DARKSIDE // Aemond Targaryen

EIGHT

TRIGGER WARNING – PTSD

I watch the fire go out and sigh in relief when I realise Visenya is finally asleep, meaning I can rest too. Tonight was very emotional. I had not expected such a strong woman to cry or cower as she did tonight. Seeing how she had stripped herself into almost like a trained whore on the Streets of Silk made my heart ache. Within the four days she had been here, someone within the walls of the Red Keep had managed to defile her so severely that she was now some whore for them to use–it made my blood boil.

She had expected me to defile her body like some common lord would claim a woman's first night. I was not just some lord; I was the One-Eyed Prince, as people liked to call me. A ruthless man, but I was not a rapist. Sure Visenya's virtue was mine to claim, but that did not give me the right to treat her like a whore, or watch her strip down like one.

Watching her try and remove her undergarments made me feel sick to my stomach. I thought tonight we would sit and talk by the fire, arranging the rules of our marriage before we even thought about sex. I had expected her to sit near the fire with me and talk to me about what she had wanted, but no, someone had stripped her down to her bones.

When I saw servants bringing Moon Tea to her room daily, I had presumed she had taken on a whore of her own, keeping herself satisfied while being able to perform her duty to me. It had made me angry to think another man had stolen her heart and body from me. Why? I could not tell. I hate looking upon her face, reminded of the reason why I now am short an eye. All the hatred for Rhaenyra and her family still lingered within my heart, but every day I saw Visenya, it began to melt away.

I thought maybe avoiding her would bring me some form of relief and that this anger towards her and her whore would disappear, but it only grew stronger. I had told her on the first night she was the bane of my existence, but now that I begin to think about it more deeply, she was starting to look like the object of all my desires.

I turned towards my bed, where the princess now slept soundly–I suppose it was time for me to rest as well. I stand and prepare for bed, dressing in my sleep pants and removing my shirt. I quietly approached the bed so as not to wake the sleeping girl, who now wore my clothes, and I would maintain a distance between us while we slept.

I pull back the blanket of my bed and slip into bed carefully. Visenya stirs for a second, and I freeze; once she has settled, I remove my eye patch and turn to look at her sleeping frame. She had not grown much in height since I last saw her, but her body had filled out, with curves in every right place.

My mind wanders back to her naked body standing in front of me. She had been so skittish a moment before, but she had let me undress and then dress her without hesitation. The marks left on her body by the man abusing her made my blood boil; such delicate skin was now permanently destroyed by such a vile man.

I hear Visenya mumble under her breath and begin to panic. Did I wake her? Did she want me to leave? Have I upset her without knowing? I watch as she rolls over to face me, her body now so close to mine. I hold my breath, waiting for her to start yelling and screaming at me–that does not come.

"Aemond," Visenya mumbles, her words now more coherent. My eyes widen as she whispers my name again, followed by the word 'please.'

"Visenya?" I whisper, moving closer to her, "are you okay?"

Giving me no time to react, Visenya wraps one of her arms around me and pulls me in tightly. I hold my breath and watch as a small smile creeps onto her lips, fuck. She has me trapped in her arms now; I cannot move. Her delicate fingers brush against my bare chest, and her cheek lays against my arm.

I watch her peacefully sleeping and smile myself. The scent of flowers, fire, and the sea filled my nose and seeing her eyes move as she rested brought me some ease. I closed my eye and finally decided to sleep, but it was not long before Visenya began to stir in my arms.