"A dragon might not be the only thing you ride tonight."
|
Where the Dance of Dragons is stopped before it truly begins-with Rhaenyra as the Heir to the Iron Throne, Daemon Targaryen decides to stick it to Alicent and Otto Hightower one last time...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
|
The hour was growing late, and Daemon still had not called upon her like he said he would.
Daenaera made her way through the halls with stealth and caution, feeling the rough stone walls on either side of her as she moved. Her heart beat quickly in her chest as she slipped past guards and servants alike, the scent of incense and fire drifting through the air.
She wasn't quite sure if she were looking for Daemon or simply trying to calm her nerves.
Her feet were just carrying her forward.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her and she ducked behind a hidden alcove peering out to see who was coming.
Her brothers, Aegon and Daeron, were walking by, laughing and with cups of wine in their hands. They were clearly drunk as they stumbled through the hallways. Neither of them noticed Daenaera in the hidden alcove, simply walking passed her and continuing to wherever they were going.
Daenaera felt a fluttering in her chest and she bit her lip.
Sneaking around the halls was almost as exciting as being with Daemon.
She waited a few more moments before stepping out of her hiding place and making her way forward, still looking back where her brothers were turning a corner—and not at all realizing there was a third that had been with them.
Hands gripped her shoulders and she turned around with a sharp gasp, eyes widening to see Aemond standing there. Not drunk, at all.
"Aemond," She breathed out, gulping.
Aemond was a lot taller than she was. She always thought he held such a poise and danger to him, but perhaps that was because of his silent and mysterious demeanor. The brooding look on his scarred face was also a factor that made her nervous around him. She didn't spend much time with him as a child, but she still loved him like she loved all her siblings.
And...not to forget, he was the one she was to be betrothed to. Her hand was promised to him, and him alone.
With his face dark from the dimly-lit halls and a bit cold naturally, he whispered harshly, "Daenaera, what in the seven hells are you doing here?"
She gaped at him, stammering as she tried to pull away but his grip was too strong.
"I was just," she started to explain, but he cut her off.
"You were just what?" He demanded, leaning closer. His face close to hers, and his breath was hot on her face. She could see the slight anger in his eyes.
