Aemond X Fem!reader - Blog Posts

Aemond Targaryen

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She's Ours

Aemond & Aegon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: cursing,yk the typical Targaryen incest,she/her pronouns, breeding kink, 18+, MDNI

Requested by @themotherofhorses :ok so here’s my idea !!Im obsessed with the idea of aemond & aegon being in love with their niece, and back on Drift mark, aegon and aemond propose a marriage between them and their younger niece (who’s either the trueborn daughter of daemon or laenor bc her pure valyrian is what pulls them in). aemond claims vhagar essentially as a wedding gift while aegon promises to talk to their mother to instead betroth helaena to jace and them two to their niece. however, the entire drama ensues, and the brothers “lose” their niece before anything can be done. cue the time jump, they’re older, aegon is about to wed helaena against his will, when he suggests to aemond that they sneak off to dragonstone and “claim” their niece as their own.

A/n: I loved this idea and sorry it took a while to figure out how I should do it!

~Young Aemonds Pov~

“You’re staring at her.” Aemond jumps at the sound of his brothers voice and turns to look at him. “ she is beautiful,maybe mother would let us marry her.” Aegon says while looking at his brother. “Mother hates any of our sisters children I don’t think she would.” Aemond thought about it, he always had. Him and Aegon have been thinking about this idea for months now but they have to play it safe or else mother will definitely not allow it. “If you want to prove to y/n that you love her then claim a dragon, a perfect wedding gift and I will talk to mother.” Aegon did really think his brother was going to go through with it.

-3 days later-

~Your Pov~

Waking up from the sound of your chamber doors opening, you turn to see your sisters Rhaena and Baela running in with panicked looks on their faces. “What’s wrong?” You rub your eyes trying to wake up. “Someone took Vhagar!” Baela replies. “Shit!” Getting up and putting something over your nightgown to cover you. Opening your door, you run outside with your sisters trailing behind.

Once you’re outside you see Vhagar landing and Aemond getting off. Shocked and confused on how he got her to trust him. ”Uncle what are you doing?” “Claiming my dragon dear neice.” Before you could reply Rhaena beats you too it. “You have no right! She was mine to claim!”

“Then you should’ve claimed her, maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride, it would suit you.” Aemond snakily replied. It’s like everything flashed before your eyes. Seeing the others punch Aemond while he’s on the ground. “stop it! Right now!” Rushing over to Aemond. “Get off him.” Pushing them away. Finally getting them to separate. You thought that was the end of it,but nothing could have predicted what was about to happen as you see the blade reach aemonds face. Screaming he falls to the ground. You rush over trying to help him stop the bleeding but nothing was helping. “What did you do!? Leave and go to mother.” You watch the guards take Aemond to the maesters. Leaving you to follow.

~

A week later Rhaenyra, Daemon and the kids where all packed up and headed to Dragonstone. You on the other hand didn’t want to leave your uncles, you were close with them, and your mother didn’t like it one bit. Making you come along you watch as your uncles begged their mom to let you stay. They were heartbroken, they didn’t get to ask their mother about the hopes in marrying you. You hug them one last time before following your mother.

~ Years later~

You get down from Vermithor to see your mother waiting for you. Running your hand across his scales soothing him. He may be a grumpy old man but he’s a beauty and a stubborn one at that. It took a while to get him to trust you but in the end it was worth it. Having no dragon as a babe was tough, your father Daemon didn’t like the fact his daughter didn’t have one. He even questioned if you where his at one point. Shaking those thoughts away, you walk up to your mother. “You have another letter” Rhaenyra says looking at you, questioning if she should be looking at these letters you get almost every day.

Taking the letter from her hands, you thank her before walking to your chambers. It's a daily thing your uncles do, send you a letter every time they get a chance to.

~ Aemond's Pov~

Watching Aegon beg for something was weird for Aemond, especially begging his mother to wed him to their niece instead of Helaena but she was adamant refusing to change her mind. "You will be wed to your sister in four days." Alicent says as they watched their mother walk off after stating her decision is final.

"We need to go to Dragonstone." Aegon turns towards Aemond thinking of an idea. "And what would we do that for?" Aegon looks at him and replies "to take our niece as ours. Mother will have no say when we take our nieces maidenhood." Aemond raises a brow at his brother for such a thought, but he ponders it thinking how tight her pussy would be around his cock as he fucks his seed deep into her. Groaning at the thought he feels his cock harden and agrees.

As they head over to the Dragon Pit they both can’t help but let their mind wander with disgusting thoughts about their niece making them speed up to the pit feeling the need to claim her.

~ Your Pov~

You say your final good nights to your mother before heading to your chambers. As you walk in you see your maidens already have a bath ready for you. Stripping bare, you settle in,closing your eyes. They start with washing your hair, then onto your body after not hearing the door open. Suddenly you don’t feel their hands anymore. But no longer than a minute later their hands are back on you. The sound of the door shutting, makes you jump and open your eyes to only be met with the two princes. You gasp not expecting their intrusion before realizing they kicked your maidens out and seeing the rags are now in their hands. Sitting up, you hug them both ignoring the fact that you are bare under the bubbles.” How on earth did you guys get in here?,does my mother know? She will kill you guys!” You panic looking around before feeling a hand on your shoulder. “Your mother does not know we are here, now let’s keep it that way dear niece.” Aemond pushes your hair out of your face while leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Marry us” you could have sworn you hard your neck snap with how fast you turned your head to Aegon. Not knowing what to say, you sit there in shock.”you keep your mouth open like that I might just want to shove my cock into it.” Much to Aegons surprise you reply back, “what if I want your cock in my mouth?” “Such a dirty girl, have you been thinking about your uncles? Fucking yourself to our letters hm?” Suddenly you feel a wave of pleasure making you take your eyes off Aegon over to Aemond. Whimpering feeling him rub your already sensitive clit before slipping a finger into you. You grip his arm at the sudden intrusion. Aemond feels you buck your hips against his hand trying to catch your release but right before you break, he pulls his hand away. He hears a small whine before reassuring you that you’ll get to cum but only on their cocks. Getting out of the cold tub, you grip their pants unbuttoning their bottoms one by one but before you could finish Aegon grips your hands and pulls you towards him and slams his lips on yours. You feel Aemond pressed up behind you already naked. Tilting your head back feeling the light kisses he places on your neck before picking you up and laying you on your bed. Aegon gets undressed as Aemond hovers over you. He grips his cock and rubs it up and down your lips before slowly pushing into you. Groaning he leans his head into your neck and pushes all the way in. He looks down at you after lifting his head before asking if you are okay. With a quick nod, you wrap your legs around him in hopes he will start to move, which he takes as a hint and slowly starts moving. “So fucking tight.” He groans quickening his pace. You look over at Aegon seeing him fuck his cock with his hand making you clench around Aemond, pulling a few curses from the one eyed man above you.” You want my brothers cock in your mouth?hm? need to have your uncles cocks to feel fucked out like a whore.” You nod but that wasn’t enough for Aemond “beg for it” “please uncle I need you in my mouth,please I’ll be a good girl.” Whining feeling Aemond quicken his pace at your begging. Aegon walks up to you with his cock in his hand and taps it on your lips making you open your mouth. You feel hands grip your long platinum white hair that matches theirs. Aegon thrusts roughly not giving you a chance to get used to his size in your mouth. “Fuck your mouth feels heavenly” Aegon curses as you moan around his cock. “Yeah you like that huh such a little cock slut, I’m gonna stuff you so full of my seed, gonna make you a muña, you would like that, give us our heirs, keep you full of our seed every year, round with our children.” Whimpering you clench around Aemond. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Aegon thrusts harder before looking down at you asking if your close.Pulling away for a second you mumble a quick yes before reaching up and jerking off the rest of aegon that you can’t fit in your mouth. Freezing you climax clenching down cumming.You feel Aemond gripping your hips, knowing there will be bruising in the morning.

Aemond lays against you coming down from his high before kissing your forehead and lying next to you. Wiping your lips free of Aegons release you suck your finger into your mouth while making eye contact with him. Moving away he settles between your legs pumping his length already hard again. “Did you really think I was finished darling?” He chuckles before thrusting into you for round two.

A/n: Sorry if some things were messed up didn't fully proofread. This was my first House of Dragon smut so bear with me. Also, I didn't want to use High Valyrian really in this story until I'm more comfortable with writing the characters. Hope you guys liked it!

Requests are open!

Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (3/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bed slave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), non-canon storyline

Author's note: Short little chapter but at last, an update!

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< part 2 masterlist

By the time Aemond had made all his reports, listened to the yappings of all the council members and sat through hours of further strategy planning, he wanted to rip out each strand of his hair.

It was hard for him to focus already, the worries over his precious bed slave and her madness over their, over his, sons had all but consumed every part of his mind, and yet, odd stares from his mother and grand maester Orwyle made him all the more restless.

Finally, the council meeting was concluded and the Lords left the room. Aemond would watch in silence as Criston helped the struggling king to his feet and down the stairs.

Aegon had been burned and injured gravely during the battle at Rooks Rest over a year ago where Meleys had ingulfed him and his dragon in dragonfire, but he was growing more and more capable these days and managed to attend the council meetings from time to time.

Still, Aemond remained the prince regent, but would sit opposite of the king’s seat at the foot of the long wooden table whenever his brother was in attendance.

From there, he watches as neither his mother nor Orwyle made any attempts to move from their seats, just as he didn’t.

Sitting in tense silence for several moments, Aemond eventually fixates on the elder man to his right. Glaring at him, his voice is little more than a growl, he asks,

“Care to explain to me what is going on with my mistress?”

Orwyle takes a moment to answer, shifting nervously in his seat and glancing to the dowager queen sitting opposite of him before turning his attention back to the prince regent.

“Your mistress, my prince, would appear to suffer from some sort of birth induced mania. It happens from time to time, unfortunately.” He states before carefully adding. “Mothers of such circumstance… they should be separated from the child. They are unable to care for the babes and may harm them during manic episodes.”

Aemond’s face hardens, his jaw clenching. “She is perfectly capable to care for my sons. I have gone to meet her already. I do not believe for a moment she suffers from true madness.”

“She does.” Alicent speaks up. “She would chase anyone out of her room, preferably with the nearest sharp object in hand. Your whore is incapable of caring for your sons.”

“That is a lie!” Aemond snaps his head to her. “What would you even know of this? She and what I do with her is none of your concern, I have told you so a hundred times already.”

“I am your mother. Mind your tongue when talking to me.” The red-haired woman hisses before continuing. “I am also the dowager queen and queen mother. With the queen still occupied in her grief, the Red Keep is my responsibility in your absence. That makes your whore and her spawn my responsibility as well. I needed to deal with the drama she caused. Had she not locked herself away I can assure you, this matter would have long been settled already.”

“Settled?” Aemond scoffs. “And what would that have looked like? Taken my sons from her? And then what?”

“Most certainly. And she must receive treatment-“

“Treatment? What would your great treatment entail?”

“Treatment varies from individual to individual. It remains to be seen what methods work best on her. Is that not right, grand maester?” Alicent urges Orwyle to speak up.

“…yes. Yes, your grace. It is difficult to predict which treatments will work best on her.” The man nods softly.

Aemond was well aware of how maesters would attempt to cure madness. Their methods would be torturous. His own methods of bringing her into full submission when he first claimed her would seem tame in comparison. His stomach turns at the thought of what they would have done to her in his abscence had she not kept her door locked at all times.

“You will do no such thing.” Aemond growls. “No one but me touches her. No one but me will make any decision on any treatments. She is not mad. The babes are healthy. There is no need to intervene.”

“Now they are. But they weren’t always. Your children should be supervised by maesters not by some deranged lowborn.” Alicent retorts.

Aemond furrows his brows, looking at his mother in disbelief. His y/n hadn’t said anything of the sorts. “Now? Now? What is that supposed to mean?”

After another nod from the dowager queen, Orwyle explains, “It… appears we might have miscalculated the day of conception. The babes came early, it seems. Weak, very small, frail. It borders on a miracle the boys live, my prince.”

Aemond stares at him dumbfounded. He held his sons just a few hours earlier, they seemed well. Plumb, full of life. Not just that, he himself had been there when they conceived. He was sure his seed took the very first night that he dragged her to his bed near a year ago. He had watched her belly swell even before he brought her here to the Red Keep.

It made no sense the babes were born sickly when not a single issue had been encountered before. Not even when she was going about her duties of tending to him with little struggle. Well, as long as she could sit down, lay on her side and not have to bend over, that is.

The maesters voice brings him out of his thoughts. “It is best the babes be closely supervised by maesters and raised by experienced nursemaids and wetnurses. Your… mistress should not have them. Mad or not, she will not be able to provide your sons with the care they need to survive.”

Aemond had always been a stubborn man. Perhaps it was his thick head that made him refuse the maesters urging, or perhaps it was his trust is his little bed slave that did so. She was a pure hearted woman, her heart soft. She had learned her new place in life quickly, she had not once betrayed him or given him any reason to doubt her.

She had nothing to gain from lying to him but everything to lose.

She was so convinced of the maesters wanting to steal their children, it could not be a mistake. She would not beg him for help and forgo all formalities with him unless she was truly afraid.

Aemond’s thoughts and emotions were in turmoil now, struggling to discern the truth between y/n’s words, the words of his mother and the grand maester, and the facts he knew to be true.

Staring off at the empty king’s chair in the distance, his voice is little more than a murmur when he asks, “What do you even care for? She’s nothing but a whore in your eyes. You see my sons as bastards only. Why do you care for what happens to them?”

Aemond freezes at his mother’s following shameless reply. He can’t believe she would just state something like this as if it was nothing unusual. It would seem little more than an odd phrasing of words to some but with his suspicions in mind, it's all the confirmation he needs.

“She is a whore, yes. She has seduced you so she can live in luxury far above her station. You’re just a foolish young man with no control of his urges. But… the fact remains that you have no heir. With only a daughter and no sons, they could be of good use to you had you done your wife the courtesy of putting them into her belly instead.”

His gaze cold as ice, he stares at her, never once looking away as he growls. “So it’s true what y/n says? That you plan to steal my sons from her and give them to Floris?”

Alicent seems taken aback, her surprised expression shortly finding Orwyle’s startled one before quickly moving back to her son. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/n.” Aemond says firmly. “She says she has heard someone say it. That you tasked the maesters to take my sons from her and give them to Floris.”

Alicent remains quiet for a while before her own face hardens. Straightening her posture and keeping her hands clasped firmly in front of her on the table, she begins to lecture her son.

“You have a lady wife, Aemond. A respectable, honorable lady wife of high birth. Princess Floris has given you a daughter already and served you faithfully.” She begins. “The only thing you still need is a legitimate son. With your wife’s recent stillbirth during your absence, it would be easy to arrange so. Give your whore’s sons to her. Or just one, even. You can pass him off as hers and have your-“

“ENOUGH!” Aemond roars, his fists slamming onto the table as he stands up, the chair loudly scraping across the floor. “I will not hear of this! How DARE you try and steal my sons from y/n!”

Alicent’s face remains resolute, her chin held up high in defiance, while Orwyle looks like he wants to vanish beneath the floor.

“I did what needed to be done. Stop coddling your whore, Aemond. Let her pay back for living on the crown’s cost and causing your lady wife distress. Let her produce the boys and you make them heirs, as the sons of you and Princess Floris.”

Mouth hanging open, Aemond can barely believe what his mother is saying. “If anyone has gone mad here, it is you, not her.” He says firmly. “I cannot believe you would betray me like this. Go against my orders, willing to harm my y/n.”

He glares down at his mother as he continues, “Floris will not have my sons. She does NOT deserve them. She has failed me. Failed as my wife, failed as a woman. My mistress has done within a year what that bitch of a wife could not manage in five. Y/n will keep my sons and all other children I will put into her belly and all of them will be made my heirs. Not as Floris’s children, but as y/n’s. I will legitimize them at once and have them declared as my heirs.”

“Have you lost your mind?!” Alicent is the one yelling now. “You cannot do that! Think of the shame that it would bring to your wife! Of how it will disrupt our ally with the Baratheon’s!”

“She is the one that brings shame to me!” Aemond shouts back, his face filled with pure rage and hatred. “It is her failing that has made me the laughingstock across the realm! Made me the maimed prince whose cock does not work! Now they will no longer laugh, now that I have my sons! Lord Borros praised me her fertility but delivered a woman unable to carry a child properly. It is his own doing our alliance has faltered. He will not speak against my y/n or our sons. He will accept them as my heirs. He will remain loyal to our side or I will personally fly south and turn Storm’s End into a second Harrenhal!”

With that, Aemond throws the nearest cups and parchments off the table before turning on his heel to make his way out the door, curses at his mother and wife flowing out his mouth as he does so.

In his rage, Aemond makes his way to the training yard, the urge to stab one of the dummies repeatedly or challenge one of the poor squires to a duel overwhelming him.

< part 2 masterlist

Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (2/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bedslave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), obsessive!aemond, non-canon storyline

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< part 1 masterlist part 3 >

When Aemond finally arrived back in the Red Keep he paid the staff and advisors waiting for him at the entrance little mind, waving them off dismissively before making his way towards his precious bedslaves chamber. 

He knew you must've given birth by now and he could not wait a moment longer to find out what happened and how you're faring.

Approaching your chamber with a quick step he took note of the unusual sight of the guard standing opposite of the door, not in front of it as usual, though he did not inquire about it. Instead, his hand fell onto the door handle and he pushed down on it, wanting to make his entrance but instead walking into the wooden door, his forehead connecting to it with a thud.

Stunned, he's standing in front of it for a few moments, blankly staring at the dark wood before starting to slowly press down and rattle on the door handle yet again. 

Nothing. It's not budging. Why on earth is this door locked? A sense of panic washed over him as he keeps rattling the door, all worst case scenarios he could think of filling his head at once. 

With hurried steps a maester approached. He had waited at the entrance for him with the others, wanting to inform him about your peculiar behaviour, but struggling to keep up with the younger man's hurried step when he had brushed past him.

“Wait, my prince!” He finally catches up to Aemond as he stands rattling your door with a confused and frustrated expression.

“What do you want?” He snaps, his voice bitter and sharp. “Why is her door locked? Where is the key?” 

“My prince, I need to talk to you about her. It would be best if we go somewhere quiet.” The maester answers, still out of breath.

Aemond felt a chill run down his spine, this could not be good. “Just tell me now. What has happened to her?” His voice was curt, the way it always was when he’s worried. He wanted to know now, not have it dragged out any longer. 

“I believe it's best we discuss this in your chambers, my prince.” 

He gave the maester a look, his fist clenching at his side as his frustration started to grow into anger. “My chambers then.” He gruntled dismayed before turning and walking towards them. The pair soon arrived and Aemond quickly shut the door behind them.

“Just tell me. What's wrong with her? What has happened to my y/n?” 

“My prince, I'm afraid she has developed some sort of hysteria.” The maester says and sighs, sitting down on a nearby chair. “The birth went well for a twin birth, both babes healthy. She seemed normal the first few days but had soon grown paranoid, not letting any of us handle the babes anymore. She has taken to locking herself into her room at all times.”

“And you have allowed this?” Aemond barks. “You've allowed my y/n to go into hysterics? Did she take any medicine you gave her? Are the babes well?” His tone was accusing, as though this had been completely this maesters fault. 

The idea of his precious bed slave going hysterical all alone in her chambers was deeply unsettling to him.

The old man shakes his head. “She allowed treatment of her body after the birth but never took any of the medicine we tried to give her. She only drinks water and tea, but tea only if the it is served dry and she can brew it herself. I assume it's to inspect the leaves. She insists no guards stand in front of the door, seemingly concerned they will grab her. As for the babes, the last time I saw them when I went in to plead with her, they both looked well. Grown plumb over the weeks she seems to be giving enough milk for the two. She washes and changes them herself. She… She eats and cleans herself too, though she does not look well.”

“How long has it been like this? How long has she kept herself locked away?” He asks angrily. He had been away for months, yes, but she never showed any such behaviour herself. Never once did she show the slightest signs of madness or hysteria before. He cursed the war as his frustration and worry grows in him. 

He should've stayed. He never should have left her alone.

“She seemed to be growing agitated almost immediately after the birth and soon took to locking herself in at night. We were still allowed to handle the babes then but she would always stand right behind us and never leaving them out her sight.  A fortnight or so later she started keeping the door locked at all times and denied anyone to touch them.”

“She is denying anyone to touch them? This is madness!” An anxious knot forms in his stomach as he realises the extent this had reached. “Have any servants been in her room at all?”

“She opens the door for servants when they bring food or come to clean her room or run a bath. However, when she does let anyone into her room, she will have both babes tied to her chest and stand in a far back corner away from them while they work.” 

“She is keeping them bound to her chest? Does she know that they can't spend their whole life glued to her body?” Aemonds mind was reeling at this point. He knew she was simple-minded and uneducated but a child, she was not. She knew better, that he was sure of. 

Something else must be going on, some reason for her madness… 

As his mind keeps reeling the maester speaks up. “I'm afraid she is unfit to raise these babes, my prince. I recommend they be taken from her.” He states matter of factly. 

“No.” Aemond states firmly and quickly. This was a suggestion he hadn't expected at all. This man wants to take these infants from their mother and sees no issue with it? That was a cruelty even he wouldn't commit.

“She has only just given birth. You will not take the babes from their mother, especially not when she's proven herself capable to care for them despite going mad. I will deal with this when I have the time. For now just let her be and don't try to touch my children anymore. Is that clear?”

The maester shakes his head, his voice increasingly firm. “My prince, i don't think this is  right. She needs to be separated from them. There is another thing you should know… they are both boys.Your only sons so far, my prince. You cannot allow them in the grasps of a mad woman.”

For the first time in this conversation he seemed lost for words. The news of the babes being boys shook him to the core. It was a dream come true, of course, though he was so focused on the prospect of having any children strong enough to survive he had forbidden himself to hope for even one son, let alone two.

His only sons - his legacy, his blood.

What his wife had failed to provide him within four years of marriage, his bed slave had given him without issue.

The thought of her now gone mad and denying him access to them was outrageous, yet the maesters' continued attempt to separate them was even more infuriating to him.

She was a mere bed slave to him, flesh to make him happy whenever the mood took him, or so he thought. 

Knowing she was the mother of his only sons stirred both happiness and concern in him. Mad or not, she was his. His to use as he see fit, but also his to protect and care for. His responsibility, she and their sons. 

His sons.

His hands clenched at his sides as he approached the older man with quick steps. “You dare defy my orders?” He grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him up to his feet, dragging him out of the room. “She does as I say and so do you. She will care for these children as she would if she were in her right mind, regardless how long it will take her to recover. I will see her right away.” 

The older man struggles to keep up with him, continuously protesting and objecting to his decision, urging him to take his sons away from her for their own protection.

With each of his words Aemonds rage grows in him. 

Could he not shut up? He said himself that the babes are fine. What's the urgency to take them away?

He finally reaches her chamber. “Open the bloody door.” He barks after knocking several times. Trying hard to push his anger back and not snap at her the second this door opens

You flinch when you hear the loud bangs and his shouts outside the door. Frozen in both fear and excitement it takes a few moments before you rush to put down the book you were reading and hurry to the door, one hand on the babes backs as they snuggle to your chest in the fabric tied around your body, the other hand on the wooden door as you lean against it, trying to hear the voice better and convince yourself it was really him. 

“Aemond? Is that you?”

He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears your voice, a faint smile tugging at his lips at the sound of it. It had always been music to his ears, a balm to his otherwise frantic mind.

“Open the door, y/n.” His voice remains firm. He would not have you play games with him right now, despite his happiness of being reunited with you.

You unlock the door and open it slowly, peeking outside. When you see him, a wave of relief washes over you. 

He was the only one able to save you, you were certain. 

The feeling of relief vanishes when you take note of the maester standing not far behind him.

“Not him.” You demand in a shaky voice, staring at the old man and ignoring Aemond completely.

When he sees you for the first time after so long, his heart flutters. You looked awful, yes, dark circles around your eyes, your face pale and sunken, hair dull and tangled. You looked drained, both your body and mind.

The maester tries to interject and walks closer but is immediately stopped and waved off by Aemond.

“No, not him. Just me.” he assures you, his tone now softened by your appearance and apparent fear. He steps inside when you make way for him, watching as you hastily close and lock the door once again.

When you turn around to face him you see him watching you already, analysing you in great detail. His gaze stops on your chest, trying to catch a glimpse of the tiny babes hidden beneath the fabric.

“You… you're back.” You say after long moments of silence.

“Yes, I'm back. Are they well?” Is the first thing on his mind. He steps closer to you. He wants his sons, yes, but he also wants you. Desperately.

You flinch and step back when he approaches, both hand wrapped protectively around your chest and the babes. Your voice is shaky and eyes glazed over as if you will cry any moment.

“Yes, they are. What did they tell you?”

The sound of your voice, the tremble when you answer him, it's enough to make his heart clench with worry. His hands itch with the urge to reach out and hold you, but he holds back, not wanting to scare you off again.

“They said you aren't well. That you lock yourself in this room at all times.That you haven’t allowed anyone to touch the babes. Tell me that is not true.”

“It is. They don't need to. I  do it well enough.” You stammer.

“You're keeping them away from them - from MY sons.” He says slowly, his voice carrying more anger and a threat this time. He steps forward and you step back again, a sharp stab of pain fills his chest when he sees you cowering away from him yet again.

“Why? I have the right as their father to be able to touch my sons. I won't let anyone keep them from me, not even you. Y/n, let me see my sons.”

You can feel your breath hitch in your throat, your jaw clenching. Hesitating for several moments, you eventually walk around him with great distance, over to the bed where the two cradles stand. 

Undoing the fabric carefully you take Aurelius out first and put him in his bassinet before doing the same with Patroclus. You stand next to them, preparing and folding the fabric for the next use. 

Aemond approaches slowly, his eye wide with wonder as his gaze focuses into the small beds and studying the two tiny humans attentively. They're both awake, looking back up at him with wide, curious eyes while sucking their thumbs, both moving in union and mirroring each other's actions as if they were one.

Your own movements are quick and tense, your eyes wide as you watch him approach your sons. He notices it all and feels his heart grow heavy at the sight of you. 

He had imagined this moment often, before he left and while he was gone, wondering how it'd be when he finally reunites with you and seesyour shared children for the first time. 

Never could he ever have imagined it being this way.

He sighs before turning his attention back to your sons, reaching out towards the nearest one and slowly picking him up. 

Your breath hitches at the sight and you clutch the fabric you're still holding onto in your hands, eyeing him like a hawk as he begins to cradle him on his arm. Aemond reaches out to stroke the white fluff on his son's head gently before taking the tiny hand in his.

Aemond seems lost in thought as he gently rocks the babe in his arms, smiling to himself. He's never been a fond or present father but the sight of his son's hand clutching onto his own finger makes him feel a way he hasn't felt before. A sense of pride swells in him as well as many other emotions he cant understand just now.

“What are their names?”

You calm slightly  when you see Aemond handle your son so calmly and smile widely.

“You're holding Aurelius, the elder, the younger is Patroclus.”

He hums as he leans over the crib and looks back and forth between the two, trying to tell them apart but failing to find any differences.

“I think Patroclus should be in his fathers arms, too.” He says out loud as he watches the younger move around and wave his arms excitedly.

You nod and put aside the fabric before reaching into the cradle to pick up the younger, helping to carefully place him onto Aemonds other arm. 

Aemond smiles down at both of them, rocking them gently from side to side. His sons, his blood, his legacy - so innocent and pure. When his gaze falls onto the fabric you had just put aside he asks you, his voice gentle and soft, “Why do you do that? Tie them to your chest?”

“So they're safe.” You answer quickly. “And they are calmer that way, especially when they're awake. They will fuss otherwise.”

“I see…” He replies carefully, nodding along while his gaze keeps wandering back and forth between the two tiny boys. “And… No one is allowed to touch them? Not even wash them, change them? You want to do it all by yourself?” 

“Yes. Aemond-” You begin before stopping yourself and looking around the room nervously. Noticing two open windows you quickly scurry over to close them. 

I need to tell him. I need to tell him now.

Aemonds brows furrow in confusion as he watches you hurry away to close the windows. That doesn't seem like a normal mother, he thought to himself. Why is she still acting so strangely? She should be delighted that he was back.

“What? What is it?”

Once all windows are closed you rush back to him, worry and fear etched all over your face as you stand in front of him, your bodies mere inches apart while your trembling hands move to grab his arms. Leaning in over the two tiny babes watching your every move you whisper to him as if someone else were in the room. 

“You need to help me, Aemond, please. They… they're trying to steal my sons from me.”

A chill runs down his spine at your words. How in the world did you convince yourself of this? Your fear was real, he could tell that much. Despite being safe in the castle you feared for your sons.

That must be what's driving her into madness. 

“No ones trying to steal your sons, y/n. The maesters are just concerned for their well being with you locking them away like this. Y/n, you must-”

“No!” You object. “No, no! Aemond you don't get it!” You're whisper-yelling at him, moving even closer, your eyes brimming with tears as your voice starts to quiver.

“The maesters, they want to steal them! Ever since they saw they are boys they've been scheming to take them from me! They want to steal them and give them to Floris to pass off as hers, I'm sure of it! I've heard them say it!” 

Your voice breaks as you start to plead with him. “Please, Aemond, you can't let that happen! I'm begging you!”

She really had lost her mind, He thinks to himself, taking a step back from you with both babes still in his arms. Shocked by how adamant and crazed you seem he can only shake his head and sigh deeply. You really believed this, he could tell.

Just when he starts speaking and wants to call you mad, his voice suddenly dies in his throat and he goes quiet. 

His mind wanders back to the maester that stands right outside the door at this very moment. The same one that had been adamant his sons be taken from you. The same one that had dared to defy his order and speak against him of all people several times, trying to stop him from seeing his y/n. Could there be truth to this after all? Maybe she wasn't as mad as he thought she was…

He clears his throat, trying to decide on what to do. He needed to get to the root of all this but not before calming you down. 

“No one will take them from you, y/n. I forbid anyone from doing so. I would kill anyone, maester or servant, before I let that happen.” 

You look at him, breathing heavily from the distress in your mind, studying his expression and eye in hopes of seeing the truth in it. 

Eventually, you swallow dryly and shake your head gently, not believing his words.  

“I will not leave that door unlocked, Aemond. I will not let them steal my sons.”

His face falters slightly at your words and behaviour. You seemed mad with the way you acted and spoke but he could tell the madness was fuelled by real fear. 

He sighs in defeat, understanding he won't get anywhere with this. Not now, at least. All he can do for now is try and support you within the little space of your mind that has not been clouded by fear.

“I understand you worry for your son's well-being but no one will take them away. I promise you this. I swear it to you. But… you need to let someone in. You need help, y/n. You can't do this all alone. You need to rest more.”

“No, Aemond.” You shake your head again. “I can only sleep when they sleep and that door is locked. Only when I know they can’t pry them from my sleeping body.”

The sound of your trembling voice filled with fear was like a dagger to his heart. You were clearly terrified and exhausted. He had to resolve this, find something, anything to make you stop fearing. You are the mother of his sons. You deserve his protection. As your protector, he must find a way to protect you even from your own mind.

“You will sleep. You will eat. And you will stop doing this. I need you to be healthy. Our sons need you to be healthy.” He begins, his voice firm but gentle. 

“I will send all masters away. Not one will be allowed in here unless you allow it. I will have two guards at your door at all times. They will be sworn to me and you. They will not let any maester enter without your permission and they will not take orders from anyone but us two. I will also appoint a handmaid to you. Someone I will select carefully, one that can be trusted. She will also be sworn to you and me only. I will instruct her not to take the boys unless you allow it. But you need to let her in and let her help you, let her take care of you. Will you do that for me? For Aurelius, for Patroclus?”

You stare at him for a long while, mouth opening and closing several times, struggling to make a decision. You had prayed for his safe return and his help daily for weeks on end. Now that he was finally here and trying to help you, you know you should accept it. He was right, after all, but the fears in your mind were too strong to just act like nothing happened. 

“Just… just one.” You accept eventually. “Just her. And… and I will still keep that door locked. But I will let her in. Her and you only.”

A small smile forms on Aemonds lips and he sighs in relief. He had won this small battle at least but it couldn't go on forever like this.

He assures you again while he puts the boys back down into their cradles with your help and pulls you into a tight hug despite your protests. 

He holds you close to his chest and strokes your back gently as he repeats the same promises over and over again before eventually letting go of you reluctantly. 

Bidding you goodbye for now he steps out the door, grumbling dismayed when he hears the door shut and lock as soon as he steps out the door frame. 

He turns to leave but the maester that had been waiting all this time wastes no time, following him and speaking to him with the same urgency as before. “See, she is mad! My prince, you must intervene before something happens”

Aemond stops and turns to look at the man, the anger growing in him with every word. He struggles to hold back his accusations, knowing he can't say too much before he gets the chance to investigate further.

“She is not mad, that I can guarantee you. There is nothing wrong with her. You'd do well to start abiding by my orders and leaving her and my sons alone before I have you punished for your insolence.” 

Its now the maesters turn to grow angry at the prince, though he pushes his emotions aside so as not to risk losing his head, but he still can't stop his objections. His status as the Court maester was always enough to make the nobles and royals cling to his every word like gospel but this young, green prince was challenging his expertise without second thought.

“No prince should have a madwoman have his only sons in her grasp. She must not be allowed to keep them. Who knows, she may harm them, and then what? She must be placed in confinement before she hurts someone!” He demands, his tone firm and cold.

Aemond snaps at him now, approaching him with a quick step and raising a warning finger to him. There definitely was much more to this situation than he first thought, he was sure of it now.

“She is not mad! There is no way she would harm her children! She will be allowed in her chamber with her sons and with all the rest and care she deserves. Door locked and all. Am I understood?”

The older man needs to stand down eventually, leaving the matter be for now. 

He follows the prince along as they wander the long hallways towards the council room, following Aemonds initial summoning of the small council to report all that has happened during his time on the battlefield.

He needs to sit through what feels like hours of discussions with his brother, King Aegon, his mother Alicent and all the other members of the small council before he can finally attempt to make sense of his y/n’s paranoia and fear of the maesters.

< part 1 masterlist part 3 >

Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (1/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bedslave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), non-canon storyline

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

masterlist part 2 >

You sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers as you stared into the lit fire. The room was silent apart from the crackling of the fire and you felt his stare burn into you. It felt as though a heavy burden lay atop your head, suffocating you with every moment made to spend in his presence.

You had no idea how, for you were nothing but a lowborn bastard fathered by some bright haired high-born, working as a servant in the castle of Harrenhal. Young, mere 16 years of age, plain features, you had never thought yourself to be anything special, though it seems there was at least one person that would disagree with that. 

Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen.

Somehow, in all the panic and madness that was his seize of the city, you had caught his eye.

It had all happened so fast. Dragged into his chambers by his guards you had little time to process what was happening. He was already on top of you when you finally understood what now was your fate. Claimed as his spoil of war and made his bedslave, he had taken your maidenhead with force that night, in the same ruthless manner he would many nights after that. 

Locked in his chambers there was little room for escape and after only three turns of the moon, a master had proclaimed you to be with child, shortly after that he had confirmed you to be carrying twins.

You had asked him for moontea more than once, yet were always denied. You were his to do with as he pleased and he was set on you having a child of his.

You often wondered why. You were busy tending to him all day and night, from fulfilling his every desire to bathing him and oiling his hair. Yet, in his many times of absence whenever he was out fighting on the battlefield, you had nothing else to do but think.

Eventually, you had settled on your own theory; He was married to Floris Baratheon, they had been wed two years before the war first started. Now, their fourth year of marriage approached, and after much struggle she brought forth only two daughters. You had heard all the stories about her and Aemond, of countless miscarriages, about the daughter that died not even a week after her birth, leaving him with only one daughter said to be equally as small and weak as her sisters, though still alive by some miracle of the gods. 

The rumours about their misfortune had travelled fast and far, many of those that opposed him and his brother's reign had claimed he been accursed, even before he slayed his own kin. She was said to be with child now as well, though it was to be seen whether this one would survive his curse or not.

As for your own detriment, you were sure you were a mere experiment of his, an attempt to figure out if he was the cause of the unfruitfulness of his marriage or his wife was. A desperate wish of his to try and prove the rumours wrong.

You didn't know if it was luck or a curse of your own that his seed had taken immediately. 

Your womb had filled with not one but two of his children and you had encountered no issues in carrying them so far. Because of this it was little surprise he had taken you back to the Red Keep with him when he was summoned back to King's Landing.

There, neither his wife nor his mother were impressed with his choices. your mere presence was despised by everyone but him. Quickly you had learned to appreciate being confined to his chambers and to his company alone, as well as the company of the two babes growing in you.

He was a violent man, quick to anger and impatient, yet as your belly had started to swell with his children he seemed more at ease, being calm and almost affectionate so long you did not disobey or disappoint him. 

Quickly adapting, you had learned to submit to all his whims and wills, even if it hurt at times, for you knew there was greater hurt waiting if you didn't. 

There was nothing that upset him more than any form of rejection or disrespect from you.

The weeks went by quickly, you had been with child for almost seven moons now, the presence of two made your stomach larger and rounder than you'd ever expected to be, even though two moons were still to come.

As you’re lost deep in thought his deep voice brings you back to reality.

“Stop sulking like that, you will ruin your pretty face.”

Ungrateful wench. Look at me when I’m talking to you. 

Hearing his voice you turn to face him quickly, seeing him sitting at his desk and eyeing you with a slight glare. Lowering your head for a moment in an apologetic gesture you reply, “I apologise, my price.”

He clicks his tongue in irritation. “You’re making that face again. Do you wish for another reminder of your place?” He huffs, taking a long sip from his cup as his eye never leaves your expression.

“Please don’t, my prince. I’m deeply sorry.” You answer quickly, trying to hide the small tremble in your voice.

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you, standing in front of you and bringing his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. “Then put on a pretty smile for me. You know the rules.” 

You pull your lips into a small smile that does little to hide the gloominess in your eyes. He doesn't care much for that though, so long you do as he commands. 

“Good. That’s my good girl, that’s what I want to see from you.” He praises and pats your head before walking back to his desk, gesturing you to follow he says, “Come here to me, sweet doll.”

You follow suit, grunting slightly as you pull all three of you up from the bed and waddle over to him, standing next to him on his chair and waiting for further instructions.

“Bend over.” He commands, tapping the desk right in front of you with a cruel smirk. “I want to see where I hit you the hardest last time.”

Swallowing nervously you do as told, hiking up your dress to reveal your bare skin underneath and bending over the table as far as your swollen belly allows you to. The large bruises on your right buttock glow brightly against your pale skin, the dim candlelight making the purple look more vibrant than usual.

“Mh. Good.” You can hear his voice and flinch slight when you feel his cold hand make contact with your flesh, roaming over your marked body in a firm yet gentle manner. “And can you remember why I did this?” His voice was as cold as his hand, no emotion present as he inspects the aftermath of your last punishment closer. 

“Because I didn’t serve you well enough, my prince.” 

“Correct.” A sudden slap lands right on the bruise, the pain flaring up again making you gasp. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson because if I have to do it again you really won’t like it.” 

Flinching and groaning at another slap you answer quickly. “I have, my prince.”

“Good.” He was pleased with your submission. His hand leaves your flesh as he tells you, “Fix your dress. I will send you out to the city to collect something for me.” 

He rummages through a drawer of his desk as you take a step back, letting go of your dress and letting it fall down to your feet again. He pulls out a piece of parchment that already has mysterious words written on it that you can't understand and scribbles an address at the foot of it. He hands you a pouch full of coin. “Go and be quick about it. Take the guards with you, and give me those back as soon as you return.” He said, his long digit tapping the bag of coins in your hand.

“It is late, my prince. Are any shops still open at this time of night?” You wonder out loud, genuinely confused. 

It was nothing new for him to send you out to run errands. It was a welcome change from your duties as bedslave and personal maid, as you were still responsible for all his comforts. From bathing him and brushing his hair, to carrying his children to satisfy all his desires. He kept you in his chambers for this very purpose, he preferred your soft tender hands over those of anyone else, even if it meant summoning the wrath of his wife and others. Running errands for him was also the only other time you got to leave the suffocating castle walls. 

In theory you were free to roam the gardens and courtyard, yet the disgusted looks and insults from the ladies there had you staying in his chambers at all times.

“Don’t question me. I want it now. Do as I say and leave at once.” His voice is laced with irritation. 

Is she insolent or plain stupid?

You mumble an apology and bow, grabbing a cloak and hurrying out the room before you manage to mess up again. 

As much as you already loved your children still growing in your belly, in the most recent days you've felt as though they depleted your mind and made you more prone to upsetting your master. 

I can’t upset him. I need to do good.

You gathered two guards to keep you safe as you made your way down into the city, down the streets and alleyways, the address he gave you was far from the castle, close to Flea Bottom. 

Many people stared at you as you made your way through the streets. The night folk were out, it was rare to see a pregnant woman amongst them, even less common for one to be accompanied by royal guards.

You arrived in a small alleyway at last, an unseemingly shop with a sign above the door, you couldn't make out the words in the darkness, only make out a few herbs painted onto the wooden slap that made the sign. 

As you enter a bell announces your entry. “Good evening.” You say into the small and empty shop littered with different containers and brown bottles, a few tools hanging on the walls, the smell of all kinds of herbs mixing in the air and making your head spin soon enough. 

“Good evening,” the hoarse voice of an elderly woman replies as she enters the room through a curtain blocking off the other parts of the building. “Can i help you?”

“Yes. I am here to pick something up for Prince Aemond.” 

She looks you up and down, taking a deep breath as an expression of suspicion drapes over her previously welcoming one. “Really now? And what exactly has our prince sent you to collect?”

“He did not say.” You answer, reaching into the pocket of your cloak to retrieve both the parchment and coin. “But he gave me this note and the coin to pay for it.” 

You had notices strange words written over the address, words you could not understand, yet as this woman takes the note from you it appears she knows their meaning as she surries off behind the curtain she came from and brings back a small vial of strange liquid as well as a packet wrapped in paper, tied close with a string. 

“Here, my dear.” she hands them over to you. “Make sure you take caution on your way back to the palace. You dont want anything… unfortunate to happen to you in the city this late at night.”

“I will, thank you. How much do you get?” You reply as you open the pouch, ready to pay.

“No need for coin, my lady. Its on the house - for our pince’s sake.'' She smiles kindly, bowing slightly as she does.

You mirror her smile, bowing instinctively in return as you had learned to do in the Red Keep - bowing a hundred times too often was better than bowing once too little, you had understood that quickly.

“That is very kind of you, ma’m. I shall inform the prince about your generosity.” Packing away everything into various pockets in your cloak you bid goodbye, only to be stopped by the sound of her voice as you're about to reach the door. 

“I can’t help but notice you are with child. If you are to give birth in the Red Keep, I advise you to be careful.”

Her words make you stop dead in your tracks, turning around slowly to look at her with a frown on your face. “I… I’m sorry?”

“The Red Keep is a dangerous place for women, especially mothers and their small children. You’re having twins, you need be extra cautious.” She said as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if she didn't just say one of the most shocking things you’ve ever heard. 

How does she know this?

“I-” You freeze in shock as you replay her words in you mind, “H-How do you know i’m expecting twins? And… what do I need to be cautious about?”

She smiles back, a smile filled not with innocence but with wisdom and knowledge, one that must’ve witnessed the wicked ways of this world on maany occasions. “I have seen many  women passing through my shop, my dear.” She gestures around to all the varying herbs and potions before continuing “I know when a woman is pregnant and can see when she is carrying twins. As for you needing to be cautious… there are many strange things happening in the Red Keep. Beware, no one there is your friend. The walls have eyes and ears. Do not trust anyone, not the maesters, either.”

“The maesters? Why not them? Are they not there to help me?” Fear creeps up within you, your hand rising to rest on your belly in a protective manner.

“The maesters are servants of the crown and no one in the crown's service can be trusted. They have their own agenda as well.” She says with confidence, stating it as fact rather than an opinion. She steps out from behind the counter, approaching you slowly. “There is much you don't know, my dear, I only wish to warn you. I’m worried for the lives of your children.”

“Can you-” You begin but are interrupted by the door swinging open. The guards have waited long enough and demand your return to the palace. 

You sigh in defeat, knowing that defying the guards is something Aemond will be informed of. Turning to face the elderly lady you bid goodbye. “I apologise. Have a good night, ma’m.” 

She simply smiles warmly. “May the gods protect you.” and watches as you leave.

You make your way back to the palace, her words running through your head like a mantra as you try to figure out the meaning of them.

You need to stop often, taking breaks to you catch your breath.

Stupid hills. Stupid steps.

It must be well in the night now, perhaps even early in the first morning hours, when you finally arrive back in the palace. You open the door to your shared chambers carefully, making sure not to wake the prince. Slipping inside carefully you make no noise in the barely lit room, only letting out a small squeal when you turn around and see him sit at his desk still, a book spread out in front of him as a single candle by his right side illuminates the pages.

“You’re still awake, my prince.” Your voice is but a mere whisper as you start fidgeting with your fingers.

He is dressed in his nightwear and doesn't even bother to look up from his book as he answers, “You took your time.” His voice is laced with annoyance and anger. It's now he looks up at you, studying your frame up and down before demanding, “Stand in front of me.”

You walk over to him, feeling the need to explain yourself as you do so. “I apologise, my prince. The walk back uphill and all the stairs have gotten more difficult with the two babes growing inside of me. I was in need of a few breaks.”

He nods, waiting for you to stand right in front of you. He takes a deep breath as if to calm himself and places a hand on your belly, his palm right over the spot one of the babes always liked to kick into. “You are indeed getting rather large. What have you brought me?”

You look at his hand on your belly. It's a gesture that would be sweet between husband and wife, yet you were not that. Not anywhere close. His growing fascination with your bump always made your blood run cold for some reason. You empty your pockets, placing all of the contents on the desk in front of him. 

“The coin back… and these two things.”

He didn't take his hand off your bump as he watched your movements and inspected the items with his eye. 

His free hand then travels to your hip, pulling you closer to stand between his legs as he keeps his other hand roaming your belly, looking up at you and studying your tired expression. 

After a while he instructs you, his voice now much calmer and seeming almost content as he speaks, “Go sit on the bed. Don’t speak another word unless I say otherwise.”

You nod silently and walk over to the bed, sitting down and relishing the feeling of relief that overwhelms you when the weight of three is finally lifted off your aching feet. 

Watching him as he inspects the package and vile you see him smell all of it, grimacing at the smell of what must be a potion of sorts. You wondered what it smelled like but you knew better than to ask questions. He counts the coins, yet does not comment on them all still there. You want to tell him about the nice lady, but you know better than to disobey his command to stay silent.

He packed it all away, into the same drawer he had taken out the coins in the first place, then looks back up at you. He leans back into his chair, one hand resting on his leg as the other reaches for the cup next to him. “Take off your dress.” He orders and keeps taking the last few sips from the wine.

You do as told quickly, getting up from the bed to undo the straps that hold the dress in place and let it fall open, taking it off and placing it over a chair close to the bed before taking a seat again.

This was far from unusual, you knew his antics by now.

He preferred to play with his prey before devouring it.

Watching you intently he smiles as soon as the first patches of bare skin are revealed. He would never grow tired of ordering you around, too exhilarating was the power he held over you.

As a man, as a prince nonetheless. 

No one could stop him. 

Not his mother, not his wife, not the gods - and especially, not you.

He gets up and walks over to you, his eye roaming over every curve of your gravid body. Your belly grew larger with his children every day, your breasts too were round and swollen. 

They must hurt, he thought to himself from time to time, but until the milk would finally start to flow there was nothing he could do to provide relief. He had tried more than once already, ever the impatient man he was, though it seemed not to be the time for it yet.

His hand placed on your arm he firmly nudges you back and to your side. Lying there like this, on your side with your legs pulled onto the mattress, gave him easy access to indulge in you while also giving him a good view of the body he so worshipped. It was one of the very few positions in which he could take his sweet time without you struggling to breathe under the weight of his children pushing into you. 

He starts taking off his clothes when he strikes up conversation. It was odd, the calmer he took you, the more need for talk he seemed to have. Though the frequency in which he did this nowadays did make it normal to some degree.

“Tell me your fears. What worries you most about the coming birth?”

“Huh?”

Taken aback by his question, you struggle to find an answer. After many moments of tense silence, purely filled with the sounds of his clothes tossed away, you eventually reply. 

“I… I suppose dying…” 

It sounded more like a guess than an answer, Truthfully, you had never though of this yourself. 

Too hopeful that this birth could finally set you free from him, you had never nurtured any negative thoughts or critical questions about pregnancy or birth.

“Dying?” He seemed surprised. His hands worked on you with practised routine, pulling your body closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your legs forward to make space for him. 

He presses his bare manhood against the flesh of your core as he leans forward, hands roaming all over your stomach and breasts, firmly grabbing and playing with the nubs on them as if to check again for any precious liquid. 

“I take it you don’t worry about the lives of my children then. Only for yourself?”

“Of course I do!” You reply, voice a bit firmer now than before, feeling an immediate swell of anger and fear bubble deep inside you. Weird, that never happens. “I just… I think if I'm cold in my grave I can no longer worry about them at all. So, first should be the worry about my own life. Then, if I am to live through the birth, I can worry about them.”

“Interesting…” He says as he now turns his attention to his cock, taking it in his hand and running it through your folds several times. He was never a man that took much time to prepare you, he felt little need to do so. 

Your body responded within seconds of knowing what was about to happen, providing the necessary slick for him either way. On times he took you by surprise and pushed in without notice, it too had taken mere moments for your cunt to embrace and welcome him.

All mine. Responding just how she should.

“Then just trust me.” He says, grunting and huffing softly as he buries himself in the comfort of your walls, gripping onto him in familiar tightness. “You’ll see there will be little to worry about, sweet thing. Just relax. I’d hate to have you dead, too. You’d be of little use in a cold grave for both my children and me.”

Rutting into you at an increasing pace he is soon moaning and groaning with each thrust until he has rid himself of all his spend, grinding it into the deepest parts of you with deep growls and laboured breaths as his own body collapses forward onto yours, his forehead resting on your temple as his hot breath on your skin sends gooseflesh down your body. 

He could not describe it, there was no reasonable explanation for it, but it was you who he had always taken the most pleasure from. No whore or his wife could compare. You had brought him a sense of comfort  he would find nowhere else.

While pleasure wasn’t guaranteed for you in all his takings, it was times like these you did feel it. Times like these where you felt less like a slave and more like a lover. When his bare, sweaty skin would cling to yours, the sensation of his hot breath on your neck making your own hitch in your throat, the inaudible words in what you think to be valyrian growled in his deep voice would make your stomach tighten in a familiar fashion.

In moments like these, you didn’t mind your fate too much.

The days pass and soon turn into weeks.

You never found out what the potion or herbs were about. Soon after that day however, Aemond had given you your own chambers for the first time ever since you came into his service. They were small and humble in comparison to his but still a far cry from what any servant or peasant could wish for.

A large bed with enough blankets and pillows to make it through the coldest winter nights, a table with two chairs, a sofa, two cradles, a wardrobe and other furniture, all made of richly coloured wood with intricate patterns and carvings. 

The chambers were far from his. He did not want screaming babes keeping him up at night, thus the adjustment needed to be made, even if the thought of your impending absence from his bed soured his mood already.

You may have been the prince regent’s favourite and were to have his bastard children, yet you were still a lowly bed slave, thus expected to give birth with only the standard precautions taken and to take care of both babes yourself. No wet nurse or handmaiden to help you. That much you were made aware of as soon as you had arrived in the Red Keep all those moons ago.

What is a frightening thought, to be so young and left to care for two babes alone, did give you a feel of hope regardless. 

Hope for some peace and quiet away from Aemond, hope for being able to sleep and wake up without his hands all over you, and the hope of him finally growing bored of you and relieving him of your service to him. 

There was only a small chance of that happening, you knew, yet you held onto that hope until the day he left for battle again.

He had indulged himself in you daily until then, knowing he would soon have no more chance to do so - at least for a while, until you were fully healed. 

When he had to leave for a long military operation he bid you goodbye before making his way to Vhagar. You watched him leave before retiring to your own chambers, happily confining yourself to your new chambers with books and yarn.

Less than a fortnight after Aemonds departure, the day had arrived. Going into labour in the late hours of the afternoon you had been bed bound for a whole day before your babes would finally make their arrival.

Two sons, healthy and strong despite their small size - the maester had assured you this was a common occurrence for twins. They would fill out soon, he claimed, aiding in calming your fears. 

To your surprise, you were not left as abandoned as you had expected to be. The maester cared for your body as you learned how to nurse your sons, how to change and bathe them. 

You were provided nourishing, large meals, lotions, oils and herbs, your belly bound by ever changing maids. You could tell these were benefits granted to you at the order of the prince. He must have instructed them to do so before he left.

Whether he did this out of the kindness of his heart or purely because he wished you back in his service as quickly as possible in the best possible condition you were not sure, yet you would not complain either.

All you did was focus on your sons who you named Aurelius Waters, the elder one, and Patroclus Waters, the younger one. Briefly had you considered naming them in the traditions of house Targaryen to appease Aemond, but he was not here. 

He could not interfere. They were bastards after all, so you took the liberty of naming them to your heart's content - the first time you've felt in control ever since being forced into his service.

Meanwhile, Aemond was busy on the battlefields, travelling back and forth between the crownlands and riverlands, aiding in one battle after the other as he brought victory after victory to his brother’s cause.

He found his days eerily quiet without the presence of his beloved bed slave by his side. His days seemed dark and gloomy, empty and devoid of life. He looked forward to when he would be reunited with you but to his dismay, his presence was needed for far longer than he had anticipated.

As the days went on, you had soon taken notice of both the maids and maesters who were seemingly fascinated by the fact that both babes were actually growing very fast and became more active than ever. Both were feeding at your breast all day long, soon turning plumb and full of life.

Why were they so suprised? Had they lied to you when they said all would be well?

You could not help but grow increasingly worried and suspicious at the maesters seemingly heightened interest in your sons, the words and warning of the mysterious old lady plaguing your mind even in your sleep. You started locking your chamber at night mere days after giving birth, finding yourself unable to sleep whenever you knew anyone could walk in and do something to your children while you slept.

You tried to stay calm, tried all you could to ease your mind. You tried to take a walk once. To go into the gardens you usually avoided for you knew there were often ladies whispering hurtful insults behind their hands. 

Walking there with both sons tied to your chest with a long, silken piece of fabric, you stopped dead in your tracks when you overheard the hushed whispers of who you assumed to be servans. You stayed and listened, like a deer hearing a branch snap. 

Really? One said. They wouldn’t do that. The other said. I’m certain! I’ve heard it with my own ears! Another proclaimed.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart skipped several beats as you continued to listen in on their conversation. You clutched your sons tighter and turned around on your heels, hurrying back into you chamber and shutting the door behind you with a loud thud, immediately turning the lock closed.

From that day on, the door would stay locked at all times.

You unlocked the door only on few occasions. Whenever a servant brought you food or came to clean, or whenever you put dirty nappies out for someone to take and get rid of. 

Maesters were no longer allowed in your room at all and no one was allowed to touch your sons. You did it all yourself. You could not bear the sight of anyone else touching them, too bad had your paranoia and fears gotten.

You kept the cradles right next to your bed and the babes tied to your chest more often than not. You slept only when they slept and fed, bathed and cleaned them yourself.

By the time Aemond finally returned two months after you welcomed your sons, you were a sleep deprived mess. Paranoid as ever with the door firmly locked at all times.

Something Aemond would be informed of by the maesters soon after his return.

masterlist part 2 >

The Forest Beauty | (Aemond x f!modern!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: time traveler decides to live her new life out in the kingswood, avoiding the new world she finds herself in until an encounter with a certain one-eyed prince changes her life.

Warnings: dark!themes, dark!aemond, obsessive!aemond, book!aemond, no intimacy (smut starts with part 2), intro and first part are kinda a slow burn to introduce the storyline & character

Non-Canon Storyline: 3 years post war – greens won, Aegon's only son was k*lled and only has two daughters remaining, he cannot produce more heirs, Helaena is alive but depressed,Aemond serves as prince regent ever since Aegon got injured during the war and is chronically sick and getting weaker, Aemond is to inherit the iron throne soon, Aemond k*lled Alys Rivers along with all other strongs, Aemond broke the betrothal to Floris Baratheon when he became Prince Regent and won the war (Also, I'm not a native english speaker, please be patient with me)

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< intro masterlist part 2 > (coming soon)

You wander around the woods, returning from another day of working in the city and coming closer and closer to your home when you start to feel uneasy, as if you’re not alone in the forest. You stop and listen, noticing the sound of footsteps close by. With careful steps you approach the sounds, noticing a head full of silvery hair between the trees and watching it carefully.

A man with an eyepatch, dressed in black leather clothes and carrying a long, sheathed sword on his hip. You monitor him carefully; his hands behind his back as he is gazing out into the treeline, he seems to be taking a stroll. But this deep within the forest?

You stalk him for a while, trailing his steps as you make sure to stay hidden. Too busy with staring at him you don't notice a branch on the ground, stepping on it and causing a loud *krack* sound.

The silver haired stranger turns around quickly, facing you and making eye contact. You know it's too late to hide now, as his lilac eye meets yours and a wicked smile forms on his lips

“Hello there, little one. Are you lost?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say, looking him up and down more closely now. He doesn’t look like someone that should be wandering this deep into the forest. You notice the tell-tale signs of a Targaryen. You’ve heard of them and noticed a few children with these features when you explored the street of silk once. But who exactly was this man standing in front of you right now?

His mouth twitches, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I am not lost, little lamb. Simply having a nice stroll to take my mind off the stress of ruling. May I ask who I have the pleasure of finding so deep in the woods?”

“No, you may not.” You answer, staying wary of the stranger. You’re starting to connect the emblems on his clothes and scabbard with the ones you’ve seen on royal guards patrolling the city before, this man must be one of the princes. “You should leave. These woods aren’t a place for a pretty prince like you.”

“My, my, my. So confrontational. Why the defensiveness, my beautiful little lamb? Are you hiding something?” He steps closer to you, his voice now has a hint of danger in it.

“No one wanders this part of the woods. You’re better suited closer to the city.” You say, trying to sound more polite than before, quickly understanding the prince might not appreciate the disrespect.

“Ah, yes, no one wanders this part of the woods. Well, that only makes me wonder how a pretty little lamb like you got herself as deep in here as I did. Unless, of course, you are not alone.” His eye leaves yours, scanning along the tree line before stepping closer once again.

“Relax, this is no ambush. Unless you keep on intruding on my space, then it just might.” You say sternly, hoping to play into his paranoia and get him to leave quickly.

“I do so wish I could believe you, little lamb.” His eye still scans over the tree line as his hand falls to the hilt of his sword. “How do you expect me to relax when a beautiful girl like you is all alone in the woods? You couldn’t have gotten this far without help.”

“I have. You don’t think all that dirt and tools on me are for decoration, do you?” You say, gesturing to the axe tied to your belt, knifes dangling off the bag you carry that’s strung over your chest.

“And what exactly did I catch you doing all alone in the woods, little lamb?” His voice is firm now, eye narrowing as he takes a closer look at you, trying to judge you.

You remain quiet for a few moments before deciding to answer truthfully. “I live here.”

“You live here, little lamb?” His eye scans over you once more. “YOU live in the woods?” His voice is filled with equal measures of surprise and disbelief.

“I do.” You say affirmingly. “And I’m not fond of guests.”

“A woman alone in the wild? No man to protect her? No family?” His disbelief is evident in his voice and expression. “I cannot imagine how a beautiful woman like you has endured out here.”

Upset at his words, you feel anger starting to boil deep inside of you. Women in this time are still property to be owned, another reason why you decided to live out here, away from society. “Cut the feigned sympathy. I live just fine out here.”

“But is it really living, little lamb? Living in the wild? Surely a woman of your beauty must desire the comfort and luxuries of civilization. Do you feel no desire to start a family, to have someone care for you and protect you?” His tone seems kinder now, almost caring, although his disbelief is still clear and you cannot shake the feeling of danger coming from him.

Suspicious at his invasive nature you raise an eyebrow. “What is this? A tea party to exchange gossip?”

“Oh no, little lamb. You are a most fascinating creature and you have sparked my interest. I am merely trying to find out more about who you are.”

“I’m not interested in conversation-“

“Now, now, little lamb, we’ve come this far already. It wouldn’t be very polite to turn down a crown prince like this.” His eye narrows, an obvious predatory hint in his voice as his hand tightens on the hilt of his blade. “It’s appalling for a citizen to turn down their crown prince, my dear little lamb.”

You tighten your jaw, nervous at the sudden turn this situation has taken but unwilling to comply with his orders. “I am not a citizen of yours-“

“Everyone is a citizen of mine!” His words are soothing with anger as his patience has reached its limit and he pulls the blade from its sheath. “Now come closer little lamb. I’ll help you back to the city where you belong, where it’s safe.” He begins to stalk towards you, his dark gaze fixed upon you.

You take a few steps back before you turn around and start running, using the the fact you know these woods like no other to lure him away from where your home is before skillfully outmaneuvering him in the thick forest, hiding successfully in a small cave. The silver haired man tries to follow you, you can hear him yell profanities and curse words as he struggles to keep up with you, eventually getting caught up in the thicket and falling behind. "Damn you!" Aemond shouts as he breaks free of the branches and finds himself standing in a clearing with no sign of the little Lamb in sight. Where the hell did she go? Damn this forest. Damn her.

He inelegantly shoves his sword back into its casing, taking a last long look around the scenery before begrudgingly turning around to make his way back to the city.

The rest of his day is plagued by thoughts about her, remembering every single detail about his encounter with this strange, wild little Lamb. She lives in the woods all alone, with no one to care for her? Surely, he thinks to himself, no one would truly want to do that.

She did seem awfully skilled at maneuvering the trees and avoiding my chase. Could she truly be completely alone? He wonders, staring into the lit fireplace of his chambers, his finger mindlessly tapping along the rim of the almost drained cup in his hand. His interest in the little lamb was definitely piqued. He would venture out into the woods to find her again once his duties allowed him to.

time skip / two weeks have passed

Things went back to normal after the encounter with the stranger, you didn’t see him again, but you did make sure to be extra cautious about your surroundings at all times, avoiding all travelers for the time being.

You’re sitting on a boulder in the river, only your ankles in the water as you sharpen your axe using whet stones from the river while waiting for the fish you caught this morning to finish smoking. You’re deep in thoughts as when you notice an unusual rustling of leaves behind you and catch a glimpse of the familiar silver head through the trees.

Here we go again.

The silver haired man had been stalking the Kingswood once again as he had done for several days since he encountered the strange little Lamb the first time. Searching for any hints as to where she lived, so that he could go back and speak with her again.

His hope was running low when then he finally saw her again, sitting in the river, tending to her tools. His heart skipped multiple beats, he couldn’t quite explain why he felt like this.

Still, she is the only one this far into the woods. No one around to protect her, just like when he had met her last time. This woman was a mystery he was most eager to solve. He slowly and deliberately stalked over to her, taking great care to be as sneaky and quiet as possible.

Even though you had noticed him immediately you keep focusing on your tool, pretending you hadn't noticed him as he approaches, hiding behind the last tree that provides him with cover before he would have to step out into the open.

"What is it you want?" You ask after a while, your voice loud and clear while your eyes are still focused on the task at hand. His attempts to remain hidden are more amusing than anything else.

The man was startled but quickly covers his reaction with his typical demeanor, standing proud with his hands behind his back as he steps out of the tree line and approaches the mysterious beauty carefully, as if trying not to startle her. She had quite a sharp ear. Although, he should have known better. If this little lamb had survived by herself in the woods, hearing the noises of the trees and animals was a skill she must have honed greatly.

Once he’s only a few feet away he stops abruptly, contemplating his choice of words before he speaks in a friendly yet stern manner. "You are quite perceptive little Lamb."

He remains quiet for a while. You’re still focused on your tool, not looking up, as you probe him further. "Speak. I know you've been following me for a while."

“I was simply fascinated with your lifestyle after our last encounter, that is all." He comes a few steps closer, enough to look at her properly, but not so close as to make himself a threat. "Why do you live out here, by yourself? Away from civilization and society?"

"Because I wish to do so." You say, now leaning forward to wash off the freshly sharpened axe in the river water.

"But is there no other reason little Lamb? You do not get... lonely? You do not yearn for society or friends? This forest is cold, dark, and dangerous." The mans voice seems filled with what seems like genuine concern for your welfare.

"The forests seem like that only to those who aren't welcome in them." You say, now looking up at him for the first time this conversation. "What do I get out of sharing my life story with you?"

Aemond's eyebrow quirked slightly at your words. Your words were not aggressive but they were not exactly kind or welcoming either. „You get to answer your crown prince a few questions that have been gnawing on his mind for a while. Who could say it wouldn’t be worth it?”

“I could say. The less people know about me, the better. Easier to stay hidden that way.”

Aemond stays silent after she says that, thinking over her words in his head. Stay hidden from what? From whom? What could make her feel that she must remain hidden... "Tell me, my little Lamb. Who are you hiding from?" Perhaps after finding out that one thing, he can put this obsession to rest.

"Men like you." You answer, now shifting your attention back to your tools, reaching back into the river to fetch out another whet stone to sharpen a big knife now.

"Men like me?" His eye narrows. " I am no threat to you. What could possibly have led you to believe that? You are alone so deep in the woods and I have not shown you any hostility... yet."

"No hostility?" You say laughing. "Chasing me with your sword was what then? A local friendship ritual I’m not familiar with?"

"Oh, I was simply trying to get you to stop and talk to me. That is all." He says, a small smile gracing his lips at her words. He found her laughter quite endearing.

“Didn’t work very well now, did it?”

"No I suppose not," His smile grows slightly, he finds this strange little Lamb's demeanor quite intriguing. He was never great at interacting with women, but this one seemed comfortable in his company, at least somewhat. Even if she was also incredibly untrusting and suspicious of him, or of men in general. He looks at her intently, savouring her smile as he knows his next words will wipe it right off her face again.

“I want to know more about you. I will not leave until you tell me more.” He says and as predicted, her cheeky smile gets replaced with a frown again.

“I told you, I won’t-“ he interrupts her quickly, almost pleading with her, “I know, I know. But I need to know. I cannot rest at night. I will not tell anyone about you. Whatever you tell me, it will not have any consequences, I swear it.”

You sigh deeply, pondering his words. You couldn’t care less for telling your story, the possibility of sharing too much lingering in the back of your mind. Then again, perhaps this is just what you needed. Sharing a bit of your true self with someone after having to carefully craft a fake persona and uphold it for the past two years. “Fine then. What is it you want to know?”

His eyes light up at that statement as he takes his time deciding which one of his many questions he should ask first. “Your accent, it seems out of place. Are you not from here?”

You immedily begin to regret your decision to talk to him, struggling to find a way to phrase the truth in a way it doesn’t sound too outlandish. “No, I am not. I come from a land far away, you wouldn’t know it.”

“Did you come alone?”

“Sort of. I came here with others but they… forgot me. Or maybe they are just unable to return. I wouldn’t know.”  You say, looking out into the flowing river as you remember.

“Forgot you? Why would your family just forget you?”

“They weren’t my family. They were… people I knew. We went here and they left, never to return, at least not until today. They probably told my family I died.” What had they told your family? You often wondered it. The changes of the seasons and moons made it easy for you to tell how much time had passed here, in this world. Did as much time pass back home? Was your family even informed of what truly happened or were they waiting back home for a sign of life that would never come, with no way of knowing your fate?

Aemond is quiet for a while, processing this information. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here two winters already, the coming one will be my third.”

“THAT long?” He blurts out, mind racing. “You have survived here alone all this time, out in this forest, with no family or friends? How?”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips, amused by his disbelief. “Yes, I have. I’m friendly with some of the farmers around here and some merchants. I was fortunate, really, that I was stranded here with a few tools and a bit of money.”

“That could not have been enough to make you survive here. The winters can be hard, as can be nature itself. I don’t know a single woman that would be able to survive like this even with all the tools in the world.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You shrug. This is your normal, all you knew for most of your life, you often forget just how unusual it really is. “I come from a family of farmers. We lived far out, away from civilization, and I learned a lot about nature that way. I am, or was, my parents only child. I spend many years of my childhood in the forest with my dad. He was an avid fisher and knew all the ways around the forest, while my mom taught me all about her knowledge of herbs. She was a healer of sorts.” 

Your smile returns as she recalls all her fond memories of home. Oh, how you wished you’d never left the farm. “They bred, trained, and sold horses too. I was strapped to a saddle on my own horse before I could even walk.”

His face shifts from one of shock to one of sympathy. He could tell by your words and the tone your voice takes that you missed home dearly. “And you have no way back?”

“No.” You state plainly. Do you? Truthfully, you do not know, but you surely hope you do.

“Why? If I give you coin for passage, can you go back home?”

“I’m afraid its not that easy.” You huff, struggling to make up an answer to this question. “Unless they come get me, I have no way back. I… I’m done talking about this.” You say, now shaking your head.

He wants to press further but understands he shouldn’t, not if he’d like to keep you talking. “Well then… What are you planning to do here then? You can’t just stay out here forever.”

“Why not?” You conter. “I’ve gotten comfortable out here. I know my way around the woods and can survive quite well out here. I’ve come to appreciate my little life out here quite a lot, actually.”

“Is this really life or is this survival? What about finding a family of your own, what about children?”

You sigh deeply. “I may not have answers to all those questions yet, but I do now I’m content here for now. I have no duties here, no bills to worry about. I just need to figure out my next meal and get to enjoy nature the rest of the time with all the peace and quiet it offers me.”

The change of topic strikes a chord in you, one you didn’t realise was as sensitive as it seems to be. The prospect of having to live out the rest of your days in this time is one that seemed more and more realistic and the question of what you would actually do for the next twenty, forty, sixty years of your life was one burning in the back of your mind more and more frequently.

“I’m done talking for today. You may leave now.” You dismissed the prince, frustration growing inside you.

He is not happy about this, his expression shows this as much as the tone of his voice. “Leave? I just arrived. You can’t just send me away.”

“I do not wish to tell any more stories.” You state. Just as he begins to talk again you turn to face him quickly, looking at him for a few seconds before proposing a compromise. Maybe you just needed some time to gather your thoughts and calm the inner turmoil you can feel bubbling deep inside your chest right now. “How about this: If you can find me again, I will answer you more questions. Anything you want.”

His jaw clenches as he lets out a long sigh. This is not how he wanted this conversation to end but he could tell from her expression that she seemed exhausted and the prospect of getting to ask anything he wanted seemed tempting enough to agree. “Fine then. I will seek you out again soon, but I will not rest until I have all my answers. You must swear you will not avoid me again.”

“I swear it.” You answer, a reassuring smile on your lips. “Have a safe travel back, my prince.”

She had been speaking so freely all this time that hearing her address him properly caught him off guard for a moment. He stands still in place, watching her a bit longer, before begrudgingly turning around to leave after bidding a small goodbye.

As he walks away you turn around slightly, watching the swaying of his silver hair until it disappears completely between the trees. A long, deep sigh escapes your lips as you resume your tasks for the day, thinking about all the questions he asked and what you really wanted from your life now.

You were honest, you did love your life as it was now, but sometimes the solitude did get to you as well. A craving for the love and closeness your family had brought you. As much as you cursed the prince when you had first met him, maybe having his attention on you could be a good thing after all.

He thought his mind would be calmed after speaking to her but to his dismay, the opposite had happened. His head is filled with questions still and worse so, genuine worry about her wellbeing. Yes, his little lamb had survived well by herself, but the confirmation that she was truly alone out there was deeply unsettling to him. When he is laying in bed that night, he realised just how little he knew about her. He didn’t know where she lived – did she have a house or did she sleep under the stars? He had never even asked her name. What would it be? If she is from far away, it surely was exotic.

He keeps tossing and turning that night, the picture of her smiling face filling his mind, even more so when he closes his eye, as if he can see even clearer when the world isn’t distracting him. He tries to sleep but he swears he hears her laugh, still as clear and comforting as it had been when he heard it the first time. A sound so sweet it could lull him to sleep, if only there wasn’t the gaping emptiness next to him, reminding him of your absence, of the fact you’re all alone out there. If something happened to you tonight, would he ever find out? He could not bear the thought of it.

His night stays restless. He falls asleep again and again, dreaming vividly about the way your cheeks rounded when you smiled at him, about the freckles on your nose, the small dimples that appeared under your cheeks when you smiled and over your lips when you pursed your lips in dismay at another thing he said.

It was improper, he knew that much. For a prince, the heir to the throne, to be so enchanted by a forest dweller. Nevertheless, his heart skipped a beat every time he had laid his eyes on her. His mind went back to think about all your interactions at every chance it got, even in the midst of important meetings. He was a devoted and proper man; he knew better and yet, something about her felt so fundamentally right that a future without her seemed wrong.

When the first rays of sunshine broke though his windows he had made his decision. He would go to see her again and this time, he would not leave her behind. He could not. He will find her and bring her – well, where? Somewhere, anywhere he knows she is safe, where he knows he can find her whenever he wants to see her. He will figure it all out, he will find a way to make this work.

His feet soon carry him through the castle, unaware of where he is going until he finds himself in front of two wooden doors. The kings, his brothers, chambers.

Currently editing the next part, that one will be 18+! Second series about Aemond x reader coming soon as well (currently proof reading chapter one)!

The Forest Beauty | (Aemond x f!modern!reader) (intro/?)

Summary: time traveler decides to live her new life out in the kingswood, avoiding the new world she finds herself in until an encounter with a certain one-eyed prince changes her life.

Warnings: dark!themes, dark!aemond, obsessive!aemond, book!aemond, no intimacy (smut starts with part 2), intro and first part are kinda a slow burn to introduce the storyline & character Non-Canon Storyline: 3 years post war – greens won, Aegon's only son was k*lled and only has two daughters remaining, he cannot produce more heirs, Helaena is alive but depressed, Aemond serves as prince regent ever since Aegon got injured during the war and is chronically sick and getting weaker, Aemond is to inherit the iron throne soon, Aemond k*lled Alys Rivers along with all other strongs, Aemond broke the betrothal to Floris Baratheon when he became Prince Regent and won the war (Also, I'm not a native english speaker, please be patient with me)

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

masterlist part 1 >

It was another ordinary day in your life, your small and peaceful life that you had built yourself after you were thrown back into this ancient time. Luckily you grew up on a farm, homeschooled and away from cities.

All the skills you learned there and your fathers passion for bushcraft and fishing, that he started to force onto you teach you passionately at the tender age of six, being the thing that kept you alive and safe, allowing you to live freely and without fear, deep inside this thick and abandoned forest.

Throwback:

You arrived here two years ago. Before that, you lived a happy and content life on your parents’ farm, being homeschooled and focusing your home study on biology and philosophy, as these were your passions, apart from nature and animals.

You worked with horses – having grown up with your own and having learned traditional practices of horsemanship and hoofcare from your mother, who also taught you a lot about herbalism. You earned money this way, training horses for other people until one day, your own died of old age. It left a big hole in your heart, an emptiness that none other could fill. In your grief, you lost your passion. You could no longer enjoy the work with horses, every time you looked at one the fresh wound in your heart would bleed again, dulling all your senses.

That’s when you decided to leave the farm and venture into the big city of Kings landing, attending college there to study anthropology and philosophy. You felt out of place, the stuffiness of the city air plaguing your nose everyday on your commune, the loudness of the city drowning out all thoughts you had. Luckily, you did enjoy the studies, spending most of you time in the massive library filled with more knowledge than any human could ever obtain in a single lifetime.

But without your work, you soon needed to find a way to provide for yourself. That’s when a rumor spread through the school about an open position in the physics department. What at first seemed like easy money would soon be the worst mistake of your life, or so you thought. Looking back, you should have become suspicious when, instead of having you sit in the machine in your everyday clothing like always, they would start to put you in linen clothing and have you hold a bag with unknown contents. You didn’t worry though – This is all a gimmick, you were convinced. Nothing but the unrealistic dreams of some nutcases that had too much money at their hands. Fine by me, you thought. You could comfortably pay all your bills and even have some extra cash left over. It was a day like any other, months of studying, sitting in a weird machine and going home afterwards – although this time, you didn’t. Everything turned dark and when you woke up, you found yourself laying inside a forest. Panicking you look around. It didn’t take long for you to realise what happened, it actually worked. You check the bag, some water, food, two knifes, some rope, some other bits and ends – and a few coins, hopefully accurate recreations of todays currency, you think. You get up and walk, walk and walk until you find a way to a close by city.

Kings Landing, you recognise a few landmarks, mainly the castle that towers over the entire city. You had toured it when you first arrived in Kings Landing, back in your time, of course.

You roam the streets for a while, just people watching as you try and figure out how the people of this time function and how much your coins are worth, what you can actually afford with this. Disappointed, you realise it wasn’t much after all. A few weeks of food, but only if you didn’t have to pay for accommodation. With it, a few days, perhaps a week at most. This won’t work, you recognize quickly. And how would they find me if they come looking?

Staring out into the the busy streets of the market you notice a carriage next to a store, the fabric covering the loading bed pulled back and revealing a few tools. An axe, a pickaxe, a small shovel and more. You remember all the times you build bushcraft shelters with your dad, an axe being the only thing you are missing to be able to do so now. You’re not proud of it but you look around, making sure no one is watching and quickly take a few tools, hiding them between your cloak and dress as you hurry away, making sure no one saw what you just did.

You return into the forest, kingswood its called, venturing off beaten paths and building yourself a small shelter in the general area where you woke up in. I hope they come get me soon, you think to yourself as you sit in front of a small campfire that evening, eating some of the food you found in the bag.

But they don’t. No one comes. You wait days, then weeks, then months. The daunting realization of being stranded here alone made you sad at first but your survival instinct soon took over.

You found your way around this forest fairly quickly, locating a better place to live far deeper into the forest. A big river isn’t too far away and the thick growth shows that no one ever comes here. A perfect place to hide from unwanted visitors.

You build another shelter, a small shelter dug into the ground, the walls, roof and ground made of slim trees and branches you cut, a small firepit that you made with stones and clay you made by mixing the river water and dirt. You covered the top of your shelter with leaves and moss. Its hidden away nicely, no one would notice your little home even if anyone were to stray so deep into the forest. You cannot stand in it, only crouch and sit up, but its best this way. I need to stay safe at all costs.

And this becomes your life. You learn to adapt, using all your knowledge and skills to make sure you’re safe and always fed. You do venture into the city or out into the countryside every now and then, making friends with a few farmers and learning how to trade your skills and knowledge with horses and herbs for money or goods. Buidling a smoker out of pine tree branches and wood you can smoke the fish you catch and also smoke bellpeppers that you then dry and turn into spices and sell to other merchands, earning you a small, yet reliable income.

The winters are cold, but your small shelter heats up well and with the money you make during the summer you can afford warm clothes and food when you are unable to catch or grow it yourself.

And so you live this life, a quiet and peaceful life. You're content but you would be lieing if you said you weren't wandering the forest mindlessly from time to time, looking around for anyone that might be coming for you. Will I live like this until the end of my life? You wonder often, trying to invision what your future will hold.

Throwback ends

You wander around the woods, returning from another day of working in the city and coming closer and closer to your home when you start to feel uneasy, as if you’re not alone in the forest. You stop and listen, noticing the sound of footsteps close by. With careful steps you approach the sounds, noticing a head full of silvery hair between the trees and watching it carefully.

A man with an eyepatch, dressed in black leather clothes and carrying a long, sheathed sword on his hip. You monitor him carefully; his hands behind his back as he is gazing out into the treeline, he seems to be taking a stroll. But this deep within the forest?

You stalk him for a while, trailing his steps as you make sure to stay hidden. Too busy with staring at him you don't notice a branch on the ground, stepping on it and causing a loud *krack* sound.

The silver haired stranger turns around quickly, facing you and making eye contact. You know it's too late to hide now, as his lilac eye meets yours and a wicked smile forms on his lips

“Hello there, little one. Are you lost?”