The True and The Brave

𝔒𝔫𝔢: 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔚𝔞𝔯

[AN: SO YOU THOUGHT I WOULD LEAVE YOU THERE WITHOUT SO MUCH OF AN INKLING OF WHAT IS TO COME? Well you thought wrong. This is only a taste of what you will get. This was one of the last chapters I wrote before...before I realized I really needed to pick up my book and study. For a second there I thought I was a writer instead of a lawyer haha. There are still some in the works, but as I said, I must put my studies first. Behold, the angst, the trauma and everything to follow] (Please do not make an exception for this...I would still love to see your comments, votes and thoughts)

Aemma did not think losing her brother would made her feel this empty...this shell of a woman who was ripped from the last piece of childhood she had. Because Jace had died with his dragon. Even if he were alive...he wouldn't really be here. The alliance with the Baratheons had been fixed upon hearing what happened. Lord Borros had already set the terms straight. He wanted a seat in her council as master of coin— and Aemma complied. Using Rhaelle Targaryen, Lord Borros's mother, was a last move she wanted to resort to. But she was the queen now. She could not play it safe. Playing it safe would mean another death. She was a fool to think she could have been happy. That she could have her happily ever after with Aemond and her children. 

"Aemma, fireheart, you have to eat. Our children are here safe. Baela and Rhaena left to help Rhaenys with Meleys, Moondancer and Morning. Driftmark will not be touched". 

Aemma sat on her chamber, the crown on her head weighed more each passing day. When would she succumb to its pressure? It was as if the gold had spikes and thorns within, digging into her head and forcing her to her knees. She was a fool to think she could have ever be happy. 

"Jace is dead. Aegon is still alive. He claimed Vermithor. How long until Tesarrion who is almost and deadly as Vhagar befalls upon us? I did not want this. I don't want it—"

"Aemma", he tried, as her tears burned in her dull eyes. 

"Take it off", Aemma said in a cold and callous tone, as if her body did not quite belong to her. She lifted a heavy handd to her head. She swore she could almost see the beautiful golden binds that tied her hands to the crown. 

She was a prisioner to the gods damned crown— and she could not do anything to ever take it off. 

She lifted her hand once more, willing for her fingers to ebb into the golden prison and rip it away from her head. But her fingers touched that cold metal and fell, as if they were scorched by it. 

"Take it off", her voice was low, gravelly. 

Aemond did not know what Aemma's mind had gone to. He was there to hold her when Aemond had gone in the morrow to retrieve Jace's body for the pyre to be lit. He gripped her shaking hands on his. His jaw tightened at her state. She was now forced to wear this burden. To carry it and wield it. Aemma had not truly wanted this. And he knew it when Lucerys said it. There was possible way Aemma would willingly accept a death sentence. 

"Take it off", she breathed, lips curling back from her teeth, "Take it off", she begged. 

Aemond sushed her quietly, bringing his hand to her jaw, drying the tears that had escaped her eyes. 

"Please. I can't, Aemond—"

Aemond was frozen, eyes wide as Aemma knelt in the stones, as her breathing came edged with sobs. She was sobbing amid her screaming, the souds shattering through the chambers her mother had died in. She said no other words. pleaded to no gods, no ancestors. Only those words again and again.