The Prince and His Flower

O N E - H U N D R E D - F O U R

Snow covered nearly every surface when Aemma opened her eyes, from the bank of God's Eye to the tallest towers of Harrenhal. By the time she entered the courtyard, she was waist-deep. Nothing else was around her, just the ruined castle and everything as it had been left.

She blinked and suddenly she was wearing a light blue dress, the silk fabric draping delicately over her swollen belly. A babe stirred within her, and her hands instinctively cradled it. She made her way into Harrenhal where half the ceiling had been destroyed, stone scattered everywhere. She blinked again and the castle had righted itself, finally returned to its former glory. In the middle of the room there was a cradle, and in the cradle was a babe with silver hair.

Aemma approached, watching as the babe stretched her arms and opened her brown eyes, seeing deep into her soul. This was her daughter. 

She reached into the cradle and took her daughter into her arms, smiling when she did. Then she blinked again and her daughter was gone, and the ruined castle returned. Snow had taken her place.

Frowning, she grabbed a handful of snow that had once been her daughter, only for it to crumble and stain her hands. It was ash. Then she blinked again, and she was ash too.

A particularly large swell knocked the ship into the deck and jolted her awake. Aemond felt her stir in his arms and stroked her hair gently before pulling off the covers. She turned to face him, gently tracing his jaw with her fingers. He watched her keenly, a small smile on his face. He ran his hand along her shoulder before draping it around her waist.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured. "Perfect, I'd reckon."

"Flatterer." She scoffed, moving to brush his hair out of his face. She kissed him deeply, letting her hands wander around his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He grabbed her leg and wrapped it around him, pulling her closer. His hands explored her rear as he pressed his hardness into her, small moans falling from his lips.

She wondered if today was the day they would make the daughter she had seen in her dreams.

His hand reached under her nightgown, and his fingers quickly entered her. He worked them fiercely, watching as she squirmed against him. She could feel his cock straining against the material of his pants, and she quickly freed him, pumping his length slowly. 

She thought of the way Aegon had fucked her on the table, and she quickly pushed herself off of Aemond, trying to shake the thought.

"Are you alright?" He asked breathlessly, sitting up.

"I'm fine," she turned her back to him and rummaged through the small chest in the room. The boat rocked again, the creaking of the wood filling the silence. "I think we should try something... different." She pulled out two nightgowns and turned back to face him, a wicked smile on her face.

"I'm not wearing that." He said firmly, before letting out a small laugh. 

"You won't be." She approached him again, pushing him to lay down. Then she took one of his wrists and held it to the bedpost. Her father and grandsire had shown her how to tie knots in her youth, and she felt a bit odd using that knowledge in such a setting, but it also excited her. She used one of the more complicated knots she had learned, and bound his wrist to the wood. 

"This is rather different." He mumbled, but she could see his cock twitch in anticipation. She bound his other wrist before disrobing him. He somehow still managed to look regal while tied down and naked, his strong core flexing as he adjusted himself on the bed. The way his arms were raised made his shoulders look exceptionally large, each muscle defining themselves somehow, and his sapphire eye only made it even more enticing.