❝A Dragon must serve❞
That's what Aemma Targaryen had been taught her whole life, they serve the Crown, the Throne, the Realm and the people. And that's what she's done her whole life, be dutiful to her family and the Realm, even through rebellions...
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loosely follows season 1, episode 2: the kingsroad
ᴡᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴏꜱ ʀᴜʙʏ ꜰᴏʀᴅ
The company had come to another stop at Ruby Ford, a location that Queen Aemma knew of from her husband, from his boasts, both drunk and sober, it was the location in which Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar Targaryen.
It wasn't the first time that Aemma had stopped at Ruby Ford, she had done so many times before, but it was a location that Aemma never really liked visiting.
"You're brooding." Aemma commented to her eldest son as he sat on one of the benches that was provided for them inside of the tent, while she braided Lyanna's hair. The three year old girl standing still on her mother's lap as she played with one of the rings her mother lend her to distract her.
"I don't wish to marry. I'm young and not knighted, I know not how to be a husband, nor a father." Edd began, looking up from the sword that he'd been polishing for the uptenth time. "And my wife to be is even younger, she's Joffrey and Jocelyn's age. Far too young to wed, far too young to birth children, far too young to know of the world."
Aemma looked at her eldest child with a hint of softness, it trully warmed her that her eldest son had none of his father's qualities, besides his looks.
"You won't wed until she's bled, and you needn't consumate the marriage instantly, you are both too young." Aemma told him as she tied Lyanna's braid, "It might be what is expected of you, but neither House Stark, nor myself, expect you to wed and bed a child."
"But father..." Edd began, looking up to his mother with dark blue eyes that truly did suit him.
"Cares not for when you bed Sansa, he merely wishes to bind House Baratheon and House Stark." Aemma dismissed, the half-lie tasting bitter in her mouth. With a deep sigh, Aemma motioned for her eldest son to approach her, which he reluctantly did.
"You're thinking of your uncle Rhaegar and the Lady Lyanna, are you not?" she questioned him knowingly, wathing as his shoulders sagged in return to her words. "You are not Rhaegar, and Sansa is not Lyanna-"
"But I am still a dragon!" Edd countered, interrupting his mother.
"You are a dragon, just as you are a stag. Neither are particulary gentle creatures, yet you are are. You are burned by the history that rested on our Houses's shoulders, I do not deny that, but you are your own self, Edd. You are no Rhaegar, nor no Robert, much less Ned Stark. You are Edd Baratheon, heir to House Baratheon, Heir to Robert Baratheon, Heir to Storm's End." Aemma continued, brushing Edd's raven hair away from his face.
