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3rd moon 138 AC
Aemond stared at the cyvasse board on the table in front of him. How many matches had he lost against himself now? Probably as many as he had won. Who would have thought being a prisoner could be this boring? Would you rather be a tortured fuck-plaything for your depraved old uncle again instead? A tiny voice in his head asked him. Yes. Another answered. Damn. They had fucked with him good. Alys and Daemon and Gr ... no, he would never honor his former 'handler' with a name.
"If I'm not back in three month I told her to let you go. She will probably demand more gold from whoever wants to purchase you, but that shouldn't be a problem. Seems like my part of the family is the only one that is broke," Daemon had said to him before he went off to King's Landing.
His uncle was so damn bitter about that 'lost' crown treasury it was funny. But then it probably had cost Rhaenyra the throne and ultimately her life too, Aemond thought. A Lannister always pays his debts. But only his own. Aemond had heard that Lord Tyland had been fully blinded and gelded under his half-sisters orders, but still refused to talk or turn cloak. Maybe they could exchange torture stories if they ever met again. No. Tyland could probably do without that on top of it all.
He set the cyvasse board aside and contemplated if he should read another chapter of 'Florian and Jonquil'. He couldn't quite believe that in his desperation he had started to read romance, but the isolation did weigh heavy on his soul at this point and he was not sure he could do it for another month.
It had been so weird at first to be treated like a person again after his uncle had left for the capital. They provided him first with some smallcloth and soon after even with a full set of clothes fit for a nobleman. So he no longer had to freeze his naked arse off in this prison and even got enough reading material to kill time with.
A few weeks after Daemon had left, a maid visited his cell. She had an infant in her arms and Aemond had held his breath.
"Prince Aemond, my lady thought that you would like to meet your son," the maid curtsied and handed the babe over to him.
And now he was Prince Aemond again? No longer taoba, līve, ovorta rene, zaldrītsos? "But ... isn't it to early?" He stared at the newborn in disbelief. He was small but lay content and warm in his hands.
"Yes mylord, he came three weeks early. We were not sure he would make it at first, but he is a strong little fellow and has pulled through," the maid explained.
Strong.
He had dark brown curls and his mother's nose.
I came here as an envoy. I'll not fight you.
Fight will be little challenge.
"What's his name?" Aemond asked, trying to turn his mind away from the abyss of madness.
"My lady says the father should chose the name."
Really Alys? You sure about that? Aemond thought but said: "Aegon," without any hesitation.
"My lady thought you would say that," the maid had smiled.
A fucking genius your Alys. Daemon's sarcastic voice echoed in his head.
That visit must have been over a month ago, Aemond guessed. It was hard to gauge the passage of time for him, but he knew that it was the third moon of the new year from one of the errand boys that brought him food and emptied his chamber pot now.
Turned out that he would probably never come to know if Florian could save Jonquil from the evil beast hiding at the pools, because the next day two royal guards were let into his cell. "Prince Aemond, the Prince Regent has ordered us to escort you to his quaters."
Well, I guess that is no longer me, Aemond thought. It was almost creepy when he was led out the door as he had been locked into this single cell for almost six month now. Since there were only two very small windows at the very top of the walls the full amount of daylight hurt his eye as they went through Harrenhal's half broken corridors to his destination.
***
"There you are," his uncle greeted him putting down the parchment he had studied.
Aemond had to do a double take at the man. How long had it been since he had seen Daemon fully clothed and not, well, mostly or all naked, variably dishelved, and probably on one of Alys' special herbs mixtures too. It's true 'clothes make the man', Aemond thought. Daemon looked like a proper distinguished Prince of House Targaryen again, he was also prominently wearing the Hand's pin on his lapel now. So his uncle finally had gotten the position he had craved his whole life, Aemond mused. He probably had not thought that he would hold it for a little child-king though.
"Please have a seat," his uncle pointed at the chair in front of him and looked him up and down. "Did they not properly feed you?" he sounded annoyed.
You bastard almost fed me nothing the four month before, Aemond thought. "The food was adequate," he noted as he sat down.
"Adequate? Stingy bitch," Daemon nagged.
"Her name is Alys," Aemond didn't know why he still felt the need to defend her after all she had done to him, but he somehow did, "and she fed me better than you did." His uncle even looked a tiny bit embarrassed at that. "She has given birth to my son," Aemond added.
"Already?" Daemon frowned sceptically. "You sure he's yours?"
"Yes," he was.
"Well then, congratulations on the bastard, I guess," his uncle couldn't have sounded less interested.
"He looks just like Lucerys," Aemond said, "I mean, I was not yet four when Luke was born, but Aegon said that Rhaenyra let us all see him in the nursery after Arrax had hatched and I bet he looked just like my child does now.
"Well, she is his aunt, that you insisted on fucking, kinslayer." Daemon pointed out.
Kinslayer. At this point who of them wasn't one? "I named the boy for my brother." If he had meant to rile his uncle up with this it didn't work, as he just scoffed at him. "Aegon? Why would you do that to the poor babe?"
Aemond just raised an eybrow at him.
"Yes. But I named my son for my brother not yours."
No, I'm pretty sure you named your first son 'for' my brother too, Aemond thought. Wasn't a fuck-you-all move or anything. "So you're Regent and Hand of the King now? Seems everything worked out quite well for you, uncle," he commented instead.
"Not that well. What did Corlys say after the battle of the Gullet: 'If that's winning, I hope to never win again'. Always was a poet at heart the old man. I've put him in charge in my stead for as long as I'm gone, but he is eight and seventy and could keel over any minute. The court is still swarming with Greens too, so we better hurry to get back. At least a peace treaty has been agreed upon now. Lord Stark actually did put the Sea Snake in the Black Cells if you can believe it. Not even your brother was crazy enough to do this," Daemon shook his head. "I swear if I never have to deal with a Stark again it will still be to soon," he complained.
"Couldn't have been that bad," Aemond opined, "he and his men took the city for your side with ease after my brother's death, you said."
"He had the gall to threaten Baela of all people! He also fucking executed or exiled everyone that looked at him funny before I could reach the Red Keep," his uncle whined.
"You did the exact same thing when you took King's Landing starting with my grandfather," Aemond pointed out.
"That was different."
"How?"
"It just was."
Right. More executing, less exile, Aemond thought. "How is my mother?" he was terrified to ask, but he had to know.
"I've sent her back to Oldtown," Daemon said, thankfully without fuss. "At first the maesters thought she wouldn't make it through the winter fever she had catched, but your little brother's prayers at her bedside might have helped her to escape the Stranger's grasp for now, or something."
What? He felt his heart skip a beat and tears shooting into his eyes. "Daeron is alive?"
"Hm," his uncle sounded less than enthused.
"But how? You said he was killed at Tumbleton ..." Had that just been a lie to torture him with?
"Well, everybody thought he was, but then he showed up in some gods forsaken settlement west of the King's Wood, just a bit sorched and blind on one eye. The other one I think," Daemon waved at Amond's saphire eye now glistening with tears.
His beautiful kind valonquar. Half blinded just like him. Really? The Gods were not only cruel but also funny it would seem.
"Fucking Greens, tougher than roaches," his uncle grumbled.
This made Aemond think of Helaena and her bug collection. There would never be a miraculous revival of his sweet sister. He had seen her death in his dreams. I should have fallen with her. He sure would not mention any of this to his uncle though. Daemon would just give him a lecture on how all dragon dreams are stupid and say that if he took as much drugs as Alys he would also start to see things in the fire.
"Is he ...?"
"He is heading for the Wall by now. It was agreed that he would take the Black."
So with me and Daeron out of the way and the throne secured for your little son we're just going to pretend the last half year never happend, uncle? Aemond wondered puzzled. How King Viserys of you.
"I brought you something," Daemon donned that alluring smile of his.
Oh great, he shuddered. The last two times his uncle had said this to him he had screamend in pain and anguish soon after.
"But first get on your knees."
So probably not then. He sighed, but did as told. Just admit that you can't wait to get that cock back into your mouth. Shut up, he told himself as he searched under his uncel's coat and started to open his breeches, but Daemon stopped his hands and went into the side room instead. He came back with a sword in hand. Aemond blinked. He had almost forgotten that Dark Sister was sticking in Vhagar's skull now, at the bottom of the God's Eye. It was very strange to see Daemon wield Blackfyre. It looked all wrong.
Crap. Is he actually going to kill me? Was part of the peace agreement his execution? But I don't want to die now. A surprising thought. His uncle didn't cut his head off with the Valyrian steel sword though, he just put it on his left shoulder. What the ...
"In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave."
... fuck?
"In the name of the Father I charge you to be just."
Gods.
"In the name of the Mother I charge you defend the innocent."
Mother.
"Rise Ser Aemond."
He had always thought it would be Ser Criston that would knight him. That was before the war and before he was sure he would never see the day anyway and now this disgusting arsehole ... "Whatever was that for?" he asked baffled as he got back to his feet.
"Exceptional cocksucking service," Daemon grinned lecherously.
Aemond groaned. "Are you serious?"
"No, it's not that exceptional, but you can't be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard without being a knight," he shrugged.
Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?
"Now come," his uncle took his hand and tugged him into the side room like they were kids on a leisurely stroll. Why was that man so fucking creepy and why did he like it so much?
There was a shiny new Kingsguard armor in the room. It had golden inlays of dragons on the shoulders and the seven pointed star on the breast plate was golden too.
"What do you say?" his uncle asked.
"It's beautiful," Aemond answered truthfully.
"Good thing I got my son's treasury back, huh?" Daemon gloated.
Oh, it's your son's treasury now? Sure.
"Put it on," his uncle sounded excited, "I'll get us something to eat," he added and left.
How the hells was he supposed to put that armor on all by himself? Aemond wondered, but tried as good as it was possible.
When Daemon came back with a tablet full with delicious food, the likes of which Aemond had not seen in six month, he almost dropped it when he looked at him. "Oh fuck," he exclaimed and hastily put it on the table. He could see his uncle's mouth water and not because of the food. "I knew you would look absolutely delectable in this," he stepped behind him and helped to tighten the buckles in the back of the breast plate. Aemond felt a wave of arousal course through his body and took a deep breath. Afterwards Daemon fastened the white cloak around his shoulders. The irony of that act wasn't lost on him either.
"I can't wait to rip it off you again and soil that white cloak with my seed." Daemon whispered and nuzzled at his neck.
Way to ruin a moment uncel. "That's not really the point of ..." Aemond protested.
"There is nothing about fucking your uncle in that oath ... and you'll have to swear it to Aegon first anyways," Daemon interrupted him.
They sat down and ate in silence for a while. The armor weighed heavier than he had thought and Aemond was still confused about his uncles intentions. Lord Commander? Really? He was only twenty. "So why do I get the white cloak and Daeron the black?" he asked. Wouldn't it make much more sense the other way around? Like Daemon had pointed out he was the infamous kinslayer and Daeron an acclaimed war general.
"Because, while your cocksucking might not be exceptional it's still pretty good, and I'm not fucking your little brother he is like twelve."
Aemond sighed. "He is almost seven and ten and you don't have a problem with twelve."
Daemon glared at him. "Those are vile accusations. I think the youngest I ever had was ..."
"Yes?"
His uncle seemed to think about it and then made a face. "Almost three and ten?"
"Truly outrageous slander," Aemond rolled his eye.
"Sure, they will never let me live down the dumb shit I did and bragged about when I was your age, will they?" Daemon complained.
"The problem is you never really stopped with the dumb shit," Amond gave back, and it's not like it doesn't get you all hot and bothered when I play bashful-little-Aemond, he thought and shook his head. "By all other means, you and my late brother should have been best friends, really."
That did rile up his uncle a little at last.
"Well, if you think so lowly of me nephew, then why don't you lower youself again too and put your mouth to some better use. Do your duty, ser," he ordered harshly.
Fine, Aemond thought and got back onto his knees, which proved to be rather difficult with the armor. You totally did that on purpose. Shut up. This time Daemon didn't stop him when he took his cock out of his breeches, and Aemond gave the head a generous lapping. Not exceptional, the fuck? He didn't take four month of lessons for nothing, he thought irritated and took his uncles whole length in with ease. His reward was a groan from Daemon who pulled him closer and started to thrust slowly but steady into his mouth. When he finally reached his climax Aemond swallowed it all down to the last drop. He had to earn that knighthood somehow, he told himself. "Seems exceptional enough to me," he grinned looking up and Daemon who leant down to kiss him, getting a taste of himself mixed with lemon cake probably.
There was a short knock on the door a guard came in and turned red in the face at the rather obvious scene in front of him. "My Regent, I- I'm sorry, but there just was news of another small uprising in the capital via raven and I thought ..." he stammered.
"Ugh. We really better hurry back now," his uncle said putting his cock away and sent the guard to prepare his host for immediate depature.
Daemon did help Aemond out of the armor and ... actually put chains on him instead again. To make his status as his prisoner clear, until he had taken his oath in front of the new king, he said. Of course, the chains are for show and not because they make you hard. Or because they make me hard, he thought. Because that was literally what happend when his uncle put them on him. He got hard as dragonglass. Fuck.
He had heard Rhaenyra had put his mother in chains when she took the throne. His mother! What the hells was that for? Probably for the same reason, the tiny voice piped up again, but Aemond didn't want to think about that any deeper. Although it would still be a better reason than his sister being afraid his mother would come at her with a weapon or something ... well, alright, but that was only once and to defend him against her stupid nonsense.
***
He was bundled off onto an open carriage for the journey, together with a few other prisoners ready to recieve the the kings justice, or really just his uncles if they were honest. That non of them had any of their limbs cut off for now, showed great restrain on Daemon's part, Aemond thought facetiously. It would take a good week to reach the capital at their pace. Surprisingly the other men mostly left him be, except for one young redheaded lad who stared daggers at him all day. What could Aemond have done to earn his wrath? Oh, nothing, the tiny voice said, just burned his village to the ground and killed his whole family mayhaps? Fuck.
Well, at last his uncle would; him; again; when they put up camp for the night, and Aemond was hungry for it like a properly trained whore too. Gods. He was kneeling on the bedroll as Daemon was forcefully humping him from behind and he pushed back at every thrust driving his uncle's cock deeper into his body. It felt so wrong and so good. It felt even better now than ever, because for once none of them was under the influence of any mind dulling substances.
Alys had toyed with him already when he fell for her, half mad with guilt and hatred, and drugged him not only with her prophecies and portents but also with her herbs and poisons playing tricks on the imagination. Daemon had mostly used the drugs to make him even more helpless and malleable but as much as he had japed and bitched about her cliched witch-kitchen, it was now clear that his uncle too had pinched from Alys supplies to get through the last month of the war. His eyes looked different now and his speech was less slurred. It explained a few things, not excused, mind you, but explained, Aemond thought.
He rubbed his backside against Daemon's breast, so he could feel his uncles scars on his back were their bodys pressed close together. Aemond moaned as Daemond pulled at his hair and searched backwards with his hands to touch his mates thighs and arsecheeks. Aemond loved to touch his uncle and the dumbass hadn't even let him use his hands for weeks.
"Missed your dear uncle, didn't you?" Daemon asked cheekily as he grabbed Aemonds cock and started to play with its pre-cum dripping slit.
No, the man was still insufferabel, but his cock felt nice filling his arse. Very, very, nice. Alright, maybe he had missed the old nutter, but there was something he hadn't missed at all and he was going to make that abundantly clear to his dear uncle. But first he needed to come.
"Faster, uncle," he urged and Daemon sped up their pace even more, bringing them close to climax. "Ñuha zaldrītsos", he whispered into his ear and Aemond groaned as he felt his uncle's seed filling his arse. With a few short tugs at his cock he brought himself over the edge too and they both colapsed onto the bedroll.
After a short while Aemond took the opportunity to grab his chains that lay discarded together with their clothes beside them and in a swift move turned around and tightened them over Daemon's throat pinning him to the ground. "Lo ao jeme ivestragī mirre issaros renigon nyke mijegon ñuha issa arlī, iksan jāre naejot hobrenka nektogon ao ezīmagon angorani," he said resolutely.
"Nyke shifang," his uncle didn't look too surprised. He was still breathing heavily but nodded slowly and pulled him closer putting their foreheads together. He kissed him and teased Aemond's pierced nipple with his thumb. "Iksā ñuho."
That's right. Yours alone, Aemond thought wroth. You put a ring and a cloak on me, now act like it. "Good. Then fuck me again," he demanded with his once more half hard cock poking at his uncle's belly.
"Again?" Daemon looked perplexed and a little embarrassed. "Nephew, I'm six and fifty."
You've got to learn to deal with the monsters you create old man, Aemond thought. "If your cock is to weak use your fingers, uncle," he suggested and grabbed Daemon's right hand to wet them with his mouth. "I like your fingers," he added and brought them against his hole."
Daemon smiled and turned their positions around again just as fast as he himself had before, throwing Aemond on his back and pinning him down. He fastened the chains around his wrists again and tied him with them to a tent post. Pervert, Aemond thought but indulged his uncle and relaxed into his greedy hands. Daemon fingered his already used arse and searched for the sweet spot inside of him that would make him come again in almost no time. All in all a pretty satisfying night.
***
Of couse the next day the whispers, sniggers and insults started to make the rounds. Yes, he tended to get loud during coupling, what of it? Aemond thought grumbling. The taunts about the one-eyed Prince Regent's whore stopped all of a sudden though, when one of the more nasty gossips went miraculously missing overnight. Heh. Aemond wondered if he had kept his tongue?
Her children are bastards! And she is a whore.
That had been rather stupid of Vaemond, but he guessed the man had had no fucks to give anymore at that point. A fortnight later he was kneeling on the floor of the Red Keep in the very spot of the throne room where that overreaching Velaryon had lost his head. He wore his shiny new kingsguard armor and was ready to speak his vows.
He had gotten a royal pardon for his crimes and been offically offered the top spot on Aegon's III kingsguard. Aemond had an uneasy feeling, looking at the little children up on the dais. Jaehaera was not seven yet and barely verbal, but he had been overjoyed to see her again. Rhaenyra's poor boy looked totally lost in front of that gigantic throne of melted swords, there were no dragons anymore, and they all were abolutely fucked.
"Nobody wants us for their king, nephew," his uncle had said to him before, "after your brother's death it was always going to be my son or your daughter."
"You mean my niece," Aemond had corrected him and Daemon had rolled his eyes. But he never thought of Jaehaera as his daughter, it was not proper. He and Helaena had only lain once together and it was not ... she had just tried to comfort him after Aegon had pulled that dumb brothel nameday 'present'. If the twins hadn't looked like his very image nobody could have told, not even he himself.
Jaehaera would be queen consort to King Aegon just like her mother had been to the one before him, and Aemond would now swear a stronger commitment to his little nephew than he ever had to his older brother, which seemed rather unfair, he mused, before he spoke:
"I swear to ward the king with all my strength and give my blood for his.
I shall take no wife, hold no lands, and father no children.
I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands,
ride at his side and defend his name and honor.
I swear this by the old gods and the new."
***