Chapter Text
Several days passed.
All seemed quiet.
A raven eventually arrived from Dragonstone bearing a message with every line dripping venom, accusing Aemond of committing kinslaying and promising vengeance. An eye for an eye. Fire and blood.
Aegon had the message burned in the fire.
But no trace of Arrax or Lucerys was ever recovered, and no solid proof of their presumed deaths could be attributed to Aemond. For all intents and purposes, they had both vanished into thin air in the storm. Other than the letter from the Blacks, Otto assured the rest of the Green Council that, although there were some mutterings and gossip, the other Houses did not seem to seriously believe that Aemond had killed Lucerys despite the Blacks' accusations. The story that Lucerys had perished in the storm was plausible enough to be accepted by the masses.
"We must wait now," Otto advised. "Gather our banners and allies and strengthen our defences. More and more Houses have declared their commitment to our cause. The Faceless Man we engaged has informed us that he has infiltrated Dragonstone and is now moving into position. He will be ready to strike very soon, within the next few days."
It was like waiting for a thunderstorm to descend, when one could see the stormclouds gathering on the horizon but do nothing to spur it on, or to prevent it. The anticipation was driving Aemond crazy. The guilt of knowing that it was his rash actions at Storm's End which sparked this off weighed heavily on Aemond's heart. Three times, he privately attempted to apologise to Mother - on his last attempt, he'd even come prepared to get on his knees to beg her forgiveness - but no matter how delicately he brought up the subject, the mere mention of Storm's End would set off her tears. Eventually, Aemond gave up and did not discuss it further, not wanting to cause her further distress.
Instead, he threw himself wholeheartedly into his training, tearing apart wooden dummies in the practice yard and firing arrows into bullseyes until his arms and eye ached from the strain. Today, Aemond was sparring in the training yard with Criston as usual after dinner. Despite the strain in his muscles, the physical exertion helped to clear his mind, and stopped his thoughts from spiralling.
"One more round," Aemond said to Criston, as they both wiped sweat from their brows. Usually, they would have stopped once the sun set so that Aemond could spend time with his children Jaehaerys and Jaehaera before their bedtime, but even though the skies were already darkening, Aemond still picked up his practice sword again. He said, "We can spend more time training today. Helaena told me that she was going to read to the children after dinner. I'll go up to the nursery and see them later."
Like Mother, Helaena had not taken the news of Luke's death well, although to Aemond's great relief, she did not know that Aemond was the person responsible for it. After learning about their nephew's mysterious disappearance, his soft-hearted sister had shut herself up in her room, spending hours weeping and praying. The subsequent days, she retreated even more into her private little world of books and bugs. This was the first time in days that Helaena had voluntarily stepped outside of her room other than for mealtimes, and Aemond thought it might lift Helaena's spirits to spend time with her baby nephew and niece.
"As you wish, Your Grace," Criston said, following Aemond's lead.
Approximately an hour later, Aemond finally called the training session to an end. Together with Criston, they headed for the children's nursery, which was located in the Tower of the Hand.
It was a route which Aemond traversed every day, and he was familiar enough with the journey that it was ingrained into his unconscious memory. Which was why, when he reached the corridor leading up to the nursery, Aemond paused abruptly and frowned. His gaze darted from side to side, taking in his surroundings. Every one of his senses suddenly became acutely alert.
Something wasn’t right.
"The guards," Criston said, his voice growing sharp with alarm.
The nursery ought to have been guarded by at least four guards at all times, pursuant to Aegon's order to double the guard on the royal family following Aemond’s return from Storm’s End. But there wasn't a single guard standing outside the door to the nursery.
Adrenaline shot through every nerve in Aemond's body. Immediately, he sprinted down the lone stone corridor in the direction of the nursery, his hand going towards the hilt of his knife. Criston followed hot on his heels, slowed down slightly by the heavy Kingsguard armour which he was wearing.
Aemond threw his entire body weight against the door, but it did not budge - it must have been barred from the inside. The next moment, Criston reached Aemond's side. He put his shoulder to the door and charged forward. With Criston's added momentum and the weight of his Kingsguard armour, the nursery door splintered and broke apart under their combined impact.
Both Aemond and Criston charged into the room. They were met with a horrific scene.
Two strangers were in the nursery - a large, burly man with a beard, armed with a cruelly sharp butcher's knife which he was holding to Jaehaerys' throat, about to behead the child; and another man, short and skinny with a sly, untrustworthy face akin to a rat, who was also holding Jaehaera at knifepoint. Both babies were screaming in terror. In front of both of them, weeping and cowering on her knees on the floor, was Helaena. She had been stripped to her underclothes, and her own dress had been torn into shreds of fabric which had been used to tie her up. The bodies of the four dead guards were stacked in a bloody pile in the corner of the nursery, along with the corpses of the two young nursemaids on evening shift who usually tended to the baby Crown Prince and Princess.
Aemond reacted without a moment's hesitation. With a feral scream of rage, he flung his dagger right at the neck of the man standing further away from him, the one who was holding Jaehaerys. The next moment, he spun on his heel and lunged at the intruder closest to him, the one who had Jaehaera captive, knocking the knife out of his hands. The bigger man fell back, clutching his neck and gasping as arterial blood sprayed out of the gaping slash in his throat. The smaller man was knocked down to the floor, screaming and futilely attempting to shield his head as Aemond pounced on him and began to beat him to death with his bare hands.
Beside him, Criston rushed forward to scoop up Helaena and both children in his arms, taking them out of harm's way.
"Princess! Princess Helaena, are you all right?" Criston exclaimed. With a slash of his sword, he cut through the strips of cloth binding her hands together.
Helaena was sobbing too hard to answer. She reached out and hugged Jaehaerys and Jaehaera as tightly as she could, cowering behind Criston as she turned her face away from the carnage. Both babies wailed inconsolably in her arms.
Aemond barely even registered Criston's actions through the blood-red haze of fury that clouded his mind. He was pummelling the intruder's head and face with such force that the bones in his own knuckles were almost breaking. The next moment, a hand landed on Aemond's shoulder, pulling Aemond back from the man which he was beating to death.
"Your Grace, you must stop!" Criston said urgently, gripping tightly to Aemond's shoulder.
Wild-eyed, snarling with rage, all rationality having been wiped clean from his mind, Aemond almost turned on Criston as well. How dare Criston try to stop him? Could he be in league with them as well?
But Criston said, "We need to keep at least one of them alive. The torturers must question him to find out their plans. We must learn who sent them, how they got past our defences."
Criston was right. Even through the haze of bloodlust which had settled over Aemond's mind, he recognised the logic of it. Abruptly, Aemond turned around. He stalked over to the first intruder and bent over his corpse, wrenching his blade free from where it was buried in the dead man's neck. More blood sprayed onto Aemond's training leathers, a red splash of it cutting across his face, high on his cheekbones. His lone eye glinted with savage, unholy madness.
Aemond snarled, "There's no need for the torturers. I'll do it myself. I'll carve out his eyes, burn off his skin, rip off his cock -"
Helaena, cowering in the corner with the twins in her arms, let out a sobbing scream of horror and clutched the babies to her breast.
The sound of Helaena's scream shook Aemond out of his berserker rage. What was he thinking? His sister, his babies, were still here in this room, soaked in blood, surrounded by carnage. The wails of baby Jaehaerys and Jaehaera joined Helaena next, ear-splitting cries which tore at Aemond's heart. But at least they were both well enough to cry. If Criston and Aemond had arrived even one second too late, his children would have had their throats cut.
His hands shaking, Aemond slowly lowered his dagger. A wave of ice-cold horror swept over him, and he swayed, the ground seeming to shift under his feet. The second intruder, the skinny rat-faced man, now with his face bashed in to the point of unrecognisability, let out a low, wet groan. Blood bubbled up from his lips. He was still alive, but barely.
Criston was by Aemond's side at once, supporting him upright. Leaning against Criston, Aemond rushed over to Helaena and his twins. He fell to his knees and gathered both of his babies into his arms, pressing their tearful faces against his chest. Both babies clung tightly onto Aemond. Crying too hard to speak, Helaena reached out to Aemond as well, clutching tightly, almost violently, to his forearm.
"Get Aegon," Aemond choked out.
Approximately an hour later, everyone except Alicent, who had gone to console Helaena, was gathered in the small council room for an emergency meeting.
To Aegon and Aemond's relief, Grand Maester Orwyle assured them that both twins were unhurt, only startled. It was the same with Helaena - the Princess was not injured either. The main target of the intruders had not been the Princess Helaena, but the little Crown Prince and Princess, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.
The surviving intruder, a man called Cheese, gave up everything he knew within one hour of torture by Larys. As Larys reported to the Green Council, both intruders were known as Blood and Cheese. Blood was a butcher. He had previously been a serjeant in the City Watch of King's Landing, reporting under Daemon, but had been stripped of his gold cloak after beating a whore to death in a drunken rage. The second intruder, Cheese, was a ratcatcher who was familiar with the hidden tunnels of the Red Keep. That was how Blood and Cheese had managed to gain entrance to the children's nursery.
Both assassins had been sent by a woman called Mysaria, who was an information dealer and brothel operator from the Street of Silk. On Mysaria's instructions, they were supposed to break into the nursery, subdue Aemond, whom they had been expecting to find, and force Aemond to choose which one of his children to be killed: Jaehaerys or Jaehaera. An eye for an eye; a child for a child.
However, instead of Aemond, it had been Helaena whom Blood and Cheese had found after breaking in to the nursery. Blood and Cheese had slaughtered the guards, stripped Helaena and tied her up, and then forced her to choose whether her nephew or niece should die. When Helaena, weeping, offered herself in their place instead, Blood and Cheese threatened to rape both Helaena and Jaehaera if she continued to delay further in making her choice. Before she was forced to answer, Aemond and Criston reached the nursery just in the nick of time, saving Helaena and the children.
"I know of Mysaria," Otto said grimly. "I have had dealings with her in the past. She was Daemon's mistress while he was still married to Lady Rhea Royce. Years ago, when Mysaria was pregnant with Daemon's child out of wedlock, Daemon stole a dragon's egg on behalf of their bastard and took her to Dragonstone to await their child's birth, although he was eventually forced off the island on Viserys' orders. Daemon and Mysaria were very close. There can be no doubt that Mysaria organised this atrocity on Daemon's instructions, as revenge for the disappearance of Lucerys. Ser Criston is now leading a force of Goldcloaks and Whitecloaks to search King's Landing for her."
"I'll kill him," Aemond vowed, pacing up and down the length of the council chamber, his long silver hair whipping about in his agitation. He clenched his bruised fist tightly around the hilt of his knife. "Daemon will die screaming in flames. And Rhaenyra as well, that black-hearted, evil whore. I'll burn them all. I'll take Vhagar to Dragonstone and raze the entire island to the ground!"
“You must not go,” Otto warned him. “They will be anticipating your arrival. You'll be outnumbered. It’s a trap.”
Aemond bared his teeth in a savage snarl. “I don't care. I’ll kill anyone who dares to stand in my way. Vhagar and I will burn them all!"
Aegon stood up abruptly. He said, "No. Stand down, Aemond. You are not going."
Aemond froze. He spun around to face Aegon, his eye going wide with disbelief and outrage.
"You, Aegon?! You would try to stop me as well? They tried to rape and murder our children! Our sister! Vhagar! Māzigon!” Come!
Vhagar’s answering bellow echoed in the distance, a low roar of fury which shook the castle walls.
Aegon lunged forward and grabbed Aemond by the forearm. Enraged, Aemond tried to shake Aegon's hand off, but Aegon did not let go.
"I said no!" Aegon roared. "You will remain in King's Landing. You will not leave with Vhagar, and you will not attack without my permission."
Aemond grabbed Aegon by the lapels of his collar, closing the distance between them. He glared at Aegon, dragonfire flashing in his single violet eye. Aegon was immediately assaulted by the thick, fiery scent of Aemond’s outrage, smoky and acidic. The whole room smelled like dragon, but the omega's scent was unknown to all except Aegon, the only alpha present.
“I am a warrior,” Aemond growled, fisting his hands in Aegon's robe and pulling him close. “You would order me to hide behind the castle walls with the women and children? When our innocent babies were almost murdered?! Let me go! I'll kill them all!”
In response, Aegon met his brother’s glare with his own, resolute and unyielding. He flared his alpha scent as hard as he could.
"No. I am your King, Aemond! You will do as I command. You will not seek Daemon out. You will remain in the Red Keep unless I decide otherwise. Give me your oath. Swear to me, Aemond. Swear it!"
Aegon had never forced Aemond to bend to his will before, never pressed his authority over Aemond as his king and alpha. In the distance, Vhagar let out another long, bellowing roar, echoing Aemond’s pain and fury, so loud that the tapestries hanging on the walls trembled.
“Swear it,” Aegon repeated, unwavering.
Breathing hard, trembling with rage and injustice, Aemond finally released his grip on Aegon’s collar and bowed his head. Tears of bitter fury shone in his eye.
“I swear it, Your Grace,” Aemond said, his voice low.
Aegon exhaled sharply in relief. He reached out to cup Aemond’s face in both his hands. Aemond remained stiff as a board, refusing to meet Aegon’s eyes, his scent sharp with acidic notes of hurt and betrayal.
Aegon said, his voice intense, “Grandfather is right. It’s a trap, don’t you see? They’re trying to bait you out. You’re their real target. Not just the babies, but you, Aemond - you and Vhagar. That’s what Rhaenyra and Daemon wanted: to provoke you badly enough that you would be drawn out to Dragonstone alone to be slaughtered. Even Vhagar cannot prevail against their six dragons. With this scheme, they wanted to break your heart, drive us apart and take out our biggest asset in this war: our strongest warrior and largest dragon. You must not go to Dragonstone. You must not seek Daemon out. You’ll be going to your death. I cannot win without you, Brother. Nyke daor glaesagon mijegon ao." I cannot live without you.
"Let the Faceless Man deal with Daemon. He will get a swifter, cleaner death than he deserves. But it will be Rhaenyra who will pay the price for this plot twice over, in fire and blood, on behalf of herself and her husband. We will have our vengeance, Brother. I swear it to you."
Aegon caressed Aemond's cheek with his thumb. From Aemond's single violet eye, a small tear slid down his face. Aegon swiftly wiped it away before anyone else could see.
“... I understand. I will not go. You have my oath,” Aemond said quietly.
Aegon put his hand around the back of Aemond's neck, then pulled him close to press their foreheads together. “Nyke jāhor dīnagon zȳhon bartos isse aōha ondos se zȳhon pāletilla va aōha bartos, issa jorrāelagon,” he whispered, loud enough only for Aemond to hear. I will place her head in your hands and her crown on your brow, my love.
Aemond nodded shakily. More tears welled up in his eye, but he did not cry again.
Aegon guided Aemond to take a seat beside him. Under the table, out of sight from everyone else, Aegon reached out to take hold of Aemond's hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Aemond's hand and then gave it a comforting squeeze.
There was a brief silence.
At last, Otto said grimly, "Your Grace, we will not let this stand. I will spread the news of this horrific atrocity far and wide through the realm. Rape, kinslaying and the murder of children… this will destroy the Blacks’ reputation and sow discord within their ranks. Their allies will desert them in droves. Perhaps I can even persuade House Velaryon to defect from the Blacks, if we phrase our approach to them the right way. Even if Corlys and Rhaenys refuse to see reason, Ser Vaemond’s branch of House Velaryon will surely leap at the opportunity to ally with us and avenge his murder. Leave this to me. I will think of a plan before the sun is up. Fear not. We will prevail, all of us together.”
Aegon nodded. He had faith that Otto would be able to come up with something. His grandfather was a shrewd and cunning strategist, and although they had not always seen eye to eye, he knew that Grandfather, unlike Father, had always acted to further the interests of the Green family. Although Otto did not rage outwardly in the same manner as Aemond, it was clear that this attempt on the lives of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren had him furious. Otto had always been the most fond of Helaena, and after Aegon and Aemond's twins were born, he doted on the babies almost as much as Aemond did.
With that, Aegon got up from his seat, dismissing the small council. He had to speak to Aemond.