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Fire. Fire had melted the armour into his skin, charred his flesh. King Aegon lay broken from his injuries at the battle of Rook's Rest. And Fern, beside him, felt her heart tear at the sight. His pretty white hair was singed, bandages wrapped around his mangled flesh. She couldn't think straight. Since he'd come back, she had scarcely slept or eaten. She'd stayed at his side, day and night, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was alive, she reminded herself. He was still alive. He was in horrific pain. He may never walk again. But he was alive. For now at least. So long as the maesters could just keep him alive... She didn't notice the door open or the confident stride of a newly crowned regent until Aemond's hand rested on her shoulder. "You need not fuss over him, Fern." He said in a smooth, cool, voice. He'd been like this since they'd gotten back. Icy. Perhaps even... Smug? Though she loathed to think that of him and was sure it was just her own paranoia. "He's still breathing." She whispered, not taking her eyes off of Aegon. Aemond hummed in agreement, not sounding fully pleased by that news. "He was so handsome." She said, eyes filling with tears that she refused to let out. Aemond raised an eyebrow at her, pulling his hand away. "He's not anymore." She glanced at him, frowning, but he seemed as calm and confident as ever. "You should clean yourself up, I want you at court today." "I can't... My place is with him." "He has no use for a concubine in his present condition." Aemond said flatly. Fern bit the inside of her cheek. She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing. "I suppose you're enjoying being regent?" Aemond didn't even have the decency to look offended or angry. With a cool, collected, tone he just said, "it suits me better than it suited him." At the disapproval in her expression, Aemond stepped closer slowly like a predator stalking it's prey. He reached out, softly touching her jaw, his single eye running over her face like he might devour her whole. Fern felt a chill run down her spine at the coldness in her gaze. This wasn't the person she knew, surely. It was hard to reconcile the sweet boy who'd brought her books with this man before her. "Poor little Fern," he said in a deceptively sinister tone, "your king has abandoned you." "Aemond-" His grip tightened on her jaw. "He was never good enough for you. Or for the throne." He turned her face, making her look at Aegon's charred body lying limp on the bed. "You're better off without him." "Do not say that." He scoffed, turning her face back sharply to look at him again. "No? Do you want to be tied to him? The whore for a cockless king?" Her brows furrowed and she shoved him back. Aemond took the push, turning his head slowly with a terrifying sharpness in his eye. Fern stood up in a blaze of frustration, shoving him back again. All the emotions inside her bubbled together. Her fear for Aegon. Her grief. Her anger at Aemond. Her hopelessness for herself. All of it burned and boiled together, swishing together in a pot of seething irritation that made her shove Aemond again and again. "How can you be so cruel? He trusted you! How can you-" Aemond grabbed her wrists, spinning her around until her back bumped into his chest. Her eyes widened as she struggled and wriggled and tried to kick at him. He leaned in, tightening his grip on her wrists as he whispered in her ear, "careful now, little Fern." "Let go of me!" He did. Only to run his hands slowly up her waist instead, leaning into the crook of her neck and the soft vanilla smell of her hair. "Aemond..." Her breath caught in her throat. "Say it again." He demanded. "Stop it." She said weakly as he kissed along her neck. "You don't want that." He whispered, tugging her closer so she could feel just how much he wanted her. "You want more than him. I know you do. You deserve to be treated like a queen." "Don't say that." "You were always meant to be mine. Not his. Just like the throne." "Aemond..." "You're not content to be his whore forever, I know it." He slid his hands up to her chest, biting a mark into her neck and making her moan. "I could give you more." "I'm Aegon's." He scoffed, leaning into her. "You're not his. You're not anyone's." She closed her eyes, nudging him. "And I don't belong to you." "Do you want me to tell you that I'm yours?" He whispered, voice low and hushed. "I have been since I first saw you as a boy." Her eyes shot open. She moved to look back at him but he held her still. "Let me have you." He pleaded. Fern looked over at Aegon's limp body. At the man she'd spent years loving. The man who'd pulled her from the gutter and given her a new life. She reached down to touch Aemond's hands, making his breath catch. He let go of his grip on her waist, letting her turn to face him. She softly reached up, touching his cheek. Never get attached, Cedra had told her. Use them as they use us. Survive. "Of course I will come to court, Aemond." She whispered, caressing his cheek. "It is only that I'm grieving. Forgive me." His brows furrowed as if the concept was odd and he wasn't sure exactly how to deal with her emotions. But when she asked for his forgiveness, his one eye widened just a fraction – enough to show he was still human after all. He nodded, touching her hand on his cheek and closing his eye. He kissed her palm. "Take your time, of course." He said quietly. "I'm not him." "I know you're not." He opened his eye, moving closer to rest his head against her's. "I can trust you, can't I Fern?" She nodded. "Always." He looked almost like a boy again. Looking at her like he was scared. Like he needed her. Then he straightened himself and once again looked cold and intimidating, all hints of his humanity lost behind... She wanted to call it a mask. But was it? She couldn't tell anymore. Maybe this was his true face now. This heartless creature in front of her. "I'll have a dress sent to your room." He said, his eye fixed on her face. "You don't have to–" But he'd already turned to stride off out of the room. Fern looked down at Aegon, her brows furrowed. Guilt suddenly stirred through her like she'd betrayed him – though she wasn't exactly sure why. She sat down, touching his hand softly. "Please wake up." She whispered, closing her eyes. "Please don't leave me here on my own."
