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Eye for an Eye II

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

Part I | Part III

Masterlist

Synopsis: Aemond has done the unthinkable and must deal with the consequences brought onto his family.

No "y/n" mentioned

Word Count: 1,789

Warning: Darkfic. Targaryen brother/sister incestuous marriage, pregnancy, foeticide, murder, gore.

AN: This part is shorter than the first, but there will be one final part to this series. Thank you so much for the feedback on this series thus far! Enjoy!

House of the Dragon requests are OPEN

The bursting of the guards through the door to the council chambers turned all heads to the intrusion.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alicent demanded, standing from her chair.

“It is the Princess, your Grace.” He looked to Aemond, “There’s been an attempt. The Princess is with the Maesters,”

“An attempt?” Alicent guffawed.

“Yes, your Grace,” The guard confirmed.

“What happened?” She tried to get clarity on the situation.

“And her sword?” Aemond hissed over his mother’s question, mirroring her as his chair squealed harshly with how aggressive he pushed it back.

“I know not, your Grace. Details are developing by the second,”

“Find him,” Aemond demanded, storming past the guard and out of the council chambers.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent directed with a nod to the door. “Alert the Kingsguard and find the beast.” She repeated her son’s command. The Lord Commander bowed and swiftly left the room, members of the Kingsguard following behind him just outside the doors.

Panicked chatter quickly filled the room between the council members. Alicent looked to her father, whose brow was pinched.

“Do not utter the words,” Alicent spoke to the Hand. Do not say that Aemond has brought this upon himself, was what was implied. Though they both knew this to be true, Otto nodded, keeping silent. Gathering order of the room, Alicent continued, “Once I know what has happened, I will call upon the council. Until then, you are dismissed.”

All of the members, with the exception of the Hand, bowed and quickly fled the room.

“Lord Larys,” Alicent called out. He was at the tail end of the group, but stopped once he heard the Queen Mother.

“Your Grace,” He bowed.

“Do what you must,” Was all the matriarch said to Larys Strong.

“So it shall be done, my Queen,” He bowed and hobbled out of the room, cane clicking until the sound disappeared with him.

Aemond could not prepare himself for the scene before him. As he turned to the passageway that would lead him to the maesters’ sector, he was met with a barrage of servants scrubbing the floor. The stench of blood hit him square in the face.

Ignoring their formal greetings, Aemond all but ran down the open walkway. Aerraxys’ protective chitters could be heard from the other side of the tower where he was standing guard. A small burst of pride for the creature blipped in Aemond’s chest, though it was fleeting. He pushed past the guards that held tight at the door. All movement stopped and eyes turned to the seething Prince.

Aemond was always thought of as ruthless, cruel even, but those words held little meaning until this very moment. The world would see just how ruthless and cruel the One-Eyed Prince could truly be.

Aemond’s lilac eye seemed to glow in the candlelit room as he searched for his wife.

“Your Grace,” The Grandmaester scurried over and bowed.

“Where is she?” He demanded, voice booming.

“We are doing all that we can, you Grace, but the Princess is in a precarious situation.”

“Speak plainly, Grandmaester. Where is my wife?” Spittle flew from between his teeth in a final warning.

“She is not in a state for viewing, your Grace,” The Grandmaester further explained, “Her midwives are seeing to her at this current moment. They are cleaning her up to the best of their abilities, but we must let them work diligently. Before you are brought to her, we must first discuss what has happened.” Aemond’s patience, as minute as it was to begin with, was wearing thin. The Grandmaester motioned him to a private chamber, away from open ears.

“The attempt on the dear Princess’s life is dire, my Prince. I will not lie. Her Grace was brutally attacked, a blade sheathed in her womb deliberately. The act itself pushed her into labor. That she still holds life is a miracle of the Seven, though I am woeful to say that the dear child did not survive. The Stranger had the babe in their grasp before the Princess was found, I’m afraid. He is with the Silent Sisters as we speak,”

“He?” Aemond’s voice just above a whisper. A son.

“My babe is yet to be born and you’ll rip them cruelly from my hands? Will you scoop them up the second they drop from me, Husband?” Your hoarse voice echoed through his mind. “You let your anger cloud your judgement, Aemond, and it will be to our detriment.”

Aemond was at fault, there was no denying it. He wouldn’t deny it. Not as his son lay shrouded before the Silent Sisters. Not as his wife lay at the mercy of the Mother. The words his wife spoke to him just hours previous rang true, regardless of the venom those words held. She had never led him astray before yet he still did not take heed.

“Yes, your Grace. My deepest, humblest condolences,” The Grandmaester bowed his head. Aemond merely blinked, head rushing. A fire built within him, silent and still, but just as deadly as a snake coiled and ready to strike death into its opponent.

“Bring me to her,” The Grandmaester nodded solemnly, leading the Prince to the Princess’s private room. The heavy door was cracked open just a sliver, wide enough to see the damage that beheld you. As he peaked in, Aemond felt he would collapse on the spot.

You, his adoring sister and dutiful wife, lay still as the dead, covered by a sheet from the waist up. Your skin -which was once glowing- was now pallid, ashen. Your lips were a shade of blue that only belonged to those who have crossed with the Stranger, and yet the Grandmaester affirmed that you were still within the realm of the living.

Midwives and their assistants were between your legs at the end of the blood soaked bed, working steadfastly. Dizziness overcame Aemond and he brought a hand up to the frame of the door to keep himself upright.

The amber eye, nearly as large as the window itself, did not escape Aemond. Aerraxys’ watchful gaze was kept on the room from where he had perched on the side of the tower, a shield of protection from any further harm. Aemond could see the midwives’ and young assistants’ nervous glances towards the ferocious beast as they continued to work.

“She’s been given milk of the poppy for the pain, and we will continue administering to keep her from waking to hasten her recovery. So long as a fever does not take, she will remain with us, my Prince. We hope that our prayers to the Mother do not go unanswered.”

“My son,” Alicent spoke softly behind him, jarring Aemond from the horrors he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Slowly, he turned to his mother. Nary a tear has ever fallen from Aemond’s eye. Not as a boy, and not as a man. To see the wall of unshed tears in his remaining eye caused her to bring a hand up to her lips to shield her sob.

“Your Grace,” The Grandmaester bowed to the Queen Mother and scurried off to continue his duties. Aemond softly closed the door to your healing chambers and walked past his mother without a word.

“Father says we are to be wed,” Aemond’s voice brought you out of your concentration. Setting your needlepoint down onto the table to your right you gave him your full attention. At nearly two and ten, Aemond had grown from the boy who bonded with the Mother of Dragons. He had nearly doubled in height in a blink of the eye, his features becoming more severe in favor of the soft, rounded features he had when he was younger. “Did you know this?”

“I did,” You confirmed, face neutral. Aemond shifted nervously and did not make eye contact with you. Had you known that his fear was not the marriage itself but the fear that you were forced into a union with him, your heart would’ve grown three sizes. Aemond always took you into consideration with everything he did, always mindful to not cause distress nor disappointment. He’d remove his remaining eye if it garnered your praise. Love Helaena had called it.

“And you are okay with this?” You could hear the shake in his voice and the thick gulp he took post question from clear across the room. “This union pleases you?”

“Aemond,” You spoke his name aloud to get his attention from the floor. Hearing his name leave your lips was like a caress of the sun’s rays on his face. “It was my choice,” The rush of air that left him had you standing to your feet. “Does this displease you?” You asked, taking tentative steps towards the youngest Targaryen son.

Standing before him, you brought your hand up to place over his heart. His rough hand met yours instantly in an embrace.

“It pleases me greatly, dear sister, though I am not worthy of your affections.”

Truthfully, Aemond had never been worthy of you. Not then as a boy, and not now as your husband. That thought was glaringly obvious to him as he stood on your shared balcony overlooking the city. You offered comfort and protection, while he offered pain and death.

His wife’s sworn Knight had indeed been found, crumpled at her door with his throat slit so deep it was a question as to how his head stayed attached to his shoulders. Your bloody footsteps that led to the secret passageway within the chambers had yet to be scrubbed from the floor when he had arrived. In his initial return, Aemond had followed them into the tunnels until the prints were no more. By pure instinct alone he knew where you had turned, which tunnels you took to bypass the hallways to make your journey to safety. As he neared the end of his journey, he kneeled down at the sight of a candle -dimly lit as it gave off the last bit of light it could before the wick was burned entirely. The wax had melted over the rim of the golden holder and onto the stone floor. He was correct.

A knock at the chamber door interrupted Aemond’s thoughts.

“Enter,” He called out. A Kingsguard entered the chambers, bowing his head quickly.

“They’ve been found, your Grace,” The fire that had been circling within the One-Eyed Prince had once more been stoked, a dangerous smirk gracing his lips. “I will alert the council at once,”

“No,” Aemond stopped the Knight in his tracks. “Bring me to them. I will bring this to the council myself. ”

Aemond would do what his sire would not. With fire and blood, he would bring vengeance for his son and justice for his wife.

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