The True and The Brave

𝔒𝔫𝔢: ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔟𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥

[AN: I am so sorry I did not update when I said I would. I was going through some personal troubles with family and health, but everything is hopefully good now. I took my exams and they did not go as planned to say the least. I do not understand why this university is so unreasonably hard. Apart from all the depression, anxiety, and panic attacks it gave me, they still want to hold me back in life. I really hate them, all the staff that thinks it is funny and joyful to halt someone's life like that, and I hope no one should ever go through that, but if you do, know that you have someone to talk to about it, and don't bottle it up. Anyways, mental breakdown over. Let's get to this shit now.]

Aemma did not think a dragon would be seen as a harbinger of death. She'd rather admire them, even Vhagar and Seafyre. She would admire their power. Dragons made them what they are. Without them, they would not have toppled empires or burned down cities as they liked. But now she had grown to hate them. Because when they fought against them, you truly learned to hate them. 

Lucerys. Oh, her little brother. The boy had grown into a man, even while suffering the death of their mother and brother. The soul that always found a shred of hope and reminded her to not let the bad days win. 

Aemma. Aemma. Aemma. Fireheart. 

She did hear her most beloved. Heard the gentle ushering of her name coming from his mouth. The rapid heartbeat that matched her own in her ear. 

Joffrey kneeled in front of her and another jolt of pain surged through her heart, burning the ire and rage that almost broke the dam. He looked just like him. The same mops of dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck, those dark eyes that shone with hope. Her mind wandered to Baela. 

Oh, Lucerys. 

And Aemma clenched her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of it again. Seafyre let out an agonizing whine, sensing her rider's pain. 

Aemma had failed. She had failed. She had utterly failed to keep her family safe. She wanted to curse the heavens for spinning this fate upon her. They were supposed to be the ones to tell the story, not her. Not the creature that she had become. 

Her eyes squinted in the distance. Daemon closed his eyes, a tear was already running down his porcelain cheek. Aemma stood from the gentle embrace. Her eyes resembled molten fire that raged and raged, never dimming. 

"We do this now", Aemma rasped, commanding Daemon who looked back at Aemond with a lost expression. 

"Aemma", he started. 

"No. Stop that. We failed. I failed. We made a promise to each other and we broke it. Family comes first. We failed, Daemon. Now get your arse to Caraxes and do what you do best. Burn. With Fire and Blood"

Daemon had a dark glint in his eyes, his hand shot towards dark sister and he plunged the sword onto the ground, kneeling before her. 

"I vow that I will get vengeance, my queen. This will not go unpunished". 

Aemma nodded, and her head rose. Her husband stood next to her, his eye also unyielding with that molten rage. Even if Lucerys had taken his eye, had made fun of him senselessly, Aemond would not wish a father the tragic ending of not meeting a son, of knowing that he did everything to keep them safe, but your everything was not enough. And he had grown respect, for the man that tried too hard to keep his Aemma from barreling into self-destruction. But now, he could not stop her alone. Could not stop the harbinger of death.