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H A R R E N H A L

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H A R R E N H A L


𝕿𝖍𝖊y w𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 w𝖆𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 A𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉 k𝖓𝖊w 𝖎𝖙

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𝕿𝖍𝖊y w𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 w𝖆𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 A𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉 k𝖓𝖊w 𝖎𝖙.


He watched as the lords who had made it out of King's Landing in time, gathered in the great hall of Harrenhal. None of them had been man enough to take their king and family with them, when Rhaenyra had taken control of the capital and Aemond had trouble hiding his disgust for them.

They talked about plans and strategies and one idea after another was worse than the one before it.

Aemond looked into the fire, but he didn't need to see Ser Criston to know that it wouldn't take long until he would explode. None of these lords knew anything about war and those who did were at the front.

Being in Harrenhal disgusted him more than anything, but if the Lords' plans were to be followed, he might as well write a letter to Daemon Targaryen and ask him to put his sword through his head. The fact that there were actually those who suggested the attack on King's Landing, only with Vhagar, could no longer be surpassed in terms of intellectual limitation.

"I suggest that we use Princess Rhaenyra's daughter and use her against the Blacks," Owen Fossoway suggested. He was the Lord of Cider Hall and the head of House Fossoway. Lord Unwin Peake, Lord of Starpike, agreed and Aemond looked at the small man who was as broad as he was tall.

"A perfect hostage," Ser Alfred Broome agreed, and his mate, whose name Aemond didn't even know, clapped him on the shoulder in agreement. "Maybe our men should have a little fun with her, I mean, like a royal welcome."

Ser Alfred Broome and the men around him jumped as Aemond's chair fell over from the momentum he pushed it backwards and looked surprised at their prince, who wasted no time in grabbing Ser Alfred by the collar and pinning him to the wall behind him. He drew his dagger and pressed it to Ser Alfred's cheek.

"Do you know how I lost my eye, Ser Alfred?" he asked in a sweet voice, feeling a sense of satisfaction when he saw the fear in the man's eyes.

Without waiting for an answer, he moved the tip of the dagger closer to the eye of the man who was pressing himself against the wall behind him in panic.

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗡 I AEMOND TARGARYENWhere stories live. Discover now