❝I am not a dragon, Aemond Targaryen. You may have claimed me as yours, but to think I'd bend that easily? That is beyond foolish.❞
⟼ Ayla Bolton & Aemond Targaryen: bound by marriage, strengthened by love, ignited by madness.
𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻𝘆 |...
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››family matters
Fifteen days after my betrothal, I soon found myself looking at my own reflection in a room that was way too big and cold for me. Mother said my duties as a wife had begun as soon as I was promised, and the Queen herself summoned my presence in the Red Keep to ensure her son and I 'the best of the marital lives', at least, according to the message she sent by crow a couple of days after the prince visited the Dreadfort. I doubt that is the real motivation behind her order, but who am I to question Your Highness' authority?
No one. Otherwise, I wouldn't have spent ten days on a ship headed into the unknown of my new life, feeling lonely and hopeless as I have never before. I spent the whole first day of navigation crying, locked up in my room where no one could have witnessed my vulnerable state.
I always took good pride in how much I was able to bear, in the way problems slipped on my skin, and in how there was nothing in this world capable of breaking me. I thought very highly of myself, I thought I was different, until I realized I was nothing but a pawn who got too comfortable in her spot, before being moved to reach the furthest goal.
A faint knock on the wooden door leaves me startling for a bit, I thought no one would have come looking for me before the next meal, leaving me enough time to realize I was really just arrived in my permanent home from now on. I was welcomed just like any other guest, with little to no pleasantries. My maid of choice blamed it on the time I got there, but it did not bother me, actually, I was kind of glad no one would have witnessed my poor mood.
"Come in." I said plainly, I should really pull myself together before any future attempt to bond with my spouse-to-be's family. A young maid carrying a black velvet package paves her way through the door, it must be heavy given the look on her face.
"From Prince Aemond, My Lady." I frown my brows lightly, as I watch the maid walking to the closest side table, carefully leaning the package on it. On a closer look, the velvet is finely adorned with tons of spiked red gems, its metallic clasp engraved with the Targaryen's coat of arms.
"Shall I serve you in some other form of way, My Lady?" I shake my head with the best of my gentle smiles etched on my face.
"No, I am all right, thank you." I dismiss her, trying to hide the rush in my voice. She can not be much older than me, and it is beyond my intentions to seem bossy. It still doesn't feel like it is my home yet. It still feels as absurd as it is: me, a young lady from a once-so-powerfull house being betrothed to the prince. I let my fingers scrape the velvety surface, feeling my digits tingle slightly whenever they run across a spiked gem. I fidget with the clasp that keeps it close with a bit of uncertainty, it was indeed an unexpected gesture, especially after the way I was greeted.
When I open the package, an unconscious smile pops on my face.
A bow.
The white polished limb is carved all around with intricate weaves and trails of words I can not really understand, I am unable to recall what kind of wood can be, but it is indeed magnificent. I raise one of the arrows that comes with it and I stare in disbelief at the black bullet point, so sharp I am afraid to cut the surrounding air at the slightest movement. I had never seen something like this before, both the arrows and the bow are so bold yet so lightweight, molding under my grip as they were made for me.
