The Grey Wolf & The Golden Dragon | Aegon Targaryen II

You and I Drink the Poison from the Same Vine

Aemond

Aemond's mind was always a cacophony of acrid thoughts when he woke in the morning, particularly on mornings like this... Mornings where he woke with a dull throbbing beneath an eye that no longer existed. First came the pain, sometimes in the form of searing pain; other times in the form of a pounding headache. The first think he would do was call for a tea, the willow bark helping to relieve the ache. Then came the anger, blood red and searing hot as he mulled repeatedly over the events of Driftmark.

Aemond couldn't regret his decision to claim Vhagar; he would gladly give his eye all over again to keep her. Everything that happened after that moment, though...

Ever since that night, Aemond carried such hate inside him. Hate for the bastard that took his eye without recourse. Hate for his sister, who sired bastards without repercussion, who defended them blindly and called for answers to be forced from him. Hate for his father, who had demanded the truth over the insult and yet hadn't bothered to punish Lucerys for doing something far worse. And while Aegon had never been angry that Aemond had shifted the blame to him, he certainly hadn't tried to help the situation. He learned then that the only person he could truly rely on, that he could trust, was his mother.

So, he poured his malice and anger into his training in an effort to release it. He busied himself with his studies and duties in hopes that his father would approve. He never approved. In fact, his father was now too ill to do much of anything; he barely recognized his own children. He recognized Rhaenyra of course... His precious first born could do no wrong... The spoiled bitch...

A whimper fell from Elin's lips, tearing him from his thoughts as she shifted in her sleep. Since their coupling in Vhagar's cave, she had spent nearly every night in his bed and Aemond was growing fond of her; perhaps too fond. Unconsciously, she shifted toward him, whining as she pressed her face into his chest, her breathing calming once more.

Knowing his presence soothed her made Aemond's insides twist, an unfamiliar pang of warmth settling in his chest. He would never ask her, but the prince knew something awful had happened to her in her past; something that made her whimper in her sleep and wake trembling and crying out in the middle of the night. Aemond would wrap her in his arms and rock her, murmuring sweet things in her ear until she finally fell asleep once more. In the mornings, Elin woke without memory of the incidents, and so he never spoke of them.

Elin... Elin had changed everything. She had opened something inside him. The girls at court looked at him with eyes full of fear; averting their gaze and shying away. His grandfather and mother looked at him with eyes full of expectations. His father didn't look at him at all. But Elin... Elin looked at him with burning blue eyes full of intrigue and excitement. Elin looked a him as if he mattered; the feeling was both unsettling and freeing to his poisoned soul.

"Aemond..." His name was breathed from her mouth so clearly he thought Elin had finally woken, but when he glanced down, her eyes were still closed; her lips slightly parted and breathing steadily. Frozen in place, the prince stared down at her. Had he only imagined she'd said his name?

A soft knock came on his door, and Aemond finally released her sleeping form and slipped out of bed, tugging on a pair of breeches.

"Come," he called softly. The door opened and Alysanne Stark entered the room, carrying the tray that held their breakfast, willow bark tea, and moon tea for Elin; the tray Martyn typically brought up. "Lady Stark," he greeted, fumbling for a shirt to cover himself...

Alysanne

"For fuck's sake, Aemond," Alysanne chided, waving her hand dismissively, "You're to be my brother soon and you're fucking my best friend. Call me Alysanne..."