The Wild Dragon

Chapter 8 - Touched

Princess Alaera Targaryen didn't usually enjoy long baths. Sure, they were welcomed and she liked cleaning after hours of training or of walking around, but soaking for long was simply a waste of time. That evening though, she forgot herself there and only the repeated soft knocking on the door got her to rise from the already tepid water. Hair still soaking wet, a robe tightly wound around her, she opened the door to find her companion of the day standing with a tray full of food, face serious, maybe even troubled. She had expected him to want to talk after the events of the day behind them. His silence on the way back to the Keep only told her how shocked he had been, how out of place he must have felt the whole long afternoon they had spent in the birthing house.

Their eyes locked together, she expected him to say something, but he seemed wordless so, after some long moments, she moved aside to allow him to enter her rooms. He had obviously also bathed, for he was dressed much less formally than she had seen him in... years, probably. His hair was still wet and unbound, falling in a curtain around his shoulders. She sensed a heaviness between them and couldn't say exactly where it originated, if in the events of the afternoon or in the night they had slept in each other's arms in a quiet acceptance of their fast changing relationship.

He laid the tray on the table by the window and looked somewhat uncomfortable around the room, as if unsure what to say or do. Not exactly an attitude she was used to seeing in Aemond, not since he had gained a dragon and, through it, overcame his perceived failings as a dragonless Targaryen prince.

"I thought you might enjoy a late dinner," he said indicating the tray but he held his gaze stuck to hers.

"Thank you," she smiled softly and had to stop herself from jumping in his arms. Why did she feel this for a man so much younger than her, a man she had seen growing since the cradle? She had avoided men like a plague her whole life. Sure, most held no interest in her eyes, but there had been curiosity in her to explore that part of herself. But none of those she met either in Westeros or during her travels came even close to what this young man effortlessly made her feel.

She became conscious of her nakedness under the robe that now clung partially soaked to her body and felt her cheeks heat up. She was not a shy maiden, she had never been even back when her marital status was the constant talk of the Keep and of her father's small Council. She had not cared then of men and courtship and had overtly rejected every approach, only finding comfortable companionship inside her family. But now her half-brother sat in front of her making her self-conscious and almost afraid of her own body's unwanted reactions to him. "Sit, eat, please. I'll be right back," she said and retired to her bathing room. She closed the door behind her and leaned on it, noticing the heat starting to pool between her legs. She was tempted to jump back in the water and punish her treasonous body with a cool bath. Alas, the water was not yet cold enough for that. Anger rose inside her and the opened window tempted her more than returning to the room where a straight backed Aemond sat way too close to her bed. If only she could fly....

She tried to dry the water still dripping from her hair and when she was satisfied with that, turned to look for an alternative to the wet gown that clearly showed the reaction even the thought of him produced to her breasts. She only found the red dress she had worn that morning and nothing else. It would have to do, she thought, and changed into it.

After a few deep and hopefully calming breaths, she exited the bathing room to find him sitting without eating, his eye on the door she just came through. He rose at once and, ever the gentleman, pulled the other chair by the table for her to sit in. She shortly felt his warm breath on her neck and cursed her body for being so easily aroused.

"You didn't eat," she noticed the plates still untouched.

"I didn't come to eat, Alaera. I came so we could eat together," he said and his voice seemed to her deeper than usual. The roll of her name on his tongue sounded different tonight. His dark amethyst gaze never left her, so she admitted defeat and broke it first, assessing the plates and choosing something from them, although no hunger plagued her, but a rising tension that knotted in her belly.