For his twentieth nameday, Queen Alicent presented her second son with a handmaid of his own.
“He is the only one of my children yet without such attendance,” Her Grace is reported to have said. “—let her be sweet and devoted, and quick upon her feet . . . a girl who will swear undying loyalty and service unto him, and to his needs.”
We are told Prince Aemond accepted the gift with all due courtesy, to the queen’s evident satisfaction. Yet if Alicent had intended only to soothe her son’s temper, or to bind him closer to her through gratitude, she misjudged the matter.
For what began as service did not remain so, and what had been offered as obedience took root, in time, as something perilously akin to love. So smitten was the prince with this girl, the pretty bastard daughter of a serving wench from Harrenhal (as Mushroom claimed).
By the end of 130 AC, Aemond had taken his handmaid to his bed and, in time, sired three children upon her. Any hour away from Vhagar was soon spent at the side of his “sweet girl,” as he took to calling her.
These, then, are the tales of their love story.
I. Mushroom's Accounts:
Chapter One: Wherein a Handmaid is Chosen
Chapter Two: Wherein Prince Aemond Makes His Preferences Known
Chapter Three: Wherein Mercy is Given
Chapter Four: Wherein the First Mistake is Made (And Want is Named by No Honest Word)
Chapter Five: Wherein a Dragon Learns Restraint (and Succumbs to Desire)
Chapter Six: Wherein Misery Enjoys Company
Chapter Seven: Wherein a Prince Learns the Shape of Want
Synopsis: To be king means you are gifted with the power to take all you want. King Aemond the Absolute now had the power to take you.
Warnings: Abuse of Power, Mature, 18+, Targcest, Loss of Virginity, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Praise Kink, ¿Manipulation?, Jacaerys being cuckolded
Word Count: 5,736
There are many benefits to being king. Power is the first that comes to mind. To have undisputed control not only over land but also over its citizens is a sensation like no other. For you to be worshiped and revered like a god is an honor bestowed upon only a few, and King Aemond Targaryen was fortunate enough to be one of them.
As a secondborn son, he had only hoped to one day wear the conqueror’s upon his brow– but it was a fantasy. With his half-sister being named heir by the decaying king and his older brother having his own heir, Aemond knew that for him to be king meant the death of his kin. He had no plan to kill for the crown. But with each life taken, he inched closer to the iron throne that he could already feel the cool metal against his leather-clad body.
As his brother abdicated his claim, his half-sister fell. Her faction quickly surrendered and pledged their fealty to him, Aemond One-eye, the reason why the dance of the dragons began. He relished seeing the once fierce, albeit idiotic, supporters of his half-sister kneel before him, declaring him their king. He had taken the most powerful seat in the realm with barely any bloodshed, a feat he thought rather impossible.
Aemond the Absolute, he wishes to be called. A king who all yields to– that all agreed was suitable for the throne. He felt rather benevolent as he oversaw his once traitorous kin’s surrender. The blood of the dragon was scarce now; he’d rather not be the only dragon left in this world, and so, he was kind. He had let Rhaenyra’s remaining kin keep Dragonstone, leaving his nephews and niece their ancestral home. A reminder of what they had lost— and of what he had allowed them to keep.
He, on the other hand, had the Red Keep. The vast castle all to himself as his brother fled, and his sister was taken by her madness. Many times did the thought of offering his eldest nephew a seat in his council cross his mind– a risky, irrational thought, he believed, but a thought brought out by loneliness. To invite Jacaerys into his council means to invite a possible rebellion once more– he’d rather keep him in the desolate caves of Dragonstone.
Aemond needed a wife. A companion. A person who could provide him with heirs and aid him in rebuilding his family. It was an easy enough task if it weren’t for his particularities. He was the blood of the dragon; anything less was insulting. But the blood of Old Valyria was scarce now; the only one truly left who had enough fire in their veins was you. The bastard daughter of the false queen. Your father may be strong, but your mother was Rhaenyra, you were dragon enough, Aemond supposed.
However, a hurdle stood in his way– the same hurdle he faced even in childhood: Jacaerys, your twin brother. King Aemond must admit, he was ever so fond of you in your younger years. You were kind– sweet even. You always shared your cake. You always apologized in your brother’s wake. You always made Aemond feel sympathy for a bastard.
He could recall your childhood so vividly that it brought a dull ache in his chest as he would constantly vie for your attention, but it was always placed on your twin. Your bond with Jacaerys was formed in the womb, and when you two came into the world, your mother was quick to form another bond by binding you to one another.
Aemond had long known this, of course. But never was his younger self deterred, as he was your constant companion when your twin temporarily placed his favor upon Aegon.
“I do not like when he and Luc are with Aegon– they become cruel,” You grumbled to Aemond as he sat with you in the gardens, a plate of cake between you, crumbs on both your lips. “Earlier this morning, he would not stop pulling at my hair!” You added, and Aemond hummed as he stared upon your crumpled face, your dark brows in a furrow, and your braided hair fraying, and bore the truth of your words.
“Perhaps you shall tell your mother,” Aemond suggested as he reached forward to wipe away the icing on your plump and rosy cheek. “If he is cruel now, what more when you two are married?” He added and saw as clear fear flashed in your mud colored eyes. “And you’ve seen how my brother is– Jacaerys seems to worship the ground Aegon walks on. It would not take long before he becomes like him,” Aemond further stated, sewing the seeds of doubt so delicately that even he almost believed it was concern.
“He would not dare!” You exclaimed in fear, looking upon Aemond, who held a stoic expression. “A prince should never pull upon a lady's hair– especially not a princess,” He said, reaching forward to pull at the ribbon that held your braids, letting your hair cascade down your back and running his finger through the silky strands. “A husband must be gentle, niece,” He hummed. Aemond remembered your innocent eyes then. You were nine, and he was only a couple of years your senior, but he was already clever enough to reach for what he wanted— you.
He was persistent– more persistent than he would care to admit. But he could not explain why, but he wanted you, even if you were a bastard. It did not matter much to him that you were a Strong, but when it came to your brothers, he was rather merciless. He tried to be subtle with his fondness for you, but subtlety becomes rather obvious when he truly abhorred your brothers.
“I do not understand,” Aemond remembered as you cried to him under the scarlet leaves of the Godswood tree, the silver light of the moon setting you aglow, making your tears iridescent like pearls streaming down your face. You were six and ten– your family had finally returned after your informal banishment to Dragonstone, a trial as to who shall be heir to Driftmark, the reason why you had found your way back to him.
“He had been bound to me since we were born– he was supposed to offer his fealty– his loyalty– but the moment we returned here, he desecrated it to lie with… with a common whore!” You wailed, and Aemond bit back his smile. Do not mistake his intentions. He did not revel in your sadness; he reveled in the fact that it was Jacaerys who had brought it.
“I had tried to warn you ever since we were children, niece.” He hummed as he took his place next to you, resting his back upon the greyish trunk of the ancient tree. “You should have been rid of him years before.” Aemond added as he let your shoulders brush with each sob you made. “I cannot be rid of him– he… he is my other half– my twin.” Aemond hummed as you tried to explain the obvious. He badly wanted to say that just because you two had shared a womb did not mean you were destined to share a fate.
“Yet he chooses to lie with a whore. He had you by his side, yet he still willingly chose another. Do not be a fool for him, ñuha ōños.” Aemond murmured as he retrieved his handkerchief to wipe away your tears. He could never explain why he was so kind and gentle towards you. Perhaps because you were the same to him. He remembered how his heart skipped a beat as he first saw you again. You found him in the tiltyard, a wide smile on your lips as he met your eyes. A confession that you had long missed his company on your lips.
“But I love him,” You confessed, uncaring that you were bold in your admittance. Ameond had always been your shoulder to cry on whenever you found trouble and strife with your twin. You did not know why you confided in your uncle, who had much animosity for your brothers, but there you were, crying in his arms. “But does he love you enough?” Aemond hummed as he relished the warmth he felt as he had you in his hold.
“He is half of me– if he does not love me most, then who else will?” You remembered whispering in dread. “How are you so certain that it is love?” Aemond questioned lowly, tucking a stray strand of your hair. “Perhaps you are under the wrong impression… just because he is your twin and he had been betrothed to you does not mean you ought to love him– it does not mean he loves you.” Aemond was a cruel man. He knew then that there was no line he would not cross to take what he wished.
Aemond wanted to sigh as you looked upon him with your gleaming brown eyes, your lips pink and swollen. “Such ungrateful men are not worthy of a princess… You wait for him– ready to offer your all, yet he…” Aemond pursed his lips in feigned thought, relishing how you clung to his arm and words. “...I cannot even bear to utter it, ñuha ōños. It could amount to treason,” He murmured lowly, his face drawing closer to yours as your eyelids flutter, and he could practically see how your mind started to give in to his words.
He claimed your lips that night. Your lips were so soft and sweet that Aemond felt drunk. He cupped your face, your cheeks wet with tears yet warm against his cold, calloused touch. You whimpered against his mouth, his thin lips punishing as he deepened your kiss– his tongue shameless as it brushed against yours.
Aemond grunted almost in pain as you suddenly backed away. His hazy eyes boring into your widened ones, regret etched plainly on your comely face. “I… this was a mistake,” Aemond raged every time he recalled your words and how you hastily ran from him after he had taken your first kiss and how he had given you his. He had never seen you since, and it took two years to pass before he could place his lilac eye upon you once more. And it was all because he was expected to attend your wedding ceremonies.
He was king. He could have taken all that he wished without apology– he could have taken you as his bride instead. However, his council had advised him that to do such a thing would invite another rebellion. You had been bound to Jacaerys since you were in the womb– even the kingdom believed that you two were meant for one another.
For him to break your betrothal and covet his nephew’s betrothed– his niece– could jeopardize his station. He had sacrificed much to be king, and as fond as he was of you and how he wished nothing more for you to be his queen, it was not enough for Aemond to relinquish the throne that he had killed for. For a moment, he tried to come to terms with the thought that it was only your lips he could claim, but he was quick to be rid of such thoughts as he remembered that he was king.
He was king, and he had a right to all in his realm– he had the right of the first night. Primae Noctis, he remembered the maester uttering to his nephew, the copper prince, unmoving as he was told that his king wished to lie with his wife. That Aemond wished to take her maidenhead, her virtue that she had guarded for her husband. “He cannot– she is my wife,” Jacaerys gritted as he pushed away a maester to meet his uncle’s eye.
“And I am king. I have the right, nephew.” Aemond smirked as his eye flickered towards you, surrounded by your guests who congratulated you on your marriage, completely clueless that you would be meeting him in your marital chambers instead of your husband.
Aemond sighed as he sensed his nephew readying to draw out his sword, and he quickly waved for his guards to restrain the groom before he could cause a scene. “It is only for one night, nephew. You have the rest of your life to mount your wife– do not be so easily threatened.” Aemond sighed, amusement evident in his eye that would often flicker to your frame across the room. “Besides, it is only fair, do you not think?” Aemond hummed as he poured himself more wine, his blood intoxicated with adrenaline at the thought of taking you that night– an action that he had fantasized many years before.
He glanced at the redened, confused expression of his nephew. “Your first time was wasted on some whore– surely you cannot think that you shall be the first to lie with her when she cannot say the same about you,” Aemond hummed. “She is my wife, mine!” Jacerys roared once more, and Aemond rolled his eye. “I am bedding her, not wedding.” He sighed as he was growing ever more impatient.
“But if you do not like the thought of your wife lying with her king, just say the word, and we can quickly annul your matrimony. You have every right to do so… you had not even lain with each other,” He continued to tease, hoping that his nephew would agree with his proposition. A rather idiotic idea when one thinks of it– but Aemond hoped that his nephew was indeed idiotic enough to agree.
He looked upon Jacaerys’s seething face, his jaw in a solid grit as his plain eyes glanced towards you, who were completely clueless about what was to come. “One night– as king, you only have one night with my wife.” Jacaerys gritted as he accepted defeat. He and his twin were lucky enough to escape war unscathed– and the reason for that was only because Aemond had ordered his faction to never lay a hand upon you lest they wish to be his dragon’s meal.
The then prince’s protection was only extended towards you, but your love for your twin had included him, claiming that if Jacaerys was harmed, gods forbid slain, you would soon follow him. He had been with you in life, so be it with death as well.
Aemond hummed triumphantly, a devious smirk on his thin lips. “It would seem I stand here corrected, you do have your wits about you, nephew– perhaps I shall think twice next time I doubt your sensibilities,” Aemond smiled, the scene unnerving for the prince as a true smile of happines over came their king’s face, and it was all because he would have you for the night.
“Now, if you would excuse me– I believe there is a bedding ceremony I must attend to,” Aemond said wickedly as he sauntered out of the great hall and made his way to your marital chambers.
It was near the hour of the ghost when you had noticed that you had not seen your husband in the past half-hour. You travelled your eyes upon the room, his absence noted, and you blushed at the thought that he perhaps had retired in your chambers, waiting for you. Waiting to seal your marriage with the sacred act between husband and wife.
You drew in a deep breath as you slipped out of the great hall yourself, your hands cold with anticipation. When you reached the doors of your marital chambers, you steadied yourself for what was to come. For years, Jacaerys had failed to keep secret his illicit affairs– he failed to resist the temptation of bedding whores.
For years, you blamed yourself– you believed he only did such actions because you refused him your bed without the certainty of marriage. But now, you were bound to him in the eyes of gods and men– perhaps his past behavior shall finally cease, you hoped. You were his wife– you had given him your heart and soul years before, and now, he shall as well claim your body. Surely a whore would no longer suffice for him after you had given him your all.
When you pushed open the door of your chambers, it was aglow with the fire of the hearth, and you felt your heartbeat in the tip of your ears as you cautiously walked in. Your eyes were on the bed as you entered, and the pristine white sheets lay untouched. You cast your eyes then upon the seating area, expecting your husband to be waiting for you, but all you saw was your king seated near the fire with a chalice in his hands.
“Aem– Your majesty… I–” You stuttered, confused. You hastily curtsied before him with your head bowed low, and when you straightened your stance, he was quick to rise and make his way before you. “What are you doing here, my king?” You asked, breathless, your gaze glancing towards the ajar door behind you, but Aemond was quick to reach forward and rest his palm against the solid wood, closing the door and trapping you between it and him.
“It is just us, nuha oños, no need for formalities,” he murmured lowly, his face incredibly close to you that you could smell the wine on his lips. “Where… where is my husband?” You asked, a slight tremble in your voice as his lilac eye bore into yours. Aemond only hummed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ears instead of answering your question.
He felt you back yourself further against the door, a sigh leaving his lips. “Who am I?” He instead questioned, watching as confusion overcame your eyes before weariness took over them once more. “A simple question, niece, who am I?” He asked once more.
“You’re… you’re Aemond.” You said innocently, and he drew in a deep breath as he loved hearing his name uttered by your lips. “Mm… to you, I am your Aemond… but to the others? Who am I to them?”
“King, you are their king,” You answered and held your breath as he leaned closer. “Indeed, I am.” Aemond smiled and backed away only an inch as he noticed how you held your breath. He’d rather not have you faint before he could claim you.
“And I must admit, as king, there are… privileges and pleasures that are bestowed upon me,” He clarified, but that did nothing to aid the questioning look etched into your face. “Have you perhaps heard the term primae noctis?” Aemond watched as you froze as he uttered the words, your enchanting eyes wide in realization. “The right of first night…” You whispered in shock, Aemond smirking as his fingers reached to twirl your hair that cascaded over your shoulder. “So knowledgeable… the maesters had to explain it to your husband thrice… you would have made the most capable queen,” Aemond could not help but murmur.
“Now, do I still need to explain my presence, princess?” He hummed as he boldly placed a soft kiss against your temple, hearing as you took in a sharp breath as his lips met your skin. “But… but I am married,” He heard you whimper, and he retreated back just to see the turmoil in your eyes. You were in doubt. Good, he thought. If you were in doubt, then it meant a part of you wished for it as much as he.
“I am quite aware,” He said bitterly. “But that is no hindrance,” He added, and bereft you of another moment to think before capturing your lips. His arm circled your waist while his hand rested between the curve of your neck and shoulder, steadying you and leaving no room for you to pull away. He felt your plush lips stagger, just as they did during your first kiss, but it was quick to dissolve as he felt you circled your arms around his neck.
Aemond smirked against your lips as he felt you pull him closer. My, if this was how you acted after your marriage, he would have happily walked you down the aisle if it meant you clinging to him. You gasped for breath when Ameond finally parted your lips. You whimpered once more as you felt his punishing lips against your neck, his hand trailing down and grasping your tit with such a gentle force that you could not help but moan.
“How… how are you so cavalier in taking my virtue that I had saved for my… my husband?” You asked breathlessly, your hand grasping the nape of Aemond’s neck as he peppered kisses on your skin. “Because you were meant to be mine,” Aemond said simply as he reached down to trail his hand against your leg, inching higher until he heard another gasp leave your lips as he cupped your womanhood.
“Besides, I do not like leaving things unfinished… I have your first kiss, it is only right I take your first time as well.” Aemond breathed against your lips before capturing them once more. A wanton sound coming from you echoed through the room as you felt his tongue invade you and as his fingers drew circles on your cunt against your small clothes.
You shivered as his lips trailed down to your bosom, his eye looking up as he forcefully yanked down the neckline of your wedding gown, the sound of it ripping music to his ears; he had half the mind to throw it into the fire later on. He did not wish to be reminded of the dress you wore as you bound yourself to another.
“You are all mine tonight, my light…” Aemond moaned as he captured the taut bud of your mound, the taste of salt and sweetness dancing on his tongue. “...perhaps even after,” He hummed and nipped the bud of your breast as a strangled noise left your lips, and you clung to him even further. You reached to cup his face, guiding him to meet your lips again. You’ve never kissed Jacaerys, not even during your ceremonies– each intimate touch and action you had done was with Aemond.
Your mind was in turmoil with each move of your lips, with each touch you exchanged. Jacaerys was supposed to be your other half– he was the one meant for you. Yet, here you were, melting into the hands of the king, your Aemond. You shuddered at the thought, and as you felt his finger enter your cunt. “Tell me you’re mine,” Aemond breathed out, voice holding a tone of desperation. You looked upon him with wide eyes. “Please, ñuha ōños… just for tonight, tell me you’re mine,” Aemond begged, uncaring that a king pleaded to a married woman as such.
You drew in a deep breath, wanting to deny him, but as you saw the sincerity in his eye, his eye that had always looked at you as if you were the only person in the world, you obliged. “I’m yours, Aemond… all yours,” You said softly, and you would think his pleading gaze would soften, but you felt a trickle of fear as his lilac eye darkened with sheer possessiveness that it made a chill run down your spine.
You felt dazed as he moved you from the door and tossed you into the bed, wasting no time to mount you and keep your body trapped against his. “He does not deserve you… you have always been meant for me,” Aemond growled as he ripped apart your dress, leaving you in your shift. You whimpered and reached for the buttons of his tunic, unable to bear the wetness that gathered between your legs.
Aemond shivered as you successfully removed his tunic, your soft hands roaming his chest, letting your skin finally touch his. He could have come undone at how your hands tightened on his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he ripped your shift away. Aemond marveled at your naked frame, biting back his smirk as you squirmed beneath him, your arms instinctively moving to cover yourself, but in one swift motion, he had both of your wrists in his grasp, hindering you.
“You are a goddess among men,” He said lowly, sincerity dripping in his voice and clear in his eyes. Aemond dipped down to capture your lips once more, letting your hands free to circle his frame. You closed your eyes tightly and dug your nails into his back as his fingers roamed your body, one of them grasping your tit and pinching the bud while the other rested steadily on the curve of your waist.
“Aemond,” You whimpered as you parted your lips, “I…” you trailed, unable to utter what you desperately needed. He looked deeply into your eyes, his lilac orb imploring you to use your words– to tell him what you wished for. “Come now, my light… we only have tonight, no need to be so coy,” He murmured and placed a chaste kiss between the valley of your breasts before meeting your eye once more.
“I… I want…” You say breathlessly, squirming in unbearable need beneath him. “Yes? What do you want? You shall have everything you want just as long as you say the word,” Aemond said lowly, determined for you to word out what you wished. “You! I… I want you!” You finally relented, and you held your breath as he looked at you with a blank expression– your cheeks heating in embarrassment, but it was quick to fade when a genuine smile overcame his lips. The same carefree smile he had when you two were children, long before his eye was taken from him.
You licked your lips as you felt your heart skip a beat with each moment he smiled upon you and how his lips inched closer. “Finally, you admitted it,” he said in satisfaction before kissing you until you saw stars.
You were dazed as you felt his lips against yours once more, your confession somehow making the kiss you two shared taste sweeter. You sighed as his kisses went downwards, from your neck, leaving his mark. To your mounds, placing a wet kiss on each. But as he reached further down your navel, you gasped and tried to push him away, but his strong arms pinned you down. “I thought you had wanted me, my light?” he then hummed as he looked up, his breath fanning your womanhood, and you squirmed further. “I… I do, but–”
“Then you shall have me… starting with my lips,” he smirked, and your eyes rolled back as you feel his lips meet your cunny. “A–Aemond,” You moaned as you fisted his hair, your breath shallow as his punishing lips were relentless with their kisses upon your womanhood. Aemond smirked against your cunt, intoxicated with the taste of you.
He felt your thighs circle his head, the plush flesh soft against his cheeks. “Oh gods,” You cried as you felt his tongue upon your entrance, “Aemond, please… I–” You said incoherently, a sheen of sweat overcoming your body as you writhed against his angular face. He held your thighs tightly, his grip intent to leave his mark. “What do you want, my light?” He hummed, voice muffled as he quickly returned his lips against your cunt, his tongue teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“I don’t know– just– please,” You cried, and Aemond focused all of his attention on the pearl of your cunt, his lips sucking upon it, his tongue darting out to lick it, and letting out a low reverberating moan that made you cry out in utter pleasure as you came undone.
You panted as your back arched, Aemond moving once more to meet your eye and witness the state you were in. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair clung to your glistening skin, and your eyes were still shut as you came down from your high.
Aemond took the moment to be rid of his breeches, and the moment he was, your eyes finally peeled open. You swallowed thickly as you saw his hardened length, the tip of it pink– almost red in anticipation. You drew in a breath as your gaze flickered to his eye, a teasing glint upon the lilac orbs. “Could… could I try something?” You suddenly asked, watching as Aemond’s brow raised in question as you sat up. He was kneeling upon the bed, and you copied his position.
“And what would that be?” he hummed as you inched closer to him. You could not word it out, a bit ashamed, and so you instead lowered yourself until you were faced with his manhood. Aemond watched in great anticipation as you looked up at him with hesitancy, your lips already parted.
“Hinder me if… if I do it incorrectly,” you whispered as you took him in your hands before closing your lips around the tip of his length. Aemond let out a deep groan, in disbelief of your actions. You were hesitant with each movement, and Aemond relished it, knowing that he would be the first to have you in such a way.
“Fuck,” He moaned as you took him deeper in your mouth, your teeth gently grazing his skin, and he felt as if he were in heaven. He did enjoy it when his pleasure had a touch of pain. As you heard him utter the words, you quickly retreated, fearing you had done something wrong. But he was quick to shake his head and reassure you that you were doing splendidly. You nodded and continued, blushing each time a grunt or moan left his lips.
When you had taken every inch of him, and you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, you held your breath as he pulled at the roots of your hair, curses leaving his lips before he abruptly pulled out his length. You stared at him through glassy eyes, a trickle of fear within you once again, but he quickly shook his head again and placed kisses upon your cheeks as he muttered on how perfect you were, on how you were a divine gift from the gods. You blushed at each of his compliments, unaccustomed to it, as your husband was never one to give such praises.
“Will it hurt?” You asked through wide eyes as you felt Aemond run the tip of his length along your glistening folds. “Yes, but only for a moment,” He hummed and placed a kiss upon your brow, the action so intimate that you could not help but believe for a moment, he was your husband and not simply your king who decided to invoke his right of the first night.
“Tell me the moment… the moment the pain becomes unbearable,” Aemond muttered through gritted teeth as he positioned himself to take you. He watched as you bit your lip, your hands grasping at his arms tightly. Aemond bit his own lip as he felt your plush walls around his length, your eyes pooling with tears as your whimpers reached his ears. “You’re doing so well, my light… so perfect you are,” Aemond moaned as his hips moved lightly against yours.
He relished how you clenched even further whenever a deserved compliment towards you left his lips, your body writhing slowly against his, your peaked mounds brushing against his chest. “Such a beauty you are, my princess,” Aemond continued to praise and bit back his smirk as you let out a moan, the pain of your maidenhead being taken finally subsiding. “More, Aemond…please,” You sighed as you reached forward to cup his cheek, your thumb delicately tracing his scar.
Your king hummed, obliging your request as he finally sheathed himself fully in your cunny, your back arching as he did. He felt your fingers inching closer to the leather strap of his eye patch. “Can I–” you cut yourself off, fearing you shall offend him, but Aemond gave you a curt nod as the tip of his length brushed against a spot in you that made you let out a cry of pleasure.
You removed the cover of his eye hesitantly, your breath catching in your throat as you saw a glistening sapphire in place of his stolen eye. “I did it for you,” Aemond breathed out, his thrust slow yet deep. You moaned as he reached between the two of you and drew circles upon your cunny, his words starting to grow incoherent.
“You’ve always loved wearing blue– a strong blue… a sapphire is the closest color that could compare.” Aemond sighed as you pulled him closer to you, your bodies flushed, and felt each movement and breath the two of you made.
“Faster, Aemond… please, I– I need more,” You cried, unable to fully understand his gesture. Aemond let out a breath of a laugh, placing a kiss on your neck before obliging once more, his head spinning as you wrapped your legs around him. You held your breath as you felt the blinding pleasure of your peak again, your eyes shut close as Aemond buried himself deep in your cunt, your walls clenching around him tightly as your nails dragged along his back.
“Did you see stars, my light?” Aemond gritted as he lay still atop you, blowing softly upon your face as your eyes were still closed, and Aemond feared that you were not breathing properly, or if at all. He bit his lip as he saw your eyes slowly peel open, the heaviness as you reached forward to kiss his lips. Aemond hummed in satisfaction– the same satisfaction he felt as the conqueror’s crown was placed upon his brow–perhaps even better.
You parted your lips to meet Aemond’s eye, startled to see the same lust still evident, and only did you notice that his length was still inside you, hard and pulsating. “What… did I not–” Aemond shushed you and placed a kiss on your lips. “You were perfect, ñuha ōños,” he reassured. “But why…” You trailed, feeling another surge of need overcome you as you felt the slight movement of his hips.
Aemond smiled wickedly. “I have you for only the night, princess… we are not leaving this bed until morning comes. Perhaps not even then.”
⸜̑⸝͂ ⋮ mdni, 18+ › book-canon!aemond 𝑥 little sister!reader ꪆৎ 𓏲 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒. hi, sweet bbs! ໒꒰ ⑅˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶꒱♡ i'm sry if u expected more from this drabble, but i'm currently on my period & i'm v horny.. ꒰∩∩ ྀིᥩ꒱ so this is literally just porn with v lil plot, lols. oki, happy reading, lil angels, & don't forget to lmk what y'all think! ⸜̑⸝͂ ⚔︎ ⊹ cw: pwp. incest. dubcon. manipulation. fingering. mean!obsessive!aemond. silver-haired!reader. possessiveness. aemond is lowkey v perverted in this. not edited.
you've always felt safest in the shadowy halls of the red keep, where torchlight flickers like caught breaths and the ancient stone seems to murmur warnings and lullabies in the same hushed tone. the walls bear the weight of centuries—of kings, queens, betrayals, and spilled blood—and you've grown up learning to read their silences as clearly as any chronicle. the salted wind from the blackwater bay slips through narrow windows and arrow slits, carrying the sharp tang of the sea and the distant, bone-deep rumble of dragons turning in their dens, as if reminding you with every gust of the legacy coiled in your veins.
as the youngest of the targtower brood, you drift after your siblings with the quiet inevitability of a shadow trailing the sun. aegon barrels ahead of you in bursts of reckless light—wild laughter echoing through the corridors, wine-stained mirth that bounces off stone as if daring the keep itself to scold him. helaena drifts beside him yet apart, murmuring her soft, cryptic visions to the embroidered sleeves of her gowns, fingers brushing along tapestries as though she senses truths woven between the threads. and then there is aemond—ever watchful, ever austere—his sharp, piercing eye finding you with the precision of a freshly sharpened blade's point, as if measuring every fear you hide and every truth you have yet to understand.
you move among them like the gentlest breeze after a storm, unnoticed at times yet woven into their orbit, a quiet pulse in the restless heart of a dynasty built on fire and blood. but it's aemond who watches you the most, his single violet eye tracking your every step since you were old enough to toddle after him on little feet. he's been your constant shadow, your shield, ever since that day long ago when he claimed vhagar on driftmark and returned with blistering fire in his veins, vengeance forming in his blackening heart, and his left eye swollen and bloodied, cut out due to the pug-faced bastard, lucerys velaryon.
you don't quite remember a time without his fierce protection, his unwavering devotion, the way he'd shove aside anyone who looked at you too long, his voice a low, furious hiss—she's mine to guard. nights like this, when the castle begins to quiet down and the moon spills thin, silvery beams through your chamber windows, you lie awake in your cool, silken sheets, heart fluttering like a caged bird.
the door creaks open without a sound; only you would notice, of course, attuned to him as the tide is to the moon. aemond slips inside, his tall frame cloaked in black, the faint click of his boots softened by the rushes. he's twenty now—all lean muscle, coiled intensity, long silver hair unbound like a warrior's mane.
you pretend to sleep, peeking through your silver lashes, savoring the quiet thrill of this game he enjoys playing with you, the one where he believes you innocent to his nightly visits. he approaches the bed with predatory grace, the air thickening with his scent—smoke from the dragon pits, leather from his riding gear, and something darker, uniquely him.
you feel the mattress dip as he sits on the edge, his large, calloused hand—scarred from reins and swordsmanship—reaches out to brush a delicate curl of your silvery-white tresses from your face. his touch is feather-light at first, tracing the gentle curve of your plump cheek, down to your elegant neck where your pulse flutters under his warm, rough fingertips.
"little sister," he coos, voice like a dark, velvety purr, laced with that teasing edge that always makes your cheeks burn with shame, your belly clenching with nerves, and your virgin cunt ache with uncontrollable desire. "always so sweet for me, so untouched, even in your dreams. tell me, sweet girl… do you dream of me yet?"
you stir then, as he intends, blinking up at him with your wide, naïve eyes—the soft-hearted girl he adores, who believes in the goodness of the world despite the poisonous vipers nesting in it. "lēkia? w-wha… what are you doing here? 'tis late..." your voice is a small whisper, breathy and uncertain, but there's no fear. no, you'd never fear your beloved brother.
he's always been your favorite sibling; after all, he's your loyal protector, the one who would chase off the young lordlings who pulled your braids and teased you mercilessly for your sensitive nature, and the one who always placed himself between you and father's cold disapproval. he chuckles, low and tender, leaning closer until his breath brushes your lips.
"can't your big brother check on his precious kin? or do you think i come for other reasons, hm? my naïve little dove, fluttering in her cage, all alone." his words sting just enough to make you squirm, but his eye burns with something deeper—obsession, raw and unyielding, the love that's always simmered in him since you came out from mother's womb, a babe he claimed in his heart long before he ever understood the meaning.
he's savored you growing up, your girlish body softening into soft, womanly curves under those modest gowns that mother always insisted upon you to wear, your laughter ringing like the sound of church bells in the gardens, always luring him to stand by your side, to stand guard and protect. no suitor would ever touch you; no, he's made quite certain of that with his devilish glares and whispered threats of his deadly wrath.
before you can protest, his mouth claims yours—not gentle, but starving, his tongue sweeping in to taste the addicting sweetness he often craves. you gasp against him, small hands pressing against his chest, feeling the hard planes of defined muscles beneath his tunic. he's possessive in his kisses, nipping your lower lip until it swells to his preference, drawing a small, meek whimper from you that he swallows down most greedily.
"so responsive," he teases, a low purr rumbling in his chest, pulling back just enough to watch your flushed face. "what would the court say if they knew their pure little princess melts for her brother's touch, hm? or are you far too dimwitted to see just how much you tempt me, hāedar?" he hums, raising a pale eyebrow.
the slight mockery curls his lips into a small, amused smirk, but his hand slides down your silky nightshift, cupping your plump breast through the delicate fabric, the pad of his thumb circling the hardening nipple until you arch into him, keening beautifully. you shake your head, sweet and stubborn as ever, soft curls tangling on the pillow, your mind a whirl of confusion and liquid heat pooling low in your belly.
"ae-aem… aemy, w-we shouldn't... mother would—" but your words dissolve into a soft, breathy moan as he pushes the shift up higher, exposing your heated skin to the cool night air. his large palm flattens against your stomach, tracing lower, fingers dipping between your plush thighs to find the slick, glossy folds of your cunt. he's touched you like this before, in the dead of night, teaching your body secrets your innocent heart doesn't yet fully grasp.
but he never takes that final step—no, he's never buried his cock inside you. at least, not yet; you already know your brother has always preferred savoring the chase, the way you bloom beneath his greedy hands like a precious bloom rooted in forbidden soil. "shh, sweetling," he soothes, though his tone drips with amusement at your naïvety. "i'd burn the fucking world to ashes before i would ever let another man have you, let alone touch you."
"no, you're mine, little sister, just as you've always been, ever since you left our mother's womb, crying and wailing into the night." his long, spidery fingers part your slippery folds, stroking the sensitive pearl of your needy clit with deliberate slowness, making your hips buck up involuntarily against his hand. you're wet for him already—embarrassingly so—your body betraying how much you've come to need these hushed, stolen moments with him, even if your soft, pious heart often whispers about how sinful your meetings with your older brother truly are.
he watches you intently, that sapphire gemstone glinting like an ominous warning in the moonlight, his obsession a living flame. he's loved you eternally, from the cradle, where he'd sneak in to just to watch over you while you slept soundly, to now, when he fights the violent urge to claim you fully, to pin you down and fuck you raw until you scream his name as his wife, his queen, unable to stop imagining your tiny cunt gaping, your belly full of his seed, your maidenhead torn apart, bloodied and spent, and bred like a common whore from the streets of silk.
you clutch at his broad shoulders, manicured nails digging into the fabric of his tunic, a soft gasp escaping from your pouty lips as he slips one long, nimble finger inside you, then two, curling them to stroke that sweet spot punishingly, making euphoric stars burst behind your fluttering eyelids. "ae-aemy... please, i-i can't—" you whine, babbling pure nonsense, your voice high-pitched and needy, not even sure what you're pleading for.
the stretch of his skilled fingers inside your virgin cunt burns sweetly with pain mixed with pleasure, your silken walls clenching around him as he pumps his fingers in and out, nice and slow and deep, the pad of his thumb still teasing your clit with quick, mean strokes. he leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to leave an obvious mark—his mark, hidden beneath your gown for the morrow.
"look at you; it's almost pathetic how eager you are for your brother's fingers… if not a tad endearing," he laughs, mocking, his voice gruff with restraint. his cock strains against his leathers, thick and hard and aching with the desperate need to stuff you full to the brim, but he ignores it, for now, focused entirely on your pleasure, on drawing out those sweet, breathy little cries that are music to his possessive soul.
"what a dumb, silly little girl you are, sister. thinking you could ever escape me," he chuckles, his voice dry and vicious. "i've thought about it, of course. i'd chain you to my side, keep you with me forever, and ride vhagar with you bound to me as we fly across the narrow sea, if i must." the words are half-jest, half-promise, a subtle threat, his free hand tangling in your soft, slightly matted curls to tilt your head back, exposing the slender column of your lovely throat for his teeth to graze, a clear warning of danger to come.
"i'd never leave you dry or wanting; i'd always keep you full of me, stuffed full of my seed—always safe, always loved, always mine," he continues with a cruel laugh, voice low and viciously gentle. "hmm... you know what else i think, sweet sister? i think you'd actually like that, wouldn't you?" he hums. "mmh, yes, i think you'd beg me to fill your belly with my sons," he taunts, smirking mischievously as his sapphire eye gleams with nefarious intent. "...and plenty of daughters, too. girls who're just as pretty as their mother."
the pressure builds, coiling tight in your belly as he quickens his pace, fingers thrusting deeper, slick sounds filling the chamber. you're naïve to the ways of men, but your body knows him, responds to his every touch like it was made for him. "come for me, little one," he commands, his eye locked on yours, intense and unblinking. "show me how much you love your lēkia." the orgasm that rips through your body crashes over you then, waves of endless ecstasy pulsing throughout your shaking limbs, your cunt spasming around his fingers as you cry out, muffled against his shoulder.
fat tears prick your eyes from the intensity, your soft heart overwhelmed by the forbidden bliss. he holds you through it, murmuring endearments laced with that teasing bite—my perfect, foolish girl—until your tremors start to fade. gently, he withdraws his hand from between your thighs, bringing his glistening fingers up to your lips. "taste yourself," he orders, and you do, shyly, your little pink tongue darting out as he watches with dark satisfaction.
then he kisses you again, softer this time, tasting the evidence of your sweet submission. and as dawn threatens the horizon, he rises, adjusting your shift with surprising tenderness. "sleep now, ñuha jorrāeliarzy," he coos, brushing a kiss to your forehead. "dream of me, as i dream of you—eternally." he slips from your chambers like a ghost, leaving you curled in the sheets, body humming with aftershocks, heart full of his obsessive love. of course, you know he'll return tomorrow night, and the next, chasing you in this endless dance he's destined to perform with you, his darling little sister. he's yours just as much as you're his, bound by blood and something fiercer, and in the quiet, you smile, safe in the knowledge that he'll never let you go.
