He remembered the day that the lions entered the dragon's lair. It was the day that the world went dark, taking with it his right eye, and his female counterpart. Balerion remembered Rhaenys fondly, they had often spent long hours in the sun playing, cuddling, and listening to Rhaenys' mother, Elia read.
As he ran through the castle his worlds ran parallel, out of his left eye he could see tapestries, gowned snakes and the wolf girl chasing after him, his left eye was boring. It was the right that held his full attention, for as Balerion scurried down the stairs of the White Sword Tower he could see Ser Lewyn carrying Rhaenys upon his shoulders, both of them laughing and shouting. Both of them were gone now, and Balerion could find only echoes of them.
If his girl of violet had lived, she would be eighteen by now, a woman grown. She hadn't though, all that was left were bursts of anger and Balerion. He mourned for the woman she would have become, and the girl she had been, but mostly he anguished over what she had become, children shouldn't die true deaths. Rhaenys had, and now she would live out her second life until he died.
His vision flashed red, she was back again from wherever it was she went, and she was angry. As Balerion faded into the corners of his mind, he mourned for the realm, and those who lived and died within.