𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Silver hair

It had only been an hour since Daenera had given birth. She held her surviving baby, Aenys Targaryen, in her arms, his soft cries filling the chamber. She gazed down at him, marveling at how perfect he was, how alive. But her heart was heavy with grief for his twin.

Tears streamed down her face as she thought of the child that she had lost. She had carried him for nine long months, feeling his kicks and his movements, dreaming of the moment when he would be born and they would finally meet. But that moment had never come. When she had gone into labor, the midwife had tried everything she could to save the child, but it was too late.

Daenera couldn't help but feel guilty, wondering if there was something she could have done differently, if she had done something to cause the loss of her child. She held her surviving baby twin tighter as if trying to make up for the loss of his brother.

Aemond sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders, offering her comfort and support. He, too, was grieving, but he knew that he needed to be strong for his wife and for their surviving child.

"It's not your fault," Aemond whispered into her ear. "Sometimes these things just happen, and there's nothing we can do to prevent them."

She nodded, but she still felt the weight of guilt and sadness pressing down on her. She looked down at her surviving son, feeling a mix of love and fear. She knew that she would always be haunted by the memory of the child that they had lost, but she also knew that she needed to focus on the child that they had. She needed to be there for him, to love him with all of her heart, and to cherish every moment that they had together.

She looked up at Aemond, her eyes filled with tears. "What do we do now?" she asked.

"We take things one day at a time," Aemond replied. "We love each other. We love our child, and we remember the child that we lost. We honor his memory by living our lives to the fullest and by cherishing the time that we have together."

Queen Alicent made her way to the chambers of Daenera and Aemond, determined to see their new baby for herself. She knew that the child's appearance was of the utmost importance, and she needed to ensure that all was as it should be.

As she entered the room, she saw Daenera sitting in a chair, holding the baby in her arms. Aemond was standing nearby, looking down at his son with a proud smile on his face.

Alicent approached them, her eyes fixed on the baby's face. She needed to see for herself that the child had the telltale silver hair that marked the Targaryen bloodline.

"Congratulations, Daenera," Alicent said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I hear you have given birth to a boy."

"May I see the baby?" she asked, her voice cool and controlled.

Daenera looked up at her, her eyes narrowing slightly. She knew that Alicent was only interested in the baby's appearance, not in the child himself.

She hesitated, clutching her son closer to her chest. She didn't trust Alicent, but she didn't want to give her any opportunity to harm her child.

But before she could reply, the queen turned to a handmaiden who had accompanied her into the room. "Fetch the baby," she ordered. "I want to see if he has silver hair like his father."

"Mother." Aemond warned.

Daenera's heart skipped a beat. She had heard the rumors about the queen's obsession with the Targaryen features, and she feared for her son's safety.

She looked up to see Aemond standing by her side.

"Your grace, Lady Daenera is still recovering from the birth. If you wish to see the baby, I can bring him to you myself." He said.

Alicent looked annoyed but nodded her agreement. Aemond helped Daenera to sit up, and then he carefully lifted the baby from her arms and cradled him in his own.

Daenera watched anxiously as Aemond walked toward the queen, the baby's soft cries filling the room. But then something unexpected happened.

Aemond stopped in front of Alicent, but instead of handing the baby over, he turned to face Daenera and walked back to her side. He placed the baby in her arms and then stood protectively beside her.

"You don't need to see him, your grace," he said firmly. "My wife has given birth to a healthy son, and that is all that matters."

Alicent scowled but didn't argue. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving them alone.

Daenera left out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you." She whispered.

"Always my love."

Daenera gave him a small smile and glanced at the cradle with her lifeless child in it. She didn't want to bury him just yet. Part of her kept thinking that he was only sleeping and would awake soon.

Aemond sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in her arms. His heart swelled with love and pride as he looked at his newborn son.

He reached out a hand and gently stroked the baby's cheek, marveling at how soft and delicate his skin was. The baby stirred and opened his eyes, and Aemond felt a jolt of wonder as he looked into his semi dark eyes.

"He has your eyes," he said softly, turning to Daenera. "And your nose."

She smiled tiredly, but her eyes shone with joy. "And your chin," she said, tracing a finger along the baby's tiny jawline.

Aemond chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest. He had never felt so connected to anyone before, not even Daenera. But this tiny creature, his son, had already captured his heart.

As the baby started fussing, Aemond reached out and took him in his arms, cradling him carefully. He rocked him gently back and forth, humming a soft tune under his breath.

The baby quieted, his eyes closing again, and Aemond felt a sense of peace settle over him. He looked down at the small face, studying every feature as if memorizing them.

"I'll teach you how to ride a dragon," he whispered to the baby. "And how to wield a sword. And how to be a true Targaryen."

Daenera watched him with a soft smile, her eyes shining with tears. She knew Aemond would be a wonderful father, despite his fearsome reputation as a warrior.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, reaching out to touch his arm.

Aemond turned to her, his expression softening. "I wouldn't be anywhere else," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

And as he held their son close, Aemond knew that nothing in the world could ever break the bond between him, Daenera, and their child.