A Dragon's Song

Ashes of Innocence

The war was in full swing. On Driftmark, the Sea Snake's ships set sail from Hull and Spicetown to close the Gullet, choking off trade to and from King's Landing. Prince Daemon had bloodlessly taken Harrenhal. Unrest had risen in the city as people began to go hungry. She was no longer allowed out. Violence had begun to happen much more frequently, and Aemond no longer trusted her. She had not even been able to ride Gaelithox in a week, Aemond fearing that she might take off toward Dragonstone. Gaelithox was growing restless; she felt it. Aemond would hardly even look at her. She couldn't confide in anyone; no one else could know about her betrayal. She feared what would happen if Otto Hightower or even Aegon found out, especially with Aegon growing quick to anger recently. She feared being sent to the dungeons.

Criston Cole and Aemond were in Naerys and Aemond's chambers, planning their war. Their voices were drowned out by her thoughts. She came back to reality and started to watch Aerion play, his sweet, innocent face full of joy. Naerys stood up and grabbed Aerion, who was on the floor playing with his toys—specifically the one Naerys had made that resembled Gaelithox.

"Where are you going, wife?" Aemond's emotionless voice asked.

Naerys turned to see his and Cole's cold gazes piercing her. "To see Helaena," she replied, and with that, she turned to leave.

Naerys took Aerion to Alicent's chambers up in the Tower of the Hand to see Jaehaera and Jaehaerys. She knew every night Helaena went there, and sometimes Naerys joined her. The children played together while Helaena and Naerys talked about anything but the war. They reminisced about happier times, discussed the children's antics, and shared light-hearted stories to distract themselves from the growing darkness outside. Alicent listened quietly, occasionally smiling at their stories, though her eyes were heavy with worry.

Suddenly, Alicent gasped as two men walked in with knives. One of them snatched up Maelor. "Scream, and you all die," one of them threatened.

The other man barred the door.

"Who are you?" Helaena demanded of the two.

"Debt collectors," said one of them. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We only want the one, t' square things. Won't hurt the rest o' you fine folks, not one lil' hair. Which one you want t' lose, Your Grace?"

Once she realized what he meant, Queen Helaena pleaded with the men to kill her instead.

"A wife's not a son," the man sneered. "It has to be a boy."

"Pick," he said coldly, "or we kill them all."

On her knees, weeping, Helaena named Maelor.

"You hear that, little boy?" Cheese whispered to Maelor. "Your momma wants you dead." Then he gave the other man a grin, and the hulking swordsman slew Prince Jaehaerys, striking off the boy's head with a single blow.

The queen began to scream. One of the men ran to her, pressing the knife to her throat. Naerys's blood ran cold. Another man approached her. "Prince Lucerys was worth two of you green bastards."

Narys glanced at Aerion's face, oblivious to what was happening. She rushed to him, reaching out. She was about to scream when she was hit in the head, hard. She fell to the ground. The man smiled down at her as he slayed her sweet son.

———

Naerys's mind drifted back to a happier time, a memory of soaring through the skies over King's Landing. She, Aegon on Sunfyre, Aemond on Vhagar, and Helaena on Dreamfyre. The four dragons danced in the air, their scales gleaming in the sunlight, casting long shadows over the city below. She could still feel the wind in her hair, hear the laughter of her brothers and sister, and the sense of freedom that came with each beat of Gaelithox's wings. Those were the days when the bonds between them felt unbreakable when the worries of the world were far below, and the future seemed bright.

"Naerys," Aemond's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife, pulling her back to the cold, harsh reality she was now trapped in. As she heard his voice, memories of Aerion, her sweet boy, flooded back to her. The ache in her heart became unbearable, and the tears she had fought so hard to hold back began to flow freely once more. The weight of her grief crushed her, and she began to sob uncontrollably, her body shaking with each heaving breath.

Her head throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her chest. Her son had been murdered. The realization hit her again like a dagger to the heart. Her precious, innocent boy was gone. The tears streamed down her face as she choked on her grief, her hands trembling as she wiped at her wet cheeks.

Finally, through her tears, Naerys met Aemond's gaze. His eyes were filled with a sorrow that mirrored her own. She wanted to push him away, to scream at him for everything that had happened. Had he not let his anger control him, Lucerys might still be alive. If he had allowed her to send her letter, Aerion might still be breathing. But as much as she wanted to blame him, she couldn't. She had no one left in her heart besides Aemond anymore. The rage in her heart was beginning to match his.

"We could rain fire down on them," Naerys snarled, her voice hoarse from crying. The fury in her eyes was palpable. They would be no match for Vhagar and Gaelithox.

"Let them come to us," Aemond said firmly, though his voice was laced with sadness. "We will be better prepared."

Naerys's rage flared again. "This war is going to be won with dragons, not with armies. We have the advantage—why not strike now?"

Aemond shook his head, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "I won't risk your life, Naerys. I can't. Not after what we've lost. I couldn't bear to lose you too."

Naerys turned her back to him, her shoulders still shaking from the sobs that had yet to fully subside. The anger and grief twisted together inside her, a storm she could barely control. But then Aemond stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind. It had been a long time since he had held her like this, and despite everything, she needed the comfort. She leaned into him, though her mind still raced with dark thoughts.

"They are going to hold a funeral procession through the city," Aemond began softly. "I think it's important you attend. Helaena and Alicent will be with you."

"My son's body is to be paraded through the city?" Naerys whispered, horrified, her voice breaking.

"The Hand believes it will garner support for our cause," Aemond replied, his voice pained.

Naerys sighed and nodded her head. She would do anything to see her enemies turned to ash. A blind, dark rage was growing within her. She thought about leaping onto Gaelithox and bringing down their fury onto Dragonstone. She might not survive, but she hoped she could take down those responsible for her innocent son's death. Gaelithox was larger than Meleys and Caraxes. With Vhagar, they could rain fire and blood on them, she thought bitterly. But as Aemond held her, she understood why he didn't want to risk it.