Chapter Text
He presents at the age of seven and ten, late for someone his age and a Targaryen no less. So late even Helaena and Aemond presented before him, his sister a beta and his younger brother an Alpha, everyone just assumed he was a beta like his sister and that gave him leeway to do as he pleased from drinking to visiting the brothels of the Street of Silk. It’s after one of his many visits that it hits him, it's not like he couldn’t tell something was wrong he simply brushed the feeling as probably falling ill. Sleeping more, his increased appetite and just running hot but nothing some tea and potions from the maester won’t fix.
Then the sudden pain in his abdomen makes him fold into two on the stairs, he might’ve been a careless child but he did inform himself on the different secondary genders growing up and he knew betas never went into heat, and he never questioned himself, his status as beta, he was of age past the age of presenting.
It leaves no doubt in his mind he’s in heat when embarrassingly enough he feels something run down his thighs, his only luck being that he was wearing dark pants.
“Fuck.” He hisses as his body was hit with another wave of cramps, and his scent is sweeter and he knows it’s trouble for him if he ran into any alpha at court.
His body trembles and he hardly can make a step without almost giving up. He wishes his mother was there and praying he encountered no alpha.
He sees two bare feet in front of him, and raises his gaze to see his sister in front of him.
“Helaena, what are you doing here?” He manages to ask, holding his stomach.
“I saw you needed help, on the steps to a new path.” she says crouching, sitting down on the stairs, and resting his head on her legs.
He whimpers, helpless unable to process how his body was changing so fast under him.
“Shh, I called for mother.” She says and just like she materialized from Helaena’s words, Alicent comes running with two handmaidens in tow, her red curls bouncing on her shoulders and he leveled herself to where he was and brushed the hair off his face.
“My child, you’re going to be okay.” She says, worry in her tone as she and the other two servants help walk Aegon to his chambers.
“Mother, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan for this.” He pleads as soon as he’s put in his bed.
“I know Aegon, I know. This is going to hurt and I’ll ask for the Maester to brew something but I’ll be here.”
His mother has never been the best in terms of caring for him, the fact that she had him when she was a child herself, not knowing how to navigate motherhood, away from home and no one to teach her.
Aegon had never faulted her for it, she did get better with Aemond and Helaena or at least she tried to, Daeron being sent off to Oldtown as soon as he was old enough.
But seeing her right now, with worry painted on her face, Aegon kind of feels guilty he wishes she tried more with him, even when he acted out as a child and not being hit across the face or sent to his grandfather to be punished, whether it be physical or given difficult tasks.
Even now he thinks that if he wasn’t in heat if his mother saw him drunk, returning at such a late hour he’d be met with a smack across the face and a scowl.
He can’t bring himself to think of it any further, his brain fogged by the pain and changes in his body, soon enough he’s being lifted by his mother and sister and taken to his chambers.
It’s five days later his fever finally breaks down and he’s back to himself, he can tell something in him has changed and what exactly it is he doesn’t understand yet. It was one thing to read about it and learn from the septons and books, experiencing it was different.
His mother came in, looking as sleepless as he felt, small smile on her face.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Like Sunfyre stepped on me repeatedly.” He says falling back on his bed, he needed to have them changed. He felt strange still lying in it but he was way too debilitated and he needed a bath.
“Your father and grandsire want to see you when you’re feeling better.” She says handing him a clean pair of undergarments and clothes.
“I shall go meet them then” He stands up from his bed and takes the clothing his mother had brought for him.
She got his message and sighed, leaving his chambers. He was grateful she helped him with his first heat but he found it rather difficult to talk to her, disappointed or judgment always on her face whenever he did or said anything he’d rather avoid it all together rather than be met with either.
He’s fully clothed when he makes his way to the council chambers, where his father was sat with his grandfather upwards next to him.
“Congratulations my son, first omega of this new generation of Targaryens. The Gods have bestowed their blessings upon us, you’ll make a fine omega.”
“Thank you, father.” He says trying not to roll his eyes at the man, also his grandsire was there, judging gaze resting on him heavy.
His father never did pay attention to him, or any of his siblings besides Rhaenyra so it’s not so surprising he thinks he’ll make a fine omega, when he knows the Streets of Silk like the back of his hands, now knowing his designation he’d have to entertain himself in about a different way, maybe more carefully than before.
His father, the old fool really thought him being an omega was a blessing, Gods bless his heart. In some sort of way it was, he was now less of a threat to Rhaenyra’s claim but his grandsire was a man of great influence, and what he really wanted was to see one of his on the throne and unfortunately much to his disdain, Aegon was the male first born and when the day came he’d find a way to put him on the Iron Throne.
Otto never thought highly of male omegas, considering them nothing but broodmares, so it was no surprise that his demeanor changed the moment his ailing father left and his stare became more of irritation rather than the delusional happiness of his father before.
He avoids his gaze, looking at his feet as he picks at the skin on his nail with his hands behind his back.
“Chin up. Don’t worry you will be of use.” Otto says, in false reassurance that sends shivers down Aegon’s spine.
He had enjoyed the thought of being a beta, because despite the disappointment of not being an Alpha, there was no expectation placed on him not to get someone to have his heir not to carry any either and now even that he has lost, the privilege of being just average.
He heads back to his chambers, there he sees Aemond. who at the age of four and ten already stood taller than him.
“Mother told me you’re feeling well.”
“I am.”
He doesn’t know when or how but somewhere along the line he’d stop talking to his brother, things mostly soured after Aemond’s incident at Driftmark and Aegon never tried to fix things they were becoming two different people and not having almost nothing in common especially since Aemond presented as an alpha.
He finds it hard to make small talk, fresh off a conversation with his grandsire that promised to find a way to install him in a position of power if not the throne and his brother was an alpha and he himself just recently presented as an omega it wasn’t hard to figure out where his mind was going, and the thought almost made Aegon recoil in disgust. He was his younger brother, besides Daeron who he only got to see in summers when he would visit from Oldtown, being his brother-husband and having his child was not something he wanted to think about.
“Rest well, I’m heading to training.” Aemond says before leaving.
He felt completely alone, navigating a new life entirely by himself.