Chapter 15: A Distant Dream (10K Word 100K View Special!)
"I'm here!" Alicent called out in a hushed voice, breathless as she hurried to join Rhaenyra and Aegon. She was clearly not accustomed to the heart-pounding thrill of sneaking out in the dark, nor the exhilaration of running through the dense forest. Her slightly disheveled appearance, coupled with the unmistakable excitement in her eyes, made the twins stifle laughter as they saw this rare, adventurous side of her. Gone were the elegant gowns and noble airs, for she was now dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, something entirely out of character for the Lady of Hightower. But in that moment, she was just their friend, fully embracing the daring escape.
The night deepened, and with it, the light drizzle turned into an impending rainstorm, the air thick with the smell of wet earth and fresh leaves. Aegon, leading the way, took both Rhaenyra and Alicent by the hand, guiding them with an unspoken confidence. As they moved deeper into the woods, Aegon's connection to the earth was palpable. His power resonated through the ground, each step sending vibrations through the soil that mapped their surroundings as clearly as if his eyes were open, though he hardly needed them.
But it wasn't just the earth he sensed tonight. There was something else. The presence. A dark, looming force that hovered on the edge of his awareness. He had felt it before in his dreams, a foreboding entity that teased the edges of his consciousness. But now, here in the heart of the forest, it felt real and all too familiar. Ancient. Powerful. And it was not above ground... it was beneath.
A few dozen meters ahead, the feeling intensified, pulling Aegon toward something unknown. He came to a sudden stop, lifting his free hand and summoning a small, flickering flame to illuminate their path. The dim light revealed nothing out of the ordinary at first, just the forest floor, damp and unremarkable. But then, as if the earth itself responded to his presence, the ground beneath their feet gave way.
With a soft rumble, the earth shifted, and before any of them could react, for even he remained ignorant of it's intent as it crumbled beneath them. The three were gently rolled and deposited into a hidden cave, a small descent that left them breathless and disoriented for a moment.
When the dust settled, the air was thick with mystery. Before them lay a deep, vibrant spring, its waters shimmering faintly in the dim light of Aegon's flame. But that wasn't what made them pause. Towering above the spring was a Heart Tree, its ancient face staring out with eyes carved deep into the bark. Its presence was powerful, almost otherworldly. The red sap that bled from its eyes looked like tears, creating an eerie, sacred atmosphere within the cave.
Aegon felt a rush of memories flood his mind. Memories he had tried to forget, visions of darkness he had burned in a futile attempt to leave them behind. He had promised himself never to dwell on that darkness again, but now, faced with this ancient tree and the spring, those memories surged back with force.
The dark presence he had sensed was no longer a distant whisper,it was here, connected to this place, but if this feeling came from the tree, then it wasn't one of malice or foreboding it forced on him before, but as though it needed that same feeling to back what too plagued him, for to truly fight a monster, you need to become one.
Rhaenyra and Alicent stood beside him, equally mesmerized by the sight. The Heart Tree's eyes seemed to follow them, as if it knew their secrets, as if it could see into the very depths of their souls. Alicent, though shaken by the fall, was the first to speak.
"What is this place?" she whispered, her voice filled with awe and a hint of fear.
Rhaenyra stepped forward, her gaze locked on the tree. "I don't know, it's like the one in the courtyard in the keep but more...natural, as though it keeps what made ours lose something it would never get back"
Aegon's heart pounded in his chest as he moved closer to the spring, his flame flickering in the growing intensity of his emotions. He had never heard of a place like this in any of the histories on the Crownlands he had figuratively burned through as a child, nor had there ever been mention of such power beneath the earth in the few 'Dragon Dreams' that presented themselves. Yet now, standing here, it felt as though he had always been meant to find it.
His mind raced, but one thought remained clear, this place was a gateway, a connection to something far greater than any of them could understand in the moment.
Alicent then opened up in that moment of wonder, her words seemed to stretch on forever. The air in the hidden cave felt heavier, as if the ancient Heart Tree itself was holding its breath, waiting for the outcome of this moment. Aegon and Rhaenyra exchanged glances, their minds racing to comprehend the enormity of what had just been laid before them. The cave, with its shimmering spring and ancient roots, felt both intimate and impossibly vast, amplifying every emotion coursing through them.
Alicent, on her knees before them, her hands clutching at theirs, was the picture of desperation and hope intertwined. Her heart was laid bare. She had just confessed the deepest yearning she had, a desire that broke every law and expectation of her noble station. To give herself to them, not just as a friend, confidante or even occasional lover, but as a second wife, something that could not only shatter the social norms but could also ignite conflict across the Kingdoms. But it was also a declaration of her love for them, a plea for freedom from a life she feared.
Aegon's thoughts swirled. He had always sensed Alicent's closeness, her loyalty, and perhaps even a deeper affection that ran beneath their shared moments. But this… this was far more than he had ever anticipated. Alicent wanted a life free from the chains that bound her to tradition, to faith, to the lord she was promised to, a life that defied the very core of Westerosi law and custom. Her plea for a child, their child, echoed in his mind. Aegon had long felt constrained by the expectations of their world, ones he expertly worked to live with, but this, her offer to be his, their second wife, was not something he had considered, nor would be in his top ten guesses.
Rhaenyra too couldn't help but mentally reel from it. She had thought Alicent might ask for something simpler, an escape from the constraints of her father's plans. Perhaps the joke she had humorlessly put forward before, to see the wonders cross the narrow sea on dragon back and eat only cake. But this… this was a request that could change everything. Alicent was offering to entwine her life with theirs permanently, breaking the very societal chains that had oppressed her, but also inviting the potential wrath of the Faith and the noble lords who would surely object to such a union, such having occurred more then once, first with Maegor, then with Jaehaerys.
The rain outside grew heavier, the distant thunder echoing through the cave. It was as if the very elements were in turmoil, reflecting the conflict within their hearts. Rhaenyra's gaze flickered between Aegon and Alicent, her heart torn between love and duty. She had always loved Alicent like a sister, and in truth, something their few moments of deep intimacy handn't changed, she didn't want her to be forced into a loveless marriage. But a second wife? To share Aegon, not just as a Prince, friend, shared lover, but as a husband? It was a concept both foreign and begrudgingly unsettling.
Aegon knelt beside Alicent, lifting her chin gently so that their eyes met. His expression was not one of judgment or rejection but of quiet contemplation. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the hope and fear warring within her. He had never been one to bend to tradition for tradition's sake. If anything, he had spent much of his life challenging it. But he also understood the gravity of what Alicent was asking. This was not just about them; it would ripple through the entire realm, and the Faith of the Seven would not take kindly to such a union, with the Doctrine of Exceptionalism that Jaehaerys, stating Targaryens to be above, or at least exempt from rules created in Andalos of old, having fought to implement likely only going so far.
"Alicent…" Aegon began softly, his voice gentle yet firm. "You ask much of us, but you ask it from the heart. I see that. You've always stood by us, never asking for anything in return. And now you stand here, asking for something that could shatter the very foundations of the world we live in..."
He paused, glancing at Rhaenyra, who was still grappling with her own thoughts. She gave him a small nod, urging him to continue.
"I would never deny you your freedom. I would never see you forced into a life not of your choosing. If this is truly what you desire… if you want to be bound to us, to me, in such a way, now and forever… then I cannot refuse you. But know this, it will not be easy. The Faith will likely rise against us. Most lords will sneer, others perhaps seeing it as a favorable first of many steps for chance. We will be branded as heretics, perhaps worse. But if you understand that… if you are willing to bear that burden with us…"
Aegon's voice softened further, his hand brushing away a tear that had escaped down Alicent's cheek. "Then yes, Alicent. I will give all my might so you may have the life you ask for."
Alicent's breath hitched, relief flooding her face. But before she could speak, Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with emotion.
"I love you, Alicent," Rhaenyra said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've always been my closest friend, my sister in all but name. And if this is truly what you want… if you wish to be part of our family in this way… then I will welcome you with open arms."
The weight of Rhaenyra's words hung in the air, and Alicent's understandably emotional relief was palpable. Yet there was still an undercurrent of tension, of uncertainty, of what this decision would mean for the future. A second wife, a shared bond, a child born out of love but branded as impure by the Faith, this was not a path without consequence.
Aegon stood, offering a hand to both women, pulling them to their feet. "Then we move forward together, as one. Whatever comes, we will face it, and we will do so united, for if the world hates you, just remember, that it has hated me first, and I can live with that!"
As the rain fell outside the cave, the three of them stood together, bound not just by friendship or duty, but by a choice they had made, a choice to defy the world that sought to control them, to claim their own destiny in a realm that would fight against them at every turn.
In the sacred, hidden depths of the cave, their shared moment transcended physical connection, becoming something that could only be described as transcendent. The delicate glow of the bio-luminescent flora clung to their skin, casting their bodies in soft hues of emerald green and sapphire blue as they embraced the weightlessness of the spring's waters, floating together in a silence that was as profound as it was intimate.
Aegon felt the smoothness of their skin glide against his as Alicent's lips traced a slow, teasing path along his neck. Her touch was tender, almost reverent, but there was a hunger beneath it, an urgency that came from their shared understanding of this moment's significance. It wasn't just an act of passion; it was a declaration, a bond that went deeper than words, solidified by their shared love, their mutual trust, and the knowledge that they were defying a world that sought to confine them.
Rhaenyra, quick to join, mirrored Alicent's actions on the opposite side, her lips pressing gently against his skin. Her hands slipped across his chest, her touch firm and familiar, like a silent vow. She smiled against him when she felt his sigh, a quiet sound that was almost lost to the ambient hum of the spring, but she caught it, the subtle exhalation of tension as he surrendered fully to the moment.
With a stomp, Aegon felt the earth respond as the ground behind him shifted, sealing the breach from which they had fallen into this hidden place. It was a symbolic gesture as much as a practical one: a barrier between them and the outside world, ensuring that this moment, in all its rawness and vulnerability, would remain theirs alone. No prying eyes, no interruptions, just the three of them in this ancient cradle of nature.
They undressed each other slowly, each layer of clothing falling away like old burdens being shed. There was no haste, only the soft sound of fabric sliding against skin and the quiet, appreciative glances shared between them. When the last of their clothes fell away, the cool air of the cave wrapped around them, biting at their exposed skin, causing a delightful shiver to course through their bodies.
Aegon stepped into the spring first, the water cool against his skin, though he remained unaffected by its chill like always. Alicent followed, her movements more cautious as the cold took her by surprise, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Rhaenyra, ever the playful spirit, jumped in with a laugh, splashing water as she swam toward them. Aegon, with a knowing smile, concentrated, sending warmth coursing beneath the waters surface, heating the small area around them until the cold bite faded, leaving only the comforting embrace of the warmed spring.
For a time, they simply floated together, weightless and free. He held both women close, their bodies entwined in the water as though gravity itself had ceased to exist in this hidden paradise. The sensation of floating, of being suspended in the warmth of the spring, added a dreamlike quality to their intimacy. It was as if time had slowed, each second stretching into eternity, allowing them to savor every touch, every shared glance.
Suddenly, Alicent dipped beneath the surface with a mischievous smile, disappearing into the depths. Rhaenyra followed without hesitation, her laughter a bubbling echo beneath the water. Aegon was last to join, diving down with them into the glowing, enchanted waters. The glow grew brighter as they descended.
Beneath the surface, they moved together as one, each touch amplified by the surreal nature of their underwater dance. Rhaenyra rested on Aegon from behind, her hands clasped together as her arms laid around his neck, her chest pressed against his back. Alicent was in front, her eyes locked on his with a look of pure bliss. The water muffled all sound, but their actions spoke volumes, lips meeting, bodies tangling, breath shared between them like lifeblood in a world without air. It was symbolic of their new unity, a silent agreement to face whatever lay ahead together.
Aegon, ever the careful lover, made good on his promise. His hands, skilled and deliberate, coaxed the sounds of muffled pleasure from Alicent as they lingered beneath the surface. She trembled, her body quivering with the intensity of her release, her limbs becoming weightless as she gave herself over to the sensations completely. They resurfaced moments later, Alicent's body still reverberating with the aftershocks of her pleasure as her purity was gifted to the man deserving of so much love in her and Rhaenyra's eyes. She floated against Aegon, her breath shallow, her eyes glazed with satisfaction.
They gently resurfaced, taking in air to the nest of butterflies that dwelt within each of them.
Rhaenyra, ever the observant one, whispered teasingly in Alicent's ear, "Ever the show-off, my love." Her voice was a playful purr, but beneath the teasing was a possessive edge, a reminder that she, too, had her own role to play in this.
With a sly grin, Rhaenyra shifted her position, her intentions clear. It was her turn to take the reins, and Aegon knew better than to deny her. She leaned forward, claiming Alicent's lips in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. As the three of them moved together, the water around them seemed to pulse with life, responding to their passion, their bond, their defiance of the world above. The glow of the spring brightened, casting shadows of their entwined forms on the cave walls, as if the very elements themselves were bearing witness to their love.
In this hidden corner of the world, beneath the watchful gaze of the Heart Tree and the ancient forces that lived throughout nature, they forged a new future together, a future filled with love, unity, and defiance against the chains that sought to bind them. The reverberations of this moment would echo through their lives, and perhaps even through history, as they set out to challenge not just the expectations of their people, but indirectly the very 'gods' themselves.
This night, under the shelter of the old gods, they were not just lovers, they were conspirators in something far greater than themselves.
Eventually emerging from the spring, he girls feeling the chill of the air meeting with wet skin as they both instinctively let out soft staggered breaths, quickly wiping away all they could with a towel Aegon brought in his satchel. He, however, breathed into being soft, rhythmic flames that crept from his from his skin like a dying hearth, providing a heat that radiated outward that quickly evaporated the lingering water from him, one the girls, with both their backs turned, backed towards to relief. Rhaenyra, distracted by the vibrant glow of a nearby orchid growing by the spring, absently placed her hand on his back. The flames brushed against her skin, but she remained captivated by the flower, entirely unaware of what had just occurred.
It was only when Aegon turned, feeling her touch and expecting a flinch, that the realization struck both of them. The brief flash of alarm in his eyes made Rhaenyra pause, her hand still resting on his back, unscathed by the flames that had once burned her as a child. They exchanged a glance of stunned realization. Rhaenyra's eyes widened as she lifted her hand, examining it closely. No burns. No pain. Nothing but the warmth from his flames that should have left their mark.
Alicent, in the middle of fastening her tunic, noticed the abrupt stillness between the twins and tilted her head in concern. "Is something the matter?" she asked, her voice gentle but curious, having missed the moment of revelation.
Aegon quickly took Rhaenyra's hand into his, instinctively allowing the soothing glow of his healing capabilities to pass through his touch, though there was no real need. "Are you sure you're fine?" he asked, his voice soft, yet laced with disbelief. He inspected her hand again, expecting to see blisters, but there was nothing.
"I'm... fine," Rhaenyra replied, still perplexed. She gently pulled her hand away from his, showing it to be completely unharmed. The vivid memory of a time long ago emerging, when a mere accidental brush of flame had left her skin blistered, resurfaced in her mind.
Aegon's brows furrowed. "Your thigh was blistered when I accidentally brushed against it when I first did this, when we were children..." His words hung in the air as the implications of what had just happened began to sink in. They turned their attention to the Heart Tree, standing tall and ancient, its face carved deep in its bark staring impassively into the night. It remained as it always had, silent, mystically unassuming, though now it seemed to pulse with something otherworldly. Could it have been the cause? Was this some form of divine intervention?
The twins had long carried a shared sorrow that Rhaenyra, despite her fierce spirit and natural leadership, had not been gifted with the powers that Aegon wielded. As they had grown older, that sense of unfairness had subsided to a small degree. Aegon had always thought it a cruel twist of fate, an unspoken withholdment by whatever forces decided such things. Yet now, standing before the Heart Tree, the symbols of the Old Gods all around them, something had shifted. Aegon's mind raced with possibilities, his thoughts piecing together the strange happenings that had transpired since their arrival in the cave.
"This can't be a coincidence," Aegon murmured, half to himself, but loud enough for both women to hear.
The flames that had once threatened to scar Rhaenyra now left her unscathed. It was as though something had awakened within her, something connected to the old forces that governed the land, a gift not of fire, but of immunity to it. Aegon couldn't help but think this was a message, a sign that they were on the right path. The tension between the Old Gods and the New had existed for as long as time itself, but this... this felt like an approval, a divine nod from the Old Gods themselves.
"Perhaps they're telling us something," Aegon mused, his eyes still locked on the Heart Tree. He could feel the pulse of ancient magic all around them, the same force that had whispered to him in his dreams and guided him through his visions. He had long been called many things by those who knew him, a child of prophecy, the Warrior, god of war, or, in hushed whispers, the Stranger, a god of death and the unknown. But this was something different, something older than the Seven, something that resonated deep in his bones.
Rhaenyra, too, seemed to be absorbing the gravity of the moment. Her gifts may not have manifested in the same way as Aegon's, but she was no less a part of the ancient forces that shaped the world. She was not wielder of flame, but its equal, immune to its destructive force. Where Aegon was the champion of fire and the dream, perhaps Rhaenyra was tied to the Old Gods, whether Valyrian or Westerosi, the forces of nature that lingered beyond the understanding and scrutiny of the Seven.
Aegon's grip on her hand tightened briefly, his thoughts swirling, temporarily departing from his commonly pragmatic mindset despite who he was. "Maybe this is their way of telling us... that we are worthy. That our fight against old beliefs, against what they expect of us, is justified."
Rhaenyra's eyes flicked to the Heart Tree, then back to Aegon, understanding dawning in her gaze. The Old Gods, silent and watchful, had chosen them. And in their subtle way, they had gifted her this immunity to fire as a sign, a blessing for the path they would take.
For the first time, Aegon felt the weight of their future not as a burden, but as a promise. They were not alone. The Old Gods were watching. And now, perhaps, they had found their champion in his wife, for the powers within likely beckoned to the past, to the days when dark mystics defied fate in the Freehold.
As dawn slowly broke over the horizon, Aegon led them from the sanctuary of the cave, still cloaked by the shadows of the forest. The faint light of the rising sun struggled to chase away the cover of night, but the three made haste, running through the woods with the thrill of their clandestine adventure still humming in their veins. By the time they neared the royal camp, the dawn had almost revealed itself fully, and the world began to stir around them.
Back in the royal tent, Ser Harold Westerling, ever vigilant but discreet, sensed something amiss. He had noticed the absence of the twins earlier but left them to their own devices, not wishing to stir up unnecessary concern without proof, for perhaps they had simply taken their leave to somewhere else in the camp. Now, he peered in and found Aegon and Rhaenyra curled up in bed, seemingly asleep. The sight might have fooled anyone else, but not Ser Harold. He could recognize the look of two royals who had managed to sneak away under his watch. With a small smirk, he quietly exited the tent, content to let them have their peace, knowing full well that a public scandal would serve no one. So long as they were safe, that's all that mattered.
Two hours later.
Aegon and Rhaenyra emerged, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and adjusting to the growing hustle and bustle of the camp. The air was thick with the anticipation of the day's hunt, and the camp had come to life with servants and knights preparing for the day ahead. Ser Harold greeted them with a knowing smile as he guided them toward the royal pavilion for breakfast.
"Has sleep not found you well this night, my Prince, Princess?" Ser Harold asked, his voice carrying a slight tease. Aegon and Rhaenyra exchanged a brief glance, their tired expressions nearly giving them away, but they quickly masked it with casual ease.
"Restless I would say Ser," Aegon replied with a casual shrug, his tone light, though a hint of humor danced in his eyes. Rhaenyra smiled beside him, but neither confirmed nor denied what Harold surely suspected.
The two joined their parents, Aemma rocking Baelon gently in his crib while cradling Visenya in her arms. They were met with the smell of freshly cooked breakfast, three platters laid out for them. The Prince was brought a smile at the sight of Rhaenyra making her way over to the sleeping Baelon, silently cooing over him.
He heaped his plate with a generous serving of sausage, black pudding, toasted bread, bacon, eggs, and tomatoes, all sprinkled with the precious ground pepper from Essos. He dug in with relish, his appetite fueled by the night's adventure. Rhaenyra, ever his companion in indulgence, mirrored his plate to a lesser degree. Her appetite not only increased drastically over her pregnancy, but maintained it's new found course when nursing.
The twins' playful banter from earlier lingered in her mind, Aegon had once joked that there would be "more for him" in the future, causing both of them to laugh uncontrollably. The thought lingered even as they sat in the company of their parents, sharing their morning meal.
"How faired your sleep, my dears?" Queen Aemma asked, her voice warm and gentle as she softly bobbed her arms, soothing Visenya her eyes gleamed with innocent curiosity. The twins exchanged another glance, their practiced tired expressions covering the truth of their nocturnal escapade.
"All's well that ends...about as well as it could have, my Queen," Aegon replied again, though his mouth was half full of food, prompting Rhaenyra to suppress a smile. He followed it with a sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice, grateful for the refreshment.
King Viserys, his excitement for the day barely contained, leaned forward. "The hunt will be grand today," he said with a gleam in his eye, his hand gripping the shaft of Kevin Lannister's spear Aegon graciously lent him for the occasion. "It is my hope to see the White Hart, a gift from the gods unlike any other. Striking it down would be a sign of great fortune." His voice was filled with anticipation, the promise of the hunt renewing his vigor.
Aegon, though not as enthralled by the idea of the hunt as his father, nodded in acknowledgment. He knew the significance the White Hart held in his father's mind, and today would be no different. The White Hart was a symbol of divine favor, a beast of myth and legend said to appear only to those worthy of kingship. It was rare, elusive, and a prize beyond measure for any who caught a glimpse, let alone slew it.
As the conversation shifted to the upcoming hunt, Aegon and Rhaenyra quietly settled into their roles once more, their earlier mischief hidden behind the veil of royal duty. The world continued to turn, unaware of the deep, mystical connection they had forged in the quiet of the night. The Old Gods seemed to watch over them now, their unseen presence a reminder that they were on a guided but untreated path for over a century, one that would challenge the very fabric of the world they knew, as it's like had done before.
The great hunt had begun, and the air crackled with excitement as Aegon, Rhaenyra, Viserys, Ser Harold, and two other Kingsguard ventured into the woods. The sun had risen, casting a golden light through the mist that hung over the land. The scent of pine and damp earth filled their lungs as they made their way deeper into the ancient forest. Lords and their retinues had scattered in various directions, each hoping to claim the glory of the hunt for themselves, leaving the royal party to explore together.
As they traversed the uneven terrain, Rhaenyra's gaze drifted across the landscape. A vast swathe of forest stretched out before them, the eastern coastline visible in the distance, kissed by the shimmering waves of the sea. The beauty of it struck her, and she felt a sense of peace amidst the chaos of court life.
"Now this is beauty, even I must admit," Viserys said, taking a deep breath as he surveyed the scenery. "The keep's gardens are home to flora from all across the Kingdoms and Essos, but this… still somehow dwarfs it."
Just as the tranquility of the moment enveloped them, a primal roar shattered the stillness of the woods. The sound echoed like thunder, reverberating through the trees. Out of the underbrush charged a brown bear, larger than any they had ever seen. The bear's massive frame barreled toward a mounted Kingsguard who was stationed too close to the edge of the cliff.
"Aegon!" Rhaenyra shouted, panic rising in her voice.
Without hesitation, Aegon leaped forward, pulling the Kingsguard from his mount just as the bear smashed into the horse, sending it tumbling over the edge of the cliff. The mount fell, its cries echoing into the depths of the forest below. Aegon's heart raced, adrenaline surging through him.
"RETREAT!" he bellowed, drawing his sword as the others quickly formed a protective circle around Viserys.
"I'LL KEEP IT BUSY!" Aegon informed Harold, igniting a small lick of fire in his palm to draw the creature's attention.
"NOT WITHOUT YOU, MY PRINCE!" Ser Harold affirmed, stepping forward to aid him.
Rhaenyra took aim with the Goldenheart bow, her breath steadying as she focused on the thrashing beast. She released the arrow, watching it fly true, striking the bear's paw and lodging itself deep within. The beast roared in fury, its attention momentarily diverted.
"A lousy fucking shot…" Rhaenyra scoffed before nocking another arrow, a mixture of frustration and fear dancing in her eyes as she realized the danger they were all in.
Aegon felt his heart race as he glanced down at the bear's side, a barbed shaft protruding from beneath its fur. This was the work of another hunter, a shot gone awry that had now turned the it into a raging force.
The Kingsguard swiftly retreated, escorting Viserys with them as Aegon stood firm, fire swirling around him. He reached his left hand out, unleashing a torrent of flames, engulfing the bear in a searing blaze that made its flesh sizzle. The creature howled in agony, thrashing wildly as smoke poured from its fur.
Aegon cut off the flames, taking advantage of it's stunned state. He drove Blackfyre through its skull with precision, pinning it to the ground. The forest fell silent, the aftermath of the confrontation hanging in the air like a shroud.
"Are you alright?!" Rhaenyra called, her voice tinged with concern as she ran over.
"I'm fine… someone pissed the damn thing off!" Aegon replied, his frustration spilling over as he looked down at the slain bear.
Rhaenyra followed his gaze, her expression shifting from worry to something more contemplative. "Aegon… look."
He turned, his heart catching in his throat as he saw it: a magnificent White Hart standing at the edge of the clearing, its coat glistening like fresh snow in the morning sun. The creature was a vision of ethereal beauty, towering over any natural buck, its presence almost regal, as though it had just stepped forth from another world. It regarded the twins with a knowing gaze before it slowly turned and trotted away, disappearing into the depths of the forest.
A heavy silence was left in it's wake, until sound that shattered the moment once more, a small, sorrowful cry emanating from the thicket. A bear cub emerged hesitantly from the underbrush, its small body trembling as it approached the corpse of its mother. The sight tugged painfully at Aegon's heart, a pang of guilt washing over him.
Just as Aegon took a step forward, Kevin Lannister burst into the clearing, his expression one of horror. "Oh dear… M-my apologies, your grace… My bow arm isn't as precise as I'd like to admit," he stammered, the knot in his throat evident as he took in both the scene, and Aegon's death stare.
Aegon's eyes blazed with fury, not only at Kevin's careless shot but also at the reality of the bear cub's despair. Without saying a word, he strode over to the lord, his guards hesitating to act as he was grabbed by the scruff of the neck like a kitten, dragged over to the cliff.
"Down there, lay a splattered horse that served a Kingsguard, It held more worth then a thousand of you!" Aegon's voice dripped with venom as Kevin cried upon realizing he now was dangling over a thirty plus meter drop.
"PLEASE MY PRINCE! I WAS A FOOL, TOO QUICK TO THINK OF ONLY GLORY! PLEASE!"
"Aegon!" Rhaenyra called out, causing him to contemplate for a moment before throwing Kevin back onto the ground next to him, having scared more then the daylights out of him.
The cub whined again, nuzzling its mother's lifeless body, oblivious to the chaos around it. Aegon felt a swell of protectiveness surge within him, knowing that the creature was now vulnerable and lost in a world humans had turned cruel in an instant.
Rhaenyra approached, placing a calming hand on Aegon's arm, her voice soothing. "We can't leave it here. It will surely die without her."
Viserys stepped forward, having not intervened in Aegon's near murder, or lesson depending on ones opinion. His expression was serious as he took in the cub's plight. "It would only be right to put it out of it's misery, but I know it will not be the case in the end my boy."
Aegon's anger simmered down beneath the surface, but he knew Rhaenyra was right. Determination crossed Aegon's face . "We'll take it with us, help it grow and find a place to belong."
As the group gathered around the cub, Aegon felt the weight of their actions hanging heavy in the air. In this moment of fragility, surrounded by the aftermath of violence, they faced an opportunity to show compassion, to nurture life in the face of loss. The prince picked it up, wrapping it in his cloak as it wailed against him.
"I'm sorry, little one, for I have taken everything from you, but I make this choice now in hope one day...you can forgive me. I will find you a place, I promise" He whispered while gently stroking it's bristly dark brown fur.
In the silence that followed, they understood that the hunt was not merely about glory or conquest. It was a reminder of the fragile balance between life and death, and the bonds they could forge in a world filled with darkness.
"My Prince... I owe you my life, in more ways than simply my oath," Ser Lorant Marbrand stated, his voice heavy with gratitude as they made their way back along the forested path, the echoes of the morning's events still fresh in the air.
Aegon, his face set in an expression of weariness, waved off the knight's words. "Concern yourself not, Ser. It was simply instinct," he replied, his tone clipped, offering little for conversation. His thoughts were elsewhere, the cub, on the White Hart's silent message, and on the underlying tensions of the hunt. The morning had proven more drama than it was worth, except for the profound confirmation the twins had received. In that fleeting moment of primal violence and ethereal peace, it seemed they had been looked upon favorably by forces greater than they could comprehend.
Ser Harold Westerling, ever vigilant and now walking at Viserys' side, leaned slightly toward the king as they navigated the forested trail. "Your Grace, should we be concerned about the rumors that might spread from this?" His tone was cautious, though the undercurrent of concern was evident.
Viserys sighed, glancing toward Aegon and Rhaenyra walking ahead, their figures partially obscured by the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. "Well, if none speak of it, it won't be so, but we know better. Let tongues wag, it changes nothing" he replied after a moment, though his voice lacked conviction. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the weight of the day's events starting to press down on him. "I cannot lie, Ser. I was contemplating such a thing the moment I set eyes on the Lannister."
Ser Harold nodded but said nothing further, his face grim. Viserys had never been one for politics of this kind, but the matter of Kevin Lannister's careless shot, and what it could potentially mean, gnawed at him. There was a sense of brewing tension among the lords only countless hours in the small council illuded to, a subtle shift in the air that spoke of rivalries stoked by whispers rather than outright declarations. The Lannisters were only some of the most obvious amongst the ambitious, always maneuvering, and the bear incident might give them fuel for more dangerous actions.
Ahead, Aegon remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the path, but his mind continued to circle the same thought: the White Hart. It had appeared at such a significant moment, following the bear's death and the discovery of its cub. Its serene presence had been an answer, a sign from...something whether Old Gods or something else, that they were on the right path. Aegon had felt it deep within his bones.
Rhaenyra walked beside him, her hand brushing against his arm as if seeking reassurance. She, too, was still processing the encounter. She had been taught from a young age that the White Hart was a symbol of divine favor, a blessing from the gods themselves. To have it appear before them now, after so many hunts and fruitless searches by her father, was no mere coincidence.
"What do we do with the cub?" Rhaenyra asked softly, breaking the silence between them. She glanced over her shoulder at the small creature in his arms, its whimpers barely audible over the rustling leaves. "It'll need care, protection. It's still so young."
Aegon glanced back at the cub, his heart softening despite the bloodshed of the morning. "We'll take it back with us," he said, his voice resolute. "It's our responsibility now."
The cub, though it had lost its mother in a cruel twist of fate, had found a new family in them, a likely temporary one, but one nonetheless. For Aegon, it was more than just an orphaned animal; it was a symbol of their bond, of the choices they made together.
As they walked on, the rustling of leaves and distant calls of the hunt faded into the background. The world around them felt different now, more alive with meaning.
Arriving back at the camp, the couple found solace in the familiar comfort of their children. The warm embrace of family was always a welcome reprieve from the chaos of royal life, and today had been a particularly trying one. The sight of Baelon and Visenya sleeping soundly brought soft smiles to their faces. Aegon knelt to stroke Visenya's cheek while Rhaenyra kissed Baelon's forehead, letting their presence soothe the day's tensions.
Before long, an envoy representing the Starks of Winterfell approached their pavilion, cutting through the relative calm. His manner was respectful and composed as he bowed deeply, his dark grey cloak trimmed with white fur fluttering in the breeze.
"Your grace, princess," he began, "It has come to my attention that you are conflicted on the path for the bear cub you have taken in, but I believe Lord Stark could have an answer"
"Go on" Aegon sighed, not at all surprised at how quickly word spread.
"If his grace deems fit, I could have word sent to my Lord, inquiring as to wether he would be willing to foster the cub in search for a proper place to it. If I may humbly state my thoughts on the matter, the Mormont's of Bear Island would be a optimal place to start" The envoy informed.
Aegon listened attentively, his mind already weighing the possibility. The Starks were known for their connection to the land and the creatures within it. Their rumored ancient bond with wolves might not only hold true, but extend to other wild beasts like such as possibly bears. But, more importantly, the fostering of the cub at Winterfell would be a gesture of goodwill between the North and the Crown, a subtle strengthening of alliances. The cub could thrive in the vast wilderness of the North, raised among the cold and the wolves.
"A most gracious offer, one I am sure would not be seen as your place, but thoughtful regardless," Aegon replied, his tone grateful. "But for now, the cub will remain with us, under our care. I will write a formal statement to Winterfell, one stating not only your appreciated assistance in the matter, but would be kept with their Maester as a record, should any questions of legitimacy or likewise regarding the situation. If there isn't anything else, you are free to go" Aegon smiled as the envoy bowed before taking his leave.
"Honorable of him" Rhaenyra nodded.
"Northerners are rare to disappoint. I wish more of their like filled the courts" Aegon replied.
He had grown fond of the small creature in the short time it had been with them. The cub, which Aegon had noted earlier as "Fluffy," slept peacefully at his feet, its small body curled into a ball of brown fur. It had accepted a modest offering of meat and berries earlier, a sign that it was willing to settle into its new surroundings. Lord Tarly, a seasoned hunter and a veteran of many royal hunts, had commented that the cub was at an age where its appetite for such food was normal, a reassuring note for its well-being.
Aegon leaned back in his seat, watching as the morning sun began to shift, casting long shadows across the camp. The peaceful sight of the sleeping cub brought an unexpected sense of calm to his heart, easing the residual tension from the hunt. Rhaenyra sat beside him, her gaze following his. The cub, though orphaned and lost, had found a place with them for the time being, a symbol of the day's trials and the unspoken bond it had reinforced between the twins.
As the camp stirred around them, preparing for the rest of the day's activities, Aegon reached down to gently stroke it's soft fur. "You've found a place with us for now," he murmured to the creature, a quiet promise of protection. "Until we find you a new home."
The night was peaceful, a gentle contrast to the day's intensity, and the royal tent was filled with a warmth that came not from a hearth but from the closeness of family. Aegon and Rhaenyra lay in bed, their bodies bare and intertwined under the light sheet, the soft glow of lanterns flickering gently in the corners of the tent. Between them, nestled in her father's arms, lay little Visenya, her tiny chest rising and falling with each rhythmic breath. The infant princess, known for her famous restless nights, had hardly stirred. It seemed the calm atmosphere of the forest and stories of benevolent forest spirits whispered throughout the day, had granted her a rare calm.
Rhaenyra's voice broke the stillness, soft and filled with a quiet melancholy. "These people truly don't deserve you," she murmured, her eyes tracing Aegon's profile in the dim light. There was an underlying sadness in her words, an understanding of the struggles and sacrifices she believed Aegon made, his compassion and dedication inspired many, also went unappreciated by just as many others.
Aegon turned his head slightly, offering her a faint smile as he replied. "I wouldn't take it to heart that greatly, my love. Conflicts of all kinds, contention especially, are common in this environment. It is what we were dealt, and one I'm sure many smallfolk would trade for in a heartbeat." He paused for a moment, contemplating. "To deal with what we often see as challenges...it would be nothing to them."
Rhaenyra shifted closer, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. "Perhaps we should take that retreat back to the Stepstones earlier than we planned. A tent seemed fine then, and it's fine now. We could fish, travel around the islands..."
"Kill pirates," Aegon chuckled, the memory of their shared battles bringing a small smirk to his face. Rhaenyra laughed softly in response, her eyes lighting up with the same mischievous glint she often carried during their youthful adventures.
"We did that well, better than we can say for hunting, still a certain as far as today was concerned," she teased.
Aegon joined in her laughter but soon grew more contemplative. "I have no doubt we'll be dragged out again tomorrow. Father is relentless in his pursuit of the Hart. A small part of me hopes he doesn't find it." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "He seeks confirmation of something he already has. Despite what we witnessed today, I don't feel hypocritical in saying he shouldn't feel the need of that validation."
Rhaenyra sighed, her hand resting gently on Visenya's soft, downy hair. "But perhaps there is some great stag out there, trembling before the idea of my accuracy," she joked, her voice lilting with amusement.
Aegon laughed heartily, his deep, warm voice filling the tent. "I imagine any creature in those woods would be more terrified of your aim than my fire, my love." His mirth was cut short as Visenya stirred between them, her small fists clenching and unclenching as she let out a tiny, sleepy whimper.
"Don't worry, I've got her," Aegon whispered, pressing a tender kiss to Rhaenyra's forehead before rising from the bed. His tall, muscular frame was silhouetted against the dim light as he carefully lifted Visenya into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. He rocked her softly, swaying back and forth in a rhythm that always seemed to calm her as it appeared his mothers instruction had finally begun paying off. "Shhh, sh sh," he softly shushed soothingly, his voice a low hum of reassurance. "My little princess, you have all the time in the world to make your opposition to cotton over linen known in the days to come."
Rhaenyra watched him, her heart swelling at the sight. In that moment, all the burdens of royalty seemed to fade away yet again, replaced by the simple beauty of father and daughter. Aegon's tenderness, his love for their children, was a sight she never tired of, even after all these months. She smiled, her expression soft and full of admiration.
"You know," she whispered as she propped herself up on an elbow, her voice carrying a note of warmth, "I have long lost count of how many times you have made me feel this way. You never fail to make my heart melt."
Aegon turned to her, smiling back, his eyes reflecting the same love. "There is much more to come my love," he replied softly, continuing to sway with Visenya, who was now fully asleep, her small head resting comfortably against his chest.
The night stretched on, quiet and serene, as the royal family enjoyed the fleeting moments of peace in each other's company. Outside, the campfires flickered, casting shadows among the trees as Viserys and Aemma sat alone by the fire, but inside, the world was still, just a man, a woman, and their child, wrapped in the warmth of love.
The fire crackled with an almost hypnotic rhythm, the flames casting flickering shadows across the royal tent, as Viserys and Aemma sat together in the deep silence of the night. The warmth from the blaze seemed to seep into their bones, but despite the comfort, Viserys wore an expression heavy with the weight of his thoughts. He cradled baby Baelon gently in one arm, his grip protective as the infant slept peacefully against his chest, while a goblet of wine rested in his other hand, only half-drunk yet enough to loosen his tongue.
Aemma, ever attuned to her husband's moods, tilted her head toward him, her eyes filled with concern. "What troubles you, my love?" she asked softly, her voice carrying the tenderness of a wife who had long shared both the joys and the burdens of her husband's reign.
Viserys sighed deeply, staring into the fire as if the flames held the answers to the questions that had plagued his mind for years. His thoughts were muddled by the wine and the exhaustion of the short yet eventful hunt, but there was something deeper gnawing at him, a fear that had long been festering beneath his dreams and ambitions.
"I look back on our past, our endless happiness," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "and I realize how foolish I may have truly been." He paused, his gaze distant, as though reliving moments long since passed. "When Rhaenyra and Aegon were still young, just children, not long after Aegon bonded with Vermithor, I had a dream, Aemma. One as vivid as these very flames."
Aemma listened intently, her hand reaching out to rest on shoulder, grounding him in the present even as his mind drifted to the past.
"In that dream," Viserys continued, "Aegon, his air of stoicism unmistakable, wore the Conqueror's crown, as he does now. He sat upon the Iron Throne, the weight of the Seven Kingdoms on his shoulders, and the bells of the Grand Sept tolled. All the dragons... all of them... roared as one." He looked down at Baelon in his arms, his voice lowering to a whisper, almost as if afraid to give life to the thoughts he harbored. "My dream, Aemma... it has come true, all of it. Aegon... this tale was never concerned us, but only him"
The crackle of the fire filled the silence that followed. Viserys' voice broke as he spoke, the weight of his realization settling heavy in his chest. "And the weight he must bear... no matter how much of the world he can bear... as a father, I cannot imagine him going through it. I fear... I fear what it will take from him, what it will do to him."
His eyes welled with tears as he looked down at the infant Baelon, his tiny form so vulnerable, so full of promise as Aegon's brother and grandsire, the name he'd passed to his son. But to Viserys, his grandson was also a reminder of the fragility of life, of how easily it could be cut short. The dream of his boy's future haunted him, a future tied to prophecy, and a question that had plagued him since his youngest child's birth. Was Aegon the only one meant to live? Was the price of the gods' certainty in his heirs legacy the loss of his other children?
Aemma's heart ached for her husband. She saw the pain, the doubt, the fear that clouded his eyes, and though she shared some of those same worries, she knew the strength of their family, the unity that held them together.
"It is not just your dream that will hold him, hold them up, Viserys," Aemma spoke, her voice firm yet compassionate, "but us, their family. His sister, his children, even his uncle, all of us. We have been the bedrock for one another."
She leaned closer, placing a hand gently over the goblet that sat in his hand before casting it into the flames, urging him to focus on the love that surrounded them. "Whatever weight Aegon may bear, he will never bear it alone. We won't allow it. We will stand beside him, just as he would for us."
Viserys' brow furrowed as he listened, his chest tightening at Aemma's words, for they were both a comfort and a stark reminder of the stakes at hand.
Aemma's gaze turned fierce, though her love for him remained clear. "One cannot imagine the agony that would descend if something were to drag our boy into that darkness," she said, her tone holding an edge of urgency. "It would be the beginning of a long and harrowing end for the realm as he know it." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "But Viserys, stronger forces have worked against this house in the past, and they have all been found wanting in the face of it's strength. Whatever darkness comes, whatever trials may befall us, we will meet them together."
Viserys stared at her, his heart aching yet soothed by the truth she spoke. Aemma had always been his anchor, and now, more than ever, he needed her reassurance. His hand tightened around hers as he nodded slowly, the fire casting long shadows across their faces.
"You're right," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Aegon... he's stronger than I ever was, the very best of those past, even those he never knew. And Rhaenyra by his side, they will whether it all.
The fire crackled on, the night deepening around them, but within the warmth of their shared strength, Viserys found a small measure of peace. He held Baelon a little closer, the baby murmuring in his sleep, and as Aemma leaned her head against his shoulder, they sat together in the quiet.
The next morning.
The morning sun filtered through the trees as the royal family gathered once again for breakfast, the crackle of the campfire mixing with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Aegon, Rhaenyra, Viserys, Aemma, and their children sat together, joined this time by Otto and Alicent. The atmosphere seemed calm, peaceful even, though there was an thin film of unspoken tension beneath the surface. The events of the previous night and the day that followed, the bear, the cub, the sighting of the White Hart, were still fresh in the twins minds, but these were not the only secrets that hung in the air.
Aegon, Rhaenyra, and Viserys expertly masked the truths they now carried, truths that weighed on their hearts and minds. Aegon, in particular, was consumed by thoughts of the future, like an enemy overstaying their welcome in the parlay tent. Thoughts of the inevitable day when he would have to ascend the Iron Throne lingered. That day, though still distant, loomed over him like a dark cloud, and though he carried the weight of his destiny with remarkable grace, it did not mean he welcomed it.
As he silently chewed his food, his gaze flickered to Otto. The Hand of the King, a man who had served his father for many years, sat across from him with his usual stoic demeanor. Otto's presence always stirred something in Aegon, a simmering distrust that had been growing steadily over the years. It wasn't just his cold, calculating nature, but the sense that Otto had always sought to place his own interests above those of the crown. Aegon knew his father had grown weary of the Hand's counsel, and though Viserys continued to tolerate Otto's presence, the cracks in their relationship had been clear for some time.
Otto, for his part, seemed unaware, or perhaps indifferent, to the growing distance between him and the king, perhaps from having served three of them, never to be a fourth. He carried on with his duties, maintaining the façade of loyal service, but Aegon could see the cracks, the subtle signs of self-interest in his every move, something he alone didn't display, but demonstrated above all others. He saw it in the way Otto handled matters of court, how he tried to slither between the business of himself and Daemon regarding Sapphira's egg, in how he withheld aid when it was needed most, and how he maneuvered to keep himself in a position of influence.
Aegon's mind wandered to the delicate web of court politics. He knew that the day his father relinquished the throne, either by abdication or death, would bring turmoil. His own ascension, a day that he could gladly live without for as long as possible, would be contested in one way or another, he was certain of that. The lords of Westeros held no limits on their self-importance, and he had seen firsthand how quickly alliances could shift, how ambition could breed betrayal.
Otto, ever the strategist, would no doubt play a central role in those challenges. And it wasn't just the lords Aegon needed to worry about. The protectors of the faith, the great septons and those who clung to the power of religion, would find their own champions to rally behind. His legitimacy, despite being unassailable on paper, would still be questioned in the court of public opinion, however minor. They would look for weaknesses, for convoluted reasons to oppose him, as was the way well before and after the Conqurer.
As Aegon contemplated these future challenges, his gaze briefly shifted to Alicent, who sat quietly at Otto's side. The arrangement between them was yet another secret, one they had carefully planned, considered and guarded with discretion. He thought to their shared understanding, the future they had woven together beneath the surface of politics. For now, it remained hidden, a secret that would only be revealed when the time was right.
Rhaenyra, sitting beside him, offered a small smile, though her eyes carried a knowing look. She, too, was fully aware of the intricate dance they were all engaged in. The two of them had long been partners in navigating the treacherous waters of royal politics, and this was no different. For now, their plans would remain concealed, hidden behind the calm, untroubled facade they presented to the world. There was no need to rush the reveal, no need to upset the delicate balance of power just yet.
The conversation at the table was polite, superficial. Viserys, still weary from the events of the previous day, spoke little, though he shared a few thoughts on the upcoming hunts and the state of the realm. Otto, ever the...dutiful Hand, chimed in with his suggestions, his voice steady and measured. But beneath it all, Aegon's mind continued to race with thoughts of the future.
He knew that rebellion, while not yet existent, was always a possibility in this new realm. The realm was as unpredictable as the sea, and even though there were no current whispers of dissent, it was only a matter of time before someone would find a way to challenge. It was inevitable. The question was not if, but when. And when that time came, Aegon would be ready. He had learned much in his years at court, how to read people, how to understand their motivations, and most importantly, how to play the game.
Aegon's lips curled into a slight smirk as he considered this. Yes, he had learned the heart of the matter, where loyalties truly lay. And when the time came to reveal their plans, to make the moves they had long been preparing for, he would not be caught off guard. The court could play its games, the lords could scheme and plot, but Aegon Targaryen had learned well. And when the time came, he would be the one to emerge victorious.
For now, though, he would keep his secrets, play his part, and wait for the right moment to strike.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Ilikefords44445555
Ilikefords44445555 For anyone confused with the scene of Aemma and Viserys and may be unaware or forgotten, Viserys and Aemma had Baelon, Aegon and Rhae's baby brother who died like he did in canon. In his and his grandfathers honor, Aegon named their son the same. Apologies if that was at all confusing, and thank you all for 100k views! I hope 10K words is as worth it to you as it didn't feel to write!
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