The Passion of a Thousand Suns | Aemond Targaryen

Thirty: of kinslayers

KING'S LANDING

***Trigger Warning: broken bones, amputation, decapitation***

As Hira jolted awake, it took a moment to convince herself she wasn't trapped in that nightmare.

Sunlight glittered past the windows, shining across her blemished face.

Her body ached with every movement and her eyes darted to every corner of the room, afraid someone would jump out. She fisted her hands and took a deep breath, begging her mind to stop replaying the events of last night.

Even when she slept, beneath her eyelids was that bastard's leering, taunting face. His words washed over her, the threats and promises of using her body and disregarding it after, as if she was nothing more than a whore paid at the brothels.

Hira was a princess, she was a Han and they attempted to mock her by degrading her body. But she was a dragon, she was Leng. She was untamed and fury and fire in one body, in one soul.

She would have her vengeance.

She would have their deaths. Their heads in her palms. They would beg for their lives and Hira will take it from them with no ounce of mercy. Only bloodshed.

Hira remained naked on the bed. She was unwilling to dress herself after the bath.

She felt dirty and rotten, despite scrubbing her skin clean.

Aemond hadn't returned. She wondered what had become of him after the dinner. What kept him from his chambers so late? She wrapped the duvet cover over her body, losing the battle that fought itself in her mind.

When Aemond finally entered the room, he took one look at her and snarled.

"Who did this to you?"

Despite his harsh tone, his gentle hands cradled her face, eye wide at the handprint that marked the side of her tanned face. She unclothed herself, removed the duvet and revealed to Aemond what those monsters had done.

He inhaled sharply. He fell to his knees on the bed, eye darting from her face to her neck, down to the bruises on her legs and hip.

"Who?" He demanded, trembling with poorly contained rage. It cut through her pain, reminding Hira that Aemond was also a dragon made flesh.

"Who?" He asked again, his eye darkening in a way that chilled her. He angled her face so that he stared straight at her. "Tell me and I will rid this world of them."

"Martyn Hightower." She spoke gravely. "A servant girl passed along food and tea whilst you were dining with your family. I was dizzy and nauseous afterwards." Hira's voice broke. "Then I was lured to some corridor by the same girl. We stumbled on Larys Strong who I am sure helped orchestrate this. Then Martyn had his men hold me down whilst he-"

She stopped.

Aemond shook with anger at her words, to the point where a vein appeared on his face and his scar seemed to tighten underneath his eyepatch.

"He ..." Aemond trailed off. "Did he ..."

"He strangled me. Said he would, but he didn't. He almost but ..." She could hardly get the words out. "I tried to stop him, believe me Aemond I tried, but it-"

Hira bowed her head.

Aemond reached for her again, before pulling back, looking unsure of himself, perhaps for the first time since she's known him. "Am I allowed to ... Can I hold you, Hira? Is that okay?"