If I can’t have you, no one should.
She knew that he did not want this marriage. Even she rejected the thought of it. But for the sake of family and duty, she did it.
Married him both at the eyes of the Seven and the old gods of Valyria.
He traded her Velaryon cloak for his Targaryen one. They cut each other’s lips and tasted each other’s blood. They consummated both of the weddings. All for duty and never for love.
Yet somehow, she found herself drawn to her Uncle Aemond. It is true that once, when they were kids, she admired him. His slight smile and soft words whenever he talked to her despite her brothers joining his own into taunting him, he never treated her badly. They shared the same grievances of being dragonless.
But then the incident in Driftmark happened and everything fell apart. Their friendship was forgotten once she and her family resided in Dragonstone while the one-eyed prince licked his wounds in King’s Landing. The only good thing that happened there was when she claimed Vermithor in Dragonmont.
In a last attmept to mend the family, she was betrothed to her Uncle Aemond and wedded two moons later.
“Wife,” he called for her in their bedchambers after performing their duty of trying for an heir.
“Yes, my prince?” she murmured as she rested her eyes, his fingers trailing along her spine.
“Are you loyal to me?” he whispered and she faced him, cradling his cheek with her palm. He nuzzled his face to her warmth absentmindedly, as if any touch from her nurtured the part of him that remained hollow.
“You are my husband now, for all my life. Of course, I am loyal to you.”
He smiled and kissed her lips.
Maybe he really questioned her loyalty. After all, she was Rhaenyra’s child. It would go with no question with how she screamed at her husband when she found out Aegon usurped her mother’s throne.
“You know this is wrong, Aemond!” she trashed as she’s held back by the Kingsguard, trying to break free, to run to her mother in Dragonstone.
He only stared at her with his one eye, completely quiet before he let out a hum. “Do not let the princess leave her chambers.”
When she found out about Lucerys, her whole world fell apart. He did not even have the guts to tell her of his crime. She wailed, her cries heard across the Keep as she wept for her brother.
There was no doubt of where her loyalties lie now that her own husband had murdered Lucerys.
Aemond tried to excuse his unfaithfulness to her unwavering loyalty to her mother and not to him. She was supposed to be mine. My wife. My ally. So when he seized Harrenhal and bedded the witch that laid inside, he believed his betrayal was acceptable. After all, she failed her duty of being devoted to him. She hated him. She shouldn’t hate me. Please, don’t hate me too.
He remained in Harrenhal, hoarding its cursed walls and the witch that lived within. Returning to King’s Landing – to her after what he had done was unfathomable to him now.
They say dragons hoarded their treasure. Whatever they hold dear, they are meant to have it forever. Or their fire would lay waste to everything to take back their beloved treasure.
And that’s exactly what she did when she found out her husband had taken a lover in Harrenhal.
If I can’t have you, no one should.
She flew to Gods Eye riding Vermithor, the Bronze Fury , his large wings enveloping the night. She did not waste time as her eyes came upon the cursed castle. She laid waste burning everything and everyone.
She had no care for who remained in these walls, no care whose banners they waved.
What matters to her is her beloved husband and his whor*.
She means to kill them.
Burn them.
And no one could stop her.
Rhaenyra the Cruel’s only daughter, forevermore dubbed as the Wicked, laughed hysterically as she saw the highest of Harrenhal’s towers up in smoke, she knew her beloved Aemond was in one of the windows that were aflame, burning along with his whor* witch.
I did it all for love.
