Lillian is standing outside the Castle, finally safe from the destruction. However, the fiendfyre hasn't cease at all. It continues to devour the castle's structure and turning everything to ash.
Unfortunately, she is not the only one who witnesses the devastation. Both courtiers and commoners alike have gathered outside the castle to watch the raging inferno. Some of the nobles have even started whispering and glancing in Lillian's direction after the King, his guards and her, emerged from the burning Castle.
She hopes that they aren't blaming her for this great tragedy. Although as Lillian listens carefully to their conversations, she realizes that the people are talking more about what she did to save them than anything else.
"That's her! The one who blew a hole through the wall and allowed us to escape from the fire." One of them is saying to the others.
"But how was she able to do it?" another person asks.
"I saw her used that object of hers in her hand," comes a noble woman's response.
"I saw her used that too. She used it to save the King and his guards from being crushed by falling debris," comments another man.
"But aren't there two of them who appeared in the throne room?" inquires a man with a worried voice. "One was trying to kill us all. I believe it was the one with black hair and wearing a black dress. Do you know where she went to?"
"I notice her disappear out of thin air," says a man with a green doublet and dark brown trousers.
"Yes, she did disappear all of a sudden," agrees a woman in a gold and red dress.
Bellatrix, Lillian thinks, tensing after hearing the crowd's words. The bitch has disappeared before I could kill her. I wonder where she went.
She begins to gnaw her lower lip in concern, thinking about what the other witch is doing at this very moment.
"Will the fire ever stop?" says a voice from her left and Lillian turns her attention to the silver-haired King who stands beside her.
"The fire will die out, but I'm not certain of how long it will take," She responds, assessing the King's reaction.
The King looks devastated at her words.
"What am I to do now that I don't have a castle in my own Capital?" the King says almost to himself, his mournful gaze locked on his burning red castle. "And now my brother is dead, and mayhap even my sisters have perish in the fire..."
Lillian simply remains silent at the King's concerned words. She feels immense sorrow for this monarch, whom she just saved, and she doesn't know what else to do or say to show her empathy.
She begins to open her mouth and say something, when a voice interrupts her first.
"Your grace," someone says from behind them.
Both Lillian and King Aegon turn around to see one member of the Kingsguards standing there and wearing a solemn expression.
That expression can only mean one thing.
"Your grace," the guard repeats, "We have found Lady Rhaenys."
Lillian glances at the King and notices that he looks like he is dreading what the guard has to say next.
"But she's badly burnt, your grace." The guard continues hurriedly, "And she sorely needs medical attention immediately."
"Then, why haven't you sent her aid? Where is the Archmaester?" demands King Aegon.
"Dead," comes the Kingsguard's honest answer.
There is a short pause where she observes how the King stills at this ramification.
"If the Archmaester is dead, then find someone else who can heal my sister," orders the King harshly.
"Our people are searching for available healers as we speak, your grace." The white knight informs the King.
"Well, that is good then," The King states, suddenly adapting a relieved tone. "May I ask where my sister is now, Ser Robin?"
"I will show you the way, your grace. If you will allow me." The knight replies, bowing deeply.
"Then, lead the way," comes the King's direct order.
"This way, your grace." The knight says and begins to walk away.
The King momentarily turns towards Lillian with an expectant expression on his face.
"You should come with me," states the King to her and Lillian nods her head in agreement.
Afterward, the two of them follow the Kingsguards to what appears to be a tavern located nearby. A tavern turned into a hospital for the nobles who were injured during Lillian's altercation with Bellatrix.
The moment she enters the place she immediately notices the people with injuries. Meanwhile, she could hear them groaning and moaning in pain from their severe wounds. A wave of pity instantly hits Lillian as she moves through the mass of injured people.
At their sudden entrance, the noise in the tavern decreases until it becomes a hush murmur of voices. The people starts bowing as the King and her pass by, despite the people's injured state.
"Your grace," they say to the King while they gaze at Lillian in equals parts fear and curiosity.
"The people who found the Lady brought her here," the Knight informs them as he leads them upstairs to what Lillian assumes to be the room where the King's sister is.
"They said that the Lady was unresponsive when they found her, but she is still breathing." Ser Robin says nervously to the King when he opens the door to the room.
At once, the King strides into the room, but pauses mid-step when he finally sees the state of his sweet sister.
"Oh, Rhaenys…" the King chokes out and staggers the remaining steps towards his sister.
Lillian steps into the room and stops herself from gasping loudly in time when she catches a glimpse of the woman lying in the bed.
The woman – Lady Rhaenys - is badly burnt to the point that all her skin is peeled off and red, her mouth and eyes are singed shot, and there is no longer hair on her head. If the fiendfyre burnt the woman, she should have been dead for fiendfyre consumes everything it touches.
It must be the black dragon which had burn the woman. The dragon had been so much in pain that it had belt out a river of flames during the chaos, and this was the result.
She takes a step closer to the King, who is kneeling down next to the bed and quietly speaking to his sister.
"Rhaenys, it's me. It's Aegon." The King says in a voice froth with emotion, "I am sorry for not being there to save you, dear sister. Please forgive me."
The woman in the bed does not stir at the King's words and Lillian suddenly knows that the woman wouldn't last long before the day is done.
Lillian wishes that she knows some kind of magic to heal the woman, or even knowing how to make some healing salve to help with the woman's burn, but she knows that she is useless in this situation.
She is only a sixteen-year old girl who is still on her fifth year at Hogwarts. She doesn't have knowledge on advance spells and potion-making to help the woman. None at all.
Lillian Potter is completely and utterly useless.
The King slowly quietens when his sister remains unresponsive and Lillian is torn between staying still or comforting the King.
Finally, she decides to show empathy to him.
"Your grace," she says softly. She tentatively places a hand on the King's shoulder.
The King looks up and Lillian is not surprise to see the teary look in the monarch's face.
"I'm sorry," is the only thing Lillian can say at the moment without being too inappropriate.
"You," the King mutters and slowly rose up to his towering height. His dark violet eyes never leaving hers.
Lillian lets go of the King's shoulder and steps back from him.
"You can save her," The King states. He gazes at her with eyes full of hope. "You can save her like you saved me. With your magic."
"I'm sorry, but I can't." Lillian tells him regretfully, "I don't know any spell to heal your sister."
"No, that can't be true." King Aegon shakes his head. "You are very powerful. You must know something to heal my sister."
"No, I don't know any spell to heal a burned wound," She informs him sadly. "I'm sorry, you grace."
Without warning, the King grabs a hold of Lillian's shoulders and she nearly gasp out loud at the suddenness of it.
"Please…" the King pleads as he stares into her eyes with a desperate look on his face. "Please, save her."
Lillian stares at him for a moment before she finally gives in to his request.
"I will try…" she whispers to him, "But I can't promise that I will be able to heal her."
"I understand," is King Aegon's response, giving her a small smile.
The King lets go of her at last and Lillian feels anxious at what she is about to do.
"Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts first, your grace," Lillian tells him.
"Of course," she hears the King says but Lillian's mind is already racing as she tries to recall the list of spells that she encounters in her readings before.
She is certain that she has a memory of something about healing the skin. She recalls Hermione telling her about it one day while they were writing their homeworks.
It was only a brief memory but it is important that she recalls it. If only she has a pensieve available to her at the moment so that she can thoroughly dissect the memory for the healing spell it contains.
"Med – med –" She mutters to herself, trying to recall the spell. It is at the tip of her tongue. "Mede - Medica..."
"What are you muttering about?" she hears the King asks but Lillian is already close to figuring about the spell that she decides to ignore the man's question. She can't afford the distraction.
"Medica – Medeo…Medeor!" She exclaims in triumph. "It's Medeor Cutis!"
"What's that?" The King inquires curiously.
"The spell to heal the skin!" Lillian informs him excitedly.
"Well, will it work?" comes the King's query.
"I hope so," is Lillian's words, suddenly sounding uncertain. "All I need is to press my wand on the affected area, clear my head and focuses my intent to heal, and once I mutter the spell, the skin will immediately patch itself up."
"Shall we try it then?" The King asks.
Lillian nods her head as she steps closer to the woman's bed. She takes her wand from her pocket and gently presses it at the woman's left arm first.
Pausing for a moment to gather herself, she then tightens her hold on her wand.
"Medeor Cutis," She whispers, focusing her intent to heal the burn on the woman's arm.
After uttering the spell, she waits for something to occur on the burn skin, but nothing happens and Lillian feels some emotion wells up inside her at the realization that she is probably not doing this right.
"Medeor Cutis," she repeats. This time she visualizes the healing process of the skin.
Yet once more, nothing happens.
"Why isn't it working?" the King asks as he watches Lillian tries the spell for the third time.
"Medeor Cutis!" She says, enunciating the words clearly and slowly while she focuses her intent to heal the woman's arm at the forefront of her mind.
Still, the woman's arm remains an angry red. Perhaps the reason the woman's skin hasn't healed at all is probably because of how deep and intensive the burn is. It possibly requires more advance spell than what Lillian currently cast on her.
Even as Lillian tries again and again to cast the spell, the woman remains unhealed, until Lillian finally turns to the King with a somber expression on her face.
"I'm –" she begins to say but the King interrupts her.
"Stop," He says in a heartbroken voice. His eyes brimming with unshed tears as he met her gaze. "It's alright. I understand. You don't need to apologize for trying."
Lillian feels utterly helpless as she then watches when the silver-haired King breaks down in front of her. Silent tears fell down from the King's violet eyes while he gazes down at his sister.
Deciding not to stand by and watch the man mourn silently, Lillian gathers her courage and places a hand on the King's back.
He glances at her, appearing surprise at her action.
Lillian's face flushes scarlet but remains silent while she comforts him in her own way.
"Thank you," the King suddenly says to her.
"For what?" Lillian asks, absently rubbing circles on his back.
"For saving my life and my kingsguards," He says to her, "And also for trying to save my sister."
"You are welcome," comes Lillian's automatic response, staring into those dark violet eyes.
There is a moment of silence as the two regard each other.
"Perhaps a Maester can heal her," the King remarks after a while. She watches him wipe the tears from his face.
"Who?" Lillian wonders out loud.
"A Maester. A knights of the mind. A Maester who is taught healing and other studies from the Citadel." King Aegon explains.
"I see," is her only reply. "Perhaps you are right. A Maester probably has more success to heal her than I."
"You did what you can," The King says after hearing her comment. He then leans closer to her side, perhaps to draw comfort from her as she rubs soothing circles on his back.
The two doesn't say anything afterward, but remain standing there in a comfortable but somber silence.