The Realms Rose | Aemond Targaryen / Daemon Targaryen

LII

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Aurora watched him as he slumbered, a mix of emotions stirring within her. Aemond was a warrior, a powerful prince, but here in her arms, he looked so much younger, so vulnerable.

Her fingers continued to stroke his hair, the gesture more a soothing one for her than for him now that he was sleeping.

Aemond's brow furrowed in his sleep, his expression tight with some nameless worry. He gripped at her hips, his fingers clutching the fabric of her nightclothes tightly, as if seeking comfort even in his dreams.

Aemond began to mutter in his sleep, fragmented words and incoherent phrases escaping his lips. He shifted slightly, his head nuzzling further into her chest, a soft, almost pleading sound leaving him.

Aurora continued to soothe him, the steady rhythm of her hand in his hair, the soft words of comfort she whispered into his ear.

As Aurora tried to extract herself from beneath Aemond, her movement seemed to disturb him slightly. His hands gripped her tighter as he grumbled sleepily, his head shifting as he muttered a faint. "Stay."

Aurora paused, her heart swelling at the neediness in his voice. He sounded so vulnerable, so childlike in his need for her presence.

She leaned down and gently kissed to his lips. "I'm not going far." She whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "I just need to speak with someone. I'll be back before you know it."

Aemond's grip on her hips loosened slightly, as if he reluctantly accepted her words. He muttered something unintelligible, something that sounded like a protest, but in his exhaustion, he was unable to rouse himself fully.

His eyes remained closed, his breath steady, as Aurora gently disentangled herself from his embrace and carefully left the bed.

Aurora felt a twinge of guilt as she left Aemond's side, the sight of him asleep and vulnerable gnawing at her conscience. But she knew this was something she had to do, this conversation with the witch, no matter how much it ached to part from him.

With a final glance back at the sleeping prince, she quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As Aurora stepped out into the hallway, she paused for a moment, taking a moment to steady her emotions before proceeding further. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation to come, and then continued down the hall, her footsteps soft and purposeful.

The halls of the Red Keep seemed strangely deserted as Aurora made her way through them. This warly in the morning, most of the castle's inhabitants were usually abed, but there were the occasional servants or guards she encountered, all of whom gave her either curious or indifferent glances.

She passed by them all with quick nods of greeting, her mind entirely focused on the task at hand. The witch. She had to find the witch.

After several corridors and a few flights of stairs, Aurora finally arrived at the door of the witch's chambers. The room was located in one of the remote parts of the castle, as far away from the main halls as possible.

She paused, her hand lifted to knock on the door. The sound of her own heart thudding in her chest seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness of the corridor.

Her knock echoed in the silence, the sound harsh and sudden. For a long moment, no reply came. Aurora began to wonder if the witch was even in her rooms, or perhaps she was simply ignoring her.

Just as she was about to knock again, the door suddenly creaked open.

Alys stood in the doorway, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the sunlight peering in behind her.