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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months

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Daemon x oc, where oc is alicent's 4th child and her favorite, but the oc also inherent Otto's scheming skills and so much better than him and overly can't stand rhaenrya and knows that rhaenrya likes daemon so she goes for daemon and daemon falls harder for the oc AKKKK and rhaenrya pov where she realizes that she is losing daemon to her much younger half-sister, please 🥺🫶

Half-Blood Rivalry || D. Targaryen x oc

GIF by @mad-witch-moon DIVIDERS by @straywords

a/n: tysm for this request!!! anons please continue to send me requests pls!!! I hope you guys are happy for Catarina to play oc as Rhaella :) also please imagine that this takes place in ep 2. when rhaella is born is around the time daemon is banished for taking rhae to the brothel. rhaenyra hasn’t married laenor or has children yet.

The youngest child of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen was sweet Rhaella. When Rhaenyra first held the girl when she was only a babe, she had a strange feeling about her half-sister. As years went by and both girls no doubt got older, Rhaenyra could not seem to shake off the uneasy feelings she felt towards her youngest sister.

“Happy Name Day, sweet child” Alicent goes on her tippy toes to kiss her youngest and—anyone with eyes could see— favourite child. “Thank you, mother,” Rhaella kissed her cheek. It was then her father’s turn. Rhaella and Viserys had always had a complicated relationship, the two never seemed to see eye to eye, quite similar with her other siblings.

Rhaella and her siblings knew that their father didn’t favour them as much as he does with Rhaenyra. Nonetheless, Viserys was still her father and he cared for him.

“Happy name day, sister” Rhaenyra bursts through the doors of the throne room with a drunken smile. Everyone in the room stared at the platinum white haired Princess in shock. Her appearance was dishevelled and she reeked of alcohol. It was only morning.

“Are you quite alright Rhaenyra?” Alicent raises an eyebrow as she looks the Targaryen up and down. Rhaella lets out a scoff. Typical Rhaenyra. “Quite so, I wouldn’t dare miss seeing my dear sister on this special day” She raises a cup towards the younger who rolls her tongue against her cheek in annoyance.

Rhaella looks to Viserys, a wide grin on his face making her scoff. Rhaenyra somehow always seems to pull Rhaella’s buttons without even realising. In her opinion, she was a stuck up Princess that was never grateful of what was given to her.

Rhaella could not stand her older half-sister, maybe it was because of the fact that their father always placed Rhaenyra on a pedestal and could never do anything wrong in his eyes. Placing a fake smile on her pretty face, Rhaella speaks up. “Thank you Rhaenyra, your presence here means so much to me” She pops a grape in her mouth.

Otto lowly chuckles yet shakes his head lightly at his granddaughter’s tone. There was no denying that out of his four grandchildren, Rhaella too was his favourite. The young Targaryen was very much like him in many ways, even better in some aspects you could say.

There was silence at the table for a bit as they all ate, when all of a sudden, the doors once again opened. This time, Ser Harrold walked in. “Your Grace, he’s back” Was all the kingsguard said. Rhaella and her siblings stop chewing their food and look to their father.

Viserys wore a shocked face before standing up quickly and walking away. Rhaella looks to her mother in confusion as she gives her a sad look and rubs her arm. “Father, where are you going?” The young Targaryen turns in her seat as she watches him walk away. What even stung the young girl was the fact that he didn’t respond.

“Daemon’s back” Rhaenyra says to herself with wide eyes. “Don’t be silly, uncle Daemon has not returned to court in how many years?” Aegon questions as Rhaella replies, “Since I was a babe” She shrugs. “But who else would Ser Harrold have referred to? Did you see father’s face,” She humorously scoffs, “That was Daemon alright” Rhaenyra shrugs.

“Enough talk about your uncle. It is Rhaella’s name day and I want you all behaved for her birthday celebrations today” Alicent sternly speaks before continuing to eat. The Targaryen siblings all give each other one final look before going back to their meal.

It was the night of Rhaella's name day where a huge feast was held. Alicent demanded the celebration to be extravagant for her favourite child. You could have mistaken the event as the King's name day.

Rhaella sat beside her mother and her siblings beside her, Rhaenyra on Viserys' side. When her father stood up to announce a speech, he was interrupted by a figure walking into the throne room.

It was no one other than Daemon. Young Rhaella had not seen him all day, him showing up there was her first time seeing him really as she could not recall him when she was a born.

Of course, the Targaryen often heard stories about her uncle. He held a bad reputation and yet everytime anyone would speak of him, Rhaella always found herself wanting to hear more about her uncle.

He sauntered in with a smirk on his face. "Brother, I thought you weren't going to come" Viserys puts a smile on his face as Daemon stands in front of the table, his hands clasped together. Rhaella could have sworn she saw a glint of mischievous in his eyes.

She looks up towards her father, than to her half-sister. Rhaenyra had a look on her face that Rhaella couldn't quite fathom out. "And miss my dear nieces' birthday celebration? How could I do that to Rhaenrya" Alicent gasps in disbelief and Aemond chuckles under his breath, a kick under the table from Otto shut him up.

"I think your mistaken dear uncle, it is not Rhaenyra you should be wishing a happy birthday, but me," Rhaella irked, crossing her arms. Daemon's eyes move to her. She watched him study her before a grin makes it to his lips. "Apologies...." He trails off, "Rhaella." "My brother failed to mention which niece of mine was celebrating. After all, I have little memory of his children before I left."

Rhaella nods her head politely, he was offered a seat at the end of the table near Rhaenyra. She couldn't help but notice her half-sisters' wanting eyes to Daemon. The young Targaryen knew of what had happened when she was born. In terms of Daemon and Rhaenyra.

But she did not expect her to still long for her uncle, after all, Daemon was gone for nearly 20 years. The whole time as they all feasted, Rhaella felt eyes burning into her and everytime she looked, Daemon shamelessly stares with a smirk on his face.

"I think I would like to dance," Rhaella says before standing up and making her way to her sworn knight, Ser Harwin. "A dance Ser Harwin?" The princess looks up at him with a smile. "It is my pleasure, princess" He smiles back as they start to dance, not knowing a certain Targaryen's eyes were fixated on the two the entire time.

"Your daughter is quite pleasing to look at, Alicent" Daemon chuckles to himself, his eyes still not leaving Rhaella. Alicent nearly choked on her drink as she glares at him. "My sister is nearly half my age uncle!" Rhaenyra laughs.

"Mhm, a shame indeed" He mutters as he taps his fingers on the table. Rhaenyra stares at her uncle in disbelief. The princess opens her mouth but shuts it again when Daemon stands up and makes his way through the crowd to where Rhaella and Ser Harwin were dancing.

"Might I have this dance, princess?" Daemon whispers against her ears as she breathed heavily from dancing. Rhaella gives a small nod to Harwin as he backs off and now dances with Daemon. "You know, you've grown quite alot," He starts off. "Thank you for pointing the obvious uncle," She rolls her eyes playfully, "Into such a, beautiful woman" Daemon finishes.

Rhaella smiles, "Thank you, I assume-" She was cut off by Rhaenyra who taps her shoulder, "Can I steal our dear uncle, sister?" She questions as she doesn't even bother looking at Rhaella, only Dameon.

The young Targaryen looks between the two before nodding her head. She walks away not before locking eyes with her uncle before his gaze floats back to Rhaenyra. "Did you just get told to bugger off, sister?" Aegon laughs as Rhaella approaches the table and smacks his head. "Ow!" He groans, rubbing his head. Alicent shoots a look to the eldest.

"I believe our dear Rhaenyra is still infatuated with Daemon" Rhaella tilts her head. "Not surprised, the way she was eyeing him the whole time, I thought she'd eat uncle on the spot" Halaena says concerned as Rhaella and her brothers laughed loudly. Deep down, Rhaella couldn't push aside a strange feeling as she watched her sister and her uncle dancing and laughing together.

“Do you jest, sister?” Rhaella’s mouth hangs open at Rhaenyra’s idea that she had created in her head. “What? Daemon and I are made for each other. We have blood of the dragons coursing through us. Not to forget, he wanted me before he was banished by Father” She paces back and forth in her room.

The young Targaryen only blinked a few times before laughing. Rhaenyra glares at her younger sister. “S-sorry,” Rhaella wipes the tears that escaped from laughter, “Do you still think uncle longs for you? Forgive me for saying this Rhaenyra, but you are no longer a maiden.” Rhaella tilts her head.

“Daemon might have lusted over you at one point but yet again, he did take you to that brothel and just left you there. And now he’s back after what? twenty years and you still think he has his eyes on you?” Rhaella’s jabs stung the elder. Her words were like knives to her heart.

“And what do you suppose? That he’s got eyes for you now?” Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow at the younger. A small smirk forms on Rhaella’s lips, “Time will tell” “Don’t tell me you like Daemon, Rhaella. You just practically met him!” Rhaenyra’s voice loudens. To piss her even more, Rhaella simply shrugged with a playful smile.

“Daemon would make a dutiful Husband wouldn’t he? All that experience and….. well you know. Plus, mother has been pestering me about marriage. What better way to honour her wishes of me staying close to home then marrying our deal uncle?” Rhaenyra scoffs at her half-sister. “Daemon will never want you, you wouldn’t even dare to approach him with those silly intentions-“

Rhaella stands up and storms to her older, and still slightly taller, sister. “Watch me dear sister. Watch me marry Daemon in our old valyrian ways and bear his children. Watch me live a life you only ever got to dream of.” She calmy says yet still, venom laced her words.

Rhaenyra stood still in shock at her sister’s words before opening her mouth, “You are a horrid person.” She said through gritted teeth. Rhaella only wickedly smiles before turning around and walking off. As soon as the door slammed shut, Rhaenyra grabbed the closest object which was a vase and aimed it at the door, shards flying everywhere.

Rhaella stood outside the door with a proud smirk on her face. It was finally time to put her older sister into her own place. She walked through the hallways of her home before she bumped into something hard. “Watch where-“ Rhaella shuts her mouth as she’s met with his figure. “you’re going..” She trails as he smiles at her.

“Rhaenyra is still in her bedchambers” She mumbles massaging her head. Before she could move to the side to leave, he takes ahold of her forearm. “It is not your sister I wish to see but you, princess”

“What could you possibly want to see me for, uncle?” She spoke, her arms folded and her head slightly tilted. “Am I not allowed to spend some time with my niece? After all, I know nothing of you” He says, his eyes wandering nowhere near her face.

Rhaella smirked. She hummed before replying. “I’ve always wanted to her your stories come from you, and more possibly-“ She was cut off by him, “You’ve heard about me and my stories?” He questions.

Rhaella playfully rolls her eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself uncle, your stories are the only entertaining thing to listen to around here” She chuckles. Daemon laughs, “Might you like to accompany Caraxes and I for a ride?” He suggests with smug smile.

1 month later…

“Where’s Daemon and Rhaella?” Rhaenyra looks around the table noticing their absent once again at the breakfast table. “Didn’t you hear, sister? Daemon’s taking Rhaella to Dragonstone today for a few months” Halaena says with a sweet smile as Rhaenyra’s jaw hangs open.

“D-Daemon’s taking Rhaella away? To Dragonstone?” She stutters as she processes what was happening. Dragonstone was supposed to be for her and Daemons. Not Rhaellas’.

“Why hasn’t anyone thought to tell me this?” She bangs her hand on the table in frustration. “I didn’t think it would concern you Princess, The Prince and Princess simply want to get to know each other more” Alicent speaks up.

“Get to know each other more? I don’t see why they can’t do that here, why must they be at Dragonstone. Father! Did you approve of this?” She looks to Viserys in disbelief. “My child, these are Daemon’s wishes. And besides, it is finally time that Rhaella chooses a Husband”

“A husband.” The princess scoffs as everyone on the table watch her, anticipating what was going to happen next. “I wanted Daemon to be my husband at her age and what did you do?! You banished him! Why does my whore of a sister get to do what ever she pleases!” Rhaenyra stands up in her seat as does Alicent. They could have sworn they saw steam leave her ears.

“How dare you call your sister that!” Viserys too stands up and hits his hand on the table loudly. “Rhaella is of age and you were not. You were the heir at the time and choosing Daemon as King consort? The realm would have been up in flames by now! My daughter. Your sister! Needs a husband sooner than later. Daemon is content with his position. Those twenty years where ever he was did him some good. Rhaella needs someone like him to confide to”

Viserys sits back down with a sigh, Rhaenyra only stood there in disbelief, shock and hatred for her half sister. Without uttering another word, she excused herself from the table and left. “She’s lost her mind” Alicent shakes her head.

Rhaenyra stormed out of the castle and into the dragon pit. She immediately paused as she witnessed Rhaella and Daemon in each other’s arms as they pat Caraxes. Rhaenyra was never able to do that the blood wyrm, he just never seemed to accept her. But Rhaella on the other hand.

Before she was could storm closer to the two a voice stops her. “Depriving your own sister of happiness?” Otto tempts her, “Just look at how happy they look with each other. I’ve never seen Daemon smile so much, have you?”

“He smiled plenty with me before” She mutters. “Ah there it is, before.” Rhaenyra glares at Otto. “Before he liked you, now he wishes to runaway with my granddaughter and marry her.” “H-he’s not marrying her” She chuckles to herself.

“Oh but he is my dear, he even asked for the King and Queen’s blessing. Your sister, much more youthful, smarter-“ “What are you trying to do?” The princess says desperately, “Stay away from them. Your sister is perfect for him and deserves happiness. Don’t let that childish dream of yours get into the road of them being happy. He’s obviously moved on and so should you Princess” Otto sternly speaks as the two of them look to the couple.

“I lost him once. Now I just lost him again,” The Princess shed a tear as she watched her half-sister get everything she ever hoped and dreamed of.

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neptuneiris · 4 months

Text

Wild Hearts | (One Shot)

'you, it's always been you'

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you and he can't be together, yet the two of you have fallen for each other. but the Gods are not merciful and you both have to let go. but by comparison, your charming prince doesn't think the same way you do.

word count: 8.6k

next part • main masterlist

this is the new idea that I was talking about hehe🤭

i hope you like it a lot and first of all, i want you to know that there will be part two and nothing else. so enjoy this, dig it and let me know your opinion that is the most excited i am to read❤

enjoy and thank you so much for your support beautiful people!

warnings: angst, sex content, arranged married, minor mentions of cuts and blood, smut but not so elaborate.

The Gods can be cruel.

And for some time they have been cruel, especially to you.

You are a lady, yes, but not of a great house enough to be worth anything really big and significant. All your father can offer the Realm is a few soldiers, horses and you.

You are the only daughter of an arranged marriage trying to find their place among the Court. And when you are born a woman, your duty is to marry a suitable man, please him and give birth to as many children as possible.

That was your purpose in coming to King's Landing after Queen Alicent approved your stay at the Red Keep and you became a lady-in-waiting to the highborn ladys who also remain at Court.

But no one, not even you, could have prevented that those plans would no longer be a priority for you the moment you met Prince Aemond Targaryen.

You knew of the one-eyed prince's reputation, as well as his brutality in combat, his cold behavior and also of his recognition as the rider of the largest dragon in the world. But most of all, you knew that his disinterested and sometimes mean personality... was due to how he lost his eye at such a young age.

But that was what he wanted to show all the people of the Court and its visitors.

After such humiliating years of trying to prove himself while at the same time listening to whispers and rumors about him and the pity he caused people for losing his eye, Aemond had no interest in pleasing the Court, so he was just mean, disinterested and cold.

But with you it was all different.

Perhaps it was being alone for so long that he finally got tired of himself and let you in and see his other side, his true side that very few were privileged to see. After all, you were just a lowborn lady who had lived her whole life with the same duty as him: to please the Realm and fill its needs.

But even he never imagined that you and he would understand each other so well.

The gleam of his violet eye, charged with an unusual intensity and determination, the effect he made you feel when you looked back at him and saw his patch covering his left socket and the way he spoke and behaved with you, triggered a wave of unknown emotions and expectations in you.

Your first casual encounter with the prince began in the library, where you exchanged literary tastes. You revealed your fascination for the history of the Andals, as well as shared with him how interesting you found the stories of his family, the Targaryens.

And he shared with you his admiration for history and philosophy as well.

Your casual encounters with him continued in the library and before long, those encounters extended to walks in the gardens. Those walks became a mostly secret habit, where you not only shared equal opinions about books and history, but where you both got to know each other a little more.

And despite the growing friendship and the bonds that intertwined with every conversation and interaction, the weight of undeniable reality persisted.

However, neither of you stopped.

On some trips he had to make, on every return he would always bring some gift for you, whether it was a piece of jewelry or a new book that you don't have access to, to leave secretly in you chamber. Or he would even surprise you with a rare flower that is not seen in the Crowlands, handing it to you so delicately while you tried to keep the blush on your cheeks from being so obvious.

You too tried to look casual when you went to the training yard just to watch him train discreetly, admiring his skills and in every fight smiling proudly every time he made his opponents surrender to him.

And in the midst of everything and everyone, his violet eye always met yours.

At banquets and celebrations it was also the same. The two of you couldn't engage in conversation as such, at least not alone, so all night long, you could only exchange glances and act like complete strangers.

But in the occasional places where the two of you meet and no one else is around, you can act completely free.

He shared with you the story of how he claimed Vhagar, told you more about the history of his ancestors, even taught you some High Valyrian words, while you, who in comparison to him do not possess anything as great and exciting as he does, share with him your thoughts, dreams and tastes.

You both became friends. You became the friend he didn't know he needed and you definitely didn't expect someone like him, especially him, to enjoy your company so much.

And during those years, you couldn't blame the Gods for falling completely in love with the prince.

That was your total freedom and decision, even though you knew how impossible the situation was and that the two of you could probably never be together.

Your house is not worth enough to allow a union between you and a prince of the Realm. It was also useless to suggest it, because the answer would be no, both from the Queen and from your parents, who would have been totally pleased.

But Aemond is destined for more, you know that. And that more is definitely not you and not even close.

And despite this, you couldn't help but imagine as a fleeting dream the moment when he and you unite and become one. A dream that will never happen in which you finally become his wife and you can call him yours, just as he can also call you his, in body and soul.

But that dream is finally shattered when they announce the official betrothal between him and Lady Floris Baratheon.

It was something that was eventually going to happen, you knew it was going to happen, but still, the news takes you by surprise and your heart breaks into pieces, while everyone around you rejoices at the news and approves.

The days following the betrothal announcement become dark and sad for you. You retreat most of your time in your chamber, not having the mood to go out and face the Court, much less him.

And when you had to face the daylight, your steps became stealthy and sparse, trying to keep your distance as much as possible and avoiding any possible encounter with him or anyone else from the royal family.

Aemond of course realized the distance you took and respected it. Not because he knew exactly what happened, but because he thought you had other important matters that did not allow you to share your time with him.

It wasn't until an audience at the Court where the Queen and the Hand of the King attend to the needs of the people, that Aemond finally caught a glimpse of you. But you didn't return his gaze even for a moment. And it is only then that he tries to understand the reason for your distancing, but your eyes avoid any eye contact with him.

You spend several days living in the same way, until one silent morning, Aemond finds you in the library all alone. He knows this is not your favorite time to read, nor is it his, so to say you are avoiding him is clear at that moment.

He opens one of the doors gently and closes it audibly enough to get your attention. He sees perfectly how your whole body tenses and nerves are reflected in your gaze, as well as discontent.

That especially catches his attention and with more purpose he wanders deeper into the library, watching you completely intently and in search of an explanation, wanting to know what he has done to make his presence before you now uncomfortable and annoying to you.

"My prince," you say politely enough, bowing your head to him, but already wanting to leave.

You certainly did not expect him to appear and now you only try to hide from him as much as you can so that he avoids looking at the disappointment on your face.

"My Lady," he says, still with bewilderment in his gaze, taking a couple of steps towards you, "It is good to finally see you after so many weeks without your presence."

You force a small smile, lowering your gaze.

"It's good to see you too, my prince."

His closeness begins to unsettle you, feeling each step he takes towards you as an echo of emotions you'd rather keep hidden. And this is exactly why you desperately seek a way out, a convincing excuse to get away from him.

"If you'll excuse me, my prince, I must retire," you decide to say without further ado, hoping that it will work, "I wish you a good day."

But you only manage to move two steps forward when he quickly blocks your path.

"Wait."

Instantly you watch him intently and in awe, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast, as he looks at you confused and hopeful.

"You've been... absent lately," he says, his words laden with a mixture of confusion and longing.

You swallow hard, averting your gaze from his for a moment. You don't even want to look him in the eye but that would be rude and not appropriate behavior in front of a prince. So you have no choice.

"Yes," you say in a mumble, trying to find an excuse quickly, "I-I've had to take care of some important matters with my family. Also, my responsibilities at Court have kept me occupied with the ladies and other engagements, which has left me less free time, my prince."

And despite your explanation, really not at all convincing, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

"And will you stop saying that?" he inquires in a low tone and you watch him in confusion.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

"Exactly that, my title," he points out deliberately, "There's no one else here, it's just you and me. I don't understand what all the formality is about."

You press your lips together, again averting your gaze from him, as you as well as he, feel that tension between the two of you, a tension completely unfamiliar and one you have never felt before in each other's presence.

You had never felt uncomfortable in his presence and you had never wanted to get away from him before.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to offend you," you observe him with a serious expression, "If you'll excuse me, I have to leave now to attend to an engagement."

Again you try to walk past him and head for the library doors, but Aemond prevents it once again, blocking your path and pushing you back with his determined and clearly annoyed gaze.

"You are avoiding me," he sentences, firm with his words, showing his inconformity, surprising you, "Nothing is the same between both of us anymore and your explanations don't justify it," he says, with annoyance in his voice and a determination, "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

He asks, watching you with a restrained fury, mostly to see how you try to escape from him, while you press your lips together, trying not to let your look show your pain, disappointment and resignation.

But his gaze clings to yours with an intensity charged with longing, wanting to know, while the silence is uncomfortable and you feel again that tension between the two of you. Until finally you decide to break the silence to not quite answer her question, still evading it.

"This is inappropriate. We shouldn't be alone."

You say without looking him in the eye and that only increases the anger inside him more, watching you without understanding.

"Why the shyness all of a sudden?"

You bite your lips, feeling the discontent all over your insides as you say your next words.

"You are betrothed. People might think badly of you and me if they see us here alone."

"Oh, please Y/N," he tells you incredulously, annoyed, "You're acting ridiculous."

"Aemond-

"Why this sudden concern for appearances?" he questions, his tone infused with irritation and annoyance, "Everyone knows we're close, we always have been, and now it's inappropriate?" he inquire, not understanding.

You let out a short breath, closing your eyes for a moment, really not wanting this to be any harder than it probably will be.

"You don't understand," you murmur sadly, biting your lips, "You are betrothed now," you observe him with the resistance to cry in your gaze, "Now there are limits we cannot cross. And it would be best if this were no longer to go on," you say with a lump in your throat, "Your gifts and our meetings must stop, for the good of your future marriage and out of respect for your f-future... wife."

The weight of your words are felt in your tone, with sadness invading you as you utter them, as well as the ending of this... friendship.

Again the heavy silence hangs between the two of you, laden with a sadness and helplessness that neither of you can control. And although Aemond doesn't fully understand your reasons for distancing yourself from him, he knows there is something else that he still can't quite figure it out.

"Y/N, if you're upset because I didn't tell you about the plans my mother and grandsire had for me-

"No, no, I assure you it's not that," you hasten to say, hiding your sadness and disappointment, "It would eventually happen, wouldn't it?" you shrug, trying to smile genuinely towards him, but you can't, "You must do your duty and I will too, sooner or later," you say, lowering your gaze.

Aemond is speechless for a moment, watching you and nothing else, still feeling the guilt inside, while you struggle to contain your true emotions and shout to him in that moment that you love him, let him know once and for all, though it won't change anything.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his barely audible voice full of bewilderment and a hint of pain, "Still I didn't want to-

"No, no... it's not your fault," you say again quickly, struggling to keep your composure, "Truly, it's all right. I should leave now."

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a second to look at you in concert with longing and concern.

"Can we please talk about this? I don't want things to end up like this between us."

"Don't worry," you try to smile genuinely at him, but rather a grimace appears on your lips, "I'm sure we can meet in the hallways and talk at the feast."

You tell him in a confident and assured tone, but even you know that won't be true.

"Oh and... hum... congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you say with a lump in your throat and a forced smile on your lips.

To you, the falsity of your congratulations echoes in the air, a subtle echo of disappointment and resignation flooding your heart. Aemond tries to say something with the right words, but you don't give him the time as you finally move forward and no one stops you, each step echoing with the heaviness of what could have been and was not.

But just when you think you've managed to get far enough away, a hand gently lands on your arm, once again stopping you.

"Wait, please."

Aemond's voice sounds full of urgency and longing, making your breath catch for a second. And when you turn to look at him with the clear resignation and sadness in your gaze, his look reveals a mixture of torment and determination, frustration as well.

"I did not wish for this, Y/N," he confesses truthfully, his voice soft and emotionally charged. "It is not my desire to marry Lord Borros' daughter. That is not what I wish for myself."

Your eyes fill with tears as you hear his words, surprise in your gaze. And he stares directly into your eyes with despair, as if his thoughts are trying to be conveyed through his gaze.

And even though you have nothing to say regarding that, he continues with a confession that takes your breath away.

"Y/N..." he whispers, his expression heavy with longing. "If I had a choice, if the decision were mine, I would not hesitate in....

His words hang in the air, causing confusion in you for a moment, but as you watch him closely, his gaze speaks for him.

He watches you with attention, longing and hope, adoringly seeing the way your beautiful purple dress highlights your figure and beauty, with those precious and discreet jewels adorning your neck and fingers... his woman.

He shows you his affection and expresses it simply by observing you that he doesn't need to say anything else aloud. The meaning of her words is dispersed between the two of you, revealing a shared desire and a deep connection.

As you, upon understanding, surprise and hope collide within you, leaving you breathless at the implicit, yet clear revelation. Emotions intertwine in a whirlwind of feelings as the weight of his words sink deep within you. Your heart only beats faster, unable to believe what you are hearing, as time seems to have stopped, unable to speak.

And only then there, you can feel joy in knowing that your feelings are reciprocated, but the pain of knowing that it is now too late, simply ruins everything and fills you with pain.

"Why are you saying it until now?" you whisper with your voice broken and your gaze lowered.

"Y/N, please-

You don't let him say anything else, as with a lump in your throat and tears streaming down your cheeks, a sight Aemond doesn't like to see, you turn away from him more quickly and walk out of the library, leaving him alone with the weight of these confessions and unspoken words.

Also with a heart full of regret.

The news of your courtship came weeks after the last time you spoke to Aemond in the library.

You definitely did not expect to hear that at all, as you felt like you had been unexpectedly punched hard in your stomach and a sharp pain settled in your chest as your father spoke complacently about how he received two advantageous offers for the asking of your hand, Lord Ronan Redwyne and Lord Alan Beesbury.

Despite your father's efforts to express the importance and political benefits of such possible unions, to you it was as if the air itself had become heavier and stifling.

Only on this occasion the Gods had been good to you, as both men are the same age as you, so the fear of having to marry a man who multiplies your age and was surely going to be bad to you evaporates.

But still, you feel trapped and obligated.

Of course, your parents are quick to push you to start having conversations with both men to see which of the two is the most suitable for you.

Lord Alan, with his refined presence and gentle smile, known to be a skilled knight, is kind and very gentlemanly. You always see his attempt to make you feel comfortable with his presence, also in the topics of conversation that arise between the two, telling you about his home, his family, some stories and sharing some wishes with you.

You appreciate that, as you can tell he's doing his best, but even so, your mind reels at the thought of him being the possible candidate to take your hand, which adds another layer of complexity to your situation.

The same goes for Lord Ronan.

Despite his kindness, chivalry and the attractiveness of his face, you find no peace in the situation. You don't even care that they are both advantageous for a future marriage, all you want is freedom, to wait a little longer until you heal.

But at least you are being given the choice, a privilege not many women get from their parents when it comes time to marry and simply sell them as a trophy to the first advantageous man.

"It's a beautiful day, don't you think, my Lady?" says Ronan, breaking the silence between the two as you stroll through the Red Keep gardens.

"Yes, it is," you reply with a forced smile, lowering your gaze, keeping your pace slow.

He watches you intently.

"I just want you to know that I am eager to get to know you better, my Lady," he tells you gently and formally, "And any questions you have about me, you can tell me. Also any thoughts you have, I will be pleased to hear them."

You nod politely, feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation, unable to help yourself. And though you truly appreciate Ronan's kindness, your heart still yearns for something that now eludes you.

As you continue the walk, you strive to find something in Ronan, anything, just as you do whenever you are in Lord Alan's company, but you always fail. And even though neither of them is a bad man, you know that they too are caught up in choosing a future wife that is not entirely of their choosing.

"I thank you for your kindness, my Lord."

You say in a sincere voice, looking him in the eyes for the first time since you had started the walk,

"And also for your interest. Not many men are interested in the thoughts of women these days."

Ronan places a kind and understanding little smile on his lips, nodding in your direction.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, my Lady. And I know it's only a short time since we've begun to know each other, but I enjoy your company."

You nod again, keeping your gaze straight ahead, unable to help but feel how you still feel overwhelmed by the weight of courtship and the fact that you will soon marry him or Lord Alan.

And at the same time, reality dawns on you with undeniable clarity: Ronan and Alan are good men, but neither is him.

While both may be honorable companions, your heart still yearns for someone you can't have, feeling utterly sad and resigned, because it's not fair, not to the two of them either.

But how can you make those feelings go away fast?

And just when things couldn't be more unexpected for you, as you turn down one of the bush paths along with Ronan, you both find yourselves face to face with Aemond accompanied by Lady Floris at his side, who were walking in the opposite direction.

And the air is enveloped with immediate tension.

You knew that eventually the news of your courtship with two possible candidates to give your hand in marriage would reach Aemond's ears, but when your eyes involuntarily meet his, you see only dissatisfaction and restrained fury.

This triggers a whirlwind of emotions within you, trying to disguise your surprise and discomfort, also nerves, as well as you try to focus on your companion, trying to move on and appear unaffected by this.

"Lady Y/N," Lady Floris greets politely with a smile, breaking the silence, "Lord Ronan," she address him, "How lovely to see you both this morning."

"Lady Floris," you reply, trying to remain calm, then look almost fearfully at Aemond, "Prince Aemond," you tilt your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

"My Lady," he answers you in a soft tone.

Ronan at your side also greets Lady Floris in a respectful manner, then turns to Aemond.

"My prince."

"Lord Ronan," says Aemond, in a dismissive tone, observing you attentively and at the same time in seriousness.

Aemond's tone does not go unnoticed by you, with an intensity on his face that does not go unnoticed either, as you struggle to remain calm in the face of the uncomfortable situation.

It is clear that Ronan's presence at your side does not please him at all.

As Lady Floris at his side, she attempts to carry on a polite conversation, oblivious to the tension that has taken over the moment.

"I would like to offer my best wishes to you both on your courtship," Lady Floris begins to say kindly, "Fortunately the prince and I are in the same place as you and understand what it can be to have expectations high in families if you decide to join your houses."

You feel more the knot in your stomach and the discomfort all over your body, not daring to say anything regarding that, while Aemond remains just as silent as you.

And fortunately Ronan is the one who appreciates Floris' gesture, while Aemond keeps his eye on you with an expressionless but penetrating gaze, also watching Ronan from time to time.

"Thank you, my Lady," Ronan replies courteously, "Your words are most kind and we wish you both well in your future marriage."

"Of course. We hope to see you both at our upcoming wedding," Floris adds with a kind and visibly excited smile, while you again feel your heart give a painful jump.

And since you say nothing, nor does Aemond, Ronan hastens to speak.

"Of course, my Lady. We will see you there."

With pain in your eyes, your gaze involuntarily drifts to Aemond for a brief moment, where he is already watching you. And in that fleeting moment, the looks in both of your eyes convey more than words can express.

With a polite bow, the four of you take your leave and each pair continues on their own way.

You try to focus on your steps along with Ronan's, but the echo of tension and unspoken feelings leave an unpleasant sensation throughout your body. And that's when you hope that soon, both you and he will find peace in your respective futures.

But it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon. Neither did acceptance.

Aemond continued the rest of his walk with Floris in the gardens with his mind still focused on the encounter with you and that boy clearly unworthy of you. He didn't even pay attention to what Floris was talking about, he had not the slightest interest and obliged, he had to complete his walk with her contributing very little to the conversation.

Even he himself could not avoid the feeling of suffocation and frustration that invaded him. Seeing Y/N, his Y/N, next to that poor boy, one of his possible candidates to take her hand in marriage, provoked a mixture of indescribable emotions inside him and he made a great effort to keep his composure.

He feels furious and emotionally on the verge of exploding, like a mad man, with impotence filling him with rage.

Why should she marry a man who was not him? Why should he be forced to witness her courtship with another man? Why couldn't he have realized that she also loves him the same way he loves her and reacted sooner?

He felt that he was really going to go crazy, so as soon as he bids farewell to Floris and leaves her in the company of the other ladies of the Court, he heads for the training yard.

Big mistake.

As soon as his presence arrives at this place of the Red Keep, the figure of Lord Ronan pulls him out of his thoughts and draws his full attention.

At least he has the decency to hold a sword.

He thinks to himself, watching as he finds himself engrossed in his own training, accompanied by other knights, practicing his sword moves. He also thinks about focusing on his own training, but finds it a better idea to meet the candidate of his dear friend Y/N, wanting to know what truly awaits her.

After all, Lord Ronan is not the only candidate, Lord Alan also frequents the training yard and will eventually see him as well. So with a determined step, he approaches him.

"Lord Ronan," he says in a cool but controlled tone as he approaches, heading towards the weapons table.

"Prince Aemond," Ronan replies, stopping his training and turning to him, "It is good to see you here as well, my prince."

His gaze assesses Ronan closely, noting his every gesture and movement. And despite the anger still flowing through his veins, he remains calm, not revealing too much of his thoughts.

"I guess you don't train enough at home. House Redwyne is best known for making sweet wine from the grapes that grow on your island," he comments neutrally, watching Ronan's position with meticulous attention.

"Ah... no, my prince," Ronan says politely, "I have had training lessons with the sword, among other weapons, since I was a young boy. So have other members of my family and I assure you we are well trained," he replies, adjusting the position of his sword, "After all, a knight must remain prepared at all times."

"Hm," he says seriously, "And that is what you have accomplished with so many years of training?"

Ronan remains calm in the face of the prince's critical gaze, though Aemond's insinuation resonates with a defiant tone.

"P-pardon me?"

"With those moves is that how you're going to ensure protection for your future wife?" he inquires with a dismissive tone, challenging Ronan with his words.

Tension begins to be felt in the air, the verbal confrontation slipping between the two men. And though Ronan maintains his composure, not wanting his words to affect him, the disdain in the prince's words does not go unnoticed.

"Appearances can be deceiving, my prince," Ronan said calmly, controlling each word to convey determination, "And my duty as protector of my future wife is not limited to combat alone. I suppose there are more important aspects."

Aemond tilts his head, watching him in confusion.

"And what aspects are those, my Lord?" he asks, clearly disinterested.

"Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice," he replied determinedly. "Protection goes beyond sword skills; it involves being willing to give your all for the person you are sworn to protect."

Ronan's words echoed in the air, filling the space between them with a seriousness that could not be ignored. And Aemond, his brow furrowed, lets out a sigh and watches him more seriously than before.

"Do you hear yourself, my lord? Speaking like the ladies of the Court who read and listen to love ballads," he snaps, watching him in disapproval, "Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice are not going to protect your future wife from a life-threatening attack," he says and then turns away, taking his sword and a shield from the table.

Ronan swallows hard.

"You need not worry, my prince. Still I assure you that I am well prepared for combat."

"Oh yeah?" he looks at him expectantly, turning to him with his weapons in hands, "Then prove it."

Ronan looks a little confused.

"My prince-

"Come on," he interrupts him, egging him on with defiance, discontent and agitation in his tone and look, "If you're as skillful as you proclaim, then prove it."

The atmosphere grows more tense, as Aemond waits for Ronan to accept his challenge and prove his worth beyond words. Both men hold each other's gazes firmly, with the tension increasing by the second, but neither takes a step back.

The confrontation becomes tangible. Glares charged with a subtle but unmistakable rivalry. And without further words, the air filled with the anticipation of the physical training ahead, as the two head to the center of the training yard, each preparing in their own way.

Aemond tightens his grip on his sword and without hesitation, lunges towards Ronan with fierce determination, causing the poor knight to have little anticipation to protect himself from his sword, but managing to dodge it and answer him in kind.

At first it appears to be casual training, yet Aemond wants to get a reaction out of him.

And between every clash of swords and every move full of speed and precision, at every failure of Ronan, Aemond taunts and shouts questions and insults at him in a defiant voice while demanding superior performance.

And at every failure and every taunt, Ronan's determination grows, also inevitably to the prince's provocations.

"Is that all you can do!?"

Aemond exclaims arrogantly to him, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to unsettle him.

Ronan growls and focuses on his movements, responding with brutality and force, trying to answer every blow he threw at him, which to Aemond, couldn't be more pathetic and weak movements.

"This is what you plan to defend yourself with? This is what you have learned?" he inquires, mockingly, "What a shame."

Ronan lowers his sword a little, watching him in bewilderment and panting in exhaustion.

"My prince-

He tries to say but Aemond won't let him.

"No," he tells him seriously, "Be a fucking man and fight me back."

Aemond raises his sword again and slams it against his, causing him to lose his balance, while Ronan as best he can defends himself from their attacks, while the combat begins to attract the attention of the other knights and some people of the Court.

And only when Aemond sees that they have just started and he can no longer stand and does not even have more strength in his arms, the confrontation went from a simple duel to a battle without mercy.

And he in a fit of anger and frustration, leads to hit him with his foot in the chest with excessive force, making him gasp in pain and throwing him to the ground, and then walk quickly towards him, with purpose, raising his sword, so Ronan quickly tries to get up, raising his sword, blocking his attack.

Then Aemond's sword dangerously grazes Ronan's shoulder, knocking him back to the ground with a blow to his side.

"My prince-

"You yield!?" he exclaims to him in his madness, bringing the point of his sword to his throat.

"Yes! I yield!"

"Just like that!? So easy!?"

"Prince Aemond!"

He hears someone shout in the distance but he focuses entirely on Ronan below him.

"I yield!"

"He's bleeding!"

"My prince!" comes Criston Cole immediately.

And only at that moment does Aemond stop, breathing shakily, his gaze with barely contained fury. And only at that moment he also notices that Ronan has a wound on his shoulder with which he had brushed his sword earlier, not realizing at the time that he had wounded him.

Ronan presses his free hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, watching him in horror and clearly calling for help.

Aemond squeezes his sword again so hard that it marks his white knuckles, watching everyone around him for a moment, then with a hard stare, turning to him again, angling his body so that only he can hear him.

"You are not worthy of her," he whispers in a low voice, his words laden with disdain and resentment.

And without caring about the stares or even her opponent's injury, he leaves the shield on the ground and with his sword in hand heads towards the interior of the Red Keep's castle.

Aemond knew that eventually what happened at the training yard would reach your ears. He also expected a confrontation about it, but he didn't imagine he would face your fury late at night.

His guards are required to stand guard in different hallways, so taking advantage of the fact that there are none in the hallway by his doors, you quickly make your way there to enter his chamber as fast as your body will allow.

He looks up from his book in his lap, sitting near the fireplace, watching you attentively at once, but before he can say anything, you turn to him with your lips pressed together and annoyance in your eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" you inquire in a serious and demanding tone, looking for explanations.

And just like you, Aemond isn't having your attitude either. He's annoyed to see how you haven't taken any time at all to come to the defense of that stupid, poor, defenseless boy.

Putting his book aside, he stands up, imposing his presence on you. Despite having to raise your face to face him directly, you don't let his posture intimidate you.

"I see that that... Ronan matters too much to you, my Lady," he says in a dismissive tone, "It took you no time at all to fall for his sure sweet words and promises of love. After all, you and he are very much alike."

You inhale deeply before responding, seeking calm despite his attitude and the tone of his words.

"Ronan and I are getting to know each other, nothing more. Just as you are getting to know Floris Baratheon. But I'm not doing anything against you, yours is for sure, she's going to be your wife. But you can't go hurting and almost killing the men who can be my future husband."

He looks away from yours for a moment, irritated.

"I don't know what you expected, honestly," he tells you seriously and indifferently, "That's what happens in combat when we fight with weapons, Y/N, men get hurt. And if Ronan is weak and wasn't taught well, that's not my problem."

You stand your ground, incredulous to hear his words.

"That doesn't justify what you did. Everyone witnessed how the combat began and it was you who unfairly exploded against him, hurting him," you reproach him with determination. "His wound was deep. He needed eight stitches!"

Aemond, sick of this, averts his gaze from yours and turns his back on you, heading towards his table to pour himself a glass of wine under your confused and incredulous gaze.

"I don't understand why you're so worried, he'll be fine. After all, you still have another possible candidate for your hand, I hear," he says in a tone devoid of emotion, laden with bitterness, "Though I doubt he's much stronger than Ronan."

His voice sounds harsh, his words laden with a bitter resentment that he can barely hide, jealous.

"So this is how things will be?"

You ask him earnestly and sadly, fighting back tears that threaten to escape at any moment.

"You'll go around hurting my suitors until there are none left and I have no chance of marrying anyone else but not you either?"

Tension hangs in the air as you wait for his response, feeling the weight of your words and the clash of emotions between the two of you.

And he remains silent, staring out the window with a hard stare, as if not looking for an answer through the glass, turning his back to you and not daring to look at you at that moment.

Finally the first tear rolls down your cheek and Aemond listens as you gently sniffle your nose, then turns to you, his face showing a mixture of emotions, from hardness to the flash of regret and longing.

And he lets out a defeated sigh.

"That's not what this is about, Y/N," he murmurs in a softer tone, his expression revealing his inner struggle, "They're not worthy of you. Your father is choosing wrong."

And that's when you explode with anger and frustration, unable to contain yourself any longer.

"I just don't understand why you care so much, Aemond!" you exclaim without understanding, "You shouldn't see them as a threat because they are not. You have nothing to do here!"

You face him, as your tears fall silently, with a defiant look and your posture firm, though full of sadness, anguish and confusion, inside and outside. And he too responds to you in kind.

"Of course I do!" he turns to you angrily, exclaiming in his fury, "This does concern me because those fucking men and your father are going to take you away from me! And they have no right!"

And again your emotions boil over, fury and pain getting the best of you.

"Do you even listen to yourself? How irrational you are being?" you inquire, not understanding, "You didn't even do anything in the beginning, you are the prince, the one who had the power to do something about it and you never even once asked for my hand!" you shout at him, your voice full of reproach, sadness and disappointment.

Furious, Aemond turns around and in a burst of anger, throws his hand towards the table, causing the wine jar and the cups to fall to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sudden sound makes you jump and recoil, startled by the noise and force of the act.

He turns his back and heads for the back of his chair, leaning hard against it as he tries to contain his fury. With her breathing rapid and agitated he struggles to regain his composure, his body tensing and closing his eye tightly.

The air becomes tense and the silence uncomfortable, as Aemond fights against himself and you just allow yourself to cry silently.

When he speaks again, with a tinge of bitterness in his gaze, still not turning to look at you and his voice soft but laden with resignation, still holding back his fury.

"I wanted to," he confesses to you, his vulnerability visible, "But my mother and grandsire would never have approved, you know that."

His statement leaves you speechless, with a mixture of sadness and disappointment that he didn't even try, not once and yet...he has the nerve to do this to you.

You remain silent and the disappointment and bitterness reflect even more on your face as the tears run their course, to finally gather your courage and speak.

"Then... let me go," you whisper, it being more of a painful plea than a command.

Silence expands in the room, marking every second with the heaviness of unresolved emotions. And you, overwhelmed with disappointment and pain, understand that you have nothing more to do here and turn to leave.

You don't even care if one of the guards sees you coming out of his chamber, you don't even care if rumors arise seeing you here late at night and everything gets too complicated, you just need to get out of here soon.

And with tears still running down your cheeks and being completely heartbroken, you grab the doorknob. But just as you are about to turn it, his firm and determined hand lands on your waist and turns you towards him, stopping you.

The action takes you by surprise and you look at him without understanding, he doesn't give you time to say anything either as he places one hand on your cheek and the other keeps it firmly on your waist, bringing his body close to yours.

And still without reacting, he moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your face.

"I can't," he murmurs, his voice cracking with anguish, laden with longing and regret, "I can't," he repeats in a whisper, gently caressing your cheek, "I'm sorry."

And just then, without a thought for anyone else and without a care in the world, his lips trap yours in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Paralyzed, surprise takes you completely and you can only feel how every movement of his lips is a mixture of apology and desire, asking you to kiss him back.

His arms wrap firmly around you, clinging to you as if he's going to lose you at any moment. And unable to resist a second longer, with his soft lips and warm mouth on top of yours, he makes the world fade away around you in that instant and you kiss him back.

You place your arms around his neck and cling to him completely, moving your lips in sync with his, as he presses your body against his and lets out a gasp at the wonderful feeling of having you this way with him.

And you feel as if you are floating, this being exactly what you had dreamed and prayed for so much, wishing and praying to the Gods that this is not also one of your cruel dreams.

But this is real. It is finally happening.

So you allow yourself to lose yourself completely in it, not thinking about the consequences and not caring about anything else, as Aemond walks you around without stopping kissing you for a single moment, until his feet touch the edge of his bed.

"I love you. I love you so much, my sweet girl."

He whispers into your lips, watching you with all that love and desire in his gaze, noticing your swollen and parted lips, watching him back with the same intensity and completely surprised to hear his words.

And without saying anything back, with the actions speaking for themselves, you kiss him again, feeling that urge to cry, but of happiness.

Aemond falls down sitting on the edge of his bed and you take a seat on his lap, placing your knees on either side of his hips, clinging to his neck and kissing him slow, deep, making you feel everything.

"I love you too," you murmur against his lips, watching him with nothing but affection and desire.

He kisses you again desperately, feeling something warm in his chest at your words, holding your waist with one of his hands and the other beginning to lift the edges of your skirt, making his way to touch your bare thigh.

You gasp into his lips, feeling his warm hand and the cool metal of his rings, only to tilt your head as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, trying to find your sensitive spot to make you shiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, lifting his gaze to you.

"A-aemond," you gasp, feeling the hardness beneath you.

You reach up with one of your hands and remove his eye patch, wanting to see everything about him, instantly reflecting the faint light of his blue sapphire, looking so beautiful and dazzling.

You smile softly at the sight of him, then leave a soft kiss on his cheek, beginning to leave a small trail down his face to kiss him on the lips, as his hand on your thigh makes gentle, firm strokes on your skin.

Slowly, he lifts his hand from your waist to the laces of your dress, watching you attentively afterwards and needing first of all your permission. And you help him untie the knots yourself.

Your front of the dress loosens and revealing your white gown underneath, Aemond lifts one of his hands and gently traces your skin between the valley of your breasts, making you shudder and shiver, then stops at the straps, watching you again.

"May I?"

With the blush on your cheeks and the nerves in your lower abdomen, really wanting to do this, you nod.

"Yes."

His hand slowly slides the strap down your shoulder and arm, then exposes your breasts to him, making you feel more nervous, but you feel completely safe to be doing this with him.

Truly everything that happens next, giving him your mainhead and letting his calloused hands explore all over your naked body, is by choice and you think to yourself that if there is one man you would willingly trust with this, it's him.

And just as the tip of his hot, hard, heavy cock makes its way between your walls, he knows exactly how to comfort you and make you feel comfortable. Instantly blood stains his sheets, but he doesn't care at all.

And when he begins to move inside you, slowly and very carefully, waiting for you to get used to it, he wipes away every tear that escapes your eyes and comforts you with his hands and kisses, making sure that at all times you are well.

"You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight, my love."

And despite his obscene words, his actions are anything but, his movements careful and careful not to hurt you, asking you how you feel.

He kisses you sweetly and caresses your breasts, he makes sure to pleasure you too, as he understands that this is not just about him and the act is not just about fucking, but him making love to you.

He growls into your lips and you gasp as he begins to move with more purpose inside you, feeling the sweat all over your body and forehead, clinging to his shoulders and gently digging your nails into his skin also lightly illuminated by sweat.

"Do you have any idea how long I imagine this?" he whispers against your lips, moving his hips and pounding that sweet spot inside you, making you moan beneath him.

But he quiets your moans with his lips, not wanting anyone out there to hear you, it would be too risky.

"Aemond," you say his name in a moan, biting your lips.

"What's wrong, my sweet girl? Does it hurt?" he says to start moving more gently.

"N-no. It just... feels so good," you manage to say over the sensual movement of his hips that make you see stars behind your eyes.

The act doesn't last long and very soon Aemond makes you reach your highest point, making you experience a sensation you had no idea about all over your body and he also spills all his seed inside you, grunting and moaning from the pleasure as he feels your walls squeezing him deliciously.

And then, both of you sweaty and trying to catch your breath, you embrace and take a moment in his bed.

You feel a tingle between your legs that is more than gratifying and Aemond, for the first time in a long time, feels at peace and completely at ease, especially having you in his arms at this moment.

There was no time for regrets and worries, it was all done. So the two of you dive into that little world where only the two of you exist.

But even though you didn't want to think about it, you think about the future, with uncertainty beginning to invade you, as you inhale Aemond's scent, hiding your face between his neck and chest, embracing him as he encloses you in his arms and gently caresses your bare shoulder with his thumb, listening to his soft breathing above you.

You let out a sigh, close your eyes and wish you could stay like this forever, starting to feel your eyes water and that huge worry in your chest for what you just did.

When Aemond speaks.

"In the morrow I will talk to your father and ask for your hand."

He says in a soft voice and everything in you comes to a complete standstill, listening to him attentively.

"I'm sure he won't be able to resist my proposal. No one will be able to stop us when they know I have claimed your mainhead, not even my mother and grandsire. And then... we will have our Valyrian wedding and there will be no turning back," he murmurs and then places a soft smile on his lips, "You will be mine, as much as you already are now."

You feel him leave a soft kiss in your hair and you smile softly, moving closer towards him, if possible.

"Sounds like an excellent plan, my love," you whisper, grateful.

And finally you can be at peace now.

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