𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Sweet Victory

Prince Aemond and Prince Maegor stood at opposite ends of the large courtyard, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze. A hush fell over the assembled knights and lords as they prepared to witness the duel between the two princes.

Aemond was dressed in black plate armor, his long silver hair tied back in a ponytail. Maegor, on the other hand, wore gleaming white armor with a black dragon emblazoned on his chest.

The two princes circled each other, swords at the ready. Aemond's Valyrian steel sword, Dragonfyre, glinted in the sunlight, while Maegor's blade, Killer, reflected the same light with a dark sheen.

With a roar, Aemond charged forward, his sword slashing through the air. Maegor met him head-on, their swords clanging together in a shower of sparks.

The two princes fought with a ferocity that left the onlookers breathless. Their swords clashed and rang out across the courtyard as they traded blows. Aemond's speed and agility were matched by Maegor's strength and skill.

"If my brother dies, I swear to the gods I will murder you." Saera said to Daenera angrily and then joined her mother.

Despite the intensity of the fight, neither prince seemed to gain the upper hand. They were evenly matched, each landing blows and parrying attacks with equal skill. The knights and lords watched in silence, transfixed by the spectacle before them.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Aemond saw an opening and lunged forward. Maegor's guard slipped just enough for Aemond to land a blow, his sword slicing through Maegor's armor and drawing blood.

Maegor stumbled back, his sword dropping from his hand. Aemond stepped forward, his sword pointed at Maegor's throat.

"Yield," Aemond said, his voice cold and commanding.

Maegor looked up at Aemond with a mixture of anger and defeat in his eyes.

"I yield," Maegor said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The knights and lords erupted into cheers and applause as Aemond lowered his sword, the duel over. The two princes stood there for a moment, catching their breath and looking at each other, knowing that this was far from over.

_______________

After the duel, Daenera found Maegor sitting alone in his chambers, nursing his wound. She could see that he was in pain, his armor and clothes stained with blood.

"May I come in?" she asked softly, standing at the door.

Maegor looked up at her, his expression guarded. "You may enter," he said, gesturing for her to come closer.

Daenera approached him slowly, her eyes taking in the sight of his injured arm. She could see the blood seeping through his shirt, staining it red.

"May I see your wound, Your grace?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Maegor hesitated for a moment but then nodded. He pulled off his shirt, revealing the deep gash on his arm.

Daenera gasped at the sight, her heart clenching in sympathy. "This looks bad," she said softly, her eyes flickering up to meet Maegor's.

Maegor nodded, his expression stoic. "It will heal," he said, his voice tight.

Daenera shook her head. "Not without proper care," she said firmly. "I can help you clean and dress the wound if you permit me."

Maegor looked at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Finally, he nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Daenera moved to his side, taking a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. She dipped the cloth into the water, wringing out the excess before pressing it gently against Maegor's wound.

He winced at the contact but said nothing. She worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning the wound and applying a salve to it. She then wrapped it in a clean bandage, making sure it was snug but not too tight.

Her touch was gentle and soothing, and Maegor found himself relaxing under her care.

"Thank you," he murmured as she finished bandaging him up.

"You're welcome," she said with a smile.

Maegor hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Daenera was surprised at first, but then she melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck. He had lost the duel, which meant that he had to stay away from her, but how could he?

For a moment, he forgot about everything else. The kingdom, the duel, the world outside. All that mattered was the warmth and tenderness of her embrace.

When they parted, Maegor looked at Daenera with a newfound appreciation.

"You should rest." She said softly and got up, walking out.
Maegor felt angry at himself for letting Aemond one eye beat him. He didn't know if he could give up Daenera.

Daenera found Prince Aemond alone in his chambers, still dressed in his black plate armor from the duel. She hesitated for a moment before entering, knowing that Aemond was not one to take kindly to intrusions.

But she had to speak to him to understand why he had hurt his own blood so deeply.

"Aemond," she said softly, standing by the door.

Aemond looked up at her, his expression guarded. "Hm?" He answered.

"I want to talk to you about Prince Maegor," she said, taking a step forward.

Aemond's eye narrowed. "What about him?" he said, his tone defensive.

"You hurt him," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Why did you do it, Aemond? Why did you duel with him to the point of drawing blood?"

Aemond looked away, his jaw tight. "Maegor needed to be put in his place," he said finally. "He has always been too ambitious, too eager for power."

Daenera shook her head. "He is your family." She said.

Aemond looked at her, his eyes blazing. "Maegor will never be my family," he said.

Daenera sighed. "Aemond, I know you are feeling threatened by Maegor's ambition. But hurting him will not solve the problem. You need to talk to him to find a way to work together."

Aemond snorted. "Talk to him? He won't listen. He's too blinded by his own desires."

"Aemond, when I look at you, I see so much power. You have something that I have never seen before in any man."
Daenera stood before Aemond, her eyes filled with reverence and awe. "You are a god," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Aemond looked at her quizzically, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "A god?" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

Daenera approached him slowly, her movements graceful and deliberate. "I mean that you are more than just a man," she said, her voice growing stronger with each word. "You are a being of immense power and strength, a force to be reckoned with. You are the embodiment of all that is divine."

Aemond chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You flatter me, Daenera," he said. "I am not a god."

But Daenera would not be deterred. She looked up at him with a fierce determination in her eyes. "No, you are not like any other," she said. "You are different. You are special. You have a destiny that is greater than any other man's."

Aemond looked at her, his expression softening. "And what is that destiny, Daenera?"

"To rule," she said simply.

(I know I'm posting a lot, guys it's just that my creative juices are flowing, and it's killing me not to release everything chapter I have written rn.)