Veil of Shadows | Aemond Targaryen

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Visenya woke up the next morning to the gentle sound of the waves from Blackwater Bay lapping softly in the distance. The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow, the sunlight streaming through the window and casting a serene light across the chamber. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking as she adjusted to the brightness. She felt a profound sense of peace, a calmness that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Rubbing her eyes, she let out a long yawn and stretched her limbs, savoring the luxurious sensation of a restful sleep. It had been so long since she had felt this well-rested, free from the nightmares and restless tossing that had plagued her for the last weeks. As she stretched, the tension that had accumulated in her muscles seemed to melt away, replaced by a languid contentment.

She lay there for a moment, allowing herself to fully wake up, the memories of the previous night flooding back. She remembered the intense emotions, the way Aemond's touch had set her skin alight, the tenderness of his kiss, the way he held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. It was a memory she wanted to cling to, to hold close to her heart in the uncertain days ahead.

His touch had been like fire, igniting a longing she had tried to suppress for so long. The way he looked at her, with a mix of reverence and desire, made her feel cherished and seen in a way she had never experienced before. Each kiss had been a promise, each caress a silent vow. She remembered the way his fingers had traced the contours of her body, sending shivers down her spine and making her heart race. The tenderness in his touch contrasted sharply with the fierce passion that burned between them, creating a perfect balance that left her breathless.

But alongside the pleasure, there had been an undercurrent of anxiety. She had been nervous, her heart pounding with both excitement and fear. The walls she had built around her heart, the defenses she had maintained for so long, were crumbling under the weight of her feelings for Aemond. She had felt vulnerable, exposed, afraid that the intensity of her emotions might consume her. And yet, in his arms, she had found a sense of safety and belonging that made the risk worthwhile.

"Good morning," came a soft voice from across the room, and Visenya started in surprise. She hadn't realized she wasn't alone. Slowly, she turned her head towards the sound, her gaze falling on Aemond.

Visenya's hand instinctively went to her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart beneath her nightdress. Her mind raced, trying to process the unexpected sight of Aemond still there, as if he had intentionally chosen to linger. It was a change from his usual pattern, where he would depart quietly before dawn.

He was seated by the table, a scroll spread out before him, a quill in his hand. Beside him, a modest breakfast lay half-eaten, the aroma of fresh bread and fruit mingling pleasantly in the air.

"You're still here," she managed to say, her voice betraying a mix of astonishment and uncertainty. Her eyes flickered between his face and the scroll before him, searching for clues in his expression.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," she chuckled softly. Her hand moved to cover her mouth briefly, as if to stifle the nervous laughter that bubbled up unexpectedly.

Aemond looked up from his writing, meeting her gaze with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eye. There was a depth of emotion there that she couldn't decipher—something that spoke of vulnerability and an unspoken desire to bridge the gap that had long existed between them.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said gently, his voice carrying a hint of apology. He set down the quill and pushed the scroll aside, as if signaling that he was willing to set aside his duties for the moment.

Visenya shifted on the bed, feeling the softness of the mattress beneath her. She couldn't deny the rush of emotions swirling within her—surprise mingled with a flicker of hope, uncertainty tugging at the edges of her newfound calmness.