"She knew she was playing with fire, but gods, how badly she wanted to be burned."
~
Rheya~ the blacksmith with a will of steel and a kiss of silver.
He had never wanted anyone so badly.
~
Aemond Targaryen x OC
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The room was too warm. The bed beneath her too comfortable. The fabric on her skin too soft.
Rheyas eyes shot open, her body jerking upward as all the memories rushed back. She winced against the pain in her ribs.
"My lady!" Cried a woman, hurrying over to her. "You must lay still."
Rheya recognised her. She was one of Aemonds maids. A quick glance about the room told her she reconised it also. They were Aemonds chambers. And she was lying in his bed.
Ignoring the maid as she tried to push her back into the bed, she swung her legs over the edge, hand feeling her neck as she looked down at herself. She wore a thin shift, but thick bandages surrounded her breasts and the majority of her torso. Whoever had treated her had been dramatic about it.
"You are excused." She heard his voice by the door and her gaze snapped to him. He was dressed in black leathers, his hands tucked behind his back as the maid hurried out, shutting the door behind her.
Rheya looked him carefully up and down. Not a hair was out of place, and he seemed composed as ever as he stood there, watching her. She dropped her hand from her throat, wincing against the pain as she opened her mouth to speak.
"You should take some milk of the poppy." He beat her to it, nodding to the cup beside her bed. Rheya didn't turn away from him to look.
"You killed him." She managed, the words a rasp. Aemond narrowed his eye.
"You tried to." He countered, and she shook her head.
"He was my brother." She stood form the bed as she spoke, taking shaking steps toward him. His eye watched her keenly.
"He was a cunt and-" Aemond drawled but she cut him off with a sharp. "No." As she entered his space.
"He was my brother... And he was mine to kill." She spat out, and Aemond raised a brow at her, a smirk finding the corner of his mouth.
"You were doing a pretty shit job of it." He commented, looking down at her in that way of his. She clenched her fists.
"Did you follow us?" She asked.
"My mother asked me to check up on our most recent display of kindness. It seemed that he was not deserving of it after all." His eye flashed and he spoke, and Rheya found herself lost for words.
"Did you follow us?" She simply repeated.
"I knew well enough were your shop was." He rolled his eye.
"W-was?" She shook her head at him, and he gave her a wicked smile.
"Vhagar burnt it." He shrugged.
"What!?" The sharp cry put a strain on her voice and she grabbed at her neck again. Aemond watched the movement.
"Your shop is nothing more than ashes in the street." He clarified, turning to find a place to sit, clearly tired of their conversation.
The arrogance of the motion broke Rheyas temper in two. She threw herself at him.
"You bastard! You arrogant prick!" She shoved at him, hard. He took a step back.
"I have no money! No land! Nothing to my name but that shop and the corpse of my brother- which are now gone! What have you done?!" She clawed at his chest until he grasped her forearms, giving her a slight shake.
"I did you a favour." He hissed between his teeth.
"You had no right!" Her voice was a broken cry now. Aemond only cocked his brow. 'Of course, he had the right, he was a prince' his gaze said.
Rheya stoped struggling againt him when he shook her again, steeling herself as best as she could. But it was all too much. The past years of her life had been an utter misery, but at least she had had her shop. And now her future was a pile of ash. A tear escaped her, and Aemond practically snarled when he saw it.
"I have nothing." She said, more to herself than to him.
"You have your craft." Aemond replied.
"What?" She looked up at him, sniffing, her throat raw.
"You are going to work here, in the Keep. The smith has sudden need of a new apprentice." A quiet secret flashed in his eye, but the look was gone a moment later.
"In the Keep? For the king?" She could hardly believe it.
"For the king. For the knights. For me. Whoever bid you make them a weapon." He shrugged as if were nothing.
"But I can't." She shook her head. He seemed to read her mind.
"You commissioned a blade for the Rogue Prince. Now is not the time to be modest." He gave her a slight smirk, finally releasing her wrists and taking a seat by the fire. Rheya didn't move.
"And what do I owe you for this?" She glanced quickly at his bed, where the sheets lay strewn from where she had been in recovery.
Aemond followed her gaze and let out a snorted laugh.
"Trust me, little smith, I have no desire to have you warming my bed." He drawled, and her spine snapped straight.
"Don't flatter yourself." She spat at him, but his smile didn't fade.
"I could have you if I wanted you, you know." She could see the slight threat in his eye.
"I would throw myself from the window before you could lay a hand on me, prince." She narrowed her own eyes at him, but he only shrugged.
"Meera will escort you to your rooms. Do try and be on time for your shift in the morning." He gave a side glance to her ribs and she clenched her teeth. He was so hot and cold. One moment he was saving her from her brother and giving her a home, the next he was threatening her and giving her no time to rest from her ordeal.
She gave him an icy smile and a mocking bow as the maid entered at his call. Rheya followed the girl out of the room, never once looking back.
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