Anonymous asked:
hi darling, can I request Aemondacting soft around his secret lover?
Of course Anon! Anytime anywhere haha, I love soft Aemond. I also used the poem "she walks in beauty" by Lord Byron.
Aemond x servant!reader | FLUFF
You were a servant girl in the Red Keep, belonging to no noble house, content to see and not be seen by those nobles you served.
None took notice of you, save for Aegon who had a lecherous fondness of serving girls.
One night as you were on the rounds emptying chamber pots, you were cornered by him in his chambers.
You, not being a meek girl, yelled for help before raking your nails across Aegon's face.
He didn't have time to grab you as someone entered the room, grabbed him by the nape of his neck, and pushed him to the ground.
Aemond had heard your cry for help and come rushing through the open door. "Go!" he told you, rounding on his brother.
You heard them shouting as you fled, their voices echoing far down the hallways.
The next day, as you swept the empty throne room, Aemond found you, placing a hand lightly on your shoulder. You still jumped about a foot in the air, wheeling on him with broom raised to land a blow. Aemond backed away from you, hands raised, laughing softly. "At ease, soldier. I simply wanted to check and see if you were alright...after the events of yestereve."
"Yes, thank you my prince." Mortified, you quickly bowed low.
Aemond scuffed his shoe upon the stone floor, his one purple eye flashing in the torchlight. "There's no need for that." He gestured for you to straighten. "And please, 'Aemond' is enough when you address me in privacy."
He held out a large book to you, that you recognized instantly. It was the Tome of Dragonriding, a fascinating read you had acquired in the massive library, a few nights before you had been called from your reading to complete serving dinner and had left it behind, not able to find it upon your return.
You took the book from Aemond hesitantly, barely daring to look him in the eye. "I...lost this, thank you for returning it."
"It is a rare thing for a...woman of your birth to be able to read." You knew he meant no offense, but your skin prickled nonetheless.
"My father taught me, my pri-Aemond." You admitted.
"He sounds like quite the man."
"He was." You glanced up from studying your shoes and saw Aemond's face soften slightly. "Though...I still find comprehending the written word challenging. My vocabular isn't what I'd like it to be."
Aemond looked at you a moment, his mouth curling slightly into a smile. "You will meet me in the library tomorrow eve so we can begin your lessons." He moved to pass you and tapped lightly on the Tome of Dragonriding in your arms, looking down into your face. "Bring this."
You had met with Aemond that evening, finding him already seated at a large oaken table surrounded by scrolls and manuscripts already. He was leaning over a particularly challenging-looking paper, his long hair falling over his shoulders and tickling the paper before him.
"Ah, Y/N. I am grateful for your presence. " He looked up to see you and motioned for you to take a seat next to him. "You offer a pleasing distraction to these awful manifestos."
Not knowing what that last word quite meant you offered the prince a smile and scooted in, placing your book on the table.
Aemond had you read aloud, correcting, and instructing you to write down words that were foreign to your tongue, giving you the definitions to memorize.
He was a pleasant teacher, you quickly found, and you often caught yourself looking more at his angular face and mysterious eyepatch than at the task in front of you. He caught you more than once, violet eye flicking up to meet your own staring back. A knowing smile began spreading across his face and he leaned in fractionally closer to you.
"I expect you to study, we will recommence next week. Same time, here in the library." At the end of an hour, Aemond gathered together his reading materials and stood to leave.
You did indeed meet with Aemond in the same place the following week, and the week after that until several months had passed with the two of you meeting and becoming closer. You enjoyed his company immensely and often found yourself craving to be near him while going about your everyday chores.
He found you one morning, as you swept the ashes from the fireplace of a secluded sitting room. "Y/N." The sudden sound of his voice woke you from deep thought and you raised your head only to knock the back of it against the stone mantle of the hearth.
Aemond was at your side in an instant, as you clutched your throbbing head, and helped guide you to the sofa. "Forgive me, I am so sorry Y/N. Are you quite alright?" You could tell by the strain in his voice, Aemond was making a gallant effort not to laugh.
"You keep doing that, sneaking up behind me and scaring the life out of me!" He did laugh this time, and you couldn't help but join him, though you also groaned in pain, still rubbing the back of your head. Cool fingers pushed yours away as Aemond caressed the sore spot, digging into your hair to feel for the damage. "Does it hurt when I press here?" You winced. "A little." "And here?" "...not as much."
He released your head and sat back. "I think you'll survive." "A miracle to be sure!" Your retort made him smile and he removed a small book from his coat pocket. "I brought something for you, hopefully all you've learned with me hasn't been shaken from your brain just now."
You took the small gift from him, A collection of poems from Old Valyria. "Aemond, I don't speak Valyrian." You opened the book, leafing through the pages. "Oh." It was written in the Common Tongue, though the print was small. You began reading aloud more by instinct than anything.
"She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes."
You looked up from the page, meeting Aemond's intense eye. He had studied you this way before, but you had always been quick to look away. This time, however, you did not break your gaze, not even when he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled you closer.
His breath was hot upon your lips. "May I?" You barely had time to nod before his mouth was upon yours. A soft whimper escaped you, Aemond's other hand moved to your lower back and guided you against him as he leaned into you.
It was a tender moment, one etched into your heart and memory, your fingers running through his silken hair, all pain in your head forgotten. One of many stolen, secret moments to come.
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