Children of Dragons | Aemond Targaryen

IX

And there were times when he was kind and comforting and...aware. Aware of how everyone in the court made her feel, how she needed him again and again - and he was willing to indulge her.

Sometimes.

Only when he allowed it. When his arm so diligently held hers at all of the feasts they've attended since their betrothal.

Aemma had not realized how tightly she held herself, her arms wrapped around her body, her nails biting into the long, soft sleeves of her velvet gown. She shook her hands out, wringing them in front of her before she fisted them at her sides. Her fingers brushed the lump in her gown and she stopped in the middle of the hall.

She took Aemond's gift out of her pocket. The smooth faces of the blue stone reflected the candlelight adorning the walls around her. She had found the rock when she was in a garden courtyard with Helaena, the bright vibrancy of the gem calling to her. She had hidden it in her dress until she was able to return to her quarters where she took it out and studied it. The rock was uncut, with rough edges outlining the various faces. And a blue so deep that in the dark, it was almost black. But in the light, it refracted every bit of shine and shimmer. It reminded her of something. And, eventually, she decided what she wanted to do with it.

She had not known how to go about bringing her vision to life. She had asked Mara, a teasing question about jewelry or craftsmanship. Her friend had laughed, saying something about money and work. Another hesitant question, this time to Helaena, led her to a handmaiden and then to a lady in the court, and then to a servant. It was a long and convoluted process, especially for someone young and so withdrawn from the court that her sudden questions were met with apprehension at every bend. But she had managed, in the end, to find a kind blacksmith in the barracks of the Red Keep who had also been a craftsman, an artisan who worked with metals and ore. She had traded him a few fine pieces of her own jewelry, despite the man's initial protest. But she had insisted. And after seeing the small fortune she offered him, he agreed.

He had done fine work indeed.

The sapphire had been polished and set into silver plating, giving the necklace a smooth back. Small prongs held the stone in place, creeping over the edges. The artisan had filed it down slightly, smoothing it, but leaving the many faces. It was no longer sharp at its many corners and fit roughly into the circular shape of the silver backing. At the apex of the circle lay a bail with a silver chain running through it. She had not given the blacksmith any instructions, just that she wanted the stone to be placed in a necklace for herself, telling him the sapphire held sentimental value and she wished to wear it with her always. With the direction, he had left the various detailing of the necklace simple. All of the attention focused on the stunning rock at its core.

Aemma studied the gift in her palm, letting the light glint off the gem and the metal chain. It seemed silly now, to give it to him. She did not know why she had thought of it. He did not seem inclined to wear jewelry or adorn himself in any way. Perhaps it was how she found the rock, the strange calling she had felt or the attachment she had grown towards it. Indeed, as the days had gone by since she had found the stone, before and after it had been converted into a piece of jewelry, she had found herself reaching for it, staring at it when she could. It was not the blue of her eyes, nor was it the blue of Aemond's eye, which was a similar indigo to hers but with a gray tint, rather than hers which leaned to a more purple hue. And yet, she found herself lost in its gaze, as she often did when she watched Aemond.

But now she wanted rid of it. She wanted to throw it far from whatever tall spire she was in and let it fall into the muck and grime of the city. Never to see it again.

Aemma jumped at the sound of voices ringing out from a nearby corridor. She returned the necklace to her pocket just as a pair of servants rounded the corner.