Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 3

Aemond, where could you have gone?

The stone halls of the Red Keep echoed softly with Aenyra's hurried footsteps. She had lost track of Aemond after confronting Aegon and her younger brothers over their cruel joke in the dragonpit. Her heart pounded—not from the running, but from worry. He had looked so hurt. So broken.

She searched the gardens first, then the training yard. Nothing. With her brow furrowed and chest tight, she paused for a moment, catching her breath.

If I were Aemond... where would I go? It's getting to cool outside to be under the tree..

Then it struck her.

The next best place would be, the library.

Of course.

It was their second favorite place. A sanctuary inside the castle, away from mocking tongues and judgmental eyes—a world of parchment and ink where no one expected them to be anything other than curious and quiet. She turned on her heel and made her way there, weaving through the towering doors and into the vast, candle-lit room.

The further she ventured into its depths, the more familiar it felt, until at last she reached the little alcove tucked beneath a high stained glass window—their spot. She slowed her pace when she spotted him.

Aemond sat hunched over a book, though his eyes were barely scanning the pages. His fingers fidgeted with the corner of the parchment, and his sleeve was damp from the tears he tried so hard to wipe away without making a sound.

"Aemond..." Aenyra whispered softly, just enough for him to hear.

He startled slightly, then quickly turned his face away. "I'm not crying," he muttered. "Just got dust in my eyes when I left the pit."

She didn't believe him, but she didn't press. Quietly, she walked over and sat beside him, gently brushing her fingers through his silver hair. Then, with a soft tug, she motioned for him to lay his head in her lap.

He hesitated for only a moment before complying, lowering himself with a sigh. Aenyra settled her hands in his hair and began weaving her fingers through the soft strands, mirroring the way he often did for her when she was upset.

They sat in silence for a time, the only sound the faint crackle of candlelight and the soft creak of old books.

"I shoved Aegon," she said finally, her voice hushed but fierce. "Yelled at him and my brothers, too. It was a cruel joke. Completely unnecessary."

Aemond gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, his eyes closed, lashes still damp.

"I don't want them getting away with teasing you like that," she continued. "I plan to tell my mother and father."

Aemond sat up abruptly, startling her.

"Don't bother," he said sharply, his voice laced with determination. "I'm going to claim a dragon."

Aenyra blinked. "You what?"

"I will claim one," he said again, with more conviction. "I'm tired of waiting. Come on." He stood and held out a hand to her.

Aenyra didn't hesitate. She reached up and took it. "I'll always come with you Aemond." He smiled and tugged her up.

They slipped through the quiet corridors of the Red Keep and made their way toward the dragonpit under cover of dusk. Dodging dragonkeepers and taking lesser-known passages, they crept deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine tunnels of the cavernous pit, where the air grew thick with smoke and warmth.