Chapter Text
When his father’s cousin asks how they’ve managed to end up at her doorstep at three in the morning, Aegon has an answer for it. In fact, he’s had an answer since he first snuck out of his chambers at the Red Keep, with Grandfather’s hand imprinted on his left cheek.
He doesn’t remember the full play-by-play of the past day or two, but he does remember going to the Dragonpit first, bypassing the dragonkeepers as he tiptoes into Sunfyre’s lair, shushing his little mount when the dragon, no bigger than a dog, begins to chirp. There is a single chain tied around his dragon’s ankle, and it doesn’t take much for Aegon free his hatchling and scoop him up into his arms like a babe, then dragging both Aemond and Helaena from their soft, warm beds (all of them still clad in their pajamas and night slippers) and ushering them into a disturbingly cheap Uber in the dead of night, away from Mother and Father and Grandfather.
Riding in a car with two younger siblings and a dragon is an experience Aegon would not recommend to anyone.
And then, of course, there was the part where he bribed the ferryman once they’d reached the port—he only regrets tossing the man his entire wallet just a little bit. It took them the whole night (and then some) to finally, finally dock at Spicetown, but it was just nice to be back on solid, unmoving land.
They take another cab this time, one where the air conditioner didn’t work (and having a dragon sitting in his lap certainly did not help matters), so they drive with the windows down on a hot July night for exactly two hours and twenty one minutes, only rolling them back up when the seat of the Sea Snake comes into view, its pale stone walls glimmering in the moonlight.
He bullies Aemond into paying this time—considering he literally threw his entire wallet at a disgruntled ferryman—and takes great pleasure in watching his little brother grumbling as he pulls out three, crisp hundred dollar bills (where a nine year old would get these bills, Aegon did not want to know).
The most frustrating part of the journey was the trek they had to make on foot, in silk slippers. It’s times like these Aegon wished his golden Sunfyre was large enough to ride.
(Why their uncle-by-marriage chose to build his castle on the rockiest cliff on the whole island, Aegon would never understand.)
There are a million stars in the sky when the three of them reach the castle gates, all red-faced, sweaty, and out of breath as Sunfyre circles above their heads without a single care in his tiny world.
He’s so exhausted, it’s a wonder he was able to lift his arm to pound on the massive doors.
When those pearly gates finally open, they’re met with the graying face of Maester Kelvyn, old eyes clouded with sleep even as his bushy eyebrows raise at the sight the three of them must make.
Aemond is sweating from his eyepatch, Helaena clutching the spider she found walking up the steps with all her might, Sunfyre is still swooping around for whatever reason, and Aegon is certain he looks like he hasn’t touched a bar of soap in a month.
The aging footman says nothing, merely opens the door wider as the three of them shuffle in (and breathe a collective sigh of relief as High Tide’s air conditioning hits them full-force) with their heads bowed down.
He takes them into the drawing room, and they wait in an awkward silence as he goes to fetch his lord and lady, with Sunfyre providing the entertainment by ambling around the room, sniffing the carpet curiously and knocking his head against the many pieces of furniture, as well as Aemond’s legs.
The doors to the drawing room open once more and the bewildered look on his aunt’s face as she catches sight of them on her couch (and Sunfyre curled up in the fireplace) was worth every hour and every penny they spent trying to get to her.
“Happy birthday?”
His greeting is met with an elbow to the ribs.
“Her birthday isn’t until tomorrow, stupid,” Aemond hisses, cheeks red with… embarrassment? Fury? Exhaustion? All of the above?
“It’s three in the morning,” he mumbles back, rubbing at his sore rib, “doesn’t that make tomorrow today?”
“It’s only the sixth.”
“No, that was yesterday, today is the seventh.”
“No, yesterday was the fifth, which makes today the sixth.”
“Today is the seventh, it says so on my phone.” He whips out his phone and his calendar for good measure.
Aemond takes one look at the screen, then glares at him with his one good eye.
“Apparently,” his little brother begins with gritted teeth, “you can’t read because that clearly says the sixth of July,” he huffs, turning the phone back in Aegon’s direction.
Oh.
It is the sixth of July.
“So it’s not Auntie’s birthday today?” He has to ask, because if he could get today’s dates mixed up, then maybe he got their aunt’s birthdate mixed up as well.
Helaena answers on behalf of Aemond, shaking her head solemnly as she allows her newly acquired arachnid to crawl up her face.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” their aunt finally butts in, readjusting the shoulder of her robe as she makes her way towards them. “It is way past all of your bedtimes,” she continues, gently pushing at his and Aemond’s backs to guide them out of the drawing room.
“Hello, Uncle Corlys,” he hears Helaena whisper behind him as Rhaenys continues to usher them down the corridor. “I made a friend today.” Was she really talking about her spider?
“I can see that, lassie,” Corlys answers in his deep baritone, “does your friend have a name?”
“It does not want a name, so I did not give it one.”
“A fine choice, Princess.”
“Since you arrived on such short notice,” Rhaenys declares, “you’ll have to put up with the unfurnished guest rooms for now.”
“As long as there’s a bed in there, I don’t give a fuck,” Aegon sighs, shoulders dropping at the thought of sleeping on a mattress, but tenses immediately after the words are out of his mouth.
If you’re going to hit me, please do it on the other side, Aegon thinks.
Instead, Rhaenys rolls her eyes before opening the door and gesturing the three of them to enter.
“I know you’re probably unused to sharing a bed with two other bodies, but we need to air out the other guest rooms before anyone could sleep in them, so Daemon’s room will have to do,” she tells them, arms crossed at her chest and her hip propped up against a nearby table.
“Daemon has his own room here?” Aemond asked, eye wide in disbelief and glinting in amazement.
“Unfortunately,” Lord Corlys chuckles from behind his wife. “Don’t be surprised if you hear the screeches of Caraxes in a few hours, he’s a frequent visitor here at High Tide.”
“Far too often, if you ask me,” Rhaenys mutters under her breath.
“But you all should get some rest,” Corlys continues, which has their aunt nodding in agreement, “traveling all this way without a guide is no easy feat. I’m surprised you didn’t come on dragonback.”
“Speaking of,” Aegon pipes up, “I think Sunfyre has made himself in one of your fireplaces.”
“We saw.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed,” Rhaenys huffs, pushing herself off the table and making her way out of the room. “I’ll have a maid come by with clean sleeping clothes and toothbrushes, and we’ll discuss this all in the morning.”
“Yes, velma ,” Aemond says for them all. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
When the maids bring the clean clothes and they’ve all brushed their teeth in the en-suite bathroom and tucked themselves under the covers of the king-sized bed, Aegon allows himself to breathe.
He falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow, and it’s the best night of sleep Aegon’s had in a while.