Sweet obedience

Chapter Three

As soon as they left the hall, out of sight of the rest of their family, Rhaella quickly dropped her arm from his.
"You can stop the performance now Uncle. No one is watching us."
Aemond touched the spot where her hand had just left, his fingers lingering, "I'm sure my half sister would want me to look after her daughter."
"My mother knows I can look after myself." Rhaella stated as they walked in the direction of her chambers.
Just as she were about to take another step, Aemond grabbed her hips, spun and slammed her into the wall. Her back hit the stone, slamming painfully and shaking her to her senses.
He pinned her in place easily, moving one hand to her waist and the other pinning her arms above her head. He nudged his knee in between her legs, and watched as she squirmed in his strong grasp.
"Go on." He challenged her. "Help yourself."
Rhaella turned her head to the side, his lips hovering inches away. If anyone were to see them, her honour would be in tatters.
"Take your hands off me," she demanded, as calmly as possible, her head ringing.
"Can you not get free, sweet niece?" Aemond taunted, crushing her wrists with his grasp.
"I don't want to ruin my dress," she retorted, feeling his leg pushing against her inner thighs. She was thankful for the material between them. "You aren't worth it."
He hiked his knee up, and she felt her feet rise, her toes stretching to keep herself on the ground. "It is a very fancy dress." He eyed how it pulled in her waist, and how the material fell loosely over her hips. Other than the neckline, it was relatively modest, but Aemond was lucky that he had a vivid imagination. "But I don't want you to wear it again."
"Excuse me." She snapped to face him. "You think you can give me orders, I think you have forgotten your place Uncle."
"Unless it is for me to take off." He added smartly, licking his bottom lip.
Rhaella laughed, truly believing that he was joking. "You nearly murdered my brother, we aren't friends Uncle. Gaomagon daor issa naejot sōpagon rūsīr ao." Don't expect me to laugh with you.
"Pāsagon issa Rhaella. Nyke gaomagon daor jaelagon naejot sagon raqirossa." Trust me Rhaella. I don't want to be friends.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, resenting the way he said her name so passionately. "Nyke vēdros ao." I hate you. She meant it.
The way he looked at her lips, her neck, her chest, she felt as if he were devouring her with his eyes. "Nyke kostagon glaesagon rūsīr bona. Hae bōsa hae ao pendagon bē issa." I can live with that. As long as you do think about me.
"Nyke jāhor pendagon bē ao, skori nyke pendagon bē ozzālagon issa qrinuntys." I will think about you, when I think about burning my enemies.
Aemond narrowed his eyes, "Nyke'd raqagon naejot ūndegon bona." I'd like to see that. He dropped his knee and she found her footing again on the floor. But his grasp on her wrists remained. "Syt nykeā ābra sīr byka, ao issi nēdenka." For a woman so small, you are fierce.
"Nyke se ānogar hen zaldrīzes. Nyke emagon dōrī issare byka." I am the blood of the dragon. I have never been small. Rhaella shook against his grasp, jolting her body forward and daring him to taunt her again.
"You looked small next to my mother." Aemond let her go, and watched as she almost fell to the floor. Her long hair fell out of its fastenings and in loose waves down to her waist. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and her chest rose and fell with breathlessness.
Rhaella steadied herself, and just about stopped herself from slapping him across the cheek. "She is the Queen, and I am here at the request of my Grandsire. I will do my duty, and then leave."
"You still believe it was your Grandsire's idea to betroth you." Aemond questioned, "my father barely leaves his chambers these days. He is dying- thought no one else admit it."
"And he wishes to see me wed." Rhaella brushed down her dress, and took a step away from her Uncle. If she didn't trust him before, she certainly didn't now.
Aemond laughed, closing the space, "and you want to marry some foreign cunt."
"I've heard Cregan Stark is remarkably handsome." Rhaella stated, her eyes narrowed and sharp, "and extremely capable with a sword."
His fists clenched at the mention of the Northman. "I'm surprised your mother hasn't married you to one of your brothers."
Rhaella felt slightly sick at the thought, "that isn't going to be necessary, not when I have every nobleman in Westeros and Essos falling at my feet."
"Targaryens have wed brother to sister, uncle to niece, for centuries. It keeps our bloodline pure."
He towered over her body by at least a foot, and she realised her vulnerability as they stood alone in the dark corridor. Most of the gold cloaks were in the hall protecting the King and Queen, and even if they did wander upon the pair, they had vowed to protect the Prince, and that is where their loyalty would lie. They wouldn't intervene.
"And vulnerable," Rhaella added, "we rule the seven kingdoms. Not the one kingdom. How can we expect loyalty if we do not offer our own in return."
"We demand it, with fire and blood." Those three words, the same ones she has heard every day her entire life. "Aegon the conqueror didn't ask politely, he took what was his."
"But he also rewarded loyalty, I intend to do the same."
"You have high ambitions niece." Aemond stated, "you'd be wise not to let my mother see them."
"Will you not tell her?" Rhaella questioned boldly, "is that not why you are here? To provoke me into spilling all my secrets. Ao kostagon ivestragon zȳhon nyke emagon mirre." You can tell her I have none.
"I have no interest in my mother's games." Aemond replied. "Nyke sepār jeldan naejot ūndegon lo ao'd pryjagon." I just wanted to see if you'd break.
"Emagon nyke kreni ao?" Have I satisfied you? She taunted him.
Aemond pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You have no idea."
Rhaella shivered at his touch, her lips quivering with what she could only assume was anger. How dare he touch her like that, how dare he touch her so softly.
She snapped back to reality, to the man who was standing in front of her, and took off down the corridor, hurrying back to her chambers with her skirt bunched in one hand.
It wasn't decent of her to be entertaining such a conversation, she had let her emotions get the better of her.
Not long after; she heard Aemond groan, and quickly following that she heard his footsteps behind her.
He had barely wanted to speak to her on the walk over from the dragon pit, yet here he was chasing after her, taunting her with confusing words and gestures.
"I thought you hated me too." Rhaella stated as he caught up with her. "It is easier that way."
"You want to hate me," Aemond replied, "but you don't really."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
"I have seen the faces of many men who hate me," Aemond stated, "the peasants in Fleabottom, the first man I ever killed with my sword, my father's brother."
Rhaella thought of Daemon, and his distaste for both her uncles. "Im a better liar than Daemon is." She stated callously. "And I am no man."
"That you are certainly not." She could feel his eyes on her ass, Rhaella rolled her amethyst eyes.
They made it back to the entrance to her chambers, the silence in the dark corridor heavier than ever.
"I will have guards posted here shortly," Aemond told her, "if you need me, let them know."
"I won't need you. " She retorted sharply, a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. She took a step towards him, and Aemond's blue eye sparked to attention, "if you ever touch me again, I will take your eye."
He felt a sharp prick at his stomach, and looked down to find a ruby encrusted dagger, aimed towards his body.
He hadn't even seen her remove the weapon, hadn't the slightest idea that she knew how to wield a blade.
Rhaella glared intently, "I told you, I can look after myself."
She withdrew her dagger slowly, before slipping it back into the harness strapped to her calf. Aemond caught a glimpse of the lithe leg hidden under her skirts, the tanned, creamy skin that he wanted so desperately to taste, and prayed to the gods one day it would be wrapped around his neck.
"You will still have the guards." He instructed firmly.
Rhaella nodded, as she pushed open the door to her chambers.
"Stay inside and keep the door locked."
"Thank you for your concern Uncle," she replied, "I wish to be left alone now."
She'd had enough of Aemond Targaryen for one day.
"Sleep well Princess." Aemond muttered, watching her as she stepped inside her chambers, shut the door behind and bolted the door.
She didn't hear his footsteps, but she supposed he was light on his feet.
Rhaella was truly exhausted, and she knew as soon as she climbed into bed she would fall asleep straight away.
She slipped off her dress, with some struggle, and then pulled on a silky, black night gown, which fell down the floor in ripples of expensive fabric. It was her favourite piece of clothing, clinging to her body in just the right places, and keeping her warm skin cool.
She didn't wear it often on Dragonstone, the weather didn't suit very well, but here in Kings Landing with the warm, balmy nights, well it felt like perfection.
Rhaella slipped into the large bed, letting her silver hair splay across the pillow, and finally let her heavy eyes close.
She fell asleep the fastest she had in a long time.