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Aemond didn’t know what he was doing there. How many courtesans, knights, guards, his own brother even, had stood outside this door. Begging for entrance, a chance to touch the woman who lived within. And here he was, a prince, nervous like a first-time squire, staring down the door of a silly court jester whose face he’d never even seen properly. It didn't matter. She could be hideous. Scarred like him, a monster, and he would still be standing there, hoping beyond hope that she would let him in when others were turned away. Aemond raised his fist to knock. What was he doing? They had their fun. Dark corridors and hidden alcoves, but this was different. Personal. He’d never invited her into his chambers before, and she certainly hadn't asked, but here he was, hesitant to cross that line. He flattened his hand, feeling the wood grain against his palm, and sighed.
“I can hear you breathing, the door is open.”
Aemond jumped at the sound of her voice. He pressed his hand forward, and the heavy door swung open to a small room, furnishings cosy, decorated with trinkets, tapestries, and bright colors. The window was open, letting the cool night air in, the bright stars shining into the dim room. Candles lay scattered about, reflecting on the copper of the bathtub, placed near the fire.
“It's not safe to keep your door unlocked, anyone could enter.” Aemond said, noticing that she was unwinding for the night. She was still painted and costumed, but the makeup was smudged from the day of wear, her feet were bare, and the ruffled collar she so often wore lay discarded on the chair beside the bathtub. The bathtub she was very obviously currently warming. His brain paused at the thought of her bathing. Water trailing down between her breasts, how smooth the skin of her thighs would feel, the paint running down her face.
“Well I guess I’m lucky you stumbled in here first, my Prince.” She said, accompanied by her usual, sly bow. Aemond couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips. He moved forward, moving the collar off the chair and slowly lowering himself into it.
“Oh, did you come for a show? It’s a little late for that but I'm sure you'd like to see my next trick.” The jester taunted, moving her hips in a way that caused Aemond to stop breathing.
“I came- I came here for- I-” Aemond stuttered out, unsure of his actual reasoning, unsure of anything he’d ever said or done. She walked over to him, stopping in between his spread legs and gently placing her hands on his shoulders to silence him.
“I’m only teasing, you are very welcome here.”
Aemond let out a shaky breath as he trailed his fingertips up her thighs. She shivered at his touch, and he grabbed at the meat of her ass to pull her closer. Leaning in, he lay his cheek across her stomach, his head nestled into the underside of her breasts.
“What do you look like under all that paint?” Aemond couldn't look at her when he asked, but he had to know. She snorted, and he felt it against his face. She slid her hands up into his hair, gently combing her fingers through the silky locks.
“Seems like a silly question for you to ask,” The jester spoke softly, “I could ask you a similar question.” She leaned back, attempting to gauge the reaction on his features. Aemond wrapped his arms tightly around her, and turned to press his forehead against her sternum. She sighed, and continued stroking his head, fiddling with the dark strap of leather he seemed so fond of wearing.
“Would- would you like to see? What I look like, I mean.”
The question caused Aemond to pause. Since he’d known her, she had teased him, taunted him, moaned for him, but never had she sounded so unsure of her words. He sat back in the chair, keeping a firm hold on her waist as he looked up into her gleaming eyes. He’d only ever known her to have a face of stark white, dark around her eyes, bright cheeks, and red lips. Lips he hand on many occasions thought of, deep into the night. Would the crimson paint stain them? Were they softer without the greasy ink over them? Aemond wanted to know, needed to know, more than he had ever needed anything in his life. He nodded, unable to form the words he desperately wanted to say. Her smile was worth his inner turmoil, though he did not particularly like that she stepped away then, out of his arms.
“What are you-” Aemond started, but as she turned toward the bath, it dawned on him that interrupting her actions wasn’t in his best interest. He sat back, eyes wide, as she poured scented oils into the steaming water. Lavender, mint, and something he couldn't place. He couldn't take his eye off of her, the way her skin glowed in the candlelight, her smooth movement. Aemond’s brain stopped entirely when she reached up to the cap on her head. He healed his breath as she unclasped it at the back of her neck, gently pulling it over her head as the bells jingled. He'd never seen her hair, so when it tumbled out of her cap, messy from a day stuffed in the hood, he reached forward, running his fingertips through the ends. She turned her head at his movement and smiled softly at him.
The jester kept her eyes on him as she reached for the back of her costume, unbuttoning the many (too many) buttons down her back. Aemond stood then, brushing her hands away to use his dexterous fingers to remove her wrinkled costume. He made a mental note to find a seamstress in King’s Landing able to create a costume for her without so many clasps. It was worth it however, when he reached the last button, and she whimpered at the cool touch of his fingers on her lower spine.
As the fabric slid down her body, Aemond sucked in a breath. He’d never seen her so bare before, so naked. It was almost more than he could bear. He wanted to tell her how beautiful he thought she was, how his heart skipped when she looked at him, but his words were gone. All he could do was reach for her, turn her in his arms, and lean down to kiss her painted lips.
Aemond kissed her, soft, gentle. The jester nibbled his bottom lip, and he groaned into her mouth. She leaned in to him, pressing herself against his body and sliding her hands up to his collar. He pulled away, only to help her unfasten his leather doublet and toss it down to the ground. She giggled at the smudges of her makeup around his mouth. He was glad there was no one around to hear him giggle along with her. Aemond Targaryen, giggling. As the laughing died down, they both took each other in. It did not go unnoticed the way her eyes raked up his naked torso, taking in the hard muscles of his chest. Aemond felt himself blush when she met his eye.
“Look at you, rosy cheeks, I would almost think you’d never seen a naked girl before.” The jester teased, running a finger down his cheekbone and winking. She turned then, and stepped into the steaming water. Aemond stood, frozen, unsure of what to do. Hating the feeling of being unsure what to do.
“Well, aren't you coming?”
It was all Aemond needed to hear before frantically undoing his belt, dropping his trousers down his long legs and stepping toward the tub. The jester reached out, placing her hands on his chest, gently trailing them down as she sank in the tub. He leaned his head back for a moment, saying a quick prayer to any of the gods listening to thank them for their generosity before following her into the bath.
He stepped behind her, kneeling down into the steaming water to pull her against him. The jester laughed as water sloshed over the sides. It was a snug fit, a perfect sized tub for her alone, but tight for the two of them. She slid into his lap, his cock pressing against her warmth as she pressed her thighs to the outsides of his hips. He helped her up, gripping the fat of her hips to pull her to him until her breasts pressed to his hard chest. She let out a breath as they came nose to nose.
Aemond reached an arm out, grasping for the cloth alongside the tub without breaking the connection of their gaze. He slapped around, knocking over a cake of soap in the process. She laughed, pressing her forehead to his chest before raising up on her knees to reach over the rim of the bath. He pulled her back once she had the cloth in her hand.
“Let me, please.” Aemond spoke softly, pulling the cloth from her hand and dunking it into the warm water. She stilled as he reached for her face, using every ounce of tenderness in his body to wipe the white greasy paint from her cheek. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her fresh, bare skin.
He continued on, dunking and rubbing until all that was left was a dark ring around the edges of her eyes, and a pinkish stain on her lips. Her lips, which were nothing like he imagined. Better, softer, fuller, so kissable that he wondered for a moment why she would ever cover them.
He did understand though.
Why would someone cover themselves, keeping others from seeing their true selves. He dropped the cloth outside of the tub, leaning back to get a good look at her. She was so, so, so beautiful. The angle of her nose, the fullness of her cheeks, her bright eyes, looking at him with that unsure questioning he so rarely saw in her. Surely she must know what she looks like, the very image of the Maiden sat in his lap. He laughed, a bright, joyful sound that so few had heard, before leaning forward and grabbing her.
She let out a startled gasp as he pulled her to his lips, forceful, teeth clashing, tongues sliding together. His hands were everywhere, sliding up her back, twisting in her hair, gripping her ass. She happily obliged, gripping his face in her hands and holding on for dear life. He groaned as she ground down against his hard cock. He didn't think he’d ever been so hard in his life, not even when he’d been with her before. This was different. The intimacy of being in her space, seeing her, all of her, made him greedy in ways he didn’t understand.
“You are the most bewitching creature I have ever seen.” Aemond managed to get out against her lips. She smiled into their next kiss.
“Enchanting.”
Aemond kissed her again.
“So beautiful I don’t know how I will be able to stand it.”
She slid her lips up his jaw to his ear, sucking on the lobe before kissing behind it, trailing down the column of his neck. He leaned his head back, allowing her more access as she sucked a bruise into his flesh. He didn’t care if there was a mark the next day, if the whole keep- no, the whole of King’s Landing- knew what she did to him. He was pulled back into reality when he felt her fingers toying with the leather strap holding his eyepatch in place.
“Are you alright?” The jester said, almost a whisper.
Fuck. He’d messed it up, messed everything up. His sharp intake of breath would forever mark him as weak, unable to handle the dexterity of one silly court fool’s fingertips. He nodded, gripping her hips in his hands as he squeezed his eye shut.
“It's alright, oh it's alright.” The jester said, sliding her hands down to his shoulders.
“Please, I’m sorry, I won’t push you, I just wanted to see.” She rubbed his shoulders, up his arms, anywhere she could touch.
“Look at me, please, Aemond.”
Aemond snapped his eyes open, and the jester jumped back in surprise. He stifled a groan as her cunt slid down his length. He reached up, dripping hand gripping her face, while his other hand lifted to his hair. He fumbled for the clasp, searching her eyes for any sign of repulsion. The patch fell.
“Oh.” The jester whispered softly. Aemond’s world came crashing down. His face, for so long he had kept hidden. Hidden from his niece and nephew so as not to scare the children, hidden from the knights and guards, who he knew snickered at him behind his back, hidden from the ladies of court, so as not to frighten any tender dispositions. Now he was bare, bare for the one person in King’s Landing whose opinion might actually mean something to him.
Gently, so gently, she slid her hands up to cup his cheeks. Slowly she moved forward. Every muscle in his body tensed as she tenderly kissed the scar above his eye, then below.
“Aemond, my dear Prince Aemond, what did they do to you?”
She kissed him again then, pressing soft kisses all over his face. His jaw, forehead, eyelids, nothing left unkissed. Her lashes tickled his cheeks, and his arms came around her to cage her to him. Their foreheads pressed together, sharing air between them.
“What have you done to me?” Aemond breathed out. She laughed softly, and he brought his hand up to cradle the back of her head, pulling her into a searing kiss. She moaned into his mouth, writing in his lap and causing his cock to slide through her folds. Somehow in his dread he had forgotten the very beautiful, and very naked, woman essentially sitting on his cock.
It was Aemond’s turn to kiss her all over. Her lips, her jaw, down her neck to her clavicle.
“Please, I can’t have any marks, people might see!” The jester giggled out. Aemond smiled against her sternum and gave her a playful bite.
“You just put a bruise on your Prince’s neck, what do you think the punishment is for that?”
Before she could come up with a quippy remark, Aemond had his lips around a hard nipple. Any taunting she had came out as a deep moan, arching her back to press more of her chest to his hungry lips. He pressed a large hand flat to her back, pulling her firmly to him. His other hand reached for her other tit, gripping it harshly before rolling the taut nipple between his fingers. He pulled his lips away, blowing cool air onto her wet nipple and making her squirm against him. He then switched to the other, licking and sucking while toying with the first in his long fingers, switching between pinching her nipple and squeezing her breast.
The jester was a mess in his lap. Moaning and panting, wetness mixing with the cooling bathwater. He slid a hand down to her clit, roughly massaging the aching nub with his fingers. She cried out, gripping his hair, holding his mouth firmly to her nipples. Her body shook, and he held on to her as she rode out her high on his fingers. She was breathing heavily by the time his hands slowed.
“That was pretty quick.” Aemond said, smirking against her throat. She lazily hit his chest with her fist.
“I guess I understand why you keep yourself covered up, you're so handsome any woman who laid eyes on you would instantly fall to their knees in ecstasy.” The jester joked, but she was looking at him so fondly it didn’t feel like her usual taunts.
“I guess I’ll have to keep the eye patch, wouldn't want to interrupt any of your performances,” he pinched her ass as he joked back, “How embarrassing would that be.”
She loudly laughed then, and Aemond decided he would do anything in his power to get her to laugh again. Laugh at him. Because of him. As her giggles dyed down, she reached up to his face again, rubbing her thumb against the scar on his cheek.
“Just for me then, yeah?”
Aemond nodded, and it felt like a promise.
His hard manhood was still pressing firmly against her, and he decided it was time to take care of it. Gripping her thighs, he rose out of the cold bath. The jester squealed in protest, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his middle. He looked around for a place to press into her. They were too wet for the bed, water still dripping down his legs. He could bend her over the desk, but he wanted, no needed, to see her face when he came. He settled on pressing her back to the stone wall of the chamber next to the fireplace.
“My, we really do always end up here.” The jester joked. Her amusement was cut short when he reached under her, aligning himself with her entrance and fully sheathing into her warm, gooey heat.
“Oh gods.”
Aemond didn’t think any man, alive or dead, had ever felt the pleasure he did in that moment. The warm heat of her sex wrapped around his cock, her soft body in her arms, the sweet sounds of her bliss in his ear. And those beautiful eyes, looking up at him with such fondness he thought he might come from just the sight.
“How would you like it?” Aemond whispered. “Soft, gentle, like a maiden? Or harder, like some common whore?”
The jester gripped his hair in a tight fist at the name of his neck, and whispered against his ear:
“I want to feel you tomorrow, when I’m dancing for the court, when everyone can see me. I want to feel you, Aemond, please.”
Gods, when she said his name, how wrong it felt, and how right. Aemond held her tightly to the wall, slowly pulling himself out of her until only the tip of his cock remained lodged in her heat. He kissed her, once, before slamming himself back in, to the hilt. The jester screamed, writhing in his firm hold. He took a relentless pace, hammering into her with all the force he had. She gripped his shoulders at the onslaught, moaning and whining at the pace.
“Say my name again,” He growled, “I want any man who passes this door to know what I do to you.”
The jester threw her head back.
“Aemond, oh gods, Aemond please.”
A shiver went down his spine at her words. He needed her to come. He needed to be the only one making her moan like that, the only one who touched her. Aemond rolled his hips against hers, eliciting a sound he’d never heard her make before. He repeated his movements, over and over, trying desperately to pull the sound from her again.
Aemond reached between them, gently rubbing his thumb across her aching clit.
“Come for me, my little harlequin, please I need you to come on my cock.” Aemond managed to groan out. She squeezed her thighs around his hips, tightening her grip on his shoulders as her orgasam ripped through her. She was whining, biting down on his shoulder as he slammed up into her, holding himself there as she finished. He let out an animalistic roar, as he shot hot come into her weeping cunt. They stayed there in the moment together, whimpering against each other's lips as they came down from their highs.
The jester began wiggling against him, the overstimulation becoming too much. Aemond reluctantly slid out of her, warm spend dripping out of her and onto the stone floor. She was breathing heavily, and he held her, snug against the wall. He felt warm tears on his shoulder.
“I have you, oh it's alright, I have you.” Aemond breathed, pulling her from the wall and slowly walking towards her bed. He desperately wanted to be the one who brought her pleasure, but was quickly realizing he wanted more to be the one who brought her comfort. He sat on her too small bed, leaning back against the headboard and sitting her in his lap.
Long fingers stroked up and down the jester’s back as her breathing slowed. Slowly, she leaned back a little to look into his eye. Aemond kept her close, wrapping his arms snugly around her.
“Are- are you alright?” Aemond softly asked. The ends of her lips quirked up as she nodded.
“That was certainly intense.” The jester breathed out. He smiled at her response.
“Are you telling me no one has ever made love to you like that before?” Aemond immediately regretted his wording.
“Made love to me? Who knew the Prince was a secret romantic.” She teased. Aemond imagined his face was a color deeper than her lip paint. He leaned his head back, scrunching his face up at her jab. The jester laughed at him, but leaned forward and pressed her lips against his throat. That certainly got his attention.
“Yes. You are the only one who’s ever done, well, any of that to me.” She whispered against his neck. Aemond couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face as he took her face in his large hands. He kissed her then, soft pressed against her lips, cheeks, anywhere he could. Tasting her salty tears, he gently wrapped her back into his arms, laying down with her and pulling her close. She happily leaned into him, sliding a leg over his hip when he grasped her thigh.
They like that for some time, breathing together. Aemond could feel her rapid heartbeat against his own. He slowly rubbed her back, gently squeezing the back of her neck at the top, and gripping her ass at the bottom. She giggled, grasping his head in her hands and kissing his forehead where his scar began. Aemond shuddered.
“You really are very handsome, you know.”
Aemond shook his head.
“You really are a fool if you believe that.” He whispered. The jester bit her lip, hiding a grin.
“You think I’d let some ugly man into my bed?”
“I am a Prince, that's enough for some women.” Aemond teased. She narrowed her eyes.
“And what women would those be?”
Aemond’s heart skipped a beat at her reaction, and he shook his head.
“There is- there is no one else.”
The jester fought a smile.
“Good. Then you'll be pleased to know rank doesn't matter to me, I've rejected your brother enough times to show that.”
Aemond growled at the mention of his brother, and roughly pulled her closer.
Instead of laughing, at his reaction, she wrapped her arms around Aemond’s neck, pressing her nose into his pale locks.
“You have certainly made a mess of me.” Aemond said, so quiet that she almost missed it despite their closeness.
She gave him a sly smile.
“Oh I’m only just getting started.”
He couldn’t wait to grasp what she had in mind.