"Nursing on the Poison that Never Stung" {Aemond x Reader}
Summary: It was the one night you were supposed to have off from work. Naturally, that was when Aemond Targaryen came in to bother you (for good reason). He came in for weeks after that to "bother" you some more. Yet, one night changed all of that.
Warning(s): SMUT, PIV sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), loss of virginity, porn with plot, fingering, riding, titty sucking, dirty talk (High Valyrian style), eye trauma, cussing, mention of past child SA, attempted SA (not done by Aemond), canon typical violence, and someone's throat gets ripped out.
I'm so sorry it took me SOO long. Not only is my life kind of falling at the seams, but this chapter is also hella long so I hope it was worth it! There's a bunch of High Valyrian in this chapter. I myself am not fluent, but I tried to search up phrases and familiarize myself with some of the grammar, so I hope it's accurate. This chapter has a bit more sensitive themes (but mainly at the end, most of it is just porn with a little plot).
It had been a week since Aemond Targaryen helped walk you home; and touched you so intimately in your childhood bedroom of all places.
You would see him come and go once in a while from Sylvi’s brothel and talk with him every so often, but not for long. Not even long enough to do anything but greet him, ask him how he was, and then have him be whisked away by Sylvi. It was always a flip of a coin for her to either glare at you or smile every time she did.
Tonight was the rare night you would be at the brothel not to prepare for your ‘Woman at the Well’ act, but to mend the clothes of the women. It was something you did only once every moon, but it was a nice break in between your more so risky job.
Because you mended the clothes so rarely, it would take hours upon hours to do. That was why you begun it at dinner with the girls who usually helped pretty you up.
And, just like the week prior, their minds were filled with-.
“-I heard that war will come to King’s Landing in a fortnight.” One of the younger workers theorized.
Chansey scoffed, eating her dinner. “I heard that you run your mouth with gossip when it should be running down a man’s chest.”
The girls laughed, and you joined along with them momentarily. Then, Valda broke it up.
“I heard that it’s a curse the Kingsguard put upon the land by parading the skull of a dragon through the streets.”
Silence filled the air as if Death himself walked in. Once again, it was Valda who spoke first. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them burned the city to the ground simply to take revenge.”
She stormed out of the room with the slam of the door. Murmurs followed, questioning and complaining of her concern.
“Don’t mind her, girls.” Chansey shook her head. “She’s only upset because she got the clap.”
It was unfortunate for her, but fortunate for you; you had someone to talk to and not worry about a smelly man bursting in to ask for sex.
So, there you were in one of the private suites wearing only your corset and a skirt. You were sitting comfortably on the bed mending a thin dress as Valda laid her head on your lap. It was only the third day of the week; there was no way that many rich suitors would want to reserve a private room.
“How’s your side?” She asked.
“Tender,” you answered. “but I feel much better. How’s your clap?”
“It hurts to piss.” She groaned. “And do you remember when you got shitfaced and saw that fella kissing my cunt?”
Giggling, you nodded. “I do. Against popular belief, I remember many things about that night.”
“What’s this about your cunt kissing fella?”
“He said he was going to come back tonight.” She whined
“And you’re sure he’s not the one who gave you the disease?”
Sighing, Valda sat up, playfully glaring at you. “Even if he did, he’d have the decency to come up and apologize.”
You chuckled, finishing up your final stitch on the dress before moving onto a sock. “If he does, he’s not kicking me out of this room.”
“You can join us if you’d like.” She joked. “Or just watch, whatever you want.”
“And get the clap from you?!” You laughed.
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
You sighed. “At this rate, might as well get it out of the way.”
Valda hummed. “You don’t mind just ‘throwing’ your purity away now?”
“I’m the only woman in this building who hasn’t.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I like that you’re a little romantic; that you want it to be with someone you love and trust.”
You ceased your stitching, dropping your eyes. “Of course I’ll do it with someone I trust but…I’d rather do it now so it would feel good later.”
Valda gave you a look, saying your name warningly.
“No more talk of this.” You smiled. “I’m glad your tantrum ended.”
She rolled her eyes. “Who said it ended?”
“I love my life.” She sighed. “Regardless of where I work, or how much I make, I am happy. If the Targaryen children or Rhaneyra’s bastards want to make a war because they do not know how to-.”
“-Hold your tongue!” You whispered. “What you say is treason, what if anyone were to hear you?”
She laughed. “We’re in a private room.”
“Someone could be outside and be listening in.”
“They’d make out anything over the moans of men and the women that are faking them?”
“-They say Rook’s Rest was a victory, but my brother says otherwise.”
Yes, her brother, Mikhail. No, not a knight of the City Watch or the Kings Guard, but a sailor. Still, he was a sailor who had a silver tongue and could make anyone speak simply with his charm. If it wasn’t secrets he specialized in, it was exporting goods. Sometimes, it was an ordinary transportation of ordinary goods. Other times, either the goods were illegal, and anyone found with them would be hung, or the transportation of them would be off the books (therefore illegal) and a man would be publicly scourged.
Luckily, Mikhail avoided it all.
“What does your brother say?” You questioned, interest piquing.
Despite her early protests of anyone being unable to hear you, she leaned in. “That the king and his dragon fell from the sky while bathing in fire.”
A chill ran down your spine, but she wasn’t finished.
“He also said your little prince had been there on his dragon.”
Taking a deep breath, the first thing you said was “He’s not my little prince.”
“That’s what upsets you?” Valda chuckled bitterly, saying your name gently. “You understand what this means?”
She sucked in a breath. “Mikhail’s told me that-.”
“-Mikhail told you that some random man told him what?”
“That it was Aemond Targaryen who lit his own brother aflame.” Valda hissed lowly.
Swallowing the growing dread within you, you said. “Were you there?”
Valda said your name, almost as if she was begging you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Like our Madame has told me.”
“Sylvi is jealous, I am genuinely fearful.”
“Jealous? She’s jealous of me?” You scoffed. “As-as if I stole something that was hers, when in fact, he isn’t hers because he is a person and she-!”
The sound of rushing footsteps and a body clashing into the wall stopped your thoughts. Valda opened her mouth but was met with the door slamming open. There, only wearing a pair of trousers, was Aemond; his hand clutched over his left eye, writhing in pain.
You called his name, standing. “What’s wrong?”
“Take it out.” He huffed.
“This damned thing.” He grunted. “It’s burning.”
Only being able to nod, you gently took his arm and led him to the bed. “Sit, sit, sit.” You turned to Valda. “Do-do you know how to do this?”
She shook her head, just as much terror was on her face. As she opened her mouth to respond, you watched as Sylvi burst through the half-opened door. “My prince, what is the matter?!”
He groaned in response, digging his nails into your arm.
Sylvi turned to you and Valda. “Both of you, head down to the healers and-.”
“-Leave us.” He heaved in pain.
You didn’t need to be told twice. Yet, once you rose from the bed, he didn’t let go of your arm. “Stay.”
“What?” Your voice broke.
Sylvi shook her head. “Aemond-.”
Valda leapt off the bed, giving one last look of regret to you before she left. Sylvi continued to stare at you as if you had been the one to scream at her, before turning and hastily leaving, slamming the door.
You were truly on your own.
Taking control as best as you could, your eyes darted to the opened sewing kit on the vanity. Tweezers. Last time you checked, they should’ve been in there!
You dumped the box upside down, several needles creating almost a trap around you until a pair of tweezers landed on your foot. Picking them up in a snap, you stood in front of the prince.
“Aemond, Aemond,” you clutched his shoulder. “you need to remove your hand.”
When he did so, you winced at the sight before you: the creases of his eye were as red as the morning sun, and the sapphire in his eye was as blue as ever. You set down the tweezers and reached over to the nightstand beside the bed, grabbing the small tub of cream Valda had for her own condition.
“It’s a cure all.” You could only say, opening it. “It should help.”
He gritted his teeth in reply.
Dipping your fingers into the tub and hesitantly rubbing in over the redness. He hissed at the coldness of it, and you mumbled an apology. Once his skin was covered, you set the tub down, and your gaze hovered over the tweezers on the bed.
“Just take it out.” Aemond begged.
“It’ll hurt.” You warned, more so for yourself.
Your throat tightened at his voice; a voice you had never heard him use before. Taking a deep breath, you ripped a piece of your skirt, bunching it into a small cloth and placing it onto your lap. You hovered the tweezers over the sapphire eye in one hand and cupped his cheek with the other.
He listened with trembling breath.
“Cou-count to three, and I’ll do it.”
You dug the tweezers into his left eye. A scream tore through his throat and into your ears. You forced yourself to keep steady, pulling on the sapphire. It was barely budging, but it still was moving.
“I’m sorry!” You yelled over his cries.
Aemond forced his screams into raged groans, clutching the sheets of the bed beneath him. “Keep going.”
“If you need me to stop-.”
You went back in, twisting the tweezers instead of just pulling. The sapphire was moving more than it had been, and with one final tug, it was out. Instantly dropping the tweezers onto the floor, you took the cloth off your dress and covered his left eye as he brought up his own hand to hold it.
“I know, I know,” You whimpered, still holding his face and kissing his left brow, mumbling against his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
With a final kiss to his forehead, you pulled away and looked at him as his body shuddered from the pain. He opened his eye, fresh tears escaping. It was only then, in his vulnerability as he stared back at you, did you realize:
You had just placed your lips upon him.
He silenced you, his right hand clutching your neck. Your breath stilled, as if you were to breathe, you wouldn’t be able to anymore. His one eye burned into yours, silently begging him to have mercy on whatever would happen next.
It was as if he was trying to devour your face when your lips weren’t enough. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he tried to kiss every inch of skin. His teeth got into the mix of it, leaving temporary marks.
Setting your hand on his bare chest, you pushed him away once you began to see stars. Your chest rising and falling as if you had run for your life, you looked at him. No more tears had fallen from his right eye, and from his left…there was skin still reddened and irritated from your prodding and pulling. The long scar had been most apparent to you that night.
You must have been the first person to have truly seen him like this. Not as a fearsome prince with one eye, not as a killer…
But a man; a man who ran to you and only wanted you in a time of great distress.
With one, brave breath, you placed the lightest of kisses across his scar; barely touching his skin. You hand traveled into his hair, pressing your lips down the bridge of his nose until you finally made it to his mouth with the same gentleness.
He followed your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you impossibly closer. You were on your knees, practically hovering over his lap when his kisses became more feverous little by little. It was when he bit your bottom lip you finally pulled away.
“You should go to the healers downstairs.” You said, just remembering why he came up to you in the first place. “The best one is named Alezander. Or-or you have those fancier ones at the Red Keep, right? Perhaps they’ll know more how to-.”
Aemond only hummed loud enough to get your attention, but other than that, spent more of his time unlacing your corset.
“Out of all the days to wear undergarments…” He shook his head, teasing.
“I apologize that I didn’t dress appropriately for your liking tonight but-Aemond, I’m serious!” You grabbed his hands from around your waist, stopping him. “I don’t want you to get an infection.”
His smile did not waver. He took one of his hands out from your grip and stroked your cheek. “Please.” He mimicked.
“I’m not going to ask you again-.”
He laid you down on the bed, then traveling down to your legs, and his head disappearing under your skirt. A squeak escaped your mouth when you felt his lips upon your right ankle, then your knee.
Your leg was soon resting over his shoulder, and you felt his nose brush your pearl before his lips followed.
Another groan left you as he continued to kiss you somewhere you never knew you needed to be kissed before. Valda had told you how wonderful it is…but gods, you never believed her until then.
It was embarrassing how high your cries sounded as he continuously licked strips up and down your sweltering cunt. His fingers soon parted the folds, and just somehow, you became more sensitive, clutching the sheets beneath you.
There was a fire burning in your stomach, but it tightened and tightened like a knot in your hair. You arched your back with each growing pleasure, and you spotted Aemond’s hand reaching for you.
Taking it, you pressed a kiss to each knuckle before placing it on the top of your breast peeking out of the corset. He squeezed it every time his nose bumped against your clitoris, and the fire within you turned into an inferno until you were rocking against his face, moaning with each thrust.
A haze of tiredness you’d never experienced swept over you. You hadn’t realized Aemond came out of your skirt until he was looming over you, kissing your cheeks and down your throat.
“What was that?” Your words slurred.
“My admiration for you.” He nibbled on your pulse point. “You’ve felt that before, haven’t you?”
“Your admiration or that?”
His hand traveled back under your skirt, teasing your clit and inserting part of his finger into you. You gasped at the sensitivity of it. “That.”
He retracted his hand. “You’ve never touched yourself?”
“Is that why he called it a ‘little death’?”
“The man pawing after me when I saw you with your cock out.” You admitted as if you were drunk. “He said he’d give me a ‘little death’ when I was stabbed.”
Aemond nodded, helping you sit up and begin to unlace your corset. “Do you remember his name?”
“He didn’t tell me. I felt like I died a little just now, that’s why I said it.” You stopped his hands again. “You didn’t ask me if I want this.”
You nod at first, then shrink into yourself. “I…I don’t think you’ll enjoy it that much.”
“Valda said it hurt the first time she did it.”
“She laid with a man who had no idea what he was doing.” He brushed your lip with his thumb. “Just relax.”
You determined that Aemond Targaryen had a way about him; how you somehow could trust him after everything. So that’s why you turned your back to him, making it easier for him to remove your corset. After it was fully unlaced, you slipped it off, revealing your naked back to him.
“I’m not turning until you’re bare first.”
He didn’t give a retort or an insult. You felt the weight of him behind you leave, and heard his trousers fall to the floor.
You wanted to then and there, but you didn’t. Instead, you rose up onto your knees and tugged your skirt down. It was all over when you tried to step out of it; falling onto your side with your other leg still in the skirt.
All you could do was laugh at that point. Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your arm, laying behind you, lightly chuckling in your ear. He helped you slip out of your skirt, and then ran a finger over your side where a scar was beginning to form.
“A little, but not horribly.” You rested on the pillow.
Aemond turned you gently onto your back, his eye running down your naked form. You mirrored him, taking in just how lean he truly was. You were just a girl as well; of course, your gaze paused on his cock dangling between his legs. He never looked away as he crawled on top of you.
“This might feel strange.” He warned, lowering himself and pressing his cock just against your center.
He was right; it felt strange when he inserted himself. In fact, it felt wrong. You whimpered at the feeling, the tightness and the discomfort. Aemond shushed you, kissing your tightly shut eyes.
“Gimin, gimin.” he whispered. “Lykirī. Lykirī.”
Despite not knowing what he was saying to you, you felt at peace. Your breathing slowed as the pain fell away, and you opened your eyes. You took his face into your hands, bringing his lips down to yours, and wrapping your legs around his waist, your heels pressing into his backside.
“Please,” you begged. “just go slow.”
He placed a kiss to your brow before rolling his hips. You had decided that, if and when you were going to lay with a man for the first time, you would never fake your pleasure for his comfort. Whether it was a stranger, a friend, or even a prince of the Seven Kingdoms.
You would let Aemond Targaryen know if he was doing a bad job.
Yet, as he rocked into you at a gentle pace, and the trail of his pubic hair caressed your bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help the small, staccato grunts that escaped. One of his hands took yours, holding and pressing it into the mattress to hold himself up, while the other held your face. Your free hand traveled into his hair, pulling him chest-to-chest with you, and placing your lips on his.
He quickened once you copied his thrusts, wrapping one of his arms around your waist to move you at an angle that felt…oh.
Your cries grew embarrassingly louder, tugging on his hair and causing him to moan right into your mouth. You were barely kissing now, just your lips hovering over one another as he fucked you.
His hand guided yours down to where his cock and your cunt met. At the feeling of something moving against your hand, your eyes flew open.
“Aōla renigon?” He asked. “Do you feel me?”
“Yes, yes!” You gasped as you felt his bulge move within you.
You were lowered back down onto the bed, but he did not slow for a second. His mouth went to your chest, taking one of your breasts in between his lips. His tongue circled your areola, and it was then your hips began to grow sore while his found a new vigor pounding into you.
He was more vocal too, and as his groans reverberated through your skin and the room, the growing pleasure within you was climbing and climbing until-.
A cry none like the others tore through you. No, it wasn’t loud. Unrestrained, yes, but it wasn’t so comically deafening. Aemond pulled himself away from you, and took his throbbing dick into his hands, palming himself and tossing his head back in a groan.
Spurts of his cum tainted your stomach and quivering legs as you laid flat on your back.
Both of your chests rose and fell like waves on the sea in a storm, and you couldn’t look away from each other. Never in your life had you felt so…okay with being completely bare in front of a man.
To be fair, it was the first time you were.
Aemond grabbed a spare blanket that was on the bed and wiped off his spent. You hadn’t even asked him to, but he did so regardless. As he worked over you, you moved a piece of hair out of his face.
He smiled, sitting up and tossing the blanket off the bed. “I’m the first man that bedded you, of course you say that.”
“No.” You shook your head, sitting up. “I mean it. At least, when you’re being nice you are.”
Looking down at your legs, you saw a strain of blood upon the blanket. “Oh shit.”
“It’s natural.” He immediately reassured. “This was the first time you-.”
“-No, I know. It’s just still unusual.”
Aemond kissed your cheek before crawling between your legs, resting his head on your chest. You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart finally slow. The only sound in the room were both of your steady breaths.
“What happened before you came here?” You asked in the silence.
“I was with Sylvi.” He surprised you by answering. “My eye had felt strange the whole time, until it was too much. I asked where you were, and she told me.”
“You know that’s not all of it.”
As if it would draw your attention away, he placed a kiss to your breast. Rolling your eyes, you pulled him off so he could properly look at you. “When you took me home, you doubled over in pain because of your eye. That was a week ago.”
You saw right through him as he had done to you. Sighing, he laid down beside you, shutting his eye. “I have to take the jewel out every so often to clean both it and the socket. It hurts to do so, and I’ve been busy considering my sister is trying to usurp my brother.”
Rhaenyra, you had to remind yourself for a second, not Queen Halena.
“You’ve kept it in for a while.” You finished for him.
“I have.” He looked back at you. “And before you ask, I’ll get to the maesters tomorrow and have them put it back in.”
“Sylvi didn’t tell you I was here, did she?”
“I asked one of the girls serving me wine.”
You hummed, turning on your side. “Not before putting on your undergarments.”
“I didn’t want to frighten you.”
Laughing, your mind was taken back to that night you wandered upon him and Sylvi as you were bleeding out.
“Gods above, you were naked as a newborn babe when I was being stitched up!”
A grin etched his lips; he smiled more when you were with him those days. “I didn’t have time to cover myself.”
“It was odd though, how you walked out into the open with your cock on display.”
“It was the second time I had done that.”
“I suppose princes are allowed to do that.” You sighed. “I suppose men are allowed to do that.”
Aemond drew his eye back up to the ceiling. “Women are more beautiful in their natural state than men. It’s truly a shame they cannot walk outside completely bare.”
You rose your brow at the statement, turning onto your stomach and poking his cheek teasingly. “Oh? And if you were king, would you let them?”
He looked back at you, his eye briefly running down your body.
“You nasty, rotten dog!” You shoved him, laughing.
His face changed into a moment of panic, and you thought you said something wrong until he slid off the bed and crouched on the floor. Sitting up you watched as he frantically crawled on his hands and knees, mumbling in High Valyrian.
You called his name, feet hanging off the bed. “What is it?”
“The sapphire!” He hissed. “I can’t find it.”
Grasping the seriousness, you got onto the floor with him, searching the entire floor for the jewel. You both must’ve searched for just a few minutes until you heard Aemond sniffling. He wasn’t crying, but his face started to turn red from frustration.
“Hey,” you said softly. “if we don’t find it now, we’ll-.”
“-You wouldn’t understand!” He spat. “If I don’t find it this instant than she’ll-!”
He stopped himself, his anger crumbling just as it began. His body was tensed and puffed out like a bird trying to show aggression; but underneath all that, you saw terror.
“What will she do?” You asked, sitting up taller.
His gaze dropped, and his breathing quickened as he rapidly blinked back his tears.
“May I touch you?” You questioned, and he looked at you as if you had told him you loved him. He nodded. You cupped his face in your hands. “Whatever she wants to do to you, I won’t let her. Do you hear me? I’ll kick and scream like a wailing child before I let her harm you.”
For whatever reason at all (perhaps it was because he was afraid, perhaps it was because you were both naked on the floor, or perhaps it was because he had told you a shocking piece of history he had with her), but you assumed ‘she’ was Sylvi.
A woman you had come to trust ever since you were a child. A woman who had in turn, took advantage of a boy the same age you were when she proclaimed she’d never let a man touch you, even if he was Viserys himself.
You still thought that, of course, when Aemond wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, kissing you before then resting his head in your lap. You returned to softly brushing his hair.
“She made the maesters put it in.” He confessed. “She could only look at her son for what he was for only a few moons until she became disgusted.”
…He was speaking of his mother….the Dowager Queen.
It was still heartbreaking; so, you decided to ask. “And what is her son?”
He didn’t even have to think. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the softest of kisses to his scar. “Would a monster walk me home in the rain and show kindness to the only other person I can call family? Would a monster feel sorrow in believing that he is a monster?”
Aemond hid himself further into your lap. You traced your hand up and down his spine. “It’s late. Perhaps you should-?”
Sighing lightly, you teased. “Could we at least be on the bed?”
He didn’t leave your arms for another hour after that; and no one had knocked on the door either.
Two weeks later, three things were apparent. The first was that all of King’s Landing had been put on lockdown, not allowing any person to leave, or any person to enter. The next, was that Aemond had been appointed as Prince Regent, which added to Valda’s statement of him being the one to purposefully set his brother ablaze with his dragon.
And the third: You were completely, and most ardently addicted to him.
Almost every night, whether it was after you put your grandmother to bed, or even after luring and robbing a man in nothing but a thin dress, you would meet him at Sylvi’s brothel in one of the private rooms.
Each time you fucked was better than the last. In the short time you had been with him, you’d gone from being an unsure, inexperienced girl, to having touched every inch of the prince’s body. Some nights were more intense than others; physically and emotionally.
One night, you would be rocking into him until both your skins turned red, and the other, you would be holding him in your arms, talking about nothing and everything.
He taught you how to touch yourself, you taught him how to fully bare his soul to you (or at least…you thought he did).
“I haven’t done this for a while.” Aemond told you one night as you kneeled in between his legs.
You giggled, still high off of how he used his fingers on you prior. “Which part?”
“A lot of it. I hadn’t with Sylvi since…I can’t even recall.”
Swallowing at his words, you asked. “You mean, you didn’t fuck her?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t even let her kiss me, it felt…confusing.”
“I saw her mouth on you…”
Placing his hand on your cheek, he rubbed his thumb over your lips. “Perhaps I was imagining it to be someone else’s.”
He didn’t have to imagine it that night.
Whenever you arrived at the brothel, the worst reaction from the other girls (mainly Valda) was a disapproving shake of the head, or light teasing. Then, there was Sylvi.
She had her back turned to you one night as she counted coin. You returned from a job (he had pulled your hair, so you would have to tell Aemond to be gentle), and it was the first time you were alone with her. Other nights, she would stare at your from across the room as a man pawed and groped her, all the while, you were on your way to find the Prince Regent.
You tried to tiptoe past her, but she turned as if she knew you were already there.
She spoke your name with a smile. “How was the night?”
You approached her, reaching into the pocket of your dress, then throwing her the small sack. Sylvi opened it, her face lighting up.
“Seven Hells…” She gasped.
“I know.” You shrugged. “I didn’t expect him to be so wealthy either.”
“Did you rob a Lannister?” She jested.
You thought it was over once you gave her the coin, and so you tried to brush past her to go up the staircase. Only for her to catch your hand.
“Stay,” she said. “I feel like I haven’t properly spoken to you in ages.”
“Of course you can.” She laughed, pulling you around so she could see your eyes. “I’ll call in your little friend to make us cake.”
“-She makes Northern Snow, right?”
“-You’ve done so well, I say you-.”
“-Can’t you just leave me alone?!”
You hated yelling; you felt like you would throw up every time you did. But she wouldn’t stop, you had to. Her smile dropped. Not in anger, not in sadness, but annoyance.
“Leave you alone to do what?” She challenged.
“I…” You glanced off to the side; there wasn’t anything there, you just didn’t want to look at her. Then, you finally did. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to talk. I know that the arrangement between Prince Aemond and I upsets you-.”
“-You assume I’m jealous of you?”
“What else am I supposed to assume?”
“That I worry for you.” She cupped your cheek.
You pull away, laughing joylessly. “Why is everyone telling me that? You were with him for nights on end and never had anyone afraid for you.”
“Why? Why isn’t it the same.”
You could only gawk at her; jaw loosely hanging. Deciding not to even grace her with a retort, you turned on your heel and rushed up the stairs.
“What would your mother think of you pleasuring the prince for free?” She asked.
Freezing where you stood, you didn’t even have the strength to turn and look at her. So, you forced yourself to stand taller. “What would my mother think of you stealing a child’s innocence?”
You were no longer in the mood to be kind.
She didn’t say anything for a bit. “His brother was the one to-.”
“‘-I don’t care if Viserys himself came into my brothel. I would be put to the sword before I let a man lay a hand on a child.’” You recited perfectly.
Sylvi breathed deeply, folding her hands. “King Aegon did not come in asking for a child, he came in with one; one I was not responsible for maintaining his honor-.”
“What do you think will come from this?” She taunted. “Hm? Do you seek only carnal pleasure? Pleasure in knowing a Targaryen desires you? Or are you truly a foolish little girl? You think he’ll ask for your hand in marriage, only for him to place it around his cock!”
You still hadn’t turned to look at her. Tears pricked your eyes as you trembled with rage. Gripping the railing, you spoke coolly.
“It doesn’t matter what I seek from the Prince Regent. What matters is you keep your childish envy far from the both of us. Goodnight, Sylvi.”
When you got to the room, you didn’t give Aemond the time to ask what was wrong before you sealed your lips with his. He didn’t stop you.
There were more nights than not he would speak in High Valyrian as you shared your body with him. You giggled while he pressed kisses to your chest.
“You could be insulting me, and I wouldn’t even know it.”
He looked up at you, his mouth traveling lower. “Perhaps I should teach you then.”
Of course, you thought it was just him flirting; saying something tender and personal to make you feel good.
But then he brought you books the next night; books for children on how to learn the language properly, fictional stories in High Valyrian, and a dictionary from Common to High Valyrian. He had meant it.
“Gods above.” You breathed, laying on your stomach, flipping through the pages of a book. “I don’t think I’ve read so much.”
“Is it too much for you?” Aemond pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“No, I actually enjoy it.”
You felt the bed dip on each side of your thighs as he hovered above you. “I’ll take you to the Red Keep one day.” He teased his cock over the globes of your ass. “You cannot comprehend the library until you see it.”
Humming, you shut the book. “I would adore that.”
He hadn’t taken you to the Red Keep at all, and he never would.
It was one night (one damned, fucking night) that determined it.
“Skorkydoso glaesā?” You questioned, lying under the covers with him.
“Sȳz iksan, kirimvose. Se ao?”
He furrowed his brow. “Skoro syt?”
You mirrored him, hesitating on your words. “Syrī tosh ao?”
Aemond stared at you before a grin spread wide across his cheeks.
“You cannot hate my company that much.”
“What?!” You sat up in shock. “I told you I’m doing well because I’m with you!”
“Glaeson, you said. It means ‘Not well’. Glaesan means you’re well.”
Sighing, you laid down flat on the mattress. “I’m never going to get it.”
He traced his fingers over your stomach. “You won’t if you stop now. Again.”
“Can’t you read me one of those children’s books again? The one about the bird and the fish, or something.” You begged. “I’ll translate it.”
“If it gives you any peace of mind,” he kissed the tip of her ear. “you speak better than my brother.”
Huffing, you looked up at him. “May I make a request?”
“I’m not reading another story.”
“It’s not that, I swear.”
“Let us never talk about family when either of us are naked.”
He turned you onto your side, hugging you from behind. “I’ll allow it.”
You relaxed against his bare chest, deciding to fill the air with your first thought. “I had three nightmares last night.”
“Three?” He sounded offput, but still brushed your shoulder with his lips.
“One right after the other. I thought I woke up, but I was still asleep.”
“I can’t really remember.” you curled your hand around his. “There were stacks of dirty laundry and chairs everywhere at some point. You were mean to me in one of them.”
You shoved him off of you; not so roughly to hurt him, but not playfully.
He still chuckled. “But you have the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”
You scoffed. “Now you’re lying.”
Aemond placed his hand on your shoulder as he sat up, turning you to look at him. He said your name genuinely. “I mean it.”
A smile finally appeared on your lips, and you snickered, pushing him away jokingly this time. “How in the world have you not married yet when you say such loving things?”
He sat against the headboard. “I was meant to.”
“Oh…” Well…you weren’t exactly expecting that. “And why didn’t you?”
“I was betrothed to a Baratheon girl to secure alliance. After what happened, Lord Borros wasn’t so keen on letting me be near her.”
No one should blame you for not knowing how to properly respond right away. So, after some thought, you said. “Did you want to get married when you were younger?”
“Not much of something I imagined; I suppose you did though?”
You smiled shyly. “Gigi would read me her fictional novels; many were romance.”
“And you wanted a knight in shining armor to come and whisk you away from your dull life.”
“No, that was Gigi.” You sat up, grabbing a comb on the nightstand and began to run in through your hair. “I much preferred the quiet, knowledgeable boy who was outshined by the loud and brutish men.”
He hummed. There were rare moments like these where you could not see his gaze, but you knew how it burned into your skin. How, despite being given permission to, he held himself back from touching you.
“And which did your mother prefer?”
At the mention of her…you didn’t feel sad. Was this how you thought he was the one for you? How you didn’t feel like he was invading you whenever he asked about her? How you wanted to tell him about her?
“I’m actually not sure.” You looked at him, grinning. “I think she had to see all sides of men and stopped caring for them.”
“They can be ugly, I’m sure.”
You nodded, setting the comb down sitting up and resting your head on his shoulder, “They can, but a few of them aren’t so bad.”
“What do you remember most about her?” He asked.
A memory resurfaced sooner than you thought. “On the rare days she’d wash our clothes and bedding, she’d let me help. I’d get to stomp out the dirt, hit the clothes, but my favorite part was after she’d dry everything. Especially on a hot day when I was little, she’d come in and toss all of the blankets and towels on me; I’ve never felt anything warmer in my life.”
Aemond’s gaze drifted from you to the front of the room. “It must have been nice.”
You tilted your head. “Something’s bothering you. I won’t ask but-.”
“What?” You took your head off his shoulder to look at him properly.
He sighed. “When we were children, and I had claimed Vhagar, one of them wasn’t happy for me. She said that she was hers to claim because she had been her mother’s dragon. She attacked me, and the other three followed. I fought them off and tried to run, but they caught me. I had struck Jacaerys with a rock, and Luke had struck my eye with his blade.”
“I forgave him for it long ago.” He leaned farther back, sighing. “I understand why he felt the need to defend himself; I don’t forgive him for getting away with it…and my mother didn’t for so long.”
She hated him, you knew that already. It hadn’t been any of your business before, but now…
“My mama would’ve liked you.”
The words leave your mouth before you could stop them. That was when he finally looked at you, a smile threatening to show. “Why?”
“Well, you’re funny, and intelligent-.”
“-Oh, stop; but do go on.” He teased.
“And you know that I am more so those things than you are.”
“Well, what is it you want me to say?” You laughed, dramatically tossing yourself back down onto the bed. “Oh Aemond, you’re foul and arrogant, but kiss me anyway because you have the most fearsome, biggest dragon in the-!”
He followed your order, leaning over and kissing your lips fully before caging you between in arms. “You should meet her one of these days.”
“Vhagar?” You chuckled. “She’d kill me.”
“Perhaps, but not until I take you up on her.”
You shook your head. “No.”
“I’m not stepping foot on that dragon.”
“Oh!” You gasped in an attempt to taunt him. “Oh, you command me to?! What else will my Prince Regent command of me?”
He smirked, kissing the tip of your nose. “As we are in the sky, I will do unspeakable things to you.”
The words did not reach meaning as you heard them. Then, once they did, you began to laugh. No matter what Aemond said to you, you could not stop laughing.
“What is it?” He questioned.
You refuted. “I can’t say it.”
“Your Prince Regent commands you.”
Taking the deepest of breaths to relax yourself, you finally said. “The first time I ride a dragon, it will not be while I’m riding y-.”
His lips on yours silence you once again. Though this time, he wasn’t letting up; diving his tongue into your mouth as he began to place more of his weight on top of you. Before he could completely trap you, you tossed yourself over him, straddling and holding him down, panting.
“I wouldn’t mind it now; if you’re fine with that.”
He grinned like the devil, his hands squeezing your hips. “You can practice.”
Giggling, you took his cock in your hands and rose yourself up before sinking down onto him. You were still wet from earlier that night, so it didn’t take too long to readjust. Once you were fully seated, you rested your palms on his chest, beginning to move.
You switched between rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock. When you’d get tired, you’d lean back and let him chase his own pleasure, all the while, mumbling in his mother tongue.
“No, no.” You babbled, leaning forward and halting your motions. He cursed, but you remained still. “Let me hear you.”
Aemond called your name like he was praying; like he was begging for one of the Seven to hear him. He tried to move your hips himself, but you tore his hands off you, pinning them on each side of his head.
“When I move, you move.” You hissed, then said the next words slowly. “Let me hear you.”
He sucked in each breath, collecting himself before uttering. “Dīnilūks.”
Of course, it was something you didn’t know.
So, you merely kissed along his jaw. “Ñuho glaeso hūrus.”
He grunted when you jolted your hips forward at an uneven pace. Sitting up, Aemond held you against him with no space between you. He thrusted like a madman, sucking on the pulse point in your neck.
“Did-ah!-did I say it right?” You murmured, feeling a coil tighten in your stomach.
“Yes.” He breathed, grasping one of your tits. “Yes!”
A loud knock on the door bounced off the walls of the room, causing a sharp gasp to escape you.
Sylvi said your name. “Open the door, I need you for something.”
You immediately halted your movements, swallowing thickly. Sighing, you went to get off of Aemond, only for him to latch his arm around your hips.
You shook your head. “You know she’ll throw a fit.”
“I don’t care.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Let her hear what I do to you, and I’ll let her hear what she couldn’t do to me.”
With quivering breath, you resumed the movement in your hips, pushing him back down onto the bed. Aemond fucked into you like a wild animal, almost throwing you off balance if not for digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Gods,” he moaned. “ñuha dijītsos, if you could see yourself…”
“I’ll make you-fuck-I’ll make you watch yourself one day.” He took your pearl between his fingers. “Watch how I penetrate you, how I desecrate you.”
Whining, you sped up your thrusts, the slapping of skin and the calling of his name from your lips drowning out anything that was not in the room.
You moved with him as best you could, leaning over him to press your lips to his as one of his hands moved to your backside, pulling you even closer. The sweat of your skin glued you to his chest, your thighs starting to cramp from kneeling.
“Ae-Ae-!” You grunted, feeling the burn both from your growing pleasuring and the pain in your legs.
“Give it to me.” He made a weak attempt to suppress his grunts.
Your orgasm hit you with both the suddenness and intensity of a screaming arrow. Vision blurring, your cries grew sharper as you rode it out, and all the while, Aemond was still thrusting up into your cunt. As you were beginning to come down, he let out a moan from his chest, releasing himself into you.
You collapsed fully onto him, it being your heavy breathing now harmonizing instead of your groans.
“What-what did you call me?” You kissed his heart. “I’m your dijistos?”
“Dijītsos.” He corrected, running his hand up your back. “You’re my little desire; although, the word is much cruder than that.”
You both stayed like that for less than you wanted to; again, the knocking on the door disturbing your peace. Sitting up, you pulled yourself off of him, hissing from the pain in your legs.
Aemond sat up. “I’ll get it.”
“No.” You grabbed his arm. “Just put my dress on. I have to look somewhat presentable.”
He reached down, grabbing the thin dress you always wore for your jobs. You placed your arms above your head as he slipped your dress over you.
“You know,” you began. “if I had it my way, I would say we should hide under the covers like children and pretend the rest of the world does not exist.”
Humming, he kissed your clavicle. “Perhaps one day we shall.”
You gritted your teeth once you got up, only then feeling Aemond’s spent travel down your leg. Still, you were high from the overall activity. Which is why you slammed the door open to greet Sylvi as if she still favored you.
“Ah, what a pleasant surprise!” You cheered. “What can I do for you, Madame?”
Her nostrils flared for a moment until she forced herself to relax. “Well, at least you look the part.” She shoved an empty jug into your arms. “Chansey found a man for you to seduce.”
You stared at her before chuckling. “I already did one an hour ago.”
“Two hours ago. This one is actually wealthy. Stupid too, so it shouldn’t be hard for you.”
Sighing, you knew there wasn’t any other way to get out of it. Yes, there was the Prince Regent behind you, but he didn’t seem to want to intrude for some reason. You foolishly shrugged it off.
“Okay, just let me pretty myself-.”
“-Please,” she interrupted, “he’s not looking for an innocent maiden. He’s looking for another warm place to put his cock.”
And she left you standing in the doorway. You glanced into the jug and saw your sheathed knife visible, along with a red ribbon, Sighing, you sat down against the wall and reached in to grab them. You soon felt a hand on your shoulder.
“Do you need help?” Aemond asked, crouching in front of you.
“Sure.” you sighed, hiking up your dress and laying your knife against your thigh. You held the ribbon up to him. “Tie it, please.”
He double knotted the ribbon, placing a kiss to your knee when he was finished. “I shall be here when you come back.”
You scoffed. “It’s getting late. Won’t the council be worried about where the Prince Regent is?”
“Precisely because I am, I choose to stay here. Do not keep me waiting.”
Kissing his cheek, you wished him farewell before rushing down the stairs and past all the couples and groups, pleasuring themselves with a newfound vigor.
The night felt a little darker that night. You didn’t know the exact time, but it wasn’t exactly the darkest hour of night you had gone out; at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. It was more likely you were growing tired and weary from exhausting prior activity as you trudged through the slim paths of King’s Landing.
You still managed to find the man you were meant to be looking for; stumbling around as if it was the first time he was ever drunk. With a sigh, you began to sing the same song, walking in the direction of the well you have come to know for years.
It wasn’t just your body that was weak; it was your voice. That night wasn’t the nicest you sounded, but it had got the job done. Sylvi had been right: It was easy.
Just with from the sight of your blade gleaming in the moonlight, the man cowered like a child, tossing a hefty sack at you.
You didn’t even touch him.
So, with a skip in your step, you rushed back to the pleasure house. You dropped off the money in Sylvi’s room and attempted to make yourself more presentable for Aemond. That being dropping one of the straps off your shoulder; there wasn’t much more you could do. With a smile on your face as you reached the door, you grabbed the handle and pushed it open.
There was a man in the room; a man that wasn’t Aemond.
His grin was hideous, in fact, his entire self was. The look in his eyes as they ran over your body caused you to shrivel like a leaf. If it were any other night that you had found a stranger in a bedroom, you would’ve known exactly what to do.
Yet, tonight you were expecting your lover to be there; and he was nowhere to be seen.
“You have the wrong room, ser.” You deepened your voice.
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t.”
How did he know your name?
“You’re not meant to be here.” You attempted to sound forceful, but instead, your voice wavered when he approached you. “I suggest you leave before the man I am expecting-.”
“-Comes back?” He interrupted. “The Prince Regent? Is that whom you speak of?”
Swallowing thickly, he was standing so close you could finally see him better. It was the same man that followed you as you were bleeding out; the man that left only when you stumbled upon Sylvi and Aemond.
You reached between your legs and whipped the knife out from under your dress. Unsheathing it once it was out, you dove the blade to his torso. He caught it as the tip reached his clothing.
“Who do you think told me to be here?” He taunted, squeezing your wrist.
Your foot met his shin, and he stumbled backwards, loosening his grip. With a yell, you rose your hand again and slashed his arm. He hissed, and you made the mistake of looking into his eyes. A fury you had never seen before washed over them.
He grabbed your wrist again, twisting it this time. A horrible crack was heard, and a cry ripped through your throat as you collapsed to your knees, dropping the knife. Gripping your hair, he forced you back to your feet before tossing you into the wall.
Falling onto your side after colliding with the wall, all of the wind had been knocked out of you. Just as you took a breath in, the man landed a kick to your ribs. He picked his foot up as you cried and kicked again.
As he tried to do so a third time, you released a growl, crawling to the knife on the floor. He picked it up just as it was in reach.
“How does a silly little cunt like you know how to use this? Woman at the Well?” He questioned, setting the blade on the bed.
You got to your knees despite how your body stung, and only was able to place one foot on the ground before his knuckles met your nose.
He snickered as you laid on your back, breathing unstable. “It’s not your style to give up, isn’t it?”
The man got onto his knees, essentially straddling you. He brushed his hand over your face, and little whines left your bloodied lips as you tried to push him away.
“Gods,” he sighed, moving one of the thin straps down your shoulder, exposing your breast to him.
“Stop.” You sniffled. “Please, stop!”
Wrapping his arms around your aching body, he brought your lips up to his and kissed you like you had never been kissed before. It was violent; hands tearing and grasping your dress, teeth dug into your flesh.
You placed your hands upon his cheeks, attempting to respond with the same vigor. You pulled your lips away, pressing them to his cheek, then traveling downwards.
You lingered there, forcing out little noises of pleasure when his hand traveled up your thigh, dancing closer and closer to your center.
That was when you sunk your teeth into his throat. For just a moment of euphoria, he thought it was a love bite.
Then, an involuntary scream left his mouth.
Blood colored your teeth red as you bit into his skin until each little strand of flesh was torn off from his neck. He’d let go of you long ago, and you landed on your back from the force of pulling yourself away.
You watched as he crawled backwards, hand on his neck as he groaned out in agony. The adrenaline made it to your legs, letting you stand effortlessly. As if you were a spectator of your own body, you watched yourself spitting his own throat onto him, before picking the knife off of the bed.
Kneeling over his body, you jammed the blade into his neck.
Red painted your body and dress like it was a canvas. It was almost impossible to find the color of your own skin when you were finished.
It was exhaustion that forced you to stop. You didn’t know what silence truly was until you did. You didn’t know when he stopped screaming, or when he had stopped breathing. When you were forced to sit down and catch your breath, did you only then realize you were alone.
You tasted blood and tears on your tongue as you whaled, your hands shaking so horribly the knife dropped without you knowing. The rest of your body slid to the floor, crying into the creaking wood.
As a puddle formed underneath you, you brought your head up, and something shimmered in your sight. Rubbing your eyes, you looked again, and saw something shine under the bed.
Crawling with what little strength you had, you reached for it, clutching something smooth with somewhat of a rough texture. Your breath stilled when you brought it out into the light.
Aemond's sapphire. The one that was in his eye and lost for weeks...under the bed the whole time.
You clutched the sapphire in your hand, snapping your head up at the voice. Once you saw Sylvi, wide-eyed and mouth hung open, you wept.
She dropped to her knees, taking off her shawl and wrapping it around you. She shushed you, caging you in her arms and pressing kisses on your face.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She soothed as you tried to fight out of her hold. “You’re okay, I’m here.”
You finally gave into her embrace, tears and blood coating her neck as you buried yourself into it. She kissed your messy hair, squeezing you tighter and tighter until you squealed.
Sylvi loosened her hold. “I’m sorry. Sweetie, what happened?”
You blubbered your response. In your mind, you were forming words, but your mouth was doing otherwise. You had said something of ‘Aemond’ at some point, and that was when she spoke up.
“Aemond?” She repeated, and you nodded. Her eyes had grown impossibly larger than when she had first seen you and the man’s body. She said your name gently. “Gods above…I saw him leave and speak with another man but I-I hadn’t thought he…I’m so sorry.”
“He-he said he would,” you stammered out. “he said…”
He would wait for you to come back.
That was what he told you.
“I’m sorry.” Sylvi lamented, hugging you again.
You pulled away from her. “I-I want to go home.”
“Let me just get the healers to check you-.”
“-Mama,” you shivered. “she-she’s home by now.”
Sylvi took a quaking breath, saying your name again.
“I-I’ve never been out this late,” you forced yourself to stand. “I don’t want to worry her or-or Gigi.”
“You shouldn’t be walking right now.” She followed after you.
Everything was abnormal after she said that. You could hear her saying words, but your mind wasn’t letting you process what any of them meant. You stumbled your way down the stairs and out of the pleasure house; no one had stopped you.
It was as if you were a babe again: learning to walk, and all the words around you were nothing more than babbles and strange sounds.
And no one had bothered you that night. You realize now that you were either extraordinarily lucky, or the Seven do exist.
When you made it back to your house, you hobbled in through the door and the living room; trying your best not to make a sound.
You thought about going into your mother’s bedroom, not minding the fact you would have to sleep in between her and Gigi…but your hand stained the door with blood once you touched it.
No, you weren’t going to dirty the bed; you and your mother had just cleaned the sheets. She’d be mad at you.
You tiptoed into your room, shut the door, and collapsed into your childhood bed.
The sapphire you had forgotten about dropped from your hand and onto the floor, but you didn't even hear it fall.
If you woke up tomorrow, than this was all just a bad dream.
No, this ISN'T the last part, I just overestimated how much I'd write and wanted to scare the shit out of you guys.
Also, you may be wondering: WTF is the timeline?
Gimin, gimin. Lykirī. Lykirī: “I know, I know. Be calm, be calm.”
Aōla renigon?: "Do you feel me?"
Skorkydoso glaesā?: “How are you?”
Sȳz iksan, kirimvose. Se ao?: “I am fine, thank you. And you?”
Syrī tosh ao?: “I'm with you?”
Ñuho glaeso hūrus: “Moon of my life.”
Ñuha dijītsos: “My little desire.”
