AURANE IS STILL COVERED IN ASH. he'd followed aegon to rook's rest, landed syndor on the ground ; and when the enemy forces charged him, the shadowed prince held his ground fairly well. he did not see what happened in the air, beyond sunfyre streaking down to earth, like a comet. he'd chased the procession all the way home, slamming into the room where they said aegon had been taken. he'd feared the only thing he may see is his brother, battered and broken and dead ----

but he was alive. alive, and aurane can hardly breathe. it's as if he can feel his own skin burning, his own heart beating outside of his chest. " you will be fine. " he can hear himself say. there's strength there,but barely. aurane reaches out, takes a moment to smooth back the silver hair he'd so wished for as a child. " aegon, you must look to me. it will hurt, but you will be okay, soon. " aurane doesn't believe it even as he says the words, and he finds it hard to keep the tears from falling down his cheeks. as maesters and apprentices alike slowly begin working on aegon's burned flesh, aurane can do nothing but sit in a corner, head in his hands. if this ends -- if aegon stops breathing -- he would be next. he knows he would be next, and the idea causes a sudden dizziness upon him.

aurane does not leave the bedchamber for hours upon hours. the maesters leave and come back and leave again, and not once did they tell him to leave his twin's side. he would have killed them, if they had. as time passes, as aurane sleeps with his head against the edge of the king's bed, those same maesters come and bow lower to him. as if, in their minds, aegon was already upon a funeral pyre ! but he is not, and he is still breathing, and aurane's bleary eyes looks up to his face, whispering yet another soft anecdote in high valyrian. something pointless ; a story they'd heard as boys they'd both once had committed to memory, all for the hope of aegon softly repeating the words back to him.  

SHE DREAMS OF THEM, those dead children she mourns too often. alysanne blinks away some unshed tears ( she has done that too often, these days ), and watches jaehaerys take her hand into his own. " it is not your fault, my darling. " the queen says softly, her voice slightly choked with the emotion that came with a grieving mother. " . . . but it is difficult not to think of how they may have been, grown. " aegon and daenerys, so young, still. aegon only days old, and daenerys, so full of life -- before the cold took her away. and now, cold they would forever be, and her head bows to her lap as a wayward sob escapes. she is so grateful for her children, each of them ( aemon, baelon, alyssa ), but alysanne cannot help but mourn daenerys and aegon, each time the day turns dark. she holds to her pregnant belly with her free hand, feeling another life stir within her for the sixth time. " i pray for this one's safety each night. perhaps the mother may finally see fit to grant my prayers. " 

✦ ───────── continued from here with @valyrius

alicent went still, the air between them thick, heavy with all that had never been said.  she had been so young when she had him, too young. the weight of motherhood had been thrust upon her. she remembered it like it was yesterday. that first flutter beneath her stomach, a heartbeat within her own. the night she felt aegon stir for the first time, she had lain awake in wonder, one hand pressed to her stomach. then he had been hers, and hers only.

❝  i loved you from the moment i first felt you move within me. you were mine before the realm could claim you. ❞

she remembered the silver hair of a toddler, soft as moonlight, the way pride had filled her so completely it almost hurt. everyone had told her to rest, to hand him off to the nurses, but she would not. even when her body ached, even when she was heavy with another child, she had kept him close, always keeping him in her arms. no mother could ever wish to send their sons over for slaughter, to see her children torn apart. she had her part in that, alicent knew it, but what could she have done? the blacks would have murdered her children to secure their right. she couldn't let that happen.

❝  you think i do not care, but that is not true. i would give my life a thousand times over for yours, and if the gods could make us trade places, i would. ❞

neither of them could have expected this, but they make the best of it. isn't that what they are supposed to be ? as princes, as brothers. they will follow each other to the end, even if the end is five minutes from now. their carriage rocks as it moves across cobblestone ; aurane looks towards aegon as his words of concern come forth. ( ❝ i need you…i can’t do this by myself. ❞  ) 

the second born can do nothing more than what he always has. he would be nothing without him ; aurane would do anything for him. " you will not have to. " outside, the crowd grows as it follows the royal procession. they do not dare to knock on the windows of the carriage, not today, but aurane can hear them. they cheer for the new king's wellbeing, his long and successful reign. it makes him feel a little ill, but he takes a breath. " i will be here, you know. as i always have. " but he cannot stop thinking -- in a mere hour, or perhaps two, things will change between them forever.

AEGON HAS ONLY BEEN DEAD FOR A DAY AND A HALF. she had screamed, horribly, when they stole his little body away from her -- he had seemed so peaceful ! wrapped in blankets and with a fluff of that famous targaryen silver hair. he was perfect, and sleeping.

and they stole him from her.

alysanne has barely slept since, if only for a few minutes at a time. she believes she can hear his cry, somewhere in the depths of the keep. but no, it is silent. silent, and her imagination only, the maesters say. she spends hours staring out of the window this day in particular, watching the sun slowly sink. silverwing ! that winged companion of hers calls from the skies, in a song of mourning that is for her, and her alone. knees drawn to chest, long hair down and slightly tangled, alysanne watches her dragon cross along the sunset, silver wings dazzling even from this distance. only then does she hear her love ! jaehaerys, who she turns to see.

" i hear his voice. " alysanne says, voice breaking. she has not spoken for hours. the young queen's watch was vigilent, if nothing else. his cries echo through the halls in the dead of night, a little phantom come to haunt. " oh, jaehaerys. . . " her face is in her hands now, and the the heel of her palms dig into her eyes. hot tears sting and wet her face. " it is their fault, the women at the pool . . . they have caused his death, it is not my doing . . . " she knows some on the council think differently -- that perhaps alysanne was unfit to bare children, if her first turned out so unwell.