You find yourself in the quiet solitude of your chamber, the weight of your grief heavy in the air. The room is still, save for the soft rustle of your dress as you shift restlessly by the window. The night outside is dark and indifferent, mirroring the emptiness that has settled in your heart.

Aegon sits at the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped in a way that you’ve rarely seen. His usual composure is gone, replaced by a raw vulnerability that cuts through the cold silence. You approach him slowly, the sight of him so broken makes your own heart ache more deeply.

You sit beside him, your hand reaching out to find his. a rare gesture from either of you. His fingers are cold, and he grasps yours with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with his usual strength. You see the tears in his eyes, and they mirror your own. The loss of your son has left a void that feels as if it can never be filled. The pain is a living thing, an ever-present, crushing presence between the two of you.