#tytyty

Your loud whimper forced the room into silence, the hand that held yours delicately had now become a death grip that had the bones of your fingers crushing into one another. Tears burned behind your eyes as you scour the room for help—but no one dared move as the man at your side demanded you repeat yourself. His angered voice slapped against the side of your face and forced the words to out of your mouth, repeating your question in strained obedience.

The air was sucked out of the room when the man let out a scoff that morphed into a low chuckle, his head coming to shake in bewilderment at your words. He glanced over his shoulder at a knight, jutting his chin once before the armored man stepped forward and seized the elder maester by the arm, hauling him out of the room and into the hall. The man returned his wild gaze to you, his stare burning into you for a long moment before he stood and left the room without another word. 

The second his boot steps past the frame, everyone within the chambers resumed their work without a seconds waste. People entered, obstructing your view as they delivered supplies while others remained hard at work. You did your best to listen in for any clue as to who the man was and why his mere presence made your heart tremble. 

You could feel your face twist with anxiety as you watched the pacing body just beyond the door, violent eyes finding you with each pass in the hall. The maesters scattered whispers reached your ears as he attempted to soothe the agitated man, reaching out a hand as he said 'these things can happen' despite the scowl thrown his way.

"The memories can come back," Maester Robynn explained, his hunched frame following the pacing body. "You must approach these things with delicacy Prince Aerion"

At the sound of the man's name, your heart began to ache as you clutched the source of your agony. 

Aerion stopped mid-step, pulling his gaze from the maester to scowl into the room. For a second, you thought he could feel your pain with how fast his eyes found your hands that cradled your wounded frame. His gaze reluctantly returns to the elder, who somehow remained composed when the prince reached out and snatched the linen cloth—which had once wrapped around your head—from his hands. Aerion walked close to grunt something low to the maester before he stalked back into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, eyes fixed on your face as the acolytes attended to their practice.

The maester rejoined the care team surrounding you, his face pale but fixed on you as he begin his evaluations. It was through incessant questioning and careful treading that Maester Robynn was able to determine the gap in your memories extended to months in the past—a past where your most recent memory was of you saying goodbyes to your family as they departed to Kings Landing, to present your sister for marriage to a disgraced Targaryen prince that you had yet to meet.

Your words send Prince Aerion into a silent rage, his body trembling just beneath the doublet that was dyed to his house colors. Here you sat—finally awake after five endless days and their corresponding nights—looking as alive as he hoped you would be and you don't remember him. He could almost laugh at the funny twist of fate if it wasn't for the embedded image of your cold expressionless stare at the bottom of the steps. 

The image your body matching the bird he sent in jest, forever engrained into the back of his eyelids, his unwanted companion in his confinement. He recalled the tumultuous wail of your ladies maid seeing him standing over your unmoving body, misunderstandings spread until whispers accused the prince of pushing his unwanted wife down the steps. Having no other option until the truth revealed, Prince Maekar decreed the prince's confinement until news of your health arrived. 

The first night was spent in outrage, demanding his status be honored and let him see his wife. The second night was spent in destruction, furniture cracked and mirrors broken to a million shards throughout the room.  The third night was silent, the knights mentioned their multiple trips into the quiet room to ensure the prince was alive. The fourth night was restless guilt, the slow madness making him take to the wine in his chambers. The fifth night was spent in ruin, his chambers lost in chaos until the whisper of your regained consciousness.

Aerion had somehow rushed past his fathers' guards, quick to go against his confinement at the mere whisper of your name just outside his chamber doors. He could hear the knights murmur their small talk when one approached with news of you finally moving to wake. He didn't hesitate to pull the door aside and knock past the men, stumbling then running at combat speed through the keep to reach the maesters' chambers. He saw your hands move and he felt himself settle within his ribs. 

But now, you don't remember him?

Everyone within the stone walls stayed at the ready to either flee or rush to help as they watched the young prince curl his lip, the madness of Prince Aerion already well-known. He remained at the foot of the bed, knuckle-white grip on the frame. Maester Robynn smiled despite his paling face, eyes flicking from you to the looming figure that fumed, slamming his hands on the wooden bed frame. 

The maester and acolytes alike all stopped their movements once more as they watched the prince approach his wife who denied him in mind. He could hear Maester Robynn warn him of your mind needing time to settle rather than being hammered back into what he knew. Aerion half-listened to the maester explain how 'patience was necessary' before Aerion slowly gestured for the man to move, silencing the man and moving him without a word. You flinch a little at his approaching frame and that seems to anger him more as his eyes narrow a little before he spoke. 

"I am Prince Aerion of House Targaryen, the blood of the dragon and you," he declared, moving forward until he was looking down at you, keeping your eyes on him. "You are my wife."

At his words, or maybe the intense stare, it caused the pain to return as the sheer force made sweat drench your neck and your hands to shake. Your eyes flood instantly, tears brimming your eyes as you can only stare at Aerion's furrowed eyebrows and sneer. You hear yourself stutter out questions, your hands flying to your hair and pulling as if the pain were an anchor to this reality. You slowly shift to a cry, your brain not registering your stuttering anxiety. Aerion's fingers move to press into your chin at the panicked look in your eyes, catching the similarity between this reaction and the one you had the night of your attempt—the two seeming too similar. Your stammers become breathy and your chest starts to huff as you hyperventilate, your face coloring paler than you'd ever been. Aerion opens his mouth to demand help when the sound of boots marching in sync come to stop just at the threshold.

There, standing with a scowl known as a physical calling card for the royal family, stood Prince Maekar Targaryen. No introduction was needed as he made his way into the room, everyone bowing as he made his way past. His severe presence seemed to rock a small sense of ease into you, the cold and prickly Valyrian dressed in black had arrived with two guards that entered the room on the heel of his boots. The white cloaked knights moved in complete extension of one another, their plated armor gleaming as Maekar took a look around the room before his violet eyes settled on his son—who had escaped his chambers and fled. 

"Aerion!" Maekar's voice bounced off the walls and into your chest as you watched the older man stalk forward and yanked his son away from your side and out of the room. Aerion was compliant as his father dragged him away, the fight from before gone as his eyes remained on you. As he passed the threshold, Prince Maekar threw a stern look to the elder maester and his attendants as he commanded the gaping faces to 'do their fucking job'. 

You spend the rest of the evening in the endless pain and confusion, finally soothed with milk of the poppy after Maester Robynn gathered all the information he could. After taking the small cup of sedative, you were changed by maids and left to slumber, your body succumbed to the painkiller and you were asleep once more.

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You must've been sleeping no more than a few hours when the sound of your chamber door opening woke you. Despite your desperate will to turn to face the unexpected visitor, your body remained laid out and limp from the strong sedative as you have no choice but to listen as they approached. The intruder comes in with the soft sound of footsteps until they stop just behind your turned away body, casting a faint shadow over you.

A cold ripple bursts from the center of your chest as the sheets are pulled away from your body and the mattress dips behind you, the added weight making your body follow the pressure until it meets a hard chest. No matter how hard your tried, your head remained faced away while the harsh smell of smoke left a tickle the back of your throat. Traces of warmth stroke the blood beneath your skin as the hand came out from behind and moved your hair to the rear of your ear. A deep hum comes against your ear in a whisper, the lips of the intruder brushing the skin. The visitor stuffs his nose into the locks of your hair, lingering and taking a big breath while his hand comes to cradle your neck. 

The tender hold made you falter until another deep inhale comes from the nose buried in your hair. A firm kiss is pushed into your head, just missing the pulsing stitches while you remain still, your will still not seeping into the muscles when a low groan rumbles against you before you finally hear the man speak.

"You've slipped away again," the spiteful voice hissed into your skin. "You think you could just forget? You'll remember me. I'll make sure of it—"

Rough hand cup your face to squeeze your cheeks, turning your heavy head to look at the intruder with eyes that dragged open with the rough contact. The sight of Aerion's violet eyes leaves you winded as he dips his head and knocked a deep kiss into you. The feeling of his soft plump lips brushing yours in passion left a bubbling feeling to build between your legs unwillingly. His tongue brushed the curve of your mouth, a gasp forced out at the intensity of his kiss when both hands come to angle your head to his will and begin exploring your mouth deeply. His long tongue flicks against your own fumbling one, his skilled workings leaving you soft and pliant. He reluctantly pulls away, a string of spit connecting you as his eyes come to focus on your flushed face and swollen lips. 

Soft breaths fill the room before his warm hands come down to adjust you, effortlessly laying you on your side to face him as he delicately brought himself against you once more. Your tangled shift separated your heaving chest from his, the rumpled cloth riding up inch by inch until your thighs are on display. Despite the cold air, you felt warm with the intense look Aerion gave you before delving into a different display of affection and leaving you winded.

"—you love me," he groaned, grinding against your lower body, his breath flush against your ear as he continuously rubbed his hard bulge against your lower half just over your nightdress. His friction making the fabric hot while you try to ignore the overwhelming dampness that soaked through. "You have alwaysloved me and you always will."

Your eyes hold the surface of his face, the short interaction from before hadn't give you a chance to really get a look at the man. His silver hair glistened in the dying fire, the shimmer of starlight somehow captured within his being. He looked ethereal, the frown on his face making him look all the more sorrowful as he leaned in close, making sure your eyes were looking directly into his as he ground his body a little slower. "In the eyes of the seven, you and I are wed. No matter what anyone says or tries to push— I am yours and you," he brings his head to rest against yours, "you are mine."

You were dreaming. You have had to be, having a prince over you and telling you that you were his just as much as he was yours. There was something in the way he was staring down at you, his eyes lined with intensity that made you internally pull back. It was as if he could sense the pull away, taking it as a snipe and drawing you closer, licking his teeth as he glowered at you. You attempt to voice your reluctance at his attentions, unintentionally letting out a moan when mentioning his true intended. His expression shifts to anger as his body halts, stopping the crescendo of sensation you were so close to welcoming. He pulled himself away from you to look down at your face, the one that was flush with unwelcome ecstasy, cursing as he stands. 

Without another word, Aerion stormed out of the room and left you wondering if the prince had really come to visit or if the Red Keep had ghosts that somehow groped your body and made your body weep with confusion and questionable need. You woke the next morning with the covers up to your chin and not a thing out of place leaving you to say prayer a little louder at the sight of dark corners.

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Things changed quickly after the Hand of the King was updated of your condition. Prince Baelor manifested into your recovery room with Maester Robynn by his side the following afternoon. The two men wishing you a speedy recovery while informing their intentions to change a few things, the adjustments being for your betterment was what they would continually say. Neither one would answer your questions regarding your family or what happened to you. You were only given a fixed smile and a roundabout answer before the Hand informed you that your brother would be arriving to Kings Landing in less than a fortnight. 

You hadn't seen their expression when you voiced your excitement to be reunited with your family or the look they shared when you mentioned returning home to recover. With a promise to continue visiting, Baelor Targaryen left the room with further instruction of your care, leaving a knight to ensure your protection and monitor your progress within the Red Keep.

Your new chambers were set on a lower level and you were given dresses in your house colors, the soft silks and hues of blue filling your chest with ease. The days began to blend together in routine and visits from maesters are maintained even with your protests, the only upside is when you were finally cleared to walk around so long as your new guard allows it. It takes a good while before the kind-hearted, honorable man stopped steering you away from the stone steps leading up the the Red Keep library.

Today was like any other day, you dressed in your favorite hue of blue as the sun rose over the horizon and settled a shawl over your shoulders before you exit the room to look up at Ser Donnel in his white armor. His smiling eyes greeting you as he bowed before gesturing his arm for you to take. You both knew you were good to walk but the action slowly became a part of their greeting and soon, a welcome invitation. You smile and take his arm as you both made your way through the tall standing halls, picking the latest rumor you've heard as the topic of conversation.

"I think it was quite valiant of Lord to confess so passionately," you defend, the whispers of how a young lord of the realm had come forward and declared himself upon meeting a lady through acquaintances. "He wasted no time in declaring himself before her father and all those who were around, making a complete fool of himself in the name of love. He didn't hesitate. He went after what he wanted, who he loves". You suppress a dreamy sigh as you pictured the life you longed to have, a dream of a romance so profoundly moving it made a small ache form in your chest. 

A small voice in the back of your mind whispering that it would not come to pass. 

"Or," Ser Donnel scoffed, shaking his head before he leaned down to whisper, "maybe he wanted to secure the lady's inheritance". You nudged the man, an elbow to the armored ribs, and scrunched your face at his harsh look at the world. "That is so sad, I'd like to believe he was moved by the spirits of love—you have such a negative outlook on the topic"

You shake your head and go to loosen your grip on his arm, when you catch sight of a man in the hall who quickly looked down and rushed away when he caught sight of you, the whisper from before coming a little louder in your ear making you stumble. The knight at your side is quick to catch you and hold you upright, his arm securing your body at your waist as the other hand comes to grasp yours to gain your balance. You apologize as he settles you against the wall and looks around for a maid until your hand comes to pat his arm in signal to stop. 

You couldn't risk being placed back under supervision, the long hours of being trapped in those stone walls while your left to listen to the courtyard chatter, not allowed to move from the room. It was hellish. You were quick to reassure the slightly shaken knight, his weary gaze now fixed on your face as you both move forward toward the shelved room of books. Your silence must've shaken him as he begins to fill the silence. "I shouldn't say but," he began, looking over your face before adjusting his grip on your arm. "Word has come that your brother will be here in three days time"

Your smile is immediate as you look over to the knight, a grateful expression on your face at the sliver of information given to you. No matter how much you tried, the maester and Baelor Targaryen ensured nothing was told to you unless approved. You remain in thought until Ser Donnel seemed to crack under the quiet and confessed something else. 

You learn that Maekar Targaryen had sequestered Prince Aerion as penance for his defiance, leaving his chambers despite direct orders from his father— now with double the guards and the length of the punishment. You try not to show the visceral reaction your body had at the mention of the prince's name, the dream-ish memory of him humping his body against your own spread through your mind. You swallow down a dry gasp and thank the knight as you both arrive to the library door. You leave the man and begin heading to your favorite alcove. A seat pillow rested in the spot you last left it, none of the maesters seemed to mind the small addition and simply avoiding the area you had claimed. 

You settle there until the sun begins to set and dinner is called. The thought of having to interact with anyone puts a frown on your face so you decide to take dinner in your chambers. Ser Donnel silently watched over you, letting in the maids with your tray of food with a concerned stare before he escorted them out and closed the door, only popping back in once more to ask if you needed anything else before he departed for the night.

"I assure you, I am alright— go and enjoy your late evening Ser Donnel" you chastise, settling into the cushioned seat near the fireplace that crackled with flame. He nodded once and secured the door, wishing you a goodnight in a delicate whisper. You smile until the door clicks to a close and you are left alone.

When the sound of your knights feet exchanging with his alternate settle outside the door, you rise from your spot and slowly walk to the trunk that rest at the foot of the bed. You wait until the sound of Ser Donnel's unmistakable footsteps depart down the hall to finally let out a small breath and open the trunk to your dressings. Your fingers run over the embroidered cloth of your house sigil, a tickle of discomfort settling over your head at the sight of a small bird a seamstress had sown into the silk. You stare for a while before you choose to place the fabric aside and grab a novel you'd borrowed days before. 

You stand upright when a knock at your door makes you let out a low chuckle, walking over as you let out a wistful sigh at the futile attempt at silence. Your mischief subsided the second you catch sight of Maekar Targaryen, your gaze lowering to the ground in a bow as he stalked into the room and commanded you shut the door. You obey and watch the man walk over to the mantelpiece, narrowly avoiding your small cushion before he turns to look you over before he speaks.

"Your brother arrives on the morrow, you are to gather your things and have them at the ready to depart with him at a moments notice" 

You are sure to hide your confusion at the information, the one your knight had revealed in a soothing attempt had been wrong. You blink at the scowling man before you ask what he meant. His frown deepened, which had seemed impossible until it wasn't, and he explained you were to depart with the arriving carriage and return home before the following nights end. He takes your surprised face as confirmation that he was heard as he turns and begins to depart until you hear yourself whisper something you'd never think to ask.

"What about Aerion?"

The elder man stopped in his tracks, not bothering to face you as he gathered his bearings by adjusting his shirt. "That is no longer any of your concern. Fly out with your flock and leave while you still can"

Without another word to you, Prince Maekar left the room. You hear the man give orders to guard the door before his footsteps retreat and you are left to catch up with the events of the night. You stood frozen in the spot the prince left you in for a long while before you finally move. 

With the way the news was delivered to you, you could tell this wasn't going to be a public good-bye. Your hands fly to your most precious items, stuffing them into a small satchel as you decide to take the book you borrowed, damned the consequences. You decide to put on your favorite gown that was gifted to you, knowing somehow you would need to leave with the items on your back. You were mid-disrobe, holding the cherished fabric when the door to your chambers are opened so quickly you hadn't even spun around fully when the door came to close.

Aerion stood, a few feet away with a furrowed brow, eyes glancing between your state of dress and the satchel on your bed. He tilts his head in thought before you speaks, "Are you going somewhere?"

Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.

The voices in your head screamed as you quickly clutched your dress against your body to cover yourself, only able to shake your head as your shriek out his title. He repeats his question, this time firm in waiting for a verbal response. His eyes had narrowed into slits while his hand had come to instinctively rest on the pommel of his sword. "I asked you a question and don't intend to repeat myself a third time—" he huffed, annoyed beyond measure. You brave yourself and finally respond, keeping your eyes on his hands. "No, your grace, I've just returned from the library." 

The lie slips out of you seamlessly, shocking you into a smile as you strategically make your way to your privacy screen. The screen fabric provides shelter from his vehement stare as you gather your courage and settle your clothes over your body. You give yourself a moment before stepping back out to see Aerion sat upon the bed, dangling your undergarments that were just placed into the satchel moments ago. He raised his brow at you, leaning back with a unbelieving expression. He bunched the fabric together in his palm and crossed his arms.

"It doesn't matter—gather your things, we depart now," He stands, coming before you with a small smile. He brings his finger under your chin and presses his lips onto yours before he pats your hand, hurrying you along by guiding your shoulders to turn toward your chest of dresses. 

"Who departs now?" you ask, your face scrunching in confusion thinking you misheard. Your gaze follows your unconscious movements as your mind raced with the sudden turn of events. Your hands loosely grasp at the fabric as Aerion walks over to sit on the mattress. He gives his head a shake, like he's speaking with a child who said something truly silly. He smiles before he looks over and gestures you to keep moving. 

"We leave. To Summerhall, as soon as you are done gathering your things," he spoke, sending you a smile that translated to a wicked grin in your eyes.

"There no one will keep me from my bride"