Blood of Old Valryia (Aemond Targaryen FF)

Chapter Nine

"Where are the princes, Uncle? I've been here all of three days and have yet to see any of my cousins." Aesira asked, snagging a lemon cake from the table between them.

The vibrant greens and yellows of the flowers and foliage of the gardens stood in stark contrast to the red hues of the Keep itself, creating a striking and beautiful contrast.

After her eventful morning in the dragonpit, the King had invited her to have tea in the Keep's Gardens. They'd spent most of the afternoon talking about he's short time as a dragon rider—having lost Balerion a year after the King had claimed him. And when the conversation had waned from talks of Balerion to talks of Vhagar, she realised how little she'd seen of her cousins.

Aesira looked forward to her visits to the Red Keep, especially because of the special tradition she shared with Aemond. As soon as she arrived, Aemond was the first to come knocking on her door, eager to spend time together. Their tradition was to spend hours hidden away in the vast library, tucked between the shelves, away from the watchful eye of the Queen who seemed to always loom over Aesira's every move.

During their time together, they taught each other their respective languages. Aesira taught Aemond the intricacies of High Valyrian, while Aemond returned the favor by teaching her the Common Tongue. As they laughed and learned, they also found solace in being able to escape the demands of court and the expectations placed on them as members of the royal family.
But their time together in the library was not only about language and hiding from the Queen, it was also about the bond of family and friendship. They talked about everything and anything, and Aesira always felt at ease with Aemond. Even though she spent most of her time with the King, or with the Dragonkeepers, she always made sure to reserve some time for her dear cousin, because their tradition was not just a tradition, it was a cherished part of her visit.

"It was Aemond's fourteenth name day last week. Aegon took him into King's Landing to celebrate and has been in his room recovering ever since." The King rolled his eyes, uncaring and uninterested. Until a smile bloomed on his face, "But your twelve name day is in a few weeks. Do you have any plans?"

Aesira smiled as the King asked about her plans for her name day, knowing that she needed to come up with something quickly. "I plan to have a better saddle for Sakaris commissioned," she giggled, trying to sound excited. It wasn't a complete lie, as Aesira did plan to have a new saddle made for her dragon, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

In reality, Aesira had no specific ambitions or plans for her name day. She knew that she would spend it with Rhaenyra and her cousins on Dragonstone, perhaps even sending for Baela to join them. She had always found smaller, intimate affairs more appealing than grand and elaborate celebrations. The thought of spending quality time with her family and loved ones was all she needed to feel content.

Aesira couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as she realized that she had completely forgotten about Aemond's recent name day. She knew that on Dragonstone, it was unlikely that anyone would have mentioned it or even remembered it themselves, given the current animosity between the factions. But still, it would have been nice to know, to be able to send a message of congratulations or at least to show some kind of concern for her cousin.

As Aesira reflected on her forgotten cousin's birthday, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She realized that his birthday would have fallen around the time she had sent her last letter. The one that he hadn't responded to. She couldn't help but wonder if her neglect to mention his birthday in the letter had something to do with his lack of response.

"If it is a new saddle you want then it is a new saddle you shall have." The King rose to his feet, "Walk with me, little one."

"I'm not little anymore, Uncle." Aesira protested as the King referred to her as such. "I'm almost a woman-grown now." She emphasized as she pushed out of her chair and strode around the table. The sound of the wrought iron chair scraping against the stones echoed through the garden.