I Should Probably Be Asleep

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said sharply. Immediately, the mask was back on your face. He was supposed to think, just like everyone else, that you were incredibly happy. That Lord Blackwood’s proposal was the best thing that had ever happened to you. That you fulfilled your duty as the daughter of a highborn Lord, that you did just what everyone expected of you.

“As far as I know, these halls are ours,“ he replied, his face unmoving as ever. “I can be wherever I want. And as luck would have it, I’ll be spending tonight right here.”

You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. It was always this way with Aemond. You knew him since you were little and watched him grow into the cruel, merciless person he was today. But there had been different times. Times which you’d give anything to forget, but just couldn’t. 

You’d never forget the day that your mother died, when he found you in the sept, kneeling right beside you, sharing the grief in silence, just a breath away. You’d never forget the first time you ever heard him laugh, quiet at first, but then with his whole chest. A sound which haunted you even now, years later. You’d never forget his fight with Ser Criston, where he cut his arm so badly you stayed beside him the whole night, fighting with the Maesters when they tried to send you away. But things changed after a while. He got power-hungry in ways you couldn’t comprehend, and that thirst for power drove a wedge between the two of you. You had told him what you thought of his intentions – and he cut you out of his life with the precision of his dagger. But now? He stood in your chambers as if all those months of silence didn’t exist. 

Aemond took slow, leisurely steps. Each one revealed just how much strength his body possessed, every muscle beneath his black clothing taut. You pressed your back against the door, torn between fleeing this room or standing up to him. You chose the latter.

“I could scream,“ you threatened while raising your chin. 

“And what then?” he taunted, stopping right in front of you. His intense gaze locked onto yours.

You let out a deep sigh. “What do you want from me, Aemond?”

He raised a hand and you held your breath. With surprising gentleness, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. For a split second you forgot how to breathe. “I already told you: I’m here to congratulate you on your proposal.“ 

You gritted your teeth. “Sounds more like mockery to me.”

He clicked his tongue. “What do you take me for, Zaldrītsos?”

You flinched at that familiar nickname from back then. He always insisted that you were feisty like a dragon. A little one, but a dragon nonetheless.  

“I think of you exactly as you are: an arrogant prince who thinks he can always do whatever he pleases.”

He raised a brow. “You don’t seem to have a very high opinion of me.”

“And you seem to have gained some intelligence if you understood that,” you said with a bitter smile. 

“Ah,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’ve missed your sharp tongue.”

“I’m not going to play this game with you, Aemond.” You were about to walk away from him—when he grabbed your wrist, sending a shock through you at the sudden contact of skin.

“It’s not a game for me,” he ground out. “Not since I heard that you accepted the proposal of a ridiculous lord who’s twice your age.” 

You gritted your teeth. “Some of us simply have no choice, Aemond. Some of us have to do what’s expected of us.”

He snorted and broke free from you. Then he paced back and forth through your chambers. Finally, he spun around and pointed at you “You’re saying that to me of all people. To me, who’s weighed down by everything I can’t have? Who has to watch my brother get everything with ease, without ever having done anything to earn it?” 

“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” you said. “You show up here after we haven't exchanged a single word in at least a year, and what exactly do you want from me, hm? To make fun of me because I accepted a proposal? Dig the knife deeper into the wound I already carry?”

The next moment, he grabbed you by the shoulders, and your back slammed against the door. All of a sudden, he was so close to you that you could barely breathe. All you could feel was him; his breath, a strand of his hair that got loose and grazed your cheekbone, his muscular frame against yours.

“I’ll tell you what this has to do with you,” he whispered. His breath brushed your lips, and a wave of heat washed over you. “It has everything to do with you, Zaldrītsos.”

Gone was the cruel monster; something else had taken its place. His gaze was intense and filled with an unknown desire that seemed to have taken over his whole body. And now it seemed to be spreading to you, too, like a flame that fed on dry forest. 

“Aemond,” you whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I should have done back then,” he replied hoarse, wrapping a hand around your neck. The touch was possessive, harsh. Something fluttered in your stomach, feeding the heat in your bones. 

And then, without another word, Aemond kissed you.

For a moment, the world stood still.

The universe paused.

You simply surrendered to the sensation of his lips. 

Aemond kissed the way he fought: without restraint and full of dominance. He devoured your mouth, held you tightly in his embrace, took possession of your body, and deep in your soul, you surrendered to him. There was nothing but desire as he ran his tongue over yours. Your hands—suddenly they were resting on his chest, finally feeling the muscles you’d always watched during his graceful sparring matches, and his abs twitched as you let your hands glide over them. Greed took ahold of you, and your fingers shook when you touched him more, feeling every rigid part of him. 

Suddenly, his hands were on your laces, and with surprising precision, he undid them, bit by bit. Apparently it was too slow for his liking, with a hiss, he drew his dagger from its sheath.

One quick cut, and the dress was ruined.

“Aemond,” you gasped against his lips when the cold air hit your bare skin.

He bit you as an answer and kept undoing your dress. The fabric slipped to the ground, and you stood before him. Aemond kneeled before you, his gaze fixed on your center. 

“Please, let me…” He swung one of your legs over his shoulder, gathered up your dress, and looked up at you from below. You bit your lip and nodded. That was all he needed. The next moment his head was exactly where you needed it. You leaned back, buried your hand in his silky strands, and gasped as pleasure ran through you. Your knees felt weak already, as Aemonds skilled mouth moved on you. You were lost in pleasure, but the throbbing inside you wanted more. It wanted him. His mouth wasn’t enough. 

“Please…,” you begged. “Please, Aemond. I need you.”

He kept moving his mouth until you saw stars. “Let me enjoy my feast,” he murmured against your sex. “I‘ve been waiting a long time for it.”

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing his head back. “Lose your breeches. Right. Now.”

His eye pierced right into yours. “I didn’t take you for that forceful. Which was clearly a shortsight of mine.”

You reached for him and with trembling fingers you helped him lose his breeches. You took him into your hands and Aemond whimpered. A new favorite sound of yours, you decided then and there. He pumped into your hand and his head fell back, his eye closing in pleasure. You wanted to see him this way when you closed your mouth around him, but right now, you needed only him. And as it seemed, Aemond had the same thought.

“Brace yourself,” was the only thing he ground out.

Then he lifted you up, and buried himself in your warmth with a hard thrust. You let out a scream, which made him put a hand on your mouth. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long…” His voice sounded as if it were coming from far away. Once again, he moved inside you, back and forth, slowly at first, as if he needed to get used to the feeling of you just as much as you needed to get used to him. But after a few thrusts, the restraint was gone.

On the same day you had been promised to someone else, Aemond fucked you by the door of your chambers. And you loved every single second of it. The feeling of suddenly being so close to him after the long drought. The way he was hard in all the places where you were soft. The way his cock felt inside you—a mixture of sweet pain and intense pleasure. You loved the sounds he made; the ever so controlled prince, completely taken apart by the pleasure you gave him. It was a glorious sight, and you wanted to see everything of him. Without hesitation, you raised your hand and brushed the eye patch away from his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the moonlight, and finally, finally, you were able to give its scar the care you had held within you for so long. You kissed him there, softly grazing the thick scar, which made Aemond lose the rest of restraint. His thrusts grew harder, as your back slammed against the door. 

“Tell me,” he ground out, his voice rough, accentuated by each hard thrust. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“I belong to you!“ you screamed as he hit a spot inside you that made you see stars. 

Those words spurred Aemond on to thrust himself even harder and faster into you. All you could do was dig your nails into his hard shoulders as you headed toward a cliff. And then, with a few final hard thrusts and a guttural groan, you both leaped over it together, right into the roaring waves. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to him, breathing heavily. Aemonds breath was hot at your neck. You could feel his seed dripping out of you, but you didn't even have the strength left to regret it.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you away from the door, carrying you through your rooms. A few seconds later, you were gently laid down on the bed. Aemond was over you right after and brushed your sweat-drenched hair off your forehead.

“Don’t marry him.“ The words came out hoarse. You blinked.

“Pardon me?”

“Don’t marry him,“ he repeated.

You gulped. “Aemond … I don’t have a choice.”

“What if I offer you an alternative?”

You blinked. “I’m not sure I’m following, my prince.”

He nestled his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel one of his rare smiles on your skin, and again there was this fluttering feeling right in your stomach. ”I do quite enjoy you calling me that instead of insults.”

“I mean it as an insult, though,“ you lied, a slow smile creeping onto your lips.

“Marry me instead.“

Silence.

The words echoed on your skin. Again and again. 

When you didn’t answer him, Aemond raised himself on his arms and looked down on you. His hair build a veil between your faces, a silvery cage only for the two of you. 

“Why now?” you whispered. Your heart beat so fast you feared he could feel it. “Because I don’t belong to Lord Blackwood? Because you don’t like other men playing with your playthings?” You couldn’t stop the bitterness from lacing your words. 

“Because I love you,” Aemond replied simply. “And apart from the fact that he’s an old cunt, I’m not sure you could say the same thing for him.”

You stared at him, speechless. For a moment, you couldn't believe what you'd just heard.

“You love me,” you repeated. 

He didn’t answer. Just placed his hand on your face and kissed you once more. And in that sweet kiss, you could simply feel it. The love he had for you. The fact that he adored you, maybe always had.

“Marry me instead,” Aemond whispered on your lips.

And for a moment, you imagined it. What it would be like to have the one-eyed prince by your side. The challenges that would come with it. The battles you’d have to fight. But also the happiness you could share together. The paths you could set out on hand in hand. 

You smiled up at him.

He could read the answer in your eyes. Once again, he wrapped his arms around you. 

You were a tangled knot of arms and legs, two hearts beating in unison, two souls that had lost each other and now found each other again.