Baelon II Velaryon is the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like his mother he was a strong willed dragon rider. Built for the clouds and forged for fire. He was meant for greatness. But the legacy of his family weighed heavily on his shoulders.
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Baelon couldn't watch as the guards readied his aunt's stone sarcophagus, not when all he could think about was his father, the father who was burned alive. He couldn't stand beside his mother when all he wanted to do was cry.
He stood alone, far enough to go unnoticed, but close enough to hear everything.
Helaena steps towards him, subtly reaching over and cupping his hand. Baelon turns and he meets her worried gaze, both ignoring Vaemond who was busy reciting his eulogy.
"Issi ao okay." Helaena whispers in high Valyrian. Out of the whole clutch of Targaryen children, Helaena was the only one who excelled in high Valyrian. Baelon was jealous of her fluency, but he was getting there.
Baelon smiles, replying in English. "I'm fine." Baelon states, only to stop in his reply when he hears a chuckle. Daemon was silently giggling at his wife's funeral. The already somber mood worsened.
So did Baelon's. "Great, like we need a fight to break down." The young Prince scoffs angrily, pulling away from Helaena, and walking off.
Helaena watches after him, her eyes filled with sadness for her nephew. She slowly and hesitantly turns when she feels a presence beside her. Aemond steps up beside her, his face void of emotion. "What?" Helaena asks, noticing the look in his eye. Aemond glares down at her, stepping away and towards the direction Baelon left.
....
Baelon glares harshly out towards the ocean, ignoring anything and everything. "You are missing the ceremony." Aemond announces, knowing comfort wouldn't help.
"Mm." Baelon hums, his hands balled up at his sides, stiffening when he feels Aemond's clammy palm cupping his tightened fist.
Aemond stares at the back of his head, worried.
....
Aemond and Baelon were back in the courtyard where they were holding Leana's wake. Rhaenyra approaches Baelon, grabbing his arm. "Sister." Aemond mumbles awkwardly, making his way towards his other sister, who was on the ground, watching them attentively.
"Let's go meet your brothers." Rhaenyra says, gently pulling him behind her.
Everyone watched him as they passed. They haven't forgotten, they all knew he left to mourn his father. He felt the heat of their scornful gaze.
