━━━━ aegon targaryen ii.
she is not her father's daughter and he is not the prince that was promised. and with all the chaos brought by the dance started by their family, there is always each other.
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tw for this chapter: daemon is his own tw tbh, predatory behaviour, signs of domestic abuse, mentions of infidelity, and kidnapping.
113 AC
The royal wedding between his half-sister, Princess Rhaenyra, and one Lord Laenor is the first marriage Aegon will witness as a lad of six name days. (However, that won't be the case since the children are not given the signal to attend any single one of the one-week celebrations except for the wedding itself, being too young for an affair that invited almost all of the Houses in King's Landing.) It also means having to stand on a platform and have fabrics fitted to you and have pins poking through, which is something he doesn't want. One silver lining, however, is seeing his Aesira being fitted for her gowns. He overhears Mother saying that since Aesira and her brothers are now staying under her and Father's careful watch, they would receive pieces of clothing that will suit their liking.
"Aegon, what are you still doing here?" Mother asks him after he makes himself comfortable on one of the chairs in her solar, a poorly-concealed look of confusion begins pulling on the muscles under her skin. Aether has already long gone to tend to Daemian (in extension, Daeron, Aegon's newest sibling), seeing as the girls are having their turns choosing their favourite colours from the variety of fabrics. She bites her cheek before continuing, "Shouldn't you be with Aether heading back to the nursery? I assume you two are going to prepare for the day's schedule because I do not recall receiving requests of permission for the Maesters to take a day off."
Of course, how can Aegon forget his daily lessons on history and sums? Purely boring rubbish, honestly. Maester Orwyle talks a lot (though Aegon is thankful that he's not as forceful as some of the Maesters loitering around the Keep) and is definitely not pretty to look at. Aegon tilts his head and outwardly stares at Aesira pouting at all the fabrics laid out on the cleared-out low table. He watches as she slowly reaches out for a fabric with flower embroideries before retracting her hand and placing it under her chin for further contemplation. She then turns to Helaena, who is on the side examining a dragonfly perching on the other side of the window, to ask for her opinion. The two girls converse in hushed tones and Aegon wants to hear what they are talking about, unconsciously leaning forward as if that will aid him in having to hear a conversation a couple of feet away from him. He wants to know what causes Aesira to giggle like that.
"Aegon."
"Huh?" He blinks away from avidly admiring his Aesira and finds himself under Mother's scrutiny. "W-What is it, Mother?"
Mother sighs, never forgetting to roll her eyes. Aegon bites the inside of his cheek. She proceeds to tell him, "Why are you not in your tutoring?"
"Oh," Aegon breathes, looking down at his lap and giving Aesira one glance. His entire face burns with the heat of the sun and reaches to the tips of his ears when Mother furrows her brows and follows where his eyes are being called upon. He tightly closes his eyes the moment Mother looks at him again. He is expecting another scolding so all he can hear is his breathing. Mother is awfully quiet for no reason but she lets out a light laugh, a sound that is almost like a breath but Aegon is sure it is a laugh. He's heard Ser Criston do it countless times before when he finds something outrageously funny yet he cannot do anything to fully express his emotions. Aegon opens one eye. Mother is shaking her head. "Mother?"
