Chapter 20

A squire pushed past everyone and hastily ran into Princess Aemma's chamber with the news,

"They've returned. The Princess has been rescued."

The tension filled eyes in the chamber lit up instantly while simultaneously several breath of relief was exhaled at once.

It was Daeron— who later joined them, was actually the first to run out upon hearing that information. To everyone's surprise, Helaena soon followed her brother's trail. Alicent and Lady Lyanne then quickly followed after them. Lastly it was Otto Hightower that walked out, only after instructing Larys Strong to gather the members of the small council.

Now that the Princess has safely returned, he must return to work in order to rectify the deliberate mistakes made by his hot headed grandson. After all there sits a lot of pending explanations to be provided. Earlier it was only House Beesbury seeking answers. Now House Baratheon will certainly join them demanding an explanation and compensation for the insult.

And Otto Hightower fears if the matters aren't handled correctly, soon the situation would get out of his hand's reach.

"My lady please wake up! Wake up my lady!"

Groaning Maris cracked opened her eyes.

Initially she thought morning came strangely early. However as she looked to the window she saw that it was still dark outside, so she asked.

"What hour is this supposed to be?"

"Hour of the wolf my lady." Responded Lyanna hastily.

Confusion graced Maris's face as she wordlessly demanded why she was woken at the darkest hour of the night. And Lyanna responded, as if reading her mistress's mind.

"It is to do with the Prince."

"What has he done now?" For Maris, her heart and face dropped jointly.

"You must come at once my lady, and see for yourself." Was all Lyanna said.

"Very well then, fetch me a robe."

Lyanna quickly returned with a robe, wrapped it around Maris and led her out of her chamber tugging her by arm.

.

.

.

They witnessed the scene from the floor above. Watching, as the newly married Princess Helaena ran alongside her youngest brother, behind them were the Queen and Princess Aemma's nursemaid.

Lord Commander of the King's-guard led the group, carrying the unconscious body of Princess. Behind him, Ser Criston Cole and another nameless knight were hauling Aemond. Both men firmly holding onto each of the Prince's arms like he was a deranged criminal. And behind them were the Cargyll twins, dragging Prince Aegon— who kept screaming,

"Thank me! For I'm the saviour! I'm the hero that saved my little sister. I SAVED HER!"

While Helaena, Daeron and the nursemaid ran straight towards the Princess to check on her. The Queen headed towards the supposed culprit of the situation. The sound of the tight slap she gave her favourite boy, echoed through the courtyard.

And then it was silent. Save for the deep breath that the enraged mother kept exhaling. Looking at her golden boy with only disappointment.

Ultimately the silence was broken by the maddening laughter from the drunken Prince. Who of course found humour in this sinister moment. Then the Lord Hand appeared and his appearance led to the disintegration of the crowd.

Helaena, Daeron and the nursemaid followed the Lord Commander. The twins took Aegon to where Otto Hightower had pointed and finally Criston Cole moved with Aemond towards the direction Otto Hightower was currently pointing.

Maris focused on the Queen and noticed the latter's frown and her attempts at arguing with the Hand. Realization drawn in her that whatever verdict was provided for Aemond, his mother was not in agreement with it. However, ultimately she withdrew followed the path where her daughter has been taken.

Although Maris did form some form of understanding in her mind, but still turned to Lyanna in hopes of receiving a proper elaboration of the situation. After all, it is not a common sighting to watch the Queen raising her hand on her second son.

"Words are twirling around amongst the maids-servants that Prince Aemond…" Lyanna began.

And Maris listened with dropped jaw and eyes gone wide in astonishment. Soon her hands clenched into tight fists and anger that began taking roots deep within was already showing on surface of her face.

It was the kind of anger that Maris has never felt before. Anger that was generated from hurt, broken feelings, pride and humiliation.

Soon as the Princess is placed onto her bed the Grand Maester takes over. Checking the Princess's heartbeat and pulse he confirms that she lives, before proceeding to find out what has occurred.

Only Lady Lyanne was granted permission to assist him. Queen Alicent remained seated at the edge of the bed crying. Her father standing behind her. Princess Helaena and Prince Daeron were occupying the settee. Both of them helplessly watching.

"The Princess was fed milk of the poppy, in amount that shouldn't be consumed by her at such young age." Grand Maester Orwyle told the Queen and the Hand, but everyone present in the chamber could hear him. "The Princess is healthy and strong, she will fight this through and recover soon. Chances are she will sleep for the next few days. She may wake sometime in the morrow but not stay awake for long."

The discussion continued between the Hand, the Queen and the Grand Maester Orwyle regarding steps that should be taken for the Princess's recovery. Daeron and Helaena remained unmoving from their position, helplessly watching their sibling. Feeling a set of eyes on him Daeron looked to his sister and swallowed. The way Helaena was watching him, made him feel all the more uneasy. Like she knew things that he didn't. Like she possessed knowledge which none of them knew how to utilize. But the young Prince pushed down those thoughts and focused on his betrothed, thinking it would be the best course of action for now.

"I don't understand… why… why would Aemond do such a thing?" Daeron mused bitterly.

"Because it is in our nature to want what is freely given to others." Answered Helaena, finally pulling her gaze off of her brother and looking back at her sister.

The Red Keep has four levels of dungeons. The third level has small cells with no windows and solid wooden doors, which leaves the prisoners in darkness. Because of this, they are called the black cells— usually reserved for the most vile and dangerous prisoners, and therefore are not often used. Which is why it came as a surprise when a Prince was thrown in there.

His mother tried to put him in on the first level dungeons but his grandsire remained steadfast in his decision and had him thrown into the black cells.

To think of it, it should not have come as surprise considering the atrocity he had committed. However, what was indeed a true surprise was his first visitor; his betrothed.

Aemond lifted his head slightly, his keen senses alerting him to her presence. He turned, his gaze meeting hers— a mixture of shock, rage and embarrassment in her eyes. Although initially she said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes.

The air between them went stagnant as her eyes remained fixated on him. While he was unable to stop the malevolent smirk that tugged at his lips, seeing shame growing in her eyes as she continues to glower at him.

"Do you not feel the slightest bit of remorse for the shame you have brought upon me and my family?" Maris finally broke the silence. But of course her words passed through his one ear and out of the other.

"I hope you realize that my father will not let such an insult slide so simply."

He smirked. To him, she looked no more than an angry pup barking. Obviously that her threat had little to no effect on him. In what world would a dragon be ever frightened by a stag. That is simply impossible.

"What about your own mother, did you not once think how it would affect her? What about your own little brother?! That was his betrothed you tried to abduct? The shame and the pain it brought on him… someone so selfish as you is no true man."

"Correct you are my lady, I am no man, for I'm a dragon. All Targaryens are another form of dragon. Pity, a stag would never understand that. Nor is it expected of them."

She may not be a dragon, but Maris certainly felt the blood inside her turning to molten lava.

"I cannot fathom— you chose me yourself and yet, you are so bent on hurting me. Why? What have I done to deserve a betrothed like you…" an incomplete man. But that part remained unsaid. She wanted to hold onto to the little dignity she had left and not insult him on his disability.

Although Aemond's expression was inscrutable, but Maris was smart enough to sense the smug satisfaction radiating off of him. And recalling his earlier smirk… She decided to put an end to that smug satisfaction of his. Even if just mere moments ago she held her tongue back, deciding not to mock him on his weakness.

"Here… I brought this for you." Taking out a piece of broken mirror from under her shawl, Maris passed it to her betrothed.

He took it with confusion and equally amount of suspicion, wondering why she was gifting him a broken mirror.

"The Princess is strikingly beautiful. Even if put in a worn-out rag she will still stand out in the crowd. There simply is no way to make her look ugly. Mayhaps she will be mentioned in the history for possessing such unearthly beauty if not for nothing; which is why I understand your heart's desire for her. However, I want you to take a good look at yourself in the mirror and wake up to your reality. Because a girl in possession of such beauty would never accept you for a husband."

He listens to her with a sneer, watching with barely concealed anger as Maris continued with her smirk widening.

"What are you but an incomplete man. Surely Princess Aemma wants a husband with all his body parts intact. Not a man with missing eye… lacking balls. A one-eyed, impaired, cripple—" Aemond jumped to his feet at once and launched himself at his betrothed.

Determined to kill her with his bare hands, the Prince grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the nearest wall, almost smashing her head against it.

Maris's screams. Her defenses have crumbled.

Her cry for help reached outside of the cell. The King's-guards stationed, including Criston Cole (who has been especially assigned to stand on guard till the duration of the Prince's stay) ran inside and found Prince Aemond strangling his betrothed with both his hands.

It was Ser Criston who hastily jumped in and separated the two. Maris was then escorted to her chamber by the other guard. But before leaving she gave her betrothed a look of disgust.

"THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!"

Borros Baratheon, Lord of the Storm's End bellowed in the small council. In rage he picked up the orb and threw it against the nearest wall.

The Queen flinched visibly and upon instinct she gripped the handles of her seat. Just hours ago they were here, dealing with the Beesbury and now hours later the Baratheons have joined them.

"This is an insult! Not only to my daughter but upon me as well."

"Lord Borros," The Hand of the King sighed, trying his best to keep himself composed. After all, it was no everyday occurrence where an illiterate crass like Borros Baratheon so insolently shouted at the crown, in the small council. Endless thanks to Aemond for making such unthinkable, absurd, ludicrousness possible. "…you must understand that the action of Prince Aemond is an insult to the crown, above all else."

The members of the small council shared a look amongst themselves.

"He abducted the Princess— who happens to be his younger brother's betrothed. I assure you, such terrible acts would not go unpunished."

It pleased the Lord of the Storm's End enough for him to take his seat. But not enough to stop his grumbling.

"We have not enforced anything upon him. He was given the free will to choose and he chose Maris—"

Otto Hightower cut him off mid-sentence, stopping his ceaseless goading.

"You have my word Lord Borros, Prince Aemond shall be dealt with justly."

That revelation made Alicent snap her head at her father. As she does not recall them discussing any other form of punishment for Aemond. Despite being the Prince of the realm, the Hand saw it fitting to have him thrown in the black cells. What more could be done to satiate the big appetite of these greedy lords.

"And how shall he be dealt with?" Lord Baratheon leaned closer, trying to appear intimidating. "How am I to be assured that the boy will stop chasing his little sister's tiny cunt."

"Lord Borros! Be careful of how you address my daughter." The Queen warned. But that warning went ignored as soon as the Lord Hand spoke up.

"Prince Aemond shall accompany you and your family to Storms End. There he shall remain for the rest of next two years. Does this sound fair…?"

While Lord of the Storm's End seemed to contemplate the decision, the Queen once again turned to the hand, this time stunned, before she took him to the corner for a very private discussion.

"Have you lost your mind…?! Sending him to Storm's End…? You cannot do that!" Alicent stated firmly, tightly gripping onto her father's hand. "Aemond will never agree to this. The King will never agree!"

Otto Hightower looked at his daughter like she had grown another head. Her naivety was certainly amusing.

"From my understanding, that boy is in no position to agree. Considering everything he has done tonight, this is mercy. And as for the King, how do you suppose he will react upon learning what he did with Aemma…? It will be no different from when Prince Daemon took Princess Rhaenyra to the brothel. The King will have him banished permanently. Which is precisely what I am trying to avoid."

Alicent swallowed nervously, knowing he did present a valid reason.

"Now let me handle things here, while you go be with your daughter. She would need her mother by her side once she awakens." Nodding in agreement the Queen existed the small council.

When Otto Hightower entered the cell he found Aemond in a disheveled state, curled up in a corner. A mirror lay shattered in pieces not too far from him on the floor. His eyepatch was also discarded on the floor, his index finger absently running the length of the scar that ravages the left side of his face.

Aemond noticed his grandsire entering but paid him no heed. His scar had been itching and burning incessantly since that toad-faced bitch riled him up. And he didn't even want to think what this one had in store for him. But he knew sooner than later he'd find out anyway.

"What have you reduced yourself to?"

The silence was finally broken as Otto Hightower stepped closer.

"I must admit, it is beyond my understanding. How do you go from a responsible and honourable Prince to mad hound who in the same night has cut off an innocent man's hand and then goes onto abduct his little sister…?"

The Prince huffed looking down as the anger coiled in his belly. He felt weak, he felt like a fool for not being able to succeed. Therefore the concerning query of his grandsire sounded like a mockery in his ear. It felt as if the old man was taunting him for taking such bold attempts but not succeeding in it.

"Mh… Responsible and honorable..." Aemond tested the word on his tongue, finding it the most bitter sound he had ever uttered.

"What has being responsible and honourable gotten me?" He spat venom, now meeting his grandsire in the eyes, glaring at him.

"I am the one most suited to sit on the throne, yet I will never get it. I am the one who deserves her the most, but first it was a bastard and now a useless craven that is betrothed to her. So why don't you tell me what am I entitled to for being fucking responsible and honourable?"

"Aemond, you must understand this very clearly, Aemma does not return whatever twisted feelings you have harboured within yourself."

"Mh…"

"I was there, it happened right in front of me. She was given the choice by the king… your name was first presented and then your younger brother's. But alas, she chose him. So get this through your thick skull, you nitwit, she will never be yours… Aemma will never be yours!"

A flicker of something unrecognizable flashed in his lone eye just as his jaws clenched hard. Otto could sense that the boy was on the edge, barely hanging by a thread that would snap at any moment. But he was a practical-tactical man, hence he felt no obligation to soothe his young heart's turmoil. Instead decided to let him be aware that his actions came bearing consequences. And now he must face them.

"House Baratheon is greatly upset with you. Lord Borros is not willing to let such insults slide with just apologies."

"What about the Beesbury? Are they still set on having Aemma married into their family?"

"As it was discussed earlier, matters of Aemma is no concern of your—"

"IT IS MY CONCERN!" Aemond roared. "I won't allow for Aemma to be traded in like a commodity. And if you dare try… I swear upon my mother, House Hightower and House Beesbury will be extinct before dawn. So I implore you, to not test me in this matter."

As someone with smartly functioning brain Otto Hightower knows when to stop pushing. Aemond has already shown enough, he does not further need to test whether he would actually burn the two houses down. At this rate with anything is possible by deranged boy. Therefore not worth the risk.

"Aemma won't be given, I assure you. However we are in discussions of possibly making alliance through Aegon's children once they are born."

Aemond sighed in relief and Otto took a deep breath.

"Now back to the main point," The older man began after marching himself closer to the door and away from Aemond. "…in order to rectify your mistake, your mother and I have mutually reached an agreement that you shall be spending the rest of the year and the following next two years at Storms End."

"Do you jest?" Aemond asked in disbelief. Feeling as if the floor beneath him had cracked open and would swallow him whole.

"I apologize if my appearance gives off the impression of a jester. But I guarantee you it is no jest. You will be leaving for Storm's End in a day's time. Make sure to utilize the time there getting to know your betrothed and the Storm's End itself; because one day you will inherit it, so might as well familiarize yourself to it."

Aemond tried to protest but he was too stunned to speak. His head and mind both tirelessly working to process the shocking revelation thrusted upon him. And seizing this distraction Otto quickly made his exit, leaving the boy to bubbling his rage simmering inside.

It was the early hours of dawn the following day when Aemond was released from the cell and was taken to his chamber.

By the time his mother showed up, unannounced, he had already bathed and was in the middle of getting dressed.

Their eyes met. When his initial shock had surpassed, his confusion promptly followed. Alicent cleared her throat gaining the attention of the maid whom she had dismissed shortly after and took over from where it had been left off.

She finished fastening the doublet, trying to avoid as much eye contact as possible. But it could not be avoided for much longer. Their gaze met again and this time Alicent could not evade looking past the red mark on the right side of his face, the symbolism of her strike from the night prior. Aemond had a distant look in his eye as he found himself unable to fully meet his mother's lingering gaze.

In order to avoid further awkwardness between them, Alicent took him by the hand and led him towards the vanity. She sat him down, took a dry linen and rubbed his hair till it was dry. Then she oiled them and combed it straight before tying it up in his signature style.

The entire time they looked each other through the mirror. Finally as she was done, after she put the eyepatch on, he turned. For Alicent it became impossible to resist. She gave into the urges and caressed his face. Gently brushing her fingers over the raging red mark caused by her slap. Closing his eye Aemond leaned into her touch. A tactical way to avoid her pitiful gaze. Although his mother may not have said it, but he knows she has nothing but sympathy to offer him, for the path that has been paved before him.

Aemond hugged his mother and softly murmured "mummy…" into her chest.

And Alicent broke down into bitter sobs not being able to take it anymore.

The following day was the day of Aemond's departure. And Alicent made sure that all of her children with the exception of Aemma were present to bid him farewell.

His mother is the first to hug him and kiss his forehead. A gesture that is equally returned by Aemond. After his mother he turned towards his sister Helaena, who stared at him with vacant eyes. As Aemond proceeded to cup her face she backed away flinching even before his fingers could come into contact with her.

"Do not sew hope, when there is no solution. Regardless of what you'd see, be nought but illusion." Was all she said before returning her focus on the caterpillar in her hand.

"Hel—"

"You should go. Utilize this opportunity to get to know your betrothed better. Try your chance at happiness where it lies with true possibility."

"Sister…"

"Go! Just go…"

And Aemond took that as the sign that it was the end of their conversation. Therefore with a nod of acknowledgement he turned to the person that stood beside her; Daeron. However the two brothers simply ignored each other, after their eyes met briefly just to glare down one another as if they weren't brothers, but foes. Alicent watched their exchange with disappointment then held back her breath when Aemond faced Aegon.

Unlike Helaena who refused his touch and Daeron who refused to speak, Aegon acted differently. He pulled Aemond into a tight hug and whispered into his ear, "Fuck you!"

His singular eye went wide and his face twisted, fury surely etched onto his feature. Growling he was about to respond but their mother quickly intervened.

"Not now Aegon!"

"What have I even done?" He retaliated, putting in an innocent face. But Alicent fixed him with a hard glare making him back away.

With a heavy heart Aemond turned, begrudgingly looking at the wheelhouse that was ready and waiting for him. Sadness which was earlier seeping through him, now began consuming him entirely. The fact that he was not even allowed a glance at Aemma left a void inside him… a gaping hole in his heart that was filling up with fire and blood.

Just as he was about to enter the wheelhouse, a voice deep within his soul told him to stop, the same voice told him to turn. Aemond followed, halting in his steps he did turn.

And there she was… standing by the window of her bedchamber… staring right at him…

…his Aemma.

His love for her roared in his chest, bringing out every possible emotion on his face. His heart and eye both set ablaze. Silent farewells were exchanged through melancholic smiles before she turned away. Aemond wanted the moment to last a little bit longer. But he also knew no amount of little bit would be enough. So he decided to be satisfied with what was given and departed King's Landing as a happy man.

In Dragonstone, the family was having their supper.

Jace and Luke whispering between themselves than actually eating. Rheana was trying to cheer up Joffrey, as the latter was sulking for being left out by his older brothers. Rhaenyra was sitting on one end of the table, rubbing her protruding belly while watching her husband who sat at the opposite end, eating in absent mind.

Suddenly Grand Maester Gerardys walked in with a scroll for the Rogue Prince.

Unraveling the scroll he began reading, ignoring every set of eyes that were trained on him. Soon a brow arched, following which he began to snicker. Emitting a mixture of sharp, sardonic, goading sound.

Rhaenyra watched her husband with a hint of paranoia then asked smiling lightly. "What is so amusing?"

Taking his eyes off of the scroll Daemon responded. "You're not going to believe what that One-eye has done… or in this case tried to pull off."

Everyone at the table had a good laugh as Daemon narrated the contents of the letter in vivid details. Jace laughed the loudest almost mimicking Daemon.

Only Lucerys looked down and began to stuff his mouth with the food in his plate. Truth be told, he felt uncomfortable and deeply concerned for Aemma.

A.N: Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. I know a lot of you were waiting for Daeron to leave for Oldtown, but here Aemond ended up being sent to Storms End.