After Lady Laena's funeral, Aemond had tried to claim Vhagar, only to be caught by you, his horrid cousin, the eldest child of Daemon from Rhea Royce. You'd stopped him, telling him off. So what if it was a funeral? Vhagar was right there, riderless!

But his chance was gone. The only plus side was that Aemond got to watch Rhaena be rejected by her mother's dragon.

Yet still, he and you, and now Rhaena, remained dragonless. So after the funeral, by the convictions of his mother and Daemon (done separately, of course), the King had them stop at Dragonstone, allowing the three children a chance to claim any dragons there.

Rhaena got no dragon, but an egg had hatched for her when she was given a new one. Aemond had sneered, knowing he was about to claim a big dragon. He could feel it in his bones.

And he did. Aemond at only ten had claimed the Bronze Fury, the dragon of the Old King Jaehaerys. Vermithor was a beauty, fierce, and big. That first flight lived on in his dreams for years after. He'd landed his new mount, proud and smug. Until you landed your mount.

Silverwing, the dragon of Queen Alysanne, Jaehaerys' wife, and the mate of Vermithor. His hated cousin now had a dragon equal to his own. And like that wasn't bad enough, his father saw it as a sign from the gods, declaring you two would be betrothed and married when you were grown. A day of joy turned sour with the knowledge he'd be stuck with his stupid cousin.

Years went by, and he grew. And then finally, the year came that the two of you would be wed. It didn't go as planned.

Aemond decided to go for a flight, Vermithor oddly energetic that day. He could barely control him as he swiftly flew out to sea. And then Aemond saw why.

You, atop Silverwing. It was like the dragons were deaf, landing on an island, ignoring their commands. Aemond watched in shock as they nuzzled each other.

"Vermithor!" He yelled, barely able to get off his mount. He glanced at you as the dragons began to... oh gods...mate. "Seven Hells." He curses.