Love Is The Death Of Duty • Aemond Targaryen

19.

Hidden away in the depths of Dragonstone's library, the flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows across the ancient tomes that line the shelves. Maegor is consumed by the weight of history as he pores over books detailing the lore and legends of the North. Sleep evades him as he seeks solace in the pages, his mind restless and burdened by the events that have unfolded in recent weeks.

Him and Aemond only had two days to spare in the Stepstones before they had to depart and return to their duties of maintaining relative stability. Separating once again was excruciating for both of them. And Maegor is slowly losing hope of seeing the day where they won't have to be apart anymore. The ache of their parting lingers like a persistent ghost, haunting him even in the sanctuary of the library.

With everything that happened within his family, Maegor finds comfort only at such hours, under the cover of darkness. Everything is tensed between him and Jace, so he tries to avoid him as much as he can. On the other hand, Rhaenyra treats him like he's not even there, ignoring him whenever they accidentally come across each other within the halls of the castle - albeit it's not that often.  

Yet, amidst the tension and discord, Maegor finds solace in the company of his youngest siblings Aegon III and Viserys II. They still seek him out whenever they can, either begging him to show them tricks with the sword, teach them high valyrian or take them to see the Cannibal from a safe distance.

 Never once has Maegor refused to indulge them. Spending time with them and witnessing their childish innocence has been a welcomed distraction. He feels useful to his family by doing this and if he can't bond as much with his half brothers, he won't miss the chance of doing with his full siblings.

Lost deep in his thoughts, the young Prince doesn't even hear the large wooden door of the library open with a creak.

"It's past your schooling hours, boy." Daemon's sudden voice startles him and Maegor flinches in his chair.

"Father." Maegor greets, his relief evident as he relaxes back into his seat.

Despite the late hour, Daemon's presence brings a sense of familiarity and comfort to the dimly lit room.

"Get some rest, you have a long journey ahead of you in the morn'."

"Can't sleep and I see you can't either." Maegor rubs at the throbbing ache in his temples before giving his father a knowing look.

Daemon let's out a low chuckle. His son, always so perceptive. Maybe he shouldn't have taught him everything he knows. He has a feeling one day it might come back to bite him.

"What are you reading?" The Rogue Prince inquires, his curiosity piqued by the array of tomes that surround him.

Daemon's keen gaze sweeps over the books spread out before Maegor, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Taking a seat beside his son, Daemon settles into the ornate chair.

"Anything I could find about the North." Maegor replies with a tinge of frustration in his voice that Daemon immediately picks up.

 It's clear that his studying session hasn't been as fruitful as he would've hoped for. 

"I could use some of your wisdom now, father." Maegor adds, his tone earnest as he looks to Daemon for guidance.

"You've been ignoring all of my wisdom this past year, boy. Now you're asking for it?" Daemon lets out a snort, his lips twitching with amusement at his son's request.

His response is laced with playful banter, his teasing tone a familiar refrain in their interactions. Yet, beneath the jest, there is a genuine warmth in Daemon's gaze, a silent acknowledgment.