ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀᴇʀ- ᴀᴍᴀʀᴀ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ x ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

[017]

[𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣]
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

—AMARA STOOD FROM HER BED, NOT BELIEVING the words that had left Lord Stark's mouth. She didn't want to believe that he was asking her for help, about a mystical creature that had only been heard throughout tales from when she was growing up.

She used to hear her mother tell her fairytales that her grandfather told her when she was Amara's age, and when her brothers became slightly nervous of the creature, Amara became interested. She wanted to do nothing more than to claim one for herself, and fly it throughout Westeros.

Amara blinked at Cregan and frowned at him. She opened her mouth to speak before an eager knocking was heard on the wooden door behind Cregan.

Amara shut her mouth into a white thin line, and casted Cregan a quick glance before she strolled past him to the doors. She opened it slightly, causing the creaking to grow louder.

She inhaled a sharp breath at the sight of Aemond Targaryen frowning down at her. "What do you want now, Aemond?" Asked Amara quickly.

He was clearly wondering why she wasn't opening the door fully, and why she was acting so skeptical. "What are you doing?" He then questioned her inching forward towards the entrance.

"Nothing," She rushed out of her mouth. She swiftly backed up, closing the door a bit more so he could see less of her and her face. Amara was starting to panic; realizing how inappropriate it would be if Cregan was caught in her bedroom alone with her.

Aemond tilted his head at her, with the deepest frown possible not believing any of her bullshit. He scoffed at her and shifted in his stance.

"Then don't mind if I do—" he spoke as he laid his hand on the door and pushed it open with a strong force, which took Amara back, her expression full of surprise.

Aemond immediately paused his steps when he saw the strong bearded man who stood in the middle of her room firmly with his hand behind his back. He gave the prince a swift nod and bowed slightly before him.

Amara let her head drop, facing the ground and shut her eyes with a tired sigh. She then lazily shut the door with a loud thud that didn't seem to affect Aemond as he was simply watching the Lord Stark who stood in the middle of the room.

Amara rolled her eyes, making an annoyed gesture with her hands. "You cannot just barge into my room like you own it!" She spat at Aaemond, who didn't even consider turning around to face her.

"But he can?" Snarled the Targaryen.

Cregan then frowned at him, and glanced over at Amara before back at Aemond. "I can assure you, my prince nothing has happened."

"And I trust nothing will."

Amara scrunched her entire face up at his snarky comment, with his possessive tone. She wondered what made him almost angry that Cregan was in her room.

Amara let out a chuckle of disbelief, and looked to the ceiling. "I don't know what your imagination is making you think, but it's not what it is perceived as, Aemond."

Aemond turned his head slightly in her direction, though his eyes were still on Cregan. "What is it then?"

"It's—" She stuttered, not knowing wether or not she could tell him about the ice-dragons, so she stopped herself abruptly and pulled her lips into a thin line. "Something . . . I cannot tell you." She gulped.