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@zalisdarys
# 𝐙 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐃 𝐀 𝐑 𝐘 𝐒 ― an independent & selective blog for king aegon ii targaryen and his dragon, sunfyre, from grrm's ❛ fire & blood ❜ and hbo's ❛ house of the dragon ❜. combines book & show canon with musings. aegon is a targaryen, in.cest may be mentioned on this blog ― please hardblock me if this is an issue for you. mutuals only. strictly 21+. pennedby avery. ( he / him, 29 yrs )
MAP. THE THRONE. THE LAW. THE DRAGONFIRE. THE SWORD.
𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 : tba.
Wedge tailed eagle referenced from http://stockopedia.deviantart.com/art/Eagle-Stock-1-267298206 Another badge sketch. Today was low inspiration day. :C
for as hard as it was for the princess to admit , this was her own fault , her own doing . perhaps continuing to ignore the boy as she had once tried to do would have been far easier ― especially for him who now felt alone , lonely , lacking that attention && affection rhaenyra provided . the guilt gnawing at her in her chest could not be ignored any longer , not with her half-brother's big eyes looking so incredibly sorrowful && filled with anger . still a child , he probably blamed himself , wondered what he did wrong to drive his eldest sister away , rhaenyra knew . what was she supposed to do ? she was a mother now , she could barely see eye to eye with his mother && the more his claim was pushed , the more the heir drifted away from him even if unwillingly . ( she had said it before , she was not a son . despite how much she wanted to deny it , she resented aegon for being what she could not be . shouldn't it be enough , either way ? their father clearly favoured her . the heir , the favourite . the boy could barely understand what some expected of him . )
an expected reaction an answer , one that has rhaenyra expelling an exasperated sigh deep from her chest . her patience was running thin , but she did not want to treat him as many others did ― with anger && harsh words . she was trying , why could he not see ? aegon was still far too young , that was why . still , that feeling in her chest was impossible to shake off . it was nearly irritating . ❛ ⠀ aegon . ⠀ ❜ the name rolls off her tongue in a more stern tone that she had intended , lilac gaze fixated on him as he turns his back at her . the intentions he had , they were reflected in those round , violet eyes of his ― he was somewhat predictable as was expected of a young boy like him . pressing him further would only complicate the situation more , she assumed , so rather than standing && going to him , she stays in that same crouched down position in silence . watching him.
those words were enough to pierce through her chest , but he could not be blamed . he was hurting , he was disappointed , frustrated && confused . of course , dealing with so many emotions at once , aegon could only show it in the form of anger && hatred . rhaenyra tries to understand , tries not to lose her temper with him , to snap at him && make him see reason ― he was a prince , this was the behaviour of a spoiled child . naturally , she doesn't , but what she does is finally stand from her spot , hands clasped behind her back as she approaches him whilst leaving a safe distance between the two . ❛ ⠀ i haven't been exactly a friend to you as of late , aegon , i will ... admit that much . however , we cannot fix our differences like this , can we ? ⠀ ❜ her head leans to the side , trying to get a look at the side of his face to study his reaction , his facial expression . ❛ ⠀ we do not yell , remember ? we … talk , we understand each other . i was unfair to you , but i cannot apologize && do better for you unless you express yourself , hm ? i will listen , i promise you . ⠀ ❜
𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑 . 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 , 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 , 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 . 𝚊 𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 , 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 , 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 . 𝚢𝚎𝚝 , 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 . 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 .
❛ i could do it, ❜ 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 . ❛ if i hit her, that would teach her — just as father has taught me. ❜
𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 , 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 , 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 . 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 , 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 , 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 , 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 , 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 .
@zaldarias
𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 , 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 , 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 - 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 . 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 , 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚢 . 𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 , 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚕 , 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚛𝚊’𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔 ; 𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚗’𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 , 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 , 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 . 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 , 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚝 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 , 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 .
❛ i said, go away! ❜
𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔 , 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 , 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚢 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 , 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 . 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 , 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 . 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚗’𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 ; 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 .
ྀིა༉༷ ░ @zalisdarys sent a prompt . ↪ ❛ if i could be a different person, i promise you, i would be . ❜
this was not the babe she held in her arms as soon as he was born , the one boy she'd have loved dearly as he was her own blood if it wasn't because of his own grandsire pushing for his claim to the throne ― her inheritance by law && birthright . he had grown into something she barely recognized , something she had never expected him to become . this young man who used to follow after her as a boy , tugging at her skirt for her attention , placing his toys on her lap or pushing them into her hands . now drowning in his cups , one after another , showcasing a behaviour unfit for a prince . at times , she wonders if paying more attention to him , if not distancing herself from him would have helped at all or if he was just doomed from his birth .
her disappointment was not hidden , her judging looks weren't either . if she could , she would have made sure her scoffing was more subtle . she cared not for her half-brother's feelings at that moment , not when he was making a fool out of himself . was it within rhaenyra's power , she'd have taken him away to dragonstone , for enough time for him to come back as a well-mannered man . it was too late now , or at least it seemed like it , for him to be saved . if only she could have done anything that would have prevented it from happening , she would have . ❛ ⠀ oh , you promise , do you not ? yet it does not seem like it . ⠀ ❜ head leans to the side , those disapproving eyes racking along his form before they lock with his && a heavy exhale escapes through her nostrils . ❛ ⠀ you are a prince , this behaviour of yours is hardly appropriate . surely , your mother has already spoken of this with you . ⠀ ❜ slender fingers wrap around the hem of a sleeve before she tugs at it to put it back in place . ❛ ⠀ yet you do not care for her words , or anyone's for that matter . too blinded by this ... rebellion of yours that no one seems to care about . ⠀ ❜
𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝙻𝙸𝙿𝚂 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 – 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜 . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 . 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 , 𝚑𝚎’𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 . 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 , 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 , 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 – 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 . 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 , 𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 .
❛ aegon’s rebellion. ❜ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚔 , 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 , 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 . ❛ it does have a nice ring to it, sister. ❜
𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 , 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚙 . 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚛 , 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚝 . 𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 , 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 . 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 .
❛ but, alas, i would sooner be out of your hair were that i was another man. would you like that? ❜
𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 , 𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚢𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 . 𝚢𝚎𝚝 , 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 , 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 , 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 . 𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 .
❛ or, perhaps, you might prefer i grappled at your skirts like a babe? ❜ 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 . ❛ oh please, mummy dearest, be so kind as to coddle me more. ❜
𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 , 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 , 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 . 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 , 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 . 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚍 , 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝 . 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 : 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 . 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 .
got half a million things going on at the moment, i'll try to do replies when i can but no promises. hmu on dis.c.ord !!
COUNTDOWN TO SEASON 2 — day two: targaryen aesthetic
it would be easy, to kick the chair from beneath his brother, send him sprawling to the floor. maybe he'd crack his head open and have to be rushed to the maester's rooms, leave aemond in peace, for once. but no, no, that would only draw his mother's ire, if he is too obvious, and aemond is... unaccustomed to being the object of alicent's ire, not when aegon performs that duty so admirably, as he does no other. it had been foolish of him, of course, to even offer his assistance to aegon, he should've known his brother would be ungrateful, would spit in the face of their shared heritage. he's never taken it seriously, not like aemond, who has taken to the study of their house's histories and culture with the upmost devotion.
he's always had more to prove than aegon, in regards to their valyrian roots, and he's always found it galling that aegon seems to have so little desire to connect to it all. aegon had claimed sunfyre, after his egg had failed to hatch, and helaena had similarly bonded with dreamfyre. but aemond had never had the chance. he'd cried for days, when their mother had finally run short of tolerance and ordered his dragon egg, cold and solid as stone, removed from its place in his hearth, and seeking comfort from his brother had been such a stupid thing to do. his lip curls now, as he regards aegon with poorly disguised contempt, as he remembers how aegon, hungover and pathetic, had sent him from his rooms with a wave of his hand before he'd rolled over in bed and buried his head in his pillows once more. he hasn't gone to aegon for anything since that day. ' it is the language of our forebears, you buffoon. how can you dismiss it so easily? '
𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, part of him still wishing to make sense of it all. how could aemond seem to so easily understand it all? aegon would sooner recover from a morning - star to the face than to face whatever was written before him. for all the eldest son knew, what was written could be nothing more than slurs and profanities to belittle him ― he would not have put it past aemond to do so. aemond hated aegon, he knew that to be true, and so the elder always sought to enforce their dislike of one another. he would find another way to remove that ever - present smug look upon his brother's face.
❛ uh, because it should be as dead as they are. ❜
there was a roll of his eyes as he spoke, as though every word uttered should have been plainly obvious. if their ancestral tongue was truly so influential and powerful, why was it now only those highest up seemed to speak it? aegon enjoyed the life of the nobility, but even he could not deny the divisions between he and those in the darkest pits of flea bottom. perhaps he saw it more than most in the keep, for he fled to the streets in the latest hours of the night in the hopes to feel something other than the ever - crushing nothingness he felt within the keep.
❛ what is tradition if not the scrum of the dead? ❜
"Hush," Alicent murmured softly, smoothing a hand through his silver locks. Her eyes flicker over the dragon and it doesn't look horribly beyond repair. Viserys' stonework had seemed in much more chaos, and even then the stonemasons had been able to fix it. Aegon's dragon seemed easy enough to fix--even the queen could do it.
Helaena looked up, her little lip quivering, before returning her attention to the nurse--attention and potential tantrum avoided.
"It will, my love," Alicent assured her firstborn gently, giving him a small, if weary smile. Her skin was pale, eyes slightly hallow from her third pregnancy. The maesters were not worried--Viserys was not worried. No one worried about her it seemed. She could fade away with a gentle breeze and her husband would have a new mother for her children in a matter of weeks.
Sometimes she wondered if it would be best for all if she did disappear.
She leans forward and presses a kiss to the center of his brow, her skirts spread on the ground beside them. Her hand reaches over and takes one of his chubby palms in her own, lightly brushing her thumb over the damp flesh of his hand. "Sh...We shall wait for the glue to come and we shall fix it," she muses, holding her arms out for an embrace.
𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 pleadingly to his mother as she spoke softly to him, his hands feeling hers as that gentle touch came at last. he should have felt better now that he was getting what he wanted, and part of him knew that, but he still yet felt all those emotions in him coming to surface. it was those days he had been sent to play with the wet nurses for hours on end ( though he only managed to cry ) , the ever - begging of his father for half as much attention as he gave to his elder half - sister, the pulling and pushing of loyalties and emotions for rhaenyra. there was simply too much going on for him, and although he could speak now, he could never quite find the words to express himself. screaming and crying had always done the trick anyway.
he thought for a moment to let out another scream, one so high - pitched that even those in flea bottom would hear, but he didn't. instead, he clambered closer and buried himself within the arms of his mother. he tried wrapping his hands right around her back, though they were not quite long enough yet to meet. his fingers curled tightly into the fabrics of her skirts, not daring to let go of her in case she was whisked away from him. he wanted that least of all.
❛ what if it can't fix? i want my dragon! ❜
aegon was spoilt, as any prince of the realm might be, though perhaps that was why viserys had begun turning his back to him. he held tighter to his mother, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in her scent through his sniffling nose. the tears had ceased, but the hitching of his breath always seemed to catch in his throat. it was not that aegon enjoyed screaming and crying, it often left him with an aching head and an empty heart, but rather he was coming to learn that this was the only way to return his parents' attention to him.
❛ why does it have to break? why can't it just be good? i don't want it broken, i want it good! ❜
the only thing that could tear down the house of the dragon was itself.
independent & selective RHAENYRA TARGARYEN of george rr martin's FIRE AND BLOOD and hbo's HOUSE OF THE DRAGON. book based with show and heavy headcanon influences. penned by lexi. ©
aegon had been the last person on his mind as aemond had vaguely considered who his mystery visitor might be. his brother hasn't shown his face before now, and aemond had thought it was because aegon simply did not care enough to. did not care about aemond. he never has before, why should even this, even his brutal maiming at the hands of their nephew, move him to sympathy? he'd never even considered that aegon had the capacity for it at all.
but here his older brother comes now, shame - faced and with false apologies falling from his tongue. aemond sits in his stony silence as aegon fumbles with his words, tongue ever clumsy when it is not a snide remark, crude innuendo, or cruel taunt that it contends with. sincerity sits awkwardly on his brother's shoulders, or as close as aegon may come to something like it. aemond wonders, absently, if their mother has put him up to this. has scolded him again, unleashed another furious tirade about his responsibilities and failures. it is the only reason that he can think of that his brother would be here.
the disgust on aegon's face is plain to see, and aemond digs his nails into the tender flesh of his palms, until his hands shake, knuckles bleached white and blood welling in the half - moon impressions he leaves behind. he'd smashed the looking glass one of the maester's attendants had foolishly brought before him, only a day before, had ripped it from the man's hands and smashed it on the stone floor. then he'd emptied the meagre contents of his stomach and would have bellowed for all of them to get out, if mother hadn't cleared the room first. every surface in the room that might have shown him his reflection is covered, now.
aegon reaches out to touch him and aemond nearly slaps his hand away, nearly flinches, nearly recoils violently from the hands that have only ever hurt before. but he forces himself still, feels the empty socket where his eye should be throb, the pain radiating to the back of his skull. something is pressed into his hands and aemond stares down at the box. of a fine make, surely, undoubtedly something frivolous his brother has spent his coin on, in a futile attempt to soothe a hurt that will never truly mend.
' a gift. ' his voice is flat, betraying no gratitude, nor any other feeling that might have been stirred by the gesture. he turns the box over in his hands, but does not open it. not yet. his eye, the only one that is whole, fixes on aegon with more focus than he has felt in days, the effects of the milk of the poppy finally having ebbed enough to allow it once more. ' to assuage your own guilt. '
𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆, aegon still loved aemond. all it had been was some light teasing, a touch of bulying ― nothing more, aegon thought, and now it had come to this: his brother was irreparably wounded. had the shock of the scene not shaken aegon ( though he had still been somewhat asleep in the hall despite standing alert ) he would have forced that bastard son to the ground and taken both eyes from him. but this was not his debt to take from the velaryons, he would not steal more from his already stolen - from brother ― and so he didn't.
perhaps, and how aegon so hated to admit it, their mother had been right. the velaryon bastards could not, and would not, be things for him to play with any longer. the truth of his mother's words had always lingered in aegon's mind, oft like riddles swirling and beckoning, but he thoughtlessly cast them aside. her words were like toys he no longer desired to play with; the irony in his ardour of youth, aegon hated it. even standing here, he could feel their mother's snide smirk curling on her lips with unshed words of, i told you so. he knew he should have listened, but why should he listen to her when she had never once thought to hear him?
aegon sharply bit his tongue, swallowing back those metallic thoughts as he silently reminded himself of why he was here: to be present for his little brother. he could not be present for aemond if he was so caught up in his hatred of their mother, even if he so genuinely believed her to be deserving of it. aegon made no attempt at lightening the mood here, he knew he would simply say or do something wrong, and sever their already torn bond. he should have been a better brother to aemond, and a worse uncle to their bastard nephews, jace and ... not jace.
❛ my intentions are not to ... assuage mine own guilt. ❜
his voice was soft, as not to worsen any ache though he doubted it would help at all. violet eyes glanced away for a moment, to a chair that he supposed their mother had sat in. aegon stepped aside for a moment, grabbing the chair and then placing it by aemond's bed in an easy line of sight for him. he then sat facing his brother, not lankily and lazily as he was so accustomed to but rather upright and proper, as their mother had always taught them. it was not often he bade good manners in private, though he was hoping to show aemond that he was willing to try for him now.
❛ i cannot restore what was taken, but i― i have spoken with the maester. he says this may help with the pain, even if only slightly. and to ... to, um, help with the shape of your face. i―i don't know. you can sell it if you don't like it. ❜
for as much as she tried , it seemed impossible to form some kind of bond with her half siblings . in the beginning , with aegon , it had worked some . he was just a small boy , following after his eldest sister && seeking for her attention , her affection . she had tried to teach him say her name , all to no avail && she had accepted the way he began calling her ― nyra , a name she was already familiar with , one his mother used once upon a time . how did it end like this ? the incessant pushing for his claim as the first born son was probably the reason why rhaenyra had started resenting the young boy . was it really his fault ? perhaps not , but the princess was not one to easily admit to her wrongdoings .
she had found him , alone in the training yard , wooden sword in hand with this scowl on his face ― he had probably gotten in trouble again , perhaps that's why he was all alone here , or maybe he had ran from his caretakers as he often did . before she could even say a word , the boy was already throwing those words at her , the bitterness only growing with each uttered one . rhaenyra did not blame him , yet it still stung because this was still that little boy she had carried on her back once , eliciting that laughter from him && those smiles that sometimes happened less often . she was now a mother herself , jacaerys was nearly three && perhaps splitting her attention had become harder since ― but also the feud between her && his mother , that perhaps had to do with it . ❛ ⠀ aegon . ⠀ ❜ the name rolls off her tongue easily , crouching down to be the same height as him && there's that apologetic smile on her face , hands resting over her knees as violet hues met violet . ❛ ⠀ i do not blame you for being angry with me , yet you have to understand … it's not the same now , jacaerys needs my attention , he's still a babe , like daeron . ⠀ ❜ her youngest half sibling , born the same year as her first son , raised alongside each other upon the order of her father . ❛ ⠀ why don't you come see him later , hm ? we could spend time together that way , don't you think ? ⠀ ❜ her hand finally rests over his arm , gently rubbing up && down as if to soothe him . ❛ ⠀ i could ask for some sweets to be brought to my chambers , but it has to be our secret . would you like that ? ⠀ ❜
𝐈𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐂𝐄, then his glare was the storm. violet hues burned violently as he watched his elder half - sister crouch to his height. he wanted to hit her with the sword in his hand, he wanted to beat the ground and yell and cry and scream ― perhaps then the gods would listen to him, perhaps then they would see that he was still there and that he existed. as young as he was, he doubted it. his prayers always seemed to fall on deaf ears; whether he pleaded to the old gods or the new, it mattered not. it seemed even the gods hated aegon, punishing him with silence when he so craved attention. he had even started wondering if there was some ill deed he had done to so deserve this, but he did not think that sneaking a second helping of honey cakes after supper deserved such severe punishment. or, perhaps, it did warrant it ― aegon was only a boy, he did not truly know right from wrong. all he knew was that he was hurting, and these hurts were not being tended to as they once had.
❛ no! ❜
one of his hands left the training sword, for it was still too heavy to be held in only one, and then sharply pushed his half - sister's hand off him. the training sword tipped to the ground, the blunt pointed edge digging into the soil. her touch was burning his flesh; he would not have minded so much if it was from sunfyre, but this was a burn he could not tolerate. it was an acid dripping onto his skin, not a bare flame engulfing him.
❛ you're just going to tell father! you're going to say i stole it! ❜
his hand immediately reached back for the training sword, and for a moment he thought of hitting her with it. his eyes glared up at hers, he had the perfect target, he would hit her right in the face. that would teach her, he thought. his muscles twitched, shifting the wooden sword ever so slightly for a better grip. his heart was pounding faster, he wanted to hurt her like he had been hurt. yet before he could allow himself to bring the sword up, he stopped himself. he heard only their father's voice in his head, the endless yelling he would endure if he so much as laid a finger on the favourite his half - sister. his lips curled downwards even further, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. aegon quickly turned his back to rhaenyra so that he could not accidentally ( or not so accidentally ) smack her with the sword ― and, too, to hide his tears. he would not let her see him cry.
his fingers curled tighter around the wooden handle before lifting the sword up to his shoulder. he took a step towards the straw man he'd been earlier practicing on, then grunted and heaved the sword down on it. his movements were slow and sloppy, entirely untrained. he had not yet built up the strength or the muscle or the knowledge to wield even a wooden sword in his hand, but there was a determination fusing with his anger. he squeezed his eyes shut, still swinging with all his might to hit the straw man again and again.
❛ go away! go away, i hate you! ❜
“do simply what is needed of you. nothing”
@perzonye [ft. rhaenyra targaryen] LIKED FOR A LYRICAL STARTER
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 had only grown with him. he'd tried so hard and for so long to have their shared father love him half as much as he did rhaenyra, and yet it was never enough. he was never enough. he would never live to be his half - sister, she had everything he didn't; even she had started to ignore him as their father did. it, too, did not help that his mother was now plaguing his mind with hate for her. it was all culminating inside him, a longingness for being wanted, for being loved ― poised by the whisperings of treachery that would befall when the king were to die.
❛ don't mess with me, i'm a big boy now and i'm very scary. ❜
@worthyheir [ft. jacaerys velaryon] LIKED FOR A LYRICAL STARTER
❛ but if i just showed up at your party, would you have me? would you want me? ❜
𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍, a certain longing in aegon's that he hoped jace would miss. it was ever-present, unavoidable. he could not hide it, even if he so wanted. yet still, he could not help but to look to his nephew with a certain affection, such an affection that he could not quite place a name to.
❛ would you tell me to go fuck myself? ❜
By Mark Sabino ig: @marksnotnice
@king7doms [ft. alicent hightower] LIKED FOR A LYRICAL STARTER
𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓, his foot bouncing urgently as his hands rip skin from nail. he needed a drink, he needed a sword. he needed to rain fire from the sky, leaving the bitch of dragonstone to nothing more than a pile of sullen ash. they'd said it would get easier with time, but they were wrong. he was gone now, forever. his son, his heir. the brightest star in his night sky turned supernova before his time. beads of blood wept from torn hangnails as aegon raised his hands up, covering his face and eyes as though that might stop his ceaseless crying.
❛ and i can't seem to get a grip, no matter how i live with it. ❜
@zalisdarys sent a raven : 🎁 [ #19 would that i hozier ]
❛ watching still - living roots be consumed by the flame. ❜
𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋, aegon's patience was wearing thinner at each meeting. his own council did not listen to him, so why bother attending? he had never been prepared for this role, never wanted it, and yet here he sat.
❛ why must you always speak in ruch riddles, grandfather? just speak your mind and speak it true. ❜
