From Low Born to King

Chapter Twenty-One: History

(Song: Kill Them All)
Arthur

"I would recommend putting this on," Arthur states, handing Rhaegar a small wooden box. He opens the box, Aegon leaning in to get a closer look. "What is it?" The prince asks, taking out the rounded wooden stick.
"Kohl. It's a type of paint you outline your eyes with. It helps block out most of the harsh sunlight, especially in Dorne," he explains. "Will you need help putting it on?"

Both Targaryens nod. Arthur does Aegon's eyes first with a steady hand in front of a mirror. "Just to let you know, this stuff is not waterproof, people are still working out a recipe for one currently. So, if you cry or rub your eyes, you will stain your skin."
"Noted. Thank you, Arthur," the prince smiles.
"Anytime," he smiles back.

Heart racing, he does Rhaegar's eyes, the black kohl really bringing out the purple in his eyes. This is the closest he has ever gotten to Rhaegar in general. The king smiles at him in a friendly way, nearly making Arthur's hand slip. Luckily, he finishes easily.
"There..." he does his last, adding only one layer to his since he is used to the intense light.

"Interesting," Rhaegar smiles, looking at his reflection in the mirror. "Huh, it also brings out the purple in Aegon's eyes as well. But what is the point of this.." he motions with his finger at the sharp line on the corners of each eye. "Mainly for design," Arthur explains, closing the small box and putting it away. "And so we don't look like raccoons or sleep deprived," he jokes.

Rhaegar laughs at that. Aegon laughs a little as well.
"We look like exotic street performers. All we are missing is the beads and feathers in our hair," Aegon muses. "Great, now you're making me want to perform on the streets again," his father ruffles his hair and stands up.
***
There would still be an hour or so before the ship is ready to set sail for Starfall, so Aegon spends his time in the library for the first time since he ran away.
He finds the Targaryen Family Tree book and turns to the last page he was on.
"Prince Rhaegar marries Princess Elia Martell in King's Landing," he reads quietly.

"Yes, but for alliance reasons," Rhaegar answers sadly, startling his son. Aegon jolts, nearly dropping the book. "Forgive me, I..." the prince trails off when Rhaegar holds his hand up, silencing him. "There is a lot you need to know, Jon. Sit down, we still have time before we get on the boat."
Reluctantly, Aegon does so, setting the book down. Rhaegar sits across from him, pain clear in his eyes.

"My father—your grandfather—was King Aerys Targaryen the Second, also known more famously as the Mad King," he starts, flipping to the page where his portrait is. He looks like a more mentally unstable version of Rhaegar, but older, with long fingernails and matted silver hair.
"My mother was Queen Rhaella Targaryen, sister/wife to Aerys. I was the eldest, their crown prince. After many stillbirths, infant deaths, and miscarriages, Rhaella gave birth to my younger brother, your deceased uncle Viserys. But by then, my father was already becoming more unstable, and I planned to overthrow him..." Aegon listens intently, not realizing Arthur is listening in at the doorway as well a few isles down.

"With a seventeen year age gap between Viserys and I, Rhaella was pregnant with a girl. Daenerys, she would have been called, had she lived. Since Daenerys wasn't even born yet, my father ordered some of our men to find me a suitable bride. Princess Elia Martell of Dorne was chosen, she was beautiful, but I didn't love her. She had given me two children, Princess Rhaenys, and Prince Aegon, both half Targaryen and Dornish. I wanted a third child, who I would have named Visenya if it was a girl, but the Maesters said Elia was weak, Aegon's birth had nearly killed her," he whispers, the candlelight giving his eyes and the kohl a haunting glow.

"Why did you want a third child?" Aegon asks.
"Prophecy," is all Rhaegar says. "The dragon must have three heads, there must be one more..." Aegon shudders at the cryptic message. "At that point, I had annulled my marriage with Elia and had met your mother Lyanna. I wasn't here when Elia and the children had died. Tywin Lannister had ordered his men to storm the Red Keep and kill them. Rhaenys was dragged out from under my bed, kicking and screaming, then stabbed well over twenty times. Aegon was ripped away from Elia and had his head dashed against a wall, over and over until he was unrecognizable. With Aegon's blood and brains still on his hands, Tywin's soldier The Mountain assaulted Elia, then crushed her head. Now do you see why I worry about you so much?" He asks gently.

Aegon stares at his father, almost wishing he hadn't told him all of this. "Then..." Aegon almost chokes out, "why name me Aegon? Was I some replacement for that babe?"
Again, Rhaegar looks pained to even speak this.
"A rash decision, I suppose. The name Jaehaerys probably would have fit you better. But know this, Aegon," he gets up, and walks over to his only living child. "Your half-siblings' stories ended long ago. They're dead, gone, and there is nothing I can do about it. But you are still alive, your heart still beats, and air still fills your lungs. At the end of the day, you are the heir to the throne, and I love you so much."

He hugs Aegon tightly, trembling with sobs. "Don't you dare leave me again," he rasps. "I won't," Aegon murmurs, clutching Rhaegar's light clothing. "I won't, father. Not again." With a nod, Rhaegar lets go, the kohl running down his cheeks in thick lines like ink.
He laughs despite his tears. "Looks like Arthur was right, this isn't waterproof," he jokes, then kisses Aegon on the forehead. "We should leave," he sighs, wiping the kohl from his cheeks.