The Prince and His Flower

O N E

Aemma sat under a tree to shade herself from the glaring sun as she watched her brothers spar with their father in the training yard. She looked down at her book about the history of Aegon of Conqueror and sighed. It truly bored her to the point where she would rather watch Luke lose to Jace over and over. Luke huffed in frustration as Jace beat him yet again.

"Don't be too hard on yourself Luke. You may not have the strength, but you are smaller and therefore more agile. Use that to your advantage." Laenor placed a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder and smiled. Luke adjusted his stance to allow for better movement and Jace readied his wooden sword. 

As Aemma watched her brothers and father, she suddenly felt the sensation of her vision blackening. Her breath quickened as she shut her eyes. Images flashed wildly behind her eyelids, clouds, a dragon, and blood. Watch your back in the clouds, for they cloak the Stranger.

Aemma's eyes flew open as she felt sweat dribble off her forehead. She wiped it away and calmed her breathing as she looked over to Luke, admiring his desire to improve. 

"Engage!" Laenor sighed as he watched Luke forget everything he was just taught about proper footwork. His gaze turned to his daughter, who was watching from under her tree. He smiled and waved at her, giving Aemma all the encouragement she needed to abandon her lessons as she set the book down and gathered her skirts, making her way over. 

Aemma loved training with her brothers, and she was a rather quick learner, surpassing Luke very quickly, much to his dismay. It had taken many long nights of arguing between Laenor and Rhaenyra before she relented, allowing Aemma to train with her brothers on one condition: she cannot abandon her lessons, and with that, Aemma took up the sword.

"Father, do you tire of teaching Luke what he cannot seem to learn?" She jested as Jace blocked Luke's swing and grabbed his sword, throwing it to the ground and shoving Luke down with it.

"It's not fair, I'm much smaller than him!" Luke pouted, his chubby cheeks turning red with embarrassment. Laenor pulled his daughter close and placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. 

"That isn't very kind, Aemma. Perhaps you would like to demonstrate to Luke what he should be doing then?" Laenor raised a brow, knowing Aemma couldn't resist. Aemma grinned and grabbed Luke's discarded sword from the ground. She was in her dress, but she didn't mind it. It only ever hindered her when she was on the defensive end, and against Jace, she usually never was. Laenor clapped his hand against her shoulder and leaned down to her ear. 

"When he starts to slow down, duck under and around his blows to trick him into opening himself up." 

"I will, Father." Aemma gave her father a smirk and readied her stance. Jace rolled his eyes and took his stance as well.

"Begin!" Laenor yelled. 

Jace was slightly hesitant at attacking his sister first, he knew it was a fair match, but he always felt guilty, especially whenever he made contact with his sword. Aemma took this to her advantage and swung her sword in a wide arc to Jace's side. He swung his sword across to meet hers, and although the swords were wooden, they both felt the impact race up their arms.

 Aemma continued with her flurry of short slashes and deft blocks as Jace began to fatigue from her incessant onslaught. Just as Jace deflected another one of Aemma's blows, she accidentally left an opening for Jace to attack. He slashed his sword down and attempted to strike her shoulder, but Aemma remembered her father's words and sidestepped out of the way. Jace continued on the attack, slashing and stabbing at her as she deftly maneuvered herself out of the way each time. Jace was breathing heavily now and sweat rolled off his brow. As he made another clumsy swing, Aemma slashed at his wrist, causing Jace to cry out in pain and drop his sword. Aemma then pushed her sword into his shoulder and smirked.

"Okay, okay. I yield." Jace rolled his eyes yet again. Luke clapped for his twin and Laenor smiled. 

"Thank you for the lesson, Father, but I do fear that I must retreat to my chambers before Septa Cerissa sees I have abandoned my studies." Aemma placed a swift kiss on Jace's cheek and ruffled Luke's hair and retrieved her discarded book, making her way into Maegor's Holdfast.

Aemma loved wandering around the Red Keep, she always found the tapestries and winding hallways fascinating, every crevice something to be explored. As Aemma made her way to her chambers, her thoughts drifted back to what she had seen as she sat under the tree. 

"Watch your back in the clouds, for they cloak the Stranger," Aemma muttered to herself. She couldn't possibly begin to fathom what this had meant. The Stranger represented death, why would death be in the clouds? Her thoughts wandered to Terrax. Would they be the one meeting the Stranger in the clouds? She could not bear the thought of something happening to her dragon. 

"My Princess, I believe your septa is looking for you." Aemma startled at the voice, looking up to see Ser Harwin Strong standing before her.

A/N BTW this takes place one year before Joffrey is born.