Andy going into rut though. Reader is just trying to get him to calm down after being so aggressive to the other staff and he just corners you into the stall, chuffing and snarling, demanding that you remove everything you have on you, because none of it smells like him and he hates that anything else has it's scent on you.
You're bent over the hay, breathless, leaking, begging to be given a break and the hybrid simply yanks your hair and tells you "You can take it. You're a big farmer, aren't you?" and just makes you take every inch he has to give again and again and again.
You think that afterwards maybe he'd get it out of his system, but no, you're curled around and brought to his stall, where he rubs his face against you and growls when you try to pull away, scenting you aggressively while debating on filling you up one more time, you know, "for good luck"
s1/s2 where sam gets taken by a bunch of vampires to feed from him because his blood is just “so unique and delicious ”. no one knows it’s demon blood. sam doesnt find out until he’s nearly dead and one vampire recognizes the taste but is so confused because sam isn’t a demon so why would his blood taste to demonic? better investigate
CONCEPT: You are Willa WyldeWoods, daughter of the second biggest house in the North. Your father has guests begging him for his support. Aegon and Aemond are here to find allies, with Aemond taking a interest in you because the books didn't mention you at all.
WARNINGS: Beheadings, dark, dub-con, forced marriage, spoils of war, non-con, dark! Aemond, also kinda hatred to Valyrian people which can be considered, in a way, as discrimination.
You have always been a daughter of the North. You were born during the deadliest winter and during the heaviest snowstorm, the North had ever seen.
You came into this world like you were already gone. You had a faint heartbeat and kept your eyes closed. You didn't cry. You were silent like the grave.
Your mother and father's masters tried everything. They ran out of options very fast. Until you suddenly cried out, and your heart started to beat louder. It hasn't stopped beating ever since.
But no one knows what or who saved you. Until now.
You are enjoying a cup of warm tea. Your maids just arranged your wardrobe for the new season, selected the old dresses that you became too tall for and threw them out. There is a big pile of silk, linen and other dresses piling up by your door.
Your mother never would even come into your rooms. 'Mother? Is everything alright?'
'Put on your newest dress. The one with the pretty flowers. We have guests coming soon, and you need to be dressed appropriately.' She eyes your maids before heading off.
Your handmaid goes to work and dresses you in a light green silk dress with pretty flowers. You don't have much jewellery but you do take out your pretty necklace with a golden locket and your favourite pair of earrings.
Downstairs is a mess.
Servants run across the halls and try their best to fix everything up before the visitors come. Tables are decked, plates and silver are polished and dinner is being served for starved guests. It looks like it will be a King's meal.
Your father smiles at you.
'My dearest and only daughter. Willa.' He says and takes your hands into his own. He smiles at you and you hug him.
Your oldest brother Brand returns from scouting. 'They'll be here soon.' He announces. He laughs when he sees you. It's a pleasant laugh. 'My dearest sister has become a woman.' He says surprised and you hit him on his arm playfully.
You hold your breath as the doors open. You expect House Stark. You are met with someone else. A Man, with tired eyes and a green with a black coat. He nods his head to you. 'House WyldeWoods. May I present; His royal majesty: King Aegon II? And his brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen?' Your father smiles when the two follow them.
One is dressed in green. One is dressed in black. One is dressed for parties. One is dressed for combat.
The green-dressed man keeps a crown on his head. You understand he must be the king. His eyes are tired. Sick maybe even. His silver hair makes his skin even paler. He scans the crowd, eying your lady maids like they are some delicious snack he can't wait to taste.
Your father stands up and slowly but carefully makes his way to the prince. 'You are far from home.' He says, his voice deadly and sharp. He sounds displeased.
The Prince keeps quiet when his king speaks. 'We are. We heard there is trouble brewing in the North. We came to see for ourselves.' You aren't sure what to make of it only that you find it incredibly stupid. This could very well be a trap and they'd be dead.
Your father laughs a bit like he is educating two little boys. 'There is not just trouble brewing in the North. There is trouble everywhere now.' He looks at Aegon with blame and hatred.
The older man interrupts and takes over the negotiations.
'We came here to ask the support of House WyldeWoods. Can we count on you? You are the second biggest house in the North. We can use an Ally against the Starks.'
Against the Starks? Your family always fought beside them. Not against them.
Your father smiles, looking at the king. 'I'm sorry, my Prince. But you know I can't. I swore an oath to serve your sister.'
'She is a whore.' The king simply says like that explains his motives and why he would be a better ruler.
The snake smiles. 'Surely we can convince you somehow?' He asks sweetly. When he and your father monologue you feel the prince eye you. A lot. You feel his gaze go over your dress. You never had that kind of attention before.
Your father notices very easily and looks irritated. The prince doesn't seem to notice that he has been caught.
Your father groans. 'Is the view to your liking?' He spits out. You feel a bit embarrassed that your father berates the prince like this. He is dangerous. So is the king.
The prince nods. 'She is interesting. I didn't find any traces of her when studying your family, Lord WyldeWoods. She wasn't even mentioned. We never got an invitation to her name day Ball either.' You know why exactly.
A name day Ball is the perfect opportunity for a proposal. And your father wants to keep your lineage and his lineage pure. No Valyrian blood will mess with it. It's why he didn't send the invitation.
But if the Hightowers and the Targaryens gave a damn about the North, which they don't: they would have noticed much sooner and not years later.
Your father lies very smoothly. 'My little Willa is not fond of big parties. She wanted a small gathering with her family.' It makes you sound like some sort of lonely castle-kept girl. Like you don't have any friends.
The prince nods. 'Of course.'
The snake laughs and it doesn't reach his eyes. It is a calculated creepy laugh.'Your daughter is of marriage age?' Your mother gently and subtly grabs your hand and squeezes it nearly breaking your bones. You know just like her what's next.
A proposal.
Your father is aware too. 'She is. What about that?' He asks, suspicious and his eyes narrow.
The hand nearly jumps up and down. 'Excellent. We can become allies. Aemond here is unwed. So is Willa. He will take her as his wife and in return, you will support us with banners and men.' He makes it sound so simple. Except it isn't. You are sworn to Rhaenyra due to your father's oath.
Your father seems to have trouble understanding the new match. 'Willa? My Willa? With a Targaryen? A Valyrian?' He stutters out. You don't like that idea either. 'Piss off! Get out of here. You are not even fucking my goat and certainly not my only precious daughter!' He even grabs his sword to make his point.
The Prince takes out his sword as well and levels it at your father. You quickly intervene. 'Father, put the sword away. It was just a suggestion. Please? Let us remain civil.' You beg.
Your father obeys. 'You won't marry any WyldeWoods. You will go home without her. You sure won't touch her. If your funny Targaryen Incest-loving cock comes near my daughter, I'll chop it off.'
Aemond is enraged by that but keeps civil. 'We will remain here for tonight's feast. We may not be allies but we don't need to become enemies now, do we?'
Your mother nods.
'Help yourselves. There is plenty of food for all of us.'
The next morning you are awakend by the sunlight. Very unusual. When you leave your chambers still wearing your robe you find a deliciously big Banana cake waiting for you. You gasp and jump up and down in delight. Banana cake.
You are delighted.
Banana cake with chocolate dripping. Just like when you were a little girl. You smell the heavenly smell.
You decide it won't hurt to try a piece. 'I heard it is your favourite.' A voice suddenly rings out behind you. You tremble and slowly turn around still licking off your fingers dipped in chocolate.
The prince. How did he get in here? Where is your guard? It feels very wrong. Especially since your hair is a mess and you still are in your nightgown.
'It is. How did you get it here so fast?' You ask and can't help but a little impressed. The cake tastes so good as well. Whoever did it is an amazing Baker.
Part of you is insulted. Did he really think you would marry him because of a cake? Another part of you finds it so sad. He is used to buying his friends.
You also know what will happen if you accept it. He will feel entitled to you and will maybe even force you. 'It's a lovely gift. But I don't think father will appreciate it.' You say gently picking the words. You don't want to insult him. You are alone with him and he carries multiple weapons.
The prince sighs but gives you a small smile. 'It's not for him. It's for you. I know you like banana chocolate cakes.' This is not about the damn cakes anymore. You want to run away and don't feel comfortable that no one is with you either.
Your father will never agree to this match. 'You don't eye me as a bad man. But daddy doesn't like...' You swallow a bit. 'Uhm none northern men?'
There is a small mocking smirk on his lips. 'You can say Valyrians it's fine.' It doesn't feel fine. It feels unfair.
'Fine. He doesn't like Valyrians. He despises Targaryens especially. I wish I could show him that not all Valyrians are rapers and thieves who burn down our cities but-'
'Well with your ancestor being celebrated everywhere it is kind of hard to forget.' You finish your sentence dryly.
'I should go see my Septa. She is probably worrying about where I am.' You get up.
He mirrors you also getting up. 'She is fine. I assure you. Sit down and drink with me.' He points to a bottle of wine just waiting to be served.You flush. 'I don't want to bother you...' You don't care about bothering him. You don't feel comfortable drinking with him.
Your feet take off and you rush to the door leading to the hall.
The door is locked.
You hear a soft chuckle in your ear. 'I didn't say you could leave just yet. But if you want to; I will not stop you. I think you will regret leaving this room. I think you will wish you never did it. But if you must: I put the key on the table. It's your choice.'
There is a faint smell of iron in the air. You follow it curious. Until you come out by the kitchen. A guard in familiar targaryen uniform is busy arranging orders. 'Please. Let us check in on her lady..' A familiar voice begs the guard. You see it's the Bertha. Who always cared for you when your mother couldn't.
'Prince Aemond is handling her. She is spoiled. No need to worry about her. Now get back to work. These skulls won't impale themselves.' The guard casually presents her with a freshly beheaded head and a big kitchen knife. You back away and bump into the prince.
He grabs you gently and takes you with him to the kitchen. Making sure you see everything. There are some girls half undressed sitting on the ground clutching at each other. One girl is held down when two guards take turns. 'Let them stop,' you Growl at Aemond.
He sees it differently than you. He is fine with it. Or pretends to be. 'It's punishment and part of sacking a castle. It's unpleasant, but they can cut her tongue out if her moans irritate you.' He suggests but he already knows you won't be that cruel.
You go the two men.
'I am lady Willa of House WyldeWoods and that is my servant girl. Get off of her-'
One of them grins at you.
'What if I won't, little lady? Will you beg your prince to make him stop me? Maybe you'll end up getting your cunt fucked as punishment too.' He looks over at Aemond with a grin. 'Is she fucked yet? I would know if I were you. There is some space over in the hallways. Take that little lady bitch and make her scream.'
You hear Aemond's chuckle.
Something snaps. 'Get off of her. Last time I ask.' You say very calmly and collected. He gets off the girl and before he has even processed what happened you have kicked him so hard between his legs that you are sure he won't touch a woman in weeks.
You find a knife, on the table near you. So you use it.
You drive it through his throat, repeatedly stabbing him. It sticks out a bit before you pull it through entirely, making the man bleed out on the spot.
The other soldier turns on you enraged. You try to get the knife back but it's too late for that. You can only back away. He is suddenly knocked on his head with a rolling pin before he collapses to the ground. You rip the knife lose and quickly stab him in the heart. There is a thin line of blood coming out. Bertha looks at you, rolling pin still in hand. You rush over to her and have the awful feeling you forgot something.
Until you hear a soft cry and look at the girl that was hurt by the two guards. Aemond is with her now, a dagger against her throat. His only good eye is fixated on you, there is anger and aggression in it. You carefully lower your knife and shake your head.
He grins at that like an animal.
'I don't like you hurting my good soldiers.' Aemond says his voice distant and enraged. You don't have time to beg before they drag her away from you.
Warnings: Not so feministic Aemond, abuse on the half blinded (Aemond) smut and kinks definitely some praise kink mc, they all need therapy, spankings and implied martial abuse. Non con kissing and willingly for other things. Incest as Aemond is sorttaa related to baratheon (is he? *music stops*) and incest and also dirty daydreaming and fantasying .
Taglist: @iiamthehybrid @winxschester
Concept: Aemond comes wife hopping at Storm's end and you and your sisters are first getting tasted before he makes his choice. Very sub mc and dom aemond but also aemond with her sister's and mc watching.
Robert: I hate all Targaryens
Aemond:
Robert; he's cool tho
There is a brief moment before panic erupts under all of you. Your mother comes over as well, horror written across her face. 'Prince Aemond, I must insist that you behave yourself under our roof. These are my daughters, and your future wife is among them. You will not taste them, and you will most certainly not question their innocence.' Your mother wants to do even more like smack his head against a wall and yell at the prince, but your father calls her back, horrified and embarrassed.
You realize your mother is about to be punished. He has not done that in years. The last time was during a supper. He grabbed and dragged her away to their bedchamber. You heard about what husbands do with their wives when they are disobedient. 'Elenda, get here.' He does not even yell. Your mother freezes up at his strict voice.
Aemond's lips smack, in amusement and cruel sadism. He is like a little boy who gets told by his father that he is right to bully his siblings. 'Seems like you got yourself into some trouble, my lady.' He mocks her openly. 'Do not worry about your girls. They are in good hands. ' He says with a cold smirk. Your father drags your mother away.
The prince walks over to the throne not long before sitting down on it. One of the guards, you know him as Edan Stone, is brave enough to confront him. ‘My prince, that seat is not yours.’
The only sound the Targaryen prince makes is a soft chuckle. ‘You must not be aware of how politics work. Well, what do I expect from a mere soldier? You never had a proper education. You would not dare even question my motives if you did.’’ His voice is much sharper and becomes louder with every passing word. Ellyn reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly when softly muttering that she would like to go to her rooms again. You agree. Everything is better than enduring this. 'now leave us all.' The guards leave the room.
The prince cocks his head at her, noticing her tears and her trembling hands. He has the smile of a wolf who sees a deliciously easy lamb to rip apart. ‘You, get here.’ He is not just calling her over, he is commanding her. Maris shakes her head at Ellyn but Ellyn does not have her courage. She slowly makes her way to Aemond.
You can see the jealousy in Floris’s eyes grow, just as her smirk as she thinks of a clever little plot. You and Maris share a glance and seem to think the same. ‘Princess Rhaenyra was allowed to sit in that chair, when she had her suitors come over. I am sure that father would not mind sharing his seat with his future son in law.’ Floris speaks, quickly interrupting Aemond and trying to steal away the attention from her sister. Aemond sinks back in the chair, resting his arms on the armrests. He forces his head against the back of the chair and gestures for Ellyn to come closer.
She hesitates. He chuckles before getting up. ‘I do not think I have ever been denied before by any woman.’ He ignores Floris and by his smirk you can tell its on purpose. He grabs Ellyn by her waist, ignoring her protests and whimpers when he is a bit too rough. He forces her head closer to his own and kisses her on her lips. She tries to break free desperately as if she is a bird in the mouth of a cat. You watch, frozen when your sisters are fed up with Aemond. Ellyn catches her breath and he uses that opportunity to force his tongue in her mouth. He grabs her chin and holds her during the kiss, so she has no chance of escaping.
Once he is finished, he drops her as if she is nothing, moving on to his next target. It is quite amusing watching him count you and your sister and realizing that one is missing. It is even more amusing when he realizes someone has snuck behind him, and you are laughing when Maris smacks him across his arrogant face, leaving a good red mark.
Ellyn uses this to escape and rushes to your side across the room, before crying out in your arms. She probably imagined her first kiss differently.
Cass takes the pitcher from the servant and fills her cup before raising it to Maris. Floris looks horrified and tries to earn his love by rushing to his side and offering her help and support. You are the only one staying far away. ‘Get off of me, wench.’ He groans at Floris as she touches his face. She obeys him, shocked that she is for once not the thing everyone wants.
‘You,’ he sounds even more hateful than before. Maris makes a curtsy and lowers her eyes but they are twinkling with mischief. You release a laugh. The prince’s head briefly snaps towards you before glaring at you. You stop laughing. Cass stops drinking and watches the exchange between the two of them, worried.
Maris and your sisters enjoy this victory and his shame and humiliation of being beaten by a girl for a brief moment. Then, you all regret it. He grabs Maris by her throat, squeezing it so harshly you can see his fingerprints on it. He grins, laughing as if he has gone insane. ‘Apparently you are a bit jealous. Do not worry, you are next.’ He groans in her face, dragging her to the throne.
‘You are an insolent stupid, ignorant, dumb little-’ He scolds when sitting down and taking her on his lap. You never saw anything like that before and have trouble looking away. You watch as his hands go over her neck, to her back, and to her behind...
Ellyn clutches to Cass’s side. ‘What will he do with her? We need to get father. He will stop this madness.’ You doubt it.
You hear Maris cry out and realise that Aemond has hit her. 'You can't hit a lady!' Your sister Cass roars angry. 'You are a despicable little beast.'
The prince scoffs unbothered and even smiles when Maris whimpers terrified of him. 'But I can spank her. This is nothing unusual for a wife and her husband.' You know what that word means from a few books Cassandra reads sometimes and watch as your sister lies over his legs getting punished by the prince. She keeps quiet mostly and he hates it. He does everything in his power to make her scream, cry or to even beg him.
The way he hits her looks so painful. You can almost feel his hands on your flesh hitting you. You see her ashamed cheeks turn red and watch as she tries to fight but eventually accepts her punishment. Aemond has not stripped her, as he is not her lord husband yet. He has no right, yet.
When Maris is properly tamed and done for She is lifted. He grabs her by her throat as a warning and feels her breasts with his hands. You watch fascinated and worried as he smashes his lips on her own kissing her. Maris moans and feels his knees where she was laying moments earlier. You feel a strange thirst. You feel yourself become breathless.
The prince sends her away.
'Anyone else who needs to be taught a lesson?' He eyes you and your sisters, eager to punish whoever might defy.
You bite your lip and raise your chin; making direct eye contact with the prince. He grins and raises a brow at you before patting his knee, inviting you over. You quickly blush and back away, hiding from him. He chuckles.
You quickly glance back at your feet. That was poor timing on your behalf. You scold yourself in your head. Your other sister, meanwhile, sits the throne. Floris slowly takes off her dress, revealing her breasts. Aemond seems interested and comes over. He grabs her and forces her to stand. She kisses him desperate like lovers do.
Floris subtly drops her gown a bit, showing more of her breasts. Aemond grins before touching her nippels and biting her neck as if he is an animal. You watch as the two of them kiss each other passionately. Aemond slams her against the throne and spreads her legs...
Your mouth turns dry as his hands vanish under her skirts touching her. She lets out cries of pleasure. You wonder how he is touching her. How is making her feel that good. If he can make you, feel that good.
Someone squeezes you, and you are startled. Cass glares at you. 'Bentha,' She whispers furiously. 'You are watching.'
Your voice cracks and you are in need of a drink.
'I never saw any man-' you try to defend yourself.
Cass sighs. 'I will get you a man, but not him. He will destroy you.' You hear a voice whisper that no man will do that with you what he does.
Floris cries out, and you watch her closely studying her. 'What is happening to her?' Ellyn asks, worried for Floris's safety.
'She has just finished.' Maris responds drly. Ellyn blinks.
Ellyn blushes, hoping she midunderstands it all. 'With what exactly?' You all groan.
The prince sighs and grins as Floris puts her dress back on. He walks back to you all. You watch as he dryly wipes off his fingers on a towel. 'You girls are tameable, it seems.' He makes you all sound like disobedient women.
He counts you all again shoving some of you aside. 'I already kissed you, you and now you...'
You and Cass remain.
'Leaving you two.' He says joyfully. Cassandra sighs before accepting that she is next. She grabs his face gently and kisses his lips before he can even understand what is happening. She also uses her tongue like he did on Ellyn. She grins when he is absolutely shocked and wordless by her bold display.
'That was everyone.' She joyfully says. 'You did it.' She is saving you from him.
Aemond seems that confused that he does not realise that mistake.
'No; Bentha remains.' Floris suddenly rings out joining you.
You feel yourself shake. You gulp.
The prince grabs you by your hips dragging you closer to him. You feel his hot breath on your lips and feel yourself fall. 'You're mine, little stag.'
You gulp. 'Let her be, Aemond. She is the youngest. She has no interest in you.' Maris tries to intervene. It's useless.
Floris growls. 'It's a kiss.' Aemond brings you back to the throne.
You are pushed on his lap, forced to sit. You feel his warmth and sweat unintended. You never were so close to any man.
'I am not sure that is entirely true.' He says once you are sitting. You feel him touch your legs gently. You think of him parting them and feeling you like he did with Floris. What is wrong with you? He hurt your servants.
'Shall we kiss?'
'I want to have a chat with you first.' He saw you. He saw you watch. You blush. 'Yes, I saw you peek when I finished your little sister off. When she came on my lap. I also saw you gawk when I spanked your sister and forced my tongue in your other sister's throat.' He describes it.
'I was worried for their safety-' he laughs.
'I gave all your siblings a little lesson. Ellyn learned how to kiss, Maris learned the value of spankings, Floris learned how to come, and Cassandra learned how to seduce. What do you hope I teach you, little stag?' You are surprised that he even knows your names and who is who. Some servants take years.
He kisses your neck, and you gasp.
'They didn't like their lessons.' You say nervously.
'You are different. I bet you'd be the most wonderful student. So obedient to please your teacher.' Your body reacts so unpleasantly. You are wet.
'I need-' you need to get away from him. Now.
He grins. 'No, little stag. I am not quite finished.'
'Please-' you beg getting up.
'No, I said.' He says strictly and gives you a light smack on your behind. It is not enough force but it turns you on so quickly. You moan even. You blush mortified and ashamed. You definitely liked that. Wether you knew it prior or not. You whimper. You hear him chuckle. 'I will teach you.'
'I will teach you what it means to be a woman.' You watch in horror as he shoves a small silver ring around your finger before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder. 'Tell Lord Borros I claimed his youngest.' He tells the other girls before carrying you off. 'O, and don't come knocking any time soon.'
Dark! Aemond x reader (Yes she has no name, once more)
Based on the courtyard scene.
(I FIXED TYPOS)
Concept: Assasin/spy/grey reader x prince regent Aemond.
You have a simple life in kings landing. At day, you work in a tavern. At night, you rule the underground scene of kings landing. Illegal drops, hiding bodies/disposing of them, its all in your task description. You are simply refered to as The Queen of the City or the Queen of the underworld. No one has seen your face. That is the only reason you are alive right now. One day, they arrest your father. A peaceful septon. Or so it appeard. He was brought to the keep and thats where you will help him escape from. Or so you thought.
WARNINGS: spoilers and dark stuff i like my writings as i like the night. dark, and full of terrors.
gif's not mine, not now, not ever. (for i am older than vhagar idk how to internet)
Darwen opens the door once you have knocked. He hasn’t changed since the last time you saw him. When he took the fall for your crimes. When they dragged him through the streets of King’s Landing and took off his left hand. You stare at the stomp that was once his fighting hand. His writing hand. He dreamed of being an author. A dream that you crushed. Just as you crushed his heart that once beat for you. You move your three fingers in your right hand, excluding your little finger and thumb as a greeting.
Darwens’s mouth corners begin to hang, in a disapproving manner when you greet him with your former secret signal. You drop your hands and compose your face, but inside your eyes roll so hard they would be on the ground by now. You force yourself to smile and lightly touch your face in a charming flattering attempt to charm him. ‘’Ah, good. You are here.’’
You try to walk past him, into his home. He quickly paces forwarth and blocks the entrance, glaring at you when his left arm hangs uselessly by his side. It has been a while for sure.
You hoped you would be better at lying now. At tricking now. But he reads you once as he read you dozens of times before. ‘’Do you need something, Y/N?’’
Why do people always assume you need something from them? Perhaps if you yearned for true social contact as most folk, you would visit them outside of work hours. Yet you do not yearn for social idle meaningless conversation. Darwen knows every trick in your book for he wrote it himself. He made you who you are. You are better off asking him yourself. ‘’As a matter of fact, that I do. I need to speak to your sister.’’ You haven’t seen her in years either. Not since they took Darwens hand.
Darwen tenses up, the protective brother that he is. You scoff slightly at his attempt of making himself bigger than you, for you are much taller than he is. ‘’My sister? Why?’’
You sigh, growing impatient. ‘’Just let me in, Darwen. The street has whores but it also has ears.’’ You would know, better than anyone.
You are let in, and they allow you to take a seat on their sofa. Freyda, his sister, was busy cutting potatoes but drops her knife when she sees your horrendous desperate face. ‘’Out! Out with you! We do not wish to be associated with you!’’ Well, she is honest at least.
You plop down on the worn-out sofa, put your boots on the table and shoot her a glare. ‘’Too late.’’ You grumble.
She is not done yelling yet. ‘’You already took my brother’s hand! Isn’t this enough, villain?! When will you be satisfied?!’’ You, a villian? You scoff. Perhaps. Perhaps not. You did not take his hand. You just made sure it wasn’t you on that chopping block. You lied, tricked, manipulated, abused, fought, stole but it was the City watch swords. Not yours.
You get to your feet after sitting down for one brief moment. ‘’’I need to borrow your uniform.’’ She knows just what uniform you are referring to. The one she wears when she works in the pretty Red Keep of King’s landing. Attending dogs, kings, whatever she is paid for. You have your own woman at the castle who would normally…provide these kinds of things for you, but she hasn’t answered you in a week now. She is either found out or she has betrayed you.
Which means she is dead…Or soon will be.
Her eyes become as huge as two oranges. ‘’Borrow? We only have one uniform, Y/N.’’ That complicates things. Of course those green greeds would only allow the people of the castle to wear one uniform. ‘’It is a new security measure. Ever since they killed the little prince-’’
You vaguely recall a golden casket sized for a toddler being paraded around King’s Landing’s Street. You and Vazzo joked about digging it up later, to sell it somewhere. But the dirty conquers that are Targaryens are all tossed in the sept to perish. The little brat was not any different, so you fear. ‘’I don’t care. I need your uniform.’’ You do. You need to sneak in that palace and if they see your face, chances are that they recognize you from earlier today.
Or worse…That they recognize you from much, much, much earlier. ‘’You want to leave Vazzo in charge of your empire?’’ Freyda is asking the real questions and you groan by the thought of leaving your empire, your criminal web of trustworthy spiders and liars into the hands of a man. Your web was designed to help former enslaved young women track their masters. To track them, and to end them. It has become more than that, bigger than that and worse than that. To put Vazzo, a man on top of that ladder kills you. Especially since you built that ladder yourself.
‘’I want nothing. I have no choice. Vazzo is my second-in command.’’ You trust him. Kind of. He is ambitious. He is cruel and calculated. But someone has to be there to feed and to lead the spiders from the dark, should you not return. Vazzo will carry on the revolution you are planning for King’s Landing.
Your answer insults Darwen. Once, he wanted nothing more but to be your king. To sit next to you and to hold your hand. They might hate you, you allow them. You hate yourself as well. But do they hate your father, the man that raised them as their own? You hope not. Or not nearly as much as they hate you. You tell them shortly what happened in the morning. ‘‘’The guards came today. Funny looking ones. Not the regular city watch. These were Kings guards. They took my father.’’ You would recognize the pretentious sanctimonious cloaks, in a pure white color. The color of good. You would never forget how those cloaks dragged your mother through the streets before they chopped her head off, feeding it to the dogs.
Darwen and Freyda share a look, their faces grim and full of sorrowness. They are not like you. They have a conscience. They have these little voices in their heads, no hearts telling them they can’t live with themselves like this. Voices that went dead silent inside of you a long time ago. You are hopeful for the guilt to eat them alive, to make them as desperate as you truly are. ‘’So that means he is in the castle’s dungeons.’’ You feared that that would be the case, though you obviously considered it.
Your eyes never leave the proper red uniform that Freyda puts on the table. Your new disguise. ‘’I made the same conclusion. Which is why I need your uniform. Unless you’d like to risk your pretty head?’ ’Because you don’t trust Fryda to pick any lock, not even if she had the keys.You’ll likely need to pick at least 2 locks. One for the cell, one maybe for the entrance to the dungeon and who knows, maybe one or two more. You would take Estra with you, if she wasn’t on a mission in the Riverlands by now. Why must you always do things yourself?
There is one short answer to that: If one wants to make sure something is done properly…
One has to do it themselves. ‘’If he’s in the castle dungeons, he is a dead man.’’ You refuse to believe that. Estra was stuck there for two weeks before a handyman of yours got her out safely and well. King Aegon is a lazy drunk fool who would rather party than execute prisoners.
You feel your lips fold into a smirk as you proudly recall how you saved people from the red keep before.‘’I had men and women stuck there for months. They aren’t eager to dispose of us.’’
Darwen scoffs at your smugness. ‘’’That was before King Aegon got injured.’’ You feel as if someone dropped a bucket with ice cold water over your shoulders. The king was injured?
You force your face to remain blank, an empty canvas awaiting its artist. You cross your legs and absently pull your left thumb nail. ‘’You didn’t know?’’ Of course you did not.
Someone is playing a dangerous game with you, at that Palace. What in the seven hells happened with your informant at the palace? You think back to the new uniform rule. New security protocol, indeed. ‘’King Aegon went with his dragon, to kill Rhaenys and her dragon, Meleys.’’ You remember how proudly they paraded around the skull of the dragon. Come to think of it: You didn’t see any smug Targaryens out there that day. They were cooped up in their red stone coop, probably laying eggs out of fear and fucking each other-Normal Targaryen things.
Freyda nods, confirming the news that they played dragon-tag and one had lost.‘’King Aegon got burns. It is bad.’’ You hide an amused smirk. You hope it is. ‘’So, his brother took over.’’ There goes your smirk.
His brother took over. You try to remember everything your castle-spy told you about the princes but honestly you never could be bothered to read about the princes or any royalty at all. You just read the first lines, confirming you that your spy was alive and well. Nothing interesting was mentioned until a few months ago, when Viserys died. Then a few juicy good updates. ‘’The war has started.’’ ‘’The prince was slew.’’ ‘’The two whores are off to Rook rest….’’ and since then, nothing. Silence. Only silence.
Confirming your fear that your spy is no longer alive.
‘’Who is his brother?’’ You need a brief recap on whose house you are going to break into.
Freyda hesitates to speak. ‘’Prince regent Aemond Targaryen. He rides Vhagar, the biggest dragon.’’ The biggest dragon. You know men who wielded swords twice as big as you. Men who thought biggest meant best. And you watched as Estra cut their throats with a thin, small blade. Biggest doesn’t mean strongest. Any dragon can be killed. ‘’He is terrifying, Y/N. Aegon was a known rapist, drunk and a fool…’’ You heard those tales, yes. ‘’But I prefer Aegons’s drunkenness, his lust and his stupidity over Aemond’s bloodlust and his paranoia and his sadism.’’ When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. You have so far only seen the madness. Never the greatness.
You have lost too much time as it is. You take the dress with you and intend to leave. Only Darwen stops you, his good hand digging into your skin. ‘’What will get in return for helping you?’’
You bat your lashes. ‘’My gratitude.’’
He groans as a whiny brat. ‘’Y/N.’’
‘’You are the Queen of King’s Landing.’ You are, in a certain way. Not the queen-queen but still an important female leader. You might be the only queen that is truly out there. The Queen of Aegon is powerless, so is his sister who opposes him. You hold power.
‘’Fine, you can pick out something nice. We’ll discuss the details later.’’ Or, never.
Darwen stops you, his head inches from your own. He takes your hands into his own, staring you down. ‘’Please, do not go. Your father is likely already dead. Aemond is a pig. He kills without reason. I don’t want to bury you, the way I buried everyone else.’’ You are touched, somewhere, deep down in your soul. You feel a flame awaken. You force yourself to ignore it. To avoid it.
‘’Vazzo likes to say that a boring death equals a boring life. I will bring my father home, or I will leave behind a corpse. If I do go, bury me face down. I was never afraid of the stranger. I am not going to start now.’’
-----------------------
This is my first attempt at a grey character so ....ANY SUPPORT IS WELCOME. ok yeah that was it.
Concept: You are Borros 5th daughter and Aemond hops on by to go wife shopping. It does not go well. For anyone.
Chapters: 1 so far
Warnings: def dom Aemond (Shocking I know) Book hints (No spoilers for 2 more like spoilers of what happened when Aemond came to storms end) not so very feminists Aemond. Treatment of Servants is terrible. Choking, manipulation, mentions of murder mentions of sex and a bit of creepiness. Okay a lot. Baratheon staff needs a union. Non con and forced kissing and wine tasting.
Word count: Pretty tame 2k
You are aware he will marry one of you. At least, that is the idea. You hope to convince your father to let your house stay out of this useless war.
Your father presents you as if you are all cows in heat, ready to be grabbed by the horns and be taken roughly by the prince. 'These are my five daughters. Pick one that you like.' It is up to him. You suppose if you all had a say in it, things would get complicated. None of your sisters are interested in becoming a broodmare, and that includes you.
There is something incredibly prentious about him. He forces himself to be different around your parents to get in their good graces, but his one eye says enough. There is distain there, there is that smug little glance that says it all: I am the prince, you are all below me.
He folds his hands on his back dramatically and slaunchss over. He looks at all five of you, inspecting you for any imperfections. Your father rushes to his side, speaking to him kind and full of respect. What he says, however, is anything but. 'Perhaps you would like to have a quick chat with every one of them if you haven't made up your mind yet. It is how I knew their mother was the perfect match for me.'
You think this will end badly. Your mother stands by the throne, and you can see she is fighting every urge to not rush over and to usher you all away from this beast. The prince slowly lifts his chin, eying you all as if you are sweets he can't wait to taste. 'They are all very beautiful. You and your wife must be fending off suitors daily. Such beautiful girls with such a famous name. That just invites profiteers and other scum.'
You think back to Tobias, the poor village boy you had feelings for. Unfortunately, he had feelings for Floris, and he paid the ultimate price for his feelings. Your father remembers it as well, smirking at Aemond. 'A farmer came asking for my daughter's hand. Floris is very popular. She does charity work in the village and had met him that way. She is too kind for her own good.' Aemond notices your beautiful sister and gives her a soft nod, staring a bit too long at her breasts. You can see what he is thinking. A good, obedient, beautiful young wife. It is so simple.
The Lord of Storm's end tells on. 'I told him if he could find me ten pearls, we'd have a deal.' He says with a cruel chuckle. Floris glares at him, but it is you who actually mourned Tobias. 'Poor lad drowned. He could not swim. We nailed his body to the gates to send a message.' You still remember the smell of his rotten flesh and how ravens picked out his eyes.
Aemond chuckles along, heartless, and gives your sister a smirk of a predator. 'Well, we can't blame him for trying. She sure is a pretty thing. I like how quiet they all are ' That makes you upset. You eye Cass, who has a smile on her face, but her eyes are glaring. The prince takes notice and grins at her, knowing she won't speak unless first spoken to. He is taunting her.
Your father nods when a servant brings him a goblet of wine for the prince. 'They know their place. They are good girls. They sometimes fight, but I have them make up every time. I love them dearly, but it is time they left the nest.'
Aemond takes the goblet with a grin and briefly inspects it before bringing his lips to the cup and drinking. When he is finished, there is still some wine left. 'I agree. They all seem ready to become wives.' Your sister Ellyn keeps trying to convince your mother to intervene with her scared big eyes.
He does not even thank your father for his wine. 'A good husband shares with his wives.' He eyes your father. You do not know why at first, but you realise he is making you all drink to see if it's poisoned. He pushes the cup in Cass's hands. She takes a sip without hesitation. She stares him down and gives the cup to Maris. Maris frowns at the prince. As if to say: why?
The prince nods to encourage her, and she brings the cup to her lips and rolls her eyes and drinks before passing it to Ellyn. You and your sisters all know that this will be the challenge. She does not like wine. She does not like Aemond.
He seems to like her defiance and doubts. She looks at the cup with fear and watches the red wine at the bottom of the cup. He chuckles. 'Come now, I didn't spit in it. You can have a big sip. You become a bit braver if you do.' That is enough to upset Maris.
She gets in his face even.
'She is plenty of brave.' She warns when grabbing her sister's hand. Ellyn appreciates it, but she seems to know that it's only a matter of time before she will do what the prince asks. She must.
Aemond is enraged by Maris. He glares at her, and his voice becomes a cold, soft groan.
'Did I give you permission to speak?' He barks at her like she is a dog. One of your guards drags Maris back to her spot away from Aemond.
He chuckles as Ellyn quickly takes a sip scared by his outburst. 'Good girl. Pass it down. We need to get the five of you all warmed up for what I want to do next.'
Floris is next. She gets the cup and gracefully brings it to her lips before wetting them with her tongue. The prince watches, intrigued as she throws the entire cup down her throat, leaving nothing for you. With a practised relieved sound, she finishes it and brings the cup back to the prince. You wait for him to give you a new cup, but he instead ignores you.
You nervously touch your rings and tell yourself not to worry. This means he is not interested. Whatever game he made up, he won't use you. However, Ellyn gently speaks as she is the only one that Aemond spoke to yet.
'You forgot Bentha.' She tells him soft and gentle. You are surprised he even heard that.
He looks at Ellyn, surprised with a brow raised. 'Who?'
'She.' Cass proudly says when giving you a little shove. You'd rather be back surrounded by your sisters in line. The prince subtly judges you with his eye before clicking his fingers. A servant boy quickly rushes to his side with a pitcher.
He goes too fast. The boy is new and is not used to it yet. The pitcher is too full. You watch as the wine ends up on the ground, and two drops end up on the prince's black boots. The servant quickly cleans it up and looks at Aemond.
Aemond grabs him by the throat before squeezing. You all watch in horror, and he lifts him in the air and chuckles lowly as the boy starts to palen. You hear your sister Cass scream at him in anger, and your sister Maris even tries to intervene but is stopped by the guards. 'You will watch your peasant useless ass around me. I will not have my clothes ruined by a servant boy.' He warns the terrified boy. 'Unless you'd like to become dragonfood.' He adds with a low chuckle. The boy is released and drops to the ground, injuring his knees and hands. He scrambles away from Aemond terrified.
Your mother didn't even help him. A new servant brings him a pitcher and waits for him to pour his wine. Your father seems to be shocked by the other event to even notice Aemond smirking at him. 'You really employ simple people here. This woman thinks I pour my own wine.' He says with a chuckle. 'Do it for me, wench.' He adds with a sinister smirk. 'My brother has a thing for blondes. I will have him fuck you if you don't.' He adds.
You wait as the woman pours him a cup crying silently. She hands it to him and scurries off. You take it from him once he hands it. 'So much damn trouble for a damn glass of horrible wine.' He growls annoyed by it all. You are still in shock, you think. You drink the wine.
'Back in line with you.' He tells you like you are his little trained animal. You obey.
The prince sighs, eying you all before thinking out loud.
'Let's give it a few moments to start working.' He says to all of you. You eye Cass. She is the expert on wine and her cold glare tells you that she figured out what he is going to do next.
He turns on his heel and gives your father a boyish grin. 'Are they all virgins?' You gasp softly. Your sister Ellyn even whimpers. Cass huff, and Maris scoffs at his question. Only floris remains quiet and composed.
Your mother is insulted as well. To question your virtue so out loud, in front of everyone, is an insult, to say the least. 'Of course.' She says. 'They are unmarried. Of course they are. You will have a pure bride no matter who you choose.' She promises him a lot. You know you and Ellyn never...
But Cass, Floris and Maris? You would not make that bet.
The prince chuckles, but now you see she is furious with him. She will defend you all until her final breath. He is quick to adjust. 'Forgive me for asking. You see, as a prince, I need a pure and befitting woman by my side. She needs to be pure of sin and pure of touch.' You feel yourself become sick.
With a snieveling little smirk, he turns back to you and your sisters. 'No worries, little wives. Whoever I pick will be properly satisfied.' He promises you that. Maris scoffs very softly, and you all chuckle because of her.
The prince growls at that, and he finds it disrespectful. 'I think the wine has had enough time to work. I need to see for myself you are all maiden.' He is punishing you.
'W-what?' Ellyn asks, terrified. She had never kissed before. But neither did you.
The prince's good eye rolls. 'W-well,' He mocks her stuttering. She blushes, embarrassed. 'I will test myself if you are all as untouched as you claim to be.' How will he even test that? Will he lay his hands on you? On all of you? You turn away your head from him.
He adds with a twisted grin. 'I will taste you girls.' He says. 'All of you.'
A/n
Wonder if daddy dearest regrets this match already. It is implied in the books that our favourite kinslayer kissed them all. By a very unreliable source. BUT HEY WHO CARES-
Aemond: I will kiss your daughters
Borros: weird but k.
Aemond: I will kill this unlawful useless bastard
Borros:
Thaaaaank you all for reading my stuff it warms my little heart.
Warnings: dark non con slavery kidnapping arranged marriages and animal abuse sort of.
Word count: mine says about 4251♡
Chapters published:2
Title: the first night.
Concept: You got married without permission from the royals and they don't like that so they decide to bring back a horrible old tradition from the grave where it shouldve stayed.
Not my gif. Idk how to make any gifs. Credits to who owns it.
The dress you wear is a simple white gown. It was made by your friend. She had to work every day in the tavern to earn enough coin to buy the silk from the tailor.
You slowly walk down the aisle to your future and to your soon to be husband. The cheap tavern you both rented for the festivities is filled with his friends and some of yours. Your family couldn't attend.
You didn't even tell them you are getting married. They don't know you are, in fact, alive.
He smiles and takes his hands into your own. You feel his heartbeat through his hands, and you feel your soul slowly connect and intertwine with his as the septon speaks the words you dreamt of hearing ever since you were little.
'We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.' You happily kiss your husband on his cheeks. Faybaen kisses you gently on your lips, and you feel him cloak you. The septon spreads his arms to address the crowd.
'Let it be known that Bessie Stone and Faybaen Stone are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be they who would seak to tear-'
The door of the tavern is pushed upon, and unexpected guests enter. You back away slowly, assuming your family finally found you. You take Faybaens hand into your own and whisper something in his ear. 'In case it is my father, stab me before he can drag me back. I rather die here with you than live with my awful family.' You whisper in your husband ear. He nods and prepares a small dagger ready to end your life.
Faybaen shakes his head and puts it away moments later. You feel uneasy. Gold cloaks. Only one kind of person has that. The king. 'It is not your family. I know those kinds of cloaks from the capital. This is the Kingsguard.' The cloaks are indeed unmistakably gold with white. You don't understand what they are doing here. This is an illegal wedding, perhaps, but surely they have bigger fishes to fry with the queen in open rebellion and the usurper on the throne? With the former Kings funeral and the wars?
A man comes to you.
He has silver short hairs and wears impressive armour. You know him as Aegon of house Targaryen. You suppose it's King Aegon now.
Next to you, Faybaen already curses before getting to his knees, kneeling for the king of the seven kingdoms. He hates kneeling for other men. You fake a smile and curtsy, like you did so many times. Most of your friends here are supporters of Rhaenyra. Most of them kneel for now and await their turn.
Another taller figure follows the king; He has also silver hair, but it's much longer, and he wears a very unstylish eyepatch. Faybaen gulps. 'Oh no.' He stutters softly before getting up and walking to the two brothers.
You lift your skirts before rushing and quickly follow him with your fake smile still on your lips like its armour. 'M'lords, Welcome to eh ...The tavern of my uncle, Gibsen.' Faybaen points to his uncle, who has already fled and is no longer where Faybaen points to.
Faybaen lowers his arms and nods half before eying the royals.
'Thank you, Mr-' the prince speaks before the king, and that does surprise you.
You walk to your husband and join him. 'Oh, I'm just Faybaen Stone, m'lord.' He says with a nervous little laugh. You know he is terrified. You subtly show your support by taking his hands into your own. Faybaen is a wanted criminal, after all.
The king looks around the ceremony hall that is decorated with small and cheap decorations to make it feel festive like paper doves and white simple flowers. 'Is this supposed to be a wedding?' He asks, clearly not fond of the decorations and the location.
Faybaen laughs forced and nods. The prince's eye falls on you, and he narrows it. For a moment, you see him think like he knows who you are. You smile back calmly and pretend to be just fine when inside you are nearly breaking under the pressure. This is just a test. You tell yourself.
'You must be the bride.' The king says, taking in your simple white wedding gown. He eyes you as Faybaen does. Full of desire.
You nod and make a curtsy. You still haven't forgotten how to do that. You do it too well, and Aemonds brows raise in suspicion.
'Indeed, your grace. Welcome to our humble little town. What brings you here, if you don't mind me asking so?' You can't imagine anyone stopping here anyway without good reason. Perhaps they heard rumours about the treason plot, or they are looking for Faybaen.
Come to think of it: They are not here for Faybaen. He is wanted for murders. They wouldn't send the King and the future king regent to him.
The king shrugs a bit before taking a glass of wine that is handed to him by Faybaen.
'We were passing by and needed to rest somewhere.' That could be true. And it could also be a lie.
You clap your hands, pretending to be delighted and calm. You force a smile at both of them, masking your fears very well.
'I won't keep you long, then. Please, enjoy yourselves.' You gesture to the cake displayed and the buffet of simple delicious baked goods.
Aemond steps closer to you before taking in your face very carefully. You stare back, still smiling.
'You look familair. Have we met?' He asks. You did not meet him. You do know who he is, and he might know who you are as well.
You laugh gently, a bit nervous, perhaps. 'No, I have been told I have a very common face. Perhaps that is it.' You say like that should the end of it. Aemond nods like he accepts that must be it and walks off to enjoy wine and some delicious cake.
Faybaen, meanwhile, talks to Aegon. 'My uncle wants to give you both free stay, free of charge. We planned to take the bridal suite but ...well, it is the only decent room here. You should take it, my king.' He says like he is a noble servant.
Aegon wants to already walk away, but Aemond quickly turns to Faybaen. 'Thank you, that is very generous. Are you sure your uncle is fine with us staying here? We can pay. We have no shortage of gold.' He already searches for what you assume is his wallet.
You know Faybaen a while now and now when he is spinning a story or a lie. 'Honestly, my Prince, think of all the good customers this will attract. That you both spend the night here will do wonders for our little town. It is our treat, really. Of course, your guards are welcome here as well. Food and beverages are on us.'
That makes Aemond very suspicious. 'What do you get out of this, besides publication and attention? It can't be profitable for you to give 30 men free food and housing.' He argues.
His brother sighs like a whiny little brat. 'Listen, Aemond. They want to feed us. What did they tell you about looking a horse in its mouth? If they try to kill us, we'll kill them first. It is that easy.'
Faybaen has that scoffing little glimmer in his eyes but keeps his voice neutral and grounded when turning his back to both of them and escorting them and the guards upstairs to the rooms.
You take a drink nervously. You hope you fooled them enough. Tomorrow, they'll be both gone.
Faybaen comes back to you and takes you with him to the stables. You know of the secret hidden room and enter it, and he follows. Inside, he lights a candle and sits down in one of the chairs. You join him and sigh.
He rubs his face with a towel before sighing deeply. When he speaks, you hear not the common tongue but the hoarse and throaty language of his family. The Dothraki. You have not heard the words in so long, but you still understand it just as clear when you were a little girl. 'They are onto us.'
You sigh and master to speak back in his tongue. 'Onto you, or me?' You ask, uneasy with both options.
Your uncle in law enters. Faybaen gets up and rushes over to him. Gibsen warns him with a single glance. 'Both of you should leave. This town is not safe. The pirate is asking about you.' His gaze falls upon you.
Pirate? He must mean Aemond.
You nod and gulp. 'Aemond did say he thought he recognised me. Which should be not possible. I never met him.' You were shipped to Essos when you were three. Before that, you never met any Targaryens.
'One of the guards has requested that you go to the royals. Now.' Uncle Gibsen says before helping you both out of the secret room again. 'You'll just be a good wife and keep your background as vague as possible. I don't know how long I can protect you, but by tomorrow we'll need to find a new house for you both.' He says.
He looks at Faybaen. 'You two should be outside tonight. You know it is what the great Stallion would want, Draezho. A Khal must ride his Khaleesie under the stars.' You heard that title before when you were a prisoner, but you never realised that your marriage to Faybaen would make you a Khaleesi. You feel pride and smile at Faybaen because of the exciting suggestion of him taking you under the stars far away from anyone to hear you both.
Like always, when his home is mentioned, Faybaen gets defensive. 'I am no Khal. Vazzo made sure of that when he slayed my entire Khalasar.' You accept that Faybaen has let his past be. But his friend does not. He finds the Dothraki exciting and thinks that Faybaen or Draezho should return to Essos and murder Vazzo.
You leave the stables.
You walk to the rooms of the royals and knock on the door. 'In,' you hear Aegons voice. You brace yourself and enter. Faybaen growls and follows.
Faybaen is very charming. It is one of the reasons why you fell for him. 'My king. How is the room?' He asks after he has been told to get up.
Aegon groans. 'It's the worst bed I ever laid on.' He says, and you don't doubt him for a moment. He is spoiled.
'What is your name, darling?' Aemond asks you suddenly. Faybaen raises a brow in offence by that little nickname, but you know he knows better than to hook Aemond on his nose for calling you darling.
You curtsy before introducing yourself. 'Bessie Stone.' You say softly. 'Why, my Prince? Do you think you saw me milk a goat somewhere before?' You joke.
Aemond shakes his head with a chuckle. 'I heard rumours once. About a beautiful rich house richer than the Lannisters. House SilverBone.' Your house. He is very close to finding out the truth. 'Where a girl was shipped off to meet her betrothed, but her ship got attacked by pirates who sold her allegedly to the Dothraki.' He studies your face for any reaction. Any giveaway that it is, indeed, you.
You try to keep him away from it.. 'That is a horrifying tale. I hope it is just a tale and not true.' Except you know all too well that it is true.
He does not believe you. He is busy studying the cloak that covers your shoulders. 'Hmm.' He says. He grabs you by your shoulder and pulls you to his chest. You try to break free, but he already has what he was after. He rips your cloak off on your left shoulder and exposes a small silver moon tattoo with golden lines.
A tradition in your house. They mark their babies and children to avoid kidnapping and ransom. Not that it works, but it is a tradition.
Aemond chuckles. Aegon stares at it, impressed.. You get another idea and try it. Another lie. 'It's a fake one. My parents tried to convince the SilverBones that I was their lost daughter and-'
'Except you aren't, Ayroara.' A guard softly speaks up from the wall he was leaning against. 'I did some questioning. A certain girl was very happy to pay for both information on you and your husband. She does not like foreigners.' He says so mostly to Faybaen, who bites his lips.
You eye Faybaen, and he understands. He drops his smile and gets serious. 'How much gold do you two want to keep quiet?' Faybaens voice is rough and darker.
You hope they take the money and leave. You have no interest in your former house and glory.
'Quiet? We assumed she was dead. The SilverBone heir was sent to Volantis to marry a high slave trader, but House Hightower and House Velayron and even House Targaryen all made marriage proposals.'
You scoff covering yourself with your cloak again. You roll your eyes as well. He is making it sound like it was your fault. 'Take it up with my parents, I was three summers old when I was shipped of like some common whore.'
The guard meanwhile whispers things in Aegons ears, and he chuckles cruelly and nods sometimes. Faybaen keeps biting down his lips. 'When were you going to tell me that you fuck horses?' Aegon grins at Faybaen. Oh no.
You quickly eye Faybaen, and he just scoffs at that common belief before ignoring the king.
Faybaen keeps up his lies. He protects you no matter the costs. 'Hm. I am afraid I don't know much about that, my Prince. Will you take gold, silver, or coins?' He asks.
Aegon gets up and leans in close and studies the neck of Faybaen. He smiles darkly.'Perhaps...Horses?' He jokes. He most certainly knows. Horses are a very common trade way in the Dothraki culture. 'Aemond; we are in the present of royalty. That man here is a Dothraki Khal. He has run away from his Khalasar to wed her, who was his whore.' Aemond looks up suprised by that information.
You shake your head. You were never his whore. He was kind and good to you. He never raped you. Not once. 'I was his gift!' You scream at them in anger.
Aegon shrugs carelessly. 'That is the same thing, darling. You were meant to be his whore. His plaything and his toy. You are lucky he didn't let his horse fuck you first.' He chuckles. 'Speaking of Dothraki things: Your hair damn short and not braided. Were you beaten recently?'
Faybaen gets in Aegons face. The guard surrounded him, so don't grab hold of him yet. 'I am fine with you mocking my culture and my family, but she is off limits.' He groans.
Aegon and Aemond share a long look.'I think I'm going to leave you both a wedding gift. Brother, do you have any ideas?'
You think you know suffering, but what comes out of his mouth is the cruellest thing you ever heard.
'Indeed. Long ago, there was this tradition. Where a king or even a Lord could claim a married maiden's ...virginity.' You. Your virginity. You shake your head and nervously chuckle thinking they are joking. You eye the guards. They vowed to uphold the good. They will never let this happen.
You freeze and tremble. Aemond continues before softly touching your face and staring you down until you shake. 'It was seen as a sign of honour and respect if the king was to bestow his seed upon the bride. Any babies born from it were considered heroes.' He mostly tells his brother, but he keeps his attention on you.
The king licks his lips. 'How lucky you are, Lady SilverBone that I am to bestow you with this gift.' You hear the scoffing in his voice. You growl like an angry cat.
Faybaen pulls his dagger and shields you. But he is outnumbered. Ser Criston and his friends take him into custody and smack him across his face.
You beg Aemond to let the torture stop. 'Let them stop! He is unarmed.' Surely that must do something.
He simply glares at you before nodding to the direction of the smirking king. 'Go to my brother, and I will.' You realise you don't have much of a choice or a say anymore. You wish for the beating to just end.
'Hello, darling.' You don't bow. Aegon grabs your arms and drags you to the bed, throwing you on your back. He grins before letting his hands touch and grab your breasts through the cheap fabric of the dress. He groans when he squeezes you painfully, and you whimper out loud. Faybaen quits fighting the moment he hears your whimpers.
He drops your cloak to the ground and takes off the protective little pins, keeping your dress up. The fabric doubles over exposing your breasts. The king grins and comes closer with his face to your breasts before harshly biting down on your nippels. You smack his head angrily.
He looks up, and is blood coming from his nose. You see the anger in his eyes and gulp. You cower a bit before he grabs your throat and roughly slams you against the board of the bed before ripping your dress open.
The king kisses your lips before forcing his tongue down your throat and roughly squeezing your breasts again. He chuckles when you try to resist and punish you for it by spanking you. 'Faybaen, I am so sorry.' You cry out between the smacks in Dothraki.
Faybaen is very quiet and hangs between the two guards who keep forcing him to watch.
The prince has moved next to you and watches nearly in the trance how you are touched and abused. You scoot away from him.
Your legs are spread open, and they both glance at your wet, soft looking entrance. Aegons fingers eager trace down between your entrance and you gulp soft.
He has a almost pernament smirk on his lips and slams his fingers in you roughly fucking you with pure his hand. You are confused and scared. The other brother grabs your hips and rolls them to the hand making your entire upper body move. He breaths in your ear and kisses your tear stained cheeks.
You do not like how your body likes it. You feel shame and disgust. Aegon grins as his fingers have a small white see through layer of your juice on them. 'Your Khaleesi's cunt sure is tight, Khal. You'll have to do with seconds, or if I see how invested my brother is, maybe even tirths. Perhaps we take her with us and sell her to a brothel. The Savage Queen. That makes a wonderful whore name does it not?' You grunt and try to break free.
Faybaen boils with rage.
'You are both cruel and don't deserve to lay with anyone! She is sweet and innocent. Why are you both torturing her?!' He yells.
Aemond traces a finger down between your legs too and keeps your face still so you are forced to look at him when he does this. He chuckles very softly. 'Because she looks very pretty with her legs spread wide and her cunt bare.' Aegon groans at his torture and wants to make himself the bigger torturer.
He grabs your ankle and drags you to him before taking his clothes off with a annoyed groan and a pant. 'On your knees, Khaleesi.' He mocks you. 'I wish to have you like your husband fucks you. Like a savage.' You don't feel like a khaleesi. You feel scared and unsafe. Just like when you were first introduced to Faybaen.
You obey. Aegon pets your hairs and softly kisses your wet cheeks before muttering some compliments about your body and all the dirty things He will do with you after this. You nod, softly and cling your shaking legs together. Aegon grabs you by your hips and kneels behind you. You lost faith in the gods so you don't bother to pray.
With a chuckle and a very dark twisted grin he enters your body and takes your maidenhead. You grab hold of the edge of the bed to feel a little bit of safety during this unfamiliar and strange event. Your hips are grabbed and pushes to his front with painful shameful trutst and he keeps entering you and you feel as if he is entering you to exit you from the other side out.
He slows down and breaths in your ear before speeding up again. You go up and down with him and softly whimper. 'I am going to make your Khaleesi bleed. She'll be the first Khaleesi to be blessed by a king in Westeros.' Blessed? You don't feel blessed.
You have had enough of his boasting and smack his hands that still rest on your hips. He lets go briefly and slips out. Your body has rest for a moment. 'The great Stallion and both the old gods and the new will damn you, Aegon of house Targaryen. You will die a miserable death.' You promise him.
He is not impressed. Instead he grabs you more roughly and fucks you this time. It is not gentle taking. He shoves himself deep inside you and roughly fucks your body against his. Your body likes it. You feel so disgusting. You enjoy the hard savage sex he gives you. He thinks it's punishment but your body loves it. A little bit of saliva drops down your mouth and he softly changes the rytm.
'So you do talk. I thought that my cock had took your tongue away.' He boasts before softly touching your hairs again.
You try to think of another insult, but Faybaen shakes his head. He does not want you to risk it.
'O, you naughty girl.' The king knows. He knows you are turned on. You lower your head in shame.
'Don't tell him.' You beg soft.
Aegon grins cruelly.
'What? Doesn't your husband deserve to know? I think he does.'
He turns to Faybaen.
'Your wife is enjoying herself. She is wet.' To prove his point, he shows his wet fingers.
You want to explain yourself, but the moment that you do, he takes you again. Your words get caught up in your throat, and only a pathetic little strangled sound comes out. 'Nhn!'
Aegon is stiff. 'This is going to be a little unpleasant. Just be calm.'
You cry out as your head rolls in pleasure. You roll back your hips and let him fuck You. Aegon groans. 'Disgusting savage whore.'
You cry out again this time brief little cries in a row. Both the king and the prince and your husband watches as you discover new foreign emotions and mind states.
You cry out loudly before finding peace and pleasure. Your soaked head is petted. Your legs are grabbed again and a new cock finds itself inside you.
You turn around and see that the prince has decided to also leave you a wedding gift. He pushes your head down and smacks you on your behind. You obey and let him have you your pleasure still high and your body wet and ready for the taking.
He does so, fully pushing himself in. He kisses your cheeks and mutters. They both stretch you out, and you are certain you can not walk tomorrow. You hear yourself grunt as he speeds up and begins trying to get pleasure, too. You are pushed and rocked on the bed that cracks under the two of you. Your legs are hurting, and you feel pain in your neck as well.
You moan in pain and whimper.
'It's been enough! She is hurting.' Faybaen says, trying to break free. His attempt is useless.
Aegon grins and smacks your ass painfully when Aemond is grunting and groaning like a beast. You feel small and little and crawl away to safety. You are dragged back by your feet and pushed back into the position. You drag your nails in the mattress to have some sort of safety.
'A little pain is good for brats like her. Teaches her some manners.'
The prince groans and he feels you up like his brother did before him. He chuckles and smacks your ass painfully. 'We should take her with us.'
You hesitate and shake your head at both of them. 'You did what you wanted. Let us both be now.' You beg.
Aegon sighs before eying Aemond. 'Do you want to tell her, or shall I?' He asks when dressing.
'Tell me, what?' You ask as Faybaen is finally released. He rushes to your side and protects you.
Aegon tells with a little bored chuckle. 'House SilverBone didn't had permission from House Targaryen. In fact; The crown wanted you to become betrothed with someone else. Someone closer to the throne to ensure that we had enough silver for the coming century.' Closer to the throne...
It hits you like a slap in your face. He means himself.
///a/n suffering from the flu here please excuse any errors.
