The True and The Brave

𝔖𝔦𝔵: ℭ𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔬𝔫 ℭ𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯

[AN: This chapter is well...you'll read about it. One thing though, I know this story does not precisely stick to books, but I am reall trying. I've gotten messages about Jace's death and Rhaenyra's (still), and well, all I have to say is that it is my rendition and my arc of Fire and Blood, if you want something more precise then go read Fire and Blood again bc its there...so go on, put this story is already different enough by adding a character. Now, onto the actual reading]

[No Ghost Reading!] (please)

Aemond had just arrived, Daemon rallying the troops for another attack. Vhagar had been commanded to burn the soldiers that were loyal still to his brother. Aemond was fighting because he did not know what else he had to do. What else he could ever do to prove his undying loyalty. He was here while his wife stood against the Triarchy fleet. Yet he was commanded to stay here, even if every fibre of his body yearned to be next to her. He broke her trust, using the power she had given him. 

He had to keep her safe. Had to sacrifice his soul if the gods wanted it, too. She was the one born to rule and bring prosperity. She was the Queen. 

He his mother's creation. A monster in the eyes of the public. The rider of Vhagar, a deadly beast that only served the purpose of chaos and death. He was a harbinger of death, a deadly shadow. A mindless beast that Aemma unleashed upon her enemies. Aemma was the better ruler. And he would do anything to place her in the iron throne. 

And his children. They had to be the next in line. Their mother's heart and blood. He was already frowned upon, as if he could ever turn his back to Aemma. His Queen. All the whispers and snides. It meant nothing to him. He swung the sword, bringing death to whoever dared saunter closer. A beast prowled under her skin. One he could feel consuming his bones and ichor. 

"King Aemond", Daemon greeted as Aemond made his way to the tent, blood covering his armor, hair and arms. 

Daemon inspected the man, his eyes falling to the blood-coated sword on his side. How many heads had his steel taken today? It could have been thousands by now. And he did not say anything about the fire behind that eye. 

"Prince Daemon. The recent developments, now", Aemond commanded. Daemon would've snorted if it was anyone else. 

But this was a man that was winning them this war. A man that fought for a purpose bigger than himself. 

"Vaemond Velaryon is mobilizing the North's men. Cregan Stark has sent word to you, Prince. My sons arrived in Pentos after their boat was sacked by the three daughters' fleet. Your children are at Winterfell along with their dragons. They have been well-recieved, but the Lordling has asked for an audience with Aemma before he can march upon Honeywine"

Aemond dull eyes moved to the letter. 

"Then tell him that our Queen is rather occupied fighting a war on Driftmark. War is afoot in all places, yet he demands for Aemma's ear". 

Daemon paused, his hand on Dark Sister. He had debated whether to tell him of his brother had decreed. Laenor Velaryon was the one who gave his daughter's hand to Aemond. But Viserys had agreed to a betrothment before that. He was not daft. He had heard the whispers even then. But it did not matter. Not anymore. 

"And there is an important, Aemond", Daemon said. 

"What is it?"

"Sharako Lohar, a Tyroshi general, has send ravens it seems. That he will deliver our Queen to Aegon when he defeats her in duel. He is inviting people to see her fall", Daemon said, his grip tightening on his blade.