The Realms Rose | Aemond Targaryen / Daemon Targaryen

XVI

Girl With One Eye - Florence + The Machine

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A shiver ran down her spine at the feel of his cold touch upon her hips, his fingers curling around the fabric of her dress and beginning to slowly trail upwards.

"If you were my wife I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you."

Every word out of his mouth made her skin crawl, her stomach twisting with a growing feeling of nausea.

"Unhand me." She hissed, her voice coming out louder and more forceful this time. She desperately wanted to shove him away but his hands trapped her in place. "If Aemond sees you..."

Her struggles only seemed to amuse him, her pleas for him to release her only making him tighten his hold upon her. "Aemond isn't here." He muttered into her shoulder, his voice filled with a mocking tone as a dark chuckle bubbled up from his throat.

His hands made their way up her dress, trailing up her inner thigh. Tears began to brim in the princesses eyes. She looked around frantically for somebody, anybody. The only other person occupying the hall being Aegons guard, who turned a blind eye to his debauchery and allowed him to defile her without the bat of an eyelid.

His hands continuing to explore her flesh while her struggling did nothing but further excite him. "You see that guard over there?" He spoke quietly into her ear. "He won't help you. He's all too used to looking the other way while I do what I please."

Her protests were only further drowned by his own desperate moans and groans as he littered her neck and collarbones with sloppy revolting kisses, bucking his hips aggressively into hers.

She squeezed her eyes closed, it was then she heard the loud call of footsteps echoing mere metres away from her. Aurora suddenly felt the absence of Aegons drunk body from hers and she let out a breath of relief.

Daemon let out a loud roar as he grabbed Aegon, his fingers wrapping around his throat as anger flooded through his body.

The sounds of a struggle and the sounds of Aegon's pained gasps filled the hall, his head hitting the stone behind him as his body was lifted off the ground with ease.

He had half a mind to kill him. He stared down at his nephew on the floor, his gaze cold and unfeeling. He felt the overwhelming desire to end Aegon right then and there, to crush his skull under his boot. He was a pathetic disgrace, unworthy of the Targaryen name.

However, he held himself back. Killing Aegon would not be worth the consequences. Not yet, anyway. It took all the strength he had however not to drive his fist into his face.

"If see you so much as glance in her direction again, I won't hesitate to slit your throat and feed your cold, lifeless corpse to Caraxes." He seethed at him, removing his hands from his throat and letting him drop to the floor in a spluttering, coughing mess.

"How dare you lay hands on me." Aegon choked out, looking over to his guard to intervene. The guard looked away from him, not wanting to challenge the Rogue Prince.

There was a dark, animalistic glint to Daemons eyes as he watched Aegon choke and struggle on the floor. Anger and a deep seeded hatred filled him in that moment, all of his pent up frustrations and long held grudges against the greens slowly bubbling up to the surface.