Ah —! [ Laughing low, he tilts his head even further to let Adar's mouth roam as it will. ] For now you might leave some proof of yourself on me that cannot be washed away.
[ He brushes his hair aside and exposes the curve of his neck, where he was gently bitten before. Still pink. ]
Put a bruise on me, I want it. Some part of you with me when you're away.
I do not think you will soon forget my cock inside of you. [Adar's voice is low and gravelly, barely hiding his amusement and the remnants of desire that will not abate.] But anything for my dear dragon.
[He goes back to teasing along the fine, pale skin of his throat, a few times he seems like he has found the spot he will claim and then merely teases him with the edge of his teeth and his tongue. He could be generous and claim somewhere that would be easily tucked behind hair or leathers, but he picks the spot just below Aemond's ear where neither collar nor the way he likes to wear his hair will hide it and draws the delicate flesh between his teeth, claiming it with measured strength to not cut him, sucking on the flesh and teasing it so it would form a bruise by the dawn.]
[ His chuckles turn into happy hums as he sifts through Adar's hair, cradling his head as he teases him. Though worn out and keen to sleep, he lets out a strained gasp as Adar works him up all over again. He doesn't ask him to stop, wearied arousal threading back through his veins as hot blood ignites a slowburn fire for the second time in the same evening.
[Elves could go again and again, but he certainly didn't expect Aemond to, so the renewed desire makes him smile against his throat, kissing the reddened flesh fondly as he lets those words sink in.
Now he has his wits about him, he can try Aemond's own tongue and so after some lingering consideration he whispers in his ear,]
Ivestragon nyke skoros jaelā. [His accent is imperfect, but for someone who was learning without a proper tutor it rolled off his tongue with relative ease.]
[ !!! He leans back, eyes wide over violet and sapphire. ]
You're incredible!
[ Laughter buffets out of him as he cups Adar's face for a charmed kiss, over and over. Aemond's fluttering heart answers for him, even as his body warms to Adar and presses in close. ]
Jaelan ao naejot sagon ñuhon va moriot, olvie jorrāelatan mēre.
[It was a gift of the elves, one he retained even now. But thankfully the words he had wanted were simple enough, plucked out of Aemond's various bouts of Valyrian over the last months. The effort was more than worth the reward which gets him showered in affection in a way that makes him forget he is so ancient and love so foreign of a taste on his tongue.]
As you said before, sweet dragon, I am very old, and it comes with many skills... So teaching you at least Sindarin will only be fair. Perhaps Quenya, if you take to it. That is the first tongue I knew, long ago.
I will learn anything you wish to teach me. It would be my honour to know the tongues of your people, as it is to be with you.
[ Cosied up together, he settles back on a shoulder and twines around Adar as best he physically can, ignoring his half-hard state in favour of being close. He has the feeling he's going to experience the same swell of desire on and off, as they spend time together in bed. ]
I want to stay forever in this land with you and Vhagar. This tower.
Maybe we can stay forever. They seem in no hurry to kick us out, and time passes but does not. [His mind circles right back to his fruit experiment, all lined up on the mantle in his room from oldest to newest, most of them well past the time they should have spoiled.]
It has been a long time since I had a true home [and he had found it in him.]
[ Hundreds of years, he knows, but he's curious as to where Adar went during that time. An apology for the question comes in the way Aemond strokes up and down Adar's arm. ]
It must be over two thousand years now. Maybe more, but not less. And I can never return to that home, anyway. [So he would make a new one, here, if he could manage it with his silver dragon. And maybe his fëa would heal with time, become less the stitched-together rags that Sauron had forced him into and more like the elf he once was, the elf his young lover deserved.]
[ He pokes him for making fun of himself, and thus Aemond's initial reaction to his age. The sun, honestly. He's just accepting that now. ]
Aegon is often drunk or abed with the bawdiest wenches in Flea Bottom, not even the Silk Street. You will find him avoiding all responsibility of being the heir.
The heir apparent goes there, yes, to wash his cock in whatever holes stand still long enough. He has left bastard sons and daughters in his wake, so often has he visited.
I cannot claim to have ever been very virtuous, even when I was purely an elf, but I cannot say that sounds like a good idea by any measure. Nor can I imagine not claiming one's children and keeping them close.
It's bad enough he puts his dragonseed about and dishonours old traditions of making the bastard seedlings, but worse that he upsets the queen when she hears of it. My sister is a soft-hearted girl.
[Upsets the Queen, fair enough, affairs were something the Elves did not do but–]
Sorry, did you say your brother is wedded to your sister? As in siblings by birth? [????????? Where's a volcano when you need one to clear out your head.]
Yes. Targaryens are not like other men, our blood must remain pure. My brother married my sister, in Targaryen fashion, just as my uncle wedded my half-sister years before. [ He reels it off casually, playing with Adar's hair. ] I would have married my sister and done my duty without half so much complaining as Aegon, that spoiled idiot.
[In actual truth he would rather talk about Sauron melting his face off for a giggle in great detail than this. He doesn't even know how to begin to parse this information. It was simply not done amongst the Elves, and most men he knew had tried to avoid anything closer than cousins, at the worst, and the Eldar avoided even that.]
Is this due to the fall of your homeland? [Or was it before? It was surely to keep whatever magic they perceived let them talk to dragons and ride them, he assumed, but he wondered about when it had come about.]
It was the custom in Old Valyria, as I understand it.
[ He frowns at Adar, touching his face gently. Men (and apparently uruk) have looked at him that way before. ]
Many times over the centuries has the church tried to outlaw Targaryen marriages between siblings, wars were fought over our right to exist above other men in this way. But, if it eases your mind, my half-sister is the only one of my father's children born of his marriage to his own sister. My mother is of House Hightower.
[ Which is awful as blows go, really, but he loves his mother too much to ever complain about it. ]
[It is not exactly a sin that was unforgivable, but as these things go he did find it incomprehensible, especially when hearing it was not an act caused by their plight.]
I am not worried about the quality of your breeding, Aemond. [He softens his expression and turns his face to kiss the centre point of his palm that is touching his face.]
Elves do not marry even so close as first cousins. Some men do... [And some closer, still, though it was rare outside of small villages far from any others.]
No one does it save Targaryens, I know. I understand your disgust with our customs, it's alright. There are tomes upon tomes in the great library of the Red Keep that speak of the battles fought over it, as I said. I am no righteous fool.
[ He shrugs, nestled close. ]
I cannot apologise for it being part of who I am, that is all I wish to say.
[Disgust was not absent, but–] Confusion might be closer to the feeling, not disgust.
[He presses a line of kisses from the parting of Aemond's hair to the tip of his nose.] We are all children of The One, Aemond, the Master of the Secret Fire. The how or why we come to the world or what we do with our time on it does not change that fact.
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[ He brushes his hair aside and exposes the curve of his neck, where he was gently bitten before. Still pink. ]
Put a bruise on me, I want it. Some part of you with me when you're away.
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[He goes back to teasing along the fine, pale skin of his throat, a few times he seems like he has found the spot he will claim and then merely teases him with the edge of his teeth and his tongue. He could be generous and claim somewhere that would be easily tucked behind hair or leathers, but he picks the spot just below Aemond's ear where neither collar nor the way he likes to wear his hair will hide it and draws the delicate flesh between his teeth, claiming it with measured strength to not cut him, sucking on the flesh and teasing it so it would form a bruise by the dawn.]
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[ His chuckles turn into happy hums as he sifts through Adar's hair, cradling his head as he teases him. Though worn out and keen to sleep, he lets out a strained gasp as Adar works him up all over again. He doesn't ask him to stop, wearied arousal threading back through his veins as hot blood ignites a slowburn fire for the second time in the same evening.
Sighing, he shamefully croaks, ]
Nyke iēdrosa jaelagon ao.
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Now he has his wits about him, he can try Aemond's own tongue and so after some lingering consideration he whispers in his ear,]
Ivestragon nyke skoros jaelā. [His accent is imperfect, but for someone who was learning without a proper tutor it rolled off his tongue with relative ease.]
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You're incredible!
[ Laughter buffets out of him as he cups Adar's face for a charmed kiss, over and over. Aemond's fluttering heart answers for him, even as his body warms to Adar and presses in close. ]
Jaelan ao naejot sagon ñuhon va moriot, olvie jorrāelatan mēre.
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As you said before, sweet dragon, I am very old, and it comes with many skills... So teaching you at least Sindarin will only be fair. Perhaps Quenya, if you take to it. That is the first tongue I knew, long ago.
Then you will know, always, how much I want you.
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[ Cosied up together, he settles back on a shoulder and twines around Adar as best he physically can, ignoring his half-hard state in favour of being close. He has the feeling he's going to experience the same swell of desire on and off, as they spend time together in bed. ]
I want to stay forever in this land with you and Vhagar. This tower.
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It has been a long time since I had a true home [and he had found it in him.]
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[ Hundreds of years, he knows, but he's curious as to where Adar went during that time. An apology for the question comes in the way Aemond strokes up and down Adar's arm. ]
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[ Such a long time to be alive and that was not even Adar's true age. Aemond attempts to lift his spirits. ]
If I had to live that long around my brother I would never stop chasing him with Vhagar.
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Is your brother so terrible? I do not think Vhagar would take long to catch anyone she set her mind to eat.
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Aegon is often drunk or abed with the bawdiest wenches in Flea Bottom, not even the Silk Street. You will find him avoiding all responsibility of being the heir.
[ The douche!!! ]
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The heir apparent goes there, yes, to wash his cock in whatever holes stand still long enough. He has left bastard sons and daughters in his wake, so often has he visited.
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[ Parse that one. ]
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Sorry, did you say your brother is wedded to your sister? As in siblings by birth? [????????? Where's a volcano when you need one to clear out your head.]
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Is this due to the fall of your homeland? [Or was it before? It was surely to keep whatever magic they perceived let them talk to dragons and ride them, he assumed, but he wondered about when it had come about.]
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[ He frowns at Adar, touching his face gently. Men (and apparently uruk) have looked at him that way before. ]
Many times over the centuries has the church tried to outlaw Targaryen marriages between siblings, wars were fought over our right to exist above other men in this way. But, if it eases your mind, my half-sister is the only one of my father's children born of his marriage to his own sister. My mother is of House Hightower.
[ Which is awful as blows go, really, but he loves his mother too much to ever complain about it. ]
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I am not worried about the quality of your breeding, Aemond. [He softens his expression and turns his face to kiss the centre point of his palm that is touching his face.]
Elves do not marry even so close as first cousins. Some men do... [And some closer, still, though it was rare outside of small villages far from any others.]
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[ He shrugs, nestled close. ]
I cannot apologise for it being part of who I am, that is all I wish to say.
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[He presses a line of kisses from the parting of Aemond's hair to the tip of his nose.] We are all children of The One, Aemond, the Master of the Secret Fire. The how or why we come to the world or what we do with our time on it does not change that fact.
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What I will do is claim you as mine, my only one. My Adar.
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