Summary: After yet another battle in the arena, Harwin braves up the chance to ask her on a walk. (Gladiator!Harwin)
WC: 405
Warnings: blood, fluff
Read on ao3!
Character now added to my tag list!
Blood splattered across Harwin's chest as he strutted away from the crumbling arena. He fought hard and mighty against his opponent—another gladiator. He assumed nothing would come of this fight, just another pathetic criminal fighting for his innocence. But Harwin didn't allow anyone to win besides himself. He couldn't die in that wretched place. He wouldn't allow himself to.
Sand and blood dribbled down his openly wounded chest as he walked through the tunnel to the medic room. His body ached, and surely, he'd be called to battle another poor man who did another crime.
But all his thoughts and worries ceased as he sat down on the wooden chair and faced her, the beautiful woman who would nurse all of the arena survivors. She treated him for the last few months, but Harwin never knew her name or where she originated from. She hardly spoke except apologising if she dug too deep into a wound she tried to stitch for him.
Flakes of dried blood and sweat coated every inch of his skin, and he made a mental note to take himself to the bathhouse before the night's end. He tried ignoring the stabbing of the instruments the nurse used to fix him. He tried to focus on how soft her skin felt on him.
He tried to imagine what life would be like with a beautiful woman like her next to him. He imagined a world where he was rich and lived a royal life. He wished he didn't live a life of crime. He wished he could leave the arena. But no, the guards that surrounded the arena would kill him without a second thought.
So he went back to thinking of a life of luxury, children to call his own, and a wife to share a life with. He hadn't realized the patchwork was over until she cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, motioning for him to stand up.
"Thank you," he said as he turned around to look at her. He stretched his limbs, groaning at the horrific pain he felt in his left shoulder blade, knowing that he probably would need more stitching on the wound. "Say, ma'am?"
She met his eyes silently as she stood up and wrung out the blood from her medical supplies.
"Walk the town with me tonight, yes?" he asked, curling the corner of his lip as she nodded in response.
You can write headcanons about Lucerys, Jacaerys, Aemond and Aegon when is pregnant wife gets hurt (maybe she falls or bumps into something or someone)
— pairing : aegon targaryen ii x pregnant!reader, aemond targaryen x pregnant!reader, jacaerys velaryon x pregnant!reader, lucerys velaryon x pregnant!reader.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Aegon Targaryen II :
: ̗̀➛ Aegon would just go hysterical when he finds out you got harmed while being pregnant with his child.
: ̗̀➛ You might be the first woman he ever truly loved. The one that comforted him in every occassion, that truly understands him, supports him - and now, you are with his child. It would be too much for him if anything was to ever happen to you, or your child.
: ̗̀➛ If anyone was the cause of your injuries, being a bit hysterical, he would be absolutely ruthless. Without hesitating, he would probably just smash the persons head either against a wall, or against a table, just like he did with Lucerys when he returned to King’s Landing and they all fought.
: ̗̀➛ ^^ And saying he would only get this phsyically aggresive with the person is truly an understatement. Just expect him to make the persons life a living hell, and then he would go to you like a worried little puppy.
: ̗̀➛ Aegon could have just overreacted a little bit, as you turned out to be okay, but he can’t just act careless when something happens to you. Sweet boy would just praise you a bit too much, rambling about how worried he was. Please just hold this pathetic man in your arms and tell him you are, and will always be okay.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Aemond Targaryen :
: ̗̀➛ This boy is a bit more reserved when it comes to showing his emotions. I think Aemond would just keep a straight, stern expression even if he’s panicking on the inside.
: ̗̀➛ First things first. When he meets the maester and you in your chamber because you are getting your health checked, Aemond would surely speak to the maester first and hear what he has to say about your accident.
: ̗̀➛ You did get a bit harmed, some bruises, but nothing too serious that could potentially harm you or the child. So, you could definitely notice him release a deep huff of relief, and his body would become a bit less 'stiff'.
: ̗̀➛ Afterwards, when you finally get to be alone together, Aemond would just tell you to be more careful. Not because he thinks you’re clumsy, or because he’s scolding you - but rather, because he can’t bear the thought of losing the possibility of forming a family with you, the love of his life. Aem just cares too much, and has his own ways of showing his love.
: ̗̀➛ Either way, he will just stay by your side, comforting you for the little fright you got. Tons of kisses and smooches, plus sweet whispers of how good of a mother you will be.
: ̗̀➛ However, if someone bumped, or even worse, pushed you, fear not. Vhagar will take good care of it, without you having to even find out what happened, or worrying about anything. Do expect to have him as your little private stalker, following you around or keeping an eye on you everywhere just to make sure you will always be okay, without you knowing.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Jacaerys Velaryon :
: ̗̀➛ Jace will bomb you with questions as soon as he hears you got hurt while being pregnant. Concerned questions that... Overwhelm you a bit. Unlike Aemond, none of the two Velaryon boys would bother in hiding their worry over your health.
: ̗̀➛ Questions like: are you okay? What happened? Did you fall with something? Did someone bump into you? Are you feeling dizzy? Has a maester seen you already? What did the maester say? Is the babe alright?
: ̗̀➛ He just asks too much, to the point you can barely respond to his questions properly. But, you understand. Much like Aemond, ever since he found out you were to be parents together, he became even more overprotective of you than usual.
: ̗̀➛ Jace would immediatly take hold of your hands and sit by your side while you await for the maester to arrive, and he will attentively listen to you answering his questions.
: ̗̀➛ Of course, the babe was alright and so were you. Luckily there was no harm made. Either way, if someone bumped into you instead of you falling, Jace needs to know who it was just in case that person did it on purpose.
: ̗̀➛ ^ gods, his face would literally twitch in anger at the thought of it.
: ̗̀➛ And if someone did bump into you on purpose? Jace wouldnt be reluctant in finding them, and getting physical. But of course, after spending time by your side with a relieved, content expression on his face.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Lucerys Velaryon :
: ̗̀➛ The second Luke is informed that you hurt yourself, sweet boy would immediatly drop whatever thing he is doing just to rush to stay by your side, holding your hand and filling your face with concerned kisses.
: ̗̀➛ The idea of being the father to your children is something he can’t get enough of; so knowing you either fell/bumped into someone just leaves him at the verge of a panic attack.
: ̗̀➛ Will ask you a thousand of times if you’re okay, how are you feeling, and will also make sure to bring the best maesters to check on your and the child’s wellbeing.
: ̗̀➛ Of course, nothing bad happened. It was just a clumsy little moment, and both you and the babe are doing more than excellent. Literally, it was just a little spook.
: ̗̀➛ Either way, Lucerys will insist on staying by your side and just showering you and your precious little baby with his endless love.
: ̗̀➛ Basically, you’re his top priority. No matter what the situation was, Luke will always make sure to check on both of your wellbeing first, before having a talk about being more careful around you with whomever bumped into you (if, for example, you bumped into someone).
: ̗̀➛ Little love dragon would be EXTREMELY concerned the moment he finds out you got hurt, but oh, his face will turn into a relieved and joyful one when both of his treasures are alright. Maybe will also turn a bit more overprotective than he already is. As long as you are alright, he would pay no mind to the rest of the world. Luke would just rather stay with you, and your child. 💜💙
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: House of the Dragon (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Baela Targaryen/Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen & Jacaerys Velaryon
Characters: Baela Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Jacaerys Velaryon Lives, though he wishes he didn't, Suicidal Thoughts, Sort Of, Episode: s03e01 Salt and Sea Fire and Blood (House of the Dragon), Battle of the Gullet (A Song of Ice and Fire), Mother-Son Relationship, and whatever else is going on with jace and rhaenyra, Angst
Summary:
Baela’s not sure if she even told Moondancer to dive when she saw Vermax splash into the water, but her wonderful beloved dragon had never dived as fast as she did just then.
Neither was she sure then exactly what happened. At some point while she was still too far away Jace had gone under— strapped to his sinking dragon she knew— but he must have come up again. Moondancer practically went under as well in her haste, frigid water splashing into Baela eyes, soaking her clothes as she grasped blindly in the dark water. It was so cold she could barely feel her arm.
And somehow, by some godly stroke of luck, her hand gripped something, was gripped back, and Moondancer exploded out of the water at her command, arrows whizzing by them just barely.
or
Jace survives the Gullet. Now he has to live with what he's done.
summary: reader thinks aegon can never be more than a one night stand, and aegon is intent on getting her to give him a chance.
word count: 2.5k
tags: modern!au, smut, drunk!aegon having sex with sober!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, tity sucking, pussy eating, p in v sex, unprotected sex
note: i very much write fanon!aegon, not the canon, show!version.
sidenote: is this lowkey inspired by my irl situationship who wont quit calling me every time he gets drunk?? maybe
it was a regular friday night for aegon. his frat was throwing a big party, and he had organised everything down to the last detail. he had a reputation to maintain after all, known affectionately as the king of parties of dragonstone university. he had already drunk his own weight in alcohol, flirted (and then proceeded to get handsy) with a couple of girls but he’d been too distracted to follow through with any of them.
his mind instead wandered back to a couple of weeks ago, at another party, where he’d met y/n. she’d been chatting to cregan stark, wearing a little black dress that hugged her in the best way imaginable. he knew, looking at her enchanting laugh at stark’s dumb joke, he had to have her. putting on his most charming smile, he’d approached her.
she’d been wary of him because of his reputation around campus (who wouldn’t be) but after a few disarming jokes as his fingertips grazed the side of her thighs, he’d managed to convince her to give him a chance.
drunken steps were then taken back to her dorm room, and they’d had what aegon could only call amazing sex.
now hold on, you have to believe him when he says amazing, alright? he’d slept with too many women to count, after a while the nights blended to the point that he couldn’t much differentiate between what having sex with each of them had felt like. so, when one such night stood out for him? it meant it had met a very high bar indeed. after all, he thought, he didn’t go around spending the night at every girl’s place.
he'd thus expected a little warmer treatment come morning and was rudely shocked at her attempting to throw him out. still, wearing his jeans in such a hurry that its button and fly was undone, unlaced shoes, bare-chested as he held his rumpled shirt in his hand, he’d had the audacity to offer her a lazy grin and promise “i’ll call you.”
“please” she’d snorted with an amused look, “everyone knows aegon targaryen is not the type to call.” taking no note of his offended expression, she’d shut the door in his face.
he’d been wondering about those words ever since. sure, she hadn’t been wrong but, hey, he’d meant the lie this time! with tits that great, ass that perfect, why wouldn’t he want a repeat of last night? he’d thought to himself.
determined to prove her wrong, he’d asked around the frat house and found out her number. but as his hand had hovered over the call button, something had stopped him. she’d caught him spot on, he realised. he wasn’t a relationship guy, and she wasn’t expecting the relationship-thing with him. perhaps it was best he left her alone.
he’d done just that, at least while sober. drunk aegon on the other hand, found it much easier to pick up the phone and dial her number.
“who is this?” there was panic and sleep in her voice, having picked up an unknown number at 2 in the morning “sweetheart! you picked up” he’d grinned, words slurring. he could practically hear the eyeroll on the other end. “aegon… to what do i owe the pleasure?” “i was just missing you.” he sighed. “sure.” nothing in her voice indicated that she believed him.
“i’m actually not far from your dorm. how about i come up with a bottle of tequila and we can… catch up?” he suggestively added. “it’s 2:14 am…. on a tuesday.” she pointed out, but her words didn’t seem to mean much to him as he replied, “so?” an exasperated sigh could be heard over the phone, “good night, aegon.” click. he stared down on the iphone in his hand in disbelief, she’d hung up on him.
he decided maybe he’d come out too strong, so the next time he texted first. he’d stared at the text for a couple of minutes, and when he saw that she was online but hadn’t bothered to text him back, he’d walked over to the nearest girl and proceeded to make out with her in the bathroom. until he was interrupted with a buzzing in his pocket, “just a minute” he’d mumbled against her lips, unbothered by her disappointed expression as he fished for the phone in his pocket hurriedly.
he saw that y/n had finally replied to his ‘u up?’ with a ‘depends.’ his brow furrowed at her response in confusion, he typed back ‘on what’.
the notification arrived with a ping. her response read ‘are u drunk?’. something told him instinctively to lie. he typed out a no, but once the message sent, he realised it had autocorrected to ‘yo’. he corrected it to a no and sent again, only to find the same mistake committed again. it was only after a string of typos had been sent, did he blink and realise autocorrect wasn’t to blame at all, his damn fingers just refused to cooperate with his inebriated brain.
ping. after receiving the string of nonsense, she finally replied ‘i got my answer.’ “aegon?” the girl in front of him looked at him impatiently, only to have him grab the handle of the bathroom door, leaving with a quick “gotta go”. he immediately called up y/n as he walked out of the party, but the call went straight to voicemail. all four times.
thus, every night aegon had gotten drunk since, he found himself being distracted by thoughts of y/n, frustrated at her refusing to engage with him.
that night too, once the clock on the wall started to look to him as if it were melting off and his feet seemed to stumble wherever he walked, his brain suddenly thought showing up to her dorm was the best idea ever.
reaching her door, he ran a hand through his hair before knocking. no response. impatient, he loudly whined “y/n! c’mon, open up!” met with more silence. he whipped his phone out, blinking at the bright screen as he concentrated to make sure it was without typos, he sent her a text, ‘m 0utsidee’. he pounded with his fist on the door one more time, before a door opened, but not the one he was standing in front of.
three doors down, y/n stood against her doorframe in her small black shorts, red tank top riding up slightly to reveal skin just above them. “wrong fucking door, idiot.” aegon grinned as he walked towards her. “you’re lucky baela’s out of town for the weekend, otherwise she would have kicked your ass for banging on her door like that.”
ignoring her, he pouted as he leaned his head against her door frame, looking too much like a wounded puppy. y/n felt a tug at her stomach at how undeniably cute he looked. “why don’t you ever pick up my calls?”
“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she asked instead of answering. “what?” he mumbled, confused. “high….why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she slowly repeated, as if talking to a two-year-old. “i’m not interested in someone who needs to be drunk to call me. i don’t want to be your booty call.” she shrugged. his lower lip jutted out further at her response, crease appearing between his brow. oh, gods, y/n found herself thinking, how could someone manage to look this pathetic and this cute at the same time.
“you’re not a booty call.” he groaned in protest. after all, there were enough girls at that party willingly throwing themselves at him, he could have been with anyone, and yet… it was her door his drunken steps had taken the path of.
“go home, aegon. it was a one-time thing. it’s not happening again.” she insisted. her words seemed to have no effect on him, as he placed a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. he bent down to her ear and whispered, his words slurring, “let me show you all the reasons that this should be more than just a ‘one-time-thing’.”
he pressed his lips to hers, softly at first. she didn’t immediately kiss him back, but the feeling of his lips on hers felt more intoxicating than whatever it was that she could smell off his breath, and she found her lips moving against his within seconds. he bit her lower lip playfully, at her response. she parted her lips to allow him to slide his tongue past them. his hand, meanwhile, slid under the material of her tank and travelled upwards, thumb pressing against her nipple as he squeezed her breast. breaking from the kiss for a second, he smirked at her, “didn’t bother wearing a bra to greet me?”. “i was preparing for bed!” she hissed in response. “excuses” he shook his head at her, teasing.
with his hand he lifted her tank to reveal her bare breasts. “aegon!” she attempted to keep her voice low, lest her neighbours wake up to the scene, “we’re in the middle of the hallway, anyone can walk in!” the idea of someone catching them only made it all the more exciting for aegon, “relax.” he told her with a laidback smile.
before she could protest, his head dipped and he captured her nipple in his mouth. a moan escaped her lips at the feeling, and she stumbled back, her back hitting her doorframe. aegon continued his tongue’s assault on her sensitive nipple, one hand gripping her waist to keep her in place, the other reaching behind her to squeeze her ass. her hand held the nape of his neck, as her head was thrown back in pleasure at his actions. she whined when he abruptly stopped.
he kneeled down and his fingers reached up, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs, causing a shiver to go up her spine. chewing on her lower lip in nervousness she weakly said, “we should go inside” but she couldn’t deny that the thought of getting caught made her even more wet. there was a hint of recklessness and danger in his eyes, “where’s your sense of adventure?”. he threw the clothes inside her ajar door, then lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. she audibly gasped as she felt his tongue upon her already soaking pussy.
“aegon…ah!” her hand gripped his hair as his tongue played tricks on her core, her eyes rolling back till she could see stars. his grip on her thigh remained firm, and she was certain she would be waking up with a bruise. “close… so…close…” she had begun to say after a few minutes, feeling her muscles tense, when he stopped.
he stood up and started to undo his pants, freeing his length. he grabbed her by the waist, letting the tip of his cock tease her folds. she was already moaning for him, “want me to take you right here? make you scream my name, till your neighbours come checking?” she swallowed at the thought, lust overtaking her eyes.
“let’s do one thing.” he smiled as if he’d struck upon the most perfect idea, but the gleam in his eyes told y/n it couldn’t be anything good. he turned her around by her waist, hand coming to her front to rub her clit as he whispered in her ear, “you see that door?”. she knew he could only mean the door to the elevator which was the way to enter her dormitory floor. she managed a nod in response, unable to form words as his fingers pressed down on her so ruthlessly. “keep looking at it.” he commanded as he grabbed her hips back to push his cock inside her. “aegon!” she gasped at the feeling.
he entered her completely in one go, pulling out punishingly slow before pushing back in. he continued speaking as he impaled her, “someone’s gonna walk in any moment now…” he teased, “…and see you in this mess… see you bent over, taking me from behind…like a whore” the thought embarrassed her, yes, but what embarrassed her more was that she found herself almost wanting it to come true.
“even when they walk in, i won’t stop.” he threatned, his thrusts becoming faster. “you’ll be on display for everyone to see… to see how well you take my cock.” he gathered her hair in his fist in one hand, and she felt him pulling it lightly. “yes, oh, yes!” she found herself moaning, eyes intently trained on the door. “you’d like that? of course, you would, little slut.” she only whimpered in response, his words bringing her closer and closer to her edge. “you’d love to have everyone see just how well you receive a ‘booty call’” he chuckled. she could feel herself going weak at the knees at his pace and dirty talk.
“aegon… i—ah!” pleasure spread over every inch of her body, as she came all over his cock. he continued to thrust into her, chasing his own orgasm, until he emptied inside of her with a grunt.
her legs felt wobbly as he pulled out of her, turning her back around to face him. “next time i call—” he panted as he spoke, exerted from their activities, “—pick up.” she smirked, in contrast to his dominating actions mere moments ago, his words now sounded more like a pleading request; one she felt gracious enough to grant him as his juice and her own dripped down her legs. “i will. promise.”
his pearly white teeth showed as he grinned at her response, pleased. “oh, but i’m not nearly done with you for the night, just yet.” he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he shut the door behind them as he walked back inside her dorm.
the next morning, she didn’t kick him out like the last time. she let him linger around her bed, aegon placing a trail of kisses down her body as a manner of greeting her good morning. he was needy and showed it by being as tactile with her as could be. yet she felt comfortable with his touches, allowing herself to lie with him for hours, their legs tangled. even as she bid him goodbye from her door, she had to practically tear her lips off his, neither able to get enough of the other.
she felt content as she’d shut her door behind her, leaning against it as she thought back to the night that had passed, when her phone started to ring. she picked it and smiled as she saw the name being displayed, ‘aegon (don’t pick up)’.
“see i am the type who calls. a lot” she laughed at his words through the phone, able to hear him standing right outside the door. “and also the type who does breakfast. what do you say, brunch in an hour?”
Requested Fic
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: dom Alicent and sub Criston journey to the Sand Kingdom to gain the Queen's support for Aegon.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: smut, sub/dom themes, discussed regicide (not aeg or rhaenyra), slight manipulation
ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ:
Request: Can I have smut with alicent and criston and reader please?
⊹♛˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹♛⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚♛⊹
“Why should I help you?” You asked. Your eyes were cold and your eyebrows high. With your husband in bed, illness heavy in him, you have been seating his throne in the Sand Kingdom for quite some time now. When you first heard that there was a war being waged in the Seven Kingdoms, you had not expected a visit from the Dowager Queen and Hand of the King but they stood in front of your throne now. It shocked you when she bowed to you with him. Scepticism highlighted your face. “We have much to offer you.” She answered coolly. You roam her appearance - she looked graceful and the picture of regality but you did not expect her to be so close to your age. You tipped your head - curious. “And what could that be?” You responded, your leg dangled over your other one. Alicent kept her head high and looked around at your many guards. She heightened her right brow and you flicked your hand in dismissal at them. They left with hard footsteps and confused glances. Alicent let out a breath she did not know she was holding and Criston kneeled.
Alicent took a slow walk toward you. “You and I are very alike.” She stated. You leaned back in your throne, hands splayed on the golden arms. “We are? How so?” You asked. You expected her to smirk or react but she did not, she only stopped at one of the steps and stared into your eyes. You could not help but stare at the mix of her boldness and polished appearance. “Your husband is dying.” The sharp words do not have the affect people would expect. You did not react, you just stayed seated and calm. One tingle of nervousness threatened your position but your face stayed cold as stone. “My own husband died.” Alicent continued, stepping closer again. “And it made me glad and I suspect you will feel the same.” That grasped your attention between her fingertips. Interest pulled you closer. Your eyebrows raised and she knew that she had chosen the right tactic. “Oh?” She nodded and made the rest of her journey to meet you on the top of the steps. She towered over you for only a second before sinking to her knees. “He was much older than you when you married, this was the same for myself although I was not being courted by someone else.” You tensed. Not many people, royal or not, had been bold enough to mention your dear Devyn. You steel yourself. “Tread careful, your majesty.” You almost growled.
She did not take much notice, instead she inched close and took your hand to her lips. She placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Although, had you not married the King, you would not have met your loyal maidservant.” You immediately freeze. “I confess that I do not know her name but I saw you together once…It reminded me of me and the princess in our adolescence. You must miss her.” A lump formed in your throat.
“Yes.” You whisper. It had not been too long since she had been sent away after your husband discovered a rendezvous but it was long enough that you missed her touch. You look down at Alicent’s eyes. “And as I said…” She started again. “We have a gift for you.” When you were about to question what she could be suggesting, you felt your finger make contact with her tongue. She drew your finger into her mouth and circled it. She maintained contact while she sucked your finger in front of her own guard. Your eyes widened and you stayed frozen in shock. Alicent’s tongue ran over and lolled.
She pulled back and wiped the slight drool that left her mouth. Her eyes looked darker than before. “If you help us, we can help you. I’m sure your husband is less satisfactory than you deserve.” She cleared her throat. “And claiming your throne once dies.” A flicker of a smirk hit your lip and it took nothing more for you to take her chin in your hand and bring a kiss to her. Your tongue slid like a snake on her lips and between. “That sounds delightful indeed.” You relent into her mouth. She returns your affectionate act tenfold - she grasps you closer and kisses you hard and rough. Nothing is held back when your permission is granted - her kisses soon turned slackened while she began to lay them to your throat. Breath left and moans circulated your mouth. You watched as her guard, Ser Criston Cole watched on longingly. He was not still on his knee but he did stay firmly still - it made you smirk in exhilaration.
Alicent eagerly reached the shred of fabric that you dared to call a dress. With one nail, she shed it down to your naval. A shocked gasp jumped out of your mouth and your hand dropped to tangle in Alicent’s red hair. You gripped it tightly until she purred at your teat, sucking your nipple into her mouth. Her tongue grazed it. You led your breast into her mouth, arching your back and rolling your body like a wave. Moan falls out of you like water while Alicent goes further and further down your body until she reaches your pussy. Her eyes turned wide and predatory - Alicent cupped the weeping mound. She licked at it like an experimental kitten, her soft tongue daring through the folds and sucking your pearl. No one had ever looked that beautiful you decided. You glanced to her guard over her head.
Criston licked his lips wantonly and didn’t hide from it. She had no doubt either done this before from his tight posture or they had a much closer relationship than the public knew…You did not have time to think more about that because You called out to him - “Ser.” - and wagged your finger in your direction. Criston’s eyes turned wide but he didn’t wait. He followed your lead to you, up the steps to your throne. You pulled him down by his undershirt that peaked just above his armour and brought his head to your neck. You let them spoil you in kisses and soft bites.
It takes no protest for you to undress each other and Alicent climbed onto Criston’s face as your instruction demanded. He pried her legs away from each other and dove his tongue inside of her. Alicent ground into his stubble, moaning at the feeling of it brushing her nerves tantalisingly. Meanwhile, you rewarded him by kissing up to his member. You heard him whine underneath you both and grinned. Your tongue licked up and down in a slow pattern that had Criston’s body contorting almost violently like he was possessed. Your mouth descended finally after capturing it in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked it ravenously. Criston moaned into his Queen’s pussy but did not let it impair his performance. Only after Alicent’s groan of competence, you left his rod-like cock. Your hand reached behind you and rubbed it like you were kneading it while you leant into Alicent and kissed her neck. She sighed into the air and turned her head to you so she could kiss your lips. Criston’s hands gripped your hips to almost bruising degree.
Tantalisingly, you sunk yourself onto Criston and moaned loud enough to shake your whole castle. He returned the display of pleasure by eagerly pleasuring Alicent again with his tongue. “I did it,” You hissed into Alicent’s mouth. You bit her lip and drew it back with you before letting it pop away again. You raised your eyebrow and grinned impishly. “I poisoned my husband. Do you still want to fuck me?” She stared into your eyes for a long minute before taking her hand and kissing you just as viciously as before - nearly more - in answer.
summary: you had grown insecure of yourself and your body, but aemond finds a way to get rid of that insecurity.
pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), mentions of body insecurities, praises, body worship, slight spanking, face sitting, overstimulation
a/n: it’s been so long since i wrote smut so forgive me
Your back hits the wall harshly, Aemond's lips attacking yours feverishly. The kiss was all but gentle. His hands are touching you everywhere. From your neck, your breasts, your hips, everywhere.
His lips felt like he had been starved. Like he was deprived of the feeling of his lips against yours for years and now he's making up for it. Exploring every inch of your mouth as he massaged your breasts, making you whimper in his mouth.
He takes off his tunic quickly before expertly sneaking his hands behind you to undo the fastening behind your dress, swiftly pulling it down while guiding you to the bed.
Your mind suddenly goes haywire when he manages to pull it off. Being left in your undergarments, he pulls those off to admire your body, only for you to gasp and cower in bed and try to shield your body with your arms.
This was the first time you had done this. Both you and Aemond have done the deed more times than you can care to think, but this was the only time he saw you hide yourself. Block out your stomach, cover your thighs, and look away.
"No, no, no, don't hide yourself from me. I want to see you," the hand he grabs yours with was gentle. Pulling it away from your abdomen and the other from your bare center.
He takes a second to marvel at you, his eyes darkening with lust as he kisses up your stomach. Your hands still desperately hiding what you can, but Aemond holds your hands down with one hand. "The prettiest thing. Absolute perfection," he whispers to your skin. His gaze is fixed on yours as he annunciates each word.
"Aemond!" you whine at him, the feeling of his free hand pulling down your brassiere to suck your nipples. You didn't know if you were whining from insecurity or from the want for more.
"Come, sit on my face, angel." He drags you over to him after pulling himself up the bed, laying down on his back. His hands coming over to your hips and quickly pulling you up his firm chest.
Your hands plant themselves on his bare chest, stopping yourself from further going up. His eyebrows knit together in confusion at you.
"I.. I don't think I can sit, Aemond."
"That is not an answer, Y/N."
"I can't! I'm kind of- I'm a little too heavy right now. I haven't-"
Aemond groans, cutting you off. "If it's your cunt that I would be faced with, I doubt I'd care about anything else aside from making sure your legs are shaking."
But you were stubborn. Shaking your head at your betrothed while he holds your hips in a firm manner. Doing your best to not let him pull you onto his face.
You hear him sigh heavily and you think you've persuaded him enough, but he suddenly sat up from the bed, picking you up by your waist before heading to the open area near the couches and chairs.
He sets you down and pulls the full-length mirror towards both of you. Your bewildered eyes suddenly see your naked body on full display in the mirror.
Aemond pulls you in for another rough kiss, tilting your chin up. His hand coming down to circle your drenched cunt as you stood on your knees. His lips smirked into the kiss at the liquid.
You were still caught up in the kiss when he pulled away, and you didn't notice him lying down under you. His hands quickly pull you onto his face without you having enough strength to resist, holding your thighs firmly to stop you from moving away.
"Aemond- fuck!" Your legs quivered weakly when he licked a stripe up your cunt. His tongue lapping expertly at your pussy while his nose bumps into the bundle of nerves that makes you moan.
Your body moves up only to be pulled down onto his tongue. The warm muscle plunging deep inside of you as he explored every crevice. Moans and whimpers filled the room as your hands desperately tried to hold onto something. You closed your eyes harshly as you let your hands be lost in his platinum hair.
Aemond's hands come up to slap your breast making you hiss and clench on his tongue. "Open your eyes, my angel. See how beautiful and extravagant your body is," he mumbles from underneath, peaking to see you slowly opening your eyes.
Your eyes widen slightly at the sight. It was completely erotic. Sitting fully on Aemond's face now, his hands making sure to hold your cunt close to his face as if you weighed nothing. You watch his hand fondle the breast that he just slapped, feeling yourself grow wetter at the erotic sight.
"Oh fuck, I can die in this cunt." He mumbles in your pussy, your body jerking because of the vibrations.
He takes one hand and uses it to circle your clit while he fucks you with his tongue. The other hand guiding your hips to ride his face.
It was strange at first, but you were soon riding his face on your own while his hands occupied themselves with everything from massaging and teasing your nipples to harshly slapping your ass. The room was filled with nothing but lapping sounds, wanton moans, and high-pitched whimpering.
"Don't take your eyes off of that mirror. Watch yourself."
Your eyes desperately watch your reflection as you ride his tongue, his fingers circling your clit in figure 8s. "F-fuck! Aemond, shit- I'm going to-"
"Go on, angel," he says inside of your cunt once more, the vibrations and the way your eyes locked with Aemond's from under you pushing you off the edge as your orgasm comes over you like a strong wave. Your eyes rolling back and legs shaking around his face, threatening to close around his face as you let out a scream. He watches intently at the bliss on your face, allowing your hips to slow down as you come down from your high.
He suddenly plunges his tongue inside of you once more, making you scream out loud in surprise. As your chest heaved up and down, the man licked you clean, his hands easing the probably reddened muscles of your ass.
"You taste heavenly. Gods," he moans deeply. Your hole clenching around nothing at the sound of it.
"This fucking body," he rasps, as he gropes your breasts with one hand while he moves the other up and down your body. "...is so perfect. The most beautiful thing inside of the realm and all mine."
Your cheeks heat up at his comment, trying to fix his hair that you have messed up from your orgasm earlier. You thought it'd be nice to return the favor, but he merely smirks at you. Pressing up a wet kiss towards your clit.
"Aemond, I'm still sensi- Oh! Fuck, feels so- shit- so good." Aemond smirks smugly at this, inserting two fingers inside of your wet hole while he flicks your clit with his tongue.
You tried to pull yourself off once again, the feeling too overbearing as you had just came from your orgasm, but his arms were too strong. Each feeling of his tongue's swipe, lick, and suck now heightened with the recent orgasm he gave you. His long, slender fingers hit just the right spots, making you moan like a whore in a brothel.
"Look at yourself. Look at how fucking beautiful you are, angel." He purrs and you glue your eyes towards the mirror once more. The sight made you clench again around his fingers as you met each thrust with a buck of your hips.
"Gonna come again, huh, angel? Will you give me one more?" He inserts another finger inside of you, the satisfying stretch making you wail.
"Of course you will. You’re doing so well right now, angel. So, so, well.”
Your head goes into circles with his praises as you release once more, now on his fingers. The older smiles proudly as he lets you ride out your orgasm before pulling out his fingers with a lewd pop. He sticks his fingers inside his mouth, his eye boring into yours as he did, and you swear you felt yourself come back for the third time just from what he did.
You try to pull yourself up once his hands loosen, the glistening liquid covering his mouth to his chin, some even on his nose. You pull him into a kiss, tasting your release on his tongue. When you pulled away, you tried to get up before falling down. Your legs too weak from your consecutive leg-shaking orgasms.
When his arms manage to catch you before falling down on his face, you feel your heart drop when he grips your thighs tightly.
"How about one last? You can give me one more, right, angel?"
Fics I’m planning on posting throughout the next two weeks:
- Aegon Targaryen Modern Headcanons (SFW)
- Jace x Reader Halloween party fluff/smut. They are dressed as Romeo + Juliet 1996. Jace is a knight and his girl is dressed as an angel
- Cregan x Reader Halloween party smut. Bathroom sex. Cregan is dressed as the big bad wolf and his girlfriend is dressed as a very sexy red riding hood
- House Sitting snippet. Jace x Reader smut
- Vampire Jace one-shot. Fluff and smut
- Jace x Reader x Cregan threesome. Fluff and smut (obviously)
- Jace x Targtower reader. Jace and Alicent’s daughter fall in love and he tries to save her from her chaotic family. Titanic inspired. Angst and fluff
- Swimming with modern and canon Jace. Fluff and maybe light smut.
- Cregan x Reader smut. Cregan and his wife have a sexy chase through the Winterfell godswood. Sub Cregan
- Cregan x Luke’s twin Reader after Luke’s death by a drunk driver. Angst
- Benjicot Blackwood x reader rivals to lovers fluff
- Baela x Jace. Baela’s life after Jace’s death. Angst
author's note: chapter 2 is finally here! sorry for the wait, I had an exam period, but that is finally over!
cregan stark x oc (she/her pronouns)
warnings: swearing. sentencing. mention of death and murder. spoilers for fire&blood.
The council chamber was dimly lit by the morning light filtering through narrow windows, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and the muted rustle of cloaks as the nobles took their seats. Cregan sat at the head of the table, towering above everyone else.
Benjicot, Oscar and Kermit cautiously observed him. Kermit's fingers lightly drummed against the table as his brother and friend awaited the words of the Lord of Winterfell.
On the other side of the table, the brothers Leowyn and Corwyn Corbray of the Vale sat with anticipation. They'd only arrived that morning in King's Landing after they had received word from Lady Arryn, who occupied a place at the opposite end of the table, her sharp gaze never leaving Cregan.
He let the silence stretch, allowing it to settle over the room. He knew what was coming, the resistance he would face, but he remained fixed.
''Unworthy as Aegon the Usurper might have been, his murder was high treason. Those responsible must answer for it.'' He spoke clearly, his hands clasped in front of him.
The others remained quiet at his words, exchanging uneasy glances with one another. It was a sentiment that most did not share, but none were eager to challenge the northman so directly.
''My lord,'' Benjicot dared to speak up, ''no one here disputes the crime that was committed, but we must consider the realm. Pursuing vengeance will only breed more unrest.''
''What of those who still hold Aegon the Elder's banner? What if they decide to seek a vengeance of their own in response to those imprisoned here?'' Lord Leowyn asked, shifting in his seat.
''There are still pockets of resistance, but they are of little consequence, my Lords.'' Lady Jeyne Arryn responded to his concerns, before Cregan could.
Lord Tully spoke up for the first time, scratching his voice. ''The Dance is done. The war is over, and the realm is in shambles. It is time to make peace.''
The Warden's eyes flicked to Kermit, studying the young boy's tired features. The desire for peace was palpable in the room, but so was the fear of what Cregan might do if his demands were not met.
''The realm must heal,'' he conceded, though his tone remained firm, ''but it cannot come at the mercy of justice. The killers of King Aegon II cannot be allowed to walk free, lest we invite more treachery.''
Kermit Tully’s drumming fingers stopped abruptly. He leaned forward, his expression serious, any trepidation that had manifested itself around Cregan gone. ''Let it be on your head, Stark. I want no part of this, but I will not have it said that Riverrun stood in the way of justice.''
Cregan nodded, somewhat relieved they would stop fighting him on this, even if it was done with heavy hearts and lingering doubts.
''Aegon the Younger will have to make you Hand, my Lord. No lord has the right to put another lord to death. You will need the King's authority to act in his name.'' Ser Corwyn reminded him. If Cregan were to put sentences on the kingslayers' heads, he will at least do so according to the law.
The Warden gave an unimpressed glare to the Corbray knight. He had no desire to undermine the authority of the King, nor to cast doubt on the justice he sought to dispense. The law would be his shield as much as his sword.
''Then it will be done,'' Cregan declared, ''I will seek the King’s authority, and with it, the traitors will be judged.''
The room fell into a heavy silence. The lords and Lady Arryn exchanged uneasy glances but did little more than nod. They could sense the determination in Cregan, a man who would not easily be swayed from his course. Even if they harboured doubts, they understood that any attempt to change his mind would be futile. Cregan held the authority in court now, whether they liked it or not.
''Where is Visenya?'' Bloody Ben asked. He had waited all meeting for her to walk into the room and join them, her empty seat now gathering dust as the council continued without her.
The question hung in the air, drawing the attention of the assembled lords. Cregan looked over to the Blackwood boy, his keen eyes narrowing ever so slightly. It was not only the inquiry that caught him off guard, but the casual way Benjicot referred to Visenya - by her name alone, without her title. Cregan knew that the young lord had fought alongside her, sharing the burdens of war in ways that few others could understand. But even so, the breach in formalities did not sit well with him.
Before he could even think of a response, Jeyne's voice had him beaten again. ''It is curious, isn't it?'' She mused, her tone deceptively light, though her eyes gleamed with sharpness. ''The Princess is not one to retreat without reason.''
She did not know why Visenya had confined herself to her chambers for days on end, speaking to no one but the young King Aegon. However, she had her suspicions, and they pointed directly to the man sitting at the head of the table.
The lords around the table exchanged puzzled glances, not fully grasping the weight of her words, but Cregan understood. Her pointed comment was as much a question as it was an accusation, a way of nudging Cregan to acknowledge his own part in whatever had driven Visenya into isolation.
But Cregan would not allow her to unsettle him in front of the others. ''The Princess will join us when she is ready.'' He replied, emphasising her title as he glanced at Lord Blackwood.
''Or when you are ready for her to join us?'' She'd leaned forward as she asked, further provoking the Warden of the North.
It was uncomfortable to watch, to say the least. The Maiden of the Vale the only one brave enough to somewhat challenge the Wolf of the North. Cregan would respect it if he was not the object of her sharp words. He knew she was testing him, trying to see how far she could push, but he was not about to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
''Whenever that may be,'' his voice was surprisingly calm, ''the council will continue its work. I suggest we resume our other duties now.''
The finality in his tone left no room for further provocation. Jeyne, though clearly unsatisfied, leaned back in her seat, her eyes still fixed on him, as if weighing his resolve.
One by one, the lords rose from their seats exchanging quiet murmurs as they made their way out of the council chamber. The clatter of boots and swords filled the air, the heavy atmosphere easing as the chamber slowly emptied.
Cregan lingered for a moment more, staring at the parchments in front of him. He realised his control over the court was slipping out of his hands. His plans to march on Casterly Rock, Storm's End, and Oldtown had been cast aside, undone by Visenya and Corlys's pacts of peace sent before his arrival. The trials for the traitors in the dungeons was the only thing that remained to him, and he would not let go of it.
The room had emptied, save for one.
Jeyne Arryn had no intention of letting him leave without a final word. She rose from her seat and approached him, her steps slow. There was an air of quiet authority about her, the kind that came from years of ruling her own domain with both strength and wisdom.
''Lord Stark,'' she addressed him, ''a moment, if you would.''
Cregan paused, turning to face her with a guarded expression. He was not in the mood for more of her probing comments, but something in her demeanour told him it would be a bit different.
''What is it you wish to discuss, my Lady?'' He acknowledged, standing up from his chair that scraped against the floor.
She held his gaze, the silence stretching between them for a heartbeat longer than was comfortable. And then, with a tone that was both knowing and subtly accusatory, she spoke a single name.
''Visenya.''
Cregan's breath hitched for a moment, not expecting such an outright answer. The name hung between them like a drawn sword.
''What of the Princess?'' He replied, his voice carefully neutral, though he knew it was a futile attempt to shield himself from whatever insight Jeyne was about to lay bare. Cregan could feel his pulse quicken.
Jeyne tilted her head slightly, a look in her eyes that seemed to see through his composed exterior. ''No one has seen her or spoken to her in days. The court has taken notice, as have I. One might wonder what has driven her to such isolation.''
His jaw tightened, the recurring mention of her absence stirring emotions he had tried to bury. He had thought of little else but her in those silent days, his thoughts a storm of conflicting feelings.
''Perhaps the Princess simply needs time for herself.'' He said, his voice low, though the uncertainty in his tone betrayed him. He didn’t sound sure of himself, and he knew it.
The Lady's gaze softened, feeling somewhat pitiful for him. ''When the council is in need of her mind, she precludes herself? My cousin's daughter does not run when her presence is required by others.''
Cregan's expression remained stoic, his face a mask of controlled indifference. He wasn’t about to let Jeyne, or anyone else, see any sign of doubt or guilt. ''War has taken its toll on all of us, my Lady. I trust the Princess knows what is best for her.''
She noted the evasiveness in his voice. She had seen many men in positions of power adopt this same diplomatic tone, a way of deflecting blame while maintaining an air of authority. But Cregan Stark, despite his best efforts, was not fooling her.
Jeyne's eyes narrowed, her earlier pity giving way to a sharper curiosity. ''Of course,'' she replied, her voice laced with just enough doubt to make it clear she wasn’t convinced, ''But Visenya is not one to retreat, as you have seen for yourself, I am sure. She has been through more than most can bear, yet she always finds a way to press on. So I ask again, what of the Princess, Lord Stark?''
His composure faltered, just for a heartbeat. It was a moment so brief that most might have missed it, but Jeyne Arryn was not most. ''As I said, Lady Arryn,'' he quickly recovered, ''the Princess is taking the time she needs.''
''She is not a woman to be underestimated, my Lord. Nor is she one to leave herself out of decisions that deeply affect her family, such as a potential execution of Lord Corlys Velaryon.''
She was figuring him out despite Cregan not giving anything away, it aggravated him. ''I do not underestimate her, my Lady,'' he said, keeping his tone respectful, ''I know full well what she is capable of.''
Jeyne studied him, letting her eyes wander over his figure. ''Do you?'' She challenged, again.
A flash of frustration crossed his face before he masked it with his usual composure. ''If you are implying something, Lady Arryn, I suggest you say it plainly.''
She chuckled softly, a sound that was more calculating than amused. ''Do not let your sense of duty blind you to what is right in front of you, my Lord.'' Her tone was gentle, more advice than accusation.
Jeyne did not press further, sensing she had said enough. She offered him a faint smile before leaving. The sound of her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way out of the chamber, leaving Cregan alone with his thoughts and maps.
As the guards closed the doors behind her, Cregan stared at the empty room and the large table in front of him. She had seen something in him, something he was not ready to admit to himself yet.
The Great Hall of the Red Keep was eerily silent, the weight of the impending judgments pressing heavily on all present. The Iron Throne loomed in the background, a jagged, forbidding monument to the power that had been fought over so bitterly. But today, it was not the Iron Throne that commanded attention, it was the man sitting before it, on a simple wooden bench, that captured all the eyes in the room.
Lord Cregan Stark, newly named Hand of the King, though it was less an honour and more a necessity born from the young king's fear and the absence of his formidable aunt, sat in judgement of all the turncloaks and kingslayers that had been arrested.
The next criminal in session was Ser Perkin the Flea, a man of no great birth but of infamy enough to fill the hall. His shoulders hunched slightly, his gaze shifting nervously as he was brought forward to stand trial. The man who had once risen so high through treachery now looked small and pathetic.
''Ser Perkin,'' Cregan acknowledged the traitor, ''you rose up in rebellion against your lawful queen and helped drive her from this city to her death. You raised up your own squire in her place, then abandoned him to save your worthless hide.''
The Flea opened his mouth to protest to plead his case, but Cregan continued, his voice growing colder with each word. ''The realm will be a better place without you.''
Desperation flared in Perkin's eyes. ''I was pardoned for those crimes, my Lord! I was forgiven!''
The Warden's expression did not change as he delivered his final, damning words. ''Not by me.''
The weight of that statement hung in the air as the Flea was led away, his fate sealed by the undaunted judgement of the Lord of Winterfell.
Next came Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake himself. The room seemed to hold its breath as the old man was brought forward, his chains clinking softly with each step. Unlike Perkin, Corlys did not cower or plead. His gaze was steady, though weary, as he faced Cregan.
Cregan observed him for a long moment, his thoughts unreadable. The Sea Snake had been many things - an ally, a traitor, a hero, a villain - but now, he stood accused of murder, and that was all that mattered.
''You stand accused of murder, regicide, and high treason. How do you answer these charges, Lord Velaryon?'' His deep northern accent boomed through the Great Hall.
Much to everyone's surprise, Corlys did not attempt to hide his guilt. ''What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.''
Cregan remained silent for a moment, his gaze steady, measuring Corlys’s resolve. The old man had seen countless battles, navigated treacherous waters, both literal and political, and yet here he stood, admitting to regicide without a flicker of regret.
As he stared into the Sea Snake’s eyes, Cregan’s mind drifted, if only for a heartbeat, to Visenya. Their bitter words echoed in his memory, and he felt the sting of her absence more keenly than ever. Seven days had passed since they had last spoken, seven days of not having even seen a glimpse of her. It was a wound that festered, a silent torment he could not afford to indulge.
His gaze faltered for a brief moment as those thoughts consumed him, but he quickly steeled himself. This was not the time for doubt. Corlys Velaryon had committed murder, and murder demanded justice, no matter the cost.
''I declare Lord Corlys Velaryon guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason. For his crimes, he must pay with his life.'' Cregan decided, every word a hammer blow.
The old man stood silent, accepting the verdict with the same calm he had displayed throughout the trial. His granddaughters watched in horror as their grandsire was escorted away back to his cell in the dungeons, now a sentenced murderer and traitor.
The price of peace was high, and today, it had claimed the Sea Snake.
The halls of the Red Keep were quieter now, the echo of recent trials still lingering in the air. The heavy weight of the verdicts hung over the castle, settling uneasily in every corner, as if the very stones themselves were absorbing the gravity of what had transpired.
Cregan walked the corridors alone,his thoughts occupied with the day's grim duties. He was heading towards the courtyard, seeking his men, when a sudden presence halted him in his tracks.
''You cannot do this,'' Baela's voice was steady, her expression fierce, her hand gripping the hilt of a sword, ''Aegon pardoned my grandsire. He granted him mercy, and you cannot simply take that away.''
Beside her, Rhaena lingered, her gaze troubled but determined. Cregan could see that while she did not entirely condone her sister's approach, she had chosen to stand by her regardless.
The Warden regarded her for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching in something that was almost a smile. He recognized the fire in her eyes, a familiar Targaryen resolve that demanded to be heard. But her words, her challenge, it amused him more than it angered him.
''And you intend to force this pardon with that sword?'' Cregan asked, his voice laced with a hint of mockery.
Baela tightened her grip on the sword, her expression remaining fierce. She had made a show of defiance, but deep down, she knew she would not raise her blade against him. Cregan saw it too, the internal struggle playing out behind her determined gaze.
He let out a low, rumbling laugh. ''You will not use it, Princess. You are not here to fight me,'' Cregan respected Baela, she had been Jace's betrothed and his late friend had always spoken of her in high praises, ''you are here because you think you can sway me with a threat, but we both know that is not going to work.''
Baela clenched her jaw, her pride wounded by his dismissal. Rhaena, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. ''My sister only seeks what was promised by the King. It is not too late to honour that, Lord Stark.''
His laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression as he looked between the Dragon Twins. ''The King may have offered pardon, but I have not. Your grandsire committed crimes that cannot be overlooked. What’s done is done.''
Baela's grip did not falter as she held it up to Cregan, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and desperation. She could see that her words alone weren't enough to sway him, so she aimed for what she hoped would be a weak spot.
''Is that what you told Visenya, Lord Stark? Or did you wish to court her, but she rejected your Northern beastliness, and you had her imprisoned like you did our grandsire?''
Cregan's eyes flashed with anger at Baela's words, a fire igniting within him that he struggled to keep in check. Her comment had struck deeper than she could have known, but he would not let her see how much it affected him.
''Whispers of the court do not concern me, Princess.'' He brushed it aside, though his voice was dangerously low, his temper barely restrained. He knew she was trying to provoke him.
Baela's eyes narrowed as she noted his reaction. ''But they seem to concern my cousin, and what concerns her, concerns us, Lord Stark.'' She said, her tone dripping with disdain.
His temper flared, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. ''Put the sword down, Princess. You know as well as I do that you will not be making use of it.''
Baela refused to back down, the fire in her eyes only growing more intense as she stared him down. ''Do you think so little of us, Lord Stark?'' She asked, her voice venomous. ''You dismiss our concerns, our family, as if they are beneath you. You should know better than to dance with a dragon.''
''I do not underestimate anyone,'' he retorted, the same way he had said to Lady Jeyne in the council chamber, ''least of all your cousin. Your grandfather was complicit in the poisoning of a King, even if it was the Usurper. A crime he will be punished for.''
Her hand slowly dropped from the sword, the fire in her eyes dimming, replaced by a mixture of frustration and resignation. Still, she was not ready to let him have the last word.
''You might believe this is justice, but there will be those who remember this as cruelty.'' She said quietly, only loud enough for him and her sister to hear.
Cregan nodded slightly, acknowledging her words without conceding to them. ''History will judge us all, Princess.''
With that, he stepped past the two women, leaving them standing in the corridor. He did not slow his pace, even as doubt clawed at the edges of his mind.
Baela's grip on the sword slackened further, her shoulders drooping as she exchanged a look with Rhaena. Her twin put a comforting hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the cold emptiness of the corridor.
The castle was draped in silence, the kind that only settled over King's Landing in the dead of night. The corridors were empty, save for the occasional torch flickering in its sconce. Outside, the air was cool, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth inside the castle walls.
Visenya moved quietly, her steps light as she made her way through the Great Yard. She had been to see her dragon, Sōnax, seeking solace in the dead of night when sleep eluded her. The moon cast a pale light over the paths, guiding her through the maze of hedges and flowers that had once been so meticulously tended. Now, they seemed as weary as she felt, their blooms drooping in the darkness.
She passed the godswood, pausing against the heart tree. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill her lungs, trying to ease the tension that had settled in her chest.
It was then that she heard the faint sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. She turned, instinctively reaching for the dagger she kept hidden in the folds of her gown ever since the start of the Dance, but she relaxed slightly when she saw who it was.
Cregan emerged from the shadows, his tall figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. He had been patrolling the grounds, unable to sleep with the weight of the day’s decisions pressing down on him. The trials, the confrontations - it all swirled in his mind, leaving him restless.
They had not expected to see each other at this hour or even at all until the Lord of Winterfell would ultimately return to the North.
The pair stared at one another, neither moving or speaking. The tension that had manifested itself in Visenya's chest had been lifted from her body and into the air between them. Cregan's dark eyes met hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Visenya did not look away.
''Princess.'' He finally greeted her, his voice rough from the lack of sleep.
''Lord Stark.'' She nodded, her tone equally guarded. She could see the weariness in his eyes, the lines of fatigue etched into his face. It mirrored her own exhaustion, the strain of everything they had endured.
He loosened the grip on his sword as he took a few steps closer. ''What brings you here at this hour?'' He asked, though he already suspected the answer.
''I could ask you the same.'' She replied, her tone neutral, careful.
Cregan let out a soft breath, almost a chuckle, but it lacked any real humour. ''I suppose neither of us has found much comfort in sleep lately.''
Visenya nodded, her gaze turning back to the large tree behind her. ''The nights are long when ones thoughts are troubled.''
''And yours are troubled, Princess?'' He asked, taking a step closer, though still keeping a respectful distance.
Her eyes flickered back to his. ''They are. As are yours, I imagine.''
Cregan did not provide her with an answer right away, instead watching her. He looked at her, really looked at her, and he could see the toll that the last few days had taken on her. She was still beautiful, even in all her fatigue and unrest.
''Yes,'' he said, his voice thoughtful, ''there is much to ponder about.''
''The trials, I suppose.'' She was leaning against the tree, observing every step and move he made.
Cregan stopped his pacing and turned to face her. ''Indeed.''
''I know what you think of his actions,'' Visenya sighed, '' and I agree that poison is a coward's weapon.'' Her gaze became distant, as if dreaming.
The Wolf of the North nodded along, his expression one of contemplation.
''When I flew to King's Landing, I only had one purpose; to kill my half-brother, to kill him as he had my sister, by burning him alive and feeding him to my dragon. You can imagine my anger when I arrived here and I am told that the Usurper is dead, and by poison of all ways,'' she chuckled, though the sound was devoid of real mirth.
''However, I am glad he got a coward's death. My sister died like a true Targaryen, in fire and blood. Her death will be a grand story told for centuries, but no one will remember his. The story of his demise will fade because it lacked the valour and the strength that he lacked,'' She admitted, almost sounding proud.
Cregan nodded slowly, understanding the fierce loyalty and pride that Visenya held for her family.
''But there are others who acted not out of cowardice, but out of duty to the realm, to their family. They deserve a different fate.'' She met his gaze again, sorrow in her eyes.
Cregan's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing where the conversation was leading. ''Lord Corlys Velaryon?''
Visenya nodded. ''I ask you one last time to reconsider his sentence. Yes, he made a choice that many would condemn, but without him, Aegon would not be alive today.''
He remained unreadable, though his eyes softened slightly. ''You ask much, Princess. The law cannot bend every time someone believes their cause is just.''
She stepped closer to him, her violet eyes locked onto his.''If not for the stability of the realm, if not for the honour of my nephew, if not for the sake of peace, for me. A personal boon.''
Cregan studied her, the sincerity in her voice piercing through the walls he had built around himself. ''And if I were to grant this boon, what would you offer in return, Princess?'' There was a hint of curiosity, the first time the mighty Warden of the North could actually sound like his conviction could be persuaded.
''In return, I will give you whatever you desire, Lord Stark.'' Visenya answered, her voice strong despite the tremor in her earlier plea.
He could see the desperation in her eyes, the way she held herself with a dignity that was both regal and vulnerable. The offer she made was not one to be taken lightly.
''What I desire?'' He repeated, almost as if testing the weight of those words. He looked down, thoughtful, then back at her, his gaze piercing through the darkness. ''What if what I desire is not something you are willing to give?''
Visenya stiffened slightly, her heart pounding as she anticipated what he might say. ''Name it.'' She said, though there was a hint of apprehension in her voice.
Cregan took another step, closing the distance between them. ''What I desire is all of you, forever.''
Visenya felt the air catch in her throat as Cregan's words hung between them. It was as if the entire world had paused, waiting for her response. His dark eyes, intense and unwavering, held hers captive, and for a moment, she found herself unable to speak.
''All of me?'' She managed to whisper. She was not sure if it was a question or an incredulous statement.
Cregan nodded, his expression solemn. ''Yes. Your hand in marriage, your loyalty, your trust - everything that you are, everything that you could be. Not just for a night or a season, but for as long as we both shall live.''
She searched his eyes, looking for a trace of jest or manipulation, but found only earnestness. The Warden of the North was not a man to make light of such things. The very idea was preposterous - her, a Targaryen, bound to the North? Yet, in that moment, it felt as though he was offering something more than a mere proposal. It was an invitation to a different kind of life, one far away from King's Landing.
She let out a small, breathless laugh, one that held no humour. ''Are you mad, my Lord? A Targaryen in the North?''
Cregan's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained serious. ''Perhaps I am, my Princess. But madness and greatness often walk hand in hand, do they not?''
Visenya regarded him, the idea swirling in her mind. It was mad, audacious, and yet... "You would truly ask this of me? To marry into the North, where winter reigns and dragons do not fly?"
He nodded, his expression unwavering. ''I would. The North may be a land of ice and snow, but it is also a land of honour, of strength, and of loyalty. It is a place where bonds are not easily broken, where words are not just spoken but lived, my Princess.''
''It is no place for dragons, nor for those who carry their blood.'' She shook her head.
''And yet, here you are,'' he countered, ''a dragon in King's Landing, a place that has brought you nothing but pain and loss. What has this city given you that the North could not? What has this life offered you, other than endless war and treachery?''
She opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. His questions struck at the heart of her fears, her uncertainties. The life she had known was one of fire and blood, of power plays and betrayals. But what had it truly brought her? What had it cost her?
Everything.
Cregan took her silence as an opportunity to continue. ''I offer you more than just a marriage, Princess. I offer you a chance to build something new, something not tainted by the ghosts of the past.''
Visenya felt a chill run down her spine, though she was not sure if it was the cold night air or the weight of his words. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine it - a life in Winterfell, far from the scheming of King’s Landing, the endless battles for power. A life with a man who, despite his stern exterior, had shown her a kind of respect and understanding she had not expected.
But the thought of leaving everything behind, of binding herself to a man she barely knew, was terrifying. ''You ask much of me, my Lord.'' She remarked, her voice slightly trembling.
''And you asked much of me, my Princess.'' He retorted gently.
''You are right,'' she chuckled, ''I did ask much of you.''
Visenya looked down, her thoughts a tangled web of doubt and longing. She had always been a Targaryen, defined by her name, her blood, her dragon. But what had that brought her? Loss after loss, betrayal after betrayal.
''What of my dragon? Sōnax is a creature of fire and sky, bound to me as I am to her.'' She could not leave her behind, she'd seen how Seasmoke had acted when Laenor left. She did not want Sōnax to be subjected to the same fate.
''She would find her place,'' he assured her, his eyes not leaving hers, ''The North may be cold, but it is also vast, with endless skies and mountains that reach the heavens. She will not be confined, just as you will not be.''
It did not feel real to her. As a young girl, she had imagined how her betrothal would go. She figured it would be much like her sister's, one to strengthen alliances and no regard for what either the bride or groom want. There was no room for dreams or desires. It was all about duty.
Despite asking him for a favour, his proposal almost felt like a choice. It felt foreign, strange, like something she was not accustomed to. To have a choice in something so monumental felt both liberating and terrifying.
''And if I say yes, if I agree to this... I want to be your equal. I do not wish for you to rule, while my only purpose would be to squeeze out heirs like a broodmare.'' She was firm and resolute, no room for arguing.
Cregan took her hand, engulfed by his. ''You would be my equal in every way, my Princess. We do not see women as mere vessels for heirs. I already have one, my son Rickon. We value strength, wisdom, and the ability to lead, regardless of one's gender. If you stand beside me as my wife, you will be a Lady of Winterfell, not just in name but in action.''
Visenya felt the warmth of his hand enveloping hers, a stark contrast to the cool night air that surrounded them. Her heart raced as she met his gaze, his grey eyes filled with a depth of sincerity she had not encountered before.
With a deep breath, she nodded, her decision crystallising in the quiet of the night. ''I will marry you, Lord Stark. A hand for a head.'' She agreed, grinning.
A genuine look of joy and relief crossed Cregan's face. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. ''Then it is settled,'' he said, his voice warm with emotion, ''I will have my men release Lord Corlys from his cell when the sun rises.''
''Thank you, my Lord.'' She expressed quietly.
''Cregan.'' He corrected gently.
''What?'' Visenya blinked, caught off guard by his sudden informality.
''You may call me Cregan.'' He repeated, his smile softening.
Visenya hesitated for a moment before nodding, a small smile forming on her lips. ''Then you may call me Visenya.'' She offered in return.
The familiarity between them, though still new, felt strangely comfortable.
''I will be leaving for Winterfell once the sentences have been carried out.'' Cregan informed her, still holding onto her hand.
She nodded, the gravity of his words not lost on her. ''So soon,'' she murmured, squeezing his larger hand as if to hold onto the moment a little longer, ''I will have to stay here longer. For Aegon, he needs me here for the time being.''
''I know,'' he mumbled back, ''your duty to him comes first. But when your time here is done, Winterfell will be waiting for you...and so will I.''
There was a tenderness in his words that made Visenya's heart ache. She gave him a small nod, her grip on his hand tightening for just a moment before she finally let go.
''We will discuss the formalities once we both have found some rest. I am retiring for the night.'' She announced, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the past week catching up with her as she leaned against the tree.
Cregan noticed the weariness in her posture and stepped forward. ''Allow me to escort you to your chambers, my Princess.'' He offered his arm, for her to support her weight.
Visenya smiled softly, touched by his offer but aware of the distance between their quarters. ''You are kind, Cregan, but your chambers are far, and you need rest as well. We have both endured enough for one night.'' Her words were gentle, her refusal a considerate one.
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, understanding her reasoning. ''As you wish,'' he accepted, ''goodnight, my betrothed.'' She could see a hint of a smirk on his face.
''Goodnight, my betrothed.'' Visenya echoed, the words feeling both strange and comforting on her lips.
With one last look, they parted ways, each retreating to their respective chambers.
As Visenya walked away, the weight of their conversation settled over her like a heavy cloak. She had made a decision that would change the course of her life, and yet, she felt a strange sense of peace. It was not the peace that came from certainty, but the kind that came from acceptance, from choosing a path and committing to it.
Cregan watched her until she disappeared into the castle, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He had asked for her hand not out of a simple desire for power or alliance, but because he saw how fiercely she protected those who had stood by her sister and their family.
He wanted to be the object of her loyalty, amidst other things.
