( Once, she would have been repulsed by such an idea, but it settles on her differently now as she entertains it. Bottom lip jutting out slightly as they pull down slightly in thought. Three days if pressed and four if flying comfortably.
It is appealing, and she would be a liar to say otherwise. Such a trip would save the crown money in the end. The journey to and from would take eight days, leaving more time for them to spend in Oldtown or anywhere along the way versus the two moons long trip it would have taken by carriage.
Her hands shift from her lap, palms pressed against the table, and fingers curling under the edge. Her shoulders back, chest pushed out, and rises with each breath.
The only downfall ( if she dares even to call it that ) is that they would be alone, without anyone to guard them. While she knows he is skilled with a sword and Vhagar is a deterrent in and of herself, there are still those who would be foolish to attempt something if they know the queen and the young prince are traveling alone โ it would be a handsome ransom. It is risky, perhaps too risky.
She cannot remember the last time she went anywhere without the royal guard, and yet she can't stop herself from reveling in the thought of being utterly alone with him. )
While I am not as skilled or knowledgeable as you and your sibling are regarding dragons, I know your saddle is made for one. This means, whether for the trip to Oldtown or flying with you regularly, I would either need to sit in your lap, or you'd be pressed against the pommel with me behind you.
There is also the matter of my lack of proper riding โ flying attire and being unaccustomed, as you said.
[ He is staring respectfully, but must she sit like that? Aemond's index finger digs at the groove in the armrest of his chair. Still listening as she rebuffs the idea in her own words. Would appear as attentive as ever, though his attention threatens to divest him elsewhere.
It's not that small of a saddle, he would argue. She could fit it. For long durations, he hadn't thought about it in too much a detail. Nor would he seem to mind the thought of being pressed up against her for such a time. Though those thoughts are too strangled in his mind. It was a laborious idea, which is why he only meant to mention it to make a point among the lords. But one ride with her, at least. If not to Oldtown, perhaps somewhere closer.
Aemond's gaze falls and he swallows dry before speaking. ]
There is still time to accustom you. [ He notes as though it were a new suggestion. Playful, but so very subtle as though it got ahead of himself. He looks away briefly, chipping off a splinter of wood with his nail before flicking it away as he wets his lips. Recovering himself to speak more amicably. ]
We can still meet with her this afternoon, if you're not already engaged.
Edited (some text got eaten up ) 2023-01-25 03:03 (UTC)
( When was the last time he was so fervently insistent about something? She recalls how desperate he was for a dragon of his own, often sneaking into the depths of the Dragonpit with an inkling of hope only to be chased out with fear clinging to him. As terrified as she was for his safety and wellbeing, she never blamed him for wanting one of his own โ to belong and be part of something, like his brother and nephews.
But after that โ what held his interest so? Was there anything other than Vhagar and flying? There were his studies and training, but that all felt like it pales compared to his newfound desire to get her to ride with him.
She remains silent for a long moment, noting his voice's playfulness and how he idly picks at the chair. In an idleness of her own, Alicen't fingers drum against the underside of the table. )
This afternoon and evening are free of engagements, ( she finally says. ) I thought to relax in the baths at some point, but that can wait until we return.
( Playfully, she bumps her leg against his before beginning to push herself away from the table. ) Suppose I should ready myself. Shall we meet there or arrive together?
[ Aemond thinks she'll understand when she finally commits to it. In spite of his foolish honesty mumbled underneath her bedsheets, it is something he still wishes to share with her. An indescribable feeling that has latched to him since he was a small boy. She has indulged him in the idea this far. Knowing how fleeting her interests have been before, this time feels a bit different. His only wish is that she wasn't indulging him out of guilt or pity.
Her answer comes slow, but when it does Aemond's expression softens just so. As she moves, so does he. Brushing back his chair so that he may too rise to his feet.]
I don't mind waiting. [ He answers as he steps around his chair, hands smoothing and straightening his coat by it's bottom hem. Waiting beside to depart with her at last.
It's easier this way, nor is he in any particular rush to make it to the Dragonpit on this day. The attendance of the council and the preparations beforehand have uprooted whatever normalcy there was. Unnatural as it is, he doesn't seem to mind it. Nor would the prospect of more time spent together, as strange as it already were.]
( None of what she does is out of guilt or pity, even if she suffers from pangs of those emotions โ her wishful desire to be with him and share in what he enjoys drives her.
With him standing beside her, Alicent gently places her hand in the crook of his elbow, her fingers pressing into the fabric of his coat, sinking into the plush fabric. The thought of lingering here together dances in the forefront of her imagination, of him pressing her against the table, mouth hungry against hers, or even him sitting in the chair at the head of the table, kneeling between his legs, or sitting on his lap. But she does not allow the temptation to linger long, as they have plans to head to the Dragonpit, and with each passing second, they are losing light. )
If you are free and do not have business to attend, care to walk me to my chambers?
I will ready myself then meet you in the middle bailey, ( she starts, then looks up at him before adding, ) unless you wish to stay.
( There are a few places she knows she'll be able to find suitable riding ware, as she owns none. Preferably she would like to start the abandoned apartments of the princess as she likely left things behind for the rare occasion she visits before asking Helaena or Talya for assistance. )
[ An innocent touch, wracked with temptations. Without knowing, her thoughts had mirrored his own as he struggled to remain composed throughout their meeting. Makes no obvious protest to escorting her this way, it's as if they've always done. If there were anything pertinent in his day, it wasn't pressing enough for him to deny her the escort.
Aemond's hand pauses at the door to meet her look as she implies him to stay while she gets ready. Wavering on a thought most imprudent as he thinks of the way she'd looked as she shed her gown. A thought that is quickly brushed away.]
I don't mind. Though โ [ He pauses, as though trying to filter through the right words. Trying to find something genteel among sullied ones. ] I am not sure that we may ever leave. If I stay.
[ Just a thought. Is that a good or bad thing either way? His tone implies nothing. It's not as though they don't have any other day to go.
A pause before Aemond resumes pulling the door open. Though no eyes are on them, nothing out of the ordinary in the way that a son may be escorting his mother, the prince's back straightens just slightly. Thrust back under the risk of eyes and ears as they step out into the hall. Though the presence scant in the corridor, the familiar buzzing of knights, lords, and servants echo up from the serpentine steps.]
There is truth to your words, ( she concedes with a soft laugh to her words upon coming to the same realization. ) You shall leave me at the door, then, as I would hate to push this off to another day.
( Unlike how she acted when he was younger, her interest in meeting Vhagar and possibly flying with him will not wane, but she feels the sooner it happens, the better. To prepare herself if they fly to Oldtown or because she wishes to do more with him than slink around in the cover of night or whatever privacy they might find.
As the doors open, Alicent stands straighter as well. Happily smiling, nodding, and greeting those who pass as they make their way from the small council chamber to her apartments in Maegor's Holdfast.
This deep in the palace, they have more privacy than the halls or areas they walked, but with it still being day ( and even at night ), there is a chance that someone may overhear them. After a quick survey of the hall, Alicent leans in, looking up at him as her hand tightens on his arm. )
If you do not wish to stay, I will need no more than an hour to ready, and I will meet you at the carriage.
[ Similarly, Aemond makes a subtle survey as they cross from hall to hall. Less milling about these corridors but for the occasional servant or stationed guard. Quiet but for the echoes of their footsteps. As innocuous as a question it sounds, he would not have deemed it odd to relax in her antechamber for a time before engagements. Though he's not waiting for dinner and it is up to question if either of them can be trusted with their time along again.
He is better than this. He can wait. He can be abstinent. He can go long periods of time without thinking about trying to crush his mouth against hers against every available hard surface. Or wishing away his free will to allow her to simply command him through those doors instead. He can't let it consume him.
Carefully, Aemond's hand lifts to gather his mother's out from over the clasp along his arm. Peeling it away carefully, his thumb grazing along the tops of her fingers as he removes himself. Dismissing himself with a nod as he speaks. ]
I shall see you upon the hour, mother. [ There it is again, that little affection in his tone. If she had any doubt that he does wish to stay, it hides within the curls of his smile as he steps away. The encroaching footsteps echoing down the hall is what turns him away at last, his hands tucking themselves behind his back as he departs. Similarly to return to his own chambers to change and await for her as they had planned.]
( Returning the nod, Alicent enters her chambers despite the desperate urge to linger in the hall to watch him disappear around a corner. What little time she has is precious and will pass before she realizes it.
Sitting at her vanity, she begins combing through her hair and adds oils once she's done before braiding it over one shoulder ( with hopes that it will cover the mark he left on her neck should she be unable to find an outfit that will cover it ) and securing the end with a ribbon.
Satisfied with what she sees in the mirror, she pushes herself from her chair and is in the hall again, making her way to the abandoned apartments reserved for the princess and her family should they ever return. She pauses before the door, hand on the handle. There is an ache in her chest as she longs for the woman she once called friend, but she pushes those emotions aside and enters the chambers.
After closing the door, she immediately heads towards the trunks she knew the princess once used to store her riding gear. She expects it to be empty but is pleasantly surprised to find some still there. With haste, she begins pulling her dress off, the stays and shift beneath before pulling on the clothes she found in the trunk.
Unfortunately, the clothes within the drunk aren't the shades of green she typically wears, but she can settle for the blacks and reds of House Targaryen (the colors she once wore ). First, she pulls on the crimson shirt, then the black breeches that she tucks the shirt. Next comes the dark grey surcoat with dragon scales upon the shoulders, around the neck, and along the forearms, with silver fastenings along the chest and a belt around her waist. Grabbing the gloves from the box, she slips her shoes on, grabs her clothes, and heads back to her chambers, where she tosses her clothes over the back of a chair and pulls on her own black riding boots.
With one last glance in the mirror, Alicent heads down to the middle bailey. Head high as he descends the stairs, she tucks the gloves into her belt, ignoring the looks as if she isn't dressed for riding and is no longer clad in green.
Once in the bailey, she slips into the waiting carriage. )
[ Aemond is awaiting patiently among the pillows when it is time for his mother to join him. Only needing a far less measure of time to change into a leather jerkin and adjust his hair so that it lies more gathered over his shoulders. Riding gloves similarly tucked into his belt. With one foot kicked up onto the bench, he glances over from idle musing as the carriage door swings open.
Slowly, the prince's head turns to watch her as she sits. If not obviously lightly stunned to see her donning anything other than green. It's not as though he hasn't seen it before. With her hair braided it reminded him of old tapestries woven of her when she was a young queen. The shades of their house red and black blended to match with her copper hair.
It's very....unexpected of her. It's also very unexpected how much he likes seeing her in it. The prince smiles, fighting at the corners of his mouth as the door shuts as she settles. The carriage rocking into a gentle motion. He pulls his eyes off her a moment, composing himself with a dry swallow. ]
Is that my sisters? [He asks in both parts innocently curious and rakishly accusatory as he feigns his attention back out through the lattice.]
( She settles across from him, leaning into the pillows and meeting his gaze as the carriage lurches into motion. The expression on his face is to be expected; unlike his older siblings ( though far too young to even remember ), Aemond was born after she stopped wearing the colors of her husband's house the day of Rhaenyra's wedding and has solely worn the colors of her father's house since.
Feeling a flush of embarrassment ( from his gaze and feeling out of place in the clothes ) threatening to spread over her cheeks and neck, she looks away, fixing her gaze on a spot on the wall where the shadows of the city filter through the latticed window. )
Rhaenyra's. I did not wish to bother Helaena and the children. ( If she had more time to prepare, she would have had her own riding clothes made, but as all of this has been rather spontaneous, she has resorted to rummaging through old chests to find this. Her hands smooth over the leather breeches, happy they fit as she has remained as slender and graceful as before having children โ this has made borrowing her former friend's and stepdaughter's clothes easier. )
Once we return, I should speak with Talya to have my own made.
[ Aemond's gaze keeps out the window, watching the city begin to pass. The view of her is naturally eclipsed by his blinded side. Only slightly needing to turn his chin in order to pull her back into his blurry periphery when she speaks. Planting the image of her rifling through Rhaenyra's dusty chambers.
What does turn his head completely is the idea of her getting her own made. He feels like she should have, at some point as a dragon's bride. Too bad Father never claimed another dragon. Would her riding habits be green, then? There is something about the red, but pushing her to keep it might be a touch too far for something. Either way, the court will whisper.]
You still have time to change your mind. [ Time to decide it's not for her.
It is a show of commitment, though. He will give her that. They had mostly spoken on only meeting Vhagar today, not riding her. Not that Aemond finds himself opposed to taking the she-dragon for a much needed flight(anything to get her away from the Dragonpit, she would fare better if she could nest naturally) or getting his mother to sit in the saddle. Now it seems like he can't refuse the opportunity to push her a bit farther. ]
( Unsure of how the day would unfold, Alicent wanted to be prepared for whatever may come. She could have continued wearing her dress to meet Vhagar, resigning herself to spectating as she once had when she was younger. What would that accomplish other than her being a bystander while others enjoy their interests and hobbies? Nothing because she would resign herself to the role she has taken for all these years. That isn't what she wants anymore; she wants to participate and be present, especially with him.
His words bring forth a thick silence between them as she mulls them over. Aemond, of all people, would never force her into something she did not wish to do โ he may goad her and tease her, but once he realizes that she is against it, he won't push further.
The out he is giving her is appreciated, similar to the ones she has given him over the past few days, but it isn't one she needs. As apprehensive as she is to meet the she-dragon, she would have put her foot down if she was against it, stomping it from his mind.
This is something she wants to do. Perhaps even needs to do. )
My mind has been made, Aemond, ( she finally responds, voice smooth and even despite the occasional bumps of the carriage. ) I wish to do this with you.
( If it were any other, she might not have agreed โ though she imagines few people might successfully convince her, neither of them is in any position to do so. )
[ It isn't so much doubt he feels in that long silence, only curiosity. Able to accept if she decides to decline, even if it would have been a disappointment to hear. It wouldn't have been unsurprising as one. The carriage is quiet as it rocks up the cobble hill. Aemond's lips twinge with a small smile in her response, diverting his attention elsewhere as though not to seem too triumphant.
Vhagar had outgrown the Dragonpit decades ago, diverting the carriage around the far side of the hill to where she often rested not too far beyond one of the pit's outer tunnels. Depositing them there under the more coarse landing of road where two dragonkeepers are waiting for them.
The sun is turning more golden by the hour as Aemond emerges. His eye wide and scanning the hill for the large, ancient wyrm still partially coiled under the afternoon sun. Having heard or anticipated his arrival, rises her head to look over at them with passing indifference. ]
She seems well rested. Let's hope that means she's in a good mood. [ Aemond notes as his attention splits back. Is he joking, isn't he joking. To be fair, it would seem impossible to tell.
He speaks as he steps back over to the opening of the carriage. Hand extended to help his mother down the stairs, most courteously, over the presence of the footman waiting to do the same.]
( Gods, she can't believe she's doing this โ anyone who isn't Aemond must think she's lost her mind ( maybe even he might think she is on the verge of madness as she agreed to meet the great dragon instead of turning down the offer as she once would have ).
A tinge of fear tingles in her throat when he speaks of hoping that Vhagar is in a good mood. Alicent hopes he jests, trying to rile her up, but it is impossible to tell with the dry delivery.
You still have time to decline, she reminds herself, you can stay in the carriage while he โ she stops herself from continuing that line of thinking, especially when she just told him she had made up her mind and that she wanted to do this with him.
Drawing in a deep breath, Alicent pushes herself from her seat and begins exiting the carriage, her eyes flickering between the two hands outstretched towards her, one belonging to Aemong and the other to the footman. Almost immediately, she takes Aemond's hand, curling her fingers around his as she takes the first step before placing her hand in the footman's, almost like an afterthought to allow him to help her as well. Only when she reaches the ground does she keep her hand in Aemond's and removes it from the other man's. )
Thank you, ( she says with a smile before turning her attention fully to her son, thumb smoothing over the back of his hand as she tries to keep her own from trembling from the fear and emotions that threaten to build. Taking a step towards him, eyes locked on his and her voice low so only he can hear, ) As always, I put my faith and trust in you, Aemond. I ask you to guild me and teach me as I give myself to you entirely.
[He says nothing at first as she draws closer, their hands dangling between them. She tries to still it, but he can feel her tremble. Hidden under the way she adjusts the clutch of her hand around his. Similarly he adjusts the twining of their fingers to more firmly secure hers.
Aemond is not sure he should be trusted so with something so wholly given. Not when it's presented, do his thoughts begin to plunge into temptations of depravity. A large burden of responsibility lain in his hands, now the responsibility of her wellness. Her fear is valid and palpable, but so is the tingling anticipation. The flare of adrenaline coursing through her veins. ]
Take a deep breath and stay by my side. [ Aemond instructs, soft and assured of the situation. She must have recalled all the times he returned from the pit with singed eyebrows. Approaching a dragon with it's rider is a score easier than trying to visit them alone. Vhagar is clever, almost human in her understanding. To him, there's nearly no risk to it at all.
A low rumble barrels out of Vhagar's chest, spitting plumes of smoke out of her nose as she settles with a sigh. Aemond steps aside, arm twisting along with hers as he begins to guide her away from the carriage. His head turning over one shoulder to bark the attention of the keepers. ]
Derฤbagon iฤ tศณne mazilฤซbagon hen belma. รuha muรฑa kipagon lฤda nyke tubฤซ [ Promptly, one of the dragonkeepers nods and hurries into the entry of the lower pits to fetch at his request. The other begins to amble along into the field with one of their staves, going no further ahead than them as Aemond slowly guides the both of them into the warm open clearing.]
( As distant and disinterested as she was when he was a child, learning about dragons alongside his brother and nephews, Alicent remembered every moment he returned to her from the Dragonpit smelling of dragon musk, dirty and often injured. More often than not, she feared that his boldness would get the better of him and he wouldn't return to her ( even if the worst he endured were singed eyebrows and a few minor scrapes ) โ it seems that boldness is what got Aemond his dragon in the end.
Swallowing down the lump that has lodged itself in her throat and steeling her nerves with a deep breath, Alicent walks beside Aemond with her arm threaded through his.
Balerion, the Black Dread, had died long before Alicent ever married King Viserys, and with him never taking another dragon, she had no real reason to learn about dragons. What basics she did know were from her childhood with Rhaenyra and from what she gathered from her children as she listened to them in their excitement as they learned. She managed to pick up things here and there, basic words and commands in High Valryian, but nothing she ever thought would be useful or impressive. )
With how brazen you can be, I am impressed you take precautions while flying, ( she teases, having picked up on the word for chains. As they walk and talk, she hopes it will provide enough distraction to calm her already heightened nerves and ease the adrenaline surging through her veins that makes her want to flee. )
[ There is a gentle sway, quickly corrected as she gathers up his arm to escort her off the coarse path. His attention focused now on the behemoth ahead. It's still a dangerous thing, despite how well he knows his dragon. The first things they're taught is to understand the body language. To be able to detect the split second of movement one would need to prevent or evade tragedy from striking. ]
An ill-placed gust can be more deadly than a dragon itself. [ Aemond has no issue admitting to be cautious. The first time he flew Vhagar, he nearly was flung off her back and into the sea. A child clinging to reins and getting whipped around by the wind. Did he sometimes still ride without chaining himself? Sometimes. His mother didn't need to know that. He also didn't want to be responsible for losing her somewhere over Blackwater bay. It would mean an unfortunate conversation with Father.
As they draw closer, the great wyrm stirs in her napping spot. Big, citrine eyes blinking open before her head lifts slowly to address their approach. A dozy groan rumbles deep in her throat. A beast this big makes it difficult to discern friendliness from hostility by noise alone. Aemond doesn't seem all too concerned. Smiling up at Vhagar as they seem to regard each other eye to eye like old companions. ]
Vhagar. [ He calls out, releasing his mother's grip on his arm so that he might step forward. Speaking as he coaxes the she-dragon to lower her head again.] Mฤzฤซs. Uฤpa riรฑa, mฤzigon kesฤซr. Kesan hae ao naejot rhaenagon รฑuha muรฑa.
[ His hands coming to rest along her weathered snout. Does she look amicable or reluctant, difficult to say. Much like her rider, the dragon is no less perplexing. Fearsome to look at, yet seems sink towards Aemond's hands like an aged hound eager for petting. The prince glances back and gives her a nod, urging her to come stand to his right. To stand more inward towards the neck than the snout. ]
( The nostalgic sight before her, accompanied by the ( unfortunate ) smells and sounds, is almost staggering as the feeling slams into Alicent's chest โ making her long for a time since past and a friend she will never have again.
Much of her childhood was spent here as she accompanied Princess Rhaenyra, who desperately tried to coax her companion to ride with her once the golden beast Syrax was big enough to hold two, but Alicent declined as she preferred to stay on solid ground and within the safety of the carriage.
Walking beside her son, she wonders if things would have turned out differently had she given in to Rhaenrya's flights of fancy. To join her on dragon back to see the sights of the world while feasting upon cake. The memories sting her heartache and eyes, but she almost feels the corners of her mouth uplift before her attention is pulled again to the present and the weathered best before her.
Vhagar.
Alicent's heart hammers to life within the confines of her chest โ slamming against her ribcage, desperate to escape as she fights her body's instinct to flee from such a renowned beast.
Aemond trusts the she-dragon, and Alicent trusts her son; therefore, she should trust the beast as well, but it is hard fighting the instincts of one's body, and she knows better than to run or show fear ( though she is certain Vhagar can likely smell it upon her ).
Distracting herself, she watches Aemond and Vhagar โ how he talks with her, the unguarded smile on his lips, and how she almost seems to melt into his touch. It is enough to bring a smile to her lips as she steps to his right and reaches out, letting her bare hand rest upon the scales, feeling the life of fire made flesh beneath her touch as she slides her hand further down the neck. )
Kreni naejot rhaenagon ao, Vhagar.
( Her words are choppy and unrefined from her basic understanding of the ancient language, and she rarely ( if ever ) speaks the language; therefore, she has no practice, but her father insists she learn while accompanying Rhaenyra and in pursuit of Viserys. )
๐ Iโm on my phone so I sure hope thatโs the right html for hovertext
[ She is a cranky thing, Vhagar. Aemond remembers those first years with her were touch and go. She trusted him enough to have the gall to be her rider but little else. He wondered if she mourned her last rider or the one before that or even the one who rode her first. It took a lot of time to find her soft underside, to find what could bring her joy.
Even now, as his hands dutifully itch away at the worn skin and soft scales, she is cautious of the lesser known visitor that eases up to Aemondโs side. The prince monitors the behavior of both. She is still a very dangerous thing, volatile and deadly. Though their bond seems to get deeper as the years grow, she still has much a mind of her own. One big yellow eye follows Alicent, seeming to recognize her roughly spoken valyrian. ]
[ Aemond continues to soothe his hand along Vhagars undercheek as he speaks to her. A low rumble bellows out, either in recognition or not, before the dragon lifts her head up out of reach. Aemond steps in towards his mother and blindly reaches for her other hand at her side as he keeps his sights on Vhagar, attuned to her body language though finding nothing threatening of it. Knowing it may be a bit different from Motherโs perspective.]
Are you ready to climb her?
[ He asks, head slightly tilted towards her as he guides them a step or two back out of Vhagarโs way. Behind them, the keeper sent to fetch the chains has caught up to them to deposit them into Aemondโs free hand. ]
( That palpable, hammering fear lodged in her throat, accompanied by instinct, causes Alicent to step back as the great she-dragon's head raises, but she does not get far as Aemond's hand wraps around her own. Turning her head to keep her sights ( mostly ) on her son's dragon, she looks at him โ eyes wide with fear that only seems to surmount when he asks if she's ready to climb Vhagar.
By the Seven, what has she gotten herself into?
Giving her full attention to the dragon once more, Alicent squeezes Aemond's hand, seeking out that comfort and reassurance she has always found in him. (It is unfair for a parent to put that weight onto a child, but their relationship has always been different than what she has with her other children. ) )
The time for backing down has long passed, I fear.
( It is never too late, she knows this, as Aemond would never force her to climb or ride his dragon, but she knows that if she doesn't push herself and do this, she will continue avoiding this, and as she craves to be close with Aemond, she knows she must do this.
Stepping away from Vhagar, Alicent follows his lead, watching the exchange of the chains while also trying to understand the dragon's body language, knowing she will never understand a creature as formidable as she is. )
[ She may be fearful for her life at this very moment, but a smile can't help but crawl further along his lips. Twitching at the corner of his mouth as he fixes the chains over his shoulder, his eye draws to the hand between them as his thumb presses down against her hand. His mother is nothing if not convicted of her actions, a woman who takes her word as gospel. She came here for him and she presses on despite trembling. ]
Fear not. [ It's as simple as that. She only has to trust him.
Vhagar is rested with a gentle rumble under their feet, giving them a still surface to move against. Aemond wraps his hand into the ropes to pull himself into them before helping her do the same.
Possibly her most challenging task of this, but a short one. He's with her every step upward in case she somehow tries to fall. Gradually, he forces her ahead to the saddle where he slips into a seat first before helping her the rest of the way. ]
( If she were not terrified, she might scold him for the smugness she sees pulling at the corners of his lips, but there's little time for that as she's encouraged to grab onto the ropes and begin climbing toward the saddle. Committing to this is a horrible idea; she knows this, but she's doing this for him.
As soon as she pulls herself up, feet supported by the weight and no longer the solid ground, she curses herself. Her arms and legs burn from being used in ways they never have. As a lady of the court who became Queen and now Dowager Queen, Alicent has never needed to build muscle, and climbing towards the saddle of the dragon differed greatly from mounting the saddle of a horse.
She pushes forward, thankful for his help and encouragement as it provides a distraction, allowing her to ignore the protest of her muscles as she finally ascends to the saddle and settles in. )
[ Vhagar is almost solid as the ground beneath their legs. Rumbling quietly with every breath sucked up into her lungs. The prince twists around to sit backward so that he may see her in, choosing to ignore for both their sakes the slight tremor he gleans from the weight of her hand against his. He holds onto it a moment longer before pulling away to strap her into the saddle. ]
The worst of it has passed. [ He placates her like he would his dragon, tightening the strap along her calf. His fingers linger there too, brushing the fabric of her ill-gotten riding trousers as he leans toward the other side.
A thought passes in the gap of his words, thinking almost to mention how he nearly flew off the dragon's back on his first flight. Not a story to share with his mother, at least he is to ensure there's no chance of it happening to her. ] If you feel faint, you only need to hang on.
Has it? ( She questions, disbelief on her tongue, but it holds no sharpness as she looks about them. ) I feel as though it has yet to come.
( As he moves in to tighten the straps at her thighs, Alicent leans towards him, driven by instinct and desire. The simple, fleeting touch is enough to hitch her breath in her throat, resting her forehead against his shoulder as he works on her other thigh. Her hand rests upon his chest, the trembling beginning to calm as her fingers trace over the stitching and quilting of his riding leathers.
There's a soft laugh and a shake of her head. Disbelief that she's actually doing this, but there's no backing out now should the compulsion hit her; she's strapped in and not keen on the idea of climbing down the mighty she-dragon so soon as climbing atop her. )
Alright. ( She gives an affirming nod as she sits up. The color of her face has become slightly pallid as she sucks in a deep breath to calm her nerves and the anticipation growing in her stomach. )
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It is appealing, and she would be a liar to say otherwise. Such a trip would save the crown money in the end. The journey to and from would take eight days, leaving more time for them to spend in Oldtown or anywhere along the way versus the two moons long trip it would have taken by carriage.
Her hands shift from her lap, palms pressed against the table, and fingers curling under the edge. Her shoulders back, chest pushed out, and rises with each breath.
The only downfall ( if she dares even to call it that ) is that they would be alone, without anyone to guard them. While she knows he is skilled with a sword and Vhagar is a deterrent in and of herself, there are still those who would be foolish to attempt something if they know the queen and the young prince are traveling alone โ it would be a handsome ransom. It is risky, perhaps too risky.
She cannot remember the last time she went anywhere without the royal guard, and yet she can't stop herself from reveling in the thought of being utterly alone with him. )
While I am not as skilled or knowledgeable as you and your sibling are regarding dragons, I know your saddle is made for one. This means, whether for the trip to Oldtown or flying with you regularly, I would either need to sit in your lap, or you'd be pressed against the pommel with me behind you.
There is also the matter of my lack of proper riding โ flying attire and being unaccustomed, as you said.
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It's not that small of a saddle, he would argue. She could fit it. For long durations, he hadn't thought about it in too much a detail. Nor would he seem to mind the thought of being pressed up against her for such a time. Though those thoughts are too strangled in his mind. It was a laborious idea, which is why he only meant to mention it to make a point among the lords. But one ride with her, at least. If not to Oldtown, perhaps somewhere closer.
Aemond's gaze falls and he swallows dry before speaking. ]
There is still time to accustom you. [ He notes as though it were a new suggestion. Playful, but so very subtle as though it got ahead of himself. He looks away briefly, chipping off a splinter of wood with his nail before flicking it away as he wets his lips. Recovering himself to speak more amicably. ]
We can still meet with her this afternoon, if you're not already engaged.
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But after that โ what held his interest so? Was there anything other than Vhagar and flying? There were his studies and training, but that all felt like it pales compared to his newfound desire to get her to ride with him.
She remains silent for a long moment, noting his voice's playfulness and how he idly picks at the chair. In an idleness of her own, Alicen't fingers drum against the underside of the table. )
This afternoon and evening are free of engagements, ( she finally says. ) I thought to relax in the baths at some point, but that can wait until we return.
( Playfully, she bumps her leg against his before beginning to push herself away from the table. ) Suppose I should ready myself. Shall we meet there or arrive together?
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Her answer comes slow, but when it does Aemond's expression softens just so. As she moves, so does he. Brushing back his chair so that he may too rise to his feet.]
I don't mind waiting. [ He answers as he steps around his chair, hands smoothing and straightening his coat by it's bottom hem. Waiting beside to depart with her at last.
It's easier this way, nor is he in any particular rush to make it to the Dragonpit on this day. The attendance of the council and the preparations beforehand have uprooted whatever normalcy there was. Unnatural as it is, he doesn't seem to mind it. Nor would the prospect of more time spent together, as strange as it already were.]
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With him standing beside her, Alicent gently places her hand in the crook of his elbow, her fingers pressing into the fabric of his coat, sinking into the plush fabric. The thought of lingering here together dances in the forefront of her imagination, of him pressing her against the table, mouth hungry against hers, or even him sitting in the chair at the head of the table, kneeling between his legs, or sitting on his lap. But she does not allow the temptation to linger long, as they have plans to head to the Dragonpit, and with each passing second, they are losing light. )
If you are free and do not have business to attend, care to walk me to my chambers?
I will ready myself then meet you in the middle bailey, ( she starts, then looks up at him before adding, ) unless you wish to stay.
( There are a few places she knows she'll be able to find suitable riding ware, as she owns none. Preferably she would like to start the abandoned apartments of the princess as she likely left things behind for the rare occasion she visits before asking Helaena or Talya for assistance. )
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Aemond's hand pauses at the door to meet her look as she implies him to stay while she gets ready. Wavering on a thought most imprudent as he thinks of the way she'd looked as she shed her gown. A thought that is quickly brushed away.]
I don't mind. Though โ [ He pauses, as though trying to filter through the right words. Trying to find something genteel among sullied ones. ] I am not sure that we may ever leave. If I stay.
[ Just a thought. Is that a good or bad thing either way? His tone implies nothing. It's not as though they don't have any other day to go.
A pause before Aemond resumes pulling the door open. Though no eyes are on them, nothing out of the ordinary in the way that a son may be escorting his mother, the prince's back straightens just slightly. Thrust back under the risk of eyes and ears as they step out into the hall. Though the presence scant in the corridor, the familiar buzzing of knights, lords, and servants echo up from the serpentine steps.]
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( Unlike how she acted when he was younger, her interest in meeting Vhagar and possibly flying with him will not wane, but she feels the sooner it happens, the better. To prepare herself if they fly to Oldtown or because she wishes to do more with him than slink around in the cover of night or whatever privacy they might find.
As the doors open, Alicent stands straighter as well. Happily smiling, nodding, and greeting those who pass as they make their way from the small council chamber to her apartments in Maegor's Holdfast.
This deep in the palace, they have more privacy than the halls or areas they walked, but with it still being day ( and even at night ), there is a chance that someone may overhear them. After a quick survey of the hall, Alicent leans in, looking up at him as her hand tightens on his arm. )
If you do not wish to stay, I will need no more than an hour to ready, and I will meet you at the carriage.
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He is better than this. He can wait. He can be abstinent. He can go long periods of time without thinking about trying to crush his mouth against hers against every available hard surface. Or wishing away his free will to allow her to simply command him through those doors instead. He can't let it consume him.
Carefully, Aemond's hand lifts to gather his mother's out from over the clasp along his arm. Peeling it away carefully, his thumb grazing along the tops of her fingers as he removes himself. Dismissing himself with a nod as he speaks. ]
I shall see you upon the hour, mother. [ There it is again, that little affection in his tone. If she had any doubt that he does wish to stay, it hides within the curls of his smile as he steps away. The encroaching footsteps echoing down the hall is what turns him away at last, his hands tucking themselves behind his back as he departs. Similarly to return to his own chambers to change and await for her as they had planned.]
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Sitting at her vanity, she begins combing through her hair and adds oils once she's done before braiding it over one shoulder ( with hopes that it will cover the mark he left on her neck should she be unable to find an outfit that will cover it ) and securing the end with a ribbon.
Satisfied with what she sees in the mirror, she pushes herself from her chair and is in the hall again, making her way to the abandoned apartments reserved for the princess and her family should they ever return. She pauses before the door, hand on the handle. There is an ache in her chest as she longs for the woman she once called friend, but she pushes those emotions aside and enters the chambers.
After closing the door, she immediately heads towards the trunks she knew the princess once used to store her riding gear. She expects it to be empty but is pleasantly surprised to find some still there. With haste, she begins pulling her dress off, the stays and shift beneath before pulling on the clothes she found in the trunk.
Unfortunately, the clothes within the drunk aren't the shades of green she typically wears, but she can settle for the blacks and reds of House Targaryen (the colors she once wore ). First, she pulls on the crimson shirt, then the black breeches that she tucks the shirt. Next comes the dark grey surcoat with dragon scales upon the shoulders, around the neck, and along the forearms, with silver fastenings along the chest and a belt around her waist. Grabbing the gloves from the box, she slips her shoes on, grabs her clothes, and heads back to her chambers, where she tosses her clothes over the back of a chair and pulls on her own black riding boots.
With one last glance in the mirror, Alicent heads down to the middle bailey. Head high as he descends the stairs, she tucks the gloves into her belt, ignoring the looks as if she isn't dressed for riding and is no longer clad in green.
Once in the bailey, she slips into the waiting carriage. )
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Slowly, the prince's head turns to watch her as she sits. If not obviously lightly stunned to see her donning anything other than green. It's not as though he hasn't seen it before. With her hair braided it reminded him of old tapestries woven of her when she was a young queen. The shades of their house red and black blended to match with her copper hair.
It's very....unexpected of her. It's also very unexpected how much he likes seeing her in it. The prince smiles, fighting at the corners of his mouth as the door shuts as she settles. The carriage rocking into a gentle motion. He pulls his eyes off her a moment, composing himself with a dry swallow. ]
Is that my sisters? [He asks in both parts innocently curious and rakishly accusatory as he feigns his attention back out through the lattice.]
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Feeling a flush of embarrassment ( from his gaze and feeling out of place in the clothes ) threatening to spread over her cheeks and neck, she looks away, fixing her gaze on a spot on the wall where the shadows of the city filter through the latticed window. )
Rhaenyra's. I did not wish to bother Helaena and the children. ( If she had more time to prepare, she would have had her own riding clothes made, but as all of this has been rather spontaneous, she has resorted to rummaging through old chests to find this. Her hands smooth over the leather breeches, happy they fit as she has remained as slender and graceful as before having children โ this has made borrowing her former friend's and stepdaughter's clothes easier. )
Once we return, I should speak with Talya to have my own made.
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What does turn his head completely is the idea of her getting her own made. He feels like she should have, at some point as a dragon's bride. Too bad Father never claimed another dragon. Would her riding habits be green, then? There is something about the red, but pushing her to keep it might be a touch too far for something. Either way, the court will whisper.]
You still have time to change your mind. [ Time to decide it's not for her.
It is a show of commitment, though. He will give her that. They had mostly spoken on only meeting Vhagar today, not riding her. Not that Aemond finds himself opposed to taking the she-dragon for a much needed flight(anything to get her away from the Dragonpit, she would fare better if she could nest naturally) or getting his mother to sit in the saddle. Now it seems like he can't refuse the opportunity to push her a bit farther. ]
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His words bring forth a thick silence between them as she mulls them over. Aemond, of all people, would never force her into something she did not wish to do โ he may goad her and tease her, but once he realizes that she is against it, he won't push further.
The out he is giving her is appreciated, similar to the ones she has given him over the past few days, but it isn't one she needs. As apprehensive as she is to meet the she-dragon, she would have put her foot down if she was against it, stomping it from his mind.
This is something she wants to do. Perhaps even needs to do. )
My mind has been made, Aemond, ( she finally responds, voice smooth and even despite the occasional bumps of the carriage. ) I wish to do this with you.
( If it were any other, she might not have agreed โ though she imagines few people might successfully convince her, neither of them is in any position to do so. )
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Vhagar had outgrown the Dragonpit decades ago, diverting the carriage around the far side of the hill to where she often rested not too far beyond one of the pit's outer tunnels. Depositing them there under the more coarse landing of road where two dragonkeepers are waiting for them.
The sun is turning more golden by the hour as Aemond emerges. His eye wide and scanning the hill for the large, ancient wyrm still partially coiled under the afternoon sun. Having heard or anticipated his arrival, rises her head to look over at them with passing indifference. ]
She seems well rested. Let's hope that means she's in a good mood. [ Aemond notes as his attention splits back. Is he joking, isn't he joking. To be fair, it would seem impossible to tell.
He speaks as he steps back over to the opening of the carriage. Hand extended to help his mother down the stairs, most courteously, over the presence of the footman waiting to do the same.]
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A tinge of fear tingles in her throat when he speaks of hoping that Vhagar is in a good mood. Alicent hopes he jests, trying to rile her up, but it is impossible to tell with the dry delivery.
You still have time to decline, she reminds herself, you can stay in the carriage while he โ she stops herself from continuing that line of thinking, especially when she just told him she had made up her mind and that she wanted to do this with him.
Drawing in a deep breath, Alicent pushes herself from her seat and begins exiting the carriage, her eyes flickering between the two hands outstretched towards her, one belonging to Aemong and the other to the footman. Almost immediately, she takes Aemond's hand, curling her fingers around his as she takes the first step before placing her hand in the footman's, almost like an afterthought to allow him to help her as well. Only when she reaches the ground does she keep her hand in Aemond's and removes it from the other man's. )
Thank you, ( she says with a smile before turning her attention fully to her son, thumb smoothing over the back of his hand as she tries to keep her own from trembling from the fear and emotions that threaten to build. Taking a step towards him, eyes locked on his and her voice low so only he can hear, ) As always, I put my faith and trust in you, Aemond. I ask you to guild me and teach me as I give myself to you entirely.
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Aemond is not sure he should be trusted so with something so wholly given. Not when it's presented, do his thoughts begin to plunge into temptations of depravity. A large burden of responsibility lain in his hands, now the responsibility of her wellness. Her fear is valid and palpable, but so is the tingling anticipation. The flare of adrenaline coursing through her veins. ]
Take a deep breath and stay by my side. [ Aemond instructs, soft and assured of the situation. She must have recalled all the times he returned from the pit with singed eyebrows. Approaching a dragon with it's rider is a score easier than trying to visit them alone. Vhagar is clever, almost human in her understanding. To him, there's nearly no risk to it at all.
A low rumble barrels out of Vhagar's chest, spitting plumes of smoke out of her nose as she settles with a sigh. Aemond steps aside, arm twisting along with hers as he begins to guide her away from the carriage. His head turning over one shoulder to bark the attention of the keepers. ]
Derฤbagon iฤ tศณne mazilฤซbagon hen belma. รuha muรฑa kipagon lฤda nyke tubฤซ [ Promptly, one of the dragonkeepers nods and hurries into the entry of the lower pits to fetch at his request. The other begins to amble along into the field with one of their staves, going no further ahead than them as Aemond slowly guides the both of them into the warm open clearing.]
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Swallowing down the lump that has lodged itself in her throat and steeling her nerves with a deep breath, Alicent walks beside Aemond with her arm threaded through his.
Balerion, the Black Dread, had died long before Alicent ever married King Viserys, and with him never taking another dragon, she had no real reason to learn about dragons. What basics she did know were from her childhood with Rhaenyra and from what she gathered from her children as she listened to them in their excitement as they learned. She managed to pick up things here and there, basic words and commands in High Valryian, but nothing she ever thought would be useful or impressive. )
With how brazen you can be, I am impressed you take precautions while flying, ( she teases, having picked up on the word for chains. As they walk and talk, she hopes it will provide enough distraction to calm her already heightened nerves and ease the adrenaline surging through her veins that makes her want to flee. )
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An ill-placed gust can be more deadly than a dragon itself. [ Aemond has no issue admitting to be cautious. The first time he flew Vhagar, he nearly was flung off her back and into the sea. A child clinging to reins and getting whipped around by the wind. Did he sometimes still ride without chaining himself? Sometimes. His mother didn't need to know that. He also didn't want to be responsible for losing her somewhere over Blackwater bay. It would mean an unfortunate conversation with Father.
As they draw closer, the great wyrm stirs in her napping spot. Big, citrine eyes blinking open before her head lifts slowly to address their approach. A dozy groan rumbles deep in her throat. A beast this big makes it difficult to discern friendliness from hostility by noise alone. Aemond doesn't seem all too concerned. Smiling up at Vhagar as they seem to regard each other eye to eye like old companions. ]
Vhagar. [ He calls out, releasing his mother's grip on his arm so that he might step forward. Speaking as he coaxes the she-dragon to lower her head again.] Mฤzฤซs. Uฤpa riรฑa, mฤzigon kesฤซr. Kesan hae ao naejot rhaenagon รฑuha muรฑa.
[ His hands coming to rest along her weathered snout. Does she look amicable or reluctant, difficult to say. Much like her rider, the dragon is no less perplexing. Fearsome to look at, yet seems sink towards Aemond's hands like an aged hound eager for petting. The prince glances back and gives her a nod, urging her to come stand to his right. To stand more inward towards the neck than the snout. ]
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Much of her childhood was spent here as she accompanied Princess Rhaenyra, who desperately tried to coax her companion to ride with her once the golden beast Syrax was big enough to hold two, but Alicent declined as she preferred to stay on solid ground and within the safety of the carriage.
Walking beside her son, she wonders if things would have turned out differently had she given in to Rhaenrya's flights of fancy. To join her on dragon back to see the sights of the world while feasting upon cake. The memories sting her heartache and eyes, but she almost feels the corners of her mouth uplift before her attention is pulled again to the present and the weathered best before her.
Vhagar.
Alicent's heart hammers to life within the confines of her chest โ slamming against her ribcage, desperate to escape as she fights her body's instinct to flee from such a renowned beast.
Aemond trusts the she-dragon, and Alicent trusts her son; therefore, she should trust the beast as well, but it is hard fighting the instincts of one's body, and she knows better than to run or show fear ( though she is certain Vhagar can likely smell it upon her ).
Distracting herself, she watches Aemond and Vhagar โ how he talks with her, the unguarded smile on his lips, and how she almost seems to melt into his touch. It is enough to bring a smile to her lips as she steps to his right and reaches out, letting her bare hand rest upon the scales, feeling the life of fire made flesh beneath her touch as she slides her hand further down the neck. )
Kreni naejot rhaenagon ao, Vhagar.
( Her words are choppy and unrefined from her basic understanding of the ancient language, and she rarely ( if ever ) speaks the language; therefore, she has no practice, but her father insists she learn while accompanying Rhaenyra and in pursuit of Viserys. )
๐ Iโm on my phone so I sure hope thatโs the right html for hovertext
Even now, as his hands dutifully itch away at the worn skin and soft scales, she is cautious of the lesser known visitor that eases up to Aemondโs side. The prince monitors the behavior of both. She is still a very dangerous thing, volatile and deadly. Though their bond seems to get deeper as the years grow, she still has much a mind of her own. One big yellow eye follows Alicent, seeming to recognize her roughly spoken valyrian. ]
Konฤซr, vhagar. Issa hen รฑuha ฤnogar. Kostas kipagon lฤda nyke. Kesฤ mazลregon zirศณla
[ Aemond continues to soothe his hand along Vhagars undercheek as he speaks to her. A low rumble bellows out, either in recognition or not, before the dragon lifts her head up out of reach. Aemond steps in towards his mother and blindly reaches for her other hand at her side as he keeps his sights on Vhagar, attuned to her body language though finding nothing threatening of it. Knowing it may be a bit different from Motherโs perspective.]
Are you ready to climb her?
[ He asks, head slightly tilted towards her as he guides them a step or two back out of Vhagarโs way. Behind them, the keeper sent to fetch the chains has caught up to them to deposit them into Aemondโs free hand. ]
guess who's back, back again?
( That palpable, hammering fear lodged in her throat, accompanied by instinct, causes Alicent to step back as the great she-dragon's head raises, but she does not get far as Aemond's hand wraps around her own. Turning her head to keep her sights ( mostly ) on her son's dragon, she looks at him โ eyes wide with fear that only seems to surmount when he asks if she's ready to climb Vhagar.
By the Seven, what has she gotten herself into?
Giving her full attention to the dragon once more, Alicent squeezes Aemond's hand, seeking out that comfort and reassurance she has always found in him. (It is unfair for a parent to put that weight onto a child, but their relationship has always been different than what she has with her other children. ) )
The time for backing down has long passed, I fear.
( It is never too late, she knows this, as Aemond would never force her to climb or ride his dragon, but she knows that if she doesn't push herself and do this, she will continue avoiding this, and as she craves to be close with Aemond, she knows she must do this.
Stepping away from Vhagar, Alicent follows his lead, watching the exchange of the chains while also trying to understand the dragon's body language, knowing she will never understand a creature as formidable as she is. )
๐
Fear not. [ It's as simple as that. She only has to trust him.
Vhagar is rested with a gentle rumble under their feet, giving them a still surface to move against. Aemond wraps his hand into the ropes to pull himself into them before helping her do the same.
Possibly her most challenging task of this, but a short one. He's with her every step upward in case she somehow tries to fall. Gradually, he forces her ahead to the saddle where he slips into a seat first before helping her the rest of the way. ]
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( If she were not terrified, she might scold him for the smugness she sees pulling at the corners of his lips, but there's little time for that as she's encouraged to grab onto the ropes and begin climbing toward the saddle. Committing to this is a horrible idea; she knows this, but she's doing this for him.
As soon as she pulls herself up, feet supported by the weight and no longer the solid ground, she curses herself. Her arms and legs burn from being used in ways they never have. As a lady of the court who became Queen and now Dowager Queen, Alicent has never needed to build muscle, and climbing towards the saddle of the dragon differed greatly from mounting the saddle of a horse.
She pushes forward, thankful for his help and encouragement as it provides a distraction, allowing her to ignore the protest of her muscles as she finally ascends to the saddle and settles in. )
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The worst of it has passed. [ He placates her like he would his dragon, tightening the strap along her calf. His fingers linger there too, brushing the fabric of her ill-gotten riding trousers as he leans toward the other side.
A thought passes in the gap of his words, thinking almost to mention how he nearly flew off the dragon's back on his first flight. Not a story to share with his mother, at least he is to ensure there's no chance of it happening to her. ] If you feel faint, you only need to hang on.
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Has it? ( She questions, disbelief on her tongue, but it holds no sharpness as she looks about them. ) I feel as though it has yet to come.
( As he moves in to tighten the straps at her thighs, Alicent leans towards him, driven by instinct and desire. The simple, fleeting touch is enough to hitch her breath in her throat, resting her forehead against his shoulder as he works on her other thigh. Her hand rests upon his chest, the trembling beginning to calm as her fingers trace over the stitching and quilting of his riding leathers.
There's a soft laugh and a shake of her head. Disbelief that she's actually doing this, but there's no backing out now should the compulsion hit her; she's strapped in and not keen on the idea of climbing down the mighty she-dragon so soon as climbing atop her. )
Alright. ( She gives an affirming nod as she sits up. The color of her face has become slightly pallid as she sucks in a deep breath to calm her nerves and the anticipation growing in her stomach. )
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