wicked games | aemond targaryen

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢

"YOU'RE PLOTTING," VALAENA commented from her chair in front of the fire, turning the page of her book as she briefly glanced up at her father, who had yet to stop pacing since they returned from dinner.

He stopped in his steps, lips pursing as he turned to meet her gaze. She raised an eyebrow at the look behind his eyes, closing the book as she leaned forward curiously.

"Who are you plotting to kill this time?" she questioned. "Is it finally Otto Hightower?"

"There is no plotting happening at the moment," Daemon told her with a sigh as he walked up to the fire, leaning against the mantle as the shadows of the flames danced across his face.

"Right," Valaena snorted as she leaned back in her chair. "And I'm the best dragon rider in Westeros. Seriously, who is it? Tyland Lannister?"

Daemon didn't answer as she gauged his reaction, continuing to list names.

"Hmm, Laris Strong? Alicent Hightower?" She continued to list off names to no response. "Aemond?"

Daemon's eye twitched as the name as Valaena paused her questioning.

"Seriously?" she asked in disbelief. "That's who you're spending all this time pacing about?"

"I told you, there's no plotting of murder going on," Daemon repeated as he pushed away from the mantle to face her.

"Oh, please," Valaena rolled her eyes at him. "You'd have a better time trying to stop me from setting the library on fire."

"Besides," she continued before he could respond. "You're not allowed to kill Aemond. I've already laid claim to that."

"You've laid claim?" Daemon raised an eyebrow at her words.

"Yeah," Valaena replied with a firm nod. "I'm the only one who gets to plot his murder. I've done it a hundred times in my head already. Now it's just a matter of execution-"

Daemon let out something between a scoff and a laugh as she began muttering to herself again, though a flicker of relief softened his expression.

"Besides," Valaena continued as she reopened her book, paging through to find where she had left off. "Why would you even want to murder Aemond, besides him an annoying prat."

She missed the look her father gave her as she settled back into the cushions, the fire crackling softly as silence settled over the room.

A moment passed. Then another.

"We should go down to the dragon pits tomorrow," Daemon said at last, breaking the silence that had taken over.

Valaena's eyes snapped up, panic bubbling in her chest at his words. It had been a long time since Daemon had even suggested dragons to Valaena, much less going down to the dragon pits to claim one. Her mind flashed with memories of dragon flames and the scent of burning flesh, the image of her stepmother forever engrained in her brain.

"The dragon pits?" she questioned, hoping her voice didn't shake as much as she thought it did.

"It's been a while since we've gone," Daemon told her, the look in his eyes telling her he was serious. It was not a suggestion, that much she knew.

"Okay," Valaena felt the words stick to her throat as she spoke. "Let's do it."

⁂           ⁂          ⁂

Hiding between the bookshelves of the library wasn't exactly how Valaena intended to spend her morning, but anything was better than being led down to the dragon pits. Besides, she didn't mind going through the many books in the royal collection, sitting between the bookshelves with a book in her lap as she read about war plans and historic battles in Westeros.