[There is a matter of getting into her room without drawing attention. That might be the thing that consumes his thoughts further than anything else for the rest of the night. At first waiting for the night to die down, the changing of the guard, the dismissal of maids and servants to tuck in for the evening. Though some of them still linger deep in the night, eyes that can lead to whispers. Whispers that can lead to ruin. Something he knows worries at his mother more than it may worry at him. It is taken with delicate caution now. If only because he has always been the son to seldom get himself in trouble.
Temptation stews at him, regardless of whether he is certain if his appetites are shared or not. The night is long thinking of what it would be like to go, to not be caught. To climb into her bed and taste her again. To feel her soft fingertips pulling at him. How it would feel to crush his entire body against hers.
What if he made it there only for her to turn him away? To find her staring at him from her bed with a look of horror. Wondering what she had done to allow him to corrupt himself further. May he be sent to the sept and pray for absolution for wanting to lay with his mother. Of all people, he is not so sure he could bear her rejection. The fear of it plunges something deep into his heart. Quaking an ancient fear of loneliness. Knowing that day he has given her something true of him, she had seen a part of him and accepted it for a time. A soft desperation. Now haunts him in ways good and bad.
For as much his thoughts bounce back and forth, he ends up in the hallway. Catching the eye of a passing guard as he pretends to get some fresh air. In his cowardice, he returns to his room and tries to sleep off the night.
Dawn arrives sooner than expected. Aemond rises having felt like he'd not slept at all. Merely floated between moments of rattled consciousness. Pushing himself forward to get ready for the day. The sun is barely in the sky by the time he reaches the Dragon Pit. The dragonkeepers kept better time, and received him to make his plans through the prince's stifled yawns while procuring estimates for such a journey.
The sleep soon lifts once he's able to take to the air. Both of them seem pleased for the release from tight walls. Soaring rounds around the bay and over the Kingswood until the sun was higher in the sky. The whole of the hill of Rhaenys trembling at her landing. Wind struck and cool to the cheek, Aemond dismounts down the rope ladder. A different carriage now waits down the hillside than when he'd left it. Giving one idle pat to Vhagar as the dragonkeepers step in to mind her back inside, he approaches it with curiosity.]
( Unlike her eldest, neither Alicent nor Aemond is the type to slink through the halls of Maegor's Holdfast under cover of night. Being a dutiful wife to her king, she has never had a want or reason to act in such nefarious ways. And whenever she was called upon during such late hours, she was escorted to his chambers, where she would lay with him for the night or return to her chambers with an escort.
Yet if they wish to continue their affair, they will need to find a way to navigate the guarded and watched halls β she can only imagine what ill rumors would spread if anyone witnessed either of them stalking through the night towards the other's chambers. Perhaps no one would think anything, not thinking it strange that a mother visit her son or a son visit his mother at such a late hour, but sooner or later, it would begin to draw suspicion, and she will do anything within her power to protect their secret.
As dawn begins to rise, Alicent gently rouses as the warm rays of the sun peek between the spaces in her curtains and the sound of her lady-in-waiting beginning to prepare for the day. Though she slept the night and did not wake to find a familiar silhouette looming over her bed, she wouldn't call her slumber. Instead, she awoke just as frustrated and wanting as when she went to bed β perhaps more so.
She picks out a dress in her usual green to ready for the day, though this dress differs slightly from others she wears β mixed in with the gold threads and beading is sapphire blue. The dress's material is thinner, less bulky, and leads to a silhouette that clings to her slim figure, though mostly hidden beneath her cloak.
After breaking fast in her chambers, she makes her way to the outer courtyard, where a carriage waits to take her to the Hill of Rhaenys and the Dragonpit. Alicent's stomach twists and turns with nerves the whole journey, wondering if he will accept her company or turn her away. Though risky, he had not visited her in the night, which left her wondering once more if he had his fill or could not bypass the guards, but still had the same burning want that resided deep within her, and he had planted there.
Sending his carriage away, she waits within hers until he returns β memories returning of a much younger Alicent lingering in wait for her childhood friend to return from her bouts of fancy and flight in the sky from the back of her dragon, Syrax. She brings a book to pass the time and idly flips through the pages, but it isn't long before the ground beneath the carriage shakes beneath the incredible force and power of Vhagar.
Closing her book and setting it aside, Alicent straightens in her seat, clasping her hands in her lap as she waits for Aemond's approach and the sounds of his foot shifting the gravel beneath. She squeezes her hands together and peers out through the open door at him, eyes wide and lips parted before pulling them between her teeth to moisten them with her tongue before speaking. )
I had hoped to arrive earlier to watch but found myself distracted this morning. So I hope you don't mind the company back to the Keep and sharing a carriage.
[ He shouldn't be surprised to see, her yet the feeling sinks in all the same once he does. It is not entirely like her to come all the way out here this early to watch him or escort him from the Dragonpit. However he'd also thought the same of her when he had caught her watching him the day before. Though instead of reach hopefully back to that sort of conclusion, his thoughts immediately turn to trouble. Penance. Diverting him from the Keep to the Sept instead. But it doesn't come. He knows her well enough to see that she is not cross or disappointed in him as he has seen her be with Aegon.]
Not at all. [The young prince agrees, looking her over as if to try and pry out a little detail of something he might have missed on the intake.
His hesitation is notable, but slips into the carriage without protest. Shifting to take the seat across from her as he begins to pluck at the fingers of his lambskin gloves to begin prying them off of him. In such a closed space, the musk of Vhagar clings to him and the smell of petrichor that clings to his hair from flying through heavy clouds. Through all of it, he can still smell the flower oils Talya brushed through her hair. Another gentle reminder of a moment that brings the feeling of flush on an otherwise cool morning.
The carriage door closes shortly after. Horses soon to rustle into motion as he continues to pull at his gloves. Almost looking at her expectantly before he minds himself again. Already feeling rushed to fill what would normally be a normal amount of silence. At least on his own behalf. ] I've spoken with the dragonkeepers, they should begin preparations.
( There is no reason for her to be cross with him; he has done nothing wrong. The sin they committed was mutual, born from shared want that left her wondering how long she had harbored such feeling or if they ignited within his chambers the day prior as she watched in him a way no mother should. If they are to seek peace and beg for absolution from the sins they have committed, there is time for it later, but there are more pressing matters that need attention before she can think of anything else.
As she looks upon Aemond sitting across from her, she can't help but take in his features as he pulls the gloves from his long, slender fingers. The same fingers gripped her thighs as he held her close and coaxed her to pleasure. The scent of him was familiar, one that she often turned her nose to, demanding that he bathe immediately to rid himself of the stench of dragon. Today, it settles differently within the confined space of the carriage. While the scent of dragon is still pungent, it is oddly comforting.
Once the carriage settles and is no longer jostling about, Alicent tucks her book behind a cushion and scoots over to make room for him, gently patting the spot beside her. )
Come, sit beside me, ( she offers with a gentle smile as she places her hand on her thigh, index finger tracing out the filigree design on the fabric, trying to keep her hands to herself when all she wants to do is pull him into her and feel the press of his body against her once more. )
I imagine bringing Vhagar along on such a journey will be costly to the Crown. Did they provide you with figures on resources that I might bring to the Hand when we next meet? β Or, if you wish, you may present it yourself.
[Aemond looks up to the cushion between them as she pats it to beckon him closer. The thick of dragon musk is one he's grown so accustomed to, it barely registers to him even after a ride. It became a symbol of pride almost once he had a dragon claimed as his own. He remembers well how she feels of it, and yet she urges him closer. Curious.
His eye following her hand as it traces along the decorated fabric splayed across her thigh. Begs him to think of what may be underneath. A moment spent thinking before he shuffles the gloves in his hands and moves over to join her as requested. Sitting close enough to touch nearly leg to leg. He pretends not to notice. His hand remain in the seat of his lap, back pressing against the cool wall of the carriage.]
They'll have an answer by the eve or on the morrow.
[Aemond answers simple. Given Vhagar's size and age, she eats less regularly than a young dragon. However, her appetite requires larger meals. More livestock to purchase from the lands of local lords, more efficient than than trying to cart the feed itself. Which will dip more shallow into the coffers, he could not say. Nor what his grandfather might agree the better solution. Price or practicality. He often knows where his mother might land, however.]
I can speak to him myself. It would be better.
[ He would want to. As he can't let her keep speaking for him the older he gets. As of his position, he knows he must advocate for himself and his desires.]
As you wish, ( she concedes, knowing he is a man grown and wishes to advocate for himself, but having spoken for him for so long, it will be a habit she needs to break.
Though he pretends not to notice the closeness of their legs, occasionally brushing and bumping into one another as their bodies shift about with the carriage, it is almost all Alicent can think about. She moves closer; whether it be on instinct or pure desire, she cannot say, but the feel of her thigh flush against his and their arms touching is enough to quell her yearning for him momentarily. )
Once you have your answer, we can meet with him. Though, if you'd prefer, you can meet privately. ( She's trying not to smother him, to give him some freedom where she can, or if she can't provide him with freedom, she can try giving him other things he desires. ) There will be a small council meeting on the morrow if you would like to attend and present yourself then.
( With their legs touching, her hand slowly inches onto his lap, the tips of her ring and middle finger cautiously running over the back of his hand. Testing the waters as she turns to look at him, wondering if he will accept her or turn her away. )
I can only imagine how dull the idea must be for you to spend a moon's journey stuck in the close confines of a carriage with your mother, especially when such a journey would take a few days at most on dragon.
[He'd do what he must, council or no. A simple hum response is on his lips over the matter. Posture stiffening slightly as she brushes up against him. Whether it be deliberate or simply due to the natural rocking of the carriage. The prince is not immediately sure. What he is sure is the gentleness of her fingertips that draw his one eye down to the ghostly touch. Only he does not know what to do with it.
It is a precocious situation, this. One that had left him uncertain day and night on if it would die back in his bedroom or take on new life. To say he is not used to the attention is an understatement. He's already scared away most the ladies at court and not sought out attentions from others otherwise. Does he take the hand does he let it wander does he move it away. What one thing is for certain is that he cannot look away from it.]
I can still make the trip in part on dragon.
[When he speaks, it falls quiet. Painfully aware of the space between them is small. That is why he requested it after all. To follow the caravan from the sky. Would seem a bit overkill to use the largest dragon living to protect the queen on a leisure visit. They're not at war. She has no enemies, at least none openly declared.
Aemond runs his teeth over his bottom lip, still not looking at her directly. Only the playfulness of her fingertips, like watching one of Helaena's spiders crawl across the wall. Wondering where it will venture next. What is it thinking? ]
I do wonder what we will do with our time otherwise. [His voice grows even softer now. Burdened by an unspoken knowing. Would it be much of this? He wonders. Daring touches under the pale light of lattice windows.]
( For a long moment, she remains silent, allowing her fingers to trace over the hills and valleys of his knuckles before outlining a protruding vein. It is a distraction that buys her time to gather her thoughts and brace herself for their weight and his answer. )
What we do depends entirely upon you, Aemond. ( Her reply is soft, matching his tone as it is just the two of them. Alone within the privacy and sanctuary, the carriage provides them.
There is a lingering hesitation. A thick fear began to grow within her belly. One that she doesn't wish to acknowledge for fear of rejection, but she knows it is something they should discuss sooner rather than later.
She doesn't force him to look at her; instead, she matches his gaze, keeping her eyes turned down, so she doesn't have to look at his face once she starts speaking. )
...If the need has passed and what happened was a fleeting want, I can forget what transpired yesterday. ( What she says is a life. She could never forget what happened. He has left a mark on her soul that will be there long after he is cold and in the ground. )
Having to deal with your brother, I know that the desires of young men can be overwhelming and consuming, and they leave as quickly as they arrive. As such, I would not hold it against you if you'd wish to forget and move on. Especially if the Seven have been just and purged you of such thoughts.
( The hand atop his comes to a standstill, trembling as her fingers linger before she grasps his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. )
Yet, if you wish to continue β I would gladly bear the weight of our transgressions.
[It is when her gaze tips down, he looks at her. Immediately he feels guilt and want. Listening to the way she eases lightly into such a territory. Down to the flutter of her fingertips on his skin. She looks striking. Youthful. Beautiful. Aemond is still beneath her except for one soothing finger flexing along the pad of his glove. Barely moving.
What did it say that the Seven had not spared them? He is not sure he even cares. Something about being with her felt justified. It felt almost sacrificing in a way he can't place the thought down. It had left a taste and he already feels starved. His throat feels dry. Fingers curling over his hand. And slowly his lips begin to widen and curl. His hand shifts underneath hers to catch the tip of her finger between his. Brushing at it with his thumb.]
This is not a fleeting want. [ The prince admits quietly. His hand shifing over her leg to release her hand to in turn drag his hand at her thigh.
This effect she holds on him now. Draws at him like gravity. He wants to see her let go again. He wants to be the source of it. The pride of her. He wants and wants. His hand glides higher, touching with a carefulness like he would a blade.] But it is consuming.
( Having braced herself for rejection, Alicent startles, flinching as he traps her fingers between his and almost withdraws her hand. She looks at him bewildered β eyes wide and blinking as she processes what he says, allowing it to sink in. And if his words weren't enough, the drag of his hand against her thigh is enough to have her lashes flutter as a shaken breath escapes her parted lips. )
Then let us be consumed together, ( she breathes as she leans towards him, lessening the distance that feels like a chasm separating them.
The tip of her nose bumps against his as the carriage rolls over uneven terrain β the clumsiness of it bringing forth a small laugh before she closes the distance. Her lips soft yet hungry against his as her eyes flutter closed. A pleased sound escapes through her nose as she leans fully into the kiss, a hand rising to cup his jaw to anchor herself. )
[ Let us be consumed, she says. As soon as she moves forward he darts to meet her. Dipping with the motion if the carriage and snuffing the laugh out of her mouth as they claim one another.
Aemond leans over her rather cramping himself to her level. His hand at her thigh abandons itβs journey to reach inside her cloak to gather her at the waist. The other mirroring her grip on his jaw, fingers threading into her hair. Pulling at her again as he shifts in part to face her. She is warm underneath the smoothing of his hand. Wrapping around her curves to pull and secure her to him.
His mouth opens with a second breath of vigor. Deepening the kiss with a cloying hunger. He thinks she still might taste like tea. Parts bitter and sweet. How much long they have riding back up to the keep, he doesnβt know and doesnβt care.]
( The time they have alone together within the sanctuary the carriage provides away from prying eyes is limited, this she knows, but it doesn't stop her want, or the way she pulls him to her as his arm wraps around her waist. Gods, she wants to give all of herself to him, to leave no part of her body untouched by his hands, mouth, and body, but she knows the limited space within the carriage restricts what they can do.
Bruised lips part, making way for their tongues to dance together, taking in the taste of him before taking his bottom lip between her teeth. She gently nips at it before releasing it with a breathy laugh as she presses her forehead against his, thumb brushing against the length of his jaw. )
Will you come to me tonight? ( She kisses him several times, the press of her lips quick against his. ) Or perhaps it will be easier for me to come to you.
I recall hidden passages, but I have never used them. If Ser Criston is not on duty, I may be able to dismiss my guard, requesting privacy for penance.
( The length they will need to go to be together will be great, but she is willing to make the effort. Willing to make the sacrifice and take on whatever risk it may bring. He is worth whatever struggles she might endure thousand times over. She wants to feel him beneath her, wracked with the pleasure she gives him. And she wants to be beneath him, crushed by the weight of his body and crying out his name in pleasure.
She wants to share in their mutual want and passion. To burn together and be consumed by the fires burning within them. )
[The nip of her teeth may be the cruelest thing. Gentle and teasing. The brief note of whimsy that follows before she speaks. He would pray their carriage gets moored in a crowd of merchants. Just to give him the time. His thumb caresses the curve of her jaw, pulling her back into him so frequent she can barely get a full sentence out.]
Youβd have me wait until nightfall? [ Aemond asks, breathy and nearly disbelieved. Possibly annoyed. The thought of having to wait now feels more excruciating than any endured thus far. Not with her within reach. With her mouth repeatedly claiming his.
There is good reason, it is not beyond him. Last night he could not make it past the guards but did not want to get himself lost trying to navigate the Keeps inner walls for the right chamber. All of them were connected. Behind tapestries and pillars and frescoes. Maegorβs paranoia ensured each of the royal chambers had means to escape. He and Aegon knew some of them well but never thought to find hers.]
Iβll. Find a way. [ The prince manages against her, breath swallowing breath.. The tip of his tongue soothes at the bruise she had tendered at dinner that lay at the corner of her mouth.
Fuck it. If he must. He will. If it means they can have one another tonight. Without pending expectations. Without the fear of eyes. He wants to see her in her array of jewels and nothing else. Looking at him the way she did before under candle light. To hear her unburdened by curious ears. He wanted more than what she could grace him now in a cushioned carriage. He can bear waiting, even though he will still mind it. ]
( Touch starved, Alicent leans into his touch. For so long, she has been left with this empty loneliness that ate away at her soul; she never thought it would be filled or sated. That it would be a pain she would carry for the rest of her life, yet he brings hope she's afraid to grasp onto for fear it might slip through her hands like sand. )
Where would you have me if you cannot wait until nightfall? ( She questions against his lips. Hissing as his tongue soothes the bruise on her lips, but it doesn't stop her from claiming him further. Kissing down his chin and continuing over his jaw, Alicent's hand releases his jaw and moves down his chest. )
In the baths? ( Spoken purposefully against his skin, lips pressed just under his ear, feeling the thrum of his pulse beneath them. ) Tucked away in the depths of the library or an abandoned room?
( She understands his impatience, not wanting to wait for the cover of night, but she feels it is the safest β until they get a footing and understand how to be with one another without others finding out. As her hand skims over the buckles of his jerkin, her fingers work at unfastening the buckles, pushing them aside as her hand splays against his chest. Traveling further, her fingers stop at the top of his breeches. )
I promise you will not leave this carriage unsatisfied if that is what you fear.
( Slipping away from him, she places one of the decorative cushions on the carriage floor before lowering herself down to kneel before him, hands resting gently on his knees to part them. )
[She leaves him panting. Long fingers caressing her jaw as she speaks. Thumb dragging along her throat. The images of her and him flicker in his mind at the places she mentions. Slipping hands across soapy breasts. Grinding against her against an old rattled bookshelf. Pressed in between her thighs along an empty balcony shaded from view by a fanning palm. Under the candlelight of Balerion's skull in the quiet of the crypts. He would find ways for them to be together. To mark her upon every surface.
The ease in which she is able to work him up is dizzying. A feat he had not known anyone capable before now. His chest rises and falls with breath under her trailing hand. Face half buried into wild auburn curls before she retreats from him.
At that moment the young prince questions what he has done to have earned this. The carriage rocks and she sways with it, parting his knees to draw her between them. He shifts closer to the edge of his seat to widen the gap and allow her in. The ache already beginning to resurface deep in the core of him. The urge to free himself from his breeches only surpassed by the intocicating desire to watch her delicate hands do it for him. ]
( Slowly, her hands creep up his thighs, fingers pressing into the lean muscles as she leans into the space created for her between them. Hands splay against his lower stomach, her fingers toying with the lacing of his breeches as she shifts her gaze to look up at him. His question brings her a moment of pause, her head canting slightly as she ponders the answer. Continuing to tease him, she pulls at one end of the lacing with one hand while the other plucks at the top lace. )
I came for you, Aemond, ( she finally says as she continues to look up at him, face flushed as her eyes scan over the sharp features of his face. )
You awoke something within the depths of me and fed a need that has been unsated for many years. All I have ever wanted was to be seen, wanted and desired β ( deft fingers work at the lacing, tugging and pulling them apart to eventually free him ) and you've given me that.
Since then, the thought of you has plagued my mind constantly, and I couldn't go another moment without seeing you or being near you. There was also the desire to understand if we were to continue or pretend what transpired never happened.
( Reaching up, she grabs ahold of the hem of his breeches and slowly pulls them down over his hips. Low enough that he springs forth freely. Her gaze finally breaks from his, traveling down the length of his body until they settle on the hardness of his member. A satisfied grin tugs at the corners of her lips as her hand wraps around the base, squeezing before stroking upward, thumb rolling over the sensitive head before her hand slides back down. Over and over again, she repeats this motion and shifts her gaze to look at him again. )
To know that we continue to share and carry the same want within us, I dare not leave you wanting and waiting until nightfall.
( With her free hand, Alicent gathers her hair over one shoulder and tucks a few rogue curls behind her ear as she leans forward. Full lips part as her mouth opens, and warm tongue lolls out, letting it drag over the underside before closing her mouth around him. A pleased hum escapes through her nose as her eyes flutter closed, head dipping forward as she takes more of him into her mouth. In tandem with her hand, she bobs her head, tongue rolling around the girth and slipping over the head. )
[ She speaks of needs Aemond sees reflected in himself. It felt good to feel desired, to be seen, to be wanted. He was a middle child with one eye. A second son left on the fringes of his family with Daeron in Oldtown, with his brother and sister to be their successor . And potentially one day king and queen of the realm. Long has he felt set aside, despite how hard he has tried to supplant his worth. Despite her love for him, as smothering as it can feel, didnβt feed the hole in his heart as much as it does for her to look at him now. The kinship that she feels the same.
If he wasnβt hard by the time she gets to him, it quickens under the pull of her hand. A steady breath rises in his lungs as he shifts and settles among the cushions. By the time she meets his gaze, his blue is already glassy with lust. Her dedication to leave him satisfied causes a curl of his lips. Feeling the amp of anticipation rising in his chest as she shifts and settles any takes him into her mouth. ]
Seven hellsβ [ he curses, but thereβs breath barely in his lungs to sound it. Her mouth is soft and warm. The drag of her tongue, warbled by the hum in her throat, is enough to cause his eye to flutter shut. He wants to watch, but at the same time he lets the song of pleasure take its trip on him. A moment thinking he could just simply die like this in the way her tongue wraps around the head.
The prince doesnβt know what to do with his hands. They drag along the tops of his thighs beside her before finding purchase into a cushion beside him. Something about relinquishing the control, allowing her to take the command of his pleasure without coaxing or pulling at her. He throws a pillow behind him to sink back into . Elbow anchored next to the carved partition that lets in the light of the city as they pass. The smallfolk wandering beside in the street so close but oblivious to the depravity theyβve subjected themselves to.
He tries now, to watch her through a heavy lidded eye. Curls tickling the fabric of his breeches as she moves. A soft moan coaxes out of his throat is as all an encouragement he can give at the moment. Trying not to slip and melt into the floor beneath her. He tries to hold on, to not let pleasure take him too swiftly.]
May the night come swiftly. [ He manages to say between deep and steady breaths. ] So I can repay this reverence.
( As his mother, Alicent could see the loneliness within her son and the want for more, but she never understood the full extent of that loneliness or how out of place he felt within the family. Perhaps it was her failings and shortcomings that brought them to this point β feeding off one another with these dark and twisted desires. Mayhaps there was more she could have done, or it is within these new roles they have taken that they can fill the voids the other has within them.
She's pleased to coax such a reaction out of him; to hear such unhindered words escape his lips as pleasure consumes him brings her a great sense of pride.
Having him relinquish all control to her, Alicent continues with her ministrations. Head continues to bob along the length of him, hand shifting downward to take more of him into her mouth as she tries to coax forth and allow oblivion to take him. Encircling her index finger and thumb around the base, she takes the whole of him. Applying more pressure with her mouth, letting her tongue slide along the bottom while her teeth lightly grazed over the top for added sensation.
With all of him in her mouth once more, the head slipping down her throat, she moans and shivers at the prospect to come once night falls β the hum vibrating through him as she sucks harder. Where he repays her in kind for the pleasure, she provides. She wants to share in pleasure with him, to slide her fingers beneath her skirts and mimic his coaxing ones, but she refrains. Wishing to save herself for the promise of pleasure to come and distracts herself by bobbing her head faster. )
[ Aemond feels like she is dragging him under. He sinks to her touch and the drag of her mouth. Fingertips scrapping idly at fabric, the other wrapped into the latticework barely holding on. The pleasure mounts the deeper she takes him. It swells him with honor, with pride, enough to overshadow those lingering guilts. This thing growing between them. It is coveted. It is sacred.
With the ease she gains on every motion the better it gets. The reverence of her tongue down to the moan in her throat. Aemond bites down on his bottom lip, stifling a groan. Hips shifting underneath her trying not to buck once he feels himself tickle the back of her throat. The rumbling of the carriage rattling her mouth as it passes over cobblestone of finer streets. He tried not to lift when her mouth rises. The heat rises in his throat, ripping his head back with a sharp gasp. Reaching that hill of pleasure that cannot be scaled down. She drags him there in what feels like body and soul.
Blindly his hand reaches for her, fingertips grasping at her shoulder. He canβt form the words, but itβs clear that the pleasure is mounting. Gentle affirmations to her die on his lips.The quickening his breath takes and chokes in his throat. They come to a stop again and he feels a shadow pass along the other side of the lattice. His hand rips back to bite the skin on the back of his hand to stifle his moan. He squeezes his eye shut as he comes and she pulls him deep into sweet oblivion. ]
( The stifled moans accompanied by the way he throbs between her lips and writhes with pleasure give away how close she has brought him. Even under the gratification she brings him with her mouth and tongue, he manages to keep some composure β something she imagines isn't an easy feat when he wishes to follow her mouth with his hips to chase rapture.
Feeling his fingers grasping her shoulder is enough to pull Alicent from her reverence. Opening her eyes, she looks up at him, her gaze heavy with lust as she takes in the sight of him biting at his hand and doing whatever he can to grasp onto that last bit of composure before it all tumbles away when ecstasy washes over him.
Releasing her hold on him, she grasps his hips, fingers pressing into their flesh as she takes all of him. Lips seal around the base while her nose presses against his stomach as she feels him throb, spilling into her mouth and throat as the taste of him fills her senses. Contently, she hums with each pulse, swallowing down each ounce until she's sure there is no more to spare. She slowly comes up with a final drag of her tongue along the length and a soft pop when she finally releases him from her mouth.
Still kneeling between his legs, she runs her tongue over her mouth, teeth, and lips, savoring the taste before swallowing again.
Helping to pull his breeches back over his hips, she's mindful when tucking him back in and begins relacing them. A shaken breath leaves her lips once she finishes, and instead of standing next to him or across from him, she gently rests her head upon a thigh, enjoying the last few moments of privacy before reaching the Keep. )
[ His bite is so firm it nearly draws blood. Finely bruised at least, the pain is rippling and broad. It does not distract him from the look in her eye he last saw. Nor the way it felt as she swallowed his seed. The noise she made at its taste. Tasting and pulling every last drop from him like it were a honeyed wine. Gods be fucking good. Is this what it feels like to be deserving?
The sharp edges of pleasure reach him as she slowly releases him, yet he doesnβt mind the white hotness of it. He sinks into the cushions under her, releasing the skin between his teeth as he gathers himself. His head rests along the wall. Rocking slowly as the carriage rumbles through. Feeling a sense of decadence, a sense of peace turn his limbs loose and useless.
He thinks he might not mind spending moons in a carriage with her. If this is how theyβll occupy their time together.
Aemondβs head pivots to look down at her. One castle gate opening for them. His hand drops to brush a curl away from her face with one light twirl of his finger. Resting it back into place. The carriage pulls forward through and trawls into the courtyard. The young prince leans forward. His idle hand reaching to draw her upward off his lap to kiss her. To press into her mouth and draw a taste of himself still lingering within the traces of it on her lips and tongue. Parting once the carriage rolls to its final stop.]
( If allowed the time away from prying eyes and those that would use their coveted secret against them, Alicent would stay like this for as long as she could. Basking in his affection and closeness. For the first time in years ( likely longer than she can remember ), feeling the emptiness filling as satisfaction washes over her.
Her head tilts into this touch, feeling the ghosting of his fingers against her skin as he places a curl back into place. As he draws her to him, Alicent once more shifts onto her knees, stretching into the kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck. Eagerly holding him in place as they share in the taste of him.
There is a reluctance as she pulls away from him, fingers catching in his hair and threading through the strands as she stands. Quickly grabbing the cushion from the floor and tossing it into the seat before sitting beside him. She reaches out, helping to fasten his jerkin closed once more with quick movements while the attendants ready themselves for their departure from the carriage. )
May night come quickly, ( she whispers as she fastens the final buckle, looking up at him before leaning in to steal another kiss before straightening herself with her hands poised neatly in her lap, ready for when the door opens. She waits for him to exit and follows behind after grabbing her book from beneath the cushion from earlier. )
[It was brief, but it was enough. The prince shifts in his seat to whereabouts it was before the door opens for them. As he stands, he fixes his jerkin by pulling at the bottom hem. Looking none different than when he might have entered it. Perhaps a bit more livened a bit more smug as he strolls into the keep with his mother in tow. One final look passed at her before they part ways.
The night, in fact, does come rather quickly. Only after a quick bath to scrub himself before he's expected to sit before a maester for daily lessons. The rest of his day foregone to do as he had promised her: navigating the hidden bowels of the Keep for the correct way to her room. Had he spent more time there, he might have found it more swiftly. But eventually found the best way to sort it out was to start from the king's chambers to find the adjoining path.
Sneaking in and through his father's room was an easy feat. Having been already visited by his maesters, they allowed him his early afternoon sleep. The cruelness is not lost on him as he slips through. Listening to pained wheezes slumbering under the burning of sacred herbs while he gently presses his fingers along the walls to find the crack that moves and opens a door concealed behind an old dusty tapestry. He pauses to look back at the lump in the bed. Feeling some twist of guilt that he is only here, has only visited him, as a means to betray him and the Seven to lay with his wife. A surreal feeling hits him. But he is already here, he has already committed, and he doesn't regret as he pushes on.
From there, it is easy to backwards navigate the way to the queen's chambers. Found in a panel beside her bed, shrouded in draperies. Waiting to enter until he is sure the room is quiet and empty before stepping in. She likely engrossed with the small council. To let her know, he moves something out of place. The book she'd taken in the carriage earlier moved from a table onto her bed. Slipping away again to now navigate himself back to a point where he might recognize and find his way to from his own room later that night.
The whole ordeal nearly makes him late for dinner. For which he is his usual self. At the prying of his grandfather, agreeing to speak on the morrow about the resources for Vhagar needed for the journey. The actual details sitting in a scroll in his room he had not yet the time to look at. By now the figures would be a scramble to digest. For the sun is set and the night has come. And whatever peace her mouth had brought him that day had waned again. The way he looks at her over half-eaten roast and spiced fruit tarts might speak as much. For the rest of the day was easy to get through but in the final hours they must face as they dismiss servants and whatever other court attentions might call them into the night. That will be the true torture. ]
( After parting, the Queen returns to her chambers. Depositing her book on a table and sitting at her vanity to refreshen herself for the tasks that remain for the day β a meeting of the small council, visiting with her husband ( though she suspects he will be deep within his slumber by the time she makes her way to him ), and some dull courtly gossip with the ladies of the court before supper rolls around.
A pang of delight flutters to life at the thought of supper, of seeing him across the table from her. Eyes locked under the candlelight and pretend interest in conversation as they await the full cover of night to join one another once more and give in to their sinful desires. Just the thought of him is enough to bring a flush of warmth to her cheeks, something she notices in the mirror's reflective surface as she brushes oils through her hair β hoping to mask the scent of dragon that might linger.
Sucking in a deep breath, Alicent holds it before releasing it, steeling herself and trying to push thoughts of him aside as she sets her comb aside and begins making her way to the small council chamber. She prays to the Seven that it will be enough distraction to keep her occupied and focused instead of her mind wandering.
More discussion of territorial disputes. Updates on the status of the conflict within the Stepstones. Movement of funds for better security and what will be allotted for her visit to Oldtown. It goes on and on until they are eventually dismissed, and she makes her way to the King's chambers with apprehension in her step.
Looking up from her hands, Alicent is relieved to see Ser Criston Cole standing guard outside her husband's chambers β this means his post will be here and not her chambers for the evening and that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Harrold, might stand post in his stead. The thought makes her wish it were Ser Criston outside her chambers tonight as she knows with enough persuasion and a demand coming from the Queen, he would leave her to her penance.
With a gentle nod to Ser Criston and Ser Willis Fell, Alicent slips into her husband's chambers and sits beside her husband. With a cloth, she softly dabs at the accounting sweat on his brow, pained to hear his agony, and offers his tincture of milk of the poppy and wine to help soothe his Then, grabbing Grabbing his frail hand, she holds it within hers, silently asking for forgiveness for the transgressions she has committed against him after being an honest and dutiful wife for so long. She can feel the guilt building, suffocating, and crushing the longer she stays, but after being lonely for so long, she doesn't her actions.
Leaving the King's chambers, Alicent gossips with several ladies of the court. Sitting and half listening as she contends with her conflicting emotions β emotions she knows will subside with time, but with how fresh and open everything is, they will ebb and flow heavily.
It isn't long before supper rolls around, and the Queen dismisses herself to join her family at the table. Engrossed in conversation with her father, Alicent wonders if Aemond will take supper in his room, but he arrives later than usual β only to be met with a raised brow from his mother before she turns back to the conversation. A conversation which immediately shifts to the young prince where the Hand wishes to speak of the resources that will be needed for Vhagar and the duties that entail accompanying his lady mother, the Queen, on such a long journey away from the Red Keep and King's Landing.
From across the table, the Queen watches the young prince as she picks at her plate β alternating between the savory taste of roast or quails drowned in butter to something sweeter like peaches in honey and an apricot tart. She knows that look in his eyes. A look she imagines is reflected within her own as the delights to come weigh heavily on her mind.
Once supper ends and everyone parts ways, Alicent makes her way to her chambers. With each step she makes as she ascends the stairs, she can feel her heart pounding harder and harder against her ribcage. It takes everything she has not to pull her skirts up and run up the steps. By the time she arrives in her chambers, Talya has begun bedding the room down, and Ser Rickard Thorne stands guard. She quickly dismisses them both, saying that she requires solitude for her penance and devotion to the Seven.
With her door closed and bolted shut, Alicent walks through her cambers to prepare herself tea and notices the book on her bed. Finding it strange since she left it atop a table, but realizes it is a sign from Aemond that he was here earlier and found her chambers through the twisting and winding innards of Maegor's Holdfast. She picks up the book and brings it with her, setting it on the table as she packs the strainer full of loose tea and pours steaming water over it. Allowing it to seep and cool within the glass before bringing it to her look as she gazes upon King's Landing to take a long pull and turning to begin readying herself for the night. )
[The night pulls on. After dinner, Aemond follows Helaena back to her and Aegon's chambers. Having been neglectful these past days, would see some attention to his niece and nephews. It's by far anywhere he would rather be, but it kills the time. It forces him to focus on something else, even if it is just the sparse and dreamy ramblings of his sister. Absent of the company from their eldest. It draws another issue at hand of the night, where Aegon might be. Likely fled into the city to feed his appetites. Helaena is unbothered for what would likely be a well-slept night, and thus the duty falls on him again to see him home.
Before retreating to his chambers, he finds Ser Arryk and gives him his orders. To find the elder prince and ensure he makes it back into the keep before sunrise. The responsibility of it is passed off his shoulders, but the weight of it remains. Sunken with annoyance and frustration. The things he does out from under his mother's eye to keep this family from falling apart. And now he must see her, the only thing he would seem to look forward to.
The night cools and quiets. Aemond too asks his privacy from his maid-servant and locks the door to his room. He doesn't give a reason, but it is not unlike him to shrug off the trivialities of being tended on every hour of the day. Dressing down to his linen undershirt and breeches. We're he fully preparing for bed, he would have removed his eyepatch. Instead it remains, a sour note that would linger upon every reflection. For as many ladies who enjoyed toying with the scars that knights show beneath their armor, there had never lifted the uneasiness in court over Aemond's eye. No one more uneasy than himself, even with the gleaming jewel inset in its place.
It feels surreal retracing his steps back through the walls of the Holdfast. Following back to the marker he made that would reset his path down to her room. Anticipation begins to boil, dizzying nerves that reminds him the first night he claimed Vhagar. Recanting the look in her eye she had at supper. The look of her in the carriage humming with him in her mouth. The look of her writhing in pleasure on top of him. He anticipates what he might find just waiting behind that door.
The seal breaks quietly in the room as Aemond pulls the panel door back by a small tether. Stepping in only wide enough as to not creak the hinges or send any signal of noise to any adjoining rooms. From behind thick curtains he can only see dots of candle light and draws them back with the back of his hand to see what awaits.]
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Temptation stews at him, regardless of whether he is certain if his appetites are shared or not. The night is long thinking of what it would be like to go, to not be caught. To climb into her bed and taste her again. To feel her soft fingertips pulling at him. How it would feel to crush his entire body against hers.
What if he made it there only for her to turn him away? To find her staring at him from her bed with a look of horror. Wondering what she had done to allow him to corrupt himself further. May he be sent to the sept and pray for absolution for wanting to lay with his mother. Of all people, he is not so sure he could bear her rejection. The fear of it plunges something deep into his heart. Quaking an ancient fear of loneliness. Knowing that day he has given her something true of him, she had seen a part of him and accepted it for a time. A soft desperation. Now haunts him in ways good and bad.
For as much his thoughts bounce back and forth, he ends up in the hallway. Catching the eye of a passing guard as he pretends to get some fresh air. In his cowardice, he returns to his room and tries to sleep off the night.
Dawn arrives sooner than expected. Aemond rises having felt like he'd not slept at all. Merely floated between moments of rattled consciousness. Pushing himself forward to get ready for the day. The sun is barely in the sky by the time he reaches the Dragon Pit. The dragonkeepers kept better time, and received him to make his plans through the prince's stifled yawns while procuring estimates for such a journey.
The sleep soon lifts once he's able to take to the air. Both of them seem pleased for the release from tight walls. Soaring rounds around the bay and over the Kingswood until the sun was higher in the sky. The whole of the hill of Rhaenys trembling at her landing. Wind struck and cool to the cheek, Aemond dismounts down the rope ladder. A different carriage now waits down the hillside than when he'd left it. Giving one idle pat to Vhagar as the dragonkeepers step in to mind her back inside, he approaches it with curiosity.]
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Yet if they wish to continue their affair, they will need to find a way to navigate the guarded and watched halls β she can only imagine what ill rumors would spread if anyone witnessed either of them stalking through the night towards the other's chambers. Perhaps no one would think anything, not thinking it strange that a mother visit her son or a son visit his mother at such a late hour, but sooner or later, it would begin to draw suspicion, and she will do anything within her power to protect their secret.
As dawn begins to rise, Alicent gently rouses as the warm rays of the sun peek between the spaces in her curtains and the sound of her lady-in-waiting beginning to prepare for the day. Though she slept the night and did not wake to find a familiar silhouette looming over her bed, she wouldn't call her slumber. Instead, she awoke just as frustrated and wanting as when she went to bed β perhaps more so.
She picks out a dress in her usual green to ready for the day, though this dress differs slightly from others she wears β mixed in with the gold threads and beading is sapphire blue. The dress's material is thinner, less bulky, and leads to a silhouette that clings to her slim figure, though mostly hidden beneath her cloak.
After breaking fast in her chambers, she makes her way to the outer courtyard, where a carriage waits to take her to the Hill of Rhaenys and the Dragonpit. Alicent's stomach twists and turns with nerves the whole journey, wondering if he will accept her company or turn her away. Though risky, he had not visited her in the night, which left her wondering once more if he had his fill or could not bypass the guards, but still had the same burning want that resided deep within her, and he had planted there.
Sending his carriage away, she waits within hers until he returns β memories returning of a much younger Alicent lingering in wait for her childhood friend to return from her bouts of fancy and flight in the sky from the back of her dragon, Syrax. She brings a book to pass the time and idly flips through the pages, but it isn't long before the ground beneath the carriage shakes beneath the incredible force and power of Vhagar.
Closing her book and setting it aside, Alicent straightens in her seat, clasping her hands in her lap as she waits for Aemond's approach and the sounds of his foot shifting the gravel beneath. She squeezes her hands together and peers out through the open door at him, eyes wide and lips parted before pulling them between her teeth to moisten them with her tongue before speaking. )
I had hoped to arrive earlier to watch but found myself distracted this morning. So I hope you don't mind the company back to the Keep and sharing a carriage.
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Not at all. [The young prince agrees, looking her over as if to try and pry out a little detail of something he might have missed on the intake.
His hesitation is notable, but slips into the carriage without protest. Shifting to take the seat across from her as he begins to pluck at the fingers of his lambskin gloves to begin prying them off of him. In such a closed space, the musk of Vhagar clings to him and the smell of petrichor that clings to his hair from flying through heavy clouds. Through all of it, he can still smell the flower oils Talya brushed through her hair. Another gentle reminder of a moment that brings the feeling of flush on an otherwise cool morning.
The carriage door closes shortly after. Horses soon to rustle into motion as he continues to pull at his gloves. Almost looking at her expectantly before he minds himself again. Already feeling rushed to fill what would normally be a normal amount of silence. At least on his own behalf. ] I've spoken with the dragonkeepers, they should begin preparations.
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As she looks upon Aemond sitting across from her, she can't help but take in his features as he pulls the gloves from his long, slender fingers. The same fingers gripped her thighs as he held her close and coaxed her to pleasure. The scent of him was familiar, one that she often turned her nose to, demanding that he bathe immediately to rid himself of the stench of dragon. Today, it settles differently within the confined space of the carriage. While the scent of dragon is still pungent, it is oddly comforting.
Once the carriage settles and is no longer jostling about, Alicent tucks her book behind a cushion and scoots over to make room for him, gently patting the spot beside her. )
Come, sit beside me, ( she offers with a gentle smile as she places her hand on her thigh, index finger tracing out the filigree design on the fabric, trying to keep her hands to herself when all she wants to do is pull him into her and feel the press of his body against her once more. )
I imagine bringing Vhagar along on such a journey will be costly to the Crown. Did they provide you with figures on resources that I might bring to the Hand when we next meet? β Or, if you wish, you may present it yourself.
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His eye following her hand as it traces along the decorated fabric splayed across her thigh. Begs him to think of what may be underneath. A moment spent thinking before he shuffles the gloves in his hands and moves over to join her as requested. Sitting close enough to touch nearly leg to leg. He pretends not to notice. His hand remain in the seat of his lap, back pressing against the cool wall of the carriage.]
They'll have an answer by the eve or on the morrow.
[Aemond answers simple. Given Vhagar's size and age, she eats less regularly than a young dragon. However, her appetite requires larger meals. More livestock to purchase from the lands of local lords, more efficient than than trying to cart the feed itself. Which will dip more shallow into the coffers, he could not say. Nor what his grandfather might agree the better solution. Price or practicality. He often knows where his mother might land, however.]
I can speak to him myself. It would be better.
[ He would want to. As he can't let her keep speaking for him the older he gets. As of his position, he knows he must advocate for himself and his desires.]
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Though he pretends not to notice the closeness of their legs, occasionally brushing and bumping into one another as their bodies shift about with the carriage, it is almost all Alicent can think about. She moves closer; whether it be on instinct or pure desire, she cannot say, but the feel of her thigh flush against his and their arms touching is enough to quell her yearning for him momentarily. )
Once you have your answer, we can meet with him. Though, if you'd prefer, you can meet privately. ( She's trying not to smother him, to give him some freedom where she can, or if she can't provide him with freedom, she can try giving him other things he desires. ) There will be a small council meeting on the morrow if you would like to attend and present yourself then.
( With their legs touching, her hand slowly inches onto his lap, the tips of her ring and middle finger cautiously running over the back of his hand. Testing the waters as she turns to look at him, wondering if he will accept her or turn her away. )
I can only imagine how dull the idea must be for you to spend a moon's journey stuck in the close confines of a carriage with your mother, especially when such a journey would take a few days at most on dragon.
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It is a precocious situation, this. One that had left him uncertain day and night on if it would die back in his bedroom or take on new life. To say he is not used to the attention is an understatement. He's already scared away most the ladies at court and not sought out attentions from others otherwise. Does he take the hand does he let it wander does he move it away. What one thing is for certain is that he cannot look away from it.]
I can still make the trip in part on dragon.
[When he speaks, it falls quiet. Painfully aware of the space between them is small. That is why he requested it after all. To follow the caravan from the sky. Would seem a bit overkill to use the largest dragon living to protect the queen on a leisure visit. They're not at war. She has no enemies, at least none openly declared.
Aemond runs his teeth over his bottom lip, still not looking at her directly. Only the playfulness of her fingertips, like watching one of Helaena's spiders crawl across the wall. Wondering where it will venture next. What is it thinking? ]
I do wonder what we will do with our time otherwise. [His voice grows even softer now. Burdened by an unspoken knowing. Would it be much of this? He wonders. Daring touches under the pale light of lattice windows.]
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What we do depends entirely upon you, Aemond. ( Her reply is soft, matching his tone as it is just the two of them. Alone within the privacy and sanctuary, the carriage provides them.
There is a lingering hesitation. A thick fear began to grow within her belly. One that she doesn't wish to acknowledge for fear of rejection, but she knows it is something they should discuss sooner rather than later.
She doesn't force him to look at her; instead, she matches his gaze, keeping her eyes turned down, so she doesn't have to look at his face once she starts speaking. )
...If the need has passed and what happened was a fleeting want, I can forget what transpired yesterday. ( What she says is a life. She could never forget what happened. He has left a mark on her soul that will be there long after he is cold and in the ground. )
Having to deal with your brother, I know that the desires of young men can be overwhelming and consuming, and they leave as quickly as they arrive. As such, I would not hold it against you if you'd wish to forget and move on. Especially if the Seven have been just and purged you of such thoughts.
( The hand atop his comes to a standstill, trembling as her fingers linger before she grasps his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. )
Yet, if you wish to continue β I would gladly bear the weight of our transgressions.
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What did it say that the Seven had not spared them? He is not sure he even cares. Something about being with her felt justified. It felt almost sacrificing in a way he can't place the thought down. It had left a taste and he already feels starved. His throat feels dry. Fingers curling over his hand. And slowly his lips begin to widen and curl. His hand shifts underneath hers to catch the tip of her finger between his. Brushing at it with his thumb.]
This is not a fleeting want. [ The prince admits quietly. His hand shifing over her leg to release her hand to in turn drag his hand at her thigh.
This effect she holds on him now. Draws at him like gravity. He wants to see her let go again. He wants to be the source of it. The pride of her. He wants and wants. His hand glides higher, touching with a carefulness like he would a blade.] But it is consuming.
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Then let us be consumed together, ( she breathes as she leans towards him, lessening the distance that feels like a chasm separating them.
The tip of her nose bumps against his as the carriage rolls over uneven terrain β the clumsiness of it bringing forth a small laugh before she closes the distance. Her lips soft yet hungry against his as her eyes flutter closed. A pleased sound escapes through her nose as she leans fully into the kiss, a hand rising to cup his jaw to anchor herself. )
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[ Let us be consumed, she says. As soon as she moves forward he darts to meet her. Dipping with the motion if the carriage and snuffing the laugh out of her mouth as they claim one another.
Aemond leans over her rather cramping himself to her level. His hand at her thigh abandons itβs journey to reach inside her cloak to gather her at the waist. The other mirroring her grip on his jaw, fingers threading into her hair. Pulling at her again as he shifts in part to face her. She is warm underneath the smoothing of his hand. Wrapping around her curves to pull and secure her to him.
His mouth opens with a second breath of vigor. Deepening the kiss with a cloying hunger. He thinks she still might taste like tea. Parts bitter and sweet. How much long they have riding back up to the keep, he doesnβt know and doesnβt care.]
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Bruised lips part, making way for their tongues to dance together, taking in the taste of him before taking his bottom lip between her teeth. She gently nips at it before releasing it with a breathy laugh as she presses her forehead against his, thumb brushing against the length of his jaw. )
Will you come to me tonight? ( She kisses him several times, the press of her lips quick against his. ) Or perhaps it will be easier for me to come to you.
I recall hidden passages, but I have never used them. If Ser Criston is not on duty, I may be able to dismiss my guard, requesting privacy for penance.
( The length they will need to go to be together will be great, but she is willing to make the effort. Willing to make the sacrifice and take on whatever risk it may bring. He is worth whatever struggles she might endure thousand times over. She wants to feel him beneath her, wracked with the pleasure she gives him. And she wants to be beneath him, crushed by the weight of his body and crying out his name in pleasure.
She wants to share in their mutual want and passion. To burn together and be consumed by the fires burning within them. )
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[The nip of her teeth may be the cruelest thing. Gentle and teasing. The brief note of whimsy that follows before she speaks. He would pray their carriage gets moored in a crowd of merchants. Just to give him the time. His thumb caresses the curve of her jaw, pulling her back into him so frequent she can barely get a full sentence out.]
Youβd have me wait until nightfall? [ Aemond asks, breathy and nearly disbelieved. Possibly annoyed. The thought of having to wait now feels more excruciating than any endured thus far. Not with her within reach. With her mouth repeatedly claiming his.
There is good reason, it is not beyond him. Last night he could not make it past the guards but did not want to get himself lost trying to navigate the Keeps inner walls for the right chamber. All of them were connected. Behind tapestries and pillars and frescoes. Maegorβs paranoia ensured each of the royal chambers had means to escape. He and Aegon knew some of them well but never thought to find hers.]
Iβll. Find a way. [ The prince manages against her, breath swallowing breath.. The tip of his tongue soothes at the bruise she had tendered at dinner that lay at the corner of her mouth.
Fuck it. If he must. He will. If it means they can have one another tonight. Without pending expectations. Without the fear of eyes. He wants to see her in her array of jewels and nothing else. Looking at him the way she did before under candle light. To hear her unburdened by curious ears. He wanted more than what she could grace him now in a cushioned carriage. He can bear waiting, even though he will still mind it. ]
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Where would you have me if you cannot wait until nightfall? ( She questions against his lips. Hissing as his tongue soothes the bruise on her lips, but it doesn't stop her from claiming him further. Kissing down his chin and continuing over his jaw, Alicent's hand releases his jaw and moves down his chest. )
In the baths? ( Spoken purposefully against his skin, lips pressed just under his ear, feeling the thrum of his pulse beneath them. ) Tucked away in the depths of the library or an abandoned room?
( She understands his impatience, not wanting to wait for the cover of night, but she feels it is the safest β until they get a footing and understand how to be with one another without others finding out. As her hand skims over the buckles of his jerkin, her fingers work at unfastening the buckles, pushing them aside as her hand splays against his chest. Traveling further, her fingers stop at the top of his breeches. )
I promise you will not leave this carriage unsatisfied if that is what you fear.
( Slipping away from him, she places one of the decorative cushions on the carriage floor before lowering herself down to kneel before him, hands resting gently on his knees to part them. )
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The ease in which she is able to work him up is dizzying. A feat he had not known anyone capable before now. His chest rises and falls with breath under her trailing hand. Face half buried into wild auburn curls before she retreats from him.
At that moment the young prince questions what he has done to have earned this. The carriage rocks and she sways with it, parting his knees to draw her between them. He shifts closer to the edge of his seat to widen the gap and allow her in. The ache already beginning to resurface deep in the core of him. The urge to free himself from his breeches only surpassed by the intocicating desire to watch her delicate hands do it for him. ]
This is why you came?
[Is this what she wanted?]
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I came for you, Aemond, ( she finally says as she continues to look up at him, face flushed as her eyes scan over the sharp features of his face. )
You awoke something within the depths of me and fed a need that has been unsated for many years. All I have ever wanted was to be seen, wanted and desired β ( deft fingers work at the lacing, tugging and pulling them apart to eventually free him ) and you've given me that.
Since then, the thought of you has plagued my mind constantly, and I couldn't go another moment without seeing you or being near you. There was also the desire to understand if we were to continue or pretend what transpired never happened.
( Reaching up, she grabs ahold of the hem of his breeches and slowly pulls them down over his hips. Low enough that he springs forth freely. Her gaze finally breaks from his, traveling down the length of his body until they settle on the hardness of his member. A satisfied grin tugs at the corners of her lips as her hand wraps around the base, squeezing before stroking upward, thumb rolling over the sensitive head before her hand slides back down. Over and over again, she repeats this motion and shifts her gaze to look at him again. )
To know that we continue to share and carry the same want within us, I dare not leave you wanting and waiting until nightfall.
( With her free hand, Alicent gathers her hair over one shoulder and tucks a few rogue curls behind her ear as she leans forward. Full lips part as her mouth opens, and warm tongue lolls out, letting it drag over the underside before closing her mouth around him. A pleased hum escapes through her nose as her eyes flutter closed, head dipping forward as she takes more of him into her mouth. In tandem with her hand, she bobs her head, tongue rolling around the girth and slipping over the head. )
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If he wasnβt hard by the time she gets to him, it quickens under the pull of her hand. A steady breath rises in his lungs as he shifts and settles among the cushions. By the time she meets his gaze, his blue is already glassy with lust. Her dedication to leave him satisfied causes a curl of his lips. Feeling the amp of anticipation rising in his chest as she shifts and settles any takes him into her mouth. ]
Seven hellsβ [ he curses, but thereβs breath barely in his lungs to sound it. Her mouth is soft and warm. The drag of her tongue, warbled by the hum in her throat, is enough to cause his eye to flutter shut. He wants to watch, but at the same time he lets the song of pleasure take its trip on him. A moment thinking he could just simply die like this in the way her tongue wraps around the head.
The prince doesnβt know what to do with his hands. They drag along the tops of his thighs beside her before finding purchase into a cushion beside him. Something about relinquishing the control, allowing her to take the command of his pleasure without coaxing or pulling at her. He throws a pillow behind him to sink back into . Elbow anchored next to the carved partition that lets in the light of the city as they pass. The smallfolk wandering beside in the street so close but oblivious to the depravity theyβve subjected themselves to.
He tries now, to watch her through a heavy lidded eye. Curls tickling the fabric of his breeches as she moves. A soft moan coaxes out of his throat is as all an encouragement he can give at the moment. Trying not to slip and melt into the floor beneath her. He tries to hold on, to not let pleasure take him too swiftly.]
May the night come swiftly. [ He manages to say between deep and steady breaths. ] So I can repay this reverence.
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She's pleased to coax such a reaction out of him; to hear such unhindered words escape his lips as pleasure consumes him brings her a great sense of pride.
Having him relinquish all control to her, Alicent continues with her ministrations. Head continues to bob along the length of him, hand shifting downward to take more of him into her mouth as she tries to coax forth and allow oblivion to take him. Encircling her index finger and thumb around the base, she takes the whole of him. Applying more pressure with her mouth, letting her tongue slide along the bottom while her teeth lightly grazed over the top for added sensation.
With all of him in her mouth once more, the head slipping down her throat, she moans and shivers at the prospect to come once night falls β the hum vibrating through him as she sucks harder. Where he repays her in kind for the pleasure, she provides. She wants to share in pleasure with him, to slide her fingers beneath her skirts and mimic his coaxing ones, but she refrains. Wishing to save herself for the promise of pleasure to come and distracts herself by bobbing her head faster. )
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With the ease she gains on every motion the better it gets. The reverence of her tongue down to the moan in her throat. Aemond bites down on his bottom lip, stifling a groan. Hips shifting underneath her trying not to buck once he feels himself tickle the back of her throat. The rumbling of the carriage rattling her mouth as it passes over cobblestone of finer streets. He tried not to lift when her mouth rises. The heat rises in his throat, ripping his head back with a sharp gasp. Reaching that hill of pleasure that cannot be scaled down. She drags him there in what feels like body and soul.
Blindly his hand reaches for her, fingertips grasping at her shoulder. He canβt form the words, but itβs clear that the pleasure is mounting. Gentle affirmations to her die on his lips.The quickening his breath takes and chokes in his throat. They come to a stop again and he feels a shadow pass along the other side of the lattice. His hand rips back to bite the skin on the back of his hand to stifle his moan. He squeezes his eye shut as he comes and she pulls him deep into sweet oblivion. ]
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Feeling his fingers grasping her shoulder is enough to pull Alicent from her reverence. Opening her eyes, she looks up at him, her gaze heavy with lust as she takes in the sight of him biting at his hand and doing whatever he can to grasp onto that last bit of composure before it all tumbles away when ecstasy washes over him.
Releasing her hold on him, she grasps his hips, fingers pressing into their flesh as she takes all of him. Lips seal around the base while her nose presses against his stomach as she feels him throb, spilling into her mouth and throat as the taste of him fills her senses. Contently, she hums with each pulse, swallowing down each ounce until she's sure there is no more to spare. She slowly comes up with a final drag of her tongue along the length and a soft pop when she finally releases him from her mouth.
Still kneeling between his legs, she runs her tongue over her mouth, teeth, and lips, savoring the taste before swallowing again.
Helping to pull his breeches back over his hips, she's mindful when tucking him back in and begins relacing them. A shaken breath leaves her lips once she finishes, and instead of standing next to him or across from him, she gently rests her head upon a thigh, enjoying the last few moments of privacy before reaching the Keep. )
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The sharp edges of pleasure reach him as she slowly releases him, yet he doesnβt mind the white hotness of it. He sinks into the cushions under her, releasing the skin between his teeth as he gathers himself. His head rests along the wall. Rocking slowly as the carriage rumbles through. Feeling a sense of decadence, a sense of peace turn his limbs loose and useless.
He thinks he might not mind spending moons in a carriage with her. If this is how theyβll occupy their time together.
Aemondβs head pivots to look down at her. One castle gate opening for them. His hand drops to brush a curl away from her face with one light twirl of his finger. Resting it back into place. The carriage pulls forward through and trawls into the courtyard. The young prince leans forward. His idle hand reaching to draw her upward off his lap to kiss her. To press into her mouth and draw a taste of himself still lingering within the traces of it on her lips and tongue. Parting once the carriage rolls to its final stop.]
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Her head tilts into this touch, feeling the ghosting of his fingers against her skin as he places a curl back into place. As he draws her to him, Alicent once more shifts onto her knees, stretching into the kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck. Eagerly holding him in place as they share in the taste of him.
There is a reluctance as she pulls away from him, fingers catching in his hair and threading through the strands as she stands. Quickly grabbing the cushion from the floor and tossing it into the seat before sitting beside him. She reaches out, helping to fasten his jerkin closed once more with quick movements while the attendants ready themselves for their departure from the carriage. )
May night come quickly, ( she whispers as she fastens the final buckle, looking up at him before leaning in to steal another kiss before straightening herself with her hands poised neatly in her lap, ready for when the door opens. She waits for him to exit and follows behind after grabbing her book from beneath the cushion from earlier. )
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The night, in fact, does come rather quickly. Only after a quick bath to scrub himself before he's expected to sit before a maester for daily lessons. The rest of his day foregone to do as he had promised her: navigating the hidden bowels of the Keep for the correct way to her room. Had he spent more time there, he might have found it more swiftly. But eventually found the best way to sort it out was to start from the king's chambers to find the adjoining path.
Sneaking in and through his father's room was an easy feat. Having been already visited by his maesters, they allowed him his early afternoon sleep. The cruelness is not lost on him as he slips through. Listening to pained wheezes slumbering under the burning of sacred herbs while he gently presses his fingers along the walls to find the crack that moves and opens a door concealed behind an old dusty tapestry. He pauses to look back at the lump in the bed. Feeling some twist of guilt that he is only here, has only visited him, as a means to betray him and the Seven to lay with his wife. A surreal feeling hits him. But he is already here, he has already committed, and he doesn't regret as he pushes on.
From there, it is easy to backwards navigate the way to the queen's chambers. Found in a panel beside her bed, shrouded in draperies. Waiting to enter until he is sure the room is quiet and empty before stepping in. She likely engrossed with the small council. To let her know, he moves something out of place. The book she'd taken in the carriage earlier moved from a table onto her bed. Slipping away again to now navigate himself back to a point where he might recognize and find his way to from his own room later that night.
The whole ordeal nearly makes him late for dinner. For which he is his usual self. At the prying of his grandfather, agreeing to speak on the morrow about the resources for Vhagar needed for the journey. The actual details sitting in a scroll in his room he had not yet the time to look at. By now the figures would be a scramble to digest. For the sun is set and the night has come. And whatever peace her mouth had brought him that day had waned again. The way he looks at her over half-eaten roast and spiced fruit tarts might speak as much. For the rest of the day was easy to get through but in the final hours they must face as they dismiss servants and whatever other court attentions might call them into the night. That will be the true torture. ]
I'M SORRY THIS GOT WORDY
A pang of delight flutters to life at the thought of supper, of seeing him across the table from her. Eyes locked under the candlelight and pretend interest in conversation as they await the full cover of night to join one another once more and give in to their sinful desires. Just the thought of him is enough to bring a flush of warmth to her cheeks, something she notices in the mirror's reflective surface as she brushes oils through her hair β hoping to mask the scent of dragon that might linger.
Sucking in a deep breath, Alicent holds it before releasing it, steeling herself and trying to push thoughts of him aside as she sets her comb aside and begins making her way to the small council chamber. She prays to the Seven that it will be enough distraction to keep her occupied and focused instead of her mind wandering.
More discussion of territorial disputes. Updates on the status of the conflict within the Stepstones. Movement of funds for better security and what will be allotted for her visit to Oldtown. It goes on and on until they are eventually dismissed, and she makes her way to the King's chambers with apprehension in her step.
Looking up from her hands, Alicent is relieved to see Ser Criston Cole standing guard outside her husband's chambers β this means his post will be here and not her chambers for the evening and that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Harrold, might stand post in his stead. The thought makes her wish it were Ser Criston outside her chambers tonight as she knows with enough persuasion and a demand coming from the Queen, he would leave her to her penance.
With a gentle nod to Ser Criston and Ser Willis Fell, Alicent slips into her husband's chambers and sits beside her husband. With a cloth, she softly dabs at the accounting sweat on his brow, pained to hear his agony, and offers his tincture of milk of the poppy and wine to help soothe his Then, grabbing Grabbing his frail hand, she holds it within hers, silently asking for forgiveness for the transgressions she has committed against him after being an honest and dutiful wife for so long. She can feel the guilt building, suffocating, and crushing the longer she stays, but after being lonely for so long, she doesn't her actions.
Leaving the King's chambers, Alicent gossips with several ladies of the court. Sitting and half listening as she contends with her conflicting emotions β emotions she knows will subside with time, but with how fresh and open everything is, they will ebb and flow heavily.
It isn't long before supper rolls around, and the Queen dismisses herself to join her family at the table. Engrossed in conversation with her father, Alicent wonders if Aemond will take supper in his room, but he arrives later than usual β only to be met with a raised brow from his mother before she turns back to the conversation. A conversation which immediately shifts to the young prince where the Hand wishes to speak of the resources that will be needed for Vhagar and the duties that entail accompanying his lady mother, the Queen, on such a long journey away from the Red Keep and King's Landing.
From across the table, the Queen watches the young prince as she picks at her plate β alternating between the savory taste of roast or quails drowned in butter to something sweeter like peaches in honey and an apricot tart. She knows that look in his eyes. A look she imagines is reflected within her own as the delights to come weigh heavily on her mind.
Once supper ends and everyone parts ways, Alicent makes her way to her chambers. With each step she makes as she ascends the stairs, she can feel her heart pounding harder and harder against her ribcage. It takes everything she has not to pull her skirts up and run up the steps. By the time she arrives in her chambers, Talya has begun bedding the room down, and Ser Rickard Thorne stands guard. She quickly dismisses them both, saying that she requires solitude for her penance and devotion to the Seven.
With her door closed and bolted shut, Alicent walks through her cambers to prepare herself tea and notices the book on her bed. Finding it strange since she left it atop a table, but realizes it is a sign from Aemond that he was here earlier and found her chambers through the twisting and winding innards of Maegor's Holdfast. She picks up the book and brings it with her, setting it on the table as she packs the strainer full of loose tea and pours steaming water over it. Allowing it to seep and cool within the glass before bringing it to her look as she gazes upon King's Landing to take a long pull and turning to begin readying herself for the night. )
lololol
Before retreating to his chambers, he finds Ser Arryk and gives him his orders. To find the elder prince and ensure he makes it back into the keep before sunrise. The responsibility of it is passed off his shoulders, but the weight of it remains. Sunken with annoyance and frustration. The things he does out from under his mother's eye to keep this family from falling apart. And now he must see her, the only thing he would seem to look forward to.
The night cools and quiets. Aemond too asks his privacy from his maid-servant and locks the door to his room. He doesn't give a reason, but it is not unlike him to shrug off the trivialities of being tended on every hour of the day. Dressing down to his linen undershirt and breeches. We're he fully preparing for bed, he would have removed his eyepatch. Instead it remains, a sour note that would linger upon every reflection. For as many ladies who enjoyed toying with the scars that knights show beneath their armor, there had never lifted the uneasiness in court over Aemond's eye. No one more uneasy than himself, even with the gleaming jewel inset in its place.
It feels surreal retracing his steps back through the walls of the Holdfast. Following back to the marker he made that would reset his path down to her room. Anticipation begins to boil, dizzying nerves that reminds him the first night he claimed Vhagar. Recanting the look in her eye she had at supper. The look of her in the carriage humming with him in her mouth. The look of her writhing in pleasure on top of him. He anticipates what he might find just waiting behind that door.
The seal breaks quietly in the room as Aemond pulls the panel door back by a small tether. Stepping in only wide enough as to not creak the hinges or send any signal of noise to any adjoining rooms. From behind thick curtains he can only see dots of candle light and draws them back with the back of his hand to see what awaits.]
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π
merry shitscram π
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wow 100 comments deep already π
ππlook at us go
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forever later
π Iβm on my phone so I sure hope thatβs the right html for hovertext
guess who's back, back again?
π
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