I Present To You The Best Piece Of Media I've Consumed All Week

i present to you the best piece of media i've consumed all week

Take a Seat

Summary: You tell Aemond you can´t stand him. He invites you to take a seat.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Aemond is a tease. Aemond's nose is amazing. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV.

Word count: 1.3k

“Aemond!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedchambers.

The young prince reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“Aemond!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction rippled along his entire body as anticipation gradually built up.

“Where are my clothes?” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathing room. “Your sister awaits me! I will be late.”

Truth be told, Aemond dreaded having to part ways with you this early in the morning. Selfishness might be an overstatement.

He preferred to see it as a need.

The need to have you around and all to himself.

To consume all of you.

So, he decided to hide your clothes and bath towel while you were readying yourself for another day at court.

Quite a dull a fair, in his opinion.

He could deliver so much more to you than a day of walking around behind his sister and tending to her needs.

What about his needs?

And yours?

His antics proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favour in the end.

The dragon always comes out victorious.

As soon as your burst into the room, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Aemond felt a rush of blood flooding downwards in a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I will be late!”

Aemond merely shrugged, grateful that his ever growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one hand, his reflexes sharp as ever.

“You are so… infuriating!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin had become one of his favourite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were probably going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish,” he started. “There’s this pain….”

And just as he had predicted, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Where does it hurt?”

Aemond lifted the bedsheets, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

You immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had your leg swing over his body with such refined skill you were left sitting on his bare torso at lightning speed.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Aemond! I’m going to be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only served to further ignite his desire for you.

“Your sister awaits me near the gates of King’s Landing,” you huffed in annoyance. “We are going for a walk today.”

“I’ll fly you there on Vhagar if I have to,” he said casually, rubbing both thumbs along your pulse points. “I am sure my sister can do without you for a while, my lady.”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he wasn’t willing to let go of you just yet.

“I cannot stand you!” you growled menacingly.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to have him crawl for you.

You were aware of your hold on him. If you really wanted to, you’d be able to bend him to your will.

He’d do everything and anything for you.

“Say that again.”

Your eyed narrowed with renowned defiance. “I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.”

Your eyes then widened in surprise. “What?”

Aemond wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he decided against it. He wanted to make sure you were fully committed to him.

“Let me taste you,” he insisted, his cock throbbing lightly.

You faltered briefly as you clenched your thighs around him. “You’re so…”

“So what, my lady?”

Aemond then let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Infuriating.”

“I’ll take that as compliment,” he said and with one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I… I am going to be late…”

Aemond was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid his pillow to the side so that he could be the perfect seat for you. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

Aemond wouldn’t mind parting ways with life with the sight of your inviting pussy as his last memory.

What a glorious way to go.

He nearly letting out a groan and a sigh of relief rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him.

Instinctively, he brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside you.

Delicious.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking endearing. The fact that you were still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few strokes of his skillful tongue did wonders to his ego.

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he had no intention of doing so.

Aemond was well aware of how to increase the pleasure he delivered to you.

He knew you would quiver from feeling his nose pressing into your swollen clit.

The moment he did so, his hands had to grip your thighs harder to keep you in place from all the shuddering.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to feel the pulse from your throbbing clit on his nose.

Truthfully, he simply could never get tired of how your body responded to him so eagerly.

His hips to shot up reflexively as his cock twitched from the need to be buried inside you.

“Aemond… not … not the—”

Your words faded and turned into a pleasurable moan as soon as his tongue went deeper, forcing his nose to press into you harder than before.

Aemond was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart and the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your whimpers. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the sheet on top, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever growing.

But he had would have you reach your peak on his face rather than his around his cock.

The way his nose rubbed your clit caused your hips to buck and jerk from the stimulation, forcing his other hand to increase his grip even more on you to keep you in place as you were riding his face.

“Oh… oh… Aemond…”

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking and needy cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Aemond… my prince… please…”

Aemond had no need of your words of approval or praise or bliss. He could feel your pleasure and that was all he needed.

Showing was far more saturated than telling.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too close.

Almost embarrassingly so.

He was aware that pumping his own cock drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver erratically as he ran his tongue along the sensitive clit.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, shaking violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… so good…” you cried out too lost in your own pleasure as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs begin spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch as he brought his nose to tease your swollen bud, tongue still lodged between your soaked folds.

And that was precisely what pushed him over the edge.

The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely and Aemond reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls.

No words in High Valyrian or any other tongue could do justice to the intense pleasure that took over him.

A few strands of hot liquid ran down his fingers, but he paid no mind to the mess. His own heart pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a guttural growl ripped through his throat through gritted teeth.

You slid off to the side, allowing his deep groans to echo around the bedchamber.

Aemond’d endurance was something he took pride in, but a powerful release was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw and nose with a few drops running down his face.

“I still cannot stand you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking his eye with your hazy ones. “Are you challenging me to bring you to your peak once more?”

“I am already late,” you protested, struggling to slide out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your strained leg muscles.

Aemond couldn’t help but to chuckle as you tried your best to keep your balance.

“I will carry you to Vhagar and fly you there,” he offered. “I doubt you’ll be able to walk regardless.”

It was in moments like these that Aemond was thankful to his fast reflexes as his hand prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.

Wine

Summary: You have too much to drink with Aegon and Aemond is left to deal with the aftermath.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Attentive Aemond. Alcohol.

A/N: My first try at some comic relief (hopefully)! I want to thank @aemonds-war-crime for inspiring me to write this! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1k

“Let me go fetch a few dresses and we’ll get right to it!”

Aegon grunted, taking yet another sip of his cup. “No! I will not wear a dress.”

“But you’d look so pretty,” you cooed, slumping against the wooden table in utmost despair. “A blue one would go well with your eyes!”

That caused Aegon to shoot from his seat to join your side. “You think?”

You clapped enthusiastically, forgetting the cup in your hand and spilling wine over both of you.

“Oops!”

Aegon gasped dramatically before bursting into laughter with you.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

You turned in your seat and blinked up at Aemond, surprised to see him there all of a sudden and out of nowhere.

It was clear your senses weren’t as tuned as you’d hoped and the young prince could avoid being noticed if necessary.

Aegon made a snorting sound and rolled his eyes. “Ugh… here comes Prince I-must-not-have-fun…”

A rush of boldness and you bolted into lover’s embrace.

“Aemond!” you giggled, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve convinced Aegon to try a few dresses.”

He stiffened lightly under your touch. “Charming.”

“I think he’ll love it,” you whispered dramatically into his ear.

Aegon slamed the golden cup on the wooden surface. “Aemond must join in, then.”

“Yes!” you beamed, bouncing on your feet with excitement.

Until the room pitched to the left and Aemond had to grab you with both hands to keep you from toppling over to the side.

“You would look lovely in a rose pink dress, little brother,” Aegon grinned.

Aemond shot him a murderous glare.

“No, really,” he continued his teasing in between sips. “I’d give up my birthright to witness that.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a menacing smile. “You can say that again, brother,” his tone deceptively light and nonchalant.

“Can I?” Aegon laughed, raising his cup to him.

You merely clapped your hands in pure delight. “I adore you both!” You said, turning to take a seat, but halted midway as Aemond gripped you waist.

“Time to go to your bedchamber,” he said, removing the empty cup from your hand.

“Oh!” you wiggled your eyebrows. “Are we going to… you know—”

Aemond immediately interrupted you. “I’m sure Aegon doesn’t need to hear this.”

“But I need to know!” you demanded. “I may need some help getting undressed.”

Aemond’s face went livid.

“By all means, carry on,” he taunted, emptying his cup. “Pretend I’m not here.”

Aemond clicked his tongue. “Of course,” he huffed in annoyance before turning to you. “Say goodbye to Aegon.”

You lifted your hand to wave as a pout turned your lips. “Goodbye, Aegon.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he said out loud with a smile, refilling his cup.

You allowed Aemond to guide you silently along the stairs and halls of the Red Keep.

“Aegon can be so much fun,” you whispered, leaning against his shoulder and looping your arm through his.

“You shouldn’t have been drinking with him,” he said, catching you as you tripped over thin air for the third time. “His stomach is bottomless.”

“But he’s fun,” you said with a hiccup before freezing as you took a turn to the left. “Why is the corridor spinning, Aemond?”

Your balance was so off that it was a surprise you hadn’t met the floor already.

Or maybe it had something to do with the handsome young prince who refused to leave your side.

“Just keep walking,” he said. “I’ll help.”

You accepted his offer and proceeded to stride valiantly through the wobbly hall ahead.

“Do you think he’d wear a dress?”

“What?”

“Aegon wearing a dress, Aemond,” you said impatiently, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Keep up!”

“Hmm.”

You sighed. “I really think he’d look adorable.”

Aemond disentangled your arm from his to place one hand on your shoulder. “How much did have to drink?”

You pondered briefly. At least as much as your brain would allow.

“Two cups…” you said. “… maybe three.”

Aemond was not particularly fond of his brother’s drinking habits, especially when they were extended to you.

His eye was fixed on your face. “Next time I’ll be there.”

Bur you were not paying attention to him anymore.

You narrowed your eyes, wondering why there were suddenly two Aemonds in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” Both of them asked in unison.

“Ugh…” you drawled, reaching out with your arm to one of them, only to grab nothing but air. “… why are there two of you?”

“What?”

You rubbed your eyes rapidly and blinked.

Only one Aemond Targaryen stood before you, looking perplexed as he gripped both your shoulders.

“Let me carry you.”

You flinched away from his touch, stomping your foot. “Absolutely not! I am perfectly capable of carrying myself into my bedchambers, kind ser.”

Every single time you stumbled, he would just correct you as his hand hovered your elbow.

Aemond clicked his tongue, pacing closely behind you. “You nearly walked off the balcony. Twice.”

“Nonsense. Blasphemy,” you muttered as he steered you in the right direction. “Very serious accusation.”

You then inhaled deeply, trying to settle the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Let me carry you before you hurt yourself,” you heard his voice behind you.

Instead, you strode rapidly, almost colliding with the wall to your right had it not been for Aemond’s quick reflexes.

“Alright. That’s enough,” he said, hoisting you effortlessly with his arms and bringing you close to his chest.

Your stomach violently lurched. “Put me down. I think I’m going to be sick…”

For the first time that night you heard a chuckle from him. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wrapped your arms around him for support, feeling you head spin dangerously fast, but still managing to find some comfort in his embrace.

“Your hair is so beautiful…” you whispered giddily.

“Hmm.”

“Let me braid it…” you offered.

Aemond remained silent as he carried you across the poorly lit corridor.

“Let me add some adorable velvety ribbons.”

No reply.

“Please?”

Nothing.

“Come on! Please,” you whined into his ear, tightening the grip around him. “Please… please. I’ll give you a kiss.”

This time Aemond chuckled. “A kiss?”

“Yes!” you smiled enthusiastically. “Many kisses.”

“We have an arrangement, then.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he was smiling.

Of Flowers & Dragons

Summary: Your daughter wants a sibling and makes it everyone’s problem.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dad Aemond. “Where do babies come from?” shenanigans.

Word count: 1k

“I want a sibling!”

The high-pitched voice echoed across the room, quickly followed by a shriek that reverberated through your head like a dagger, jolting you awake at once.

You peered down through hazy eyes at your daughter of six who was stomping angrily across the carpeted floor, strands of silver hair shooting from her head in all sorts of weird and messy angles.

“I apologise, my lady,” the young servant breathed out, rushing behind the young child. “She would not heed my words.”

“It’s quite alright,” you said with a nod. “You may leave.”

She was a dragon through and through: hot tempered and demanding.

It had taken her father long years to keep that explosiveness at bay and you reckoned you would still encounter many of these outbursts before she’d finally settle.

She halted by the feet of your bed, mustering the most menacing expression, violet eyes alternating between you and her sleeping father.

“Jaelan ziry sir, kepa!”

Even in your broken High Valyrian you could make out a demand aimed at her father.

She didn’t just want a sibling. She wanted it now.

The bedsheets shifting beside you alerted you that Aemond Targaryen was finally awake.

“Do not scream,” you scolded before a yawn slipped past your lips. “Come here.”

Your daughter didn’t need to be told twice as she promptly climbed up the bed and crawled in between the two of you before plopping herself down with a huff.

Aemond rolled to his side with the groan of someone who had just been robbed of the peace and quiet that usually came with early mornings.

“Could this not have waited, tala?” he said.

“Daor,” she shook her head, sticking out her bottom lip in a defiant pout, crossing both arms. “I want a sibling now.”

Aemond turned his head to face her, his sapphire eye uncovered. “It would have to wait.”

She brought both hands to his long hair and twisted a few strands into unruly braids, not able to conceal her frustration.

“A day?”

You nearly chuckled at her remark. “A day? It would take many moons, my love.”

“But kepa said I came from Old Valyria… on dragonback…” she whispered, turning her eyes to meet yours. “Dragons are fast… maybe two days?” she beamed, hope coating her sweet voice.

You sighed heavily. “Aemond…”

“She caught me off guard, lady wife,” he said truthfully while gazing at his daughter. “What was I to say?”

“Now you have the opportunity to resolve this,” you smiled teasingly as his eye widened.

“What is it?” she spoke up before Aemond could. “When do I get a new sibling, kepa?”

Aemond was a master at concealing his emotions, but even in that moment, his composure faltered, as he realised his young and stubborn daughter would not back down.

Heaving a deep sigh, he detached her tiny hands from his hair and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him in a heartwarming display of affection.

“Remember those flowers you adore so much, byka zaldrīzes?” he lowered his voice as he spoke into her hear. “The one that uncle Daeron brought from Oldtown?”

Your heart fluttered in delight. Aemond calling her little dragon would never not make you emotional. Witnessing the young prince embracing the bond with his daughter was a privilege few could claim.

Her lilac eyes narrowed as she pondered for a moment. “Hmm. Yes! Moonbloom,” she nodded with a proud smile.

“Moonbloom, yes,” Aemond said, bringing one finger to brush away strands of silver hair that covered her face. “He brought a few seeds that we later placed in several vases.”

She nodded eagerly, eyes never tearing away from him.

“And what happened to those seeds?”

She wiggled her legs in anticipation, visibly enjoying the enticing questions from her father that read as a game just between the two of them.

“We got a few tiny plants!” she beamed, giggling and jerking her body as Aemond tickled her.

“And then…”

She froze in place, gasping dramatically. “… then… we got flowers!”

Aemond chuckled. “Sȳrje. Very well,” he praised as he planted a soft kiss to her forehead. “That is how you came to be.”

Scrunching her nose, she narrowed her inquisitive eyes. “I came from a… vase of flowers?”

You were a mere spectator, enjoying how Aemond handled such delicate matter, not able to hold back the wide grin on your face.

“Daor. I planted a seed inside your mother,” he said as he brought his hand to your stomach. “Here.”

Your daughter turned her head, eyes landing where his hand lay. “How did I get there?”

Aemond cleared his throat, staring at you in a silent plea.

“You are handling this perfectly, lord husband,” you said, placing your fingers atop his with a smile.

“So mother is a vase of flowers?” she inquired, confusion washing over her face.

Aemond’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You could say so.”

Her eyes widened incredulously as she brought her own tiny hand to your belly in sheer fascination.

“I’m a flower?”

The endearing conclusion she had drawn, had your heart clench.

“Iksā iā rūklon,” Aemond said with a nod. “Se iā zaldrīzes.”

“Woah!” she gasped in uncontrolled excitement, shooting her eyes to yours. “I’m a flower and a dragon, muña!”

You gave her the warmest smile. “The most delicate flower and the fiercest dragon.”

She got on her knees, bouncing on the bed with newfound enthusiasm.

“When are you planting another flower in mother?” she grinned expectantly at Aemond who groaned and sank into his pillow.

I'm bad with words, i hope you're good in reading eyes.

Source: Art is ours

Dragon's Fury

Summary: Your daughter gets into trouble for defending her father.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Dad Aemond. Protective dad Aemond (now we know who his daughter takes after).

A/N: If you’ve read Of Flowers & Dragons and Moonbloom, you will be familiar with this. But you can also read it as a stand-alone.

Word count: 1k

“Kepa…. ke-pa.”

Lifting your eyes from the book, you felt a warm smile grown on your face as you watched Aemond Targaryen sitting on a chair with his babbling son of one.

The small babe sat on his lap, tiny hands reaching out to grasp the dragon pins that adorned his leather coat, clearly not interested in repeating after his father.

“You should practice with the word for mother,” you said teasingly. “It’d be much faster.”

Aemond’s eye met yours as he propped the babe on his feet so he could stand on his lap. “That one he already utters perfectly,” he said, pointing his finger at you.

Your son turned his wobbly head in your direction, smiling widely and revealing two tiny lower front teeth . “Mu…ña! Muña!” he then broke into a giggle.

“My dragon,” you cooed at him from a distance, allowing your heart to melt into a puddle. “You do love mother the most, don’t you?”

Aemond arched an eyebrow as the babe in his arms bounced happily. “Playing favourites, are we?”

“You already have our daughter’s undivided devotion,” you said with a chuckle. “Let me have my dragon, too.”

“I thought I was your dragon,” he said, narrowing his eye ever so slightly.

The smile on your face grew wider at his antics, but the moment was cut short as grunts and screams were heard outside.

Aemond immediately rose to his feet, lifting his son up against his chest, tension heavy on his face.

The unmistakable voice of your daughter had your heart speed up.

The door to your bedchamber was violently pushed open, as Ser Criston Cole walked in, carrying the young child of seven tightly under one arm. A smaller version of Aemond’s eyepatch covered her left eye, rendering her a smaller copy of her father.

“Let go of me!” she snarled, wriggling under his grip before letting out a string of profanities in High Valyrian.

You immediately glaced at Aemond. “Who… taught her those?”

His jaw tightened. “Aegon, no doubt.”

The babe in his arms was staring at the commotion with utmost curiosity, closing one fist around some of his father’s long silver strands of hair and dragging them to his mouth.

Aemond didn’t seem to take notice as Cole finally dropped his daughter on her feet. “What is the meaning of this?”

Queen Alicent appeared from behind them in an emerald green dress, eyes fixed on her granddaughter. “You will explain what happened.”

“Mother,” Aemond greeted.

You followed suit with a bow. “Your grace.”

At this point, your daughter had crossed both arms firmly over her chest, snapping her head to the side to avoid the multiple sets of eyes on her.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent nodded before pursing her lips.

“She was sparring with a Lannister lordling in the courtyard,” he began. “I turned my back for a moment and next thing I knew she was on top of him swinging fists at the boy.”

You widened your eyes in sheer horror. “Why would you do that?”

She remained silent and unmoving.

“Such actions are unbecoming of a young princess,” the queen spoken harshly, but her voice void of any anger. “This is not how we raised you.”

“He deserved it,” she muttered under her breath.

“Did he hurt you?” Aemond asked, removing his son’s grip from his hair before sliding him into your arms.

There was a certain tension in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by his mother whose dark eyes flickered briefly as she gazed upon him.

He slowly dropped to one knee in front of his child, gripping her arms with that tenderness you had grown to love.

“Did he hurt you?” he repeated his words through gritted teeth.

She shook her head, still refusing to turn to face him.

“Look at me.”

Nothing.

He brought one hand to caress her cheek, just below the eyepatch, which earned a reaction from her as you heard a faint sob.

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke.”

She dropped both arms and turned her head to him, watering eyes meeting his, as a single tear streamed down her cheek which Aemond promptly rubbed away with his thumb.

Her lips were quivering. “He mocked me for wearing the eyepatch.”

Aemond clenched his jaw.

Your heart felt as if you had pins and niddles being pushed through your skin. Her shaky voice had the grip on your son tighten, realising just how vulnerable they could be.

“He… he said it was foolish and—” her voice faltered into silence and lowered her head.

Aemond gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “And what?”

“He mocked you, kepa…”

Alicent heaved a deep sigh and even Ser Criston couldn’t remain indifferent.

“Look at me,” Aemond said one more time, placing one finger under her chin until her eyes were on his. “Dragons do not concern themselves with the words of sheep.”

“But—”

“I will handle this,” he hushed her before turning to Ser Criston. “Cole, see to it that Lord and Lady Lannister are escorted out of King’s Landing at once along with their son.”

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard shifted his eyes to the queen instead.

“Aemond, that is—” Alicent started but had her son interrupt her immediately.

“Mother, I will not have my daughter be ridiculed by our guests,” he snarled and your could nearly feel the fire that coursed through his blood. “They may come for me, but never for my daughter. Ever.”

The babe in your arms whimpered faintly, hiding his face in your neck, probably able to feel the ever-growing tension around him. You rocked him lightly and planted a kiss to his head.

“Aemond, I am certain we can approach this differently,” his mother tried to reason with him once again.

“You once showed me how willing you were to have those who hurt me pay for what they did, mother,” he said, bringing his daughter to his chest. “I will have them leave King’s Landing on their own accord… or mine.”

The beautiful queen’s eyes quivered and you knew his words had cut deep and revived a painful memory within her.

He had lost an eye and justice was not seen that day from his father. Or any day that followed.

An eye for an eye.

Those who ever dared crossing Aemond Targaryen could only be advised to tread lightly or be met with the wrath of a dragon.

You felt tears pool in the corners of your eyes as your daughter laced her hands around his neck before he moved to stand up straight.

“I can assure you, mother. You would not like it if they were to leave on my accord.”

Outside, the thundering wail of a dragon cracked the skies of the city, shaking it to its very foundations.

Vhagar’s angry roar matched Aemond’s heart.

<3

2x13 || 3x10 || 3x13