Nefarious || Aemond Targaryen

20

A fortnight has passed since Aemma had confronted Ser Criston, two and a half moons since her mother and brothers went back to Dragonstone. Ever since the confrontation, Aemma has been much better, she no longer missed out on meals, no longer spent her time sulking in despair. For once, she was truly back to normal, as if a weight had been lifted off of her chest and she could finally breath.

Not to mention that the King's health had taken a turn for the better and he was now able to join his family for meals and walk around. He still used a cane for support, but nevertheless, now had the strength to walk, only requiring assistance occasionally. His pain has subsided substantially as well, he no longer required milk of the poppy to get through the day.

Ever since the King began to come back to his senses once again, Aemma noticed that the air in the Red Keep had changed. It were as if the tension and hostility were at an all time low and were replaced by a sense of unity.

The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and animated conversations. The dining room, once a battlefield of awkward silences and strained interactions, now buzzed with a newfound sense of ease and warmth. It was a family dinner unlike any before, where the invisible barriers that had once divided them had crumbled, making way for a genuine connection that transcended any past awkwardness.

The table, adorned with a meticulously arranged feast, served as a centerpiece for the blossoming camaraderie. As they gathered around, the clinking of cutlery against porcelain resonated like a joyful symphony, setting the stage for a culinary journey that mirrored the flavorsome bond they were about to savor.

Gone were the forced smiles and stilted small talk. Instead, the air hummed with genuine interest and heartfelt stories. Each member of the family contributed to the tapestry of conversation, their words flowing freely and effortlessly. They shared anecdotes, tales of triumphs and setbacks, and the dreams that had stirred within them. It was a collective narrative that wove them together, like threads binding a quilt of shared experiences.

Laughter danced through the room, its infectious melody drawing smiles that reached the corners of their eyes. It was a laughter born not out of politeness, but from a place of true delight and understanding. Aemma reveled in the joy of shared humor, the punchlines punctuating the air with a resounding burst of mirth. With every chuckle, the weight of past discomfort dissolved further into the ether, leaving only the lightness of genuine connection.

The food itself seemed to reflect the transformed atmosphere. Each dish, carefully crafted and infused with love, served as a catalyst for deeper bonds and appreciation. As Aemma savored each bite, the flavors lingered on her tongue. The clinking of glasses accompanied heartfelt toasts, honoring not just the nourishment on our plates, but the newfound harmony that graced their family.

Time seemed to stretch, granting us an extended moment of bliss. They exchanged knowing glances, relishing the simple pleasure of being together without pretense or masks. In that sacred space, they discovered the beauty of acceptance and forgiveness. The scars of past misunderstandings had faded, replaced by an unspoken agreement to embrace each other fully, flaws and all.

As the evening drew to a close, contentment settled over the room like a soft embrace. The remnants of the sumptuous meal remained, serving as a reminder of the feast of connection we had shared. We rose from the table, hearts full and spirits lifted, carrying the newfound harmony within us.

Aemma took a deep breath before standing up, her cup in hand. "Before retiring for the night, I would like to make a toast." she began. "First and foremost, I would like to toast to the King, my grandsire, for being able to join us this evening for dinner. I am glad to see your health has gotten better."