The Dragon in the North - Aemond Targaryen

18.

TW: mentions of sexual assault

Vyara

I stride into his rooms, full of anger and confusion. I glare at him as he stands from his seat, he's still wearing that stupid smug look, as well as a very nice suit and I inwardly seethe as my body responds to how handsome he is.

He comes to greet me and I stand back from him as he closes the distance between us, I have no patience for how my body will react when ours touch.

"Vyara?"

I walk around him and sit on the opposite couch, pouring myself a large glass of wine as he sits down, downing it in one.

"What's wrong?" he looks concerned, which makes me angrier.

"What are you playing at?" I blurt out. He stays silent, frowning at me. He reaches across the table to touch my arm and I automatically snap it away.

"What are you talking about?"

I stare at the wall, why is he playing stupid.

"You cannot act this way, it is bad enough in private Aemond, you cannot single me out in front of half of the court the way you did this afternoon."

"Why not?"

I stare at him now and lean back. "Do you think I will be your whore? Has my indiscretion last night made you think so lowly of me?" I say, full of venom.

He is silent for a moment, I stare back at the wall.

"I do not think you will be my whore."

"Good, as it will never happen," silence. "I want leave to return to Winterfell," I say stubbornly.

"You are not going anywhere," he says coldly, his whole demeanour has changed in seconds.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so," I want to hit him. Silence.

"If you will not let me leave, I must insist that you stay away from me," I say shortly, I want to get out of here as soon as possible.

Silence. I can't look at him, I am still seething. I push my chair back and stand up, turning for the door when he shoots out of his chair. I turn my back to him and start striding from the door when he gets in front of me.

"Sit back down," he says calmly, but from the look on his face I know he's anything but calm.

"Fuck off," he's blocking my path now.

"That's an order, I don't want to have to remind you that I am your prince," he says, quietly but angrily.

I look at him blankly before I go back and take my seat, not wanting to admit to myself that he scares me. He sits right next to me and I shuffle along away from him but he closes the gap and pulls me towards him quite roughly.

"Don't touch me," I spit but he continues until his arms are around me and my body is singing. He is behind me so I do not have to look at him. I stay still, willing my body not to slump into his arms as it's begging to do.

Silence. I'm not sure for how many minutes we don't speak. He strokes my neck and my arm while we sit together and I refuse to enjoy it. I feel so tired and overwhelmed. I reflect on how emotionally weak I am. In the end, I give in and my body slumps into his, my head on his chest. I let myself enjoy the feeling for just a moment, knowing it cannot happen again and how upset I'll be when it ends.

"This cannot continue," I whisper.

"Yes it can."

I laugh with no humour at his stupidity.