✧𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒 ℙ𝕒𝕔𝕜✧

“This is an opportunity, Jace,” you tried to convince him as you had done many times since the announcement of your betrothal, not meaning to be reassuring rather than placating. “One of a kind.”

“Surely there was some other way,” he lamented, quieter than he usually protested about anything, and you removed your hand.

While you had wept when first announced that the king would see you married with your uncle Aemond, fearing for your future and your happiness, you had long prayed about it and had written to him from Dragonstone. If such was meant to be your fate, then you would surrender to it, if it brought an end to the tensions between the two factions of your grandsire’s family.

Walking down the aisle to the altar weeping would not serve you, and you far preferred using your energy for making the best of a situation you had not chosen.

“Are you so pained, seeing me at his arm?” you asked Jacaerys as the litter rocked and swayed when it took a curve, slowly ascending the slight hill where the Sept was built.

“I should not say,” your twin brother answered, heartbroken and petulant.

“Jacaerys…” you tried again, reaching for him once more.

“You are my sister, my twin… Half of my soul,” he finally relented with a great sigh, returning your gesture of affection and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You will always be half of me, nothing can change that,” you said with a small smile, and at that he brought your joined hands to his face to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. You wondered whether such a tender and chivalrous gesture would be part of your marriage, or if your uncle was incapable of bestowing them.

“I have a request,” Jacaerys whispered, eyes downcast. “May I kiss you one last time?”

It took every ounce of your resolve for you not to weep when his lips fell to yours, firm and chaste, a simple press of the mouth that carried all the sorrow and grief that inhabited both you and your twin brother. You held onto your certainties and prayed that the Gods would eventually release you of your sadness.

While you would always cherish the special bond you shared with Jacaerys, and would likely always love him more completely than you could ever love someone else, you were promised to another.

Gods willing, it would be a sacrifice for a greater prize—that of peace and reconciliation.

Such feelings filled your heart as you stepped from the litter a minute later, and you clutched them within your ribcage. Above the Sept, the sky loomed, dull and gray, like an omen.

Seeing you approach the altar at your brother’s arm, Aemond had felt the closest thing to exaltation as he had in a long time. He had delighted in the delicate trembling of your frame, the wavering of your voice as you had pledged yourself to him and now, ceremony completed, he felt utterly victorious.

You were beautiful, only a fool would deny it, but the greatest thrill he felt resided in the very obvious fact that you belonged to Jacaerys. It would be the closest thing to a revenge he would get on the bastards, but it would have to do.

He would get to purify your blood and give you white-haired children, he thought, and Jacaerys would have to live with the fact that you were bound to him, irrevocably, and in flesh. The young man’s eyes were fixed on him from the other end of the royal table at the banquet all throughout the feast

At his side, you had hardly touched any of your food and were sipping wine more regularly than seemed to be your habit, but it visibly did little to calm your obvious nerves. Aemond found he was eager for the evening to end and for the two of you to retreat to his chambers. A thrum was going under his skin knowing that if all went according to his plan, he would defile you under your brother's watchful eye.

As cheese and fruit was served, along with a darker wine, Aemond rose carefully, goblet in hand.

“A toast, to my dear nephews, and to my niece,” he started, then corrected himself with obvious delight. “Or should I say to my wife, now.”

At his other side, the King hummed, pleased, while further down the table, Jacaerys hid his annoyance with a cough. “May our union be fruitful and bring honor to our family,” he said with a bit of flair he heard his mother sigh at. 

Looking up at him with confusion and apprehension, you looked like a lamb to the slaughter, but held onto your composure admirably. You forced a small smile onto your face. “May the Gods hear you, husband,” you added.

“A witness to the consummation, I believe is custom on the bride’s part,” Aemond continued without waiting for the tension to abate, and he could almost hear his mother’s reproach, although she remained silent, glaring at him worryingly. 

Rhaenyra did not miss a beat and answered promptly. “I shall be present, then.”

Aemond hummed a biting laugh. “No, sister, I would not ask this of you. I think your son can deputize for this particular duty,” he said with a tone that left no doubt as to his determination. “They are twins, surely secrecy and modesty are not in their habits, are they?”

Before Rhaenyra could protest, Jacaerys spoke up, rising from his own seat. “It is alright, mother. I will stand as witness,” he assured, his tone perfectly calm while anger was clearly painted on his face.

Such an expression remained as Aemond led you away from the banquet and down the hallway to his rooms. You took his arm with a trembling hand but allowed yourself to be led, which he appreciated. So far you had seemed much timid and meek, but he knew it was a front you put up, and he wished to see what was underneath. Perhaps that side of you was reserved for your family.

Aemond was sure he could get you to fold and surrender, and he would put his every effort into it. Mayhaps the presence of your brother would help break you in, and the mere idea put a shiver to his spine. 

His rooms were sparsely furnished and less luxurious than that of his siblings, but it was a space he felt at ease in. Large bookshelves covered the main wall, and a mural painting of the burning of Harrenhal sat above the head of his bed—he saw it caught your eye as soon as you entered. 

“You may sit there, nephew,” Aemond instructed, gesturing to an armchair that had been placed at the side of the bed, where Jacaerys would get an unobstructed view of what was to occur. “Disrobe,” he told you just as promptly. 

“Entirely?” you asked, a bit incredulous. 

“Yes,” Aemond replied as though it was natural. “No need to be shy, I’m sure it’s nothing your brother has not seen.”

Standing in the middle of the room, you looked slightly out of place in your embroidered wedding gown and intricate hairdo. Aemond wanted to see it all undone, he wanted you bare and vulnerable, where he could reach under your skin.

He did not wait for you to voice your compliance, instead turned to his own clothes as Jacaerys sat where he had been instructed to—he was strangely silent, and Aemond wondered when the first acerbic comment or critic would come. 

He did not let his nephew’s presence shake him, instead took pride in undressing himself slowly, revealing the body he had worked on so tirelessly since the first flutterings of manhood. He had honed each and every muscle in the yard, and he knew his height was to his advantage. What he lacked in facial beauty, he made up for in other ways, or at least he tried to.

“I shall need help to unlace my gown,” you spoke up, and from the corner of his eye Aemond saw that you had undone your hair and let it fall around your shoulders. Your feet were bare on the stones, shoes and socks discarded.

“Your brother may help,” Aemond replied casually once more, and the creaking of the chair outside of his line of vision, followed by footsteps, signaled to him his nephew’s compliance.

The young man was strangely obedient, and it intrigued him as much as it unsettled him. Perhaps it was on your instructions, as you seemed intent on putting up a good front.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Jace as he came up behind you and pulled the laces of your dress with expert fingers. You could hear his ragged breaths that he tried to keep quiet, and threw him a gentle look over your shoulder. “I shall be fine, now.”

Your twin nodded, letting the fabric fall at your waist and stepping back, your double meaning not lost on him. You quickly dropped the heavy dress to the floor and stepped out of it, and when you looked back up, the sight of the scene in front of you cut your breath.

Aemond was walking towards a nearby table, bare as the day he was born, his pride obvious in the way he rolled his shoulders. At the side of the bed, Jacaerys was sitting in an armchair, resolutely staring at the wall.

You could not deny your uncle painted quite the picture—his long, white hair unraveled at his shoulders, a silky curtain that grazed the divot at the small of his back. He was lithe, silky skin stretched over what looked to be lean muscle, more visibly carved than Jacaerys. He was handsome, even with the scar, and his missing eye, but you doubted that he would be very tender. 

You quickly dropped the last layer of your clothes before you could think better of it, folding your shift and settling it over the back of a chair, knowing you might want to find it quickly once the deed was done. 

You averted your eyes as Aemond turned to face you, a cup full of wine in hand. “Come here, I would see you before we start,” he said, sounding almost pleasant.

Carefully stepping into the light of the torch, you crossed your wrists low on your belly. Heat rose to your cheeks when Aemond took an appreciative glance while sipping his wine. 

“No need to be shy, little dragon,” he crooned, and you would have thought him mocking if he did not sound so firm. “Show me.”

Aemond cleared his throat slightly as you uncrossed your wrists and bared the apex of your thighs to his gaze, instead crossing your arms at your chest. So preoccupied with your own nervousness, he was sure you did not see how his own hands trembled. 

You were not a girl paid to pretend you enjoyed his company, but a niece who would likely not hesitate to tell him his shortcomings, and such a prospect was both incensing and terrifying. It was a chance to prove himself, but it could just as well be his undoing. It was a shame you were not Lucerys’ twin, he swiftly thought—but surely it was better for you, or he might have been more cruel. 

“Drink,” he murmured, handing you the goblet he had been sipping from. “It won’t do if you are too tense,” he explained, throwing a glance over his shoulder when Jacaerys took a deeper breath at his words.

You followed his suggestion, uncrossing your arms to take the cup in hand, and he allowed himself the first touch of the night. Your hand shook and the cup wobbled when his thumb followed the underside of your breast, then pressed into its lovely curve until it bounced when he released it.

He relished in how you obviously reacted positively to his touch, your skin rising in shivers all across your chest and arms, your cheeks flushing.

Running his fingers along the soft line of your waist produced the same effect, in addition to a sharp intake of breath when he reached your hip, the pad of his thumb teasing the crease leading to the apex of your thighs. You shifted your weight under his quiet inspection, and he could see you wished to speak, to diffuse whatever tension he was imposing on you.

“Gevie,” he murmured before you could find your words, and the shudder that rocked your frame told him you had understood him perfectly. 

He was not one for praise but it seemed you were. Although it was certain there was no love between you, and perhaps never would be, he wondered if there could still be more than marital obligation. This tentative desire between the two of you certainly exhilarated him. 

Delighted and more excited than he had anticipated, he curled forward, dipping his head into your neck to smell your sweet perfume and pressing a kiss to your soft skin, teasing and trying to coax more reaction from you. “Lay down,” he whispered into your skin, taking the cup from you and setting it aside.

Jacaerys held his breath as you approached the bed, and he forced himself not to react. This moment was the first step into your marriage, and he had vowed to himself that he would help you take it. If you were committed to this, then he would support, but one word from you, or a sign that you wished to flee, and he would take you.

The both of you knew this, and it was this trust that seemed to settle your nerves as you laid across the sheets, your eyes fixed on him.

He tried to slow his breaths, so that you could follow him, but he could not loosen the tense line of his shoulders, no matter how much he willed himself to relax.

Aemond climbed after you, agile in the way a predator was, and settled easily between your parted knees. His long hair fell over his shoulders, hiding his face as he tucked himself into the cradle of your hips, and the sight alone was enough to bring Jacaerys to tears.

You took a long breath, your eyes never leaving your twin as you felt a hard line of heat press against your most intimate place. You curled your hands around your uncle’s—now husband’s—shoulders, blunt nails digging into his pale skin. Suddenly your head swam and something in the pit of your stomach screamed at you to flee, but it was too late. 

Jacaerys nodded encouragingly, though a silent tear was rolling down his cheek, and you swallowed the rising plea in your throat, the sight of his distress somehow making you braver.

The pressure grew as Aemond pressed the tip of his length against your entrance, gently, then firmer, as if he was trying to get you used to his presence there. “Breathe, little dragon,” he murmured, in the same almost-crooning voice he had used earlier, and it settled you somehow. 

Then, with a quick, firm snap of his hips, Aemond pushed inside—you cried out, the sharp pinch of his intrusion causing you to clench, pain irradiating your lower half. Jacaerys’ hands curled on the armrest of his chair and he breathed in sharply, startled. 

“Hush, little dragon,” Aemond soothed as you whimpered, himself sounding half inebriated. “It is done.”

Eyes closed against the pain, you could not tell if your sobs were those of sorrow or relief. As he had said, it was done, you had been irrevocably breached. Now, you expected him to mindlessly take you, but to your confusion, he did not.

“Aemond?” you asked when he pulled out, making you hiss. 

The stretch of him inside you still burned after he was gone, and you feared it would make the rest of the evening much more painful than you had anticipated. Rising to his knees between your parted thighs, he threw his hair over his shoulders and looked down at you appreciatively before unhooking your knees from his slim hips. 

Instead he planted your feet on the bedding and bent down, sliding down slightly until he could comfortably press a kiss between your breasts.

“Let a husband enjoy his reward,” he instructed, and you sunk back into the sheets and pillows, and surrendered to what he had in mind.

Jacaerys realized what was to occur, and he did not know if he ought to be relieved or furious. It seemed Aemond did not intend to take you mindlessly, and to either ignore or savor your pain. Instead he would linger and savor your pleasure, and Jace would have no escape from it.

He felt his lower lip wobble, furious tears rising behind his eyes, but he held on to his courage as best he could. You threw him a confused look, and he forced himself to give you an encouraging nod and a small smile. You flushed, keeping your eyes on him as Aemond pressed a row of kisses down your abdomen.

Jacaerys saw on your face the moment Aemond kissed your core, when your mouth fell open and your brows creased. Aemond curled his hands around the back of your thighs, holding you in a place with a bruising grip, humming against you. One of your hands tentatively reached for the top of his head, and he allowed you to tangle your fingers in his long locks.

He tried a broad lick, the flat of his tongue sliding along your crease, but it wasn’t until he prodded the small bud at the top of your folds with the point of his tongue that you truly surrendered. Pleasure came to you in sharp waves, the precise licks and presses at your core, simple but effective, almost ruthless in their persistence.

Little by little your knees lowered, your feet losing their balance on the sheets, and eventually your legs fell fully open. 

The sight was breathtaking, Jacaerys had to admit. The usually cold and collected man was allowing you to rock up against his face, your fingers tight in his silver strands. Jacaerys wanted to smirk at how the balance was reversed now, even if only for a moment.

He could also no longer deny the sight aroused him—despite his hatred for Aemond, the play of pleasure over your face was delightful, and each of your sighs were making him twitch in his trousers. The edge was within your reach, he could tell, and his own cock throbbed when you whined in frustration. Aemond had pushed himself back and over your body once more. 

“Wait,” you cried out, pushing a hand flat against his chest. Aemond ignored you, a frown coming over his face and he pushed back, but you did not relent. “I would—” you tried. “Valzȳrys, kostilus.”

Husband, please. That seemed to calm whatever protest had risen in Aemond, and although his frown did not relent, he let you guide him by the shoulders until he was sitting back on the sheets, and you were straddling his lap clumsily.

You threw a bewildered glance at your twin, and he could not tell what your intentions were, to submit Aemond or to make matters easier for yourself. Or mayhaps you had noticed his interest and wished for him to have an unobstructed view of what was to occur. Aemond did not let himself be subdued so easily, and it was obvious who had the upper hand when he pressed up inside you once more. 

The stretch still burned, but underneath it the thrumms of your refused peak roared back to life, a new kind of pleasure rising in you. His eye was dark and intense, his hands a guide at your hips. 

“Sȳz,” he praised, his lips stretching into a grin.

He willed himself to be patient, gauging what rhythm made you clench around him, made you grind back down against his thrusts, chasing your pleasure. For a little while the room was nearly silent, and the only thing Aemond could hear was your panting and Jace’s shaky breaths. He snapped his hips up harder; the vice of your cunt around his cock was making him wild and reckless, and he knew it wouldn’t be long now.

“Don’t silence yourself, little dragon, let him hear,” he suggested, grinning as you complied, a ragged sob tearing through you at the next thrust, pleasure building slowly, unfamiliar and coming from deep within.

In the next moment Jacaerys found himself rooted to the spot, speared all the way through by your burning gaze and Aemond’s victorious one. It was almost furious in its intensity, making the back of Jace’s own eyes prickle with hot tears.

Whether it was anger, frustration or jealousy, he could not tell anymore. His nails were digging crescent moons into his knees through his trousers, but the pain did nothing to soothe the hardness between his legs.

“Aemond,” you called urgently, and something snapped inside of your husband. In an instant he flipped you easily, and your back hit the sheets without great consideration. Legs propped on his slim waist, he kneeled between your parted knees, his face slack with pleasure. 

Your voice caught in your throat at the sight—his sapphire seemed to gleam, the thin curtain of his hair falling over his sharp features, and you could not stand it. You threw your head to the side, catching your brother’s desperate gaze just as the mounting pressure inside of you threatened to let out. 

Aemond kept looking down, curious, to where your fingers had slid over to your nub, pressing quick circles into it. Pride erupted in his chest as you tightened around his length, your peak finally tearing through you. You cried out, barely hearing Aemond’s dark chuckle over the rushing in your ears, helpless to the waves of pleasure washing over you, making you tremble and clench around his cock.

He fell forward, hiding his face and his grunts between the swells of your breasts, his cock spilling in time with your own pulses, a victorious sort of release shaking his slender frame. Years of tensions seemed to pour out of him and he almost wanted to praise you for it. 

Silence fell once more, and dread took over the last remnants of your release. You held yourself utterly still, waiting for Aemond to push himself back up, but he did not. Instead he pressed his forehead further at your breast bone, his breath coming in harsh pants. You dislodged your hand, still caught between your bellies, and uncaring for the wetness at your fingers, and reached for his head.

Palm settling over the crown of his hair, you threw your brother a confused look.

Jacaerys had followed your peak with breathless interest, and now that it was done, he found he still could not breathe. His skin felt too tight, stretched so thin across his muscles and bones that it itched, and it was all more than he could bear. Mayhaps Aemond was tamed for a minute, and he could make a swift exit.

“Perhaps I should go, now that it has—” he tried, only for Aemond to interrupt him with a tutting noise.

He unfurled his slim frame slowly, and his face was perfectly controlled once more. He pulled out of you without ceremony and slid off the bed, stretching and rolling the long muscles that sat beneath his pale skin.

“The night is still young, nephew,” he announced with a grin, clearly parading his bare body, which was now coated in a thin sheen of sweat. “Or perhaps we should be chivalrous and ask the lady. What do you say, princess? Should your brother stay?”

Bringing your knees together to hide yourself, you were taken aback by this sudden suggestion. You had hoped to slither away as soon as duty was done, but this strange display of vulnerability had you curious, and you thought it best not to unleash his anger if you refused—besides, you did not wish to part from Jacaerys quite yet, while you were still reeling from it all, leaving you exposed.

“He can stay,” you simply said, stalling for time, hoping for a way to recover that tender stillness he had displayed. It seemed pleasure of the flesh did not subdue him so easily.

You stood up, grateful for your twin who shot up from his chair and gave you an arm to hold. You looked around for something to cover with, but did not find any robe or dressing gown for you to put on. 

Jace, always a thought ahead of you, pulled a sheet from the bed and wrapped it around your quivering shoulders.

Still bare and unashamed, Aemond observed the little scene from the foot of the bed—he had to admit you painted a lovely picture, mirror images of each other, your soft hesitancy colliding with Jace’s obvious fury. The two of you were shaking for different reasons, and you almost looked like a pair of newborn fawns he longed to sink his teeth into.

Thus, he pressed the issue, eager to know what laid behind your restrained gestures and looks. 

“Tell me, nephew. I am not so naive to think you have never touched her, but I admit I was surprised to find her still a maid,” he hummed, sharp and crueler than was honorable. “That is an impressive control of your urges, I did not think the likes of you would be capable.”

“Enough of your taunting,” Jacaerys hissed, barely soothed by you running your hand down his arm.

Aemond chuckled darkly. “Do not be so hostile. I am offering. She is mine now, mine to do with as I please, and I think it would like to see you try,” he explained, amused at your puzzled look. “It is a one time offer, nephew. I will not be this generous again.”

If Jacaerys had been disoriented all throughout the day, none of it had prepared him for such a thing. He wondered what there would be to gain from it, if only leverage. Perhaps Aemond wished to give him a taste, only to hold it over his head for the rest of his days, and the thought was as unbearable as it was tempting.

“Disrobe him,” he suggested to you, almost a question, and the shadow of an idea crept up the back of your mind. 

Without a word, you raised your hands to the buttons of Jace’s doublet and unclasped the first one, nearest his throat. “Sister,” Jacaerys whispered, his own hands coming to cover yours. “I could still go.”

Instead of an answer, it was a kiss that you gave him, pressing yourself up until your mouth was flush with his, and unashamed. He melted into you by instinct, responding to your passion. Your tongues curled together, practiced, and he barely noticed your fingers slipping from his hold and following the row of clasps down to his waist, tugging at his belt.

Something dark spread behind Aemond’s breastbone, a longing for warmth and the honest familiarity of such a kiss. He found himself insatiably curious and hungry—he wondered how it would be, to witness the coupling of young love, and he knew he wanted to see it only for the satisfaction of holding it in his hand and threatening to crush it.

Belt undone and doublet pushed off his shoulders and onto the floor, Jace was quick to discard his boots, the back of his neck still risen in shivers, ready for this farce to be called off. His heart was in his throat, but the temptation was too much for him to resist, and his cock was hard despite his worries.

“Don’t spill inside her, if you can avoid it,” Aemond commanded, sitting back on the bed and pulling at your sheet until you took a few steps forward and laid back on the mattress, knees parted. “I hear moon tea is quite unpleasant.”

You forced yourself to ignore the heady possibility of such a consequence—bringing Jace’s child into this world, humiliating your husband and forcing him to annul. It would be terribly easy to pretend Aemond had never consummated, thus forcing your brother to act, as he himself was the only witness.

However, proof that this fantasy was nothing but wild imagination, you noticed that the inside of your thighs was wet, unpleasantly so, and you allowed Jacaerys to wipe them before he took his place between your parted legs. He had left his shirt and trousers on, seemingly unwilling to bare himself to Aemond’s gaze, which earned him an amused tilt of the head.

“Shyness? How endearing,” he mocked, but his mirth died when you welcomed Jace into your body, foreheads coming together in shared bliss. 

The sweet tightness made Jace’s head spin but he held on, pressing grateful kisses to your cheeks and lips. Euphoria was taking your breath and your voice, and you rocked back against him even though you felt sore, heartbreak and elation twirling together in your chest.

Even though it was only a bite of a poisoned apple, you gladly took it. No matter the twisted pleasure Aemond might have taken in watching you, knowing his offer was one of damnation, you made sure to commit every sigh and touch to your memory. 

Stretched at your side, Aemond watched, unraptured—the easy way with which you pressed up into Jace’s hands, the tip of your fingers tracing invisible lines between his freckles, and wondered how sin could look so honest and angelic. 

“Never been inside a woman, nephew?” he couldn’t help but ask, and Jace gritted his teeth against a retort. “I took your first and now you take his…” Aemond continued, burrowing closer until he could croon against your temple, pressing a kiss to it, while Jacaerys buried his face in your neck. “You should thank me for it.”

“I am on my knees with gratitude,” Jace replied, more of a hiss than a grunt.

Aemond wanted to chastise him for his impertinence but was taken aback, freezing in slight disbelief at your next move. Instead of reaching for your twin again, it was at the back of his own neck that your hand settled on, pulling him in. He allowed it, letting you lick into his mouth with that passion he had witnessed earlier, unbearable soft and slow.

He returned your kiss, exploring, in hope of tasting the sweetness that seemed to bloom between you and your twin. Some days he envied this state of being born as two—never in his life had he ever felt so tied to someone he could call his own, and he knew that even the satisfaction of ripping you away from your twin’s arms could never fill that absence.

He would have to find contentment in the fact that it was in his mouth that you were moaning as Jacaerys thrusted into you, and it was sweeter than honey on his tongue.

Even as you ran out of breath and broke the kiss you kept him close, your moans fanning over his cheek, your hand a vice at the back of his neck, pulling some of his hair uncomfortably.

“Thank you, husband,” you sighed after a while, and Aemond knew he could not let Jacaerys have this victory. 

“Let me give you a hand in pleasing her,” he said, breathless when he would have wanted to sound biting.

He reached down to where your two bodies were joined and pressed at your core. He drew a light circle on it, pressing and teasing until a whine tore out of your throat, and then let his slim fingers find a steady rhythm, pleasuring you in time with Jacaerys’ gradually hurried thrusts.

Fury was scratching at the inside of Jace’s ribs but his heart was too full. For countless nights he had dreamed of having you, of taking what was rightfully his by birth, but given to another by oath, and he almost didn’t care that it was finally offered to him by the man who now could claim ownership over you.

For a moment he lost himself in his worst nightmare and his greatest wish tangled together, and in the way you clenched around him and clung to him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging in the back of his thighs.

Jace was not allowed the satisfaction of hearing you falling over the edge, instead Aemond swallowed the moans of your release, keeping enough awareness to notice that your twin was falling apart, ready to follow you. 

“Enough,” Aemond commanded, his hand curling at the back of Jace’s head and pulling on his curls until he regretfully pulled out of you, allowing himself one slow, final thrust.

Your hand tangled with his around his length and soon, ropes of pearly white were coating your skin, Jace’s groan of ecstasy buried in the side of your neck. 

“Well done,” Aemond hummed, and in one last bout of sadistic pleasure, pressed a kiss to the top of Jacaerys’ head, uncaring for the fact that he was still quivering from his release. “You may leave now, I believe you have seen enough to confirm the marriage was consummated,” he instructed as he rose from the bed again, choosing to ignore the renewed hardness between his own legs.

He was unused to succumbing to his desires, and he did not wish to partake in that weakness shared by so many men. He would take you whenever was necessary, he told himself, and no more. It would not do well for him to get used to your warmth.

“You may go, brother,” you added tenderly, and pressed a kiss to Jacaerys’ cheek under Aemond’s cold gaze. The young man nodded with a small smile and picked up his doublet and boots in silence. 

Redressing himself, he kept his eyes low on the floor, shame coloring his cheeks and making his lower lip wobble. However when he walked past Aemond to leave the room, he purposefully held his head high despite his obvious emotion.

“Give me a son soon enough, and perhaps I shall allow him to come and play once more,” Aemond then turned to you and hummed, not bothering to check that the door had fully closed behind Jacaerys. 

To his great surprise, you did not cower in humilation—instead you stood up much as your brother had done, still bare and your skin barely wiped from the evidence of what had taken place this night. You leveled him with a gaze he loathed to realize was some sort of pity.  

“Be tender or be cruel, it matters not,” you said, sounding more sad than anything else. “I will never give you what I gave him.”

Without another word you picked up your cotton shift and slipped it over your body once more, leaving your wedding gown splayed on the back of a chair, discarded and forgotten, and you crossed the room without so much as a glance to him, your bare feet making quiet sounds on the stone floors. 

Aemond barely heard the door creak open. He had no word for the heat that burned behind his eye. 

Dividers by @zaldritzosrose. Requested by @thewhisperedone ♡

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Aemond Taglist 1:‬ @snowystark @qyburnsghost @darkenchantress @itscatlien-blog @castellomargot

@cardi-bre91 @malfoytargaryen @iamfandomnerd @hb8301

@pasta-rask @chattylurker @svtansdaddyx @its-sam-allgood @amarillys92