Romanteacsim

[romanteacism]

Romanteacism Masterlist

Sworn to You - Knight Aemond x Princess Reader

The Hunt ; Night Off ; Neglectful Jealousy ; Devious Forgiveness ; Innocent Touch ; Awkward After ; Please ; Missing ; Pretense ; Leave ; Lonely ; Fallen ; Run ; Gloomy ; Questions ; Particular Risk ; New ; Love ; Someday ; North ; Scarlet Heart ; Space ; How Did it End? ; Broken ; Leave, Again ; Wait ; lolm ; Yours ; Epilogue

A Butterfly and a Dragon's Flight - Prince Aemond x Elinora Tyrell

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8 ; Chapter 9 ; Chapter 10 ; Chapter 11 ; Chapter 12 ; Chapter 13 ; Chapter 14 ; Chapter 15

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Yours

Synopsis: Aemond had always been yours, as much as you have always been Aemond's. PREVIOUS PART / EPILOGUE

“Two proposals in less than an hour, my, they truly wish for you to be out of your father’s house, your highness.” You blinked slowly at the lord who spoke before you and the small council. You turned to your father, impatient as you wished to be reunited with Aemond, but you were quickly whisked away to the chambers of the small council.

Your father looked upon the lord with pursed lips. He knew the time would come when you must leave; he had tried to make amends, but he could truly not. When the lord saw the unimpressed face upon the king, not enjoying the jest he made wherein his only daughter was to leave his care, the lord awkwardly cleared his throat and straightened his posture. 

“The— the council is quite concerned with the proposals, princess. As we all know, Lord Andrew has courted you for a year, their house proving to be a great ally to the crown, which can only be solidified with your marriage. However…” the lord drew in a long breath. “However, you had made it known as to whom your favor lies,” He added, looking upon the expressions of his fellow lords in the council, along with your father and brother. 

“Though Lord Aemond and his house are a great ally to the crown as well, with their benevolence of granting us a lower price for our armory… it is rather a great concern that he has asked for your hand in marriage, especially with… with his proximity to you as your sworn protector years before,” You sighed heavily as you hear the murmurs of the lords, turning to your father who studied their faces. 

“I do not see where the problem lies, my lord. If I recall correctly, you and this council had been pleading for me to choose a husband ever since I came of age. Desperately compelled me to be married and be out of my father’s home— now that I have made my choice, you are giving me the impression that I should change my mind.” You muttered, patience wearing thin as you found the whole ordeal quite unnecessary.

“It is not that, princess. I— We— we only fear about the impression it shall make… You see, your case is not so different from your great-grandmother’s, the queen. She, too, has chosen her knight, and though your past knight has now become a lord and is an eligible contender for your hand, the situation still has not changed. There is still a question as to your—“ 

“My virtue?” You finished and feel as though the men gathered around the table froze and held their breath. “Do you wish for a trial to prove it, my lord?” You questioned, feeling annoyance as they dared to question you and Aemond’s honor. 

“This is preposterous. My sister has given her word that nothing of what you dare insinuate has happened, is that not enough?” The prince then interrupted. Though he was still holding a speck of anger towards your knight, who had left, he did not wish for his sister to be subjected to the same humiliation and speculations their great-grandmother had been prey to years before. 

“It is not that we question the princess’s word, my prince. It is just rather… delicate, especially as you consider her… closeness with the lord, who was once a Ser. If we recall correctly, you even tasked him to have his post inside the princess’s chambers for a while… this council is simply concerned with how it shall be perceived in the eyes of the others.” 

“So, you wish for a trial.” You uttered once again, impatient as the lord would not concede and say plainly what they wished for: A trial that proves your virtue and proves that nothing untoward had happened between you and your past knight.

You let out a deep breath, turning to your father for his answer because, for the life of you, you did not know how to proceed. “Careful, my lords. I am under the impression that you question my daughter— that you question as to how she was raised… by me.” 

You bit back your smile, looking upon the overly serious look on your father’s face as he faced his council. “To question her word— her virtue, means to question the manner in which I have raised and taught her. Is this your qualm, my lords?” He asked, and you turned to your brother, who had the same knowing look in his eyes. 

“My king— no, it is not that. We— we do not doubt the way you and the queen have raised the princess. No, not at all. But we only fear that—“ 

“So you then question her constitution? You believe that she waivers easily and is quick to be rid of her honor?” Your father interrupted, and you feel how quickly and how greatly unsettled the lords were. “Of course not, my king! The princess is how any young lady should be— chaste with her suitors and not so easily swayed by their words and state.” Another lord then interjected. 

“Then I do not understand what the matter is, my lords. If you believe my daughter is how any young maiden should act— that she was raised well and remembers what she is taught, why then can you not simply congratulate her as she has found a man she wishes to marry? Why must we keep her here when she should be celebrating with her betrothed?” 

The room fell into a silence, lords opening and closing their mouths, but not a sound came. You smiled softly at your father, taking his hand under the table and giving a thankful squeeze. “Well then, if no one disagrees with the match, may my daughter be excused, my lords?” The king then questioned, and a moment of silence passed before they agreed, unable to express their concerns for fear of offending the king. 

You smiled and stood, giving the lords a curtsy, and merrily leaving the room. But before you could leave, your father gave the lords a knowing look. “Congratulations, princess,” they say in unison, an edge of fear in their voice, and you could only smile as you left, Aemond readily greeting you the moment the doors of the small council opened. 

“Well?” He asked lowly, his nervousness clearly evident in his eye. You stayed silent, only looking at the man you loved, your gaze missing his face and memorizing each expression he made. 

“Come now, my heart. What did they say? I feel as if I could faint at any moment,” Aemond confessed, daring to step closer to you, his eye earnestly trying to read any expression in your face. 

“I want custard tarts,” you finally spoke, Aemond only gaping at you as he still did not know how his proposal had been received. He had known long ago that if he were to ask for your hand, you would be laid vulnerable to speculation, that your virtue and honor should be questioned. Never mind him, for it shall be you who should bear the burden of being judged by the court. 

Aemond followed you silently as you threaded towards the gardens, an old scene replaying as the court once again witnessed how their princess was walking side by side with the man sworn to her. 

Aemond bit back his tongue, his eye upon you as you two walked the familiar path. The halls were lavishly decorated for your upcoming nameday feast. However, in each hall you passed, Aemond was wary that you two might cross paths with the other Lord who asked for your hand. 

“My heart, please, I… I must know what has transpired.” Aemond said desperately, his voice low as he dipped closer to your ear. “Did you know the kitchens have found a new method for the custard tarts? They’ve added rose water and saffron to it— it’s rather good, I think you’d like it.” You instead say, and Aemond paused for a moment as you entirely ignored his questions. 

For a moment, he simply stood by your side as you occupied your usual place in the gardens. You looked upon him, his gaze wholly confused, but you only motioned for him to sit. Aemond glanced behind him, a footman waiting to aid him. He did so hesitantly. 

Aemond sat quietly, watching as you made two cups of tea, just as you did before. Even when he was your knight, you always made him a cup, even though you knew he could not drink it. He then observed as you placed a custard tart onto your plate and a lemon cake upon his, the pastry being his unuttered favourite. 

Aemond looked upon you, impatient to know what had happened, but his mind kept reminding him to simply savor the moment. It was the first time that you were both in the gardens, where he was not expected to be your guard. It was the first time that you two were seen as man and woman by the court, not princess and knight. 

Aemond sighed and took a dessert fork into his grasp, watching as you watched him take a bite of the cake and a sip of his tea. “It’s… you remember how I take my tea,” He muttered softly. “It’s not hard to remember, you take it plainly, my love.” You smiled, and Aemond bit back his as he once again heard the affectionate nickname you would call him. He was your love, and you were his heart. Neither could live without the other. 

Aemond sighed and dared to take hold of your hand that rested atop the table, your touch no longer hidden or kept a secret. “Now, what was your question again?” You finally asked, deciding you were done toying with Aemond. You just wanted a moment akin to the moments you had spent with him years before, but you wanted the damned space between you dissolved. 

Aemond breathed in a deep breath. “What did the council say?” He asked, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. “Well, as expected, they wished for a trial to prove my virtue,” You say, Aemond taking in a harsh breath. “Do not fret, father had already seen to it that nothing as such shall take place,” You smiled. “Then? What… what of my proposal?” 

Aemond waited on bated breath for your reply, but you stole away your gaze from him. “Uhm… nothing yet.” You say, stealing away your hand, and Aemond felt his heart pit. He was ready to speak once more, perhaps march towards the room of the small council and drop to his knees and beg for them to agree, but he could not do so as you spoke.

“In truth, I think it is because you proclaimed your wish to take my hand, to make me your wife, but… but you had not actually asked me,” 

Aemond blinked slowly, trying his best to comprehend your words even though his mind was already muddled. “I love you, but… but there are formalities and traditions that I cannot forgo,” You smiled at his overly confused face. You bit your lip as Aemond let a smile overcome his lips, watching as he shook his head in amusement and as he slowly sank to his knee. “I never believed in love—“ 

“That is how you want to start your proposal to me?” You could not help but interrupt, a bit shocked at how he decided to phrase his words. “My heart,” Aemond sighed and shook his head once more, taking your hand into his again. 

“As I was saying, I never believed in love… I refused to believe it was real. Others speak so highly of it, they… they would even take lives in the name of it. Yet it always felt like a tale meant for someone else— anyone else…. Until you.” Aemond’s voice softened as it always did when the one he spoke to was you.

“As you know, my heart, I was a cynic. I always believed I had no need of anyone but myself… that I could live my days with just my own company… Do you remember the time when you had dismissed me for the week?” Aemond then questioned, his hands caressing yours. “Yes,” You say quietly. “I did not know what to do with myself… countless people had advised me to go to town or perhaps rest, but all I did was follow you around from a distance. I… I could not even bear to be away from your side for a week.” Aemond said with a quiet laugh. “If my younger self could have seen my state then, I’m well certain he would have called me pathetic.”

Aemond’s smile softened, the amusement lingering only briefly before fading beneath something far more solemn. “And perhaps I was,” he continued, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand as though reminding himself you were truly there. “It was then that I understood that solitude was no longer my sanctuary. It was a sentence. And only your presence could grant me pardon.”

You felt your breath still in your chest as Aemond drew closer, his voice now barely above a whisper. “You are the reason why I rise each morning… The only thought that steadied my mind when my rage threatened to consume it.” A pause, deep and reverent. “You are my everything. All that I am is yours. My mind, body, soul… my heart.”

A hush settled over the gardens, as though even the wind wished to listen. Aemond lifted your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles, smiling against your skin. “The days we were apart were my glimpse of hell… but I would face it again and again if it meant you would be mine even just for a day.” Aemond continued, his eye steady on yours. 

“I would brave the Seven Hells, if only to hear you call me ‘my love’ once more. But I want more than moments stolen, more than glances across court halls.” He swallowed, his voice trembling just enough that only you could hear it. “I want all of it—the future, the promise, the certainty. Not as knight and princess… but as husband and wife.”

Your heart felt impossibly loud in your ears as he reached into his cloak, retrieving a sapphire ring. The same gem that once rested in place of his stolen eye. “If I could, I’d place my heart in your hands… but I hope this should suffice for the moment. I only wish for you to have a part of me that stays with you… that reminds you that I am simply a finger’s touch away.”  

You swallowed thickly, looking upon the ring and Aemond’s unwavering eye through tears. He let out a slow breath and further straightened his stance. “Will you bind your life to mine? Will you allow me the honor of calling you my wife—not merely in hope, but in truth?”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob. Aemond waited for your answer, even though he knew you were his and he was yours, he could not help but still feel doubt. That perhaps he was merely dreaming, or maybe his longing heart had led him to delusions, but as he saw a tear fall from your eye, and how your hands cupped his face and pulled him to meet your lips, he knew that even if it were a dream, it came true. 

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader loml

Synopsis: Would you let the love of your life be the greatest loss as well? PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART

They say first love never dies. But you had wished that whoever said such a cruel thing had lied. Yet here you were, a witness to the truth. Your foolish heart had now come back to life. 

You stared dumbfounded as you stood by the door of your father’s study, staring blankly at the space between him and the lord whom you once called your love. You blinked slowly, hand upon your stomach, as you felt bile rising to your throat, and the words uttered and confessed still rang in your ears. 

“Princess,” You hear him call upon you. His voice was ever so familiar yet rang hollow. You feel yourself step back as he boldly steps towards you, a small step that made you wish to run, but you held your composure. “Could you give us a moment, Lord Aemond… I— I wish to speak with my father,” You managed to say, your eyes not upon the lord but steadily staring upon the velvet carpet on the floor.

 Aemond felt his knees weaken as he heard you utter his name. It sounded false in his ears. Your tone so devoid of warmth or love. Aemond was not able to answer; his eye only glancing behind at the king, who had a grave look upon his face, before he gave a nod. The moment he stepped closer to the door, he felt his heart pit as you were quick to move away, as if scorned to have him near. 

Aemond took in a deep breath, his heart ceasing a beat as he smelled your scent once more. The same scent that brought him comfort and eased his mind. He boldly looked upon you before he stepped out, his eye keenly assessing your frame, for he feared this may truly be the last time he would be blessed to see you. You squared your shoulders as you felt his eye upon you, forcing yourself not to meet his gaze even if your foolish heart was desperately seeking his unique lilac orb once more.

You let out a breath as you hear the door close, your hands balling the fabric of your gown as you try to regain composure. You reminded yourself of how foolish your actions were before, on how you grieved a man who obviously had no regard for you. But those thoughts— those cruel yet comforting thoughts you held onto for the past three years to numb your heart that longed for Aemond were quick to fade with each moment his confession hung in the air. 

“My darling, I— you sh—“ Your father tried to speak, him in a state of shock as well, but you could only shake your head as you finally raised your gaze. “Lord Andrew had just proposed,” You say, voice meek and devoid of any elation that came with such milestones. 

You watched through glassy eyes as the shock in your father’s eyes multiplied. “Judging by your reaction, I suppose he had not formally asked for yours or brother’s blessing yet,” You say, a short, humorless laugh leaving your lips as you recalled having been in the gardens when Lord Andrew suddenly dropped to his knee in the midst of your morning tea. “It was implied that he would soon propose, but no, he had not asked for our blessings yet,” The king finally spoke, uncertain how to proceed with the conversation as his mind still ran with the confession Lord Aemond uttered. 

“I thought as much.” Your father watched as you nervously traced the embroidery of your dress, your chest rising and falling as you took in deep breaths, but it did not seem to calm you at all. “What was your reply? Did you say yes?” The king asked cautiously, as your father slowly inched his way to you, fearing that any movement would startle you into tears. 

“I could not answer him.” You admitted. “I… I knew he was to propose— that he would do it sometime near my name day. In truth, I was prepared for him to ask for my hand in marriage— I… I was prepared to say yes, but—“ You bit your lip as you abruptly ceased speaking, fearing a sob might suddenly break free.

You feel your father take hold of your arms, gently guiding you to sit on a settee in the hope that it would calm your nerves. “But?” The king asked quietly as you took in a deep breath. “But I saw Lord Aemond being escorted here,” You say, a mirthless, pitiful smile coming to your lips, and with the utterance of his name, a pearl tear soon followed. 

“I thought I had seen a ghost— that he was perhaps haunting my thoughts once more, but when I saw him bickering with Ser Adam, I knew then that he had returned.” The king let out a grievous sigh, he pulled at the sleeves of his tunic to cover the back of his hand, and used it to wipe away your tears just as he did when you were a little girl. 

“I suppose you heard our conversation then,” The king stated. You feel your tears fall further as you give a small nod. “Do you think he speaks the truth?” You asked. “You know him better than I do, my child.” The king answered, but as he saw the further distress in your eyes, all he could do was cup your cheek. “I do not know what to do, father,” You cried as you buried your face in your hands, overwhelmed by the events that only happened within the hour.

The king patted his daughter’s back as he pulled her closer to him. “Of course you do. You always do.” He said as you tried to catch your breath between your sobs, shaking your head at his words. “You follow your heart, my darling, as you have done so many times before. Whatever impulse you felt, whatever inkling you had, you leap towards it without hesitation. You are blessed with what many wish for but could never gain— courage. You have courage, my child.” Your father said sincerely. 

“Your mother had always dressed your courage as stubbornness or insolence, but that does not make it less true. You had the courage to defy and question our orders, you had the courage to see beyond the walls that kept you enclosed, and you had the courage to love a man that your station would disapprove of. Even now, your courage remains strong and steadfast as you face him once more,” 

You sniffled further at your father’s words. “C—could I… I ask you a question, Father?” You stuttered as you tried your best to stifle another sob. You hated that you were always quick to cry, but you were blessed, as those around you did not seem to mind. “Anything, my child.” 

“What do you think I should do?” You asked quietly. The king drew in a deep, thoughtful breath, his hand holding your clammed ones. “I know what it’s like to have lost the same love you had grieved for— to lose the love of your life. And with each passing day, I regret not holding onto it tighter and letting it slip away…” The king trailed, voice heavy as he spoke. “But you, my darling, are the most fortunate because yours has returned. Yes, it may have wandered astray in the past, but what is important is that it came back to you.” 

“Your fondness for Lord Andrew is stable. It fulfils your duty, it quiets the qualms of your mother and the court. Your fondness for him is a distraction. But that is all.” The king sighed, your eyes still glazed over from unshed tears, yet he still smiled upon you. 

“But your love for Lord Aemond is deep. You both have seen the good and the bad—you two even tried to set it free, but it had stayed rooted within. Yours is the kind of love that others had fought wars for— the kind that made them lose their minds. The love you two share… I’m not even certain if one could put it into words; it is that rare and pure, my child. It is that special. It is true love.” 

You drew in a shaky breath, your pitted and numbed heart aching in your chest, but you thanked the gods and the fates for it. Because through the ache, you knew it was still there, that it was still beating and alive. That it was still capable of feeling anger, joy, and most importantly, love. 

“It is your choice, my child.” The king said after a short moment, a small smile on his lips. “Choose who your heart beats for, who it breaks for— just as long as you know it is true. Do not let the love of your life be the loss of your life as well.” 

“Really, brother?” you asked, exasperated. After your conversation with your father, you were quick to leave his study, even though the tears in your eyes had not yet dried. You fled hastily, abandoning every trace of sensibility as your heart sought the one you loved.

But as you scoured the castle, your muddled mind only grew more frantic as the man you sought was nowhere to be found. You feared he might have left again; he had a habit of doing so. Yet something in you knew he hadn’t. And even if he had, you would mount the first horse you saw and ride after him without hesitation.

A quiet part of you whispered that you were acting irrationally. He had left you and ignored you for years—yet with a single confession (one he hadn’t even spoken to you directly), you were already willing to concede, already desperate to seek him out once more. Perhaps you were mad— idiotic even. But is that not what does to a person? It warrants one to abandon rationality. However, your irrational mind could not reason as to why your brother was acting irrationally as well, as he had locked Aemond in the cells. 

You stood in the dark, cramped space, a candelabrum in your hands, a confused expression on your face as you stared at your older brother, who wore a scowl. “Release him,” you say, glancing upon Aemond, who stood in the cramped cell silently. 

Your brother shook his head, his glaring eyes upon the lord who needed four knights to be captured and placed in the cell. “No. That is his rightful place. What he has done— It amounts to treason, sister!” The prince exclaimed as you two stood upon the isle, steel bars the only thing separating you from the lord who had once abandoned his post. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” You exclaimed impatiently, as you had just spent the past hour searching for the lord when all you wanted to do was speak with him. “Brother, please, I… I must speak with him.” You say, voice growing smaller.

Aemond held onto the metal bars tighter, his eye placed upon you the moment you had entered the dark cells. He could not even find his voice. Could not object when the prince and four knights practically ambushed and abducted him in the halls as he waited for you to exit the king’s study. 

“Then speak with him if you must, but he shall stay there,” the prince said, stubborn-headed as he finally confronted the man who had broken his sister’s heart. “By gods! This is a clear abuse of power, brother! Heaven help us all if you are to be made king!” You could not help but exclaim, your brother unrelenting as he made no move to release the lord, who did not actually commit a crime. 

“Release him, please. Before I get father involved,” You threatened, and Aemond bit back his smile at your words. The prince still shook his head, unrelenting, as he had no wish for you to speak with the man who had caused great sadness in your heart. 

He knew what was to come. There was a sinking feeling within that told him that you were finally ready to forgive Lord Aemond. He heard that you could not answer Lord Andrew’s proposal; the talk was quick to travel, as you could only smile upon the lord in lieu of an answer, and went straight to your father’s study to escape his proposal. 

You were ready to object once more, to pounce at your brother and forcefully take the keys that would set Aemond free. But at the sound of footsteps approaching, you reigned in your decision. 

“By gods! You really did lock him in the cells?!” You hear the surprised voice of your eldest brother, his confused expression turning into shock as he spotted his siblings with Lord Aemond. “Tell him to give me the keys,” You say, looking upon the prince in great restraint as the words you wished to utter to the lord were starting to fade. 

“Brother, you cannot lock lord Aemond in the cells for breaking our sister’s heart! That is not in the law!” Your eldest brother laughed as he took the candelabrum from your hand. “It should be! Didn’t our great-grandmother once have a suitor flogged because she learned she was not the only woman he was courting? If anything, I am bestowing him a kindness.” You rolled your eyes at your brother’s words, seeing that he truly cannot be reasoned with. 

“Could you two leave? I must speak with your prisoner alone.” You finally decided, glancing upon your eldest brother. A look in your eyes that told him to call for your father, as the prince was acting irrationally. 

You then turned to your older brother, his jaw in a clench, and it took a moment before he gave his reluctant nod. You finally let out a breath, your eldest brother setting the candelabrum by your feet as you watched them slowly exit the small space of the dungeons, leaving you to face the man who stood quietly in his cells. “Princess, I—“ 

“Why did you return?” You instead question, ignoring how he still used your title to call upon you. It did not feel right— it was unnatural for him to still hold onto formalities after all that had transpired. Aemond stared at you, aglow from the warm light of the candle. 

Before, you often uttered how fond you were of looking upon him in the pale light of the moon. He simply failed to say that he, too, was utterly fond when the glow of the sun set you alight, making you look golden and otherworldly. 

“I…” he began to trail. The words he wished to say to you were unable to pass his lips the further he looked upon you. The years had changed you. “You cut your hair,” Was all he could utter. You blinked at his words, your hand instinctively clutching the ends of your locks that now brushed against your shoulders. 

“Why?” He questioned, daring to reach out from the gaps of the metal bars to take hold of the locks his hands had often brushed when in the privacy of your chambers. It was still as soft as before, and it still managed to tickle his palms and ease his mind. 

You took in a deep breath before you answered. “They say hair holds memories… I… I only thought that if I cut it off, it would mean I’d as well be cutting the memory of you,” You confessed, feeling as Aemond’s fingers stagger and retreat back as you said the words. You dared to look upon his lilac eye, anguish evident upon the orb. “Did it?” He questioned, and you let out a breath of a laugh as you feel tears are quick to form in your eyes. “No,” 

“No matter what I do— no matter how many lords I try to entertain— not even a proposal could make me forget you.” You managed to say, your gaze falling upon the dirt ground as you could not bear to look upon the man who had once left. 

Aemond held on tighter to the metal bars at your words, his heart sinking at the mention of a proposal, that it could not even be consoled with your confession that you could never forget him. 

“Lord Andrew proposed?” He asked, trying his best not to let his emotion be heard. “He did,” You nodded. “What was your reply?” He asked, and you shook your head, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. 

“Why did you come back, Aemond. You left, you returned, then you left again. Why—What more could you want? I had told you to marry Lady Cassandra. To let us forget what has happened. Why… why couldn’t you just let us both live in peace?” You yelled, your fury echoing through the small, dark space.

“I do not want peace! I do not want Lady Cassandra! Gods, I did not even want to be a lord! All I want is you, my heart. Can you still not see that? I… I returned because I want you— I need you. I need to be by your side.” 

“I was happy enough to be your knight— to be by your side ‘till the end of my days, but try as I might, I cannot be content with only being your sworn protector. I could not stand by the side as they marry you off to some lord. I… I left to take my brother’s post— to become a lord because I knew that would at least give me a fighting chance for your hand.” You stayed silent at Aemond’s words, a multitude of questions that were answered before, but it still plagued your mind. 

“I ignored you for years because I could not face you yet. I had to rebuild my family’s name, to make a reputation for our house that would not be dismissed by the small council when I ask for your hand.” Aemond added with a grievous sigh. 

“Then Lady Cassandra’s father came. Insisted that I must marry her because my brother had escaped their betrothal. I did not want it, my heart. I tried to offer my younger brother instead, but I heard word that you were married off to another, and I thought my chance was gone. That… That I could never be yours again, which is the only reason why I finally agreed to their terms.”

“I thought that I had truly lost you. I… I thought that the promises made between us were simply words uttered in hope.” Aemond dared to look upon your eyes, expecting to see your ever-familiar tears, but all he could see was your hardened expression and suppressed fury.

“You’re a fool.” You could not help but say, watching as Aemond was rendered speechless and shocked at your words. “You’re a fool for leaving. You’re a fool for not answering my letters. You’re a fool for thinking that I would break my promise.” You gritted out, watching as Aemond recoiled each time you uttered offense that aimed to strike him. 

“But I am a greater fool because after all that you have done, I cannot help but still love you.” 

Aemond fell to his knees. His unshed tears rimming his eye, head pointed towards the dirt floor, and only when he felt your hand under his chin did he dare to look up. 

“You swore to me that you shall be my side ‘till the end of your days… you may have had lapses these years past, but I hope that you would still stay true to your word.” You say through tears as you crouched down to meet his lone gaze, a small smile upon your lips as you watched him rest his forehead against the steel bars. You doing the same as a plea to be closer to him, to finally feel his skin upon yours once more. 

“The only thing that will keep me from your side will be death, my heart— perhaps not even then,” Aemond swore, voice cracking as he reached to cup your cheek, wanting once more to feel and taste your lips, but he had to settle for feeling the warmth of your skin against his cold, calloused hand.

You bit your lip as you saw the sincerity in his eye, the same sincerity that made you fall for him years before. You wanted to speak, to pull him closer, to do everything you could not do when he was gone. But it would seem the gods and the fates wished for you to exhaust your patience as you two heard the door of the cells open, revealing your father.

“Set him free— by gods, this is an abuse of power, my son!” You hear your father boom as you and Aemond still cling to each other, despite the iron bars that keep you separated. “Deepest apologies, my lord… my son was— was led by his emotions,” The king sighed as your older brother reluctantly fished out the key to set your love free.

“It’s fine, my king,” Aemond said after a moment, a rare smile on his lips. His fingers ached to pull you closer to him, but even after all was revealed, he hesitated as he had before the eyes of your kin. “See father, he is happy enough in there, why must we set him free?” The prince questioned, and you could not help but roll your eyes and pinch your brother’s side in annoyance. 

The king shook his head. “You must set him free because I believe your sister would not wish for her wedding ceremonies to take place in the royal cells.” Your father smiled, pleased to see his only daughter have a chance with the kind of love he once lost. 

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Wait

Synopsis: It's been a long time coming, but... Warnings: Confessions PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART

They said time can heal all wounds. But Aemond believed that whoever said such folly was a fool. Time could never undo the wound he inflicted upon the only one he had ever loved. 

When the day of his wedding came, Aemond was overcome with either courage or cowardice, for he did not show. He had left once more. He rode at dawn, back to his house’s seat, and refused to answer any question as to why he had left and denied audience to anyone who sought him out. 

On the night of what was supposed to be the wedding, the princess had to witness once more as another carried the burden of being left by Aemond Targaryen. In truth, she felt pity for Lady Cassandra. She found another who felt the anguish of having been sold the broken promises of Aemond. The princess wanted to console her, to offer comfort to the woman who was to be Aemond’s wife, but she could not. Perhaps it was her pride that hindered her, perhaps it was bitterness; she was not certain. All she could do was pray that the lady’s hurt would not be as severe as hers. 

She knew nothing of Lady Cassandra and Lord Aemond’s understanding, but in her heart, she believed that it was nothing compared to what she and Aemond had. A foolish thought. But she supposed some of his promises made years before were still in the back of her mind, and her stubborn heart was still hanging onto false words.

Lady Cassandra’s house demanded that he answer their calls and marry their daughter. A trial was even laid out because of this; it was quite a scandal, as Lord Targaryen was summoned back to the Capitol, but he ignored their demands once more. They had sought the king's intervention, knowing none could deny him, but it astonished all when the king denied them.

He reasoned to the court that the young lord had made up his mind. That no matter the treaties and agreements made, it shall be cruel to condemn two people to a marriage that is unsuited. But in his heart, he forgoed the trial as a kindness to his daughter. He had seen the hurt she had succumbed to when Aemond had left; he had seen how sadness ate at her, especially when he returned. He did not wish to place further melancholia in his beloved daughter, and so, he had decided to let Lord Targaryen be. To not let him face the consequences of his actions, just as long as he never sets foot in the Capitol once more. 

Another year passed quickly, and it would seem the whole ordeal was forgotten, only remembered in silent moments when the court had grown tired of recent gossip and, for a brief moment, resurrected the scandal for judgment before forgetting it once more.  Even Lady Cassandra had forgotten that she had been left at the altar by the lord; not even a moon had passed, and the lady was once again dressed in white as her father found her a lord from another land who whisked her away from the pity of being left.

Aemond, however, was not heard from again. In his home, his subjects barely saw him; the lord had thrown himself into work, bettering his estate and his lordship with each passing day. Though he never actually addressed his men, they sometimes doubted if Lord Aemond was still present, yet they still did his bidding. He would send trusted men to do his orders, attending court, seeing to his farmers and citizens, and obliging invitations from other lords and even the crown. 

The kingdom had convinced itself that the lord was in hiding, ashamed of his actions as he left a maiden by the altar. But in truth, Aemond was simply biding his time. He was bettering his house, his claim, himself because he knew one day, he must face the court once more when he finally asked the hand of the only woman he ever loved. An action he should have done years before, but was too cowardly to do so. 

As the year passed, he made his house, which was practically a cave as it was built inside a stone, into an actual home. A home that he knew his princess would want to live in. The cold, barren stone walls were changed; tapestries and art with lively and bold colors were now hung, save for a few walls that Aemond had purposely left blank because he wished for his princess’s work to be hung there. 

The dusted and discarded chambers were tidied up and were given new furnishings fit for royalty, the young lord always keeping in mind the style and colors his heart was so fond of. Even the gardens that once were filled with dead shrubs and wilted flowers now rivaled the royal gardens, for Aemond had made his gardeners plant each and every flower the princess adored. 

It was a rare occurrence, but for the first time in a year, Aemond had made his presence in his home known. He had been cooped up in his council chambers for moons, but now, he finally stepped out to inspect the changes he had ordered. His subjects froze on the spot as they noticed his presence; it was as if they saw a ghost roaming the halls. Aemond paid them no mind. He inspected the chambers he had requested be turned into a solarium and a studio, his finger trailing the newly upholstered settees and chair, his keen eye checking for anything less than perfect. When he found that everything was in order, he would nod to himself and indulge his mind with the fantasy of his princess inhabiting the spaces he had made just for her. 

He knew he was running out of time. It was now spring, and the princess’s twenty-first name day was fast approaching. It was the deciding year on whether she would be married or remain in her father’s care as a spinster. After years of static, Aemond knew he must now take action, especially as the gossip in the kingdom was turning true: Lord Andrew was to propose to his princess soon, and it would seem she would accept. 

Each time Aemond would think of such farse, the rage in him multiplied. Rage at the lord for wanting the same woman Aemond loved, and rage at himself for how foolish he was in past years to leave her. Regret hung heavy in Aemond. Three years had passed without his princess by his side— three years wasted in his foolish actions when it could have been the happiest years of his life, because if he had stayed, his princess would be his. May it be behind closed doors or in secrecy, it matters not, because she would be his in each way that mattered. 

Aemond sighed heavily, his hands balling into a fist as he marched his way back to his chambers. It was time for him to return to the Capitol. To face the court and its scrutiny. But more importantly, it was time for him to regain the heart he had lost. 

“What do you mean he accepted?” The prince asked his older brother as they were gathered in their father’s study. The king then turned to his eldest son, a scroll that bore the broken seal of House Targaryen in his hand. “He had accepted the invitation for our sister’s name day. He is not sending a proxy; he is to come himself.” The lord explained and saw the clear confusion in his brother, who took the scroll into his hands.

“But why extend him an invitation?” The king questioned, his eyes upon the portrait of his daughter that hung over the hearth of his study, dread looming in his heart as he could already foresee how the smile she had finally regained would wilt the moment she would be once again faced with her past knight. “It is custom, Father. We’ve sent him invitations to other feasts held by the crown over the past year, but he's never personally accepted; he would send another from his house to attend. We believed it would be the same.” The prince explained as he handed the scroll to his father. 

“Can we not rescind it?” The king questioned, but he already knew the answer. It would be most impertinent, especially as they considered that House Targaryen was their greatest ally when it came to masonry, Lord Aemond’s house graciously bestowing them a low price for the multitude of weapons the crown needed. 

“But why now? Our sister is finally resembling her old self— she has finally found a lord she wishes to marry— she is to be engaged!” The prince could not help but question, and the king turned to his eldest son. “Perhaps that is the reason.” The lord muttered, a sinking feeling that Lord Aemond did not accept an invitation to a feast but rather an invitation to claim what he could not before. 

The prince shook his head, ready to spew disparaging words aimed at his sister’s past knight, but at the sound of footsteps approaching and the princess peeking her head into her father’s study, he bit his tongue. “There you three are, come, Eliza and uncle have arrived!” You beamed, having been searching for your father and brother for the past half hour. 

However, as you noticed their overly stoic and serious demeanour, the smile and excitement you had wavered. “Is everything well?” You questioned cautiously as you stepped closer to the three, noticing how your father was quick to hide a scroll from your view. “Of course. We were… were simply discussing the matters of what was spent in the feast,” Your older brother said, his eyes imploring the others to agree. You then turned to your eldest brother, who nodded fervently. 

“Oh,” Was all you could say, slight guilt as you may have overindulged in the preparations for your nameday. “I apologise if I spent too much… I… It is just— It may be my last name day in your care, I thought it would be nice if w—“ You started to say, but your father was quick to stand and shake his head. “No, it’s fine, do not fret, my darling. We wish for you to have the name day celebration you want.” The king smiled as he held his daughter’s arms. “So you are not cross that I’ve spent too much on cake and the desserts?” You asked quietly. 

The king only smiled and shook his head. “No.” He said, “Now, go, welcome Eliza and my brother, we shall join you momentarily.” The king said and placed a chaste kiss upon his daughter’s head, and you nodded and hastily left your father’s study to greet your beloved cousin. 

“She’s so happy— she’s finally happy again… she’s even finally eating custard tarts—what do we do, father?” The prince could not help but question, his knees growing weak at the thought of you growing melancholic once more when faced with your past knight. “What is there to do? We cannot bar the gates, so Lord Aemond cannot enter.” The king sighed, but a questioning look overcame his face. “Can we?” He then questioned, but his eldest son shook his head. 

“Perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. Surely she should hate him by now. He had left twice. And she has Lord Andrew, he should be enough, shouldn’t he?” The prince then questioned after a brief silence.

“The line between hate and love is often blurred.” His older brother then muttered, shaking his head solemnly. “I’m afraid there is nothing we can do,” he added, but your father furiously shook his head. 

“When the lord arrives, bring him to me. I shall speak with him.” He decided, “But what if sister already sees him? It shall be moot,” The prince questioned. “Then place guards upon the gates, send out watchmen by the roads that shall alert us of his coming.” The king ordered, and the prince nodded in agreement. “I will not have my daughter’s name day be ruined. Go now, and do not act so obvious that you are aware of his coming.” 

It was two days of travel before Aemond arrived at the Capitol. It was the day before your name day, and he heard from passing travelers that the feast that was to commence was the grandest one the kingdom had seen in the past century. Aemond could not help but smile at the thought. You deserved nothing less, he thought. 

When Aemond was nearing the castle, he took the road less traveled by. He knew his attendance was not expected, and he as well knew he’d face the whispers of the court the moment he set foot into the main gates. So, he entered the castle through the East gate, where the princess’s chambers were located. 

Aemond could still recall the mornings when he would watch the princess wake and her straying towards her balcony to greet the morning light, casting her aglow with the pale golden hue. He could only sigh at the thought. He knew that his attendance at her nameday would certainly be ill-received. He knew that his year of planning to regain the love that he had lost could be moot, yet there he was. Hanging on a thread of hope that could be cut the moment his princess saw him once more. 

“My lord,” Aemond’s attention was then caught by a knight. The same knight with whom he briefly shared duties as they watched over the princess. “Ser Adam,” Aemond acknowledged as he passed his gaze towards the once incompetent knight who somehow became the Lord Commander of the castle. “The king asks for your presence,” he said, stoic and dismissive.

Aemond’s brow raised. He had only arrived; how could the king already be in want of his audience? “I shall see the king at once, but I believe it is customary that I greet the host and who this feast is for first, ser,” Aemond drawled as he adjusted his leather gloves, his eye refusing to meet the knight’s. But as a scoff left Ser Adam’s lips, Aemond was quick to find his gaze.

“The princess is preoccupied with her future betrothed’s kin; she has asked not to be disturbed. And I sincerely doubt she wishes to see the man who had left his post in the middle of the night,” Ser Adam said bitterly. “Future betrothed? Had you suddenly become clairvoyant, ser? Perhaps it is a skill one achieves when they are too neglectful of their duties,” 

Ser Adam shook his head, an unamused laugh escaping his lips. “You speak of neglected duty when it is you who has done such a thing. If I recall correctly, a deserter such as yourself should be hanged, my lord.” The lord commander boldly said. Aemond’s jaw tightened at his words. “A deserter, I am not. I had asked the King’s permission before I left.” He defended. “But not the princess’s.” Ser Adam countered, and Aemond could only bawl his fists once more. 

“Come, my lord. The king is waiting.” Ser Adam then said, a smug smirk on his lips as he had rendered the lord speechless, for he could not defend his actions. 

“Your Majesty, your highness, my lord.” Aemond bowed as he was delivered to the king’s study, his two sons by his side with a deep scowl on their faces. “Lord Aemond,” The king greeted with a nod. “Why are you here?” The prince suddenly questioned, wasting no time, as they wished to be rid of the lord before their sister could know that he was present. 

Aemond bit the inside of his cheeks at your elder brother’s candor. “I was invited, my prince.” He answered, his eye upon the obvious contempt of your brothers while your father’s lips were in a thin line. “You were invited before, but you were gracious enough to send another— why had you come now?” Your eldest brother then questioned, his brows in a deep furrow. “You could only ignore the crown’s invitation so much, my lord.” He answered simply. A silence soon overcame them, an eerie, deafening silence amongst four men who obviously had one thought in mind: the princess. 

“Leave us for a moment,” The king finally spoke, his words aimed at his sons. “But father—” The prince tried to reason, but the king gave them a dismissive nod, and the two reluctantly nodded, walking out of the study with great glares aimed towards Aemond, but not once did he waver. 

His eye followed the two as they left the king’s study; however, Aemond’s gaze was caught by the sight of your portrait that hung on the walls. It was a portrait he had never seen before. He believes it may have been made during his absence. Your hair had grown longer, your smile had become smaller, and it would seem even your eyes had grown dim. Aemond swallowed thickly and removed his longing gaze from the portrait, unable to face the consequences of his departure years before. 

“You came for my daughter,” The king then announced, standing from his chair to move closer to the young lord. Aemond did not answer; it was obvious enough why he had returned. “I would have thought you came to apologise, but an apology is long overdue, and you could have simply done so last year.”

“Why are you here, Lord Aemond?” The king questioned, looking intently upon the young lord who once held a secret understanding with his only daughter. “I…” Aemond began, his eye glancing upon your portrait once more, regaining courage at the thought of you. “I came to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Aemond met your father’s eye, uncertain what thought the king had. But as he suddenly let out a booming laugh, Aemond was stunned. “I had always known you were bold, but not once had I thought you to be shameless.” The king said, his laughter giving way to an amused tone laced with quiet anger. 

“Did you honestly believe that you can just come into my home and ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage after you had—“ the king paused, his lips pursed as he recalled the days his beloved daughter was drowned in sadness, weeping herself to sleep, waiting by the gates in hopes that the man who once swore to always be by her side to return.  

“When I granted you leave, I thought you at least had the decency to tell my daughter —that you had made your goodbyes. But for you to leave your post without her knowing? To return here as a lord who seeks my blessing to marry another? Especially after the understanding formed between you two? Do you think me a simpleton to give you my daughter’s hand after the great sadness you inflicted upon her?!” 

Aemond bit his tongue as the king screamed at him. In his days as a knight, not once has he witnessed the benevolent king lose his temper. Yes, he was stern, but never once had he felt the need to raise his voice. 

“I could overlook the illicit affair you two had formed that not only compromises my daughter but also your station as a knight. I trust my daughter and her sensibilities— I had trusted you and the honor I thought you had, which is why I had never spoken about the matter. But this? My kindness could only go as far, Aemond.” 

The king took in deep breaths after his outburst, his raging eye upon the lord who still had the gall to stand before him and ask for his daughter’s hand. The king could only sigh and shake his head as Aemond still did not speak. “Now, I ask you as a father who is protecting his child. Leave my daughter be, my lord. Let her forget your existence— let it all be in the past. Do not let this request turn into an order from your king.” 

Aemond folded his hand behind his back, his eye boldly meeting the king’s. “May I speak?” He questioned, his voice even, as if he was not threatened by the ruler of the land who could strip him of his titles or banish him with just one word. “If you must,” The king muttered. 

“I will admit, I was a coward. I could not bear the thought of saying goodbye to the princess because I knew she would let me go. I left without another word because if I didn’t, if I had to face her tears, I might have never left.” 

“So you had us be the ones to clean up your mess,” The king could not help but bitterly mutter. “I love her, your majesty,” Aemond confessed nonetheless. “I love her with all that I have. If you ask me to lay my life down in her name, I would do so without hesitation. The only reason why I came last year was because my house was urging me to take a wife, and I was led to believe that she had married another, that I had truly lost her.” He explained, a tone of desperation in Aemond’s voice that the king had only heard when his daughter was taken by a great fever years ago in the north. 

“I know I had caused her great pain, and I shall repent for it until I draw my last breath— but please do not think that my leaving did not cause me pain as well. I made foolish decisions, idiotic actions, but I had done it with the purest intentions.” Aemond admitted.

“She is the only thought my mind would let me have. She has consumed my days and nights. I had lost her once, my king, and I thought I could live with the regret of losing the only love I’ve ever known. But I can’t.” 

“I’d rather die than stay silent once more. I love her, your Majesty. You may call me a simpleton for saying as such, but I know she still loves me as well. If she didn’t, she would have married the first lord or prince the queen had chosen. But she had not. She waits for me. I was simply a coward for having her wait too long.” Aemond finished, breathing in heavily.

He felt an odd sensation for having confessed what he wished to say to the princess to her father instead. But it would seem the gods and the fates were on his side that day, because as the silent room echoed with the faint creak of hinges, two men turned to the door, where a princess who had heard everything stood in quiet shock. 

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Leave, Again

Synopsis: Leaving is easy when you feel defeated. Warnings: Slight Angst, Jealousy, Regret PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: Final Stretch

“You need not stay here— I could reason for your absence, cousin. If—“ You smiled softly at your cousin Eliza’s words as you were forced by your mother to attend tea time with the other courtiers who celebrated the upcoming nuptials of Lady Cassandra with Lord Aemond. 

You took in a deep breath and forced a tight smile as you looked upon your cousin, “I’m fine, Eliza. Besides, if I leave, I’m certain my mother would come to know and hunt me down.” You tried to jest, nervously fiddling with the teacup in your hands. You wished that each time you said that you were fine, those words would come true, but each utterance of such false words felt odd—as if the words were turning hollow the moment they left your lips. You stared into the pale liquid of your cup, watching it ripple faintly with the tremor of your hand, and wondered how much longer you could keep the facade. 

You told yourself time after time that you must only bear this burden until the wedding— that you must only keep your distance until the next day because after that, Aemond would be another’s— that you truly would no longer have a place in his life. 

You feel Eliza squeeze your hand in comfort, and you try to return your focus to the chatter around you. “Oh, I cannot wait until the day you have babes! Imagine your son having your hair with Lord Targaryen’s unique eyes!” A courtier gushed, and you stilled in your spot as everyone seemed to be keen on the conversation of the future children Lady Cassandra shall bear. 

“I, too, grow excited by the thought of it,” You hear Lady Cassandra say, a wide smile on her lips. “Though I must admit, my future husband is rather zealous with the thought of us having a daughter first— he already picked a name! Seraphina. I absolutely have no idea where he thought of the name, but he insists that it shall be the name of our first daughter!” 

You feel your stomach pit and heart clench as you hear the words. You hear Eliza’s sharp breath by your side, for your cousin knew all too well that Seraphina was the name you had decided to name your daughter ever since you two were children. You feel your hands grow cold with each passing moment. You wanted to flee— to lock yourself in the solace of your chambers once more, but you forced yourself not to waver. To let all the occurrences roll off your back, even though they had pierced themselves deep in your chest like a dagger. 

You tried to busy yourself by roaming your gaze around the gardens, once again tuning out the chatter they spoke of. Your eyes followed the fluttering butterflies that flew from flower to flower. For a moment, that calmed the turmoil in your mind; however, as the kaleidoscope of butterflies you followed flew towards a man with silver hair and a lilac eye, you ceased breathing. You quickly removed your gaze from him, turning to face your cousin for comfort, who, too, noticed his presence. 

“Speaking of my betrothed— there he is now,” Lady Cassandra announced as she stood and hurriedly went her way to greet Aemond, who held a bouquet of pink peonies. You traced the embroidery of your dress and forced yourself not to look in their direction, ignoring the gushing words of the ladies about how smitten the soon-to-be-wedded couple looked. 

Aemond swallowed thickly as his eye darted from the bouquet in his hands that he aimed to deliver to your chambers just as he did before, to his betrothed’s expecting gaze. “How lucky I am to have my future husband deliver me flowers so unexpectedly!” Cassandra exclaimed loud enough for the group gathered a few yards away to hear. She did not even wait for Aemond to speak or to hand her the bouquet, for she readily took it from his hand. 

Aemond’s eye could not help but seek you out once more, your head lowered and your fingers once again tracing the delicate embroideries of your dress. He knew you were present in the gardens not by your own volition, but he could not help but wonder whether your mother knew the extent of his and your understanding. And if she were privy to it, how cruel she must be to force you to be face-to-face with the woman he must marry.

“How… how have you been faring with the court?” Aemond finally spoke, forcing himself to speak with Cassandra as he hoped she would speak of you and your attendance. “It’s lovely! However, the princess is quite a bore— if it were up to me, she wouldn’t attend; however, the queen escorted her here,” Cassandra informed, rolling her eyes as she mentioned your presence. “You should feel flattered— the princess does not need to humor you with her attendance, but she was still gracious enough to attend and stay,” Aemond said lowly, catching the way your cousin glared at him before whispering something in your ear. 

“Oh, come on, my darling. You are no longer at her service— you need not speak so highly of her. I know how you must have suffered when you were her knight. I could not even imagine how tedious and torturous it must be to be her guard— no wonder you fled her.” Aemond’s nails dug into his palms as he restrained himself from showing any reactions to Cassandra’s words. He wanted to scream at her— defend you until he could no longer breathe— to say that the moments he was your knight, when he was yours, were the happiest moments he had. Yet here he was, forced to hold his tongue and could only softly shake his head in disagreement. 

“Well, I would not keep you for long— the other ladies are waiting… I shall see you tomorrow, husband,” Cassandra said, and Aemond recoiled as the words left her lips. He gave a nod and hurriedly tried to walk away, but he was taken aback as he felt Cassandra place her lips on his cheek, blushing as she hurriedly returned to her group, who laughed at her actions. When Aemond left the gardens, he quickly wiped his cheek and cringed at the sensations his betrothed left. He took in a deep breath to calm his raging heart and the turmoil in his mind that screamed for him to forsake his duty and beg you to take him back. 

He had countless thoughts of stealing you away— the two of you fleeing this kingdom and living your days by each other’s side. But as he recalled the hurt he had caused you, on how he had left without a word, ignored you for years, and returned with the news that he would be bound to another, he knew that no matter the penance he would do, it would be moot, for he had hurt you. All he could do was pray to the gods for forgiveness and hope one day your hate for him would fade, something his love for you could never do. 

When the gathering for Lady Cassandra had ended, you found yourself straying to the library, wishing for the solace of quiet. You sat at a windowsill, a boon in one hand whilst the other stroked the soft fur of your cat, Sapphira. You let your mind focus upon the words on parchment and not the thought of how tomorrow, Aemond would be married.

How you wished your damned thoughts no longer strayed towards him. It only brought an ache in your heart and a twinge in your gut. You tried to drown your thoughts by mindlessly humming a tune, any tune you could remember, but it was not enough. Your thoughts then strayed to going to the maester’s tower to perhaps ask them of any herb or concoction that will relieve your muddled mind. Perhaps milk of the poppy to induce sleep, but even in slumber, you knew the thought of Aemond would follow you. 

You sighed grievously. You knew you desperately needed a distraction to aid you from that day to the next. You thought hard as to where to go, whom to find, but it would seem it had found you first.

“Princess?” You hear a hushed, soft voice call. Your eyes flickered from the book in your hand to Lord Andrew, who now stood before you, cautious and guarded as he had debated whether he should approach. “Lord Andrew,” You greeted and stood, Sapphira quickly jumping off your lap. You then remembered how you had promised the lord that you would break your fast with him, but the occurrences earlier that day, when you were confronted by Aemond, had left you wistful that morning. 

“Apologies, my lord, for I had not met with you in the morning,” You said, remorseful as you had broken your word. Lord Andrew only gave a sheepish smile. “No apologies needed, princess. I… I may have been too forward in asking your audience,” He smiled softly, and you shook your head. 

“But I feel rotten, please, you must at least let me make it up to you. You and your house are guests in my home after all.” You said as you closed your book, your eyes upon Lord Andrew’s warm brown ones. You slight heat rose to your cheeks as he smiled, a wide smile, whilst his eyes were on the ground, as if he were too shy to meet your gaze.

“If you insist, then might you escort me through the castle’s gallery? Lady Eliza tells me how unparalleled the crown’s collection was, and I wish to see it for myself,” He said, and the mention of the gallery, your melancholy seemed to fade. You nodded, and the lord led out for you to take, and for once, you did not hesitate. 

“You enjoy art, my lord?” You asked as you and Lord Andrew walked the halls of your home, garnering the curious glances of the court. “I do, princess.” He answered curtly, and a small, approving smile came to your lips. 

As you entered the gallery, you wasted no time in touring the room, sharing with him the facts of each piece, starting with your favourite, a portrait of your great-grandmother and her husband. “So it is true, you are the second coming of your great-grandmother, princess.” Lord Andrew smiled as he looked upon the past queen seated on her throne with her husband standing by her side. 

“You flatter me, my lord, but I do not believe I shall compare.” You say honestly. Ever since you were a child, you had always admired your great-grandmother, the first ever crowned queen of your kingdom. You admired her greatly because of her strength and courage, in how she had led her people and how she had fought for what she had loved, your grandfather, her past knight. 

Lord Andrew smiled as he glanced at you, and you could not help but notice the crinkle in his eyes. “You paint, do you not, princess?” He asked as you two drifted to another portrait. “I do,” You confirmed and had a feeling that an eye was upon you, but you ignored the familiar yet pestering feeling that comes when Aemond was near. “Are any of your works hung here?” 

You shook your head. “I’m afraid I am not as masterful with the art for my work to be hung here, my lord.” You said softly. “With all due respect, I sincerely doubt that, princess. I have seen the portraits you did of your nephew and niece; it's as if the babes were frozen in time. Do not tell my cousin that I have told you this, but he has a habit of looking upon the portraits because he feels his children are growing too fast,” Lord Andrew said, and you smiled at his compliments, your fingers tracing the embroidery of your dress as a thought came into mind. 

“Well, if you truly wish to see some of my works, I could bring you to my studio,” You said nervously, your turn to feel you were being too forward. Your words brought another wide smile on the lord’s lips, him eagerly nodding and letting his arm once more. 

Lord Aemond, who had been hiding behind a pillar, felt rage consume him. He had seen you two walking down the halls, and the court seemed to freeze as you passed, for they had never seen their princess willingly be in the presence of the lord, yet there she was, a pleased expression on her face as she conversed with Lord Andrew. Now, as Aemond heard you offering to bring the lord who was practically a stranger to the privacy of your studio, he felt as if he could jump off the highest tower of the keep. 

“Apologies, my lord, it may be quite dusty in there, for I have not painted in a while,” You confessed, your hand hovering over the handle of your once frequented studio, because when Aemond had left, you could not bring yourself to stray and stay in the room. When you slowly open the door, you feel nostalgia hit as the smell of oil paints, wood frames, and canvases greets you along with dust. 

Lord Andrew was silent as he entered, his eyes keenly taking in the space. You, however, stood rigidly by the side, your eyes on the floor as you could not bear to think you had abandoned a thing you had once loved with all your heart. 

“These are… these are utterly incredible, princess,” Lord Andrew said lowly, awe evident in his voice as he assessed a pile of canvases. You smiled meekly. “No need for false flattery, my lord. I shall not punish you if you utter the truth,” You jested as he took a portrait of the gardens in his hands. “It is not false flattery, your highness. I— these are… they belong in the gallery. They are remarkable.” He said further as he turned his astonished eyes upon you, whose cheeks heated at his words. You could only smile, not certain what to say because you felt as if his words were false, too critical of your work. 

As he gently placed the portrait down, the lord wandered further into the room, but his eyes were caught by the abandoned canvas upon an easel. “What of this princess?” He questioned, and you took in a sharp breath as you turned your gaze to where he stood. You felt bile rising to your throat as you now recalled the final artwork you had tried to make. 

It was only a sketch; it was devoid of color, but it was still vivid in your mind. It was the sketch of your past knight’s outline. You could still remember the day inspiration eluded you. Your muse was nowhere to be found, but you did not fret because another had taken its place. Aemond. You remembered how hard you tried to convince him to stand before the canvas, his face to the side, and he was aglow with the sun, whilst you tried in earnest to trace the outline of his face. 

“It’s nothing, I… It’s just a silly sketch,” You say as you take the dusted canvas in your hands and place it by the side, hiding what you intended to paint. Lord Andrew was quick to catch the rigidity in your voice, but instead of asking you about it, he only smiled and took a handkerchief from his pocket. 

You were fervently dusting off your hands, but you froze as you felt the lord take hold of your hands, his movements hesitant and his eyes seeking your approval as he softly wiped away the dust. You smiled sheepishly as he finished, your eyes upon the ground as you could not bear to look at his. 

Aemond, who was a witness to such a scene, wanted to take one of you blank canvases and use it to hit the lord’s head. Never in his life had he felt rage such as this. Blinding rage that demanded violence. And never in his life could he imagine that the only girl he would love would blush and let another touch her skin. 

Aemond wanted to announce his presence. To pull away his princess from the lord. To take the discarded canvas into his hands and proclaim that the sketch was of him. That he was once the princess’s muse. That someone had once loved him so greatly that they wished to immortalize him in art. But he couldn’t. All that he could do was leave. Leave once more because that is what his princess— his heart, had wished. 

[romanteacism]

Hi, I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you truly. Thank you for taking the time to write, to create such beautiful stories and unforgettable characters. Your words have meant so much to me.

I deeply admire your talent and the heart you pour into everything you write. Your stories don’t just entertain they stay with me, they comfort me, and sometimes they even help me heal. Finding your work has been such a gift, and I’m so grateful for it.

Thank you for writing, for sharing your imagination with the world, and for reminding me why I love reading so much, I know that writing is not an easy job so thank you again

Omg ur gonna make me tear up!! Thank u so much— u don’t know how much that means to me!! 😭🫶🏻

[romanteacism]

A Butterfly and a Dragon's Flight Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Summary: The truth is always hard to believe. Word Count: 4,858 Warnings: I don't want to put warnings anymore, let's just keep the mystery

Elinora knew she should not do such things, but she forwent all of her good sensibilities and went to the tiltyard where she knew Prince Aemond trained. Elinora walked along the halls of her home with Peony in her clutch. She woke up with boldness and determination in her veins, as she could no longer ignore the pull the prince had. Elinora was woken at dawn, her night sleep disrupted as her subconscious seemed to only think of the prince. Even in her dreams, Prince Aemond was persistently present. And so, in an act of defiance, Elinora broke her promise to her brother to keep the prince at arm’s length as she herself sought him out. 

Elinora drew in deep, calming breaths as she was greeted with questions by those present in the tiltyard. Everyone in Highgarden knew that their young lady had no wish for violence, which is why it was peculiar to see her venturing towards that side of the keep. “Good morrow, my lady,” A knight greeted Elinora. She smiled and gave a nod, but she was still followed. “Is something the matter? You do not usually ven—“ Ser Gerard tried to question, genuinely concerned at the sudden appearance of Elinora in the training yard. 

“Oh, nothing… I was just… I thought I would have a change of scenery this morning,” She reasoned, hands growing cold as she was under the calculating gaze of one of their guards. Ser Gerard reluctantly nodded, but was still suspicious, and let the girl go her way. Elinora chewed on her cheeks and traveled her light jade eyes along the grounds in search of a prince; however, her hopeful gaze was spurned as she saw the prince train while being circled by maidens who gushed and eyed him enthusiastically as he sparred with a knight.  

Aemond let out a huff as his movements were being restricted by the crowd that gathered around him. He could not truly understand why they would let an audience gather in the training grounds, as it was quite cumbersome for those whose goal was truly to better their handle with the sword, but alas, he could not blatantly shoo away the women who gathered around him. Aemond made certain to cast his eye on every move his opponent made. However, he grew distracted as a stray butterfly flew between him and the knight he sparred with. As if upon instinct, Aemond’s head turned towards where the butterfly flew, and he saw Elinora by the side, shoulders deflated as she walked away. 

It took Aemond a moment to realize what had happened and why Elinora was present in the tiltyard, but once he realized that perhaps she came from him, Aemond quickly dropped his sword and tried to follow the girl, but the court ladies present seemed desperate for his attention and made a wall so he could not follow Elinora. If Aemond had his way, he would have taken his sword and struck down those who stood before him and Elinora. However, decorum and propriety held him back. 

Elinora, feeling defeated and rather idiotic as she attempted to go against her sensibilities, returned to the gardens, her rightful place, and tried to forget her foolishness.  She sat alone with Peony, their squire brought her tea along with a saucer of milk for her pet, and Elinora once again preoccupied herself with her little cat. The absence of her brother and Prince Daeron was noted that morning as Edward asked his friend to join him as they planned the tourney for Lord Redwyne’s name day. It was not truly customary for their house to oversee such arrangements, but seeing as Lord Redwyne was one of the most loyal adversaries of their father, and he as well oversaw Highgarden whilst the Tyrells were away, their father thought it best to repay him with a celebration for him. 

“Would you mind if I join you, my lady?” Elinora suddenly heard as she was making herself a cup of tea, she raised her gaze and saw Lord Tristan Redwyne standing before her with a small smile and a hopeful glint in his eyes. It took a moment for Elinora to respond as she would truly rather be left alone, but it would be bad manners if she should deny the young lord, and so, she gave a small nod.

As Prince Aemond wandered into the gardens and saw the scene, he gritted his jaw in anger and annoyance that another had taken his place, and his opportunity of spending the morning with Elinora could not be. He was ready to return to his training and pour his frustrations onto the poor knight he spared with, but his determination and stubbornness would not let him, and so, he went towards Elinora’s place. 

When he arrived, the lord was in the midst of speaking, but he ceased as he noticed Elinora’s gaze turned to the prince she had sought earlier. The same hope sparked in the girl’s eyes, and Aemond felt his heart announce itself as he locked eyes with Elinora’s enchanting jade eyes. “Might I join you, my lady?” He questioned, completely ignoring the presence of the other lord.

“Of course—“ Elinora suddenly said, but she knew she was too eager in her reply. “If you wish to,” She then added, a blush coming to her cheeks as he saw the familiar smirk on the prince’s thin lips. 

“My prince, this is Lord Tristan Redwyne,” Elinora introduced the two who sat across from one another. The prince by her right and the lord by her left. “My prince… have you come from the tiltyard?” Lord Tristan asked, and Aemond gave a nod. There was a knowing grin on the lord’s lips that annoyed Aemond beyond reason. “I see you had grown quite popular with ladies of the court here in Highgarden… they rarely, if ever, venture towards the tiltyard, but ever since your arrival, it would seem they would flock to the training grounds in herds.” Elinora lowered her gaze at the lord’s words. An unwelcome tinge of jealousy sparked within her, and she distracted herself by twiddling the ends of her hair.

“I’ve never really noticed… You see, my lord, when I train, the only thought in my mind is my sword and my opponent.” Aemond clarified because he had a suspicion that the lord was insinuating that he was some kind of philanderer, just like his brother. 

Lord Tristan hummed, his eyes flying between the prince, who had his eye firmly placed on Elinora, who had her gaze lowered and her fingers twiddling with the ends of her silky hair. “Have you attended mass earlier, my lady?” Lord Tristan asked, and Aemond’s fists tightened as there was a shift in the lord’s voice. Gone was the cocky tone, and instead, there was a clear endearing softness in it that was obviously reserved only for his girl. 

“I have not… but I do plan to attend later afternoon, before supper,” Elinora explained, and Lord Tristan gave an understanding smile and a nod. “But there is one now, if you’d like, I could accompany you, my lady.” Elinora froze for a moment, not wanting to agree with the lord’s proposition, but did not wish to offend him as well. When she met his expectant gaze, Elinora fiddled with her fingers as she was ready to concede because the teachings instilled within her had won, and she could not say no without a good reason. However, Prince Aemond quickly stood as he realized that his Elinora could never say no, even if she wished to. 

“Actually, my lord, I am to accompany Lady Elinora… we have grown a custom in the capitol of feeding the ducks. Come, Elinora,” Aemond stated, and led out his hand, in which Elinora did not hesitate to take. “Perhaps another time, Lord Tristan,” Aemond said smugly as he refused to let go of Elinora’s hand. If anything, he only pulled the girl closer to him to make his message clear to the lord that Elinora was his. 

Elinora gave a wry smile before Prince Aemond whisked her away to finally have a moment where it was just the two of them, just as they had wished. “I… I saw you in the tiltyard earlier,” Aemond stated as he decided to break the silence as they made their way to the pond. Elinora chewed on the insides of her cheeks as she decided what to say. “Really? I thought you said that when you are training, the only thing you see is your weapon and opponent?” She asked, growing a bit of courage as she asked the question. 

Aemond bit back his smirk as he raised his brow. “Aye, but there are a few exceptions,” The prince remarked, feeling his heart skip a beat at what he was trying to imply. “And what are they, my prince?” Elinora questioned, genuinely curious, as the pang of jealousy as he saw women surrounding Prince Aemond had still not subsided. If anything, it only spiked as he said that there were exceptions— her mind muddled with the thought that the dutiful prince who had done his best to master his sword would disregard it because a pretty lady came his way. 

“Perhaps when a certain lady ventures to the grounds,” Aemond said, in his mind he was clearly implying that it was only Elinora who could capture his attention when he was training with the sword but as he watched as her gaze flew downward and a somber ‘oh’ left her lips, he realzied she had not understood what he had trying to say. 

“I meant you, Elinora,” Aemond clarified, wanting to cackle at how the look of disappointment on her face was quickly washed away, and in turn, a look of realization and quiet shock took its place. “Oh,” Elinora said once more, but this time her tone turned to understand what the prince had meant. Elinora was uncertain what more to say, but a noticeable blush came to her cheeks, and the prince wanted badly to cup her cheeks and feel the heat of it against his cold hands. But instead, they both preoccupied themselves with feeding the ducks and relished in the peaceful silence that they had settled into. 

“What else do you do here?” Aemond suddenly questioned as they had finished feeding the ducks, and Elinora had watched them start to slowly swim away. “Well, obviously, you tend to the ducks, then to your prayers, you read to the babes in the afternoon, and I believe you do your embroideries after… but what else?” Aemond questioned Elinora as she looked upon him in surprise and question, as he fully knew her routine. “Daeron informed me,” The prince quickly explained, a fib on his lips because, in the past days, all he did was trail her from afar to learn her customs. 

“Oh, well… we attend parties and events that disrupt those routines. Sometimes, brother would humor me with a round or two of cards, and occasionally, Agnes lets me accompany her in the kitchens to bake…” Elinora trailed, now feeling insecure that perhaps her daily routines were too dull for the prince. “You never venture to the town?” Elinora shook her head, “I’m not allowed to… and if I do dare to, I’m afraid I shall be easily recognized.” She confessed. “The knights are diligent in patrolling the streets since brother and Daeron often venture there,” Elinora further explained, and the prince hummed. “But if you are finding it dull here—“ 

“I am not,” Aemond quickly said, and Elinora nodded, a smile wanting to break free on her lips as she was met with the wide lilac eye of the prince, as he did not wish for her to think he was bored in her home. “There is a week of feasting and tourney starting tomorrow— it is for the name say of Lord Redwyne, Lord Tristan’s father.” Elinora finished, and Aemond nodded. “That is why brother and Daeron are not present for the moment, they are preparing for the festivities,” Elinora explained, and Aemond stilled as he had thought that it was by some miracle that Edward was not guarding his sister like a hound. Aemond saw it as a rather fortunate opportunity. If Edward was absent and distracted, he could finally do what he came for— the whole reason why he had flown to the Reach: to finally make Elinora his. And he no longer had to fret over Edward manipulating and pulling his sister away. 

“Then… if my brother is currently engaged at the moment… could you be the one to accompany me today?” Aemond boldly asked, expectantly looking upon Elinora, who debated with herself. “I… that depends— what are you set to do, my prince?” Elinora asked cautiously. Aemond hummed, “Well, I have trained, we have fed the duck… If I were home, I would accompany my grandsire with the matters for the crown, but seeing that I am here… perhaps I shall accompany you instead.” 

Elinora was taken aback by the prince’s proposition, and she was quick to sputter out excuses in shame as she believed the prince would find accompanying her dull and unsuited for him, but in truth, all Aemond wanted to do was be in her company. “I do not think that wise… You might find my engagements unsuited or perhaps even dull,” She reasoned, and Prince Aemond only shook his head. He watched Elinora purse her lips for a moment, and he saw conflict in her eyes. However, the prince let out a breath of relief as Elinora hesitantly nodded. 

Aemond trailed Elinora as she ventured towards the chapel for her prayers, the room eerily silent as men and women kneeled before the altar, and Aemond only followed suit as Elinora lowered herself and began to pray. Aemond shifted in his spot, his eye closed, and his hands clasped as he thought about what to pray. It was not that he was unfamiliar with the art of praying; in truth, he often did the act when he was younger or when his mother would ask him to join her, but he just could not focus on praying when Elinora was by his side. With their shoulders brushing with each breath they took, and her scent invading his senses, Aemond could hardly even focus on taking even breaths as he was too consumed with the thought of her. 

Aemond partly opened his lone eye, taking a peek at Elinora, whose head was still bowed. Her lips slightly parted, her lashes fanning her rosy cheeks, and her brows in a slight furrow as she prayed. Aemond bit the inside of his cheeks as he once again shifted in his place. “Are you bored?” Elinora then silently asked, and Aemond quickly stilled as he opened his eye, and Elinora’s head was still bowed. If it were anyone else, he would think it was just the wind. “Of course not,” Aemond then whispered, but Elinora knew in herself that it was not true as she constantly felt the prince shifting in his place and even saw him looking upon her as she prayed, her sneaking a peek at the prince through her lashes. 

“If you wish to leave, you may do so, my prince… I do not think the gods would take offense,” Elinora whispered and tried to return to her prayers, hoping the prince would heed her advice because it was proven to be impossible for her to tend to her prayers when her thoughts were filled by Prince Aemond, on how his icy stare would cause an odd warmness course through her and how his scent of spice, wood, and mint made her ironicaly tense but at the same time lax. “But would you?” Prince Aemond whispered as he had no true care if he disrespected the gods, he only cared if Elinora would take affront if he had left. 

Elinora was not certain what to reply. Though the presence of the prince distracted her, greatly so, she still had no wish for him to leave her company. And so, Elinora stayed silent and unmoving, and Aemond bit back a smile at the lack of her response as he took it as her silent way of saying that she’d wish for him to stay by her side. 

“Stop being so difficult, Edward,” Daeron sighed as his friend had been ignoring him and his statements regarding the profound connection between their siblings. Ever since Daeron had learned the truth that they planned for him to marry Elinora, he had been determined to sway Edward’s mind so that, in turn, he could convince those who would make the plans not to go forward with their doomed decisions.

“Then stop pestering me,” Edward gritted out as he and the youngest prince of the realm were inspecting the tournament grounds for the tourney tomorrow. “I am only pestering you because it seems to me that the severity of what you and our family are plotting is flying over your head!” Daeron exclaimed and forcefully took a scroll that Edward was reading, which was filled with contenders for the match happening on the morrow. “I do not know what else to tell you, Daeron— their plans are beyond my reach! It was their decision to betroth you to Elinora once her betrothal with Prince Jacaerys is truly dissolved.” 

“Lies! Your father and mother always ask for your thoughts and advice! They care for your opinions, especially when it comes to your sister. You must implore them that a marriage between me and Eli is not suited! And if they truly wish for her to marry a prince, then my older brother is more than happy to do so!” Daeron said, partly speaking out of turn as he insinuated that Aemond wished to marry Elinora, but all he truly knew was that he loved her— he took that as an indication as well that he too wished to have Eli to wife, even if he did not truly utter it. 

Edward scoffed, still in disbelief at Daeron’s words. “Is my sister truly that disagreeable to you that you are so desperate to be rid of her?” Edward instead questioned. He knew the answer; he only wished to quiet Daeron down, for his constant pestering was bringing Edward an ache in his head. “You know that is not what I meant! I have told you, I love Elinora as if she is my own blood— but I have no wish to marry her as I am certain that she has no wish to marry me!” 

Edward shook his head and once again tried to walk away from his friend, but Daeron only followed in pursuit. “What must my brother do to prove to you that he has pure intentions towards Elinora? You cannot simply stew in your prejudice for the rest of your life, Edward— because this matter not only affects you, but also mine and Eli’s life!” 

Edward gritted his jaw. He was not stewing in his prejudice as Daeron had implied. He was simply being cautious as he had no wish for his sister to be bound to a man whom none of them had the faintest idea of how he truly was. At least with Daeron, they know his true manner— that even if he has no wish to be bound to Elinora, he will not do anything rash to dishonor or hurt her. And if Elinora shall marry Daeron, they shall only live in Old Town, a place nearby, and his sister could adapt more suitably. He had seen the toll their stay in the capitol had placed on Elinora. On how the ladies of the court had shown her cruelty, how the men had desired her so openly, and how the small folk had petrified her, that was no place for Elinora. And Prince Aemond was not a suitable match for his delicate sister. 

“I only ask you to give them a chance, Edward. Elinora herself had told you how she still holds love for my brother, and I have explained to you time and time again that he shares the same sentiment. What must Aemond do to gain your trust?” Edward looked intently upon the purple eyes of his closest friend; his eyes desperately imploring him to rethink his opinions on Aemond. “Nothing. I have told you, I am not the one who needs convincing. It was your grandsire’s plans, Daeron. It is beyond my power.”

“You are leaving us with little choice, Edward… with your silence, you doom the lives of three: my brother… your sister… and me.”

“This… this is wrong, my prince,” Elinora breathed out, dazed. She could feel her erratic heartbeat pulse through her lips. Her skin riddled with gooseflesh, and eyelids wishing desperately to close, just so her mind could properly process each sensation that she only now felt. 

The prince’s hand that cupped her warm cheeks only pulled her closer to him, letting their noses brush, his lips desperate to feel Elinora’s once more. “Do you wish for us to cease, ñuha sōvion?” Aemond was able to breathe out, still in disbelief that he was blessed enough to feel and share Elinora’s kisses once more. Elinora raised her gaze. With just one glance upon the imploring lilac gaze of the prince, all she could do was shake her head and pull him flush to her so she could kiss his lips. 

Neither was certain how both had ended up in the prince’s chamber and in each other’s arms. Elinora had only explained that the prince’s guest chambers had a secret passageway that led to the kitchens— something similar to the tunnels in the Red Keep. Elinora only dared to step foot inside the chambers of the prince without an escort, for she only wished to show the prince where it was placed— she did not mean to retrace old patterns. 

Aemond parted for a moment and tilted his head to the heavens, in disbelief at what was transpiring, but still sent a brief thanks to the gods. He dipped his head once more, moving to capture Elinora’s lips, but as both of them heard a pounding on the door and the desperate calls of Daeron for his brother to let him enter, the kisses between Elinora and Aemond were cut short. 

Elinora’s wide eyes immediately went towards the door that served as the only thing that hid her actions. Her jade eyes then flew towards the secret passage, but it was covered by a heavy dresser. When she felt the prince’s hold on her waist loosen, only then did she place her gaze upon him. “Behind the curtains,” Aemond said, a slight tone of panic that Elinora had never heard now present in his silky voice. She could only nod and let Aemond lead her behind the thick, velvet curtains to hide her from view. 

Aemond breathed in a deep breath before answering the door, placing on an act that he was awoken from an afternoon rest because of his brother. “What is it, brother?” Aemond gritted out, trying his best to sound annoyed even if his heart was beating loudly in his chest.

“They wish to marry me to Elinora!” Daeron suddenly exclaimed as he entered his brother’s room, unaware that Elinora was present, and was placed in deep shock at his words. If the girl was not flushed against a wall, she feared that she could have collapsed at the words he heard Daeron utter. Aemond’s eye widened, his head wanting to turn to where Elinora had hidden, but he restrained himself. He quickly tried to reach his brother, who paced back and forth in his chambers, and push him outside once more before he revealed more information that he did not wish for Elinora to hear. 

“After they had dissolved her first betrothal with Jacaerys— they will bind her to me… me, Aemond!” Daeron frowned as he saw no surprise in his older brother’s lone eye, and he further frowned as he felt Aemond trying to push him toward the door once more. “I am betrothed to Prince Jacerys?” Elinora suddenly appeared, making two silver princes halt in their steps. One was filled with shock as he heard her voice, while the other was filled with dread as she uttered such words. 

“Eli…I— what…” Daeron trailed, his gaze going between the two who were in a chamber, alone. “Is all that you say true?” Elinora questioned, watching Aemond move away from his brother’s side but instead go to her. “I— what are you doing here?” Daeron instead questioned, feeling dread as he had been the one to unknowingly inform Elinora of the wretched plans their families had and will make. 

“Is what you say true, Daeron?” Elinora questioned once more, feeling dread overcome her. She looked upon the purple eyes of her friend, then the lone lilac eye of the prince, and even if neither man said anything, she knew that what he uttered was true. “Th… I— WHAT?!” Elinora’s voice, which grew to an exclamation, caught the attention and concern of the two princes, having both witnessed the first actual time Elinora had screamed and let out her frustrations. “They… They betrothed me to Prince Jacaerys— hiding his true identity from me my whole life, and now they plan to be rid of that betrothal and instead marry me to you?! Without them even asking how I felt with such a match!?” 

Aemond held Elinora by her arm as she spewed her grievances, looking upon his brother in shock as neither would think that such discoveries would form anger in Elinora— both had believed she would be filled with melancholy or sadness, but not rage. “Where— Where is my brother?” Elinora then questioned, her hands trembling as the shock and anger in her system could not settle. She felt the prince’s hand hold hers, but she could not even look upon him. “By the tourney grounds— but he cannot be reasoned to, Eli… I’ve pleaded with him to speak with your parents ever since I came to know the truth the other night, but Edward does not even wish to acknowledge anything I say.” 

“They cannot marry me to you! I— not when y—“ Elinora hurriedly ceased speaking, eyes now further wide, the same expression shared with Daeron, who momentarily froze as he realized what Elinora would speak. “Not when what?” Aemond finally spoke, trying to pull Elinora closer to him and make her look at him. Elinora cast her gaze upon the questioning face of the prince, her eyes blinking rapidly, then flew to the ground as a lie left her lips. “Nothing… I— I must go,” She muttered and reluctantly made the prince let go of his hold on her and hastily left his chambers. 

“What did she mean, Daeron?” The prince then questioned, imploring his brother, who could not look him in the eye. “What… What were you two doing here? With the door closed?” Daeron instead questioned, not wanting to face Aemond’s query, and instead pretended to question what he knew had transpired behind closed doors. “Answer my question, Daeron.” Aemond gritted, the pleasure he felt with Elinora just moments ago now diminished as his brother had to barge into his chambers and utter the truth that Aemond had preferred for Elinoa not to know. He had foolishly planned that he would resolve all of her dilemmas without her knowing. “Brother—“ 

“Answer the fucking question, Daeron. You have already revealed the truth that they hid from Elinora all her life; no point in keeping any more secrets.” 

Daeron looked upon his brother, heart thumping erratically in his chest. He had the urge to just run away, to follow Elinora and hide in her chambers for the time being, because he knew his brother would not be so brash and force himself into the sanctity of her private rooms. “When… when you questioned me if I felt anything for Elinora romantically… I had told you no,” 

Aemond frowned at what Daeron uttered, not liking where the conversation was leading him. “Had you lied to me? Do you wish to marry my Elinora?” Aemond suddenly questioned, jealousy quickly spiking within him. “No!” Daeron quickly defended. “I do not love Elinora in such a way because… for I— I am in love with another…” 

Aemond blinked at his brother, still not quite certain what Daeron wished to say. “Must I truly spell this out for you, brother? I thought you and your great mind could have already foreseen this?” Daeron sighed heavily. “You see, Edward wishes for Elinora and me to marry because she shall be close to home… where Edward could frequently visit her and me,” Aemond blinked rapidly, his cold hands that had been tensed now loosened as he realized what his brother had meant. “I am not in love with Elinora, Aemond… you can sleep peacefully with the fact that I could never be.” 

[romanteacism]

A Butterfly and a Dragon's Flight Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Summary: No matter how hard one shall resist, they are best to be reminded that their determination is moot when fate has its say. Word Count: 6,654 Warnings: Elinora and Aemond Missing Each Other, Forced Proximity, Jealous Aemond, Daeron Playing Matchmaker (again), NOT PROOFREAD

“Are you not going to question why he is staying with us?” Edward asked in apprehension as he and his sister were nearing the gates of Highgarden. Vhagar and Tessarion in their view as two dragons rested on a nearby hill, and two dragon princess were already in the walls of their home. “No,” Elinora answered plainly, once again twiddling with the ends of her hair as she tried hard not to let her nervousness and perhaps even dread shine through.

Edward looked upon her with great question and disbelief at how dismissive she was about the circumstances. “I… I had expected it, if I am being honest. Our house is paramount in the Reach, and we did spend a moon in the Red Keep… It’s our duty to welcome him into our home, brother.” Elinora explained, and Edward frowned at his sister’s words, a bothersome thought in his mind that he could not help but ask.

“Do you still love him?” Elinora froze at her brother’s words, surprised he would utter such a question, as he had been so avoidant and delicate with all that had unfolded the past few days. Elinora looked intently upon the green eyes of his brother, her lips ready to utter the word that would bring peace to Edward’s mind, but she could not say such a lie. “I do.” She admitted and quickly looked away from Edward and instead looked out of the window of the wheelhouse.

“But it does not matter. I know my place, and I know I am not allowed to love freely or in the way that I wish. So do not fret, brother, I know my bounds. I swear that nothing like what happened in the Capitol shall occur once more.” She said quietly and let out a quick, heavy breath before she hastily stood and left the now halted wheelhouse, leaving Edward, who sat there dumbfounded, trying to process his sister’s words.

The two of them walked precariously towards the great hall of their home, after Agnes had welcomed them and made them aware that that was where Prince Aemond and Prince Daeron waited for them. Edward saw as Agnes glanced warily towards Elinora, who had composed herself greatly and had shielded any sort of emotion on her face, as if their conversation in the wheelhouse and her confession uttered just moments before had not been made. Agnes could only sigh and leave for the kitchens, leaving the two children of House Tyrell face to face and welcoming the two children of House Targaryen.

Edward took in a deep breath and tried not to let his ill feelings show as they came face to face with the princes who stood before the great throne of his father. Instead of swords, the throne was carved out of the trunk of a great tree and rested in the middle of the great hall. Edward noticed how Elinora paused behind him, placing a good deal of distance between her and their guests. “Welcome to Highgarden, Prince Aemond.” Edward greeted and tried to ignore how the prince’s eye was placed on his sister, who stared off into the distance, and her hands were clasped in front of her.

“Thank you for the invitation, Lord Edward… however reluctant you were to give it,” Prince Aemond said, his tongue in his cheek, and Daeron could only sigh at his brother’s words. Edward was taken aback at the prince’s comment, his green eyes glancing towards Daeron, who avoided his gaze. All he could do was force a cordial smile on his lips and let out a wry laugh. “Well, we just assumed you wish to lodge with your mother’s house. But of course, a prince is welcomed in the walls of Highgarden.” Edward said the insincere words, and Aemond could only bite back his smile as it was amusing to witness Edward utter such excuses because his manners could not let him be standoffish when in the face of royalty. Just weeks before, he was certain Edward wished to take his other eye— yet now, all he could do was welcome him into their home and exchange fake pleasantries.

“Supper is to be served in a while… perhaps we should all freshen up,” Daeron suggested, and glanced towards Elinora, who seemed to disassociate from the entirety of the conversation. Her head was partly pointed to her right, where the afterglow of the setting sun was seeping through the stained glass windows of the great halls.

Edward was ready to agree, but Prince Aemond spoke once more. “I would actually prefer to have a tour of the keep… seeing that I shall stay here indefinitely— I’d rather not get lost and wander along the halls.”

Edward balled his fists, knowing full well what Prince Aemond’s intentions were, and he could only pray that their parents should return soon, as he’d rather not be the one responsible for entertaining and humoring the prince who was clearly after his sister. “Well, of course, my prince. If you would, we should start in the West wing where your chambers are placed.”

Edward stepped closer to the two princes, but two sets of eyes glanced towards Elinora, who made no move. “Elinora shall join us later for supper… but first, she must tend to her pet cat. Isn’t that right, sister?” Elinora finally turned her gaze towards the group but avoided the cold lilac eye of Prince Aemond. “Yes,” She said meekly and curtsied before them before hastily turning towards the other direction and heading towards the East wing to her chambers. Aemond gritted his teeth as he saw a pleased smile on Edward’s lips, and as he enthusiastically motioned for them to head in the opposite direction from Elinora.

Prince Aemond walked the halls of Highgarden and keenly observed the castle in which Elinora grew up. Highgarden was greater than he had thought. Though he had no particular care for architecture or the decor in a castle, he still could not help but realize how drab and dull his home was compared to the seat of the Tyrells.

Instead of the dark stone that made the Red Keep, Highgarden was built with varying colors of marble. The floors were made of a darker shade of marble that contrasted with the white, glossy walls of the keep, and each corner he turned, there was a flower engraved either on the walls or the various furnishings. Highgarden perfectly encapsulated how Elinora was… light and a breath of fresh air. He could not imagine her being raised anywhere else or belonging to any other house. Elinora was a flower, through and through. It is no wonder why butterflies always accompanied her.

“These are your chambers, my prince… I hope it shall suffice.” Edward stated, glancing towards Daeron, whose obvious discomfort wafted off from him. “And the chambers of Ser Gwayne and Daeron are just on either side of yours,” Edward added, and turned to the prince, who passed his gaze towards his chambers. Due to his sudden arrival, he was given one of the smaller chambers in the castle, but compared to the guests' chambers in the Red Keep, Edward believed it was still quite sizable and infinitely better decorated.

“My kin have truly made Highgarden their second home, haven’t they?” Aemond observed as Daeron and his uncle already had chambers assigned to them, even if it was not their house. None gave a reply to the prince, and as silence settled amongst the three men, Edward took it as a cue to continue on their tour.

“By your right is the chapel, there is a service every morning at first light, but sometimes, they would hold a second service in the afternoon just before sunset,” Edward explained, and Aemond already knew that the chapel would be a place he could be with Elinora. “And by the end of the hall is the library. However, the children occupy it during the mornings to tend to their lessons.”

“Where are the gardens?” Aemond suddenly questioned. “The gardens? I would think you would ask where the tiltyard is, my prince.” Edward said, his turn to have his tongue in his cheek. It was obvious the prince only wished to know where their gardens were because he guessed that is where Elinora would spend most of her time. “The gardens are near the great hall, brother,” Daeron answered.

“Though I do not believe you would enjoy it as most of the courtiers spend their time there and it could be quite crowded,” He added, and Edward led them in the direction of the tiltyard where the castle’s guards were tending to their night training.

“What of the East wing?” Aemond then questioned as he was being led to the dining hall. “It is a private wing, your highness,” Edward answered. “Why so? What secrets are kept there, my lord?” Aemond asked as his eye was captured by a portrait of Elinora when she was a babe. No one needed to tell him that it was a painting of the girl, as her jade eyes and dark auburn hair were enough for him to recognize that it was Elinora when she was a tot. As always, a butterfly was seen near her vicinity and she had a wildflower in her stubby little hand. Her once cherubic cheek still held the same blush but Aemond noticed the absence of the light freckles that scattered her face.

“No secrets, my prince. The East wing is simply where my parents’ chambers are located, along with some other rooms that are not particularly interesting.” Edward answered, unwilling to reveal that the East wing is where his sister’s chambers were located, along with the passage towards the pond where Elinora spent most of her time. Aemond did not utter another word as he had a suspicion that that was where Elinora’s chambers were placed as well.

When they arrived at the dining hall, it was filled with some courtiers who quickly stood and bowed as they were in the presence of the princes. By the end of the hall, Elinora sat in her place at their family’s table. Beside her was a chair with a stack of pillows that propped up Peony, who was already having her meal.

Aemond was heading towards the chair opposite Elinora, wanting to be somewhat near her, but Daeron was quick to take the chair he was eyeing. Instead of being seated before Elinora, he was forced into a seat opposite Peony. When Daeron felt the heated, icy stare of his brother, he looked at him in question before realizing what his hardened stare meant. “This has always been my seat,” He muttered as Edward sat at the head of the table as he substituted for his father.

When the hall began to eat their meal, the head table was filled with tense silence as their dishes were yet to be served. Their squires had waited until their arrival so their food would not grow cold. “So… what have the cooks prepared for us tonight?” Daeron questioned, his gaze placed on Elinora, who fussed over Peony, who had already been given her meal.

“Agnes said it was venison pie, beef pasties, and… and roasted duck,” Elinora answered, having trouble uttering the second dish. The duck they served did not, of course, come from Elinora’s pond. They had committed that grave mistake once when she was a child, and Elinora cried and locked herself in her chambers for a week until Lady Tyrell swore that cooks would never again use her ducks for their dishes. Instead, the castle had to source it from another place, but Elinora still felt glum every time the kitchens decided to cook the dish because it meant the deaths of the brothers and sisters of her beloved ducks. Aemond was quick to sense grief in Elinora. From the way she lowered her gaze, her hand instinctively went to Peony as if to calm herself down.

Edward, however, only hummed in satisfaction as he heard what the prepared dishes were. “I’m sorry, sister, I know that you have a fondness for ducks, but so does my appetite.” He tried to jest, and Elinora could only give a tight, wry smile.

“And for dessert?” Daeron then proceeded to ask, wanting to keep Elinora’s mind off the roasted duck that was to be served. “No, wait— I shall guess.” He then said before Elinora could reply. “You just had cacao cake with cherries the other day, or so says Edward’s letter, so it is not that… and summer is nearly ending and apples are in season… is it perhaps apple tarts?” Daeron asked, having the task of carrying the conversation at the tense table.

Elinora gave a small but true smile to her friend. “Close, it’s actually pear tarts as well as cream and berry cake.” She answered, and Daeron let out an exaggerated, exasperated noise as his guess was incorrect.

Aemond knew he should not feel as such, but he felt a surge of jealousy course through him as he witnessed how effortlessly Daeron had made Elinora, who was ever so silent, finally speak and engage in a conversation with him. The words of his grandfather, regarding their closeness and his belief that they would make a good pair, as he planned to betroth them, echoed in his mind. He hated that there was truth in his grandfather’s observation, and he hated it even more as he had witnessed it too.

When their meals were finally served, Elinora resisted as hard as she could to let her gaze fly towards Prince Aemond. She instead occupied herself with her meal and making certain Peony was eating well because she started to fret that her cat was not growing. It had been a month since she received her little pet, but it would seem she had barely grown from the little kitten she once was. Though parts of Peony grew, like her fluffy tail, which resembled the cattails that grew by the west side of the gardens, her legs were still quite short and stubby.

Elinora took a chalice of wine into her hands and glanced towards her left towards the court, who had their supper. She was quick to notice how countless eyes were pointed towards the newly arrived prince and, more obviously, how a group of ladies eyed Prince Aemond curiously. Whispering and giggling amongst themselves as they finally caught a glimpse of the most elusive prince of the realm. Elinora quickly removed her gaze as there was an ugly emotion blooming in her that she did not wish to entertain. She instead returned her hold on Peony to distract herself and aided her in completing her bowl of milk.

“Stop fussing over Peony, sister. Your meal is growing cold.” Edward stated, and Elinora reluctantly did as he said, making Aemond frown at how Edward seemed to boss around his sister, who only looked after the well-being of her little pet.

Elinora chewed on her lip as she pushed around her food, the smell of roasted duck reaching her nose, and her hold on her dinner fork tightened as Edward barbarically ripped off a leg to consume. Daeron noticed the whitened knuckles of the girl, but he could not resist the way his mouth salivated at the smell of the roasted duck. “I’m sorry, Eli, but it smells too good,” He said and hastily took a piece of the cooked bird.

He took the platter into his hands and offered it to his brother, and though Aemond would agree that the smell of the roasted duck was tempting, when Elinora finally cast her gaze upon him, waiting for his response, he quickly refused as he did not wish to place any more sadness in the girl.

Elinora lowered her eyes once more, trying to ignore the fond throb in her heart from the prince’s small gesture and instead focus upon upholding the promises she had made to her family and finally distance herself from the prince she had trouble resisting.

When a new day broke, Aemond found himself in the tiltyard of Highgarden. The first light of the sun had barely shone through the horizon, yet there were already a handful of men seeing to their daily training rituals. He was not used to it, as it would seem the men in the Red Keep were slacking on their training, as he often had the training yard to himself.

“Good morrow, my prince,” They would greet with a bow, and Aemond only gave a forced nod as he had to remind himself that he was no longer in his home and he must uphold at least a speck of decorum. When he reached the long table filled with weaponry, he caught sight of the lord with whom Elinora had danced the previous night.

Aemond had willed himself to ignore the lord’s presence, but he could not help but slyly look upon the lord to asses the man who dared dance with his Elinora. What was most obvious to Aemond was the stark difference between the two of them. Instead of his unique, silver locks, he had common, dark locks— darker than his plain nephew’s. And instead of his rare lilac eye, his eyes were the color of mud.

To Aemond, nothing about the lord was striking, to say the least. However, as he observed him further, even whilst he sparred with a straw dummy, he saw a kindness in the lord that Aemond had thought of as a weakness. The lord was too obliging, always greeting and offering a smile to those who passed him. Discarding his training more than once to aid the children who stumbled upon their swords and had pointless conversations with the knights present.

He was a weakling, Aemond thought. However, as he thought harder about the lord’s countenance, he recalled the words of Elinora. “Just as long as he is kind… and devoted, then I shall learn to love him.” It did not matter that Aemond viewed him as plain and weak; it was obvious that there was gentleness instilled within the lord that Aemond did not have, and that was the biggest threat to Aemond. Kindness and compassion did not come effortlessly for him— even if he wanted to, he would still somehow say and do the wrong thing that would always outshine his intentions.

On the other side of the castle, Elinora sat in the gardens with her brother, who tended to some business whilst their father was still in the Capitol. “Our farmers' wishes for lower rent on the land they tend,” Edward muttered absent-mindedly as he read through countless scrolls while Elinora steeped a pot of tea to their liking.

“How much less?” She questioned and delicately poured milk into her brother’s and her cup. “Five silver stags,” Edward answered, a tad surprised that his sister would reply to him, who was merely thinking out loud. “Would you grant it?” Elinora questioned and glanced around the gardens as her mind was stubborn and would not forgo the thought of a silver prince.

“I do not know… it would be quite a loss,” Edward replied with a sigh and raised his cup of tea to his lips. He turned to his sister, deep in thought, and in a rare occurrence, Elinora was asked about her opinion on a matter that she had always been warned she had no business in. “What do you think I should do?”

Elinora’s brows shot up, but her surprise at Edward’s question was not given much time to be thought off as her answer quickly left her lips. “I think you should grant it. They work tirelessly in the fields that they do not own, to tend and sell crops, but only a small percentage of the crops and the payment would be theirs. We owe them at least a fair tenancy fee.”

Edward thought about his sister’s words, surprised at how Elinora seemingly had thought of the matter already. However, there was skepticism in the young lord as he believed that his sister’s answer was heavily influenced by her good and kind nature, that she was rather led by her emotions and empathy rather than the logic that was needed for such matters.

“I shall think about it,” Edward then said after a silence had settled between them. Elinora gave a nod, hopeful that her brother would actually listen to her opinion, which was rarely asked for, but she believed that her words would be neglected. “Our coffers are full enough, brother. I’m certain our house could spare a few silver stags,”

Before Edward could reply, two silver princes then came, and his words died on his lips as he saw that Elinora was quick to turn her attention towards Prince Aemond, but as quickly as her attention was caught, she was quick to force herself to turn away.

“Good morrow, Eli, Edward,” Daeron greeted, and Elinora gave a small smile and nod, turning towards their squire for him to bring a new pot of tea as well as pastries for the newly arrived princes.

“So, what are our plans today?” Daeron questioned as he once again had the role of relieving the silence between the parties. “Business… meetings… answering a pool of scrolls,” Edward responded, tiredness already heavy in his voice. “Aye, the perils of the firstborn… when are Lord and Lady Tyrell to return again? If I recall correctly, they were only set to extend their stay for a week or so.”

Aemond watched as Elinora once again delicately made the tea to their liking. He always thought it entertaining to watch her. She was precise in the science of making tea; she was focused, as a shallow line formed between her brows as she measured the amount of sugar and milk to be placed in each cup.

“Longer than expected, apparently. They have written to me that their stay had turned indefinite and had given me the pleasure to tend to our seat for the mean time,” Edward said, scrunching up a scroll between his hands and threw it over his shoulder as it was another proposal for Elinora from a lord he did not care to know. “Do not litter, brother,” Elinora said softly and distributed the cups of tea she had made, Prince Aemond meeting her halfway, and she grew rigid as their fingers brushed once more.

“They have as well written to remind you not to neglect your prayers, sister, apparently we are in great need of it,” Edward muttered, and Elinora gave a small nod, not quite certain what he meant.

“What of you, Eli? Any plans today?” Daeron then questioned as Elinora was midway through sipping her tea. “Not much. I am to read to the babes again this afternoon, what of you?”

“I thought I would take brother hunting, your ground’s keeper said there is an abundance of pheasants roaming the grounds,” Daeron explained and turned to his brother. “I know you prefer the sword, brother, but you’re in the Reach now, we prefer bows and arrows.” Daeron grinned, and Aemond resisted rolling his eye as he truly had no choice but to join his brother.

“Though I must ask you to be careful. The ducks are starting to migrate south, best try not to mistake them.” Elinora requested, expecting Daeron to reply, but the whole table was rather surprised when Prince Aemond finally spoke. “We would not dare,” was all he said, but it still coiled something within Elinora.

Edward gritted his jaw and glanced towards his sister as color once again bloomed on her cheeks, but she lowered her head to hide the evidence of her still remaining attraction for the prince. “Come, Elinora, I’ll escort you to the chapel.” Edward suddenly announced as he stood, catching his sister, who was still in the midst of breaking her fast, by surprise. “Bu—“

“Come now, you wouldn't want Septon Eustace waiting, would you?” Edward questioned with a raised brow and a stern expression, having to act as his sister’s keeper whilst their parents were still away. Aemond’s hold on his cup, which was carefully made by Elinora, tightened as she was once again lorded over by her lord brother, and all she could do was give a small nod and do as she was told.

When the children of House Tyrell left the gardens, Aemond turned to his brother. “Is he always like that?” He asked bitterly, and it took Daeron a brief moment to finally understand what his brother meant. “Unfortunately, yes. Though I must admit, he is more stern now, seeing you are here.” He explained, but it did not lessen the scowl on his brother’s face.

“You have to understand, brother, Elinora is… is practically a puppet. Controlled by those around her. Only does as she is told. It is all she has known. Which is why when we were in the capital and she began to finally show a speck of rebellion and finally decided something for herself, I was so relieved and happy. She was beginning to cut those strings…she was finally living— all because of you,”

Aemond was stunned at Daeron’s words. Sometimes he was uncertain of what he said. He thought mayhap his brother was simply pouring honey in his ear, but a part of Aemond always wanted to believe what Daeron said regarding Elinora was always true— it was the little speck of hope he had to stay and keep yearning for a girl who seemed to be forbidden to be his.

“Come now, we must hunt.” Daeron then said as he ate his last piece of custard tart. Almond stayed silent, his eye already uttering what he wished to say. “Did you honestly think I would invite you to a hunt without purpose? The pheasants are inhabiting the East wing of this keep… near the duck pond… where Eli will be after her hour of prayer.” Daeron grinned at the plan he orchestrated.

“Though I do advise you to be careful. Edward and I did accidentally shoot one of Elinora’s ducks…” Daeron confessed. “How did she take it?” Aemond could not help but question. “She doesn’t know we killed Florian the third… nor how great he tasted in a stew,” Daeron said sheepishly, and Aemond bit on his lip as he could imagine Elinora straying to the pond and looking for one of her beloved ducks.

As Elinora stayed in the chapel and tended to her prayers, there was a pull in her to feed the ducks earlier than she was supposed to. As she kneeled on the frontmost pew in the room, she peeked through her lashes to see that all those who were present, the Septas, Septon Eustace, and other court women, were all focused in prayer, yet she had the gnawing want to leave. She felt a sense of guilt residing in her for her thoughts, and she tried to remind herself of her mother’s imploring words that she must devoutly tend to her prayers and let the gods hear her pleas and thanks. However, as the sun was finally nearing its peak, and when she had finally spent an hour in the chapel, she hastily left and strayed towards the pond.

Elinora must admit that she felt a surge of excitement course through her as she forgo her second hour of prayer— great excitement that muddled and silenced her guilt. When she reached the pond, she was quick to notice the presence of two silver princes who were engrossed with their bows as they tried to hunt pheasants.

Elinora crowded away from the two, keeping her mind her vow to her brother that she would place clear boundaries from the prince and so, she went as quietly to a secluded part of the pond that hid her from the view of the princes but from where she stood, there was enough open space for her to sometimes glance at the One Eyed Prince. She began to sprinkle the crumbs of stale bread and seed into the water, her ducks swimming to her merrily and greeting her with their quacks.

When Aemond heard the distinct quacks of the water birds, along with a few butterflies fluttering around him, he knew Elinora was near. He quickly turned to his brother, whose gaze was pointed in the heavens, and tried to spot a flock of pheasants. When Daeron did not react or show recognition of what Aemond had realized, the prince moved to go to Elinora, but Daeron quickly caught hold of his collar, preventing him from doing so. “Do not be so eager, brother. Desperation does not suit you.” Daeron muttered as he took an arrow from his quiver. Aemond frowned severely at his brother’s words, his gaze turning towards the pond, but he could not see Elinora clearly.

“Wait for a moment or two… I shall accidentally shoot a stray arrow towards the pond and send you to retrieve it— then you can go and be with Eli,” Daeron stated and aimed his arrow into the sky. “But what if you hit her?”

“Oh, ye of little faith. I am completely capable of shooting an arrow, brother. If I weren’t, I would not have shot seven pheasants, while you have none. Besides, do you honestly believe I would willingly harm Elinora? Come now,” Daeron smiled and let go of his arrow that shot a pheasant.

As Elinora was minding her business and tending her ducks, she let out a startled gasp as an arrow suddenly flew a few spaces near her head and landed on a trunk of a tree. “Are you well?” The cold and silky voice of the prince suddenly called out, finding the hiding place of Elinora, whose eyes were still wide and lips agape at the sudden stray arrow.

“I… yes,” She answered and dusted her dress as she stood, gaze flying towards the stray arrow. “Daeron lost control as he… he was trying to show me a trick,” Aemond explained, a fib on his lips that he and his brother concocted. “Oh… the one where he closes his eyes and spins around?” Elinora could not help but ask, as she too had been convinced to watch Daeron do the failed trick.

“Yes,” Aemond said, a bit relieved that his lie was not technically a lie and that Elinora was finally speaking with him. Elinora chewed on her cheeks as she and Prince Aemond stood there awkwardly in silence, as they had once again grown unaccustomed to one another after all that had happened in the Capitol. Aemond was ready to relent, to give up in trying to speak to Elinora that day, but his mind was stubborn and had forced him to speak of anything.

“You’re feeding the ducks,” He stated the obvious, and Elinora hesitantly gave a nod. “I… I am,” She answered, biting back her tongue to extend an invitation. However, as the prince stepped closer to her, her legs failed her in stepping back and keeping distance from the prince. “Can I join?” Aemond asked delicately, bracing himself for rejection and denial, as he often had when he was young. But Elinora only gave a wry smile and nod, “If you wish,” She whispered and sent a quick prayer to the gods that her brother would not know of her lapse in judgment that noon.

As they returned to their old customs of feeding the ducks, there was a silence that befell them, and though both had always thrived in silence, both of them wished to be absolved of it. “Do you wish to know their names?” Elinora then asked, and Aemond could only nod as he looked upon her who crouched a few arm's length away from him.

“That’s Dahlia… the one who has darker feathers. Then Daisy, when she was just a duckling, had really almost white feathers and a yellow beak that reminded me of a daisy… and that’s her brother, Cedar, because one time he flew into one of the branches of a Cedar tree. And th—“

Aemond bit on his tongue to prevent a smile from spreading on his lips as Elinora introduced him to all of her ducks, whom she had named after flowers and greenery. “And that’s Florian the fourth,” She finally ended, all the ducks now accounted for and introduced to the prince. “What happened to the first three?” Aemond could not help but ask.

“Florian the first and the second died of old age, and Florian the third… brother and Daeron told me he flew south for the winter and simply never returned but I know they accidentally shot him whilst hunting,” Elinora said, a tone of sadness in her voice as she twiddled with the ends of her hair. “I also know they made him into a stew,” She added, and Aemond bit his lip as he remembered how Daeron was so certain that Elinora knew naught of their transgressions.

“I buried his bones by that tree,” Elinora then muttered, but she suddenly regretted it because the prince might think her ridiculous for burying the bones of a duck that they had used in a stew. But as Elinora turned to meet the lilac gaze of Prince Aemond, there was no ridicule nor peculiarity in them; he only gave an understanding nod as he turned towards an Elm tree that had Florian the Third’s bones buried near its roots.

“Ho— How are the ducks in the Capitol?” Elinora could not help but question. She chewed on her cheeks as it seemed she could not hold her tongue and keep herself away from the prince. “Well… I fed them before I left. And I entrusted their feeding to the twins when I came here, though I feel as if they miss you,” Aemond responded, hoping that not another soul would hear his words that were only for Elinora. Sometimes he felt pathetic when he spoke as such. He was unaccustomed to speaking so delicately and kindly that he was certain all would grow confused if they had witnessed him in such a state.

When silence once again settled between them, Aemond was ready to utter another piece of small talk, but the toll of the bells suddenly sounded out. “I must go. I am to read to the children before they rest for the afternoon… good day, your highness.” Elinora excused herself and curtsied before the prince before he could utter another word.

As Elinora hurried through the halls of her home, she tried to be rid of the blush on her cheeks and the loud thumping in her chest. When she reached the courtyard, she took in deep breaths to calm herself as she must not let the babes feel her excitement since her task was to lull them to sleep. As she took her seat before the babes, she thought of a story to tell, and she settled on one of her favorites when she was younger. “Once upon a time, in a valley cradled by silver mountains, there lived the Sapphire Prince…” Unbeknownst to her, a certain sapphire-eyed prince watched her read to the babes and savored each word she uttered.

“How long is your brother staying?” Edward questioned as he and Daeron decided to end their night with a bottle of wine in the rose parlor of the keep. “I do not know. He would not say.” Daeron answered as he turned to Edward, who was still occupied with scrolls.

“What is so important that you are still buried with letters at this hour?” Daeron questioned and sat across his friend, who had a consistent line between his brows. “The farmers want lower rent, the city walls need tending to, I am overseeing the tourney for Lord Redwyne’s name day, and…” Edward hesitated, and Daeron raised his brow as he refilled their chalices with wine. “And what?”

“Father wrote to me saying that Princess Rhaenyra wishes for Elinora and Jacaerys to meet,” He admitted, and Daeron stilled in his place. “That is the true reason why my parents had not returned… they are smoothing over the plans on how to proceed.”

“Proceed with what? The betrothal is null as Jacaerys’ name was shaded off… Elinora is free of a betrothal.” Daeron stated, Edward’s furrowed brow now spreading to him. “Not truly… they plan to marry my sister to another…” Edward trailed, his eyes warily going to Daeron, hoping he would not have to utter the truth of the lord’s hand plan. “Who?” Edward sighed heavily as his fear that Daeron had not been privy to the truth had come to life.

“Ser Gwayne had not told you, has he?” Edward said solemnly and watched as Daeron’s purple eyes widened in shock. “ME?! They wish to marry Elinora to me?!” He asked incredulously. “They do,” Edward confirmed as Daeron downed his cup as an attempt to calm himself down. “Wha— Why!?” He asked, and Edward could only shrug as it eluded him as to why they had chosen Daeron.

“I… I love Eli, I do… but I do not love her in such a way— I love her, but I am not capable of being in love with her.” Daeron breathed out as he poured more wine into his chalice. “My family must swear our allegiance to yours… and since Elinora’s first betrothal was to a prince, father refuses for her to be married to a mere lord,” Edward explained. “But there’s another prince!”

“Prince Aegon is already married, Daeron. You’re not suggesting that my sister be part of his harem,” Edward stated, and Daeron looked at him curiously as he was clearly not pertaining to his eldest brother. When Edward finally understood what his friend meant, a scowl appeared on the young lord’s face. “No.”

“Do not be stubborn, Edward. Would you truly wish marriage upon Elinora and me, who hold no romantic feelings for one another when there is already love between her and my brother?” Edward rolled his eyes. “He holds no love for her. Lust, yes, but do not be a fool to mistake that for love.” Edward gritted out.

“Edward, he came here for her! Traveled on Dragonback, spontaneously. He did not ask for our mother’s blessing or permission—he forwent his duties for her! He hid in my chambers for a week, trying to convince me he loves her—“

“And you believed him?” Edward spat in disbelief. “Edward, if you truly believe that my brother only lusts over Elinora, do you think he would even come here? He had countless opportunities to sully her whilst in the Capitol, but he had done no such thing. And if you are too blind and stubborn to accept or see that, then you must accept the fact that you shall be the reason why Elinora and I shall be trapped in a marriage that neither of us wish for.”

At those words, Edward’s scowl lessened, and the haze of anger he was muddled in began to clear. “We need your endorsement, Edward. If you take the case that Elinora should be with Aemond instead, your parents would heed your words, and my grandsire would have no choice but to relent lest he wants to lose your house’s support.”

Edward let out a grievous breath. “For most of Elinora’s life, you had prevented her from things that come naturally to a lady… had shielded her from experiences that she must have known herself… do not prevent her from marrying the man she loves, Edward. At least do her that kindness.” Daeron pleaded, looking intently into Edward’s green eyes that were clearly torn and confused. “For once in your life, listen to what she wants. Let her live, Edward.”

Tag List: @sapphirevhagar @dahlias-and-marigolds @shygardengalaxy-blog @m-riaa @summerposie @emerald-jade1 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sunmoon-01 @foxyprincessworld

[romanteacism]

not sure how long finals last (my a level/ gcse exams went on for months!), but I just wanted to send a message and say I hope they're going well/ went well!!

I know they can be super stressful and the worst thing when you're going through them at the time!

I’m actually trying to finish my undergrad degree and it’s thesis season and I’m taking up as much units as I can, hence the inactivity, but hopefully i could manage to update this blog from time to time 🩷🤞

and thank you so much again for being so understanding and supportive!! 🫶🏻

[romanteacism]

Take your time, I know that it takes bit of inspiration to write 📝 👍

Thank u so much for being understanding u guys!! 🤧 I wasn’t even planning to update for a while but I suddenly had the urge to write and completed a chapter for the Sworn to You series in an hour!!

[romanteacism]

not me listening to “party 4 you” and imagining what the ‘sworn to you’ reunion could look like…

In an alternative universe, the princess and knight Aemond are Daisy and Jay— IMAGINE HIM WAITING FOR HER ALL THOSE YEARS AND YEARN FROM AFAR?!? That is something knight Aemond would totally do

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Broken

Synopsis: What is one more broken promise and two more broken hearts? Warnings: Angst. PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: They're gonna be fine-- keep the faith

“I thought she’d be prettier,” Aemond let out a grievous breath, his hands balled tightly in a fist as his eye rolled at the words his betrothed whispered to him when you entered the great hall with your family. His house’s place was tucked by the farthest corner of the halls, but even if a crowd of attendees hid him away from your view, his lone eye would still succumb to seeking you out. After two years, he felt his heart finally announce its presence again, even if he only caught a small glimpse of you. He felt his knees weaken and his hands grow colder as he saw the clear melancholia in you, even if a pretty smile was on your lips. He always knew what you hid beneath the surface. How could he not?

“It is treason to say such a thing about the princess… they could take your tongue for your words—or even place you in the black cells for a month,” Aemond muttered as your father, the king, signaled for his guests to take their seats. He placed his gaze on the table, resisting looking at you because he was uncertain what he would do if he stared at your face much longer. However, Lady Cassandra looked upon you in curiosity. “Well, it’s the truth,” She whispered. “Everyone in the kingdom speaks of her as if she is the most beautiful princess there ever was… but if you ask me, she looks quite plain.” 

Aemond tried to rein in his anger, but he could not do so because even after all these years, he could not stomach anyone speaking badly about you. “Hold your tongue,” He seethed quietly, fire behind his lilac eye, and Lady Cassandra looked quite alarmed at the tone of his voice and the severe expression on his face. “My darling, no need to be so serious… none could hear me. Though I must say, I am touched that you are so concerned about your beloved betrothed,” Lady Cassandra grinned as she took Aemond’s disposition as concern rather than annoyance. Aemond felt his eye twitch at Lady Cassandra’s words. Aemond chewed on his cheek as your father began to speak; everyone in the hall turned upon their king except him. 

True to your eldest brother’s words, he did sit before you and hid the view of the guests, but most importantly, Aemond. You fiddled with your fingers in anxiousness and prayed that the feast would pass quickly. “Do not fret, sister; you could retire after the second course,” The prince whispered beside you, and you could only give a small smile of gratitude. However, that smile was quick to wilt as you realized that before the feast could actually commence, those who sought your father’s blessing for their marriage were to approach the long table. As your brother saw the clear alarm in your eyes, he too realized what was to happen next. “I… I shall be fine, brother.” You managed to say, but the validity of your words was debatable.

You tried to keep your mind preoccupied as the lords and ladies who asked for your father’s blessing for marriage began to queue before the long table. Your eldest brother began to speak to you and your brother, offering any anecdote just so you would not let your mind wander towards your past knight, who stood with his betrothed at the end of the line. When he was drawing closer, your fingers nervously traced the embroidery of your dress, bracing yourself as you would once again be faced with the love you had lost. 

Luckily, your cousin Eliza suddenly appeared, in her arms was her babe, and she quickly excused you from the long table as she had been privy to the truth. “Come, cousin, my son has been desperate to spend time with his aunt,” Eliza smiled softly as her daughter coed in her arms, ushering you to stand and offering an escape from facing Aemond. 

Aemond, who stood at the end of the line, felt his breath fall short as he saw you stand, your gaze planted on the babe in Lady Eliza’s arms. This was the closest he had been to you for two years. He was finally ready to face you, to look into your enchanting eyes once more, but his chances were gone as you had left, just as he did. 

“Thank you,” You said quietly as you took Eliza’s son into your arms, the tot quickly settling into your hold. You need not utter why you gave thanks, as Eliza quickly understood and took your hand and gave it a loving squeeze. 

“Oh, by the way, cousin, I wish for you to meet Lord Andrew. He’s my dear husband’s cousin,” Eliza smiled, and as the words left her lips, the young lord stood. His stature towered over those who sat at the long table and over you as well. Eliza knowingly smiled as she caught the way your eyes slightly widened when you saw her husband’s cousin. With his tall frame, warm brown eyes, and sand blonde locks, he looked exactly like the man you had envisioned and told her you would marry when you were younger. Eliza would like to believe it was fate. Though she had once wished it was Aemond you would end up with, it would seem that was just a fantasy, as he was now lined up before your father to ask for his blessing with his betrothed on his arm. 

“A pleasure to finally meet you, princess.” Lord Andrew smiled and took your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. For the first time in two years, you feel the familiar heat on your cheeks and the slight flutter in your heart as your eyes meet those of warm brown eyes. 

Aemond, who was standing before your father, saw the scene, eye wide and confused. His mind was running with questions that no one could answer. For the past moons, he and the whole of the kingdom believed that their beloved princess was married. But you were still here, in your father’s house. No prince nor lord escorted you through the castle walls, nor did anyone see you with another man who was not related to you. Could it be true that your hand was not taken by another? That you had kept your promise to him that you would never take another that was not him? Aemond could not stew in his thoughts any longer as the king was now before him, and he and his betrothed were asking for his blessing, but all he wanted to do was run to you and leave all his misguided actions behind.

As the feast went on, Aemond could not help as his eye kept glancing in the direction of the princess. She forwent her proper place by the head table and instead occupied the seat next to a lord in a place that seems to be connected to Lady Eliza’s husband’s house. Aemond watched steely-eyed as the lord leaned forward and invaded the princess’s space, a smirk on his lips. Aemond had thought you would back away, put further space between you and the lord as you often did, but you only mirrored his smile, and he dared say he saw you mimic the lord’s movements and lean further as you two engaged in a conversation that was meant for you two alone. 

Aemond gripped his chalice tightly. Aemond had always resisted jealousy before, even if he often failed. But now? All he wanted was to stew in his jealousy. Nurse the pit in his heart as you laughed with a lord. And curse the day that he decided to leave you. However, Aemond could do no such thing, as all he felt was his own doing. 

You resisted turning towards the direction of your past knight. He was on the other side of the room, yet you could still feel the familiar burn of his lilac, icy stare. Questions infiltrated your mind— the same questions you had years before. Why did he leave? What have you done wrong? Why had he not returned your letters? All of these questions were never given an answer, and you would think that after years of silence, you would have given up and decided to move on. But who could truly move on from their first love? So instead of giving in to your wants to march over to the other side of the hall and demand Aemond’s answers, you preoccupied yourself with Lord Andrew. If Aemond had clearly moved on, so should I. You thought. You breathed in deeply and decided that it was truly better to forget about him because if you dwelled further, the hurt in your chest might never leave, and it only doubled each time as you thought of him and his soon-to-be lady wife. 

“Might be too forward of me to ask if we could break fast tomorrow, princess?” Lord Andrew questioned sheepishly, his eyes going downwards in shyness, and you bit your tongue. “But we had not even finished our supper, my lord,” You say, eyes glancing towards the plates before you two that were barely touched as you and the lord had been too preoccupied with speaking and getting to know one another. 

“Oh— I… apologies, princess, I did—“ You bit your lip to prevent the amused smile that wanted to come forth as the lord began to ramble on his apologies for being too forward, and his fear of offending and scaring you off was evident in his eyes. You licked your lips and took hold on his hand that reasted atop teh table as a signal for him to cease fretting and voiced out that you would very much like to break your fast with him on the morrow but what you liked most that for the first time in two years, you found someone who could bring your thoughts away from Aemond. 

When Aemond witnessed that you bestowed your touch upon another and how his stare could not persuade you to look upon him, he quickly stood and excused himself from the house’s table and left. Desperately wanting to erase the scene he had witnessed in his mind and expel the rage and hurt he had felt because he had to come to the truth of his actions— that his rash and ill-thought-out decision had led him to lose the love of his life. 

When morning approached, you woke earlier than you had thought as the incessant barking of your pets broke your slumber. You sat up on your feathered bed and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, all the while Theo used his mouth to pull at the sleeve of your nightgown and urged you to stand. When you did, you looked upon Sapphira in question, and the two of your eldest cats only nudged their furry faces upon your leg, and you stumbled upon them as you tried to dress in your robe. You stayed silent as your cats began to push and lead you outside your chambers. The castle was still fast asleep, and the sun barely broke through the horizon.

Through your tired stupor, you did not question the odd behavior of your beloved pets as you walked barefoot through your home and were led to the gardens. When Theodore and Shapphira’s whinnings finally ceased, you sighed and scooped them up in your arms, “Why must you wake me and lead me to gardens for nothing, my loves?” You asked softly as they rested calmly in your arms Ypu turned to return from whence yyou came from but your steps quickly ceased and you froze in your spot as you were greeted by Aemond who was only dressed in his night clothes and from the sweat on his face, you would wager he came from the tiltyard. He had a triad of cats in his arms, the kittens belonging to the felines in your arms that you quickly placed back on the ground as you feared that at any moment you might just run away, as you had never thought you should be confronted by him. 

“They stumbled into the tiltyard… I supposed they were yours because of their jeweled collars.” Those were the first words that Aemond had spoken to you. Even he himself was surprised that he did not stumble or stutter— he was certain that the words on his lips would be caught if he dared to speak to you now. You nodded meekly, watching as Theodore and Sapphira looked upon the man who had been your constant companion before. 

When Aemond looked upon the pets that he once helped raise, he felt another pit in his stomach. It was odd; he was never particularly fond of your cats, but deep inside, he still cared for them because he knew how much you adored them. Back in his home, Aemond had the habit of feeding the stray cats he saw on the grounds, a small voice in his head urging him to do such actions because he knew you’d approve of it. To this day, in House Targaryen, there were maids and squires instructed to feed any wandering or stray cat they found. 

You dared not look at Aemond, your eyes firmly planted on the ground, and as you saw him dip down and return the kittens to their parents, you took that as your turn to leave. “Good day, lord Aemond,” Was all you managed to say, and you tried to follow your cats, who returned inside the castle walls. When Aemond heard his name from your lips, he felt his knees weaken and his heart burn at the tone of dismissal in your voice.

He watched you try to hastily return inside the castle walls and perhaps hide from him once more, but he could not let it be so. He was brash as he took hold of your arm and pulled you closer to him. “Please,” Was all he could say, his being too consumed with the thought of you near, that you were once again in his grasp and that he was finally breathing in your scent and hearing your voice once more. 

“I command you to let go of me,” You ordered, voice harsh as you knew that each second spent near Aemond would undo all the stitches that his leaving had caused. You only felt him hold onto you tighter, trying to pull you closer. “I’m sorry, my heart,” You hear him whisper. He was standing behind you, his hold still upon your arm and his face thrading near your head, his breath fanning your hair. You feel the threat of tears quick to come. You shut your eyes tightly and shook your head. “Do… do not call me that— how dare you call me that?!” 

You seethed and forcefully removed his hold upon you so you could meet his eye. “You have no right to call me your heart after you had left mine broken for years!” You practically screamed, the hurt in you bubbling into rage. You watched as Ameond tried to speak— to try and say his peace but you could not let him do so— the questions you had that you desperately wnated the answers for could finally be known but you could not let it be so because you knew that whatever reason he offered, your heart would be too soft and understand him. Now, you felt as if you’d rather hate him and forgo closure rather than hear his side and mourn him for the rest of your life. 

“You had left—you left me after… after everything, and not only did you not give me a reason, you had as well ignored me! I do not wish for your apologies nor your explanations— I do not even wish to see you! But here you are, in my home once more… asking for my father’s blessing so you could marry another.” Aemond stood stiffly, he knew you were close to tears and all he wanted to do was take you into his arms and let you cry onto him once more, but he knew that the tears you wished to shed were not of sadness— it was of anger; anger towards him. 

“You have it— you have the king’s blessing.” You said. “And would you please do me this kindness?” You asked, Aemond’s lowered gaze finally placed itself upon yours once more. “Leave. You have gotten what you came for— you are free to do as you wish, but I beg of you, leave.” Aemond fisted his hands at your request, at the pleading tone in your voice. Is this truly what you wish? For him gone? Or were you only spurred by your anger? “I… I can’t, not again,” 

You scoffed at Aemond’s reply. “You had no trouble doing it the first time… what is the difference now?” You asked bitterly. You watched as the solemn sadness in Aemond’s eye faded, and in turn, fire took its place. “Do you honestly believe I wished to do that? Do you truly think I wanted to leave you?” 

You laughed humorlessly. “Aemond, not only did you leave, but you left me without a word! You could have explained your situation to me— you could have sent a letter— anything! And I would have understood! Yet you did not, I had to find out what had happened to you through whispers and gossip! So yes, I do believe you wished to leave— and you were only a coward to leave without telling me why.” 

“Do you wish to know why?” Aemond asked, stepping closer to you. “No.” You answered plainly. “I am done questioning why— I have thought of any possible reason as to why you had done what you did. I’ve had enough… So no, I do not wish to know why, Aemond.” You swallowed thickly as you met his eye, you stared into the lilac orb that you had deemed the most beautiful gaze you’ve ever held years before, and quietly mourned the fact that this may be the last time you looked upon them. 

You moved to walk away, to finally leave all of this be, but four words from Aemond made you freeze. “I only love you,” He said, staring upon your departing frame that ceased as the words left his lips. He took that as an opportunity to really tell you the words he wished to have said years before. “You are right, I was a coward— I have broken your heart and trust… but do not think for one moment that I have ceased loving you, my heart. I have promised you— laid out my oath that you shall be the only one that I will love and have 'til the end of my days… I still intend to keep my oath,” 

You breathed out a heavy breath, turning to him once more. His eye filled with hope by that small action, you dared to step closer and cup his cheek and stroke his scar with your thumb as you had often done before. That only put forth further hope in him, but it was quick to die at the words that left your lips. “You have already broken one of your oaths, Aemond. What is one more?” It placed further dread in your heart as you studied his eye filled with hurt, and at any moment it looked like a tear might fall from the lilac orb, but you could not help but say the following words that engraved in Aemond’s mind that he had truly lost you. “Marry Lady Cassandra, Aemond. You may not have kept your promises to me, but at least keep the word you’ve given her.” 

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[romanteacism]

Please come back I miss you🥺😭

OMG HUHUHU I MISS U GUYS TOO BUT I HAVE THESIS AND SCHOOL WORKS!! 🤧

[romanteacism]

Please don't ask me about the update on Sworn to You... it's just the words are not coming to me rn IM SORRY! I swear I'm trying 🥺

[romanteacism]

A Butterfly and a Dragon's Flight Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Summary: It would be best to remember that Prince Aemond shall never be denied. Word Count: 4,551 Warnings: Elinora and Aemond Missing Each Other, Forced Proximity, Jealous Aemond, NOT PROOFREAD

“Sister, make haste! You know how I hate being tardy,” Edward sighed as he knocked upon his sister’s door for the fifth time in that hour. It was high noon, and they were set to attend a ball thrown by House Florent at sundown. The journey alone takes four hours, and if Elinora did not leave her chambers in the next few moments, Edward might have to face the dire truth that for the first time in his life, he would be late. 

Elinora sighed heavily and placed a lingering kiss upon Peony’s head before opening her chamber door, only to reveal her brother, who paced impatiently by the hall. “Apologies, brother, I was quite indecisive on how to style my hair.” Elinora fibbed. There was a looming sense of unease that hung over head the entire morning that she could not account for— as if a voice within her urged her to not attend the ball, but she could not voice out her concerns to her brother as she did not wish to disappoint Edward seeing that he had been excited to attend House Florent’s yearly ball. 

Edward looked upon his sister, whose maid had styled her hair differently, as it was a special occasion. Instead of the usual single braid and loose hair that cascaded behind Elinora’s back, it was turned into a delicate and intricate style as half of her dark auburn hair was woven into a braided knot. And instead of the usual flowers in her hair, it was replaced by pearls that went nicely with her cream, flowing gown, whose neckline was rather lower than her other gowns, and Elinora could obviously be seen fidgeting with the material as she tried to pull it higher in an attempt at further modesty. 

Edward felt rather concerned about his sister’s discomfort with the new fashion she wore, and if it were any other case, he would encourage her to change to something she was more comfortable and lax with, but they were already late and Edward could do was smile softly at his sister and offer her his compliments. “You look enchanting, Elinora. I’m certain you shall be the prettiest girl there.” Edward said, and Elinora could only give a wry smile and link her arms with her brother so they could finally be on their way. 

“I feel bad leaving Peony,” Elinora said quietly as they boarded the wheelhouse, and it was quick to leave the gates of Highgarden the moment the squire shut the door. “It’s just for a night, sister. We’ll be back by tomorrow, and I’m well certain that Agnes would care for your little kitten.” Edward reasoned as he once again spotted a hint of melancholy behind Elinora’s light jade eyes— melancholia that they had tried hard to erase. 

When they arrived at Brightwater Keep, the first to greet the children of House Tyrell besides their hosts were Prince Daeron and Ser Gwayne. “You two were almost tardy,” Ser Gwayne smirked and helped Elinora to her chair, teasing Edward, whose adherence to punctuality was known by all. “It was my fault,” Elinora said softly, knowing her brother would go on into a long tangent of over-explaining the reason why they were almost late.

Elinora then took a chalice of wine in her hand as she turned to Daeron, who was uncharacteristically quiet, his violet eyes constantly flying towards the entrance of the hall. “Are you well, Daeron? Is there someone you are waiting for?” Elinora questioned, toying with the embossed designs of her chalice as she too looked upon the hall’s entrance in curiosity. “What? I— of course not! Who— who shall I be waiting for?” Daeron stuttered, unable to look Elinora in the eye as the plan made with his brother was about to commence. Elinora knitted her brows in confusion upon Daeron’s reply. She had never heard him stutter before. She leaned closer to her friend, looking at him in worry. She was once again ready to utter her concern for his well-being, but as the trumpets sounded out and the great hall that was once filled with chatter turned silent, she turned away from Daeron’s direction and turned to the doors of the great hall once more. 

Aemond slowly entered the great hall of House Florent with one sole purpose in his being: to see Elinora once more. He was quick to spot her. How could he not? He may still have one eye, but the only thing he could see was Elinora. Aemond tried not to seem phased as he finally saw her again. She looked as beautiful as the day he had lost her. There, by his right, she stood in shock. Her plush pink lips slightly parted, her dark brows in a furrow, and her enchanting jade eyes filled with shock. Aemond wanted badly to go to her, to reach for her hand and steal her away from the hall filled with guests, just to have a spare, stolen moment with her. But Aemond reigned in his wishes and continued to walk onwards towards the head table. Reluctantly turning away from the sole reason why he came to Reach. 

As the hall settled from the arrival of the prince, Edward’s hardened gaze turned to Daeron and Ser Gwayne. “What the fuck is he doing here?” He could not help but seethe, unable to control himself as he cursed before his sister. Edward observed the expressions of the two. Ser Gwayne looked as confused as Elinora was, but Daeron was filled with anxiety and avoided his gaze. “Daeron, explain yourself.” Edward gritted and leaned closer to the youngest prince of the realm, the long table the only thing hindering Edward from grabbing the prince and urging him to answer his query. 

“ I-I do not know! I did not know he was coming!” Daeron said defensively, trying to take hold of himself as he, like Elinora, was not one to lie. When music and chatter filled the halls once more, the three men warily turned to Elinora, whose gaze went downward and now stared blankly at the table and feast before them. “Eli?” Ser Gwayne called, and Elinora reigned in her emotions and tried to appear as if Prince Aemond had never arrived. 

“Could I have some more wine, please?” She requested softly, looking amongst the three men who stared at her, as if expecting she would break into tears or grow distraught at any moment. She blinked at them, not wanting to succumb to the hurt she once stewed in before. “Of course, sister.” Edward finally spoke, taking a pitcher of wine into his hands and pouring it into his sister’s chalice. Elinora gave a small smile and continued to drink her torrid emotions away. 

“What… what was that? How— how can she seem so unfazed? I— just days before, she was crying her heart out because of the prince.” Edward said in shock as Elinora and Daeron now danced in the middle of the hall, Ser Gwayne by his side, and the knight constantly glanced towards his nephew, who keenly observed Elinora and Daeron dance. “I do not know.” That was all Ser Gwayne could utter, and before Edward could speak once more, the knight stood and headed towards his nephew to get their answers. 

“Uncle, have you come to welcome me?” Aemond questioned as he saw from his peripheral vision that Ser Gwayne had come to him, but his eye was still transfixed upon Elinora, who danced with his brother. “What in the name of the seven are you doing here, Aemond?” Ser Gwayne gritted out in contempt, but there was still a tight smile on his lips so the other guests would not grow suspicious. “I thought it should be quite plain, uncle, I came for a ball,” Aemond replied, finally turning to his uncle, who had a steely look under his clear blue eyes. “You must leave— you do not belong here.” 

Aemond laughed humorlessly, returning his gaze upon Elinora, who still did not turn to his direction. “I am a prince of the realm… I belong to any place I please.” Aemond said smugly, his eye still urging Elinora to turn to him just as she did days before. Ser Gwayne let out an aggravated breath as he too turned to Elinora and witnessed how Daeron tried to fend off the lords who tried to dance the next song with her. “Very well, you are right that you are entitled to go about wherever you please, but you shall never go near her, Aemond.” 

Before Aemond could utter his response, Ser Gwayne was already on his way back to their table. “Let your sister dance with the lords,” The knight suddenly told Edward, who had been glaring at the prince who sat at the head table. “What?” Edward questioned as Daeron once again led Elinora to a dance, leaving the wall of lords who vied for a chance to dance with the girl. “Let Elinora dance with a lord— just… just trust me, Edward.” Ser Gwayne implored, and at that very moment, Edward spotted Lord Tristan by a table looking upon his sister. Edward gave a silent nod and went on to do what the knight said. 

“Do you wish to rest?” Elinora questioned Daeron as he seemed out of breath after their second dance, before Daeron could deny her offer, Edward appeared with Lord Tristan Redwyne in tow. “Sister… might you humor lord Redwyne with a dance? I must speak with Daeron for a moment,” Edward stated, a small, encouraging smile on his lips as Elinora only blinked at him. She must admit, his request rather caught her by surprise, as she was never permitted to dance with others except the three men who were trusted by her parents. But as it was Edward who suggested it, Elinora could only smile and give a nod, trusting her brother’s judgement. 

When Aemond saw the scene unfold before his eye, he felt the fire in his veins grow. Who was that lord who dared to dance with his Elinora? Since when was she permitted to dance with another without her parents’ permission? Aemond turned his eye upon Lord Edward, who dragged along his brother off to the side, having that sinking feeling that Edward was responsible for such a scene. Aemond had to sit there and watch as another took hold of Elinora’s hand and pulled her close to their frame. It was torture— having to watch another have something Aemond longed for. 

Aemond could no longer sit there and watch the scene before him, and so, in an incredibly rare occurrence, and because of his dire circumstance, he invited a lady to dance. Aemond invited the matriarch of House Florent to the floor, and many took notice as the standoffish and well-known aloof prince of the realm engaged in merriment.

 Elinora tried to rein in her composure as she noticed Prince Aemond now only stood a few dancers away from her. She unknowingly held onto Lord Tristan’s hand tightly. “How are you finding the festivities, my lady?” Lord Tristan questioned as he spun Elinora, feeling how cold her hands had grown. Elinora was a bit preoccupied with her thoughts, so it took a moment for her to reply. “It’s quite lovely… House Florent has always thrown such enjoyable balls,” She smiled, and she felt her heart stutter as the upcoming step of the dance was that the ladies must spin around and switch partners. And as if by cruel or inevitable fate, she was spun into the arms of Prince Aemond. Elinora quickly tensed when in the familiar arms of the prince, her eyes downcast as she did not have it in herself to look upon his haunting lilac eye once more. 

This was what Aemond was waiting and hoping for. To have Elinora back in her arms and have the opportunity to speak with her, to explain all that he did. But the words he desperately wanted to utter died on his tongue, and all he could do was look upon her who shielded her gaze from him until the dance dictated that she must be spun back to the lord she had first begun the dance with. 

Aemond cursed himself as he let the opportunity pass him. But the gods seemed to show mercy towards him, as at the end of the song, he saw Elinora quickly depart from the lord she danced with and passed through the guests to exit the great hall without the knowledge of Edward, Daeron, and Ser Gwayne, who were still enveloped in a serious conversation. Prince Aemond followed suit and slipped out of the hall and followed the lingering scent of the girl that led him to the gardens of House Florent. 

There she stood, among the greenery, with the moonlight shining upon her, and the usual butterflies that flew above her head were exchanged by luminous fireflies. “What… what are you doing here?” Elinora asked faintly, her back still turned from the prince because she could not let herself look upon his eye and be entranced by him once more. 

“I came for you,” Aemond answered plainly, his hand itching to pull her towards him so he could look upon Elinora’s enchanting jade eyes once more. Elinora frowned as the night breeze nipped at her face, and the tears she tried hard not to slip now threatened to fall from her eyes. She took in a shaky breath as she felt her knees weaken as she heard the prince’s voice once more. His cold, silky voice that she had always thought was soothing, even if it managed to make her heart beat erratically.

Elinora bit harshly on her tongue and finally turned to face the prince. He was only an arm’s length away, his eye already entranced on her, and his lips were parted as if he wished to say more. Prince Aemond dared to step closer, but Elinora softly shook her head and backed away, placing clear boundaries that she had neglected to do so before. 

“ I-I wish to apologise. I must explain to you my actions.” Aemond clarified, and felt his cold hands further grow cold at the furrow between Elinora’s brows. It felt unworldly to look upon her. With the silver light of the moon shining down and the fireflies flying around her as if she were some nymph… it was a miracle that Aemond could even speak at all. “Then write me a letter! You need not come here— you shouldn’t have come here!” Aemond was taken aback as the usual soft voice of Elinora grew louder; the sentiment she uttered was in agreement with Daeron’s when he first discovered Aemond’s reason for coming to the keep. “Please, Elinora… just let me exp—“ 

It did not matter that the prince came for her. In truth, it no longer mattered to her that he lied and deceived her. It was just because they could never be. She was bound to another, and no matter how hard she prayed, the gods would not humor her and let Aemond be hers, and she be Aemond’s. She could no longer succumb to false hopes and wishful thinking. She could not let either of them hope that they could be each other’s as their lives had been paved and planned long before they had met. Everything was decided, but neither of them had a say. 

“I don’t care!” Elinora suddenly burst out, even surprising herself at the volume and hardness in her voice. “I…  I do not want nor need your explanation. What’s done is done— let us leave it be. Let us just forget all that has happened— pretend that we have never met one another.” Elinora stated, voice heavy with emotion. “I am betrothed to another, and you are to be betrothed as well… we could never be—it was all a mistake, your highness.” 

Your Highness… she could not even utter his name. Aemond’s soft gaze, which was only for Elinora, hardened at her words. “You need not apologize… we were both at fault. Good night, your highness… enjoy the ball.” Elinora finally said after the silence that hung and clawed between them, and she could see how the prince’s lilac eye that once looked at her with hope now turned to contempt. 

Elinora did not wait for the prince’s reply, as she hastily returned inside the castle walls, as her tears began to fall, and her heart throbbed with the loss of the love she had always longed for. 

“I’m leaving.” Aemond stated abruptly as he passed his brother in the empty halls of House Florent. The feast was well and truly over, the remnants of merriment hung faintly in the air and riddled the halls. The guests had either retired for the night or went back to their respective houses. 

Daeron frowned severely, pausing in confusion as he watched his brother pass by before finally comprehending his words. Daeron was still muddled with the long and strenuous conversations with Edward and his uncle, all regarding Aemond’s presence in the Reach. “Leave? What are you on about?” Daeron questioned, speeding through the halls to match his brother’s long, stomping gait. 

“I’m returning to Kingslanding,” Aemond stated once more, the explanation that Daeron sought for unuttered. Daeron shook his head and forcefully pulled at his brother’s arm. “What do you mean? I—“ 

“It’s done. She has no wish to hear what I must say, very well then. She wants to pretend that our paths have never crossed? Then consider it true.” Aemond gritted out, rejection and rage burning hot in his veins. How dare she?! How dare she cast him off to the side and ignore his gesture? How dare Elinora let him follow her around like some love-sick pup?  Aemond’s jaw ticked as the girl’s words still echoed through his mind. Aemond was a reasonable man. If Elinora truly wished for both of them to pretend that either existed, then Aemond was more than happy to oblige. (At least that is what he’ll tell himself.)

“What? You came all this way! And you decide now to give up?” Daeron questioned. He had just spent the past week exerting great effort in hiding his brother’s presence in the Reach, and the whole of his night was spent in an argument with Edward, his closest friend, because he believed that whatever understanding made between Aemond and Elinora was true and pure— he believed that the two of them were made for one another. Daeron could not stand idly by the side as the two of them simply gave up!

“Aemond, she loves you,” Daeron said sincerely, knowing even if Elinora did not utter it, it did not mean it was any less true. Aemond scoffed and rolled his eye. “It’s true! You, too, believe it because if you did not, you would not have gone here. You would not have confessed to me what you felt for her.” Daeron reasoned. “But she sai—“ 

“It does not matter what she says now. You cannot blame her. Eli is simply confused— in shock! For the past days, she had been mourning you— she has been drowning her sorrows in wine… Wine, Aemond! She needs time.” Aemond gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he still wished to retreat back to his home and forget all about Elinora. But a greater part of him— perhaps the romantic in him that none thought existed, wanted him to stay and wait for Elinora to be his. 

“What would you have me do?” Aemond sighed, and Daeron felt a smile creeping up on his lips despite the harsh glare his brother threw upon him. “Just be you… she apparently likes that,” Daeron muttered, uncertain what to reply if he were being honest. Aemond’s frown furthered. “You wish for me to be mean to her again?” He questioned as he was in disbelief that despite his cold and calloused being, Elinora had still wanted to be with him. 

Daeron had no word of response, trying to remember how Elinora and Aemond came to be because, in hindsight, they were truly complete opposites whose beings did not seem to coincide with one another. “I— let us just rest for the night and think on how to proceed tomorrow. We must keep our minds sharp, brother.” Daeron suggested, as he was exhausted from the lack of festivities he had partaken in. 

“Have you spoken to him?” Edward could not help but question as he and his sister broke fast in her guest chambers the following morning. Elinora had been acting suspiciously for the past few hours in Edward’s eyes. Days before, after all that had transpired in his capital, Elinora had grown to a custom of being overly silent-a suffocating silence that Edward could not succumb to, so he would try to relieve it by trying to make various conversations with his sister. However, today, it would seem a myriad of words slipped out of the girl’s lips. 

First, it was about the weather, then it was about how she missed her pet cat, and now, Elinora spoke about the furnishings of the chambers she was assigned in— furniture that they had used and seen since they were children, in which Elinora had no particular interest in years before. “To whom, brother?” Elinora questioned, her voice holding a pitch of fictitious enthusiasm, pretending that all is well even if they had just seen the man who had caused her melancholia. 

Edward licked his lips and let out a heavy breath. “To the prince, Elinora.” Elinora knitted her brows, “I have not seen Daeron since last night,” She answered, and Edward could only blink at his sister. “I meant Prince Aemond.” He clarified and watched as Elinora’s cheery facade staggered for a quick moment. 

“I… I have.” She admitted, shielding her gaze from her brother, and instead looked upon the vast view of greenery the balcony offered. Edward swallowed and raised his cup of tea to his lips, wondering if he should ask what they spoke of. Before he could, Elinora spoke once more, saving him from the peril of having to pry. “He said he came for me.” Edward sat in anticipation as Elinora twiddled with the ends of her hair. “That he wishes to apologize and explain his actions.” 

“And what did you say?” Edward had debated telling Elinora the truth. That her betrothal was a promise that shall be broken— that, in theory, she was free to choose the man she wished for. However, it was not his place. He needed the blessing of their parents. He needed them to be the ones to utter the truth. She needed their permission to choose the man she wished for. Edward had naught but a choice but to stew in silence, and in truth, he feared that if his sister learned the truth, her young and naive heart would still choose the prince who did nothing but lie and deceive her. 

“I said that his apologies are not needed. That… that it would be best for both of us to pretend that neither of us has met and that what has transpired in the Capitol must be forgotten.” 

Edward chewed on his cheek, watching as his sister returned her gaze to the green pastures and let out a heavy breath that mirrored his. “It is for the best, sister.” Edward reached forward and took Elinora’s hand in his, giving it a gentle and comforting squeeze before the two of them returned to the meal and set aside the thought of a One-Eyed Prince.

When noon was approaching, Edward was in the courtyard of House Florent to bid farewell and relay his thanks to their hosts, but it would seem he was cornered by the lord, who brought up the subject of Prince Aemond. “It would seem the prince wishes to stay in the reach indefinitely… and as much as it is a privilege and pleasure for our house to lay host to Prince Aemond, however, my house and I are set to leave for my wife’s house for the fall.” Lord Florent informed, and Edward balled his fists as he understood where the lord’s words were leading. 

“Well, I’m certain the prince would prefer to stay in Oldtown, with his brother and his kin, my lord.” Edward reasoned and glanced towards Elinora, who mingled with the other guests who were set to leave that afternoon as well. “I’m well certain as well, but unfortunately, the castle is set for construction… they’re trying to further fortify their walls, and I would assume that the sound of the worksite would prove cumbersome and, in truth, offensive for a prince.” 

Edward was ready to utter another suggestion to ward off the thought of Prince Aemond staying in their castle walls, but before he could, Lord Redwyne, one of the loyal advisers of his father, intruded into the conversation. “My lord, it would be impertinent of your house not to invite Prince Aemond to stay in your home, especially as you had recently stayed in his. Besides, as your house is paramount in the Reach, it is only customary that Prince Aemond should stay in Highgarden. And if your concern is for his kin by his side, Prince Daeron does often come to your house to visit you and Lady Elinora.” 

Edward dug his nails into the palms of his hands, forcing a tight and obliging smile on his lips. “Very well then, I suppose the matter is settled, " he said in a forced, shielded contempt. But if you would, my lords, may you be the ones to inform the prince, as my sister and I must be going, as Elinora desperately misses her cat,” Edward stated with a bow and hastily left the two lords so he and Elinora could finally leave. 

“Sister,” Edward spoke, trying to find the right words to tell his sister of the news, but it would seem impossible as he was filled with apprehension to tell Elinora what was to happen in fear of her reaction. “Yes, brother?” 

Before Edward could reply, he took hold of Elinora’s frame as their wheelhouse jostled erratically and the panicked neighs of horses and their men reached their ears. Edward tucked Elinora in his arms as they both fell onto the floor of their wheelhouse, his sister’s panicked breathing reaching his ears, and Elinora’s hand tightly clutching him. 

When the jostling of their wheelhouse ceased, Edward looked upon his sister to see if harm came her way when the door of their wheelhouse abruptly opened. “Are you both well, my lord?” Their guard questioned, looking upon the children of House Tyrell in great concern. “What was that?” Edward questioned as he assisted Elinora back to her seat, but the girl turned her head to look outside. Edward’s question was left unanswered, and the roar of a dragon who flew lowly and was heading for Highgarden reached their ears and captured their attention. 

Edward sighed heavily as he looked upon the belly of the beast and turned to his sister, who looked outside the window in great question. “Prince Aemond shall be staying with us.” 

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[romanteacism]

Good luck with your finals, take your time. I know that writing is a difficult job that takes time 💕

Aww omg ty! 🥹🫶🏻

[romanteacism]

Please, I need another chapter of “sworn to love you” I’m dying of suspense. 😭🥲

Babes…i have finals— wait 😭