𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 | 𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧.

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

«The thing about rich people—especially, men—is that they are always sure that they know better. About everything, about everyone. It doesn't necessarily mean they are bad—sometimes, it is a good person with a kind heart—but it undeniably shows how truly spoiled they are. How little they know about life. Playing with such people is easy. And to you, my descendants, I trust to use them like chess. Targaryens, Lannisters: it doesn't matter. Fool them. Trick them. And remember: it is their fault for being so self-centred, so naive, for falling on your lies. Am I making myself clear?».

— From Drusilla Tyrell's memoirs.

•

Aegon's first instinct as he hears news about the death of the king is to run. To run as far as he can, while no one notices him, until he will stop feeling the deadly claws of his mother and grandfather on his neck.

It is Drusilla who stops him.

Not exactly stops, but it is the state of hers that makes him stop.

Because she sits in front of his chambers, face hidden in her legs, all alone, and Aegon genuinely—he didn't know he even has a capacity to feel like this—feels bad for her. Because mother, grandfather and Aemond left, all in different directions, leaving her completely alone, and, well, Aegon can't do the same.

After all, she helps him so much. The first person to believe him and in him, for his whole life. How can he be ungrateful?

'Hey, Silla. Are you okay?'

She raises her head slowly, and to his surprise there are no tears, though he heard from mother that Drusilla, in fact, had a terrible panic, when Viserys died in her presence. Must be from shock or memories about her dead friend or whatever.

'Hey, Aegon,' she smiles tensely.

She doesn't answer his question, and Aegon sits down on her right, sighing.

'Are you mourning our old man? You shouldn't really. He was an asshole. Never really understand how the fuck he survived for so long.'

It is true. Once, as a kid, Aegon tried to reach his father, always seeking for attention, but quickly enough he stopped. Mother was wrong, being his final heir never meant to deserve his love, no matter what others said.

Heir or not, for Viserys, Aegon was a mistake and disappointment. A proof of his own cowardice. A living humanization of his wrongs.

'Are you running away, Aegon?' Drusilla asks suddenly, and Aegon chokes on the air, surprised. 'Aegon. I think we both know each other long enough for understanding each other from half of a sentence, hm?'

She sounds... Pacific. Aegon doesn't remember had she ever sound so quiet and calm before, but it is something new.

'I don't want to become the king,' he admits. 'I don't want to live like Viserys, doing whatever the fuck Council tells me to do. They already took away my youth and freedom, chaining me with fucking marriage and kids I had never wanted to have. I can't allow them to take even more of me.'

Drusilla finds his hand, squeezing it tightly. Her head falls on his shoulder, and she closes her eyes. Aegon finds himself mirroring this action, his own head falling on the crown of her hair.

'Aegon, what if I help you? To escape that?'

'To run away?'

'No. No, to stay here, but without becoming the King. Continue to live like this, but maybe even more freely than before.'

He snorts.

'Drusilla, I think you don't understand...'

'Aegon,' she speaks over him, 'I don't think you understand that running away means the death for you. Without money, hiding away, Aegon, how will you survive? Despite having a terrible childhood, you were always spoiled. You had an enormous amount of money. Servants for cooking and cleaning. You know nothing about the life outside these walls. Aegon, you will not survive it.'