𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 | aemond targaryen

𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. debilitating life, debilitating death

❝no grave can hold my body down,

I'll crawl home to her❞

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The storm had calmed hours ago, rain freezing on windowsills in the winter air as though the Starks were right. As though winter was truly coming. 

Visenya wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. The sky was dark now but that did not stop her violet eyes from scouring the darkness from the hulking form of Vhagar and her rider from the west.

Visenya had never been particularly religious. Alicent had found comfort in religion in the dark days of the crown, where the world seemed just as likely to topple off its axis rather than there be any true stability in the line of inheritance. But Visenya had never thought it wise to put faith into something she could not control.

But now, pressing the cold skin of her palm against her silk covered stomach, she prayed.

"Māzigon arlī naejot nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon." Visenya whispered to herself, voice weaker than she wished it was. "Māzigon arlī naejot īlva." [ come back to me, my love. come back to us. ]

Alys was right as she always was. All those years as a milkmaid for nobility, the rivers witch was able to spot a woman with child from a mile away. Even before the woman could herself. This had also been true for Visenya who had blamed her nausea on the anxiety caused by attempting to reclaim a throne.

And yet with her and her husbands track record? She should have known.

Visenya Targaryen was once again with child, but she could not blame the knot of anxiety that curled in her chest on the child in her stomach. 

Blood is spilled at thunders close, blood of kin but blood of foe.

The words still echoed through her mind, now less of a warning and more like a hymn sung at the funeral of someone you knew too well. The ache of grief already welling in the back of her throat. But who for?

"You should not be out in the cold, tala." Her father's voice called from the entryway behind her but Visenya did not turn to greet him. [ daughter ]

"He should've already returned." Visenya said, her voice calm like the ocean before it swallowed a ship whole. She heard Daemon's heavy footfalls approach her and she could not stop herself from being reminded of a death march.

What was it about new life that brought to mind the end of so many?

"As much as part of me hates to say it but your one eyed husband will return, tala." Daemon said, his own face tilted up to the sky. At his words, so sure and steady as they were spoken, Visenya cocked her head to face him.

"How can you be so sure?" She asked, her voice less curious and more wistful as she voiced the question. Daemon merely smirked softly as he turned to his daughter, a droll look in his eyes.

"Because I think the boy knows even the stranger wouldn't be able to keep him from you." 

At his words Visenya let out a small laugh, a kindness she granted to herself in that moment. She had only felt a sort of debilitating grief that whole day as though she was mourning the living and not the dead. She feared should she laugh she would cry and the tears would never stop.

"The day the stranger fucks with my family is the day death learns to fear the living." Visenya said and at that Daemon chuckled.

"Ao drējī issi ñuha tala." He said, watching as a cloud obscured the moon above. [ you truly are my daughter. ]