Wrath's Embrace (Aemond Targaryen)

three

⭒─ three ─⭒

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Alaeyna gripped the saddle tightly as Azrathel dove over King's Landing, her heart pounding with excitement. The city below was alive with activity, looking like ants from their height. The wind blew through her hair, making her feel free and powerful. Each flap of Azrathel's wings sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through her veins, making her heart race as they glided over the Red Keep. The thrill of flying filled her with a mix of happiness and awe, making her feel unstoppable.

She whooped loudly as her dragon roared, feeling the girl’s excitement. Although she wasn't allowed to fly too far or without the supervision of either of her parents, she had learned to make the best of it as long as she could give her dragon a bit of freedom. 

She had already been flying around for more than an hour and while she loved the wind flowing through her hair, she was also growing tired. She caressed Azrathel’s rough skin, manoeuvring him towards the dragonpit where the dragonkeepers stood, waiting to take the dragon inside. Alaeyna slid off her saddle easily, grinning as she walked over to her mother who stood waiting for her; little Joffrey in her arms fast asleep. 

Alaeyna pulled off her leather gloves as her mother leaned forward to kiss the top of her head, she made a face, “gods, you stink of dragon,” she muttered and Alaeyna laughed, “Of course, I would mother, I just got off one, you know.” she grinned and Rhaneyra shook her head, “don't act smart with me, young lady.” she said, caressing her cheek lightly. 

“Why don't you wash up and go to the training area? Your grandsire was asking for you, and you can keep an eye on your brothers,” she told the dark-haired girl who grinned, bouncing on her two feet as she rushed into the carriage to return to the Red Keep as Rhaneyra chuckled behind her. 

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“...knock each other down, pick each other up. They will certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn't you agree?” Alaeyna heard her grandfather say as she climbed the stairs to meet him. 

“That is the hope, your grace,” his hand, Ser Lyonel Strong replied as Alaeyna rushed towards her grandfather, “grandsire!” she called as the King exclaimed at the sight of her, “There she is! My favourite granddaughter!” he laughed as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek before glaring at him playfully, “I'm your only granddaughter,” she retorted and he frowned playfully, “are you, now?” he teased. 

Alaeyna turned to look up the the Hand, “good morrow, ser Lyonel,” she smiled and the man nodded down at her with a smile, “And to you, princess,” 

She turned to look down at the training grounds just as both her uncles began fighting Ser Criston. She rested her arms on the ledge, putting her face on her hands as she watched the boys try to overthrow the older man. Her eyes shifted to her own brothers who stood in a corner, watching the sparring with longing looks on their faces. 

The princess found herself frowning, she wasn't an idiot, she could see that the knight favoured her uncles over her brothers and she thought that was unfair. Apparently, so did Ser Harwin as he spoke up, “it seems the younger boys could do a little bit better with your attention, Ser Criston,” he said as he began cleaning his sword. 

“You question my method of instruction, Ser?” Criston asked as Alaeyna straightened up, curious about how their conversation would go. Ser Harwin shook his head, “No I simply suggest that method be applied to all your pupils.”