Love and War - Aemond/Aegon Targaryen

Chapter 1

Arlenna watched the sky shift and change above her. Clouds rolled by and their colours altered but everything felt the same to her. No matter how blue it grew above, her world was grey.
She looked in the grass for flowers, but even they seemed to have withered away.
The wind howled, whipping her hair and biting at her skin, but she stood still. Stagnant. Unable to move from the spot she'd occupied for the last three hours.
Like every day before, Aemond had crept into their room in the early hours of morning and left before the sun rose.
She had barely seen him since she'd returned... And since the tragedy, it had gotten even worse.
She'd tried her best to focus on Helaena instead, but the Queen didn't want her company. She didn't want anyone's company at all. She locked herself in her rooms most days and ignored her beloved family, just whispering over and over again about her poor son. Her poor Jaehaerys.
Arlenna didn't know what to do. Nor did Alicent. The two of them took turns to care for the children and tried to come up with ways to help Helaena, but it was little use.
People were beginning to call her mad.
The mad Queen.
The one who was so destroyed by grief that she'd locked herself away forever.
Meanwhile, Arlenna had been called every other name under the sun.
She'd lost a child too, and yet the world had not seen her grieve. They'd not watched her weep. She'd not locked herself away.
Instead she wandered the keep like a ghost, trying to maintain normalcy as best she could. She played with Visenya and Jaehaera and did what she could for young Maelor.
The world around her had not crumbled with losing Daenys. Her daughter had not been murdered in front of her as Helaena's son had been. No. She'd just died. Died like so many children did.
She'd not been torn asunder by it or by the attack upon her or the tragedy or the absence of her husband.
She'd just kept going. Kept living. Kept breathing.
Surviving, however, painted a bleak world.
Everything was grey. Everything was always grey. She couldn't find the colour or the life anywhere.
Each day was the same monotonous routine.
Each day she woke and walked around mindlessly. A shell. Empty. Cold.
She lifted her hand up, as if she might be able to touch the sky, and felt the wind rush between her fingers. It battered against her reddened skin, clawing at her as if it wanted to rip right through.
She closed her eyes and let it. Let it bash against her brutally.
Maybe it would blow her away.
Maybe she'd open her eyes, and she'd be gone. Gone forever.
At peace.
“Arlenna.” A voice tore through her silence. A voice she'd not heard in a long while. A voice she missed.
Slowly, she turned to face Aegon.
He was dressed in black, Aegon the Conqueror's crown atop his head, with tired bags beneath his eyes.
She wondered if they came from the responsibilities of being King, or from a night of drinking his problems away.
“Your Grace.” She curtsied, unable to quite meet his eyes. She stared down at the floor, at her shoes, at his shoes. Anywhere but at his face.
“What are you doing?”
She looked around her. At the grass and the sky and the sea.
“Just standing.” She answered. “And thinking.”
“Thinking about?”
“Life.” Her eyes trailed back towards the sky, her hair flying freely around her cheeks. “And death.”
“You shouldn't be out here alone.” He told her, holding out an arm for her to take.
She did so without protest. Without a word. Not a sarcastic remark. Not even a defiant glare.
Nothing.
Aegon rested a hand on her's and sighed.
A lot had changed.
Once, he would've loathed being in her company. Now, no matter where they were, he sought her. He looked for her in crowded rooms, stood outside her door when Aemond was away... Wondering if perhaps he should knock.
He'd watched her fade away before his eyes, as if she were going through the motions and nothing more. Merely existing.
Of course, Aemond was on a war path. So was he.
It had been the only time in their lives when the brothers had been wholeheartedly united. Their anger had been one.
It had been nice.
It had been something.
But when they'd killed Jaehaerys... When Aegon had lost his son...
All he'd wanted was Arlenna.
He couldn't even look at Aemond. A part of him thought his little brother knew.
No matter what, even if they were united, there was an animosity between them. A jealousy.
“What are you doing out here, Your Grace?” Arlenna asked, her voice gentle and frail.
Aegon glanced down at her, before quickly looking away when he found her looking right back.
“I saw you.” He answered honestly.
There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her. A thousand things he needed to hear.
But instead they kept walking.
Walking until they returned to the Keep, both arm in arm.
Aemond was walking towards them, his black coat billowing behind him and his violet eye alight with determination.
Aegon watched the way a small, hopeful, smile twitched it's way onto Arlenna's lips and it felt like a punch to the gut.
He wanted to stop right there and kiss her in front of Aemond. To kiss her and take her back to his rooms and for her to be his.
Instead, his brother sent them both a raised brow look. He held a hand out to Arlenna in silence, and waited for her to take it before positioning himself between Aegon and his wife.
The King stared up at his little brother, trying to hide the hate that stung at his throat.
A look of bitterness was mirrored between them as Arlenna stared back out away from the Keep.
She kept looking away, kept searching for something on the horizon.
“Brother, we need to talk. Daemon will strike again, it's only a matter of time. We must-”
“Tonight. We will talk tonight.” Aegon answered. “I will speak with Cole about defences and next steps. You take your wife. Go and see your daughter. See mother.”
Aemond looked over his shoulder at Arlenna, then quickly looked away. “I'd be more useful elsewhere.”
“You both would be.” Arlenna spoke with her arms folded over her chest. “You have a war to win and a throne to keep. And you,” She focused on Aegon, “have a wife who needs you.”
He but his tongue to try and stop the words, but they came out regardless.
“So does Aemond.”
The Prince's gaze shot back towards his brother but there was nothing he could do.
He was the King after all.
Aegon left them both behind with a huff of frustration.
It wasn't up to him to fix their marriage. He didn't care. If Arlenna didn't want his help, he wouldn't give it.
It wasn't his business. It wasn't his problem.
The Hightower girl stared hopefully at her husband. At the man she loved.
“What were you two-”
“He just walked me back. That was all.” She answered.
“He's King now. He can send guards to walk you back. He can send me. He doesn't need to be anywhere near you.”
“Nor do you, apparently.”
“Arlenna, you know that I'm doing this for you. For Visenya. For Daenys.”
She sighed, reaching up to gently touch his cheek.
She watched her husband tense at her touch and her heart crumbled in her chest.
“Aemond, I miss you.”
He missed her too. He loved her. He always would.
But when they were alone, when he saw the sorrow in her eyes and the scars on her skin, all he could feel was anger.
They'd done that to her.
They'd hurt her.
They'd tried to take her away from him.
Just like her father.
Just like Aegon.
The fire burning in his chest wouldn't go away.
Not until they were all dead.
So, instead of answering with words, he leaned down and kissed her. Kissed her with all the love and pain and heartache that he hid from the world each day.
And then he left.
Left her alone again.
Arlenna watched him go. Watched him leave her.
She wondered if she'd ever get her husband back.
She wondered if this was her life forever now.