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

Hostage

Visaera was drifting pleasantly, enveloped in a rich velvety blackness that provided more comfort and serenity than she had never experienced before.

"Breathe! Damn you, Visaera, breathe!" Pain radiated through her chest as a familiar voice broke through the peace, tearing her from the hands of the Gods and tossing her mercilessly back onto the beach of Blackwater Bay. Visaera sat up and spewed what seemed like half of the harbor from her lungs, coughing and sputtering painfully.

"Seven fucking hells," Aemond breathed in relief, falling back in the sand. Visaera blinked repeatedly until her eyes cleared enough to see the prince beside her. His riding leathers were soaked through and his hair was wet; it took her a moment to realize he must have pulled her from the water.

Her left arm was covered in sand and radiating with pain, reminding her of what she had done in Old Town, reminding her that Jace was long gone and she was, once again, injured and alone in the capital.

Visaera fell back in the sand, agony coursing through her, and laughed hysterically, squinting her eyes against the light of the sun.

"You all have a sick sense of fucking humor!" she shouted at the sky, shaking her head. She had felt the Stranger's embrace; she had been so close; she had been at peace... Aemond stared at her, eye wide with shock and confusion and Visaera continued to laugh at the God's cruelty.

When her hysterical giggling finally morphed into sobs, Aemond pushed himself up out of the sand and reached for her. The moment she shifted onto her left side, she screamed and the prince immediately halted, assessing her for injuries. Her broken rib and torn shoulder had been healing well but he worried that she had set them off again. When he turned her to inspect the shoulder, his eye widened.

"Oh, my gods..." He breathed out, finally seeing the burns beneath the crust of sand covering the length of her arm. "What the fuck did you do?" Visaera's mind was in shambles and she let out another hysterical laugh before choking it down.

"Kill me, Aemond," she whispered, finally looking up into his eye, "End the pain. Kill me before your mother does..." He shook his head, completely baffled by her insane behavior.

"My mother isn't going to kill you, Visaera. I—"

"No, she is... An eye for an eye and a life for a life, right?" she asked, staring up at him, her wide eyes burning. "Luke's dead... And so is Daeron. The game of debts will never end, not until the Stranger claims us all." She threw herself back in the sand, crying out as pain surged through her, blackening the edges of her blurry vision once more. The sound of Tessarion's cry, of her bones snapping... It echoed in her head and she thought she might vomit, despite her stomach being empty.

"Daeron? What do you mean Daeron's dead?" he asked. When Visaera continued to stare blankly at the sky, he leaned over and shook her, the pain in her shoulder surged as white flashes danced behind her eyelids and she screamed. "Visaera, what did you do?" he shouted, shaking her a second time.

"The Hightower is where it belongs, in pieces beneath the Whispering Sound," she answered snidely, surprised by her own boldness. "If only your predecessors were there as well." Aemond shoved away from her, knocking her back in the sand as he rose and began to pace.

"Fuck... Fuck! Are you mad or just fucking stupid?" he yelled, his eye staring at her with exasperation.

"Both, I'm sure," she answered without an ounce of sarcasm, accepting whatever came next; waiting for Aemond to unsheathe his dagger and thrust it into her chest. To her dismay and bewilderment, he cursed under his breath, knelt down in front of her, and hauled her over his shoulder.

"Fuck, you're so light, Visaera," he breathed sadly, trekking up the beach toward the back entrance of the Red Keep. Her arm and shoulder were throbbing with every step he took and Visaera merely squeezed her eyes closed and allowed the pain to swallow her.