Could you please write a fic where Rhaenyra’s strongdaughter gets into an argument with her mother because her mother won’t let her marry Aemond and she calls her mother a hypocrite for calling Aemond unfit to be a husband when her own husband got exiled twice. (Please also write Daemon reacting to it)
I looooove this idea! To me, it would be such a funny argument and of course, Daemon couldn't take it seriously - its just so lol
enjoy this little blurb!
submit your own blurb/ headcanon requests HERE!
read part two of this blurb HERE!
Targaryen Traditions
AEMOND TARGARYEN x VELARYON(STRONG)! READER
word count: 900 - blurb
summary: read request
a/n: should I do a little continuation?
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rhaenyra moved gracefully down the halls of Dragonstone, despite the unamused look that graced her face. It had barely been a full day since the daily had returned from an eventful visit in King’s Landing. Despite the typical quarrels, it now seemed her own daughter had been bewitched by one of her half-siblings… Prince Aemond Targaryen…
“Mother, I don’t understand!” You whined, following her into the great foyer of Dragonstone.
“You will understand in time that I am right,” Rhaenyra spoke simply while crossing toward the fireplace, a hand over her belly.
“I wish to understand now because this makes no sense to me!” You quickly rebutted, “A year ago, you suggested to the Queen that I be betrothed to Aegon, who has since married Helaena. Now Aemond wishes for my hand and you deny me marrying a prince.”
“The point was never to have you simply marry a prince. If I wanted to see you married off to a man that holds such a title, I could have sent you to Dorne or Essos. To marry Aegon would have done a great many things, but most importantly keep you close to me,” Rhaenyra gazed toward you with motherly affection, “However, it seems Alicent only cares for Targaryen tradition when it serves her needs. You will not marry a second son.”
Daemon soon entered, freshly clean from the travels of the previous days. Though you respected and even somewhat cared for your stepfather, he did not replace the man that you first called father, Ser Laenor. When he entered, both you and your mother turned to him, silently begging that he pick a side. It was wishful thinking on your part since Daemon was not over fond of his nephew. Seemed to be a recurring theme…
The Rogue Prince had a smirk playing on his lips. Rhaenyra’s words were not lost on him, and even caused a chuckle from the man, “What is wrong with second sons?”
At such playful teasing, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at the antics of her husband, “Nothing, husband. Except my daughter wishes to marry the Queen’s spiteful, second son.”
“Aemond?” He asked as he approached the princess. She nodded to his question, and then his gaze turned to you, “Aemond?”
Eagerly, you nodded. The thought crossed your mind of possibly being able to convince Daemon that your betrothal should be set with Aemond so that he could push Rhaenyra to be more willing to the idea.
“You wish to marry to One-Eye prince?”
Of course, Daemon would tease you with such a question. As if your brothers had yet to torment you over the idea. Neither Jacaerys nor Lucerys liked the proposed betrothal between their uncle and sister.
“It would be fulfilling my duty to the family and the realm,” You began to explain, “Jace shall sit on the throne one day, and I will be his heir until Baela gives him a child.”
Rhaenyra’s face soured at your words. She did not like how your education fueled your argument but was also proud of seeing such diplomacy from her daughter. The double-edged sword that all mothers must face with their children.
When she did not speak, you began again, “If I marry Aemond, I will also live in the Keep. I can assist Alicent and the maesters in taking care of my grandsire. You and Daemon always voice your concern for the King, so it might put you at ease.”
“You are a princess, not a caretaker—”
“Says who? You?” You were sharp with your tongue, growing tired of playing this game with your mother, “You say a princess is not a caretaker, yet you are a mother. You say I should not marry a second son, yet you did…”
“My dear, the circumstances are different,” Rhaenyra’s voice grew more stern at your pointed argument, “Aemond is your uncle!”
At such a comment, a boisterous laugh escaped your lips. It was quite out of fashion, but you could not keep it together. You looked back to your mother with a look of disbelief, gazing between Rhaenyra and Daemon, “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”
Confused by your statement, Rhenyra looked to Daemon. He chuckled while taking her hand within his own, intertwining their fingers, “I believe she means to call you a hypocrite.”
Rhaenya pursed her lips, looking at her husband than her daughter. Her eyes glanced over your frame, taking in all the likeness you shared. She then thought about how she acted at your age… She had married Laenor when she was just a year younger than you are now. But she would resent seeing you leave Dragonstone, no matter who the man was.
“I’m flying to King’s Landing in two days' time on dragon back due to a previous agreement. You shall join me… and I will consider the proposition of a marriage to Aemond,” Rhaenyra spoke with a sigh.
A great smile spread across your face, elated that she would now at least consider Aemond as a suitor, “Thank you, mother! Thank you, thank you!”
“But I do not wish to hear any more of this or anything related to Aemond before our departure. Am I clear?”
“Yes, of course, mother,” You replied with a light giggle.
With a slight nod of her head, Rhaenyra dismissed you to do as you pleased. Relief washed over both of you. With quick steps, you took your leave to write a scroll to Aemond of your small successes.
Yes please write a part 2. If you don’t mind could something happen there that endangers strongreaders life and Aemond prevents.
check out part one here
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Favor of All
AEMOND TARGARYEN X STRONG(VELARYON)!READER
summary: once returning to king's landing, you and your mother watch aemond win a tourney and a favor
word count: 942
warnings: tarcest? dangerous situation?
“His first tourney!” You look between Aegon and Helaena in shock at what they’ve told you.
“We can hardly believe it either,” Aegon rolled his eyes when he noticed how overly excited you and the princess were, “Is my eldest sister joining us?”
Shaking your head at Aegon’s lack of enthusiasm, you scoffed at him before taking a glimpse out the window of the carriage, “My mother is in the same carriage as the King and his wife.”
Aegon didn’t acknowledge your reply, but it didn’t matter. The carriage had come to the halt for the royal arrival at one of the great amphitheaters of the city. Aegon stepped out before either you or Helaena, and did not even offer a hand to assist. Instead, two eager boys (most likely the third or fourth son of some lord ) came to help the young ladies out of their carriage.
Immediately, you were all ushered toward your setting today. Instead of sitting in the typical noble box, the Hand had made a request for the King to be seated toward the center so that he may watch Aemond from a better vantage point.
You currently sat to the left of your mother, Rhaenyra, as she was on the left hand of her King father. Helaena’s lady-in-waiting sat on your other side, and you began to make polite conversation with her.
Together, you laughed and giggled until a caller came approaching.
“My Princess!”
You turned to see who beckoned you and met the gaze of a violet eye and long hair neatly braided away from his face.
“Uncle!”
Aemond stopped before the gate where you were eye-to-eye with his horse. You pet the soft hair of the creature and you glanced up at him.
“So now you'll compete in tourneys?”
“You know I don’t really give a shit about this,” Aemond chuckled with a playful smirk, “But it is my duty to perform such tasks.”
“Mmhmm… I’m sure you can’t stand the attention of all the ladies wishing for your affection,” You teased the prince while biting your lip.
“There is only one who has my affections,” Aemond wistfully produced a red and white rose, presenting it for you to take, “my princess…”
You sniffed the flower gently, looking bashfully up to the man, “You have my favor… May the Warrior guild your blade, and may the Mother watch over you.”
Aemond nodded and turned back toward the starting end of the joust. In place of the King, Alicent and Rhaenyra stood together and gave the welcome of the tourney. Soon enough, it all began with men and horses colliding, fighting each other with a determined grit.
Soon, the Prince started his first joust. While you cheered loudly for him, he simply won with ease. Many champions and fools were bested by Aemond, and all you could do was cheer wildly for him. In the final event for the day, Aemond came to your on his horse once more.
“My dear niece, you and your prayer have been quite the good luck charm for me to day,” His eye flickered from Rhaenyra, back to you. He scanned over your face, and offered a smirk, “Might I have your favor, princess?”
With a great grin, you turned to the side table and grabbed your braided favor. You pressed a soft kiss to one of the flowers before placing it onto his baton. With ease, you guided the favor down the shaft, eyes never leaving his.
“My favor is yours,” Your heart beat had picked up rapidly as you felt the eyes of the public upon you. Yet you didn’t care, too entranced by Aemond.
Your hand eagerly gripped your mothers as you watched the joust begin between the finalists. Aemond looked as if he was charging into battle, while the other lad seemed to have an ego for getting thus far in the competition. The trumpet sounded and both men charged at the other. It was a swift motion, but Aemond easily knocked his competitor off his horse. He continued to turn his horse backed around, as the other man equipped himself with a bow and arrow. The man fired three shots at Aemond, yet none of them came close to striking the prince. He fired another arrow, however it refocused on course of the booth.
Your eyes went wide, and you felt the hands of your mother go to grab and tug you out of the path. Before you could move, the arrow struck with a great thud. Aemond had stopped the speeding arrow with a piece of his shattered shield. He looked from the man, who yielded, and then back to you with great concern in his eye.
“Are you well, my lady? Unharmed?”
“Thank you, my prince. Your speed and agility have done the great service of protection,” Your hand clutched over your heart as you spoke with a nervous laugh.
“I am simply glad that you are well,”Aemond gently grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.
A warm blush came to your cheeks at his actions. You felt the eyes of your mother look over the scene before her with a great itensity. Something had suddenly shifted in how she saw Aemond and his behavior toward’s her daughter. Rhaenyra finally saw just how Aenond was with her daughter as Daemon was with her. It warmed her heart, knowing that someone cared for her daughter as much as she did.
Later, she would speak to Alicent about a betrothal, but now she simply allowed you to seek the affections of your prince.
Aemond would have dragged you to a private room, if not his own chambers after one of the numerous feasts hosted in the Red Keep. He is an easily jealous man, so even if it was something as simple as a man offering to replenish your wine, Aemond would quickly interrupt. Some of it was a natural possessiveness, but another part was because he was always insecure that you were unhappy in your marriage to the one-eyed prince.
The skirt of your dress would be hiked up around your knees, if not completely discarded by the prince. His hand would be between your supple thighs, eliciting moans from your mouth as his fingers pleasured your most initiate parts.
“All those lords… they just love to prattle and dote on my lady,” Aemond sneered…
“But they can’t give you what I have given you, they don’t know you like I know you, they can’t love you like I love you…”
At some point his fingers would enter you and begin pumping at an unrelenting pace. Once your breathes became inconsistent and he felt your velvet walls squeeze around his fingers, he knew that you were just on the verge.
“Only I can bring my wife nearly to tears of pleasure with just my fingers…”
His free hand would raise to cup your jaw gently at first, and then take firm hold once you began moaning his name.
“Yes, my precious wife,” Aemond would chuckle. His thumb would brush your lower lip, before tugging your mouth open wider for him. Then he would spit in your mouth, closing it and making sure you swallowed before pressing rough kisses to your lips…
