Born to Die

Chapter 13

Aemond didn't sleep, and he didn't let go of Aemeryn during the night. He simply alternated his stare between the ceiling and his sleeping wife. Craven. Aemeryn would struggle to move away from him in her sleep from the heat of Dorne, but he would pull her right back to his side. This earned him a swift kick from a still sleeping Aemeryn, and he grinned. He knew he would have a bruise on his shin, but he didn't care.

"Did you even sleep?" Aemeryn asked as he brushed and braided her hair again.

"Doesn't matter," Aemond replied as he pressed a kiss to the back of her head before standing. Aemeryn reached out and grabbed his wrist. He looked down at her concerned face and knelt in front of her. "It's just the heat here, little dove. I'll sleep eventually."

"Something is troubling you, Aemond. What is it?"

"What makes you think something is troubling me?"

Aemeryn sighed and ran her fingers through his silky hair. "You get these lines right here," Aemeryn ran her finger between his eyes, "and you've had them since you came to me at Harrenhal."

"Hmm," Aemond hummed as he stood and kissed her forehead. She had known something was wrong this entire time, and that didn't sit well with him. Gods, she was going to lose her shit if he didn't lose his head before. He knew that Daemon would come after him as soon as he saw him. Aemond could only hope Daemon would make sure Aemeryn was out of the room before.

Aemeryn climbed off of Vermithor and smiled. Dragonstone was finally underneath her feet again, and she took a deep breath. The sea combined with dragon fire and made an interesting scent, but to Aemeryn it was home. Aemeryn took Aemond's hand in her own and squeezed it. Aemond stared at the building in front of him with terror in his gaze. The color had drained from his face, and he instinctively rubbed his neck.

"Aemond?" Aemond blinked and looked down at his wife. He took in every detail of her. The way her eyes shone with happiness and concern for his mood. Her hair the same shade as his own and falling out of the braid he had put it in. The straight angle of her nose, and her lips that were the perfect size for her face.

"I'm sorry, Aemeryn."

"Sorry? For what?"

"Avy jorrāelan," Aemond whispered as he kissed her softly. He committed to memory how soft her lips were.

"Avy jorrāelan," Aemeryn muttered back against his lips. She didn't understand what was wrong with him. She pulled away and looked at him with confusion. Aemond couldn't even meet her gaze.

Aemeryn frowned and grabbed his hand again as she pulled him into her home. Their boots clicked against the stone floor and was the only noise throughout the castle. Where was her family? Where were the guards?

Aemond and Aemeryn entered the throne room, and the sound of a sword being drawn was the first thing that greeted them. The two didn't hesitate to draw their own swords to defend themselves.

"Aemeryn?" Aemeryn turned when she heard the relief in her mother's voice. Rhaenyra stood from the throne she was sitting on, but Daemon stepped in front of her. He had his gaze on Aemond, and Aemeryn stepped in front of him slightly. Daemon finally looked at his daughter, and she saw nothing but rage etched on his face.

"Is there a specific reason I have been greeted with swords instead of love upon my return home?" Aemeryn couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"I'm trying to figure out if you're stupid or suicidal," Daemon spat back. Rhaenyra moved around her husband and glared. Aemeryn knew he wouldn't harm her mother and took the opportunity to look around the room.