Innocence// AEMOND TARGARYEN ✔️

Chapter Thirty-two

"Aemond Targaryen, you shouldn't have"

Eirlys' voice came out barely as a whisper, her soft and gentle tone seemed even more, well, soft and gentle and Aemond wanted to hear her speak some more; he liked the way his name sounded when it escaped her lips.

The princess' dainty hands held a sharp and dangerous weapon.

In her grasp was a skilfully crafted silver sword made of valerian steel.

Aemond had often observed, even as children, how engrossed she seemed while she watched him train with the sword. Her eyes lit up and she observed them with wonder and fondness. She did not conceal her eagerness to train alongside them, it was evident with her constant pleading as a child. Yet the only thing she was permitted to training with was the bow and arrow.

'A lady needn't learn the art of swordplay' Viserys had told her when she was little 'I have the best of knights stationed at your service should you need protection'

Another reason Aemond trained so conscientiously. He wished to be highly skilled so that he might be worthy enough of being her protector.

Yet, despite the given assurances, Eirlys still desired to learn the skill for herself.

Aemond was more than willing to teach her but for that, she would need a sword of her own.

The blade had a beautiful engraving of a dragon, and for its handle was a carving of the tail of a hippocampus, the sigil of Velaryon, wrapped around it. On the flip side of the blade were the words 'zaldrīzes āzma isse iā sōna jelmāzma, perzys ēza rhēdan suvion' engraved.

As Eirlys read it out loud, a small smile danced on her lips.

Aemond liked the way she sounded when she spoke in high valerian. He liked the way she sounded when she simply spoke. The language did not matter. She could utter a stream of profanities directed at him and he would lean in and kiss her when she was done.

The prince was whipped.

"A dragon born amidst a snow storm" he translated, even though she understood it quite well "fire meets ice"

"Poetic" she turned to face him, holding the blade with utmost care as if she was afraid she might damage it when in turn, it was the blade that could cause damage to her.

"'Tis not simply poetry" the prince told her, casting a quick glance at the unsheathed sword in her hand, making sure she wasn't cut yet "it's a reference, to a prophecy"

"A prophecy?" Eirlys tilted her head slightly with wonder "what sort of?"

"I was reading to father a long time ago, he tends to say things at random due to his illness" he explained "this one time, he began to say something that seemed well rehearsed to be just another rant. I asked him about it, he seemed rather cross I interrupted him. But then once he was done, he told me it was Aegon's dream"

"Aegon's dream?" Eirlys asked with brows furrowed "you picked a quote in reference to your brother's dream?"

"What- no" Aemond seemed to be offended at the notion. Why would he take the trouble to craft something for her that referenced his drunken brother? "Aegon the conqueror. Father spoke of a prophecy. He yet again confused my name with another; Rhaenyra's this time"

"What did the prophecy state?" The girl asked as she reached for the sheath.

"I do not know it word for word like the way father does" he admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck "but it does state a coming of something dreadful along with the winter and how only a dragon might vanquish it. I believe he used the phrase 'a song of ice and fire' Who do I know that is both dragon-fire and snowdrop?"