Harrenhal was haunted it was said by some, from the very first stone laid, cursed by the Gods themselves, yet Aemond never believed such tales. When he and Criston Cole marched to reclaim Harrenhal and the riverlands he learned that Kingβs Landing had fell to his half-sister Rhaenyra and that you, his older sister Helaena and mother Alicent had found yourselves hostages by the same. The whole Harrenhal faced the consequences of his wrath. He ordered the execution of everyone within the castle, yet just a single woman managed to be spared from his fury, a bastard of house Strong. During his stay he had found himself laying with her, just once he had let himself share his bed with that woman, that witch, with another woman but you since your marriage. A moment of weakness he liked to think. Ever since the day he arrived, merely a moon ago, he discovered on his own behalf that what they said about Harrenhal was far from a silly bedtime story to scare children, that there was truth behind those rumours. He was resting in his bedchambers inside the grim castle when his ears caught a glimpse of your voice, like a siren, leading him outside of his room into dead of night. His eye was met by you, standing just a few feet from him at the end of the dimly lit hallway. A shiver went down his spine as he blinked his single violet eye a few times, making sure that he wasnβt dreaming. You stood there, his sweet sister-wife. Your head turned to look at him with your violet eyes, barefoot and wearing just your thin nightgown, the silver hair that he loved so much loose against your back, your gaze almost haunting him. But it wasnβt real, it couldnβt be. There was no way that you were really there.
βLook at what youβve done to meβ¦β You spoke to him, your tone soaked of what seemed to be misery. If there was someone that could melt the heart of Aemond One-Eye it was certainly you.
β{{user}}β He whispered.