Blood of Old Valryia (Aemond Targaryen FF)

Chapter Fifteen

"If your intention is to sulk, then your presence is not required here." Aemond's voice was sharp as he spoke over the biting cold wind.

Rhaenyra's words continued to echo in her mind, tainting every moment she shared with him. She couldn't shake off the feeling that their stolen kisses, as passionate and intense as they were, were nothing more than a tool for the Queen to further her own plans. Despite Aemond's assumption, she was not brooding, she was simply struggling to reconcile her growing feelings for him with the mounting evidence of his mother's manipulation.

Aesira playfully stuck her tongue out at Aemond as Sakaris swooped down, her wing dipping low enough for Aesira to catch a glimpse of him.

"I am not sulking," she clarified, "I am simply lost in my thoughts."

Aemond rolled his eyes, "Is there a difference?"

Without waiting for a response, he urged Vhagar upwards, soaring above the clouds, leaving the misty wisps below them. Aesira couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as she watched him go, she had been enjoying their flight below the clouds where the view was obscured and it felt like they were the only ones in the world. But she knew better than to argue with him, especially when he was in one of his moods.

Aesira had tried to convince herself that Rhaenyra's accusations were unfounded, that the Queen was not the type to engage in such machinations. But deep down, she couldn't shake off the nagging doubt that there may be some truth to Rhaenyra's words. She didn't want to believe that the Queen would manipulate her into supporting a scheme to overthrow Rhaenyra and install someone else as the chosen successor. She had always believed that the Queen was a fair and just ruler, but now she wasn't so sure.

Aesira resolved to keep an open mind and to observe more closely the Queen's actions and words. She would not be easily convinced or manipulated into supporting something that went against her own beliefs and values. She would not let herself be used as a pawn in someone else's game, regardless of who the intended beneficiary was.

"Lady Aesira." Aemond's disdainful tone cut through the clouds, and even though she couldn't see him, his words reached her with crystal clarity. The title irked her. It wasn't the title itself that bothered her, but the way it was used against her.

In King's Landing, it was used as a reminder of her station in life, the boundaries of her freedom and the expectations placed upon a woman of her birth.

On Dragonstone, it was used to set her apart and make her feel like an outsider. She wasn't common folk, but she wasn't a Princess of the Realm either, she was simply... a Lady. A title that felt like it didn't quite fit, and made her feel like she didn't quite belong.

Feeling increasingly irritated and frustrated, both by Rhaenyra's accusations and Aemond's sneering, Aesira urged Sakaris forward. The dragon's powerful muscles rippled as she picked up speed, her wings slicing through the air with a graceful ease.

Aesira knew that Caraxes held the title of the fastest dragon alive, but she was willing to bet everything she owned on it. The wind whipped through her hair and the thrill of the speed and freedom of the flight pushed everything else to the back of her mind. For a moment, she was able to forget her doubts and worries, lost in the exhilaration of the flight.

Vhagar soared overhead at a much more leisurely pace than Sakaris, gliding by close enough for Aesira to feel the heat emanating from the enormous dragon's body. The bronze-green scales of Vhagar glimmered in the light of the setting sun, creating a mesmerizing effect. Aemond's mount was a magnificent creature and it was not hard to see why he was so proud of her. Aesira felt a pang of envy, she knew Sakaris was fast and agile but she couldn't help but wish for a dragon as majestic as Vhagar.