Of Crowns and Chains
AEMOND TARGARYEN X MALE SERVANT OC!
Masterlist
Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen struggles to find solace in the night. His blank eyesocket sears his soul with something more than just pain–vengeance.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Desc. of wounds & effects
Date: The Night Before the Morning of S1E8 “The Lord of the Tides” HOTD — 130 AC
Author Notes: :p
Chapter 0-1. The One Eyed Noble
There are days in which Aemond Targaryen’s skull pounds like the beat of a drum, a sort of tribute to the lost eye, a celebration to the opulent sapphire in its place and rhythm of remembrance for the scar such a vicious dagger left behind.
Aemond, in all his years with a measly placeholder inside his socket, cannot see it like this.
The underside of his skin chars true, unadulterated black on those nights, the nights his blood runs hot because he cannot find sleep when the edges of his cracked skin nip at him, flared and biting, relentless in the ice cold shiver it leaves along his spine.
10 years. He’ll curse the world until it explodes with his vengeance. 10 years and he cannot find solace even in his own bed.
His stomach will churn with nausea as pins stick to his brain and he is branded, again and again. For hours. Turning. Spinning. Twisting. Gripping the sheets with sweaty hands. All in the name of Lucerys Velaryon.
Like many nights prior, Aemond does not ever find sleep.
He always knows when it will happen. When his body will wither with agony and splinter in dread. Where his snow white hair will splay across the dark crimson of bedding as his skin melts onto his own bones and his fingertips surge with electricity until they grow numb. How his heart seeks to purge itself, ached with evanescent collections of his polluted childhood. Who is he? And why he feels such grievances, he does not know; but oh, how he will seek to kill it until his lungs take their last breath.
Tonight, however, he soaks and drips.
Lying in nothing.
Amounting to nothing.
