Led By Fiery Passion { Aemond Targaryen}

Part 57

It took hardly any time to reach his destination. He soared around it on Vhagar, releasing a powerful roar that announced their presence. Aemond swallowed hard, mentally replaying the scenarios that could unfold—most of which ended with him meeting a grim fate at the hands of Daemon. But as they landed, he retrieved the remnants of a cloak from his bag. Soon, he spotted a figure with long white hair rushing down the stone steps, followed closely by a guard. He squinted, needing a moment to confirm it was Rhaenyra and not Aenyra. It struck him then just how strikingly alike they were.

"Aemond?" she called out hesitantly. He recognized the guard immediately but refocused his gaze on Rhaenyra.

As he closed the distance between them, his nerves were frayed. Yet he had come all this way to do at least one thing right..for Aenyra.

"Aemond, why are you here?" Rhaenyra's voice was a blend of surprise and caution. She scrutinized him closely, searching for any hint of hostility or lingering resentment from their tumultuous past. The tension in the room was palpable, thick with unspoken words.

"I—I came to find you," Aemond stammered, his heart racing. The cloak he held felt heavy in his hands, burdened with the memories of just a few hours prior. "I need to speak with you about Lucerys."

Rhaenyra's expression shifted as concern etched deeper lines on her brow. "Lucerys?" She whispered out barely above a whisper, the air caught in her throat as his name spilled past her lips. Her guard, Ser Erryk, stayed on high alert, ready to act if needed, but Rhaenyra's gaze remained fixed on Aemond, demanding me

With a deep breath, Aemond stepped closer and revealed the cloak. Rhaenyra's expression morphed into one of confusion and horror as she snatched it from him. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. "It was Aegon..." Aemond said, his heart heavy as he watched Rhaenyra expression falter before him—a sight he never thought he would witness.

"Aegon did this?" Rhaenyra asked through gritted teeth, her brow knitting together as unshed tears formed in her eye. she fought to regain her composure.

Aemond remained silent, giving a slight nod in response. Rhaenyra tightened her grip on the cloak she held. "Can you give me a moment?" she requested. He watched as she walked a few paces down the sandy beach before suddenly collapsing to her knees. Aemond instinctively took a step closer, but the quiet sounds of her sobs froze him in place.

He glanced at the imposing black castle where Aenyra  and her family had resided for the past few years, he noticed only guards were stationed at their posts; Daemon and the rest of the family were nowhere to be seen. After releasing a deep breath, he approached her, stopping just behind her as Rhaenyra buried her face in the cloak, her cries becoming muffled.

"Rhaenyra, I—I don't want to presume to know your pain, and I'm not entirely sure what Aenyra has shared with you, if anything at all. But we can't afford to waste time; we need to talk."

With that, Rhaenyra rose quietly, brushing the sand from her black dress and wiping the last traces of tears from her cheeks. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to him. "Yes, we do need to speak. Follow me." She began to lead the way toward the castle, and Aemond took in his surroundings, searching for any sign of Aenyra.

"She's not here," Rhaenyra said without looking back, as though she could sense who he was searching for. "She was sent to Winterfell to meet with Lord Stark." Only then did she turn around to gauge his reaction.

Rhaenyra studied him intently, catching the flicker of jealous beneath his stoic facade. "You care for her deeply." she observed, her voice softer than before. "This way, we are almost to there." She turned to continued down the cold corridors before he could respond.