TW: Choking, mention of domestic violence.

Viewer discretion advised.

The day of Prince Aegons funeral arrived, and the Keep buzzed with a somber aura that hung over the castle like a heavy veil. The courtiers, attendants, and servants all dressed in dark colors, their expressions solemn as they prepared to pay their respects to the young prince.

Maegor, who had been somewhat subdued in the days following his heated encounter with Jaehaera, prepared himself for the ceremony. He donned a regal, dark ensemble, his expression a mask of stoic control.

Jaehaera stood pretty much alone among the mourners, not joining any particular bubble. The recent nights events weighed heavily on her. Her outfit was black and not really remarkable, however she wore gloves, possibly to hide the bruises on her wrists and hands.

Maegor eventually approached Jaehaera, taking in her attire and the choice to wear gloves, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. His eyes narrowed slightly, his mind once again drawn back to the memory of her defiance the previous night. "You choose to conceal your hands, my dear wife," he remarked, his voice low and laced with a hint of challenge. "Is there a reason for this... modest choice in wardrobe?

"No, it's just a fashion choice." Jaehaera lied right through her teeth. She didn't want anyone to know about this.

Maegor's gaze scrutinized Jaehaera in response, his instincts telling him there was more to her choice than mere fashion. "A fashion choice, you say." He raised an eyebrow, his voice sharp and tinged with suspicion. "How peculiar, considering your affinity for more extravagant attire. Pray tell, why this sudden change?"

"Erm.." Jaehaera struggled. "Convenience.." She lied again.

The king's eyes narrowed at his queens evasiveness. He took a step closer to her, his height and presence imposing. "Convenience, you say," he repeated, his voice a low, ominous purr. "And why is it suddenly more convenient for you to wear gloves, my dear wife, than to show the world the beauty of your hands?"

Jaehaera quickly grew angry at this silly remark. "You know exactly why."

Maegor's eyes darkened at her tone, his jaw clenching. "Ah, so it is not convenience but the bruises upon your wrists that you seek to conceal," he said, his voice filled with a simmering fury. "The marks left by my own hands upon your flesh. Is that what you wish to hide?"

"Yes. No one needs to know about your hiccup." She explained gently.

Maegor's tone became low and threatening. "A 'hiccup'? Is that what you call it? My own hand... placed upon my wife's wrists in a moment of anger. A mark that reveals a... weakness that should not exist." His gaze fixed upon her wrists, his expression unreadable. "No," he muttered, his voice a rough whisper. "No one shall know of this. It is... a humiliation... shameful... and yet..."

"I don't think you would lay a hand on me again, so yes, a hiccup." She said, focusing her gaze on the funeral pyre.

Maegor's eyes softened slightly as he studied her expression, a flicker of remorse crossing his face. He reached out gently, taking her gloved hand in his own. "No, I... should not have laid a hand on you in the first place," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "It was a moment of weakness... a mistake. I have never treated you thus before, and I promise you, it shall not happen again."

"You're lucky I believe you." Jaehaera smiled ever so slightly.

Maegor's expression softened further at her smile, a warmth spreading through him that he had not expected. He gently squeezed her hand, his rough thumb brushing over her fingers tenderly. "Your forgiveness is a gift, my dear wife," he murmured, his voice rough yet filled with a newfound sense of humility.

"You're welcome, all is forgiven.." Jaehaera sighed.

Maegor's heart stirred in his chest, touched by her forgiveness. He lifted her hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss upon her knuckles through the material of the glove. "I shall make it up to you," he murmured, his eyes fixed on her. "I vow to be the husband you deserve."

"I know, I believe you.. although you don't love me.." Jaehaera sighed, finally talking about the event that felt like the pink elephant in the corner.

Maegor's eyes darkened as she spoke, the truth in her words hitting him like a dagger to the heart. He let out a deep sigh, his grip on her hand tightening. "Love," he muttered, disdain lacing his voice. "A weakness, a chink in one's armour. I cannot allow myself to love. Love breeds vulnerability and exposes one to pain." He paused, his eyes locking with hers, a mix of regret and determination swirling within them.

"I know you never wanted to marry me, but our sister Rhaelle, I know you still love her and that I am perhaps not the wife you wished for yourself." She said dryly, although her eyes betrayed her stonicism.

Maegor's expression immediately darkened even more at the mention of Rhaelle's name, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and longing. "Rhaelle... she was everything to me," he muttered, his voice filled with a deep, raw emotion. "Everything. Her love... her laughter... her fire. When she was taken from me, a part of my heart shattered, a void left behind that nothing could fill." His gaze flicked to Jaehaera, his eyes tinged with a hint of regret. "You... are not her," he said softly, a whisper laden with sorrow.

"I know." She said in a stonic voice, a tear running down her cheeks.

His gaze lingered upon Jaehaera and her teary cheek, his heart aching with the memories of Rhaelle. He had loved her with a passion that had consumed him, a flame that burned as brightly as the one upon Balerion. "It is not fair to you," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "You deserve a husband who can love you fiercely, without reservations or shadows from the past. But..." He trailed off, unable to find the words to finish the sentence.

"A dead girl will always have my husbands love." Jaehaera muttered as she listened to him.

Maegor's expression tightened as she mentioned his love for the dead Rhaelle. "You don't understand," he muttered, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice. "She was everything to me, the other half of my soul. How can I simply turn off such a deep, consuming affection? I tried. I tried to distance myself, to forget her memory, but..." He trailed off, his voice quivering with the raw emotion that still haunted him.

Jaehaera finally snapped, the bitterness of the last 19 years finally catching up with her.

"She died over 15 years ago, get over it. Your sister is a corpse and I am a living girl and you love her more than me."

Maegor's eyes flashed with anger as Jaehaera's words struck a nerve. "And what do you suggest I do?" he thundered, his voice laced with bitterness. "Forget her? Wipe her from my memory? Replace her with you? Love is not a switch that can be turned on and off at will. It is a feeling that lingers, a bond that endures. I cannot simply discard my love for Rhaelle as if it were a mere trinket. She was my everything, my other half."

She quickly continued her rage rant.

"I don't want to live in her shadow anymore, Maegor. I've let you name our firstborn after that glorified whore, I tried to act like her, dress like her, all to make you happy, but somehow none of it matters to you."

A wave of fury washed over Maegor as he listened to Jaehaera's scathing words, his eyes burning with a mixture of hurt and indignation. "How dare you speak of my beloved Rhaelle in such a manner," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "She was the light of my life, the very breath in my lungs. You cannot replace her, nor can you erase her memory. She lives on in my heart, a flame that shall never burn out."

Jaehaera snapped again, she was by now visibly heartbroken, clinging onto that last bit of hope she had to regain her husbands love, although, deep down, she knew his heart was never hers to keep in the first place.

"No Maegor, SHE IS DEAD. I AM YOUR WIFE, SHE IS A CORPSE IN THE CRYPTS OF THE EYRIE."

Maegor's eyes darkened at her outburst, his anger and frustration boiling over. "But can you fill the void she left behind?" he thundered, his voice filled with an anguished vulnerability.

"Can you make me laugh like she did? Can you make my heart race like a madman at the mere mention of your name? NO. You cannot. And you shall never, because Rhaelle was more than a wife to me." His voice trailed off, his expression a mixture of pain and defiance.

"THEN WHY DID YOU MARRY ME?!" She yelled at him.

"Why didn't you marry her then? Do you get hard from torturing me? Is that why you hit me yesterday? Because i refuse to be a second Rhaelle? Is that it? You're even more horrible than I thought." Jaehaera gave a cold, unamused laugh.

Maegor's jaw tightened at her accusations, his eyes narrowing into slits as his anger grew. "Marriage is not merely for love," he growled, his voice tinged with a hint of venom.

"It is for political alliances, for the strengthening of our bloodline. Rhaelle was promised to the Lord of the Vale, not to me." His face showed a flicker of pain as he uttered those words, the memory still a fresh wound in his heart. "I struck you because you defied me, not because of her. Do not twist my actions to fit your false narrative."

"You still struck me, honorable men do not strike their wives." She spat, before going inside the Red keep again, as the funeral had finally concluded.

Maegor's expression darkened further at her defiant words, he quickly followed her. "Honorable men do what is necessary, my dear wife," he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You sought to defy my authority, to challenge my rule. Striking you was a means to show you the consequences of crossing your king." He straightened, his eyes locking onto hers with a mix of anger and determination. "You're lucky that it was I who struck you, and not some other brute."

"Oh, now I should be glad you hit me?" Jaehaera gave a dry laugh.

"What's next? Will you beat me, rape me or even torture me?"

Maegor's eyes flared with a dangerous fire at her accusations, his anger boiling over. "Do not forget your place, wife," he hissed, his fists clenching at his sides. "I am your king, not some lowly dog you can mock and defy. I have been merciful thus far, but do not mistake my restraint for weakness."

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "Be careful with your words, woman. I hold the power to make your life a living hell, should I choose to."

"So you admit that you would commit all those acts?" She chuckled.

His gaze darkened, his expression turning cold and calculating. "I admit nothing, my dear," he said, his voice laced with venom.

"But should you push me too far, and test the limits of my patience, who knows what measures I might be willing to take." He stepped closer to her, his eyes flickering with a dangerous glint.

"Do not challenge me, Jaehaera. I hold your life in the palm of my hand, and it would be a shame if something were to happen to our children due to your defiance."

"Leave the children out of this or I will not hesitate to snap your limbs in two and make sure they never heal properly." Jaehaera threatened Maegor with no fear.

"Touch my children and you will die, screaming."

Maegor's eyes widened at her threat, a mix of surprise and anger washing over him. He had never seen this side of Jaehaera before, the fierce determination and protectiveness she displayed for their children.

He hesitated for a moment, his expression flickering between defiance and a hint of worry. "You threaten your king, my dear?" He muttered, his voice a low growl. "How brazen of you. But I shall overlook your insolence, for now."

"You threatened my children first." She shrugged dismissively, the argument entertained her.

"Your children are MINE," Maegor barked, his voice echoing through the room. He stepped closer to Jaehaera, the tension in the air palpable as he seethed with a mix of anger and possessiveness.

His eyes burned with a fierce intensity as he spoke. "You bear MY children, and thus they bear my blood. Do not forget that. They are heirs to the Iron Throne, not mere pawns for you to wield against me."

Just in that heated moment, little 5 year old Visenya walked in, holding a plush dragon and having tears in her small eyes, who shone like soft purple grapes in the candle light.

Maegor's expression immediately softened upon hearing the soft, hiccuping sobs of his little girl.

He gently scooped her up into his arms and held her close, cradling her against his chest. "What is it, my little dragon?" he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and concern. "Why are you crying?"

"I heard you arguing, I am scared." She cried, wiping her tears with her small hands.

Maegor's heart ached at the sight of his daughter in tears, and he held her closer to his chest, gently stroking her soft hair. "Ssh, ssh, my little dragon," he whispered soothingly.

"There is no need to be scared. Papa and Mama were just having a disagreement, that's all. We love you very much, and nothing will ever change that."

Visenya eventually nodded, falling asleep in her fathers comforting arms.

Maegor then quickly went to her chamber and gently laid his sleeping daughter down in her bed, tucking her in snugly.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, his expression filled with tender affection. As he watched her sleep, his thoughts turned to Jaehaera, and the strained relationship between them.

For a while, he remained by Visenya's side, watching over her as she slept peacefully. But then, he decided that it was time to confront Jaehaera.

As he made his way to her chambers, his steps were slow and calculated, his expression a mixture of anger and determination. Once he reached her door, he knocked firmly and waited for her response.

Jaehaera, whom was by now deeply tangled in her thoughts, was caught off guard by the knock, who could it be?

"Come in." She quickly responded.

Maegor pushed open the door and stepped inside, locking the door behind him. His eyes fixed upon Jaehaera.

"We have unfinished business," he said gruffly, his voice filled with a simmering anger. "I will not tolerate such defiance from you again, wife."

Jaehaera quickly argued back with an amused smile. "I strongly expressed my opinion, I didn't defy you."

"Your opinion holds no sway upon the decisions I make," he spat, his expression dark with fury. He stepped closer to her, his eyes blazing with a dangerous determination. "You dare speak to me as if we are equals in this marriage. But we are not. And never shall we be."

"I will continue to be my authentic self, you won't stop me, your violence won't stop me." Jaehaera leaned back in her seat. "Honey, you can't silence me."

Maegor's eyes flared with anger at her defiant words. He gripped the arms of her chair, looming over her, his body taut with tension. "Authentic self?" he hissed, his voice laced with bitterness.

"Do you think I care about your so-called authenticity? You belong to me, wife. Your place is beside me, not challenging me." He reached out, gripping her chin firmly, his fingers digging into her skin. "Do not test me, my dear."

"I am not challenging you, you chose to listen to my opinions." She looked up at him with a smirk.

Maegor's grip tightened on her chin, his eyes dark with a primal rage. "Do not play games with me, woman," he spat, his voice low and dangerous. "I did not choose to hear your opinions, nor am I obliged to listen to them. You are my wife, and you shall obey me without question."

He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, his breath hot on her skin. "Your defiance is unacceptable, and I will not tolerate it. Remember who you are, Jaehaera."

"If it annoys you, just don't listen to me." She leaned forward, their faces were now mere inches apart.

The tension was high.

"Who do you think I am, a fool to ignore my own wife's words?" Maegor hissed, his voice laced with frustration and anger. He tightened his grip on her chin, his fingers digging into her flesh with a possessiveness that borders on feral.

"Your opinions matter to me just as much as the howling of the wind outside this chamber. Your words will not be dismissed or cast aside as if they hold no significance." He leaned even closer, his breath hot on her skin as his gaze locked with hers. "You are mine, Jaehaera. Don't you forget that."

"So my opinions do matter, what an interesting turn of events." Jaehaera chuckled, she enjoyed this little back and forth way too much.

"Do not twist my words, Jae." Maegor's voice grew harsher, a menacing growl that echoed through the room. He released her chin, his hand hovering over her neck, his fingers twitching as if itching to clench around her throat.

"Your opinions matter to me, but not in the way you seem to believe. They matter because I need to know your thoughts, to keep you in check and ensure you do not become a threat to my rule and do not for a moment think otherwise."

"Why is your hand doing that.." Jaehaera chuckled, secretly frightened.

Maegor's eyes flickered down to his own hand, hovering so close to Jaehaera's neck. He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of indecision flashing across his face as he internally debated with himself.

With a sudden, sharp movement, he grasped her throat, his fingers wrapping around it with an almost possessive grip.

Jaehaera almost immediately started to panic. "W-what.. LET ME GO YOU FREAK!"

As his fingers tightened around her throat, Maegor felt an odd mix of satisfaction and power surge through him. Her eyes widened with panic and fear, the realisation of his true nature dawning upon her.

His voice was low and husky as he spoke. "Fear me, wife."

Jaehaera didn't say anything, however, she was crying.

Maegor's grip on her throat remained firm, his eyes dark with a primal desire to dominate and control. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her breath as she struggled to catch her breath.

This was a moment of vulnerability for her, and he knew it.

"Do you see now, my dear, who truly holds the power here? You are mine to command, to mould, to conquer."

"I see that you can't control yourself from abusing your wife." She spat through teary eyes.

Maegor's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of anger and frustration. He tightened his grip on her throat, his fingers digging into her skin, before releasing her abruptly.

With a swift, almost violent motion, he shoved her away, his voice dripping with a dangerous warning.

"Do not tempt my patience, woman," he snarled. "I am not above using force to maintain order and discipline. Do you understand me?"

Without another word, Jaehaera quickly fled that room, severely psychologically distressed.

As Jaehaera fled the room, Maegor watched her go, conflicted feelings swirling within him. A part of him couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and power, knowing he had asserted his dominance over her.

But at the same time, a small flicker of regret and shame gnawed at him, hidden deep within his heart. The line between discipline and abuse was a thin one, and Maegor was beginning to question whether he had crossed it.

As Jaehaera made her way back to her chambers, tears streamed down her cheeks, feeling the weight of Maegor's cruel treatment.

With trembling hands, she reached under her pillow and pulled out a slender dagger, its blade gleaming in the candlelight. She clutched it tightly, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and determination. In that moment, she knew that she couldn't continue living in fear and submission.

And so, as she sat on the edge of her bed, the dagger remained clenched in her hand, a silent declaration of her resolve to fight back against her husband's abuse.

As the night wore on, Maegor tossed and turned in his own chambers, unable to find peace. His mind was plagued with conflicted thoughts - the memory of Jaehaera's wide, tear-filled eyes as he grasped her throat, the weight of his actions sinking in. As the hours dragged on, he couldn't shake the unease that settled over him.

Eventually, he threw off his blankets and dressed himself. He had to see her.

Jaehaera had just fallen asleep, her dreams plagued by the very argument. He had choked her, hit her the day before.. this was no hiccup, she was by now sure of that. But who could guarantee her safety?

As Maegor stepped into Jaehaera's chambers, the dim candlelight cast flickering shadows across the room. His eyes fell upon her sleeping form, and he approached silently, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet.

He stood over her, watching her sleep for a moment, a mixture of guilt and concern etched on his face. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face, his touch infinitely tender in this moment.

She began to stir, roused from her restless slumber by the gentle caress on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and as her vision adjusted to the dim light, she could make out the silhouette of her husband standing over her.

The sight of him sent a jolt of fear through her body, and she recoiled slightly, her grip tightening on the dagger under her pillow.

Maegor drew in a sharp breath as Jaehaera recoiled from him, her body tense and her eyes full of fear. He saw the flicker of a dagger beneath her pillow, a stark reminder of the distance between them. He had crossed a line, and there was no going back.

"Jaehaera" he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "I... I never meant... I never meant to hurt you."

"Did you now?" The queen tilted her head.

His expression hardened, a flicker of defiance in his eyes as he met her gaze. "You defy me, push me to my limits, and then accuse me of cruelty when I respond in kind?" he retorted, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and frustration.

"Do not think for a moment that you have no hand in the turmoil that exists between us. Your actions provoke me, and you cannot expect me to remain passive in response. I will not be humiliated or disrespected by my own wife."

"You hit me yesterday, you choked me today, how is that kindness? Should I be thankful that you didn't murder me?" She gave a cold, unamused laugh.

Maegor's face twisted with a mixture of shame and defensiveness at her stark rebuttal. He couldn't deny her words, but he also couldn't bring himself to fully acknowledge his own actions. "You.. you provoke my anger, wife," he gritted out, his voice laced with frustration.

"You challenge me, question me, defy me... and yet you expect me to remain steadfast in my restraint? You know well that I am no saint, yet you push and push, testing the limits of my patience."

"And that's an excuse to beat me? Whatever makes you sleep at night." Jaehaera laughed again.

Maegor's patience reached its limit as he stared at Jaehaera, frustration and anger boiling over inside him.

"You dare to taunt me?" he hissed, his voice growing more menacing. "You challenge me to my face and invite violence, all the while knowing my impulsive nature. You push me to the very edge, and then act as if you're an innocent victim."

As the tension in the room swelled, Maegor reached forward and snatched the dagger from her hand with a sharp movement.

Jaehaera panicked im return, being disarmed in this situation was not the best condition.

"Ah, what do we have here?" Maegor smirked, his anger morphing into a sinister satisfaction as he held the dagger in his hand. "A blade under your pillow, my dear wife? How intriguing. Were you plotting to use it against me, perhaps?"

"Yes. Quite frankly, my dear, I no longer trust you around me or any other woman. So I needed something to defend myself with." She admitted in a strained, raw voice.

Maegor's eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and irritation at her, in his eyes, defiant admission. "So," he said slowly, a wicked smile playing at the corner of his lips. "You felt the need to arm yourself against me, your own husband. How interesting."

He chuckled dryly, twirling the dagger in his hand. "It seems, my dear, that you have lost all trust and faith in me. Such a pity,"

"What else was I supposed to do? Flee? No. I am not abandoning my children." Jaehaera spat.

Maegor's expression darkened as Jaehaera spoke of their children, a flicker of softness in his eyes that contradicted his otherwise menacing demeanor. "Your concern for our children is admirable," he stated, his voice laced with a mix of pride and resolve.

"But understand this, wife: your actions have crossed a line. I cannot tolerate defiance or treachery. If you wish to protect our children, you must submit to me completely. You will obey my every command, without question or hesitation. Is that understood?"

"No." She replied dryly. "You will not strip me of my autonomy."

Maegor's face hardened as he listened to Jaehaera's defiant refusal. Her refusal stoked the fire of his anger, fueling his need to assert his control. "You speak of autonomy," he hissed, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge. "But you forget your place! You are my wife, and you will obey me. This is not about stripping your autonomy; it is about ensuring your loyalty and maintaining order within our household. Do you wish to defy me then?'

"I am loyal to you." Jaehaera fired back. "I just value my own opinions aswell, those two things can coexist."

Maegor clenched his fists, struggling to contain his mounting frustration with her defiant stance. "Loyalty cannot coexist with defiance" he stated firmly, his gaze locked upon her.

"Your opinions are secondary to mine, your loyalty and obedience must be absolute. To challenge me is to undermine my authority and sow chaos within this household. If you cannot understand that, then I will have no choice but to enforce your compliance."

With a swift, fluid gesture, he threw the dagger across the room, the blade embedding itself into the wooden door with a resounding thunk.

Jaehaera almost instinctively jumped to the side, she was very frightened again.

"I'm sorry for disobeying you, I swear it will never happen again." She suddenly burst into tears, all the stress send her into a mental breakdown.

Maegor's expression softened slightly as tears streamed down Jaehaera's face, the sight a painful reminder of the toll his actions had taken on her. He hesitated for a moment, wrestling with the conflicting emotions within him.

"Your tears mean nothing to me," he scoffed, his voice a mix of coldness and detachment. Yet even as he spoke, he couldn't ignore the pain he saw in her eyes, nor the knowledge that he held some measure of culpability for her anguish.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She kept repeating.

As Jaehaera continued to sob, Maegor felt a mix of conflicted emotions. The sight of her tears stirred a sense of guilt within him, but he stubbornly refused to show any sign of weakness.

"Enough," he barked, his voice a sharp command. "Stop your weeping and compose yourself, woman." He drew in a deep breath, attempting to keep his frustration in check.

Sooner than late, Visenya showed up in the room again. "Mommy, why are you crying?" She asked.

Her innocent question echoed through the air, drawing Maegor's attention away from Jaehaera's tears.

He straightened himself up, fixing his cold, imperious gaze upon his youngest daughter. He gritted his teeth before hissing, "Leave us, Visenya. This is not a matter for you to concern yourself with."

The aggressive hiss of Maegors voice caused the famously sensitive Visenya to burst into tears aswell.

As Visenya's tears joined Jaehaera's, Maegor's patience snapped entirely. The sound of crying filled the room, driving his frayed nerves even further.

"Enough!" he bellowed, his voice a thundering command that filled the chamber with its authority. "Cease your tears, both of you. This weakness and emotional display will not be tolerated."

Soon enough, princess Rhaella showed up aswell, startled by the commotion.

"What is going on? Mother, why are you crying?? You too Visenya??"