Their souls might have split upon their births, but they never stopped burning as one.
Aemma and Aemond were meant to live together, die together, to burn as one.
But when war breaks out, they have to make a choice.
Is their hatred for each othe...
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Aemma sighed as she reopened her eyes. She couldn't sleep. Every time she would manage to close her eyes, she would open it again seconds later.
She couldn't even spent time with her only friend since she had forced him to get some rest because she thought that she was exhausted. Which she was.
Aemma sighed again and stood before walking across her chambers. But there was nothing exciting to do.
And that noise. She was becoming crazy. For hours, the same noise was keeping her from sleeping but she was incapable of finding out where it was coming from.
She had looked under her bed, under her desk, behind the shelf, but nothing.
" For fuck's sake.." she whispered and she got dressed.
She hated it here. She just wanted to fly back to Dragonstone and stay there forever.
She opened her door and sighed when she saw that Trystane wasn't there.
Of course he wasn't you stupid girl. You commanded him to rest. Aemma wasn't sure what to do. She had been sharply warned about how dangerous the keep ironically was, and she couldn't ignore the way men treated her since she had returned.
The only one whose gaze had remained on her eyes was surprisingly Otto Hightower. Even Aemond's eye had been stuck on her breast during dinner.
" Fuck it." She whispered as took a candler and the dagger Daemon had got her on her last name day before leaving her room.
She wanted to know where this fucking noise was coming from. She had to make it stop. It was driving her crazy.
She had figured that it was coming from the outside since the noise had gone louder when she had opened her window so she decided to find the person that was making her night impossible and crossed the silent hallways before opening a door and walking towards the noise.
Aemma frowned when she realized that it was coming from the training yard and she frowned even more when she heard someone mutter.
The young princess' eyes widened when she saw the source of the noise.
She almost dropped the candler when she realized that the person that was keeping her from sleeping was the very same person who also kept her from eating anything at dinner.
Aemond fucking Targaryen.
He was throwing his sword on one of the fake body they used as children to train. So he was the source of that fucking noise. Of course her room's window had to face the training yard instead of the gardens.
Aemma wanted to get back to sleep but she couldn't keep herself from staring at the prince.
The moonlight was reflecting on the sweat of the bare skin of his muscular arms, he was moving fast even if his opponent was no opponent.
