Under the shadow provided by the leaves of the heart tree, in the old godswood of Winterfell, Aemon could lay down, close his eyes and pretend that everything was alright, that nothing would change, even though he knew that to be a lie, a mere illusion born of a desperate mind.
In a moon or two, Aemon would have to leave the North behind, bid farewell to one of the few places that had brought him any semblance of peace, and make the long journey back south to the stifling and treacherous life of King's Landing.
King Rhaegar had apparently requested his presence at court. The letter the rider had given him hadn't mentioned the reason, but Aemon knew that his father most likely wanted him back in town to discuss one particular matter: marriage.
For years, the king had tried without any success to find him a suitable match for someone of his station. Arianne Martell, Desmera Redwyne, Ysilla Royce, among many more noble ladies had been the candidates that his father had considered the most promising prospects, but, for one reason or another, none had materialized.
Aemon had come to think that he might have to wait longer than expected before taking a wife, which didn't really bother him, to say the truth, but if his father had finally found someone, then his life in the North was most likely about come to an end.
He sighed. The day had to come sooner or later, he supposed. His only wish was that, whoever his wife was, the two of them could at least come to respect one another. The last thing he wanted was to marry someone who would make him unhappy.
Aemon was about to drift off to sleep when the faint sound of footsteps alerted him. At first he thought it might be one of his male cousins, or perhaps his uncle, Lord Stark, even if both possibilities were unlikely at the present time, but after a few moments Aemon saw the owner of the steps out of the corner of his eye, approaching him.
"What are you doing here, little cousin?", he asked with a smile.
"I've been looking for you all morning", Arya told him. She was quite upset, judging by the tone of her voice. "I thought you had left the castle".
Aemon shrugged. "You thought wrong".
Arya frowned. "We were supposed to practice again before sunset. You promised me".
"Yes, cousin, I haven't forgotten".
"Then why are you still here?".
"I was resting my eyes", Aemon explained. "I feel terribly exhausted. I need a moment to regain my strength". It was true; the letter had drained some of his vigor, ridiculous as it might sound. Returning to King's Landing was a disturbing enough thought for anyone who knew how horrible the city truly was.
"This had better be quick," Arya told him, sitting down below the shade of the heart tree, just a few steps from him.
Aemon laughed and closed his eyes again. "We'll see".
His cousin's interest in learning to use a sword was certainly curious; most girls her age were interested in dancing, or singing, or getting married. Men's activities were hardly to the liking of most ladies. Yet, Aemon didn't mind. Quite the opposite, in fact. Arya's personality was one of the things he liked most about her, even if, admittedly, said her personality got her into unnecessary trouble more often than not.
Almost half an hour had passed when Aemon finally decided to get up and indulge Arya. They both went deeper into the godswood, to a somewhat dark nook that for the last few moons had become their private training courtyard, where a pair of blunted swords awaited them, hidden among the roots of an ancient, enormous oak tree.
"I hope you can give me more of a challenge this time", Aemon told his cousin, handing her one of the swords. "Otherwise, I'll have to fight with one hand tied behind my back, to make things more even".
Arya gave him a shove. "Shut up, stupid".
Aemon couldn't help but smile. "As you wish, cousin".
They had always been close. Since they first had met, some long years ago, his cousin had grown used to follow him around, trying to imitate his habits, and asking him countless questions about his life in the south and whether he had ever seen a real dragon.
Once, Arya even had approach him and asked him if he really was a Targaryen.
Through his mother, Aemon had inherited the long face, brown hair, and grey eyes of House Stark, with no noticeable trace of his father's Valyrian coloring. Perhaps that was the reason why she had become so close to him.
Nevertheless, Aemon had laughed and explained to her that such things meant little, pointing out that her own siblings had inherited the auburn hair and blue eyes of the Tullys, and how that didn't mean she wasn't her father's daughter.
"I suppose you are right", Arya had told him, full of childlike innocence.
"I always am", Aemon replied with smile, messing up her hair and inviting her to come see him spar with Robb in the courtyard, if she felt brave enough.
Those had been happier days, in retrospect. Days of laughter, games, and mischiefs, when the woes and worries of being a legitimized prince felt no more real than a fleeting summer dream.
As soon as they began their dance, as they sometimes mockingly called their little sword pratices, Aemon realized that Arya had no intention of holding back; she charged at him and tried thrusting her sword against his belly. He stepped back just in time to avoid the touch of the blade, but Arya continued her lunge, trying to press her attack, yet, luckily, always missing her mark by mere inches. Overcoming his initial surprise, Aemon used his sword to block and deflect a pair of troublesome slashes, and then moved to his left, making sure to use his right foot to knock her off balance.
Arya fell face first to the ground, and for a moment Aemon worried he had accidentlly hurt her, but upon hearing his cousin's complaints about how that had been a dirty trick and not at all fair, he simply laughed.
"I never said I was going to fight fair", Aemon told her, helping her up off the ground. "You should have been more careful. You were so focused on attacking me that you lowered your guard for a few moments. Had this been a real fight, you would have died". Noticing how embarrassed she looked, he smiled at her. "Still, that was quite an effort. You were quite fast. For a moment I actually thought you would hit me".
"Truly?", Arya asked, souding almost hopeful.
Aemon messed up her hair. "Truly, cousin. You did well. Who knows? Perhaps in a few years you'll surpass me, if I am not careful. Now, come on. That was just the beginning. We have some more time before darkness falls".
They both kept practicing for a while under the cover of the godswood, always being careful not to make any more noise than was necessary, before deciding to stop. It was growing late and it surely wouldn't take long before everyone in the castle began to wonder where they were. The last thing Aemon wanted was to raise suspicions.
"Do you think we could practice again before you go back to King's Landing?", his cousin asked, hiding the swords among the roots. "Once you are gone, I won't be able to do this again."
"Don't say that", Aemon told her. "We'll see each other again sooner than you expect, I promise". He was lying, but Arya didn't need to know that. "Besides, you can still practice and hone your skills by yourself. It won't be as good as having a sparring partner, true, but it should still be useful. You have the talent to become quite skilled with a sword. All you need is the will to see it through".
Aemon could've sworn he saw Arya blush. "You really think so?".
"I sure do", he said, messing up her hair again. "Now, let's go back. It's getting late, and I don't want people to start searching for us".
"There is no hurry", Arya said. "We still have some time left".
Aemon raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why are you so sure of that?".
"Father said he and Robb and Bran wouldn't be back before nightfall, remember?" She was right, Aemon had to admit. "And Rickon was playing around the broken tower when I left him".
"What about Lady Stark and Rhaenys?".
"I told them I wanted to explore the castle on my own, and that I would return before supper". Arya shrugged. "They seemed fine with the idea".
I seriously doubt that. "Then what do you want to do? Do you want to keep practicing? I am sorry to dissapoint it to you, cousin, but I feel rather tired. I am in no mood to continue our little dance".
"We could always swim in the pool by the heart tree", Arya suggested.
"Swim in the pool?". Aemon struggled not to snort. "Why in the seven hells would I want to do that?".
"Because we are dirty and sweaty, stupid", Arya told him, as if that wasn't obvious. "Don't you want to wash yourself?".
"Since when do you care about that?", Aemond asked her. "Weren't you the one who always used to get herself covered in mud and moss?".
Arya's habit of getting her dresses dirty every time she played had always irritated Lady Catelyn, who had scolded her numerous times, telling her that such attitude was unladylike.
"That doesn't mean I don't enjoy bathing, or washing myself", Arya protested. "Besides, it will be fun. We can play and race in the water, like we used to do when Rickon was just a baby".
"I'm not going to swim in the pool with you", Aemon said.
"Why not?".
"Because I am not going to let you see me naked".
"I've seen you naked many times before!".
"That was years ago, Arya", Aemon pointed out. "I was but a boy, and you just little girl. Things are different now, as you can surely see". He had been a man grown since six years ago, and his cousin had become a woman the previous moon.
"What does that have to do with anything? It's not like we are going to do anything bad".
"Perhaps not", Aemon granted, "but it is improper for a man and a woman to see each other naked if they are not husband and wife". Aemon knew some people thought different, but it seemed Arya didn't. "If you want to swim in the pool, that is fine by me, but I will not be here to watch over you".
Aemon turned to leave, but Arya grabbed his arm.
"Please, don't go", she pleaded. "I just want us to spend some time together before you leave".
"We spend lots of time together", Aemon reminded her, turning back around to face. "Are our secret dancing lessons not enough for you, then?".
Arya bit her lip. "I didn't say that. I just...".
Aemon sighed. "I think we best go back inside the castle, Arya. Right now, swimming is not something that I fancy".
"Just this one time, Aemon", she begged, looking into his eyes. "I won't be mad if you go, but I would like us to play in the pool one last time before we say goodbye. Please".
Aemon sighed again. "Arya...".
"Please, Aemon".
Seven hells... "Very well, then", he said. "I'll indulge you". Arya smiled and rushed forward to hug him. "But this had better be quick".
"We'll see", Arya replied.
Sometimes, Aemon wondered why it was so difficult for him to say 'no' to her. Even when they were children, Arya always had a way to make him feel guilty when he tried to deny her anything. Exactly how she did it, though, was still a mystery to him.
They both reached the small pool located in front of the heart tree and, after making sure no one was around, Aemon told Arya to take off her clothes as fast as she could while he turned around, so as to keep watching in case anyone came… and to avoid seeing her completely bare before him.
"What is the matter?", she asked him. "Is there something wrong?".
"Finish undressing and go in the pool", Aemon said. "Come on, be quick about it".
"I'm trying," Arya told him, "but these stupid laces won't let me. Would you mind helping me with them?".
"Yes, I would".
"Fine", Arya said. "I don't need your stupid help, anyway".
Aemon didn't dare turn around until he heard the sound of Arya's body plunging into the pool. She seemed quite happy in the water, though, judging by the smile on her face, and Aemon wondered exactly how long it had been since he had last seen her swim. It must have been almost ten years ago, if his memory was accurate, around the time Rickon had learned how to walk.
"What are you waiting for, Aemon?", Arya asked him, droplets of water running down her hair and face. "Get in the water. Are you going to just stand there?".
"Turn around first", Aemon told her.
"What?".
"You heard me. Turn around".
"Why? Are you shy?".
"I already told you why, Arya. Turn around, or I will leave".
Arya frowned and said: "Fine". She did as she was told. "Are you happy now? Should I close my eyes, too?".
"That wouldn't hurt", Aemon noted. "Do it".
"You are not serious".
"I am. Close your eyes, too".
"You are being a big baby, you know?". Arya let out an annoyed sigh. "There, I closed my eyes. Could you please hurry and enter the pool?".
I must be a bloody idiot. Aemon began taking off his clothes as fast as he could, keeping his gaze on Arya in case she tried to turn away. He trusted his cousin, but sometimes her curiosity got the better of her.
Once he was finished, Aemon quickly jumped into the pool. The water felt good, he had to concede, neither too cold nor too hot. He had almost forgotten how good it felt resting in the pool, letting his muscles relax after a somewhat dull but exhausting day.
"Are you done?", Arya asked him.
"I am", Aemon replied, noticing his cousin's bare shoulders , and the way the water made them glisten in the late afternoon sunlight.
"¿Can I open my eyes and turn around, then?".
Aemon waited a moment before answering. "Yes, you can".
Aemon stood near one of the edges of the pool, watching as Arya swam from one end to the other, just as easily as she used to when she was a little girl. Watching her closely, Aemon noticed how much his cousin's body had changed in a few years. The curves and lines of her neck and back were much more prominent now, and the silhouette of her breasts could almost be seen underwater every time she stopped and turned her body in his direction.
Perhaps Arya's dancing lessons had had something to do with the way her body had matured. Her cousin had always been a skinny, flat-chested girl, and in some ways she still was, but looking at her now, Aemon saw how her muscles stood out every time she moved. Arya would certainly become a beautiful lady, he realized, almost laughing at the memory of her asking him if she was pretty, just some days after her eighth name day.
Aemon's thoughts were interrupted when Arya approached him with a mischievous smile, stopping, perhaps, a couple of feet from him before splashing water on his face, some of it entering his nose, burning his nostrils.
"Seven hells, Arya!", Aemon cursed. "What are you trying to do?".
"What is wrong?", Arya asked, faking concern. "Did I hurt you?".
"That wasn't funny," Aemon told her, blowing his nose in a fruitless effort to stop the awful sensation. "We are not children anymore".
"Are you angry?".
"Of course I am.".
"What are you going to do about it, then?" Arya asked, before going underwater and swimming to the opposite end.
Aemon chased after her, knowing full well that in doing so he was falling for her foolish game. Sometimes, Arya could be a bloody pain in the arse. It was moments like this that made him think, if only for an instant, that perhaps Lady Catelyn was right about her daughter. Perhaps Arya really needed to learn how to behave more properly.
After a few brief but frustrating moments, which Arya used to mock and tease him, Aemon finally cornered her against the pool.
"I hope that was worth it", he told her, closing the distance between them. If his gesture made her nervous, Arya certainly wasn't showing any signs of it.
"It was just a silly joke, Aemon", she said with a smile, looking into his eyes, as if trying to make him angrier.
"A silly joke, indeed", Aemon agreed, getting even closer to her, until their faces were mere inches apart. "I told you, Arya: we are not children anymore. You must stop behaving like one".
Arya bit her lips, her eyes still locked with his. "Yes, I know that. I just thought...".
Aemon could feel Arya's warm breath on his face, and the sensation of her legs brushing lightly underwater against his. Arya's smile had disappeared and her mischievous look had turned into one of... confusion? Awe? Aemon began to wonder what was going through her mind at that moment.
"Never mind", he told her, his voice suddenly uneven. "We... we should go back...".
"Yes", Arya agreed, "we probably should".
Yet, it seemed neither of them wanted to make the first move. Both just stayed there looking at each other's eyes, grey staring into grey, as if seeing one another for the first time. There was something that just kept them there, a sense of... fascination, perhaps? Looking closely, Aemon was stunned to realize how beautiful Arya's face truly was. In just mere moments, his cousin had turned into a real beauty, right before him.
"I think our legs are touching", she told him.
"I'm sorry", Aemon said. "I'll move...".
"No, don't". Arya was blushing now. "I think I like it...".
Aemon felt his cock hardening, and a most awful sense of shame and guilty came over him, mixed with an improper desire to reach out and touch her face. All his life, she had always been his little cousin. Skinny, willful Arya Underfoot. Why was he even thinking about caressing her?
"We better go now", he said, slowly backing away from her. This could not go on. "I'll turn around and close my eyes while you get dressed. Come on, we don't have much time".
Few words were exchanged on their way back, something that had never happened since they had begun their so-called dancing lessons. They always used to talk about anything while leaving the godswood. Why was this time so different from the others?
Aemon gave Arya a sideways glace, trying to study her face. His cousin seemed focused on the path ahead, though her cheeks were still flushed. He had never meant to embarrass her, and a part of him was telling him that this was all his fault. If only he hadn't agreed to swim with Arya, if only he had simply told her 'no', the awfully awkward moment could have been avoided.
What if she told Lord Eddard or Lady Catelyn what had happened? What if she later claimed that swimming naked in the pool had been his idea? What if she decided not to talk to him anymore?
He would never dare try to take advantage of the affection his cousin had for him, never. Aemon would rather join the Night's Watch than allow that happen... but Arya didn't know that. If she somehow believed that...
Arya's eyes left the trail for a moment and met his. Seeing the strange look on her face, Aemon began thinking the worst, but when she smiled sheepishly at him, the feeling of dread inside him started to vanish.
"We'll be there soon", she told him, her eyes once again focusing on the ever darkening ground.
"Yes, we will," Aemon replied. "Just before dusk, it would seem".
Leaving the godswood behind, Aemon advised Arya that it would be best to part ways to avoid suspicion. In the end, they both decided that he would go to the broken tower and wait hidden there for the arrival of Lord Stark and the rest, while she would go find Lady Stark and Rhaenys as soon as possible.
"Aemon", Arya said, just before leaving.
"Yes?".
"Do you think we could swim again tomorrow?", she asked him, lowering her voice to a barely distinguishable whisper.
Aemon knew that was a bad idea, a foolish idea. He had barely managed to stop himself before doing something reckless back in the pool. Pushing his luck twice was as stupid as it was dangerous. All it would take would be him losing his wits for an instant to soil the honor of both House Stark and House Targaryen, and ruin the uneasy peace for which his father and his uncle had struggle so long to obtain.
Even so...
"Very well", Aemon said, feeling defeated, ashamed, and excited, all at once. "But we best be careful".
Arya smiled. "Of course, Aemon".