Camilla Strong has the curse of Harrenhal inside her.
As the youngest sibling of Harwin Strong, Camilla has always been a sweet but strange girl. It made sense for her to befriend Helaena Targaryen. But no one could have foreseen the terror her bro...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Camilla did not remember ending up in the lower corridors of the castle.
But there she awoke, a welt on her temple the size of a dinner dish. It throbbed like a heartbeat.
Her memory remained a problem since infancy. She forgot the alphabet, her own name, and how to return to her quarters, just to name a few. The deaths of Father and Harwin only exacerbated things.
Camilla lifted herself from the bottom of the stone steps. The logical thing to do would be to return upstairs and hopefully find a guard with a gold cloak. But the smell of pastries and fresh bread guided her feet further away from safety.
With one hand splayed against the wall and the other rubbing the bump on her scalp, she stumbled her way inside the lit kitchen down the hall. Her stomach ached in a starved way; did she forget to eat again? She remembered studying with her brother before he sent her off for embroidery, a trip that frequently included Harwin by her side. Camilla's memories faded to black after leaving Larys this morning.
She did not care about being caught. Her memory remained a convenience. When Father was alive, no one ever punished the Hand of the King's daughter. And now with Larys, people feared him. Camilla did not fully understand why. Only she ever saw his foot without the boot and wrappings. What about the man made people uneasy?
"People fear me too, I think," she told him one day.
"People fear the unknown, Camilla, and they fear those who hold knowledge. Do not concern yourself with their thoughts."
Larys was the smartest man she knew,and she tried taking his words to heart, but she could never shake the bitter recoil of people's eyes on her. Camilla did not know any different, so why did she care about what others thought? They treated Helaena in similar ways. But, as a princess, wary eyes had a better chance of being snatched than when Camilla was concerned.
Fear of people, fear of losing Larys and Aemond, fear of dying while having one of her episodes, pressures to become a Lady, pressures to take a suitable husband, pressures to not embarrass her house. Camilla felt like she was tied to a wheel that constantly turned ever faster away from sanity.
Her body suddenly stiffened, locking in place.
No, please. Not again.
Camilla went to her safe place: Aemond.
His freckled face and soft features. The grip of his fingers holding a sword or fork. His smell of mint and fruit. The feeling of his leg against hers under the dinner table. The respectful glint in his round eyes when she entered the room.
She cracked her jaw with a deep sigh. Her grip on the edge of the table lessened as she felt the episode slowly fade back inside her. "Thank you," she whispered, unable to stop the tears from forming in her eyes.
Camilla stuffed her face first with the hot bread. Rolls big as her head lined the table. The pastries and cakes were somewhere and she would find them. She opened cabinets and drawers. Scoured under the table. The last place was the pantry.
Rows of vanilla and strawberry cakes and chocolates sat, waiting to be brought upstairs. Camilla sat in the corner with one of each, taking a bite of each. But she stopped upon hearing a sound.
A painful moan echoed in the silence. Then a shuffling of clothes and the squeaking of wood. With the corners of her mouth stained with vanilla frosting, Camilla followed the sounds. The moans, of a man, became louder, along with his ragged breathing.
Two shadowy figures appeared behind shelves in the pantry, opposite Camilla. She needed to duck to the floor to better see.
Between rows of mason jars and ceramic bowls on the beams of wood, Prince Aegon leaned against the wall. Eyes closed, another moan left his mouth. A woman, one of the young serving girls, sat on her knees in front of him. Her head bobbed back and forth, her head level with his waist.
Camilla leaned closer, to the point her cheek pressed against the shelves. What were they doing? Was he in pain and she was helping him? No, that's stupid. If Prince Aegon were in pain he'd of called a maester. Unless this just happened and he had no time to call someone? This serving girl's kindness turned Camilla's stomach.
She recognized the feeling, unfortunately, as jealousy. She used to feel it when Harwin paid more attention to his sons than her. But why now over the prince? Camilla never felt a thing toward the eldest son of the king.
A wet pop broke her thoughts. The sound reminded Camilla of when she sucked on stolen hard candies from the table after dinner.
"Did I tell you to stop?" the Prince asked, breathless. Neither Camilla or the girl had time to grasp his words. He tightened his hand at the back of her head, hair wrapped around his fingers like a messy braid, and pushed her into him again. "Fuck..."
Camilla pressed harder, eyes remained unblinking at the young prince. His open mouth and closed eyes, in particular. He was not in pain...but in pleasure.
"Hey!"
The hand that seized her arm forced Camilla to drop her half-eaten cake. She reeled back but knocked into the shelves. The sound forced Prince Aegon and the girl to stop. The girl stood and screamed as the shelf separating them fall forward. Glass and broken wood splintered and exploded around them. In the panic, Aegon fixed his pants and shoved the girl away.
"Can I fucking help you?" he asked the guard as the goldcloak struggled to hold on to Camilla. Her thrashing resembled a five-year-old's temper tantrum. She neared a meltdown.
"M-my Prince, I apologize. I was sent to find Lady Strong when the Queen also asked for you...the celebration is nearly over."
Aemond's birthday. He did not forget.
Aegon's throat clenched, and any lust melted away. Camilla being here did not help things. How long was she watching? This was not the way he wanted to get her attention...but it certainly helped. Her flushed cheeks were not a complete result of the guard grabbing her. A delicious thought entered his mind...
He would walk with them back into the dining hall and revel in the heartbreak Aemond was sure to have at Aegon and Camilla walking in together. Both in places they should not have been in. Doing things they should not be doing.
He pushed himself forward and carefully swiped away the glass and wood with his boot. "Of course. It's not every day my little brother turns ten and three." Aegon led them out of the pantry, a terrible grin smeared across his lips.
Author's Note:
Aemond remains my favorite son. While this will be a poly romance, I think the focus will be on him... For now, at least. This story won't be as strict as my other two. I have everything planned for those. I have no clue where I want to take this and I think the next season will clear up a lot of what I wanna do.
