Bronze Beauty | Daemon Targaryen

The Other Side of the Coin

Aemond struggled to hold back a grin as Vaghar made another dive, stopping just above the sea's surface, her massive green talons grazing the water as she roared excitedly. Despite the dragon's old age, Aemond made it a point to ride her once a day at least, taking her for early morning flights before breaking his fast and joining his spoiled cousins for lessons.

It had been six months since he'd arrived at Driftmark, exhausted from the longest flight he'd ever taken, his body unused to being at high altitudes for long periods. His Velaryon cousins had been waiting for him, a stern Rhaenys watching over to ensure no unwanted incidents.

Despite his reservations and preconceived notions, the young prince enjoyed the freedom his fostering allowed him. The twins were a pain, Rhaena refused to speak to him for almost a month, not that he made much of an effort to approach her, and Baela had taken to beating him down in the training yard every chance she got.

It wasn't until an irritated Daemion locked them into a room together that they made any progress...

"He stole Vaghar!" Rhaena cried, hatred in her eyes as she held back tears, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

"My love," Daemion murmured, "We discussed this. A dragon cannot be stolen. Vaghar chose him."

"At our mother's funeral ." Baela snarled, her eyes throwing daggers at him, "He may not have stolen her, but he has shown he has no honour and cannot be trusted. Why is he here?"

Daemion sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. Aemond wanted to sneer as he looked at it; the man was obviously more Andal than Valyrian, yet his egg had hatched in his cradle. What the fuck did he know about not having a dragon? Of having to fight for that honour?

Old resentments surged up in Aemond, warming his blood as he glared balefully back at Baela, refusing to break first. He had done nothing wrong, and these little cunts helped cut out his eye for a supposed slight. He would not cower.

"I chose to claim my birthright. Vaghar is my dragon now." Aemond sneered, ignoring the slight sniffle Rhaena let out as anger and frustration gave way to grief. Aemond couldn't bring himself to care.

Why should he show pity to these spoiled brats?

He was forced to leave behind his mother and Jocelyn because his father had finally decided to show a spine after abandoning him and his siblings for over a decade for Rhaenyra and her lot.

"Enough!" Daemion roared, standing up straight, his muscular frame imposing in the small living area he'd chosen for this little 'talk.' "Enough, Baela, what's done is done. As for you, cousin."

Aemond fought to hide his flinch as Daemion Targaryen turned the full force of his glare onto him, his purple eyes flashing in the candlelight.

"You will remember whose hall you are in and that you are talking to its heir. Unless you want to make an enemy of the future Lady of the Tides, you will grow up and apologise like a man. Baela and Rhaena, you as well." Daemion hissed, his voice dangerously low as he glared the children into submission, only showing them a reprieve when they all bowed their heads.

Surprisingly, it was a tearful Rhaena who stepped forward first. Voice soft but intentional, she murmured, "I apologise for the loss of your eye, cousin, and beg your forgiveness."

Aemond was shocked but, under the watchful eyes of his uncle, begrudgingly replied, "I apologise as well... cousin. And ask for forgiveness too."