Blood of Old Valryia (Aemond Targaryen FF)

Chapter Twenty Seven

They stayed at the Inn for eight days.

Aesira's red flower had bloomed on the fifth day, which had dampened her spirits but not Aemond's. He'd seen it as an opportunity to live up to the oaths he'd sworn. He hadn't shown an ounce of disgust, even when she bled through her night clothes and onto the bedding. He'd kept her fed, kept her warm, and kept her clean. And when her belly ached, he'd rubbed gently until the pain subsided.

It had been Aemond's idea to stay the additional three days, to give her the strength for the ride back to the Keep, and when the time came, he still didn't think enough time had passed.

This gentle side of Aemond surprised Aesira the most. She didn't think a man as callous and cool as he was capable of it. But somewhere between the belly rubs, and the soft humming, Aesira realised being callous and cool had been the only way he could protect himself. It had been his shield between the bullying, the insults, the taunting, the fear surrounding the rumours of Rhaenyra one day killing him and his brothers, the Queen's emotional crutch and so many things that she hadn't yet considered.

Aemond was cold because he had to be because he had to defend himself, because it was the only way he could survive his own childhood.

She tried not to let it change the way she saw him, but she couldn't. Even as the horses trotted through the cobblestone streets of King's Landing, she knew she respected him more, loved him more, and understand that this made him dangerous. Aesira watched as Aemond readjusted his hood, cloaking his features to avoid being identified until he was close enough to the Keep. Aesira knew her own hood was still in place, not that it mattered.

"I still think I should go with you." Aemond sighed under his breath.

"It would only rouse unwanted suspicion. Go to the Red Keep, and lunch with your grandsire. I will see you at nightfall." She promised.

They reached the fork in the street, where their paths would diverge—for the day at least—and Aemond hesitated. Aesira usually had an escort to the Sept and though he trusted that no one would dare harm a hair on her head, out of fear or adoration, it still left an uneasy feeling in his belly to send her on her way alone.

"You have the dagger?" He asked, guiding his stallion to walk slowly around Aesira, deciding whether he should escort her anyway and damn what anyone thought or reported.

"Yes." She rolled her eyes, half-giggling. Aside from their tumbles in the sheets, talking, eating sweets in bed, and just enjoying each other, Aemond had taken it upon himself to also teach her some of the basics around using the dagger he'd given her as a wedding gift. She was nowhere near as skilled as he, but she wasn't entirely useless.

Aemond nodded once, understanding that if he robbed her of the agency of moving about the city without him, she might never forgive him, "I'll come to see you on your return to the Keep then. I haven't seen you in eight days."

That would be the lie. He'd been gone for eight days and she'd been at the dragonpit all day, every day. As long as Alis had kept up the lie on her end, there should be no surprises waiting for either of them.

Aemond steered his horse towards the Keep while Aesira urged hers towards the Sept. Though the eight days had been filled with blissful happiness, it had also been the longest she'd gone without seeing her dragon. She doubted a dragon could noticeably change in such a short period of time, but it had still been over a week.

As the horse strode up to the steps, an acolyte of the Faith hopped towards her. The girl was young, covered from head to toe, and naive enough to still wear a dreamy smile. Aesira had meant to go to the dragon gate, but the detour added time she wasn't in the mood to give.