Time seemed to warp, slowing to a crawl.
Aemond saw the trajectory of Lucerys's dagger. In the same heartbeat, he sensed Jacaerys flanking him from the right.
He made his choice.
Aemond sidestepped, letting Lucerys's momentum carry the blade forward into empty air.
With his left hand, he grabbed the back of Lucerys's tunic and yanked him hard; simultaneously, his right foot hooked behind Jacaerys's ankle.
Jacaerys stumbled, falling forward, directly into the path of his stumbling brother.
Directly toward the cold, glinting obsidian blade.
Lucerys tried to pull back, his eyes widening as he saw his brother falling toward the knife, but physics was faster than intent.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Thwack
The world froze.
Everyone stood rooted to the spot, mouths agape, sound dying in their throats.
Rhaena and Baela covered their faces, muffled sobs escaping through their fingers.
Aemond stood panting, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on Jacaerys.
The older boy didn't scream immediately. He stood there, twitching violently, as if his brain could not yet process the reality.
His intact right eye turned slowly, glazing over in disbelief, shifting from Aemond to the piece of metal protruding from his own left eye.
Then, a wet, rattling gasp clawed its way out of his throat.
"He… he…"
Then came the scream.
"Ahhhhh!!!!!"
It was a sound stripped of humanity, a raw howl of absolute agony. Jacaerys collapsed to his knees.
Lucerys stood over him, paralyzed. He reached out to touch his brother but pulled his hand back, fingers clawing uselessly at the air.
Blood gushed from the wound, dark and heavy, mixed with a clear, viscous jelly that slid down Jacaerys's cheek and dripped onto the cold stone floor.
"No… no! Brother!" Lucerys finally found his voice.
He rushed to Jacaerys's side, hovering uselessly, terrified to intervene.
"Don't touch it!" Aemond hissed, snapping out of his trance.
"Don't pull it out!"
He knew enough to know that removing the blade now would open the floodgates. If they pulled it, Jacaerys would bleed out in seconds.
Lucerys trembled at the voice. He looked at his writhing brother, then raised his head to glare at Aemond with tear-filled, impotent fury.
"It's you! It's all your fault, Aemond!" he shrieked.
"If it weren't for you, my brother wouldn't be like this!"
A cold sense of irritation settled in Aemond's chest.
Had the fate of an eye for an eye been inevitable? Only now… the debt has been paid by the wrong brother.
"Guards! Someone, help!" Rhaena and Baela screamed toward the tunnel entrance, their voices shrill with panic.
A chaotic flurry of footsteps echoed from the passage, growing louder by the second.
Guards burst into the Dragonpit first, torches casting wild shadows.
Close behind them was Princess Rhaenyra, dressed in a nightgown, her silver-gold hair disheveled from sleep.
Prince Daemon followed, wearing only a cloak over his tunics, his hand already resting on the pommel of Dark Sister.
"What happened?"
Rhaenyra's words died in her throat.
"No!!!"
She saw the dagger lodged in the socket of her firstborn son. Her face drained of all color, turning a ghostly white.
She stumbled, knees buckling, but Daemon caught her by the arm, steadying her.
She shook him off violently and rushed to Jacaerys.
"My child… my Jace…" Her voice was broken, a jagged whisper.
She reached out to hold him but stopped mid-air, terrified of worsening the injury.
Slowly, gingerly, she wrapped her arms around his convulsing body.
She stared at the dagger, at the blood masking half his face, and at his single remaining eye, which rolled blindly in shock and pain.
She looked up, her face twisted into a mask of feral command.
"Call the Maesters! Get the Maesters here, now!"
The guards scrambled to obey, running back toward the castle.
Rhaenyra turned her head. Her gaze landed on Aemond.
"Who did this…"
Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, yet it dropped the temperature in the cavern to freezing.
In those violet eyes, Aemond saw only the purest, poison-dipped hatred.
"I didn't do it," Aemond answered firmly, meeting her scrutiny without flinching.
He looked at his half-sister. In the stories, she was called the Realm's Delight, the Light of the Kingdom.
She was undeniably beautiful and charismatic enough to eventually command half the realm's loyalty.
But Aemond was the second son of Alicent, the Green Queen. He knew there would be no justice here.
"It was your son, Lucerys," Aemond explained, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.
"He pulled the dagger. He tried to stab me, and he accidentally injured Jacaerys."
Rhaenyra turned her head slowly to look at her second son.
Lucerys was shaking, his face pale. Daemon stood beside the boy, silent and imposing.
"Aemond did it," Lucerys stammered, his voice trembling under his mother's gaze.
"Mother… it was Aemond. If it weren't for him, Jace wouldn't…"
"You lying bastard!" Aemond snapped, his blood boiling at the immediate framing.
"You harmed your own brother, and now you pin it on me?"
"I didn't! It wasn't me!" Lucerys cried, though his voice lacked conviction.
Aemond paused. He noticed something.
The blood that had been coating Lucerys's right hand just moments ago… was gone.
He glanced at Prince Daemon.
The Rogue Prince stood tall beside the boy, a faint, inscrutable smile playing on his lips.
One of his hands was tucked into his robe, likely concealing a stained handkerchief.
Aemond's heart sank. They are closing ranks.
Daemon had assessed the situation instantly. Jacaerys was maimed, perhaps dying.
The truth would ruin Lucerys. But a lie? A lie could destroy the Greens.
"Aemond did it," Daemon said calmly.
"I saw him," Lucerys latched onto the lifeline.
"I saw him stab the dagger into Jace's eye! It was him!"
"It was him!" Baela and Rhaena chimed in, their voices overlapping in a chorus of accusation.
Aemond looked at the wall of faces united against him. He was beyond defense.
"You," Rhaenyra whispered, turning fully toward him.
"You wanted to murder my son?"
"You know that isn't true," Aemond said, pointing at Lucerys.
"Look at him. He's terrified because he knows what he did."
"I only believe my children," Rhaenyra cut him off coldly.
"If it weren't for you, Jace would be whole."
She recognized the dagger. It was a gift from Corlys Velaryon to Lucerys. But she would never admit her son had wielded it against his own blood.
"Heh." Aemond let out a short, bitter scoff. There was no reasoning with her grief or her bias. To her, his very existence was the crime.
Daemon stepped past Rhaenyra and knelt by Jacaerys.
His movements were clinical, professional. He examined the angle of the blade, checking the depth without touching it.
After a moment, he looked up at Aemond. A cold, predatory amusement danced in his eyes.
"I didn't expect that we Targaryens would produce a kinslayer so young," Daemon drawled.
"How ironic."
He stood up, his hand caressing the hilt of Dark Sister.
"Boy, you've got more guts than your father."
"I'm going to kill this bastard!"
Rhaenyra suddenly lunged, reaching for the sword at Daemon's waist.
Aemond tensed, prepared to fight for his life, but Daemon caught Rhaenyra's wrist.
"Don't be impulsive, Rhaenyra," Daemon said, his voice low but firm as he held back the furious mother.
"Jace isn't dead yet. And we have an audience."
Heavy footsteps thundered into the Dragonpit.
"What happened!"
"What in the Seven Hells happened here?!"
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A/N:
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