[ In exchange of stolen glances, Aemond looks up at his mother when she addresses the Hand. The warm candle light to hide any flush in her face, he would mark her behavior as antsy. Clearly not entirely shielded from the afternoonβs events.
A serving girl appears at his shoulder to fill his cup, drawing his attention away when her attention falls back to him. His head is not down as it was when they broke fast. Lips pressed together in a fine line to stifle an unsurprised grunt at the news that the King would not join them. Itβs more of a blessing tonight if all nights.
Aemond drinks from his cup, using it as a means to look over. Only this time he does catch his motherβs eye. Unsure exactly what to do, he holds it for what feels an impossibly long moment. Nearly draining his cup in the process. What is she thinking?
The doors jostle open as Aegon is announced through shortly followed by Helaena. The Hand makes a noise of delighted surprise that they have been graced by a nearly full table this evening.
By the jaunt in his elder brotherβs step, he has already had a fill of wine before taking seat at the table. Aemond grimaces as he swallows, setting his cup down to be immediately refilled. Back stiff as the last of trays are set at the table.]
Drinking well tonight, Brother? [ Aegon remarks across the table as Aemond lifts his second cup of wine. Annoyed as he takes a more meager sip before putting the filled cup back down. He only needs to make it through whatβ¦an hour?]
( The King not joining them is a blessing that she is thankful for and will thank the Gods for once she is in the silent sanctuary of her chambers. It feels selfish and wrong to thank them for such a thing, but after her adulterous and sinful act with Aemond, Alicent fears she will be crushed under the weight of guilt from seeing her husband.
There should be more guilt and the need for penance, but as her gaze remains locked with Aemond's, she finds herself unable to feel complete remorse for her actions or regret for him touching and sullying her.
Bringing her own glass to her lips, a gentle smile forms behind it before she takes a long pull from it. It is enough to bring a light to her eyes, making the corners of them crinkle with a delight and life that has been absent from her features for so long.
The press of the glass to her lips touches against a tender spot that has bruised from their lips hard and desperate against the others. As she sets the glass down, she brings a hand to her lips, softly tracing out the spot with the tip of a finger β all while her eyes remain on him.
That is until Aemond and Helaena are announced when the door thuds open, making Alicent's head swing towards it in a flurry of auburn curls, and her hand immediately drops from her lips to offer them both a delighted greeting of her own.
After the prayer and the food beings being passed, Alicent speaks up, )
Aemond has agreed to accompany me to Oldtown to visit your brother, Daeron, and my uncle, Ormund. It would be good if you could join us, Helaena, but I understand that the restless age that makes traveling difficult.
( Helaena nods. ) I agree, though it would be wise to take them on tour when they are older.
When the King cannot attend and in my absence, your grandfather will head the small council meetings in my stead. I believe it wise if you attend them, Aegon, to better understand how they are run and conducted.
It is a moons travel by carriage to Oldtown; therefore, we should be gone no more than three.
[ Aemondβs steely mood is easy to overlook. He only engages in table conversation when it suits. Cutting into roast and plucking currants into his mouth. Occasionally following the table side conversation with a careful glance each way. Seemingly focused, if not a little more tense than normal. Secretly finding it absolutely ridiculous that merely looking in his motherβs direction whenever she touches her lips could send his thoughts into a tailspin.
And then there is Aegon, a sobering thing to look at in the moment. Looking absolutely miserable to agree to the terms of the queenβs absence. If there is nothing he hates more than trying to perform any semblance of duty. Aemondβs lips purse in annoyance, for he would have leapt at such an opportunity.
Not that the alternative seems incredibly horrible otherwise. On the contraryβ
Aemondβs head whips back to look at his mother. Three moons? Alone with her. After this?]
That is more time spent in a carriage than enjoying the destination, is it not? [ He speaks at last, turning idly the olive not yet eaten but trapped between his fingers. He speaks only to call out the redundancy that would seem obvious. Unless thatβs what she wants. All that time alone with him. Looking at her as though trying to dissect the answer from her expression alone.]
It is, but it is the fastest way β ( for her as she is no dragon rider and would never dream of attempting to ride pillion on one of those beasts. So her thoughts go to the only methods of transportation that she has ever used; by carriage and by sea.
Distracted by his thoughts and having excused himself, Aemond was not privy to the conversation Alicent had with Otto in discussing the trip to Oldtown. A discussion that happened before β well, everything that has transpired since breakfast.
It would look strange to go back on it now, especially since she told her father she would talk with her son about it during supper. There is still time to change plans, but they need to keep up appearances to not draw suspicion toward them. )
If being away for such an extended time is of concern, someone else could escort me if you prefer.
( Is there a challenge in her voice and the way her brow raises before her gaze drops to her plate, cutting off a piece of baked pear, dipping it in sugar and butter glaze before bringing it to her mouth with her fork and looking at him again? Almost questioning. Or is she giving him a way out, so he doesn't have to be trapped with her for three moons? )
[ It is not the fastest way. Aemond continues to fiddle with the olive in his hand. He could not propose it now. Even though it would be obvious of him to. Preferable to riding dragon back than in a carriage. Though Aemond would take any excuse to be in the sky. Feel the power of a dragon aloft between his legs.
To take her, however, sounds unquestionable. For something she never took an interest in. To be clinging to his back for hours on end. Wind whipping through her hair. A few days journey at most. Far less than a moonβs but potentially twice as harrowing a journey for a queen who never ridden. Carriage would seem to be the only way.
A best passes where he holds his motherβs gaze. Finally popping the olive in his mouth while he contemplates her meaning. It would be unsporting of him to say no either way. He has no duties to uphold here other than his own interests. There would be nothing to expect of him than to accompany the Queen should she so choose. ]
No. There is no issue from me. [ Aemond answers at last, shuffling in his chair as he washes his mouth with wine. Not sounding entirely pleased or displeased, pushing through the conversation as a means to an end of them. So that his mind may remain swirling. To think be alone in her company for that long. ]
Are we to arrive for Daeronβs nameday, then? [ He asks, belatedly now putting more to the conversation he might have missed in the morning. It would mean the time left before they would need to leave. Which to say, for a moonβs journey, does not leave for much time.
( Of all the things to keep his idle hands busy, he has to fixate on that bloody olive. It's enough to have her own thoughts briefly spiraling β back pressed firmly against his chest, the feeling of his hand cupping her breast while his other travels gown her stomach β gods be good. The last thing she needs is to be plagued by these thoughts at supper, with her family, of all places.
Bringing her glass to her lips, Alicent takes a long pull, nearly draining the cup before putting it down. Thankful that he's no longer toying with his food and hoping her thoughts will cease from venturing when they were. )
It is settled then; Aemond will join me in traveling to Oldtown.
( What would they do with that time alone, being forced in the close confines of a carriage for a moon? Would they pretend that nothing had happened? Ignore one another or engage in polite conversation while ignoring the mammoth in the room, or try to take advantage of the opportunity given to them?
Just the thought of such an opportunity, of being alone ( or as alone as they can be ) with little to no interruption for that long, leaves her distractingly aching once more. )
Yes, we would be arriving in time for his name day. There is enough time to prepare and get your affairs in order before our departure.
( She isn't sure how much preparation her father has made, but it sounded like this morning was the birth of the plans, so ravens still need to be exchanged and preparations on each side made. )
[ It is a long time to be alone. But what choice does he have to make right now? A noise of agreement rests in his throat, picking at his food again as a means of distraction. And no longer focused on the delicate way she plucks slices of pear from her fork. Avoiding her bruised lips. How could he make a moonβs journey when he can barely make it through dinner?
Aemond looks up at Aegon sneering. At what precisely, the younger brother does not know. Perhaps something akin to his predicament. Or the usual hurled insults that would accuse him of being his motherβs favorite. Itβs not as if the bar is particularly high.
Aemond shifts his leg under the table. Aegon bounces his knee against the bottom of it, rattling the dishes upside. Aemond smiles, and plucks a couple currants off a stem between his teeth. ]
Iβd like to take Vhagar. [ He announces before chewing. A bold request, he knows. But it might help to cut the tension. In case things turn out to be irreversible between them. Shrouded in quiet uncomfortable agony. A wooden cage. For days. When instead he could simply fly, it would still be escorting. Besides: ]
( It wasn't for lack of trying, and she still tries, but Aegon's lust for self-indulgence has always taken priority over everything. Alicent has tried her best to shape and groom him into the man and King she wishes to see sit on the Iron Throne, but he has never taken an interest in anything she has tried teaching him. If it weren't for the constant fear looming over her and her family and what Rhaenyra may do once queen, would she have given up on him and allowed him to live the life of depravity he craves?
Sensing the tension building on the other side of the table, Alicent glances at her sons, a pleading look on her face as she silently begs them to behave before turning back to her plate.
There is the grating sound of her fork and knife against the plate as she cuts into a piece of meat when Aemond mentions bringing Vhagar.
Pulling her lips between her teeth, Alicent sets her cutlery down before drawing a sharp, deep breath through her nose and letting it out before looking at him. There is an annoyance in her look, one that speaks to question why he wants to bring that beast with him, and just as she's about to speak, mouth poised to say something, she thinks better and closes her mouth.
Her brows furrow for a moment in thought, chewing on the inside of her cheek, her hands coming together as her interlaced them together β smoothing fingers over knuckles. A single side glance to her father, she relents, body visibly relaxing as she leans her cheek on the one hand. )
It will be a long journey, but if you wish to bring her, I have no reason to object.
( He has a point; it would be good for Daeron to have a riding partner, and she imagines being away from his dragon for such an extended time would be difficult. They have an attachment, a bond she will never understand or experience, but she will try to understand better than she has and will try putting in an effort. )
[Aemond does not hold her gaze while she contemplates it. He focuses on clearing his plate with the general aloofness that would suggest he asked for something simple like an extra pillow in his carriage.
Given how large his dragon is and how long a journey it would be, he is not humble in his asking. Given her lack of interest and nary even a visit as they were trained in the dragon pit. She was no Targaryen. He continues to eat while noting her shift from the corner of his eye. Instead, he looks to Aegon across the table. Both boys mutually behaving, but their locked gazes speak otherwise.
When she finally relents, his lips curl into a small smile. Gaze dropping to his plate as it continues to grow. The old beast needs to stretch her wings more and it'd be good to have her to help break up the time along the journey. Giving him an out without taking it completely to have her mother see this journey alone, or at the least stuck in only her sworn sword's company.]
Thank you, mother. [ The young prince looks up from his plate to her. Pleased and warm under the soft undertone of his voice. Perhaps innocent to the rest of the table, but there is something subtle and tainted in the way he addresses her. After all, the last time he addressed her in such a way he was trying not to moan it.
His plate is cleared, dabbing away at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Parts of which felt equally bruising. He wonders briefly if she should try to approach her tonight or let it be. Or was the thought of him simply just the addles of an over-eager youth needing to dig his mind out of the pit. Either way, his duty has been performed for the evening as he casts aside his napkin to excuse himself. ] I'll begin the preparations early on the morrow.
( Though she may not understand dragons the way her children do, she does understand them on another level. They hog resources to be fed and properly maintained. Multiply that by the number of beasts they have at their disposal; it is a heavy levy on the Crown's coffers. Many a discussion has been had regarding the dragons, and they are a powerful resource despite how much of a burden they can be β the more dragons one has, the more powerful they are.
As well-behaved as they appear outwardly, being their mother, she knows their looks and feels the tension between her two sons. One that grows under that smug grin slithering across Aemond's face. She can head it now, how she's playing favorites and loves him more than Aemond.
It isn't that she loves any of her children more than the others; it just seems that she now holds a different type of love for Aemond.
Mother. Gods, that word will be the end of her every time it leaves his lips. Pointed and purposely tainted to prod at her, to get a reaction despite how innocent it sounds.
The action he manages to goad out of her is subtle β her chest stops moving as her breath catches in her throat, but the pendant on her necklace vibrates and shifts with how hard her heart pounds within her chest as she looks at him. It takes her a moment to remember where she is and to breathe; when she does, a shiver runs through her spine, something she blames on a cooking summer breeze from an open window.
She dismisses him with a nod, turning her attention back to her plate to finish it and whatever conversation might linger with her father before eventually excusing herself once it's just the two of them that remain. The Hand offers to escort the Queen to her chambers, but she declines, saying that he has much ahead of him with preparation and she shouldn't keep him.
Alone, she starts her ascent to her apartments. Hopeful and terrified of who she might run into along the way, wondering if he had his fill of her, if he would want more, or if it was a fleeting weakness. He was purged of his sins, and she left with them, but if anyone were to bear the weight of such corruption, it should be the mother.
Once at her apartments, she wishes Ser Criston a good night, closes the door behind her, and begins preparing for bed. Removing her ornaments and jewelry, she sets them atop her vanity and, with the help of Talya, removes her dress and slips into a thin sleeping gown, one with a silken fabric that if barely there, with a green robe over the top. Dismissing her lady-in-waiting, Alicent sits and brushes her hair, allowing her thoughts to wander where they shouldn't. She tried to read afterward, but couldn't, thoughts leaving her throbbing with want and distracted, so she tried to sleep it off.
If she has no visitor in the night, she sleeps it through but plans to visit the Dragon Pit come morning. )
[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. ]
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A serving girl appears at his shoulder to fill his cup, drawing his attention away when her attention falls back to him. His head is not down as it was when they broke fast. Lips pressed together in a fine line to stifle an unsurprised grunt at the news that the King would not join them. Itβs more of a blessing tonight if all nights.
Aemond drinks from his cup, using it as a means to look over. Only this time he does catch his motherβs eye. Unsure exactly what to do, he holds it for what feels an impossibly long moment. Nearly draining his cup in the process. What is she thinking?
The doors jostle open as Aegon is announced through shortly followed by Helaena. The Hand makes a noise of delighted surprise that they have been graced by a nearly full table this evening.
By the jaunt in his elder brotherβs step, he has already had a fill of wine before taking seat at the table. Aemond grimaces as he swallows, setting his cup down to be immediately refilled. Back stiff as the last of trays are set at the table.]
Drinking well tonight, Brother? [ Aegon remarks across the table as Aemond lifts his second cup of wine. Annoyed as he takes a more meager sip before putting the filled cup back down. He only needs to make it through whatβ¦an hour?]
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There should be more guilt and the need for penance, but as her gaze remains locked with Aemond's, she finds herself unable to feel complete remorse for her actions or regret for him touching and sullying her.
Bringing her own glass to her lips, a gentle smile forms behind it before she takes a long pull from it. It is enough to bring a light to her eyes, making the corners of them crinkle with a delight and life that has been absent from her features for so long.
The press of the glass to her lips touches against a tender spot that has bruised from their lips hard and desperate against the others. As she sets the glass down, she brings a hand to her lips, softly tracing out the spot with the tip of a finger β all while her eyes remain on him.
That is until Aemond and Helaena are announced when the door thuds open, making Alicent's head swing towards it in a flurry of auburn curls, and her hand immediately drops from her lips to offer them both a delighted greeting of her own.
After the prayer and the food beings being passed, Alicent speaks up, )
Aemond has agreed to accompany me to Oldtown to visit your brother, Daeron, and my uncle, Ormund. It would be good if you could join us, Helaena, but I understand that the restless age that makes traveling difficult.
( Helaena nods. ) I agree, though it would be wise to take them on tour when they are older.
When the King cannot attend and in my absence, your grandfather will head the small council meetings in my stead. I believe it wise if you attend them, Aegon, to better understand how they are run and conducted.
It is a moons travel by carriage to Oldtown; therefore, we should be gone no more than three.
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And then there is Aegon, a sobering thing to look at in the moment. Looking absolutely miserable to agree to the terms of the queenβs absence. If there is nothing he hates more than trying to perform any semblance of duty. Aemondβs lips purse in annoyance, for he would have leapt at such an opportunity.
Not that the alternative seems incredibly horrible otherwise. On the contraryβ
Aemondβs head whips back to look at his mother. Three moons? Alone with her. After this?]
That is more time spent in a carriage than enjoying the destination, is it not? [ He speaks at last, turning idly the olive not yet eaten but trapped between his fingers. He speaks only to call out the redundancy that would seem obvious. Unless thatβs what she wants. All that time alone with him. Looking at her as though trying to dissect the answer from her expression alone.]
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Distracted by his thoughts and having excused himself, Aemond was not privy to the conversation Alicent had with Otto in discussing the trip to Oldtown. A discussion that happened before β well, everything that has transpired since breakfast.
It would look strange to go back on it now, especially since she told her father she would talk with her son about it during supper. There is still time to change plans, but they need to keep up appearances to not draw suspicion toward them. )
If being away for such an extended time is of concern, someone else could escort me if you prefer.
( Is there a challenge in her voice and the way her brow raises before her gaze drops to her plate, cutting off a piece of baked pear, dipping it in sugar and butter glaze before bringing it to her mouth with her fork and looking at him again? Almost questioning. Or is she giving him a way out, so he doesn't have to be trapped with her for three moons? )
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To take her, however, sounds unquestionable. For something she never took an interest in. To be clinging to his back for hours on end. Wind whipping through her hair. A few days journey at most. Far less than a moonβs but potentially twice as harrowing a journey for a queen who never ridden. Carriage would seem to be the only way.
A best passes where he holds his motherβs gaze. Finally popping the olive in his mouth while he contemplates her meaning. It would be unsporting of him to say no either way. He has no duties to uphold here other than his own interests. There would be nothing to expect of him than to accompany the Queen should she so choose. ]
No. There is no issue from me. [ Aemond answers at last, shuffling in his chair as he washes his mouth with wine. Not sounding entirely pleased or displeased, pushing through the conversation as a means to an end of them. So that his mind may remain swirling. To think be alone in her company for that long. ]
Are we to arrive for Daeronβs nameday, then? [ He asks, belatedly now putting more to the conversation he might have missed in the morning. It would mean the time left before they would need to leave. Which to say, for a moonβs journey, does not leave for much time.
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Bringing her glass to her lips, Alicent takes a long pull, nearly draining the cup before putting it down. Thankful that he's no longer toying with his food and hoping her thoughts will cease from venturing when they were. )
It is settled then; Aemond will join me in traveling to Oldtown.
( What would they do with that time alone, being forced in the close confines of a carriage for a moon? Would they pretend that nothing had happened? Ignore one another or engage in polite conversation while ignoring the mammoth in the room, or try to take advantage of the opportunity given to them?
Just the thought of such an opportunity, of being alone ( or as alone as they can be ) with little to no interruption for that long, leaves her distractingly aching once more. )
Yes, we would be arriving in time for his name day. There is enough time to prepare and get your affairs in order before our departure.
( She isn't sure how much preparation her father has made, but it sounded like this morning was the birth of the plans, so ravens still need to be exchanged and preparations on each side made. )
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Aemond looks up at Aegon sneering. At what precisely, the younger brother does not know. Perhaps something akin to his predicament. Or the usual hurled insults that would accuse him of being his motherβs favorite. Itβs not as if the bar is particularly high.
Aemond shifts his leg under the table. Aegon bounces his knee against the bottom of it, rattling the dishes upside. Aemond smiles, and plucks a couple currants off a stem between his teeth. ]
Iβd like to take Vhagar. [ He announces before chewing. A bold request, he knows. But it might help to cut the tension. In case things turn out to be irreversible between them. Shrouded in quiet uncomfortable agony. A wooden cage. For days. When instead he could simply fly, it would still be escorting. Besides: ]
Daeron might enjoy a flying partner for a change.
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Sensing the tension building on the other side of the table, Alicent glances at her sons, a pleading look on her face as she silently begs them to behave before turning back to her plate.
There is the grating sound of her fork and knife against the plate as she cuts into a piece of meat when Aemond mentions bringing Vhagar.
Pulling her lips between her teeth, Alicent sets her cutlery down before drawing a sharp, deep breath through her nose and letting it out before looking at him. There is an annoyance in her look, one that speaks to question why he wants to bring that beast with him, and just as she's about to speak, mouth poised to say something, she thinks better and closes her mouth.
Her brows furrow for a moment in thought, chewing on the inside of her cheek, her hands coming together as her interlaced them together β smoothing fingers over knuckles. A single side glance to her father, she relents, body visibly relaxing as she leans her cheek on the one hand. )
It will be a long journey, but if you wish to bring her, I have no reason to object.
( He has a point; it would be good for Daeron to have a riding partner, and she imagines being away from his dragon for such an extended time would be difficult. They have an attachment, a bond she will never understand or experience, but she will try to understand better than she has and will try putting in an effort. )
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Given how large his dragon is and how long a journey it would be, he is not humble in his asking. Given her lack of interest and nary even a visit as they were trained in the dragon pit. She was no Targaryen. He continues to eat while noting her shift from the corner of his eye. Instead, he looks to Aegon across the table. Both boys mutually behaving, but their locked gazes speak otherwise.
When she finally relents, his lips curl into a small smile. Gaze dropping to his plate as it continues to grow. The old beast needs to stretch her wings more and it'd be good to have her to help break up the time along the journey. Giving him an out without taking it completely to have her mother see this journey alone, or at the least stuck in only her sworn sword's company.]
Thank you, mother. [ The young prince looks up from his plate to her. Pleased and warm under the soft undertone of his voice. Perhaps innocent to the rest of the table, but there is something subtle and tainted in the way he addresses her. After all, the last time he addressed her in such a way he was trying not to moan it.
His plate is cleared, dabbing away at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Parts of which felt equally bruising. He wonders briefly if she should try to approach her tonight or let it be. Or was the thought of him simply just the addles of an over-eager youth needing to dig his mind out of the pit. Either way, his duty has been performed for the evening as he casts aside his napkin to excuse himself. ] I'll begin the preparations early on the morrow.
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As well-behaved as they appear outwardly, being their mother, she knows their looks and feels the tension between her two sons. One that grows under that smug grin slithering across Aemond's face. She can head it now, how she's playing favorites and loves him more than Aemond.
It isn't that she loves any of her children more than the others; it just seems that she now holds a different type of love for Aemond.
Mother. Gods, that word will be the end of her every time it leaves his lips. Pointed and purposely tainted to prod at her, to get a reaction despite how innocent it sounds.
The action he manages to goad out of her is subtle β her chest stops moving as her breath catches in her throat, but the pendant on her necklace vibrates and shifts with how hard her heart pounds within her chest as she looks at him. It takes her a moment to remember where she is and to breathe; when she does, a shiver runs through her spine, something she blames on a cooking summer breeze from an open window.
She dismisses him with a nod, turning her attention back to her plate to finish it and whatever conversation might linger with her father before eventually excusing herself once it's just the two of them that remain. The Hand offers to escort the Queen to her chambers, but she declines, saying that he has much ahead of him with preparation and she shouldn't keep him.
Alone, she starts her ascent to her apartments. Hopeful and terrified of who she might run into along the way, wondering if he had his fill of her, if he would want more, or if it was a fleeting weakness. He was purged of his sins, and she left with them, but if anyone were to bear the weight of such corruption, it should be the mother.
Once at her apartments, she wishes Ser Criston a good night, closes the door behind her, and begins preparing for bed. Removing her ornaments and jewelry, she sets them atop her vanity and, with the help of Talya, removes her dress and slips into a thin sleeping gown, one with a silken fabric that if barely there, with a green robe over the top. Dismissing her lady-in-waiting, Alicent sits and brushes her hair, allowing her thoughts to wander where they shouldn't. She tried to read afterward, but couldn't, thoughts leaving her throbbing with want and distracted, so she tried to sleep it off.
If she has no visitor in the night, she sleeps it through but plans to visit the Dragon Pit come morning. )
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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'M SORRY THIS GOT WORDY
lololol
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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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