HARRENHAL
AEMOND
Aemond was a fucking fool.
He crumpled the paper in his hand, snarling at the messenger boy to leave. Cole stared at him in disapproval. He knew of the man's reluctance to leave the capital, yet cared little for it during the time.
He was tricked. They fucking stole King's Landing from under his nose with eight dragons, including Daemon's, which meant he wasn't bloody here at Harrenhal. Which meant everything he had done was for nothing.
Daemon played him like a fool and he let himself be pulled like a puppet on strings, like a dog on a leash.
"We need to withdraw south and join Garmund. We can retake the capital with the Hightower forces and the Houses still loyal to us." Cole advised.
"We will do no such thing." Aemond interjected, throwing the parchment into the fireplace.
His blood was boiling with every bit of rage. Bested by his half-sister and her brood of bastards. Daemon was supposed to be at Harrenhal and that lying, son of a whore wasn't here to meet Aemond head on as he was supposed to! Aemond yearned for his revenge and with it death, yet it seemed his uncle was too much a coward.
Cole continued to argue, ignoring Aemond as he stood to his full height, equal anger in his tone. "They hold the King hostage, my prince. Your mother-."
"I am your commander!" Aemond yelled, grabbing Cole's collar and yanking the man until they were face to face. "You obey me."
Cole glared defiantly, his hands tearing into Aemond's. There was something in Cole's eyes, something that had Aemond shoving the man away. When he was a boy he used to care for Cole's opinion, desperately craving for his approval, even more than his father's. Criston Cole was the only father figure who was ever present in his life, not Viserys and certainly not Otto. So it stung to see him look at Aemond like he was a disappointment, like he was Aegon.
But what more was there for him to lose?
"If you wish to drive yourself mad, then so be it. I have a duty to my King and the Queen Mother and I shall do it." Cole stated calmly.
He watched as the Hand left the room, frustration killing from the inside. Cole paused, faltering. It was as if he had more to say. "Aemond ..."
The glower he sent spoke of excruciating pain.
Cole made up his mind and departed.
Unable to control the anger, Aemond threw the table across the room, kicking and screaming until the room was nothing but splintered wood and broken pieces.
The next night Harrenhal was devoid of the army. Cole kept true to his word and Aemond kept his. He continued to burn the Riverlands. Soil was scorched and many fields turned barren.
It did nothing to quell the ache of a wound that was never really healing.
When he wasn't blazing the realm in flames, Aemond was drowning himself in liquor.
"Should you need more ale, my prince, I can gather more?" The servant questioned, a mocking tilt on her lips. The woman was supposedly a Strong bastard sired by Lyonel. She certainly had the look, reminiscent of his bastard nephews.
Aemond pondered why he kept her alive. He had all Strong members killed the moment he took the castle, so why was it that she survived his slaughter?
She asked the question again, smirking openly now.
YOU ARE READING
The Passion of a Thousand Suns | Aemond Targaryen
Fanfiction❛❛ Aemond yearned for her, that much she knew. It was a pity duty held a crown over her head, for Hira would have gladly fallen into his desire. ❜❜ - Hira, known to the Seven Kingdoms as Daemon's bastard daughter. In Leng, a Princess, a daughter of...
