The King's Whore - Aegon/Aemond

Chapter 20

It was sunrise when Aemond found Fern in the gardens. She'd been drinking and had fallen asleep tucked behind a rosebush against an old wall.
He could still feel his mother's fury and horror radiating through the Keep. Could still see the look on her face when he'd told her what had happened at Storm's End...
How little Lucerys Strong was no more.
But Fern seemed to have no idea. The young whore looked like she was having problems of her own.
“Fern?” He asked, crouching beside her. “Gods, you stink.”
“Charming.” She answered, rolling over to look at him. There was mud on her cheek.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Nowhere near enough.” She said. There were already tears in her eyes. They ran down those perfect cheeks of hers.
Aemond couldn't stop himself. He couldn't help but reach out and wipe them away.
"You look a mess." He said, staring at her as his hand remained on her cheek.
She looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow. "As do you."
Aemond scoffed, pulling away. "You have no idea."
She crawled closer. He averted his eyes when he realised her position made far too much of her chest visible.
"What's wrong, little prince?" She laughed, looking at him in that infuriatingly flirtatious way of hers.
Aemond stood up, pulling away. “Go back to your King, Fern.” He said a little harshly.
“I don't want to.” She whispered, looking up at him. She moved closer, still on her knees, and looked up at him. “I won't charge you.” She said, moving her hand slowly up towards his belt. She pulled him in. “You can have me for free.”
“Fern.” He warned, clenching his jaw. She could see that look in his lone eye. Like he needed this just as much as she did.
“Aemond.” She answered sweetly.
As they stared at each other, there was a clap of thunder in the clouds. Rain poured down from the heavens, soaking the ground. And neither one of them so much as flinched. They just stared at each other as the rain coated their skin and seeped into their pores.
“Get off the mud.” He said coldly, his eye watching her closely.
Fern did as she was told with a smirk, lifting herself off the ground gracefully. They were close now. So close.
Her lips brushed against his. “Yes, My Prince. Whatever you say.”
“Don't goad me today, Fern. I'm not in the mood for your games.”
“No games, Aemond. Just us.” She whispered. Her fingers moved slowly to play with his hair. “You want me. I know you do.”
“I don't want you. I don't think about you. You're not as important as you believe yourself to be.” He said but his voice was strained... As were his trousers.
Fern bit her lower lip. “You're an ass.”
“Am I? Then why don't you crawl back to your keeper?”
“Why don't you make me?”
Aemond's resolve was shattering. He grabbed her waist. “I can't do this, Fern. I...”
As if reading his mind, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. “You're troubled, sweet prince.” She softly stroked his cheek. “You don't have to worry about breaking me.”
Aemond closed his eye, taking a shaky breath as he clinged to the fabric of her dress. “You belong to Aegon.”
“I belong to whomever I choose.” She said, softly kissing his neck as the rain ran down his skin. She felt him shiver. “And I choose you, Aemond.”
His resolve shattered.
The Prince lifted her up, slamming her back into the wall. Fern wrapped her legs around him as they kissed. She could feel his passion, his fire, his need for her. And Gods it felt good to be needed. To be desired.
Aemond pushed into her, extracting a moan that was only drowned out by the pouring rain. He kissed and bit the soft skin of her neck as he held her tightly.
He groaned, slamming her back into the wall with every thrust. Fern held onto him, pulling on his hair.
“Gods...” She cried out, the pleasure immense. The pace was unrelenting, filled with a decade of pent up tension and desire.
Aemond kissed down her chest, his tongue running down one breast.
She moaned louder.
And louder.
The rain pelted their skin, the only thing that seemed to stop her from burning up. She couldn't speak or even think. All she could feel was the intense pleasure she was receiving.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, her heart thrumming in her chest. She could scarcely even breathe.
He kept going. Kept railing into her, pushing her to the limits of what she could possibly take.
She screamed his name.
He kept going.
Gods above. This was not the boy she'd met all those years before, the boy who'd been shy to touch her. No. He was a man. A man who knew exactly how to please her.
Her body tensed around him, trembling. She was sweating, gasping for air. Aemond groaned again.
Together, they both reached their finish.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped, as she felt his release inside of her.
But she did not protest it.
Instead, as she panted for air, she leaned in and kissed him deeply.
Aemond kissed her back, his arms rapping around her almost reverently.
He didn't want to let her go.
“I've never let a man fuck me for free before.” She said, her voice quiet in the downpour of rain.
But Aemond heard her. She could see that on his face.
The Prince sighed, pulling away.
In the rain, he placed his hand on her wet cheek and stroked it. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
“Go back to my brother, Fern.” He said reluctantly before pulling away.
They both stared at each other for a long moment. A look of longing and forbidden desires and regret and guilt and so much she could not name.
Then, finally, Aemond turned on his heel and left.
Fern stood in the rain, staring after him. She could feel her heart pounding, her body aching for more of him.
Her heart full of guilt.
But she closed her eyes.
She was not Aegon's wife. She was not his lover.
She was a whore.
And this is what whores did.
He'd made that much clear to her already.
But the sinking truth gnawed at her insides.
Whores made all men pay. So why had she never made Aemond?