𝙺𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽 ° aemond targaryen

Act Three, Scene Ten

┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑
"𝙺𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝"
𝟷𝟸𝟾 𝙰𝙲 - 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐'𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐
┕━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

     A FIRE CRACKLES SOFTLY IN the hearth, being the only source of light in the room, the orange glow bouncing off the walls. Papers are strewn about the table, nimble fingers tracing over words describing different battle plans to be enacted in the coming weeks. It was late into the evening, if the rich black sky outside was anything to go by, though the noise filtering up from the city was still as loud as it ever was.

      Despite the late hour, a knock on the door caused Aemond to look away from his papers. A moment passed with silence, violet eyes glancing quickly at the cradle in the corner. Though, when the sudden noise did not seem to stir the sleeping child, he turned his gaze back to the parchment.

     "Enter," His voice called out, causing the door to slowly open. He did not spare a glance at who entered, knowing well enough from the heavy footsteps that it was Ser Criston, whom he had sent out to the city on an errand a few hours ago.

     The knight was silent as he approached the table, looking away from the man beside the table towards where the youngest prince was letting out soft snores, as if he, too, was wondering if the child has awoke. Chocolate eyes turned away again as he took a place across the table from Aemond, who rested his hands on the wood as he leaned over the plans.

     "Well?"

     Criston stood tall, his hands folded behind his back as he spoke in a low tone. "I regret to inform you that Sylvi has not heard any word back from her correspondent." He said slowly, eyes gauging the prince's reaction. "At this time, it is unclear whether or not she has managed to make contact with her."

     The younger man hummed softly, seeming as though the words had no effect on him. Inside, however, his anxiety was flaring--he had no idea if this plan would work, and if it did not, he had no idea if or when they would be able to come up with another. With not only the worry of his wife's return, he also the pressure to come up with battle plans, all the while having to care for his infant son; the pressure was weighing down heavily on his shoulders.

     "Give it time," Aemond spoke after a few moments. "It will work."

     Before the knight could speak once more, soft whining was heard from across the room, shuffling soon followed by a loud wail. The prince wasted no time in leaving the parchments behind, making his way over to the cradle and lifting his son to his chest. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the boy.

     "That will be all, Ser Criston."

     The tanned man said nothing more, simply nodding his head before exiting the room, the door shutting softly behind him. Once he was gone, Aemond sighed, moving over to sit in a chair beside the fire. The child's cries had turned into soft whines, his face scrunched up as he flailed his tiny fists around. The sight brought a gentle smile to the prince's face.

     He leaned forwards slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he held Saellor in front of him, one hand holding his bum while the other supported his head. Little eyes peaked open, lilac orbs staring softly up at his father, as his small hand reached to grab a strand of platinum hair.

     "It is alright, my little dragon," He said softly, his voice hardly above a whisper as he stared adoringly down at his baby. "I am here. And your mother will be here soon. I promise." He sighed lightly, his thumb brushing softly over the babe's cheek. "Everything is going to be fine."