cruel gods [aemond targaryen]

XXIV

T H E   F A L L   O F
K I N G S   L A N D I N G

Rhaenyra had come for her throne, and preferably the heads of those who had cost her everything. As she descended into her rightful city, panic ensured. Those left in Fleabottom had now become scarce, shouting alarms to those outing the city. It was clear that Rhaenyra had been in a great deal of pain from the way her dragon acted. Syrax had seemed to share close emotions with Rhaenyra for as long as they could remember and now she was angry.

The prayers of those, religious or not, united the city that day. Perhaps for a quicker death, maybe those prayers were for their children, husbands, mothers, fathers. None would know. As the city divided, those in the keep also did. Alicent was maddened with something, grief? Maellery watched as she commanded people. She wanted- needed- Aemond back, without him the city would fall and each of them would be put to the sword, including her children. 

She could hear her mutterings of how someone was right, they were said beneath her breath and Maellery decided not to question it. Who was right? She would never know, instead focusing on thoughts of her husband as the keep further divided themselves in two. He would come for her, he would. She knew it. It repeated in her head as the dragons flew ahead. 

"Maellery, we need ravens. Send for Aemond." Alicent told her, holding her arms as she did with Aemond, staring into her eyes with a matter of urgency in her. Maellery said nothing but smiled to her, watching as her features softened slightly before returning to her cold gaze. Maellery left to fetch the Grand Maester Orwyle, who greeted her as if the world was not about to fall.

"Send a raven to my husband, we need him here. Now." she asked of him, her tone was calm and had a hint of excitement to it. In truth, she did not want her husband here. She knew that his anger would take over and she would end up with nothing but Daemon's quick death, something she did not want to reward him with. 

The ruckus outside did not diminish for a second, Maellery felt an overwhelming urge to tell everyone to shut up and stop making noise, that the keep could not fall against two older, much stupider people. She did not know of the ships that had made their way into blackwater bay carrying the old sea snake. It seemed she was the stupid one out of those fighting. As minutes passed and the weather seemed to shift, Maellery stood still for a moment. 

The Gold cloaks had betrayed them, left for their one true Queen. They had yet to forget their leader, Daemon who had led them once upon a moon was their unlikely hero, now they swore to follow him and his queen. Maellery watched as his dragon circled around, almost as a warning to those still sworn to Aegon. She watched as she seven commanders were taken, one by one as each begged for mercy. She watched as they looked to the sky, the gods above were cruel. Some were awarded their lives, others weren't as lucky.

They had been left defenceless, her husband out fighting only the gods knew where, the gold cloaks had turned, they were left with nothing. And still, the thought of begging for mercy, bowing down to the true heir never crossed her mind. Maellery didn't think of Rhaenyra as queen, she did not even think of Aegon as her king. Beneath the gaze of the gods, she swore her alliance to her husband, only her husband.

In her eyes, he was a saint. He had done nothing wrong, he did not father bastards or betray his wife, he trained and rode the fearful Vhagar. For a moment in time, she looked toward the hallway that held Aegon in, his limp body burnt and worthless. Perhaps she should enter his chamber and free him of his torments, slitting his throat as he slept. She smiled softly to herself, slowly making her way toward his rooms. 

Though as she slipped through the gap, she found it empty. The King, oh the beloved protector, had vanished, hiding amongst the shadows. She called for him in a hushed tone, checking each and every inch of his chambers. The only thing she heard back was the echo of her whispers and the beating of her own heart. Subtle footsteps of Otto caused her to turn, the alarms had not yet been sound and she prayed that her husband would arrive soon.