𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡

Back From The Dead

Rhaenyra covered her mouth and leaned on the balcony as her muffled cries filled the air.

Otto and King Viserys walked side by side down the solemn halls, draped in mourning black, the weight of grief palpable in the air. The echoes of their footsteps reverberated against the stone walls as they made their way to the funeral that awaited them.

King Viserys, his regal bearing softened by sorrow, spoke with measured tones, "Otto, in times like these, we find ourselves tethered to duty and tradition. Funerals demand a certain decorum, a ritual that transcends the personal, binding us to the legacy of those who have departed."

Otto nodded, his expression mirroring the somber mood. "Indeed, Your Grace. Funerals are a canvas of collective mourning, a space where grief intertwines with respect. Our attire, the way we carry ourselves, each detail bears witness to our acknowledgment of the solemnity of the occasion."

As they continued down the hall, King Viserys' gaze fixed ahead, lost in his thoughts. A subtle monolog unfolded within him, "In times of loss, the burden of leadership becomes both an anchor and a storm. A monarch must navigate the treacherous waters of sorrow while upholding the dignity of the crown. Every step in these halls is a step toward honoring not just the departed, but the continuity of our realm."

Otto, attuned to the unspoken weight in the air, added, "It is a delicate balance, Your Grace. We mourn the past, yet we must ensure the stability of the future. In attending this funeral, we not only pay respects but also reaffirm our commitment to the realm's resilience."

"My dear friend... It seems like the Gods won't allow me to have a son..." Viserys muttered while exhaling.

Otto raised his eyebrows and spoke, "Your Grace... You do have a son. Aemond. Do not forget."

"Oh yes. Aemond. How could I have forgotten? My son, my only son." Viserys smiled slightly.

"You have... Daeron as well... Your Grace..." Otto reminded him again. But Viserys felt troubled about forgetting his son so he just nodded to Otto.

"Did you prepare a speech? Your Grace, it is important." Otto asked

"Of course I have, he was my son. I have plenty to say." Viserys shook his head.

"And what about the girl?" Otto mumbled quietly but loud enough for Viserys to hear him.

"What about her?" Viserys chuckled, "I left her father to worry about her part, she was not mine." He added.

Otto simply nodded his head, he knew Daemon wasn't fond of the girl. He didn't want her there it was obvious. And Otto himself strongly thought that he had to do something with their deaths. But there was no arguing with a person who didn't want to listen, so he opened the door for the King and they walked down to the beach.

As Otto and King Viserys approached the beach, a solemn scene unfolded before them. A pile of wood, carefully stacked, stood as a silent testament to the grief that enveloped the whole Targaryen family. Rhaenys, flanked by her two granddaughters and Thereya's sisters, Baela and Rhaena, stood in mourning attire, a tableau of sorrow etched upon their faces.

Rhaena, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, grieved the loss of a sister. Her sorrow was palpable, a quiet lament for the bond severed too soon. Baela, with an angry furrow on her brow, held back tears that betrayed her defiance against the cruel hand fate had dealt. The mixture of pain and fury was well seen on her face.

Alicent, clutching Aemond's and Helaena's hands, stood amidst the heart-wrenching scene. Her tears mirrored the breaking of her heart, a mother grappling with the unimaginable loss of her children.