Aemond Targaryen lived to become a weak old man, withering in the cells underneath Dragonstone. One mistake caused a lifetime of pain.
Losing Baelon, was the start to the end of the Hightowers. But it wouldn't be the end of them.
Alys Rivers a wit...
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。.✦ ☾
Cahir Blackmont was just four when he was ripped away from his mother's arms, and forced into Dorne's garrison. From a young age he was trained daily with the spear, learning faster than any man in his camp. He grew hardened just like the rest of them, becoming a man who fought every day to be one step closer to his family.
The young knight only had a mother and a sister. A family he cherished and missed.
Cahir's father unfortunately died a year after his sister was born, leaving him the sole heir of his house, with nothing under his name, no gold and no glory.
He loved Dorne, but it was no longer safe for his small family, that was until the princess from Dragonstone called for every eligible warrior.
He was promised glory and titles if he stood as the young prince's companion. He wanted it all, that was until he fell for said prince. A pearl in the house of wolves.
There was no one more loyal than the black knight, who swore to lay down his life for the sweet prince.
....
Aemond watches from the benches as Cahir follows after Baelon through the gardens. He stands and silently meets him in the middle. "Baelon." Aemond greets, his fingers curling around the book in his grasp.
Baelon hums softly tilting his head as he peers up at him through his dark bangs. "Uncle." Baelon answers, handing Cahir his glass.
Aemond forces a small grin, ignoring the stare from the knight. "Join me, I was just about to begin my training down at the pit, it's been a few days." Aemond says
Baelon hums, slowly approaching the younger prince, his lashes fluttering as he watches him carefully. "It does seem I have been avoiding my duties of late, I will join you. Cahir I'll meet with you later." Baelon says, slowly stepping towards the knight, grabbing the glass, and drinking the rest of the wine while keeping his gaze on him, offering him a smirk once he's done.
Cahir watches him with heavy eyes, nodding.
Aemond looks between the two, fingers curling tightly into his palm. "Let's go Baelon." He orders, ready to physically grab Baelon if he has to. Jealous and anger curling in his gut.
....
Baelon and Aemond walk side by side, their shoulders brushing with every step, their hands just barely centimetres away. "What were you doing with my sister earlier?" Aemond asks, breaking the silence, retracting his hand.
Baelon smirks, biting his lip. "She's no fun. Don't worry uncle, she's loyal to her drunk husband." Baelon says with a eyeroll.
Aemond stops and he grabs Baelon's arm, forcing him to look at him. Baelon lifts an eyebrow. "You're being very brutish." Baelon teases, letting the younger manhandle him. He liked it, brought a chill down his spine.
