𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ─ THE STRONG TREE
❝ 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐭 right to 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞

𝐏rincess Aemma Velaryon seemed to always find herself counted out. Time and time again, was she placed in the corner, a book in hand, seeming to fade into the background of everyones lives. But that didn't seem to be the case to Aemond Targaryen. In fact, their daily meetings were something he looked forward to. 

It had become something sacred, but also secret, their little meetings beneath their willow tree. Silent, and short, where they, but Aemond thrived off of them. If there were ever a person, and place, he would be able to turn to, to get away from his brothers teasing, it would always be to the willow tree. It would always be to Aemma.

And with the impending doom of having to watch his brother and nephews bond with their dragons, he had no choice but to make his way towards the willow. Padding cross the dirt covered earth beneath him, he made his way threw the weeds that surrounded his sanctuary, trying to catch sight of the ebony haired girl sitting at the roots of it. Yet it wasn't the roots she sat in.

Her legs swung beneath her as she sat high above ground. Her finger drawing absentminded lines into the book she held on her lap, observing, and picturing, the words that splayed out on its page, imagination deeming itself louder than the footsteps making their way towards her.

"I knew I'd find you here." 

Aemma perked up at the familiar voice, eyes still trained on the book, "It's nice to know you were looking for me, uncle." She had decided to escape the screams that emitted from her mother, as she gave birth.

"Aemma," Aemond spoke up to the girl, before furrowing his brow to the new height difference between them, "What are you doing up there."

Aemma shrugged, "I don't know." 

"You best get down, for it might break."

"Exactly, it might. Besides, our tree is strong." 

Aemond breathed out a laugh, shaking his head, "Our tree is old. Now just... get down. Wouldn't want a princess getting harmed under my watch."

Aemma furrowed her brow, chest heaving, once, with a small chuckle. "Ok," she marked off her page, "catch." She tossed the book down to the unexpecting prince, watching him fall to the ground, with a grunt, book lying on his chest.

Aemma let out a hearty laugh as she peered down at the splayed body of Prince Aemond below her. The boy let out a grunt as he moved the book off his chest, getting up off the ground.

"It's not funny." 

At his grouchy tone, Aemma laughed harder, "Oh, yes it is." 

Aemond begun to swipe the dirt off his cloak, rolling his eyes as a small smile appeared on his face, the humility of the situation turning light-hearted. "Just... get down, will you."

Aemma's laughter died down at his words, eyes still alight with mirth, as she turned towards the willows bark, grabbing onto a nearby branch, beginning to make her way down.

"Could you take any longer?" Aemond teased.

"Shut up." Aemma shushed him.

"I'm just saying, we'll be skeleton's by the time you get down here."

Finding little humor in his taunting, Aemma clicked her tongue, "You know what," her hand went back to the branch she had just let go, intending to climb back up.

"Wait, no," Aemond called, noticing her intentions.

"What was that?" Aemma questioned, arching brow a childish smile on her face.

"I'm sorry, just... get down." Aemond requested, letting out an exasperated sigh. For a princess she didn't quite have the civilities of one.

Aemma let out a satisfied hum, before continuing her decent down off the willow. Landing on her feet with a grunt, Aemma made her way towards the boy, grabbing the discarded book from off the ground. 

Aemma cradled the book to her hip, holding out her other hand to the boy for him to take, "Shall we?" 

𝐇er arm ached as she speed walked, trying to catch up with the long strides of her septa. Upon her entrance, with Aemond, into the red keep, she was quickly whisked away, from the prince, by septa Corrain, who hadn't stoped berating her during their march towards their lessons.

"Do you know how long I have been searching for you?" The woman asked, a sneer laced in her tone, "Only to find you in the company of a prince. And looking like that." The woman looked her over, her dress had been sullied with dirt, and her hair a mess, strands sticking out in every direction. "You will never find a husband with such behavior."

"I have yet to get my blood, I don't wish to speak of husbands." Aemma grimaced at the prospect.

"You-" the woman abruptly stoped, turning towards the girl, "-are the daughter to the heir of the iron throne. Many maidens would kill to be in your position, and many lords would kill for your hand. You cannot spend your days sneaking off with the prince, and missing your lessons. Now, come on."

Aemma's chest heaved as the two went back to walking, an uncomfortable silence hanging over them. Upon their arrival to their destination, the septa pushed the girl into the room, taking the book from her hands, "Go finish your stitching."

Aemma silently walked past her two aunts, picking up her unfinished embroidery, beginning to finish the three headed dragon she had begun, Septa Corrain looming behind her, observing her work. 

Her stitching was tedious, and she was sure she would stitch her fingers raw if she were to continue any longer. Luckily, her stitching stoped at the sight of the door opening. Unluckily for her, it was the Queen who entered.

The green clad woman spared no glance to the two, as her feet carried her towards her two daughters. "Leave." 

"Your Grace." The septa bowed and took her leave, as Aemma placed her embroidery down, taking back up her book, moving towards the corner, allowing the three their privacy as she began to read back into her book.

"𝐓he Gods provide." Aegon said, leading his brother to the entrance of the dragon pits. Hope bloomed in Aemond chest at the through of finally getting a dragon. But a question formed  within his mind.

Had they found one for Aemma?

His hope faded as he heard a snort. A pigs snort.

"Behold..." 

"The pink dread!" 

A choir of laughter came from his brothers and nephews as he starred lifelessly at the large pig. 

A hand clasped hard onto his shoulder, "Be sure to mount her carefully. First flights always rough." Aegon let out a snort, right into his ear, before letting go of him beginning to walk off laughing, Jace and Luke following behind him.

"𝐘our grace," the Kingsguard dragged the dirt covered boy inside the room. he held his head down to the ground, not willing to look at his mother.

Alicent got to her feet with a sigh, making her way over to her son, "Aemond, what have you done?"

"He did it again." Helaena said, seeming to exchange bugs with her sister.

Aemma quirked a brow, "Did what again?" At the sound of her voice, Aemond sunk more into shame.

"After how many times you've been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?" Alicent disregarded the girls question.

"They made me do it." Aemond defended.

"As if you need encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding." It was only in moments like these, when the Kingsguard would drag in her young son, who was covered in ash and soot, that she wished, him to be more like his niece. But she would never say that out loud. Never would she compliment a bastard for their manners.

"They gave me a pig." Aemond sneered out.

Aemma's brow furrowed, 'they?'

"A what?" Queen Alicent questioned.

"They said they found a dragon for me. But it was a pig." Aemond explained. 

A sigh filled the air, "You will have a dragon one day."

"He'll have to close an eye."

"𝐇ow many times-" Aemma sneered, her grip holding firm on her brothers arms, "-must I tell you to keep away from Aegon."

"Why must we keep away," Jace inquired, "uncle Aegon is fun."

"Fun?" Aemma quaked, "The fun you speak of is giving a pig with wings to Aemond, claiming it to be a dragon. You forget that I, your dear sister, also have no claim to a dragon, and yet you have no problem making fun of Aemond for the same. Are you that immature? And I'm younger than you." Aemma exasperatedly exclaimed, shooting a pointed look at Jacaerys. "Have you no thought or care for my feelings?"

"We..." Jace faltered on his words, not taking account of his actions.

"I will not have you hanging around Aegon any longer. And I'm sure mother would agree with it." 

The two began to voice their protest at the though of Aemma speaking of the events to Rhaenyra, but as the woman in question rounded the corner towards them, their protests fell silent, and the trio stoped in their strides.

"Mother," Aemma greeted, face distorting into concern as she noticed the womans look of worry, "What is it?"

"𝐁e good to your mother, I'll visit when I can, but that may be some time."

Aemma's eyes held tears and grief at Ser Harwin's words. "Why must you go?"

"Some things come without answer." Harwin moved over to the grieving girl, kneeling in front of her "But I will return. I promise." Harwin pulled her into a hug. "I will be a stranger when we meet again." 

Harwin stood back up to his feet, turning towards Rhaenyra, "Princess." Rhaenyra struggled to look at him, only nodding her head to his acknowledgement. Harwin turned and gathered his sword, heading out the door.

Jace ran out the door, with Rhaenyra following him, all while Aemma sat, frozen and lost in the memory. 

"We will exchange letters by raven." Rhaenyra spoke down to her son, "Won't that be fun?"

"Is Harwin Strong my father?" Aemma finally moved, eyes turning towards her bother and mother, "Am I a bastard?"

"You are a Targaryen. That's all that matters." At her words, Aemma raced passed them, taking no notice of her mother calling after her.

"𝐒er Harwin," Aemma yelled gaining the attention of all those in the courtyard.

Harwin let out a woe filled sigh as he approached the girl, "You should be with your mother." He knelt down to her height.

"I know." The knight froze, "About you and mother." Aemma looked down, "I think... a part of me always knew." Harwin sucked in a breath, "And I'm glad." Aemma, engulfed him into a hug, "I'm glad that you're my father." 

Harwin squeezed at the girl harder, placing a kiss to her temple, before pulling back, looking at his girl with a melancholy face. "Till we meet again, my sweet girl." 

"Till we meet again, kepa." 

Harwin gave her a sad smile, before regaining his footing, making his way towards his horse, as Rhaenyra came up behind her daughter, the two watching, with solemn faces, as the man rode out the courtyard gates.