#response has been BONKERS so far guys thank you so muchhhhh <3333

[sydsrichie]

'til queendom come, ch. 5

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 12,063

summary: the prince and the lady had loved each other since childhood, and it was plain for all to see. But what had drawn them to each other in the first place - their valour and virtue - threatened to tear them apart as they found themselves on opposing sides of a cruel war.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse, including against minors

a/n: gah I'm excited about posting this one! All the love I've been getting is amazing, guys. Hope you enjoy! Ch6 will be up next weekend <3

content warning: mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse, including against minors. it's no more than what is already in the show and there is no descriptions but please proceed with caution if that is something that could be triggering to you. Stay safe, friends <3

Even being kept away from King’s Landing by her father for long years could not keep Sena from thinking of Aemond day and night. Their letters only grew in frequency and volume, though Sena had well-warned the Prince that nothing came to her without meeting Maester Gerardys’ eye first. So the content remained their usual conversations of court, training, studies, but Sena still devoured each one hungrily and replied with as much haste as she dared.

…You had best train hard in these coming weeks, as my father has acquiesced to my joining the family at court to defend Lucerys against Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s overreaching for power. That we should have to dignify such calumnies with a response is unthinkable to me, but I shall gladly take the opportunity to visit with Helaena and the children, the King and Queen… and you, of course. I plan on finding out if Ser Criston has taught you anything worth knowing.

The teasing letter to Aemond had been met with an equally taunting reply.

…I pride myself on knowing many things worth knowing, my lady, but few of them are Cole’s wisdom. Regardless, you shall be on the receiving end of my knowledge upon your next visit, should that be your desire. My only request is that you be mindful of what you wish for.

It had raised a violent blush in Sena’s cheeks, and her only thought was that Maester Gerardys must be a fool if he truly did not suspect anything. But then, what did a Maester of the Citadel, hunchbacked from long years spent in libraries and rookeries know of matters of love?

Sena came to a sudden halt as she thought it, actually stopping dead in her pacing of her bedroom. Love… was that what this was? She loved Aemond as family and as a friend, she always had since they were six years old. But as more than that? I think I might love you, that was what she had told him, in Vhagar’s cavern. She desired him, of that there was no doubt. She had found herself growing hot and flushed at the thought of his kisses, on her lips and neck, the way he had pulled their hips flush together.

There was desire, and then there was love. The men of her family had always made quite clear what it was to desire a woman without loving her - they never made any secret of their habits on the Street of Silk, spoke of it quite openly in fact. And love without desire… Ser Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra had loved each other, of that there was no doubt, but they had never looked at each other with that hunger that she often saw in men’s eyes.

When they worked as one together, love and desire… when Aemond had opened her eyes to the true machinations of her family, Sena had seen it in the glances that the Princess and Ser Harwin Strong shared with each other. The looks that the Princess and her father shared now. The pink tinge in Jace’s cheeks when Baela caught him watching her from across the training yard.

Trying to set the matter from her head for now, Sena resolved to simply talk to the Prince about it when she got to King’s Landing. What use would turning it over and over in her head do, far away from King’s Landing and with no means of speaking privately? No, it was of no use, she thought, shaking her head vehemently and going back to her packing.

The journey of the Princess’s household to King’s Landing was made by ship, to accommodate the staff, the small children and the Princess’ swelling belly - her third child with Sena’s father. The pace of the sea journey only unsettled Sena further, who was itching to get back to the city. She only felt herself grow calmer once she was passing through the gates of the Red Keep. She was, however, a little taken aback at the absence of any reception for their arrival. So it was going to be that sort of visit, she thought grimly, watching as the Princess and her father set foot in King’s Landing for the first time in many years.

The Princess was affronted and Sena’s father looked downright malevolent, so their children were more than happy to escape at the earliest opportunity. Rhaena went in immediate search of Baela, who had been ward to Princess Rhaenys these last few years, and the boys slipped off to follow the servants with their baggage to their rooms and get settled in. Sena followed a few paces behind Jace and Luke, her brow further furrowing with each seven-pointed star she laid eyes on where once had been the heraldry of her house. Dragon banners, dragon skulls, mosaics of flame and battle, all gone, replaced with holy imagery. Sena had little time for the faith the Conquerors had dutifully adopted when they came to Westeros - she was half Valyrian and half the blood of the First Men, after all. And if there were truly Gods up there watching her, she had never heard them. She chewed her lip and kept walking.

In her room, the servants were already unpacking her things and her own maidservant, Sophey had made sure that her training gear was laid out first for her. A long few days spent sitting around on a boat and a morning confined to a carriage had put an itch into her, and it was about time she scratched it. She stepped behind the changing screen and unceremoniously pulled her dress off over her head, swapping silk for leather. She laced her boots in a hurry and got her sword belt on just in time to catch up with Jacaerys and Lucerys on their own way to the yard. “Look at us, going to train without even being commanded! My father would be proud of us,” she said, and Jace smirked as if to say how unlikely that was. Luke had been wearing a solemn expression for days now, and it made Sena’s heart ache to see. She threw an arm around the shoulders of the young boy who was now at her chin. When had he gotten so tall? “You should be careful, sweet boy. If you keep frowning like that the wind will change and your face will be stuck that way,” she said, mimicking the grumpy look on his face to make him smile.

He turned up the corner of his mouth and leaned into her. “Sorry, just… nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t say sorry, it’s understandable,” Jace said from his brother’s other side, giving him a reassuring smile.

“It is. But you won’t be alone tomorrow. Your mother will speak for you, and we will all be by your side. You just have to stand there and look pretty,” Sena said and squeezed the young boy’s shoulders.

“Gods, that will be an impossible task then!” Jace said. Luke balked and gave him a shove, but it did the job, because he was laughing now rather than frowning. They laughed all the way down to the yard.

As Jace and Luke made their way over to the weapons racks, Sena took a moment to stand still in the buzz of the yard and take it in. The full rainbow of different heraldry passed before her eyes as lords and lordlings, knights and squires went about their drills. White cloaks of the Kingsguard whipped in motion as the finest knights in the realm refined their skills. And here she was, stood in the middle of it, and nobody could make her leave. The daughter of the King’s brother, the step-daughter of the Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Throne, a woman grown. No-one could tell her to go now, even if they wanted to.

And they did want to, she thought, watching different sets of eyes flit away from her as she turned to meet their disapproving glares. She ignored them and gripped the ruby-studded hilt of her sword in her hand and looked around for a worthy - and willing - opponent.

That was when her eyes caught on the telltale shock of silver blonde hair.

The last couple of years had been good to Aemond, shaving away the last of the childish roundness in his features and leaving him tall and lean. Better than that, he stood strong, wearing the eyepatch over his left eye without a hint of self-consciousness. She hoped she might have played some small part in that, desiring him and loving him despite what he thought of as his flaws.

Prince Aemond twisted out of Ser Criston Cole’s reach with all the fluidity of water, then brought himself back down on his opponent with deadly speed. Sena’s heart surged in her chest, and she pushed her way through the growing crowd of spectators. It seemed all the men on the yard wanted to watch the Prince and the Queen’s sworn shield dance, she thought with a surge of satisfaction as Aemond held his own against one of the finest knights in the realm.

She gritted her teeth as Ser Criston’s favoured Morningstar splintered Aemond’s shield on his arm. He looked utterly nonplussed though, keeping a calm focus on his opponent as he discarded the ruined shield. Then, Sir Criston was launching a barrage of attacks, and Sena gripped her arms tightly against her chest as she watched Aemond feint left, right, back. His clever eye spotted his opening and he threw Ser Criston’s next strike wide with his own sword, spinning around the Kingsguard to end with his blade at Ser Criston’s neck.

Ser Criston grinned with pride as the spectators broke into applause. Sena watched Aemond’s back with her heart in her throat. She had not seen him fight in years, since they were children, and he had grown into an incredible swordsman. Like her own style in a lot of ways - fluid, dynamic, conserving stamina and exploiting mistakes where they were made. “Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time,” Ser Criston said, Aemond’s sword still at his neck.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” the Prince replied. His voice sounded colder and harder than it had when she had last seen him. “Nephews?” Sena spotted Jace and Luke across the way from her, holding Aemond’s gaze with an iciness that set her on edge. “Have you come to train?”

Jace bristled and Luke swayed on the spot, discomfited. Sena gritted her teeth. Must he tease them so? “Or you could try picking on someone your own size,” the words were coming out before she’d even decided to speak them. Aemond, Ser Criston, Jace, Luke and all the other spectators turned to look at her. Her jaw tightened as a wave of titters spread through the crowd.

All of that melted away when Aemond smiled at her, though. He inclined his head to her. “My lady.”

“My prince,” she said, willing the sudden thrum of her heart to slow.

Her stepbrothers and the assembled knights and lords were distracted by the arrival of Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s procession into the lower yard, leaving Sena and Aemond free to take their fill of each other. He was only six feet away and it was still too far. “How have you been?” She asked him, in lieu of all of the things she actually wanted to say.

“Lonely,” he said, low enough so that it was only for her ears, “and you?”

“Forlorn,” she countered, and his lips twitched, “though I’ll feel better once I’ve beaten you.”

He had that maddening smirk on his face that she longed to kiss away. The people around them were starting to disperse now, going back to their sparring matches or following the Velaryons into the keep so they might ready themselves for supper. “Alright. If it’s a duel you desire, you shall have one,” Aemond said, turning and walking in an arc to clear some space around them, “though, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sena barely had time to draw before Aemond was on her, and the clash of steel rung out across the yard. She shifted back and let him come at her again, knocking his blow aside and swinging around him in a replication of his earlier move. He knew his own tactics, though, and ducked out of her way with fluid haste.

It was less a fight and more a dance, Aemond taking every opportunity to drag her close and get in her space. At one point, she was too slow to duck away from him and he threw his sword arm around her, pulling her to his chest. Disguised in the tussle, he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her neck, and Sena shivered even as she sharply elbowed him in the gut.

He doubled over, looking betrayed but amused, and met her sword again with his own as she went back on the attack.

Much later, when they were just about the last two left in the yard, exhausted and sweating, Aemond threw his sword down in the dirt. “I yield,” he said, raising his hands. “My mother hates me being late to dinner.”

Sena laughed. “You’re such a mummy’s boy.”

He made a face at her but did not deny it. “Guilty as charged.”

Sena sheathed her sword and kicked his own one back towards him. She cast a furtive glance around at the lingering knights on the yard and servants on the walkways. This bloody place, she feared they would get no time alone her entire visit. “You have become a fine swordsman, my prince,” she said.

He nodded. “And you, my lady. It seems your father did something right by you, at long last.”

She cast a sharp glance around, shocked at his being so brazen. “Aemond,” she hissed. When did he and his family become so bold? Removing the heraldry of House Targaryen, flouting her father where they could be heard. She knew the King was not well, but things had truly changed.

He gave her a look. “It’s alright. He doesn’t have any friends at my mother’s court.” His mother’s court.

“Still-“

“Sena,” he said, and hearing her name from his lips was like a salve on a burn, sweet relief and tingling sensation. He drew close enough to touch. “Stop worrying. You’re safe with me.”

She sighed, and knocked their arms together as she turned. “Walk me to my room?” There was no chance of her father letting her dine with the Queen tonight, so she knew she would not see Aemond again until the morrow, and she was reticent to leave him.

Their elbows knocked and the backs of their hands grazed together as Aemond took her the long way up through the stairs and hallways of the Red Keep. “Hard to believe this is all I get of you,” he said lowly, his lips barely moving, “snatched moments when your father deigns to let you out of his sight.”

She brushed two fingers over the back of his hand and he pressed into her touch. “And it shan’t even last long. I doubt they’ll want to hang around after they have reaffirmed Lucerys’s claim.”

“I wouldn’t be too confident, my love,” he said, coming into the quiet corridor that led to her room. “Things are different around here. The winds are changing. My father is- he is not well. Or so the maesters say. I haven’t seen him for myself in a moon’s turn.”

Something ached inside of her at the thought of her ailing uncle suffering through the days. “A moon?”

His lips were pursed. “Don’t look surprised. He had more interest in you than he had in me growing up, so I don’t plan on running to his bedside and playing the grieving son now.”

Sena frowned. She hadn’t meant it like that, not truly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He bit his lip and leaned back against the wall opposite her door. She made no move to leave him just yet, but she kept a careful distance. She had learned they needed to be careful who they were seen by, but he also seemed different since the last time she’d seen him. Less boyish and moody, more measured and tightly wound. Like he was lying in wait.

He seemed to be arguing with himself about something, an argument that he eventually lost, as he opened his mouth to speak. “Is it true about your sisters?” He asked. She frowned at the set of his brow. “The Clubfoot has passed us whispers of them being betrothed to my nephews so that Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys will align themselves with my half-sister.”

Sena set her jaw in irritation. “You don’t align yourself with the crowned heir, Aemond, it’s called loyalty-“

He glared at her. “I am loyal to my family,” he said, pushing off of the wall to draw closer to her, like a stalking wildcat. “My true family. Meaning my mother, my sister, my brothers…” he cast a look down either side of the hall to check they were alone, then pressed his hand into her own, “and you.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Aemond-“

He shook his head to stop her. “Don’t you see, Sena? This could be our chance, you and I,” his voice dropped to a whisper, drawing closer to her still. He held her gaze and he had mastered that serious look of his when they were six years old. “Your sisters are marrying. My father still lives. We are both of age. This could be our chance, Sena, our last chance, before they force other arrangements on us when everything goes to shit.”

She took a sharp breath, unsure if she was understanding him correctly. “Do you mean-“

There was unshakeable certainty in his eye. “Marry me.”

Sena’s vision swam a little unevenly, looking down at their joined hands. Like two interlocking puzzle pieces, made for each other. “I wish it were that simple,” she said, her voice sounding shaky. “My father-“

“It is that simple,” he interrupted, his jaw set. “I do not wish for a penny of a dowry from my uncle so he can have no objections. Do not ask him, Sena, tell him.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know my father?” 

But he was not listening to her though, lost in a fantasy of his own creation. “Marry me,” he said, bringing up a hand to cup her cheek. His hands were warm and rough and Sena could not help but lean into his touch. “Marry me and I will give you all that is mine to give you, Sena. You will be a Princess, you will live in luxury, your rooms will be down the hall from Helaena. All for the small price of having to wake up next to me each and every morning for the rest of your life.”

She laughed and pressed their hands to the space over her heart. She could imagine nothing sweeter. “What an arduous task that would be.”

“I know. Cruel, isn’t it?” He japed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

It was the only thing in the world she had ever truly desired, and yet a single doubt swirled in her mind. Her mouth went dry, but she forced it out. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

He went still and the smile evaporated from his features. “You have to ask?” He was stunned. He clenched his jaw and anger clouded his handsome features, turning his head to look down the hall to where her father and Princess Rhaenyra were quartered. He was like a tempest, she thought, unpredictable and ferocious. “That brute will pay for every time he’s ever made you feel unloveable, Sena-“

“Forget about him. It’s not about him. This is about us,” she gritted out, pulling his gaze back to hers with a hand under his chin. She was so sick of everything in her life being about Prince Daemon. She just wanted Aemond to say it, so she could hear it and know it was true. “Do you love me?”

He looked at her, truly looked at her and the anger dissipated from his features. Their gazes held each other and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. She could feel his breath on her lips, smell the rosemary oil in his hair. “I have loved you half a lifetime, Sena.”

“Aemond-”

“No, I mean it,” he said with a soft smile. “Ever since that day in the Dragonpit, I have been blissfully happy every day I have had you, savagely lonely every day I have not. And every second of every hour, I have loved you.”

She couldn’t take it any longer, the swell of her chest and the burning in her soul. She surged forwards, taking his face in both her hands and kissing him desperately, not giving a damn who could interrupt at any moment. He was surprised at first, then pushed back against her, and she felt her back hit the wall, felt his hands cushion the back of her head and tangle in her hair as he kissed her back mercilessly, a dam breaking inside of him. Tears sprang free from the corners of her eyes and a whimper ripped from her throat as she clawed at him, needing him closer, needing him never to leave her side again, not even for a moment. Everything in her world started and ended with him.

He pushed in closer and they were joined from thigh to rib to shoulder. His hips did a queer roll against hers. Friction sparked in some secret place and she gasped, stars bursting behind her eyes. She fisted her hands into his hair, then moved them down to his back, pressing him closer as he mouthed lasciviously at her neck. His lower back curved inwards, his hips moved again and her hands flew to the swell of his backside, urging him to keep doing whatever he was doing.

All of a sudden, she was left cold as he broke away from her with a strangled sound, panting into the space between them. She was overcome with a desire to make him want her, to use every inch of herself to take him apart. She grabbed his hands and pulled them to her waist, her hips. His eye was dark with hunger. “Come inside,” she said in a bare whisper, “forget about the rest of them, we can make something up, just come inside. Come inside.”

He gritted his teeth together. “No,” he whispered, “no.” He was struggling, she could tell, his hands trembling as he drew them back from her body.

“Aemond.”

“No. I won’t ruin you.”

She would not hear it. It was madness. She was twenty years of age and she could not choose when she would know another’s touch. She was not one of Helaena’s fragile insects to be pinned behind glass, preserved and possessed. “Ruin?” She asked softly. “How could something so beautiful ever be ruin?”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We would be beautiful, wouldn’t we? You and I, together as one?” 

She shivered against him at the thought. How was he so controlled? “Show me,” she whispered. “Show me,” she begged.

He pulled back and shook his head. “I would never do anything to endanger you, Sena,” he said and squeezed her hands in his once more before letting go. “Talk to your father.”

His absence against her was like a winter wind. “Aemond,” she pleaded.

“Talk to your father.”

Then he was gone, stalking up the hall before he could lose his composure and change his mind.

She let out a breath and leaned back against her door like a marionette with cut strings.

It took Sena an inordinate amount of time to ready herself for supper as she found herself becoming distracted, brushing her fingers over her lips, her neck, her hips, her waist, everywhere he had touched. The tangles in her hair that he had put there, raking his long fingers through her curls. She sighed and stared wistfully in the looking glass, seeing how they had looked together in the reflection the morning of Helaena’s wedding.

It was only when her maidservant knocked and entered that she dragged herself out of her thoughts. “The Queen and the Princess will be in the Princess’s rooms after supper, m’lady. They will be expecting you,” she said as she helped Sena pin back her hair.

“Thank you, Sophey,” Sena said with a distant smile.

Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon looked particularly perturbed at supper, Sena thought, but she did not have the time nor the inclination to find out why. She ate her supper, clicked her nails off of her glass with impatience and excused herself as quickly as she could without being rude - or terribly rude, anyway. Speaking to her father would have to wait until after the proceedings tomorrow, not that she was overly upset at the idea of putting off that task for as long as possible.

No sooner was she admitted to the Princess’s sitting room than she was being gathered into Helaena’s arms in a crushing hug. “Princess,” she murmured, combing her fingers through blonde tresses.

“Oh Sena, it’s so good to see you,” Helaena said, pulling back and planting a kiss on both of Sena’s cheeks. Sena blushed and brought her in for one more hug.

“Lady Visenya,” the Queen greeted, and Sena stepped away from her daughter.

She curtseyed before the Queen. “Queen Alicent,” she said. The Queen’s sober expression melted into a smile and she was being pulled into another hug. 

“It’s good to see you.”

“Mama!” Came a small squawk, and Sena turned around to see a blonde-haired girl tugging at Helaena’s skirts with a wooden knight in hand. The girl’s twin was behind her, sitting on the rug before the fire and staring at the stranger in his midst.

“Oh,” Sena breathed at the sight of the two perfect little souls.

Helaena beamed and crouched down next to the girl. “Jaehaera, I have told you about Aunt Sena, haven’t I? Mummy’s friend?”

The little girl turned wide lilac eyes upwards at Sena and leaned into her mother, trying to hide in the folds of her dress. She nodded shyly.

“Aunt Sena?” Sena asked Helaena, surprised by the emotion thick in her voice.

Helaena smiled. “It felt right.”

Sena nodded, not trusting herself to speak without her voice wobbling. The Queen laid a hand on her shoulder. She drew a breath to steady herself. “And the babe?”

“Maelor is with his wet nurse in the nursery,” the Queen said. “He still sleeps most of the day, but he’s a delightful little boy when he wakes, all smiles. The Princess has done so well.”

“I see that,” Sena said with a watery smile as Helaena ducked her head, blushing at the praise.

Sena knew it was improper to sit down on the carpet next to the twins in the fine dress she had worn to dinner, especially in the presence of the Queen. But Helaena’s children were too sweet to resist, she was sure their grandmother could understand that. They were precocious too, examining this new intruder to their little world with curiosity. Jaehaera toddled over to her and tugged at her hair with a small, pudgy fist, causing the ladies to chuckle at her. The boy brought her a small toy horse, complete with a mane and tail. “Hello, my Prince, what is your name?” Sena asked. Jaehaera seemed to trust her quick enough, clambering into her lap, but Jaehaerys remained a little unsure, standing back from her.

Lilac eyes dipped low out of shyness and he mumbled, “Jery…”

“They have not quite mastered their names yet,” Helaena said with a doting smile from her seat on the settee. Her body was still recovering from the birth of her younger son, but Sena’s heart surged to see her practically glowing. Motherhood suited her kind and gentle friend well.

“You have made a good start, though, Jaehaerys,” Sena told the little boy, holding the pony toy in one hand and Jaehaera in the other. “I have never mastered mine yet, everyone still calls me Sena. They give us frightfully difficult names to say, don’t they?” She said, sending a playful smirk at the Queen.

Queen Alicent raised an eyebrow. “Do not point such an accusation at me, my lady. If it had been up to me, my boys would have been Addams and Gwaynes,” she said with good humour.

Sena laughed. “Helaena remains a pretty name, though, for a pretty girl.” Her best friend went a little pink in the cheeks at that. Sena looked down at the sweet little horse in her hand. “Is this your favourite toy?” She asked the little boy.

His white-blonde hair was smooth, sleek and fell about his shoulders. He brushed it out of his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded.

“It was a name day gift, wasn’t it, Jaehaerys? Tell Aunt Sena who it was from,” Helaena said, and sent a secretive smile at her friend.

Jaehaerys chewed his lip. “Uncle ‘Emon.”

Sena broke into a grin and turned the little horse over in her hands, looking at the matching knight that Jaehaera had left on the carpet. It was a sweet thing, lovingly painted and carved. She was sure he’d maybe gone out into the city and bought it from a merchant, but she also wouldn’t put it past the Prince to be hiding some great carpentry skill from her. He was a man of mystery after all. “Is Uncle Aemond good to you?”

Jaehaerys nodded and Jaehaera chimed in from Sena’s lap. “He says when I’m big, I can go on Vhagar with him!” She said excitedly.

The Queen stiffened in her chair, looking alarmed, but Helaena was smiling widely and Sena’s heart was melting at the thought of Aemond bringing toys and planning adventures with his niece and nephew. “Well, Prince Jaehaerys will just have to come with me on Grey Ghost, then, and we can have a race,” she said, giving the little boy a smile. That seemed to finally win him over and he nodded vigorously, plopping himself down on the carpet before Sena and his sister.

The twins played with their sweet little toys and Sena joined in with a small dragon, painted blue and sent all the way from Oldtown by their Uncle Daeron. “Are we like to see Prince Daeron back at court soon, my Queen?” Sena asked. “I haven’t seen that sweet boy’s smile in far too long.”

The Queen looked wistful. “I hope so, Sena. Believe me, no one misses him more than I. But he is no longer a boy, or so he tells me! It seems he has grown much and learned more as ward to my cousin, Lord Ormund.”

“He must come back soon,” Helaena said, and looked at Sena. “And you must stay. I so wish we could all be together again, like the old days. Imagine, Sena, we could raise our babes together and they could grow up as close as we did!”

It was a beautiful dream, and it made Sena’s heart ache just to think about it. Their children being as mischievous and unruly as they had been, driving Helaena and herself mad. Taking suppers with Helaena and walking with her in the godswood. Kissing Aemond awake in the morning. She would fix his eyepatch and he would lace her dresses, just so they could have as much alone time together as they could before they began their respective days. 

Gods, what a sweet dream it was.

Sena caught the Queen staring at her curiously, like she was trying to divine her thoughts. She felt her cheeks go pink as she wondered how long she had been sitting there silent, thinking of the life she could lead if she was Aemond’s wife. Jaehaera saved her though, by letting off a gigantic yawn. “Gosh, how does such a big sound come out of someone so little?” Sena said, and the little girl giggled and squirmed as Sena tickled her sides.

Helaena sighed happily. “Come, then, bedtime. Say goodnight to Aunt Sena.”

“Night!” Jaehaera said, pushing herself up and wobbling a little as she clambered out of Sena’s lap. 

Sena laughed and ducked her head to press a kiss to the girl’s hair. “Good night, Princess.”

Jaehaerys pushed himself up from the rug as well, and leaned over a little uncertainly to wrap his little arms around Sena’s neck. “Night,” he said quietly.

Sena rubbed his back. “Good night, my Prince,” she said. “And don’t forget, we’ll have our race with Uncle Aemond and Vhagar before long.”

The boy gave her a shy smile and gave his hand to his mother. “I’ll be back once the wet nurse and I have gotten them down to sleep, Sena. Shouldn’t be too long,” Helaena said and went to lead the twins down the hall to the nursery.

Sena pushed herself up off the rug and came to sit opposite the Queen, before the fire. She looked at Queen Alicent, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, and thought distantly that she was so beautiful. A graceful woman who had raised four children and now got to watch her grandchildren grow, she was regal, composed, demure. “They are wonderful. You must be so proud, my Queen.”

Alicent regarded her happily. “Endlessly,” she said simply.

Sena drew a bracing breath. She was regretful to spoil the Queen’s good mood, but the question had been preying on her mind since she arrived. “And Prince Aegon? Is he a… proud father?”

The smile on the Queen’s face regretfully evaporated at that, just as Sena had feared it would. “Aegon is… Aegon,” she said with a sigh. “You know how he is. Neither I nor Helaena nor his brother could tell you where he is right now, and that’s how he likes it. Perhaps the less that is said about him, the better.”

Sena frowned, her grip on her skirts tightening. “Is he at least good to Helaena?” She asked. “I try to glean what I can from her letters but she is hesitant to speak ill of him. Or speak of him at all, really.”

Alicent gave her a forced smile. “Truly, it is because she has little to report of him,” she said. “He leaves her and the children alone for the most part. He terrorises the serving girls but… Gods forgive me, I rather prefer that to him terrorising Helaena.”

Sena frowned. Prince Aegon had always been odious in their childhood but easy enough to ignore. Had he truly worsened so much? “He is not truly that bad, is he? There’s the drinking and the bad behaviour, yes. But underneath all that, he is still a good soul-“

“Did Aemond tell you?” The Queen interrupted suddenly. “I know he tells you almost everything, but I don’t know if he would wish to…” Her expression was grave.

Sena swallowed hard around a lump that had risen in her throat. “Did Aemond tell me what, my Queen?”

“How he… lost his innocence?” The Queen asked, a little red in the face.

“Oh,” Sena said dumbly, her own face flushing with colour. She’d always assumed Aemond would have sated his curiosity with serving girls or ladies on the Street of Silk by now. For a noble girl, her maidenhead was something to be guarded with her life. Despoilment could mean disowning, being married off to the first penniless hedge knight who would have her, or worse. But noble boys seemed to shrug off their virginity as young as they could with whoever they could. She’d never really wanted to think about how Aemond might have lost his, though. And she was not sure if she wanted to know how Aegon could be involved. “No, your Grace. He did not.”

“He was thirteen,” the Queen whispered between gritted teeth. “His scar had not even healed yet, he missed you desperately and he could not stand to look at himself in a looking glass, but Aegon brought him to the Street of Silk and bought him a whore.”

Sena’s insides churned. She gripped her skirts hard, her knuckles going white. She did not know what to say.

“The boys think I don’t know,” Alicent swiped a tear from her cheek with her thumb and shook her head to dispel the cloud of anger and grief about her. “Aegon… I don’t know how I made him so wrong.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sena said, partly because she believed it but also partly because she did not know what else to say. “Helaena and Aemond and Daeron are wonderful children that any mother would be proud to have raised.” She reached across the space between them and gently brushed the tears from the Queen’s cheeks with the backs of her fingers. Alicent caught Sena’s hands in her own and held them in her lap.

“Yes,” she said wetly. “They are, aren’t they? Let us speak of them. Let us not be sad when the Princess comes back.”

Sena felt it was not right to shrug off what the Queen was telling her, that it was clear that Alicent needed to speak about this. But she nodded. “If that is your wish, my Queen.”

She squeezed Sena’s hands. “It is,” she said, and let out a shaky sigh. “Tell me something good.”

Sena floundered for a second, opening and closing her mouth. “Erm… Prince Aemond and I duelled on the training yard today.”

The Queen nodded and smiled. “Yes. He told me at supper.”

Sena blushed. Of course he did. She wished he was here, he would know what to say, and she could speak to him about what she had just learned. But with his father so ill and his brother so… Aegon-like, she knew Aemond was currently shouldering what responsibilities of running the realm he could to take some of the weight off of his mother and grandfather. “Did he tell you I won?” By forfeit, perhaps, but she would take it.

That got the Queen to laugh, and Sena laughed with her, glad to banish a little of Alicent’s sadness. The Queen sniffed and shook her head free of the last of the darkness in her mind. Then, she turned her gaze back to Sena and gave her a serious look she was so used to seeing in her son. “Can I ask you a question, my dear?”

Sena nodded.

“Know you do not have to answer if you do not wish to,” Queen Alicent said.

The fire was crackling low in the grate, the warmth enveloping the Queen and her niece. Her words caused Sena to prickle with nerves, but she said, “If it is within my power to answer it, I will.”

The Queen nodded, then drew a breath. “Do you… love my son, Sena? Do you love Aemond?”

The question caught her unawares, and her heart seized in her chest. She looked down at her hands in the Queen’s lap. Thought of Aemond’s sharp mind, handsome face. His prowess with a sword, his glee on dragonback, his boyish laugh. His smile. How he fit their hands together like they were made for each other.

Maybe they were made for each other.

“Yes,” Sena breathed. “I do.”

The Queen nodded, like she already knew the answer, and sniffed. “Good,” she said simply.

Alicent turned back to the fire and watched the embers die.

-----

The next day was… unfortunately typical for Sena’s family. Luke had been restless at the table while they broke fast, merely pushing food around his plate. Jace looked uneasy too, and even Princess Rhaenyra appeared to be hiding her discomfort by fussing over Luke. That had left Sena and Rhaena to force down what they could, avoiding the eye of their father. Every time Sena caught Prince Daemon looking at her, it was like a fresh shock of ice water down her spine.

When it came time to convene in the throne room, Sena stood dutifully by Rhaena, behind Princess Rhaenyra and her boys and tried not to send too many glances at the other half of the royal family. Ser Otto presided over the proceedings from the foot of the throne and Sena oft caught the Queen and the Princess staring at one another. Aegon was swaying a little on his feet and looked as though he hadn’t been to bed in days, and his wife kept a distance from him, sticking to the Queen’s side and sending Sena smiles when she could. Aemond stood tall between Aegon and Helaena, dutifully not paying Sena much mind at all with her father close by. 

Prince Daemon was standing still. He was unnerving when he was barely containing his emotions, pacing like a caged lion. But it was when he reached stillness that he was truly scary.

The proceedings were more or less exactly as shameful as she’d expected, Ser Vaemond being given a place in open court to spew his thinly veiled accusations and shame the young boy before her. Sena tightened her jaw with the effort of restraining herself. It was only when the heavy doors of the throne room swung inward that Sena was caught off guard.

It was the King. He made the heroic struggle up the length of the throne room and Sena watched with her heart in her throat. Even the Queen and her children seemed a little shocked at his haggard appearance. Her poor uncle. Suddenly, the way the Queen and her family had been acting made sense. They were bracing themselves for impact. Her poor uncle did not have long left. 

He made his way up the steps of the throne with the aid of his brother, and Sena was always shocked to see the warmth her father was capable of when he desired it so, placing the King’s crown upon his brow with all the deference and love of a little brother. 

And that was when things started to truly unravel.

The King passed down his firm judgement in favour of his grandson, just as Sena had wished he would, but it was not enough to stop the mummer’s show that was unfolding before her. Vaemond was screaming vile taunts - bastards this and whore that - and even though Sena watched her father move forward on silent feet and draw Dark Sister, she did not understand what was happening until Ser Vaemond’s head fell from his shoulders.

There was screaming and an audible thud as the head hit the floor. Sena’s hand flew out and gripped Rhaena by the arm. “He can keep his tongue,” Daemon said with acid wit as the offending appendage lolled from where it was still anchored to Ser Vaemond’s mandible.

Sena stared at her father with wide eyes. This was the man she was supposed to broker her marriage with?

She tried to catch Aemond’s eye, but he was too busy watching her father with something indiscernible on his face.

Later, Sena paced the cool stone floor of her guest room on stockinged feet. Her gown, a deep blue, swished around her ankles as her stomach tied itself in knots and she tried to figure out what to say. She wished she could say she hadn’t spoken to her father yet because she was waiting for him to calm down after all that had happened. However, the truth was that Sena was scared, and that had been her father calm. Prince Daemon was at his calmest when he had a plan of action and murderous intent. She had no idea how he might react to what she had to tell him.

“This is pathetic,” she hissed to herself, and slipped her feet into her satin shoes. “You’re a woman grown, practically an old maid.” She eyed her sword from where it leaned against the wall by the door and wondered for a second, but no, it would not do to bring a weapon to the negotiating table. Even if it would give her courage.

Every step down the hall towards Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra’s shared rooms was like a step closer to the gates of hell, and Sena’s stomach was roiling. She knew the Princess would be readying herself for their family dinner by now, so she would be able to get her father to speak with her privately in the solar. She tugged her sleeves down over her hands. How she wished she had her sword.

Her knock echoed on the door, and her father’s manservant let her in. “Lady Visenya,” he announced her to the room. The Princess smiled at her from her dressing table, where she and a maidservant were fixing her hair, and her father looked up from where he was reading letters at his desk.

“Sena,” he greeted her mildly.

Sena curtseyed first to the Princess, then to the Prince. “Father,” she greeted him back.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I-“ the words caught in her throat like cobwebs as soon as she tried to speak them. “I was hoping we could talk, father. In private.”

Prince Daemon arched a brow at her, but got up from his seat anyway. “We’ve got some time before supper. Come.”

Maybe it was a mistake to not do this in front of the Princess? Rhaenyra calmed her father’s worst moods and had always been a calming influence in their turbulent relationship. But that pricked Sena’s pride too. Rhaenyra was not her mother and should not have any say in who she wed. Truthfully, neither should the man who had only deigned to clothe and feed her about half of the time while she grew up, but there was nothing to be done about that. She was still a woman and not a crowned one. She couldn’t very well make her own decisions regarding her marriage anymore than she could sprout wings and fly away, as tempting as either idea might be right now.

The door of the solar banged shut behind them, and her father lounged lazily against the desk. Sena planted her feet firmly on the carpet before him, the heat of the fire crackling in the hearth causing a sweat to break out over her skin.

Daemon shrugged his shoulders. “Come on then, out with it.”

“I- I’ve been thinking,” Sena said, drawing a steadying breath and clasping her hands before her to keep from fidgeting. “I am the eldest of your daughters and still unmarried. With Baela and Rhaena being betrothed to our stepbrothers, I thought it might be time… to broach the subject of my own marriage.”

Daemon seemed surprised. She could tell he had been beginning to think she might be something of a lost cause on that front, as he never brought it up with her or pestered her with insulting suggestions anymore. “Truly? What a happy day, daughter,” he said, without much emotion in his voice. Then, “Who is the lucky lad to have caught your eye? Who will you be making my goodson?” And oh, he knew, of that there was no mystery.

Cold dread washed over Sena. But she would not turn back now. “Father…” she said, “it is time, high time I was wed to Prince Aemond.”

Her father laughed, actually laughed, as though it were some amusing jape. “And why would I allow that?”

Sena set her jaw. She had been expecting this, though, and she was ready. “Because I will not wed another,” she said, clasping her hands tightly behind her back, standing strong, projecting her voice like she had seen Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys, the Queen do countless times. “You gave me my sword, father, and I shall use it on any man who would have me without my permission, be it a great lord or a stablehand. The only man I will wed, the only man I will have is Aemond.” 

Daemon smirked at her, his head tilted to the side. “You know, I have always been begrudgingly fond of you, my girl, despite your being a constant thorn in my side. You have the fire and courage in your veins of our house, and you’re a stubborn bitch, like your mother. That was always her most redeeming feature to me,” he said, and it caught Sena off guard. It was strange enough to hear him confess to being fond of her, let alone even mentioning her mother. And stranger still to hear him do it with something approaching a compliment. 

She opened her mouth, and stuttered for a second, in disbelief. “Does this- is that a yes?”

Daemon’s grin was more like a leer as he closed the space between them. “Oh my sweet girl, no. I would rather feed you to Caraxes than hand you and your dragon over to the Queen like a name day gift,” he said, cupping her cheek with a large, calloused hand.

The brief glimpse of hope she had felt was smothered and she repressed a shudder at his touch. “You misunderstand me,” she bit out, standing her ground. “I am not asking your permission. I will wed Prince Aemond."

Her stomach lurched as she saw that only made him angry, however. Daemon sneered at her and tightened his grip, grabbing her jaw between his thumb and fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And you misunderstand me,” he said in a dark tone. She was trembling under his grip. “So long as I live and draw breath, that boy will not touch you.” 

Rage flared in Sena and she knocked his hand sharply away from her face in a move that seemed to shock the both of them. Outside the training yard, they never struck each other, but she was livid. Impossible visions of her and Aemond waking up abed together, husband and wife drifted further out of her grasp. “And what if he already has?” She snapped. She did not know what possessed her. Anger lit up every part of her, it had her not in her right mind. She knew that was a dangerous thing to insinuate, for her and for Aemond, but she could not bring herself to care, so hot was the fire burning inside of her.

Her father seemed to find it amusing, however, his lips drawing into a smirk that made her blood boil. “Prove it,” he said. He laid a hand on her belly, over her skirts. “Get yourself with child. Give me an excuse to wield Dark Sister and take off my nephew’s pretty little head.” He lowered himself, looming over her. “Even your beloved uncle could not save him once he had despoiled my daughter.” 

Sena heard the thud of Ser Vaemond’s disembodied head hitting the flagstones of the throne room again. She saw his dark lifeblood spilling out into a puddle behind her eyelids. “I’d like to see you try,” she bit out, her teeth gritted together, but even she could tell it came out weak.

Daemon laughed his high-pitched, malignant laugh. “You think your beloved Prince, a green boy of twenty who has never seen battle, would stand a chance against me?” Her innards twisted at the thought of it, Aemond meeting Daemon’s steel with his own. “Come now, Sena. I had hoped what everyone says about you wasn’t true. I had hoped there was more to you than that… but it seems you are just some pretty little fool, are you not?” He smoothed down her dark curls and she didn’t realise she was crying with rage until he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. She wanted to tear her own skin off. “Come, my girl. Before supper is cold.”

He left her like that, standing in the middle of the floor and glaring at the spot where he had stood, salt water tracking down her cheeks. She wanted to scream. She wanted to lose control, break his belongings, go after him and cause a scene. But what would it do? What could it possibly accomplish, beyond making him even more resolved to deny her whatever happiness he could? It hadn’t been a shock to her, of course. But she had thought- she had thought once he saw how resolved on this she was, how she would not be budged, he would relent. But she had been the one to budge, not him, and it made her burn with shame. How could she face Aemond now?

She trailed behind the Princess and her father on the way to supper. Rhaenyra kept throwing worried glances over her shoulder at Sena, trying to ascertain why her husband was in such a sour mood, but Sena did not want a scene in the halls of the Red Keep, where all her family could see and hear. It had been degrading enough for her father to treat her like property in private, like livestock in his ownership until he could sell her off for a sufficient price. She would not let him do it before their entire family.

She heard steps to her right as she walked and turned to see Aemond alongside her, his hair smoothly combed and his fine clothing flattering his lean figure. Her stomach dropped. She was still wiping at her eyes, she was not ready for this. He could see in an instant that it was not good news, though.

“What did he say?” He murmured under his breath, his expression impassable.

“That he’d rather feed me to Caraxes than make me your wife,” Sena replied dully, willing herself not to cry.

Aemond gritted his teeth and the line of his shoulders hardened. “We don’t need his permission. My father will give his-”

“Your father is dying,” Sena reminded him. 

He threw up his hands. “A drunken septon, then.” Whatever it took, he was saying. It should have made her heart surge, to see him so impassioned about wedding her, but she knew it wasn’t enough.

“And when my father comes for your head?” She asked.

“Then I’ll kill him.”

Sena scoffed. “Of course,” she said coldly. “That’s the answer to everything in this Gods-damned family. We’d all rather draw our swords and fight to the death than have a fucking honest conversation.”

Aemond cast her a concerned glance, unused to seeing her so low. But they were reaching the King’s private dining room now, and Prince Daemon was standing at the door, watching them. Aemond left her side and went to push past her father, but Daemon caught him by the shoulder. “Careful, boy,” he said in an acrid tone. Aemond pulled free of his grasp and went inside. Sena gave her father a cold look and followed.

Dinner was about as disastrous as she would have expected, but for once it was not her father’s fault, or Princess Rhaenyra’s, or the Queen’s, or even Aegon’s. The King’s presence had them all speaking to each other with civility for the longest stretch of time in Sena’s memory, even if it was by baring his withered face and pleading with them to lay down their animosity for one night. But King Viserys’s middle son remained unmoved, watching the proceedings with a stillness that verged on eerie, his only movement the occasional tick of his jaw. Sena could not stop watching him from across the table, and knew her father was looking between the two of them with a sick sense of self-satisfaction. Rage coiled inside of her.

It was only when the King was removed to return to his bed that the mood truly started to sour. Sena ate what she could, but her stomach was churning with acid, everything tasted like ash and the servants were still bringing in more food, setting a whole roast pig down before Aemond.

To Sena’s right, Luke could not repress a snigger, eyeing his uncle across the table.

And she could see the young boy she had first fallen in love with, all those years ago in the Pit, red eyed and lonely, tormented by his brother and nephews. She watched the man he had grown into make his choice as the last threads of his restraint snapped.

Aemond’s fist crashed to the table, causing his empty plate to jump with a clatter. He raised himself to his feet, his chair giving a high-pitched shriek as it was forced back over the floor. Sena’s grip tightened around her dinner knife as Aemond raised his glass. “Final tribute,” his voice was commanding and powerful when he rose it above his usual rasp. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke and Joffrey."

Aegon, always quick to delight in someone other than himself being the troublemaker, joined his little brother in the toast. Jace and Helaena had stopped dancing, Ser Otto stared down into his lap with a sense of foreboding and the Queen was giving her son a pleading look. “Aemond,” Sena mouthed, but he was not looking at her, his eye locked on her little brother.

“Each of them handsome, wise…” Sena grip on her dinner knife had turned her knuckles white. To her right, Luke was still as a statue. “Strong.”

“Aemond,” the Queen began.

“Come! Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

Sena’s heart lurched as the Queen’s face turned ashen and Aegon drank heartily. Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon had gone still. The smile vanished from Helaena’s face as Jace spoke up. “I dare you to say that again,” he spat.

Aemond had the gall to look affronted as he approached his nephew, wine in hand. “Why? It was only a complement. Do you not think yourself strong?”

All the seven hells seemed to break loose in that moment. Jace cracked Aemond across the jaw with his fist, and Sena lurched to her feet but Aemond barely flinched. “Jace!” Princess Rhaenyra snapped. Before Luke could make it halfway across the room to Aemond, Aegon was up and slamming him down into the dinner table.

“That is enough!” The Queen demanded, but the boys were as untameable as their dragons. Aemond turned his smirk back on his nephew and shoved him to the ground without spilling a drop of wine.

Sena did the only thing she could think of and rushed forward, pulling Aegon off of Luke. “Have you no shame? He’s just a boy,” she snapped.

Aegon turned on her and shook his head in disbelief. “My dear goodsister, when are you going to pick a side?” He hissed.

Sena blanched to hear herself addressed as Aegon’s sister-by-marriage before their entire family. She knew there were few secrets between the brothers, but by the Gods, Aegon had some nerve.

The guards were rushing forward to restrain Jace and Luke now, and Rhaena was even holding back Baela from taking a swing at the Prince. The Queen had flown to Aemond’s side, belligerent. “Why would you say such a thing before these people?’

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother,” Aemond said, addressing the Queen with impudence. He dragged his arm out of her grasp. “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

“Aemond-“ Sena snapped as Jace rounded on the Prince again.

She never thought she’d be glad to see her father wade in.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now,” Rhaenyra addressed her sons and step-daughters sharply, but even as the younger ones begrudgingly listened, Sena stayed put. She was not to be ordered around anymore and she would not have it from Rhaenyra in the same day as her father. She stayed where she was, glaring at Aemond.

Her father looked like he was sizing up his next meal.

The two Princes regarded each other, and Aemond held his ground. 

Sena looked between the two of them and felt a terrible dread.

Aemond was first to break the silence, humming to himself with a note of satisfaction and stalking from the room.

Sena shoved past her father even as he tried to stop her. She followed Aemond down the hall, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “Aemond,” she hissed, and when he did not slow or look back, she snapped “Aemond!”

He swung around on her on the landing of one of the Red Keep’s staircases, their steps and voices echoing around them, and he was livid.

“What the fuck was that?” She snapped at him, drawing close.

“Me?” He asked, bewildered, towering over her. “What do you think you’re doing, Sena? They mock me, they mock our house with the stain of their bastardy, they take my eye, and yet you still defend them?”

She knew they must still be well within the earshot of the rest of the family, but it did not stop him. He remained fixed on her, all of his pent-up rage bubbling to the surface, and he glared at her unblinking. “Don’t make this about our childhood, you started that-“ she said.

“Because I won’t be laughed at at my own dinner table. Did you see the way your beloved brother mocked me?” He said. “Why are you so quick to jump to his aid and not mine?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t need my aid,” she said, taking his hand in hers in an attempt to placate him. “You’re a man grown, you can handle yourself, he’s just a boy and you humiliated him.”

“Oh, I humiliated him? How shocking of me,” he said icily. “I should go and apologise, he made such a good apology to me when he took out my eye.”

Gods, her heart throbbed in her chest. She knew, she knew she had no hope of ever understanding what it was like, how it had changed him and his path. But she so wished he could see that it did not make a single bit of difference to the people who loved him. “Aemond, there’s nothing wrong with you-“

“There is,” he snapped, pulling his hand from her grasp, and she realised it had been the totally wrong thing to say. “I am missing an eye, and your precious Luke took it. He disfigured me and his brother would steal my brother’s throne. Our family’s throne, Visenya.”

Not this, she wanted to beg him, do not start with this. “They are as much Targaryen as we are, Aemond,” she was losing her patience now, her voice rising. “I am half Royce, you are half Hightower, they are half Strong - what difference does it make?”

“They are bastards,” he ground out as she threw up her hands in frustration. “And their mother is a liar and a manipulator.”

Sena scoffed. “Like your brother is some bastion of virtue. Do not make me laugh, Aemond. He humiliates Helaena, terrorises the servants, brings shame on the entire family. He brought you to a whorehouse on your thirteenth name day-“ it slipped out, and Aemond went pale.

“Who told you that?” His jaw had gone slack. He looked far away. “I- it doesn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything, Sena, it was just- you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted.”

That was not the point, she thought. The point was that his brother hurt everyone around him. The point was that Aemond had been brought, young and vulnerable and innocent, to be taken advantage of for his brother’s sick and twisted vision of masculinity. “I’m not jealous, Aemond-“

Again, it was the completely wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as she saw the flicker of rage in his eye.

“No, of course you’re not! Why would you be jealous, thinking about me fucking someone else?” He was furious, looming over her. “Everything in the world seems to matter more to you than I do. Your stepbrothers, your Princess, being a good daughter to your evil bastard of a father, following orders, doing what you’re told. You care more about them than you care about us, the people you grew up with! And for what? Do you truly think Rhaenyra gives a shit about getting you your birthright?”

All of the fury that had been roiling inside of her all day came to the surface in that instant. She laughed coldly. “You think this is about Runestone? You think I’m tearing out my heart and watching my family flay itself for Runestone? You’re standing in front of me questioning how much I love you, how much I have always loved you and you think I care about fucking Runestone!”

“What is it about, Sena? I must admit, I don’t even remember anymore!”

“This is about you hurting the people I care about and still claiming you love me, Aemond.”

He shook his head. “What do you want from a husband, Sena? A man who lets mockery and slights wash over him, who is too weak to defend himself?”

“I want a man who is strong enough to know not every prick at his pride needs answering with force!” She hurled back at him, hating how her eyes swam with unshed tears. It was shameful, to let him reduce her to such a state.

“Pride?” He smirked at her in that menacing way he usually reserved for others. Everyone but her. “You talk of pride and defending oneself, yet I never see you practicing what you preach. How long are you going to cower in your father’s shadow, using him as an excuse for your own inaction and cravenness? The girl who mounted Grey Ghost, the girl I fell in love with - she wouldn’t need her father’s leave to do fucking anything. You’re a coward, Sena.”

Sena went still, in shock at the harshness of his words. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Gods, what had they come to? What was this family, this kingdom turning them in to? She held her hand over her mouth to stop Aemond seeing the way her lip wobbled. He was watching her, and the rage seemed to be dissipating from his features as he heard his own words in his ears.

Aemond’s eye darted over the blank expression on Sena’s face. His own countenance went pale. “I think it better if we do not say anymore tonight,” he said stiffly.

Sena looked past him, tried to still the trembling in her hands. “I think so too.”

She turned to leave him, but stopped when she saw the Queen standing there, staring at her son with wide eyes. Aemond seemed to notice her for the first time too. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Deep shame rolled over Sena.

“They are leaving,” Queen Alicent breathed. “After your… outburst, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are leaving immediately.”

Sena turned back to the Prince. His gaze flicked back to hers. She did not know what to say.

“Sena,” he said, and the regret was clear on his face. He looked like there was a million things he wished to say but he did not know how to even begin to put words to them. “Write me when you get back, so I know you are safe,” he muttered, tone heavy with shame. “Please.”

Sena did not reply, did not even look at him again. She turned, made her way past the Queen without meeting her eye for the fear she might collapse under the shame of what Alicent had just witnessed.

She did not know how long Aemond stood there, watching her retreat. She only knew that by the time she was back in her rooms and Sophey was helping her pack, she felt entirely numb.

The letters to and from Aemond never came, however, as not long after their ship had left its berth in the harbour, the King slipped away in his sleep.

The Targaryens on Dragonstone did not know that for some days, though. It was only when Sena, Baela, Jace and Luke had to rush out of the way in the training yard as Meleys descended that they realised something was dreadfully wrong.

This is it, Sena thought numbly as she listened to the news in the great hall. The King was dead, and Queen Alicent had crowned Aegon in his place before all of King’s Landing. He was not mentioned, but Sena knew in her bones that Aemond had stood there in the Dragonpit and watched it happen. This was what they had all been dreading for years.

The Princess - no, the Queen - went into labour prematurely, and Sena wished she could have been there for her while she bled and screamed. She wished she could have marched down to the hall that her father was turning into his war room and demand he go be with his wife so she was not alone in this. But she did not. She retreated to the yard, whacking away at a training dummy until she could no longer lift her sword.

Maybe Aemond was right. Maybe she was a coward.

The baby had been a girl. The Queen carried her tiny, broken body to the funeral pyre alone.

As her sister burned and her Queen was crowned, Sena bent her knee.

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