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

Pillowtalk

Back to our regularly scheduled smut- I mean programming. Minor warning for violence and dub-con for those who need it. Can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts!

Visaera lost count of the days, but at the rate she was healing, she guessed it had been weeks since Aemond had carried her in from the beach. The violet spattering of bruises along her cheek quickly faded away. To his credit, the prince cared for her dutifully, helping her visit the privy; bathing her in a small copper tub. The pair rarely spoke as he did this; Every time Visaera opened her mouth to speak, she closed it again.

Luke was dead; Daeron was dead. There was no common ground to be found and Visaera was nothing more than a hostage.

When her second bleeding came, Visaera realized it had been more than a full month since she had arrived; the thought left her sinking into a deep depression. She wondered what Jace was doing; how her mother was coping with her being held captive again.

The maids who cleaned her room whispered and, occasionally, Visaera was lucky enough to catch bits of their conversation. According to one of the black-haired little things, Daemon was still occupying Harrenhal, but no further actions had been taken by the blacks, at least to the Green's knowledge.

Visaera knew that both Stark and Baratheon had already sent ravens to her mother, settling terms, and she wondered how long it would be until the Greens realized winter was coming for them. Her mother may not be openly attacking, but agreements had already been set into motion and she knew that, somehow, her family was still working behind the scenes.

When Visaera opened her eyes, she realized Aemond was, in fact, asleep in the chair beside the bed. She dressed in silence, resolved to get out of her room for a while. The door cracked open and Visaera stepped out into the hall.

"Princess, you are to remain in your quarters," Ser Arryk informed her.

"I wish to see my aunt, Ser Arryk. I have no weapon and you are welcome to accompany me, please..." The knight glanced at the door and then back at her before letting out a sigh.

"Very well," Ser Arryk followed a mere pace behind her as she made her way up the stairs and around the corner, her slippers lightly tapping on the stone floor. The milk of the poppy kept the pain at bay, but it also made her mind foggy and she had to lean against the wall for support for a moment. "We can go back, princess," the knight offered. Visaera shook her head.

"No, I'm not going back. I want to see her..." she insisted, pushing herself of the wall and continuing down the corridor to Helaena's room. "Wait here," Visaera ordered. When Arryk made to follow, she sighed. "I will leave the door open," Arryk nodded and remained in the doorway, watching her closely.

The hour was late and Helaena was already asleep in her bed when Visaera sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Helaena," she breathed, placing her hand on her aunt's. The princess stirred for a moment but did not wake, and Visaera sighed. She leaned forward and kissed Helaena's forehead before rising from the bed. More than anything, she wanted to hear Helaena's voice and listen to her advice, but, for the moment, Visaera let her sleep.

"Is the King awake?" Visaera asked softly, closing Helaena's door behind her.

"I don't know, princess." Pausing, she glanced down the corridor at Aegon's door. Nearly two moons had passed and she had yet to see him once. When she turned heel and made her way toward Aegon's room, Ser Arryk reached out and caught hold of her bandaged wrist, making her wince.

"I would never harm Aegon, Ser Arryk," she said softly. The knight stared into her eyes for a moment, assessing her intent. "Please..."

"Don't make me regret this, princess," he complained, opening the door for her and shutting it behind her. The room was dim and empty; at the late hour, she wondered where Aegon was. Instead of turning around and leaving, Visaera walked slowly through the room, remembering the last time she was surrounded by these walls; remembering the way Aegon smiled at her in his poppy-induced haze.