Sun and Fire ~ Aemond Targaryen

04. Consolation after the tragedy

The news of the death of the firstborn son of Prince Aegon Targaryen and Princess Kassaia Martell spread throughout Westeros and representatives of the great houses would travel to offer their condolences and respects.

King Viserys was deeply saddened to hear of the calamity as were the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra and while offered perform the funeral of the child in King's Landing, Prince Aegon insisted that the ceremony be held in Highgarden, the place where his son had mostly been raised and the lands he loved until the end of his days.

The Tyrell family offered the chambers of their castle to accommodate the guests, including the royal family, because although the huge mansion where Aegon and his family lived was colossal, hosting in the great Tyrell castle was the best idea for the huge number of attendees who would arrive the next day.

That early morning, Daemma could not continue sleeping, the sun was not up yet, everything was dark and some stars could be seen in the night sky, she could not continue in bed and put on a long coat and boots to go out. She felt she needed to breathe fresh air or else she would sink in the anguish she carried in her chest, she had tried to behave in front of her younger sister and her parents but her feelings were at the limit.

She started to walk around the training yard and stood watching the straw dummy that Naemon used to train with the sword, she could see the traces of the blows, he wished to become a strong warrior and always strived to do his best.

Daemma remembered that Ser Morros once told them that training was not always about physical strength, but also mental and emotional. Through the sword one could express the feelings that many held back and of course it could serve as an act of release. The fencing was the weak point in Daemma's training but she was still halfway decent brandishing a weapon.

She did not think twice and took the wooden sword that her brother used and began to practice with the same straw dummy that he used.

She gave him accurate, well thought out and rational blows, but suddenly she began to simply hit without thinking, she felt that she just needed to let off steam, she observed the doll and it had ceased to be an inert object for her, she felt that now it represented everything she wanted to destroy at that moment and began to release her emotions hitting it wildly over and over again with all her strength.

She could not believe that her brother had ceased to exist, she could not believe that she would no longer see that boy with whom just a few days ago she had been having breakfast and talking amicably lying on your back in the grass under the pleasant sun. She could not believe that that boy who enjoyed tickling torture him and with whom she always argued and had fun with was dead, dead, dead.

Daemma's eyes were swollen and red, her hands began to bleed from the strong grip of the sword and suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder that brought her out of her trance and she turned around quickly to see that it was Ser Morros Vaith, her instructor, who looked at her with soft yet stern eyes.

"My Lady, it is too late, shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Daemma noticed that she was wrapped in sweat, the muscles of her arms hurt and she began to feel burning in the palms of her hands that were wounded, she felt exhausted, but she did not let the sword go, she held it firmly in her right hand while with her left hand she tried to wipe the sweat from her face and also some tears that she had in her eyes.

"You too, Ser Morros... Why are you standing on the training field at this hour?"

"Probably for the same reason you are."

Ser Morros was a mostly serious man, but deep down he was a nice gentleman and above all he felt a deep affection for his young apprentices, as well as for Princess Kassaia and Prince Aegon, he was someone to be trusted and they all held him in high esteem.