The True and The Brave

𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔊𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫

[AN: So as you noticed now...there is something missing. I hope you picked it what it was because that something will play an important role in these next developments. Also, please for the spellings mishaps I am eternally sorry, my phone kept on changing everyhting. I promise I'll try to do it from my computer. Besides, I will edit this story after it is done, so please, if you any more mistakes, please feel free to point them out. These chapters were already written, I only had to fit them into the changes I've made recently. OH AND ONE THING: y'all its time to introduce an grown and broody Lucerys, his older version was fancasted on Tiktok, and I am proud to say I embrace it. So, welcome Mr. Chalamet as Lucerys Velaryon ]

[No Ghost Reading!] (please)

Aemond had reaped what he sowed. Had tasted that indifference and cold lashes that he himself brought upon his miserable existence. Aemma had avoided him since the last week, and today she had actually stepped away from his touch when he'd dared to reach for her. They had gone back to Dragonstone to train with the dragons. An idea Baela and Rhaena had explained in a council meeting. 

Lucerys Velaryon fiddled with his wedding band. The twin one sat upon Baela's hand. His wife. They could not stop but to reach for their embrace. She had been there for him— to walk that path alongside him. Kept him from the claws of his own riddled mind after the death of his brother and mother. He had lost everything, and now he had a everything beside him. 

And he was not blind. He could see that his pain was mirrored on his sister. It was as if he was staring at a reflection of his soul. Riddled with pain and sorrow. Aemond had been trying to speak with her, but even Daemon who had only came to inform them of his advancement on the riverlands, had noticed the rising tension. How Aemma fell back into her old ways. Into that cold and biting frost she had mastered. 

It reminded Lucerys of the cold and stoic girl that took a hold of her the day Daemon retrieved her from the fighting in the Stepstones. How she spoke. How she carried herself. 

Before the break of dawn, Aemma stood from her bed, Aemond laying beside her. Only one look could say everything she had wished. But she had failed. Failed Rhaenys. 

She had not been strong enough. And when Rhaenys needed her the most, she was not there. And she could not find it in her frozen heart to blame the man laying next to her. Could not blame him from breaking his promise. 

Aemond gripped her elbow before she could stand, forcing her to stop, "We'll face this together", he breathed, his eyes shining bright, "as we have in the past. Aemma, let me in. Tell me what I must do to atone; tell me to crawl over hot coals, to sleep on a bed of nails, to carve up my flesh, But let me care for you. Punish me, torture me, wreck me, but let me help you", he pleaded, his eyes searching hers. 

She trembled— trembled like a gods damned coward and yanked free, stalking away. She did not even know where she was going, only that she had to go. Had to find a place to sort herself. To sort the world out. 

And she settled on those rocks, her hand grasping the sand as it ebbed on her fingers and dissapeared on the salty water under her. 

She heard the whines and groans of the dragons from Dragonmont. How would she wanted to be a dragon and fly away from it all. Away from this war. 

Thought on how Lucerys had claimed Syrax, his mother's dragon. How Silverwing, Queen Alysanne's dragon had claimed Ser Steffon Darklyn, the only knight worthy in her eyes. He felt that pain too, when Cole beheaded his brother in Duskendale. How Sheepstealer claimed her grandfather. How Aemond could finally subdue The Cannibal, warging into the senses of the wild dragon. It seemed almost ironic how Aemond warged into the wildest dragon, but yet could not control his own bond.