CHAPTER TWELVE

THE NEXT MORNING, Daemerys woke up with a smile. A rare and happy one and she knew why. Things had changed, she felt it and yes it was unexpected but she couldn't find it in herself to hate it.

She had hated Aemond for a long time, she didn't want to betroth him — she only did what was right for her family but now she felt an odd sense of peace.

Beware the beast beneath the boards.

Awake the dragon for your revenge.

A closed eye will open the other to possibilities.

One son must fall for the dragons to dance.

Her stomach began to churn as the voices in her chambers grew louder, shoving the covers from her body and running into the bathing room and vomiting into the bucket on the floor.

Ser Criston, who had heard her feet padding quickly on the floor from outside her door, knocked on it to check on her.

"My lady?", he waited for a response but gained nothing but a painful groan. His sword was removed instantly as he opened her chamber door, stumbling in until he found her on the floor puking into a wooden bucket. "Oh, my lady".

He put his sword away and bent down to gather her hair behind her back, keeping it from her sickness. He used his free hand to rub her back as she groaned.

"Tis just the voices, they aren't so kind", she whispered and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She felt completely embarrassed.

Criston nodded, trying to be understanding but he didn't know why she heard voices but he was sympathetic. It was times like these he hated himself for the hateful things he had called her.

"Should I get the Prince, my lady?", he asked, continuing his soothing.

Daemerys scoffed and turned to him, "Enough with the formalities, Ser Criston. I'm a bastard, no lady", she watched as he nodded but his eyes drifted to the floor in shame. "But to answer your question, no. I do not need Aemond coming to my aid".

"Of course, my-", he stopped at her pointed look, "Daemerys". She nodded once satisfied with his response and got up, himself now realising she was only wearing her night gown and looked away.

"That will be all, thank you, Ser Criston", the man nodded with his back still toward her and walked out her chambers — closing the door behind him.

Aemond had been walking past when he saw the Knight leave his betrotheds room and raised an eyebrow. Criston bowed his head but stopped the Prince quickly when he tried to enter.

"Daemerys is not ready, my Prince", Aemond huffed and settled back. His mother had told him that the woman denied maids, her words being, "I am more than capable of readying myself". Classic Daemerys, he thought.

Daemerys settled into a dark blue dress and tidied her hair before exiting her chambers to find Aemond waiting for her, her favourite colour was blue and he knew that.

His eye took her in with satisfaction as he fought the urge to fiddle with his eye patch — knowing what rested behind it.

"Good morning, Daemerys. May I accompany you to dine with me?", he outstretched his arm, a small smirk on his lips at the look on her face.

Daemerys blinked at him for a moment until Criston nudged her shortly, "Oh, um yes. Lead the way, my Prince", she spluttered under a blushing mess and took his outstretched arm.

She looked back when Aemond began leading the way and gave a silent look to her Knight to follow them, which he did immediately.

For some odd reason, she began trusting the man that was out for her since the moment her father brought her to court. She didn't trust people easily and remembered when she was a child and the hurtful things she was called but she was a woman now and she learned to embrace it.

It had been a few days since her family had left, she was writing a letter but she didn't quite know what to say. She wanted to go home, but the other part of her wanted to stay with Aemond — if you had told her that she felt this way when she first arrived she'd have stabbed you there and then for the lies.

The thought of what she felt for Aemond and what they had done rested on her mind. She was losing her wit around him, lowering her guard and she didn't know how to feel about that.

Daemerys still felt hostility toward the prince — one kiss wasn't going to tarnish everything that had happened but it was a start. Aemond was making an effort for this betrothal, so why shouldn't she?

"Daemerys! How wonderful to see you", Alicent beamed, a fake smile coating her lips as her eye twitched at seeing the close proximity between her son and the woman.

Daemerys bowed her head with a small smile and let go of Aemond, "And you, my Queen", she spoke politely and sat in the seat next to Helaena and Aemond — opposite Aegon and the Queen. Viserys was equipped to his bed as per usual and the five of them dined together in silence.

Criston kept his eye forward but still had Daemerys in eye-view in case something were to happen. He noticed her shift in her seat and took a quick peak — seeing Aegon stare at her hungrily. Though she was saved when Aemond glared at his older brother and he seemingly backed off.

Daemerys looked to Aemond and smiled in thanks, he patted her hand before turning back to his untouched milk and oats — moving the lumpy meal around in his bowl with an unsatisfied look on his face.

"How are you settling in, Daemerys?", Alicent piped up after too long of silence. She had no real interest as she was hoping the woman wouldn't be staying too long now she was planning to get the betrothal abolished.

The woman in question put her spoon down and cleared her throat, "Very well. Thank you for your kind hospitality, my Queen".

Alicent smiled politely and went back to her meal, Aemond looked down at his betrothed with a raised eyebrow — she was never this polite. He hid back a smirk when she rolled her eyes at him.

After many more awkward silences, Alicent stood and left followed by Aegon and Helaena. Daemerys went to stand but Aemond held her back with a soft grip on her wrist. "Will you come to the library tonight?", he asked and she blushed — making him smirk.

"I might", she leaned down to kiss his cheek, right on his scar before walking around the table and to Ser Criston who followed her out the door — leaving Aemond in his own blushing mess.

"May I speak hushly, Daemerys?", Criston asked as they walked through the hall and towards the gardens.

Daemerys frowned and turned her head to look at him, "You do not need permission to do anything around me, Ser Criston. You're not my hostage", she placed a kind hand on his armoured shoulder before walking out towards the gardens.

Criston smiled kindly at her before speaking, "I fear that something terrible is going to happen", they both stopped at the flowers — nobody else was around.

"How do you mean?", she asked as she fiddled with the flowers — paying more attention to the blue ones.

"The Queen", that had got her attention. Daemerys turned to face her knight and looked at him confused but he bowed his head, "I fear that she may be planning something. As her sworn protector I shouldn't be telling you this but...".

"But?".

"I've grown quite fond of you, as your knight and perhaps a friend. So I feel as though it is my duty to express how I feel".

Daemerys frowned and nodded, "Of course you're my friend, Ser Criston. Thank you for telling me, but I'm sure there is nothing to worry about", she spoke softly but when he looked back up at her, she could tell that both of them didn't really believe her words.

The woman didn't know what to make of Ser Cole's words, the thought of the Queen conspiring against her set an odd sense of betrayal through her — she debated for a long time whether to send a raven to her mother but decided against it in case the raven never made it due to other reasons.

Alicent had been playing the game for a long time, she knew that so if she were to find anything out before the Queen could do anything then that would work in her favour — but not much was in her favour these days.

Aemond strode down the steps towards the courtyard where Ser Criston stood before him, sword at the ready. As if it were some sort of tradition, ladies and lords, stable boys and maids gathered around to watch, like they did every morning, hoping to catch Ser Criston Cole and the One Eyed Prince spar on the dirt covered floor.

Daemerys looked up from the gardens when she heard swords clashing and loud cheers — picking up her dress, she followed the noise to see Aemond and Criston fighting just like they had been when she first arrived after all those years.

The sound of steel swords clanging together lasted for ages, neither man giving up. Aemond saw Daemerys within the crowd and almost froze up. His shield was smashed by Ser Criston's sword — sending the Prince stumbling back before catching himself and straightened his back. At the loss of his defense, throwing the shield to the floor and holding his sword tighter, Aemond charges.

Daemerys raises an eyebrow, the Prince clashes and slashes while Ser Criston narrowly dodges all the blows toward him. Aemond is slower today, Criston could tell as he watched the Prince keep looking over to Daemerys — he was showing off, of course.

She noticed as well and stepped forward to get a closer look, remembering how she beat him which sent a smirk onto her face. Perhaps by her moving forward would make Aemond not fight his best, and she was soon proven right when Criston manages to put his palm on Aemond's chest and shove him to the ground.

With a thud, Aemond lands on his back by his betrothed's feet, a sickly sweet smile on her face but she only received a harsh glare in return. Ser Criston pointed his sword to the Prince's face when he tried to get up before sighing in defeat — taking the Knight's hand and stood to his feet.

"I yield", he muttered but despite the Aemond's defeat, the crowd showered him with a scattered applause which had Daemerys covering her ears with a roll of her eyes — give me a break.

When the fight came to an end, so did the applause. Servants began scurrying back to their duties and blushing ladies headed back to the gardens of the Keep — though some fawning ladies and lords chose to stay to discuss their admiration of the fight.

Ser Cole noticed the Prince's frown as he watched Daemerys admire some laid down swords, "You should not feel discouraged by the loss, my Prince. You fought well".

Aemond turned from Daemerys to the knight, "I do not feel discouraged", he sounded offended but Criston merely smiled for a moment.

"Perhaps, but you are distracted", Aemond watched the knight point toward the lady of his desires. His eye watched the woman pick up a sword and swing it around — she was good.

"Hmm", he hummed before sauntering off toward her, "Wife".

Daemerys groaned in annoyance, yet her heart picked up at his voice, "I am not your wife". She turned to see his dusty leather tunic from where he lost his fight, her eyes met his as he held a smirk. Despite the kiss they shared, she still felt displeased by his presence — and that ridiculous smirk he always seemed to have.

"Yet".

Her eyes drifted to a small cut on his face, "You're hurt". She watched as Aemond's smirk fell and was replaced with a frown before his hand came to brush his face where the cut was, his hand coming level to his eye where a small drop of blood was.

"I'll live", he brushed it off like he did with everything but Daemerys was stubborn so she took his hand and guided him to the Keep. She could feel his curiosity and sly smirk grow until they came to the door of her chambers.

They entered quickly from prying eyes, he takes a seat on a chair by the fireplace, while Daemerys wandered around her chambers, receiving a small kit that she kept under her bed — Lord Corlys had told her to always keep small supplies in her chambers when she began sword fighting and it came in handy when she didn't want to alert her mother and father of scrapes and bruises.

I must say," Aemond starts, looking at Daemerys when she came closer to him. "I'm rather confused by this nice gesture, Daemerys". If he were being honest, he rather expected her to ignore his earlier proposal of coming back to the library that night and she go back to how they were but she didn't.

"Forgive me for wanting to be the reason you lose your good eye instead of a silly infection caused by some dirt", Aemond chuckled at that, there she was.

Daemerys, however, didn't find it amusing and began wiping the cut by his eye gently — a hiss coming from the Prince's mouth. "Idiot".

"You wound me, my love", Daemerys huffed and shook her head at his attempt to look hurt by her words but she knew he found it amusing, he always had.

His breath fanned over her face when she leaned closer to take a better look at the cut, he'd live, unfortunately. Aemond watched her carefully, eye soft and chest heaving — he hated how he reacted to the smell of her, the blush that coated her cheeks due to their close proximity and the pinkness of her lips that she wetted in concentration.

A growl left his mouth causing Daemerys look at him alarmed but was pushed back when his hands grabbed at her waist and lips met hers — Aemond stood and held her. The woman dropped the material she was using to wipe the blood from his eye, it falling to the floor as her hands came up to cup his face.

Aemond kissed her hungrily, like he had been starved of her his whole life — their breathing picked up, their bodies moving until her back hit a wall, making her gasp. "We have to stop", her words were muffled by their lips but he understood and it took everything in him to pull away.

But when he did he sighed, "You're so beautiful", he cupped her face, the blushing mess of her cheeks being hidden from his large, rough hands. "And all mine".

He let go of her face and took a few steps back, her eyes were wide with admiration, to him she looked so perfect, "My love", he bowed his head with a usual smirk before exiting her chambers — leaving her in a mess, lips red, cheeks pink and breathing — non existent.