CELTIGAR - House of The Dragon

Beast within

Back inside their chambers, Aemond and Rhea rid the room of the man's blood and cleaned themselves off in a daze. Both of them were quiet, almost in a trance.

"I never realised I'd married such a cold blooded murderer," Aemond said, trying to diffuse the tension with a small laugh.

Rhea turned to him, vexed at first, but smiled. Is this truly what their lives had become? Killing people together and laughing about it? They must have become mad, she thought. Maybe they always had been.

"I never realised I did, either, Aemond, until a few weeks ago," she responded with a dash of humour.

Silence set in again, before long, they sat back on their bed, their fingers intertwined. Aemond brushed his thumb on Rhea's knuckles, waiting for her to speak.

"It was the Hand all this time, Aemond," she began to speak softly, looking away from him.

She expected him to angrily get up and start cursing, threatening to kill the man but instead, he stayed sitting down, nodding her to continue, his jaw clenched, taking in her every word.

"I found out the day after I was stabbed, I already suspected it, as I had discussed it with Rhaenyra years ago," she continued and watched as her husband's face contorted with anger.

She told him all she knew in detail, and how she could not tell anyone before being sure given his position here in court.

"You could have told me," Aemond protested.

"I could not ask you to trust me blindly on a matter regarding your own grandsire, love," she stated. "I had to have proof, to bring them to Aegon, expose him without any chance of refuting my accusations."

Aemond smiled as she called him love again.

"But now," she spoke again. "Well, now he knows I know, it's different."

"Well, sending him his mercenary's body sends a pretty clear message, for sure, Rhea," Aemond's lips curved into a soft smile. "What I don't understand is why he would try to have you killed. It doesn't make any kind of sense to me."

Rhea paused to think.

"That I do not know, but I am certain he was the one to poison my father, I feel it in my bones. Rhaenyra also believed him to have slowly poisoned your father, Aemond. And I agree with her."

"The Hand is a cunning man, he had my mother marry the King, I wouldn't put it past him to have rushed the King to his grave for a chance to have his grandson on the Iron Throne."

"My thoughts exactly", Rhea nodded, her chin resting on her hand.

Aemond was mad, furious, even, yet he knew Rhea wanted to act of her own accord so he forced himself to remain calm, not to run to his grandsire's quarters and slit his throat himself. Everything in his body told him to, however.

"Here's what's going to happen now," Rhea spoke confidently, she had thought about how she would handle this a thousand times, and now, she was ready to end it, and it would be bloody.

Aemond sat back, listening to her plan and adding his own insight at some points, making sure everything would be perfect. No one could endanger her and live, not even his own blood. He had not meant for Lucerys, the poor boy, to die, but he sure now meant for Otto Hightower to.

Rhea gazed at him, she truly enjoyed the look he had on his face, a look of such anger it made him seem much more dangerous than he usually did, which was already quite enough, to be fair.

"Have I gone mad, Aemond? Planning someone's death and actually enjoying it?" Rhea asked, biting her nails.

"That's what the Iron Throne does, to anyone who lives in its reach. It changes you, makes you into someone you would never imagine to be." Her husband brushed his thumb on her jawline, making her shiver. "You have always had it in you, Rhea. You have always been the fiercest out of the two of us."

"I suppose, but-"

"Look at me. You only did what was necessary for your survival, that does not turn you into a monster."

She drew a deep breath, her eyes still in his.

"Living close to the Iron Throne only unleashed the beast within," Rhea thought out loud. "It had always been there."

Aemond kissed her forehead, his hand on the back of her head. He looked at her lovingly.

"Rest assured, though, my love. You are no beast."

She smiled weakly, cuddling up to him, running her index finger on his chest. She hoped he was right. The Iron Throne did turn anyone too close to it into something tragic. Viserys had been the first proof of it in her life, and he died because of it. Now, Aegon and Rhaenyra tore at each other for the right to sit on it, forever altering the course of not only their lives, but the whole Realm's. Too much blood had already been spilled by all of them, yet Otto Hightower had it coming his whole life, and he would get what was coming to him. Should it be the last thing she did, she would avenge her father.

The man was the reason Rhaenyra's crown had been stolen from her, he was the reason the King had died, she was sure of it. Whichever way he would try to rationalize his actions, they were unforgivable, and, as she had said before, Rhea Celtigar did not forgive easily, nor did she forget.

"We act tomorrow, Aemond. Not a moment later." Rhea stated calmly, her eyes looking out of her windows towards the Tower of the Hand, where Lord Hightower would wake up soon for the last time.