Continued from here
@deadwinterreign
At this Aemond chuckled, the briefest hint of a smile pulling at his lips. Ever has he held his youngest brother in his affections, and it seemed time away had not at all dulled his love. Daeron had always looked up to his elder siblings as an example, emulated them, praised them, and he saw no reason why (though he was the third child) his brother should not look up to him also.
“I know,” he said, placing a gentle hand on Daeron’s shoulder. It lingered for a moment, before it returned again by its owner’s side.
And beneath his front of ice and cold steel, something within him breathed in relief. Of course he was not a monster, he knew that, for his actions were only ever a consequence to the foolish actions of another. And yet, at times, in the dark of night and accompanied by no one save his ever-churning thoughts, he wondered if perhaps he was wrong. If, maybe, he had gone too far in pursuit of a throne he’ll never have.
In some unexpected reprieve, Daeron had been brought to the Keep to visit with family. Ormund, with his blatant distaste for all things Targaryen, had deigned to visit with his cousin and brought his squire along. Daeron had been cautioned not to spend too long among the savages, but how could he restrain himself? He had grieved the absence of his mother and siblings, and surely cousin Ormund would forgive that. He could hardly help himself, could he? He was tainted with Targaryen blood after all. While the boy chuckled quietly to himself at the thought of using his cousins own prejudice against him, he knew it would not end well if he gave in to the childish temptation.
Better to hope he did not notice.
Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.
The warmth of his older brothers affection, rare as it had apparently become of late, if their sister was to be believed; was met with adoration. The younger boy beamed at Aemond, hands clasped behind his back as he had become accustomed to doing. He was a squire before he was a Prince, these days. A follower.
"I still cannot believe you claimed Vhaegar," he breathed, softly, as though afraid of his own enthusiasm. "That is most impressive, lēkia. I wish I had been there to witness it. Perhaps, perhaps one day we might fly together? Tessarion is... small compared to Vhaegar- as are most of them-" he almost giggled at that, though composed himself swiftly: "but it would be such fun."
