Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Real

Chapter Ninety-Five~ Real

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"My word, I do not miss being on the receiving end of that temper."

Aemond.

Rhaella's eyes flew open at the sound of his voice.

The hall was dark, dimly lit by the torches on the stone walls.

But there he was clear as day, leaning against the stone pillar beneath the hanging basket of roses. He reached his arm up to pluck one from the basket.

He took a few steps till he was in front of her, and he held his hand out for her to take the rose.

Her hand was shaky, but she could feel the flower and the palms of his hands as she took the rose from his hand.

Her eyes never left his as he looked down at her. She could hear her heart beating and the heat of her breath pushing past her lips.

She jumped when she felt his hand close around hers, trapping the flower gently into her grip.

"Are you real?" She whispered.

Aemond pressed her against the wall, before he cupped her cheeks in his hands and pulled her closer to kiss her lips.

It was different this time, because it was his soul touching her instead of him, and it felt like heavens gift. A million stars kisses her when he did, and it felt like dying the most perfect death anyone could.
It was torture wrapped in silk, because it was a pain unbearable to feel, knowing that they were separated.

Rhaella softened at his touch, and when he pulled away he rested his head on hers.

"Do I feel real?" He smirked, before pressing another soft kiss to her forehead. "Come with me, I have something to show you." He said, taking her hand and pulling her to follow him.

As she walked, slightly behind him, she watched for any trick or tell that it wasn't him. But there was nothing at fault, everything down to the stride in his step was the same.

Aemond moved behind her, and leaned against her, looking over her shoulder as they stopped at the balcony onlooking the garden.

He took the rose from her hand and left it to the side, before taking both her hands in his own and resting them on the stone in front of her.

She felt of jolt of something flick through her body when he took both of her hands, something different to when he only held one. But Rhaella kept her head turned though, so she could look at his face, studying the image that would forever be printed in her mind.

"Look." Aemond said, nudging her a little till she turned her gaze to where he was looking.

Her heart pulled when she did.

Down in the gardens sat five faces that had been taken from her world.

Helaena, sat on at stone bench.
Daeron sat next to her.
They were watching Maelor and Jaehaerys play.
And then Aerys sat perched in the weirwood tree.

Dreamfyre and Tessarion lay resting and curled by their riders, and the young dragons rolled and wrestled playfully in the grass.

"Mother!" He yelled when he saw her stood with his father.

Daeron and Helaena follwed his gaze and her sister smiled gently and her younger brother gave her his lobs idea cheeky grin and a wave.

"He looks different to when I saw him." Rhaella said as she looked to her son who was grinning from the red leaf tree.

"Harrenhall hall tends to do that." Aemond replied.

"What is this place." Rhaella whispered.

"I cannot tell you yet, only the dead can understand it." Aemond replied.

So she wasn't dead. Which had been her second thought, when she felt his skin on hers.
"So why can I see it?"

Aemond rested his head on her shoulder, and she leaned back into him desperate to feel her home.

"I'm sharing it with you, it won't last forever and I can only come after a while." Aemond said.

"Why?" Rhaella questioned, her gut twisting at his words.

"Jaehaerys used to visit Helaena a lot, bringing someone somewhere they ought not to be can break the mind, your soul will become attached while your mind attempts to drag you back." He said.

"Aemond I,

"Not yet Rhaella, you're closer than you've ever been, there is one more thing you must do before you can take the step that ensures fate may take its course." Aemond replied.

"What is it?" Rhaella questioned.

Aemond went to reply, but a voice broke through her concerntration.

"Princess?" Baela's voice echoed from down the hall, and Rhaella was startled by it, and in her own mistake she let go of Aemonds hands.

He was gone from her then.

Again.

And the hole that had managed to fill for a short time, emptied again till all that was left was an abyss of emptiness.

She called out to him, but there was nothing there. Not even his smell, or the sound of his breath against her ear.

Tears rolled down her face, silent rivers of pain falling from violet pools, raw against her skin.

She sank to her knees, and she leant back against the stone. Her heart shattered twice over till she was sure she could feel the shards pressing into her bones.

Lady Baela fell to her knees when she saw the broken princess, and she was voicing her concerns.

But Rhaella could only hear the whispers of the other world against the muffled voice of her cousin.

Baela pulled Rhaella to her feet, and she was wobbly at first, her knees faltering, casusing Baela to offer her support.

"Let's go to your room shall we?" Baela said.

Rhaella couldn't bring herself to be angry with Baela for snapping her attention, not when she saw the rose resting on the ledge.
Pretty and red, like the colour of the other hundred he had gifted her.

She plucked it from the Stone, and pressed the half stem into her skin, drawing spots of blood from tiny wounds.
Her blood ran the same colour as the rose, but she needed to know that the ghost of her lost love had really been here, and dragging her pain from his gift was her instinct to ensure that she was still living.

And as Baela walked Rhaella to her room, helped her change into a night shift, and wrapped her in a fur and sat her by the fire before leaving to get some tea.

Rhaella's eyes did not leave that of the direction of the rose.

She was close.

Aemond had said it, and the rose was evidence that he had.

She was close.

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