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...
"Each of them were too blind to see the dragon's fire that was hidden BEHIND THE MOUNTAIN OF ICE."
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AEMOND COULD NOT SAY he disagreed with the grumble of distaste that left Vhagar shifted as she shifted, turning away from the meat he had wheeled out to the field for her. It was not in a dragon's nature to be cold, especially one that liked to sunbathe most of her days away. Aemond watched as the large she-dragon lowered her head, allowing him to press his bare palms against her warm scales. Despite it being so cold that Aemond could see his own breath, he found that fire that lingered between himself and Vhagar to be enough to warm him. He took his palm away from her and watched as her amber eyes transfixed on something behind him.
The Targaryen prince turned to watch as his wife-to-be emerged from the gates, her cloak wrapping itself around her frame to keep her warm from this Gods-forsaken cold they stood in. Aemond spared Vhagar one last glance as she turned away to look at the meat, grumbling in dissatisfaction. He moved away to let the she-dragon grumble and moved to meet Stelsa halfway. "What is wrong?" Stelsa questioned him, her gloved hand reaching up to take hold of his arm as they turned to face the giant dragon together.
"She detest the cold." Aemond muttered, watching as Vhagar lowered her snout towards the meat she had been offered. Perhaps she would stop pouting and finally eat, Aemond thought as she continued to poke at it. "I cannot say I disagree with her." He added as he turned back to the woman pressed to his side, despite how open of an area they stood in. Aemond knew the guards were watching, hands readied to storm out onto the field should anything happen.
"I suppose when you are made of fire such an environment is not for the weak." Stelsa sighed, glancing up at Aemond who continued to stare down at her. "What?" She questioned and Aemond could not help but grin.
"Perhaps I would enjoy the cold more with a woman born from it lying beside me." Aemond could not help but take the moment to poke fun at her — the very woman he had tried to steal away beneath the furs of his own bed since that fateful night. He had not wanted to let her leave. His hands continued to grip at her flesh and tug her close every moment she tried to separate from him.
Stelsa's cheeks slightly reddened at Aemond's comment, but she simply squeezed his arm and did not comment on it. Her gray eyes watched as the she-dragon began to eat the meat she had been provided. "Does she care for certain meats over others? Pigs over deer? Cows?" Stelsa quietly questioned as she watched Vhagar throw down the animals that seemed so small compared to her mouth.
"I can only assume she prefers animals with more meat. Cow. Deer." Aemond hummed, his hand traveling down to the small of her back. His fingers toyed with the beading of the dark gray dress she wore. For a moment, he became distracted by such antics.
