Born to Die

Chapter 43

Rhaenyra had rushed out of the throne room behind the maesters and Daemon. Aegon let out a pent up breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Aemond's tears had dried, but he still refused to let go of Alicent's body. Helaena gave a small wave to Jace, and he returned her wave and a small smile.

Aemeryn stared at the ceiling as three dragons roared outside. Caraxes hadn't stopped screeching since Daemon had been hurt, and Aemeryn had missed his initial screech due to the shock of Ser Arryk's death. She sought Jace out as she finally recognized the other two dragons- Moondancer and Silverwing. Jace was already running across the room to his sister in a panic.

"Why are they roaring?" Jace demanded as he took Aemeryn's arms in his hands. His brown eyes scanned her face quickly to catch any and every reaction under her blood and tear stained skin. More footfalls came running into the throne room, and Aemeryn closed her eyes. She was so tired of hearing people running.

"Lord Jacaerys," a gruff voice announced from the doorway. Jace turned and stared at the Velaryon soldier in front of him.

"Yes?"

The man cleared his throat and looked at Aegon uncomfortably. Aegon rolled his eyes and sighed. "Do I look like Jace to you?"

Aemeryn tried to stifle her grin; she definitely should not be grinning at a time like this. Helaena smacked Aegon's arm with a scowl. The man was obviously concerned that Aegon was still standing in front of the Iron Throne and not Rhaenyra.

"It's about your wife, my lord, and her sister."

Aemeryn's grin vanished, and Jace squeezed her arms so hard that she thought he was going to break them. "What about my wife and her sister?"

"Lady Baela has been gravely injured, my lord. We have already found a maester to tend to her wounds. She is in a house not far from where we were fighting." The soldier had barely gotten the sentence out before Jace was already trying to run out of the room.

"What about Rhaena?" Aemeryn asked as she took a step toward the man. His green eyes met hers, and she knew immediately. "Take me to her."

Aemeryn followed him through the streets of King's Landing and wished he would walk faster. The dead littered the ground, and the poor man seemed like he was going to be sick everytime he had to dodge one. Her heart seemed to beat faster with every step closer she took to her sister.

"I'm sorry, Princess," the man said once he finally stopped walking. He was staring into the distance ahead, and Aemeryn looked down. Rhaena. She looked almost peaceful, like she was simply sleeping. Aemeryn could almost convince herself that she was if it wasn't for the fact that her neck had been cut open so violently that her head was barely attached to her shoulders. Blood was smeared on her eyelids, so someone had evidently closed them for her after death.

"Take her to the dungeon under the Red Keep to be prepared for burial," Aemeryn whispered as she turned and began to wander the streets of King's Landing. All she wanted to do was fly away from here. She wanted to go back in time to before Viserys died when her family was happy. Stone turned to sand under her feet, and Aemeryn looked out to the waves in front of her. Vermithor landed beside her and chittered softly. He could feel her sadness through their bond and nudged her gently with his snout. If a dragon could truly feel fear, then that is what Vermithor would be feeling. The last time he had felt this from her, she commanded him to kill her. Instead, she climbed on his back and commanded him to fly. She was bringing those children home.

Elizabeth answered the door with a startled cry. Aemeryn stood at the threshold and simply stared at the young girl. Elizabeth took in her appearance and tried to hold back the bile climbing up her throat. Daemon's dried blood coated her face still, and blood was crusting on her black armor.