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EIGHT;
『 REFUGE 』

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ㅤ THE RIDE BACK HOME IS INTENSE. Not only is it pitch black outside, but the threat of war looms closer than it has in years, and it's all my fault. My legs have become the equivalent of water from all the squeezing I've had to do. Riding without a mount means you have to use every single muscle in your leg to command the dragon. We land as the first colors of dawn begin climbing over the horizon. I'm exhausted. The idea of sleep has never felt so needed before.

       Aemond grabs the bag he had tied to his mount and throws it over his shoulder. He too looks quite sleep deprived. He walks over to me and puts his arms around me in an embrace. His hands wrap around my upper back and mine around his. He rests his chin gently on my shoulder. We stay like that for a few long moments. It still bewilders me to think that he's come with me, here to Dragonstone. He's left everything he's ever known. His family, his friends, and the ways of culture that he has grown up with. He is an outsider here.

      "Will your mother turn me away?" He asks with an airy breath into my ear. I shake my head which continues to rest on his shoulder.

      "She will not," I promise. I feel his shoulders untense. "You will be safe here. This is your refuge." I say to him despite the fact that it isn't entirely true. An army of men, dragons, and ships could appear at any moment. I cannot promise his safety, but I can promise that he will be allowed to escape his past here.

      He leans his head into my neck and plants a kiss there. A surge of warmth runs through my body. As long as I am close to him, I find myself never lacking in warmth nor in wit. He always keeps me on my toes.

      "We must get inside and alert my mother and father at once of the happenings." I say to him. He slowly pulls back. We walk stride in stride to the castle that looms in the distance. The clouds are low today, therefore they seem to float over the highest towers. I have missed my home even though it has been only a few days.

      It is just as I remember it, the warmth, the ambiance. I manage to find Lucerys in the halls. He appears to be walking back to his chambers. He seems to hear my footsteps, as he is quite quick in senses, and turns to face me. He runs to me in a heartbeat and engulfs me in a hug. It isn't until he pulls away that he sees Aemond. I imagine the hairs on the back of his neck rising. The two of them have always had some sort of tension.

"Aemond," my brother says. I notice that his voice seems to have dropped a few octaves. "What brings you to Dragonstone?" His eyebrow draws to a suspicious raise.

"The threat of war, I'm afraid." He says. My eyes bounce from Aemond back to my brother. His eyes go wide. I ask where I might find mother and father and he points me in the correct direction. I thank him then we take off quickly as we can.

I've been directed to the study chambers, where apparently my mother an father have been spending the majority of time since I left. I slowly push open the doors to the room. In the center is a large table with a map spread over it. There are figures of ships, men, dragons, and horses. It's a battle map. I've seen it before, although no figures have ever been on it. It's always just been an empty map of Westeros. My mother had been looking through the window, but she turns her head over her shoulder whenever she hears the door open.

She sees me, then Aemond. I watch her facial expression change. It seems as though a wave of panic has floated over her. Suddenly, out of no where, my father appears by her side. The two of them stride over to us. I account both the confused looks spread across their faces.

"Why is Aemond Targaryen standing in these chambers?" My mother asks evenly. Her voice isn't hostile. It never is. I cannot recall the last time my mother has raised her voice at me, if ever.

"I've willingly left King's Landing with the Princess. My mother and brother have become far too ambitious for my being. They are liars and cheaters and I no longer feel as though the Red Keep is a home to me." His words come out as though it's something he's thought about saying for a long time. My mother and father exchange a look. Daemon takes a step toward Aemond. I find myself holding my breath.

"Why have you chosen to travel here with Alerhya? Why now?" He questions. The way my father studies Aemond tells me that there is unresolved anger here, somewhere.

"Alerhya was leaving and I felt as though it was the right time for me to depart as well," he answers. "I have come now because I can see the tension growing in my mother and brother. As Viserys grows weaker, their ambitions grow stronger. I can fight with them, or I can fight here, for the right reasons." He explains. Again, his words seem somehow long thought out. Perhaps he's planned his escape for longer than I may have thought.

Daemon nods then looks at me. I nod slightly in return. He lets out a deep sigh. "Welcome to Dragonstone then, Prince Aemond." His voice rasps as he says Aemond's title. A brief smile flashes across my face, before it is replaced by a frown as I see the battle map spread across the table. My jaw clenches as the thought of fire and men raiding the walls of my home.

Aemond is sent to the guest chambers and I am left stuck inside the study, where my mother and father interrogate me for information. They must know details, even the small ones that I may not have realized at the time. They ask about everything; from the time it took me on dragon back to arrive there to the time it took me to arrive back. By the time I've spit out all the information I possibly can, the evening colors are beginning to spread across the sky. I have spent all day locked behind close doors as my mother and father digest the valuable information stowed away in me.

"You may go." My mother says finally. I excuse myself and drag myself to my chambers.

I had spent the previous night on dragon back. My muscles are completely exhausted and my mind feels like soup. I swing open the door to my chambers and shuffle to the wardrobe, where I pull out my nightgown. Thankfully I have a few spares, as I had left my best one back at King's Landing. As I'm about to rip off this dress that has been on me for far too long, I notice a figure through the doors of the balcony. It's Aemond. He's turned to face the ocean below. His pure white hair flows behind him.

I push open the doors. He does not turn or even flinch. I take my spot next to him, with the nightgown still in my hands. I follow his eyes as they cast over the sea. It's quiet enough at this hour to hear the waves crashing onto the shore. I cant imagine he's ever heard something more beautiful and peaceful than this.

"I hope you don't mind me coming here," he says dimly. "I do not have a balcony and I have wished to see this ocean for so long." He claims. I shake my head with a smile.

"Do not worry," I reply. "It is a wondrous view indeed. It must be enjoyed whilst it can be." I confirm. I watch as his eyes slowly slip away from the shore to the nightgown in my hands.

"I cannot imagine how tired you are." He says, as if he hadn't spent all day riding. Though, he had time to relax after our landing. I was immediately sucked of information and sanity.

"I'm thinking I may just sleep in this dress." I joke. Although, I'm not sure how much I'm truly kidding. There are many things to unlace and unbutton and I can do it myself given enough time and patience, but usually with this dress I call a servant and have them help me out of it. It saves me a bit of mind.

Aemond takes my hand and leads me back into my chambers. He pushes the doors to the balcony closed. The room is much warmer compared to the outside temperature. He stands behind me and his hands touch the back of my dress. His fingers brush against my neck. A chill runs through me. Without speaking, it has come to my attention that he has decided to help me out of my dress. It is utterly immoral for me to allow this, but I find myself unable to say anything to stop him from doing so.

His fingers slowly make their way down my back, unbuttoning each clip one by one. He pulls the dress off my shoulders. I step out of it as it falls to the floor. He's made it to my corset. His fingers pull the strings tying the piece to my body. It comes undone in just a few moments. Now I'm just in my undergarments. I pull these off myself. He stands behind me, unmoving. My back faces him, completely and distinctly nude. But, I do not worry about what he is thinking. Somehow, his thoughts do not worry me.

I know his eyes do not leave me. I slip the nightgown over my head and pull it over my body. Finally I turn to face him. He takes a step towards me, then holds his hands to my head. He unknots the braid that had been in my hair. The tenderness of his touch is unmistakeable. My hair falls out of the braid and rests in waves on my shoulders. Once he is done, I move closer to him and pull off the wolf pelt that he has been wearing over his shoulders. It drops to the ground.

       "Stay with me tonight," I whisper. "We are both exhausted. May we slumber together and regain our strength." I say to him. He blinks slowly at me. He simply nods. I take his hand and lead him to my bed. It is just as I had left it, half unmade. The side that I sleep on is the only side that is ever bothered. We climb into our sides of the bed.

       We lay our heads on the pillows and face one another. Through the thin fabric of his tunic, I can see the outline of his chest. I take his head in my hands. I move my hand to the back of his head, where his eyepatch wraps around. I ask permission with my eyes. He nods. I find the clip and unbuckle the leather. The patch falls onto the bed. I look at the scar running from his cheek to past his eyebrow. I take his cheek in my hand and he leans into me.

       "Do you have more scars?" I ask simply. He does not answer with his words. He sits up in the bed. I follow. He crosses his arms then pulls the tunic from his body. His twists away from me, revealing a thin scar on his scapula. I run my fingers over it. His body is warm, though he shudders at my touch. I pull my fingers back, afraid that I've done something wrong.

       "I do not mind your touch," he says, continuing to face the other way. "Nobody has hands soft as yours." He says. I smile. I gently press my fingers to the scar again. I run my fingers from the scar on his scapula to the waistband of his pants, where a small scar rubs from the bottom of his spine. It's perhaps two inches long. I pull my hand away. He turns to face me then gestures to a scar on his stomach. I feel like I need to turn away as I see the abs set across his body.

       "You can touch me anywhere you would like, Alerhya." He says. I shiver. Obediently, trembling fingers and all, I approach the jagged scar on the center of his stomach area. It's perhaps three inches long. My fingers graze his skin. I try my best to pay attention to the scar and not the hardness of the muscles beneath me. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something I should not. I feel his eyes blazing into me but I refuse to look at him. I'm afraid the night may venture elsewhere if I do.

       I draw my fingers back then finally look at him. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward him. His lips press into mine. Kissing has become relatively familiar to me now. I can do it at this point without really needing to think about it. He pulls my hand back to his stomach and presses my palm to his skin. As our lips continue to roll into the others, the candle on my bedside table suddenly goes out. I pull away. We are now surrounded by darkness.

       "I believe that would be the gods saying we should go to bed." I say. He sulks down to the pillow. My hand is still caught in his. I rest my head on my pillow. We are just a few inches apart. Even in the dark, I can make out his features. I wish I could see into his mind. I wish I could know exactly what he was thinking and feeling. Though, I do also like the factor of unknowing. You may never know what someone else is truly thinking, no matter how well you may think you know them.

"Goodnight, Alerhya." He says. I don't answer. My eyes are already closed and my mind has already drifted elsewhere.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

I FEEL AS THOUGH I COULD USE TWELVE MORE HOURS OF SLEEP. The early afternoon light has already seeped into the room. I should've been awake for at least a few hours by now. The first thing I notice of my senses is touch. My hand is still wrapped beneath Aemond's. I open my eyes. He is looking down at me, propped on his arm. I scrunch my eyebrows together as my eyes take in the sensitivity of the light. He cups his hand around my eyebrows, shielding the light.

"We don't need another blind person in the midst." He says. I laugh. He has put the patch back over his eye. I lie my head back down on the pillow and stretch my arms and legs underneath the blankets.

"How long have you been awake?" I ask, staring at the canopy of my bed. He leans his hand towards me and I look. He's holding up four fingers.

"Four hours?" I say, alertly. "Why didn't you wake me?" I exclaim, suddenly frantic. He just grins. I don't think I've slept this late in my entire life, not even when my mother was in labor with all of my brothers. Even then I managed to find sleep. I sit up in the bed and run my fingers through my hair.

"You look quite peaceful when you're asleep..." he claims. "I couldn't wake you. I would've felt awful." I roll my eyes and grab my pillow, throwing it at him. He grabs the pillow mid air and shakes his head, making a clicking sound with his tongue.

"We must dress and find my mother and father. We will be prepping for the-" I cut myself off, finding my voice suddenly gone. It would be proper to say war, or maybe battle, but I cannot. Aemond understands. He nods and gets up from the bed. I watch as he stands. The muscles on his back ripple. My eyes trail from his neck to the bottom of his spine, where his pants fit loosely. He grabs his tunic from the ground and pulls it over his head. He turns to face me in a heartbeat, as if sensing me watching him. A smirk spread across his face. A wave of embarrassment flows over me.

"I will dress in my chambers then meet you in the study?" He asks. I nod. He grins grabs the wolf pelt from the floor. A cool cloud suddenly storms over me. I've been around Aemond the entire night and now suddenly he is gone. I find it hard to be alone after he leaves each time.

       I sigh and shuffle over to my wardrobe. I pull on a dress and begin readying myself for the day ahead. It will be a long few days, or perhaps weeks, maybe even months. One does not know how long it will take for a war to reach them, if it ever does. I hope and pray that somehow it will not come, but that is a childish hope to have. It will come and we will have to face it.

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