MochaMilk

[helvarcult]

[eltellsall]

I just have to say that the way baela and rhaena have been treated in the show and especially in season three is disgusting and so blatantly racist. I love that the show made house velaryon black but by doing that they had a responsibility to treat these characters just as they would be treated were they white and the showrunners have neglected this. I love these girls in the show but the writers are so clearly trying to villainize them. this rhaena claiming sheepstealer plot has been racist on so many levels; first of all they erased the dragonseed nettles who is canonically a black woman just so that rhaena could replace her and they subsequently made her the cause of jace’s death. I do like that rhaena has a dragon now but she also has a dragon in the book (morning) and she is the last targaryen to hatch a dragon until daenerys. I understand that making the battle of the gullet the same as it was in the book was not really an option to adapt to the show given the age of young aegon and viserys. I actually like that jace dies protecting baela and rhaena but it was completely unnecessary for sheepstealer to cause it. I don’t even think it was rhaena’s fault because we can obviously see that she had good intentions and did not want sheepstealer to pursue jace and baela but it is becoming pretty clear that rhaena will be blamed. even though it has already been established that sheepstealer is a wild dragon and has never been tamed. the scene with rhaenyra grabbing baela’s face in one of the promos also shows that rhaenyra will possibly be blaming both baela and rhaena for jace’s death. their mother laena was also a huge character in fire and blood but only had a few scenes and was totally glazed over in the show. almost all of the white women on this show have been treated better than laena, baela, and rhaena. do better ryan condal

[owlysrivers]

we never even got a kiss…

[an-abyss-of-stars]

𖤓 Don't You Dare Do This Without Me 𖤓

Pairing: Rhaena x Aemond

Warnings: Smutty hints...mainly consensual

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Rhaena THOUGHT she was merely dismissing her husband's call for affection after an argument. Little did she know, her rebuffing had instead sent her petulant husband off on a tirade to burn an enitre village to ash.

.

Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ao3

Note: (THIS fic is intended to be a little mini-series. It's a piece of a plot I've been toying around with for a month or two. A Dark King Aemond story with Queen Rhaena grappling with her horrid situation. I do have an entire long form story/idea for this premise, that would start immediately after the war and span over several years. It would be much darker than this smutty snippet, like practically 'dead dove' really! But this little fun fic here entered my brain and I just figured I'd throw it out here as a mini 5-6 part thingy.)

So hopefully it's an enjoyable little something something!!

——

"I can't believe him, I can't fuc-" Rhaena's anger induced muttering died upon her tongue as she stepped into her shared royal chambers, her feet halting almost immediately as her legs stiffly stood right in front her three-year-old son. Little Aemon had run up to her as soon as the doors flew open, rushing to hug her skirts as he stared up at her expectantly.

What was he doing here? 

It was early, still the middle of the afternoon, she was certain that by all accounts her toddler should only be nearing the end of lessons now. Not dawdling around in her chambers to play-

"Darling! Sweetling, you are early," Rhaena schooled her previously set scowl into a bright affectionate smile, lilting her voice as her eyes took in the visage of her charming little boy. It was beginning to feel like such an effort, schooling her emotions from her son these days, seeing as he seemed to be so perceptive already. Any slight twinge upon her face, and his sweet little face would scrunch into a look of instant concern for his mother's wellbeing. Followed by the little hand he'd place upon her leg before he asked 'are you well, mama?'. 

It was a wonder where he'd managed to inherit such sweetness, surely not from his father. 

With a gentle sigh, Rhaena began to crouch herself down to Aemon's level, careful to keep her balance as her swollen belly carried a true weight to it now. Her back felt it, her thighs and her knees worked to compensate for it. Offset the weight she'd put on for the health of this third babe. Though she was eight moons along, so she was nearly to term. It was a motion she navigated with skill now, for she knew her body well and so she knew her limits when it came to this stage of her pregnancies. Soon enough she'd seat herself down or lay abed for an hour or two before the ache creeping along her calves worked down to her swollen feet. 

In the meantime, however, she placed a soft hand upon her eldest son's check and smiled warmly at him. Eliciting an equally dazzling giggle from her little boy, the adorable sound almost immediately soothed her heart. Allowing her to push aside the stresses of the day, the endless aggravation only her husband could muster within her, just long enough to focus in on her child. Meeting his gaze, she sought to pry just a tad, "what of your lessons in the library, sweet one? Have they truly concluded or have you managed to escape from your maester yet again?" 

At that, Aemon teetered on his toes for a moment. His hand absentmindedly holding onto Rhaena's shoulder for balance as he happily gurgled at the playful accusation. Gently biting his thumb with his free hand, a near bashful blush spread upon the apples of his cheeks as his attention was just as quickly drawn away. Distracted already, the mop of curly platinum blonde hair that reached the nape of his neck swished with the motion he'd made. His pale cinnamon brown skin glowing in the rays of the afternoon sun. 

Ah, dear...she did love her son dearly, but his mind did tend to wander off all too easily at times. If he was not obsessively focused on something of his interest, his mind was liable to dawdle. It was Rhaena who had to work to lure his attention back to her, nudging his chubby cheek with the caress of her thumb. Adding an accompanying prodding hum for him to both listen and follow the sound. 

Thankfully it was enough, her toddler was quick to turn back to her. His distraction, the glittering rays of beaming sunlight, had poured in through the paneled windows of the room. Illuminating everything within sight of the spacious solar, the various deep crimson red furniture, the large round oak table that was just off center. It was still covered with stacked books and rolled scrolls that Aemond had left out to continue analyzing later in the day. Toys still remained scattered by the fire upon the maroon fur carpet, Rhaena supposed Aemon had been sat there waiting for her return. Most likely playing there with his young wet-nurse, Elaya. 

The nineteen-year old maid from the Riverlands was currently sat by the fire in one of the cozier armchairs, rocking Rhaena's second born son, Daemion, in her arms. Now, Daemion shared many features with his elder brother, the same almond eye-shape and rounded bow-shaped lips…both a blend of their parentage. They held the same curly hair texture, although, Daemion’s little tuft of curls shone more silver than Aemon’s blonde in the sunlight. And Aemon’s skin was slightly paler than Daemion’s. His eyes were a shade of bright lilac as opposed to Aemon’s pale indigo. Daemion’s little button nose reminded Rhaena more of her own than Aemond’s, although the point at the end of it still spoke of the boy’s inheritance from his father. 

In either case, little Daemion’s eyes were levelled low as he relaxed in the arms of his wet-nurse. It was to be expected, Rhaena had only nursed the babe but an hour ago, so it was more than likely that her one-year old was simply feeling the drowsy calls of his milk-filled stomach. She'd left her younger son in the safe arms of her trusted wet-nurse perhaps a half hour ago when she'd initially left her chambers to visit her twin sister, Baela. 

In the case of her eldest, however, Rhaena knew well that the bright afternoon sun was an enticing thing to a young Targaryen. It promised games in the garden, playful training in the training yard...but most of all, it promised the possibility for dragon riding. Aemon was newly minted in the activity, having gone for his first flight with his father just a few days ago. It was all he would talk of, on and on he happily talked the ears off of anyone who'd listen. From Maesters to maids, to his aunt, Baela, to his uncle Aegon, and especially to his equally young cousins Maegelle and Laena. The two daughters Baela had birthed for her husband under Aemond's reign as King. All of a part of rebuilding their family's line, restoring the Targaryen bloodline. 

A bloodline Aemond more than single handedly destroyed himself...but Rhaena had gone down that road before. It never led anywhere, it never returned what she'd lost. 

It was easier to focus on what she did have. The title of Queen may have been thrusted upon her, as well as her first born son...but she'd found her stride. Settled herself into motherhood, her new station, her new title, her seat next to the throne. She'd even willingly taken to her main duty as Queen, found her own pleasure in conceiving her second and soon to be third child. She'd found her way to loving and at times controlling the psychopathic irate dragon she'd been made to call 'husband'. 

Besides, he had his moments, she supposed, he was always good to their sons and their nieces. He quite frankly adored all of the young children they’d brought into the world for House Targaryen. He was prideful over their very existence, especially that of their own two sons. He spent every moment in their presence showing them love and acceptance. Their young princes were dotted on ever since their births, they wanted for nothing. They were always made to feel wanted. A sense of innate yet nurturing compensation on Aemond's part, Rhaena was sure. He went wordlessly about it, but she could surmise that he wished to give his sons everything he did not have in his youth. 

Everything his own father failed to deliver. 

As seen by the flight he'd taken Aemon on, their little boy had loved flying upon Vhagar so much. The experience improved greatly by the fact that Aemond had eagerly taken the time to indulge their son of his own accord. Vhagar was the most magnificent dragon to her young son, his favourite of all that he'd seen in his little life. 

And that was why he'd loved that day more than any other. 

Though it was unfortunate, Rhaena always thought. 

For while she agreed, Vhagar was a magnificent dragon, a relic of times long gone...a living piece of history. But she couldn't help but think that her young Aemon had missed a truly glorious age of dragons, he'd never be able to meet his true Targaryen grandparents or two of his other aunts…the rest of his uncles. He'd never be able to see any of their dragons...Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Meleys...so many lost. So many gone...and sometimes four years seemed just long enough to put the darkness behind her, to call it all history so that she might distance herself from the pain of it all.

But other times, it was just too blatant...just too obvious. 

So many members of her family were missing from this current family portrait. The chasms were there, Rhaena’s current life would always lack because of their absence. The vacant holes they'd made upon her person, upon her heart, forever cutting slivers away from her there. No amount of new Targaryen babes could replace them. 

They were all dead and gone...and she was made Queen of the rubble in the aftermath, wed to a kinslayer...the second usurper King. 

What a fate. 

And her little son knew none of it truly. 

"No, mama! I finished, my lessons are all done! Maestwer...um...maestwer Alfa...Alfadwer-" Aemon blurted out his little rambled response, finally recalling that he'd been asked a question nearly ten minutes prior. He'd taken so long, Rhaena's mind had drifted to far darker memories. Though as she'd learned through her experience with motherhood, it didn't do to dwell on such things with children around. They always noticed it...they weren't naive enough to miss it entirely.

"Maester Alfador, you mean," Rhaena gently corrected, smoothing a couple of his curls back behind his ear. 

Aemon was quick to nod eagerly, pointing towards Elaya to add, "yes and...and he told Elaya how papa went out!" 

'Out' was putting it mildly, for while Rhaena knew not the extent of Maester Alfador's knowledge on the matter at hand. She did however know exactly what sent Aemond 'out' of the castle just a few hours ago. As she recalled it, Rhaena had received the order from the Kingsguard guarding her door earlier this morn. 

See, earlier in the morning, before the sun had properly risen. Rhaena had awoken to a rather...regularly expected act, a warm delicious pleasure that crept up between her thighs in long wet languid swipes. The feeling seeped into her peaceful slumber until the aching arousal dragged her back into consciousness. Where she'd awoken to find her husband settled between her legs, his arms tangled around her thighs keeping them spread as he lapped at her quivering wanting cunt. 

Eventful as it was... she'd awoken to many mornings with such activities to pull her from her sleep. Aemond was always eager, he had been ever since he’d stolen her from the Vale and made her his wife. Only now the urges seemed heightened, especially since she began to reciprocate his wantings. The conception of little Daemion was the birth of these feelings...and now the conception of another babe barely a year later had shown the realm and their present court that their union was—mending.

Into what, exactly? 

Something feral and animalistic, surely. A complicated mess of attraction, love and loathing. 

In either case, once Aemond had brought her to the brink of ecstasy itself...he pressed a kiss upon her rounded belly and readied himself for the training yard. From there, she hadn't seen him. Assumably he'd returned to bathe and dress himself again for the early morning council meeting, but she'd fallen back to sleep in-between that time. Only normally, he would have woken her. Normally, they'd have readied for the meeting with his council together...she'd negotiated that right of hers from her husband after the birth of Daemion. As his Queen, she wanted a spot upon his council, to be an active participant in his rule. Time after time, whether it was another one of their vicious volatile arguments between them or an instance of a sweet and tender domesticity as they lazed naked within their bed. Aemond had spent the last two years echoing the sentiment to her, that she was more than just his broodmare. 

And then he did this. 

He removed her from the council this morning. Without even the gall to tell her himself, he left for the meeting without her and then left the information for their guard to relay to her. 

Of course, later upon his return, when Rhaena was properly woken. Bathed and dressed herself in a lovely velvety gown, a dark Targaryen red with intricate black lace linings. With added black lace and sewn jeweled dragons and floral embroidery woven along her bodice and the hem of her skirt. She'd been sat upon her favourite chaise, providing their second son with his early morning feeding.  

That was when Aemond burst through the doors with a look of exhaustion and a need for attention. 

A need she had no intention of abiding by as he sought to exclude her so soundly this morn with no warning once so ever. In all honesty it had tainted the way she'd sweetly awoken in bed with him, as clearly that was more than just his hungered need to taste her first thing in the morn. As it was just as equally his act of service to placate her for what he had planned on doing all along. 

As it happened, Rhaena had burped their babe upon her shoulder, before she swiftly handed him off to Elaya to take to the nursery. It was only once the young wet-nurse had left the room that Aemond moved for Rhaena. Taking long strides to meet her upon the chaise, she'd scoffed at him then, knowing exactly what he wanted. His heated gaze lingered on her still exposed bosom, lustful and wanting...though she was too annoyed with him to indulge him. 

Perky and engorged as they were, she knew he more than likely wished to lay with her. To rest his head upon her swollen breasts as she caressed his hair and allowed him to unwind from his otherwise stressful meeting. And perhaps, had she'd been present for said meeting...or at the very least privy to the information that had been shared or delved into there...she would have sympathized. She would have given him exactly what he wanted, she'd placate him, hold him as he sometimes wishes to be cuddled. 

But no, not then. 

Instead she pulled the buttons of her chemise closed, lifting herself up off of the chaise, she walked around him and made her way to the long ornamented wall-length mirror that stood on the northern side of their chambers. There she stared purposely at her reflection only, working to ignore the way his perplexed expression morphed into one of burning irritation. As Rhaena casually touched up the ends of a few of her long loosening twists, it would soon be time to undo them, free her curls and wash her hair. A task she'd take to later this evening before bed. 

In the moment, however, Rhaena focused on herself. The vast majority of her maternity gowns had elegant buttons upon the front of the gown, made for easier access to nurse her babe at any given time of the day. A stipulation that had always been a part of her marriage, Aemond would have no one but her to nurse their children. 

Though it was in that mirror's reflection that their argument had started. He'd made his way towards her, and she'd turned her dragon's fire directly upon him. Perhaps she'd been warranted in it, that inundated rage of feeling belittled and undermined felt all too consuming for her to ignore in the face of Aemond's condescending rebuttals. That she was apparently in no 'condition' to need to be present for council meetings, that she would be filled in on the most ‘pertinent information’ when needed. 

Perhaps it was her body now, so late in her pregnancy, hormones ran amok fluttering dangerous levels of heightened emotions throughout her. Though even still, she was certain of it. 

He was sidelining her...she could feel it. 

And she didn't know why. 

‘Confinement’ felt like such a half-assed answer. 

He was hiding things from her and yet he still sought rewards for such blatant behaviour. Was it any wonder she denied him those rewards, she was in no mood to lay tangled in bed with him. She was in no mood to allow him to nuzzle his cheek upon her ample chest while he caressed her belly and teased her core with soft presses of his slender fingers. She knew him far too well for that. The progression of him starting off by claiming that he just wished for her to 'set him at ease'. Only, within the hour he'd seduce her to the point of having her gown torn off with his cock working her with rough deep wanting strokes. 

It was something he could never resist, especially when she was this far along with one of her pregnancies. All he wanted was to be inside of her, to feel her heated walls clenched tightly around thick length. His ever constant need to sink into her warmth, soak himself in her wetness. All as he held her tightly against him, nestled between her thighs as he rocked into her with perfect rhythm. Set at a pace of his choosing, with his teeth grazing her neck marking her body. And that ironclad grip of his, enough to set bruises, enough to make her shudder with want…the sort of hold that prevented the mere idea of escape. 

Letting her go...it was never an option, it always seemed a foreign concept to him.  

This would have been no different and seeing as she was cross with him. She chose to stand her ground, to hold fast to her willpower against his handsome seductive charms. It was a hard thing sometimes these days, seeing as her body almost always wanted for him...a true traitor, really. Her body had always betrayed her when it came to him. Ever since her early days, even when she firmed her way through every bedding session. Even the nights she cried through the utter heartbreak of allowing the acts done upon her…in the name of her safety…in the name of her duty. 

It’d been disgusting then, to think that her body had still enjoyed it even when her mind screamed the opposite. The thought of taking in the cock of the man who’d killed her first love, her second love…her grandmother…and then her father. 

Perhaps some days still…she found herself disgusted with herself. Because she didn’t hate it as much as she should anymore…because she’d found her way to enjoying it all. 

Surely the Gods’ frowned upon her. 

Thankfully, though, in that moment, when she denied him she stood by it. And because she stood so harshly against his whims, he stormed out of their rooms. A dark thunderous slam of pent up aggression and building animosity, he needed a different outlet seeing as his preferred choice had repudiated him. And in that knowledge, Rhaena knew well that he'd only ever go to Vhagar next. 

In this world Aemond Targaryen had two sanctuaries. 

Vhagar…and Rhaena, herself. 

And if one would not have him…then he’d storm his way over to the one that would. 

That however, had been several hours ago now. Rhaena had spent the rest of her morning in peace, she'd bathed and dressed Aemon herself. It was a good distraction from her own frustrations. She broke her fast with her young son, watched on as he ate his oats and banana slices messily. Biting back small amused smiles as she corrected his loose hold of his spoon and dabbed a napkin to his grubby mouth. Nibbling on her own custard pastry, delicately sipping her spiced tea in between. Their meal had been nice, they'd spoken about the day's activities her son wished to partake in. The lessons he was most excited to learn about today, as well as his hope to go flying with his father again later in the afternoon. 

Seeing as Morning was still growing, now a much larger beast over the last four years...she was still too small for Rhaena to fly upon herself. Let alone for her to take her son up with her. No, the choices were limited. Aemon could either fly with his father upon Vhagar, with his aunt upon Moondancer, or his uncle upon Sunfyre. As his own little golden hatchling, Golding...was his current name for his bonded beast, the he-dragon was still far too small for him to mount. Though Golding was surely a temporary name as Aemond intended on convincing their son to choose a more suited name for the dragon. But that was a conversation they'd have to shelf for now. Aemon was still a toddler and so he quite enjoyed the name he'd chosen.

In either case, as Aemon's choice for dragons to fly upon was scarce...he would always choose Vhagar first, he was painfully enamoured with every facet of his father. Even the less than savoury parts of him. 

Once Maester Alfador came to fetch Aemon for his lessons to attend with his cousins, Rhaena turned her attention back to her younger son. Playing letter blocks with Daemion, reading to him and singing lullabies as he grew sleepy in her arms. She'd taken him and sat upon the balcony overlooking the courtyard so that her babe could take some sun and fresh air as he slept soundly, there she listened to sounds of the busy castle. The birds chirping in the wind and the distant roars of the dragons near the pits. 

And there she'd thought of Vhagar and her husband. There was so much she still wished to say, so much he'd simply chosen to walk out on just because he could. With the full freedom that came with the title of King...he expressed that power either as intelligently as he wished or as childishly as a man of four and twenty could.

But now with Aemon in her company once again, she'd have to deal with the boy’s father, Aemond later...once he returned from his petulant flight upon Vhagar... she'd deal with him then. 

Returning her focus to her son, she pressed a sweet kiss upon Aemon's forehead. Gazing down into his pale indigo eyes, a mirror of his father's own. In fact, in all honesty…Aemon's entire visage was simply a little mirror to Aemond's own. They shared the same face shape...or at least the pudgy round face Aemond once held in childhood. It was a good indicator for the features their son would one day mature into. The two of them also shared near identical noses and lip shapes. Although, Rhaena's own added genes had ensured that the tip of Aemon's nose was just a tad bit more rounded. His lips more rounded than Aemond's own plush sharp bow-shaped lips. 

It was in the little things, Rhaena supposed. How their son had inherited her curly hair, a pinch of her tawny complexion. Her soft curved eyebrows and her almond shaped eyes. 

Yet still, all in all, their son was the living embodiment of a namesake, one Aemond had purposely bestowed upon their first child. Either to flood his own ego or in a dubious if not blindingly obvious attempt to flaunt his supposed legitimate reign over the one he'd stolen. The one he’d slaughtered in order to usurp the throne.

Though surely the realm was privy to the fact that it was Rhaena's own blood that made their son and the rest of their children so pure, they'd made both a purebred Valyrian heir and a spare for the throne. A union that started with a form of forced coerced duty...now led by something far more complicated. 

Something that existed between the bounds of love and hatred. 

For the moment, Rhaena gave her son leave to return to his toys. He'd want to play with her, but she needed a moment to herself first. She'd only just returned from spending some time with her sister in the gardens, where she'd divulged a splintered version of the events of this morning. Not that it mattered really, Baela may have joined Rhaena in their unified ridiculing of their King. But at the end of the day Baela would remind Rhaena of the same fact she always had, that Aemond Targaryen was a fickle psychotic being…and that she should be careful to never push the bounds and risk her life in the process. 

Because she’d already done so years ago…she’d already made such attempts in the past. And while she still had her life granted to her, she did not walk away the victor in those situations. 

So in that way, her elder sister’s advice had always been sound…but it was hard to swallow at times. Seeing as Rhaena’s forced marriage barely compared to the near bliss Baela was lucky enough to experience with her own spouse. In their case, her union with Aegon was a long time coming, a match Baela had hoped for since she was six and ten. Though it was a shame that just as she'd gotten used to the idea of marrying their sweet and loyal Jace...he'd been plucked from their lives. 

Although Rhaena always supposed that as devastating as his loss was, he was spared in a way. For while he’d come to love his betrothed, his daring Baela…she…she still secretly harboured feelings for the enemy. The night before Viserys had died, Baela had spent one final night with Aegon before he was set to wed Helaena. She'd left that passionate encounter with the settling seed of a man she was most likely to never see again. The Gods, though, they could be funny in that way. Tearing the realm apart, bathing a family in blood and tragedy only for the fates to align yet again. For Baela to finally have Aegon as she once wished, just in time to make her not-so hidden pregnancy legitimate before it was too late. Only now both their hands were tainted. War had taken both Jace and Helaena. War had taken everyone away from the dragon twins except their lone grandsire, Corlys Velaryon and his now legitimized heir Alyn Velaryon. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK...KNOCK* 

The pounding knock at the door drew Rhaena back out of her thoughts once again, she was losing it slowly but surely. She really did need her husband to return, she needed to clear her own mind...she needed to focus on something, anything else. The knock was hard, blunt and formulaic, it could have only belonged to a member of the Kingsguard. So when Rhaena swung the door open to see Ser Willis Fell, she was not surprised to come face to face with his hardened visage. Expressionless as he was, the redheaded man simply stepped aside for a young squire to hold out a silver platter in front of their Queen. 

"For you, my Queen. A raven hath just arrived," the young lanky boy bowed his head, as a sign of sheepish reverence and respect. 

A small scroll. 

A missive.

How odd. 

Tumultuous as this reign had been over the years, at this point in time, nothing beyond yet another rebellion could warrant the urgency of a missive like this.

—

Part 2 coming soon...maybe Friday!

[corporalicent]

incorrect 'house of the dragon' quotes:

inspired by a little conversation i had with @pugetprincess

[cyeco13]

Rhaena and Aemond 💗✨️

[lena-luthor]

You want to help me? Is this the help you offer after all these years? A reminder to be grateful?

[qyburnsghost]

Love how in the book he cared for his sons and only hid out of fear that rhaenys would kill them. That their weren’t dirt poor but their mother had several ships and was upper class (though not royal) , not broke , ignored and talked down to by their father .

How will they get him to care for his sons life in danger if he won’t even look them in the eye or talk to them like a person and not a stranger bagging his groceries at the supermarket ???

[mochadoe]

See how do you fuck up an adaptation that gives you so much details???!! Why do writers think they are better than the source material in this case?

[bardsansa]

maidenpool

[mochadoe]

Jace and Luke

[an-abyss-of-stars]

𖤓 Don't You Dare Do This Without Me 𖤓 Ch. 4

Pairing: Rhaena x Aemond

Warnings: Smut, oral sex (f), teasing

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary: Aemond faces off against his pregnant dragoness and does his best to coax her into bed with him...Rhaena is having none of it...at first...

.

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ao3 | 

Notes: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT ...incominggg

A little bit of oral to start...

As the heavy aged doors of his royal chambers closed behind him, a sense of deep seeded calm and serenity seeped into his very bones. Aemond had even closed his eye, slipped off his eye patch as he took a deep settling breath. Inhaling that sweet fresh scent before he exhaled heavily, a silent wordless prayer to his soul. 

He already felt slightly healed compared to how he had felt before he'd entered the castle.

"Ao sagon arlī," you're back.

Mmmm…

He'd know her voice anywhere, that soft delicate timbre that was clearly priming like a prelude to a violent storm. Though, at that moment he could care less about the impending danger, she still felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the ever enduring lecture he'd just subjected himself to. Here, it was so easy to ignore the inevitable when his heart ached at the sound of her voice. His blood trilled at the sound of her effortlessly rolled R's, the silky tone that fluttered from her lips in their family's ancient tongue.

"Iksan," I am, Aemond only managed to breathe the word, slowly opening his eye to find her standing before him. A sudden apparition, she'd appeared like a vision. All glittery and alight, utter perfection in her crimson velvety gown. Black lace dragons and flowers intricately embroidered to contrast the red silk. Fitted taut to her bodice, while her skirts flowed loosely. It was as he remembered, the dress she’d had on when he’d initially charged out of this room hours ago. 

That dress…it was stirring it all up again, that storm within him. The things he'd wanted from her…the very things she'd denied him. 

And just like before…he couldn't help himself. The trajectory of where his eye often fell these days, the slightest exposure of her cleavage that led to the ample heft of her milk filled breasts. The near animalistic, unfettered urge to reach for them now...to ignore the battle she so obviously wished to have in favour of tearing her dress from her body. Uttering whatever empty agreement she'd need reached just to have her settled upon his lap, to allow him access to her pillowy bare mounds. He still so wished to bury his face there, to massage the tender soreness away as he usually did around this time for her.

It would soothe him to do so, he knew it would. 

Just as he was sure he could ease the growing pressure and discomfort she was surely feeling. If she'd only give herself over to him, allow him the access he craved from her. 

To take to her teat with vigor….the act of freely suckling from her.

It was the image of it, the wanting…he was sick with it. The all-consuming need to have her in his arms, to be wrapped and curled around her soft body. 

He almost wanted to groan aloud, the frustration was giving way to something more. Burning him deep within his center, causing restless shivers to unnerve his entire being. 

To be frank, she was already standing so close. Rhaena had waddled her way over to him, standing at her full height…just barely reaching the height of his shoulder. The close proximity of her had raised the speed in which his heart thumped within his chest. It was arousal and fury that coursed within him now, that irritation that itched at him, it was leading him to some rather unsightly places within his mind. 

At the sight of her presence alone, he could envision scooping her up without a word. Furiously carrying her to their bed and having his way with her. 

It would have been easy.

And in that moment, in the darkest seed of his mind…he figured he’d blame her for it. 

She’d allowed these needs of his to fester, she’d rebuffed him when all he had wanted was her company...physical company. And now he hungered for more…he hungered for every inch of her. That rage that always laid within him, a sunken gorge filled with black tar…it craved her very essence. 

Blood would not satiate this. 

He could see that now, Aemond could tell by the fire roaring in his veins. It wouldn‘t have mattered how many people he’d killed to numb the feeling, how many villages, cities, ships…scorched earth or not. 

His salvation was here…

So what would it take?

The weakness she’d managed to embed in him, stitched to the core of his heart…he still needed her to enjoy his touch. He couldn’t stomach causing another situation in which she laid unmoving and unfeeling beneath him, the wretched feeling of fucking what felt like a lifeless corpse was not satisfying in the least. Nor was mere thought of ever repeating a mirror to the night she cried beneath him a few years prior. 

What he wanted…was to return to this morning. The way she’d been before the sun rose…before everything went to shit.

As Rhaena stopped inches away from him, her face came into clear view, tilting upwards to catch his gaze. Aemond’s mind untangled as she garnered his full undivided attention. Her beautiful soft visage, the faint smattering of freckles upon the apple of her cheeks. Her pale eyes sparkling in the light of the late afternoon sun, with her plush heart-shaped lips, he watched intensely as they settled into a rather firm line at the sight of him, "ao iēdrosa yknagon hen ōrbar se zaldrīzes's perzys…Iksā ribazmoqitta, ao gīmigon bona ȳdra daor ao," you still smell of smoke and dragon's fire…you are mad, you know that don't you.

Ah, he should have known... 

Sweet words would not be bestowed upon him just yet. 

Biting his lower lip, he sought to fight the sinister grin that threatened to form upon his face. It wasn’t the bloom of pride that spread within his gut, but something remarkably similar was working its way through him. Because, of course she’d started at him in this way. Nodding her head slightly as if to prove that this was an absolute certainty she’d directed at him. That he must be mad, how else would he have chosen to act as he did…her eyes said it all. Her words wielded at him like a blade, her voice even held a slight edge to it. Something so faint, so miniscule, it was a wonder he could detect such differences in her tone at all. 

But he knew his wife well, she could be just as petty as he could. Hurling such specific words at him…aiming for his ego, his heart.

Oh, how she often wished to wound him. 

As he’d wounded her so many years ago.

Though, in his case he’d purposely isolated her to the point of no return. Taken from her that which could never be returned to her…she’d never have her loved ones back. And truthfully she knew, with Helaena gone, Aemond had no one else she could or would ever harm that would matter to him truly. Choosing not to foster a relationship with his mother did not cut him the way she probably would have hoped that it would. And she loved their children far too much to ever harm them…so really, she could never strike at him in a way that lasted. 

But she could always jab at him, personally, remind him of his sins…his faults. 

She so loved to insult him. 

And he so loved to feign coyness, purposely allowing that dark grin of his to properly stretch upon his curved lips. Easing his chin upwards, truly looking down at her with a heavily lidded gaze. Scanning her face and finding joy in the pretty yet infuriated look upon it, Aemond then lowered his voice down an octave, "ao kessa emagon naejot ȳrda ziry ilagon, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys," you shall have to narrow it down, my sweet wife. 

Surely in the grand scheme of things it didn't really matter. Like Lucerys, the boy was dead...intent or not. Regret or no. This farming village was torched to the ground. Why he did it, no longer really mattered now that it was done. Besides, the move was calculated enough…he had his own misgivings to sift through when the dust settled. But in the interim, all he cared about now was fulfilling the wants he was denied several hours ago. 

He wanted his wife in their bed and this time he would have her there.

Slowly but surely, he was closing the gap between them, taking relaxed yet precise steps towards her. That urge to tug her against him spiked like a beacon, the closer he was…the more he eyed her entire form. With the way her gentle slender hands caressed her stomach absentmindedly, the sweet rounding swell of it. The evidence of their bonds, the ever enticing roundness of her swollen belly. It was hypnotic to him, the sight alone created so many heated notches along his spine. The knowledge of it, the reality that he alone fucked that child into her. Bred her perfectly, for the third time in a row. Three pregnancies, two births…not one complication thus far, surely a silent blessing from the Gods. A proven point as he’d always believed it to be true, they were fated to be with one another. 

Rhaena Targaryen was made to be his Queen…no matter how much she liked to deny that fact whenever their arguments grew heated. 

Whenever the fact that she had become the mother to the next generation of Targaryens to sit the throne…it weighed on her. Soon enough they’d have another…and soon enough he’d fill her with another…and another…

This constant state of pregnancy was a dream of his and now they were living it…and it was exquisite. His heartbeat battered within his chest, his gaze surely burned her as he watched her intently. Predatorily eyeing his prey, but his prey could read him. Rhaena stepped through the rays of sunlight like a goddess, soaking in all of his attention. Her tawny complexion warmed into a golden brown in the sun as her silvery-white twists that she'd sported pinned upon her head earlier in the morning. Had been loosened, unbound, draped behind her shoulders and down her back, leveling down to her waist. 

He wanted to palm it. 

To have her on all fours as he tugged a handful of it 

Rutted himself deep inside of her warmth as he took her from behind…

Even in the details, his mind wandered…he tried to focus on what was right in front of him, Eyeing the roots of her hair, several soft wispy curls had slipped free from the loosened twists she'd kept for the week. And he could wonder then, that had he stayed in bed with her this morning, she would have told him that she found her current style in need of freshening. She would have hummed in his arms about the task of undoing them, combing through her pretty curly coils before she set about the intensive process of washing and caring for her hair.

And perhaps, he supposed such a topic should bore him...it probably would have if he’d been wed to anyone else. It certainly would for the average married nobleman. Yet, instead, Aemond found himself regretting having missed it. He’d regretted leaving as early as he did this morning, regretted cutting his time with her so soon. It was his will, to fixate on every little part of her…every aspect of her. 

He’d cut himself off from her too soon.

And then she returned the favour. 

Perhaps, he had done this to himself. 

Rhaena’s pale lilac eyes gazed up at him heavily. Her brows set deeply then her expression faltered, she’d caught something in his eye…the look of it…the undeniable stark arousal within it. But she dared to push past it, boldly moving even closer to him. If he hadn’t known any better, Aemond would have wagered that his dragoness still wished to be in his embrace. Walking into his space like a prey would into a trap they already bore witness to. 

She still wanted him…she only wished to be in the midst of combat with him while she indulged him.

And with her sweet scent drawing even closer...drowning him in it. A scent he was already addicted to, so potent with the source so near…he had the half the mind to acquiesce her unworded request. To drink her in…to steep himself in her scent and clear his mind entirely. 

Ah, and now her cheeks were reddening, her body heated as her voice hitched before she levelled it, "ao gīmigon olvie skoros ao gōntan! Ao zaltan iā lentor ilagon! Kesrio syt nyke gōntan daor jaelagon naejot qogralbar pirtir lēda ao!?" you know exactly what you did! You burned a village down! Because I did not wish to fucking lie with you!?

Oh how she knew him well, his little wife knew he paid far more attention to her beratements when she spoke to him in High Valyrian. And now she was waiting for a reply she did not truly care to hear. Though he figured he'd give her one nonetheless, such a glutton he was for her form of punishment. Leaning in closely to her, so eager to push her emotions further, eager to draw her right into his arms whether it was through anger or sheer want. Whichever came first. So with his arms folded behind his back, he pouted slightly, “pār ao gīmigon olvie skoro syt, ao yenka emagon ilagontan lēda nyke. Ñuha byka ābrazȳrys," then you know exactly why, you should have lain with me. My little wife.

Rhaena groaned furiously, eager to hit him, he was sure. Baring her teeth, her face grew a slight tinge rosier. She was a sight in her fury, such an ethereal woman…such an adorable expression. As her hands fell to fists at her hips, she turned away from him quickly, growling lowly, “bisa iksis daor dōna. Issa daor kirimves. Ao daor gaomagon gomagho bisa!" This is not cute. It is not funny. You cannot keep doing this! She exclaimed, groaning as she finally aimed to step around him, her hands reaching up into her hair as she tugged in a semblance of decompression. Still, her moving around him forced his gaze to zero in on her heaving chest. The curvy swoop of her waist and the shapely width of her widened hips. A true hourglass figure, by the Gods…he’d never thought her body would only grow to morph into an even shapelier figure. Shifting with each childbirth, becoming even more enticing as time went on.

For, he was more than simply enthralled…he was entirely hard. His cock already straining against his breeches, tight and painfully full with need. All of that weight she gained for each babe…every part of her so curved and soft…round and plush and weighted. 

He was losing focus, that much was clear.

It was obvious now, he couldn’t let her move away from him. As she had moved to step around him, his arm quickly snatched her forearm and pulled her back. She couldn’t help but follow the momentum, her weight tipping towards him as he already stood open armed and ready to catch her. And she did fall against him with a soft grunt. Already groaning when she felt his arms snake around her waist, his hands grabbing at her…pulling her flush against his firm body. Aemond could be unrelenting, patience having already long left his senses as he began to swarm her. Holding her soft body against him with such an unyielding grip, leaning into her, lowering himself down enough to nudge her nose with his own. In an effort to chase her lips…to pull her into his own hypnotic orbit.

Still, low effort as it was, she grunted and evaded his kiss. 

This game…it was growing tiresome with such little reward being given. 

Instead, he lowered himself further, burying his face in the crook of her neck, he smoothly lingered there. Breathing her in, nuzzling her there, grazing his lips along her warm skin. Just as his hot tongue began to drag along her pulse-

"Mmm…FUCK!" she screamed at him, the immediate switch back to the common tongue snapped his concentration for only a millisecond, but not long enough to release her. Not long to stop his warm pressing kisses. Rhaena, however, tried and failed to pull away, “stop it. Stop…I want you to focus! This is not a game, real people died!”

She was whining, so sweetly like that and yet she thought he’d be able to stop. All she’d done was entice him further, causing him to growl against her, tightening his hold of her. And really through it all he was just so fucking tired of hearing about that small inconsequential village, what did it matter to them. Land that held no Lord, land that had no real value. So many traitors lay there in the mist to begin with. 

That rebellion that broke out near those lands.

So fucking near to Lannisport, not three days ride away…and yet, it was not House Lanny or  House Lannett or even House Lantell that put down the rebellion before it could rise up. The three closest Houses to the lands of Oxcross…and yet they’d heard no word of a whisper. And they lifted not one finger to handle things on behalf of their sworn King. 

Three Houses…three branches of distant kin to the residents of the equally near Casterly Rock. 

House Lannister…the largest seat in the area. Sat by the young child of a Lord, Loreon Lannister. Or really in truth, the one who pulled the strings was still the Dowager Lady Johanna Westerling. If the Lannetts, the Lannys and the Lantells all deferred to her first. If she deterred them…if she still held bitterness over Aemond’s indifference to taking any of her daughters to wed as his Queen four years ago. 

The suspicions were there. 

To leave Lannisport so unguarded with a rebellion on the loose. One of the most major ports of the Seven Kingdoms, the largest settlement in the westerlands…and Lady Johanna did not call to have it put down sooner. Instead she waited for the aid of a dragon…she’d waited until Aemond had grown tired of the inaction and decided it was best to simply send his brother to deal with the mess. 

There were facets to this…and yet his Queen only wished to speak about the insignificant lives that were lost when her husband still so clearly needed her focus to be put upon him. He could discuss his theories with her at length when his mind was settled…for now…he needed her. 

With his teeth now grazing her skin, threatening to break the tenderness, threatening to leave a trail of several marks along her slender neck. Through it all, his growls grew darker, “I am not the one who needs to focus. You, my dear, are too preoccupied with lives that do not concern you.”

“Mmmm, but of course, nothing should supersede the needs of your wanting cock,” she scoffed, hoping to dig her nails in upon his biceps. As if she hoped her claws could pierce through the many layers he wore in his everyday life. Through his fine leather tunic, his layered jerkin, his under-cloth shirt. But it was the effort of it, he liked to know she was trying to bite back at him. Loved the feel of her arms draping over his shoulders if only for her nails to scratch at the nape of his neck. The delicious twinge of pain she elicited. 

“I’m not going to tend to you now. Rewarding you for needless murder is not something I find to be enticing,” Rhaena posed the words as if she wished for him to respond to it, only to cut off the birth of silence she’d supplied him, “I did not even wish for you to leave earlier…I only wanted you to explain yourself. Instead you fly off and torch a village. You cannot keep doing that everytime I refuse to hold you. That's madness!"

Everytime? He’d only done it twice…and that would be including now. The first two were reckless enough, spontaneous acts of violence. But this one…well…if he included that other occasion…perhaps she could view this as three occurrences. 

Even so, it could be equally argued that he could partially explain his destination this time. 

Though to think, she wanted him to stay earlier…

Who would’ve thought. 

Smirking against her neck, Aemond decided he was quite done with it all. He wanted to be in bed with her, so that is where they would continue this if it was her wish. Loosening his hold for only a minute, Rhaena eyed him curiously right as he leaned down and picked her up without warning. Cradling her to him bridal style, he settled her weight against him with ease. Finding pure comfort in holding her in his arms, balancing them both as he began to carry her through their solar.

“Aemond!” she gasped, her hands instantly clutching onto his chest for secured purchase, then she reached for the collar of his tunic, “you can’t-”

“You seem to be denying your King an awful lot today,” he responded dryly, unmoved by her little dramatic display as she even tried to wiggle out his hold at first. A futile effort that she thankfully abandoned soon enough. Reluctantly settling in against him almost immediately afterwards, draping her arm over his shoulder as he would have expected. Her frown setting deeper as she eyed him…that was also to be expected. 

“I’m only exercising my authority. As your Queen, am I not allowed to speak freely,” she turned away from his gaze, pouting now, “besides…some denying would clearly do you some good, no one else will dare do it.”

A smirk spread across his face as he made long strides through their solar. Stepping over scattered toys as he weaved them around their furniture and headed towards their bedchamber. Sneaking in a warm pressing kiss to the dip of her temple before she could shirk away, he smirked, "I promise, dear girl. Others have dared today, my mother for one.”

Her lips smacked as she parted them, not out of shock or astonishment…more out of confusion…skepticism. She seemed to be at a loss for a response. 

“Mmm…in either case, if you really are intent on lecturing me, I must admit, my mother has already beaten you to that as well. I’d rather not have to subject myself to another," the bass in his voice remained resonant, purring almost directly into her ear. He felt her shiver in his arms, watched her lips twitch before she began to nibble upon them. 

When he carefully placed her down on their raised canopy bed, he could see her shoulders relax…the subconscious need to get off her feet finally setting in. She was so focused on arguing with him she’d begun to neglect herself, tsk tsk, “you know what's true madness in all this, is that you'd ever refuse me to begin with. I’ve never made our lovemaking so selfish, your needs would have been met.”

She'd rolled her eyes at that, parting her rose toned lips just as she sank her teeth down upon her lower lip, “I-...this is not a lecture, for one. You are not a child and I should not have to…ugh. Look, I would not have refused you if you’d left my seat upon the council intact…had you at the very least, given me the courtesy of a warning ahead of time…”

As she shifted herself upon the bed’s edge, Aemond took to kneeling in front of her. Eyeing her all the while, he made a small grimace. 

And there it was…in the heat of their back and forth, Aemond knew his stubborn little wife wouldn’t have let it go. 

Honestly, he hoped that she would have moved past that slight by now. In truth, he expected the majority of her anger towards him to be about the village. But the fucking council seat? That was the core of it all wasn't it. Running his fingers through his hair, he undid the braid he'd kept his hair in for most of the day, occupying his fingers with the action as he contemplated his response. In all fairness, he could have worded things kindly for her…seeing as she felt quite personally wounded about it all. 

Then again, the facts of the matter seemed all too obvious to him to even bother. 

“I am allowed to be upset with you…” she’d grumbled beneath her breath, crossing her arms in a huff, propping them underneath her bosom…pushing up her plump cleavage even more so. 

With his heated gaze leveled upon her, he clenched his jaw, grinding it slightly, "I did not think you needed the word told directly by me. You're meant to be in confinement. You're nearly nine moons along, it is only right."

"Right? You gave me no warning! And I know my body well enough, I do not need you to tell me when it's time to be put in confinement! I'm not a horse, there is no period in my pregnancies in which I wish to be locked here in this room again," she huffed, with the intention of standing up and walking away from him. However, that was not going to happen. Aemond was quick to place his large hands down upon her thighs, keeping her seated with a gentle set of force. 

To her immediate dismay. 

Yet, her movement was not the focal point for him. No, it was her phrasing that caught his ear. ‘Locked here in this room again’, he knew exactly what she meant by that. The not so subtle jab at the way he had treated her during her first pregnancy. How she’d been largely confined to this chamber for almost the entirety of it, because he did not trust her to keep their babe as he needed her to. With their second babe, he had granted her far more freedoms. He'd returned her precious Morning to her, he'd allowed her to stroll the grounds with guards at her back and maids at her side. And as negotiated upon the birth of their second born, he'd even given her a spot on his council, as his Queen, free to witness, listen in and even interject if need be.

So, gently, he slotted himself between her thighs, his pulse practically palpitating at the innate warmth of her. There he slid his hands beneath the mildly weighted silk of her skirts, he began to push the flowy fabric up along her legs. She tutted at him, but he didn’t stop himself, he folded the bunched material at her hips. Tucked beneath her belly as he admired the smooth feel of her bare thighs and then her calves, running his calloused hands along them. Bringing his attention down the dainty poppy red slippers upon her feet, as he popped them off one at a time. Leaning himself into her as his hands casually messaged her sore feet. 

He could be both considerate and attentive to her needs if only given the chance. If only she could see that’s all he’d done today…it had been for her benefit…with her needs in mind. 

As his fingers deftly massaged her feet, Aemond could have sworn he’d heard the breathiest little moan of satisfaction slip from her lips. A little chink in her armour, how he loved to cause it. Rhaena’s own hands remained planted on either side of her hips, palmed down against the bed, fingers gripping the dark folded fur blanket there. She was desperate to hold on to the last semblance of control that she had now…her reluctance to reach for him was wearing her down, he could see it. So that was when he struck, releasing her feet, his hands slid up her thighs once again. Settling on the plush curve at her hips, his left hand already rubbing the underside of her belly. 

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke, hmm,” look at me, he murmured softly. And after a stalled moment, her furrowed brows brought her pale eyes back to him, her button nose scrunching as her lips twisted at him. 

Rhaena would always be the first to say their eldest son took after him, but this expression that was so utterly hers…little Aemon had inherited those inflections almost exactly. 

It warmed his soul to see it really, that look was a sign that he was winning. That her rage was crumbling in the sight of his efforts. Slowly, he could reel her into him, even as she weakly fought against him. Curling his hands around her, he secured his arms around her tightly. Gazing up at her with both his pale indigo eye as well as gleaming sapphire, that was when her hands finally landed upon his shoulders. She finally sighed and allowed her body to guide her closer, close enough for Aemond to nudge his forehead up against hers, "this time it is different, you already know that it is. This confinement is not a prison, I only wished to ease your burdens…to make things comfortable for you."

"How considerate of you," she swallowed thickly, surely aiming to make her response sound as sarcastic as possible, only her shaky delivery made it all sound heated and earnest, "it is a shame you didn't bother to ask me if I wanted that or to warn me even. You couldn’t be bothered, I suppose, to at the very least tell me yourself. Ser Willis is the one who told me after I'd already dressed and readied myself."

"Rhaena," he sighed her name as softly as ever, rasping at the end of it. Yes, he could be gentle if he tried…his patience however, had already stretched as thin as it would go. 

"It was aggravating. Borderline humiliating. You cannot act as if this was done as a kindness when it was handled as it was. Ser Willis is not known for pleasant deliveries,” she'd cut short with what sounded like a low drawn groan, as her nose threatened to nuzzle against his instinctually. The close proximity hypnotically luring her to melt against him, relaxing in his hold of her as her fingers roamed down along his chest. Sparking his senses, burning his skin as her hands warmly slid back towards his shoulders. Caressessing the sharp notch of his Adams apple as her touch traveled along his jaw. Her thumbs tracing the sharp edge of it before raising to cup his cheeks properly, “have I not handled being your mate, the mother of your children and most certainly taking on my role as your Queen, all well enough."

Aemond could feel himself falling victim to her orbit yet again, even though he'd purposely placed himself here...he would lose his upper hand if he wasn’t careful. He could already feel himself leaning into her already, her belly pressing against his chest, his hardening cock felt caught with the pressure of it all. As he raised one of his hands to feel the heat of the life they made, he smoothly brought the other hand up to hold her face. To keep her in place as he leaned his lips closer to hers. Chasing them eagerly, only then did her breath hitch, the sound made his cock grow absolutely rigid with want. As Rhaena's eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips and then back again, and there she'd hummed to stop him. Halting his desire to close the sliver of distance between their lips, their heated breath already mingling.

"I wasn't done, my impatient zaldrīzes," dragon, she bit back a small faint smile, while he allowed his smirk to pull completely. Her dragon…he did love to hear her possessive terms for him. Loved to be considered hers even when she was cross with him, with her thumb playfully dragging down his lower lip, she smirked, “mmm Aemond, you are trying to distract me,”

A puff of air escaped him as he teased, “is it working?”

At that, she only shook her head, scoffing faintly, “…as your Queen, I need more assurety. You tell me I'm more than your broodmare and then you act without me or on my behalf with no warning at all. I just don't…I do not like being the last to know pertinent information that affects me so directly. I hate to be sidelined when you’ve spent years promising me the opposite. And I certainly mislike feeling powerless in my own life's decisions."

What a bother.

There’d be no distracting her from this topic. 

Mmmm…she wanted more assurety?

As if he hadn't spent the last four years giving her just that. Giving her nearly everything she wanted...a courtesy he’d granted her as she was his Queen.

Breathing deeply, he rested his chin upon the perch of her belly. He found himself reaching around her hips, snuggly holding her in place as he hummed a sound acknowledgement. Recalling his own thoughts from just a few minutes ago, he only wished to 'utter whatever empty agreement she'd need reached just to have her settled upon his lap'. 

Hmmm, it would take some maneuvering to get her onto his lap now...but he figured he could loosen her to that end. In truth, from where he knelt upon the stone floor of their bedchamber...his appetite hungered for something far more immediate. 

Far closer to his lips...far sweeter to the taste. 

Aemond's gaze had darkened almost instantly as his hands slid the curve of her hips, fingers applying the lightest of pressures. He was not being very subtle at all and his Queen knew it. Really, he didn't need to meet Rhaena's eyes directly to notice the furrow of her brows. The heavy sigh that blew from her was telling enough, though she seemed adamant to have his eye on her. Reaching for his chin, she gripped and tilted face upwards. The saturated sun still illuminating her beauty in the most majestic way, even as she spoke with a deep seeded vexation, "you're not listening to me, I can tell."

Well, he was...and he wasn't. 

Biting his lip and he smirked, "you mislike feeling belittled, I heard you," his lips expectantly endured the wandering caress of her thumb. 

If she sought such serious answers... playing with his lower lip was certainly one way to get them. 

"Then..." She paused, her gaze flickering to the window that currently doused her in sunlight, her wispy silver curls shone nearly a glittery white, "tell me, what happened earlier. What angered you so, besides my unwillingness to lie with you then? What was said at the council meeting?" 

Ah...

It wasn't necessarily confidential information, he could care less about keeping her excluded from the issue at hand. What bothered him really, was the thought of sitting here speaking on the delicate matter of the politics of the realm. 

It was a topic he'd enjoy with a clear mind.

A topic he'd revel in divulging with her...after he'd taken what he needed. But he most certainly needed her first, there was no way around that. He could not keep his cock so taut and full as it was for much longer...he could not shake the want from his mind when he sat so ideally right between her legs. 

Without warning he rose to his feet. The matter was settled as far as he was concerned, this was as far as he'd go with just words. He started with his weapons belt, unsheathing his dagger and biting the blade in his mouth as he unlatched his belt and dropped it on the floor. Blackfyre remained sheathed as it fell to the floor. Next, he began unbuttoning his sleek black leather riding tunic, shirking it off and allowing it to fall all the same. 

Rhaena, however, only watched him perplexed all the while. Shaking her head slightly, her hands now held at the edge of the bed, "what are you doing?" 

Aemond thought it obvious, though apparently he'd have to explain the state of things. Apparently the massive bulge beneath the waistband of his breeches was not clear enough for his little wife to see. Even as he threw off his black jerkin, followed by his white cloth undershirt. By then, he took the blade from his mouth, leaning over her, he was somewhat glad to see she seemed utterly unthreatened by the fact that he was holding a dagger over her. In truth, he'd aimed it lower anyhow. 

That was when her eyes lit up, "no...NO! You're not cutting off another one of my dresses! There are buttons precisely placed directly on the front of this one!" 

"I will not be fiddling with lace covered buttons, sweet wife. Besides, I'll have it replaced within the week anyhow," he grinned, already slipping his fingers underneath the neckline of her gown. Feeling the thickness of the fabric, mentally calculating the pressure needed to cut through her sturdy silk layered bodice as well as her thin cotton shift beneath.

Of course, the skill lied in the ability to swiftly slice both away without nicking her with the blade. 

Just as he'd prepared himself to move forward, Rhaena groaned aloud as she shifted. It sounded sultry yet there was something nearly juvenile and pouty about it. Her furrowed brows moved to fret as if she wished to cross her arms to obstruct him, though she never did. She'd quite frankly leaned into his touch, whether she was conscious about it or not...he couldn't say. Her pale eyes only batted at him as her rose tinted lips pushed out, "but this is one of my favourites,"

"I'll gift you several just like it then," he hummed warmly enough, already eyeing the safest path in which he intended to slice. 

"Right, and then you'll cut those just as well. Soon enough I'll be forced to walk these halls bare," she fought to keep her look of petulance, only a cheeky little smile won the battle in the end. That was the prime moment to strike, and Aemond took it, just managing to catch her lips with his own. The immediate warmth that engulfed him as he lazily caught her sweet tongue upon his own. Lingering in the moment just long to feel his own heart soothe and settle with the feel of her. Truly indulging himself with the taste of her mouth, the remnant flavour of a spiced tea and her favoured sugary custard pastries. 

It was a simultaneous act, occupying her captivating mouth just as he pulled his dagger through, snapping each individual button that lined her bodice before cutting down the length of her dress. With his long platinum tresses draping over her, he felt her fingers trace the line of his scar upon his left cheek before feeling the edge of his jawline. Reaching to tuck his arrant strands behind his ear, there he gently pulled himself from her. Timed equally with a breathy gasp, Rhaena huffed, "mmmm...you're still a mad man, you didn't even answer my question." 

Mad? 

She had no idea...

Licking his lips, he still savoured the taste of her...eager to taste the sweet spot between her legs for the second time today, "consider my eagerness to be a necessity then." His voice was growing hoarse with need, especially as he'd watched the two halves of her gown and undergarment slide off her form. Tantalizing as gravity naturally revealed the parts of her he'd desperately longed to see. The slow tumbling of her crimson gown sliding to reveal one full plump breast and then the other. The soft showing of her bare swollen belly, her shapely thighs still parted directly below. With her warm brown skin still glowing in the sunlight, Aemond was sure he'd never seen such a perfect image. 

With Rhaena leaning back on her elbows, her long silver twists streaming down her back...she was waiting for him. Her pale lilac eyes were calling to him, silently beckoning him to take her as she wished. 

Surely she knew how dangerous her gaze was. 

Surely, she could see what it did to him...what she did to him. 

Leaning over her, he reached to place his dagger down upon their bedside table. Freeing his hand to glide along the soft dip of her bare waist. Though he wouldn't climb over her, not yet, he couldn't resist the opportunity laid at his feet. Instead, he reached for her cheek, "you want me to answer your question?"

Rhaena eyed him heatedly, nodding sharply.

"Hmmm, then you'll have to play your game to get it," Aemond rasped, purposely aiming a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. With a cocky little flick of his tongue, he began to lower himself once again. Quietly kicking himself for leaving his breeches on as he did so, but he could wait no longer. Pressing warm sloppy kisses down in a streak along her body, his hair falling against her, tickling her as he trailed between her perfect mounds and the rounded bump of her belly. 

While Aemond's complete and utter focus had shifted, Rhaena's body had begun to melt against his touch. Though her focus remained the same, "and what game would that be? The one where you spread my legs and get exactly what you've come for." 

He'd chuckled darkly at that, now kneeling before her, placing his hands upon her smooth knees. The delicate yet familiar motion of spreading her legs to suit his hungered urges as he glanced up at her, "quid pro quo...a fair trade...is that not what you call it? When you ride me senseless, take my cock however I wish to give it to you. You ease my every sense, all to receive whatever goal you'd been after that day." 

Rhaena's fingers danced upon her thighs, her lips folding in a charming little guilty expression, "you say that as if I use you." 

"Tis your favourite weapon to wield against me, is it not," Aemond grinned, his eye flickering down to the damp thatch of pale curls that laid above her pretty entrance, "it's exactly how you managed to gain a seat upon my council in the first place-" 

It was a feather light touch, his fingers spreading the soft folds of her there just as his thumb grazed against her sensitive little bud. Her legs shuddered instantly at his touch, her breath hitching in time with a little small quiver as she opened for him. She was already so slick, wet and wanting...the tender pink of her hidden flesh already calling to him.

"Aemond-" Rhaena gasped again, biting down hard upon her lower lip. 

He'd missed that sound, missed hearing all of the breathy moans he knew his wife to be capable of. All the sweet ways she could call his name when she so wished to. And, yes, he'd been granted a few much earlier in the morning...but he could be selfish at times. Hoarding the sound, the melodic melody of it. He wanted more...he always wanted more. 

Teasingly, Aemond continued to dab at her clit, softly rubbing the area with the pad of his thumb. Flashing a cunning smirk as he leaned his mouth close enough to blow hot air against her needy entrance, "what was that? Did you want me to stop?" 

Pettiness...he could never have enough.

"Mmmm, you're such a..." Rhaena groaned as she laid her head back, her hands combing through her twists as Aemond settled her legs over his shoulders. Her left calf sliding over his old burn scar upon his right shoulder, his one memorial from his battle at Rook’s Rest. The day the formidable Rhaenys Targaryen took both him and Vhagar on with Meleys at her side. Matching him blow for blow…nearly killing him with her immense dragon riding experience. As well as the worn battle tested Meleys. 

Aemond remembered that battle well…perhaps he regretted it more than the others. But in that fight he'd taken Meleys' dragon's fire just scarcely to the shoulder while managing to douse and dodge the worst of the onslaught. Only taking her down with the added aid of his brother and Sunfyre. 

A half victory, really. 

As were the majority of his dragon battles. 

Though in the end he had won it all. Rhaenys was dead, in her stead, he had that very woman's granddaughter here at his disposal. Legs splayed to him as he clearly felt the call of her body, as if gravity itself was guiding him there. He didn't wait for her, delving between the warmth of her plush thighs. Eagerly licking a streak along the length of her spread cunt, his tongue purposely lavishing the saccharine flavour of her. Drawing light airy mewls from her as her hands floundered down at her sides. Fingers padding the fur blanket beneath her before she opted to grip onto it instead. 

Her legs were squirming already, he'd barely even begun and Rhaena already seemed to be fighting the urge to squeeze her legs around him.

It was enough to cause his cock to throb dangerously within his breeches, his heart burning with a sense of pure desire. He felt greedy with it all, that aching irritation of his gave way to the pace of his tongue working her almost ferociously. Licking along her delicate folds, trailing his tongue around her apex, flicking the tip of his tongue against her there- 

There, Rhaena's hands finally reached for him. With a sharply pitched moan, she slid her fingers through his hair and tugged, "s-stop, wait...wait," 

In truth, he had no interest in stopping at all. 

Not when he could get her there, not when he was finally feasting on her just as he'd wished to. Besides, it wasn't as if he could see the expression on her face at this very moment. With his own fingers tightly squeezing the soft pudge of her inner thighs, from his angle kneeling before. Her later-term belly was truly blocking his view of her entirely, he could see the top slumped peaks of her breasts...but her facial expression in this moment would remain a mystery. 

And so if all he could do was judge her words based on the sound of her voice, the breathy needy call for him to wait or stop. Said with the blatant undertones of a woman who was in the midst of experiencing immense pleasure. 

Stop?

Hmmm...he thought not. 

Playfully, he grinned as he dipped the tip of his tongue into the sweet heat of her. Drenched in her syrupy wetness, the point of his nose nudging her clit in time with his ministrations. It was enough for her to cry out, whining his name even louder this time, "Aemond!" 

Perhaps he was toying with her, but he couldn't deny this...that he loved nothing more than this. Burrowing himself within her one way or another. 

"Aemond...mmm...I do not wish to play this game, I would rather the simple answers," she fussed against him, pulling his hair even harder... finally causing him to hiss with the strain. 

Aggravating little thing, could she not simply take his tongue with gratitude. 

With a huff, Aemond grinded his jaw slowly. He wanted a better position, one with more purchase and control over her body. So he feigned compliance, slipping his tongue from her in the slowest most agonizing way possible. Savouring the honeyed taste of her, happily relishing the bright gasping breath she took as he did. He chuckled to himself there, licking his lips as he slowly pulled himself from between her legs. Nearly climbing atop her, Aemond lowered himself over her, gazing into her eyes he murmured, "the game's already started, sweet girl. And you haven't given me anything yet. That’s no trade at all." 

With a sob, she surely felt his fingers reach below. Sliding between her wet folds, causing her to bite her lip as her brows furrowed, "oh! But you've already had a taste, that's good enough!" 

"Mmm," he smirked devilishly, nuzzling his nose against hers, "now now, little wife. You're only stalling, you know this game better than that. If you want pertinent information from me, you'll have to give me more than a simple taste," 

With a smooth slip of his fingers, he brought his damp index and middle fingers to his lips purposely sucking off her glistening arousal. The look in her eyes as they widened at the sight of it, eyeing him with a fixed almost hypnotized stare. 

As if she’d seen him do this very thing, the countless times she’d watched him pull his fingers from her delicate wetness before sucking the remnants with pure fervor. 

In a fluid motion, Aemond used that very same hand to caress her jaw, leading her lips up to his. Deepening their kiss with the dexterity of his tongue tangling with her own, feeling the instant access to her mouth as she tasted herself upon his tongue. As her hands slid along his shoulders, he parted from her briefly, humming against her lips, "settle up here... I'm not done with you yet." 

As he spoke, he guided her body further up along the bed. Pulling down the fur blanket, effectively unmaking the bed as Rhaena finally obeyed his commands. Eyeing him the entire time as she moved to shed the remnants of her gown and undergarments down to the floor before she laid herself closer to the head of the bed. Resting herself horizontally amongst the nest of pillows they had there. 

And for a moment he couldn't help the way his gaze had lingered on her form. Laid out and splayed to him...in truth the very image he'd been most keen to return to ever since he left her this morning. It felt as if he'd been away for ages, like a warrior kept from home....even though there was no battle to speak of and he'd made the blunderous choice to leave all by himself. But he had her now, and she looked the picture of perfection. Like a painting of old, the erotic sketches of a goddess. She quite literally had the form of an image he'd seen once before. Deep within the pages of an old text he'd read a few years back, the original writer's envisioned idea of the fertility Goddess, Meleys. 

What she might have looked like if she'd taken the form of a woman.

Beyond Rhaena's naturally curlier hair and refined beautiful features, the image seemed nearly exact in his mind. Down to his wife’s lovely deep skin tone, her splendid figure, those wide curving hips and thighs, laid so prettily upon their bed. With the impeccable abundance of her plump bosom, the intoxicating roundness of her swollen belly. The bright sun still spilling over her, the luminous shimmer of her silver hair, the way her pale lilac eyes shone like jewels. 

Everything about her was calling him to her like a siren…like a spell. 

If he'd subscribed to the ideals of The Seven as faithfully as he once did...all of this coveting would feel far more sinful. To carnally want a woman with child this badly...his woman, his wife…carrying his child. 

Such distinctions would not have mattered to The Mother, surely, it was all a sin in her eyes. Said to feel displeasure towards any such depravity no matter the specifics. Yet, it all mattered so little to Aemond now, when he was with her. He could do away with thoughts of the Faith in the presence of Rhaena Targaryen. She had a knack for clouding his mind, his judgement…to focusing on one end alone. 

And to his near wonderment, here she was finally beckoning him to come to her. 

"Come then, dear husband, let us play the game," Rhaena's eyes practically glowed, her lips twisting into a bright little smile. 

His siren's song.

Notes: LMAO that breeding kink is really FRONT and center, the lactation kink will be coming too!!

Chapter 5 is in the works, but I do still have to write it! I've plotted out the sequence of events...but estimatation for completion wise, idk. I'd really like to finish it this week. We shall see!

[sunnysideaeggs]

I finally found out why the Laena/Daemon match made me so uncomfortable 😵‍💫

Are you really going to tell me that a little girl went from this:

To this:

In three years? 🧐🧐🧐

It makes me so upset that hotd makers really casted another actress for Laena making a 16 yo effectively look ‘elder’ and ‘grown up’ and ‘seeking’ Daemon. They’re actively feeding stereotypes about girls of color growing up faster, wanting men’s attention earlier or being ‘more developed’ than their white counterparts. Alicent and Rhaenyra, two characters who are in universe older than Laena, kept their actress after the time lapse.

Laena Velaryon’s age and appearance seems to fluctuate however it’s more convenient for Targaryen men. She’s just a cute kid when Viserys is searching for a wife, making Alicent the ‘more sensible’ choice. She’s a beautiful young woman when Daemon needs to get away from Rhaenyra for a bit. She’s a middle aged woman who’s getting boring when he needs to come back.

Also, why did they change the actress (again!) after the time lapse? Only 12 years passed, at most. And teen!Laena is 16.

Are you really going to tell me she looks 28? Don’t get me wrong, Nanna Blondell is beautiful, but she, as she should, looks her age (37). Laena didn’t need another actress for just an episode, showcase her youth and the tragedy of being a placeholder in Daemon’s life (who, btw, didn’t age a day. I’m starting to think he keeps himself youthful by feeding on little girls.)

Alas, it really bothers me. As a young woman of color, it always pisses me off whenever people find excuses to sexualize woc and especially prey on young girls. It’s even worse when big entertainment companies feed into it.

[blackcat419]

To add to this, the casting director most definitely looked for an actress older than Emily and Milly (about 19/20 at time of shooting). Laena’s teen actress, Savannah Steyn, was about 25 during filming. Because Emily and Milly set what a 14-18 year old looks like in this universe, it’s so telling that they chose an actress much older than the set age for the show.

So the HotD casting directors did choose to make Laena look visually much older by casting an older actress. The costume designers also made her look ‘more mature’ with her really low cut gold dress which we never see anything similar to in the show. All this to make the 16 year old Laena less visually a child so general audiences are okay with Daemon presuming a girl younger than Rhaenyra.

[mejcinta]

This is why I don't trust these people with Nettles. They keep doing fucked up things to black female characters or to justify and excuse the actions and choices of white characters. 😕

[thesunfyre4446]

"i spared you, you were a child" said daemon to rhaenyra after he married laena - who was even younger than rhaenyra.

that's a very disturbing line to me.

laena is so casually dismissed by the writers. it doesn't matter she was also a child, it doesn't matter she wasn't "spared". she's not even a person to them, she's just a plot device for daemon and rhaenyra, growing up and dying when it's most convenient for their plot.

[hinfthal]

king aegon iii targaryen with his wife, queen daenaera velaryon

[dracaryxzs]

MY BITCH POSE IS NYEASTYYYYYY

king aegon ii everyone

credits to: liv kate cooke’s instagram

[qyburnsghost]

How his legs got up there like that omg

[mochadoe]

NO! Cuz why is he eagle spread like a stripper right there???

[thewitchqueenofharrenhal]

“You don’t care about Aegon’s happiness if you ship him with Jaehaera! Daenaera made him happy!”

Okay but like why would I care about a man’s happiness 🥱

“There’s nothing written about Jaehaera!” “There is more about Daenaera!”

There is very little written about both but Jaehaera had a dragon named death, was the last legitimate princess of her side in a war that decimated her house, Was severely traumatized, was probably a neurodivergent princess since birth, loved by the smallfolk for her bravery

And Daenaera made her husband happy and had all his kids 😐

I wonder whyyyyyyy some people find the possible dynamic between Jaehaera x Aegon more interesting 🙄

[mochadoe]

We know why. Aegon giving Jaehaera's doll to Peake's daughter was sad tho. Daenaera clearly made Aegon3 happy... They want Jaehaera because Daenaera would be BLACK now.

[thewitchqueenofharrenhal]

Why would Aegon giving a doll away be sad? 😂

Idgaf about women making men happy, it actually makes me cringe 😂 that you losers praise that trad wife rhetoric

Daenaera has always been canonically white 🥱 HOTD has treated the characters they’ve racebent horrifically 🥱 you’re reaching hard.

[mochadoe]

First off, you're a fucking dumbass. Your assumption of what my comment is reflects that peanut size thing you call a brain between your ears. Aegon(A child) giving Peake's daughter Jaehaera's doll is sad because Jaehaera is dead. He gave away his dead cousin's dolly. SECONDLY, Aegon is a sad ass child seeing Daenaera made him happy. They aren't adults. Idgaf what YOU assumed. If anyone is reaching its your rude ass. And we ain't discussing how HotD treats their race bent characters. Ya post was about shipping, remember? Or you got memory issues now? Play with something safe and learn some manners. What is this about women making men happy?? What are you apart of the man hating club? How is a 10 year a man in this situation? Literally, Aegon was depressed never smiled with Jaehaera because adults forced children to get married..... but they're dynamic is more interesting than a happy marriage? Wow OK, sure Jan.

[thewitchqueenofharrenhal]

“You don’t care about Aegon’s happiness if you ship him with Jaehaera! Daenaera made him happy!”

Okay but like why would I care about a man’s happiness 🥱

“There’s nothing written about Jaehaera!” “There is more about Daenaera!”

There is very little written about both but Jaehaera had a dragon named death, was the last legitimate princess of her side in a war that decimated her house, Was severely traumatized, was probably a neurodivergent princess since birth, loved by the smallfolk for her bravery

And Daenaera made her husband happy and had all his kids 😐

I wonder whyyyyyyy some people find the possible dynamic between Jaehaera x Aegon more interesting 🙄

[mochadoe]

We know why. Aegon giving Jaehaera's doll to Peake's daughter was sad tho. Daenaera clearly made Aegon3 happy... They want Jaehaera because Daenaera would be BLACK now.

[littlest-gemini]

King Aegon III and Queen Daenaera Velaryon

[mochadoe]

Rhaemond Fanfic

be warned it's a dead dove do not eat 💀

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[qyburnsghost]

He was so insane for this

[mochadoe]

Yes 😭 he should be in a insane asylum.