aerion tries to win DIL!reader back
based on this ask for PT/W&P universe
[original fic for this here]
[version with valarr and baelor is here]
Word count: ~3.1k
Tags: 18+/MDNI, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, (significant) age gap, younger!reader (20s), allusions to smut, humour, nothing else really never proofread, (please let me know if I missed any)
Disclaimer: I do not own any ‘A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms’ characters. I do not claim to own any of the ‘A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms’ characters. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.
Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)
Aerion chewed on the nuts (obnoxiously) and watched you from his seat at the table. You were glowing in the fire light. Your skin, your hair, even the shiny material of your gown was making you appear almost magical.
He had always known you were beautiful, it was one of the things that convinced him to marry you in the first place, but tonight, you looked the way you did the night of your wedding. You were wearing a pretty purple dress and your hair was threaded through with pearls as you moved about the open space, greeting lords and ladies.
The annual garden party in Summerhall was in full swing, and usually he would have left by now, choosing to entertain himself in his favourite brothel in the town proper, but something was keeping him there tonight, the sight of you.
His father sat a ways down from him, slumped low in his chair and perpetual frown on his face. Some lord was at his side, speaking about something, but Maekar was not paying attention, his eyes set on you as well.
"Your wife is a rather chatty thing, is she not?" One of the lordlings in attendance spoke up, smirking as he drank from his cup of wine and looked in Aerion's direction.
"Yes, she is, and?" Aerion asked, raising one eyebrow with a dangerous glint in his eye. He would not tolerate any insult. The lordling's smirk slipped away and he shook his head, mumbling a 'nothing' and refocusing on his cup. Aerion huffed and popped another few nuts in his mouth.
Yes, you were a chatty thing, he had known that even at the time of your betrothal, and though it had become one of his greatest annoyances since the wedding, tonight he appreciated it just a little. You looked rather lovely as you moved about the crowd making easy conversation.
When you finally circled back around, you draped yourself on the arm of Maekar's chair, sitting there casually and leaning down to say something in his ear. Aerion grimaced, chastisement rising on his tongue, but he was a bit too far to bother.
He saw his father's frown deepen as a pout pushed at your mouth. He heard his father groan, shutting his eyes for a moment as he said something to you through gritted teeth. You laid a hand on his shoulder, responding, but Maekar was staring you right in the eye with a harsh look and Aerion had had enough of watching it.
"Wife!" He barked, raising an eyebrow when you huffed and then turned to look at him with a scowl that would have made his father proud. "Stop bothering the old man and come here."
You snorted, smirking at Maekar over your shoulder, then getting up and walking over to Aerion. Maekar was scowling at him from behind you, and he grunted something about having respect for your elders before ultimately scoffing and turning away to take along drink from his cup.
"What were you bothering him about?" Aerion asked as you settled down in the seat beside him, slumping a little with a frown and resting your chin in your hand.
"Wouldn't you like to know," you mumbled, and he ground his jaw, anger blazing hot within him.
Of course you wouldn't tell him that you had actually been begging Maekar to take you up to his study and ravish you. That you had seen the way he was eyeing your breasts in your pretty new dress and you thought him very handsome in the velvet doublet and you wanted him to take you over his desk.
And you of course would not tell him that his father had rebuked you, told you to stop your whining and pouting and to be a good girl and wait for the party to end. That he would take you however you wished in the privacy of your chambers later and to cease your arguing before his headache pulsed any worse. He threatened to take you over his knee for a spanking in front of everyone just before Aerion called you over, and now you were annoyed that you were pulled away just as the conversation was taking a favourable turn.
"Whatever you may need to ask, you must always ask me, is that clear?" Aerion ground out, frowning at you with distaste.
"Mhm," you hummed dismissively, "of course, husband," you responded, but you were looking toward Maekar again and irritation blazed in Aerion's chest.
+++
Since that evening, something new rose in Aerion's chest when he looked at you. It was a fire he had not felt before, or at least not at this intensity concerning you. When he caught sight of your face, he found himself wanting something very odd: your favour.
"Here," he grunted one morning, nudging the plate of blackberries in your direction as he chewed on a bite of bread.
You were slumped low in your chair, your eyes still puffy and bleary from sleep as you rubbed at them. You were sitting next to Maekar, leaning your face onto his arm as he focused on his own plate. Occasionally he would hold a piece of something in front of your face, pressing it to your mouth until you took ahold of it with your teeth, then bring his hand back and act like he had not done it.
Aerion did not even bat an eye at this display. You were affectionate with everyone in your life, even him at times though he had loathed it before. His father apparently suffered the same fate, and he did not care.
You blinked at him, glancing at the plate before looking back at Aerion's face. You smiled a little at the gesture, though a part of you was apprehensive, and reached out to pick one up and eat it.
Maekar watched the interaction with sharp eyes, wondering why his son was suddenly being so kind.
"What are you playing at boy?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at his son. Aerion scoffed, shrugging his shoulders.
"She likes blackberries, Father, I was only moving the plate closer," he answered, mumbling as he picked up one of the berries himself and ate it.
You ignored the two, simply squeezing Maekar's hand where you held it on his lap under the table and rubbing your cheek against his sleeve a little as you settled down again.
"Thank you, Aerion," you mumbled quietly, and he smirked, leaning back in satisfaction in his seat and sipping from his cup of ale.
"Do not test my patience so early in the morning," Maekar grumbled, but you just sighed and snuggled into his arm further, ignoring his ire.
+++
This odd behaviour continued on after that. It was little things at first, nudging a plate in your direction or having your glass refilled before you could even note that it was empty.
Then it was gifts, beautiful jewels and garments of fine silk, hand-embroidered and sparkling. He gifted you a brooch fashioned with the Targaryen sigil and pinned it on you himself.
You kindly accepted all the gifts, thanking him and then running to show his Father. But all the purchases annoyed Maekar, not only because of the attention Aerion was laving on you, but also the money the boy was wasting on it.
"When did you get this dress?" Maekar asked one night in his chambers, brow furrowed in confusion as he gripped the laces. He was undressing you as you had asked, holding you tightly by the laces to get you to cease your fidgeting.
"Oh, Aerion gifted it to me a few days ago," you answered nonchalantly, turning to look at him over your shoulder. "Now will you please take it off?"
Maekar grunted and undid the laces with sharp motions, almost tearing the side of the dress as he did it, an inexplicable rage burning in his chest.
"Careful, please!" You gasped, frowning at him over your shoulder. "The silk is delicate!"
He just glared at you before pushing it off your shoulders, watching you wriggle out of it and leave it in a heap on the floor. You wore only a thin shift underneath, a silky thing held on by the barest of straps, and you sighed in relief as you padded around to his bed and clambered in.
"Come, come," you called, patting the mattress beside you, "your warmth is very necessary, Father. It is cold out," you pouted, snuggling up under the covers as you waited for him to join you.
He just stood there for a moment, staring at you and then the crumpled dress on the floor. Aerion was a calculated boy, he only did things to receive something in return. Why was he gifting you dresses and jewels? Did he know of your trysts with him? Was he aware of your place in Maekar's bed?
"Father! Don't keep me waiting!" You whined angrily, patting the bed again as he growled and huffed and tore his thoughts back to the present moment.
"I am coming, you impatient demoness," he bit, shucking off his own clothes and then joining you in bed.
+++
Aerion did not bother to knock when he came looking for his father. He had a determined steeliness in his eyes, jaw set as he readied to convince his father on why a holiday to Sunspear with you would be a good idea.
When he walked in, he paused to find you already there, slumped low in a chair across from his father's desk, tapping one of your feet incessantly against the front of his desk and pouting. His father was scowling as he tried to write something on a bit of parchment, and you looked to be mid speech.
"And she truly said Cyrelle's jewels were subpar as if-" you cut yourself off, turning your head in the direction of the door and then turning back with a little 'oh'.
"What do you want?" Maekar grunted out, hand clenching around his quill. "Have you come to complain my ears off about your friends jewellery insults as well?" You huffed indignantly, glaring at Maekar.
"It is an important story, Father!" You squealed, but he just grunted and murmured a sarcastic, 'I'm sure it is'.
"I have come to ask permission for a trip to Dorne, Father," Aerion finally ground out, crossing his arms and planting his feet as he stood beside your chair.
"Oo," you perked up with interest, glancing between son and father. If Aerion were to go on a trip, you could be even more of an open nuisance to Maekar!
"Whatever for?" Maekar asked, furrowing his brow and shaking his head as he glanced up at his son.
"I'd like to take my wife to meet Mother's family, perhaps take leisure in the springs for a few days," he answered, carefully looking at you from the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction.
Your mouth dropped open and a wide, wondrous, look appeared in your eye. You had spoken to both Aerion and Maekar before about your desire to see Dorne, to travel and soak in the sun (Maekar often told you that the sun there was the same as the sun in Summerhall but you told him it was not and then the two of you argued endlessly). You resided in the Dornish Marches after all, it was not an absurdly far journey.
"Absolutely not," Maekar dismissed immediately, shaking his head and attempting to return back to his letter. "What an absurd idea," he grumbled.
"Uh! Father!" You gasped, interjecting quickly and standing up beside Aerion. "It is not absurd! It sounds rather wonderful!"
Maekar looked up then, at the smug satisfaction on Aerion's face and the pleading look in your eye. Your hands were clasped together in front of you and you were pouting (as you were more often than not).
"Oh please, Father! You know I have always wanted to go!"
"Yes, Father," Aerion drawled, smirking a little, "do let us."
Maekar gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he glared at his son. There was no fucking world in which he was allowing the two of you to go gallivanting off on holiday together on your own.
"Fine," Maekar finally said, and there was something akin to a mischievous glint in his eye. "I shall accompany you. I could do with a visit myself and I'm sure Baelor will wish to send correspondence."
Aerion's face fell into an aggravated frown while you squealed and beamed, hopping in place before rounding the desk and throwing yourself onto Maekar, kissing aggressively over his cheeks as he grunted and told you to get off with no real force behind his words.
Aerion grunted a thank you and swiftly left the room, hands clenched into fists at his side. When the door clicked shut behind him, you kissed Maekar properly, licking your tongue into his mouth and gripping his face firmly between your hands. You pulled back with an obnoxious sound, smirking as you slunk down to your knees.
"You have made me very happy, Father," you teased, sliding your hands up and down his thighs as he attempted to catch his breath. "Now let me return the favour."
+++
It was easier when you still disliked Aerion, Maekar thought. Before, you wouldn't even bat an eyelash at your husband, breezing past him to come find your Father and drape yourself all over him. Aerion would go off into town for a brothel or a tavern with his spoilt little lord friends, and you would eat alone with Maekar or the rest of the children, teasing him and poking until eventually you received either a laugh or a spanking.
But now, there was no peace. The boy was apparently adamant on getting his wife to love him again. He danced with you at a feast held in honour of Daella's tenth nameday, holding onto your hand and escorting you to the space for dancing, as Maekar watched on with a clenched jaw. It was pure torture to watch you smile so prettily at Aerion, to give him all the looks you usually reserved just for your beloved Father.
It did not end there though. No, then Aerion was inviting you to come watch him train with the guards in the yard. He was a skilled fighter, no one could deny him this, and you were easily convinced out of a bored walk in the gardens.
You enjoyed it far more than you anticipated, even teased him when he gave you triumphant looks after a particularly smooth manoeuvre, and you agreed to return on another day.
When Maekar heard of this new development, he glared into the fire in his study for a full minute before he announced that he would join you the next time you ventured out. He was only keeping an eye on how his son's progressed, nothing more, but the way he kept close to your side belied something far deeper...
"The boy does not hold his mace properly," Maekar grumbled at your side, grinding his jaw as he bounced his leg with impatience.
"Ooh yes, of course," you responded slyly, smirking at him out of the corner of your eye. "The Anvil would know," you teased, giggling quietly as you folded your hands in your lap. He raised an eyebrow and looked at you from the corner of his eye in return.
"Mmm, I would love to watch you display your skills, Father," you continued, biting your lip seductively and batting your lashes at him. "All big and strong, wielding your weapon." Maekar coughed, adjusting himself in his seat and shooting you a glare.
"You know very well how good I am at wielding my weapon," he spat in response, sitting up a little straighter despite the scowl on his face, and you giggled again.
"Oooh yes, I am very well aware," you smirked, "would you show me privately in your chambers later?" you asked in a dangerous whisper, leaning closer. He shot you a fiery look and said nothing in response, but you just smiled and decided to take it as an assent.
+++
From then on, it became a battle. Maekar would not allow for this farce to continue. He would not compete for your attention...
"Come, wife," Aerion began at lunch, speaking over a mouthful, "when we finish our meal let us go and inspect my new armour. It has just returned."
You opened your mouth to respond, but Maekar grunted.
"She will do no such thing. I require a cupbearer for my meeting with the lords of the Marches and your wife has already agreed to this." He did not even bother to look at Aerion as he spoke, drinking his ale and glancing in your direction. You grimaced a little, shutting your mouth and smiling apologetically at your husband.
Aerion gritted his teeth and glared at his father, going huffy and silent as he finished his meal.
"Come riding with me wife," Aerion suggested another day, taking a hold of your hand on top of the table. "It is a good day for it."
"She cannot ride, Aerion," Maekar growled, putting down the letter he had been reading and glaring at his son.
"It is never too late to learn," Aerion responded with a smirk, readying to stand up when Maekar grunted again.
"And have her thrown from the beast to break her fucking neck?" He spat, continuing to glare at his son. He reached over and grasped you around the arm, standing up and forcing you with him. "I will not let you risk your bride's life so carelessly you foolish idiot. Now come along, girl, you can write some of my correspondence. These lords do not cease to pester me."
Maekar practically dragged you from the room, heaving angrily as he stormed you away from the dining room and you giggled, skipping a little to catch up with his marching pace.
Aerion slammed his hand down on the table as he watched the two of you go, and he chewed angrily on a bit of roast, chugging ale. This was not over...
When you reached Maekar's study and he threw himself down angrily in his chair, you settled yourself in his lap and laved kisses over his bearded cheeks. You caressed him there and giggled incessantly.
"Cease your giggling," he grumbled, though his arm around your waist was tight and comforting. You quieted a little and just beamed at him.
"It is just nice to have you competing for my attention for once," you finally beamed, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzled your face into his neck.
"I was not competing for your attention," he growled, but you just giggled and kissed him on the throat.