The Tragedy of Liliyana Lannister 𓆗♡ AEMOND TARGARYEN ♡ 𓆗

Chapter Nine

The foreign woman smiled. "He is safely tucked away. As is Liliyana Lannister."

The air shifted at this news. "Liliyana Lannister?" Otto echoed. "Why would you have her?"

"The lady wished to pay her respects to her father figure at the Great Sept. But mercenaries caught up to her. She would had been raped and smuggled out of Westeros had my people not intervened."

His grandson was not aware yet. Had he been, the boy'd be tearing the city apart. "The prince is our focus. The Lannister can be picked up later."

Ser Erryk became visibly uncomfortable with the Hand's words. Lady Lannister was a kind girl. She took the time to differentiate Erryk from his brother and often sought him out for a friendly chat. They bonded over sharing siblings who were twins.

Ser Cole and Aemond looked on, following after the twins once ready.

~

Liliyana awoke to darkness. A migraine pounded at her head, making her groan.

"Shh!" a familiar voice whispered beside her. She felt their breath fan her face. "Quiet!"

"Aegon?" she said. Her voice was hoarse and sore.

Impending footsteps came. And like a bad dream, Liliyana recalled her failed escape. She recoiled in the dark, accidentally smacking the prince's stomach. He coughed and let out a groan. They had both been taken!

Liliyana felt a gust of air as the prince moved beside her.

"No!" he fought the arms trying to grab him. "No!" Liliyana also fought for him, reaching out for his clothes. But he slipped between her hands.

She felt her fingers tremble. Her nails, what was left of them, burned. She remembered scratching them against the stone street. A hand grabbed her next, gently pushing her out into the light. Liliyana fell onto hard stone. Her migraine and wooziness left her unable to lift her head. Candles and stone structures encircled her. This was the Sept, but that was impossible. She died back there at the hand of the mercenaries.

"My lady," another familiar voice said. They stood her up by her underarms. "You are safe now."

"S-ser Erryk?" Liliyana noticed the man's beard, but the rest of his face was a blurred mess of gray and candlelight.

"Yes." He guided her way, her body folded over like an elderly woman. "Let's get you back home."

She did not move. "Casterly Rock?"

The knight remained gentle, not wanting to frighten her. He wondered if her head injury was misplacing her thoughts. "No, to the Red Keep."

The girl's bottom lip wobbled and a flush overtook her bleeding and bruised face. "Why am I here? I remember fleeing and my head hitting the ground." She reached a hand to her head but stopped. Her fingernails, in the candlelight, were stripped down to the skin. Blood so dark it appeared black, crusted around the tips. She had no nails to speak of. A weak cry left her chest before falling to the floor. Everything hurt all at once all over again.

"My lady--" Swords outside stopped Erryk from reaching for her. "We need to go."

Her dress felt strange as she walked; the fabric twisted around her hips and dug into her female parts. Liliyana stopped again, just as they neared the exit. Between her strained ankle and everything else that hurt, she completely forgot about the man's intentions.

"How often do we get to fuck a highborn girl?" he had told his companion.

She collapsed again and wailed into the Sept's stone floor. The force of impact reopened the cuts on her face. Blood, tears, and snot blended together into a puddle on the ground. Fear, and the horrific truth that she was robbed of her body, made her want to die.

Ser Erryk watched the poor girl cry and dry heave on the floor, unsure of what to do. He watched his brother do battle with Ser Cole while Aegon wrestled his brother. The sight of Liliyana's husband should have been a relief for the man, but he worried what the prince would do once he saw his wife. But Erryk needed to do something. He could not just leave her here.

He went to help her up again when she began mumbling and calling out to her husband. Then to the late-king and her brother Tyland.

"My lady," he tried. "Aemond is here, just outside."

Liliyana raised her eyes. The evening sun blanketed the sky in pink and gray. Swords clashed together like they did in the Red Keep. She thought of Aemond. Of her beautiful husband training while she looked on from the seats. How would she face him now? Knowing what happened to her would ruin him. And the shame she felt right now would only magnify. Knowing, deep down, that she should have prevented it. Because she could have. She should not have left the castle.

Selfishness won. Liliyana wanted him to hold her, to tell her everything would be fine. That it would never happen again. And Liliyana wanted to maybe get to a place where she believed that.

She stood, hunched and limping while using Ser Erryk for balance. Aemond was, in fact, outside. What is he doing? Liliyana watched as he wrestled his brother. She walked to the edge and steadied her hands on the iron railing. Her fingers burned from flexing. Ser Erryk went at her speed, ready to catch her if she fell. But that was not necessary.

"Please," she told him. "Go back to the Red Keep. I will make it on my own."

He was visibly taken aback. "My lady?"

Liliyana tried smiling. "The last thing I want is for you to be blamed, in any way, for this."

Erryk knew she was referring to her husband. The woman was far too kind for her own good. He bowed and slank back into the Sept.

Liliyana clenched her hand tighter and took the first step, on her better leg. Then the bad one. She fought a wince and quickly stepped again. She continued like this for the first flight of steps. Swords and Aegon's pleas stopped. Ser Cole came up beside the brothers, urging them home.

"Wait!" she weakly called out. Their heads turned.

Aemond's heart sank as he watched his beloved collapse down the stairs. A yell left his lips as he ran to her. He slid beside her and stopped breathing. Her beautiful face was marred with bruising and blood. Her tears and running nose glistened.

"You are here," she whispered. Liliyana reached her hand to touch his skin, to prove it. She had no nails anymore, only a thick layer of skin and blood. Aemond let her brush them over his face, taking in her appearance, despite the bizarre sensation. "I am sorry," she continued, with a wailing sob. "I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Shh," he whispered, throat tight. He would not cry in front of his brother and Cole. His forehead touched hers, stilling the rage from consuming him. He recognized the shame in her eyes all too well. Aemond lifted her into his arms and said not a word to anyone. He did not trust himself to speak. He needed answers, but they would wait. Liliyana curled into his chest, crying.

The mad Targaryen had been unleashed.