CHAPTER SIX

DAEMERYS descended the cobblestone stairs with her brothers behind her, they watched with intrigue as people fought each other with wooden swords.

"Smaller than I remember", Lucerys voiced.

"It looks exactly the same", Jace seemed excited about being there, Daemerys simply remained void — not much pleased her these days, especially in this place she called hell.

The three walked along, people stopping to stare at them. Luke looked down at his feet, Jace stood taller and head held high whereas their sister glared — making a lot of them look away in fright.

"See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston's morningstar. And you almost took your own head off", Lucerys looked to where Jace was tapping, the wall had a carve in it, Daemerys wasn't looking.

Something else had caught her eye. A sharp blade, it reminded her of the one she had that night.

Jace looked to his brother who wore a frown, "What's your problem?".

"Everyone's staring at us".

Jacaerys didn't take the matter seriously and whipped a blade out, pointing it at his brother with a chuckle.

"Let them", Daemerys spoke, eyes still on the blade.

A closed eye will open the other to possibilities.

The woman sighed at the voice in her head, shaking it off and turning to the boys talking, "No one would question me being heir to Driftmark... if... I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong".

Jace stopped at that, putting the blade down and talking discreetly to the boy, "It doesn't matter what they think".

Lucerys looked at his brother silently for a moment, Daemerys coming behind him to hold his shoulders in comfort before their attention drifted towards a crash followed by cheering.

Jacaerys was the first to move towards the crowd, tapping his brother to join him. The boys gathered and watched as their Uncle fought with Ser Criston — taking blow after blow.

Daemerys stalked off, a rare batch of white roses were dug into the ground by the gate, growing sideways like they were dying.

"Well done, my prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time", Criston compliments when Aemond defeated him.

"I don't give a shit about tourneys. Nephews... have you come to train?", Aemonds good eye turns to them, making them gulp.

Taking a rose and holding it to her nose, she hears her name being called.

"Daem!", Jace calls and the circle of people move to glance towards the girl that then turns around.

Aemond almost feels the breath being knocked from him, it was her. The girl... woman who took his eye but couldn't stop dreaming about.

Daemerys walked towards her brother, not seeing Aemond. "Mm?".

"Our uncle wants to train", his eyebrows rose in a silent conversation.

Daemerys then looked at him. He looked different. But of course it had been six years. The scar she gave him sat nicely on his face making her smirk. He of course noticed her stare and anger flashed in his eye.

"Oh does he? Very well", the woman clipped her cloak of and folded it neatly in her brothers arms, placing her new found rose on top carefully before stalking towards Ser Criston.

The man watched as she took the sword from his waist easily with angry eyes. "Battle is no place for a lady like you", he said, trying to be nice.

"It's a good thing I'm a bastard then and not a lady", she drawled, Aemonds eyebrows raising in amusement. "Let's have at it then, been dreaming of taking that other eye since I took your first".

Aemond snarled at her for that one. She'd admit that was mean but she'd never turn down a fight.

He was predictable, charging for her first. She moved swiftly, missing the blow coming her way and hit the blunt side of her sword into his back — making him stagger forward. "Hmm", he hummed, turning around to see the smug look on her face.

"You underestimate me", she twirled the sword in her hand, her brothers watching with matching smiles, "That's okay, many do".

She struck first this time, the blade inches from his face when he hit back. The two dancing around each other, heavy breathing in place as struck after struck made their arms grow weaker. People watched, a further crowd growing but neither noticed — eyes only on each other.

"The scar looks nice, wonder who gave it to you".

"Oh just a raging bitch", Aemond bit but she merely smirked because it was true.

Daemerys had been going easy on him, but enough was enough — she was growing bored. Her foot came up to kick him stomach, his body stumbling back in shock, he went to struck when he regained himself but she moved under his arm and kicked his back, sending him straight to the floor.

Dirt wafted into his face as he landed with a hoof just like he had done that night, he spun around on his back to see her looming down on him, sword inches from his good eye.

"You fight like a girl", he hummed, staring her down but she smiled sarcastically.

"Still makes me a better fighter than you".

A horn disrupted their stare off, Aemond got up and dusted himself off. Daemerys chucked the sword onto the floor and turned to the prince, their faces close as everyone else watched the gates open.

Aemond watched as her eyes trailed his scar and patch, she held no regret that was for sure but he hadn't minded — he didn't then and he didn't now.

"Pretty", she mumbled with pursed lips, Aemond watching her carefully — trying to make the butterflies in his stomach go away.

She looked away from him not before patting his chest with a, "Good fight", and drifted off to stand next to her brothers who watched the Velaryon's enter.

Daemerys eyes turned to slits at the sight of Vaemond — the cunt she'd thought, walking through like he owned the place. Luke turned to watch them go, looking up at his sister with a worried look.

"You have nothing to fear, I will sort it", she cupped his face and kissed his forehead, making him feel better knowing he can trust her. "Come, let's go", she took the youngest under her arm and steered him inside, Jace following — not know a certain prince was watching her leave with a soft gaze.

─────

Night came quick after that, Daemerys sat in the tub at her chambers as the rain poured and thunder crackled. She watched the rain in peace, candles being her only source of light.

She kept thinking back to Aemond and the threat that hawked over her family like a crow — it chipping away at everything they had fought so hard to prove.

Daemerys knew who the boys were just like she knew who she was. The only difference is that nobody cared about her because she was just a bastard her father picked up on his way in travel, Jace, Luke and Joffrey were Rhaenyra Targaryen's born children, from her very womb. That difference mattered.

Her door opening made her sit up quickly, heavy boots clicking on the floor. Taking her robe and blade, she wrapped herself up and hid behind the wall, water dripping on the floor quietly.

As the intruder stepped into her bathing room, she slid behind them and held the knife to their throat, "It's just me", a deep voice groaned from the woman gripping their hair back painfully.

"Aemond?", she let go and he turned to face her with an amused look. "What the fuck".

"Not very lady like", he snickered as his eye took her in, her damp hair and wet glistening body — he got hard right there and then.

"What are you doing in here? Got lost?", Daemerys scolded as she ignored the look he gave her. She didn't hide away, she was confident in her body, he could look if he wanted to.

Walking away from him, into her bedroom, Aemond followed. "I just wanted to speak with you".

That made her turn, a brush in hand as she brushed her hair back. She looked bored. "About?".

That seemed to throw him, he didn't exactly know what he wanted to speak about. His legs sort of led him there.

"About Vaemond", he thought quickly for a moment. "He will declare war if Lucerys is claimed Lord Corlys successor".

"I won't let anything happen to my brother".

Aemond admired her courage, it was a shame she was a bitch. "You should think of something before it's too late".

"What do you propose I do? Kill him before tomorrow because I'd happily do so".

"You've changed".

Those words seemed to startle her, her back straightening and face turning cold, "A lot can happen in six years".

"No. You're meaner, colder, not the same girl who took my eye".

Daemerys stood in place and he stalked closer to her, his gaze holding her in place, "I merely turned into what people wanted me to be. A bastard. Last time I checked bastards weren't sunshine's and rainbows".

Aemond hummed at that, eyeing her closely, "You need to propose something in return for Lucerys being claimed lord of Driftmark. If that is what you truly want, I trust you to handle the rest".

The woman looked at him confused, "Why are you telling me this?".

Aemond didn't say anything, just looked at her. What took her by surprise was his hand lifting up to stroke her rosy cheek, brushing a strand of hair away.

"Why are you not angry with me?", she voiced looking up at his scar, she wanted to touch it but knew better.

"How could I ever be angry with you?", his voice was soft.

And with he left, leaving her completely and utterly breathless and confused but she knew what she had to do now.