"We come from pure strength Daenerys." Her brother told her as he flipped through the old tome. "Viserra Velaryon. As untamable as the sea itself. Her brother Aemar. A greenseer and a mighty warrior. Aemond Targaryen. Rider of Vhagar, the largest dr...
"These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume." - Shakespeare -
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"Time does not heal all wounds." Aemond said softly to her as his eye lingered on her scars. "Believe me I know."
The tears on Maela's face still shone in the light from the hearth. She sniffled as she looked up to him, fresh tears threatening to fall. Bringing his free hand to cup her face he leaned in and kissed away the salty droplets. Maela gripped his tunic to hold him close as his lips ghosted her cheek.
With a ragged breath she confessed, "I am at fault for the loss of your eye." She felt Aemond tense and waited for what might happen.
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"My lady." the captain of the Mermaid's Kiss stuttered as he followed her through the main hall of High Tide. Viserra strode with an air of absolute confidence, an aura that challenged any to oppose what she had just said. "To take a course of action like that is reserved only for the Lord of the Tides."
Her steps did not pause nor slow as she crossed the room between the pillars of her father's treasures.
"And?" she replied not seeing the problem. The captain paused at the bottom of the steps becoming more nervous with each second. The weakling, she scoffed in her thoughts.
"And my lady you-"
"I." she intervened as she slowly sat on the throne behind her. The smooth wood feeling so right. "Am Master of Driftmark now."
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Laenor's face fell as she saw Aemar sway on his feet, "Aemar?" he asked watching as his little brother reached out trying to place down his cup. He missed the table twice before he got it and swayed a bit more as he took another two steps to the balcony. He rested on the frame, his back against the stone wall looking out tot he ocean. Only Laenor knew it was not the sea he saw. No, Aemar's eyes were pure white as another vision gripped him hard. The cold of the night air helped him distinguish between his body stood in reality and what he was seeing.
He inhaled deep through his nose letting the air chill him to the bone as he let the scene play out before him. "The eighth day of the eighth month." he muttered to himself.
