A Dragon's Song

Grief's Flight

Naerys had lost interest in most things she once found joy in. The melodies that once filled her chambers had faded into silence, as she could no longer find solace in reading or writing songs. Her quill lay untouched, and the books that once brought her comfort gathered dust. Her sole comfort was her family, those who shared in her grief and understood the depths of her sorrow.

She flew on Gaelithox much more often now, their flights offering her a temporary escape from the relentless pain that gripped her heart. The bond between Naerys and Aemond had deepened in their shared grief, the weight of their loss bringing them closer than ever before. They found solace in each other's arms, sharing slow kisses and holding one another as if afraid to let go. In those quiet moments, they were reminded that they were not alone in their suffering.

One of the men responsible for her son's death had been apprehended, captured with the head of Prince Jaehaerys in his possession. The man had been tortured, his screams echoing through the halls of the Red Keep as he confessed to his intentions. He had been trying to reach Harrenhal, where he sought a reward from Prince Daemon. This confirmed everyone's worst suspicions—that Rhaenyra and Daemon were behind the murders of their sons. The revelation fueled the fire of rage and hatred within the Greens.

Aegon, consumed by his own grief and fury, had ended the man's life himself, his actions driven by a need for vengeance. But the act brought no relief. The loss of their sons continued to weigh heavily on them all, leaving scars that no amount of blood could heal.

Helaena, however, had been faring perhaps even worse than Naerys. The once gentle and kind princess had retreated into herself, unable to bear the weight of her grief. She could not bathe, could not eat, and could not even look at her remaining son, Maelor, without breaking down. The sight of her in such a state broke Naerys's heart further, knowing that the sister was slipping away.

———

Naerys's face was solemn as she, Helaena, and Alicent were carried through the city in carriages for the funeral procession of Prince Jaehaerys and her son, Prince Aerion. The air was thick with mourning, and the low murmur of the crowd's sympathies reached her ears like a distant hum. The city seemed to move as one with the funeral march, and for a moment, Naerys felt as if the entire world was sharing her grief.

The people pressed closer as the carriages moved through the narrow streets, and Naerys caught glimpses of tear-streaked faces, their expressions a mixture of sorrow and empathy. The sight of it filled her with a bittersweet comfort—here were people who understood, who shared in her pain, if only a fraction of it.

But as the carriage hit a snag and came to an abrupt halt, the mood shifted. The common folk began to crowd even closer, and what had felt like a comforting embrace now bordered on suffocation. The air grew heavy with the mix of body heat and the scent of sweat and grief. Naerys, ever calm in the presence of the people, noticed the shift in Helaena immediately. Her sisters breathing became rapid, her eyes darting around like a trapped animal's.

"It's alright, Helaena, they can't hurt you," Naerys whispered, her voice soothing despite the turmoil inside her. Alicent reached out to comfort her daughter, trying to pull Helaena into a hug, but it only worsened her panic. Helaena's eyes grew wild, and she began to shake her head furiously.

"Mother, Helaena needs space," Naerys said gently but firmly, her words slipping out before she could stop them. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized she had accidentally called Alicent "mother." The word felt foreign on her tongue, yet it carried a warmth she hadn't expected. "Sorry," she whispered, looking down.

Alicent, who had been so distant since the start of the war, looked at Naerys with a softness in her eyes, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "That's alright, Naerys," she replied, her voice carrying a tone of acceptance. The words held a significance that went beyond the moment—Alicent had been kinder to Naerys recently, her harshness mellowed by shared grief.