Two sides of the same coin. Aemond was sneaky and sassy and totally generous when it came to another verbal stab in the back at Rhaenyra's brat's, who were bastards. You, on the other hand, were nothing like your mother or Helena, kept close to Aemond at all times.

Even in the first few months of your birth, it was confirmed that your union would become official after a certain age. It was frightening at first, very frightening, but you soon turned against the world around the prince. After the incident where Rhaenyra's brat's took his eye, the young prince's honor was hurt as well as a drop of respect for these men.

It's strange to feel at peace in the company of a bride-to-be when you were kindly looking after him the day after he lost his eye, when you sang him some inane songs - a strange attraction. Once he found out what was going on in your head, he melted like bloody snow. The man and you had too many things in common to make it seem like a happy accident.

The wedding, as befitted the occasion, took place.

A strange possessive side opened up in him as soon as he gained control - of someone he could control. His slender fingers touched your waist, and pressed your back against his chest with intensity. "Those noble sires are unceremoniously sniffing at you with their eyes." Displeasure, a quiet whisper. "There's a tournament coming up, have you woven a wreath for me yet, sweetheart?" Surely this is the perfect chance to show his uncle, Daemon, that he is the weak link in the Targaryen family tree. The prince's thin lips traced the line of your cheekbones, whispering softly. "No doubt about it, right?"