The Grey Wolf & The Golden Dragon | Aegon Targaryen II

The Space Between

Aemond

The sight of Elin sitting in front of the wide windows of the staircase, her head propped up on her knees as she stared out at the scenery, hit him like a slab of stone crushing him head-first. Aemond felt like his insides were being squeezed, clawed, gouged into until he couldn't breathe.

She was dressed in green, pale, sage green that made her skin look soft and creamy and Aemond longed to touch it, as he had so many nights before.

"Yes, Aegon is a fucking idiot..." Daeron conceded to her reply, sitting beside her. "Somehow Alysanne Stark only makes him worse..."

"She does..." Elin admitted, the sound of her voice penetrating the walls of his heart and settling deep in his chest. "My lady is chaotic and impetuous. She was that way long before I met her. Losing one's parents could do that, I'm sure..."

"So, what have they done?" Aemond finally asked, relieved that his voice seemed to be working again.

"I can't be sure, as my lady did not confer with me, but... I think they went to Winterfell..."

Aemond didn't know what he expected her to say, but it wasn't that.

"Winterfell..." he echoed, taking a seat beside Daeron. Those idiots... Idiots, in love, to be sure, but the dumbest couple he had ever met. What were they thinking leaving the Crownlands without their guards? Fucking idiots...

Elin returned her attention to the sun setting in the distance and Aemond watched her, wondering if she felt as sad as she looked. His gut clenched at the thought; at the thought that his actions had been part of the reason she was sad.

"I can't believe they left me here with nothing to do and Queen that hates me..." Elin murmured, glaring out the window. There was a long silence as both princes considered her words, trying to find something to say.

"I could find us something to do," Daeron teased, his grin widening, the words had dragonfire licking the edges of his consciousness. It didn't matter that he adored his brother, if Daeron so much as touched Elin, Aemond would kill him... To her credit, the redhead didn't even bother to turn and look at the youngest prince.

"No..." she sighed, "I suppose I should join Helaena and dress for dinner... If you'll excuse me... Prince Daeron, Aemond..."

He didn't miss the way she hadn't used his title as she bid them goodbye, his name sounding far too familiar and pleasant falling from her lips. Then, Elin turned and climbed the steps, walking away from him. Gods, he missed her. The sound of her voice, the rush of his pulse when she touched his skin, the deep blues of her eyes that he loved to lose himself in. "I swear to the Gods," he snarled, gripping Daeron by the collar, "if you so much as look in her direction with those fucking 'Daeron the Dreamboat' eyes of yours, I will rip your fucking larynx out with my bare fucking hands. Do you understand me, brother?"

"Fucking hells, Aemond..." Daeron asked, still grinning; the fact that Aemond had just threatened him didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. "You really are in love, aren't you?"

Fuck... Aemond was in love with her... Somehow, he didn't know when, Elin had dug her way into his cold, lifeless heart, and now she was embedded there. He was in love with a woman he could never have, and he hated it...

Elin

Elin was livid with Alysanne, pissed beyond all recognition. How could she just abandon her and leave her alone in the keep? Alysanne knew that the Queen hated her; that she was as no longer welcome in Aemond's bed. How could he just leave? And Winterfell of all places? It was foolish of her to travel with the prince; it put all of them as risk; it put the betrothal at risk.