DEFILING HONOR - aemond targaryen (DISCONTINUED)

v. a king

Kiyara woke up to crashes echoing through the room. At first, she was confused as to where she was, but then the memories of the night endeavours came rushing to her. She started to blush at the thought of all the positions he put her in, the things the king did to her. Yes, the king. Aemond, her only true king, made her promise to call him king. To treat him as such. Her promise was sealed by him entering her body over and over again. The ex-whore's body was covered by a light blanket, her nightgown remained on the floor by the door. Kiyara whipped her head towards the sound of glass shattering. There he was.

The flooring was covered by glass shards, ripped pages of valuable books and other stuff a simple whore could not understand the significance of. Aemond was not the kind of a person to have a littered room. The prince was anything but messy. He craved structure. And order. And virtue. Honour.

His chambers were like this because of his state of mind. All those moons ago, when his mother insisted for a maester to have a look at him, it was rage that he was truly feeling. Rage toward the Gods, toward the order of things. But mostly his brother. Oh, how much he hated his brother for him being the firstborn. How much he hated his imbecile incompetent brother for being the one to wear the crown of Aegon the Conqueror on his head one day. Tomorrow. He, Aemond, studied philosophy and battle strategies while his brother was drowning in his cups. He took care of his mother's and sister's needs while he, Aegon, was fathering bastards.

There were only twelve hours to the big moment of his older's coronation. The younger brother felt such a strong aversion towards the ways of living of his brother. Then a thought occurred to him. He had his whore too. If his brother was an honourless man but still got all he wanted and more, Aemond could too.

It was her sleepy eyes that caused her hesitant and delayed reaction, she rushed to him when she took in the state the room was in, almost clumsily falling on her face. There in front of a mirror - or rather what used to be one - stood her lover, holding his bloody hand.

'M-my king! Are you alright?'

'Shush, woman, do not fuss.' Kiyara came to an abrupt stop, and all of a sudden she realised who she was talking to. But those nights made her feel like she got to know him, she got quite accustomed to the way his body moved. She got used to his smell the same way she got used to the tangled hallways of Red Keep.

'My apologies, my lord, but your hand... It is bleeding,' The whore stood in close proximity to the prince, his back was half turned away and when she reached for his hand he jerked it away.

'I can quite feel and see that.'

'I am s-sorry. But I can help with that if you just let me...' the girl slowly tried to grasp his hand when he suddenly squeezed her neck. His blood ran down her neck down to her bosom and eventually even lower.

Sex itself did not satisfy the man with a bleeding hand. At least not fully. He craved destruction. She, the whore standing in front of him, was perfect for him. He wanted to show her all of it. All of the things the world had to offer. Aemond saw her clean, silky skin as a sign of her innocence despite her being far from it. The prince saw the way she trembled underneath his fingers, how she looked at him with those dark doe eyes. When he found her with the wounds on her back, he was prepared to kill that bastard who touched her. Because that was supposed to be him, he was the one who was going to scar her until she cannot recognize herself. She would bear the same scars as him.

Aemond pushed her towards the ground, he held her on the nape of the neck to push her cheek down on the wooden floor. The girl could not do much more than just yelp out. The prince stayed quiet for a bit. Whenever the whore did any kind of noise or showed a sign of trying to get up, the prince just pushed harder. The girl could feel the shards of glass and unknown metals digging into her delicate skin, drawing blood. It was not much longer until her blood started flowing out of her skin and mixing with the blood of the secondborn son on her body.