𝙺𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽 ° aemond targaryen

Act Two, Scene Three

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"𝙽𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚠𝚜"
𝟷𝟸𝟾 𝙰𝙲 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙
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IF THERE WAS ONE PLACE that the younger of the two Velaryon boys didn't feel welcome, it was King's Landing. Anywhere Lucerys looked, he felt as though all eyes were on him and his brother, even if for just a fleeting moment.

     Jacaerys seemed to catch on to how his younger brother wasn't quite paying attention to what he had been saying. "What's your problem?" He questioned, picking up a small blade from the table.

     Turning back to his brother, the boy of ten and four let out a sigh, lowering his voice down. "Everyone's staring at us."

    The elder didn't seem to catch how uneasy the boy truly was, pointing the blade jokingly at Luke with a smile. "Hyah." A smile graced the boy's features before he turned away, waving the blade around as he studied it.

     Glancing around once again, the brother took a step closer to the oldest Velaryon. "No one would question me being heir to Driftmark," The boy looked around again as people passed the pair, gathering in a small circle nearby. "If I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon...than Ser Harwin Strong."

     Jace finally let out a soft sigh, placing the blade down and turning to his brother with a more serious look. "It doesn't matter what they think."

     The boy of fourteen took a deep breath, seemingly standing up straighter at his brother's words. But the sound of metal hitting a shield caught their attention, the crowd that had gathered mere feet away cheering at whatever they had been watching.

     Giving the younger a light smack on his chest, Jace rushed over to join the circle, the younger of the two right behind him. The had barely been able to see over the people gathered, standing up slightly on their toes to get a look.

     A halo of white hair fanned out around one of the men, indicating the Targaryen lineage of the man who battled an all too familiar Criston Cole. A look of awe was spread across the elder's face as he watched every move the knight made with his ball and chain. Criston swung with confident force, though his opponent was quick to throw up his shield, splinters of the wood going flying and forcing the Targaryen to his knees.

     If Jacaerys had to guess which of his uncles this was, he would more than likely place his bets on Aegon, seeing as the boy had shown promise in their shared training sessions.

     The white haired boy threw his broken shield aside. Following its movements, the eldest Velaryon saw as it landed near the feet of a girl who shared similar features to the dueling boy. Though her loose hair covered her face from his view, Jace figured that had to be his aunt, Helaena, seeing as she had been married to Aegon nearly three years ago now.

     His gaze was drawn back to the fight as his uncle rose from his knees, swinging his sword wildly at the knight. Ser Criston dodged every attempted hit, even delivering a swing of his own which the prince easily dodged. The two circled each other, the Targaryen's identity now in view of Rhaenyra's sons.

     A black eyepatch covered one of his eyes.

     Both Velaryon boys felt their hearts drop, sharing a nervous look with one another before facing towards the fight once more. Their uncle, who could hardly swing a sword last they knew, was easily maneuvering out of the way of Criston's attacks.

     Aemond was quick in blocking one of the man's swings, disorienting the knight for just long enough to get his sword to his neck. The crowd that had gathered starting celebrating in the prince's victory, even Ser Criston, who dropped his flail to applaud.

     The white haired man tapped the knight with his sword, bringing it back down to his side as he made his way to the edge of the circle. Towards the girl, who was clapping her hands together lightly.

     "Well done, my prince," Criston called to him, looking proud at how far he had come since they began their training. "You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

     Aemond seemed uninterested in the knight, his eyes staying on the girl as he lifted his hand to rest on the right side of her neck. Yet, he still responded, not even sparing a glance at the older man.

     "I don't give a shit about tourneys," He said smoothly, brushing his thumb against the woman's cheek. "Nephews."

     The brothers felt as eyes in the crowd turned to them, though neither of their gazes left the prince. It was after a mere moment that the Targaryen boy turned to look at the pair, causing the girl to do the same.

     A faded, red slash decorated the right side of her face.

     Jacaerys could feel his heart drop once more, especially as the girl's eyes met his. Her icy eyes made him feel rooted into his spot, and he couldn't help but feel the dread and regret crawling up his spine.

     "Have you come to train?"

Before either boy could come out of shock enough to respond, the doors to the courtyard opened, causing all eyes to turn. Knights in silver armor matched through, leading none other than Vaemond Velaryon towards the keep. The man's cold eyes locked on Rhaenyra's sons, causing the younger of the two to gulp softly.

Vaella couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the older man, lifting her head to look up at her husband. His lips, too, were lifted, watching as the man made his way into the keep.

Rhaenyra's place in the kingdom was falling, and the arrival of the Velaryon man only made it that much clearer.

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