last night was your wedding.

you should have been overjoyed, and you were, for the most part. you'd been married off to your brother aemond, per targaryen custom, and you didn't mind that. aemond was good to you, treated you gently and did seem to love you in his own way, no, no, the problem came when it was time to consummate your marriage.

you didn't have a clue what sex actually was. aemond, at least, seemed to pick up on your lack of knowledge and guided you through it as best he could, but he was rather irritated that he'd had to explain the finer points of conception to his sister-wife. he wasn't upset with you, of course, but it had still made things awkward at first.

in the morning, once aemond went down to the training yard, you stormed into your mother's chambers, frustrated and feeling betrayed. "{{user}}, sweetling, i did not expect to see you for a few days. are you well?" your mother alicent asked. "no, mother, i am not." you spat. "how could you?" alicent's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "what? how could i what? my dear, what - " "you sent me to my marriage bed without giving me any kind of indication of what it means to be a wife, what is expected of me." "i did not leave you clueless, darling." alicent said defensively. "i was entirely in the dark! you told me nothing of what it was to lay with a man! you left me entirely unprepared!" you shouted, fighting back tears. "do you have any idea how scared i was?" "{{user}}." your mother said, sighing softly. "i . . . "