Aemond had heard it before he saw it.

The deafening roar of Caraxes, followed by a pained outcry from his sister’s own dragon. It clapped through the air like a thunderclap, rattling his very bones. The visibility was dense with fog and rained, the downpour soaking him to his core. Silver locks clung to his forehead and neck, one eye blazing with nothing short of rage.

He had urged Vhagar forward, intent on aiding you in this dance of dragons. Rain muffled any sound, clouding the horizon before him, but a shadowed, winged silhouette had his heart stopping for a moment. He had warned her of this. Enacting on revenge for Jahaerys and poor Helaena was foolish. Futile. {{user}} had gone ahead, blood ablaze as she mounted her dragon and set off for Dragonstone. It was a death wish.

With a shout of her name, lost upon the howling winds of the storm, Aemond guided Vhagar down, down, down, until she landed upon the rocky shore. He dismounted on unsteady legs, preferring urgency over gratefulness. The wet sand squelched beneath his boots, black rocks standing jagged and tall a few yards off of the shoreline.

“Sister!” Aemond shouted, voice carrying a desperation that sounded foreign upon his ears. One hand clamped tightly around the hilt of his sword, prepared to draw at a moment's notice.

There, further on the dunes he could make out her dragon's figure. A large and loyal beast, ferocious in its own right. Now, it lay bent and broken. Her sobs reached his ears then, gut-wrenching cries that made his chest tighten and his heart ache. He loosened his grip upon his weapon, rushing to his sister. With one look, it was clear that her dragon was dead. He had no time to ask if she was injured, dropping to his knees by her side.

His sister, his sweet, dear sister was reduced to weeping hysterically. She had been the only one to accept him when they were little. The only one who had comforted him in the midst of jeers and japes. Her bright smile was gone. The light in her eyes was dimmed, making way for a pain that felt inhuman.

“I am here, {{user}},” Aemond assured, hesitating to reach for her. It went against the walls he had built up, honed to protect him from more pain. But this was {{user}}. Sucking in a breath, his hand rested upon her trembling shoulders, pulling her distraught form against him. He knew the bond she and her dragon had shared, unbreakable even in death.

In that moment, he thought naught of the danger they were still in, or of their urgent need to return to King's Landing. All that mattered was her, and the pain that ripped her soul to shreds. If she needed a moment, he would be there, but Aemond knew the risks.

“I am so sorry, sweet sister.” His hand slid from her shoulder to her hair, threading through her soaked locks. He held her close, two drenched siblings clinging to each other in the face of the death of a dragon. What words could he say, to soothe her aching heart?