Anonymous asked:
hiiiii I really love your stories and side note it’s my birthday, first one on my own so I plan on just having a chill day with my dog indoors, halfway through rereading your master list already, could I make a request or suggestion for something kinda angsty, like someone’s jealous or something? Thank youuuu
I am writing a continuation of reader wife going to that brothel we see in episode 9 and fucking that bitch up having words with the landlady. ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Prepare for some Robin Hood type shit from reader
These two fics go serve a good backstory for this fic.
Aemond x wife!reader | protective/jealous/possessive reader | reader sneaks out to go the Silk Street brothel | violence | strong language | Aemond finds out and intervenes
Yes I had fun creating this banner muahaha
The night was young.
The wind chill on your face as you snuck outdoors, careful to not rouse your sleeping husband.
Aemond must not know what you intended; he would never allow it.
You had taken a moment to observe his sleeping form, his beautifully carved face relaxed in slumber, a stray strand of silver hair falling across his high cheekbone. You swept it away with a delicate touch and he smiled in his sleep.
The image of him fresh in your mind, the man your heart and body belonged to, in such an intimate and tender moment only stirred your anger to greater heights. You seethed; it was passed time you had words with a certain Madam of the Street of Silk.
You had your short bow with you, in case sharp words turned to something worse. You had wrapped your hands and wrists in fabric, as your father had once taught you, so in the event of a brawl you would be prepared to throw punches.
You knew just where to go, it was a well-known brothel, serving only higher-end clientele. Padding down the street with booted feet you made your silent way, not quite knowing what you were going to say or do upon arrival. So focused were you on your goal you took no notice of the shadowy figure following you down the steps of the Red Keep.
The women loitering outside the establishment, trying lure passing men inside, watched you approach with interest.
“‘Tis not often we get ladies in here.” One spoke, you valiantly tried to keep your eyes on her face.
“I’m here to speak to your Madam.” Your voice was terse even to your own ears.
The courtesan frowned, her red lips pouting. “Mistress Trolunda is inside, though she’s not entertaining guests personally tonight.”
“No weapons allowed.” The girl closest to the door held up a hand as you made to enter, her eyes were on the bow and quiver on your back.
“Bullshit.” They gasped at your rude language, but your patience had taken leave this evening. “I’m sure you don’t enforce that rule on your male customers.”
You pushed your way passed, not a difficult feat and the women didn’t put up much of a fight to stop you. Their glowering glares burned into your back as you walked through the doorway into a wide room lit with rosy fireglow.
The men inside did indeed carry weapons, those who were dressed anyway. It wasn’t terribly busy inside the main room; several intertwined couples took up spaces by the several lit torches. You didn’t look too hard at them, their states of undress and groping hands making your cheeks flush despite yourself.
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” An older woman approached you from behind a clerical looking counter. She had light auburn hair and light eyes that looked you up and down calculatingly.
“Mistress Trolunda I take it?” You tilted your head, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.
She gave your garb an appraising glance, a flicker of recognition crossing her froglike features. “I am she. If you’re hear for business and pleasure you’ve come to the right place.”
“Just business.” You stepped forward, pressing into her space, pleased to note you were taller than her squat form. “To make sure no other children are victim to your debauchery.”
“I beg your pardon?” Trolunda’s voice had taken on an icy undertone, her eyes narrowing at you. “Who are you to dictate what goes on in my establishment.”
“Someone who will make your life a living hell.” You closed the remaining distance with a menacing step. “Or end it altogether.”
She opened her mouth, her gaze searching behind you for help.
“Call for assistance and this knife will find your heart.” You threatened.
Trolunda looked down and saw the knife you had withdrawn, poised at her ribcage. Her expression was wary as she met your eyes again. “What do you want?” Despite her effort to keep her reactions hidden you could hear the tremor of fear in her words.
“Children are to be left alone, not to be touched. Any girls you have working for you under the age of seventeen you will either find new work for or different jobs.”
She snorted derisively, gasping a little as you prodded her with the sharp end of your dagger. “Alright, calm down.” She raised her hands in submission. “I will do as you ask.”
“Should patrons come wishing to see any workers under seventeen, you are to refuse them and report them to the King’s Guard.”
Her eyes widened. “The King’s Guard? You cannot be serious. I would lose significant income.”
“Did I stutter.”
“No, no you did not.” The Madam looked keenly at your face, before making a curtsying gesture, right before she hefted a heavy porcelain plate from the counter and smashed it against the side of your head.
White pain filled your vision as you stumbled to the side, falling to the ground, momentarily stunned. You felt a booted foot connect with your jaw, sending you reeling against the wooden floor.
Shouts and screams sent bolts of pain through your throbbing head, you squinted through bleary eyes, seeing the Madam approaching you with a curved dagger drawn and ready to slice at your vulnerable form.
You swept your leg out, knocking against her shins enough to cause her to stagger. The working women and half-naked men fled the scene as you lurched to your feet, bracing your weight against one of the oaken walls. You held your own dagger out in front of you like Aemond had taught.
Trolunda swiped at you once, clearly inexperienced with wielding weapons of any sort. You lashed out with your foot, catching her in the sternum and sending her falling back onto her tailbone. She shrieked a curse at you, her cry cutting through your aching temples like hot iron.
“Cease this at once!”
You were about to lunge at the woman, but Aemond’s commanding voice stilled the very breath in your chest.
There he stood, framed in the doorway, those who had fled could be seen cowering in corners behind him. The hood of his cloak was thrown back, his long hair shining silver in the torchlight, he had not donned his eyepatch, the sapphire gemstone glittered menacingly as his lilac eye surveyed the scene before him with displeasure. His sword was drawn, though it was currently pointed at the ground.
The Madam righted herself, brushing down her rumpled skirts as her eyes flicked from Aemond to you and back again. A knowing smile itched up her unpleasant face. “Ah. I see now.” Both you and Aemond glared at her as she smoothed back her mussed hair. “You are his.” Her predatory gaze fell upon you once more. “I do hope what he learned in my care all those years ago has served you well.”
With a cry of incandescent fury you fell upon the woman, pummeling each inch of her your fists could find. She collapsed beneath you, shielding her face and screaming inane curses as you continued beating her about the head.
Strong hands closed around your waist and hauled you off the woman, yet you still kicked out at her with your feet, making satisfying contact several more times as Aemond dragged you away.
“You’ve married a little beast, my prince.” Trolunda gasped, wiping the blood from her nose off her lips. Though she was injured she still looked satisfied.
“Better a 'little beast’ than a fucking child predator.” You snarled, still trying to free yourself. “Aemond, let me go.”
“You have made your point, Y/N.” He sounded strained as he kept firm hold of your writhing form.
“Throw her in the dungeons, call in Vhagar, do something!”
“She has done nothing illegal.” Aemond said softly, finally releasing you but placing a warning hand on your arm. “We need to leave, now.”
“Wait for me outside.” You turned to him finally, aware that the Madam watched you with a derisive smirk. “Please, Aemond. If you truly care for me, give me one minute alone with her.”
His eye roamed your features for a moment before he looked at the woman over your shoulder. Something in his face hardened and he sighed shortly. “Fine. One minute, and no killing. That’s an order.”
“Yes sir.”
He turned to leave, ushering the people still within the brothel to exit as well before closing the door behind him.
You turned slowly on the spot, facing the woman who once again had the dagger in her hand.
“He is powerless to do anything, as are you.” She sneered. “Just as he was when his brother brought him to me.”
In a flash you had drawn your bow off your back, notched an arrow, aimed and loosed.
With a cry of fear and grunt of surprise the woman was pinned by the sleeve of her heavy dress to the wall. She raised the dagger in her free hand as if to throw but your second arrow had already flown, pinning her other arm as well.
“I do not rescind what I said.” You lowered your weapon, not hiding your smirk at her helpless state. “If any other children fall victim to this establishment you will burn in dragon fire, this I promise you.”
After one last withering look, you turned on your heel and departed through the main door.
Aemond saw the Madam pinned by your arrows from the doorway as you left. His brow arched and he looked down at you with an expression you’d never seen before. “Are you finished?”
“Only because you interrupted.” You were still in a foul mood; striding passed him and back towards the Keep.
The streets were empty now, apparently the citizens previously present wanted nothing to do with the unfolding drama, especially after Aemond arrived.
Aemond grabbed hold of your elbow, yanking you around to face him non to gently. “What did I say to you yesterday when you were so intent upon coming here?”
“Not to?”
“Ah, so your memory still functions.” Aemond was becoming angry, his gaze taking in the blood trickling down from your hairline and the bruises forming upon your jaw. “Tell me why you blatantly disobeyed me.”
“Children are being preyed upon, Aemond.” You matched him with your own fiery anger, prodding his chest with your finger. “You are not the only on to be taken advantage of. I shudder to think what goes on in King’s Landing. Since I am your wife, I have a duty to the people.”
“Throwing yourself mindlessly into danger doesn’t qualify as one of those duties, Y/N!” Aemond was close to shouting now, something that you had not yet experienced from him before.
“Mindlessly?” You raised your voice as well, your nostrils flaring. “What I did was very calculated, thank you very much.”
Aemond passed a hand over his face, suddenly weary. You turned your back to him and continued back to your chambers, fuming. He walked in silent contemplation behind you as you stomped down the halls.
Once safe inside the room you threw aside your weapons and cloak, kicking off your boots and slumping upon the bed, staring unseeing up at the ceiling.
A few minutes later the mattress dipped beside you and Aemond’s face hovered into view. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his expression had softened upon seeing the tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
“I do not wish you to come to any harm, my fierce wife.” He spoke softly now, watching as you propped yourself on an elbow to face him.
“I want to avenge the harm already done to you, Aemond.” You traced his jaw with your fingers.
“Not if it puts you at risk.” He shook his head. “Nothing is worth that.” He tilted your own face to the side, examining your injuries with a severe frown. “And you seem intent on suffering for my sake.”
“It’s not suffering. I made progress in there, believe it or not.” You took his hand in yours, lowering it to the mattress. “I just need you to trust me, work with me, and together we can break the cycle.”
Aemond studied you for several silent moments, his lips pursed in thought, his lilac gaze suddenly seemed far away as he stared over your shoulder.
“I will think on it.” He at last spoke. “For now, I am going to help clean and bandage you. On the morrow we will speak with the council about taking further action on this matter.”
“Thank you, Aemond.” You gently pressed your lips to his, lingering there to breathe him in. “That’s all I ask.”
“And no more personal vendettas for my sake.” He combed his fingers carefully through your tangled hair. “We will make use of the proper channels as duty dictates.”
“No sending in Vhagar?”
“No sending in Vhagar.” He chuckled, a low delicious sound. “And I will know if you go to her yourself, Y/N.”
You glanced guiltily into his eye, Aemond seemed to have been reading your thoughts. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Mmhmm.” Your husband sighed, shaking his silver head before getting out of bed to prepare the wash basin. “What am I going to do with you?” He spoke as if to himself as he gathered healing ointments.
“Hopefully something to take my mind off this horrible headache.” You winced as you sat up.
“I’m sure I can come up with something.” Aemond graced you with a small smile, a flicker of reverence and gratitude crossing his handsome face as he held your gaze. “For now, let me tend to the injuries you sustained while fighting for my honor.”
You both laughed lightly, the crackling fire illuminating the room in a cozy glow as Aemond looked after you with gentle hands and soft kisses against your warm skin.
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