The Grey Wolf & The Golden Dragon | Aegon Targaryen II

The Weight of the Crown

Aegon

"If this is what my father truly wanted, why does it feel so fucking wrong?" Aegon asked as Alysanne straightened the collar on his doublet for the third time. It seemed she was trying to keep her hands busy, rather than actually fix his clothing.

"Because neither of us truly want this," she whispered, aware of the nursemaid who held Aelys only a few feet away. "But your grandfather is right. If this is how we keep Aelys safe, then it must be done."

"Let's just leave..." he whispered desperately, feeling like an animal being backed into a cage; stripped of all freedom. "We can mount Sunfyre, and take Aelys, and—"

"And go where, Aegon?" she asked harshly, "Winterfell? To live under my cunt of a brother? Besides, you and I both know that if we did such a thing, they would just crown Aemond, and that cunt is already self-serious enough without a crown to make his head bigger." Aegon chuckled. His wife was right, of course, there had never been another choice for them; he'd been a fool to ever imagine otherwise. "We can't leave your family to whatever fate Daemon and Rhaenyra have in store for them. And then there's Elin..."

"Of course," Aegon agreed, shaking his head. Both of them were trapped. "I'm so grateful to you, Aly," he breathed, reaching out and stroking his fingers through her hair. He loved the way her curls shone in the light; the way the dark ringlets bounced when he tugged on them.

"For what, my love?" she asked, laying the golden chain around his shoulders.

"For allowing me to forget about the burdens of my family, at least for a while. These many months since I met you have been the happiest of my life." Aly frowned at the finality of his words, her brows knitting in concern.

"We will have many more happy days, Aegon," she assured. Aegon turned away to look in the mirror, unable to meet her eye. He felt the invisible yolk of the crown, already pressing down; closing in on him and strangling the air from him; pulling everything he cared for further out of reach. He would give anything to see Rhaenyra take the throne in his place, anything except Aly and their son...

"Your mother wants to ride with you." Aly added. "I'm going to go with Hel and the others. Aegon," she cupped his jaw, forcing him to turn and look at her, "I love you, my King." He nodded and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips, but inside he was screaming, clawing desperately for the surface as reality caved in and threatened to drown him...

"Have the decency to look grateful, Aegon," Alicent chided, her voice laced with all its usual venom, "Do you know what has been done to give you this day?" He fought the urge to snort at her words. A day, an event, given to him, for the sole desires of his predecessors, not for himself. "In an hour, you will be King."

"And yet, my father never wanted this..." he replied glumly.

"That's not true," his mother insisted.

"He had twenty years to name me heir and he never did. Steadfastly, he upheld Rhaenyra's claim." There was a feeling of bitterness, acrid and sour, building in his chest as he thought of his older sister, and what they were about to do.

"He changed his mind." Alicent replied smoothly.

"Oh," Aegon chuckled wryly. Even Alysanne had insisted she'd heard the words with her own ears, but why now, after all these years, would the King waiver? "No... He could have, but he never did... because he didn't like me."

"And yet with his last breath, he whispered that you should succeed him. He desired this for you, for his firstborn son."

"Do not toy with me this way, mother," he replied miserably, trying to imagine for a single moment that his father ever cared for him even a fraction of the way he cared for Rhaenyra.