𝔗𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄
II. A HOUSE DIVIDED 

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⋆｡˚﹕121 AC ⎯ 𝖣𝖱𝖨𝖥𝖳𝖬𝖠𝖱𝖪

AEMMA HAD KIND and firm hands rested upon her shoulders in an instant fluid motion. It was her mother, Rhaenyra's gentle attempt to soothe and calm her. Yet, it wasn't the place to inform her mother that she had found her dress a bit itchy. It was a handsome dress by most standards, a rich navy blue and embroidered gold, made of the finest fabrics.

"I am here, my sweet girl," Rhaenyra spoke softly, giving her daughter's shoulders a squeeze.

Lucerys leant into his elder sister, sensing her discomfort, his smaller hand tightened around hers in an inescapable clasp. Jacaerys was always much better at hiding his emotions and holding himself together ⎯⎯ he would always be the one to weave them out of situations with the words he managed to weave together when the three siblings would explore King's Landing playing Knights or when they were caught by the cooks in the kitchens looking for cakes or sweets. When Aemma had been much smaller she would climb into bed with her two brothers during thunderstorms but she was much past that now.

However, Aemma knew better that in this circumstance her elder twin Jacaerys was still reflecting and devastated by the death of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin Strong. He would never dare to say it aloud but Aemma knew he wished to be at Harrenhall grieving there instead. But she knew that their mother would disapprove severely as kin became above all else.

Aemma and her brothers were deeply attached to Ser Harwin Strong. He was honourable and kind and loyal to there mother. He never looked down upon Aemma for being born a woman, instead, he made exceptions, teaching her the basics of swordsmanship when her mother would allow it. He did not want the princess to be unable to defend herself. For that, Aemma was forever grateful, as the first and only daughter of her mother, at the age of eleven she was already expected to be sent away to her betrothed in the North and marry him when she was at age. It was rare in court that she was seen beyond that.

The sound of the waves roared, a sign of the Old Gods of Valyia, Aemma knew. Vaemond battled with the gushing wind, his voice strong and unyielding speaking in the tongue of their ancestors. Aemma had a deep refusal in her to look outwards into the ocean ⎯⎯ to watch as her beloved Aunt Laena and dearest companion of her mother would sink beneath the waves.

From beside her father, her uncle Prince Aegon, her mother's younger half-brother, let out an exasperated sigh. Aemma frowned at him, surprised that he would be daring to show such a reaction. The young Princess' glare piercing enough that Aegon looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question. Aemma copied him, raising her eyebrows the same, but instead of scowling at her, there was the smallest curve of a smile on his lips. Aegon must've been drunk. He would often confer with her brothers, masterminding pranks around the castle. It was rare he would acknowledge her, even when she was out in the gardens with his sister Helaena. Her time in the gardens was often short-lived, the Queen Consort Alicent Hightower often found excuses to limit the time Aemma spent with Helaena.

It must've been her grandsire, King Viserys' gaze that suddenly raptured and halted the daringness of Aegon. Aemma sent a slight smile to her grandsire feeling herself grow shy, and her smile was one that he returned warmly before looking out towards the ocean.

Unlike her grandsire, Aemma studied her kin instead. She could feel the inconsolable grief radiating from her father beside her. Aemma's father was a gleeful, joyous man. He was always telling her of his adventures or dealings at court. It was upsurging seeing the glossy look in his dark eyes, and the sunken and weathered look on his brown skin. This was shared between grandsire Corlys Velaryon, grandmother Rhaenys Targaryen and her cousins Rhaena and Baela. But her Uncle Daemon seemed in such disbelief and in horror of his lady wife's death he was chuckling.

Aemma suddenly had the courage to watch the carved and intricate casket made of stone lowered with rope, inching closer from the land to the sea until the casket entailing her Aunt slipped beneath the waves with a mighty crash against the salt water.

In the next few moments, there was nothing but silence as Lady Laena now lay at the bottom of the sea, laying to rest the graveyard of her ancestors and kin. It was weighted, heavy and suffocating. Many began to move, to make their way away towards High Tide castle.

"You three make haste," Rheneyra told her three children. "I shall check upon Joffery and see that he is attended to before I return to pay our respects and condolences."

Aemma looked towards her mother with pleading eyes, she didn't like being alone amongst them. The stares and whispers and rumours had gotten too much. Aemma was the only of her siblings to be born with golden silver hair and blue eyes ⎯⎯ her grandsire King Viserys had been delighted when her mother had presented Aemma to her grandsire alongside her twin brother. In fact, her grandsire was delighted to have a brood of grandchildren and he loved them all dearly. To Aemma he was a kindly man despite the illness that was slowly devouring him like a hungry beast. It was one that plagued the mind and body and the king was always under the maestors care and intent. 

Aemma was not present when the rumours flared up in the courtyard with her brothers and uncles, she had been in the garden catching bugs in the gardens with Helaena whilst both their mothers had been present at the council. Aemma cherished Helaena. Her brothers spoke of Helaena to be peculiar at times with her odd way of saying things in riddles and her love of bugs and creatures. Nevertheless, Aemma loved deciphering them and would attempt to converse with Helaena in her own way of saying things. The two girls were close despite the disapproval of Queen Consort Alicent Hightower. Aemma always felt herself go cold at her gaze, Alicent looked at her like she was poison, an invasion when she ventured into the gardens with Helena. Helaena wasn't much older than Aemma. Both girls were closer to being sisters or cousins rather than aunt and niece. Despite it all Aemma's grandsire greatly encouraged the friendship that had grown between the two girls.

"Mother," Aemma blurted watching her brothers make their leave, and Rhenerya turned to face her, looking at her only daughter attentively. "May I go with you?"

Rhaenyra smiled brightly, offering her hand to her daughter. "Of course. Come along now Aemma. We must be quick."

Aemma often followed her mother like a shadow and Rhaenyra welcomed it. It was a rare sight to see one without the other. Aemma was often left out as her mother's only daughter, her brothers would venture down into the pit or the courtyard in their daily duties. Rhaenyra made a great effort to guide her daughter in her studies and duties as a princess. Rhaenyra knew Aemma should've had much more companionship with Helana ⎯⎯ especially in studies with a shared tutor but the Queen Consort was against the two girls spending more time together than necessary. Alicent found every excuse to separate the two and she would fiercely shield Helaena from Aemma and it pained Rhaenyra greatly.

"Is something the matter my dear girl?" Rhaenyra had asked once the two found themselves alone in the hallways of Driftmark Castle.

"I am afraid to say it aloud. Then it is true," Aemma confessed to her mother, suddenly growing teary-eyed. Rhaenyra frowned seeing that there was something weighing on her daughter. It was unlike Aemma to say such things. The doors to Rhaenyra's permanent Guest Chambers at High Tide opened. The chamber was luxurious and much larger than Aemma's. Its detailing was blue and wonderful, the colour of the House Velaryon.

The wet nurse who had Joffrey huddled in her arms, covered in the finest of blankets, entered the room at a quick and carefully. Once Rhaenyra was handed her youngest son, the servants bowed and cleared the room. Aemma watched as her mother retreated into an armchair. It was the only sign of exhaustion that her mother would show, concealed away safely from prying eyes.

"You may tell me Aemma," Rhaenyra spoke, shifting her gaze from her youngest son nestled in her arms to her only daughter standing before her. "I am always your mother first and foremost. I once confided in my own mother as you do now. It is always best to voice your thoughts. Please always know that."

Aemma felt her eyes grow teary again and in the manner she was taught by her mother she had attempted to handle her skirts gracefully to sit upon the armchair before her mother.

"I am looked at strangely by almost everyone I encounter. I do not know what I have done to make people look at me this way. It's not just myself but my brothers too. Members of the Court say that we are b-bastards."

"My dear girl you a Targaryen. You are my daughter. That is all that matters. You have Blood of the Dragon. You descend from old Valyria."

Aemma looked into her mother's blue orbs so deeply she could see the hint of purple swirl within them. All she could see was her mother was sincere and truthful. Her mother's words ceased and soothed Aemma's worries. If Aemma could have looked closer, and not been blinded by her young age, she would have been able to see the deep concern and worry for her children that swelled over her mother's features.

"I'm afraid I have made our leave too long. Your youngest brother is asleep and very much unbothered by the Realm. We must return to our kin and offer our support."

Rhaenyra rose from the chair, gracefully and forced a comforting smile. She would have to suppress the anguish that plagued her for her children. Aemma was a sensitive girl, in tune with those around her, although she was a child,  Rhaenyra could not shield her from the twisted battles that would occur when she reached womanhood and began her courses.

Joffery was still sound asleep in Rhaenyra's arms as she strode across the chamber with great purpose and swiftly out the doors. The wet nurse understandably and delicately took the youngest prince of Rhaenyra Targaryen away.

"I will ensure that Prince Joffery is well attended to in your absence, your grace," the wet nurse informed with a bow.

Rhaenyra bowed in thanks, Aemma coping her mother with a slight curtsey and set off towards the Cliffs of High Tide, just upon the outskirts of the castle itself. Aemma followed instantaneously after her mother and asked, "Would I be able to hold Joffery after we offer our condolences, mother?"

"Of course, my dear girl if the hour is not late. Joffery is your brother," Rhaenyra laughed and to Aemma it sounded like a melody, a chorus that she couldn't help but let out a shrill of giggles to.

The laughter Aemma shared with her mother came to a halt. Aemma watched as her mother shifted, drawing on a facade of pure bravery like a knight going into battle. Rhenerya often told her children that they were her strength and in this very moment, that truth rang true.

"Mother, I am going to find my brothers," Aemma declared walking fast enough, any other time she knew her mother would have scolded her and, wandered into the crowd.

Aemma didn't know where to turn. Both her brothers looked occupied. Jace was offering his condolences to Baela and Rhaena. And Luke was with their grandsire Corlys. Helaena, Aemma decided joyfully. That's who she would go speak to.

"Hello Helaena," Aemma smiled.

"Oh Aemma, I was waiting for you!" Helaena rejoiced, her palms concealing an insect or bug she had found. Aemma dropped down onto the stone flooring beside Helaena, her blue eyes peering downwards to see what was concealed in her palms.

"A spider, how lovely," Aemma confessed to Helaena. "I wish I could find creatures as you do."

Helaena spilled words from her lips and Aemma knew that she could not interrupt her, "hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black; dragons flesh, weaving dragons of thread."

Instead, Aemma found herself forced unwillingly to listen to her two uncles converse due to how loud they spoke. She could not focus on Helaena's words.

"We have nothing in common," Aegon whined to his younger brother.

"She's our sister," Aemond defended.

Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother's sense of righteousness, bringing the goblet of wine to his blood-red lips, "You marry her then."

"I would perform my duty," Aemond muttered softly, his gaze far away. "If mother had only betrothed us."

Aegon scoffs, on the verge of laughing. "If only."

"It would strengthen the family. Keep our Valyrian blood pure."

"She's an idiot."

"She's your future Queen," Aemond's voice did not soften nor grow quiet. How could he dare say such a thing aloud? It was those words that Aemma could feel her blood run cold. Future Queen? Aegon would never sit on the Iron Throne. It was rightfully her mother's and after that Jace's as her heir.

"Do you realise that I can hear everything that you both are muttering nonsense about? Helaena too?" Aemma spoke, her voice firm.

Aegon tilted his head, calculating and cold as he looked down towards her. Yet, still, Aegon laughed at her words.

"This is not your business little niece," Aemond spoke instead. "Venture off somewhere else."

Aegon put his hand on his younger brother's wrist to keep him from speaking. "If she wishes to grow mad with our sister. Let her."

Aemma rolled her eyes, not pressing the matter further. This was a day to remember her Aunt Laena. Her uncles always had a way of meddling things up.

"Helena, I am going to look for my brothers," Aemma told the girl, perhaps a little too loudly so she could drown out the insult to the Targaryen House that Aegon obsessed over wine, calling a lady sever a wrench. "It was a comfort to see you on a day filled with such sorrow."

Helaena offered a shell to Aemma and placed it in her pale palm with a bright smile. "For your collection."

"Thank you," Aemma said as she rose to her feet, turning on her heel to find her brothers. Aemma could feel the gaze of the Queen Consort upon her back, vicious and cold, chilling the young Princess to the bone.

Aemma turned to meet her gaze and she held it for a mere second, watching Alicent Hightower murmur words to Ser Criston Cole.

"Sister," Jace said, reaching for his twin, "I have searched for you. Come and speak to our cousins. Mother said we must offer our condolences."

Baela and Rhena huddled together upon the stone bench, tears staining their cheeks. Aemma stood by her twin's side, her gaze solemn and wary. It was hard to find the words to say instead, she gave her two cousins a shared embrace.

"Thank you, my dear cousins," Baela spoke once Aemma had let go, her voice quivering.

At the sight of their grandmother Rhaenys, she moved and embraced her two granddaughters. That was the moment the two felt the grief of losing their mother truely reveal itself.

Jacaerys offered a weak smile to his twin sister as they both stepped away to give their kin some room. Luke returned to his siblings feeling more at ease and at comfort. It was not uncommon for there grandmother Rhaenys to focus upon her two little cousins much more ⎯⎯ Aemma and her brothers didn't know why exactly. She would never say it aloud but Aemma grew saddened sometimes, it felt that her only family was her mother and her brothers at times. However, on occasion it seemed that when her grandmother Rhaenys looked to Aemma, it was almost if she saw someone else ⎯⎯ a ghost or a haunting memory.

"Go to bed," Rhaenyra spoke sternly once she had found her children.

"But mother ⎯⎯," Jacaerys whined, hesitant. It was still bright and the sun had not faded. The hour was not late.

"Go to bed," Rhaenyra repeated cutting off her eldest, placing a hand on Luke's shoulder as she passed by. Aemma frowned, turning to speak to her mother but she was already gone.