The Fire That Burns Within US - Aemond Targaryen

Don't Hold Back

136 - Red Keep (3 Months Later)

Aemond keeps his shield close to his face, his body is low, and his sword is ready to attack. He had the height advantage, but he isn't using it, instead staying low so that he can move around faster.

Visenya swings her sword down onto Aemond's shield. The Valyrian steel cuts through it with ease. She is smart enough not to use a lot of the blade, not wanting to hurt Aemond but showing him how useless shields can be when your opponent has a good sword.

Visenya pulls to the side with all her strength, happy as the shield comes off Aemonds arm but mad when the shield doesn't fall off her sword.

Now Aemond has a perfectly working sword, while hers is useless.

Aemond stands tall and swigs his sword toward Visenya. She avoids the swords with a smile, unlike Cregan; she isn't worried about the sword accidentally cutting or killing her.

Visenya takes a step toward Aemond after his sword passes her face, forcing her sword toward his face. The shield hits Aemonds shoulder and breaks apart. Visenya pulls the sword back before it can cut Aemond. She spins it in her hand as Aemond removes it from the hit, then she drops it.

Visenya rushes towards Aemond and tackles him to the ground, laughing as the two falls to the ground. A sharp pain surges through her shoulder as she does so. Before she can enjoy the moment or fully understand her pain, she unsheaths her dagger from her hip and points the tip under Aemond's chin.

"Yield," Visenya whispers to him, not caring for the small group of people watching them. If the Queen would see them now, Visenya is straddling Aemonds in front of many people, her hair blocking people from seeing their faces, and Aemonds hands the rest on her thighs.

"I yield," Aemond tells her, giving her a slight smirk before he brushes their lips together. "Mērī syt ao, ñuha perzys,"

Only for you, My Fire.

Visenya pulls away from him and moves off Aemond, sitting beside him as he stands up. He straightens his clothes, and the look on his face would not let anyone know what he is feeling inside. Aemond reaches his hand out for Visenya to take. She does, and pain shoots through her shoulder as he pulls her up.

Visenya lets out a soft groan at the pain and closes her eyes, moving her shoulder up and down to try and work out whatever she did to it. The movements worsen the pain, and she clenches her jaw to make any more noise.

"Issi ao ōdrikagon?" Aemond asks, the worry present in his voice to any who understands Valyrian but those who don't won't hear it.

"It's not your fault, My love. I think I am a bit out of shape," Visenya tells him as she smiles through her pain. Ben has already started making his way toward Visenya and Aemond, but he picks up his pace as he sees the pain on her face. The slight frown paired with her eyebrows bunched together.

"Let me see," Ben says as he gets close to her. Visenya takes her hand away from her shoulder, and Ben slightly pushes down on her shoulder Visenya holds back a moan of pain.

Aemond watches the two, no longer worried about Ben taking Visenya away from him in a romantic way. The grip on his sword is tight, and he takes a step toward the two, more worried that Visenya is seriously hurt.

"You should be fine, just no overworking it," Ben tells her as he moves his hands away. Visenya frowns and looks up at him.

"So, no training?" She asks. Since the wedding, Aemond and her have been training together, besides spending time in bed, with Ben getting back into shape.

"No training," Ben confirms as he moves away from the two. He has gotten better with Aemond about who gets to spend time with Visenya.

Visenya holds her shoulder as she turns back to Aemond. He is already looking at her, and she can pass what other people would think is anger in his eye, knowing he is more worried than angry. Visenya picks her sword off the ground as she walks closer to Aemond.

"I'm fine," She tells him, and he gently grabs hold of her arm, drumming his fingers against her red shirt.

"I should have been more careful. Not so rough," Aemond tells her in a low tone, not wanting the people around them to hear his words.

"No, because if you did hold back, I would have beaten you up for it," Visenya tells him. One of the first times they had trained together, Aemond tried to hold back, but Visenya beat him too fast. "Let's go again,"

"No," Aemond says. He and Ben might have their differences, but if the knight says that she shouldn't train, then, Aemond would listen. "He said no training, so no training,"

"Here I thought you would love to go against his word," Visenya jokes, she has been restless lately, and training seems to be one of the jew things that can get through. "I have fought in battle with worse injuries. I can continue to hold back and train with you,"

At her words, Aemond leans down, his hair brushing against Visenya's face. A playful smile on her face and a sadistic smirk on his. Their noses bump together at their closeness.

"You're holding back?" Aemond asks, his breath hot against her face, and Visenya holds back a laugh.

"I wouldn't want to harm my husband," Visenya answers as she kisses his cheek before stepping back from him. Aemond hums at her words, giving her a small smile at her words. Maybe the two will return to their room; he knows that Visenya would forget about training if they went to their room.

"Princess," A voice makes Visenya pull away from Aemond. Visenya smiles at Ser Harrold as he walks towards the two, a worried look on his face, and Visenya worries that something might have happened to the king.

"Ser Harrold," Visenya greets back.

"The dragon keepers have sent word that Morghon has landed, and he is not acting like he usually does," Ser Harrold tells Visenya. When word had come from the dragonpit, he had rushed to tell Visenya. He knows how much she cares for her dragon. "They are asking for you to go to the dragonpit at once,"

"Is something wrong with him?" Visenya asks, worried for her dragon, and it feels like she can not breathe. What if he is hurt? What if another dragon has attacked him? Or what if she is sick? "Do they think he is sick?"

"They did not say," Ser Harrold tells Visenya. He wishes they had said what was wrong with the dragon. He doesn't want to put Visenya through worry if nothing is wrong with Morghon. "Only asked for you to get there as soon as possible,"