Journey ahead

"Heavenly Father, bear witness to the strength of your creation." Aemond Targaryen 

The red keep was bustling and filled with servants scurrying around like bees in a hive, each moving more swiftly than the one before maids carried flowers and silks, labourers setting up rafters, and stands for the grand tourney. The red keep was filled to the brim with high lords and ladies as nobles from across the seven kingdoms ventured to Kings Landing for the wedding of Princess Rheanyra, the King's chosen heir. 

However, in all the commotion, the keep had one room that was silently cut off from the joy of this momentous occasion as if it existed in a world of its own with two individuals sitting in the room: a girl adorned with crimson and gold silk, her raven curly hair descending to her lower back as she played with the hair of a boy whose head was resting in her lap. 

"I do spoil you, Aemon," she spoke in a sluttery voice as she played with his hair, twirling around her finger a strand of his coal-coloured hair.

"Must you ruin the last few moments we have by trying to rile me up?" Aemon replied in an exhausted voice, his eyes still closed. 

"We wouldn't have had to part ways if it wasn't for your stupid plan; consider this compensation for my emotional distress." Adella playfully chirped as she continued to stroke his hair. 

"It all worked out in the end, so it's fine, no harm, no foul," Aemon replied indifferently. 

"You could have died." Adella spoke a dangerous edge to her voice as her hands stopped stroking him, her emerald eyes shinning like wildfire as she glared at the boy in her lap. 

"Most likely would have, but risks are meant to be taken. You only have one chance to etch your name in history. I can't waste mine just because there's a little risk of meeting the stranger too soon." Aemon spoke in a bored tone as he tried to bury his face into Adella's abdomen. 

"That is stupid. Stop being stupid," Adella shot back as she swatted Aemon's shoulder. 

"It was a quick solution to our Corlys problem." Aemon replied, his focus shifting more to Adella's flat stomach than to the conversation at hand. 

Adella's eyes burnt as she looked down at Aemon till the cold fury was replaced with mischief, a cruel smirk adorning her face, a smile so unlike her usual radiant one that anyone who did not know her true self would think a faceless man had got the daughter of Jason Lannister. "Oh, but if you had died, I would have been left to live Aemon, and as a daughter of House Lannister, I'd have to do my duty and strengthen the house. Yes, imagine it, Aemon, me with another lord giving him a 'quick solution'." She spoke her sharp tongue, cutting away at Aemon better than any blade. 

The young prince shot up from her lap, his eyes filled with revulsion; his body was no longer loose; rather, his muscles were stiff, and his eyes carried a look of betrayal. "That is low, Adella, and I won't have you ever speaking of such vile things again," he roared, his clenched knuckles turning white as his finger dug into his palm, drawing blood as it trickled down his fist, staining the white sheets. 

"Vile, well, that would be the reality of the situation, Aemon." Adella spoke unflinchingly as she stared down at the princes. 

"I wouldn't allow it; you're mine and mine alone." Aemon shot back his eyes, blazing his voice, shaking the room with his resolve. 

"wouldn't allow it. You would be dead," she spoke in a bitter tone. "Aemon, I would be in the realm of the living, and this would be my fate, so the next time you intend to calculate a risk account for me as a variable in your calculation, because otherwise if you fail once and lose the gamble, I will be left alone without protection. Do you understand me? Don't you ever gamble with your life if not for your own sake, then for the sole fact that I would not be yours any longer." Adella spoke softly as she caressed the cheek of Aemon, gazing lovingly into his eyes as she could see her point had gotten through the thick skull of her beloved. 

"I... won't gamble with my life anymore, and I will seek to tame my more reckless urges for you, Adella, because you are mine." Aemon said as he relaxed a bit, letting Adella touch her forehead to his. 

"As you are mine," Adella whispered to Aemon as she moved away and began to move her hands gently around his clenched fist, softly caressing them as Aemon opened his fist. "Oh, you stupid boy, you've gone and hurt yourself. Did my little joke bother you that much, my prince? You do seem to have fallen quite deeply for me. Well, it is to be expected. I am the best." Adella spoke in a warmer voice as she caressed the prince, trying to shift the ambience of the room into a more pleasant one. 

Adella tore some of the sheets to wrap them around Aemon's hand as a makeshift bandage. Aemon looked rather shocked at her action. "What? You didn't expect me to use my dress? Did you, oh, the lovely daughter of the rock, leave a room with ripped garments—a room in which she was alone with the prince—how the tongues would wag?" Make sure to see a real maester for this," she said, her Chesser cat smile proudly displayed on her face. 

"You're despicable; you know that more fox than lion." Aemon gruffed back. 

"Maybe I am, but you're more honeybagger than dragon, so remember my lesson even when you're away in oldtown," she said as she guided his head back to her lap. 

"I will, still, you sure you need to be away from the court. I'm sure my grandfather could find a suitable role for you at court even if my mother did dismiss you as a lady in waiting." Aemon spoke his previous fury, having all but vanished into thine air. 

"Yes, I do need to introduce my sworne shield to my father as well as build my own friends from the west; they will make up most of my ladies in waiting. When I am Queen, I need to prepare. What will you do in Oldtown?" she asked quizzically. 

"I had wished to foster under Lord Borross Baratheon, but Oldtown will have to do. I will probably forge a few links at the citadel and talk to the highsepton and try to convince him to my side. Maybe have him recite a few words from the book of the father from the seven-pointed star about no woman ruling over a man." Aemon spoke in a disinterested tone as he began to once again enjoy Adella's lap. 

"I see. Don't leave me for old men and older books." Adella spoke in a playful tone till she became completely serious, and her finger gripped his throat tightly, not with enough force to hurt him but just to make him uncomfortable. "If I hear of you having any bastards, I will show you why they say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; I will not be cucked Aemon." Adella spoke in a dangerously low tone. 

"I'm insulted; do you honestly believe I would ever dishonour you like that, Adella? Have some faith in my self-restraint." Aemon said, a bit of fear leaking into his voice. 

"You are still a man, and I have seen your eyes wandering for quite some time, Aemon, from one pair of breasts to the next. Don't try to play me for a fool." Adella spoke, still agitated. 

"You noticed, huh? Well, it will only be for two to three years, then I will venture to the Stormlands from Oldtown to squire under Lord Borros. My grandfather is already trying to work out the details of that venture. You could join me there." Aemon replied, his voice filled with panic as if he had been caught with his mouth filled with stolen lemon cake. 

"I will Aemon this; could give me a chance to strengthen my own relationship with the three storms now do be a dear and stop acting like a wet cat and lay back down in my lap," Adella said as she dragged Aemon's head back into her lap. 

The End