The Old Man Thoughts Are Too Much

Beff | AKOTSK Side Blog | 27 | Minors DNI

[tansyandtulips]

Hi, I'm Beff and I bit the fucking bullet and made a blog for akotsk because I'm literally unwell.

My masterlist is here! I may eventually post stuff on AO3. I will link that whenever I do that.

Requests are tentatively open for now, and I will write smut, so please... Minors do NOT interact with me. I do block minors. All things I will write/don't write will be under the cut!

Things I will write:

Reader inserts and reader inserts only!

Smut

Polyamory

I'm most comfortable with writing Fem!Reader (mainly with smut) but could probably branch out!

Things I Will NOT Write:

Pedophilia

Scat

Incest (this may be weird because of targcest, but please bear with me...)

super detailed sa/rape

Characters I Write:

Baelor Targaryen

Lyonel Baratheon

Ser Duncan the Tall

Valarr Targaryen

Daeron Targaryen

Raymun Fossoway

Maekar Targaryen

(ALL of these lists are liable to change at any time!)

[tansyandtulips]

A Gift from the Gods

[Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen x F!Dragon!Reader]

Chapter III

You are not completely sure of your own abilities; Valarr is more than willing to help you learn. Sadly, so is someone else.

[Prologue] [Chapter I] [Chapter II]

Warnings: Reader has dragon features (horns, sharp teeth and nails, and some scales), age-gap (reader is written to be in her 20s), she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta'd, no use of y/n, canon typical Aerion, canon typical violence, mention of blood and broken bones

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: the next ch will most likely have some nsft themes, I'm trying to decide if I'm doing a tag list for that ch or not... either way, I hope you enjoy this ch! I will be posting this to AO3 as soon as that stops being down! divider by @/honeyluvsw

You have changed out of your dress and into something more breathable. You are wearing breeches and a cotton shirt that is one size too big. Valarr had insisted on you not getting your dress dirty. You had no cares either way, it is not like you have not been dirty before. But when Baelor asked you to go change, who were you to say no?

You stand across from Valarr. Your arms rest awkwardly at your sides, your fingers twitching. You stare at him, waiting for him to do something.

Valarr smiles at you, soft like his father. It is nice. “How strong are you?” He asks, his eyes not leaving you.

You shrug. “I believe I cracked some kid’s ribs when I was younger.” You admit.

“You aren’t sure?” Maekar pipes in.

“I felt his ribs crack under my foot. I did not see him again after that, so I did not ask if I broke them.” You squint when you look towards Maekar, the sun hitting your eyes. You move your hand up to block it and notice Maekar looking at Baelor. Your eyes shift to Baelor and he is watching you. You ignore this and focus back on Valarr.

He watches you closely. He seems to be thinking.

“I can hold back!” You put your hands up. “I am capable of that.” You had to learn how to do that. Elliyah is nowhere near as strong as you, so when she would piss you off, you had to learn how to gently beat apologies out of her. Learning how to hold and shift your weight, or swinging your fist at the right speed was not an easy task for a kid. Mother did not like for you to hit your sister, but she never found it if you were not too rough.

A soft laugh slips past Valarr’s lips. “No need to worry about me.” His confidence in himself is something he must have gotten from Baelor.

“Other than the child,” Maekar starts, catching your attention again, “have you ever fought?”

You blink at him, the sun in your eyes. “Yes.” You think about the struggle with the man who found you before Baelor did.

Maekar makes a face, waiting for you to continue. You do not elaborate. Not at first. Baelor and Valarr share a look. “Well?” Valarr asks.

“Oh!” You rub the back of your neck. “After I- Elliyah and I left home, someone came for us… For the horses we stole.” Your nose crinkles at the memory. “I held him off of Elliyah until you found us,” you look at Baelor, “Your Grace.”

They all seem to be taking in everything you say, even Maekar. Valarr hums and you look at him. “If you would like,” he looks between you and Baelor, almost as if asking for approval from his father, “we can test your strength?”

You have never truly had an outlet for your pent up energy. You want to jump at the opportunity. You look at Baelor. You do not want to hurt his son.

“Go ahead.” Baelor waves his hand. “He will be fine.”

You nod. Your fingers wiggle at your sides as you think about your next move. You watch Valarr closely. He steps forward and begins to circle you. You mimic his steps. You both go around each other. He is waiting for you; you are waiting for him.

“We don’t have all fucking day.” Maekar groans.

You let out a puff of air and turn to him. Your jaw drops slightly and you make a face. Valarr uses this to his advantage. He steps closer to you and reaches out. You feel him getting closer. You easily dodge his grasp and turn back to him.

“Hey!” You take two steps back and Valarr takes two steps forward, smiling mischievously. He still looks more kind than his cousin. “I wasn’t paying attention!”

“Then pay attention.” Valarr reaches for you again.

You swat his hand away and huff. You plant your heels in the dirt and as he steps closer to you, he reaches for you again, aiming for your wrist. You dodge his hand and grab his forearm, pulling him closer to you with ease. Valarr is shocked, letting you easily maneuver him to the ground.

You crouch beside him and apologize immediately. “Sorry, ser, if I hurt you.”

Valarr rubs his arm, where you had been holding it, and he lets out a chuckle. “You are strong.” You nod at this revelation. “Father,” Valarr looks at Baelor, “let her throw you around.” He sounds smug. Baelor shakes his head. “Ah, what about you, uncle?” He looks at Maekar.

“I don’t need my clothes dirty.” Maekar’s eyes move from Valarr to you.

You stand back up and inhale softly. You catch the scent of another Targaryen, one obviously not standing with you. Your hair stands on end, and you turn around. You do not see anyone. You feel eyes on you. You turn away from Valarr, your back now facing him, and you look. You do not find anything.

Your eyes narrow and you inhale again. The Targaryen seems to still be in the same spot, unmoving. You, reflexively, let out a low noise, your chest rumbling.

“Are you alright?” Valarr stands up.

“Someone is watching.” You leave out the fact that it is one of their family members. You take a short breath in and notice the scent is mostly gone. You huff and chalk it down to Egg. You think he may be curious about you.

Egg does not smell so… malicious though.

“How do you know?” Valarr is curious. You turn back to him, Baelor and Maekar seem to be wondering the same thing. “There are many people around.”

He is right. You let out a soft hum, “I could feel eyes on me. I could smell something… off.” An uneasiness settles in your chest. You try to ignore it.

Maekar makes another face. “Smell?” He looks intrigued yet disgusted. You nod.

“There are lots of things that I smell that you cannot.” You look at him, thinking about it. “Food is being made right now.” You look towards the castle. “I can smell the meat cooking from here. And your family?” You motion between them. Baelor and Valarr nod, while Maekar looks as if he is about to hear the worst news in his life, “I believe I could hunt you all down like a hound.”

Maekar’s brow raises. “What the fuck does that mean?”

You suddenly feel embarrassed. “Oh.” You rub up and down your arm, nervously. “Well, you all… smell nice. I don’t know how to describe it.” You shake your head. “The scent is strong and-” you think “-grounding. You all smell slightly different,” you admit, “but it is the same general scent.”

Baelor is listening closely. Valarr seems interested as well. Maekar, however, seems to not be so curious anymore.

“I have things to tend to.” Maekar begins to leave. “I trust you can get her back to the castle?” Maekar looks at his brother.

Baelor lets out a soft laugh, “You do not have interest in how you smell, brother?”

Maekar’s expression immediately changes. It is unreadable. “No. I don’t have a particular interest in her sniffing me.”

Your face contorts. “I don't want to sniff you, ser!” Your nose scrunches at him. Maekar is walking off now. “I don't want to sniff people! I naturally smell them when-” you groan. “He isn't listening.”

Valarr and Baelor let out a soft laugh. You are too mad at Maekar to join them, or even ask what was so funny. You huff and your arms fall limp at your sides. You blow air past your lips as you watch Maekar walk off. You huff and turn away from them and walk towards the tent you had changed in earlier.

“Are you alright?” Baelor asks.

You grab the dress from the tent and walk back towards them, "just grabbing my dress. I am going to head back inside.”

You begin your walk back towards the castle. You need to find Marielle anyway. Baelor and Valarr share a look and, as you walk by, Baelor begins to trail beside you. You bite your tongue, your sharp canines digging into it. You hug yourself and only grow more tense as a heavy silence settles between you and Baelor. You take in your surroundings while Baelor’s eyes seem to be on you.

“You are staring,” you cannot bite your tongue any longer. You do not prefer the taste of your blood.

“Ah, that I am.” He looks ahead, his arms behind his back. “I’m only curious.” He glances back at you.

“You can ask anything.” You look at him, “but I cannot promise an answer.”

Baelor smiles, “fair enough.” He seems to be thinking about his question. He lets out a soft hum, “you are not sure the extent of your abilities?” His wording causes your eyes to narrow.

“No.” You state it plainly, “I am not. I never had the ability to reliably test anything. Once these came in,” you motion to your horns, “I was locked away. The only things I truly know are I don’t understand people and I’m a lot stronger than them in almost every possible way.” Baelor nods at you. He is a good listener. “Can I ask you something now?”

“Of course.”

“My sister,” You look away from him, “did she say she hated me? She has never acted that way towards me before… I don’t want her to hate me.”

Baelor shakes his head. “No, she was generous with the information she gave us but never mentioned her feelings towards you. Other than not wanting to see you before she left, nothing was said about you.”

“Ah.” That is the only sound you can muster. “Thank you, Your-” Baelor’s look almost stops you in your tracks. “Baelor.” You correct yourself. The rest of the walk is quiet.

You are asleep. You had fallen asleep in the outfit from earlier. Marielle had insisted on you changing but you felt too drained. Now you rest in your bed, the moon high and shining into your window. You are sleeping deeper and better than you have in a while. You are curled under the blankets, in a bed that is more comfortable than you could ever imagine. You are positive you will never get used to something so divine.

The door of your room creaks and your eyes squint open. You assume it is Marielle, but only briefly. The scent of a Targaryen hits you, but not the nice one. You are sitting up immediately, your eyes scanning the room. Right in front of the door stands Aerion. Your breath catches in your throat.

You rub your eyes, you know you are not dreaming, but you have to be sure. He begins to walk towards you and your heart leaps into your throat. You scramble out of bed and watch him closely. He holds a dagger in his right hand; his left hand is balled into a fist. You think about jumping out of your window and running, but that is not a good look. You stand your ground.

“What are you doing?” Your brows furrow and you try to look intimidating.

Aerion huffs, “I saw you with Valarr,” it was him watching… “I want to test you as well.” He smiles. “I’m more like you than anyone else.”

Oh. You nod, going along with him. “How about when the sun rises?” You are tired.

Aerion clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “No. Now is a good time.” He makes his way around your bed, and you panic. You dart across your bed. Your feet get tangled in the covers and fall forward. You slam into the ground and immediately push yourself up. A hand grabs your ankle, effortlessly pulling you back.

“Let me go!” You kick your leg out, hitting Aerion in the stomach. You try to not hurt him too badly. You do not want to be his cause of death. You untangle your foot and stumble towards the door.

“Fuck!” Aerion hisses as he hits the ground. He is back on his feet and barreling towards you in seconds. As you reach the door and yank it open, you are pulled back and slammed into the floor. “Fight back!” Aerion’s voice is dripping with venom as you try to get away from him once more.

You shake your head. You do not want anyone upset with you. You stand up and look for an opportunity to exit your room. Aerion stalks towards you, your eyes lock with his and he looks absolutely mad. You need to leave before you have to actually take care of him in a way his father would not appreciate.

“You are a pathetic excuse of a dragon,” he spits at you, swinging his dagger.

You dodge it, ducking under his arm and leaving your room. Without thinking, you take off down the hall and scream for help. As you turn a corner, you slide across the floor and hit the ground. Hard.

Aerion is able to catch up to you. You try to get up, but slip again. Aerion is able to grab you by your shirt and pull you back towards him. He turns you towards him and slams you into the nearest wall.

“Please,” You put your hands up, begging for him to stop.

Aerion sneers at you, “Dragons don’t beg.” He gets in your face.

He has a point. Your eyes meet his again, he is looking at you with disgust and something else that you are not familiar with. He looks at your lips and back at your eyes and you panic again. He is lost in his thoughts. You take the chance to rear your head back and slam your forehead right in his mouth.

Aerion is only fueled with more rage. He does stumble back from you, letting you get away from him. Where the fuck is everyone? You have to find someone and fast. A scent hits your nose. Targaryen. One that is not Aerion. You freeze.

Aerion lets out an enraged yell and instead of retreating, goes right back for you. As you try to figure out where the scent is coming from, Aerion is able to grab you. He throws you onto the floor and your head bounces. Your nose cracks against the floor and you let out a loud yelp. You try to get up and a boot presses to the side of your face, holding you down. Blood begins to gush from your nose, filling your mouth, and puddling in the floor.

You let out a growl and Aerion lowers himself to your level. You are in an awkward position, barely able to fight back with how you are being held down.

“You are an ill-mannered, weak, and-”

Footsteps catch your attention. This time, Aerion freezes, his foot letting up. Your nails dig into the floor, dragging across the stone, and you push yourself up, knocking Aerion off balance. You slam your body into Aerion’s and easily snatch the dagger from his grasp. You fall on top of him and hold him down. With your bloody teeth bared, you raise the dagger above Aerion and begin to swing down on him.

Your body is slammed into before the blade reaches him. You are sent sliding off of Aerion, a body on top of you, holding you down again. The dagger has flown from your hand and slid down the long hallway. You do not need that though. You roughly push the man on you away and stand up again.

You look at Aerion, who is standing now as well, his mouth bloody from your earlier headbutt. He does not look done with you, but he does not pursue you any further. You are grabbed, an arm wrapping around your waist, stopping you from going back at Aerion again. The sound of your name catches you off guard. Your eyes refocus, shifting from Aerion and towards the person talking.

Baelor.

You fall limp in the arms of the man holding you and wince as you inhale. You do not fight anymore. You only watch Baelor. Aerion is fuming.

“Aerion,” Baelor glances over at his nephew, “go back to your bedchambers.”

You gasp, “but-”

“He will be dealt with in the morning.” Baelor looks back at you. Aerion leaves, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Baelor walks towards you. The guard holding you, reluctantly releases you. Baelor motions for him to leave and, without a word, he is gone.

“I was-” you are scrambling for anything that will make that not look so bad, “he attacked me! He came to my bedchambers, with that blade,” you point down at the dagger that is now lying on the floor, “and he-”

Baelor motions for you to stop. “You had intentions to kill him?”

You are caught off guard. “I don’t want him dead,” you admit, “I only wanted him to leave me alone.”

Baelor sighs, “you were not going to stab him?” He asks as if he does not know the answer to that.

“I- I-” you pause, “I feel like this is a trap.” You pout at him. Baelor’s eyes travel from yours and to your bloody nose. Your face is throbbing. You wince and grab your nose. Without thinking, you pop it, and you let out a horrible sound. Baelor’s eyes widen and he inhales sharply through his nose, lightly grimacing. Tears prick your eyes from the pain, and you immediately blink them away. You let out a huff. “Sorry,” you apologize, hands dropping to your side, “it wasn’t going to heal properly otherwise.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Baelor drops his earlier question. You have a feeling this is not over though.

Your face is on fire, and your eyes are looking everywhere but Baelor. “Marielle could do this. She may be, uh-” you pause.

“Better?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. Baelor’s hands brush your nose and you are immediately crawling in your skin. You let out a whine and your eyes screw shut.

“Stay still, please.” 

You do not nod like you want to. “The pain should go away soon.” You are reassuring yourself more than him, “since I set it.”

Baelor’s eyebrows raise; he is intrigued. “How did you learn about your healing?” He is still focused on cleaning the blood. He wipes one last time and then looks at you, his eyes meeting yours.

You swallow hard. He is close. Your brain momentarily goes blank. “I have had it broken before,” you are stuck looking at him, as if he is the only thing in the entire room, “some kid punched me.” You shrug. “It healed quicker than it was supposed to. Elliyah was confused, but no one ever made it out to be odd.” You think back on your childhood, “When Elliyah broke her nose, is when I realized just how quickly I heal.”

Baelor does not back up. He is listening. You watch him closely. His head tilts and his hand grabs your chin, ever so gently. Suddenly the only thing you can hear is a candle crackling across the room. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as Baelor begins to close the space between you.

You tense. He lets out a low hum and grabs the cloth he was cleaning you with. “I seem to have missed a spot.” He gently wipes a spot on your cheek. Your breath hitches, and you are suddenly fighting the urge to pull him closer and kiss him.

You smell Maekar. You bristle instantly, looking past Baelor and at the door. Baelor turns at the same time Maekar bursts into the room. Your entire body tenses as he makes his way towards you. You are trapped behind Baelor, no way of escape. Baelor turns around and places himself between you and his brother.

“You tried to fucking stab my boy?”

Your eyes widen. You take a step back, looking for an out. You panic. “He-”

Baelor puts a finger up, silencing you. “Your boy broke her nose.”

Maekar almost loses his mind. “Her nose? Oh,” he nods, “if that’s the case…” he trails off before going back in on you, “she cannot go around-” Maekar groans and his hands flex. You have a feeling he is rethinking the whole you 'having their heir’ thing. Your teeth scrape the inside of your bottom lip as you watch Maekar.

“She was protecting herself.” Baelor is not stressing the way Maekar is. “It was stopped; it will not happen again.”

Maekar scowls. He is conflicted. You are obviously some divine being, but you also almost killed Aerion.

You poke around Baelor and try to reassure Maekar. “It won’t happen again,” if you can control your son. You keep the last part to yourself. Maekar huffs. He is not going to hurt you; it seems as if he cannot. This does not mean he has to be nice to you, however.  His stare makes this visibly known.

“You sure are causing us problems,” he rolls his eyes.

“I will do better.” The words fall from your mouth before thinking. They sound rushed and scared.

You know there is zero chance of you happening to go back home. If Maekar, or even Baelor, decide your time with them is up, you fear what will happen to you. In no world do you get out of this unscathed.

“I promise,” you nod at both of them, "I will keep to myself. I won’t stir up any more trouble.” Maekar does not respond, instead he leaves. He shuts the door and Baelor turns back to you. You hug yourself, trying to find any form of comfort. Between Baelor being so close, and Maekar seemingly wanting you dead, your breath has hitched. You look at Baelor and frown. “He hates me.”

Baelor shakes his head, “he does not. He is rough around the edges.” He tries to reassure you. “None of us know you, it would be unkind to form an opinion now.”

You almost killed his son; you are sure he hates you.

There Baelor goes staring again. This time, you stare back. Your breath catches in your throat, and you swallow hard.

“You are fascinating.” His voice is barely above a whisper. There is hardly any space between the both of you. His eyes wander across your body. They settle on your horns. He never reaches out to touch you, but something in you wants him to. You inhale slowly, taking in a shaky breath, Baelor’s scent being the only thing you can smell. It is suddenly the only thing you are aware of. It is intoxicating. It is almost as powerful as the smell of your home.

Almost.

You open your mouth to speak but cannot find the words. You shut your eyes and quickly reopen them; Baelor is waiting patiently for you to speak. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. “Sorry,” your head is nearly spinning, “you-” you find it inappropriate to mention how nice he smells, you should probably bite your tongue. You do not. “You smell nice.”

Baelor’s head tilts, he smiles. He is more interested in the scent thing than Maekar was, it seems. “Oh? Better than-”

“Better than everyone.” You interrupt him. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You want to put your hands up in defense but you physically cannot.

Baelor lets out a gentle, hearty laugh, “it is overwhelming?” He is curious.

You pause and then nod. “In a good way, I believe. I did not get the chance to,” you pause again, “to smell different things once I was ‘locked away’. Before, when I was a child, it was too much. The horse stables were disgusting. I pushed through.” You continue as Baelor hangs on to every word, “when Mother decided that I could not go out anymore… it was easy to forget what everything smelled like. I know the scent of home. Everything else is so new. So overwhelming.”

Baelor is processing your words. His brows furrow, “what does home smell like?”

You smile at the question, “it smells like my mother cooking, or the sweat of my father after a long day of work… or Elliyah and I making a fire, and her being afraid of it spreading.” You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “It smells like my mother holding me close, her arms wrapped tightly around me and her lips to my forehead, reminding me that I am not a burden or awful for being different.” Tears threaten to spill.

Your chest begins to tighten.

“I don’t know how to ease this pain.” Your bottom lip quivers. “It is nice; talking to you,” and smelling you, “but I miss home.”

“You can make this your home.” It is a suggestion. Not a demand. No force is being applied.

“After Aerion-” your voice falters, you stop yourself. “People are afraid of me.” You remind him, “I’m different.” You pause. “Scary.”

“Do not speak that way.” He is stern with you, but he does not raise his voice.

“It is true,” Your eyes dart to the ground, before looking back up at him again. “People are scared of things they do not know, or do not understand.” You remind him. “And I’m afraid everything about me is completely unknown. Fuck,” You tense, your nails scratching over your scalp, “I think even my mother, the woman that raised me, found me scary at times.”

“I- We can help you.” Baelor is gentle. Oh, so gentle. “We can figure this out together.”

And suddenly, you think the walls you have been forced to build to keep others away are starting to crumble. He is sincere.

“Is that alright?” He asks.

You nod, “yes.” It is all you seem to be able to force out.

“Now,” Baelor takes a step back, “I think it is best you return to your bedchambers.” He smiles at you. “Please,” Baelor starts towards the door, “stay out of trouble.”

tag list: @white-olive @theariesview @amndstuckinwonderland @baelorandmaekarinparis @bimboreader @jellyforbrains @qardasngan @everyday-is-all-there-is @hello-lemons @youngkingdomnacho @obamnas-soda @lareinamorgan @joumase @janedukiesworld

if I somehow missed you on my tag list, please gently remind me to add you. I promise I'm not being this way on purpose!

[tansyandtulips]

Thinking about posting my fic on ao3 but I'm genuinely scared of ao3 for some reason ?? Idk why I'm always so scared someone will be mean to me 😭😭

Should I post it over there, as well as here?

[tansyandtulips]

A Gift from the Gods

[Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen x Fem Dragon! Reader]

Chapter II

Your sister seems to hate you, and you are now more alone than ever in a place you do not know, with people who want to know the extent of your power. People who may want your power.

[Prologue] [Chapter I]

Warnings: Reader has dragon features (horns, sharp teeth and nails, and some scales), age-gap (reader is written to be in her 20s), she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta'd, no use of y/n, canon typical Aerion, slight mention of pregnancy (nothing too serious)

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I'm playing with these characters like little dolls and having so much fun, I'm almost not sorry. You have banter with Maekar in this, because I love him. Aerion gets worse, don't worry! next ch. we get to see what reader can really do! divider by @/honeyluvsw

The memory of your sister slapping you is burned into your brain. It has been seven hours since her departure, so it is fresh. Oh, so fresh.

You stand beside the large window in your bedchambers. You look out at the night sky and inhale slowly, before loudly exhaling. You know there was no way your sister was going to be allowed to stay with you, even if she seemed to want to.

“She never said she hated me…” You are trying to rationalize everything that happened. Your voice breaks as you speak. You wonder what Elliyah could possibly be doing right now.

“Who are you talking to?” Marielle swallows hard after asking the question. She knows there is no way you are speaking to her, but she needs to make sure.

You turn to her and heat prickles across your cheeks. “Sorry, I-” you grimace, “I didn’t mean to say that aloud.” You take a step back from the window and look at Marielle. She shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. You pout. “You do not have to be scared.” Your eyes soften. “It’s not always easy for me to read people,” you admit, “but I can smell fear.”

This does not help your case; you find that out rather quickly. Marielle tenses and her eyes widen. She shakes her head and immediately fixes her posture. Your shoulders drop and you let out a whine of frustration.

“I don’t mean to frighten you!” You take a step towards her. She does not move backwards, but she does flinch. You place your head in your hands. “I should have never left home…”

You mumble some swears under your breath and huff. Marielle relaxes, even if just for a moment, and she shuts her eyes. They open again, and land on you. You are hunched over, holding your face in your hands.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she begins, “it is no life, being holed up in your house, not being able to see the outside world, because you are scared of what might happen to you.”

You look up at her through your fingers, “this is better?” Your voice is muffled by your palms.

She shrugs, “I didn’t say that.” You let out a groan and throw your head back. “But we don’t know!”

“You’re right. We don’t know.” You walk towards your bed and sit on the edge of it. “I could just be locked up here for the rest of my life, for all we know.”

Marielle does not have a comment it seems. You fall back onto the soft bed and throw your arms out beside you. You want to sulk by yourself. “Marielle,” you keep looking at your ceiling, “can I be alone?”

She seems to understand. “Yes, m’lady.” She leaves against her better judgement.

You lay there for a little while in silence. Moonlight seeps into the room, almost enough to keep you awake. You are not used to a bed so comfortable, either. It is odd. You groan and sit up, pushing yourself off of the bed. You walk towards the door and leave your room.

You begin to retrace the steps you had taken earlier with Egg, trying to take all of your new surroundings in. It is nice at night, not so many people to frighten you.

That is until a guard catches you.

“M’lady,” a stern voice catches your attention. You turn towards the voice, “it is late. You are supposed to be in-”

“I'm not trying to run away,” you reassure him. “I'm just- I needed air.” You smile at him.

The guard steps towards you. “I'll lead you back to your bedchambers.”

You take a step away from him. “No.” You shake your head. “I don't want to.”

You did not realize, that was not an option. The guard goes to grab you. You dodge his hand and let out a confused noise. Your reflexes are quicker than his, he does not know this. His hand darts towards you again and you grab it. You know you can easily break all of his fingers, yet you know that is a horrible idea.

You are not known for having good ideas.

The guard panics. His eyes widen as your grip tightens on him, your nails digging into his skin, causing his legs to buckle. His other hand goes to your wrist, and he tries to pry you off of him.

Suddenly, a scent hits your nose, it is musky and heavy. A Targaryen no doubt. Your name rings in your ears and you tense. This causes the guard to let out a strangled noise. You turn towards the familiar voice and find Maekar approaching.

You let go of the guard and place your hands behind your back. The guard hits his knees and grabs his hand. You know you did not break any bones, but the grip you had on him was definitely causing pain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Maekar asks.

You begin to panic. “I was-”

“Not you.” His eyes are on the guard. You want to feel relief, but you know you are not in the clear yet. “Go to the study.” He motions for you to leave. You do not hesitate to listen to him.

You hurry off, noting that Maekar does not do anything to that man until you are out of earshot. You open the door to the study and close the door, your back flush with the wood. You wince as, who you can only assume is the guard from earlier, lets out a pained yell. It is distant. Maekar had tried to wait until you could not hear him.

Too bad you have better hearing than the average person.

“Fuck-” You whisper to yourself, eyes shut tight. You do not see Baelor leaning against the desk across the room.

His eyes narrow before amusement falls across his face. “I assume you couldn’t sleep?”

Your eyes snap open and you gasp. “No, Your Grace,” you lean further back into the heavy door, “I am restless.” You admit.

“Rightfully so.” He stands up straight. His eyes do not leave you. “And, please,” his tone is soft and his words are thought out, “call me Baelor.” He takes a step towards you and your breath catches. A funny feeling begins to form in your stomach. You nod at him. “If anyone deserves a special title, it is you.”

He takes a moment to admire your horns. You swallow hard. His eyes drop to the scales visible on your shoulders and in your collarbones. Baelor’s eyes do not dare wander further down. He has not gotten such a good look at you, not since you fainted in his arms.

“It is marvelous.” He does not reach for you, or poke and prod. He admires you, with his hands behind his back. You feel as if his gaze is causing you to shrink. You are pulling into yourself. “You should be proud.” His eyes move back up to yours.

You nod at him, mouth slightly agape. Words do not make it from your brain to your mouth. Baelor smiles at you. You can tell, once again, it is supposed to be comforting. And while it is more comforting this time than any time before, your body does not let you relax. You are on fire, now more than ever.

The door behind you opens, shoving right into the prince. You let out a yelp as you stumble forward. Baelor is quick to catch you and pull you out of the way of the door. He steadies you. You know he can feel just how warm you are. He does not comment on it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Maekar huffs, walking into the room. “I am talking to you now.” He shuts the door behind him and looks at you and his brother. Baelor lets go of you, but Maekar only continues to scowl.

“Did you hurt that man?” You ask him, your brain becoming less foggy.

Maekar scoffs. “You were going to hurt him.”

“What?” Baelor’s brows furrow.

You are getting hot for a different reason now. “He tried to grab me. I didn’t want to go back. I wasn’t doing anything wrong!”

Maekar puts a hand up. Oh, that’s where Aerion gets it from, you think to yourself. “You were supposed to be asleep.” Maekar walks past you and towards the desk. He looks over the books sitting on it and then turns back towards you. “But he should not have touched you.”

“So, what did you do?” Your voice is strained.

“Well,” suddenly, amusement falls upon him, “I didn't break his hand like you were going to do.”

A strangled noise slips past your lips. Your eyes cut to Baelor, and he seems to grow more confused. “He should not have grabbed me!” You defend yourself.

Maekar shrugs, “It was handled.” He is speaking more to Baelor than to you. An awkward tension settles in the room. Your eyes peer over at the books on the desk, and you cannot help but wonder what they have been studying. Maekar notices your eyes wandering and leans back on the desk. “My brother and I, we have been trying to find anything pertaining to… you.”

You look between the men and your head tilts. “Uh, did you find something?” You are curious. You want to know more about yourself. Your condition.

“No.”

They say it at the same time. You pout.

“There is nothing about people like you.” Maekar’s eyes wander to your horns. Briefly, you wonder if he is admiring you or not. He does not stare at you in the way Baelor had, but his gaze does linger. Longer than you are comfortable with.

You hug yourself tightly.

Baelor and Maekar look at each other and back at you. “There is no documentation of people like you. No information on your capabilities, your lifespan, where you came from.” Baelor informs you.

You almost make a smart remark about where you came from. You bite your tongue. You process the information they are giving you. You are one of a kind. Realization hits and your breath catches in your throat.

“Fuck,” your eyes widen, “I am going to be locked up here.” You cannot catch your breath. You begin to hyperventilate. Maekar and Baelor look at you in stunned confusion. You try your best to inhale a steady breath and when the scent of everything, but home begins to overwhelm you, it only causes you to grow more upset.

Baelor says your name, it sounds distant. You turn your head towards him and swallow hard. Your hand goes to your chest, lying flat on the skin. The room starts to spin.

When your sister was on the grounds, you had some sense of home. You could pick that scent out from afar, you are sure of it. And now, it is gone. You are stuck in an unfamiliar place with even more unfamiliar people; with no one you know. You are going to be sick.

“I have-” You choke the words out, “I have nothing!”

Maekar does not understand. “You have nothing? You could have anything you asked for.” Something you aer not used to.

“I want my family.” You finally let out a sob.

Anything but that, it would seem. Maekar makes a face and Baelor steps in front of you, blocking Maekar from your line of sight. He does not want you to do something stupid.

“You are a dragon,” Maekar does not stop. “They are not your family.”

Baelor swats behind him, motioning for his brother to stop. Your bottom lip quivers as you look around Baelor, right at Maekar. You feel silly. You are a grown woman, wanting nothing more than the embrace of your mother. But she has been all you have known your entire life.

The tears do not stop. Your jaw clenches and you sneer at Maekar. Baelor moves, again, trying to keep your focus on him. It works. Your eyes focus on Baelor and your face drops.

“I don’t know what you are not understanding…” You are looking at Baelor but mainly speaking to Maekar. “It doesn't matter to me whether I was born from her or not, she is my mother.” You finally catch your breath. You inhale shakily and your arms fall to your sides. “I didn’t get to tell her goodbye.”

“You ran away.” Maekar goes in on you again. He is right.

Your face scrunches, “I didn’t think-”

“That seems to be a common occurrence.”

“Maekar!” Baelor reprimands his brother, turning back towards him. “Do not speak to her that way.”

“Brother,” Maekar steeples his fingers, “she needs to be more thankful-”

Baelor’s back is turned to you now. You look around him, at Maekar, and watch the two. You wonder if they are going to fight the way you and your sister did when you were younger. Those were not too much of fights as they were you beating her until she said sorry…

“She is grieving.” Baelor defends you.

Yes, I’m grieving. You make a face at Maekar as Baelor says that. Maekar shakes his head and begins to walk off from the both of you. Neither of you stop him.

“This whole fucking place is mad.”

You watch him leave and look back at Maekar. “What were you two talking about?” You look at Baelor. “Before Maekar found me in the hall.”

Baelor sighs. “My brother believes you are a powerful asset to us. He is not wrong.” Baelor walks towards the desk and sits in the chair. “However, he is not going about this the correct way.”

Your head tilts in confusion and one of your brows raises at him.

“Maekar believes that you can help us become even more powerful.”

“How?” You have some ideas, but you want to know exactly what his intentions are.

Baelor sighs. He does not seem to want to tell you. How bad can it be? You feel like you are waiting for ages when he finally answers. “By giving us an heir.” Us?

Your mouth clamps shut and your nose scrunches. You sneer at him. “No!” You bark the word out at him. You are not sure, especially, if kids are even an option for you. You do not want to think about it.

Baelor puts his hands up, “he is not going to make you do anything.” He reassures you.

“So,” you are more anxious than angry now, “what is the correct way to go about me being here?”

Baelor shrugs. “You're being here changes everything. There is no telling the extent of what you can do, for yourself or us.” He leans back in his seat and his eyes lock onto yours. “What have you always wanted?” The question comes out of nowhere. “When you were stuck hiding who you were, what did you want?”

You do not even have to think about it.

“Freedom.” You answer quickly. “The sun on my skin, the wind in my hair. And, perhaps, for people other than my family to like me.”

Baelor nods.

“I was different before it was even visible. Kids my age didn’t like me because I didn’t quite get them. Or, because I was mean from not understanding them. And then, when the visible changes were no longer able to be hidden, I was kept inside. With nothing. No one, except my family. They love me.” You do not sound so sure all of the sudden. “They didn’t have to. Father could have taken care of me. Mother could have given me up.” Tears prick your eyes again. Your voice breaks as you speak, “Elliyah never told anyone about my condition.”

Until she was thrown in front of Baelor.

You grow angry thinking about it. She seemed to want to give everything up as soon as she was asked. You can understand her fearing what would happen if she had not done that. But her wording was not something you had expected.

Her turning on you was not something you expected, at all.

“You will have freedom here.” Baelor tries to shift your mood. You know that is not completely true though. “We have everything you will need.” That is the truth. “Please, bear with me while we figure you out.”

“Figure me out?” You question him.

Baelor nods. “We cannot have you coming and going as you please yet, not until we know more about you. Until then, you are free to stay on our grounds, there is plenty to do.”

That gives you some hope. Hope that you may not be locked away forever, used as only some device for power in whatever ways they see fit.

“You seem tired now, you may return to your bedchambers.”

The guards and servants are very much so not used to seeing someone like you wander around. Their eyes follow you when you walk by. They do not dare speak ill of you, even behind your back, but their wide and frightened eyes tell you all you need to know.

“Do you think they’ll get used to me?”

You are outside with Marielle. She makes a face, for a second, and then sighs. “Surely.” She gives you a soft smile. “You are not as scary as you look.”

“Thanks?”

Marielle backtracks immediately. “Not that looks matter!” Her hands go up. “I think that-” Here the scent of fear comes again. Your face softens. “I think that you are nice, and people will see that.”

You nod at her. “Thank you.”

Marielle’s eyes dart behind you and your brows furrow. You turn to find Aerion walking towards you. Your jaw clenches.

“You.” He points to Marielle. “Leave.” She does not question him. She scurries off, you watch her before turning back to Aerion.

“Why did you do that?” Your voice is level, but your expression hardens.

Aerion rolls his eyes, scoffing. “No one around here deserves to be in your presence. Especially someone like her.” You assume he does not include himself in ‘no one’. You hold back on rolling your eyes at him.

“Aerion,” Your fingers curl into your palm before relaxing, “do not start with me.”

He does anyway.

“It’s a tragedy you were not placed here, with us, when you were…” He trails off.

Hatched is what you want to say, to fuck with him. You prefer to not strike his nerves.

“Doesn’t matter,” he waves his hand. “All that matters is you are here now.” He gets closer to you. You do not move, in hopes to assert dominance. He is almost on top of you. “I want to know what you are capable of.”

Your brows furrow. You begin to answer him. “Oh, I’m not sure, Baelor is going to help me figure that out.”

Seems you have struck a nerve anyway.

“Uncle!?”

This time, you do take a step back. He is being too loud. You have agitated him.

“You are going to fuck my uncle?” He takes a step towards you and his lip curls up. He huffs. “Fuck!”

You realize what he meant now. “I’m not fucking anyone!” You put your hands up. “You think I’m fucking your uncle!?”

Aerion freezes.

“I am not producing an heir for anyone. I will not partake in that.” You turn your nose up at him. Without thinking you continue, “I’m especially not producing an heir with you.”

You turn away from him and begin to walk off. His eyes never leave you. You feel his stare on your back. And then you hear him start walking towards you. Fuck. You walk faster, hoping you do not cause a scene. In your state of fear, you forget that you can run faster than him.

He is on you in seconds, his hand grabbing your arm and turning you back around to him. His eyes are narrowed.

“Do you really believe you can speak to me that way? And get away with it?” His voice is low and full of venom.

Then you smell that familiar scent. Maekar is approaching. You are not sure how you feel about him at the moment, but how he stepped in with the guard was nice.

“Yes.” You smile at Aerion.

His grip on your arm tightens and he opens his mouth to speak.

“Aerion!” Maekar yells, stopping Aerion in his tracks. “Let her go!” He approaches quickly. Aerion turns, his hand dropping from your bicep. “No one is to touch our guest…” He snatches Aerion back from you and pulls him close. “This includes you.” He turns Aerion around, away from you, and pushes him forward, careful to not knock him over but with enough force to make him know he needs to go.

“Don’t want to end up like the guard.” You laugh. You are still not sure what happened to him.

Maekar and Aerion both glare at you. Maekar does not need your smart remarks. “Go.” He points for Aerion to leave. Aerion hesitates, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. Maekar motions for him to leave and Aerion walks off grumbling. “You.” He points to you. “Good guests don’t cause this much trouble.”

“Good thing I'm not a guest.” I’m more like a prisoner. You give Maekar a deadpan stare.

Maekar inhales sharply and his eyes narrow. “Learning to behave would do you some good.”

Behavior had not really been an issue once your mother kept you home. When you were younger things were different. But when you had only your family to talk to, to care for you, you behaved well enough; all things considered.

“I behave well enough.” You bite back.

Maekar raises a brow at you, “If you don't talk back, maybe.” He shakes his head. “Your mouth is going to get you in trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “What are you going to do about it?” It comes out before you can think. There you go again, not thinking.

Maekar’s eye twitches. He bites his tongue. He closes his eyes, thinking before he speaks. “My brother and nephew are waiting for you.” He opens his eyes and they meet yours, “at the training grounds. I’ve come to take you over there.”

Your brows furrow. What could they possibly want? You do not ask out loud. You do not want Maekar to snap at you. You follow behind him; you know the whole walk there is going to be awkwardly silent.

tag list: @white-olive @theariesview @jellyforbrains @amndstuckinwonderland @bimboreader @qardasngan @baelorandmaekarinparis @everyday-is-all-there-is @youngkingdomnacho @hello-lemons

Let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list <3

[tansyandtulips]

Literally me when I'm thinking about where I'm going with my Baelor fic and I realize I actually have to keep writing to get to where I want to be

[tansyandtulips]

Went to a convention (baby's first convention) and got my first tattoo today (baby's first tattoo) !!

I'm fucking running on adrenaline holy shit this is so cool

[tansyandtulips]

A Gift from the Gods

[Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen x Fem Dragon! Reader]

Chapter I

You have always had to hide who you are. The people of House Targaryen do not seem to mind who you are though. Their kindness, however, will never match your mother's. Oh, how you miss your mother...

[Prologue]

Warnings: Reader has dragon features (horns, sharp teeth and nails, and some scales), age-gap (reader is written to be in her 20s), she/her pronouns used for reader, no mention of reader's house, not beta'd, no use of y/n, canon typical Aerion, mention of reader having hair (no mention of type/color/length though), family strife, may be OOC?? (i'm still getting used to these characters)

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I picture these characters as how they look on the show, I just wanted to say this. This chapter is kind of sad, don't worry though, my beautiful man Baelor won't let that lost too long. I sometimes hate naming background characters, but trust, if they are important, they get a name, so that I don't have refer to them only as their title over and over again. I am doing a tag list now! it will always be at the end of the fic. However, I may not tag for NSFT chapters! divider by @/honeyluvsw (i just wuv the divider what can I say...)

All you had ever known was fighting to live. Sometimes you would not get to eat for a couple days at a time. It was normal for you. You are not like others, so sometimes not eating did not hurt you as much as it did your family. You were hungry, but you were not dying.

After being excused from Baelor and Maekar, you realize just how hungry you have become.

And now, you stand in the kitchen, devouring.

You growl and grumble as you drag food to your mouth. Your teeth gnash together, ripping and tearing the meats in front of you apart. You have never seen so much food in your life. All laid out, ripe for the taking.

“M’lady!” A servant, several steps back from you, begins to panic. “You cannot do this!”

You do not listen. You are not in the right state of mind to listen. You reach the bone of one the legs you are eating and briefly wonder if that is something you can actually eat. You shrug your shoulders and place the bone down, looking for something else to eat.

Another servant runs into the room. You do not catch who she has brought with her.

“Your Grace, she will not stop!”

Footsteps near you. Someone clears their throat, but you do not care. Your hand reaches for some fruit across from you, cut and presented so nicely, and as you go to grab a piece, a hand gently grabs your wrist. You tense immediately and let out a low noise. Your eyes cut to the side, and you spot Baelor. Your hand goes limp and the fruit drops from your fingers. Your eyes widen and your back straightens up.

You do not pull away from Baelor. You stay there, his grip loosening ever so slightly. You blink a couple times at him, stunned. You swallow hard and wipe your mouth with the back of your free hand. Baelor gives you the softest smile. He is amused.

“I am- my apologies-”

Baelor laughs, releasing your wrist. You let out a nervous breath, wondering if you should laugh with him. “Let’s get you to your chambers.” Baelor begins to lead you out of the kitchen and down the hall. “You are lucky it was me they grabbed. Maekar would not have been so kind.”

You believe him.

“That was food for his children.”

Oh, wonderful. You have been up for all of an hour and are already causing problems. “I did not know, I-” Your eyes squeeze shut before opening again. You stop in your tracks, causing Baelor to stop beside you. “I had not eaten in days. I was unaware of how hungry I was, Your Grace.”

Baelor nods. “You do not have to worry about that anymore.”

You look down the hall, remembering how bad it used to get, how hungry you could be. “I can go days without eating. When I was younger- when I realized I was not like other people, I would give my portions to my family. Father never took them, mother was hesitant. But my sis- Elliyah… She needed the food more than I did.”

Your eyes hit the floor and your fingers fidget. You grow uncomfortable thinking about it.

“I did everything for her… And she-” Threw me to the dragons. Your chest rumbles thinking about it. “What did she tell you?” You are curious to know. “Before I woke.”

“Hm,” Baelor purses his lips, “she said that the two of you were running away. The horses you stole were from the stable you used to tend to when you were young.” As he continues, anger festers again. You try to keep your face from contorting with anger as he speaks. “You two got further than she thought you would, traveling for two days before being found.” Your jaw clenches. Baelor’s brow raises. “Is that not true?”

You cross your arms. “Where is my sister now?”

Baelor shakes his head.

“Oh! She does not wish to see me?” Your head drops to the side. You are about to cause a scene. Your arms fall to your sides, and you inhale sharply. She is still around. You smell her. She smells like home. Your home. And after everything, you still want to hug her.

“You need to rest.” Baelor reminds you. “You were stabbed.”

You have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. “I am fine.” You are. You heal differently than others. “It does not even hurt.” You huff out at him.

“Then,” Baelor places his hand on the small of your back, causing you to freeze, “you should at least change.”

You look down at the gown you are wearing. You sigh. Baelor is right. You let him lead you to your chambers. Heat prickles across your cheeks at the feeling of his hand staying steady on your back. His touch is firm and commanding, yet so gentle. He does not want to startle you.

All the way to your new chambers, his hand is all you can think about.

“Are you sure?” You look at the dress being held in front of you and cross your arms over your bare chest. The servant before you looks at the dress and back at you.

“Yes.” It is the only answer she can muster. Her eyes avert your gaze. Your brows furrow. “Uh,” She points at the bandage on your side, “would you like me to change your bandages?”

You grab the edge of the bandage and peel it from your skin. “No.” You reply. The servant gasps, covering her mouth. “It is healed.”

Sure enough. The place where the dagger had once entered is nothing but a small mark now. Barely a scar. The servant swallows hard, you hear her gulp. You smile at her, your sharp canines flashing, and she only grows more uncomfortable.

“Prince Baelor asked me to get you ready,” she reminds herself, nodding slightly, “he said there are people you need to meet.”

You do not fight with her. You have never had the intention of doing so, but she does not seem to understand that. You nod at her and let her help you get ready. You look at yourself in the mirror once you have the beautiful dress on. It is black and red silk, soft against your skin, hugging you perfectly. It is off your shoulders as well.

“They must really want to see my scales…” You whisper the thought to yourself.

“They are nice.” The servant whispers back. You startle at her response. Your eyes widen and you look at her with confusion. “You are beautiful, m’lady.” She still cannot look you in the eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat. Only your mother has ever called you beautiful. The feeling settling in your chest is new. Heat prickles across your cheeks again. “Thank you…” It comes out as a question more than anything.

Once the dress is on, you rub your hands down your sides, taking it in. It is beautiful. Scales and all. You give yourself a gentle smile and turn towards the woman helping you. “Thank you-” you stop yourself. “What is your name?”

“Marielle.”

You smile at her, your sharp teeth causing her discomfort once more. “Thank you, Marielle.”

She nods. “We have some time before you are needed. Let me do your hair.”

“Oh,” you shake your head. “These make it hard.” You motion towards the horns winding back from your temples. “Thank you, though.”

Marielle shakes her head. “I have been given orders.” She walks off and grabs a brush. As she walks back to you, she motions for you to sit down in the chair across the room. You oblige. Who is making her brush my hair? You think to yourself. You think it is Maekar. You huff.

Marielle walks behind you and starts fixing your hair. She is gentle. She does not pull a single time. She still seems apprehensive, her hands awkwardly trying to avoid your horns. As she gets to your scalp, it is getting harder to avoid them. A finger brushes one of them, and a chill is sent down your spine. You jolt upright and refrain from making any noises.

“M’lady! My apologies!" Marielle tenses, her hands falling from your head.

You are frozen. “It’s fine.” You force the words out. You try to relax back into the seat and Marielle takes a step back from you.

“I think that is good enough.” She gently pats your shoulder, letting you know you can stand.

A knock echoes through the room and your head turns towards the door. “The prince would like to see you now.”

You stand and make your way towards the hall. You thank Marielle for her help and exit the room.

The walk to wherever you are being led to is silent. The man leading you through the halls is tense. You smell fear on him. Your mother never smelled like fear. Your eyes watch the floor as you walk, your head hanging low.

You smell food again; you are near the kitchen. You know that cannot be where you are headed. You pass the kitchen and then you hear talking.

“Where is she!?” A voice you are not familiar with catches your attention.

“Be patient.” Maekar sounds like he is rolling his eyes. You want to laugh, but you know they are talking about you.

“Patience is not a word he is familiar with.” Someone else laughs.

“Valarr,” Baelor gives a gentle warning.

You grow more anxious the closer you get to the room. Two large doors open and you are led into the dining hall. The food you had been devouring earlier sits before the people waiting on you. It still smells divine.

You look up from the food and at the people sitting at the table. Baelor sits with Maekar on one side and a brunet boy you are not familiar with on the other. On the other side of Maekar sits two boys, both silver haired. His songs no doubt. One looks particularly mean.

The man who led you to the large dining area bows and takes his leave. You are left alone, once again, with people you mostly do not know.

Baelor says your name, catching your attention. You focus on him. “This is my son, Valarr.” He motions towards the brunet. You smile at him, your teeth poking out. You hear silverware clink against a plate and look towards the noise.

“You are real.”

Maekar groans. “Aerion.” His warning is not as gentle as Baelor's. Aerion stands, his eyes not leaving you. Oh no. Your eyes widen. “Sit down.”

Aerion does not listen. He starts towards you. You freeze. Your eyes move to Baelor and he and Maekar stand at the same time.

“When my father said there was a woman with…” He trails off, eyeing you up and down. You stand before him, unmoving. You know you can hurt him. But for the first time in a while, you feel fear. He is unsettling. “I did not believe him.”

Aerion reaches you. The room is tense. He eyes you up and down. You do not look away from him; you maintain eye contact. You do not want to seem uncomfortable.

“Aerion.” Maekar snatches his son backwards. “Sit down.”

You watch as Maekar drags him back to his seat. Your eyes do not leave him, and his eyes do not leave you. Your stomach flips. Baelor motions towards one of the seats across the table from him and you nod. You make your way towards the table and sit in front of the men. You are directly across from Baelor.

“Should I introduce myself?” You whisper. Maekar sits back down and huffs. Your eyes move towards him and then back to Baelor.

“We know who you are.” Aerion quips from the side. “You were poor and lowly.” He rolls his eyes. “You were found in a burning house, by some whore most like-”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse you!?” You snap at him, teeth bared. He struck a nerve.

“Do not interrupt me.” He barks back, putting a finger up. You let out a low rumble. The boy a couple seats away from Aerion tenses. “Uncle says you were stabbed; you fainted right in his arms.” You do not talk back this time, your stare hardens. “That does not sound like a dragon at all.”

Your lip curls upward into a snarl. “What is your-”

“Stop.” Baelor’s stern voice snaps you out of it. You grumble and sit back in your seat.

“My apologies, Your Grace.” And suddenly, you are not hungry anymore.

Aerion stands once more and leaves the room. Maekar groans but does not stop him. He watches his son leave. His lip curls up in disgust and he turns his attention back to you.

The boy furthest from you speaks up. “He is only angry because you grew up outside of here. He wishes that we would have found you.” 'We' meaning House Targaryen, you presume.

Of course he does. You nod at the child and take a sip of the drink in front of you.

“This is Aegon.” Maekar introduces the boy.

“You may call me Egg.” He smiles at you.

You feel the need to protect him almost immediately. “Egg,” You repeat, nodding. “You already know who I am,” You wince, letting out a nervous laugh. “I would say I don’t normally lash out, but that would not be truthful.” You admit to him.

A stench you are all too familiar with hits your nose and your face scrunches. Your head turns towards the entrance of the dining hall. Everyone else follows your eyes and a drunken man stumbles into the room. Maekar only grows more upset.

“You are late, Daeron.” That is all Maekar says.

Daeron’s eyes lock onto yours and he walks towards you. You do not feel as threatened by him. He is visibly drunk and, for the moment, seems more curious than anything. Unlike Aerion.

“You-” He points, “you are finally here.” His voice is low. His face contorts with anger out of nowhere and your jaw clenches. “You will only cause strife…” He takes a step closer to you. “I have seen it!” He raises his voice.

You look back at Maekar and Baelor. Maekar shakes his head. “Get out.” Maekar points to the door. Your blood runs cold. What is wrong with these people? You are really wishing you stayed home.

Maekar gets up from his seat and escorts his son out of the dining hall. You turn your back to the three left in front of you, trying to ignore Maekar and Daeron. It is not easy to pretend that did not happen. A guard walks into the room and bows for Baelor. He mentions needing him and Valarr.

Baelor sighs. “I do apologize for how this turned out.” He stands from his seat and turns towards Egg. “I trust you are more than capable of showing her around?” Egg nods. He seems excited about it. “Thank you.”

Baelor and Valarr leave.

Then it is just you and Egg. You take another sip of your drink as he smiles at you from across the table. “You can finish your food.”

You look at the empty plate in front of you. You have not put a single piece of food on it. “I don’t think I’m hungry.”

Egg gives an understanding nod. You stand from your seat and the both of you exit the dining hall.

Egg has shown you most of your new home. But still, all you can think about is your sister.

“Egg,” You know you should not ask, but you cannot help it, “do you know where Elliyah is?” You look down at the boy, head tilting to the side.

Egg makes a face. You wait for his response. He is finding an answer. “Yes…” It comes out as a question. Your brows furrow.

“I would like to tell her bye. She is leaving for home soon.”

Egg tries to change the subject, “oh, look! I can show you around outside-” You do not argue with him. He is a child after all.  You follow him without a word. He lets out a groan and stops dead in his tracks. You stop behind him and he turns towards you. “Can you behave yourself?” He whispers, getting closer to you.

Your hand hits your chest, and you gasp. “What makes you think-” You remember your earlier words. ‘I would say I don’t normally lash out, but that would not be truthful.’ You sigh. “Yes.”

“She is leaving now.” Egg admits. You did not think she was leaving so soon. “She didn’t say she did not want to see you.” You smile at that statement. “So, I don’t think it would be an issue, you seeing her off.”

You walk behind Egg. He leads you towards a carriage and you spot your sister. You can smell her fear. She is still scared. You hope that her seeing you can give her some relief.

“Elliyah,” your voice stops her in her tracks. She turns slowly towards you. Egg moves out of your way, and you run towards her. “Sister, I wanted-”

Elliyah puts a hand up, stopping you dead in your tracks. The heels of your shoes dig into the ground when you stop, and you pout at her.

“We are not sisters.” Tears prick her eyes. “I am going home. Where I should have stayed-”

You can feel something in you about to snap. You exhale loudly and start in, not letting her finish. “I did not make you come with me!”

Egg sighs behind you, his hand going to his head. He should not have trusted you.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Elliyah steps towards you.

The guards around you are about to move in, until you put a hand up. “I told you to stay home! The thought of our mother losing two daughters? That was too much to bear.” Your voice is getting louder.

You do not notice Egg taking off behind you.

Elliyah takes another step towards you. She is within arm's reach now, and still, all you want is a hug and a goodbye. “I am her daughter. You are not her daughter!”

The words cut into you like a knife. Tears prick your eyes and your bottom lip pokes out. “Elliyah… You know that- that is not true. She raised me as well as she did you.”

Elliyah begins to cry. You cannot pinpoint why. Your brows furrow at her. “Look at you!” She motions to your scales, and then your horns. “You are barely-” She cuts herself off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I am leaving now.” She turns her back to you.

“No!” You reach out for her. Your hand grabs her shoulder, and you are mindful as to not scratch her. “Please!”

All you need is a goodbye.

Elliyah turns back to you, shoving you off her. Her hand raises, you watch it. Time seems to slow as she rears back and her palm slams into your cheek. You let out a yelp. The physical sting is not nearly as bad as the emotional damage she is causing.

Elliyah gets in the carriage, and you begin to cry. “Please!” You reach your hand out for her. She does not acknowledge you again. “Please tell mother I love her!”

A hand touches your shoulder as you cry out for your big sister. You look over and find Baelor. He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “She will get home safely.” He promises you this.

Something in you wants to lean into him, feel his comfort. But you cannot. You look at him and frown. You gently shrug his hand off of you and turn away from him.

Without your sister, even if she hates your guts now, you are left all alone in a place you do not know. Left with people who are apparently even madder than you are. It is a fate you must accept.

tag list: @white-olive @theariesview @jellyforbrains @amndstuckinwonderland

[hello-lemons]

This is such a cool idea and so well written of course 🤲💖

Can i be added to the taglist? 👀

[tansyandtulips]

Thank you, I appreciate the nice comment and love that you read this!! Of course you can be added to my taglist!!

[tansyandtulips]

Sometimes I think about things that have happened at my work and want to do incorrect quotes just based on those incidents alone, because boy do things happen to me

[tansyandtulips]

Beff's AKOTSK Masterlist

ONESHOTS

Raymun Fossoway:

[Oblivious] - You adore Raymun. You are unaware that Raymun has caught feelings for you. Your friend, Lyonel, is willing to do anything to get you two together. (18+)

Maekar Targaryen:

[Patience] - You have been married to Maekar for a month, but not because you love each other. So, naturally, you cannot help but feel like he does not love you. But that is not the only issue you are fighting with. (18+)

Multi-Chaptered Fics

Baelor Targaryen:

A Gift from the Gods - You have never been normal, even before the physical changes. Your family finds it best to keep you hidden. You want to be free, but you soon learn freedom does have consequences. (eventual smut)

[Prologue] | [Chapter I] [Chapter II]

Divider is by @/honeyluvsw

[tansyandtulips]

A Gift from the Gods

[Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen x Fem Dragon! Reader]

Chapter I

You have always had to hide who you are. The people of House Targaryen do not seem to mind who you are though. Their kindness, however, will never match your mother's. Oh, how you miss your mother...

[Prologue] [Chapter II]

Warnings: Reader has dragon features (horns, sharp teeth and nails, and some scales), age-gap (reader is written to be in her 20s), she/her pronouns used for reader, no mention of reader's house, not beta'd, no use of y/n, canon typical Aerion, mention of reader having hair (no mention of type/color/length though), family strife, may be OOC?? (i'm still getting used to these characters)

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I picture these characters as how they look on the show, I just wanted to say this. This chapter is kind of sad, don't worry though, my beautiful man Baelor won't let that lost too long. I sometimes hate naming background characters, but trust, if they are important, they get a name, so that I don't have refer to them only as their title over and over again. I am doing a tag list now! it will always be at the end of the fic. However, I may not tag for NSFT chapters! divider by @/honeyluvsw (i just wuv the divider what can I say...)

All you had ever known was fighting to live. Sometimes you would not get to eat for a couple days at a time. It was normal for you. You are not like others, so sometimes not eating did not hurt you as much as it did your family. You were hungry, but you were not dying.

After being excused from Baelor and Maekar, you realize just how hungry you have become.

And now, you stand in the kitchen, devouring.

You growl and grumble as you drag food to your mouth. Your teeth gnash together, ripping and tearing the meats in front of you apart. You have never seen so much food in your life. All laid out, ripe for the taking.

“M’lady!” A servant, several steps back from you, begins to panic. “You cannot do this!”

You do not listen. You are not in the right state of mind to listen. You reach the bone of one the legs you are eating and briefly wonder if that is something you can actually eat. You shrug your shoulders and place the bone down, looking for something else to eat.

Another servant runs into the room. You do not catch who she has brought with her.

“Your Grace, she will not stop!”

Footsteps near you. Someone clears their throat, but you do not care. Your hand reaches for some fruit across from you, cut and presented so nicely, and as you go to grab a piece, a hand gently grabs your wrist. You tense immediately and let out a low noise. Your eyes cut to the side, and you spot Baelor. Your hand goes limp and the fruit drops from your fingers. Your eyes widen and your back straightens up.

You do not pull away from Baelor. You stay there, his grip loosening ever so slightly. You blink a couple times at him, stunned. You swallow hard and wipe your mouth with the back of your free hand. Baelor gives you the softest smile. He is amused.

“I am- my apologies-”

Baelor laughs, releasing your wrist. You let out a nervous breath, wondering if you should laugh with him. “Let’s get you to your chambers.” Baelor begins to lead you out of the kitchen and down the hall. “You are lucky it was me they grabbed. Maekar would not have been so kind.”

You believe him.

“That was food for his children.”

Oh, wonderful. You have been up for all of an hour and are already causing problems. “I did not know, I-” Your eyes squeeze shut before opening again. You stop in your tracks, causing Baelor to stop beside you. “I had not eaten in days. I was unaware of how hungry I was, Your Grace.”

Baelor nods. “You do not have to worry about that anymore.”

You look down the hall, remembering how bad it used to get, how hungry you could be. “I can go days without eating. When I was younger- when I realized I was not like other people, I would give my portions to my family. Father never took them, mother was hesitant. But my sis- Elliyah… She needed the food more than I did.”

Your eyes hit the floor and your fingers fidget. You grow uncomfortable thinking about it.

“I did everything for her… And she-” Threw me to the dragons. Your chest rumbles thinking about it. “What did she tell you?” You are curious to know. “Before I woke.”

“Hm,” Baelor purses his lips, “she said that the two of you were running away. The horses you stole were from the stable you used to tend to when you were young.” As he continues, anger festers again. You try to keep your face from contorting with anger as he speaks. “You two got further than she thought you would, traveling for two days before being found.” Your jaw clenches. Baelor’s brow raises. “Is that not true?”

You cross your arms. “Where is my sister now?”

Baelor shakes his head.

“Oh! She does not wish to see me?” Your head drops to the side. You are about to cause a scene. Your arms fall to your sides, and you inhale sharply. She is still around. You smell her. She smells like home. Your home. And after everything, you still want to hug her.

“You need to rest.” Baelor reminds you. “You were stabbed.”

You have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. “I am fine.” You are. You heal differently than others. “It does not even hurt.” You huff out at him.

“Then,” Baelor places his hand on the small of your back, causing you to freeze, “you should at least change.”

You look down at the gown you are wearing. You sigh. Baelor is right. You let him lead you to your chambers. Heat prickles across your cheeks at the feeling of his hand staying steady on your back. His touch is firm and commanding, yet so gentle. He does not want to startle you.

All the way to your new chambers, his hand is all you can think about.

“Are you sure?” You look at the dress being held in front of you and cross your arms over your bare chest. The servant before you looks at the dress and back at you.

“Yes.” It is the only answer she can muster. Her eyes avert your gaze. Your brows furrow. “Uh,” She points at the bandage on your side, “would you like me to change your bandages?”

You grab the edge of the bandage and peel it from your skin. “No.” You reply. The servant gasps, covering her mouth. “It is healed.”

Sure enough. The place where the dagger had once entered is nothing but a small mark now. Barely a scar. The servant swallows hard, you hear her gulp. You smile at her, your sharp canines flashing, and she only grows more uncomfortable.

“Prince Baelor asked me to get you ready,” she reminds herself, nodding slightly, “he said there are people you need to meet.”

You do not fight with her. You have never had the intention of doing so, but she does not seem to understand that. You nod at her and let her help you get ready. You look at yourself in the mirror once you have the beautiful dress on. It is black and red silk, soft against your skin, hugging you perfectly. It is off your shoulders as well.

“They must really want to see my scales…” You whisper the thought to yourself.

“They are nice.” The servant whispers back. You startle at her response. Your eyes widen and you look at her with confusion. “You are beautiful, m’lady.” She still cannot look you in the eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat. Only your mother has ever called you beautiful. The feeling settling in your chest is new. Heat prickles across your cheeks again. “Thank you…” It comes out as a question more than anything.

Once the dress is on, you rub your hands down your sides, taking it in. It is beautiful. Scales and all. You give yourself a gentle smile and turn towards the woman helping you. “Thank you-” you stop yourself. “What is your name?”

“Marielle.”

You smile at her, your sharp teeth causing her discomfort once more. “Thank you, Marielle.”

She nods. “We have some time before you are needed. Let me do your hair.”

“Oh,” you shake your head. “These make it hard.” You motion towards the horns winding back from your temples. “Thank you, though.”

Marielle shakes her head. “I have been given orders.” She walks off and grabs a brush. As she walks back to you, she motions for you to sit down in the chair across the room. You oblige. Who is making her brush my hair? You think to yourself. You think it is Maekar. You huff.

Marielle walks behind you and starts fixing your hair. She is gentle. She does not pull a single time. She still seems apprehensive, her hands awkwardly trying to avoid your horns. As she gets to your scalp, it is getting harder to avoid them. A finger brushes one of them, and a chill is sent down your spine. You jolt upright and refrain from making any noises.

“M’lady! My apologies!" Marielle tenses, her hands falling from your head.

You are frozen. “It’s fine.” You force the words out. You try to relax back into the seat and Marielle takes a step back from you.

“I think that is good enough.” She gently pats your shoulder, letting you know you can stand.

A knock echoes through the room and your head turns towards the door. “The prince would like to see you now.”

You stand and make your way towards the hall. You thank Marielle for her help and exit the room.

The walk to wherever you are being led to is silent. The man leading you through the halls is tense. You smell fear on him. Your mother never smelled like fear. Your eyes watch the floor as you walk, your head hanging low.

You smell food again; you are near the kitchen. You know that cannot be where you are headed. You pass the kitchen and then you hear talking.

“Where is she!?” A voice you are not familiar with catches your attention.

“Be patient.” Maekar sounds like he is rolling his eyes. You want to laugh, but you know they are talking about you.

“Patience is not a word he is familiar with.” Someone else laughs.

“Valarr,” Baelor gives a gentle warning.

You grow more anxious the closer you get to the room. Two large doors open and you are led into the dining hall. The food you had been devouring earlier sits before the people waiting on you. It still smells divine.

You look up from the food and at the people sitting at the table. Baelor sits with Maekar on one side and a brunet boy you are not familiar with on the other. On the other side of Maekar sits two boys, both silver haired. His sons no doubt. One looks particularly mean.

The man who led you to the large dining area bows and takes his leave. You are left alone, once again, with people you mostly do not know.

Baelor says your name, catching your attention. You focus on him. “This is my son, Valarr.” He motions towards the brunet. You smile at him, your teeth poking out. You hear silverware clink against a plate and look towards the noise.

“You are real.”

Maekar groans. “Aerion.” His warning is not as gentle as Baelor's. Aerion stands, his eyes not leaving you. Oh no. Your eyes widen. “Sit down.”

Aerion does not listen. He starts towards you. You freeze. Your eyes move to Baelor and he and Maekar stand at the same time.

“When my father said there was a woman with…” He trails off, eyeing you up and down. You stand before him, unmoving. You know you can hurt him. But for the first time in a while, you feel fear. He is unsettling. “I did not believe him.”

Aerion reaches you. The room is tense. He eyes you up and down. You do not look away from him; you maintain eye contact. You do not want to seem uncomfortable.

“Aerion.” Maekar snatches his son backwards. “Sit down.”

You watch as Maekar drags him back to his seat. Your eyes do not leave him, and his eyes do not leave you. Your stomach flips. Baelor motions towards one of the seats across the table from him and you nod. You make your way towards the table and sit in front of the men. You are directly across from Baelor.

“Should I introduce myself?” You whisper. Maekar sits back down and huffs. Your eyes move towards him and then back to Baelor.

“We know who you are.” Aerion quips from the side. “You were poor and lowly.” He rolls his eyes. “You were found in a burning house, by some whore most like-”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse you!?” You snap at him, teeth bared. He struck a nerve.

“Do not interrupt me.” He barks back, putting a finger up. You let out a low rumble. The boy a couple seats away from Aerion tenses. “Uncle says you were stabbed; you fainted right in his arms.” You do not talk back this time, your stare hardens. “That does not sound like a dragon at all.”

Your lip curls upward into a snarl. “What is your-”

“Stop.” Baelor’s stern voice snaps you out of it. You grumble and sit back in your seat.

“My apologies, Your Grace.” And suddenly, you are not hungry anymore.

Aerion stands once more and leaves the room. Maekar groans but does not stop him. He watches his son leave. His lip curls up in disgust and he turns his attention back to you.

The boy furthest from you speaks up. “He is only angry because you grew up outside of here. He wishes that we would have found you.” 'We' meaning House Targaryen, you presume.

Of course he does. You nod at the child and take a sip of the drink in front of you.

“This is Aegon.” Maekar introduces the boy.

“You may call me Egg.” He smiles at you.

You feel the need to protect him almost immediately. “Egg,” You repeat, nodding. “You already know who I am,” You wince, letting out a nervous laugh. “I would say I don’t normally lash out, but that would not be truthful.” You admit to him.

A stench you are all too familiar with hits your nose and your face scrunches. Your head turns towards the entrance of the dining hall. Everyone else follows your eyes and a drunken man stumbles into the room. Maekar only grows more upset.

“You are late, Daeron.” That is all Maekar says.

Daeron’s eyes lock onto yours and he walks towards you. You do not feel as threatened by him. He is visibly drunk and, for the moment, seems more curious than anything. Unlike Aerion.

“You-” He points, “you are finally here.” His voice is low. His face contorts with anger out of nowhere and your jaw clenches. “You will only cause strife…” He takes a step closer to you. “I have seen it!” He raises his voice.

You look back at Maekar and Baelor. Maekar shakes his head. “Get out.” Maekar points to the door. Your blood runs cold. What is wrong with these people? You are really wishing you stayed home.

Maekar gets up from his seat and escorts his son out of the dining hall. You turn your back to the three left in front of you, trying to ignore Maekar and Daeron. It is not easy to pretend that did not happen. A guard walks into the room and bows for Baelor. He mentions needing him and Valarr.

Baelor sighs. “I do apologize for how this turned out.” He stands from his seat and turns towards Egg. “I trust you are more than capable of showing her around?” Egg nods. He seems excited about it. “Thank you.”

Baelor and Valarr leave.

Then it is just you and Egg. You take another sip of your drink as he smiles at you from across the table. “You can finish your food.”

You look at the empty plate in front of you. You have not put a single piece of food on it. “I don’t think I’m hungry.”

Egg gives an understanding nod. You stand from your seat and the both of you exit the dining hall.

Egg has shown you most of your new home. But still, all you can think about is your sister.

“Egg,” You know you should not ask, but you cannot help it, “do you know where Elliyah is?” You look down at the boy, head tilting to the side.

Egg makes a face. You wait for his response. He is finding an answer. “Yes…” It comes out as a question. Your brows furrow.

“I would like to tell her bye. She is leaving for home soon.”

Egg tries to change the subject, “oh, look! I can show you around outside-” You do not argue with him. He is a child after all.  You follow him without a word. He lets out a groan and stops dead in his tracks. You stop behind him and he turns towards you. “Can you behave yourself?” He whispers, getting closer to you.

Your hand hits your chest, and you gasp. “What makes you think-” You remember your earlier words. ‘I would say I don’t normally lash out, but that would not be truthful.’ You sigh. “Yes.”

“She is leaving now.” Egg admits. You did not think she was leaving so soon. “She didn’t say she did not want to see you.” You smile at that statement. “So, I don’t think it would be an issue, you seeing her off.”

You walk behind Egg. He leads you towards a carriage and you spot your sister. You can smell her fear. She is still scared. You hope that her seeing you can give her some relief.

“Elliyah,” your voice stops her in her tracks. She turns slowly towards you. Egg moves out of your way, and you run towards her. “Sister, I wanted-”

Elliyah puts a hand up, stopping you dead in your tracks. The heels of your shoes dig into the ground when you stop, and you pout at her.

“We are not sisters.” Tears prick her eyes. “I am going home. Where I should have stayed-”

You can feel something in you about to snap. You exhale loudly and start in, not letting her finish. “I did not make you come with me!”

Egg sighs behind you, his hand going to his head. He should not have trusted you.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Elliyah steps towards you.

The guards around you are about to move in, until you put a hand up. “I told you to stay home! The thought of our mother losing two daughters? That was too much to bear.” Your voice is getting louder.

You do not notice Egg taking off behind you.

Elliyah takes another step towards you. She is within arm's reach now, and still, all you want is a hug and a goodbye. “I am her daughter. You are not her daughter!”

The words cut into you like a knife. Tears prick your eyes and your bottom lip pokes out. “Elliyah… You know that- that is not true. She raised me as well as she did you.”

Elliyah begins to cry. You cannot pinpoint why. Your brows furrow at her. “Look at you!” She motions to your scales, and then your horns. “You are barely-” She cuts herself off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I am leaving now.” She turns her back to you.

“No!” You reach out for her. Your hand grabs her shoulder, and you are mindful as to not scratch her. “Please!”

All you need is a goodbye.

Elliyah turns back to you, shoving you off her. Her hand raises, you watch it. Time seems to slow as she rears back and her palm slams into your cheek. You let out a yelp. The physical sting is not nearly as bad as the emotional damage she is causing.

Elliyah gets in the carriage, and you begin to cry. “Please!” You reach your hand out for her. She does not acknowledge you again. “Please tell mother I love her!”

A hand touches your shoulder as you cry out for your big sister. You look over and find Baelor. He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “She will get home safely.” He promises you this.

Something in you wants to lean into him, feel his comfort. But you cannot. You look at him and frown. You gently shrug his hand off of you and turn away from him.

Without your sister, even if she hates your guts now, you are left all alone in a place you do not know. Left with people who are apparently even madder than you are. It is a fate you must accept.

tag list: @white-olive @theariesview @jellyforbrains @amndstuckinwonderland

[tansyandtulips]

I'm trying to get my best friend and/or sister to read the next part of my Baelor series so i feel more comfortable posting it and neither of them are responding to me I am going to blow up 🥰

[tansyandtulips]

A Gift from the Gods

[Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen x Fem Dragon! Reader]

Prologue

You have never been normal, even before the physical changes. Your family finds it best to keep you hidden. You want to be free, but you soon learn freedom does have consequences.

[Chapter I] [Chapter II]

Warnings: Reader has dragon features (horns, sharp teeth and nails, and some scales) and a named 'sister', implied age-gap (reader is written to be in her 20s), not beta'd, canon typical violence, no use of y/n, no house mentioned for reader (you are Poor and Adopted), the Targaryens find you and sort of... keep you?

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I'm going insane. This is set vaguely before the tourney. This is just the prologue, so your/reader's situation will be expanded on soon! I'm not going to lie; I was debating between Maekar and Baelor for this and still may throw some Maekar in because 🤪 I'm thinking about making a tag list, maybe... so if you are interested in that, let me know! divider by @/honeyluvsw

“Your cloak.”

Your older sister’s voice is soft, barely audible, but you catch it. You did not realize you had lost it during the earlier struggle, the only thing keeping everyone from seeing your differences. Your eyes widen as you look up at the prince standing before you. Your breath catches in your throat. His gentle smile is suddenly far from comforting.

You know there is a chance you could get away. You are fast and strong. However, your sister is not, and she will surely die without you. The sword laying between you and the prince is tempting you. Your sister seems to understand this, her hand moves to yours, keeping you in your place.

“Where are you from?” Baelor asks, his head tilting ever so slightly. No thoughts are forming and your breathing is turning ragged.

Your sister answers him when you do not speak, apologizing for you. Everything sounds so distant, and breathing is becoming harder.

Your hand gently brushes the stab wound on your ribs and your gasp for air. Baelor watches you closely, realizing you are injured. He kneels down to you, on your level. He is not scared of you. Your earlier display of trained claws and gnashing teeth does not stop him from checking on you. He gently pulls your hand from your ribs and lets out a low hum.

You watch him, not nearly closely as he watches you as your vision is blurring. Never thought I’d get to see the prince, you think to yourself. He is beautiful.

Baelor begins to speak again. It sounds like you are under water. You do not answer whatever question he just asked. Your brows furrow and your mouth falls open as you try to form some sort of coherent thought. Baelor understands what is about to happen. He grabs hold of you as your head falls forward and your eyes roll back. You fall limp in his arms.

The last thing you hear is your sister screaming for you.

“No!” She does not move, in fear of being killed. “Please! Wake up!”

You had never been normal. Even before the physical changes. It took you longer to learn how to talk. At least that is what your parents say.

“You were little,” You sister would tell you about your childhood, “barely able to speak. We were teaching you to talk, and most of the time…” She looked bewildered just recalling the memory, “you would babble back in ways we did not understand.”

Your parents had chalked it down to you being a baby. Even if your older sister did not act that way when she was little.

There was always a rage inside of you, hot and unbridled. It was hard to control when you were younger. For a while, you would only talk back. When you realized you could actually hit people, things started to go downhill.

You were eleven when you first noticed your strength. People around, specifically boys, had noticed your inability to know when people were joking or being sarcastic. You had learned quickly that laughing with people was the easiest thing to do. Until it was not.

“Oh,” one of the boys in the alley laughed at you. His friends laughed harder, leading you to laugh with them. “We are laughing at you!” He grabbed his stomach and doubled over. “You are quite dense!”

You finally registered that as cruelty. Your sister could see the wheels in your head turning. She knew you were about to do more than something verbal. You stormed towards the boy, dodging your sister, and you kicked him. He easily went down.

You broke two of his ribs.

You were fifteen when the physical changes started. Small scales started to form on the dry, itchy parts of your shoulders and collarbones. Nothing that was not easily hidden. You kept it from your family for as long as you could.

Your sister was the first to learn of it. She promised to keep it a secret. That lasted barely even a week.

Your family loved you regardless.

“I am cursed!” You would wail into your mother’s chest.

“You are a gift,” Your mother whispered, her lips against the top of your head, “placed here by the Gods themselves.” She would remind you of this often. You did not believe her.

When you turned eighteen, things only continued downhill. You had a headache on your birthday, only getting worse day by day. It lasted for longer than a week, you were sure of it. Time started to mesh together from the pain. One night, the pain became unbearable, and you wandered from your house, into the streets. You passed out in a puddle.

When you woke up the headache had subsided. Almost completely gone. The moon, high above you, shone into the puddle you had passed out in. You pulled yourself up and looked at the water. The person staring back at you was uncanny.

One of your hands flew to your mouth, a strangled scream releasing from your throat as your other hand touched your temple. A small horn protruding from your skin, sat on either side of your head. You felt sick.

You ran home. As you entered the door, you screamed for your mother. You needed her, then more than ever. Your sister was the first to come out of her room. Her mouth fell open once she saw you. Your mother rushed in behind her and once she saw you, her baby girl, so distraught, all she could do was hold you.

She reminded you again, “you are a gift. For me, from the Gods.”

At that point, your mother decided to keep you hidden. It was not hard at first. You did not want to deal with the outside world and the horrible people that lived in it.

Eventually though, you did crave freedom. You needed out. You never thought your sister would end up going with you.

You wake with a dull pain in your ribs. Your eyes squint open and you groan. You sit up and realize you are not wearing your bloody tattered clothes. You are wearing a long, black gown. It does not hug you, but it does slightly hang off of your shoulders, exposing your scales you so wish to hide.

You throw your legs over the edge of the bed and inhale shakily. You force yourself to stand and begin to walk towards the door. It swings open, a servant stands before you.

“Where is my sister!?” You bark the words at the poor woman.

She becomes startled. “Prince Baelor would- would like to speak with you.” She cannot even look you in the eye. You move towards her, with intentions of passing her by and finding your sister yourself. “But,” The servant steps back and in front of you, “you must change first!”

You growl at her, shrugging her off and walk out of the room. You inhale slowly. You catch the scent of your sister, she is afraid. You take off down the hall.

“Do not run!” The servant calls after you. “You are healing!” She begins to chase you down the hall. She cannot keep up.

You hear your sister’s voice. You run towards the noise and are met with two guards. They stand in front of the door that you know your sister is behind.

“Let me in.” Your voice is stern and low. They do not hesitate to move.

As the door opens you see your sister speaking with Prince Baelor. You step in and the now out-of-breath servant comes in behind you. “Your Grace,” she kneels in front of him, “she would not let me change her.”

Baelor’s expression is soft. His brother’s, however, makes your skin crawl. He looks like he wants your sister dead. Baelor excuses the servant.

“Elliyah,” You relax as soon as you see her. You can tell she is afraid, but you do not immediately catch her discomfort with you, “are you alright?”

You take a step towards and she tenses. Your head tilts. You reach out for her, and she takes a step back. You turn your attention towards Baelor.

“What did you say to her?” You want to fly off the handle. The only thing stopping you is the fact that he is Prince Baelor.

“Nothing,” He reassures you. “Elliyah was informing me of how you came to be.”

One of your brows raise, and you look at Elliyah. “What do you mean…”

Maekar rolls his eyes and groans. “For fuck’s sake-”

Baelor gives his brother a stern look. “What do you know of your childhood?”

Your eyes narrow at Elliyah but shifting back to Baelor. “I know that Mother had me several years after Elliyah,” you begin to grasp at straws as Maekar gives you a dissatisfied look. “I- I know I've always been stronger than others. When I was fifteen, these started to appear-” you motion to your scales, “when I turned eighteen my horns started to come in. Shortly after, I got these,” you bare your teeth, showing off your fangs.

Baelor watches with admiration, while Maekar watches you with a look you cannot read.

“Father found her.”

Elliyah blurts out the words. Your head snaps towards her, your jaw dropping. She does not look at you as she speaks.

“I was a child,” her eyes do not leave Baelor, as she recalls what had happened, “there was a burning house… It burned for two days. After it had burnt out, we heard crying from inside. Father went in and he found her, Your Grace.” She points at you.

“What…?” You grab your stomach. “No…” Your voice falters. “No. Mother said-”

“Look at you!” Your sister finally snaps towards you. Her voice cracks. “Are you mad?”

Tears prick your eyes.

“Has the thought of you not being from Mother’s womb ever crossed your mind?” Her voice is level now. She steps towards you. Your bottom lip begins to poke out. “You are not-”

“No.” Your voice is low now. “You are my sister…” You reach for her again, she takes another step back, making more space between the two of you. “Please…”

She shakes her head at you. Elliyah looks back at the prince and his brother. “I think I have told you everything you want to know.”

Maekar mumbles something. A language you did not learn growing up. A switch goes off in your head as he talks.

“Please deal with this, before I do.”

Your head turns towards Maekar and you let out a low, primal noise. “What would you do?” You growl back, in High Valyrian.

Suddenly the room shifts. Baelor’s soft expression, along with Maekar’s unreadable look, both change to that of amusement. You take a step forward, placing yourself between the men and your sister.

“You are putting your life on the line for her?” Maekar points at Elliyah and laughs, his eyes rolling. “She does not even claim you as her sister.”

Your jaw clenches, your sharp nails digging into your palms. Elliyah stands there, waiting for Baelor to give her the okay to leave.

“Elliyah,” the prince looks past you and at your sister, “you have done everything asked of you. You will be able to leave on the morrow.”

“What of her?” She points at you. You see it out of the corner of your eye. You do not dare turn towards her.

Maekar laughs again. “Now you worry?”

Baelor motions for his brother to be quiet. “We will take care of her.”

Your sister is escorted out of the room, leaving you alone with the brothers. You keep yourself from crying. Rage is bubbling inside of you. You are sad about how your sister just treated you. How could she leave you? But, even more than sadness, you feel anger. You want nothing more than to-

“Are you alright?” Baelor stands from his seat and begins to make his way towards you.

Your face contorts with anger. “Am I- Am I alright? Your Grace,” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip, “my sister just claimed-” You stop yourself. “I didn’t know.” You pout at him. “Mother said I was…” It clicks.

You are a gift, placed here by the Gods themselves.

You really did think she meant placed right in her womb. Everything you have been told is a lie. “Does my sister not love me?” Your voice breaks.

“She is not your sister.”

Baelor turns towards Maekar. As he opens his mouth to scold his baby brother, you snarl at him. “She helped raise me. She may not be blood,” you start in on Maekar, causing Baelor to place himself between you and his brother, “but she is my sister!”

Maekar scowls at you. You wish for nothing more than to wrap your hands around his throat and choke the life out of him. You shake your head and try your best to calm yourself down. Neither of these men are scared of you.

Your sharp teeth and claws, your scales, and your horns; they do not seem to care. In fact, they both seem interested. Especially now that your sister has exited the room. Maekar stands from his seat and walks towards you and his brother. He examines you closely. He raises his hand to touch one of your horns.

Without a second thought, you grab his wrist. Your grip is tight, a warning. Maekar groans and Baelor lets out a hum. You release Maekar’s hand and apologize. Maekar looks you up and down, holding his wrist. His expression is even more confusing to you than before. He seems upset with you, but you cannot truly tell.

“They are real.” You assure him. “Please do not touch them.”

“Who taught you High Valyrian?” Maekar questions you, his head tilting.

“No one.” You admit. “When you spoke it earlier, I just- I knew it.” Your childhood is starting to make a lot more sense.

You rub up and down your arm, anxiety starting to eat you up inside. Everything you have ever known is starting to crash down on you. “I assume I do not get to leave with my sister?” Your voice is quiet. Your eyes move between the two men.

It only makes sense; House Targaryen would want someone like you. You are an anomaly. There are no dragons, and yet there is you. You almost wish you had not run away now, at least then you would still have your sister and loving mother.

I didn’t even get to tell my mother goodbye… You sigh. Your eyes settle on Baelor, the silence in the room becomes deafening. “I understand.”

[tansyandtulips]

i may or may not write a Dunk x Reader x Raymun fic... they literally have me like 🤪

idk y'all the way Raymun immediately goes to bat for dunk?? UGH I LOVE THEM BOTH

[tansyandtulips]

I literally cannot find the post now (curse me not liking it 😔), but have y'all seen the art of Aerion having dragon features??

It has given me an idea... for a dragonesque(?) Reader and while i am writing this fic as we speak, i want opinions on if anyone would want to read something like that? I don't have many details sorted (i fly by the seat of my pants) so i can't give much away honestly. Please don't hate me for even asking, i just want to know if there is any interest in me actually posting it.

I'm rather new to the asoiaf fandom, so i have no clue what people in this fandom even like reading 😔

[tansyandtulips]

y'all... i'm listening to Human by Ellie Goulding and thinking about a reader who is Not Quite Human... but i am unsure of how people will perceive this fic 😔

[tansyandtulips]

Patience

[Maekar Targaryen x Fem!Reader]

Summary: You have been married to Maekar for a month, but not because you love each other. So, naturally, you cannot help but feel like he does not love you. But that is not the only issue you are fighting with.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MINORS DNI! mentions of wanting children, breeding kink, finger sucking, vaginal fingering, p in v, creampie, slight overstimulation, biting, marking, one use of 'good girl', no use of y/n, no beta reader

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: may be ooc but im trying my best. I got carried away again, and this made me realize i love baelor and almost made this about him 😔 anyway i made the reader's family/house ambiguous so be who you want. Reader really wants kids in this!! if that is something you don't want to read, please do not read this. Divider by @/honeyluvsw

You have been married to Maekar for a month. You had imagined marriage as being everything you had ever wanted or dreamed of. Loving the man you are with, and him loving you back just as much. Growing old together, having children. You had not imagined your family sending you off to the Targaryens.

But here you sit, crying as you read a letter from your older sister. Your tears fall silently, straight onto the paper in front of you, smudging the ink. It is becoming harder to read it.

The door of your bedchambers opens, and you tense. You quickly wipe your eyes and stifle a sniffle. You straighten your back and try to pretend you are fine. You sit completely still, as if he will leave you alone if you do not make any sudden movements.

He speaks your name; your bottom lip quivers. You turn, apprehensively, and find him standing there, within arm's reach. If this was not a marriage of convenience you would reach for him, and he would pull you into a hug, consoling you. But this is not a marriage formed from love.

“What has happened?” His voice is low. He stays where he is. He does not want to upset you further.

“I miss my sister.” Your voice trembles. You try to refrain from pouting. But you cannot help it. Your bottom lip quivers again, no matter how hard you try to stop it. “I- I am-” You wipe your eyes and stand. Maekar takes a step back, giving you room to leave if that is what you need. “I am acting silly.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “I know what it is like; having everything you love slip through your fingers. You are acting rationally.” You can tell he is trying to be reassuring. You cannot tell if it is his tone or your state of mind, but it does not help.

“May I-?” You motion towards the chamber door. Maekar nods. You inhale sharply as you pass him.

Maekar’s hand flexes as you brush past him. He wishes to stop you. You do not notice.

You make your way through the corridors, trying to find Egg. His presence seems to bring you immense comfort. You are sure it is because he feels the childless void you have in your heart. You spot him and as he hears you approaching, he turns. He spots you and gives you the softest smile. As soon as he sees your puffy eyes, the smile drops.

“Did father-” He starts. You shake your head.

“I have been reminiscing.” You cannot help but sound sorrowful. You try your best to not let Egg know how sad you are. “It is not easy being away from family.”

Egg scoffs. Your brows furrow. “Sorry.” He winces, “I can understand how leaving a loving family behind hurts.” Your sadness returns, this time for the child in front of you. “You do make things bearable.” He smiles up at you.

You smile back at him. “That means a lot.” You place your hand on your heart. “What were you doing before I found you?” You ask him, your head tilting.

“I was going to see about food.”

Your stomach growls at the thought of food. “Come on, I will go with you.”

You sit in the study with Egg. You sit with your backs against each other, a book in your hands. The only sounds filling the room are the pages turning and your soft humming.

“Are you humming?” Egg asks.

You stop immediately. “Yes. I was.” You admit. You know he could not only hear you, but feel it as well. He knows you were humming.

“You don’t have to stop.” He turns the page of his book. “It is nice.”

You feel put on the spot. You cannot continue now. You do not get to tell the child that; the door of the study opening stops you. Your head turns and you find Maekar standing there. His eyes hit yours and he does not look away. You tense.

“Egg,” Maekar still does not look away. Your stomach turns, “it is late.”

Egg does not need persuading. The child stands up from your spot and turns to you. He gives you a hug. It is quick, you barely have time to hug back, but it is reassuring. Egg lets go of you and leaves the room. You look back at Maekar, whose eyes have never left you.

Something seems different. Off. You hope it is nothing bad. You stand from your spot and wait for what he has to say. Silence continues to fill the room.

“Do you wish for me to return to-”

Maekar sighs, shaking his head. “You are not happy.” He states it. He knows it is true.

“You are no happier.” You sound defeated. “My sister, sometimes I wonder, if she had not been married… would you have her instead?” Maekar does not respond. “I do not think she would fare any better.”

Maekar’s eyes shut. He inhales sharply, tensing. His jaw clenches. “What can I do?”

Your brows knit together before your face relaxes again. Maekar’s eyes open. “I am not sure.” You are honest with him. “I believe what I want is not possible.”

Maekar nods. He knows you returning home is not possible. You both know this. However, that is not the only thing you would ask for if you could. You sigh. “Maekar, I am tired. I will be in our chambers if you need me.”

He nods at you. You leave without another word.

You wake up cold and alone. The sun is not up yet. You groan. Your husband does not touch you often, yet you have grown used to him laying with you. You have shared a bed for two months now. His warmth and presence are something you seem to not be able to go back to sleep without.

You know everyone else is asleep. They have to be. You walk back towards the study. You are sure you will be alone there. As you enter the study you are greeted with the sound of someone clicking their tongue.

You freeze in the doorway and find Baelor sitting in the candlelight. You blink at him, stunned. He is supposed to be asleep.

“Your Grace… What are you doing awake?” You ask, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” He gives you a gentle smile. He shuts the book in front of him and pushes it away. You think he is going to stand and approach you, but instead he motions for you to go to him. You oblige. You stand in front of the desk and wait to be reprimanded. You wait for some long speech. You do not get any of that.

Baelor sighs and looks up at you with a curious gaze. He is reading you, easily. “My brother says that you are utterly miserable here.” Your heart thumps against your ribcage. “I know it is hard picking up and leaving everything you know.” His head tilts. “That is not the only reason you are so upset, though, is it?”

You shake your head, tears pricking your eyes. “No, Your Grace.” You swallow hard. Your eyes shift from Baelor and towards the floor. “I have always wanted children. Even just one would suffice.”

“Your husband can give you that.” You already know this. He is your husband, that is what they are supposed to do.

You fidget. “He has children. I cannot bear the thought of-” You stop yourself and take a shaky breath. “Egg helps.” You whisper, still averting your gaze. “It is- it is enough, being able to care for him.”

“Is it?” Baelor raises a brow at you.

You hold back a groan. You know every single thing you have said is going back to Maekar. You might as well keep going since you are already this far. “I do not believe he loves me.” You finally meet Baelor’s eyes. “How could I ask him to give me a child?”

Baelor’s smile falters. “You should speak with him about this.” Baelor stands and begins to leave the room. “He is your husband. He should know where you stand.”

Baelor leaves, leaving you alone. Utterly alone. You blink your tears away and sigh. You think you held yourself together pretty well, all things considered. You think it would be best to return to your bedchambers. On the way there, you hear footsteps. You assume it is the king’s guard and when you turn the corner you are surprised to find it is in fact your husband.

A worried look is plastered across Maekar’s face. You stop in your tracks and watch as his eyes meet you. He sighs, relieved and makes his way towards you.

“You are not in bed.” Baelor has surely not gotten to him yet.

You shake your head. “You were not either. I woke up alone.” You say it as plainly as possible, no sadness or anger. “I-” You take a shaky breath. “I want to speak with you.”

Maekar nods and leads you back to your room. You enter and he shuts the door behind the both of you. You do not immediately turn to face him, and he does not step in front of you. He keeps his back to the door, waiting. Waiting on you. You look up at the sky, say a silent prayer, and turn to him.

You swallow hard and look down at the floor. You cannot look at him. “I spoke with Baelor.” You know he is going to figure out one way or another. Maekar immediately tenses. He does not move. “He said I need to speak with you; you are my husband.”

“Why did you-” Maekar groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. He pauses. You take this time to begin to talk again.

“Maekar, I thought caring for Egg was enough. Ever since I could remember I wanted a family of my own, and do not get me wrong, you and your family are mine now.” Your eyes peek up at Maekar, and as soon as you see his unreadable expression, your gaze hits the floor. “But I want a baby.”

Maekar takes a step closer to you. He grabs your chin and he makes you look at him. “This has been going on for a month?” His head tilts, his bright eyes meeting yours. You do not dare look away. “You spoke with Baelor, my brother, before your own husband?”

You nod, too frightened to say anything else.

“Why?” You recognize sadness in his tone.

“Well, ser-” He clicks his tongue at you, “Maekar,” you correct yourself, “I do not want to burden you with another child. Your hands are full as is.” You pout at him. “I cannot replace who stood here before me…”

Maekar lets out an airy sigh, before his expression softens. “I see how you care for Egg. I would be lying if I had not thought about you with a baby. My baby.” Your stomach flips. He grips your face a little tighter. “Would I be a good husband to deny you the things you desire?”

Your breath catches. You cannot swallow; your mouth goes dry. “Not tonight.” Is the first thing you say. It is the only thing that can come out of your mouth. Maekar seems surprised. “We have not-” You close your eyes, and when Maekar’s hand falls from your face, you look back at him. “I am not comfortable.”

Maekar hums. He is deep in thought, his eyes study you. “Not tonight.” He repeats back to you. Something about how he speaks to you, it washes away your doubts. He motions for you to go to bed. He follows behind you and you crawl in on one side, and he on the other. You lay there in silence. But for the first time in two months, it is not as awkward or heavy.

Your back is turned to Maekar. You feel him scoot close to you. The closest he’s been since the day of your wedding. Since your vows. Your breath is stuck in your throat; you are waiting for him to touch you. You are not sure how you would react. You feel better knowing he does not hate you.

You sit in the courtyard with Egg. It has been two days since you had talked with Maekar. He is not so prickly anymore. He is more affectionate with you. He is much softer, even Egg notices it.

“Father seems different with you.” He says it while looking at Valarr and Baelor sparring. He turns his head towards you, and smirks. “What changed?”

“Oh.” Your jaw goes slack for a moment, “we talked.”

“Are you…” He stops himself. “Were you scared of him?”

Your brows raise, eyes widening slightly. “No.” You shake your head. Aerion maybe… But not Maekar. “Your father has given me no reason to fear him.” In fact, it has been the opposite now that you think about it. “He has respected me.”

Egg nods. “You aren’t so stiff around him anymore.” Egg looks at Baelor before looking back at you.

“I was afraid, but not of him.” You reassure the boy.

He does not push further. You notice Baelor approaching from the corner of your eye and turn towards him. He motions for Egg to leave and the boy does so, without a word. Baelor smiles at you, a knowing smile. Your brows furrow.

“I trust you spoke with my brother?” Baelor asks.

You know he already knows. “Yes.” You nod at him. “It has been easier. Thank you.” You smile back at him.

Baelor sighs, “Maekar is less than pleased you brought your troubles to me first.”

Figures. You nod, “of course.” You stop yourself. “Your Grace, if that is a concern, I need not speak about it with you any longer.”

Baelor hums, “that is true. I only wanted to check on you. You are a nice addition to this family. Do not think otherwise.”

You hear a throat being cleared and Baelor takes a step back from you. “Brother,” Maekar intervenes, placing himself between you and Baelor, “I would like a moment with my wife.” You are sure that is one of the first times he has referred to you as his wife in that tone. Your stomach leaps into your throat.

Baelor does not protest. He leaves, heading back to his son. You look towards Maekar and wait for something, anything. Maekar’s jaw clenches and quickly relaxes. “Once,” he puts a finger up, “going to him once was enough.”

You gasp. “Maekar… He approached me.” You stand up for yourself. “I stopped it. You are my husband, not him.” You gently take his hand. “He was only checking on me.”

Maekar’s brows furrow. He seems to be holding back a groan, or a swear. “He does not need to.”

You squeeze his hand. Maekar does not give you time to respond to him. Instead, he places his hand on the small of your back and leads you out of the courtyard and back towards the castle. Suddenly, you are growing anxious of what is to come.

You are sure Baelor has made things more than awkward for Maekar. You are also sure that, at least by now, Baelor has told Maekar what you said just a couple nights ago. You know that Baelor would not keep secrets from him, especially one concerning his new wife.

As you are led to your bedchambers, Maekar seems to sense the tension. His hand is pressed roughly against the small of your back, so much so, that you are sure he can feel how tense you are through your dress.

As soon as your door is shut, Maekar steps into the room. You do not. You stand, your back against the door, and watch him. He is in thought.

“I will leave Baelor alone.” The words fall from your mouth.

Maekar groans. “It’s-” He mumbles a ‘fuck’ under his breath and rubs his temples. “Baelor says you fear I don’t love you.” 

“Ah,” you had been wondering when that would come up. “I had said that.” You nod at him, “we had no prior relationship before this marriage was arranged.”

Maekar grows agitated. “How do you think other people fare?” He takes a step towards you. You tense and shrug. “They do not fucking act the way you have been.”

Your bottom lip pokes out, almost immediately. “Maekar,” your words get stuck in your throat, and you try not to cry. “I- I- You have been married before…” You point out the obvious to him. “You are my first husband.” Hopefully your only husband.

“I am patient with you,” Maekar’s voice is low, he does not want to startle you, “is that not love?”

He has been patient. There are many things he has not done since marrying you. You nod at him.

“The past two days have been nice.” While Maekar is speaking softly, he still seems agitated with you. Going to Baelor may not have been the best move. “You have opened up more. The bed doesn’t feel so cold at night.”

“I will bring my concerns to you next time.” Your voice is a whisper.

Maekar lets out a low hum, his eyes fall to your lips, and you feel a heat pool between your legs. And suddenly, you want nothing more than to kiss him. You stop yourself. The silence in your bedchamber is heavy again, but this time for a completely different reason. You do not feel so neglected anymore. Instead, you feel a want. A need.

For Maekar.

“Maekar,” Your eyes screw shut, “I know I said no the other night,” you open your eyes and Maekar is smirking, “but I think I’m ready now.”

Maekar does not need any persuading. His hands cup your face. While you can tell he is not being as rough as he wants, his grip is still harsh, holding you still. His lips crash into yours and your eyes shut again. The kiss is fervent and full of need. Your arms wrap around his neck. He does not waste time, his tongue tracing your bottom lip, waiting so impatiently for you to open your mouth.

Your brain is foggy from everything happening so suddenly, so you do not immediately open your mouth for him. Maekar lets out a low, primal growl, and he pulls his tongue back from your mouth. It is replaced by his teeth. He bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp. As you do so, his tongue darts into your mouth. Your gasp turns into a moan and Maekar lets out another low noise.

Your back is flush with the door now; he has you pinned against it. His hands have moved from your face and down to your hips. Maekar’s mouth pulls away from yours and he begins to trail kisses from your jawline down to your neck. His teeth scrape the soft, sensitive skin, causing you to shiver against him. Your eyes roll back from pleasure while your head hits the door. Maekar presses his body to yours, the only thing in the way being your clothes.

Without thinking, you roll your hips into him. Maekar’s grip on you tightens and he bites the most tender spot of your neck. You let out a strangled moan and your eyes snap open. “Maekar.” You try to sound stern, but your voice is airy and full of confusion.

“Stay still.” Maekar does not even pull back to look at you. You feel the need to listen to him.

“Maekar,” You whine, “please,” you begin to beg. “I need you-” You cannot finish your sentence.

“To what?” He asks, one of his hands begins to travel towards the ties of your bodice. “Use your words.” He insists.

“I need to feel you.” Your look at him as he pulls back from your throat. “I need to get out of this dress.” You fight the urge to remove it yourself. Maekar is in control.

Maekar smiles and slowly undoes your bodice. Cool air hits you as your dress pools around your feet. Your face burns as Maekar eyes your body. His warm hand cups one of your breasts, chills quickly form across your skin. You swallow hard, watching Maekar eye you. You are left in only your panties, which also happens to leave you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Gods,” His eyes meet yours and he lowers his face, his lips hovering over yours. “You are beautiful.” His voice is strained. His hand massages your breast, gently pulling at your nipple. You cannot help but moan. He makes a mental note of how responsive you are and continues to see how far he can take the reactions.

Maekar’s free hand travels down your stomach, causing your breath to catch and your body to tense. His fingers dance across your skin as he makes his way to the waistband of your underwear. Maekar slips his fingers under the waistband, and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your hips into his hand. Maekar smiles again.

“Good girl,” he whispers in your ear, “you are learning.”

Your jaw clenches as he says that. You feel yourself getting wetter, the heat between your legs only growing hotter. You whimper as one of his fingers slips inside of you. Maekar, while beginning to work on your cunt, starts to kiss you again.

Through your haze, you realize one thing about Maekar, he is extremely calculated. He knows exactly how to touch you. His finger pumps in and out of your entrance and his thumb finds your clitoris. He gently brushes over the bud, and you are almost sent over the brink. You claw Maekar’s shirt and let out a whimper against his mouth.

Maekar does not pull his hand away from you, but he does pull back from kissing you. He looks down at your desperate form and clicks his tongue.

“You are fucking needy.” He shakes his head and his finger hits a spot you have never reached yourself before. “I will take care of you.” His thumb rubs a circle over your clit and the noise you make is breathy.

You can only nod at him. Your eyes glaze over as you grow closer to your orgasm. Maekar expertly inserts another finger and begins to coax you over the edge. Your knees buckle and the heat in your stomach is almost unbearable. Your entire body tenses and you lean into Maekar. He is quick to steady you, his body holding yours. Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open.

“Maekar-” you pant, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Fuck!” You hiss.

Your husband’s tongue clicks again. As you come down from your high, his fingers slip from your pussy, and he pulls his hand back past the waistband of your panties. Your eyes are shut, head leaning against the door, mouth slightly agape. This gives Maekar the perfect opportunity to place his fingers in your mouth, right on your tongue.

“Suck.” He commands. You look at him with half lidded eyes and nod. Your mouth closes around his fingers and you suck on them. Maekar groans as you taste yourself. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, causing a ‘pop’ to echo throughout your chambers, and his hands go directly to his own clothes.

“Go, lay on the bed.” He begins to undress himself. You pull your panties down and step out of those and the dress, walking towards your large bed. You lay down and wait patiently for your husband to join you. You watch him take his clothes off, your eyes still half lidded. Maekar’s eyes, however, watch you like a hawk. They are dark and full of need.

Once he is completely undressed, he makes his way towards the bed. Your hands mess with the silk sheets, fingers bunching the fabric up. Maekar is on you in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” He admits, “going to give you the baby you want.” Maekar pushes into you and you moan. Your hands ball into fists, the sheets pulling with them. “Remember, be still.”

“Yes, ser.” You babble out.

Maekar grabs your thigh, a bruising grip, and begins to thrust. It is nothing you have ever experienced, his thrusting is melodic and completely thought out. There is nothing sloppy about Maekar or his fucking.

Skin smacking skin fills the chambers. Your moans the second loudest noise. Maekar’s grunts are low and barely there. You can only hear them because he is in your ear, face buried in your neck. His teeth scrape your earlobe. Your hands move from the sheets and to his back. Your nails gently scrape up Maekar’s back, eliciting a low hum from him.

Maekar brings your hips up and begins to hit a different angle. You feel an overwhelming sense of pleasure almost immediately. You cry out for him to go faster. “Please!” You choke on a sob, “I’m close!”

Maekar huffs in your ear and his thrusts begin to pick up pace. A string of swears slip from Maekar’s mouth and his breath fans your neck.

You stay still for him, letting him move you how he sees fit, which you are sure is going to leave you bruised. Maekar wraps one of your legs around his waist, causing you to put the other up as well.

Maekar pushes himself up from your neck and his eyes lock with yours. He wants to see you come undone as he comes inside of you.

You move, hitting your forehead against Maekar’s, and your body tenses again. Your toes curl and your legs shake. Maekar holds your hips up and continues to rail into you. Your cries of pleasure echo through your bedchambers as you orgasm. Maekar is not far behind.

His pace does not falter. The feeling is odd, overstimulating, as he continues his thrusts. It causes you to whine under him. Your hips buck and finally Maekar comes. A low, gruff noise falls from his lips.

“Fuck.” He thrusts into you a couple more times, fucking his come into you. “I said to be still.” He does not look away from you. Maekar’s breathing is ragged. He falls on top of you, not daring to pull out. Not yet.

You lay limp under Maekar. Your chest presses to his as you both catch your breath. You do not worry about what he says. If anything, it just means you get fucked again. “Thank you.” You sigh out, eyes shutting as you put your forehead to his again.

“We will try until it takes.” He presses his lips to your temple. “If you listen to me, it won’t be long.”

You briefly think about not listening, so you can keep doing this. You are too spent to even think of a smart remark. So, you nod. The two of you lay there like that. You are sure Maekar has things he should be doing. Your stomach flips when you realize he is spending his time with you instead.

You take in the moment and only hope that there are many more like this.

[tansyandtulips]

I have an idea that depends on being able to actually write action scenes and guess what... I am really not that great at writing action scenes