unknown!era!aemondxmaid!OC
warnings: heartbreak, suicide - trigger warning!!
authors’ note: this is a story set in an unknown time period, it is of your choosing. my own characters are: evie and the characters who are servants. also, helaena and aegon don’t exist in this story. alicent and viserys ARE NOT king and queen, instead they are lord and lady of the manor. this was originally are story of my own creation with characters of my own but i changed it to be an aemond fanfiction. if you see the name of Benjamin thrown around, please note that that is aemond. although that shouldn’t be an issue because i’ve been through it numerous times. have a good time reading! <3
Her skirts kick up loose grey pebbles as she makes her way to the grand old house, standing tall like a prison. The red brick imposing over the dying grass, yellow and pale with drought; the windows perfectly reflecting the hot sun that shone on her back, making her arms drip with sweat as she carried her ladies belongings. Lady Alicent swept the ground without an ounce of feet touching the floor, Evie wondered numerous times how someone could be so graceful, how someone could float an inch off the ground without odd looks.
They came to the marble archway that welcomed them to the front courtyard, decorated with green vines and a large white stone fountain that spouted fresh water that made the air cooler; as Evie passed it towards the back of the house, she felt stray spurts of water delicately spit at her. Other servants were milling about for whatever reason, stopping every so often to dip a bow or curtsey to Lady Alicent as she held her nose high. They come to the bed chamber, Lady Alicent throws herself onto the bed removing her bonnet and throwing it to her slight feet. Evie sets about unpacking the clothing from the past week, where she had to accompany her mistress to the city for poverty relief where Lady Alicent kept appearances; to make her more likeable and humble but Evie knew it would never work.
“Draw me a bath, would you?” She sighs, running her gloves down her wrinkled face. Evie doesn’t respond, she knows better than too, and enters the small bathroom attached to the chamber, towards the tub and runs it with hot water. She sits on the side, her hand running across the hot water; her skin softening and her body seemingly hydrating itself as she stares into her reflection. Her hand dips into the rose petal glass and she scatters them over the surface as her mistress undresses and sets herself inside. She scrubs at her nails, despite there being no dirt and scrubs at her face as if ridding herself of disease;
“Can never be too careful, Evie. You don’t know what they have, most of them are riddled with sinful diseases.” She shudders at the thought. Evie, again, doesn’t respond and instead looks out to the back garden through the window, the pale grass sways stiffly in the hot breeze; gardeners struggle with the rose bushes and Lady’s daughters walk arm in arm giggling to each other. Evie let her mind wander to the week prior, at how Lady Alicent and other Rah’s sat at a makeshift table in a community hall, discussing between themselves about debutante balls and the newest fashion trend; this month, silk handkerchiefs were all the rage. Evie watched from the back as skinny girl to skinny girl to rounded bellied girls plead and beg for money and shelter. The majority of the girls were dismissed, they claimed due to lack of funding but anyone with a single brain cell knows that they refused due to their living as prostitutes. During those hard moments, watching those girls go from weeping to broken, she remembered the way her mother begged for a scrap of bread to feed her three daughters. Evie, the eldest, sold wood carvings on market days and came home with enough pennies to buy mutton and bread, which would last them two weeks. Lady Alicent and the Rah’s were people Evie were supposed to hate, women that refused women due to their social status; after all, they were the ones who left Catherine to die in the arms of another stranger she so often met on the docks.
Lady Alicent showed some humility and respect for Evie, however, she gave her mother and sisters a place to rent and a chance to work in the gardens and kitchens respectively so Evie would forever be in her debt. Lady Alicent is unusual, some might say, she’s cold, uncaring and suspicious but at times she shows respect and humour and compassion.
“Help me out and then help me choose a dress,” Evie complies and her mistress is out and sat at her vanity in no time, “my sons are coming for a dinner tonight, I must look like I’m not getting any older.” She orders, she pulls the skin of her face back to even out the wrinkles but it doesn’t work because they are set deep within her face. Evie picks out a lilac dress that accentuates her womanly figure, a woman who has birthed six children back to back, her hair pinned up to God and light make up that brings a youthful glow. A few strides behind her, they tiptoe down the stairs - Evie being more heavy footed - and halt by the large oak door that held a mysterious dining room that Evie has never been allowed to use,
“When i ring the bell, you must wait out here and i will meet you in good time,” Evie dipped her head as a sign of acknowledgment. Lady Alicent eyed her for a moment, then turned to the door. A raucous laughter came from inside and then some excited exclamations from Lady Alicent. Evie turned on her heel to walk down to the servants quarters where she usually naps, eats or tends to some sewing. Tonight, she will hopefully do the latter.
She opens the door, a tiny brown door that has about five yards of solid ground before a thin spiral staircase that leads to a dark corridor with oil lanterns that flicker from the smallest possible breeze. Her feet land on the ground and laughter, gossip and cutlery clattering filter through the corridor; the door on the left is where most people down here spend their time, a large room with a rocky wooden table and too many old chairs from the house that were too old to be seen by fashionable society or broken ones. As she enters, James; Lord Viserys’ valet, sits hunched some laces that he obviously is finding difficult to handle because of his tremor; Mia, Lady Grace’s maid, sits opposite, flirting with George, an under butler who has obviously abandoned his work to flirt with her. When Evie enters, Mia pushes a chair open and invites her to sit,
“Evie, do tell this man that Lady Grace, does indeed read!” She gestures towards George who isn’t concerned about my entrance but instead staring at Mia’s clavicle. Evie simply rolled her eyes and turns towards her bag, a hat inside is to be mended; she pulls it out, sets it on the table and inspects where it needs to be mended,
“What’s for dinner tonight?” Henry, a footman, came in, “they’ve got all kinds up there! It’s making me hungry,” he pouts,
“I heard they’re eating honey roasted goose with a plethora of grilled vegetables,” Mia commented, patting down her skirts,
“Even more than that, it’s like Henry VIII’s feasts up there,” he moans,
“It’s because her favourites are here,” James speaks, Evie perks up for the first time,
“Favourites?” Everyone looks at her,
“Aemond and Daeron are her favourites, everyone knows that. Mainly because they’re boys,” Mia shrugs, “it happens, we’d be the same, Evie.”
“They’re sweet boys,” James says, some kind of affection entering into her normally dulcet voice, “Daeron especially, he’s the kind one, Aemond… he’s a quiet guy, can’t read him.”
Then the table falls silent as the footmen leave with plates of food and jugs upon jugs of red wine that will make Lady Alicent feral for the rest of the night, Evie sighs at the sight of it, then gets back to her work.
After gossip, beef stew with weak red wine, laughter and mending, the bell rang three times for Evie, Mia and James. They scrape back their chairs and head upstairs, they wait in silence in front of the door to the dining room; loud laughter and music drifts through the thickness of the door. Once the door opens, Lord Viserys is the first to exit, giving a stern nod towards James and they depart. James always has to be ten feet behind the Lord. Lady Grace, in her blonde glory is the second to leave, Mia follows her shoulder to shoulder like two childhood friends and Evie is left alone to wait, she waits for some time before the next one exits. A man with long blonde hair with a boyish sharp to his face and freckles that make leopard spots look like stripes; he’s tall with a build that would send Mother Nature herself into a coma and lips that match the boyish jawline. Evie diverts her eyes, down to his polished shoes, he smiles softly at her shyness and dips his head towards the footmen who have his brown coat and hat. He exits without a word or sound and Evie keeps her eyes down for the whole time.
“Did you see my handsome boys?” Lady Alicent asks whilst sitting at her vanity and removing her silk gloves,
“No, milady.” Evie responds quietly, removing pins and clips from her hair and letting the brown with streaks of grey cascade in clusters over her back, she takes a comb and finely calms the hair from the birds nest it was.
“My boys are so sweet, i am so lucky to have birthed them, all natural, not that disgusting muck that our Queen has taken for hers,” she literally shudders at the thought as she climbs into bed with her hair plaited and a coif over the top to stop her hair from fraying.
Evie wishes her a goodnight with an armful of dresses that need to be thrown or mended so Evie has a late night ahead of her. She treads carefully down the steps, making sure the dresses don’t drag in front of her. But, of course, as things tend to go, the bottom of the dress caught under her shoe and she collided with the floor, missing two steps in the fall. She struggles to her feet, her ankle obviously bleeding from the fall, she saves the dresses from dust and blood and finally stands tall on her feet,
“Are you okay?” A disembodied voice floats like a lullaby in the wind from the shadows, Evie steps back to the wall, her heart suddenly racing, “no need to look scared,” he laughs gently and steps into the dull light of the candle. The man from before has returned, holding a small glass of port with his coat on, he smiles gently at Evie’s deer-in-the-headlights look,
“I am fine, sir. Thank you, sir.” She says quietly and attempts to walk but a seething pain runs from her ankle to her knee,
“You don’t look fine, let me see,” he walks quickly towards her, “sit down on the bottom step here,” he gently presses on her shoulders, not using force, she plants herself on the bottom step, her ankle on fire and her head misty,
“Sir, really, I am fine. It just needs some rest, that’s all,” she attempts to rise but his hand calmly presses her down again,
“I am going to fetch you some ice,” he looks around, “where is the servants quarters?” He asks, removing her shoe and revealing her dirty foot,
“Down there,” she points towards the door and he disappears as quickly as he appeared. She rests her shoulder against the wall, waiting for the mystery son to come back. He arrives hastily with Miss Tucker, the Housekeeper, and her keys jingle in the dark light; that’s a telltale sign that she’s on her way when you can’t see her,
“Silly girl,” she mutters under her breath, struggling to her knees and placing a bag of ice on Evie’s ankle, “and these dresses must be cleaned before you mend them, your clumsiness has given you a whole nights work!” She shout whispers,
“Miss Tucker, I can take over from here,” he says,
“But sir you need to go, you have a schedule tomorrow,” she says,
“Go, I’ll be fine with it,” he says more sternly and she nods and leaves but not before shooting Evie a mean look. There’s a moment of silence as the ice compress is taken from her skin, the keys chiming away in the distance, he looks at the ankle and goes to press it again.
“She scares me,” Evie whispers, usually she’s never the one to speak first, but this situation is none other and there’s a stranger with an ice pack so she will have to speak,
“She’s always scared me,” he chuckles, “that stern look makes me rattle with fear, I don’t know how the servants can handle her,” he leans his back against the wall,
“We can’t,” she laughs gently, the atmosphere calm and serene whilst the ache in her ankle feels mended, but for some reason… she can’t find it in herself to say she now feels fine because this moment is the exact measurement of peace she has been looking for,
“I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Aemond,” he flashes a smile of two crooked front teeth whilst the other ones stood in perfect shape and form, Evie felt herself blush and thanked the night for masking it,
“Evie, Lady Alicent’s maid,” she offers him a handshake and he takes it, his hand engulfing her own and shakes it softly but stern,
“Evie,” he tests her name on his lips, liking the way they mouthed out of his mouth, “Evie… Evie what?”
“Kitch,” she smiles, “my name is rather lowly compared to yours.”
“Not at all, it’s a beautiful name, Evie Kitch.” He smiles and for a moment they keep eye contact, he searches her blue eyes that darkened when she stared back at him, he searches for a thought, of anything. But he found none. Evie found his eyes soft and kind and humble, and for some odd reason his lips seem to curl into a heart and it takes her off guard so she peels her eyes from his and begins to stand. Whilst she does this, Aemond is instantly on his feet with his arms readying her to stand, she blushes more intensely,
“Should I escort you back?” He asks, picking up the dresses and folding them to give back to her,
“No need, sir. I can make it myself. Have a good night,” she can’t look at him so she hastily exits from the scene and he finds himself watching as her braided hair bounces behind her, her black dress slightly dragging on the floor and he swears to get her something that fits.
Evie spends most of the night sewing on jewels for the dresses or mending the collar or throwing them away because the stitches are so loose that there’s no saving them anyway. Her bad ankle is a distant memory, instead the sight of Aemond searching her face is burned into her, she smiles and hums to herself as she finalises a few things before bunking down for the remainder of the night.
The next day, the sun shines high in the sky as the family have a day of croquet, Lady Alicent, of course, sits under her parasol with a cup of red wine whilst looking at the game a few metres in front of her. Lord Viserys and James are in the lead with the most balls through the holes, Aemond and Daeron kick up a fuss like most boys do when their fathers win, Grace and Stephanie laugh and chat over the small spats. Whilst Evie doesn’t look, tending to her mistress and going to and fro from the buffet table to fetch her some food or drinks; Aemond steals looks, he watches her petite face break into a small smile or sniffle at the dust collecting around her, he watches how she sways when she walks and how she listens intently to her mistress.
“Son!” Lord Viserys shouts, Aemond snaps out his trance and turns to him, “it’s your go.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Daeron asks and then looks out and sees the girl looking at her feet, “oh goodness, don’t say you’re attracted to the poor girl mummy hired three months ago,”
“Of course not,” he titters and aims his croquet stick, “mummy just looks poorly is all, is she okay?” Daeron feels unbalanced at that question but decides not to respond.
The family go inside for luncheon, Evie walking next to Mia, they small talk about the days activities when Aemond manages to break up the couple. He doesn’t know what to say so he just smiles like it’s normal he’s in between them, Mia finds some excuse to rid herself of the awkwardness,
“How is your ankle?” He questions awkwardly,
“Fine, sir,” she replies, smiling meekly,
“You don’t have to call me sir,” he laughs a little, “Aemond is just fine.” Before Evie could reply, he was whisked away by his younger brother and they continued their walk inside separate, she stands there, a spot behind her suddenly cold, she watches as he turns back slightly to mouth an apology; she just bows her head and her feet automatically begin to move, that cold spot still lingering beside her. Evie, Mia and James make their way to the servants quarters as the family sit at the luncheon table. When they sit, as Evie awaited, Mia piped up with her loud northern voice;
“What was that?” She says, her eyes wild as they sit next to each other with the other servants, waiting for their luncheons,
“What?” Evie asks, feigning naivety,
“No, don’t put on that cute voice. Young Lord came to you! He spoke to you! Actually spoke to you!” She exclaims,
“Keep your voice down, it’s nothing serious so please don’t make it out that way,” the food reaches their table and Evie instantly reaches for the freshly made bread and butters it,
“You seem so calm at the fact the YOUNG LORD came to you,” she rolls her eyes and scoffs,
“I had an accident last night, he was there so he helped me out, it’s what anyone would do.” Evie shrugs, ripping her bread with her teeth,
“If we could keep gossip to a minimum.” Vickers, the butler, orders.
The rest of the lunch is petty arguments over garments or who said what and it seems to drag on before the bells begin ringing. The rest of the day went as normal days go, Lady Alicent spends her Monday’s in the library where she cannot be disturbed and Evie learned from early on to only be around her mistress if she calls for it. So Evie mends dresses, she speaks with Mia, she gives James some shoes to polish and helps with the delivery of fruit and vegetables. Mia gives her a few looks, knowing looks and smirks whenever Evie blushes.
The bell rings for the library, Evie knows it must be for her, so she stops her sewing and kicks her feet towards the library;
“Milady?” She asks the dead air, the walls of colourful books stare down at her and large canvas paintings of the family impose the room. Above the fireplace, a large portrait of Aemond, Daeron, Grace and Stephanie hangs; no hint of smiles or hint of happiness, the portrait exudes superiority. With Aemond and Daeron standing tall with their hands on their hips, staring out at the viewer, their eyes staring a hole straight through her;
“I was seventeen when that was painted,” the disembodied voice frightens her and she whips around 360 to see Aemond standing there, his lips slightly curled upwards into a smile, Evie’s heart hammers against her chest, “I think mother should get a new one done, I’m twenty four now, I don’t look so young,” Evie giggles,
“You look perfectly young for twenty four, sir,” she says, a random burst of confidence,
“Mother will be back soon, but I wanted to grab the opportunity,” he walks towards her slowly, his eyes locked onto hers, “your ankle, how is it?” His eyes cast down to her hidden ankle underneath those long skirts, Evie wasn’t expecting that, his stutter makes her smile and she looks down,
“All fine, sir,” she says, “I don’t think I properly thanked you for your time,”
“You don’t need too, I was happy to help,” he smiles, his hands behind his back, “can I show you something?” Evie nods and follows him towards the end bookshelf, he reaches up and pulls out a red bind book, “this is something I think you should read,”
“Why; sir?” She asks, taking the book from him and examining it with her hands, it read “Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde”
“It’s an interesting read and I’ve heard from some people that you love to read, no one in the servants quarters reads or knows how too,” he says. Evie traced her finger over the golden thread that lettered the title, the small bumps and grooves,
“You spoke to my mother and sister?” The realisation hits her and her head snaps up, a genuine smile encompasses her face, Aemond’s heart racks against his chest as her dimples show deep within her cheeks,
“I wanted to know about the mysterious girl who fell down the stairs last night so i asked around,” he shrugs like it’s nothing but no one has had much interest in Evie, she has been a fly on the wall for her twenty three years, someone people look over and speak over and think nothing about. She’s been that way from the beginning, living crumb by crumb until she was picked up by the Targaryen family and her family were able to live under the radar in the confines of a comfortable roof. Only once has someone shown some kind of interest in her, in her likes and even her injuries - and he’s standing right in front of her.
Overcome with happiness and joy and all things included, she threw her arms around the richer man. He stumbles backwards but his hands reach her middle back, he sets her stably on her feet and she doesn’t feel humiliated because he found an interest in her,
“How can I repay you, sir?” She asks, the smile never leaving her face,
“Just read it,” he smiles and they look at each other fondly before the door slams and Lady Alicent appears,
“Ah, Evie, there you are,” she rips off her gloves, “what’s this?” She takes the book from my hands, Aemond steps back with his hands behind his back,
“I gave her my favourite book, mother,” he never takes his eyes away from her and her heart skips at the realisation of her having his favourite book. Whilst Lady Alicent is examining the contents of the book, Evie places both hands on her heart and he smiles slightly,
“Women shouldn’t read,” she states, “but I’ll let it slide because my son has great taste.” She hands it back and pinches his cheeks, he blushes and Evie giggles slightly which earns a look from her,
“Let me leave you ladies alone,” he bows his head and saunters away, Evie doesn’t stop looking at him,
“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” She sighs, “anyway, dress me, you will have no mending tonight or sewing so you’re free with your evening as you please.”
Nighttime fell and Evie dressed in her thin nightgown, curls up against her wooden headboard, her fingers wandering around the soft fabric of the book and grooves of the letters. The heat of the night filters into the room as she opens onto the first page and instantly she is transported, her mind suddenly a vivid image of light and colour, the characters entering her realm of existence and her eyes scanning every page at breakneck speed. Light comes around very quickly, she slept a wink and decides to dress herself early in the day so she can read in the natural light of the servants dining room. But when she arrives, Mia instantly stands up,
“You’re the talk of the kitchen!” She hisses, “Young Lord gave you a book?”
“So what?” She questions,
“So what?” She repeats, “you are literally nothing and he gave you a book! That’s immense!”
“Whoa, no need to kick me below the belt, it was a nice gesture, let’s leave it at that.” And with that they went on with their days.
“Evie,” Lady Alicent calls from the staircase, “get your riding gear on, we are going hunting.” Evie nods and races to her room, collecting all her riding clothes and hunting rifles for her mistress and meets everyone outside the front of the house, Aemond is deep in conversation with his brother,
“Evie, you have joined us,” Daeron says, it takes her aback because she never knew he knew her name, “what a pleasure it is to have you here.” He takes her hand and dips a wet kiss onto it, Evie fights to retrieve her hand,
“Don’t be a pig, Daeron,” Grace spits, pulling on her leather gloves, “ignore him, he likes pretty girls.” Grace has always been kind to Evie, even when they see each other little to never. They share a smile and Grace gives her a kind wink before Lady Alicent turns for her hat to be fixed properly on her head,
“You don’t have to ride next to me, ride with Mia,” she says and scampers off to her husband who helps her onto the horse. Evie approaches a black horse with large brown eyes, beautiful eyes,
“Look after him, he’s my favourite,” Aemond whispers which causes Evie to blush and hide her face, “I asked for him, yet mother has no idea how many black horses we have so as far as she knows, I am the one that’s riding Buttons.” His slightly crooked smile sends her heart into her lungs and suddenly it’s hard to breathe, she dips her head as a thank you. He gave her his favourite horse, he gave her the privilege of this and she will take it in her stride;
“You have got to tell me what’s happening with you two!” Mia hisses, hitching her horse reins,
“Mia, do you really think he would find any interest in me? Everyone downstairs says that he’s kind… so it’s nothing but him being a nice person,” Evie shrugs and the group begin trotting off towards the nearby forest, plush emerald greens sway in the hot breeze. Aemond is ahead of the group with his valet and his brother, they are laughing heartily at something Daeron had said; Lady Alicent rides in silence, her lips pressing together; Lord Viserys chats to his youngest daughter Grace, they are smiling with each other and they break into song every so often which irritates Lady Alicent further.
Once they’re at the fields, birds fly high and the family take centre stage, pointing their rifles and watching James and a couple footmen run towards the corpse to pick it up so it can be plucked for food later. Mia and Evie sit with some sandwiches they had packed in the morning; Benjamin takes a quick look at Evie whilst she laughs when a breeze knocks her hair piece into the grass, she doesn’t notice him but he notices her habit to tuck non existing hair behind her ear when her cheeks blush and the way her eyes crease at the corners when she squints, probably in order to see something in the distance that her natural eyesight cannot withheld;
“He’s looking at you,” Mia whispers, leaning back on her elbows, Evie’s heart somehow skips a beat, “have a look.”
“Just look,” she rolls her eyes and pushes her arm gently. Evie, hesitantly, turns her head towards Aemond’s direction and as if luck would have it, his head snaps back to the rifles that shoot through the air and the birds that collide to the hard ground. She tucks a bit of hair behind her ear and she turns to Mia, whose eyes are twinkling, “you’ve gone all red.” Evie hides her face beneath her palms and snorts, which then causes both of them to collapse into laughter.
Aemond hears the laughter drifting through the dry air and instantly his hairs stand on edge, he looks back and sees Evie with her head back and collapsing into the dirt beneath her; her eyes glisten with tears as Mia pulls her up from the ground, Aemond smiles and chuckles to himself,
“What’s got you laughing, son?” Lord Viserys asks, throwing the rifle behind his back, his whispers of grey beard dangling awkwardly,
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, “ready to go?” Lord Viserys grunts in response. Aemond watches as Mia and Evie struggle to get their things and their ladies things into a woven basket; without thinking, he stalks to them and bends his knees, tucking the blankets and the plates into the basket without a word and as he stands, he feels all eyes on him,
“Always such a good boy!” Mother comes running towards him and pinches his cheeks, Aemond’s cheeks grow red, “come on, let’s get some luncheon.” She hastily walks off, Lady Grace following behind her. Evie’s legs don’t want to move, she knows she must but just one look at him would make her feel better and less humiliated that everyone is staring. Before she can move a muscle, Aemond walks past her, but his fingers graze hers which are behind her back and for a moment there seems to be a linger.
Nighttime falls, the moon high in the sky that shines through the long windows in Lady Alicent’s bedroom; she sits patiently as Evie plaits her long hair down the middle of her spine, her spindly fingers working quickly as her Lady hums to herself. Evie spends this time in a mist, unfurling towards her, her hands feeling the warm softness of Aemond as his fingers touched hers secretly and wanting; the most delicate of all touches and yet it ignited a blossoming fire inside of her, her heart pitching every moment of when his fingernail caught her slightly and without the feeling of pain, how he can look at her with those piercing eyes and how his freckles lighten up his boyish face; how good he looks when the sun shines directly onto him like God has chosen him for the best mould of man. She sighs gently to herself, finding herself lost in a world full of sunlight and yellows before she realises that Lady Alicent is chattering to her;
“What do you think, Evie?” She asks,
“About what, milady?” She questions, tying a ribbon around the end of her braid,
“My daughter Grace is out in society, as you know, and she is in need of a credible bachelor,” she sighs, “Grace is young but she won’t get any younger, Stephanie is showing signs of a spinster drawn to the life of reading and writing so I’m looking towards Grace,” she reaches into her vanity drawer, “I have three eligible bachelors and I want your opinion on them.” She unfolds three photos in murky brown, three men who all look the same but Lady Alicent’s pleading eyes make Evie take a hasty decision,
“This one,” he points towards the man in the middle with the moustache. Lady Alicent hums in response and stores all pictures away,
“Interesting taste,” she says and climbs into bed without another word,
“Milady.” Evie whispers and picks up the shoes that need mending after today’s hunting session and makes her way downstairs. The oil lamps glimmer little spots of light as she makes her way through the corridor, large canvas paintings of landscapes and renaissance art of people who have come before; she wishes she could stand and admire them one day; she silently tiptoes down the stairs, making sure to miss the spots where the steps creak and she plants her feet solely on the floor without making a sound until a familiar voice swam through the air like a shark finding its prey;
“I’m glad you didn’t fall this time,” Benjamin appears from the library,
“My Lord,” Evie bows and lifts her head up to see Aemond basking in the moonlight glory. The shimmer of moonlight glows around him like a halo, like he was meant to be in her life, like he was an angel. He smiles softly at her, no one says a word, they simply look at each other with their round eyes and parted lips. Evie looks beautiful as the moon glitters her face, as she looks at him with those bright blue eyes of hers and how she doesn’t peel away from the eyesight; he wants to step closer but he can’t, he doesn’t want to overstep any boundary;
“I am enjoying the book, sir,” she finally says, her eyes finding a new spot to focus on, which happens to be the door behind him,
“I’m glad,” he chokes on his words. A slight awkward chill flows through the air like an uninvited guest, both parties want to say something but can’t find the words. The tips of their tongues swell with anticipation but they daren’t say anything,
“I should probably go mend Milady’s shoes,” she shows the shoes as if Aemond never noticed them in her hand, turns on her heel and walks down the hallway. His hands curl into fists at his sides as he internally punches himself, he watches her hand gently pull on the handle before his automatic response to charge towards her. She’s taken by surprise but she welcomes his warm arms as they clutch onto her elbows, he wills her with no words to look up; their eyes meet, hers full of confusion, guilt and a kind of fear before he cups her chin with his soft hand, he doesn’t know what he should do so he lets fate take their bodies into its hands and their heads come close, carefully but also frantically; he doesn’t want to hurt her, they butt noses ever so gently and their lips touch. A spark ignites, a small fire made in a forest on a dark night and flames ignited in their bellies as their lips touch faster, stronger and heavier. He cups her face in his hand, and they move fluidly in sync as they explore each other.
Evie is the first one to pull away, her lips heavy and blossoming as she looks into his eyes,
“Sir,” she manages to whisper, “we can’t do this,” she steps back a little but he matches her distance and cups her face into his hands,
“Evie, i have been waiting to do this, so please just let me,” and she nods and their lips touch again, that same spark flaming higher and higher.
The following night, they meet in the room behind the staircase. There’s a window with a bench that overlooks the gardens where rose bushes and large trees hang overhead, Evie sits there, her bum pressed against the hard wood as Aemond sits opposite her, admiring the slender slope of her nose as she stares out at the moonlit bushes and the trembling shake of light wind. Her dress falls loosely on her and Aemond remembers how he promised himself to get her a new one, a pretty one that accentuates her bright eyes and her beautiful skin tone; now he wants to reach over and pull her in, mask his own body with hers, smell her and feel her skin, the way it feels in her own body, he wants to feel in him. But the way she sits there, so mesmerised by her surroundings, by the way she almost presses her face against the glass;
“Shall we go outside?” He questions, she looks at him perplexed,
“You seem like you want to go outside, so let’s go,” he stands up and offers his arm. Evie stands, patting down her skirts and slithering her arm through his, he tucks her into his side and kisses her temple softly before they make their way, secretly, into the gardens. Her skirts kick up pebbles like always but this time just that bit delicately, she feels like she’s floating by his side and he’s the only one to ground her. The soft night breeze ruffles his hair ever so slightly as they walk along a path lined with rose bushes and sunflowers,
“I have never walked here at nighttime,” he admits,
“I’ve never walked here,” she says,
“Doesn’t your mother work here, in the gardens?” He questions and she nods but says nothing else; her mother probably planted these rose bushes and it wouldn’t surprise her because they are beautifully planted and here in the midst of the roses and the fantastical night air, she turns to him, she holds his hands between them both; clutching both hands to her chest and he leans down to kiss her, an inaudible sign to kiss. Their mouths move lovingly, gentle and sweet like they had all the time in the world. Until one of the windows clashes open,
“Aemond!?” Lady Alicent’s voice rings loud through the air, Aemond halts for a second and pushes Evie into the nearby rose bush which earns a scowl and a snort of laughter from Evie as she tucks herself between the thorns,
“Yes, mother,” he calls up to her, Evie peeks through the thorns and roses to see her lady almost hanging out of the window and then back to Benjamin who stands there almost proud that he’s hiding a servant in a bush,
“What are you doing out here?” She asks,
“I couldn’t sleep, mother. I just wanted a nighttime walk.” The excuse is laughable, Evie covers her hand to stop the giggling but it gets harder when Aemond sucks in his cheeks to stop laughing,
“Are you alright?” And the conversation goes on as mundane as can be until Lady Alicent finally shuts her window, shuts off the oil lamp and goes to sleep. Aemond looks over at the rose bush, he saunters over there and gets to his knees,
“We almost got caught,” he flashes a cheeky smile and dodges the thorns to get to her, she laughs as he begins to kiss her; ignoring the thorns pressing into their legs.
The next day, the sun rises high into the sky as the family and servants take to the fields again to hunt. Aemond and Daeron laugh together, Aemond taking a few looks at Evie at any moment he can without being seen and sends her a wink or a smile. She smiles back, and sits in the sun beside Mia;
“Don’t think I’m not noticing anything,” she whispers and nudges her in the shoulder. She laughs and the two sit silently.
“You finally arrived! The men are so boring with their hunting,” Lady Grace screams with excitement. Mia and Evie turn to see a group of men and women, all alike in their natural grace and the girl at the front runs to Lady Grace and envelopes her in a hug. Once she breaks from the hug, the girl is breathtakingly beautiful. With blonde ringlets that cascade down her shoulders, masked with emerald green eyes and red lips that part when she looks into the distance; her pale eyelashes flutter and she walks with ease over the hilly landscape towards the men who are hunting. Evie’s heart hammers in her chest, whether with jealousy or something she doesn’t have a hold of yet, as she makes her way to Aemond. His heart drops suddenly when he notices her, knowing exactly why she’s here and exactly why he wanted to put it off for so long. She smiles that broad lipped smile as she hugs everyone she sees and now he finds he cannot look at Evie;
“Who is that?” Evie asks,
“I’ve no idea.” Mia answers truthfully.
That night, Aemond waits in their spot with a dress wrapped finely with paper, he waits anxiously as he checks his watch, she’s late by ten minutes so maybe after the scene today she doesn’t want to see him. But she appears. As radiant and as beautiful as ever and any anxiety, any hurt, any lingering feelings disappear as they both fall into each other’s arms. He kisses her lips, her cheeks, her nose and her eyes, missing every part of her that he wants to hold, watch and caress every second of the day. She lets him take her weight as her arms wrap around his neck, their lips working at each other as if they are hungry animals. He finally breaks the kiss and shows the present in between them, she is breathing heavily as she looks at it;
“What is this, Aemond?” She asks, she takes it in her hands and as he watches, she pulls open the paper to find a smart, black dress with threading that must’ve been custom made, “Aemond…”
“It’s yours, i see what they put you in downstairs, i want to see you in something that makes you even more beautiful than you already do,” he tucks her hair behind her ear as he softly speaks,
“What will I tell them downstairs?” She questions,
“Just say you bought it with money saved up, they won’t question it,” he whisper kisses her skin, “i want to see you in it tomorrow, it’ll be the greatest honour.”
As she wakes up, the birds tweet and the sunny ambiance of the morning sends her into a blissful wake. She steps out of bed and eyes the dress which hangs proudly over the door, the black embroidered bodice with roses that shape the entire body, and the skirt that hangs loose over the hips. She steps into it, tightening it herself and her hair she lets cascade over her shoulders in its wavy form, she applies some lip rouge before stepping into the servants dining room where Mia sits, sewing a broach onto Lady Grace’s hat, she looks up;
“Oh my! Evie don’t you look wonderful!” She throws her arms up, “where on earth did you get that?” Evie takes a place beside her,
“You can’t tell anyone,” out of everyone in the servants quarters, Mia is the only one she trusts with such solid words, “Aemond had it custom made for me!” She whispers excitedly. Mia’s eyes shudder at the mention of Aemond’s names from those excited lips, but she tries to mask it and smiles thin lipped before returning to her work;
“Mia? What is it?” She asks, suddenly worried that she shouldn’t have said anything,
“It’s beautiful, the Young Lord has good taste,” Mia doesn’t look up,
“What is it, Mia?” She questions harder this time and Mia looks up, her mouth parting but she’s cut off by the bell ringing for her. Evie looks up and scrapes her chair back to see to her mistress, her mind reeling with thoughts and questions and even fear. She climbs the steps and sees Aemond about to descend, she expects him to look at her and be taken aback, but he looks at her with a dead stare, without a hint of a smile and he exits the staircase without a second glance.
Lady Alicent sits at her vanity, her hair already pinned up as she chats wildly about gossip she overheard from yesterdays events but Evie can only look at her reflection and how stupid she feels wearing the dress he gave her;
“You and the servants will be needed in the library at noon,” Lady Alicent says sternly, “be prompt.”
Evie sits on the end of her own bed, her mind wandering into places that she doesn’t want to be. She picks at her nails until they bleed, causing a hiss of pain escape her mouth. The entirety of the house is acting odd, acting like they’re hiding something or maybe they’re being so exposing with it that Evie is too stupid to even notice. But noon rolls around and the servants are called to the library.
Inside the library is Aemond with his siblings and parents, but not only them, the girl from yesterday whose name is Lady Alys, her skin glowing under the reflection of the windows, she stands by her parents but also oddly close to Aemond. He turns around to see the servants, his eyes scanning and almost praying for Evie to disobey her rules but like the person she is, she’s here and she looks worried. Aemond wants to run to her, to tell her not to be so worried but he knows it would amount to nothing.
“Evie, please give a nice glass of wine to everyone,” Lady Alicent orders, Evie nods, staying silent and picks up the wine glasses and hands them to people on a silver tray,
“Servants, family, we called you here today because we have some exciting news,” Lord Viserys bellows, Evie tries to listen over the rushing in her head, “we’re here to celebrate the engagement of our son,” oh no, “and the lovely, most beautiful girl in the county, Lady Alys.” Evie feels something akin to a rock crash into her head and she drops the tray of wine, the wine sloshing onto the - thankfully - red carpet. Her heart thunders against her chest, her head spinning and Mia runs up to help her, grabbing her hand with hers and she feels the trembling ricochet through her. Evie can’t think, she can’t breathe, she can’t see; tears form and she wills them to go, to suck back into her eyes but they drop one by one onto the carpet. Mia grabs her hand and pulls her up, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her back to the group of servants that have stopped looking at them. Aemond swallows harshly as Lady Alys nuzzles against his arm, Aemond knows he must say something so he sticks with the most basic of all sayings;
“I am the happiest man alive.” He lies. Although it’s the most basic of sayings when someone is to be married, it still sends a shock wave through Evie’s body. Her body almost caves in and Mia holds her up, she cannot look up, she cannot see the happiest man alive with someone who is not her. So she keeps her eyes to floor.
She lies in her bed, on her side, tears seeping into the pillow at a time where Aemond could be waiting for her behind the staircase but it’s unlikely that he will be. He will be with his wife to be, happy and healthy and probably laughing at her funny jokes or kissing her more passionately than he ever kissed Evie and it angers her, it angers her that he is married off to another woman, a beautiful woman who can’t be hated because of her beauty. She can’t even be hated for falling in love with a man whom Evie loves. Aemond fleets into her mind, his sharp face breaking into a smile as he fits stylishly into a tuxedo and Lady Alys’ perfect silhouette in her wedding gown, she watches on from her minds eye at their first kiss, at the celebrations for their wedding, at their children - she sees it all. But what she doesn’t see, is herself. She doesn’t see herself in any of these visions and she’s aware that she never belonged beside him, her class and her lowly, under average looks caused her to dream, to let herself live in a stupid dream made by a delusional imagination. How could a man so handsome and rich ever fall in love with her? How could it ever be allowed? And she fought with herself for how she let her heart go so easily, he stands there with her red, bloodied heart beating in his hands and the worst of it all, she wouldn’t complain about the pain because at least he kept her heart… even if she never had his.
A sound vibrates through her silent room, she looks up in her cloudy vision and notices the rain finally pelting at the window. She can’t smile, everything hurts to move but she wills it, opening her window wide enough for her to step out of. The rain meets her hands, it meets her hair, her head and her face, and she lets herself melt into acidic rain and her feet carry her over the gardens where she once found utmost happiness, where she felt wanted and secure in the arms of a man who promised things he couldn’t keep. The rain will mask her tears. The rain will mask her pain. No matter what, she will stay here. She will always be where he left her and that is too much to bear. Every corner; every room, every dust particle will remind her of him, she cries at the thought of him leaving here with his bride as they make love in the moonlight where she and he did behind the stairs, she watches as Lady Alys’ stomach blooms in Spring and how a smaller version of Aemond arrives in Summer. She will be there for none of that.
She looks up to the sky, the rain still falling but now only softer as if allowing her to fulfil her task before getting heavier. She breathes deeply through her nose and she crouches onto the ground, the knife firmly in her hand from when she stole it from the dining table and how it fits so perfectly in her stomach, how the blood flows so perfectly and matches the rain as it grows heavier and heavier. How her last thoughts are of him, and them and the way he held her and the way he spoke her name. The way his soft fingers delicately worked on her injury and how he looked in the night. She lays down, hopelessly devoting herself to the sky because she is no longer needed on the earth. She lies until her eyes shut gently and the pebbles under her back no longer hurt her. And she lies there in peace. Until morning comes around.
