Dreams, Dragons, and Deceit || Aemond & Aegon Targaryen

Sleepover

Sleep and full meals seemed to have done better than she had ever expected. Visaera was able to walk through the keep and around the gardens without feeling faint. Silence lingered between them but, every so often, she would glance at Aemond and find his eye on her. Then she would flush and look away, only for it to happen again a few minutes later.

"I'm but a call away, should you need anything," he offered when they finally returned to the shade of the castle. Then Aemond bowed and kissed the back of her hand. "My Lady..." It was such a simple, polite gesture, and yet, it made her heart race.

"My Lord," she replied, dipping into a proper curtsy, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. The look in his eye told her he was pleased with her reaction.

As Visaera made her way back to her quarters, she had to pause and lean against the wall, the afternoon exertions taking a toll on her. Before she could collect herself, the sound of Otto Hightower's voice met her ears and she instinctively ducked behind a tapestry and pressed herself to the wall.

"Yes, well... The Queen didn't expect the petition to end the way it did. There's not much to be done about it now."

"The princess has seemed quite ill as of late," Larys Strong... "Perhaps, with a nudge—"

"No, that is a risk we cannot take. If anything should go wrong, having the princess on our side will only help..."

The conversation faded away and Visaera remained frozen against the wall. Larys Strong wanted her dead... What on earth did Otto mean by "if anything should go wrong"? Fear gripped her around the neck, constricting her airway and making her head spin.

Just when she thought she had gained some control over her emotions, she felt herself crumbling once more, fragmented rubble beneath the boots of Otto Hightower. Even when they were long gone, she remained there, pressed against the cold wall, unable to move.

She couldn't tell her mother. Rhaenyra was under enough stress as it was and Visaera couldn't bear to add to it. Daemon... She needed to find her father...

"Are you sure that's all you heard?" Daemon asked for the third time, making Visaera groan in frustration.

"I told you exactly what I heard, father. Larys Strong offered to murder me and Otto told him no, because they might need me on their side."

"Fuck..." He had been gripping the hilt of Dark Sister since the first time she offered the information and not once had his fingers relaxed. "The conversation is clearly cause for concern, but it's not nearly enough to bring them forward for treason..."

"Larys Strong suggests murdering the heir to the throne and that's not treason?" she asked hysterically. The longer she dwelled on it, the more panicked she was becoming. Hours before, she thought a single mistake might cost her Aegon or Aemond, but now she realized a mistake might very well cost her life. Suddenly, she found herself feeling grateful that she was surrounded by her family; that they weren't back on Dragonstone, and that she wasn't all alone in the Red Keep.

"It's your word against theirs, my love," he answered softly. Frustrated, she struck out, knocking the vase from the table next to her. It fell to the floor, clattering into pieces, much live Visaera was feeling.

"Perhaps we should return to Dragonstone..." she offered, "Perhaps we should rescind—"

"No..." Daemon interjected, "No, if they need you on their side, then we need you here, Visaera. The (reens are not to be trusted, but you can help us keep an eye on them in a way nobody else can."

"Alicent's children—"

"Are Hightowers. Don't make the mistake of trusting them just because Aegon was your childhood friend, Visaera. It will only make it worse when they finally betray you." She chewed her lip and stared up at her father, thinking about Aemond's promise, praying Daemon was wrong...