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

The Gods Made You For Me

"Aemond..." His name was the first thing from her lips before she blinked her eyes open and forced herself to sit up. Aemond looked horrid, like he hadn't slept in days.

"Grand Maester Gerardys has kept you asleep for three days, Visaera. He said your body needs the rest. You haven't been sleeping..." He didn't need to say it; anyone who looked at her would have known she hadn't been. She merely shook her head. It didn't matter, none of it mattered. "Visaera," he waited until she finally looked up into his eye to speak again, "Please eat something," he implored in a tight voice.

Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, catching her completely off guard. His kiss was soft, gentle, achingly so, with something she couldn't quite discern hidden in it. He didn't look at her as he pulled away and left the room, the door slamming closed behind him.

Visaera sagged with relief to be alone once more. She was tired of putting on a show of strength; tired of pretending she was a dragon. Only she wasn't alone...

"Visaera," He was sitting in front of the hearth, looking nearly as awful as Aemond.

"Aegon," she breathed, shocked to find him in Aemond's quarters. She hadn't spoken a word to him since Aemond had found them in Gerardys' lab and he hadn't so much as looked at her in months. Why was he here, now?

"You look terrible, Vis," he informed her, moving across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Unused to the proximity to him, Visaera stiffened, unsure of what he was going to do. She snorted at his comment.

"Just what every lady wants to hear..." she muttered sarcastically.

"What are you doing, Visaera?" he asked seriously.

"I'm not doing anything..."

"Yes, you are," Aegon replied, "I know you, little doe." Her chest clenched at his endearment, and she grew lightheaded, her mind already racing with confusion. "Why are you punishing yourself?" Seconds ticked by, minutes perhaps, and Visaera remained silent.

"It should have been me..." she finally admitted, "So many people are dead and it's my fault."

"It's not your fault, Visaera. Everyone is responsible for their own choices in all of this." Aegon replied softly.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Aegon. I'm so tired..."

"So, just tell Aemond—"

"I'm not talking about the betrothal. I'm talking about this... All of it. I never imagined I would have to live with everything I've seen. A year ago, my biggest concern was what dress I was going to wear to dinner. I've killed people, Aegon, and it haunts me. I don't want to be here anymore..."

"Oh, Vis," he breathed sadly, shaking his head. "You need to eat, Visaera, and sleep. I can't just sit by and watch you waste away."

"Is that not what you want? What you've wanted for months? For me to finally be out of your life?"

"Of course, not." Aegon replied, a look of bewilderment on his face. She stared at him, her own brows knitted in confusion

"You came in the middle of the night; I thought..."

"You thought I was going to kill you?" Aegon asked, horror evident in his voice as he realized why her reaction that night had been so hysterical. "Visaera, I told you before, I would never hurt you."

She winced, recalling the way he had slammed her against his table and scathingly ordered her from his room. "I guess I already did, though, didn't I?" he added softly. He stared at her in the dim light of the room. She looked thinner than he recalled ever seeing her; worn around the edges, like a fraying rope in desperate need of mending, lest it snap.