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damn-stark · 2 years

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Part 2 The Golden & The No Name Knight

Part 2 of The Lion and The Dragon

A/N- I’ll continue the rest of this series!

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!fem-reader

Warning- Angst, language, forced marriage, violence and blood.

Episode- takes place before 1x08

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

The sounds of swords clashing mixed in the breeze, making Nyra’s words beside you difficult to hear.

“….repeat it!” She exclaims the last bit of her sentence.

You shake your head and narrow your gaze. “I—what? I didn’t quite catch that. Repeat it.”

Nyra groans and parts his lips to repeat herself for the second time. “I said...”

Yet her words once again get tuned out the moment you catch your dear and loving husband, Prince Aemond, in the training yard.

He’s quick and swift with each swing and every duck to evade the knight you know as Ser Criston Cole. For someone so slender compared to his dueling partner, Aemond is quite strong and manages to push off Ser Criston’s sword before he kicks him away with ease.

Hm.

He hadn’t noticed you watching yet—or so you think. But you did take in every step he did and memorized it, wondered if that could ever be you, training like them in public.

It’s not to say that you wish to become a man to hold a sword, no, none of that. You wondered if you could ever become a fierce woman warrior just like Queen Visenya was, be as comfortable in ringmail just as you are in silk. Just like how it was told she was. That’s your wish.

To be remembered as something fierce and not be forgotten, or written down as a simple wife and mother.

Sometimes—no, most of the times when you daydream, you like to imagine yourself holding a sword and fighting like the brave warriors.

“Ah,” Nyra finally comments, having given up trying to teach you what was in the scripture for now. “Gawking are we? It was that good,” she snickers.

Your eyes widen and you quickly snap your head towards her to swat her arm. “Nyra,” you hiss and proceed to navigate your way through the damned castle. “Quiet. I told you to be quiet.”

Nyra lingers behind for a bit before she giggles and skips to catch up to you. “Tell me did he show you his eye?”

You roll your eyes and walk back inside the castle to try and return to your chambers after having wandered a bit too far. “Why—” you sigh and shake your head. “No he did not show me his eye.”

Nyra hums and stops, forcing you to do the same.

“So he slept with the patch on?” She questions.

You press your lips together and let out a deep breath before turning and shaking your head again. “No,” you tell her. “The prince did not end up staying the night, so I wouldn't know.”

Nyra scoffs and steps towards you to continue walking. “Well, regardless, he totally saw you just now. So if you ask nicely maybe he’ll teach you a thing or two.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “Sure, but my dear Nyra, I am but a fragile maiden, I cannot touch a sword,” you add sarcastically. “Who knows what might happen, my arm might fall off, or worse yet, I may grow a pair of balls.”

“See,” Nyra retorts with a pointed glare. “It’s this attitude that made him not want to stay the night.”

You giggle and clasp your hands behind your back as you turn yet another hall that looks like all the others.

“This castle is too big. I swear we just went in a circle,” you complain.

“So is your belly swollen,” Nyra blurts and touches your belly. “Are you expecting?” She smirks.

You smack her hand away and snap back. “No! It’s been five days!”

Nyra shrugs. “So?” She quips. “You know Alyssa Hill?”

You squint and think, but can’t come up with a face. “No. There was like three of those.”

She sighs and snaps her fingers. “Alyssa Hill, the blonde, dark eyed one. Eyes black as coal?”

“Oh! Yes! Her! What about her?” You question.

Nyra smirks again as she gets all smug. “She began to show five days after she lay with her husband.”

You scoff. “That’s because she was also with the stable boy before getting married,” you retort, making Nyra stop and gasp.

“How do you know that?!”

You stop and peer back to smirk at her. “I know things,” you shrug. “I was the lady of Casterly Rock, it’s my job.”

Nyra skips towards you and hooks her arm around yours to continue walking and getting even more lost.

Nevertheless, it’s as you’re trying to navigate your way back to your chambers that you actually stumble across your husband and his brother.

Nyra spotted them first just as you were going to turn the corner and quickly yanks you back.

“What are you—”

She slaps her hand on your mouth and puts her finger against her lip to shush you and then point out to the hall.

At first you don’t understand, not until you recognize his voice.

“….she is no Valyrian or Targaryen,” you hear Aemond say. “True. I didn’t get as lucky as you, brother.”

He’s talking about you.

When you understand that you meet Nyra’s amber gaze and pull her hand off your mouth.

“No, you didn’t,” Aegon counters. “You got married to a plain looking Lannister. The handmaiden is far prettier, lay with her, or I can introduce you to some silver-haired woman if it pleases you.”

You clench your jaw and drop your gaze, and wait, actually fucking wait for Aemond to defend you, but that was foolish of you to hope for.

“My wife,” he says, “is tolerable, but it’s what her family offers that brought forth our match. Don’t forget that Aegon.”

The marriage was not one out of love, yes, but there was still some part of you, a small part within that hoped he at least found you agreeable. It isn't so, and that stung.

“It’s not for me to remember,” Aegon retorts. “Yet, that’s beside the point, marriage doesn’t mean dedication.”

Aemond scoffs and then footsteps continue to come forward, causing you and Nyra to panic and begin to stumble as you both try to turn to walk back where you had come from.

“Fuck, fuck,” you whisper and try to pull her back. “Fuck.”

However, it’s as you’re pushing yourself forward and stumbling over your own feet that Nyra accidentally pushes you to the wall. And rather than hitting it and coming to a sudden halt, the wall moves and you fall back into some hidden hall, pulling Nyra with you.

Aegon and Aemond get closer so instead of getting out Nyra and you close the wall, or the door, whatever it is and hide behind it to wait for them to pass; thanking the gods that they had dropped their conversation about you and instead Aemond seemed to be scolding his older brother. Their conversation was a bit muffled behind the wall to hear clearly.

“Did they pass?” Nyra whispers a few minutes later.

You shrug and snap back. “I don’t know, how am I meant to know?”

Nyra pushes the wall just a bit back to let you peek your head out.

“So?”

You look from side to side and see no one. Thank the gods. “It’s clear, let’s go,” you urge her and grab her hand to help her out.

Nyra pushes the wall close and lets you drag her away.

“That was close,” she whispers. “I thought I was gonna piss myself.”

You touch your chest and sigh. “Me too.”

“That was,” she brings up slowly. “Something. I wonder where those halls lead to.”

“Probably, my guess around the castle,” you share. “If only it led to my room.” You grumble. “I think we’re lost.” You let her hand go and walk in silence, guessing for the most part where to go, basing it mostly off memory and trying not to think of how deeply the Prince just wounded your pride.

Is there a point in trying to impress him any further? Sure it’s only been a few days since your marriage began, but if he found you so plain and barely tolerable then what is the point?

“I don’t think he meant it,” Nyra blurts.

Great. It’s like she’s reading your mind.

Then again much like you, that’s all she was probably thinking about since she heard him.

“What?” You act clueless.

“Prince Aemond,” she clarifies. “I mean it’s not like he’s the type of person to be all affectionate. I mean he doesn’t look it.”

You scoff and carefully fiddle with your fingers. “My marriage is one made of convenience. I’m rich, his family wants my fathers money. They want to secure our money with our marriage. That’s all it is, I’m not wounded by his words, especially not the words of his brother,” you spat.

Nyra hums and steals a look at you, catching the sad frown and obvious hurt look on your face that cracked through the feigned nonchalant expression.

“And as true as that may be, love can still grow from such a sour match,” she tries to assure you. “Only if you try.”

You quickly shoot her a narrowed look and counter. “Was it not you that said that it didn’t matter if there was love or not?”

Nyra smirks and meets your gaze. “Yes, but I’ve changed my mind.” She grabs your arm and leans towards you. “I want you to make him fall madly in love with you, my lady Lannister. Show him your wits, show him that no other woman in this world compares to you…”

The corner of your lips begin to tug to a smile but you try to play off your fluster by shaking your head and hiding your face.

“Be the badass bitch I know you are,” she continues. “Show him what he is missing.” She grins. “Be the lioness that—”

“Shut up,” you giggle.

Nyra drops her head and laughs at the floor as you turn the corner of some hall. And since you had your eyes downcasted you only barely manage to catch the pair of knights walking towards you.

The moment they stop you do too and intend to walk past them, but as you glance up you notice your beloved brave knight.

“Ser Robert,” you greet with a smile.

The old knight bows his head. “My Lady,” he says and looks at your side. “Nyra.”

Said girl smiles at the man and then can’t help but drift her eyes to the side to the knight beside Ser Robert, at the same time you do.

Your look is brief at first of course, you’re focused on your friend mostly, but then when you notice how blue his eyes are contrasted to his dark hair you take a second glance.

He’s quite charming actually. Maybe as tall as Aemond by the looks of it. Striking and a strong facial structure, a perfectly cut beard decorates his face, and mustache to accompany it. There's a cockiness in the way he stands, in his serious gaze piercing into you.

Aemond has this brooding and intimidating look that attracts you even if it shouldn’t, but this man…this talk and dark haired man is eye-catching in more of a…well, who knows really. He’s just eye-catching.

“If I may ask my Lady why is it you’re all the way out here?” Ser Robert asks and pulls your attention back to him.

“Oh,” you mouth and glance around. “To admit the embarrassing truth…” you laugh softly. “We’re quite lost. If you may, could you help us back to my chambers?” You smile sweetly.

Ser Robert smiles and nods. “Of course, it actually works out quite well. I was actually on my way to you.” He points his head forward and begins guiding Nyra and you back to your chambers.

“And why is that?” You question as you fall by his side.

Ser Robert glances at you and sighs before he focuses back on his path ahead. “We’ll speak when we reach your room.”

You look over at him and hum as you grow concerned.

“So tell me,” Ser Robert chuckles breathlessly. “How did you both manage to get lost? You’re near the training yard.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and avert your gaze. “Well,” you sigh. “We walked to the gardens. After our time there we intended to return to my room, but I think we took the wrong turn.”

“It was more the Lady’s pride that got us lost,” Nyra interjects, making you peer back to glare at her.

Ser Robert shares a hearty chuckle and rather than speaking, the other knight does. “The castle is quite big,” he says with a thicker accent, in a bit of a huskier voice. “I got lost for about a month before I managed to finally find my way around.”

“How did you find your way?” You ask with a faint smile.

The knight sighs and laughs. “Uhm, I had help for a month. A guide.”

Your smile deepens. “Well without my dear husband at my side to help,” you say with a hint of smugness. “I think I might be needing one as well, I wouldn’t want to get lost and never find my way.”

The knight scoffs in amusement. “Well whenever it pleases my Lady, I would be honored to take you on a tour so you can map the castle.”

You look at him over your shoulder and offer him a sweet smile and a nod.

Silence falls over the group soon after, but anticipation for what Ser Robert needed to talk about rose higher with each you took, and the more you recognized the halls as you got closer you got to your chambers. There were many instances where you wanted to end such silence to probe, but you knew Ser Robert wouldn’t give in so easily, so pleading would be useless. You had to wait. You did for what felt like eternity.

The moment you made it in your room, you didn’t bother to ask why the second knight walked in behind Ser Robert, your eagerness to know made you forget your manners.

“So what is it?” You ask the old knight eagerly.

Ser Robert pulls a chair back and motions you to sit, you hesitantly do so and then watch him sit across from you as Nyra serves wine to the both of you.

“Ser?” You press in his dreading silence.

The knight grabs his cup of wine, but doesn’t drink, he just looks at it and then meets your gaze and sighs deeply.

“It’s,” he finally begins to speak. “It’s your father, he’s asked me to return to Casterly Rock with him when he leaves.” He swallows thickly and you go rigid and only take a long sip of wine.

But Ser Robert was meant to be appointed to you, to stay with you. Besides Nyra, he was the only piece of home you could bring with you. Now he’s leaving. Now you wouldn’t be able to see the only parental figure you really had after your mothers death.

He’s leaving….

“But,” you mutter and put your cup down to keep meeting his gaze with anger that begins to spark within you. “He said you’d stay here with me. You said you would.” You blink and swallow thickly.

Ser Robert nods slowly and his gaze softens. “I did, but your father the Lord has requested my return, I can’t fight him.”

Of course, of course. You’re nothing compared to your father, a man, a Lord.

You grip onto your cup and nod slowly as you begin to gnaw on the inside of your cheek briefly before clenching your jaw and growing stiff and serious. “What happens now? Am I meant to fend for myself? I know I’m no princess or queen to protect, but no one here is loyal to me….” Your voice breaks even if you try to show no emotion.

“You have your uncle,” Ser Robert reminds you in a lighthearted tone to try and make you smile. But you just form a scowl on your face. “His guards.” He pushes his cup aide and leans a bit forward to get closer to you. “Prince Aemond is a great swordsman, even I admit, he’ll protect you as well.”

You scoff and drop your gaze to avoid looking at his face.

“My Lady,” he calls for your attention, but you just pull your hands back and begin tapping your finger on your cup. “Y/N.”

You slowly glance up and show your gleaming eyes, the anger that disguised your sadness.

“I would’ve preferred to stay back with you, but when your father gives a command I listen, it is my job. I’m sorry,” he shares softly and sits back. “But, I leave you in great hands. Someone I trust to look out for you.” He looks past you. “Ser Erwin Reyne.”

Footsteps approach and you catch the gleam of his armor in front of you, but you’re too angry and bothered to look at him right away.

“He’ll be at your command,” Ser Robert continues to say. “I trust him, I can vouch that he is excellent with a sword.”

You let out a deep breath and slowly drag your eyes up the young knight.

“It’s my honor to be your protector, Lady Lannister. Just as my father serves yours as a loyal bannerman, I will serve you now as your faithful protector.”

Your face softens, and you offer him a partial smile and a stiff nod.

“Reyne,” you point out. “You’re from the Westerlands? From home?” You ask.

Ser Erwin nods with a partial but proud smile of his own. “Yes. I am a fifth son to Lord Reyne.”

Your smile softens, and you do feel a sense of security at the mention that he’s from near your home. “That’s comforting,” you admit.

“Maybe it will be more comforting if you come watch me compete in the tourney at the end of the week, that they’ll have in honor of your marriage to the Prince,” Ser Erwin suggests. “You’ll be able to see if I’m worthy or not to be your protector there. If not, I won't take offense if you change your mind about me.”

Right that. Huh.

You stiffen at the reminder of what’s to come and add a tightlipped smile, even if Nyra in the back was being a tease about this interaction.

“That’s right,” you say and avert your gaze. “I will see you there, hm.” You slide your hands down to your lap and spare a side glance at Ser Robert. “But if Ser Robert says he trusts you…then there is nothing for me to see, I take his word, I trust you too Ser.”

The young knight nods and his smile turns softer and grows wider. “Thank you my Lady, you honor me. Still it would bring me a sense of pleasure to see you at the tourney.”

You scoff and smirk. “It is in the honor of my marriage, so I’ll be there.” You share a quick and knowing glance with Nyra and then hide your cocky smirk by drinking wine.

When you set your cup down and return your gaze to Ser Robert, he stands up and bows his head. “We’ll talk later my Lady, I’ll leave now that I’ve shared the news.”

You nod stiffly as you keep your eyes averted, and watch Ser Erwin bow his head before he follows Ser Robert out of your room, leaving the room silent for a moment until Nyra reaches the table.

“It would be his pleasure,” Nyra mocks you with a growing smug smile. “I’m sure it would,” she giggles and grabs a cup of wine.

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile.

“Now, now what would your dear husband say about the switch to a much dapper, and stronger knight?” Nyra keeps teasing.

“What would he say?” You retort. “Nothing. I'm no silver-haired woman, remember. I’m just tolerable.” You take a drink of your wine and grow serious again.

Nyra rolls her eyes at your snide but then sits back and crosses her leg over the other as a smirk tugs on her face. “We’ll see won’t we?”

——

*DAYS LATER*

“Okay, Nyra,” you say as you smooth out your flowy black dress and walk out to your room. “How about this one, hm? It’s easy to take off and has both…” you trail off as you look up and catch Aemond standing in front of the door.

“Oh,” you swallow thickly from shock. “Husband,” you greet and share a quick nervous glance with Nyra.

“I’m here to escort you to the tourney,” he breaks his silence and clasps his hands behind him.

Your eyes slightly widen as you nod. “Alright, I was just debating what to wear.”

“You’ve had the entire day,” he quips, making you grow serious, and slightly furrow your eyebrows.

“And you’re not a woman,” you snap back and turn around to debate between the black dress you're wearing that’s really open in the cleavage area but accompanied with a silk golden bralette, or a more covered golden and red dress.

“You put on a suit and call it a day, people don’t turn their heads, but I am a lady, highborn at that,” you continue with confidence, even if his stance alone was a bit frightening. “They expect a lot from me.”

“Who gives a shit what people think,” Aemond interjects, and you scoff lightheartedly before you turn on your heels and meet his gaze with a pointed glare.

“I do. I am giving them what they want, and exceeding at that everytime,” you add and watch Aemond lift his head before he just hums as his eye remains pierced on you.

“Alright Nyra,” you sigh and glance at her, catching her eyes widened in surprise and her lips twitching to a smirk—“The one I have on, or the red dress?”

Nyra lets out a deep breath and opens her mouth to voice her final opinion, but Aemon interjects in that moment with his.

“The one you have on,” he says, causing your stomach to churn and your heart to skip a beat, whilst Nyras jaw drops.

You draw in a deep breath and nod stiffly. “Okay,” you breathe out. “Thank you.” You hang the other dress up and face him again. “I’m finished, we may go now.”

As you walk out of your room, you walk at Aemond’s side, and before you can get out, you share a knowing glance with Nyra that makes her depart from your side to walk the opposite way. Leaving just Aemond and you alone.

It isn’t awkward, silent but not uncomfortable, it’s just tense…with what you know he said about you, and the fact that he kept looking over at you like if he wanted to say something—or well who knows really, he’s hard to read.

“So, husband,” you break the silence. “Will you be competing at the tourney today?”

Aemond scoffs right away. “No. Tourneys are shit, I’m only attending because it’s required of me.”

You hum. “I think tourneys are quite exciting,” you share even if he didn’t ask. “Watching men’s ego break once they get beaten down is the funniest thing.” You smirk.

Aemond slowly looks over at you and then scoffs.

As you hear him, you look over at him and meet his gaze, noticing the corner of his lips upturned to a very faint smirk.

Rather than ignoring him, you can’t help but smile at him for a brief second before you look away so as to avoid feeling…everything that your heart is currently feeling. The rush of emotions that rush in your heart and mind. That’s why you choose to walk the rest of the way to the tourney in silence. Thankfully as well, you met your uncle Ser Tyland, so he filled most of the silence with nonsense you didn’t bother to care about since your mind was occupied on something else entirely.

Once the tourney started, as knights began to jouste against each other you did have a brief moment of distraction after one knight fell off his horse and began to fight the other; the knight was so wounded by the fact that he had been knocked off on the first attempt that he went to pull the other knight off his horse to begin beating him up. However, the other knight got the upper hand and beat him in combat too.

It was funny seeing the knight get so weepy and upset.

“And they say women are emotional,” you murmur under your breath with an amused smile on your face.

Aemond catches your comment and looks over at you and catches your smile over the interaction. He doesn’t say anything of course, or do anything, he just recalls your conversation and finds your smile quite amusing, whereas others would find your smile cruel because the knights were beating each other, especially more so because you’re a lady.

Nevertheless, after that match ended you began to grow worried and even more nervous for what was to come. More than before. Thankfully Nyra arrives and helps ease your current anxiety, most of it anyway.

“Ready,” she whispers.

You don’t look at her and just give her hand a gentle squeeze as you watch the current match.

And since the match is quite short and boring, it ends quickly, leaving you with your chance to take a short leave.

“I’ll return,” you announce to Aemond as you get up.

He keeps his eye on the contenders and just hums as a response while Nyra follows after you out of the audience box.

“Where is it?” You ask while you bounce on one foot as you’re taking off one shoe and walking down rows of tents.

“Ugly tan tent at the fifth row,” she says quickly and rushes you towards it.

You proceed to hurry up and struggle to pull off your other shoe. Once you reach the intended tent, Nyra shoves you in, snatches your boots to throw them aside, and begins loosening the strings on your dress so you can slip it off.

“Oh, by the bloody gods,” you complain as you run to your bag on the table to begin pulling out shiny light gold armor pieces. “I’ve never had to do this so quickly.”

Nyra rushes to your side and dumps the bag out to begin helping you put on your chainmail.

“I told you, stop this foolish activity, but no,” she grumbles. “You insist on keeping up this ruse.”

You smile down at the armor you’re putting on now and quip. “And you’re doing what exactly?”

“Helping,” she retorts. “Or else without me you’d be caught. You’d get in trouble and be shamed for the rest of your life. But this time maybe your husband would feed you to his dragon.”

You scoff softly and smile over at her. “I think that would be a pretty fun way to die,” you tease.

Nyra snaps her eyes over to you to shoot you a glare and snap back. “You better win this damned match.”

You grow serious and sigh. “Let’s hope. If I die at least I’ll be relieved from my match.”

Nyra finishes attaching the pieces of armor in record time and leaves you to put on your boots.

“Okay,” you roll out and shove your foot in. “I’m ready. Pray for me.” You get up and put on your helmet before you rush out of the tent and run to your horse.

“Hello there,” you greet the white horse as you carefully pet his neck. “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt you.”

“You’re late, Knight,” the man with the lance and shield says.

You pull your hand away from the horse, and simply hum before you climb on your white horse and snatch the lance and shield from his hand. You then ride the horse to the field where you wait at the other end of your competitor.

“Now, Ser Moore from High Garden will compete against…the No Name Knight!” The announcer shouts to the crowd.

You roll your shoulders back and take one glance at the audience box, spotting your ever so beloved husband sitting and watching with no emotion, right by his brother who seems far more entertained. What would Aemond say if he knew you were under the light gold armor? That you were the No name Knight?

He said not to care what people think, but would he think the same if people talked about you, his wife?

Your father and step mother would be pissed to say the least. You had to wonder what he’d say? What would he do?

“…set, go!” The announcer catches you off guard.

You secure your grip around the reins, and loosen your tight grip around your lance before you encourage the horse to sprint forward, towards your competitor.

The moment your horse moves, time moves rather quickly, but for a spare second as you breathe out, time moves slowly; you drop your gaze and catch the knight shifting his shield just an inch above his abdomen that he leaves open enough for the right target.

With that in mind you tilt your lance and look back at him, noticing him tilt his lance up towards more of your neck and face region. You don’t shift your shield up however, you keep it where it is, and as the point of his lance comes near, you throw your head back and see it swing over your face as you miss getting hit.

On the other hand, you. You jab your lance into your target you had spotted and manage to knock him off his horse with one blow.

The people cheer and clap for you whilst you bring your horse to a slow pace as you reach the other end of the field. It’s hard not to rejoice in the commotion towards your victory, you usually don’t like to be excited when you compete in them at home, but there’s way more people here, it’s louder, it’s hard not to at least smile with pride as you climb off your horse.

“See,” you whisper to the horse. “You didn't get—”

“Sword!” The other knight yells and makes you stiffen.

“Ser Moore has chosen to continue in a contest of arms!” The announcer shouts.

Some worker runs up to you and hands you a borrowed sword, you take it hesitantly and slowly turn to face an angered knight storming towards you.

Usually it’s far more entertaining watching this unfold than actually being a part of it.

“Shit,” you murmur and begin to slowly meet the knight halfway.

“You fucking cunt,” the Knight sneers and swings his sword at your neck. You parry however and spin behind him.

As he begins to turn you swing your sword at his legs, making him move his shield down and leaving you with the chance to kick him down. He proceeds to curse up a storm as he falls back, letting you run up to him to point your sword at his neck so he’d yield.

Nevertheless, just as you stride over to him he pulls out his sword and swings up before you can move your shield, managing to gash your hand, ripping the strap of your shield and cutting straight through your glove and your skin.

“Fuck,” you wince and stumble back as your shield falls.

The knight pushes himself and runs up to you, he swings his sword on your face and kicks you down to the ground, making sure to quickly climb over you to try and press the side of his sword against your neck.

You however, let your sword go and grab his wrists to try and push him off. Albeit the knight is stronger and pushes down harder. He’s going to cut through your neck, but you quickly swing the tip of his own sword up to him and smack his face over and over again until he lets go and lets you kick him off you.

Even if your hand hurts and blood begins to trickle down the gash on your palm, you turn and push yourself off the ground to swipe your sword off the ground, and then snatch his in the process to walk over to him with heavy pants and trap his neck with both swords.

“I,” he hesitates, “I yield!”

The crowd booms with excitement and you scoff softly under your helmet before throwing the swords aside and striding off with pride. You don’t even bother to look over at Aemond, you know he’d still be bored, you just walk back to the end you had ran through and collect your bag of money before returning to your tent with no words ever spoken to anyone.

“I saw,” Nyra says as you barge into the tent. “Congratulations.”

You pull your helmet off and smile at her before you hand the bag of money to her for her to keep. Like all the other times. “Here.”

Her eyes linger on you and she doesn’t fight against you anymore. She’s done so many other times, but she knew you wouldn't keep it, you already had so much money that you didn’t know what to do with, you had no need for pocket money as Nyra calls it.

“The bastard cut me,” you sneer as you pull off your armor in a hurry.

Nyra rushes over to you to help you undress and pulls your hand towards her. “We’ll stitch it once we return to the room, for now I’ll just wrap it.”

You nod in agreement. “That’s what I was thinking too,” you say between pants. “I’ll tell him, I cut myself—”

“He won’t notice,” Nyra blurts.

You meet her gaze and can’t help but agree. As harsh as her comment sounded. “Right.” You focus back on removing your armor.

Since it’s two of you working at the same time, and you’ve done this multiple times, you take off your armor quickly and remove your chainmail even quicker to then slip back in your dress.

Before you can return though, Nyra wraps your cut tightly so the wound would stop bleeding. “Just hide it and you’ll be okay. Don’t move it too much.”

You nod as you plop the sweat off your face. “I know,” you assure her.

Nyra ties the wrap and you finish at the same time, so you then rush back to the audience box. And Aemond as expected doesn’t bother to ask questions or even look over at you.

“What did I miss?” You ask him as you grab your cup of water.

Aemond scoffs. “Nothing worth mentioning,” he mutters and steals a glance at you without you noticing as you focus on the next contender in shiny golden armor riding towards the audience box.

“Lady y/n Lannister!” The golden knight exclaims, making you sit up straight and lean forward, whilst Aemond shifts up and watches closer.

The knight takes off his helmet and reveals himself to be Ser Erwin Reyne.

“I would humbly ask for your favor.”

The corner of your lips tug to a soft smile as you reach for a flower crown laying on your side. Yet, as you reach over you feel a sharp pain from your wounded hand, and have to quickly pull your hand away to hide it in between the ruffles of your dress before you walk to the edge to throw the flowers on his lance. “I wish you good fortune, Ser Erwin.”

The Golden Knight offers you a charming smile and bows his head. “Thank you, my Lady, I hope today's match eases your doubt.”

You beam at him and return to your spot to watch with more curiosity than you had for any other match. While Aemond clenches his jaw and narrows his eye on Ser Erwin after sharing a brief look with his brother.

“Who is that?” Aegon asks as he leans over his brother to question you.

You briefly glance at him so as to not miss the match.

“A knight from the Westerlands. My new appointed knight.”

Aegon shares a taunting smirk with his brother, and Aemond just ignores him but keeps his eye pierced on Ser Erwin as the match starts.

Unlike with your match, Ser Erwin urges his brown horse forward towards his competitor and they both miss, making them both turn for another round.

Your heart races with excitement, and you have to lift your head to watch more intently.

Now Ser Erwin fixes his grip on his lance and drops his shoulders before making his horse sprint forward again. This time he shifts his lance up a few inches and as he’s about to pass the other knight he lunges his lance forward.

The force of his jab is so strong that the point rams through the knight's throat, knocking him immediately off his horse and taking Ser Erwin’s lance with him as his limp body falls on the ground.

The crowd cheers and claps for Ser Erwin’s victory, and you grin and push yourself off your seat to clap once, but end up wincing and hiding your reaction by shifting your hand to clap lightly on the upper level of your hand.

You think no one notices your quick reaction to your pain, and no one does, no one except for Aemond. He catches the sound of your quiet complaint and immediately notices the bandage wrapped around your hand that wasn’t there before. Not when they first got here, nor when he was in your room.

It could’ve been done when you were away for that long period of time, but he then remembers The No Name knight that fought when you were gone and recalls how they got their palm cut on the same hand your bandage was.

You weren’t sweaty, or dirty, and now that’s thinking about it more thoroughly, your handmaiden wasn’t with you at the start, she came during the middle of the match and you left soon after she got here. You came back and she wasn’t with you again, and one thing he’s definitely noticed since you got here is that you were both inseparable.

Couldn’t be a coincidence.

Hm.

He’s intrigued now more than you know.

Tagged: @winter-soldier-101 @whateverooooooo

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