C U R I O S I T Y | Aemond Targaryen

F I F T Y - E I G H T

Cordelia's P.O.V.

"Darling- Hey, honey!"

Over the loud chatter within the First Men's bar and grill, a slurring voice grabs my attention, causing me to freeze in my tracks. It's been a rather busy and intense work shift for me, but at least I know the tips from tonight will be worth it. Turning my gaze in the direction I heard the drunk spoken pet names, I see a man in a jersey wave a hand over his table and holler to me. 

"Another round for the table!"

"You got it." 

I flash a smile at the gentleman and his friends; them being one of the tables I've been serving all night, then head straight to the bar counter. Due to Sunday Night Football, college students starting their Thanksgiving break, and the regular bar crowd, the building is terribly jammed with customers. Moving to get out of a couple's way as I reach the counter, I grab five clean shot glasses and the whiskey bottle the table has been asking for all night. 

As I pour the amber liquid into the shot glasses, the sharp smell of whiskey mingles with the scent of greasy bar food and the lingering aroma of spilled beer. The blaring sound of football commentary blends with laughter and rowdy exchanges, the buzz around the restaurant so loud I can barely hear myself think. Despite the drunk chaos and my ears bleeding from all the noise, it's actually been a good night for me. Nothing has gone wrong and every drink order has been easy enough.

... Leave it to football fans to order the simple beers and shots.

"Cordelia! Targaryens are here for you again." 

One of the bartenders calls out over the commotion surrounding us while grabbing a few tall beer glasses. Nodding his head in a certain direction, he fills the glasses with light beer and sends a knowing look my way. I finish off the last shot glass, then put the whiskey bottle away, and yell over the chaos of the place with curiosity.

"Which Targaryens?"

"All of them."

My eyebrows raise in surprise, not prepared for all of them to visit me on my shift tonight, and move to make three more drinks that I know by heart. When I prep the last glass and gather all the drinks on a tray, I carefully make my way over to the table full of football fans. I'm quick to hand off all the shots to the group of guys, nodding when each one slurs their thanks, and leave for the table that usually holds at least one Targaryen son.

What in the world would make all of them come see me on my most hectic work shift?

The second I see the table of Targaryens, their unspoken favorite table in my area, I shake my head and sigh tiredly. Aegon is shouting comments and making hand gestures at the football game on the screen near his table, just like he would when he's watching a game at home in the livingroom. Daeron is typing something on his phone, probably texting his girlfriend, while Aemond glances around the bar with his thumb tapping on the table.

When Aemond notices me moving through the crowd towards his table, his jaw ticks and his brows scrunch, almost as though he's upset at the sight of me. Aegon is too engaged with the football game to notice me yet, and Daeron is still smiling at his phone like a lovesick idiot. The moment I approach the table, Aemond's stare hardens while his hand tapping on the table curls into a fist, and the sight has one brow of mine pop in confusion.

"Well, this is different." I speak up, ignoring Aemond's conflicted expression, and set down their usual drinks in front of them. "What are you all doing here?"

"Woah... Delia, you look overworked." Daeron blurts the second he peers up from his phone, his eyes examining me in worry. Setting his phone on the table, he waves to the empty seat next to Aegon and suggests. "Why don't you sit down?"