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ewanmitchelll · 3 months

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Imagine Taylor Swift’s Songs (XX): No Body No Crime.

Imagine you uncover Aemond Targaryen’s crimes… until you fall in his trap.

Warnings: smut, incest, drama, fluffy endings.

***

• He did it. He did it…

You enjoy more than what’s appropriate how he indecently holds you, like an unprotected boy who needs assurance of firm, truthful affections. Your body is warmer when his strong arms snake around your waist, unintentionally brushing against your nipples underneath your nightgown.

You wish you did not feel it. It’s sinful, notwithstanding this is an old practice in your family. However, under the sphere of influence of your mother makes you feel repulse at it. Or it’s what you tell yourself since the repulse is only because he doesn’t see you the way you might.

That night you cannot breathe. His breath is hot against your neck, you hear his snore, and you wish you were as pure as your elder sister Helaena. But it appears your innocence exists only on the outside.

As Aemond presses his body on you, your thoughts drift at an alternative universe where he would kiss your neck and explore your nipples with his hands… whispering things you’ve only heard doing with his…whore.

You grumble under your breath, turning subtly and in quiet riot on him. Then the fire dragon dies subsequently at the sweet face your eyes scan, that face whose features conceal an alluring darkness that draws you to him.

Your twin. Your other half, your partner, whose soul is linked to yours for reasons unknown. As you watch him sleep, with no eye-patch to his away his scar, you read through him.

You know why he comes at you instead of her and this gives you small percentages of pleasure, a deliciously tasted illusion upon which the desires of your heart drink to.

As you pull away discreetly the few silver locks that fall on his face, you mumble, lips barely touching:

“Must you always beseech war, my prince?”

And you feel tempted to add that in you he finds peace, but you say nothing, not when you spot tragedy crudely exposed. When he hugs you, it is as if moon and sun meet. It is as if an eclipse rises…

***

• We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine. Este's been losing sleep. Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity. She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth". "That ain't my jewelry on our joint account". No, there ain't no doubt. I think I'm gonna call him out…

“Infidelity is not always physical, but an aching that begins at the heart”, your sister muses at you in one of these days she gets into your brain like a prophetess.

She looks into your eyes as if she can read your future. What she may not know is that you too possess the ability of dreaming. It just comes perhaps in other shades.

“Treason often starts with ill intentions, whichever these may be”, you agree.

Yet, the conversation disrupts something that troubles your conscience. Specially when you know what he’s about to do, what path Aemond is going to take and in many ways it’s treacherous and horrendous. But you are comprehensive at it.

Later the same day, as you walk to the gardens, Aemond comes to meet you. It’s a sight to behold, the embodiment of innocence—a stark contrast to the darkness there is in him.

“Y/Nickname”, his husky voice startles you, but he sees how easily affected you are towards him.

A good observer like him needs little to see. He’s aware of how your body reacts to his, how synchronized you both are, sharing a unique connection that always binds him to you.

“Aemond, darling”, you turn abruptly and without thinking twice you run to him.

He smiles to himself as he is engulfed in your arms, tasting a rare sentiment of peace that only your company provides him. For some reason, the prince admonishes himself for letting be easily dragged into your kindness, mesmerized by your alluring beauty that matches his dragon fire.

Cleaning his thoughts, Aemond has to remember himself the reason why he’s here. Reluctantly he parts, his heart aching when detecting sadness in your eyes, aware of how attached you are to him.

“I need a favor.”

“Of course you do.”

Aemond blushes, fighting away remorse.

“Don’t look at me like that, my sweet. You know you’re the only one of this family I trust, aside Helaena, but it’s with you I am connected to, emotionally and carnally.”

You sigh, hands resting on your waist. Aemond’s good eye seems to see you as who you are, not as the epitome of handsomeness, but as the woman you’ve become. The gown you dress is silk green with short sleeves, showing some cleavage. He swallows, fighting away this strange urge of possessing you right here right there.

“Tell me, what’s it you require of me?”

“How you speak it makes me sound I only come for you to pursuit redemption for my sins. Though now that it occurs me this may be true.” He chuckles, but there is no joy in him. It’s when his true self comes to surface. “I think I’ve started a war.”

You barely blink, and every sexual tension in the air dissipates as you pale. You are suddenly dizzy and Aemond has to hold your elbows, leading you to a spot nearby.

“D-Do not think ill of me, I ask you this”, he begs, never before looking nor sounding so fragile.

You soften at him, cupping his cheeks before resting your forehead against his.

“I shall not, this I assure you. I suspect I’ve always sensed somehow due to our bond.”

Aemond’s long hands stroke your hair before sliding to your neck, there hesitating for a few seconds before breaking into an embrace in complete ignorance of how deeply he affects you.

“How can you be so good to me? I do not deserve you, Y/Nickname. You’re the only one who understands me”, so he snorts. “How can this be?”

You should not say it, nor think it, but Aemond is not entirely surprised when he hears these next words of you:

“You are my other half, Aemond. I could never refuse you anything.”

You close your eyes, subtly agreeing to be the one to hold his darkest secrets. The prince doesn’t know it yet, but he loves you for it.

***

• I think he did it but I just can't prove it. No, no body, no crime but I ain't letting up until the day I die. No, no. I think he did it. No, no. He did it…

You are bathing yourself at a lake with your sister. With no witnesses, both of you are deprived of your clothes, chuckling at such a defiant moment, aware this would raise your mother’s sharp reprehension.

It’s when he comes, since Aemond is sent to summon you and Helaena. The moment he finds you with your long locks completely wet, exposed in such a state under the sunlights… he freezes.

Aemond’s good eye stares at the happiness glinting behind your lilac gaze, watching how you throw yourself at the grass before standing and getting ready to dive in. He lingers at the sight of your firm breasts and large hips, good thighs to hold on.

His body may react at it. Worse than being mesmerized by you is that he’s caught staring at you.

“Aemond!”, you let a cry out, instantly going red before diving in.

Trying to conceal his boner, Aemond too blushes. Not until now he realized how easily you affect him. He clears his throat before saying:

“Mother is summoning.”

And then like the wind he disappears, leaving a hole where there is a heart beating in your chest.

“I think he’s fond of you”, says Helaena in giggles. “Marry him and the merrier you’ll be, dear sister.”

You hate how red your face is.

“Allow me to disagree, my beloved. Haven’t you heard he’s taken to his bed a bastard named Alys Rivers?”

The Queen laughs quietly at the jealousy that escapes your reasoning. You swim for a little more before getting yourselves dressed, back to meet your mother.

“Carnal needs are hardly met by the ones of the heart, my sister.” And then, before you two disappear into the castle, she mysteriously whispers: “You are the one he needs the most… considering the wayward path the gods chose him to follow.”

• Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen and I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene. Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me ("She was with me dude"). Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy…

You omit his illicit affairs, not judging him for doing so. You watch as your mother, Queen Alicent, scowls at her dysfunctional children for their misbehavior on a war she attempted to prevent—more likely as she addresses the word to Aegon and Aemond.

Civil war has brokered out and the Seven Kingdoms bleed for Lucerys Velaryon. However, no judgement is found in your eyes as Aemond is scowled upon.

“You should be married to a noblewoman by now”, she says. “Perhaps a Baratheon lady, since this is a house loyal to us. Don’t give me this look, Aemond Targaryen, after disgracing us before the Gods.”

You pity his future wife, knowing his heart and flesh are tied to another woman. Aemond sees how quiet you’ve been in comparison to Aegon and Helaena’s odd bubbling and Daeron’s impatience at how this gleefully dinner is going.

“No body has been found”, you dare to raise your voice and instantly every sound dies. Aemond raises eyebrows and so do the others. You blush, but persist in your speech. “How can anyone think Aemond did it?”

Alicent looks at her daughter, puzzled by your sudden defense of your brother.

“My darling child, I’ve always judged you had put your brain to better use.”

You tilt your head.

“Why, my mother. Has the prince my brother spoken anything at all? You assumed he committed a crime by facts that were brought out by our enemies. Give him some credit!”

Opting to believe that your staunch belief that Aemond is innocent by all costs comes rather from your unshakable faith than your cynicism, Alicent limits herself to laugh away your arguments.

“Y/N, I am not tolerating this. Be quiet and meddle not where you are not concerned!”

It’s enough to cast a shadow in your rarely sentimental display. Disappointed, you are back to your seat, missing the thankful gaze Aemond shoots at you.

Yet, restless as you are, the crowed room does not silence you…

Until Gerold Hightower, unusual guest and witness of his Targaryens cousins squabbling, invites you for a dance. This angers the prince, who projects his frustrations at his mother.

Whilst the world burns in flames, you release your energy when you take your cousin’s hand and let be led him to dance, tired of caring, tired of feeling feelings that are the result of others deeds, you just want to be conducted out of this troubled world.

It’s late night when Aemond comes to your privy chambers. He needs you, his partner, his other half. The prince needs to reach his particular heaven, to gravitate to his sun.

You are just slipping inside the soft Dornish sheets when he follows you.

“Goodness me!”, you let a cry out when seeing Aemond next to you. “Aemond! I hate when you do that!”

“You don’t!”, he chuckles before poking your sides. “I’ve always done it and you never complained it.”

You squeak, falling into laughters as he tickles your side until you are breathless and laying on his lap.

“What brings you here, Aem?”, you ask him eventually rolling back on your side of bed.

He throws himself back at your bed, hands behind his neck, never unlocking the gaze you hold.

“I missed you”, he takes your fingers and interlock with his. “Your sweet disposition, your wit… everything I cannot be, the embodiment of virtues I cannot possess…”

You turn abruptly at him, and Aemond realizes how beautiful you look under candlelight, with a few locks dropping on your brow. He promptly takes them and puts behind your ear, diving in your lilac eyes and seeing the protest that has been forming in your mind.

“You are good. I know my prince, my other half.”

His gaze lingers at you, but lowers too to your neck. You still wear the necklace he gave you many moons ago, the day you reached ten and three summers. Aemond smirks, peeking your pink nipples that are this close to leave your nightgown.

“You do not what you say”, he quickly looks away, now stroking your cheek. “Such a faithful woman.”

“What a faithless man you’ve become”, you put him to an embrace, caressing his long locks, playing with your hand as he nuzzles against your neck, which makes you shake lightly.

Aemond cannot help a smile, feeling what you feel. This unusual connection never ended, he sees it now. It remains strong enough to erase him… the woman he’d publicly made his paramour.

As if you read his thoughts, you speak with a hint of disdain in your voice:

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”

Aemond detects the poorly dissimulated jealousy he finds in you and it makes him smile. You two really complete the other.

“What makes you think I have another place to be at?”

He now plays with the necklace and you pretend you do not feel that old ache rising to burn what’s between your legs. Aemond, however, spots the moment your nipples get hard. He sighs in content, pleased to have his confirmation. But the prince is in no rush to stop enjoying it.

He remembers the day he had an inter course with lady Alys and it does scare him that he came to climax thinking of you.

Aemond blushes at the memory.

“We all know the woman you are devoted to”, you say, gently turning against him in a manner to push him away.

“Come on, now, love. Do not do that”, he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder, snaking his arms around your waist. “Who am I without my fiercest defender?”

Gently, he places a kiss on top of your shoulder, eyes glued at your face, part of him praying not to be shooed away. You don’t do so, but neither give in as he hopes.

“Somebody’s husband and paramour”, you snark sarcastically, folding your arms.

Aemond chuckles, between annoyed and amused at your words. You try to ignore how suddenly his hand rest in your belly, pushing gently your nightgown as in a way to make you look at him.

You feel your breasts are about to leave the cloth that covers each, so you are about to adjust yourself when you find yourself locked in his arms. It doesn’t help you how he puts a knee to part your legs and discreetly lay in your womanhood.

Which of course messes with your reason, but you still hesitate.

“What do you think you are doing? Do you take me as your whore?!”, you frown, already moody because fire now burns your belly.

“Never”, Aemond scoffs at you, speaking more seriously now. “I meant every word I said. You are dear to me, my sweet loving sister to whom I devout myself to.”

You sigh, unsure what to say. You rest your head against his shoulder now, unknowing what to say.

“I think you keep too much to yourself”, he whispers, gently pressing his knee into your womanhood, earning a gasp that makes him smirk.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”, you protest rather weakly.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?”, he looks down at you, his fingers now stroking your face before letting his index finger brush over your rosy lips.

“Notice what?”, by now your voice betrays you and almost unconsciously you rub onto his knee.

Aemond holds back a heavy sigh, sensing a boner growing the moment you suck his finger.

“You know what”, he takes it out of your lips and lifting your nightgown, slowly inserts it in your core. “There is no need to repress yourself, my love.”

You flutter your eyelashes, barely believing in what is happening. Your mouth forms an “o” as his finger investigates you, sliding farther before being joined by a second finger.

“Heavens!”, you throw your head back at the pillow, his gaze burning you.

“Yes”, he looks at your mouth, wondering what’s like to kiss it, to taste your tongue, but the prince is patient. Even if it arouses him to an unbearable point where his boner is troubling his self control. “Burn with me. It’s something you have always wanted haven’t you?”

He smirks as you arch your back, giving in completely.

“How’d you know?”, you ask in between whimpers.

Closing the distance between your lips, he says:

“What you feel I feel. The fire burning you inside, consuming desperately all that you heave…”, he bites your bottom lip, increasing the pace of his fingering. “I felt it too. You should have woken me up, told me countless times…”

“Aemond!”, you whimper under his good care of you.

No words are needed to be said. The moment his lips collide against yours coincides with when your legs are heavier, as if you are levitating, and then…

Every tension dissipates.

“I love you”. Aemond whispers against your ear, cuddling you protectively.

Rolling onto him, you kiss him again.

“I love you”, you mewl under his care, locking him still with your legs as his hands help removing you out of your nightgown.

“That day I spotted you at the lake”, says he, whose famine hands are now pursuing your freed nipples, which make you moan quite loudly. “Got me into another woman’s bed that wasn’t yours.”

You purr under his words, forsaking reason and good sense at your best. It is insensible to fight your heart’s desire, to not be consumed by the fire as he burns you with the other part of you he possesses so well.

“Aemond”, you moan out his name as his hands begin to play with your weak spots.

When he’s with you, no need there is to conceal who he truly is. His eye-patch is not there to hide away his scar, as well as others begin to be seen when your hand removes his clothes.

“Will you stay?”, you ask, insecurity shadowing the moment m.

Aemond looks into your eyes as he holds your face with both hands.

“Yes, my sweet princess. I shall make you my wife…”

“Lawfully”, you hint at refusing becoming his mistress.

Aemond chuckles.

“Lawfully”, he agrees.

So he kisses you.

***

• They think she did it but they just can't prove it. She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it. No, no body, no crime…

You are there when another crime happens. Aemond has been committed to his word. You are going to be espoused by your twin, thus respecting the Targaryen tradition that has been followed for ages.

But to every great delight is followed by a greater torment.

You are the one looking after your niece and nephew with your sister today. She’s been occupied with sewing and you are noticing sadness growing so suddenly in her features. You know what cause is there—you dreamed about it too, the loss of the precious Jaehaera and her twin Jaehaerys. The image daunts you.

As if moved by strange instinct, you summon them:

“My darlings, come here. I want to show you something…”

It happens very fast. Before the twins come to you, the royal privy chambers are taken by two strangers. Lowborn men dressing nothing but wickedness in their eyes take possess of the heirs of the crown.

“My children!”, Helaena squeaks. “Lords, please! Give them back to me!”

You try to get to the door, but not only it’s locked as the man who holds Jaehaerys slaps hard on your face, making you fall.

“An eye for an eye… But maybe this can be prevented if you choose one of your children to be saved!”

You panic, and so does Helaena. The older one that smells bad and holds a fanciful dagger says:

“Well? Beauty is not eternal, Madame. So perhaps you’d like to continue the lineage with your prince and let your princess attend the divine call?”

“This is not a divine call”, you scream. “It’s a crime!”

You try to find a weapon to avenge your sister, who is too nervous and shocked, having a breakdown at the scene, but the next thing you know you get yourself to a fight.

The next event was not predicted by Helaena. You jump into the back of the man who’s kidnapping Jaehaerys and thus release the boy. As you try to steal the man’s dagger, you manage to hurt him, which makes his partner get himself distracted and promoted to help him.

Whatever the case, you are not Aemond and your lack of strength is only an advantage to cause distraction. It works, but at what cost?

Soon the blade meets your belly and screams are heard like a haunted ghost throughout the castle. The sound is not yours, but Helaena’s.

Your beloved sister is about to lose her best friend for the sake of a dynasty that was damned from the beginning.

Your mind goes blank, though. All you remember is the days spent in relatively peace, quiet and studying, always omitting Aemond’s sins and ensuring these never reached your mother’s knowledge.

As you gasp in pain, weeping silently as your murderer twists the dagger in you. Believing your body will be disappeared after your last breath, Aemond will not know a crime has occurred.

Is your sacrifice worth of this dusted and dysfunctional family you are part of? When thinking of the safety of your nephews and the love you received of Aemond, you believe so.

Then you comfortably slip out of your conscience.

***

For some reason, you are spared by the Gods. Aemond is there next to you, concern stamping his features. It softens though when you move your hand, surprised to find it holding his.

“Y/N! Y/Nickname!”, you see tears in his good eye when he reaches for you, peppering your face with kisses. “I thought I lost you. I…”

He could not say another word. Still shaken for finding yourself alive and well, you have nothing to say as he rocks you in his arms. Only then you look at him, confused.

“What happened? I thought…”, and then you remember the events of that evening and you start to panic. “Aemond! The children, where are…?”

“Shh, shh…”, says the prince, kissing your lips gently. “No need to stress yourself over this matter, love. All has been resolved and our nephews are well. You are well and y his is mostly important.”

You snuggle onto his arms, weeping silently. Aemond understands what you’ve gone through, having spent the last days in great distress. He could not fight a war knowing you are not well. He could not bear in mind a world where you are not part of it.

Later you’d know Aemond rescued you because of the strong bond you two share. When he was about to fly Vhagar, he felt an excruciating pain flinch over his body, a terror that tormented his reason. Quickly he understood this was about you, that you needed him.

By the time he arrived at the Great Tower of the Red Keep, you have been just under a terrible attack that nearly costed your wife. The attackers escaped but Aemond hunted them down—after ensuring you were under the best care of the best men of the realm—and personally ensured to execute such criminals.

As he did, Aemond knew who was the responsible for sending these two after his nephew and niece. The prince soon found his uncle Daemon’s whereabouts and a fight followed—to no avail, although Daemon was forced to seek exile.

The blacks are now momentarily defeated and now all of your family are present in Aemond’s privy bedchambers—to where you were taken—looking after you.

“My dear girl. How imprudent of you to behave the way you did”, Alicent is weeping since the moment she saw you are awake. “I frightened for you. I prayed for your soul. I… My sweet Y/N! I have no words for what you’ve done and the great pain you made me suffer! Do you care so little about your life?”

Before you could give her an answer, which includes an apology, another teary relative comes to your sight. The Queen Helaena rushes to your side before carefully holding you in her arms.

“I didn’t see it coming, please forgive me!”

“There’s nothing to forgive. What it matters is that they are well… aren’t they?”

“They are”, a male, embargoed voice joins the party. It’s Aegon’s. “Y/N, your loyalty has always been the most admirable trait of a sweet heart none but Helaena possesses genuinely. Thank you.”

It’s an emotional scene, a reward for a duty you’ve never expected to earn. Aemond is there by your left side, him too sharing your sentiments. It is clear by now that what one feels, so does the other.

But what a greater victory there is to rejoice now than the harmony of the Dowager Queen and her children?

You know it… because you’ve dreamt it.

***

• Epilogue.

Harrenhal Castle, many years later.

No more shadows nor sorrows since war came to an end. For once every enemy is defeated and the king reigns uncontestedly with his family by his side.

Politics here, politics there, a rival to your man’s love is nowhere to be seen. Some of the servants believe you possess the same wickedness there is in Lord Aemond’s heart, for since you and him were married, Alys Rivers has gone to dust. Where has she gone, the ambitious witch?

A name that doesn’t remain in anyone’s mind when your Valyrian beauty is seen inside and out of the Castle. You are a good landowner and you do your charity.

You earn the epithet of “the good lady wife of Aemond, the kinslayer”. But you do not mind it. Not when you rule your household… and him.

Whilst children are fast asleep, you are found in great intimacy with your lord husband. In nude state, you sit at the edge of your bed, subduing him at your will.

“Aemond!”, you throw your head back, going insane at the wonderfulness his tongue does inside your womanhood, dancing around your clit until he drinks all the liquid you provide him. “Oh, oh Aem…!”

You gently push his face to your core, arching your back as that familiar wave rises from your already levitating thighs… before crushing in your belly. And you almost scream, had he not placed a hand over your mouth.

Soon after, he doesn’t let you take a break and promptly slides inside you, making you whimper and squint in surprise.

“My lady is soaked!”, Aemond pushed you by your thighs, his tone so indecently hot that you squirm and drop back in bed. “Goodness me, woman!”

The prince groans loud, throbbing right into you, watching you with lust and desire as you are about to get undone again. Specially when he intercalates his deep thrusts with his fingers.

“Sing it to me”, he now inclines his body over yours, both of you soaked. Aemond wraps a hand around your neck, holding it the way you like him to all the whilst slapping your bum respectfully. He’s about to come undone himself. “Yes, wife!”

And to his surprise, you lock him with your legs and turn positions. Barely you begin to ride him, though, when both of you reach orgasm.

“This was so good!”, Aemond cries out before making out with you passionately.

He then helps you come to his side, and there your bodies remain interlocked.

“I think we conceived”, you muse mischievously.

Aemond is cuddling onto you, holding you tightly close. You don’t mind his sweat, so mixed to yours that smell as one. You love him intently so and he feels it.

“I don’t mind if we do”, he chuckles. “The more, the merrier.”

One exchange of glances is enough to express how one feels for the other. It makes you happy, it contents him likewise. No signs of war, no crimes to be slandered of. No more.

It’s all good. Perfectly good…

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