Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Dancing Dragons

Chapter Eighty-Seven- Dancing Dragons

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

She felt sick.

As sick as she could feel, to the point she found her self vomiting onto the hard wood floor.

Everything screamed out to her.

Or was that her screaming.

She didn't know. She was deafened by her own solitude.

She reached for the axe and as her hysterics beat against the wooden door once again, there was no sign of anything happening.

Taunting her by standing in her way she screamed out a curse at every being that would walk these halls, and she hoped every owner was burning in the hells for keeping these doors.

No wonder the strongs died, there was no possible way of getting out of these rooms once they were locked.

She hoped the cook was bleeding out in the kitchens and she hoped the serving girl was choking in the halls, and if they weren't she would kill them herself for not getting her out of here.

Her screams could be heard for miles, and she swore and swore as she hacked away at the door.

Her temper turned then to the bed, until that was broken and bashed. splinters flying across her cheek and bedding into her skin.

Then the dresser, then the trunk, all of the paintings and tapestries. Ruined in her rampage.

There was no leaving through that door.

For a split second her fury paused, and the window seemed to call her name again.

It was chance to none she would survive that jump.
The rocks were daring her to face them.

But odds had never been in her favor.
It had never stopped her facing them before.
And it wouldn't now.

She climbed to the sill, the sole of her foot cold against the slab, yet her whole body was burning.

She thought of her sister then. Helaena had no fear of falling, she had wanted to die.
And then Rhaella thought if she, herself did.

But she couldn't.
Not yet.

There were things she still needed to do.

Ensuring Aemond lived being one of them.

So she jumped, further out into the air to attempt escaping the clutches of the rocks below.

And as she dived through the air with her hands breaking the air first, the rest of her body following straight behind, she felt every year of her life crash past her the further she fell.

Her white hair flew behind her, and like a comet she burned toward the water at a pace she didn't even know possible.

But the water never hit.

Instead she fell with a thud against something hard.

she hadn't died , she was sure but her eyes didn't dare open.

Until they heard a dragon cry.

And then she saw those beautiful bronze scales of her bonded beast and she let out a sob.

Vermithor had heard her cries for help.

Not another human being.

Her bronze beast had heard, and he had come for her.