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a new addition in the family

Aerion Targaryen x Fossoway!Reader

I recommend reading this fic first <3

Omg, I didn't expect to write more than 2000 words.

I really hope you enjoy it, guys, because I had a great time writing this

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Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I wish you all a good read!

“Pregnant?” You could hear the surprise and disgust in both your voice and Aerion’s.

Almost two moons after your wedding, you and Aerion were supposed to depart for Lys—though neither of you wanted to, but King Daeron and Prince Maekar seemed to think it best for Aerion to be away for a while. You don't know this, but Aerion had only agreed to leave if he married you first—but days before you and Aerion were due to go to the port, you started feeling unwell.

You felt nauseous for much of the day, your head and chest ached, and you tired very easily. At first, you weren’t worried; in fact, you used your discomfort to stay in your chambers and avoid the royal family, thinking they were simply the symptoms of your moon blood coming soon.

But then you began to vomit, and you summoned the maester. A servant informed Aerion of this, and he, being the busybody he is, came to see what the maester would say.

The maester looks at you and Aerion as if you were foolish children.

“Yes, your Grace. You are expecting a child,” he says patiently. “It would be best if your wife did not travel in her condition. And you, my lady, if you are very nauseous, should drink this tea,” the maester says, pouring the hot water, which a servant had brought him, into the cup with the tea leaves. “If you will excuse me, I will inform the king.”

On another occasion, you might have been annoyed that the maester dared to announce your pregnancy for you. You should have done it yourself; it was your damn body. But you didn't complain when Aerion nodded, granting the maester permission to leave, because you weren't in any condition to have a conversation with the royal family, let alone pretend you were delighted with the news.

"Oh, and congratulations," the maester said, giving you one last look before leaving.

The moment you heard the door close, you slapped Aerion's arm, without even trying to contain your force. He had been standing beside you while you sat on the bed.

"You fucking idiot! I told you to come outside!" you said, glaring at him.

It didn't matter that you'd enjoyed yourself at that moment—because, yes, much to your dismay, you liked sharing the bed with Aerion; in fact, it seemed to be the only time you could tolerate him. In your opinion, it was better that he kept his mouth busy on your cunt instead of talking nonsense—it was his fault. If he had listened to you, you wouldn't be pregnant now.

Aerion frowned. "You're my wife. Where else am I supposed to come if not inside you?" he said indignantly at the idea.

"Anywhere else on my body!" you said exasperatedly, crossing your arms.

Gods, you could already imagine your cousins' reactions when you wrote to them about your pregnancy. Steffon would scold you for bringing another mad Targaryen into the kingdom.

Aerion rolled his eyes and sat down next to you.

"Well, at least now we won't have to go to Lys."

You thought the royal family would be happy about the news of a new addition, but they didn't seem to be. You could see the fake smiles on the queen and king's faces, and you heard Prince Valarr mutter his congratulations through gritted teeth. And as if the tension at the table wasn't enough, Aerion had to open his big mouth.

"Who would have thought, Grandfather? That I'd be the first to give you a great-grandchild?" he said proudly. Which was ironic, considering that just a few hours earlier, he'd been just as disgusted as you were about the news of becoming a father.

You watched in surprise as Kiera of Tyrosh rose swiftly from the table and left the dining room. You were certain you saw tears in her eyes. Prince Valarr abruptly dropped his silverware and followed his wife.

"Fucking idiot," Maekar said, glaring at his son. It was strange to see him with that expression. Since Prince Baelor's funeral, you only ever saw him looking sad or expressionless, lost in his thoughts.

"What happened?" you asked, feeling like you were missing something.

"Kiera lost two babies," Aegon said when he saw that none of the adults seemed willing to answer you.

The whole table saw how you transformed in an instant. You turned furiously to face Aerion, who was sitting next to you, and stood up.

"Apologize," you said angrily, tugging at his ear, waiting for him to get up. But when you saw he was only trying to get you to let go, you pulled harder, even digging your nails in. Everyone could see the prince's ear turning red.

"Damn it!" he said, reluctantly getting to his feet, and you finally let go.

You didn't notice Aegon watching in admiration as you pushed Aerion toward the exit, him still cursing, until you were finally out of there.

The dining hall fell silent, still surprised that you, along with Maekar, seemed to be the only ones in charge of Aerion.

“I like my new sister,” Daeron said, laughing drunkenly, breaking the silence.

In the end, you and Aerion didn't go to Lys, but you didn't stay in King's Landing either. After that dinner and Aerion's insensitive comment, you didn't want to stay there, feeling guilty for having something you didn't want but that Kiera of Tyrosh desired.

So you and Aerion went to Summerhall with his father and Daeron. Meanwhile, Egg went to become a squire to Duncan the Tall.

Aerion may not have been happy about your pregnancy at first. He knew it was going to happen eventually, but he never thought it would be so soon. He had wished to have you all to himself for a while longer, just the two of you, before adding a child.

But now, a few months later, he was starting to like it. He'd heard plenty of men complain about their wives' mood swings, but Aerion loved them.

Of course, he didn't like it when you yelled at him, but he loved it when you cried over silly things and let him comfort you. You no longer ran away or hit him when he hugged you like you did in the early days of your marriage.

Did your dresses no longer fit? He personally sent the seamstresses to make you new ones with the prettiest fabrics. Did you crave cake? No matter the time, he'd make the cooks bake one for you.

You, too, began to accept the idea of pregnancy, not because everyone seemed to want to pamper you in your condition, but because everything changed for you the moment you felt the baby kick for the first time. It happened while you were humming a song as you tried to make a blanket for them. The first few times you didn't tell anyone, you kept it to yourself; feeling the baby move lifted your spirits, and you felt less alone surrounded by these Targaryens. You stopped thinking of the baby as just another freak Targaryen, but as something of your own.

One day, you were listening to Aerion talking nonsense when you felt the baby start to move.

“I can feel them moving,” you interrupted, just to shut him up. You took Aerion's hand and placed it on your belly, then you let go.

You looked at him expectantly; you’d never admit it out loud, but you were curious about his reaction. Aerion stared at your belly in silence for a minute.

“I don’t feel anything,” he said, surprising you. “Why are you lying?” he said, making you take a few steps back, no longer letting him touch you.

“Why the hell would I be lying to you?” you asked, frowning, feeling offended.

“Because you want my attention,” the prince replied, smiling smugly, and you had to restrain yourself from hitting him.

You ended up calling the maester, and in the end, you were the one smiling smugly when the maester said it was normal for only you to feel the baby's movements for a while. Aerion didn't apologize, but after that, you noticed how he seemed to be constantly touching your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick.

And he didn't have to tell you when he felt it because you saw it on his face, in that warm smile you'd never seen before.

One day, you and Aerion were walking through the halls of Summerhall when you overheard some idiot talking about your appearance, about how you seemed to have gained too much weight. You saw it instantly: Aerion drew his dagger and looked ready to strike the man. The last thing you wanted was for Aerion to commit murder in the middle of the corridor. The man was an idiot, but he didn't have to die, and you didn't want Aerion to cause trouble for his family again. Perhaps you wouldn't have cared before if people thought ill of the Targaryens—you do it yourself—but now your child would be a Targaryen, and you didn't want people to resent your baby just for having Aerion as a father. So you grabbed Aerion by the back of his doublet.

"No," you said, trying to pull him back. You must have looked like one of those owners trying to control their hunting dogs.

The idiot who'd made the comment took advantage of that moment to step back, moving away from the razor's edge.

Aerion was still moving forward, trying to reach the man.

"Aerion," you called firmly. Aerion glanced at you and noticed how you seemed to be wobbly a little—since your belly had grown quite a bit, he noticed that you were now a little clumsy—and he stopped moving. The only reason he did that was because he didn't want you to lose your balance because of him, to end up hurting yourself.

“Apologize,” the prince ordered, pointing the tip of his dagger at him.

The man didn't resist; he instantly fell to his knees and began to beg your forgiveness.

“Pathetic,” you said, barely glancing at the man, and turned to continue on your way. Aerion followed you, more charmed by you than ever.

The next day, you learned that the man had been expelled from Summerhall.

Aerion never thought you were a very religious person, so he was surprised that during your last weeks of pregnancy, you went every day to the sept in Summerhall. He, of course, always accompanied you. Perhaps if it were another man, you would have found it sweet that he followed you everywhere just to make sure you and the baby were alright. But since it was Aerion, you found it unbearable at times. When you complained to your mother, she replied to your letter, telling you that you should be grateful to have such a devout husband. Your cousin Raymun recommended that you put a pinch of sweetsleep in the prince's cup so that he would at least leave you alone for one day. You laughed when you read his letter, but then you burned it for fear that Aerion would find it and accuse your cousin of treason.

“What are you praying about so much?” Aerion asks as he helps you to your feet again, just like he does every day after you finish praying.

“I pray that they don’t turn out like you,” you say sincerely, without taking your eyes off him.

Aerion laughs, thinking you’re joking. It’s not the first time he’s thought one of your comments is a joke or a strange way of flirting. You don’t bother correcting him; you’re used to it, and the truth is, you’ve felt uncomfortable and sore since morning. You hoped that after a nap, it would pass. Maybe you’d start listening to the master and stop kneeling to pray, maybe you’d stay in bed like he so desperately wanted.

You and Aerion hadn't even reached the halfway point to their chambers when your water broke. You probably would have panicked if you hadn't seen Aerion's face. You'd never seen him so pale and frightened. To his disbelief, you started laughing.

When he finally reacts, he takes you in his arms and shouts to the servants to find the maester immediately. All this while you keep laughing.

A daughter.

You have a beautiful little girl with five fingers on each hand and foot, with your hair, her father's eyes, and his nose.

And having a girl instead of a boy somehow brings you relief. You weren't worried about which side the coin landed on; you just knew. Your daughter wouldn't end up on the mad side.

“How should we name her?” Aerion asked, sitting on the other side of your bed, looking at you both intently. He had never seen you with such a gentle expression as the one you wore when looking at his daughter. He, too, longed to hold her in his arms again, but he would leave you for a few more minutes. “I want it to be something Valyrian,” he said, making you huff, and in retaliation, he gently tapped your forehead with his finger.

Maekar, who had come to meet his first granddaughter, looked at the three of you. Aerion was still the same spoiled boy, but with you, he showed a softer side he hadn't seen before. Perhaps it hadn't been such a terrible idea to grant Aerion's request to marry you. Perhaps you and your daughter could help make his son even a little better.

"Then it will be Helaena," you said simply. For once, you didn't want to argue, so you would accept a Valyrian name. And the only one you might think of right now that sounded like something common was Helaena.

Aerion frowned instantly. “I’m not going to name my daughter after a woman who killed herself,” he said firmly. Names mattered. What if that name sealed his daughter’s fate?

“What about Rhaenys?” he suggested, much to your disgust. You didn’t want to name her after one of the conquerors who came to usurp the kingdoms.

“Are you stupid? They both ended up dead, murdered,” you said, glaring at your husband.

After moons, Maekar knew the dynamic between the two of you quite well and knew that if he didn't intervene, the argument would never end.

"What do you think of Baela?" he said, drawing both of your attention. He didn't say it aloud, but all three of you knew why he chose that name, which was a kind of tribute to his brother.

Your eyes met Aerion's. And this was one of the rare occasions when you weren't looking at him with annoyance or exasperation, but rather your gaze seemed to speak volumes.

"So, Baela Targaryen is," you said a minute later, looking at your daughter. Although the name didn't sound common, it felt right. "Come, meet your granddaughter, ser," you said, looking at your father-in-law.

Aerion was about to complain, to say that he wanted to hold his baby again. But the words died in his mouth the moment he saw that his father's eyes weren't filled with sadness for the first time in moons. He saw the warmth and pride in Maekar's eyes as he held Baela in his arms.

It's okay, Aerion could let his father hold her for a few minutes. He had the rest of his life to hold Baela.

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