Devotion (GOT Fanfic)

Chapter V

Act III of Devotion: Liberty

Chapter V: Haunting Shadows

'There had come a time in my family where the past had dwelled onto our shoulders for too long - our existence watered by the spring of regret, pain and questions of what if it had been. My mother had spoken of her regrets ever so rarely, as though it was a means to keep us away from the reality of growing older. I remember though, one night when there was no distance between the two of us but the merry drink of Dornish reds. My mother was not fond of drinking to the point of stupor, but that night she had done so. My mother the queen had become a penchant fountain, flowing over and over. Telling the regrets and pains she had never uttered to any of her children, claiming it was not our burden to carry. 

 Her words slurred at the names of my younger siblings who have sadly departed before their time. Caerys dying as she had been born. Baelor passing after ten moons. Maegelle being consumed by illness. Jacarys passing soon after his birth. Baelon dying from his harsh position in the womb, suffocating after days of laboring and nearly causing my mother's death. My mother remembered each and every detail. It had been overwhelming. But I had listened. I kept my mouth shut and allowed her to flow seamlessly the aches she had held inside.

Each and every time they had lost a child, my mother wept bitterly over and over for days in her confinement. Until she was numb, until her health failed her. She would turn everyone way in this time. Not even the royal children were allowed in. I bearly remembered this, the success of aunt Elia's distractions giving us reprieve. As the candle's wax furthered into its ruined, my mother pierced her lips into a line and reminisced about our father's stubbornness. My father at each occasion refused to leave her side, no matter how much she hit him. How much she screamd. How much she cried. How much she turned him away. He stayed. Even at the foot of the door, every day, he would come to visit her. 

  The kingdoms no longer mattered. If it was for my mother, my father left behind everything. My father held my mother, cradling her into his arms as though she had been but a small child. Day and night,  my father Rhaegar watched over her. The only one he trusted to keep her sane in this time was my uncle Oberyn, who despite his hatred for my father, had been the one who had forced my father to rest. My mother said she had been thankful for my father and my uncle Oberyn. That there was two men who had loved her truly, without asking anything. 

But through bitter tears, my mother whispered with her head bowed that she was cursed. She had been cursed. The seer of Nimerod had told her so. I am not entirely certain if such a thing truly exist. Seven only knows. But my mother believed the seer. And she knows truly that she had been cursed and along with her, the family too. Had she succeeded in giving Aegon a love match, then perhaps it would have been easier. If she had not forced Daemon to wed, then he and his poor wife would not suffer. If she had loved Rhaenyra more with her actions, then perhaps she would not be doing things that hurt her. If she had not let Visenya go to Casterly Rock, she would not have been gone.

My mother's Dornish red was marred with her tears as the night ended. And soon enough, her body shook and dropped into a deep slumber. I carried her off to her chambers, where my father had been waiting. As I bid my father goodbye, my mother groaned from her slumber and whispered, "Maekar, whatever I said....forget it." 

 My father looked puzzled  and confused, I could feel  that he too wanted to say something. But I shrugged it off, reassuring him that my mother's words were merely ones of a woman who had been too much into the drink. I do not know if my father believed me, but he had let me go. I pondered about it as I left their chambers and went into my own.  I tried to go to my bed and heed slumber to come to me. But it did not. And I could not forget. Not even after all this time. It had in a way become my own haunting shadow, as it had been with my mother. I carry this burden too. 

Mother, my beloved Mother. If we should see each other again - I am sorry. I cannot forget it.  For now the world knows too, the truth.  The truth we could never say. But after all that we had been through, for all that we had lost and suffered, the lies that had become written as truth by those who had become victors - I had to write it all. For now, the world carries our burden too. The world that sees this truth carries haunting shadows. Until the end of their days.

And my mother mayhaps be correct. 

We are cursed. 

We may have been born into fire.

But fire still burns.

And endlessly destroys.'

- Maester Maekar; Chapter VI of the White Queen

IT HAD BEEN SO COLD WHEN THE SUDDEN DOWNPOUR CAME THAT TODAY. The gods had not given her their favor. Not least when she had been of ill constitution when she had gathered herself at Storm's End-with her sister Cersei's family all those years ago. Leila Lannister could make out the way the rain poured onto pelted glass, shattering on the battered ground. The fierce cold blessed the Stormlands with a brisk wind from the Rainwood. Such time had passed. Such time had been the dried ink that sprawled across forgotten tomes.

And yet, she remembered every detail. Every moment that led to it all. The violent screaming matches between father and daughter The insistence of a crown prince whose hands wore his heart on his sleeve for the first time in his entire life. The tears that bellowed across her niece's face as her father forbade her from seeing Aegon again. It had all been a horrid affair, one that had continually haunted her. because it had been a failure. It is because it had been like her own sorrows, ones that had been when she was torn from Oberyn's arms. 

But Leila Lannister wondered if she had fought harder, would she have won against Robert's will? If she had come and moved faster-had asked her father's iron will to bend Robert's. She talked and talked until she had gotten what she came for. Leila could not help but ponder what she could have done differently that day. Fingers clawed through the delicate fabric she was wearing, boots soiled with endless mud raging against the blood of a hunting prey.She could recall the way the wind blew against her muddled hair, strands loosely swaying across her brutally cold face. The way she felt dark blue orbs glaring at her with pain. Such endless agony that Leila could only remember shining like the stars themselves. The shadow of a giant looked down upon her smaller figure, no fear in sight. Rather than only sorrow in the unspoken.

There had only been a few times where Leila Lannister had begged in her life. She had not been used to being as proud as her father. Such an act risked the embarrassment of the family name. Lions do not fall to their knees to inquire.Lions demand, roaring with endless ferocity, that others will break into the position of fealty. Being a servant was better than being prey. And then, her knees gave out to the softening wet earth. Eyes of seafoam broke into waves of endless tears against the shores of her cheeks. She could not help but feel overwhelmed by the pounding pain in her heart, which crushed her like a thousand shards of glass shattering repeatedly.

"I will not have it!" The booming anger that came from the storm in Robert's throat did not frighten Leila. But it had made her feel a pang in her heart, one she had never felt before. 

"Robert, our children are in love." Leila could feel the desperation in her voice. Robert's face grunted in disagreement, turning his back on her. "This is the one chance that our families can find happiness together." Peace! Robert! "

His hand pressed against his hardened jaw. Robert turned back at her. The rain hardened in its downfall. "What do you want me to say, Leila? That I'd consent for my daughter to become a dragon's damn prisoner, his damn broodmare? "

"My son—"

"Your son is still his father's son." The older man hissed at his companion. His stormy blue eyes pierce Leila harshly, like a thousand swords in her face. "I would be a damned fool if I allowed your son to cage my daughter the way your husband did Lyanna!"

She could not speak. Her lips fell into a lowering curl as she looked away from her friend. Leila did not blame Robert for becoming a bitter man. She understood him very well. She truly did. But she could not help herself but feel as though her heart had just been stomped on. It was impossible to be strong under the rain betraying her, just as her heart wept endlessly for the loss that she could not change. But Robert Baratheon was a stubborn man. A man who had grown resentful of life's pleasures. Save his beloved daughter, his beloved fawn. The lord of Storms End would not just let her go. Not especially to the son of the king, whom he had sworn to be the fiend of life itself.

Leila understood. She knew she always had to. Especially since her husband still lived a long and tranquil life after the rebellion. After the rebellion, there was peace anywhere and everywhere but the stag's body and soul. Robert had been betrayed and hurt by people he had called family. He had been humiliated in the eyes of the entire realm. Most of all, he had been haunted by the loss of those pale raven eyes. What little life Robert could have had was robbed from him. The storm lord would rather let his soul drown in the depths of the seven hells than let what he now had be greedily stolen by a dragon. 

They had no animosity toward one another.Not even the war had taken them from each other's good graces. But her children were another thing. He refuses to see the rest of her ever growing family, even her eldest son. Leila bit her lip. All she had truly given him within his body had been her wilderness, fondly green as the lush forests. The fire consumed every bit of her son's life. He was Rhaegar's son through and through. A dragon. As Robert used his strength to hold Leila up to his body, the rain continued to shadow them as he sat her on his horse. Leila could not help but feel numb. She had failed. More tears fell, grief calling her into its arms as Robert came and rode behind her. 

'My Aegon," the queen thought sorrowfully. 'I am so sorry.'

When she had returned to King's Landing, news of Joanna Baratheon's betrothal had been an openly shocking conversation that spread like the brush of the wind. The gossip had made its way through the thick walls of the royal quarters, giving the queen an endless bout of headaches. Leila could remember it, the laughter and ridicule towards her eldest son. Leila had not minded the ridicule directed at her; she had been used to it. The queen, who had not been around, was frivolous beyond comparison. She spends all the royal coffers on her adventures. She was thick-skinned, a lioness who felt no cuts on her fur. Hot hands crawl through the silk sheets, curling into a ball. As a mother, it was different. It was hard to hear the voices ridiculing your cub. How could such a king possibly rule?How can he even do anything? If he was a good king, then Robert Baratheon would have no qualms with such a match-especially to a prince, a future king.

Aegon, in each visit to her, had shown no indication he knew or cared. Sitting across from her on a high stool, the prince gazed at his mother softly. The prince had been, by this point, focused on the expansion of narrow roads across the capital city. It had been an issue for merchants, who had been complaining of trade slowing because of insufficient roads. As busy as he was, Aegon Targaryen knew that, like his father, it was his duty to take good care of his mother. As the eldest son, he needed to do his part.

Even in her sickly state, Leila Lannister knew about his heart. As Leila shifted with sweat battering her fragile figure, she echoed the uncomfortable feeling across her dried lips. Aegon leaned forward, the scroll tucked away on the nearby desk. His hands quickly gathered into the cool pool of water, and the cotton sucked through the infinite fluidity, dipping in and out.Soon enough, the devoted son walked over to his dear mother and placed the cool fabric across her face and her neck before placing it atop her forehead. Leaving a small sigh, Aegon pursed his lips into a flat line.

He knew as much as anyone else that his queenly mother had forced her battered body across the borders to see their uncle Robert. Leila had not told anyone of her plan; she found it unnecessary. This was a mother's longing more than a queen's mission. Her longing to see a genuine smile on her son's face, with the person he loves by his side. It was all she wanted for him. If she could grant him the one thing he deserved in this world, she would be a happy mother. With all her son's pains, all she deserved was relief. With her health lacking, it was all she could give her most precious son.

The heavy flurry of coughs burned her soul endlessly, the king eyeing his wife with arms crossed to his chest. Her fever had still not come down. There has been a sense of worry for everyone. The king had been reluctant to leave her side to attend duties at court functions. Watching his wife's body shaken from the heat of the fever, the paleness of her skin defeated winter's own vengeance. At that moment, she couldn't take food into her body or feel the desire for water to give her life. It did not help that the maesters had said she had suffered a miscarriage, prompted by her already weakened figure to remove from her body the child before she could even know. Grabbing the brush from his mother's vanity, Aegon returned to her side to tend to the neglected stardust hair, carefully letting his fingers gather through the strands, slowly and softly as to not wake her from her rest. 

Eyes heavy, the aged queen could barely open her eyes. But as the distance grew wider, she noticed her beloved son rise from his position beside her and move back towards a small desk and stool.Across the small wooden desk lay the mountain of endless scrolls, lazily stacked upon each other. Her son's fingers dwelled in dried ink, calloused all over from his hand's excessive effort. Bags gathered under his eyes, and his eyes themselves were reddening. The queen wondered how her son had managed to continue to do this without turning mad. 

Each day, repeating the same thing as it was, as it had been. Aegon Targaryen was a stubborn man, a prideful man. But most of all, this mother knows-he is a loving man. He is too dutiful to those he loves that it ruins him. Leila Lannister sighed. Slowly, a little while in the silence, a line appeared across her lips. Leila wondered if one day, it would be his ruin. Silently, eyes closed, she prayed to the gods for relief. If there was more suffering, let it rain upon her. His movements made her eyes soften.He has suffered enough.

"Mother, I can feel your gaze."Aegon says, his gaze fixed on the parchment in front of him.Leila was not surprised. Her son had always perceived things around him too well. "You've been awake for a while?"

"A moment ago." She admits, sighing. Her body's heat had not left her, nor had her tired body's weariness."How long have I been asleep?"

"Three days."

A slight raise of the eyebrow despite the pain and confusion washed upon her. "I do not remember."

Aegon offered her a soft smile. "I suppose it happens when you are too ill to think."

"I am not too ill."

"Mother, the maester said you were near losing your life." The prince informed his mother."You're lucky no raven was sent to Uncle Oberyn. Our family too has been here for a long time. I had only managed to get them away from loitering about this room like a mob. "

Leila pushed her arms against the Myrish silks wrapped around her, her long white hair pooling against the small of her back. "Your uncle Oberyn would make a deal with the seven hells just to resurrect me."

Aegon laughed heartily, nodding. "That he would."

It had taken her aback to hear him laugh like that. It was as though he was a boy again, her son. Before all this, such a tragedy became his entire world. At that moment, Leila felt as though tears would have sprung from her eyes if she had not been so weak. He deserved to always be like this, to smile without trouble. As though there was no duty, no trouble, no burden. The lion had never wanted to be queen. But destiny required her to be. Leila Lannister felt as though she would be happy if Aegon had been just another young man. But she does not know if it is possible for a future king to have joy, the truest joy that can only come from the purest of places.

"Joanna is getting married."Leila whispered under her breath, gazing at her son's sudden frozen figure, staring at the rolled parchment in hand. "To Robb Stark of Winterfell."

His lips drew a flat line. "Jon's eldest cousin?"

"Yes, him."

"I see." 

"I wanted to..." Leila looked down, fumbling with the sheets. "Aegon, my son..."

"You shouldn't have, mother." Aegon put the scroll away, looking at his mother with a worried gaze. "You have gotten ill because of it. There was no need."

"But Joanna-"

"We cannot be together." Aegon's figure hardened, finally hardening his body as he stood, hands resting on the table. His eyes held all the truth, however. Leila lowered her eyes guiltily. "I no longer wish to hear of it." It is all done now. I have come to accept that. It is done. Now, all I wish is that she is happy. "

She did not know what to say to her son.

Silence befall them in that distance.

"I hope you become happy." She breathed into the world softly. "I wish nothing more."

The crown prince did not reply, but the queen knew what her son would say.

'There was no such thing for people like us.'

Leila Lannister knew that he was right.

But she still clung to such a foolish hope.

Until the last moment of her life.

THE HORROR OF THE RED KEEP'S HALL WERE NOT MORE PREVALENT THAN WHEN THE PRINCE OF DRAGONSTONE WAS FAINT AGAINST PRINCE OBERYN'S SHOULDERS. Laila Connington could not move her body as she was passed by her lady Rhaenys, purple eyes shining brutally with burning tears. The sound of wailing from the royal family or the heavy footsteps of the court were all echoes that her ears could not recognize. The queen was crying horribly, her husband the king had been holding her hand, grieving the moment that they now had to face as reality. Heavy breaths came out of her body, her mind telling her body to move. But she could not. Not even when her brother Edrick had passed her by, blood on his hands and eyes filled with uncertainty.

There had never been a moment like this, where the prince of Dragonstone had lost so decidedly upon a joust. Not even once had he had fallen from his magnanimous horse Abraxis. The tales of the gallant prince Aegon, the sixth of that name, had always been spoken with wonders. As though it was the prince who was reviving the great notions of chivalry in their times. And yet, today, the court had seen a different side of the prince. One so willingly desperate and frustrated. One side where he had abandoned all chivalry for the sake of anguish. But the gods were unfavourable to his side of the prince. It was clear to the gods - the prince had abandoned his restraint and the gods punished him. At least, that had been what the court had whispered through the passing night as they waited for the news of the prince's condition. 

But Laila did not believe such things. It had been something different. Something which she cannot say anything about, because it was the prince who was the only one who knew what he was actually doing, what he actually thought. What decision he actually made belonged entirely to him. The prince had a fair fight with the heir of Winterfell in the jousts. Having been there, she could see his sudden hesitation as he firmly closed his visor and had the lance handed onto him. The eagerness to let the heir of Winterfell's lance hit him as he let what he thought take over him and cause him to fall off harshly onto the old mud. All she knew was that she had been the first to stand, running off near the lists and gasp out for air as she found blood. Blood was spilling off his visor and his princely tunic, full of reds and black velvets and silks, were downed with mud and sweat blending with scarlet fever. 

None could sleep, none could even ponder the truth of the reaity that had been hitting them. It hadn't been that much of a worry that the prince of Dragonstone would be hurt. He would have the best care anyone could give. After all, being a prince and of course, the future king - Aegon would have the best attention given to him. However, the fall had been brutal for the prince and the edge of the wooden lance had shattered upon impact and had pierced his upper chest. Blood had been everywhere. Though court whispered in intrigued, many more had been whispering of worry. The king and the queen have many sons. But there was none that could compare to prince Aegon in the sense of duty or experience that should come with being crown prince. It was a worry that should he die, the legacy that had been built around him would come undone and there would be chaos.

Laila dreaded to think of that ever happening. Her lips pierced into a flat line, dry and blue at the cold in the draft of the unlit corners of the halls. Laila had grown up wishing that the outside world would be seen by her very eyes. But her eyes too reflected a wish upon seeing the eldest prince of the realms ever since she had been young. The dashing gaze of the elder prince, filled with countenance and grace as he stood smiling at her brother in the great hall at Griffin's Roost all those years ago. 

When their eyes caught for a moment like a moth attracted to a flame, Laila knew that she wanted to be close to him. The prince had been her idol as a younger child, one who had felt like such a giant of a person to even be walking among human beings. It made her wonder, what could had been like to be someone close to him. Someone who could understand him. Laila felt her heart beat as though it had been a harsh drum, piercing across the inside and breaking through it. She now wondered, how she could live knowing that such a magnanimous man would not be living among them anymore. Tears fell from her eyes, an endless pouring of rain from her cloudy eyes. She could not help but grieve what may come. She prayed to the gods and wished for them to save Aegon, that this was all she asked of them.

That was all she could remember.

"You're awake." Her brother whispered to her.

Her eyes registered the morning light piercing  the glistening color panels of the window. "W...what happened?"

He laughed. "You fell asleep on the cold draft. You were shivering too. I had to bring you up here, so that you could rest appropriately. You could have gotten sick had I been too late."

"It would have been fine. I was willing to wait for good news."

"You do not have to." The chamberlain of the prince expressed, leaning against the bed's frame. "He is awake and well."

The words had made her move her body in a jolt immediately.  "Thank the gods."

"Thank the gods indeed! Our uncle Oberyn had been the one treating the crown prince, the queen vehemently opposed Pycelle coming in the chambers to aid."

The lady of Griffin's Roost sighed. "Of course she would. Our uncle is more trusted by the queen. And of course, our family."

"He did well to make sure the prince was comfortable. There will be discomfort on his shoulder from the wound stiches and his dominant leg, the right one, would need some rest."

"Oh no, his grace must be in grave pain."

Her brother sighed, but then nodded. "For a while, yes. He will need to step away from duty and work for quite a while."

"I see." The somber look passed through her for a moment. She knew that work had meant a great deal to the crown prince. To walk away from it, even for a moment, must feel impossible for him. "What shall happen now?"

"Well first, the remaining festivities will continue. The prince has commanded me to finish his commitments to the lists. There's only two left anyway, its the sparring and another short distance joust. I will handle the sparring and prince Maekar volunteeredfor the short joust. The prince will stay here to rest until his return to Dragonstone within the next few months."

"He will not work till then?"

"Oh he will." He laughs for a moment. "He argued with the king and the queen over the matter. But he caved in. For a few weeks, he will leave the work to prince Maekar, who volunteered."

Laila looked perplexed. "But I thought the prince Maekar had to return to the Citadel?"

"Yes, but his stay has been extended. He is the only one who the crown prince trusts. I am certain he will do very well, though he has no liking for such work."

For a moment the siblings had become silent.

But it was what it was.

It was respite from shadows.

Even for a while.

But mayhaps it would not last.

It never does.

AEGON TARGARYEN HAD NOT BEEN SURE HOW HE HAD ENDED UP SPENDING TIME IN THE DESOLATE SILENCE. His feet glazing across the azure of red and black tiles with glaring dragons gazing back at him viciously. The crown prince could only let out a small sigh as he watched the scenery of the city's festivities grow wildly all around him from afar. Even from where he stood, he could see fluttering banners dancing against the court yard of the tall marvelous peaks of White Hall's figure. The cheering jubilation that bellows from the crowd that gathered around it as the sound of lances broke and the thumping of steel and horse reflected harshly across the city. A faint smile appeared upon his lips, placing a hand at the small of his back.

The aching of his knee had made his standing an issue. However, Aegon knew he could not miss this spectacular moment. From where he stood, the view had been a fascinating eagle's eye. Resting his side against the window's frame, the gold holding his body together at the royal library, the prince could see the banners of a former prince. Maekar's fluttering red dragon across a red field, a tall spear across the back of the shining scarlet. 

It had been so long since Aegon had seen such a sight. It was as if yestermorn when Maekar had been granted his right to his banner, the joy in their father's eyes at hope. The unsettled gaze of their mother as she watched her second son raise from his position, being handed his new shield, with the new banner beaming back at him. Though his brother smiled, he remembered drinking with him that night, where he told him he had not liked it at all. How he wished it was never even made. But it was a tradition, especially of a second son, a second son of a king with lands and holdings. 

"Prince Maekar seems to be swell at jousting." Laila Connington comments as she stood beside him. "My brother never gets unhorsed."

Aegon smiled with beaming pride. "My brother is one in a million. He is good at everything he puts his mind to it. A dashing man, isn't he?"

"Hm...But it is a wonder why a dashing prince joined the Citadel, your grace."

"My brother likes to do as he pleases." Aegon replies gently at her. "He has never been one to stick around at anything for quite very long."

Laila nodded in understanding. "He seems like the type. A heartbreaker too, I feel."

"Yes. A truly dashing one." Aegon agreed vehemently. "He has broken more hearts than lances though!"

Maekar had always been born to be a dazzling knight, a marvel of a prince. But of course, he reveled in the joys and left with the wind of change when joy desolved in with the leaves that blew in autumn in farewell. But Aegon would does not judge his brother for it. He has to live his own life. He had gotten out after all. Still at every visit, his banners are returned to where they were. As though he had never given up his titles and his land when he went to become a maester. The court never forgets. Especially at such events, where Maekar showed his prowess. Aegon heard a resounding cheer when the banner of Lannisport fell, clearing a way for his younger brother's victorious march against their cousin. The sound of satisfaction came from the young crown prince as his hands clapped against the other. Rusty as Maekar had been, he had never lack strength nor wit. 

Turning away from the window, the crown prince slowly made his way at the long maple table, grunting in a bout of pain. He feels reassured that today had been a successful end to a long celebration, the echo of joyous jubilation still followed him toward the inner sanctum of the royal library. Halting for a moment, he made his way to the edge of the table's body and sigh. Aegon cannot help but regret joining the lists yesterday. But as his duty being the eldest son, he had the noble honor to defend his royal sisters with their favor bestowed upon him. As such, he gathered himself to train early regardless of his lack of sleep or rest. He did not know who he was to face, but when he found out - he thought maybe he was letting his own feelings get in the way. Aegon felt shame wash down on him as he reflected upon it more, finally manuevering his body into sitting down. A huff of pain, he could not help but agree with the gods about his punishment. 

Robb Stark stood proudly, Tully hair neatly tied behind his back and blue eyes gazing at him cold like a winter storm in spring. Silver and black tar colored fur surrounded him, as though he had been a direwolf himself. He had arrived a few days later with the Stark, having been held up by the work he had done as lord of Moat Cailin, a gift from his father upon wedding Joanna. Aegon did not expect to see him. After all, Joanna had said that her lord husband would not be able to attend. But sailing to the capital to through White Harbor, he admitted it was wrong for him to not accompany his pregnant wife through the journey. Aegon supposed that his family were afraid to have another Stark in the capital, that is why he was late. But Aegon was certain none would touch him here. It was peace. Regardless of what is between their fathers, their mothers had amicable relationships. Robb was his cousin by marriage. And yet...

Aegon Targaryen could not help but feel as though he had swallowed a bitter bout of skinned wine. Seeing him together with Joanna, seeing them dance across the banquet hall as the minstrals sang the songs he had written for her. The sound of laughter that came from jokes between the two of them. Aegon had used to do that with her. The letters that she had wrote him, full of endearments, the truth that only was known to them. Each word, he could remember them clearly. Each day with her was still vivid in his mind. 

They haunted him as though endless ghosts, inescapable and weary to have him. To capture him. Aegon wished it was all over, he wished he could say it no longer hurt him. But he could not help it. It was true, he was glad that she had married well. This man was smitten with her. He would never dare hurt her. But as he gazed upon his goblet, empty with nothing filling it - he could not help but feel the truth of his heart dwell into the red pools as though it was his own blood removed from him. 

Aegon the crown prince sat without a word, he smiled and he was amicable. A saint that one would associate with everything good and just. But Aegon Targaryen, the man, was human as human gets. He felt pain, he felt jealousy. He felt anger. What he yearned, what he wanted - all those things are those he cannot have. All that had been caged inside was manifested out the cage by the drink. The truth of the man overpowered the wall of his own facades to crumpled. A ripple of an earthquake pulsed through him when he nearly knocked off by the heir of Winterfell atop his horse with the lance. The memories of shame as he revelled in the adrenaline of the drink, not even allowing th voice of reason in. He could see his family's horrified gazes at him. Aegon could see uncle Oberyn telling him to quit the match, as was Joanna stood from her seat, begging him to stop. they all knew he looked as though he was not well enough to continue the match.

The shouts of the crowd confused him, the ringing on his ear shattered him with his head seeming to implode like the sound of heavy drums. As he fell of his horse, the darkness took over him. The prince could not remember the rest of the happenings, but he woke up surrounded by worried maesters and healers, frantic as they gathered his family into the chambers. Groggy, he could not move without pain nor discomfort. But as the tears fell off his mother's eyes graced his cheeks, the crown prince sobered. Comforting his mother as he leaned forward, he reassured her that he would be fine. 

The echo of regret panged heavy across his soul. He had intended to hurt Robb, but he was not at fault. No one was. And now, many are hurt because of him. The prince sighed, feeling the throbbing of head as he leaned backwards. All this time he thought himself a man, but he was just a boy. At such a ripe old age, he was acting like a foolish man. It was improper for him to be like this. To be like a fool. He needed control. He needed to restrain himself. Because it was all over. It was no one's fault. This fate. Aegon the man, he must accept it. He is not just a man. He is a dragon. A lion. He always will be a prince. He will always be a king. And such roles come with duty. A duty to restrain, a duty to serve, a duty to be someone else. The more he forgets, the more he breaks what he had worked so hard for. This must stop.

Aegon had not been certain of what he could do at this time. It would have been easy for him to sit at his desk all day until his wounds healed, or at least have a small desk be made for him as he laid onto rest. However, his mother and father vehemently opposed the idea, thinking that stress would not do well for him. His mother more so worried that he would exhaust himself and put himself into harm's ways. Though he was no longer a boy, he would still be a young one to his mother. The warmth of his mother's hand stayed with him all night, clutching his hands - praying to the gods not to take him away from her reach. His father had been watching over his wife's needs as he sat beside her. The royal brood had vacated the fireplace, eagerly awaiting the waking of their brother.

Aegon had not been certain how long he had stayed in deep sleep, but when he woke tears and cries of joy had rang out around him. His family had been there to welcome him back to the land of the living. Jacaerys too was there, unsure of what to do with himself knowing that his brother had been put in this situation by his own blood relative. It had been hard on his younger brother, Aegon was sure. Jacaerys too was close to Robb Stark, almost seeing him as much as his brother as the rest of the royal princes were. The younger boy had been so distraught, unable to speak much to his brother. But Aegon had reassured him that he had no part in it. Not even Robb did wrong. It had been his own fault for being careless.

Jacaerys looked comforted by what he had heard from his brother. As for the heir of Winterfell, he came and saw the prince immediately once he had found out he had become conscious once again. Begging his mercy, the young lord had told the prince he would never hold up arms again. Aegon wanted to laugh but he did not. The young man was still a young man. As such, he did not want to traumatize him. Immediately turning his attention to him, he gave him clemency. The two of them had talked for quite a bit after, with Aegon inquiring about the health of lord Stark. He could not bring himself to bring up Joanna at the moment. How could he? His own unresolved feelings had ended up causing her hurt too. He had aimed at her husband like a fool, when he shouldn't have. It should not have ended up like this. 

"Your grace, you ought to be careful." He turned around to see the dark hair of Laila Connington coming into view, eyes filled with concern. "It is no good to hurry in pace."

"I do not think that I was too fast, my lady." Aegon blinked, surprised. "Was I too quick? I'm sorry."

"My prince, I am not inclined to say whether or not you were too quick. But I still worry for your condition. My uncle Oberyn had warned you of such movements."

"Yes, yes, I recall." Aegon could not help but let out a small stifled smile as he fanned away her concerns with his left hand. "I think he added that he would cripple me himself if I make him worry again."

"For that to not happen, your grace, I feel as though you must heed warning and be careful."

"This prince is not known for being careful, my lady." The prince of Dragonstone quipped, a cracked smile upon his lips, pointing to his injury. "For no prince would be eagerly foolish in getting hurt like this."

"Your grace was not being foolish." The young Connington girl replied bluntly. "Merely true to your nature. As a man."

"My, what a spit fire you had become! True to your nature as a Connington!"

His lips let out a bellowing laughter, almost falling sideways as he shook his head. For a moment, Laila felt her cheeks turn hot red from the sound of such wonder coming from the prince's lips. That he had noticed as much. But perhaps it just had been too humid in these past few days. It had been more than a few weeks since Aegon had taken a leave of rest from any duty. It had not been easy for Aegon to come up with a thought on how to view lady Connington just yet. When he had met her again a few weeks before, he had not recognized her. The image of a young girl, shyly hiding behind her elder brother's back was something that had remained with him. The same goes with her habit of looking at him and quickly gazing away. 

His mother the queen had removed her from the service of Rhaenys. Aegon had not presumed to discuss it with his mother. He knew better than to argue with her, he had known she means well. Though he had been quite astounded with the decision, it was not uncommon to have a female servant in a prince's household. However, what was astonishing was that his mother had delegated the young woman as his nurse. He had not been sure of her qualifications. He had a maester as well. But his mother hew knew did not trust maesters. It was much better at uncle Oberyn's hands or someone else. Aegon had not been used to it any more. Once upon a time, he had been - as his household was filled to the brim with women as a boy.

It had been tradition. His own father had been cared for by women only as a babe to a young boy. It was deemed natural, to have such warmer natures as a young boy. They groomed his appearance everyday, they took him to play everyday, they eagerly adored him everyday. Of course, under the supervision of his mother. It had been one of lady Tyrell's younger daughters, he had forgotten her name who had first been his governess. But quickly she had been replaced for lady Florant, the wife of the lord Florant himself. She carefully determined his life then, especially the staff that were to be in his household. They were the ones teaching him letters, numbers and even his mannerisms at court. The only male at the time had been family, especially his father who had been the one who had gifted him his first scrolls on Aegon the first. However, once he had turned nine years of age - he had been taken all on his own to Dragonstone to be with a household that was only consisting of male retinue.

It had been bizarre. As he stepped foot in the shores of the small sea port in the cold of autumn dressed in black velvet tunic with pale red trousers , silver cloak made of fox's fur warming him. The prince stood so young and yet older than most of them, with a contorted face viewing a new life that he had now to get accustomed with. Aegon Targaryen was welcomed by soldiers, all men. Cooks, valets, pages, cupbearers - all of them were varying ages of boys and men. He was not given a septa nor a mistress of the household. Rather he was sent a septon to aid him in religious matters and mistress of the household was replaced by a lord of the household, who aided him in managing his household. The maester too was sent, who he recalled, was from Dorne.

Much of his household had been up to his mother's suitable tastes, aiming perfection from the selection of men that she had put forward for approval to the small council. Not once has she been rejected by their his father. Gradually as he had been able to take care of his own household, nothing quite has changed as his tastes often aligned with his mother's liking for merit. The only great change was the fact that he had added a personal guard, forming of women at his own employ commanded by his younger sister Visenya. It hadn't been his intention but seeing the many young girls having to live in the street as orphans, learning to fight to survive - Aegon had wanted to aid in giving them opportunities. Much of them had given themselves to defending him with weapons.

"Your grace is too deep in thought again." The young Connington girl pointed out to him. "Is your grace getting old?"

"Now, my lady, my being old is not the reason." He couldn't help but sigh. "I was merely thinking about life itself. Can't I not do such a thing?"

Laila let out a small grin. "But your grace, isn't it not the old who ponder about life so deeply?"

The prince was taken aback by her quip but then a moment later, he had laughed with her. "Now, you had tied my hands with your response, my lady. Quite witty."

"One learns to be witty when they have nothing to do in castle walls, your grace." Aegon laughs heartily.

Aegon grinned slightly. "Was my lady a hermit, reading along for all her days with ancient scrolls?"

"Is that too bad for your grace?" She questions the prince, raising a brow. "Do men not like women of the letters?"

"Not all men, but certainly some! Including myself."

"Oh? Then, will his grace desire women like me?"

Aegon paused for a moment, thinking it through. Turning back to her, eyes glistening with mischief - he smiled. "Mayhaps, my lady. Do you desire a man like me?"

The young Laila turned away with such redness in her cheeks, even in her ear. "Y-your grace! Such....do not do that! I...I cannot believe you would say such a thing!"

"Has a mirage been broken, my lady?"

"Huh?"

"Do I no longer seem like the prince of Dragonstone to you?" Aegon looks to her intently, leaning back to the chair. "Did it all change?"

She did not respond.

"Did your grace long to hear such a thing?"

"Huh?"

"To not be the prince of Dragonstone any longer?"

Aegon could not help but be stunned and frozen. Immediately, she could read him. It was all so intriguing to him. He thought that she had been a girl living in her own bubble, frozen in time away from the world. But even then, he could not help but realizing that she was there with the world all along, living her life vigorously like the rest.  Edrick did say that his sister had liked read, excessively more so than Aegon himself. She liked to study about animals and plants, which he found interesting.  The girl even debated with him about the works of Septon Barth, opposing in the thoughtful reasons of history. In a way, this young woman he had forgotten had become a comfort these past few days to him. An immediate companion.

When he had first encountered Laila Connington,  she was a meek girl hiding behind lady Elia's skirts full of misty tears blown over her deep dark eyes. It was a shame, especially the dress she had worn had been gifted by his mother - white lace in muslin flattered with fruitful red silk at hem of the skirt fluttering like small flickers of candle light in midnight. It had complimented her well.The royal family had gathered for a hunt near the border of the Stormlands and Dorne.

As the girl was sickly, lord Connington had barely allowed the poor girl from the confines of old ancient Griffin's Roost. And yet, around the royal tent filled with festivities and jolly fondness after a good day's hunt - the young girl had been too petrified to even speak to any of the guests. It was how the memory of the bashful lady of Connington had stuck into his mind, a young meek girl who was too sheltered from the world. 

Quite wrong he was. In fact, he was happy to have been wrong with all his assumptions. In such short time together, he found someone who unerstood him. In this young woman whom he had not met for so long, it stunned him. And yet, he was eager to welcome it. Anything. To not just be a crown or dragon. To just be a man. Once again. To shake it all off even for a day. Because in truth, Aegon truly had no friends. He had his family, but he had no friends. And it plagued him. To not have something as simple as that. As simple as most people already have.

Mayhaps, this was a chance for him. 

He can start here.

He needs to let it all go.

To let all the titles, the past, the present - disappear.

Aegon Targaryen deserves to live in the now. 

Perhaps he could start here,  this day.

Pursing his lips, he sighed.  He then let out a gracious beam. "My lady is perceptive. It is as if you had known me all your life."

"I....I feel the same way, your grace."

"No, just...just call me Aegon." The sheer panic in her eyes, being told such a thing all the sudden. "I know it must be quite a lot but I would prefer it that way."

"Your grace, I am still your servant-"

He shook his head. "No, my lady. You are my friend. And as such, I would like for you to come and address me as my given name. Like a friend would."

Laila Connington did not know what to say, nor did she know how to react. How could she? It was all so sudden, almost like a lightning flashing by at rainy nights. With one thundrous delirum and soon it perishes others into shock with another. Dark eyes staring uncertaintly at the anticipating green orbs, her lips parted and yet nothing would come out. It was new to her, to be called a friend by a prince. Aegon knew perhaps that it had not been easy on her too. 

Though she may be vibrant and vigorous in conversation, Laila had not been allowed quite a lot outside the perimeters of Griffin's Roost, limited to interaction with the servants her parents had surrounded her with to compensate the loss of others. A girl who had been born premature had often had issues with their bodies and Laila was the same. It had only been recently that her condition had even allowed her to be presented at court. All she had known was her own bubble too. Magnificent the bubble may be, it was perhaps just as lonely. To not have a world that you would know, to not have the friends you could share that bubble with.

"I..." Laila pursed her lips, her hands piling with visible sweat. "I...."

"Ah, you do not have to respond right now-"

"If....if your grace will have me."

Aegon felt his heart swell in joy. "My lady,  I am more than eager to have you as my dear friend."

"....Laila."

"Hm?"

"You have...you have allowed me permission to use your name, yo-Aegon..." She swallowed the lump at her throat. "Friends....they allow each other to use birth names, yes?"

He slowly nodded, allowing a smile upon his lips. "Yes, I should like that."

In that moment, something new began.

Aegon Targaryen had been joyous for it.

Eventually, a life began that he would always cherish.

But as he grew older, he wished he had not done so.

For that day cemented her ruin with fate.

For fate had vicious plans for Aegon Targaryen.

LEILA LANNISTER DID NOT KNOW HOW TO FEEL WHEN SHE HAD RECEIVED THE NEWS. Eyes wide open, she had nearly dropped her spiced wine a while before as her hand shook unstoppably. The parchment had long been discarded upon the magnificent pale floor, aching to be returned to the hand of the receiver. And yet, the paper remained awry on the pavement, left untouched by a queen unable to shake the shock away. Jaime had been eager to see his sister, as did his wife and their brother Tyrion - they had not seen the queen in moons since her last trip in Lannisport. The invitation to the yearly gathering at White Hall had delighted the lions, eager to return to the routine of joyous laughter at the years that had passed them by. However, the queen had busied herself in the company of her husband and children, as well as the ridiculous trouts of court and the illustrious Oberyn Martell. But the letter had been a frightening one to receive and the chance of a quiet afternoon filled with wondrous memories flew away with the wind that diverged from the solar they sat from.

Tyrion gazed at his sister, his mismatched orbs following her as he lifting his drink slowly to his lips watching her pace. Mallissa Lannister poured a drink at her husband's goblet carefully as Jaime tensed, eagerly whispering to his wife to pour and soon asked her to stop. Thanking her, Mallissa returned to her seat beside her husband. It had been half an hour now, causing Jaime quite the headache from trying to keep up with his sister. Despite his words earlier, she would not stop. Not that she could hear him, over her whispering overriding his voice. It was to calm herself down, but Jaime found that it would not ever stop.

"How could my son do such a thing so dishonorable?" The voice of the queen grieved with exhasperation. "To dishonor a maiden like this, a Grey girl at that!"

"Leila, my sweet elder sister." Tyrion called out to her, placing his goblet down to the table. "You should stop pacing."

"How can I stop? How? When such humiliating embarrassment plagues my family once again? And to know, my daughter Rhaenyra too had arranged to aid her brother with such a thing." The queenly lioness grasp upon her fingers, nervously moving through her rings as she halted her pace. "It makes me question everything. Have I not been a good mother?"

"Sister, you ought not to think that you failed." Jaime quipped, his voice jolly from merry drink. "Our dearest Daemon is a man. You contributed nothing to his folly."

"I still raised him." Leila sighed, looking down at the floor with glassy green orbs reflecting against the shine of white stone. "I tried my best to ensure something so dishonorable would not happen and now..."

"And now your son is a hooligan who has to pay for his actions." Jaime responded, a cracked smile upon his lips now. Tyrion snorted loudly in response. "You must not treat him like a boy. He is not."

"I agree with our brother here!" Tyrion's voice boomed like a mummer making a voice for a character imagined. "Let the boy die! Be his mother truly now and him be a man!"

Leila gazed at her brothers, eyes weary with exhaustion. Her legs too felt like they were going to dissolve onto the floor from her quick paced walks. Leila slowly made her way onto her seat beside Mallissa who gathered the queen's goblet near her and with care, poured the spiced wine upon it till it was full. The queen let out a weary sigh, feeling such old ancient age come at her young body. It could not be helped. Her duties were always to demand so much of her. It was her duty, to worry too for her family and what this would mean.

"It must be hard on you, dear sister." Mallissa whispered to Leila, watching the queen slouch softly upon the chair's resting back. "You deal with so much work and now such chaos."

"A woman has to deal with such ridiculousness all the time, sister." Leila commented in reply. "I should say the same condolences to you, for you had to marry my foolish brother."

"My, what a compliment dear sister!" Jaime bellowed with booming laughter. "I take pride in my queen complimenting me so generously."

"I cannot imagine how you deal with his ego everyday." Leila whispered to the red haired woman before letting her lips touch the cold metal. "How does one stay married to him for twenty years?"

"By removing the air from the sails, sister." Mallissa replied to the queen, lips turning upwards into a mischevous grin. The queen raised a brow at her sister in law's reply. 

"My, then I chose correctly for my brother." 

The heir of Casterly Rock raised his glass. "Then a boon for you, my queen! For finding a challenging woman to give me an entertaining show."

Though his tone reverbirated with joking, her brother had meant such words. Jaime Lannister had not been eager to contract a marriage following the crowning of his brother in law and his dear sister as queen. In a way, the young knight he had been had been eager to focus on winning jousts at the capital as the master at arms of the Red Keep after his removal from the kingsguard. this he had done for the sake of crowning his sister as queen of love and beauty - a promise he had made the day after she had been anointed as queen of Westeros. He could not bear if she would be humiliated again. But Leila did not want to see him live his life only for such a manner. She wanted him to live his life happily, to have someone by his side to care for him when she would not be around. 

For such years, Jaime Lannister had taken upon himself the burden of being the one who took credit for killing the Mad King. Leila had tried to stop him, to pin it upon the pyromancers who had already been dead. None would be able to say a word of rebuttal. But Jaime would not do so, even if he had the time. Instead, he brought his sister out of the chambers and left her in the care of servants. He had instead let Ned Stark come to him in the throne room, with Jaime's body sitting the Iron Throne wielding a sword full of fresh unimpeded blood. 

He had taken the blame for the crime she had committed. Uttered no word of it ever again, not to justify nor to complain. Rather, Leila found him mocking it all and laughing at such words. The elder sister had wished for the brother to tell the truth but he in all times denied to clean his name. He'd rather her name be removed from the narrative. By all accounts he says, he had killed the pyromancers too and went against the king. He had already been too much of a traitor.  Leila owed Jaime much too many. She had found him to be the truest person to her, one who has never betrayed her or given her any ills. 

The moment she had returned from Dragonstone to face the aftermath of what her husband had done, it was her brother who had been her protector. After all he had seen, after all he suffered - his priority was not himself but her and her children. It was everything to her, it still is everything to her She wanted to protect him, she still does want to wrap her arms around him and force those who judge him away. Even Ned. She wants to give him a world where he can live without anymore pains. 

Thinking of what she could do, Leila had decided that he could not stay in King's Landing permanently any longer. The whispers of courtiers could only last for long. Leila had sent away ladies from her court for gossiping about him. And she could not go any further, lest people be offended and lose loyalty toward her and the crown. As such, Leila had decided to convince her husband to free Jaime from his new position and issue him heir of Casterly Rock once again. At her easing words, Rhaegar granted the request and allowed him to leave. 

But not before Leila had decided to arrange the marriage match for him - to her lady in waiting Mallissa Brax. It was a good match to begin with. A Westerlander, she would not judge him cruelly for who he was. Rather she would understand and even forget about it. She would treat Jaime as he should. With dignified respect not only as a husband but as a human being. 

Even if she does not end up loving her brother, Mallissa would grant her brother peace of mind.  However such a preposition had not been delightful to her brother at the time, rather it had caused him distress as he could not picture himself a husband or a proper heir surving at Casterly Rock. It had taken a year to do so, but Jaime had finally caved to the pressure of his sister's constant requests. As such, a grand wedding at White Hall was prepared by the queen herself, inviting only family and trusted friends. 

She could imagine it had been hard for her brother to adjust all these years to the idea of himself being a lordly husband and father. But now that such a long time had passed, Leila found him much too content in his life now. Her gamble had worked out in the end, though she had not been sure if Mallissa and Jaime found to love each other deeply. They at least have great fondness and respect, much better an alternative to a bitter match.  As such, it had been a happier time.  Especially with a brood of children that he constantly spoke with generous pride about. His son Jason had become a fine young man, knighted by his father after he had settled troubles of the small folk, he was endowed with his father's  fighting prowess and his mother's patience. Jaime's only daughter Rohanne was full of endless gifts of wit from her father and the sharp mind of her mother. Jason had taken after his father and Rohanne after her mother, though it could be said that it had been the Webber's blood that spiralled through young Rohanne with her cunning like the former matriarch of Lannister.

"What do you plan to do with Daemon and the Grey girl?" Mallissa asked her sister in law, which once again made the queen freeze. Leila sighed heavily, placing her half empty goblet upon the table gently. "You cannot let the girl just live in disgrace."

"I already know that, dear Mallissa." The queen pursed her lip, slowly straightening her sitting. "I must force my son to do so. I cannot let this disgrace stand."

"How did could this happen, I wonder?"

"Obviously our Daemon had gotten too greedy." Tyrion rolled his eyes at his elder brother. "The boy wants too much. I think too his friendship with that Yronwood might pose a little more annoyance than we would want."

Jaime's brows furrowed in curiosity. "The ugly one or the bald one?"

"They're both hideous, dear brother." Tyrion smiled slightly, taking another swig of wine. "Though, I must say - I too could join them."

The heir of Casterly Rock laughed. "You brother? Oh, never! For old Yronwood and the young one are far too hideous that even their wives cunts detest them!"

"Jaime!" Mallissa slapped his hand, but her husband and her brother in law laughed even harder. "It is not funny!"

"Oh do let me have the day, wife."

"No! Now do not say that!"

"Ah. What it is to be in love." Tyrion teased the married couple, placing his goblet down. "Are we expecting a third lion from the two of you?"

"Oh gods forbid, another Jaime." Leila faked with an exaggerated reaction. "Oh the world would give humanity no peace!"

Tyrion felt his lungs burst into connundrum as he laughed once more at his elder sister's quips. Leila had wondered when Tyrion had last laughed this loudly. It had been a while since then, since he had last felt such joy brandish his body.  Leila could not help but let her body tense up at the reminder of that day, that day when her brother had been so broken and torn by the lies fed to him as a young man. It was not something he had deserved. It was not something she had forgiven Jaime for either, nor her own father. Because Tyrion had earned his happiness then and more so now. It was taking some time to return, his mourning had been clouded away by his mask. A mask Leila had started to detest over time. Tyrion, his truest self, such as this moment where his heart was open to all - had been so beautiful. And people ignore such a thing.

Instead, they see a monster in her brother. A monster that was not one, for he is just a young man still living to find what could lead him to a change. A change that has yet to come and visit him to give him a new perspective. Leila had wondered what else she could have done then, if she had been there. If Leila had been there, perhaps he would still be married to his wife. Perhaps there would have been no need to have a scandal. Perhaps Tyrion would have someone he loved, someone who perhaps loved him in return. The queen did not know  for all of it would still be uncertain. But Leila believed that it could have been better than this, better than seeing her youngest brother alone and treated with such despicable horror by those around him. Lest of all their father who had not made amends for it. 

Leila had tried much too many ways to free her brother. In such screaming matches with her own father, most had been so full of venomous anger. Full of this desire to even hurt her father. To throw a vase, to speak more hurtful words, to berate him with truth. Leila could do it all for the sake of her youngest brother. But her father was too a prideful man and much too angered upon being told what to do by his own daughter. He was not one to lose. 

Not one to see his plans not come to anything. Leila would not care for it. Tyrion deserved control of his life and at any cost, Leila Lannister would let him have it. She was queen, after all. As she had with Jaime, she too would force it all to happen for Tyrion. Perhaps that too was the reason why her father had fled his position as hand to her husband. Perhaps he could not bear a daughter who disobeyed him and paid no mind to his scheming plans. But once more, the queen did not care. Her family's joy came first. Tyrion to her came first. As long as her lion of a brother would live in his own ways, then there could be no happier state of peace.

"Though dear sister, I should expect then that you would be the second to have a grandchild." Tyrion said. "Oh and I a granduncle twice over. Dearest Joanna will have her child soon as well."

"Oh do not remind me."

Tyrion raised a brow. "Of grey hairs and wrinkles or our dearest Joanna marrying the wrong man?"

"Both." Leila groaned softly, an irritable tension formed within her. "I do not detest having a grandchild, but if this should be the way it would happen - then I do not want it!"

Mallissa nodded. "I agree with you, sister. Should Jason do such a thing, he would have to find a place elsewhere to call home."

"If anyone did such a thing to Rohanne, the young man would see himself at the drainage pipes at Casterly Rock lifeless." Tyrion grinned at his brother. "Am I correct?"

"Quite correct." Jaime exclaimed in response without hesistation. "Though afterwards, the body would be fed to the lions down the caverns."

"Vicious, brother!"

"A Lannister always pays his debts." Jaime grinned back at his brother pridefully. "Handsomely."

"Daemon will marry the girl." Leila sighed, nodding her head. "As soon as possible. I've made up my mind. If she is to have a child, it would not be a bastard."

"My, you fear it?"

"My son already goes through such a pain." Leila whispers, her voice strained with strong emotion. The three knew that Jon Snow had been special to her.  They did not breach the talk further."I would not wish it upon anyone else, with how the people are."

"Then, it seems there must be a wedding before we are to leave." Tyrion laughed, raising his cup high, his small arm blocking the sun. "Ah, how time flies! A long ago, Daemon had been quite a sweet young boy and now he would be a terror to his bride to be as a man!"

Leila frowned. "Do not wish that upon the poor girl, Tyrion."

"Not a wish, sister....Merely a prediction." Mallissa poured more wine on her brother by law's goblet at his insistance. "Well, my guesses are never wrong but there could be a first time for everything, no?"

"That does not sound any better."

"Now now," Jaime corralled his siblings towards giving their attention to him. He smiled at his wife. "Let's toast for a better Daemon, one that would be much more....tamed!"

Mallissa nodded at her husband. "And a good brood of royal children as well."

"That, I shall toast to." Leila laughed, raising her cup upwards and soon enough, her siblings did the same thing.

This was to be her first grandchild. The air in her lungs were relieved from pain. Life coarsed through, she could feel it in the essence of her blood's energy passing through each small fiber of her fragile body. Even if it did not come to them in the means she liked, it was still a blessing. One that she thanks the gods for. Of course, Leila Lannister found happiness in her heart.

But as she drank the already cold wine, she found realization pierce the wonder she had pledged into her bones. Aegon Targaryen, her eldest, would be judged again. Duties denied, duties unfulfilled. 

Unmarried, uninterested, childless.

Leila Lannister knew that the court would be merciless.

There would be no room to breathe.

Like three years ago, it would be another hell for him, this snake's nest.

Her heart broke in pieces.

'Must there be even more suffering?'

The gods whispered in her head, 'Yes.'

A LONG TIME AGO, JACAERYS HAD NOT BEEN SURE WHO HE TRULY WAS. The words of others had been etched into his entire being a labourous map filled with so much confusion, directions which he could not understand or comprehend. As a child, the queen, whom he had always regarded as his mother, had been overprotective of him. She had always made sure to include him in everything the royal children do. When his siblings had started to learn their letters, she insisted that they be taught under the same instructor. When his siblings had gone hunting with their father, Jacaerys too is welcomed. He had not been segregated away, as other bastards had been. In his family's eyes, he had been one of them. And Jacaerys felt the same. He felt at home.

Each memory growing up had been cherished by him dearly. He could remember very well how his mother had smiled upon him at each good he had done. It had always been warm, the way she had smiled. It had been almost like the sun had been eager to bless him with the light of day every morn he arose. Even if it had rained, Jacaerys found himself with the sun. His father's kind touch had been always eager to hold him as he aided Jacaerys when he had first learnt to walk. His father the king had been regarded a man with fine warrior's hands, they were filled with calleouses and bruises at the training yard. At least that had been what lord Connington had said. But all Jacaerys knew was that like snow falling at the first dawn of winter, his father's hands were gentle. He had not known the feeling of hard hands

Though, he had inherited his father's hands. That was much evident when he had been only behind brother Aegon and sister Visenya when it came to the sword. It had been said so too by ser Jaime Lannister, who had been their master at arms for many years. Ser Jaime had not liked Jacaerys, he still did not. He had not treated him like a nephew. Jaime Lannister still regardless of it all had not made him feel like an outcast. Each child did the same thing as he did, mayhaps even harder. As a child, Jacaerys did not understand it then. But ser Jaime had treated him with respect regardless. He had been eager to put Jacaerys's hands upon the sword's hilt and tighten its grip, to make him more like a knight. He did not know if it was out of pity or out of love for his sister. Perhaps he would never know. Yet, he was thankful for that encouragement to be more than what he was.

"You have such marvelous hands, Jacaerys!" Maekar's bursting laughter came naturally as his hands rested upon his younger brother's back.  His elder brother had come to watch him, arriving earlier for it before his own joust. "At this point, you could put down Daemon if you wanted to!"

"It was nothing-"

"Your grip on the sword! Oh, how you put down that tosser Florant? Marvelous! Deserving of all the praise in the world!"

"Now, now. Calm down, Maekar." Aemon laughed behind them, entering the tent. "Jacaerys did do good, but he still has melee!"

"Oh he'll be fine brother!" The elder Targaryen waved his hand, a cheeky grin upon his lips.  Moving away from Jacaerys, he called upon his squire from the tent. "You should have seen the glorious fist of Jacaerys nulling that arrogant poppycock!"

"I did see brother. I was there!"

"Then sing Jacaerys praises, even more so now! He won!"

"Why is he so happy?" Aerion enters the tent, asking the question. Dressed in his red and gold doublet, crossed by black stripes across his pale velvet cloak, he had looked more Lannister than Targaryen. "Jacaerys should be the one who is happiest to win."

"He won a wager." Jacaerys finally spoke,  his breathe slightly labored. Slowly, he started removing the straps of the breastplate. It had been too tightly put together by the squire. "Against ser Jason Lannister."

A mocked gaze of betrayal echoed on Maekar's features. "Jacaerys, you betrayed me! How could you tell them so?"

"Figures." Aemon snickers at his elder brother, calling for his squire. "Enjoy the rare mistake Jason makes, brother. It is once in a lifetime!"

"Once in a lifetime I will cherish, along with a hundred golden dragons! Ha!"

Aemon rolled his eyes at his brother, shaking his head soon after. "A fool fool of himself."

"Well, this fool go on and ready for my next match!" Maekar boomed at his brothers, grinning. "Aemon, please give me your handkerchief."

"Huh? Why would I give one to you?"

"Why, did you not know? You are the maiden fair. That is why brother, give me your favor so I may win  against all my adversaries!"

Aemon glared as he pushed Maekar away, who had not stopped laughing. It was not easy to make Aemon annoyed, but when he is weary and full of worries, his nature changes. It had not been all the time. But knowing their elder brother is injured, Aemon Targaryen's nature becomes quicker to play with. Maekar had always been the best culprit for the task and he has not failed before. Aemon called his squire, leaving the tent. Jacaerys knows he was wise to do so. He probably would have strangled Maekar had he stayed. His quota of mischief satisfied, Maekar too left with a cheerful smile, excusing himself for the next joust. 

Alone together, the remaining siblings were a foot apart. Jacaerys struggled as he moved to his left arm, untying the tight binding by Aegon's squire earlier. As he finished his drink, Aerion did notice and moved towards his brother. He had filled in for his elder brother, at his request. In truth, he had not done as well as he should have. Had he not used his fists, he would have been with a dagger imposing a horrible wound to his stomach. Such a thing was not something she needed at this moment, with her fragile health, coupled with their elder brother's injury.

"May I aid you, brother?" Aerion asked Jacaerys as he approached. Jacaerys looked at his brother hesistantly, but soon enough nodded. "Where is your squire?"

"I've got none." Jacaerys says truthfully, causing Aerion to halt for a moment. "What?"

"Later, we'll get you one."

The dark haired young man's eyes widened. "There is no need to-"

"Brother, you are one of us." Aerion whispered, untying the straps of the breast plate entirely. 

"I am no prince."

"You are." His brother countered strongly. Aerion's dark green eyes met his dark ones. "You are a prince, just without a title or land. You should not belittle yourself like this. Without the name or not, you are the son of the dragon. A born lion too!"

"Aerion-"

Aerion sighed, pursing his lips in a tightline. Jacaerys could feel his brother's grip on his armor tighten as he removed them. "I wish you would see it for yourself brother. You are one of us. You always have. It breaks my heart to see you like this. Truly."

Jacaerys did not know what to say. What could he counter those kind words with, when all he has is mistrust upon who he is? It did not feel right, to claim such glory, such honor when he was not even the queen's son. He was the son of the king, but he was a nobody. He was nothing. And he could not change that. Nothing could change such a thing. 

Lady Catelyn had told him herself. If it was not for him, princess Caerys would be alive. If it was not for him, his mother would not have suffered, had continued to suffered to this day. If it was not for his existence, elder brother Aegon would not have been in such horrible pains. If he had not existed, the realm would perhaps be in more peace. Daemon was right to be angry with him, as was lady Catelyn. Even if he called the queen his mother, even if he claimed his family as his own - he will always be a black sheep. One that never truly belonged. He cannot do anything about it. He was just a bastard with nothing to his name. 

He wished lady Catelyn had not said those words.

If so, there would have been no need for tears. 

There would have no sides chosen.

No pain would have festered for so long.

But Jacaerys wished even for awhile, for now.

He had wished he could live a lie forever.

Today or the day after that.

He wished this far away dream lasts for ever.

Because it had been all he had.

Life had been so generous, like this moment here. He had belonged, they always made sure to make it seem so. It is as though the bountiful gaze golden wheat dancing blissfully had kept doing so, frozen in constant morning glory. It was blissful and quiet, a perfect environment to grow upon. However, things over time do change and they must. Even if we do not want them to. It had been hard to let go but at the age of ten, Jacaerys perfectly understood his place in the world. it was when Jacaerys had visited the North for the first time did he hear that word. 

Leila Lannister had taken it upon herself to bring Jacaerys up, to give him the best of her world. However, she knew that he had a mother and his birth mother was in Winterfell, eager to see her son even from beyond the grave. It had been important to her that Jacaerys would know where he had come from. Where his mother was from. To form the foundations of his story. His mother meant well for him, but now that he was older he could not help but wish that his mother had been more selfish with him. Jacaerys had not known any other life, besides the one that had been given to him by his mother at the time. He did not know who Lyanna Stark is, other than a ghost that hangs behind him as an unknow shadow that people had hidden away. Leila Lannister was and always has been his mother. Jacaerys wished that she had not let her goodness claim her. To be only her son, to be her lion cub. 

But that was not possible. 

It will not be his entire life forever. 

For a while though, for a while - he will live in these shadows.

He will live this lie, for a little while more.

Even if it was a short dream, he will take it.

Jacaerys let the palm of his hands pat the back of his elder brother's head, causing the prince to come in surprise. Blinking, the prince did not know what to do. He looked to his brother's face and saw a small smile upon his lips. One that had not been forced, nor was it a mask. It was real. Though smile as it was, it was a real smile. Aerion Targaryen felt his heart beckon in delight.

"What?"

"Thank you."

Aerion snickered in surprise. "For what? I did what all elder brothers should do for their brothers. Nay, for all men! One cannot remove armor by themselves!"

Jacaerys let out a small laugh, causing his brother to feel his chest warm at the sight of his younger brother laugh. It had been a long time since he had seen Jacaerys this delighted. Aerion will admit that he indeed missed it. 

"Still, thank you."

Aerion smiled, nodding at his brother. "You are welcome."

As Jacaerys was about to say something to his brother, the tent's slim doors opened slightly wider. The shadow blocked the light, forcing Jacaerys to turn. Eyes widening at the sight of fthe finest material of  Myrish silks upon the delicate body, he could not help but be astounded to see her eyes again. Blinking, he was wondering if it was a dream. It had been so long since he had lost seen her. It was like then, her smile beckoned him further with all the good that could exist upon the world. 

Aerion smiled, turning away and busied himself at gathering his brother's armor and putting them onto the side to polish. Small steps eagerly came towards him and slowly, the gaze of morning dew kissed his skin once again, brighter than before. Jacaerys felt a lump at his throat, he could not feel the strength to speak. The wind blew gently, kissing her crown of silver hair to flutter all around her. She had still looked the same, so timid and shy and yet the shining pearl of the far away sea. Stopping just a step from him, she smiled even wider.

"I thought I would not be able to catch your presence." 

Struggling, it took a while for the words to come. In a frantic motion, he bowed. "It is nice to see you, my lady."

Daenerys Targaryen smiled at shy Jacaerys, giggling soon after. "It was nice to see you too, Jacaerys."

AEGON TARGARYEN COULD CARE LESS ABOUT THE WHISPERS OF PEOPLE AS THE WEDDING OF HIS YOUNGER BROTHER DAEMON CAME. It not been a shock to Aegon that his brother would end up bedded and wedded earlier than he. Daemon had a life that was thriving in adventure, fueled by his greed to have more. As such the proof of this situation had proven the point, that his careless brother must pay the price for his negliegence. When he had been told about his duty, Daemon had been able to topple much of the gold cloaks all at once with his blade. Wounded many of them, ending the lives of quite a fair bit of them. 

Daemon soon rested upon the body of another paramour soon after, at least that is what Aegon had heard. As it had been from his father's word of mouth after all, written and delivered to his defiant son, he clearly would not respond well to the order. Having heard this, the queen knew what she had to do. She  had quickly gathered Oberyn Martell to accompany her. Once upon Littlefinger's tavern, uncle Oberyn said that when his mother had entered - all had gone quiet. It was like winter had come, just the moment she glared upon Daemon. It had taken a long conversation, his mother's voice calm through out. Daemon did not argue and came back to the Red Keep as soon as he could, eagerly so with the queen and her retinue following them.

Aegon had known his mother would be able to deal with the matter as soon as she could. The queen always hated hinderances to the progress of things. There is an order to things and they must be done, without a trace of failure. Daemon had been an anomaly in that. Eager to win their mother's love, he tried to do many things in order to get her approval, but he felt as though it was short lived. When he did things wrong, she would give the attention he had craved and wanted. The elder prince did not understand such twisted logic, he did not care for the complexity of it at the moment. Right now, Aegon Targaryen knows that the family must save face and for that, Daemon must marry the Grey girl. After all, it was not only his honor he is putting forth here. It was the entire family now. It had taken many years for the family to restore the honor of the crown, much had been his mother's painstaking work in creating connections and solutions behind the throne his father sits upon. 

Aegon sighed as he looked at the scene of daily life from the sight of the gardens. It had been his first time in many years that he would have a moment such as this, alone in the shade and the sweet scent of the thriving flowers. It was everything to him, this moment. In the many years of his life, he had not known a time where he did not have his guard up in constant alert. Aegon had wondered if life like this, of such leisure remark had ever existed in his life before this moment. For a moment, the thought had made him laugh. Aegon could not remember anymore, if he had a moment like this. Even at Dragonstone these past few years, Aegon must admit that the only leisure he has had to himself was hot baths at the lower caverns of the castle, where the hot water endlessly poured into pure pools of amethyst color dwelling against his body. Those moment though brief, had been his respite. The only quiet he could get in his busy day to day. 

This moment though, along with the days that had passed him, had been an exquisite respite from the grueling smell of candles burning on and off for many hours. The dim light as he reads the ledgers of progress in Dragonstone's cotton mills. The documentation of court functions. The money being spent in running the programs of the poor of King's Landing. Much too many are still in his head, as they usually are. But on a nice day like this, he would want nothing more than to abandon them and think of nothing. Nothing with importance. To just enjoy what cool breeze there is in the hot summer and watching the garden's precious inhabitants dance in the joyous jubilant air giving them a tune. 

This was life worth living.

"I did not expect you to be out and about already." The familiar voice echoed as light footsteps followed. Turning around, he pursed his lips. Blond and brown strands blended into a burn as his eyes as he saw them pooling down the small of her back. 

Aegon tried to stand, but feeling his feet once again, he settled to bowing his head. "I had a little help from a friend."

"I see." Joanna Stark replied to him, cradling her pregnant belly with the palm of her hands. "May I take a seat beside you?"

"You may." As she did so carefully, she took a moment to gaze at the bandages wrapped around him. "What is it?"

"Is it painful?"

Aegon smiled, shaking his head. "No, not as much. I have gotten good care and nursing."

"Aegon, I am sorry-" Aegon cut her off by raising his hand. "Aegon, listen to me."

"There is no need for apologies, I told you." The prince of Dragonstone sighed. "I too am at fault. I took a risk. It was bound to happen."

She furrowed her brows. "But not to you. You have always been the best and-"

"The best fall too." He reminds her. "Mistakes happen and we must pay for them, yes?"

Joanna fell silent as he said his reply. The silence lasted one second and then a minute. Aegon did not count it. It had felt more like an infinity than anything else. Holding his breath, the prince thought of what he should say. Should he bore his soul out there? To tell her all that he had felt? Should he avoid it? It was all done, it was all years ago. Aegon racked his brain, the peace shattered in that moment. How can it all be put at rest? If he told her the truth, would that even change things? Would it make his chest feel the settled heart's pace again? He did not know. Pursing his lips into a line, Aegon stretched his palm and placed it upon his thigh. 

"I hated you." Aegon said softly, gazing at Joanna whose eyes intently gazing back. "No, not you. Perhaps it was the idea of you. The idea that you are mine, my person, my partner. I thought mayhaps you would be the one."

"But I am not the one."

"No, you are not." Aegon nodded. A sad smile gazed his lips. "But I also realized that I was meant to love you and to be hurt by you. Because i chose you. I chose to love and I chose to be hurt by you. To be hurt by the fate of falling in love. It was all part of it."

"I wanted to write to you sooner." Joanna admitted to him, her smile mirroring his own. "But my father had not allowed it and as soon as Robb and I were matched, there was no other choice and I..."

"You married him." Aegon finished the sentence. Joanna nodded. 

"I wish I could give you the answers you deserve, the peace you deserve but it had been so long ago now and slowly, they fade further away from me. Our story." Joanna says to him, placing her hand on top of his and squeezing it. Tears were falling from her eyes. "But one thing is clear. I will cherish you for the rest of my life. No matter what comes. You were always the first one, Aegon. And I am grateful for it."

Aegon felt his eyes turn into glass, feeling the emotions well onto him. Placing his hands on top of hers, its as though he thanks her with a squeeze of his hand. "As am I, Joanna. Thank you for being a part of my life. Truly, thank you."

"Free yourself from me, Aegon." Joanna whispers to him softly. "Do it soon. So that you can be happy too."

He laughs, nodding at her. "It will happen, with time."

"Good." Joanna laughs with him. "It is what you deserve, my dear Aegon. After...after all you have suffered. It is what you are owed."

"May the gods be just then." Aegon says softly as he gazes at her pregnant belly. "Let us hope they gift us only good things. For you too and your growing family."

"Thank you." She rubs her stomach softly. "I hope you may know this happiness too. this bliss."

He sighs, breathing the air of a new dawn. "Me too."

For a while, Aegon Targaryen's prayers were answered.

But in the dawn of good, there is also bad, he knows.

He whispers into the wind a small prayer, a hope for blessings.

'Watch over us and gift us a good life, please. I pray.'

The gods though do not like peace.

Peace is awfully boring to those who wield too much power.

HELLO AFTER SO LONG WE GET A CHAPTER HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i am so sorry it took so long. i kept getting side tracked with new plans often coming up and with busy busy college - it is getting harder to try and have time to write. but as you can see, i never forgot about the story and do want to finish it as soon as possible!!!

there's a couple more chapters but next chapter is gonna be juicy because it is the greyjoy rebellion as well huhuhuhuhuhu, so baby theon </3

oh i should also mention that since this chapter has gotten too big, some of the stuff i would like to discuss would be moved to the other chapter so pls stay tuned <333

in any case, i also wonder cause i too am addicted to anthony bridgerton and so im wondering do yall would like a story about him cause i have a short story idea and i would like to try it out!!! tell me what yall think!!!

enjoy the chapter and i hope you are all well. i am very well too, please do not worry about me. but i hope that our world, our everyday can be a little bit better. quite a lot of things in the world scare me but still, i hope we have solutions and progress that would be good for all of us.

i love you all <3

xoxoxoxo Author