It's not a metaphor,
this ache

– Catherine Abbey Hodges

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The night had barely retreated, leaving behind a cool grey colouring to the world, when the ground shook with a thunderous roar. It was not an unfamiliar sound, but Aella hadn't heard it in years. She shot up in her cot, wondering if she had misheard, because surely there was no way Morghul would be here. But then the roar sounded again, and she heard her dear Karnax respond with an excited chirp of her own. The already dim lighting in her tent darkened as something passed above her, followed by a whoosh that sent the canvas walls of her tent fluttering aggressively.

She sat in her cot, stunned into complete silence, until finally her mind started up again. Her muscles ached with how fast she pushed them, past every shot of pain her nerves sent up from her still-healing shoulder, past all the exhaustion and deadweight of tired limbs. She pulled a leather vest over her cream cotton shirt, pulling the laces closed as best as possible with how much her fingers shook.

Rhaegon was here. He had come for her. She was almost stunned by how her heart cried a feeble and weak 'at last'. Then the relief turned sour because he hadn't come for her for nigh on three years. For him to be here now... something terrible must've happened. Her heart stuttered to a painful stop in her chest and her breath stuttered. The names of her children flashed before her eyes as if the gods themselves had written them into the air with blood-red ink.

Aemon, Visenys, Viserra, and then perhaps the most bloody of all, Aeron. Her sweet boy, still so young with a body so feeble, so susceptible to infection and disease. She thought she would go half mad before she even made it out of her tent, hair wild and unbound and clothes hastily put on her.

Everywhere, she saw the names of her children. The smoke of campfires swirled and assembled itself into the shape of letters, the rocks and pebbles beneath her feet shifted and rearranged themselves, and even the odd twisting trees had their familiar names carved into the bark of their trunks a thousand times over. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears burning her eyes as she scrambled up the hill to the boulders where Morghul had landed.

She heard Rhaegon before she saw him, his deep melodic voice filtering through the air as he muttered something to Morghul in High Valyrian. Aella didn't stop her approach, even as the black beast's cat-like yellow eyes zeroed in on her and he bared his teeth. He wouldn't hurt her, she felt it in her bones. A hot gust of air pushed Aella's hair back as if she were walking through a storm. Then Morghul was shifting away, ignoring her as if he didn't care for her existence at all. As he turned his head from her, he revealed Rhaegon standing at his side.

Her husband was dressed fully in dark leather and chainmail riding gear, the silver shining against the black. His hair was tousled from the wind, which might've given him the look of a carefree boy had his jaw not been so tight. His gloved hand was pressed tight to Morghul's side, rubbing the jagged, rough scales there. When his eyes fell upon her, there was an unmistakable wave of relief that washed over him. The furrow between his brows deepened as his eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled shakily. His jaw went slack, and when he opened his eyes again, she swore he aged a dozen years.

"Tell me now," she breathed, standing not ten feet from him with her arms hung by her sides like dead weight. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she had to pause to swallow it down before she dared utter another word. "Do not try to soften the blow."

"What?" Rhaegon asked, brows jerking towards each other in another deep furrow. She paused, studying his face for what felt like an age. The confusion he outwardly showed chipped away at her uncertainty, feeding the smallest grain of hope remaining in her until it was a little globe of light warming her insides. Still, she didn't allow herself to feel any of it, pretending it was never there in the first place.

"Aeron, he's dead, isn't he? Or soon to be." It was her fate to suffer such tragedies. She'd already made her peace with it, no matter how much it hurt. When he didn't answer, the hole in her chest cracked open a little more. "Or is it one of the others?" She didn't know which one was a more terrifying concept. Losing the child she did not know yet, but wanted to, or one of the children she did know, and never truly expected to lose. She imagined Aemon's face going a sickly sort of pale as his corpse cooled, Visenys' eyes sinking in, and Viserra's tiny body splayed in front of the Silent Sisters.

Rhaegon breathed out harshly. "They're all fine, Aella. Nothing has happened to them," he said, and despite the sincerity in his voice, she didn't want to believe a word he said. She shook her head, chasing away the sting of tears. He took a step forward, his hand falling down upon one of her shoulders. "Why would you think that?"

She shook her head, willing her heartbeat to calm at least a little. "Why else would you come here?" The crack in her voice made her cringe.

"Is it so difficult to believe that I might be here for you?" She almost let her answer slip out, but bit down harshly on the inside of her cheek instead. She'd never put the feeling into words, but she knew she wasn't worthy of his affection or his worry. Her sins towards him were carved too deep into her skin, even if he did not recognize them. When she didn't answer, Rhaegon blew out a shaking breath through his nose and pulled her in by the shoulder.

She didn't fight the sudden sickening sense of vertigo she felt when she rested her head upon his chest and his arms tightened around her. It dissipated into overwhelming relief, and truly it was a miracle she hadn't begun to weep right then and there. Inhaling deeply, she took in the scent of him – dragon from his long ride there, and the faint smell of the citrus bath salts he always used.

Rhaegon's fingers ran through her slightly tangled hair as he repeated over and over again, "I'm here for you." The words echoed in her mind until they were forever engraved

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"Did Viserys send you?" Daemon's words were a veiled dagger, prodding at his ribs and cutting his skin. Rhaegon stared at him from across a long table. A map of the Stepstones stretched between them, a thousand miles separating them instead of a few feet. He'd never really gotten along with his brother, not even when they worked together on the council or when he ate supper with him and his family. There'd always been a challenge, not by his own making. He was forced to participate in it regardless, oftentimes left to defend himself against Daemon's double-edged jabs that he never knew if he should take seriously.

Even now, he had to deal with it, except this time the veil of mystique was so thin it was barely there, and he swore Daemon's eyes narrowed on him like snake eyes. He didn't know why, after all these years, his brother seemed to dislike him. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to find out. He'd understood in the beginning, when the marriage between him and Aella was still new and the bruises on his face had barely faded in appearance, if not in memory. But he had stood beside Daemon against the King's forces at Dragonstone and had defended him at countless meetings besides, even if he hadn't really deserved it sometimes.

"I'm here for my wife," he replied, keeping his voice levelled even as it threatened to spike. Daemon's accusatory tone was borderline cruel, but Rhaegon refused to rise to the bait.

Daemon wasted no time before his next answer. "You mean you will command her to leave?" Something cold raced over Rhaegon's spine, and he swore he'd never felt such deep indignation before. Aella gasped in alarm beside him, wrapping a hand around his forearm as if to hold him back or push him away from Daemon, he wasn't entirely sure. His brother's eyes instantly fell to the point of contact between them, and something burned in those lilac eyes of his.

"Daemon!"

"When have I ever commanded her to do anything?" Rhaegon scoffed, digging his nails so hard into the skin of his palms that he was sure he'd bleed. Daemon looked away, as if ashamed, but it only lasted a moment before the coldness was back and he was mocking him with a raised brow. "When have I ever exuded any sort of power over her? Everything Aella does is of her own volition." Rhaegon never denied her anything, never even laid in bed beside her without her vocal approval, let alone force her to lay with him. He didn't say it out loud, but Aella's grip tightened around him as if she were acknowledging it. "Do you think me so cruel as to do otherwise, brother?"

It was a genuine question and Daemon seemed to realise it because his face fell and panic washed over his face, eliminating all the hard and brutal lines of him. Rhaegon almost forgot how soft and welcoming his brother's features could be.

"No, that's not what I-"

"Please, do not argue." Aella butted in before Daemon could finish. Rhaegon looked at her, and he was suddenly struck with how beautiful she was, even with her hair tangled in some places and the wrinkles that began to form around her eyes and mouth. His wife had always been stunning, enchanting if he was being honest, but he was never allowed to appreciate it properly. He didn't think he ever would be. "Daemon, I am glad he is here. You need not jump to my defence."

"Mayhaps not, but the question does still stand," Lord Corlys voiced, leaning back in his rickety chair. He'd stayed silent throughout the whole debacle, only flicking his eyes between the two sides of the table. "Was it His Grace, the King, who sent you?"

Rhaegon shook his head. "As I said. I am here to protect my wife." Corlys scrunched up his brows.

"Do you believe her to be unsafe?" he asked. "I assure you, my men are perfectly capable of protecting her, and I don't know any man who would be able to reach her while on dragonback."

"It doesn't matter if your men are capable or not. Harm will befall her anyway." He swallowed thickly to chase away the sudden dryness of his throat. "I saw it." Aella's hold on him loosened as she stepped back. A deep frown painted Daemon's face sharply.

"What do you mean you saw it?" His eyes searched Rhaegon's face for an answer, but he did not give him one. It had taken everything to merely admit to himself that he might have had a vision and not just a nightmare, let alone tell it to Viserys. His eldest brother was much more understanding when it came to such things. A deep fascination with Valyria and its old magic was rooted deep inside of him since he was old enough to read. Daemon was not like that, and even if he was perhaps the very last scion of Valyria in terms of keeping traditions, Rhaegon doubted he would be believed anyway.

Aella flinched, raising a hand to her shoulder. Rhaegon was turning towards her before he could stop himself at all, grabbing her wrist and tugging it away. "You're already hurt?" he breathed, focusing on the spot where her fingers lay moments before. It was covered by a look cream shirt and a leather vest, but he swore he could practically see through it and at whatever injury marred her skin beneath it.

"It's nothing." She shook her head, grasping his hand in her own until he let go of her wrist, then squeezing it as if to comfort him when she was the one who was hurt. "A stray arrow, nothing more."

"A stray arrow is exactly the thing that will get you killed," he said, grinding his teeth together as he roved through his memories. His dream didn't show what had cut her open, but he remembered all too vividly how Aella lay splayed out on grey sand, clutching her abdomen as blood gushed between her fingers. Of course, she wore a gown in his dream, the only clothing he'd ever seen on her besides her riding leathers, not the apparel she adorned now, and certainly no armour she undoubtedly wore. Still, an arrow had managed to pierce through it, and if it could do it once, it could do it again. "I am taking you home. You need to see a proper healer and you need to rest."

Daemon shook his head. "You can't do that," he argued, "If she leaves now and takes her dragon with her, the men's morale will plummet. It's already low with the amount of casualties we've taken recently." Rhaegon barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

"Do you think I care about your petty war, Daemon? Do not pretend as if you're here to help House Velaryon." He waved a hand in dismissal. "You will find a way to handle it if this displeases you so."

With a scoff, Daemon turned to look at Rhaegon's wife. "Aella," he said, a final statement. His gaze nailed her in her spot, and Rhaegon practically saw it as her muscles tightened and strained as she looked back at him. Her breath shuddered out of her, and Rhaegon swore her lower lip quivered as if suppressing a cry.

He stepped closer to her, squeezing her hand like she'd done to him moments before. Her eyes broke away from his brother and landed on him. He drowned in the icy blue waters of irises. Finally, something shifted in her demeanour and she looked back at Daemon. When she spoke next, there was no room for argument.

"I want to go home." A muscle in Daemon's jaw feathered, but he didn't say anything, only leaned back in defeat. "I'm sorry, Corlys." The man in question shook his head, smiling slightly as if nothing in the world could bother him.

"I am happy you can leave, sister," he said. "Go back to your children." Aella returned the smile with a nod, wrapping her arms around Rhaegon's left one. Rhaegon released a sigh of relief. He did it, he convinced her to go. She would be safe.

The nightmare would not become a reality.

A/N

It's been over a month since I last posted I AM SO SORRY

The way that most of Aella's (current) suffering is by her own doing but she makes these mistakes because she doesn't know how else to deal with anything.

Daemon is probably even more obsessed with Valyria and its traditions/magic than Viserys but hides it more so Rhaegon fully doesn't think Daemon would trust him if he ever admitted to maybe being a dreamer. Meanwhile, Daemon would freak out (in a good way). But yeah he definitely suspects something because my boy isn't stupid.

FINALLY finished writing for episode 3! The next chap is gonna contain Aella's reunion with her kiddos and then a small time jump till Daemon comes back to King's Landing.