Dreams, Dragons, and Deceit || Aemond & Aegon Targaryen

Little Dragon

"I know you do; that's why I told you to stay. But you didn't." She shook her head. "Why didn't you?" he prodded. Visaera merely shrugged at him. "You love him, so why didn't you stay?"

"Because I would have been betraying you," she finally whispered, not bothering to deny that she did, in fact, love his brother. "Why did you tell me to stay?" The question had been gnawing at her all night.

"Because I don't want a marriage built on resentment and duty. I want you to want to be my wife."

"I don't understand." He looked at the ceiling, clearly not wanting to explain it to her.

"Once you and I marry, Aegon will face a betrothal of his own, Mother will insist. When that happens, he will become your past and I will be your future. I would not deprive you of proper closure." She laughed.

"You think fucking Aegon will bring me closure?"

"I think fucking Aegon will bring you happiness, for the time being," he replied, "the Gods only know why. He's a fucking idiot." She laughed and wiped her nose, realizing how close she had been to tears.

"So, what happens, now?" she finally asked.

"Now, I would like to go flying. And I want you to come with me..."

"I don't like this..." Visaera whispered, her uninjured hand clinging to Aemond's sleeve. He laughed, actually laughed, and it occurred to Visaera that she had never heard the sound before.

"She won't hurt you, I promise," he assured her. As she eyed Vhagar's massive jaws, Visaera was inclined to disagree with him. Trying to keep herself angled behind Aemond, Visaera inched forward, completely terrified. "When's the last time you rode a dragon?" He asked.

"Nearly a year now. But I don't imagine riding Syrax is anything like riding Vhagar." Since the twins' birth, Visaera and Rhaenyra hadn't flown together often. The focus had been on her studies.

"Dohaeris, Vhagar!" Aemond called, holding his hand out and patting the side of her face.

With jaws that could easily swallow her whole, Vhagar was both a marvel and a horror to behold up close. Visaera remained behind Aemond, clinging to him.

"Come on, little doe," he teased, "where's that blood of the dragon?" She glared at him as she finally stepped out of his shadow. "Come here..." He took her right hand, careful to avoid the splint on her finger, and pressed it gently to Vhagar's scales.

She had touched Syrax over a dozen times in her life, but something about Vhagar felt different. It felt like she was reaching back in time, connecting with the blood of Old Valyria.

"Rystas, Vhagar," she offered softly. Vhagar blinked at her once, and then turned her attention elsewhere as if Visaera was the most uninteresting thing she'd ever seen.

"Not so bad, is she?" Aemond asked, a small smile gracing his face. "Are you ready?" She shook her head and his smile widened into a feral grin. "Don't be scared, Vis. I promised, didn't I?"

With her injury, climbing up to Vhagar's saddle had been a challenge but, with Aemond's help, Visaera managed. Then Aemond was strapping them both in with Visaera snug between his legs.

"Sōvegon!" Aemond commanded. Visaera let out an inadvertent squeal as Vhagar finally lifted off. A year was a long time; Visaera had nearly forgotten what it felt like to fly. With one hand on the reigns, Aemond's right hand slid into her tunic, pressing against the top of her chest. She could feel the scab of his cut against her skin.

"What are you doing?" she asked, leaning back and turning her head so he could hear her.

"Feeling your heartbeat."