After enduring a loveless marriage for many years, the Rogue Prince was believed to be incapable of fathering a child with his Bronze Bitch. However, a miraculous event shatters this notion with the birth of Vhaela Targaryen. Raised in the confines...
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Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Bronze Warriors
Vhaela Targaryen
My fingers move in an instinctive motion with each twist I give my hair. I bring the braid I have created from the frame of my face and guide it toward the back. There I connect it with the strand on the opposite side.
A heavy breath from behind me causes me to twist toward the culprit. There Aemond lays completely bare on his stomach with furs draped over his backside. The sight of him causes a small chuckle to release from my lips.
I then continue and head toward my freshly cleaned bronze chest plate. The shine reflects my presence as I stand over it. My hand leans down and runs over the hard armor that is littered with carved runes.
With a small smile, I then begin to secure the top half of my armor. I bring it up toward my chest and carefully begin to tie it against me. The movement causes a loud clang to echo throughout the room and sends Aemond bolting from our bed.
In a frantic state, he asks out. "What is it?"
I sheepishly meet his gaze and finish tying the strap from my amour. Aemond runs his hand along his face trying to wake himself up no doubt. It was extremely early and the sun was now just deciding to peek over the horizon.
At the state of my appearance, Aemond asks. "Where are you going?"
He shifts up immediately in the bed forcing his legs over the edge. I quickly head toward him not wanting him to pull himself out of bed on my account. I position myself between his thighs and place my hands on his cheeks.
"You know my men should be nearing. I told you I was going to meet up with them." I remind him gently knowing that he was displeased with my plan.
It has been a fortnight since we arrived at Harrenhal and the reinforcements I had called from my bannerman were soon arriving. By this time, they should be near the town of Saltpans which sits on the Bay of Crab just northeast of here.
Aemond's demeanor grows worrisome, and he quickly lets out. "Don't leave. Your men will be fine... it is too dangerous for us to separate. Who knows how many of the dragonseed roam the skies."
I heave out a sigh and stroke his cheek as I respond. "I understand your fear. I do. But Aemond we cannot live in a constant state of fear. That is not who we are."
I release my hold on him as I hear a heavy groan exit from his lips. His hands move up to the sides of my armor and his fingers delicately trace along the runes. I then run my hand up to the base of his neck and firmly force his head upwards to look my way.
His expression is somber as I weave my fingers through this straight hair. It turns my stomach at the sight. I hated seeing him so. With the capture of the capital, his confidence plummeted. He however kept his normal cocky appearance in front of our guards.
