EIGHTEEN

828 24 2
                                    

The cries of Visenya Velaryon echo the halls of Dragonstone into the early hours of the next morning. Her first child was coming two months early than expected, and everyone was worried. Rhaenyra was panicking for the safety of her daughter, her only daughter; she would not lose her only girl. Daemon was nowhere to be found; instead, he was on a mission to find the maester who had been prescribing Visenya the tea–he was out for blood.

"Daemon," Rhaenyra called for her husband as he passed by. Another scream echoed through the empty halls.

Daemon paused, looking over to his beloved wife, whose cheeks were stained with tears. He stalked over to her, blood still boiling. "What?" He sharply demanded, hell-bent on revenge.

Rhaenyra took his hand and tried to compose herself; her only daughter was suffering behind those doors, and she could do nothing. "Forget the maester," she whispered, "find Aemond and bring him here."

Daemon was taken aback. Aemond had yet to be heard from in seven moon turns; why now did it matter? Rhaenyra could see the conflict within Daemon's eyes, "please, he at least needs to be here for the funeral."

Rhaenyra did not know whose funeral it would be, but nonetheless, Aemond needed to be here for that. Daemon nodded and soon left without another word just as another agonising scream rang out, followed by one of the maesters exiting the room.

"She's asking for you," he said, leading the way for Rhaenyra to enter the room.

The inside of the room was a site to behold. Visenya's handmaidens stood only a few feet from the princess as she lent over the table in agony, her underdress drenched in sweat. Rhaenyra rushed to her daughters' side and held her close, "mother."

Visenya looked at her mother, vision hazy and her legs threatening to collapse under her weight. "I can't," she whispered, "he won't come."

Visenya cried again in agony, and Rhaenyra held onto her daughter, trying to support her the best she could. "Come, my sweet child, sit and rest, please," Rhaenyra led Visenya over to the bed, where she lay her down and propped her head up with pillows.

Rhaenyra beacons the nurses to help assist her daughter while she speaks to the maester. "Tell me maester Gerardys, what our are options here?"

Maester Gerardys sighs, not a good sign. "I'm afraid our options are limited princess," he pauses, "is there a husband or a father I may speak with?"

"No," Rhaenyra states firmly, "all matters regarding my daughters well-being are either cleared through myself or my heir."

Maester Garardys looks to Visenya, who's half asleep on the bed. "Princess, we cannot save both; a choice must be made," he regretfully tells Rhaenyra.

Without hesitation, Rhaenyra decided, "my daughter. You will save my daughter."

–––––

Daemon knew he would not reach Kings Landing by the time Visenya had given birth, it was a two-day flight, yet he was determined to bring the news. Soaring over Blackwater Bay gave Daemon much-needed time to think; how would he tell Aemond? What will he tell Aemond? 'Visenya was pregnat but lost the child', 'Visenya gave birth but lost her own life', 'You've lost both your wife and child.' None of these sounded right.

Daemon did not bother with the courtesy of landing in the Dragon Pit; instead, he had Caraxes drop him on the Red Keep's doorstep and fly off. They would not be here long.

"Prince Daemon," one of the guards at the gate spoke, shocked by his sudden arrival.

"Where is Prince Aemond?"

DARKSIDE // Aemond TargaryenWhere stories live. Discover now