𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧.

𝐱𝐱𝐢. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦

A/N: As I promised, Aemond's pov! A-and in this chapter: Aemond is focused on Aelina solemnly, ignoring everyone else (nothing new), Jacaerys getting in his feral arc (he will be worse when Aelina wakes up), Lucerys is a little bitch (nothing new), Aelina in Spain without letter S (nothing new). Have fun, ig. 

×

'... How did this ridiculous thought even come to your mind?! Do you understand what could've happened? Who allowed both of you to be this reckless?!'

Aemond gulped, sharp breath leaving his lips, hands locked on his knees.

He was used to being scolded, even though his mother was less harsh with him than with others. Yet, she scolded him for mistakes and impulsiveness from time to time, but hearing uncle Daemon doing exactly the same seemed too strange. Scarier, somehow? He wondered if it was because he tried to be liked by this man with the diligence of a dog or because he was used to being scolded for his mistakes and not because someone was scared for his life.

He knew this conversation would be completely different if Aelina was by his side.

But she wasn't, and even the smallest thought about her caught him with a light panic instantly. If he looked down, there were still dry drops of some of her blood on his hands. He scratched it roughly, skin itching.

'Do you listen to me, boy?' It made him raise his head, nodding quickly, being not ready to make eye contact.

'Hey, maybe we shouldn't...' Lucerys started awkwardly from his father's behind, eyes a little bit apologetic.

'No,' Aemond answered more harshly than he intended to sound - why was he always like that? Too mean without wishing to be so? - pursing his lips.

'You both need to learn that when you are here, you can't work alone, do you understand?'

He knew that man in front of him was right; he was older, more experienced, survived wars and commanded armies. Yet, some bitter part of Aemond wanted to scowl at him, remembering what exactly happened when they went to the capital all together. He didn't blame it on Daemon, he really didn't - it was their fault, not his - yet, the image of Caraxes being the one to make the tower collapse fresh in his mind.

...Why Aemond always was mad with people that did nothing to him?

'That's enough,' Rhaenyra's voice rang out behind his back, making him tense up.

'Your sister must be, indeed, happy for being unconscious. Either way I would admonish her even more.'

Rhaenyra put her hand on Aemond's shoulder, he hardly abstained from flinching.

'Don't act like you were better in their years, Daemon. You talk just like father used to talk with you,' she commented, voice sounding so strict, that it scared somehow more than uncle's screams. 'Just say that you were worried like a normal person and close the conversation.'

Daemon flinched - or so, Aemond thought he did - and his eyes widened.

'I...'

His elder sister leaned closer to Aemond, hand cupping his cheek, deliberately making him face her.

For some reasons there are wasn't any signs of anger on her face when she spoke:

'Daemon is right. We are family and family works together. Discussing everything is important, more important than you think. Such risks, especially if you are taking them all alone, are prohibited. If you don't want to listen to me as your Queen, then consider it a request from your sister.'