Alys Rivers was at least forty years of age during the Dance of the Dragons, that much is known. All agree that she looked younger than her years, but whether this was simple happenstance, or achieved through her practice of the dark arts, men continue to dispute.
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON COUNTDOWN TO SEASON 3
day 4 ➝ favorite new character from season 2
your husband had always been a sweet man, always defending you from others and protecting you from hurt
based of these request 1 , 2 , 3 - prompt 12,13 SFW and 13 NSW
Jacaerys Veleryon x Stark!reader
word count:1,323
CW: MDI, 18 + , smut, oral (f receiving) , fluff. Ulf being a jerk, reader is based of sansa stark, red hair is implied but no other descriptions. Naive reader? (Idealistic Sansa in season 1 of got who actually got her dream prince). Creepy Ulf, derogatory language.
As his mother's heir, Jace knew he was little more than a pawn to be moved around a board, a pawn made to enter into matches and alliances. His entire life, he had known his mother would choose his wife, and he would have little say in who that may be. His wife had been decided scarcely before he truly knew what marriage meant. Alliances were built around him before he could even walk, but when war broke out, everything changed. The betrothal brokered between himself and Baela broke, and he was left traversing the realm, reminding lords and ladies of their oaths. Given his first taste of power and the opportunity to prove himself. And he did, he had houses pledging loyalty, support, and men. And then he arrived in Winterfell, and found himself leaving with more than the pledge of men and support, but with you as his wife.
He had been struck by you the second he saw you, and wed you before the raven announcing your betrothal had even reached Dragonstone. Jace rationalised it easily: you were the half-sister of Cregan Stark, your mother was a Tully, and with you, not only came the North but the Riverlands too. It was an advantageous match, and though his mother had been frustrated, she had wished to leave his hand as a leveraging tool in the war to come, she knew the alliance brought two kingdoms on her side.
The alliance was exactly what Rhaneyra needed, it brought strength, helped to stabilise her cause and made her heir happy.
He loved you dearly. You were beautiful, a little too naive and idealistic, but Jace didn't mind that, no, he loved it. Loved how you observed everything, how you observed everything, how smart you were despite your ideals. His love for you was clear to anyone. So clear that when you arrived on Dragonback to Dragonstone, the rumours began almost immediately.
Rumours that he had only wed you after Cregan had caught Jace in your bed. Rumours that Jace had won the support of the north by sliding between your legs. Rumours that you were a northern whore. Those rumours had reached the smallfolk, including the dragon seeds of Dragonstone.
Ulf the white had a strange sense about him. He was rude and proud and far too arrogant. He acted with a sense of entitlement, an entitlement that had only been gifted to him by the grace of his queen, and yet he took full advantage of it. Advantage enough to corner you.
“It’s surprising Rhaenyra would keep you married to Jace,” Ulf spoke, leaning against the table of the library as he watched you closely.
“Queen Rhaenyra, and Prince Jacaerys, ” you corrected, trying to focus on the book before you, and ignore the man and his unwelcome company “Why would she not permit me to remain married to my husband?”
You looked up, locking eyes with Ulf, a feeling of discomfort washing through you at the look in his eyes. You searched around the room, eyes locking on the door, praying for Jace to hurry up and meet you as he had promised. Ulf smirked, his eyes trailing your body as he walked towards you, “We’ve all heard the truth, how you lured Jace into your bed.”
“That’s not true,” you gasped, standing up quickly, trying to move away from Ulf, who had seemed determined to get closer to you, “those are rumours, nothing more.” You continued to back away from him, your eyes looking to the door as it opened, revealing Jace.
Each step you took, Ulf seemed to follow, his eyes continuing to trail your body, “rumours?” He scoffed, “You're a whore,”
“What did you just call her?” Jace demanded, his voice, the smile he had gifted you as he walked through the door long gone, as his face hardened at Ulfs words.
“Jace-“ Ulf began, a cocky smile on his face.
“Your grace,” Jace corrected, storming towards him, “you are acting above your station,” he spat, his voice like venom. “Now,” Jace spat, waking closer to Ulf, forcing him against the desk he had leaned on earlier. “What. Did. You. Call. My. Wife.” Jace's hand flew to Ulfs shirt, keeping him in place.
You stood to the side watching as Ulf swallowed roughly, his cocky demeanour faltering. “I'm just calling her what she is,” he spat, leaning his head back as if to escape the glare Jace was giving him.
“She is no whore!” Jace raged, pushing Ulf further into the table. “Apologise to her,” he spat, his eye flickering to you, his face red from anger.
“Jace,” you spoke, walking slowly towards him, your voice calm.
His eyes softened at your voice, but the scoff from Ulf had him turning his full attention back to you. He pushed him roughly back into the desk, “apologise,” he repeated, his hands balling into fists on Ulf's shirt. Ulf swallowed, his face flushed, but he made no effort to speak. Jace scoffed, moving back from the desk and slamming Ulf down, “Apologise or I shall have your tongue ripped from your mouth”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes darting to yours as you slowly approached your hand reaching for Jace's shoulder.
“I didn’t hear you,” Jace seethed, slamming him down again.
“I’m sorry!” Ulf shouted, his eyes pleading as he looked at you.
“Jace, he’s not worth it, my love”, you muttered, your hands sliding to his shoulders and easing him off Ulf.
“Get out of my sight,” Jace spat, pushing Ulf as he stumbled out of the library. “Fuck,” he mumbled, turning to face you and pulling you into his chest. “These lowborns claiming dragons are a disgrace,” Jace muttered “, they make a mockery of us, insult us and for what?”
“My love,” you soothed, reaching to place a soft kiss on his lips, “they will be mere footnotes in history, you need not worry about them.”
“But what if they aren’t? They question the crown's legitimacy, they question my legitimacy,” he breathed, his head leaning against yours, his breath heavy as he spoke. “And to question you, my wife.” He scoffed, “How dare he, that mongrel."
“My love, calm yourself”, you breathed, placing a soft kiss to his lips, “you will be a king, and they mere footnotes in history, you should not worry yourself,” you placed another kiss to his lips, “don’t waste your breath on them, you are worth so much more than them,”
He smiled softly against you, his head still leaning against yours as he reached forward to kiss you, “What did I do to deserve someone as sweet as you?” He hummed, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“I only treat you how you have treated me”, you hummed, kissing him once more. “You are the prince every lady dreams of marrying,” you hummed, “I dreamt of a man like you every night.”
Jace groaned at your words, turning you to sit on the desk, “too sweet for me,” he hummed, his hands moving to bunch your dress around your hips, “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he hummed, “how sweet you are, how sweet you taste,” kissing your lips between every word, “your cunt,” he groaned, dropping to his knees as he spoke, “all I can think of is the taste of your cunt” his breath ghosted your heat, a shiver shaking through you at the feeling, “how sweet it is, how perfect,” he groaned into you, pressing soft kisses to your thighs as his thumb reached for your bundle of nerves, rubbing soft circles as it his mouth slowly made its way to your cunt, his tongue swiping a through your folds.
“Jace,” you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth, as he placed another lick down your slit. “Oh gods,” you moaned, as his fingers reached to spread your folds, groaning at the sight of how wet you were. His tongue placed another long lick across the length of your folds. His thumb still circling your clit as his tongue began to feast on you, lapping at your pussy, feasting on you, like a man starved. A loud moan tore through you, your hand falling from your mouth to grip the table as Jace hooked your legs around his head, his tongue fucking you. His hands reached to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to him. Your hips bucked into his face, riding his tongue as he feasted on you.
Moans of pleasure echoed around the library as you rode his face, his fingers swapping with his tongue, a loud gasp tearing through you as his fingers slowly pushed into yo, “so good,” Jace groaned, his voice vibrating through your body, as a wave of pleasure began to wash over you, his fingers thrusting into you as your peak began to wash over you, your back arching off the desk, his name slipping from your lips as you came.
Jace slowly rose from between your thighs, pressing a slow, messy kiss to your lips. “I love the taste of you,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to him.
You hummed, your hands reaching to play with the curls on his head. “So sweet,” he groaned, “so perfect,”
You smiled, tugging his hair to have him look at you, “You're sweet.”
Jace laughed, pressing another. kiss to your lips, “not nearly as sweet as you,”
“then i’ll hold a funeral for them to attend so they think you’re gone forever.”
when he writes to you in the mists of a war you go see him despite knowing you shouldn’t. he plans to keep you this time.
jacaerys targaryen x hightower!reader. includes smut. 3.5k
The war must have driven you mad.
you think your eyes are deceiving you when you see a bird perched on your open window. the light from the moon framing it perfectly, what catches your eye the most however is the neatly tied string around its neck.
there's a small scroll attached to it.
you should ignore it. how did this cute little thing go unnoticed by the plethora of guards lining the castle walls? it patiently waits for you, staring at you as it shakes its wings lightly waiting for you to take the string you are trying to ignore. it chirps when you raise a finger to scratch the top of its head.
there is only one person who could be writing to you these days.
you should not take it. it would be stupid to.
the bird flies away as soon as you rip the string from its neck. its gets shot down soon after departing your window.
your window closes with a soft click as you walk away from it. the scroll dances around your fingers as you play with it, still sealed.
your bed makes a small creak as you flop down onto it. the fabric swimming around you but your eyes are solely locked onto the wax of the small scroll. a small feather sigil sits in the center of it, your thumb lazily rubs over it.
you think of your father in the room next to you probably fast asleep by now. you think of your aunt probably in her bed chamber with the dornish hand on top of her. you think of your cousins littered around the rest of the castle. you should not open it, not for your sake but for theirs.
the seal breaks open unceremoniously. your hands are slow when they drag the scroll open to read over its contents. you were shocked to see it written in the common tongue. you did spend years learning his ancestors language to be able to communicate with him in secret after all. once you have read the letter it makes more sense why.
'i am thinking of you. i am always thinking of you.
if you are thinking of me meet me at our spot.
ill be waiting for you.'
no name is attached to it.
if this letter had been caught it would have simply looked like an innocent love letter and it could not be traced back to you. traced back to him.
your fingers trace over the words so many times they begin to smudge. you knew exactly who this was from. you knew exactly what spot he was referring to. a small little clearing near rosby on the edge of the reach looking over blackwater bay. there was a small cabin there, when you were younger you and him would sneak off to have a little getaway together. it was so nice for it to just be you and him, for the two of you to be able to pretend you could be something more. where neither of your families mattered. where it could just be you two, together.
you should throw it into the fire that roars in the corner of your room. act like you never received it. what if this is not the first time he had tried to write to you? how long had he been waiting there? how long will he wait there? you wonder how long you would wait there for him. as soon as the answer comes to mind you try not to think about it again.
before you know it you've throw off your nightgown and slipped into an outfit you haven't worn in far too long. you liked to sneak out with your cousin sometimes in the dark of night, you miss the laughter you would share as you walked through the crowded streets, the food the street vendors would only sell that late at night for the drunkards. instead now you have been confined into your room while he laid practically a corpse in his bed no laughter or fun memories to be found.
it would just be for a few days. if your aunt could sneak away somewhere why could you not do the same? you are not as important as she is, as her children are. what was the harm?
then after scratching this itch that's been gnawing at your soul for months now. you could finally be free from this torment that has been plaguing your mind. just this once, then you can be free.
you pack up your untouched dinner which was just some fruits and some bread in a bag you used to keep your jewelry in, leaving the fancy metal spread out on the table. you throw that into a bigger bag with a spare outfit plus a sleeping gown, all the coin you had on you, and a knife your cousin had given you for your nameday years ago.
you slip a letter to your father under his door before you sneak out into the night. you know he will understand in his own way. he hates this fight more than you do. if he could he would run away to but he is far too loyal to his sister. the guards were too busy guarding the actually important people. they will not catch you.
the guards outside are trickier but still as incompetent as the rest of them making being able to get outside the castle walls just as easy. there's still a crack in the wall hidden by boxes and barrels just as it was years ago, this is the exact same path you two would use to run off together. this time you are alone, sprinting as fast as you can far far away from the keep. you buy a horse when you get far enough away, when your legs begin to cry and ache for rest.
he sells it to you for cheap. shes old and slow. shes not a war horse so nobody wants her. shes perfect for what you need. if the man knows who you are he says nothing.
you ride until she gets too tired to move. you settle in a small clearing, barely able to keep your eyes open but you can't sleep knowing the dangers that lurk out on the roads and in the woods. the most you are able to get is a couple minutes of shut eye before a noise in the woods wake you. you continue the journey only a couple hours later after boredom begins to take over your body, you regret not taking a book.
the roads and woods are empty much to your relief so you are able to ride around without the heavy cloak covering your face. you only see a few travelers here and there, you exchange no words.
you are so focused on making sure you are not caught you do not even have time to think about what will happen when you get there. it does not even cross your mind this could be some trick, you are the daughter of the brother of the dowager queen. what good would it be to kidnap you?
its dark once again when the cabin comes into view. you can see the flicker of a fire inside.
you lazily tie the horse to a tree before making the walk over to the cabin. your hands shake as you fiddle around with your small bag. you don't know if its from nerves, exhaustion or hunger. you don't have time to care.
you raise your hand to knock on the door before freezing. you never used to knock why would you start now.
the door lets out a loud creak at your arrival. you slowly step in and breath in the familiar air, take in the sight of the familiar walls and furniture. it was nothing fancy, it looks similar to the everyday commoners house but you loved it because it was yours. and his.
the door slams shut. your hands grip at the strap of your bag as you finally spot him. he hasn't turned to look at you. he’s adding more wood to the roaring fire. he looks a little larger than the last time you saw him. you see his sword sitting on the table behind him, it looks like it was newly cleaned. his hair is wet, he likely had just gone to the waters to bath. the gray tunic he wore was covered in small dark wet spots, more forming as his hair dripped onto it.
"im home."
its what either of you used to say when had just come back from being out. this was not your home. but it felt like it more than any other place you had lived. if you had gone to wash yourself or he had gone to get some food you two always tried to greet each other when you got back. when you came home.
he turned his head, his side profile was always so stunning. you can see him fighting a smile from his face. he stands, turning to face you fully. he looks very different from the last time you saw him. his hair is long and curly, his shoulders and arms wider and bigger. but he is still the man you remember, the boy you still have that childish affection for.
he's in front of you before you know it. he reaches towards your bag and you let him take it from you. he places it gently on the table before turning back to you. you move to take off your cloak before you suddenly freeze. you had never worn something so ugly in front of him, you always tried to wear your best when you knew he would be around, you remember your father laughing at you when you insisted on wearing your nice dresses, you would also ignore the looks his sister gave you when you did.
he reaches for your cloak for you when you don't. he lays the fabric on the table next to your bag before stepping closer to you. he grabs your hands and brings them up to his face, stopping to kiss the skin of your palm before placing them on his cheeks.
"welcome home."
you collapse into him. your body finally catching up with the fact you haven't slept and eaten for awhile. his presence has lulled you back into that state for relaxation you always seem to get whenever he's around. he presses you tightly against him. your face nests into the crook of his neck while he presses his face into the side of your head, deeply breathing in your scent.
he gently lifts you off the ground and leads you to the bed. you fall asleep the second you hit the pillow with his arms wrapped around you.
the bed is cold when you wake. the sun is already nearly setting by the time you wake. his sword has disappeared but the fire his still roaring. he folded your cloak and had clearly gone through your bag. the spare clothes folded neatly next to the cloak and the bread and fruits you brought placed on a plate next to you. the knife you had brought laid on the kitchen counter covered in fish scales next to the newly cooked fish on the counter. you realized you had been changed into your sleeping gown. a flush of embarrassment rushes through your body as you realize he had changed you.
he comes back soon after you start picking at the nearly stale bread. he had the clothes you had been wearing in his hands, they were damp he had probably just washed them. he clips them onto a wire you had strung around the room the last time you were here to dry your clothes before picking up one of the fishes and bringing it over to you.
"you should eat."
you sit with your back against his chest in front of the fire while you eat. he massages your sides gently while the two of you sit in silence. its so peaceful here with just the sounds of the crackling fire and the birds chirping outside neither of you can break the silence. you should talk about it. about why you're here. about the war. about how you'll need to leave.
but you don't. after you're done eating you let him carry you back to the bed where he lies down with you. the two of you are laying face to face, he brings one of your legs to lay over his as he wraps his arms around you. "what did you do today?"
he hums his hands softly massaging your skin as he presses his forehead to yours. "just hunted a bit. then i washed some of our clothes. organized the place, i wanted to do it before you arrived but you showed up earlier than i expected." you place a kiss to his cheek with a soft hum, "im sorry."
he shushes you, pecking the skin around your face with kisses. "im just so happy you're here." kissing and touching each other skin is easy, because there's no commitment. you've never kissed his lips. because kissing his lips would mean committing to something more. something your family has never allowed you to have.
the two of you lay together in silence other than the sounds of soft pecks along your skin. soon enough his kisses stay longer on your skin. his hands grow tighter and roam more freely along your skin. you press yourself closer to him, your body burning as his lips begin to suckle at your neck.
his name leaves your lips in a desperate plea, unsure of what you're even asking for. he groan lightly as his hands run down your body to your legs where they slide up under your gown. he lightly nips at your collarbone while his hands play with the fabric of your underwear. the room suddenly full of your little whines and soft moans. you've never gone this far with him, you never let yourself dream of being this close to him.
his lips leave your skin as his forehead comes back to yours. his breath heavy as his fingers lightly dip under the fabric of your underwear. not dipping too low, but lightly toying with the hair as he loudly gulps, clearly trying to hold himself back. you say his name again. the two of you lock eyes.
your first kiss with him is full of hunger. full of years of desire that had been buried below the surface rising up like the tides and crashes over you two.
his fingers are cold when they push inside of you. they're nothing like your own. his are coarse from his years of sword work, they're longer and bigger. though you know he is getting no pleasure from this you could be fooled into thinking so by the way he is groaning into your lips.
he only pulls away from your lips when you reach you peak. you wish you could admire his blissed out face and swollen lips but your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes from the pleasure pulsing through your body.
the two of you take a moment to catch your breaths. he presses a couple quick pecks into your lips as his wert hand moves your underwear down just far enough down your thighs to expose you. he pulls his own trousers down to his thighs, you look to at his hand lightly stroking his hard cock a needy whimper escaping your lips.
he shushes you lightly with a kiss as his free hand grips the leg you have throw over his waist pulling it even closer to him before he slips inside of you. its unceremonious in the best way. you don't ache or scream in agony. you feel full, you feel complete. your bodies rock together in a quiet symphony. the room fill up with the sounds of the creaking bed while jacaerys eagerly swallows every sound that tries to leave your throat. his hand grips your thigh tightly as he continues to rock into you.
his head falls to your shoulder when his hips begin to move more urgently. you let out a loud cry when you feel him spend inside of you as he bites your shoulder. yours follows quickly after his. once your heart stops racing you fall back asleep. when you wake the next morning he's still inside of you. he takes you again soon after you wake but he lets you lay on your back this time.
you spend that day blissfully together. you spend some time laying together at the waterside where he takes you in the sand, you tell him off with a smile about how gross you felt covered in sand. you take a very long soak in the water while he goes to hunt for some dinner. you offered to go with him but he refused, he was always the independent type. especially since he loved to prove to you he could provide for you.
he caught a hare that the two of you split that night. you feel asleep with a smile on your face as you feel him kiss all around you face. you were so happy just the two of you you had almost completely forgotten about the world outside.
almost.
"we'll need to go back soon." you had been so lost in bliss that his words froze you in your tracks. the plates you had been holding almost drop from you hands. it was early the next morning. you two had just finished eating and you were cleaning up while he was fiddling around with your knife. you should have known something was up. he had been much quieter this morning than usual.
you keep your back to him as you mindlessly stare at the empty plates. he's right. you should head back. your aunt is probably worried sick. you'll have to think of a creative story to come up with that you got kidnapped in some black camp. if you got pregnant you could say you were out for a few days something could have happened while you were sleeping. that would be simple enough. you would just have to cut yourself up a bit before you headed back.
"i do not want to leave you."
you flinch as his arms wrap your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder. "my love, what i meant is we need to return to dragonstone. together." you turn in his arms to face him, alarm clearly showing in your eyes while he looks calm as ever. the idea had crossed your mind of course it had. escaping the keep and running off somewhere else was always on your mind as you laid dormant in your cold room. but you couldn't dream of something like that, it would be foolish. this whole thing was foolish.
"but… my father…his sister." the implications of the words you're saying are not lost on him. they would look for you,not your father, he would cover for you for as long as he could. you would not be shocked if they had already fabricated some story about how his family had stolen you and done horrible things to you. maybe even killed you. "wouldn't everybody be worried about me?"
he's quiet for a moment. he has a small pout on his face and you try not to smile. he's thinking, probably too hard by the look on his face. his hands move to cup your face as his eyes glaze over with affection. “then I'll hold a funeral for them to attend so they think you’re gone forever.”
maybe the war has caused him to go a little crazy. it seemed like such a crazy idea when he first said it. so crazy to the point you actually look a step back from him and he flinched. yet the more you thought about it the less crazy it seemed. death was freedom in a sense. if they thought you were dead you would not have to return to that dreaded castle with those awful people. the war of who deserves the throne mattered not to you. the only thing that mattered to you was the person standing in front of you.
"my father is to be spared once all is said and done. and nobody on dragonstone is to know im there except those you truly trust." your father would likely know the truth of the matter. he knew the kind of man jacaerys was and the kind of girl you are. he would not tell on you. and you did not wish to deal with the dramatics of the people on dragonstone.
before you know it you're on your horses back. your bag once again wrapped around your body as your arms wrapped around jacaerys waist while he guides you to a large clearing where his beloved vermax was seeming sleeping. its been a long time since you've been on a dragon back, you were not too fond of it the height made your stomach curl.
yet somehow all the way high in the sky with jacaerys you feel at peace, just you and him above the clouds
