Chapter Text
Rhaenyras labors had started so late into the night one could almost say it had happened in the throes of early morning. Now, as she entered her third day of labor, the inhabitants of the Red Keep seemed to be able to speak no louder than a whisper as they waited for the screams to stop.
The king had long withdrawn to his chambers and had not emerged since, unable to face losing his daughter as he had her mother. Perhaps he would have allowed his wife access if asked, but the queen had made no such attempt.
No, Aegons mother was not with his father. Aegons last glimpse of her had been when he had watch her rush past a rather stunned Laenor into Rhaenyras chambers.
Aegon himself had been curled up in his hiding spot for nearly as long as she had been in there, unable to tear his gaze away from where Ser Harold and Ser Erryk kept watch. He didn’t bother to pray to the Andal gods his mother clung to, nor the Old Valyrian ones his father told stories of to Jace and Luke. The gods had never answered his prayers before and he doubted they would start now.
Or maybe the gods were like the king. Perhaps they too knew that Rhaenyra was more important than Aegon, was better suited to the role of heir, was worthier of their help than he was.
Vaguely Aegon wondered who would become heir if Rhaenyra lost her life in the childbed. Would it be Jace, a boy of only ten name days and the backing of the richest House in the realm? Or would the king follow in his grandsires footsteps and pass over his grandchild for his own child?
Aegon hoped that Rhaenyra lived, just as he had long hoped that the blood they shared would be enough to keep her from demanding his head. Hoped that upon her coronation the burden of the throne would finally be lifted from his shoulders.
Perhaps the stress would be what finally turned his father into an actual corpse. He was already most of the way there anyway.
A chuckle escaped him at the thought, Aegon clasping his hands over his mouth as he tried to keep his amusement from giving away his hiding spot. It took him a few minutes to prevent his laughter from becoming hysterical but as his laughter finally ceased, so too did the screams echoing from Rhaenyras chambers.
Aegon managed to scramble to his feet and duck past the outstretched arms of the rather surprised Kingsguards before another set of cries pierced through the air.
This time they were coming not from his sister, but from the bloody and wrinkled mess bundled into his mothers arms as she appeared at the threshold of Rhaenyra and Laenors bedchamber.
Aegon stopped dead just before his mother, who face had morphed from surprise to confusion to resignation to anger in mere seconds.
It was a struggle not to take a step back as his mother levelled her ‘that is not behaviour benefiting a prince of the realm and I know I taught you better then this’ glare onto him.
Oops.
Bursting into the rooms of the Crown Princess moments after she had given birth was probably not the most princely thing to do. Or just the most socially acceptable thing to do in general.
“Mother! How lovely to.. um.. see you here!” Aegon gulped as his mother simply raised an eyebrow at his words, moving only to rock the babe in her arms.
“Aegon…” Oh she really wasn’t happy. Aegon needed a way out of this and he needed it fast.
Luckily, it seemed the universe had sided with him today, because as a midwife appeared from behind her, Aegon was able to sidestep his mother and dart right into his sisters bedchamber.
The door closing behind him cut off the sounds of his mothers protests and Aegon stepped into the near silent bedchambers.
His mothers lack of upset had indicated that Rhaenyra had emerged from her ordeal somewhat unscathed, but Aegons fears had lingered. After all his mother and sister were not on the greatest of terms and who knew how she would react to her estranged childhood friends death. Alicent had her own fears, ones Aegon was intimately familiar with and many could perhaps be absolved with the princesses death.
None of that seemed to matter in the face of the bloody sheets the maids were pulling off of the grand bed in the center of the room. Aegon could not drag his gaze away from it, even as the rooms occupants protested his entrance, to busy trying to determine if anyone could survive losing that much blood.
“Egg?” Amid the protests of the midwives, Rhaenyras raspy call pulled Aegons gaze away from the blood-soaked bed to where she stood, her face pale and her eyes exhausted but alive.
His sister was alive and Aegon did not know if he had ever felt so relieved. He did not seem to be the only one either.
Stood behind Rhaenyra, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist while the other gripped her arm, the relief in Laenors eyes was palpable to the entire room. Aegon had never seen either of the couple so exhausted, Rhaenyra seemingly unable to stand without her husbands support. Aegon stepped closer to them, suddenly very aware that he had just burst into his sisters private sanctuary at a particularly vulnerable time. Considering that Aegon could barely remember the last time he had had a conversation with either of them, he could imagine they were probably rather confused.
Aegon wouldn’t blame them if they had him dragged out, wouldn’t protest either now that he knew Rhaenyra was alright. He shifted towards the door as Laenor turned his attention to the servants behind them, intending to leave before Laenor could… wave the midwives off? Aegons eyes shuttered as they obeyed their mistresses husband, bewildered as to why he hadn’t been ordered out of the room yet. Perhaps the Heir to Driftmark intended for him to apologise before having him dragged out?
“Aegon.” It seemed Rhaenyra was more than happy to let her husband deal with the maids, simply beckoning the boy over as everyone else retreated. “It is good you are here, Laenor has been stubborn in his refusal to sleep so long as I could not and I’m quite sure that he may fall asleep before he can even help me out of the room.”
Unbidden, a shy grin overtook Aegons face as Laenors protested his wife’s words. It seemed that even if both were too tired to stand they were not too tired to tease one another, allowing Aegon to quietly slip an arm around Rhaenyra as the two bantered.
She was warm. Aegon supposed he should have expected it, the blood of the dragon ran through her veins as much as it did his. But Aegon could not remember the last time he had been so close to someone so warm, let alone half embracing them.
It was nice and as they moved towards the outer chamber Aegon found himself loathing the thought of letting go. But he did, even if every part of him screamed to return to the warmth, even if it felt as if he had been dumped outside Winterfell in the middle of a snowstorm as he continued to lower Rhaenyra onto the couch, ice crawling through his veins as he peeled himself away.
Aegon braced himself to spend the approaching night shivering in his bed with only a bottle of wine to keep him warm, mind already racing with ideas on how to sneak one past his guards before a blaze of warmth settled over his arm.
He could not prevent his yelp as Rhaenyra pulled him down onto the settee with surprising strength for a woman who had just spent three days in active labor. The princess seemed quite happy to simply ignore his bewilderment and simply pulled him into her side as a shadow fell over them.
His mother stood there, her eyes gleaming with suppressed amusement and her lips quirked upwards slightly. In her arms she cradled the cause of all this fuss, the squirming newborn he had glimpsed earlier. Clean as the babe was now, Aegon could see the brown fuzz crowning the babes head. The other features were still much too wrinkled for Aegon to determine from which parent they been had inherited from, but none of that mattered as his mother lowered her precious cargo into his parents waiting arms.
“You have a beautiful baby boy Rhaenyra,” Aegon had only vague memories of his youngest brother being born and none of his other siblings, but he hoped his mothers had been as happy as looked Rhaenyras as she gazed upon her babe for the first time.
(He avoided Laenors face, unsure if he could handle looking upon the loving and wondrous look he was sure was the babes father wore.
He didn’t know if he could see Laenors happiness upon the birth of his son and know that Aegons own father had never had any happiness around his.)
Rhaenyra rocked the babe as he began to fuss and Aegon couldn’t help but lean closer as the babes hands broke free of his swaddling and managed to grab at Rhaenyras silver hair. He ran a finger over the babes arm as Laenor tutted at the newborn, managing to detangle his grip on the hair but unable to move away quick enough to avoid one of those tiny hands latching onto his smallest finger.
Aegon barely noticed as his mother came to sit beside him, as Laenor asked if he was healthy after the long labor, as Rhaenyra began musing on names. His entire worldview had narrowed down to the little babe safe and secure in his mothers arms and yet still clinging to Aegons finger.
Aegons worries drained away and were soon replaced by the exhaustion they had been keeping at bay. A soft hand ran through his hair as he drooped against the cushions behind him, his head being pulled down onto someones shoulder.
The sleep that had eluded him since the second day of his sisters labor was upon him in seconds.
In the days after the birth it seemed as if the entirety of Westeros had descended upon the Red Keep.
Aegon had expected the nobles of Westeros. They had never turned down a reason to celebrate and the birth of a new prince or princess of the realm promised festivities beyond anything they could provide. The King had already organised at least two weeks of grand feast and tournaments in anticipation of his new grandchild and upon hearing of both his daughter and his new grandsons good health after the difficult birth Viserys had declared even grander festivities in celebration of the ‘strength and courage his heir had shown’.
He had not expected to wake to the deafening roar only one creature in existence was capable of producing.
Vhagar and her rider had descended onto Kings Landing barely a day after the birth of the newly named Joffrey. Riders had been sent to escort Laena Velaryon into the city when it became clear that Vhagar had finally outgrown the Dragonpit. She had disappeared into Rhaenyras chambers, joining both her brother and Aegons mother in their attempts to aid in Rhaenyras recovery.
When both Meleys and Caraxes had landed in the Dragonpit and the Seasnakes ships had been spotted not far off the coast not two days later it had become apparent that this was going to be a family reunion. Princess Rhaenys had been the only one to bother greeting the King before taking charge of the children inhabiting the Red Keep. Helaena had been elated at Baela and Rhaenas arrival and under the careful supervision of their grandmother Jace and Luke had seemed to shake off many of their fears for their mother.
Aegon had not seen his uncle, but rumour had it Daemon had stayed only long enough to see his daughters settled and briefly visit his niece before Caraxes could be seen snaking through the skies away the Kings Landing.
Even so, as both the Baratheon and Arryn parties had already been in the Keep when Daemon had arrived, the King could be heard delighting over having all those in Westeros he considered family gathered together.
Aegon had swiped several bottles of wine and spent the entirety of the time he was meant to be at that nights feast drunk and holed up in his chambers sobbing over his little brothers letters from Oldtown. He had woken up to Aemond snoring into his pillow and Helaena curled up at the end of the bed.
Aegon had ignored the dried tear tracks on their faces and simply snuck out. Or tried to. His mother had apparently decided that the perfect time to emerge from Rhaenyras rooms and check on her children would be the morning he had a hangover. Her disapproval about his behaviour had been apparent but Aegon had thought he had escaped punishment when she had simply waved him off with orders to bathe.
Now, sitting next to her at the bottom of the dais with the Iron Throne looming behind them and the nobles chattering below them, Aegon realised he had been wrong.
His mother had not decided to let it slide, no she had just delayed his punishment. Because despite there being numerous cupbearers with pitchers of Dornish Red and Arbour Gold, none of them would fill his cup. All he had been offered was juice, as if he was Lukes age and not nearly a man grown! Now he had to sit through this horrendous feast where no doubt the King would go on and on about the blessings House Targarean had been offered and how delighted he was to have his entire family gathered together to celebrate their new addition.
Aegon groaned as he slumped in his chair, pointedly ignoring his mothers poking and his little brothers glare at his posture. This was going to be a very long and boring feast and if he had to do it without wine then damn it he would sit how he would like!
His sulking went unnoticed anyway, as the doors opened and the highest ranking nobles began being announced. Each time the doors opened the hall was greeted with a parade of extravagance, as the Lannisters, Tyrells, Tullys and more were announced. Each strode down the aisle to greet the King and meet the newborn prince, flattering him and his mother with lavish praises accompanied by not so subtle hints of their daughters, granddaughters and nieces who were of a similar age. Rhaenyra greeted each one with a benign smile, accepting their praises and promising to seek them out later.
The Baratheon party were certainly boisterous as they were led in by Lord Boremund, with the elderly man greeting not only Rhaenyra and Laenor but also Princess Rhaenys, who was his… niece? Or perhaps cousin, Aegon had never been very good at listening when the maesters explained the family trees of other nobles. Learning his own was hard enough.
Next to him, his mother tensed the doors opened again, her knuckles going white as she curled her fingers around her seat. Aegon was already turning his attention to the front of the hall as Lady Jeyne Arryn glided down the aisle arm in arm with an older woman who shared her feature. Behind them the lords and ladies of the Vale followed their liege lady, a stark contrast to the Baratheon party.
The Vale held no love for the King and Lady Arryns curt greeting made it clear she had not forgotten what had befallen her aunt. Nor whom had been responsible for it. Aegon had never quite seen his father so uncomfortable as he was now. He would have liked the Arryns based purely on that, except for the disdain with which they regarded his mother.
All that seemed to melt away when they turned to greet Rhaenyra though. The elder woman looked almost longing as she ran her finger over Joffery’s cheek and Rhaenyra seemed to have no qualms about handing over her newborn son, something she had been rather hesitant to do since his birth. It took no time at all for Jeyne to clasp at her cousins hands and thought he could not hear what they were saying, Aegon could see how happy both woman were.
Aegon still couldn’t figure out who the older woman was and a glance to his left showed similar confusion from his siblings. Leaning to his right, he clasped at his mothers hand right before she could tear into her nail beds, pulling her hand towards him under the table.
“Who is that woman with Lady Arryn? The one who is holding Joffrey.” Aegon spoke softly, the way he had heard Aemond speak when he tried to calm either his mother or Helaena. His kept his grip on her hand soft and his mother seemed to relax somewhat, giving him a fond smile he so rarely saw directed at him.
“That is Lady Amanda Arryn, sister to the late Queen Aemma and aunt to both Lady Jeyne and the princess.” His mother seemed wistful as she watched the three woman. Aegon followed her gaze, able to now pick out the features they all shared. “I believe Rhaenyra has named Joffrey in honour of her Arryn relatives, especially since it seems he has inherited many of the Arryn features.”
Aegon nodded absently, interest already lost as Lady Amanda handed Joffrey to Laenor and the Arryns took their seats. As they settled at the table closest to the dais the nobles below finally quieted down, their gazes turning to the King as the final guests settled.
But the King did not rise. Instead he simply turned to his eldest as Rhaenyra and Laenor stood, the latter cradling his youngest in his arms as the crowd turned their attentions to the Crown Princess.
“My lords and ladies, it is an honour to welcome you all and I thank you all for making the journey to join us in celebrating the birth of my son. The time since his birth has been one of great happiness and contentment for Ser Laenor and I as we welcome not only a new member of our family, but celebrate the congregation of our family, both close and distant.” Rhaenyra motioned to where the Arryns and Baratheons sat in the most honoured positions just below the dais, closest to the royal family.
“But as I am sure we are all well aware, those who travel the realm in search of knowledge or mentorship often sacrifice time with their families. While it is certainly a honourable and worthy sacrifice, there are times where such endeavours have to be put aside for the sake of family.” Rhaenyra turned to smile fondly at Alicent, her gaze making both Aegon and his mother straighten up.
“Her Majesty Queen Alicent has been by my side since our girlhood and the support and care she has provided throughout has reflected the kindness and selflessness she had always strived to emanate. Indeed such traits lead her to make a most difficult sacrifice in sending her son, my youngest brother, Prince Daeron, to her family seat of Oldtown so that he may be educated under the rigorous and diligent supervision of her uncle and family.” There was a message in there, Aegon knew. One even he, determined as he was to ignore the politics of the court, could understand.
“But as the birth of my own son has shown me, such bonds must be maintained. As such, it is with much delight and excitement to ask you all to welcome home both my brother Prince Daeron, and my uncle Prince Daemon!” Aegons mother was already out of her chair, her son frozen in his seat as the doors opened once again and in walked both his little brother and uncle.
They were barely halfway down the aisle before Daeron had been swept into his mothers arms, her normal composed and controlled demeanour no where to be seen as she reunited with her youngest son. Luckily the nobles attention was quickly drawn back to the dais as Rhaenyra continued.
“It is these sentiments that have not only driven me to summon my brother home, but have also influenced the name Ser Laenor and I have chosen to bestow upon our son, one that honours those of our family who originate from Westeros.” Here Rhaenyra turned to Laenor, who stepped forward to present the babe he held to the rest of the room.
“It is with great joy and pride that both Princess Rhaenyra and I give to you our youngest son, Prince Joffrey of House Velaryon!”
The feast had most certainly lasted late into the night, but Aegon had gone with his mother when she and the rest of his siblings had withdrawn for the night, eager to avoid the vipers nest of the court and reunite with Daeron in private.
The night had ended in a way Aegon was familiar with from his youth, all four of them curled together as they fell into sleep in his mothers chambers. But that morning had begun in a much more daunting way than the mornings of his youth had.
For back then, it would begin with a parade of nannies and servants entering to help the Queen wrangle her children and prepare for the days duties. They would be upbeat but respectful, mindful of their young charges status but unyielding to any protests.
The young maid who entered that morning was not one of those nannies. None of the nannies would have entered the Queens rooms with such a mournful and scared look on her face, nor would they have been alone.
Aegon knew what news she was delivering the moment she entered.
The King was dead.
Long live the Queen.