Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Consumed

Chapter Eighty-Six~ Comsumed

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Aemond rode through the forest, hood over his head. The sun hadn't yet risen in the sky, and the beings of the woods were only just rising from their slumber.

It made him think of his love. How he had left her, white hair sprayed across her pillow and eyes closed in a peaceful rest.

It made him ache.
His body, his mind, his heart. It all hurt.

He ached for her.

And an uncertainty set in his heart then, how after he placed the rose on his pillow and turned his back to leave the room, that it may of been the last time he got to be in the presence of his life.

Because that was what Rhaella was. She was his heart, his life. Hells she was his religion, he would publicly denounce his faith in respect of his wife if it meant their souls would remain united for all eternity.

Rhaella was his eternity.

She consumed him morning, noon and night. Everything he did was through thought of her.

Her lips, her eyes, her laugh.

All of her.

She consumed him.

And it pained him in the most torturous ways when he thought about never seeing her again.

And with each gallop of his horse and each beat of his sinful heart, thoughts of her absence spread throughout him like a virus.
He could almost choke on it the more he thought of her.

He wanted her injected into his veins, like medicine to make everything bad go away, because that's what she did. With every kiss and every defiance she soothed him. It was as close to the heavens as he could get, and if it was with her then no other heaven mattered.

But he wouldn't risk her life for a challenge sent for him.

That's why he had done it.

Because he loved her.

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It may well of been the best night of rest she had ever had. Of course the beds were not as comfortable as the ones at the red keep, but Aemond has soothed her into a deep enough slumber that she could rest easy beside him.

Rhaella did not have to open her eyes to know that she was alone in the room.

Aemonds presence was void, the heat she clung to was not there and neither was the sound of his breathing.

When she did open her eyes what she saw pulled thick ropes of hellish dread from her heart. Like an omen disguised as a gift, she knew the suffering it came at the price of.

A red rose.

A red rose lay on his pillow.

How she had loved every single one she had been given over the course of her life.

But this one was not surrounded in love.

It was an apology.

He had left without saying goodbye to her, and the rose was a way of buying her forgiveness.

How long ago Aemond had left was unclear. But the creases in the bed were still present from where he had lay, yet they were as cold as stone.

Her slip was nowhere in sight, and she couldn't run naked through the halls, so her day dress would have to do.

The green was a memory of everything she had lost and why, and as the fabric of the forest colour clung to her milky skin she felt it's shadow burning her sins into her skin.

Her hair hung wildly around her face as she headed for the door, the white like a curse of winter and she was set to wreck havoc on the land she walked on.

But the door was locked.

No, it couldn't be.

She pulled and pulled again on the metal ring, yet it did not budge.

Then she banged and smacked against the wood, kicking and pushing on it. She could hear the sound echoing down the hall, taunting her that they could make freedom but she could not.

She screamed out her husbands name, knowing it was him behind this.
"Aemond!" She called out.
She was furious as she yelled and screamed, now words but callings and nobody was answering. which frustrated her all the more.
"Fucking cunt, bastard I'll kill him." She muttered.

Then she moved toward the balcony, and she cursed him again for moving their rooms. Below, around one hundred feet down, was rocky waters.

The stone pushed through the surface like a blade through flesh and the rain bled against it.
If she jumped, she would surely bleed too.

He had trapped her.

In a vain attempt at keeping her safe he had sealed her fate.

Rhaella screamed again, perhaps the cook or the serving girl would walk by and hear her.

But the defeating sound of silence after each cry, she knew there was nobody coming for her.

"Damn you Aemond Targaryen!" She shouted, Tears streaming down her face as she thought of life without him.

She wouldn't do it.

She loved him with every ounce of her being, every breath and beating of her heart. She loved him.

Aemond was her forever.

In this life and the next, he was her forever.

And the thought of losing him made her head spin in a disgusting way.

She screamed out into the room, releasing a pain that was not physically felt. That was why their love was so dangerous, it was like a tumor. Deadly and toxic to the point living without it most likely meant not living at all.

He was her soul, she was full of him, his sent his body his heart and his mind.

He consumed her.

He had made her a promise, and she would not let him leave her.

She refused.

Then she noticed two axes crossed over the other, hung above the heath.
The Princess practically leapt toward them, and with a hard pull one flew from the stone wall.

She swung the heavy blade against the door, and with each smack of the metal dull dent's appeared in the wood.

She probably looked like a mad woman, swinging an axe in an attempt to escape the prison her husband had placed her in.

She was crying as her arms flew back and forth with the axe. Out of anger and frustration, both at her husband and the door.

Aemond had wanted to protect her, she knew that.

But he may well have damned himself in doing so.

Then came a cry from the sky, and she flew toward the balcony. The clouds were grey yet the sun shone through them like an eye from the heavens.

And eye sent to carry out judgment on the sinners on the land beneath it.

A shadow passed over the light and to nobody watching it must have just been a cloud.

But clouds do not have wings.

They do not breathe fire.

And they do not carry rouge princes on their backs.

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