thank you all sm for 300 followers! i’m honestly really unsure what to say bc this hasn’t actually fully set in that it’s something that’s happening because i just woke up— but honestly i’m so happy to share my work with you all and i’m so glad you enjoy it enough to follow me. thank you so so much and i’m forever grateful!!
…I love the behind the scenes insight from the amazing writers on this hellsite. 💜 I want to start a thread of any writing advice you would offer to a newbie writer or perhaps share something you learned that changed how you wrote.
For me, I adored the sage advice give by @theromanticegoist who advise me to write the emotion being felt in the moment instead of being so wrapped up in the actual scenery.
This also seeped over to my smut writing; as you might know, I never wrote smut until I finished HotD. @sylas-the-grim helped me realized I needed to stop being so absorbed with the actual technicality of what was being done, but instead focus on how it was making them feel.
Anyway, I just wanted to share that, because their words are tucked close to my heart, a reminder with each new doc created, and I just owe so much to them for how my writing is maturing (she says after posting her smutty Targcest sandwich).
I am going to tag some of my Tumblr kindred spirits 💜 Please feel free to reblog, to comment, if this comes across your dashboard, but just know I am adding this thread to my Interview With a Writer’s masterlist!
[Ez & Spenser, if you have anything else you wish to share! 💜]
content warnings: 18+, explicit content, aemond is in his late 30s, reader is in her early 20s, somnophilia, mean!dilf aemond, marking/biting, edging, possessive!aemond, dacryphilia, degradation, praising, aftercare.
note: sorry it took me so long! if there are any mistakes i apologize but english is not my first language. reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!
aemond targaryen and you met after you answered his anonymous ad looking for a babysitter. you were struggling with college and paying rent, so it was something you really needed. and so aemond needed it too.
aemond emailed you an address for your first meeting and you almost fell off the chair when you googled the place; a very fancy restaurant in the upper side of town.
you dressed in your best clothes, a decent dress you knew would help you make a good impression, and made your way to the restaurant, so anxious you had to stop at the entrance and take a deep breath.
when the host led you to the table, you were met with the last person you were expecting. there, on a table for three, was sitting aemond targaryen—the ceo of one of the biggest corporations in westeros and member of one of the most renowned families—next to a silver haired girl clinging to his arm.
after you got over your initial shock and learned that he was actually really kind and easy going under that ‘dark’ facade he always showed to everyone—not that you really knew him, it was all based on the countless interviews on magazines—you were able to relax and answer all his questions.
you were also able to ask him anything and clear all doubt you had. you even talked to the little girl, vaella, who was no older than four years old.
your first weeks you didn’t see aemond. he told he was closing a very big deal and that you would need go stay at home to take care of his little girl. and you had no problem, everywhere was better than living with your very annoying roommate.
but once that job was finished. you started seeing him at home more often which only made you more nervous and uncomfortable. because every time you turned around, he was there leaning against the door watching you play with vaella, or simply looking at you from behind the newspaper while you feed vaella her breakfast.
the intensity in his gaze made your skin burn. every time you caught him checking you out, a shiver would roll down your neck as a warmth pooled in your lower belly at the thought of him finding you attractive. it made you feel good.
aemond made the first move one night after vaella fell asleep and found you next to her, asleep too.
aemond took you in his arms, wanting to leave you on the guest room and retreat to his own to rest, when he heard you mumble his name in your sleep. “what was that, kid?” he asked you, fingers caressing your cheek, aware you were dreaming. “oh fuck—aemond,” you moaned, and he couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto his face.
it didn’t matter to him that you were sleeping. after all it was of him you were dreaming of and he would not let that slide.
you thought you were having a very vivid dream, his hands on your body felt a little too realistic but you were enjoying it; you knew it was wrong and fucked up even in your subconscious but it feel too good to made yourself wake up. if you couldn’t make those fantasies come true, you will have him in your dreams.
aemond squeezed your breast, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and cupping your cunt. you moaned, eyes slowly fluttering open. it didn’t scare you seeing him so close, eyes so dark you couldn’t see his irises anymore. “was it a good dream?” he teased you, lips attaching to your left breast. it feel even better than your dream.
aemond wasn’t gentle that night.
but you like when he manhandles you and uses you for his own pleasure. if you’re a good girl and take everything he gives you, he lets you cum.
aemond likes to tease you. even more so when you are at one of the events he’s hosting at his house. you are always around because he likes to keep his daughter around. and he’s not going to lie, he likes seeing you all flustered when you caught him looking at you from across the room.
he would introduce you as his daughter’s babysitter, a hand on your lower back, thumb caressing your bare skin as he keeps a straight face as if he didn’t made you cum until your legs were trembling just a few minutes ago, hiding from everyone behind a bookshelf.
aemond would see you trying to hide the bite marks he left on your neck with a smirk on his face. he has to bite his lips to stop himself from chuckling when he sees people eyes darting to the place where the marks are more dark and visible, your face heating up at noticing it too.
he’s not an idiot, he sees how some of the men look at you, even asking him very inappropriate questions about you. aemond tries his best to hide his anger, clenching his jaw and excusing himself.
you end up bent over his desk on his studio after one particular men tried to flirt with you. “parading yourself like a slut. can’t even leave you alone for one minute.” he grunts, pulling down his pants.
when you’re watching a movie with vaella, aemond likes to have his hand on your thighs, squeezing and caressing just inches away from when you need him. you look at him, pleading, but he doesn’t even look in your direction, pretending to pay attention to the movie playing in the background.
and when he notices that you’re not able to keep still, parting your legs and bucking your hips up, trying to make him touch you, he slaps your thigh, nails digging onto the soft flesh making you whimper. “pathetic slut, you have no respect for my daughter.” he laughs at you, removing his hand.
aemond punishes you for being so greedy, edging you all night until you’re a crying mess and can’t think straight.
you sob, hot salty tears streaming down your face. “please, please!” you don’t even know what you are begging for. aemond feels bad for a second until he feels you tighten around his fingers, a dark laugh falling off his lips. “you like this, stop being a fucking baby and take it.”
and when he finally slides in, it’s too much. you’ve been at it for hours, and you’re too sensitive so you try to push him away but he pins your hips to the bed, frowning down at you and forcing you to take him to the hilt.
aemond has to put a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “you need to keep it down, sweetheart. don’t want to wake vaella up, do we?”
aemond likes praising you, especially when you’ve been such a good girl for him, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with you.
“doing s’good for me, sweetheart.” he says, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty forehead and hips thrusting into you.
when he finally lets you cum, it’s devastating. it leaves you trembling, muscles going limp.
aemond always asks you where you want him to cum and your answer is always inside. he likes to hear you say it, he cums hard every time, paiting your walls white.
after you both come down from your high, he does not hesitate to wrap you in his arms and kiss your temple, whispering soft words in your ear.
aemond cleans you up, gives you water, runs a bath for you and even gives you a massage. he lets you rest on his bed while he makes something to eat and checks on his daughter. he spoils you.
“you were such a good girl, it’s the least i can do.” he says, softly kissing your lips, after you try to get up and help him. “you need to rest, sweetheart.”
and the next morning when he sees you having trouble to walk straight or even sit, he needs to hide his smile behind his hand. seeing you that way only helps to feed his ego.
i’ll motorboat them like there’s no goddamn tomorrow i swear that’s a PROMISE. i want to so bad i wonder if they bounce when he walks like i wanna smack under them to see if they jump around. they’re so perky too i just can’t handle it anymore i want it so bad let me just get in between them like twin peaks i swear i will pay any amount of money to touch his tiddies please please PLEASE OH NH GOD PLEASE JUST LET ME PLEAAAASEEE
masterlist
pairing: aemond targaryen x OC
(a/n): i’m so tired please enjoy. this is my first time ever writing an OC story gwuuh
rating: SFW
all notes are appreciated.
words: 3.7k
tag list: @twizzy123 @clairacassidy @hopelesswritergall @fairysluna @blackdreamspeaks
Ever since I was a girl it was all the same, men in power over women. They stare at us in disgust when we speak our minds, our power pushed aside. Their rape, assaults, drunken violence, and bloodied swords were all honored. What of us? We sit and look pretty for those who force things we have no craving for upon us.
I find it quite amusing.
My father, Borros Baratheon, had chosen it was best fit to discuss the money owed to him by the crown in person. Though, I had no craving to go to the wretched city of Kings Landing. I was drug along by my mother, Eraesella Targaryen, who thought it’d be good for me to meet my distant family.
I’d heard enough of their acts, especially Aegon’s. His force upon the women he’d met, his betrothal to his dearest and innocent sister, and his unhealthy drunken habits. But for some godforsaken reason, they believe he’s fit to be a king. I mean, he fits the description of every so-called “great” ruler I’ve heard of, so maybe he is perfect for the role.
Just. Perfect. I think, staring at the white-haired romantic. He’s bent over, his lips on my knuckles. I merely stare, violet eyes piercing his lighter shade. He stares in awe for a moment, a grin spreading across his lips. Disgusting.
“Princess Anera, my sweetest cousin. It’s a pleasure to finally lay my eyes upon a woman such as yourself,” Aegon coos, my brows knitted together as I clench my jaw. His gaze lurks on something else, these putrid and typical compliments not out of the good of his heart.
“I wish I could say the same, Prince Aegon, but your presence and gesture seem to be just as memorable as a common beggar,” I remark, loud enough for those around us to hear. My mother gasps, taking my wrist in her hand. I hear a small laugh escape one of the boys, looking at a younger dragonling. He seems just a bit younger than me, his lips pursed to bite back a smile, I can’t help but smile at such a reaction. Though, I’m interrupted by my mother squeezing my wrist.
“Behave!” she hisses at me between clenched teeth, I nod slowly and look at Aegon who is still processing the jab. “I apologize for my daughter’s behavior. We raise our children much differently in Storms End!” she says apologetically. I look at my mother sympathetically. She was one of many wives to my father, and I was the only surviving child of hers, aware of the fact she holds disappointment in her heart toward me.
I mute the loose conversation between my families, looking around the glorious throne room. I’m mesmerized, gazing longingly at the throne. I would look amazing sitting upon such a grand seat. No husband, no accepted suitors, merely men groveling at my feet for forgiveness. As I take my plush lower lip between my teeth, lost in thought, I hear someone pipe up next to me.
“Princess,” his voice is stern and raised, which draws my attention back to reality. Quickly, I look at the boy in question. His hair is thinned slightly but reaches down his shoulders. It’s slicked back, letting me grasp his beautiful face, violet eyes staring into mine. Okay, pretty boy, what in the entire Seven Hells could you want? “I feel we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. I am Prince Aemond, first of his name. It’s lovely to meet you, My Lady.” I smile, the gesture light and meaningless. I expected a large and pushy romantic action, much like his brother, but he merely maintains eye contact with a small bow. Slowly, I bow in return, a confused look coming to his face. He says nothing, but seems caught off guard. I hadn't responded with a curtsy.
“Prince Aemond,” I say in a soft tone, his name dripping from my lips like a sweet honey. He seems to drink the words off my lips for a moment, before blinking a few times and looking over to the throne. Before he can speak, I pipe up. “Say, Prince, do you think you’d look fitting upon the throne?” My eyes glance to him, watching as he draws in a long breath.
“It’s my brother’s right to sit upon it before me. Though, I have to admit… I feel I’d make a fine ruler, if I was provided such an opportunity,” when he speaks, his voice is low and quiet. I grin, stepping next to him as I take my arm in his. He looks to me with discomfort as I raise a brow to him.
“You’d look fantastic as king, dearest cousin. You seem quite fit for the throne,” I whisper, looking to the throne. Maybe I shouldn’t continue to speak, but I couldn’t stop myself. Slowly, I lean into his ear and gently squeeze his arm. “However, I think I’d look better.”
Then, I step away. I can feel his gaze on my back, turning my head over my shoulder. “Prince Aemond, could you show me around the castle? It’s all so new!” I play mock innocent, the boy is flabbergasted for a moment before adjusting his faltering posture and glancing at his mother who smiles and urges him to go. I note the heavy sigh in response to her endorsement, letting him catch up as we lock arms again. Tension is now built between us.
We travel through the halls, holding the bare minimum of conversation. I can tell he’s still considering my comment, maybe trying to think of a comeback. How cute. There's nothing I love more than making a man bite his tongue.
“Say, Prince Aemond,” I start, his gaze darting to mine. “Has your dragon hatched yet? May I see it?” I seem a bit more eager than I’d like, his eyes widening then shame and embarrassment covering his face. Aemond must’ve noticed how my expression faltered slightly at his reaction because his cheeks are now pink with humiliation.
Oh.
“Pardon me, Princess,” he says slowly, turning to leave. Before he can exit with haste, I grab his wrist. His eyes widen with shock that melds into frustration as he goes to tear his hand away.
“I don’t have one either!” I blurt out, it comes out abruptly. Aemond scans my gaze with anger, looking for something I can’t place. “My egg. It didn’t hatch.” My voice is quiet, disappointment washing over me. “My father was ashamed I couldn’t get it to hatch. I tried day after day, spending all night staring at that beautiful white egg. Hoping, praying to the gods. They hadn’t answered me.” I feel his sympathetic and knowing gaze, letting in a shaky breath. Laughing weakly, I see a gentle smile on his face. "It must be their punishment for my behavior, huh," I say. He takes my hands in his, but I don’t allow him to speak just yet. “Please understand a dragon does not make you more. With or without dragons, we are still Targaryens. We are still proud and full of power. We are more god than human.” He takes in my words, sighs softly, and clenches my hands.
“I admire your courage for telling me such things, cousin,” Aemond says, causing my eyes to widen. I half expected him to laugh at my ramble, but he seems understanding.
Too understanding.
I take my hands away from his, brushing them off at my sides. He stares with growing curiosity, my stomach churning slightly. “Tell me, why is your hair like that?” His question is sudden and comes off much more offensive than he means. I quickly move the wavy lock behind my shoulders in humiliation, shooting him a small glare. “Oh, my apologies. It’s unique, is all. Beautiful even.” He smiles weakly, my heart racing.
I had heard such a compliment countless times. Why, oh why, did it feel so different coming from him? As if he meant every word he said with the most love humanly possible. I had to admit, it was unique. Its base was a dark Baratheon black, wavy at the ends like a Targaryen; the inside of my hair was the unique part. It’s white, the pure shade of a true Targaryen. Under my black hair, the color trailed only when a hand moved it; the only visible part was the bangs, which were pure white, almost artificially colored. I was unsure why it was such a way, but I’ve heard many different remarks regarding it.
“Well, I believe it’s a curse from the gods. I pained my mother so much she had almost passed,” I laughed weakly, trying to bring some sort of light to the words. “They wished me to be a monstrosity when it came to my hair, to draw from my face I presume.” I’d been told I was the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms by a few, but I’d been called hideous by others. I was unsure what to truly believe when I’d first heard such harsh statements, but then realizing taking word from the putrid drunkards who lust over innocent women may not be the best idea. I firmly believe I am beautiful, and when given the opportunity I could seduce any man no matter their beliefs. I may be wrong, but I may not be. I still have yet to try such things.
I watch Aemond inspect me before nodding, taking his arm in mine, and leading me off. “Well, we will bask in being different our entire lives. Though, we must embrace such things. As you said, these faults do not make us less of a Targaryen. If anything, they add beauty to our blood.” He compliments me, and his quote of my words makes me chuckle. We stop in front of a wooden door, the story of Aegon and The Black Dread carved into the wood. I admire the art, tracing my fingertips over it slowly with growing adoration. It was beautiful.
“Your chambers, Princess,” Aemond says, bringing me from my thoughts. I look over at him and nod, opening the door.
“Thank you, I appreciate the kindness. It will not be forgotten, Prince. I shall see you when morrow falls upon us,” I murmur, giving him a curtsy. He stares at me for a moment, seeming to consider something, before clearing his throat and bowing.
“Rest easy,” His voice is faint as he begins to walk away. I slowly close my door, sighing heavily and falling onto the luxurious bedding provided. It was soft and silky, the feeling making me wish to fall asleep immediately. I know I can’t though.
Slowly, I stand from my comfortable state and strip myself from my clothing, slipping on my thin sleeping garb and sitting in front of the mirror provided, taking my brush from my bag and running it through my hair. As I look at myself, I can’t help but feel insecure at such a sight. My button nose holds a soft rosy tint, freckles lining my nose that highlight my cheeks, and doe-like violet eyes gazing back at me. I look stupid with my lips having a natural parting, showing my teeth only slightly. I turn around, refusing to look at myself as I hurriedly finish brushing through my locks. Then, I go back to my bed and lie down, not bothering to put my covers over myself, and nuzzling into the pillow with a gentle sigh, slumber falling upon me before I can stop it.
Morning arises, and my sleep is dreamless. Slowly, I wake to the sight of a curious servant girl. My eyes blow wide, standing up swiftly and shoving her away, the girl yelping in surprise as a glass of wine drops to the floor, spilling along the stone.
“Your Grace, I apologize! Please, let me! Gods forgive, gods forgive me.” The poor girl cries out, grabbing a nearby cloth and soaking up the drink on the floor. I move over, placing my hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her anxieties.
“No, no. It’s alright. You gave me quite the fright,” I soothe, the girl looking at me. Her eyes are a soft brown, hair is put up in a beautiful braided bun. She has thin lips, a nose of a northerner, and butterfly earlobes. I can’t help but admire her beauty, cupping her cheek. “What’s your name, sweetling?”
I watch her chest expand as she breathes in a long inhale, scanning my eyes fearfully before speaking up. “Emilee, MyLady. Just Emilee,” she whispers, cheeks growing a shade of pink.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Now, why don’t you share breakfast with me? What do you say, Emilee?” I whisper back, helping her soak up the wine on the floor. She grows shy, nodding and then grabbing the plate she had set down, walking to the table in the middle of my room, and sitting down. Her eyes watch me as I sit and portion the meal between us. I don’t say anything, worried I may terrify the poor girl. I merely eat my food and thank her, and she eagerly thanks me in return.
“Where are the boys today, dear?” I ask, watching as she looks at me in surprise that I speak to her so gently.
“The training grounds, Your Grace!” she says as if I gave her an order, I can’t help but laugh and sip the small bit of wine that is left. She finishes her food at the same time as me, seeming to have paced herself so she could collect our food at the same time. She grabs my plate and puts it on her tray, giving me a curtsy.
“You may go,” I grant, watching as she rushes out. What an adorable servant.
I had dressed in a medium-length grey dress that hugged my form well, wearing flat shoes to make my movements less staggered. I exited the castle, looking down at the boys in their training outfits. It was funny, watching the two brunettes stumble over their feet while Aegon and Aemond seemed so firm. Everyone learned at different paces, something not many seemed to understand… My eyes fell on Ser Criston Cole, the knight impatient with the two brunette boys. It frustrated me, he was quite bothersome. I make my way down to the dirt, then knights in training growing distracted that a woman was walking on their training field. I look at the spears, smiling slightly in thought.
“Prince Aemond!” I call, the boy looking at me in surprise. I see the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he strides over to me, bowing.
“Princess Anera, I hadn’t expected you to be here,” Aemond comments, making me raise my brows with a frown.
“Is that so, Prince?" My tone is bitter at such a statement. “How is training going? Learn anything valuable?”
He seems to hesitate at my question, unsure if he should answer this truthfully. “We’re repeating training, trying to catch my nephews up,” he whispers, eliciting a nod from me as I look at the clumsy boys. Then, I look back to Aemond.
“May I have a try?” I cross my arms, watching his face convert to a look of surprise. He tilts his head in surprise at my request to join him, but he is not one to deny a woman what they ask of him.
"I am always happy to demonstrate my prowess," he replies, "But I should warn you that you may be unable to keep up. Is it still your wish to try?" He seems amused, but there is no obvious mockery in his tone.
I merely giggle in response, taking a training spear from a nearby barrel and looking at him, emerald earrings flashing in the light. “Do not underestimate me, Prince Aemond. All because I hold beauty and the body of a woman.”
I then turn around on my heels with grace, pointing the spear to him with a sly smile. “Shall we?” He stands up fully now, a smile crossing his face.
"Very well, but do not complain if you get hurt. I am no easy foe." Aemond's eyes glint in the sunlight, the color of amethysts. He takes his training sword from its scabbard on his left hip and swings it around, testing its weight; then, points it at her in preparation, taking a wide stance and beginning to circle her. "After you, lady."
My form is nearly perfect and firm, light on my feet which is something Aemond is not. So, I use it to my advantage. In my time at home, I’ve practiced the art of dance battles. I move beautifully, with haste and grace, but with power.
Aemond moves forward, going for a swing as I then duck to the floor after moving closer, letting him swing above my head and then turning in a circle on one foot, calf hitting the back of his knees and knocking him down onto his back with little to no effort. I stand when my circle is complete, stabilizing my body then spin my spear between my fingers, stopping to point the edge to his neck with a grin. “Do you wish for your life, cousin?” I coo, lips parted slightly in a taunting fashion. I watch as he pants and looks at me with flushed humiliation and shock, glancing at his brother who seems overly amused.
“I yield,” he croaks out, relaxing once I’ve moved my spear away. However, I take his hand and pull him up with ease. Aemond avoids eye contact, ashamed of losing to a woman. It’s prominent on his face that he’s awfully shy now, but speaks up much to my surprise. ”You’ve bested me, My Lady… I’m impressed."
I love the sound of a man wallowing in self-pity over losing to a woman. But, I know I must remain kind, for he has done nothing to deserve such hatred.
“Oh dear cousin, I have not bested you,” I whisper, helping him stable his footing and dust dirt off his clothing. “You are a talented fighter, just unaware of my style. You came in expecting something easy, which was your downfall. There's nothing wrong with that.” I look into his eyes, my gaze softening. I don’t pity him, but I also don’t mock him in any way. I could’ve easily made a joke of him, but I didn’t.
Strangely, I refused to.
Aemond seems surprised by my response before the sound of slow clapping fills our ears. I turn, spotting Aegon with a sly grin on his face. It made me feel sick.
“Amazing show, well done!” Aegon laughed. Aemond’s shame was much more prominent now. “You’ve been taken down by a lady. A LADY. Gods this is humiliating for us all!” I clench my teeth, holding my tongue. Aegon spins his sword in a circle between his fingertips then goes to hit his brother with the side. I step in front of the blow, causing him to drop the blade clumsily and stare at me in frustration. I step forward, getting right in his face.
“This lady will best you as well if it comes to it,” I snapped, his eyes going from surprise to a fit of lustful anger. I grimace, growling softly under my breath.
“Is that so?” Aegon murmurs, looking down at my figure and then into my eyes once more. I fight every urge to spit in his face. “Go on then, darling.”
I take the opportunity, lunging for him but being pulled back by Aemond swiftly squirming and kicking. “COME AT ME YOU LAZED CUNT!” I scream, spitting at him and then tugging away from Aemond, glaring daggers at the older. “Go bury yourself in your wine, you pathetic prince.” I then grab Aemond’s hand, dragging him off and into the kingdom without another word.
Anger fumes from me, my frustrations growing as I yell in anger, Aemond staring at me in shock. “That selfish rat!” I then bury my face in my hands, sitting down against the wall on the cold stone floor. I stay like that for a good while, but then I hear Aemond sitting down next to me, a sigh escaping him.
“It’s alright, truly,” He murmurs, making my anger calm only slightly. Mother will scold him, though it never makes him stop.” He looks over to me, hugging his knees to his chest. I nod a bit, looking down at the floor.
“Let us change the topic, yes? The dwelling gets us nowhere," I murmur, staring up at the wall in front of me. “If you were to have any dragon, claimed or not, who would you have?” I look at him, his face deep in thought.
“Perhaps Caraxes,” he says, frowning slightly. “Mayhaps Vhagar if we’re stretching to more unrealistic desires.” He laughed weakly, looking at me. “What of you? Who would you have as your companion?”
I don’t even need to think, I answered immediately. “Silverwing.” He furrows his brows at the swiftness of my response but then inspects me and a small smile comes to his lips.
“A beautiful dragon for a beautiful lady,” he comments, making me roll my eyes. “Surely she’d love you. You’re both very unique.”
“Perhaps Vhagar will enjoy you as well then,” I responded, glancing at him. I saw him glance at me as well, then we both laughed.
How unrealistic.
I go to ask more about his interest, but then I spot my father storming out of a council room nearby. He spots me as my mother rushes to him and begs him to calm down. I stand up quickly, while Aemond remains seated due to his hesitancy to become involved. He grabs me, picking me up as he continues walking.
“We’re leaving NOW,” Father demands, Aemond now rushing to his feet and looking at me. I look back at him in confusion, squirming and reaching for him. All he does is stare and glance at the council door, mouthing a phrase that will stick with me for years to come.
