Nine years had passed since Naerys had been taken as Alicent Hightowers ward. The girl was now seven and ten years of age and plenty of woman. Her childish features had gone away and in their place was a woman with full pink lips, serious violet eyes, long wavy silver hair, and a body men would kill to touch. In her years at Kings Landing, Naerys had blossomed into the perfect princess with impeccable embroidery skills, a talent for singing, and knowledge so vast.
All thanks to the Queen Alicent herself, she had blessed Naerys with the same opportunities as Halaena, all befitting the position of a Princess. Naerys had only seen her mother, Rhaenyra a handful of times since becoming the queens ward, not all visits were pleasant but nonetheless Naerys was thankful to see her siblings as they have grown.
Halaena wed Aegon seven years ago, when the gentle princess had finally had her blood. It was a beautiful wedding, but one not welcomed by the pair. Aegon had only gotten worse with his drinking, only visiting his wife when he was drunk and lonely. Though Halaena did not seem to mind as his visits had given her two beautiful twin children, the two-year-old twins. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.
Naerys had deemed that Halaena was a dreamer, her frequent mumbles of words that did not make sense, until they did, had confirmed this theory, but after the marriage to her brother, Halaena's madness only seemed to worsen, which Naerys did not paid attention to, still attending to her aunt with kindness.
Her grandsire, the King Viserys' health continued to worsen, his body decaying, leaving him bed ridden most days. The Queen and her father, the hand, Otto Hightower took to ruling the Seven Kingdoms, replacing the Targaryen banners with the color green. Naerys did not pay this much attention as politics were never her interest.
Instead, she spent most of her time in the skies with her dragon, Naraxes, who had grown to be almost as big as Vhagar, she credited this to begging Alicent to not cage her dragon, as he had free roaming privileges at Dragonstone, and locking him up in the keep's dragon pit would do more harm than good. Alicent wasn't sure why she granted this request but seeing as the princess was typically well behaved and her dragon as well, she thought she could grant the girl the one thing she asked for.
Rhaenyra had remarried shortly after Laenor's death, to her uncle, Daemon Targaryen, the news that shocked her, seemed to not shock anyone else. She soon heard stories of her mother's love affair with her new stepfather from her youth. Together the two had a set of twin boys, silver headed babes. Viserys II and Aegon III.
As for Aemond, he grew taller, leaner, more silver headed. At the age of twenty and one, the man proved to keep true to the words Naerys spoke on the boat the day they returned to Kings Landing, he did work twice as hard as the next person, becoming the best at everything he did. He was often out flying Vhagar, and when he was not doing that, he was in the training yard with Sir Criston Cole. It was said that Aemond was an opponent to be feared, and that he was. Though he had not seen real war, Aemond excelled in fighting, his childhood spite often motivating him. He spent his evenings studying, reading, learning all the histories and languages he could manage.
As Aemond and Naerys grew, they grew apart. Aemond was a silent boy as he grew, becoming spiteful and angry, Naerys did not know what she had done to anger the boy in their years together, but she quit trying to fix it after so many failed attempts.
In truth, Aemond had developed a crush on the Velaryon princess during their teenage years, knowing that he could never have her crushed his spirits and instead of choosing to long for something he could not have, he chose to push her away, only conversing in sarcasm and only when made.
Though Rhaenyra and her daughter hadn't seen each other in many years, she did write to her daughter frequently, even sending suitors for her hand, of course seeing as Naerys was the Queens ward, nothing would be approved without her consent.
Which is why Naerys was now strolling throughout the gardens with Lord Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. The King in the North. Lord Stark had come so far south for a chance at the beautiful princess' hand in betrothal at her mother's request. It was unexpected and the Queen was unprepared, causing the crown to look foolish, which Alicent was sure Rhaenyra did on purpose. It had been so long since the people of Winterfell had traveled so far south, which is why if Alicent had her way she would have been prepared with a large celebration.
Naerys knew she would not marry Lord Cregan Stark, but she thought him to be kind, chivalrous, and quite handsome, so she would not deny herself the pleasure of his company. Lord Stark was tall and lean but not the Targaryen lean, like her uncle Aemond, he was lean and muscular, like a man from the North should be. His head was full of chocolate curls and a light stubble grew across his chiseled jawline. His eyes kind and green.
As the two walked side by side, Naerys felt the lord's stare upon her face frequently, sometimes dropping to her body, "I must say, princess, while this weather is beautiful, it does not compare to the glistening snow in the North." Lord Stark walked with his hands folded behind his back, the clinging of his sword ringing ever so slightly. The princess smiled at him, chuckling softly, "I can't say I would know, my lord, I've never been further than Driftmark." Naerys replied, holding a soft smile on her lips.
"Then you shall come visit, perhaps that dragon of yours could offer us some assistance and light a fire for us." the man offered, joking about her dragon.
"We shall see, I'm not sure how well a dragon would fare in the brutal winters of the North." replied the princess, she would never take herself or her dragon so far North.
The two took a left and ended up crossing the training yard, where Aemond and Criston Cole stood sparring in a match, Naerys sucked in a breath of air, hoping to avoid Aemond and his foul attitude, but Cregan had other plans, he reached out and grabbed Naerys by her bicep, stopping her in her tracks, she had almost forgotten the act she was playing and nearly told him off, her gaze looked down to his hand on her arm, then back to his face, "Is something wrong my lord?" Naerys questioned, smiling at him, even though she was irate.
"I'm sorry to stop our stroll, princess, but it's been ages since I've seen a good spar, let alone participated in one, do you mind if we watch?" Cregan said releasing her arm but instead grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the crowd of spectators, "Fuck," she muttered under her breath.
Aemond, although engrossed in his fight with Criston, had noticed her the moment she was in range, noticing more, how the northern man had grabbed her arm, and how she had narrowed her eyes at him, he swung his sword more fiercely, knowing that he had an audience worth showing off to now.
Cregan was a man of pride, most men in the North were, he was a good man, and she knew that, but she couldn't stop herself from being irritated at how close the lord stood to her, as if he were claiming her from all wondering eyes.
Sir Criston Cole swung his weapon at Aemond, almost hitting him in the face, but Aemond had ducked and twirled around knocking his weapon away with his sword, Aemond danced like a snake ready to strike, too fast to be caught or seen. The heavy clanging of the metals was silenced in Naerys' ears as she held her breath as Cole swung at Aemond once more.
Aemond knocked Cole backwards, stepping forward before swinging again, Cole's weapon of choice hit the ground and he was held at the end of Aemond's sword. Criston smiled, "Well done, my prince, you'll be winning tourneys in no time." Criston spoke with pride.
"I don't give a shit about tourneys." Aemond replied, staring straight at Cole who did nothing but bow his head, "Niece, skoros maghagon ao se naejot urnēbagon?"(Niece, what brings you and the wildling to watch?)" Aemond said without looking away from the sworn protector of his mother.
Naerys inhaled a sharp breath, thankful that Aemond had chosen to insult the man in a language he did not know, "Ziry jeldan naejot ūndegon nykeā sȳz vīlībagon. Nyke ivestretan zirȳla ziry'd find mirre kesīr."(He said he wished to see a good fight; I told him he'd find none here.) Naerys spoke back to her uncle, jesting him ever so slightly but with a smile on her face, so the lord who was holding her would think nothing of the exchange.
Aemond narrowed his eye at the young woman, his gaze glancing to how close the man was standing to his niece, "Are you interested in sparring?"Aemond said with a slight smirk, hoping the fool would take his bait.
"Aemond." Naerys warned, but it was no use, two men full of testosterone were no match for the woman, " Ao daor jaelagon naejot ūndegon lo aōha valzȳrys sagon able naejot mīsagon ao, se jēda māzigon?" (Surely, you would like to know if your future husband can protect you should the time come?)
"Iksos bona daor skoros issa zaldrīzes iksos syt?"(Is that not what my dragon is for?" Naerys hissed at him. Cregan, caught on that this discussion was not friendly, but he would not back away from a challenge. He was not King in the North for no reason.
"Ah, I would very much like to spar, if you would have me Prince Aegon, it's been years since I had a worthy opponent." Cregan declared, Aemond narrowed his eyes at the lord who purposely called him the wrong name, "Aemond, my lord." Naerys whispered into his ear, "Is that not what I said? My apologies, Prince Aemond, the Targaryen names often get lost on me, with how frequently they repeat, and how similar they sound." Cregan pretended to act clueless.
"My Lord, I don't think this is a good idea." Naerys repeated herself, only to be brushed off by the cocky lord, she tried to ignore his disrespect for the Targaryen traditions.
"You're a woman, I wouldn't expect you to understand friendly sparring between two men, my princess." Cregan joked, " Longsword?" he asked Aemond, Aemond simply raised his eyebrows at the man, not really caring what weapon he chooses, he knew he would have him in the dirt in no time for the disrespect he has shown both his niece and the traditions of his house.
Naerys stood back, no longer begging the man to stop, she did however look at Aemond, a look of agreement understood, " Maghagon zirȳla naejot zȳhon." (Bring him to his knees.) Naerys commanded, and Aemond did not have to be told twice, whatever Naerys wants, he would deliver.
Cregan approached Aemond with his sword, his footsteps sloppy and rushed, he charged towards Aemond who swiped his feet out from underneath him and swung his sword, the fight could have easily been over then, but Aemond was not done yet. Cregan Stark would learn how a Targaryen fights, with fire and blood.
Aemond swung again, only to be blocked by the opponent's sword and pushed backwards, Cregan struck a blow to Aemond's ribs with the hilt of his sword, Naerys gasped wanting to step forward and stop this nonsense but could not, Aemond smirked standing up once more before delivering several forceful blows, sending the young lord backwards and onto the ground. Aemond pointed his sword as the man's neck, "Do you yield?" he asked, the lord did not answer, only reaching his hand towards the fallen sword to his left, Aemond stepped on his wrist, lightly applying pressure, until the proud wolf cracked, "Do. You. Yield?" he repeated himself once more.
"I yield." Cregan panted, shoving Aemond off of him. Aemond smirked, "That was fun Lord Stark, we should do that again soon." He shouted towards the man as he stalked off to wherever, tossing his sword to the squire.
Cregan Stark stood up, wounded but only in his pride, Naerys rushed to his side offering to dust him off, "My Lord, are you okay?" Naerys asked, not truly caring. Cregan pushed her away, anger apparent in his eyes, but softening once he realized he had shoved a woman.
Naerys kept her hands to herself but remained where she stood, "I'm fine Princess. I suppose my ego is a little wounded, I think I shall go wash up before dinner. Excuse me." Cregan said softly before bowing to her and stalking off the opposite direction from which they came.
Naerys was left alone, her beautiful silk dress no longer a proper shade of emerald but now a stained black thanks to the mud of the training yard, she glanced around looking at the crowd of spectators who started to disperse. Her eyes wondered to the upper levels, where some stood to watch spars, her eyes catching a familiar silver headed man with a singular eye, smirking at her from above. Her eyes narrowed and before she knew it her feet were carrying her towards the steps and to her uncle.
Aemond watched her rather angry steps as she headed towards the tower which contained the steps, instead of letting her walk all the way to him, he decided to meet her in the stairwell, standing at the top of the stairs.
She barreled through the door but remained at the bottom of the steps, her head craned up looking at him with narrowed violet eyes. Though she was angry, she looked beautiful to him, the dirty dress she wore had sleeves that hung off her shoulders, revealing her smooth and voluptuous chest, and even the scar she was gifted from her younger brother was fond to him. It was long and it should have been ugly, but the angry raised skin was a reminder of their shared attack. Her wavy hair reached her lower back, but the front pieces were pulled back in intricate braids, almost like his.
"I should pull that stupid eye patch off your face and choke you with it." Naerys threatened, Aemond snickered, "Why is that niece?" he mused, "You do this every time. Are you wishing I end up an old shriveled up maid?" She spat at him, beginning to walk up the stairs, Aemond decided to meet her halfway, "Oh please, you do not wish to marry them anyway." He rolled his one eye finally meeting his niece halfway. He did not care if she ended up an old maid, because she would be with him, even if they never spoke again. They stood with less than a foot between them, "You don't know that." Naerys declared.
"I know that you would not be happy in the North, nor would Naraxes, they are foul people with even fouler weather." Aemond reached a hand out and picked up a piece of her hair, rubbing it in between his fingers, without ever looking at her directly. Naerys kept her glare at his face
"You wouldn't know that though, would you uncle? For you have shunned me and kept me away all these years, only coming around to spite me." Naerys knocked his hand off of her hair, taking a step back.
"I have not shunned you niece, believe me when I say I pay more attention to you than I do most." Aemond stated, stepping forward to reclaim the space Naerys had put in between the two. "You say that, but you ignore me, and say harmful things, we used to be friends, what happened uncle?" Naerys' words softened towards the end as she reached out towards Aemond, ready to grab his hands. Aemond took a step back, withdrawing from her reach before stepping around his niece, giving her a pitiful stare as he descended down the stairs.
"This is easier." was all he said as he exited the tower.
Naerys was once again left alone, only then did she shout, "Easier how? You bastard!" her anger flowing through every part of her body, and though Aemond heard her screams of anguish as he continued walking away, he did not turn around, out of fear he might do something he regrets.