Chapter Text
Heavy is the head that wears a crown. For as long as Aegon could remember, it was all his mother talked about, inheriting the throne and being next in line to fulfill the duties of a King.
Viserys had plenty of years to name his firstborn son his successor but he never did, Princess Rhaenyra had been named as the King's heir before Aegon even came into the world. The boy loathes his father, they never shared much time together, Viserys would attempt to start a conversation from time to time, but they never bonded.
To Aegon, his father was no more than a stranger. It didn't help that he favored Rhaenyra in everything, he turned a blind eye to his daughter's wrong-doings— believing all the lies that came out of her mouth. Aegon has long accepted that he will never be enough for his Father. Aegon will never be Rhaenyra.
Aegon wouldn't describe the feeling as jealousy—his father viewed Rhaenyra as his only child, but Aegon had never been close to his half-sister as well, as a child his mother and grandsire would tell him stories about the Princess. The Hand liked to fill his head with lies to ensure his hatred and rivalry with his sister. Alicent on the other hand never missed an opportunity to remind Aegon that he was the firstborn child, that it was his birthright, and that Rhaenyra would do anything to sit on the Iron Throne, even if it meant that she killed her half-siblings. It was Aegon's duty to protect their family.
The crown is heavy, and the burden of it all makes Aegon want to vanish away from everything—from the throne, from his family, everything that he's ever known, he would do anything just to make the burden go away, he wanted to flee Kingslanding and live a normal life in one of the Free cities outside the continent.
Aegon loved to imagine different scenarios each time he came face to face with his nagging mother, just like now. His head throbbed painfully from all the drinking, his body ached from all the training, and his right cheek stubg badly from the strike of his mother's hand.
Alicent had accused him of touching some servant girl named Dyana. But the boy doesn't remember shit, he's drunk most of the time, in fact, he doesn't even remember the last time he was sober, all he did was either fuck with whores or drink with whores.
"How can you keep carrying on like this?" Aegon could hear the hurt in her mother's voice, the rage, and the disappointment.
"Especially on a day like today!"
Aegon finally gets up, sounding quite uninterested, "Why? What day is it today?" Before the boy could even process his surroundings, his left cheek met his mother's hand.
It stings, Aegon thinks, despite his familiarity with it, the pain feels stronger every time. He can't help but look away for a few moments, unable to bear the look of hatred in his mother's eyes.
Aegon hears his mother breathe heavily before she leans down and mutters to him. "You are no son of mine." It hurts. Aegon already knew how much of a disappointment he was, he did not need to be reminded of it. The boy looks at his mother in disbelief.
Alicent turns around and walks away, Aegon stands up, determind to fight back. "I did not ask for this." His voice trembled. "I have done anything you've asked me to." The boy says, it's humiliating when his vision starts to blur.
"And I try so.." Aegon's voice breaks and his breath becomes unsteady. "I try so hard, but it will never be enough for you or Father." He manages to finish, his hands trembling, and a single tear falls from his eye.
Their argument halts when Halaena suddenly enters the room, she is looking for the girl that Alicent mentioned earlier. Aegon watched as his mother engulfed his sister in a tight embrace. Aegon never had that.
One thing about Aegon is that he doesn't like to act innocent, he's aware of his wrongdoings—he was'n a good person. If only his grandsire and his mother saw how unfit he was to rule, then maybe they wouldn't have to force him to claim and steal his sister's birthright, and then he would be free to run away and do as he pleased.
It's too good to be true, Aegon isn't naive, he slowly accepts his fate— there is no escape from this. He has two children with his sister Halaena, and as much as he hated his parents for agreeing to betroth them, Halaena is still his sister as well, and both Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were still his children, his very blood flowed through their veins.
Aegon realized what her mother meant when he received news that Rhaenyra and Daemon, along with Aegon's bastard nephews were on their way to King's landing to solve the conflict between Ser Vaemond and Lucerys Velaryon regarding the successor of Driftmark. It had to be some sort of joke, anyone could see that Rhaenyra's children are no true Velaryon, his mother always spoke of how much of a disgrace and insult it was for the crown.
Aegon has not seen his nephews for a long time, they spent the entirety of their childhood together until they chose to reside in Dragonstone, so many years have gone by, their last encounter had been at Driftmark when Aemond lost an eye to Lucerys Velaryon while Aegon drank his way into the night. He earned a lot of beating from that one.
The night of Rhaenyra's arrival, Aegon couldn't sleep, no amount of wine could put him out or ease his nerves, he didn't quite understand the cause of his uneasiness, was he threatened by his sister's sudden appearance? Whatever it was, Aegon shouldn't show it, the boy could not afford to look weak in front of these strangers.
Aegon roamed around for what seemed like hours, the Red Keep's corridors were empty this late at night except for a few knights of the Kingsguard on duty, but they never really paid attention to him as long as he stayed within the premises. The boy wasn't really up for doing anything that required sneaking out of the Red Keep for tonight. Aegon was deep in thought, his breath a little uneasy as if he suddenly just became aware of his own breathing and the thought of it made it harder for him to manage his breaths.
Aegon found himself experiencing this a lot lately— struggling, accustomed to the empty but tight feeling in his chest. Aegon lets out a breathy laugh as he clutches to where his heart was supposed to be—his chest he calls it. Aegon doesn't possess a heart, he thinks.
Jacaerys has always had trouble adjusting in a new environment, even if he did call this place his home in the past, the Red Keep undeniably looked different from what he remembers, Alicent had certainly customized it to her own liking while the King lay in bed. The moon is almost at full, Jace thinks as he passed by the courtyard—the wind gently brushing past his face, his dark brown locks turned messy as it draped over his forehead, almost covering his eyes, he should really get them trimmed soon.
Jacaerys' attention is caught by a moving figure from his peripheral view— a person sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard. The person's back is facing him, it was dark, and the only source of light to be seen was the glow of the moon above, but even from afar Jace could recognize those long silver locks that shined in the dark.
Aegon.
Jace didn't have any business with his uncle, he was about to go on his way and ignore the other, but as he got closer, he noticed the troubled breaths coming from the older. Jace stopped in his tracks, he turned to look at Aegon, he knew it was him despite the years they spent apart from each other. Aegon's shoulder heaved up and down and he clutched his robe tighter.
Jace wasted no time and ran to his uncle's direction, placing both of his hands on the struggling boy's shoulders as soon as he was within reach, worried, Jace kneeled in front of Aegon, checking his face for any symptoms of poisoning—foaming mouth or skin turning purple. But Aegon didn't have any of those, instead, his mouth gasped for air and his eyes glistened with tears, aside from those, he looked perfectly well.
Jace sighs in relief, but he also had no clue as to what action he should take next. Aegon doesn't appear to be too pleased with his presence, but this seems to have also snapped him back to reality—he pushes Jacaerys away as he stood up, struggling to support himself. Jace lets him, and the younger watches until Aegon finally steadies his breaths, leaning on one of the pillars for support.
Before Jace could ask if he was all right, Aegon already rushed out of the courtyard and into the empty corridors, his silver hair vanishing into the dark.