Chapter Text
Aegon was dying.
That was the first thing he understood. The wine he had drunk did not contain the usual sweetness of his beloved Arbor red. Poison, he was sure of it. His councillors would call him paranoid. Your enemies are dead, they’d tell him.
He at first had chalked it up to a particularly tiring council meeting. The arduous stress of sentencing your nephews ear to be cut off would surely put a rather horrible taste into one’s mouth.
But the sharp taste persisted. And then came the pain. An agonising hurt overwhelmed his body. It started at his mouth, his throat slowly closing up which caused Aegon to take deep breaths. Though that hardly stopped the panic that clawed its way up his throat.
The pain then travelled through the rest of his body. Its roots burrowing itself deep under Aegons skin. Each new area they discovered helped to render him paralyzed.
He tried to call for help. Lifting his hands up, he banged on the side of the carriage and shouted out for help. But the poison was far too clever to let Aegon get off that easy. His movements were sluggish and his voice slurred, meaning that no one but Aegon himself would realize of his impending death.
Well, it was that or the driver did hear him but ignored his cries for help. Perhaps everyone was in on this little plot. Aegon realised in that moment the consequences of his actions. He could have been nicer. Or he could’ve cut off his councillors heads and started anew.
Either way, Aegon was truly and utterly fucked.
Once the poison had made its way through his entire body, Aegon found himself slumping onto the floor. He fell in such an un-kingly way that he felt his dignity slipping away. He laid on his back, eyes stuck looking at the disastrous ingravings that covered the ceiling.
A low groan came out of his mouth. Aegon was utterly helpless. He must’ve looked a lot like his father in his last moments, for once Aegon could understand what pain he must’ve gone through. For once, he truly was his fathers son.
They say your whole life flashes before your eyes as you die.
Aegon was no exception to this; his earliest memories of his mother flowed into his brain. It was before he was able to screw things up and she didn’t look at him like he was a disappointment. He’d always thought his mother most beautiful when she smiled. Though it was such a rare occasion that he’d treasured those memories dearly. She was a lot younger then and would hardly let anyone else hold him.
The scene changed again; His childhood and how it had felt restricted. Once his mother had birthed Heleana and Aemond, he soon became ignored and pushed aside for his more favourable siblings. He didn’t possess the natural quietness or princely nature that his mother had wanted. Instead he was loud and boisterous and was more fond of lying in bed all day than learning about history.
Growing up, Aegon had found a sort of comfort to tease Aemond. He was too quiet, never wanting to join in his mishaps. Or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t have a dragon for the first part of his life. It was such an easy way for Aegon to try and get a reaction out of Aemond.
He had loved his brother, but when the war broke out his brother changed. Or maybe he just showed a side to him that he had kept concealed. He was bloodthirsty, itching for a war. And that ambition got him killed.
Aegon found Heleana to be even stranger then their younger brother. She would speak in riddles and rarely enjoyed nor seeked out Aegons company. When his mother had told him he was to marry Heleana, he had been furious. Why her? His weird little sister who had never once pretended to seem like she enjoyed his company.
But their marriage wasn’t all bad. They’d found a way to get along. It was never quite love, but certainly a respect for one another. She’d filled their shared chamber with many sorts of bugs and once even took the time to tell Aegon all about them.
He knew he wasn’t a good husband. Who could be with a father who never spoke to him and a mother who scowled ever time he entered a room? The pressure his mother and grandfather had put on him to ensure his marriage would be successful had caused him to defy them at any time he wanted.
Heleana rarely wanted to lay with him. Well, neither did Aegon. It was the first time he’d admitted that to himself, as he lay dying. There was no love there and certainly no pleasure. So Aegon would visit the brothels whenever he pleased and Heleana would ignore this. It was rather genius, Aegon had always thought. His mother had slapped him many times as he came back drunk early into the red jeep. Going on and on about how he shamed Heleana and their family. But why should she understand? She wasn’t forced to marry her fucking brother.
The one thing Aegon did not do wrong in his marriage was to secure his heir. He remembered his twins birth rather fondly. Heleana had announced suddenly in the night that the babes were coming. Aegon, still hungover from the night before had leapt up, stumbling to the door and shouting for a maester. He’d left her too it and locked himself in one of the empty rooms in the keep and drunk until he passed out. Aegon wouldn’t lie in his final moments; he was scared shitless.
But all the fear left him once he gazed upon his children’s faces. They were so tiny. His mother, in such a soft voice that Aegon had thought impossible had told him that the boy had six fingers on one hand and six toes on each foot. But Aegon did not care. Heleana spoke to him, their names would be Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Perfect, he’d thought.
Their other son Maelor had come a few years later and Aegon felt just as much love and devotion as he did the first time. His children loved him, and he loved them in return. They would be the one good thing that Aegon could say with absolute certainty that he had done right.
Until his bitch of a half sister had ruined it.
He remembered then, the minute he’d heard the king had died. At first he’d wanted no part in his mothers schemes. But she had told him that his father had changed his mind and chosen him. But Ser Criston Cole had been the one to persuade him fully. He’d placed his hands on his shoulders hard and told him what would happen should Rhaenyra ascend the throne.
“She will kill you and your siblings. And don’t think she’d let your children live. As long as they are alive they serve as a threat.” Cole had said.
What Aegon should do had never been so jarringly obvious. What father would risk the death of his siblings? The death of his wife? The death of his children?
In that moment Aegon had become the person his mother wanted him to be, even if only for that moment. To ensure the survival of his family, he became king.
And so the dance begun.
In the end, it was not a risk he should have taken. Blood was spilt. So much blood that in the darkest hour of the night, Aegon was sometimes shudder at his foolish decision.
He’d lost his sons. Brutally murdered in ways that Aegon had thought impossible for someone to even think of. Why did Rhaenyra have to deem herself more important than the laws that had been in place years long before her?
Everything that Aegon had done was necessary. That was what he told himself.
Begrudgingly, he had to see Rhaenyras side. They’d both lost people. Far too many. Was a crown worth the price of that many children?
The picture of Heleana, dead on the ground outside Maegors holdfast, her pale body, skewered by the spikes re-entered his mind. Anger once again filled his body. She’d only jumped due to Rhaenyras actions.
Aegon had no choice but to execute Rhaenyra. She’d stolen his throne, murdered his children, destroyed his legacy. Sunfyre deserved to do it. He’d suffered so much. Her death was only due to her own actions.
Her actions were her own downfall, he’d repeat to himself.
In shuddering breaths, Aegon knew he was not to blame. It was Rhaenyras fault. Darkness started to cloud Aegons eyes.
There is a moment, once you’re hanging more on the side of the dead than the living when you become at peace. The panic that had engulfed Aegon for minutes turned into something calmer.
A morbid curiosity it was. For what awaited him on the other side. A respite from the war and conflict that had surrounded him for so long he had forgotten what it was like to live in peace.
He could only hope the dead would not hold onto their grudges. But he knew he would. The people that betrayed him would never see peace, he’d made sure of that.
With hatred in his heart and loathing in his head, Aegon took his last breath and died.
What a pathetic fucking life. He could only hope he’d do better, live longer if he was given the chance to do it all over again.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Aegon opened his eyes. Confusion took over his brain. He died, didn’t he?
But for the first time since him and Sunfyre had fallen at Rooks Rest, his body did not ache. He stretched out his arms, the movement coming easy to him.
All around him was darkness. At first Aegon thought he had gone blind, but he was able to see his hand in front of him; that gave him some relief.
“Hello, is anyone there?” He called out.
But the sound echoed for what seemed to be miles and miles. No one replied, only a thick silence that gave Aegon goosebumps all over his body.
He stood up, feeling oddly agile.
A terrifying thought filled his brain. Was this it for the rest of his life? A never ending hell of darkness? Surely not. He didn’t deserve this. Maybe he hadn’t been the best father, husband or king but he had truly tried his best.
So Aegon decided to walk. His situation could not get any worse. Between the option to stay where he was or try to get out, the answer was glaringly obvious.
Time moved strangely in this place. He felt that he’d been walking for hours and still nothing changed. There wasn’t any way for him to tell how far he’d walked. But this pit would have to stop at some point, Aegon was sure.
After what Aegon decided must have been a couple of hours, he sat down to have a rest. It was utterly boring, to be trapped in an unfamiliar place with nothing to do and no one to talk to.
It gave a lot of time for Aegon to think. He resented Rhaenyra for fighting him. He resented his councillors for betraying him. And he resented himself for not thinking before drinking his wine.
He huffed out and laid back across the floor. The silence had become so quiet that it was almost as if his ears were ringing. Aegon hated the silence, he always had. It usually meant that someone was disappointed at him (normally his mother).
To break the silence, Aegon decided to scream as loud as he could. But still, no reply nor reaction to prove to Aegon that he wasn’t entirely alone in this place.
In this moment, Aegon wished he had payed enough attention to the septon and his religious studies that his mother had forced him to go to as a boy. But he remembered enough from the teachings. This was not the afterlife he had been promised. There were no feasts and certainly no one else to celebrate with. Perhaps he may be in one of the seven hells instead.
Aegon chose to banish this thought immediately. He had not done anything wrong, so why would he be punished?
His hope overruled his pessimism, so he got to his feet and started to walk again. Aegon vowed to himself that he wouldn’t stop until he reached some form of life.
He walked, and walked. It felt like days went by before anything changed.
After what Aegon presumed to be 5 days, in the distance, he spotted something. He walked faster, his heart thumped in anticipation. As he got closer, the shape started to become clearer.
A plinth?
He walked up to his and stroked his hands across the wooden top. His name was carved in, words that glowed as his hand crossed over it. But there was more under it, covered by a thick amount of dust. Aegon quickly rubbed away the dust. But once he read what it said, his blood went cold.
Aegon II Targaryen
The Usurper
Aegon jumped back. He huffed out, searching around the darkness.
“What sort of trick is this?” He shouted out.
His eyes scanned around him, looking for any sign of life. Anyone who made such a cruel jest deserved to be punished, even if they were in a desolate place such as this.
A loud, booming voice suddenly spoke making Aegon flinch. “You’ve failed us Aegon.” It was a female speaking, and he thought the voice sounded familiar.
“Who are you?” He called out, hoping they would answer. He tried to be brave and show no fear, but the words came out shaky.
The voice seemed to be coming from in front of him. He heard the footsteps before he saw her. Her silver hair in a braid behind her back. She wore her armour with a deep red outfit on behind that. It was what she wore before Aegon had ordered her death. Her face scarred from dragon fire. He hoped his face hadn’t looked as ugly as hers did. No wonder he had been poisoned if he had.
Fuck.
“What, you don’t recognise your own sister?”
Rhaenyra kept walking until she stood right in front of Aegon. Her face was stoic, unyielding in showing him any form of emotion.
“I’m sorry.” He was not sorry, at all.
She scoffed, seeing right through his pathetic lie. “No you’re not.”
She was right, he wasn’t truly sorry. But Aegon was desperate. He didn’t want to upset her further in fear she would leave him in this place alone.
“Where are we?” Aegon responded, trying to change the conversation away from her obvious anger.
“We’re dead. But the Gods aren’t done with you. You failed Aegon. You have caused the fall of our house.”
Her words cut Aegon deep in his gut. He stared in her face with confusion. How could it all be his fault? He’d only done what he was told. Maybe his sister had gone mad down here, rambling like a fool. She would’ve been down here for months by herself. That would give anyone reason enough to go mad.
“What?” He said, failing to think of anything substantial he could possibly say.
“It was my destiny to rule Aegon. My father told me long ago.”
Rhaenyra paused, clearly giving Aegon time to speak up, to argue with her. But Aegon could do nothing but look at her dumbfounded.
So she went on, “It was in Aegons dream, a song of ice and fire. It’s my line that makes sure this happens, so Westeros survives. But you and your fucking mother could not leave things alone. Everyone will die now, because of you.”
She’d stepped closer to him in all of her talking, angrily pointing at him as she did. Aegon tried to get away but he could not get his body to back away.
“That’s not true. My mother said our father changed his mind. In his dying breaths he stated that i should be king.” He spoke up, standing straight, making sure he looked confident in what he was saying. Though there was always a part of him that didn’t believe it.
Rhaenyra laughed coldly. “Do you really think he did? He hated you. Your mother and grandfather schemed of it from the day you were born. To steal my birthright.”
Aegon felt his stomach drop. It made sense, he admitted. His father never spoke to him, never asked about him. He’d grown up in his half-sisters shadow. Rhaenyra this and Rhaenyra that. Every time they would feast as a family, his father never failed to bring up her name.
“Do you want to know what will happen, because of you? Your daughter will die. She’ll be thrown out the window, just like her mother.”
Not Jaehaera. She didn’t deserve that fate. They say a parent shouldn’t have a favourite child, but Aegon couldn’t help but favour his daughter slightly more. He’d heard the other men at court supply rumours of her, that she was simple-minded and acted like a babe despite her being 8 years of age. But not to Aegon. She was a sweet child, who he always managed to make laugh. Sure, perhaps she was not as bright as her twin but she made up in that for her energy. They’d spent countless hours chasing each other around the red keep.
The thought of her being alone in this castle of vipers made him feel sick. People would take advantage of her. He’d wept enough once he’d heard of Helaenas fate. It was such a cruel end, one that neither his wife or daughter deserved.
“I-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” He spoke, truly meaning it this time.
Rhaenyra clearly didn’t care for his apology. Her face moved into a scowl, having a rather disgusted look on her face.
She ignored the apology and carried on speaking. “The Gods are merciful for once Aegon. They won’t let everyone die. And they need you to stop it.”
“That seems like a lot of responsibility.”
“It is. But the dance cannot happen Aegon. Do you understand me?”
Aegon thought back to the bloodshed that had been caused. If he went back, maybe he could stop his children being murdered, stop his wife from throwing herself out that window.
Aegon quickly nodded. “Yes of course i do. But why me? You should change things, you’re more suited for it. I’ll probably just screw things up.”
It was the kindest thing he had said to his sister.
Rhaenyra offered him a small smile. “That is not my destiny Aegon. But it is yours. The Gods have chosen you, for whatever reason. You cannot fail.”
Aegon thought it sounded rather good. Something that he was meant for. For once he wasn’t being looked down upon or viewed as a disappointment. No, this time he was needed.
“So how will this work?” Aegon asked her.
“Choose a point, any point in your life that might work. Only you can make this decision.”
“When father died. I tried to hide and run away, instead i could fly to you on Sunfyre. I’ll try and come to you, i promise” He felt proud of himself for coming up with such a smart plan.
Rhaenyra sharply looked at him then, as if trying to gage if he was telling the truth. “I believe you. Don’t disappoint us.”
“I won’t. Send me back, or whatever you need to do.”
“Good luck.”
Rhaenyra gave him a hard push, which caused Aegon to fall back. He could feel himself scream and shut his eyes in fear of the impact of him hitting the floor.
But the impact never came. Instead of the cold hard floor bashing his head, the darkness enveloped him.
He could do this, he was sure of it. All he would need to do is convince the realm Rhaenyra should rule. And stop his mother and grandfather. And stop Aemond from going absolutely psycho again. And convince Rhaenyra that he wanted her to be Queen.
How hard could it be?