A Targaryen Game - Aemond x Reader Fanfiction

XII

Rhaenyra walks slowly towards the Iron Throne. The long black gown follows her elegantly across the red carpet. Daemon stands right in front of her, with the long-awaited and much-coveted crown. Aemond and I sit next to each other, somewhere to their left, next to the throne. Yaemon, Aerys and Yaehaera sit in front of us, calm and quiet, while Aerena sleeps in my arms.

Flanked by Daemon's trusted guards, including Ser Erryk, sit my brother, sister and mother. Helaena seemed eternally in a deathly, otherworldly silence as Alicent and Aegon struggled with the stark reality they were living. They had lost.

"With this crown you take your right to rule Westeros as the rightful monarch of this land." Daemon begins, letting his gaze wander to every corner of the room. Then he glances at Aegon, wearing a wicked grin.

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her Name. Queen of Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men and Lady Protector of the Realm." He says, then places the crown on her head. He steps aside, and the next moment, she occupies the Iron Throne. The much-gilded Iron Throne.

All the nobles, maesters, soldiers and maids present bow deeply. Yaehaera and I bow slightly, while Aemond and our sons nod briefly. I watch him for a few moments. Ever since he arrested Aegon, he hasn't been the same. It was like he was... hiding something. And I, as his sister, if not his wife, had to know what was wrong.

-

That same evening, the well-known feast followed. Everyone was to be present. But before the feast, I was going to visit someone. I needed that, and my own revenge.

The guards lead me through the tangled maze of dungeons beneath the castle. When we finally reach the end, I feel my stomach clench. It smells strongly of mould, of a place long forgotten. In addition to mould, it smelled of alcohol, a pungent, unpleasant smell.

I hold my breath when we arrive in front of my brother's cell. He was leaning against the wall, watching me from below. He looked pitiful. Clothes torn, holed, hair matted, tangled and soaked. But he was lucid.

"Have you come to enjoy your gaze?" He asks me in a whisper, running a hand through his hair. In the torchlight, his skin looked paler than it really was.

"I pity you, Aegon. You did it to yourself, and you know you have to pay now. Not that you're too keen on facing the consequences." I reply, ignoring his question. I guess it was rhetorical.

"Rhaenyra won't last long on the throne. Noble pride is infinite. They won't do a woman's bidding. You know it too well."

I remain silent for a moment. I look at the guards, and they move a little further away, just enough for me to speak privately with my older brother.

"I'm aware of that. Rhaenyra is a woman. The society we live in is so misogynistic that nothing surprises me anymore. I'm sick of men and their cheap principles."

Aegon snorts.

"But, I didn't fight on her side to win her the Throne. I did it to get my daughter back. We both got what we wanted. And you rot in this dungeon, forgotten by the world. I guess that's not very nice."

"What do you really want, Daemera? What are you up to? You didn't just come here to brag to me." He cuts me short. He suspects me? He didn't have to. He didn't know anything. Yet.

I keep quiet, until I speak, in an icy tone. "Rhaenyra won't be on the throne long. And me, and Aemond, and Daemon, even her, we know. We are all aware that her reign will be a very difficult one. But if she succeeds, there will be a much brighter future for women at the helm of a country, don't you agree?''