Chapter Text
When you first came to King’s Landing as a young maiden, you didn’t expect much out of your stay – it was meant to be brief, and your parents had hoped that you would next return to Storm’s End betrothed. It was your duty as a high-born woman. Though your house is noble, much of its influence had been lost in the years subsequent to the ascent of Aegon the Conqueror, and you needed to secure a good match for its livelihood.
When your parents first received a letter from the Targaryen Family, inviting your household to to stay at the Red Keep during the Summer Solstice Festival, a religious holiday in the Faith of the Seven, your father had instructed you to attend with your mother and one of your elder brothers, Steffon. The pair would serve as your liaison between potential suitors, and this irritated you greatly. Independent in spirit, you could not reconcile the fact that your insufferable git of a brother, only a few years elder to you, gets to determine the path of your life, purely on the basis of his sex. Yet, here you were, en route to the capitol, trying to summon your optimism in bleak circumstances.
Part of a large family of fifteen, you were next in line to be wed, and truly, you were grateful that you have managed to escape the life of becoming a child bride. You truly are the epitome of a middle child, only occasionally remembered, and when you were needed, you could be found in the household library, your head firmly affixed to a book. You are of a reserved nature, found far from the center of affairs, and from a minor house, which is why everyone found it surprising that Queen Alicent had taken notice of you, most of all yourself.
“My Queen,” you bowed towards the famed pious woman, as you greeted her with your mother and brother at the entrance of the Royal Hall. It has been a little of a week since your arrival to King’s Landing, and you had little to show for it, much to the dismay of your chaperones. It was almost the mid-point mark of the celebration, and in honour of the Summer Solstice, a ball was being hosted. Ironically, it was Steffon who has garnered the most interest with regards to marriage, and you have slowly begun to prepare yourself with the life of being a spinster. It couldn’t be so bad, perhaps you could train to become a midwife, or whatever occupation you could find. In a way, you wish you could do just that, forge your own way in life, and create one that is truly your own. But you know that is just fantasy, and that if you are unable to return engaged, your parents would likely just arrange a partnership with the first possible suitor. Nevertheless, this was a harmless fantasy that you let yourself divulge into, which in all fairness, was not frequent, as you were more often than not, reading. The Red Keep’s library was your favourite place in the world, you had decided, as you know that their collection would keep you occupied beyond your lifetime, and when you were not there, you were found at the Royal Gardens, reading. Unrealised to you, this had earned you a reputation as a book worm, and had attracted the attention of the Queen.
“I must say, I am quite surprised, this is the first I have seen of you since your arrival, without a book at hand.” The fair woman spoke, next to her fair-haired children, observing the fair.
Unbeknownst to you or your family, this was the first light-hearted comment the Queen had spoken that evening. She had been an awful mood due to the unsurprising absence of King Aegon II from yet another Festival event, which was preluded with a heated argument regarding the utility of wasting treasury funds for religious events, at least that was the position of the ill King, much to the dismay of his young mother, a devout follower of the Faith.
This shift in mood had surprised the one-eyed Prince Aemond, who had otherwise been detached from affairs of the evening, by that point. He truly did not give a shit about inconsequential matters, such as balls where fat old men drunk themselves into oblivion, and naïve young women armed themselves with false flatteries, in hopes of wooing some nobleman, all while their duplicitous guardians manipulated these affairs.
However, this moment had intrigued Prince Aemond. For one, you were a foreign face, and as was your name, as introduced by your older brother. But more importantly, you were someone who had caught the attention of his mother, a woman who did not care for court social life in the slightest, unless for political purpose.
You tactfully maneuvered the conversation, deflecting attention from yourself whilst politely responding to the Queen. Thanking her for the invitation whilst leisurely bowing, Aemond could not help but notice how pleasing you appeared in that position, with your flushed cheeks and full chest on display. As you disappeared into the crowd, Aemond took mental note of you and your house, as well as the dress you were wearing, a deep crimson frock which accentuated your golden skin and glistening décolleté. It definitely was a satisfying display, and his interest had been piqued.
You had found the entire Targaryen family handsome, and each time you see them, you are always taken aback by their beauty. Queen Helaena could have been a Goddess, and all of the Princes in attendance had an unworldly quality to them. You could almost understand in a way why it was their dynasty that managed to ‘unite’ the Seven Kingdoms. Almost. However, you knew better, and it was not their beauty, but violence, fire and bloodshed that had chained the Kingdom together. And you were unsure of whether that was a good thing.
As the evening progressed, you slowly started blending into the background. A few dances with unmemorable men to appease your mother, and a waiting game until your brother was too intoxicated to remember your existence. You had brief conversations with suitors, monitored by your kind, yet stern mother, and you knew that any arrangement would ultimately be managed by her.
You were never good at maintaining conversations with peers, and found that you over-thought spoken exchanges too much. You preferred avoiding such internal conflict, and predictably grew weary of the ball, as you chose to not even interact with any of the other ladies in attendance. Though you knew it was unwise to be alone as a maiden, you decided that you were in need of fresh air and opted to go to the nearest vacant balcony, with a goblet of cherry wine at hand, whilst trying to hide from your observant mother. While leaving, you expected that no one would take notice of you. The one-eyed Prince, who had distantly observed you since the beginning of the night, giving you more glances than he should have, saw opportunity. Satisfied with this development, he stealthily followed you, keeping a considerable distance.
The Red Keep was a maze, and while you stumbled across many people, most were intoxicated and took no notice of you. You were a lady on a mission, and were in desperate need of fresh air. After an eternity wandering, regretting not finding the courage to ask one of the many knights you crossed paths with, you finally found refuge in a large empty balcony. As you approached the railing, setting down your sleeved arms against it, you took in a deep breath of fresh air, or rather air that is as fresh as it could be in King’s Landing suffocating weather. Your momentary peace however was disrupted, as a deep male voice echoed behind you, startling you.
“Like a little lamb on your own, are you not afraid of being taken advantage of?”
You immediately jumped around, and a small distance in front of you was the wayward Prince Aemond, known throughout the land for his coldness and unspoken cruelty; the kinslayer, and since the war, this reputation has only cemented further. Immediately, the image of the Prince riding his infamous dragon, burning down cities and armies came to mind. You could almost hear the screaming in your head. You truly were afraid, but you were also stubborn, and refused to be intimidated by anyone, including a Prince.
Taking a quick breath, you cocked your head while responding, forcing a smile. You hoped this could be interpreted as charming.
“Do I have anything to be afraid of?” You spoke, in a soft voice.
His violet eye was sharp, staring at you, and in the darkness, dilated. His expression was stiff, and he did not return your smile, his jaw remaining tight. Despite appearances, you did feel incredibly intimidated, but hoped that the Prince had not noticed your false bravado. There was a momentary silence, and you forced your smile to remain, while staring back. A fresh breeze past the two of you.
“I suppose not,” Aemond spoke after what felt like an eternity to you.
Keeping a small distance, he joined you, leaning against the railway, still staring at you. The silence continued, except that it felt deafening to you, thanks to your heartbeat. Aemond enjoyed watching you squirm. It was entertaining to him, your reaction, and it was not as he expected. Most women are afraid and flee, or throw themselves at him, yet here you were, doing neither. And Aemond did not like being unexpecting of others.
Finally breaking eye contact, you turned back around, staring at King’s Landing, while nervously cupping your goblet, still filled. You were not ready to break the silence, and to be frank, you were unsure of what was happening. How is it that you managed to find yourself alone with the likes of him? Why were you not more cautious and why did you have to leave on your own? This was a precarious situation, and you knew that it was better for you to be silent, so as to not offend the Prince, which in all likelihood, you would still manage to do regardless. And even if you had not managed to, you were not only afraid of him, but also that someone will inevitably find you two alone together. The soiling of your reputation felt inevitable now, and the prospect continued to frighten you. You start to fiddle with your goblet, now staring down at it, until a sudden movement catches you by surprise.
Swiftly, Aemond grasped the wine, chugging it effortlessly before tossing it aside, the glass shattering absorbed by the noisy environment of the celebration and the city sound. Frozen, you widened your eyes, and your mouth gapes open.
The Prince was attempting baiting you into breaking the silence, yet here you were, still hushed. Stepping closer, the Prince grazed a hand against your flushed cheeks and jawline, and now you start to violently tremble.
“So you are indeed afraid,” Aemond now smiled as he spoke, and you could not help but notice a wickedness behind it. Your false confidence had crumbled, and you felt like you were sweating profusely. Prince Aemond still continued to caress your face gently, with his rough hands, which felt cool against your boiling skin. His face was now a breath away, and his voice lowered as he spoke.
“I don’t mind though. In fact, I do believe some fear is healthy, helps people know their place” the Targaryen pauses for a moment, his fingers now exploring your lips. At this, you jerk and you bite down, hard. If it hurt, the Prince did not show his reaction, but merely jumped and glanced at his index and middle finger, which against the moonlight had a crimson glisten. Though this happened on impulse, you were in a state of shock for a moment, staring at the Prince’s hand.
When you realised how fucked you were, you tried to sprint, but failed to, as a hand shot up against your throat tightly.
“No. Behave.” Aemond drawled out slowly, his face touching yours’s. You could smell the wine in his breath, and there was rabid look in his eye. Though you felt faint, and you thought your voice would fail you. Luckily, you felt a survival instinct rush through you. You never doubted that the Prince was dangerous, but at that moment, you truly felt at peril.
Looking at his violet eye, you spoke back, your voice throaty due to the constriction. You also gently wrap your hands around his right hand, in hope that he may release it. Tears began escaping your eyes, and they slid down to Aemond’s hand. As they did, his smile only grew more fervent, and his eye become completely dilated.
“Why should I?” You weakly respond. Your mind was blank, and you had no clue what to say.
“That is an odd apology.” The Prince responded back, grinning. “I am sorry, my Prince. I am sorry for harming you.” He says mockingly.
“You do not want an apology.” You say. Tears continue streaming, though slower now.
“I don’t? Then pray tell, what do I want? I did not realise that you knew me so well, little lamb.” You did not miss the demeaning nickname, spoken with a mocking tone.
“No. You want to control me, that is what you men always want.”
Aemond smiled cruelly, lowering his gaze. “Us men, huh? You sure do seem well acquainted with the wants of men.”
The Prince’s implication was deafening, and his other hand suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, firmly but not painfully. You felt ashamed, and angry that the Prince had made you felt this way. Taking many rapid shallow breaths, you spoke harshly.
“You are vile and cruel.” Your hands now try to push against his chest, but fail. “If you intend to violate me, just do it already. Were you not taught by your Queen mother to not play with your food.”
At the mention of his mother, Aemond smile dropped, and so did his hand from your throat. The mention of Queen Alicent had broken his fervent fantasy, and he was brought back to reality. He was grateful that he had planted a knight to monitor the door and ensure no interruption, but he was not prepared to end his folly so promptly. The Prince had enjoyed this little game, and the most fun he has had in a long while, at least since the war ended with the demise of his not so dear half-sister and other kin. Yes, he was not ready for the folly to end just yet, and you had proven to be very entertaining indeed.
Though with one of his arms still around you, Aemond slightly distanced himself, and ran his free hand through your hair, as if you were a pet. Your brown hair was soft, and Aemond loved how he could sense a sweet earthy scent from it. You jump at this, and try to shove his hand away, but suddenly realise that they are clasped behind you, against your waist.
“You will not be violated, you are a noblewoman after all,” he says cryptically, smiling. “And why would I, when I prefer my women to submit on their own accord.”
“I am not yours.” You respond, your voice high and indignant.
With a mean laugh, Aemond responds. “Well-read people are supposed to be clever, are they not? Because you seem to misunderstand your position.” The Prince pulls you in crushingly, and now, you feel like you cannot breathe.
“Though you are a noble lady, I am a Prince.” He says sharply, every breath like a dagger slashing against the air. “By birthright, I can do as I please, and if I decide that you are mine, there is little you can do.”
“But as I said, I am not yours.”
Smirking, Aemond let you go. You were upset and angry, blinded by your emotion, and Aemond lived for your stubbornness. It drove him mad, in the best way possible.
“We’ll see about that.”
With that, the young Prince left, and as soon as you were alone, you crumbled onto the ground, hysterically upset and ventilating. After what felt like an eternity, a hand gently touched your shoulder, which scared you, causing you to scream.
Looking up, a knight profusely apologised. “My Lady, I sincerely apologise. Please do not be frightened.” You back yourself against the balcony railing, crawling away from him.
“Please, let me escort you to your quarters.” He says, keeping his distance. You were unsure whether you could trust him, and stared at him wide-eyed, trembling and hiccuping. Though the knight felt sympathy towards you, he had to follow orders, as it was his head on the line, not yours.
“Please. I have been instructed by Prince Aemond to do so.”
At this, you panic completely, and wrap your arms around yourself, beginning to shiver even more profusely. You feel frozen in place, and feel incredibly faint. Closing your eyes, you try to will away this nightmare of an evening. For a moment, you believe it to be a dream, and you wonder whether actually it was, as your consciousness escapes you. In the background, you hear some voices and a heavy sigh, and you feel yourself carried away. You are unable to distinguish reality, and as you toss, you are met with a strong chest and shushing.
When you wake, you feel incredibly congested. It takes a few moments for your blurry vision to clear, and as you look around, you are relieved to be in your guest chambers at the Keep. That was truly one awful nightmare. Your head is pounding, and you come to the conclusion that you must avoid wine. It affects you too much, evidently.
You see that you are still dressed in last night’s attire, and go to your bedroom’s private lavatory to refresh and prepare yourself for the day ahead. You put on a cream silk gown, light for the humid daytime weather. What is on today’s itinerary? Better to confirm with mother.
As you stroll into the modest living area, you are shocked to see Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena, sat with your mother, having tea. Your brother, who is normally noisy as an elephant, is absent from the room.
“And she finally wakes.” Your mother dramatically states, though you can hear a masked tightness in her tone.
You immediately bow before the Queens, very low, greeting everyone in the room, hoping that your shock is not visible, and that they take no offense. You are confused about what was happening entirely, until you remember your nightmare. Not a nightmare? Your heart begins to race.
“Please, sit.” A song-like voice speaks, and you realise that it is Queen Helaena who spoke, her voice mesmerising. You felt enchanted, and found yourself seated without second thought. You smile nervously, feeling inadequate next to such a beautiful person like her.
Despite your aloofness, Helaena launches into conversation, talking about how glad we found ourselves in attendance of the Summer Solstice Festival. Snapping yourself to sense, you attempt to begin conversation, understanding the importance of having the Queens in your company. Well versed in the Faith of the Seven and its history, you proceed to begin conversation about the theological origins of the Festival, and how it all began with followers committing sacrifices and offerings to the Mother Above, in hopes of prosperous harvests. “We soon understood the grander the offerings and showcases, the more blessed are the blessings.” The young Queen completely enraptured as you spoke, which relieved Alicent. Yes, my Aemond was correct. This would be ideal, the Queen thought.
In a kind, yet commandeering voice, Queen Alicent spoke as you finished. “I do not mean to deviate, sweet child. We were just speaking about this with your mother earlier, prior to your wake.”
The Queen took hold of your hands with two of hers, smiling whilst maintaining firm eye contact with you. It felt very familiar and comforting. In the corner of your eye, you see your mother’s face, and realise that there is fear in her. This spikes your anxiety.
“My dear, you are exactly the type of lady my dear Helaena needs as a companion. How do you feel about prolonging your stay at King’s Landing?”
Queen Alicent framed the proposal as a question, but you know that this is far from a request. You sincerely wish it had been, as right now, you recognise the danger ahead of you, yet again.
Taking a deep breath and summoning your voice, you respond, with fabricated joy.
“It would be an honour, my Queens.”