The marriage of Aemond and Vaemyra was meant to be strictly political, giving House Hightower another possible ally, but their marriage is far from a sham. Whether it be love or lust, they work well. Their relationship has evolved ever so quickly as they have become perhaps perfect for one another. Aemond is always there for Vaemyra, he waits at her hand and foot and would do anything for her. And Vaemyra finds herself warming up to the prince, showing him a more vulnerable side of herself that few have seen over the years.

But not all are in favor of their union.

Ser Criston finds it completely sickening, but his feeble attempts at poisoning the prince against his wife are just that... attempts. He can never change the way Aemond sees her, for she is everything he's ever wanted. She's everything he's desired for so long... and now she's all his.

And even Daemon thinks the whole marriage is a sham. He nearly stormed over to the keep and put Aemond's head on a spike when he read the letter. He wanted to break bones and crush skulls but was talked out of doing so by his darling wife. While Rhaenyra isn't necessarily jumping for joy, she prays that her sister's new marriage will be better than the previous. She prays that her sister is happy, but also that she will still be by her side. Rhaenyra prays that her sister won't forget about all their happy memories together as children, for Rhaenyra certainly hasn't. The heir cherishes those precious moments from their youth. She's grateful for such a kind and caring sister and feels great pain and sorrow for all that she has endured which turned her into...

Into a Mad Targaryen.

Vaemyra presents herself to be as strong as she is wise, but behind that lies the truth. Her mind is feeble, broken, and fractured in countless ways. Her mind has been twisted and tortured for years, to the point where now she is willing to kill in cold blood and does so whilst feeling absolutely nothing. Her kind heart is hidden beneath layers and layers of trauma and pain and anguish and suffering, and her husband finds it absolutely beautiful.

Aemond loves her kind and nurturing soul that takes care of their father and is a friend to Helaena... but he also loves her fire that burns her victims alive and makes her a true dragon.

He loves her madness because he has it as well.

And the first six months of their marriage go absolutely splendidly. Aemond ends up spending almost as much time in the bedroom as he does training in the courtyard. Their desires and passions are only amplified when around each other and they will tear each other's clothes off whenever an opportunity arises.

But if one doesn't, they'll create one.

Vaemyra is pressed against a wall with her dress pushed up whilst Aemond holds her legs, or she's splayed across a table that Aemond has thrown everything off of with his head smushed between her thighs. They've shared each other's bodies so frequently and violently that the Kingsguards make jokes amongst themselves whenever they have to stand guard outside their door.

Aegon tries not to pay attention to it, and so drowns himself in wine and whores, just as his sister did before him, while Helaena is quite the opposite. She's simply happy that her siblings are happy, even if she has to cover her ears at night.

But the king... the king's state has worsened ever so quickly. His body is decaying as is his mind. His body is skinny and frail, his skin is old and decrepit, and his teeth are black and rotten. He's constantly given milk of the poppy to soothe him, but it's not what he wants.

In his fragile state, Viserys only wants his girls. He wants to see Rhaenyra and Vaemyra. He wants to listen to their voices and see their beautiful smile. All he wants are his little girl... and yet they aren't anywhere around.

Rhaenyra is off on the isle of Dragonstone and Vaemyra is too busy fucking to get her head on straight.

The months have been kind to the newlyweds, but not to everyone. Both King Viserys and Lord Corlys find themselves to be in moments of horrible health, and it brings concern to court. It brings up the question of succession, as in who will inherit Driftmark when Lord Corlys dies.

His brother, Vaemond?

Or his grandson, Lucerys?

A question that must be brought before the crown to decide, for one wrong move, and Vaemond Velaryon could be charged with treason if he dares to bring to question the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's children.

Vaemyra and Aemond begin their morning like most others, beneath the sheets with his mouth attached to her core, for he believes every morning should start with an orgasm. She moans as her fingers comb through his beautifully straight hair and grip it tightly and her breath hitches. He smiles as he recognizes her body language, and continues his assault on her cunt as he coaxes her through an orgasm, then pulls away and pops his head out from the covers.

" Good morning, jorrāelagon," He muses.

" Are you going to say that every time?" She questions.

" Only until it stops being true."

Vaemyra gently chuckles at his words, then brings her hand over to gently cup the right side of his face, where her thumb gently grazes over the large scar by his eye. Aemond leans into her touch while he keeps his eye locked on hers, and springs to action as she attempts to remove the eye patch. He grabs her wrist to stop her, but she doesn't even so much as flinch. She stares him down, keeping her eyes on his, not blinking and hardly breathing as she removes her hand from his grasp to try again.

Aemond's jaw clenches and his eye peers down to her stomach as she removes the patch to reveal the grand sapphire he has hidden in the socket where his eye once was.

" Ziry iksos gevie ( It's beautiful )" She comments as her gaze gets lost in the stone's reflection.

" Ao sagon gevie ( You're beautiful )" He corrects with a sly smirk.

The black sails soon head into the harbor, and off the ship comes the Targaryens and Velaryon children, riding in the carriage to the Red Keep where practically no one awaits their arrival, other than that of Vaemyra.

" All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen."

The carriage doors open and outsteps Rhaenyra, expecting at least a small crowd for her arrival, but sees only her sister, to which she is eternally grateful.

" Welcome back," Vaemyra greets as she approaches and hugs her sister, " How is the little one?" she places her hand upon the round belly.

" Kicking me constantly," Rhaenyra utters as her eyes search around the courtyard, " Sister... where is everyone?"

" Elsewhere," Vaemyra sighs, then looks over her shoulder to see the two brunette boys, " Are those, my little nephews?"

" We aren't little anymore, aunt," Jace comments as he steps forward with his brother, " I'm taller than you now."

" Yes, but I'm still older," She chuckles as she brings her nephew into a hug, then pulls away and looks at his brother, " Lucerys."

" Aunt Vaemyra," The young boy nods as he stands formally in the presence of the princess.

" No hug?"

Luke hesitates. He's undergone so much prepping and training, that he's almost forgotten how to be normal in front of her. He extends his arms and wraps them around his aunt, who engulfs him in a large hug as she closes her eyes. But when they open, they land on the face of a traitor.

Daemon.

But Vaemyra bites her tongue, instead opting to grab her sister's hand to lead her back inside the castle, allowing Daemon to follow and Jacerys and Lucerys to wonder on their own. The prince and princess step inside the castle, approaching the grand staircase and they begin to notice all the differences between now and when they once left.

" I would say it's nice to be home, but I scarcely recognize it," Rhaenyra comments as she gazes upon a statue of the Seven where her house sigil once stood.

" A lot has changed," Vaemyra affirms as her uncle hums, " As I see much has changed with you."

Vaemyra smiles at the two silver hair children being held by the nannies.

" What are their names?"

" Viserys and Aegon."

Which makes Vaemyra chuckle.

" Should we be expecting any more little ones to be running around?" Rhaenyra ponders as her eyes quickly glance down at her sister's stomach.

" Not unless you know something I don't," Vaemyra notes with a slight shrug.

" What she means to ask is has that cunt husband of yours fucked a baby into you, yet?" Daemon interjects, earning a slap to the chest from his wife.

The younger princess takes a deep breath at his words, smiling sweetly as her eyes tell a different story entirely.

" No, dear uncle... he has not," She muses in a voice that's bone-chillingly nice.

" How's father?" Rhaenyra asks to quickly change the subject.

But when Vaemyra meets her eyes, the sad tale tells itself with her gaze.

" You'll have to see for yourself."

And so, Vaemyra leads her sister and uncle up the large stone staircase in the castle, and up to the king's quarters, where the wooden doors are pushed open to reveal the room filled with incense smoke and his large figurines. It's unsettling to see the cobwebs littering about, but nothing compared to the king's state, which Rhaenyra and Daemon see for the first time as they near his bedside.

" Father?" Rhaenyra calls out as she pulls back one of the white curtains and listens to the sound of his wheezing breath.

She continues forward as Daemon and Vaemyra stay behind the curtain.

" Who goes there?" Viserys questions as he feels her presence.

" Father, it's me, my king. Rhaenyra. I'm here with Vaemyra and Daemon."

Daemon glances over to his niece, who lifts her head and looks over at him as well. Her harsh and angry feelings toward him die down for just a moment as they feel the pain of Viserys sitting in that bad, and then step through the curtain together

" Daemon... Daemon," Viserys repeats through his wheezing breaths, " Help me up," and so Rhaenyra steps forward to steady her father as he sits up further in his bed, then grabs Rhaenyra's hand as he looks up at his brother, " It's been so long."

Daemon's eyes tilt downward, finding it hard to look at his brother and not cry. He feels the pain and sadness right in his heart, both him and Rhaenyra feeling the aching heart that Vaemyra has felt for far too long.

" The Sea Snake has taken a grave wound in battle in the Stepstones," He utters.

" When? We won that war years ago," Viserys wheezes.

" No. The Triarchy is resurgent. The fighting is anew. There's... There is a petition to decide upon the succession of Driftmark and the heir to the Driftwood Throne."

" Petitions? Alicent and Otto... they see to all that business now."

" No, brother, listen to me. You are to affirm your position for Lucerys... to be Corlys Velaryon's successor.

" Has something happened to Lord Corlys?"

The door creaks open as one of the nannies brings in the little princes, making both Vaemyra and Rhaenyra smile.

" Father... there's someone we wish to introduce you to," Rhaenyra utters with one of her children in her arms as she sits at her father's bedside, "That is Aegon And this... is Viserys."

" Viserys," The King smiles, " Now that is a name fit for a king."

There is a small, fleeting moment of happiness, but one broken as the King begins to moan in pain, causing the babes to cry as he begs for forgiveness as well as his tea. Daemon grabs the cup by the bedside, but brings it to his nose in order to small.

" Is that--" He starts.

" Milk of the poppy," Vaemyra states with her arms crossed, " Yes."

" How often does he drink this?"

" Every day."

The day comes to an end and brings the night forth, and a storm along with it. The storm rages on outside the castle as rain pours down its walls, adding a somber and menacing ambiance to those who live within it.

Rhaenyra's desperate attempt at getting Princess Rhaenys on her side just may work. It will betroth Jacerys to Baela, and Lucerys to Rhaena, cementing Baela to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Rhaena to be Lady of the Tides.

But all that depends on the outcome of the morrow, for there must still be a trial.

A trial that only Ser Vaemond and Otto seem to be looking forward to, seeing as the king will not be present due to his health.

All those within the Red Keep retire to their bed chambers, staying warm and staying dry as thunder crackles all around. A storm that could be seen as the conflict within the Valyrian families. A storm that is much more than what meets the eye.

Vaemyra and her husband lie in bed, bellies full and thirsts quenched from their goblets of wine. Her eyes remain up to the ceiling as her ears listen to the storm outside, whilst Aemond lies on his stomach with his lips trailing all around her soft supple skin.

" Skoros iksis isse aōha bartos, ñuha jorrāelagon? ( What is in your head, my love? )" He purrs as he kisses her thighs.

" Everything," Vaemyra simply responds.

" And what does everything entail?"

" The trial, my sister, my father, my children."

To which Aemond chuckles as he scoots up so his chin is parallel with her belly button.

" Do not worry yourself with these thoughts," He says.

" Are you trying to patronize me?" Vaemyra questions.

" I am simply trying to care for my wife," Aemond muses as he bends his head down to begin kissing around her stomach, " Perhaps what we could think about is children of our own?"

Vaemyra's body tenses at his words, the small hairs on her skin stand up straight as goosebumps spread.

" Vaemyra?" Her husband ponders.

" One day," She states, " But not today."

" We are beginning to run out of time."

The princess scoffs. She removes her body from her husband's lips and swings her legs out of the bed to stand up and walk away.

" One day," Vaemyra repeats as she hurriedly places a robe over her shoulders, " But not today."

" You do realize the longer we wait the less likely it is for us to have children at all?" Aemond states as he gets out of bed as well as he watches his wife's frantic actions.

" Oh daor," The princess responds in their family's native tongue, with sarcasm lacing her words as she slips on a pair of shoes.

She goes to leave the quarters and leave the conversation entirely, but Aemond's hand grabs her arm and pulls her back, turning her around to face his gentle eye.

" Ivestragī nyke jikagon ( Let me go )" She seethes.

" Tell me what is wrong," He persists.

Vaemyra draws a deep inhale through her nose.

" Death claimed my mother when she was in the birthing bed... and I will not be subjected to the same fate."

" Vaemyra... in the event that I have to choose between my wife and my child... I will pick my wife every time," Aemond sternly utters.

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