The Blue Princess ☆☽ Aemond Targaryen

CHAPTER TWELVE

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

"When the moon is lost, the stars will guide her back."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

❀ 122 AC ❀

Naerys stirred slowly, her senses dulled, drifting like a fragile wisp of smoke, as though she were suspended just outside her body. The world around her felt distant and fragmented, slipping through her grasp like a dream she could never quite catch. Faint dawn light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting soft, muted shapes across the walls that swayed gently, like shadowy figures caught in an eternal dance.

Her lashes fluttered weakly, a quiet whimper escaping as the light prodded her sore eyes. She squeezed them shut, the faint glow searing through her eyelids like the sharp edge of a knife. A soft groan escaped her, her head shifting weakly against the pillow, searching for relief from the dull ache pounding through her temples.

She lay curled on her side, her arms limp and unresponsive, as if they belonged to someone else entirely. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, pressing down on her chest with an invisible weight. Each shallow breath came like an effort, drawn through the sticky mist that clung to her lungs. A constant, dull throb pulsed in her skull, synchronized with the frantic beat of her heart.

A faint sound escaped her-a half-whine, half-sigh-as her lips trembled. She tried to shift, to move her aching body, but the weight of her exhaustion held her firmly in place. Turning her face away from the light, she buried her cheek deeper into the cool softness of the pillow, desperate for even the smallest moment of reprieve.

Then, like a balm for her frayed senses, she felt it-a hand, gentle yet steady, brushing softly through her hair. The touch was careful, deliberate, and achingly familiar. It brought with it a quiet comfort, a sense of safety she hadn't realized she'd been yearning for. Slowly, she exhaled, a shuddering breath slipping from her as she leaned into the touch. Her body seemed to release the tension that had coiled around her shoulders. Another faint sigh escaped her lips, the weight of it lifting her, if only for a moment.

Encouraged by the soothing rhythm of the hand in her hair, Naerys gradually blinked her eyes open. The world was a blur at first, the pale dawn light still too bright for her tender gaze. She winced, her eyelids fluttering shut once more before she tried again, allowing her eyes to adjust. Shapes slowly began to sharpen, though the light still caused faint pulses of discomfort in her temples.

Her gaze settled on him. Aemond. He sat beside her, propped against the headboard, his posture straight but relaxed, as though he were trying to remain steady for her. His eyes, sharp and piercing as always, softened as they met hers, a thread of concern pulling at the edges of his expression. His hand continued to brush through her hair, his long fingers threading gently between the strands, each motion slow and tender.

"You're awake," he murmured, his voice soft, almost hesitant. His thumb brushed gently over her temple in a soothing, rhythmic motion, the touch tender yet steady, like a lifeline extended to her in silence. "How do you feel?"

Naerys blinked slowly, her vision still hazy at the edges, though it began to clear as her eyes focused on Aemond's face. His expression held a tenderness that felt like a secret, something he reserved only for her. His gaze, steady and unwavering, carried a quiet warmth, the kind that seeped into the cracks of her unease. The concern in his violet eyes was palpable, pressing gently against the ache in her chest. Lines of worry faintly creased his brow, though his hand, still brushing through her hair, carried a calmness that seemed to anchor her.