summary: choosing to honor your house had never seemed like a high cost until you are pushed too far by your husband, Prince Aerion Targaryen.
note: this is part four of Little Bluebird! (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four - you are here!) this is the calm before the stormβ¦
content warning: dark themes | MDNI
please prioritize your mental health and well-being before choosing to read!
word count: 4.3K
note: this is canon divergent bc Maekar is acting as Hand of the King instead of Valarr and in this case Aerion is recovering in Kings Landing
The lurching in your stomach was ceaseless and the constant shaking of the carriage did not make matters any better. You had picked at your nails until they were throbbing and chewed the inside of your cheek with such consternation that the pain was proof of it allβthis was your reality. Your brother however, remained unbothered as he rode on horseback, clopping along just outside the cart with a disinterested expression as the procession made their way through the Roseroad.It had been days into your journey heading back toward Kings Landing, the summons arriving to your family home a few days after the news of Baelor Targaryen's tragic passing in Ashford.
The familiar road brought back memories of the day you had finally been taken from the Red Keep after a few weeks of confusion. Your brother had taken the route back as the perfect time to finally piece together part of your memories, shattering the peaceful confabulation your brain had created. Without mincing his words, he explained in horrific detail your family's tragic deaths and the settlement for you as a suitable replacement. He was quick to witness how listless and despondent you became and vowed to return you to what you used to be, watching you settle back into your home until everything came crumbling down when the raven arrived. Watching how quick you became ill, he saw it as a sign you'd be better off with the maesters in Kings Landing, no longer hesitant with your return.
Shouts from outside the carriage alerted you of short distance left to approach the castle, hearing it was only a few leagues away your body jolted at the thought of stepping out to stretch your legs. You sneak a peek out of the cartage, accidentally making eye contact with your brother who then calls out for a halt. Within seconds, every previous motion that bothered you had come to a stop. A knock brings your body to face the wooden door to where your knight, Ser Tommen, spoke out.
"Your brother calls for your presence my lady"
You give a low reply, letting him know you'd need just a moment when the door opened to your brother's annoyed expression. He doesn't give you a moment of respite as he shoves his way into the carriage and commands the door shut. The two of you sit in silence until it becomes too much for your sibling and he hissed out his words. "You have to understand that this isΒ notΒ something we can fight"
You nod your head, not bothering to respond at all since it wouldn't matter what you said. The decision had been made and nothing could change that. Seeing the defeated look on your face, your brother softened his heated stare and let out a low sigh before he peeked out the small window. Once satisfied, he shut the curtain and leaned close.
"It doesn't matter if he is the prince," he brought his hand to cradle your face, wiping the unshed tears from your eyes. "You send a raven and IΒ willΒ be here on the morrow."
Or you could've refused in the first placeβ¦
You remain silent and resolve to just nod. The life that once thrived through your bones at your childhood home has grown brittle, crumbling the further you traveled away. Gone were the days you'd spend walking the bailey with your guard, reading on the sill of your favorite spot in the family library. Everything and nothing was pulled from underneath your feet and left you stumbling back toward the life you had no recollection of but neverending fear for. In the short time the royal family had granted you peace at your family home, it had come to an end.
Frustrated at your lack of effort to speak or look at him, your brother lets out a sigh and leaves the carriage without a glance back. A few moments later, another shout rings out and the carriage moves forward, only this time a little faster than before.
When you finally catch sight of the high walls of the Red Keep, you feel your chest pull tight with a string of dread, pulling tighter as the castle stones become more defined. Your eyes unconsciously drift up toward one of the high towers of the castle, the open balcony capturing your attention rather than the opening gates or the welcoming party that stood in the open courtyard. It isn't until the carriage comes to a stop that you realize that among the various people waiting to greet you, Maekar Targaryen stood there tooβthe unmistakable frown on his face resting where it always was.
A small knock is rattled against the door, making your body pull away from the small window before the door opens to a dutiful Ser Tommen, a governing expression on his face as he holds out his hand to help you out of the transport. You take the hand, your skin coming in contact with the glove dyed to match your house colors, and step down to unshaking ground. You see your brother talking with Maekar from the corner of your eye but choose to follow procedure and greet everyone else before finally turning to the elder gentleman. You give a quick bow and nod to the man, his eyes resting on your stoic face and vacant stare before he gestures everyone to do their job. He turns to you, instructing you to say your goodbye's before joining him at his solar.
Your left alone with your brother who waits until Maekar is out of earshot to speak in a low voice. "Don't forget our words, hmm?" His half-smile seemed to ache just as much as you did as you nodded, biting your lip to stop your cries. "'Our wings, unbroken"
Looking at him, you realize he forgot that you were no longer a part of this 'our' he was speaking of. You were married to a Targaryen, your words were now 'fire and blood'.
He gives you a tight smile before pulling you into a tight embrace, kissing your forehead and whispering his wishes for your health and safety. He mentions his clearance on having Ser Tommen stay with you and pulls away. With one last farewell, you back away until your brother is back on his horse. His retreating back is the last you see of him before Ser Tommen calls to escort you away.
ββββββββββββ
"I am sure yourΒ filialΒ brother has explained your return" was the first thing Maekar said as you entered the private solar of the Hand. You take a quick look around the dimly lit room before you nod. "Yes," you begin, holding your fingers tightly behind your back. "He informed me of Prince Baelor's passing in Ashford. I offer you my deepest condolences your grace."
Maekar gives a grunt, turning away to face the various books on the shelves as he seemingly ignored your words. You watch as the man leans a hand on a lower shelf, gripping the wooden surface and turning his knuckles white. You could sympathize with the man, having felt the pain he held within his body. He finally turns back to you before he finally speaks.
"Your return is primarily to serve as an attendant to Prince Aerion and then soon after, he shall sail to Lys the second his complete recovery is achieved"
You hardly remember what was said after Prince Maekar mentioned Lys, the news becoming so jarring it left your mind blank as you were instructed from the solar. Ser Tommen had stayed close by your side as you were shown around, familiarizing yourselves with the layout of the famous castle until you finally reach Aerion's chambers which happened to be the room right next to yours. You're given time to refresh before you are directed toward the room you had been dreading to be in.
Walking into Aerion's chambers, the first thing you get is a large whiff of incense and candle wax, the scent hitting your nose and leaving you to scrunch your nose at the aroma that assaulted your senses. Small streams of light peek through the drapes that covered the lattice windows, casting a large spotlight the attendants walked through as they focus on the prince's betterment. Letting Ser Tommen stand guard just outside the cracked door, you walk further into the room until you are at Aerion's bedside and able to see the face that popped into your head the many weeks you had been away. You can't hold back the gasp at the sight of his motionless body, so still and arranged that it felt like you were at a viewing before a burning funeral pyre. Your hand had flown to your mouth as you look over his state and assess the depth of his injuries. Aerion's pristine face had now been battered and bruised, his eye swollen and lip split. Something washed over you at the look of his once flawless frame had now been beaten and pulverized.Β
Despite everything, Aerion wasΒ beautiful.Β
You must've stared forever, watching the rise and fall of his chest until a low cough called your attention away from Aerion. You pull your eyes away from his docile body and find Maester Robynn shakily making his way to the corner of the room, beckoning you with his frail hand. You join the elder, you listen to his whispered updates of the prince.Β
"For days, the prince has come and gone through consciousness and milk of the poppy is given in rotations every other hour for the pain princess," You ignore the title, and continue to listen to his findings. "There are more wounds all through his body but recovery is feasible"Β
You both come to agreement for Aerion's care and soon, life at the Red Keep slowly fell into routine.Β
Your first few visits with Aerion were as stiff as his body was as he laid on his recovery bed.
You had mostly avoided looking in his direction and conversed with the attendants, seeking to know more of their achievements and routines, when you couldn't do that you came to embroider in your spare time. That's how Maekar had found you that first day, surprising you by visiting his disgraced son. You had gotten a disapproving scowl and a reminder that you were to attend toΒ your husband.Β
Now you awkwardly stand off to the side of Maester Robynn as he attended each of Aerion's wounds with the help of the acolytes. Your face pinching each time the maester pulled back the dressings on Aerion's wound located across his pelvis, inner groin and upper thigh.Β
Slowly, as each day passed, less and less assistants appeared and you had become one of the sole people to attend to the prince aside from Maester Robynn. It was in the care of Aerion that you came to loved the art of medicine, taking any chance Maester Robynn was present to learn and ask questions he would shake his head at. You came to learn a lot of medicine as the days passed and when Aerion finally started showing signs of recovery, he was left in your care at Maekar's behest. It was on the fourth day when you had exploring the library that the idea came to you.Β
ββββββββββββ
After leaving Ser Tommen with a nod, you enter the familiar room you had come to know with the many days that passed in Kings Landing. It is until the door is closed behind you with a definitive click that you finally let out a sigh and a smile slowly makes its way onto your face.Β
"Shall we continue where we left off?" you ask, giving a low chuckle into the silent room as you made your way forward and to a low seat just beside the bed. The book decorated with gold paint and elegant script rivaling your own sat atop the blue pinned fabric of the seat, left completely untouched by everyone but yourself. Grasping the heavy text with both hands, you settle into your seat not bothering to adjust the sky blue silk that fell around your legs.
"Now" you let out a low scoff. "Please don't rush me" you whisper teasingly. You received no responseβsomething you've grown used toβand settle to open the book to where you last left off and began to read. The time slipped passed you as you read page after page, only stopping when your throat dried and you needed water. You had originally tried to read his family histories but the blood and gore became too much and you settled for romances or the occasional adventure tale. Luckily, it was your pick and romance had been the filler of silence despite the circumstances.
"and with little space between the two, the young knight took his charge into his arms and proclaimed out for all to hear the depth of his loveβ¦" on the last word, your eyes traveled to the comatose body that had not moved since the last time you'd given the prince his medicine.
When he wasn't pacing the room or causing terror, Aerion could be quite beautiful, almost ethereal.
You don't notice that you had moved from the seat, putting down the book in the spot you had just occupied, and left just a small space between you two as you come to asses his face closely. The bruising had now faded into a yellow-ish tint and the split in his lip had somewhat healed and still, looking at the quiet unmoving prince, it made your face fall into a frown.
"It's sad," you confess. "This story of love is the closest thing the two of us will ever have to it"
You can feel your face twist with sorrow, the tremble in your heart spreading until you feel a few tears slip down your face. You quickly wipe the tears away and force a smile as you stand. "It seems this story was a poor choice on my part," you sniff, blinking back the raw emotion behind your eyes. "I will bring something better next time, yes?"Β
Your body must've cast a shadow or bothered his space because his body began to twitch and then his eyes slowly opened up to look at you. You watch as Aerion's eyes flutter open, blinking at you slowly like he was still processing your presence being there. You can't help but freeze as he looks your face over.Β
"Is this another dream?" he croaked, clearing his throat. You move forward at the sound of his slurred tone, the medication still lingering within his system. Your hands reach past his naked chest and land on his shoulder, gently propping him up while adding another pillow behind his head. You are proud of how well you avoided the intensity of Aerion's stare, the close proximity making his already big and dazed eyes glimmer. You quickly turn and gather a cup of water before helping Aerion so he can sip at the cup.Β
"Take it easy, your grace" you finally whisper.Β
A frown immediately paints Aerion's face at your response, his lips coming to pout as he muttered, "No, not a dream"
"And what makes you so sure it isn't?"
Aerion gives you a long look before taking a sip from the cup in your hands, bringing one hand to cover one of your own. You pull the cup away and place it on the table. "If this was a dream, you'd be calling me something else" he says.
You choose to ignore his words and ask how he was feeling, coming around the bed to remove the covers and check on his stitching until his hard grip stopped your hand in their tracks. Your eyes snap up to his wide ones, mouth hanging open as he demands to know what you are doing.Β
"I am attending to you as I have been these past few days" you explain, pulling your hand away to try again. His hands grip harder and he hissed at you to sit down. He released you and gripped the sheets into fists, bringing them back over the lower half of his body for a speckle of decency. The sight of Aerion's attempt at modesty brought a smile to your face, something you didn't think would be possible in his conscious state or presence.Β
"I will need to check your wounds sooner than late. It will happen now or when that milk of the poppy makes you sleep again"
Aerion only shook his head, licking at his lip as he demanded a maester instead. You figured the proud princeling would've taken advantage of this opportunity, having a woman strip and tend to him. You stand and turn to face him.
"I will give you a few minutes," you sigh, stepping around until you are half way to the door. "Once you are asleep, I will be sure to check the stitches"Β
Aerion goes to say something but you are already out the door and telling Ser Tommen you were to return within a few minutes and walk straight to your chamber and close the door.
ββββββββββββ
Aerion's attitude changed soon after he woke from his poppy induced coma.
Anytime you attempted to enter his room, he would yell to have you removed and denied entry. It got to the point where the maesters had suggested you stay away as to notΒ overwhelmΒ the prince. You had to hold back the scoff you had wanted to let out at that.Β They never showed you that kindness when you had been in recovery.Β It took Prince Maeker visiting to settle the issue.Β
For the time being, you were to avoid coming near Aerion so as he may recover without becoming upset.
It had been days and from what Ser Tommen could tell you, Aerion had started to settle for salves and insisted on attempting to walk despite the maesters strict instructions to remain in bed. So you were left to live life in Kings Landing the same way you did before, secluded.Β
They should've just left you home at this point.
"We can take a walk through the gallery," Ser Tommen suggested, following closely behind on your daily walk in the courtyard. "I hear the new additions have exquisite embroidery patterns that may be in your interest"
You slow your pace and turn to look at the knight from your home, his trying smile making a soft spot bubble in your heart. Ser Tommen, since coming under your instruction, had done his duty with the dedication deserved of a knight. You can still remember how quickly the two of you came to become familiar, conversing on your daily walks through the bailey back home. His kindness and disposition making him one of your utmost trusted confidant. In any other circumstance, his looks would've made you blush and wonder at the possibility ofΒ what if.
You give Ser Tommen a wide smile at the mention of your favorite past-time. "That sounds lovely!"Β
Grinning down at your smiling face, he offers his arm with a dramatic flair with a overly polite 'my lady'. You can't help the laugh that escapes you as you accept with an equally enthusiastic 'my good ser' and let Ser Tommen guide you toward the entrance of the Red Keep. You had been mid-laugh at a small remark Ser Tommen had whispered to you when a white cloaked knight came into your path with a small bow and message.
"Prince Aerion has summoned you to his chambers"
You know Ser Tommen could feel the way your body locked up at the mention of the prince and you were grateful he made no comment on the matter as he nodded to the knight and began guiding you up the steps and toward the familiar hallway leading to your room. "Would you like to freshen up before you see him princess?"
"No," you reply, the word spilling from you quickly. "Let's not keep him waiting. I'm sure it will be a short visit regardless"
You release your arm from his and drag your hands over the surface of the simple blue dress you wore, smoothing the wrinkles and marching forward until you were faced directly in front of Aerion's chamber door. You settle your nerves as the white cloak at the door knocked then announced your presence, opening the door just enough for you to slip through before closing the door. Too focused on taking in the changed room, you fail to notice Aerion who stood propped up against the pillar of the open balcony until he finally turns to look at you.
"I see you've enjoyed your return to Kings Landing" he stated, placing his palm flat on the wall. His head cocked to asses your expression, looking over the soft blue you wore on your body. You find yourself moving forward when his hand stutters against the pillar, your hands instinctively coming to brace his frame at his hips. Before Aerion could speak or make sense of your actions, you had thrown his arm over your shoulder and wrapped your arm around his waist.Β
Aerion could only stare as you began to fuss over him, asking him a series of 'does it hurt? are you alright?' and ranging to angrily demanding he make sense of himself. His eyes had come to travel over your worried brow and pouted lips, not having seen you since he demanded your removal from his chambers. He almost forgot why he ended his detox until you mentioned summoning a knight to fetch the maester.
"No," he hissed, leaning into your frame as you guided him from the fresh blowing winds and toward the mattress.Β
You settle him down onto the furs, keeping yourself close enough to assist him should he need it. Aerion repeats himself with a snarl and waits until you finally look up to cock his brow at you. You give him a small scrunch of your nose at his attitude, not being able to control your expression before you speak. "I've made the best of what I could since my arrival"
Aerion allows your response to linger in the quiet before he speaks. "I was told you were to return when you regained your memory," he comments, keeping his gaze on you as you nod. "So you have regained your memories?"
At this you shake your head, your hands come to rest on your lap as you pick against your nails. "No," you sigh before looking at his frustrated face. "We received word about your uncle, which I offer my condolence to you, then a summons arrived"Β
"A summons?" Aerion ignored yourΒ
You nod. "Yes, your father demanded our presence back immediately. My brother personally escorted me to Kings Landing and I am to remain at your side while your health is recovering" You peek toward the Targaryen princeling, catching the violet eyes staring at you.Β
"So that explains the shadow I've never seen" he reasoned, the tone of his voice sounding more annoyed than reasonable.
"Oh, you must mean Ser Tommen. Were you worried?"
"Why would I be worried?" he scoffed.
"Because you are my β¦husband"
Aerion's eyes snapped to meet yours, the words that fell from your mouth making him sit up without needing assistance. Wild emotion danced around his iris as he fixed his gaze on yours and asked you to repeat yourself. It reminded you of when you woke what seemed like many moons ago.Β
"So youΒ knowΒ then?"
You nod. "Not all the details, just the truth. We were married in the sept, made man and wife and then I lost my memories." You notice his eyes glaze in thought as he nods while you continue. "I know about my sister and I thank you for your patience during the confusion. It must've been hard"
Aerion bristled at your words and moved his eyes to where your hand had come to rest on his clenched fist. You brag your thumb across the surface of his knuckles in an attempt to comfort. "I was told we were quite happy, before I came to fall from the steps just outside of our shared room"
He holds himself still as he takes in your expression, eyes filled with sympathies that he would usually spurn. You call out his title, a habit, and Aerion wasted no time to correct it.
"You would call me your prince" he murmured. Aerion looked off toward the window where the sun had now begun to set. You felt a small twinge in your heart at his confession, his low tone seemingly like a small child that was jilted. You scoot in close and pat his hands to gain his attention before you speak once more. "I've discussed this with the maesters and although they suggest I wait until my memories return, I don't want to wait for something that may never return," You don't allow him to speak, starting up once more. "This momentaryΒ confusionΒ could serve as a sort of second chance β¦ a chance for the both of us to come together once more"
The silence in the room seemed to last long enough to where it made you begin to regret your attempts to form a sort of lifeline to Aerion. His face remained unreadable as he moved his eyes over your face many times, his mouth slowly parting as he remained in thought. You begin to pull your hands away when he flipped his to face palm up and he interlocks your fingers with his. The warm from his body immediately spread to your own, making your hands clam up but not release.
Giving your fingers a small squeeze in his own, he pulls your hand forward until you are now hovered over him. You let out a gasp as his eyes come a few blinks from your own and his eyes had shifted into a warmer stare.
"You want us to start again?" he asked, disbelief clear on his face and voice.
+18 mdni, service submission (reader shaves ormund's chest), power imbalance, unprotected piv, clit stimulation, choking, pull out method, kissing, dirty talk, praise, mutual orgasm, ormund is kinda pervy and has a god complex, fem reader, only lightly edited, 0.9k words (guys I finally did it I wrote a fic under 1k i've been trying for months!!!)
ormund hightower loves his special handmaiden. you've got cool fingers and a delicate touch. he cherishes the time he gets with you.
so much, in fact, that he has you on aΒ veryΒ strict schedule.
every night, right at evenfall, ormund calls upon you. he orders you to fill a basin with water for his chambers, and collect a straight razor in order to shave him.
he doesn't like the scratchiness of stubble. it chafes against his doublet and makes him feel unkempt.
you're not the first person to shave him, but ormund is certain you'll be the last. he could never find another who has such gentle hands. could never replace the feeling he gets in his chest when you settle into his lap and use linen to wet the broad expanse of his chest.
you always bring this bowl of salve that creates thick foam when rubbed against his skin. it smells sweet, like open air and sugarcane.
ormund lets you work your magic on him. doesn't say much or ask for more, because you're good at what you do.Β
you slide the sharp edge of the razor across his pectoral, cutting down the prickly stubble until he's smooth again.Β
the water basin turns milky white as you rinse the blade before going right back in to remove the hair.
his chambers are quiet, save for your breathing and his and the steady scrape of steel against skin. ormund watches you, admiring the way your lips are parted just enough he can taste your sigh.Β
everything about you draws him in; the arch of your brows, the shape of your mouth, the scent of you. you're temptation embodied.
and ormundβgods help himβhe gives in every time.Β
his sock grows stiff as you continue your ministrations. and he knows you can feel it, because you give a sweet little smirk in response. barely there, but enough that he knows exactly what you're thinking.
you finish quickly. too quickly. you rinse the razor in the basin one final time, set it aside, and clean the remaining cream from his chest. when you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, you ask, "will that be all, my lord?"
of course ormund knows that,Β yes. that should be all. he should thank you kindly and send you on your way.
he doesn't.Β
instead, his hands find your hips in a practiced manner. "well, there is one more thing you could assist me with," he says. "if you're feelingβ¦kindly."
you nod politely, smirk fully formed now. "anything, my lord," you whisper, voice all low and timid and sultry. "i'm yours to use."
his to use.Β
it makes him feel holy, like you're some sort of worshiper and he's your favorite diety. ormund feels drunk on your submission, cock throbbing in his breeches. "come, sweetling."
you shift closer, bringing one leg over his lap so you're stradddling him. you place your hands on his shoulders for balance, fingers gentle as they move up the curve of his neck to find his nape.
"lift your dress," he orders.Β
and you do, following his instruction without hesitation. the fabric bunches as you gather it, baring yourself to him. no smallclothes, but onlyΒ heΒ would know that.
ormund reaches beneath you to find your cunt, already slick. he lets out a breathy sigh when he feels your clit, pulsing beneath the pad of his finger. "such a needy thing," he mutters.
he leans back in his chair far enough to unlace his breeches and pull his cock out. you lift on instinct, eyes locked on his, and he slides the head of it through your syrupy folds before lining himself up at your opening.
you sink down onto him, and you both let out mirroring sounds of pleasure.
you're so tight and wet, it makes him shiver. the perfect woman for him. he thrusts his cock upwards, slowly at first. but you've done this dance so many times now, it doesnt take him long to find the perfect pace.
ormund fucks you deep. slow enough that you can feel every pulsing vein as he buries his cock inside of you. you make the prettiest noises, low gasps in his ear as he reaches parts of you untouched by another.Β
his pace is fevered, hurtling fast towards the precipice of release.Β
"touch yourself," ormund tells you.
you slip your hand beneath your dress to find your clit. he can feel you clench around him, velvety walls squeezing tight. he knows you're getting close when your balance sways, falling forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck.Β
ormund's quick to grab you, hand finding your neck to pull your attention back to him. "feels good, hm?"
you nod, brows pinched together, eyes wild and zealous. ormund's fingers curl around your throat, and your lips part on a wanton moan. "oh,Β gods. please, pleaseβ"
"give it to me," he orders. "there you go, that's it. you're doing so well for me."Β
he can feel a rush of release coat his cock, sliding down the base of him and dripping down his stones. ormund surges forward and crushes his mouth to yours for the very first time, swallowing up your moans and the taste of your tongue.
you whimper, and it takes everything in him not to finish inside at the sound alone.
ormund hurriedly pulls out of you, spilling his seed between your slick, sliding his cock through your folds to milk himself dry.
you both come down slowly, breathing in each other's air, coming back to earth, to oldtown, to his chambers.
when you're ready, you climb off of him and stand on trembling legs, righting your dress and squaring your shoulders. "i trust you've found some relaxation tonight, my lord."
ormund thinksΒ relaxationΒ is putting it lightly. euphoria, more like. but he simply nods, licks the taste of you off his lips, and says, "same time tomorrow."
