Chapter Text
Alys watched as the armies of Green marched into the castle. She wasn’t stupid. She was aware of what followed. Prince Daemon had left the hold, but the Strongs were still in captivity. She had managed to escape the wrath because she was a bastard and worked as a servant in the castle. People thought it would be over once Daemon left, but she knew better. Vhagar had been spotted, and everyone knew what that meant. Alys had seen an image in the fire yesterday of a huge dragon taking over the castle. That was going to be true now.
Alys had survived through the years in this wretched castle. She had done a lot to survive, creating a web of lies around her skills, allowing her to be protected. Somehow she had the feeling that would not help her should the Prince decide he was bored.
She went through the dresses of the late lady. She needed something nice, not too nice, but nice enough. Her eyes stopped on a green dress, fine fabric but not too much decoration, something that may be a wealthy merchant’s wife would wear or lower lady, but at the same time not too rich. She took her clothes off and got in the dress without losing a moment. Alys walked to the mirror nearby, brushed her hair, and ensured she looked as best as possible. She had dreamed about this day, how a dragon would eat Harrenhal. She was not going to allow this dragon to finish her.
Aemond walked through the courtyard, slowly observing the servants and soldiers lined there. All of them kneeled, including lord Simon Strong and his grandchildren. The man was practically ancient, uncle or a grand uncle of that snake Larys. Aemond really couldn’t care less about their exact relationship. Daemon had shoved him into the dungeon after taking over the castle. Ser Crisoton freed him as he retook the castle.
“My Prince.” The man greeted him and bowed even lower, but the prince ignored him. He wasn’t in the mood for that. He was frustrated Daemon was not here. It had seemed like such a good day to drive a sword through his uncle’s chest.
As he walked and observed the line of people, his eye fell on a woman dressed in green. She was so out of place, but her clothes were not ripped or dirty and left very little to his imagination. They were clean, in sharp contrast to everyone else, including lord Strong, who seemed like he had been dragged through mud and ash.
“What’s your name?” He asked the woman as he studied her carefully, long black hair was covering her shoulders, and dark green eyes looked at him under long lashes. Her skin was flawless. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years of age.
“Alys Rivers, my prince.” Her voice was low, but there was confidence in it. He watched as his full lips moved, and suddenly he didn’t want to be here, pretending he cared about the castle or the Strongs.
“A bastard’s name.” Aemond raised an eyebrow. His mother probably would have a thing to say about that, but she was not here, and Aemond could do whatever he wanted.
“Lord Strong was my father.” She responded to him without being asked. Aemond had to admit he was impressed. Most of the people in front of him were terrified or just exhausted. She spoke to him as if he was a guest in her house, and he was asking for hospitality.
“Don’t mind her, my prince. She is a simple bastard girl who has been serving us for years.” Lord Strong spoke. Aemond could see the man was embarrassed or perhaps worried. After all, almost every Lord Strong had been killed by his family.
“But my lord, Strong bastards are one of my favorite activities for passing the time. Bring her to my chambers.” He was disappointed that Daemon was not here, angry he and Criston had to come to this wretched place because the old man could not keep the castle. He had to relieve some of that stress.
He didn’t miss seeing ser Criston look at him. It wasn’t a judgment. It was a reminder that they had more important stuff to do. He watched as the girl followed his guards, but then he was attracted by the maester who rushed into the courtyard.
“My prince, from King’s Landing.” The old man’s hand was shaking as he passed the message. That was all he needed to know. The news wasn’t good.
Aemond read the scroll, his expression not changing. He re-read it again, and anger started building even faster in his mind. Daemon had tricked them, he had come all the way here with half of his army, and his uncle wasn’t even here. His mind went to his poor sister and mother, his young nephew, and Aemond lost control. He passed the scroll ser Criston and then looked around. Strong was still there, the girl was still there, no one beside him and Criston knew, yet he felt like everyone was staring at him as if they were part of a plot. And why not? Driving him and Vhagar away would have certainly helped. He looked around again. This was a huge castle. Caraxes and Daemon were dangerous, but indeed this place could have withstood.
“Lord Simon, I thought you to be a fragile old man. I must have underestimated you.” Aemond walked back. He hoped his family was fine, but whenever a thought about them crossed his mind, he got angrier.
“My prince, I am afraid I don’t understand.” The old lord smiled unsurely. Suddenly, the castle felt very silent.
“I’m looking at this ugly castle, and sure there is still damage from Aegon’s dragon, over a hundred years old, but it’s a big castle. It could last a week or two, maybe even a month.” Aemond was so close to the lord that the man stepped back, bumping into the knight behind him.
“My prince, you have to understand, he was here with Caraxes. Nothing could be done against a dragon.” The man was shaking.
“Nothing? Dragons have been dying left and right these days. The whole kingdom is after some dragon blood, and you are the only person convinced dragons can’t be killed.” He was furious. He saw treaters and plots everywhere. Had it not been for this weak old man, he probably would have been feasting over Daemon’s corpse.
“Aemond…” Criston stepped behind him and placed his hand on the prince’s shoulder. “We should take that inside.”
The prince didn’t care to take anything inside. He looked at Vhagar. The beast landed on one of the walls, looking uneasy.
“You are a traitor, my lord.” Aemond finally said. “You have helped my uncle distract me, and now you will pay for that.”
“Aemond, I found this man in the dungeon. They were Daemon’s prisoners, not here to feast with him.” Cole almost whispered in his ear, but Aemond had already decided what he wanted to do.
“Why don’t you prove your innocents to me? Every man has the right to a trial, after all.” Aemond undid his belt and pulled the sword out of the sheath. At that point, Lord Strong was pale and on death’s doorstep. Aemond waited with probably more patience than he could muster, given the circumstances. Eventually, the man turned and took a sword from one of the household knights. He had to give it to the Strongs; bravery was not a virtue they lacked.
The fight wasn’t really a fight. Aemond was one of the best swordsmen in the realm. He was faster than anyone he had dueled in the past. He disarmed the old man in three moves. He could have probably done it in one, but he decided to release some anger into the strength of his sword swing.
“Mercy, my prince, I have committed no treason. I swear by the old gods and the new, I have been a faithful servant to our king Aegon and Lord Larys Strong, I was too afraid of prince Daemon and his dragon, but I see the mistake now.” The man was on his hands and knees, bowing so close he was probably about to kiss his boots.
“Are we done here?” Criston asked him impatiently. No, they were not done here. Aemond’s anger was not even close to calming.
“You were afraid of the wrong prince.” Aemond raised his sword and, with a single swift motion, cut off the left hand from the man. Simon Strong started screaming. Blood sprayed everywhere on Aemond’s clothes, ser Criston’s pretty white cloak. Someone screamed, and someone else cried. Aemond grabbed the severed hand and threw it at Vhagar. The dragon swallowed it without even chewing. The prince chopped two more pieces of his lordship before the man lost consciousness or died didn’t even matter. He continued hacking until every part of Lord Strong was fed to Vhagar.
“Are we done now?” Criston Cole seemed to be the only one who was not phased by the scene. Aemond wasn’t done. He was going to end every Strong and feed them to his dragon.
“No, we are not.” He pointed his sword at Lord Strong’s grandchildren, who were sobbing so loud they probably didn’t even see what was happening.
“Remove their heads and be done. Killing an old man is enough. You don’t need to be killing children.” Sir Criston grabbed his sword hand. Aemond was so angry that he considered attacking him for a moment, but some small part of sanity kept him in control.
“Certainly, I wouldn’t want to appear a butcher.” the prince smiled and looked at one of his guards. “Remove the head of everyone related to the Strongs, feed the bodies to Vhegar, put the heads on spikes, so everyone knows what happens to traitors. As he said that, he saw the two guards walking to the dark-haired woman, grabbing her, and walking her toward the rest. “Not her.” he licked his lips as he watched the terror on her face. “I have other plans for her. Walk her to my rooms and lock her there.”
Alys wished she could first go to her rooms or the Maester’s tower. There were potions she could use right now, but the soldier walked her straight into the lord’s chambers of the castle, and there was that. She had to rely on her charms and faith in her skills. She had seen a vision of a dragon in her bed, but if she had learned something about her visions, they were never easy to read. This one could mean millions of things, but at least it gave her faith that she could be desirable to the man. Would that save her life? Before the prince killed the Stromgs, in her mind, the worse that could happen was being rejected mauve and being cast away from the castle. A woman with skills would always find a place, but that wasn’t an option. If this man walked in the room now, she had to do everything she could to survive.
Minutes passed since the guards left her in the room before the prince came in. Alys never lacked confidence. She was a bastard who had survived a lot in this castle. She had a reputation she liked, monstrous enough to keep people away from her. She was more than aware of what people talked about behind her back, that she was a witch, that Alys would charm people and kill those who wronged her, and that she was hundred years old. Alys didn’t mind; it had saved her before and would also save her now. It was not all a lie, she had lied and killed and done terrible stuff to survive, but once rumors had started crawling all over the place, she did nothing to stop them.
The man in front of her, however, was a different story. His reputation was well-proven and what he just did in the courtyard was proof of that. When prince Deamon had taken over the castle, she was afraid, but that turned out to be more of a disturbance than a real danger to her. Prince Aemond just killed almost everyone in her family.
“My prince.” She greeted him with an elegant curtsy, ensuring she bent her knees as low as she could. Men had been going after her since she was thirteen. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what would attract him, a prince or a commoner. The same desires drove everyone, and she knew his blood was boiling after what she witnessed.
Aemond didn’t say a thing. He just walked slowly and then circled her, studying every inch of her. The prince had removed the black armor he had arrived in and now was wearing a leather jacket, pants, and boots. He was handsome, at least that would make things easier, but something was terrifying in the way he looked. It wasn’t even the fact that he missed an eye. His curved lips and single purple eye spark made him look as dangerous as his dragon.
He stopped right in front of her, and before Alys could realize what was happening, his hand lashed at her throat, pushing her against the nearby wall. He was significantly stronger than her, his fingers digging into her skin and making breathing hard. Her feet barely touched the floor as she started choking under his grip.
“You are pretty.”He tilted his head while studying her face. “Pretty for a Strong. You lack their brutish features.” For the first time in her life, Alys was truly terrified. She had relied on her vision so much that the idea he might kill her at this very moment had not crossed her mind. Alys hoped she would at least have the chance to seduce him, making death less likely. Now that she was face to face with the man, she could see her mistake. He was a terror, a dragon in human flesh.
“I…could be useful…to my prince.” The words barely left her mouth as she was choking at every sound.
A moment passed, and Alys could swear she was about to die, just like her great-grandfather and the rest of them. Probably should also end up as food to his dragon. That didn’t happen. He released his grip but did not let go of her throat. However, she could step on her own feet and breath once again.
“Why? I just killed your family. You are also dressed well for a bastard.” His eye was not leaving sight of her. Alys recognized the look, it was obvious what he wanted, and it was not a small chat.
“The dress I took from the lady’s chambers, and the only mercy the Strongs had ever shown me is to allow me to live in this castle as a servant. I have no love for them.” It wasn’t a lie; everyone knew she was a bastard, but she was not treated differently than the servant girls. The image she created for herself kept her safe and protected. Her skills and wits helped her survive, not the fact of who her father was.
“Are you scared?” He ran a finger over the skin on her cheek, almost gently, but Alys wasn’t naive enough to take that gesture as a sign that the danger was over.
“No, my prince.” She answered with confidence. “I saw a vision that you would come to the castle and save me from my life. I know you can kill me today, tomorrow, or a month from now, but I believe it will be more pleasant for us if you keep me alive.”
“My sister has visions. They never make sense until they do.” Alys sensed the change in his demeanor, there was still so much anger there, but the purple fire in his eye slowed down. “Did you dream of me killing them?”
“No, my prince. I dreamt of a dragon in my bed, on top of me.” She moved her hand toward him, Aemond’s first reaction was to grab the handle of his dagger, but that was not where her fingers reached. She kept her palm between his legs, slowly stroking him and feeling how much he wanted her. “I could be of service to you, more than just a warm body in your bed.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, he did allow her to move despite his hand still being on her throat, but he did not respond to the kiss.
“Show me.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Show me how much your life means to you.”
Aemond watched as she reached for his belt and started undoing it. Her hands moved with confidence. It was apparent that wasn’t the first time she had done it. There were a lot of things he wanted to do. Grab her and throw her on the bed, make her scream until the two of them were out of breath, but he decided it would be more entertaining if she led the way. After all, it was her life she was trying to save. His dagger and sword fell with loud noise as she released the belt from his waist. Maybe he should be more careful. He had just killed her family, and his weapons were more than an arm’s reach away. There was something about her that made him desire her. She was beautiful. There was no denying it. Her skin looked like porcelain, perfect and smooth. Her eyes reminded him of emeralds, so bright and filled with spark, and that raven black hair he wanted to pull and caress simultaneously. Looking at her calmed the anger in his head but drove very different impulses. He felt enchanted, and she was barely even touching him.
Alys fell to her knees. Her green eyes fixed on his purple one as her hands skilfully undid the ties on his pants and pulled them down to his knees. She was still looking at him as her lips gently brushed against the tip of his cock before she used her tongue to taste him. Aemond groaned deep in his throat. She was teasing him and playing with him. That wasn’t something he expected. Most women, in her situation, would do everything to please him as fast as they could. Still, then again, he found her actions intriguing. Just as slowly, she took him in her mouth, inch by inch. It was the most pleasant torture he had experienced. As his tip reached the back of her throat, he could feel her fighting for air, struggling to keep him all the way in, but she did not move for a long moment. Once she finally did, he placed both hands on the wall before him. The speed she picked was one he probably would have pushed on her, her lips moving up and down his length, her tongue brushing against as skin. It was almost as if she could read his mind about how fast he wanted it. He could feel the pressure in him building, every moan she made, every wet sound that escaped her mouth, pushing him closer to the edge until she suddenly stopped.
“Nobody told you to stop.” Aemond groaned in frustration, his hand immediately grabbing her hair and pulling hard enough to cause pain. The anger that had taken over him minutes ago had turned into frustration.
“My lord asked me to show him how much my life means to me, and that is what I intend to do.” Alys pushed herself up, even if Aemond did not release the grip on her hair. As he watched her, she took her dress off, letting it fall to her ankles. Aemond didn’t lack imagination, but the perfection of her body was beyond what he had even imagined. Every curve and line was created to attract and seduce him. Before he could say or do something, she grabbed his free hand and pushed it between her legs. Aemond groaned, feeling how wet she was. It was hard to decide what turned him on more right now, that she took him in her mouth so skilfully, with no hesitation, or that that turned her on. Even more surprising, she looked him right in the eye that whole time. Even for a second, she did not avert her gaze. That was certainly new. Most people found it hard to keep eye contact with him because of the scars. Something was intimidating about that.
“I want to feel you in me, my prince.” She moaned as he pushed two of his fingers into her.
Aemond didn’t need a second invitation. His body moved on its own as if it was enchanted. He turned her around, pushing her onto the bed behind the two of them, almost tripping in his pants in the process. He didn’t bother to undress; his leather jacket was still on him, his boots on his feet, but he didn’t care about any of that. He felt possessed. All he needed and wanted at this moment was to be with her.
Alys moaned as the prince pushed in her, his weight making it hard for her to move. Aemond picked a relentless pace, he wasn’t rough, but he was not gentle either. He felt good. She realized the two of them fit so well at this moment that everything was working out perfectly, even without her using any potions or magic. She was getting lost in pleasure, something she had never experienced before. She had used sex to get what she needed; that was not different, yet it was. His lips started kissing her neck and collarbones, and she could do nothing but moan, wrapping her legs around him and inviting him even deeper into her. Her hand ran through his hair until her fingers touched the straps of his eyepatch. Alys couldn’t explain what she did, but she pulled the strap away, throwing it on the floor.
Aemond suddenly stopped, his mouth not on her anymore, but his eye fixed on hers. Everyone knew how he lost the other eye, everyone had seen the scar, but she saw everything now.: the traces of the stitches, how his wound had healed, and the empty hole where his eye was missing. There was silence between the two of them. He waited, and she did not avert her eyes.
“Do you like what you see?” He finally asked as his lips curved into a threatening smile.
“I don’t dislike it.” She didn’t find the way he looked repulsive. There was something scary in it, ghostly, but it did not terrify her enough to avert her gaze.
Aemond continued smiling like he did before he fed Lord Strong to his dragon. It wasn’t a pleasing smile, more like a threat or a promise that she had done something she would regret. Alys knew she was at his mercy, but she had confidence in what she did, so instead of turning her eyes away, she continued to look at him. His hips started moving slowly, but this time there were no kisses. He was looking at her as he was driving in as deep as he could, making her moans turn into screams. The prince didn’t break eye contact until he came, Alys following right with him, but even then, she forced herself to maintain her eyes on his face.
Once Aemond caught his breath, he rolled next to her on the bed, still breathing heavily, his silver hair wet. Alys didn’t dare move. She could still feel the pleasure between her legs and the anger he had poured on her.
“What did you do to me?” He groaned as he lay down, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
The answer was nothing. Alys wished she could use a potion or something on him, she knew of herbs that could drive him crazy with lust and force him to ask for more, but she never had the chance to get to them. Whatever happened now, whatever he was feeling, good or bad, that was all in his head without help.
“Is his highness unhappy?” Alys was about to roll over and look at him, but Aemond was faster. As soon as she finished the sentence, he was on top of her, one hand next to her head supporting his weight, the other grabbed her jaw and forced her eyes on him.
“Do you know how many women have looked at me the way you are doing it right now and not turned their eyes away?” He licked his lips, but she didn’t answer. “None, even with the eyepatch over my face. Most find it disturbing. No one will say it to my face, but I can see it. They are scared.”
“I have seen scarier things than a missing eye, my prince.” There were scarier things in this world than a few scars and a missing eye. What he could do to her if he decided she wasn’t interesting enough was scarier.
“Where are your chambers?” He asked as he rolled back next to her.
“With the rest of the servants.” She responded, suddenly realizing she probably got ahead of herself. She put too much faith in her skills. Maybe her charms worked on the men here, but he was a prince, blood of the dragon, and perhaps that was not enough. Alys pulled herself up, taking his words as a sign she should leave.
“Bring me some wine.” That was not the answer she expected. She did not expect an answer at all. However, she did as she was told, walking still naked to the corner of the room where a wine jug and glasses were placed on a small table. She poured a cup for him and brought it back. Aemond was sitting on the corner of the bed, removing his black leather jacket and boots. She passed him the cup, and he finished it in one go, throwing the cup to the far end of the room. “Strong needs to consider his taste in wine.” Then he laughed. “If he were alive. Do you have anyone? Husband? Lover? Siblings? Children? ”
“No, my lord.” Saying that the Strongs were her family would be an exaggeration at best. No one in the castle liked her due to who and what she was. Although she had had lovers in the past, she had no attachment to them or them beyond the attraction to what was between her legs. She moved closer and slowly sat in his lap, her face just an inch away from his. Aemond ran his hands over her hips and stopped at her waist. He was naked in front of her now, and Alys could see some faint blade scars over his body. Not surprising, the man was a warrior. It was showing in the way he moved and held himself.
“You belong to me now, do you understand?” He moved his right hand up and placed his thumb over her lips. Alys nodded, people said she bargained with demons, and while that was not exactly true, she felt as if she was selling something to the darkest demon.
“Yes, my prince.” Her throat felt dry as she spoke. She reached for his face and ran a finger over the scar, starting at his forehead. She traced the line to his eyebrow but stopped just before the hole that used to be his eye. “I’m yours.”