KING'S LANDING
Crimson painted her dress. Splatters of red ran across her tanned face.
When the dagger fell to the ground with a loud clang, Hira released the dragon from within her.
She heaved.
The servant girl and the Hightower men associated with last night were dead by her hands. Their bodies mauled and maimed, beyond recognition besides the green cloaks and maid attire.
"There's no guilt." She murmured to the empty room.
Hira wasn't quite sure why she thought there would be. They orchestrated something cruel, something terrible. They didn't deserve any of her guilt.
It was done.
She was avenged.
Hira didn't know what she felt. Nothing. Perhaps everything all at one. All she knew was that there were plenty of people who had tried to hurt her. Each and every one of them failed. Each one was dead.
Aemond enclosed his hand in hers. He tilted her chin with a finger, a hungry gleam in his eye. He looked ready to devour her then and there.
"You are beautiful."
Even with the bruises, the blood stained face? She mused. Perhaps even more.
"Marry me. Tonight." He demanded.
At that, Hira's lips quirked, amused. It looked unusually captivating against the smeared red of her cheeks, with the way Aemond was ogling her. There was a jesting bite to her tone. "Is there a please in that sentence?"
He dipped low, lips slowly caressing hers, close enough to tease. For Hira to want, to beg.
He whispered sensationally, "Please."
She liked it when he begged.
Hira bit her lip, nodding.
Hand in hand, they walked out the cellar, barely sparing a glance at the destruction of their dragonblood.
[ x ]
It was a surprise to no one when Helaena greeted the two in Aemond's chambers, a pool of perfectly made garments on top of Aemond's silk bed. She paid no attention to their state, instead she was almost giddy to show the two her latest and most prized creations.
"Hel." Hira exclaimed, rushing to the fabrics. "Did you make this?"
"I had plenty of time on my hands." Helaena smiled. "They're your wedding garments."
Hira marvelled over the pieces.
The Chut Thai Chakkri was elegant. It was the traditional gown for a Lengii wedding.
Consisting of a sinh, a long tube skirt with two front pleats in the colour of a glorious royal navy blue. It was paired with a top embellished with gold trimmings and thread.
A sabai, a shawl-like upper garment that wrapped around the upper body and trailed down to the floor, was matching in colour, embroidered with patterns of dragons snaking around a tree laden with fruit. The fruit was stitched with sapphires and rubies that flickered in the light. A thick gold belt tied the garments together.
It was crafted with the intention of love and care, made by gentle hands.
When she was a young girl she worried over who would wed and bed her when the time came. She was eight when the first proposal was handed to her mother. He was an old, power hungry man from a lower noble class, but a wealthy merchant with a thriving business. His past wives died in childbirth, and Hira pleaded with her mother not to wed her off to a man closer to death than her age.
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The Passion of a Thousand Suns | Aemond Targaryen
Fanfiction❛❛ Aemond yearned for her, that much she knew. It was a pity duty held a crown over her head, for Hira would have gladly fallen into his desire. ❜❜ - Hira, known to the Seven Kingdoms as Daemon's bastard daughter. In Leng, a Princess, a daughter of...
