When Visenya Velaryon was born paler than the winter snows barely six moons after the wedding of Rhaenyra and Laenor, the whispers started there. Bastard. No matter how hard Rhaenyra tried to claim she was Laenor's daughter, her resemblance to Daemo...
I just want to thank everyone for the love in the last chapter, you have no idea how much it all meant. Like many people, my own journey with self-harm started as a teenager and carried on into adulthood, and hearing some of your own stories was beautiful and makes me so grateful to be in this community.
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How could he ever let go of her? She was broken and alone and he didn't want her alone until he could trust her to not want to hurt herself. He wasn't mad, not one bit, but she looked absent. She sat on a stool in the washroom as he grabbed a rag from the fallen basin.
What could he even say? He had no idea how to handle this situation, he just knew he had to be better than Daemon. He knew when Visenya was depressed after Laenor's death, Daemon was awful. He made her feel more alone. He had to do better for her. But he didn't know what to say.
But he did know one of the cuts she made was deep and still bleeding. If he wasn't quick, she'd pass out. He pressed the rag against her skin and walked to one of the cabinets, pulling out a small needle and a box of different threads and lines.
He knelt back in front of her and wiped the blood off, occasionally looking up at her but she was staring off into the distance. It reminded him of when Helaena would doze off with a prophecy on her mind.
"Okay, are you ready?" He asked softly, readying the wound for him to stitch. She didn't respond, just staying silent as she stared at the wall.
He heard her hiss as he started closing the cut, wiping away the blood as he worked. He looked up at her once he finished and reached for her hands. "I ... I won't make you or push you to speak about it. But I'm here, ñuha jorrāelagon."
Aemond stood up and pulled her up into his arms. "I love you more than I desire to put you through hell for a child."
She sniffled and buried her face into his chest. He kissed the top of her head and laid down, pulling her next to him. She wrapped her arms around his lithe waist, holding onto him like he was about to leave her forever. He rested his hand on the small of her back and the other hand went to her hair, combing his fingers through the locks.
"Don't leave me, Aemond."
He looked down at her and shook his head. "I could never dream of it, Visenya. Never. I won't hurt you."
"It would be so easy for you now, though. We have no heir, you could have the marriage annulled in the faith of the seven. Find a supple wife worthy of baring heirs."
"That's your mad side talking, Visenya. You would grow insane with jealousy and you know it. You would cut my cock off before ever letting me lay with another woman."
She chuckled through her tears, the smile a welcoming sight to Aemond. "I should work on my violence."
"No," Aemond responded. "You are perfect just how you are. Don't change for anyone. Not even for me. Ever. I need you just as you are, nothing else."
