✶|𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺|✶ 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯

✶𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 45✶

――✴✯✴――

The Return of the Young Dragon

――✴✯✴――

✯Aegon's pov✯

Year 134 A.C

Westeros

The Harbor, King's Landing

He was there... In the flesh, in front of Aegon's eyes. No phantom of memory, no cruel trick played by grief or longing. 

Viserys.

Baela and Rhaena were just as frozen as he was, eyes wide, mouths slightly parted, trying to decide if they were trapped in some waking dream or if this was truly happening.

The brother Aegon had left behind...

The boy he had failed to save when their ship was attacked, when chaos and fire had separated them. 

The boy whose face had haunted Aegon's dreams for years, crying out, reaching for him in the smoke, only for Aegon to flee. 

Every night since, Aegon had lived and died in those dreams, punished by his own cowardice, terrified of what might have happened to Viserys.

And yet, here he was. 

Taller now. Lean, but alive, his pale hair glinting in the sun, dressed in fine silks that spoke of Free City coin. And a smile. A smile on his lips as he stepped toward Aegon.

"This isn't real..." Aegon murmured, breath catching, voice cracking under the weight of it.

"It's real, brother..." Viserys said softly, his voice familiar and strange all at once, older but carrying the same undertone Aegon remembered from a lifetime ago.

A single tear slipped from Aegon's eye. Then another. And without thought, without care for the lords, ladies, and gawking smallfolk surrounding them.

Aegon closed the distance and threw his arms around his long-lost brother.

The harbor erupted into applause and cheers at the reunion, the court pleased by the sight of lost kin returned. Rhaena was crying openly now, her hands clasped to her mouth. 

Baela wore a small, cautious smile, though her gaze flickered between Viserys and her husband, who was meeting their daughter for the first time, still wary.

But Aegon heard none of it. The world narrowed to the desperate, bone-deep embrace he gave his brother. His hands clutched at Viserys's back, his face burying into his shoulder, terrified that if he let go, this too would fade like all the other dreams.

"I thought I lost you..." Aegon whispered, his voice breaking completely.

"You never did..." Came Viserys's quiet reply.

Aegon stepped back slightly, though his hands remained firmly on his brother's arms, his gaze roaming over Viserys's face, taking in every difference and every trace of the boy he'd once known. 

The jawline sharper, the shoulders leaner but no longer those of a child. His silver hair was cropped just past his shoulders, his eyes, that distinct Targaryen violet, carrying a weariness beyond his years.