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After this battle you’d helped with the most of it, patching up men here and there with the surgical precision that had been drilled into you by your father when you were younger. Once you’d done all the tasks that you’d been assigned to by the Maester you reported back to which he’d given you a small nod and told you to “Go and see to Ser Brienne, she should be in the tent by the well.” That gave you pause. You’d never heard of there being a female knight before and wondered if you’d perhaps misheard the maester, though the name did sound decidedly feminine. Nevertheless you cautiously made your way to the tent, calling out one you’d found it.

“Excuse me Ser Brienne, I’m a healer, the Maester sent me to check up on you?” There was a beat of silence before you spoke again. “May I come in?”

You waited another moment before a definitely feminine voice responded.

“Yes, of course, sorry let yourself in.”

You pulled back the flap and your heart stopped when the sight inside greeted you. Ser Brienne, who was definitely a woman, sat before you, her shirt hanging loosely off her broad frame as damp strands of strikingly blond hair framed her beautiful face. She was sat on her cot and lightly lifting the fabric to observe a wound and the slither of skin you could see was tantalising. It was only when she at last turned to look at you that you snapped out of it. Stunningly blue eyes, unlike anything you’d ever seen before, observed you, almost as if she was assessing how dangerous you were. The whole picture made something frighteningly feral tighten in your gut. You shook your head slightly to remember yourself.

“Er, the maester sent me Ser, to see to your wound.” 

Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked and she definitely caught onto it if the inquisitive look on her face was anything to go off of. She sat up, almost defensively and dropped her undershirt, you silently mourned the loss of the skin that was displayed for you.

“I’ve never heard of a female Maester.”

She spoke matter-of-factly, and you slightly smirked at the irony of it. Allowing a teasing lilt to take over your tone as you responded.

“I’ve never heard of a female knight.”

She smiled slightly at that and your stomach did a little flip at the sight. You took the following silence as a sign to continue.

“I’m not actually a Maester, just a healer but I help here and there.”

She hummed in understanding and lifted her shirt again, revealing the slight gash on her side, it was nothing too bad, and would probably only take you about 20 minutes to disinfect and stitch up. You walked around to kneel beside her, infecting it more closely for any signs of it being more sinister but when you found none you took your satchel and began to unpack the necessary supplies. 

“It would be best to speak while I work, just to distract from the pain if anything.”

She seemed a bit bewildered by that, as if the thought of making conversation was painful and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The air of awkwardness she exuded only endeared you to her more and you found yourself with an aching desire to know more about this shy female knight.

“How did you er-“ She fumbled for a moment, searching for words. “…How’d you become a healer? Since they don’t train women in Oldtown?”

You smiled kindly at her, trying to reassure her that you weren’t put off by the awkwardness - quite the opposite actually. Your hands worked mindlessly as you began soaking a cloth in alcohol to clean the wound, speaking as you went.

“My father taught me, and his mother taught him before that. My family have been healers for generations.” 

She winced and sucked in a sharp gasp of air when you pressed the material to her side, beginning to wipe away the excess blood from the wound as you cleaned it. Once the initial pain passed she nodded for you to carry on.

“Where is your father now? Is he around the camp?”

Your smile turned slightly sad as you reached to grab a different cloth.

“My father is unfortunately dead, laid to rest on the grounds of our old family home.”

She was more focused on you now than the pain you'd noticed and the very idea of it delighted you.

“What about the rest of your family?”

“My mother and younger sister still live there, I work to feed them. I take out as much as I need to get by from my earnings and the rest goes back to them.” 

“That’s very noble of you my lady.”

“Please, I’m no lady you ought just call me by my name.”

You gave her your name and she tested it upon her tongue, speaking it softly in the dim lighting of the tent while you threaded the needle and began to stitch her up. 

“What of you Ser, how is it that a woman came across a knighthood when it has been forbidden for so long in the past.”

“I suppose the same way most knights are made. I was knighted by a dear friend of mine after years of serving the realm with as much honor as I had to give.” 

Her answer was so humble that you felt your desire deepen tenfold. You finished bandaging her up and stood so you could look down at her face. You couldn’t help but marvel that even whilst you stood up she was close to being the same height as you.Your eyes dropped to her lips for just a second but from the way her breath hitched you could tell she had noticed. A faint blush spread across her cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean into her space more, feeling the warmth radiate off her skin. She broke the eye contact first, looking at her hands on her knees bashfully as you took the hint to step back and give her some space.

“My apologies, I overstepped.”

She looked at you again, slowly raising her head to reveal a deep flush spread across her face that made you rethink whether or not you had in fact made her uncomfortable. Her voice was slightly ragged when she spoke next and you took note of the way her hands fisted the fabric of her breeches.

“It’s no issue my lady, it was not unwelcome I am simply.. unaccustomed to receiving such positive attention from someone like yourself.”

You bent down to pick up a damp rag, bringing it up so you could gently wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. She seemed to preen at your attention, head tilting back as her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to bask in the sensation of it.  

“I don’t know why you say that, you’re very beautiful my lady” 

Your voice was quiet, a breathy edge to it and Brienne looked pained by the comment and she grabbed your wrist to stop your movements with the cloth. The air felt suffocating with tension.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Her voice was small, far too small for someone of her stature. You paused your motions, looking her straight in the eye with a steely seriousness.

“I do mean it though, if you held a knife to my throat and asked me to speak the truth I’d simply tell you no man has ever captured my eye, not in the way you did when I first saw you a moment ago.”

Brienne searched your face for any sign of mockery, of jest but found none. Her hand softened its grip around your wrist and you took that as an incentive to move. You leaned forward, kissing her softly at first to test the waters, when her slightly chapped lips started to kiss you back you deepened the action. You brought your hands up to grasp her shoulders, opening your mouth so you could stroke your tongue against hers, every nerve cell in your body igniting with fiery passion. You noticed with much frustration that her hands still lay clenched over her knees, so you pulled back, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment before it snapped. Brienne looked blissed out, her eyes still closed and dewy lips slightly parted, you thought she looked angelic, like a deity come to life. You ran your hand through her hair, teasing the strands until her eyes peeled open to meet yours, you finger traced the line of her bottom lip and you gave her an encouraging smile.

“You can touch me, you know, I’m not made of glass.”

Your hands reached down, grasping her slightly clammy palms to bring them up so they could rest on your waist, her fingers gripped tightly onto your flesh, as if she was afraid you’d disappear. Your own hands came back up to frame her face, moving back in to kiss her once again, this time forgoing gentleness in favour of passion. Your tongues slid against each other and you moved to situate yourself upon her lap, your thighs bracketing her hips on the cot. You felt the tension slowly leave her as she brought a hand up to grip the back of your head, her hand weaving itself into your hair to ground her. Slowly you began to grind your hips against hers, the fabric of her breeches and your dress rubbing deliciously against you as you moaned out, your hands pulling down and digging into her shoulders to ground yourself. She didn’t look any more composed than you, her eyes screwed tightly shut and head tilted back as soft sounds escaped her. Your hips picked up their pace as your own hands dragged down to unlace the ties of her chemise and you broke apart for just a moment to pull it off. Her bare chest met the air and you immediately dove down to wrap your lips around one of her nipples, sucking gently in a way that made her cry out, her hand flying to your shoulder.

Her deft fingers started to unlace the back of your gown and you kissed your way up to her neck so she could reach properly. Once your dress was loose enough she tugged it and your shift underneath over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor below. You felt her hands push softly against your ribcage and you stopped moving, sitting yourself up fully on her hips so she could look at you, no doubt the wetness from your cunt soaking through her breeches. You watched as her eyes darkened when she dragged them over your naked form, your chest heaving for air in the warm space. Neither of you moved for a second until she sprung up, surprising you as she grabbed your arms and flipped you, with no difficulty you thought, your back hitting the soft bedding as she loomed above you. You watched, your legs parting and fingers coming down to rub your clit as she got off the bed and pulled off the last of your clothes, the sight of her bare form making you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. She climbed back onto the bed and you grasped her hand to pull her until she was straddling your thigh. She looked at you then, searching your face for permission.

“Are you certain?”

You only smiled back delighted by her chivalry even in such an intimate moment.

“More certain than I’ve been about anything else in my life.”

With the clarification she lowered herself down, connecting your cunts with a sigh out as she began to move. She held your thigh up, spreading you wider as she rubbed herself against you, the two of you moaning out at the friction. You felt flushed, breathing heavily and gasping each time her clit made contact with hers. Your hands grasped for purchase on the sheets, her arms, your legs before one finally clamped down on her hand on your leg and the other came up to palm your breast, teasing your nipple in a way that made you feel deliriously overstimulated. You opened your eyes t o look up, finding her already staring back down at you, the sight of you there must have done something to her as she began to speed up, chasing her release desperately as you ground yourself back up against her in search of your own. You both came with cries of pleasure and you felt your body go limp on the bed. 

You sank back into the sheets and closed your eyes, feeling the bed shift as Brienne lowered herself to lie next to you. Her arm draped itself over your middle and you tilted your head up so you could kiss her softly again. A lazy smile spread across your lips once you broke apart.

“Hope you have nowhere to go.”

She looked puzzled for a second, while you carded your hands through her short hair, thumb briefly coming up to smooth the furrow between her brows.

“I don’t, can I ask why?”

“Just that I’d be devastated if you were torn away from me so soon after I’d found you.”

After this battle you’d helped with the most of it, patching up men here and there with the surgical precision that had been drilled into you by your father when you were younger. Once you’d done all the tasks that you’d been assigned to by the Maester you reported back to which he’d given you a small nod and told you to “Go and see to Ser Brienne, she should be in the tent by the well.” That gave you pause. You’d never heard of there being a female knight before and wondered if you’d perhaps misheard the maester, though the name did sound decidedly feminine. Nevertheless you cautiously made your way to the tent, calling out one you’d found it.

“Excuse me Ser Brienne, I’m a healer, the Maester sent me to check up on you?” There was a beat of silence before you spoke again. “May I come in?”

You waited another moment before a definitely feminine voice responded.

“Yes, of course, sorry let yourself in.”

You pulled back the flap and your heart stopped when the sight inside greeted you. Ser Brienne, who was definitely a woman, sat before you, her shirt hanging loosely off her broad frame as damp strands of strikingly blond hair framed her beautiful face. She was sat on her cot and lightly lifting the fabric to observe a wound and the slither of skin you could see was tantalising. It was only when she at last turned to look at you that you snapped out of it. Stunningly blue eyes, unlike anything you’d ever seen before, observed you, almost as if she was assessing how dangerous you were. The whole picture made something frighteningly feral tighten in your gut. You shook your head slightly to remember yourself.

“Er, the maester sent me Ser, to see to your wound.” 

Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked and she definitely caught onto it if the inquisitive look on her face was anything to go off of. She sat up, almost defensively and dropped her undershirt, you silently mourned the loss of the skin that was displayed for you.

“I’ve never heard of a female Maester.”

She spoke matter-of-factly, and you slightly smirked at the irony of it. Allowing a teasing lilt to take over your tone as you responded.

“I’ve never heard of a female knight.”

She smiled slightly at that and your stomach did a little flip at the sight. You took the following silence as a sign to continue.

“I’m not actually a Maester, just a healer but I help here and there.”

She hummed in understanding and lifted her shirt again, revealing the slight gash on her side, it was nothing too bad, and would probably only take you about 20 minutes to disinfect and stitch up. You walked around to kneel beside her, infecting it more closely for any signs of it being more sinister but when you found none you took your satchel and began to unpack the necessary supplies. 

“It would be best to speak while I work, just to distract from the pain if anything.”

She seemed a bit bewildered by that, as if the thought of making conversation was painful and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The air of awkwardness she exuded only endeared you to her more and you found yourself with an aching desire to know more about this shy female knight.

“How did you er-“ She fumbled for a moment, searching for words. “…How’d you become a healer? Since they don’t train women in Oldtown?”

You smiled kindly at her, trying to reassure her that you weren’t put off by the awkwardness - quite the opposite actually. Your hands worked mindlessly as you began soaking a cloth in alcohol to clean the wound, speaking as you went.

“My father taught me, and his mother taught him before that. My family have been healers for generations.” 

She winced and sucked in a sharp gasp of air when you pressed the material to her side, beginning to wipe away the excess blood from the wound as you cleaned it. Once the initial pain passed she nodded for you to carry on.

“Where is your father now? Is he around the camp?”

Your smile turned slightly sad as you reached to grab a different cloth.

“My father is unfortunately dead, laid to rest on the grounds of our old family home.”

She was more focused on you now than the pain you'd noticed and the very idea of it delighted you.

“What about the rest of your family?”

“My mother and younger sister still live there, I work to feed them. I take out as much as I need to get by from my earnings and the rest goes back to them.” 

“That’s very noble of you my lady.”

“Please, I’m no lady you ought just call me by my name.”

You gave her your name and she tested it upon her tongue, speaking it softly in the dim lighting of the tent while you threaded the needle and began to stitch her up. 

“What of you Ser, how is it that a woman came across a knighthood when it has been forbidden for so long in the past.”

“I suppose the same way most knights are made. I was knighted by a dear friend of mine after years of serving the realm with as much honor as I had to give.” 

Her answer was so humble that you felt your desire deepen tenfold. You finished bandaging her up and stood so you could look down at her face. You couldn’t help but marvel that even whilst you stood up she was close to being the same height as you.Your eyes dropped to her lips for just a second but from the way her breath hitched you could tell she had noticed. A faint blush spread across her cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean into her space more, feeling the warmth radiate off her skin. She broke the eye contact first, looking at her hands on her knees bashfully as you took the hint to step back and give her some space.

“My apologies, I overstepped.”

She looked at you again, slowly raising her head to reveal a deep flush spread across her face that made you rethink whether or not you had in fact made her uncomfortable. Her voice was slightly ragged when she spoke next and you took note of the way her hands fisted the fabric of her breeches.

“It’s no issue my lady, it was not unwelcome I am simply.. unaccustomed to receiving such positive attention from someone like yourself.”

You bent down to pick up a damp rag, bringing it up so you could gently wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. She seemed to preen at your attention, head tilting back as her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to bask in the sensation of it.  

“I don’t know why you say that, you’re very beautiful my lady” 

Your voice was quiet, a breathy edge to it and Brienne looked pained by the comment and she grabbed your wrist to stop your movements with the cloth. The air felt suffocating with tension.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Her voice was small, far too small for someone of her stature. You paused your motions, looking her straight in the eye with a steely seriousness.

“I do mean it though, if you held a knife to my throat and asked me to speak the truth I’d simply tell you no man has ever captured my eye, not in the way you did when I first saw you a moment ago.”

Brienne searched your face for any sign of mockery, of jest but found none. Her hand softened its grip around your wrist and you took that as an incentive to move. You leaned forward, kissing her softly at first to test the waters, when her slightly chapped lips started to kiss you back you deepened the action. You brought your hands up to grasp her shoulders, opening your mouth so you could stroke your tongue against hers, every nerve cell in your body igniting with fiery passion. You noticed with much frustration that her hands still lay clenched over her knees, so you pulled back, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment before it snapped. Brienne looked blissed out, her eyes still closed and dewy lips slightly parted, you thought she looked angelic, like a deity come to life. You ran your hand through her hair, teasing the strands until her eyes peeled open to meet yours, you finger traced the line of her bottom lip and you gave her an encouraging smile.

“You can touch me, you know, I’m not made of glass.”

Your hands reached down, grasping her slightly clammy palms to bring them up so they could rest on your waist, her fingers gripped tightly onto your flesh, as if she was afraid you’d disappear. Your own hands came back up to frame her face, moving back in to kiss her once again, this time forgoing gentleness in favour of passion. Your tongues slid against each other and you moved to situate yourself upon her lap, your thighs bracketing her hips on the cot. You felt the tension slowly leave her as she brought a hand up to grip the back of your head, her hand weaving itself into your hair to ground her. Slowly you began to grind your hips against hers, the fabric of her breeches and your dress rubbing deliciously against you as you moaned out, your hands pulling down and digging into her shoulders to ground yourself. She didn’t look any more composed than you, her eyes screwed tightly shut and head tilted back as soft sounds escaped her. Your hips picked up their pace as your own hands dragged down to unlace the ties of her chemise and you broke apart for just a moment to pull it off. Her bare chest met the air and you immediately dove down to wrap your lips around one of her nipples, sucking gently in a way that made her cry out, her hand flying to your shoulder.

Her deft fingers started to unlace the back of your gown and you kissed your way up to her neck so she could reach properly. Once your dress was loose enough she tugged it and your shift underneath over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor below. You felt her hands push softly against your ribcage and you stopped moving, sitting yourself up fully on her hips so she could look at you, no doubt the wetness from your cunt soaking through her breeches. You watched as her eyes darkened when she dragged them over your naked form, your chest heaving for air in the warm space. Neither of you moved for a second until she sprung up, surprising you as she grabbed your arms and flipped you, with no difficulty you thought, your back hitting the soft bedding as she loomed above you. You watched, your legs parting and fingers coming down to rub your clit as she got off the bed and pulled off the last of your clothes, the sight of her bare form making you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. She climbed back onto the bed and you grasped her hand to pull her until she was straddling your thigh. She looked at you then, searching your face for permission.

“Are you certain?”

You only smiled back delighted by her chivalry even in such an intimate moment.

“More certain than I’ve been about anything else in my life.”

With the clarification she lowered herself down, connecting your cunts with a sigh out as she began to move. She held your thigh up, spreading you wider as she rubbed herself against you, the two of you moaning out at the friction. You felt flushed, breathing heavily and gasping each time her clit made contact with hers. Your hands grasped for purchase on the sheets, her arms, your legs before one finally clamped down on her hand on your leg and the other came up to palm your breast, teasing your nipple in a way that made you feel deliriously overstimulated. You opened your eyes t o look up, finding her already staring back down at you, the sight of you there must have done something to her as she began to speed up, chasing her release desperately as you ground yourself back up against her in search of your own. You both came with cries of pleasure and you felt your body go limp on the bed. 

You sank back into the sheets and closed your eyes, feeling the bed shift as Brienne lowered herself to lie next to you. Her arm draped itself over your middle and you tilted your head up so you could kiss her softly again. A lazy smile spread across your lips once you broke apart.

“Hope you have nowhere to go.”

She looked puzzled for a second, while you carded your hands through her short hair, thumb briefly coming up to smooth the furrow between her brows.

“I don’t, can I ask why?”

“Just that I’d be devastated if you were torn away from me so soon after I’d found you.”

You got home far too late for your liking after the library scene. Lyonel’s party had lacked the usual charm and energy that it had when you actually wanted to be there. Aerion had ignored you for most of it, a punishment you figured for the incident in the library for Valarr. You’d spent most of the night nursing a lukewarm cider and feeling guilty. Because despite it all you did feel like you were drawn to Valarr, after all, who wouldn’t be? He was kind, handsome, charming, caring, attentive and a myriad of other qualities that would make up a real life prince charming. He was the kind of guy that had girls embarrassing themselves just to be noticed by him and you couldn’t exactly blame them. When you’d first met him on the first day of term you’d thought he was arrogant and spoiled and kept your distance, nursing what you thought to be one-sided beef with him. He introduced himself to you with the lethargicness of someone who never had to wait around for anything and your jealousy was suffocating. But over the course of these past few days you’ve gotten to know him more than you ever expected to and unfortunately felt yourself bewitched by his charms quicker than you considered possible. This whole situation felt like two trains hurtling towards each other, the collision unavoidable and the damage irreparable. You just had to remind yourself again and again that you were Aerion’s girlfriend, that you should be glad that any Targaryen took interest in you so you can’t be picky and that no matter what you feel for Valarr the most he feels back is friendliness. The feelings will pass, you were certain, if you ignored them enough they would go away. Eventually Aerion declared it was time to leave, not sparing you a second glance as he walked past and you had to rush to grab your things and follow. 

The uber ride back had been awkward to say the least, Aerion quiet, it was never good when he was quiet. He was waiting for you to speak, you knew, making you break the calm so he had the upper hand. 

“Aerion, listen,” He didn’t look at you. “I’m sorry about earlier, I- in the library its just-”

“It’s just you’d rather spend time entertaining my cousin than me.”

At least he was looking at you now, even if his words were dripping with malice. The uber driver coughed, clearly trying his best to pretend he wasn’t listening in on your argument. You felt dreadfully embarrassed at the situation as a whole. 

“No, please listen, we were studying for a project we have together and I lost track of the time, my phone was on silent because of the library rules but if it wasn’t I would’ve left the second I saw your text.”

You pleaded with him to listen, to understand, it was humiliating having to beg for forgiveness like this but what else could you do. He scoffed, and the anxiety in your gut twisted violently.

“You would’ve but you didn’t, should I be worried there's something going on between you and him?”

“No! Aerion I swear he only sees me as a friend and I see him the same way.” You reached to grab his arm, hoping to convey the desperation you had for him to forgive you so you could both move on with your lives. Needing to get the point across you tacked onto the end, “I would never betray you.”

He stared at you truly, his eyes dark with power and lust, it was like having you scared and begging for him turned him on and a cocky grin spread across his face before he looked down his nose at you and spoke.

“Prove it then.”

He crashed his lips against yours, rough and demanding and you had no time to brace yourself as the air was stolen from your lungs. He gripped the back of your head with a ferocity you were familiar with, his nails digging into your scalp painfully.  He only pulled away for a second to instruct the driver that you were just going back to his house instead of dropping you off at yours first. You never normally slept over at his place like this, only ever staying there when it was empty or just going to yours, but you were too intoxicated by his kisses to think about it any further. You suppose this was the way of things, you would mess up, argue, fight, fuck and then make up; it was at least a cycle you were familiar with. 

Valarr hadn’t been sleeping much recently. He felt sick to his stomach most days since what had happened in the library. No matter how much he hated himself for it, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was better than this, he knew he shouldn’t be pining over his cousin’s girlfriend like he was. Yet as he lay in bed late at night he couldn’t stop, there was just something so captivating about you, like the fact you saw beneath the layers of his curated rich boy persona, reducing him to the nervous boy he hadn’t been since he was little. You were such a dynamic person, so beautiful and gentle that it was impossible not to be captivated. It was no wonder Aerion had made you his girlfriend so quickly. He twisted his fingers that were folded across his stomach, staring up at the ceiling of his room. 

You hadn’t been as open as you were before since the library, still friendly with him of course, just lacking the previous intensity and depth. He knew it was most likely because of Aerion, fearing his reaction if you were anything but distant with his cousin. Of course you still worked on the project together, but instead of chatting while you work the space was now filled with tense silence. He tried to reach out and message you when he could, hoping for proper conversation but all he got was dry responses most of the time. Valarr couldn’t help but think that your spark was becoming frighteningly dull, he worried for you and missed the girl that lit up at the mention of her favourite film in the archives of the mayor's office. It certainly didn’t help that Aerion had started to bring you around to the house. He would smirk triumphantly at Valarr as he watched you get yourself breakfast the next morning on shaky legs, what you two had been doing the previous night blatantly clear by the way you avoided eye contact with him and the light marks on your neck.

Thinking of you with Aerion made him angry, Aerion didn’t deserve you, or treat you right. The encounter in the library made that very clear. You needed someone better, someone kind, responsible, mature. Someone like him. His mind supplied the last part unhelpfully, he shouldn’t be thinking like that, Valarr didn’t steal girlfriends, and you definitely weren’t the type to cheat. But why should Aerion get someone so good when he’s so horrid. Again the thoughts came unbidden, he couldn’t help it. Jealousy wasn’t something Valarr was accustomed to, he’d never been a selfish child, his father raised him better. He always had been thought of as the golden child, his cousins were walking, talking thunderstorms and he was the calm. He wanted to be the one to kiss you, to hold you, to take you out to nice places and to call you his. Shouldn’t he get to be selfish just this once? After all he’d done so much for his family and asked so little, this was the only thing his heart wanted. He thought of how vulnerable you looked when you told him about your father; the hitch in your breath, the shake in your voice, the way you hadn’t been able to meet his eye as you played with your fingers. Was it truly a crime if Aerion wasn’t treating you as he should and Valarr just showed you there were other options? It wouldn’t be something malicious, he reasoned, it would be him laying out how he feels to keep you informed, to allow you to see him as a possibility, to decide if you’d rather be with him or Aerion. Plus if you didn’t want him that was fine, he could take rejection and move on, no matter how much his heart ached at the thought. 

He just had to wait for the right time.

Turns out he wouldn’t have to wait long, as the right time came a few days later during one of your internship shifts. 

He picked you up like he normally does and you drove there in only slightly awkward silence. This time he’d made a point to bring you coffee the way you liked it, he’d clearly remembered your order from when you’d told him it in the past and you found yourself blushing slightly at the thought and care behind the gesture. There was a different kind of tension in the air today than there had been before; this one more intense, and had both of your skins tingling with the anticipation for when it would break. You’d been assigned to that damn storage room again, sorting out all the filing cabinets. The task seemed neverending with the way you’d been doing it for the past few weeks with no sight of the end. You’d gotten to work in silence on opposite sides of the room. The storage room was by no means big, yet the space between you felt wider than a river. Valarr was the first to bridge that gap.

“So…watched any new movies lately?” 

You whipped around to look at the sound of his voice, he was stood leaning his back against the cabinets, arms folded lightly across his chest with the sleeves of his thick jumper rolled up so you could see the mouthwatering lines of his forearms. You had to tear your gaze away and will yourself to act normal as you looked into his eyes.

“Huh?”

“Films, have you watched anything new lately?”

Gods, this was awkward. He was trying to make conversation, you knew that, It was just the fact that you feared engaging with him would deepen the pit of infatuation you’d been trying your hardest to get out of these past few weeks. You tried to keep your tone noncommittal when you responded.

“Oh, er no, I haven't had the time recently with studying and everything.” 

He nodded slightly looking away.

“Right.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment more where the very room seemed to hold its breath. You cleared your throat, your brain grasping for anything to say.

“How about you?”

Valarr’s eyes lost their distant look as his attention snapped back into the moment.

“Oh erm no, I’ve been busy as well y’know?” 

“...Right.”

It was almost painful, like the embodiment of nails scratching on a chalkboard as you both looked at each other. Valarr looked at war with himself while watching you, like there was something within him he wanted to say but was afraid of the consequences. You watched as something solidified in his mind and he opened his mouth again, this time more sure of himself.

“Are you okay?”

“What” 

“Just after what happened in the library you’ve been distant and I’ve just been, well, worried about you is all.”

Your heart leapt in your chest at the realisation that he’d been thinking about you and noticing the way you’d been struggling.

“Oh yeah, it’s just been a lot with everything I guess.” 

You gave him an awkward smile that definitely didn’t reach your eyes and spun back around to continue what you were doing, wanting the conversation to be over so you wouldn’t have to keep talking about this. Unfortunately, you’d misjudged your speed and forgotten about your still hot coffee cup on the cabinet and managed to knock it over, burning your arm as you pulled back with a hiss, grasping the burn. Valarr rushed over, grabbing the sides of your arms as he turned you to look at him so he could assess the pain. 

“Are you okay?” There was an urgency to him you hadn’t seen before and your heart jumped again, betraying you despite being in pain. You offered a grimace, hoping to cover up the pain, your skin felt hot where he held you and the closeness was suffocating.

“Yeah I just burned my arm slightly, should be fine.” 

He searched your gaze for another second before exhaling, shoulders dropping in relief.

“I’ll go get some wet paper towels for your arm and some napkins to clean up the spill, stay here okay?” 

“Yeah alright.” You felt breathless as he pulled away. When he was close you could smell his woody cologne and see the different shades of his eyes, getting lost in the oceans of colour even after he pulled away. You felt cold when he was gone and had to curse yourself for the fact you had felt so entirely safe in his arms, in a way you hadn’t felt before.

When he returned you’d expect him to give you the wet paper towel so you could sort yourself out, stepping away from your space to get started on the bit that had spilled onto the floor. However, instead he stepped even closer to you than before, from this distance you could count his freckles and it made the world stand still, even the ever present specs of dust seemed to freeze in place. After setting the dry box of tissues aside, he took your arm out of your grasp with a tenderness that made your breath hitch, carefully rolling up your sleeve for better access to the injury. His other hand ran the cloth over it with a softness that made your stomach backflip and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face. His attention was zeroed in on your arm so you allowed yourself to stare more openly, the soft afternoon light pouring in and enhancing the sharp lines of his jaw. You wanted to smooth out the slight furrow of his brow he had from focusing on you. Eventually the pain in your arm felt less dull yet neither of you pulled away. Valarr lingered, his grip reverent but light and you could feel the turmoil within him from how close you were. You felt the butterflies in your stomach swarming up and up until they escaped with a soft sigh.

“Valarr…”

He heaved out a ragged breath at the sound of his name on your tongue before raising his head to look at you. You searched his face for anything, mostly hoping that it would be devoid of affection, just friendly indifference so you wouldn’t have to deal with what was going on between you. So you could feel the sting of his rejection and move on. Regrettably when he looked up at you all you found in his gaze was a deadly mix of adoration and longing. He put down the cloth and searched your face again, always assessing and calculating his next move while your whole body stopped, waiting for his next move. He breathed out your name as he raised his violently shaky hand to cup your face, the contact sending sparks across your skin as he gave you a moment to pull away. When you didn’t move you watched as something clicked in his mind and he leaned in to connect your lips.

The softness of them wrapped around yours, his very being engulfing yours as his other hand wrapped around your back to gently urge you closer. He wasn’t rushed in his movements, just savouring the feel of you as your hands came up to grip the front of his jumper desperately. Your eyes fluttered shut and you allowed yourself to be overtaken by the sensation of him. This felt like the comfort of rain on old glass windows, of the scent of old books in the university library, like finally finding peace after weathering a great storm. You wanted so deeply to let yourself melt into it fully and give yourself over completely to him.

But you can’t betray Aerion like this.  

The thought hit you suddenly and had you ripping away with a gasp, stumbling slightly as you pushed to get away from him. The room suddenly felt much hotter than before and you gripped your chest to ease the heavy thumping of your heart. 

Valarr was staring at you again, his eyes pleading with you to come back, to not go back to Aerion but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t betray the man that cared for you first just because there was someone slightly more appealing that came along, otherwise you’d be exactly what people thought you were - an opportunistic gold digger.

Valarr said your name softly, reaching out a hand for you so he might beckon you closer but you just shook your head, stepping back and his arms dropped to his sides in defeat. You looked at him, choked up and fighting tears as you willed yourself to speak.

“Valarr…I- I can’t.”

The words hung in the air yet Valarr felt like you’d stabbed them into his gut. The pain drowned him like the violent currents of a river and it was all he could do to stand and watch as you grabbed your things and rushed out the room.

Taglist: @odiodina @asharad @mismwaa @senatorpadmeamidala @jordaniyaa @violetletovi @cemeterycrow @milkandmoss

Aerion Targaryen was a prince of the realm. From the day of his birth he’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted or needed, no questions asked. The world appeared to revolve around him. When he’d met you that day during some royal feast for something or another and you had denied his offer of a dance that he had not even wanted to do, having been forced by his father, he’d realised he was going to make you his.  

He’d been struck by your audacity at first, denying a dragon something so publicly was cause for great punishment. Though the more he thought about it, the way the fire ignited in his chest at your challenging gaze, when you stared at his expectant palm before uttering a simple ‘no thank you, my prince’ and turning back to your friend, leaving him standing there like a fool. He’d sought you out the next day, cornering you in the garden under the guise of you making up for your lost dance. However when he’d said this to you, you’d only scoffed saying that there was nothing to make up for, that you owed him nothing and had better things to do. He’d stayed still for a long moment after you’d left him there, the scent of you curling around him as again that same fire ignited in his chest. He liked the challenge, he’d realised, and the desire to make you bend to his will clouded his senses. You brought out the dragon in him, made his flames stronger and that was something he couldn’t let fall from his grasp. He knew you’d never accept him outright. You turned up your nose whenever he approached, lips curling in a way that began to haunt his dreams, he dreamt about kissing them, biting into the plush flesh there until they bled and the warm flavour of your blood engulfed his mouth. 

He just had to bide his time, wait carefully and plan his next moves wisely. It began with the suitors. He knew he wasn’t the only one to notice your beauty, he wasn’t an idiot, he just didn’t expect the sheer quantity and relentlessness of them. Whenever he watched you, which was frankly a lot, there’d always be some minor Lord’s son tripping over himself like a bumbling fool for your attention. His gaze would always linger on your barely concealed disgust as you dismissed whoever it was with a backhanded remark shrouded in fake courtesy. Your soul was fire and it astounded him you didn’t bear the targaryen name, not yet you didn’t at least his mind would always supply helpfully. The least he could do was get these men out of your vicinity, it also helped that it benefited his plan greatly of course. You began to notice the dwindling number of men crowding for your attention, mixed with the scalding gaze of Aerion Targaryen that you pointedly ignored. He’d begun lingering closer you’d realised; pushing the lines of propriety through lustful gazes that lacked subtlety and movements that had him leaning into your space more than you deemed necessary. People had of course noticed, Prince Aerion was a fearsome figure, kept under the surveillance of most due to his temperament so his out of character behaviour had not gone unobserved. They’d whispered scandalous things, swirling rumours of you and the prince, that you’d seduced him. 

That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

The truth of it was that you’d heard of his cruel nature and determined that becoming a princess wasn’t worth tethering yourself to a man of such inhumanity. That avoiding him and his interest was the best course of action. You had thought that denying him a dance at the feast would be all that was needed, humiliating him in front of the court and his family would leave a bitterness in his mouth at the sight of you so strong he’d have to turn away and never look back. But then he found you in the gardens, his cold calculating gaze tracing over you with the hunger of a dragon. The cold dagger of malice you plunged into his chest again and again only seemed to be a lever for him to pull himself closer to you. You had captured the beast’s attention and you did not know how to shake it. He was planning something, that you knew, though what it was you couldn’t understand. You had told your father that should Prince Aerion try to come to him with an offer of marriage that he was to deny it and if he didn’t you would slit your own throat before you could ever make it to the altar. Your father had of course laughed it off, thinking it to be a joke. Because who wouldn’t want to marry a prince of the realm?

It didn’t help that your own mind was beginning to betray you. Where once fear and disgust was all that you felt when you thought of the prince, now a dangerous potion of anticipation, unease and desire had begun to brew. Every time he leaned into your space and your lungs were seized by his spicy perfume your heart jumped. Every time he brushed against you and your hands met the soft skin of his along with the cold bite of his rings a shiver traced its way down your spine. You didn’t understand it; how was it possible that you could hate him so but still need to ravage him so severely all at once? 

These emotions had frankly drained you and you found yourself leaving tonight's celebrations early so you could get some rest. You’d felt the scorching heat of his stare as you left, unyielding, unwavering and feeding the raging inferno in your chest as you walked down the empty corridors. The only issue is it hadn’t left you once you’d exited the hall, or more accurately he had followed you. You heard the steps behind you, solid, rhythmic, calculated. You ignored them walking at a steady pace, you just had to reach your room-

“Are you well, my lady?”

His voice was even, fake concern dripping from every syllable. You stopped and turned to him but he did not do the same. He kept walking until he was a hair's breadth away, crowding into your space that had your head spinning with his intensity. He looked at you like you were prey, like was a mere predator toying with his food. He studied you intently, barely hiding his lust.

“I asked you a question.”

You blinked irritation overcoming you once again as you glared at him. 

“I’m perfectly fine. I just found the company in the room to be particularly… stifling.”

He chuckled at that slow menacing grin stretching across his lips as he stepped even more into your space. His hand running up the length of your arm before gripping your elbow with possessive determination. His voice was low when he spoke again.

“I do suppose you would be stifled by the boars in that room, they know nothing of true enjoyment.”

You met his tone with searing venom.

“It is not them I speak of.”

His gaze hardened, that familiar passion blazing in his chest. He didn’t waste a moment, crashing his lips against yours and swallowing your noise of surprise as he pushed you until your back met the cold stone of the wall behind you. You didn’t move for a few moments, the urge to push him away and slap him warring with the deep inexplicable desire within you. Eventually it was clear which side won out as you reached to grasp him, one hand on his shoulder and one in his hair, yanking him roughly back by the strands. He gasped out, a shocked moan leaving him as your roughness while you forced your tongue into his mouth, both of you battling for dominance while his hands furiously grasped at your dress. He pulled back for air but you didn’t let him go far, teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he tried to escape. He groaned loudly and your tongue invaded his mouth again to taste the blood there. You pulled back and smiled at him impishly, his blood on your lips and teeth. The sight made him frenzied, he dove back in to kiss your neck, sucking and biting harshly at the skin there. The feeling of it caused your head to fly back, colliding with the stone behind you in an ache that overwhelmed you, the pain combining with the pleasure in a dizzying whirlwind. 

“Aerion.” You gasped, “Touch me.”

It was a command you’d summoned the last of your coldness for. He’d stopped, looking up at you with more of that false concern that made your blood boil. His tone was laced with mischief as he tried to keep up his facade. 

“Are you certain my lady, what if someone sees? Your honor would be compromised”

You ground your teeth, he didn’t truly care about propriety and you both knew damn well where this was going no matter what.

“Fuck honor. Give me what I want.”

The heat in him burned impossibly brighter as he grinned before complying with a torturous lack of speed. One of his lithe hands had begun to grasp your skirts tugging them up until he could finally grip the flesh of your thigh. His hand found the heat between your legs and the soft pads of his fingers started to circle your clit with a deliberate slowness that had you writing in his grasp. His other hand reached down to hold your hip, slamming you back against the wall to keep you still. He continued to kiss along your neck, before reaching your ear to whisper scandalous encouragement to you. You felt as the hand still between your legs parted your folds, gathering the wetness there before two of them started to push inside you, his thumb circling your clit all the while to allow him easier access. You gasped out harshly and his lips claimed yours again. He kissed you hard, denying you air as you became lightheaded. His fingers had started to drag in and out of you curling just slightly as they did. The heel of his palm began to grind against you and you slapped the hand that had gripped his shoulder over your mouth as you broke away from him to cover the noise. As soon as you did that however his ministrations stopped and he pulled back to look at you sternly. 

“Take your hand off your mouth or I’ll leave you here now like the desperate whore you are.”

You took a shaky breath before complying, staring him down as you placed your trembling hand back on his chest, the coarse fabric of his doublet only grounding you slightly. His lips curled sadistically as he watched and he gave an experimental grind of his hand that had you crying out.

“Good girl.” 

He started up again, this time his movements faster, rougher, his hand on your hip moving to pull up your thigh so he could reach deeper inside you. You felt your peak fast approaching and your noises get louder in response. He leaned in close to your ear before whispering to you again, the threat piercing into you and causing your core to clench around him.

“I’m going to make you mine, and we shall see then whether you still treat me so cruelly.” 

He nipped your earlobe as he pulled away, his teeth digging a touch too tight and the pain caused your orgasm to rip through you with a flash of hot white intensity.

Your breathing was ragged as he pulled out of you, not going far and not even bothering to fix your skirts properly as he started you down, lifting his soaked fingers to his lips to suck your come off them. Once he was satisfied he took his still wet hand grasping the back of your head to connect you again, making you taste yourself on his tongue. You didn’t have time to think about the taste before a shocked gasp interrupted you and you tore yourself away from him.

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach as you saw your father and Prince Maekar just down the corridor, a maid with them that must have led them to you. 

“Aerion.” Prince Maekar said, eyeing his son wearily as Aerion stepped back from you lazily, seemingly unaffected by being caught. 

“Father.”

Your father looked furious and turned his ire onto the young prince. 

“You have ruined my daughter, taken her virtue.” His eyes settled back on you though shame did not let them stay for long before moving back to Aerion. “You must marry her, swear yourself to her before anyone catches wind of this scandal.”

Your breath caught, this was exactly what you had been meaning to avoid. You’d just have to let your lust win out. Surely Prince Aerion would reject the offer now his game was over. 

“I accept.” 

The words shocked you again, the night feeling as if one never ending labyrinth of surprises. Your father nodded and moved to pull you away, his grip harsh though you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift back to your now betrothed. When your eyes met his you suddenly realised; the maid had not found you by accident, he’d planned this all along, and you’d walked right into the trap.

You had just gotten into the bathtub when your husband finally stumbled through the doors of your shared chambers. He had been caught up all day with some formal business with his father that had required him to remain sober and the toll it had taken on him was clear. His hands were shaky, his movements sluggish, his eyes teary and distant and his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. You watched as his eyes scanned the room until they landed on you and watched as his shoulders sagged in the relief of finding your comforting presence, yet still he did not move. You sighed and reached out a hand which he promptly walked over and took.

“You look as if you just faced the seven themselves, my husband.” You breathed, not wanting to break the careful silence as you swept your thumb across the back of his hand reassuringly. He offered you a halfhearted smile and your heart cried for him.

“I feel as if I have, gods, is there any wine in here?" 

It was rare to see him sober and vulnerable like this and you did not wish to lose him so his drunken state yet. You tugged on his hand again to get his attention.

“Perhaps you can join me in the bath while we wait for the servants to bring some up? It may be nice for you to wash the aches of the day away and I know I’d enjoy the company.”

He actually smiled at that before releasing your hand to begin undoing the clasp of his cloaking, taking the rest of his clothes off with shaky hands as you watched him. Once he was fully bare he stepped into the large tub with you, sinking into the waters at the opposite end. His eyes settled on you and a weary grin spread across his lips, you couldn’t help but flush as the sight was agonisingly attractive. 

“You’re so far away,” He murmured, hand finding your ankle under the waters to urge you closer to him, “I’ve missed you while I was gone, don’t make me miss you more now i’m here.” 

You smiled at his neediness and moved closer, settling yourself on your knees between his open legs. You wordlessly brought your hands up to cradle either side of his face, sweeping your thumbs across the apples of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered closed and a sigh escaped him at the contact. His hand slid delicately up your body under the water until it was resting on your lower back, gently pushing in a silent beg you couldn’t ignore. You leaned forward to slowly connect your lips. The kiss was slow and unhurried, slightly sloppy most likely due to exhaustion. You stayed tangled for a long moment before pulling back, ignoring the sound of protest from Daeron as you reached for the soap on the table next to the bath. 

He watched you intently as you brought the rosemary scented soap into the water to wet it before beginning to lather it gently onto his broad chest. His arms that were still resting lazily on your hips began to trace small circles on your flesh and it took everything in your to pretend the motion wasn’t making you melt. You ran the bar of soap along his biceps and watched as his head fell back against the rim of the tub as his eyes fluttered shut. The tantalising line of his neck was exposed and you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned in to start kissing along it, lightly nipping at the skin there as he hummed. 

“I thought we were in here to wash.” 

He peeked an eye open and tilted his head down to look at you. Smiling slightly as he spoke.

“I can multitask.” 

You couldn’t keep the mischief out of your voice and you ran your freehand back across his firm chest. His hands tightened on your hips and your breath caught. You watched as he hummed and dragged one of his hands up your arm and along to your hand so he could take the soap. You looked at him confused and he just gestured for you to turn around. 

“At least let me wash you before we multitask or else we’ll never get clean.” 

You nodded, smiling as you maneuvered yourself so your back was to his chest. He dragged his lips across your shoulders gently before moving to kiss up your neck. One of his hands began rubbing the soap he’d lathered on his palms into the planes of your back while the other wrapped around your waist to keep you close while he worked. Eventually his free hand left you to get more soap before it drifted round to join the other at your front and they massaged it into the flesh of your stomach. You relaxed back against his front fully, your core clenching as his hands slid up to massage your breasts slowly. You let your head fall back and a breathy moan escaped when he leant in to continue sucking on the skin there. You gasped as he found that particularly sensitive spot behind your ear right as his hand slid down between your legs, nimble fingers parting your lips before he dragged them through your folds. The other hand at your breast had begun to circle and pinch your nipple and you felt your mind begin to cloud over from the sensations. When the soft pads of his index and middle fingers found your pearl a loud moan tore out your throat, your hips beginning to squirm from the ministrations. 

He played you like a bard plays a lute, with deft skill and a laziness typical of him. He touched you as if he had all the time in the world and it very nearly made you believe like you did. You reached up to grasp the hair at the back of his so you could turn it to connect your lips, the kiss sloppy and slow, tongues mashing together desperately. You broke apart with a gasp as his fingers slid inside of you, beginning a slow drag in and out against your walls, curling slightly as his palm ground against your clit. Your back arched desperately and you felt his quickly stiffening cock against your backside and couldn’t resist grinding back against it. He continued to move his fingers within you as you clenched around him and his other hand finally released your breasts to move up your body until you felt two fingers press against your bottom lip, begging for entry. You welcomed them in and sucked on them, earning yourself a groan from him as his hips started to grind back up against you. The water of the tub was sloshing against the sides of the tub and down onto the stony floor below as your movements grew more frantic and you came closer to your peak. His fingers left your mouth to grip the side of his face so he could kiss you properly and you came intensely with a cry against his lips, the sensation eclipsing your whole body as your legs shook.

When you drew apart to rest your forehead against his you huffed out a breath. The water was lukewarm by now and both of you were beginning to prune up from being in the water so long. You ran your fingers through the damp tresses of his hair and you whispered against his lips.

“Let's go to bed.”

You stood from his lap on shaky legs, taking his hand in yours as your supple flesh was exposed to the cold air. He seemed entranced, eyes tracing the droplets that raced down your neck and over the now stiff peaks of your nipples. His hand shook in yours and you had to give it a light tug to properly get his attention. He stood, towering over you in the tub and you stepped out carefully, your eyes not parting from his. The hunger in them was intoxicating and you had to turn away from him as you led him back to your bedchamber. Once you reached the grand four poster bed you turned so you could push him back onto it and he took the cue to shuffle up so his head was resting against the plush velvet pillows. You crawled your way up over him, your damp hair falling wildly and making you look as feral as you felt. He watched you wordlessly, his hands clenching and unclenching in the fabric of the covers as he fought the urge to reach out and tug you closer. Once you were finally on top of him you bent down to connect your lips again, kissing him roughly as you finally lowered your hips to rub up and down the length of him, coating him with your wetness. He groaned into your mouth and his hand finally came up to grasp you, a hand in your hair and the other between your shoulder blades to push you closer. Eventually you disconnected your lips and reached back to line him up with your entrance, sinking down with a gasp at the stretch. Daeron didn’t look any better as his head flew back into the pillows with a loud moan, jaw hanging open as you clenched around him. You sat up straight, bracing your hands on his chest for leverage and started to rock yourself against him. His hands flew to your hips, gripping hard into the flesh in a way you were certain would leave marks. His eyes were sealed shut as he panted at the feel of you. 

“Daeron, my love,” He whimpered at the sound of your voice and you had to bite back a grin, “open your eyes darling, I wish to see you.”

He clearly struggled but his eyes fluttered open cautiously, a loud groan escaped as he locked onto the sight of your naked body grinding against his. You felt his hands tighten as he began to move you so you were bouncing up and down on him. You choked and one of your hands slipped from his chest to grasp the bedding next to his head as you keeled over, his cock reaching new depths within you. Your breasts were just above his face and he couldn’t resist as he pushed himself up with one arm so he could enclose his lips around one of your nipples again. Your hand that was on his chest flew up to hold his head against you as you practically cried out.

“Gods Daeron you’re so fucking good I love you s’much!”

His reaction was instantaneous as you felt his dick jump inside of you and his lips suck particularly harshly into the flesh of your chest, most likely leaving a mark. You slammed down on him harder as you felt yourself getting closer to your climax once again. From the way he was breathing raggedly you could tell he wasn’t far off either, you felt as his wet tears hit your skin from the overwhelming sensations. You grasped the hand that wasn’t supporting him to move it down to rub against your clit once more, bringing you over the edge with a cry that had you collapsing onto him. You felt his cum fill you moments later as he followed behind you. 

You both lay panting on top of each other for a moment before Daeron carefully rolled you over to lay you on your back so he could fetch a wet cloth from the washroom. He gently rubbed it over you, cleaning you up as you watched him, too blissed out to do anything else. Eventually he settled into the bed, pulling the covers over the top of the two of you as you rested your head on his chest, a leg slung over his hip and your fingers tracing little shapes into his skin. It was achingly quiet for a moment before he broke the silence.

 “A clever little trick, distracting me from the wine.” He breathed out as he stroked your hair. You lifted your head up to rest your chin on his chest as you gave him a sheepish look.

“Sorry…”

He chuckled, the sound filled with warmth and your guilt dissipated slightly.

“Don’t apologise my love, this was far more enjoyable.”

You forced your eyes closed, but sleep could not come easy with the weight of that realization on your chest.

Perhaps you should avoid the Cockleswhent. It was a thought that felt foolish to entertain, but if you hadn't been at the stream.. you wouldn't have met Valarr. If you hadn't met him, he wouldn't have wished to ask for your favor. If he hadn't, Aerion wouldn't have cornered you. A part of you doubted that it would have stopped him. A prince would always get what he wanted, even if what he wanted was someone else.

You turned in bed for what felt like days. It could not have been more than an hour or two, but your mind could not seem to slow for even a moment. You were still glad to have met Valarr, you thought. Even if it meant all of this business with Aerion. Valarr was good. That was what mattered. Little men like his cousin wanted only attention. He would get it.. but not from you, you decided. You would remain cordial, but you refused to give in to him.

You heard rustling from outside of your quarters.. and then talking. The words were muffled through the fabric of the tent, but it was still loud enough to keep you awake. You were almost grateful to hear something. Something to distract you from your own thoughts. Even if it came at the expense of precious hours of sleep before the jousting resumed in the morning.

You groaned as you sat up in bed, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as you rose onto your feet. You'd changed into a comfortable nightgown. Thin and breathable, but still modest enough for a lady of your status. You peeked out of your quarters and into the main, private section of the Redwyne tent. Your fathers sleeping space was close to your own. A guard remained posted at the entrance to your room, but he did not even turn to look at you.

The young man's gaze was focused on something else. You followed it, and your eyes landed on a young boy. Bald.. he could not be older than nine or ten. He sat across from your father, his hands folded over his lap as he sat in a chair far too big for him. You squinted. The colors on his doublet.. red and black. The colors of the dragon house. You nearly sighed at even the sight of it. What could have possibly happened now?

You tried to lean closer in an attempt to listen to their conversation. Your fathers arms rested on the table, his jaw clenched together.

"There will be a Trial of Seven." The boy— the prince— said.

"A Trial of Seven?" Your father repeated.

The little prince's head bobbed. He looked nervous. Scared. "My brother, Aerion. He attacked an innocent puppeteer earlier this evening. He broke her finger." He explained.

Your father's eyes narrowed, and he shifted in his seat. You searched through your memory for information on the Trial of Seven. It was an old practice. You knew that from your studies. Though the specific details of it were lost on you. You thought one had happened over a hundred years ago, but you could not remember the participants. You supposed it wouldn't be very helpful.

"Ser Duncan the Tall— he protected the innocent, as every true knight should. He punched Aerion, and then kicked him. He is injured, but his injuries are not so severe." He told your father.

"Who?" Your father asked, brows furrowed.

You couldn't recall the name of the knight either.

"He is a noble hedge knight." He offered simply.

Your father blinked. "He.. what?"

"Ser Duncan needs six other men to fight with him in the trial against my brother and his six." The prince continued, completely brushing over your father's words. He sat just a little straighter in the chair. "I.. have come to ask if you would fight for him."

"Me?"

The prince nodded again.

Your father chuckled, shaking his head. "I stopped fighting a long time ago, little one." He breathed out.

"You were a great knight. A great jouster."

"I was." He agreed.

"But you won't fight for him?"

He sighed. His hand pressed into his knee, his thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. "A Trial of Seven.. that means fight until death or surrender."

"It does." The prince confirmed.

Your father wet his lips, staring off at the ceiling above him. "How many do you have?" He asked.

".. One."

He turned his head to look back at him. "One?" He repeated.

"Two.. if you join us. I have others to ask, I.. haven't gotten to them yet."

"Seven help us," your father whispered under his breath.

A pit formed in your stomach. Your father was a talented knight in his time. Though it had long passed. He hadn't even jousted anymore, for your mothers fear was too great. How would she feel if she could see him now? It didn't matter, you thought grimly. She has been dead for years.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. He was honorable, and kind. He was just.

"Please." The prince said softly. "Ser Duncan.. he should not lose his life because he did what was right."

Your father stared back at him, unmoving. The boy held his breath. You glanced at the guard who stood next to you. He could not seem to tear his attention away. You couldn't blame him for it.

He sighed, pressing his lips together. "I brought my armor." He breathed out. The prince's shoulders relaxed. Yours tensed. "I did not know why. I have not worn it in years." He chuckled. "I suppose I knew. I would need it." He paused. "I will fight for your.. Ser Duncan the Tall, Prince Aegon. You have my word." He murmured.

You watched the young boy. He wore a smile, clearly relieved. "It begins upon the morrow, at the tourney field." He told him.

"I will be there." Your father replied.

You couldn't listen to any more of their conversation.

You slipped back into your room, your breathing heavy and your heart even heavier. Your father had agreed to fight. A little prince had come to him, out of all of the other men at the tourney. Your father was not a particularly young man anymore. The Gods were cruel, you thought. The old and the new. What sort of God would let this happen? Perhaps it made you selfish. You could not find it within yourself to care about that at all. Not now— not when your father's life would be in danger.

You could not sleep, no matter how hard you tried to. Your mind raced with thoughts of the future. Of Aerion. Of Valarr. Of your own father.

You wished you had never come to Ashford.

The morning came slowly.

It had come up upon you quietly. The air was different. People were quieter as they walked by. The cheer of the previous day had completely diminished, and it had been replaced with something much heavier.

You felt nothing but dread as you forced yourself out of bed. Your father was not even aware of your presence last night, you were sure.. and the conversation that you anticipated was not one you looked forward to. You wondered if he would try to soften the blow, as he used to do when you were a girl. He had left thirteen years ago to fight in the Blackfyre rebellion. You were not sure what it all meant at the time. You knew only that he would be gone, and that there was a chance that he would never return.

Your ladies helped to dress you again. There was no chatter from them, and they looked up at you with sad eyes as if they already knew what was to happen. You couldn't stomach looking at them, so you kept your gaze focused on the fabric of the tent that surrounded you, your expression entirely blank.

You walked out of your quarters, your hands held together in front of you. You wore a beautiful purple gown— the color representative of the grapes of your houses sigil— and matching thin gloves that went up to your mid arm. You could not bare the idea of even seeing your father. You knew that you needed to. The conversation that was to come would be an important one.. and you could not afford to have regrets, should something go awry in the trial. You had half the mind to try to convince him to back out. You knew him better than that, though. Once he had set his mind to something, there was no changing it.

Your father wore his armor already.

He was fixing his vambraces when he set his eyes on you, and he stared at you with a small smile. You couldn't return it. You stood there wordlessly watching him. You couldn't move, and you could not think of anything to say. You didn't know what to say. You weren't supposed to know what was happening at all, but you knew your father already that you were aware of it all.

"How much did you hear, daughter?" He finally spoke, voice breaking through the silence.

"Enough." You murmured, your lips pressed together. You pulled at the end of your glove with a thumb, biting at the inside of your cheek.

He nodded. He sucked at his teeth for a moment, then moved to sit. "Come." He told you, gesturing to the chair across from him. You couldn't argue, and so you did as you were told and joined him at the table. You sat in the same seat the little prince had been in last night.

"Then you know what is to happen?"

"Why are you doing this?" You asked him, your brows knitted together. "This is hardly your problem to solve, father."

"Perhaps not, but the boy was right. The hedge knight did what all sworn knights are supposed to do."

You rubbed your forehead, squeezing your eyes closed as you leaned into the table. "This has nothing to do with you—" you argued.

"It has everything to do with me." He retorted quickly. "If I do not fight, who will? Who will stand up for what is right?" He asked you, his expression mirroring your own. You looked up at him through a gap in your fingers.

"I would hope someone else." You replied.

"You are not so naive, my daughter." He whispered sadly.

"No." You admitted after a long moment of silence. "This is not fair."

Your father chuckled, a reassuring grin on his lips. "Life is not fair." He told you. He'd told you the same sentence a long time ago back home on the island of the Arbor. Life was not fair, but it was surely much simpler then.

"I.. are you sure about doing this? I am sure they would understand if you were to decide against it."

"I am sure." He said firmly. His tone left no room for argument, and you slumped into your seat. You felt like a little girl again.

"You told me only yesterday that I was your only daughter. You said that you worry for me, and—"

"This is different."

"Is it?" You replied, eyes narrowed as you watched him. "Just as I am your only daughter, you are my only father. The only one I have ever known— the only one I will ever have. Just as you worry for me, I worry for you. It has been years since you have even picked up a sword, and now you.. you go charging off to face House Targaryen in a trial that does not end until surrender or death."

Your father said nothing.

"It has been years, father. Where does this come from?"

He pressed his lips together, and took in a breath. It was clear that he did not expect you to question him so intently.

"It is the right thing to do. That's all there is. Does there have to be more?" He asked you quietly, eyes finding your own once again.

"It feels like there should be." You admitted. You knew in your heart that there was nothing else. No ulterior motive. No reason for him to join in an attempt to gain something. It was possible he could lose his life in this battle. Your father was not the type to fight for glory. But for honor.. you turned your gaze down.

"It will be all right." He murmured. You heard him stand, but you could see nothing through your blurry vision. Your eyes had begun to well up with tears. Tears that you hadn't even noticed at all when they had started to form. You felt his hand take your own from your lap, but you could not feel the warmth of his skin through his armor. You sniffled. He used his other hand to lift your chin.

"Look at me, daughter." He said, forcing a smile. You moved your head up to find his face through your emotions. "I promise you.. it will be all right."

You nodded, lifting your free hand to attempt to wipe your cheeks dry.

You knew that promises were empty. They could never truly be kept, even if the one making the promise intended to do so. Life was unfair, you thought again, and the Gods were cruel.

"Smile." He chuckled, tucking a hair behind your ear. "It will give this old man the courage he needs to face his foes." He joked. You managed a smile at that comment. He would always find a way to cheer you up, even in the most impossible of scenarios.

"You have the courage, father. You need nothing from me."

"I'd like to see my girl smile." He replied, his gaze softening as he set it upon your face. He looked at you for a long moment— almost like he was memorizing your features before it was too late. You pushed that thought aside. He would see you again. The Gods would smile upon him.

"Come with me to the tourney field. See me off. But don't stay to watch." He spoke again. "I'm sure the sights will not be pretty." He chuckled dryly.

"You'd prefer I leave you?"

"You should not have to see fourteen men beat each other bloody." He stated simply. "You are a lady, and—"

"A grown one, father. I will do as I please."

He nodded. "I expected nothing less. You're a lot like your mother, in that sense."

"And a lot like you, I'm afraid."

"That's enough." He laughed, rolling his eyes. He knew you were right. He was always a stubborn man, and he'd only proved it even further with his refusal to even think about backing out of the trial. You pressed your lips into a small smile, hoping it was enough to quell his worries. You knew it wasn't enough to help yours.

You stepped out of the tent and into the grass outside. The air was still warm, but the atmosphere was different. Ever since last night, it seemed that everything had changed. You supposed it would be more surprising if nothing had changed at all. The first Trial of Seven was being held in the last one hundred years. This moment would be in history books. The name of your father would be there. You could only hope that his name was not accompanied with a sentence describing how he died in the fighting.

You walked with your father towards the tourney field, your arm wrapped around his own. You let yourself wish for a moment that he would change his mind on the way there, but he remained entirely silent. His armor fit him a bit tighter than it used to, you noticed. You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned away.

A crowd had already gathered. Noble lords and ladies filled the stands once again. Small folk littered the grasses around the mud. The jousting lanes had been completely removed, and all you could see was a flat, empty field. A few other figures gathered together. You saw the antlered helm of Lyonel Baratheon even from where you stood. Was he fighting for this hedge knight? If the young prince had managed to find skilled knights to help.. perhaps everything would turn out fine.

Your father glanced at you. "Are you sure you wish to stay?"

You could not respond. You didn't wish to watch anyone get hurt. Especially your father.

He lifted an armored hand to your face, and rubbed your cheek as gently as he could. "My daughter.. I will see you after this has ended." He smiled. "You should return to the tent." He told you softly. You could only bring yourself to nod.

"May.. may the Warrior watch over you, father."

"Thank you." He murmured. He lingered for a moment, but he did manage to turn on his heel and walk towards the others in the distance. Your jaw clenched, and you sniffled. You were left completely alone, now. You stood there, watching him leave. You felt a weight in your chest. You tried your best to push it aside.

You did not want to be in the stands, surrounded by strangers. It was one thing to be there with your father, but you could not bare to see them treat him like a spectacle. Your feet remained anchored in place.

Aerion must have assaulted that puppeteer almost immediately after he'd left you by the stream. You wondered why he had done it. The prince had left out what had led up to it. You doubted that it would matter. Aerion was vain and cruel. He needed no real reason to attack someone. He had most likely decided to do it because he was bored. Perhaps he wanted to take his anger out on someone. A commoner— because you were a noble woman. You felt guilty.

You forced yourself to move. The walk back to the Redwyne pavilion was long and quiet. Most had gone to watch the carnage of the trial, and you had almost turned back once you were halfway there. Your father would not wish for you to see it, and you didn't want to make him worry about you when he should be worrying about himself. You told yourself that you returned to the tent for his sake, but deep down, you knew it was mostly for your own.

You sat down outside, tossing your gloves onto the nearest table. The bench you rested on had become familiar to you over the past few days. You sighed and leaned back into the wood behind you. All you could think about was the trial. Your chest felt tight as you tried to force your muscles to relax, but no matter how hard you thought about it, it did not come.

"My lady?"

Your eyes opened quickly, and you returned to a formal posture befitting of a lady.

Valarr.

He stared back at you with beautiful mismatched eyes. He was not wearing his armor. You blinked.

"I.. my prince." You whispered back to him. "What are you doing here?"

"The same as you, I suppose." He replied. His shoulders were not as straight as they usually were. His shoulders slouched. His gaze was not as warm as it was yesterday. Something was wrong. "I wished to.. escape the trial." He chuckled dryly.

"I had assumed you would fight for your cousin." You admitted. Valarr shook his head. He bit at the inside of his cheek, and moved a bit closer to you. You shifted in your seat, giving him enough room to join you on the bench. He joined you without hesitation. His shoulder brushed against yours.

"My uncle wished for it, I'm sure. But Aerion has his six without me." He told you softly. He hadn't turned to look at you. His attention remained on the trees in the distance.

"You.. do not want to watch?"

"I do not."

"I understand." You breathed out, turning your eyes to the ground. You picked at the skin around your nails anxiously, your thoughts lingering back to your father.

"My father fights for Ser Duncan." Valarr admitted.

You looked up at him. "What?"

"I tried to convince him otherwise. He did not wish to hear of it. He asked for my armor. I let him have it." He continued, his voice only getting quieter the more he talked. He almost looked ashamed. "I should have offered to fight in his place."

"Valarr," you whispered his name. You rested your hand on top of his own. Only then did he turn to face you. You did not know how he managed to get more handsome with every time you saw him. You had never seen him this close, either.

Freckles. He had freckles.

You paused, your lips parting as your eyes trailed over his features. You finally came to your senses. Your face hot under his gaze.

"My father.. he fights for the hedge knight as well." You said. "I tried to do the same. But.. he is as stubborn as they come. He was set on it."

"It seems.. both of our fathers are fools, then."

"They are good men." You whispered instead.

Valarr sniffled, but nodded. You knew it was something he was aware of already. You said nothing else. The birds were eerily quiet, and the only thing you could hear was the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.

"I should have volunteered myself. I should have insisted I fight." He broke through the silence after a long few moments. "I should not have let my father.."

"Valarr.. I cannot pretend to know your father." You started, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. "Though if he is anything like mine.. he would not have let you. Men are.. set in their ways. And they are protective of their sons." You whispered.

You watched him chew at the inside of his lip. You couldn't tell what he was thinking. You couldn't pretend to even have the faintest idea of what was going on in his head.

"You are probably right." He admitted after a pause. He smiled suddenly, laughter escaping from his lips. "My jousts.. the opponents I face— they are never men of great renown. They are all old. Knights who have long passed their prime." Valarr muttered, a sigh escaping from him. "I have never known why. I have wished to be paired against true fighters for as long as I have been able to hold a lance, let alone compete in a tourney. But it has never happened. I have always wondered if my father was behind it."

You watched him silently, wordlessly. You comforted him through touch alone, your skin against his. His hand was shaking. You grasped it just a bit tighter.

"My father is a great knight himself. He is a war veteran. He fought at the Redgrass field. And what has his son done? Defeated old men in a game they barely qualify for?" He wondered aloud. "What could I have done in this trial?" He whispered to himself. "I have no real experience. I would have made myself look like a fool."

You could not come up with anything to say. Your eyes found his. His gaze softened as he looked back at you.

"You are right. He would not have let me fight." He concluded.

You were entirely unaware of everything he had told you. You would not have known that his jousts were played up if he had not admitted it to you. It was clear it was something he hated. Fathers would go to great lengths to protect their children. Just as yours had done for you.

"Did Aerion.." He broke the silence once again. "Did he do anything to you?"

You should have seen this coming. "He.. paid me a visit by the Cockleswhent last night." You told him. You did not want to worry him any further. You knew he carried a heavy weight today. Though you doubted that he would wish for you to hide anything from him. Even if it was done for good a good reason.

"What happened?"

"He.. asked me if I was bored of you." You told him truthfully.

He nodded. He said nothing in response. You didn't know if it was because he had nothing to say, or because he did not know what to say at all. It was still clear he was upset by the look on his face.

"I am not bored of you." You confessed to him, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "If I was, I would not be sitting here with you now."

"What else?" Valarr asked you quietly.

You looked towards the sky. It was gray and cloudy. Not an ounce of sunlight slipped through. The air was still warm, but a chill nipped at your skin regardless. "He told me that he would not bore me. That he could give me whatever I wished for." You paused.

"Did he touch you?" He whispered. He sounded worried. Fearful. Almost afraid to hear your answer.

"No." You shook your head. "He.. touched my hair. His lips barely felt my skin."

Valarr watched you, a sadness in his eyes. You adored his eyes. You could not stand to see him looking so upset.

"He has touched you." He concluded. "I am sorry." He breathed out, wetting his lips. "It was a risk— asking you for your favor. I should have known that it would attract his attention. He has never been fond of me. I.. should have expected for him to stoop so low."

"This is not your fault." You said, your voice soft but still firm.

"If I had not—"

"I would not change it." You told him. "I would give you my favor again. Even if it meant dealing with Aerion a million times over. I would do it all over again."

He let out an unsteady breath, but his eyes did not leave yours. "What have I done to deserve that?" He asked you.

You chuckled. "You have been yourself."

He stared back at you. You felt exposed under his focus too, but Valarr did not make you uncomfortable like Aerion had. He never did. He made you feel like a blushing young girl instead of the grown woman you were. No one else had ever managed to make you feel so flustered by merely a look.

"Stay with me, Valarr." You found yourself saying. He looked at you, expression unreadable. "Stay.. until we know our fathers are well."

He said nothing for a long moment.

His shoulder bumped against yours.

"Stay." He repeated. "I think I can do that."

You smiled up at him. He returned it.

In spite of it all, you knew that this one was genuine.

notes: this part is about 4.8k words! i had a lot of fun with this one. i'm still not sure what i want to do about baelor's fate. i think it could still be interesting for him to die, but i don't want to take away from anything else either. let me know your thoughts!

like i said in the author's note at the beginning of this chapter, life lately has been so hectic i haven't really had the time to write. i hate leaving you all hanging, but i do appreciate all of the kind words and reassurances. i don't like taking forever to update things i know people are looking forward to, but life sometimes has other plans. thank you all for your love and support both for my writing, and for me as a person. i see all of your comments and they all mean the world to me.

To say the atmosphere was tense would be an aggressive understatement. You currently sat next to your boyfriend, Aerion and across from your classmate who was glaring holes into your head as you attempted, to the best of your ability, to avoid his gaze. You truly had no idea that Aerion and Valarr were cousins, in fact if you did you would’ve outright refused when Aerion suggested you come with him tonight. Your relationship with Aerion had only been going on for the past two months, having met at a nightclub where his band was performing, hitting it off and subsequently going back to his place at the end of the night. Aerion was fun, he was wild and was definitely someone your family would not approve of. He had practically begged you to come along tonight, claiming it would’ve been ‘painfully boring’ without you. He didn’t know how right he was. As you sat there now with him next to you, aggressively sawing up his slice of turkey meat you couldn’t help but feel ill. Big Brother across the table, certainly was not helping to calm your nerves. Valarr and Aerion were so different, it’s not like anyone can blame you for not realising they both had the same last name. 

It was then you looked up, facing the music as you locked eyes with Valarr. He glared at you questioningly, as if demanding to know why you were in his home of all places.

“So, what course are you studying at the university?” 

It took you a minute to realise that Baelor was talking to you as you broke eye contact with Valarr. You could tell they were a bit confused. You didn’t exactly look like you belonged next to Aerion who was fully decked out in his normal grunge-y attire, you in contrast wore a slightly wrinkled blouse and a skirt, having dressed up slightly to make a good impression. Aerion had of course commented when he picked you up that you looked like you were going to a job interview instead of eating dinner, to which you’d scoffed and playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh, I’m studying politics at the moment.” You offered a polite smile towards the man, glad for a respite from the tension. Baelor’s eyebrows raised approvingly as he nodded, turning to place a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“My son here is also studying politics, I’m surprised you don't know each other."

You both went to speak at the same time.

“We do actually” “We know each other Dad.” 

Everyone at the table seemed to go silent as their eyebrows raised, from the awkwardness most likely. You were going to speak again but saw Valarr open his mouth and nodded for him to speak instead, figuring he knew how to speak to his family best.

“We’re in the same class, we just haven’t really spoken much before.”

“Yeah.” You agree. 

“Hang on a minute,” You turned to your boyfriend as you watched the gears turning in his head. His whole family seemed to hold their breath in anticipation over what would come out of his mouth. He turned to face you putting a hand on your leg a little too high up than what would be deemed appropriate in such a setting. 

“Don’t you always tell me you're top of your class?” He paused, squeezing your leg with an indescribable glint in his eye, “You’re always blowing me off when I wanna hang out to study.”

Your brows furrowed, unsure of where he was going with this before you answered.

“Well yeah but-”

Aerion let out a loud laugh, cutting you off before turning to his cousin with a mocking look on his face. Valarr sat stiff as a board and you immediately feared you’d done something wrong. Aerion, unable to read a room, kept speaking. 

“So that means, dear cousin, that my girlfriend is the one you’re always complaining about, kicking your ass in class right?”

Oh gods, you instantly felt your throat tighten. Your first thought was that you hadn’t realised that was where Aerion was going with that, things were already tense enough you didn’t wish to make them any worse by putting Valarr down. However, it was then that the second half of the sentence caught up with you. Valarr was always complaining about you? You had barely interacted with the boy, aside from earlier today but you didn’t think that was that bad. You chanced a look across the table and found him looking bright red, as if he wished the world would swallow him whole. Did he hate you because he was insecure that you were smarter than him? If so, that was a bit sad and the thought made you slightly irritated.

Baelor coughed once, clearly trying to clear the air before asking his nephew how his band was coming along, thankfully distracting Aerion from the previous topic of conversation. You however kept your gaze on Valarr who was now pointedly staring down at his plate, avoiding your looks as you were to his before. 

Eventually dinner ground to an end and you helped bring plates to the kitchen, figuring it was the least you could do for them having you over. Unfortunately Jena had also volunteered her son to help, given you didn’t know where to put things so you were stuck alone with Valarr as Aerion had chosen to remain at the table. The silence was deafening, it was so much you were almost tempted to scream just so it would shatter. You knew one of you would have to break first but your own cowardice prevented it from being you.

“Why are you here?”

His question made you whip your head around in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

He stood there, looking as polished as ever. He hadn’t changed since school, you’d noticed, but he somehow looked unburdened by the weight of the day. He leaned his hip against the kitchen drawer, arms crossed defensively over his chest as he looked at you expectantly. You recovered quickly before answering, turning to mirror his stance. 

“I’m here for dinner with my boyfriend’s family, why else would I be here?”

He didn't even hesitate before responding.

“To psych me out, invade my home to get in my head.”

He actually could not be for real, you laughed quickly before realising he wasn't joking. Trying to keep your voice low so as not to draw the attention of his family.

“You can’t be serious, why the fuck would I need to get in your head?”

“You have every reason, so I do worse than you on the next test, so I back down from the internship opportunity, so you can make me look incompetent in front of my father, so you can do better than me.”

You’d had just about enough of this.

“Valarr I’m already doing better than you, it’s not my fault if you’re so insecure in your ability you can’t handle that.”

He stood there stunned and before he could recover you turned and left him standing there, seeing Aerion waiting in the dining room with your coat in hand.

Valarr had been tense all day. Even his friends had noticed, hence why he had been dragged out by some of them to a random house party on the outskirts of the city. He didn’t think it was having the effect his friends thought it would though, given that he’d been sitting on a couch in a dark corner of the house for over an hour waiting for someone to tell him it was time to leave. He had a good vantage point to watch the room from where he was and he sipped his cup filled with cheap alcohol. He honestly didn’t mean to be acting like such a wet blanket but he found himself hung up on your words from yesterday because despite how much he loathed to admit it, you’d struck a cord.

He was insecure, he always worried that people would see him as spoiled just because of his family and felt he needed to prove himself. Above all though he cared what his father thought, his father had paved his way in the world and was revered and respected by everyone for it and Valarr constantly felt the pressure of having to live up to his father’s legacy. He took a long swig out of his cup and looked up only to freeze.  

Across the room, perched on the lap of someone with hair so garishly white it could only be his cousin, was you. 

Gods, could he not have a moment of peace? He rarely paid attention to you before, aside from the slight irritation at grades, and now all of a sudden you were everywhere?

He watched as Aerion leant in to whisper something in your ear before beginning to kiss sloppily down your neck as you threw your head back and laughed, at what he couldn’t imagine since Aerion wasn’t exactly known to be very funny. He took notice of the fact that your clothes were a lot different from last night, these ones certainly weren’t as.. modest. Maybe it was the alcohol speaking but he did have to admit that you certainly looked good. Your kisses with Aerion had transcended into a full blown makeout and it suddenly occurred to Valarr that he should probably look away since he most likely looked like a pervert right now. Inexplicably, he found it difficult to tear his eyes from your form but he eventually when he did he looked down to find his cup empty. He figured he may as well go and refill it since he hadn’t seen his friends at all in the past hour so they clearly weren’t leaving soon. He pushed through the crowd, gently declining a girl that grasped onto his arm, shouting for him to come dance with her. The warm bodies rubbing against him made him feel hot and unpleasantly sticky so he made note to go outside and get some fresh air once he’d gotten a drink. Once he’d gotten to the table and opened a lukewarm bottle of beer he scanned around, trying to find a door so he could finally get a break from all these people. When he at last found one and pushed his way out the cold hit his face suddenly and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief at being out of that stuffy house at last.

“Needed some fresh air?”

He whipped around and groaned as he saw you. You were sitting on the porch, Aerion’s jacket slung over your shoulders with your own cup of something in your hand. You didn’t let him speak before continuing. 

“I know I did, as much as I find these things fun, Aerion definitely has more of an endurance for them than I do.” 

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. You shuffled over slightly on the porch and he took a reluctant seat in the space next to you. Neither of you broke the silence for a while, it was tense and heavy and Valarr felt suffocated by it. A quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye made him infer that you were feeling it too, given you were practically hunched over into a ball. He decided something needed to be done about it. Unfortunately at the same time so did you.

“Listen about last night-” “I’ve been meaning to say-’

You let out a huff of amusement as he sighed, a smile pulling itself across his lips despite himself.

“You go first.” He heard you say and took a deep breath.

“I wanted to apologise, for last night, I shouldn’t have been so aggressive and confrontational. I think.. it just caught me off guard when you showed up and everything.”

You laughed softly.

“It’s alright, to be honest I wanted to say sorry too, I was so hurtful just because I felt threatened. I didn’t mean it when I called you insecure.”

He scoffed tiredly.

“Yes you did.” He sighed before his voice softened. “You’re right though, I was being an insecure arse.” 

You smiled at him then and he definitely must have drank too much because his heart jumped in his chest. 

“Think we can be friends then?”

He chuckled briefly before giving you a mock serious look.

“I don’t know about that. I’m still planning on beating you in class.”

“Oh please, over my dead body you come out on top.”

They both laughed, savouring the moment before a loud crash came from inside, immediately followed by shouting from a voice the both of them recognised. With the moment ended they both stood up, rushing inside to find Aerion lying on the floor face swelling up and nose bleeding.

“What’s going on?” You frantically asked the girl closest to you, quickly kneeling to check on your boyfriend.

“I don’t know one second he was over at the drinks table talking to this guy and the second they were fighting.” 

You looked around to see the guy Aerion was fighting with, finding an absolute giant of a man, who looked somewhat frazzled by the encounter himself as his friends looked after him. You turned to Valarr who was still standing behind you and pleaded with him, a frantic look in your eye he couldn’t ignore.

“We need to get him out of here.” Your tone was steely but Valarr could sense the desperation laced underneath.

He nodded resolutely and walked around to the opposite side of Aerion’s body to hook his hand under his arm and hoist him up. You mirrored the movement with the other arm and you both began the arduous task of dragging Aerion out the house. You felt him begin to slip out your grasp and moved your hand to get a better grip, your fingers accidentally brushing against Valarr’s causing him to jolt and almost drop Aerion before you quickly pulled back, throwing a low sorry his way.

Once you were both out the house, and Aerion seemed a bit more conscious, You let go so Valarr could lean himself and Aerion against the nearest wall while you ordered an uber. Suddenly a thought hit you and you turned to him; panicked.

“I don’t know if I have money for an uber at the minute, my paycheck from work hasn’t come in.”

Valarr, who was putting all his effort into trying to look unbothered by his cousin's weight yet failing, shot you an incredulous look before aggressively whispering at you. 

“What? How were you gonna get home tonight?”

“I was going to walk, you fucking idiot, my house isn’t far from here.”

“First of all don’t call me a fucking idiot, how was I supposed to know that. Second of all, you shouldn’t exactly walk alone in the middle of the night while drunk, that's like, safety 101. Third of all, just give me your phone and grab him, I’ll put in my bank details.” 

You stood there staggered for a second before springing into action trading places with him. 

“You shouldn’t have to pay, you know, it’s my stupid boyfriend.”

Valarr rolled his eyes without looking up from the phone and his fingers worked at lightning speed to put in his bank details. Aerion had begun to mumble incoherently as you held his head up to prevent his node from bleeding all over him any further.

“Yeah well it my stupid cousin.”

Soon enough it was done and Valarr passed your phone back to you and resumed his position on the other side of Aerion as you waited for the car to arrive. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Aerion seemed to be slightly more lucid and had apparently noticed his cousin’s presence as he slurred out a greeting. Though his greeting sounded more like an accusation than anything. Valarr for his part didn’t respond, only stared ahead intently, needing the car to pull up.

Thankfully for all of you it did a few minutes later and you managed to shove Aerion into the backseat. Valarr was quick to get in next, looking up at you confused from the seat when you made no move to join them.

“What are you doing?”

You wrapped your hands around yourself self-consciously as you shivered against the cold, having thrown Aerion’s jacket into the car with him.

“I told you I don’t live far from here, I’m just going to walk back.”

If looks could kill you were certain you’d be dead by now.

“And I told you that’s a stupid idea. Just get in the car, we’ll go to mine first for me and Aerion and then I’ll ask the driver to take you back to yours.”

He watched you think about it, conflict painted on your face.

“Please.” He sighed tiredly. “Do it for my sake at least, I think my heart will give out if I have to stress about anything more this evening.” 

You nodded in defeat and got in the car as he scooched over.

The car ride was quiet as you were all hit with a freight train of exhaustion. You tried to sink into your seat, nervous to touch Valarr again after how he reacted when your hands brushed earlier. Aerion had seemingly passed out again and you watched as Valarr elbowed him in the ribs when the car eventually pulled up to their house. 

“Ow.”

“Get up, we need to get in before I’m asked to explain why you look like you’ve just been pulled out of the boxing ring.”

Aerion grumbled as he removed himself from the car, not seeming to have noticed you and Valarr reached into his pocket, pulling out some cash to hand to the driver as he instructed them to take you home. You watched as he got out, supporting Aerion again, who had been leaning his weight on the car. You watched as he leaned to shut the door with a worn out smile on his face.

“Bye.” It came out his mouth breathy and heavy with fatigue and you offered a similar expression in response.

“Bye.” You managed to utter out and he nodded once before shutting the door and letting the car drive away, leaving you sitting there frazzled by the fever dream of a night you just had.