The Black Death

XVIII: First touch

His hands were cold and calloused, not unlike her own; every dragon rider had rough hands from hanging onto the reins of their dragon's saddle.

As she stood up and allowed herself to be guided by Aemond towards the hall, next to Jacaerys and Helaena, who were enjoying themselves like children—joyful and carefree—Visenya and Aemond were a stark contrast to their siblings. As they took their places, standing face to face, Aemond slowly let go of Visenya's hand, letting his fingers linger.

Perhaps it was the wine, or just his lingering touch; something in Visenya felt uneasy, like standing on her feet was a challenge. But challenging her uncle was beginning to be quite an entertaining way of spending her time, so she was determined to win this dance as well.

They began circling each other, and from the outside, they seemed like two animals ready to attack rather than family members dancing. Each spin, each touch of hands, painfully precise and calculated. While Helaena and Jacaerys were enjoying themselves, Visenya and Aemond seemed entirely too serious, focused on catching each other's mistakes.

The rest of the family enjoyed the show the two pairs put on, clapping and cheering for the dancing couples formed by the two pairs. Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanged looks of gratitude with one another, perhaps deep down thankful that even if so late in life, their children got along as well as they once did.

Viserys looked at the pairs in deep thought. Although his mind was not what it used to be, nor was his body, Visenya's care had brought him back some clarity. As he watched Jacaerys spin Helaena around, he remembered Rhaenyra's offer to marry them.

"Why had they not?" he wondered. But what a shame it was, not allowing such a beautiful pair to exist. He turned to look at Rhaenyra and Daemon, exchanging whispers and laughing in each other's ear, happier than he'd ever seen them when they were apart. Viserys turned the Arryn ring he had on his finger, remembering his own late lady wife, an ache in his heart he could never recover from. As his thoughts about love and marriage filled his heart, he looked at the dancers once more.

Visenya.

Aemond.

What a beautiful couple indeed.

The music slowed down, the melody turning into a peaceful, lullaby-like tune. Jacaerys bowed to Helaena and led her back to her seat, but Visenya and Aemond remained standing. He guided her hand onto his shoulder, as his own fingers reached for her torso.

The silence that had shielded them throughout the dancing was broken by Aemond as he got close to her ear.

"I take it Daemon's outburst troubled you?" his question sounded taunting.

Visenya's nails dug into his shoulder.

He repaid the favor by pushing his fingers deeper into her side.

"You do not understand the matters of which you are trying to speak, uncle," she lifted her head to meet his eye. The two of them were ready to tear each other apart, both burning with the desire to humiliate one another.

And yet, neither let go as they kept on swaying to the rhythm.

Aemond smirked at her annoyance, finally having struck a nerve after she has been taunting him ever since she arrived.

"I think I understand way more than you realize, niece," he looked at Daemon behind her. "Fathers can be such irritating creatures."

Fathers? Was that what he thought it was? That she was ashamed of being a bastard? She could laugh. Had her mother and brother's reputation not been on the line, Visenya would bear the name Waters for all she cared. But of course, Aemond was his mother's son, and the thought of people having a child out of wedlock must have scared him just as much as the thought of a woman's bare body.