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feyhunter78 · 1 year

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Trials of a Tribute pt. 5

Description: You have a chat with the Dowager Queen, and Aemond fears you regret marrying a monster such as him, unknowing that you are still unaware the two of you have been married.

Previous part here, Next part here

You sat across from the Dowager Queen Alicent, clutching your teacup for dear life as she inspected you. Her brown eyes filled with sorrow swept over you, as she sipped her own tea.

“I do feel for you, dear girl. Being traded like an object is a cruel fate that we as women often find ourselves suffering.” She said, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded, unsure of what to truly say, Aemond hadn’t been cruel to you, nor had he forced himself upon you. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it could’ve been far, far worse.

“Drink up, lest you fall pregnant within your first moon here.” The Dowager Queen urged; her lips pressed into a tight line.

Your eyes widened as you realized exactly what kind of tea this was. “Your Grace, King Aemond has not bedded me.”

Her entire body relaxed. “Thank the Seven, he is still my son.”

You assumed she feared Aemond had taken on the traits of his father and brother now that he had become king, and couldn’t blame her for it. You yourself still feared he would one day soon act upon the Targaryen need for depravity.

“His Majesty, has been very respectful, a true gentleman.” You don’t tell her of how you woke up today with your body half atop Aemond’s, his fingers splayed on your lower back possessively, the smell of parchment and eucalyptus surrounding you.

Dowager Queen Alicent nodded, a small smile on her face. “My Aemond has always been a man of honor.” Then her eyes go to your hand and her eyebrows furrow. “Did you injure yourself?”

You had worn a gown with extra long sleeves, more of a winter dress than was appropriate for the season, with the intention to hide your injury, but obviously your efforts have failed.

You held your hand close to your chest. “No, Your Grace, it’s from the Valyrian ritual.” At her look of confusion, you continued. “With the septon, and the dagger? King Aemond and I mixed our blood together. He said it was common ritual in House Targaryen.”

The dowager queen was silent for a moment, then she nodded, plastering a smile on her face. “Ah, yes, there are so many rituals, I forget them from time to time.” She glanced at Sir Criston who avoided her frantic eyes. "Sir Cole, escort Lady y/n back to her chambers, then fetch Aemond and tell him I wish to speak to him.”

You stood and took Sir Criston’s arm. “A pleasure to speak with you, Queen Alicent.”

“You as well, dear.” She called as Sir Criston all but strong-armed you from the room.

“Sir Criston, did I do something to upset the dowager queen?” You asked, as he led you down an unfamiliar hallway.

“Why do you ask that?”

“She ended our tea so abruptly, and she simply seemed to be troubled by something.”

He stopped you in front of a door you didn’t recognize. “The queen mother has many things on her mind, but I can assure you her anger sits not with you.”

You followed him into a barren room. “These are your quarters; I’d advise you to stay out of sight. We had many noblemen attempting to bring their daughters as tribute, and they are quite angry at being turned away.”

Dowager Queen Alicent had pulled you away from Aemond, leaving him to accept tributes alone, as she kindly but thoroughly interrogated you on every aspect of your life.

You bid the night a farewell and looked around the room. It wasn’t much to look at, but it had a lovely view of the gardens.

Pushing open the window, you carefully sat on the windowsill, breathing in the fresh air. You gazed down at the meticulously planted flowers, imagining how happy your sisters would be to see such a sight.

You didn’t know how long you sat there before the door slammed open, and you jumped, scooting backward, further into the room, suddenly afraid of the distance between you and the ground.

Two strong arms pulled you from the windowsill, caging you against a hard chest, the silver hair that brushed your shoulders made you relax.

“Aemond? Is everything alright?” You asked, turning your head to look at him.

His shoulders were tense, his eye filled with a frantic fear and rage. “What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?”

“What?” You said, letting out a small noise of surprise when he threw you onto the nearby bed and quickly hovered over you. Caging you in with his arms, his hair falling forward and shielding your faces.

“You were going to jump, because you couldn’t stand to be married to such a monster, but your life is mine, prūmia. No one, not even the Stranger himself, will take you from me. I care not if you call him yourself, or another attempts to, no one will separate us.” He seethed, his eye burning into yours, his voice was low and rolled across your skin like a storm, the hairs on your skin standing upright in response.

“I wasn’t trying to take my own life; I was merely admiring the gardens.” You explained, before your mind fully processed his words. “Wait, married?”

“I’m aware that my mother informed you of the true nature of what occurred last night.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “No, she said nothing. Aemond, are we married? You shouldn’t have—” You were cut off by Aemond’s warm lips brushing down your neck, stopping at your pulse point when you let out a small whimper.

His acknowledging hum vibrated against the sensitive skin. “You’re mine, I told you that. As of last night it was made true, the septon bore witness to our union, so did Sir Criston.”

“But I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have done it if I knew.” You protested lightly, still afraid to upset Aemond.

“Because you don’t wish to be married to a monster, I know.” He snapped, pulling back to glare at you.

You shook your head. “It’s not that at all, I don’t think you’re a monster, nor do I have any personal qualms about marrying you but, it’s not truly up to me.”

“You’re correct, it’s not up to you, it’s up to me, and I wished to marry you.” He spoke his words into your skin before he attached his lips to your sensitive spot, nipping and sucking until a red mark bloomed, its sting soothed by his tongue.

“But you shouldn’t have, I’m from a small house, there are much better options and oh…” Your voice dissolved into nothing as Aemond continued his ministrations, his fingers running through your hair, his lips latched onto every bit of exposed skin they can find.

“I’m king of the Seven Realms, I will marry who I wish.” He said firmly, his eye flickering up to yours as his lips made their way to the swell of your breasts.

Your face burned once more, and you attempted to push him away. “Aemond, please, this is not proper.”

He stopped and sat up, a distant look on his face. “You’re right.”

You sat up as well, smoothing down your hair. “Thank you, now we really must get this marriage business straightened out.”

He frowned. “Do you not wish to be queen?”

You swallowed hard. “I don’t think I have the education to be a good queen.”

This series masterlist here!!!

Tag list: @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhhaa, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon

Strikethrough means I couldn't tag you for some reason!

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #king!aemond #dark!aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #meg's writing #tot series #not a lot of aemond in this one tbh #innocent!reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd fanfics #aemond one eye #whoever snitched on me and got part 2 of this flagged your mom's a hoe

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fawnandshadows · 2 years

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Fawn Fest — Prices and Vices

Prompt: Halloween + Costume Party

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Language maybe? Nothing extreme

The skirt of her costume was much shorter than Elain remembered, or maybe it was the fact that she didn’t try it on with her bright pink boots with four inch heels before. But as she stood outside the door of Feyre and Rhys’s penthouse she was acutely aware of how much leg she was showing, and her hands clutched her pink glittery skirt in an attempt to hold it down.

She watched as the door slowly opened in front of her, and Feyre’s drunken, smiling face beamed at her. Her tight, spandex catwoman costume clung to her form, and she forgoed any type of mask, but Elain found the kitten ears on her head and the tail sticking out from her back to be adorable.

“You’re here!” Feyre exclaimed, throwing her arms around her sister, and Elain could smell the alcohol on her breath. It wasn’t often that Feyre let herself get like this, but it always made Elain happy to see her older sister relaxed and free.

“Sorry I’m late,” Elain said as she stepped into the penthouse, her eyes floating to the crush of bodies crammed into the large space — Elain didn’t recognize anyone. “My wings were giving me trouble.” She motioned to the green wings sticking out of her back, which bobbed with her movements.

Feyre took a step back and looked at her sister's costume, her blue eyes smiling in recognition.

“Flora.”

“Sexy Flora.” A new voice said, and Elain felt the blood rush to her cheeks at the words.

Her brown eyes drifted to Nesta, who was leaning against the wall and smirking at her sisters.

“Not sexy,” Elain replied, crossing her arms and immediately dropping them at the way it showcased her cleavage. “Just Flora,” Nesta rolled her eyes with a smile and Elain took the opportunity to take in her costume: leggings, Cassian’s oversized t-shirt with no bra underneath, and unbrushed hair. Elain’s mind was blank. “And you’re a book character?”

It was a shot in the dark, but Nesta nodded with a smile.

“Lily Calloway.”

Elain smiled in excitement, grateful that she took her sister's recommendation to read the series, and she felt a switch of recognition flip in her mind.

“It’s perfect! Is Cassian Lo?”

Nesta’s amusement faded, and she rolled her eyes without affection.

“Sadly, no.”

Just then Cassian turned into the cramped hallway they were standing in, and Elain felt her eyes bug out of her head. He stood completely naked in nothing but a diaper that looked ready to fall off, and it was likely held together by two comically large safety pins at his hips.

“Baby?” Elain asked, keeping her eyes on his face and not his abs.

Cassian pointed to himself with a grin and replied, “Sexy baby.”

Elain couldn’t stop the guttural snort that sounded from her throat.

“And where’s the monster on the hill?

Cassian’s smile grew as Elain understood the reference he was making with his costume.

“Not you, obviously, since you showed up as a sexy fairy and not the gargoyle costume I got for you.”

Now it was Elain’s turn to roll her eyes at his teasing.

“I’m Flora, not a sexy fairy.” Elain said, nervously adjusting the glove-like sleeves on her arms.

“Azriel will be happy.” Nesta’s sly voice broke through the awkwardness that Elain was feeling, and a surge of warmth flooded her body.

“Why would Azriel be happy?” Elain asked, her heart skipping in her chest. “Is Gwyn here?”

“Yes,” Nesta said with a shrug. “But that’s not what I was talking about.” Her blue eyes focused on Elain’s favorite part of the costume — the rose necklace that laid at the base of her throat, the one that Azriel had given her last year at Christmas.

All three of them fixated on the jewelry, and their expressions all turned into a mixture of pity and sympathy. All of them all undoubtedly remembering that last Christmas, where Elain and Azriel were caught under the mistletoe, where they would have kissed if Rhysand had never interrupted them. Where they all watched as Elain opened up her necklace on Christmas morning, and then two days later Azriel started dating a certain redhead.

Gwyn, his on and off again girlfriend for the past year.

Elain simply shrugged, ignoring the way they all stared at her.

“Let’s get you a drink.” Feyre exclaimed, draping her arm over her sister's shoulder and leading her towards the kitchen.

They brushed past Nesta and Cassian who lingered in the entryway hall, and Elain let her eyes sweep the crowd of bodies and told herself that she wasn’t looking for anyone in particular. Certainly not someone that stood well above six feet with curling dark hair, smoldering hazel eyes, and hands burned with scars of his past.

She didn’t see him anyway.

And she didn’t see Gwyn.

Elain pushed that knowledge to the back of her brain and focused on the red solo cup that Feyre handed to her.

“Rhys left to get some more drinks,” Feyre explained, her voice rising above the music as Elain took a sip of a cocktail that most likely had more alcohol than she realized. “Amren and Varian took Nyx trick-or-treating, and Azriel is here…somewhere.”

Elain nodded and took another sip.

“Do you want to dance?” Elain asked, and her sister nodded with excitement.

This almost never happened, the two of them finding each other.

Feyre was almost always with her husband or son, and Elain had been avoiding a lot of family events — not wanting to see Azriel with a redhead draped over him. Even before everything, Elain and Feyre had never exactly been close. Elain always found herself in the role of family peacemaker, which was surprisingly lonely.

Elain finished her drink, which Feyre refilled along with getting another one for herself, and the two sisters drifted towards the living-room-turned-dance-floor.

––––

Elain was unaware of the passing of time.

With each sip of her drink she lived more and more in the moment. Simply enjoying the bass of the music that pounded through the room, and the way that her and Feyre enjoyed each others company — ignoring the rest of the crowd and doing the silly, ridiculous dance moves that would have embarrassed them if it wasn’t for the copious amounts of alcohol.

Neither of them were aware of anyone else until Batman walked up behind Feyre, planted his hands on her hips, and kissed her from behind. The pink of his tongue flashing at he plundered her mouth.

Elain froze. And from the way Feyre was leaning into the embrace, Elain deduced that Rhysand was the one in the costume and slowly backed away. Regressing to her normal role in family functions.

Suddenly, the heat generated by all those dancing bodies became overbearing and suffocating, and Elain found herself desperate for chilled night air. So, she shoved her way through the crowd, ignoring the grasping hands of people trying to dance with her. A familiar song started pouring through the speakers, and she heard Cassian holler in excitement.

Elain looked over her shoulder as she approached the glass door that led to the balcony and saw Cassian standing on a table, grinning from the attention and the excitement of his costume getting the spotlight.

Her hand slowly twisted the door handle and she opened the door just enough to slip outside.

The cool air was a balm on her sweaty skin.

She took unsteady steps forward and laid her hands on top of the cool stone balcony.

Elain took a deep breath, her eyes closing as she took a drink of the night air. Brisk. Chilled…smoky?

Her eyes drifted open, taking in the gleaming cityscape of Velaris, before turning her head to the left and seeing that she wasn’t alone on the balcony.

She immediately locked onto a scarred hand that held a cigarette precariously between his fingers.

A small war battled inside of her, her happy drunkenness and a startling sobriety that started at the sight of Azriel.

A blonde wig sat on his head, and he wore way too many layers — including a suspiciously accurate, leather like tunic over a bright red, long sleeve shirt — that Elain thought he might still be sweltering in the Halloween air.

The drunkenness won.

“You look hot as a blonde.” Elain said, slowly walking towards him, and not even registering the words that passed over her tongue.

Azriel’s eyebrow quirked at the words, and his lips twitched in amusement.

He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t stop her as Elain took the cigarette from his hand and brought it to her lips. His face stayed neutral as Elain sputtered and coughed from her first drag of a cigarette.

Her disgruntled face scrunched as she looked at the burning cigarette, smoke leaving her mouth as she said, “I still don’t understand why you do this.”

She held out the cigarette to him, but he didn’t take it.

His hazel eyes slowly traced her body, and Elain could have sworn she felt his large hands on her.

For a second, he stood still, but then he grabbed the cigarette from her and instead of taking a drag like Elain expected, he took a step closer to her and brought his hand up to her lips.

“Try again.” Azriel quietly demanded.

“Of course…Daemon.” Elain said teasingly, but the dark heat that flashed in his eyes caused excitement to prick at her spine.

She wrapped her lips around the cigarette, and she heard Azriel’s low voice say, “Slowly, not too much,” Elain did as she was told, and when he took the cigarette away she followed his instructions and breathed out.

“Very good…Flora.” Azriel said with approval, a smile forming on his lips.

“I’m surprised you recognized my costume.” Elain said, almost sheepishly, delighting in the way that Azriel tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear.

“I know she’s one of your favorites.” Azriel said tenderly, his eyes softening.

Elain never kept it a secret which characters she loved, and which ones she didn’t. Her close friend's story on instagram was constantly filled with her favorite media, and as much as she tried to stop herself, she always wanted to see whether or not Azriel looked at her story. He almost always did. Which meant that he also knew her latest obsession.

And he dressed up as her latest crush.

Even in her drunken state, she knew that nothing with Azriel was accidental.

Her heart clenched at the knowledge. At the intense way he was looking down at her.

“Where’s Gwyn?” Elain asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Azriel kept his face impassive as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“We got in a fight and she left,” Azriel shrugged. “Apparently I couldn’t take my eyes off of a certain sexy fairy. Her words, not mine.”

Elain brought her tongue out to wet her dry lips, and Azriel’s hazel eyes followed the movement. She accepted his offering as he brought the cigarette back to her lips.

“Then I guess you should use some company tonight.”

His eyes watched the smoke that fell from her mouth and mingled with the night air, and then they dropped to the necklace that hung around her neck.

“I’ll get us some drinks.” Azriel said, handing the cigarette back to Elain. He waited all of five seconds, giving her time to excuse herself, before slipping back into the house.

Elain’s hands shook and small ashes fell from her hand as she waited for him.

——

Part Two

——

tagging: @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @alwayssara @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes s @magnolia-blossom87 @sheena-beene @nivem565

#fawnandshadows fawn fest #Halloween fic #elriel #elain x azriel #my obsessions are showing #Taylor swift and the addicted series and HOTD and daemon 😀#and my love of flora #and the 1975 #yes that image is from the robbers video #I’m regressing back to 2014 #I’m starting a sexy part 2 #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #fawnandshadows writing

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