Aerion Targaryen x wife!reader
SUMMARY: A small dribble about your life with Aerion from when you were younger to post trial of seven.
WARNING: Honestly not much, typical kind of a dick Aerion, average GOT gore descriptions, hurt/comfort, mild sexual mentions, ?
A/N: I think Aerionâs wife would have that boy trained like a dog honestly and would be just as loud as him
Aerion is dangerous on a good day but he is even worse when his pride is hurt or when he thinks he had been wronged.
You had seen him lash out many times. As his wife you were always somehow given a front row seat to his tantrums. You had learned over the years to treat him like the child he was. When children throw tantrums you do not give in their whining. You wait them out and let them realize they are wrong.
Dealing with Aerion was simply no different. You loved him, sure. But that didnât require you to bend to his every whim. You knew he chose you because your fire was as hot as his own. Only you wielded it differently. While his fire would spike in his rage, yours was a consistent flame.
You can recall an instance in which he had been expelled from a small council meeting for his outbursts when Baelor had disagreed with his tactics. Aerion stomped into your shared chamber. Angrily muttering about how he was more dragon than anyone there and to deny him was idiotic. He was no stranger to yelling and violence.
He roared at you to leave, throwing items to the floor. You only stood with your arms crossed as you watched him. Giving him no reaction only pissed him off more. In a moment of misjudgment, he launched a wooden bowl in your direction. Likely expecting you to move but you let it crash into your hip. Was it painful? Of course. But you wouldnât give Aerion an inch until he could figure himself out.
The sound of the bowl hitting you echoed in the room. Aerion stopped as he watched it crash to the ground. He sunk to his knees, letting his head hang with shame. You let him sulk for a moment before youâd move to seat yourself in the edge of the bed just out of his reach.
Aerion would drag himself to kneel before you, burying his face in your lap, running his hand along which spot he injured you with a feather light touch, whispering as he begged your forgiveness. âForgive me, my jewel.â Dragons always protect their jewels. Aerion had grown to learn what regret was since marrying you.
Youâd only let him suffer a few moments before youâd run your fingers through his hair. An act of your forgiveness, you had practically conditioned him like a dog. Events like this always started out with his hot temper, then would fall into solemn silence, only to turn into a heat of something else.
Aerion would start to run his hands up and down your legs. Going higher and higher with every stroke until he reached your heated center. He would show you just how sorry he was with his mouth.
Most if not all of his tantrums ended this way. His tantrum that led to the trial of seven however ended much differently.
You didnât agree with his decree to change it to a trial of seven. The two of you argued about it, loudly enough for all of Ashford to hear you.
âYou are being a fool, Aerion!â You slammed down your cup as he languidly stirred the wine in his. The white haired Targaryen would refused to make eye contact with you. âThe puppeteerâs actions was one of treason and then for a hedge knight to lay hands upon a prince should be deserving of death.â His voice was annoyingly monotonous.
âYour over confidence, your PRIDE, will get you killed.â You shoved back your chair but Aerion caught your wrist as he stood to his full height. âI am a DRAGON! I am practically immortal, I am a GOD amongst men. My own lady wife would doubt me? Is it treason then?â His face was only inches from yours as he yelled. His grip tightening to something just below crushing.
You bared your teeth at him. âI will not sit by and watch you act less behaved than a feral child! You are a fool, Aerion. It will be your undoing.â You ripped your arm from his grip. âI wonât share my bed with a soon to be corpse.â He never moved to stop you as the doors to the dinning area slammed shut.
The trial would come at dawn. You had gone to bed and woken up alone. Well mostly alone. On Aerionâs side of the bed sat a black box with a red ribbon tied around it. He commonly gave gifts after arguments or just because, after all he was a dragon and you were his jewel and dragons loved shiny things.
Aerion had quietly crept into the room late into the night. He considered waking you up with his mouth, tasting you before the trial. It might have given him some sort of confidence, the sounds youâd make would boost his ego. But Aerion knew he pushed too far earlier, he had a hard time being the bigger person in an argument and stopping before it got pushed too far.
So instead he had spent the evening searching for a gift for you, the next best thing to sex with him as far as he thought. It was an apology, as he often did. He had carefully kissed the top of your head, taking in your scent before leaving you be.
Slowly you pulled apart the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a note in his masculine scrawl that you had come to adore. Not that Aerion knew but you had a small box in your wardrobe full of all his letters. This one wrote, âIt could never be treason. Your dragon will always protect you. Your love, your dragon, Aerion.â
You hated him sometimes but the note did make you smile softly. In the box laid a small silver chain with a dragon pendant on it. The dragon itself was seeming to fly upwards, its wings out stretched. Of course it had three heads, a symbol of just what dragon protected you.
Horns sounded in the distance and you knew the trial started. Aerion had looked for you as Ser Duncan did his speech, urging others to join him. Truthfully, he couldnât decide if having you here would make him falter or fight harder.
You dressed as quickly as you could running through the castle to the royal stands outside. It was already brutal by the time you got there.
Aerion out a scream just as he came into your view, the knight digging his sword into Aerionâs thigh. You covered your mouth in a gasp. Another flew by on his horse, knocking the offending knight to the ground allowing Aerion to get away.
The fight was barely visible through the fog, mud and gore. At all areas men fought. Maekar and Baelor battled each other just off to the side. Those you knew as the Fossoways fought each other. You hated how willing those of the same blood were so eager to hurt each other just because.
Aerionâs voice rang out, screaming for the knight to yield but Eggâs voice rang louder urging the knight to rise. To fight. You knew Egg hated his brother. You couldnât blame him after all the torment Aerion put him through but you still hated to see it.
To everyone shock the knight rose. Aerion flipped down his helmet, swaying with what little strength he had left. Your hands gripped the railing until your knuckles turned white. While you never really prayed, this moment felt heavy with death as you watched the other half of your heart risk his life because he was raised with idiotic notions of godhood.
You begged to the old gods and knew to save your childish husband. To return him to your arms. To allow him to live if only so that you donât have to live without half of your heart. Aerion and the knight swung for each other but Aerion simply couldnât keep himself steady. The other knight grabbed him, flipping him to the ground.
Aerion tried to use his shield to knock him away but it was only pulled from his grasp. A tear fell as the knight raised the shield above his head and brought it crashing down into Aerionâs helmet.
It was a sickening sound, the crunching of Aerionâs helmet as he tried to claw himself free but the knight had clearly hit a haze of rage. You had seen Aerion in that haze before and there really was no stopping it until someone was dead.
The knight threw the shield to the side, flipping Aerionâs helmet open as they went for blows. You wouldnât, you couldnât watch. You turned around waiting to hear the horn blow, to announce the fight was over and your husband was most likely dead.
Relief washed over you as Aerionâs voice echoed in the space, weakly withdrawing his accusation. The horn bellowed and the fighting stopped. Knights, including Aerion were dragged off the field and into the infirmary.
Egg stopped short in front of you, as he watched tears fall from your eyes. He always wondered how you could love a monster such as Aerion but he took off before you could speak a word to him.
Men screamed as you rushed through the halls, trying to find Aerion. You caught a glimpse of black armour in one of the empty chambers. Maesters and maids yelling commands to one another as they worked quickly to strip an unconscious Aerion. His face was swollen and bleeding, his lips vibrant with blood.
His thigh spurted blood when the armour came free. You let out a gasp, one of the maids finally noticed your presence before shooing you of the room.
âHis grace will be just fine, my lady. Why donât we get you some tea?â The woman dragged you away as the large wooden door closed behind you. It felt like they had just sealed his tomb. Closing him off out of your reach. The maid refused to leave your side for the following hours.
Bringing you tea after tea, treats and desserts. They even brought you dinner but you refused to eat. No one would say what happened to Aerion. You had already gotten word that two of the knights on the opposing side had been killed on the field. Baelor had succumbed to an injury put upon him by Maekar.
The news only crushed your heart further. Baelor had been a father to you when you had married Aerion. He was the only one who knew Aerion was more than a spoiled brat and over time Aerion had started to act his station. You felt it all would fall apart the second Aerion learned he was gone. You would fall apart the second Aerion was gone.
When you and Aerion had met, he had been enamoured with you. Mostly because you detested his existence and wouldnât give him the time of day. He followed you endlessly around the Red Keep when you visited. Trying to woo you with tales of dragons, even promising to show you anything dragon related that you wanted to see but you turned him down.
However over time he won you over. When following you around and talking your ear off didnât work he had asked your hand maidens what you liked. Books, fresh air and sweet desserts were your favourite. They had relinquished to him the secret spot in one of the gardens in which you went to hide from him and the pomp of royalty.
On one particular day, Aerion had annoyed you to no end. He had been outside your door when you awoke, he followed you to breakfast, he talked his way through the minstrelâs songs. You were about to burst with his annoyance. Thankfully you had trained your hand maidens to watch for a signal if you needed escape from annoying Lords who just wanted to bed you or uncomfortable social settings. Carefully without seeming suspicious you let one of your rings fall from your finger.
Aerion quickly scooped up the ring but your hand maiden was just as fast, claiming that your father was requesting your audience. You apologized quickly to Aerion before taking off through the Keep. There were so many secrets doors and passages that once you were out of sight you could swiftly make your way to your secret spot without interruption.
On your way down you realized you never got your ring back from Aerion and sighed realizing youâd have to speak to him eventually.
Coming upon your secret hide away under a very large rose bush, you noticed a blanket sticking out. Warily you peaked inside. The blanket was covered in an array of different books from history to romance to dragons. A metal platter with a lid sat in between the stacks.
Upon lifting the lid, many small desserts had been arranged of different colours and shapes. A black envelope sat in between two small cakes. You opened it carefully, a masculine scrawl across the parchment. âDragons do not only hoard jewels. Aerion.â
You had spent the rest of the day hiding, nibbling on the treats making note of which ones to ask more of as you dove into the books. One had hilariously been a romance between a woman and an actual dragon who eventually turned into a man.
Days had gone by and Aerion was no where to be found even though you searched for him. Eventually he came to your door one afternoon, returning your ring, you had asked if he wanted to accompany you on a walk through the garden and the rest is history.
The maids had eventually corralled you to your chambers. You slept fitfully before giving up and making your way to the infirmary. The maester retrieved the clean cloths, bandages, salve and herbs that you requested. Two maids brought you a bucket each. One empty and one with hot water.
They helped you carry the items to the outside of the room in which Aerion was in. You dismissed them at the door, leaving the buckets as you carefully cracked open the door and brought in the tray of items. Soft light glowed in the space illuminating the many cuts and bruises across Aerionâs skin. A blanket covered him from the waist down, his chest was bare and almost glowed from the pallor of his skin.
His eyes were closed as you approached. You moved around the room as quietly as you could. Setting the tray of items down on the table just next to him and dragging over a stool to sit next to him woke him. You could see him trying to focus his eyes as he swallowed over and over in order to speak.
Without a word you left to room to carry in the buckets. The steam of the water warming your cold hands. Aerion had finally found his voice just as you sat down. âGo away.â His voice was weak and raspy. The words not all coming out with the same force.
It seemed to pain him greatly to turn his head to face away from you but you rarely listened to him when he demanded such and now was not a time in which you would. No words were spoken as you dipped a cloth into the hot water, the sound of water falling was the loudest sound in the whole castle.
At a closer glance, his skin was littered with dry blood. His own blood or anotherâs, it would never be known. You ran the cloth down Aerionâs arm. Gooseflesh crawled along his body at the touch. In between every run of the cloth you squeezed out the water into the empty bucket and dipped it again into the hot water. Softly you picked at the blood that was caked into his nails.
Aerion pulled back when you pushed a little too hard. Mumbling your apologies, waiting until he settled to continue. His shoulder and down was looking relatively clean now. A distinct line at his chest showed where blood and dirt still caked his body and where the warm water had touched.
Continuing the motions you reached to wipe at his cheek but his hand snapped up to weakly grip your wrist. His breath was laboured, even this small movement taxed him. âBe gone.â Softly you pulled his hand towards you, kissing the now clean flesh on the back of his hand. Aerion let out a sad sigh. He finally opened his eyes as best he could to look at you.
His hand moved to touch the pendant that hung at your neck. His strength was waning, his arm shook with the effort and you lowered it back to the bed. âThank you for the gift, your grace.â The moniker elicited a soft smirk from the hurt boy in front of you.
Often you call him your grace, or my dragon to tease him. Everyone knew his ego was huge and hearing you say that only made it grow larger. Your incessant teasing often ended with both of you naked and panting as it never annoyed him it only turned him on.
He swallowed sharply, his hand finding yours once again as they rested in your lap. âIâm sorry.â You didnât hear the words often. Apologies usually went unspoken as physical acts became a more meaningful one. âItâs okay, my love. You should get some more sleep.â
Aerion nodded weakly. You moved quicker now, cleaning him up as best you could. Setting aside the items you brought on the outside of the door.
It was still dark out. Sleep was creeping towards you but you didnât want to leave Aerion by himself. If he woke and needed something you wanted to be there for him. You stared out the corner window, the arena visible from here was filled with blood that seemed to almost glisten in the moonlight.
The door to the room slowly creaked open. You stood silently in fear of who would be coming in at this hour. Egg quietly stepped into view. His small fist shook around the knife in his hand.
Your heel clicked against the floor as you took a careful step towards him. Egg quickly turned to look at you, his eyes were watery and his lip shook. He made no movement as you continued towards him. Kneeling before him, you did the only thing you could think of.
You hugged him. He could put that knife into your back of course but you felt sorry for him. To see his brother and his friend almost kill each other. To watch his father and his uncle end in bloodshed. It was everything a little boy should never have to see.
The knife clattered to the floor as Egg hugged you back. His sobs were quiet but you felt the way his body shook. You slowly rocked him back and forth in an effort to soothe him. The two of you had always gotten along. While Egg didnât agree with your choice in husband, he couldnât ignore that Aerion was less horrible with you around.
Slowly he pulled away wiping at his eyes. âIâm sorry, Egg. I wish I could have stopped him.â You reached up wiping a stray tear that lingered on his cheek. His words came out staggered in between sobs. âW-why would the gods let him live and not my uncle?â You carefully took his hands in yours.
âI donât know. But I do know that living will not be a gift for Aerion. It is a punishment to live with what heâs caused.â Egg looked past you to Aerion who stirred. This seemed to soothe the boy. He nodded softly, looking back at the open door. âI wonât tell anyone.â You whispered to him.
The Targaryen madness was something you heard about so often. Many said Aerion was already inflicted with it as many were before him. Truthfully, you didnât believe it to be an affliction. It was likely the pressures of being raised in a House with such influence and expectations put on a child on the very day of their birth.
âYou should continue to travel with Ser Duncan, Egg. I think it would be good for you to be free from the madness of this house.â You stood taking Eggâs hand and walking to your own chambers. He stood quietly while you dug around in your wardrobe and presented him with a small pouch.
Coins clinked together as he took it. âBe safe, Aegon.â A sad smile came upon his face before he took off through the castle. You walked back to the chamber in which Aerion still laid. His eyes barely opened, his hand that rested on the bed beckoned you over.
You sat carefully on the bed next to him. His rough hands found yours. âI donât deserve you.â Aerion forced his eyes open to look at you and you could only smile at him. âNo, you donât.â Aerion let out a soft chuckle, wincing at the pain it caused.
Maybe this would turn him around for the better.
Once daylight came, Maekar had come in to tell Aerion he was sending him to one of the free cities in hopes of changing his behaviour. Lys in particular was where the two of you were being sent as wherever Aerion went you would follow.
Aerion seemed to be in better spirits when the sun shone through the windows. Cold cloths throughout the night and forcing water down this throat put him in a bit better shape.
He groaned miserably, when you pulled him into a seated position on the edge of the bed. Aerion held tightly onto your waist as you stood between his legs to keep him from tipping forward onto the floor. It was kind of adorable that he was so helpless and required your assistance.
You had washed his back down now that he was sitting up and tried to clean his hair a little better. It was now closer to his usual white colour, rather than the pink it had been. You could tell he was in better spirits in the way his hands started to roam and he kissed at your exposed skin whenever you bent down.
âYou have to be dressed, we donât have time for your shenanigans.â You giggled as he tried to get under your skirts but you stepped just out of reach. He licked at his lip in a way that was oddly seductive.
âIf you donât come here I am going to fall to the floor and drag you down with me.â His playfulness was a breath of fresh air. Maybe having a near death experience does that to someone.
Aerion rested his elbows on his knees to keep himself from toppling, doing a childish grabby motion with his hands. You could only shake your head at him and kneel between his legs. You were careful of how tight you hugged him but you couldnât help but melt into him as he pulled you closer.
He kissed the top of your head with tenderness. âMy sweet jewel.â Aerion whispered into your hair. You looked up to him and placed a soft kiss on his still swollen lips. He tensed for a moment before trying to deepen the kiss, even though he winced at the pressure.
âI think itâs time to get dressed.â You stood, moving out of his grip, he only pouted at you. Grabbing a soft red shift you brought it towards him. It was a challenge to dress him. Aerion was dead weight with every movement. Some you attributed to the pain while the rest of it you knew he just liked being difficult.
You held up a soft black tunic next with a ribbed design similar to that of dragon scales. âWhereâs my chain mail?â He tried his best to stand, but he couldnât quite hoist himself up. You tsked at him, pushing him down by the top of his head. âI think the last thing you need right now is more weight than you can bare.â
Aerion side eyed you but he knew you were right. You guided his arms carefully through the sleeves and bent over to connect the clasps. He was blissfully silent eyeing your chest until you brought trousers for him to dawn. âYou know usually youâre trying to take my clothes off not put them on.â He licked his lip once more, eyeing you.
âPut them on yourself then.â You tossed the clothing onto his lap and started to make your way out of the room. Aerion only laughed. âNo my love please I cannot put them on myself. I take it back!â
You hid outside the door for just a moment to try to school your face into seriousness to tease him. Strutting back in and standing just out of his reach, cupping your ear with your hand. âIâm sorry, what was that I didnât hear you?â Pure sarcasm.
Aerion rolled his eyes but he couldnât hide the smirk on his face. âPlease help me. I need you.â You smirked. âThatâs what I thought.â
