𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

What Have I Done?

Aemond's anger and frustration were reaching a boiling point. He could feel the heat of his own fury radiating from him, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Alys Rivers stood before him, unmoving, her eyes fixed on him with a mix of fear and defiance.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aemond roared. "You tricked me into sleeping with you, promising me the return of my family, and yet nothing has happened. Why have you deceived me?"

Alys stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving Aemond's face. "I did not deceive you," she said firmly. "I did everything in my power to bring back your loved ones, but sometimes even magic cannot overcome the will of the gods."

Aemond snorted derisively. "And what am I supposed to do now? My wife and child are still dead, and I have been made a fool of a witch who can not even keep her promises."

Alys stepped closer to Aemond, her voice low and seductive. "Perhaps there is something I can do to make it up to you," she purred. "After all, I did give you a taste of what you have been missing."

Aemond's anger flared even hotter at her words. "You think that sleeping with me again will make up for what you have done?" he spat. "You are nothing but a whore, and I will have no more of your lies and tricks."

But despite his anger, Aemond found himself unable to resist the temptation of Alys's body. He grabbed her roughly by the arm, spinning her around, and pushed her forward until she was bent over the table. His hands roamed over her curves as he took her from behind, his breathing ragged with desire.

For a few moments, all thoughts of his dead wife and child were forgotten as Aemond lost himself in the pleasure of the flesh. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, mingled with Alys's moans and gasps. She arched her back, pushing herself back against him, and he responded by gripping her hips more tightly, increasing the force of his thrusts.

But eventually, the guilt and shame caught up with him, and he pulled away from Alys, his face twisted in disgust. He looked down at her, lying there on the table, and felt a wave of revulsion wash over him. What had he done?

"You are nothing but a whore," he spat once more before storming out of the room, leaving Alys alone with her thoughts and her magic.

Aemond stormed out of the room, his body shaking with rage and disgust. He made his way back to his own chambers, slamming the door shut behind him with such force that the walls shook.

Once inside, he began to pace back and forth, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The memories of what had just happened with Alys Rivers were still fresh in his mind, and he felt a wave of loathing wash over him.

He began to trash the room, overturning tables and chairs, smashing vases and other objects against the walls. His anger was so intense that he didn't even feel the pain in his hands as he punched the stone walls repeatedly.

All the while, he muttered curses and insults under his breath, directed at Alys and himself in equal measure. He had been a fool to trust her, he thought. A fool to believe that she could truly bring back his wife and child from the dead. He didn't love Alys. He loved Daenera. 

But even as he raged and destroyed his own possessions, he knew deep down that his anger was not directed solely at Alys. It was directed at himself as well, for allowing himself to be manipulated and deceived.

Finally, exhausted and spent, Aemond collapsed onto the bed, his chest heaving with exertion. He lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, his mind consumed with thoughts of what had just happened.

"Come back to me, Danny." He whispered.

~

As Daenera and Daeron continued their journey towards Harrenhal, the skies grew dark, and a heavy rain began to fall. The horses grew skittish, and the wind howled, making it difficult to see even a few feet in front of them.

Daenera urged her horse forward, trying to navigate through the storm. But as the rain came down harder and the wind whipped at her hair and clothes, she realized that it was too dangerous to continue.

She called out to her son, "Daeron, we need to stop here and wait out the storm. It's too dangerous to keep going."

Daeron nodded, and they quickly dismounted from their horses. She led them to a nearby tree, its thick trunk providing some shelter from the pounding rain.

Daenera sat down with her back against the tree, pulling Daeron close to her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, and used her cloak to shield him from the rain.

Daeron was shivering with cold and fear, but his mother's embrace gave him comfort. He snuggled closer to her, burying his face in her chest.

"I'm scared, momma." Daeron cried.

"Shhh. It's okay, my love, I got you. It will be over soon, I promise."

Daenera could feel her own fear rising in her chest, but she did her best to remain calm for her son's sake. She whispered softly to him, trying to distract him from the storm raging around them.

As the rain poured down, she sat there with her son, holding him tightly and sheltering him with her body. She could feel the water seeping through her cloak, soaking her to the bone, but she didn't care.

All that mattered was keeping her son safe and warm. She knew that they would make it through this storm together, just as they had made it through everything else that life had thrown at them.

Eventually, the storm began to die down, and the rain slowed to a drizzle. Daenera looked up at the sky, seeing the first rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds.

"Is it over?" Daeron asked.

"Yes, my love. It's over."