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You and Aemond have never fought like this before. You’ve had little spats, like most married couples. They are hard to avoid, especially with Aemond’s prickly nature. His anger is constantly boiling beneath his skin and it only takes a few sharp remarks or the wrong words to make the anger burst out like lava. It took you a few months of tiptoeing around him in the beginning of your marriage to learn what not to say, and what to say to get him to calm down when he is in a rage.
There is no calming him down from this. You really, really messed up this time.
Since you and Aemond got married in the middle of the war, there hasn’t been much time for feasting. You both have dinner with his mother and siblings a few times a month, but nothing so grand as the feast you enjoyed tonight. The King insisted on having a grand feast for the twins’ birthday, despite the havoc that the war was reeking upon the Crown’s coffers.
You were excited to have a feast. You loved to dance, even if your husband did not. You were hoping to convince him to take you for at least one spin around the dance floor. You put on your favorite dress, a pretty light purple that stood out among all the green in the family, and had your lady’s maid braid your hair in a popular Court style. Everything was going perfectly.
Until Aemond didn’t want to dance. You understood, somewhat. He didn’t like the attention or the staring. But he was a prince, why should he care what people thought?
“Please, husband?” You begged. You tried not to sound too desperate. “I haven’t danced once here in King’s Landing.”
He glanced at you, jaw clenched. The anger that was constantly inside of him was starting to fester. You backed off, and turned to your sister in law to chat with her about her latest bug acquisition, which was a spider.
“I will dance with you, my lady,” you heard a voice behind you say. Gwayne Hightower, the Queen’s brother. You smiled. Gwayne was older than you, unmarried, but you didn’t think Aemond would mind if you danced with him. He is technically your family, after all.
“I’d love to,” you got up and followed him off to the dance floor. You made the mistake of not looking back at your husband to see his reaction.
The dancing was lovely. Gwayne was perfectly nice, if not a little arrogant. He was recently promoted to second in command of the City Watch, and that is all he talks about. You don’t mind, you just wanted to dance. When the dance was over, he escorted you back to your table and you sat down next to your husband.
You look over to him and your face immediately loses all its color.
His normally pale face is flushed, red scar slashed through his eye standing out in stark contrast. His jaw is clenched so tight you can hear the squeaking of his teeth grinding together. He is trembling with rage.
“Aemond?” You whisper.
“ What. Was. That?” He hisses through his clenched teeth.
“Aemond,” you say softly, trying to stay calm. “Not here.”
His hand slams on the table, silverware clattering and his chair makes a loud screech as he stands up. The hall goes eerily silent, except for the music playing, as the occupants look at him. So much for not calling attention to himself. You want to laugh, but you are too worried for the argument to come.
“My wife is tired,” Aemond says to King Aegon. “I’m afraid we must retire.”
He grabs you by the arm before anyone can answer and begins to drag you out of the hall. You are mortified. Everyone is staring, and you know everyone is going to whisper and gossip about you both when you are gone.
Aemond says nothing as he drags you to the rooms you share with him. By the time he lets go of you and slams the door behind him, you are fuming.
“How dare you!” You yell at him before he can start. “You have no right to drag me out of the hall!”
“No right?!” He practically roars back at you. Aemond Targaryen is proving that he is anything but a dragon. Snarling, roaring, fuming. He is almost a twin to his mighty beast, Vhagar. “You are my wife! I have every right to you. Unlike that oaf who you let put his hands on you!”
“I just wanted to dance! “ You are nearly screeching. “You wouldn’t get over your fucking issues and just dance with me!”
He sneers at you, running a hand through his hair and starting to pace around the room. “So you go off with my Uncle? You just let some other man touch you because I wouldn’t join you for some silly dance?”
You want to cry and shout and hit him at the same time. You are tempted to pick up the nearest book and hit him with it until his stupid sapphire pops out of his thick skull.
“It was just a dance!” You yell at him, your own blood is starting to boil now. His temper is feeding yours. “It meant nothing, Aemond! I just wanted to dance at one feast!”
He scoffs. “Everyone was staring at you two. I bet they were thinking how pathetic it was that you had to dance with your husband’s uncle.”
Your hands clench. “Did you think I was pathetic, husband? Dancing with your uncle because I had no other choice?”
He stares at you for a beat. One violet eye gleaming with rage, the other covered by his inky black patch.
“No, wife,” he says. “I thought you looked like a whore. Out there giggling and laughing with my own family,”
You gasp. Immediately tears fill your eyes. You knew Aemond could be cruel, but he never spewed his hate towards you.
His face goes white as he sees tears fall down your face. He reaches out towards you but you jerk away.
“I’m sleeping with Helaena in her rooms tonight,” you say, trying not to sob. Your voice cracks on the words. “ Don’t follow me there,”
You hear him call after you as you rush out of your rooms and down the hall to Helaena’s room.
You toss and turn that night, probably keeping poor Helaena up. But you couldn’t get Aemond’s words out of your head. Nor the cruel way they spewed out of his mouth. You know Aemond truly never wanted to hurt you, but he did. And it would take a lot to make up for it.
[][][][][]
Aemond spends the next few days working his hardest to earn your forgiveness. You are awoken the next morning after your fight by a maid bringing you your favorite breakfast (courtesy of Aemond), then throughout the day you are brought small gifts by couriers. The first gift is a beautiful sapphire ring that makes your mouth twitch up into a soft smile when you see it. Even when trying to apologize, your husband is thinking of himself. Many people of the court know of the sapphire that replaces the eye in his socket. Aemond loves to give you sapphires to show you belong to him.
“Would you like me to give him a message, my lady?” The courier asks nervously. No doubt just being around Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen made the boy nervous, and he most likely didn’t want to go back to him.
You smile softly at the boy and curl your fingers around the sparkling ring. “Just tell him I will need more than pretty jewelry to forgive him.”
The courier nods and hurriedly runs away. This is how the rest of your day goes. When you are out in the garden helping Helaena look for bugs with the twins, a different courier runs up and hands you a package. You sigh, dust the dirt and grass off your hands and take it from him. You open the package to see a book about Aegon’s Conquest. It’s a beautiful book, binded in a gorgeous shiny black leather and the title stitched in with golden thread.
A beautiful gift, and you do love to read about your husband’s family and their history. But it’s still a gift about Aemond. It leans closer to your interests, yes, but the subject of the book is about his family.
You shoo the courier away again and go back to helping Helaena look for some interesting bugs.
The next few gifts are the same. A beautiful hair pin in the shape of a dragon and a silky emerald green dress. All stunning gifts, and you would normally love them all, but they were all gifts that reflected Aemond’s ownership of you. Aemond knows your favorite color to wear is lilac, yet he gave you a green one. He knows you have a collection of hair pins and love to adorn your hair with them, but he gave you one with the sigil of his house.
You want to forgive your husband. You miss spending the day with him. Watching him down in the training yard, walking around the keep, lounging around the library and reading together. He is often away on diplomatic missions for the King, so to have him here is a blessing and you miss having him with you. But the words he said to you the other night hurt you too badly to forgive him right away.
You are in the nursery with Helaena and the twins when Aemond finally comes to find you. He storms in the room, hair streaming behind him in a silver curtain. His eye locks onto you on the floor as you’re playing with Jaehaera. His nostrils flare and you can see he is still angry. You can’t tell if he"s still angry at you or mad you won’t forgive him.
“What is it going to take?” He growls. His fists are clenched at his sides. Helaena stands behind you and ushers the children out of the nursery. You sigh in annoyance.
“Oh, I don’t know, husband,” you say sarcastically. “Maybe an apology?”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t like the presents?”
You stand up and walk over to the window, staring out at the bustling city. “I loved them, Aemond, but pretty gifts aren’t an apology.”
He lets out what sounds like a growl and suddenly you are lifted over his shoulder. You squeak and grab a fistful of his shirt for balance.
“What are you doing?” You shriek at him. Your face has to be turning red from all the blood rushing to it.
“I’m locking you in our rooms until you forgive me,” He says like it’s an easy, simple solution. You huff. Aemond kicks open the door with his foot and slams it shut behind him. He tosses you on the bed and you huff again as you bounce roughly on top of the duvet. You scramble to get up but Aemond crawls on top of you.
“You will forgive me,wife,” Aemond demands. “I will not have it any other way,”
You squirm underneath him, not wanting to give in to the desire that was starting to bloom inside of you from the feeling of his body on top of you.
“I won’t forgive you until you apologize and beg me for forgiveness. Do you even regret what you said to me?” You ask him, eyes stinging with tears again. You will yourself not to cry in front of him again.
His eye softens a tad and he leans down and presses soft kisses on to your face. Your cheeks, forehead, and lips are caressed by his soft lips. He kisses your salty tears away and shushes you as you let out a soft whimper.
“I’m sorry, wife,” he whispers, so softly. He continues to move his lips down to your neck, then your collar bones. He trails his lips across the swells of your breasts and you shudder. Aemond lovingly strokes your hair and shoulders and sits you up to unlace your dress. Oh, how you want to resist him, but you can’t. He has always been your undoing.
Aemond strips your dress and small clothes off you and continues to run his hand and mouth down your body. You moan softly. His hot mouth on your skin sends shivers up your spine and pleasure pools in your belly.
“I still don’t forgive you,” you breathe out and tangle your hands in his silky hair. “You will have to work harder than this, husband.”
He looks up from kissing your soft belly and grins wickedly. “Of course wife,” He flips over quickly on the bed so he’s on his back. “Come sit here,” He gestures to his face.
You stare at him, frozen. “Sit…there?” You ask, dumbfounded. Your anger and hurt momentarily forgotten at his request.
His lips turn up into his signature smirk. “Come sit on my face, my pretty wife. Let me make up my vile words to you with my tongue,”
Your face has to be flaming red at this point, but you obey and straddle his face. You feel so exposed in this position, but it also sends an electric throughout your whole body.
Aemond’s hands wrap around your thighs and he whispers, “Good girl,” before he licks the seam of your pussy with his hot tongue. You jump at the contact and moan as he digs his fingers into you to hold you still. You groan as he angles his head to fuck your cunt with his tongue, thrusting at a pace that causes you to whimper and grab his hair. You grind your hips into his face and shriek as his nose brushes against your clit. He lets out a moan beneath you and the vibration sends you over the edge, cursing and yelling in a way no wife of a prince should.
He keeps going, licking and sucking your over sensitive clit until you moan at him to stop and he pulls you off his face. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy and your chest is heaving with heavy breaths.
Aemond’s mouth smirks again as he licks his lips, his mouth covered in your climax. You lay back on the bed and he climbs over you, kissing your neck.
“How about now?” He asks. “Have you forgiven me yet?”
You have, but you want him to grovel a little longer. “Not yet, husband,” you say breathlessly. “You are going to have to try a little harder than that.”
Aemond’s smirk leaves his mouth and he lets out a little growl. He leans down and crushes his mouth to yours, tongue plunging into your mouth and tangling with your own tongue. You groan as he sucks your lip into his mouth then nips it with his teeth. He moves from your mouth to your neck, lavishing wet kisses there and leaving tiny bites as well. You are positive there will be little red marks decorating your throat and collarbone in the morning.
He leans down and takes one of your stiff nipples into his mouth and you gasp and buck your hips against his. His still-clothed erection is rock hard between your thighs and you grind your hips up into it again to feel the delicious friction of it between your legs.
Aemond groans around the nipple he has in his mouth and begins grounding his cock into you.
“That’s it, wife.” He says. “Grind your wet cunt against my cock until you find your release.”
You do what he says, lifting your hips in a steady rhythm against his cock as he sucks and licks your nipples in his mouth until you are choking back a scream of ecstasy. His pants have to be soaking wet by now but he doesn’t take them off, just lifts his mouth off your breast and fumbles with the fastenings until he can pull his cock out of his pants.
“Are you ready for me?” Aemond asks, panting. You nod, not trusting yourself to open your mouth lest you begin to beg him to fuck you. It wouldn’t be right to beg your husband to do anything when he is the one who is supposed to be apologizing to you.
Aemond guides his cock into your drenched pussy and you both groan as he slides into you with no resistance.
“ Fuck, my beautiful wife,” He exhales. “You feel perfect.”
You moan and throw your head back in bliss.
“Please! I wanna come on your cock—please please!” You finally break down and beg him
Aemond hungrily roams his eye over your smooth, flushed skin as your breasts bounce with every hard thrust of his hips. The heat of his gaze on you made the pleasure flow through you even faster and the tiny groans and grunts that spill from his mouth are driving you mad. You finally fall over the edge as Aemond snakes his hand between your bodies and begins to rub his fingers on your clit.
“ Oh!” You scream as your pleasure washes over you, stars bursting behind your eyes and your body fracturing to pieces as Aemond continues to thrust his cock in you as you ride out your orgasm. Aemond adjusts his grip on your legs, lifting them around his hips so he can thrust into you deeper. You moan as your cunt continues to pulse around him as his thrusts get harder and his pace begins to falter.
“You want me to come inside of you, wife?” He asks you, breaths heavy and teeth clenched. You nod, mind too hazy with pleasure to speak. “Come for me one more time, and I will.”
You moan. You are so sensitive you aren’t sure if you can handle another orgasm, but Aemond starts rubbing your clit again and your legs clench around him. Your hands flail on the bed before they dig into the sheets and you shake your head back and forth. You feel rabid with pleasure. Tears are starting to stream from your eyes and your hips are bucking against Aemond’s, meeting his strokes with your own as you begin to peak.
He finds his pleasure at the same time as you. Groaning your name as his seed spills inside of you, hot and sticky. Aemond trembles on top of you as he tries to hold his weight off of you and is panting heavily from exertion.
He pulls his cock out of you, and you whimper slightly from the loss and the feeling of his spend gushing out of you. He flops down next to you and tangles a hand in your hair.
“Do you forgive me yet, love?” He murmurs to you.
You smile.
[][][][][]
You made Aemond make love to you three more times that night, and the next day you received a beautiful amethyst necklace, a lilac gown, and a delightful book about the history of the Free Cities of Essos. You figured you could forgive him after all that.