The True and The Brave

𝔖𝔦𝔵: 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔬𝔡𝔰

[There is really no excuse of my absence as of late. I kept changing the endings and I got a little carried away with work and master's applications. The ending I have in mind has been scratched up and rewritten almost twelve times over. I do not think there is just one ending that does the characters and their growth arc justice overall, but it doesn't mean I can not try to bring you the most pleasurable reading experience. So now, on with it]

Aemond Velaryon had known that his most beloved and treasured person had broken her promise. Wherever she would go, he would follow. But he could not possibly follow her. Aemma Velaryon, Queen of the seven Kingdoms and his wife, had walked into the dragons den set to topple it down from the inside. To bring his brother to his knees. He grasped that single piece of parchment as if he wanted to tuck it deep into his heart. Engraving the words and last promises.

Then Daemon had come to retrieve him, his armor ready to wreak chaos and Dark Sister ready to cleave through the wind. The sword was heavy on his belt. Ēlēnar was weighting down everything he had felt. The love and the betrayal that he had tucked in into his heart. The words he had engraved onto his mind.

Daemon's eyes alit with a fervour and purpose, "I just got word from Rhaena. Cole is marching. We must go now. I'll deal with Cole. I have to collect a debt that was not settled, and Joffrey", Daemon paused, his eyes softening at the mention of the last Velaryon male from his late wife, "He can fucking burn the green army to cinders. It his right. Baela has secured the castle enough. We march today, my King".

Aemond's eye glistened in fury at the mention of war. He wanted this to be over. Had wanted to only be in peace, he did not care where. He did not care if it was in the qualms of that sweet darkness or in the arms of Aemma Velaryon. He sneered and stood up from the throne, his eye darkening at the sight of the swords. Will he add his brothers swords when this is all over?

"Tessarion is burning the rest of the river lands and our allies. We must rid of him too. If I fall...", he tasted ash as he gulped down nothing but air and unspoken words, "Tell them that I would do it all over again. Everything was for them".

Daemon nodded and his eyes narrowed to the swords strapped onto the King. On his belt was Elenar, Aemma's ancestral sword, and atop his back laid Blackfyre. Catspaw had been taken by Aemma that faithful night she had disappeared. He looked like the perfect mix between a royal Targaryen and Velaryon. His armor was black and engraved with small aventurine stones along the helm, shoulder and breast plates. He had seen a similar design in the Queen's fighting pieces.

"We will reforge this world anew, my King. We will find Aemma and you will tell her that instead. Save your dying words for her, Aemond. We survive this".

Aemond nodded alongside him, not quite believing those words. He had a gnawing sense of dread. He did not know if it was because it was his first war without her by his side or because if he failed...If he failed, Aemma's sacrifice would have been in vain.

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Vaemond Velaryon walked alongside the Lord of Winterfell. His eyes glazing over that single piece of parchment. The wolf of Winterfell had placed everything in order. Had done exactly what this letter demanded him to do. If this failed...Vaemond now knew of his niece's last wishes. A tear had managed to escape his dark lavender eye.

Oh, Aemma. She had been dealt a cruel hand. She was locked within a cage. Had locked herself so deep within that love that she was willing to sacrifice herself for a better future. But she had bought them time. And time was all he needed. Aemma was the testament of pure unpicked Velaryon blood. She was his the only semblance that they still had from Laenor and Laena. His lady and Queen.