Aemma Velaryon was the spitting image of her mother; she had pale silver hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. She was a Targaryen in all sense but her last name which she bore from her father Laenor Velaryon. She was the younger twin of Lucerys...
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Aemond flew over the snowy landscape of the North, Vhagar's massive body cloaking the white mass of land under them in shadowy darkness. His hands felt frozen solid despite his thick gloves, and the wind bit harshly at his cheeks. He spared Daeron a glance, watching the way he seemed to enjoy the cold wind. Tessarion flew silently, Aemond thought. Or perhaps the sound of Vhagar beating her heavy wings drowned out any other sound.
The flight had taken the entire day, both dragons landing outside Winterfell's massive granite gate as the sun began to set. Winterfell was much bigger than Aemond could have imagined; it was five times larger than the Red Keep and much prettier. As Aemond and Daeron approached the gate, he could catch a glimpse of another set of towering granite walls that contained another gate. The walls were at least eighty feet high with flags bearing the Stark sigil; a grey direwolf on a white banner.
"My Princes." The guards bowed deeply, sharing a look between each other that did not go unnoticed by Aemond. "Lord Stark did not tell us we would be hosting you."
"We have come as envoys, sent by the King himself." Aemond narrowed his eye. "You would not be so foolish as to turn us away just because of a surprise visit, would you?"
"Of course not, Your Grace." The guard stammered. "Open the gates!"
The gate raised slowly, more than likely powered by guards that resided in the tower. It squeaked endlessly, a sound that annoyed Aemond nearly as much as the cold. Daeron could sense his brother's foul mood and gently clapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't be so sour, Aemond. Just think, Aemma is on the other side of those gates waiting for you. I can just picture the reunion 'Oh, Aemond my beloved! These months without you have been so bleak. Take me!'" Daeron had raised his voice to try and imitate Aemma's. "I wonder if you'll keep the eyepatch on. You don't keep it on, do you? I would find that very off-putting if I were a woman."
Aemond glanced at his brother, his face a mix between amusement and disgust. "She does not sound like that."
"You didn't answer my question!" Daeron threw his arm over Aemond's shoulders as they walked. "Is that a yes?"
"No." Aemond rolled his eye as Daeron's jaw fell open. "Close your mouth before I shove the eyepatch down your throat."
"You're just so broody all of the time, I didn't think you were capable of losing yourself in the woes of passion." Daeron wiggled his eyebrows. "Shall we expect a child to start running around the Keep?"
"Now is not the time to be speaking of such things." Aemond removed Daeron's arm as they waited for the second gate to be pushed open after crossing the drawbridge. He watched the way his breath clouded in the air and frowned. He decided that he hated the cold in that very instant.
"We never speak of such things! I would much rather hear about Aemma than all of Aegon's conquests." Daeron sighed.
"Never say that again." Aemond glared at his younger brother. He said nothing more as they walked through the gates of Winterfell.
