✶|𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺|✶ 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯

✶𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 24✶

――✴✯✴――

Ashes And Smoke

――✴✯✴――

Aegon P.o.v

Year 130 A.C

Westeros

Dragon Stone

Aegon's heart pounded as he walked beside his mother, her grip firm around his hand. The halls of Dragonstone, once a place of security, now felt suffocating, their darkened corridors heavy with betrayal. 

The hurried steps of the guards escorting them echoed ominously off the stone walls. His mother's handmaiden followed close behind, her face pale with fear, along with a handful of servants, those who had tried to flee before the trap was sprung.

They had been deceived...

Ser Alfred Broome, the man who had been entrusted with the defense of Dragonstone in their absence, had turned against them. 

The moment the usurper's fleet neared the shores, he had thrown open the gates, welcoming them inside as if they were honored guests rather than invaders. There had been no chance to fight, no warning... Only the bitter realization that their sanctuary had been sold to the enemy.

Now, they were being led to the great hall, the seat of power in Dragonstone. But Aegon knew this was no audience of honor. His mother, Queen Rhaenyra, was walking to her doom.

His fingers curled into a fist. He knew it. 

And so did she.

Much had happened in the past few weeks.

His brother, Joffrey, had died trying to save the dragons, believing he could reach them, could stop the madness that had turned men against them. 

Instead, he had fallen to his death, his body broken on the stones below, while Dreamfyre and Stormcloud barely escaped with their lives, their wings torn and bloodied...

His aunt, Helaena... Had ended her own life, throwing herself from a window onto the spikes of Maegor's Holdfast.

Lord Corlys Velaryon had been imprisoned for conspiring against the throne, stripped of his titles and power despite everything he had done for their family.

His father had vanished, fled, they whispered, disappearing with some supposed mistress while his mother sat the throne alone, clinging desperately to what little she had left.

And Aegon... 

Aegon had become her obsession.

He was her last son, her only remaining child. She kept him close, too close, as if fearing that if she so much as let him out of her sight, he too would be stolen from her.

And now, despite all her efforts, here they were, dragged through the halls of Dragonstone like prisoners in their own home, surrounded by the very men who had once sworn loyalty to their house.