"Your faithless love is the only hoax I believe in."
In which Princess Saera Velaryon falls in love with the fearful One-Eyed Prince.
-
*AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEMALE OC*
(This a an Aemond Targaryen story, all credit goes to House of The Dragon except...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-
Lucerys Velaryon was dead. He was dead and Aemond had killed him. The screams and cries of his mother when told of the news hurt him. He never meant to disappoint her. Never meant to murder Lucerys. Alicent's berating hurt, but the hurt could not compare with what he felt when he was told of the news.
Saera had somehow escaped. She was gone, long gone— fled through the hidden passageways that lurked behind the walls of the Red Keep. A passageway that Aemond did not even know was behind Saera's bookshelf. She had left him, she had fled him.
"Young prince," Criston Cole said softly, one hand rested on Aemond's shoulder for support. Aemond could only seeth. He was kneeling in her room, a catatonic state taking over his resolve as he held one of her night dresses in his hands. He was staring at her bed, the bed he had left her in before he left for Storm's End and murdered her little brother.
"No one knew that passage was there." Criston assured, trying to console his daughter's lover but Aemond was unresponsive as his hand wrapped around her dress with a white knuckle grip. His mind was racing, it had been littered with the image of his dragon ruthlessly biting unto Arrax and now it was littered with the image of how broken he had left his love.
Guilt. Sadness. Anger. Regret. How could Aemond even recover from this? He was a kinslayer, and he had lost the woman he had yearned for years. His emotions were weighing down on him, hitting him like a storm unforgivingly. He had murdered. Had murdered perhaps two people. Aemond stood up from his stance, his one eye shifting to Criston, "get out."
"Aem-"
"Get out." Aemond growled, and as Criston Cole scurried off, the prince released the fiery storm that raged within him. Aemond destroyed everything in her room. Every painting, every dress, every instrument. All of her favorite things were reduced to nothing but ash. Aemond tore through her stuff like an unwavering storm, until he turned to see the rabbit he had gifted her in it's cage. It broke him.
He dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed uncontrollably. How did this happen? He had her. He had her in his grasp, had her in his hold. She was his— until she slipped through his fingers. Where did he go so wrong? When did he decide to destroy her? When did he decide to sacrifice her?
Aemond hadn't cried in years. Not since the day he lost his eye. But as he kneeled there, in the ruins of what could have been— the tears could not stop flowing. He had hurt her, willingly. Had chosen others over her, the sickest part being that he knew well what he was doing.
Her face plagued his mind. That smile, those eyes, the way they shined when she looked at him— her laugh, how it echoed through the chambers. So many memories made themselves known as Aemond cried and sobbed, each one more hurtful than the other. Each one reminding him of the love of his life— of the loss of his life.
