Salvation - Aemond Targaryen / Aegon Targaryen

Sharing

Of all the ways Aemond thought Jeyne would arrive to him, on the back of his elder brother's dragon surely did not top the list.

Yet he sat on the north facing stone, eye bighting away the sleep that begged to come and felt the unmistakable swell of air around him as the gaudy, golden dragon landed perfectly well on the flat, solid earth before him.

Jeyne was there. She looked stunning, making his heart flutter. Her long red curls were wild with the black hood of her cloak cupping them at the base of her neck. Her pale cheeks were wind bitten and red, licking her dry lips that Aemond was all too familiar with. Her small hands were wrapped around the golden horn at the front of the saddle, legs parted over either side of the saddle. She had her pretty head thrown back, laughing boisterously as his damned brother jested something inaudibly.

Aegon's hands were wrapped bare around the reins of his beast, pulling at Sunfyre's head so that he would cease his movement and allow them to dismount. Aemond's hand curled into a fist, his lips pursing angrily.

Aegon was touching his wife, pressed against her ass and her back pressed against his chest as he took her riding. Her first-time on dragon-back. It was his by right, his to give to her. And Aegon had taken it from him.

His anger was quenched only by worry as his lady wife dismounted, the fabric of her dress coated in thick red blood.

He stood. "Jeyne?" he questioned, standing and making his way to assist her from her dismount. His lady wife dismounted into his arms, foot kicking from the rope ladder on the male-dragon's torso as she fell into him with a giggle. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright." She promised him, her hand resting on Sunfyre's side as she planted her feet on the ground.

Aemond's hands rested on her waist. "Did he hurt you?" His eye searched her face, searched for an answer. "Jeyne, I swear I will kill him—"

"Calm yourself, brother." Aegon called from above, throwing his legs to the opposite side. He tumbled to the ground, ducking his mount's neck to face them.

Aemond tightened his grip on her hips. "Then why, brother," he challenged. "Did she arrive covered in blood?"

"He saved me, my prince." Jeyne's delicate hand rose to rest calmingly on his bicep. He softened, turning his eye to her. She gave him that pretty smile—Pink lips turned upward and brown eyes wide with adoration—his grip loosened. Jeyne's gaze turned to Aegon, mouth closing.

His bastard brother nodded his head, a blush twinging his cheeks. Aemond searched his face. "Did he now?"

"Sunfyre had a light feast, I declare." Aegon threw his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. Aemond's brows furrowed. "A criminal or two within the woods."

"You fed your beast the flesh of men?"

"The flesh of would-be rapists, brother." Aegon corrected, holding his index finger out approvingly.

Aemond's anger piqued. Before he thought to reply, he turned to look at her more closely. Her face was unhurt, unblemished by the savages that roamed the kingswood. It couldn't be so, he thought. I had taken that trek just hours before. There were no encampments, no soul living in the woods between the Blackwater Bridge and the Wendwater.

If it had not been for the sudden fear to overtake her brown orbs, he would have called his brother a liar. But Jeyne's hand went to cover his own at her jaw, delicate fingers brushing over him. "I am alright, my love." Jeyne whispered, brows turning downward.