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Elissa Farman 🧭

Lady capitain of Sun Chaser and lovers of Rhaena💙🩵

Understanding

Part 2:  Untethered  

A/n the reader in this is not the same reader as the one from my aemond fic, they just have a similar background for plot (and bc i love rhaenyra's child x alicent's child trope, it's so montagues and capulets)

Summary: After speaking to his mother and small council, Aegon begins to doubt the unspoken understanding between himself and Rhaenyra's intended heir, who agreed to be taken by the greens in exchange for her brother's life.

Warnings: there are some plot deviations (mainly the implication that aegon and helaena are not married), the whole ethical 'dating someone you're technically holding hostage' dilemma, and canon compliant incest

----

The groan of the floorboards takes its time floating through your apartments, the sound so soft you don't even stir.

Aegon sighs. You've been a ridiculously heavy sleeper since childhood. He can still recall the way you'd leave these very apartments for breakfast, hair unbrushed and eyes drowsy. He dismisses the thought as he takes another step forward. You're no longer a princess with the luxury of leisure. You're staying in what you consider 'enemy territory'. One would think you'd have the decency to struggle to find sleep. If nothing else, the decency to miss him.

He swallows. Thoughts of the corner of your mouth tugging itself into a smile you didn't mean to share, of your gentle whispers felt more than heard in the darkness, of the warmth of your fingertips dragging against his skin have plagued him since he left you this morning. Aegon has not been able to release you from his mind, and here you are, perfectly content without him in a room you are only allowed access to because of his favor.

If you continue to indulge her, she'll never feel like a prisoner. The echo of his mother's words feel sharper than they should, a needle piercing his chest. Aegon had originally dismissed the sentiment. Despite the complicated nature of your presence here, the two of you have found a sort of rhythm. An inconvenient understanding.

So what if he offers you privileges that none of his half-sister's children should be allotted? You dismiss your instincts in favor of being there for him in a way no one else is. You talk; and you listen; and you lay next to him in the dark, your fingers tracing patterns against his arm until you fall asleep.

Aegon had never felt affronted by the casualness of your unspoken arrangement until his mother brought him back to reality. As long as you allow her to exist in this in between without asking for anything in return, she will remain loyal to her mother. A mother who is desperate enough to marry her off to secure alliances.

The floor creeks as he takes another step forward, this time the sound less dismissible. You shift, body twisting as you move from your stomach onto your side.

A pinprick of something akin to guilt dulls the beginning of his spiral. You mumble a sound that feels like a question. Aegon studies your movements as you wipe at your eyes. You lift your head slightly, eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Aegon?" Your features seem to ease, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips as you lift your head. "I didn't think you had time for me tonight."

There's a gentleness to your voice that leaves his stomach in knots. He's lapped at your affection like a wounded dog finally stumbling onto water. Has it all been a ploy?

If his silence affects your disposition, you give no indication of it. Instead, you beam at him before allowing yourself to slump onto your back. You pull at the blankets in an attempt to create space for him.

Aegon keeps his back to you as he sits. He takes his time laying down, one of his arms resting in the space between the two of you. Still half asleep, you reach for him. The back of your palm brushes against his wrist. You turn your hand over, fingers beginning their familiar path up his arm.

His eyes remain open, his attention set on the ceiling. You've yet to finish outlining his forearm before Aegon's turning his arm. The shift is subtle, more of an implication than an actual attempt at dismissing you. The subtlety of the movement is not enough to prevent your reaction. Despite his jokes and teasing comments, Aegon knows better than to do anything that offers you an opportunity to overthink about your your time alone together. There's a moment of stillness, and then your hand leaves him.

You turn onto your side, the weight of your stare making it nearly impossible for Aegon to remain still. "Are you--are you alright?" The question is cautious, tinged by an uncertainty that makes you sound smaller than you ever have before.

Have you ever experienced any type of rejection before? You're Rhaenyra's first born, her intended heir. The beloved princess, doted on by your mother, cared for by your supposed father, spoiled by your grandsire. His father's illness was never enough to keep him from you, the only child he had the strength to get out of bed for. You don't know what it's like to long for anything.

"We had an arrangement--an agreement." Aegon pushes himself away from you as he sits. You prop your head up, staring at him. Aegon cannot bring himself to look into your eyes. "That I'd be honest with you, and you'd be honest with me."

You sit up. "What?" You bend your knees, the sheets slipping down your legs. Aegon presses his nails into the skin of his palm. "I've--I've been honest. I've never lied to you."

The defense comes out so quick and innocent it nearly strips the accusation of any weight. It's a response that'd better suit a child caught stealing extra sweets or rough housing with a younger sibling.

He finally turns his head. The room's lack of light is not enough to diminish your wide eyes. You're radiating such innocence Aegon could choke on it. He's reminded of why he kept you at arm's length throughout your childhood. The good, perfect daughter. The future heir.

"You said your mother had no intentions of marrying you off. That you were not betrothed--"

"I'm not."

Aegon lets out a breath. "Then why did I have to spend most of my evening listening to my small council discuss your mother's latest potential alliances and addressing rumors about your mother's plan to marry you to some lord as a way of securing their support?"

You're quiet for a moment, hands clasped tightly around your knees. "I cannot help rumors." Some odd feeling gnaws at Aegon's stomach. "And you know that I haven't been home in some time. I can't control my mother anymore than you can control yours."

What a politically appropriate answer. He scoffs. "I find it difficult to believe that your mother would ever use you as a bargaining chip without--at the very least--mentioning it to you first."

If there's one thing that doesn't come naturally to you, it's deception. You tilt your chin downwards, your attention falling onto anything that isn't him.

Aegon reaches for your hand. You let him untangle your fingers. He pulls your hand forward, his thumb dragging against your knuckles. His hold on you tightens as he brings the back of your palm to his lips. A part of him is repulsed by how much he means the gesture.

He doesn't let go of you as he brings his hand back to the mattress. Aegon allows himself a moment to embrace the stillness, and then he's shifting forward. His available hand finds your shoulder. His weight presses against you, forcing you back until you're pinned against the headboard.

He holds his breath, waiting for some kind of protest, some insult or attempt to push him away. All you do is watch him, the slightest crease between your eyebrows. "Aegon."

"Tell me." Aegon's fingers press into your shoulder. "Tell me it isn't true and I will believe you. I want to believe you."

Your lips part, but you do not speak. An uncomfortable heat burns its way up his neck. "I--I did not lie." You hold his gaze. "I am not betrothed, but before I was brought here, my mother did mention that she was beginning to consider it."

All of the time he's spent indulging in your presence, living out some ridiculous fantasy of having your attention, believing everything you've told him--he's been nothing more than a fool.

"I wanted to mention it when you asked, but I was..." Your voice wavers. "Honestly, I was afraid."

His gaze falls downwards, his eyes unintentionally landing on your lips. "Because you needed me."

"No." You shake your head slightly, the motion rigid. "Our understanding," you pause, lips briefly pressing together, "Our friendship, was so new and uncertain--and I was afraid of ruining it, of being alone here, of--of the potential engagement. All of it." Your eyes are shinier than they were a moment ago. "I wanted to pretend it didn't exist."

This is the first time you've ever given any indication of not naturally taking to your responsibilities. You agreed to be taken hostage in exchange for your brother's life with little complaint or theatrical martyrism, but the thought of marrying a stranger to aid your mother's war effort shakes you to your core.

Sympathy and petulant satisfaction blend together uneasily, a continuation in the cycle of wanting you while also desiring to take everything from you.

His thumb drags down your shoulder, the warmth of your skin nearly dizzying. "Would you do it if she asked?"

You swallow. "It wouldn't matter. I'm here." He continues to trace a pattern against your shoulder. You squeeze his hand. "You can't have a wedding without the bride."

You're holding onto him with an intensity that's easing. "And if you weren't?"

As silence falls over the two of you, Aegon studies your expression. You're giving him very little to work with. "I wouldn't have a choice." Anything you've had with him has been out of the sake of convenience. It doesn't matter to you. "Aegon, you--you understand that." His lips part, but he has no response worth giving. "You have to understand that."

Aegon's hold on your hand tightens, fingers digging into into the skin of your palm. "Why?" The desperation in the question turns his stomach. He shifts his weight away from you, his hand trailing down your arm. "Do you care for me?"

Your straighten, back pulling away from the headboard. Aegon cannot will himself to read your features. "Do I care for you?" There's a barely there lilt to your voice that only makes it impossible for him to just sit there.

He forces himself to focus on the crumpled sheets in front of him. Something warm finds its way to his cheek--your hand. Your thumb drags itself across the side of his face. Aegon allows his eyes to fall shut. Gently, you guide his head forward.

"Aegon." He opens his eyes. "How many times have I been alone with you, have I--have I slept in the same bed as you?" You stumble, eyes briefly leaving his. Aegon can't help his slight smile. While you've always known about the impropriety of sleeping next to him, he doubts you know why it's viewed that way. You let out a breath in an attempt to recover. "I have risked my reputation, risked betraying my own mother--and you have to ask."

Aegon's vision blurs. He presses his lips together, forcing himself to not look away. "Of course I care for you."

He places a hand over the one you placed on his cheek. There's a lot of responses that Aegon should offer you, some declaration, some assurance of his fondness for you, but he's never been particularly talented at expressing the sentimental.

His fingers bend around your own, carefully pulling your hand away from his cheek. He sets your hand down on the mattress gently. You blink at him curiously, but before you can overthink the action, Aegon's shifting forward.

He presses his lips against yours. You're rigid, body still until he pulls your bottom lip between both of his. Aegon moves closer, one hand finding the back of your head. You lean forward, arms wrapping around his neck. You move your weight onto your knees, Aegon's available hand coming to your waist to keep you stable.

Aegon's head tilts back, creating space that you're more than ready to fill. His teeth tug at your bottom lip. You hands slide away from his neck, down his shoulders, settling on his chest. Aegon's hand moves away from your hip, coming to rest on your thigh.

The need for air brings him back to reality. Aegon breaks the kiss slowly, pulling away without letting you go. For a moment, all he can do is grin at you as you both catch your breath. "If I had known you had it in you, Princess..."

The use of your title seems to make you realize that you're still practically on his lap. You move back, making a point of sitting up straight. You roll your eyes, but between your ragged breaths and inability to lift your gaze, the look falls flat.

You keep your legs between the two of you, a barrier that bends at your knees. Aegon's smile broadens. He's not sure he's ever seen you so unsure of yourself. "I--that wasn't..."

"You can relax." You finally look up again, eyebrows drawn together in what he assumes is a display of skepticism. "I won't tell anyone." His hand find your lower leg, fingers tracing a delicate pattern against your skin. "And if anyone accuses you of anything, I'll have their tongue."

He sets his hand against your knee, his touch growing in security. You stare at your leg incredulously. "Aegon."

"What?" His thumb trails across your skin. "Would you prefer their head?"

You tilt your head, expression unamused. Aegon smiles, leaning forward to place a quick kiss against your knee before moving towards his original spot. You turn your head, watching him carefully.

Aegon lets out a sigh as he sinks into a pillow. "I'm tired."

You lay down next to him. "I didn't realize I wore you out."

The grin in your voice is audible. Aegon uses his forearm for support as he lifts himself to lean over you. "Do not start something you can't finish."

The corner of your mouth pulls itself upwards, the look similar but not quite the same as the accidental smiles Aegon has grown accustomed to. He smiles as he lies down, his head resting against your upper stomach.

You're quick to accept the proximity, your hand moving to smooth through his hair. Aegon's arm settles against your waist. This newfound closeness is nearly overwhelming in the relief it offers him. The feeling grabs at him, forcing out words he is not ready to say, "We could always get married." He tries to swallow, but the dryness of his mouth makes it impossible. "Then your mother wouldn't be able to marry you off to anyone."

Your fingers stall against his scalp. "Aegon--"

"I'd be a good husband to you."

At your silence, his fingers press into your side as if you might slip away if given the chance. After a beat, your nails begin to brush through his hair again. "You are thinking of the war, of your claim, of--of your small cou--"

"I am thinking of you."

You let out a sigh Aegon feels more than hears. "We need to be realistic. Would my mother's retaliation not concern you?"

He forces himself to focus on your tangibility. "The only thing concerning me is figuring out how to keep you here as long as possible." He drags his knuckles against your hip. "You once told me that you'd never get married, and that instead you'd spend your life riding dragons and eating cake."

You let out a soft laugh. "I can't believe you remember that."

"You sounded very serious." Aegon releases your side in favor of finding your hand. His fingers trace patterns against your palm. "We could get married and spend our days riding dragons and eating cake."

Your drag your hand away from his head, palm settling against his back. You begin to smooth circles against the fabric of his shirt. "Now you be serious."

Aegon intertwines your fingers, squeezing your palm to his. "I know better than to jest about cake."

You're so quiet he'd assume you fell asleep if it wasn't for the patterns still being traced against his spine. "Can we just...can we give it some time?"

He's not sure what you expect to get from time. The realm will still be divided, his half-sister will only grow more desperate and willing to marry you off for support, and his mother will continue to question why he's keeping you in this limbo. But the request is far from a rejection.

You've always been practical, the kind of person to think through prospects instead of trusting your instinct. Aegon is your best option, the closest thing you have to a lifeline. The way you feel about him has already encouraged you to cross lines you would have never considered approaching. Perhaps time and his attention will be what it takes to put it all into perspective for you.

Aegon lifts your hand to his mouth, his lips brushing against your knuckles. "We can give it all the time you need, Princess."

You mumble something he can't quite make out. Before Aegon can ask about it, your hand stills against him. Without looking up, he knows that you've fallen asleep.

----

A/n i had to throw in a little alicent and rhaenyra parallel <3 i could see myself writing a part 2 to this so if you like that idea lmk!! or if u want more hotd in general :)

Untethered

part 2 of Understanding 

Summary: As you and Aegon grow closer, thoughts of the future leave you more uneasy than ever. The questions of war and marriage are foes you cannot escape, especially when influenced by the other greens.

Warnings: plot deviations (mainly the implication that helaena isn't married to aegon and her twins being someone else's ik it'd make canonical sesne for aegon to be able to have 2 wives, especially as king, but this is just a way to make the greens more desperate for aegon to get married and produce an heir), ethics?, and canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra’s daughter)

----

There is nothing crueler than a lack of conviction. Your mother and family are preparing for a war that seems to grow more inevitable by the day, Aegon spends his days planning retaliations and strategizing ways to strengthen his feeble claim to the throne, and you are left at a standstill.

The worry and guilt meld together in your veins, the unease pulling you from reality. It doesn't matter that you're currently sitting in the library, away from the Hightowers--away from Aegon. Your current distance cannot undue what has already been done.

You did not mean to care for Aegon, you did not want to care for Aegon. How are you supposed to go home and look your mother in the eye while knowing that you welcomed her usurper into your childhood apartments like an old friend? That you allowed him to sleep in your bed? That you--that you allowed him to kiss you?

You blink, eyes focusing on the pages in front of you. Your mother, your siblings, Daemon, Rhaena Baela--you have to assume that they're all fine. You cannot allow a moment's curiosity to send you down a spiral.

And Aegon--there is no point in worrying about Aegon. As of now, the Red Keep is his. He's safe here, and with the realm so divided, no one is going to suggest sending him anywhere.

"I should have known you'd be here." You blink, head turning towards the stacks. Aegon's standing between rows of books, only a few steps away from the table you've claimed as your own. "I checked your apartments first, foolish of me."

He's watching you, a soft smile playing at his lips. You latch onto that. "I haven't been here that long."

Aegon takes a step forward, his attention shifting away from you and towards the few books stacked neatly by your side. "No...it seems I'm only about 3 books late."

His grin becomes a more certain thing as he moves towards your table. He pulls out the chair next to yours. Instead of sitting right away, Aegon leans forward, his lips pressing against yours.

The kiss is as warm as it is jarring. Knowing that you should stop this is not enough to rid you of the desire to melt into his touch. He pulls back before you can truly react. "Aegon."

He grins, keeping his body angled towards you as he sits. "We're the only ones in here."

Despite his reassurance, your eyes still drift towards the stacks blocking off your seats from the rest of the library. Maybe your tendency to choose secluded seating areas as a way of avoiding as many skeptical glances as possible is paying off. You look at Aegon again, nodding your head slowly.

His smile slowly falls. "Are you alright?"

You can't imagine that he wants to hear about the way you worry about your family and the guilt you feel for wanting to be around him. If anything, telling him about what's concerning you may alienate him. There's nothing trustworthy about an untethered heart.

You nod again, this time the motion more direct. "Yes." You sit up a little straighter in an attempt to feel more connected to what's in front of you. "I'm just a little tired."

His eyebrows pinch together briefly. The look is so pensive you have to work at not squirming. After a beat, he softens. He leans towards you, voice dropping to just above a whisper as he asks, "Did something keep you from your sleep last night, Princess?"

The suggestive lilt to Aegon's voice leaves your skin warmer than it was moment ago. His smugness is only encouraged by your silence. "Someone, actually."

"Really?" He grins, an elbow coming onto the table to prop up his chin. "Do tell."

You hum once, pretending to need to think through your response. "There's not much to tell." Your eyebrows draw together as you mime contemplating even further. "He was quite tiresome. He was so talkative it made it difficult for me, of all people, to find sleep."

Aegon's glare makes it difficult for you to not laugh. "Very funny." Before you can facetiously thank him for recognizing your sense of humor, Aegon continues, "I'm curious, is that why you crawled onto my lap last night? To shut me up?"

The blood in your veins turns to ice. An uneasy heat burns its way through your chest and up your neck. Despite being aware of your solitude, your eyes instinctually dart towards the stacks behind Aegon. "I did--I was not on your lap."

He relaxes in his seat, raising his eyebrows as he presses his lips together in a way that does little to disguise his smirk. "That's not the way I recall it."

In an attempt to ignore the lingering warmth still burning your skin, you roll your eyes. Despite his attempts at flustering you, you're still glad for his company.

"If it is sleep you desire," Aegon's arm moves towards the table, a book you hadn't noticed in his grasp, "Perhaps this can help." You glance between him and the book curiously. "It's a collection of some of the most notable accounts of dragons and what they accomplished with their riders." He pauses, lips briefly pressing together. "I'm sure you're familiar with some of the stories, but this is an updated volume."

He--Aegon--After missing your family for so long, such a personal and genuine gesture nearly makes your eyes sting. As a child, when you spent the most time around Aegon, all you ever wanted to do was recount stories of the most fearsome dragons. As you grew, the interest never left you, you just learned to talk about it less.

There's something so comforting about being understood like this. "You brought me a book on dragon history?"

He's staring at his hands. "In the first few pages, there's an illustration of a dragon that looks a lot like Eveningstar."

You beam, opening the book. "I love it."

The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards. "Yeah?" His hands come to rest on the table's hardwood surface. Aegon shifts forward, his knee brushing against yours. "Read to me?"

You nod, turning the pages until you find the start of the first chapter. "Balerion the Black Dread."

The story is one you know well. Balerion's time with Daenys the Dreamer, Balerion being one of five dragons to escape Dragonstone, Balerion's conquests with Aegon's namesake.

As you read, Aegon moves closer. His breath is a warm, barely there thing against the side of your neck. You know better than to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, concentrating on the words in front of you.

Sensing your determination to ignore him, Aegon lifts a hand away from the table. You tense, but continue to read. He finds a strand of loose strand of hair that's fallen past your shoulder. He pulls the strand back, fingers lingering against your collarbone.

Your own lungs betray you, your breath briefly catching itself in your throat. "Aegon."

"What?" He doesn't move away, he doesn't even bother to stop smoothing back your hair. "You're the most honorable princess in the realm, surely you're not this easily distracted."

Your face warms. The years you've dedicated to being the ideal princess, the heir's perfect daughter in hopes of preventing being a source of controversy in debates of your mother's claim cannot be taken away so easily. You can't compromise who you are now, not over something you barely understand. "I'm not distracted." The defense rings weak in your ears.

"Perfect," he hums, hand settling against your shoulder, "Then we shouldn't have an issue."

Aegon leans forward, his lips brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. Your stomach knots in a way that you do not comprehend. Confusion and hesitant curiosity are not enough to keep you from what you know. You stiffen, pulling back slightly. Your movements aren't a true rejection, but they're enough to indicate your surprise.

He's grinning. "We're still alone."

His easygoingness is infectious. You only manage to hold onto your frown for a few seconds before your smile is matching his own. "You're incorrigible." The words lack any malice.

Maybe in another life, another world in which your mother's status as heir could be easily accepted, things could have been different. A new wave of guilt crashes into you, this one less certain than the others. You're a traitor to your mother for caring about him, and a traitor to Aegon for wishing that you cared less.

"Keep trying, I'm sure you'll crack me eventually."

Your smile broadens. His presence is such a welcomed warmth, you're briefly overwhelmed by how happy you are that he's here, safe and in your presence. The feeling comes close to dislodging the worry from your chest. You lean into that. "I'm glad you're here."

Aegon's eyebrows draw together, his eyes searching yours. You're not sure what he's looking for in your expression, but he seems to find it because after a beat he's smiling again. "I should visit you during the day more often."

Your thumb slowly leafs through the edge of the book's pages. "No--I mean--yes, I'm glad you're here with me, but I'm also glad you're here, as in somewhere safe." You pause, the words attempting to stick to the back of your throat. "Where I know nothing bad is going to happen to you."

His silence digs at you. An expression of such concern, a reminder of your reality is a misstep you're not sure you can recover from. The nail of your thumb presses itself between the pages in front of you. "You worry about me?"

You blink. "Sometimes." Letting out a careful breath, you turn your head enough to look at him. "When I let myself think about life beyond King's Landing."

Aegon's expression is somber in a way that doesn't suit him. His hand reaches for yours. "Anyone would be a fool to attack us with Vhagar guarding the city." You let him squeeze your palm to his. "And as far as life beyond King's Landing, I have no intention to leave anytime soon. Not with everything worth my attention already within reach."

The comment is such a blatant attempt at flattery, you should be annoyed. Instead, you feel the corner of your mouth pull itself into a smile. "Worthy of your attention? I'm honored."

He eases at that, his thumb dragging itself across his knuckles. "What happened to being worried sick over me?"

You roll your eyes, but make no attempt to pull away. "You're exaggerating."

"I," he sighs, "Am mortally wounded."

You fight an instinctual grin, lips pressing together to keep your expression measured as you turn in your seat. Your eyes land on the stacks before you can look at Aegon. Some half thought out comment about his theatrics lodges itself in the back of your throat.

Standing where the shelves part, expression harsh in its blankness, is Alicent Hightower. You take your hand back as quickly as possible, spine straightening in an attempt to create as much distance as possible. Aegon's eyebrows pull together, but before he can ask, Alicent clears her throat.

He moves his arm back before angling himself forward. You force yourself to stare at book in front of you. How long has Alicent been standing there? Was she waiting to witness some kind of mistake or has she already seen one?

"Pardon me." She steps forward, her voice flat. "I did not mean to impose." Alicent glances at her son before allowing her stare to find you.

"There is no imposition." Aegon's voice is measured, his certainty in the casualness of the situation bleeding into each syllable. "I'm only here to show her a book."

Her eyebrows pinch together, "A book?"

The skepticism coating her words makes it nearly impossible to remain still. An uncomfortable warmth begins to crawl up your neck. "We were discussing it." The look she gives you is far from one that indicates any extent of belief. In all honesty, you can't even fault her for her suspicions. You clasp your hands beneath the table, keeping your expression as polite as possible as you hesitantly tack on her title, "Your Highness."

She watches you for another beat before turning her attention back to her eldest son. "Alright. Aegon, your brother is looking for you. Apparently, you were supposed to meet, but clearly, you lost track of time."

Aegon, still completely unbothered by his mother's surprise appearance, relaxes in his seat. "Meetings with Aemond are more rigorous than meetings with the entire Small Council, I apologize for not being eager to begin yet another conversation about Vhagar's uses."

Alicent's stare turns into something distinctly pointed and maternal. With that, Aegon stands. "I should not keep him waiting any longer." He rests a hand on the back of your chair. "Once you're finished here, maybe you should find Helaena. I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

While enjoying Aegon's company may make you feel like a viper turning against her own blood, you're certain your mother would never have a problem with you spending time with Helaena. As children, you would often run through the gardens with her, listening diligently whenever she'd tell you about any creature that caught her eye.

Presently, she's been a constant beacon of positivity. Before you grew closer to Aegon, she'd often comfort you whenever worry and loneliness lunged at your heart. Even when you couldn't understand the phrases she'd speak to you, you could always tell that they were meant to be optimistic, the words usually implying something about a kinder future.

You nod. "Alright, I will."

With that, Aegon straightens. He offers you a final glance before walking forward. You watch as he disappears between the shelves, leaving you alone with his mother.

Alicent's presence has never been a simple thing to you. Even as a child, whenever you became the object of your grandsire's easily fleeting attention, Alicent's appearances often made you feel the need to put on a performance of sorts, like each casual question and polite smile was an attempt to find some flaw in you.

You're sure she'll either leave or give you an excuse to disappear after some passive aggressive comment masked behind a proper dismissal. You wait as casually as you can manage, your hands clasped together tightly beneath the table.

She straightens slightly, her hands coming together in front of her. "My son seems to have taken an interest in you." The sentence, though spoken much too factually to be an accusation, leaves you on edge. "And he rarely takes an interest in much."

The nail of your thumb digs into your hand. "I'm not sure I'd say he--"

"I know my children, I know the way Aegon is." Though jarring, the interruption is welcome. You weren't sure were you were going with your defense. "And as of late, he has been...different." She takes a breath. "I understand your mother has raised you with certain ambitions, expectations." Your expression hardens at that. "But you've always been an intelligent young woman, I'm sure at least a part of you understands our duty to the realm."

The sentiment is a reflection of the same placating speech you've witnessed others deliver to your mother again and again. Contrasting iterations of the same general warning--the men of the realm will never bend their knee to a woman. Those that remind your mother of this always choose to forget that those same men they're so worried about had once bent their knee to swear obeisance to her.

You've promised yourself that you'd get through your time in the Red Keep by remaining as neutral as possible. Your position is precarious enough without you adding to the fire. But this is an argument you've heard so many times before. "My mother intends to create a new order."

Alicent sighs before falling silent. When she finally speaks again, her words shock you, "Perhaps she will." Your surprise renders you incapable of responding. "Or perhaps Aegon's claim to the throne will be upheld. In all honesty, I do not know."

She takes a small step forward. Something behind her expression shifts, the stoic set of her features cracking enough to reveal something heavier. "But I do know how this will end for you. The men will fight, they will render their decision, and no matter who sits the Iron Throne, you will still have a royal womb."

Her eyes are wider, shinier than you've ever seen them. The expression makes her appear smaller. "No matter the order of things, a noble woman will still need to continue her family's line. A Targaryen woman, even more than most."

She blinks in an attempt to vanish whatever honesty had overtaken her. It doesn't work, the lingering somberness somehow making her appear younger, perhaps even similar to the version of her that had once been her mother's friend. The thought of her as a girl not much different than you, with dreams and friendships meant to last a lifetime built within the walls of the Red Keep, twists your stomach.

She had been around your age when she married your grandsire, hadn't she? You dismiss the thought, pressing your lips together. "Any match you are attempting to push me towards would only strengthen your family's claim to the throne."

"I won't insult you by pretending a union between you and Aegon wouldn't help unify dividing lines or that you have not already proven yourself a beneficial influence on him." Her voice feels flat.

Alicent's eyes find yours, but the longer you stare at her the less you see. "I am not speaking to you as a queen, or as a mother. I am speaking to you as a woman. There are fates much worse than wedding a man that cares for you."

She nods once, expression still unsettlingly vulnerable as she turns to leave. Alicent disappears behind the stacks, the even sound of her footsteps growing softer until you're completely alone again.

Once you're certain that she's beyond the library's threshold, you turn your attention back to the book in front of you. Alicent's words will mean nothing to you, you'll make sure of it.

----

Wide eyes stare up at you, their innocence adding a soft glow to violet irises. Jaehaerys blinks at you before stretching his arms out towards you.

The gesture is so simple, so familiar it's nearly dizzying. All of your brothers had been babes once, and now some of them are old enough to prepare to fight, to die. And the ones that are still small might grow up seeing you as a traitor and not the older sister that helped cradle them through fussy nights and cared for them.

"He wants you," Helaena says, her attention briefly shifting away from the little girl on her lap.

Her gentle prompting is enough to bring you back to the present. You nod, abandoning your own seat in favor of approaching the little prince. You bend down, carefully lifting Jaehaerys before settling him on your hip. He takes to you easily, smiling as his tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your dress's sleeve. The gesture is terribly heartwarming.

"He likes you," she hums, her voice soft as she smooths circles against Jaehaera's back. "That's a good thing. He's particular."

You cannot imagine him being difficult. "Oh, I don't know, he seems forgiving." You sway slightly, the repetitive movement something you vaguely remember your younger siblings liking. "It's been some time since I've seen my youngest brothers."

She presses her lips together in a sympathetic sort of smile. "The morning star takes its time reaching its place."

The phrase means very little to you, but the sentiment of it is clear enough. Something of patience, of things eventually falling into place. "It does."

Helaena smiles again, this time the look a little warmer.

You let your attention return to Jaehaerys. He's still content, one hand holding onto you and the other gripping a wooden toy. "Do you like it?" You're not sure what shocks you more, your words or how much you mean them. "Motherhood..." Your mind forces out the second part of your question without your permission, "Marriage?"

Her lips part, but before she can say anything, the doors behind her creak open. Your hold on Jaehaerys tightens as you turn your head.

The doors are still parted when your eyes lock. You look away from Aegon immediately, focus falling to the babe on your hip. He continues forward, greeting you both before stopping a few paces behind Helaena's seat.

His gaze finds you again, this time his eyes expressing a familiarity you cannot bring yourself to reciprocate. "You're with the twins." Aegon steps past his sister's chair, turning himself towards her. "Helaena, do you need the princess's assistance, or can I steal her from you?"

She straightens slightly, "You can have her. Alyce will be here soon to help put the children to bed."

Your eyebrows draw together skeptically. Why ask Helaena before asking you? "Steal me?" You smooth a hand against Jaehaerys's back. "For what?"

"Every day I hear complaints about Eveningstar."

Your eyes narrow. Of course Eveningstar is acting out. She is being kept farther from you than she has ever been, she has not gotten to fly for some time, and she misses her home. You've been told before that your dragon is complicated, some have even called her spoiled, but you will not tolerate true criticisms of her. "She is under stress and kept in a stable I am not allowed to visit all day and night, of course she's growing restless."

The corner of Aegon's mouth pulls itself upwards. "I know." You blink, unsure where he's going with this. "I also know that she prefers to fly beneath the moon."

You blink. The easy cadence, the grin struggling to not overtake his expression, the way he's watching you. All of it seems to imply something that you've never let yourself hope for. No matter how much favor Aegon has shown you, you've never been offered a chance to see Eveningstar let alone fly her.

"I--I'm not--" The thought of your girl being within reach is almost overwhelmingly wonderful.

You try to focus on the reality of the situation. Technically, you're hostage of war, it'd be impossible to justify letting you near your dragon. It's also late, meaning that being seen alone with Aegon is a danger in its own right. Still, the thought of getting to be with Eveningstar... "Really?"

Aegon gives into his smile, "I'll meet you in an hour."

----

a/n this got really long so i'm splitting it into a third part (and maybe more bc i have a whole expanded arch idea so if this turns into a series that was completely accidental 😭)

Taglist: @thesleepwalker @6ofdreamers @torchbearerkyle @hajimeiwaswife

Midway

a/n a small-ish fic of someone comforting aegon bc i feel bad for him 😭

Summary: You did not choose to be Aegon's wife, and yet you seem to be the only one choosing to be there for him during his recovery.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as uneasy friendship, vague descriptions of life threatening injuries, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

read part 2 here: A Matter of Timing

----

Hushed whispers, as stale and sterile as the fresh gauze being stretched and pulled taut against his skin. The rasp of his breathing scrapes at the air that manages to pull itself into your own lungs.

"It is..." Alicent stalls, her gaze never leaving her eldest son, "A lot, I know." Her eyes are wide, glossier than you've ever seen them. An odd sort of empathy presses itself against your chest, making a full breath feel like even more of a fantasy.

Your sympathies and courteously vague expressions of understanding and mutual hurt are things Alicent has no use for. She's tolerated you like an inherited dress that doesn't quite fit, only begrudgingly acknowledging you when surrounded by family.

These days, her barely there tolerance for you has grown even weaker, considering the reports your handmaid had delivered to you of Alicent's attempts to convince the council to lock you away after your mother's retaliation to Aegon's coronation. An imprisonment only prevented by Aegon's command.

She lets out a breath, her attention briefly dropping to the ground before settling on you. "But you are his wife."

A fact she's only come to accept because of your blood. As Rhaenyra's daughter, your marriage had been a compromise, a final attempt at merging a divided family before your grandsire's passing. If your mother had known how quickly Aegon's supporters would have pushed him towards the throne...

You nod your head slowly, dismissing thoughts of yourself. For the first time since your union, the context of your arrangement does not cloud all else. "Yes."

There had been no attempts made to gloss over the extent of Aegon's injuries. For once, the heart of the Red Keep prioritized reality over projecting strength and invulnerability. The maesters had warned you, had detailed the damages left behind by the flames and the fall. An attack strong enough to kill a dragon.

"I um...I tried to visit him earlier, when he first returned." The surprise of your own honesty is an afterthought, a barely there thing attempting to occupy the little space left in your mind. "They said he was not yet stable."

Alicent is silent, some distant quality hollowing her stare as she watches the maester. His movements are succinct, precise as he quietly instructs a maid to bring him a salve left on the table. How many times in these last few days has he gone through this process? How many more times will a maester need to dress Aegon's wounds and rebandage him?

"Stable seems relative." Alicent blinks, her attention returning to what's directly in front of her. She turns to face you. "I trust that you'll sit with him, keep him company after the maester is finished."

Aegon's thoughts on your company have shifted several times throughout the short time you've been married. He often goes through periods of indifference followed by fleeting displays of interest that feel eerily close to companionship. Not quite a friendship or a romance, but something warm and comfortable. Mutual glances shared over supper, peaceful moments in the hall, occasionally crawling into the other's beds at night like children that cannot find sleep on their own.

Some skeptical part of you wonders if Alicent's sudden interest in your wifely responsibilities has more to do with punishing you than caring for Aegon. You doubt she considers you some great source of comfort in her son's life. At least you don't mind the thought of staying here, away from prying eyes and whispers that your privileges within the Red Keep should be restricted until the realm is no longer so divided. "Of course."

She nods once. "There--there is much to be decided upon in Aegon's absence." Alicent lets out a rigid breath. Perhaps Alicent really does want to know that someone's with Aegon. "I should go."

"I will keep him company, your grace."

With that, Alicent spares Aegon a final glance before turning to leave. You remain near the entrance of Aegon's bedchambers, far enough away to not impact the maester and his work.

You watch the process openly. Aegon's burns and other injuries are meticulously cleaned, white cloth stained dark as it is dragged against his skin. Salves and balms are lathered onto his wounds, concoctions meant to promote healing and ward off infection. The final step of the process involves the freshly cleaned wound being rebandaged.

The maester works at an expert pace, treating Aegon's body in sections. Before you know it, he's stepping back to assess the results of his efforts. The maester then looks over at you.

You've never been in a position to be responsible over someone so injured. Are you meant to...dismiss him? Approve his work? Ask something? "Is he..." Well seems like a terrible overstatement. You force yourself to take a few steps forward. "How is he?"

He briefly presses his lips together. "Much more stable than he was previously, your grace. I am afraid that I cannot yet predict much about his recovery. As of now, the priority is preventing infection."

You allow your gaze to fall onto Aegon. There's something about the way he's lying there, immobile and broken and smaller than he should be. "Right. Well, thank you."

The maester nods, "It is my honor, your grace."

He begins to gather his supplies before leaving. At the maester's absence, the maid that had been assisting him turns towards you. "Is there anything you need, your grace?"

You briefly consider sending her out for water or asking her to bring you a book you left in your own apartments. A menial task would ensure her return, which would mean you'd have a temporary reprieve from being alone with Aegon like this. "No, I'm alright. You are free to go."

She nods at the dismissal, "Thank you, my queen."

Queen. The title that belongs to your mother in her own right, not as a position inherited towards marriage.

The girl leaves, her quiet footsteps nearly drowned out by Aegon's unsteady breathing. You watch her until she's disappeared through the doorway, and then for awhile longer. When you can no longer justify your silence, you step forward.

Standing so close to the foot of Aegon's bed tugs at something deep inside of you. He is so still, so without defense. Like this, he does not seem like a man desperate to cement his position, or the person you never wished to be bonded to in this way, or even the only one who you allowed to enter your apartments after news of your brother's death arrived at the Red Keep. Now, he only seems like a boy trapped midway between where he lies and death.

Though bandaged and burned, the entirety of Aegon's features have not been destroyed. The shape of his nose, the part of his lips still familiar. His hair had not been a priority, and while the maester did brush it back to work on him, the disheveled strands have fallen forward again.

You move away from his bed's edge with careful steps. Before you can overthink the act, your hand moves to his forehead. As gently as you can will yourself to, you unplaster the hair stuck to the oily salves on his forehead. Your fingers catch themselves on silvery knots. You begin to pick apart the largest tangles as best as you can without a comb.

It's not an easy task, sweat and product cementing the knots into place. "I'd hate it if no one brushed my hair." The words come out on instinct, the desire to justify your proximity the way you would if he was awake. In all honesty, you're not sure if he can hear you.

The process is slow and clumsy, nails separating strands for you to comb through. Up close like this, you can almost pretend that this is restful for him. He still doesn't look well, but from here you can focus on his shut eyes and parted lips. Your hand drifts away from his hairline, fingertips fluttering over bandages and brushing against unmarred skin.

Something awfully sentimental attempts to claw its way up your throat. "I'll go get a comb." You pull your arm away from him. "I'll--I'll be back, I promise."

You take a single step back before turning your back to him. The maester deemed him stable, which means that he will not spontaneously pass if left alone for a moment. You'll only leave to fetch a comb and maybe a book so that you have something to read aloud. He's never loved your novels, but it's the only way you can think to keep him com--

A soft sound, so gentle and brief you could almost convince yourself you imagined it if it wasn't for the distinctness of the word. Your name.

You stall. Perhaps you misheard something else, maybe a stuttering of his breathing or the room settling. You turn.

He remains unchanged--body in the same position it's been in this entire time and eyes still shut. The supposed whisper should be dismissible.

You step forward, voice fragile as you ask, "Aegon?"

For a moment, pressed between the audible strain between his breaths, a faint optimism pulses through you. Weeks of being a bride, a queen of the realm hated by all those around her, and your only form of protection has, ironically, been the man that's bound you to this place.

The hope fluttering in your stomach quickly morphs into something closer to dread. He is not awake. He is not well enough to call for you or any--a shift, a turn of his outstretched hand so small and inconsequential you likely would not have noticed if it was any less needed.

Ignoring the blurring edges of your vision, you move towards his bedside in quick strides. Without thinking, your hand finds his. "I know that this union is not one you entered willingly. I am also aware of the fact that you know I did not ask for this either." You've not often held Aegon's hand, but now you're glad for his tangibility. "But you--you have not been cruel. You've actually been surprisingly patient, even when I have given you reason not to be."

His palm is warm against yours, the familiarity of it strangely assuring. The few times you've laid together for the sake of duty, the heat of Aegon's skin had been one of the few aspects of the process that you were reluctantly drawn to.

"At times, you have been kind..." You blink in an attempt to dismiss the stinging behind your eyes. "Friendly, even." Your hold on him tightens. "And I miss that. I--I miss our friendship."

The grief in your chest is a hybrid thing, made up just as much out of your empathy and fear as it is by your hurt. It's a sensation so dizzying, you nearly pour your panic out to him. You have to bite your tongue to avoid asking him to not leave you alone here.

Tears are beginning to prick the corner of your eyes when you feel his fingers bend around yours. Aegon squeezes your hand with a barely recognizable force.

He's--he's awake. "Aegon?"

His hold on you does not falter as a faint sigh escapes his lips, a midway of his own.

- - - -

a/n not to offer a part 2 to everything i write but i have an idea for a second fic that’s connected to this so if ur interested lmk :)))

A Matter of Timing

Midway part 2!! read part one here: Midway

Summary: Despite the hardships of your marriage to Aegon, the two of you reach a new understanding during the aftermath of his accident.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as friendship, descriptions of (chronic) pain, aegon's recovery being sped up slightly through a small time skip for the sake of plot, slight aemond slander, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

----

The light spilling in through the window is a beacon, the warmth of it offering the king's apartments something beyond the somber sterility that followed his father throughout his final years.

At times, if Aegon allows his mind to dwell on the similarities between his situation and Viserys's the ache of his body morphs into something else, an all consuming beast that nearly makes him wish Sunfyre's wing had never cradled his broken body. It'd be a simple thing to spend the rest of his days being constantly mended within the safe confines of this room.

Someone else would rule in his place--like his mother and grandsire had done for his father--likely the same man, the same brother that betrayed him, and Aegon's role as a vestigial only ever visited out of obligation would be cemented into reality.

"I'm sure you're tired of novels..." The voice is not much different than the sun's light, a thing of warmth. His father did not have anything similar to you. "But I do not have much to speak of."

Aegon believes it. His authority was one of the few things holding you to your position. Now, with him here, he imagines your existence within the Red Keep has only grown more precarious. His mother had been petitioning to separate you from the monarchy since before the incident. He can't imagine anyone of significance telling you anything.

"Your small council meets often, which seems to be occupying a great deal of your mother's time." Your summary is blank, straightforward as you search your thoughts for information he might be interested in. "Aemond's recently been named regent, though I'm sure someone must have told you that already."

Aemond. The confirmation of his suspicions jabs at him, the assuring nature of your voice briefly losing its hold on him. He begs his body, his mind to cry out...All he can manage is a rasp that's almost a name and twitch of his fingers.

The seat you've pulled next to his bed side creaks as you shift. You've always been encouraging of his movements, invested in each sign of the life still clinging to him in a way that implies a devotion someone like you could never feel for him. "Aegon?" He tries again, another ragged distortion of his brother's name. "Are you--Do you want him?"

No. You are the only one that seems to be on his side entirely. You may detest his family, you may desire your mother's rule, but his recovery matters to you. Even with your care, he has no way to express what he needs to.

He squints his eyes open, a task that takes more from him than he'd ever admit. His sight is weak, the side of his face that took the worst of Vhagar's flames agitated by the effort. You're close enough for him to make out your features, your expression. With your eyebrows pinched together like that, you look a little younger, like the girl that used to pretend to understand the crude jokes made by her brothers and uncles.

You shift closer, your hand finding a place on his bed. With trembling fingers, Aegon manages to place his hand over yours. Your gaze dips downwards, briefly landing on where your fingers meet before finding his features again. You study him with a focus that'd be unnerving coming from anyone else.

Your lips part before you're ready to speak. "You don't want Aemond here." It's not a question.

Your understanding reaches something deep inside of him. The relief offers him the strength needed to tilt his chin downwards, an approximation of a nod. You let out a breath, a question clearly waiting on the tip of your tongue.

The sound of assured footsteps stops you from asking it. You press your lips together, attention shifting towards the room's entrance. The door groans as it's pulled open, the footsteps continue, clearer now. Aegon's eyes flit towards the doorway in time to see his brother.

Instead of looking at the results of his betrayal, Aemond's eye settles on something just past Aegon. You. "Your grace."

Dread coils itself inside Aegon's stomach. His fingers bend as much as he can will them to, his hold on you attempting to convey anything that might get you to stay away from Aemond.

Overnight, Aemond has been consumed by a monster that's fed off his loyalty, leaving nothing in its wake but a shell of who his brother used to be. That beast has no place near you.

Your eyes don't leave Aemond, but your fingers do press into his, a subtle confirmation of something. "My lord."

Aemond steps forward, his hands politely held behind his back. "How is my brother?" Another step towards his bed, towards you. Aegon's body aches with the desire to move, to place an even greater wedge between you and Aemond. "You are by his side more than ever these days."

Your lips press together, a tight lipped smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "It seems someone should be." The lack of subtlety in your comment seems to hit you a moment too late. In an attempt to remedy your mistake, you tack on something polite, "With you all understandably concentrating on the war efforts and ruling over your people. You more than most, prince regent."

Your shift to docility paired with the reminder of Aemond's new position seems to work. The corner of Aemond's mouth pulls itself upwards, a predator's smile. "So you've heard."

"Your mother told me this morning," you pause, "She often comes by during the mornings when Aegon's bandages are replaced to oversee his recovery." Aemond moves even closer, his knees practically against the side of Aegon's mattress. "It feels odd to congratulate you considering the circumstances, but I am sure it is still a great honor to serve your realm."

Aemond's single eye focuses on your expression. Aegon feels the inflation of his lungs stall. "Thank you, my queen." His brother's gaze does not leave you. "You seem to have taken to your own service." Aegon's stare does not leave you. "Mornings, evenings, sometimes through supper...you stay by your husband's side." He lets out a low breath. "Though noble, I do worry that you are not making enough time for your own rest."

The concern in Aemond's voice ignites something in Aegon's blood. It is not enough to disfigure him and steal his throne, now Aemond needs his wife as well. This is another aspect of Aemond's greed that Aegon should have long ago suspected.

Despite your questionable parentage and the circumstances surrounding your union, your beauty has never been deniable. Of course Aemond had seen it as well. Your way of being is another factor that made being forced into this marriage tolerable, even when you hated him most, your arguments and protests had never been cruel, they had only been vexing in the most intriguing way possible. Aegon should have known that, too, would not go unnoticed by his brother.

Aegon's fingers tighten around yours. "Though appreciated, your concern is unnecessary." Your voice is even, words measured. "I often rest in my own apartments, as they are connected to my husband's, which means that I do not have to worry about him needing something and no one being around to hear him."

"Your loyalties to the king are admirable." Aemond moves even closer to Aegon's bed, his knees pressing into the bed's side. "And they have been noticed. We are both aware of the skepticism some hold towards you because of your mother, but no one can deny that you are a good queen. You are poised, intelligent, and beloved by the small folk."

Aemond extends an arm over Aegon's form, his fingers gently brushing against the edge of your hairline, pushing a stray strand of hair back into place. "And I plan to look after you in the ways your husband cannot, as my brother would have wanted."

If Aegon were capable of full movement, he'd take his brother's remaining eye. As if sensing his unease, or perhaps even feeling some of your own, your hand squeezes his. "That is very kind of you, my lord. Thank you."

He nods, straightening fully. "Of course. I must now leave you both, the small council is waiting for me. I was only given a moment to check on the king's health."

"Yes, attend to the king's small council, your brother is well looked after."

Aemond presses his lips together, his expression uncertain. "I am sure."

With that, Aemond turns around. His footsteps are even, unhurried as he moves towards the room's entrance. You're quiet as he leaves, attention focused on the doorway.

After a long moment, once you are certain that Aemond is no longer within the confines of Aegon's apartments, you scoff. "I wouldn't want him involved in my recovery, either."

Your thumb drags against his knuckles, the contact so soft it borders on overwhelming. "But you--the two of you were close, weren't you?" Your eyebrows pinch together curiously. "At least, relatively so. You defended him after..." You blink, eyes glossier than they were a moment ago. "After Luke."

Aegon should have known then that Aemond was never meant to be an integral part of his reign. That type of instability, that connection to rage...loyal as a hound. The only thing his brother feels a sense of duty towards is his own ambition.

If he had punished his brother for Lucerys's death, exiled him, he wouldn't be here. You'd also--it would have been an opportunity to demonstrate his commitment to his wife.

"I--" His throat burns around the syllable. You blink, the grief melting away from you as you focus on his words. "Things are different now." The energy it takes to form the words is not worth the cost. He cannot even decide what to focus on. You--comforting you, or attempting to explain Aemond's betrayal.

You squeeze his hand. "Even when it hurt, a part of me always understood why you sided so adamantly with Aemond. That is not to say that I was not angry..." He remembers your rage, the threats you had made again and again before breaking down. Aegon said nothing as you cried, but he did smooth circles against your back until you fell asleep. "I would have done anything for my brother."

You let out a low breath, the grief behind your eyes melting into something more present. "You are speaking more more these days." There's a warmth to the phrasing that soaks into his skin. "It is...assuring." Your fingers press into his. "If you do not mind me asking, why do you not wish to see Aemond?"

Aegon watches you openly, taking in your features and the softness behind your eyes. After everything that happened between the two of you, the circumstances of your marriage, you found it in you to tend to him as he struggled to not lose his hold on life. How could he repay your kindness by telling you the truth?

You're quicker to action when it comes to defending others, he had seen it in the way you spoke of Lucerys. As of now, Aemond seems to like you, or at the very least, want you. And though the thought makes his skin crawl, that is a much safer position for you than knowing what Aemond is. At the very least, until Aegon recovers enough to be in a position to defend you.

"He saw me go after Meleys after--he told me not to." The lie leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He squeezes your hand, reminding himself what he's doing this for. "And--and he is ruling now, he should--he should remain focused."

You watch him for a moment, eyebrows pinched together uncertainly. He lets out a breath, slowly moving his arm. Aegon ignores his pain as he lifts your hand to his lips. What the gesture takes from him is returned by your smile.

----

Evenings are usually his respite, the time between the late afternoon and true nightfall.

These fleeting hours provide him something much needed. A way of pretending that he is no patient, no burden. With no one around to hover and spare him pitiful glances, Aegon can almost imagine that his life has gone unchanged.

Especially during the evenings in which you join him. The solitude softens you, allowing you to speak freely and sometimes even jest about some of the happenings of his court. You’re rarely able to update him on any significant political changes, but he finds the gossip you can offer him distracting enough—or, at the very least, your delivery of the rumors is.

Tonight, however, there have been no stories recounting a supposed affair between Ser Criston Cole and some unknown woman or of the changes in the small folk’s attitudes. There has only been silence and the flickering of candlelight.

He glances towards the seat to left of his bed, one of your books abandoned in your place. The cane one of the maesters had encouraged him to begin practicing with is propped up against the wall behind the chair. Perhaps you are starting to realize that what drew you to Aegon was not some newfound appreciation of your connection, but your goodness, your desire to repair him the way you would a wounded animal.

Though still healing, Aegon has made it a few paces away from death's doorstep. He's been instructed to practice moving as much as he can bear to, to get used to strain of his limbs and the protests of his body. However, Aemond and the small council have made a point of suggesting Aegon does all he can to keep his recovery process away from prying eyes for the sake of morale.

The soft sound of footsteps echoes from beyond one of the walls that keep him from the outside world.

"I appreciate you taking the time to escort me to my husband's apartments, my lord."

Aegon's fingers dig into his sheets, his body incapable of giving him the force needed to exhaust any real frustration. That's another thing that seems to have changed in these last few days. With the crown on his head, Aemond has pivoted towards a new goal--you.

"These are uneasy times, my queen, I am glad to be assured of your safety."

His queen. Aemond has done all he can to protect your position within the Red Keep. He continues to promote you, partly out of a way of placating the small folk that support you and mainly as some kind of ploy to draw you in.

"Thank you, again," you say, "I won't keep you any longer, your time is valuable."

Without another word from his brother, the door to his apartments creeks open. Less than a minute later, the final door dividing the two of you is pushed open slowly. The hinges still creek, but you're still more careful than you need to be as you continue forward.

You turn to face him before the door can fall shut. "You're sitting." The words are said with such warmth, Aegon's frustrations are nearly banished from his mind.

"You've seen me sit."

His flatness does not quell your joy. "I know, but you're not with the maester...and it--it's later than you'd usually sit." You continue forward, stopping at the foot of his bed. You allow yourself to watch him openly. "And your skin is losing its yellow undertones." You place a hand on the foot of his bed, eyes shifting away from him. "Watching you recover...it has brought me a great deal of peace."

There's a hint of vulnerability in the way you stare at his bedding. Aegon lets out a breath. You are not the conniving type, and you have no way of knowing what Aemond really is. "Well, you deserve a great deal of credit." The words are enough to get you to begin walking again. "I do not know where I'd be without you."

You smile, stalling at the other side of his bed. "I am wonderful, I know." You place your hand against the bedding, but not yet pulling them back. "In reality, I wish there was something I could to ease your pain. You are the one that is still recovering from Meleys's flames."

He turns his head enough to look at you. "You deserve a great deal of credit for that as well."

You smile again, this time the look a much more genuine thing. "Can I stay in here tonight?"

The question is one of the few formalities that you still cling onto. You sleep in his bed more often than your own these days. "I'd never ask you to leave my bed."

You roll your eyes as you push back his sheets. You push off your shoes before crawling into his bed. He enjoys your proximity more than he'd ever be able to tell you.

You settle close enough for him to be able to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin. "I missed you tonight."

"Then perhaps you should have taken your supper with me."

You let out a low breath. "I wanted to, but Aemond asked me about how often I have supper here, and I couldn't think of what to say."

Aegon cannot help his scoff. "And when Aemond calls..."

You turn to face him, your body shifting even closer. "He is acting as the king, he is your regent--"

"My regent, my throne, my wife." The embittered words come out before he can stop them.

"What?" You're staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes. "You cannot possibly think that I, of all people, have been disloyal to you."

Regret immediately jabs at his chest. His anger, his fear, none of it has anything to do with you. "No, I did not mean it in that way."

"I am here when you go to bed, I am here when you rise, I am here more than I am anywhere else. In what moment would I have had time to be unfaithful?" You push your weight onto your knees, hurt pooling in your eyes. "Perhaps while eating with your family, or--or sitting with the ladies of a court that loathes me?"

The yellow glow of the candlelight highlights the shininess of your eyes. "I tolerate my brother's murderer because we are married, because I am left no other option. Do not ever accuse me of betraying you or Luke like that ever again."

The words are sharp, tears brimming in your eyes as you force them out. Guilt ensnares some vital force in his chest, the pain of his body amplified by reget.

He whispers your name, the sound raspy and pathetic. "It is not you, it is the fucking traitor that is determined to take everything of value from my life."

You blink, the self righteous anger and offense briefly leaving you. "Traitor?" The mistake leaves his face warm. "What--" Your eyes flit towards the door. "Aegon, I am going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. If these last weeks have meant anything to you, I want you to be honest with me."

He swallows. You reach for his hand. "Your injuries--are they from Meleys's flames?"

Aegon squeezes your palm to his with a force that leaves pain pulsing up his arm. Beneath the weight of your stare, your silent pleading, he breaks. Aegon shakes his head.

You exhale, an odd sort of tranquility coloring your features. "Okay." Carefully, you bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. The serenity of your movements throws him. "Thank you for your honesty."

Aegon watches as you set his hand down gently. You begin to shift back, forcing Aegon to straighten his spine even further. "Where--where are you going?"

"To tell the guards that their prince regent, the same man that removed his own mother from the small council, the same man that killed my--" Your voice cracks at the last syllable. "My brother, has now attempted to kill--" The words waver before breaking off entirely. "To kill the king."

Aegon reaches for you, his fingers finding their way around your wrist. He latches onto you as if you might disappear if he allows you to. "We cannot say anything."

The sentence pushes you away, sending you to that distant place that took you after your brother's passing. Aegon ignores the way his side protests as he sits up even further, his hand coming to rest against your spine.

"Guards know no loyalty beyond orders and their wages, Aemond is in a position of immense power. You are beloved by the people, but hold little standing in your own court." He runs his knuckles against your lower back. "Look at me. Any number of incidents resulting in my death could be deemed an accident. I can't--I can't protect myself, let alone you."

It takes you a moment to return. "He killed my brother." Tears begin to run down your face. "He almost killed you." You're crying openly now. "We need--we--"

"I know," he whispers, "But as of now, we have nothing except things to lose." Aegon moves his hand, allowing it to settle against your waist. "He likes you now, and that--that is a safe thing."

You inhale sharply, the sound a little more than a sniffle. "I don't care."

"I do." This is one area that he is unwilling to compromise in. "I won't risk you." He releases your side in favor of reaching for your face, his thumb wiping at already spilled tears. "Promise me that you will not do anything. Please."

"We cannot let him get away with this."

"We won't," Aegon vows, "Because we will wait until the right time. I will heal further. He will make a mistake, and if I do not hear of it, you will." He drags his thumb against your cheek again, his fingers settling beneath your jaw. "Promise me."

After a moment, you nod. "I promise." The words are shallow and uncertain, but Aegon does not fear them. You mean your promises. "What if he hurts you again?"

"As long as I am feeble and making no attempts to regain control or expose him, he has no need to." You look up at him, expression unconvinced. "And he will not do anything in front of you."

You dip your chin downwards, a halfhearted nod. "I will not leave you." There's an earnestness there that rattles something inside of him. Your unflinching resolve to promise that you're there for him, that this is not his battle alone.

Aegon shifts forward, his body begging him to resume neutrality as he begins to pull you towards him. You're quick to respond, leaning into his touch. Aegon presses his lips against yours.

He's kissed you before--at your wedding, a few times during your handful of attempts at producing a child, and even less times during the day when particularly enjoying your company. But this is something else, something more desperate and meaningful. His lips drag against yours with less ease than he'd like, a dull ache nearly taking him out of the moment.

You pull back first, your breaths ragged as you look at him. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

It was not simple, but far from agonizing enough to make it unworthwhile. "Do not apologize for that." You nod without looking him in the eye. Aegon moves back, allowing his back to rest against cushioning. "Go have your ladies help change you into your night gown, and come back."

It's early for you to get ready for bed, but no one would find it strange. The two of you are married, which means you are welcome to spend as much time together as you'd like. Besides, Aegon likes the thought of you leaving now and not needing to go anywhere until morning.

You agree without question, moving away from him with a subtle nod. "I'll return in a moment."

You leave out of the door that connects his apartments to yours. Before he knows it, you're knocking on the door once before entering his space again. You seem a little lighter, hair brushed and face washed. You return to bed wordlessly, covering yourself with his sheets before resting your head against his shoulder.

Aegon's hand settles against your knee. "I walked a little longer with the maester today."

"That's wonderful," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'd like to see that. Tomorrow I'll be here instead of sitting with the ladies."

The thought is easing. "I'll put on a good show for you."

"I'm sure you will." You place your hand over his. "I know that you said not to say anything, and it's a timing issue...but there has to be something we can do."

He turns over his hand, his fingers intertwining themselves with yours. "It would help weaken Aemond's claim if I were to have another, more evident heir."

The implications of the statement take you a moment to understand. Once you do, you squeeze his hand a little tighter. "Oh."

The few times the two of you had attempted to create an heir had been far from unenjoyable, just a little uncertain. After Lucerys's death, you were clearly and understandably not in the mood to be looked at a moment too long let alone touched. Aegon obliged you, and would be willing to keep leaving you to yourself if that's what you want.

"We could go back to trying to produce an heir," you mumble, body becoming a little more rigid against him.

He runs his thumb along your knuckles. "Really?"

"I mean, once you're healed enough to feel physically ready," you pause, a little unsure of yourself, "It seems a fitting course of action, and we are married."

He smiles to himself, lifting your hand to his lips. "We are."

----

a/n i'm leaving for my birthday trip tonight so if u liked this u should def send me aegon asks to come back to 🙏💗

Taglist: @dracaryxzs @callsignwidow @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @kazupop @hikaerys @froggyfrip @theargoblog @targaryenswhxre @woodlandwrites @familyshow-orisit @dinomecanico @forevercountingstars @bibli0thecary @magictrump @tempo-rary-fix @mrs-starkgaryen

me and my mad bitches

The Green Council

I just appreciate this beautiful shot.

« You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children. »

Buy me a coffee?

i mean if i saw vhagar about to fry me up i too would scream cry shake throw up

And I'd still fuck him🤷‍♀️

Me, knowing what’s about to go down tonight

Aegon and Jaehaerys deserve a good afterlife , don't care what anyone else has to say.

They don't deserve you my sweet little babies, they never did.

Rest in peace Aegon Targaryen, you would’ve loved a blue raspberry vape.

Just a personal opinion but like we all know how gorgeous Tom Glynn- carney is and him as Aegon is Chefs Kiss but-

SPOILER -(for everyone who hasn’t watched the last few episodes of s2)

They really wanna make me believe Aegon is ugly now half burnt? Like he’s still serving Face? Not gonna lie it’s not *that* bad -

Still a pretty boy

Pls tell me I’m not the only one

House of the Dragon // Ramsay Bolton (GoT)

forget honour | aemond and aegon

masterlist

Summary: The two silver haired princes claim you, from the moment they saw you.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, making out, drunk, no PIV but it’s implied. throuple vibes. no y/n used, we ain’t do this here

Pairings: Aegon x f!reader, Aemond x f!teader

You don’t know how you got here, with these boys.

One night, you were helping Aegon return to his room after he had stumbled into the courtyards late at night, drunken and ill.

And one day, you had stumbled into Aemond yourself while trying to use a sword all too heavy, and he had helped you find one more suited to your tastes.

Now, you were seeing both of them everywhere.

Aemond routinely accompanied you in the library whenever you went, would train you while getting a little too close and walking you through the gardens.

Aegon, he didn’t find excuses for his attachment. Simply barging into your chambers at an unbecoming time of night, taking his place near your side. He would often dismiss your handmaidens in the mornings, insisting he help dress you instead.

You did not mind the attention one bit. And eventually, it got more heated. You remember it well.

Sitting in the library, Aemond was by your side. He held a book in his hand, but he much preferred to read you, your body language, your words. He didn’t bother to hide it, his hand landed on your thigh.

The two of you had the library to yourselves at such a time at night. Asides from the guards at the door, who dare not interrupt the one eyed prince. His thumb stroked the fabric of your dress, applying the perfect amount of pressure to send teasing strikes of euphoria through your veins.

Aemond enjoyed the look you spared him from the very side of your eye. Though this was not enough for him to falter. He moved his hand to your knee, where he clutches the fabric of your dress, looking into your eyes with his one, asking for approval.

Your mind screams ‘No.’ but your body takes the lead, and you nod. His hand quickly disappeared under your skirt, pushing your small clothes out of the way just a little bit. You gasp, muffling it with your hand. He parts your moist folds, feeling around for the little bud. Every movement of his agile finger makes you squirm, swearing under your breath.

Your hands holding your book quiver, and you struggle to hold it, even with both hands. His thumb moves to circle your clitoris with just the perfect amount of force, meanwhile his index parts your folds once more. You sharply intake your breath as it pushes into your hole.

You almost cry out as he finds the rough patch within your walls, you buck against his finger, and he learns you like it when he makes a come hither motion. He’s learning you, and it might just be his favourite thing ever.

It’s not long before your orgasm builds up, and Aemond can feel it. His thumb using your juices to smoothen his attack on your clit, while his index still worked expertly inside you. Letting out smaller little whimpers, whispering for him to never stop as if he is all of the gods at once.

You come undone with a crash, gripping your book to the point where it’s indented into your palms, and knuckles have paled. Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

Just the memory leaves you reeling, breath picking up. And then there’s Aegon, who had surprisingly enough made little to no attempt at laying with you, though close enough.

Aegon’s tongue tastes of wine as it mixes with yours. The two of you had indulged while in the gardens, leaving both sides feeling risky as Aegon had you cornered against the wall of a secluded seating area deep within the gardens.

Your hand knots in his hair, tugging, with each tug a delicious whimper escapes from those swollen lips of his. His hands ferociously grope at your bodice, cupping your ass, running up your sides to rub at your modestly covered tits. Though you attempted to keep yourself ladylike, your chest pressed against the fabric of your dress, leaving you assets well on display, even when covered.

Aegon loved it, hands going back down at yiur ass to which he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his hips. His hardening cock eagerly pressing against you.

Though the moment was far from long lived as a guards armour alerts you both to a new presence, and you pull away.

It was beautiful, how both the princes had taken such a liking to you. You had no doubt in your bones that they wanted you just as harshly as you wanted- no- needed them.

They both had made you feel things, and those things would never be forgotten. And that was certain as you looked to your side, the comforts of your furs paling in comparison to the two bare men before you, who had just fucked you raw, their silver hairs splaying out behind them, Aemond still managed to look elegant, so beautiful. Aegon, was adorable.

You were going to keep these boys, and they were going to keep you. You are theirs and they are yours.

“do something else” and he did alcoholism

(Aegon version)

One -Shot La casa del Dragón - |Aemond Targaryen| (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1282944719-one-shot-la-casa-del-drag%C3%B3n-aemond-targaryen?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Makasan-27104&wp_originator=buQMglaGNwQdqyC4Pwhe1hFNR%2FnYeueH4Rtbv1apM3zEK4iA%2F%2BEWy9FfJxXCN8CFTkE%2F8k7cAVxL7XbRrwvODoQ%2Bf7HR3DDK%2BadXUFEOeyZCI2G%2F2cFQrsm%2F%2FvxhmCKG muchas historias y aventuras😊

AEGON MARTYNSON

twenty-six | he/him | 190 cm | half Dryad | Nord

Maybe You mean every word you say Can't help but think of yesterday And another who tied me down to lover boy rules Before this river Becomes an ocean Before you throw my heart back on the floor Oh baby I reconsider My foolish notion Well I need someone to hold me But I'll wait for something more I gotta have faith — George Michael

~ Excuse

Over time, he had gotten used to people staring at him in the streets. They had never seen a Dryad outside of Rania's forest, so it's only natural that they are curious. Even if he was only half-Dryad, his ears turned upwards instead of down.

When he was younger it had irritated him immensely at how often the children wanted to touch his ears. Yet he let them, seeing how happy it made them.

"Next one, please." He calls forward a young woman, a poncho over her shoulder, a hood above her head.

She smiles when she meets his gaze. "I've heard of the Dryad working for that unreasonable healer, but I'd never thought it to be true."

"I'm just helping out a good friend and Elora is one of the best healers I've met." He smiles too, meaning every word, "How can she help you today?"

"Ah." The woman stands on her tiptoes, since he was by far bigger than her, "What if I just came to see if the rumours are true?" She bats her eyelashes, "What if I want to invite you for a drink?"

"Then I'd be flattered." He says a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his head, "But I would have to decline, she still needs me here."

The woman pouts, "Not even if I ask very nicely?"

"Oh, well." He looks a little embarrassed now.

"I heard you give very good advice and I was hoping you could help me out with a problem of mine. It would mean alot to me." Her smiles was still bright, hopeful eyes awaiting his answer.

"I'm sure we can grab a drink after I finish-"

"Perfect!" She beams, cutting him off, "I'll meet you at the Mountain Inn, when the last sunlight vanishes behind the walls. I look forward to it."

Before he could reply, she was already skipping out of the clinic. Aegon let out a long sigh.

"You said you were done with dating."

"Ack!" He swung around, surprised to hear Elora suddenly stand behind him.

"That you wanted a break from it all." She speaks, not in the slightest bothered by his reaction.

"I- yes, I said that, but she looked so sad." He rubs the back of his head.

She stares at him. "So, you'd rather lead her on or in the end even date her, to prevent her from being unhappy?"

"I yes, I can see how you might think that…" he didnt had a good excuse, slumping his shoulders, "You're right. I'm a hopeless cause. She wanted my help, I can't possibly deny her that."

"I can see now why you've never been in a relationship longer than a week." She moves past him, collecting the papers gathered on the table next to him.

"I will explain it to her, just- I need time to think of the nicest way to do so."

She takes the pages, shifting through them. "There is no nice way to break someone's heart. It only gets worse the longer you wait."

He scatches his chin. "You seem to know alot about that."

"My mother tried to marry me off at any given moment." She turns to Aegon, "I turned them all down."

"Then you can help me! I mean, should she even ask to date me."

"It seems the whole town does. So the chances are pretty high. They see you as a price to win and you let them." Elora stares at him coldly, before turning the papers towards him. "And you forgot to fill out the records again, how do I know which tonic I gave to which patient?"

Aegons smile widened, not having heard her last words. "Then pretend to be my date and she will get the message."

"You're just looking for an excuse to not having to reject her yourself. I am busy."

"Oh, come on, Elora, you're always busy. I've been helping you by keeping the people as far away from you as possible. You don't have to speak to a single one of them. You like that, right? Can't you do me this one favour in return?"

She didn't appear moved at all, so he grabbed her arm, pouting, "What if I am not enough, doomed to forever be alone? Why not help me let her down easy, so before rejecting her, I can see if perhaps she is the right one for me. How else would I know?"

"She isn't." Elora says bluntly, ripping her arm free, "She came her on false pretense, you can't trust her."

Aegon frowns, "That's not a reason. You can't dismiss someone so quickly just because they made an excuse to see you. You need to get to know them first, spend time with them."

"I have no time and even if I did, I wouldn't want to support your frivolous pursues, because I can already tell they will quickly end."

"You make me sound like a heartbreaker." He smiles awkwardly.

She looks at him for a moment and he wonders what she was thinking, but then she just turns around.

"Wait, please. I need your help."

She looks back at him for a moment, halfway into her office. He tries his best at showing her his puppy-dog eyes and he'd been told, they work.

Then she takes a breath, an answer is nearing.

"No." And she closes the door in front of his face. He let his shoulders hang. Damn it.

[ words: yes ]

AEGON

[ 1 ] [ 2 ]

~ Weapon

Aegon had never been a fighter but he can respect a good made weapon if he sees one. Perhaps it was that or sheer curiosity that brought him down towards the lower district where it was said, the best blacksmith of all Skaeld resided.

Surprising enough, the people still looked up to stare at him, but that could also be because of his well-made clothes Elora had provided for him. And as quickly as they had looked up, they were looking elsewhere again.

He was starting to like it down here. Why does everyone always say to avoid this place? The market was held down here too. Everyone seemed to enjoy that.

Then suddenly someone bumped into him, due to his tall frame it barely made him stumble, but the moment he wanted to see if the person was alright, they already vanished into the next alley.

They seem very hurried down here. He thought.

"The weapon you described is expensive. I usually only add embellishments for the crown."

"Not a problem. That is why I brought…" it wasn't there, he was sure he put his purse right inside his inner vest pocket, but it was empty. Just in case, he checked the other side but there was also nothing to be found. 

Looking a bit embarasses he met the blacksmiths solemn face. "I must have dropped it. I am sure I put it in here."

"Robbed." He said, snifling once, before continuing hammering on his anvil.

"What?!" Aegon had to shout over the loud noise the man was making.

"You were most likely robbed. Happens." They shrug like its the most common occurance.

"Oh, I didn't notice." Then he remembers the person running into him, it must have happened then. He let his shoulders hang, that were all the earnings he has gotten from Elora. Now it was all gone. 

"I'm afraid I have to come back another time for my request. Is there anything you can tell me to prevent it from happening again?"

The man mumbles something under his breath, before meeting Aegons gaze beneath bushy eyebrows. "Eyes sharp. Weapon at the ready. You're tall also. Keep valuable things high up where they can't easily reach."

That makes sense. "Thank you. You are a very kind soul, sir. I shall recommend you to my friends. Then I will come back to pay you for your good services."

The man just huffs as an answer. Not much a conversationalist, but Aegon didn't mind that.

"I heard there are other things that one can do to entertain oneself here. Any suggestions?"

The man hummed and Aegon understood it as the sign for the man thinking.

"My son likes to go to the market often. Helps them out. Othertimes he visits the dwarven tavern at the very outskirts of the district. Its cheap. But I wouldn't recommend you going there. They eat you alive."

Aegon blinks at the vivid image the man was painting for him. "Then if I were to go there would your previous advise apply to it too?"

"Absolutley not!"

Aegon raised both eyebrows surprised about the mans sudden outburst.

"If you show up with a weapon into the dwarven district, you better know how to use it. Because you will need to use it."

"Oh." Aegon scatches his chin in thought, "You said your son would go there often. What would he say about inviting a few other people over."

The mans steely gaze suddenly turned ten times more darker, if that were even possible and Aegon shivered underneath it.

"Listen here, rich boy." He lifted the smeltering hot iron and Aegon takes a careful step back, "You came here to make business with me. Don't ever drag my boy into your affairs, treat me all you like, but leave him out of it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disrespect you. I will drop it, never going to mention it again."

The man huffs again, seemingly a common way of dismissing Aegons words.

"Why do you want to go anyway? Don't you have enough stuff up at your own fancy district?"

"Well, a dwarven tavern sounds like a good time."

"Not if it costs your life."

"Then, do you know where I could possibly learn to wield that weapon you are going to craft for me?" Aegon smiles, hoping to not having bothered the man too much yet. He was just the only one willing to talk to him down here.

"Once you pay me. I ain't working for free."

"Yes, of course." Aegon nods.

"Well, then." He seems to be thinking, "The guards around the walls are still recruiting. They can teach you."

Aegon frowns, before lowering his voice, "Aren't they awfully violent?"

The man looks at him, his patience visibly running thin.

"Never mind." Aegon waves the question off. "I already have a job anyway. Can't really leave it. I'll figure out how that weapon will work another way. Thank you for your patience, good man. You will hear from me again when I have earned back the money I lost."

"Stolen."

"Well, we don't know that for certain."

"I do."

Aegon presses his lips together at the stubborness of this man. He doesn't even seem to like to humour a different mindset, a possibly more creative conclusion. How to know anything at all, right? Maybe they are all just guessing.

Yet, he kept his phylosophics to himself, knowing he had taken up enough of this mans time already. "I will see you again in good time for my weapon."

With that he bids his farewell. He truly did not know why so many avoid this place. There hadn't been one person asking to touch his ears since he was here.

He felt a little bit lighter.