𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐧| A.Targaryen

𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙.

That night could only be described as dreadful, thought Aemond.

Dreadful and utterly a waste of his time.

He cursed everything living and dead. He swore the ground beneath his feet and the dark skies above his silver crown. Gods be good to any man or maiden who stumbled upon him in this mood. He was neither fit for confrontation nor stable enough to not burn everything in his wake.

'Mother's perfect son.' His brother taunted. Many more times than he would like to admit. And each time resulted in either violence or silence. Perfect. The word tasted like vermin in his fucking mouth.

Alicent wanted perfect. She wanted the perfect life in the perfect realm with the most perfect children. Unfortunately for his mother, a walking corpse of a husband, a divided horror of a realm, a whore of a stepdaughter/former best mate, a raping son, a scared daughter, a bruised son, and a son miles away from her seemed like a story told to naughty children to scar them.

The gods really dealt his mother the finest set of the pack.

A bruised son, he wanted to laugh. Hilarious. And Aegon dared to call him perfect. If Aemond had his way, he'd destroy every looking mirror in the seven kingdoms and beyond.

A mindless drunk stumbled and bumped into Aemond. This caused both to stop and stare at each other. Aemond was lying if he said he did not sneer, and the drunk did not nearly shit himself at the sight of the one-eyed prince. Apologies spurred out of his mouth, with a mixture of a burp and a hiccup before the man stumbled away. Aemond only felt his annoyance grow stronger. He turned and continued his hunt.

He hated everything about the depths of King's Landing, this specific road. Nothing good ever came out of these shadows and lust-filled rooms. Moans of pleasure and groans of pain surrounded his space and his skin itched from the uncomfortable noises. He kept his head down and side-stepped to avoid bumping into a half-naked woman. He was well aware of her wondering hands as he passed.

He prayed to the seven, for forgiveness and guidance. Forgiveness for a sin he was unaware of and guidance to escape this wretched place. Coming to stop at a familiar door he let out a breath. Patience, he needed patience and nothing else.

It took three knocks before the door slid open and Aemond pushed himself inside. The woman behind the door giggled at the sight of the arrogant handsome prince. "Back so soon?"

Aemond said nothing. His nose was attacked by the sweet scent of vanilla mixed with the stink of sweat and other bodily fluids. He would gag if he wasn't used to it by now. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed how packed the place was, unfamiliar faces floated before him and he suddenly more alienated. He hated how familiar the setting was to him. How many times he had ventured into this black hole of dread and how many times he had scrubbed his skin raw the next day.

"where is he?" he asked. He felt fingertips trail across his back before the sultry woman came to stand in front of him. Her mismatched green and brown eyes stared at his scarred face, begging to be looked at as well. But Aemond kept his gaze plastered on the brown-stained walls. Filth.