The Flames We Bear

Chapter 16 - Aemond

The night air was heavy, restless, just like me. My mind refused to settle, thoughts of the day circling like vultures. I had spent the better part of it dodging Visenya, navigating our marriage like some delicate dance, one I wasn't sure I wanted to partake in. Still, despite myself, I couldn't help but wonder where she was now. Her absence since dinner had not gone unnoticed, and it gnawed at me.

I wandered through the halls of the Red Keep, the silence thick, pressing in on me. When I passed her chambers, I noticed the door slightly ajar. Curious. It was late, and she wasn't one to leave her rooms this time of night—or so I thought. I pushed the door open further, but the room was empty. Something stirred in my chest, an irritation, maybe, or something else I wasn't willing to name.

Of course, she would be difficult. Of course, she couldn't stay where she was supposed to. With an exhale, I turned away, already knowing where she'd gone.

The dragonpit.

She had always found solace there, even as a child, retreating to her dragon when the weight of court became too much. I quickened my pace, my boots echoing off the stone floors. There was something unsettling about her being alone at this hour, though I couldn't quite put my finger on why it bothered me so much.

When I reached the pit, I found her almost immediately, standing by her dragon, its massive form looming behind her. She didn't see me at first. Her long, curly hair was loose, falling around her shoulders, her nightgown a stark contrast to the rough stone and the beast beside her. It was the most unguarded I had seen her in years, and I paused, watching her for a moment.

She was speaking to her dragon, her voice low, the words serious. I crept closer, listening.

"I don't know what to make of all this, you know? Aemond's impossible to read," she said, her tone laced with frustration.

I smirked, leaning against the wall. Impossible to read? Good. I've spent years perfecting that.

"If only it were that simple," she continued, almost wistfully. "Maybe I'd just burn him alive."

I stifled a laugh at the absurdity. This was what she thought of me—fire and destruction. Fair enough. She had every reason to feel that way.

Her dragon let out a low rumble in response, though it seemed more out of boredom than anything else. Visenya sighed, her tone shifting as she continued her one-sided conversation.

"Does he ever smile? Or is that smirk all I'm ever going to get?" She chuckled, shaking her head.

I stayed hidden, amused at her words. So, she had noticed my smirk. I supposed it had made more of an impression than I intended.

"I'm serious," she went on, her voice lightening as if she was telling a joke. "He's always so damn perfect. How does anyone manage that?"

That gave me pause. Perfect? Hardly. But I kept listening, intrigued by the way she spoke so freely to her dragon. She had no idea I was watching her, hearing every word, and that gave me an advantage I wasn't sure I deserved.

She sighed again, her hand resting on her dragon's massive snout. "Maybe I should just grow old with you, hmm? Forget this whole 'marriage' nonsense."

For a brief moment, her words struck something in me, something deeper than amusement. It was fleeting, but real. The idea that she might actually want that—to escape this farce of a marriage. Was that truly what she thought?

I stepped forward, making my presence known. My boots clanged against the stone, and she spun around, eyes wide in surprise when she saw me.

"Talking to dragons again?" I drawled, the smirk she apparently knew so well tugging at the corner of my lips.

Her shock quickly gave way to her usual composure. "Aemond," she greeted, her voice more controlled than I expected. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged, stepping closer. "I could ask you the same thing. But I suppose it's only natural for you to be here. With your dragon. Having a... heart-to-heart, was it?"

Her eyes narrowed, but there was no real bite in her glare. "Were you spying on me?"

"Hardly," I said, stopping just a few paces from her. "But you should be more careful. The walls have ears."

She crossed her arms over her chest, the nightgown shifting slightly with the movement, drawing my attention momentarily. "Or perhaps it's just you who can't help but follow me around."

I chuckled softly, amused by her quick wit. "Maybe. Or perhaps I was just curious to see what you say when you think no one is listening."

She rolled her eyes, her guard slipping just for a moment, enough for me to see the humor in her expression. "You're impossible," she muttered, turning back to her dragon as if dismissing me.

I wasn't ready to be dismissed.

"You should be more careful with your words, Visenya," I teased, stepping closer. "Especially when you're discussing me."

She didn't look at me, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. "I'll say what I please," she replied evenly, though there was a challenge in her voice.

I smirked again, unable to help myself. "Then at least say something interesting."

She glanced at me then, her eyes narrowing again, but there was no real malice there. Only the sharpness I had come to admire. It was easy to forget sometimes, how alike we were—two blades honed by fire and expectation. Two people who understood what it meant to be watched, judged, underestimated.

I could see it now, the exhaustion behind her eyes. She had been through enough today, and despite everything, I found myself softening, just a little. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as unreadable as I had thought.

But there was time for that later. For now, I'd let her think she had the upper hand, let her believe I was just the cold, unreadable Aemond she assumed me to be.

I stepped back, watching her one last time as she turned her attention back to her dragon. The night was still young, and I had learned more than enough for now.

With a final glance at her, I turned on my heel, leaving her to her thoughts—and me to mine.