Aemond Targaryen X Oc - Blog Posts

heavy in your arms. part one.

— pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: aemond seeks to right the wrong his mother made in rejecting the proposition of a betrothal between you & he.

— word count: 2,473

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @aemondwhoresworld @callsignwidow @tvangelism

— a/n: welcome to the first installment in my aemond x sg au! (NOT the dark!aemond au (which will be titled idumea, if/when i ever write it.))

“Why did you reject it?” Aemond demands, barging into his mother’s chambers unannounced.

She pads across the room toward him with clasped hands. She needn’t ask what it is her son is referring to, specifically, to already know.

Nor does she need inquire as to how he knows. The bastard girl he’s had an obsession with since the day she was born is most-certainly to blame.

She’s allowed them to keep company with one another for too long, it now seems. Such behaviors will cease today.

She gives him a forced, gentle smile. She knows his temper can be as hot as dragonfire when stoked, especially when it comes to his niece. If he makes a scene, she’ll simply have Ser Criston escort him back to his chambers.

She seats herself, gently patting the cushion next to her. “Sit.”

He comes closer, but does not accept her offer—instead choosing to remain standing, his arms positioned behind his back, his chin raised as he stands across from her. “Answer the question.”

A pause. 

“Mother.”

She sighs heavily. “She is not a suitable match for you. In time, your father and I will find someone more…appropriate—”

“More appropriate than mine own niece? My blood? A princess? One whom I already love and adore? I think not.”

She opens her mouth to to reply, but he continues.

“I won’t allow you to come between us. She belongs with me. You—you cannot take this chance—”

Having had enough, she cuts his protestations short. “It is done, Aemond! You know what she is! All do! It is why her mother optioned her own children for betrothal to mine; to protect them from what she has done by shielding them with either you, or Aegon, or Helaena!”

She sighs, before running her fingers exasperatedly through her hair. “I do not fault the girl for the circumstances of her birth; she cannot help it. I know this. But, as your mother, it is my job—my responsibility—to ensure you have what is best for you. Which she, unfortunately, is not. Were it so that Laenor were undoubtedly her father, things would be different, but alas.”

His small hands are bunched into tight fists behind him now, his body trembling with rage.

“Give it time,” she tells him quietly. “Once you are older, you with either find on your own, or with mine and your father’s help, a proper betrothal.”

He knows what he must do.

He nods, calmly, shoulders slumping slightly. “Forgive me, mother. You just…know how I care for her. I was not…did not think—”

She stands, walking around to him, taking him in her arms. “I wish I could give you this, my son, but your well-being means more to me than your wants at this time. One day, when you have children of your own, you will understand.”

The two of them pull away from each other, Alicent grasping the crowns of his shoulders, while Aemond rests his hands on her waist.

He gives her a smile of understanding. “I’m sure that I will.”

She gives him a kiss on the cheek, and with that, he leaves her.

Her greatest mistake will’ve always been not ordering Ser Criston to follow him back to his chambers. For they were never his destination.

“Your son, Your Grace: the Prince Aemond,” announces  Ser Harrold from the doorway of Viserys’ room. 

Aemond finds his father seated upon a settee before a roaring fire, a blanket draped comfortably over his lap, a stack of books set upon a table next to him.

Viserys smiles as the boy steps closer, bowing his head to his father.

“Your Grace.”

Viserys bookmarks, then shuts his current read, settling it into his lap. He waves Aemond over, who seats himself beside him, watching the crackling fire before them for just a moment. 

“Is there something I can do for you, my son? Or did you merely come to keep your old man company?” He asks with a gentle smile.

Aemond knows he needs word this carefully. “Both, in truth.”

Viserys remains silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I know…” 

He pauses. 

“I know you wish to see us settled, father, just as you did Rhaenyra. Properly betrothed, at the very least. So you might… It may give you comfort. To know that we are content, that is. I cannot speak for my siblings—what, or who they may want this day or another, but I know who I desire for all the rest of mine.”

He meets his father’s eyes. “Y/N.”

Viserys settles back, studying him with an unreadable expression.

“I am aware, that, just this afternoon, mother—Her Grace—rejected an offer of betrothals of her own children to those of your daughter—my eldest sister—Princess Rhaenyra. I want you to reconsider. For my sake and Y/N’s, if no one else’s. We love each other. We always have, and I know that we always shall. I cannot…I cannot bear the thought of a life without her. I will never love another as I love her.”

He swallows thickly. “She cried in my arms when she told me that her hopes that her mother’s offer would be accepted had instead been refuted. And her heart, in turn, was shattered. Along with mine own.”

He takes his father’s weathered hand in his own. “I beg of you, father, please. Please do this. Give her to me and I to her. So we might be pronounced man and wife when you deem the time right once we’ve come of age. I’ve never asked you for anything. But I do this. I’ll do anything you say.”

He swallows. “I know your family means more to you than anything else.” 

He has oftentimes felt the opposite with how indifferent he can seem to he and his siblings, but he must keeps such sentiments to himself. Now more than ever, even if he has craved his love and approval many-a-time in the past. 

He continues, plotting with his words. Planting a most comely idea. “Were you to betroth us, she and I would not only be able to remain together, but also here. Your son, your granddaughter. Your only granddaughter. If you wished it, this would be our home for the rest of our days. I know it would make her most happy. And that is all I’ve ever wanted: to bring her joy. To make her feel safe. And loved. Just as she has done for me.”

Aemond knows he has said much, but he had to stress his wants—had to ensure that his father was assured of his love and commitment to you. Especially with having gone directly over his mother’s head, so to speak.

Viserys is quiet. For awhile. 

Aemond keeps his father’s hand in his lap, holding firmly to it, so as to keep them close. He hopes he will be more likely to accept his request that way.

Finally, Viserys looks at him. “You truly love her, don’t you?”

Aemond smiles, nodding. “More than anything in all the world. It would ruin—destroy—me to think of us being permanently parted and one day married to others that we do not know. Did not grow up alongside of as the greatest of friends. We are family. To be forced to wed someone else that neither of us loves, while we remain yearning for the other until our last breaths…”

Tears brim in his eyes and his chin wobbles. 

Viserys’ face falls as he pulls Aemond into his side. “And you are sure that she wishes this as well?”

Aemond perks up slightly. “I am. You may summon and ask her yourself if you wish, father. When I left her she was crying in her mother’s arms. I had to…right this. For us both.”

Viserys shakes his head lightly at such a heartbreaking image. So much pain and young heartbreak, and for what? 

He will have it otherwise. 

“Consider it done, my son.”

Aemond looks at him with wide eyes. “We—We are—”

Viserys cups the boy’s cheek. “As of this moment, the two of you are now betrothed.”

He glances toward the door, placing his hand in his lap once more. “I will need speak with your sister on the matter, of course. But I know that she will be most pleased with this arrangement.”

He pauses. “Your mother not quite so, but it is not her decision. I am king. She is to obey me in all things. Including this.”

Viserys had been correct in Rhaenyra being happy about such arrangements, while you and Aemond had held one another and cried tears of joy. 

Viserys had held back his own as he watched the two of you with a smile, while holding his daughter’s hand. 

“This is a most joyous day. It is not often—hardly ever—that those of our stations should ever marry for love. With much luck, such a thing may be found later from arranged engagements. It warms this old heart to know that the two of you have it now, and shall remain with it in-hand for the rest of your days.”

It is then that Alicent emerges into his chambers, his summons for her presence having reached her.

And her disposition is anything but pleased. 

“Your Grace—” She starts, panicked tears stinging her eyes as she swallows down the lump in her throat. “If we may speak—”

Viserys shakes his head, resting each of his hands upon his cane. “There is naught to speak of, my wife. I have made a decision, and it is final.”

“Viserys—” She starts, reaching toward him, but he steps closer toward Rhaenyra, toward the two happy children who cling to one another, who stare at Alicent with…apprehension? Fright that she may ruin what they have only just found? He is unsure, but what he is, is that he will not stand for it.

“Your King has made a betrothal, and it is your duty to respect it. It is done, Alicent. And it is final. I would have my son and granddaughter wed to ones that they love. And now they shall gain as much once they’ve each come of age. It is only a matter of time now.”

She solidifies herself, her heart pounding, and a painful queasiness forms in the pit of her stomach, as she sees just how outnumbered she is. 

She has always been. 

Has always been alone in this world, and will remain as much. 

And she sees further agency slipping through her fingers now. Her children she’d been forced to squeeze out of her young body, for an ungrateful man who hardly ever acknowledged them, is now to tell her what is to become of them? Is to give her yet one more command because she is what? Still yet a girl helpless to tell him no, despite all she has given him, whether she wished it or no? That is all that has ever mattered, isn’t it: what he wants? All else be damned.

No. She is Queen. A woman grown…even if she still so often feels otherwise. Has consistently since the death of her mother. The one person in all the world who loved her the way she needed be loved.

She will show her children that same devotion, even if they hate her for it. Because she knows what is best for them. Not him.

Doesn’t she?

“I will not have it.”

Viserys lowers his chin. “I beg your pardon?”

She takes a small step closer, clasping her hands tighter to hide how they tremble.

“He is my son just as much as he is yours. I carried him. Grew him in mine own womb. Pushed him out of my body and into the world. While you have shirked your duties to him as his father. Pushed he and his siblings aside in favor of—”

“That is enough!” Viserys shouts, slamming his cane against the floor, and Alicent’s chin wobbles in fright.

She wishes her father were here.

No.

Perhaps she doesn’t. He is to blame for this. For all of it.

She wants for her mother.

What if Aemond one day feels the same because of this? Because she did not try hard enough to undo it? He is but a boy. He does not know what he wants.

What if she has…failed him?

Viserys comes toward her, his cane clicking loudly against polished marble floors, his cloak swaying around him. “That is quite enough, wife. That is an order from your King! Is that understood?”

She merely stares at him for only a moment, wondering if he has ever held an ounce of love for her within his heart.

Why in Seven Hells did he marry her? She has often wondered. Wondered even more if she will ever have answer to such a terrible question.

“The Prince Aemond—my son—and the Princess Y/N—my granddaughter—are henceforth betrothed. If I discover further dissension on your part in dishonoring my wishes and my decree here today…”

He takes yet another step closer, forcing her to look up at him, making her feel impossibly smaller. 

Like a frightened little girl, indeed.

“You shall not enjoy the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

She does not know why she does it—she too is equally responsible for all the misfortune which has befell her, and part of her hates her for it—but she glances to Rhaenyra with tears still shimmering in her eyes.

Rhaenyra takes a near-undetectable step toward her—expression unreadable—but stops when she feels you clutching her skirts for comfort, Aemond holding you close for the same.

Her own son has betrayed her. Where had she gone wrong? 

She wants to lock herself in her chambers and rest. Perhaps not to wake.

That, she’s sure, would most please the man who stands before her. The pathetic excuse for one. 

And yet she knows that come tomorrow, she will return to her role as a dutiful wife, because since she was fifteen years old…it is all she has ever been. She knows naught else what to be than caretaker. A wife, a womb, a concubine. 

A ghost.

She’d once been and had a friend, but now she thinks those days must long be past.

Finally, Alicent nods solemnly, digging at her nail-beds.

Viserys nods. “Good. Then it is settled.”

Aemond presses a kiss to your forehead, filled with equal parts joy and guilt.

He prays his mother will one day come to see what he himself does when he looks at you. He cannot understand how she does not already.

If she loves him, she will love you as well.

He hopes so, at least. He would not have you feeling unwelcome in your own home. He will not have it.

You are now his to protect, and protect he shall. In every way he can.

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader mood board

Masterlist: The Hunt ; Night Off ; Neglectful Jealousy ; Devious Forgiveness ; Innocent Touch

Related Blog: @eraenaa (longer fics and one shots)

Your knight, Aemond, who was always by your side, no matter how much you tried to bribe him, he will not fall for it. He was always trailing you, refusing you to be out of sight, not because of duty but because he simply needed to be around you.

You knight, Aemond, who will always savor your scent whenever you are near him. Who would always find an excuse to touch your skin, may it be him offering his hand as you walked down the stairs or him wrapping his arms around your frame whenever the measliest of threats arose, disguising his passion as protection.

Your knight, Aemond, who would always stare down and intimidate any suitor of yours. Trailing closely behind as you tried to get to know them, always quick to go in between and meddle when he felt you were warming up with any lord or prince. Unable to stomach seeing you grow agreeable with your courtships.

Your knight, Aemond, who was always there the second you called for him. It does not matter if he has barely rested or eaten; the moment you send for him, he will be rushing down the castle halls, tending to your needs, no matter how insignificant or even frivolous they are. 

Your knight, Aemond, who would always listen intently to your babbling. Nodding along as you tell him your encounters for the day though he already knew because he was always by your side. Occasionally indulging you with his silver-tongued quips as he would sometimes be the one to share with you the latest gossip in court. 

Your knight, Aemond, who had been growing quite obvious with his affection for you. Sending you small tokens and flowers. He would often utilize the lie that the gifts were sent by an unnamed lord when, in reality, they all came from him. 

Your knight Aemond, who knew fully well that yearning for you would make no difference because whatever love you two would have for each other would be a love that would be denied and could not be, for how could a knight ever deserve a princess? 

Your knight, Aemond, who would settle to just being your sworn protector just as long as he had you near. Because as dreadful it was to see you be bound to another, nothing would compare to not having you near him; at those moments when he stood by your side, he indulged himself with a fantasy and pretended that you were his. 

The Greatest

A sequel to I was all over her 

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female! Reader

Genre: angst, smut?!, gore, not proof read, spoilers for episode 5 & 6 for hotd s2, mdni!

WC: 9555

Summary: Aemond Targaryen and the dance told by the eyes of his wife, Lady Tyrell. 

Thank you @uhnanix for making this canon<3 

Also I am not comfortable with the use of [y/n], so the reader wil be addressed as Lady Tyrell! This fic could also be a stand alone fic, but if you want to read the first part you can go ahead and read I was all over her // main masterlist💌 Enjoy!

“Prince Aemond, wait!” 

Clutching the skirt of her sage green dress, the young lady Tyrell ran through the highgarden’s maze, made out of thorns and hedges making it hard for anyone to see anything behind the tall and thick edges of the maze wall. In an effort to keep up with the older Targaryen boy, she called out to him,

 “Prince Aemond! Where are you?” Taking a turn through the maze, in hopes to find her companion. 

“You’re too slow,” Aemond suddenly said behind her, tapping her feet with his wooden sword. 

“Ow!”

“Stop complaining.”

He took note not to bring a real sword in their activities in order not to cut her by accident.

 “Ow..it’s not my fault you run so fast,” Lady Tyrell complained again. 

“I thought you wanted to play,” Aemond said smugly. 

“Might I remind you that I’m still a lady,” she answered him. Aemond simply rolled his eyes and passed through her, “Come along now.”

They walked deeper into the maze as Aemond dictates her on her High Valyrian. “How do you say Goodbye?” Aemond asks. 

“Geros Ilas.”

“Thank you?”

“Kirimvose.”

“Now, where is the way out?” 

The both of them stopped in front of three different pathways. “Which one is it? Point it to me in High Valyrian,” Aemond said to her. Even as a child, he has always been hard on her. Maybe he just wanted her to excel in High Valyrian, she thought to herself. Being a resident at the highgarden makes her very familiar with the exits and dead ends in the maze, yet she tried to recall the High Valyrian word for north. 

“Ehm…jelmor…?” She pointed hesitantly to the pathway straight ahead. “Jelmor…north,” Aemond nodded with a satisfied smirk. That confirmation brought joy to her as she skipped ahead of him walking down the path towards the exit of the maze. Yet seeing his very sophisticated stance, the young lady Tyrell slowed down and tried to walk like him. Her hands swing awkwardly. A comfortable silence swept between the two children. 

“Why didn’t Aegon play with us?” 

“He had to study,” Aemond answered coldly. 

“Why?”

“Preparing to be king,” Aemond said again, swinging his wooden sword as it hit the hedges of the maze. Feeling her eyes on him, Aemond curiously glanced at her. “What?”

“Do you want to be King?” 

She saw how her question made him freeze. Stopping his tracks in the middle of the maze. As children, she was innocent and never thought about his ambitions or any resentment towards Aegon. But little did she know, her question triggered something in him. “More than anything,” he finally answered before walking ahead of her. “Why?” She curiously asked. Aemond threw a glance at her, “I will be powerful, and I will have a dragon.” Lady Tyrell tilted her head in confusion before jogging up to him. “But it’s boring! You will have duties. Lots and lots of duties!” She exclaimed, spreading her arms wide to symbolize the pile of duties he will have as a king. 

“So?” 

His response made her groan.

“So! You won’t have any time to play!”

“You don’t get to play when you’re king- you wouldn’t understand.”

Aemond grunts as he tries to walk faster than her. But Lady Tyrell didn’t give up and jogs up beside him once more. “Well, I’m glad I wouldn’t understand. I don’t want to be king anyways,” she said, crossing her arms as she walked beside him. “You’re a girl, you don’t get to be king. If you do, you’d probably be a queen,” Aemond said with an annoyed tone, yet she missed how his tone softened at the end. 

“Well I don’t care. I don’t want to be one. ‘Cause it means I’m gonna miss out on all of the adventures in the world!” Running ahead, she cartwheeled with a giggle. As she stood right back up, she saw his impressed expression. “I’ve never seen a girl do that. Where did you learn that?” Aemond asked, intrigued. “My brothers taught me,” she said, dusting off her skirt. Plucking a flower from the edge of the maze, she hummed a tune her mother would sing to her before she goes to sleep. “I don’t think I care about being King. I like who I am right now,” she said to him- or to herself as she plucked the petals of the flowers. 

He loves me, 

He loves me not, 

He loves me, 

He loves me not, 

He loves me. 

Aemond loves me.

She smiled to herself before Aemond caught up to her.

“You know what? I think you’re right. Being King would be boring. I think I’d rather play with you.”

-

I'm trying my best

To keep you satisfied

Let you get your rest

While I stayed up all night

“My dear?”

Her mother’s words snapped her out of her daydream. Turning her head, Lady Tyrell could only blink. She has been staring down to the highgarden’s maze from her window. It has been almost a whole moon since she left Kings Landing- since she left her husband. “I-I’m sorry mother, I haven’t been…paying attention,” she says in defeat. “Clearly,” her mother sighs and sits beside her on the edge of her bed. 

“You have been distracted since your return from Kings Landing. Your eyes are tired my dear, when was the last time you slept? Is something bothering you, my sweet?” Her mother asks, stroking her hair gently. “N-no, mother. I’m fine.” Her mother sensed how troubled she looked, but she decided not to ask any further to avoid anger out of her daughter. “Any letters from Helaena?” Her mother asks, changing the subject. 

“I don’t think Helaena is fond of letters, mother.” 

“How was she then? I haven’t seen her since your wedding-,”

“--Not good. She hasn’t been doing well since…you know what happened.”

Blood and Cheese. 

And she was there. 

She could’ve prevented it but-.

“I can’t believe they let those disgusting men in the castle. Even the highgardens have never had such murderous intruders,” her mother complained, rubbing her forehead. 

“They are at war-,”

“A war between kin- a war that will shed more blood in the future. And I won’t let your or our blood be spilled.” 

Cupping her cheeks, her mother shakes her head with a trembling sigh. “I shouldn’t have let them marry you. Now you’re trapped with duty because your husband decided to murder his nephew-,”

“--mother!--,”

“--You know well it was caused by your husband! And now you’ll be left childless–,”

“--Mother, the war started before he was even born, you know that more than anyone! And Aemond does not have time for me or to even bed me! He. Is. At War- We. Are at war.”

Yet he had the time to bed that whore. He had the time to sneak out to the brothels every night. While you had to endure the haunting silence of your own chambers in the keep. And while you had to endure the pain of the loss of his nephew once more. 

Lady Tyrell wasn’t stupid, she knew well the war was triggered because of his mistakes. The death of Jaehaerys was at his fault. How the pain of his family, and her own were triggered by him just because he couldn’t fight his own demons and pain. But even after everything, she couldn’t say all of those things out loud. Not to her mother, not to the world, not to even herself. Not because to preserve his honor, but her own. 

“War? Your father and I does not want to be involved in this bloodshed—,”

“—But you have. The day you wed me to him.” 

Her mother could say nothing as she could only stare and take in what her daughter had laid out to the ground. Nothing but facts. For they have said their allegiance the day their daughter married the Targaryen prince. Neutrality isn’t the answer. “And for now, I only wish for nothing but the safety of my husband. And my own, mother,” Lady Tyrell says sternly. For she realized how little she has done for herself, yet so much for Aemond. And what did it cost her?

Everything.

“You are angry.”

Lady Tyrell looks at her mother, puzzled.

“How could you say that?”

Her mother could only chuckle.

“I too also have a husband. I know what it feels to be powerless.” 

Tapping her chin up, her mother smiles. “Keep your head up high, my dear. You are a Tyrell. A rose with thorns. Don’t let anything, even a dragon snap your thorns away from you.”

As if it was yesterday, the moon was high as Lady Tyrell looked out from the window. A quiet night, she thought. “Up to bed now,” she heard Helaena say to the twins who were still playing with their toys, their laughter filling the room. The sight of her new nephew and niece warmed her heart. Lady Tyrell couldn’t stop herself from joining them, being their usual tickle monster. “Climb to your beds or the tickle monster will catch ya!” Jaehaerys and Jaehaera squealed with laughter as they scurried away to their own beds. Helaena smiled, “Thank you. They are quite difficult when it comes to bedtime.” Helaena said, caressing Jaehaerys’ hair gently as he tucks himself into his blankets.  

“What can I say, they’re still children. They would do anything to play all day,” Lady Tyrell said. “Will you play with us tomorrow?” Jaehaera asked. “Of course I will,” she replied to her sweet niece and kissed her head. “Sweet dreams you two.” Helaena could only stare at the twins for a moment before turning into her new sister in law. “What if…there is no tomorrow?” Her tone was uncertain and scared. “Helaena, there is a tomorrow. As long as the sun rises, we will be okay,” Lady Tyrell reminded the Queen that she is proud to call her sister now. Approaching her, Lady Tyrell took Helaena’s hands into hers, “What is on your mind?” 

Swallowing a lump in her throat, the queen speaks, “I am afraid. Of the rats. I do not wish to leave them alone for tonight.” Glancing to the twins who're already fast asleep, she sighs. “Would you like me to accompany you and the twins for tonight?” Lady Tyrell asked. Helaena quickly nodded, gripping her hands. “Yes, please.” She nodded back to Helaena and gently lets go of her hands. “Alrigh then, I shall inform Ser Criston about my stay so he could guard us for the night.” 

Turning towards the doors, she expected Ser Criston to be stationed in front of Helaena’s chambers. 

Yet when she opened it, no one was outside. 

Just an empty hallway. 

Where is ser Criston?

Lady Tyrell sighed, shaking her head as she was disappointed at ser Criston’s ignorance towards his duty as Kingsguard. “He is not here,” Lady Tyrell informed Helaena, shutting the chamber doors behind her. “I shall inform Aemond tomorrow about this.” Sitting down onto a cushion beside the fireplace, she saw how occupied Helaena was, staring at her children. Like as if she was scared about their wellbeing. 

“Helaena, I swear to you they will be alright for tonight. The rats won’t bite them or you,” Lady Tyrell reassured her. But Helaena shook her head. “It does not bite. It brings a knife with it.” 

“A knife? Helaena, what are you talking abou-.”

The door swung open. 

A man stood there with his knife. A familiar face that lurks through the red keep.

A ratcatcher with a knife. 

Danger. 

She stepped in front of the queen, shielding Helaena from that man. 

“You are not welcome in this place.” 

The man could only smirk, “You’re Aemond Targaryen’s wife, aren’t ya?” His knife pointed at her. “What do you want?” Lady Tyrell asked, not wanting to give any satisfaction. “Where is he?” The ratcatcher asked, yet it was a question neither she could answer. Where is Aemond at night? “You tell me,” she answered. The ratcatcher snarled, twisting his knife between his fingers. “You have no idea, don’t you?” Stepping closer towards them, Lady Tyrell stepped back still shielding Helaena who’s awfully terrified. 

“What do you want?!” She exclaimed. 

The ratcatcher scanned her from head to toe. 

“And I heard that the prince failed to give you a babe. You’re useless to us,”

Her eyes widened with terror. Following his gaze as the dreadful man spots Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. “No!” Lady Tyrell tried to scream but the ratcatcher shuts her up with his hand. “You see, we need a son. Do you have a son?” His question haunted her. She couldn’t answer for she knew that she does not have a son nor was she pregnant with one. But she could not let them touch the twins. No…not the twins…no. Her tears building up in her eyes for she knew what they wanted. 

A son for a son. 

“No son? Then you’re useless to us.”

With a swift motion, the ratcatcher smacked her head. 

Everything was black when she hit the ground. 

And you don't wanna know

How alone I've been

Let you come and go

Whatever state I'm in

Sitting in her childhood bedroom all alone was insufferable. She once yearned for her old bedroom where she thought that she could feel herself again, but to no avail she finds nothing but emptiness, for her childhood happiness was long gone. She left all of her love and duty in Kings Landing. In his hands. It angered her, at some point.

She was still angry at him.

For everything he had put her through. 

Hadn’t she loved him from the very beginning? She didn’t push, she didn’t whine, she didn’t complain. Yet he picked a whore to bed. Idiot. But what could she possibly have done? Yell at him? Scream at him? That’s a death sentence. She’s still a woman in court. Not a queen, she doesn’t even think he would even address her as a princess even if she is his wife. 

She looks down to her dressing table filled with her jewelries and small dragon sculptures that she failed to give to him for their wedding. It was a simple peace offering she wanted to give to him, Helaena, Aegon, and Daeron. To possibly remind them of their fondness as children. But she believed the gods had forbid her to do such thing and just let her…move on. They are not children anymore and things have changed. Growing up, duties, and the war. But what could possibly happen if she pushed harder to make him open the cold doors of his heart? Would things be the same or would things end up differently? Lady Tyrell could only stay silent as her handmaid prepares her to start the day. But what a cruel day it is for the only thing she could think of was Aemond.

Aemond Targaryen.

Stepping down the stairs from her room to the dining hall, she wonders what Aemond is doing by now. “Father, Mother,” she curtsied as she entered the dining hall. The table was served with delicious food she craved for many moons back in Kings Landing. Yet the presence of her brothers were nowhere to be found. She didn’t think much of it and sat on her usual chair. “Are you feeling better, dear?” Her mother asks. She could only nod, “Never better.“

Her father smiled, “It’s certainly better than Kings Landing. Blood is spilled everywhere in that place,” his tone slowly turning into disgust. “People hanged everywhere-,”

“—Lyonel,” her mother scolds, glancing down at the food.

 “Ah yes, my apologies. Let us feast!”

Her family was definitely far much warmer than Aemond’s. She wished to build a family like her own, yet with the war and Aemond’s….choices. It seemed her dreams would never come true. Her thoughts were quickly shooed away as she heard a loud and hurried knock from the door.

“My Lord,” a guard said. “My apologies for interrupting your feast, but there was a raven sent from Kings Landing. I believe it is urgent.” Handing the parchment to her father, Lady Tyrell curiously looked at the letter. Lord Tyrell scans through the letter, reading it briefly, making her and her mother wait on edge. 

“It seems that your husband requested your return.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Immediately.” 

Lady Tyrell snatched the letter away from her father, wanting to see if her father was playing tricks on her. But it seems that he has not. It was written with Aemond’s handwriting, and to summarize the letter itself, Aemond has concluded that he still wanted Lady Tyrell to be present at the court of Kings Landing for she at the end of the day was and will still be his wife. Aemond promised her father that she will be safe at all times. Aemond also requested- no, more like he commanded for her return immediately. It seemed he has sent a few of his men for extra caution for her long journey from Highgarden to Kings Landing. In the meantime, he is off to Rook’s Rest and if he does not find her present at the Red Keep when he is back, he shall burn Highgarden to the ground. 

Looking up with her shocked expression, Lord Lyonel Tyrell could only sigh. “It seems you must pack immediately, my dear.” Her mother nodded as she read the letter through again. “For the sake of Highgarden and yourself, my love.” Lady Tyrell could only stand there in silence. What does Aemond want from her? Does such threats shall be made to make her come back to him? After he betrayed her, she thought he wouldn’t mind her disappearing. Yet now…he commands her return immediately. 

“I..I do not understand,” Lady Tyrell muttered to her parents. 

“You are still his wife and it seems he still sees you as fit,” her mother answered. 

-

Made it all look painless

Man, am I the greatest

Her vision was blurry when she woke up, she could only hear a distorted conversation between the two invaders. Oh gods…she remembered. Intruders, Helaena, the twins…they wanted a son. Lady Tyrell forced herself to wake up and pushes her self from the ground with her elbow. She saw how the two intruders ran with a sack in their hands. Gods, where’s Helaena? The twins? She groaned in pain as her head was still spinning. She stood up with her legs wobbly, holding onto the cushion for support. 

What horror she saw that night. 

Blood splattered everywhere at one of the twin’s bed. 

She didn’t even dare to look what’s left. 

She hazily sprinted away, calling out for help. 

Gods where is Helaena? Where are the twins?!

Please…please…

She scurried down to the dark hallways with a sob calling out for anyone. 

And there she bumped into them.

Ser Criston and the dowager queen Alicent alongside with a few of the other fellow guards. “My dear!” Alicent shrieked, pulling her into her motherly arms. “I..Are you alright?” She could only shake her head, “Where is Helaena? Where are the twins?! I-I saw blood!” Alicent looks at her with a horrified expression. “Helaena is at my chambers, Jaehaera is with her- p-please accompany her.” Without no further explanation, she sprinted towards the dowager queen’s chambers, finding Helaena gently soothing her daughter at the corner. 

“Helaena!” She sobs out, running to them and hugging them tight. 

“T-the boy,” Helaena chokes on sobs. 

“J-Jae-Jaehaerys? Wh-where i-is h-he?”

“T-the boy is dead.”

Her heart sank. 

“W-what?”

“I don’t feel safe here…,” Helaena lets out a sob, craddling Jaehaera who knew nothing of the incident. Lady Tyrell nodded, wiping her tears away knowing that Helaena needed every support she could get. “O-okay..we shall stay in my chambers, alright?” Lady Tyrell says, helping Helaena up as she carried Jaehaera in her arms. 

The castle was filled with grief as Helaena sobbed with her in her chambers. She could only say nothing as she held her sweet sister in law in her arms. Gently reassuring her that everything will be alright. Even though they both knew that it wouldn’t. Then came her husband. Opening her chamber doors, his healthy eye spots them. Where was he? Wasn’t he in the castle? Why couldn’t they find him? Where was he when his nephew was murdered? But…if he were to catch him, she might’ve end up being a widow.

They wanted him. 

But where was he?

-

And you don't wanna know (know)

What I would've done (done), hm

Anything at all

Worse than anyone

The night was dark, the keep was cold and gloomy. She hates it here, but she finds herself following her husband’s orders to meet him in the throne room. He was pointed as prince regent, for King Aegon had almost perished at Rook’s Rest. Burnt by dragon fire. She thought that she would find Aemond grieving, yet she finds him standing in front of the iron throne with posture straight, filled with pride. His chin high up as he stares at the throne made of swords. He heard some of his men talking about the incident at Rook’s Rest for some saw Vhagar was the one who let out its fire towards the king and Sunfyre. Could Aemond’s ambition and anger towards Aegon blinded his morality? She knew how much he wanted to be king and she never completely believed that her husband would abandon all of his hopes and dreams as King. 

“Aemond,” she addressed him with no hint of affection yet. 

“Wife,” he answered, turning around to face her. “How was your journey from Highgarden?” He asked, approaching her and gently lifted and kissed the back of her hand. “It was a smooth journey, I must thank you for the men you’ve sent for my safety.” Keeping this polite and respectful. After knowing what had happened in the brothel, it was hard for her to trust Aemond or taking him literally. Whatever tricks he has on his sleeve, she must always be prepared. 

“Hm,” he hums, before taking her to step closer in front of the throne. 

“The Iron Throne,” he spoke as the thunder roared through the rain. As light shone upon the empty throne, how he longed to sit on that throne and have all the power his brother failed to hold. His slender hands traced over the edge of the throne as he hums in delight. “Balerion’s fire melted these swords. Twisted, beaten, and broken blades of the conqueror’s enemies.” Lady Tyrell has heard of the conqueror’s story hundreds of times and it’s mostly told by Aemond himself when they were children. “They knew what power meant and they’ve used it well…and I believe I’m destined for it.” 

“And Aegon?” She asked, with no hesitation. For she wanted to know what lies in Aemond’s mind about Aegon’s tragic demise. The king might not live, yet grief isn’t present in Aemond’s eye like when he heard of Jaehaerys’ death. His brother was burnt nearly to death, yet Aemond talks about power. “What about him?” Aemond asked back, stoically. She couldn’t read his face when he turned towards her. Nothing but a blank expression which sends shivers down her spine. “Is he worthy of the power you talk about?” When that question leaves her mouth, Aemond could scoff, “Him? Never.” Stepping down from the steps of the throne, he approaches her. “He couldn’t even have power over his own tongue,” Aemond said, cupping her cheek with one of his hands. 

“He is an idiot.” 

An idiot. 

And there she knew, he hated his brother. He hated the way his brother was given the throne with ease. How his brother ruined everything for him, and now Aemond’s petty enough to take everything from his brother as well. 

“What happened at Rook’s Rest?--”

“–I was never sorry. He was an idiot to challenge Meleys,” he said with a devious smile. 

Lady Tyrell could only gaze at his healthy eye, and the only thing she could read from her husband was that he was satisfied. Whatever satisfaction was filled, it was something that she herself would not want to question. “And everything falls into place. The throne will be mine.”

Taking her hands, he smiled. 

“And you’ll stand beside me.”

And everything falls into place, like what he said. Lady Tyrell realized how things could end up if Aemond were in power. She would be a fool to not satisfy him, but had she tried? She thought that everything was crumbling down, but here she is in the throne room with her husband who talks about power, almost burning the king alive, who wishes to possess the throne…with her. She doubted him for a second when she remembered his activities in the brothel, but then she thought again. It’s better to be in power and to be queen even if your husband commits infidelity. 

But would he? He said that he wants HER to stand beside him. If she stays loyal and never question him, his love would grow for her. 

Everyone in the small council has never satisfied him, no one has. 

Even claiming Vhagar wasn’t enough for him. Nothing is. But she could satisfy him. She could gain his loyalty and trust. Not only that, even as prince regent Aemond could give so much more for her house if she asks carefully. All of her thoughts of being a young girl refusing to be involved in such politics simply vanished when she looked over the iron throne. It’s pulling her in, to leave her childish dreams. To instead devote herself for her husband’s victory. 

If his plan works, he’ll stay. 

With her. 

When he realizes that she’s the only one who’ll devote her life for him, 

He’ll love her. 

He will have power, and she and her house will.

Both of them gets what they want. 

"You are a Tyrell. A rose with thorns. Don’t let anything, even a dragon snap your thorns away from you."

She glanced back to her husband who seemed to figure her out. 

A silent agreement has been made between them. 

“Then we must pray to the Gods to keep your brother to recover soon,” she said. Aemond smirks, understanding her words. “We shall,” he grins. Lady Tyrell curtsied before her husband, “I must return to my chambers now, dear Husband.” Aemond nodded, a sign of respect from him. “Sleep well, dear Wife.” 

Lady Tyrell nodded and turned to exit the throne room as her thoughts swirled around her head. Now as the wife of the prince regent, she could only support her husband on whatever step he would take. Aemond is not stupid, more like one of the most intelligent men in Westeros. Brash yet clever. SHe must know how to help him if she wants to help herself. As Lady Tyrell stepped through the gloomy halls of the keep, she found Helaena walking towards the opposite direction. “Your grace,” Lady Tyrell greeted her, curtsying before the current queen. Helaena usually greets her with a smile, yet she could only see uncertainty from the queen’s eyes. 

“Mending bonds does not have to be done with pride,” the queen said hauntingly

“Pardon?”

“Then did he tell you if it was worth it?”

Worth it?

Aegon’s demise?

Lady Tyrell could only say nothing and stare at Helaena. 

“Worth…what?”

Helaena could only pursue her lips and walk away towards the throne room, leaving Lady Tyrell alone in the cold dark hallways of the red keep. 

 -

It was quite surprising to her when Aemond pointed her to be a cupbearer for the small council for the next few following days. She remembers the faces of his council when she steps into the room, she could even feel the dowager queen’s eyes on her as she curtsied. 

“He dares to summon me?!--” Crumpling up the letter with a roar, Aemond stomps into the small council table. “--with haste!” Throwing the piece of parchment onto the table like it was nothing. Lady Tyrell could only observe, keeping her eyes on everyone’s reaction on Aemond’s outburst. “Are the Lannisters so diminished that they cannot march from the Tooth to Harrenhal without an escort?” His question sent everyone into their own silence as none dared to meet his eye.

Her husband has so much power over everyone. 

She smirks to herself.  

“There is a large dragon in the Riverlands, Your Grace. My brother’s army is strong, but it does seem-”

“–I am the prince regent,” Aemond sternly exclaims. “Not a dog to be called to heel. Tell your brother that if he does not deliver his host to Harrenhal ‘with haste’, Daemon’s dragon will become the least of his worries.”

“Your irritations are justified, Aemond but it does seem-”

“–I have a task for you as well, Ser Tyland.” 

Ignoring his mother’s opinion. 

Even his own mother has no power over him. 

Aemond circled over the table, meeting her gaze before resting her arms onto Tyland Lannister’s chair. “We will make an alliance with the Triarchy. I’ve had enough of this cursed blockade,” Aemond suggests. “My prince, you cannot mean to treat with the Free Cities. The captains of their ships are dangerous mercenaries…little more than pirates–”

“–They are a stone’s throw away across the narrow sea. Lannister, Hightower, even Tyrell ships will take months to arrive. It took my wife weeks to arrive at Kings Landing. The Triarchy will delight in the chance to terrorize the Sea Snake again. Let them weaken his blockade while our true allies make their long journey east.”

“The Triarchy may play at accepting terms but they are not to be trusted, your father knew this.”

Aemond could only roll his eye and meet her eyes once again. Lady Tyrell could only give him a nod, asking him to calm down as he walked back to his seat. Even as dowager queen, Alicent was just a pawn to the council, Lady Tyrell thought to herself. May the gods forbid her to be widowed and be sat around this council. Aemond circles the table once again as Ser Criston speaks. Aemond kept his eyes on her as he spoke, “It’s time you set out for Harrenhal, I think.” Lady Tyrell kept her eyes on her husband trying to figure out what he meant by sending Criston Cole away to war once more. “Your Grace, if Daemon prevails in the Riverlands, I no longer have the numbers to challenge him. We lost much at Rook’s Rest as you well know.”

Sitting on the table next to Criston, Aemond speaks as he pleases, “The longer we wait, the more chance he will prevail. Lannister will march from the west, and Tyrell shall follow along. Take what strength we have and force Daemon and his Riverlords to fight on two or three fronts.”

“His Grace speaks wisely.” 

Bootlicker. 

Lady Tyrell catches Aemond’s eye and gave him a look. 

Do not feed off Lord Larys’ praises. 

She kept her eyes stern at him as he pays no attention to Criston’s words

“There is no time. It’s a fortnight’s march to Harrenhal. We must strike before his army is raised.”

“And you yourself?”

“I will fly out to meet you when the time is ripe. My uncle is a challenge I welcome, if he dares face me.”

No one spoke to disagree with him. His ambition and plans weren’t to be questioned. It’s no use to question Aemond afterall. “I see we’re all agreed,” Aemond says with satisfaction standing back into his place, a signal to dismiss from today’s council meeting. Criston Cole was the first to stand, “Your Grace.” While Lady Tyrell saw how his mother’s eyes stared into Aemond’s figure. As everyone started to leave, Lady Tyrell how the dowager queen approached Ser Criston. Odd, but…not odd enough for anyone who was not paying attention. 

“Mother,” Aemond called. “A word.”

It was her cue to leave. 

Lady Tyrell placed the jug down gently before curtsying before her husband.

She sighs as she walks away from the corridor. She needed some fresh air. Walking towards the balcony near her apartment, she has a full view of Kings Landing. Surely it wasn’t as beautiful as Highgarden, but it was still a city filled with living people. 

She looked down, seeing a commotion. How some shoved each other, trying to get their hands on food…almost as if they were going to start a riot. There she knew that no one had paid the slightest attention to the people. The people who reside and makes a kingdom, a kingdom. Lady Tyrell took note how the gold cloaks stopped the people from making any further damage. Some use violence as their answer. 

Sure there was a war between kin, yet a war within the kingdom is happening as we speak. 

Bad omen. 

I shouldn't have to say it

You could've been the greatest

Another day, another small council meeting. 

Lady Tyrell walks into the small council room with Aemond as the table was almost empty. Only Lord Larys and Lord Jasper Wylde present. “The smallfolk have become restless,” Lady Tyrell blurts out as she pours wine into his cup. She could see Aemond fiddling his stone ball in his hand. “So?” He asked, still gazing at the stone. Before she could speak, Lord Larys interjects her, “There is not food enough in this city.” Lady Tyrell tilted her head as she sharply looked at Lord Larys. “Those with means have bought more than their share,” Lord Larys continued. “All the more reason Ser Tyland must break the blockade,” Aemond said. “In the meantime, the people are hungry, and their anger is rising,” Lady Tyrell points out, trying to make Aemond listen. “War with swords are evident, but a war within is also just as important,” Lady Tyrell tries to remind him. 

“Why is this anger directed at us?” He asks, curiously. “It is Rhaenyra the Pretender who ordered the Gullet closed and left them all to starve.” Of course he is not listening, why would she even think it will be different from her? Even his mother could not make him listen. “Yet we are the ones who are present at Kings Landing. They hope for us to nurture and to prevent them from starving,” Lady Tyrell points out once again. 

“That is the burden of authority. But you should not go it alone.” 

Aemond stopped fiddling with his stone ball and shifted his gaze towards Lord Larys. 

“It does occur to me that Your Grace has yet to name a Hand.”

Pathetic. 

Lady Tyrell could only roll her eyes and move to fill Lord Wylde’s cup. She saw how Larys had Aemond’s full attention after his brave suggestion. “Ser Criston of course, served your brother but you need one who may advance your cause, with shrewdness and subtlety.”

Even Lord Wylde was in disbelief. 

“Do you take me for a fool?” 

Lady Tyrell smirks to herself as her husband puts Lord Larys into place. Yet Lord Larys did not want to stand down and shook his head, “On the contrary, my prince–,” 

“I’ve little patience for the self-important, Lord Larys-,”

Lady Tyrell and Lord Wylde smiled and turned their heads in unison to Lord Larys’ direction. 

“-and even less for flatterers and lickspittles. But you are, as it happens, correct. Every king needs a hand.”

Lady Tyrell’s brows furrowed, hoping and praying for Aemond not to make a foolish decision to make Lord Larys as hand. She wishes that he could point her as hand but it is impossible. For she is a woman and she has no power over any man. She has to atleast think of a choice who’s worthy and trusted as Hand. Who’s not stupid enough or greedy enough to bring the realm down. 

“Wife,” Aemond called, interrupting her train of thought. “Who do you think is suited to be hand?” Aemond asked, although she knew he was not genuinely asking. It’s more like him trying to test her, like he always does as children. Some things never change. She looked at him trying to put a neutral expression. “I believe the realm was good and stable when your dear grandsire, Ser Otto was hand. He served well when your father was king and his loyalty was undoubted.”

Aemond looked at her as if he’s trying to make her dig more out of her opinion, but she stood by her words and smiled at him. “Hm,” Aemond hummed in agreement. But it was subtle, undetected to some. He looked back to Lord Larys, “I’ll make it your responsibility.” 

Lord Larys took a deep breath, a satisfied demeanour as he brushed his clothes. 

“My prince, it is an honor for myself–”

“–No, not to serve as Hand, you toad. To fetch him.”

It took all of her power to hold back her laugh. Even so, she couldn’t hold her smile. She looked down and saw Lord Wylde smiling with satisfaction as well. “Send word to Otto Hightower. My grandsire may be overcautious but his devotion to his family has never been in doubt. You will see it done.” 

“Your Grace,” Lord Larys said in defeat.

The grand maester then suddenly enters the room, late. 

“You’re late,” Aemond says. 

“I am happy to report that His Grace, the King has regained consciousness this morning.”

This news made her eyes wide, quickly drifting her eyes towards Aemond. 

He will not like this news. 

And he doesn’t. Not even the slightest. 

He looked back at her as he realized that his plan isn’t going as well as they thought it would be. Aemond stared at her as he tried to think, his mind racing with every single possibility. A silent conversation was exchanged between them through their eyes. Lady Tyrell blinks, knowing that there will be some difficulties for his plans, yet she shifts her gaze towards the grand maester as he speaks about Aegon’s strength, thanking the gods. For she knew Aemond wasn’t thanking the gods. He was cursing them in his mind.

“What happy news,” Aemond said with his little smile. 

What dreadful news. 

Once council meeting was over Lady Tyrell walked side by side with Aemond. She thought he was going to walk back to his chambers yet he took another turn, down towards Aegon’s chambers. 

“‘He is stronger than we thought.’ ‘He may have lived, thank the gods’,” Aemond mutters to himself. “Yet he is in pain, Aemond. Aegon is still laying in his bed as we speak, unable to move, eve unable to talk–,”

“–Yet Alive. Not Dying,” Aemond said to her as he walked in haste. 

“And what are to do in Aegon’s chambers?” She asked, stopping in front of Aegon’s apartment door. “Just paying him a visit. Let’s see how strong he really is.” Pushing the doors open, it was the first time Lady Tyrell had seen Aegon after Rook’s rest. He was…burnt. No mortal man would survive such a thing yet there he is. Moaning in pain. Alive and breathing. “I’ll see my brother. Alone,” Aemond orderdered. She stood by the doorway, hesitant to step inside as she saw the guards and maesters stepping out of the room. Maybe she wasn’t wanted to be in the room aswe-.

 “Come, don’t be shy. We must greet our king, shouldn’t we?” Aemond sarcastically said to her, reaching his hand out for her. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she hesitantly took his hand even if she was too shocked and too terrified to even speak. “Do not be afraid, it is just the king,” Aemond sarcastically reassures her as he pulls her closer beside Aegon’s bed.

When she saw Aegon opening his eyes, she could see confusion in his eyes when he spots her. But when his eyes drifted up, seeing her husband towering over him, to her surprise…Aegon tried to speak, yet to no avail he could only groan out of pain through his vocal chords and Aegon tried to move away from his brother. He was scared of Aemond. Gods, Aemond did tried to burn him. That fact sent shivers down her spine. Knowing how far her husband would go for his ambitions. Even his brother barely survived. 

“What do you remember?”

“N-nothing.”

Aemond coldly stared down at his brother before purposely leaning down, holding his brother’s hand practically squishing down onto his brother’s wounds. Hurting him. Aegon moaned and cried in pain, for Aemond is purposely hurting him. Lady Tyrell let out a shaky breath, “Ae-aemond–.”

“You challenged Meleys. It was foolish.”

“I remember nothing.”

Aegon could barely speak a whole sentence. 

She saw how Aemond leaned lower and kissed Aegon’s head, handing him a stone ball from the council. A sign from Aemond of somehow, Aegon is still alive. Meaning that he is still present at court. Aegon is still king, for now. 

“My Prince? My Lady?”

The grand maester suddenly enters the room once more. 

“You’re in the most capable hands, Your Grace,” Aemond bluntly said, covering his tracks. Lady Tyrell follows him as he starts to walk out of Aegon’s chambers. “It seems my brother has a long recovery ahead of him, grand maester. See that he is made to rest comfortably.” 

-

And man, am I the greatest 

My congratulations 

All my love and patience

All my admiration

All the times I've waited 

For you to want me naked 

I made it all look painless

Man, am I the greatest

God, I hate it

All my love and patience

Unappreciated

You said your heart was jaded

You couldn't even break it

I shouldn't have to say it

You could've been the greatest

Walking in haste towards her husband’s chambers, Lady Tyrell could only think of how foolish HE was for not listening to her regarding the smallfolk situation. Now his mother and sister were almost murdered by angry mobs yet he says nothing of it?! When she saw Helaena rushing back to the castle, her hair out of place and panting as if she were just running, she could sense that something went very wrong. 

“Helaena- Your Grace, What happened?” Lady Tyrell asked in panic, embracing her childhood friend and her queen in which Helaena does not reject. “T-they were angry,” Helaena said, out of breath.

“Who?”

“Everyone.”

The dowager queen Alicent walks not far behind. Her face smeared with the grease and stink of raw fish, and her arm. Smeared with blood. “My Queen, what has happened?” Lady Tyrell asked once again. “Angry mob. It seemed their issues with their food were unfinished and Rhaenyra’s banners were held up high, they’ve manipulated the people and…” A pregnant pause, the dowager queen looked down at her arm once again. Lady Tyrell looked down as well. She wondered if there was a significant incident for the dowager queen. Has the mob scarred her that much? “Where is Aemond?” Alicent asked. “In his chambers, my Queen.” Alicent nodded and lifted her skirt to walk. “He needs to know what has happened. And my dear, I believe his mind is clouded with his own ambition. Make him listen, for it is only you that he could trust.”

The dowager queen’s words made her end up where she is now. Knocking on her husband’s chamber doors. “Enter,” she heard him say from inside. She pushed the heavy doors, “The smallfolk are turning against us.” Aemond was sitting in front of the fireplace, reading his book in peace. “Your mother and sister were almost killed by angry mobs, Aemond,” Lady Tyrell reminded him, standing beside where he sat. “And so I’ve heard.”

“How are you this calm, Aemond? Further destruction can be made if we do not solve this matter!”

“Mind your tone, wife,” he stoically warned, closing his book.

“My tone? I told you of this matter yet you dismissed me.”

Aemond stood up and put his book back onto his shelf.

“Aemond, are you listening to me?”

“Shall I remind you of your position, wife?” 

Now he’s threatening her. Ofcourse, she’s nothing but a lady in court. Not a man in power. 

“I am a grown woman, not a child, Aemond. I know of my position. But it does not mean I am an idiot,” she reminded him back. Aemond stares at her coldly. “What? You want to hang me now? You can hang me as you like, but I know that you are aware that I’m right.” 

“You have always been a stubborn little thing aren’t you?”

“That adds to my charm. Aemond, you need the people as much as you dragons to win this war. A kingdom is not a kingdom without it’s people. You said that it was Rhaenyra who ordered the Gullet closed and left the people to starve- yet who are they chanting for when a handful of food was given to them for free?”

Feeling his judgement falling upon her, Lady Tyrell does not hesitate to continue, “The people do not care who was the one that started the hunger. Yet they will remember who were the ones who could save them from their misery. If Rhaenyra was the one who left them to starve, then be their saviour! Not turning your back against them. What is to be king if the people doesn’t acknowledge you as one? Then you’re simply…a fraud.”

Aemond’s eyes turned cold and shoved her down to the bed. “You think you’re better than me, Tyrell? Just because I summoned you back here does not mean you can do as you please,” he hissed. If she were in this position as the old version of herself, she would cower in fear. But she knows how he is. His temper, she will let it all happen. To her, now it’s just a lover’s quarrel. “Aye? Then what would you do? Kill me? Destroying one of your greatest assets for the war? What would they say? You fucked a whore and killed your own wife.” Aemond presses her down deeper to the mattress. 

“Watch your tongue.”

“Did she satisfy you?” Lady Tyrell asked. 

She needed to know. 

“Was that the reason why you refused to bed me all these months?” 

Aemond grunts again, but his body refuses to push her any further. Refusing to hurt her. For he has hurt her enough. “Do not assume such things,” Aemond said, his voice slightly cracking. “How can I not?” She said back, her voice not faltering. “Am I that undesirable?—“

“—No—,”

“—Have you doubted my loyalty?—“

“—No!—“

“—Then what am I to you, Aemond?”

“You are my wife.”

His healthy eye staring right into her soul.

“I do not wish to bed you like how I bed that whore.” His fingers grazed over her arm. “Undesirable? I’ve desired you more than anything. When you stepped out of your carriage stepping foot in Kings Landing for the very first time, I never wanted anyone more than anything. I desired you when I saw you in the sept at our union, and when I refused the bedding ceremony that night I didn’t want anyone to see your body. It should only be touched and seen by me. Only me.” 

Her gaze softened hearing those words coming out from his mouth. Her mind tried to tell her that it was a trick, but oh she could only melt in his arms. Finding his pupil dilating, she saw how he only has genuine affection towards her and a sense of guilt that he wishes to take away from her. He needed her as much as she needed him. It took her long enough to do it, but she knew it had to be done. She pulls him closer and lets her lips gently meet his. It took Aemond with surprise so she let it stay still, waiting for him to take the lead. 

She felt his lips move, slowly accepting her mouth on his. Their lips meet with a delicate urgency, brushing softly at first, testing the waters of desire. As intensity builds, kisses deepen, becoming more fervent, tongues intertwining in a dance of exploration and connection.

Hands explore with a gentle insistence, fingers threading through hair, tracing the line of jaw, and caressing the curve of back and neck. The warmth of skin against skin sends shivers of pleasure through their bodies, heightening every sensation.

Breaths mingle in a rhythm that mirrors their entwined hearts, each inhale drawing them closer, each exhale a whispered affirmation of mutual longing. Time seems to slow, the outside world fading away as they become lost in the intoxicating blend of touch, taste, and scent. He pulls away, “I imagined them as you. It does not justify my infidelity but I could not stop myself. I wished to perform such act with you but for the gods sake…I could not bare to hurt you.” Desperately nuzzling his nose to his cheek as her arms link around his neck. 

“You would not hurt me,” his wife gently whispers. 

She gently held him and flipped him over. 

“But I have..thousands of times,” he mutters while his calloused hands traced over her waist down to her hips. Lady Tyrell looked down to him as his eye was filled with lust and desire. Untangling her dress, she eventually lets it drop down to her waist, unveiling herself to him. “Gevie,” Aemond mutters, kneading her breast feeling how his hand perfectly cups hers. She was just beautiful as he imagined her to be. 

“And here I thought you had abandoned me.” Her hands trailed over his breeches, finding access to his sex. Aemond gasped, feeling her gentle smooth hands wrapping around his cock. It felt better than any touch of those whores. None have hands as smooth and gentle as hers. “I would never,” he grunted desperately for her touch. Lady Tyrell looked down, removing her undergarments briefly, lining her sex to his. 

“My King,” she sighs in pleasure sinking into his cock. 

She made Aemond’s healthy eye roll back feeling her squeezing him like hell. “Gods you’re tight,” he grunted once more, thrusting up needing friction. She gasped, taking all of him. “Say it again,” he ordered, letting her adjust to him. “M-my King.” Her delicate hands resting on his clothed chest, she steadied herself as she grinds on him. The smell of sex was evident in the room. Aemond looked up seeing his then-innocent wife riding him like a dragon he is. Moaning, panting, praising him. 

“A dragon..is useless without its rider,” she pants. Aemond gripped her hips as he helped her to reach their pleasures. “Then ride me, ābrazȳrys. Ride your dragon king.” And she obeyed, riding him as tears of pleasure rolled down her cheeks. “Ae-aemond- fuck.” The prince smirked hearing his wife curse, “My wife talks like a pirate now,” he teased, taking her hand into his lips, kissing it gently. 

“I-I..I..I’m close.”

Urgently thrusting up into her, Aemond helps her chase her pleasure. Hearing her sweet sounds make him find his own pleasure as well. The only woman who could make him come this fast. His blurry vision saw how her body was full of sweat and how the dim light of the fireplace enhanced her features. “Gevie,” he repeated. Exhausted, she slowly dropped her body to him. Letting his arms wrapped around her smaller body. Her husband inhaled her scent as he buries his face deep into her hair. 

“Aemond?” She called out. 

“Hm?”

Slowly pulling away, she looked into his healthy eye before she stared at his eyepatch. 

“May I?” Asking for permission. 

She thought that he might refuse, yet he was the one who unveils himself to her.

He took off his eyepatch before her. 

Letting her see his scar. 

A thick tension filled the air as Aemond was starting to regret this decision of showing his wife his vulnerability. Lady Tyrell quickly spots his insecurity and wants nothing but him to open up to her. So she kissed his scar, just beneath his sapphire eye. Nuzzling her nose to his cheek, she whispered, “Gevie.” She could hear a quiet sigh coming out from her husband and how his arms wrapped around her just a tad tighter than before. Aemond needed her more than ever, and Alicent was right. She was the only one he could trust. 

“The smallfolk, Aemond.”

“What about them?”

“It is difficult to change their mind for now,” she said as she slightly pulls back, looking into his gaze, “But we can always make a change by their ways.” 

Aemond raised his eyebrow curiously, “What ways?”

“Rumours. Gossip,” she said.

At first he was not convinced.

“I am a lady at court, I know how rumours work. They are not a line that you can easily break. Rumours spiral and it shall grow bigger and bigger. Unless someone stops them with another,” she told him carefully. “Rhaenyra might have won this chapter, but we are the ones closest to the people. We must turn the rumours back around.” Aemond lets out a hum in agreement. “It seems I do need you. For I am a dragon and I fly and burn everything to the ground at battlegrounds. Yet you are a rose. Beautiful and charming, drawing people to your attention while your thorns sharp and ready to fight the war with your ways,” he praised her, caressing her hair. 

“We can still win the hearts of the people. If we do this right,” she said.

“What of rumours about me? About me not planting a seed on your womb?” Aemond asked, changing the subject as he placed his other hand to her stomach. “I regret for not putting a babe in you sooner. Maybe our act was enough to let my seed grow in you, wife.” 

Lady Tyrell chuckled at his words. Although she is quite excited to have a babe with him. Aemond Targaryen’s heir. She dressed up as Aemond pulled his breeches back up as well. “But I am aware that this was planned by the gods. If I did put a babe in you earlier, maybe the realm would be mourning for you. Not for Jaehaerys,” she heard him say as he sat up. “I am an honest man, my dear. And I am honest of how I could not live without you breathing in the same air as me.” His arms sneaked around her waist, pressing his chest onto her back. 

“My rose, my wife.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her neck. 

Before letting go, putting his eyepatch and lighting a candle. 

“Aemond, what are you doing?” She asked curiously as her fingers still grazed upon the spot where he kissed her. “The smallfolk won’t side with us overnight. We have to act early, don’t we?” He said with a devilish smile, opening his chamber doors revealing the dark empty hallway of the keep. She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Aemond, the moon is high.” Aemond nodded, “Which means it’s the best time to act.”

Aemond grabbed his cloak and walked out from the room.

“Come along now, wife.”

Oh, Aemond.

Lady Tyrell lifted her skirt and catches onto her husband. 

“Aemond, wait!”

Even as adults, Aemond couldn’t hold his smile whenever his wife caught up onto him. 

Walking in haste, side by side. Like how it has always been, and forever. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! So sorry for the delay, cuz I was sick and I saw episode 6 and I HAD to include those scenes to make this fic work. Honestly, I didn’t think that I would make Lady Tyrell have this character development but with the current situation of hotd, I just wanted an ambitious Tyrell lady in the story so I just had to🧸. Plus I got carried away writing this fic but I had so much fun! >,< I’m actually quite interested to make headcannons between Aemond and Lady Tyrell so if you guys are curious about their story do not hesitate to ask or like hmu abt it in my inbox (it’s open!). But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this (long) sequel and I am excited to write more in the future! I am open to requests and even prompts!𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Love, Aliceִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

P.S, Likes, reblogs, and comments are kindly appreciatedᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

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The Silver Dragon Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light.

With her mother dead, and father flown across the Narrow Sea with a new wife, the girl is taken in by her Aunt, the Queen Alicent Hightower, to be raised among the little family she has left. There, she finds her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. The two spend long nights in the palace library together, studying the histories of both Old Valyria and the First Men, seeking to understand who they are and where they fit in the world.

But finding that place proves more difficult than in the fairy tales they read. The seeds of disaster were laid long before they were born, and as tensions in the family rise, it seems as though their places may begin to diverge.

Will they let themselves be pulled apart as the dragons dance? 

Warnings: Mentions of rape

Chapter 1: The Bronze Bitch's Daughter

Prince Daemon Targaryen has grown tired of his Lady wife, the “Bronze Bitch” Rhea Royce. But he is not so easily rid of her. She survives not only his brutal attack, but his cruel violation of her. Though she remains broken and weak, she endures just long enough to deliver a child: a girl of silver hair and steely eyes.

Chapter 2: The Bench

On Arianwyn’s thirteenth nameday, a grand reception is held in her honor. Though most guests are not in attendance for the Lady of Runestone, but rather the Princess Rhaenyra, who is mere weeks away from giving birth. But Arianwyn does not care, for Aemond is there. And he has a present for her.

Chapter 3: The Book

Though Arianwyn wants nothing more than to devour the book Aemond gifted her, she finds herself tear her mind from Aegon’s taunting words. But as she recalls a difficult conversation with her cousin and lady’s maid from the night before, she decides that perhaps she does not want to be married – ever.

Chapter 4: Rune of Endurance

Over the next few months, the young scholars begin to make their own translations of the Runes of the First Men. However, the lives of a Prince and a Lady are not all leisure. After a harrowing encounter in the Dragonpit, Aemond needs Arianwyn to comfort him.

Chapter 5: The Funeral

As the Targaryen and Velaryon households gather on Driftmark to mourn the late Lady Laena, Arianwyn is anxious about meeting not only her half-sisters, but her father for the very first time.

Chapter 6: Cold Fire

Having been worse than ignored by Daemon at the funeral, Arianwyn finally comes face to face with her father.

Chapter 7: The Beach

After overhearing a conversation between Prince Daemon and Corlys Velaryon at dinner, Aemond recruits Arianwyn to help him achieve a lifelong dream.

Chapter 8: The Tunnel

On their way back from the beach, Aemond and Arianwyn are confronted by their four furious cousins.

Chapter 9: The Decisions of Fathers

Aemond is permanently maimed, Arianwyn wounded. As their family quarrels over how to deal with the aftermath of the fight, all they can do is cling to each other.

Chapter 10: Prayer

Faced with the possibility of their separation, Aemond joins Arianwyn in prayer.

Chapter 11: Dearest Friend

As Arianwyn adapts to her new surroundings, and Aemond heals from his wound, the pair take comfort in the letters they exchange.

Chapter 12: The Girl in the Tower

With the knowledge that she will not soon be released from her father’s control, Arianwyn finds what comforts she can on Dragonstone, and receives a gift from Aemond.

Chapter 13: The Sapphire

Aemond struggles to adjust to Arianwyn’s absence. But on his fifteenth nameday, Ser Gerold Royce arrives with a bronze-wrapped present.

Chapter 14: The Garden

For the first time in the six years she’s been on Dragonstone, Princess Rhaenyra asks for Arianwyn to join her for a walk in the gardens.

Chapter 15: A Holy Sight

At long last, Arianwyn returns to King’s Landing.

Chapter 16: The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys

After being reunited after so long, Aemond has one request of Arianwyn: to read him a story.

Chapter 17: Families

Arianwyn is joyfully greeted by Queen Alicent, Princess Helaena, and her young children. But the happy reunion is soon ended as she is called to attend dinner with her Daemon, Rhaenyra, and their children.

Chapter 18: The Petition

When Vaemond Velaryon petitions the Crown to grant him succession of Driftmark, Arianwyn is faced with her worst fears.

Chapter 19: Final Tribute

Arianwyn delays her escape to attend the King’s family dinner to say goodbye to Aemond. But emotions run high, and a final toast may jeopardize her plans.

Chapter 20: The Library

Daemon confronts his daughter.

Chapter 21: Beneath the Weirwood Tree

Arianwyn meets Aemond in the Godswood.

Chapter 22: The Bedding

To prevent Daemon from contesting their marriage, Aemond and Arianwyn proceed with the Bedding Ceremony.

Chapter 23: The Shears

The following morning, Aemond and Arianwyn tell the Queen of what happened. But they soon realize an important figure is missing.

Chapter 24: The Trial of Brynna Taler

Aemond, Arianwyn, and Queen Alicent race to find Brynna. Larys Strong informs them that she has been taken to the Throne Room by none other than Daemon, who claims that it was Brynna herself that attacked him the night before. Not only that, but he also accuses Aemond of forcing Arianwyn to marry him, and of raping her so that the marriage could not be dissolved.

Chapter 25: The Breakfast

With Brynna safe and Daemon on his way back to Dragonstone with the rest of the Blacks, Aemond and Arianwyn enjoy some time alone. However, they are quickly interrupted by the Queen, her children, and her grandchildren joining them for a family breakfast.

Chapter 26: The Women

Arianwyn, Helaena, Alicent, and Brynna sip tea (and wine) and enjoy a moment of relaxation as the dressmakers and craftspeople of King’s Landing present them with their wares.

Chapter 27: Pillow Talk

Together in bed, Aemond & Aria exchange new vows and old secrets.

Chapter 28: Vhagar & Emrys

Six years after the beach on Driftmark, the Queen of All Dragons and Emrys, the young black dragon called Balerion, Second of His Name, by the smallfolk of King’s Landing, finally meet.

Chapter 29: The Bath

Aemond and Arianwyn relax with a shared bath after their dragonflight.

Chapter 30: Storytime

Arianwyn is summoned to the Queen's chambers to fulfill a promise she made to Prince Jaehaerys.