Aemma Velaryon was the spitting image of her mother; she had pale silver hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. She was a Targaryen in all sense but her last name which she bore from her father Laenor Velaryon. She was the younger twin of Lucerys...
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"Princess!" Tyland Lannister was the first to notice Aemma's bloodied state; blood matted in her hair and covered her clothes, and the scent of blood and smoke clung to her like perfume. She looked like a warrior that had been anointed in blood and ash, but her eyes held an immeasurable sadness.
"Princess." The rest of the small council stood, save for Aegon, who was already at Aemma's side and inspecting her for any wounds.
"Gods, Aemma, what happened?" Aegon asked as he brushed a lock of Aemma's hair off her forehead.
"The Blackwood army was slaughtering the Bracken soldiers. They were outnumbered immensely, I evened the score." Aemma dragged her hand down her face, trying to wipe the screams of hundreds of dying men from her mind.
Alicent's hand covered her open mouth as she took in Aemma's words. She glanced at Otto, who was watching Aemma with an approving smile. A pit settled in Alicent's stomach as she realized this was Otto's plan all along, all his talk of leaving the enemy unharmed was just a ploy.
"Are you alright?" Aegon asked. Aemma had done an excellent job of destroying the Blackwood army, but she was not a killer, and he knew this would affect her greatly. "I never should have sent you."
"I wish... I would like to pray." Aemma did not see herself as a religious woman, but perhaps the men she killed were, and she wanted to pray for them, and for their forgiveness. "Alone," Aemma added after Aegon grabbed her arm, ready to escort her.
"Perhaps the Princess should detail what happened on the battlefield?" Tyland inquired.
"I think the Princess would prefer to mourn the lives she took for a moment." Grand Maester Orwyle said. "She can provide details once her mind is settled. We crushed the Blackwood army, we have no need to rush."
Tyland grumbled in agreement, silently cursing the old man. It did not matter whether or not the enemy has been defeated, they were at war.
"Go, Aemma. You may summon us after your prayers." Aegon walked Aemma to the door before wrapping his arms around her in a fierce hug. Aegon had changed after the death of his son; he was more serious, more solemn. Some would say he even began starting to act like a King.
Aemma tried to smile in appreciation, but it looked more like a pained expression. Aemma turned and made her way to the Sept. She had never sought out the Sept on her own, usually, she was forced to go with Alicent and Helaena so that they may pray. Aemma felt out of place standing under the alter of the Seven. She had never chosen a God for herself, but she spent most of her time in the godswood, sitting under the weirwood tree with its carved face and red sap tears.
Aemma knelt in front of the Mother, silently praying for the soldiers and their families. She silently apologized for what she did, and she wondered if the Gods were listening. She wondered whether or not they regretted their choice to trade Luke's life for hers, and after what she did, she assumed they did.
