With each step that Daemon Targaryen took toward Rhaenyra Targaryen, where she stood at the end of the Painted Table, he felt the weight he carried on his shoulders. He knew that the news he carried would shatter his wife, who so recently lost Visenya and her father, in such quick succession.
His stride took him through the chamber in mere moments, but they felt like minutes.
As much as he longed for war and hated Rhaenyra's reluctance to retaliate, he knew that this news would drive her beyond the point of war. It would be much more than a conflict over a throne. It would be a conflict over an act of kinslaying. An act that was made all the worse by the fact that Lucerys would have stood no chance against the Queen of Dragons.
The voices of those speaking about various plans faded into the background as he reached Rhaenyra's side. She turned to face him, only briefly observing his features, before she faced him fully. She immediately picked up on the fact that something was wrong, and Daemon wished more than anything that he could tell her a different piece of news.
He reached and took her hand in his, gently guiding her away from the Painted Table to face the fire. "A raven has come from Storm's End," Daemon whispered softly. "Lucerys is dead."
Rhaenyra looked at him, tears already beginning to fall. "How?"
"Murdered by Aemond and Vhagar."
That was all that needed to be said. Rhaenyra looked into the fire for a long moment, hands clenched into tight fists and shaking with rage and loss.
Daemon watched as she took a deep breath and turned to face those that occupied the room.
"Leave us," Daemon ordered, immediately sensing the need for privacy.
As the occupants of the room walked out, some sending curious glances toward Rhaenyra's furious and agonized features, Daemon took a single step toward her. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder as she continued to stare forward, not speaking.
Instead of speaking, he took another step forward and reached out, fingers gently brushing along her neck.
Rhaenyra's fury was palpable as it rolled off her, and Daemon knew he could do nothing to ease it.
She turned, then, stepping into his arms. He pulled her closer to him, feeling her nose against the nape of his neck.
Slowly, she stepped out of his embrace and shook herself before looking at him. "You were right."
"I was," he acknowledged. "But that means little now."
"If I had but listened to you to begin with, Lucerys would still be here."
"You cannot think like that. The past is in the past. What matters now is how you respond."
There was a brief pause before Rhaenyra spoke.
"An eye for an eye," Rhaenyra finally spoke, voice somehow managing to be soft and poised, broken and furious at the same time. "A son for a son. Lucerys shall be avenged."
NOTE: This was written a while ago and published on AO3. I am merely importing all of my work over there to this site.