It Was Supposed To Be Anonymous

Family Ties

The sun was burning her skin as the pair stared at eachother, scarcely blinking, for a long moment. With a deep breath, Vaelara forced herself to look away from Aegon, following directly behind Baela into the castle; keeping her eyes trained on the floor ahead of her. Still, her skin prickled with gooseflesh and she could feel the prince's presence only a few paces behind her.

"Vaelara..." She fought the urge to sigh as he said her name, that now-familiar, sensual voice caressing her skin in an intimate, and inappropriate, way.

"Uncle..." she replied in clipped acknowledgement, refusing to turn around. When Baela rounded the next corner ahead of her, Vaelara turned in the opposite direction, unwilling to have her half-sister witness any kind of interaction between them.

"Who would have thought..." Aegon whispered over her shoulder, his voice smug, "The heir to the Iron Throne, fucking a stranger in the dark—" Vaelara spun about, slapping her hand over his mouth as she slammed him forcefully into the wall of the corridor.

"Shut up!" she hissed, burning with an uncomfortable mix of anger and embarrassment. "It was supposed to be anonymous; that was the whole point! Please, just... don't speak of it, ever again." she pleaded. When she released his mouth, he was smirking down at her, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Fuck, those eyes... Pools of darkened violet that she longed to swim in; as sinful as his voice. Suddenly, Vaelara realized how closely they were pressed together and recoiled. "Just... stay away from me." She demanded, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

Humiliation made her skin burn as she hurried to her quarters, the quarters that had stood empty for nearly six years. Immediately, she threw herself back on the sofa, letting out a huff of irritation.

Why? Why, of the hundreds of men it could have been, did the Gods have to put her and Aegon together? And why had it felt so perfect to be with him? It wasn't fair. She sighed again and pushed her hair away from her face.

She hadn't expected him to be so... so kind. The rumors swirling about the realm told of a spoiled, drunken, cruel prince who took what he pleased, when he pleased. And yet, he'd been so gentle with her in that dark room...

Fuck, she needed to stop thinking about him. And yet... Biting her lip, she hitched up her skirts, slipping her hand beneath her small clothes. Gods, she was wet just thinking about the day before. Vaelara's fingers found that same spot he'd touched and began to stroke circles over it until her entire body grew warm and her hips began to buck against her hand.

"Oh, fuck..." she whimpered, slipping a finger inside herself. "Gods..." When she closed her eyes, she wasn't thinking about the dark room, she was picturing his violet eyes and thinking about his voice. It was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn't stop. When she pushed a second finger into her dripping heat, she imagined it was him, burying his cock inside her.

She came with a shudder, his name falling from her lips in a whisper. Afterward, she felt sick with herself, glaring at her reflection in the mirror.

A few hours later, when she'd finally swallowed down her self-disgust, she made her way through the keep, eventually finding herself on the bailey above the yard. Aemond and Ser Criston were in the midst of a heated training session, the clash of their blades echoing around them.

Suddenly, a hand clapped over Vaelara's mouth, silencing her startled scream.

"Found you," Aegon whispered in her ear, pressing himself against her back. She elbowed him in the chest, receiving a groan as he released her. "No need to be so violent, my sweet." My sweet...

Fuck, his words stirred her arousal; her stomach flipping pleasantly.

"What do you want, Aegon?" she snapped, turning her attention back to Aemond and Ser Criston so her uncle wouldn't see how flushed she'd grown.