DEFILING HONOR - aemond targaryen (DISCONTINUED)

i. a prince

Waters - that was a name given to bastards in lands of Riverlands. It was a great doom brought upon a bastard's life - some people might say it was justified, and some were genuinely indifferent. But there was no way you could change your name, your blood, or the sins of your ancestors. Kiyara had been stalked her whole life by this name. Her existence had not borne any weight since her whore of a mother decided to fuck some lord of stations far higher than she could ever reach. Kiyara's life was equal to a pig sent for slaughter, maybe even less because the pig could be at least eaten. The bastard had some luck though. Her mother died when she was just reaching her tenth nameday. Life in the orphanage had been known to be even worse than life as a beggar or a thief on the streets. And her mother knew it, so she left her on a doorstep of a whorehouse at Fleas' Bottom. At least in some way she could earn a living and have a roof above her head, thought her mother surely.

Jeyne was the name of her godmother. She at first wanted to teach the young lass alluring ways, how to seduce and please. How to grit her teeth and just bear with it for a little while. She quickly realized that it was not going to happen. Kiyara was timid and scared of almost everything that moved. She was especially afraid of men. Growing up in a pleasure house taught her to cover her head with a pillow at night and to put ointment on her sisters' bruises in the morning. The other girls were apathetic towards her since she didn't have to work. Some were forced to spread their legs open since their first blood appeared on the bed sheets. They were jealous of that young bastard hiding behind the owner's skirt.

However, the time of repaying to her "mother" came sooner than she had hoped. On the day of her sixth and ten name day, she was bathed, dressed up and fed well by her sisters. Due to her otherworldly innocent nature, she didn't think anything ill was going to happen to her. At her home. That night she was bedded for the first time. Kiyara's first was some smelly old Lord.
'He is a Lord of faraway lands. Treat him well. And stop crying,' said one of the sisters. Without empathy for the young girl sitting on a bed before her.

Today was Kiyara's seventh and ten name day. There was no celebration. If she would have been born into a royal family, she could have eaten cake by now, she would have been showered with expensive silk and congratulations and presents. If she were a princess, someone at least one person would have been glad for her birth seventeen years ago. But instead, she was a bastard, a whore lying down on the table like a main course waiting to be devoured by men without honour but a lot of money. Kiyara was shivering. Not from cold, but from the hungry stares. Choose somebody else, please. Not me. Just not me, please.

'I want her,' she heard a voice say. The voice resonated through the room like a drum. Kiyara imagined the face of the man, who had spoken. Round cheeks from expensive wine every day, nose visibly broken, eyes darkened with lust. The hair could be any colour except for unruly silver, the colour known only to Targaryens.

'My prince, she is yet to be taught how to properly please and give you everything you be seeking. May I advise you to pick instead-'
'You may not. I have chosen. Bring her to my private room,' With that, the conversation between her godmother and the man ceased, and only his heavy yet light footsteps were heard. He bought a private room and Jeyne called him a prince. Was it possible that the Targaryen himself decided to visit the whorehouse Kiyara had lived in for the past seventeen years? It surely was prince Aegon, the future king of the seven kingdoms, how he is called by some. Everyone, at least in the King's Landing, knew about the prince's queer customs. What she did not expect was for her godmother to walk towards her. Her as in the girl she found on her doorstep. The girl she groomed to be a perfect whore - unsuccessfully. The girl was not fit for this kind of life.

'Is anything wrong?' asked Kiyara but she did not have to. Just from the look alone on the older woman's face, she recognised trouble.

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