ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀᴇʀ- ᴀᴍᴀʀᴀ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ x ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

[007]

[𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣]
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

—AMARA STOOD WITH HER FAMILY AT ONE SIDE OF THE HALL. She had not spoken to her siblings at all that morning - she was too busy with complaining to her mother and Daemon about why it was a huge mistake that they had been called to trial over what Rhaenyra's second eldest son, and third child had already been promised.

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds..." Otto Hightower stood by the Iron Throne, making his announcement. In King Viserys' illness, he and his daughter, Alicent, had been acting as though the kingdom were their own. Holding trails. Creating their own verdicts. Something that Amara was sure wasn't going to work in their favor.

"We gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters."

Amara looked away from Otto momentarily, to the opposite side, where Alicent stood with the rest of her family, and her eyes locked with Aemond's straight away. He seemed to stand tall and proud; happy with the fact that they were all having this conversation. This very public conversation about the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's heirs.

She looked away quickly, and looked back to Otto, "The Crown will now hear the petitions." He sat down on the throne. He had no right to associate himself with the throne at all. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Amara watched coldly as Vaemond took centre stage, the smug look that seemed a permanent fixture on the old man's face irritating her even more than it usually did.  

"My Queen. My Lord Hand," Vaemond smiled, causing Amara to roll her eyes at the niceness, "The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name," 

Amara closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a deep breath. Once she finally opened her eyes again, she looked towards Luke. Who appeared all but confident. Her heart bled for her brother.

"I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood, the true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins," 

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir," Her mother cut through Vaemond's speech before Amara had a chance to audibly groan at the man's antics, quick to defend her children,

"No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition," 

"You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra," Hightower spoke up, "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,"

A silence fell across the room, and when Vaemond turned to Rhaenyra, Amara had to fight everything inside of herself not to go and cut off his tongue at once. She deeply wanted to, and she would have no regrets if she did so. But she knew her mother and Daemon wouldn't be delighted by such manners.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood princess?" Vaemond asked Rhaenyra cheeky. Amara took a deep breath to calm herself down. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it." Spoke Vaemond to Rhaenyra. And Amara felt the anger twist in her stomach, but she remained calm.