Absolutely Obsessed With Throw Me To The Wolves! Is It An Ongoing Fic?

Absolutely obsessed with throw me to the wolves! Is it an ongoing fic?

Hello! Thank you so much! It is ongoing, updates have just slowed a bit because I started a new job :)

Thank you sm!!! I'm really looking forward to delving into their past and the old wounds there.

Also glad you liked that bit with daemon! I giggled when I wrote it so I'm happy others enjoyed it :)

Abandon All Hope - Prologue

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary:

A dream has King Viserys making an olive branch of his granddaughter and son in a bid to bind together the two hales of his family, torn asunder by love, whispered lies, and daggers in the night. But dreams are fickle things. One missed step in a dance, and a new path to madness enters the game.

Her mother once said she named her for the dreamer, out of a hope that she'd bring a new dawn upon their house just as their ancestor did so many years ago. Daenys the Dreamer, who dreamt the Doom of Valyria and led House Targaryen across the narrow sea to spare them.

Daenys does not dream of things yet to pass, and she rather thinks herself destined for her own doom. Her Uncle Aemond will make certain of that.

Rating: M, minors I will throw rocks at you if I find out you read this

Word Count: 3.6k

If one were to ask Daenys who amongst the men in her life she loved the most, she might have answered her eldest brother Jacaerys. For he was a man by all the laws of the realm, and had always chased away her tears and kissed her scraped knees. She might even answer that her grandfather, Lord Corlys Velaryon, was the man she loved most. He was always gentle with her and delighted in showing her the treasures he’d collected from his many voyages, and he always had time for her when others didn’t. 

Above all Daenys might have answered that her father, Laenor Velaryon, was the man she loved the best. Her father and his laughing eyes, his gentle hands and bone-crushing hugs; he always told her he loved her best out of all of his daughters, and though Daenys was his only daughter, she clung to his words all the same. Her father always stuck up for her in the face of her brother’s teasing, and he always drove away her nightmares with soft songs or old legends of the sea, passed down from Velaryon to Velaryon.

Even now, she fiddled with the necklace her father gave her on her tenth name-day. She wore it more oft than not, even when it didn’t match the dress she wore. It was, at the time, the finest of all the jewelry she owned, and it was the first necklace that made her feel like a proper lady. A necklace for a woman, not a child. It was a delicate thing of silver, with five, sparkling, aquamarine gemstones that reminded Daenys of the sea. 

“Silver and aquamarine,” her father had said when he gave it to her. “So you might never forget our house. Or me.” She’d thought her father silly to say such a thing, to think she could ever forget that she was a Velaryon or that he was her father. Daenys was proud to be a Velaryon, and she was proud to call Laenor Velaryon her father. 

But Daenys could not answer that her father, Laenor Velaryon, was the one she loved best out of all the men in her life. For her father was dead and had been for almost a year now. And she couldn’t answer her brother Jacaerys, as he was barely two years older than her, and if Jacaerys was a man then she must certainly be a woman, and Daenys did not feel like a woman grown. Nor could she answer that her grandfather Corlys was the one she loved best, because he’d left them all to go fight in the Stepstones once more. 

She most certainly could not answer that her other grandfather, King Viserys, was the man she loved most. He had decided to be the king instead of her grandfather, and Daenys did not love the king.

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Abandon All Hope - Chapter 3 (Alone and Forsaken)

Previous chapter

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Canon typical. Description of canon injuries (Aemond). See tags on AO3 for more.

The Queen’s chambers were as they always had been, though Aemond had expected nothing different. His mother’s chambers hadn’t changed for as long as he could remember. There was her grand bed to one side, where he’d often run to for comfort as a boy. The two couches with a table in between, where Helaena often sat when she brought the twins to visit his mother. The green draperies around her windows, the seven-pointed star ornaments and statues of the Seven scattered about the room, the neat stacks of papers and missives at her desk, all of it was familiar and as it ever was. 

Even the large, round table that servants had brought into his mother’s rooms was not entirely out of place. It was a common addition on the occasions that his mother requested they join her for a meal when she wished for more privacy than even the smaller dining halls of the Red Keep could offer. Yet despite the unchanging landscape of his mother’s rooms, shadows danced at the edges of his blind spot, growing larger and bolder at the threat of what the day would bring. 

Aemond absentmindedly adjusted the leather strap of his eyepatch as he took a seat across from Helaena and his younger brother, Daeron. To Helaena’s left sat his mother, and across from her, an empty seat where Aegon ought to have been. It appeared his mother hadn’t the patience to drag her eldest son from his bed that morn. If he even made it back to his chambers last night. If he hadn’t joined them by then, Aegon wouldn’t be joining at all.

It was no matter. His youngest brother Daeron made for far better company than Aegon. He’d arrived just the day before from Oldtown, and the last Aemond had seen of Daeron he’d been awkward and gangly, having just turned ten-and-two. Now, his younger brother was nearly of a height with Aemond, muscled from his time squiring for Lord Ormund and tanned from time spent in the sun. His hair, silver like the rest of his siblings, brushed his shoulders, and he had a small scar above his brow. 

Curious, Aemond had asked Daeron about the scar after their evening meal the previous night. “One of the older squires hit me with his blunted sword not even a moon after I arrived,” Daeron had explained. It sat above his left brow, and it escaped neither of them that the scar was on the same side of his face as Aemond’s. He’d seen his younger brother regarding the leather patch as he spoke, and Aemond had made himself scarce before Daeron could open his mouth to say anything.

As Aemond took his seat, Daeron paused briefly to greet him before continuing with his conversation. “Lord Ormund says I might be knighted before the year is out. There’s hardly anyone who can best me. Even Lord Ormund struggles at times.” He didn’t bother to swallow his mouthful of food before speaking, and their mother eyed him with thinly veiled disgust. 

“I do hope my cousin will remember to teach you manners,” their mother chided. Daeron muttered an apology and sheepishly wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and Aemond’s lips twitched in amusement.

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“The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.”

chapter done! sleeping on it before I edit, but it should be up tomorrow (this is a threat) :)

almost done with red wedding 2.0. absolutely terrified to post this lmao