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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years ago

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The Shielded Heart - Part One

Warnings: Smut, Angst Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Aemond is yours and you are his, but what happens when you're both forced to choose between duty and true love?

“Avy jorrāelan, vēzos qēlossās ñuho”, Aemond whispered against the shell of your ear. I love you, my sun and stars. The fingertips of his left hand traced the line of your jaw softly, as he stared down at you, supporting his weight above you with his right.

You giggled, the grass of the hillside you lay upon soft against your back, a stark contrast to the weight of the emotion held within the depths of Aemond’s lilac coloured eye as he gazed upon you. You held the prince close to you, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist, while the fingers of the other toyed lazily with the clasps on his tunic. “I wish I knew what you were saying when you speak to me in your mother tongue,” you admitted wistfully.

A quiet “mmm” rumbled its way through Aemond’s chest as he bumped his nose against yours. “One day I will teach you.” He promised.

Truthfully, confessing his feelings and deepest desires to you was far easier when you couldn’t comprehend his words. The thought of telling you his entire world held you at its center, and entertaining the possibility that you may not feel the same, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. It was more than he could endure. And so praises and fond declarations were uttered without understanding during your many trysts.

You gasped, arching up into his body as his knee pushed upwards to part your thighs, nudging against your most intimate of areas.

Capturing your lips in a searing kiss, Aemond trailed his hand from your jaw to cup your breast through your bodice. “Jaelan ao” he muttered against your lips. I want you. He was desperate to have you fully; mind, soul and body, yet he wouldn’t dare defile you outside of wedlock. He’d kissed, tasted and touched every part of your body, yet never attempted to breach your maidenhood, despite your urgent and wickedly tempting pleas for him to do so every time you found yourselves alone together.

“Aemond, please,” you whined piteously, grinding down against his thigh, desperate for any kind of release. “I don’t give a shit about my virtue!”

“Then you are lucky that I do”, he purred against the skin of your neck, his tongue laved along the soft skin of your throat, “Skori iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys eminna jemome.” When you are my wife I will have all of you.

It had never been a doubt in Aemond’s mind that the pair of you would one day be married. He’d loved you for as long as he could remember. You were sent as a ward by your house when you were a child, a playmate for his younger sister Helaena, but he’d instantly been enamoured by you. You were the only person besides his mother and sister to show him kindness when his own nephews and brother presented him with a pig in place of a dragon as a cruel joke. You didn’t treat him any differently following his disfigurement at the hands of Lucerys. Looking back, falling in love with you had been the easiest thing in the world. Actually saying the words aloud, however, proved rather more difficult.

He remembered fondly, a moon’s turn after he’d claimed Vhagar and lost his eye, you’d approached him shyly, a piece of fabric clutched tightly in your hands.

“I made this for you,” you offered, outstretching your hands to present what was held within them.

Aemond’s mouth had hung agape in wonder. An intricate needlepoint of his beloved dragon was stitched into the fabric. Every minute detail of her captured skillfully in thread.

“You made this? For me?” he’d asked, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

You’d nodded, smiling sweetly. “I hope you like it.”

“Nyke jorrāelagon ziry, Avy jorrāelan.” He’d whispered. I love it, I love you. He’d kept the needlepoint and to this day it was still one of his most treasured possessions.

From that point onwards, he’d found any excuse to be close to you. Sharing his favourite books with you, inviting you to watch him train with the sword, asking you to join him when he went on rides with Vhagar. Your presence was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough.

All of this you did eagerly. You longed to be near to Aemond and cherished any time you spent together. As your friendship grew, so did your feelings for the one eyed prince.

Your young fragile heart had broken upon finding out that Aegon had taken Aemond to a pleasure house in the Silk Streets on his thirteenth name day. It was as though a dirty blemish had been placed upon your friendship, ugly and glaring.

“That is so…so disgusting, Aemond,” you’d whispered, not trusting your voice not to crack should you try to speak with more volume. Your eyes burned with unshed tears. You hadn’t known it then but the fiery ache that burned deep within your chest was an acrid mixture of jealousy and betrayal, a ghost of it should have been me displaying itself as disapproval.

“I didn’t want to do it, Aegon made me”, he’d retorted, his tone laced with hurt, he’d reached timidly for your hand “Kostilus shijetra nyke.” Please forgive me.

“I can’t understand you!” you’d shouted, jerking away from him and back to your chambers, tears flowing freely.

You hadn’t spoken for three days after that and your absence made Aemond utterly miserable. He’d have burned that wretched whorehouse to the ground if only to see you smile again.

He’d happened upon you on one of the spiral stone staircases in the Red Keep, clutching your knee and sniffling.

“What happened?” he asked, full of concern as he stooped to look at your tear stained face.

“I slipped,” you hiccupped through tears, “My knee…I…”

He’d gently coaxed your hands away, gingerly lifting your skirts to inspect the injured appendage. A nasty looking scrape, bright red and angry looking immediately made itself apparent.

“I’ll help you to the maester”, he’d offered, holding a hand out to you.

His heart had soared at how tightly you’d gripped his hand. “Kostilus māzigon arlī naejot nyke” he’d said softly as the maester applied ointment to your scraped knee. Please come back to me.

You’d pulled Aemond into a tight hug after he’d walked you back to your chambers. “Thank you”, you’d whispered to him.

Your friendship had resumed as normal without issue from that point, until a few days after your sixteenth name day.

The icy winds tousled your hair wildly, your stomach flipping as Vhagar soared above the clouds. You sat astride her saddle, holding tightly to her reigns. Aemond sat snugly behind you, arms circling your waist. A sudden jolt had made you squeal, you turned your face back towards Aemond, a beaming smile tugging at your lips. You’d bumped noses, not realising just how close he was to you and he’d pressed a tentative kiss to your lips. You’d parted, sharing a longing stare, before diving back in, this time needier and filled with inexperienced passion as his large hand cupped your cheek possessively.

Your relationship had blossomed that day. Your easy friendship became hushed whispers, giggles and kisses stolen in empty corridors. Your rides on Vhagar took you to isolated spots where you could explore and enjoy each other’s bodies unhindered.

You’d managed to keep your love affair a secret, although Aegon had offered a knowing smirk each time he’d seen you and Aemond heading away from the Red Keep in your riding gear. Aemond wanted to slap the look from his older brother’s face. He knew nothing. Aemond would never treat you with the brazen disrespect that Aegon reserved for Helaena and his countless whores.

It was a ride on Vhagar that had brought you to this grassy hillside, laying in each other’s arms.

Your eyes grew heavy with the lateness of the afternoon, as the sun began its slow descent downwards.

“We should go back”, you said softly, pecking your lover on the lips.

“Jaelan naejot umbagon hae bisa va moriot”, he mumbled petulantly, hiding his face in your neck. I want to stay like this always.

“Aemond!” you scolded playfully, nudging his leg with your foot.

“Fine, fine!” he finally relented, untangling from your embrace and standing, offering a hand to help you up.

You both dressed and mounted Vhagar. It was almost dark by the time you reached the Red Keep. Consciously, the pair of you parted to keep a distance deemed suitable as you entered the main hall.

“Father?!” you said shocked, as the familiar figure rose from the table to greet you.

“My beloved daughter”, he smiled, reaching out to take your hands in his, “I had hoped you’d be here when I arrived, alas I have had to wait. I have exciting news for you.”

Your heart thumped heavily in your chest as he spoke. Since you’d become a ward of the Targaryen/Hightower household your father had rarely visited. You’d wager that your definition of “exciting news” would differ greatly from his.

“But first, perhaps a bath? I can smell you’ve been on dragon back!” he exclaimed, wrinkling his nose.

You looked worriedly at Aemond as your departed from the hall. His eye was downcast, but the look of concern etched across his features was unmistakable to you.

Dinner was being served as you emerged from your chambers, freshly washed and changed into a new gown. You felt nauseated as you pushed your food around your plate. When the idle chatter around the table became too much for you to bear, you laid down your fork, turning to your father.

“You said you had news, father?”

“Ah, yes!” he smiled, snatching up his wine goblet, “A toast! To my darling daughter and her betrothal to Jason Lannister!”

Your mouth fell agape as your blood ran cold. You’d stopped breathing. Your eyes instantly found Aemond’s, the look of shock and upset in his bright purple iris mirrored your exact feelings.

“Father, no! I don’t want this!” you protested, trying to keep your voice level and failing miserably.

“Foolish girl,” he chastised, “You can’t remain a ward of House Targaryen forever and we need to strengthen our allies for Aegon’s claim to the throne. Your marriage to House Lannister will bring them on side.”

It was apparent there was nothing you could say to sway the decision that had been made. The silence around the table was deafening, as all eyes were upon you, awaiting a reaction.

“I see…” you said slowly, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave, I’m suddenly feeling unwell.”

The chair legs scraped loudly against the flagstones as you stood, walking swiftly from the hall without looking back.

“Mother, did you know about this?” Aemond questioned Alicent. He’d immediately sought her out once dinner was over, desperate for answers regarding your sudden betrothal.

She eyed him carefully, wringing her hands at the worried lines etched into her youngest son’s brow. “I did” she said simply.

“How can you let this happen?!” he demanded.

“I have no daughters to offer House Lannister, as you well know”, she sighed, absent mindedly picking her nails, “Helaena is married to Aegon. The next best thing we could offer is a ward of our house.”

“But…” he stopped, thinking over his next words carefully, he’d never said them aloud before, at least not in the common tongue, “I’m in love with her, mother. I had hoped to marry her.”

“I know, sweet boy”, Alicent said sympathetically, grasping his forearms in a tender gesture of comfort, “But she is betrothed to someone else.”

Aemond cast his eye downwards, feeling bile rise in his throat. “I have lost my eye to my nephew, both my sister and the crown to my brother and now I’m to lose the woman I love to a fucking Lannister.”

To someone who didn’t know better, Aemond’s tone would have sounded insolent and angry, however, Alicent could sense in his voice the tears he held back and her heart broke for him. “Think of your family, Aemond. I know this hurts now, but it is for the good of our family. This needs to happen. Please learn to accept it and be happy for her. It will be easier for everyone.”

Aemond nodded curtly, withdrawing his arms from her hands and exiting the room.

Your eyes felt raw from the tears you’d shed since fleeing the dinner table. You desperately craved the comfort that only Aemond could provide. None of this felt real. Once you were certain everyone in the Keep would be abed, you snuck from your room making your way to Aemond’s.

As you’d suspected he would be, Aemond was still awake. He sat in a chair in his study, obviously lost in thought as he watched the flames in the fireplace burn low.

“Aemond.” You whispered, approaching him cautiously, not wanting to startle him.

He turned to you, rising from his chair and you ran to him, clinging to him desperately.

“Aemond, I can’t marry Jason fucking Lannister. Please, we can run away together?”

You parted from him, looking at him questioningly when his arms didn’t move to wrap around you.

“Aemond?”

“You have to marry him” he said, not meeting your gaze.

“What?!” you gasped, betrayal piercing through your chest.

“For the good of the family” Alicent’s voice echoed in Aemond’s head, as he drew in a shaky breath, unable to meet the intensity of your accusatory stare.

“Please, you aren’t making any sense! I love you, Aemond. Don’t you love me?”

“Avy jorrāelan olvie hen mirros isse se vys. Iksā ñuha prūmia. Ziry kills nyke naejot tepagon ao bē” he murmured. I love you most of anything in the world. You are my heart. It kills me to give you up.

“Aemond?” you asked, your voice small.

Finally he looked at you, steeling himself to utter a lie that would break both your hearts. “No, I do not love you.”

The sob that ripped from your throat was like a dagger to Aemond’s chest and he had to fight every urge in his body to not run after you as you fled from him, weeping bitterly. If only he’d stayed true to his words of keeping you both on the hillside earlier that afternoon, then you’d still be his.

“For the good of the family”. Then why did he feel like he was dying?

Part two || Series masterlist

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