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Excitement and dread in equal measure fluttered in Aemma's stomach as she helped the maester wash her father's skeletal body, long since having lost any shame at the sight of his private parts. Her mind was elsewhere as she ran a soft washcloth over his pale skin, careful to avoid the open sores. Today Rhaenyra and her children would return to court, but the circumstances were not happy ones. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was going to petition the king to give him Driftmark, now that the Seasnake was on his deathbed, since he believed Luke to be a bastard, something that was probably true, though Aemma had long since lost the will to care. She loved her sister and she was certainly in love with her nephew. He was a Targaryen through his mother, valyrian blood ran through his veins. Who cared who his father was?
Furthermore, Ser Laenor, as Rhaenyra had explained to her in a letter, had known and agreed to her and Ser Harwin's relationship and had loved the boys like they were his own. Jace and Luke were his sons, they were Velaryons, even if not by blood. So Luke was the heir to Driftmark as was the wish of the late Ser Laenor and Lord Corlys, though his brother seemed to think now that the old lord lay dying, he could lay claim to things that weren't his, especially considering the fact that it would be Otto Hightower and the queen presiding over this hearing, not the sickly king.
Aemma was well aware of what would happen, her grandfather would relish in taking Luke's inheritance from him, would relish the hit that Rhaenyra would take even more. If her eldest sons were publicly declared bastards, then the crown princess could kiss her throne goodbye, no one would support a known adulteress, though people were still aware of it now, they were more willing to look the other way, since it was unaknowledged and there was that tiny seed of doubt that Rhaenys's dark hair had sown, making it seem to the lords who had not seen the boys themselves, at least, like their dark hair was only an inheritance from their grandmother. The color of their skin was another matter, though there had been children of mixed parents that took more after their lighter parent before, so it was not entirely unlikely that Rhaenyra's sons had taken after their mother in that regard. At least, that was what most of the lords and ladies in favor of the crown princess wanted to believe. If it were to be an official declaration by court, that the boys were indeed bastards, any support Rhaenyra had would dwindle to nothing, though.
Aemma would not let that happen, she wanted to avoid the war that would follow and she knew that her father wanted Rhaenyra to inherit, him often speaking to her about it, about little Nyra being queen, and he spoke with such pride and love of that future that Aemma would do whatever it took to make it come true. She also wanted to save Aegon from the crown. Her brother had turned a new leaf in the last few years, taking up the sword again and spending time with his wife and children, often being seen with either Heleana or one of the twins, if he wasn't in the yard or shadowing their grandfather. People at court had taken this to mean Aegon wanted the crown, especially him learning from the Hand of the King, but the through was another matter entirely. After all one should keep one's friends close, but their enemies closer.
Aegon was their eyes and ears on the Small Council, the one who knew all of their grandfather's plans and would help them counteract them, when the time came. Because what Aemma and her siblings had worked out between them was that they wanted a smooth transition of power from their father to Rhaenyra with their mother as Hand of the Queen to avoid any conflict that could weaken the realm. Though they didn't have any of the nobles, what the three of them did have was the servants and the smallfolk, a power often underestimated by the nobles of Westeros. All the servants of the Red Keep wore green, but almost all of them had items of red tucked away somewhere, telling of their true allegiance, and the smallfolk of King's Landing knew and loved the White Prince and his Red Sisters, because the three of them had taken to going into the city and distributing food and clothes to those in need, Helaena often heading down into Flea Bottom to read the people passages from the Seven Pointed Star, teaching those who wanted to to read themselves.
There was no Red faction in court, but it did exist in the servant quarters and the streets of King's Landing, in letters exchanged between the younger generation of House Targaryen, since the twins and Jace and Luke were in on it, too, it was a silent, hidden faction that wasn't on the radar of anyone at court, though Aemma suspected that the Master of Whispers was very aware of it, though he didn't seem to perceive it as a threat, or perhaps thought of it as Heleana and Aegon buttering up the peasants and duping their younger relatives for their ascension to the throne, a belief that was very wrong.
This hearing though, would be the first time that Aemma would make a political move, officially. Because her grandfather's plan was to side with Vaemond Velaryon and discredit Rhaenyra in the process, Aemma would put a stop to it through a very simple gesture. She would remind the court and her grandfather that he would not only be disinheriting Luke, but also her if he named the boy a bastard. A last resort would be getting Viserys involved, though she hoped that they wouldn't have to, her father was so weak and frail that she feared the journey to the throneroom alone would kill him and, well, she didn't want him dead, not just because of the trouble it would spell for the realms, but also because she hoped that her father would see her wed even if he would probably be too weak to lead her down the aisle himself.
She heard the beat of wings and the roar of dragons outside the window, Caraxes's distinctive trill announcing just who it was that had just arrived on dragonback. Aemma took a calming breath and resumed tucking her father into bed, making sure the pillows supported him in a way that would allow him to breathe well, despite his ailing lungs. The man gave her a weak smile and she smiled back, before leaning down to brush a kiss against his clammy brow.
“Rest, husband, Rhaenyra has just arrived and will be here soon.”
She had long grown used to calling her father husband, or my love, it was second nature now, a sweet lie that kept her king calm in his ever growing confusion.
“Ahh, Rhaenyra... it will be good to see her...”, he rasped, glazed eyes closing as he fell into a light slumber.
Aemma tidied the room a bit and sat down by the model of Valyria, idly fiddling with one of the dragons. She made sure the servants kept it clean, for sometimes she would bring Viserys to sit before it and tell him the stories of the stronghold that he had told her as a child, his face softening as he beheld the stone city, an almost childish excitement lighting up his pain-marred features when she pointed to parts of the city as she spoke. On days where he could only lay in bed she would sometimes bring him one of the little statues for his fingers to wander over, the sight of his remaining eye too poor on some days to make out the details.
The girl rose as her eldest sister and uncle came into the room, both of them eyeing her for a moment, before Rhaenyra smiled and greeted her by clasping her hands between hers.
“Aemma, how beautiful you've grown.”
Aemma smiled, bashful, knowing full well that she was hardly beautiful with her lank hair and too narrow face, not to forget the scar and sapphire eye that made many a person shrink into themselves when it fell on them, her having abandoned the eye-patch despite her mother's wishes.
“Thank you, mandia, you look stunning yourself. Pregnancy makes you glow.”
Her sister's eyes softened and she placed Aemma's hand on her rounded belly, the girl blinking in awe as she felt the babe move beneath her palm.
“We believe it is a girl. A little niece for you to spoil.”
Aemma nodded, a smile curling her lips.
“I would like that.”
Rhaenyra let go of her and moved past her towards the bed.
“Father?”, she asked softly, moving past the curtains that shielded the king from the too harsh light of the sun.
“Nice eye.”, Daemon commented as he moved past, Aemma having a hard time deciphering whether he had meant it as a mockery, or a genuine compliment, it could go either way with her uncle.
She stayed away from the bed, giving her sister the privacy of talking to their father alone, the girl walking to the far end of the chambers and shifting the incense inside it's burner, the scent wafting up stronger, mixing with the smell of sweat and rot and sickness.
She was surprised when two servants hurried past with babes in their arms, but then remembered her youngest nephews Aegon and Viserys. Why her sister had decided to name her son Aegon she had no idea, it had the potential to get rather confusing when she permanently returned to court.
She turned to face them when she heard their steps draw near and was slightly confused by the hostile glances sent her way. She was about to ask if everything was alright when her father called out.
“Aemma.... my love, where have you gone...? Aemma...”
Ignoring the startled gaze of her sister, she stepped past the curtains to take a hold of her father's hand, seeing with relief that the others had already given him his dose of dreamwine, milk of the poppy no longer strong enough to dull the king's pain.
“Rest easy, husband mine, I'm here.”
The man's frantically roving eye fixed on her and his expression relaxed as he let it slip closed.
“There you are... I had thought... had thought you gone...”, he mumbled and was off to the land of dreams.
Aemma stepped back out to her sister and uncle.
“What was that? You called him husband.”, her sister asked, eyes narrowed.
Aemma clasped her hands together in front of her and looked away, feeling oddly ashamed for what she was doing.
“He is often confused. He believes me to be your mother and will not stop calling for her, if told the truth... It is just easier to pretend.”
Daemon let out a scoff, his eyes boring into her like daggers.
“It's no wonder he's confused if you keep his mind addled on dreamwine.”, he accused and Aemma's gaze snapped to his, incensed.
How dare he criticize her when he had not lifted a finger to help his ailing brother?! How dare he play the concerned brother when he had caused her father nothing but grief over the years, when he had fucked off to Pentos and then Dragonstone when Viserys was battling sickness?! How dare he pretend he cared when it had been Aemma who had bandaged his wounds and wiped away his shit for the last three years?!
“It is necessary! Milk of the poppy doesn't even work to ease his pain, not anymore! And without it he screams and wails, we have to wait between doses or it will kill him and in that time he is left bereft, crying out for his first wife, for you, uncle, for his own mother! Begging it to stop, for the Stranger to take him-!”, her voice cracked and she turned her back to the couple, composing herself. She would not cry, she had shed far too many tears already over her father's suffering, praying to the gods to give him a reprieve, sometimes praying for them to just take him already so he wouldn't have to live in agony anymore.
She flinched when a soft hand touched her shoulder, glancing over at her sister's face, any suspicion having fled her fair features.
“Have you been taking care of him all alone?”
Aemma turned to face them again and shook her head.
“No, I mean, the maester and maids help and Mother used to help in the beginning, but she has gotten busy with court and so it is mostly me now... I don't mind, he cries out for me when I'm not there and so I have taken it as my responsibility to keep him as calm and contented as he can be in his state.”
Her sister squeezed her shoulder and gave her a sad smile.
“I see... Thank you, Aemma.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice not to break should she speak. A noise from the corner startled them out of the solemn moment and Aemma blinked at the servants that were holding her littlest nephews, having forgotten they were there. Rhaenyra smiled, her amethyst eyes twinkling.
“Would you like to meet you nephews?”, she asked and Aemma nodded eagerly, accepting the elder of the little boys into her arms.
“That is Aegon, Viserys being the younger of the two.”, her sister explained as the teen smiled down at the toddler, who grinned up at her happily, snatching her braid and playing with it, something she was very used to thanks to Jahaerys and Jahaera.
“They seem like curious boys.”, she noted, seeing little Viserys snag his mother's brooch and try to pull it off her dress.
Her sister snorted.
“They are, the things they put into their mouths, I am glad to have so many eyes watching them, or they might have swallowed a dagger on accident... You'll see what it's like when you have your own.”
Aemma felt her cheeks heat at that, a queasy feeling bubbling in her stomach. She liked children and she wanted to marry Luke, but childbirth still terrified her. It was an odd juxtaposition of feelings that she didn't really know what to do with, so she shoved her fear away and focused on her sister instead.
“Are you planning to move the wedding forward?”
The crown princess nodded, throwing a worried glance over at the bed.
“It might be for the best. Father would probably like to see you and Luke wed and... and it doesn't seem like he has much time left.”
Aemma nodded, sadness constricting her heart. The wedding was planned to be held shortly after Luke turned six and ten, which would be next year. She doubted the king would last that long, not with how bad it currently was.
The thought of the wedding brought their current predicament to the forefront of her mind, however.
“What if... what if Luke is disinherited? What will happen then? Mother will surely break the betrothal on grounds of him being a bastard and grandfather won't hesitate to sell me off to the highest bidder... I... I don't want to marry anyone else...”, she glanced between the two, before looking away, embarrassed at her confession.
To her surprise it was Daemon who spoke, not her sister.
“Don't worry about it, princess, we won't let that happen.”
She met her uncle's gaze and nodded, feeling bolstered by his confidence. She handed Aegon to his father and gave little Viserys a kiss on the head, before bidding the couple goodbye and leaving. She still had to find her betrothed and get ready for the petition.
…
Aemma ran into her sister and her children before she found her betrothed, little Jahaerys toddling over to her with a happy cry and getting lifted onto her hip by her, the girl tweaking the little boy's nose with a smile.
“If you are looking for your betrothed, he is in the yard, Jace got pulled into a bout with Aegon, from what I hear they've been going for a while now.”, there was a hint of pride in Helaena's voice as she spoke and Aemma couldn't help but grin.
Aegon had taken his training seriously the past few years, building back the muscle and stamina he had lost to drink and melancholy, though he was not as skilled as Ser Christon, or many of the other knights at court, Aegon was smart and surprisingly cautious, building his defense and saving his stamina in a fight. She had heard quite a few complaints over the prince's skill in blocking, him wearing an opponent down until he could unleash hell on them, once they had exhausted themselves. Seemed like Jace either operated on a similar strategy, or that the younger prince simply had vast amounts of endurance that allowed him to last this long.
As the sisters headed to the yard, they chatted idly, Aemma sharing her earlier conversation with their elder sister and Helaena expressing worry over Luke's inheritance being revoked. They arrived and Aemma could see the crowd that had gathered around where the princes were fighting, the knights and guards parting to let the princesses through. Aemma could see now that her brother was standing firm, the young man a rock amidst a stormy sea, only moving as much as necessary to block their eldest nephew's furious attacks, biding his time and preserving his strength. Both men were sweating, though Jace seemed to be not as out of breath as he should be, considering the way he was crashing wildly against Aegon's defenses, attacking with swift and brutal strikes and often changing angles, jumping around the older prince, testing for weak-spots and finding none. She was surprised to see no frustration and Jacaerys' face, only calm concentration. Aegon was also calm, he always was in a fight, his lavender eyes darting about to track his opponent's movements, though it often looked like he was mocking the person he was fighting due to the scar on his face pulling his lips into a permanent smirk.
“Prince Jacaerys is a beast. He's been attacking relentlessly from the start and they've been going at it for half an hour, now.”, one of the castle guards murmured next to them, talking to a man next to him.
“Yeah, it's scary, I would've lost long ago, prince Aegon's focus is astonishing, how he hasn't slipped is beyond me.”
“They seem pretty evenly matched...”, the first guard said thoughtfully and Aemma hid a snort.
This was actually very good for them. The two rival princes locked in combat for all to see and showing off the futility of a war should it break out, since they were evenly matched, even if in different ways, the fighting would just go on and on, with no clear victor, only destruction left behind. It was such a perfect metaphor she almost wondered if the boys had staged it, she wouldn't put it past them.
“Papa!”, little Jahaera's voice rose over the clang of swords and Helaena let out a shocked gasp when the toddler zipped away from her, the young woman making a grab for the child, but Jahaera being faster and toddling straight towards the two clashing men.
“Jahaera, no!”, Helaena cried out as the little girl ran towards her father, unheeding of the sword flying towards her, Jace having aimed at Aegon's thigh, which was head-height of the child, and being unable to stop his momentum now.
Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as Aemma watched in horror, though her brother reacted faster than she thought humanly possible, dropping his sword and snagging their nephew's wrist to wrest it upwards, taking a hit in the chest and also unbalancing Jace, causing the two of them to go tumbling ass over teakettle, landing in a heap on the floor, little Jaheara coming to a stop before them and clasping her hands over her mouth.
“Papa fell!”, the girl cried out, purple eyes wide.
The entire courtyard breathed a sigh of relief as the two princes untangled themselves from each other, Aegon snatching his daughter up and throwing her high into the air before catching her again.
“You are a brave soul, little one, though I'd prefer it if you didn't run into battle, just yet.”, he said, making the toddler giggle as he pinched one of her chubby cheeks.
“I am so sorry! She slipped away from me.”, Helaena babbled, checking over her daughter as she stepped closer.
Aegon's face softened and he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“It's alright, love, nothing happened. Where's Jahaerys?”
“I've got him.”, Aemma called out, making her way to the couple and handing the squirming boy over to his mother, who began to scold his twin in a mixture of real words and baby-talk.
“That was close. I'm sorry.”, Jace said, panting and shamefaced as he looked at little Jahaera whom he almost struck.
Aegon shrugged and gave their nephew a lop-sided grin.
“Like I said, it's fine. If you had hurt her, I probably would've had to kill you, though, which would have been bad.”
The dark-haired teen swallowed at the implicit threat.
“Yeah, right.”
“Aemma.”, came a voice from behind her, making her turn around, her heart skipping a beat as she laid eyes on her betrothed.
“Lucerys.”, a smile lit up her features as she took in the sight of her nephew.
Luke had grown a lot over the years, though he was still rather short for a boy of five and ten, she suspected he would hit his growth-spurt soon and overtake her in height, Ser Harwin had been a rather tall man, after all. The young prince didn't take much after his father, though aside from the hair and the dark eyes, he had the same soft features as Rhaenyra, her bow-shaped lips and high cheek-bones, in short: he was devastatingly handsome. Well-mannered, too, since he took her hand and kissed the back of it in greeting, something that made her stomach do flips.
“It's wonderful to see you again.”, he said, his smile warm and she couldn't stop the flush that crawled up her neck even if she tried.
“I-It's good to see you, too, dear nephew.”, she said, cursing herself for stuttering.
A snort made her glare at her brother, who threw her a wink and then slung an arm around Jace's shoulders.
“We are rather filthy, nephew, we should get cleaned up before the court proceedings begin. Would you like to accompany us inside, dear wife?”
Helaena smiled widely, mischief in her eyes as she took each of the twins by the hand.
“Of course, husband. Aemma can show Lucerys the way to the guest chambers.”
Aemma glared at Helaena, who smiled back sweetly.
Very subtle, sister mine.
“Of course.”
“Marvelous! Until later, then.”, Helaena replied sweeping away with her husband, children and their eldest nephew.
Luke let out a chuckle next to her and held out his arm, which she took after a moment to gather herself and not act like a flustered maiden (which she was, but still). They headed into the keep, a kingsguard following them, close enough to act as a chaperone, but far enough to give some semblance of privacy.
“I have the dress. Baela and Rhaena had a field day making it, they might've gone overboard a bit. The only way you could look more like a Velaryon is if you wore our banner as a cape.”
Aemma chuckled at the mental image, meeting her nephew's gaze with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Now there's a thought.”
Lucerys laughed, the sound wonderfully melodic, and he put a hand on top of hers, where it was resting in the crook of his elbow, squeezing her fingers affectionately.
“If anyone could look beautiful wearing a banner, it would be you.”
She felt her cheeks heat and had to avert her gaze in embarrassment, knowing she was far from pretty, especially when she blushed, her face getting all splotchy.
“Did the Seasnake's sailors teach you to be such a charmer, or are you just that experienced when it comes to sweet-talking maidens?”, the question was asked lightly, but there was a real fear underlying it.
Aemma knew that Luke had spent a good amount of time in the past three years, sailing with his grandsire, learning his way around a ship and how to navigate the sea. Her betrothed would be a sailor as well as a lord, and sailors were notorious for what they got up to on far-off shores. Had Luke already sired a bastard or two in some port in Essos? And what if he had? He was a man and they were not yet wed, he owed her no fidelity, even after their wedding, men's infidelity was often overlooked. He was also a bastard and they were well-known to be lusty, something she had a hard time imagining of her sweet nephew, but it may just be a part of his nature she had not yet glimpsed. She could not fault him for it, truly. That didn't mean that the thought didn't sting, however.
Luke must have seen right through her, because he stopped walking, looking up at her with painful earnestness.
“Aemma, I swear to you that you are the only one I will ever speak to in this way. I want none but you. Even when I am gone on a ship somewhere, I will not lay with another. I won't ever sire bastard... I wouldn't wish this existence on any child.”, he glanced away at the last part, complicated emotions swimming in his eyes, and Aemma's breath hitched, guilt churning in her stomach.
“Luke... I did not mean to-”
“It is alright. I know what I am and I know that I am lucky, compared to many others in the same predicament. Still, no child of mine will ever know such shame, such dishonor. Nor will you. I swear it.”, he met her gaze again with determination, hardened steel where doubt had been before.
Tongue-tied, the girl nodded, her heart filled both with relief and sorrow.
The remaining walk to the chambers that had been prepared for Luke and his family went in heavy silence, the both of them stewing in their own thoughts, though, strangely enough, the air between them wasn't uncomfortable, just serious. They came to a stop before the doors, Aemma letting go of her betrothed, to let him walk into the door, waiting for him to come back out with the dress she had asked the twins to make for her, since it would look bad if she went into the boy's chambers with him, especially today.
Couldn't have any rumors flying about saying Rhaenyra's bastard had deflowered the queen's youngest daughter, after all. That would spell doom for all of them.
So Aemma waited, fidgeting with her skirts and wondering if she should apologize for their earlier conversation, even if it had been a necessary one. Luke came back out holding a flat box in his hands, presenting it to her with flourish and a little smile, and she knew then that no apology was necessary He did not begrudge her her insecurities.
“Here, I hope it fits.”
Aemma took the box, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
“I sent the girls my measurements, so it should fit, unless they messed up, which I doubt. I'll have to go get ready, then.... I'll see you at the hearing.”
The boy gave her a grin that resembled that of a cat which had just gotten all of the cream.
“Oh, I can't wait to see you at the hearing. Seeing you decked out in my colors might even make up for the stress this petition has caused.”
A laugh bubbled up from her throat and she raised a hand to cover her mouth.
“You are quite possessive, aren't you?”, she teased him, remembering the seahorse pendant he had gifted her.
Not that she minded that little quirk of his. Oh, she didn't mind, at all.
“Well, I'm a dragon and we are known to hoard treasure. You are a rare jewel, my love, and I'll delight in letting everyone know you're mine.”
The older teen chuckled, flushing again at the blatant flirting.
“Well, I'll make sure to make an entrance, then. Wouldn't want anybody to not see who I belong to, after all.”
Luke's eyes twinkled and he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand, setting her heart aflutter.
“I look forward to it.”
…
The dress was a work of art. The twins had really outdone themselves, shimmering sea-silk of Velaryon blue made up the entire dress, it being still of her usual style of a low neckline and cinched waist, seahorses playing with dragons were embroidered in silver threat all over the skirts and sleeves, the bodice strewn with saltwater pearls and seashells serving as buttons down the front and the sides of her sleeves. To drive the point home even further, Aemma donned the seahorse necklace Luke had gifted her so long ago, the one she had kept hidden in her jewelry box like a secret treasure, and had her maids put her hair in a similar style to the princess Rhaenys.
Looking in the mirror right now, she found that Luke was right. The only way she could look more Velaryon was if she wrapped their banner around her shoulders. The court would be in uproar. Especially since Aemma had only ever made waves with her scandalous dresses and her non-commitment to any side. This was a commitment and a loud one, the equivalent of someone who had ever only whispered suddenly letting out an ear-splitting scream.
It was also risky as all seven hells.
If Luke was disinherited after this little display of hers, then she would be a target, a massive one. Her siblings could protect her, but theirs was a slow rebellion, a silent, cautious one, that couldn't risk such a blow. There was a reason she hadn't told Aegon and Helaena about this little scheme her, Luke and the twins had concocted. They would have disapproved immediately.
But, her siblings didn't need her for the Reds to be successful, everything was in place for that and, if anything, Aemma's close connection to the Blacks only put them in jeopardy. By doing this she was making herself into a Black supporter, the Greens would be after her, even more so if Luke was disinherited. She would be the disgraced princess, the traitor Green. All the better for Aegon and Helaena to salvage what they could. They had a plan B, for what would happen should Rhaenyra be exposed as an adulteress and officially disinherited. Aegon was not a big fan of this plan, but it would be the only possible solution in that case. He would take the crown and make their older sister his Hand. Now, Rhaenyra was proud, she might not accept this, but in that case, the Hand's title was Jace's. They had all exchanged more than one letter to that effect, plotting and scheming for a way to prevent their parents from starting a war of succession. If the adults would all have to be confined to the Maidenvault until they could get along without murdering each other, then so be it.
Taking a deep breath, Aemma made her way to the throne-room, the hearing being about to start. The herald did a double-take before announcing her, the eyes of the room turning to her and being immediately overtaken by whispers. Her grandfather, who had been in the process of ascending the steps to the throne, stared at her in something akin to befuddlement. It was the first and only time she had ever seen the man so confounded and it almost made her laugh, instead she schooled her expression and dipped into a curtsy.
“What in the seven hells are you wearing, girl?”, Vaemond Velaryion asked her as she strode past him, the court falling silent to hear this bit of drama unfold. Vultures, the lot of them.
“It's princess, my lord, and I had assumed you would recognize your own house's colors. I thought it prudent to remind you who, exactly, it is you are trying to disinherit with this farce of yours.”
She stared him down for a moment, knowing how intimidating her sapphire eye could be, before turning away without waiting for an answer and striding up to her betrothed, who stepped forward to greet her, as they had planned.
“My betrothed, I see my gift was well-received.”
She smiled, heart skipping as he kissed the back of her hand, a shiver going down her spine at the heat in his eyes.
“Indeed it was. My thanks to the ladies Rhaena and Baela, they have outdone themselves.”
Rhaena, who was standing next to an amused looking Rhaenys, dipped her head.
“Of course, princess, you look lovely.”
Aemma thanked the younger girl and tucked her arm into the crook of Luke's elbow, raising her head high and meeting the disbelieving eyes of her mother across from her. She hid a wince as she saw Aegon stare at her, however. Oh, her brother was going to be furious, especially if this didn't work and Luke was still declared a bastard.
The furious whispers died down as the Hand of the King finally seated himself on the throne and Vaemond Velaryon, after giving her a look, stepped forward to make his case.
Aemma almost jumped out of her skin when her uncle sidled up to her and Luke, a grin on his face.
“How long have the four of you been planning this?”
The girl did not know how to answer, unsure how to speak to the man, unable to read his mood, though Luke spoke up with a twinkle in his eye.
“As soon as we heard about the Sea-Snake's condition, Vaemond has been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, so we thought it best to remind Lord Hightower that he'd be disinheriting his granddaughter, as well.”
Daemon hummed, eyes never leaving Vaemond as he spoke.
“Clever, but you are not yet married. Betrothals can be broken rather easily, especially in this case.”
Aemma swallowed, heat rising to her cheeks as she spoke quickly, not looking at Luke.
“Not if I were to loose my maidenhead to him. I'd be ruined for anybody else, especially if the news of it spread quickly, and the Red Keep's servants are terribly chatty.”
Daemon made an amused noise, probably because of Luke's reaction to that. This part of the plan she hadn't told anybody about, until now. They had gone towards Luke's chambers earlier in the day, several people having seen them together, and while they'd had a kingsguard to chaperone them, it would still be very easy for her to have the servants spread the word about her loosing her maidenhead to Luke earlier, hell, they'd probably be able to conjure up some bloody sheets should someone demand proof. Having the servants on your side was incredibly useful when it came to rumors, both spreading and suppressing them.
“Well, let's not resort to that, just yet.”
She chanced a glance at her uncle, but he was already returning to Rhaenyra's side, whispering in her ear. Her sister sent her an unreadable look before stepping up to the Iron Throne to plead her case. She barely even finished her first sentence, before the king himself was announced.
If Aemma had thought she had made an impressive entrance, then that was nothing compared to her father. It was both heartbreaking and inspiring, watching the ailing king struggle to sit on his throne in order to defend his beloved daughter. She leaned into Luke slightly, her betrothed squeezing her fingers gently, as she watched Viserys struggle up the steps to the throne with Daemon's help.
She could tell from the way he was moving, the harsh wheezing of his breath, that he hadn't taken either dreamwine or milk of the poppy.
He must be in so much pain...
Things happened very quickly after that, Vierys reaffirming Luke's claim to Driftmark and Jacerys and Baela being betrothed, something the both of them seemed quite content with, as well as Vaemond seemingly going mad and speaking treason in front of the entire court. Aemma flinched away when Daemon's blade cut through Vaemond's head, briefly catching a glimpse of Helaena covering her ears and Aegon stepping in to shield her, before she closed her eye not wanting to see the grisly sight in front of her.
“You can look now, they've taken the body away.”, Luke murmured to her and she opened her eye to see her betrothed looking up at her with concern. She gave him a small smile and watched with worry as her father was escorted out again, groaning in pain.
She briefly debated following, but decided to stay. She was making a point with her appearance, after all, it wouldn't do to vanish as quickly as she had appeared.
The rest of the court proceedings were all normal and boring, some trading dispute here, a ruling of justice there, nothing as monumental as the Velaryon trial, thankfully. Aemma avoided looking at the blood that still stained the floor in front of the throne.
…
Aegon cornered her before they went to supper, his expression mulish as he stopped her from entering the dining room.
“What in the seven hells was that?”, he snapped, lavender eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and concern.
“I made a statement.”, she said, slightly defensive.
Her brother exhaled sharply through his nose.
“Quite a statement that was, the only worse thing you could have done was wearing all black, though what you pulled was basically the same as that. What were you thinking, Aemma?!”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, she did not appreciate the tone her brother was using.
“I was thinking of sparing you the crown, since Luke being disinherited would discredit Rhaenyra and put you on the throne in her stead, something I thought you did not want! Don't tell me you've changed your mind, brother.”
Aegon reeled back at her accusation, before setting his face into a frown that was made all the grimmer by the scar pulling at his cheek.
“I don't want the throne, you know that, but what you just did made you into a huge target and it will put more suspicion on me and Helaena as well. Our faction is weak, we only have peasants and a few Goldcloaks for support, not even all of the servants are ours and we haven't rooted out the ones that belong to the White Wyrm, who reports to grandfather. If he finds out what we're planning...”
Aemma's anger dimmed at the genuine fear she saw in her brother's eyes at that. Their grandfather was not a man to be trifled with and he would probably find some way to punish them for their transgression. If Aemma had to guess, then any punishment for Aegon and Helaena would probably have to do with their children, Jahaera and Jahaerys being either betrothed, or fostered somewhere far away. She did not want to think about what her punishment could be, probably breaking off her betrothal and marrying her off, or worse sending her to become a septa. Otto Hightower was a very powerful man, moreso than the queen even, simply by virtue of being a man. If he decided their fates for them, there was little their mother could do, especially if he framed it in a way that made it seem like their treatment was for their own benefit.
Aemma took her brother's hands in hers, meeting his gaze and hoping to give him some courage.
“I'm sorry. I know this was reckless, but I felt it necessary... Had I known that father would intervene then I wouldn't have risked it. You and Helaena will have to try to keep your distance from me, make it seem like there's a rift between us now.”
Aegon rested his forehead against hers and squeezed her fingers gently.
“That'll be difficult, but we can use Diana as a messenger and meet through the secret passages if we need to. Helaena will miss you.... I'll miss you.”
A soft smile gracing her features, she reached up to cup her brother's cheek, tracing the scar she had accidentally given him, the scar that had mended their relationship.
“I'll miss you, too.”
“Uhh... are we interrupting?”, came a voice from their right and Aemma stepped back from her brother only to be met with Rhaena and Baela's curious face's.
It was Rhaena that had asked, her eyes flitting between them with a small furrow between her brows, while Baela smirked at them, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“You know, if I didn't know for a fact that Aemma is head over heels for Luke, then I would think there was something going on here. You're not planning on pulling an Aegon the Conqueror and marrying both your sisters, are you?”, she teased, causing Aegon to sputter.
“What? No! I would never-!”
Baela grinned like the cat that got the cream and shoved the doors to the room open, yanking Aegon with her by the arm.
“Uh-hu, sure. Hey, Luke, this one's trying to steal your lady-love!”
Aemma gaped in bewilderment as Rhaena linked her arm with hers and followed her sister, pulling the older teen along.
“He really isn't! This is ridiculous!”, she protested, only for Rhaena to side with her twin.
“I don't know, you looked awfully cozy, right now. And after that big statement you made earlier, too! Don't tell me that was all a lie?”
Aemma stuttered out a hasty denial, her words being swallowed by Aegon's heated arguments, Baela continuing to rile him up more and more with a gleeful smile on her face. Aemma looked to the others seated around the table for help, only to be met with amusement from Jace and Luke and a confused stare from Helaena, none of the older adults being there, yet.
Aemma's blood ran cold at that. Her sister had a hard time understanding sarcasm and jokes most of the time and with Aegon's history, she might be taking the twin's teasing as fact. The room fell silent when Helaena rose abruptly, stalking towards them and standing in front of her siblings with her arms crossed over her chest, the twins sending each other guilty looks before hastily slinking away.
“And just when I was starting to think you were getting better, Egg, and, honestly, I expected better from you, Aemma. I am very hurt.”, Aemma was about to open her mouth to explain that the twins had just been joking, when her thoughts came to a halt, Helaena had called Aegon Egg, she only did that when she was joking, which, in Helaena's case, was pretty rare, but it did happen, “In fact, I am shattered, my heart is scattered to the wind, I am inconsolable at this betrayal.”
Aemma snorted, relieved that Helaena wasn't taking this seriously and decided to play along, just for fun. She stepped up to Aegon and hooked her arm around his, ignoring the wide-eyed look he sent her.
“Think of it less as a betrayal and more an opportunity. Now you don't have to babysit him anymore.”
Aegon made a protesting sound at that, but his wife spoke over him, a contemplative expression on her face.
“You are right. Having to take care of the twins and Aegon can be very tiring at times, I don't even want to think about what will happen after our third arrives.”
Aemma joined in with the snickering that filled the room, some of the servants that were preparing the room for their supper were even throwing them amused glances.
“I am not a child!”, Aegon sputtered, then his eyes widened, “Wait, what third?”
Aemma let go of her brother to clap her hands over her mouth, she hadn't even caught that, but had Helaena just implied that she was expecting again?
Their sister smiled softly, eyes twinkling merrily as she placed a hand on her stomach.
“I am with child, Aegon.”
The young man gaped for a moment then stepped forward as if to embrace her, but caught himself.
“Can I hug you?”, he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Aegon always asked, now, or let Helaena initiate contact between them, understanding that their sister had days where she couldn't touch another at all and days were she was as cuddly as a kitten. Now, the woman nodded and let her husband pull her into a hug with a smile. Aemma smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. She was happy for her siblings and incredibly proud of Aegon, of how far he'd come, how much he had changed and matured. She was also reminded of the conversation they had had after the incident at the sept, where Helaena had told their brother that she would have no more children out of duty, only love. And it was clear from the way Aegon was looking down at his wife, that this babe was very much a product of love.
“Congratulations, Helaena.”, Jace called out, opening the floodgates for well-wishes, which only got more when the rest of the royal family arrived and were informed of the happy occasion.
“We should have a feast in your honor.”, Viserys breathed weakly, though his eye was brighter than Aemma had seen it in a long time, and it was focused on Helaena, who seemed to preen a bit under the attention of their father and king.
“Can we have those singers from the Riverlands brought in? The ones that played at Aegon's last nameday? They were lovely.”, she asked softly, the king nodding as enthusiastically as he could.
“Of course, my dear.”, his smile softened as he looked over his family, sitting together with seeming ease, though there was still a lot of tension between Rhaenyra and Alicent, the king's eye landed on Aemma and she was surprised to see no confusion there, “You look lovely, my daughter, blue really is your color.”
She ducked her head and flushed slightly, but smiled at her lap.
“It is a good thing she is marrying Luke, then. She'll be wearing nothing but Velaryon blue for the rest of her life.”, Baela teased, causing said boy to blush and his older brother to snicker.
“They'll be calling her the Merling Princess, soon enough.”, Aegon piped up, grinning and causing more snickers from the younger generation, much to the surprise of the older one, Alicent especially seemed bewildered by the ease between them all.
Viserys weathered face softened and he rose to wobbly legs, Aemma's stomach swooping when he took the mask that hid his face off. It was a sight she was used to, but no one else was. She heard Aegon and Daemon both suck in a sharp breath at the sight of the king's empty eye-socket and open cheek.
“I would have you all see me, as I am. As an old man and not a king. It gladdens my heart to see our children get along, to see them lead with admirable example... one we should all follow.”, he turned, setting his watery gaze on his eldest daughter and lady wife, both of whom bowed their heads in shame, “I implore you, not as your king, but as your father and husband, to set aside your grievances, once and for all. If the children, who have much bitterer hurts between them, can, then so can you.”
Aemma shared a glance with Aegon, knowing what their father was referring to and giving him a nudge, which her brother returned with his always-crooked smile. Viserys sat back down and there was a long tense heartbeat of silence, before Rhaenyra rose and raised her cup to the queen, Alicent returning the gesture and even going so far as to tell Rhaenyra she would make a good queen. It had Aemma lightly kick Luke's ankle beneath the table, who gave her a hurried nod, equally disbelieving of what was happening.
Maybe there was hope? Maybe the Red faction wouldn't be needed after all? Perhaps... Perhaps, if Rhaenyra stayed at court, then things between her and the queen could be fixed?
She threw a glance at her grandfather, who was looking like he had bitten into a lemon.
Grandfather will have to be removed for that to happen, though...
Her gaze accidentally caught Daemon's, who was glancing between her and Luke inquisitively, having caught their silent communication. Smiling she raised her goblet to him and he smirked and returned it.
They might have an ally there. If anyone would be up to helping them get rid of the Hand of the King, then it would be the Rogue Prince. Even if it may be a bit of a more... permanent solution in that case.
Time flew by as food and drink were had, conversation flowing and laughter spilling over. It was the most fun Aemma had had in ages. It got even better when the musicians started playing, since Lucerys hopped to his feet and offered her his hand with a smile. She grinned back and allowed him to lead her in a dance, their height difference making things a bit awkward, the two of them bursting into giggles when instead of being twirled around gracefully, she had to awkwardly duck under his arm, the boy going onto his tiptoes so she wouldn't have to stoop so low. They weren't the only ones dancing, Aegon moving easily with Helaena and Jacerys and Baela being completely lost in their own world, Alicent even allowing Daemon to give her a spin on the dancefloor, Viserys and Rhaenyra watching with soft eyes from the table. It was nice, more than nice, it was like something from a dream, a glimpse of what could be.
But all beautiful things had to come to an end and Viserys letting out a groan of pain, his medication beginning to wear off, signaled the end of this nigh-perfect evening. The queen motioned for some servants to help the king to his chambers and Aemma made to follow. She had already neglected her duty once today, the least she could do was to tuck her father into bed and wish him a good night. So she bade everyone else farewell and even dared to press a kiss to Lucerys' cheek before quickly following after the king, her heart floating with joy and a skip in her step.
She helped her father change into a soft nightgown after wiping him down with a wet cloth and re-wrapping his wounds. He smiled at her, that slightly loopy smile he had when he wasn't entirely cognizant of his surroundings.
“You truly looked lovely today, my heart. I wish I could have danced with you, as well.”, he wheezed and some of her good mood evaporated, because he was treating her like Aemma, his wife, not his daughter, again. And today had been so lovely, too, she had been able to actually converse with her father over dinner, for once not lying and pretending she was the first Aemma, but of course it couldn't last. She was surprised her father had even held out as long as he did, considering how hard the day must have been on him.
Aemma helped Viserys to his bed, tucking him into bed and, feeling a bit childish, curling up beside him, holding his weak, clammy hand between hers.
“Did you enjoy today, my love?”, she asked softly, her heart lifting a bit when the man smiled at her, eyes warm.
“I did. It was wonderful to have everyone home, even with the ugliness of the afternoon... Thank you, my heart, I truly do not deserve such a dedicated daughter.”
Aemma's blood froze. He had called her “my heart”, but also his daughter. How confounded was he this evening?
“Do not look so surprised... I knew it was you... not always, but enough times... You are a beautiful girl, my love, but you do not look anything like my first wife.”
The girl swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and clung to the old man's cold hand.
“But... you don't love me... why would you-?”
Viserys gaze darkened with sadness and he weakly squeezed her fingers.
“Foolish girl... but then again I am a fool as well... treating you as I have.... I love you, Aemma, you and your siblings... I wish I could go back in time... give you the childhood you deserved, the father you deserved... but alas, I shall die with naught but regrets... Aegon and Helaena looked happy... I am glad they have found love with one another... their children will be loved by both their parents, as will yours... A shame I will never meet them, or see you wed... I would have liked to be there, even if I can not walk you down the aisle myself...”
Aemma's sight blurred, tears clouding her vision, and she sniffled, shaking her head where she lay, rumpling up her braids.
“No, father, we are moving the wedding forward. You will see me wed, you just have to hold on a little longer... and-and do not regret... I-I got to know what it feels like to be loved by you, it is more than enough.”
The man shook his head, untangling his hand from hers and reaching up to cup her cheek, clumsily wiping away her tears.
“It's not enough... It could never be... And, I'm afraid, I'm not long for this world, my heart, I've already held on for so long... I am tired... Even if I cannot be there, at least I will know... that Lucerys will make you a fine husband... he will cherish you as much as I have, my sweet girl...”
He moved, laborious and slow, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she stifled a sob, curling closer to his frail body.
“Please, father...”, she choked, not knowing exactly what she was asking for. For him to stay? To suffer longer? That seemed cruel, too cruel.
“I'll watch over you, over all of my children... Goodnight, my Aemma.”
Aemma hiccuped, knowing in her heart of hearts that this would be her last goodnight from him, that he would not wake in the morning. It was too soon. It was too soon!
A memory came to her, then, of her mother saying goodnight to her when she was little, when it was still appropriate for her to tuck her children into bed and dote on them like a mother and not educate them like a queen. Aemma used to call her Mama, back then, a childish term that she had soon been deemed too old for. Alicent had been Mama, but Viserys had never been Papa, having never been anywhere near their bedchambers when it was close to bedtime, or at any time of day, them really only visiting the king in his own apartments and at his behest.
Her heart stuttered in her chest and Aemma closed her eye, letting out a shuddering breath.
“Goodnight, Papa.”, she whispered, using the endearment for the first, and last, time.
Viserys smiled, such a serene, loving expression on his face, and closed his eyes, his breathing deepening into slumber.
Aemma watched him breathe until he stopped and even then she laid there for long moments, pressing a hand to his hale cheek, feeling it grow cold, and let herself cry, let the grief wash through her and scrub her clean. When she was done she rose and wiped her face, peering out the window at the midnight-sky. The girl held her breath, counting to ten, and then let it out, before striding for the doors in search of a servant, a Red one.
The king was dead, long live the queen.
…