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 walked toward the dais, looking up at Aemond as he awaited her. He was in a black velvet doublet, with the red Targaryen sigil embroidered onto his chest. He had a look of pure love in his eye as she ascended the stairs.
"Part of me doesn't want to let you go." Laenor wiped away a tear before kissing Aemma's cheek and pulling her into a hug. "I don't want him to take off that cloak either." He gingerly picked up the Velaryon cloak around Aemma's shoulders before letting it drop back down to her side.
"I fear black isn't my color." Aemma wrinkled her nose at the cloak Aemond held in his hands and laughed.
"I think you'd look beautiful in anything," Harwin whispered from his place beside his father on the dais. "My sweet daughter, I pray for that man if he ever makes you unhappy." Harwin beamed at Aemma, joining her other side and helping Laenor walk her up the rest of the stairs.
"Never in my life have I seen such radiance." Aemond's eye raked over Aemma's dress.
"You flatter me, my love." Aemma looked down as her cheeks flushed.
"Who is giving the young Princess away?" The High Septon asked.
"Ser Laenor Velaryon." Laenor smiled proudly.
"Ser Harwin Strong." Harwin tucked a lock of Aemma's hair behind her ear.
"You may remove the Maiden's cloak." The High Septon announced. Laenor unclasped the Velaryon cloak, revealing a Strong cloak beneath it. Harwin unclasped it as well, pausing to whisper something in Aemma's ear.
"I never thought I could love someone so much until I met you." Aemma could hear the smile in his voice.
"Prince Aemond, you may cloak the Princess and bring her under your protection." The High Septon nodded to Aemond, who clasped the Targaryen cloak over Aemma, his fingers brushing against the hollow of her throat.
Aemma turned to face Aemond, a broad smile on her face. Her smile quickly turned to a scream of terror as Luke stared back at her, his eyes open and unseeing, blood pouring from his nose. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead, blood came rushing out. Aemma turned to Laenor, but his face was replaced with flesh burned to a crisp, next to the smoking corpse of Harwin.
The cloak around her shoulders turned into hands, clawing at her, dragging her into the pits of hell. Flames enveloped her, and Luke smiled.
Jace jumped out of his chair when Aemma awoke with a scream, knocking the tray of food over. It clattered to the ground, spilling stew everywhere. Jace paid the mess no mind, his warm hands instantly on Aemma's face.
"It was a dream, Aemma. Just a stupid dream." Jace grabbed the rag on the end table and dabbed at Aemma's forehead, which was covered in a cold sweat. She began to shiver again, this time her teeth were chattering so hard that Jace worried they would break.
