aebi12 - Tumblr blog

aebi12 · 5 days

Text

"Resentment" - Chapter 6 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

With so much history and bad blood between Rhaena and Aemond, their forced union has everything to fail, except that the proximity will make them discover that perhaps they have more in common than it seems.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Masterlist with previous chapters

Tags: enemies to lovers, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

***

“Did you understand what your purpose is?”

“Yes, brother, for the umpteenth time, I understood you perfectly.”

Aemond narrows his good eye as he watches Daeron's apathetic expression. The prince had preferred to meet his younger brother in his chambers, away from the ears of the council members and the excessive concern that Alicent would surely show upon knowing that he would send him to the Riverlands.

“You must know how to impose your authority”

“You do remember that I led our armies in the Reach during the war, right? Quite successfully, if I may say so."

“Daeron the Daring,” Aemond responds with a lopsided smile, “I hope then that this mission will be a piece of cake for you.”

“It will be, brother, trust me.”

Daeron offers a huge smile on his youthful face and Aemond simply sighs, “When will you be ready to leave?”

“Probably tomorrow afternoon, it is not a long flight,” he responds, “I hope I don't extend my stay too much, I want to arrive in time for the tournament for your wedding.”

The one-eyed prince begins drumming the table with his fingers at the mention of the tournament. A ridiculous thing, in his opinion.

“I do not want you to participate in the jousts, it could become…”

His words are interrupted by the arrival of a messenger boy, who bows to both princes and hands Daeron a scroll. His brother immediately breaks the seal and, as he reads the contents, an expression that Aemond interprets as pleasant surprise appears on his face.

"Good news?" he can't help but ask

Daeron folds the scroll and looks up at him, “It is from Rhaena.”

“Our cousin Rhaena?” Aemond raises his eyebrows, surprised.

“Yes, obviously our cousin Rhaena,” his brother nods, smiling, “She is inviting me for a walk on the beach this afternoon.”

"Hmm"

The prince maintains his mask of neutrality, although internally he wonders why his betrothed contacts his brother and dares to invite him to spend time with her.

"Does it bother you?"

“Of course not,” he replies coldly, “Attend if that is what you wish, you will be the one who must endure her presence.”

Daeron's infuriating smile widens a little, and he even dares to chuckle, “You must be the only one in the castle who finds her unbearable.” When his older brother does nothing but glare at him instead of answering his comment, Daeron sighs, but continues, “She is a beautiful young woman and she will be your wife very soon. It wouldn't kill you to give yourself the opportunity to get to know her, and enjoy her company. Unless you prefer to be miserable sharing your life with someone to whom you barely speak a word”

Aemond makes an indeterminate noise with his mouth and stands up, “Focus on your mission, that is what is expected of you.”

***

“Aren't you planning on reading the books?”

Marianne's skillful fingers move along the long row of little buttons on Rhaena's back, bringing them together to close her dress. The young woman's gaze briefly wanders to the heavy tomes that Aemond had given her the night before and that remain on the table in the anteroom, where she had left them when leaving the Tower of the Hand, "No."

“But maybe they will be useful now that you will have to attend the Festival with him”

“Maybe,” she admits, “But they are huge. "I am not going to spend my days cooped up here memorizing books about the Faith," Rhaena clicks her tongue, "Besides, I know enough and doesn't the High Septon do most of the work? Above all, I will have to stand and endure the sermons, right?”

“I guess so,” Marianne nods, “It is done.”

“Thank you,” Rhaena admires her figure in the mirror, “Have you ever attended the ceremonies?”

“Yes, but not all of them. I usually go only the last day to the Major Ritual and then to the fundraiser and the banquet”

"What is that about?" she asks, curious, turning to Marianne.

“Ah, you know, basically a dinner to allow the Court to clear their conscience before the gods by making donations to the Faith,” she responds with a giggle and a mischievous look.

“Marianne Westerling!” Rhaena exclaims with false reproach.

"What? I'm just repeating what I once heard my aunt Johanna say."

They both laugh and Rhaena applies drops of her rose perfume before looking at herself one last time in the mirror, “Tell me more about that fundraiser.”

“Well, this year Lady Blackwood is in charge of organizing it. I imagine it will be a grand event, I heard that she had hired a company of puppeteers from the other side of the Narrow Sea to liven up the afternoon.”

"Really? Puppeteers? That doesn't sound very...religious."

“Oh, the high septon loves that kind of spectacle,” Marianne assures, “Anyway, it will be something more exclusive this year. Lady Blackwood will invite only a few select members of the court.”

Rhaena smirks at him, “I hope she doesn't send Aemond an invitation.”

“Even if she does, I doubt the prince will attend,” Marianne replies, “Not even Queen Alicent makes an appearance. She usually fasts after the celebrations."

"Good. It will be the perfect occasion to put some distance after all the days I will have to spend next to him,” Rhaena laments, shuddering.

Morning suddenly flies across the room and tangles around her neck, growling as she slams her tail into Rhaena's shoulder, clearly impatient to leave the room.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” the girl is quick to say, calming the dragon with her touch, “We are leaving now”

The dragon roars again, and Rhaena and her lady go in the direction of one of the exits of the Red Keep.

“This was a bad idea,” Marianne comments, visibly pale, rubbing her hands and looking at the empty courtyard, “I don't know why I let you talk me into this.”

“No, it is not a bad idea,” Rhaena assures, taking her friend's hands to stop her from moving them and suppressing a grimace when she finds them cold and sweaty, “Just breathe and be yourself.”

“Yeah, right,” Marianne huffs.

"I mean it. You are lovely, Marianne, my cousin would be a fool if he didn't see it.”

Whatever her lady is about to respond is cut short when Daeron rushes in, heading straight up to them and smiling politely, “I am sorry for the delay, cousin, Lady Marianne.”

“No problem, cousin, we've barely arrived, shall we?”

The three get into a carriage that transports them through the crowded streets of the city towards the beach.

“I am glad you could join us,” Rhaena says after a short silence, “Marianne and I are very excited to leave the palace.”

“Thank you for inviting me, it is always good to get some fresh air.”

The young woman makes a subtle signal to her friend, raising her eyebrows and inviting her to speak.

“Indeed, my prince,” Marianne says after clearing her throat, and when Rhaena subtly squeezes her hand between the skirts of her dress, she adds, “Are you… are you excited about the festivities of the Faith?”

“Not particularly,” Daeron admits, “Besides, I won't be able to attend the Festival, I'll be flying to the Riverlands tomorrow.”

"Pleasure trip?" Rhaena asks, curious.

“Crown affairs, boring matters to your ears, surely”

“Surely,” Rhaena nods and looks at her friend, “Did you not visit Riverrun on the way to King's Landing?”

“Oh yes, briefly…”

The conversation continues until the carriage stops and Daeron helps them out.

Rhaena smiles as she feels the sea breeze full on her face and takes a few steps away from Daeron and her lady, who continue their conversation.

“Come on, fly and be free,” she says to her dragon, who makes a satisfied noise as she untangles from Rhaena’s neck and spreads her wings, “Just don't get too far away.”

“I remember when Tessarion was this little,” Daeron comments.

“It must have been very exciting growing up with a dragon,” says Marianne, looking at Daeron enthralled, her honey color eyes fixed on the prince's every gesture, who smiles at her frankly, as if thinking about the words she just said.

“Well, yes, I remember that I had a hard time learning the orders in High Valyrian. It was very natural for my siblings, but for me…”

Rhaena tunes out their conversation as she watches Morning walk further away than she deems necessary.

“I'll go after her,” she announces, although Marianne and Daeron are already several steps ahead of her and don't seem to hear her.

“Morning, wait,” Rhaena asks, almost running to where her dragon flies. A smile appears on her face as she watches her so relaxed. Although the creature had flown between the halls and gardens of the palace, it must definitely feel much better to be in an open-air environment. The girl gives the order again and this time Morning returns to her side, “I know, I know, I am very happy too,” she tells her in a low voice, “It is good to be able to go out for a while, right? I was already bored in that palace as well”

Morning lets out a flare next to her and Rhaena sighs. At times like this, she really missed the Vale more than ever. She had had so much freedom in the Eyrie that she had taken for granted the most routine activities like taking a simple walk outdoors that now, in the capital, were so rare.

A roar-like noise brings Rhaena out of her thoughts. Her dragon coils tightly around her neck as the girl examines her surroundings looking for the source of the sound.

"What do you think…?"

Her question dies on her lips when the noise is heard again and this time accompanied by a movement of what Rhaena had taken to be a dune near the beach.

“Vhagar”

The girl whispers the name into the wind and takes a few steps back, alarmed, before realizing that the enormous dragon is not moving or following her. In reality, she realizes after a few seconds, Vhagar seems to be sleeping and the sounds she has heard are probably her snoring or her labored breathing.

Rhaena turns in the direction of Marianne and her cousin, but she can't see any of them. She apparently had gotten further away from them than she thought.

“We should go back,” she tells Morning, although her feet don't move.

Her eyes return to Vhagar, who sleeps peacefully among the sands of the beach, to the magnificent creature that had once been Laena Velaryon's mount. Rhaena closes her eyes for a few seconds and tries to remember the time when her mother had taken to the skies with her, the power of her flames, her roars that could be heard throughout Pentos when Laena rode on her back.

Vhagar had been part of her household. And then she had become an enemy of her family. The old dragoness had destroyed her allies and changed the course of the war. Although now, she realizes, there is almost nothing left of that.

She agrees that it is a bad idea, but unable to help herself, she takes a few steps towards the dragon, wanting to examine her. Her wings, even from a distance, look more broken than they had ever been, and her body riddled with more scars than she remembered. Maybe it had been her...

"What do you think you are doing?"

A hand closes tightly around her arm, slowing her progress and turning her so violently that she staggers and it takes her a few seconds to find her balance again.

“What do you think you are doing approaching my dragon?” Aemond asks once again.

"Why are you here?" Rhaena asks in turn, bewildered.

“Do you think Vhagar is like the pet you like to show off and will let you get close to her?” The prince ignores her question, his good eye fleetingly turning to Morning.

“I am not a fool, cousin,” she replies, moving her arm, trying to get out of her grasp, “I wasn't going to get close to Vhagar, I know her temperament very well, I just wanted to see her closer. It took me by surprise to find her here and…”

“Come, we shouldn't bother her, she does not like to be interrupted when she sleeps,” the prince cuts her off.

“I know, I remember,” she replies, annoyed, “I knew her long before you did.”

She knows she's struck a chord with the prince when he tightens his grip on her arm, forcing her to hold back a pained moan, and his icy gaze focuses on her.

“Do you think because she was once linked to your mother that you know her well enough?” he asks in an almost terrifying whisper, “How about we test her loyalty to you? Maybe I should wake her up and find out if she still remembers you.”

Rhaena can't help but wince and Aemond lets go of her arm, although his gaze remains fixed on her.

“I know well that Vhagar's loyalty is yours,” she finally responds, “As I said, it just took me by surprise to find her so…” Rhaena bites her tongue to hold back her words, “Different from the last time I saw her.”

Aemond, however, seems to understand exactly the girl's comment, because his gaze goes to his dragon, who spreads her wings in her dreams, further evidencing her deteriorated appearance. Rhaena seems to notice a hint of sadness in his expression, though it passes too quickly.

“I imagine that the war also left its scars on Vhagar.” She knows that perhaps it is not wise to insist on the subject, but she really wants to know, “Is she like this because of… because of the Gods Eye?”

Had it been Caraxes and her father who caused such a level of damage to the creature?

Aemond stops looking at his dragon, and looks at his cousin for a few moments before lowering his face, “She just needs to rest.”

But Rhaena knows that is not true. She hasn't seen Vhagar fly over the city even once since she arrived in King's Landing. And besides, her cousin's somber expression says it all. For a moment, just a brief moment, the girl feels sorry for the clear pain that the prince is experiencing at seeing the state of his dragon.

“Come, I don't think I can deny Vhagar dinner if she wakes up and finds you and your creature here.”

Rhaena rolls her eyes and starts walking in the opposite direction of her cousin, who, to her surprise, follows her.

“You shouldn't be wasting your time on walks on the beach when you should be catching up on the reading I gave you.”

“Oh, your books,” Rhaena smirks, “They were such an inspiring reading that I finished them just yesterday.”

Aemond makes a disdainful noise and glares at her, but Rhaena just keeps walking. Morning leaves her shoulders and flies a few meters away from her.

“The festival is not a joke, it is a solemn occasion, I think I was very clear when I said that…”

“I will know how to live up to it, my prince,” she cuts him off.

Aemond clicks his tongue, “Where is Daeron? I thought you came here with him.”

How the prince knows that his brother is here, Rhaena neither knows nor asks. She simply turns her face towards the place where Marianne and Daeron had left, “I did, but I kind of lost them while following Morning. Oh, there they are,” she points to the two figures beginning to approach in the distance.

“Who accompanies my brother?” Aemond asks, frowning.

“My lady-in-waiting”

Rhaena tries to mask her excitement at observing how good they look together and how pleased Marianne seems.

“Hmm,” Aemond tilts his body toward his cousin, “Are you returning the favor to your lady by being her chaperone today?”

"What do you mean?" Rhaena blushes and looks at him.

“You are not subtle at all,” Aemond responds, “Did you get bored so quickly with Court entertainment that you are now trying to find a wife for my brother?”

“And what if that were to be the case?” She retorts defensively, “Marianne is more than suitable to be a prince's wife.”

“What is her name again?”

“Westerling. Marianne Westerling,” she replies, annoyed, “I introduced her to you yesterday before dinner.”

“Niece of Lord Tyland Lannister,” Aemond seems thoughtful, “Her house was an important and loyal ally to us during the war,” he doesn't give her time to reply, “I will consider it.”

“It is not like they need your permission to marry,” Rhaena retorts, “And I didn't ask you to intervene in any matter”

The girl is cut off when Daeron and her friend arrive next to them.

"Brother!" The young prince seems genuinely surprised to see his older brother, “I didn't know you would join us.”

“I had some business to attend here,” Aemond replies, “You should be preparing for your mission. You don't need distractions right now."

Marianne blushes violently and Daeron simply smiles, looking at them both, “Excuse my brother's abruptness, my ladies. “Aemond thinks of nothing but the kingdom these days.”

Rhaena bites her lip to keep from saying something that might upset her betrothed, and Marianne simply nods.

“I assure you, brother, that I am well aware about my commitments and responsibilities. I was just telling Lady Marianne that we should go back because it's getting late and the sun is starting to set."

Aemond nods and they return in silence to the carriage. The trip back to the castle is nowhere near as entertaining as before now that the one-eyed prince sits next to them and his presence seems to discourage any hint of conversation. Rhaena simply ignores him as she watches Morning fly out the window, very close to her.

When the carriage stops in the castle's entrance courtyard and they get out, the girl is surprised to find Queen Alicent waiting for them.

“There was no need to come here, mother,” Daeron immediately approaches her, hugging her affectionately, “You could have waited for us in your chambers.”

“I thought it would be a good idea for Lady Rhaena and Lady Marianne to join us at dinner tonight.”

“We would love to accompany you, Your Grace,” her friend is quick to respond, clearly excited by the invitation and not waiting to consult with Rhaena, who simply smiles and nods.

“My son will take on his first official role as a member of the royal council,” Alicent explains, her voice full of pride.

“It is just an errand in Riverrun,” says Aemond.

Rhaena looks up at him as she hears the clear note of bitterness in his voice.

“He will represent the Crown. And I know that he will know how to fulfill his duty and honor his house."

For some reason she doesn't fully understand, the queen's words seem to have an effect on her eldest son, who tenses beside her and clenches his hands into fists.

Rhaena looks at her lady, searching for her knowing look, but she seems oblivious to everything, her eyes fixed on Prince Daeron who has linked her arm with that of his mother and escorts her into the castle.

Aemond, however, does not move. His gaze is still fixed on Alicent and his brother. And Rhaena, who does not fully understand the tension between the dowager queen and her eldest son, manages to recognize the emotion that Aemond's face reflects because she had seen it reflected in herself the numerous times that her father had preferred her twin, leaving her always on the side.

Pain. Rage. Envy and resentment.

____________________________________________________________

I'm so so sorry for just basically disappearing but life was just too much... and I needed time. Anyway I still love this story, I have evertyhing planned out and I will be updating soon, so... I hope you give this story a chance :) *Second chance* lol

@ammo23 @qyburnsghost @niocel @ithoughtulikedme @avidreader73

Please let me know what you think! And if you would like to maybe be tag in the next chapters :)

#ao3fic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x rhaena #rhaena targaryen #rhaena of pentos #eventual smut #resentment #drama #angst #young love #enemies to lovers

12 notes · View notes

aebi12 · 7 months

Text

"Resentment" - Chapter 5 [AemondxRhaena]

Summary

He is the cause of her sufferings. He took her dragon, her betrothed, and her father. Now, he will also take away her future by having to marry him.

AU - the Greens win the war.

Masterlist with previous chapters

Tags: enemies to lovers, romance, angst, drama, eventual smut, hurt/comfort

Please remember that english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes...

***

“I am not going”

“But it is an invitation from the prince.”

"Exactly!" Rhaena says emphatically, crumpling the parchment and balling her hands into fists as she begins to walk again, “I can decline it if I wish so”

“Don't you think he'll feel slighted if you do that?” Marianne asks, rushing to stand next to her.

“I don't care if he does,” she says with a shrug.

Rhaena internally reproaches herself for having replied so lackadaisically and making evident her annoyance at the situation to her lady, but she simply sighs as she continues walking. To call an invitation to the words that the kinslayer has written is to be too lenient. The prince has practically demanded her presence, summoning her as if she were one of his servants.

Who does he think he is?

“Is it because of what Lady Blackwood and Lady Redwyne just told us?”

"What?"

“You know…” Marianne seems embarrassed, her cheeks turning red and her gaze unable to meet that of her lady, “About that woman… Alys Rivers”

“I am afraid I do not understand,” Rhaena frowns.

“I mean…” she sighs, “It must have been hard for you knowing that your future husband had a previous affair with a woman.”

Rhaena can't help but let out a giggle that turns into a laugh.

“Oh Marianne, no, no,” she replies, shaking her head and still laughing, “I don't care at all that my cousin had a mistress.”

Her lady's honey eyes widen comically, her expression of disbelief causing Rhaena much tenderness, “How come? I would be devastated if I found out about a scandal of such magnitude."

“You heard the old ladies,” she responds, “It is in a man's nature to have mistresses. Some are simply more… discreet about such matters.”

Her own father, Rhaena thinks, had had different affairs. During her stay in Pentos, even when she was a child, she had not been unaware of the flirtations between the rogue prince and his servants. And then, after his marriage to Rhaenyra, she knew that her father had not remained completely faithful to her stepmother.

“Well, yes, I know,” her lady admits, “But one can always wish that that wasn't the case, don't you think? Wouldn't you like, I don't know, for Prince Aemond to be devoted only to you?”

Rhaena gives a careless giggle, “No, not really. I don't care if the prince has his distractions. Our marriage is merely a political alliance, as you well know, so I have no expectations of any kind in that regard.”

Marianne seems to examine her expression for a few seconds, as if deciding whether or not Rhaena is being completely sincere. “Well, I hope I can find a husband who is totally faithful to me.”

Rhaena can't help but smile and take her lady's hand, caressing it gently, and nodding, “And so you will, I am sure. And I think I know who would be the perfect candidate for such a feat,” without waiting for the other girl to ask, she continues, “My cousin Daeron.”

“Oh no, don't start with this again, please,” Marianne asks, looking around her, as if she were scared that someone had heard Rhaena.

"Why not? I think you two would be a perfect union.”

“You just want to change the subject,” the brunette reproaches.

“Yes, and you will indulge me in that regard,” Rhaena replies. Marianne simply sighs and links her arm to her lady's, “I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll write a letter. If my betrothed can contact me and arrange a meeting through a message, I will do the same with Daeron and ask him to accompany us to the beach.”

"If you insist…"

“I do,” Rhaena nods and then her face widens with a smile, “Come on, let's go to my rooms and order wine and cake.”

***

Her sheets are soaked in sweat.

The next morning, Rhaena wakes up agitated and feverish, her nightgown clinging to her body and the images of the dream - nightmare - she just had still fluttering in her head.

The Gods Eye.

Her father and Caraxes. Falling down. How long has it been since she had that dream?

Years, probably. It had pursued her for several months after learning of Daemon's death, and the girl had managed to drive them away thanks to the relief of a minimal dose of milk of the poppy every night. Why did that dream have to return just now?

Of course, this time, she thinks as she throws back the sheets and sits heavily on the bed rubbing her eyes, the dream had changed. This time, the presence of her cousin and that of a mysterious woman with bewitching eyes had further darkened the atmosphere created in her mind.

Damn those gossip old ladies, mutters under her breath, standing up and calling for her maids. It is because of everything she had been told the previous afternoon that her mind was now punishing her by recreating situations that she had not witnessed and that had not bothered her in a long time.

“Prepare a bath for me, Cyndi, please.”

The maid prepares fills the tub, and Rhaena immediately immerses, closing her eyes and allowing the hot water to relax her muscles and free her mind.

“It was just a dream,” she says to herself quietly, “Just a dream.”

And repeating that, she dresses and spends the morning with Marianne, having breakfast in the gardens and practicing her embroidery. She even visits a couple of court ladies and has lunch with them, chasing away her worries and anxiety that builds as the hours pass.

But it is when her path crosses that of Aemond that her good mood finally fades. Although Rhaena tries to appear indifferent, and although he shows no sign of acknowledging her presence, she can notice his fixed gaze on her from the other end of the room. The girl bites the inside of her lip, suddenly nervous and hurries to leave the place, but the feeling of continuing to be watched persists.

Damn him, she thinks as she walks through the corridors without really paying attention to Lady Rosby's animated chatter, she had to find him precisely today, of all days.

Rhaena sighs and excuses herself to her companion, and makes her way back to her room.

It had been easy, the previous evening, to assure Marianne that she would not be attending the dinner. Only now, after thinking about it properly, she knows better than to simply ignore her betrothed. After all, she is supposed to play the role of a willing bride and, brushing aside the invitation from her future husband, doesn't agree with the role.

Still, she has no desire to spend an evening in the company of Aemond Targaryen. She knows that her cousin is spiteful and a part of her fears what he might do to her if they are alone, especially after the way she had treated him that time in the gardens. Letting out a moan, Rhaena covers her face with her hands.

No. Better not to go. Better to take refuge in the safety of her room.

Although he could come for you, thinks that unfriendly little voice in her head. As impulsive as the prince is, Rhaena doesn't doubt that he might as well send a couple guards to force her to attend the dinner.

He is the king's brother and his hand. He has all the power.

The thought frustrates and bothers her, but she knows there is nothing she can do about such an imbalance of power between the two. At least not yet. Maybe, just maybe... as Lady Jeyne had told her at the Eyrie, she might at some point have enough influence to counteract the prince's. But not now. And it's better, Rhaena knows, to just play along. At least this time.

“There you are,” Marianne's voice brings her out of her thoughts, “I thought we agreed to go to the library together.”

“Yes, well, it will have to be another day,” she responds with a sigh, “I decided to attend the dinner.”

Marianne looks surprised, but she just nods, “I think it is the most sensitive thing to do.” Rhaena doesn't answer, she just shrugs, “Do you want me to help you select your dress and accessories? Maybe we could even do something different with your hair, we still have some time.”

“It won't be necessary. I will just use what I am wearing now”

"But…" The lady frowns, “It is a pretty dress, yes, but this is a dinner with your future husband. Surely the occasion merits something more… elaborate”

“I have no intention of getting dressed specifically for this dinner.”

“But Rhaena!” Marianne looks frustrated, “Let me help you, please…”

“I am not going to make an effort to look good for…” Rhaena stops her words, breathes and gives her a forced smile, “I mean it is a rather informal occasion, what I am wearing now is more than adequate.”

Marianne sighs, “I wish that, for once, you would speak your mind to me”

"I do"

“No, no, you do not. Every time you are going to say something related to the prince, I can tell that you are not being completely sincere. Don't you trust me?” Her lady looks at her with a hurt expression on her face.

“It's not that,” she is quick to respond, although she knows it's just that, “I was only…” Rhaena bites the inside of her lip, a small wound starting to form from having abused the gesture in a while.

Did she trust Marianne? She knew that Alicent had appointed her, but she had proven to be sincere and discreet in these weeks of living together. Besides, Rhaena thinks, there's a certain innocence in her disposition that doesn’t seem fake.

“I don't want to make efforts for him,” she ends up saying, deciding to give her lady in waiting a vote of confidence, “I don't want to think about looking good for him or making him find me attractive.”

“Because you don't love him,” Marianne agrees.

“I could never love him,” she says, her voice harsher than she wishes, “I can barely tolerate his presence.”

“But you are going to marry him…” her lady looks at her with confused eyes.

“What other option do I have? It's not like they asked my opinion on it. And if they had done it, never, ever, Marianne, would I have accepted him to be my husband."

“But maybe… maybe if you give him a chance, the prince won't turn out to be as bad as he seems.”

Rhaena can’t help but laugh bitterly, “There is too much history between us. Even though I only saw him a couple of times before arriving at the Red Keep, Aemond Targaryen ruined my life in many ways.” Rhaena breathes and tries to control herself, but the words come out of her mouth, “He is a kinslayer, he murdered my betrothed, Prince Lucerys. He and his brother killed my grandmother and then he ended my father's life. And there is also the whole thing with Vhagar. My life would have been so much better if he hadn't interfered and taken everything I hold dear from me."

There is a moment of silence in which they simply look at each other, Marianne's expression becoming even more saddened. The lady takes a couple of tentative steps towards Rhaena, sitting next to her and holding her hand.

“I am so sorry, Rhaena. Gods, I am such a fool! I spoke without thinking and didn't even consider the fact that you and the prince were on opposite sides during the war,” she says quietly.

She shakes her head, “It is fine. It's been a long time since that happened."

“That doesn't make it any less painful.”

“No, it doesn't,” Rhaena replies, squeezing her hand and offering her a reassuring little smile, “But I learned to live with that”

There is another moment of silence before Marianne speaks again.

“The prince Lucerys… did you love him?”

No. The answer immediately comes to her mind. She had never loved Lucerys, at least not in the romantic way that her lady was referring to.

“I cared about him,” she replies, “I grew up with him and Luke was… he had a sweet heart. He would have been a good husband. Kind and considerate”

Her life would have been much calmer with Lucerys. She would have continued living near her family, in Driftmark. In her mother's ancestral home, surrounded by her memories, her presence... a lump form in her throat at the thought of this and she breathes deeply, determined not to cry.

"Do you hate him?" asks Marianne, “Prince Aemond, I mean, do you hate him?”

Did she? Rhaena bites her lip and thinks about the contempt she usually feels whenever she is around her cousin. Was that hate?

“I resent him,” she finally responds.

Marianne nods and seems to hesitate before asking, “Do you want me to go to this dinner with you?”

Rhaena looks at her surprised, “What?”

“I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone with the prince. After everything you've told me, I think he might... might be unpleasant to you."

Rhaena's stomach clenches as she hears her verbalize the fears she herself had recently harbored.

“Would you really go with me?”

“Yes, of course” she nods vehemently, “He'll have to behave if I'm there, next to you, right?”

There is a note of hope in her voice and it is to it that Rhaena clings as she nods and leaves her room with her lady, walking down the long corridors and stairs until they reach the Tower of the Hand.

“He could have chosen a more suitable place,” Marianne murmurs almost breathless after finally reaching the prince's chambers.

Rhaena just smiles at her friend, her own chest rising and falling rapidly. Her lady smiles back and squeezes her hand before walking the last few steps to the double doors where two knights guard the entrance.

“Prince Aemond is waiting for Lady Rhaena,” Marianne says to one of them, who nods to them both and opens the door, announcing their presence.

The two young women enter the large room and Rhaena observes her surroundings feeling curious. There is not much furniture or excessive decorations on the walls, just some Targaryen symbols and a huge fireplace with a lively fire that bathes the room in a warm light. The windows are covered and she can't take in the view, although she assumes it's much better than the one in her room. Rhaena walks towards the table that is already set and the smell of the food almost makes her smile.

Until the figure of her cousin, walking with determined steps from somewhere at the other end of the room, appears.

Aemond Targaryen stops before them and places his hands behind his back, a look of genuine surprise in his good eye. Marianne, next to her, bows and Rhaena simply nods.

“Cousin,” the prince greets in his usual tone of voice between bored and annoyed, “And…”

“Marianne Westerling,” Rhaena says, introducing them, “My lady-in-waiting.”

A haughty little smile appears on the prince's face, “Lady Westerling, of course. Well, you can leave now. I want to have dinner alone with my betrothed."

“My prince, I…”

“You heard me, leave.”

“Marianne is not leaving,” Rhaena replies, frowning, “It would not be appropriate for us to dine alone, we are not married yet, so she will be my companion tonight.”

“That's right, my prince, I will act as chaperone. Surely Queen Alicent…”

“My mother is aware of my invitation,” Aemond cuts her off again, “And fear not, Lady Westerling, your ladyship's virtue is in no danger.”

His last comment is delivered with such disdain that Rhaena can't help but feel offended, her cheeks reddening violently from the rage she feels at hearing the mockery in Aemond's voice.

“I don't like to repeat myself, leave us alone,” the prince fixes his good eye on her lady-in-waiting, whom Rhaena feels tense next to her.

"My lady?" Marianne turns to her, looking at Rhaena with clear nervousness, her hands trembling.

Rhaena looks at her friend, and then at her cousin, who frowns and raises his eyebrows, as if daring her to oppose his order. The girl clenches her hands into fists, pressing her nails against her palms, and looks back at Marianne, offering her a little smile that doesn't reach her eyes, “It is fine, Marianne, you can go.”

The young woman nods and bows to both of them before leaving the room.

“There was no need to be so rude to my lady.”

“There was no need to bring her here in the first place,” he retorts, and adds, “And I seem to remember telling you to refer to me as my prince, my…”

“Lord or Prince Aemond, yes, right,” Rhaena interrupts, “Well, I am here. Is there anything you wish to discuss with me, my lord?” she asks, mentioning the last part almost under her breath.

Aemond watches her for a few long seconds, as if he were internally debating whether or not to respond to what he considers clear insolence on her part. In the end, he simply turns his back on her and walks over to the table.

"Sit. We'll eat and then I'll let you know why you are here."

He doesn't wait for Rhaena to take her place, but rather he motions to a servant, who appears out of nowhere to help him move the chair and settle into it. Rhaena stops herself from rolling her eyes and takes her place at the table, across from him.

“Pour us wine and then leave,” he orders the servant, who hurries to comply, filling both of their glasses with a drink that emanates a delicious sweet smell.

Once they are alone, it is obvious that the prince has no intention at the moment other than focusing on his dinner, as he fills his plate with a portion of the pheasant and vegetables that have been placed on the table. As Aemond begins to eat, Rhaena sighs and decides to do the same. The truth is that she is really hungry, having not properly enjoyed her lunch feeling to nervous about the prospects of that night.

And now you are here, she thinks as she cuts a piece of the soft meat, Dining with the kinslayer.

Despite the apparent calm, there is tension in the atmosphere, the room enveloped in an uncomfortable silence that is only broken by the eventual sound of cutlery and the fire in the fireplace.

It had been good, Rhaena thinks as she watches her cousin drink his glass of wine out of the corner of her eye, to have released to Marianne what she had kept in her chest for a long time. For years she had simply endured every blow that life had thrown in her direction, having no one to complain to, unable to lament her fate except alone. Not even at the Eyrie had she been able to speak so openly to Lady Jeyne. She didn't like being the object of anyone's pity, she preferred to try to put aside the losses of her past and focus on the positive of the present, of the good things that surely waited for her later. Clearly, that was not an option in the Red Keep. While she had been able to hope for a happy future in the Vale, here she could only resign herself to the life that had been chosen for her. And although she convincingly disguised her unease, it was clear that it had been building up inside her. And it had been better to let Marianne listen to her rather than, for example, losing her temper again in front of her husband-to-be.

Rhaena shakes her head and focuses back on her food, enjoying the savory seasoning of the meat, drinking the wine that she finds as exquisite as it smells. When she has finished her plate, she delicately wipes the corners of her mouth and looks once again at her cousin, who is still eating.

After a couple of minutes, however, she begins to feel anxious again. Why does it take so long for him to finish his dinner? Is he doing it to anger her? She didn't doubt that would be the case. And, furthermore, what does he want to talk to her about? Rhaena had been dreading spending hours at his side so much, that she had not thought about what his reason would be for summoning her to his private chambers. He certainly wasn't looking to befriend her or get to know her better, not when he had spent weeks simply ignoring her and not even making a kind gesture toward her. No, Rhaena doubted that was the reason. Also, based on his statements from a while ago, he was not seeking to be intimate with her either.

Thinking about that possibility, Rhaena can't help but blush again, her eyes instinctively landing on her cousin, who – as per usual - looks tremendously stoic and imperturbable, an expression of cold serenity on his face that irritates her.

How could a man like him have lost his mind to a witch of the forest? The impertinent question suddenly appears in her mind, surprising her, but at the same time awakening her curiosity as she remembers everything she had heard the previous afternoon. How is it that this Aemond Targaryen, who looks as cold as the northern snow, had practically abandoned his family to live a love affair with a low-born woman? He, who didn't seem to have any consideration for anyone, who seemed to think that everyone was inferior to him... Could it be that his love for her had been so strong that he had been able to overcome every prejudice? Had Alys Rivers seen a more… warmer side of him? That idea seems improbable to her.

And what had that Alys person been like? How had she invited the man who had slaughter her family into her bed? And more importantly, what had she seen in him? Rhaena frowns and takes a sip from her glass of wine as her eyes look at her cousin, trying to unravel the mystery of what that woman might have found attractive about Aemond Targaryen.

If she was objective, she assumed that the prince was not unpleasant to look at, his Valyrian features giving him that alluring aspect that most of the kingdom considered special. And then there was the poise and confidence with which he carried himself and that aura of mystery and seriousness that he exuded. That probably attracted the ladies too. Not that it worked on her, of course. To her, the presence of her cousin only seemed violent and exasperating.

He may be an attractive man, she thinks, but it only takes a moment in his presence for that to not be enough.

“Stop looking at me”

Aemond's voice jolts her out of her thoughts, her violet eyes meeting the sapphire blue of her cousin's.

“I wasn't looking at you,” she lies, breaking eye contact and bringing the wine glass to her lips.

“Yes, yes you were.”

“No, I was not”

“Mmm”

Rhaena shifts uncomfortably in her chair, “Are you done with your dinner yet? I would prefer not to extend our evening any longer than necessary.”

Aemond does not respond, but rather he stands up surprisingly and for a moment, the girl is sure that he will approach her with less than gentle intentions. Her cousin, however, turns his back on her, and heads towards the other room where he had appeared. Rhaena breathes a sigh of relief and stands as well, smoothing the folds of her dress and nervously toying with the strands of her hair.

Barely a minute later the sound of boots on the tiles alerts her of the return of her cousin, who walks directly towards her, extending a couple of books in her direction.

"Here. Take these to your room and read them”

Rhaena blinks several times, genuinely surprised by what she just heard. Books? Is her cousin giving her books? When he makes an annoyed noise with his mouth, she realizes that he still has his arm extended toward her.

“To what purpose?” she asks, finally picking up both volumes and reading the titles, “These are books about the Faith.”

“You will attend and participate in the celebrations for the Mother Festival,” Aemond agrees and adds, “With me.”

Rhaena can't help but giggle, “Thank you, but I have no interest in taking part in religious celebrations, much less by your side.”

“I didn't ask you if you wanted to participate or not, I'm just letting you know you will,” he replies dryly as he takes a step closer, glaring at her. “Do you think I want to spend more than the necessary time with you?”

“Then why insist that I accompany you?”

“Because it is our duty,” he responds simply as if that settles the matter, “We will do what is expected of us and I will not tolerate any more insolence from you, Rhaena.”

A chill that manages to gives her goosebumps runs through her body when she hears him say her name for the first time and in that threatening tone of his voice.

“Do you enjoy being so infuriating all the time?” The question escapes her lips almost in a whisper, her eyes again meeting the prince's.

“Almost as much as you enjoy strutting around Court, I imagine,” he replies with a cold, sideways smile.

"I don't…"

“I don't care,” he cuts her off, “Read the books and don't embarrass me during the Festival or I assure you that you will regret it dearly”

______________________________________________________

Please let me know what you think! And if you would like to maybe be tag in the next chapters :)

@ammo23 @qyburnsghost @niocel @ithoughtulikedme @avidreader73

Read in AO3

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fic #eventual smut #aemond kinslayer #resentment #ao3fic #rhaena of pentos #rhaena targaryen #aemond x rhaena #angst #drama #enemies to lovers

26 notes · View notes