Bronze She-Dragon

Chapter 21: Protective

YEAR 130 AC

Aemond's head was growing heavy with overwhelming thoughts, his arms were crossed on his chest, and his gaze seemed to be floating away. His whole body was tense. He felt an uncontrollable rage building up inside of him, taking over his being like a predator. As he was staring at a random spot on the wall, trying to get his thoughts together, sounds of despair were filling the walls of the chambers.

"This is impossible... What were the odds that she would survive?" Daena kept muttering, walking around the room back and forth. An expression of genuine surprise and disappointment froze on the Lady's face, not letting her go even for a second.

It was, indeed, quite ironic: how terrified she used to be at the mere thought of being the one to blame for Rhaenyra's death, and how dissatisfied she was with the news of her survival.

"Even when the odds are the smallest, it doesn't exclude the possibility completely." Ser Criston uttered. The emotions on his face were impossible to read. He merely stood at the entrance to the chambers, the spot he took as soon as he came into the room, and observed his master and mistress as they were falling into the abyss of distress.

"Whether the whore lives or not, matters not. She had lost her dragon, and would never be able to claim another one. If she is no dragon rider, she is no Targaryen. She is nothing." Aemond's voice finally filled the premises, attracting both Daena's and Criston's attention to him.

"Aegon had lost his dragon too. Does it make him less of a king?" Daena asked, biting her lip slightly with an unsatisfied expression on her face.

"My lady, whether Sunfyre is dead or not - we do not know. You shouldn't jump to conclusions." Ser Criston intervened. However, both Targaryens seemed to turn a deaf ear to him, being too preoccupied with their own discussion.

"Who we should be worried about is Daemon. The fucker is the single holder of the Blacks' power. We take care of him - and the war is as good as won." Aemond rose from his chair, looking at his wife with certain determination in his eyes. "I will fly to King's Landing, take Daemon down, and burn the bitch to the ashes. The war will turn much shorter than expected."

As soon as the words had hit her ears, Daena rushed to Prince Regent, taking his hand in hers.

"That is a horrible idea, Aemond. Don't forget: not only do they have Caraxes, but also a whole bunch of seeds with their dragons. This will turn into a gamble with your life. And that we cannot afford... I won't let you."

The silver-haired man turned a stunned gaze at his wife: his expectations of Daena's approval shattered into million pieces. After all, that was the reason why his wife flew all the way to Harrenhal from the Red Keep - to summon him. Now, however, she was stopping him from going.

"Lady Daena is right, my prince." Criston attempted to join the conversation once again, and this try was successful, as both the Prince and his wife switched their attention to him. "We don't know anything about King Aegon's whereabouts, not to mention his injuries and Sunfyre's overall ability to fight. Prince Daeron is too young, and Lady Daena is with child. You, my prince, are the sole protector of them all as well as the realm, and you cannot put your life at risk for the sake of your ambition only."

Aemond's eyes were filling with fury once more: his Hand and former mentor knew him so well that it was almost annoying. Criston didn't lie: it was mostly his undying ambition that was driving him into the direct confrontation with Daemon. However, Cole didn't lie about their situation either: Aemond was the only one who truly granted everyone's safety.

"My love, trust me, Daemon will come for both of us soon enough. That I am sure about. And here, in our land, he will be forced to play by our rules. Vhagar and Vermithor together will take him down without a problem. All the dragons won't be leaving King's Landing at once for the sake of Rhaenyra's safety. We will wear them out. We will make them hunt us down only to be slain in battle."