#enchainedqueen

Is   this   what   mother   feels   like?   Pride   swells   deep   within   my   chest   and   I   could   literally   burst.   Their   laughter   overwhelms   the   room   in   bright   greens   and   makes   the   darkest   black   glitter.   Even   their   imaginations   boggles   me   with   wonder   and   true   intrigue   to   want   to   know   more.

My   smile   beams   with   light   when   Jaehaera   picks   up   a   small   carved   horse   and   flies   it   around   the   room.   I   swear   my   eyes   twinkle   and   force   myself   to   look   away.   Such   great   emotion   will   cause   me   strife   one   day,   I   know   it.   I   feel   it.

But,   that   day   will   not   be   today.   I   bask   in   their   youthfulness   a   little   longer.   They   are   only   children   once.   So,   let   them.

After performing a security sweep inside his mother's chambers, he approaches her. Poets write countless literature pieces about a queen's beauty and grace for all the realm to see, but do they ever speak of her sadness? Do they ever speak of her wrath? When Mother speaks truth to power, she does so without hesitation, but now, she confides in him. Queen Alicent must've felt as isolated as if she were at the top of the Hightower of her motherland. Aemond, ever the soldier, takes her arms in his hands, strokes them with calloused fingertips in the hopes of comforting her, physical touch a feat he never does with anyone outside of his immediate family (save for Vaenna). Aemond towers over her just as he does with every other member of this family, both Hightower and Targaryen, when he was once the smallest of her brood save Daeron.

Alicent was the only one who raised her voice in his defense at Driftmark that night. The only one who still saw goodness in him, enough to speak to the King in defiance. And now they have come for his family, just like Mother had always warned them. Only... no one could imagine it would come at the cost of this sheer brutality. Children, little babies, who had done nothing to harm Rhaenyra and her brood. Judgement was to be handed out, both to his own flesh and their family's enemies. Gods be damned, it should have been me, not Jaehaerys.

The two brutes who violated his mother and sister and traumatized his niece and nephew were now under the custody of the crown with the assistance of Lord Larys and the kingsguard and soon he and Aegon will go down to pay them... a special visit. ❝𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝.❞ Aemond vows icily, gloved hand placing itself on her shoulder, his one amethyst eye observing her.

Alicent more likely than not had barely gotten any sleep at all since the last few hours. ❝𝐌𝐦. 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭.❞

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON STARTERS | Now Accepting!

THE TONE OF HER QUESTION RATTLES HIM TO HIS CORE , a voice in which his mother has never turned on him . Oh , he has witnessed the sheer devastation & disappointment that saw her pretty features fall , but almost always in defense of herself & accompanying worldview so often trampled by his eldest sister the whore queen’s frivolity , or the willful neglect of the king . He cannot decide which is worse , though hearing the grief in her voice strikes something purely painful in his core . It hurts even worse than the phantom pain of an eye that was lost stolen . He is torn open — flayed underneath the scrutiny of the dowager queen to be judged .

He has pushed them off the precipice of caution & into tragedy .

He has made a name for himself & will hereon be remembered .

He has doomed them all .

Whether it was by his hand , someone else’s , or even by will of a dragon: Lucerys Strong Velaryon was always going to die . Ever more startling is the reality which sees him unbothered by the act itself , but by the impending fallout . The pitiful whelp never meant much to him & it is doubtful he ever would to a realm that cast only skepticism upon his shoulders . How odd it was then that the sudden absence of his life would be enough to warrant bloodshed . One less bastard in the world .

Something underneath his skin tingles . Aemond cannot be certain whether it is fear or excitement . Perhaps it is both , for there is a roiling of danger which has been brought to the surface after so many years of obscuring . His gaze flickers over to his grandsire , a weathered face bearing a mix of contempt & disgust , as if he could scarcely believe the outcome of the seeds he planted long before Aemond and his siblings were born . Then he glances in the opposite direction at Ser Cole , ever his mother’s white-cloaked shadow , who looks wary between him & the woman who grips at his surcoat .

The solar is quiet & soon he realizes its due to his own error . He hasn’t said a thing after a minute or so between reprimand & the mild ringing in his ears from a palm to the cheek of his good side .

He blinks .

Even in the face of his mother’s pain , Aemond can only utter the truth — his truth .

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON STARTERS | Now Accepting!

LONE  GAZE  PULLS  AWAY  FROM  THE  FLAME  ,  LEAN  FORM  SOONAFTER  .  Silver  tresses  fall forward  as  crown  dips  in  compliance  .  Strange  that  she  should  need  to  ask  him  ,  for  she  is  both  queen  &  mother  .  Perhaps  it  is  a  testament  to  who  she  is  at  her  core  :  a  woman  crafted  under  the  tutelage  of  polite  society  .

…  or  perhaps  it  is  rhetorical  &  he  is  overthinking  . 

Whatever  the  case  may  be  ,  he  gives  her  his  undivided  attention  . 

A  single  lavender  hue  finds  its  way  to  her  face  &  Aemond  must  ignore  the  impulse  to  dissect  her  reaction  .  The  striking  wide  eye  most  of  the  courtiers  find  unnerving  ,  alluded  to  in  the  way  they  try  in  vain  to  avoid  staring  at  either  but  constrained  by  propriety  that  demands  they  look  .  For  her  ,  he  traces  other  features  within  his  overcompensated  sight  ,  the  arch  of  her  brows  ,  the  firm  purse  of  her  lips  ,  the  style  of  her  hair  —  even  the  state  of  her  nails  .  It  will  tell  him  all  he  needs  to  know  without  speech  . 

Still  ,  he  is  good  &  he  listens  . 

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON STARTERS | Now Accepting!

HE  KNOWS  HIS  MOTHER  HAS  NO  TASTE  FOR  VIOLENCE  …  &  yet she  sees  it  every  day  marring  his  once  whole  face .  Her  inquiry  gives  him  pause  to  observe  the  small  marks  on  the  back  of  his  hand — already  rough  since  he  was  able  to  wield  a  training  sword  .  He’ll  carefully  omit  the  details  of  his  insistence  to  wield  live  steel  against  Cole  in  the  training  yard  .  Even  so  ,  the  splintering  of  several  shields  was  bound  to  leave  evidence  ,  be  it  the  frayed  edges  of  his  doublet   or  the  angry  pink  scratches  &  welts  found  on  his  otherwise  pale  skin  .

Perhaps  he  should  take  to  wearing  gloves  .

❝ It’s  only  a  scratch  .  It’ll  heal  . ❞

As  tall  as  he  stands  now  in  the  years  post  baptism  by  fire  ,  Aemond  cannot  help  but  wilt  underneath  his  mother’s  concern  .  While  grateful  for  the  open  display  of  care  ,  an  acknowledgement  that  acts  as  both  balm  &  blight  ,  he  thought  himself  the  image  of  strength  in  the  face  of  any  adversity  .  At  least  …  enough  that  his  mother  needn’t  worry  as  much  .  How  frustrating  that  even  now  he  falls  short  of  being  an  assurance  rather  than  a  pillar  security  &  solidarity  .  

        the way her hands nervously clasp over her navel   gives her away, although helaena doubts her mother didn’t already know.  that was likely the purpose of her visit, undoubtedly after multiple inquiries to her chambermaids if they’d noticed a change in her in the weeks since her wedding.  it’s not as if helaena would be able to hide it if she wanted to do so, anyway.  at least not for long.  “i have not bled this month,”  she says quietly, looking up at her mother for a moment before looking away.  “i don’t feel any different, but i’ve heard the maids whisper.”