Hollow Crown ↬ Daenerys Targaryen

07

        Percy was right, as he half expected to be the entire time. Upon the seige of Castly Rock, it was discovered that the Lannister forces had taken High Garden, the main source of wealth and vegetation in Westeros.

        He thought he would feel at least some spiteful satisfaction as the knowledge that he was correct about Daenerys's plan failing. Maybe even coerce an apology out of the queen.

        But instead of feeling satisfaction, all he felt was a painful hollowness that had settled itself in his chest the moment Tyrion informed him of Olenna Tyrell's death.

        He had felt it many times before, an emotional pain that would leave him numb to everything but his mind. The first time, was when he first heard the rumor about his mother and uncle. Attending lessons was already tiring enough when he was a child, having had the mindset that he didn't need them.

        But then he heard a few of the maesters speaking about the oddness that all of the kings children had blonde hair. Percy, of course, put the pieces together and realized the truth to the rumors not long after.

        The second time was when his eyes set upon the golden coffin that his sister rested in from the shore of Blackwater Bay. His mother has broken down into tears upon realising her daughter was dead, but all Percy could do was stare blankly at the ship.

        Percy wishes he could have felt that same hollowness when Cersei blew the Sept of Balor. He wishes that he didn't have to feel the agonizing pain of his brother and lovers deaths every single day.

        A dragon roars from the sky, but he doesn't think much of it.

        His knuckles graze the rim of his cup, eyes set on the horizon that's viewed from his window. The shutters blow softly with the wind, creating a ticking sound that has his ears ringing. Everything around him seems enhanced, almost as if making up for his lack of emotion.

        He knows of course that they'll hit him sometime later on, but his mind and body beg for a release. His mind drifts to the letter from his Uncle Jamie, informing him of his seige of HighGarden, the destruction of Daenerys's fleet, and the kidnapping of Yara and Ellaria. Every single one of their allies, gone.

        With a swift move, he grabs the cup, still full of wine, and hurls it at the wall as hard as possible, a cry leaving his lips. It shatters into a million tiny shards, scattering around his room.

        He feels a warmnees trickle from his forehead, covering his right eyelid. He slowly reaches up, pulling the small, surviving shard of glass from his eyebrow. It gleams as the sun shifts, hitting it just enough to cause a glare.

        His eyes burn from the pressure of his tears, and he doesn't notice his door open softly as he silently cries. The blood mixes with his tears, creating a disgusting salty metallic taste as it touches his lips. He clenches the shard tightly in his palm, feeling the wound and finding a relief as more pain is inflicted to himself. Did Olenna feel pain?

        A soft, pale hand is placed over his, and he turns his head to look at Daenerys. Her eyes hold pity and sadness, though not shedding a tear. She unwraps his palm, taking the glass gently from its burrow. After making him sit, the queen places a wet cloth over his wounds, rubbing gently before requesting a stitching kit.

        He watches her work, her hands moving carefully to stitch his wound and prevent infection. She seems uncomfortable with his gaze, glancing up at him every few seconds with furrowed brows, but she doesn't say anything. Once she's done, she sits herself elegantly on the chair across from him, purple eyes holding a silent concern that makes his heart warm slightly.