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Everything is for his beloved.
Also TW for gore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Aemond reminded himself to breathe.
This was, without a doubt, the hardest battle he has ever fought.
Worse than finding his beloved on the Sept steps. Far worse.
And the tension between them, in his quiet room and her quieter still, weighed like the heaviest stones.
His beloved was barely awake. The milk of the poppy and her exhaustion--her trauma--fought for control. His rage simmered just under his skin, hot like a new blade and twice as sharp. He wanted answers. But first, he needed to assess the damage.
Liliyana's brother wrapped what he could; Aemond assumed the worst was covered. His hand ghosted over her arm. The bloodied gauze crinkled against the lit candles in his room. Soaked completely through.
"Liliyana," he began, quietly. "I'm going to remove your bandages."
She curled in her dry lips and wet them. Made a sound in the back of her throat but Aemond could hardly hear it over his raging heart. "But the child," she mumbled.
"What child?"
A sob took over her face, distorted her beautiful features into a mushy mess.
"Shh," Aemond tried. "It's alright. You are safe."
But she had not been. And Aemond, restless and shameful as he was, prowled Flea Bottom tonight. Looked at everything and rounded every corner to try and tame his thoughts. He and his beloved had been set to move forward. To speak about his misdeeds and betrayal of her heart. He hurt her. And it broke his very soul.
He steadied his hands and touched her arm. She did not react. Her heavy eyelids slowly blinked. When she did show her eyes, briefly, they were darkened and red-rimed from her crying. Gods, what happened?
With another breath, Aemond began removing the wraps. He locked eyes with her as he did so, careful to not go too fast. When he removed the bandages completely and tossed them aside, he felt brave enough to look.
Blood still oozed, along with clear, liquid like water. Some inches wide, her skin was completely gone. Flayed like an animal.
Aemond breathed in and pressed his fingers against the skin that was not gone. The candlelight revealed the extent of the damage: under the blood pouring out, Aemond could see her bone, white as snow. Around it was muscle, pulsing and ticking away.
Aemond was no maester, and despite researching injuries and wounds on his own in his spare time, he had no idea how to fix this. Stitches would rip apart. The wound was too wide for such a thing. Liliyana would need extensive treatment.
"It was a knife."
Aemond looked up. Her eyes were on her wound. Something of a smile graced her lips. "Don't look," he told her, perhaps too harshly. But she did not need to see that. He could not imagine the pain she was in. For now, the least he could do was make her comfortable.
"Why?" she asked. "I saw it being done."
Aemond gripped her hands and held them to his chest. Watched from the corner of her eye as blood fell down her arm. "Who?"
She gently shook her head. Another sob ricocheted down her form. "Two men. They came from the shadows and pinned me to the ground. Took my skin. Said it would..."
"Would what?" Aemond's voice was a demand.
"Would hurt you." Another sob broke her form and she sank into his chest.
Aemond circled his arms around her back and cradled her in his lap. "You're safe now."
He felt her shake her head. "You don't know that," she mumbled. "They killed him."
Aemond's heart fell. "Who did they kill, Liliyana?"
Her eyes went wide. Glazed over like sugared pastries. "The prince. Helaena's son is dead!"
