A Dragon's Song

A Mother's Joy

In the months leading up to King Viserys's death, Naerys had never been happier. The echoes of the grand wedding had faded into the background, replaced by the soothing lullabies of motherhood. She had given birth to a strong, healthy baby boy, Aerion. The moment his dragon egg hatched in his cradle, producing a pure white dragon with light purple wing membranes, the entire court had been abuzz. They named the dragon Frostfyre, a fitting name for the offspring of Dreamfyre.

Naerys found herself surrounded by the warmth and affection of the people. The smallfolk of King's Landing adored her, bestowing upon her the title "Queen of Hearts." She had always taken special care of the women and children, but after giving birth, there was a newfound fire in her, a passion that all could see. Naerys would visit the inns, dancing with the common folk, sharing in their laughter and song whenever she could spare time from her duties as a mother.

But her true happiness lay in her son, Aerion. He was a beautiful child, with deep purple eyes that seemed to shimmer with a hint of grey, and creamy silver skin that reflected the Targaryen heritage so strongly. His curly locks were soft to the touch, and Naerys couldn't bear to let anyone else care for him. She refused a wet nurse, insisting on holding and nursing him herself, carrying him everywhere she went. So protective was her love that she didn't want anyone outside her family to hold him. Aerion was an easy child, rarely crying, and he grew more beautiful by the day. Now a year old, Aerion was the pride and joy of his parents, who could not have been more pleased with the child they had brought into the world.

Aemond proved to be not only a fierce warrior but also a devoted and tender father. He was gentle with Aerion, his usually stern face softened in the presence of his son. His love for Naerys had only deepened since their marriage, and together, they found a rare happiness amidst the trials of the court. They still flew together on their dragons, Vhagar and Gaelithox, soaring through the skies as they had in the early days of their relationship. After their wedding, they had embarked on a grand procession, traveling all around Westeros atop their dragons. This journey had not only solidified their bond but also brought them closer to the people their family ruled.

Despite the peace, Aemond's protectiveness never waned. He didn't allow Naerys to enter the city unless she was accompanied by guards, ensuring her safety at all times. Yet, even with these precautions, a sense of foreboding lingered—a looming problem of succession that everyone tried to ignore but could not escape.

Their love was a beacon of hope in a world that seemed to grow darker with each passing day. King Viserys, despite his failing health, had adored his grandson Aerion. The old king would often have the child brought to him, delighting in the boy's presence, and for a time, it seemed as if the shadow of death had retreated in the face of such joy.

As Aerion celebrated his first name day, Naerys looked back on the two years since her wedding. She had never felt more fulfilled, more loved, or more powerful. Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she had created a life that brought joy not only to herself but to all who laid eyes on her son.

But even as she cherished these moments, Naerys couldn't shake the feeling that their tranquility was fragile, like the soft wings of Frostfyre, who was growing stronger every day. She knew the peace she clung to could not last forever.

Then, one early morning, as the first light of dawn began to creep into their chambers, Naerys and Aemond were roused from sleep by a soft knock at the door. The quiet of the hour had seemed almost peaceful, but as soon as they saw Queen Alicent, her face pale and drawn, they knew the peace was over. The look in her eyes told them everything they needed to know. King Viserys was dead.

The world that had been so full of life and love just moments before now seemed to tremble on the brink of darkness. The joy of their union, the pride in their son, and the love that had grown between them now stood on the edge of a precipice, with the looming war threatening to tear it all apart.