Dearest Boy
Summary: MatĂas loves his mother and sisters, but the same can not be said about his father.
A/N: This is a continuation of the AU One-Shot I wrote, Dark Paradise. So if you havenât read that yet I highly suggest you do.But basically the Greens won, Aegon was never burned in battle, Helaena is alive but mentally isnât doing well, Jaehaera is the only child of Aegon and Helaena who survived, and the most important thing to remember is Adrian never managed to go back to her world.Also, for those who are wondering MatĂas face-claim is Tom Blyth.
Warnings: Childbirth, miscarriages, children wanting to commit patricide, mentions of non-con and drugging by milk of the poppy, Aemond being a shitty husband by getting Adrian pregnant despite her physical and mental health, a severely depressed Adrian, surprisingly Aemondâs a good (?) father mainly to his daughters but that doesnât excuse his possessiveness/obsessiveness toward his wife, incest (duh this is HotD).
The birth of Adrianâs only son took half as long as the birth of her twin daughters. Her water broke in the middle of a luncheon in the room she was being kept in by the orders of her husband. She screamed at the first contraction and didnât stop screaming until after the sun went down.
There were hardly any stars that night as a storm had formed, loud as the woman who was bringing new life into the world. A world that was not the one she was born into. A world she was not allowed to leave and go back to her real home because of her husbandâs selfishness. Â
âA healthy baby boy, my prince and princess.â Grand Maester Orwyle informed the married couple once he gave the infant a quick clean. His skin was as fair as snow with tufts of silver hair on his head. âHe has your coloring, my prince.â
Aemond stared at his son, blinking and eye shining but with no tears shed. His sonâs squirming and crying hadnât ceased since taking his first breath. Aemond released a breath he didnât realize heâd been holding in. âA son.â He whispered, amazement slipping through when trying to reach for him but the one-eyed prince didnât get to him in time.
âMatĂas.â Adrian suddenly declared, voice steady even after having given birth. The excruciating pain she felt from below went ignored by her. She pushed her exhausted body up, drenched in blood and sweat against the wooden headboard.
A few midwives tried approaching, insisting she needed to lie down but Adrian was quick to shoo them away.
âHis name is MatĂas, in honor of my mother Marta.â Unlike the last time she gave birth, Adrian would not allow Aemond to take away her chance in naming her child.
My MatĂas, Adrian spared a glare at Aemond before softening her eyes when looking at her son.
Aemond had been adamant in holding her while she gave birth. He finally backed off when she slapped him during mid-push, taking off his eyepatch and revealing his sapphire. He kept his distance since then and hadnât bothered to put his eyepatch back on.
âGive him to me.â Adrian who at twenty-five years old, now a mother of three, ordered with her arms out. âGive me my son.â Her hoarse voice from all the screaming sheâd done for the last eight hours left little room for argument from either the grand maester or Aemond.
The moment her baby boy was in her arms his crying and squirming had come to an end. His eyes slowly opened and when he looked up Adrian could see the indigo in them. She smiled tearfully, not thinking of her asshat of a husband but instead her daughter Visenya who shared the same eye color as her brother. She gently kissed his forehead, snuggling him closer as she whispered words of love and protection.
Aemond reluctantly stood from afar because of her earlier slap, frowning and ever watchful.
Not once on the stormy night her dearest boy, her precious son, was born did Adrian let Aemond hold, or even come anywhere near him.
MatĂas was hers not Aemondâs, and he never would be.
ââšââăâ ⍠âăâď¸ăâ ⍠âăâââšâ
Ten years later
From an early age MatĂas was aware that he did not like his father. And the older he got the more he thought hate was a much better appropriate word for how he felt about him.
The list of people the boy of only ten years old hated was short, but the list of people he did love was not very long either.
There werenât many people he trusted in Kingâs Landing aside from his mother and sisters.
His great grandsire Otto was stern, too stern in his opinion. At his old wrinkly age he wasnât a joy to be around. So MatĂasâ solo interactions with him were infrequent.
As for his grandmother Alicent, the Dowager Queen now that his aunt Helaena had taken her place, was not someone MatĂasâ liked being around for long periods of time. She could get quite overwhelming, and frankly her attempts at bonding were as irritating as his fatherâs. They both acted as if things were fine, neither ever acknowledging the misery theyâve brought upon his mother.
When it came to his aunt Helaena, as much as MatĂas wanted to form a connection with her, the older woman was rarely there, lacking sound of mind. Heâd been told by his mother that his aunt lost both of her sons during the war, and because of that she was no longer the same as before.
Jaehaera, his soft-spoken cousin, was the only child left of Helaena and Aegon Targaryen. Whenever Helaena was with Jaehaera he was able to catch a glimpse of what he thought was the old Helaena, lilac eyes bright and face full of vibrant peculiarity. But even those moments with her daughter never lasted.
His aunt Helaena might as well have been a stranger to MatĂas. The same thing could be said about his uncle Aegon. However unlike with his aunt Helaena who MatĂas tried getting to know, he downright ignored his uncle Aegon as much as he could.
Between his siblings, his sister Valaena interacted the most with their impertinent uncle. Valaena more than once had dumped water on Aegon in order to wake him during the middle of a meal, or did some sort of prank on him while MatĂas watched from the side, amused.
For not even the entertaining pranks on his uncle by one of his sisters was enough to have MatĂas approach him. Aegonâs drinking was the reason for that. Inebriated people disturbed MatĂas greatly and Aegon, even after winning the war, still went deep into his cups.
Truthfully the only family member on his fatherâs side MatĂas liked being around was his uncle Daeron. Aside from him being an overall pleasant person, Daeron also frequently talked about Julieta with him.
His motherâs younger sister and MatĂas' aunt, who his uncle Daeron was fortunate enough to meet way back. But with his smiles came the longing in his eyes whenever talking about the youngest Reyes sister.
Daeron may have never told him his true feelings for motherâs sister who remained in her world, but MatĂas figured it out on his own at a young age. Â
At the very least his uncle Daeron wasnât like his father.
An obsessive twat. Â
Daeron ended up marrying Floris Baratheon, the youngest of the Four Storm sisters. They now had two boys together. Even though it was obvious to MatĂas that Daeronâs heart belonged to someone else, not once in his marriage with Floris had he hurt her.
Once upon a time MatĂas had wondered, what if his aunt Julieta had stayed in this world like his mother? Would uncle Daeron have turned out like his father?
MatĂasâ mind changed completely once seeing his uncle Daeron comforting his mother. Â
Daeron didnât live in Kingâs Landing with them, but rather in Oldtown with his wife and sons. To this day he visited whenever he could and would always bring new books with him to give to his mother, and with books came the sweets. Heâd give them to her, and then kept his mother company in the gardens, often talking about Julieta. And everytime they did it ended with him saying he hoped she was healthy and happy.
This was proof enough that Daeron truly was kind and had no ulterior motives. The same could not be said about his father. Daeron and Aemond were brothers but they were so vastly different. He didnât even share many qualities with Aegon either, which MatĂas thought was a good thing.
Today Daeron had come to visit them but he didnât stay for long. On dragonback he returned to Oldtown to his wife and two sons before dinner was served. Daeronâs she-dragon Tessarion was one of the few dragons that were left after the war.
A total of six dragons remained, three of which were new dragons.
Vhagar in her old age surprised everyone, her rider the most, by laying a clutch of a total of three eggs a fortnight after MatĂas was born.
Three eggs. Â
One for MatĂas, which was placed next to his cradle and the other two for the twins who did not get to have dragon eggs of their own when they'd been born a year ago.
Another fortnight passed before all three eggs hatched simultaneously. Â
Visenyaâs she-dragon Saphira, who Aemond named for her before Adrian ever had a chance to, was a stunning steel blue. Valaenaâs own she-dragon, Dawnfire, who Aemond also named, was an intriguing mixture of bronze, orange and yellow colors. Â
It was MatĂasâ dragon, the only male of the clutch, that let everyone know who mustâve sired the eggs with Vhagar.
MatĂas' dragon Aurelius was given the name by Adrian in honor of her grandmother Aurelia. Aemond hadnât taken that opportunity away from her, much like when naming her son.
Aurelius was black with only his tail having the same coloring as Vhagar, and was already twice the size of his female siblings. His eyes instead of a green and brownish color was a pure copper, exactly like Vhagar.
The three new dragons stayed with the older dragons in the Dragonpit which had been rebuilt. Vhagar and Cannibal were able to reside in the Dragonpit because of how spacious they made it.
Cannibal though was now kept locked away from the other dragons, and MatĂas knew this was done on purpose. He never saw his mother ride her ferocious dragon, and whenever he asked her about him all she could get out was how lonely her sweetface of a dragon must be. Once his motherâs dark brown eyes filled with tears he stopped asking further questions about the Cannibal.
MatĂas hated seeing his mother cry but unfortunately it was something he witnessed a lot growing up, especially while in the presence of his father.
The family of five was now having dinner in his grandmotherâs apartments. The Dowager Queen was not with them, having gone off to be with Helaena who was having a bad day, more so than usual. The Queen often had days where she could not get out of bed, mumbling the names of the sons she had lost because of the war.
His great grandsire Otto preferred having dinner alone in his solar. Quite frankly, MatĂas preferred that too.
Aegon was shockingly not passed out drunk in his chambers but instead made his way to the royal gardens to be with his daughter. Jaehaera had mentioned to them about wanting to watch the bugs that light up in the night as she ate her dinner.
MatĂas' mother said in her world they were called fireflies.
Jaehaera, in similarity to what Helaena used to do, frequented the royal gardens, mornings and afternoons, reading about the bugs Helaena once loved to talk about according to his mother.
His uncle Aegon tagged along with Jaehaera during these visits, but would keep quiet, his gaze on his daughter one of sadness. And he knew this because of his sister Visenya.
Like Jaehaera, Visenya also loved the royal gardens. She and Jaehaera spent a lot of time there together, sometimes even with Aegon who looked like a melancholic statue of himself.
But as Visenya spoke all she could mention about today was the positives, even if they were small. MatĂas' sister Visenya was the ray of sunshine his desolate family desperately needed.
âI saw a beautiful butterfly today that reminded me of Saphira but I didnât have the heart to keep her so I let her go.â
Aemond hummed, smiling at his eldest daughter, the most sensitive of the twins. His sweet Visenya. He turned to look at his wife, his smile dimming at the far away look he saw.
âMy love?â He squeezed her hand. âDid you hear what our daughter just said?â
As if she were slapped Adrian reacted with a jerk, her posture straightened. She controlled her breathing when Aemond gave her hand another squeeze. She didnât spare him a glance, only looking at her daughter. âYesâŚof course.â She gave what little smile she could muster these days. âThat was nice of you, to let the butterfly go. A lively creature like that shouldnât be kept in captivity.â
Any other words were shoved down her throat when Aemond cleared his own throat, his hand squeezing hers again. She could only blink as he leaned down to press his lips to her cheek.
There was a clang and everyone at the table turned to MatĂas, the reason for the noise. His goblet had fallen onto the table, spilling his water. He simply shrugged shoulders, holding back his smile from seeing his mother use the distraction to remove her hand from his fatherâs.
Aemond waved over a serving girl to clean up the mess. As he did so he caught his daughter, the youngest of the twins, Valaena, staring at him. Well, it was more glaring than simply staring. She was stabbing her piece of lamb on her plate repeatedly with her knife, narrowing her dark brown eyes at him with every twist she did.
âValaena, what did I say about playing with your food?â Aemond questioned his daughter who possessed so much fire in her. Some days though she resembled a rabid wolf than a dragon.
Valaena stabbed her piece of lamb again, a lot harder than before and never breaking eye contact with him. From beside her Visenya passed a napkin which Valaena took with a quiet thank you. She set the napkin on her lap, and then continued stabbing her piece of lamb. Â
Aemond opened his mouth, ready to scold his daughter to quit acting out but his wifeâs soft voice beat him to it.
âValaena.â
Unlike how she reacted to her father, Valaena listened to her mother with no retorts, or questions.
âYes mother.â
The youngest of the twins set aside her knife and grabbed a fork. She resumed eating the already cut pieces, making sure to nod her motherâs way before giving her father another glare. Â
Aemond merely huffed, returning his attention toward his wife again. Like before Adrian was in her own world again, looking ahead but with nothing in mind.
His sister Helaena and his wife shared this in common. He, however, thought Helaena to be more vacant than Adrian. That did not discourage him from kissing his wifeâs cheek again.
Aemond didnât see Visenya's expression change into concern when looking at her mother, or the glares his other two children were giving him.
The rest of dinner went quietly with the exception of Visenya who occasionally added a comment in an attempt to break tension.
MatĂas looked over to his motherâs plate that had barely been touched. This sadly wasnât surprising. His mother barely ate nowadays, not even when her favorite meals were served to her. She disliked meat, so she was always served fruits and vegetables but that did nothing to get her appetite back. However, as long as his father saw her take a bite or two he would be satisfied.
âCome my perzys hen Ăąuha prĹŤmia, I wish for us to head back to our chambers. The children will see themselves out once they finish their desserts.â
Aemond smiled, his arm wrapping around Adrianâs waist to guide her to stand. His hand settled on her stomach as he led them to their chambers. His smile almost vanished at the flatness he felt. There was no bump but soon enough there will be, tonight would ensure that.
From the way Adrian walked slowly, trying to separate herself from him it seemed he would need to have tea dosed with the milk of the poppy be made for her tonight. That always did the trick to make her more compliant to his affections, something he started doing a few years following MatĂasâ birth. After Aemond beheaded Alys, the raven haired and emerald eyed witch who corrupted his lovely wife. Â
Adrian caught on quickly to what he was doing to her, resulting in him needing to have her be held down so he could force the tea down her throat. Lately, sheâd been fighting less as if realizing there was no point in trying to get him off her. He would have her whether she wanted it or not. Â
Some may view it as an immoral thing to do, maybe even rivaling Aegonâs terrible ways but unlike his eldest brother who treated women with a cruel hand, Aemond was nothing but loving and generous to his wife even when she was nearing an unconscious state. He always made sure Adrian was wet enough by licking her pearl of nerves, waiting until she peaked in her haze. Afterwards he would finally sink into her, tight as ever until her peachy slick leaked along with his seed.
Aemond had been telling himself for years now that there was nothing wrong with his actions, for Adrian was his wife and this was her duty. She would do what a wife must to please her husband, even if she needed to be on milk of the poppy to do so.
MatĂas glared at his fatherâs tall retreating form. He wanted to rip him away from his mother, knowing even in his young mind how much she hated being near him. MatĂas had seen her looks of disgust, the way she would recoil from his touches. He wasnât blind like his father was despite his remaining eye.
Alas, MatĂas was only a boy of ten years, and there was only so much he could do. Heâd frequently repeat this in his head to feel less guilty, but nevertheless he felt like he was failing his mother. He switched his gaze over to Valaena, who he was aware she felt the same as him.
âVisenya, why donât you head back to your chambers.â Valaena suggested in a casual manner once their mother and father were gone.
Visenya frowned a little, glancing down at her plate. âBut I havenât finished my dessert yet. Itâs marzipan cake. Father had it especially made for us.â
Marzipan cake was a dessert that both twins favored, although Valaena didn't show as much gratitude, or any really, to their father as Visenya did. Neither Valaena or MatĂas faulted her for this since Visenya was a naturally kind person to everyone . Her kindness even extended to their uncle Aegon.
Someone could literally yell at Visenya and sheâd find some reason to apologize to them. Anyone that did dare yell at her would suffer the dire consequences from MatĂas and Valaena.
The point was they seriously doubted Visenya had a single mean bone in that small body of hers.
Now MatĂas didnât enjoy marzipan cake as much as the twins, being more partial to strawberry pudding. But that didnât really matter to his father. Were MatĂasâ feelings hurt that his father didnât serve his favorite dessert as much as his twin sisters? No, not really. Seeing Visenya happy was a sight to behold, and Valaena would agree with him.
Valaena gave her older twin a shrug. âTake it with you then. Here, you can take my slice.â She slid her plate that had her slice of untouched marzipan cake. She wasnât going to eat it anyways, she hardly ever ate desserts that were made from her fatherâs orders. If her mother had especially made it for her that wouldâve been a different story.
MatĂas slid his own plate over to his eldest sister, smiling for her sake. âTake mine as well.â
Visenya returned the smile, kissing both of her siblings on the forehead before skipping off with her plate that now had three slices of marzipan cake.
It didnât take much convincing the servers that were there to leave. There were guards but they were stationed outside, meaning the young siblings were able to speak freely now that it was just the two of them in their grandmotherâs apartments.
âI hate him.â MatĂas hissed like a snake ready to sink its venom in its prey, or in this case its enemy.
âThe feeling is mutual.â Valaena agreed, her tone as acidic as his.
MatĂas pursed his lips the exact same way his mother would. He looked at where his mother had sat and then over to fatherâs chair. His indigo eyes darkened. âMaybe heâll have an accident and fall down the stairs.â
âOh, baby brotherâŚâ Valaena smiled, though it did not reach her dark brown eyes. âIf only we were that lucky.â Her face then hardened as much as it could at the age of eleven. âBut even so, him falling down the stairs to his death would be too quick, too peaceful in my opinion.â
MatĂas realized the same as her, and then started thinking of different ways his father could perish, more painful and unimaginable.
The air in the room suddenly got cold but MatĂasâ blood hadnât stopped boiling. âI donât like mother being alone with him.â
Valaenaâs expression was a mixture of anger and anguish. âMe neither.â She responded, knife in hand, stabbing what was left of her lamb. Her fatherâs face was who she pictured with each stab and twist.
Later on in the night MatĂas had awoken from a terrible nightmare. In this terrible nightmare his father was hurting his mother. Her cries for help echoed in his head as he got out of bed and ran to his parents chambers.
MatĂas wanted to see his mother to make sure she was okay but two guards prevented his entrance. He was escorted back to his chambers where he was forced to stay with an awful feeling in his stomach.
The young boy of ten cried himself to sleep, worrying about his mother.
MatĂas had no idea just how right he was to worry. His mother had been drugged, and left vulnerable to her husbandâs lustful urges. That night in her half-conscious state, lying next to a man she did not love, feeling used and dirty, Adrian cried herself to sleep as well.
ââšââăâ ⍠âăâď¸ăâ ⍠âăâââšâ
Nine years later
At nine and ten MatĂas knew the fucked up lengths his father would go through to keep his mother tied to him.
His good-hearted mother, who wasnât doing so well. Her body was much like a wilting flower, and her mind wasnât doing any better either. Â
And his father was to blame for all this.
At his motherâs late age of four and forty she suffered the loss of yet another child. Her fourth miscarriage after having him, with this pregnancy not even lasting two months.
This very morning MatĂas had awoken to his father yelling for the maester and when he ran into his parentsâ chambers he got a glimpse of his mother. Her white nightgown and bed had been stained with so much blood. There was an empty look to her and she was unresponsive to his father. The one-eyed mad man showed more emotion, more anger as he paced around, pulling at his long silver strands.
MatĂas only managed to choke out his motherâs name, her dark brown eyes, dull as ever, switched over to him as he was pushed outside by orders of his father. He called out for his mother once more, only to have the doors shut in his face as his father attempted to console her. But MatĂas, unlike his father, wasnât blind and even with the doors closing in on him heâd seen the way his mother cringed at his touch. Â
Knowing there was no use in trying to enter his parents' chambers now that it was guarded and locked, MatĂas had instead gone to the training yard. With a sword in hand he began striking the training dummy, imagining it was his father. How he desperately wished he was the one to bleed instead of his mother.
Thatâs where Valaena found him.
MatĂas didnât need to turn around, he just knew his sister stood a few feet behind him. He heard growing up that it was twins who were always able to sense each otherâs presence. That was true when it came to Visenya and Valaena, but it was also true with MatĂas and both of his sisters.
âVisenya is with mother.â Valaena reported, her throat dry and hurting from preventing her crying. Her motherâs weak form in her sisterâs arms lingered in her head. âThe grand maester gave her some essence of nightshade.â
MatĂas hadnât stopped his striking, imagining his sword was gouging out his fatherâs remaining eye. âThere was a lot of blood, way more than last time.â
âSheâs getting older.â Valaenaâs usual sternness on her face was replaced with concern for their mother. âComplications in pregnancies arise in women the older they get. She shouldâve not been pregnant to begin with, not after the last pregnancy.â
Their brute father hadnât even waited a year to get their poor mother pregnant again. Her last miscarriage, despite lasting five months, didn't leave her bleeding as much as this failed pregnancy had.
âThis is killing her. Heâs killing her!â MatĂas stabbed the training dummy right where his fatherâs heart wouldâve been.
Valaena looked around the training yard, glad no one else was there to hear them. They were no doubt in the castle, talking amongst themselves about the tragedy of the day. âIf he has any love for her as he so-called claims, maybe heâll stop now.â
MatĂas finally turned to look at Valaena, sword lowered to the ground. His breathing was erratic, face red, and indigo eyes blazing. âAll he cares about is what he wants, what makes him happy, not her own happiness.â
That certainly was the truth. Their father was a selfish man, the most selfish person theyâve ever met. He couldnât go more than a few days without being near their mother, suffocating her with his supposed love.
âI have trouble remembering the last time she smiled.â Valaena admitted in a somber tone.
Their mother would give small quirks here and there for their sake but an actual smile? One as blinding as the sun didnât happen these days anymore, not like before.
MatĂas recalled a time when his mother did smile, laughed even, and was content despite their fatherâs presence.
âI have memories of her smiling when I was little.â MatĂas began, voice softening along with his expression. âWhen she was withâŚâ
Emerald eyes, and hair dark as a raven flashed in his mind. For a moment MatĂas thought he heard a tuneful laugh fill the air.
Valaenaâs eyes widened, her twenty year old self remembering her youth. âYou know mother doesnât like talking about her . It only makes it worse for her.â
MatĂas clenched his jaw. âAlysâ memory shouldnât cause her distress but it does because of him.â
Alys sadly wasnât in his life for long, just until he was five. He was able to remember her well enough though. MatĂas remembered the close relationship Alys had with his mother. Even as a child he knew there was something more than platonic going along between his mother and her handmaiden.
MatĂas found their presence to be soothing, and craved being near them. But his father had eventually found them out, and he put an end to the harmony they were able to create.
At five years old MatĂas witnessed his mother become so distraught as Alys was dragged away. Â He hadnât gone to Alysâ execution but his mother had been forced to attend by orders of his father.
The sounds of his mother crying, screaming, and begging his father to stop from outside had drifted into his chambers. Her cries and screams haunted his dreams for years to come.
What made things worse was that his father kept his mother away from him and the twins for a full month afterwards. He claimed he did this so the witchâs influence would leave his motherâs mind, body, and soul. But MatĂas and his sisters knew there was no influence.
Alys hadnât put a spell on his mother. His father just didnât want to believe that his mother had willingly been with Alys, that she had real feelings for her. Â
âShe loved her, Valaena.â MatĂas earnestly voiced.
Valaena lowered her dark brown eyes, sighing. âI know she did.â
No more words were uttered between them.
Valaena initiated the hug, finally allowing herself to cry in a moment of vulnerability with her brother.
Usually Visenya was the one to start the emotional moments between them but she was currently with their mother, offering her comfort during this time of despair.
It was because of this that the hug felt incomplete, but it would have to do. When it was over Valaena excused herself, and made her way back inside the castle to have a moment to herself.
MatĂas stayed in the training yard. His sadness faded, and he picked up his sword to continue releasing his anger. He didnât know how much time had passed, just that when he saw his father approach the sun was already setting.
The training dummyâs head was decapitated by him the moment his father stood next to it. The reaction MatĂas got from the one-eyed prince was a mere eyebrow raise, as if saying, now what?
MatĂas set aside his sword to grab another training dummy. He shouldâve known better to assume his father would keep his stupid mouth shut.
âThe grand maester says your mother should feel better in a few days. The blood loss looked much worse than it actually was. She just needs her rest.â
What a load of horse shit.
MatĂas wanted to punch him in his face until he felt something break. His mother would never feel better with his father around. It was known around court about the distressed crying and sounds of passion often coming from his parents chambers.
The crying being done by his mother and the sounds of passion coming from his father. The man was a leech, hardly ever letting his mother have a moment of peace once in their chambers.
âIn a few months we can try again.â
MatĂas wanted to strangle him.
We? There was no we. It was just him who wanted another child brought into this madness. All his exhausted mother wanted was to be away from him.
âYour mother is still fertile. I know she can give me another child, another son.â
She doesnât want another child, you dimwit!
âA son who doesnât cause his own mother grief.â
MatĂas let out a growl as he dropped the training dummy heâd been holding. He turned around so quickly, leaping at his father with his dagger now out. The very same one his uncle Daeron had gifted him on his twelfth nameday. His father never gifted him any weapons and he had to admit he was smart not too.
The one-eyed mad man had a lot of nerve saying that shit considering he was the one to always start an argument between them as his poor mother watched from the sidelines.
âThe only one who causes her grief is you!â
Aemond stopped his eye from widening. He forced himself to stare harshly into his sonâs matching eyes. It was almost like looking in a mirror. âTaoba, what in the Seven Hells do you thinkââ
âShe loathes you.â MatĂas hissed in his face. âWe all loathe you.â
Aemond grabbed at the dagger, not caring that it was digging into his palm. Blood spilled and try as he might to push it away, the dagger stayed in place. âYou spew lies. You may have your issues with me, Valaena as well, but your mother loves me. As does your sister Visenya.â
MatĂas laughed in his face, eyes wild. âDespite having one eye, your vision is shit. You might as well have no eyes. Mother doesnât love you, sheâs broken because of you. As for Visenya, she pities you. Thatâs the only reason sheâs so fuckinâ nice. But make no mistake, just because she takes the time to read with you and joins you on walks, doesnât mean she loves you more than mother.â
As much as it irked him, Aemond couldnât really argue with that last part.
The only one of his children that didnât treat him harshly was Visenya, but even her love for him wasnât unconditional. It couldnât hold a candle for the love she had for her mother. If it ever came to it (Aemond hoped it never did) and she had to make a choice of saving him or Adrian, she wouldâve chosen her mother.
MatĂas continued to hold his dagger to his fatherâs throat, so close to slashing him wide open until he hit bone. But he withheld the move, staring deeply, with nothing but hate into his lone eye.
âYou have lived too long father but not long enough to think about the pain and misery youâve caused mother. Donât be fooled.â MatĂas let go and backed away slowly, not once losing eye contact with him. âThe day will come when you reap what you sow, and when it does Iâll be there, reveling in your undoing.â
MatĂas steadily watched his father as he departed the training yard with a stoic look. When he turned around he heard yells and the sound of things being thrown but he never looked back. He hurriedly made his way to his mother. Â
The one thing MatĂas could at least be content about was the break his father gave his mother whenever she suffered a miscarriage. Heâd come back to smother her with his attention within a day or two. So MatĂas would use this time wisely.
As expected there were guards outside the chambers his mother shared with his father. They didnât stop him from entering. The first thing he saw was Visenya sitting next to their mother, holding her hand while she slept.
MatĂas approached, and spoke in a whispered tone. âHowâs she doing?â
Visenyaâs indigo eyes connected with his own. âSheâs been asleep the majority of the afternoon, hardly any tossing and turning.â She sniffled. âI think sheâs okay, as okay as she can be after what happened to her.â
MatĂas put a hand on his sisterâs shoulder, gently squeezing. âWhy donât you get something to eat? Iâll stay with her for now.â
Visenya nodded her head, leaning down to kiss her mother on the forehead before getting up. She only took a few steps before she turned around to face him. âDid youâŚdid you come across father?â She asked nervously.
MatĂas took a deep breath, calming himself. âYes, I did.â
Visenya picked at her nails, similar to the way MatĂas would see his grandmother Alicent do. It was an awful habit that he hoped Visenya would stop doing. He didnât want his sister to have scars, even tiny ones, like his grandmother had.
âJust so you know, Iâm angry with him too. IâŚI hate that he keeps doing this to her.â Visenya looked back to where their mother laid. âShe deserves better.â
When she looked at him, MatĂas saw tears go down her face.
There was no doubt that Visenya was father's favorite. Her kind behavior toward him was the main reason why. His kindhearted sister who wanted to see the best in everyone.
As much as MatĂas wanted to shake some sense into her he knew she had to come to that conclusion on her own, just as Valaena and him had. It appeared she was already on her way, though.
Maybe sheâd feel entirely the same way they did about him once she was wed, and away from Kingâs Landing. However both Visenya and Valaena were already twenty and not betrothed.
Funny how his father wanted him married before his sisters. He was nineteen and his father was still searching for a suitable bride for him. Jaehaera wouldâve been a contender for MatĂas but she ended up betrothed to another lord, much to his luck. He loved his cousin but he wasnât eager to wed or bed her. She was a friend to him, nothing else.
While all this occurred his father hadnât even bothered searching for betrothals for either of his sisters
Rickon Stark, Cregan Starkâs the Lord of Winterfell, son had been suggested as a husband for one of his sisters. His father nearly sent the man who said that into an early grave. His father was not a fan of the North, complaining it was an icy wasteland.
His father once tried making a match between him and Visenya and MatĂas nearly threw up hearing the suggestion. Visenya kept quiet, but her wide watery eyes let him and everyone know she was not on board either.
It was only after his mother broke out of her shell of depression, and yelled at his father that the suggestion was forgotten about. His father didnât even try suggesting a match between MatĂas and Valaena. Marriage outside house Targaryen to another noble house would have to be done no matter how much it vexed Aemond. MatĂas was not okay with that either but for an entirely different reason.
Now MatĂas respected women but he had no desire to marry one. Women just didnât spark any interest in him, not in the way men did.
His mother knew how he felt about men, and she accepted him for who he was. She showed him love and support, as did his sisters after telling them. Only his father didnât know, but sooner or later he would find out.
And when that day came, MatĂas was prepared to laugh in his face if he chose to insult him. Heâd gladly shout that he was a proud pillow biter. His fatherâs support would not be needed, not when he already had his mother and sisters on his side.
MatĂas kissed Visenyaâs forehead in a gentle manner, whispering assuring words to her. Visenya left with tears still going down her face. Once alone he sat in the chair Visenya had been in. He looked at his mother, who appeared to be in a peaceful state. This was the most peaceful he'd seen her look in a long time.
Though there was nothing peaceful about what happened to her beforehand.
MatĂas pushed back a few strands of dark brown hair behind her ear.
The touch had been gentle but it was enough to wake his mother.
Adrian stared at him, eyes filled with so much emotion it made him want to cry.
MatĂas almost did exactly that when she opened her arms for him. He was about to decline but she called out his name so softly. He carefully crawled into his motherâs arms.
âMy dearest boy.â Adrian murmured, kissing his forehead. âI love you so much.â
MatĂas closed his eyes, snuggling his face in the crook of her neck. âI love you too, mother.â He whispered, basking in her warmth. He felt like he was a child again, comforting her in the only way he could.
Except he no longer was a child. He was a man, and he was now able to do things he wasnât able to do before.
Thereâd been many times in his life when MatĂas thought about it, but he made up his mind right then and there in his motherâs loving arms.
Come winter his father will be dead.













