Aella Targaryen wed on the anniversary of her father's death. To her cousin, nonetheless, continuing the long-standing tradition of her family to marry their relatives. It was a day that was meant to bring joy and overshadow the sorrow that had purs...
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Your only problem, perhaps, is that you scream without letting yourself cry
– Friedrich Nietzsche
°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°
Being back in the training yard of the Red Keep was refreshing. Aemon missed the sound of training swords clanking and men yelling out to one another as they sparred. Most of all, he missed Brynden and his easy charm. The red-haired heir of Raventree Hall greeted him that mourning with the broadest grin Aemon had ever seen him sport.
It took him only two minutes to challenge him to a spar. And so most of their morning was spent hacking at each other with swords, laughing and jesting together as they'd always done. Brynden had grown a few inches taller in Aemon's absence. It greatly irked him. He'd always been the bigger of the two. But now Brynden was taller, and his shoulders had grown wider.
"You've let yourself go," Brynden said in jest as he successfully hit Aemon with his dull training sword. "Did you stop training completely when you were away on Dragonstone?" Aemon rolled his eyes and pivoted on his heels, swinging his sword in a broad arch. A loud clanking sounded as it collided with Brynden's.
"There aren't many people to train with on that dreary island." Brynden raised a brow, and his grin widened. He sidestepped to avoid another one of Aemon's swings. Then with a moment so quick that Aemon barely registered it, he lunged forward and hit him in the shoulder. Aemon cried out as pain burst through his arm, but he shook it off and tried to focus.
"Aren't there? I could've sworn there was an entire garrison stationed at Dragonstone." The exaggerated doubt made Aemon want to laugh, but he surpassed the urge and swung at Brynden again. This time, his hit landed directly on Brynden's side. He sucked in a sharp breath and clutched his ribs with one hand. Then he sent Aemon a grin and positioned himself back into a fighting stance.
"They go easy on me," Aemon admitted, parrying Brynden's hit smoothly. "It got boring quickly. The only times I bothered with a spar was when Uncle Daemon came out with Dark Sister." Testing his steel against the legendary sword of Queen Visenya had been a thrilling experience. Of course, Aemon lost miserably and gained a few painful bruises, but he enjoyed it all the same.
"And what about Visenys?" The question made Aemon still for a moment, but it was enough for Brynden to get another hit on him. With a grimace, he stepped far enough away to get a clear view of Brynden and take in his stance and form.
