KING'S LANDING

When she woke, Helaena was already gone from the bed and the sun was high up in the sky, confirming it was afternoon and Hira had slept most of the day away.

Exhaustion made her bones heavy and eyes blurry.

Once she rubbed the sleep off her eyes, she dressed in the clothes Helaena left her. A white tunic, far too large to be her cousin's and black trousers, paired with boots. The tunic most likely Aemond's, as was the dark green cloak.

Hira fashioned her hair into a single braid and slipped on her rings, finding comfort in the obsidian dragon and sapphire jewel on a golden band.

Her eyes were botched, rimmed red and eyelids swollen, omitting the tears of last night. She washed her face in the basin.

Reading the note Helaena left, Hira made her way to the nursery. The guards she passed eyed her with caution, no doubt the Hand sent warnings to keep a vigilant eye on their newest hostage. She was surprised they allowed her to roam so freely.

In the nursery, the children's nanny gave her a mistrustful glance, sitting herself in the corner in case Hira should run off with Aegon's heirs.

Honestly, what kind of person would harm an innocent child? She rolled her eyes, sitting down on the cushions and ignored the nanny, focusing on the children instead.

"Hello little ones." Hira murmured, cradling Maelor in her lap as the twins flocked to her. "Aunt Hira is here."

The morning consisted of telling tales to the children, using different tones and expressions to symbolise characters and exaggerate the story. Laughter flooded the room and Hira was reminded of Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys, who used to eagerly await her bedtime stories. She missed the boys, all of them.

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was at Dragonstone. Rhaena combing her hair, Baela tickling Aegon. Joffrey nestled beside her, with Viserys waddling between the legs of his elder brothers, as Jace and Luke played with wooden swords.

When they were like that, consumed by childish tendencies, Rhaenyra would enter the room and watch her children fondly, all the decisions she made in the past led her to this family. Daemon would loom over her, not a smirk, but a real smile on his face.

At least in her dreams, that's what Hira imagined. 

She wondered what storm weathered in Dragonstone now.

The sound of the door caused her eyes to flutter open. She frowned when Aemond walked into the room. He was just as unsure as she was with his arrival.

"Helaena said to meet her here." He answered her silent question. "I see my sister has fooled me once again."

"Your mother needs a telling off." Hira murmured to Maelor, ignoring the child's uncle who peered down at her. "Best to keep her nose out of other people's business."

Maelor rambled nonsense. Hira hummed in agreement.

"Might we speak?"

Aemond's eye was hooded and laced with tiredness. His usual half updo style was nonexistent today, instead his silvery hair was tied at the base of his neck with a ribbon, short strands framing his face. It was messy and unkempt. It was striking, he was striking. Pristine or disordered, Aemond was a marvel to stare at, sculpted by the gods so perfectly.

Damn him.

A new guilty pleasure of hers had emerged. That and the abundance of leathers.

"I'm looking after the children." She responded, pretending she wasn't gawking at her betrothed. The nanny certainly was, stealing glances at Aemond under her knitting tools. Even with the scar and eyepatch, Aemond attracted attention from noble and lowborn ladies alike.

He barely spared any attention before ordering her away. Slight satisfaction filled Hira, which she pushed away, unwilling to admit any form of jealousy.

Jaehaera slotted into his arms, favouring Aemond above everyone else. The smile for his niece was charming, bringing butterflies to her stomach because it showed that Aemond wasn't all rampant fury. There were still hints of something light and tenderness to the man she fell for. Jaehaerys' twin copied his sister, tugging his uncle's leg for attention, to which he obliged.

Maelor stuck by her, burrowed in her arms as she sought comfort from the boy. It would be a sweet moment, if the youngest little gremlin wasn't trying to eat her hair.

Aemond caught her attention, nodding to the cloth he had deposited on the table. She raised a brow.

"Your blades."

It was unsaid, but they both knew it.

He doesn't trust a single soul here. Hira shared his vigilance.

"Thank you for returning them." She responded, grateful, even if they were on rocky ground.

The maester removed the daggers from her possession when he treated her injuries. Even if she felt a thousand times safer having her weapons close, it was no more than a false sense of safety. It was never secure here, in the nest of vultures and traitors. At the very least she could defend herself against attacks.

"I've made a mess of things. Of us." Aemond said, his dark solemn eye locked on hers, "I owe you an apology."

"More than an apology. I want you to grovel."

Aemond bit his lip, contemplating, before falling to his knees and laying his forehead on the floor.

Hira was taken back by the action. Then she sighed, demanding he stop. It was ridiculous anyway, holding both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys in his arms, ready to tip over and onto the floor had his hold not been firm.

His arms flexed under his shirt, which was more than pleasing to the eye. She tucked that memory away for later, when she wasn't mad at him.

"How do you even know about that custom?" She asked ruefully.

He offered a tilted smile. "My betrothed hails from a land I'm not accustomed to. If I'm to marry you, I must know how to behave, in the case that I offend someone of importance."

"You can start by ridding yourself of revenge."

Pretty grins were for silly girls who were easily led by an equally pretty face. She's no fool and Aemond will not take her for one.

Her nightmares of Luke were ever present. Behind closed lids, she dreamt him crying for help, his body torn in half the same as Arrax, his body washed ashore. Other times there were no sounds, simply a glance between the two, before Vhagar's jaw closed in and took his life.

Hira awaited the news of his swift recovery, confident in Dragonstone's maester to nurse the boy back to good health.

The prince's face fell.

"Things were much easier before you were banished."

She hummed.

"I should've asked for your hand at Dragonstone." He admitted, eye glazing as he lost himself in memories, "I almost did, but I wanted to do it right, you deserved that much."

After a moment of hesitation, she said, "I think I would've said yes. Or at least I would've liked to."

What was it like to grieve someone still living but far to touch? Was the feeling akin to the pounding in her chest or the lump in her throat? How her fingertips trembled to hold Aemond who was across the room but still felt miles beyond her grasp?

Hira wished he hadn't dismissed the nanny, unsure if they should be having this type of conversation in front of the children. Not as if they could talk back to the adults.

A small humourless chuckle escaped her. "No amount of what ifs will fix us, Aemond."

"We're not damaged. We don't need fixing." He insisted.

"Opposing sides of war, that's what we are. I have already declared for Rhaenyra and you, Aegon. You do his bidding, as I did for Rhaenyra at Storm's End. It was only cruel luck that we chanced upon each other. It was you who chased Luke and it was I, with a bleeding heart, who sought to save you from your own stupidity."

His voice raised. "I never asked for your help."

"You didn't need to! I will always run to help you, to save you, because I love you!"

Maelor cried out in her arms. Hira gasped, realising she squeezed him to the point of pain. She smoothed his worries, pressing kisses on his head. She apologised profusely. He soon calmed and ventured back to biting her braid.

Seeing the destruction they caused, Hira ordered Aemond to retrieve the nanny, face cast down.

"I see the look in your eye, as if I'm a stranger."

Hira shook her head. "I am not having this discussion."

"Then when else? Are we to ignore each other now? As if my heart isn't calling out to yours?" 

"I don't know the matters of your heart anymore. And in truth I care little for it."

"Stop lying." Aemond demanded through gritted teeth. "You have just told me that you love me."

"Slip of the tongue." She hissed, like a liar.

Maelor fussed, stumbling out of her grasp. Hira placed him on the ground and strode to the door, ordering the knight to return with the nanny.

She gawked at the two when she arrived, quickly picking up the children and leaving the fuming noblebloods to their arguments.

"Why do we need fixing?"

Aemond was unsettled by that, she could tell. The curve of his mouth, his eye focusing and unfocusing. The slight tremor.

She licked her lips, fighting the urge to scratch at her neck, the ugly habit rearing its head.

"I pledged myself to your sister. Here I am praying to my gods for you to see reason, searching for ways to save you, despite your aggressions against Luke."

"I don't understand."

"My morals keep me loyal to Rhaenyra. It is all I have of myself. Everything else belongs to you."

Aemond stepped forward.

Hira inched backwards until her body collided with the wall. He trapped her in, closing her between himself and the wall. His eye fixated on hers, now clear, with pinpoint focus.

She whispered, the space between their faces tight, her breath passing over his face. "Can't you see it, Aemond? If all you have is your rage, then all I am are the promises I've made. That is what makes me, me, and if I break them, I don't know if I can make myself whole again."

Tenderly, Aemond stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear that strayed.

"Years of resentment has led me to be this man seeking vengeance and playing it off as justice." He spoke deeply, grimly.

She laid her hand on top of his. "Let me help you rid yourself of this horrid vengeance, Aemond. It's no easy task but there is life outside of your rage. I want to help you, if only you'll let me."

Hira intertwined their hands.

"Please, mahal ko." She was not above begging, if it meant she could save him. The Lengii term of endearment fell from her lips.

"I don't know how." His voice broke.

And with it Hira's heart.

"Together." Soft caresses of her lips danced along his hand. "We'll do it together."

Step by step, brick by brick, Hira will tear down the walls of Aemond's loyalty to his mother, to Otto, to the Greens.

She tamed one dragon, what is one more?

[ x ]

Aemond

Pleading was a foreign look on Hira. Of all the years he's known her, she's never once begged. With their status and royal blood, everything was handed to them on a silver platter. Anything fought for or earned was due to their second child syndrome. Besides that, life was privileged.

Aemond despised himself for forcing her to that level, knowing she was above that.

Together.

Isn't that a simple notion, as if it could solve every problem under the sun? Hopeful, his Hira was. A smoothing balm to his pessimism.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I am sorry." He laid his forehead against hers, his nose nudging hers. "I broke my vow and endangered our future. No more mistakes will be made on my part."

That, he can admit freely.

Aemond wasn't ready to let go of his vendetta yet, but he will do his part to protect their future.

Chasing Luke was intentional, but killing Arrax wasn't. Losing control of Vhagar was a testament to how thin their bond was. He only wanted to scare his nephew, yet when Arrax shot flames, Vhagar became unstoppable, uncontrollable. Deadly. The rage shifted from Aemond to the she-dragon.

Aemond knew that young dragons, especially one bonded to their first rider, was vastly in tune to their emotions. Luke's fear mirrored Arrax, and so the dragon defended what was his, and left shredded to death.

It was never supposed to go that far.

If he told a soul this, he would be mocked for it. The largest and oldest dragon in his possession and Aemond Targaryen couldn't even control her.

The prince was suddenly envious of Hira and Zhurong's bond, so perfectly matched, like a well placed sunflower on a patch of soil, perfectly positioned to face and bloom below the sun.

It took minutes for Vhagar to calm under his hold, yet it was simple for Zhurong to leave behind his rider, simply because she told him so.

Inadequate. Second son. Failure.

He lied when he told Hira his only regret was not finishing what he started. In truth, he regretted letting it go so far.

He only prays Luke recovers, lest he be the reason why war broke.

A voice muffled by the door spoke through. "My children have been returned to me. Does that mean you've made up?"

Hira sighed at Helaena's teasing. "Gods, send me patience. Targaryens are the bane of my existence."

"I speak for Helaena and I, when I say you are the centre of our affections." Aemond murmured.

"Charming. Thank you, Aemond." She replied dryly, but hints of pink flooded her cheek.

It was hot and cold with her, wasn't it?

"Mother requests your presence."

Hira nudged Aemond away. He instantly missed her warmth. She opened the door, Helaena's pleasant smile greeting them.

"Well? Have you kissed and made up?"

"Shouldn't you know, dreamer?"

"I won't fall for your tricks a third time, sister." Aemond remarked. Helaena shrugged, unbothered. He turned to Hira. "I shall find you later?"

"Hire will join us." Helaena decided.

"I doubt that would please your mother."

"But it would please me."

And how could Hira say no, especially when Helaena smiled so sweetly. Sometimes, he wondered about those two and might have been if the world was kinder. It was no lie that Helaena deserved more than their drunk brother, more than the life she was condemned to. The blessing of Hira's protection honoured his sister, though he prayed there wouldn't come a time for such need.

Helaena never once fancied anyone, nor glanced in a man's direction, even as a young adolescent. Most of her time was occupied with creatures of long legs and antennas. That, and Hira. It came as a surprise to everyone, most of all their mother, when she latched onto the princess when she first arrived in King's Landing.

If Aemond and Hira were twin flames, then Helaena and Hira were soulmates, forged from the same heartbeat and intertwined like strings tethered together. Unbreakable.

Helaena looked at her children with unconditional love. She stared at Hira with the same look in her eye.

Perhaps he should listen to Hira and not sentence himself to such punishments of what ifs.

Accepting both ladies' arms in his, Aemond led them to the Tower of the Hand, where his mother's new chambers were located.

They found her pacing the room, wearing the floor to ruin. She picked at her skin, aggravating the already damaged skin. Instantly, the second son tugged her hand from her teeth, ceasing the self inflicted abuse on her fingers.

When he glanced at Hira, he saw a look he couldn't decipher as she stared at mother and son.

"Why is she here?" Alicent questioned, temper sparking at the sight of Hira.

Aemond ignored the hostility. "What news?"

It couldn't be anything else, a plethora of ravens were seen flying in and out of the Keep's rookery. Seals of Houses and allies, or enemies confirming their position under the new era of Aegon Targaryen.

It must be alarming news if their mother was fretting herself to an early grave.

Alicent grew hesitant. "This is a family matter, mayhaps it's best that the princess takes her leave."

"Hira stays." Helaena tugged Hira close, daring their mother to say no.

Unwilling to argue, his mother delivered the message.

Around him the room muffled into static, a ringing sound appeared in his ears, like a fly that crossed one ear to the other, buzzing incessantly despite swatting it away,

Aemond's breath grew sharp and rapid, short spurts escaping his mouth. He could feet his heart thrashing against his chest, like drums, or a Dothraki horde against grass.

Someone grabbed his arm, though he barely felt it.

Why was he struggling to breathe? Why was the room spinning? Why can't he see? How was he blind in both eyes now? What did he do? What did he do!

Rain fell from the clouds above, the storm rough against his skin, the rope rigid in his hand, pulling Vhagar, chasing the Strong bastard.

You owe me a debt, boy.

Sweltering flames shot against his dragon, heating the air and blurring his perception.

Laughing.

Ringing in his ears.

Vhagar's maw latching shut.

"... Aemond! Aemond!"

I didn't mean to.

I didn't mean to.

I didn't mean to?

...

Warm hands brushed his hair, massaging the scalp. A gentle, comforting voice broke through the turmoil. It felt like the sun's beam bursting forth a thunderstorm.

"Focus on my heartbeat."

Something soft laid against his ear, the buzzing dimming into nothing, replaced by a heartbeat made of a peaceful song, mimicking the hum of something tranquil. Something Aemond had no privilege to until now.

"Listen to my voice."

Hints of jasmine and honey surrounded him. Aemond clenched his eyes shut, breathing in the scent.

"Focus on that and nothing else, mahal."

Sweet, sweet Hira held him in her arms, stroking his hair until he grounded himself. Distantly, he could hear Helaena humming a tune, her hand in his.

In the year 129 AC, Lucerys Velaryon succumbed to his wounds dealt by Aemond and his mount Vhagar.

Aemond Targaryen declared a kinslayer.

The time for ravens and words concluded.

The Dance of the Dragons began.