Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 1 ❝Scars and bruises❞
☽➛ Summary: Nothing satietes Maehrys Velaryon's hunger as well as revenge. Growing up at the Red Keep as the bastard of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not come trouble-free. Her childhood consisted of bitter words and repulsive looks from nearly everybody in the castle. As she grew older, Maehrys grew meaner. Once the Velaryons return to King's Landing to defend Luke's claim as Lord of Driftmark, Maehrys decides that it is time for the people who hurt her in the past to pay.
☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!
☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)
☽➛ Word count: 3.1k
!!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!
Prologue
Maehrys Velaryon, age 16
The waves of Dragonstone were particularly loud that day. The princess Maehrys was sorrowful that she had to leave, but she did not have a choice. Her mother forced her and her siblings to get on the ship and sail to King’s Landing. Ser Vaemond wanted to question Luke’s legitimacy and plead for the title of Lord of Driftmark. If she were to leave on any other circumstances, Maehrys would have been a little bit content with going back to the place where she spent her childhood.
Despite King Landing being a nightmare-fuelled place, Maehrys found herself chasing the feeling of nostalgia. She missed the capital and its sights, but she did not miss the people.
“Your name day is approaching.” Jace’s voice startled Maehrys. She turned away from the ship’s window and smiled at her older brother.
“It is.” Her voice was raspier than usual, and she decided to take a sip of water. “Are you going to get me a gift?” She put down the glass as Jace sat down beside her.
“Perhaps I should get you a new dress made. Are you going to change before we arrive?” Jace pointed at the short sleeves of her dress, specifically at the scar on her lower left arm.
Maehrys looked down and grazed her fingertips along the eight-year-old scar. When she was younger and still lived in King’s Landing, Rhaenyra forbade her to ever wear a short-sleeved piece of clothing. Her mother commanded her to never tell anyone about her attempt on taking her life and threatened to cut anyone’s tongue who would ever speak a word about it. Maehrys did not care any longer, as she buried her old self once she left the Red Keep. The new Maehrys decided to not let a scar define who she is.
“Perhaps I’ve grown fond of it.” She told Jace. The prince’s eyes furrowed in a mix of uncertainty and compassion. Maehrys sighed; she was tired of the pity that she often received from her mother and brothers. She wanted to be more than just a pity-worthy, weak princess and she planned on proving everyone the opposite, particularly her mother.
“Would you mind accompanying me on my walk?” Jace enjoined, drifting away from the main topic of their conversation.
“Lead the way, brother.” Maehrys responded, delighted that her older brother decided to not continue the conversation about her scar.
The ship’s deck was filled with servants and sailors, all of whom bowed down to the pair of heirs and saluted them, respectfully. Maehrys will miss the genuine politeness when they will arrive at King’s Landing. The folk of Dragonstone were truthfully respectful of Maehrys and her brothers’ titles, and would not dare do otherwise, whereas the people of the Red Keep would not fail an opportunity to throw an insult or give them a venomous look.
Vermax’s screeches stifled the sound of the waves crashing against the ship as Maehrys looked up, eyeing the leafy-scaled dragon. The three eggs that were presented to the princess while she was in the cradle did not hatch, so she remained dragonless.
Do not trouble yourself with these eggs, I am sure they will hatch someday was Luke’s signature comment when it came to comforting his older sister. Maehrys appreciated Luke’s optimism, but the girl lost hope long time ago, despite still carrying the chest containing the three dragon eggs everywhere she went. She began to feel attached to them, and even though she made peace with the certitude that they will never hatch, and she still treasured them. Luke, Jace and Joffrey got lucky.
“Perhaps you will claim a dragon at an older age.” Jace spoke, still gazing at his dragon. “It is not rare and if that little shit Aemond accomplished it, so can you.”
Maehry’s body shivered at the sound of her uncle’s name. She despised that after all those years, his presence still impacts her. Out of all the silver-haired children, she hated Aemond the most. During her pre-teens, Aemond was the one to target her the most; he would call her names, hurt her, and make her cry herself to sleep. He was the cruellest of them all. The princess was tired of fearing him, it ought to be the other way around.
“I am sure one of our dear uncles will die soon, and I will hurry to claim his dragon.” Maehrys spoke, shifting her gaze towards Daemon, who was keeping the captain company. “Or maybe Seasmoke will come back, he has been rider-less for quite a while now.” She added as Jace stopped and leaned on the ship’s wooden edge.
“Do you ever notice the absence of our father?” Jace asked, and Maehrys frowned at the vagueness of her older brother’s question.
Every time the word father would invade Maehry’s ears, she would have to put on her defences. Because of the people she was surrounded by growing up, she learned to always be cautious when someone would mention her paternal figure. She also learned to doubt whomever they were referring to.
“Not more than I did when he was alive.” The princess responded. “Though Daemon is doing a significant job when it comes to filling Laenor’s shoes.” She added, hinting at Rhaenyra’s pregnancy. Jace scoffed.
“You dislike him.” Jace’s intention was to ask her a question, but it sounded more of a statement.
“He refused to train with me.” Maehrys joined Jace, leaning on the edge of the ship. The ocean seemed restless today, as did her. Daemon would train with the boys, but never with her.
“That’s because you’re a-“
“Woman?” Maehrys cut off Jace in the middle of his speech and gave him an imposing look. They both knew that the only reason Daemon would not want to train the princess was because her mother could not command him. No knight in the Seven Kingdoms would willingly train with a girl.
In spite of Daemon’s refusal to train with Maehrys, she still trained with plenty of knights at Dragonstone, none of them compared with ser Criston Cole, her first mentor. She began to feel like the training sessions became dull three years ago, and she asked Daemon to train her. He laughed in her face.
“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, her royal consort, Daemon Targaryen and their children.”
A shiver ran down Maehrys’ spine as she stepped out of the carriage. The cold autumn air was as unwelcoming as the lack of presence from the Queen, King, or the other silver-haired children. Lord Caswell’s figure came out of the massive doors.
“Welcome back, Princess.” The man greeted Rhaenyra.
As they were walking towards the castle doors, a swarm of servants approached the young heirs. A couple of ladies-in-waiting insisted on leading Maehrys to her old chamber, forcing her to split from her brothers. The princess wished she did not feel like an enemy within the castle, but as a guest. Walking through the Red Keep’s hallways felt strange to Maehrys. Every chamber and every corridor seemed so much smaller than she remembered. The princess’ mind was not the only thing that matured, but her height as well. She has grown almost as tall as Jace, and she is finally able to see the actual size of the castle. Maehrys wondered if her world also became much smaller than she remembered.
“This way, my princess.” A faceless servant stopped Maehrys from walking. “That is the way to the library.”
Perhaps her muscle memory was taking her to the library, one of the few places where Maehrys was allowed to have some peace during her youth. The smell of lavender and candle wax invades her nostrils as she entered her old chambers. Nothing has been changed from the last time she saw it, besides the bedsheets and a few tablecloths. “Very well, you may leave now.” She spoke to the group of servants.
“But-“
“It’s a command, not a request.” Maehrys put on a forged smile as she placed her hand on the doorknob. The ladies gave her bitter glances as they turned around to leave. “Not you, Alisha.” She added as she noticed her lady-in-waiting attempting to leave with the group.
The princess closed the doors as soon as Alisha entered the room. Alisha has been her primary lady-in-waiting ever since she got to Dragonstone, and Maehrys found comfort in her. She would sometimes tell Alisha what bothered the young princess and would even ask her for guidance, which is not an ordinary thing, but Alisha was wiser, and a bit older than her. Maehrys did not care for formalities with her and would even go as far as considering Alisha her friend… which she did not have many of, besides her brothers.
“How could I be of use, your Grace?” Alisha asked as Maehrys prompted herself onto the comfortable armchair. It was the same armchair she used to climb onto and watch Ser Harwin Strong train with Jace when they were younger.
“I wish to train with my brothers, fetch me the training clothes.” Maehrys commanded.
“Yes, your Grace.” Alisha opened the chest that arrived with them from Dragonstone and laid the clothes on the big bed. “Do you think it is wise, your Grace?” She asked as the princess stood up, looking at the bland tunics. Some of them were blood-stained, and some of them were even ripped. Rhaenyra would always give her second born a lesson about how she should avoid getting cut or hit during training sessions, but Maehrys refused to let that happen. She considered that if she didn’t bleed or bruised, she would not learn.
“Why would it not be?” Maehrys scowled and turned her back to her lady-in-waiting, signalling her to help the girl take off her necklace.
“Your uncles might have the same idea as you.” Alisha spoke as she placed the pearly necklace on the desk.
The thought of Maehrys training against her uncles, Aemond especially, used to terrify her. They both trained with the sword ever since they were able to think, and Maehrys was attuned to sleep with a dagger under her pillow just in case her uncle might sneak in her chamber in the middle of the night to try and kill her.
Maehrys is no longer afraid. She yearned for the day she would defeat Aemond in combat and prove to everyone at the Red Keep that she is no longer a weakling.
“I am looking forward to my encounter with my uncles on the training field.” The princess finally answered as she put on the last article of clothing.
The training grounds were cooler than the ones in Dragonstone, and the winds seemed to be restless, same as the waves she arrived upon. Maehrys checked her surroundings, hoping she would spot her two brothers. She did not, instead, she was met with disgruntled stares from the folk of the Red Keep. Suddenly, she was ten years old again and people would whisper bitter things behind her back, looking at her as if she was a traitor and offering her false smiles. Suddenly, the world felt bigger and Maehrys felt small again.
Jace’s snicker made the young princess focus her attention on her two brothers and she sighed in relief, feeling her anxiety-filled body relax.
“Brothers.” Maehrys greeted the pair.
“I defeated Luke, again.” Jace said, triumphantly.
Maehrys’ smile faded as she shifted her gaze towards her younger brother, who had an uneasy look on his face. “What’s your problem?” The older brother asked.
“Everyone is staring at us.” Luke replied quickly.
Maehrys’ could swear she felt her heart break because of the words her little brother spoke. One of her biggest fears was that Luke would experience a similar youth to hers and Jace’s. People marginalizing him, discriminating him, and calling him a bastard. Luke did not deserve this. None of them did. The princess decided to not let this visit upset Luke or sweet Joffrey.
Jace grabbed a wooden sword, trying to distract Luke from drowning in sorrowful thoughts. “No one would question me being the heir of Driftmark… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke spoke, looking around anxiously, making sure no one heard him.
“Don’t say that around them.” Maehrys took a step closer to Luke. “If you do, you accept defeat.” She added on a worried but also commanding tone.
“It does not matter what they think.” Jace added.
The crowd was growing noisier and noisier as a circle was forming around two people. The three siblings made their way towards the mass of people and watched in silence. Maehrys quickly recognized the pair that were duelling: Ser Criston Cole and Aemond Targaryen, her half-uncle. Aemond’s silver hair has grown longer, and he wore an eyepatch covering his left eye. The prince moved swiftly, dodging Ser Criston’s attacks. It looked as if he was dancing. Maehrys gripped the wooden sword harder and harder as she watched the man she desperately wanted to defeat in combat, winning against her childhood mentor. Aemond’s sword rapidly found its way a few centimetres away from Criston’s neck. She could not help but wonder if she had any chance of winning.
The crowd applauded as Ser Criston accepted defeat. “Well done, my Prince.” He spoke and Maehrys noticed that his voiced has changed over the years. It became deeper, sharper, and more menacing. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”
“I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond said, his tone being as icy as his hair. He lowered the wooden sword and shifted his attention towards the trio. “Nephews, niece…” The sight of him made her stomach turn. “Have you come to train?” Aemond was making eye contact with Maehrys, and she could feel her heart galloping with anger. His face was unreadable, but his voice was threatening.
The princess waited so long for this moment, where she could prove to everyone that she’s changed, and she’s capable of fighting. Maybe she was wrong about not fearing her uncle, because the moment she saw him, her body was rejecting any kind of confidence it once held. She greatly wanted to fight him, but she was no longer certain that she will take the victory.
“Open the gates!” A foreign voice startled the folk. Everyone turned their back from Ser Criston and Aemond, who was placing the wooden sword back where it belonged.
Everyone but Maehrys.
The princess watched her uncle’s every move with curiosity but also despair. He has grown a lot, his figure was not as slim as it used to be, and his height was taller than even Ser Criston’s. She desperately tried to find any weakness within him, but she failed miserably. Maehrys drew the conclusion that her uncle countered her from every perspective.
Maehrys finally turned around towards the gate and watched the bannermen march towards them, together with a man who resembled Lord Corlys. Lord Vaemond Velaryon came to defend his right to claim Driftmark., and with that, question Luke’s legitimacy. Overwhelmed by the situation, the princess decided to leave.
As she paced back to her chambers, Maehrys found herself haunted by shame. It was the first time she ever backed out from a fight. She was afraid to admit that she would have to fight dirty in order to beat Aemond, but she had no other option. The princess opened the doors to her chambers and found a satisfied-looking Alisha.
“I do not wish to hear it!” Maehrys exclaimed as she stormed through the chamber.
“Hear what, your Grace?” Alisha asked, with a grin on her face.
“You know what. Now help me out with these.” The princess commanded.
Maehrys felt like she was not worthy of wearing her training clothes anymore and was glad once she was back in her red gown. She left her chambers and headed to her only battlefield for today: the library. The princess would lie if she said she did not miss the massive library within the Red Keep. Dragonstone had its own library, sure, but it did not compare to the Red Keep’s.
Walking through the giant isles of books, she felt delighted. The books were more welcoming than the people. As she encountered the history section, she picked up a book titled The doom of Valyria. The contents of the book described how the magic-powered empire turned to ash when the volcano erupted, its lava killing even the biggest of the dragons.
“Bastard.” Her lecture was interrupted by Aemond’s voice.
Maehrys quickly closed the book and furrowed her brows. She had almost forgotten that Aemond liked to frequent the library as much as the training grounds. He has changed from his previous training clothes into a greener uniform. It appeared as though Alicent’s preferred colour of clothes imprinted on her children. His long hair was tied back, with only one silvery strand of hair hanging over his eyepatch. Aemond had his arms behind his back, and Maehrys wondered if he was holding a dagger, or perhaps even a sword.
“Aemond.” She simply greeted him, not taking her eyes off his arms, afraid that he would try to harm her. It appears that harming the princess remained his preferred activity.
“I see you’ve chosen not to hide your scar anymore.” Aemond pointed towards her left arm.
The princess could not help but ponder on why he has initiated the conversation. Has he come to torment her again? Was his body the only thing that matured? Is his mind still young and stupid, still searching for fights with people that would not win against him? Maehrys glared at him again, anger fuelling her train of thought. She also wondered if the Gods were testing her, because she wanted to wrap her hands around his neck, and not leaving the library until he was breathless. Maybe it was good exercise to be around him to not fear him anymore.
Maehrys needed discipline as much as she needed revenge.
“I see you’ve chosen to hide yours.” Maehrys let displeasure take control of her and spoke without giving too much thought. She immediately put her defences up when she noticed the young prince begin to slowly walk towards her.
“Do you wish for me to take it off?” He asked nonchalantly, with every step getting closer and closer. “Do you wish to see the aftermath of your brother’s doing?” Her heart started beating faster and faster as Aemond got closer to her. The anger quickly turned into fear when he grabbed her left arm. His clutch was strong, and she winced when he dug his nails into her skin. Aemond forced her to turn her wrist up, disclosing her scar. “I wish you would’ve pierced deeper, dear niece.” His words hurt as much as his grip.
Maehrys was right, the library turned into her battlefield that day.
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