Their souls might have split upon their births, but they never stopped burning as one.
Aemma and Aemond were meant to live together, die together, to burn as one.
But when war breaks out, they have to make a choice.
Is their hatred for each othe...
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" Oh my sweet child, my little girl I'm so sorry Aemma." Rhaenyra grabbed her daughter as soon as she got off Syrax.
When the death of Laenor reached Dragonstone, Rhaenyra immediately rode Syrax to Driftmark.
Aemma didn't move when her mother pulled her against her. Even her smell wasn't enough to make her forget the smell of her father's flesh.
" Are you okay ? Rhaenys told me how it happened I wish I had been there.." Rhaenyra grabbed her daughter's face before kissing her forehead and hugging her again.
Aemma didn't reply anything. She had spent her night crying in Trystane's arms, refusing to see anyone else. She had eventually allowed her grandmother to come to her and stay with her until the beginning of the funeral.
Aemma was wearing the same gown she wore for Laena's funeral. It all looked the same, except that the rest of the royal family didn't make it to the funeral.
Aemma was so mad, she couldn't forget how strange her father had acted the last time she saw him, and she was sure that he knew he was threatened. She wished she had been there to protect him.
Rhaenyra understood that her daughter wouldn't say anything so she stood and put her hand on her shoulder to make her feel her presence.
Later that day, Jace and Luke arrived from Dragonstone but Aemma didn't say anything to them. Looking at the coffin waiting to be thrown into the sea.
When it happened, Aemma fell on her knees and cried. She knew would never recover from that loss.
She thought she was sad when Ser Harwin died, but it was nothing compared to what she was feeling now.
She could feel her heart burning her, and she was surprised not to see any blood coming out of her mouth. It was all so painful.
Her body was shaking and this time no one could make her feel better, not even her mother. Her brothers were sad too, even if Laenor had only sired Aemma, he had raised them as if they were his own. They had lost both their fathers in the span of week. But Aemma had seen it, she knew the truth, she had seen his burnt body, smelled his flesh, she had been there.
Jace and Luke had been told that he had lost a fight against a thieve, not that he had been attacked by his own paramour and found burnt alive by their sister.
The ceremony didn't last long, princess Rhaenys and her husband were both too broken and just wanted to be alone in their grief.
" My sweet Aemma.." Rhaenys whispered in her ear kneeling next to her.
" I don't want him to be gone grandmother..." Aemma cried out grabbing her grandmother to cry against her.
" I know sweet child, the gods are cruel, but I know he loved you more than anything." She softly spoke up, caressing her hair. " We—" she contained a sob, " We must move on, continue to live for them, to honor them.."
