ACT II — CHAPTER VI
Mᴏʀᴇ Tʜᴀɴ Aɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

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Aemond Targaryen had always been ambitious.

After all, he had claimed Vhagar, the oldest and largest dragon in the world, before he had seen nine years. However, since losing his eye, along with his dearest friend, his ambitions had become more silent. He studied on his own, to the point where he could rival his own father in Valyrian history. He never boasted once he was able to beat Aegon in combat. Aemond became a formidable force around the Red Keep, and part of him liked that people feared him.

He had become the kind of person who was able to rise quickly but would silently relish in his victory.

With his silence came an ability to understand those around him. He watched others, picking up on their tells and signs. Aemond took pride in being two steps ahead of others, being able to anticipate their moves before they made them.

So, it was safe to say that when Myra Velaryon reentered his world, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

He had long before decided that he held no resentment towards Myra, but that was not without a lack of trying. He tried to hate her for years, for her stubborn loyalty to her brothers, knowing full well what they are. He wanted to hate her for bringing that blade to the fight.

But he couldn't, because her stubborn loyalty extended to him as well. Even though she had not defended him on Driftmark, she had every time her brothers or Aegon were mean to him. And how could he blame her for bringing the blade? She couldn't have known it was just him. She wasn't the one who dealt the blow.

Every time news of Myra came to the Red Keep, Aemond would hang onto every word. It was few and far between, but he always listened intently when it did. Her claiming the Cannibal had been the most exciting news, for obvious reasons, but little things, such as what she did on her namedays or times she travelled to visit Rhaenys on Driftmark intrigued him as well.

Because he always looked out for news of Myra, Aemond caught wind that she would be attending the wedding at Maidenpool. Aegon had been the one who was supposed to go, being the eldest son and all. However, it didn't take much persuading to change his mother's mind.

"Why would you want to attend a wedding?" Alicent had asked when he brought it up, "You haven't even met the Tarlys, or the Mootons, for that matter."

Aemond just shrugged, "It could be good for me. Besides, Aegon is more than likely to make a drunken fool of himself. I will not."

Alicent didn't see the need to protest much more, so she allowed Aemond to go.

The entire trip to Maidenpool, he thought about what he might say to Myra when he saw her again. She may hate him — no, she couldn't. If he didn't hate her, then she couldn't hate him. But she wouldn't be the same as she was the last time she saw him, for that night had changed everyone.

On the day of the wedding when Myra entered the hall with Jacaerys, Aemond was stowed away by the wall, watching carefully. As people clapped for their arrival, Aemond had to hold back his laughter when the announced Myra as "the darling of the realm". He, of course, had heard the nickname bestowed upon her by the smallfolk, but it wasn't the kind of thing to be announced as a title. It seemed that Myra agreed with him, based on the way his niece's lips pursed in discomfort.

He watched as she pulled Jacaerys into a corner, and they were immediately swarmed by attendants. He watched as one by one they all left the corner, until it was just Myra on her own. Then, Aemond took the opportunity to approach her.

Aemond wasn't sure what he was expecting Myra to be like. He certainly wasn't expecting her to be so beautiful. The only face he had to put to the name all these years had been that of a girl who had only seen eight years. Now that he was seeing her again, he wished he had not missed those six years with her.

He liked that she seemed nervous to see him, and that her gaze lingered for a moment too long on his eyepatch. It assured him that she felt some guilt for what had happened.

He did not know what to expect from their first conversation, but he was pleasantly surprised when she held her ground against him, barely showing uneasiness. The only reason he was able to tell she was uncomfortable was because she had the same tells that she did as a child.

Aemond wasn't sure if it was nostalgia or the fact that Myra was a captivating sight that made him unable to take his eye off of her, but he didn't mind either way. He was only slightly bothered that she was deliberately ignoring him, but it was an unexpected situation for her, so he didn't hold it against her. On the other hand, he was incredibly irritated by Jacaerys' constant glare.

Hearing Myra talk to Renei Tarly made up for that. Her voice was like honey when she spoke with a smile on her face, something Aemond had forgotten about.

He felt everything was going well until Derron Borrell showed up. Who was he, some small lord from Sweetsister, to ask a Princess, to ask Myra for a dance? And why in the Seven Hells would Myra agree to it?

Watching them dance was actual torture. It made him sick, so sick to the point that he had to intervene. He hated dancing — it was one of the many reasons why he tried to skip social events such as these. But he would suffer through a dance if it kept Derron Borrell away from Myra.

Myra was determined. The stubborn kind of determined. Aemond had forgotten that. She wouldn't let him in easily. That was why he had done all of this, was it not? Looked out for news of her, convinced his mother to send him to Maidenpool, done a fucking dance — all to see her again.

You used to be kind, she had said to him. That really fucking bothered Aemond. He had thought they were having a witty banter, and then she just throws that at him? He was trying very hard to be understanding, but she was not making it easy.

She really had nothing to be this upset about. Again, Myra played a significant role in Aemond losing his eye, and he was not holding it against her, so why was she being so stubborn?

He was aware that it was difficult for her to accept that she not only missed him, but held no hatred for him, either. Aemond had missed Myra desperately, and she had to miss him as well.

Myra didn't trust him. He could tell by how she looked at him, with narrow eyes and a tense jaw. Their conversation had not gone as well as Aemond had imagined it, but he had gotten Myra to admit she missed him, which was worth something.

It gave him the confiedence to write to her. In his chambers at King's Landing, Aemond stared at the crumpled flower he had taken from Maidenpool, trying to put his thoughts into words that wouldn't frighten her off.

Their correspondence was slow, but Aemond was just grateful to get anything from her, even if it was only three sentences talking about her brothers, who he didn't care to hear about. Myra had beautiful handwriting though, so that made up for it.

Going another year without seeing Myra was almost as torturous as seeing her dance with Derron Borrell. Most of his free time was spent thinking of her, more specifically her hands, and what it felt like to hold them. He had been expecting them to be soft, delicate like a princess' hand. Instead, they were rough, and she had callouses on her palm, just like he did. She had the hands of a dragon rider. That enticed him.

When Myra wrote to him saying that she would be attending the tourney at Casterly Rock, Aemond knew he had to go as well. He didn't care for tournaments, he thought they were too theatrical, but if it meant seeing Myra again, he would do it.

By the time he had reached Casterly Rock, he heard word that Myra had already arrived. Unfortunately, he had to hear this from Derron Borrell, who reached the castle at the same time as him. Why did he know that Myra was already there and Aemond didn't?

Supposedly, she had retired to her quarters, but Aemond had a gut feeling that she didn't. So, he began wandering the castle. Starting with the gardens would be his best bet, as Myra had always loved gardens, but Casterly Rock had a dozen gardens for some fucking reason.

He had checked three before he found her, sitting under a tree with her eyes closed. He almost didn't want to say anything to her — it was a privilege, he thought, to see her like this, so serene and off in her own world.

But speaking to Myra was better than watching her. As they were talking, she had smiled at him. She hadn't smiled at Aemond in seven years.

When she pushed him to keep her out of her protector's eyesight, it took a lot for Aemond to contain himself. The same hands he had been dreaming about for a year were on his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart hammering.

And then he saw the blood around Myra's nails. She must have been picking away at them for years, with how terrible each of them looked. Had they looked like this at Maidenpool? How had he missed it?

Actively seeing her picking at her nails during the tourney was bothering him to no end, and the fact that she wouldn't stop after he told her to bothered him even more. Aemond didn't think he could get more annoyed with her.

That was until Derron fucking Borrell asked for her favor. He couldn't believe that Myra would even entertain him. But then he heard her conversation with her brother.

"Is he still the only one you have your eye on?"

"You sound like Rhaena."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Myra planned to marry him? She couldn't — again, he was some small, weak lord from the Vale, not worthy of Myra.

But when she had asked him for a reason, a valid reason, in the moment he couldn't say it. He had claimed the oldest dragon in the world when he was only a child, yet he could not tell Myra the truth, that it was meant to be them. Since the day they were born, it was meant to be them.

If Aemond did not know Myra as well as he did, she may never have answered one of his letters again. Luckily, he knew that they had both once shared the pain of not having a dragon, and was able to use that to get her back to him. After weeks of his letters going unanswered, Myra finally wrote back, going on and on about her dragon.

So, their letters became more frequent, and he began attending every event he possibly could just so he could see her. Sneaking off with Myra, being able to enjoy her company all to himself, meant everything to Aemond. With every stolen glance and light brush of the hand, he became more and more convinced that they were meant to be together.

And then, at Sharp Point, she had to bring up Derron Borrell. The fact that Myra was still enthralled by him in the slightest had Aemond's blood boiling. So, he finally did something.

He might have been able to permanently dispel Derron Borrell from her mind that night had Jacaerys not come calling for her. But, that night did do something important — it proved that Myra felt the same.

But she was stubborn, always had been. So, when he sent word that he would compete in the tourney at Stonedance, he did so with the memory of what it was like to hold Myra in his hands, and the fear that it could be Derron Borrell holding her if he wasn't careful.

Aemond had never felt so ridiculous in his life as he did in that armor, lined up with the other competitors in the tourney. But it was worth it to see how Myra's eyes never left his figure as he easily handled Derron Borrell.

Hopefully, this would prove to Myra that he wasn't worthy of her. He was a weak man, too weak to even dare fight a man four years his junior, too weak to take care of her.

Of course, Myra was still stubborn, so it took him pushing her in the right direction for her to admit it, but he didn't mind. Finally, after all this time, Aemond had her.

Myra was his, just as he was hers. They were each other's right since they were born, the only duty they had was to one another. If Myra wanted him, then she would have him. Aemond would make sure she had him.

•⋅•⋅•

All Aemond had to do was convince Alicent. If she couldn't be convinced, then he would have to force her hand. Of course, he wanted to keep a good rapport with his mother, so that would be a last resort.

His plan was to find his mother after a small council meeting. Alicent would always head back to her chambers alone after meetings, and getting her alone would be his best bet. If Aemond could pull on some heartstrings, speak thoughtfully, he would be able to get her.

When Aemond arrived at his mother's chambers, he was met with Criston Cole, standing dutifully by the door.

"My Prince," Criston greeted.

"Cole," Aemond replied, nodding his head as a greeting, "I must speak with my mother."

"Her Grace is already speaking with someone."

Aemond found this odd, but didn't let it deter him, "No matter."

He would just politely kick whoever she was talking to out. Without waiting for Criston to knock, Aemond opened the door, entering the room.

"Aemond," Alicent welcomed, turning in her seat, "Is something wrong?"

Aemond almost froze in his tracks when he saw his mother with his grandfather, Otto Hightower, sitting by the fire as they drank tea. Otto's presence would make this much more difficult.

"I wish to speak to you," Aemond said to his mother, "Alone."

"Anything you can say to your mother you can say to me," Otto said, setting his cup down.

Aemond stifled an exasperated sigh. The one time Alicent decided to meet with Otto after a council meeting just had to be the day that Aemond needed her alone. She would be less willing to permit this marriage with Otto talking over her shoulder.

"Fine," Aemond said, reviewing there was no point in trying to avoid it, "I wish to marry."

This made Alicent's face light up, "That is wonderful news! I will write to the Tyrells right away — I am sure Lady Olene will be most pleased —"

"Not her," Aemond interrupted, holding his hands behind his back, "I wish to marry Myra Velaryon."

Alicent and Otto both stared at him, as if expecting him to say that he wasn't being serious, that it was only a jest. Aemond didn't falter.

Finally, Alicent said, "You — you cannot."

"Why not?" Aemond immediately countered.

"She's — she's your niece —"

"What of Aegon and Helaena? They can marry each other but I cannot marry Myra?"

"That is not what I meant," Alicent snapped, "I meant that she is Rhaenyra's daughter. She cannot be trusted."

"Myra did not get to choose her parents, she cannot be blamed for the sins of her mother," Armond said, tapping his fingers, "Her brothers may be bastards, but she is not."

"Myra will hold no loyalty to you!" Alicent said, standing up, "What gain is there to marrying her? Does she know you have come to me for this?"

"Yes, she knows," Aemond told her, "This isn't about gains, but if you need one, by marrying her, I will be King one day."

"You would be the Prince Consort," Otto said. He had been sitting silently, watching the conversation unfold, "You will never be King. If you married her, she would never put you in a position higher than hers."

"Neither of you will deter me," Aemond stated, "I wish to marry her. I won't marry anyone else."

"That is not for you to decide," Alicent said, gripping onto the back of her chair.

"It is not for you to decide, either," Aemond replied. There would be no convincing Alicent if Otto was here, he realized, so there was no point in holding off his last resort.

"How is it not for the Queen to decide?" Otto questioned. He sat up in his seat, intrigued.

"It's as you said. The King is in a higher position than the Queen. I will go to my father and plead my case to him," Aemond said, tilting his head, "The King will not oppose a union that strengthens the Valyrian bloodline."

"The Milk of the Poppy makes your father difficult to talk to," Alicent told him.

"But not impossible."

Alicent ran a hand over her face before pinching the bridge of her nose. Otto crossed his hands together in his lap, tapping the back of one of his hands with his finger.

Could Aemond find his father in a lucid state? It was rare for Viserys to be in one. After all, Alicent was right — he was on so much Milk of the Poppy to ease his pain that all of his senses were left muddied. It was a long shot, and it would mean undermining his mother, but he may not have another choice.

"Why do you wish to marry her?" Otto asked, leaning back in his seat, "Other than strengthening the Valyrian bloodline?"

Because he loved her. Because they belonged to each other, and always had. But Aemond wouldn't say that to anyone except for Myra, as a whisper in her ear.

"We have common interests," was what he settled on admitting, "I won't marry anyone else."

Otto nodded, as if he were thinking the conversation over. Aemond watching his mother and grandfather carefully.

"Mother," he began stepping towards her. It was time to pull on the heartstrings, "Please, grant me this. Grant me her."

Alicent looked up at him. In some ways, she still saw him as a young boy desperate for a dragon.

"Tell me, is Myra pleading her case to Rhaenyra and Daemon? As you are to us?" Alicent asked, genuinely curious.

Aemond shook his head. Honesty would be his best bet, "I told her I would take care of it."

"Tell me, Aemond, how do you plan on swaying Rhaenyra?"

"A letter from the King would force her hand."

"Do you truly believe that?" Otto questioned. Aemond turned to him. His grandfather's face looked calculated, as if he were brewing an idea.

"I do," Aemond answered, looking back to Alicent, "Please, Mother."

Alicent sighed, her gaze flitting between her son and Otto. She grabbed one of Aemond's hands, holding it in both of hers.

"It may be beneficial."

Both Aemond and Alicent looked to Otto, surprised to hear those words coming from his mouth.

"There will be conflict following the King's death. That is unquestionable," Otto went on, "A union may make the transition of power ... smoother."

Aemond had not expected Otto to break at all, let alone before Alicent.

"You would entertain this?" Alicent asked, seemingly in the same state of disbelief as Aemond.

"If the Princess' love for your son may persuade Rhaenyra to do the right thing when the time comes, then it may be worth entertaining."

"Myra will hold no loyalty to him!" Alicent argued, "This marriage would not be beneficial, there would be no gains for —"

"Myra does hold loyalty to me," Aemond interrupted, "I do not wish to marry her for potential gains or because it may be beneficial. I just want her. Please, Mother."

Alicent looked at Otto, then at her and Aemond's joined hands, and then up at her son.

"Fine," she sighed, her lips pursed, "I will speak with the King, then have the Grand Maester write a letter to send to Dragonstone."

Aemond couldn't believe it. It was much easier than he thought it would have been. Did it come with implications of Rhaenyra being usurped and Myra being used as a political tool? Yes, but he didn't care about that. All Aemond cared about was that he had gotten her.

He squeezed his mother's hand.

"Thank you, Mother," he said. He let go of her hands, turning to his grandfather and nodding his head towards him, "Grandsire."

Otto nodded his head in return. Then, Aemond swiftly left the room. He could already feel Myra's hands holding his. All he had to do was wait for a reply from Dragonstone.

•⋅•⋅•

Across the Blackwater, Myra was unaware of Aemond's doings.

Then trust that I'll take care of it, was what he had said. How he planned on taking care of it, Myra wasn't sure of, but it had been eating her alive over the past couple of days.

When Elinda came to her chambers saying that her mother had summoned her to the council room, Myra didn't think much of it. It wasn't uncommon for Rhaenyra to be in the council room, after all. She and Ser Carden walked down together, discussing the text Myra had just read about how Maegor the Cruel came to power.

When Myra and Carden entered the council room, she didn't fine it odd that Jacaerys, Lucerys, Daemon, and Rhaena were all there, as well, but she did find it odd how they all stared at her as she entered.

"Hello," Myra greeted, a knot forming in her stomach, "Is something wrong? Why are we all here?"

"It's a coincidence, really, that we're all here," Rhaenyra answered, fiddling with a piece of parchment in her hand, "I just happened to be with your brothers and Rhaena happened to be with Daemon."

"Is something wrong?" Myra repeated, holding her hands behind her back as she picked at her nails, "You neglected to answer that."

"No, nothing is wrong, my darling," Rhaenyra told her, but the looks on Jace and Daemon's faces made Myra doubt that, "We would just like an explanation, is all."

Myra looked back at Carden warily. He shrugged.

"An explanation for what?" Myra dared to ask.

"For this," Rhaenyra said, holding up the piece of parchment in her hand, "Maester Gerardys just brought it to me. It arrived from King's Landing."

Myra's eyes widened. She quickly strode across the room to her mother, snatching the parchment from her hands.

She turned her back to her family as she read the letter, unable to believe her eyes.

For the Princess Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne:

The Crown proposes a betrothal between your daughter, the Princess Myra Velaryon, and the Prince Aemond Targaryen, the second born son of King Viserys I.

The Crown believes this union will not only strengthen the realm, but further strengthen the bond between the two great families. King Viserys I eagerly awaits your response.

Grand Maester Orwyle.

"Gods, he really convinced her," Myra muttered under her breath, reading the letter over again.

"Convinced her?" Daemon repeated, brow raised, "Do you mean to say you knew about this?"

Myra spun back around, hands shaking, "I can explain —"

"What explanation do you have other than you have plotting to marry that Hightower cunt?" Daemon spat.

"That is not what —"

"What about Derron Borrell?" Rhaena asked, "You seemed so taken by him."

"Derron is very kind, but —"

"Is that why he asked for your favor at Stonedance?" Jace asked, "How long has this been going on?"

Myra sighed, rubbing her eyes, "If you would let me finish one sentence —"

"Is that where you have been sneaking off to in the middle of the night?" Luke asked.

Everyone in the room froze. Slowly, all of their heads turned towards the boy.

"Sneaking off?" Rhaenyra repeated, her eyes flitting between Myra and Luke, "What do you mean sneaking off?"

Myra gave Luke a pointed look, warning him not to say anything.

He didn't pay any mind to her, "She's been sneaking off in the middle of the night on Maekar!"

"You promised you wouldn't say anything!" Myra said, pointing her finger at him as if it would make her words more meaningful.

"I promised when you claimed to only be clearing your head, not meeting up with Aemond Targaryen in the middle of the night!" Luke argued.

Myra began walking to him, eyes full of rage. Jace, quickly realizing this was getting heated, wrapped his arms around her, holding her back.

"Where is loyalty, Luke?" Myra questioned, fighting against Jace's hold.

"That's rich, coming from you!" Luke replied, now being held back by Rhaena.

"I am going to kill you! I swear it, I swear it, to the Old Gods, the New Gods, Gods that haven't even been dreamt of yet! I swear to all of them that I will kill you!" Myra yelled, trying to remove Jace's arms from her.

"Seven Hells, Myra!" Luke cried, practically clawing at Rhaena's arms, "You're threatening to kill me because of him?"

"I'm threatening to kill you because you have no loyalty to your siblings!"

"Again, who are you to speak of loyalty?"

Jace and Rhaena shared wary looks — if either of them let go, a murder was sure to take place.

"Enough!" Rhaenyra had finally snapped, slamming her hands on the table, "That is enough! From everyone!"

The bickering stopped. Jace and Rhaena both loosened their holds. Carden stood awkwardly by the entrance.

"You three," Rhaenyra began, pointing to Jace, Luke, and Rhaena, "need to leave."

"But, Mother —" Jace tried to argue, but Rhaenyra put her hand up, silencing him.

Against their will, the three of them left the council room, but they didn't stray far from the entrance. They stood just outside, so they could hear what would be said.

"You are dismissed as well, Ser Carden," Rhaenyra said.

Carden nodded, dutifully leaving the room. He was taken aback to see Jace, Luke, and Rhaena crouched right outside, but made no mention of it as he made his way down the hall.

Rhaenyra sighed as Myra looked nervously between her and Daemon, who had taken a seat and was glaring the young girl down.

"You can explain, without interruption. I promise," Rhaenyra said, looking at Myra.

The Velaryon girl looked down at her nails. They were bleeding again. She quickly balled her hands into fists.

"I — I do not —" Myra didn't know what to say.

"Here, let's start with this. How long has this been going on?" Rhaenyra asked.

Myra bit her lip, "It's difficult to say."

"How is it difficult?" Daemon questioned, throwing his hands up, "It is a simple length of time. Has it been months? Years?"

"You need to leave as well," Rhaenyra snapped, looking over at Daemon.

"Your daughter has been tramping about with Aemond One-Eye for Gods know how long —"

"My daughter, Daemon. Not yours," Rhaenyra spat, "I am sure that whatever she has been doing with Aemond Targaryen is nothing compared to anything you have done, or I for that matter, and I will not have you shame her for the crime of being young. If you cannot sit and listen, then you need to leave."

Daemon scoffed, shaking his head as he stood up, leaving the room without a second glance. When he saw the three children outside of the room, he shooed them away, rolling his eyes as he followed them down the hallway.

Myra was fighting tears. She knew this would happen, that they would feel betrayed by her actions. Part of her wished she had never entertained Aemond. But she loved him. So she didn't really wish that at all.

"How long has this been going on?" Rhaenyra asked again, her voice surprisingly calm.

Myra couldn't bring herself to look her mother in the eyes, "It's difficult to say, only because I was not aware of things at certain times. In one way, it started at the wedding at Maidenpool. We started writing letters. But at the tourney at Casterly Rock, that was when he told me he didn't want me to marry Derron Borrell. We started writing more after that. But then at Sharp Point, he —"

Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Rhaenyra noticed, as she moved towards Myra, grabbing them.

"Sit down, Myra," Rhaenyra said gently.

Myra did as she said, immediately sitting down at the Painted Table. Rhaenyra sat down next to her. She looked over her daughter's hands.

"Alicent does this as well," Rhaenyra found herself saying, her thumbs running over Myra's torn apart nails, "At least, she used to. I don't know what she does anymore."

Myra didn't know what to say to that.

"At Sharp Point — you were there for Lord Bar Emmon's son's nameday, correct?" Rhaenyra asked, looking up. Myra nodded.

"What did he do at Sharp Point?"

Myra inhaled sharply, still avoiding her eye, "He made his intentions — clear. And at Stonedance — well, he made them more clear. So, when I say it's difficult to say how long this has been going on, I mean it. In one case, it has been over three years, but in another it has only been a few months."

"I see," Rhaenyra said, processing her daughter's words, "Is this why you were going on about doing something that would make me hate you after Stonedance?"

"I am so sorry," was all Myra could say in response, unable to hold back her tears now, "I am so sorry. I know it was wrong, I — I know it's a betrayal to you, to all of you. Trust me when I say I have felt nothing but overwhelming shame and guilt, but — I love him."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened. Even Myra was surprised by the words coming out of her mouth.

"I love him. I do. I know cannot marry him, I know, but I thought that it would be alright, if no one knew and if it was only for a little while. I know it's no excuse, that I have a duty to the realm, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will marry whoever you want me to, whether it be Derron Borrell or some old lord, whichever serves you the —"

"Myra," Rhaenyra said. Myra immediately stopped talking.

Her mother sighed, reaching forward to wipe her daughter's tears away, "Just breathe, my darling."

"We never —" Myra couldn't bring herself to actually say the words, "I'm still —"

Rhaenyra nodded, understanding what she was trying to say.

They sat with each other in silence, Rhaenyra processing Myra's words and trying to comfort her at the same time. Myra's gaze never left her hands, which were tightly gripping onto one of her mother's.

"I appreciate your transparency," Rhaenyra finally said, "I want you to know that I will never judge you for anything you do, especially not something like this. I am in no position to judge. As I said, I have done far worse."

"I don't think so," Myra quietly replied.

Rhaenyra smiled, "I have done things you don't know of. I would prefer if you didn't."

Myra didn't say anything to that. She bit her lip, still looking at their hands.

"So you love Aemond Targaryen," Rhaenyra stated. Myra finally looked up at her. She slowly nodded.

"And he loves you?"

She nodded again.

"This proposal was his doing, then?" Rhaenyra questioned.

"I would assume so," Myra answered, "He said he would take care of it, but I didn't think that he would actually be able to do anything. I don't know how he planned on taking care of you and Daemon."

That made Rhaenyra laugh, surprising Myra. Laughing was a good sign.

"He perhaps left you the hardest part," Rhaenyra remarked, tilting her head as she smiled at her daughter.

"We both thought his mother to be the biggest obstacle," Myra admitted, "He believed you could be persuaded and that Daemon had no say."

Rhaenyra hummed, "So when was this new plan concocted?"

Myra looked away from her once again as she answered meekly, "A couple of days ago."

"So you have been sneaking off in the middle of the night?" Rhaenyra asked, as if her threatening to murder Luke hadn't already answered that.

Myra nodded.

"And you are sure you love him?"

She nodded again.

"And you are sure he loves you?"

"He said he did," Myra told her, "And I believe him."

Rhaenyra nodded, sighing as she leaned back in her seat. Myra watched her mother's face closely, seeing the way it drew together in concentration as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Well, I cannot say that this marriage would bring us much benefit," Rhaenyra stated, "It may prevent Otto Hightower from trying to challenge my claim, as his blood would help rule one day."

Myra's brow raised in surprise, "You're considering it?"

"I did say you should get to choose who you sit the Iron Throne with," Rhaenyra reminded her, "Was I expecting you to choose Aemond Targaryen? No, but if that is what you truly wish, then I will allow it."

"Truly?" Myra asked.

"I want you to live happy life, my darling," Rhaenyra said, smiling as she leaned forward and cupped her daughter's cheek, "If he can help do that, then who am I to deny you?"

Myra's heart soared. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her mother, her chin on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I wouldn't thank me just yet," Rhaenyra told her, pulling back to teasingly smile at her, "We still have to tell the others. Their reaction may make you wish I had said no."

Myra laughed. Rhaenyra did as well.

"My daughter, to be married," Rhaenyra remarked, "I know many girls are already married by your age, but the idea of letting you go is hard to imagine."

"I don't need to get married right away," Myra said, "It can wait, can it not?"

"It can," Rhaenyra said, "I will write to King's Landing on the morrow, and we will figure out the details. But, you must promise me something in the meantime."

"Anything," Myra replied.

"No more midnight meetings with Aemond."

Myra grimaced as she nodded bashfully, "I promise."

•⋅•⋅•

Myra loved her mother very much, but she did not keep her promise.

After over a week of correspondence between Dragonstone and King's Landing, it was decided that Myra and Aemond were to be married in a year's time. The day that the betrothal was set in stone, Myra received a letter from Aemond, asking her to meet him that night. Of course, Myra obliged, doing her best to ignore the guilt she felt for breaking her mother's promise.

When she landed on the beach she saw that Aemond had beaten her there, as he always did. Myra climbed down from Maekar, running over to Aemond as soon as her feet hit the sand.

"You're mad!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Aemond wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground.

Myra pulled back so she could see him, "How did you do it? How did you convince her?"

"I told her the truth," Aemond said, setting her back down on the ground, "That I wouldn't marry anyone else."

And then he pulled her close and kissed her. They hadn't seen each other in almost two weeks, and, by the way Aemond was kissing her, Myra was getting the feeling that he had missed her far more than she had missed him.

"I won't be able to meet you as often," Myra breathed out when she pulled away, "Luke put two and two together and told them, and it is even harder to sneak out of the castle now."

"What a loyal brother you have," Aemond remarked, kissing her jaw. If Myra hadn't been distracted, she would have seen the anger in Aemond's eye at the mention of what Luke had done.

But she didn't, "He had good intentions. It was infuriating in the moment, though."

Aemond pulled back so he could look at her, "So I take it your family took it well?"

"As well as one could expect," Myra laughed, "Jace and Daemon were furious at first, but they seem to have cooled. Luke felt betrayed more than the rest, but he has seemingly gotten through it, as well."

"They will all have to get through it this time next year," Aemond said, his thumb caressing her cheek, "After that, you'll be all mine, and they will have to be alright with it."

Myra scoffed, "All yours?"

"I'll be yours, as well. It will go both ways," he told her, and then he kissed her again, his hands trailing down to her waist, pulling her as close to him as possible.

Later, when Myra was tired and her lips were slightly bruised, they sat on the shore together, her head on Aemond's shoulder and her knees pulled up to her chest. These tender moments still felt unreal to her, so she always tried to appreciate them when they happened.

Myra stared out at the sea, watching as the moonlight danced on the small waves. She would be married to someone she loved in a year, and while that filled her with so much joy, she couldn't help but remember what was missing.

"What's wrong?" Aemond asked, looking down at her.

Myra sighed, sitting up, "I wish I could tell my father about you and I."

She often found herself thinking about Laenor. About where he was, what he was doing. Some days she dreamt of taking Maekar and flying across the Narrow Sea, looking for him. She would hug him tightly, and he would tell her how much he had missed her snd how sorry he was for leaving her, even if it was for the best. Myra would tell Laenor everything that had happened since he left, how she had finally claimed a dragon.

But then that made her wonder if he ever heard news of her, wherever he was. If he would purposefully look out for news of her, or if he ignored it like a plague, as if he never had a daughter. Myra hoped for the first.

Aemond grabbed one of her hands, squeezing it tightly. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and the look in his eye told her that he meant it.

It occurred to Myra that Aemond probably thought Rhaenyra and Daemon had Laenor killed, as she once had. But that wasn't the case — he had just left her.

"Do you really love me? As you said?" Myra found herself asking it before she could think twice.

"More than anything," Aemond answered immediately.

A tight-lipped smile formed on Myra's face. She looked at their conjoined hands.

"I'm glad that it's you," she whispered, not even knowing what the words she was saying truly meant.

But Aemond seemed to, and that was enough. He raised her hand again, kissing the back of it once more.

────── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──────

WRITTEN: november 2024
WORDS: 6,650

AUTHOR'S NOTE! i have not even read this over i just had to get it out!! so it's unedited and probably riddled with mistakes.

being in aemond's head is SICKENING i hate that man but i hope that it gives some insight into his choices. also sorry if the ending is not great it was the homestretch and i am exhausted lol

school has been crazy and i am approaching finals season so i cannot promise a new chapter soon but i hope this long ass one will hold you over

i hope you liked this chapter!! please vote and comment if you did :) while waiting for the next chapter you want more myra content i have a tiktok account you can check out 🤭🤭