limerence (ˈlimərəns)
→n. the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person
"You've changed, brother. A lot." His sister commented, looking all over him to find any sign of madness. "Thank you then, sister." Viserys r...
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XXV : The North
The sound of something like horseshoes, armors, and weapons hitting each other from afar makes Viserys turned his head.
A smile appeared on Daemon's lips, while Freya just lifted her chin.
At that confusing moment, a grey horse walked down the road to them. Followed by the troops of men in silver and blue armors. The man who's riding it was quite young, maybe even younger than him. His dark wavy hair falls past his ears and hung a few inches above his shoulders. His eyes were blue, as blue as the color of the deep sea. And his face was so charming it reminds him of the sculpture of the Elyssian gods he'd saw in the Blossom Isles.
The army stops. The young man get down the horse and walked to them. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Amarys' face lighted up.
And then, the man bowed.
It was a perfect bow. Elegant, and charming like his face, yet humble. There's only one problem with it.
It was not for his sister.
Daenerys' faint smile stiffened for a mere second. Then, she returned into a proud queen she was.
"My queen," The man get up from the bow he gave to Freya, and then, turn to Dany, giving her a small nod.
"Queen Daenerys." His voice was calm and, if he's not mistaken, hidden with a small glimpse of sarcasm.
"Aemys." His eldest cousin smiled and get down her horse. They share an embrace for a moment.
"Your hair grew."
"And so does yours." Aemys smiled back. His blue eyes were filled with sparkles.
Such a different treating from his sister's.
"Daenerys." The Queen of Gryffonsdale turned towards her.
"This is Aemys Blackfyre. Prince of Gryffonsdale, Master of Whispers, and my cousin."
"Pleasure to meet, prince Aemys." The silver-haired queen nodded back.
He just gave her a faint smile, then turned back to Freya.
"Shall we get going, then?"
She furrowed her dark brows, then nodded.
"If our army is ready to do so."
"Are you kidding?" He raised his eyebrows. "We're always ready."
Aemys walked back to his horse and hurled himself up. His hands took a firmly grip on the leather reins.
"Let us march, soldiers." He said to his men. "The dead won't take a break."
