Betrothed to the Bright Prince since childhood, you have done everything in your power to stop wedding him. However the union is inevitable, and you will be forced to face the feelings you have always held for the dragon prince.
cw: emotional constipation, angst, arranged marriage, vomiting, period-typical understanding of mental illness, disordered eating, not technically a suicide attempt but Aerion thinks it is, reader is described as being malnourished, vaginal fingering, oral sex. please do not read if these topics are triggering for you. your mental health always come first.
Aerion Targaryen x Reyne!reader
a/n: I'm back! I was on vacation and was listening to the Rains of Castamere and got inspired to write this. Enjoy :3
You vomited into a chamber pot after tea with Queen Myriah and the other noblewomen of the Red Keep. Your aunt Alyssa had the serving girls leave, except for Genna, who was the only one from the westerlands. Genna had been with you when you were sent to House Celtigar and was one of the few people in the Red Keep you could trust.
"I should have stopped you after the first honeyfinger," Aunt Alyssa said as she helped Genna pull the fabric of your dress back so you did not dirty it.
You shook your head and immediately regretted the action. "Princess Kiera had them brought from Tyroshโฆ. Thereโฆ would beโฆ talk if I did not eat at least two," you said with much difficulty. Your throat burnt each time you tried to swallow or take a breath through your mouth. The cold floor was hard against your hands and knees.
"I should send for the Grand Maester," your aunt said but you reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She sighed through her nose. "Or at least one of the other castle maesters."
"A maester has already seen your niece two days ago, Lady Celtigar," Genna said softly.
"Water, please," you croaked. Genna went to retrieve a cup of water, which you used to rinse your mouth of the remaining vomit. The two women helped you stand and make your way to a chair. When you sat, you closed your eyes and rolled your head back, shivering at the feeling of your sweat dissolving on your skin.
"Genna, please leave us," you heard your aunt say. You opened your eyes to see your aunt watched you with scrutinizing dark purple eyes, her lips pulled into tight frown as a hand found her hip, disturbing the red fabric of her dress. Genna left without a word and when the door to your chambers closed, your aunt stepped forward, clasping one of your hands with two of hers. "My dear, you must consider your health."
You sighed and looked away. "I have. This is nothing to hold concern over."
"Darling, you are nine and ten years of age andโ"
"And I have not flowered. I am aware," you snapped.
"That is not what I wanted to say. You are nine and ten, and frail. I have spoken to the tailors regarding your dresses and it seems that every year, they must add more and more padding," Aunt Alyssa said softly. Her brows drew inward, causing a crease between them to form. "Your uncle and mother may care about your late flowering, but I worry about your constitution. Allow me to call Grand Maester Sumner." She reached up and cupped a hand on your cheek.
You turned your head back to your aunt, staring into her purple eyes that swam with worry. "Alright," you relented. Your aunt smiled softly and turned to the door, where she had Gennaโwho was standing just outsideโfetch the Grand Maester.
Grand Maester Sumner, a man of mid-age with brown hair, arrived to your chambers quickly. He pulled a small vial of clear liquid from his robes and instructed you to drink it, claiming it would help calm the body. You drank the foul liquid as your aunt explained your vomiting.
"Have you had any pains as of late, my lady?" Grand Maester Sumner asked, pulling a chair over to sit beside you.
"My stomach," you admitted. A strange pain had begun to radiate from your lower stomach two days ago, resulting in you called on a maester to see you.
"Maester William informed me of such," Grand Maester Sumner nodded. "It appears you have gottenโฆ thinner since I last saw you. A new diet may be beneficial. Some maesters at the Citadel have found that noble ladies may stop eating when their nerves are out of order, and it is most helpful to have them eat small amounts seven times a day." He said the last part to your aunt.
"Thank you, Grand Maester Sumner," your aunt said, although she still appeared worried. "And my niece's stomach pains?"
"Likely a womanly pain." The Grand Maester stood, the metal of his chain clicking as he did so. "I will send you a note with the ideal foods to eat, Lady Celtigar." When the Grand Maester left, your aunt still watched you with concern.
You were certain your aunt knew that you starved yourself. It was not a secret that you ate very little during dinnerโin fact, there was a time you had been praised for it by some of the noblewomen in the Keep, but that was before your bones had become visible beneath your skin and your aunt had to request gowns that covered almost every inch of you. You were also certain that your aunt was not aware of the plant leaves you had Genna purchase for you, each of which was said to delay the flowering of a woman. You ate them each night, the fear of marriage ever-present in the back of your mind. If it was not punishment enough to hear the whispers about how your brother sided with Daemon Blackfyre during the short rebellion, the throne found it fitting to betroth you to a Targaryen prince at five years of age. Perhaps it was a sign of mercy from King Daeron, yet you suffered the most when you were sent to live with your maternal family in the Red Keep.
When you awoke the next morning, you felt light, as if a pressure had been released from your chest. Genna arrived to your chambers and drew back your red curtains to allow the golden sunlight to flood your room. Still half asleep, you rolled to the side of your mattress and stood slowly, the cold floor biting at your feet.
"My lady." Genna's voice was breathless. You looked at Genna to see that a hand was covering her mouth and her eyes bore down onto your night shift. There was a red spot on it and when you looked behind you, there was another stained onto the white fabric.
"No," you murmured, trying to rub it away. You lunged at your bed, pulling the furs back, only to confirm what you already knew: the sheets had been stained with your blood. Your vision began to blur. You already knew that a day would come when you bled and your efforts had provided you at least three years of life as a maiden, but your heart still ached at the loss of the freedom you had enjoyed.
Genna tried to keep the other serving girls away from your chambers, but they had already seen the blood and quickly informed your aunt and uncle. Aunt Alyssa found you in your chambers, still crying and clawing at the sheets. She quietly instructed for you to be dressed before taking to you to meet with the queen in the royal apartments.
Queen Myriah was a radiant Dornishwoman, but her beauty came from her kindness. There was almost a sorrow in the queen's dark brown eyes as your aunt informed her of your first moon blood.
You remembered two large events from the months afterwards: the first was that King Daeron commanded his son, Prince Maekar, to bring your betrothed back to Westeros, and the second was that the air was cold. Summer had begun to shift to autumn, and the seas were angry, bringing storms to the crownlands. The rest of your memories were a blur of court appearances, afternoon teas, and hiding in dark corners to escape your obligations of planning a wedding you did not wish for, only to be haunted by noblewomen and servants alike when they quietly spoke about the poor, frail sister of the Blackfyre loyalist Lord Reyne and her marriage with the cruel Targaryen prince banished to Lys.
Your aunt, on the other hand, was delighted to see that you had taken some weight onto your body, resulting in the development of curves on your hips, thighs, and breasts. She hounded you relentlessly seven times a day until you ate at least half of what was brought for you. Some of the padding on your dresses were removed, and you had begun to sleep better and for longer periods of time. Genna noted to you that your hair appeared to be less dull.
The Red Keep was tense when House Reyne arrived at King's Landing. Your mother and your brother, Robb, greeted you with the familiarity of people you had only seen once every several years. Now the Lord of Castamere, Robb seldom spoke to you, although you suspected that your mother was behind his infrequent communication. After you were promised to your betrothed, there had been an uproar among nobles who believed the betrothal rewarded House Reyne rather than punished. Your mother, formerly of House Celtigar, sent you to live with her lord brother, who's loyalty to the Targaryens was unquestioned as the master of ships on the king's small council. But ultimately, it was Alyssa Celtigar Velaryon who ensured your understanding of the politics within the Red Keep. In many ways, Aunt Alyssa was more of a mother than your own.
Many houses traveled to celebrate the royal wedding that was to come, and the Grand Hall was merry with food and drink for the days following your family's arrival. The merriment dimmed around Robb, who received glares and drunken snide remarks. You spent most of your days with your aunt and away from Robb, knowing that speaking to him more than required would only cause disdain for you in court.
Finally, your betrothed arrived and you could feel the last inklings of your control slip away. You did not want to look at silver-haired prince when you, your family, and the royal family came to welcome him in the outdoor courtyard, yet you inevitably did and was struck by the childish whims of your younger self. You were not always opposed to your betrothal; rather you had been quite excited to be wed to a prince, even if he was ninth in line to inherit the Iron Throne. Prince Aerion was the only person you could ever love, as told to you by your family, tutors, and even servants, and there was a time you thought you could love him.
But as you watched his cold purple eyes turn to you, you were starkly reminded of his words from when you were eight. "House Celtigar muddied its blood with the likes of Sunglass and Brune. They disgraced the blood of old Valyria." It was well known that Prince Aerion valued the legacy of House Targaryen, and you, his bride, did not look Valyrian.
Prince Aerion did not speak to you that day. He did not speak to you in court or during the feast held in his honor. He seemed to be quite content in ignoring your existence, of which you welcomed because he had done just the same before his banishment to the Free Cities. The only interaction you had with Prince Aerionโif one could call it an interaction at allโwas when Genna brought you a box containing a necklace of dark, almost black, metal with a single blood-red tear-shaped ruby. The design was simple but the craftsmanship was unmistakeably refined. You told Genna to put it someplace safe.
You woke on the morning of your wedding cold. The sun had yet to rise and you stared out your window, watching orange and yellow begin to streak the sky. Your memory again blurred, resulting in a strange mixture of events where you could only remember standing in the Great Sept of Baelor, your brother at your side as he handed you to Prince Aerion.
The prince, dressed impeccably in his house colors, removed the grey cloak around your shoulders that featured the roaring red lion of House Reyne. It was quickly replaced by one black as midnight, and you could feel the red three-headed dragon on the new cloak burn through your wedding dress and onto your skin.
"My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever," the septon said. You held the rough hands of Prince Aerion as the septon bound them together with a black silk ribbon with red embroidery. Prince Aerion watched you with unfamiliar Valyrian eyesโthe kind you were unused to staring at you with such indifference. Your lip almost quivered when the septon spoke again. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words."
The ribbon was unraveled from your hands, but under tradition, you kept them in place despite wanting to pull them away.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," the two of you said.
"I am hers and she is mine."
"I am his and he is mine."
"From this day, until the end of my days."
"From this day, until the end of my days."
"With this kiss, I pledge my love," Aerion said, his voice clear and unwavering. He pressed his lips against yours. Thankfully, it was over quickly.
The prince did not seek you in your bedchambers that night.
Your marriage remained unconsummated for a week, then a month, and you were delighted. To Prince Maekar's horror, there was even talk about Prince Aerion visiting pleasure houses while his wife remained chaste. Many noblewomen, and even some of the princesses looked at you with pity, but you could not have been happier, even thanking the old gods and the new each night the prince did not appear in your bedchambers. However, that all came to an end when Genna informed you that Prince Maekar had demanded Prince Aerion fulfill his marital duty or he would be sent to the North.
Genna prepared a bath for you in your chambers and you quickly dismissed her when you got in the burning hot water. You wished to be alone with your thoughts, many of which regarded how horribly short-lived your joy had been. As you leaned your head against the side of the tub, you watched droplets of water slowly fall down your bent knees, joining with others until they finally reached the surface of the bathwater. You had been so cold recently, the autumn air chilling you even through closed windows and doors. Genna kept a fire roaring in your room for almost all hours of the day.
You took a deep breath and eased your head beneath the water's surface with your eyes shut, wondering if hot water was the closest one could get to living in fire. It was certainly one of the few ways you could warm yourself. There was a calmness in you as your lungs began to ache and you allowed a flurry of bubbles to escape your mouth. You were just about to returned to the surface, when something roughly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you upwards.
Your eyes flew open and you attempted to pull yourself away from the force behind your neck, only to find Prince Aerion's violet eyes glaring down at you. He hovered over the tub, one hand at the back of your neck and the other holding your cheek.
"Are you mad?" Prince Aerion's voice was harsh. You pushed his hands away, coughing slightly at the feeling of water trickling down your throat from your nose. Some had gone up and now your nostrils felt wet and you could only smell the lavender Genna had dripped into the bath. "Speak!" Prince Aerion hissed.
"I am not," you said, leaning against the side of the bathtub and pulling your knees up to cover your chest.
The prince looked at you with contempt. "Then why were you trying to drown yourseโ"
"I was not," you said quickly. "If anything, you have harmed me by pulling me so quickly fromโ"
"I harmed you?" The prince gripped the end of the tub. "I walk into my wife's chambers and find her head under water and all air in her lungs rising to the surface. And I hurt you instead of saving you?"
"There was no saving required," you said.
Prince Aerion stared at you for what felt like an eternity. He was completely still, and you could not see the soft rise and fall of his chest. Whatever Prince Aerion had done in the three years he spent in the Free Cities had removed the excess natural fat on his face, resulting in sharper cheekbones and jaw. An old scar ran from the middle of his right cheek to his ear, and from what you remembered, the prince has received it during the Trial of Seven in Ashford. He had always been so achingly beautiful and when his lips parted, you could not tear your eyes away from him. Finally, he spoke. "You disgrace the blood of Valyria."
Any goodwill toward the prince left your mind as you remembered yourself. "Why are you here?" you asked as you turned your head away.
The air felt colder and you sank a little lower into the water to cover your shoulders. "You have barely seen or spoken to me since our wedding. One could barely consider me to be your wife."
"Are you upset that I do not dote on you like a love-sick hound?" The prince's voice was mocking and harsh.
"Do not assume your actions have any effect on me," you scoffed and pulled your knees closer to you.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Prince Aerion tilt his head in the direction you were looking. "Then why do you shun me?"
"I am only doing as you have, Your Grace," you said softly.
"You're a liar." Prince Aerion leaned closer. "You have shunned me since childhood and all I've done is remain indifferent to your rudeness."
You looked back at the prince, noticing how his eyes burnt with an angry passion. In the time of the dragon lords, that face would have meant a painfully slow death in dragonfire. "Do you only wish to insult me this evening, Your Grace? I tire and want to rest."
When the prince moved, it was fast and there was a pressure on your jaw before you could pull away. Alarm sparked where his fingers dug into your face, flooding your body with the fires of panic and the desperate need to put as much distance between you and Prince Aerion. "You will not dismiss me like a servant," he said, his tone severe and punishing.
You were surprised by your own boldness when you spoke. "Then do you wish to stay? I heard you were quite content with your whores and pillow houses since our marriage. Are they no longer worth your attention this evening?"
Prince Aerion's brow drew together. "Do you truly think of me so lowly?"
"Yes," you said, your word hanging in the air with finality.
Prince Aerion scowled down at you, his fingers digging further into your cheeks as you let out a painful huff. "Perhaps I should go prove my lady wife correct then," he said before letting go of you and retreating to your door, his footsteps loud and unforgiving on the shiny floor. The prince stopped just before he left. "From this day foreword, you will not be left alone. Ever." The sound of the door slamming closed made you wince.
The prince had been true to his words and a cot was moved into your chambers so Genna could remain by your side at all times. Prince Aerion called for Grand Maester Sumner to examine you the next morning, right after the wretched cot was placed on one side of your room and the prince had demanded everyone leave, even Genna.
"I found her attempting to drown herself," Prince Aerion said when the three of you were alone. If Grand Maester Sumner was surprised, he did not express it.
You glared up at Prince Aerion from the chair you sat in. "I was not," you said to the maester softly. "I was cold and place my head underwater momentarily to warm myself. His Grace came into my chambers and assumed the worst."
Grand Maester Sumner held a hand out to you and you slotted one of yours against his, familiar with the process of bodily examination. The maester held your hand gently, applying slow pressure to your fingers and looking at your skin before placing two fingers on your wrist. He was quiet for a time, and then he placed your hand onto the armrest of your chair. "As I have told Her Grace and the Lady Alyssa Celtigar, a change in diet is sufficient."
"I have done as you instructed," you said.
The maester nodded and stepped away. "That is clear, even without the knowledge of a maester. The only thing I can recommend is relaxation to calm the nerves."
"That's all?" Prince Aerion snapped. "Rest?
"Matters of the mind cannot be fixed with a brew, but rather time and gradual healing," Grand Maester Sumner said.
Prince Aerion glared at the maester. "You will speak of this to no one."
The rains were heavy when Prince Aerion whisked you away to Dragonstone, where the smell of salt was permanently etched into each carved rock, and the air hung with the whispers of Targaryens from another time. The halls were damp and oppressive, decorated with dragon statues and dark furniture that only served to make the castle lonelier. Similar to life at the Red Keep, Prince Aerion spent his days apart from you, although here in Dragonstone, he made the effort to eat dinners with you. They were taken in silence, with barely a word spoken between the two of you.
The maester's chambers were found in the Sea Dragon Tower, a great structure shaped in the visage of a long serpent coiled around the tower as its slender head gazed into the sea with a serene look in it eyes. A balcony wrapped around the entirety of the top, providing a salty escape from the rest of the gloomy castle. You visited the place often. Even if you told Genna to leave you to yourself, the top of the tower was still visible to the maester and any guards Prince Aerion demanded stay by your side.
About an hour or two before evening fall, you found yourself at the Sea Dragon Tower again, watching the waves and looking across Blackwater Bay to where King's Landing was visible, a red speck on the green and grey land. The air was calm when the sun began to dip towards the land, painting each black stone of the castle in a lively orange. You had finally convinced Prince Aerion's guards to leave you, insisting that you were quite alright and would not require their protection. In the prince's egoism, he had neglected to tell the guards why he wanted them around you each waking hour.
You were at peace for a time, until you heard the sound of footsteps followed by a harsh voice. "Why are you alone?"
"I had your guards leave me," you said, refusing to look behind you.
Your husband's breaths were heavy and when he stood next to you a small distance away, you could see the steady rise and fall of his chest in the corner of your eye. His black clothing looked as if it was merging into the shadows. "I told you I don't want you to be alone."
"Are you afraid I'll jump?" you asked softly, peering over the ledge at the sharp stone statues mounted on the sturdy walls. "A fall from this height would kill quickly, but not before you come to the realization that you will die. I'd rather be unaware of my death."
"Enough," Prince Aerion said as he stepped back. "Come dine with me."
"Is that a request or a command?"
"Your husband wishes it."
You turned away from the ledge and stepped out of the slowly cooling air, walking fast enough that Prince Aerion had to lengthen his stride to catch up with you. The sound of footsteps echoed through the stairway. You came to realize as you walked that since marrying the prince, your dresses had slowly shifted from red and white to almost entirely black to match your husband's attire. A part of you wondered if things had been different; if your hair was silver-gold and your eyes were purple, then perhaps Prince Aerion would treat you kinder.
No words were spoken at dinner; the only sounds to be heard were the quiet clinking of cutlery against porcelain dishware. You finished quickly and picked at your nails as you waited for the prince to finish. The private dining room inside the royal apartments was cold and empty, save for the table, the prince, and yourself.
Prince Aerion held your hand when he escorted you to your chambers, much to your disgust. Your face burnt from the impropriety of his actions. The hand he held was still warm when Genna came to prepare you for a quiet evening reading in bed.
Prince Aerion stood at the top of the Sea Dragon Tower the next afternoon. His velvet black cape flapped gently in the wind, revealing the deep red underside decorated with subtle red stitching made to look like dragon scales. You wanted to leave, but the prince had already turned his head and made eye-contact with you, his eyes telling you to stay.
You dismissed Genna and stepped outside, away from the prince. After yesterday, your guards had now increased from two to five and refused to leave your side no matter now much you asked them to. They positioned themselves a few feet away. Your jaw clenched as you looked out across Blackwater Bay, where two ships flying the sails of House Velaryon were headed towards Driftmark. As the sound of the wind grew, and the quiet shift of armor came and went, you watched one ship break away from the other and begin its way through the Gullet.
The silver-hair prince was at the tower again the next day, and your jaw ached from how hard you bit down in his presence. You decided to go to The Windwyrm the next day, a tower shaped like a snarling dragon on the other side of the castle. Prince Aerion found you again, standing with you in silence as the wind howled.
Frustrated, you returned to the Sea Dragon Tower the day after, only to be greeted by the presence of your husband shortly after your arrival. Your nails were biting into the palms of your hands when Prince Aerion finally spoke.
The words hung in the air with a finality as your guards shuffled back inside the tower. The prince did not look at you and he did not speak further, although your heart hammered in your chest because he looked as if he wished to.
You were surprised that Prince Aerion began to dismiss the guards when you were at the tower with him. For half a moon, words were spoken infrequently and sentences were short. This ended when the prince placed a black box on the thick railing in front of you and left the tower. Inside, you found a solid bracelet of the same dark metal as the necklace the prince had given you before your wedding. The metal was carved to depict a dragon's eye on one side and the pupil was inlaid with a dark red ruby.
You had a difficult time sleeping that night, so you dressed yourself at the hour of the nightingale and went to the Sea Dragon Tower with the bleary-eyed guards that stood outside the doors to your chambers. As the sun was beginning to rise, you heard the sound of your guards retreating and the soft footsteps of your husband. He walked with a lightness to his feet that you had only just recently grown accustomed to.
"Thank you for your gift," you said. Prince Aerion did not respond as he approached the railing to stand beside you. "It's beautiful," you continued.
"You're not wearing it." The prince's voice had a low, gentle quality to it as he spoke barely above a whisper.
You looked down at the simple dress you had haphazardly put on. "Genna is asleep."
The prince turned his body towards you for the first time and leaned against the railing on his arm. You could feel him scan your face as you remained frozen in watching the sea. "You've yet to wear the necklace as well."
"I have not found a suitable occasion for it," you said. Your eyes betrayed you and snuck a glance at the prince. His hair was mused from sleep and he wore a loose pair of pants and a shirt, all of which covered by a thick black cape.
"What is a suitable occasion?" he asked.
"I am not sure," you admitted.
Prince Aerion remained still for a moment before standing straight and untying the strings around his neck, his movements quick as he removed his cape and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you by the cape's fabric to face him, and you watched the prince's features grow stony as he tied the cape comfortably around your neck. When he was done, Prince Aerion walked away without looking at you. "Don't stay out here for long, you'll catch a chill."
Genna showed you another black box that evening. You looked at the black metal earrings as the rubies in them glittered by candlelight. A part of you was satisfied when Prince Aerion appeared disappointed when you did not wear them the next day. The prince's face remained neutral and calm, but his eyes would trail along your neck, your wrists, your ears, as a deep fire burned within his eyes. By the time Prince Aerion had gifted you three more bracelets, two more pairs of earrings, half a dozen rings, and several Lysene dresses, that disappointment shifted to smugness.
The prince had grown bold, often touching the fabric of your skirts or allowing his hand to stay at your waist longer than needed. You found yourself unable to concentrate enough to pull yourself away from his grasp. The heat of his closeness rendered your ability to think impossible as he held you like you would disappear at any moment. And when he slotted his soft lips against yours for the first time since the wedding, you did not know if you would ever speak again.
"I will find you in your chambers tonight," Prince Aerion whispered above the wind.
Your stomach knotted with an impossibly large pit. Your skin was sore from how the serving girls had washed you with a rough rag, but the silky nightgown Genna had brought to you soothed your warm skin. You picked at your nails as you waited, your mind turning over and over on the books you read during your pursuit to prevent your moon blood. You could only hope that the act would be quick.
Your chamber door opened and closed almost silently, and when the quiet click of your husband's heels against the floor came, you almost shivered. The lit fireplace cast an inhuman glow on the prince, those purple eyes almost white as he watched you unblinkingly. "Get on the bed."
You climbed onto your bed, not taking your eyes off of Prince Aerion, and sat with your legs folded to the side. He approached, looking you over intently as the mattress shifted under the weight of his knees. The prince placed a hand on your chest and gently pushed you down until you were laying beneath him, his weight crushing and final. His first kiss was slow, like he had all the time in the world. A hand found your waist, the fire in his blood warming you in each place your bodies connected, as you threaded your fingers through his short hair.
The kiss deepened, and Prince Aerion impatiently grabbed at your leg, which you lifted so he could run a hand down it. His scalding hand gripped the newfound curves of your thigh, pushing the hem of your nightgown up. The prince must have felt you freeze at the sensation of cool air hitting your more intimate areas, because he pulled back, sitting up and pushing your legs apart.
Your hands scrambled to cover yourself up as your face heated under your husband's gaze. "Whatโ"
Prince Aerion surged forward, pinning your hands down as his tongue uncomfortably explored between your legs. You could not remember the proper name for space you were told never to touch, and you certainly did not want to when the prince's tongue circled around an area at the top that made a sigh leave your lips. He continued with that motion, causing your breaths to lengthen and a pleasurable feeling to radiate upwards. You whined when he stopped and trailed lower, to where the pleasure lessened and where you could feel the muscles in that area clench. When Prince Aerion let go of your hands, instead of pushing him away like you wanted to, your hands gripped the sides of his face, trying to pull him up.
"Goโฆ back," you murmured.
Violet eyes caught yours, and an anger flickered through them before fading into arrogance. When his tongue returned to the place you wanted it, you felt something prod at your entrance. Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation of that something pushing inside you, and you tried to move away but a hand held you in place.
"Aerion," you fumbled for the hand at your waist keeping you pinned down, "it feels strange." You sat up on an elbow as Aerion lifted his head. the bottom half of his face shiny in the firelight. You realized that the strange feeling came from one of his fingers, which was insideโ
"It'll feel better," he said as you watched him slowly move the finger. The sensation was different; it felt deeper, like the bliss was darker and far more raw. When Aerion's finger curved and hit a section in the front, you could not contain the moan that left you. The smile on Aerion's face was horrible as he pulled his finger away. "Turn around." You were slow to do so, your arms feeling weak, and your legs tangling with Aerion's. He pulled you up by the waist effortlessly, flipped you over, and shoved you down before tapping your hip. "Up."
You lifted your hips and Aerion's immediately pushed a finger inside you, hitting the place that made you unable to think each time he moved. You instinctively reached behind you, and after a moment, Aerion's hand found yours. You gripped it hard, your nails digging into his skin hard enough for him to hiss, however he did not pull away.
"Aerion," you gasped. A pressure in your lower stomach began to build. "I'mโ"
Aerion let go of your hand and threaded his through your hair, pulling your head back as he slammed his lips against yours. Your legs shook uncontrollably when the pressure broke and pleasure flooded your body. There was a slight pain that radiated through the space between your legs when Aerion removed himself and sat back. Your heavy breaths warmed the sheets beneath you, and the rise and fall of your chest slowed. The bed shifted and you watched as Aerion climbed off your bed and reached for a towel left at your bedside. He wiped his hands before tossing the towel down to you. The silver-haired prince stared at you for a moment, his eyes cooling from a blazing fire to smoldering embers. You sat up suddenly when he turned and left your chambers without a word, the door slamming closed behind him.
Your gaze was fixed on the door for a moment, the realization of what had just occurred hitting you slowly. You pulled your nightgown down over your legs, feeling suddenly cold despite the fireplace and the warmth that still coiled in your lower stomach. Admittedly, you did not know much about the marital act, but you knew there was more required of your husband in consummation. Were you not sufficient?
The sheets and fur could not fight the chill that came to you that night.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. A light mist coated your skin as you watched the grey rain that enveloped Blackwater Bay. Even from your usual perch, you could not see Driftmark or even where the cliffs of Dragonstone dipped into the sea. Your guards stood inside the tower just out of reach of the rain. You could tell they were tired of your constant visits to the Sea Dragon Tower, especially when all you did was stand still for hours and when your husband was not around to dismiss them from their post.
He had not come to see you in days and you only discovered after the second day of not seeing your husband that he had left for the Red Keep. There were whispers of you watching over Blackwater Bay in hopes of glimpsing the sight of a ship sailing the black and red flags of House Targaryen, but it was absurd. Whether your husband stayed in King's Landing or returned to Dragonstone was no concern of yours; he could enjoy himself in the Red Keep for all you cared.
If the Seven had cursed you, they certainly took that moment to remind you of your suffering. It seemed that your guards took a collective deep breath as the familiar click of your husband's footsteps approached.
"You were not at the Great Hall to greet me at my return."
"Did you leave Dragonstone? You did not tell me," you said to the air.
Your husband's voice was sharp. "Go stand at the bottom of the stairs."
You did not look behind you as your guards shuffled down the central stairs of the tower. Your skin was freezing, chilled by the rain that soaked through your gown and ate away at the sensation in your fingers. "Will you leave again?" you asked.
"No." The tension in your chest released at his words. Your husband stepped closer, enough that you could feel the warmth radiate off of him. "Why are you standing in the rain? You'll grow ill."
"It's quieter when it rains," you said softly. "The winds aren't as strong."
"You risk your health for silence?"
You turned and looked up at the prince. "Thank you, Your Grace. Your actions have reminded me of such greatly these past days."
Your husband stared down at you with a scowl. "Are you angry I left?"
"No," you said, picking up your wet skirts to walk around him and into the tower interior.
The prince grabbed your arm and pulled you back. "All you Reynes know how to do is deceive, but the dragon knows when it is being lied to. Tell the truth."
Your gaze flicked from to ground to the sky, anything but the Targaryen who held your arm with a steely grip. "Does it matter?" you asked. "You would not care."
"I would," Prince Aerion said. "You are my wife and I want to know why she is angry."
"Then you are a liar as well."
The grip on your arm loosen and Prince Aerion reached upwards towards your neck. You expected him to grab your neck, but instead his fingers brushed against the black necklace you wore. "Why do you scorn me?" He ripped his violet eyes from the necklace and its shining ruby to map the lines of your face.
Your hands curled into fists. "All you have ever done is insult me and my family. You insult my appearance, my intellect, the things I choose to do with my time. You are cruel."
"The Reynes deserve insult."
Your lip curled. "The Celtigars do not. They are staunchly loyal to your family and you hurl disgusting words at them because they do not look Valyrian."
Prince Aerion's eyes narrowed. "Those kinds of words have not been uttered by me since childhood. The blood of Valyria still runs strong in the Celtigars, even if they do not look it."
You considered his words. "And when you said I disgrace the blood of Valyria?"
"I though you were trying to drown yourself," the prince said, his brows furrowing. "We came from the dragonlords. To die by your own hand would be to disregard our blood and the place that House Celtigar carved for itself in old Valyria and Westeros."
You stepped back. "Why does this concern you?"
"You are my wife," Prince Aerion said, taking a step to fill the gap you had created.
A trickle of rain ran down your spine and you almost shivered. "Our marriage was arranged. Your care for me is out of obligation and I ask you to stop."
Prince Aerion shook his head and leaned in, his hand burning the back of your neck when he reached for it. "You have been mine since you were five and I was six. My care is not a falsity. You are the only one I can or will ever love, until the end of my days." He kissed you, hot and forceful, as if to prove his words.
You pushed him away. "You neglected me for a month after our wedding and left me at Dragonstone while you went back to King's Landing. You have visited pleasure houses and barely spoken to me in the time we are together."
Prince Aerion let out a huff through his nose. "You have only ever detested me and when the maesters advised against consummation in fear of your health if you were with child, I thought I would enjoy having a neglectful husband. And I have not laid with a woman since I received word in Lys to return to Westeros. My loyalty to you has been paramount."
"Not even when you went to King's Landing without me?" you spat.
"I returned to King's Landing to lie to my father about bedding you," the prince hissed. "Dragonstone has less prying eyes and I can at least control the information that leaves this place."
You watched the rain, which had grown heavier, soak through Prince Aerion's black doublet. You surprised yourself by leaned in. "Prove it to me."
Prince Aerion slammed his lips into yours, pulling you against him. He held you like you would disappear at any moment, hands grabbing harshly at your ass and waist. You kissed him back, your lips awkward and clumsy as your palms slid up his chest. The rain invaded each kiss. Aerion pulled away, his breath heavy as his forehead rested against yours. "You will marry me in the ways of old Valyria."
Aerion's eyes were cold. "Yes. You want proof of my devotion." His kisses were soft this time, trailing slowly along your jaw and down your neck. The heat of his mouth scorched your skin, causing you to shiver and your hair to stand on end.
As you rolled your head back, the chilling rains over Dragonstone came down in heavy droplets that made you feel like you were drowning. The air did not feel as cold in the arms of the dragon prince.
