𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄 ~ aemond targaryen (discontinued)

2 ~ Green ~ 2

Dressed in the pretty greens of the Queens house, I hitched up the rich skirts of my dress, chasing the steps. Alicent had initially protested to sharing her colours with me. So had I, but the king insisted, determining the colour in which I was clad would display a symbol of unity within the family.

I knew the whispers sneered my way would not end, their tone would not change. Like my half-sister Helaena, I seemed to own a talented intuition. Dressed in green or red, no costume could disguise my bastard status. No one could look at my red hair and green eyes, my tan skin and associate me with the king. It couldn't be blamed, I carried my mothers genes more than my fathers. Perhaps a mercy considering his poor health.

Father and his Hand, Lyonel, were sat at the summit of the stairs, watching the boys, my brothers and nephews, sparring below. Right where I knew I would find them.

In his chair, the King peaked from behind Lyonel's belly, aware of my entrance, and smiled with that same warmth he offered all his children. The entire realm may have known me as a bastard, but my father was the one soul who treated me no differently for it.

"Khaelyra," he sang his greeting, and I returned his sweet smile, moving to stand by his side after placing a swift kiss on his cheek. "They have only just begun; you haven't missed much."

Joining my father to watch the boys train was slowly becoming a routinely thing. I stood as audience whenever I wasn't busy learning how to embroider and weave silly tapestries retelling the story of my family, the Targaryens.

"Perfect." I clasped my hands, straightening my posture. Truly, the view from this vantage was perfect. Here I could observe the lesson with ease and listen in on Ser Criston Coles instructions well enough. Even if I was denied partaking in the fun, I would still learn and rehearse in the evening within the hidden privacy of my own chambers. It did not match the experience gained from sparring with a partner, but I could hardly complain when at least I had managed to smuggle away one of the older, chipped wooden swords without anyone noticing its desertion.

Many nights, when I had grown tired of whacking at bedposts and curtains, I had debated sneaking off to Aemonds room and taking him up on his offers of helping me train. But the corridors were dangerous at night, even with the guards patrolling. Especially with the guards patrolling. Many people, including my own step-mother, wanted me gone; to simply disappear without a trace. And although the lock on my door wasn't invincible, it was a lot safer than sneaking around through the darkness of a busy palace.

If Aemond and I were to spar, it would have to be in the daylight. An impossible task since both our schedules were always full- our only time spent together being when they overlapped- and if I were caught with a blade, I, a girl, would be punished.

It was a ridiculous standard to deny a woman the skill of combat when in everyday life, even outside of war and battles, we faced more life threatening foes and dangers than men. The majority of those dangers being men themselves.

Perhaps that is why they deny us- so they don't risk meeting the unfavourable end of a blade each time they decided to use their strength on us.

The King croaked out a cheer for Aegon as he hacked at the straw mannequin in three choppy swings.

"How are you feeling today, Father?" I side glanced at him, noticing his pallid complexion layered with a thin sheen of sweat, even in the cold.

His hair seemed thinner this week, skin looser and sagging, his eyes smudged purple with exhaustion.

My Father wheezed out a cough almost as an unintentional answer. "Perfectly well now that you have joined my company, dear." He must have been able to read the concern on my face because he took my hand and squeezed, a gesture to tell me not to worry.