His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-two

Author's Note: I just wanted to thank all of you for the warm welcome back from my vacation. It was nice not having to stress about a deadline and just being able to write. Sometimes I forget I'm in control of things, lol. Alright, besties, I hope you have some tissues on standby cause you're going to need them. Happy reading! xD

P.S. If you want to get into the mood for this chapter, I recommend listening to these songs: The Willow Maid by Erutan and The Stolen Child by CLANN, which is also the song I pictured in my head when the reader saw Lyra and Sara's heads. 

Chapter Warnings: angst, like severe angst.

"Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again." - Homer, the Iliad.

The notes of a bard's oud filled the small expanse of Aegon's solar, playing a lively tune at Princess Helaena's request. You picked at the roasted lamb chops with your two-pronged fork, halfheartedly attempting to skewer it in place as Aegon watched the nursemaids feed his children spoonfuls of peas and applesauce, a stomach-churning combination for those with a palette not less than two years old.

Your belly was painfully empty, having not eaten since before noon. Your arm was too weak to lift the dining utensils, your jaw too tired to chew the meats and vegetables placed before you. Helaena noted you hadn't touched your food, playing with it as her tots would. She tried desperately to cheer you up, requesting her favorite musician to play only obnoxiously upbeat songs, hoping the melody's joy would drown out whatever troubled you. It had always helped her after a particularly irritating day.

Taking a sip of her wine, the Princess shooed the wetnurses to finish her children's dinner, stealing the chair closest to you once they moved to play with the wooden dragon and horse that rested on the floor. You eyed her warily, straightening your posture and harshly stabbing the lamb as you felt the intensity of her gaze.

Helaena did not speak for a moment, resting her pointed chin on her palm as she continued to observe you through her blonde lashes. Instead, she placed a delicate hand on your thigh, catching the attention of Aegon as she gently guided the hand holding the fork onto the table.

"What ails you, cousin? I haven't seen you this peckish since words of Prince Lucerys' flying incident," she teased, pinching your cheeks as an overbearing relative would to a young child they hadn't seen since a babe.

Luke had taken Arrax riding on a bright sunny day without the permission of the Dragonkeepers or your Mother. He thought no need to. The winds were calm, the horizon was clear, and the day peaceful... Until it wasn't. Luke had yet to realize how long he was out, losing track of which way he came and went. His young and heavily inexperienced dragon had lost the scent of home, more focused on the slaughterhouses and herds of livestock inland.

Both of them were unprepared to fly unaccompanied. After nearly twelve hours on dragon back, Rhaenyra and Syrax had found her son and mount cowering beneath the leafy coverings of a maple tree, surrounded by resting sheep.

You hummed at Helaena's jest, eyes flicking to Aegon before returning to your plate. "Discussing with the Council members was rather strenuous today," you partially lied. Lord Wylde's degradation had certainly worked you up, but it wasn't the cause. You swallowed the guilt and the truth, subconsciously chewing at your lip. "Lord Jasper Wylde insulted me deeply, and I nearly pulled a knife on him in retaliation."

Helaena's lilac orbs grew wide, shocked by the confession as Aegon chortled. My little dragon, he thought, a smirk tugging his lips.

"That isn't funny, brother!" the Princess chastized, her blonde brows furrowing together. It did little to quell his mirth, the corner of his vision crinkling. "What did he say?" Helaena proded, blissfully ignorant of the unspoken notion that you did not what to repeat it.