Nefarious || Aemond Targaryen

8

"So that is what you plan on saying to defend Luke's name tomorrow?" Aemma scoffs.

It was nearing midnight, they should have been in a deep sleep by now, but instead, they sat wide awake in their mothers apartments. Jace, Luke and Aemma all sat on their mother's bed as she paced around the room, planning for the events that were to occur the following morrow. At least attempting to.

"Yes, and I have no doubt that Ser Vaemond will go by the same way."

"But Vaemond has the Hightowers to back him, mother. We don't." Aemma states. "And if grandsire really is as bad as you say he is, we don't have him either."

"We have nobody, mother." Jace pitches in.

"Now that is enough for tonight. Daemon and I have come to the conclusion that this was the best way to go by. Go to bed, I will not hear another word of this." Rhaenyra nagged as she ran her fingers through her hair.

They left without avail. They had never seen their mother in a state of such stress, she always kept to herself. This time she was slowly losing it. They all knew the accusations that were to be thrown around the Great Hall tomorrow, they all knew that Ser Vaemond wouldn't hold back and he would say what would have to be said, even if that meant delegitimizing Rhaenyra's children in front of the entire court.

Aemma bid farewell to her younger brothers as she reached her chambers, she was terribly exhausted but she wasn't going to bed. Not yet. If her mother wasn't going to do something about it, she was. One could call her actions desperate, and they were right. She was desperate. They were all desperate. There was only one thing left to do.

"Good night, Ser Garrick." she bid to her guard as she entered. She locked the door behind her making sure that it would be impossible for her guard or maid to enter if something were to happen. Making her way to the painting next to her bed, she pushes it, revealing the secret passages.

All she had to do now was try to remember where her grandsires chamber were without accidentally walking into somebody else's chambers. She could just imagine the incredulous look on Alicent's face if she were to accidentally enter her chambers at this ungodly hour. Or worse, if she were to enter Aemond's.

Think Aemma, she thought. In her youth she would often barge into the King's chambers when he was least expecting it to try and scare him. But that was six years ago. Closing her eyes, she tried to vividly remember the past, but it led to no avail. All she remembered was that she had to take two lefts and a right turn, then it would be the first door to the left. Or was it two right turns and a left. She groaned in agony.

Deciding to trust her gut, she took a left turn, then a right turn, then another left. To her left there was an entrance door. She shuddered at how cold the passageways were before slowly opening the door. Painful groans were heard coming from the inside, she sighed in relief. It was him. The moment she stepped foot into his chambers, the smell of rotting flesh filled her nostrils. She grimaced at the pungent smell.

Her heart nearly broke at the sight of her grandsire. He looked even worse than her mother had described. A bandage covered the right half of his face and the other half looked like the skin would break at any given moment. She quietly approaches his bed and sat on it. Viserys stirred.

"Alicent, Alicent." he whispered.

"No, it's Aemma, grandsire. Rhaenyra's daughter." she clarified.

"Aemma, my sweet child." he opens his eyes. "Oh, Aemma." He was knackered, he was surely given a great amount of milk of the poppy. "My only child's first born, my first grandchild."

"Are you in pain?" she asked, her hand reaching out to clasp his.

"No, no..." he whimpered, letting out ragged breaths. "my tea, hand me my tea."