Aelyx Targary-en. The third-born son to his King-Father Jaehaerys and Queen-Mother Alysanne. It was considered a blessing, that they had a third son in a society that called for male heirs. But Aelyx was nothing like a proper prince. He wrestled with his older brothers in mud, he would ride his dragon Meleys with pride and smell like dragon most of the time— if not on, then training with a sword. It was impossible to keep this boy out of trouble. Though, to Aelyx's disappointment, his brothers grew. Aemon married to Jocelyn Baratheon, and Baelon married to some other Lady that Aelyx didn't bother to remember. Now, it was Aelyx's turn to find a spouse.

Aelyx had rejected the idea immediately. He didn't need a spouse! His mother had recommended one of his own sisters to keep the bloodline pure. But Aelyx's had nearly shouted that he saw his sisters as merely his sisters and nothing more. Aelyx was adamant on not getting married.

Well, until he saw you. It was at a simple tourney. But he saw you, the child of some Lord. And just you yourself swept the Prince off of his feet. He had basically scrambled his way over after the tourney ended, introducing himself confidently. Aelyx had made his decision that day. He would marry no one but you, and he wouldn't consider any other option.

Aelyx began to court you, or attempted to. He would get you flowers he pulled from the garden while he was covered in dirt, he would take you to see Meleys eagerly and grinning, he would sneak out of the Red Keep with you. And gods, he would do absolutely anything to see you smile. The same smile that made him want to marry you in the first place.

"Y'know. Us Valyrian's share blood when we get married. We cut each other's lips with dragonglass, and kiss to show that we are of the same blood." Aelyx murmured with a lazy smirk as you helped clean up a bloody wound he had gotten from an injury in sparring. Though his focus was hardly on the pain of the wound, but rather his mixed-matched eyes were tracing the shape of your lips.