The True and The Brave

𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔞 𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫

Aemond laid with her, seeing the morning seep through the beach, bleeding into the calm waters. Aemma had unlatched herself from the thin linen sheet that covered their naked bodies. They had claimed each other over and over again, as if a farewell wouldn't be enough to satiate their's hearts' demands. Aemma kissed his shoulders softly as Aemond groaned, his hand tracing patterns on her naked stomach.

"We have to get ready, Aemond", she whispered.

Had hoped this moment would never come. Had hoped that her Uncle Vaemond's ambition never had blinded him. It was a flaw of the Velaryon. But Aemma had grown to know when it was best to relinquish it, her husband being partly to thank. Aemond turned his head humming dully before shifting in their makeshift beds of cushions that they had concocted on the privacy of their beach.

"I know, my love, I just don't want to let you go. I will be there. The children will stay here with Ser Steffon, Serscha, and Maester Brohnn. I promised to never leave your side. To never let anything separate me from you".

Aemma smiled, tracing the curves of his lips, the scar on his eye, gently tracing around the aventurine gemstone that gleamed a bright sea green with the reflecting morning sun.

"I'm afraid, Aemond. If anything happens—"

"I know, my fireheart", he said, his voice a gentle tone, gentler than she was used to. He suddenly kneeled in front of her, his naked chest almost glimmering with the reflection of the sun behind it, "but I won't let anything happen to you. Our children need you. I need you".

"What if I fail, again? What if I am not strong enough?"

Aemond closed his eyes, as if wanted to bask in all her memories, in engraving her face in his mind, "you won't fail, and you have never failed me or our children. You are the strongest woman I've ever known, Aemma. You are brave and fierce. I believe you can do this. We can do this".

Aemma closed her eyes, leaning on his chest. Whatever happened, they would go together. Would survive together. Would die together. He refused to live in a world where his Aemma was not next to him.

"Come, up you go, my fireheart. We'll do this together"

"To whatever end", Aemma sighed, connecting their foreheads.

Aemma glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She had the armor that her grandfather had gifted her. Aemond had been here to help strap her shoulder plate in place, coming from behind her to fasten the silver and sea green breastplate. Aemma felt as if she was going to war, as if she was about to drop into the Stepsons. As if sensing her inner turmoil, Aemond kissed the column of her neck as he strapped the belt with Elēnār in it. She turned to hold his face. Aemond pressed his face to her palm. He could not lose her.

Ser Criston Cole knocked on the door of her chambers. He had been permitted leave by the queen to train Aemma. His white cloak did not move. Almost as if nothing moved. Not a single leaf. Not a single gust of wind. Everything stayed unmoving. As if Aemma was the only one moving and leaving things right where they left them.

"Princess Aemma, Prince Aemond. It is almost time", Ser Criston said, pushing the door open for them.

"Ser Criston, I believe I owe you my gratitude. I know we've never seen past our differences, but I thank you for this. If I may ask one last thing of you..."

Cole eyed Aemond, as if he had been confused by her request. Criston had only come here to train her. To properly regain her strength. There were no conversations between them. Only the clash of steel and the unwind of long-retained tensions.