He stands as still as a statue as the priest says the words.
Inspirational. Wonderful. Charming. He barely listens to the endless stream of appreciation for his mother and sister.
He knows who they were. He doesn't need the priest to tell him about his mother's soft smile, or Rhaenys' infectious grin.
He doesn't need Uncle Viserys to remember the warm and sticky summer evenings when he and Rhaenys would eat Dornish ice cream on the rusty old swings in the backyard.
He doesn't need Uncle Doran to recall the spicy fruit pies his mother made. The pies that somehow always ended up smeared around their mouths, rather than in them.
He just needs himself.
One by one, the speeches are made. Sometimes he listens, other times he doesn't. Besides, they're all smart enough to know that his disregard for them is from grief, not ignorance.
He doesn't sing any of the songs. They remind him too much of the lullabies his mother used to sing to him when he was younger.
He doesn't place any flowers on their coffins. Flowers were always Rhaenys' things. At least they have the decency to bury her with the wildflowers that she loved so much.
He watches through misty eyes as the Sand Snakes carry the coffins and lower them into their designated holes in the earth. At least in death, they'll be amongst family. Martell, not Targaryen, the way they would have wanted.
He doesn't even look at his father during the service. He can't tolerate the man when he's happy, much less in mourning. He doesn't deserve that courtesy after what he did to his ex-wife.
Jon doesn't say anything either, but Aegon doesn't mind. Jon has always been quiet, and that normality is a blessing for Aegon. When he hears the whispers and the angry mutters directed towards his father when he talks about Rhaenys, Aegon cannot bring himself to respond. But when they try and do the same for Jon, he glares at them with fire in his eyes.
The second that the funeral is over, Aegon walks off, even while his father protests. A small part of him knows that he ought to go talk to him, but a greater part of him can't forget how his mother used to cry herself to sleep when she found out the love of her life had had a child with another woman before Aegon and Rhaenys were even born.
But he could never hate his half-brother, and when he sees Jon stop his father pursuing him, Aegon gives a tiny, imperceptible nod to him.
The guests are awful. Most of the condolences he hears are truthful, but there is only so many times he can hear "I'm sorry." Many of them are only here to maintain appearances. Arryn, Tully, Greyjoy, Tyrell, Baratheon, Lannister…perhaps a handful truly care about him, but it is hard for him to appreciate their concern when so many simply don't care.
His father and Jon deal with the formalities while he wonders aimlessly, trying to retain what little composure he has. His friends have the decency to give him the privacy he needs, and when the hugs he receives from Rhaenys' friends are brief.
The guests slowly disperse, quiet slowly returning to the cemetery. He finds Uncle Doran talking quietly to Uncle Oberyn. The police officers are almost unnoticeable amidst the tombstones, giving Oberyn enough privacy to mourn before he returns to prison.
The two brothers let Aegon come to them quietly as they share stories of their sister with tender voices. Oberyn gently traces his sister's tombstone with the same hands that beat Gregor Clegane to a bloody pulp, and Doran offers Aegon a wildflower to lay on his sisters grave. When it is time for Oberyn to leave, Aegon accepts his hug. Even if his uncle is a murderer, if it wasn't for him Aegon wouldn't be able to sleep at night.
When they're both ready, Aegon wheels his uncle down to the car park slowly, taking time to breath in the scents of the cemetery, wondering if his mother and sister would be able to smell them in the afterlife.
By the time they reach the car park, only a few guests remain, and they're the ones who count. Ned, Catelyn, Jon, Robb and Sansa all give him warm embraces, and Bran and baby Rickon offer him well wishes. Lyanna says kind words, and he even lets his father give him a hug, because in spite of everything, he lost his ex-wife and his daughter.
And while he thanks them, he waits until they've left before he finally lets it out.
The second that the departing cars are no longer visible, Arya embraces him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the tears come out. He pulls the only person in the world who understands him close and for a long time he just cries into her shoulder. They don't say a word, and they don't need to. Because beneath all of her grit and dry wit, Arya knows what he needs right now. She was there for him when he found what was left of his sister and mother, and she would not leave his side until she knew he was okay.
When the endless cascade of tears ends, she offers him a smile and a small, tender kiss before framing his face with her hands.
"Home?"
Aegon thinks of the house that he grew up in. The wallpaper covered by his sister's paintings, the little sweets cupboard hidden in his mother's office, the little windowless room where he practiced with his guitar…
But that house was empty now. No love, no life…but he knew where he could find it.
The apartment was small. With her swords, his guitar and several boxes of crap each, they knew things were going to be a little messy.
But weeks later, as they lay in bed with Arya's head nuzzled into his neck, Aegon finally responded.
"Home."