Chapter 25

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The sound of the door creaking open is what woke Fern first

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The sound of the door creaking open is what woke Fern first.
She turned over, yawning softly and stretching out across the bed.
“My love, you're back early–” Her words fell short as she noticed a strange man stood in the doorway.
It wasn't Aegon.
It wasn't one of the King's Guards.
He wore ragged clothes of brown and grey, a stubbled beard on his chin.
She sat up, her hand instinctively slipping under her pillow to reach for the little dagger she always kept there – a habit from her days on the street of silk.
“Who are you?”
The man did not answer.
He just stepped closer, a menacing grin on his face.
Down the corridor, from the direction of Queen Alicent's chambers, a desperate cry calls out. A plea for mercy.
Helaena.
Fern bolted upright, dagger in hand, ready to run to the Queen's aid. But the man was upon her.
He grabbed her arm, bending it back until she could no longer hold her little dagger.
She yelled in agony, feeling the crack of her wrist.
“Get your hands off me!” She yelled, struggling against him.
“The King's famous whore...” He whispered, leaning in and running his meaty fingers along her cheek. Fern flinched, whimpering as he twisted her broken wrist further. “But I'm going to fuck you for free.”
She spat in his eye, her teeth bared. “Fuck you.”
He laughed, grabbing her throat. The breath was cut from her lungs in an instant as she was slammed back.
She struggled, clawing against his arms, kicking him and trying to gasp for breath. She could see black spots in her eyes, her heart beating loud in her ears.
She scratched at his face, tearing at the skin and making him groan in pain. His blood covered her nails.
With one last desperate attempt to free herself, she clawed higher. Her vision was starting to blur, the black dots growing as the word went fuzzy.
Everything hurt.
Clawing at him was agony, just moving her wrist was unbearable. But she bore it. She carried on.
Not like this. She would not die like this. Not half dressed in someone else's bed by the hand of a man trying to take her by force – just like a thousand other whores before her.
It couldn't end like this.
She wouldn't let it.
Down the corridor, she heard Helaena screaming. Begging.
Fern stuck her finger into the man's eyeball. Hard. Scooping it out with her shaking fingers.
His grip loosened on her throat and she breathed, lungs inflating with air again.
With the little breath she had, she grabbed her dagger from the floor, pushing it to his throat as he bled down his own face.
“Fern!” Aegon yelled franticly from down the hall. “Fern!”
She couldn't answer.
Her voice came out as a strangled whisper, her vocal chords burning like they'd been set aflame.
Aegon skidded around the corner, throwing himself through the door.
The minute he saw her, he took a deep breath. But his relief was only half hearted. The rest of him was filled with fear for her still.
Fern stared at the bleeding man, gripping his face in her hand.
Aegon rushed forward. “Fern...” He took note of the angry mark around her neck and the unnatural bend of her wrist and grabbed the man, dragging him up. He slammed him against a wall.
“I will fucking kill you.” He promised.
Fern had never seen this in him before. This complete rage.
His sad eyes were alight with the fire of a dragon.
She slumped to the ground, clinging to her wrist.
And that's when everything went black.

When Fern woke up, everything in her body hurt.
Her head felt fuzzy, her eyes sore, and she realised she must've passed out.
“Where is she now?” Aemond asked from the other end of the room.
“With your mother.” Ser Criston answered. “She won't leave her room.”
“And Jaehaera?”
“She's safe. The King placed extra guards at her door.”
“How many?”
“Fifteen.”
Aemond hummed.
She felt fingers on her cheeks, and her eyes fluttered open. Aegon was sat beside her.
His eyes red. Sore with tears. Dark and furious. His jaw was clenched.
But his hand... Was so soft. So, so, soft. Caressing her cheek.
“You're awake.” He said.
She smiled softly, touching his hand. “I'm awake.”
“I didn't think you'd wake up.”
“I'm awake.”
He nodded, squeezing her hand softly. She watched him stand up, looking over at Aemond and Cole.
“Leave us.” He said, calm on the surface but she could hear the deep emotions running beneath.
“Aegon–”
“Leave us.”
His voice was firm.
Fern sat up.
Aemond looked back at her as he left, his one eye running over and checking her. Checking to make sure she was alright. He bit his lip and left, the door closing behind him.
A thick silence filled the room.
Something was wrong. She could feel it in the air, could see it in the way he breathed.
Growing up, death and pain and suffering had surrounded her. It clung to her like a shroud. Ever present. A reminder that that's the only thing little girls from the streets of Kings Landing can ever rely on.
Death.
It was everywhere. In the dust, in the waning sun. Everywhere.
And she could feel it crawling up her skin.
“Jaehaerys is dead.” He said finally, the last word choked out like he could barely say it. “My son is dead.”
She knew it was coming. Somehow she knew. But it still made her breath catch.
“Who?”
“Who do you think? Revenge for Lucerys.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “But Jaehaerys was innocent.”
“Yes. He was.”
She moved closer.
She wanted to hold him. To hold him and never let go.
That smiling boy she'd met so many years ago was long gone now. And Fern watched as the last little spark of light died in his eyes.
“Was Helaena–”
“There when they killed him. Begging for his life.” He paused, his jaw clenching. “While I was here with you.”
“Aegon...”
“While my son was being murdered, I was running to you.”
She didn't know what to say to him.
It was true.
The first place he'd run when he'd heard those screams was not to his wife and children... It had been to her.
And he'd lost his child.
She bit her lip.
“We have to form a counter attack.” He said. “Aemond and I. We're going to kill them. Every last one of them.” He reached for the door, silent for just a moment. “I won't be back tonight.”
She watched him leave, and knew deep in her soul that there was some part of him she would never get back again.

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