━━━━ aegon targaryen ii.
she is not her father's daughter and he is not the prince that was promised. and with all the chaos brought by the dance started by their family, there is always each other.
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tw: mentions of miscarriage
Aether has been looking at her like she has committed the gravest of sins since she lowered her head so that Ser Criston can place the crown of blue roses sitting prettily on her hair. She can handle Daemian throwing a tantrum any day but she can't handle Aether acting out this way. Not even the plate of lemon cakes he is holding can loosen the tight expression on his face (it usually does), never missing a bite while glaring at her with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl. There are crumbs on his cheeks as he chews on a small portion of the cake, clinging to his skin like the constellation of freckles on the bridge of his nose and cheeks.
"Will you stop looking at me like that?" Aesira borderline pleads to her older twin brother. She glances around their area of the huge gardens. They are right on the other side of a glorious fountain spewing waterfalls from the statue on top. Again, it was Aether who pulled them here, lugging behind Damy under his arm like a sack of potatoes while balancing a plate of lemon cakes in his other hand. She spots Aegon craning his head in search of them and a couple of nobles asking around for the Queen of Love and Beauty, Aunt Alicent assuring them that she will come around while inconspicuously looking for them. She then goes back to meeting Aether's eyes, sighing under her breath at the sight of him being messy. "And you have crumbs everywhere on your face."
She reaches a hand to carefully wipe off the crumbs on Aether's face. He tries dodging it but with one stern look on her face, he's being as still as he can be, though that doesn't stop him from grumbling complaints under his breath.
"That's enough, Sira," Aether mutters with a hint of annoyance.
"If you minded stuffing your face with that much cake in very little time, I wouldn't be doing this," Aesira replies. "I don't have a say if someone crowns me as the Queen of Love and Beauty, Aether. You know that." She purses her lips when Aether doesn't make any sign to lose that scowl on his face. Aesira understands why Aether is acting this way. He has outright told the dinner table that he wanted the attention away from her and it didn't come true when Ser Criston crowned her. In fact, Aesira isn't the only one receiving these glares from Aether, Ser Criston is not that safe either. "Besides, you are worrying over the slightest thing. What happens if my betrothal is announced? Will you torment the people residing in the Keep as well? Or perhaps Aunt Alicent and Uncle Viserys for planning it?" She lifts her chin in the air and slightly widens her eyes in faux realisation. "I know. The person to receive the brunt of your anger could be my future husband, your future good brother."
"I'm trying to protect you from vultures and lions or whatever animal they have on their House sigil," is what Aether uses to retaliate. "What's wrong with that?"
"If that is your intention, thank you, Aether." Aesira nods to herself when Aether's face becomes devoid of the honey cake crumbs. "But don't direct your anger at me or the people who are just trying to help." Both of their purple eyes meet each other and the owner of the softer lilacs soften around the edges at the fire still flickering behind the pupils of the boy with gems for eyes. She takes the empty plate of honey cakes from Aether's hands and places them on the edge of the fountain. The smile on her face is only seen by Aether and Daemian, only a secret shared between the siblings knitted in a three-star constellation. Fondness moulds her body, pushing her to grasp Aether's hands in hers. "I know of their motives, Aether — Aunt Alicent has said it and I am not blind as well. Though I have some qualms about their advances, something tells me that my future has already been set."
