Fluff • Aemond and his way of showing you his love through gifts. And one time where you showed your love back to him.
★ All The Stars Aligned
Fluff • You simply are a mastermind, plotting your scheme into getting what you want.
♰ Death With Dignity
Angst • The Aftermath of your husband's death leads you to your own ending.
✧ Diamond of the Season
➢ Let The Light In • Part I - Part II - Part III (WIP)
Fluff • As the diamond of the season, no one could ever deny you, not even your one-eye prince.
Series • After the man you have longed for all your life broke your betrothal with a scandalous news, you return to the royal court as your father promises to find you a better man who will truly deserve you.
♫ Songbird of the Courtroom
Fluff & Angst • You are a new court singer and couldn't help but wonder if the prince is not please with your voice.
⚖ Two Halves of a Whole
Hurt & Comfort • After his wife's suspicious behavior, Aemond finds out of her doings & decided to see it for himself.
⚔ Mend The Broken Bond
Fluff & Angst • May the Smith mends the bond that he broke far too long and forges him and you back together in a longtime promise.
𖤓 Please, Please, Please
Fluff & Angst • Aemond has begged for many things in his life and for one last time, he gets down on his knees and begs for you.
"CREGAN STARK"
❄︎ A True Honorable Man
Fluff • After realizing his mistakes, Cregan attempted to court you again with the advice of his good ol' friend.
"DUNCAN THE TALL"
• First Knight's Command
Smut • Who would believe that a stop at the lonesome inn will lead the new hedge knight to the fair maiden who is all wanting and craving with a strong will to pursuade him after she laid eyes on his size
• Headcanon I
Ask • How Duncan would've acted when he wanted to have you...
Hello! Thank you for writing First knight's command, i am now driven insane with lust 😌 do you do headcanons as well? I was wondering like how do you think dunk is when asking for sex? Like he's only been seeing this girl for a short while, they've done it a handful of times before, all of them initiated by her 😉 he finds himself feeling frisky and theyre all alone in a field or by the stream or are getting ready for bed under the stars 👀
I hope it sparks some ideas for you, hcs or fic! Thank youuu 💛
Pairing | Duncan the Tall x Fem!Reader
Warnings & Suggestions | NSFW (18+), Explicit Content & Language, A little bit of smut, It actually turns a bit angsty and comfort Idk what happened, Could be read as a standalone or a part of First Knight's Command
⊹ ࣪ ˖ When it comes to this matter, Dunk is suddenly all shy and quiet despite “almost” always having something to say.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ He just didn’t know how to initiate it, he doesn’t even dare to think of it, especially at the beginning of the relationship where he always takes, takes, and takes.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ So, in order to for him come to you with his deepest desire heavy on his back, is to just wait and honestly, it won't even be long.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Because anything you do or simply your existence alone could make him fluster and fell to his knees.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ I imagined Dunk would tried to stray his eyes away and resist the temptation as much as possible, simply because he doesn't have the guts to say what he wants from you.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ He tries to shake his head, runs from his thoughts, just anything, but the fact that you are so close yet so far away makes his body ache and his mind would only circles back to the memories of your times together.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ So he ignores you, not in a mean way, but he would just distance himself. Quiet when you ask him to join you in the shallow water, face's stern when you try to make a playful conversation with him.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ And soon, everything is awkward. Because now you would think he suddenly changed while Dunk is fighting for his life with his internal thoughts. He wants you but he doesn't know how to speak it, he doesn't even know if you would truly want him.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ And when he breaks, it's like all hell loosen. He wouldn't speak it loud but instead, he'd acted it bold.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ On one cold night where only crickets sing combined with the sound lushing water from the stream, you'd suddenly feel his hands wandering to your waist and the heat of his large body grow from behind.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ "What do you want? I thought you had taken the vow of silent sisters."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Still quiet, but the throbbing you'd feel on your behind will explain everything.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ "Speak to me, Dunk."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ "I want you, I could only think of you, I don't know why or how to stop it but gods, I want you, I want you so much." All this while he traces kisses down your neck.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ "Then have me, speak to me instead of ignoring me."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ And oh, he'd have you. Taking off his clothes roughly but always gentle with you, his hunger is clear to see especially when he feeds himself with your cunt, your moan echos through the dark forest, "Gods, I didn't know you could do that, keep going."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ He'd keep his body close to you, pacing his cock deep inside you as much as he could while you truly see the stars beneath the dark sky.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ And for a night, both of you finally feel truly belonged, aligned, alike.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ He'd hold you close afterwards, his chin resting on your shoulder. "I do not have anything to offer you."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ "I do not care, Dunk. Is this why you've been acting strange?"
⊹ ࣪ ˖ He'd sigh before holding you ever tighter, "I want to be something, to give you something, to just make something for the two of us."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ The first time might ended with a lot of comfort and promises, but after this, you can be certain that Dunk would be more confident when it comes to sex.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ He would come to you with a look only you both knew, a single touch that send shivers down your spine, or even in his desperate words, begging to let him have you.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Now, it is entirely up to you whether you want to reward this loyal honest knight with ease or play hard until he is on his knees, begging and craving, all over again.
Summary | Who would believe that a stop at the lonesome inn will lead the new hedge knight to be persuaded and seduced onto a stranger's bed.
Warning & Suggestions | NSFW (18+), Explicit Content & Language, Oral Sex, Sexual Acts, Dirty Talk, Reader kinda playing mind games.
Dunk looks up from the two large plates and the ale mug on his table, his eyes come to meet with a lady who pays him a sultry smile. “Do you have a name, good ser?” He observes the way you lean your elbows on his table, looking up at him to get a better sight of his face, your eyes all wide and starry.
“Oh my, what do they feed hedge knights these days?”
“Dunk.”
“Just Dunk?” He nods, and you seem puzzled by his answer but once you get another proper look at him from head to toe, you seem to abandon whatever thought is holding you back, even when his face is all dusty from the travelling, and his clothes all messy especially the rope he uses as a belt. “Are you here for the Ashford tourney, Ser Dunk?”
“Aye, I mean to be a champion,” He speaks so confidently, but the lady answers his boast with a laughter. “Well… Ser Dunk the Champion, wouldn't you like a favor from a fair maiden?” He has just taken a few sips of the ale so he can't be hallucinating now, can he?
“Are you ignoring me, ser?” You harshly pout. “Oh, how I thought you a better knight, you're so much taller, broader, and…” You giggle after mouthing something to yourself, he couldn't quite catch it.
“Hey! Don't mind her, she's one of the guests,” The voice of the older woman who had cooked Dunk a lamb and a duck makes the lady in front of him frown back immediately, although it seems you take it playfully rather than offensively. He takes this chance to get a good look at you, and gods, you are gorgeous, the fairest thing he's ever laid his eyes on if he could claim such title.
“Don't listen to her.” You turn to gaze his face excitedly, grinning as you take a seat next to him. The inn is quiet despite the good hours for all the hedge knights and their squires have travelled to Ashford meadow. In this lonesome inn, there's only Dunk, you, a drunk man fast asleep on the table, a bald stableboy outside, and the old woman who left after warning him. He is unsure if you're a girl from a village or what, but he tries to follow what the old woman had said, to not mind you.
“So where are you from?”
“King's Landing. But I’d been a squire since my young age and I've been to all the seven kingdoms except for the North.” It is true, Dunk was born an orphan or a bastard, he's unsure of, but he certainly never met his mother nor his father. And during a decade long of travelling from region to region, he never crosses anyone who he could believe is his parent. Perhaps if he got a chance to see the North, there might be some tall hoary man who looks just like him.
“A man of venture then, how brave, and which place did you enjoy the most?” Dunk notices the way you are dressed in a thin shift, as if you had just woken up or about to slumber, showing a slightly revealing part which he immediately turns his head away from. He answers stiffly, “Lannisport.”
“Ooh…the Den of the Lion, I can't remember if I've ever been there but I bet the amount of mountains you climbed must've been the ones that give you these big strong arms.” Dunk is confused, are you seducing him? At Lannisport, he had shared his first kiss but he had never laid with a woman before. Is this fair maiden suggesting him to a kiss? He chooses not to answer, returning to his food before it turns cold while you continue to feast your eyes by tracing it down his body.
“Will you be travelling right after? It's no good to mount a horse after supper, ser. I once saw a man puke a full mile because of it.”
“I'd walk,” You chuckle at his answer before looking around to make sure no one is listening. “How about you take a rest from these sore muscles, aye? Let me pay my respect for all the good deeds you've done.” You whisper, eyes all wanting and voice all craving.
Dunk feels as if you are converting these desires to him through the words you tempt him in. He wanted to say yes, but no, he already paid his silvers for the food and the ale. If it's the coins that make you run to flatter him then he must shutter you away for he has none of it. “No, I ain't got no silver to pay for the night, I must take my horses and find me a shelter.”
He thought you would leave at the mention of coins but instead you just laugh, louder than the ones before, “I'm not here to sell you anything, ser, I am asking if you'd like to share a warm night with me in my room, or by the stream outside if you like it cold.” Gods, what are you saying to him? No one’s ever been this forward with him before, Dunk grips the ale mug tightly. Ser Arlan likes to remind him that his brain is thick and his mind is dull, but perhaps this will be the one time where Ser Arlan is wrong.
“Shush!” You take a hold of his hand before leading him to a corner room, Dunk feels his face all flushed and his ears all red at the thought of what you are leading him to. The excitement of trying to not waking up anyone in the inn, fearing they will chase him away and rob him of this once-in-a-lifetime pleasure for eternity, it got his cock swollen but he has to calm, to compose and let you take him as you please.
He stands almost seven feet tall in your room, it is larger than he had expected. There's a wooden bed twice his size, a closed window, and a table which he immediately takes a seat on before he lowers down to take off his boots and struggles with his rope belt, darn it. Dunk heard the sound of you closing the wooden door as the darkness fills the room.
“Now that we're in my room, you must follow my command,” Dunk nods as you pace around to light the candles, he continues to untighten his rope, relieved that it finally breaks free then he puts it on the table. “You must not make a sound and we must not be caught.” Dunk certainly can control his sound but he's not so sure about not getting caught, still he nods once more.
He notices how you didn't light all the candles, only two beside the bed and one on the table. All the lights form in the midst of the room where he can see your shadow moving on the stone floor. You did not invite him to the bed but instead, walked to his seated form, before starting to caress his rough face with your soft hand. He closes his eyes and leans into the gentleness completely before he aims his hand to hold your waist while his other one discreetly fists the tightness in his pants.
His seated figure and your standing one doesn't require much bending as you begin to lay kisses on his cheeks many times, each slow and all sensual. He wants to taste your lips but he fights to stay patient, letting you trail down to his neck, you gently suck into it, and gods, the sensation makes him pull you down to sit on his lap while your hands travel to squeeze his biceps. It's not until he lets out a moan that you stop to look at him, “Hush now, follow my command or I'll make sure you endure a fitting punishment.” You whisper, “You're a good knight, are you not?” He nods hurriedly. Confused by how every word you utter manages to affect his mind like no one has before.
Rising from his lap, it didn't take much for Dunk to understand that he must follow you to the bed. You stare deep into his eyes as you unfasten his cloak before allowing him to sit on the soft mattress. You place the cloak next to his sword, returning to open your legs wide as you seat comfortably on his clothed lap, “I'd kiss you for as much as I'd like,” he hums in response as you gently lift his tunic up, “And I'd ride you for as long as I please.” You pause at the sight of his naked form. Dunk wanted to explain that his body is rough and scarred from all the training, the fighting, and the working he endures his whole life. But when he gazes into your eyes, he realises he needs not to defend it because the way your gaze gleams of lust already says it all. You must've liked it, he thought.
“I would have wanted us to play the roles of a sweetling maiden and a braving knight, but no, I waited long enough,” You push him to lay on the mattress with all your might but once you come to kiss him, he notices how gentle it is, polite even, completely different from the way you had just pushed him. You stop to look at his face, and seemingly take offense that he is amused. “All beaming, huh?” You said, before lifting your weight from him. Dunk thought he's about to get send away until he feels you tugging his pants down.
“Oh…” You cry out, looking back and forth between his face and his cock. “Oh, my good knight. Tell me, would you like to have the prize for your good deeds?” Dunk feels your finger tracing up his thigh, teasing him while he tries to mutter out his answer, “Yes, please.” Your finger leaves his thigh as your kisses come to replace it, and then, you take his cock into your palm, stroking it so gently. Dunk dares not look down, this feels too good, he chooses to close his eyes and embraces whatever you want to bless him.
“You're all hard and swollen, ser, I must help you, right?” What a provoking little thing, Dunk thought. You moan out these sentences as if you've been rehearsing it a thousand times. All he could do is keep quiet and tighten his fists, it just started yet the pleasure already overwhelmed him. “I’ll help you with my mouth first and if you're good to me, I'll reward you with my cunt, how'd you like that?” Yes, please, just please. He wants to shout it loud but instead, he nods silently and willingly. And you giggle, as if getting back at him for smiling after the kiss.
All his thoughts end when your tongue licks his hard length hungrily. You seem hesitated at first but once you swallow in his taste, he feels as though it possesses you with the way you quickly return to lick him more eagerly, one after one, your face darken in thirst and hunger as you begin to suck him now, you do it at your own pace, shyly at first but once you see that you can indeed take him, you're all bold and gallant.
“Are you still with me, sweet Dunk?” You return to the licks and the kisses, beaming proudly at the sight of him falling apart. “Speak to me now, but quietly, wouldn't want anyone to know now, do we?” His mind burns at the thoughts you keep feeding him with, a hum is all he managed to let out. He feels you climbing atop of him, before lowering your face down and whisper, “Stay strong for me, my braving knight. Do you know how soaked you got me, huh?”
“Please, take me, take me all you'd like.” Dunk realises he is truly dull with words, but still honest at least. This lady brews his thoughts with endless visions, but instead of a sweetling maiden, you are tempting, teasing him and mocking him as you please, maybe he is not the braving knight as you had wanted but a craving knight who is more than good enough to obey at every command.
“Of course, my good knight,” You sink the head of his cock into your cunt, slowly and cautiously, and Dunk holds all his breath back before you fully take him. Gods, gods, gods. You feel so warm, he believes it could forge a thousand swords and still lit the harsh winter away for another thousand years. His thoughts run wild and hands wander to hold your hips, he chooses not to guide you but to do as he promises, letting you ride however long you'd like. And you sway, sway as you had always wanted. The pleasure seeps through every second, larger and longer everytime. “I- I want to ride you, but I also want you to ride me.”
Dunk is more than pleased to hear those words, “Whenever you please, my tempting maiden.” It seems he is trying to charm you back, he's unsure if his words affect you as much as you had affected him until he feels you tighten around his length, making him grip your hips tighter and rougher. Who knows how hard it is to just stay quiet, then, he hears the sound straight from the seven heavens, you let loose and begin to moan loudly. “Oh, what are you doing to me?”
“Hush now, my tempting maiden.” His words make you bite down your tongue. The hours are dark and quiet, these stone walls surely can't contain it well. “Please, I can't, ser, you must ride me now, take me hard and don't be shy.” Your command makes the tall knight turn obediently. Amidst the chaos of changing position, you gather one of the soft pillows with you before settling on your hands and knees, your gaze facing the bottom of the bed where the three candles’ light unite. Dunk notices the way you immediately lie your face down and arch your back eagerly, using the pillow not only to rest but also to moan into as loud as you wanted. “Quick!” You turn to look at him.
Dunk pulls you closer with ease, he notices you haven't taken off your robes or your thin shift, perhaps you were wary of intruders, he thought before gently gathering them up to your waist. He lets your cunt swallow him once more. Even at his second chance, he still can't compose, he has to bend down to distract his moan by kissing your clothed back and your warm neck while continuing to move back and forth, he feels like in this position, he is falling even deeper and faster.
He opens his eyes to look at you holding onto the pillow tightly, you squeeze and moan into the soft feathers but he notices that your eyes are wide open despite the intense pleasure. Dunk follows your gaze to the center of the room, where the candle lights gather and both of your shadows meet, although it is hard to make the shape out of it but it seems you enjoy watching it so much you refuse to blink even once. “Please, ser, spill your seed deep inside me. I give you my warmth, now bring me yours.”
Gods, where did you learn to speak like this? Dunk gives out all his strength as he takes you harder and faster. You turn to face him instead of watching the shadows, knowing both of you are so close to release. “Please, my good knight, fuck me hard, claim me before it's too late,” And so he did, his breath quickening as his pace brutally took its final rhythm, he wanted to follow all your command, to let his heart beat off your order and claim his prize like you offer.
“Gods, what are you doing to me?” He mutters helplessly. Dunk suddenly feels you fighting hard to still your arching body, he keeps chasing the movement, he must not disappointed you now. “Ah! Yes! Yes! Oh my, oh my sweet knight, oh…” He carefully drops all his weight to hold you close as he spills deep inside your cunt, living up to your command even in his very last movement. It was long minutes before he trails his eyes up to see the sultry smile blooming across your face. “Thank you,” You softly said, “For your good deeds.”
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notes: I've posted this long ago on ao3, it's a matter of times I finally posted this on tumblr. Cheers to the first good 2 eps!!
Pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Ormund Hightower x Fem!Reader
Summary | After the man you have longed for all your life broke your betrothal with a scandalous news, you return to the royal court as your father promises to find you a better man who will truly deserve you ๋࣭ ⭑
Part 1
Notes & Suggestions | Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Infidelity, Reader is going through it, 2K Words.
Emptiness is such a scary thing especially when it comes in the shape of emotion, everything has ceased to exist within your mind yet you can feel something bottling inside, something bad that you cannot fathom at all.
These are what you have been through in the past few days and it has been threatening you to insanity. Your father seems to experience it as well because Lord Beesbury has been taking forever to step down from his seat in the small council. He paces around while you swirl the golden cup in your hand, the gods seem to bless this day with the utmost merciful boredom.
“Father, perhaps Lord Beesbury is planning to leave after the celebration for Prince Daeron is done.” You reason, not because you are confident but just so he could stop circling around like a Vale sheep. The words soothe your father’s nerves down immediately as he returns to his seat at the dining table instead of taking another lap of stroll, closing his eyes as he tries to maintain a sense of peace, you softly grin at his act.
In the past fortnight, the palace has dedicated its entire interest to the welcoming feast and the coming-of-age celebration of Prince Daeron Targaryen. You heard many things about him, a gentle boy among his brothers who seems to rage around with only fire and cups. The thought of his siblings reminds you of the incident of collapsing into Prince Aemond, the embarrassment hitting you hard as you immediately bite down your tongue to distract those memories away. It is a genuinely small mistake, you think to yourself.
“Any news on Lord Hightower?” another question to distract your mind, “Yes, yes, yes, Lord Hand told me a few things, he seems to speak in riddles however. I hate when he does that. The Lord of Oldtown will travel with his nephew.” Your father paused as he tried to recall the details, “His children will not be present due to their young age. But he has learned about the offer, of course, and will be courting you as a suitor should.” You feel pleased with the news, not much excitement but it's enough to feed your mind. “Oh, how can I forget! And to maintain the image between a respectable lord and lady, a chaperone will be present within the period of courting.” You tilt your head at the mention of a chaperone, when you and your late betrothed were courting formally, his brother was your chaperone.
“Prince Aemond is more than delighted to take over the act.”
“What?!” Your sudden exclamation startles your father more than necessary. “He is the son of Queen Alicent Hightower, her grace is a cousin of Lord Hightower, that makes him the….” Your father explains patiently as he tries to find the right word, “Lord Ormund’s nephew? Or grand cousin? It does not matter, they're family!” A slight to no firmness in his tone but he does not seem to care for the matter of the chaperone. “Is it possible to request for anyone else?” You pour all your will into the question. The thought of Prince Aemond following you and Lord Ormund around as you two converse in light to heavy topics unnerves you more than anything, you do not know why the prince consumes your mind more than your upcoming suitor. The way he managed to leave you in utter embarrassment over a small mistake that he does not seem to care at all, still, you can feel his intense gaze piercing through your skin. “Did he do something to you, dear?” Your father's genuine concern makes you shake your head in response, “I- I was merely nervous to be in the presence of a prince.”
Late into the hour of the ghosts, you still lay uncomfortably on your bed, finding it hard to rest. You used to be an early sleeper but lately, you find your mind battling to stay awake until these hours, refusing to sleep unless you think over every little thing: from a bitter name of your former betrothed, a lingering name of your possible next one, and Prince Aemond. His name repeats in your mind with a strange rhythm, he keeps taking over your thoughts both days and nights. You feel like a victim, fallen to a witch’s spell. As you allowed your tiring mind to wander through the thoughts of him, for you know once your mind got what it pleads, you will finally be able to rest.
He has such long hair, pin straight down his shoulder, a rare coloring at that, only those of Old Valyria will possess such beauty. And his fierce blue eye, one of the ladies claimed his lost one was replaced with a rare stone, it is hard to believe such claim since he always wears his eyepatch, the permanent scar above and beneath his eye was undeniably visible though. Your mother used to tell you a story about brave soldiers with scars more on their body than their age combined. They should be looked up to with respect, she will firmly taught you. The prince’s scar was not one made of war but you do know the common ground not to perceive him as lesser because of it. He seems like a soldier though, compared to your former betrothed who exudes the presence of a traditional knight in shining armor, Prince Aemond has the commanding presence, a fierce face and a sharp tongue. You wonder what he is like on the inside, men like him are either too direct or too complex, nothing in between. Your heavy eyelids fell to rest at the thought of him.
Hundred of miles away, Lord Ormund is taking his very last nightly stop as he travelled from the Reach to King's Landing, in a matter of hours, he shall arrive safely. Ormund has yet to find himself asleep, undeniably missing his home despite only being away for a fortnight as of now. Alone in his tent with a fading light, he thinks about the upcoming days, a celebration to partake in and perhaps a tourney, also a lady waiting for him. His uncle wrote him a letter that seemed to tell him everything and nothing at the same time. She is beautiful, of good family, good fortune, is young and intelligent. A betrothal is not confirmed yet it feels like his uncle is already shoving duty down his throat straight from King's Landing. In these cold hours, Ormund finds himself missing his late wife, her warmth and her devotion, death by childbirth is common yet when the stranger has come to take her, he can feel as half of him was also buried with her. He still misses her terribly but his uncle has said he must go on with life, he was also widowed so Ormund believed he should do as he was told, to live for as long as duty allowed.
“Greetings, My Prince.” Ser Criston Cole addresses with a low voice as he prepares their weapons, due to the busyness that comes with the upcoming celebration and tourney, the outer yard was crowded like a large flock of sheep, eager to slash swords instead of grazing. Ser Cole and the Prince decided to move their morning practice to an hour earlier, while it is undeniably annoying, it proves worthy enough.
“Did you have a good rest?” He asked the prince casually, Aemond only answered with a hum before he decided to elaborate more. “No, not quite, my grandsire wishes for me to chaperone my uncle, as if I don't already have enough on my day.” Ser Cole nods as he always does. “She-” Aemond seems phased to utter out your name, he does not know why, “You do hear some stories about that smug boy annulling a betrothal in favor of gaining another one?” The story immediately caught Cole’s attention, “The one that was recently knighted?”
“Yes, the one that cannot restrain his stupid smug face just because a sword bestows on his shoulder.” Aemond annoyingly put down his wooden stick, “His former betrothed will be courted by Lord Ormund Hightower. I must act as their chaperone whether I like it or not.” Ser Cole was silent for a second, thinking whether he should reveal the details he has known or not.
“His act was dishonorable, while he paraded in public with his betrothed, I did find him in a rather disheveled state holding a letter and a portrait who is certainly not her. It is not my subject but I must say she is lucky to have gotten away from such a dishonest man.” Aemond was paused by the information. He remembers that day when he first laid eyes on you, never in his life had he seen a woman so utterly deep in love, that bright smile and cheerful eyes reserved only for your betrothed. So when the news of your scandalous separation reached his ears, he finds it hard to believe, even when you run into him with all your force, eyes filled with humiliation as your shaken hand wander to fetch him his weapon, it seems as though you were drained by it completely, at least from his observation. “I might change my mind about the tourney, his house was invited, was it not?” Ser Cole reluctantly nods, curious at the prince’s intention yet he did not question it.
You enjoy a careful stroll through the balcony, the keep is much more crowded than usual due to the upcoming events. At this point, why not just go to Harrenhal? You observe the servants, the stable boys, the septas, the maesters, all preoccupied running around in the early hours. You glance around once more in excitement until the most unexpected sight takes you.
This cannot be, why is he here?
The man you used to hold dear to your heart, who you used to call the love of your life, the one who you would have gone to heaven and hell for yet he is here with another woman in his arms, smiling shyly as they arrived at the keep. You take in her face for the very first time since that day, she does not possess the look of arrogance or envy, instead she is a beauty of gentleness, much gentler than you, a naive face even, yet still not enough for you to digest. Before you decide to walk away, you can feel his gaze on you so after putting you through the most humiliated circumstances possible, the man who refused to look you in the eyes has finally gained all the courage to do so, and in return, you stare right back at him. His eyes full of guilt or longing, nothing in between, it seems he finally realised he should not have come here.
They held a private wedding to avoid any more scrutiny yet they decided to travel here where they know they will meet half of the Kingdoms, to prove what, that they truly did it? Or to humiliate you even further? After thinking you have forgotten it all, that you have finally let go and that it does not affect you, those beliefs crumble down by sharing a glance with the man who started it all. The painful betrayal returned with a stronger force, making your eyes all teary immediately. As you stepped away from the balcony. You try to compose yourself under the watchful gaze but it's hard, it's terribly hard.
A stroll back to your chamber is filled with the most dreadful thoughts. When you are so close to cage yourself in the solitude of your bed, a familiar voice calls out. “My dear, the Lord of Oldtown is here! you must- you should introduce yourself to him.” An order, not a request, you can see the immense tense in your father's eyes. You nod as you allow him to drag you to the Lord, just state your name and force out a smile.
Lord Ormund is well built and handsome as you have expected, tall with a square jaw, dressing in the same green as you always see the Queen in. “I did not mean to rush you at all, my lady, but uhh… Forgive me.” He seems just as nervous as your father, “My name is Ormund of House Hightower, the Lord of Oldtown. It is an honor to- to be in your presence.” And he possesses the good old chivalrous only the Reach could produce. You introduce yourself in return while still holding in the tears with all your strength, fortunately the conversation did not go much further when he must part away since his nephew has called for him from afar, leaving you with a soft kiss on your knuckles. Could this man hurt you just as the last one did?
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requests are open, feel free to ask <3
images' credits
Saint Jerome and Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Unknown Artist
Cats Being Instructed in the Art of Mouse-catching by an Owl by Unknown Artist
Summary | After the man you have longed for all your life broke your betrothal with a scandalous news, you return to the royal court as your father promises to find you a better man who will truly deserve you ๋࣭ ⭑
Part 2
Notes & Suggestions | Might be a series, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity (On Reader but not by Aemond), Reader is described as a noblewoman but her origin is not mentioned, 1.6K Words
What a fool you are, to believe a man could do as he promised, that such a thing like a man could have enough sense to understand the cost of his actions. You try to recollect every little memory between you and him, the man who you believed to be the love of your life. He had known you ever since you two were little children running around to two grown adults promised in a love match. You recall how he used to show you his sword, from one made of wood to a hard steel he's so proud of, promising to crown you the Queen of love and beauty if he ever won a tourney. How he used to tell you the names he'd like for your children, one son and one daughter, you'd promise to each other as you imagine the future of growing old together.
All of those break down when he announces his heart already belonged to another, confessing his sins and his wish to annul the betrothal in order to marry her. He dares not look at you, he refuses to speak to you, you doubt he even acknowledges how his sins have affected your name and wound your heart for the rest of your life. You have always believed in love, always trying to see the light in others and their best aspect. Even now, you still wonder if he has known her for as long as he has known you, if for all these times, you have been the one he lied to while she was the one who holds his true heart.
“Oh, the smell! We must be close to the Keep now, prepare yourself, my dear.” Your father exclaims as he puts one of his hands to cover his nose while another one places over yours in comfort and encouragement. While the seven hells break through both of the family's sides, you notice the way your father has ignored everything except to call you the sweetest names and remind you of how worthy you are. While it is nice to know that he understands and sides with you above it all, the painful ache from the betrayal still lingers deep inside. You pray that you will make it through the watchful gaze of the court, you are not in the wrong after all, a lustful man will not sully your name with his sins.
Walking through the hall of Red Keep, you immediately feel the stare from particularly everybody. How quickly can a scandal run from one kingdom to another? Your breath fastens as you ignore them, longing for only your bedchamber. The last time you were here, you came to support your betrothed, he was to be knighted by the King, an accomplishment he's very proud of. You still remember the smile he immediately gave you afterwards, a smile which used to melt your heart to the core but now only haunts you, why must it be this way?
You were supposed to wed at the Sept awhile after he was knighted, but he persisted on returning to both of your homeland. It sounds thoughtful at the time but now you believe it is likely his plan all along: to return to her, to annul the betrothal and humiliate you. The dreadful thoughts immediately sicken you. Finally, you arrive at your new chamber, your father has made a bold decision to travel to King's Landing instead of staying at your house’s seat. It was not only embarrassment that led him to do so but also pride, he believed both of you deserve better, while he seeks a higher position, he will find you a greater match. You already dread the thought of allowing another man into your life. You spend most of your days and nights curling in your chamber, avoiding any guest possible except for your father.
“Good news and bad news, dear, rumour has it that Lord Beesbury will return to his seat at Honeyholt due to his old age, this means a seat as master of coins at the small council is available!” You elated at the news, “Me and Lord Hand have known each other for a long time, ever since the Queen was still a lady actually, many lords will try to seek this seat as well but I believe for the length he has known me for, he and the small council shall be wise enough to elect the rightful man.” You nod as he continues, you cannot deny your father is a cunning man. Despite his cheerful and harmless nature which is rare to find at the court, he proves himself just as ambitious as those cloaked with fierce face and sharp tongue. “What about the bad news?” You ask and his face instantly drops, you know exactly where the topic is heading. “That insolent boy has announced his wedding date, a very private one it will be, not many are invited. They must’ve been so ashamed- well, they should be ashamed!”
“Father, it’s fine, let them be.” You act as if you do not care for the matter but it deeply stabs you down to your heart, “Many men have approached for your hand.” His sudden change of words makes you slip from the painful feeling immediately. “Many men!?” Your father seems pleased yet still tries to compose himself, “Father, tell me more!”, you move your seat closer to his as he slowly gathers each name. An old lord, a young heir, a fine knight. Realizing how many options there are, you couldn't believe that many people are not frightened by your scandal at all, but instead, couldn't wait but to offer themselves. While you feel slightly lighter from your observation, your father seems like he still has one more name to offer. “Lord Ormund Hightower, an offer made by Lord Hand himself, Ormund is his nephew. He is older than you but he is well-built and handsome. He was recently widowed, already have heirs and-”
“Father, I admit it pleases me to know that my name has not been completely tarnished by the annulment, but to jump right into another courting by a man who has recently lost his beloved? I do not wish to put myself between a man and his dead lover.” Your father raised his hands as he tried to explain furthermore, “Lord Hightower will travel to King's Landing with Prince Daeron at the occasion of the prince’s coming of age. Of all the offers, this one seems to elevate us the most, my dear. You as Lady of Oldtown, me as Master of Coins, those who have insulted our honor will regret it for the rest of their days!” When he noticed how you are still not as convinced, he calmed himself once more, “All I ask is to let him court you then it is your decision, aye?” You let go of your frown as you reluctantly agreed with a nod.
When you wake up the next day to the gentle light from the sun, you couldn’t deny the uplifting spirit, your heart brightened out of relief, the conversation yesterday has undeniably helped you to ease from the painful thoughts. You decide a beautiful warm morning like this shouldn’t be wasted.
Let begins with a quiet stroll through the garden.
You dressed yourself in fine clothes and simple jewels, perfectly representable. While you feel confident at first, it continuously lessens as you feel the whispers creeping to your mind, you could not help but to avoid their gaze by looking down to the floor as you quickly follow the path to the garden. Your head is battling between fear and confidence, should you care or should you not? These people do not matter, your past does not matter, but they keep staring, their whispers waging your mind despite not even knowing what they really say. You keep walking faster and faster, your breath tighten, the garden is so near-
“Darn it!” Realizing you have hit a hard figure, you quickly kneel down to fetch the wooden stick that fell from his hand but the moment you look up, you wish you had chosen to stay asleep in your chamber instead of taking this goddamn stroll. “Prince Aemond?!” Oh, what have you done?
You pray he did not take your clumsiness harshly. As you two exchange a look, you could feel his intense gaze, he does not break a single glance from your face. In this short moment, you feel utterly consumed by him. “Forgive me, I should have been-” Lost in words, you take in a deep breath before you could mutter something, just something. The prince didn't seem to care for it, he immediately grabbed the wooden stick from your trembling hands and walked away before you could properly apologize.
From the plan of strolling through the garden thinking about Lord Ormund Hightower. You find yourself pondering about the accident with Prince Aemond Targaryen instead. You wish you could crawl and hide beneath the realm itself, what a genuine yet foolish mistake it was. You can still feel his intense gaze as you take in your breath and his harshness as you let out your sigh. What a terrible impression it is, you suddenly recall when you first met the prince, you were still a promised woman at the time. The prince was present when your betrothed was knighted, head held high as he stood sternly. You did not give him much thought at the time, only caring about how handsome your betrothed looked. As you found yourself lost in these thoughts, your painful heartbreak was lightly replaced by the feeling of a childish embarrassment, you never approach the royal family, only observes them from afar despite living under the same roof.
You choose not to tell your father about the accident, he would usually laugh at silly little mistakes but at this moment where he takes every move of his so seriously, it is better to keep it to yourself.
masterlist for more
requests are open, feel free to ask <3
images' credits
Saint Jerome and Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Unknown Artist
Cats Being Instructed in the Art of Mouse-catching by an Owl by Unknown Artist
Summary | After realizing his mistakes, Cregan attempted to court you again with the advice of his good ol' friend ๋࣭ ⭑
Warning & Suggestions | Fluff, Reader is described as a southern noblewoman but her appearance is not mentioned, Cregan is a mix of canon and fanon, just pure fluff. 2K Words
The Warden of the North, the Wolf of Winterfell, the- the- the-
All these titles and aliases for the mighty Cregan Stark yet all you could recall of him was how oblivious he is. You bite down your food as you carefully observe him. Every single thought you have of him has you turned into a wild, maddened kind of creature. And while you are struggling with containing yourself, there he is, sitting with his men, so unaffected.
Loosen from your thoughts, you stood from your seat at the table. Catching the attention of everyone, sounds of coughing and whispers, all you did was staring into Cregan's eyes. "I am quite full, Lord Stark, may I be excused?" The tension which seems to only affect you, is nearing to explode, all you wish for is to be far from everyone. "Of course." He said.
"Of course." That was all he said. No titles, no names!? Did he even remember your name? Is he aware that you are his betrothed? Or were you merely a stranger bound to him by a promise? You harshly grumble under your breath as you settle into your tub, the heating water is battling with your fuming thoughts.
You were betrothed to Cregan Stark over two moons ago, despite the contract being signed and the betrothal being announced. Your parents, fearing that the fierce lord could annul the betrothal at any moment, decided to send you to Winterfell alone.
"Mother, please! Tell father to change his mind. Everyone knows a Stark never breaks their oath. Please don't send me to Winterfell yet!"
All those pleadings only fell on deaf ears, your cheeks stained of tears as you made the journey to the north. The chilling snow and cool breeze made you frown, worrying of settling into a new place where you are truly alone, well.... at least you will have your betrothed, your future lord husband, he will be there by your side, after all a Stark is always an honorable, respectful man.
Stupid, you were so stupid. You couldn't grasp where it all went wrong. Perhaps you have expected too much from him. At the arrival, you walked out of your carriage and came to meet Cregan for the very first time. His eyes bearing into yours, is this the kind of moment the bards would sing and write about? He offers his hand and kisses the back of your clothed hand. In this second, there is hope, love and desire building up inside of you but all was shattered when he opened his mouth. “Take the lady to her chamber, prepare her for supper.”
Confused by his sudden change, “My lord, I have yet to introdu-” your words cut short. “There is no need, we can discuss it at supper.” You just stood there, breathing in and out of the coldness. You thought there would be someone to keep your company, someone chattery or fun at least, but it seems that everyone here tried to avoid you, especially the men. Whether it's the way they quickly run to a different path when they notice you or the fact that they wouldn't look at you in the eyes.
So this is why your father is so eager to send you to Winterfell as soon as possible. Marrying a Stark is easy but to keep a betrothal at its full strength until the wedding is a different story. Now, you are merely a stranger from a different region here, unwelcome and untrusted.
You open your eyes, realizing that the water has started to cool down, why must you always think about the past? Why bother giving your time to these thoughts? You step out of the wooden tub, gently wipe each part of your body, this is your most treasured time. Everything is always quiet and calm, there is no need to worry, no concern of who will bothe-
“Milady.” Your handmaid came closer as she handed you the scented oil for your body, “Lord Stark requested your presence, now.” The ways her fingers tangled and remarked at the ‘now’ made you quite confused. He has never asked to be alone with you, why would he do so after wasting so much of your presence to simply sit next to him like a dimly ghost.
What is it that he wants? You wonder while following your handmaiden to his bedchamber. Behind closed doors was Cregan sitting at the round table, playing with an orb. Without his large fur coat, his arm muscles and broad shoulders immediately take your attention.
The doors were closed as you slowly curtsy to him. “Please sit.” he pulled a chair beside him but instead of doing what he wished, you pulled a chair in the opposite direction and sat, acting clueless at the mind games you're attempting to bait him in. You try to not smile when you hear his sigh and see his dissatisfied eyes. This is fun.
“I summon you here because your family is currently traveling to the North. After their arrival, we will be wed. Might I ask what you have in mind?” You weren't fully listening as you kept looking at his hands, they're larger than you remember but why is he shaking, is he nervous?
“If you called me here just to plan a wedding then I shall summon for the septa, any of her advice is necessary to me but I feared she wouldn't answer, the hour is quite late after all.” He sighs again at your answer. “Forgive me if I have interrupted you, it is true, the hour is quite late.”
“And scandalous, I wouldn't wish for any rumors that I visit my betrothed late at night in his chamber, doing what? planning a wedding.” You chuckle as you look at him. “No one will dare utter such things about you, even if they do, I will defend you.” He confidently said. “No need, Lord Stark.” You stood from your seat, bending your knee into a curtsy as you're about to leave.
“Wait” He followed you before you could open the door. Taking your hands in his, eyeing you up and down as he struggles to speak his mind. At this out-of-the-blue behavior, you didn't know what to do, he has never held your hands this way. You could feel his warmth, his strength and the wine on his scent. Piercing glances but both of you are lost at words.
“Stay…” He softly said.
After days and nights of no attempt to bond with you, suddenly he asks you to stay with him in his chamber, at this hour? Is it the wine he drinks? Did someone put a spell on him?
“I wish to plan over the welcome of my family, as far as I know, you are not as excellent at it.” You give him a flash of a forced smile and open the doors to leave. Cregan, well, Cregan was confused. It has been a few years since he has courted a woman. Is calling her to his chamber a move that is too bold and reckless?
“You are stupid.” The words left from his good ol’ friend’s mouth, Lord Jonnel Cerwyn, followed by a loud laughter. Cregan tries to keep his composure, speaking at his lowest voice possible. “What am I supposed to do?” Jonnel looks at him, “You're a widower, a father, for gods’ sakes, Cregan. And you came all this way to talk to me about this far-off woman. Just court her like you have done before. Talk to her, give her things, stay on her good side.” Cregan nodded at his friend's advice.
“Well, I wasn't exactly on her good side...” His words made his friend stand still, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Wha- What’d you mean?” Now, Cregan has to explain how he has not been properly courting you at all. “Two moons! You did nothing for that woman at all? Did you even compliment her at least?” Cregan shakes his head. Jonnel, with head in his hands, disappointed by his friend's cluelessness. “Tis the wolf of Winterfell? the fearful warden of the north, aye? You dumb shit.” Such vulgar words should not be taken lightly but Jonnel is his most trusted companion, so in response, Cregan just stood there, agreeing. He had a head for battle, hunting and ruling, but love? He has loved before but so long ago it was. Still, he carefully listens to his good friend. He hopes it's not too late to start again.
Upon returning to his castle, Cregan brought the most beautiful winter roses with him. Prying eyes and whispers do not worry him as much as the possible outcome of your reaction. “She is my betrothed, she is my betrothed, she is my betrothed.” He repeated under his breath.
Opening the door to your chamber, he meets with an unexpected sight. His son, Rickon, is singing his lungs out with his palm holding onto his heart while you sit at the table trying to control your gigglings, your handmaid standing beside who also seems quite taken by the whole situation. “Oh- Lord Cregan Stark!” Your handmaid announced. His arrival makes you instantly compose yourself and stand to welcome him, Rickon who is not less than pleased, runs to hug his father. Upon noticing the roses in his hand, your handmaid quickly excuses herself and takes little Rickon with her.
“I wasn't aware you spent time with Rickon.” His eyes follow as you return to your seat, still in high spirits from Rickon’s attempt to prove that he can bests the voice of all Southern bards. “Well, not a lot anyway, it's just that his father left since dawn and suddenly all his lessons were finished before noon.” Both of you let out a chuckle until you realize you are joking with Cregan. The sudden laughter turns into a moment of silence upon the realization, Cregan immediately hands you the roses, such a thoughtful act but his face is still as stern as ever.
Confused by his act but you still promptly thank him. “For what occasion this might be, my lord?” You question as you smell the roses. “For last night” His answer makes you stop smelling it. “I want us to start over again, my beautiful lady.” You tilt your head at his compliment.
Jonnel said to give you gifts, compliment you, be on your good side. Cregan feels pride as he thinks he has succeeded. “Why now?” You ask him. “Why now?” He repeats. “Yes, why are you kind to me now? Why are you giving me roses, calling me beautiful and wanting to start over now?” So many questions all at once, what is he supposed to say? “Because I love you, my lady of Winterfell.”
“Tis the wolf of Winterfell? The fearful warden of the north, aye? You dumb shit.” Jonnel’s words ringing loud as Cregan excuses himself before you could properly register his words.
The next day, you were occupied with the arrival of your family. Despite him avoiding you, he still observes you dealing with the chaos and stress from preparing what you call, “The most perfect welcome to ever exist.”, he noticed how you still manage to be uplifting through it all as you and your septa wander around the castle, practicing your curtsey and noting each important steps for the tour which you wanted to give to your family. Cregan and you have yet to discuss what happened yesterday, in fact, Cregan has prayed that you didn't recall even a slight of it.
As your family arrived for the upcoming wedding, Cregan noticed how you are in high spirits, smiling and laughing all the time even when your mother's complaining. He hopes the winter roses he has sent to your chamber every morning is a part of the reason why your smile keeps on brightening from day to day. He himself has made many changes including purposefully lessening Rickon’s lessons so that he could spend time with you, and to tighten the bond between you and Cregan, he has hosted a private supper every evening where you could converse any matter with him.
It works as he intended, everything is better than when you had first arrived. You gain your voice and confidence yet he is still upset at his own failure to court you better. But now, with you dining each bite and taking each sip, Cregan feels the urge to finally discuss the past.
“Forgive me for mistreating you when you first came to Winterfell, my lady. I must admit that I failed to be a proper betrothed.” You keep taking a small bite from the food as if nothing ever affect you, purposely or not, he decided to continue. “I should have been gentle but due to my personal circumstances, I failed to do so but I hope you find the mercy to forgive me.”
“Mercy!? Do you see me as some evil witch planning to cast you down, ser?” Cregan failed to read the tone of your taunting words, “Are you?”, you couldn't help but smile at him.“Cregan, I am happy.”
“I was upset at first, confused by your coldness and the unwelcomeness when I first arrived but I do not find it in me to uphold such a grudge, at least not for long, my septa said it is the nature of humans.” He nods as you continue, “I was alone but I found my way to bond with people, Rickon for example, he's such a bundle of surprises, that one. Still, I am upset but It is good to hear your apologies.”
“A true honorable man is not afraid to admit his mistakes.” He says as you nod in return, “Very true.” The conversation goes on as for the very first time, you and Cregan show a side of vulnerability, flowing from stories of your youth to the wound of his past.
The hours have passed as you welcomed your wedding day with a brighter light of your to-be-husband. “Good Morrow, Lady Stark!” You open your eyes with a full smile as your handmaidens run around your chamber, preparing for the most important event of your life. You bathed in warm water, scented with soft roses and dressed in the beautiful gown you have always dreamed of. Even your mother had cried at the sight. Walking to the heart tree by your father, the wedding was like a dream. Cregan could not resist the beaming flooding from his face as you kneel before the heart tree and exchange your vows.
The feast was held in both of your families’ honor. Hours of eating, chattering, drinking, and dancing to come. You and Cregan dance together for the very first time, both nervous as you pace within the rhythm around the room. Cregan noticed Jonnel smiling with a proud face, nodding at his friend, Cregan kept dancing with you, song after song, enjoying the day you finally became his wife, the Lady of Winterfell.
masterlist for more
requests are open, feel free to ask <3
images' credits
Still Life with Ewer and Basin, Fruit, Nautilus Cup and Other Objects by Willem Kalf
A Flower Still Life with Peonies, Irises, Hydrangea in a Copper Kettle, a Beetle and Butterflies by Marie Beloux-Hodieux
Still Life with a Nautilus Cup by the Willem Kalf
notes
I wrote this one a long time ago and I try to add a lot of elements into it, this is the first time that I write for Cregan and I'd say I wrote him really soft and nice, I hope you enjoy this!
Summary | Aemond has begged for many things in his life and for one last time, he gets down on his knees and begs for you ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | Fluff & tiny bit of Angst, soft dark!aemond, heavily inspired by Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want by Deftones (originally The Smiths)
Speak the wrong thing, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
These words have rotted deep inside Aemond's mind ever since he was a child, for he has always been the butt of a joke to his own brother and nephews.
In the beginning, he lets them jest all they wish, enduring their laughter as if it meant nothing. But after times and times of the same old jokes, it is no more fun, it has never been fun.
He started to defend himself, spit back at Aegon's words and try to fight, but still he failed. And in the last resort, he found himself on his knees, crying over and over again.
“Please, please, please, give me the biggest dragon in the world.” Tears streaming down as he begs the gods. He promises to be a changed man if he ever has a dragon.
And the gods seem to have heard him but nothing in the world has ever come without its price. For the very first time in his life, Aemond got his wish as he rode Vhagar through the dark night sky. And for a minute, he felt like he had own the world. After countless nights of practicing High Valyrian, imagining a dragon in front of him as he shouted the word out loud.
“Dohaerās!”
“Lykirī!”
“Sōvēs!”
Now, slowly patting the back of Vhagar, this is real, seeing his tears dropping on Vhagar, this is truly real. He has finally proved himself worthy to be a dragonrider to his father, a perfect son to his mother and a true Targaryen to his brother and his nephews.
His thoughts run short when he notices the Velaryons and the Strongs from below.
“I will not fear them, Vhagar has proved me worthy of her, I will not fear anyone.” He thinks to himself as he comes down to face them.
“It’s him!”
“It’s me.” Aemond feels confidence runs through him like a raging fire, pushing him to all the ways to say things he's always afraid of.
“Vhagar is my mother's dragon!” The girl argued hard with no less confidence than him. “Your mother's dead.” Aemond worries he is too bold but there is no stopping from this moment. “And Vhagar has a new rider now.” He continues with pride on his face.
“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena shouts with her twin sister’s comfort from the back. Aemond was silent for a second as he observes everyone around, none of their dragons can compare to his. Arrax is young, Vermax can barely obey and Moondancer is nothing to Vhagar. Smiling at his realization, “Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride, it would suit you.” He looks at all of them. Threats shouted with punches exchanged, Aemond has insulted them just as they once did to him but never in his life has he thought something so brutal would happen to him.
“The scar will heal but the eye could never do the same, your grace.” Aemond grips the chair hard, he has lost his eye. He looks at his mother with tears full of pain. “Please, please, please, mother, help me.” He thinks to the mother and his own as the maester stitches his scar.
And his mother tried to help him, with the same pleadings in her eyes as she looked at his father, The King, the one who can truly give him everything but the King didn't return the same look in his eyes, he gave those to only his daughter and bash away Aemond's pain. However, his mother couldn't give up, she stood with duty heavy on her back, running to takes Lucerys’s eye. Everything from that night still haunts him and he couldn't look at the King the same.
Aemond did become a changed man, just as he promised to the gods in exchange for a dragon. Not the kind of change he has imagined. Instead, he has become a brute, poisoned with hatred and not even an ounce of sympathy left inside of him.
The Sept is no longer his place of comfort and he rarely begs the gods for anything. Aemond believes he has gotten everything he ever wanted, everything he needs to be a Targaryen. But no, it is far from the truth. Deep inside, Aemond feared that if he ever dared uttering a single wish to the gods, they would take something important from him in return. It could be his other eye, his title, his dragon or even his own life-
“Please, please, please, let this woman be the bride of mine for I have endured the pain my whole life. Let her be mine, for this will be my one last wish.”
Aemond feels bitterness twists through his words, he feels like a fool being down on his knees. After all these years of resentment, he broke all his promises and ran all his way back to the gods one more time. He said his prayers sternly, the gods must answer his wish after all they've done to him, he believes himself deserving something as dainty and perfect as you.
All of his thoughts slowly fade as his blurring sight clears into the vision of you standing right in front of him, wearing a pure white gown with wild flowers in your hair.
The gods have answered his prayers.
With each time he blinks, each breath he takes, every single piece of you has finally revived into a wish he has always yearn to be blessed. The way you talk, the way you smile and how you spin around with that white gown of yours, he has never been allured by a woman's beauty like this.
“I am forever grateful to be your wife, my prince.” The sweet words dropping from your lips. He didn't know whether he wanted to be eternally confined by your love or to be freed from your lure. After nights of endless prayers, thinking that his wish has been torn aside and forgotten. But at this sight with you as his bride and from now on, his wife. Aemond feels seen, listened and answered, not only by the judgment of the gods but also by you.
He turns to look at you once more, “Same as I, to be your husband is truly a gift from gods.”
Feeling all smug with his answered prayers, Aemond seems to forget that nothing in the world has ever come without its price. Now, he can enjoy his days and nights with the love of his life but soon, the gods will find their ways and take anything they could in exchange of his one last wish.
masterlist for more
requests are open! feel free to ask ♡
images' credits
Society Lady With a Spray of Lilac by Hermann Clementz
Summary | After his wife's suspicious behavior, Aemond finds out of her doings & decides to see it for himself ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | Book!Aemond, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Violence (Not on reader), Torture (Not on reader), Threats
You were only eight and ten when your father and the Queen wedded you to her son, Prince Aemond Targaryen.
“A good match, is it not? my darling girl,” Your father asks as you two walk through the sept together. Pure bliss in his eyes as he observes the place of your upcoming wedding. “You will be wed here, and trust me my darling, the wedding will be as grand as his brother's.”
“Father…” Would it be wrong to doubt his decision?
“What if I don't wish to marry him?” His silence already answers everything that you need to know. “What are you speaking of? you foolish little girl. He is a dragonrider, the King's second son, do you know how valuable that is?”
“He doesn't seem content at our betrothal!” Desperation creeps out of your voice with tears threaten out of your eyes. Your father’s hands land on both of your shoulders, one loud sigh as you feel his tighten squeeze. “Daughter, I’ve raised you a dutiful girl, I have done everything for you and now it is your turn.” You stood still in hopelessness, stunned by the heavy burden he has putted on your shoulder. Your father promptly kissed your forehead and left, the sound of his cussing fade within the tunnel.
And since then, you have done as he said. You wedded Prince Aemond with a smile plastered on your face and endured the painful ache from your wedding night. Everytime your father came to visit in King's Landing, claiming that he has missed his favorite girl but you can see it right through him, he just wanted to use you as his other pawn, and for the longest time, you knew he has been a frequent visitor to street of silver, where gamblers will gather together.
“I am changing myself, my sweet daughter, this time, i promise to cherish the chance you give upon me." You look at the man in front of you, who is holding your face in his palms but you couldn't recognize him for a single bit.
Is this truly the same man that used to tell you a tale after a nightmare, the very same man that brings you sweets and treats just to see you smile? You hope there are still some pieces of that man inside him. But now, all you see is a man with ruined honor, nothing like a father.
“I do not think the prince will be pleased-”
“What are you speaking of, daughter!? He is your husband!” His shout already tired you out. “Don't you wish to see your father content?” He continued as you slowly sit down to rest, your father follows and kneels beside, trying to compose himself. “Please, please help me, my child.” Holding your hand tight, you can only look at him with sorrow. You notice the way his eyes were red from the strongwine, and the darkness forming under his eyes, what is a use of a daughter if it's not to help their father?
“The sept, tomorrow.”
What a shame this is. The last time you had lied to Aemond that you wanted some gold for your new clothes. But since then, you still have the same wardrobe, you thank the gods that he hadn't noticed nor said anything about it.
⚖
“Husband!” You call him with cheerfulness after he returns from his practice. “I’ve prepared you a bath.” Taking his hand as you lead him to the wooden tub. You slowly unbutton his leather clothes, greatful that he didn't react to your sudden change demeanor yet. While your betrothal has started off coldly, both of you have found yourself to be fond of each other as time passes, it takes much work and it proves its worth well. Aemond never frights away when you would asked him of something, whether it's a favor or golds, even with slight hesitation, he still answers all your prayers like a dutiful husband he is.
“I’ve missed you,” You kiss him softly on both of his cheeks before you take off his clothes, ignoring the cold looks in his eyes. Laying all the leather clothes into the basket nearby, you return to him as you begin to eagerly massage his sore shoulders. “How has your day been, husband?” You continued to press onto his muscles. “As its usual except for the part where my wife is being attentive which only happens when she wants something from me," His glaring words hushed you before he even finishes his sentence, making you drop your act immediately. “What do you want?”
You swallow your pride, “Golds.”
“Again?” You nod at him, why must you subject yourself to this humiliating escapade over and over?
“What happened to your winter collection, has it arrived yet? or should I say have you even met with the seamstress?” Upon hearing no answers and feeling no pressure from your gentle palms, Aemond turns to look at you. And gods, you are crying. “Wife-” You stand on your feet and walk away before he could catch you. Your husband, fazed by your reaction, rises from the heated water and follows you as he folds the thin linen around his waist.
The sight of you crying on the edge of the bed with head in your hands. An image of his wife's distress, all caused by him.
Confused of what is happening. Aemond swallows down his anger into a composed manner, “I apologize, my dear wife, I didn't mean to-” A sight of him begging for forgiveness is already rare as it is, yet here he is, kneeling for something he fully believes he didn't cause. “I will bring it to you on the morrow, you must know I didn't mean to accuse you of anything.”
The next morning, you wake up to the sight of two sackets of gold on the table, much heavier than the ones you have been gifted before. You count it and quickly prepare to go to meet your father, disguised as a lady going to the sept. How wrong this is, fooling your own husband, and everyone.
You look at him, cheeks stained of tears. It was a few seconds of silence before you take a hold of his hand, inviting him to the comfort of your shared mattress as you gently push him onto the bed. This is not the first time that you have done this but every single time, you have hoped it would be the last. All these shame and guilt of taking advantage of your husband, it is wrong but your father always make sure to remind you that your are your father's daughter first before your husband's wife second.
⚖
As you arrive, you walk through the holy hall, trying to find your father. You look around carefully before a lurking shadow reveal itself, “Father,” His smile brightens as he notices the sackets you're holding. Grabbing it from your hand, you can only look at him with sadness. “Let this be the last time, go back to our castle, it's never too late to change, father.” He brushes off your attempt to convince him. “Those people, thinking they are better than me-”
Aemond has indeed been following you. After all, he couldn't help but notice the way you have been acting strange for so long. The amount of times you ask him golds for clothes, for jewelry, for books, for fragrance, but never once has he seen any of these things in your shared chamber. Not to mention the swollen eyes you have from crying every so often, and the whispers of your father, Aemond couldn't careless that your father is gambling himself into debt, he believes his sinful deeds don't matter to him or his wife for he has sworn to protect her since the day he placed his house's cloak on her shoulders.
“Father, me and my husband can't help you anymore after this.” You hold his hands tight but he quickly excuses himself, running away without even a hushed goodbye. You watch as he leaves again with tears running from your eyes. “Wife,” The sound of your husband's voice made you startle as you turned to look at him. Gods no, has he been following you?
⚖
Soon after you have fallen asleep, Aemond went to one of his most trusted companions, Ser Criston Cole. “The Queen has told me that your lady wife's father has been seen on the street of silver. He is a frequent visitor, especially after the death of his wife. He has drowned himself in cups, betting on his life. I believed that he is the man your wife has been giving those golds to,” Aemond hums at the story. “What should we do with him, my prince?” The question makes Aemond wonder. He couldn't kill your father, you would never forgive him but if he lets him go, that man will return to suck out your blood like a leech he is. “I will think about it.”
“Aemond! I didn't know you would be here, my darling love. You could've told me you will visit the sept, we would've come here together,” The rush in your voice, trying to sugarcoat him with sweet name and hide everything even now. “Why are you here, wife?” you are stunned at his question, trying to keep it together despite the obvious tears lingering on your skin. “To pray, of course, it seems like a good day to pray to the father for justness, is it not?” Aemond laughs cruelly at your answer. “Brings him here, Ser Cole.”
As he watches you left in a carriage for a morning prayer, Aemond and Criston follow you right after. The sight of you begging your father with tears in your eyes, so lost and helpless. Aemond knew that feeling before and he be damned if he allows it to happen to you once more.
⚖
You father, dragged by Ser Cole, but he cares not at the humiliation, he only holds tight onto the gold sackets. “Father,” Your voice’s weak as you suffer into a sob. “Please, Aemond, let him go.”
“You pray to the father for justness, you say? This is justness, wife.” Ser Cole released your father and he fell to the ground. You kneel to help him, still crying. “Father,” You try to hug him, to hold his face in your palms as a sense of comfort but all he did was avoid it. “Aemond, I apologize, please forgive us.” You plead with him once more.
“It is not your fault, my darling love, come here,” He orders you but you were reluctant, still kneeling stubbornly beside your father. “Come here or I will kill him,” With a single threat, you force yourself to let go, whispering comfort to your father as you return to your husband's side. “Ser Cole.” At the mention, the knight brings out a dagger close to your father's face.
“Aemond, Aemond, please, no, Ser Cole, please.” Aemond silenced you instantly, “These two sackets will be the last golds you get from me and my wife. You will never return back here or ever think of contacting my wife again.” Your father spits at Ser Cole for Aemond's threat. As the situation has worsened, Ser Cole brings the edge of the dagger close to your father's face. Blood slowly drops from his cheeks. You tighten your hold on Aemond's arms, begging him louder and louder.
Aemond left your side and kneel down to confront your father, taking the dagger from his side, he pointed it at your father's left eye. “Swear it! swear to it or I will carve out your eye, like they did to mine.” With a dagger right at his left eye, your father instantly swears he will never be seen again. When your husband and the knight let go of him, he immediately runs with those two sackets of gold. The father you love so dearly didn't even bother to look back at you, not even a single glance.
“Come, wife.” Aemond orders you and you follow him obediently. Returning to Red Keep, you did not talk to him right after the incident. Feared and humiliated, you also miss your father, you wish to know if he is safe, if his cuts have healed yet. And while you are still reluctant with your husband's act, both of you know that this is more than necessary. For Aemond loves you as deep as the depth of the ocean that he will protect you from any cruelty of the world, even if it is your father.
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The Card Sharp with the Ace of Diamonds by Georges de La Tour
Summary / As the diamond of the season, no one could ever deny you, not even your one-eye prince ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions / Fluff, a bit of kissing but nothing NSFW, The title “Diamond of the Season” inspired by Bridgerton, basically idiots in love
Delight, desire and jealousy flowed through all the lords' and ladies' eyes as they exchanged their whispers of you. Within the walls, you have heard it whether it was about your beauty, your nature, even the way you walk or the sound of your talk.
Ever since your arrival at court, young and old lords have been following you everywhere, offering to guard you through the castle as they try to impress you with their bare skills. The ladies often invite you to their gatherings, you do enjoy listening to all the gossip and you know well that when you're not there, it is you who is the topic.
You didn't mind it still, after all, their perception of you only turned you into what you have always wanted, “Diamond of the Season”, the reserved title pronounced by the Queen. In each year, her grace will do the honour presenting the season's diamond at the celebration of her wedding's anniversary to King Viserys I of House Targaryen.
You held your head high as she announced your name. This is all you have ever wanted. It takes you back to when you were just a little girl, your lady cousin was named as the season's diamond, you remember attending her grand wedding to the noble lord of Westerlands and every time you saw her afterwards, she would always dress in the most lavishing gowns and finest gold.
You smile at the thought. This title would benefit you in every single way possible. As a maiden, men across the seven kingdoms would duel to take your hands. Going as far as to offer you the most of themselves only to hear your rejection.
“What a fine jewel, Lord Wylde.” You can see him grinning, thinking he has succeeded.
“But I do not think your wives would be pleased to know that you have gifted me this.” You put down the jewel as you stared right through him. He was a much older man, the “Ironrod”, the man who had wedded four wives and sired twenty-nine children. You would never marry him, he is merely a distraction.
“My fair maiden, I would displease them a thousand times over if it meant to be in your presence.” You could not believe any words you just heard. “As a fair maiden, I have been gifted with things greater than jewels. Perhaps we could discuss your pleasure and your wives' displeasure later.” You instantly stand and leave, giggling to yourself as he was lost at his words.
During noon, you have a quiet time with Princess Helaena. Sweets such as lemon cakes, apple tarts and mint tea were laid fully on the table. The second you were named the season's diamond, you were particularly following the Queen around as her lady-in-waiting. But as you were closer to her daughter's age, your role was changed to Princess Helaena's lady instead. The two of you didn't have many similarities, but there are senses of comfort growing through your friendship which only brings you two closer. “Have you found a proper man?” Helaena asked you as she drank the mint tea. “The tea would do you good, princess, it soothes and reliefs-”
“Do not turn a deaf ear to me.” She interrupted you and you stared at her. “It has been stressful enough, but I promised you, I would choose a husband who will stay in court so we will always be close to each other.” You touch her hand in comfort as a gentle smile appears. “You didn't hear it from me but Ironrod tried to persuade me this morrow.” You can see her pure shock and you two started giggling. “Ironrod? Lord Wylde?! Did he not have four wives already? Twenty-nine kids, I have heard” You nodded. “Three as of now, his last wife died of exhaustion.”
“I wouldn't wish to see you beside him.” You chuckled again. “Never, I already have a chosen man in mind, I promised to choose the one whose presence in court, didn't I?” As you finished your sentence, that man appeared just at the right time. “Brother” Helaena greeted him but his eye only looked at you and you grinned at him. It was only a short second, but it seemed like he understood every single thought in your mind. He didn't bother to stay after, immediately leaving to attend his duties. What a pity.
But it didn't take too long until he ran back into your arms. “Is it true? Did he try to ask for your hand?” He kissed your neck with pure lust and hunger, you laughed at his questions. “Jealousy suits you so well, my Aemond.” You softly move your hands on his chest back and forth. “I did tell you that once a man who's rich enough, fine enough and brave enough asks for my hand, I will answer.” Your words anger, his grip tighten on you. “He is nothing close to that, tis I who of royalty and ancient house that could provide all your needs, it is I, who is brave enough to asks for your hand-”
“Yet, it is I who have only ever heard sweet nothing from you.” You playfully push him away. “If you truly wish to see me bare your name and your children, you would take me to the Septon and make me your wife, as simple as that.” You left him there right after. You have already made up your mind, it will always be Aemond. As his wife, you will be the lady of House Targaryen, your children will have dragon eggs placed in their cradles. Dragon riders' blood flows through their veins. You know that only he could answer to the power you have thirst for and the love you have desired.
As a fortnight passed, all the signs were finally clear. “I have named you the season's diamond myself. It is only right that you should become my daughter-in-law.” The Queen said as she held your hand. Aemond stands behind her as he stares at you. After all the little glances, soft touches and teasing whispers, it finally happened. The Diamond of the Season has become the wife of Aemond Targaryen.
Summary | The aftermath of your husband's death has led you to your own disastrous ending ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | Angst, Major Characters' Deaths, Description of Deaths, Assassination, Toxic Relationship, Basically what i think will realistically happen if you were to be Aemond's wife during the war
Your husband is dead. His corpse was rotten deep in the bottom of Gods Eye with his dragon and that damn sword in his socket. You remember how he kissed you and promised to return. You can still recall how the sun is falling as the two dragons rise with roars of anger, they have come to face each other with mad men on their saddles.
He will come back to me, the dragons wrap around each other. He will survive, screeching of pain shook the land. He promised, they flew higher where no one, except the gods could only see. There was a moment of silence, no roars, no screams, nothing, but just seconds after, two Targaryens fell from the highest sky, followed by their dragons. All dead.
What will you do now? You are a widow to one of the cruelest men in the war. He was a murderer, a monster, a man possessed by vengeance, and now he died with it. Should you stay here in Harrenhal? To be as close as you can to him, or should you return to King's Landing? Surrender yourself to the blacks and let them be done with it.
You ended up staying in Harrenhal, paranoid and in despair. You spend days and nights thinking of him, how everything is ruined. Here in this castle, the witch protects you from harm. For what reason? You wouldn't want to know.
“Is it true he laid with you?” You asked her one night, she came to meet your cold stare “It wouldn't matter.” you chuckled at that “You were pregnant, with his bastard?” the two of you look at another once more. With Aemond's death, you will come to face the reality he sheltered you from. “Not a bastard, we wedded.” She instantly turned to leave, “He was married to me.” She stopped “And he loved you 'till his very last breath, did he not?”
You never knew peace right after, ravens flew as fleshes were fed into battles. You have heard of your sister-in-law's death, how she gave herself to the stranger with spikes through her stomach, how cruel. And the news of dragons' deaths came right after. Some were struck in the head, stabbed through their bodies by hundreds of men and women. Their corpses were paraded through the street. That night, King's Landing burned. And The Dragon Queen was nowhere to be found, though she lost another one of her sons to her beloved dragon. When another raven arrived, Rhaenyra Targaryen is dead. Still, the war was not over.
Aegon returned to his seat as King. Half of his body was burned. When you arrived at King's Landing, he was a close image to his father, a gold mask to hide the ugly truth, servants to carry him everywhere. He was begging to be freed, a walking corpse, you think to yourself. But he's still the same man you knew, heedless to the sound of wolves, he only thinks of his wedding to his new lady, Cassandra Baratheon.
Before it could happen, Aegon was dead with blood on his lips. And the war ended. You watched as his nephew ascended the Iron Throne and wedded Helaena's only daughter. You softly braided her hair as you prepared her for the ceremony and she turned to hug you, a very rare gesture. “I miss you.” The sweet girl looked up to you, and you kissed her forehead. “I miss you too.” You gave all your time to care for her, she needed a mother after all.
The Dowager Queen, on the other hand, had grown to insanity. She whispered apologies and threats as she teared herself to eat, sleep and live. It was a painful sight to see, she often frightened you with her words. “Take this and slit his throat, kill that boy.” Jaehaera screamed for you and begged to be alone right after.
You have thought that this is the life you would have to settle for. What a fool you were. In less than a year, you attend both funerals of your mother-in-law and your niece. Everything turned black as you walked through the corridor, those pity stares and low whispers. What will be left of you now? Will the council send you to Harrenhal, back to that witch queen? You hope not, she promised you nothing but a false sense of security ordered by your dead husband.
Slowly, you are driven to insanity with grief and anger. Repeating of how your husband betrayed you, how they've killed your sweet girl, how they are coming for you. You lost all your strength and will to live, drained and tired at the thoughts of waking up once more day. Many believed you had gone mad, but to you, it was all a sign. Your husband must have waited to hear your forgiveness, the way you dream of him during the darkest nights despite all the pains he brings you, it has to mean something.
You only confined in your chambers as isolation has become your solution to shelter your sadness and keep yourself together. You refused to talk to anyone, they are all your enemies, they all meant nothing but to harm you.
As the sun sets, you drink your favorite honeyed-wine, it reminds you of all those memories, on your name-day, at your wedding, at you and your husband's very last night together. You bitterly smile at the thoughts as they flash through your mind, you were so happy. But now, you look through the window of your room, and suddenly feel something, something strange. Your breath quickens, your chest rises as you feel the burn through your body, blood floods through your nose, you realized.
Falling to your knees as you hold onto your stomach, blood dropping everywhere on the carpet. You try to shout for help, but all that comes out was gasp. And before you were able to reach the door, you lay down on the floor as you started to drift away. All your visions are clouded, ringing filled your ears, and you give up. Staring at the ceiling, you accepted death as you lose your last breath. No one will ever harm you again.
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notes : I have many endings in my mind, one is reader being poisoned by Alys or a spy from the blacks, second is reader getting married off by the small council during Aegon III's reign. I ended up choosing this one so it left an open ending wether who poisoned her.
images' credits ๋࣭ ⭑
Mrs. Winthrop W. Aldrich (Harriet Alexander) - Joaquín Sorolla
The Wedding Dress - Frederick William Elwell
Judith with the Head of Holofernes - Francesco Cairo
Summary | Aemond and his way of showing you his love through gifts. And one time where you showed your love back to him ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | No warnings at all, Soft!Aemond, Fluff, Happy Marriage, No physical description of reader
Notes | Another sweet and soft fluff to rot your tooth.
A necklace of gold, each pendant is either amethyst or sapphire, alternating and complimenting each other at the same time. They are glimmering, beautiful and daring-
“Do you like it?” You looked up to him, realized that you have been staring at the necklace far too long, a sentence barely formed in your thought, “It's...you shouldn't have, it's too-” It's unduly, especially for the first courting between you and the prince. “It'd match you well, my lady.” Worry runs across your body until his hands touch your hair, placing a necklace on your neck. Now, you are blushing hard “Thank you, my prince.”
Moons have passed and soon enough, you will wed your future husband in the holy place of Grand Sept. You find it hard to sleep, thinking of every little things. Aemond has been kind to you ever since the first courting, showering you with gifts of the greatest value. The jewelry hanging on your dressing table is a proof of it. You couldn't help but worry that all this gesture would disappear the second you married him.
As you fell into a deep sleep, you dreamed of dragons. You recognize Vhagar from the large size and the mighty face. Beside Vhagar was an ivory dragon of a smaller size, yet the air around that beautiful dragon brightened everything. There was gold tracing around. You've never read or seen any dragons like this in real life. The two creatures are flying together through the highest sky, sounds of roaring and wings clapping wake you up to the early morning.
You think of the dream as you prepare for the day. Once you are done, you quickly make your way to Aemond to tell him of the dream, how captivating it is that you wished to be stuck there for eternity.
On the wedding night, while you wait for your husband patiently. He enters your chamber with a prideful grin and takes you to a mysterious chest with dragons carved on the surface. You gasped at the sight of the creamy-and-gold dragon egg. It was stoned and old, yet the scales were exactly how you saw in your dream. “How did you get this?” your fingers traced the egg's scales, just like the dream.
“A merchant sold me this in a great deal, it was stolen and stoned but it's still beautiful.” his hands reach to your waist to hold you tight. “Such a coincidence it is, must have been a good sign for our marriage” you smile at his thoughtfulness, “Thank you, my husband.”
As the wedding passed, your marriage has turned into everything you have dreamed of. You and your husband have spent time together more freely. You told him about your interests, especially flowers, how pleasant you felt when you looked at them or how proud it is to plant and water them as they grow and bloom. It's like all your worries being blown away by the soft wind. But he doesn't seem as interested in it, so you try to keep it to yourself.
Failed, you keep mentioning them, how you heard there was a talking tree and even a talking bird in the Summer Isles, how there were the most exotic roses anyone could find in the maze of Highgarden, how you wanted to see all of them in person or at least read more about them. It keeps going and you thought you had annoyed him until your name day arrive.
He brings you a book of plants, flowers and trees ranging from the most common to the rarest. It tells all about their origins, symbolism and their own unique story. It was heavy and thick, the cover was carved in the shape of flowers. “I have Maester Orwyle found this for you, one of the oldest books in the Citadel, it was not an easy process, sweet wife of mine.” You couldn't believe he could get this for you. “Though this would not be the only gift from me.” your husband's words confused you a bit until you saw the look he gave you. “Thank you, my Aemond.”
What a blessing it has been. Your marriage is fortunate to be full of love. Your husband did his duty as well as he cared deeply for you. You wore the jewelry he gave you, the silks imported from the furthest lands, the book in your hand for your name day. You were spoiled rotten and an idea crossed your mind.
He would've loved it, it would've been amazing. You keep thinking about it. This week, you've been distancing yourself from Aemond as you prepare the gift for him.
You requested a private supper with only your husband and you. He didn't question at first, but he was obviously eager to know why you suddenly wanted to have a private meal. When he arrives, you keep smiling at him, blushing at his words and it all ends when he rises. “Why a private supper?” You rise after him. “I just wanted a quiet time between us, that's all.” It is not a good lie and he doesn't seem convinced. “Tell me.” His tone is clear that whatever it is that you try to hide, you have to stop. “Fine.” you groaned and took his hand as you lead your husband to the gift.
“I am not sure if you would like it but I wanted to let you know that I love you too. And you did so well, trying to show it to me.” You said to him as you brought out the gift. He instantly knew what it was and, undeniably, he couldn't fight away the smile.
A Longsword made of Dragonglass, sharp and light. On the hilt was a gemstone of Sapphire, to match his left-eye. All was jet black but at the heart of the sword was brightened with blue stone. It was simple, perfectly made just for him and it meant everything.
“Do you like it?” He looked up to you. You look like an angel from this view. He nodded, finding it hard to express himself in words. You immediately hug him, “Be careful!” He shouted as the sword still lays on him. You didn't seem to care though, he simply accepted your warm embrace. What has he done to deserve you? To have someone beside him who cares this much. There are many moments in which he knew he had to protect you, but in this second, he vowed he would burn everything down if anyone dared to touch you and he would go across the known world just to see your smile. “Thank you, my love.”
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Casket of jewels on a table principally of German Origin - Pieter Gerritsz. van Roestraten
The Marquise de Pezay, and the Marquise de Rougé with Her Sons Alexis and Adrien - Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun
Pronk Still Life with Holbein Bowl, Nautilus Cup, Glass Goblet and Fruit Dish - Willem Kalf
Summary | May the Smith mends the bond that he broke far too long and forges you back to him with a longing promise ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | Fluff, Angst, Comfort, Messy Translation, Aemond rizzing reader up, Reader is a caretaker of a dragon and a relative of the Dragonkeeper but there are no physical description of her
Notes | The translation of English and High Valyrian is like a death trial. I pick up the grammar from Duolingo and mashed them up with website's translation.
The first time Aemond met you, he was merely a boy of three and ten. He didn't know what crossed his mind at that moment. Perhaps he just wanted to have his own dragon like his brothers and his nephews or maybe it was “The Pink Dread”. He walked down the tunnel of the pit as everything got darker and warmer. He would claim whichever dragon he encountered, but instead he came to face Dreamfyre. One second, he was falling to his knees thinking the stranger had come to take his life, but a moment later, a girl of his age dragged him out of the tunnel, saving his life.
“Bē morghūlis” He almost died. You were talking to a member of the Dragonkeepers. Aemond couldn't pick up exactly on what you said, he had yet to master High Valyrian, only knew the basic instructions and a few commands. To be fair, he didn't have a father to teach him and his mother barely embraced Targaryen customs. But he heard you call the older man “Kepus'', which means father's brother. Now, it makes sense why your High Valyrian is so fluent. You are a niece of the Dragonkeeper Elder. They exclusively spoke High Valyrian and served their loyalty only to the House of the Dragon. Aemond looked down at the floor. He knew he was in great trouble, until he felt your touch on each of his shoulders, “Dōro bartoso iksā” You are brainless. What did you just say to him? He assumed from your expressions, soft and understanding. Were you comforting him? Before he could ask you, he was guarded back to The Red Keep.
His mother was furious as she tried to comfort him. She promised she would seek justice from the King and that her son must never be a joke to poke at. That night, he cried himself to sleep with all the humiliation flowing through him. His mother insisted on him to never set foot on the Dragonpit again and that one day he would have his own dragon.
And he did. He gained himself a dragon, but at what cost? His left eye was slashed, yet he had to face the reality that it was an even exchange. It was not, he lost half of himself that night. The sight of him frightened girls and boys his age. His mother allowed him to visit Dragonpit later but only under the protection of Kingsguards. He saw you again when he went there with Helaena to claim a dragon. From the look on your face, you were rather fascinated than frightened. You ran up to him, started questioning him but he couldn't understand you. When you realize the barrier of a language between you two, you repeat the most obvious word “Eye, Eye, Eye”. Aemond took an offense from that “Shut up” He thought you were making fun of him, immediately left to stay in the carriage the whole time while Helaena finally claimed the she-dragon, Dreamfyre.
He would accompany his brother or his sister to the Dragonpit from time to time. While the first few impressions between him and you didn't come close to good at all, he would learn that you are actually quite fun to be around. He took High Valyrian lessons very strictly, memorizing as many terms of each word as much as possible. Your conversation started to go somewhere, he learnt to ask for your name in High Valyrian just as you learnt to ask for his in the common tongue. You are preparing to be a caretaker of the Dragons. It was a difficult process but you were chosen by your uncle due to how you manage to be gentle and understanding, especially with young dragons.
“Vhagar rōva issa” Vhagar is big. He opened his arms wide to let you see how big she is. “Bōsa se drāñe” Long and wide. He continued to describe her to you as you clapped in excitement. “Rōva Vhagar! Rōva Vhagar jorraēlan!” Big Vhagar! I love big Vhagar! You giggle together, his mother suggested him to find someone to talk to rather than hiding in his chamber. She knew he needed someone to listen. “We” you pointed to yourself then him, “Ride” taking his hands in yours “Together?” and tighten your hold on his. “Yes” A simple answer that brightens your whole face. “Hēnkirī Kipili?” We ride together? You pointed to yourself and him again, he nodded in agreement “Hēnkirī” Together.
While your friendship with the prince started to improve, he suddenly vanished out of your life after that day. He knew you were waiting for him every time the carriage arrived at the Dragonpit. The thing is, you appeared at the very vulnerable times of his life, the part he hated the most, the deep core of his weakness, he doesn't want to be weak anymore. Aemond believes that by cutting off any resemblance to his past, he would feel better as he turned into a person he never thought existed in him. He became a vengeful man full of rage and a thirst for blood. Abandoned the friendship you built together. But instead of you becoming a forgotten memory, you still wander in his mind sometimes, most of the time.
Dragonpit became one of his least favorite places after all the memories that taunted him, but at the same time, it's also the place he longed for the most. Although he didn't longed for a dragon anymore, he already claimed one and paid a great price for it. Instead, he longed for you. He has heard about you, how you become skillful at your position, taking care of each dragon in great detail. But he never order your attendance for Vhagar, he even forbidden from allowing you close to his dragon, despite knowing the obsession that you have with Big Vhagar. Aegon even talked of you, once, a pretty face wasted her years sunken in a pit.
At the darkest night, Aemond found himself thinking of you more and more. He imagined how your voice would've sound like, how tall you could've been, how fluent you would be in common tongue now. The grip that you have on him has never been loosened, if it ever did, it only seems to tighten more.
So he swallowed his pride as he stands here in the Dragonpit, at the same place but over half a decade different. Looking for you, many thoughts crossed his mind. Wondering if you have forgotten about him, unable to recognize your short-time companion anymore, or do you still remember him in great detail just as he did of you, angry at the sight of him and banishing him away. He wasn't sure if that was really you, a beauty standing with a bucket in each of your hands, a newly born dragon on your shoulder. You looked as if you're a Dragon goddess coming to life. “Sȳz Taoba, Morghul” Good boy, Morghul. You compliment the little dragon and he nods in pride as you feed him more fish, clapping at his wits.
When Aemond gets closer, you look up to him. He didn't know if it was surprise, displeasure or delight in your expression, a combination of all even. “Dārilaros” Prince. Your voice has matured and deepened through years, “Ruklītsos” Little Flower. A name he once heard your uncle called you. “Are you here to claim another dragon? Is one not enough for you?” the way your tone changed into bitterness blew away all his pride, but at the same time, he's quite impressed by your common tongue. “I am here to see my childhood companion” when he noticed the way your head tilted, he knew he better be careful with his next words. “I have not met her for so long, but she has grown into a lovely woman, a smart one too I've heard” you stand up with the little dragon in your hand. “A childhood companion you've neglected” A sly tone through your words to see if he can go anywhere from this. “I have not said it was you-”
“There's no any other childhood companion of yours other than me” If someone heard, they would've call you out to respect the prince. Before he could answer, you paced to the tunnel of the pit. He quickly followed you before he realized where he was heading to, until the darkness took over and suddenly he was three and ten, facing Dreamfyre again. Except this time, he was facing you. “Are you well? Aemond” you noticed the way he turned still “Aemond, sȳz iksā?” Aemond, are you well? Instead of answering you, he took a step back and left. He left you again.
It was a bad reunion after being apart for so long. You have changed and so did he. He shouldn't be a fool to think you could be friends again. That night, he thinks of all his life decisions. How stupid it is to end your friendship when everything goes well. He was a fool to treat you that way and to ignore you even when his sister told him that you have asked about him endlessly. Would it be possible for your friendship to heal its wound which he caused? “May the Smith mends the bond that has been broken far too long and forges us back as we have always meant to be together” That night he hopes to wake up with the strength of The Warrior to face you again.
As the sun rises in the east, he thinks of you as he eats, he imagines you as he reads and he finds himself on a journey to the Dragonpit again. There's a feeling enlightened inside of him, an affection he has not felt since he was a boy. A feeling of hope, excitement and wish that died when his eye was taken away.
The last interaction you two had before he completely disappeared from your life was one of the happiest he felt before he shut himself down from everyone. This was the moment he became merciless while you grew to be nurturing and forgiving. He waited until you walked out with loads of food in your hands. Dragons are rarely sick, but their need for food to survive is one of the most important things. They eat a lot and some of them do not hunt, especially the young ones. Your job was to make sure they ate well and remained at a balanced weight. “Skorkydoso iksā?” How are you? When he catches your attention, he gets closer. You step back, “Lenton jagon” Go home. It's no wonder you're mad at him, he is also mad at himself but he is trying to fix it. “Daor” No, he said firmly, opening his palm to reveal a gift he prepared for you. A golden ring shaped like a dragon's body, the head and the tail ended with a precious stone placed in the middle. “Daor” No, you make sure to say it the same way he did. “I will leave you alone but you must take this first” He tried to convince you but you didn't react in any motion so he continued “Vhagar wanted you to have this”. That seemed to convince you. You took the ring from his palm and took a closer look at all the details. “Fine” You said to him and he took your hand back, putting a ring on your finger. “Take this as a promise” He placed a kiss on your knuckles. Never in his life would he try to be this romantic, especially in public. Expecting to see a loving stare from you, instead you raised your eyebrows and took your hand from him. “Now, go home”.
He returned to Red Keep in a lighter mood. Is it possible to wed you? Would his mother give him her blessing? You have been living close to Dragonpit for so long with your uncle, he was a senior member and very trusted by his family. While your uncle swore his oath, you have yet to do the same.
Today, you didn't bring yourself to forgive him yet, he understood that it would take time but it needs to be quicker. He paced back and forth, thinking of how he could have your mercy. To give you what he has promised since that day.
He didn't bother you for a few days, keep it all to himself. His mother noticed the change in his behavior, how he wasn't “himself” from time to time. He finds thousands of reasons as his excuses, “I've changed” he once said to her and her expression was concerned.
As afternoon passed, he prepared to give you a surprise that would reunite the two of you after being apart for so long. He was dressed in leather, the weather would be colder, there might even be rain. Instead of taking a carriage like he used to. He took a horse instead and headed to where he had always found you. You were putting on a cloak, preparing to go somewhere else. “Vhagar is sick, she needs your help” His heart beaten, it's really happening. “Big Vhagar is sick?” You still remember, calling his dragon Big Vhagar as a reminder as if it's not the most noticeable trait. “Yes, she needs your help” his voice was heavy and you immediately fell for it. He seated you in front of him as he took you to Vhagar's lair. It was far outside the city to prevent any damage possible. Your back against his chest, you two were so close yet there's still a gap that killed him slowly.
When you arrived, you were amazed by the size of Vhagar. She really is big. You instantly take a look around Vhagar to see if there were any injuries, but there was nothing. “Liar” You called Aemond. “I could take your tongue for that, girl” Did he just threaten you? No, he meant to jest, he hoped you understood his intention. “I fear no knives” Your tone was ignited in flame, he had thought before that if you were a Targaryen, you would be unstoppable. There's already too much fire flowing in your blood.
“Are you meant to hurt me? Fooling me here to kill me?” He doesn't understand why you would think of that. “Never, I wanted us alone together, that's all” he noticed the ring on your finger, “You wear my ring” taking ahold of your hand. “Why wouldn't I?” Aemond didn't take his gaze from you. “Why did you leave me? after that night, why?” your voice weaken, “I waited moons and years! you just stopped and never returned to me” he can hear the sadness through your voice and see the tears on your pretty face. “I was protecting you” his excuse annoyed you even more. You came close to him and gripped his arms, “From what?” Your face and his were close, “From me” But instead of getting any closer, you push him away. “Then why did you come back? to hurt me?” He cornered after you into the cave. It was dark and warm. “To do as I promised you” In the darkness, you can feel his face close to yours. “A Promise?” you whisper, “Don't you remember?” He holds your face in his hands “Hēnkirī Kipili” We ride together.
Aemond holds your body as the two of you mount atop of Vhagar. The sun was about to set with the sky brightening in red, white and blue. With Aemond's command, Vhagar rises from the sandy beach. You screamed from the thrill through your body. As the sky got closer and closer, you clutched his hand hard and looked at him. Is this the moment when it happened? While he was composed on whether he should do it or not, you kissed him straight away. It was a release after years of resistance and avoidance. High up here in the sky, no one can see or judge him and you. He felt like himself again, but not like he was beaten to weakness anymore. With you, everything was at peace, he would shield you from the ruthless world and fly across the known world to give you everything.
When Vhagar landed, you were in delightful. Stroking the rough skin of the she-dragon. “Kirimvose, rōva Vhagar” Thank you, big Vhagar. Turning to Aemond, “I have not fully forgiven you” You seat yourself on horseback, return to the city with your childhood friend and likely, your lover.
Summary | You always have a way of getting what you want and if you want to marry the prince, you will ๋࣭ ⭑
Inspired by “Mastermind - Taylor Swift”
Warnings & Suggestions | Fluff, very low-key Soft Dark Reader, Reader being a literal mastermind, No Physical Description of Reader
Red Keep is a place full of power-hungry men and determined women. To survive in a place like this, you need to outsmart the fools, yet you can't outdo the wise, you can't be too bright or too dull either. Everyone has their parts to play as each other's pawn. You do too, but the difference is you knew your pawn and the game you play.
Your parents have told you before that your purpose here is to marry a man from a noble house, gain an alliance and live a life raising heirs. But those words didn't please your ears, you won't wait for them to sell you off to a drunkard who would father dozens of bastards. For the least, you would like to wed someone you want and you knew you have a choice the night you saw him for the first time, you knew he was meant to be yours and nothing was gonna stop you.
A Targaryen man from the blood of the dragon, the son of the King, the prince of the realm. The Targaryens often marry within their own family, although his mother is a Hightower. His brother and sister were already married with a set of twin. While he is still a man free of betrothal, soon enough, his queen mother and grandfather would find him a match, a match that would only end with you and him.
After countless nights, you have come up with a plan. You begin with weeks of observing him and caught up to his routine. He wakes up early, practices swordplay every morning and noon. In the evening, he can be found in the library reading a book about the olden days or morals of life. Often times, you saw him on Vhagar as they flew around, breathing dragonfire. You looked up to the wide sky and the mighty beast. Sooner or later, you will be mounting that dragon. On a day where he was not seen in a training yard, he would accompanied his queen mother and sister, those who he seems to be close with the most. After writing down all this information, you try to figure out all about him and every possibility. Now, you know what you must do to ensure a seat beside him.
You started with appearing everywhere he was. He visited the Sept? You were also there praying to the maiden. He read in the library? You were already there, picking one of his favorite book. He goes to spend time with his sister? There you are linked in arms with Helaena as you two walk through the garden. And to lit the fuse, your hand suddenly brushed his as you walked pass him every single time, as if it's all accidental, you didn't even pay a mind to look back, only walk away. After multiple times, brief glances started to exchange, polite smiles spread across your face when you catch his gaze, yet no conversation was ever occurred, not until-
“My Lady.” he called out. Finally, you think to yourself with a sly smile before turning to him with a naively confused face. “My Prince.” You stood calm and flashed him a smile. All the groundwork you have laid leads you here, to this moment, just as you have planned.
Ever since then, you two have been seen together more than often. A walk through the garden side by side, a match of cyvasse in the library that somehow ends with your victory, and a quiet evening as you two paced on a beach. “I am thankful that the gods have brought us together, My Lady.” He said. You're welcome. “Same as I, my prince, fate is truly a mysterious work of art.” You smirk before switching back to a naive one. You cannot be too obvious. He can't know but only if he did. Fate really is a powerful thing, but it is useless without the work of one or another. You wouldn't be standing here with him if all you did was pray and hope for the best. You have to plan and take actions. With that, you get closer to him inch by inch every day. It takes time and you are more than welcome to provide. He grew to trust you, softened only for you, and a bond of a lifetime was formed.
“With this kiss I pledge my love.”
Now, the two of you are holding each other's arms at a grand wedding decorated in shade of white and silver, flowers and silks laid down to perfection, standing in front of the Septon as you exchange your vows to your other half in front of your gods and your kins.
“And I, take you for my lord and husband."
The Septon pronounces you as one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. A husband and a wife, a long lifetime of love and devotion.
"And I, take you for my lady and wife."
After the wedding, you couldn't help but feel a little guilty. You have always been this way since your childhood. You like having a little fun with your head and finding ways to get what you want while also being entertained in a way. You like to be loved but don't like to show others of how much you've done to get them. So is it wrong to trick him into loving you? You were not quite sure. To be fair, you didn't force him! You just set everything up from meeting him, talking to him and then it just presents its way, right? You didn't poison or bewitch him into loving you, didn't even harm anyone through your plan of becoming his wife, so why is it that you feel responsible for it all? You think about it for a while and decide that it must be said.
On a peaceful night when you and your husband lay on your shared bed. You confessed your “little schemes” to him, expecting a confusing reaction or shocking response, but instead, he simply smirks, the very same way you did when he first talked to you, “I knew.” Oh, “You knew!? You never- You never showed me that you did!”. After all these times, he has always knew. A wide smile spread across your face, he knew and he let you do it all. Why wouldn't he? It led him to you and now he's yours.
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images' credits ๋࣭ ⭑
Catching Butterflies - Emile Eisman Semenowsky
Astrology Signs Mosaic - Museum of Islamic Civilization, UAE
Summary | You are a new court singer performing the first time at the royal feast, everything seems fine except the strained look on the prince's face ๋࣭ ⭑
Warnings & Suggestions | Aegon II, Physical Harassment, Fluff, Angst, No Physical Description of Reader, Reader being anxious, Very Cheesyyyyyyy
For all your life, you have always been fascinated with songs and poetry. All the love stories and sweet melodies filled your head with hopeless fantasy. That's how it brings you here, singing at the feast for the prince of the realm, Prince Aemond of House Targaryen.
You have heard a stories of him claiming the largest dragon then lost his left eye as an exchange, you even wrote a song about him. From where you stand, he is close to what you have imagined, with the blood of the dragon and their notable looks, he bears the same silver hair and lilac eye.
♫
Everyone at the feast are enjoying themselves, lords and ladies are dancing around to the sound of your voice and the tune of the band. You couldn't help but notice the prince, it is his name day so why is he sitting there, all stern and bored? Is it because of your voice? Are you not singing well? Perhaps these types of songs are not his taste?
You look at your bandmate and he gives you an encouraging look. This is your first time performing in front of the court, you are anxious and just wished to do your best to entertain them all. You returned to look at the main table again and see the prince looking directly at you. Nervous, you quickly avoid his gaze and return to the nobles who are having the times of their lives.
“What if he hates the sound of my voice?”
Once the feast ended, you returned to your chamber, all exhausted, and think of how today has done you well, except for the prince. He is a complex man but you couldn't help and worried that you did not do your part well enough, it is his name day and all you wished is to bring him joy despite the fact that you never knew him personally. After cleaning yourself and changing to your nightwear. You laid on your bed and thought of what caused him to act that way on such joyous event.
“What if he hates the way I worded my lyrics?”
“What if I got replaced before I even get a chance to sing at my second performance?”
♫
The next day, a handmaiden of Princess Helaena informed you that she wanted to have you occupied her times at noon. You dressed yourself in a simple gown of blue and silver, the royal house was kind enough to present you with proper gowns for occasions, many of them are fine silks with detailed embroidery.
When you arrive at the chamber, the princess noticed you and quickly told you to sit on a chair next to her, “My princess, what would you like to hear?” you asked her, she looked up to you with kind eyes and smiled “Anything really, I enjoyed your voice at the feast, it's really lovely.” Her sweet words make you feel relieved, you sit next to her as you start playing and singing about the conquest. You thought that maybe she wanted to hear about her house's stories and the conquest has always been one of your favorite choice to sing.
From time to time, she would ask you about your life like where you came from, how did you started singing and you started to relax until the chamber's door opened and you saw him. You turn to sit straight and look down at your lute, how can he intimidated you so well? you think to yourself, Aemond walked in and sat himself opposite of his sister.
“How have you been?" Helaena asked him, you stopped playing to let the conversation flows freely while you listened quietly. “Good, and you, sister?” you like the sound of his voice, wondering what he would sound like when he sings. “Good as well, you remember the singer from the feast last night? Her voice is very beautiful, don't you think?” she looked at you and turned to look at him. He simply hummed, nothing more, he is stressing you out again, you go back to playing and singing while he simply sits there the whole time.
When you returned to your chamber, you let out a huge sigh, it was awkward and you haven't settled well for life at court. How you missed the life as a wandering singer, traveling through towns to towns, every day and night are stories of endless journey. It's good for a time but it's just as dangerous as it could be. Men do not know boundaries when it comes to entertainers so when the gold cloaks came to you and took you to Red Keep, you were quite uneasy.
You met the Hand who was in charge of the small council, future of the realm and all of those parts including an upcoming celebration of the King's second son. You were known for your talents, not only did you sing, you also played instruments like your favorites, lute and harp. Your name was praised through streets of King's Landing, though you mostly performed at Flea Bottom, many won't expect to find you there since it's a dangerous place filled with crimes, foul men and rats.
The Hand told you that being a court singer came with its benefits, a safe place to sleep, foods to eat, gifts if you did your duty well, all the goods and comforts, after hearing those offerings, you agreed.
Now, you look out through the window to the view of the city. If you wanted to taste freedom again even for a night, who could stop you? Without a second thought, you put on a cloak and find your way to Flea Bottom. The hours are getting late once you arrived and the fun has just begun. Walking down the street, many recognized you, the women of the brothel especially, smiled as they called out your name.
You walked into a local winesink where your fellow singer had sung at, and took a seat as you enjoyed the show alone until a man sat next to you and ruined all the fun with his grip on your arm. You ignored him but once you felt his hand, you tried to push him away until you laid your eyes on him, instantly recognized those silvery hair and purple gaze. This must be Prince Aegon, you have heard about him through the women at the brothels. He is clearly drunk and might be mistaken you for a whore, mumbling words out but you couldn't understand a thing. “Get off of me!” you told him, it is wrong to spoke that way to a prince but he was clearly drunk and didn't seem to mind, he gripped you even tighter and took you to sit on his lap. You struggle to break free from his force until someone takes him from you. A man, wearing a cloak, except that he is older with dark hair and dark eyes, calling for his prince as he tried to keep everything calm as much as possible, Prince Aegon continued his mumbling. Another man followed and you instantly recognized this one, Prince Aemond. They came to rescue Prince Aegon back, you think. Aemond saw you and he said something to another man before giving each other a nod as that man returned with Prince Aegon.
Aemond stood still and look at you while you try to look anywhere but him, he came closer and took your arm, “What are you doing here?” He sounds furious but why? “I simply wanted to enjoy a peaceful night, my prince" you answered him and look down to the floor, it seems to make him sound even more furious. “Peaceful night with a bunch of drunkards, have you gone mad? " his words offended you and you chose to walked away from him, he instantly followed you, you still don't understand why. You have always been smart enough to know what people wanted but not with him. He always managed to get you all confused and nervous, you can't take it no more. He called out your name and took your hand, the two of you entered a narrow alley, “You listen to your prince and return back now” how can he suddenly talks to you and orders you around now, he might be a prince but that's not enough to stop you. “I have enough!” you shouted at him, guilt follows you right after but it couldn't stop you now, “Why are you doing this to me? I don't understand. Last night you wouldn't even danced or enjoyed any second of my voice, you made me doubt myself!” tears forming through eyes and instead he just chuckled. “You really are a stupid girl.” he took your hand and led you back to Red Keep.
He escorted you back to your chamber and made sure you didn't leave again. When he returned to his chamber. He couldn't help but grin a little, “I just wish to see you happy” he replayed those words to himself. How thoughtful of you, never knowing of his cruelty. While the other ladies frightened at the sight of him. You only chose to come closer, begging to know more. Would it be possible for a prince to marry a lovely court singer like you? He wished to, as much as he hates to admit it but he is quite smitten by you. That was the very first night that he slept well to the sounds of your voice in his head. How he loved to hear more, he wondered if you could write a song for him and you. A song where boys and girls would blush at, a song which men and women would dance to at their wedding, a song that would pass down through centuries, and especially a song to numb away his bitter pain with your honeyed-voice, his little songbird.
It was a long walk of silence but he never lets go of your hand, you don't want him to either. But the confusion has already overwhelmed you so you just stopped walking, he turned to look at you, “What do you not like about me?” your voice is shaken. “Just tell me, please, is it my voice? or my songs?” You keep questioning him. He looks annoyed now, “No” short and plain. “Then what is it? Why are you so cold? so hard to understand?” you are on the verge of tears again, gods, how you hated when this happened. “Nothing, keep walking” his voice is still as though he didn't feel a thing. “No! there's something, it was your name day and you don't seem content”. He sighed again “And why is that? Who are you to care whether I am content or not on my name day?”. You are not sure what to say because he was right, you are not close to him, not even his family so why do you care so much. “I just wish to see you happy” that's all you said. His face softened, his hand still wrapped around yours, nothing was said after.
Author's Note | This is my first writing ever, I was quite nervous to post this since English is not my first language but feel free to recommend or suggest anything <3
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images' credits ๋࣭ ⭑
Madame Élisabeth spielt die Harfe - Charles Emmanuel Joseph Leclercq
