SICKLY AND SILVER | AEMOND

I.IX

ROYAL MOURNING
AND ENGAGEMENTS

"WERE YOU EVER lonely?"

Thinking on the question, Rhaella pursed her lips and frowned at her nephew, Jace, a strapping boy with brown hair and eyes, and a pug nose. "Not particularly, I had my studies to occupy much of my time. Oldtown is the seat of my mother's family, my Grandsire was with me. Not to mention Daeron was sent there, too, as cupbearer of Lord Ormund."

Queen Alicent birthed five children for King Viserys: three sons and two daughters. Aegon was the eldest, born merely a year after the marriage, followed by Helaena two years later, and Aemond the next year; after three successive children a gap of four years passed before Daeron, the youngest son was born, Alicent fell pregnant with Rhaella within a month of Daeron's birth so two children were born in the same year. In between Daeron and Rhaella was Jacaerys, though closer in months to the girl.

"I suppose you're right but did you not miss your other siblings or parents? I would miss mine immensely," Jace stated, detesting the idea of being sent away to live with the Hightowers. How did she cope? Jace pondered. Otto and Alicent manipulated like it was as easy as breathing — scrambling for power and rising above their station was their goal. After all, Alicent — the daughter of Otto Hightower, the second son of a former Lord Hightower — climbed the ranks at Court to lure The King and become his Queen. Rhaella was nothing like that, she was good and kind, virtuous and honest.

"Naturally. They are my family, however, that does not mean I was lonely."

"Ella, what are you doing talking to him?" An inquisitive voice called out. Aemond — having discussed marriage with Aegon, who was betrothed to their sister Helaena — watched his nephew talk in length to his younger sister. Jealousy pounded through his veins. Suspicion tainted his mind.

"We were discussing Rhaella's time in Oldtown," answered his uncle, though his question was not directed to Jace, "I am fascinated by the education she received from The Citadel's Maesters."

"I was searching for Baela and Rhaena but I cannot seem to find them, instead I found Jace here," Rhaella added, in truth she had become wrapped up in Jacaerys' curious voice to continue her search for the twins. Truly, the boy wanted to know about her — women so rarely were asked about their thoughts and experiences, she ceased the chance when it was served before her.

"I believe they are with Princess Rhaenys," Aemond informed her. To which the youngest of the three nodded gratefully and took her leave.

"Goodbye, Ella."

Her dark green, near black, gown disappeared from view. Aemond could still see her vibrantly silver hair though, fluttering like the wings of a graceful Dragon.

Aemond fumed: "You have no right to call her that. Only I may call her that, nephew. Rhaella is her name, use it. Princess is her title, use it."

"Prince is my title, uncle, must I remind you? Ella has no qualms with calling her as such so I think I will continue," countered the dark-haired boy. A dark look was sent his way; Aemond seethed but restrained himself from pouncing on his insolent nephew. The relationship between Aemond and Rhaella was sacred. Gods — whether they be the new gods or the old Valyrian ones — bowed down to it. Dragonfire could not melt it. The Long Night could freeze it.  Jacaerys was foolish to come between it. Dragons were vengeful beings.

"Then I should remind you, I am the son of a King and Queen whilst you are the son of a Princess and a Ser," the taller Prince rebuked.

"But I will be King after my mother. All the while you will still be a Prince," laughing, Jacaerys had an idea, perhaps it was a low and dangerous blow, "when I am King, I will need a Queen, Ella would make a magnificent one, do you not think?"

Aemond turned red with anger — albeit he did not lash out, Ella opposed violence. Storming away, he muttered strong insults under his breath. Smug Jacaerys snickered. Marrying Rhaella was not something he would fight tooth and nail for; Jacaerys would admit her features were fine and her disposition pleasing but he did not long for her. Future arrangements for who would be his Queen would likely include Rhaella. Bad blood could be sweetened by it. Jacaerys would marry her if her hand were given and his mother urged it. Much like the relationship between the two Targaryen factions, it was complicated.

For Aemond, it was as clear as the sky above the clouds. Given the chance, he would wed his Ella. In the tradition of House Targaryen, brothers and sisters married often — Helaena was promised to Aegon — so why should Aemond and Rhaella not marry? Love and affection were always shared between them, unlike their siblings. However, it was more likely the youngest three siblings would be sent through The Seven Kingdoms to secure alliances. The King's middle child did not want to be a political weapon, who would be forever bound to some power-hungry Lord's daughter. He only wanted Ella, not that he would ever truly admit it, but did she want him? The thought of her married to another knocked him sick, conjuring a rage the size of the Known World. Especially when he knew some of those being considered; whilst sneaking around the Red Keep using the passageways, the Prince happened across his Grandsire Otto suggesting marriages for his youngest granddaughter to The King himself. None were adequate for the charming and well-educated Princess. Cregan Stark was too stern and far from King's Landing. Qyle Nymeros Martell, the only son of the ruling Prince of Dorne, too young and childish. Tyland Lannister too old and inattentive. The worst proposal was a Pureborn, one of Qarth's noble rulers, a city over a continent away. Whilst he cared for his granddaughter, the ambitious Otto Hightower care for power more. Aemond would fight the world's armies to stop Rhaella from being passed off as a prize possession to aid her family. Thankfully, Viserys heard no plea for his youngest to wed. During the exchange, neither Jacaerys nor Aemond was suggested. Aemond prayed to every God — despite not being a devout man — that Fate would grant him his deepest, darkest desire.

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