Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Dread

Chapter Sixty-Five~ Dread

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Aemond had received no news for days from Kingslanding.

Not a raven from his mother.

Not a rider from his Grandfather.

Not a Dream from his wife.

He knew something had to be wrong. There was no doubt in his mind. It was slowly driving him mad, not knowing whether his family was safe. He needed Rhaella, to hold her in his arms and ensure not a single silver hair on her head was harmed.

Larys Strong had not yet arrived, there were a number of reasons that could've been, had the dark times been different. But they were not and Aemond could only assume that he had either strayed from his path to Harrenhall, and followed a path of betrayal toward Dragonstone.

Cole had said it was a trap, that he would return to the Redkeep to ensure the safety of the king. But that was five nights ago.

He needed to regroup, reevaluate his plans. He needed Criston Cole to fucking hurry up back to Kingslanding, so that he had an Army at hand.

But for now he had to wait, sitting patiently, fingers tapping on the spout of his cup of wine. His thoughts drifted to Rhaella as he watched the flames lick at the burning wood of the heath in front of him. She was smart. If anything had happened back home, she would survive it. He needed her tone.

Without her what was all of this worth? If she was not there to see it, by his side, what was it worth? If he did not have her with him.

The pattern on his wine cup bedded into his palm, his grip ever tightening around the metal. The shade beneath the skin on his knuckle was almost as white as his hair.

"Your grace." A boy, young and scared came bursting through the door, gripping a letter in his hand. When Aemond looked closer at the boys face, there was a mix of dried blood and dried mud painted on his skin.

"What is it?' Aemond demanded, pushing from his chair.

"Your Forces, your grace," The boy breathed. "They engage in battle as we speak, Rhaynera Targaryen has taken kings landing, your wife the princess Rhaella and your sister, Queen Helaena are said to be held prisoner along with your mother." Then he handed Aemond the parchment he gripped in his hand. "It was a trap, The black army was waiting for us when you sent us back to Kingslanding, your grace, The hand did not survive." The boys voice was shaking. "They shot him with several arrows and had me bring this back to you."

'There will be no songs ever sang for your Kingmaker, and we come for you Aemond one-eye. We come for you. The true queen already has what you hold dearest. And so we come for you.'

Dread.

Horrible, sick, pure dread.

Aemond could feel it clashing at his throat like a wild dog, attempting to rip its way out and wreck havoc all around. A fury fueled by flames bubbled in his gut and he felt as though he would be able to breath a thousand flames.

She had to live. If she didn't then they would all burn.

No,

Perhaps he would tease them first, burn what they dared attempt to take as a warning for something they had.

As regent it was his responsibility, to save his wife, to save his children. They could have him if they so wished it. As long as they could keep their lives.

"Take a horse, boy, ride wherever you wis, if you stay here they will surely kill you." It was all he said before leaving the room.

He would lure them out, take them away from her and bring them to him. They were surely prepared to come for him. He was a threat. And so he would act as one.

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Daemon Targaryen had always been described as a rouge, black sheep prince. His ambition knew no bounds and his temper had no limit. Yet his charm was strong enough to have you feel it in your gut with only a spare glance. His gaze itself felt like a string of flames dancing across your skin.

He was beautiful.

But as he stood in the doorway of the kings council room, he was an entity of anger and danger. His body radiated an aura of hot red hatred from his surroundings. But still as looked at his niece, his purple eyes danced in curiosity.

"I have just the thing in mind!" Daemon's voice commanded attention.

Rhaella turned to see him, Rhaynera too.

"Your Grandfather, my brothers old hand, is duly responsible for this mess you greens have created, I have said it for years, no good can ever come from a Hightower." The prince said, stepping into the room with his hand wrapped around the pummel of Dark sister. "Seems only fair he be the first we take out, does not not?"

Rhaella held the eye contact, leaning back into her chair. "I'm not sure I follow your meaning." She did.

But Daemon didn't answer, instead he just sat opposite her, leaning forward and staring her dead in the eye. "I heard from your mother that your children have gone missing." He sighed. "Lucky you have another one cooking."

"Daemon." Rhaynera warned.

But Rhaella just smiled at his insolence. "Lucky indeed, about as lucky as your children I suppose."

Daemon's face fell and his jaw tensed but after a minuet he bowed his head and leant back into the chair. "We've killed your brothers hand, crospin was it."

The news of Criston Cole's death seemed to shock Rhaynera as well as it did her younger sister, and Rhaella felt her stomach fall.

Criston had followed Aemond to Harrenhall, if he was dead, What did it mean for her husband.

No surely he was alive, he had to be. If he wasn't, then that meant there was nothing left.

But surely if Aemond was dead, then Daemon would've said so.

No Aemond was alive, she could feel it.

"Criston Cole is of no importance to me." Rhaella smiled. "He was my mothers dog, but all dogs die."

"Hm." Daemon nodded, reaching for the wine his wife held in her hands. "It appears they do, your Grandfather was my brothers dog, but dogs that bite are terrible company and they cannot be trusted, so it is for us to put them down."

"If you are asking me to kill my Grandfather to gain the Queens trust then I will do it." Rhaella scoffed. "Really, after everything I have heard about you Prince Daemon, I expected you to be a little bit more creative." She said standing from her chair and heading toward the door.

"There is still time for you to see my talents." Daemon smiled.

"I do not doubt it."

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