The Dance of DragonFire -

30

Aemma Velaryon had trouble finding sleep, pain soared through her abdomen, it felt as if something was crushing her insides, twisting and carving them up. Her breath had quickened and sweat had coated her brow. Her usually warm olive skin had turned grey and her lips had turned a dark purple.

The young girl had complained about stomach pains and cramps all over her body all afternoon, her mother Rhaenyra had comforted her, telling her it must be her monthly bleed, because sometimes it could hurt more than one would expect it to, and Maesters and men would look down upon it, even though they could hurt terrible. So Rhaenyra let her daughter spend the afternoon in her rooms rather than having lessons. Aemma felt as if it were no cramps but she didn't want to overreact. So she nodded and went to bed early.

But by midnight the girl's stomach had started to hurt so much she'd cried out into her pillow. She clamped her bedsheets and refused to let anyone in the castle now she was in any abnormal state, she bit down on her pillow and cried silent tears. It took her hours to find sleep, but when she finally did, no rest awaited her. Only shadows and screams, images that flashed through her mind so vividly that they made no sense. Orange and grey, green and red, then a pouring black sky.  Heavy rain, a storm, then blissfull clouds clashed by screaming and the call of a name Aemma couldn't grasp what the dream meant. It was a dragon dream, and she wasn't able to decipher it.

"Aemma." Whispered Aemond as he bowed down his head once more and got up from his knees. Aemma smiled, and did the same, the skin of her knees feeling the scratching of the tiny rocks on the path that she had knelt on, Her dagger felt steady in her hands, even though they slightly trembled. She had sworn herself to Aemond because he did so to her. Yet her word wouldn't mean anything, she wondered if his did. She could kill him right now, as he was vulnerable. She wouldn't, she needed him. Atleast that's what she kept repeating in her head, because a part of her also loved him, always had.

Aemond did solely swear to protect his wife and child, fire roared in his eyes as he stepped forward and reached out his hand. "Let us return inside Princess." 

Aemma took his hand and bit her lip at him. "I-" She sighted and cradled her stomach. "I still don't wish for you to go to the Stormlands." She turned her head slightly, refusing to meet Aemonds gaze as hers met with that of the dark garden, filled with various blooms and plants.

"It makes my stomach turn, I don't know why. It gives me a most sick feeling whenever I think of it." Her voice barely a whisper.

Aemond outstretched his hand and grabbed Aemma's hand once more, he softly smiled while bringing her hands to his lips. "Are you positively it is not our child making you feel ill." 

Aemma pressed her lips together and raised one brow. "Hmhm? I hadn't given that thought yet." She drew in closer to Aemond and rested her forehead against his. "But still." She took Aemond's hand and placed it on her stomach, hoping to convince him. Though his gaze softened and he eyed her stomach for a second before meeting her eyes again. "Truly." Whispered Aemond to himself. "Truly hadn't expected it to feel like this."

Aemma didn't know what he meant, she didn't feel much when she touched her stomach, she felt no special connection or bond with her child, because she wasn't even certain she was with child, though her heartbeat fluttered at Aemond's gesture, her breath got caught in hee throat, and when he bent down his head a little she softly wove her fingers through his hair, before taking his chin and making him look at her.
"Everything we're about to do should be for this child." Whispered Aemma, her gaze hard as she needed him to understand how dire the situation was. Aemond knew, everyone knew, that her brother's were bastards. Aemma knew too, it was evident, though her brother's were also Targaryens, just as much as Aegon or Aemond. 

"I'm a threat to all of them, they just haven't calculated it yet. If  and when they claim me heir to the Velaryon fleet for this war. I shall also be claimed Rhaenyra's heir. As will our firstborn child Aemond." Aemma cast her eyed down, her heart beat quickly in her chest. Het words of deceit made her fingers slightly tremble. She was playing a dangerous game. Though Aemond grabbed her face softly, his fingers stroking her cheeks as he made her look at him. "I have no wish to betray my family Aemma, but one day I will be King, and you'll be Queen by my side. If not through Aegon his own fault, then through your mothers."

Fire roared in the Targaryen prince his eyes, his words echoed through Aemma's skull. Were Aegon to die, then the crown would go to one of Aegon's children. Were they to usurp him, they have a stronger claim than Aemma taking the throne, seeing her mother was still alive, but this plan still had so many loose ends it felt as if Aemma wanted to give up altogether. Part of her wished to just give in and let her be loved by Aemond, support her mother quietly, and have no ambitions, it all seemed so simple and within grasp to just, pretend.

Aemma knew she could atleast try, Aemond would love her, and she'd love him, and she'd be a miserable girl locked away by her mother's usurpers, but she'd be nothing more and nothing less than that, she'd spend her days wearing red and black. Making snide remarks at Councilmen and the new King. That could be her only fight. She'd protect the baby this way, snide remarks wouldn't get her killed. Her status as royal would prevent that. Though it didn't save the councilmen and Lord's that were hanged outside the keep, because they refused to bow down to Aegon.

No, she would never choose the easy path, she'd destroy them all, she would use Aemond, as he used her. She would shove her feelings for him aside and stay clear on her path.

Getting the Hightowers away from the throne. It belonged to the Blacks.