fantasyloversanonymous - Tumblr blog

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Viserys' empty eye socket and face rotting away on the side where the Hightowers sit at the dinner table and his good eye on the side where Rhaenyra and Daemon and their children sit. delicious symbolism.

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen

Forevermore, Prince -Masterlist

In case you don’t want to scroll, or simply want to have everything handed to you on a silver platter.

I’ll reblog this as it updates, about every 5 chapters or so, and try to keep it near the top of my page regardless. You can always find all the bits and pieces here: FLA Forevermore, Prince.

Thank you for any and all support! Enjoy your reading and yes, it’s going to get hot. -Fla

Prologue One Two Three Four Five

[fantasyloversanonymous]

The green council in season 2, probably

Alicent: Rhaenys could have barbecued our asses but she didn’t. There is hope for peace!

Otto: Daemon was about to carve me like a pumpkin but Rhaenyra stopped him. She shed a tear when she saw the page. She is considering our terms!

Aegon II: Great job avoiding civil war guys!

Aemond just getting back from Storm’s End:

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore, Prince -Fifteen

Aemond

There were worse places to be, Aemond supposed, sitting at the opposite end of a long brown table from Lucerys Velaryon and his newly betrothed, Rhaena Targaryen.

Most of his family scattered around the table sat about silently. Only one chair remained empty, that of his father, the King. His mother Alicent and half-sister Rhaenyra sat on either side of that chair, and neither moved or spoke as everyone waited. If he would show was up for debate, considering his condition, especially after he’d sat the throne earlier in the day. [Around 3300 words, continue below]

Still, Aemond didn’t want to be there. His grandsire sat on one side of him, his sister Helaena on the other. Aegon next to her. Their side sat like they were all stifled in the presence of the others. Even the newly betrothed Jace and Baela sat with less... refinement. He supposed he was thinking of it more in his side than theirs.

At least Jace and Baela were seemingly well matched. Aegon and Helaena were far from it. Their union had been more of a spiteful one made by their mother. It was also meant to keep the idea of Jace marrying Helaena from coming to fruition after Rhaenyra had boldly offered it. That all felt like many years ago, and it was, so Aemond moved on from it.

It wouldn’t matter how well matched Jacaerys and Baela were, not in the end. He could already see his grandsire spinning new plots, finding new courses to take to usurp Rhaenyra. Even as they sat awkwardly amongst each other, Aemond could see Otto deciding this and that way of approaching the matter.

Aemond knew his grandsire wasn’t the type to lick his wounds, at least he hadn’t been since Aemond lost an eye. He’d seemed proud of that triumph and had catered to many of Aemond’s wants for a time following. That had been short lived, same as this false peace at their dinner table.

His mother stood suddenly, prompting all of their eyes to turn to her. Seconds later, the doors sounded, pulling apart to reveal Aemond’s father being carried in. Everyone stood. It felt childish to Aemond, welcoming his father in like such. Still, the status quo was what it was. He’d be damned, however, if he ever had to greet Aegon like this.

Once the King was situated in his place, everyone sat, lastly the queen Alicent.

Rhaenyra seemed to be studying Alicent and the King’s interaction, a bit of concern and a bit understanding spreading over his features. She looked younger to Aemond, but he didn’t dwell on that. He had never cared much for Rhaenyra or even much for her actions. He didn’t care about what was just. He at least wished he didn’t.

Sometimes, Aemond didn’t have to think about these things, because he was well trained at keeping things within even from himself. But everything with Aelyssan earlier was still causing other things to surface. All of it was making him particularly miserable.

Helaena, who was the best at noticing these things, didn’t notice. So he was relieved in the fact no one else was. As his mother led a prayer, Aemond closed his eyes. He didn’t listen too intently to what she said. Images were flashing quickly threw his mind, of himself as a boy, of the night he lost his eye, of Aelyssan and how she might’ve potentially met Luke, of Aelyssan the night Aemond had met her, and many more. He didn’t get to dwell on any, not even his most fond mental pictures, particularly ones where he and Aelyssan coupled.

He barely realized when his mother was done and drinks were being poured. Aemond didn’t wait even as his father stood before he took a long drink from his cups. It made him feel a bit like his brother, but he wanted to feel numb. More numb than he was currently. And he wanted to feel it soon.

He’d sent Aelyssan off. She promised to come back, to see him soon, but his hopes weren’t high. He knew better.

He wouldn’t see her again. Aemond didn’t know completely if he was content with that or not. He knew that he would miss her, and that missing her would distract him from... living.

He tried not to think about it as the King gingerly raised his own cup. “This is an occasion for celebration it seems,” he started. “My grandsons Jace and Luke will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bonds between our noble houses. A toast, to the young princes and their betrothed.”

Daemon, from the seat past Rhaenyra, cheered at the King’s toast. Aemond had no doubt that he was the worm in Rhaenyra’s ear who had planted the idea to marry the boys to the girls. His grandsire Otto must’ve believed it so too, because he mumbled something incoherently that had him taking a deeper drink than even Aemond had.

Aemond barely looked to him though, as Aegon started to play with Jace and Baela. He was never one to sit still, never one not to stir, especially in the presence of their father. Aegon wanted attention grossly.

“A toast as well to Lucerys. The future Lord of the Tides.” Aemond couldn’t help staring at Lucerys as the King spoke. His betrothed said something about him making a good Lord of the Tides, but Aemond didn’t quite catch all the words. He didn’t much care, either. Luke looked uncomfortable with the toast and the attention, which did give Aemond a bit of satisfaction.

Aegon kept bugging at Jace all the while. Aemond was about to lean and whisper something harsh about shutting up to his brother when the King stood. His breaths were short and slow as he started speaking again. “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow, to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world. Yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.”

He took a break from his speech to unlatch the mask upon most of his head. Aemond stared into the void that had been his fathers eye when it came free. “My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was. Tonight, I wish you to see me as I am, not just a king but your father. Your brother. Your husband. Your grandsire.” He spit the words at them. “Who may not walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the house of the dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man. Who loves you all, so dearly.”

Aemond’s grip tightened around his cup. The words seemed hollow and lame to him. Where was this love when he’d lost his eye? Where was this love when Aegon continued to stray away from his bride? He wanted peace because he was old and dying. Aemond knew there could never be peace. They’d tried and tried and there never had been before. There had been falseness and secrets, but never peace.

Nothing would change in a night. A dinner.

Still, he sat silently, staring and staring at his father. The King sighed and sat back into his seat, with Alicent’s help. Rhaenyra stood next. Aemond didn’t want to hear her words. He mostly tuned her out. He stared into the swirling liquid filling his cup halfway. She spoke, and then his mother, but all their words and gestures meant nothing to less than nothing. Aemond knew them all for what they were. He knew the house of the dragon for what it was.

A farce. A ploy. A look at what power was, but nothing else. They weren’t a family. Aelyssan had made that clear. She’d said her family had all loved one another, and even his father spoke of love, but Aemond did not feel it with any of them or within this room. Even with sweet Helaena, who had been done wrong at every turn even more than him by this supposed family, Aemond did not love. He would protect her, he would protect some of them mostly due to duty if nothing else, but that was different and he knew it.

In the truth of it, Aemond cared none for love at all. For people or titles or things.

“You will make a fine queen,” his mother spoke, cutting through Aemond’s thoughts. He almost laughed as they all drank. He knew his mother had never believed those words before, and he doubt she did now. She was sentimental to old fond memories and the sway of her King’s words.

Aemond wiped the words from his mind and watched as Aegon moved to annoy Baela. Jace stood after a few moments, and Aemond followed suit. His grandsire, the Hand watched the two of them. Aemond didn’t care, he was entirely willing to brawl with Jace even under the pretenses of doing it for his brother.

Yet, Jacaerys raised his glass and spoke. “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond, we have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles.” Everyone drank except for Aegon and Aemond, the former getting a clasp on the shoulder from Jace.

“To you as well,” Aegon murmured. All of Jace’s side of the table was smiling, proud of their future King.

The current King turned to Aemond, but he refused to look at his father. He looked at Jace for a moment before he sat back down.

“Well done my boy,” the King started, his gaze now fixed on Jace. No doubt he was imagining what a King Jace might be.

“I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena,” Helaena spoke, demanding everyones attention, “they will be married soon. It isn’t so bad, mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Daemon laughed and Otto smiled as Helaena sat. Aemond tried to keep his face passive, even as he did find it worth a laugh that Helaena had made him worse of a fool than even Jacaerys just did.

“Let us have some music.” The King commanded.

Jacaerys said something to his betrothed and stood. Aemond watched as Rhaenyra’s heir moved swiftly to Helaena and offered her his hand. As they stood and moved to dance, Aegon turned to Aemond, a look of horror spread on his face. Aemond found amusement in that too, but played it off with a dull tap of his fingers against the wooden table. Tonight might be interesting after all.

All around, chats sprang forth. Food began to pass around the table. Even Rhaenyra and Alicent shared an almost sweet look of long awaited understanding. It all made Aemond want to escape. He tried to focus on other things, but those other things were just Aelyssan and focusing on her would be worse than this.

The King Viserys watched Jacaerys and Helaena dancing, a small smile spread over his face, when the doors to the room opened again. This time, there was no escort, only a lone woman. Aemond almost jumped from his chair when his eyes landed on Aelyssan, bedecked in Targaryen finery. Her hair had been spun up into a bun, and red and black jewels were pushed into the front.

Jace and Helaena stopped dancing. No one was moving. Even the music faltered, but only for a moment.

Her gown was a deep red, deeper than dried blood and it had no sleeves and was cut deeply between her breasts. If Aemond’s anger at not understanding what was happening wasn’t flaring, he would’ve drug her from the room, even just into the hall, and taken her.

His grandsire Otto finally stood as the doors closed behind Aelyssan. She had red and black thick rings glittering over her fingers. She had looked astounding the other night, but now. She looked devastating.

“What is the meaning of this?” Aemond’s mother whispered harshly across the table to him.

The King was blinking at Aelyssan as she walked closer. She didn’t turn to Aemond, and that irked him more. “Your Grace,” she spoke and bowed. Aemond could barely hold himself steady at the table. He almost worried his grip on his cup would leave it shattered.

“Excuse me,” Otto started, trying to make his way around the table.

Viserys waved his hand toward him. “Leave her be, leave her be.” His voice was gruff. He was succumbing to his pain again and quickly. “I know who she is.”

Everyone turned to the King, except Jace and Aemond. Aemond almost wanted to roar at Jace and ask him why he was still looking upon her. “You do?” Otto asked, since no one else seemed to want to.

“She is Saera’s daughter. She is welcomed in my house. She...” His voice died and he rubbed at his head beneath his mask. “She came to me earlier and asked my leave. Leave her be, Otto. Leave her be. My grandsire would’ve wanted it.” He was gone after that into a fit of his pain. The queen called to his kings-guard.

As he passed Aelyssan, she smiled at him, small and noble. If not for his pain, Aemond was sure he would’ve smiled back.

Jace was still looking at her, so finally, Aemond moved. It took only a few steps until he was before her. He wanted to grab her arm and force her out just to get an explanation from her, but she seemed to sense that. “I said you’d see me soon,” she whispered to him.

“Are you mad?” he countered. He was going to ask her to leave, but he moved too slow. He thought of it too late.

Daemon was there. “Saera Targaryen is your mother?”

“She is.” Aelyssan stood firm, almost like she was sizing him up. “And you killed a man today.”

Daemon instantly smiled. “I thought you looked familiar in the throne room. The hair really pulls the pieces of the puzzle together.”

“Enough, Aelyssan,” Aemond made to reach for her. She sidestepped him.

“I’d like to eat,” she spoke and glanced at him. Aemond would let her win. He’d have to, for now.

She walked around him and toward the table, where a servant was already tugging another chair toward it. The girl paused, unsure of where to place it. Aemond refused to speak. He wanted to see how Aelyssan would pick this.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have to. “Put her seat by mine,” Helaena offered at Aemond’s back, her dance with Jacearys continuing. “Please.”

The servant obeyed and Aelyssan sat down. Aemond slowly sat beside her. He rested one hand in his lap, squeezing at his own thigh to keep his temper from bettering him. What was she thinking. She’d gone to the King. She was here now, at this already ruinous meal. And she didn’t seem the least bit phased that she had kept her plans from Aemond.

Rhaenyra leaned slightly toward her. “I heard tales about your mother as a little girl.” The smile she offered Aelyssan was a bit mischievous.

“As did the queen.” Aelyssan nodded toward Alicent. Aemond’s mother returned the gesture, though she still looked a bit out of wits because Aelyssan was here. Aemond couldn’t blame her. “I’m afraid my mother wasn’t too sentimental about her time here. I was never told much about the keep or dragons beyond... fun facts.”

“You’re the girl from the hall,” Luke interrupted them. Aemond squeezed his leg tighter. “You knew who I was.”

Aelyssan bowed her head to him and Aemond thought red flashed through his vision. Jace seemed to pause in his dance, a hiccup in his moves. “Yes, Lucerys. Congrats on today.” The same servant who’d fetched her a chair was now setting a plate and glass in front of her. “No wine,” she commented quickly before the servant could pour. “Just water.”

“I forgot you do that.” Aegon spoke lamely. Aemond wanted to throw something at him.

“You’ve clearly already met this lot,” Daemon spoke and leaned back in his chair. He moved his gaze to Aemond and half of his lips curled up. “Did your mother marry your father, Aelyssan?” Aemond cursed himself, he’d been the one who revealed her name, no wonder Daemon had so easily read him. Them.

“No. My mother has never wed.”

Daemon hummed and grabbed hold of his own glass. “Pity. You could’ve wed into the line, somewhere or another.” He kept his focus on Aemond as he spoke.

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra cautioned him.

“What? As if more Targaryens wouldn’t strengthen the crown. I’d wager that’s why my brother has allowed her here. None of you were there save Otto when a few of her brothers were positioning for the crown to begin with.” He began on a story about the Great Council, but Aemond tuned him out.

Aelyssan turned to him. Her gaze seemed to soften on Aemond and beneath the table she grabbed his hand with her own, forcing him to let go of his leg. Her touch was gentle, coaxing. And he still wanted to pull away. He felt like he was a seething flame. She said something but he didn’t catch it.

Across the table, Luke was staring at her and then Aemond. He kept looking between them and then he smiled. It was enough for Aemond to snap. Aemond ripped his hand free from Aelyssan as he stood and slammed it into the table. Instantly, the music and dancing and small banter ceased.

He grabbed his glass as Aelyssan peered up at him. He tried to ignore she was there at all. “A final tribute, to the health of my nephews. Jace. Luke. And Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise.” He let himself pause. He felt those seething flames gather in him and let them rage, let them come to the surface of everything he was. “And strong.”

“Aemond,” his mother spoke quickly. Aelyssan looked ready to rise from her seat.

“Come, let us drain our cups,” he continued, “to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace countered. Good, Aemond thought. He wanted the fight. Wanted the anger. He wanted someone else to feel it all for a change.

“Why?” Aemond turned toward him. “It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?” Jace’s fist collided with the side of his face before he’d entirely finished his words.

At the table, Aegon slammed Lucerys against it. Someone was calling to each of the boys, but Aemond didn’t care. He barely heard. He was smiling, maybe laughing. This was what he wanted. This was what they were, all of them. He pushed Jace to the ground as another person yelled at them.

Jace moved quickly to get back on his feet, but not quick enough. Guards grabbed at him and Aegon and Luke, separating them all. Aemond continued to laugh, even as his mother came toward him. Aelyssan was standing, staring at Aemond in what he assumed was horror.

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?” Alicent asked.

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.” As he spoke, he advanced on Jace again.

Unfortunately, Daemon strode up, he held one hand to Jace and the prince complied, backing away with the rest of their lot. Rhaenyra was commanding them away as well. Daemon turned to Aemond and sighed, placing his hands on the sword at his waist.

Aemond only smiled at the older man, images of what had happened to Vaemond earlier clouding his mind, and stepped from the room. Let the rest of them chat and play. He was in no mood.

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Wish I could tell these House of the Dragon Targaryen’s that none of this shit will matter anyway because there dynasty will end and the throne will just end up going to a man with the personality of dried white bread that smokes 6 blunts a day and talks to birds 

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore, Prince -Fourteen

Aemond

He was beginning to grow tired of cat and mouse with Aelyssan.

He wasn’t sure what role he was even in. Maybe, she was playing the cat and she was simply bored of the mouse. In this way, bored actually meant pissed with. He decided he’d prefer her avoiding him to him being unable to find her. Today of all days. [Around 3000 words, continue below]

Of course he had to pick a fight last night.

Of course he had to deal with his families issues this morning.

Of course Aelyssan had to run off gods know where in the meanwhile.

Aemond thought if he were lucky she would be sailing for Volantis now. She’d discussed going home, she was probably missed there. At least by her dragon and older brother and probably even her mother, Saera. Even as he decided it would be a good thing, he could feel the bitterness heavy in him. He didn’t want her to go home, especially not now when she was angry with him.

He didn’t understand her anger. Or, more transparently, he didn’t care for it. She couldn’t begin to understand what had happened between the lot of their family, and why they’d severed themselves so greatly. She was a Targaryen in blood, not name. She shouldn’t even care about any of their succession to anything.

Of course it was Luke turning her against him. He tried not to dwell on it or consider things that way. He even tried not to think about Luke at all. None of it mattered. Aemond circled back to those thoughts, those feelings and memories and anger every chance he got.

Even stomping through the halls on his way to the throne room, Aemond was picturing that night when he’d claimed Vhagar. He could hear all the shouting of his nephews and cries of his cousins. He could remember the King demanding answers and justice for his calling the boys bastards. Rhaenyra was the favorite, Rhaenyra was the heir.

He didn’t care about that. His mother wished he did, but he didn’t. Even if Rhaenyra wasn’t the heir, it wouldn’t be Aemond. Why should he truly support his drunken brother if he were to turn usurper? The thoughts ebbed in him, making him more anxious, more angry, as he stepped into the throne room.

Everyone stood as they normally did in such a setting. His mother and siblings to one side, the Sea Snake’s brother nearest to them, Baela behind her grandmother and the Sea Snake’s bride. On the other side were Rhaenyra and her court which included his uncle Daemon. Baela’s twin sister Rhaena stood with them.

His attention snagged on Luke. The boy was nervous, standing close to his mother’s back and clenching and unclenching his fists. Aemond wanted to laugh, but Aelyssan’s voice kept pushing to the forefront of his mind. She kept telling him he was just a boy.

He clenched his jaw and stalked to his mother and siblings. Of course, his grandsire sat on the Iron Throne today. Their father was old and frail and sick. This would be the first blow to the reds. This would be the first blow to Rhaenyra’s claim. He knew how his grandsire would decide things.

He’s just a boy.

Aemond tried and failed to push the thought away. Helaena seemed to notice his inner turmoil. She looked to him briefly, eyes a bit wide. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Aemond muttered back. He was far from it, but it didn’t matter. Rhaenyra and Aegon mattered. If today went as his grandsire wanted, it would be his first step in supplanting Rhaenyra and putting Aegon on the throne. Aemond didn’t need to care about how that came about. He didn’t need to consider Luke and Jace and their younger brother Joff and what might happen to all of them if it occurred. He shouldn’t care.

He wouldn’t care.

Helaena clearly didn’t believe him, but she turned away, back to the proceedings. Lord Vaemon Velaryon was the first to speak. Aemond tuned him out. He knew the arguments, so did his mother and grandsire, though they would pretend this was their first time hearing it.

Aemond stared toward Luke again, and instantly regretted it. Luke was looking back at him and he would’ve expected the boy to smirk or laugh to see what Aemond had become since the last time they’d seen each other. Instead, it was like Luke didn’t see Aemond exactly, he saw an enemy. He saw someone trying to steal from him, harm him. He looked away as soon as he realized Aemond was watching him back.

He’s just a boy.

Aemond cursed Aelyssan. He would finish having things out with her later. He would make her see his side. Even if she was on her way back to Volantis. He would mount Vhagar and find her, whether it was on ship or back in Volantis that they met again, he would accomplish it.

All his muddles thoughts drained away when the throne room doors opened again, just before Rhaenyra could delve into her reasoning on why Lucerys was the only viable heir to Driftmark. His father, hobbled, a mask on most of his face, light white hair ready to fall out from the clumps that were left on him, came within the throne room.

Suddenly, the proceedings had all of his attention.

—

Aelyssan

She didn’t know why she was there, pressed comfortably into the cold wall of the throne room.

She blended in quite nicely, if not just because everyone was absorbed in what would happen today. She’d hidden her hair beneath a plain white cap and was in her usual clothes, a black cloak thrown overtop. She’d originally been ready to leave, to curse Aemond and go home to Volantis by ship. When she was ready to finish the fight with him she would send a raven and demand he come to her, if only because she knew it would infuriate him more to be summoned after she’d run from him.

Still, she hadn’t left the Red Keep or ventured out for a ship. She’d managed to navigate the shadows. She’d changed her clothes, got only a little sleep and then went to throne room. She owed it to Aemond, in some strange way. To see how things would play out. At least, that’s what she told herself.

She couldn’t help listening to the older man rooting for his own claim with a laugh. Apparently in Westeros, a second son could never be satisfied. Then the King had appeared. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but he seemed to succeed all those thoughts she might’ve had.

Even though he looked to be genuinely falling apart, he commanded the room. Even Aelyssan straightened as he made his way toward that foreboding throne at the center. His Hand, whom Aelyssan only remembered with no fondness, stepped down. She watched the King whisper something to him, but she couldn’t hear it. The Hand relented to him with a curt nod and the King continued on.

Aelyssan stepped out from the corner. She didn’t care if Aemond saw her. She’d seen him strut in and could instantly tell he was still in a deplorable mood. She wanted to see what the King was doing, what his plan was.

He took frequent breaks as he tried to ascend the throne. When he was almost there, his crown tumbled from his head. Aelyssan didn’t know who went to attend him, except that he had Targaryen hair to his shoulders and the King allowed his accompaniment as he finally, finally sat on the throne. The other man put the crown back on the King’s head, and then swiftly moved back down.

The other man caught Aelyssan’s eye just for a moment, but he regarded her little to nothing as he returned to whom she assumed was his wife’s side. She knew only one person the wife could be, in her dress of red and black and with that usual Targaryen hair. Rhaenyra, Aemond’s half-sister. Lucerys’s mother. That made the man Daemon Targaryen, brother to the King. Behind them, she saw Lucerys, one hand grasped firmly in his mother’s.

The King took a few deep breaths, steadying himself. He gripped his cane harshly as he spoke. “I must admit my confusion.” His words seemed to carry some invisible, strange weight through the throne room despite his frail appearance. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes, is the princess Rhaenys.”

The dark man who’d spoken for himself turned to another Targaryen woman. She barely caught his eye, a small, dimmed smile on her lips. “Indeed, Your Grace,” she answered and stepped forward. Aelyssan would admit, for what she thought might’ve been the princess’s age, the princess was stunning. She moved eloquently and Aelyssan was instantly mesmerized by her. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Prince Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.” Aelyssan almost wanted to cheer for Lucerys. “As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well,” the King started, “the matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

Rhaenys stepped back as the man from earlier started on a new rant. A dry laugh escaped him first. “You break law, and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Don’t you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“Allow it? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The King and the Lord caught each other’s eye. Both looked to be ready to hold firm. Aelyssan glanced at Aemond, but he hadn’t moved, he was staring at the encounter too. Vaemond turned swiftly to Lucerys, a finger pointed heftily in his direction. “That is no true Velaryon!” He turned back to the King. “And certainly no nephew of mine.”

Princess Rhaenyra came quickly to her sons defense. “Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” Her voice sounded sweet, despite the argument ensuing.

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson. And you no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

“You may run your house as you see fit. But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the doom and gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this...” Vaemond’s voice faltered and faded. He seemed to look around at Rhaenyra and those who stood with her. His gaze hardened. “Her children are bastards.” His words echoed. Everyone seemed to move forward and gasp or groan. “And she is a whore.”

Aelyssan looked to Aemond again, and a small grin was spreading over his lips. His eyes were still fixated on what was transpiring, he hadn’t even tried to see her. As everyone was still gathering their own bearings, Aelyssan moved. She stepped from the back of crowds and circled around at peoples back, moving easily toward Aemond. Everyone was still focused on what was happening, especially as the King stood shakily from his throne.

He unsheathed a sickly twisted dagger. “I will have your tongue for that.”

An uproar ran through the throne room as Daemon Targaryen took aim and sliced through Lord Velaryon’s head. It was a neat, delicate slice, one that had easily left him with said tongue.

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon offered drily.

Aelyssan was almost to Aemond, who stared and stared toward Daemon with a glint of fire and amusement in his eye, as the Hand roared, “Disarm him!”

“No need,” Daemon answered. He stepped back into his side, his family.

Aelyssan stopped paying any of them any attention as the King began to collapse and his wife ran to him, a member of the kings-guard with her. She was close enough to Aemond to grab him, and she did.

One of the prince’s hands reached easily for a dagger on his belt as his eye drifted toward her. He grabbed that dagger, but didn’t unsheathe it. This close, Aelyssan could truly see the amusement spread over his features. She wanted to scream at him, but she contained herself.

She looked back at the crowds. Some were still murmuring over the Lord Vaemond’s body crumpled on the ground. Some were staring to the King, who was being helped from the hall. Daemon and Rhaenyra were ushering their broad out the same way. She caught sight of Lucerys, who looked like he might be sick. He was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his elder brother as they were pushed out.

“Let’s go,” she said low to Aemond.

He turned to his siblings and spoke, “Get Helaena to her chambers, Aegon. Or I will cut off your favorite part.”

With that, Aemond moved a hand over hers, taking it from his wrist and interloping their fingers. He led her the opposite way than the others went, through a door hidden beneath dark curtains behind the Iron Throne. No one had even attempted to watch them, so caught up in what had just transpired. Aelyssan’s heart was beating funnily, but she couldn’t pinpoint why.

They could still hear the bit of roars and flurry of movement from the throne room even as they went farther and farther into the dim hall. “Aemond,” she spoke with a hardened, commanding tone. She pulled at his hand to stop him. “What was that.”

He barely looked at her as he answered, “A funeral.” She could see clearly on his face he hadn’t expected the funeral to be for Vaemond. He’d thought it was be the start of Rhaenyra’s, and the entirety of Luke’s.

“You looked...” She stopped herself, she didn’t have the right words.

“Do we have to discuss this?”

No, she thought, we don’t. “I’m returning to Volantis. At daybreak.”

“What?” his voice was low, cold. Aemond had never spoken to her so indignantly.

“I’m returning to Volantis.”

“Why?”

She gestured back toward where they’d come from. “I will not support what your family is trying to do, Aemond.”

Even in the dimness, she could see him set his jaw. She could see his eye gleam with unabashed emotion that he otherwise tried to conceal. “Very well.” He loosened his fingers, like he’d drop her hand, so she tightened her own on his.

Something seemed to crack within her. She didn’t want to dwell on what.

—

Aemond had led Aelyssan the long way back to his rooms. With all the guests in the keep, he’d said it was the easiest way. She supposed he was right, only because she didn’t have an actual argument.

When they arrived back, though, his grandsire was waiting.

“Aemond,” he regarded the prince. His eyes barely glanced over Aelyssan. “There’s to be a dinner tonight, all of the King’s family, together.” Aemond opened his mouth to argue, but Otto went on. “It’s at his grace’s behest. He’s demanded it. You will attend.” His scathing gaze moved to Aelyssan completely. “And I hope alone.”

Neither Aemond nor Otto said a goodbye as the Hand of the King stormed from the room.

Aemond dropped her hand and unclasped his dagger from his side. He threw it toward an empty table. Each movement he made seemed to be angry, almost untethered. “Aemond,” she started.

He didn’t turn to her so she continued. “I know it probably feels like I am punishing you. I’m not.”

“No, you’re not,” he pulled open the drawers to one of the long dressers that contained his clothes. “You’re abandoning me.”

“I...” She shook her head. “It isn’t possible for me to abandon you, Aemond.”

“Stop,” he turned to her with a different black shirt, one with a lower collar, in his hand. “You should go now, before most of today’s ships head out. It’ll be a head-start on your journey home.”

“Do you really see no problems with what your mother and grandsire are doing?” She couldn’t help pushing the argument.

“You don’t understand.”

He tried to turn away again, but Aelyssan moved quicker than him. She grabbed his face in either of her hands and forced him to look at her. “I do not understand, Aemond, because my family loved one another. All of us. As crazy as that may seem to you, it is true.”

“Really?” Again, his voice turned cold. “How did your family show that love?” He pulled back from her hands, and used one of his to rip his eye patch free. That sapphire eye gleamed at her, exposing her own sad and sunken face as a reflection. “Did any of them cut each other’s eye out?”

It dawned on her what Luke had done to earn such distaste from Aemond too late. “Aemond,” she tried. But she didn’t know what else to say. She wouldn’t lie to him, and pretend there could be justice for his losing an eye. She didn’t know how to comfort him without lying. She was at a loss, at his mercy.

The prince only laughed, loud and bitter. “He’s just a boy, right. He was just a boy then too. So was I. Do you know what he got?” She couldn’t find words, she couldn’t even move, so Aemond continued. “I broke his nose. That’s it. I lost an eye, he had a broken nose. I was the monster.”

She stepped to him, and his breaths were raging from him, like even the anger he was clearly showcasing wasn’t all that he had, and the rest was trying to bubble free, trying to overtake him. Aelyssan knew she couldn’t heal him, knew she could never truly make things better. She couldn’t apologize for what he’d been through, for the pawn that some were treating him as.

She pulled Aemond to her and kissed him. He didn’t instantly kiss her back, like he normally would. He was hesitant. Still, he dropped the shirt he was planning to change into and wrapped his arms around her. As he kissed her back, Aelyssan could feel the finality in it.

Aemond would not tell her goodbye in words, but she was sure this would be it. If she allowed it. She had other plans.

She didn’t consider that they might’ve been worse, in the long run.

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore, Prince -Thirteen

Aelyssan

The first few days were a haze. What felt like a far too giddy and controlled blur. Things like that tend not to last.

She spent her nights with Aemond, though he was gone most of the day dealing with his family and whatever bit of fallout his bringing her here had wrought for him. Regardless, Aemond didn’t complain, he didn’t even seem the slightly bit upset. He indulged her every night in many gracious ways and Aelyssan hoped, almost prayed to the seven of Westeros, that it wouldn’t end. [Around 4200 words, continue below]

No one seemed to be watching her if she flaunted around in the upper apartments of the Red Keep. Aemond had assured her she could at least venture that far safely and undisturbed and he’d been more than right. She’d barely even glimpsed another shadow.

If it hadn’t been for Aemond’s company and the strange, terrifying joy she felt enveloping herself when she was with him, she might’ve gone mad from boredom.

She was staring at the old, red ceiling of Aemond’s rooms when he walked in. The moon was already at its apex and Aelyssan had bathed and now laid about Aemond’s bed in little else but a robe. Her hair cascaded over the edge and still dripped lightly on the cold floor below.

Aemond was already taking his jacket and shirt off as he came toward her. Aelyssan barely noticed him until his lips pressed against her exposed collar bone. He bit her a bit, playfully, tauntingly. She leaned into his touch, his lips, tangling her hands easily into his hair before it could slide over her face.

“Kasta jurnegon sȳz va ao,” he murmured into her skin, voice much lighter than Aelyssan had ever heard before.

“You say that because it’s the color of your house. Or, one of them.” Aelyssan mused, biting back her laugh. Everything in her felt molten and bubbling around Aemond, like she had no firm or permanent form, like she could or would be anything, for him, with him. Everything felt too good and she knew it but she tried to ignore it. It worked, usually.

He moved to kiss her lower, lips fluttering over her chest. Aelyssan pushed his head back before his lips could connect with her already hardened nipples. “Aemond,” she cautioned.

“What?” he practically whined before pulling himself completely from her. He sat on the edge of the bed and rested a hand on her thigh. She knew he hadn’t fully relented when he started rubbing small circles, again and again, up and up, aiming for the apex between her legs.

“Aemond!” she spoke stronger and flipped herself over and away from him.

He laughed loud and boisterously, crawling onto the bed and grabbing her back by her hips. She practically slammed into his chest and he was still laughing and she couldn’t help but join him even as her robe began to slip inch by inch. Aemond moved to attach his lips to her again but she pushed him back by his chin.

The prince groaned, dismayed. “What?” he repeated.

“Can we do something tomorrow?”

“That’s why you would deny me my right to you?” he finished pulling his jacket off at he spoke. It was a darker green than the robe she bore, and there was a lace thread around the cuffs on either sleeve that appeared white.  “Because you’re bored.”

“You have little to no right to me, and I’d argue I’ve done worse because I was bored.”

He easily agreed, sitting back and tugging off his boots and nodding at her. “Yes, you have.”

“So?” This time, she crawled toward him, placing herself close enough that she knew Aemond could peak down her robe if he wished. And he did, as was obvious from the growing bulge in his pants.

“Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, Aelyssan.”

She almost kissed him just for saying her name. It always sounded so absolutely divine from his mouth. “Why’s that?”

“They arrive tomorrow.”

They... Aelyssan groaned, inwardly. Aemond hadn’t told her much since they’d actually arrived about the supposed inheritance struggle about to occur in the Red Keep, at the audience of the King himself. Or his Hand and his wife, Aemond’s mother. The details were foggy in her mind and she honestly preferred them that way. The callous way his mother, and even he, approached the idea of bastards made Aelyssan plenty annoyed. Aemond seemed to understand that well, and tiptoed around discussing it.

There was more to it, she was sure, but Aemond hadn’t shared that with her either.

“And,” he took a heavy breath, like his next words were not his own and he didn’t want to give them life or meaning, “You’ve been invited to dinner tomorrow night as well. It’ll be you, my mother and my siblings and I. Helaena and Aegon’s children might be there, too.” He shrugged.

“Who invited me?” She was happy, a bit, and somewhat worried. Mostly, she was just curious. “Why won’t your guests be there too?”

“Why would we dine with them?” Aemond blinked at her like she’d said something dimwitted. When she pursed her lips, he backtracked. “We don’t particularly get along, obviously. They just aren’t invited.”

She’d let the subject go, for now. “So who invited me? And why invite me?”

“Do you not want to go?” He stood and stepped toward the fireplace, where nothing blazed. He crouched down, his shirt spilling a bit over him, clearly almost too large for his well-honed figure. “I won’t make you attend.”

“I want to go.” She walked across the cool floor and stood to his side, one hand on his shoulder. “If you want me there.”

Aemond threw a few broken logs into the empty fireplace before placing his own hand atop hers. “I want you to do as you please.” He looked up at her and tore the eyepatch that covered his jewel from his face with his free hand. She still wasn’t used to it, the stark brightness in his face. The way her own reflection danced along within it. “Wasn’t that our deal? You come and go as you please.”

“I have not gone yet.”

“Yet,” he echoed as he stared at her.

Aelyssan sighed. “I have been thinking about that. Returning to Volantis. I should soon, at least for a bit. I do still have my dragon there.”

“Yes,” Aemond finally turned back to the fireplace and dropped her hand. He grabbed a candlelight from a nearby table and chucked the candle it. “You should go tomorrow night.”

Again, her lips pursed. “What? Right after dinner?”

“Or the next morning. Just...” Aemond sighed this time and stood. Her hand slipped off his shoulder and down to his wrist. The flame within the fireplace turned into a dancing many, almost in an instant. And he’d barely even tried to stoke it. “Just before everything happens with my... with Rhaenyra and my uncle and their lot, alright. I’d rather you be somewhere else.”

She leaned into Aemond’s side, a small smile spread over her lips. “And why is that?”

“Because when things become ugly in this family, they become hideous.” His tone sharpened and became distant. Aelyssan wanted to push, but she wanted him to rely on her, to trust her, without her having to force it.

“I’m not leaving, dārilaros.”

He hummed. “I like when you say that.”

“I like when you say my name.”

Aemond turned his head and kissed her own, once. “My Aelyssan.”

She couldn’t help the light laugh that escaped her. “I am far from yours, Aemond Targaryen.”

The prince only shrugged and turned back to the growing flames. Aelyssan wasn’t completed abated in her boredom or her wonders, but she let Aemond have those moments and the rest of the night. She worshipped him as she felt he deserved, as she was sure no one ever had, and when they finally fell into their sleep, they did so together.

—

Aelyssan felt entirely too overdressed. She didn’t have Aemond to ask even if she was, since he’d kissed her awake, told her he was going to train and then had never come back. She’d done the best with what was available to her without knowing exactly where to find anything else. At least, she hoped she’d done her best.

For his part, he’d at least left her a scribbled half-note, half-map to where they’d be eating. That also annoyed her a bit, just because that meant he’d planned on ditching her to get ready and find her way alone. So she counted herself increasingly lucky when she came upon a dark haired boy in a silver-hued cloak, looking out one of the lower windows of the Red Keep.

He had a cute face, with the rounded cheeks of a young boy who hadn’t quite outgrown his kid years yet. His eyes were almost as dark as his hair and he was frowning, in a way that seemed too turbulent for someone his age. Even for someone with a face quite as strikingly cute as his.

She almost wanted to turn back the way she’d come, but he’d already spotted her. He scrunched his brows together like he had to ready himself and put a mask on as she approached. “Hello,” she tried to speak sweetly, but she knew her annoyance that was growing over the evening was getting in her way. “I’m Aelyssan. I’m so sorry to bother you.”

The young boy just smiled and she could tell he’d finally decided what mask to don. “It’s no bother. I’m Lucerys.” He extended a gloved hand toward her, and Aelyssan shook it firmly. She tried to match his smile.

“It’s probably weird, but could you answer something for me, Lucerys?” She felt oddly like she’d heard his name somewhere before, but it wasn’t more prudent to her then as figuring out her attire was.

“I guess so.” He even spoke like a normal, polite young boy might and that made Aelyssan smile truly. She felt like that was her first real smile in ages. Something pure. She almost wanted to thank the boy for that, because it also offset some of her other worries.

“Is this dress too much for a simple dinner?”

For a few long seconds the boy only looked at her face, a bit confused. But then he slowly turned his gaze down and Aelyssan almost laughed as a rosey color covered his cheeks. “It’s not so bad. I’m probably not someone you should regard highly in his opinion though.”

Aelyssan frowned. “Why not?”

“Just...” the young boys nose crinkled and he looked away from her, back toward the long window he’d been staring out. “I don’t know much about dresses.”

She knew it was a lie, or some kind of cover for something else, but she also barely knew him. Despite her curiosity, she didn’t push. “I don’t know much about dresses, either. Hence this.” He peaked at her just barely as she waved her hand toward herself. “But thank you, Lucerys, you have calmed some of my nerves.”

That tint in his cheeks only deepened. “I’m glad I could... help, then.”

“So,” Aelyssan stepped to the window beside the one the boy had claimed. “What are you doing here? Alone?” She knew she needed to continue on to dinner, but she didn’t want to leave him. He had a sweet, soft aura that she hadn’t found within King’s Landing. She wanted to soak in it, especially since he was actually calming her.

“Family stuff.” He shrugged and again refused to look at her.

“Family...” She again thought about how she’d heard his name, Lucerys, somewhere before. Or something like it. But a name like that was rooted in traditions much the same as her own, and she could’ve heard even the same syllables and been lost in how many people could have it. Yet. “Lucerys Velaryon?”

He frowned and continued to stare away, back out the window. He clearly hadn’t wanted her to figure it out. “Yes.”

Before Aelyssan could say more, even though she wasn’t sure what she’d say, another boy, taller, with less shaggy brown hair stepped around the hall at the opposite end. He looked exasperated and annoyed. When he saw Lucerys, he threw one arm up. “Luke!” he called.

Then his eyes snagged on Aelyssan. She wasn’t sure what Aemond would think, or say, about her meeting two of his nephews. She wasn’t sure what he’d say about just the one, so she bowed her head slightly to Lucerys.

Aelyssan touched his arm lightly and smiled unabashedly. He was a cute boy, a nice one. She really did hope that whoever was favored tomorrow, it would be him. “Good luck, Lucerys,” she told him. He looked like he might cry at just those small words.

The older boy, who looked so much like him except more regal, refined, more Targaryen apparently, was advancing on them. She bowed her head again to Lucerys, who she realized she could recall Aemond calling Luke, and moved toward the side. She stepped around the older boy, far enough that she could at least pretend she didn’t hear him if he tried to talk to her, but he didn’t. She felt the older of the two might’ve stared after her as she went, but she refused to look back.

—

Aemond

The prince frowned oddly at the empty corridor.

Inside the small dining hall his family waited. He hadn’t even peaked his head in yet, not wanting them to think that Aelyssan wouldn’t come. He supposed he should’ve went to her and brought her down, but he’d been running back and forth from his mother and training all day trying to keep his annoyance with his family to a minimum to prepare for this dinner. To prepare himself to try and be on his best behavior for Aelyssan.

All would be for naught if she didn’t show.

He began to grumble incoherent High Valyrian under his breath when she rounded the edge of the hall. The gown she bore was so deeply black it almost shined unfathomably. It was cut into a rectangle on the top, and there were no sleeves. The longer he looked at it, the more the fabric seemed so delicately threaded someone less wise than him might’ve said it had been made by spiders.

“Where did you find that?” Aemond breathed, unable to help himself. Her stark and glowing hair was braided back from her face and rounded over one shoulder. It shined even more than the dress. She looked the role of princess, of Targaryen, very well.

“I can manage to do some things alone.” She said it with a grin but her hands twitched in front of her. Aemond really should’ve walked her, not just because she was late, but because he hadn’t realized she’d be nervous. In truth, he hadn’t even thought about it.

He took her hands in his own. Her beauty was one that was haunting, one that you would approach cautiously because you know it will only suck you in and make you its prisoner.

He decided he was happy to go.

“You look astounding.” He spoke and kissed either of her hands, at her fingertips. The worries seem to melt off her at his touch.

“It’s not too much?”

“I think it’s perfect. You will certainly command attention.”

“Aemond, that’s n—“

He cut her off with a kiss, swiftly moving one hand to press her to him until he could feel her breathing and match it. He wanted to leave the dinner, go back to his rooms and have her. But he knew better. He knew how his grandsire would play it with his mother if he did just that, especially since he hadn’t been invited.

When he finally pulled himself away, Aelyssan was more relaxed. She was grabbing him at his sides and looked like she might pull him back into her. “Ready?” he asked, giving her a small smile that she matched with one of her own.

“Not really,” she admitted, though Aemond couldn’t tell if it was because of her nerves or if she simply didn’t want to attend. He understood either way.

“We can always walk out. Remember that.” He cautioned her quietly as the doors pulled back. She was within his reach, but Aemond let her go. She was her own person, her own amazing, staggeringly beautiful and almost sinister person, and he wanted everyone to notice that.

The first to look at her was his sister, Helaena. She was sitting between her elder twins and her youngest child, Maelor, was in her lap, puffy eyed. Aegon turned around just a moment after, and from the way his eyes bulged from his head, Aemond knew he hadn’t anticipated to ever see Aelyssan again. Their mother was last to turn and she wore a dim smile that didn’t fully take up her lips. Aemond clasped his hands behind him as he walked, regarding each of his family members with a nod of his head.

Aelyssan, despite all she might be feeling, held herself highly. She didn’t grab at her skirts or lower her eyes away despite everyone looking toward her, like Aemond had seen many actual court ladies do in the presence of even one of their family. All while trying to court for his hand.

Aelyssan, even if they never married, even if they never could, had his hand already. He didn’t need his mothers blessing, didn’t need his grandsires or the Kings. He didn’t even care if they forever looked down on him for what he supposed they’d consider his antics with her. Not as she strode toward the table like she belonged there with Aemond.

When they were both seated almost directly from Aegon and Helaena, with his mother the queen at the end between them all, Aemond spoke. “As you were, family.” He tapped at his glass which was already full with stark red liquid. Some form of wine. A glance toward Aelyssan’s revealed much the same.

She sat with her back oddly straight, and Aemond moved a hand to her lap, drawing circles and other meaningless shapes into her thigh. She squirmed a bit at first, before relaxing against his palm. Aemond smiled at her, for all his family to see.

His brother tipped his own glass toward them. “To Aemond and his striking paramour. I’m sorry, I never got your name that night.” The smile on his lips was both idiotic and a bit cunning.

“Aelyssan,” she answered without hesitation, without even a hint of shame at his words. Aemond supposed she never would feel shameful, since there were worse things to consider her. At least in his mother’s eyes.

Another bastard.

The stress of what would yet take place on the morrow shone on his mother’s face, especially as she looked toward Aelyssan. “Pretty name,” Aegon declared.

“You’re very pretty. Besides your name, I mean.” Helaena offered, even as Maelor hiccuped a cry in her lap.

Aelyssan smiled almost sweetly at his sister and the three children. “Thank you. You’re very pretty, too.”

“Helaena has always had a sweetness to her.” Their mother added, voice a bit low but steady. She was staring into her own glass.

“Much the same way that Aemond has always had a little prick.” Aemond leveled his gaze on his brother. He was already drunk, no doubt.

“Shut it, Aegon,” Alicent sighed. “The bird is under the center tray. We waited to eat for... both of you.” She turned to Aemond, then Aelyssan. Again, that little smile that wasn’t quite one pulled at her lips. “I hope everything is to your liking.”

Aelyssan seemed to consider her next words. “Would you have anything else to drink?”

“What?” Alicent blinked at her. “Do you not like red arbor wine?”

“I don’t drink wine,” she answered.

“I didn’t... we don’t have anything else prepared.” The queen seemed to look at each of her children, each of her grandchildren, looking for someone else to have an answer. She grew more tired in her appearance by the moment. “We don’t have anyone serving us, well, because...” Her voice died out quickly.

Aemond almost smiled, but restrained himself. “Because of my companions looks, or her status to me? I wonder.” He tapped along his cup before he stood. “I’ll go fetch a pitcher of water.” He held Aelyssan’s shoulder for a moment, a gesture his mother’s eyes snagged on. “If that’s alright with you.”

Aelyssan nodded curtly. Her eyes were stuck on Helaena’s twins, and Jaehaera smiled at her a bit. Aemond hadn’t expected Helaena to bring any of them. Aelyssan barely returned the smile.

When Aemond stepped for the door, his mother followed. She didn’t say anything and he almost asked her to turn back before she could.

He should’ve, he realized, when she started rambling as soon as they were through the doorway. “This is a foolish decision, Aemond, and I’ve never taken you for a fool before. You, out of all of them, out of everyone around us in this keep, I thought you had the most sense. The most reason.” Her voice was sharp and she practically spit each word at him, at his back. He didn’t turn to her.

“I’m off to get water, mother, I hope you feel better when I come back.”

She huffed and he could almost picture her throwing her arms up behind him. “Would you sire bastards on her as well? Round out this nonsense that way.”

He thought for a moment. Aemond hadn’t fully considered that, if they’d actually wed, if they’d have children. He wasn’t seeking for any of it, content as things were. Still not turning to his mother, he said, “I wouldn’t try to.”

His mother said nothing else, and Aemond continued on.

When he returned to the dinner, his mother was leaning against the wall, her wine in hand, eyes focused solely on Helaena who was brushing Maelor’s hair back from his face. Aegon was almost asleep in his chair. And Aelyssan, she was making hand gestures into the shadows. Something like a bird appeared on the wall behind the table. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys were both thoroughly entertained.

The rest of the dinner, if you could really call it that since only Aelyssan and Aemond seemed to eat, went by near silently. A few times Aegon would say something drunkenly or one of the children would cry and Aelyssan and Helaena would both try to comfort them. Alicent stayed mostly at the wall, though if Aemond looked toward her she flashed a pretending smile until he looked away.

Aemond was happy to return to his rooms with Aelyssan and to be done with the rest. He’d thought the night was quite a lot easier than he had first anticipated, and now he’d get to disrobe Aelyssan from the spectacle of a dress she was in and that sounded like the perfect end to the evening. He was hungry for it, and tried to kiss her just barely past the threshold to his rooms.

She placed a hand quickly on his chest, keeping him still, keeping his lips from hers. “What?” He felt impatient and needy. Two things he didn’t like to feel.

“Your mother seems to hate bastards.” Her eyes searched Aemond’s face, but he wasn’t sure why.

“What are you getting at?”

“Helaena’s twins. They look awfully like mixes of you and her. Not her and her husband.”

Aemond quickly pulled back from her touch. She didn’t drop her hand, didn’t even seem phased, like she’d anticipated his reaction. “And?”

“I’ll ask it plainly. Are they yours?”

“Would it matter?”

“It would certainly make you a spectacular hypocrite, wouldn’t it?”

“I would disagree.” He had to bite his tongue from saying more.

“I won’t push you, Aemond. Your affairs are your affairs.” She finally let her hand go back to her side. “But you should think more on condemning ones actions if you’ve made the same choices yourself.” She looked almost angry with him.

“Why do you care?” his voice came out harsher than he intended.

“Lucerys is a boy.”

“Luke.” He couldn’t help clenching his fists at his sides. “You’ve met them.” He’d seen Jace and Luke himself, far earlier in the day. They’d been at the training grounds.

“I’ve met him. In the hall, on my way to dinner.”

“So now you what? Have sympathy?”

Something flicked in her jaw. “I felt sympathy even before I met him.”

“Keep your sympathies to yourself.” Aemond regretted saying it even as the words were still escaping his lips. He opened his mouth to say more, maybe to apologize, he wasn’t sure. Some kind of cool anger was coiling around in his chest. He worried he’d say something that would make matters worse, and closed his mouth again.

“Very well, prince.” He could see rage simmering in her eyes, deep and unyielding, but she kept her voice calm, almost serene. Aemond wanted to reach for her, but his body wouldn’t move. “I’ll find somewhere else to sleep. You probably need your rest, considering what your family plans to achieve tomorrow, Aemond.”

He wanted to argue or grab her but his body and mouth did nothing, like his mind and heart were pulling in separate ways.

Aemond finally moved when the door to his rooms closed behind Aelyssan. He could hear her hurried steps in the hall, and the hiss of that gown against the floor. He grabbed the knob to his rooms. But he didn’t open the door.

Aemond stood there for what felt like hours.

Translations:

Green look[s] good on you

Prince

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Daenerys Targaryen by Clark Ocleasa

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore, Prince -Twelve

Aelyssan

She had never felt much like a... princess.

Whether it was her right or her blood, she’d never felt it. Her mother had never overtly spoilt her children, or tried to get others to do so. Aelyssan supposed her elder brothers had been the only ones to ever try to spoil her and treat her princess-like, until more siblings came along after her. She enjoyed her big, brazen family. She enjoyed that none of them looked identical and that each went about their life not fretting over their ties to each other. [Around 2000 words, continue below]

That was mostly why Aelyssan didn’t understand Aemond’s relationships to, well, any of his family. As they dressed, she was stuck thinking about it again.

They would be back in Kings Landing within a few hours. They would’ve arrived yesterday, had Aemond deigned to continue to travel. She almost worried he was regretting his choice to bring her back with him, to present her to his family and not look for permission but instead forgiveness. Yet the way he’d ravished her last night had swept those worries eagerly away.

Aemond’s hands came to either of her shoulders, pressing gently into her skin. He set his chin in the crook of her neck and she could feel his breath fan over her jaw. He was oddly cool again, even though the heat in the woods was almost excruciating. A strange storm was building and practically pulsing. They’d be lucky to avoid it.

“Ñuha dārilaros,” she cautioned him, though even she felt a bit playful. He had barely let her have him last night and that had left her particularly needy, even though she was also drained in her own right. “Tie the back?” she asked lightly.

Aemond kissed her neck and she thought he might argue and she wouldn’t particularly care to stop him if he did and yet. Yet. He drew back from her and did as she asked, tying the back of her shirt as she asked. He’d been like that a lot as they travelled, doing things for her. He’d even been helping her salve and set her ankle, which was finally, finally healing completely. She could walk on it without limping or wincing, but Aemond was still cautious.

“Are you prepared for today?” It sounded more like a command than question to Aelyssan. As he asked it, he finished the threads of her shirt. It was a dark grey that he’d remarked offset her eyes well when she’d first worn it about a week ago. She had nothing to wear that was princess-y, and she didn’t feel like wearing it anyway. His family wouldn’t like her so much as they would have to accept her, so she didn’t need to play any particular part.

“Iksan,” she answered in High Valyrian and turned to Aemond.

He kissed her with no hesitation. Just like he had all these weeks traveling, no matter who was near them, who was watching, Aemond didn’t pull back from her. Aelyssan relished it and his taste and the way he’d grip her jaw when he wanted her to let his tongue explore her mouth.

She tugged his lip before he had a chance to do the same to her and pulled back, smiling. Aemond’s own lips twitched upward, like he was about to be a hunter after prey. She loved this game with him, where he wanted to be in charge but he also wanted her to take and do as she pleased. It left them both always wanting plenty more.

It was exhilarating. Aemond. Everything.

“Emi naejot jikagon,” she tried to tell him.

Aemond didn’t care. “Aderī,” he said, a light, half-hearted promise. Aelyssan was against the rough bark of a towering tree before she could open her mouth to argue. One of Aemond’s hands hooked under her, hoisting her up and forcing her to wrap around his waist.

She laughed into his next kiss. She wouldn’t tell him no, she wanted this moment too, probably more than he did. This egregious bit of bliss before the true tests and storm to come.

Every moment was worth it. Earned.

She hoped, stupidly, there were plenty more to come.

—

Aelyssan had a cloak of black feathers on when they passed through the gates of the Red Keep.

Her memories here were fond and not. Part of her wanted to turn her brown mare and leave. The other part that seemed tethered to Aemond and was pulling after him constantly tugged her forward. He rode at the front, alongside his knight and Lord Larys Strong.

Aelyssan, with her feathered hood up, had told him she didn’t want to accompany him so boldly in the city. Not until they’d already beseeched his family. She was far from ashamed of herself and far from a coward, but still. She had been polite to the queen before. She hoped that, and this, would earn her back a few points she was sure to lose.

Aemond had given her the cloak. He’d called it one of his favorites, because the feather’s gleamed so well that they looked more reflective than like feathers themselves. She had wondered at it for awhile before he’d clipped it around her neck. He said she could borrow it, and only keep it if she paid her dues. She was well aware of what that meant, and she was looking forward to it.

So long as she survived the rest.

Aemond waited for her at one of the keeps numerous entrances. She had left her mare in its stable herself. She’d grown quite fond of it, and Aemond had paid the man who rode it to find her handsomely in order to let her have it. It still needed a name but she couldn’t focus on that.

Not as she saw him and she pushed her hood down. She tried to smile, even as she saw Criston Cole at his side. The knight looked perpetually aggressive, probably because Aemond continued to defy and piss him off. Like now, she was sure, as Aemond held his hand toward her.

She took it too eagerly for Ser Criston’s liking. She could tell he barely kept his scoff in as he turned from her and the prince.

Aemond leaned to her ear as they began to walk. “Issi ao paktot nūmāzma bisa?” Criston almost lost a step, but regained composure completely. He hadn’t expected them to speak in another language, apparently.

“Īles aōha kȳvanon,” Aelyssan offered back.

“Iksan sure nūmāzma ziry.”

“Sȳz.”

“Sȳz,” Aemond said the same with a smile. He sounded oddly amused. Why was she nervous and him not? It didn’t make any sense. Maybe because the roles were reversed the last time she’d had an audience with his mother and grandsire. She wondered about it dully as they walked, their hands entwined.

A few servants looked at them and then sharply turned away. None seemed to eager to get Aemond’s attention if they looked on too long. And none of them spoke, either.

Aelyssan felt her mind drift back to the girl she’d met her first day in the Red Keep. The girl who’d followed her into the Riverlands, whose blood had splattered across her face because she had felt some sort of sick sympathy toward Aelyssan. Or at least, that’s how Larys had viewed it. That was the supposed heinous crime he’d murdered her for.

Aelyssan didn’t noticed how harshly she was clinging to Aemond’s hand until he tugged on her. “Vaoreznuni,” she ground out. Aemond shrugged but still stared at her. She had to turn away.

“My Prince,” Criston spoke ahead of them, one hand outstretched to knock on a large door.

Aelyssan held her breath. She didn’t let it loose even as a woman called for them to enter or even as they stepped through. She didn’t breathe until Aemond dropped her hand and walked a bit ahead of her, to embrace his mother.

The queen looked regal and worried, but smiled wondrously as she embraced her son. Then Aelyssan let her breath escape her.

Soft and fast words were expressed between Aemond and Alicent. The queen, for her part, tried to appear cordial, understanding. She didn’t let a single piece of her ruffle at whatever Aemond said, not even when he motioned to Aelyssan, beckoning her forward.

She went even though she didn’t particularly want to. “Your Grace.”

“Please,” Alicent spoke and clasped her hands together. The smile she donned then looked a bit misplaced, more fit for a portrait of a monarch than a monarch themself. “We should be past that, since Aemond seems so inclined to have you around. Call me Alicent.”

“Alicent,” Aelyssan corrected herself. Her name felt entirely gross on her tongue.

“Mother,” Aemond cautioned at the same time.

“I know the Valyrian genes are strong, Aelyssan, but you are as bright as a true-born.” Aelyssan almost winced. She knew Aemond had to get his... prejudices somewhere, and his mother wasn’t apt at hiding her own. Hers were even sharper. “Do you know who your father is?”

Aemond had warned her this would come up. She was prepared. She could be polite. “A long-time friend of my mother. A good man.” Her words were honest enough, for the queen. Long-time friend did sound better than patron after all. And he was a good man.

“And he fathered one of the boys that everyone met at the Great Council, Aemond says?” She asked like she didn’t believe her son.

“Yes.”

“What was his name? Could you remind me. I was so young then.”

“Arrion.”

The queen hummed and looked back to Aemond. “This is what you want. You cannot marry her, Aemond, and you will have to marry eventually.”

She and Aemond had discussed that, too. Still, something pained in her stomach like the very thought would drive her to sickness. She ignored it and studied the wall, the tapestries in the queen’s rooms. Most things were decorative of the Church of Seven.

“Yes,” Aemond answered plainly.

Alicent grabbed his by either arm and sighed. She looked too young and too fragile then, to Aelyssan, to be a mother and a queen. One wrong move and it seemed she’d topple over and become nothing at all. “Protect yourself, Aemond, promise me.”

Aelyssan’s brows drew together. Protect him from what? Her?

“You have my word,” he answered, and Aelyssan could hear his honesty, his determination in those binding words to his mother.

Again, the queen looked at her. Less scathingly, but still harsh enough Aelyssan wanted to turn away. “Even if I support you, there are a many more that will not. Be cautious. Do you understand?”

She sounded oddly like she actually cared, actually worried for Aelyssan. Aelyssan knew it was only because any harm that might come to her Aemond might feel personally. “Of course.” She bowed her head to the queen, even though it felt discomforting.

“Mother,” Aemond said again and leaned forward to kiss either of her cheeks. She looked like she might not let him go, afraid of what could possibly await him even outside her chamber doors. Still, Aemond pulled free and without letting Aelyssan even murmur a goodbye to his mother, pulled her toward and through the door. Some new kings-guard knight was waiting outside, and he must’ve been the one actually assigned to Aemond, because he followed them only a few steps behind as they walked from the queen’s chambers.

Aelyssan watched as Ser Criston Cole disappeared through the queen’s threshold. She wondered if Aemond pretended he couldn’t hear the queen curse and shout something at Criston. He only peered down at her, his face glowing almost triumphantly.

She felt like she was forever falling around and into Aemond.

The prince smiled, arrogant and pleased, and Aelyssan smiled back even as something whispered a warning within her.

Translations:

My prince

I am

We have to go

Soon

Are you sure about this [Are you right about this]

It was your plan

I’m sure about it

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermove, Prince -Eleven

Aemond

He had never been in such haunting bliss before.

That’s how he finalized his doom, Aemond was sure. Letting himself have Aelyssan, letting her have him. Even if they’d kept some of their words and truer feelings to themselves, within themselves, they’d had enough of each other to know they were eternally, completely doomed. Fucked, more likely. Nothing would be the same for Aemond, definitely never with another woman. [Around 2000 words, continue below]

They’d sat in that clear pool of shining blue water for hours, Aemond on one side and Aelyssan on the other. When she looked at him, she’d laugh but he could hear it wasn’t actually in an amused way, it was more that she was blissful. If not also a bit confused.

He’d sent her away and then told her he didn’t want her gone.

Aemond owed her true words of an apology but he knew he’d never been good with them. He wouldn’t begin to know what to really say or how he could convey that bitter part of himself without making her want to leave regardless. So they’d sat in silence, and he’d even managed to get the majority of that black, sludge like water from himself. Since they’d had no soap, he still felt a bit grimy when he’d gotten out and dried.

Aelyssan got out before him and he almost jumped out after her, to take her on the small shore or against a tree, it didn’t matter. He’d only contained himself because she’d mumbled something about getting dressed and checking on the horse she’d left before the path. Aemond needed to dry and dress himself, even though he could easily call his horse back. The thing was eating muddy grass off to the right of the water.

Still, he stayed in the pool until she returned. Her hair thickened and curled when it was wet, another sign of some lineage that wasn’t Targaryen. Aemond wanted to desperately to ask, but his chest felt hollow and he was certain he wouldn’t be able to find his voice.

In the inky black of night, Aelyssan still shone like a star in his vision.

The color of her hair and brightness of her cheeks, her face, didn’t dim even while she was wet. Aemond would never get enough of simply looking at her, in every setting.

“What?” she asked as Aemond dragged himself closer to her while still in the pools.

“You are divine.”

She didn’t turn from him, didn’t blush. She knew her beauty, her power and it was another thing that made Aemond want to pull her face down to his and set their lips together again. He didn’t just want to take her again, he needed to. He opened his mouth to ask, to beg—

“Are you ready to go back?”

Go back? He hadn’t even thought about it. He certainly didn’t want to. Seeing Criston and Larys’s ugly faces after coupling with Aelyssan would be like a kick to the gut. Especially if she were going to leave again. He hadn’t even taken the time to ask what had happened, before he’d come back out of that wyrm-infested river, before he’d seen her and his only thought was to take her and run away from everything else.

“I’d rather not,” he tried to speak lightly. She only rolled her eyes, no humor in her face. “How long do you think we could stay hidden here?” He tried again.

One corner of her lips raised. “Not long, Aemond.” Aemond. He loved her saying his name. He loved saying hers.

“We could try.”

“No, we can’t.” She spoke like there was no room for any argument, so Aemond relented. She had let him do as he pleased, once. He could return the favor now, only a bit.

When he stepped out of the water, she looked away from him. He wasn’t slighted, he was sure she was just as hungry for him as he still was for her, but she seemed to be struggling with other things on her mind and he would let her have time. If he couldn’t form the apology, he could try to act on it.

Aemond hated putting his clothes back on, mostly because they were still soaked in that disgusting river water. He thought about washing them, but with nothing to even sit on while they dried, he decided against it. He whistled to his horse once he was clothed.

Aelyssan started back to the path, and Aemond followed suit, one hand resting on the horses neck. He’d need to insist someone bathe the poor house as soon as possible too.

Aelyssan looked back at him only when she reached her own horse, which she thanked and congratulated for fully listening to her and waiting. The dirty brown thing only stomped its hooves into the ground, like it could really, completely understand her. When she saw Aemond walking alongside his, that’s what she decided to do with hers.

Once the trek back created more room, Aemond moved a bit faster, just enough that he could move to step in sync at her side. His horse let out a low grunt and pulled back from Aemond’s touch for a moment before it re-centered and calmed again.

He thought about finishing the walk in the dead of night in silence. But he had so much to say, he’d thought about everything plenty in the last month without her. “There’s going to be a... trial of a sorts,” he said without thinking it completely threw. He was still in a bit of a haze from getting to fuck her, apparently.

“What?” Aelyssan looked at him with a pointed frown, like she was wondering if he was declaring she would have a trial.

“For my nephew, Lucerys.” He tried not to sound indignant even as that phantom pain tugged in his forever missing eye. “His grandsire is apparently going to die, and his brother, Vaemond, wants to be named as his heir.”

“What about his children?”

“Dead. Lucerys is my...” He fought for the right words to use around Aelyssan. As... what she was, only having one full sibling, he was sure she wouldn’t refer to the others as half. But Aemond always had. “Lucerys is Laenor and Rhaenyra’s second son, technically in line for the throne but since he has an older brother, not the direct heir. It was presumed Driftmark would go to him once his father and grandsire died.”

“So why is Vaemond asking to be named heir?” She looked genuinely perplexed. Aemond almost laughed at her naivety. But she was a bastard herself, albeit in a mostly different way.

“He doesn’t believe Lucerys is Laenor’s son. Or any of them, for that matter.” Aemond shrugged.

Aelyssan’s grip on her own horses neck seemed to shift as her knuckled flexed for a moment. “He would call them bastards without doing so then, and your mother would simply, what? Feed into the delusion?”

Aemond needed to bite his own tongue, he knew it, and still. “If you had met or seen Jace, Luke and Joffrey,” he tried, but she rolled her eyes.

“Is that all you people care about?” Her tone was rough. “Blood isn’t what makes a good man.”

Aemond did laugh then, just a bit. “I suppose... I have to agree you’re right.” He had met his own brother, Aegon, after all. “But that’s a tougher call to rely on when you’re royalty, isn’t it?”

“How would I know?” she looked away from him. “I was raised in Volantis. Somewhere my name and possible titles and my parentage didn’t dictate much, if anything at all. After this time here, I think I much prefer it that way.”

Aemond wanted to yell. This had gone the way opposite he’d wanted it to. He sighed and tried again, “I want to ask you to accompany me back to the Red Keep. Forgo what my mother and grandsire insist upon, it doesn’t matter. Even if they want to argue against it, they’ll be preoccupied for long enough I can probably...” his voice trailed off. He wanted to say, he could probably talk to his father, the King. But he’d never gone to Viserys in that capacity before. He wasn’t... entirely sure he could handle it. But for Aelyssan...

“You would have me be your whore?” she asked, and he swore he heard a bit of amusement in her tone.

“Not entirely.”

“So you wouldn’t call me that. But that’s how everyone would see it.”

“I would have you be with me, near me, Aelyssan. I would have us be together.” He moved to grasp her free hand with his own, and she looked back at him. Her face almost appeared like she might back away, might run from him entirely. “I would have us be together,” he repeated, “and say screw you to the rest of them that would have otherwise.”

“My home is still in Volantis, Aemond, my dragon is.”

“I’m not saying you could never go back. You can go back and forth as you please, at your own whim, even when I piss you off and you want to hurt me, go.” He paused, worried he was saying too much, giving too much away. But he needed to say it all. “I just would like you to always return to me.”

Aelyssan smiled tauntingly. “So you admit if I left it would hurt you?”

He looked away from her scowled and dropped her hand. So he had revealed too much. “Yes,” he admitted, even as made some bit in his chest sting.

“I suppose I can stay, under one condition.” Aemond turned back to her a bit wearily. “I will not be hidden, Aemond. That’s a far strange thing you lot do in Westeros that I won’t be apart of. If you would hide me, I would simply go home.”

“Alright, I won’t hide you,” he agreed quickly. Aelyssan seemed amused by that as well.

“You’re well aware I’m still pissed with you, though?”

“For what?”

She smacked his chest. “You paid me to leave.”

“But you didn’t?” He scrunched his brows and she rolled her eyes again. “I will make it up to you.” As he spoke he grabbed her hand anew and brought it to his lips, kissing over her knuckles a few times. “I swear it.”

She hummed and remained quiet for a bit. “When is that... trial?”

“Soon. We can head back as soon as I have a change of clothes and our horses rest. Larys and Criston will probably follow us closely, though.” He was already dreading it. Even dreading returning and dealing with his mother and grandsire, though he wouldn’t shy from it, not when it came to Aelyssan.

“Alright,” she answered.

They continued the rest of the way in silence. Aemond became a bit trapped in his thoughts, wondering what would happen when they returned. Wondering how Criston was going to react when Aemond decisively dismissed him and potentially laughed in his face. He would face it all eagerly, he supposed. He had little other options.

Aemond had never imagined or pictured his life, not much. He didn’t have a lot to look forward to, and it felt like even less when he considered war was a likely part to come soon. Yet with Aelyssan, he felt there was a future less brutal, less taxing. He wanted to strive to reach it which was something entirely foreign and uncomfortable to him to begin with.

He had never imagined her, it wouldn’t have been possible. Yet he was thankful she’d been in the dragon pit and had caused him wild, new feelings and a headache one after another. So they walked and he thought and he supposed, a future with Aelyssan in any capacity couldn’t be so bad. Whether he could get his family to see it so was beyond his imagination.

Aemond Targaryen couldn’t have predicted what was to come.

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Fresh out of the oven this one! Team Rhaenyra or Team Alicent?...... Or team sapphics.....

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore, Prince is now on Archive of Our Own!

Click here.

Couple things to note now:

This blog will continue to upload until somewhere between chapters 15-20.

This blog will continue to upload content based on this series AND its original characters even after chapters 15-20.

This blog, after chapters 15-20, will move into more Targaryen/HOTD/etc territory and other works, one-shots, imagines, etc will be posted.

Thank you for all the support so far. Please send asks/etc if you want to see anything in particular, regarding this series or something else! -Fla

Forevermore, Prince -Masterlist

In case you don’t want to scroll, or simply want to have everything handed to you on a silver platter.

I’ll reblog this as it updates, about every 5 chapters or so, and try to keep it near the top of my page regardless. You can always find all the bits and pieces here: FLA Forevermore, Prince.

Thank you for any and all support! Enjoy your reading and yes, it’s going to get hot. -Fla

Prologue One Two Three Four Five

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Forevermore, Prince -Masterlist

In case you don’t want to scroll, or simply want to have everything handed to you on a silver platter.

I’ll reblog this as it updates, about every 5 chapters or so, and try to keep it near the top of my page regardless. You can always find all the bits and pieces here: FLA Forevermore, Prince.

Thank you for any and all support! Enjoy your reading and yes, it’s going to get hot. -Fla

Prologue One Two Three Four Five

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore Prine -Ten

Aelyssan

Aelyssan rode silently behind Aemond.

She wasn’t entirely keeping track of where they went or how much time was passing. The sky was already dim and the black, smudgy water was drying into Aemond’s hair and clothes. Even the horse beneath him was a bit dyed from where he sat and touched it. A/N: cw for nsfw ! [Around 3100 words, continue below]

Neither of them had said anything yet. Even as the path turned from sopping ground to mostly rocks and their horses whined beneath them, neither Aelyssan or Aemond spoke. She wasn’t sure if it was because he needed the silence to dim that bit of wild flame in his eyes she’d seen when he dragged her toward the horse, or if they were simply contented with the silence and each other’s presence.

She shifted uncomfortably on her horses bare back. Aemond already had his trotting down a path thickened with bushes filled with berries and thorns. Aelyssane’s horse sidestepped a bit of thorns that poked through, farther than the rest, but then refused to continue the rest of the path with her on its back.

Despite her whining ankle, Aelyssan slid off the back of her borrowed horse. She pat its neck gently. “Please don’t go anywhere,” she whispered and spread her fingers across its broad, brown neck for another moment. Aemond was already disappearing down the path, bit by bit. His horse was unsteady on its feet.

Aelyssan started down quickly despite her limp. The bushes bit into her clothes. She couldn’t imagine forcing a horse through, despite how steadily Aemond was doing so ahead of her. She thought of calling to him, asking him to slow or get off the horse completely, but decided against it. They were coming to a drop, where she was sure there’d be another lake or a simple cliff.

She realized she was right about the water when she heard it rush. Aemond was already ahead of it, still aloft on the horse he’d taken, but unmoving. He didn’t turn to her even when she was sure he could hear her heavy and hurting steps. Her limp had worsened a bit down the path, mostly due to the sometimes jutting rocks that pushed harshly into her heel.

She was almost a toes-breath from the water before Aemond got off his horse. His hair was an oddly tinted white-blonde and was completely limp though it had finished drying. He let the horse teeter off from him and bent down to the water, still without looking at her.

Aelyssan decided almost begrudgingly that she would speak first.

“Ao ossēntan iā mosnter, dārilaros.” Her tone with thick but she didn’t want to consider why. She also didn’t want to consider why her stomach turned spurned and molten as she stared into the side of his face. Despite the grime, was still breathtaking. It felt like years since she’d last seen him, or maybe he had just dazzled her that much in the last few hours.

“Kostilus daor se paktot mēre.” His tone was gruff and small, something so unlike him she was almost taken aback. “Issi jeme-paktot?”

She didn’t like his asking and didn’t want to answer. She still wanted to scream at him. She sat there silently, trying to make her mind up, when Aemond moved his hands from the water and to the patch that covered his eye. He lifted it up and off and then pushed the patch below the surface of the water ahead of them.

It was prettier than the water still coating his skin. It still wasn’t as clear as some of the pools at her home, but she didn’t really care, not as Aemond finally turned to her. He’d placed a jewel into the socket where an eye had once been. It gleamed blue and she knew instantly it was a sapphire, one cut crudely. It wasn’t exactly the shape an eye would’ve been, not that it seemed to matter. Aemond’s scar was jagged and even just looking at it made her own eye hurt, as if it were her own.

She wanted to reach toward it, toward him, but held herself firm. “Kessa,” she answered finally, even as Aemond stared at her.

She wondered why he’d chosen now to showcase that scar fully to her. Or if it was simply coincidence, because he was also cleaning the patch that indeed bled black water into the blue the longer Aemond held it under. She supposed that grotesque water of the river he’d killed the creature in probably wasn’t good for his scar.

“Konīr's ānogar va aōha laehurlion.”

She’d almost forgotten about that. “Daor ñuhon.” It had dried long ago. She raised a hand to try and rub it off, but Aemond beat her with a wet hand. His hands felt almost like ice against her burning skin. He traced her jaw, even her bottom lip though she was sure there wasn’t blood there.

“Kesan daor emagon jittan ao qrīdrughagon.”

Aelyssan almost laughed as he spoke, his hand becoming rigid against her face. “Ao addemmagon naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon.”

“Ao gōntan daor jikagon.”

“No I didn’t,” Aelyssan spoke the common tongue and moved back a bit, enough that she could pull her face free from Aemond. His hand stayed suspended in the air for another moment, as if he didn’t notice she pulled away.

“Why not?” he asked and turned back to the water. He pulled his eye patch free and rang it out once and twice. He seemed to study it in his palms before settling it in the rocks and grass a small space back from the pool of gleaming blue water.

Another question she didn’t like him asking and didn’t want to answer. “Why did you come with Larys and that kings-guard?” she countered.

Aemond’s lip curved like he would laugh, but he didn’t. “Isn’t that pretty obvious?” He moved to sit fully on the ground. Aelyssan just watched as he began to take his boots off, then his jacket, then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“What’re are you doing?” She tried not to watch as more of Aemond’s skin became visible. Just the normal view of him she’d become accustomed to was enough to haunt her. All of him, she couldn’t imagine what might happen.

“I’m going to bathe.” He jerked his chin toward the water. “Looks good enough to me.” He slipped his still sodden jacket and shirt off.

Aemond was built well and Aelyssan had assumed so, but she hadn’t seen it till now. Even the ghastly water that had left some sort of layer of grime on him wasn’t enough to dim him at all. She wanted desperately to touch him, even if he was going to taste as disgusting and bitter as that water had looked. Even if he was going to push her away again after.

The expression on his face seemed to tell her he knew exactly what she was thinking. “You can always join me.” He stood again, undoing the top of his pants. Aelyssan barely had a moment to turn from him before he was completely naked before her.

She stared the opposite direction, even looked into the sky and clouds for good measure. She could feel her heart beating heavily, haphazardly, in each inch of her body.

She heard Aemond as he moved into the water. He seemed to go slow, casual. Then the was a large ripple, and a bit of water slammed into her lap and stomach. It was warm or she was too hot to notice if it wasn’t, she couldn’t be sure.

“Aelyssan,” he said once, sweetly. Like all these long weeks had been nothing. She wanted them to be nothing. She wanted to fall into that water and into Aemond and even pretend they were back in the keep, back in the hall and nothing had interrupted them or ruined the small, fake sanctuary she’d built between them.

“Is this your form of a distraction?” she asked, even as she still stared into the horizon. The sun was sinking back away from her and him and what might happen.

Aemond waded toward her. She could feel his presence close to her legs, and more water jumped onto her because of his movements. She wanted so badly to turn to the prince at her feet and forget how angry he’d made her. “Is that so bad?”

She said nothing and moved to pull her legs back, farther from him. She thought she might even stand and go back to where she’d left her horse. Aemond seemed to sense this and grabbed her uninjured ankle with one hand, casually sliding his fingers all around. The warm water chilled as it dripped through her clothes and into her skin. “Aelyssan,” he started, “look at me.”

She shouldn’t have, she knew, but she did. She knew as soon as she saw Aemond that he would never be as devastatingly handsome as he was then. He must’ve fully submerged himself before coming to her, because his hair was slick and pushed back from his face. Both his eye and his jewel gleamed beautifully as she stared into his face. All of his skin was wet and almost taunting her to touch it, him, and join him.

“Join me,” he spoke like he could really hear her thoughts and feel her pleading heart.

He gingerly let go of her ankle and pushed farther back into and under the water, until all Aelyssan could clearly see was his face. She felt everything, her breath, her heart, her blood hitch in her throat. She had never entirely been the fool before, especially not before Aemond.

Now, now, that’s all she was and she was sure of it.

It was all she really felt, really understood, as she stood and stripped out of her clothes. Aemond stared at her intently as the sun completely sank behind his back. When she was bare to him and the moon, Aelyssan let herself breathe.

Aemond looked like he couldn’t get enough of simply staring at her. He was entirely still in the water, even as she stepped in. It was colder against just her skin and she shivered. That was enough to make him move. Just as her shoulders barely touched the water, Aemond was upon her.

She had missed his mouth, his darker taste, the way he never failed to fully and completely take hold of her. Aemond was a hungry lover, a demanding one. Almost as quickly as they kissed, he pushed his tongue into her mouth. The water, surprisingly, felt almost leaden against her exposed skin, even as Aemond brought herself fully against him.

He was already hard and pressed against her thigh and she didn’t want to act like this was anything other than it was and she didn’t want to pretend they needed to do more than just fuck—

Aemond slowed, he pulled his head back enough and tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth as he did. “Aelyssan.” Her name sounded best from his lips. She wanted him to say it again, but she was also picturing other things he could do with his mouth that she’d find much more satisfying and—

“Aelyssan,” he repeated, more commanding. He’d moved one arm around her waist and the others hand was almost cradling her face. She tried to kiss him against and his grip on her tightened, forcing her to simply look at him. “I would hear you say you want me, this, first.”

Aelyssan let her hands travel over Aemond’s shoulders, one tangling in his hair and the other disappearing beneath the water. His breath caught for a moment when she grasped him firmly. She’d assumed someone as cocky as Aemond had to be well-endowed, but gods she was really going to enjoy the stretch. “I thought that was obvious?” she offered, relaying his own words from earlier toward him. They were easier, lighter, and she realized why Aemond had used them to begin with.

They were better than admitting the entire truth. They were the truth, a bit, but simpler, more shrouded. It kept apart of her that she wasn’t ready to bare, that she might never be ready to bare, to herself. She supposed they did the same for Aemond before she kissed him again.

This time she tugged his hair enough to slow him a bit, but Aemond was unsatisfied with that. The hand he had cupping her face he moved below the surface of the water and to her breasts, where he rolled one of her nipples, perking it and causing her to gasp into his mouth.

Aemond smiled against her lips, lifting her with the arm around her waist until she was completely straddling him under the water. She felt every intense bit of his heat pouring over and into her and it made her kiss him again and deeper. Aemond kissed her once without having their tongues fight and without biting her lip before he moved to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. All the while Aelyssan was fluttering back in his arms, exposing more of her chest to him. Her breasts just barely came out of the water but it was enough for Aemond to bring each to his mouth. He licked and bit one while he firmly massaged the other and then switched.

But again, Aemond was a hungry lover, almost ferociously. He pulled her lips back to his by her throat.

“Aelyssan,” he said into her mouth. He sounded breathless and almost pleading. She thought about asking him to beg, but she couldn’t. She knew what he wanted and she needed it too.

“Yes, Aemond.” She bit his lip this time, and his hand tightened around her throat and she tasted ecstasy in with her small bit of air. She felt herself burning enough that she might actually become a living, vibrant flame.

Aemond refused to kiss her again, he wanted her to watch him and Aelyssan knew and she, again, wanted it too.

“Dārilaros,” she said barely over his grasp at her throat. That was enough.

Aemond used the hand around her back to position her and himself. Her chest was flush against his and she could feel his breathing and nothing have ever felt so final like this. Nothing had ever been so hot and consuming. “You are divine,” Aemond said, with a last bit of finality, and drove himself deep into her.

Aelyssan would’ve cried out had it not been for his fingers around her throat, keeping her centered where he wanted as he pushed into her throbbing core, bit by bit. He groaned in a way that sounded far more like a triumphant cry out, but Aelyssan could barely hear or just wasn’t paying attention. She could only focus on where he met her, and how good it did feel. She was right about the stretch.

He released her throat once he was finally, completely inside her. She thought he might kiss her again, but instead Aemond attached his lips, his teeth into her neck. He moved both his hands to her hips, pulling her down as he pushed up. Aelyssan tangled one of her hands completely into his hair and threw her head back over the bit of ecstasy, the bit of pain, the excitement of it all.

Aemond didn’t waste any time. He pushed her up and pulled her back down onto him, letting her body meet him for each thrust. He left bites along her neck and shoulder and whispered words in High Valyrian that she couldn’t hear. Sometimes she heard her name, sometimes she simply heard him gasp out fuck.

He moved one of his hands again to her breast and let his fingers roll over her nipple. He pinched harshly, once, as he thrust into her and Aelyssan whined, tugging at his hair to get his attention before he could move his lips to it again. She pulled Aemond to her for once, and forced him to meet her lips. He groaned into the kiss and she moved her hand from his hair to his chin, holding him there in the kiss. It drove Aemond a bit crazy, he bit her lip harsh enough that she would bleed.

She only smiled with blood pouring in her mouth, even as Aemond stared at her, his cock completely within her to the point she was sore and exhilarated at once. He moved both his hands around her again and this time Aelyssan helped him, pushing up using his shoulders and then letting herself practically fall back down and onto him.

He groaned again, this time with the first bit of her name, and it was the best sound she’d ever heard.

“Aelyssan,” he spoke between ragged breaths, between his gaze drifting to her bouncing breasts beneath the water or her lips that opened as she whined for him or her eyes which she’d scrunched closed while she threw herself against and onto him. She had never felt sex that was so consuming.

His nails dug into either of her sides. “Aelyssan,” he repeated again, more heavy.

She was going to cum and she had barely scratched the surface of what she wanted to do with Aemond. What she wanted him to do to her. She tried to speak, tried to ask him not to say her name again, but he slammed into her with such a force that she was sure it meant a calamity was coming and she was entirely, irrevocably done.

She stared at the stars, imagined and real, as she came and heaving breaths tore threw her. “Aemond,” she said, shaking a bit, her blue-grey still toward the sky.

Aemond was still sheathing himself inside her, with less ferocity, but enough force that she still had to grip him and she was still gasping, whining. She pulled herself back into him, kissing his neck once and then biting it the way he’d done to her and that was enough for Aemond.

He barely pulled his cock free from her before he came. He kept his hands on her hips, and rested his head against her shoulder, the same way she rested hers against his. He was barely breathing and Aelyssan would’ve wondered why if she could think at all.

She moved a hand from Aemond’s shoulders and pushed his head up by his chin, forcing him to look at her now, and then she kissed him.

Aemond was not hers and she was not Aemond’s, and she knew that, but she had had him, and she would have him again.

Translations:

You killed a monster, prince

Perhaps not the right one

Are you alright

Yes

There’s blood on your face

Not mine

I will not have you sent away

You paid to send me away

You didn’t go [You did not go]

Prince

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Prophecies are simply lies spoken by old cowards as they lie awake at night, weeping that they were not born as gods.

What I put in my first draft at 3 AM (via bubblytarts)

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Forevermore, Prince -Nine

Aemond

Aemond struggled to cut through the brush surrounding the open river with just his dagger.

He cursed himself. He shouldn’t have rode horseback, he should’ve been upon Vhagar. He’d have had an easier time spotting Aelyssan from the skies. And an easier time cutting through all this damned overgrown grass with his sword. Just another reason horseback was worse. Riding horseback with a large sword on your hip was like asking for a giant, red welt on your thigh. [Around 2100 words, continue below]

He should’ve dealt with it, with any welt it might’ve mustered. He should have had his sword or even just a bigger dagger, one with a more honed blade.

The damned spy had watched Aelyssan travel toward the river but had been afraid of getting too close herself. The town had its own superstitions about a giant serpent without wings living within its waters. Aemond had listened to the girls fears with a barely diluted groan. The girl was little more than fool masquerading as a spy in Larys’s court. She was barely worth the justice he was still planning to dole unto her.

He didn’t fear Aelyssan had drowned, he wasn’t sure what he feared, his chest was just caving and burning and he needed desperately to get to her.

He’d abandoned Criston at the inn, even though the knight had tried to mount and chase the prince. Before Criston could even get both his legs on and over his horse, Aemond was a dissipating speck. Normally, Aemond would’ve been happy to see Ser Cole getting slower with age, he would’ve even laughed at him, but he was fighting down bile and panic and couldn’t focus on anything else.

Aemond thought all the seven gods and the minor gods might be toying with him. They’d made him a second son, taken his eye, married Helaena to Aegon, so on and so forth, so of course when he’d had a chance to glimpse the surface of the water he’d rested beneath his entire life, he was too late. Too deep within. Too lost in his ways, in the almost completely hollow pieces of himself to see a real future.

A future that didn’t have to rely solely on his family, on his titles, on his dragon or prowess with arms.

He was too quick to give in, too easily swayed away. He thought he’d been thinking of Aelyssan, of what was best for her, what was safest and yet now... Aemond recognized his selfishness. He was taking the easy way out by sending her away.

He realized that he wasn’t panicked because something might’ve happened to her, it was because he wouldn’t get to apologize to her. She’d shaken off the spy, she could be heading to Volantis now. Even if Aemond crossed the sea, even if he found the right place her mother owned, what were the chances Aelyssan might be there. What were the chances she wouldn’t have replaced him.

Aemond tried to shove those anxieties down. He focused more on his task, honing on the the overgrown foliage around him with the blade he kept cursing himself for bringing over something larger, something fiercer.

He understood why the people in the town had made a story of a monster residing in this river now. Close up, the water was muddied and looked thick like mud. Aemond barely toed the water and felt that one step in and he would be taken down, down, down to a depths inescapable. The entire river was neither blue or green or a mix, just some dirty shade all in-between. He wondered incredulously if something had died in its waters, polluting it forever. Cursing it as well.

This close to it, there was no movement beyond what Aemond made himself. It was as still as if a long winter was already upon them.

Aemond spotted Aelyssan nowhere, not near to him, not across to the other side of the lake.

He understood too late that the spy had lied and played him for a fool alongside the inn-keep woman. And that his mother had probably orchestrated it inadvertently. And, worse of it all, that Aelyssan was within Larys’s clutches currently, alone.

—

Aelyssan

She idly rubbed her ankle, even though it made her wince and whine.

Across from where she sat, one leg raised to give her an easier reach, Lord Larys Strong and his spy-girl were. Larys was seated, both hands folded over an intricate cane. The girl stood directly behind him, an actual guard behind her. There was even a kings-guard , who’d put his helm on and seemed to look anywhere but at Aelyssan.

“Well,” she spoke first, still rubbing at her sore bone and flesh. “What is it?”

The girl behind Larys frowned. She’d been antsy this morning, and that had led Aelyssan to know Aemond was coming. She hadn’t expected him to be traveling with a lord, let alone the one who’d been having her followed, but the kings-guard made sense.

Larys used one hand to push back limp and thin brown hair. It had a slight wave at the end. Aelyssan dully thought that if he took better care of it, it might’ve grown nicely. “Her Highness Queen Alicent sends her regards.”

“I did assume.”

He smiled and she almost believed it genuine. “What are you doing in the Riverlands?”

Aelyssan let her hurt ankle go and slowly set her foot back on the wooden floorboards of the inn. The woman she’d paid and paid very well stood outside. Watching for Aemond, Aelyssan assumed. All the other patrons had mysteriously disappeared as well. “Taking in the sights.”

His smile widened. “Westeros is lovely around this time, isn’t it?” The girl and spy teetered on her feet behind her lord. “But that can’t be why you stayed, I’m afraid.”

“Why can’t it? You talk it up so well,” she spoke with an even tone.

“You were asked to leave.”

“Maybe I’m on my way.”

“According to...” Larys’s voice trilled. He smiled and started again, “The Prince Aemond left you where you could find a ship, and yet you’ve come here, further inland, actually.”

“Maybe there’s a specific way I have to go.” She moved uncomfortably in her seat. The spy behind Larys was still shifting. This seemed like it was her way further into her lord’s circle, and she may have been miserably failing. “I’ll be gone shortly.”

“I am, unfortunately, not so sure of this.” Larys drummed his fingers along his cane. Aelyssan spotted the same moth-ish bug the spy had clipped almost on the top of the cane. “I know when a spy is no longer mine, Aelyssan.” He leaned farther back in his own seat.

Aelyssan didn’t have a moment to speak before the girl who had followed and reported on her was spewing her own blood, a slightly curved and gleaming silver dagger tearing through the front of her throat. The girl instinctively rose her hands up, trying to push the dagger back out, trying to close the hole made into her. Her fingers split open every-time they touched the weapon. She fell forward, almost against Larys’s seat. Aelyssan watched in plain horror as she choked on her blood.

The guard who’d stood behind her and had shoved that dagger into her throat was barely looking down at her. The tips of her own fingers were bloody.

After a long minute, the girl collapsed fully. Her empty eyes stayed trained on Aelyssan, one bloody and cut hand reaching toward Aelyssan’s feet like she could’ve helped her.

“Shame that I’ll have to leave the inn a higher tip.”

“Why...” Aelyssan could fully find the words. She had watched death occur before, she had seen murder, and yet this...

“I am just reminding you of what Her Highness, the Queen has asked. You must leave, Aelyssan. The sooner the better. I can even help arrange it for you.” Larys didn’t even glimpse at the girl’s still-bleeding body.

“You’re alright with this, knight?” Aelyssan asked, staring at the kings-guard who still wouldn’t meet her gaze. She felt uncomfortably, consumingly, angry. She’d barely spoken to the girl beyond pleasantries, to really consider her a traitor, to kill her—

“Is the message clear?” Larys asked, forcing her to stop staring at the kings-guard.

“Very,” she ground out through teeth she’d clenched so tightly she could taste her own blood.

Larys hummed and smiled again, renewed. He leaned around the edge of the table, toward the girls dead body. He used a shaking hand to wrench the bug pin free from her clothes. Blood had trickled over it and he took a cloth out with his free hand and rubbed over the pin to get it off. “Very well,” he concluded as Aelyssan stared at him, at his actions. She wanted to throw herself across the table and bash her head in until she could glimpse his skull. She wanted to scream. “Do you need help finding your way out?”

She wasn’t sure if he meant Westeros or the inn, either way she gave him a stiff shake of her head and stood. Her ankle was burning in pain and she shoved it down, ignored it. She wouldn’t look weak in front of these pathetical, little men. It was almost a compliment to call them even that.

“Allow us to walk out with you,” Larys spoke after rubbing the pin clean and dry. He threw the cloth down on the wooden table and then the pin into his pocket. Larys struggled to his feet, almost making Aelyssan feel smug, and turned to face her. She begrudgingly held her tongue and let him walk behind her. She stayed ahead a step and pushed out into the open air alone.

Outside, even the woman innkeeper was gone. The guard, knight and Larys shuffled out after Aelyssan, forcing her to take larger steps from them even while she looked around. The town was unusually quiet for midday.

Even Lord Larys Strong’s remaining guards had shuffled down farther from the inn, toward where Aelyssan realized the revolting river was.

One of Larys’s men, once he’d noticed they had all come out from the inn, came bounding to him. His armor whined and hit all together when he settled in front of Larys. “He jumped in, lord.”

Panic shown over the kings-guard man before Larys realized what his guard had told him. “Who?” Larys asked.

“The Prince, lord.”

The kings-guard ran toward the gathered crowd, toward the water, instantly.

They were too late, even Aelyssan.

Aemond was already trudging back out from the dark, gritty water just as the kings-guard and Aelyssan made it to the shore. He’d cut through the raised grass before jumping into the water, and that gave Aelyssan and some of the crowd a well-enough view of him. He was covered head to toe by that disgusting water and it slowed his movements down just enough that he almost appeared to be moving in slow-motion.

Aelyssan thought the breath would be knocked out of her when some kind of creature floated to the rippling, foggy surface of the water at Aemond’s back. It was a stark white and had no arms, legs or even hands. It’s body was well too long and she was sure it would even be taller than Aemond when raised. It bled black into the already musky water.

The gathered crowd looked from the creature to Aemond, and a few screamed in triumph, in praise, delight. Most stared at the one eyed prince in shock and almost horror, but it was still in a way that showed they would bow to him, if he’d asked. He was brutal and beautiful, and far beyond all of these peoples wits and praise. Still...

They regarded their prince instead as a reborn god.

Their god didn’t care or didn’t notice them, not as he turned, coated in that blackened water and probably black creature blood, and caught Aelyssan staring at him. He stomped farther from the water, closer to her and didn’t waste a moment clasping a hand around her upper arm and dragging her back from the water and crowds and Larys and his kings-guard.

They were all too stunned to follow after as Aemond dragged Aelyssan away, past even the inn.

He said nothing as he dripped that gross and mud-smelling black water while they walked. He said nothing as he threw the dagger he must’ve used to kill that creature into the dirt beside a gaggle of horses. He didn’t bother setting a saddle on any, not as he pushed Aelyssan toward one that was a dirty brown. It grunted when she raised herself to its back and threaded her hands into its mane. Aemond followed suit, choosing a horse that seemed to already be familiar with him.

She cursed herself as Aemond began to move away on the horse, and cursed herself worse as she followed.

A/N: The next chapter will be far more steamy than anything so far, so forgive me for slower releases. See you tomorrow!

[fantasyloversanonymous]

Aemond returning home after killing luceyrs and starting a civil war: I'd like everybody to take a moment and think back to a time when they did something stupid, how they were treated, and how they wished they were treated. Alicent: What the hell did you do?

Aemond:ikilledluke

Alicent: .... what?

Aemond: vhagerateluke

Otto: ....

Alicent: