His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Nine

Author's Note: I feel like a broken record, but THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT!! I have almost 3k reads on this story, and I'm literally dying! I have never found people who have loved something that I love like y'all. I wanna giggle, twirl my hair, and kick my feet, but I also need to like screaming into the void to get these big feelings out. xD  Finally, we have reached the beginning of the end for our sweet main character, but with the loss of innocence breeds strength.

Chapter Warnings: It's Game of Thrones. What do you expect? A happy ending?

The hours dragged on, and soon the sun was setting for the next day. No one had come to open your doors. Servants had not come to give you meals or help you undress.

You had traveled from your solar to your bed chamber, to the door again, unable to rest for a moment. Your lip throbbed, and your cuticles were stained with crusted blood. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders. The unknown was gnawing at your insides. No one would answer your cries.

You survived on pure adrenaline, your limbs constantly shaking as time ticked on. Your mind was set on what could happen to Lyra and Sara. The power of the Targaryen's had no limit. If they wished, they could destroy an entire House. Sons, daughters, mothers, and fathers wiped out with a single dragon's breath.

There was no escape for you, not now, not ever. You had to accept the destiny the Gods had paved for you with a stiff lip as a soldier on the battlefield.

A breeze ruffled your skirts, securing your arms around your torso for warmth and comfort. Another gust whistled through the cracks in the stone walls, the glass in the windows crackling to adjust to the sudden temperature change. You followed each noise, eyes darting across the room. You ran to your wardrobe as your mind raced with ideas, taking a regal woolen cloak with a three-headed dragon embroidered over the left breast.

You rushed to the other side of your bed chambers, feeling the wall for any indentation or crack where Lyra had entered your room the other night. There was no time to scold yourself for not remembering such crucial information as your fingers quickly searched. Finally, you felt a small crack in the wall that was not there from age as you pulled, scraping your nails across the stone. The metal hinges creaked as you opened it, a gust of damp air blanketing your exposed flesh, your hair standing on edge.

No torches lined the way, cobwebs hanging just above ones head as you peered into the darkness. Quickly, you grabbed a candlestick, using that as your only light source as you entered the black tunnel. You had no clue where this led, having no choice but to keep going forward blindly.

You hoped you were using your time effectively. The thought of someone coming into your rooms to let you out while you traversed through the endless night crossed your mind, and doubt began to fester.

It seemed there was no end to the labyrinth of the Red Keep until you spotted another secret entrance. It would be easier to navigate the castle once you were back in the lavish halls; you just prayed wherever you entered was unoccupied.

The door was heavy, catching on a ledge you could not see as you opened. You attempted to remain quiet as you shoved the door with your shoulder, a dull pain radiating through your chest as you tried again, the passage finally giving.

The Gods answered your prayers as you found yourself in an unfamiliar hall. You breathed a sigh of relief as you gathered your surroundings. Luxurious rugs of red covered the floor, drapings of House Targaryen's crest lining the walls as you shut the door, finding its place around the many similar stones. No guards were posted in the corridors, which raised alarm in your mind, but you pushed it away, following your gut. You trusted your instincts to guide you taking in deep breaths as you wandered blindly.