I'm so painfully aware that I haven't posted anything in so long (literal years), here's a draft piece of Blackfyre!reader meeting Egg in King's Landing
[A/N: I will absolutely be rewriting this into my oc x Daeron fic that is already 7000 words long]
“You must be Aegon, what a nice name” You smile gracefully, moving to sit beside the youngest prince, mindful of leaving enough space as to not be overbearing.
“No it isn’t,” the young prince stated pointedly “My siblings call me Egg” he huffed, gaze downcast.
“Perhaps as your newest sister, I could call you Egg as well - if you like?”
“No, you can’t, and you’re not my sister. You’re a Blackfyre.” The last word fired from his lips with such distaste one would’ve assumed the little prince had bitten into something rotten. “First, you were betrothed to the Bastard-Traitor Daemon’s eldest son, and now you’re betrothed to Daeron.” The littlest prince’s outburst then seemed to die as quickly as it came about, Aegon’s jaw tightening shut whilst his gaze began fastidiously analysing cracks on the tile floor.
You pursed your lips, almost as nervous to fill the silence Aegon’s outburst had created as he was. You took a moment to remind yourself that you were dealing with a boy who could know precious little of a Rebellion that ended years before his birth. You remembered that even Daeron, who seemed so much more a man now than Aegon was, was a mere child of six when your father, Robb Reyne, swore his sword to Daemon Blackfyre at the promise that you -his young daughter, would be wed to Daemon Blackfyre’s firstborn son.
Then you silenced your racing mind with an exonerated breath, taking a moment to summon all the ladylike patience you were capable of possessing “You’ve been quite quick to judge me, my prince, for a betrothal that fell through 13 years prior that I myself had no say in.”. Aegon’s gaze shifted from the tiles below to the opposite hedges, his jaw softening, you continued “In truth, me and Daemon’s son were only twelve, not much older than you are now, we ‘wouldn’t wed for years’ is what my father told me, ‘Seven willing you might become Queen’… I never wanted to become Queen…” You paused to observe Aegon, who had shifted his entire body slightly towards you “Truly, I’m not sure if I had ever been in the same room as Aegon Blackfyre. And if I had been, then I could not even tell him apart from his brother. All things considered, my marriage to Daeron making far more progress.” Aegon giggled at that, and you nudged him with your elbow playfully. “Might I ask, my prince, who has told you so much about by prior engagement?” You turned earnestly towards Aegon.
“Arion told me” he said, gaze shifting over your face and around your hair before returning to the nearby shrubbery. “Well, he didn’t tell me, I overheard him”
You tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible but were powerless to stop the keen narrowing of your eyes “Has Aerion said anything else, my prince?”.
“He said something about you being too low to marry Valarr or Matarys – on account of you being a traitor’s daughter, and that Daeron was a ‘pity match’ for you.”
“A ‘pity match’?”
“I overheard him say that Grandfather is trying to kill two birds with one stone, that he’s trying to distract a grandson and soothe misgivings from the Rebellion with one marriage by pairing up a drunk with a traitor’s daughter… That being, Daeron and you” The little prince trailed off nervously.
“Was that all Aerion said, my prince?” You ask, half hoping Aegon would say nothing more and fearing all else he could add.
Aegon looked askance before responding “… He said that you would be wed to him when Daeron finally drowned in his cups…” Aegon looked over just in time to see your eyebrows practically hit your hairline, adding “Father did smack him for that, though”
“Was Daeron not here for any of this?” wishing that perhaps your new husband would’ve defended you somewhat.
“He was, my lady, but he was under the table by then.”
Unable to walk away from a prince of the blood, you tried to excuse yourself, hoping Aegon would relinquish you and spare you from all else he’s heard “Was that that all, my prince?”
“No,” Aegon had taken no heed to your polite formality and continued rambling on “I also overheard father complaining to my uncle, pitying that your marriage was a punishment to you both, a punishment for Daeron to be married to a traitor’s daughter and a punishment for you to marry a drunk”. Aegon turned his face to yours, then widened his eyes as if surprised you found this information disheartening.
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Yeah, sorry this ends so suddenly, I will probably publish the first chapter of my oc x Daeron fic soon which I have at least edited slightly
