Elaenys Targaryen, the fierce and beautiful daughter of Daemon Targaryen, was legitimized by King Viserys Targaryen on her second nameday. Sharing many of her father's traits, Elaenys grew up on the rugged shores of Dragonstone, honing her strength...
A few weeks had passed since the exhilarating dragon ride, and Elaenys found herself on the training grounds, ready to hone her skills with her Valyrian steel sword. The morning air was crisp, and the sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden hue over the grounds.
Elaenys's training attire clung to her petite yet curvy frame, a testament to both her strength and grace. She wore a fitted leather jerkin over a simple linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows to allow for better movement. Her trousers were made of durable fabric, designed to withstand the rigors of training, and her boots were sturdy, laced tightly to provide support as she moved.
She took a deep breath, feeling the cool metal of her sword's hilt against her palm. The Valyrian steel blade gleamed in the morning light, its edge sharp and deadly. Elaenys had spent countless hours training, and it showed in the way she handled her weapon. Her movements were fluid and precise, each strike and parry executed with confidence and skill.
She began her routine, starting with basic drills to warm up. Her sword sliced through the air with a satisfying whoosh, the sound a testament to her power and control. She moved through the forms with ease, her body a blur of motion as she transitioned from one stance to the next.
As she trained, Elaenys could feel the strength in her muscles, the result of her dedication and hard work. Her petite frame belied the power she possessed, and her curvy figure moved with a grace that was both captivating and formidable. She was a force to be reckoned with, and she knew it.
As Elaenys continued her training, a group of knights gathered around her, forming a loose circle. They watched in awe as she moved with her blade, each strike and parry executed with a precision that left them speechless. The knights exchanged glances, clearly impressed by her skill and the way she commanded the Valyrian steel sword.
Among the onlookers was Aemond, who happened to be passing by. He paused, captivated by the sight of Elaenys in motion. Her movements were a blend of strength and grace, her petite yet curvy figure flowing seamlessly through each form. The sunlight glinted off her blade, casting fleeting reflections that danced across the training grounds.
Aemond's eyes followed her every move, noting the way she handled her sword with both power and finesse. He could see the determination etched on her face, the focus in her eyes as she pushed herself to the limits. There was something mesmerizing about the way she trained, an intensity that drew him in and held his attention.
Elaenys was unaware of the audience she had gathered, her concentration solely on her routine. She moved with a fluidity that spoke of countless hours of practice, her body a perfect extension of her blade. Each strike was deliberate, each parry calculated, and the knights around her couldn't help but admire her dedication.
Aemond watched as she finished her routine, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer. There was a respect in his eyes, a recognition of the hard work and skill that Elaenys had poured into her training. He knew that she was a force to be reckoned with, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her.
As Elaenys sheathed her sword and wiped the sweat from her brow, she finally noticed the circle of knights around her. She met Aemond's gaze briefly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before she offered a small, confident smile. She had earned their respect, and she knew it.
Elaenys walked towards Aemond, her confidence evident in her stride. The other knights, sensing the moment, returned to their previous activities, leaving the two of them with a semblance of privacy.
"Aemond"
Elaenys greeted, a slight smile playing on her lips.
Aemond nodded, his eyes still reflecting the admiration he felt.
"Your skill with the blade is impressive, Ela."
She shrugged modestly, though a hint of pride shone in her eyes.
"Thank you."
Aemond tilted his head slightly, studying her.
"The way you move, it's almost like a dance."
Elaenys chuckled softly.
"My father. He always said a true warrior never stops learning."
"Wise words."
Aemond replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Elaenys nodded, her expression turning serious.
"In these times, we can't afford to be anything else than prepared."
Aemond's gaze softened as he looked at her.
"And you, Ela, you are more than prepared. You're a force to be reckoned with."
She met his eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.
"That means a lot coming from you."
With that, Elaenys turned and began to walk away, leaving Aemond to watch her retreating form, a newfound respect and admiration growing within him.
As Elaenys walked away, Aemond felt a strange mix of admiration and longing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her retreating form, the way she held herself with such grace and strength. It was as if a magnetic pull was drawing him towards her, a desire to be near her once more.
In that moment, Aemond realized that his feelings for Elaenys had grown deeper than mere admiration. He found himself thinking about her constantly, her fierce determination, her unwavering spirit, and the softness that lay beneath her warrior exterior. Each interaction they had shared replayed in his mind, and he couldn't deny the truth any longer.
Aemond had begun to fall in love with Elaenys.
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