In the Embrace of Green Flame

TWENTY FOUR

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In the dim, dank dungeons, Aemond and Alicent stood at a distance, their faces devoid of emotion as they silently observed the torturer's sadistic work while he placed burning red-hot irons on Alys. Larys continued his relentless questioning, but the women endured each agonizing burn in resolute silence. Aemond's bitterness couldn't be contained, and he muttered his thoughts bitterly to his mother.

"She should just die," he hissed, the anger and frustration palpable in his voice.

"Patience." Alicent turned to face Aemond and grabbed his arms. She needed him to understand the gravity of the situation. "I had Talya add the moon tea."

Aemond's initial instinct was to pull away from his mother's grasp, but Alicent held on, determined to make him comprehend the dire circumstances. "You put Vaella at risk," he accused, turning his head away from her gaze in disappointment or anger. It was hard for him to determine what feeling he felt more of.

Alicent, her eyes brimming with tears, implored her son, "Look at me." She gently turned his head back to meet her gaze, her vulnerability laid bare. "I'm trying to save her, Aemond. The White Worm told Larys that Vaella has until she's given birth."

As Aemond remained silent, Alicent continued with a deep sigh, her voice tinged with regret. "I need to figure out who sent her, for your wife and child's sake. Forgive me for endangering Vaella, but you must understand I did not have many choices."

There was not an instant response. Aemond was struggling in regard to whether he should try to understand his mother or lash out on her. He felt the least she could have done was mention the plan to him before it took place. Aemond's response was cold, "She has two weeks to speak, or I'll end her life." Just as he was about to turn away, Tayla appeared behind him.

"Your Grace," Tayla bowed her head to Alicent. "My prince," she bowed her head to Aemond. "This arrived from Lord Vaemond on Driftmark," she said, handing a parchment to Alicent.

Alicent's hands trembled slightly as she read the contents of the letter, and her expression grew even more solemn. She then looked up at Tayla and nodded, dismissing her with a silent gesture of gratitude.

"Corlys is suspected to be dying, and so Vaemond believes he is the rightful heir to Driftmark. He will come in a week's time to request it," Alicent explained to Aemond.

Aemond's fury was evident as he absorbed the news. They both knew who else would show up. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Alicent sighed with exasperation. "Tell Vaella about her mother."

Despite the anger that still simmered within him, Aemond offered his mother a consoling hand on her shoulder. It was a small gesture to convey that, no matter what would happen with Rhaenyra's return, Vaella would always consider Alicent her mother. With that understanding, he turned away from her and made his way back to Vaella.

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Upon entering his chambers, Aemond found the atmosphere strangely calm and serene. Vaella was laying on a long elegant chair, her soft humming filling the room. She lovingly rubbed her stomach as she hummed, her melodic tone seeming like a soothing lullaby meant for their child.

Aemond stood in the doorway, mesmerized by the sight of his wife, completely absorbed in her own world. Her eyes were closed, and a serene smile graced her lips as she sang to their baby. He quietly approached her, kneeling by her side and placing a gentle hand on her stomach, feeling the subtle movements of their child.

Vaella's eyes fluttered open, and as her gaze met his, her expression remained conflicted. She muttered, "You've returned." Her voice, though not devoid of warmth, still carried the weight of lingering upset.

As Vaella began to sit up with Aemond's gentle assistance, her movements were slow and weak. She continued to speak, her voice carrying a hint of bitterness, "And what fate awaits Alys now?"

Aemond's response carried solemnity and directness as he stated, "Death awaits her in two weeks' time." His words hung heavily in the air, and Vaella couldn't suppress a snort, making her stance on the matter abundantly clear. A trace of frustration tinged Aemond's voice as he withdrew his hand from her, remarking, "You're being impudent."

Vaella, with a hint of annoyance, let out another snort and retorted, "Impudent? My, you certainly have a charming way of addressing your dear wife, my love."

Aemond's frustration intensified, prompting him to question her, "Why are you upset with me, Vaella? I was not the one who attempted to harm you."

Vaella met his gaze with a glare and shot back with anger in her voice, "Your temper will be the death of us."

Her eyes took on an introspective edge as she continued, her voice firm and unwavering, "Viserys is dying, and you've told me for years of the impending war that will follow his death. It's clear that Rhaenyra will never be accepted as queen. And I doubt Aegon will accept his role. That leaves you, Aemond... but I fear that you act too irrationally."

Aemond's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and restraint. He stood abruptly, towering over Vaella, his presence filling the room with a palpable tension. Ignoring her words completely, he announced in a cold, detached tone, "Rhaenyra is coming to the keep in a week." The words were spoken like a decree, leaving no room for a response.

Without another glance at Vaella, Aemond turned on his heel and strode towards the door. His steps were heavy, each one echoing his growing frustration and unresolved anger. The door slammed shut behind him, reverberating through the chambers, a stark contrast to the serenity that had filled the room just moments before.

As Aemond departed, Vaella was besieged by an incessant repetition of Rhaenyra's name in her thoughts. She found herself bewildered by Aemond's nonchalant delivery of such grave news, a clear testament to his tempestuous temperament. It left her with an unsettling sense of unease.

And her mother—after all these years, she had the audacity to return. How long had it been? Nine, perhaps ten years? Vaella had lost count. Did Rhaenyra even remember that she had a daughter? How was Vaella supposed to react to seeing her again?

Under the weight of these pressing questions, the baby within her womb responded with heightened kicks, causing Vaella to clutch her stomach in agony. "My little dragon, please stay calm," she managed to utter amid her discomfort, her voice quivering with concern.

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