XXIII

                                    

                                          
a/n - another one. enjoy hehe (our fav angsty babies)!! also don't forget, if you'd like to watch edits I make, you can follow me on the clock app under the same username :)
Note - Aemond's POV takes place the day he kills Byron, just like last chapter, whereas Shaera's pov is days ahead. Their "times" will return to normal soon
- mint
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Shaera
"Ae-"
Shaera cleared her throat, catching the name before it could fully leave her lips. Her cracked lips, she could tell as she lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. Her tongue felt dry, as dry as her throat, which ached to even sputter out a syllable of a name she realized she should not say. Not here. Not now.
Her eyes locked with Qoren's. His dark eyes that reminded her of the obsidian that ran in crevices in the caves along the black shores of Dragonstone. The bowl by his feet was forgotten and without a moment's notice, he began to step closer. Unsure. Wary. As if approaching meant she would fall back to sleep, but he still took the risk. He took the risk and went to her bedside, lifting a hand to her face. Shaera blinked a few times, wondering why her vision wavered from her left side so much, but such a thought was put out when Qoren lifted his hand to her cheek. He cupped it so delicately, so much so that Shaera released a shaky breath. 
"You're awake," he whispered. Shaera thought he couldn't seem to believe it as he stared down at her with furrowed brows. There was a darkness beneath his eyes, as if his irises had cracked and spilled onto his umber-brown flesh, pooling into bags. 
She tried to reply. She did. But her throat ached and her tongue protested any attempt to form words. So, Shaera tried to smile up at the Dornish prince. She tried to smile and she lifted her hand to his. 
Shaera could only hope that he understood her gratitude. 
(Rhaenyra had pulled away from Shaera a moment before Qoren entered, and she watched as her friend approached her daughter. She watched as he stared at Shaera with something akin to fear. To relief. To...
Rhaenyra leaned back in her chair despite the groan and ache of her back, and the pain that flitted about in her swollen stomach, but she leaned back to watch. To watch as Qoren treated Shaera with a kindness and gentle touch she knew Daemon treated herself with. Rhaenyra sucked in a sharp breath and she couldn't help the small smile that crossed her lips. 
Her daughter was alive. Her daughter was alive and Rhaenyra had made the right decision.)
"How do you feel?" Qoren asked, lifting his hand to her forehead. "Are you alright?"
Shaera nodded slowly and she pressed a hand to her throat. "M-My..."
"I'll have fresh water fetched for you," he said quickly. Qoren then turned to Rhaenyra. "I'll be just a moment; shall I also send for Maester Gerardys?"
"That would be greatly appreciated, Qoren," Rhaenyra thanked him. Quiet. Exhausted. 
Shaera looked to her mother and saw it. Her pale skin carried purple hues beneath her lilac eyes, and there was a certain gaunt quality to her usually full cheeks. And there was an odd...meshed quality to Shaera's vision. As if she could see just fine out of one eye but the other was...she tilted her head, brows furrowing as she tried to figure out what it was. What is was that didn't seem quite right.
(Qoren paused for a moment before he left. He could hear the children running to meet their sister, and he knew Prince Daemon was quick to follow. The Rogue Prince had made himself scarce as soon as they touched down at Dragonstone, and Qoren knew why. There was a haunted look in his eyes, one Qoren knew all too well-fear, despair, pain. Qoren did not doubt that Daemon wished to be beside his stepdaughter, but the past made it all too painful, and perhaps it was for the best. For it was Daemon Targaryen who watched the children whilst Rhaenyra held vigil at her daughter's side, day and night.