The Rats Pt. 4
Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.
18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, child birth, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra cannot imagine what might cause such commotion in the middle of the night.
“The dragon keepers have just calmed Sunfyre, who’s been having a fit for the better part of three hours.” Daemon informs her.
“Why is this news?” Rhaenyra wonders, “you needed only to wake Prince Aegon so that he might calm his own dragon.”
“That was my intention, your grace.” Daemon assures her, “until it was brought to my attention that Stormborn had been taken from the pit.”
“Where is she now?”
“Her grace’s dragon has since been returned to the pit.”
“Where is my daughter now?” Rhaenyra asks.
The room falls silent, everyone glancing toward one another.
“We believe the princess to be abed.”
“Not one of you thought to make certain?” The Queen all but shouts, panic coursing through her.
“We thought it best not to disturb the princess while she is abed, your grace.” Not without permission from the queen herself…certainly not after the last time.
Prince Aegon was in quite a state, threatening to castrate any member of the royal guard who happened upon his beloved wife in the throes of passion.
“Never you mind, I will see to her myself.” The Queen stalks down to her daughter’s room, pounding at the door.
It is Aegon who answers, “Rhaenyra?”
“I need to see her.”
Aegon hesitates, looking to his wife, who nods her approval. “She’s just there.” He takes a step back, allowing his half sister entry.
Y/N sits upon her bed in a pristine blush sleeping gown, hair still damp from the bath. “Mother.”
“Tell me the truth of it.” Rhaenyra approaches, hovering over her bedside. “Where were you this night?”
“With Aegon.”
Rhaenyra steals herself, “where were you whilst Sunfyre was howling in the pit? I know you took Stormborn, I have it on good authority. Tell me now, Y/N, where did you go?”
“To Harrenhal.”
Rhaenyra blanches, clutching her chest. “Why?” She sobs, “why would you do such a thing, knowing the risk?”
“Mother, I-”
“I have lost two of my children, I will not survive the loss of a third.”
“I have not done this to harm you, mother. But I am tired of being in pain. You’ve no idea how it feels to be tugged at by opposing sides, until you are torn down the middle.”
“Sweet girl,” Rhaenyra sighs.
“I understand why you needed Aegon and I to marry. I do not fault you for it, but times are different now. I love him, mother. Not for the crown, or the realm, or even peace. He is one half of me.”
“I wish you’d come to me, instead of facing all these troubles alone. I will always be your mother, no matter if you are a woman grown, you will not outgrow my love for you so long as I live.”
Y/N nods. “I love you dearly, mother. I want only to make you proud.”
“I am proud.” Rhaenyra assures her, “you needn’t prove yourself to me.”
“Then might I ask you to set a place for my husband at your table? Say it is not too late.”
“And what of Aemond?” Rhaenyra asks, mulling it over.
“He is gone.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Yes.” Y/N whispers.
“Show me.”
Y/N lifts her nightgown to reveal the charred skin of her wound.
“Alright,” Rhaenyra lowers the material once she’s gotten a good look. She kisses the top of her daughter’s head, “we will have the maester come with salve to dress it.”
Y/N nods.
“Have you taken anything for the pain?”
“Milk of the poppy.”
Rhaenyra’s hand is trembling as it passes over her daughter’s hair a second time. “Aegon, might you bring the maester?”
“Of course,” he nods. Stealing himself before wandering down the hall and away from his beloved wife. Returning with the maester, who begins tending the wound immediately.
“Is there anything else I might get you?” Rhaenyra asks, keeping hold of her daughter’s hand.
Y/N is mostly joking when she murmurs to her mother, “cake?”
Rhaenyra smiles, “I will see to it.”
Y/N relaxes as best she can to the poking and prodding.
“Aegon,” Rhaenyra nods toward the hall, “a word?”
“Of course,” Aegon follows her out.
“I owe you a debt, for taking care of my daughter. Y/N is the world to me, as she is to you.” Rhaenyra says. “Know that as I walk this path to reclaim the throne, we do so hand in hand. We are one house, as our father so willed it.”
Aegon nods, “thank you.”
————————————————————————
Years ago, after the council meeting where Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent agreed to the terms of their children’s betrothal; King Viserys himself called for Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N in his quarters.
It is put plainly before them, what is expected. What this union is meant to do; ease the strain between their two families.
“Stand together.” The king insists.
Y/N and Aegon inch toward each other.
“This will be expected of you from now on. You are betrothed, you will act as such.”
“Yes, father.”
“Yes, grandsire.”
At dinners they sit together, during shared lessons, anytime they are in the same room.
Stand together.
The princess continues her training alongside Helaena while her brothers and her betrothed argue regularly. The boys only find common ground when teasing Aemond for not having a dragon.
Queen Alicent appreciates these childish games least of all and raises her concerns with the King.
It is Y/N, having the least to do with any of it, who is summoned by her grandsire and his wife.
“Come sit, darling girl.” Viserys smiles, guiding Y/N over to his model of Old Valyria.
She nods, “thank you, your grace.”
“How are you enjoying your studies?”
“Very well,” Y/N tells him.
“I am glad to hear it. Even the septa has nothing but good things to say. You will make a fine queen, my girl.”
Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “It pleases me to hear you say this, Grandsire. I wish only to make you proud.”
Viserys takes her hand, “surely you understand that you are a reflection of your mother and myself, in your actions and your words.”
“Yes, of course.” Y/N squeezes his fingers.
“The time has come for you to consider those whose actions reflect on you.”
“I do not understand.”
“He is referring to your brothers, who wreak havoc on the whole of us.” Alicent chimes in.
“Oh, Alicent.” Viserys waves her away, “they are boys yet. I meant our Aegon.”
“Aegon?” Alicent scoffs, “those are the actions that trouble you?”
“He will soon be a man grown and future king consort. If he is to marry my granddaughter, he must act with dignity and grace.”
“Do you not see the true issue, your grace?” Alicent demands.
“You asked me to speak with Rhaenyra’s children,” Viserys reminds her, “is this not Rhaenyra’s child?”
Alicent locks eyes with Y/N, she is so young, so eager to please her family. “This child is not the issue.”
“You are correct, dear wife.” The king grins, “she is the solution. Y/N, you will go to Aegon, say what you must to light a fire beneath him. So that he too might behave in a manor befitting his station. Do you understand?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“Good,” Viserys releases her, “go now.”
Y/N stands, making her way to the door.
“See how easy that was?” Viserys turns to his wife, now standing with her back to him.
Y/N has some trouble locating the Prince, eventually she happens upon him on the stairs. “Prince Aegon,” she calls his attention.
The boy rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, my betrothed.”
“Might you walk with me to the gardens?”
“Do I have any choice?”
Y/N smirks, with a shake of her head. “No.”
“By all means, lead the way.” Aegon waves a hand, following her like an animal on a chain.
“The king and I had a rather illuminating conversation earlier.”
“And what did you discuss? How elated he is to seat you, a bastard, on the iron throne over me, his first born son?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.
“No, though I am sure he will be ‘elated’ to hear that his first born son called me a bastard, in the middle of the garden, for everyone to hear.”
Aegon clears his throat, “I would not say it in front of anyone.”
"This place is crawling with vermin, their eyes and ears are upon us at all times."
"You mean to tell me we have rats?"
"Not everything can be taken so literally, my prince."
Aegon stares through her, every word going over his pretty blonde head.
"Look, there's your father now." Y/N points, "watching us from his balcony."
Aegon whips around, spotting the king.
"Smile and wave, let him believe we are having a grand time."
Aegon does as he's told, earning a nod from Viserys. "Are we not?"
True to his word, Aegon does not call her a bastard again, to her face or behind her back. When Aemond’s eye is lost, the truth of it comes out.
Y/N and Aegon begin moving closer, behind Aemond’s chair. Stand together. Perpetually closing the space between their two houses.
When Alicent scolds Aegon for not protecting his brother, Y/N is near enough to receive a second hand lashing by her tongue. And when his mother’s palm meets his cheek, in a stinging slap, his hair brushes Y/N’s skin.
“What was that for?”
“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.”
“The legitimacy of my children’s births were called loudly to question.” Rhaenyra informs the king. “Vile insults were levied against them.”
“What insults?” Viserys sneers.
“He called us bastards.” Jacaerys says.
“Where did you hear such things, boy?” The king demands of the injured prince.
Aemond is quiet then, not willing to tell the truth. He first heard it from his mother, long before his brother. But Aegon has said it, many a time, before he abruptly stopped. “It was Aegon.”
Viserys rounds the chair, to confront his eldest son, with his eyes cast downward.
By the gods, let this humiliation end swiftly.
“Aegon!”
Stand together.
Y/N must not abandon her post.
“Yes, father.”
“Is this true?”
“It is.” Aegon admits, “and I am sorry for it. I am the elder, I should not have poisoned Aemond’s mind with such hatred. Especially as…these allegations are untrue. It was my mistake, forgive me.”
King Viserys takes a step back, “the next tongue to question the parentage of Princess Rhaenyra’s children will be removed.”
Y/N lets out a shuttering breath, catching her grandsire’s attention.
He offers her a reassuring smile, after threatening to cut out his children’s tongues. It feels wrong to be treated so differently, standing inches apart.
When the preceding is at an end, and Rhaenyra’s blood has been split, Y/N goes to find Aegon. He is tucked in against the grand archway, drowning in cups. "I brought you more wine."
Aegon eyes her warily, accepting the glass, “and what do you want?"
"May I sit with you?"
"If you wish."
Y/N takes a seat on the cool, stone floor beside him. "Thank you, for saying what you did.”
"My mother did not appreciate it."
Y/N hesitates, "I know it is not my place, but I do not like when she strikes you. Perhaps I could discuss it with your father?”
"My father? Who loves me least of all his children?" Aegon shakes his head. "A lot of good that would do.”
"They should not treat you that way."
“You care for me," he realizes. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.
"Should I not?”
"I would not know how to care for you in return."
"You defended me, in front of both our families.” Y/N challenges. “If that is not caring for me, I don't know what is."
Aegon feels the weight of her head resting against his shoulder, and he does not pull away.
"I am sorry for what happened to Aemond. I hope he finds peace and swift healing."
"If it were either of your brothers who’d been maimed, my father would pluck out Aemond’s eye himself and present it to Rhaenyra on a platter. There is no peace in that.”
Aegon becomes fiercely protective of his brother after that.
Y/N does not fault him for it.
The debacle of Driftmark sets their nuptials back several years. The blacks and greens remain in negotiation until Aegon is twenty and one and Y/N is ten and eight. At which point, Viserys proclaims they must either marry before the moon turns, or end the engagement to free both their hands for marriage.
Reluctantly, they are bound before the eyes of thousands.
Stand together.
They recite traditional Valyrian vows, sealing their covenant in blood. Sharing a dance or two before being whisked away to consummate said marriage, as other members of the wedding party drink merrily in the grand hall.
————————————————————————-
“Are they gone?” Y/N asks, toying anxiously with her wedding ring.
“They have strict orders,” Aegon sighs, “the appointed members of council cannot leave until they’ve heard a proper consummation.” He climbs into bed with her, both fully dressed in their marriage attire.
“We best get to it then.” Y/N begins plucking pins from her hair. The tapestry of braids falling free.
“Unless you’d rather have a bit of fun.”
“How do you mean?”
Aegon grins, “we could pretend.”
“Really?”
“This marriage is ours, no one else’s. When I bed you that will be ours and no one else’s.”
Stand together.
“How would we-”
Aegon rises up on his knees, gripping the headboard. “I will do the heavy lifting. Just lie back and think of the crown.”
Y/N covers her face with both hands as he begins thrusting at the air. The springs beneath them groan and crackle.
Aegon peeks down at her to find a smile painted across her lips, despite her shielded eyes. “Let them hear you, sweetheart. Make it believable.”
Y/N nods, releasing a sound she imagines a person might make while exchanging intimacies.
“Not like that.” Aegon chuckles, “they’ll think I’m murdering you.”
“I do not know how.”
“Have you never touched yourself?” He breathes.
“Never.”
Gods, he’s going to enjoy her. “That’s alright,” he continues his movements to jostle the mattress. “Just do as I do.” Aegon lets his mouth fall open, releasing a low moan.
The sound that escapes Y/N in return is not entirely forced. It makes her belly burn with desire.
They continue on like this for a while before Aegon murmurs, “big finish.”
“So quickly?” Y/N’s brow furrows.
Aegon’s eyes flicker about her, “I can’t imagine it will take long.”
As the grand finale comes to a close, Aegon makes for his dagger. Slicing his finger at the tip and allowing blood to pool before dragging the crimson stain across the bed sheet. He strips it from the bed, walking it to the door. “Deliver this to her majesty the Queen. I know she is impatiently waiting.”
Y/N begins pacing, beside the bed.
“They are gone. We are alone.”
She nods, “thank you, Aegon. For all of it.”
————————————————————————-
When Aegon does eventually bed her, it is well worth the wait.
“By the gods, that is not going to fit inside me.”
Aegon huffs a laugh, “I promise it will, darling girl. We must prepare you first.”
“How,” Y/N squeals.
He hushes her, lying open mouthed kisses across her collarbones.
“Will it hurt?”
“Not if I can help it.” He plans to burying his face between her thighs and bring her to the heavens. But the sweet little thing wants only to be held, kissed. Aegon lies beside her, one hand stroking her dark hair, the other moving down to her breasts, kneading them gently.
“You are beautiful,” he breathes.
“As are you.” She pants, moving her lips against his.
Aegon chuckles, “flattery will get you places.” He rolls her nipple between his fingers, flicking over it with the pad of his thumb.
Her hips rise of their own accord, grinding herself against his entwined leg.
“Slowly, my darling.”
Y/N nods, kissing him again to distract herself from the building ache between her legs.
Feather light caresses trail down to her sex, collecting a bit of wetness and slipping a finger into her heat. Pumping slowly, getting her used to the sensation.
“That feels nice.” She breathes, tugging at his hair.
Aegon smiles, “can you take another?”
“Yes.”
Aegon adds a second digit, working her open, pushing a bit deeper to her sweet spot. His fingers curl against it, relishing her little gasps. The princess is close now.
“Ahh,” she grasps his forearm.
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
“I-”
“Don’t cry.” By the seven, she is gripping his fingers like a vise.
“I cannot help it.” Her thighs tremble in earnest now.
“That is your peak, darling girl. You’re alright, I promise.” He continues stroking, pressing the base of his hand flush with her swollen pearl, applying gentle pressure until she finds bliss. He pets at her hair as she cries out. “Good girl,” he coos, working her through the crest and bringing her back down.
“That was heavenly,” she sighs, steadying her breathing.
You are heavenly.
“Might we do it again?”
Aegon chuckles, “as many times as you’d like.”
————————————————————————
In the early days of their marriage, Aegon realizes that his wife has a nasty habit of bedding him and waiting until he finds sleep to sneak off. Holding after hours council with her mother.
The practice itself does not upset him, but this night, her absence is especially troubling, as they have been drinking since dinner. His sweet wife is not well versed in wine drinking. She laughed so hard she cried and then rode him to kingdom come.
Aegon tosses back the covers, pulling on his clothes and moving quickly through the halls of the keep. He rounds the nearest corridor, colliding with his wife, running at full speed. “Sweetheart?”
“I was looking for you,” Y/N smiles.
“Where have you been?”
“Well, I could not find sleep so I went to the maester to ask for a draft.”
“Then you’ve been to the maester?” Aegon holds her at arms length, searching for any sign of harm.
“I was on my way to the maester when I happened across one of the groundskeeper’s wives and we got to talking.” Y/N admits, with a hiccuping laugh.
“What could you possibly be talking about for over an hour?”
“Just about everything, she is a lovely woman.” Y/N tells him.
Aegon nods, with a patient smile.
“I might have stayed longer, but it came up in conversation…all the ways a woman might please her husband. And I could not wait to tell you.”
“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.
“The smallfolk share things in the marriage bed I’ve never even heard of.” Y/N muses. “She told me that, on occasion, she puts his cock between her breasts and he-”
“Who is this woman, my darling? Did you get a name?”
“I do not remember her name. I’ve been drinking.”
“I’m well aware,” Aegon’s face softens. “Next time you cannot find sleep, wake me instead.”
Y/N nods.
“In return, I will teach you all the things a husband and wife might do together. I will even demonstrate, should you find it necessary.”
“Oh, could you?” Y/N grabs for his hands, in excitement.
Aegon sighs, “you will be the death of me.”
She leaves him little notes each time after, when she must go to attend her family.
‘My dearest Aegon, I will return soon. I could not stand to wake you from such a peaceful slumber. Worry not, I will always return to you.’
And she does, after council meetings and late nights with her mother. She always returns.
————————————————————————
After a particularly long week, Aegon avoids Y/N purposely. Attempting to clear the room when he finds her there.
“Have I done something?” Y/N stops him.
Aegon shakes his head, “it has been a long day. I do not wish to burden you.”
“When you are upset you may come to me.”
Aegon fights the urge to pull away, to ignore her until she leaves.
“I will hold you.” It isn’t much, but it is all she knows. The way her mother comforts her.
Aegon says nothing, sitting down to bury his head in his hands.
Y/N sighs, winding her arms around his shoulders, feeling them begin to shake.
He reaches for her slowly, as if such comfort might burn him, or she would simply bat his hand away. She doesn’t of course, she allows him to bring her closer, now seated in his lap.
The princess says not a word as her husband works himself free of his breeches. Taking her small clothes and skirt aside.
“It helps,” he tells her. “You help.”
He goes to her then, when the day is long. When there is news to share, on occasion, just to say hello. He goes to her because he can.
————————————————————————-
During dinners at the Red Keep they whisper secrets and share hushed laughter. When he grows tired of that, Aegon’s fingers toy with her pretty little cunt beneath the table, to watch her squirm.
“I love you.” He confesses, meeting her gaze as she turns to him at the height of her pleasure.
Y/N bites down on the inside of her cheek, holding perfectly still as Aegon works her through her peak. Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them clean on the fabric of her skirts. “I love you.”
No one is the wiser. Save for Otto, who knows all; or rather likes to believe he does.
Gone is any hope that the blacks or greens might use their influence to sway the tides from one side to another. Y/N and Aegon belong to each other now, a danger in its own right.
News of the princess’s pregnancy sparks a joyous celebration throughout the realm, only to be outshone by news of the birth. Two perfect little girls. Twins, named Dahlia and Visera, respectively.
“They are perfect, my dearest love.” Aegon marvels when they are placed in his arms.
Y/N nods.
“Are you well?” He asks, swaying from side to side.
Whether from weariness or the question itself, Y/N bursts in to tears.
Aegon carefully gives his daughters over to the maids. Climbing onto the freshly dressed bed with Y/N to hold her, stroking dark locks. “Shh, it’s alright.”
“It was awful,” Y/N sobs, clutching at him.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Everyone was barking commands at me, trying to rush the babe out, even worse with the second and my mother was the one person speaking against it.”
“Oh, my darling girl.” He sighs.
“I was tired and frightened…and the pain is unimaginable. I do not wish to do it again.”
Aegon sways her gently, “I am so terribly sorry.”
“You are the only person I wanted and I could not h-have you.”
“We will deliver the next just the two of us, if it pleases you.” Aegon promises.
“Your mother will never allow that.”
“She will not know.” Aegon kisses her cheek.
Y/N pulls back just enough to see him. “If you’re certain.”
“I am. Calm yourself now, my only love. This is a day of happiness.” Aegon dries her tears, “I should like to soak up every moment here, with the three of you.”
Y/N nods, “I would like that very much.”
At the prince’s request, Visera and Dahlia are returned to them.
Aegon takes his second born, tracing the soft lines of her little face, committing them to memory. “Papa loves you.”
Y/N grins at the sight, her own finger clutched in her eldest daughter’s fist.
It comes as a shock to only Alicent when Dahlia Targaryen is named their heir; with her claim upheld by Viserys himself. Aegon does not need a son, his daughters are his legacy.
They attend small council meetings as they grow, with Dahlia seated on her grandsire’s lap.
“Mama,” Visera pounds at the table, drawing attention from the other seats.
“What is it, my darling girl?” Y/N hushes her, hoping to hear their current positions on livestock.
The little girl reaches for the ball again. “Please?”
“What is it she wants?” Aegon asks, from beside his wife, pecking kisses to his daughter’s outstretched hand.
“The ball.” Y/N whispers.
“Ahh,” Aegon smiles, taking his ball in hand and turning it over to Visera. “There we are.”
“You’ll spoil her rotten.”
“Just like her mother, hmm?” Aegon jests, “that is the goal.”
Y/N bites back a grin, passing a hand over her daughter’s light hair.
Their daughters celebrate their third name day before the princess is expecting again.
“There seems to be only one of you in there, I fear.” Aegon whispers to the child in Y/N’s belly, pressing kisses to her skin.
“You fear?” His wife smiles.
“You see, three is an odd number, this child will need a companion.” The prince reasons.
Y/N doesn’t argue, listening to Aegon speak with their unborn babe until she falls asleep.
————————————————————————
Y/N’s term is nearly complete when Aegon finds his wife, holding their wailing daughters in her arms. One on each side of her belly.
“What’s happened?” Aegon asks.
Y/N looks to him, “the girls were playing and Visera closed the door on Dahlia’s finger by mistake. Now they are both inconsolable.”
Aegon reaches for his eldest daughter, “let Papa see, which finger is hurt.”
“My little finger,” Dahlia cries, presenting the red, angry digit.
“That does look terrible painful, my dearest love.” Aegon says, after carefully examination.
“I must have the maester.”
“Now, now, sweetheart.” Aegon presses feather light kisses to her hand. “We need a cold compress is all.”
The maids rush out to fulfill his request.
Dahlia rests her head against her father’s shoulder as she waits, sniffling while he rubs circles into her back.
“See there, darling girl? Your sister is alright.” Y/N gentles Visera, who is feeling incredibly guilty.
“I did not mean to.”
“Of course not, my love.” Aegon says, “twas only an accident.”
The rest of their day is spent playing dolls and Aegon giving pony rides. Which, while ridiculous, does serve as a form of entertainment for Y/N who sits aside to watch.
She may give birth any day now and she feels every bit uncomfortable, still she welcomes Dahlia into her lap as she waits for her turn on Aegon, the noble steed.
“Trot,” Visera orders, with a smile across her face.
“Trot?” Aegon laughs, “shall I do tricks for you as well, your grace?”
Y/N shakes her head, locking eyes with her husband; she mouths a single word, “spoiled.” She kneads the ache in her lower back with her free hand. Ignoring it through supper and long after Dahlia and Visera are asleep.
Aegon notices the way she keeps clutching at it. “Perhaps a warm bath might help.”
“That would be nice,” she croaks out.
“Might it be your labors, darling girl?”
“It is all in my back,” she does not recall hardly any pain in her back, whilst laboring with the twins. “I must have pulled it.”
“The girls are getting bigger, perhaps it’s best if you do not lift them, in this condition.” Aegon kisses her cheek, dashing off to find a maid.
Y/N inhales, closing her eyes to the dull throbbing ache. Even the tub does not help, she climbs back into bed, hoping to sleep it off, but the pain only intensifies.
“This must be more than a muscle.” Aegon whispers, lying behind her. Continuing to knead her hips at her request.
“It is my labors.” My chokes out.
“You’re certain?”
Y/N nods, “my waters just broke.”
Aegon presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Is there anything I might do for you?”
She shakes her head. “Walking will help the babe come down, I must stand.”
Aegon springs from the bed, helping her upright.
“Fuck.” She hisses, beginning to pace their rooms.
Aegon follows, unsure what else to do.
She reaches out for him after a while, when the pain is so great all she wants is an ounce of comfort.
“I’m here.” Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms as she sways gently from side to side.
Y/N clings to her husband, breathing him in. Focusing her attention on the sweetness of his words, to distract herself from her labors. “I’ll need to push soon.”
“Of course,” Aegon’s done his best to prepare himself. Studying whatever books he could manage, without drawing attention from prying eyes. Highborn ladies do not have children delivered by their husbands.
Queen Alicent will be livid when she finds out, but it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Y/N climbs atop the bed, remaining modestly covered.
“There’s no reason to be nervous, my darling. I’ve seen your cunt a hundred times.” Aegon flips her nightgown up, positioning her legs apart, bent at the knee. “There we are.”
“This is different, surely.” Y/N bares down as her belly contracts.
“Yes and no,” he pats her thigh.
She keeps a firm grip on his hand, crying out despite her best efforts.
“Alright, that’s alright.” Aegon scrambles for something to muffle it. “Might this work?” His belt.
“Yes.” Y/N takes it from him, stuffing the leather strap into her mouth. She is not entirely silent, little whimpers escape, though not enough to alert the guards.
Aegon is patient, kind, whispering words of encouragement. He never rushes her, brushing his hands across her skin. “There you go, my dearest love.” He can see the child’s head now.
Her eyes water, gritting her teeth so tightly they ache.
“Breathe.”
Y/N draws in a breath through her nose, releasing it in a strangled manner, akin to a dying animal.
“Good girl,” Aegon is prepared to catch the infant.
The princess’s head falls back as the child emerges, connected to her by only the afterbirth.
“Slippery little fellow, aren’t you?” Aegon coos, holding his son in his arms.
The infant begins to wail.
“A boy?” Y/N pants, tossing the belt away to catch her breath.
“Yes, my darling girl.” Aegon grins, “how are you?”
There is still pain, there will always be pain, but it is largely outweighed by the image of Aegon holding their son. She bursts into tears, “I am well.”
“Oh dear,” he frowns, carefully maneuvering his newborn son. He lies the infant against her chest, leaning down to comfort her as best he can. “Was it not what you wanted?”
“It was better, my love.” Y/N assures him, counting their babe’s tiny fingers. “I am overjoyed.”
“Overjoyed,” Aegon huffs, clunking his forehead against hers. “Of course that is why you’re crying.”
The maesters come after a while, to be sure that Y/N and the babe are well. After receiving the all clear, they are finally able to rest. Waking early in the morn to present the newest member of their family.
Y/N is tired and sore, even now, lying abed doesn’t suit her. She sits upon a cushion, in a loose fitting gown, tracing the slope of her new babe’s nose. “Are you nearly ready, my love?”
“Nearly,” Aegon remarks. While fastening his breeches he discovers the shapes notched into his belt. He lets out a laugh.
“What is it?” Y/N smiles.
“Look,” he rounds the stool, jutting out his hips.
“Your cock?” The princess arches a brow. “I have seen it.”
“Here, darling girl.” He grins, tracing the outline of her indentations. “From your teeth.”
Her cheeks heat up, “you must take it off.”
“Take it off?” Aegon frowns, “this is a badge of honor. I will wear it day in and day out.”
“You are insufferable,” Y/N sighs.
Aegon pecks a kiss to her parted lips, silencing any protest and setting off to gather the rest of their children.
Y/N dearly misses her mother and brothers in Dragonstone.
————————————————————————
In the months after Laenor’s birth Y/N begins searching for a teacher willing to help her learn a skill most princesses never acquire. Leading her to seekout a man she never has before.
“I want to train by the sword.”
Aemond pauses his sparring practice. “Surely I misunderstand you, dear niece.”
“You are the best, I require a tutor.” Y/N puts it plainly.
“I must be, if you are asking me, of all people.”
“I will admit, you were not my first choice. But Aegon refuses to so much as raise a sword against me and my brothers never cared for knocking me down; where as you will have no qualms about it.”
Aemond smirks, “this is true.”
“I also thought it might be a way for you and I to come together…as family.”
Aemond squares his shoulders, “very well then. Take up your sword.”
The two of them have something in common at long last, until Princess Y/N falls pregnant again, some months later.
Viserys’ condition continues to deteriorate, it is unclear if he will survive to see Y/N and Aegon’s fourth child. As luck would have it, he is lucid when the Prince and Princess present their second son, Prince Aegon, fourth of his name.
“Well done, my girl.” The king manages.
Y/N smiles, “Aegon helped.”
“I should expect so,” Viserys laughs.
“I meant only that he too deserves a job well done.”
Viserys looks to her, as if seeing her for the first time. Then turning to his son he whispers, “well done, my boy.”
Aegon is taken aback, “thank you, father.”
————————————————————————
News of Lord Corlys Velaryon’s injury in the Step Stones brings forth Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to be named his brother’s successor over Lucerys.
This business, however unpleasant, brings Rhaenyra and her children back to King’s Landing.
“We were planning to visit in a few months time, after the babe was born.” Rhaenyra tells her daughter. “But it is always a joy to see you, darling girl.”
Y/N hugs her mother, tightly, “I’ve missed you.”
Rhaenyra strokes a hand over her daughter’s hair. “I have missed you terribly.”
King Viserys musters his last bit of strength to affirm his position for Lucerys and make known that his daughter, Rhaenyra, will always be the true heir to the throne.
They break bread, the blacks and greens together, once the petition is settled. Getting along for a time, until the king is taken back to his chambers to rest. A fight breaks out between Jace, Luce and Aemond, causing Rhaenyra’s untimely departure. She intends to return alone, on dragon back, after the children are settled at home.
Y/N finds sleep that night with a renewed sense of peace, waking to anything but.
Aegon is in an odd state of dress, as if he’s thrown clothes on in the dark. Pacing at the foot of their bed; muttering to himself.
“Aegon?” The princess rubs at her eyes, hoping to make sense of it.
“My father is dead.”
Y/N sucks in a breath.
“My mother and grandsire are gathering the smallfolk for my coronation, in the dragon pit.”
“Why? Alicent herself said that my mother would make a fine Queen only hours ago.”
“In the end it was my name Viserys spoke,” Aegon whispers. “To my mother, on his deathbed.”
Oh no, gods no. Viserys wouldn’t. “What exactly did he say?”
“It matters not, my dearest love. I intend to uphold your mother’s claim.”
“How?” By taking her throne?
“I know you do not trust my family, as well you shouldn’t. You know my heart, you know what I want. They are rushing into this because they know it is wrong. I have pleaded with them, to no avail.” Aegon says. “If it is a performance they demand, so that we might seize the crown to later unfuck this line of succession, it is a performance they will have.”
Y/N nods, pressing a hand to her chest, in a desperate attempt to settle her breathing.
“We’re going to wash you up and dress you in the finest gown the realm has ever seen. Then you are going to stand at my side as they bend the knee, to try it on for size. Think of it as preparation for the day you are crowned our true queen, after your mother has ruled for a great many years.”
Again she nods.
“Are you calm enough now or do you still need me?” Aegon asks, stroking his thumb over her cheek.
“I need you.”
Stand together.
————————————————————————
In nearly two days time the realm is divided, half of them devoted to Rhaenyra’s claim, the other half to Aegon’s. After Aegon is crowned, Otto Hightower continues to play his hand.
“What are we to do?” Y/N wonders.
“My mother sent Aemond to Storm’s End. Lord Baratheon was easily swayed by the promise of Daeron’s hand for one of his daughters.”
“That is good, is it not? An ally of ours is an ally of my mother’s, in time.”
“There is more,” Aegon admits, wringing his hands.
Y/N laces their fingers together instead, “speak it.”
“I wish so badly that I did not have to tell you.”
“Please, Aegon.” She insists.
“There was an incident.”
Y/N nods, urging him to continue.
“Between Aemond…and your brother Lucerys.”
“What?” Her eyes brim with tears, as though her heart already knows.
“Lucerys was there, delivering a message from your mother. Aemond followed him, on dragon back. I do not think Aemond meant to truly harm him.” Aegon watches the lone drop of moisture cascade over her cheek. “Lucerys is dead.”
The princess’s knees buckle and she falls, with pain in her chest is so great, her lungs cannot expand.
Aegon gentles her to the floor, into his lap as she sobs so violently it shakes the pair of them. There is nothing he can say, and so he holds her, until she has no tears left.
The next weeks drag on quite the same, they pretend for their children, but Y/N struggles.
She sits the small council meeting, listening to news of Rhaenyra’s blockade and its effect on the kingdom.
The doors push open, revealing Aemond.
Y/N nearly churns. Balling her hands so tightly into fists the nails break skin.
“The key to victory is through the Riverlands.” Aemond narrates, “we need to establish a toehold there, at Harrenhal.”
Y/N pushes away from the table, trembling with the force of her rage.
Aegon reaches for her, feeling his heart sink as she backs away, with both arms wrapped around herself. Trapped beneath the watchful eyes of the council. “My darling, I did not invite him here.”
“Tis true,” Aemond confirms, “I am here of my own volition.”
There is that, at least.
“Do you have something to say, my queen?”
Y/N’s back remains to Aemond, and the strategy board, “Prince Aemond is a traitor and a murderer, who deserves to swing in the streets for what he has done. Instead he attends meetings of the small council. It is clear I hold little value to any member of this court. I will not sit here and listen to this depravity.”
“Y/N.” Aegon rises from his seat, shifting between feet, anxiously.
“I am through, my king.”
Aegon recoils as if she’s slapped him.
“Unless you are commanding me to stay,” she replies, with venom in her voice.
“Of course not, my dearest love.”
Y/N exits the double doors, moving down the hall at record speed.
Aegon twirls the council ball between his fingers to settle his racing heart. This was once his father’s seat, where his children would sit, back when all was as it should be. Now his children are not welcome and his wife would sooner abandon ship than remain at his side. “Get out.” He says to his brother.
Aemond sighs.
“Get out!” Aegon slams his fist against the table, “from now on, you will make yourself scarce amongst these halls. If you happen across my wife, you will make haste in the opposite direction, she will not be forced to look upon your face again. Do you understand?”
Aemond bows his head, “as you wish, your grace.”
Y/N retreats to her children’s rooms, finding them empty. They must be in with Helaena’s twins again. She finds the six of them in Jaehaera’s room, playing together while Helaena sews her tapestry.
“How is it coming along?” Y/N asks, taking a seat beside her.
“Quite well.”
“Glad to hear it.” Y/N taps at her wedding ring, “do you find it relaxing? Mayhaps I should take up sewing.”
“I’m afraid.” Helaena says, setting her work aside.
“Of what?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.
“The rats.”
Y/N nods, hoping to understand. “What is it about them that frightens you?”
Helaena falls silent, a far off look in her eyes.
“I could look into them.” Y/N offers, instead. “The rats.”
Helaena blinks at her. “Would you?”
“Yes, of course. Perhaps with proper knowledge of their ways you need not fear them.”
Helaena smiles, “that would be nice.”
“I will head down to the library then, once the children are abed.”
After their baths, princess Y/N brushes through each of her children’s hair in turn. Her two year old son sits in her lap first. Laenor’s hair has wave to it, like Aegon’s. She twists a bit of it around her finger.
“Mama,” the little boy begins bouncing, impatiently.
“Yes, sweet boy?”
“All done,” he tells her.
Y/N huffs a laugh, squeezing him in a hug before releasing him, “off you go then.”
Laenor giggles, bounding away happily.
“Alright, my darling girls, who is next?”
Dahlia looks to Visera, who stares back at her, exclaiming in unison, “I am!” The pair comes charging at her, landing in the small space, side by side.
“My goodness, you have gotten so big.” Y/N groans as she repositions them. Taking turns swiping the bristles through their long, silver, hair before weaving in simple braids, one down each of their backs.
“Where is father?” Dahlia wonders.
Y/N swallows, “performing his duties.”
“What about us?” Visera asks.
“Your father loves you dearly,” Y/N kisses each of their heads. “He wants nothing more than to be with you. Sometimes there are things we must do, for the sake of the crown that require us to be parted from those we love, for a short while.”
The girls nod.
“One day, when you are grown, you will understand. In the meantime, please know that his heart is with you, always. He will never be far.”
Visera and Dahlia turn, holding their mother tight.
“I will see you on the morrow.” Y/N pats their backs, watching them take to their beds.
Her youngest child is brought to her last, wrapped in a silk blanket and wailing at the top of his lungs.
Y/N stands to collect him. “Now, now, my prince, what business do you have causing all that fuss?” Y/N coos at the babe in her arms.
Aegon the fourth quiets instantly, staring up at his mother while kicking his little legs.
“That’s what I thought.” Y/N remarks, sitting down in the arm chair to rock him to sleep. “You are so loved, my darling.” She strokes his dark hair and his tired eyes begin to close, “sweet dreams.”
With the prince safely abed, Y/N leaves the children in the care of their guards and maids, to see what books they might have about rats in the library. The selection is limited, of course, so she decides on a bound copy recounting the great plague. Its pages contain great detail about the little critters and their lives.
She finds herself more engrossed in it than she could have anticipated. The princess hardly hears her husband enter their rooms.
“What story is that now, my dearest love?” He asks, shucking off his boots.
“It’s a book about the plague.”
Part 5
Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago @kaysav608 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @wolflover384 @jaydemon99 @minttea07 @lightdragonrayne @baybaybear1
2K notes
·
View notes
The Boy // Aemond x Reader
Summary: Blood and Cheese are out looking for a son. A son for a son, they were told. They found you and your babe, instead. How lucky they are that your babe is a boy.
INFANTICIDE!!! DEAD DOVE; DO NOT EAT
TW: infanticide, killing of a child, graphic violence, guilt, daggers, beheading, blood, gore
“I think we should listen to Helaena more,” you told your dear uncle and husband, Aemond. “I do not know what she meant by the rats but she is correct that we should be worried about more than just dragons.”
“My dear wife,” Aemond adjusted their son, Aerion, in his hands, “we have no reason to fear them. They wouldn't dare attack us.”
Aeron cooed in Aemond's arms and nestled against him.
“Our son will be safe; Helaena’s children will be safe.”
“I simply worry that my brother might do something rash to avenge Lucerys,” you tread delicately, knowing the subject of your dead brother was a touchy subject.
“If it is Jacerys who will come to us I will not hesitate, wife. I hope you know that.”
“I am aware that you would do all you can to protect us, and I love you for that. Still, I worry.” You went to gather Aerion from Aemond’s arms and held the babe close to your heart. “Should anything happen to our child, any of the children here, I do not know what I would do. I would lose myself in grief, I think.”
“If you lose yourself to grief then I will be here to bring you back.” Aemond pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Aerion looked at you with wide violet eyes. You chuckled. “He has the same intense stare as youz my husband.”
Aemond leaned forward to get a better look at his son. “I'll take your word for it,” he smiled. “Shall we go to bed?”
“Let me put Aerion down and then I shall join you.” You pressed your lips against Aemond’s before he left the nursery to head to your bedchambers.
Aerion, with his wide violet eyes, reached up and tugged a bit on your hair.
“My darling, you are going to be a handful when you become a man,” you laughed.
Aerion smiled, tugging on her hair again and lightly smacking her, like all babes do.
“Once you can control your arms I am sure you will make a fearsome warrior. But now,” you walked to his crib, “it is time to sleep, dear one.” Before lowering Aerion into his crib you kissed him lovingly on the forehead. “Sleep well, my dear boy.”
You left the nursery to join your husband in your bedchambers, tired from the day. As you walked away you could hear his babblings. You smiled to yourself, ready to hear it again come morning.
Right before you entered your bedchambers you heard rushed footsteps. Confused, you followed the sound. No one should still be awake at this point. Maybe a few servants finishing up their duties but that should be it. There was the possibility of the noise being from Aegon, as well. He did wander about the castle at night every now and then. Then you heard the voices.
“Are you sure it's this one?” One male voice asked.
A deeper voice replied, “do you see any other son? We have to take one and we can't find Prince Aemond.”
You sucked in a breath. These were no servants. No, they were assassins, most likely sent by your mother to even the score. You were left with a choice, take a chance to save your son, or run to alert a guard.
“Let's take this one, then,” said the first voice.
Their footsteps slowed as they snuck up on the crib. Dread dripped down your body. They were not going to take your son.
“Step away from my boy!” You yelled as you burst into the nursery.
There were two men, one scrawny with a mustache, and the other one built with muscle welding two daggers.
Covering the crib with your own body you faced the assailants. “You will leave this place. I will give you money, my jewelry, if it means you will leave.”
The scrawny one strolled up to you as though he had all the time in the world. “And if we don't take your offer?”
You swallowed. “Then I will have no choice but to call the guards.” You took a few steps back.
The big man boomed out a laugh. “Guards? There's no one here to guard you. How do you think we got in? We simply walked through the door. There are none and you are at our mercy.” A sadistic smile crept its way on his face. “Grab her,” he ordered the small one.
He charged you, grabbing your arms and twisting them behind your back. He tried to get you away from the crib but you held your ground. As terrified as you were, your instincts told you to stay with the babe as long as possible.
The big one sauntered up to you and ran the tip of the dagger down your neck. The sting of the blade was sharp against your skin. Blood pebbled out of the cut. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racing. You were going to die here.
“You look very pretty with this red adorning your neck. Maybe we should add more?”
He pressed the dagger against your collar bone, the metal cutting you. You wanted to scream for help but you needed their attention away from Aerion. If it meant that they take your life instead of his, then so be it.
Blood dripped down, staining your night dress. The big one leaned down and licked one of the wounds clean. The sensation was so horrible that you almost threw up. Tears brimmed in the corner of your eyes.
“Decadent,” he growled.
The skinny one holding you was getting impatient. “Are we going to take one of them or not?”
“Patience! Let me enjoy myself here.” He looked over you like a meal ready to be devoured. “Would you sacrifice yourself? Shall we take your head?”
“If it means my boy is safe then yes, take my head,” you tried to sound confident.
“You choose your own demise over your child’s? How sweet a mother’s love is.”
He looked over the crib at Aerion. Aerion had still not fallen asleep, he was wiggling in his blankets. But when the man made eye contact with him, he started screaming. The big man smacked a hand over your son’s mouth. Aerion whimpered and struggled against him.
You shook your head. “Please, no. Not my son. Take me. Take my head instead,” you begged.
The little man snickered. “A son for a son we was told. Unless you want to tell us where Prince Aemond is.”
No. Not a choice. Your son or your husband. You can kill your boy or send them to your sweet husband sleeping in his bed. You began to weep.
“You can't make me choose between my husband and my son!” You cried.
The men laughed coldly.
“Look what we have here, huh? The wife of the fearsome Aemond Targaryen! What a way to break his spirits,” the skinny one cackled.
Your son or your husband. The love of your life or the light of your life. Your Aemond or your Aerion. Memories flashed before you.
Meeting Aemond and slowly falling in love with him.
The first time you and Aemond made love, the conception of Aerion, you two have figured. How lovely it was. Aemond filled you up so perfectly, you have never felt closer to him than that. When he kissed you down there, all you felt was pleasure. When you took his cock into your mouth you were proud of yourself for making Aemond feel good.
Giving birth to Aerion and feeling the grip of Aemond’s hand holding yours. There was so much pain but Aemond was there to help you. Many advised Aemond to not be in the room for the birthing process but you insisted he be there. Continually, he wiped the sweat from your brow and whispered encouraging words in your ear.
The day Aerion rolled over for the first time. Oh, how quickly you leapt up to find Aemond. He was amused by your happiness and humored you. While he may not have understood how big of a milestone this was, you know he felt great pride. Aerion was just now beginning to toddle about. His smile was always big and he was always looking at the world around him.
With a shaking body and a painful stab in your heart you nodded towards Aerion. You have made your decision and will live in hell the rest of your life for it. Forever you will remember this and how you sentenced your child to death. “Take him. Take my child,” you whispered.
“Lovely,” the big one said.
With one quick moment, he took one of his daggers and sliced a cut into Aerion’s throat. All you could hear was the gargle of Aerion choking on his own blood. You wanted to look away but you forced yourself to watch. You did this. You killed your own child.
Then the big man began to saw back and forth. No longer was your boy crying, but there he lay, still alive as his head was being detached from his body.
“Aerion, my dear Aerion, I am so sorry,” you mumbled.
“Remember, this was your choice,” the one holding you said. He tightened his grip on your arms and kneed you in the back. “Look at what you did.”
They were almost halfway through your boy's little neck. Tears trailed down your face. Forever you would remember this grave sin. This impossible choice.
After what felt like months, they finally finished. The big one grinned as he held the head of Aerion. The base of his head was dripping with blood. His violet eyes, once filled with wonder, were empty.
“Prince Daemon appreciates your service to the true Queen.” He motioned to the one holding you to let go. “Would you like to touch his face one last time?”
They were mocking you. Yet you were grateful for the chance to cradle your boy’s cheek one last time.
“Aerion, I am so sorry.” You cupped his face and stared into those dead eyes.
There was rustling in the hallway.
“We gotta go,” the little one ground out.
The big one spat in your face. “Fuck the Hightowers.”
They stuffed your boy’s head in a sack and ran away, leaving you with a bleeding body and a broken heart.
Lifelessly, you walked out of the nursery and to Helaena’s bedchambers. She would understand. She would help.
------
When you arrived at her door you knocked. When she didn't answer, you pounded. When nothing came you burst through the door and collapsed next to her on the bed.
“Helaena, wake up please,” you sobbed. You were shaking her awake.
Helaena’s eyes opened slowly. You thought that you’d surprise her with your presence but instead she looked sad. She sat up in bed and reached for your hand. Helaena rarely engages in physical contact so this startled you. You almost pulled away but she held on tight.
“Your boy. They killed him?” Helaena asked.
“You - you knew they would come?” You were stunned.
“I knew the rats would come but I did not know for whom. Only that one of the boys in this castle would perish.” She looked regretful. “I wish we could’ve done something.”
You leaned into her and began to cry the tears you’ve been keeping in. “They made me choose, sister. Aerion or Aemond. I feel disgusting.”
Helaena shuffled away, uncomfortable with so much physical contact, but she kept a hand on yours. She gave you a squeeze. “Go to him. Go to my brother.”
“Yes, Helaena.” You squeezed her hand back and left her bedchambers.
------
As you approached your shared bedchambers your heart began to speed up. Invisible ropes tied around your chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. You carefully opened to door to see your husband peacefully laying down on the bed with his eye closed. His breathing had not yet calmed to a slower pattern so you knew he was still awake. The sapphire gleamed brightly in the moonlight. You caught a hint of a smile. He knew you were here.
“You’ve been gone for a while, my dear.” Aemond opened his eye. “I was beginning to worry.” He caught sight of your red-lined eyes and tear stained cheeks. Immediately, he sat up.
“My love. My love, my love,” you collapsed at the foot of the bed. Fresh tears ran down your face. “I have committed a grave sin. I am so sorry. If you want me dead I will throw myself out of the nearest window.” You buried your face in your hands.
Aemond climbed out of bed and held your face. “Whatever sin you committed, I am sure you are still pure in the eyes of the Seven.”
You began to hyperventilate.
“Breathe, my love, breathe,” he whispered in your ear.
After a few moments of trying to find your breath again, you forced yourself to look at him. “He’s dead. Our boy, our Aerion.”
He did not respond for a few moments. “Surely you jest, my love.”
“No! I do not jest!” you pushed yourself away from Aemond and stood up. “Our boy is *dead because of me! They came from the dark and made me choose!” You fell back on your knees but faced away from Aemond. “They told me to choose between you and Aerion.”
“What?”
“These men, these dark men, made me choose between your death and Aerion’s! I offered my own head instead but they merely laughed.”
“You offered yourself?”
“What else could I have done, Aemond?”
Strong hands grabbed your waist and turned you around.
“You could have come to me,” he said as he held you tight.
“If I had left they would have killed Aerion anyway.” Your arms wrapped around him and you buried your head against his chest.
“If that is the case then Aerion was going to die even without your choice.”
You let out a sob.
“But,” he gently tilted your face up to his. “You let him live a little longer. You gave him some time.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now tell me who these men are, or what they looked like.”
“One was a skinny rat catcher, I believe, and the other was a bigger man, he looked like he could be a guard.” You swallowed. “They took our boy's head.”
Aemond nodded. “I will find these wretched men tonight.” His face hardened as he got up and released you. “Stay in bed, my love.”
“Will you take me to Helaena instead? I do not wish to be alone.”
“Of course. That’s a better idea. Quickly, we must go.”
Aemond escorted you back to Helaena’s bedchambers. He did not look at you but he held on to your hand tightly. As you approached the door he pulled you into a searing kiss, a kiss with a promise to find these bad men. Then he was gone.
------
When morning came, you found yourself on a chaise in Helaena’s chambers. Looking around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Helaena was snoring softly in her bed and everything was fine.
Then you remembered last night.
Your chest began to tighten as your body began to quake. Stray tears rolled down your face until they became streams. Helaena walked up to you in silence and held your hand.
“The rats are no more,” she said to you.
“No more no longer and yet they still cause such pain,” you whispered to her. Your body began to tremble.
“Hush, dear sister. Aemond comes.”
The door opened soon after and Aemond strode in with Aegon by his side.
“Niece,” Aegon nodded towards you. “I had them hanged,” he said gleefully. “Both men had been found. The guard easily gave up the rat catcher. You can see them outside now if you’d wish.”
“No, no, I do not wish to see the men who killed my boy.”
Aemond came to your side and took your other hand. “They are gone, my love, and our Aerion is at peace. The Silent Sisters have retrieved his head and are readying him for burial. One last journey, with you and me right by his side.”
“He shall go to the dragon pit?”
“Yes, and Vhagar will do the honors.”
You turned to Aegon. “Thank you for aiding Aemond in finding the murderers.”
“Of course, dear niece. This was the pretending Queen’s doing and I will not let them go unpunished.”
You gave him a watery smile. “My mother will not get away with this. For killing my babe she will burn.”
Aemond pulled you away from Helaena and into his arms. “For Aerion, she will burn.”
“For Aerion.”
580 notes
·
View notes