The Dragons and Their Sun (aemond/oc)

aemond II

Aemond,

What's your favorite color? I think mine is green.

-Aurora

That was it? Aemond blamed himself a bit; it's not like his letter was the most intriguing. At least, she had written back.

The screech of chair legs had brought his attention up from his letter. Rhaenyra was halfway out the door when he had looked at her. He watched her go with an open mouth in confusion. What could have possibly been in that letter to make her react that way? Aemond was only slightly worried.

He stole some of his sister's parchment and used her quill to write a response.

Lady Aurora,

What did you write to make Rhaenyra run out of the room? Is something wrong?

I don't have a favorite color.

-Prince Aemond

He used his title and made sure to use hers; it was only appropriate, after all. Titles should be used. He waited for the ink to dry before he tied his response up in the pink ribbon. It was ugly. He quickly unwrapped his letter, adding, I don't like pink.

He smiled to himself, satisfied with his letter before rolling it back up. He frowned in disgust as he fiddled with the pink ribbon. Maybe he could gift Aurora one of Helaena's prettier ribbons? Girls like that stuff, right? He would have to ask-Who could he ask? Aegon was a definite no. His father barely acknowledged his existence. Jace and Luke were too young. His mother had told him that Laenor had interests that weren't women, so whatever that meant, he couldn't help either. He would never ask his mother; that would only make her question why he wanted to know, and he wouldn't be telling her anything. He had a feeling she wouldn't like that he was spending time with Rhaenyra, either. He wanted to keep his new friends by his side; his mother couldn't take them. They were his . For once in his life, something was his, and he intended to keep it that way.

Not that Rhaenyra was his friend. Absolutely not. He shook his head to clear those thoughts before they could form into something more. Once his letter was rolled, he placed it in a cup on Rhaenyra's table in an attempt to hide it until she could send it out. He was glad he did because seconds later, his mother was bursting into his sister's chambers, "Aemond!? Come here, let me see you! What did that bastard do now!?

It wasn't the first time Alicent had openly referred to his nephews as that, but it was the first time Aemond flinched back from the word. Alicent misunderstood and turned to Ser Criston, "Bring me Jacaerys."

He nodded and was about to leave when Aemond shouted, "No!"

He stopped, more in shock because Aemond had never raised his voice at him before. Alicent gripped his chin, and he fought a shiver, "Aemond, sweetheart, he hurt you. He must be punished."

He looked her in the eye, "Mother, I am fine. Look at me. If anyone is to be punished, it should be me. I hit him," he told his mother. "Twice."

It got the exact opposite reaction that he had hoped for as his mother's lips twitched up, "Very well. Perhaps, you have punished him yourself."

That was the point, he wanted to snap them. He was tempted to throw a punch of Ser Criston if it would wipe the slimy smile off the man's lips.

Alicent's smile grew a little before she turned away, "Come. You shouldn't be in here."

She cast a disgusted look around the room before turning to walk out. He was immensely glad she didn't ask why he was in there.