THE 7TH MOON [Aemond Targaryen]

Two - Her blood.

A deep red cloak plumed from the tips of her shoulders, and he took note of the way it trailed across the dirt. He remembered it as the one she always wore, he knew it to be so as it gave him a headache to even look at. Everything about her gave him a headache. What kind of swordsman would wear a dress and a bloody cloak to a battle?

"The princess is here to train just as you are." Criston narrowed his eyes, his palm suddenly pressed against the girl's upper back. "Pick up a sword my prince. You shall be training with her today."

"But I don't know anything-" Lae tried to reason with the guardsmen but he was quick to dismiss her.

"Prince Aegon is a fine swordsman, he shall be an example to you. Besides, of course you have read enough to know some technique my girl?"

"Some technique." She agreed

"Then put that big brain of yours to good use." Cole smiled, tapping the side of her head ever so gently, "That is something that Aegon cannot."

Quietly the Velaryon nodded and tightened the wooden blade in her fist, it felt heavy and somewhat unbalanced in her hand, she knew it would take some getting used to but she didn't allow herself that time before she raised her sword in defence against Aegon, pushing his blade away from her as he'd struck from behind.

"What kind of knight wears a dress to a battle?" He jeered, forcing the blade closer to his niece.

"What kind of knight draws his blade when a woman has her back turned?" She parried, forcing him back.

"One with skill." He smirked

"One that has no cock perhaps?" She sneered

Before Laenora was even able to defend herself once more, Aegon had struck. He pushed his blade against her belly, knocking her to the ground. He climbed on top of her small frame, pinning her beneath him, pushing the wood further and further against her skin until she felt the breath leave her lungs. Her head suddenly became dizzy and black dots appeared in her vision, willing her to meet the stranger; that was until her brother threw himself atop of Aegon's back.

"Let go of her!"

"Get off of me!" The eldest Targaryen threw Jace to the floor effortlessly, letting out a cruel laugh at the sight of the two heirs lay in the dirt. "The heir to the iron throne, and the heir to driftmark. Perhaps the dirt is where you belong bastard-"

"Ser Criston!"

No one had noticed the way Criston had clutched the handle of his sword that morning, the way he was unhesitant in drawing it upon the prince. No one except for Ser Harwin Strong that was, who's blood boiled at the sight of his children in the dirt, quivering with fear and indignity, all the while Criston stood over them.

"Perhaps if you paid the same level of attention to each of your students then these quarrels may not happen. Tell me why is the Princess not in armour?"

"Prince Aegon drew on her before we were able to get her properly fitted."

"And the Prince Jacaerys. Why must he separate his sister and his uncle if you are here?"

"Are you questioning the way I teach my pupils?"

"I'm merely holding a mirror to your mistakes." Harwin snarled

"Here niece." Aemond whispered, placing an arm beneath Lae's shoulders and lifting her to her feet, his touch lingered ever so slightly. "My brother does not understand his own strengths."

"It's because I'm a girl isn't it?" Tears burned her eyes.

He quickly took her hand, "It's because you're heir. Don't give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears."