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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 7 months

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Ashes Burn: chapter one

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, gore, blood

🔷Summary: Your hometown will soon fall, and you become noticed by the one-eyed Kinslayer who lays siege to it.

🔷Author's note: Dark!Aemond is not something i throw around lightly. It is not something i take lightly as a warning. Just so you know.

🔷Wordcount :7036 (THAT CANT BE RIGHT THATS HUGE)

Warnings below the cut but mind your step!

🔷Warnings: Gore, AABFR, She/her pronouns, murder, warcrimes, mentions of non-con but no descriptions of it, Dubcon (aemondxoc) and overall a very very dark Aemond. Childabuse? (A child gets slapped)

All but ash

The skies have blackened with smoke in the distance. Fires keep the courtyard warm where multiple children and women shelter for the upcoming battle. They hope for a victory. They hope for a happy ending.

You stand on your balcony and overlook the city you were conceived in, born in, and perhaps even will die in: DolkBurg. A small city, almost a village, but not quite, located in the Riverlands.

Your family, the Dawreyn, have been ruling this seat until the beginning of the Seven Kingdoms; perhaps even before that, according to some ancient texts. Yet you are not a full Dawreyn. You are a bastard. Your father is Samwell Dawreyn, but your mother? You wouldn't know.

From the distance, you notice horses riding up to the city gates. That is when you stop watching. You close the door of your balcony and head downstairs.

When you pass halls, men and women alike are preparing for the battle. Servants carry food, supplies, and weapons around in quick passed steps. You see your father and your brother adjusting their armours before going to meet the Greens head-on. And you see Lady Fyona Dawnreyn, who clutches her youngest child, your brother Maas, on her lap. Her eyes are big and full of worry, and she mumbles prayer after prayer.

You ignore her for now, as she would ignore you as usual. ‘’Where are Annalysa and Diandra?’’ You ask your father, Lord Samwell Dawreyn. His heir, your half-brother Karst, is busy sharpening his sword, preparing for battle by slashing down imaginary enemies. You hope the battle ends as good as he imagines it. You doubt it, however. Karst has never seen a real battle. None of you have. Perhaps your father did. But he is old and weak. You would be a fool to deny it.

Your father speaks in an annoyed, snappy tone that betrays that you have outstayed your welcome in his presence already for today. ‘’Annalysa is in her rooms. Diandra is busy preparing her crossbow.’’ He does not even glance at you.

And that kills you faster than any arrow or sword ever would. Diandra has always been very spirited. ‘’Don't tell me she is stupid enough to fight.’’ You huff. Diandra thinks she is the greatest archer who ever lived, but how much damage can one 12 years old do?

Your father turns on his heel, glaring at you. ‘’I'm glad that one of my daughters is doing something useful. Instead of sending good suitors screaming for the hills.’’ You absently touch your scar by your face before glaring at him.

He leans in closer. ‘’We will soon discuss the matter of your future, Y/N. I will no longer have you under my roof. Not when bastards are hunted.’’ You know what he is referring to.

King Aegon II has decided that all bastards holding titles and lands must turn it over to the Crown. You have never heard of a more foolish rule, but you understand why he did so. His nephews are bastards. The rightful queen might be pure of blood, but her children are not.

You would be a risk for your family to keep. You would endanger the life of your siblings. You would endanger everyone here. You would rather stay, but not at the costs of their lives.

Your father leaves the hall with Karst, and you watch the two of them walk outside, to where their horses await them. Karst climbs on the saddle before waving to you, following your shared father.

Diandra, out of breath, chases after them with her bow. ‘’Wait! I can fight!’’ She shouts into the dust and the shadows they leave behind.

You feel sympathy for your youngest sister. You gently lay a hand on her shoulder. ‘’They're men, Di. This war started because they were too shortsighted to see what we women are truly capable of.’’

Di drops her bow defeated. She was born eight years ago. You two are different in so many ways. ‘’I just wish I wasn't a woman. I wish I could…’’She looks wistfully to where the smoke clouds have gotten worse and is gathered above the hills surrounding the city. Even if she was born a man, she would not be able to fight for several years to come.

You take one of her hands and try to drag her away from the gates and back to the safety of your home. ‘’We need to prepare the castle.’’ You tell her with a smile. ‘’It's a great honor and duty to prepare the castle when battle is afoot. We must -’’

A horse lets himself be known. A familiar horse. The majestic creature almost walks right to Diandra, who greets her horse with a pat on his neck. Balyrion, her loyal horse, lowers his head in greeting.

Diandra grabs her bow, walking her horse to the stables where it escaped from...

You turn your back, but keep watching her. In the moments that you do, you see your sister climb on her horse and dash off into the city, to where the warzone becomes closer and closer to the place you call home.

You let out a shriek before grabbing your own horse from the stables, chasing after her in madness and desperation. ‘’Diandra! Come back here!’’ You shout, following the little girl as you avoid villagers and smallfolk alike.

You follow her through the village where the soldiers are holding up near the gates of the city. Two or three laugh when you two approach in your dresses and another scoffs, but you ignore them all.

Diandra has taken position by a crack of the gates. She has leveled her arrows through the hole, ready to impale her target from her horse.

She is aiming.

She is waiting.

You see a man approach the gates. He has dark hair, and you see a terrifying large creature behind him that eclipse the sun. A dragon is waiting back on the hills.

You heard rumors that she is the biggest dragon alive but rumors and seeing her with your own eyes are two different things. ‘’Let's see how easy you can bother villages without your eyes…’’ Diandra mutters, and you see her switch her bow to the man that approaches your town.

You have a split second to act.

So you do.

You tackle her to the ground, slamming the bow out of her hands and throwing your body on hers to protect her.

‘’No!’’ Diandra groans as the arrow misses him by a mere inch. The arrows land in the grass right beside his left feet. The man pauses and takes the arrow from the ground, as if he picks a flower.

He takes out a horn and blows it.

One time.

Two times.

Three times.

You feel an uneasy feeling grow as the little dots in the distance become bigger and bigger, and the army approaches your city.

‘’Are you mad?! He was going to offer us mercy!’’ You shout at Diandra.

She spits in your face before taking her bow back. ‘’There is no mercy from killers. You always were meant to be slave but I sure am not!’’ She shouts.

You don't even give her time to rethink her actions before you hit her across her face. She doubles over and clutches her face furious. She tries to attack you, but you simply step aside, letting her stumble. ‘’You're an idiot. That man came to offer terms. We will all die now!’’ You scream at her.

Two soldiers are needed to keep you both from hurting each other. Your father approaches as his soldiers hold you both apart, clearly disappointed.

‘’Diandra. What are you doing here?’’ You huff a bit. Of course he only cares for her wellbeing.

She has stupid hopeful eyes that fill you with pity. A stupid hopeful girl that never learns that men would never see her as an equal. ‘’I can fight, Father.’’ She speaks, easily freeing herself. She looks at him with big, hopeful eyes. ‘’I almost killed the man! I can fight. Let me fight.’’ She begs.

Your father scoffs, insulted and hurt that you both ruined this mission. This final chance at peace. ‘’You're a woman. Go home. You embarrassed me enough for one day.’’ You feel angry. Isn't he even a tiny bit proud?

You both get onto your horses as the army with the dragon banners reaches the final gate. Within a few mere moments, they have broken through the walls and gates. You watch as Diandra silently cries, tears of rage and broken dreams leaving her eyes… Until you follow her gaze to the open gate.

Diandra understands this is her chance.

And her moment.

Instead of running home, instead of retreating, the girl of 12 summers old, your sister, runs through the open gates into the battlefield.

She takes her crossbow and aims it, but before she can even kill one soldier, she is surrounded. You overhear what she is saying to the soldiers. You show your empty hands to the men who try to stop you. ‘’Please. That's my sister. Show me your honour, and let me try to save her.’’ You beg.

You fear they will kill you on the spot but the man that Diandra tried to kill, the man with the kind brown almost dark and certainly Dornish eyes speaks for you, protecting you. ‘’Very well. We will push the attack, so don't expect to return.’’ He warns you.

You don't listen to him and run past soldiers on foot and horse alike, past slayed soldiers and those who are still moaning in pain to where your sister is surrounded.

You hope you are not too late.

You hope your mission is not in vain. You approach your sister and overhear her insulting the soldiers that keep their weapons aimed at her. ‘’Who leads you, you disgusting pigs? Take me to him!’’ She demands as if this is her army.

You will kill that girl if she gets out of here alive. What is she even thinking? ‘’Diandra!’’ You shout, and she blushes as a little girl being scolded by her mother. A few soldiers turn their heads to you, surprised by your entrance.

The commander escorts you to her. ‘’Pigs, huh?’’ He says dryly. ‘’And who are you, little lady?’’ You thought you knew, but you aren't sure anymore. Who is your sister?

Diandra ignores him.

‘’Well? Are you deaf? Who commands you? I wish to speak to him. Now!’’ She shouts, causing one soldier to even flince. The commander sighs deeply before nodding to a man who approaches.

The fighting for the walls continues. The army of the Greens outmatches the army of Dolkburg greatly. You can even see the outcome for this point of the war. It won't even take a day. Perhaps three hours, that is if you are all lucky.

From the corner of your eye, you take in an all black dressed character with long silver hair, wielding an impressive long silver sword. A Targaryen. You almost instantly back away from him, stepping on the toes of the commander. ‘’Pardon me, Ser.’’ You mutter, but he didn't even feel your feet. His iron shoes protected him. The commander bows his head in respect for the Targaryen.

The Targaryen in question is a terrifying creature that looks as if he came walking straight out of a historic book about the first conquest of Westeros. You become aware of your increased heartbeat, and you avoid drawing attention to yourself.

You heard rumours.

You all had.

There are three green Targaryens with dragons. One is the king. He is a modest threat if he comes. One is the last born prince, he too would be a modest threat. But the second one, he is the deadliest with the biggest dragon of them all. He is known as the Kinslayer or one-eye.

And unfortunately for you, and your beautiful hometown, your family's lives and the lives of your friends and everything else that matters to you, that you hold so dear, this man is clearly covering up a missing eye with a black eyepatch.

The one-eyed Targaryen grins at your sister. ‘’I am right here, little lady.’’ He speaks full of mockery in a deep raw voice that sends chills down your spine. There is no humanity or kindness in his eyes. Only bloodlust. Madness. Insanity and rage. You know that all attempts at peace are lost.

Diandra seems taken back for a moment. Perhaps she is even truly afraid for a moment. But Diandra has never learned to live on her knees. She would rather die standing than live on her knees. She looks the prince up and down slowly, as if he’s a cow on the market. ‘’You're even uglier up close.’’ She says, shocking a few soldiers and even the commander.

The prince glares at her.

‘’I am flattered.’’ He speaks, not giving a damn. But his curiosity gets the better of him anyway. ‘’Who are you, and why do you wish to die so badly?’’ He speaks, taking out his sword.

Your sister lifts her chin. ‘’I am Diandra of house Dawreyn. You're attacking my home. It's you who is going to die.’’ You close your eyes quietly, praying. If he wasn't planning on killing her...

He sure is now.

The prince laughs in her face as some of the surrounding soldiers join in.

‘’Am I now? O, my. How unfortunate.’’ He speaks, eying his men with amusement in his remaining good eye. His men chuckle or laugh. Then that laugh vanishes, leaving behind a beast. He suddenly jumps forward, causing Diandra to stumble backwards. He grits his teeth at her. ‘’I have a dragon, you foolish cunt. Perhaps I'll keep you alive as entertainment for my men. You are too young to have sex with, but we can cut you up or make you a target practice. I do warn you: I can’t see very well..’’ He warns Diandra with those words.

You must interfere. ‘’That would be foolish. My sister speaks-’’Before you can finish talking, Diandra pushes you roughly aside, walking up to Aemond before taking out a small sword.

She exhales before speaking. So loudly that everyone can hear her. ‘’I challenge you to a duel.’’ She says, her voice unshaken, her eyes burning with hatred. ‘’That is, if you are man enough to face me.’’

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You hear cold laughter of the men. ‘’No! Diandra, no.’’ You tell her strictly. ‘’Diandra stop being foolish-’’ Diandra coldly turns around to face you.

The prince snickers as well, amused by this development and very eager to spill blood. ‘’'You? You want to duel me?’’ The prince wonders outloud. ‘’You have more balls than the other men, I give you that. But I can't hurt a little peasant girl as yourself.’’

Diandra spits at the genuinely disgusting few men. ‘’Yes. I will take your other eye and send it to your brother.’’ She groans, insulted and impatient. You don’t think she is even scared. That is not a concept she’s familiar with.

The prince sighs almost as if he's bored with the entire idea of fighting your sister. ‘’O, I'm not going to do that. That wouldn't be fun for me.’’ You suppose that is true. It would be boring and a very short duel. One-sided too.

Diandra is let go of by the command of the prince. She charges at him with her sword. ‘’Do it! Do it, you coward!’’ She shouts as the guards restrain her once more.

The prince continues his dramatics for quite a while, moaning about his boredom when behind him, near the gates your people are slaughtered as pigs. ‘’I was told there was going to be a battle, yet here I am with two annoying hostages. The one a mute, the other a talkative dumb child.’’ He murmurs as Diandra screams and kicks her attackers. You are frozen and can't move a single finger.

Another person rides into the battlefield. Karst. You see he is covered in blood and has fought his way to the frontlines.He rides up to the prince and glares at him. ‘’I assume you are the Kinslayer?’’ He spats. You are glad and fearful your brother is here.

The prince's good eye narrows. ‘’I am named Aemond.’’ And just like that, the demon has a name.

Karst nods. ‘’Aemond. Good. I'm Karst of house Dawreyn. My father demands the return of my sister, Diandra.’’ Your eyes roll, but you carefully compose your face. Of course he only cares about Diandra. ‘’Release both her and her septa and we can discuss the terms of your surrender.’’ You know that Karst only protects you by lying about who you are. Bastards aren't safe under Aegon's rule. But to call you a septa? That is a lie that even a one-eyed man will easily see through.

For a moment it's silent.

Birds chirp in the distance.

Clouds roll by.

Screams are the only thing you hear.

Screams and prayers.

Until that moment passes and the laughter, that stomach twisting laughter returns. It sends shivers down your spine, and if hell had a sound, that would be it.

It would be funny. Perhaps if the roles were reversed, you would laugh too. ‘’My surrender? I see stupidity runs in the family.’’ The prince comments. Perhaps it does.

Karst does not even blink. ‘’If you won't face a woman, surely you will face a man. Or are you a craven?’’ He grins at Aemond, taunting him by taking out his sword. ‘’I heard you are one of the youngest dragon riders out of your family.’’ You never heard that story.

The prince smirks, barely hiding his pride.

‘’You heard correct.’’

Your brother comes even closer. ‘’Yet, I heard your sister, the Queen Rhaenyra was even younger.’’ You bite your lips to avoid laughing at Aemond’s enraged face. Not only did Karst remind him of a old wound, but also made clear who your family is loyal to in the same breath, when pretending to praise the Prince’s ego. Karst cleans some blood of his sword, blood you know that belongs to Aemond’s men. ‘’Do us both a favor, and duel me so we can stop this unnecessary bloodshed.’’ He speaks, as a true leader of this town.

To that the prince nods. ‘’Very well.’’ He speaks. To his men he nods. They grab you and your sister before cleaning a large space for the duel.

Karst speaks with the words of a true hero. ‘’Whoever wins this duel, takes Dolkburg.’’ He says, making a very big gamble. A too big a gamble, perhaps. But Karst is a good fighter. He is skilled. Efficient. He is enough. He needs to be enough.

He continues as the prince remains silent. ‘’Three steps. Agreed?’’ So they will take three steps back before attacking.

The prince shrugs again that bored tone of his coming out. ‘’Tis fine with me.’’ He speaks.

Karst counts out loud as he takes steps away from the prince. You watch anxiously. You focus on Karst's metal boots. You see one step. And a second one.

But before he can place his feet down for the thirth, his feet stop moving, and you watch him collapse for your own eyes.

The prince stands behind him with his sword drawn where blood still drips from. ‘’And that would be three.’’ He grins at your brother. Aemond is speaking to a corpse.

Grief is a funny thing. You, for one, are horrified and frozen and clutch your throat to silence the cries that come out. When Diandra, screams at Aemond before her small legs pick up the pace and approach him quickly. Aemond simply turns, his sword in his dominant hand and waits with a grin for her to approach. Before he can chop her head off, the Dornish commander picks Diandra up by her hips. ‘’Let me go! I shall have my revenge!’’ Diandra screams, when kicking him. You are the commander very thankful. ‘’You are a monster!” She shouts at Aemond. He was staring at the corpses of his men and although you can’t quite tell what is going on inside his head, you can see he did not appreciate that comment.

‘’Diandra, shut up.’’ You beg her as the prince is reminded of you both. He already finds her annoying. He already is tested and challenged by her.

He sees you. Perhaps he did before. But now he acknowledges your existence. You shelter your sister, aware he will kill you both.

Aemond looks at the corpse of your brother. He smirks at your trembling legs and the way you cling tightly to your sister. ‘’My. You're a pretty one.’’ He speaks, surprising you. He takes in your simple gown approvingly, treating it as a seductive cloth made of silk.

It's a compliment. You aren't used to men flirting with you. You aren't used to any of this.

‘’I am not.’’ You say instead, shielding your sister by tightly holding her against your chest.

The prince chuckles, staring a little too long at your lips.

‘’I quite disagree.’’ He murmurs to himself. He steps closer to you and you can smell a permanent almost stench of rotten meat and dead bodies as he comes closer. ‘’I have never known a septa to dress in such a way. And I have met a lot.’’ He says.

You can’t imagine where a man like him met a septa.

‘’I have recently converted.’’ You hope he buys the lie. ‘’I chased her the moment I heard her ladyship was gone.’’ You tell the prince, nodding to your sister.

He does not seem to care about Diandra's noble lineage. And that scares you. He must care, if he is to keep her alive. Diandra will be a difficult young, useless hostage that insulted him countless times already. He must see her value. ‘’That's Diandra of house Dawreyn. She is worth a lot if you were to ransom her.’’ A ransom would mean he can't hurt her. Not too badly. And you know your father too well. He would pay soon and get Diandra back, ensuring her safety once more.

For a moment, a brief moment, it seems likely that Diandra will protest. Perhaps even call you a traitor. She is close to ruining it all. But instead, she likely understands that you know the best way to save you both.

The prince takes in Diandra's glares and silk riding gown. He sighs as if he has to admit to himself that you indeed tell the truth. You are thankful for the simple beige gown you picked out today. A simple gown without any stitches or designs or patterns who won't give away that you are a Dawreyn as well. He speaks, wettening his lips with his tongue. ‘’A woman of great schemes and great beauty. You are interesting.’’ There it is again. That gentle soft tone when he speaks to you. Yet it feels like a fox trying to lure a bunny out of its den. You know it's nothing more but a facade.

Yet you try to negotiate with him. You try to get on his good side. A tiny bit as much as your heart allows. ‘’I know she made a fool of you, and I know we insulted you both. Yet I beg you to let her be. She is still a child.’’ You hope he likes the dramatic touch of your begging. He seems to like dramatics.

Instead of giving you his word as a gentleman, he stares off into the distance of your hometown. You become uncomfortable and turn your gaze away from him. ‘’Are you betrothed?’’ He asks as his men are busy fending off soldiers that try to keep coming to you and Diandra.

‘’No.’’ You respond as you watch a single soldier be beheaded brutally. He survives the first attempt, and the blood splashes down his armor, and you can hear his screams before he bleeds out. The agreement remains. He won. Dolkburg is his. ‘’M-my prince, you can stop the fighting. We’ll let Lord Samwell know that you and Karst made an agreement-’’

His lips curl into a smirk as he briefly looks up from the moaning and screaming soldiers that beg for death and mercy. ‘’I have no intention to stop this battle.’’ He sounds almost happy. Glad, delighted and peppy. Not how you would expect.

You don’t understand. Why waste good men and resources on a fight already won? Why kill innocents? ‘’But..why ever not? You are clearly on the winning side. What good will it do?’’ You sound like a little foolish girl.

He grins, amused. ‘’You’re a woman, so I don’t expect your innocent and pure mind to understand the way I think. These men are traitors. They defied my brother and his reign. They will answer for their crimes with fire and blood.’’ You need to stop this. Now. You watch his sword, where the blood of your brother still drips down. This is insanity. ‘’Most men didn’t deny Aegon. You know this! Most men simply follow their lord. They don’t choose to die-’’ they don't even choose to follow their lord.

You might see it that way. But he does not. ‘’They made a choice. And they choose wrong. If you like, you can give them proper burial after since you are a septa.’’ You nod, unsure as to how you would even do so. You don’t know anything about septas or burials. And he knows it too, you can tell he was sarcastic.

‘’Married?’’ The prince asks as a casual follow-up. You ignore him as your father comes through the lines, pushing an army of soldiers through the broken gates. They fend off the first few guards. And they slay whoever is on their path. As they push forward, the other half of the army is riled up and follows them, with a powerful battle cry. Even the smallfolk has come out, rallied to their cause, with whatever weapons they could find. Some grab swords from fallen soldiers, others just use pans and knifes.

More and more soldiers on Aemond’s side die as the battle seems to turn.

Your lips begin to smile hopefully as Diandra applauds. Annoyed, Aemond glares at her. You are quick to stop her. ‘’I asked you something.’’ He groans when he grabs you by the throat. You are not choked but understand by the rage and insanity in his remaining good eye he is very close and tempted to do so.

‘’Are you married?’’ He repeats, almost spitting at you.

You are not sure why he asks. You are sure you don’t want him to know that you are unwed.

And you won't become his.

So you lie.

The word rolls easily over your lips as you pretend to think back of a love long lost. ‘’Widowed.’’ You speak your voice soft. ‘’He went to the Reach to fight. They say he was burned alive.’’ You know he was there. You know he killed and blazed dozens in the Reach. You hope he feels terrible about it. Yet he begins to smile again, careless and pleased.

‘’I can live with that.’’ He chuckles in your ear. ‘’A woman as gorgeous as yourself is too pretty to be a widow forever. It's past time you moved on.’’ He lets go of you, pleased you answered him but annoyed it took you so damn long.

You absently nod. Until you have the eerie feeling that he might be referring to himself.

Your father fights well and bravely. But to think he would win is a foolish thought. And eventually, he is captured and brought forward. ‘’Daddy!’' Diandra yells as they take him closer to her.

Almost happy with her, Aemond perks up and whispers something in the ear of a soldier close to him. The soldier runs off.

Aemond approaches Diandra and grabs a handful of her dark locks, causing her to cry out. He throws her on her knees and forces the blade he carries on her neck, ready to behead her any moment. ‘’That is a child!’’ You seem to be the only one disgusted by this.

He glares in your direction and another soldier grabs your arms. ‘’Do not harm the septa.’’ Aemond growls, warning him. The soldier lets go of you instantly. He turns his head to your father. ‘’Bend the knee or see your daughter die the way I killed your son as well.’’ Realization hits your father as the soldier brings Karst's head to him. Your father tears up helplessly as he nods. The head is tossed around between soldiers, before Aemond takes the skull of your brother and inserts his sword into the right eye of Karst.

Your sister is the child, the small one, the weaker one. You must protect her.

‘’Look away, Diandra!’’ You warn her, but it is too late. Diandra watches with her mouth open as Aemond cuts out one of the eyes of your brother, proudly as if its his trophy. Aemond laughs, taking in the eye.

Karst’s blue gorgeous and bright eyes.

‘’He had gorgeous eyes. I bet he fucked a lot of women, didn’t he?’’ He asks your father, and you are appealed at the audacity of him. Your father does not respond, silent tears running down both his cheeks. Aemond chuckles, before kicking your father against his kneecaps. ‘’You can be silent all you wish, I like silence. Helps me think.’’

‘’I bet he had his eyes set on the Septa here.’’ Aemond continues, gesturing to you. ‘’That’s why he rode into Battle, that’s why he challenged me. Not for his useless brat sister, but because he had a hard one for her.’’ Your own brother. You know he is lying. But just that thought, makes you sick. He sees your disgust and your glare and smirks. ‘’Does that disgust you? My apologies.’’

Your father croaks out. ‘’And my other daughter? What will you do with Y/N?’’ You close your eyes in fear as cold sweat breaks out. You hear Aemond's boots turn around to face you and you open your eyes. When you do you are confronted with his rage and his displeasure. You helplessly tear up. ‘’Please, I know she's a bastard but she is my daughter. Certainly you can make an exception for once. We can even pay you.’’ He offers. ‘’We have gold, plenty of women, animals for your dragon, you can even burn me, if you like. But not my children. She is good, so is Diandra. They are sweet kind girls-’’

You don’t know Aemond very well. But he does not seem to care even a bit about money. He cares about justice, about honor and revenge. Gold is not important to him.

Disgusted as if he burned himself or as if you are a disgusting thing, Aemond pushes you in the dirt next to your sister. The blade switches necks. You feel it cold in your throat. ‘’You shouldn't have lied to me.’’ He hisses in your ear, forcing you to feel the blade taunt and slightly touch your neck. You whimper. You don't want to die.

‘’Y/n!’’ Diandra cries.

Aemond ignores the protests. ‘’I've come to a wonderful conclusion: I will take this city, and I will take it in the name of my brother, King Aegon II.’’ That was to be expected. ‘’So, since you are the ruling family, you will all bend the knee to me and I’lll decide what I’ll do with you traitors later.’’ You can’t imagine he will let your father live. Diandra has one final thing to say.

‘’You are a coward! You attack our home, you harass my sister and you kill my brother and for what?! Because we wouldn’t bend the knee to your drunken cunt of a brother?! You Greens claim that Rhaenyra’s children aren’t true Targaryens, but at least they aren’t true monsters!’

Aemond takes a deep breath once she has finished speaking. ‘’The little brat annoys me. Perhaps she needs discipline.’’ You freeze and watch as a soldier grabs Diandra before hitting her multiple times across her face until blood streams from her nose and tears roll down her cheeks. He smirks, folding his hands on his back. ‘’Much better.’’

You are horrified, still on your knees as Aemond presses you further down in the mud. You make a wordless prayer to the gods. ‘’As I said: I will take this city. I will bestow mercy on everyone who bends the knee.’’ Aemond says, and you can’t help but frown. Part of you know he is lying to the masses. He is lying and playing them. You’ve seen earlier that Aemond does not care about the people he kills. Your father nods, hestiant at first but understands you don’t have a choice.

You finally get up from the ground, carefully looking at Aemond for approval. He does not seem to care nor notice you at all anymore.

He gives his soldiers instructions.

‘’Escort them to the bricks until I've decided that they can be released.’’ He speaks. ‘’Treat them with utmost respect. These people are nobility.’’ He warns the guards. A few nod, and your family is escorted away from you. Diandra cries your name when she is escorting to your home, where she will be held as a prisoner. ‘’Y/n! No!’’

Aemond sighs. The commander comes up to him. ‘’We rounded up around 300 survivors. And around 800 wounded men.’’ That is a joke compared to the troops that Aemond has. You don’t know his exact numbers but one glance behind you, and you don’t have to. You can count.

The prince thinks.

‘’Hm. Put the wounded out of their misery. And bring the survivors to the city gates.’’ He is going to kill the survivors. You know he is. That is why he wanted your father gone, he pretended to care so your father would go quietly. Since Aemond is distracted with the surrender of your hometown, you easily slip past a few guards, quickly putting distance between you and him.

You are almost at the gates when a hand grabs your arm, pulling you back. ‘’No! No, I don't want to go back!’’ You beg whoever holds your arm. You look straight into the face of the commander. He has a sorrowful pitiful look in his eye as he drags you back to Aemond who is waiting where you left him.

‘’On your knees.’’ He commands you the moment you are in front of him. He takes out the same sword he killed your brother with. He will kill you the same way.

‘’Why?’’ You whisper as a craven. ‘’I don’t want to die.’’ You confess softly.

His good eye rolls again, and he hisses at his soldiers. ‘’Help that simple woman.’’ He tells his guards and soldiers. Two men eagerly force you on your knees in front of the prince.

‘’I was so disappointed when I found out you had left my side.’’ He speaks the moment you are pushed on your knees. ‘’I thought you were smarter than to run away from me.’’ You are shocked for a brief moment. No one ever called you smart before. No one.

You huff, insulted and perhaps it helps that you know you will die: You have nothing left to lose. There is nothing you can say to hurt yourself even more. ‘’I saw the way you let go of me. You don't find me attractive anymore. I'm just a dirty bastard. Why waste your time with me? You’ll kill me eventually.’’

He chuckles, in a light, delighted manner. ‘’Kill you? No, no. That would be a shame of a pretty face.’’ Your face is touched, almost gently caressed and you are confused and terrified. You rather be with your family in a cell, than here. ‘’Now, I'm afraid that there is a punishment due for you.’’ He says, and he can’t hide his smirk.

You open your mouth to protest. Aemond takes the sword he killed your brother with, and makes sure that fresh blood is stained on the blade by running the sword, almost coating it in the blood of your brother by slashing open his corpse. The blade is now covered in crimson, red dripping blood. Aemond brings the blade to your face. He gently tilts his head and when he looks you in the eyes you know you have two choices. Submit or die. ‘’Lick my sword.’’ He says.

You hesitate. ‘’That is my brother. That is…disgusting.’’ You protest. Licking his blood, disrespecting his corpse and tasting his blood: it is all too much for you. You burst into tears.

Aemond sighs. ‘’As a Targaryen, I don’t quite see the issue.’’ He jests, causing the commander to chuckle, as well other soldiers. ‘’You can lick this sword or you can get on your pretty knees and die.’’ He says, carelessly.

You hope he does not cut your tongue out with it. You lick the edge of the blade, softly careful not to hurt your own tongue. Aemond watches, his breath stuck in his throat as you gently lick the blood clean of his blade. You feel disgusted and sick after it, and you must to all you can to avoid throwing up. Aemond moves the sword,into his seath.

‘’You see that, men? These women have no self-respect, no dignity, no value. They are as sheep in the meadow, ready for a good ram to fuck them.’’ He speaks to the masses of the army he commands, using you as a example. You whimper when Aemond grabs you by the throat.

He throws you on your knees in front of him.

‘’Kiss my boots.’’ He hisses. ‘’Show me your obedience and you won’t be killed.’’ He promises you. ‘’Kiss them, or I will fly my dragon over your hometown and burn everything and everyone that you hold dear to ash.’’ You bend your head and leave two kisses on each his boots. You recoil when you taste the disgusting mud he walked through.

Aemond grabs you from the ground, by the throat and roughly kisses you. You protest and try to flee him, but he holds you too tightly to escape. You are made a spectacle of. This is not desire, this is power. ‘’Tell the men this one won't be hurt or touched without my approval. She's mine.’’ He barks at the commander and leaves with a posessive smack on your ass. You flinch, whimpering.

You understand your fate very well. The prince lifts your teary cheeks and kisses your lips, gentle and soft this time. A horse is brought to you both. ‘’You’ll ride with me.’’ He tells you. ‘’When we are riding through the city, you’ll hold your brother’s head for me. You hold it above your head, you show it around and you make sure that every fucking villager in this piss-forgotten-shithole understands who’s in charge now.’’ He groans in your ear.

You nod, terrified. His face and voice softens. ‘’I am so glad I found you before I sacked this place.’’ You hate that word with a burning passion. ‘’You might have gotten hurt.’’ He makes his voice soft when speaking to you, almost seductive and sweet. ‘’I might be staying a while. I hear the nights are dark and cold here. I need someone to keep me warm.’’

You don’t respond, not thrusting yourself to not cry. ‘’And who’s better fitted for that, than a nameless, bastard who dared to lie to me?’’ He lifts your chin so he can count the tears in your eyes, before they fall and roll down your cheeks.

‘’Get on the horse.’’ He says, commanding you. You clumsily climb on the horse, waiting for his further instructions. He climbs on the same horse, and wraps his bloodied hands around your waist, staining your dress. He takes the reins of the horse and directs it to where the majority of the survivors are rounded up.

You hold the head of your brother as a few soldiers from your father’s troops recognize you. Your hands shake yet you won't let go of your brother’s head. Aemond makes sure that you are surrounded by guards loyal to him before leaving. You remain alone at the castle gates, under guard.

Aemond finally returns, with his dragon. He commands the survivors to be brought outside. You are forced on your knees in the grass, between bloodied bodies, missing body parts and arrows. Because he wants you to see and to remember well what comes next. He starts with the survivors who are the most injured. An old man around your father’s age can’t walk because of his bleeding legs. ‘’Let me help with you that.’’ Aemond offers the man a hand. The man smiles, through his pain. Aemond quickly takes out his sword instead, slashing at the injured leg until the plain muscle holding his leg together as thin threads is cut and the man screams. He collects the leg and feeds it to his dragon. After that, he feeds the man the leg belonged to.

Aemond forces around dozens of people to his dragon. Some are roasted first, screaming as they burn in their armor. Some are chopped up, cut up, slashed up, everything to make the meal sweeter for Aemond’s beloved Dragon. You remain on your knees, sobbing with every new victim for mercy by Aemond. Instead of doing so he grins, leaning and gives you his even more bloodied sword to lick clean. ‘’Save your voice, little Y/N. You are going to need it badly once we are alone.’’

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''But Vhagar didnt you already publish-''

I did rewrote it. Aemond did not took the eye in the orginal one.

I found that a ...neat little addition:))

86 notes · View notes

safely-in-vhagars-belly · 4 months

Text

Ashes burn (Dark!Aemond x ASABFO (Asigned at birth female oc/reader) ((oc is nameless)) chapter 4: i am bad at naming chapters (will edit this later)

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, book setting, gore, dubcon and Dark!Aemond

🔷Summary: Your hometown has fallen and you become Aemond targaryen's pet.

🔷Author's note: I like to think that this Aemond and Snowfalls Aemond write each other letters to compete in who is the bigger asshole of them both, i wouldnt know. As always: This is a dark! Aemond fic. You do not find him being a unicorn here. He is not kind. He is not friendly. He does not want you to meet his mother. Go away if dark themes offend you because this fic is not for you and thats fine.

🔷Wordcount :around 6k. ( thats huge)

Warnings below the cut but god knows its dark

taglist: @jamespotterismydaddy

Warnings: Suicide, rape (but does not occur between oc/aemond ((dubcon does happen) murder, blood, stabbing, sex, p in v, oral sex (m rec. f rec.) clear insane Aemond, blood and knife kinks, murder kinks, Aemond being unworthy of air for 6k words straight. Looking on as someone gets f*cked (idk the word) and trauma and blood and gore as well as drinking.

Still here?

Awesome! lets go

You like to think of yourself as a sane, average woman with a good working head. It never failed you yet, despite whatever life had thrown at all.

Growing up a bastard was difficult enough as it is. Your new stepmother and her stepdaughters did not make that easier. Your father’s expectations about your future, did not make that easier and your ever wondering about who possibly could be your mother, did not make it easier at all.

Life has been nothing but difficult, yet you count the blessings, the lights in the dark. The smaller turnips during a famine and the raindrops in a desert. It is not much, by a long shot. Not enough to dull the pain, that is for certain. But it is enough to keep forcing yourself to set your left foot in front of the right one, to keep your head up and to keep going.

It has to be enough.

That was until this morning, when your little sister Diandra rode off to meet the soldiers of King Aegon, second of his name, laying siege to your hometown. Diandra is aged 4 and ten yet she has the courage of a man of thirty. You followed her into the battlefield, as she was openly insulting the man leading the siege, Prince Aemond Targaryen, the one eyed prince, or the sapphire Prince, as many call him.

Aemond executed your brother, took his eyes out, and kept you as a ‘’pet’’. He told you he would not be cold during his stay at your family’s estate, and you would be the reason for that. You have tried to sneak away, but so far Aemond has discovered your attempts and punished you mercilessly for each attempt you took.

Diandra is locked up in the dungeon, likely cold and shivering, missing her stuffed plush toy she can’t sleep without, together with your other family members.

Aemond does not care about gold. Aemond sees them as traitors to the realm for helping Rhaenyra’s cause. He would sooner let another man take his other eye, than let traitors roam free again. He prefers killing them, you’ve seen it before when he fed the men in your father’s army to his dragon, laughing as he cut off limbs, as a little boy who was granted a present for his name day.

You never saw anything so frightful as his smile whenever he sees his prey bleed. You never heard a sound as horrible as his laugh, convinced he shares it with the Stranger himself. The same dead tone, the same hollowness and yet the illusion of softness, well spoken and gentleness. Things he does not possess.

The feast he threw in his own name, to celebrate the conquest of your hometown, ended barely half an hour ago. Yet your servants are already cleaning up the decorations, working quickly under the watchful eye of soldiers that carry the famous golden dragon on their chest, the symbol of Aegon, Aemond’s older brother.

You are standing next to Aemond, your long yet sleeveless green gown with open back and inviting neckline all that protects you from the cold winds. He picked it out for you, not caring much if you would be cold. It was clear that he finds you attractive in this cloth, and that was all that mattered to him.

As the Prince briefly plays with his goblet, watching the red wine flow over the edge every time, you notice that the Dornish commander comes out of the shadows, approaching you both. He makes a bow for Aemond and addresses him without awaiting acknowledgement. ‘’My prince. What shall we do with the corpse of Lord Dawreyn?’’ You think back of how Aemond handed you the sword and gave you the option.

Kill your own father or watch him butcher everyone in this town. Aemond was delighted when you picked up the sword. How delighted he was then, not so long ago, in theory, so annoyed he is now. He is as fickle as a candle, dancing on the whims of the elements, of whatever bothers him. ‘’Any suggestions, Cole? I don’t have the faintest idea what to do with him.’’ He says, surprising you.

You have never known him to not have an idea for as long as you know him. You assumed he would have a wicked evil plot for your father’s corpse, but that is not true, after all. Perhaps he only pretends to be a monster. You know that your family members usually are laid to rest in the Dolkburg Crypt under the estate of your home. ‘’We have a family crypt.’’ You tell the prince, speaking gently and causing both men to look at you. ‘’It is a tradition my father is to rest with his kin.’’

Aemond makes a funny little noise, close to a scoff and a chuckle at once, and you feel your courage die off. ‘’You think I will allow a traitor and a rebel to peacefully find rest in his beloved crypt? Furthermore, you think I allow you to decide such matters?’’ He shakes his head, laughing as he grabs hold of your hips, his cold fingers touching your chin as well, cleaning your forehead of blood. Your father’s blood.

You fight briefly in his arms, seeking escape and help. Aemond’s grip only tightens, his smirk growing dangerous and predatory. ‘’You know what, sweet Pet? Just because you suggested it, just because you dared to stick that little bastard nose of yours where it certainly does not belong, I’ll think of a cruel punishment for both you and your father’s corpse.’’ You regret speaking up, but know that uttering an apology will only make it worse.

Aemond stares in the distance, likely to where his dragon is awaiting him, guarded by soldiers. Women and men scream in the background, yet you only hear the women's cries and the laughter, the sickening laughter of his soldiers as they commit the one after the other unspeakable crime.

‘’Hm. His head is to be brought to me, I have plans with it. The legs can be put on the spikes of the gates, and his cock? We will send that to my traitor sister, the so-called ‘Queen.’ I know for one she likes her men at least twenty years older than she is.’’ He laughs at his own joke, likely something you don’t quite understand and smirks at Cole, who tries to hide his disgust very well. ‘’And perhaps she’ll finally have some pleasure this way in ways my uncle failed to satisfy her, and stop this silly little fit of hers, and quietly roll over as a good woman would and stop pestering us all with her ‘’claim’’.’’ Viserys named her his heir. It is no claim. And if it is, it is on an equal scale as that of King Aegon. Yet you don’t say this.

You look around you, noticinging you are the only woman left. Most servant girls have been taken elsewhere by Aemond’s men, likely into the taverns. You begged him earlier for their release, to which he only laughed and said that they were entitled to a few ladies, as they bled for this town. You were close to ripping his silver hair out, one hair by one. You promised your father that you would keep this town safe, and what do you do? You entertain this murderer, this kinslayer and this war criminal. Because you are a coward.

‘’I’m off for tonight. If anything happens, you’re in charge, Cole.’’ Aemond says, addressing the commander. His fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. ‘’I have plans that involve trying out my new beloved Pet.’’ You let out a shaky breath.

It should scare you, being alone with the prince. In some ways, it does. It mostly terrifies you. But fear is a funny thing. It awakens bravery in souls that have never been brave their entire lives. Only when one is scared, one can be truly brave.

Prince Aemond has been drinking, quite a bit if your counting is correct and quite quickly, almost throwing down the one after the other cup of wine. Perhaps if you can make him take a bit more, he’ll pass out and sleep without bothering you. Wishful thinking, perhaps. An opportunity, for certain. Your father did the same with Diandra and you whenever you couldn’t sleep.

Aemond hooks his arms in yours, dragging you off to your childhood home. The closer you come, the more screams can be heard inside the property, as well as laughter, begs and things breaking. It sounds like glass, and when you lift your head you watch as a servant girl throws herself down the highest floor, screaming as she lands face down on the tiles, her head scattering open as a ripe and juicy piece of fruit. Blood and gore jumps out of her head, as if it are little snakes enchanted by the flute of a singer. It ends up everywhere and yet nowhere at once. It is on the tiles and your gown, but somehow, it does not hit you yet that this has happened. It is as if your mind has closed itself, guarding itself against more pain and trauma.

That awful, awakening feeling of realization, the conclusion that this is forever, irreversible and your fault, comes within a second, yet it takes forever.

You are frozen, completely shocked as you take in the red bloodied spots by her legs and assume she was likely raped before she jumped. You never saw someone kill themselves before. She was your lady. And you failed her.

Aemond simply steps over her body, as if she is not there. ‘’Pet, follow.’’ He barks. You lift your dress to avoid more blood on it, and step over her corpse too, whispering a silent prayer for her soul. And an apology that you failed her.

—

Aemond brings you inside the bedroom of your father, the biggest bedroom in the house. It is likely why he picked it out for himself. You notice that for a man with such a hideous scar, he is quite vain. Perhaps that is the reason as well.

Daros is following closely behind, chained and pushed behind you and Aemond and you quietly wonder if he will be forced to watch whatever Aemond plans to do with you.

‘’Tell me a bit about this room, Pet.’’ Aemond speaks after Daros has been tied up to a chair, and you are touching the silk fabric of your gown, enjoying the soft almost cutting feeling it gives you when you go a little too fast.

You think. What is there to tell? It does not have any stories. It is a room, used by the leading men of your family for generations. But there are no heroic stories or ghost stories that have happened between these walls. No bloody betrayls or secret weddings full of passion. It is just a room with four walls and a bed. It is nothing special.

It can never be as special as the man it belonged to. It can never be as special as your father.

Now it belongs to the worst person who ever set foot in your town.

Daros might have been tied up, but he is not gagged. He raises his chin, speaking on your behalf. ‘’This is the bedchamber of her father, Lord Samwell Dawreyn.’’ Hearing his name hurts you. It cuts open your heart and slices your soul.

At first, Aemond slightly tilts his head, his good eye clearing speaking ahead of his words by just twitching: He is enraged that Daros dares to speak to him, for you, and without any permission. He is envious that Daros is not afraid.

“Hm.” The prince simply comments. “So, it belongs to your father, little Pet? The old fuck you killed?” He asks, his eyes staring hungrily at your bloodied gown, likely recalling the moment where you killed him.

You still see his eyes whenever you close yours. You wonder if that will be forever. Or if one day the horrible day will come you can no longer recall his face.

Aemond briefly walks around the room, inspecting it. “This is likely the same room where your father fucked you into the whore that is your mother, Pet.” He joyfully concludes, shaming you.

But it hurts more that he drags your mother into this, calling her a whore as well.

“How ironic that you will lose your maidenhead in this very room as well.” He adds his voice sinister and a threat. He takes another sip of his wine as you sniffle. “I love it when fate has a good sense of humor.”

Unable to help yourself, you raise your hand at him, ready to strike any moment. He is not impressed and just chuckles as if he finds it very adorable. “O, you can do that, little pet. Get rough with me, and I sure will do the same with you. I don't mind it. I like it rough. I love it, in a sick twisted way.” He grins, staring at your tits as if he can already picture himself inside of you.

You frown at his words, worried that nothing will cross a line when it comes to him, and that nothing is sacred or holy when it comes to him. No crimes he won’t commit, no blood he will not spill, including your own.

He smiles, lowering his eye so he can look at you properly. “But you? Oh, darling. You wouldn't like it one bit.” He chuckles, and yes he is right. “Either lower your hand or deliver the slap.” He says after he has lost his patience, becoming bored and annoyed with you wavering.

You back down, helpless and afraid. You feel so small and useless. You tear up. He finds that very amusing. “My little craven pet. You are too scared to stand up to me, hm? I wonder why.” He takes his dagger out, touching your face with the even cold side of it.

“You have so many men.” You manage to stutter out afraid as the knife approaches your eyes closer and closer. You worry that one day he will bore himself with you and pass you down as a toy to his men.

He almost chokes on his own laughter, clearly finding it ridiculous that you are scared of his army.

‘’My men? My useless fucking soldiers scare you?’’ From what you’ve seen, they are anything but useless, clearly trained in warfare and combat alike.

You do not know why you are defending his soldiers. Perhaps to show and shame him into thinking he is not powerful as he thinks he is. Perhaps because you need to tell yourself lies why you don’t interfere with Aemond’s twisted plans and plots more. ‘’They helped you win this siege.’’

Daros lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and Aemond just rolls his good eye. ‘’If the battle had turned ugly, I would have happily burned them all and your town to ash.’’ He says and you don’t doubt him for a moment.

You whimper, afraid at these words, your lips trembling.

‘’Come here.’’ He murmurs against your ear, grabbing you so you won't be able to get away. He turns you to his front, placing the knife at your throat. His slender fingers find the fabric on your shoulders, that hold up your dress and the final piece of your dignity. He brings the knife under the fabric, cutting a cruel hole while you stand there, very close to him and held by your throat by his other hand. He rips the fabric of your gown, baring you naked for both him and Daros to see.

You at first cover yourself, as well as you can. That is until Aemond starts choking you, to warn you of that. Your hands that had cupped your breasts drop and he takes a good look at what is shielding beneath your legs as well as your breasts. Not a single inch of your skin is unknown to him anymore.

Aemond takes a step back to fully appreciate your beauty and your purity when Daros does his best to remain respectful, his eyes lowered at the ground. You appreciate his respect and his gesture.

The prince seems to notice your attention is no longer aimed at him. He becomes furious and turns around, watching Daros who stubbornly glares at the floor tiles instead. He curses, before storming over to Daros, yanking him up by his dark black hairs, and dragging his nails into his throat, spitting threats and orders at him. ’Watch her. Watch her, you fucking useless-’’ You back away, closer and closer to the walls of the rooms, aware you are only trapping yourself.

He exhales, calming himself down, at least, to give you the illusion that he is now calm. You know he is just playing you. ‘’You know what? For every moment your eyes are on the ground and not aimed at her, I'll spank her. Starting now.’’ He walks back to you, a grin on his lips.

You back away further until your back meets the wall. Prince Aemond slenters over to you, slow and tutorious until he finally pins you between his arms, not allowing you to move an inch. ‘’Not running from me, are you, little Pet?’’ He asks, his voice a bit raspy and his one remaining eye clearly deranged.

‘’Please do not hurt me.’’

‘’Sh, sweet thing.’’ He whispers when gently nibbling down on your neck, watching you gasp and twist. Until he finally delivers the smack, turning your body sideways so he can reach your ass, and deals a full cruel blow.

You cry out in pain.

‘’Hm,’’ He chuckles, delighted to hear the anguish and fear in your voice. ‘’Gods, you are a delight. Your cries are enough to make me hard, you know that?’’ He laughs. ‘’Come, little pet. You aren’t done yet, your friend isn’t looking, after all.’’

Finally, Daros looks up, tears running down his face as well. Aemond mutters something, clearly annoyed that his game is interrupted but does not force you to come with him anymore.

You turn to Daros who remains chained to the chair where Aemond put him. His bloodied nose has spread blood everywhere and you wish Aemond would give him something to clean his face with. ‘’Lovely tits, tight looking cunt. I am a lucky man.’’ Aemond smirks after he had a thorough inspection, taking in your body.

‘’Please make Daros leave before we make love.’’ You beg. ‘’He is as a brother to me.’’

Daros looks as if you stomped on his heart and Aemond just burst out into laughter. ‘’You hear that, you shit? Your soulmate thinks you are a brother. Even in my family we know what that means!’’ He laughs, and you understand you must have accidentally hurt Daros’s feelings.

Yet you hope that now that Aemond is amused, this might be a chance to get on his good side.

‘’So you'll...consider it?’’ You ask hopeful as Aemond's fingers gently brush aside your hair, touching your neck and untying your necklace for you. It drops to the floor, on your dress.

He stops laughing. You instantly become quiet and nervous too. ‘’You know what? I am done with your useless begs and endless whining. It's past time you learned what a pet is.’’ You do not think you’ll like learning it. He gently taps against your chin to get you to look at him. ‘’A pet obeys her master. You no longer will advocate for useless servants or people here. They are all mine to torment. As are you.’’ He says.

You worry you can not hold your one promise to your father. That you would protect your family and your town. ‘’Lay on the bed.’’ He says, folding his hands back on his back, giving you a clear order. You obey, climbing on the bed, laying on your stomach. You feel arousal between your legs and try to stop it at all costs.

Any woman in your position would not enjoy herself. Yet your body finds the prince attractive, despite his crimes and his horribleness. Perhaps it is what he said: Perhaps you are simply so eager for a husband, that you accept whatever comes your way, no matter how horrid the flavor is of this beautiful looking cake.

The prince glances at you. “Good girl.” He whispers in your ear. You are grabbed by your hips and flipped on the bed, your wet cunt now visible for him. He spreads your legs roughly, yanking them apart with just one hand. His other free hand vanishes in the triangle of your legs.

It feels odd to have someone else touch you there. And you can't help but enjoy yourself regardless.

But you are embarrassed and mortified that he will soon discover that you are wet. “Don't-” you beg but it is too late.

Judging by his heartless little chuckle and his spreading grin he can likely already feel just how wet you are for the Prince. His fingers softly pet and try out the limit of your body, gently pushing in.

“O, little filthy thing. Being so wet for me despite me treating you like shit. Your poor little maiden cunt is basically crying out for me.” He sighs, removing his fingers. You are a bit confused as to why he is leaving your body. Perhaps a bit angry too.

He smirks, knowing all too well you secretly enjoyed it. “Your little friend has a soaked drenched little cunt.” He speaks to Daros again who looked on as Aemond fucked you with his fingers.

Aemond grins at him, bringing his head close to your entrance. You watch as his tongue rolls out of his mouth, gently licking the wet smooth skin. You gasp, slightly twisting. The licks become sloppy, fast and hungry as you begin to feel even more aroused by this act of pleasure. You were never pleasured there before.

He seems to enjoy himself as well, moaning loudly at your wet sex as he takes the one after the other greedy lick. He takes his time with you. At some point he lets out a low soft moan, clearly licking away at your cunt, your juices ending up on his tongue, in his mouth as if he didn't drink for days and this is all there is for him.

You twist a bit, slightly turning but the prince slams your legs back down, to hold you firmly in place. You like the way his grip tightens and you feel calm for a brief moment.

You feel conflicting emotions. Hatred and shame and mostly disgust and just pure arousal and enjoyment. Your body likes it but your heart can't forgive him.

After having a proper taste, Aemond removes his tongue from your entrance, locking eyes with you as he allows his tongue to wetten his lips, likely spreading your taste all over it. He sighs in delight. He turns to Daros with a grin. “She tastes sweet. Almost as a perfectly riped strawberry, aching to be plucked.” You feel you clench yourself at his choice of words, softly breathing a little harder, arousal getting the better of you.

You still remain where you are, but do eye the door. “And pluck you I will.” He grins at you, smacking your wet and soaked cunny that still shimmers with his salvia. You cry out, helplessly and a little turned on by the gesture.

Prince Aemond grins, easily forcing you up to sit on your behind again. You look around for any ideas of what he could want. Instead of telling you what he plans, he simply forces your head down in a pillow, and forces your legs in a kneeling position.

Aemond forces your hands above your head, pinning them together.

“Remain like this.” He tells you, his voice is a bit strained. You give an obedient nod, your hands above your head and kneeling like a good girl.

“Come. You have to see this up close.” He tells Daros after he is freed.

“This is filthy.” daros comments. “I shouldn't see this. She doesn't want me to see this.”

You are thankful for his kindness.

“O, don't be a craven.” That is all prince Aemond says.

“You see how it's glinstering? Poor little Pet needs it so badly.”

“Don't you, little pet?” He asks. You give a soft shy nod.

To that the prince laughs. “Look at you, finally being honest to yourself. Do not worry, Sweet little pet. Soon.” He promises.

“You, you peasant. Take the chair and watch me fuck my pet.” He grins.

“She has a fucking name!” Daros leashes out. You are shocked at his outburst and worry that Aemond will break another part of his body now.

“I don't care.” Aemond says with a little shrug. “Neither will she. She is all I decide she is.” He feels your cunt one more time but you can tell its the final time when he undoes his pants and lowers them.

You can't help but watch the prince, curious to his manhood that is about to be revealed. Prince Aemond catches you watching and smirks. “Pet can deny it all she likes. She wants this.” He says slentering over lazily.

In submission, you bow your head, your desires getting the better off you. Your cunt is drenched for sure and your desires are high and rushing. Prince Aemond knows this.

Your legs are parted slightly, so that the prince may reach your forbidden fruit. You take a deep breath and close your eyes…

And take another quick sharp breath when the Prince's cock pierces through your maidenhead, destroying your innocence and throbs away at your wet cunt.

You gasp, a little louder as the pain begins to form, your body slightly twisting. The prince chuckles in your ear. “I'm almost in, pet. You do it well.”

“Almost?” You breath out, confused. The prince does not answer you and instead sinks in deeper, causing you to flinch and to cry out.

He is finally in, you have him inside of you. In a intimate place where no one has been before. And now that he is here, you never want him to leave.

You buck your hips back at his front, desire getting the better of you as you start to pant, your shame and ego leaving your body.

“See that? Such a eager little pet. I bet you imagined how she is like to fuck. To feel your cock take her walls and to feel her nippels harden and pierce.”

You forgot all about Daros but when Aemond picks back the torture session your head snaps.

Aemond forces it back with a firm yank at your hair, grinning and spitting at your face when you flinch. He leans in. “You want my attention? You got it, pet. Be a good girl for me and let me just make use of you.”

The prince's hard body part continues the journey inside you, this time there is no kindness or holding back. He simply keeps slamming inside of you, truly fucking you as you slightly close your eyes, barely containing your moans.

“Too much.” You beg, shivering and shaking with little electric shocks going all over your body.

Prince Aemond ignores you. “You will watch us both. You will watch your little friend here, fuck me, herself, and every fucking person in this shithole if I wish it. You'll watch her come and become a woman.” The prince tells Daros.

You try to interfere again but this time the Prince has spotted you. He glares before slamming back inside of you, this time spanking you roughly during the fucking he gives you.

Your cries become a soft mix of complaints and whimpers, leaving your mouth together with salvia as you eagerly buck back. You need him. You feel it builds to an extension where you can not handle it.

“Well, well, well.” He smirks, behind you still thrusting deep and steadily. “You watch her. Watch her close. This is going to be fun.” Prince Aemond declares.

Daros looks at your face, likely dirty of Aemond's spit early and your own drooling as well as sweat and dried tears and old blood. It truly looks like a mess you just know so.

Prince Aemond grins, panting as he grabs you by your hips, his cock finding your cunt once more. You are bent a bit lower, almost laying down when getting it as his thrusts only increase as does your desire. It builds rapidly as you dig your fingers into the mattress, your hips and back giving it your all to the prince.

You gasp, wanting to leave it. “S-stop it's too much.” You beg. To that he only laughs.

“So much…I can't handle..”

But he does not listen. He keeps fucking you, his rhythm becoming a hard and fast mix. Your nails are hurting as is your cunt but you need to reach your height. You need it.

The prince simply pulls you a little closer and whispers in your ear, the cock up your cunt. “You will come now, little bastard. You'll soak my cock and in return, I'll coat your cunny with cum. How does that sound?”

As an answer you buck.

He grins, returning to giving it his all with rough trust that causes you to cry out.

You feel like a chain that has snapped. You feel as a ball thrown in the air that finally lands and as a bird that reaches its nest.

You make a strangled little cry that starts soft but ends with a powerful shout that expresses your desire and need. You hear a chuckle behind you, belonging to Aemond who takes you now that you are weak and soft.

You can't take it anymore and that is when you break, on his cock and when you finally find pleasure. Your moans are fast and greedy as the prince allows you to come with a cheeky grin on his face.

After you are done for, you feel him grab your tired hips and sink inside of you, much more painful than he was before. He roughly trusts and you whimper.

After a rough few minutes you hear the prince hiss and feel him push one final time. “I'm going to come now, bastard.”

You hear him grunt.

You wonder what he means. That is until you feel a soft sharp pain and him finally leaving you be.

You sit up, looking at the bloodied spot at the sheets. Prince Aemond rubs his cock, as you lay on your side watching. When he is done there is white substance on his fingers. “Suck.” He tells you as if you are his mere pet.

You sit up straight, crying the moment that you do of muscle pain between your legs and your hips. Yet you bravely continue knowing the prince does not like to wait.

Your head is grabbed roughly and your mouth is forced open. The cock is put inside and your lips close around his head, sucking it.

The prince sighs of relief and pleasure, nodding in approval as you slowly work on his cock. “Such a good pet.” He says.

You like hearing that. “Coming on my cock, and in front of your friend who is in love with you.” Aemond grins cruelly.

You avoid looking at Daros and him both as you feel shame and clear regret building inside of you.

“Don't feel bad, little pet. You didn't stand a chance. That cunny wanted a cock so badly. I never had a bedmate that desperate.” you refuse to acknowledge him.

The prince takes his cock out now that it's cleaned. You sit back on the bed, your thoughts racing. Prince Aemond dresses himself, clearly not intending to stay with you. “Go sit against the headboard.” He tells you.

You obey at first.

Until you see he is holding chains. Your smile dies and your worry grows as you already shake your head. “No, this is not needed. I don't need-”

“I do not trust you to stay. I liked fucking you, pet. So I have no intention to let you go.” He reveals as he comes a little closer.

“What about me? What will happen now that you made me watch her fuck?” Daros asks, spitting out the question and glaring at you.

“You sound angry.” Aemond concludes with a smile.

“I am.”

To you he glares. “I can't believe I liked you. You are no better than your sisters. You are just as much of a slut. It should have been obvious when you killed your father you’d do anything for this sick fuck.’’ He says. ‘’O, and your mother? If she knew this, she would be disappointed. Yes, she is alive.’’

You receive the one after the other heartbreaking news and to hear today of all days that your mother is alive is madness.

And to hear that he knew. Perhaps a day. Perhaps a week. A month? A year? A decade?

It does not matter what he knew.

It does not matter what you know.

And judging by Aemond’s smirk he is not coming to your aid either.

You eye the dagger on the bed, rage controlling you and for the first time in your life, you feel free as you rush at it, grab it from the bed and prepare to stab someone with it.

At first Aemond looks afraid, scared and worried. You rush over, you take a leap and stab, right into the heart of…

Daros.

Aemond releases a gasp of surprise as you drive the dagger through Daros’s heard, rapidly stabbing him when tears and snot stream out of your eyes and nose. Your naked body becomes soaked with blood as you take your anger and frustration out on Daros.

You don’t stop until it has become awfully quiet around you. Aemond has taken a seat in a chair, watching you intrigued with clear lust in his good eye, playing with his eyepatch. You look down at the man you saw once as a brother, aware that you killed him.

You drop the knife.

You begin to cry.

And you shake his body so violently that a cut of his arm rolls off, that you somehow sliced off.

‘’Daros?’’ Come back. Fuck. No. No!’ You scream at his corpse, hitting him across his face with weak little slaps.

He is gone.

Aemond stands up when you scream, perhaps at the gods, perhaps at yourself. He kneels down beside you, kissing your bloodied hands and licking away the tears and blood in your face, his hands quickly disarming you before you can stab him. “I love it when you surrender to your dark desires.” He whispers. ‘’Now get to bed. I won’t ask again.’’ He ties you up and leaves you there, bloodied and naked. He walks past the corpse of Daros, chuckling before he takes the dagger out.

You watch as Aemond cuts loose his head, and kicks against it, sending it in the direction of the door. He picks the head up as if it's a ball and locks the door behind him when he leaves, leaving you in a confused and utterly broken mental state.

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