𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗂 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇

𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑;
A LIFE COMES FROM DEATH
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

  1.3 ━━━ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 could pay for life, and only the dead can survive the long night. That was supposed to be the rule of the living. Supposed to be. Exept for the fact that it was not, it was a miracle that the long night had been known throught the history books. A tale that the old nuns would tell to the children in the far North had been told so many a time, even the Maesters began to write it.

"My dearest condolances, Princess."A voice disturbed Aelena from her mourning as she sat under the Godswood tree."May I join you?" The voice belonged to the Prince Aemon, a trusted and dear family member.

A very dear member of the House of the Dragon, to Aelena, at the least. She liked Aemon, a little more than she liked Daeron. She knew that it was wrong to fancy her eldest brother and her older cousin, but she cared little for what Baelon and the High Septon cared, she was a Targaryen. She was a direct descendant of the Conqueror, his seed. She was a part of the dynasty of the Dragon. She was a dragon.

"I see not a reason for you to not join me, I am quite lonely these days."She whispered to him in a hushed tone, letting him know to be quiet while Aenor sleept in her arms."Come, sit, I promise, neither of us bites. If you wish to be loud, he can cry, though."

Aemon chuckled quietly and sat next to Aelena, a crimson color starting to form on his pale cheeks as Aelena started to hum a Valyrian song that the late Queen, Aella, would sing to Aelena and Elaena. He smiled to himself and started to sing, along with her."Tell me, how do you feel about Baelor and Naerys being, probably, made into an arranged marriage?"

"What? You can not be serious!"She burst out into a laughting fit, carefull not to wake Aenor as she tried to steady herself. Aelena motioned for the three of her handmaidens, Sara Tyrell, Lyria Stark and Myra Sand. "Could you take care of Aenor for me, put him in his crib, Myra?"Aelena asked the eldest of the three, knowing that she knew how to handle babies.

Myra had two children of her own, Nymeria and Dorcan Sand, she named them. She used to work in a brothel, so she knew not of the father of Dorcan, but she knew of Nymeria's father. Lord Velaryon was his name, he took her in the midst of a street while she was getting suplies for the kitchen of the Red Keep.

Sara and Lyria were the high-born Ladies from the Reach and the North, they were the daughters of the Lords Lyonel Tyrell of Highgarden and Cregan Stark of Winterfell. Aelena was rumored to have taken them as was the duty, as Cregan helped her grandmother from her father's side, the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, in the Dance, and Lord Lyonel's mother, the Lady Tyrell had been a very kind member and suporter of the Princess Aenora Targaryen, the daughter of the Old King, Jaehaerys I Targaryen. And that she took the Dornish bastard in her service because of pity.

"Of course, my Princess."Myra had whispered as she held the little bundle of joy named Aenor in her arms."My Princess, my Prince."She and the rest of the ladies bowed and left to attend the duties that Aelena had given to them.

"I must say, I did not expect for you to be here, cousin."Aelena smiled at Aemon trying her hardest not to blush a deep red color as he smiled a sweet and charming smile, his eyes glinting with happiness."But, whilst on the topic of Baelor and Naerys, I rather do think that they would make a good match, considering that the both of them share a very . . . devoted . . . love for the faith of the Seven. Other than that, I can hardly see a thing why they shall be arranged into a marriage, besides, I do think that Baelor could not handle being in the same bed as his kin, in that way, that is. I wish not to speak ill, but, it is the way that it is."

"Oh, well, Naerys tells me of how you love to be near the Godswood, she oft speaks of you, you know, I do think that I know every detail about you by now, Princess."Aemon was just so charming, for a boy of ten and three, he was a pretty thing. The year 153 AC had been a tragic year, so far. The Queen died in childbirth, and the Princess Elaena Targaryen had caught a terrible fever, it was so harsh, the Realm had prayed for her health.

"My brother says that I have been a Princess my whole life, that I never had a chance at being a commoner, he was right, of course, but."Aelena tried to make a joke, but she never got a laught from Aemon."I hear from Naerys that you constantly go and visit the smallfolk . . ."Her voice trailed away, a tone of seriousness fading as the wind carried her smooth whispers away into the sky.

"Then by all the means, let us go and change our clothing, we can not go like this into the city, someone might of recognise us."Aemon got up quickly from the ground, his heavy armour clamoring as he did so."We can not have the most beautiful Princess in the Seven Kingdoms just run around like a commoner. It would be a scandal that the King would never let you get away with."He smirked and winked at her as he helped her up from her seat under the tree, walking away with her arm linked into his, leading her towards her chambers.

───────────────────────

    ¤─¤  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑 around the Red Keep, Aelena had never seen, she did not knew of the dungeons and secret hallways that was built into the walls of the Keep that had been constructed by Maegor the Cruel. She suspected that it was the King Maegor who built the secret path and the staircases that she and Aemon had been walking upon for half an hour. Her legs were starting to hurt, she never climbed and jumped so much in her life, she counted over three thousand stairs, which was a lot.

"Aemon, where are we going?"Aelena laughted into the air as Aemon held her hand and tugged her."Is that a rat chasing a cat?"Her confusion was clear to the both of them, as a rat, the size of a banana started to chase a small kitten. Aelena paused and went to grab the kitten as it came to her legs, meowing and calling for help.

"Put the kitten down, dear, we both know that it's probably full of fleas."

Aelena did as Aemon told her, letting out a sound of annoyance as she did, and put the kitten away from her hold to do what it wished."You still haven't answered any of my questions, my Prince Aemon."

"You said that I went to the lower city, some time,"Aelena smiled at him, and he felt like he could not breathe, as if the air had been taken from him, just before he could take it."and so, I could not help myself, but think of it as if you wished for me to take you to the city . . . If it is what you want, we may return to the castle, cousin."

"No, I just wished to be dressed in a dress, rather than these, dirty, ugly scandalous cloths."It was his turn to smile, as she always made him smile.

They moved quickly, and throught the darkness of the night, their bodies close, and their hoods pulled over their beaufitul, silver hair. Beauty was not the thing that the blood of Old Valyria lacked.

"Careful now, my dear Princess, for the sewers of Flea Bottom are not made for the ones who love lace and adore gold."Aemon pulled her close, their bodies touching and kept close by his strong hold, his head bowed so that the Goldcloak would not see him.

He placed a gentle, soft finger on her lips, in an attempt to quiet her down.
It was a hard thing, to shut up the Princess Aelena, for she loved to talk, and to sing, as Elaena and Naerys danced around her. The memory of her beloved sister and dearest cousin brought a shine in Aelena's eyes.

She licked her lips, letting the wetness  of her tongue water the two rosy lips, and then battled her eyelashes at him, as if she were trying to look innocent. "Lace is a rare thing that I despise, for it makes my skin itch, and I despise gold, for it looks too vulgular upon my light features, and it is too heavy for my neck, silver and bodice are the ones that I favour over gold and lace."

Aemon tilted his head, with a smirk forming on his face, and a curious look in his eyes."Is that so, Princess?" He leaned over, and blew hot air into her eyes, causing for them to flutter like the wings of the dragons that the Targaryens used to ride, and for her cheeks to turn into a fit of red colour.

"Yes, my dear Dragonknight."Her voice was the same as the warmth of the silken sheets on a cold, winter morning."And, I think, that you should also never wear gold, for it will give you such a scandalous look, and the scandalous looks are never welcomed in the King's court."