The Dragons and Their Sun (aemond/oc)

aurora XXII

im back. an update -- my grandpa did pass away. i grieved, grieved, and then when i was done grieving, i grieved some more. i wasn't in a good place when i made that random update like a month ago. so its gone. in case anyone is confused. if you did read it, you'll recognize the start of this chapter. i edited some of it and combined it with what i have just written. i shouldnt have uploaded it when i was in such a bad place mentally. especially when, at the end, i mentioned coming back to this story when i knew damn well i wasnt ready for it. but im doing a lot better now mentally.

now onto the other news. i will be going back and editing this story. hopefully majorly. so much of this story is filler and just fluff (not that there's a problem with that) but it doesnt need to be 65+ chapters. so im going to be combining chapters where i see fit. also im going to be adding scenes where i see fit as well. i mean my main couple, aurora and aemond, have no romantic development. like at all. they become friends through letters, theres a time skip, and suddenly they're in love???? so im hoping to actually flesh them out a bit as a couple. okay onto the chapter !!

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"Why don't I look like you, mama?" A small, high-pitched voice sounded from somewhere in front of her. She couldn't see through the dream-like haze that had clouded her vision. Her first instinct was to feel fear, thinking she was being thrown into another vision of future danger. She's had enough of that. She didn't truly know just how much more she could take at the moment. She was healing, not healed. She so desperately needed the time to be able to breathe.

She began tapping her soothing rhythm into her arm as she fought to control her breathing. She cleared all thoughts as she breathed, her ears tuning out the conversation that was happening in this dream prison she was stuck in. Once the nails digging at her throat finally gave way, she allowed herself to think. To look. To feel what was happening around her.

The very first clear thought that didn't stem from her seemingly never ending anxiety was that she didn't feel a sense of danger like she usually did. She was able to control her breathing here. That, alone, was different. A quick glance around the room she was in told her nothing. She didn't recognize the room at all.

It was nighttime, wherever she was. Exactly three candles lit the room, but the third was on its way to death. Her attention was diverted just as the third candle started to flicker out, her eyes darting over to a door as it was gently pushed open from somewhere behind her. She sucked in a breath as she took in who had entered.

He was older, but she would know him anywhere. She took a shaky breath. Her visions were usually a clear sign of danger; did that mean her love would be in danger sometime in their future? The thought was almost too much to bear. She only allowed herself a mere moment of panic as she grasped her trembling hands to still them. She ignored how they still shook in her grip. She pushed her fear down as she set her thoughts on remembering–on focusing. Her eyes, once again, swept the room, taking in its sights through a different point of view. She knew she needed to keep an eye out for this room in her future. Whatever she was about to witness, she would stop it. She would die before she let anything happen to him.

Her alert eyes followed his back, the tiniest of smiles coming to her lips as she took in the sight of his hair. It was still long. He had it pinned back, but unruly strands fell into his face. He was older, yes, but he was still the most beautiful thing she's ever laid eyes on. Her thought was only proven more true as her beloved's face lit up in a smile that instantly took her breath away. It paused her in her movements of stepping closer to him. He was almost blinding. She's seen him happy before, but she's never seen him this happy.

His sheer happiness made a laugh bubble in her throat before she could stop it. It came out in a breathy chuckle as she drank in his happiness like a dehydrated mad woman. At that moment, she wished she could paint. She wanted to capture this moment and carry it with her forever.