ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝔹𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 | 𝐻𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓃

11

Cerys didn't give Aemond the light of day to conversate with her. He had pleaded and begged for her a moment of her time, but she'd turn away, her silence a dagger to his heart. Through hours she'd teach her nephews, she'd hide from him while he searched. How ironic, she'd tell herself, that she could be as elusive as the prince. Fortunately, Jace aided her in the avoidance of his uncle. However, Luke remained oblivious to their scheme. 

As Cerys began folding her gowns and searching for clothing warm enough to withstand the Northern chill, she pondered the tales she had heard through travelers. Instead of rain, they said, the North was blanketed in something called 'snow.' The idea fascinated her—the thought of cold air so fierce it could bite at her skin and numb her hands and face was both thrilling and terrifying. Was it a condition she could live in for the rest of her days?

Jacaerys had informed her about their sudden departure to the North soon. The journey was said to be long and arduous. She'd never flown on a dragon before, and the mere thought was daunting. She'd watch Vermax countless times when Jace first learned to mount him. But, witnessing it was different from experiencing it firsthand. 

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Aemond stormed into her chambers. There she stood, in her nightgown dyed the light color jade, her arms full of clothes she was gathering for the journey ahead. Aemond swiftly placed his coat resting on a chair as he approached her. 

"You are difficult to locate."  

He commented, his hands resting on the handle of his sword, analyzing how breathtaking she was in the color green. She had caught him staring, her long curls swaying as she turned away from his gaze. 

"You cannot be here."

She told him, as she placed her clothes neatly beside the others. His gentle gaze remained fixed on her, his thoughts tainted with lust and longing. 

He was utterly entranced by her beauty. Her chestnut-colored eyes seemed to draw him in deeper with every glance. Her cheeks, flushed with a delicate shade of pink added to her natural beauty. She was a sight worth watching, her presence graceful. If she were recognized as a Targaryen, she would be the envy of every noble house; more than just Cregan Stark would seek to win her hand in marriage. 

"Are you leaving?" 

He asked, dismissing his thoughts as he glimpsed the clothes she'd neatly folded atop her bed; ignoring her previous warning for him to vacate her chambers. 

"That is not of your concern"

She retorted back, her arms folded under her chest as her eyes roamed his face. He gave her a smug look, pursing his lips out as he watched her contently. 

"Don't marry him." 

He whispered, her eyes shifting off of him as she looked away. 

"Why do you care?" 

She asked, attempting to seem oblivious while he gave her a soft smile. 

"Because my offer still stands to marry you" 

He whispered, Cerys scoffed at his words. 

"I will not be in a miserable marriage, where you run off with other women!" 

She hissed. Blinded by anger, she failed to realize their close proximity, until Aemond's hand gently lifted her face by her chin. 

"All I care about is you." 

He confessed quietly, his eyes roaming down to soft lips. Cerys felt trapped under his gaze and touch. 

"You are a pathetic liar."

She spat while trying to turn her back on him. Aemond didn't hesitate to grab ahold of her by her waist and swiftly press her against a nearby pillow. She quietly gasped under his touch, his hands firmly gripping her waist, feeling his fingers press down onto her skin against the silky fabric. 

"I have not lied to you--Every minute of every day I search for you to tell you just how much I love you--" 

He whispered, his sincere gaze causing hers to soften. Were they both desperate to find one another to tell each other the same thing? Cerys was hesitant about his confession and pressed her hands on his chest to give each other a good enough distance. 

Aemond looked down at her lips hungrily. She was ravishing in her nightgown as it draped down past her ankles. The straps were thin and showed enough cleavage to make her feel embarrassed in his presence. 

"He cannot long for you as I do." 

He whispered into her ear, placing small kisses on her jaw as her hands gripped his shirt gently. 

"though..." 

He whispered, 

"I bet Cregan Stark cannot kiss you as you'd desire" 

He pressed his lips against hers gently, her eyes widened at the sudden contact. She could feel herself giving in, melting by his touch. The way his hands gently caressed her waist as his lips were pressed onto hers. Aemond groaning in between kisses. She loved him of course, but she had to attempt not to. 

When she realized how vulnerable she'd become, her hands began pushing him away, giving them a distance; and before any of them could react her palm had met his cheek. Aemond had backed up, his hand raising to his face in shock that she'd strike him. 

Cerys's hands began to tremble, as her gaze went down to her hands she realized she'd hit Aemond, nonetheless, a prince at that matter. But most of all, she was terrified that she allowed her anger and pride to consume her. 

"I--I didn't mean-" 

She stuttered, feeling afraid of herself. More so feeling afraid of the possibility that she'd hurt him physically again. 

"You---you must go!" 

She ordered her palm grabbing ahold of her trembling one. 

"Cerys..I--"

"Go!" 

She cried out, pulling her hands to her chest as she trembled. Aemond didn't argue and furiously grabbed his coat while storming out of her room.

 She was angry that she'd hit him. Had she become even a glimpse of her father? The memory of him striking her for the joy of it or the consequence of her birth disgusted her. But, Harwin would defend her and comfort her. He wasn't here to guide her or correct her. Would he truly be ashamed of what she'd done? 

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she did it out of self-defense, and not for the satisfaction that she enjoyed it. 

Aemond stood outside her door, his coat in hand as he refused to enter her chambers again. Her slap had a force, stronger than what he'd expected. Nevertheless, it didn't hurt as much as she believed it to be. Aemond wasn't angry that she'd hit him, if anything he felt it well deserved. He'd force a kiss on her that she didn't agree to, and she reacted in self-defense. He was angry, that now she didn't even want his touch, regardless of her seeming to crave it. 

She'd rather go a thousand miles on dragon-back to avoid him, and to avoid marrying him. He craved her touch and yearned for her affection, both now gone because of his selfishness. If only he'd entrust her to think about their engagement, they wouldn't be torn apart. 

Aemond went to his chambers, drawing a bath to be left alone in his thoughts; and plan on how to marry Cerys Strong. 

kept it short, but trust you guys; they're going to get over this....eventually.