Garden Of Secrets [6] - Hibiscus

Garden of Secrets [6] - Hibiscus

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback and support my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Whispers are made for midnights.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of possibility of physical abuse, past trauma and violence.

Word Count: 5600

Series Masterlist

No matter what anyone else thought or assumed, you weren’t jealous.

That would have been ridiculous. Getting jealous of someone like him, someone who was the complete opposite of you with his silly fixation of love was out of question, so at best you were merely annoyed by this whole…

Charade.

That was what it was. It was an absolute charade, and you still found it hard to believe that you were somehow caught in the middle of it.

Continuar lendo

Connected Masterpost

Young Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff reader. A completed series about their complicated relationship and why they connect with each other on a different level. I tried to stay true to Tom’s character, so it turned out pretty angsty and dark. Contains fluff, physical threats and disturbing themes therefore rated A (Content suitable only for adults ages 18 and up.)

Part 1 - Year 6 Part 2 - Stalker Part 3 - The Mission Part 4 - Human Transfiguration Part 5 - Christmas Break Part 6 - Horcruxes

Show Them

Tamlin x Reader. If you don’t like it, don’t read it :) I feel like after all of the events of books 2-5, he’s learned how and why he was wrong, and he’s been kicked a lot while he was down. It’s about time for him to redeem himself and find love too ok?? So here is my rendition of the start of his redemption arc. 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, trauma

Word Count: 8.7K

You huffed a sigh, wiping your hands at the hem of your thin dress, ridding yourself of the flecks of mud and dry blood. With a squint, you picked at your palm, trying to pull the thick wooden splinter from your skin. Fourth one in an hour, you rolled your eyes to yourself, glaring at the pile of wood and debris - what previously held the roof over your head. 

You eyed the deep scratches embossed in the wood, the ones that no doubt belonged to the Naga that roamed the nearby forest. They’d looted and torn your house to the ground, much like your neighbor’s home and the shops in the town. After the High Lord had disappeared years ago, the hierarchy had fallen - there were no more sentries to guard the village, to threaten the Bogge and keep the wraiths at bay. 

Not that you had many belongings, but you needed to find as much food as you could. You dug around for scraps of food, money, jewelry - anything of value that you could trade for shelter. But fuck, you came up with nothing. Your house was nothing but a pile of dust, all your belongings gone with it. And it was getting dark, the sun almost completely disappearing behind mountains in the distance. 

You’d have to beg your neighbors for sanctuary, even if just for the evening. They were no doubt already locking up their homes and arming themselves with all the blades and spears they could find. Deciding you would return in the morning to continue, you turned away from the pile of remains - only for your eye to catch on a glimmer in the woods. 

The shadows had already long fallen over the forest, the black of night seeping in from the treeline before you. You were met with a pair of eyes, glowing and bright green, the golden sunset mirrored in the glossy shine. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart stilling in your veins. There were many creatures that roamed the Spring woodlands, many more creeping in on the territory now that it lacked a High Lord. The water wraiths from the Summer Court encroached in the waters; after hearing that their neighboring sisters no longer paid the Tithe, they swam over in droves. Some were shifters, moving onto the unprotected lands to mark for themselves, others were sirens, with shimmering eyes that promised the brightest future, so beautiful that they lured the young Spring males to the coast, robbing and drowning them for pleasure. 

But these eyes were different, a deep emerald, slanted inwards and narrowed - canine, feral. Studying its prey, waiting for attack. You’d heard rumors of the Autumn Court hounds, the ones Beron and his sons roamed around with. How they could track Fae down between courts, tear their throats out without even revealing themselves - some were rumored to have two heads. But you watched those shining green eyes until the beast turned away, tucking itself back between the trees and disappearing into the darkness. 

___________________________

You were back on the street at the break of dawn, graciously thanking the family that housed you for the night, offering to bring them anything valuable you could find from home’s wreckage. You kicked at the dry sticks and stones on the dirt road leading to your little plot of land, cursing at the fallen trees and dying brush. 

It seemed the Spring Court curse wouldn’t be lifted any time soon. You’d worn a godsdamned mask for years - a doe: the most innocent animal of Spring, silent and small in a court full of sly foxes and brash wolves. The supposed cursebreaker returned to your court only to tear it apart from the inside out, playing spy for the Night Court the whole time. The Autumn Court emissary had left and your High Lord had disappeared - no heir or kin left behind. He abandoned you all and took his power with him. 

Some said he left and sought refuge in the Summer Court - that only Tarquin would be kind enough - naive enough - to offer him solace. Others thought he died, that Feyre killed him and there was nobody else to take the powers of the High Lord. You weren’t sure you believed either of those rumors. Nobody was brave enough to tread to Tamlin’s manor and find out for themselves; only the Mother knew what creatures resided there, Fae or otherwise.

The pile of wood and stone remained untouched overnight, you had to drag yourself over to your old land. It wasn’t worth anything, nothing was anymore. It felt barbaric, almost: digging through the mud and destroyed earth for something to barter with. It seemed that your court had been through nothing but devastation since you’d been alive. You were only just a hundred years old when the land was cursed by Amarantha - spent years in a mask followed by a stint under the mountain. When the curse was lifted, the Spring Court lasted about as long as the celebrations. As soon as life turned back to normal - whatever that truly was - the Night Court infiltration was exposed, Pyrthian was brought to war, and your home was destroyed. 

You groaned, both of your hands wrapped around a heavy log of wood, surely it was the heaviest in the pile. You groaned, gritting your teeth as you tried (and failed) to move it. Your hands slipped, dry bark breaking off the wood beam, causing you to slip and fall backwards right on your ass. You cursed, denouncing the Mother. Perfect start to the fucking day, you’d thought. A whole day of failure awaits. 

“Do you need a hand?” 

Your head snapped up, nearly giving you whiplash as you turned to the side. You narrowed your eyes, the tall male standing just in front of where the sun was rising, shadow cast over his front. But you made out his light hair, glowing in the bright light, a halo cast around his head. His shoulders were so broad, his white shirt tight around his arms but loose around his waist, the fabric shifting as the wind blew past. He held a hand out to you, palm raised. 

Your gaze dropped to his waiting hand, which you gladly took. His skin was rough, calluses around his palms and over his fingers. He pulled you to your feet, almost too easily, and had you balancing over the pile of bricks and shingles. “Thanks,” you mumbled, releasing his hand and brushing the dirt off the bottom of your dress. No use - there were days old mud stains all over it already. 

“Is this your home?” His eyes surveyed the debris you both stood over, face still shadowed from the sun. 

You rolled your eyes. “It was,” you’d scoffed, propping your hands on your hips. The male frowned, his shoulders hunched a bit. You cocked a brow at him, at the rainy evergreen smell that cascaded off of him. His blond hair was unkempt, sun-frayed and tangled at the ends. You took a step closer, onto the large wooden beam that had just bested you. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, cheeks tinged pink, chin tilted downwards. Ashamed.

You nodded, standing taller, walking across the wood so you were positioned on the other side of him. The male turned with you, not allowing his back to face you. He mirrored you, perhaps in self defense, as you looked like you were the one scouting your prey. His features became sharper as he faced the sunrise, shadows looming over his face now washed away. 

Those emerald green eyes watched you carefully, narrowed, just like those from the forest. His sharp brows furrowed as he watched you assess him, as you put together the pieces rather quickly. 

“What would you be sorry for?” You questioned the High Lord. “Did you knock down my house?”

Tamlin didn’t respond, just stood in front of you, those light eyelashes caressing the tops of his high cheekbones as he blinked at you. His jaw clenched, tongue ran over the back of his sharp teeth as he mulled over something to say, only to come up short. 

You took his lack of response as an answer in the negative. “Then you have nothing to apologize for.” 

“I didn’t stop them,” he replied, voice hoarse. It was as though he hadn’t spoken in years, as if he’d spent far too long roaming the forest in his wolf form. His body was wracked with shame, remorse, and anguish. He didn’t feel the pain when he was outside his Fae form - he didn’t have to bear the anguish of witnessing what happened to his court while he disappeared into the brush. 

You nodded in agreement. And while you spent these past hundred years angry, just so frustrated at what had become of your life, you couldn’t find yourself to be upset with him. 

Your home had been destroyed, your family gone, everything from the life you once had stripped away entirely. But what could you do? The past had already come and gone, there was nothing you could do to change it. 

The male before you felt the opposite, though. His mind was reeling with the resurgence of the memories from the past century. The masks, his friend and former lover gone - ran away to the Night Court, to the male that had murdered his family - under the mountain, the war, the Cauldron. 

Gods, all of it was his fault.

His court was destroyed, but it wasn’t the war, it wasn’t the other High Lords infringing on his territory. No, it was all him. It was the lack of his presence in his court that destroyed it from the inside out. And looking at your face, the dirt smudged over your brow, your cheeks splotched from spending days in the sun without shelter, he’d wanted nothing more than to tuck his tail between his legs and disappear back into the woods. 

But you were too captivating, your gaze leveled him completely. You didn’t tear into him, didn’t yell at him, didn’t hit him, not the way he knew so many others wanted to. He didn’t know how to help you, how to apologize for abandoning his court. He didn’t have any money to give you, no doubt he assumed the Spring Court estate had been robbed and looted. He wasn’t sure what valuables were even left anyway, after passing on money and jewels to the Archeron family. 

“I’d like to help you…” Tamlin trailed off, the words lost. His eyes roamed over the fallen house the two of you stood on. “Rebuild.” His green eyes flitted back up to you, to the doubt and surprise laced over your features. You swallowed, shoulders shrugged in indifference. Gods, you probably hated him. Wanted nothing to do with him. “If you’ll let me.”

“I’m not sure what there is to rebuild,” you replied, kicking at some stone with your dirty boot. “I’m just looking for...” What were you looking for? “Anything.”

Tamlin nodded in understanding. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to come back to, didn’t know what he would stumble upon after he’d returned to his home court. While he was no stranger to being alone, to feeling like an outcast, utterly unworthy of his position in life, he’d never been able to relate to his old friend Lucien so much. While the Vanserra had been banished from his home court, Tamlin felt like the Spring subjects would band together and exile him from his own court, too. 

But the male stood still, nothing but the wind blowing his tousled hair around his sharp jaw. He was surely waiting for you, for your permission to return to his life in Spring - a new life, perhaps: a chance to rebuild your home and his life. He needed to earn his place as the High Lord, hell - he needed to learn what it meant to be a leader, to earn the trust of the Spring citizens. 

“Well, help me move this, then,” you said simply, gesturing to the dark wood. 

You’d quickly come to realize the male just had pent up anger, stress that may have been best relieved by throwing stone and brick around. He was quiet, not speaking unless you’d ask him a question or give him direction to move some debris. Tamlin watched you carefully, just as he had the other night, eyes glossy and pointed, observing how carefully you tended to anything that may have once had value to you. But you hadn’t made much progress, finding just scraps of clothing, a broken necklace, or some rotten food. 

“I was in love once, too,” you stated out of nowhere. You kept digging through the pile of broken furniture and wood, head tilted downwards, eyes focused on the task at hand. 

Tamlin’s ears perked up and he straightened, wiping his hands on his trousers to remove some of the mud that had caked his palms. He wiped at his brow, the sweat that had built up over the past few hours. He wasn’t sure what to say, you gave him nothing to work off of, offering nothing but confusion for the poor male. 

You looked up at him only for a moment, plopping down on your ass with a sigh, resting your aching legs. “It can make you do some fucked up things.” 

He almost laughed, would have, if it didn’t burn his throat on the way up. “Even more fucked up things once you’re out of it.” 

The sound that pushed past your lips sounded like absolute heaven. It was the only salvation the male needed after years spent growling at beasts in the woods. The giggle that erupted from you - the pure surprise at the High Lord’s comment - it made his heart stop. 

But he couldn’t help the deep stabbing feeling through his gut. Guilt. He shouldn’t be enjoying the sweet sound of your laughter, the shine of the sun in your hair, your pretty smile. He shouldn’t enjoy life anymore, not after what he did to yours - to everyones. It was why he shut himself out, far in the thick Spring forest, away from all salvation, any shred of comfort he might have been able to find. After Feyre had left, after Rhysand returned to twist the knife in his once stone chest, there had been no point, no return at High Lord once everything had crumbled. 

“Well, Tamlin,” you sighed - the first time hearing his name on your lips. He quite liked the sound of it, but promised not to get used to it. “I think it’s about time we fix some of those fuck ups.”

He rolled his eyes, kicking a heavy log from the top of the pile. “And how do you suppose I do that?” 

You huffed another breathy laugh, raising your head and squinting up at him, the sun risen nearly fully in the sky. “You do nothing,” you replied simply, propping your elbows on your knees. “We are going into town.” You opened your palm, that broken gold necklace 

And Tamlin felt like folding himself in half and kneeling over that damn pile of rocks. The necklace you’d worked for hours to find ready to trade at the town center. He was absolutely sick. His mind flashed back to the days of the Tithe - how he sat atop his throne, gold jeweled crown atop his head, waiting rather impatiently for the Spring Court subjects to pay their dues. In a court where he did next to nothing to save them - after fifty years of looking for a way out of Amarantha’s plan - they still owed him. 

Tamlin had a lot of regrets. 

He didn’t know how to act, how to rule a court. Didn’t know how to save his people, how to make up for the lost years. 

There was a lot to make up for - he knew it better than anyone. 

He just didn’t know how.

You watched his mind reel, how his sharp green eyes fell to the pile of wooden scraps beneath his boots. His dark blond brows knitted together, lips pressed in a firm line, jaw clenched. His chest moved up and down with every breath he took, each one he forced in his lungs. The golden strands of his hair moved around his pointed ears, dancing over his shoulders in the wind. 

“I don’t think I can,” he replied, voice just above a whisper. 

You pushed yourself to your feet and reached out for him, for the tanned skin of his forearm. You held your fingers around his wrist, the touch shocking the male out of his daze. His breath caught, his mouth and throat suddenly ran dry. “You have to come back. You need to return to us.” 

He tried to force himself to swallow, to will his voice to work and reply. To us. He was the only one who could fix what he’d fucked up. He didn’t know exactly how, but you were right. It would start with the return of the High Lord, with the promise of forgiveness from his subjects. He’d have to beg for forgiveness, pray that they would grant him amnesty. 

He nodded though, which was all he could muster the strength for. He let you keep hold of his wrist - he didn’t even know how long it had been since another Fae had touched him - and guide him off the pile of debris, not missing how your boots skidded along the loose bricks. He reached out with his other hand to steady you, a firm hand on your hip as you stumbled to a halt, managing to remain upright. 

By the Cauldron, you felt good. Warm, delicate, you smelled like the gardens after a fresh rain. He dropped his hand just as quickly, before his mind really fell into the gutter. Perhaps the years of solitude had finally gotten to him, he thought. He had officially gone mad. So he stayed composed, letting you drop his wrist from your hand - not without a backward glance at him. 

“We’ll see what we can get,” you continued, beginning to walk towards the center of the town. You lived far enough on the outskirts that not many others passed by, none alerted to the fact their High Lord had returned. “The blacksmiths will probably be the only ones who will trade for it. Nobody really has use for gold anymore.” 

He noted the drop in your voice, the bleakness that laced your tone. Tamlin walked only a half step behind you, yet he towered over you, his chest cleared above your head, shadow fully engulfing you. “How is the food supply?”

You knew it felt foreign for him, especially to ask now after years of his disappearance into the woods. But you could tell he was trying, gathering his bearings and reassessing the court - where he needed to start first. “Not great, honestly. There are only a few who have enough weapons to hunt in the woods.” 

Tamlin knew all too well what lurked in the woods. They would be lucky if they could catch deer or rabbit, let alone an elk or mare. “I’ll see what I can manage to catch tonight,” he replied grimly, lips pressing into a frown. Under the moon was the best time to hunt, where there were surely no endangered Fae out, when the large beasts went to roam the woods, using the cover of night to avoid the hunters. The only thing that would be able to catch them lurked just behind you: a wolf. 

You eyed the clouds that began to roll in overhead, dimming the sun’s bright light. “That would help,” you replied, hoping the words of encouragement would ease his mind, but not sound too desperate that they scared the male. 

You walked the rest of the way in silence, peaceful albeit awkward. Tamlin’s fingers twitched at his sides - it was almost as though he barely remembered how to walk as a Fae male. You knew those green eyes that watched you from the forest were his. The second you saw the High Lord that morning, you realized you’d stared into his wolfish eyes - hungry and chilling, sad and remorseful. 

His gaze shifted from left to right constantly, walking through the clutter of buildings and broken wood. Half the buildings had been looted, some torn down entirely. Fae gathered around stands and what was left of the remaining shops. He felt their eyes burning into him, heard the murmuring ringing in his ears. Some were confused, others outright scared, but none approached him. 

You took Tamlin to the dim stone building, the only light pouring in from the window and cracks in the walls - no faelights or candles in sight. “He and his wife have the baked goods - there aren’t many other iron pans left in the town, he’s got the bulk of them.” Your eyes flitted around the shop, at the pile of iron ingots stacked on one of the tables. “I could never manage enough to get one, to bake my own bread over the fire.” You shot Talmin a sharp look, then eyed the shop owner across the room. “Good morning, Oleander,” you greeted the old male, hunched over a table lined with gleaming metal knives. 

The hairs on the High Lord’s neck stood, a chill running down his spine at the sight of the swords hanging on the wall, the bows and arrows piled in the corner. “(Y/N),” he replied gruffly. “What brings you in?”

You turned back to Talmin, getting eyes on the male to ensure he was still in toe. “I was wondering what you might give me for this gold.” You held the necklace out to him, the cracked pendant and broken chain gleaming in your dirty palm. 

“Ah,” he breathed, grabbing the necklace with his own filthy hand. “Given the condition, I’m afraid I can only give you…” He squinted at the old pendant, what seemed to be a depiction of the Mother with flowers braided throughout her hair. Tamlin’s mother once had a similar one. “Last week’s bread.”

“Old bread?” Tamlin couldn’t help but scoff, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

The blacksmith’s eyes show up toward him, as if his eyes and ears deceived him. Oleander, clearly half blind, squinted at the High Lord. “Do you have an issue with my pricing?” He questioned Tamlin - who was certainly not used to the bite back from his subjects. “I think I’m being more than fair to the female.” He looked Tamlin up and down. 

“Fair?” Tamlin barked a laugh. “You own all of the weapons and food in the town and you’re telling me what’s fair?” He didn’t miss the sight of you backing up, right out of the corner of his eye. You inched towards the door, palms facing outwardly behind you, feeling as soon as your backside touched the door jam. Oleander stood, broad and burly, inching forward toward the both of you. By then, the shop had dimmed, dark clouds rolling over outside. The Fae had gathered around to watch, to see the High Lord for the first time in nearly decades. 

“Oh,” he laughed, standing, grabbing one of the polished knives. He raised his voice and stepped closer to Tamlin, cornering him out the door in the same direction you were fleeing. “The High Lord has returned to preach on decorum.” Tamlin dropped his hands to his sides, unclenched fists, not looking to start the physical fight, but prepared to defend himself. He could surely take the old male on easily, even if he had been armed with half the swords in his collection. “After years of abandonment, of leaving his people to suffer at the hands of the beasts, he’s come to exhort fairness and righteousness.” 

The Fae outside watched as you and Tamlin joined them outside the shop, many of their interests piqued at the sight of the golden haired male. 

“He’s back?”

“I thought he had died…” “He would be better off that way.”

“Never thought I’d live the day I would rather see Beron than him.”

“Shut up, he’s returned to help.” “No way - he’s just going to start the Tithe again.”

There were giggles amongst the murmuring crowd, laughing surely at the old Fae male that had the High Lord backing out of his shop. There were no words he could say to ease the crowd, to change their minds, to earn their trust. He wanted nothing more than to shift back into a wolf and hide away in the forest alone. 

“We didn’t come to make trouble, Oleander,” you spoke up calmly, empty hands raised in surrender. “He’s come to make peace.” 

He rolled his eyes, amongst another burst of whispering from the gathered crowd. “Peace,” he spat. “That’s what we all used to know before he abandoned us and left us for dead.” 

Tamlin’s jaw set, anger flashed through his eyes. There were some agreements exchanged by the other Fae. There were very few who sought to give their High Lord a second chance. 

Fuck, second or third? Or fourth chance? Tamlin couldn’t count. 

“We’re leaving, okay?” You inched closer to him, right until your shoulder pressed up against his bicep. “But please - ” you turned to face the crowd, what Tamlin could only assume were your friends, others you could consider almost family. “Please, just keep an open mind. If you’d been shunned, abandoned in the woods, you’d want us to accept you back.” There were a few nods, but many blank stares as you began walking away from the town, back towards the forest clearing. “No more hatred. We’ve had decades of spite, of shame.” Before you turned on your heel, before you grabbed Tamlin’s forearm to pull him away with you, you added: “Let us find peace again. Together: united as one court.” 

Fuck, Tamlin thought. You’d spoken all of the things he should have said. He wondered if you’d practiced that little speech, if one day you secretly hoped he’d come back so you could preach that very surmon. 

Tamlin pushed that thought far down in the depth of his mind. 

But perhaps Oleander had a point. Perhaps they would all be better off taking care of themselves without the rule of an artificial High Lord. They surely managed to come this far. It wasn’t like Tamlin would be able to protect the town himself - he’d have to rebuild armies before infrastructure, to guard the town from the forest before they could sift through the remains of the down. 

You’d dragged him along nonetheless, guiding him anywhere but the town. It was back toward your home - what remained of it, anyway. But the sky was grey by then, dark clouds shielding you both from the once bright sun. The soft crackle of thunder reverberated from the Summer Coast. “I’m - ” you cut yourself off with a sigh, dropping his arm, but continuing on your trek. “I’m not sure where we can get shelter for the evening. I don’t think anyone will let us stay for the storm.”

You were surely not on your way to make any amends, though. You just kept walking back towards your little plot of land, not that there was anywhere for you two to take cover until the rain washed away. 

Tamlin kept his eyes trained in front of him, not daring to spare a look at your shining eyes as he spoke. “Follow me.”

So you did. You almost didn’t recognize it, afterall, it had been almost a century since you’d walked that path. Nature had reclaimed most of it, the trail completely gone. Tamlin’s long legs stepped over vines and fallen logs, and he held your hand for balance as you followed in his footsteps - he’d even lifted you through particularly muddy patches, simply lifting you up and placing you down before him like you weighed nothing. 

The walk to his manor would have taken a mere half hour on horseback, perhaps just over an hour had the path remained. But it would take a few for the two of you to find your way back to the Spring Court Estate in the condition of the forest. Especially as the rain started to fall, the heavy droplets hard against your skin as they fell from the sky. 

You walked for what felt like the whole first half in silence. Nothing but the sound of Tamlin slicing thick leaves and branches, clearing what he could from the once barren path. You listened to the rain, to your own ragged breath as you struggled to keep up with the male. 

You watched his golden hair darken as it became damp with rain. His white linen shirt clung to his back and arms, you’d noted the ridges carved deep into his body as his muscles flexed, working around the forest that overtook the path. He slowed once the two of you stumbled upon a clearer area, falling into step beside you. 

You could feel the tension radiating from him, his fists were clenched at his side, the hairs on his arms stood up. He wasn’t used to wondering the woods as a Fae, hell - he hadn’t been in Fae form in years. Those woods felt all too familiar to him out of his wolf form, reminded him of all the times he’d fucked up in that very spot. He needed to distract himself, clear away the memories of his friend Lucien, his once lover, his newfound family. 

“I was in love once,” he said, voice gruff, muffled from the sound of the rain falling against the wide leaves. He repeated your sentiment from earlier - an acknowledgement of his past, perhaps even an apology. “But I’m pretty sure she was fucking my emissary.” 

You’d nearly choked. 

“That’s - uh - ” Gods, what do you say to that? 

He shrugged. “My feelings for her weren’t fake,” he continued, nonchalantly, as though he’d had nothing but time to come to terms with what had transpired. You supposed he did, though, and were sure that was the only thing on his mind. “I just didn’t know how to act.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep what little body heat you had, as the cold water sent shivers down your spine. 

He shrugged. “Someone ought to hear the truth - ” Tamlin paused, only for a moment, as his green eyes narrowed in on the estate before you both. Trees covered the once stony walls, vines and thick ivy woven up all the windows and over the balconies. “You seem to be the only one who will listen.”

“I don’t not believe you, Tamlin.” You let him lead the rest of the way, pushing past the thick brush that guarded you from the estate as you neared the large castle. “Sometimes people aren’t who you think they are.”

At that, Tamlin dipped his head, turning to the side only slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your solemn expression. The rain had dripped down your face, over the curve of your nose and over your cheeks. He admired the way they clumped on your eyelashes, how you didn’t have a care in the world all covered in rain - perhaps you had more important concerns. Much too worried about where you’d sleep that night, where you next meal would come from, if you’d have shelter from the beasts, than to worry about his sob story. 

But you caught his gaze from the corner of your eye, where you’d found those bright emerald eyes washing over your form. Shadows cascaded down his straight nose, his eyelashes nearly touching his cheekbones. You’d wondered if it was the wolf in him that gave him those long eyelashes and thick hair, his sharp teeth and chiseled jaw. He carried himself like a High Lord, shoulders back and chest puffed out - perhaps the closer he got to his home, the more normal he felt. It was a routine, the same path he’d often walked with his friends: Lucien, Bron, Alis, Hart, those that worked for him yes, but also the only ones he could consider truly his family. 

Tamlin used the small knife he had to cut though the thick vines over the stairs. He’d moved each of the fallen logs, twice as heavy because they were waterlogged, and cleared the pathway to the front doors. He wanted to create a wide opening, should you decide in the middle of the night that you’d want to escape - run away from him, from the court. He didn’t want you to feel like a prisoner - he scoffed to himself, he apparently had a knack for that. 

He’d opened the door for you, watching as you gathered the hem of your soaked skirts and your muddy boots squished against the stone steps. You nodded in thanks, unable to move your eyes away from the entryway. The ceiling was fully glass, and despite the rain and clouds, cast a looming light onto the marble walls and floors. The rain echoed in the walls, the fat droplets hitting the roof hard. The heavy curtains and canvases on the walls had been ripped to shreds, rock and stone cracked and scattered along the hallways. The grand staircase was broken, missing a few steps, the railing half gone. 

You wondered what war went on here, while Tamlin tried to forget exactly that. 

He hadn’t been to his home in years. But he knew what would be left to salvage, the rooms he’d lost the energy to tear completely apart. So Tamlin followed you in, guiding you down one of the corridors. “We should be able to find some blankets and clothes this way,” he said, voice just above a whisper. It was so deep that it vibrated in your bones, sending shivers down your freezing spine. 

He’d stirred you through the wide halls, pulling you away with a firm hand on your hip when you’d tried to move toward the great dining room. His hand was hot on your waist, right at the curve of your back as he pulled you one step closer to him. “Not that way.” His eyes were fixed on the mahogany doors, hiding whatever may lie beyond. While he was almost certain he’d left you with the idea there may be Naga or wolves or some other beasts beyond those walls, he didn’t want to correct you with the truth. The gross truth that that’s where he left the elk Rhysand brought him so long ago, no doubt rotted away and disintegrated into the table - that, or it would have been swept away by some creature, perhaps for food or simply to play with its carcass. Either way, he didn’t want to find out. 

There were holes in the roof, in the floors above, that leaked through the halls. You stepped around the puddles, dodging the stream of rain that fell from the ceiling. Tamlin pushed open one of the many doors in the long hallway, a dark bedroom on the other side. “It’s not my room, don’t worry.” 

You turned up to face him. He looked weary, uneasy being back in this estate. “I wasn’t worried, Tamlin.”

He released a breath, his chest visibly falling at your words. He followed you in, closing the door to shut out the cold that the rain had brought to Spring. He’d brought you to one of the guest rooms, never had been occupied by a member of his court. It went untouched during Tamlin’s rage, there had been no evidence of life to destroy. He’d managed to rummage around and quickly find some candles, digging through drawers and closets to find a dry book of matches. 

While Tamlin lit the room, you were drawn to the soft couch in the corner, pulling every blanket and piece of cloth you could find. Gods, it had been so long since you had a good night’s rest, since you sat on a plush sofa and had the softest blankets around you. But you had to wait. Your dress was soaked, you’d been dragging water and mud behind you that whole time. “Do you have any…” you trailed off with a sigh, assuming the male didn’t have any spare dresses lying around. 

You actually would be more concerned if he did. 

“There may be something,” he replied, picking up on your predicament. He sifted through the armoire again, the flickering candles aiding his search. He’d come up with some clothes, a few linen pants and loose shirts. He held everything out to you, a pile of clean fabric. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d worn clean clothes. Tamlin noted how your eyes widened, like you’d hit the jackpot, like you’d never seen pajamas before - clean clothes. He cursed himself once again for cursing his people, for abandoning them and forcing them to live in destroyed homes and a looted town. 

You pulled a handful of clothes from his offering, your wet skin crying out for warmth. “There’s a bathing chamber that way.” He nodded to the door far off in the corner. “Doubt there’s any water but…” he trailed off with a shrug. 

“Thank you,” you replied, legs practically begging to take you to the bathroom and change into the pajamas. So you’d scurried away, grabbing a candle to light your way into the bath chamber. The mirror was cracked, covered in dust. But you quickly shucked off your wet dress, grabbing the shirt from the pile and wiped yourself dry, wringing out your hair in the fabric. You pulled on the next shirt, the huge cotton long-sleeve that fell halfway down your thighs. No doubt it had been designed for the High Lord, perhaps even his emissary. But you’d take what you could get, throwing on another shirt for warmth, then the linen pants. You fisted the waist, pulling one of the strings from your dress bodice to tie the pants snugly around your waist. 

Through the dirty mirror, you made out the dark circles under your eyes, your tired eyes and wild hair. You suppressed a sigh, too tired to care one bit. So you returned to the drawing room, finding the High Lord in a fresh set of clothes as well.

He was trying to busy himself, sifting through the pile of blankets you’d managed to create, even adding a few more to your pile. He didn’t want to be rude, to fall onto the soft couch or bed without first making sure you were taken care of. 

His heart stopped when he turned, seeing you swimming in the Spring Court clothing, even just those too-large pajamas. You looked so relieved, so comfortable and, honestly, ready to pass out for the evening. So he cleared his throat: “You can have the bed.” It was all he said, added a head nod towards the other end of the room, where the mattress was, nothing but some sheets atop it. “I was going to give you these.” He gestured to his pile of blankets. All the soft looking ones in one pile, the thin scratchy material separated behind him. 

“We can share the bed, no?” You made your way toward him and grabbed an armful of the blankets he’d folded. “We could both use the nice bed, I’m sure. I imagine it’s been longer for you than me.”

Tamlin cocked a brow, watched as you trudged over to the bed, dumping everything atop it. “I’ve managed just fine.” 

You glanced over your shoulder at the male. “Bring those other ones,” you called out, ignoring her words. “We’ll probably need them if this rain doesn’t let up.”

Tamlin shook his head to himself but did as told, not in the mood to argue with the female, especially not the beautiful one wearing his clothes. So he brought over the rest of the blankets, even the scratchy ones, and helped you make the bed. It was haphazard, sure, some of them not big enough to cover the whole bed, a patchwork of covers, some yours, some his, then the ones stitching you together down the middle. 

You climbed in immediately. 

The sigh you let loose from your lips almost had Tamlin on his knees before you. Your back cracked when you laid down, plush mattress cushioning your spine in a way you hadn’t felt in a long while. You slept on the hard wooden planks of your neighbor’s floor since your house had been torn down, freezing and stiff. You hadn’t remembered the last time you’d had a full nights rest. 

The same went for the male beside you. He’d been holed up in some cave on the Spring-Autumn border, where the wind whistled past and the cold seeped through the rock into his bone. His thick golden fur only did so much to protect him from the chill. He was surprised he hadn’t gotten himself killed out there, and he didn’t even want to think about everything he himself had killed in those past years. 

“What made you come back?” Your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he blinked a few times before pulling the covers back and joining you on the opposite end. He was careful to leave space, to not encroach. His palms caught on the scratchy fabric of the blanket he’d laid on his half, calluses hard and broken, left from his many years of tearing apart flesh with his paws. 

“I was tired of being a coward,” he replied humbly. “I ran away from everything that happened. Pretended like it never happened and shut myself away.” He ran a hair through his half-dried hair, fingers getting tangled at the ends. 

“You were alone?” It was a cross between a question and a statement, he wasn’t sure which you were going for - probably the former. 

“I’ve been alone my whole life. Everyone I come across either leaves or tries to kill me.”

He felt you turn, shift on your side to gaze at him with what little light remained of the candle. Tamlin kept his eyes trained on the covers above him, unable to face the pity that probably laced your features. “Did they try to kill you?” Your voice shook, afraid to even ask the question, terrified of the response. 

He offered you a half shrug. “They left…willingly,” he’d added, mulling over the words in his head. “Though I suppose I not-so-willingly let them. I don’t know how to keep friends, it seems.”

“I suppose that’s better than the other option.”

Them killing him. “Better when it’s not your own family, too.” It was no secret the previous High Lord had a knack for starting wars, for sending his sons to fight his battles for him. Tamlin had a reputation far before his powers even matured - his brothers’ even more so. But what you didn’t know was that they were ready to kill him the instant he matured into a stronger male. He wasn’t glad they were dead, but he was glad he was safe - even if only for a little while. He had found few friends before the curse, a lover afterwards, even. But just like his father and brothers, he could not show love, no matter how hard he willed it, he kept fucking up. 

That’s what it felt like, at least. He supposed he was the jester of the Spring Court in the end. The friends he’d had and the lies they told him: you never made me feel like a prisoner - her voice rang in his head. Soon they were gone, twisting the opposite tale to the male that murdered his family. Nothing could be forgiven in Prythian, no reconciliation to be made between courts. There was no coping, no help from his friends, no one to confide in. So he did the only thing he knew how: shut himself out. Just like he had his former lover, keeping her safe in that very estate. 

He kept every Fae who remained in Spring safe from himself, even if that meant casting himself into the woods. 

You shifted only a bit, but close enough that you reached over and tucked your soft blanket around his shoulders, over his chest that had nearly gone cold from the rain and chill outside. You were close enough that Tamlin could pick up on your flowery scent, that he noted the small hint of honey and cherry blossom lingering along your skin. 

It had been so long since he’d touched another Fae, since he felt someone care for him. He couldn’t help it - his head fell onto your shoulder, right where the crook of your neck met your collarbone, a perfect fit for the crownless male. “And how have you fared, Tamlin? Now that you are a free male?”

Free. 

Free from what? From his duties as a High Lord, surely he’d abandoned them years ago, letting the Naga and the beasts of the Spring Court take over the sacred land. Free from Amarantha’s glamor, the shackles she’d chained him with under the mountain? Free from the binds she kept on his mind, the nightmares - memories - he relived each evening? 

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be free from it. 

He didn’t know how to cope. Not when the only people he’s ever cared about left. Not when his best friend left him when he clearly needed the most help, not when his lover left to wed his mortal enemy, then bare his child. But he apologized to her, for all the trauma he must have caused, locking her away, fearful of who else from Prythian would come to spite him by taking away the female he loved, by he saving her mate. 

He cursed himself. Surely, someone ought to have a happy ending. Might as well have been her. 

He was upset, in fact. When it all came down to it, everything was traced back to his anger. He was blind to his own emotion, it’s what caused him to act without thinking - a strategy he’d never seemed to master, not like the other High Lords. It ended up causing him his newfound family, his Court, it got the Archeron sisters caught and thrown into the Cauldron, it spurred the war. He was a failure, he’d lost the Spring Court and his pride alongside it. He’d been played like that godsdamned fiddle. 

And Tamlin let himself lie in that dark cave night after night, rotting in a lifetime of regret. 

He could only shake his head, nose rubbing against your skin that poked out from the loose collar of your  - his - shirt. “I swear I will rebuild the Court, (Y/N),” he whispered, breath warm on your skin. His lips just barely touched your skin as he spoke. “I promise it, I’ll run the beasts out and fix the mess I’ve made. Even if nobody believes me, if they’ve lost all faith in me.”

Your hand fell downwards over the blanket you’d placed over him, fell down the soft fabric over his chest. “Actions, not words.” He tilted his head up, and those deep green eyes met yours instantly. His gaze washed over your face, over the sheer determination and strength, but in utter admiration as you spoke. “Show them.”

You lifted your hand, fingers twitching in hesitancy, but your mind worked too fast. You brushed your hand over his cheekbone, over the strong jaw and tanned skin. He nearly shivered, nearly broke out in a godsdamned sob. 

Tamlin was fighting to keep his emotions intact, to stop himself from absolutely crumbling apart in the safety of your arms. He slowly shifted upright, sitting beside you, back against the headboard just as you sat. You never moved your hand, save for your thumb running over his cheek, tracing where the light stubble had grown in over his jaw and cheek. 

His own hand fell to your hip, safely above the covers. But the added weight of him caused the shift, the simple weight of his large hand on you sparked something inside of you. 

So you leaned in. 

You didn’t know what it was. If it was the fact you’d hadn’t been held in years, the fact you laid in bed together, cold from the rain and nearly out of candles. If it was the fact that he’d opened up for what probably was the first time ever, the male with the worst reputation - his ill temper, his tendency to fight, how godsdamned beastly was - laid out and vulnerable in your arms. 

Your lips met his softly, a firm enough kiss where you felt equally matched, as if he, too, was waiting for you to do it; but soft enough that he would pull back if you did, that he would restrain himself from going further, should you realize you’ve made a mistake. 

You did the opposite, though, barely breaking away for breath, parting your lips just enough to gasp for air before pushing against him once more. Your hand raked through his long hair, so Tamlin had no choice but to do the same. His fingertips wove through your own hair as his hand rose from your hip to cradle your jaw, tilting your head to the side. 

He tasted sweet, not what you were expecting from the male whose scent lingered with the sultry forest and fresh morning dew. He was gentile, too. His tongue moving only to trace your bottom lip, nothing more. Your lips moved over each other in sync, breathing in tandem and letting those soft sighs escape between the two of you.

You pulled him closer, winding your other arm around his neck as you laid back, sliding further onto the bed where he had to drop a hand beside you to hold himself up. But he kissed you anyway, like you were the last breath of life for that dying male. 

Perhaps you were giving him life, that spark he needed to reignite the male inside of him who he once was. 

Your hand trailed down his chest as he continued deepening the kiss, lips moving quickly over yours, growing hungrier, more desperate. You fisted at his loose shirt, not even bothering to untie it, just slipped your hand underneath from the bottom where it hung so loosely from his body. His abdomen shivered under your touch, your fingertips tracing the hard rigid muscle. Tamlin sighed against your mouth, trying (and failing) to suppress the groan that built up in the back of his throat. 

So he’d pulled away, the sound of your lips parting from his loud and wet, a sound he’d practically forgotten about over the past decades spent alone. His forehead dropped against yours and you felt the tickle of his hair against your cheek. “I can’t - I’ve already caused too much destruction. I’ll hurt you.”

It didn’t feel real - he had to stop himself, break free of the dream he was surely living in. Another female, not only giving him the time of day, but who cared for him without even knowing him. He huffed a loose laugh, and muttered to himself: “I’m going mad.”

His lips were still far too close to yours. They barely touched as you spoke. “Take it out on me.” You tilted your jaw up, just barely high enough to capture his lips with yours. “I can take it, Tamlin.”

He shivered, I’ve heard that before. “I don’t want you to have to.”

You peered up at him where he gazed down adoringly at you, from underneath those long light eyelashes of his. He’d bent down for one more kiss, all his passion put behind that one last time of your lips pressed together. 

He only pulled away when he ran out of air. 

He slotted down beside you, his arm curled under your shoulders, the other crossed above the blankets, the piles of soft and scratchy ones, and fell over your bodies to rest on your hip. You fell asleep with your face buried in his chest and your arm flung around him, dreaming of the promise tomorrow held. 

YOUR GRACE,

Pairing: King! König x Female Reader

Prompt: As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told.

Words: 3k

Warnings: The dirtiest thing I’ve ever wrote— voyeurism, public sex, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, cum eating, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex, biting.

A/n: König literally means king in German, so we shall play this to our advantage. I’ll be in the corner where I belong if you need me.

MINORS DNI

It was simply disgusting outside. Mud had caked upon your boots, and the blood of your enemies you viciously killed still painted your armor. You looked every bit as wild on the battlefront as you did after victory.

Your breath frosted in the air, a shiver overtaking. You looked forward to taking a warm bath heated by the fire you had already started back in your tent.

That was before you were interrupted by one of the King’s servants, his face reddened upon glancing at your bare breasts, your armor long stripped. Luckily you hadn’t slid out of your trousers, but it was simple to say you were irritated.

You hastily pulled your furs back over your upper half, grumbling at the feeling of clothing upon your back and not hot water.

You shouldn’t have let frustration get the best of you, yet as you marched towards the other side of camp, everything managed to piss you off. Screaming soldiers fighting for rations, horses nickering too loudly, and men that couldn’t help but stare.

“You got a fucking staring problem?” You snarled at a particularly small soldier, who gulped in alarm when he caught the vicious glare you sent him.

A little chuckle broke out from behind you, and your heart leapt out of your throat when you realized it was your King.

His massive form was always a sight to see, except this time he looked even more terrifying. He seemed taller in his armor of glowing silver. Unlike most Kings, he fought amongst his men, so instead of untouched metal, his breastplate was splattered in red and mud. Even his signature hood he wore in battle was smeared with drying blood.

His arm was flexed upwards, holding up the cloth door of the council’s tent. Several men were already inside, all councilors of the senate, none that fought in the battle. You curled your lip.

“Play nice, Maus…” he purred, ushering you inside. You had to admit that the warmth of a fire felt nice against your face, the small shiver of your back disappearing.

“Right…” Your king sat upon his makeshift throne of forged steel, large enough to fit his massive form and have plenty of room to spread his legs wide before him. You sat next to him, and if it wasn’t for the bluntly obvious General’s cloak you wore, it could almost be assumed you were in a Queen’s throne. You sat close together, as you always did in briefings.

It wasn’t hard to guess the affairs the King had with you. Often times the guards would catch you sneaking out of his quarters, your sloppy gait and wrinkled dress being enough evidence to guess the steaming affair. He found joy in the hunt, something he made very clear when his face was pressed to your weeping cunt as his hand muffled your screams of pleasure.

“Are you listening, Girl?” A senator broke you away from your inner turmoil, your sour mood coming back in full force.

“I apologize, sir, but I think you meant General. Not Girl.” Your bite didn’t go unnoticed by the other senators, they shifted uncomfortably in their seats. König let out a little sigh of amusement.

“At ease… we are just starting. She has not missed anything important.” König diffused the situation, and you fell back into your chair with a huff. You’d rather be anywhere than speaking politics with these slimy pricks. You were a warrior, not a peacemaker.

“What is not important is a woman among our ranks. Let alone one that simply serves purpose to warm your bed.” The senator seethed, and you merely smirked at his comment. König would not tolerate this insolence, it would be fun to watch this play out.

Panicked whispers broke out amongst the senators as König stood. His height was scary in its own, but as he towered in a silent anger, he looked even more menacing. His steps were calculated, stalking towards the conquered sand table right in front of the unruly senator.

“You’re so tense.” König joked as his palms fell upon the little man’s shoulders, like claps of dark thunder. Your eyes twinkled as he clamped down.

“I apologize, sire.” The senator squeaked, although the bitter laugh that escaped the giant’s throat made him even more pale. “I shouldn’t be the one you apologize to, but I doubt whatever you come up with would be sincere.”

“I can apologize to the General…” he squirmed, the situation already making you revel in joy, but when your King bent his knee you grew more satisfied, your mouth watering.

“I won’t hurt you… tell me something, senator?” König’s voice cut across the tent, eerie silence replacing his growl.

“Anything.”

“Have you ever felt a pretty woman’s mouth against your cock?”

It was silent, you felt your own heart rate pick up at the question. The silence was enough of an answer, König laughed, deep and threatening. He crouched lower, his eyes level with the senator, his hood still terribly covered in blood. He reached down, pulling a singular dagger from his boot, before placing it against the base of the quivering man’s throat.

“I’m pretty big, she chokes on it most times, but occasionally…” König tilted the dagger down, against the hollow of the man’s throat. “I’ll open her up just right, and her pretty, tight, throat can take all of me to here.” He tapped the flesh, a wicked glint in his eyes as he stood straight again.

“Everyone out! Except you…” His blade stayed planted against the senator’s throat. His eyes happily watching as the council scrambled out of the tent.

“Don’t go far… I plan to have a meeting after I take care of this issue,” he yelled as they left. He sheathed his dagger, a soft pat was placed on the senator’s shoulders.

König stalked back to his throne, his eyes uncharacteristically soft as they met your own steeling ones.

“Come here, darling.” He purred again, you imagined the plunge in your gut was a lot different than the one the senator had felt. You rose from your chair, casting a quiet glance at the senator before stopping a few inches in front of the King.

You knelt respectfully, a gesture that made König’s eyes flash as he glanced down on you through his hood.

You could practically see his teasing smirk through the dirty canvas.

He reached out, his palm resting upon your cheek, then lower to the warm skin of your neck. His touch was like glowing embers, always the one to set you on fire.

“You see this? So very loyal to the King, something I wish for my councilmen as well.” His eyes burnt holes into the senator, a wicked swirling of pleasure beneath his commanding eyes. His palm rubbed smoothing circles against your skin, keeping you grounded and focused on his massive form. You hummed at his compliment, allowing a chuckle to escape the King’s throat.

“She likes to be praised and she treats me so well. Say something nice about her, senator.” König demanded from his throne, his legs still spilled wide as he pulled you gently between them, slotting your kneeling form against the tight muscles of his inner thighs.

“She fights well.” He squeaked like a timid mouse, König tutted, obviously unhappy with the response.

“No, no. About her appearance, like how sweet her cunt tastes, or how pretty she looks kneeling.” His words made you clench around nothing, but you didn’t dare move from your position, your eyes still locked and wavering at his hood.

“She has pretty eyes…” he mumbled, barely loud enough for König to hear. He laughed slightly, a gruff chirp that shook his wide chest.

“Such a pathetic compliment, it’s a wonder why you’ve never got your cock wet, hmm?”

The senator whined, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, but you didn’t pay much mind, your stare falling to your King’s open thighs, where his cock lay tight against his pants.

König chuckled again, the sound musical as he petted upon your hair. “Those pretty eyes are staring at my cock like she’ll go hungry. I feed her well, keep her satisfied and by my side.” His hand patted upon the crown of your head repeatedly—a waiting game.

“But you won’t get to look at her pretty eyes.” König reached to his face, pulling upon his battle-worn hood, he dropped it to the ground with a dull thud.

He was ethereal in a way, simply like a God you had bent your knee for. His messy hair a color of the sun when it set— a dull warm orange. His nose was long and crooked, likely from breaking the cartilage in battle. His face was angled and stern, as if he was a spring ready to snap. His pupils were blown, you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or lust.

He fumbled with his belt, pulling upon the leather material until it hung loosely upon his waist. Finally, he leant back against the chair, his eyes finding the senator’s in disgusting pleasure.

“You know what to do, Maus.”

It was all you needed as a sign to reach your nimble fingers beneath his waistband, pulling down upon his trousers until his half-hard cock displayed in front of your face. You felt no shame as you clutched upon his massive shaft, your fingers barely wrapping around the sheer girth of him.

“Don’t look away, senator… I’ll spoon out your eyes if you do.” He rumbled, just as you pumped him once.

König was definitely putting on a show, releasing a deep sigh that came from his stomach. You knew then that he wouldn’t go quietly, your King was going to be loud, and no one would dare stop him.

“She’s good with her fingers, but near euphoric with her tongue.” He glanced down to you, cradling your jaw before lowering you down to his weeping head, a soft bead of precum leaking from him.

“Come now, darling… you’re being shy.”

With a amused huff you parted your lips, running your tongue down the shaft of his cock, nearly smiling as König hissed. That was real, not just a loud and absurd noise of punishment for the senator.

His hips pushed against your mouth, impatiently rutting his cock deeper down your throat, barely giving you enough time to open wide enough that your teeth wouldn’t scrape against his warm skin.

He pressed against the back of your throat, despite his battle worn body, he’d always tasted of bittersweet cherry wine, maybe it was because he drank so much of it. Always a goblet in his hand when you’d be in his quarters, a book slotted in his other hand. He’d often enjoy a glass while you sat on his lap, doing his best to read you the passage as you warmed his cock.

He jerked up again at your dazed expression, the fleshy walls of your throat gagged around his throbbing head, not being able to take the stretch.

“Shhhh… you hear that senator? Hear her struggle on my cock?” His massive paw wrapped around your head, pulling you back slightly, letting you catch your breath.

“Say she’s beautiful. Say she’s the most gorgeous woman in the whole kingdom. I want you to look at her when I cum down her throat, so every time you stroke yourself with that pathetic hand, you’ll think of my cock…” he brought you down upon him again, except this time you were ready.

“Fuck…”

Your nose hit the soft edge of his pelvis, tears welling in your eyes as he stretched your jaw to an extreme he hasn’t ever reached before.

“She’s beautiful…” the senator quietly squirmed as König’s fiery stare glared back at him. “And she’s all mine, the only woman that warms my bed.” With a final thrust, and your ears ringing at the praise, you tightened just enough for him to spill his seed against the back of your throat.

Your King’s soft whine of pleasure the only thing that propelled you to swallow every last drop of him, despite how much it truly was.

“What a good girl, she swallowed all of me. Not like some common whore you’d have to pay for, hmm?” His fingertip traced under your lip, gathering up your sticky saliva and a drop of him you missed. He fed it to you in a satisfied stupor, obviously his orgasm had fatigued him. Yet, his eyes still swirled with lust, you knew this was far from over.

“Leave, senator. If I hear you even breathed a slight word about my General again, I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs.”

The senator sighed in relief, eyes lowered to the ground as he hastily bowed, leaving the tent in such an embarrassed state you hardly noticed as König hauled you to your feet before settling you against his knee, his eyes playful as he regarded you.

“I think my most prized subject deserves an award, no?”

You pretend to think about it, your mind airy from all of the praise you’ve just received. With a sure hand you reached out, connecting with his jaw. Auburn stubble had begun to sprout amongst his cheeks, showcasing the time spent fighting amongst camp instead of his warm keep.

“There will be others, a lot more distasteful than him.” You warned. König sighed, paws squeezing upon the soft furs bunched on your waist.

“Let them talk. Let them listen…”

His hand wrapped upon the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest until you were tight and straddled against his waist, the cold armrests of his throne digging into your legs.

He wasted no time in kissing your swollen lips, reveling in pleasure as he tasted himself upon your tongue.

He was hot and warm, a summer day in the contrast of the icy battle that had raged earlier. It made you yearn to be under his furs in his bed back home, tucked into his side like some precious jewel. Shivers erupted down your back when he nudged his nose against your chin, allowing him space to sink his teeth lightly in the flesh of your collarbone. You ground down against his bare cock, he grunted at the friction.

You gasped when his hands squeezed underneath the soft parts of your thighs. Effortlessly, your King pulled you up in his arms, never breaking away from your neck as he sucked against the flesh. Still, he knew exactly where he was going, because in a few steps he had you laying flat against the sand table, pieces of wooden carved castles and crests scattering across the surface.

“You looked so pretty sucking my cock, Maus. Never wanted to fuck you more, fill you until you cried,” you gasped, and in one fluid motion König had your trousers down and thrown on the dirty ground. Your bottom half exposed to the nipping cold.

“Never done anything like that with someone looking…” you mumbled, not that you felt self-conscious, but the fact that König would display to the world that you were his.

“Think I’m embarrassed of you?” He teased, before falling to the dirt just as you had previously done. You clenched, watching as the man you served would now serve you.

“Of course not.” You aired out, tilting your chin down to glance at his eyes, rounded in dark sultry glow.

“Good. Because they’re going to hear you, and they’ll know just how good I make you feel,” he growled, before snatching your hips, pulling them against his awaiting lips. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you release a humiliating moan from the warmth of him.

He set to work immediately, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, just as he sucked down hard upon your clit. You jerked, slamming your eyes shut while whining unapologetically when he crushed your pelvis back down against the cold table.

“Sit still, Maus…” he pulled away a moment, slick glistening to his lips as he licked them greedily. He hummed, “you taste divine, you want me to continue?”

“Yes, Your Grace…” you mumbled in a drunk euphoria, barely hearing his growl as heaved your legs upon his shoulders and dipped lower, licking and suckling upon you again. Enough that you were seeing stars, vision nearly black as he added a thick digit against your clenching walls.

It squelched against the tightening flesh, causing a deep moan to flex from your throat, and a hum of approval to fall from König’s lips, the vibration sending you over your edge. He added another finger, wallowing in pleasure as he stretched you.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, “that’s it darling, cum around my fingers, I want to taste it.” You tightened around him, seeing black as you felt yourself unravel, pure bliss falling from your lips as he lapped up everything you gave. He kissed the inside of your thighs, the touch like fire, burning and burning until you were nothing left but ashes.

He slipped his fingers away, the loss of contact making you whine pathetically. Oh, how easy it was to fall into the spell of him.

He laughed, a joyous sound, if it wasn’t for your quivering form. You needed more than just his fingers, and judging by the twinkle in his stormy eyes, he knew it too. He stood tall, his shadow falling over you like a blanket.

“What’s wrong, Maus?” He quipped, sharp canines glowing against the roaring fire in the distance. He knew exactly just how much this was getting to you. How his own fingers were shaking with primal desire, how he needed to plant into you and seek delicate shelter.

Your legs instinctively spread wider, allowing his hips to slot between them. With a slow hiss he stroked himself, your own eyes growing wide at the sheer girth of him, fully hard and wanting. He was always one to split you in two, a precious stretch just for him.

He taunted, gliding back and forth against your slick, up and down, again…again. Just as you were about to tearfully beg he breached your hole, a grunt leaving his lips before his head fell back in desperation.

“Fuck darling… so tight.” He pushed in slightly, half of him clamped and yielding to you. The burn was delicious, just as his hands were when they found purchase of your clothed breasts. He kneaded, just as he pulled out slightly again.

A sharp cry echoed the tent as he pushed back in— a wicked snap of his hips that made you moan. He rutted deep, one hand pressing into the table near your head, his eyes locked on your furrowed features.

“Eyes open, Maus.” He commanded, and you did as you were told, eager to please the King. Your teary eyes flooded with a jerky thrust, the tip of his head hitting your womb. It was pure instinct to wrap your legs around him, allowing him a deeper angle to ravage.

He was every bit a King. His size, his intelligence, his cock. It all dulled in comparison to any other man or woman. A true man of unwavering power.

“You hear her crying on my cock?” He yelled out into the tent, releasing a growl of his own as his cock began to twitch your gummy walls.

Whispers erupted from outside of the tent, some of the senators even commenting on how they did hear, just to please the King’s ego. It only made you moan louder, as his hips snapped even faster at their whispers.

Your hands found purchase around his cloak of woven velvet, roughly pulling at the material until you reached the warm skin of his shoulder blades, the high nearly reaching you as you rose upwards, your nails tearing into his flesh.

The only wound he’d received from his conquest.

“That’s it. Cum on your King’s cock,” he growled, losing himself just seconds after you began to clench, seeing stars in the most delightful way.

You were never one to disobey his orders.

He was never one to deny you pleasure.

With a cry, your walls closed around him, just as he pulled you tight against him, his thrusts sloppy as he rode you off your orgasm. Only seconds later did he pull you into a bruising kiss, your own mouth swallowing his moan as he spilled warm seed inside you, coating your walls in a way of pure unadulterated bliss.

He kissed you, long and slow, not daring to break your connection until he wiped your tears built from shared pleasure.

He was simple nirvana in the form of a man.

You silently whined when he pulled back, his little hiss of relief only making your eyes grow wider in admiration. He knelt again, his stare falling between your legs to your battered cunt, completely and utterly full of him.

He chuckled, reveling in ecstasy at your spent state, and all you could do was stare. With a curious finger, he pushed his seed back into your womb, a glint in his eyes as you moaned out to him at the breach.

“Love to see you full, darling. Maybe the seed will take, hmm?” His words jarred you, so crude yet delicious at the same time. Just as he was.

“They’d be bastards.” You couldn’t help but slur, eyes finding your ripped trousers in the mud.

König’s eyes twinkled as he did up his belt again, an amused look on his face as he tossed you his cloak. It would be enough to get you back to your warm bath. Forget the fuckin’ council.

The giant’s swollen lips quirked upwards, his steps sure as he reached against the table, pulling a long piece of parchment from a draw. With an outstretched hand, he gave it out to you.

You read it over, again and again. Eyes widening more each time you reread. In shock you stood, attempting to ignore the shake in your legs from excitement and from earlier pleasures.

A declaration.

“Marriages are sacred in Royalty. You know that. But being a King also makes you a conquerer, conquering means new land. Land means area to rule. I can make whoever I want royalty on said land,” He rumbled, his chest pressed to your back, just as he pushed back your hair, placing a searing kiss upon your neck.

“How would it feel to be a Queen? My Queen.”

Tags: @mykneeshurt @soapyghost @fante-di-denari

Can i request a Aegon ii x reader (i see that almost no one write for him) where the reader(who can be a Tyrell or a Baratheon girl)father and Alicent are planning to get them to marry and in the beginning Aegon is just doing it for his mother but he soon start to fall for reader ‘cause she is the only one who treats him gently,but then after a accident they get separated but now he is in love and wants her back?Sorry if this is too long and thank you 🫶🏻

⊱ ❀ ✿ ꕥOf monsters and flowers.

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader.

I got a little carried away and i think i will make a part two.Reader is a Tyrell,bless her heart she is a sweetheart and didn’t deserve what i did to her.Hope you like it!Let me know what you think💕 (also sorry for the errors)

20/01/23:part 2 is up!💕

•••••••••••••

Her little shoes brushed the hardwood floor as she slowly stepped down the long hallway.The glow of the candles on their pedestals lined the dark walls, and she fidget with her fingers as she glanced left to right at every closed door she passed by.

During night time the Red Keep turned in to a limitless and obscure place in which people can get easily lost.She never liked that place,she didn’t like it there,truth to be told she didn’t like anything that wasn’t her home:Highgarden.

But at least the parties for the beginning of the spring in Westeros were rarely an event,the last winter lasted over ten years three more of Y/n age.The parties were considered a gif from the Tyrell family,the rulers and protectors of the Reach,to the royal family Targaryen bringing at court the prettiest flowers that bloomed in Highgarden,the most delicious wine and the best musicians.

It was the first party that Y/n attended with her family,as the only child of Lord and Lady Tyrell she was prepared for months for that night.For her it was sewed the most beautiful azure dress embodied with golden roses,her hair where long on her shoulders with a little shiny flower to keep ‘em off her angelic face,and obviously her mother and her Septa educated her to behave like a proper Lady of her age.

The castle was so big that she thought she won’t ever be able to see all of it,and it was filled with things that everyone is always gushing over and whispering about, but it made her nervous. She felt like she could break something every time she turned around.And it was too dark. Even worse at night with the castle only lit by candlelight.

Y/n pressed her lips together,pausing before she called out,«Father?»

Where was him?

She stepped softly, not sure where she was or how to go back to the party, but she knew that she saw her father coming this way.She thought there was a third floor, too, but she was not sure where the next stairwell was to get to it.

Why would her father come up here? Everyone is downstairs.

Y/n clenched her jaw harder with every step away from the party she took. The lights, voices, and music faded, and the silent darkness of the hallway slowly swallowed her up.

She should go back.Her father would get mad that she followed him anyway.

«Father?» she called again, itching at the tights on her legs as the light azure dress she’d been wearing since this morning chafes her skin.

«What is the matter with you?»someone yelled in the cold corridor.

Y/n jumped surprised,it seemed to sound like the voice of a young woman.

«All that you do is drink and bother the servitude!I raised you better than this!»the woman yelled again.

Y/n spotted a silver of light peaking through a cracked doorway and walked closer.She doubted that her father was in there,he was usually the one yelling at people not the other way around.But maybe the person inside the room could have helped her to find him.

Leaning into the door frame,Y/n peered into the crack, trying to see who’s in the room.

At first, all that she could make out is gold. The golden glow of the golden flame of the candles shining onto the golden desk set. But then she shifted to the left,her pulse hammering in her chest,her mother and Septa would’ve be so disappointed to see her spying someone.

In the room King Viserys second wife,Queen Alicent Hightower,came cross into her view from behind her desk. She stood, breathing hard with her jaw set, as she looked down at whoever is on the other side.

«I do everything you ask me,all the time,to assure you the position you decided to have for me!»a young boy with long pale blonde hair,was giving his back to the door but Y/n could see the way his shoulder were moving up and now and the sound of his short breath.

Prince Aegon Targaryen,second of his name,was wearing his mother house colors,a dark green vest,that had a even darker wet spot on his chest.At his feet a golden cup was spilled and the floor was covered in dense light red liquid,probably wine that could be smelled in the room.

The Queen face looked tired,an expression that Y/n observed during the big dinner that started the celebration of the Spring.The Tyrell family was sitting at the same table of King Viserys like every other year,drinking,laughing and feasting together.With the back of her eye,Y/n saw her father speaking in the Queen ear while her eyes were setting to where the young Lady Tyrell was sitting next to her first son.

«Everything i ask you?»the Queen repeated with a short laugh«If you were really doing what I’ve asked you,you’ll be out there dancing with the girl.Asking question about her,listening to her speaking to you!»she yelled again with exasperation.

Y/n itched closer to the door,her hands were playing with the hem of her dress.She had met prince Aegon only few times and all of them they only spoke to each other mere greetings words,nothing more that a quick bow and some stolen glances from the other side of the room.He was few years older than her,taller and with a mischievous grin alway present on his pale and beautiful face.But the way he acted made him look a spoiled child that didn’t care about anyone around him except for himself.

The young prince turned around,the way his feet wobble a little and his red tainted cheeks made Y/n realize that was already drunk.During the fest,where they were sitting next to each other,the little girl tried to start a conversation with him.She asked him about his hobbies,what felt like to fly on the back of a dragon and if he liked the flowers that she had personally chose for their table.

Aegon didn’t even acknowledged her presence,all of her questions were answered with a long awkward silence or the sound of him slurping his,the gods knows how many,cup of wine.In the end Y/n had found herself talking with princess Helaena,who was sitting across from her,that shared her same interest in insects and flowers.

It was in that moment that Y/n saw her father excuse himself and heading out of the party room,soon even the Queen and her son were gone.

With Aegon heading towards the table where a golden pitcher was,Y/n could now see how tired his purple eyes looked and the way his light blonde hair framed his delicate face.

«Why would i care to listen to her?She is boring and stupid.»Aegon muttered under his breath.

There was a metallic sound,the cup that Aegon was holding in his right hand fell to the ground and landed beside the one that was already there,more wine was staining the floor.

Queen Alicent was now standing in front of her son and after she had slapped the hand holding more alcohol,she grabbed the young boy by his jaw.Y/n gasped,covering her mouth with her hand and looking at the scared expression on the prince face.

His eyes widened,fear and pain inside of them fought for dominance,his breath quickened as his chest was moving faster like his heart was trying to escape it.He didn’t said a word while his mother brought him closer to her face.

«Because her father cares about her!»she stated through gritted teeth, her voice was loud and and made her look even more infuriated«Highgarden cares about her and that’s mean you have to care about her!»she continued.

Y/n froze on her spot,in her cute little dress,unable to move a single inch of her body.They were talking about her the whole time?She was the reason why the Queen was so mad to her son?

But then she realized with the Queen next words:«Once you’ll be sitting on the throne there will be a war and we will need Highgarden on our side!And to have it you need to have her first,can’t you understand that?»she asked letting go of her son face.

Y/n brain was melting in her head,a war?Aegon on the Iron Throne?But she thought that King Viserys named his first daughter,Rhaenyra Targaryen,as his heir.She remembered her father disappointment whenever,drunk or not,he was speaking of such a joke to have a woman to rule the Seven Kingdoms.

But what really shocked the little girl was what the Queen had alluded to:a union forged between their houses,a son for a daughter,a wedding.That’s must be why the prince was sitting next to her during the dinner,why his mother kept shifting the conversation on her and why her father often discussed with the Queen.They were promising their children to each other.

Aegon stumbled a little,caressing his aching jaw where his mother iron grip still lingered on his skin.He didn’t care for the throne,the political aspects,and most of all he didn’t wanted to belong to someone else,especially to Lady Y/n Tyrell.The young prince just wanted to be left alone,free to drink and have whoever he wanted,free from that weird little girl stupid conversation and cute face.

«Did you understand?»his mother bursted out again.

Y/n sucked in a breath, and on reflex, took another step. But she accidentally went forward instead of backward and hit the door. The hinges creaked,the door creeps open another inch, and she took a step back.

Oh, no.

She scurried back, away from the door, and whirled around, ready to bolt. But before she could escape, the door opened, light spilled across the dark hardwood floors, and a tall shadow loomed over her.

The little girl clenched her thighs, the silvery ache was burning like she was about to pee on her dress. Slowly, she she turned her head and saw Queen Alicent standing there in a dark green dress with golden embodied.The scowl on her face softened,and she lets out a sigh.

«Good evening,my dear.»she said,her lips curled in a slight smile as she gazed down at the little girl.

On instinct,Y/n took a step backwards.«My apologize,your Grace.»she bowed her head down«I…I got lost.»she swallowed,looking up at her brown eyes.«Do you know where my father is? I can’t find him.»she asked then,her voice was thin and polite,a little shaky just like her hands.

The Queen smiled,squatting down at Y/n level«You are Y/n,right?»she asked sweetly.

The little girl nodded,putting a foot behind her and ready to take a step back.But before she could,the woman in front of her caressed her cheek«You have your father eyes.»she said.

That wasn’t true and no one ever told her that.She was nothing like her father,not in the slightest.

Y/n cleared her throat«Do you know where my father is?»she asked again,desperate to leave that hallway and the situation.

But just then, the room’s other occupant swings the door open even more, letting the knob hit the wall, and charged around his mother and out of the room.Blonde messy hair,pale skin,tired purple eyes and stinking of wine,young prince Aegon was now in front of her.

His mother placed her hands on his shoulder making him jump a bit«I’m sure that my son will be more than happy to help you finding your father.Right,Aegon?»she squeezed him,a forced smile on her lips.

The boy seemed absent,his eyes empty while he was watching Y/n up and down memorizing the way she was holding her gown like she wanted to tear it off.It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with her at the moment or in the future,but at his mother will,a similar smile came across his face.

He moved silently,taking a few steps in Y/n direction«Of course mother,it would be a pleasure to help you Lady Y/n.»he said taking her hand in his.

Aegon walked fast down the hallway,wanting to be free by his mother presence as soon as possible and Y/n did her best to follow him.She didn’t even had the time to thank the Queen properly that her son had snatched her away,holding her hand in a iron grip that started to hurt her.

The little girl could sense the distress coming from the boy ahead of her and with every corner they turned,with the light of the candles,she could swore she saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

«My prince»started Y/n with a gentle voice,Aegon ignored her just like he did on dinner«I’m really sorry of the trouble this situation is causing you.If i can do anything to help you-»

Unfortunately Y/n knew that in the world she was living in,hardly young Lady and Lords had the fortune to marry someone out of love.Marrige was just a mere political question,sons and daughters to sold to the best offerer,to whom seemed to be the best for the family sake.

But maybe,she thought,if they were to be betrothed to each other they could get to know each other more and one day to actually love each other.

Aegon stopped walking right before entering the grand hall where the party was,from the other side of the door music was playing loud and the cheering could be audible from miles away.

Y/n stood still as the young prince turned to look at her«The only thing you could do to help me is to keep your little mouth shut and do not talk about this to me or anyone!»he hissed against the little girl finally letting go of her hand.

«But my prince-»Y/n tried only to be interrupted again.

«Do you wish me to tell your father that his precious daughter was spying to the Queen and future King?»he asked her,enjoying the way her face become pale at the mention of it.

With Y/n shaking her head,Aegon opened the door of the hall and a warm golden light welcomed them alongside the smell of flowers and sweet wine.

The prince disappeared in the crowd,not caring about finding Lord Tyrell because it was him who had found his daughter.Icy cold fingers wrapped themselves around Y/n arm,a familiar smell of alcohol came from his breath,as he turned his daughter to speak to her.

«Care to tell me why you where alone with the prince?»his asked her,his voice was low and an angry expression was present in his face,one that Y/n knew really well.

Y/n kept her eyes on her shoes,playing a little with her feet«I-I got lost and he helped me.»she spoke with a tiny voice.

Her father tightened his grip on her arm making her hiss in pain«And why were you lost when i specifically told to not leave your place?»her father was so close to her face that Y/n saw the redness in his eyes and the anger behind them

Y/n was his only daughter,his only child,his only rightful child to be specific,and her father never missed out the opportunity to let her know how much he wished for a son,a heir for Highgarden and how her only purpose was to be married off to some important Lord of the realm.

But now that he had planned the union with the prince,the future King of the Seven Kingdom,he couldn’t have his daughter weirdness to ruin his chance to be the father of the future Queen.Their engagement wasn’t official and it was inappropriate for a Lady like her to be alone with the prince.People could start talking.

With Y/n silence,Lord Tyrell spoke again«Did you really enjoy disobey me?Ruin everything that i plan for you?First it was Lord Stark son to say that you didn’t even speak to him,now you wander off the castle like a stupid girl and-»her father words were sharper than a knife that was cutting the layers of her heart,word after word.

But what really hurted her was the fact that she knew he was right.She had always been different from the other ladies and how her father wanted her to be.Y/n liked simple and soft things just like herself,just like her favorite spot in the gardens of her home where she spent half of her time hiding from the world.

«Your majesty,to what i own the pleasure?»her father voice changed immediately becoming joyful,a big smile was now present on his face as he let go of his daughter arm bowing his head to someone who was behind her.

Aegon voice surprised Y/n,who was still looking at her feet like they were the most interesting things in the world.A warm hand touched her back and she shivered,feeling the warmth irradiating her body through the delicate fabric of her dress.

With him next to her she felt more brave,tilting her head up as the young prince took place next to her«Lord Tyrell»the boy greeted politely«I just wanted to ask you daughter to dance with me.»he said narrowing his eyes at the man in front of him.

He was deep in the crowd,at his second cup of wine since he came back,when he saw the way Y/n eyes started to water,how her lower lip trembled trying to hold in the urge to cry and the horrible expression on her father face.The young prince felt a odd sensation in his chest,it was like he was watching himself interacting with his mother,but Y/n was far more soft than him and a grip like that would’ve broke her.

With hitching hands,his legs walked towards her before his brain could give them the command to do it and now he was holding her next to him.

«Of course,your majesty»Lord Tyrell answered instead of his daughter,his eyes sparkling«Y/n would be more than happy to accept,right sweetheart?»in her father words she could feel the thick desire to have the process of their union working.

Aegon turned to the girl next to him«Would you?»he asked again,but this time his voice was calm a reassuring.

He asked her,not her father,and he wanted to make sure that she was fine with it.Otherwise he would’ve found another excuse to drag her away from that horrible man.She may be boring and stupid,like he addressed her before,but no one deserved to be treated that way by the person who was suppose to love you unconditionally.

Y/n put on her best fake smile,turning to the prince next to her and bowing to him«I would like nothing more,my prince.»she answered with light voice.

Another song started to play,the dance floor was adorned with beautiful blue and lilac flowers and a warm golden light irradiated all the people dancing and laughing around.With the corner of her eye Y/n saw princess Helaena dancing happily with young prince Jacaerys,while the King watched them with a soft expression.

Queen Alicent and Lord Tyrell were now sitting next each other again,as their eyes followed where their children were going around all of the people.The young prince lead the little girl away from their judging eyes,away from the chaos at the center of the floor to a more private spot just for them.

Aegon placed his warm hands on Y/n hips after guiding her arms around his neck«Forgive my rudeness,your majesty,but i don’t think this is the way we are suppose to be dancing to this song.»Y/n said,that closeness made her arms weak and her legs shaky.

Princess Rhaenyra was also dancing with her husband,Lord Laenor Velaryon,alongside her first son and younger sister.Y/n saw the way people on the dance floor changed parter from time to time according to rhythm of the music,but whenever someone got close where Aegon and Y/n stood,the young prince prevented anyone to take his place in the young Lady arms.

«I’m the son of the king,»he stated«i can dance like i want.»

Y/n nodded as her partner twirled around,she could feel her father eyes on her alongside the warm brown ones of the Queen.

«Pretend to have fun,their are watching us.»Aegon spoke under his breath so that no one but her could hear him.

Her heart started to pound in her chest,it was difficult to maintain the eye contact especially when the prince was looking anywhere but at her«I promised to not speak about it,but this is really how it’s going to be between us?»she asked as Aegon twirled again.

The boy was holding in a yawn,like he couldn’t care less about what she asked«I’m sorry to be the one to let you know,my Lady,but there is no us.»he stated looking around them.

The little girl heart clenched a bit,her body moving but her mind was heavy like stone.It was her duty to find a honorable a suitable husband,that was the reason why she was born and the idea of prince Aegon being one scared her a little.It was clear that the young boy was interested only in himself,in his wine and beautiful young servant girls.

And if Y/n had to be his wife she had to swallow it all without saying a word,she was there for political matters not for love even she desperately wished to have a marrige filled with love and intimacy unlike her parents one.

Y/n bit down on her tongue but the words came out anyway«But when you become King you will need me by your side.»her voice was quiet and easily suffocated by the loud music.

Aegon stopped moving,the sound of the music dying in their ears as the song came to and end«Then,my future Queen,you should know where your place is and when it’s time to speak.»he told her,walking her to their table and disappearing once again in the crowd.

The next day the sun was up in the sky shining down to every living creature in King’s Landing.The delicate perfume of flowers was in the warm air and the chirping sound of the little birds was singing in the wind.

The spring was finally and officially there.

Y/n was sitting on the fresh green grass in the Red Keep garden,it was nothing like the big gardens that she grew up with at home,but that was the only place that she felt in peace and at ease.

Beside her the flower that she had picked with their beautiful and unique colors,were waiting to be intertwined in a small crown while Ser Larys Strong was sitting on a bench next to her.

During her first two days at the Castle,Y/n had spent the majority of her time in his presence sharing with him the same love and knowledge for plants and flowers of every kind.

«The roses bloomed beautifully this year.»he said looking at bush next to him and taking one in his hands.

Y/n nodded,a little smile on her face,but not taking her eyes off the flower crown«They were preparing during the whole winter and the result didn’t disappointed.»she stated.

Lord Larys watched the little girl carefully,he already did when he first visited Highgarden with his father for the first time.She was quiet,reserved and easy to toss around,also she was the head of one of the most richest houses in Westeros and the Reach would have offered her a strategic point during the years.

It was no surprise that he was the one presenting the idea to the Queen,having Y/n as Aegon wife would’ve certainly made behave the boy,gave him the support to his claim to the throne and her good and kind heart would’ve made her an amazing Queen to the people compared only to Alysanne Targaryen.

Lord Larys nodded,just like he,Queen Alicent and her father were preparing her and the future King to take the what was his birthright«A crown for a princess?»asked the man pointing with his walking stick what Y/n had been working on.

Y/n hand faltered a bit and she hoped that Lord Larys didn’t notice that and the way her cheeks heated up.She shook her head«I’m afraid i’m no princess,my lord.Just a crown for a normal Lady.»she said showing him the result.

Her mother,Lady Tyrell,had taught her how to do that when she was just a child«But you could be»Lord Larys stated,his eyes were calculating just like his words«You and prince Aegon seemed very fond of each other last night.»he told her,of course,hidden in the darkness,he was keeping an eye on the two of them just like everybody else.

«The prince was just being kind,my Lord»Y/n answered immediately,avoiding his intense gaze.

«The one who’s kind here is you,Lady Y/n.You could have made a Good Queen,if things were different.»Lord Larys stood up,holding his walking stick,and making his way towards the castle.

«Lord Strong»a young voice came in«My mother is looking for you.»Aegon stood in the middle of the garden,his purple eyes traveling on Y/n figure while the young Lady got on her feet and bowed to greet him.

Lord Larys gave Y/n a little smile«I wish you good evening my Lady,hope that we could spend more time talking about flowers in the future.»as he was taking his leaving.

«I wish you the same,my Lord.»Y/n responded holding the flower crown in her hands.

Aegon followed with his eyes the cranky figure disappearing inside the Red Keep«Was he bothering you?»he asked turning to face the young girl.

She was wearing a long light yellow dress,two long braids fell from each of her shoulder,her face was redden thanks to the sun and her eyes shined under the warm light.

A little spark plunged in the young boy chest as she smiled at him,shaking her head«Not at all,my prince.I find his company quiet enjoyable if i had to say.»she explained to him.

«You find enjoyable talking to that freak about boring plants and stupid flowers?»Aegon asked gesturing with his hand the bushes around them and with a confused expression on his face.

Y/n face scrunched up,a little scowl on her pretty face«Flowers are not stupid!»she stayed with red cheeks.

The smirk on Aegon face grew,as he founded enjoyable to torment the little girl as his liking«Boring and stupid»he corrected her«just like spring time.Why would we need spring when we have the long summer?»he asked peeling off the petals from a daisy.

Y/n let go of her little crown that landed on the soft grass,walking towards the bush where the roses that Lord Larys was talking about bloomed«There’s a lot of things that we don’t know about,my prince.But if the Gods decided to gif us with spring even though they already gave us the long summer,it means that,deep down,we know that we need it.»she explained with tender voice.

Aegon remained quiet for a bit but his mind was loud enough,he remembered the speech his mother gave him before the Tyrell arrival: “Deep in their blood and their bones,everyone knows,that one day you will be our King.”

But why would the real need him,the spring,when they already had Rhaenyra,the long summer?

Because they knew they needed him,the King first son,to sit on the Iron Throne and reign on the Seven Kingdoms.

«But what if the spring doesn’t want to come?»Aegon asked,his voice trembled a bit while he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He couldn’t even understand why,out of everyone,he was talking to her about this topic.But somehow,it came easy to speak his mind around her.

Y/n reached to a little lilac rose,it was tiny and the rosebud didn’t bloomed yet like the other flowers around«This one seems late»she said handing it to the prince«But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be as beautiful as the other.Maybe it will take many springs to get ready,but when it will be bloom it will be the most beautiful flower in the garden.»she reassured him.

Aegon watched the stem in his hands«You sound very confident in what you say.»he noticed.

The girl besides him nodded«With a little help anything can happen.»

The young prince felt the heavy rock on his heart being lifted for the first time in years,he had someone now on his side ready to fight his battle and to help him grow stronger every day.

As Aegon played with the flower in his hand a little sting crossed his palm«Ow!»he bursted out shaking his hand.

Y/n immediately took his hand in hers«What happened?»she asked trying to take a look.

«Your stupid flower!Did you wanted to kill me?»he answered with res cheeks and short breath.

Finally when the prince opened his hand,the little girl had to quiet down a giggle.Nothing had happened,there was just a little trickle of blood and a thorn in his palm.

Aegon hissed when Y/n took the thorn out without warning«Do you find my pain funny,Lady Y/n?»he asked,he seemed quiet offended.

Y/n cleared her throat from a another laugh«Absolutely not,my prince.»then she held his hand up close to her face.

«What are you-»Aegon words died on his mouth a warm feeling exploding in his chest.

She had brought her lips right were the small cut was on his pale,her soft and rosy lips kissing where it pained him«Here,all better now.»she said caressing the bloody flesh.

Aegon felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading all across him,a red sensation traveling from the tip of his feet right up to his neck while his hearth was hammering furiously in his rib cage.

And just like she said,everything was better now.

It has been a week since Y/n had found out that soon her engagement with prince Aegon will be officially announced before the end of the next week and since that day in the garden,the young Lady and the young prince were forced to spend time together.

Every excuse sounded like a good one to have time in the same room or at least talking to each other.His mother had called her more than once in her presence to express her gratitude for staying at her son side in a delicate time like this,a war was coming an the House of the Dragon will be divided,Rhaenyra and Aegon would be fighting in the first lines and they needed allies.

So much had changed of Aegon bratty demeanor during the time he spent in Y/n presence,his annoying jokes,his rudeness and troublesome behavior started to quiet down leaving everyone around him shocked.

Lady Y/n was the first one that treated him gently,when he talked to her he started to have a sense of totally intimacy between them.He could tell her anything about himself,his fears and even his weird little things,and she wouldn’t tell to anyone he knows that.Staying alone with her,spending time in her company felt like opening the door of his life a closing it behind him.

He wasn’t scared of them like the other little Lords were of a silent girl who never looked anyone in the eyes,she was actually a pretty gentle person,but he feared being around her,because of the confusing way he started to act,the things he had confessed to her that he normally wouldn’t say to anyone.

«Where are we going?»Y/n was trying to keep her voice quiet,a hand holding the gown of her pink dress and a laugh of her lips.

Aegon was holding her hand,it was late night,after another fancy dinner with the Lords and Ladies of Westeros,when he snatched her out from the dance floor.

The moon was high in the dark sky and the little stars were illuminating them from above.Dragonpit looked even more majestic at night.

«You remember what you told the first day you came at the castle?»he asked her opening the gate.

«I told you a lot of things,Aegon.You have to be more specific.»since the prince told her to address him with his birth name when they were alone,Y/n was using all of the time.

Aegon rolled his eyes«You told me that you wished to see a dragon.»he reminded her.

Y/n eyes widened a big smile now was present on her face.The inside of Dragonpit was dark only lighted with few torches on the stone walls,the air smelled like wild animals and it was quiet colder than she had imagined.

Aegon was guiding her,a hand behind her back as a big creature creeped out of the dark.

Sunfyre was his dragon,with gleaming gold scales,which shone like beaten gold in the sunlight,and pale pink wings membranes.Y/n swore that it was the most beautiful dragon ever seen in the know world.

The little girl took a step back out of instinct when the dragon came closer where it’s rider was«Don’t be afraid,it won’t hurt you.»Aegon reassured her.

She watched carefully how Aegon caressed the dragon necks,whispering to it something that she couldn’t understand,perhaps something in high Valyrian.«Come.»he said then outstretching his hand to hers.

For all of her life she had listened to stories and legends about dragons,how fast they were,how their fire could melt even steel and stone.And now,finally she had one in front of her eyes,and not just a dragon but Aegon’s.

Her legs felt like stone as she took little steps toward the monstrous creature that was keeping his bloody eyes on her small figure.Y/n could feel her heartbeat in her ears and her mouth go dry as Aegon placed her hand on Sunfyre warm scales.

Sunfyre rumbled a bit as his eyes closed enjoying the little pets he was receiving«I think he likes me.»the little girl said with enthusiasm.

Aegon had a genuine smile on his face,he was looking at the other part of him getting along with his future wife,the future mother of his children that will have to reign besides him.

He never felt this way,for anyone before.As his fingers brushed to her delicate face,under her chin to turn her head towards him he placed his warm lips to her soft ones.

It wasn’t the first time that he kissed someone,he was twelve years old and had his fun around the castle,but this felt different.The way his soul felt at ease and his skin itched to be close to her,the way her pure smell was intoxicating him made him week on the knees.

Y/n on the other side felt like her heart was about to explode in her chest,she was squeezing her eyes so tightly and her body was as still as a tree while she had pushed her lips to meet the prince ones.

Sunfyre growled as the patted from each other,and Y/n thanked the gods that Aegon was still holding her back because she felt like her legs weren’t able to keep her up.

«Y/n!»the little girl jumped away from his embrace when she heard the yells from her mother.

Lady Tyrell face was fuming,red as a dragon fire,while she was taking deep strokes to reach her daughter arm.Behind her Queen Alicent had a disappointed expression on her face,starring directly at her son,while Ser Criston Cole walked beside her.

«Mother!»Y/n said when Lady Tyrell dragged her away from the prince and his monster.

«What where you thinking to do to my daughter?»her mother bursted out at Aegon.

Sunfyre growled again in defense«We weren’t doing anything!»Aegon explained.

«And i should believe you just because you are the prince?»Lady Tyrell yelled again still holding her daughter«I heard stories about you and i don’t want you near my daughter!».

As always Lord Tyrell hadn’t informed his wife about his plans or maybe she just didn’t agree with him.

«He’s saying the truth,mother.»Y/n called everyone attention on her«I just wanted to see a dragon and the prince was kind enough to let me.»she saw the way Aegon face softened at her words.

The Queen let out a sight,placing a hand on Y/n mother arm«Maybe it’s better if we go back to the castle,the children are alright and we can talk about this in a better place.»tying to calm her down.

Lady Tyrell slapped the Queen arm away,Ser Criston was ready on his feet«A better place is Highgarden,where i will take my daughter tonight!»she screamed.

Aegon eyes widened,how could he stay without her now?He needed her beside him«You can’t do that!»the young prince took a step towards where Y/n was,Sunfyre moving closer behind him.

«Aegon!»his mother called him with a stern look.

«I can and i will!»Lady Tyrell informed him.

Sunfyre was looking directly at the woman,a low rumble coming from the back of his throat,his wings starting to moving agitatedly.

«I’m gonna keep her as far away from you-»with every word Lady Tyrell was speaking she was hitting Aegon with her finger,right on his chest and under the dragon eyes.

Y/n eyes widened,her breath got stuck in her throat as she watched Ser Criston pulling his mother away from in front of her.

A golden warm wrapped around the little girl figure,light flames danced on the skin of her left shoulder.Walking up her once untouched neck,her delicate chin and rosy cheek dissolving every trace of beauty and innocence she once had.Before her mother instigated Sunfyre,before the dragon opened his monstrous mouth and spit his unforgivable flames on Y/n.

It wasn’t her the dragon was aiming for,it was her mother.But it was Y/n who had found herself screaming till she collapsed on the dirty floor,her who was brought to the Grand Maester room in Ser Criston arms.

And it was her who never saw King’s Landing and Aegon again.As the week after the accident,her parents went back to Highgarden with an annulled union and two broken hearts leaving each other.

Enamored Masterlist

Summary: Everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst.

Yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. They had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight.

Regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss.

That assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though.

You were nowhere near ready.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, Regency era society and social rules, angst. (Separate warnings included in chapters)

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