The Dragon in the North - Aemond Targaryen

13.

Vyara

I wake feeling even worse than usual and realise I'm hungover for the first time in years. As I stretch and moan awake my servants come into my room.

"My lady, a potion has been sent for you from Prince Aemond, and a note."

He is unbelievable, I've not even formed my first thought of the day! I can't tell if I'm really enjoying the attention from him or it's annoying me, I think it's both.

I rip open the note.

Vyara,

I would appreciate your opinion on something today. Come to my rooms whenever you feel like it.

I hope you aren't too hungover; I've told the Maester to send you a potion to help.

Best regards,

Aemond

I take a deep breath; his intensity is stressing me out. What opinion could he possibly need from me? I'm supposed to be trying to avoid him. What can he want with me today?

I take the potion tentatively and sip it, it tastes of ginger and apples, I drink it willingly, hoping it does help as I feel like shit.

I relive the memories from last night and don't think I made any big mistakes, aside from engaging with Aemond. You're stunning, Vyara.

Butterflies loop around my stomach. My head is such a mess and I can't think straight. My mind then goes straight to Eddard and the butterflies feel like they've died in a heap in the pit of my stomach. I'm so confused.

Intrusive thoughts start entering my brain, Kinslayer.

I put my head in my hands and breathe. My servants come back in and I snap back to myself. They have another small breakfast that I don't want to eat but I'm desperate to see Azar so I force myself to eat some strange looking berries. Thankfully they taste delightful, but I can't enjoy them.

I need to get Aemond to stop. Some of the feelings I've had make me extremely uncomfortable. What does he want with me anyway? I can only see this going one way and that's more pain for me and I won't risk it. I can't possibly cope with anymore hurt.

I go down a dangerous road to remind myself. I start thinking about my mother, my father, my husband, my brother. I feel the pain in my chest and feel it getting tighter. My thoughts are coming in thick and fast, my mother's funeral, me ordering Azar to burn her and the dead babes body, the pain my father went through, his death, my screams when my husband died, I imagine my brother's execution, I can't help it. I start panting and grip my chest, I can't breathe.

I run to my bathroom and take my knife, slicing myself five times, ten times, fifteen times, twenty times, twenty-five times. I'm covered in blood. I watch it pool on my hands and I can breathe again.

No more Aemond Targaryen, I will tell him today that I'm unwell and I need to return to the North as soon as possible.

Once I'm sane again, I dress plainly and make my way down to his apartments, using a different persona. I will be cold to Aemond, and hopefully he will get the point that I'm not interested in being his friend, or whatever else he might want from me.

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Aemond

Aemond wakes up later than usual, finally managing to get a decent sleep after a night of drinking, but his head aches and he sends for a Maester to make a potion to help with the hangover.

He thinks of Vyara instantly. He knows now what he needs to do with Eddard. He wants to make sure Vyara is as happy as she can be. He can't kid himself into thinking because she acts fine in company that she is. He saw her pinch herself when they rode Vhagar, he saw her hand go to the cuts on her arm. Servants told him that she tried to eat yesterday but she only managed three pieces of fruit and that she's trying to cut down on the milk of the poppy but she's still taking a dose that could kill her over time. They also reported that her arms are still covered in cuts from shoulder to wrist.