The half-sister Targaryen princess' sit together within the Red Keep, keeping each other company as Helaena endures a pregnancy. Throughout the months of growing a babe, Vaemyra has attached herself to Helaena's hip, switching between her and the king for those she takes care of and watches over.

And anyone who dares to mess with either will be met with dragon fire.

Vaemyra braids her sister's hair as she stitches together a quite beautiful and mesmerizing bug, but an animal that is foreign to the elder princess. She's never seen it before but admires its beauty, nonetheless.

" It's a beetle," Helaena notes as she feels her sister's confusion.

" It's beautiful," Vaemyra adds as she continues to twist the hair between her fingers, " What's the meaning behind this one?"

But instead of a response, Helaena freezes. She sits ever so still, eyes wide and unblinking with the answer on the tip of her tongue but never leaving her mouth.

" Nothing," She quickly fibs, then continues the patchwork.

" Everything has a meaning with you," The elder sister says softly, " Out with it."

Helaena stays focused on the stitching in her hands that rests on her round stomach.

" The night always comes when the moon is full," She mumbles to herself.

But Vaemyra catches it yet again. She almost always understands Helaena's premonitions... but this one she can make no sense of. Her words fall flat on the mind of the princess, and so she moves on from it entirely.

The maester soon comes and relives Vaemyra of her duties, allowing her to roam freely, and where else would she go other than to her children? Vaemyra rides on Drea's back once more, allowing her children to be free and roam the skies together. They fly through the warm and blue Westerosi sky with not a care in the world, seemingly having the entire sky to themselves until someone or something emerges from below. Vaemyra looks down and sees the colossal body and wings of the largest dragon in the world.

Vhagar.

And as big as Drea may be, she's not as large as the Queen of all dragons. Vaemyra sees Aemond's head turn up to face her with a devilish smirk on his face, to which she ignores and instead has Drea fly straight up into the clouds, where Freya and Rhaeyn follow suit.

Aemond instantly accepts the challenge and has Vhagar fly after them, still seeing the small bit of red that is Rhaeyn.

But to his surprise, the princess and her dragons aren't anywhere to be found. They seem to have disappeared into the clouds. And even when he and Vhagar fly out of the clouds and see all of Kings Landing, they still have no idea where the hell they could be.

Only when Aemond returns to the dragon pit does he see Vaemyra with her children. He chuckles as he approaches whilst she pets her only son.

" Took you long enough," Vaemyra brushes off.

" My apologies. I will indeed do better next time," Aemond smirks as he stands before her and the dragon.

" Next time?" She questions as she turns to face him.

" Of course," He states as he steps forward, " I can't let you win every time."

" Clearly you know nothing about me."

" I know you don't like to lose."

" Obviously."

" And neither do I."

As Vaemyra gazes upon his eye, she sees and feels his words to be true, and she sees just how much he has grown. No more is he that little child that was constantly bullied by his brother and cast aside by everyone else.

Here he stands before her as a man, one who's grown cold and calculated, as well as cunning and strong. A trajectory all too familiar to the princess, for she was once that same little child that nobody blinked an eye about.

She sees so much of herself in her brother... perhaps this time it wouldn't hurt. Perhaps this marriage won't be as bad as the last, and perhaps they could work together towards a common goal.

But Vaemyra quickly shakes her head free of those preposterous thoughts, reminding herself exactly why she doesn't need another to complete her or to help her. Reminding herself that she's gotten this far all on her own.

" Daor tolvys iksis jāre naejot ērinagon, lēkia ( Not everyone is going to win, brother )" Vaemyra utters as she turns to walk away whilst the dragon keeper leads Rhaeyn into the pit.

" Yn kesan, mandia ( But I will, sister )" Aemond calls out in perfect High Valyrian, " Kesan ērinagon ( I will win )"

Deep down she knows that Aemond truly means it, but it just comes across as a childish threat, especially when there are more present circumstances, such as Helaena's labors.

Helaena goes into labor in the middle of the night, earlier than expected, sending everyone up and out of their beds to help the young princess. Vaemyra is right there with her, holding her hand as she screams from the contractions, and not a moment later the queen barges in and rushes to her daughter.

" You can leave, Vaemyra. I'm here now," Alicent says as she gives her daughter a kiss on the head.

" No, I want her to stay," Helaena grunts through the pain of her labors.

Both Vaemyra and Alicent lock eyes at this moment. The queen realizes that perhaps Vaemyra truly is on their side after all, and the princess realizes that after all this time, Alicent still doesn't trust her.

Not that she blames her.

Jahaerys and Jahaera soon grace the world with their presence, being born of true Targaryen blood to Helaena and Aegon, even if their father wasn't present for the birth.

Alicent and Vaemyra muse over the babes in Helaena's arms, for Alicent is now a grandmother and Vaemyra is an aunt once more. The queen gets to hold her newly born granddaughter in her arms, gently bouncing the darling babe as she stares in awe, leaving Vaemyra alone and off to the side while only being able to watch.

" May I hold one?" She asks, causing the queen's neck to snap in her direction.

" It's alright, mother," Helaena nods as she bounces her son in her arms.

Alicent's eyes move from her daughter to her stepdaughter, who stands patiently with her arms held open.

" Are you well?" The queen asks.

To which the princess exhales a breath so hot it practically comes out as smoke.

" Yes," Vaemyra grits through her teeth as to not explode on the queen.

Vaemyra takes a step forward, her gaze fixed on the precious bundle in Helaena's arms. The air around them grows heavy with tension as Alicent assesses the situation. She hesitates for a moment before nodding and carefully passing one of the babies to Vaemyra. Gently cradling the newborn in her arms, Vaemyra's heart swells with both joy and sadness. She marvels at the delicate features of the Targaryen child, the softness of its skin, and the tufts of silver hair. A mix of emotions washes over her—a deep longing for a child of her own, a bittersweet happiness for her niece and nephew, and a sense of unease in the presence of Alicent.

The room is filled with the sounds of Helaena's labored breaths and the soft coos of the newborn. Vaemyra's eyes meet Alicent's, and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passes between them. Despite their differences, they share a common love for these children, these innocent beings born into a world of political turmoil.

Vaemyra finds solace in the warmth of the baby in her arms, whispering soothing words and planting gentle kisses on its forehead. It is a fleeting glimpse into what could have been, a tender connection that momentarily eases the ache within her.

As the minutes pass, Helaena's pain subsides, and she takes a moment to catch her breath. Her tired eyes meet Vaemyra's, gratitude shining within them.

"Thank you for being here, Vaemyra," Helaena murmurs, her voice filled with exhaustion and appreciation.

Vaemyra nods, a soft smile gracing her lips. Alicent observes the scene, her stern expression softening just a fraction. She takes a step closer to Vaemyra, her voice laced with a mix of caution and vulnerability.

"As the babes' aunt, I trust you will... look after them," Alicent says, her voice almost gentle.

"Of course, " Vaemyra responds, curtly.

Alicent studies Vaemyra for a moment, searching her face for any signs of deception. Slowly, the queen nods, a silent acceptance passing between them.

Vaemyra gently hands the baby back to Helaena, who cradles it with weary but radiant arms. The bond between the two women, while fragile, has shifted ever so slightly. Vaemyra understands that trust is a delicate flower, one that must be nurtured and allowed to bloom over time.

As the room begins to settle, Vaemyra steps back, allowing Helaena and Alicent to bask in the joy of their newfound grandmotherhood. She finds a quiet corner to herself, a mix of emotions swirling within her. In the depths of her heart, she knows that her role may forever be that of an observer, an outsider looking in on the joys and trials of motherhood.

But as she watches Helaena embrace her children, Vaemyra realizes that her love knows no boundaries. In the absence of her own offspring, she will continue to protect, support, and love these little ones with all her heart. Vaemyra remains in her quiet corner, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. She can't help but feel a mix of admiration, longing, and a twinge of sadness.

The weight of her infertility hangs heavy on her shoulders, a constant reminder of her inability to bear her own children. It is a source of grief that she has carried silently, hidden beneath her stoic facade. Yet, as she watches Helaena cradle her precious children, a flicker of hope stirs within Vaemyra's heart.

She imagines what it would be like to hold her own child, to experience the unconditional love and the profound connection that comes with motherhood. It is a dream that feels distant, an unattainable desire that gnaws at her soul. But in this moment, amidst the warmth and tenderness enveloping the room, she allows herself to dream, to hope for a future where her arms will not be empty.

A sigh escapes Vaemyra's lips, a mixture of resignation and determination. She knows that her path is different, her destiny diverging from the conventional expectations of a Targaryen princess. She has found solace in her dragons, her scaly children who bring her both comfort and purpose. But in the presence of these newborns, the longing for something more becomes almost tangible.

Months pass, and the courtship between Aemond and Vaemyra continues to unfold. Their encounters are filled with intensity and a constant push-and-pull dynamic. Aemond's persistence in pursuing her both intrigues and exasperates Vaemyra, as she struggles to reconcile her growing attraction with her desire for independence.

The Red Keep buzzes with rumors of their interactions, with whispers of their heated exchanges and stolen glances. Vaemyra, however, remains stoic and distant in public, refusing to let onlookers glimpse the inner turmoil she battles within.

On one particular evening, as the sun sets and paints the sky with hues of orange and gold, Vaemyra finds herself alone in the gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers fills the air, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the trees. It is a peaceful respite from the chaos of courtly life.

Lost in her thoughts, Vaemyra is unaware of Aemond's approach until she hears his footsteps behind her. She turns to face him, her eyes guarded yet curious.

"I see you've sought solace in the gardens," Aemond remarks, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"I find solace where I can," Vaemyra responds, her tone cool.

Aemond steps closer, his eye locked with hers. There is a fire in his gaze, a determination that refuses to be ignored.

"I've come to understand you better, Vaemyra," He says softly, his words laced with sincerity.

Vaemyra's defenses waver for a moment, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. Aemond continues, his voice filled with conviction.

"I don't seek to diminish your strength or control you. As your husband, I want to stand beside you, to be your equal and your partner," He surmises.

A mixture of emotions swirls within Vaemyra—resistance, longing, and a glimmer of hope. She searches Aemond's eye, seeking the truth in his words.

"And what exactly does that entail?" She asks, her voice softer than before.

Aemond takes a step closer, closing the distance between them as a gentle smile warms up his face.

" Spending more time with each other," Aemond simply states.

"And what if I refuse?" She challenges, her voice tinged with defiance.

" You won't."

Vaemyra's lips are kept in a straight line as her eyes bore into his. Standing before her is no longer the little boy who followed her around like a lost pup... but a man who knows what he wants.

"Very well," Vaemyra utters, "But remember, Aemond... I am not a prize to be won."

" Of course not," Aemond nods, " Your smile is the only thing I require. It is the greatest gift of all."

Vaemyra consciously reminds herself to not smile, and to not give in. Aemond wears somewhat of a smirk on his face, with a sense of confidence that's either genuine or manufactured.

The tension between Aemond and Vaemyra lingers, filling the air with an electric charge. They stand in the secluded garden, the world around them fading into insignificance as their gazes remain locked. Aemond's eye holds a mischievous glimmer, a silent invitation that Vaemyra can't help but feel in her very bones.

Vaemyra's breath catches in her throat, her chest rising and falling with an erratic rhythm. Aemond's words penetrate her defenses, resonating with a truth she has been suppressing. Her composure wavers, but she refuses to let him see the profound effect he has on her.

"I won't be swayed by your words alone," Vaemyra retorts, her voice laced with defiance and a hint of vulnerability.

Aemond's smirk widens, his eyes glinting with a challenge. He steps closer, closing the remaining distance between them. His hand finds its place, gentle and warm, cradling her cheek. The touch sends a surge of electricity through Vaemyra, her skin tingling with an unfamiliar heat. Desire intertwines with uncertainty, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions within her soul.

Their faces draw closer, their lips hovering mere inches apart, the boundary between them pulsating with unspoken possibilities. In this suspended moment, the air becomes charged with anticipation, their eyes speaking the unspoken, their desires battling for dominance.

Vaemyra stands at the precipice, teetering between the familiarity of her walls and the allure of surrendering to the intoxicating pull that binds them. Her heart pounds in her chest, a war raging within her. Yet, an unquenchable thirst for something beyond control and restraint surges through her veins, urging her to leap into the unknown.

In the midst of this tempest of emotions, Vaemyra makes a choice.

Summoning a surge of determination, she gently pushes Aemond away, severing the magnetic connection that had drawn them together. Surprise flickers across his face, his hand suspended in the air where her cheek had rested moments ago.

" No."

Perhaps the favorite word within her vocabulary. It is a full sentence in her mind, and it allows her to walk away from Aemond entirely, leaving him standing there all alone. He draws in a deep breath, summoning strength as to not allow his eys to produce any tears.

Aemond is strong in the ways of the sword, and has grown quite sinister since his eye was taken from him... but there's something about Vaemyra that makes him feel like a child all over again. There's something about her he cannot let go of. She's both the object of his desire, and the one thing that keeps his heart beating.

The day has arrived—the day of their wedding. The grand hall of the Red Keep is adorned with lavish decorations, an opulent display of House Targaryen's power and prestige. The air crackles with anticipation as noble lords and ladies gather to witness the union of Aemond and Vaemyra. Yet, amidst the joyful celebration, there is an undercurrent of tension that seems to follow the betrothed couple wherever they go.

Vaemyra stands at the altar, her black gown flowing around her in a sea of silk and lace. Aemond, handsome and resolute, stands beside her, his eyes never leaving her face. His silver hair falls loosely around his shoulders, and the dragon brooch on his cloak glimmers in the candlelight.

As the ceremony begins, Vaemyra's heart races within her chest. She can feel Aemond's gaze upon her, an intense weight that both thrills and unnerves her. Their eyes lock, and time seems to stand still. In that moment, their hearts beat in synchrony, the unspoken desires between them echoing in the hallowed space.

The vows are spoken, words of commitment and devotion that hang heavy in the air. Their hands touch as they exchange rings, a tangible connection that sends shivers down Vaemyra's spine. Aemond's touch is both electrifying and comforting, his warmth seeping into her very being. The tension between them is palpable, a magnetic force that pulls them together even as they stand apart. The guests watch, their eyes darting between the couple, sensing the unspoken chemistry that crackles in the air. But for Vaemyra and Aemond, the world around them fades into insignificance as they become lost in each other's gaze.

With each passing moment, Vaemyra's walls begin to crumble. A mixture of fear and longing swirls within her, a battle between the desire to protect herself and the yearning to welcome Aemond into her heart. His unwavering gaze is both a challenge and an invitation—one she finds herself unable to resist.

As the ceremony reaches its culmination, the priest pronounces them husband and wife. The hall erupts in applause, the sound echoing off the walls and mingling with the beating of their hearts. Yet, amid the celebratory chaos, Vaemyra and Aemond remain locked in their own private universe. They approach each other, their steps slow and deliberate. Aemond's eyes never leave hers, his gaze filled with a depth of emotion that threatens to unravel her defenses. Vaemyra's breath catches as he takes her hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. It is a dance of seduction and restraint, a delicate balance between surrender and self-preservation.

As they move together in their first dance as husband and wife, the world around them fades away. The tension between them is palpable, an unspoken language that flows through their entwined bodies. With each step, their eyes remain locked, a silent conversation unfolding between them.

Vaemyra begins to feel a shift within her, a crack forming in the walls she has meticulously built. Aemond's presence, his touch, his unwavering gaze draws Vaemyra deeper into his orbit, eroding her resistance with every passing moment. The intensity between them is both exhilarating and terrifying, like a dance on the precipice of surrender.

Their bodies move in harmony, guided by an unspoken understanding. Aemond's strong arms envelop Vaemyra, their movements fluid and graceful. With each gentle sway, their eyes never stray from one another, locked in a magnetic connection that defies the chaos of the wedding celebration.

As the music swells, the tension between them crescendos, threatening to consume them both. The world fades into a blur, and it is as if they are the only two souls in existence, bound together by an invisible thread of desire. The rhythm of the dance mimics the rapid beat of their hearts, echoing the building fervor within them.

In the depths of Vaemyra's eyes, Aemond glimpses a flicker of surrender. It is a fragile vulnerability, a crack in the armor she has worn for so long. With each twirl and spin, he inches closer to breaking down the barriers that guard her heart. A small smile tugs at the corners of Vaemyra's lips as she succumbs to the irresistible pull of Aemond's presence. In this shared moment, she allows herself to be vulnerable, to let go of the control that has defined her existence. The weight of her past begins to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of liberation and the promise of love.

As the dance concludes, they find themselves breathless, their bodies still entwined. The applause of the onlookers washes over them, but their attention remains solely on each other. The world seems to hold its breath, waiting for what comes next.

Aemond's voice, low and husky, breaks the spell that has bound them.

"Vaemyra" He murmurs, his words a whisper meant only for her, " You look beautiful tonight."

" Do I not look beautiful every night?" She teases as her signature smirk crawls up her lips.

" Always... but tonight you are even more beautiful," Aemond utters, then pulls her close, " Kesrio syt iksā ñuhon ( Because you are mine )"

Aemond's eye burn with an intensity that matches her own. He takes a step closer, their bodies nearly touching, the heat between them palpable.  Their gaze remains locked, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. In that moment, Vaemyra feels a sense of surrender, not to the chaos of their desires, but to the possibility of a love that can weather the storms of their pasts.

The wedding celebration continues around them, but their focus remains solely on one another. They move through the crowd, their hands intertwined, their eyes never leaving each other's side.

And then, Vaemyra cannot wait any longer. She interlocks their fingers and guides Aemond out of the Grand Hall, where the couple walks up the many stairs of the Red Keep, until they are all alone in their chambers.

The moment the door is shut, their lips are locked. Vaemyra's arms wrap around Aemond's neck as his hands grip her waist. He's unable to remove the smile from his face, for it's all he's ever wanted. To feel her body against his. To hear her moans and watch her eyes shut with pleasure. He takes his time with his darling wife, and uses his tongue for his own pleasure as much as he does for hers. He stays between her legs for as long as he so wishes, though his wife will not complain.

Their consummation is echoed throughout the halls of the Red Keep, a reminder to all not to enter the chambers of Vaemyra and Aemond.

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