𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍, 𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇

𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞;
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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     𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒, 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 a wrong doing, to love your family and uphold the traditions of Valyria, perhaps it was wrong to wed your sister, or aunt, or niece, but Aemon didn't care. All that he cared about was Aenora, the precious gem of his life.

Aemon couldn't care less about what was written between the rotting pages of the books in Oldtown and or any other library in Westeros, as long as he had his Aenora with him. There was something deep in his heart as he looked away from the stars and looked at her. There was something about how he looked at Aenora. The way he looked at her; like she was the moon, like she was made of wonder and beauty, like she was something not everyone knew how to love. Like the whole world could crumble, and still, he would not blink as he looked at her.

Everyone in the Keep knew Aemon loved her, long before he told anyone. Anyone who saw the way he looked at her, knew he was doomed. They could see it in his eyes. The way his eyes would light up every time he sees her walk towards him. It was obvious even to Maegelle, as young as she was, that sparkle in his eyes when she spoke was the kind you wait your whole life for. Baelon and Ser Gaelon may have laughted and teased them, but inside, they knew they were all hoping someone, someday, might look at them the way Aemon looked at her.

Aemon promised to himself that he would never let anyone fall in love with her. But it was the hour of bats, moons and moons ago, and they sneaked to the Flea Bottom, and they were laughting too hard, and he felt very happy for the first time in years. And he knew, he was screwed.

Even now, as he stared at her sleeping body, relaxing in the warm embrace of Ghost's wing and laying in the blanked she has placed in the ground for them both to sleep on, she looked ethereal. It wasn't the kind of ethereal that some said only the Maiden had, it was the sweet and soft kind o ethereal that Aenora possessed.

"Has Mother forgot to teach you that it is rude to stare?"She asked him as she leaned against Grey Ghost's warm chest. Aemon looked at her cheeks and saw the light shade of pink covering them, as her eyes watered at the cold wind blowing in them.

"I beg forgiveness, Princess."Aemon said with a soft voice as he scotted closer to her, and away from Caraxes.

"What are you doing?"She asked him as he touched Ghost and patted him to show the dragon that he meant no harm to anyone."Aemo-"She was cut off by herself when Aemon pulled her towards him and let her lay in his lap.

"Is that warmer?"He asked as he grabbed the blanket he was covering with and put it on her.

"Yes, but won't you be cold?"Aenora smiled and played with the hem of her dress, she swore she could feel his knee bending a little.

"Lay in between me and Ghost."He said as she rolled away from him, letting him lay in the front of her with his back to the wind."Caraxes, keep us warm!"Aemon told his beloved dragon and the bloody red beast moved to shield its master from the cold wind the Narrow Sea brought to Dragonstone.

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━━ 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍, the Prince Aemon of Dragonstone knew, she was to be a spoiled Princess. It was clear from the first second she opened her dark purple eyes, when she was presented to the King and his sons, that she was going to become one if the most beautiful women in the House of the Dragon - ever. With the pale porcelain skin like no other, and silver-gold hair that was akin to the feathers of a dove, she was every inch a Targaryen Princess the World praised to the skies, a true Valyrian beauty.

Singers praised her and begged for a grasp of her attention every time she would walk past them, grasping for a glance at her amethyst colored eyes. The ones that got what they wanted, were in awe of the grace the young eleven summers old girl possessed.

And every Lord and Lady of the Realm has sent a raven to the King - at the least once - asking for her hand in a marriage with their son. However, only four suitors were trully considered. First was Lord Corlys of the High Tides, the second was Prince of Dorne, third was the Prince Baelon and fourth was the Prince Aemon. Each of the Lords has heard of the rumors, spreading around Westeros like a dissease, about the Princess Aenora and her unspeakable beauty. But, only the Princes Aemon and Baelon were the ones to see into the realness of the rumor. And truth be told, they were far from pleased. They were dissapointed how the songs only talk about her beauty, and not her kind heart.

She was a wild spirit, but had a soft heart, with such a sweet soul. For her mother, the Queen, Aenora was the perfect embodiment of the Maiden. Not because she was a great beauty, but for the delicateness and tenderness she held within her skin.

Be good to her, she is rare. The King would say to Aemon as he cought his son staring at his sister with great love behind the lilac eyes. My heart breaks, when I see her sad. The Prince would answer to his King.

Then, like a hurricane had brought her to him, she found herself standing next to his chair as he looked at his cup. He couldn't bear to look into her eyss and not think of the dreams he had about her. But, to his suprise, she touched him. And it felt like the stars were dancing across his skin.

He didn't meant to fall in love with his little sister - to who he was elder to five summers. But he did. And every time she would cry, it broke his heart. She didn't mean to hurt him, but she did. At some point in his life, Aemon thought about her in his embrace, in his arms, in his bed. Aenora Targaryen was the prettiest what if? that the Prince thought about, that much was clear.

To him, she was life itself, so wild and free. Wonderfully chaotic. A perfectly put together mess. But, she was not like that. Deep inside, she was like the moon. Aemon though he saw every piece of her - every crater, every phase - but he thought wrong. A piece of her is still hidden, it always will be.

She let people of the court think of her a foolish child, but the common folk of her thought as brave and smart. She was one of the rare ones, so cunning and kind - even at a young age - and Westeros loved her for it.

The world was full of poets, but she herself, was poetry. Her aura was made of poetry, roses and stars. A mess of gorgeous chaos, you can see it in her eyes. Aenora Targaryen, the First of Her Name, was simply put, magic. She was her own moon, shining bright in the night.

But, to shine, the moon needed the dark arms of the night to hold her. A job, he was more than willing to do. Because, for her, Aemon Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone - would steal the stars.