Dark Aemond X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Please, don't make her fall inlove with Aemond.. I mean, the guy did sexually assaulted her, killed her brother then kidnapped her..
Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Since 'labour - Paris Paloma' was finally released, all I can do when I listen to it is think of the reader. I think I have spent the entire day with that song on repeat.
Chapter 35: Solitudes Visitors
You found yourself restless after your interaction with Alicent Hightower. Images of the lifeless body of your aunt's son, played in a loop in your mind. A sick imagination toying with your sanity in the space. Men could go mad from isolation, their minds making up scenarios.
And all you could do in the space was think.
And that is all you wished to not do.
On your seventh sleep, you dreamt.
You dreamt of falling. Of Lucerys’ death. Of the brown haired boy's lifeless body, mangled before you. You dreamt of Jaehaerys being slain, Helaena's frantic screams echoing in your mind.
Every time you watched the murder of the child, it was your hands doing it.
It was you that she begged for mercy.
It was you who was covered in blood.
You woke up in a sweat. Heart racing, as you slowly recognised your surroundings.
The Maester had not come to your cell that day.
You shivered at the sudden chill of the room, the perspiration on your skin making your blood cool. Tucking your legs up under your chin, you breathed deeply.
In for three, out for three.
Repeating until you felt yourself calm slightly. Though you tried in vain, you could not fall back to sleep.
So instead, you paced the cell once more.
Counting aloud to fill the silence, anything better than Lucerys and Helaena’s screams that echoed in your mind. You had completed your seventh lap of the cell before you heard hurried footsteps.
You turned to face the bars of the cell, looking out into the dark corridor. The footsteps came closer, as you heard small breaths being puffed out into the air.
The movement of the guard alerted the presence of the person coming to your cell. You watched as the guard moved towards the hooded figure, hand warily on the hilt of his sword.
As the figure got closer, the torch light illuminated their face.
“My Queen,” The guard bowed, “You shouldn’t be down here.”
She walked shakily towards you, steps uneven and frantic.
“Let me see her.” Helaena demanded, voice raw and uncertain.
“I am sorry, My Queen, I have-“
“I order you to let me see her.” She interrupted the guard, voice stronger, though still laced with self-doubt.
The guard shifted on his feet, looking back at you as you pressed yourself up against the bar cells watching her. The man gave an uneasy bow before muttering, “Yes, My Queen.”
He turned on his heel and came before your cell, pulling the key from beside his thigh.
The large skeleton key scraped against the keyhole of the cell before a loud click was heard as he turned it, unlocking the metal that kept you imprisoned.
Helaena stood beside the guard as he pushed the door open to her.
The silver haired woman looked nervous, before she turned to look at the guard, back hunched.
“Leave us.”
“Your Highness,-” The guard began to argue.
“Leave, lest you be hung for your disobedience.” She hissed, frantic energy rising in her.
“Yes, My Queen.” The guard uttered, eyeing you carefully before turning on his foot to leave the dungeon, footsteps disappearing up the stairs.
You stared at each other in uneasy silence.
Helaena looked broken.
The hood over her head covered the knotted silver hair beneath, neither brushed nor braided as it spilled wildly over her shoulders and chest. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, the light they once held, seemingly snuffed out.
She looked as though she was wasting away.
Had she come to free you?
The both of you stood quietly before she swiftly came forward into the cell, snatching your un-bandaged hand. You squeezed hers as you felt tears begin to spring to your eyes.
Your sweet aunt. What horrors had she witnessed?
“There is a beast beneath the boards.” She frantically spoke at you, pulling you close, eyes crazed as she shook.
“Helaena, are you alright?”
“There is a beast beneath the boards.” She hissed impatiently, eyes darting around the space, as she looked around in search of danger.
“Helaena, I am so sorry.” You began to cry, watching your aunt fall to pieces before you.
“What was lost is replaced, a spider's web is spun.” Queen Helaena yanked you towards her, holding your hand in both of her hands as she desperately searched your face.
A broken sob fell from her lips. Her eyes widening.
“His head. They took his head. They took his head. They took his head. They took it from his body. They took it from me. He has no head. How will my boy see? How will he sing to me?” She rambled.
Your hands shot up and held onto her face as she cried, watching you desperately try to console her, try to calm her, give her any sort of comfort. She gripped your wrists.
“A dragons death for a dragon breath. I told you. I warned you. I warned you that this would happen. I tried. I tried. I-“ You pulled her roughly against you, holding her in a tight hug. Her hands were pressed awkwardly between the two of you as you held her tight.
The young woman continued to ramble as you held her. Breathing in her scent. She smelt as she always did, of fresh flowers from the garden, sweet and soft in your nose, though sandalwood lingered the more you concentrated.
You stiffened and pulled back holding her still as she began to wriggle and twist away from you, swaying back and forth on her feet.
“Hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black. Spool of green. Spool of green. Spool of green.” She repeated.
You felt helpless, utterly at a loss as to what to do, how to comfort your aunt, the broken woman before you as she uttered the same things over and over.
“Helaena, breathe.” You tried to hold her so that she would stop pacing around the cell.
“No!” She yelled at you as you touched her, her body flinching away. “Please do not make me choose, please mercy. Mercy, I beg you.”
“Helaena it’s just me.” You began to panic.
The woman laughed brokenly, which turned to loud sobs. Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to catch the Queen in your hands.
“Please do not make me choose. He is just a boy. Just a boy. So small. Such a small body. It was wrong. It was so wrong. But I had to. I had to." Her fingers jabbed sharply at her chest, "It was so wrong to hold him when I could not look at his face. I wish I could hold his face once more. But it is gone. He is faceless. No more. No more."
Helaena was broken.
She rambled so quickly it made your head spin. You did not know what to do. How could you stop her? How could you calm a woman gone mad?
Your aunt.
"No more small little face to smile at me. How could I choose? What could I do? Where is his face? Where has it gone? It is gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.”
You grabbed her shoulders standing in front of her, lowering yourself so that you could reach her eyesight. She looked at you dazed, suddenly realising where she was.
She looked around the cell, “Y/n?”
“Yes, yes Helaena it's me.” You gave her a small sad smile, “I’m here. I’m here with you.”
The Queen blinked slowly at you, brows furrowing.
“He is gone, y/n. My Jaehaerys.” A tear slid down her cheek as she stared at you, face broken.
“I am so sorry, I am so, so sorry.” You sobbed, holding her.
Helaenas eyes glazed over as she looked at you, face suddenly empty, mouth parted.
“Gone.” She muttered. “Lucerys.”
You sniffed, heart aching, “Yes, gone with Lucerys.”
“Gone.” She repeated, voice empty.
Noise snatched your attention from above, the sound of guards rapidly making their way down the steps to the dungeon and cell, where you were with Helaena.
She heard the commotion and suddenly looked back at you in fear.
“Dragon's of flesh, weaving dragon's of thread.” She grabbed your arms sharply, fingers digging painfully into your skin.
The guards were closer now, far down the corridor behind Helaena.
“Get away from her!” One yelled at you, as you held onto your aunt in desperation. You looked into her eyes as the guards ran towards you. Their armour loudly moving throughout the dungeon.
“If the dragons dance, none will survive.” She whispered desperately at you.
The guards burst into the cell, roughly flinging you back away from Helaena. Large calloused hands pulled you back towards the wall of the cell. She stared at you in shock as you tried to break free from the men who pulled you further into the cell away from her, as two held her gently pulling her away with soft words of encouragement.
“Helaena!” You called to her, as she watched you.
You cried out as one of the guard's roughly grabbed your injured side, fingers digging into the tender flesh. Pain ripped through your body as he used the grip to pull you further into the cell, as you watched Queen Helaena standing outside.
“You’re hurting her.” She whispered, the young woman blinked before her face crumpled rapidly.
“Spool of black, spool of black, a dragons breath. A dragons breath. To black, to black, to black.” She rambled as they walked her away.
“Helaena!” You called out again, desperately fighting through the pain to try and wiggle away from the guards and go to your aunt.
“Stop resisting.” One of the guards grunted, before he twisted his fingers into your side painfully. Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed in pain, shifting in their grip, trying to get his hand off of your wound.
The guard huffed a satisfied laugh.
New steps descended into the dungeon, their footfalls even and not at all rushed. Your heart raced as you listened to the steps, watching the guards all wait for whomever they had alerted to Helaena's presence in your cell.
A long leg stepped out from the staircase and another followed. The lazy steps moving the silver haired man into the space. Aegon walked slowly towards his wife, head tilting to the side.
“Wife, you should not be out of our chambers in your condition.” He cooed, hand coming to brush the hair away from her face.
“Spool of green. Spool of green. Beware the beast beneath the boards. Beware. Beware. Gone. Gone. Gone.” She rambled, completely lost to grief and madness as he looked at her sadly.
“Please take the Queen back to our chambers, and ensure that some milk of the poppy is brought to help calm her.” King Aegon commanded, watching as Helaena was gently moved up toward the steps, as she continued to look back at you muttering, eyes filled with grief.
Aegon watched Helaena be led up the stairs before his attention turned fully to you. His purple eyes roamed over your body as he watched you struggle in his guards grip.
His lips turned downward in a smug smirk.
You felt your heart beat rapidly inside of your chest. You had not seen Aegon since before Lucerys.
Since before he was crowned King.
Aegon sauntered to the cell as you stiffened, watching him smile at you viciously. The Usurper King swayed on his feet, only a white dress shirt and dark breeches donned his form.
He must have been in his cup, drinking.
“Thank the Seven that this guard informed me of Helaena’s visit to your cell.” He drawled, “Who knew what you would have done to her once alone.”
You sneered at him, “Fuck you. Usurper cunt.”
You swirled your tongue in your mouth, and spat onto the floor in front of his feet. The guards yanked you roughly backwards. Aegon looked to the floor where your spit lay, almost having reached him.
Your eldest uncle laughed an amused laugh, the guards holding you still as he watched you, eyes raking over your disheveled and dirty form.
“You look filthy.” He smirked. “Worse than the whores down in Flea Bottom. The Silk Lanes have looked cleaner than you do.”
You yanked against the guard's grip, trying to move towards your uncle as he got closer to you, finally standing before you.
“I’ll kill you.” You hissed at him.
The usurper laughed again, before looking at the guards beside you, nodding his head. A man holding onto you suddenly let go, before a blooming pain seeped into your side.
The guard had veered a fist back, striking you in your wound with it. You slumped forward, ears ringing before the other guards let go of you, letting you fall to the floor roughly.
Your ears rang and your vision went black. You could not feel anything, but the hot white pain in your side. Nausea rose within you.
You desperately tried to suck in air, but your body would not allow it. You heaved against the stone, your stomach emptying, only bile falling out of the side of your mouth, pooling onto the stone below you. The acidic taste coating your tongue.
Your body curled in on yourself as you tried to breathe.
Eyes were shut tightly as a groan fell from your lips. Never had you felt pain like this before. You thought your heart would stop. Your hands clutched against your sides as you curled further in on yourself.
Moments passed as you tried desperately to breathe and to not heave as the pain and nausea rolled through you in waves. Behind your eyes throbbed as you struggled with yourself.
The ringing slowly began to fade, as you heard the guards shuffle out of the cell, one by one until you were alone.
With Aegon.
The soft crunch of dirt beside you alerted you to his presence.
You slowly opened your eyes, sucking in a painful breath of air, willing yourself to not pass out, as your vision swam. Large black dots formed in your sight as you looked at the man kneeling in front of you.
Aegon was crouched beside you, looking down in mock pity, lips pulled into a false pout which curled at the edges where he fought to not smile at you. You breathed in another shaky breath as you watched him, head spinning.
“You always did have such fire inside of you.” He cooed, as he looked over your tense form, still curled in a ball on your side as you gasped in agony.
“It was always to be your downfall, of course. You just never know when to give in.” The King tutted.
You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, though your lids had become heavy as your breaths evened out, and pain throbbed inside of you.
“Bend the knee. Acknowledge me as King and I will let you live. You may even see Helaena.” He added at the end in a higher note, as though it was a gift for a child.
A small bribe to make them do as you wished.
You stared at him in disgust and breathed out.
You would not concede.
“A shame.” His hand came to touch the hair that had fallen on your face.
You flinched away, pain spiking in your side again.
“Such a waste. I could have even taken you as my second wife.”
He smiled down at you in thought. Eyes lighting up in excitement as his imagination began to run wild.
“Now wouldn’t that be fun? To see you swell with my babe, and have your family know that it was me who put it inside you.” He crooned.
A tear fell from your eye, rolling down your cheek as you felt horror blanket you. He watched your expression with glee.
“Though, who is to say we should wait? When I could put a bastard inside you now.” Aegon purred, looking at the thin rag of a chemise against your shivering form.
“A bastard for a bastard.” He purred.
Ice cold dread spilt over you.
Please Gods. Not him.
You wriggled away from him, breathing sharply through your nose at the throbbing pain in your side, as you attempted to pull yourself up and away.
King Aegon stood to his full height, towering over you as he looked down in delight.
Is this how they all saw him?
His large hands came to the front of his breeches as he began to slowly untie them, smirking as he watched you scramble backwards towards the far wall of the cell away from him.
Your uncle slowly sauntered toward you, the laces at the front beginning to sag. His smile grew wider as he watched you, enjoying your fear.
“Stop.” You begged quietly, new tears falling from your eyes, “Please.”
His head tilted, “Please? Well since you asked me so nicely.”
Suddenly he lunged for you as you screamed, arms coming out to push him away from you.
“I can be gentle.” He teased you, laughing in your face as he pulled you against the rough stones towards him.
Your back scraped against the floor, skin becoming raw underneath as the chemise pulled up, and bunched away from you, above your hips.
You frantically kicked your legs out at him as he laughed above you. Aegon grabbed your legs painfully before parting them, eyes darting down to your bare centre. His grip on your thighs made you cry out as you screamed at him to stop, and to let you go, begging him softly as you cried.
"Aegon please. Stop."
Your uncle's grip faltered on one of your legs, and your foot shot out, clipping him on the side of his face. He stalled, head still turned away, as you moved to race towards the open door of your cell.
You scrambled on your hands and knees, trying to dizzily catch purchase on the floor and haul yourself up to run.
A hand gripped the back of your hair and swung you painfully down onto the ground, as you landed heavily on your back, air leaving your lungs in a silent cry.
Aegon jumped on top of you, the side of his cheek a soft pink from where your foot had struck him. His face no longer bore the sinister joy from before, but was now hardened with anger and irritation, as your hands came up to try and scratch him.
Anything to get him off of you.
You watched as his hand came down sharply against your side.
You fell still.
You could not breathe, as that same agonising pain rippled up your side, causing your to cry. You saw nothing but white, as the pain bloomed up into your chest, and you felt his weight begin to settle on top of you.
The Targaryen fumbled with the last of his breeches, as you stared at the wall of the cell.
The stone had a layer of green slime on it, the damp causing some sort of moss, or mould to grow along its surface. You had never noticed that before.
How beautiful it must be to grow and thrive in such a dark place.
A large hand pulled at your chemise roughly as you laid flat, trying to catch your breath. You moved weakly beneath him, attempting to push him off of you, as your head swum from the pain radiating in your side.
'Fight back' the little voice in your head screamed.
Your hand came up to smack Aegon’s face, though your blow did not have much impact, only seeming to amuse the man further. His eyes were half lidded, his pupils blown out so that you could barely see the soft lavender of his eyes.
Fight back.
A tear fell down your face. Then another.
The pain was paralysing.
All you could do was watch as his free hand slapped your arm away, before moving down to pull himself from his loosened breeches, which hung lowly on his hips.
It was thick and engorged, its tip a deep blush, weeping arousal onto his hand as he stroked it roughly, smiling down at you. You felt nausea roll through you in new waves as you tried to move away from him, but every time you moved, agony pulled your body closer to the abyss as your vision tunnelled.
“I was going to be gentle, but now I think it will be more fun to break you.” He moaned as he brought his cock between your legs which were wedged open by his hips.
“Please don’t.” You sobbed weakly, trying again to push him off of you with your hands.
“It's too late to beg now.” Your uncle cooed in your ear, as the tip of his cock touched your inner thigh.
Your ears rang.
And you felt a part of you die.
This was it.
This was how you would lose your maidenhead. To your usurper uncle in a cell, alone and in agony.
How you wished you had died when you fell, after all.
The thick head of his cock rubbed roughly against your dry slit as the man above you hummed, trying to find your entrance. The sensation made you gag as you tried to wriggle away from him.
You couldn't breathe.
His tip pushed roughly on your entrance as he tried to force his way inside you. You cried loudly underneath him, as you drowned in fear, his weight pushing you down into the stones below you painfully.
“Ah.” Aegon sighed as the tip of his cock caught against your entrance. You stiffened in his hold as he looked down in you lustfully. A sinister smile gracing his lips.
Then as suddenly as his weight was on you, it was gone.
You blinked up at the ceiling in shock, unable to move. You felt tears fall down your cheeks as you sobbed on the floor, as sounds came from beside you.
You steeled yourself, scrambling backwards, digging your fingers into the stone floor messily, trying to get to the damp green wall of the cell. Your head shifted and the room spun. You blinked at the scene before you. Unsure of what you were witnessing.
A long silver haired figure, swung wildly at the other below.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh made you flinch, as Aemond’s fists came down onto Aegon’s face brutally. You found yourself grow silent as you watched, hiccupping.
Aegon groaned in pain below the younger brother, as he punched back upwards at his attacker.
The One-Eyed Prince's hand snatched the throat of the King, lifting the older brother's head up, before slamming it back down onto the stone below. The younger uncle breathed heavily, looking down at Aegon whose own hands were gripping Aemond’s wrists tightly in anticipation of the next blow.
The King laughed below his brother, nose bleeding and lip split as he gazed up, teeth stained with blood. Aegon’s head reared up, spitting in Aemond’s face, a spray of bloody saliva coating the Kinslayer’s cheek.
Aemond growled, pulling Aegon up to stand before roughly shoving him towards the exit of the cell.
The Usurper King paused and stared at you in amusement, eyes roaming your form as you flattened yourself further against the wall behind you, pulling your tattered chemise against you tightly.
The eldest son of Viserys hand came to brush his hair back, knuckles raw as he spat once more unto the floor before turning away from you, slinking down the corridor calmly as he began to ascend the steps.
You heaved a gag as you turned beside you, your stomach pulling up nothing, mouth dry and side aching with every movement. A broken sob fell from your lips, as you shook against the cold stone, eyes unseeing staring into the darkness.
Someone shifted around you and you flinched, looking up into the cell.
Aemond stood looking down at you, hair neat despite his assault. You looked at his face as his gaze softened for a moment, concern in his lone eye, as he took an unsteady step towards you.
You flinched and scrambled back again, moving sideways along the wall into the corner away from him, the bucket behind you falling as you moved.
Whatever softness was in his gaze fell away, as the mask was put back in place.
Aemond hummed.
With a sharp turn on his heel, Aemond swiftly left your cell, leaving you alone as he stalked up the corridor, and loudly up the stairs back into the Red Keep. You stared at his back as he disappeared.
You sucked in a shaky breath as you watched the stairs where he had exited, anticipating his return. Or Aegon's.
Or both.
Pain strummed in your side as you blinked.
What had just happened?
You felt a new wave of tears begin to well in your eyes, when suddenly you stiffened.
Your eyes darted to the side of your cell.
The cell door was wide open.
Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
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Did Aemond unintentionally left the cell door open or was he just being a loser and a dumb?
Also, been craving for some AemondxReader interaction..
Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Aemond beating the fuck out of Aegon shouldn't have made me as horny as it did but.... here we are. World building for this fic is so much fun.... I'm considering doing an occasional Aemond POV chapter on the side, what do you guys think?
Chapter 36: Flea Bottom
It felt like time stood still.
Your eyes were locked on the open cell door.
Lungs seized and pulled in a greedy breath. Shakily pulling yourself up to stand, you stumbled back, the twinging in your side making you grow dizzier by the second.
Your eyes tunnelled, black seeping into the edges of your vision as your heart raced whilst you stood, leaning heavily against the damp wall behind you.
Shutting your eyes, you breathed in deeply. In for three, out for three. Your vision began to settle.
Six steps was what it took for you to reach the open door of your cell.
Six steps more were what you took as you exited the iron bars.
If it was a trick, then you would soon find out. Aegon was cruel, and Aemond calculating. Perhaps they were waiting for you outside to mock your efforts and tease you of your naivety. You can imagine Alicent, stone faced beside them as they gloated.
The original ring leader.
Yet despite the risk, you still took it.
Each step caused your side to ache and your head to spin, though you pushed yourself through it, forward down the dark corridor. Your ears listening for the sound of guards or the King and Prince above.
You heard nothing and pressed on, reaching the steps.
You lifted a foot and placed it on the cold stone before pulling yourself up the first step and began to count as you ascended the stairs.
One.
Two.
Three.
Your feet were numb from the cold and you sniffled quietly as your heart raced in your chest, one hand clutched tightly against your side to sooth it. Your foot lifted before it paused midair. You raced back down the three steps, into your cell, hand digging roughly into the straw bed before your fingers found the cold steel.
Snatching the broach, you raced back across the room, feet slapping gently against the tiles as you began to dart up the stairs, a headache steadily blooming as you clutched your side in pain. You wound up the steps rapidly as you desperately tried to steel your breaths.
In and out. In and out.
As you wound up and out of the dungeon, more light came into the space from the torches on the wall. Your hand reached out to grab one out of instinct before you snatched your hand back.
You could not be seen.
Soon you reached the top of the stairway, before you snuck out into the darkness of the open halls. You ran silently, sliding against the wall as you raced away from the dungeons below you. All was quiet in the space as you tried to catch your breath and gather your bearings.
Where were they?
Were they hiding in wait for you?
It felt oddly nostalgic, hiding and running in the dark from your uncles, however this time far more sinister than the 'hide 'n' go seek' games you would all play as children.
Your eyes rapidly searched about, catching on the open expanse of a courtyard. You were near one of the servants' paths down to the exit of the Red Keep, along the side, out of sight, out of mind. Your feet dragged you to the path as you began to rapidly dart down the stairs towards Flea Bottom.
Before you, the sky was dark and small lights could be seen in the commoners city below the Keep. Small yellow orbs glowed in windows and paths, illuminating the smaller buildings and houses. You descended the stairs, hand still clutched at your side whilst the other gripped the stone below it.
You needed an out, somewhere to hide, or flee, anywhere but in the Keep, though you knew as soon as your absence was noted, the entirety of the Kings Guard would descend upon Flea Bottom until they found you.
No matter the cost.
Could someone die from their heart exploding in their chest? You were sure you had heard stories of it before. Men's hearts that fluttered in their chest so fast and so hard that suddenly it stopped. Your heart felt like it was trying to escape your rib cage.
As you wound down the stairs, the Red Keep loomed behind you, becoming further and further away, and down below, the sounds of Flea Bottom became louder.
Jovial voices called out to friends or loved ones, jagged singing came from another and lusty moans from the darkened alley ways curled out into the open space. You raced towards it, finally away from the stairs and down the path towards the narrow streets, lined with a sea of people.
Some eyes caught yours, looking at you curiously before others looked away, going back to their entertainment, whereas few watched you closely. You knew that if you were recognised, they may descend on you, taking you back to the King in the hopes of a reward.
You needed a disguise.
You barged your way through the crowd as you ran, hair flying wildly behind you as you began to feel sick from lack of breath and the agony that still rolled through you in waves, made worse with every step.
Ahead of you, a line of robes were hanging on a line, drying after they had been washed. You slowed your step and jumped up, snatching a faded black cloak from the line.
A person cried out in protest as the cloak came down into your hands, “Oi!” They yelled.
You did not turn back as you ran faster, pushing your legs towards a dark alleyway to turn into as you ran through the streets without knowing where to go. You felt like a mouse in a trap, running blindly without any idea of escape.
Your legs ached as you pushed forward, though your speed faltered as you breathed heavily, feeling faint. You slipped into a dark corner of an alley as you swept the cloak over your shoulders and head, covering your hair and casting a deep shadow across your face.
It was unbearably hot as your heart raced, sweat dripping down your brow, as you tried to catch your breath. The pain in your side throbbing with every pump of blood your heart made. You bent forward to suck in a ragged breath, your throat so dry your tongue felt like sand.
Breathlessly you gagged once more, the nausea from running, from the pain and from the sheer horror of the experience, bubbling its way up your throat, though nothing came out.
You're wasting time. Move.
You pushed yourself away from the wall and back out into the busy street. The streets stunk of waste and unclean bodies as you passed. The smell was pungent in your nose, almost enough to make your eyes water.
You walked briskly in the sea of bodies. Men and women drank freely on the street as children wandered aimlessly around them. A woman sat on a wooden chair, eyes milky as she told people's futures. You had never been in Flea Bottom before, and suddenly you realised, Aegon did.
Often.
Aegon knows these streets, he knows these people. He frequents the Silk Lanes, and Flea Bottom and has sired dozens of bastards here. You knew it. They all knew it.
Even the Queen knew it.
He would know his way through here.
This made you panic more.
You looked around in desperation until you saw a small boy standing against a wall, watching the people around him. You stood still, blinking as you looked at the boy whose brown hair messily sat on his head. You blinked again. It was not Lucerys. You felt your body gravitate towards him, feet stumbling in the dark as he watched you come towards him.
As you stood in front of the boy, you looked at him up and down. His hair sat chaotically on his head, loose greasy curls that came down below his ears going in all different directions. He wore a cream coloured shirt that was dirty and crumbled against his body and brown breeches beneath them. His shoes were old and worn, covered in mud.
He would be no older than Lucerys was.
The boy looked at you in annoyance as you gawked.
“What?” He asked gruffly, looking you up and down.
You paused, then blurted out, “Where are the docks?”
You swayed on your feet, feeling fatigue begin to catch up on you, your adrenaline slowly running out.
The boy frowned at you, as if it was a stupid question.
Fuck.
But as you started to panic that you had given yourself away, the disgruntled youth sharply nodded his head upwards, pointing away from you down the path to your side. You nodded you head in thanks, and as you moved swiftly to follow the path, the young boy muttered under his breath.
“Fucking drunk.”
You breathed a breath of relief and moved down the crooked street. The ground below you was dirty, with the stale stench of piss and vomit bathing the air around you. The further you walked down the street, the further away you got from the crowd. Now only a few straggling people were sat in the shadows, talking to each other lowly, or in one case to themselves.
The houses were squished together, and the further you walked the more poverty stricken it became. The bricks were made of reddish and pale stones, though the further down you went, the more the houses came to be made of wood. Crude huts that leant awkwardly, with washing drying on lines above you.
How could the people live like this? In such poverty? How did no one see? How did no one do something?
You pushed on, weaving through the hanging clothes until the air got less dense, and the path widened. The sound of men talking ahead of you made you slink to the shadows again, hiding in the darkness as you snuck down the street.
Ahead of you were the docks, with a large trading ship moored against the wood, a path on its flank for those to walk along the ship, large planks letting those wander back and forth on the boat. They were loading the ship.
Your eyes flicked across the men on the dock. There were more than 20 crew, and two kings guards talking to a man you could only assume was captain. You pressed your back against a shack and breathed in. You needed to not be seen, for if you were caught, you would no doubt be recognised by the guards.
You pulled the hood of the cloak further over your face casting your eyes downwards as you swayed with your step. The young boy thought you were a drunk, now was time to play the part.
If any crew was to see you sneaking around in the shadows they would immediately become suspicious, but not of a drunken commoner stumbling about the dock. You would simply be overlooked. Your bare feet were caked in filth and legs were dirty from days without bathing, the cloak barely covered your shins as you shivered in the pale moonlight.
You walked out of the shadows along the side of the dock, making sure you swayed and stumbled as you had watched Aegon do many times before.
Drunken fuck.
As you swayed towards the dock, you saw large crates and barrels, some empty and some full. Your hand reached out to touch one of the barrels when a booming voice split the air.
“Oi!” The man yelled and you yanked your hand back, “Get away from there.” He growled at you, before turning back to the guards who didn’t spare you a second glance. One of the guards muttered beneath his breath about drunken peasants. You looked at the barrels again before you ducked down behind them.
Breath in. Breath out.
With your free fingertips you grazed your hands along the wood of a crate, the dark oak chipped and worn from use over the years. A net was half hazardously tossed over the top, its rough thread rubbing against your side as you moved along the creates, ears listening for crew coming back.
Looking between a gap through the crate and a barrel you peered at the guards and the captain, their bodies facing away from you as they chatted. The captain seemed relaxed and familiar with the two guards. Perhaps they did this often, or grew up together.
You snuck behind the barrels as you heard footsteps begin to descend from one of the planks coming towards you. You began to panic again. It would definitely cause suspicion if you were caught hiding amongst the barrels and crates. You had to think quick and fast.
Your hand nudged the barrel beside you. It was heavy, but shifted slightly under your hand. It was empty. The footsteps came closer now and you realised with great dread that it was too late. To stand and crawl into the crate now would be to be spotted, you imagined the guards descending on you and taking you straight back to Aegon where he could finish what he started.
You felt frozen in your spot as the footsteps got closer. Your breath caught in your throat as you steadied yourself to be caught. Perhaps you could make a run for it.
“John!” The captain's voice barked across the dock.
The footsteps stopped.
You held your breath as the footsteps faded away from you, as John went to the captain and guards began to whisper to them in hushed tones. Your ears picked up as you listened carefully.
“…escaped…be on the look out…if you see…”
Your heart pounded in your ears.
They knew you had escaped.
You needed to act now.
Sneaking up, you pulled the lid from the barrel carefully watching the guards and two men in front of you, before dipping one leg, and then the other inside. The barrel top was held in your hands as the man named John began to turn around. You watched in horror.
Please Gods, favour me.
But one of the guards caught his attention again, stepping closer to talk to both the captain and crew member. With this pause in their attention, you shoved yourself the rest of the way into the dark barrel, lightly placing the lid above you.
You held your breath inside, out of fear they would hear you and you tucked yourself into a ball. The barrel was tight as you sat inside, your knees roughly brushing against the wood. The squeeze made your side ache painfully as the skin was pulled taut in an odd direction. Your hand was clenched on your side still, inside your palm the three headed dragon broach.
You felt the rough edges in your palm as you listened to the footsteps begin to approach you. Each step got louder, the vibration of its weight tickling the barrel underneath you. You sucked in a silent and short breath as the feet stood in front.
Hands pressed to the outside of the barrel pulling you sideways. You felt yourself tip towards the side and shot your hands out to catch yourself before your head could collide with the other side. The man above you grunted.
“Gods.” He muttered as he hauled the barrel up in his arms.
Your head spinning in the dark as you could not tell which way was up. That same nausea built inside of you, making your stomach turn in knots and skin become sticky.
With every step the man took, the barrel shook you. The steps were loud on the dock's wood until he walked atop the plant, the footfalls sounding more hollow than before. You held your breath as you were rattled around inside, desperately trying to stay upright so as to not knock against the sides.
Then suddenly you were heavily placed on solid ground once more. You listened as the man's footsteps faded away, walking up what you assumed were the same steps you came down. They echoed until there was nothing.
You finally allowed yourself to breathe, listening for sounds of other men nearby. You sat in the barrel and waited, feeling the slight sway of the boat's hull on the water as it rocked you gently back and forth. The man came back several more times, sometimes alone, sometimes with others, as you listened to them place other crates and belongings into what you now knew was the hold of the ship.
You slumped against the edge of the barrel in exhaustion. Eyes beginning to close as you could barely hold them open any longer. You pulled the cloak around you tightly as your legs cramped from being curled up so long.
You would have to wait it out.
No matter how long it took.
The barrel offered a small comfort of protection as it cocooned you in its rough arms. The broach was still firmly pressed against your side as you let the gentle sway of the ship lull you into a deep sleep, adrenaline finally running out.
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