Tried to write a little sketch. If you like it, I'll keep writing.
Pairing: Aemond × OC
Rating: 18+/ 21+
Warnings: Emotional manipulation, political tension, implied/repressed trauma, slow burn, power dynamics, potential for explicit content in future chapters
Tags: Angst, Slow Burn, Original Character(s), Canon-Divergence, Aemond Targaryen, Found Family, Enemies to Lovers?, Cyvasse, Library Encounters, Emotional Repression, Post-War Setting
One move a day. One silent opponent. In the heart of the royal library, a prince and a stranger play a game neither of them meant to start… nor knew how to stop.
Sorry English is not my first language
House Antarion was one of the most influential families in Essos. Their wealth was built on trade — caravans and ships bearing their sigil wove an invisible web of profitable contracts and secret dealings across the Free Cities. For decades, the Antarions had maintained strong ties with King’s Landing, pledging loyalty not to a person, but to the one who sat the Iron Throne.
During the Dance of the Dragons, both the Blacks and the Greens sought their support more than once. Each time, the answer was the same:
"We care not for your war, nor for who claims the throne. Our agreement is with the monarch who sits upon it. The victor matters not to us."
Naturally, neither side found satisfaction in this neutrality. Yet one day, Larys Strong dared to try once more. He came to Lord Antarion with an unusual request: to shelter young Jaehaera, daughter of Aegon II, until the war came to an end.
— "And what shall we gain in return?" asked the Lord.
— "Regardless of the outcome, Jaehaera will be either an honored guest… or a valuable hostage," Larys replied after a pause. "And should Aegon triumph, House Targaryen will not forget your service."
After a moment’s contemplation, the lord agreed.
He had no children of his own, but he was guardian to his late brother’s children — nieces and nephews whom he raised as his own. Among them, his young niece formed a fast and sincere bond with Jaehaera. The two girls became inseparable, sharing joys and secrets like sisters.
When the war ended in the Greens’ favor, Jaehaera was returned with honor to her father and uncle. A year passed before House Antarion received a letter from the king himself — a formal expression of gratitude and an invitation to court.
Prince Aemond Targaryen paid little attention to the newly arrived guests — at first. Only one among them caught his interest: Draven, the lord’s eldest nephew. A fellow philosopher and strategist, Draven proved a rare and stimulating companion, and their wine-shared conversations grew frequent.
Sometimes, in the blurred background of these discussions, Aemond would glimpse the figure of Jaehaera and her friend — the quiet girl from Essos. Her name eluded him. He cared little for her laughter or presence; they were background noise.
His true refuge was the royal library, where he would retreat to a secluded corner few knew of. There he read in silence, reflected, and played cyvasse — often against himself.
But one evening, he noticed a piece on the board had moved.
Intrigued by this quiet breach of his solitude, Aemond responded with a countermove. So began a silent game — one move per day. It was as though he were playing with a ghost.
Until one evening, he caught his opponent.
He entered the library as usual — and froze.
There, seated at his table, was the girl from Essos. She leaned over the board, resting her chin on her hand, her gaze lost in thought as she studied the layout — clearly puzzled by her last move.
Aemond approached without a sound. She looked up — startled, wide-eyed. Only now did she realize who she had been playing against.
— "This is my place," Aemond said, his voice cold.
The girl immediately rose, offering a graceful curtsy, eyes lowered.
— "Forgive me… I didn’t know," she replied quietly, her voice soft.
— "Be more careful next time. You are not at home here," he said with a bitter edge.
She bowed her head, circled the table, and slipped away, vanishing into the dark corridors of the library — like a shadow fleeing the flame.
If you liked the sample piece, please let me know to continue trying writing or not. Thank you
A look from the shoot for @heromag— bold, theatrical, and a little insane. Red and black, cards, dice, masks, and the feeling like you’ve stumbled into a strange night game somewhere between a circus, a casino, and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
There’s something chaotic and attractively bizarre about this moodboard.
🎹 The moodboard track — The Weeknd — House of Balloons: dark, hypnotic, and slightly dangerous, like a night that could end in completely unpredictable ways.
🎧 The taste of this look — sweet and salty popcorn. Like the atmosphere of a movie theater, a night party, and a touch of madness.
♦️Perfume — Maison Margiela Replica Jazz Club. Rum, tobacco, vanilla, and warm wood — the scent of a night party, smoke, and a little madness.
An outfit from the British GQ Men of the Year 2024 red carpet — dark elegance with a subtle vampiric atmosphere.
This moodboard turned out more dark and dramatic.
🎧Moodboard track — Ringleader — Public Memory: slightly unsettling, hypnotic, and very atmospheric.
🍷The taste of this look — dark cherry, bitter chocolate, and red wine. Rich, bittersweet, and a little dangerous.
🩸Perfume — Amouage Interlude Man. Incense, smoke, spices, and dark amber. A deep, mysterious scent that perfectly fits this gothic, almost vampiric aesthetic.
The first moodboard in honor of Ewan Mitchell’s birthday. 💐🎊
🤍An outfit from the Wuthering Heights premiere — dark elegance, a touch of gothic romance, and the feeling of a quiet night. A black suit, cold light, silver details, and a gaze that seems to hold an entire story.
✨The vibe of this moodboard feels like an evening with Massive Attack — Angel: deep, slightly mysterious, and slowly pulling you into its atmosphere.
🍫The taste of this look would be a juniper-chocolate cake: tart, rich, and slightly bitter — like the perfect dark aesthetic.
🩸Perfume: Tom Ford – Black Orchid.
Dark chocolate, flowers, patchouli, and a light smokiness. A deep, slightly mysterious, and very “night” fragrance.
Old books, chess, vinyl records, and the cold metal of jewelry — all of it comes together into an image of calm, confident, and slightly enigmatic luxury.
"My father was but nine-and-thirty. He might have been a great king — the greatest since Aegon the Dragon. Why, then, did the gods take him and not you?“
Lord Baratheon was so enraged by the shame and dishonor brought upon his house that he rose in rebellion against the king, declaring that he renounced his oath to the Iron Throne and proclaimed himself the Storm King.
Along mossy paths, lit by the soft glow of Telperion’s descendants, a lone warrior walks. It is Daemon, the Silver Dragon. His white hair seems to have absorbed the moonlight itself; in his hands he carries a long elven blade, and in his eyes burns a restless hunger for glory. He did not come here seeking peace — he seeks allies, songs of his deeds, and perhaps new enemies.
From the mist, another figure emerges. Tall, clad in silver armor, with a bandage hiding an empty eye socket. His steps are heavy and precise, like the beating of a war drum. This is Aemond. He carries the cold of Anfauglith within him, and even Lórien itself seems darker in his presence.
Please note that the aesthetics include small elements of Legolas and Thranduil.
I’ve decided to officially congratulate… myself — for another year in which I keep creating, trying, failing, growing, and doing what I love.
This channel is a reflection of my small and big steps. And on a day like this, it’s especially nice to share what I make with my hands, my mind, and my heart.
If my aesthetic resonates with you, I’d be very happy for your support today:
