Burn me • Aemond Targaryen

Statues

Chapter Ninety-Seven~ Statues

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The statues Aegon had ordered to be sculpted were quite magnificent.
They were all and stood on high ledges beneath an archway crafted into the walls that lead to the Keeps sept.

Aegons was first, and the resemblance was remarkable. There was a stone crown perched on his head and a sword gripped between his hands and pointed toward the floor.
Beneath the statue was a painting of him, silver hair purple eyes as clear as any, with his ruby red crown upon his head. Aegon's was painted to wear armor with his sigil painted onto his chest. Yellow and black.
The plaque beneath his portrait and statue was gold, the writing clear and luminaries by the torches that sat next to it.

King Aegon II King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men ,Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.
107 AC -

Helaena's statue was next, she stood as tall as her husband's, a stone dragon egg resting in her hands. Her hair had been crafted into a braid over her shoulder, it fell to her waist. And as Rhaella looked at the statue of her sister, and the sad eyes that the sculptor had managed to capture, she felt a tear till down her cheek.
She couldn't save Helaena, and it taunted her.
Her sister's portrait captured her true beauty, her gown was green and her circlet kept a black veil in place over the top of her long wavy white hair, her eyes were mesmerizing, magical, but they were as dead as they were the day she died.

Queen Helaena Targaryen
'Dreamer'
109 AC - 130 AC

Then there was Aemond's statue. It stood taller than the rest. His jaw line was sharp, and his eye was smirking, mirroring the devilish look on his lips. His eyepatch was in place, and Rhaella remembered over a week ago when the final touches were being made. she had told the sculptor to change the eyepatch to the one she had gifted him. His stone sword hung in his left hand, the detailing was brilliant.
The statue perched on the ledge was high above her, and she thought about formally changing her religion to him, he was anyway he owned her dead or alive, mind and soul. And it took everything in her to not fall to her knees and voice every prayer out to him.
His portrait was like she was looking right at him, face to face. His hair was lay perfectly in place, the top half pulled behind him. His painting didn't have the eyepatch, instead his sapphire was there to view, the paint making it seem like light was reflecting off the jewel.
Her heart pulled, and her hand lifted to run her fingers over the painting, it looked exactly like him, but it didn't feel like him, how could it?

Prince Aemond Targaryen
'One-Eye'
110 AC - 130AC

Her own statue was stood next to her husbands, she looked only for a moment to make sure the details on her face was right, and it was like looking into a mirror, her statue was high above her, and then she saw the stone rose in her right hand that was rested at her side, in her right a stone book, the cover had the sigil of her brother crafted into it. On her head was a circlet, rested upon the hair that cascaded down in solid waves to below her waist.
Her painting was beautiful, her eyes were the same pale shade of violet, and her hair the same ethereal shade of silver. Her dress was rouge, and the she had gifted Aemond was wrapped onto the same chain of the necklace he had gifted her. She reached her hand up to hold onto it. And a broken sob threatened to flee from her cage.

Princess Rhaella Targaryen
111 AC -
'Seer'

Then was Daeron. His statue mirrored his messy hair and his grin. His store hand rested on the stone hilt of his sword. And as his older sister looked at the only memory this castle had of him, she felt her heart crumble. Daeron had drawn the shortest straw in life, born last and sent away first, to a place with people who could not understand the fire that needed to breathe. And then when he finally found his family again, he died for them without a question. His painting seemed to reflect him perfectly, the posture and the expression on his face was the same mischievous ones he wore in life, his clothes were green and his eyes purple, deep purple like his eldest sister but his hair was the same silver white as Rhaella's.

Prince Daeron Targaryen
'The Daring'
114 AC - 130 AC

Rhaella felt the weight of the object in her hand as she looked at herself and her mothers children.

Pawns in a game they were too late to know how to play.

"You like them?" Aegon's voice filled the air, and the sound of his cane approaching her echoed against the floor.

"I think you've found a very talented artist." Rhaella replied, mirroring his valyrian.

"Giles is very good at his work." Aegon agreed, smiling as he looked at the figures. "Larys told me of your gift." He said standing next to her. "I appreciate you trying with him, but is it really a good idea to give a devil a weapon?"

"I don't know what you mean." Rhaella lied. "I've not given him anything." She said turning to her brother.

"My mistake." Aegon said, Since being back at the castle he had began to refuse milk of the poppy. Instead he drowned his pain and sorrows in wine and ale.

She almost felt bad.

Almost.

"Have you finished your prayers?" Rhaella questioned.

Aegon laughed. "I've not done anything close to worship since I was nine years old." He told her. "I go there to keep up appearances, can't have the faith thinking the crown have turned on them."

Rhaella smiled. "I should've known." She said looping her arm under his. "The moment you knew you didn't have to do what mother asked you were never at mass."

"You neither!" Aegon laughed. "Always with your plants or your dragon or your books."

"They were my three favorite things in the world." Rhaella replied.

"Well I've another meeting with the High septon, I've decided Aegon as my heir is the best chance of peace, and a formal ceremony will show that." Aegon said to her, his eyes told a story of turmoil and Rhaella knew he was conflicted and she couldn't have that. "Why don't you take Vermithor out, and then we can have dinner together tonight?"

"That was my plan." Rhaella said. "I'll meet you back here later?"

Aegon nodded, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek and wandered out of the room, her purple skirts trailing behind her.

Vermithor was resting on the beach, near his cave. The walk from the sept to him wasn't as long as Rhaella had thought.
When he saw her he let out a happy sigh.

His bronze eyes looked deeply into her purple ones, and something felt different when she ran her hands across his skin.

"Come now, let's go for a ride."

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