𝙺𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽 ° aemond targaryen

Act Three, Scene One

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"𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎"
𝟷𝟸𝟾 𝙰𝙲 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙
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HIS MIND WAS ELSEWHERE AS he sat beside the fire, the orange light flickering across his face and glistening off the sapphire that sat in his left socket. He had barely left the room since his return from Storm's End: the guilt of not only Lucerys' death but also the fact that his pride was the reason his wife was not with him weighed heavily on him.

Aemond hated himself, now more than ever. The last time he even felt close to self loathing as he did now was when his eye was taken, and he had to identify himself once again within his family. But now, he had started a war. He had killed his nephew and—though indirectly—his wife in this same night.

He knew it was wrong of him to blame himself for what happened to Vaella, especially since he had no way of knowing she had followed him into the storm. Then again, if he had not chased Luke, then she would not have chased him.

A soft knock echoed across his empty chambers mere moments before the wooden door was open. The boy did not even glance in the direction of the new arrival, choosing to keep his eye on the flickering flames before him as he twiddled with a small dagger between his fingers.

"Aemond," The gentle voice of his mother had called him, her brows furrowed together as she looked at the back of her son's frame. He was worrying her to no end—as far as she had been aware, he was hardly eating and was only seen leaving his chambers to fly out over the ocean on Vhaegar. "Will you speak to me?"

The white haired boy tilted his head in her direction, but only in simple acknowledgment that he had heard her before he turned away again. Perhaps a small part of him blames his mother for the entire thing, though he knew she had nothing to do with it; she was simply the deliverer of bad news.

      "We do not know if she is de-"

      "Just...stop, mother." He said lowly, though he might as well have screamed by how his voice echoed back to him off the walls of the quiet room. Aemond looked at the woman over his shoulder, only meeting her gaze for a moment before his eye fell to the floor. "Just stop."

      "You know I speak the truth," She said plainly, moving to sit on the bench beside her second son. "No reports have been brought to us about...anything washing ashore."

      "She could have sank," He said, his gaze back on the flickering fire as he pressed the tip of the blade into his finger, the point drawing a small amount of blood. "Filled her lungs with so much water that she just...sank."

       Alicent's eyes widened as she looked at her boy. "Do not think like that. We do not know for sure what happened."

The boy stood so quickly that it made the woman jump, her eyes trailing his figure as he approached the fireplace, leaning against the mantle as he let the heat wash over him. His tense shoulders sagged slightly as he let out a deep sigh, tossing the knife from his grip and to the floor.

"All I know..." Aemond spoke much softer than before, his voice wobbling ever so slightly as his composure slowly started to break. "Is that Vaella followed me out into that storm...and she has not returned."

When he slowly turned to face his mother, her heart broke at the sight of tears lining his eye, though he refused to let them fall. It took her mind back to all those times he had ran to her after Aegon had pushed his teasing too far—it was a look he had hidden away for years now.

"She is gone...because of me." His voice cracked slightly, but he continued. "My child is gone...because of me. And I will not stop until I find them." His tone lowered as he looked at the flames once more. "Dead or alive."

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     The breeze that blew through the stone room was cold, biting down through the thin fabric covering the girl and racking her body with a shiver. A huff left her cracked lips as she curled closer to herself.

      She was numb, both physically and emotionally. She knew nothing about what was happening on the outside of the small cell she had been kept in, carved in the cliffs of Dragonstone. All she knew was this...

      One: She had followed Aemond into the storm, and the rain had caused her to slip from Meraxes' back and into the raging waters.

      Two: She had been in and out of consciousness since then, only remembering bits and pieces. She could recall her blood father finding her washed ashore, but she had no idea how long it had been. She could somewhat recall blurry faces surrounding her, but a vial of milk of the poppy had been shoved between her lips and her vision had gone black again.

      Three: Her body ached uncontrollably. The hand that was not holding her thin dress closer to her was brushing against her stomach, which had been the main source of her pain.

      And four: no one would tell her where her child was.

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