because I don't want to do it myself. I'm not a leader. I've spent days studying lessons that any other kid would understand on the first try. I get distracted by anything and the only thing that makes me happy is to be flying anywhere so long as I don't set foot in the castle. With Zālagon I don't feel so...lost."
Perhaps it was too much information, too, but since Aemond had trusted you, perhaps you should show him that you trusted him. As you pulled the cloth away from his face, finishing your work, you felt Aemond's hand caress your fingers before pulling them away from him He surprised you and you saw his pupil dilate. Your eyes travelled alone all over his face, stopping especially on his thin lips.
"I've wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you appear through the doors."
His confession ruffled every hair on your body, and you were unaware of how long it took for your words to come out. But you managed to say them.
"Then do so, like the conqueror you are, Prince Aemond."
Your whispering voice tantalised his lips and he could take no more. He lunged forward, capturing your mouth slowly but insistently, and you could see that he had really longed for it. And maybe you hadn't understood it until that moment but your body was asking you to continue with the same fervour, placing your hands on his neck as he stroked your hair. The kiss continued as soon as you parted and you felt his warmth again, and if he didn't come closer you came closer. His lips always received you, so soft, so precise.
When dawn broke, it was hard to leave the coast behind, but the flight was even more fun than the way there. What would you do now? Your desire to leave Essos grew, but you didn't know that Aemond's desire to leave Westeros was also growing. He kissed you before returning to the castle, and along the way you could feel his fingers brushing yours constantly. If you were lucky, your parents' dealings would keep you in touch, whatever they were. But you decided not to worry about that, deciding to enjoy the visit. You spent some time practising with your swords, where Aemond proved to be a superb swordsman. You showed him the castle's library, where hundreds of writings from the ancient city of Valyria were kept. And of course, he visited your room when night came again, and that was his favourite place.
"I wish I could go with you," you said to him late into the night, lying in your bed and him beside you.
"I wish I could stay here forever..." he whispered back to you.
You wanted to contradict him, but you couldn't even start a sentence when he shut you up with one of the hundreds of kisses you'd shared over the course of a few hours.
At the farewell dinner three days later, you decided to sit next to him, even if it meant moving away from your father.
"It is a pity, King Viserys, that we have not dealt with an arrangement to your liking," your father remarked.
That took you by surprise, and it seemed to Aemond as well. You prayed that no one had noticed how outcast the two of you had been all that time. But Rhaenyra's crooked smile at you let you know that it had been notice.
"A pity Helaena is already married and my nieces engaged. Perhaps the next generation can bond." The King seemed positive.
You looked at Aemond, trying to enjoy what little of his face you had left to see. He looked tremendously disappointed. If anyone had enjoyed Essos, it was him. Under the table, you put your hand on his leg, drawing his attention. He turned to give you a sad look. You wouldn't let it end. If he didn't stay, you would leave.
"Father," you put in a firm voice, releasing Aemond. "Perhaps we could unite our houses in another way, without marriage."
"And how on earth would that be done?"
You didn't know. So you resorted to a list of pros that had been rattling around in your head all day.
"Prince Aemond has no official duties at King's Landing. He is far from the Throne and knows the politics of Essos and Pentos well. Perhaps far better than I... it would be a great help to have him around." Your father looked at you disapprovingly, but still said nothing. You were about to give up. "Besides, his dragon has befriended Zālagon..."
"His dragon..." he replied wryly, "of course."
He was going to say no, but King Viserys smiled at the idea.
"Aemond," he said, looking at him, "do you wish to stay here?"
They all waited for his answer, and for an exaggeratedly long second you feared you would make a fool of yourself and see him disappear.
"Yes, father. I would be honored."
Both fathers looked at each other, and when your father stood up, he raised his glass.
"To peace between Valyrians!" He proclaimed.
Everyone joined in the toast, but you found it hard to drink just from the joy that filled your whole body. You watched as Aemond smiled sheepishly before looking up at you. He nodded at you, grateful. For once, his father had done him a favour. That night he slept with you again, and the next night you slept in his room, and the night after that you slept in the mountains of Pentos. And so you travelled the world for decades, always together, flying. At your side, Aemond's intelligence had a place at the table, men followed his orders and it was at your side that he stayed through crises, battles and feasts. Your most loyal advisor and you were his most loyal companion in life.
Never again did any of you feel alone or lost.
