Hi There 👋

The smelly beast had flew you and your new husband to an unknown area. You knew you were going South, but you were too busy with screaming to bother to look where he was taking you exactly. You remember all your father’s words about the dragons when flying, that they were murderous unholy beings created by the enemies of the Gods. They were not to be adored, to be worshipped or petted. They are the enemy. 

Your husband sits on the other small couch, staring out the window. You don’t say a word, except sometimes your soft sniffles interrupt his thinking. You can see the way his eye rolls, his brows frowns and his body rises as he sighs as if he finds you annoying. You don’t care for it. Not a tiny bit. He took you from your home and he hit your maid. He hit Bertha. You recoil by the thought of the cruel punch he gave her in her stomach, pure because he could not hit you himself. The curtain is pulled close again, and Aemond lifts his head. You feel the tension build as you neatly fold your gloved hands in front of you, looking at your nails. You feel the urge to pull them. But the gloves prevent you from doing so. ‘’Where are you taking me?’’

Aemond denied you many things but he is at least honest about where he is taking you. ‘’Home. King’s Landing.’’ You could have predicted that. You don’t ever think you will call that hole your ‘’home’’. Oldtown was your home. He tilts his head, smiling as you slowly sink back into the cushions of the seat. ‘’You’ll like it there.’’ You don’t respond. He becomes impatient, as he sighs again, and the curtain goes open again. He sees the same trees as earlier and bites his lips, his head hitting the wood of the carriage. You know it won’t be as long, if he flew from the Reach to the Crownlands. But it still feels like forever that you are stuck in the green metal cage on wheels. Aemond has decorated it with hideous dragon banners and cushions but it remains a cage all the same.

After an eternity, the carriage stops. You open your eyes, understand you must’ve fallen asleep along the way. A soldier politely knocks on the door before the curtain is pushed aside again. ‘’My Prince, my Lady. We have arrived.’’ You look at your husband and are startled by what he is doing. In his dominant hand, lies a small black block you recognize as a whetstone. He was sharpening a sword when he waited for the carriage to arrive. You huff, finding it most undignified for him to that in front of you while you were sleeping. 

He does not acknowledge you at first, climbing out the carriage himself first. You roll your eyes, following your charming husband. A hand is offered to help you out the carriage, and to your surprise it is not Aemond’s. One of the soldiers has offered to help. You smile thankfully, muttering a polite thank you. Aemond follows the exchange, glaring. You don’t pay attention to him. You take some time to take in the high walls of the courtyard, as well as the gates and the tall towers looming over you as dead. You see what your father meant. Oldtown is much more modest and beautiful in that way. ‘’The Red Keep is a whore,’’ he would say. ‘’It tries to hard to impress her guests.’’ You miss Oldtown. You miss the grey colours. Luckily there is some green to be found around here as well, but the green has sadly been violated with a dragon sigil. 

One question remains. ‘’What will you do with my handmaid?’’ You ask the Prince. Aemond seems confused for a second, as if he had already forgotten the torture section he did earlier. You want to know if you need to free Bertha or if need be, kill her for her own state of mind. You won’t allow his men to savage her, the way you’ll likely be savaged. You don’t want to think about it much, but it is on your mind. The reality that you’ll be forced into his bed sooner rather than later haunts you and makes your chest stop functioning as it becomes as stuck as a stone. Aemond finally reacts when Bertha is helped off a horse, and brought to him.

He seems to like your pleading eyes and forced smile, as you gladly want to insult him again. But you know you are at his mercy not the other way around. ‘’It depends. Can you behave?’’ He asks you, tilting his head with a smirk. ‘’I won’t lie, I do like the idea of keeping her. She is a pretty thing and you listen well when I strike her.’’ You don’t like the sound of that at all. You silently pray to the Gods to strike him down, but he only sets a step closer. ‘’As long as you behave, she’ll live to see another day.’’ A very clear warning. You nod, hiding your tears that sting as she is pushed inside the Red Keep, likely to be brought to a prison cell. 

The door to the keep is opened for you and for Aemond and you both enter it simultaneously. It would be almost romantic if you didn’t dislike him as much. Aemond sighs, takes a moment to collect his thoughts and opens the big doors to what you assume can only be the Throne room. He straightens his back, folds his hands on his back, and makes himself look tall and intimidating. The sword shimmers on his hip. You follow, hesitant step by step as you allow yourself to accustom to the dragon banners and statues of Kings you never liked. Aemond halts in front of the Iron Throne. You bump into him, by accident. ‘’Apologies.’’ You mutter, to his back. 

For the first time since you met him, Aemond has become quiet. He turns around, his cloak following him as a shadow. His face is one of anger, distraughtness and utter panic. ‘’No.’’ He hisses, through his teeth. ‘’No!’’ He advances the throne, faster than before. ‘’No! That Craven!’’  You watch the sword leave his side, as he uses it to attack the throne. That is when it becomes too much, his anger reminding you of your father when he had his moods. You back away, frightened and lift your skirts before running far, far away. Nearby, there is a staircase. You don’t think, you just walk up, and enter a room on the left. You can still hear Aemond scream and rage downstairs. You are terrified and confused, as you make yourself as tiny as possible inside a wardrobe and close the doors as best as you can. You begin to cry, aware you might have endangered Bertha as well as yourself. 

The worst part of your wardrobe hiding spot, that after some time you think you actually succeeded. The screaming has died down and you think you picked a decent room to hide in. You think you might succeed. You aren’t sure how, as your father will bring you back to Aemond, and your other family members fear or support Ormund. That is until the door is grabbed and pulled open, that you look into the face of a guard. He turns around instantly upon discovering you. ‘’I found her!’’ He informs the others. You notice another guard on his knees, likely checking under the bed. Another, was looking behind some curtains. You make another quick prayer.

You decide to appeal to the man’s good loyal qualities. ‘’Please good Ser, I am but a follower of the Seven same as you. The Prince will hurt me if you bring me to him. He has struck my maid and I fear deeply for my safety when I am with him.’’ You plead, in tears. The guard sighs, as the one by the bed frowns. You know that look too well. He is a non-believer. The Gods created him yet he denies their existence. 

He crosses his arms and puts the pillows back where he took them from. ‘’Where did Aemond find her? She sounds half as insane as the Queen was.’’ His question is ignored. You wonder what Queen this could be. Alicent was never insane. At least not to your knowledge. She was briefly discussed sometimes but never visited or cared to write.

You take your necklace off, knowing it’ll be worth something. But he shakes his head and you know all is lost. ‘’You fear what he does to you, but I fear more what he does to me when he finds out I had you and let you go.’’ He does not wait for himself to finish and grabs your arms, painfully dragging you outside of the wardrobe as you scream.

‘’He won’t hurt you, surely. You are a loyal man, a knight upholding the good and protecting the innocent.’’ You beg, pleading with him for mercy. He just ignores you. You both end up back in the small indoor courtyard, where darkness now has set in. Even in the dark, you can still make out the silhouette of your husband and the clear wooden block in front of him and a man on his knees. You haven’t seen one but you know you are watching an execution.

“We found her.” You are pushed in his direction. You trip over your gown and fall face first onto the stone tiles. It hurts and you whimper. There is blood on your hands, as well on your knees. Your teeth hurt too as does your nose. Your husband stops the execution, his attention now focused on you. ‘’Why did you run off? I was worried someone might have abducted you.’’ You wish they had.

You look at the sword in the moonlight as well as that terrifying eye of his. The truth isn’t that easy to hide now, when he stands in front of you when he clearly wants to commit sins and murder people. “You frightened me.” You admit. 

The Prince scoffs at your quiet voice and folded hands. He inspects your hands at first, and slowly sighs when he takes in the damage. ‘’The Gods seem to have punished you for your treason. It’ll heal in time.’’ He assures you. ‘’Do not run away from me again. You won’t be happy when I find you.’’ You gulp, giving a soft nod as a tear splashes on the ground. “Good. I am your husband. You should fear me.” He says, and you know he is right. He is your husband and you should respect and obey him but him being a Targaryen makes this impossible.

You step closer to the strange kneeling man. He wears a white gown, more fit for the sept. You spot the necklace around his neck, the chains and you understand Aemond is about to execute a Maester. “What are you doing with that man?” You ask, disgusted. You help the poor man to his feet, interrupting the execution. ‘’He is a Maester. A man of the books. Are you quite alright, my Lord?” You ask the stranger as he gawks, at you, and at Aemond. 

Your husband steps closer, wielding the sword as a threat to you both. “Don't show him kindness.” He warns you. He puts the man back on the chopping block. “My brother. Where is he?” The Maester remains silent at first. Until Aemond smacks his head against the tiles. ‘’Answer me!’’ He barks. The Maester breaks and whispers, nodding so that Aemond knows he will speak..

The Answer is short and heavy breathed. You know he must be terrified. You felt the same way when he lost control in the throne room earlier. ‘’I don’t know, my Prince.’’ He confesses in tears. ‘’I woke up to help his Grace-’’ Aemond pressed his head down again, slamming his head against the tiles. You hear the poor man grunt and cry. 

You interfere because you know in your heart he won’t hesitate to kill this man. ‘’He is a Maester, Aemond. Killing is a sin. The Gods teach us to be kind and respectful!’’

‘’Do you tell your father the same when he kills?’’ ‘’Little hypocrite.’’ He hisses as his anger switching targets. He advances and you back away, afraid. You back away until your back ends up against a wall, and Aemond simply places both hands against your head so you cannot escape him. ‘’Perhaps I am punishing the wrong person.’’ He murmurs as he leans in closer, sniffing your neck.

You think Aemond will hurt you now, until the Maester sighs, and speaks. ‘’Aegon had somehow left, my Prince. I did not know of this. I had no idea. I never…without his poppy milk, I doubt he survives a day. I wouldn’t recommend him going anywhere.’’ Aemond sighs, reminded of his presence again. He grabs the sword, and levels it at the neck, ready to take the final cut as you scream.

A fourth voice interrupts you all, as a guard yells at Aemond from upstairs. “My Prince! Lord Larys fled too.” Aemond puts the sword away, seething. He kicks the Maester aside, and hurriedly leaves the courtyard.

-

You are escorted under guard to the throne room. You don’t like the room at all. The dragon banners and the haunting statues that can come to life any moment remind you you are not in a home. You are in a prison. To your shock, your husband has taken a seat on the hideous iron chair, wearing a crown familiar to your ring. ‘’Do you like it?’’ He asks. You shake your head.

‘’I much rather go home.’’ You say, and it's the truth. You long to be back with your family in Oldtown now more than ever.  His eyes roll and his knuckles whiten as you gulp. He stands up, quickly advancing as the doors are closed behind you. You cannot escape. 

‘’This is your home.’’ He grabs your face. ‘’You are to become my lady wife.’’

You rise your head as powerfully as you can. ‘’I don’t want to.’’ You know you are defying your family by speaking this truth but you cannot deny it. ‘’You are not who I wish to wed. You will lead us down a path of doom and destruction. You may be kin, but we are not family.’’

He simply chuckles. ‘’I’ve heard enough of you for today.’’ He walks back the throne, sitting himself down on the iron as he takes out another sword. ‘’I’d like to see what my effort got me. I want to see what my gold got me, most of all.’’ He suddenly says. You are confused at first.

Your voice becomes dry as you understand what he means. What he wants to see and what he feels entitled to. You. He feels entitled to you. All of you. Your stomach turns. ‘’I don’t understand.’’ You lie, pretending not to follow. You hope he changes his mind. His lips curl into a cruel smirk.

He has the means to force you and you are aware. ‘’I’ll help you understand.’’ He says and for a moment you are afraid he might undress you with force and violence. But he remains seated on the throne. ‘’I want you to remove your dress for me.’’ You were right. You watch, speechless.

Here. In the Throne Room. Of all Places. He has no regard for your honour or your shame. ‘’M-my prince. I don’t think that is a good idea.’’ You say, trying to find a way out of this. ‘’For one, we are not wed. What will the commoners say when I am with child, yet not wed?’’ Your first way out. Aemond thinks for a second before answering.

He shrugs. ‘’We will wed tomorrow, do not fret. I know you cannot wait for the wedding, but I urge you to be a bit patient.’’ He says, his voice covered in sarcasm. You think of another way out. Any way out.

‘’What if someone walks in?’’ You ask, next.

He dryly waves with the sword. ‘’I’ll poke their eyes out if that pleases you.’’ You break. You approach, shocking him. Your eyes are watery and your hands shake of emotions. How can you make it clear to him that you don’t want to become his wife, his lady, his anything?

You do not want violence. You would not wish it upon anyone. You don’t want eyes poked out or throats slashed or heads rolling. You want peace, a husband, a cottage in Oldtown and children. He does not understand you. How can he wed you? ‘’It does not, please me. It frightens me you say such things. The Gods tell us to be merciful.’ You remind him, in tears. 

For a moment, he seems to doubt. But then that moment ends, and his resolve has hardened pure because you dared to protest.

‘’I am merciful. If I were my brother, you’d be on your back with my cock down your cunt, getting savagedly raped on the tiles.’’ Your mouth drops open, shocked at his choice of words. He sighs, twirling the dagger. ‘’I don’t think I am requesting much, now am I? I will feed, cloth and house you. You will show me!’’

You flinch, a terrified sob escaping you. ‘’Why? it’s nothing special. It’s just my body.’’ Yet you do as he asks. You remove the lace sleeves, and the lace corset and finally show your breasts. You will yourself to not let it bother you. ‘’Just a body.’’ You repeat.

He leans back against the iron of the throne, his smirk only growing as he grins. ‘’I disagree. Quite the lovely pair you have.’’ You whimper as he uses his hands on your body. ‘’Such pretty nipples too.’’ He sighs, delighted. ‘’And they respond well to touch. Good. I had hoped so.’’ He allows himself to fully feel your breasts and it takes quite some time before he seems to have finished touching you. ‘’You may take your skirts off next.’’

‘’I prefer not to.’’ You say, a bit braver. ‘’The Gods want me maiden until I marry.’’

He softly sighs. ‘’What was that? I can’t have heard that correctly.’’ You sigh, and this time your skirts are pulled down as you get out of it. Aemond has no regard for your honour or shame and it is cold in the castle. You cross your arms over your chest, glancing at him what he wants to do now that you’ve obeyed him. He takes in your legs, and your feet and before long he gestures to the area between your legs, where a final piece of clothing is covering you. ‘’Take that off too.’’ Your shocked expression must’ve been funny to him as he chuckles. You obey, fully baring yourself naked. ‘’Good. The Gods are proud of you.’’ He says, mocking you and your religion. You glare.

‘’Come closer.’’ He says, inviting you near the iron throne. You set a few steps in his direction but remain cautious. ‘’Closer.’’ You can almost touch him and he can touch you. He smiles down at you from the throne.  ‘’Mhm.’’ He pats his own lap. ‘’Come sit.’’ You don’t want to, but you understand you have little choice. You sit down, your body feeling the heat of his body, as you sit down, on the legs of a man wearing nothing. You both sit the throne. ‘’You are sitting the most powerful seat in the realm.’’ His left hand goes to your naked leg, as he pats it. ‘’Do you like sitting here, my sweet?’’ He touches your nipples again, playing with your breasts.

You don’t fall for the sweet nickname or the kind touches. ‘’I’d like it more if I was dressed appropriately.’’ You remark, and you would. You would give anything to put your clothes back on. You don’t mind that Aemond has seen it. You mind any guard entering and seeing it. Any man not sworn by blood and Gods to be your husband. You fear them seeing you at your lowest, at your weakest.

‘’I think i’ll take you for a little ride, see how that changes your perspective.’’ He says, and you know you offended him. You want to ask questions as to where you’ll be riding, as he forces his knee right under your lady parts, giving you a firm rubbing. Your breath catches in your throat, as you gasp shocked at the audacity and the possibility. Aemond’s hands are quick to hold you, as he repeats this process over and over again, slowly taking you on his mere knee. Your body reacts unpleasantly to him, as it wets and your face must make all sort of expressions of confusion and yes, delight. Aemond tilts it slightly so he may see all your expressions as he forces you to ride his knee. Just when you think you’ve gotten used to the pleasant foreign little riding, he stops. You catch your breath, confused and a ashamed that you allowed that to happen.

He smirks. ‘’I knew you’d like that. You are a woman of the Seven, a devoted Servant. You sometimes need a push, a subtle hint to understand where to spread your legs for next.’’ You feel him touch you between your legs, this time with his fingers. ‘’Mhm. Most men wouldn’t allow this behaviour. This is devious. One might say, sinful.’’ He glances at you, studying your reaction to that word. You shake your head, muttering as you try to get off. He just holds you tighter, rubbing your breasts as his other hand goes between your legs, touching you. ‘’I want you to make it up to me. What you just did, was selfish and rude.’’ You don’t understand.

‘’But you moved your knee and invited me.’’ You mutter, confused. He wanted this as badly as you did. You hear your words back and are horrified.

He chuckles, sighing deeply. ‘’I am talking about you walking away from me.’’ He reminds you coldly. ‘’We live in a dangerous time. I think, as punishment, I want you to ride my knee, and this time, you’ll do the dirty work.’’ He says. ‘’You’ll ride me this time.’’ You don’t understand. Aemond rolls his eye and helps you, by moving you over his knee, but this time you decide the rhythm, the speed and the hardness of it. It’s all up to you. Shyly you move over his leg, but after the first few times the experience sets in and you become more experienced and try things out as you. Taking it harder, and faster for one. Soon you are moaning when taking him, when he calmly sits the throne with you riding him. 

‘’Look at you, undressed, naked and wet, fucking my knee as if you were born for it.’’ You whimper. ‘’Does my little niece like it? Do you like fucking your uncle’s knee?’’ You pout, your shame growing as does your desire. He smirks. ‘’I’ll have you come on my knee, soaking my pants. That’ll teach you who you belong to now.’’ You want it. You want it so badly. You whimper, burying your face in his neck of shame. He chuckles, pleased. ‘’I know, my sweet.’’ He sighs, rubbing your back. ‘’I don’t feel like dragging you upstairs to have you in my brother’s whore infested bed.’’ He mutters as his fingers keep softly rubbing your cunt. ‘’And I don’t want to have you on the tiles here either. Our first time must be special and befitting of a Queen. Don’t you think?’’ You are unsure. He gives you a sign to stand, and you follow him around the throne room until you end up by a glass painting of the Seven high above you all. ‘’I think, this a good spot.’’ He says, after some time. You are confused what he wants to do. You assume he wants to sleep with you. But he cannot do that here, in a throne room. Without a bed. Can he? 

‘’Face the painted glass.’’ You do. He sets your feet a bit apart, and gives you one last finger down between your legs. He gives your butt a firm spanking as you hear iron fall on the floor and understand he is undressing. Aemond cradles your head lovingly, bends you so you can look up to the Glass and whispers. ‘’It is only painful the first time.’’ He says. Your eyes are searching for the Maiden the moment his length finds your cunt. 

Your cries echo through the throne room, as he begins to penetrate you, your hips getting slammed onto his own. Your breathing increases and the need to cry out only increases as you endure what is happening to you.  It feels as if he is coming home.  ‘’That is it.’’ He groans in your ear, when taking you from behind against the wall. Your arms hurt but you won’t give in as Aemond’s cock explores your body and fills you all the way up. He grunts and thunders in your ear as you are carried away by waves of pleasure and wetness and feelings you can’t nor want to understand. Your mouth opens and you produce pathetic little cries as you glance up at the glass painting. You hear him grunt, and your muscles hurt as he curses, taking you harder than before. Your eyes close and you feel yourself lose whatever control remained as you are brutally fucked under the glass window. Aemond’s breath is hasty too and you feel his anger and his desire taking hold. The pleasure builds as Aemond forces you to take all of it, no regard that this is your first time. You experience sinful thoughts as you beg for him to take you, to take all of it and to have you. He listens for once, fucking you against the wall right where you need it. You whimper in the stone as he takes you again, and again and finally after feeling hungry for so long, he finally makes you feel satisfied. You come, screaming.

Your legs feel hurtful when he finally puts you back on the ground, glancing at your bloodied cunt. He pants too, a grin on his face. ‘’Aegon fled.’’ He says and it feels insulting that he doesn’t praise you first for what you just did. ‘’I am King now.’’ He adds. ‘’It is why I had to wed you so quickly. I need an heir to stabilize the realm.’’ You understand you just signed your own death warrent. A political prisoner might be kept alive by the Blacks. But a Queen carrying a King’s babe? Absolutely not. ‘’You have Hightower blood. I have the Blood of the Dragon. Our child, will be unsullied. It’ll be fit the rule the Seven Kingdoms. I see our banners, light grey and green, combined. I see thousands fall at our feet and beg to serve us as we burn our enemies, their ashes giving life to our crops.’’ You don’t understand what he is saying at first. But the true king, Aegon seems to have left. And rightly so.

From what you understand, Aemond tried to kill him tonight. A complicated complication in your father’s plans for sure. He did not think Aemond capable of this. Or did he? Did he knew all along? Did he suspected that Aegon would flee, and were you the distraction for Aemond? Or did he knew Aemond was looking for a Queen and did he just force you down a path? You suppose you will never know. Aemond’s hands go around your belly. ‘’I will bring you to bed. We can discuss these matters later. I cannot wait for you to bring forward my son.'' He says, and you are indeed helped to dress and brought to the King's bedroom. The same one you hid in earlier. You wonder if its a sign from the Gods. That you hid here, while in truth, you shouldn't have hidden. You see it now, as clear as glass. Aemond is who the Gods want you to be with. Aemond is intertwined in your destiny and he is to be your husband. You allow Aemond to join you in the bed, and you lay awake at night, thinking of his words. War looms from every corner now. You know so. Knives will be out. Heads will roll and blood will flow. You look at your husband as he sleeps, and conclude that he is right. What you fight for is a higher purpose than the Blacks could ever understand. You are not fighting for yourself or Aemond but for the Gods, for the true Blood that must perserve above all. You fall asleep after burying your head against his body, ignoring the obvious smell of dragon.

a/n

''Thats sudden.''

....

....

yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,

or shes ...you know...traumatized.

I think thats what we see here. She is clearly forcing Aemond here to be some answer from the gods because she cannot and will not accept that her gods forced this upon her. She is scared obviously for good reasons but at the same time she has been brainwashed since she was a little girl so obvious shes gonna yap about the gods. This is her way with dealing with trauma, it always has been so in that way, it makes sense for her to kind of become delulu and think the Gods are speaking to her. Its still a bit strange, but lets be honest with a father like ormund, a husband as Aemond it might not be as strange to believe the Gods are like, testing you and have prepared you for a secret holy mission. This is coming scarly close to ''radialisation'' aint it. But i guess that is what it.

I hope this lived up to the hype.

You are in your father’s study.  ‘’I promised I wouldn’t marry you off until the war ended. But we had a proposal.’’ A proposal. During wartime. Whoever wrote it, either is so desperate they cannot wait anymore. Or maybe so smitten with you that they cannot wait to elope. You think of the handsome soldier that had been eying you a few weeks ago, and think fondly of how handsome he looked with his brown trusting eyes and black hairs. Leaving the town, leaving your father would be a terrifying task. But you assume you always will be allowed to write and visit once the true rulers of the iron throne rule again. You open the letter, and have trouble deciphering the first few letters already. Whoever wrote this was in a hurry indeed. Your father, Ormund Hightower snatches the letter from your hands. ‘’It’s the Prince Aemond.’’ Your disappointment is as big as your disgust. You shake your head, anyone but him. He has a horrible scarred face, smells like death and he is related to you. You would rather die a maiden than marry a relative.

Disgusted, you scowl. ‘’Father, he is my nephew! You always said yourself we shouldn’t lower ourselves to such queer customs-’’ Your protests are sharply interrupted as Ormund presents you a horrible grey ring with a boring red stone that barely shines when the light catches it. 

‘’It’s Valyrian Steel. Extremely rare, a very rare gift for you from the Prince.’’ You don’t like it at all. You prefer your own jewelry which sparkles and shines and isn’t from a place that doesn’t even exist anymore. Your father would often mock the doom, calling it the only thing that the Valyrians did right. He thinks it was the work of the Seven, mocking them for having different gods. 

You don’t accept it either. The ring remains on the desk as you cross your arms. ‘’The walls are closing in on him. Aemond has come to realize that without his brother, without his mother, he is nothing and stands alone. It’s why he seeks a wife now to strengthen his claim in the way of an heir.’’ An heir. You hadn’t even considered that. Now you are even more disgusted. You feel dread and disgust as you think about having that man’s child. His sickening unnatural white hair and those foreign eyes staring at you somehow with your own features mixed in, it cannot be good. It cannot be what the Gods have planned for you.

‘’I don’t want to have his heir.’’ Your voice becomes small, as you try to play your father by trying to act as a little girl again. ‘’I am scared, father. I don’t want to have him as my Lord Husband.’’ Ormund does raise a brow but doesn’t speak. So you understand you must convince him a tiny bit more. ‘’It'll be a half-breed. Half Targaryen, half Hightower, half evil half good, I cannot possibly love a child as that.’’ You say. ‘’The wedding will be some evil ceremony and not to speak of the target it puts on my back. You think Aemond’s enemies will send him flowers for his new bride?’’

Your father sighs as he leans back in the chair. He grabs the ring again, and this time puts it in front of you. ‘’I already accepted.’’ You feel the world close around you as the air is sucked from your lungs. 

‘’What if he kills me? Do I truly matter that little to you?’’ You ask, tears stinging. Your father doesn’t speak at first. He knows Aemond is more than capable of that. You know your father hated you, because you killed your mother by coming into this world. But you never thought he wanted you dead for it.

He sees it simply as an agreement, but you will be the hostage and the woman forced to carry another man’s child. ‘’He will not kill you as long as you provide him with heirs and a compliment every now and then.’’ You scoff, snot ruining your dress. There are rumors he killed his former betrothed.

‘’I pray to the gods that I’m barren.’’ You turn around, but your father is faster. Ormund hits you on the back of your head, and two times in your face. You feel your nose, worried blood will come out. You cry again, this time of pure anger and helplessness. 

He has a simple response. It is all so logical and simple to him. ‘’I shouldn’t have done that, but you shouldn’t have said that. Have a maid draw you a bath. Aemond will be here at sunset.’’ You storm out of the room, running into Daeron on your way. He bumps into you and apologizes. He stops your path again, looking worriedly at your nose and your tears. ‘’Are you alright?’’

‘’Typical Targaryens. Always putting their noses where it isn’t required!’’

You push him out of the way and run off to your rooms.

–

Sunset has arrived at last.

You wait for the Prince’s arrival.

You don’t know if Daeron has been informed that his brother is visiting. Likely not, as he is not here at all. Your father, your Septa and a fair amount of guards are present. 

The sun is setting and there is no dragon at the horizon.

Just clouds and a sun.

For a moment, you have hope Aemond had second thoughts and called the whole thing off. But when the sun blackens too early, when the clouds gather too quickly and when the entire city is covered in darkness you know he has arrived. The Dragon is no match for Tessarion, as this dragon is dozens times bigger and larger. You have trouble looking at the beast when it is landed, and your father proudly marches forward to greet the rider. You remain nearby the septa and your guards. You feel your gloved hands, and pull your nails. Your septa sees and glares but you don’t care. Your father is laughing, as well as a second unknown voice. Then footsteps approach and both men walk back to where you are. Your father gestures for you to take a step forward. You remain firmly rooted into the ground. ‘’This is my daughter, Malora Hightower.’’ Your eyes go to the Prince. He has grown quite a lot. He has become a terrifying being, with a scarred face indeed as the rumors told you, and now wears armor. He has abandoned his training sword for a real one, where blood still drips from. 

Aemond takes his time inspecting you, from your hair to your green gown. He doesn’t say a word at first. ‘’I must say, I was hesitant to write you. Everyone knows how protective you are over Malora.’’ Aemond says, raising his suspicion about the true intentions of your father. ‘’I feel humble and grateful you allow me to wed her.’’ He is silent again. ‘’She seems a bit hostile.’’ He adds. You do. He steps closer, reaching for your hand, likely looking for his ring.

‘’I didn’t like it. It is hideous and heavy.’’ You say.

He chuckles softly. ‘’It’s an ancient Targaryen heirloom. You will wear it with pride.’ 

‘’The Gods won’t allow this union. Look how they punished your parents.’’ You say. Alicent is his mother. A hightower. It cannot be that all the Targaryen blood has taken over.

The Gods mean nothing to him as he dismisses the idea quickly. ‘’With the war? The Gods had nothing to do with that.’’ That might be true. You make a show of stepping closer, looking him into his good remaining eye. You size him up as he did with you earlier and you make a show of showing your disgust.

You decide to deal the final blow.‘’With you being born, that is how they punished your parents.’’ Aemond’s mouth subtly drops open by the insult as your father tries his best to not hit you again for that insult.

‘’Aemond suspected you might disobey.’’ Ormund says, as your maid is escorted into the courtyard too. You don’t understand at first what she is doing here. You try to get to her, but Aemond blocks the way easily and smiles, touching your hair.

‘’I don’t like your face getting bruised.’’ He touches your lips as you protest. ‘’Mhm. I much prefer doing other things with it. Wicked, evil, sinful things only Targaryens can think of.’’ He tries to make you afraid, but his wording is transparent. There is some true anger hidden there. Some true anger that you all think about Targaryens that way. ‘’So, we thought of something. Your maid will come with us. And, whenever you do something, I don’t like, I don’t agree with, I don’t want?’’ He hooks her in the stomach, right in front of your eyes.