Into the Dragon's Den

Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me

Aemond was gone when she woke in the morning. She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep. A piece of parchment lay on the table beside the bed, along with her dagger, which no longer bore evidence of the previous day's events.

Laena,

You're a dragon. It will get easier.

She snorted and tossed the parchment back on her table. Aemond probably thought that little message was supposed to be comforting. Still, it surprised her how kind he had been; he had even stayed with her up until she fell asleep. The thought that he had done something caring for her, without ulterior motives, left her feeling unsettled. She did feel much better though, sleep had helped wash some of the unsettling feeling from her stomach.

Recalling the previous day's events brought it back and she fought the urge to vomit. Laena twisted her hair around her hands and wrapped it around her crown, securing it with pins, not wanting to face the reminder of the man shoving his hand into her curls. She took a deep breath and swallowed down the memory like one of those disgusting tonics the maesters made her drink when she had a fever. Then she took a deep breath and continued on with dressing herself. She could do this...

Laena tugged on her trousers, a cotton shirt, a waistcoat, and a surcoat, hoping the layers would help her feel less exposed. They didn't. She laced her boots and took one last look in the mirror. Her cheek was heavily bruised and she pressed her finger against the tiny cut, wincing. Just looking at it churned her stomach and she gulped down the bile rising in her throat. Don't think about it. It's over, you're safe...

Laena desperately needed something, anything, to distract her. She made her way to her mother's apartments to join her family for breakfast.

"Laena! Are you alright? What in the name of the seven happened to your face?" Baela asked, staring wide-eyed at Laena's cheek. In truth, Laena's wrist hurt more than her cheek, but she didn't dare tell her cousin that. She would see the maester in private.

"I fell running up the stairs," the lie fell from Laena's lips with surprising ease. Rhaenyra lifted her chin to inspect her face.

"You should be more careful, my love," she said. Laena murmured her agreement and sat down at the table. Part of her wanted to tell her mother the truth, but if she did, she would never again be allowed to the dragonpit without a full escort.

She picked at her plate, her appetite nowhere to be found, and her mother watched her with concern. Laena noticed the pointed look Rhaenyra gave Daemon and knew another lecture was sure to follow. Following breakfast, her father did exactly as she expected, pulling her aside.

"Alright, girl, the truth of it," he growled. "Don't tell me you fell on the stairs. I'm not fucking stupid."

"You can't tell mother," she told him in a panic. His eyebrows rose in surprise but eventually he nodded in agreement. "I was attacked in King's Landing—"

"You were attacked?" His face immediately contorted with anger and he instinctively gripped the hilt of Dark Sister.

"Father, let me finish..." she insisted. "Aegon and I went flying and—" she swallowed, realizing if she told him the truth, he might kill her uncle for leaving her. "I wanted to race back to the keep. We got separated and—" She intended to only take a breath and then she burst into tears. In an instant, she was wrapped in Daemon's arms and he was swaying her gently back and forth.

"At least tell me you're alright. Tell me you weren't—" she shook her head.

"I stabbed him in the stomach; twisted the blade, like you always told me. I doubt he survived his injury..." Her words were muffled against his chest but they filled him with relief. If anything had happened to her, he might have burned the entire city to ash. She looked up at him with wet eyes. "Please don't tell mother. She'll never let me go to the dragonpit alone again."