War Prize • Aemond Targaryen

Chapter 1 - Aemond's Arrival

"Storms draw something out of us that calm seas don't."

- Bill Hybels 

   No one expected him to come when he did. The Stormlands were not known for their forgiving weather, but rather for the constant shrowd of clouds that served in the favor of the Targaryen Dragonriders. It was only through the faint flickers of lightning before the great thunder booms that Vaghar's silhouette could be seen flying overhead of Storms End - the only warning of his arrival. The castle had been thrown into a frenzy after that, but little could be done now that he was already here. 

   His presence should not have come as a surprise. Still, it was an interaction her Father had been dreading for quite some time now. The Targaryens were all but forcing the houses to pledge allegiance to whom they considered the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. The Baratheons had already raised their banners in support of Rhaenyra, but it seemed that Daemon's occupation of Harrenhal had persuaded Aegon and his council to seek other houses that possessed great fortresses of land to join their side... even if it meant using less than admirable methods if the rumors were to be believed. Storms End and the Stormlands were indeed a great fortress of land, and now, it seemed, it had fallen into the sights of the Targaryens... only they happened to be the wrong Targaryens. 

   Ilaria could hear the ominous footsteps of Vhagar as the dragon stepped over the roof of the castle above. Even through stone and storm, the flapping wings of the beast produced a powerful noise that shook the chandelier hanging from her ceiling and crumbled stone onto the silk sheets that covered her bed. It was right over the top of her chambers and if the beast dared to breathe its Dragonfire, the balcony doors that kept the rain at bay would not be enough to guard her from the all-consuming flame. She did not know what could set a dragon off, so she did not take a chance on being that reason and remained absolutely still. Yet, her efforts were rendered futile when a sudden and urgent knock sounded at her door. Rather than responding and giving the beast above a reason to incinerate her and her home, she hurried to the door and carefully pulled it open. Her guard stood on the other end of it, and although his presence should have been unanimous with safety, the absolute look of dread on his face made her wonder whether the worst had already come to pass. 

   "What is it?" she demanded. 

   "Prince Aemond is requesting an audience," said her guard. "Now."

~~~

   As her family took their respective seats along the round table that served as a meeting space within the compounds of the dining hall, Ilaria could not help but wonder why Aemond had requested an audience with her entire family. This should have been a discussion between her father, the Lord Baratheon of Storms End, and Prince Aemond. The presence of her siblings and her mother could only serve in the favor of Aemond, who might use them as leverage over Father if he was indeed planning on using dishonorable methods to persuade the Baratheon house to shift their allegiance.

   "Ilaria," her mother hissed through the harshly falling rain that pattered against the balcony windows behind them, overlooking the vast range of the Stormlands. Glancing towards her, Ilaria noticed her mother motioning to the opening neckline of her own robe. Hurriedly, Ilaria fastened a hand over the ends of her robe and concealed any skin that threatened to peek through. 

   Her mother had been absolutely frightened when Aemond's proposal of marriage had come. In her eyes, marrying her daughter off to a Targaryen Prince was as good as knowingly sending her daughter off to an untimely death. So, she had acted in haste, knowing that denying a Targaryen Prince was a decision as terrible as allowing her daughter to marry into the Targaryen household. Quietly, she had arranged a marriage with Dalaric Stark, a Lord of Winterfell who Ilaria had only met on a couple of occasions throughout the years. He was kind enough from what Ilaria remembered and undoubtedly handsome too, but their marriage had not come to pass quite yet. She was promised to him, the ring on her finger ensured that much, but no official ceremony had taken place before the Gods. Already being promised to a Stark had deterred Aemond from making any further propositions of marriage, but that did not mean he did not still desire her. She only hoped he might honor the promise her house had made to the Starks.