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shinynewboots · 2 years ago

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ivy / aemond x oc (Chapter 1)

Summary: “Do be careful walking the halls at night Lady Serena of House Tarbeck, there are many untrustworthy men lurking in the shadows.”

“Even you,” She asked, unable to stop herself.

A wide smirk found itself on the prince’s features. “Especially me.”

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, infidelity, angst, mourning, dubious consent, grief, alcohol

Word Count: 3.6k

AO3

Chapter 1: Oh, goddamn

Her husband was drinking. Again.

He was almost always drinking now.

Ever since the arrival of Lord Evyn Tarbeck and his wife, Lady Serena Tarbeck, to King’s Landing, there were very few times that Lord Tarbeck was without a wine goblet in his hand, surrounded by other lords making drunken deals deep into the night.

However, Serena did not mind as his personality (or lack thereof ) became more tolerable once under the hazy influence of wine.

There was nothing special about Evyn Tarbeck. He was not particularly funny or smart. His sole redeeming qualities were his occasional kindness and his ability to make drunken deals that always seemed to benefit his house greatly in the end.

Evyn, under the coaxing of his father, was convinced that he and his new wife must make for King’s Landing to represent the interests of House Tarbeck almost a fortnight after their wedding.

Serena did not mind that abrupt move as it kept her away from the leering eyes of her father in law and the judgemental eyes of her mother in law.

Serena settled into a quiet routine since the four months they had arrived in King’s Landing: Awaken. Walk the gardens. Tend to Asher (her cat). Join her husband at dinner with the other lords and ladies of the court. Attend the occasional feast or ball. Repeat.

It was at one of these feasts that Serena found herself alone on the wall, staring into the glass of wine in her hand. The festivities were in full swing. The dance floor was full and the music was loud and jovial.

Her husband was deep in his cups tonight. She knew that if she were to join him and the jovial group he surrounded himself with, he would be extra attentive. Extra kind.

His vision would blur and he would only be able to make out her light brown hair and green eyes. He would lean down to her level, his warm breath tickling her neck as he would pull her close to whisper.

“Dyanna.” He would whisper into Serena’s ear, unable to remember that he was not married to the sister he truly loved. He would only be whispering to the ghost of her replacement.

And Serena would let him whisper. Let him live out his fantasy as he was consumed in a lavender haze of love and wine. And her heart would break, as it had time and time again.

No, Serena thought, it is better I stay here.

She watched as the other ladies in the court gathered around each other, giggling and whispering as they scanned the room. Serena had tried to find a companion or two during her time at the castle, yet there were no other noble ladies with whom she had made a connection.

She found her eyes drifting along the various guests until they fell upon the shocking white hair which she had become familiar with during her time in the Capital.

Targaryen. The name itself not native Westerosi but one of Old Valyria. Serena had grown up hearing stories of the Conquest and of the Targaryen rulers but she was still taken aback almost every time she got a glimpse of them in the castle.

They are more like gods than men, Serena had heard many times growing up. And yet, Serena was not reminded of gods when she gazed upon them but faeries.

Growing up, her father had always told stories of faeries, beings too beautiful, too sharp, too perfect to be of man. The fae of the stories her father told used their charming, ethereal features for mischief and cruelty, luring men in only to play cruel tricks upon them. Something told Serena that white-haired royalty could also use their Valyrian features for similar means.

Serena broke her gaze from the Targaryen group, hoping no one noticed how long her eyes had lingered. No one could blame her though, they were all achingly beautiful.

She took a sip of her wine, waiting until she had been present an appropriate amount of time before she made her leave.

She glanced up again only to notice a shock of white hair headed straight towards her, violet eyes meeting her own.

Serena’s own eyes widened as Princess Helaena stopped in front of her. The princess gave her a soft smile.

“Mother told me I must talk to at least one guest before I am allowed to leave,” Princess Heleana declared, violet eyes wide. “I noticed you over here alone and thought to myself that you must be a particularly pleasant person to talk to.”

Serena’s eyebrows furrowed at the princess’ statement, almost positive that her mother, Queen Alicent, almost certainly would not approve of the princess’ candor.

Princess Helaena was ethereal, as all Targaryens were, however, her face was much softer than her relatives. Her violet eyes were captivating, though cloudy as though the princess peered at the world through a day dream. Her voice was soft, like a summer rain that would roll lazily along the windows of the castle in the afternoon.

Serena could not help as her eyes found themselves staring at the princess’s swollen stomach. She quickly averted her gaze, staring back at the princess, hoping her rude staring had gone unnoticed. Forgetting herself, Serena remembered who she was in the presence of and gave the princess a curtsy.

“My Princess, it is a pleasure,” Serena said, a hint of curiosity evident in her voice. “Lady Serena of House Tarbeck.”

Helaena grinned in response and grabbed Serena’s free hand. As soon as she did, a strange look appeared on her ethereal features and her violet eyes which had been cloudy now seemed to shine with a clarity Serena could not identify.

“Something tells me we are to be fast friends.” Helaena finally said after an eternity (or rather, one minute) of silence from the princess. Serena gave the princess a soft smile, somewhat unsure but excited at the prospect of finally having someone to talk to in the palace aside from her cat. Her husband was not one for conversation. Or anything at all really.

A booming laugh stole Serena from her thoughts and she looked over at its source. Somehow, at the same time, the gods had destined Serena and Heleana to make an acquaintance, their husbands had done the same.

Evyn was no longer sitting, but standing, the wine from his glass sloshing dangerously as Prince Aegon slapped him on the back, wine-stained grins on both of their faces.

“I believe our husbands have made their own acquaintance,” Serena stated, giving the Princess a tired look.

Helaena was also looking at the source of the noise, absentmindedly rubbing her swollen belly as she did. “They are both so loud. Aegon alone is boisterous enough.”

Serena laughed in agreement. “ Evyn might give the Prince a run for his coin. Especially once the night grows late.”

“I do not wish to be here for that,” Heleana admitted. Serena felt for the girl who looked as though she were about to pop. She estimated that the princess had at least another moon to go before the delivery. Having to stand and socialize in such a state was something Serena did not envy. “I do believe I will be making my leave soon if you would care to join Lady Tarbeck.”

Serena gave her husband one last glance just he grabbed the wine decanter out of the hands of a serving girl. Serena quickly turned away and placed her wine glass on a nearby table. She grabbed Heleana’s arm.

“I would enjoy that very much.”

Heleana was very eager to ask Serena questions about her life and former house, House Sarsfield. She asked about the Westerlands and for Serena to describe its landscape in the most perfect detail she could. She asked Serena about the insects she had encountered growing up in the Westerlands.

Serena found a familiar soul in Heleana, who she was learning was existing in as much, if not more, loneliness than she.

Heleana finally found herself fatigued, the state of her condition catching up with her. She bid Serena goodnight with the promise that she would send for tea in the afternoon. Serena responded with a grin that she found herself keeping as she walked back to her and her husband’s quarters.

Upon arrival, she was met with the knowing yellow stare of her cat, Asher.

Asher was a handsome, young cat with thick fur as black as night. He had been Serena’s closest companion ever since he presented her with a large rat, almost the size of him at the time as he had been a small kitten, some five years ago. He was a good listener and attentive. Sometimes she felt as though he understood her, giving his judgment through glowing yellow eyes, a sarcastic meow, or a bored yawn.

If only her husband was as attentive as her cat.

She bent down and gave the Asher gentle pets. Rumbling purrs could be heard from deep within the cat’s chest. Serena smiled softly at him.

She stood from her position and readied herself for bed. She knew Evyn would not be returning until early morning and thus it was fruitless to stay awake waiting on him.

She lay in bed, pleasantly surprised to find the maid had left a bed warmer in anticipation of the cool night ahead. She closed her eyes, allowing the darkness and thoughtlessness of sleep to take her.

And yet sleep did not take her as she lay awake, Asher cuddled against her head. Even his deafening purrs were unable to drown out the thoughts racing in Serena’s mind.

She could not help but think of Princess Heleana and her swollen belly. It was not necessarily jealousy Serena felt. It’s not as though the idea of having Evyn Tarbeck’s child fills me with joy.

It was inadequacy. That was the only way Serena could describe it. She did not necessarily even crave motherhood (especially when coming to terms that she might one day birth a replica of Evyn. Boring Evyn Tarbeck).

It was the idea that her husband could not look at her without wishing she was someone else. And not even some stranger that Serena could not even imagine, but her younger sister Dyanna.

Dyannna.

Dyanna had been beautiful, with sparkling green eyes and hair the color of straw. She was the favorite of the two Sarsfield sisters and the most beautiful. Even Serena knew this to be true.

Serena had loved her dearly.

She could still the ghost of her sister’s hand in her own when she thought of her for too long. Dyanna had always had the softest hands that she had moisturized with cow’s milk twice a day. She would always offer to share with Serena, who would laugh and refuse.

“There’s no hope for my hands. My bow’s made sure of that.”

House Sarsfield’s house words were “True to the Mark”, with a green and white arrow as their sigil. Their father, who Serena was convinced was the only person who seemed to prefer her, had from a young age taught her how to shoot with a bow, leaving her hands calloused and rough in the process. Dyanna had never taken to the sport.

She remembered the first time Evyn had taken her hand and the disappointment on his face when he felt her rough palms. So different than the softness of her sister.

Serena stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts running wild.

She glanced around the dark room, willing herself to find something to focus on. Something that helped her fall into a deep slumber.

And yet she found the opposite as she glanced at the writing desk, the harsh words of her mother etched in bleeding ink into a letter.

The words “disgrace”, “unworthy”, and “ shameful” had been a few of the choice words Lady Sarsfield had left for her oldest daughter (only daughter now) to read.

You bring shame to our house and your husband’s house by not yet producing an heir. When I married your father, I knew I was expecting you by the next month….

The words her mother had left out but had surely had in mind when writing the letter were: Dyanna would be with child by now.

She would always be haunted by ghosts.

Serena huffed in frustration, stirring Asher from his slumber. He blinked his bright, yellow eyes and yawned.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered. Asher seemed to accept the apology and laid his head down once more.

Serena laid in silence for a moment more before sitting up and leaving the warm bed, her irritation with herself, her husband, and every other gods-be-damned person for the sole reason that she was not her sister.

Asher looked up once more from his slumber as Serena hatched her plan.

Evyn arrived back to their rooms in the wee hours of the morning. He stumbled as he walked in, hastily pulling at his clothes in order to soon attempt to find sweet respite in bed. He sat on the bed, pulling off his boots.

The fire was still lit in the room, giving off a warm glow though it only seemed to somewhat ward away the chilliness the night had brought.

Serena had feasted early, though that was nothing new for Evyn. Their marriage had been…quiet. He expected to feel the weight of her on the bed when he reached his hand back and yet was met with only the soft fur of her damned cat.

“Serena?” Evyn asked into the stillness of the room.

Soft movement in one of the chairs in front of the fire was his response.

Evyn looked clearly, now seeing the light brown hair of his wife.

“Serena?” He asked again, a bit more cautiously this time.

Serena stood from her chair and turned to her Lord husband, clad in nothing. Willing him to acknowledge her. Touch her. Want her.

Evyn Tarbeck could only avert his eyes, placing his head in his hands, suddenly sober at the sight of her. “Serena, I cannot.”

Serena stared back at her husband; her green eyes were unwavering in the frustration they shone. Instead of an answer, she walked towards him like a large cat stalking its prey. She approached him, still silent, and stood before his distraught form.

She placed her hands on his head, almost begging for him to look at her. He lifted his head from his hands, finally looking at his lady wife. It was not the first time he had seen her bare, and yet it might well have been with the way he breathed like a nervous boy, still green before their first whore.

This frustrated her more.

She grabbed one of his hands and despite his apprehension, she placed it upon her bare breast. Her nipples were erect not from a desire for her dear husband but due to the cool draft that permeated their chambers. “Please don’t make me beg, Evyn.”

Her eyes were soft now. Trying, willing, hoping he would perform his duty as her husband.

“Evyn, it has been five moons. Five moons since we were wed.”

She heard the whispers. She could feel their eyes on her when walked through the court, her stomach empty. No signs of a babe filling her womb.

She had received a rather nasty raven from her mother a few nights ago demanding to know why there was no proof of consummation. No proof that Serena had performed her duty as a wife of a Lord of Westeros.

Evyn pulled his hand away from her body as if burned by the touch of it. His eyes narrowed with exasperation.

“And seven moons since I lost her.”

Her.

Serena’s younger sister, Dyanna.

“And you stand here and attempt to seduce me as though you do not care about my pain, wife.”

Serena stepped back as though she had been struck.

“Your pain?” Serena’s lips twisted into something cruel and unbecoming on her otherwise plain features. “Do you think I care about your pain husband?”

Evyn’s eyes widened as he stared at the creature in front of him that seemed to resemble a spiteful harpy instead of his wife.

“I lost a sister. My dearest sister who has left a hole in my heart that will never fill and you lost what? A betrothed you knew only three moons? Dearest husband, do not dare to tell me of your pain when I have stood by your side these long months putting on appearances as a jovial newlywed when every day my heart breaks from a loss I never got to grieve and a husband who will not even show the most minute affection towards me unless he is drunk and forgets that I am not my sister.”

Serena grabbed her shift and quickly redressed, the coolness of the room no longer having its effect upon her as she burned. Evyn sat in silence, only capable of staring at the force in front of him.

“You might not hear the whispers, but I do. I live with them every day. ‘Odd Lady Tarbeck is not yet with child. You know I do not blame Lord Tarbeck, as the sister was the one with the beauty in the family.” Serena said using the same pompous voices as the ones who gossiped in court.

Evyn gave no response. Serena huffed and threw on an overcoat and her slippers, unable to stay in close quarters with her husband. She slammed the door of their room, uncaring of who heard, and made her way through the dark, cold halls of the castle.

She had no destination in mind, anger being her only guide.

Fuck Evyn Tarbeck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She was unsure how far she had gone out of the wing for the lords and ladies who stayed as guests at the castle. Every winding hallway and corned looked the same as the last.

Serena rounded a corner and quickly came face to face with a white-haired god.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Where Princess Helaena had the softness of a cherub, Prince Aemond was angular. Sharp. As if she would be cut to pieces if she got too close.

He was tall. Serena only came up to just below his shoulder. He appeared to be wearing the same clothes from the feast, though she could not accurately say as the heat of her anger still clouded her mind.

Realizing she had forgotten to breathe, she let out a shaky sigh. “My apologies my prince.”

The prince looked down, regarding her with something between annoyance towards her and annoyance towards the need to maintain propriety even in the oddest of circumstances.

“Mm.”

Serena waited for a moment for him to say something else, yet he did not. Awkwardness lingered in the air. She had heard that he was quiet. Intense. Many of the ladies in the court found him to be a dark mystery that existed in self-imposed isolation, away from the women of the court. Serena could not blame him. The ladies of the court were vultures.

She darted her eyes away from him, hoping to make a quick getaway. “If you will excuse me, my prince.”

She bowed her head down and tried to walk past him but was stopped by a rough hand grabbing at her arm. She looked down to see the prince’s slender fingers wrapped around her arm.

“My Prince,” She asked, looking up at him cautiously. His right eye was striking, a beautiful mixture of blue and violet that lacked the cloudiness that shaded Helaena’s eyes. She could see the hints of a scar peaking out from the behind eye patch of his left eye.

He finally seemed to actually see her, deciding she was interesting enough to be the receiver of his attention.

“It is rude to leave without an introduction,” He stated, his voice soft but intense. Calculating.

“Lady Serena of House Tarbeck, my prince.”

“Mm.”

The seconds passed by slowly. Serena felt frozen with the prince’s hand still wrapped around her arm.

“I am curious what a Lady is doing stalking about the castle in such a…state.” Prince Aemond finally said, slowly looking from Serena’s face down her body. Her eyes widened as she looked down to examine her own state of dress.

Her overcoat, which she had left untied in her haste, did nothing to shield the curves of her nightgown. It left very little to the imagination. Her nipples were erect from the coolness of the night and creating small peaks through the gown.

Warmth rushed to her cheeks.

Fucking Evyn Tarbeck, Serena thought.

“Just out for a bit of fresh air, my prince. I suppose in my haste my overcoat came untied.” Serena offered. Judging by the amusement in his eye, he was able to see through her weak explanation as soon as the words left her lips.

“Mm.”

Mm. If the Prince answered “Mm” to another one of my questions…I will do nothing because he is the prince but I will be very annoyed by it.

Prince Aemond looked her in the eyes once more, something unreadable brewing within his own eye. He released the grip he held on her arm.

“Do be careful walking the halls at night Lady Serena of House Tarbeck, there are many untrustworthy men lurking in the shadows.”

“Even you,” She asked, unable to stop herself. Serena, you are an idiot.

A wide smirk found itself on the prince’s features. “Especially me.”

With that, the Prince moved past Serena in a swift motion and continued on down the hall.

Serena stared after him, replying to the interaction in her mind before once again becoming aware of her open overcoat. She quickly tied the coat shut and let out a deep breath.

Fuck.

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