✦ New Faith ✦ Aegon Targaryen

○ thirty four ○

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I linger in the godswood, gazing up into the dimming sky as dusk settles, casting the branches in shadows and soft light. My heart feels anchored here in this quiet, away from the world’s duties and its whispers of throne politics and schemes. I lose track of time, my thoughts wrapped around the life growing within me, wondering who this child will be. I imagine their face, whether they will inherit my coloring or be marked by the unmistakable Targaryen features. For a moment, I feel an unexpected, fierce protectiveness. A life that’s half mine—a life I must shield, no matter the cost.

After a time, Ser Davian, who’s been silently standing nearby, clears his throat. “Princess, it’s getting late. Would you like to retire for the night?”

I turn to him, studying his face in the fading light. His warm, tan complexion and fiery hair are refreshing, a striking contrast to the pale Targaryen features I’m so used to seeing.

“Yes, let’s go,” I murmur, feeling the weight of the day sink into my bones. Realizing I’ve missed dinner, my stomach rumbles softly, the hunger reminding me of the strange cravings I’ve had lately.

“Ser Davian, would you mind asking a handmaiden to bring me a few apples?” I ask as we head to my chambers.

“Of course, Princess,” he replies with a respectful nod and disappears down the hall to arrange it.

In my chambers, I undress, slipping into a soft nightgown and pausing by the mirror. I turn slightly, inspecting the subtle curve of my belly. My hand instinctively drifts down, fingers tracing gently over the rounded shape. There it is again, that fierce feeling—the need to guard, to protect. I’m unsure how I’ll do it, but I know I must.

The handmaid soon arrives with the apples, crisp and red, just as I’d been craving. As I take a bite, the sweetness floods my senses, and I sigh in relief, almost moaning with the satisfaction of it.

Settling into the chair by the fire, I pull a book from the small shelf nearby and begin to read, savoring each slice of apple as I lose myself in the pages. The fire crackles softly, the warmth lulling me into a sense of peace. The quiet night feels like a shelter around me, a momentary escape from the whirlwind of court life.

But that peace shatters abruptly. The chamber door swings open, crashing against the wall as Aegon stumbles in, his face flushed from wine, eyes bright with anger.

“Tanda!” he slurs, his voice loud and biting. “Where were you tonight? You left me to sit at that bloody dinner alone!”

I close my book slowly, watching him as he stumbles closer, swaying with each step. “I… I didn’t think my absence would matter,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, though my heart is racing.

“Didn’t matter?” He scoffs, a dark laugh rumbling from his throat. “I’m your husband, or have you forgotten?”

I set the book aside, standing to face him. “It’s hard to forget when every night you remind me with the smell of wine clinging to you,” I reply, my words sharper than I intend.

Aegon glares, but the anger in his eyes flickers into something else—something wounded. “You think it’s easy for me?” he mutters, his voice breaking slightly. “To be what they want? To be what they expect?” He laughs, a hollow sound. “And now, you’re ignoring me too.”

“Aegon…” I reach for him instinctively, my hand resting against his arm. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

His eyes search mine, the anger fading, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. But I can’t hold back what’s been pressing on my heart, something he needs to know—something that will change everything.

“Aegon, I’m with child,” I say softly, my hand drifting protectively over my belly.

He stares at me, the meaning of my words seeming to sink in slowly. “A child?” he whispers, his voice tinged with surprise and something almost like fear.

“Yes.” I feel a surge of emotions as I say it out loud

Aegon’s hand hesitantly reaches for my shoulder, his fingers grazing my skin as if unsure. “You… really?” he murmurs, his usual bravado gone, replaced by something more real, more vulnerable.

“Yes,” I nod, tears pricking my eyes. “I’m scared, Aegon. My mother lost children—miscarriages… so many, and I fear… I fear I’ll lose this child too.”

Aegon swallows, looking down, his hand resting against my shoulder with a shakey firmness. “Then we’ll protect them,” he says, his voice low and slurring but filled with a surprising conviction.

I don’t know if he’s making a promise he can keep, but in this moment, I let myself believe it, resting my head against his shoulder as we stand there together

After a while of holding each other I look up and guide him to the bed where we fall asleep