[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.]
( Taking a seat at her vanity once more, Alicent sets down her cup as she toes off her shoes, pushing them aside as she reaches beneath her skirts to remove her stockings. Hands travel over her legs before slipping between skin and stocking to remove them, one after the other. Standing with bare feet touching the cold stone floor before moving to a rug, she removes her dress.
It is easier with another pair of hands, but she makes do as she reaches behind her back to pull at the laces. Having to shift to make a bigger opening, but with time and effort, she manages to slip out of the dress, followed by her chemise, and places them over a chair to be dealt with come morning.
Parching through her wardrobe, she settles on another silken sleeping gown. It is soft and cool against her skin as she slips it on, tying the fastenings over her chest before pulling a green robe over it. She doesn't bother tying the robe and leaves it open as she returns to her vanity for her tea. Fingers wrapping around the glass and enjoying its warmth; she takes another drink. Then, emptying Emptying the glass, she moves across the room to make another cup β her robes billowing behind her as she walks the short distance.
As she's making herself another glass of tea, she hears the gentle opening of the panel from behind a curtain. Her heart nearly flies into her throat with anticipation, her stomach twisting as she feels foolish for having such a maidenly reaction when she knew he is coming. Yet, it doesn't take away from the dizzying excitement she feels building within the depths of her.
Grabbing ahold of her fresh cup of tea, Alicent brings it to her lips for a sip as she continues to gaze out the window into the city beyond. The candlelight dances over the shine of her hair and the reflective fabric of her robes, illuminating her in a soft glow as she turns just enough to glance over her shoulder to see Aemond standing there. )
[ Aemond is used to the feel of haunting rooms. To stand there a moment watching her just be is one to take in. He is not trying to be sneaky, but he moves slow. Taking her in. How the light shines on her. The seal broken now that he's there puts him in a strange state. The anticipation is still there, and it seems to be a feeling he thrives in nowadays. Teetering on the edge of something.]
Not at all. [The young prince excuses. For all that it was worth, the plan itself would seem a success. It might be everything else going around it had been the burdensome thing.
His hands gather behind his back as he draws near her. Egregiously formal, somehow. Perhaps out of habit of approaching her before. The nature of their relationship now feels like a breaking of boundaries, but still forced to obey the old ones. It doesn't feel correct to stray. And something about that makes it almost fun.
Aemond stops in a place not too close yet not too far. Eye grazing over the room before coming back to her. ]
I can show you the way if you need it.
[Honestly, she shouldn't know. He can hear Aegon's voice in his head now. Potentially ruining a good thing, getting to know this place inside and out. Knowing its worth more to them than anyone that might try to use it against them. But he likes the idea, perhaps, of doing something else daring for once. He thinks he likes the way she looks when she does it.]
( A simple hum of acknowledgment leaves her lips as she brings her glass to them once more, taking a long pull of tea before finishing it off and turning away from him to set her glass atop the table. She lingers for a moment, gazing upon the city before finally facing him, her hand coming up to finger the charm of her necklace. )
Knowing the inner workings of the Steadfast may come in handy in the days to come, ( she muses as she takes two steps towards him but stops, purposefully keeping out of arms reach as she begins to circle him.
Though she is no dragon, there is a proud fierceness within her as she holds her head high, eyes lathing over his form as she takes in the sight of him. For years she has been a quiet woman, a Queen blending into the background and overpowered by those around her, but it seems that he has lit a fierceness within her. One that has been hidden beneath the surface and reared its head that fateful night on Driftmark when he lost his eye. )
Does the idea of me sneaking through unlit corridors to seek out your chambers and companionship please you? ( Her arms crossed under her chest, fingers gripping at her elbows. ) Would you have me wanton and desperate enough to lower myself sneaking about?
( The thin, barely there material of her shift does little to hide the hardening peaks of her nipples. She moistens her lips with her tongue, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace at the excitement of going against her nature brings. )
Aemond looks down and smiles. Lips quivering in a way that might try to fight and stifle it from curling too quickly. He has not seen this side of her often. When she has a fire in her eye, a shift in the way she carries her shoulders. She should be like this more often. Men of the court might start to see her differently, but that was well beyond his place. Instead he can simply let her eyes rake over him. This is her nature, stripped away from titles and expectations. Let her fly free, he can handle her. He already rides the biggest and oldest she-dragon in this living world. ]
Yes, my Queen. [Aemond answers as his eye climbs from her feet to meet her gaze. Discerning the features masked underneath her thin gown. He does not move closer, perhaps she might like him to try. Perhaps she prefers him to stay where he was.
He has no objection to the image she paints. How the thrill might be to wake up to her crawling stop his bed. Dressed as she is now or even less. Despite his formality, it comes out rather cheeky. ]
A lady of your position should take what she wants more often. It suits her.
[ He feels like heβs one of the lambs being brought to the Dragonpit for slaughter. Standing before her in the middle of her room. With her looking at him in the way she does now. When she meets a point where his eye can no longer follow, he does not turn his head to continue watching her. Instead listening for her as she moved about. Waiting with the tips of his fingers digging at the palm of his hand still rested behind his back.]
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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. )
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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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It is easier with another pair of hands, but she makes do as she reaches behind her back to pull at the laces. Having to shift to make a bigger opening, but with time and effort, she manages to slip out of the dress, followed by her chemise, and places them over a chair to be dealt with come morning.
Parching through her wardrobe, she settles on another silken sleeping gown. It is soft and cool against her skin as she slips it on, tying the fastenings over her chest before pulling a green robe over it. She doesn't bother tying the robe and leaves it open as she returns to her vanity for her tea. Fingers wrapping around the glass and enjoying its warmth; she takes another drink. Then, emptying Emptying the glass, she moves across the room to make another cup β her robes billowing behind her as she walks the short distance.
As she's making herself another glass of tea, she hears the gentle opening of the panel from behind a curtain. Her heart nearly flies into her throat with anticipation, her stomach twisting as she feels foolish for having such a maidenly reaction when she knew he is coming. Yet, it doesn't take away from the dizzying excitement she feels building within the depths of her.
Grabbing ahold of her fresh cup of tea, Alicent brings it to her lips for a sip as she continues to gaze out the window into the city beyond. The candlelight dances over the shine of her hair and the reflective fabric of her robes, illuminating her in a soft glow as she turns just enough to glance over her shoulder to see Aemond standing there. )
I hope that coming here was not too burdensome.
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Not at all. [The young prince excuses. For all that it was worth, the plan itself would seem a success. It might be everything else going around it had been the burdensome thing.
His hands gather behind his back as he draws near her. Egregiously formal, somehow. Perhaps out of habit of approaching her before. The nature of their relationship now feels like a breaking of boundaries, but still forced to obey the old ones. It doesn't feel correct to stray. And something about that makes it almost fun.
Aemond stops in a place not too close yet not too far. Eye grazing over the room before coming back to her. ]
I can show you the way if you need it.
[Honestly, she shouldn't know. He can hear Aegon's voice in his head now. Potentially ruining a good thing, getting to know this place inside and out. Knowing its worth more to them than anyone that might try to use it against them. But he likes the idea, perhaps, of doing something else daring for once. He thinks he likes the way she looks when she does it.]
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Knowing the inner workings of the Steadfast may come in handy in the days to come, ( she muses as she takes two steps towards him but stops, purposefully keeping out of arms reach as she begins to circle him.
Though she is no dragon, there is a proud fierceness within her as she holds her head high, eyes lathing over his form as she takes in the sight of him. For years she has been a quiet woman, a Queen blending into the background and overpowered by those around her, but it seems that he has lit a fierceness within her. One that has been hidden beneath the surface and reared its head that fateful night on Driftmark when he lost his eye. )
Does the idea of me sneaking through unlit corridors to seek out your chambers and companionship please you? ( Her arms crossed under her chest, fingers gripping at her elbows. ) Would you have me wanton and desperate enough to lower myself sneaking about?
( The thin, barely there material of her shift does little to hide the hardening peaks of her nipples. She moistens her lips with her tongue, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace at the excitement of going against her nature brings. )
Answer me, Aemond.
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Aemond looks down and smiles. Lips quivering in a way that might try to fight and stifle it from curling too quickly. He has not seen this side of her often. When she has a fire in her eye, a shift in the way she carries her shoulders. She should be like this more often. Men of the court might start to see her differently, but that was well beyond his place. Instead he can simply let her eyes rake over him. This is her nature, stripped away from titles and expectations. Let her fly free, he can handle her. He already rides the biggest and oldest she-dragon in this living world. ]
Yes, my Queen. [Aemond answers as his eye climbs from her feet to meet her gaze. Discerning the features masked underneath her thin gown. He does not move closer, perhaps she might like him to try. Perhaps she prefers him to stay where he was.
He has no objection to the image she paints. How the thrill might be to wake up to her crawling stop his bed. Dressed as she is now or even less. Despite his formality, it comes out rather cheeky. ]
A lady of your position should take what she wants more often. It suits her.
[ He feels like heβs one of the lambs being brought to the Dragonpit for slaughter. Standing before her in the middle of her room. With her looking at him in the way she does now. When she meets a point where his eye can no longer follow, he does not turn his head to continue watching her. Instead listening for her as she moved about. Waiting with the tips of his fingers digging at the palm of his hand still rested behind his back.]
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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?
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