"A dragon might not be the only thing you ride tonight."
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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...
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When Aemond noticed his sister was missing from her place at his side at the feast, he asked around in wonder of where she had gone. It was his mother, Alicent, whom told him that Daenaera felt ill and had gone to her chambers early.
He had stayed until the end of the feast, as was his duty—despite not giving a shit about Rhaenyra or her baby—and after, he went off in search of Daenaera.
If she was truly ill, then it was his duty as both her elder brother and her betroth that he go to check on her.
He arrived at her chambers, bringing with him a cup of a good clear wine for her to drink and that would perhaps make her feel better. And he knocked softly at her door.
"Daenaera," He called to her formally. As, truth be told, he was always awkward and nervous when it came to her. She was so sweet and pure, his sister. Often times, he felt like keeping his distance was best, especially since he felt like even just gazing at her from afar would ruin her. He was even convinced that his sister was quite scared of him. "Sister, are you decent? May I come in?"
There was silence.
Only the clinking of some guards down the hallway who passed the corridor.
Aemond sighed softly, not really wanting to bother her too much. Especially if she were already abed. "Daenaera, sweet sister, can you come to the door please?"
Again, there was no answer.
He smacked his lips softly.
For a few seconds, he contemplated whether or not he should just enter the room or leave her be. But his protectiveness reigned over all else, and he simply prayed that she wasn't indecent—as he opened the door.
When he entered, it was even a breath of a second that he noticed her, even in her dark room, as she laid on the floor with labored breaths and pale as snow in the North.
"Daenaera?" Aemond called, heart sinking. He dropped to her side immediately, pulling her into his lap while shaking her. "Daenaera, wake up!" He urged her, but she only let out a pained whimper in response.
His panic arose tenfold.
"Guards!" Aemond yelled, voice booming. "Call a Maester, quickly!"
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"Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor."
Those words rang in her mind over and over, as in the next morning she sat against the headboard of her bed with Maester Gyldayne sitting on a chair beside her. Even now, as she was ill in chambers, all she could think about was the fight she had with Daemon.
