Aelinor had been anxious the entire duration of the day.

All she could think about was this so-called surprise Daemon had planned for her.

When she returned to her chambers that night, she found a note along with a sack of clothes and a hat on the table.

Unfolding the note, she found it was in fact a map of her room.

There was an marked on what appeared to be the wall behind her bed.

She'd heard of the secret passages built by Maegor the Cruel in his paranoia of being trapped in the castle when intruders would enter with the intent to kill him.

After their completion, Maegor killed the men who helped build them, in hopes of keeping them a secret.

Which clearly hadn't worked. Though they were tales.

Until now, Aelinor was uncertain they still existed.

Had they, surely someone would have found them. That is, if the secret passageway she found was not one of his making.

Mayhaps Elia Martell and her children could have survived if they'd known about them.

Following the map, Aelinor pushed on a few of the panels before one finally opened.

Inside, it was dark, as was to be expected, but she could see the staircase leading down to the lower levels of the castle.

With a quick look at her door, she shed her nightgown, changing into the provided clothes, and entering the tunnel, carefully closing the panel behind her.

Descending the steps, they lead her to section of the castle where the skull of Balerion the Black Dread resided. 920

Peering around the corner, she was relieved to find no one in sight.

She hurried across the room, leading her to a set of steps that appeared to lead outside.

Once she ascended the steps, she was greeted by a figure in a dark clock. The same dark cloak as the man who rescued her in Flea Bottom.

She had almost turned back, fearing she had been caught, before she recognized the cloak.

"Daemon," she chuckled. " I should have known."

He said nothing, only turning and walking away.

Aelinor was quick to follow behind him.

Before she knew it, they were in the streets of Flea Bottom.

"Where are we going? Why did you bring me here?" She asked.

He turned to looked at her. "This is where one goes when they don't want to be who they are."

As they ventured deeper, the scene grew denser. More bodies filled the street.

Vendors selling their wares, seers (or supposed seers) offering to tell people their future.

But perhaps the most shocking thing was every so often they would pass couples engaging in lewd acts.

Aelinor hadn't noticed Daemon stop, causing her to run into his back.

"Sorry," she apologized, before looking up to see where he had brought them.

It was a play, put on by the small folk.

Apparently the play was about the royal family.

Actors in outrageous costumes and makeup made their way into the stage.

One man had unruly black hair and a crown on top of his head. This was surely her father.

Another had a long blonde wig. Her mother.

The actor portraying her father took a long swig from a goblet that was clearly meant to be wine.

"Seven Hells, Robert. You're drinking again." The actor playing her mother said.

"Leave me be, woman. I am the King. I can do whatever I want."

This was already eerily reminiscent of conversations she'd heard between her parents.

This continued on for another minute or two before a young actor in a silver wig stepped out.

She supposed this was meant to be her.

"Mother! Father! Please don't fight! You know I hate it when you fight!" They said, causing Aelinor to frown.

It wasn't too much of a stretch, but she could feel something more serious setting in.

"Ah, the Gods curse me for killing my kin by giving me a daughter who looks like the bastard!" The actor playing her father bellowed.

Again, this wasn't far off. Robert hardly looked at his eldest daughter when he was alive. When he did, it was easy to spot the disdain he held for her Valyrian features.

They stood in the crowd, watching the play, mocking her and her family.

They moved past her father's death, to the crowning of Joffrey, mocking her for not inheriting the throne, due to her lack of a cock.

Deciding she had seen enough, she moved to leave, Daemon close behind.

They made their way through the crowded streets, Daemon offering her his hand so they did not get separated.

Aelinor couldn't help but find herself intrigued.

So this is what occured while she and her family were nestled in their beds, bellies full, and content, well, mostly content.

She felt a light tug and turned back to Daemon who was leading her somewhere.

"Where are we going?"

He did not answer, only continued on, like he was on a mission.

They weren't walking for long when he turned the corner and entered an establishment, snatching her hat as he did so.

Aelinor didn't have much time to react to her hair becoming visible as she was instantly taken aback at the sight of various people coupling. Man and woman. Woman and woman. Man and man. And any combation of the sort.

Aelinor inched closer to Daemon, her head barely reaching his chin.

"What is this place?"

"It's where people come to take what they want. To forget who they are."

"Is that what you want to do? Forget?"

"I'm to leave and you're to be married soon. F*cking is a pleasure, you see. For the woman as it is for the man. But it doesn't stop us from doing what we want. From f*cking who we want."

Aelinor and Daemon now stood so close, they could feel each other's breath.

Each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Aelinor's eyes flickered between his eyes and lips, a clear indication of what she wanted.

Without hesitation, both leaned in, their lips finally meeting.

Aelinor grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, deepening their kiss.

Everything that was happening around them faded away.

Now it was only them.

Daemon swung them around, pushing her up against the wall, not once detaching their lips.

Aelinor eagerly met his intensity.

Spinning her around so she was now facing the wall, he undid her pants, pulling them down.

Aelinor, wanted to seize the moment, quickly turned around and reconnected their lips.

Instead of meeting her halfaway, Daemon pulled away.

At first Aelinor thought it was a part of the act. Him wanting to be in control.

Chuckling, she moved to kiss him again, only for him to again pull away.

Their faces were still close enough to feel each other's breath.

She tried a few more times, going as far to grasp his chin.

At her touch, he closed his eyes, but still made no move to return her affection.

After a few moments, he simply walked away, leaving her half-dressed.

"Daemon?" She called out.

But it was too late. He was gone.

Still fuming, though more hurt, Aelinor made her way back to the Red Keep and stomped her way towards her chambers. She could care less who saw her.

Why? Why did he bring her to that place, only to leave her mid way through the act? Why start if he wasn't going to finish?

To Aelinor, he appeared to be fighting himself, or maybe that's what she was telling herself to lessen the embarrasment.

Turning the corner to the hall that led to her room, she noticed the figure did not have the dark locks of Ser Fowler.

No, this knight had sandy brown hair.

As she neared him, she recognized him instantly. It was Ser Robert Ashford. A noble house from the Reach, vassals to the Tyrells.

She had seen him around the Keep quite often, and a few years ago she did have a crush of sorts on him.

Despite having no relation, he looked remarkably like Ser Loras, her husband to be.

Perhaps that is what drove her to do what she would do.

She breezed by him, entering her room, ignoring the shocked expression on his face.

Closing the door behind her, she bumped into a nightstand, knocking a trinket to floor, resulting in a loud clatter.

"Shit!"

"Princess? Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch a maestar?"

"No!" Aelinor exclaimed, wretching open the door. "I'm fine. You don't need to call anyone."

She looked him over, noticing the helmet in his hand.

Not sure what came over her, she grabbed the helmet, waving it in front of her as he sent her an exasperated look.

She held it out like she was going to return it, only to run further into her room.

"Princess," he chided.

She waved the helmet in front of him again, only to pulled it back as he reached for it.

Shrugging, he began to leave. But Aelinor cut him off.

Once again she held the helmet towards him.

Only this time, when he approached to grab it, she kissed him.

He did not pull away immediately, most likely out of shock.

However, when he did, he said, "Princess, we cannot."

"Says who. Do you think I haven't noticed you staring at me? You tried to be discreet, but I saw you. Can you honestly tell me you haven't fantasized about this moment? The kinghts of the Keep are many things. Subtle is not one of them. They think I have not heard the vulgarities of things they wish to do to me."

"I would nevr-"

"I know Ser Ashford," she said, reaching up, tousling his curls. "You are one of the good ones. You know I had a crush on you."

"On me?"

"Mhmm," she nodded. "You may not admit it, but I have thought of this moment. Will you indulge me, just this once?"

Ser Ashford made no effort to resist as she rejoined their lips.

They began undressing before heading to her bed.

Little did she know, it would no be "just this once".

A/N: As you can tell, I don't have experience writing smut, so I'm sorry if this is a bit awkward. For Ser Ashford, imagine Ryan Corr, who plays Ser Harwin Strong in House Of The Dragon, but with sandy brown (medium brown like Loras) hair. Sort of like the above picture.