#jealous aegon ii targeryan

[ficzhub]

The Foreign Woman

Part 5

Aemond Targeryen x Older Myrish OC (Alexyse Majeríz)

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CW: hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, obsessive behavior, dysfunctional family, mommy issues, younger boys crush on older girl, duplicitous OC, creepy crush, jealous Aemond Targaryen, envious Aegon II Targaryen, emotional manipulation, possessive Aemond Targaryen, jealous Aegon II Targaryen, power imbalance, power dynamics, sex work, touch starved, prince/maid, bed sharing, elitism.

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Doubled

As relaxed as Aemond felt being held by his Maery for the seventh night in a row, he couldn't help but wake up a few times through the night and marvel at her face, at her closeness, at her scent that's changed slightly from when she'd first laid here and into something softer and more subtle throughout the night. She unfortunately makes sure to wake up well before the sun rises to catch Ms.Mochel before the day really began. She always kisses Aemond's forehead and leaves him tucked in his bed nice and warm before getting ready for the day to speak with her proximate. He ends up getting up not long after her, but to his regularly scheduled classes and trainings instead of following her again, despite his wish to. If he wanted to keep being someone worth his Maery's time, he can't stop doing his duties. Ser Criston Cole has begun training him alongside his older brother and the other children in the castle and its surroundings, (previously his nephews) before breaking fasts. He tries to focus as much as he can but his mind keeps trailing back to his Maery, what she would be doing now and unfortunately, for who? Where in the castle would she be now? How long until his mother finally just sets her with just him permanently so he doesn't have to share her attention?

"You seem distracted, brother." Aegon says quietly by his right, watching Ser Cole and Ser Willis dueling.

Aemond looks up at him to see his annoying, smug smirk. "Is someone on your mind?"

Aemond refuses to indulge his brother's taunts with a response, Aegon didn't need to know about Maery or if there's anything else clouding him.

Unfortunately for him, Aegon is now more than intrigued with the very effective maid. It's not as though he had been blind. The girl's beautiful, striking even. Her dark curls barely staying under her bonnet in the braid often coming somewhat undone through the day and framing her round face with the fallen pieces. Her tawny skin contrasting with her doe-like black eyes, dark lashes and eyebrows, the pink pout of her full lips. He suspects she's Dornish, one of their bastards perhaps though he can't match her accent to any he'd met.

He'd watch her now when Aemond couldn't, see her changing their linens, bending over the bed to secure the corners, preparing the oils for their baths, still getting her milk from the ranch hand in the back of the castle despite his grievous injuries curtesy of Aemond, not that anyone else knew that. But what gives him the most enjoyment is the same thing that wounds his insides. He watches as she makes her way back to his little brother's room faithfully every night for a week now and coddles him, dotes on him, asks him about his day and holds him tenderly until he falls asleep with his face pressed against her ample busom, wrapping his arms around her middle to make sure she doesn't get away from him.

It's not that he doesn't want his brother to have the comfort he needs, he's glad he does. It makes him feel less guilty about his teasing. It's that he'd kill for just a taste of the same. He doesn't know when she leaves, but never asks a single thing of Aemond as she holds him, never scolds him, only gently corrects if he ever says or does anything wrong. She hums him sweet songs and grazes her fingers over his head and his back, he imagines Aemond has never slept better while Aegon hasn't slept well without milk of the poppy since he was seven. Why must it be only Aemond that gets to experience the genuine comfort and care of a beautiful woman? Why can't he get anyone to care for him like that? Why can no one show him even a second of love without expecting anything in return? She even dotes on Daeron and Helaena, on occasion. Well, as much as one can dote on Helaena.

The second night he saw "Maery" doing that for his brother, he decided he'd ask for that the next day at the brothel. He'd go alone, without his mates and see what had him longing so badly for the girl. He went inside, had one of the girls do exactly what he asked her to do but having to get up, with her acting so clinically afterwards and paying for it not a minute later only had him rushing to get home and sobbing to himself in his bed, reaching for the strongest wine he could get his hands on to distract from the emptiness he felt flooded with. The transactional nature of it, the cold attitude of the whore after, how false it all felt, it left him feeling worse than when the queen strikes him or when his grandsire gives him that look of total derision and disappointment. At least he knows those feelings are real.

His mother hasn't held him the way Maery holds Aemond since he was five, she never looked at him like the maid looks at his brother, never asked him about his day, never hummed him lullabies or played with his hair. No one's ever given him that much comfort, he almost fears he'd be overwhelmed by it. Aemond was already considered much more tolerable than Aegon had ever been, but with his injury it's like everyone treats him with the utmost reverence and endearedness and respect. He'll never be as he was, but Aegon would give anything, including his eye, to be handled the way his brother is now.

"C'mon, too shy to tell me now?" He eggs on, shoving Aemond's shoulder. Perhaps more harshly than necessary, struggling to tamp down his jealousy.

"Enough, brother." Aemond demands, scowling at the ground.

"Boys," Ser Criston yells, making them stand at attention. He continues his demonstrative fight against Ser Willis but looks over at the two brothers to make sure they're paying attention.

Aemond glares up at Aegon, rubbing his shoulder and blush-inducingly, eager to tell his Maery about it later. Perhaps it'll even leave a bruise. Aegon's nostrils are flaring as though he's the one who hurt him and not the other way around. For a second, Aemond thinks he sees something more in his eyes than the usual teasing mischief.

Alexyse tries to get as much done as she can now that Aemond is focusing more on his duties, but she's noticed Aegon's been taking note of her recently now, too. Not as closely as Aemond, but enough to where it's creeping on her nerves. She received note from The Red Fingers just yesterday and came very close to being caught by Aegon. They're hastening her, wondering why she's gone so long without giving word to her exploits. How is she to tell them that instead of doing what's been ordered to her, she's taken to mothering the unmothered. She's a woman, and no matter how deadly, how precise and how cold they've proven themselves to be, it'll never be enough. There will always be those to doubt her abilities, who deny her skills. She sent back word of everything she's found out so far and hopes that'll tide them over with the last of the message being that she has more to come once she receives confirmation. Despite the fact that none of that information exists. It was all encoded of course, anyone who reads the note will just assume it was chicken scratch, or the dabblings of a child who just wanted to send something.

Still, this many eyes on her wasn't something she planned nor appreciates. If Aemond had been able to keep their little meetings to himself, that would've been one thing. But he watches her at every chance he gets, the other work staff has noticed and she suspects he's the reason Bylric was hurt. The poor boy is only fourteen and now it's uncertain if his right arm will ever function as it once had, which as a ranch hand is devastating.

She sits now, cleaning the floors of the children's wing with a solution of lye so to not hurt the stones and covering it with gray clay powder to seal, wondering how these people don't get sick more often. They floors before she came laid covered with "sweet rushes", a hay that sounds much more pleasant than it is, to catch everything that falls on the ground. From spit, to vomit from when someone gets nauseous, namely the prince as of late, the leakings men, likely other animals too. Ale droppings, dead animals, food scraps that lead to more rats coming in, and only the gods know what else.

If her mother or her mother's mother witnessed the filth of this place she wouldn't bother trying to clean, she'd just burn it down. The filth is more than just in the home, these people don't bathe as they should. Back in Myr the washing of one's self is daily, with aquafers that take clean, moving water all around the city. Even those without plumbing still wash daily in the rivers that start there and head downstream to the sea. The use of chamber pots shocked her, she can't imagine something more disgusting then hauling around one's own waste. Back home it's taken away by the water systems as well, the water is then disposed of using lye before being replaced in the system by fresh water. After you relieve yourself you clean your bum with a small moss page or wood pulp page sometimes even snake leaf, that you only use once before tossing it to rot and rejoin the dirt.

The scent of the city accosted her when she first arrived and it's been a struggle to grow accustomed to it. The common folk she understands. To bathe here, a large tub is required, plenty of access to clean water, most of which is stagnant here, availability of saponins is scarce, and the time it takes to bathe would cut into the day, that's not including the time to prepare for it. But she doesn't forgive the nobles. What excuses do they have to smell like onions and rot? They can douce themselves with all the floral oils they want, that won't cover the stench.

'I'm being too judgmental,' she thinks to herself 'I'm frustrated and worried that I might not complete my duty as instructed or to their satisfaction, but that is no fault of the people here.'

"Maery," Anida, a maid around her own age calls on her "The queen has summoned you to her chambers."

"Did she say why?" She asks

"Why would she tell me?" She asks with a smirk

"That's true. Thank you, I'll head there now." She gets up off the floor with Anida's help and heads to the queen's chambers with Anida taking her place.

Before she could even knock on the door, it's opened for her. The beautiful queen welcomes her in and gestures for “Maery” to sit across from her.

“I suppose you might be wondering why you’re being seated with me and not with the stuwart.” She begins

“The thought occurred to me, yes.”

“Ms.Mochel and Stuwart Ainsley have very differing opinions about you.”

‘Figures’ she thinks. That asshole Ainsley never treated her with very much respect, and clearly disliked her more than the other maids.

“I don’t know why, your grace.” She admits “Ms.Mochel always receives my work very well and has had me train some of the other maids of the keep.”

“Yes, which is precisely why I’ve summoned you here.” She says, placing a hand on Alexyse’s thigh “My sons have grown quite fond of you. Would you please tell me why, Maery?”

Alexyse didn’t know quite how she should respond to this. On the one hand, what she’s been doing is entirely inappropriate. On the other, it doesn’t seem like the queen is reacting too negatively.

“Well with Daeron all I do is be silly with him,” she begins “He’s only a boy of 6, I make small jokes as I do what’s required of me.”

“I see, and for Aemond?” She presses

“For Prince Aemond it’s a bit more complicated, your grace.” she goes “I first truly met Prince Aemond the night he lost his eye.”

At this, the queen looks down and nods.

“He put up a brave front but that night I went into his room and found him sobbing. He screamed at me to go, to leave him. He even threw something at me.”

The queen makes a small gasp

“Something soft, not anything dangerous. Still I couldn’t move from there, it was like I couldn’t understand what he was ordering me to do.”

“Then what?” Queen Alicent asks

This is the tricky part. How to tell the queen that she didn’t do her motherly duty to her son and instead left that for a perfect stranger to do in her stead?

“I must admit, what I did next was inappropriate.” Alexyse says, hoping that’ll soften the blow to both her and the queen’s ego. “I got into his bed and pressed him very tightly against my chest.”

She holds her breath and waits to see how the queen reacts, when her expression doesn’t change she continues.

“I don’t know why, I suppose it was just instinct. He’s a little boy and he was crying with no one to comfort him. He barely put up a fight before wrapping his arms around me and crying onto my chest.”

“Is that all?” She asks

“That happened that night? Yes.” Alexyse assures

“Are you why Aemond is so concerned with taking more baths?” She asks confused

Her brows furrow at this “I wouldn’t know, your grace.”

“Hmm” is all she says “What happened the following days?”

“The next night I went to change his linens and I found him there smiling at me and calling me my name. I thought the last night made him feel better and thought it would be all. But when I was going to leave and finish my work, he called me back. I told him I’d love to stay but that I had work to finish. The same thing happened the next night only he didn’t leave it at that.” She skips over the part where she stayed the second night with him too. “He went looking for me in the child’s maid’s quarters and when he found me, he woke me up and said he couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m terribly sorry about that Maery,” Queen Alicent says “I’ll make sure to keep his door guarded at night now, he shouldn’t be bothering at such hours for such things.”

“Truly it was less a bother and more a concern, your grace. I didn’t know how badly the loss of his eye had affected him. In any case, I’d rather he came to me and told me if something troubled him. Perhaps not in the middle of the night but since then he’s been trying to keep me with him while he sleeps. I leave once I’m sure he’s going to stay asleep but that’s gotten harder over the last few days.”

“Alright. Now Maery, why hasn’t it occurred to you to come to me about this?”

At this her brow furrows again in feigned confusion “Prince Aemond had told me he had gone to you about this himself. He said you’d assigned me to him and when I asked Ms.Mochel and Stuwart Ainsley, they didn’t negate it, your grace, only said I’m to do household chores while the prince is occupied but to tend to him exclusively when he’s not. I figured I needn’t bother you over something like this when my superiors and your underlings had already approved of it.”

“Well, I had been looking for a hand maid for Aemond but I was looking at noble girls. If he prefers you to them all however, I suppose that would be fine. As long as you don’t expect a noble marriage or something of that sort-“

“No your grace, of course not.”

Part 4 link:

@writingwenches

A03 link:

[ficzhub]

The Foreign Woman

Part 4

(Art credit to @kevvidile )

Aemond Targeryen x Older Myrish OC (Alexyse Majeríz)

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CW: hurt/comfort, obsession, dysfunctional family, mommy issues, comforting a child as an older child, duplicitous OC, creepy crush, jealous Aemond Targaryen, envious Aegon II Targaryen, emotional manipulation, spying, possessive Aemond Targaryen, jealous Aegon II Targaryen, power imbalance, power dynamics.

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Chapter 4: Troublesome

"Oh, my prince-" she began while facepalming before he'd cut her off

"No! Not 'your prince', your Aemond!" He nearly yelled

"Shh!" She pleaded, pressing her index finger to her lips before pressing her hand on his cheek "My Aemond," she calmed "what are you doing here?"

She still felt drowsy from being woken up so suddenly, and mildly irritated with him. He's a sad, scared, lonely little boy, terribly misunderstood but it wasn't really her place to watch over him like he wants her to. Though that's her own fault, she could've left when she saw him crying, or when she threw something at her and screamed at her to leave. But she didn't and instead got into bed with the boy, wrapped her arms around him and let him cry until he fell asleep on her chest. She told herself later that it was because he may know something she doesn't, being the quiet listener he is. But that wasn't true. She did it because he needed her to, because no one else had bothered to.

"I told you, I couldn't sleep." He said

"Why? What happened?" She asked

"I had a nightmare." He lied.

He didn't want to lie to his Maery, but what else could he say? He knew he'd have one if he'd been able to go to sleep anyway. "I couldn't stop crying."

That part was true, from the moment she left his chambers until he'd decided to leave them and find her. It embarrassed him, but he felt he should tell her this. It could only work in his favor, in any case.

"Honey, I can't keep you here and I can't stay in your chambers." She explains again, softly "Come, I'll walk you back to yours. You can't be out here, it could even be dangerous."

He didn't care obviously. The worst thing that could happen to him already did. He was deformed, permanently irreparable. The only good thing that came of this besides his dragon was his Maery.

"If it's so dangerous then you certainly shouldn't be out here either." He pointed out, not realizing she was likely the most dangerous thing out there. "Not to mention how rubbish the accommodations seem to be."

He looks back at her little hovel in disgust.

"Dangerous for you, baby. Perfectly fine for me." She explains "And the accommodations are more than adequate for a woman in my station. I don't deserve any more than any other maid working for your family."

"That's not true." He immediately disagrees, liking her loving pet names for him "You're no mere maid."

Her blood runs cold, but she tries not to panic. Has she been doing such a terrible job hiding who she is that even a half-blind ten year old could tell she wasn't who she said she was?

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" She asks

"You shouldn't be working as a maid, picking up other's filth and working yourself ragged. You could do so much more." He says

"You think so?" She asks smiling "Like what?"

"You should be a lady, a grand lady or a maester. If they allowed women to be maesters." He suggests excitedly

"Oh, if only..." she says knowing there are maesters, robes heavy with links who don't know half what she does.

He holds onto her hand firmly, not to keep his balance but to make sure she doesn't stray from him. He wants the least distance possible between them. She smells rain approaching and tries to walk to the castle as fast as she can without making Aemond trip but by the time they get inside it's already too late. The drizzle becomes a storm in mere seconds and she turns to see Aemond smiling widely.

"You could hardly go back to that hovel now."

She puts her hands on her hips and smirks "The rain won't kill me Aemond, I am not made of sugar."

"But you could get sick!" He exclaimed

"I'm not quite so delicate."

"Please don't go." He drops the pretense of being worried of the rain and reverts to begging. "Please."

"Darling, if they catch me in here I'll be reprimanded. I can't stay." She says, squeezing his hand and walking him to his chambers.

"Then I'll make sure you won't get caught." He promises

"You can't be sure of that my love, and even if you could it's not your responsibility. I'm a maid, I have my place and you have yours."

"Your place is with me!" He insists loudly and rushes into a hug, wrapping his arms so tightly around her waist it almost restricts her breathing.

"Shhh, honey you can't be so loud." She says quietly and rubbing her hand on his back to calm him. From his short she is, no taller than 158 cm, she presses her cheek to the top of his head.

"They can't say anything to me, even if we get caught." He retorts stubbornly, not letting go, enjoying the feeling of her softness against him, making him feel better as she tends to do, intentionally or otherwise. He inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the scent of her.

"I meant more so because people are sleeping and we need to be considerate of them." She elaborates in a whisper "Come, let's get you to bed."

They both start walking towards his chambers but his hands never leave her arm and hand, holding onto it with a near vice grip. Scared she'll leave him, scared he'll have to go back out and search for her again only to not find her anywhere. They reach them and she makes sure to tuck him into bed and leave, only to be held back by his hand on her forearm.

"Honey, please." She begs now

"They won't reprimand you, I swear it. Please, Maery." His little eye fills with tears threatening to spill over and she knows he must hate being in the position of begging an underling to hold him so he could sleep.

She thinks of her own parents, her wonderful mother who never let her feel alone and babies her even now as a grown woman for all intents and purposes. Her father, who while firm, made sure to protect her and teach her how to protect herself in case he may not be able to. How could the king not at least ask about this little boy's well being? How could the Queen be doing anything other than fretting over him? What the fuck kind of family is this? Both of their fingers are changing color from the force with which Aemond is holding her hand. She practically slaps the other on her own forehead and sighs, feeling unbearably guilty and unable to deny this sweet boy something so basic, so primal as comfort.

"What makes you so sure you could keep from having me punished? Or fired and made so you could never see me again?" She asks, seeing what plan the little prince has up his sleeve.

He gives you a small smile and looks down shyly. "I've already told the Queen Mother about you, I told her how much I enjoy your work. I'd asked to have you moved to the chambers next to mine so I wouldn't have to call on you so often and have someone else take on the responsibilities that don't pertain to me."

He states these things proudly, but it only makes Alexyse's heart sink. This boy has gotten too attached and because of him she may never complete the assignment. She already can't move about the castle as she used to because of how he keeps following her around. Now she'll have to spend every second of every day attached to his hip as his own personal maid instead of a general family maid?

"And Lady Mochel has approved already?" She asks

"She doesn't need to, she doesn't make those choices." He says, pointing his nose up.

"Well sure honey, but I meant as in she's already had other people take over my work load?"

"I don't know, to be honest I don't particularly care. They'll take care of it."

'And I'll be able to keep you to myself.' He thinks

"There are something's I'm the only one who knows how to do, we don't have anyone on staff who can do them. They're hiring new people?" She asks

"I don't know! I don't care!" He cries "I've done what I've needed to do to keep you safe, just stay

with me."

"Alright, alright." She says, "Move over, sweetheart."

He tries to contain his glee with a small smile that hurts his wound, but he scoots over and makes room for her next to him. He snuggles up next to her with his head on her chest, trying to get as much of his body to connect with hers. The sound of her steady heartbeat quiets his anxiety and the fear that she'll leave him is assuaged, she can hardly leave without him noticing. He pressed himself to her as tightly as he could to the point where she felt his little fingers digging into her ribs.

She tries to make herself comfortable while holding the boy, trying to find a solution that won't hurt his already delicate feelings, allow her to finish her job and leave unnoticed. Trying to work out a way she'll be 'forced' away from him, perhaps. That it's not her choosing to abandon him, never! Just that circumstances are working against them both. But that'll have to wait for tomorrow. Right now she'll just comfort the little prince. No matter how unexpected his attachment to her became, she can't deny he's a sweet boy. Neglected, and maybe a little spoiled, as is to be expected from a prince in the royal family. But sweet, and in desperate need of motherly affection.

She doesn't envy his position. Alexyse loves her life, the life her family has granted her. Thanks to them she's a certified weapon, someone to fear, someone to respect. She doesn't have to be a whore, or a damsel who's only good for getting married and birthing children. Instead she can protect women like them, make sure they're being treated fairly. She can't count high enough to the number of how many monsters disguised as men have been killed by her tiny, unthreatening mother. How many pompous, arrogant cunt lords and merchants have been disposed of by her bastard father. Alexyse herself is now responsible for sentencing quite a few lowlives to very painful deaths by just her word, but she couldn't wait to get her hands dirty.

Still, the whole time they were training her, sculpting her to be someone capable and strong, she never felt like she wasn't cherished by her family. Her father taught her to sharpen his blades and treat his leathers, but also played with her and sang her the Dornish lullabies his father taught him before she fell asleep. Her mother taught her to synthesize more poisons than most people know even exist by the time she was as old as the little boy she's holding now, but she always brushed out her hair and let her play with the other children that lived near them in the water springs.

What childhood was this little man allowed to have? The spare to the spare to the heir of a man who neglects them all but one? Everyone knowing of him, watching him as they watch his whole family, training him in histories and philosophies and with the sword but not letting him behave as a little boy should. It's too dry, too frigid. No child could grow up well of mind in this type of shit, it's no wonder she's only ever seen him smile in the last two days despite being here for a quite a while now. She's the only one who's done anything worth him hurting himself by smiling.

She feels him snuggle his face against her chest and smiles down at him as he falls asleep, unaware that his presence wasn't the only one apart from hers. Aegon had been observing uncharacteristically quiet that day, seeing his little brother mope around following the pretty maid like a lost puppy. He thought he'd call him out on it and make the 10-year-old's cheeks red at the mention of his little crush, until he'd seen what he did to the ranchhand. Now, seeing his little brother clinging desperately to this girl after sneaking off to look for her in the dead of night, he wonders what's so special about her.

Aegon keeps watching them, surprised at his own envy. He can’t remember the last time anyone’s held him like that, anyone he hasn’t recently started paying. Can’t remember the last time a woman made sure he felt warm and safe, touched him because she wanted to, not because he’d forced or paid for it. Aemond was always the favorite, for everyone, even his own. He should’ve been the first born, he does everything the way people would expect of him, from claiming the biggest dragon, to his studies to even taking the loss of his eye with dignity. Aegon is more sensitive than people know, than people give him credit for. He just wants to know what it feels like to be in Aemond’s current position. To have someone, someone genuinely care for you, someone of your own.

AO3 link:

(Part 3 \/)