𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 ¹ ✔︎ ━ 𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖮𝖥 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖱𝖠𝖦𝖮𝖭

𝐓𝐄𝐍 ♛ 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄

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TEN;
『 AN EYE FOR AN EYE 』

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ㅤ ALL I FEEL is pain. My neck, my arms, my legs. My entire body is weak. My head is pounding, my heart is racing. Even the thought of opening my eyes makes my head hurt. I must fight, I know this. My eyes flutter open. Darkness. My arms are chained to either side of the wall. I cannot move them. I try, but I cannot.

My dream. I think. My dream was like this, the one where Sermond...

A candle is lit in front of me. A head of white hair and a repulsive face. Daemon. He crouches in front of me, surveying me. I try to speak but I cannot. I want to scream and yell but I cannot. Nothing comes from my throat.

"You've been given a Wolfsage mixture to relieve your pain. You cannot speak, as it cures your body. One of the unfortunate side effects, I'm afraid." His voice is revolting. He extends his hand and brushes my braid behind my shoulder. My lip lifts at his touch.

"You have many questions, I know, dear niece. You are at the hull of my ship. I knocked you out and brought you here. Why? To give you a choice. You can either work with me, from the inside, and kill Rhaenyra, or you can resist." He explains to me. His breath is so close I can feel it on my face. I want to spit at him, slap him, do something.

"You're thinking, Daemon, you imbecile! I would never join you! Oh, but you would, given the right reason to." He says, standing on his feet. I keep my eyes wide open. He walks to the center of the room, where a body hangs from the ceiling, chained and tied down. His bare torso is covered in blood and dirt. Daemon turns him on his chains to face me.

"And it seems I've found the perfect bribe." He says. He places the candle on a nearby cart, which is lined with weapons. I try to scream. I cannot. My heart pounds in my chest. No, no, no. Do not hurt him! I yell. I'm not heard.

"I want you to work on my side, I want you to get me into the Red Keep, and I want you to get me close to Rhaenyra so that I may kill her." He says impatiently. His back his turned to me, but I can only imagine the look on his face. I look to Sermond, who dangles from the ceiling, fighting for breath. There are so many gashes and wounds on him. I cannot begin to imagine how long he's been down here, how long I've been asleep.

Daemon turns to face me, holding what seems to be a small pot. He swishes the liquid around in his hands as he stares into the bowl.