Chapter 131: Filler Arc ― Aemma, Jacaerys, and Rhaenyra

                                    

                                          
Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast...
Aemma assisted her aunt, Princess Rhaenyra, in caring for the youngest members of House Targaryen. Alongside her daughter, Princess Saena, who had just turned one, Aemma also dedicated herself to assisting her aunt in raising her cousins, the young princes Aemon and Baelon, who are now ages five and three. She took on the role of a maternal caretaker to the children, ensuring that the children were well-fed, clothed, and educated in these tumultuous times. She spent countless hours playing with them, teaching them the history and traditions of their family, instilling in them the values of honor and familial loyalty to each other, and comforting them when they were scared or upset. After mourning the loss of her brother Viserys and allowing herself time to heal, Aemma understood that although the emotional scars inflicted during the Dance remained, dwelling in self-pity would not turn back time or heal wounds. She had to stay strong for her mother, Aegon, Jaehaerys, and even her father―her entire family.
"Now, now, Aemon. Don't put it in your mouth - that's not for eating. It's okay, Baelon. Iāpanna kesīr. (Your cousin's here.)"
Aemon, with a lean face and body, gazed up at Aemma. His dark purple eyes seemed almost black, and his silver hair was so pale it was nearly white. He continued to play with his wooden blocks. Baelon, on the other hand, was a more curious and lively boy despite being frail. He accepted a toy dragon from his mother, Rhaenyra, and joined his brother in play.
Stormcloud, Aemon's dragon, was a young hatchling who liked to stay close to the Targaryen princeling. As the smallest of the Targaryen dragons, Stormcloud was about the size of a small dog with dark grey scales and deep violet wing membranes. Despite his small size, Stormcloud was fiercely loyal and protective of Aemon. He would puff out his chest and let out a low growl whenever anyone approached too closely to the prince and would curl up next to him while he slept, keeping watch over him throughout the night. He made chirping and squawking sounds while tilting his head curiously to one side.
However, any semblance of familial unity was what it appeared.
Despite her efforts to uphold the grace and dignity expected of a Targaryen princess, Rhaenyra couldn't conceal the sorrow etched on her face following the tragic passing of her second son, Lucerys. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot from endless weeping; her cheeks were streaked with dirt, and her once lustrous Valyrian silver hair was now unkempt. Silently, she observed her fourth and fifth sons, lost in her own world of grief. But deep down, Rhaenyra couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that consumed her.
"Rhaenyra ñāmar. (Aunt Rhaenyra.)"
Rhaenyra lifted her head to notice her niece's eyes fixated on her. "Daor. (No.)" she finally spoke, shifting in her seat. "We both knew it was the Caltrops who caused all this. None of this would have happened had it not been for their scheming and ambitions. Your father can punish them for their crimes; may they all burn. Especially that one-eyed monster Aemond." She practically spat out that name. "Those Stormlanders we captured deserve not much better; they should suffer for rising against their liege lord."
Aemma was shocked as she tried to make sense of Rhaenyra's sudden change in demeanor. She had always looked up to her aunt as a little girl, but now she couldn't help but question her current state of mind. Was this thirst for vengeance a sign of weakness or a necessary evil in times of war? She couldn't help but worry if the same madness that afflicted her father was now affecting her aunt. As she pondered the implications of her aunt's actions, Aemma couldn't shake the unease that settled in her stomach. Aegon, Jaehaerys, Baela, Rhaena, Joffrey, Aemon, and Baelon - would they, too, lose themselves to the darkness that now seemed to cloud their family's legacy? What was the point of winning the war if they were losing the battle within themselves? How could they hope to rule the Seven Kingdoms if they could not even control their own dark impulses and inhuman desires?