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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Aemma bolted upright, her hand fumbling for her sword in the darkness as the battle horn blew loud into the night. She wrenched herself out of bed, stumbling to the window to see what was happening.
"Aemma!" Daeron threw open her door and ran to her. "Three thousand men are riding on Castle Darry as we speak. Get dressed." Daeron waved in Olyvar, who carried Aemma's armor, his thin arms shaking at the weight.
"What are their banners? How can three thousand men ride to the front door without notice? Where is Ser Criston?" Aemma asked as the young boy helped her don her armor.
"Ser Criston is in the courtyard, readying the men. They outnumber us by at least a thousand men." Daeron ran a hand down his face. "No banner has been seen."
"Mount Terssarion, Terrax will fly alongside you." Aemma slapped away Olyvar's hands as he reached to buckle her breastplate. "My sword." She nodded to Dragon's Breath, which was leaning against the wall in its scabbard.
"What else do I do?" He asked. Daeron had never been one for leading, but he was good at following directions.
"Have Ser Liem, Martyn, and Derrick remain with Lord Darry and his family in the Hall. They are to guard him under any circumstance. And find out who these men are!" Aemma could practically smell the smoke already.
She ran to the courtyard and watched as Ser Criston barked orders left and right. He led his horse and Buttons by the reins, waiting for Aemma.
"Ser Criston! Daeron is mounting Tessarion as we speak. Are we ready?" Aemma asked, taking the reins from Ser Criston and mounting Buttons.
"Waiting on your command, Princess. We're going to meet them in the field, Daeron can rain fire from above." Ser Criston nodded to Aemma before mounting his horse.
"Wait!" Olyvar ran to Aemma, handing her a shield.
Aemma unsheathed her sword and smashed it against the shield, the loud clang ringing out into the night.
"Hey!" Her voice was loud and booming. All movement halted, every eye falling on the Princess. "These men want to take what's ours! They want to take our lands, our people, and our crown!"
Ser Criston looked at the young girl next to him, her sword raised in the air rallying her men, and he wondered how someone so spoiled and careless as Rhaenyra had birthed such a born leader.
"Are we going to let them?" She asked.
"No!" Voices erupted all around.
"Are we going to defend what's ours?" She looked to the men around her, all of them looking to her to light the way.
"Yes!" They shouted.
"Let us protect what is ours, with fire and blood!" Aemma turned and spurred Buttons to a run, leading the men on horseback out of the gates. She feared what awaited her, not knowing who it was or what they wanted, but she rode all the same.
