green lies, black hearts

V

a/n - hello to all my new readers! thank you for giving this fic a chance, and I hope y'all are enjoying :3

- p

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Aemond

A week Aemond stewed in his own loathing.

He took it upon himself to give Shaera "Velaryon" that damned dragon no matter what.

To rid his mind and tight chest of that scourge of a girl.

But how was it that he couldn't seem to find her alone for just a few moments?

~+~+~

First, it had been catching her walking in the halls.

He was going to grab her, pull her into an alcove and shove the damn dragon into her hands before making his swift departure. He only would have left quickly because he had promised his mother some time together. She had been rotting by herself when forced to take care of her dying husband, and Aemond was the only one seemingly keeping her from decaying like the very man who couldn't move by himself anymore. So, of course he would ditch Shaera as soon as he could. He didn't care her opinion on the dragon, he just needed her to take it and be done with it.

Shaera, with flowers decorating her hair, had turned the corner and Aemond straightened up, hand gripping the wooden statue tightly-almost too much so. Take the damn thing, he would have said. Take it and leave my mind. Take it and haunt me no longer, witch. But then she was laughing. Laughing at something...Rhaena Targaryen had said. The bastard's stepsister rounded the corner with her. Both were carrying baskets of flowers.

Shaera's smile was so wide, Aemond thought it must have hurt her. She reached over to her stepsister and lodged a marigold between her silver locs, tripping over herself in her fit of laughter. Aemond took a step forward.

Rhaena kept Shaera from toppling to the ground.

Aemond realized he had lifted his hand, fingers ready to wrap around Shaera's bicep to keep her from skimming her knees again like that one day in the keep so long ago. He jerked his hand back to his side.

The girls stood there for a long while, grabbing their stomachs as they curled over with laughter that grated on Aemond's ears. He clenched his jaw, hoping Shaera could feel his glare. Hoping she did trip and fall and scrap her fucking knees. He hoped every single flower tucked into her nigh-black hair fell out. He hoped she would just stop fucking laughing because it made his stomach turn and his chest cave in. Surely it was so disgusting, his body repelled it.

Aemond was quick to find his mother, unable to stomach the sight any longer. Thankfully, if Alicent had noticed his foul mood, she did not comment on it.

~+~+~

The second time had been infuriating.

He had decided at one point just to carry the dragon around at all times so that in the off chance that he found her-he did not seek her out-he could hand it off and be done. And the next chance he got was in the library. Aemond had gone to find a book of histories-specifically one on the conquest of Dorne, or the failure of really-and there she had been, seated at a table, head propped up by one hand as she wrote something down on a stack of papers. Quill in hand and frown upon her face, she had been the picture of exhausted peace.

Staring at her through the aisle of stacks, Aemond knew he should go up now. Knew he should slam the dragon on the table and leave. But then her face had started to slip, her eyelids fluttering shut, and she kept trying so hard to stay awake, but sleep was a vicious enemy and it felled it quickly. She didn't stir when Aemond approached, and she didn't seem to mind when he helped her lay her head over her arm instead of letting it slam against the wooden surface.