The Realms Rose | Aemond Targaryen / Daemon Targaryen

I

The Power Of Prophecy - Ramin Djawadi

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She was like a little bird when they first courted. She seemed innocent, naive, and unsure of the world. Today, she carries herself with such authority and confidence, it threw Aemond off.

His face was impassive, unemotional as ever, eye narrowed as he looked Aurora over, up and down, from head to toe.  Not once smiling as she was summoned into the council room, occupied by himself, Otto, Alicent and other members of the Kings council. He couldn't help but let his thoughts wander upon seeing her, how she was laid out so beautiful and ready for him earlier on, with her rosy cheeks and smooth golden skin.

These thoughts caused his body to betray him, his member twitching in his breeches.

Then, slowly, he turned his gaze upwards.  His lilac eye met hers, and held for a moment, neither blinking. Before he could speak, a storm within him began to brew.  The corners of his mouth began to curl up into something resembling a grin.

"My dear wife." He stood from his seat with haste, stalking over to the princess with lumbered steps, her heart racing and eyes widening at his agonisingly slow approach. "I hear you've had a rather eventful afternoon."

The Prince's tone was laced with amusement.  Indeed, there was irony in the very fact they were married at all; it was a marriage neither of them had truly wanted in his opinion, and yet, they were wed anyway.

"Indeed, I have." She looked down at her muddied and torn garments, her eyes blinking over at the Queen for a quick moment to study her expression.

Aurora's heart had started to race, and Aemond knew that just as well as he knew she did not care for his opinions on her endeavours.  Still, he had to at least try to act interested.

For my brothers crown.

He told himself.

His eye narrowed slightly as he took his time reaching her. Finally, he stood before her.

There was something different about Aurora today.  There was an air of boldness in her manner, a confidence she hadn't shown him before.

It was alluring.

Aemond's eye twinkled in amusement. Aurora was braver than she looked.  She didn't move when he came this close, and in fact looked him straight in the eye.

The Prince continued to hover over her, eye locked upon hers, then slowly, and deliberately, he extended his hand and slowly, ever so slowly, began to reach to touch her cheek.

Aurora flinched at the affectionate gesture. Not knowing her husbands touch beyond their duties in their marital bed.

His touch was gentle, surprisingly so, given his intimidating appearance and the way he looked at her. Aemond's touch was not unkind.  There was no malice, no cruelty, no anger in the gesture.  He did not grab at her face forcefully, but rather, he ran his hand along the side of her face, cupping her soft cheek.

To Aemond, this was a gesture of affection. A tactic to soften her into submission. To Aurora, it was foreign and frightening.  He couldn't blame her for that.

It was a small flinch, but he didn't miss it.  He froze for a moment, his hand half way to her face.  Then slowly, he retracted, as if he had just been rebuffed.  Was she... afraid of him?