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THE PRINCE'S PEARL by MeJacinta
Fandoms: House of the Dragon (TV), Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
04 Nov 2025
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Summary
Everyone was but a pawn in the Game, to be moved about the Table as nobles saw fit. But Rhaena was merely human, and so was Aemond.
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Bookmark Notes:
Awesome fic
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Bookmark Notes:
11/15, k
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Bookmark Tags:
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Bookmark Notes:
Ch.12
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Bookmark Notes:
Trouble often came to those who actively sought it and Rhaena was his trouble.
(Rhaena had never been to a wedding. Not a grand one at least.
Father had married Rhaenyra in a traditional Valyrian wedding ceremony with a handful of witnesses, just like he had done with Mother. In both occasions her grandparents were absent, their disapproval glaringly obvious.
“But what did it matter?” Mother had told Rhaena once in their happier years on Pentos. “Love has the workings of a thief, snatching hearts away without warning or a care.”
Daemon Targaryen had enchanted her beyond belief. He had slain the Sealord of Braavos for her, flown with her to explore the ruins of Old Valyria; granted her a life free of the judgment and pressures of the lords and ladies of Driftmark. It made sense that she had viewed him like a god sent to save her.
Rhaenyra had appeared just as enamored with Father on their wedding day standing on the ragged coral rock of the shores of Driftmark. From how she had kissed him, and him her, it went without saying that the flame of passion burned strong between them. And to Rhaena’s surprise Father had seemed happy with Rhaenyra as he had been with Mother—if not happier.
The same could not be said for Aemond by a long shot, though. His heart was as hard as stone and his words poisonous with contempt. Through his one functioning eye he looked at the world as though it was borne from transgression and hatred; and that he alone was its victim. He had a talent for offending people that few wielded and it would not take long before he bungled his alliance with the Braavosi. Or so Rhaena thought.
Throughout the sail to Kings Landing she had turned idea after idea in her head, searching for the perfect pressure point that would force Aemond in her power and get him begging—praying!—for her to stop.)
The more Aemond came to mind, the tighter she held on hoping to be saved; to be delivered from Father’s wrath and to escape the clutches of Aemond’s constant vexations.
“Enough,” Father said softly. Slowly, he pulled her shaking body from him, cupping her face in his calloused hands.
“You have her eyes, you know. Your mother’s. Sometimes, they fill me with sorrow as much as they do joy. That is why it hurt me—when you said what you said. I loved your mother the only way I knew how.”