Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
"A blue flower awaits to be plucked, THE GARDEN WILL WITHOUT IT."
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THE HOURS HAD SEEMED LONGER since the evening that Stelsa had left. Despite everything that Aemond did to occupy his time, nothing seemed to be enough to distract him fully. His mother had been thrilled when he began to spend more time around his sister and her. Aemond had found himself not in the mood for conversation though — so he just sat there with a philosophy book in hand, not bothering to truly read the words on the page. How could he focus when his mind never ceased to drift to the dark haired girl who haunted him every second of every day? How was he to enjoy flying when the sky, no matter the time of day, reminded him of her eyes? The clouds in the early morning reminded him of the gray that tainted the deep blue and the stars at night reminded him of how hers twinkled whenever she was happy. How was he to enjoy training when he could practically feel her watching his every move since entering the courtyard?
How was he to enjoy anything when he enjoyed them most with her?
How was Aemond Targaryen to enjoy his time when he felt lied to? This whole time she had been a Stark. She had sat with his family, became close with his sister and her children, had slept in his own bed, and had lied to him this whole time. She was not just some guard's daughter.
She was a Stark.
Aemond found himself simultaneously filled with relief at that fact and filled with an agonizing feeling of betrayal. Why had she never told him before that day? How long had she known? Aemond was continuously tortured with these questions from the moment the sun rose to the moment it set. He could not enjoy the things he used to because of it. Worst of all? The only person who could fix all of this was gone.
Stelsa had vanished from Kings Landing and had taken everything except what mattered most — her memories. She could remove every piece of clothing she had ever worn, remove every flower she had touched, take all the books she had read, and all the dummies she had used in training and it still would not erase her from Aemond's mind. Stelsa would need to take apart the stones that held the Red Keep together, but even that might not be enough. She was everywhere.
Aemond was surrounded by her everywhere he looked. Everything he touched he was haunted by a memory of her. She had become such a vital part of his life, and she had just disappeared in the wind. He despised the wind for taking her away.
He despised the wind for not carrying any letters to him.
She had said she would write to him. She had said—
A knock on his bedroom door makes Aemond lift his head, watching as an older woman slowly steps into the room. Her weary green eyes found Aemond sitting at his table where he had stated he would eat alone. That he did. Every night since Stelsa had left. It is where he was free to let his mind roam, where he would recall every moment they had ever spent together to try to find where things had gone wrong.
