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i.
The first day leading to the best day of Aegon’s life is Christmas Day. Perhaps he should say some sentimental shit about family and kindness and being appreciative for what he has. On some level, that’s fair enough. But what can he say? He loves presents.
He doesn’t know if his mother or Rhaenyra are motivated by guilt or whatever, but he’s not complaining. Last Christmas was fucking awesome. And besides, Rhaenyra is crazy rich anyways. She can spend a fortune on each kid and not even blink an eye.
Not that Aegon says this out loud, of course. His mom would swat at him and give him a stern reprimand. And he doesn’t want to ruin today. He actually likes Christmas. Of all the family bonding trips and experiences he’s been forced to undergo, this one he isn’t interested in complaining about.
The day even starts pleasantly.
“Aegon,” his mom murmurs, gently stroking his curls as she presses a kiss to his cheek. He hums and mumbles into his pillow. “Merry Christmas, my love. Time to get up.”
She leaves soon after, but Aegon forces himself out of bed. His mother has always loved Christmas as well, and this year had been no exception in how overboard she’d gone decorating. Aegon even has tinsel, holly and Santa Clauses covered all over his room. She’d been like this before Rhaenyra too, so he can’t even say that being in a healthy and loving marriage has made her overly happy or something.
Christmas music plays softly in the background as he stumbles down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes. He sniffs. Ah. Pancakes! He rushes to the kitchen, stomach grumbling, and pouts when he spots Egg already there at his mother’s side. Joff and Daeron are squabbling at the breakfast table, clad in reindeer ears that dingle with every movement. Jace and Luke are in the midst of pouring drinks, and Helaena and Aemond returns indoors, noses red from the cold.
“Just a moment!” Rhaenyra calls from upstairs, no doubt checking on Viserys.
Aegon grabs a plate from the stack on the table and hurries to the stove for first pickings.
“I was here first!” Egg complains, when Aegon’s mom fiddles with the fan.
“On the planet?” Aegon arches a brow as he stares down at him superiorly.
Egg scowls. “No.”
“Then tough.”
Once breakfast is done – which is fucking delicious by the way – they’re ushered into the main living room for presents. Even though there’s fucking eleven of them, his mother insists on them taking turns. They go in a circle, and though it takes ten thousand years to get to his gifts, Aegon is more than pleased with what he received. New headphones and a skateboard and other little trinkets from his plethora of siblings and stepsiblings.
Rhaenyra and his mother go last, and they both seem close to tears as they unveil their gifts, matching crystal swan sets all the elder kids used their pocket money and part-time wages to save for.
Aemond is the first to get up and clean once the unwrapping is over, because of course he is, the momma’s boy, but Alicent and Rhaenyra usher him to sit down. When Aegon looks, his mom is biting down on her lip.
“Just one more,” she says, and Rhaenyra returns to the room with envelopes in her hands, almost tripping over one of the stockings. She hands one to each of them, their names carefully printed out on the front. Aegon recognizes Rhaenyra’s neat, curly print. Despite his mother’s obsession for neatness and order, she has the worst handwriting he’s ever seen.
Aegon feels the material. He can’t feel any bulge or something. No keys to a new car just for him, much to his internal dismay. When all the envelopes are handed out, Rhaenyra whips out two for her and Alicent as well.
“On the count of three,” the moms say together. “One, two, three—”
Aegon rips his open quickly, frowns at the sheet of paper. The small font. He brings it up close, reads closely. Taylor Swift – the Eras Tour- Eleven tickets, this March—
His mind grows blank. Stunned. Numb. And then—
He screams.
“Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!”
He rushes over to his mother, engulfs her in a hug so strong she nearly topples over. Rhaenyra chuckles, which grows slightly more muffled when he hugs her too. “Thank you!”
Aegon clutches the ticket to his chest and squeals.
“Me, Rhaenyra, Egg and Viserys have row tickets,” his mom explains, “but the rest of you have floor tickets.”
If possible, Aegon beams even more. His cheeks feel like they’re about to burst. The rest of his siblings seem to snap out of their reverie, and though Helaena’s reaction is more subdued, she embraces Rhaenyra and Alicent in brief but fierce embraces.
“Holy shit, Mom,” Jace says, blinking slowly, still shocked. “You and Alicent survived the Great War.”
Aegon laughs gleefully.
“We survived the great war,” he says, clapping his hands together. “And now we get to reap the benefits. I knew Rhaenyra being insanely rich would have more perks than just free college selection.”
“Aegon!”
He ignores them, grinning wildly.
“Now,” he declares, “we all need to decide which eras we are.”
A pause.
“Dibs on Midnights!” he proclaims. “If I catch any of you wearing anything Midnights themed I will end you.”
Rhaenyra leans into Alicent.
“I didn’t know he was this much of a fan,” she whispers, watching as their children squabble over which album to ‘claim’ for their own. Viserys and Egg look happy to be there.
“Teardrops!” Viserys chants. “Teardrops, teardrops!” Which references, of course, his favourite Taylor Swift – Teardrops on my Guitar.
Aegon nods, militant. “You can have debut.”
“I like Picture to Burn!” Egg complains.
“Fine. Then you both can share debut. You’re like twins anyway.” He waves a hand dismissively before pulling up the notes app on his phone.
A faint look of horror deigns on Alicent’s face.
“I think,” she confesses quietly, “that we’ve created a monster.”
Over the next few weeks, dibs are placed on the albums. Helaena claims Folklore, Daeron Red, Luke Speak Now and Joff Fearless.
“I claim Lover,” Jace says, after watching Aegon tick off Fearless on the list he made. He’s never been one for arts and crafts, but Aegon had taken this on like a pro, whipping out Helaena’s glitters, markers and stickers to make a poster listing off all the albums and who claimed them. He’d stuck it on the fridge, though Alicent occasionally complained about the glitter sticking on the handle.
“Of course you do,” Aegon snorts. “Gotta sing those love songs for Cregan Stark.”
“Aegon.”
“Who?”
Alicent and Rhaenyra bustle into the kitchen with some shopping bags, followed closely by Aemond, still clad in his fencing uniform.
“Your friend Cregan Stark?” Rhaenyra asks, frowning at Jace. “Isn’t he older than you?”
“By one year,” Jace hisses, face beet red. “And I don’t have a crush on him.”
Aegon chuckles despite the glare Jace shoots at him.
“Aemond,” he sees, hopping on the counter, ignoring how his mother clucks her tongue at him. “There’s 1989, Reputation and Evermore left. Pick wisely.”
“I’m not picking,” Aemond declares. “And I’m not dressing up.”
Aegon scowls. “Don’t pretend like I Did Something Bad isn’t on your workout playlist.”
Aemond’s ears turn red.
“Don’t act like you’re above Taylor Swift,” Aegon advises. “She speaks to souls. Besides, if you ever want to get laid, acknowledge that pop is a genuine, valid form of music and enjoy it—”
“Aegon!” Alicent chastises. “Don’t be crude.”
“I’m also right.”
He hops off the counter, grabs a black sharpie, and ticks off Reputation.
“There, I’m deciding for you. You’re too brooding for 1989, and Evemore is too sweet for your typical music tastes.” He whirls around, points the sharpie at his parents. “That leaves you two to fight over the last options.”
“Fight over?” Rhaenyra raises her brows in amusement. “Should we whip out our swords and duel at dawn?”
“I’m sure Aemond has some spare fencing ones for you to borrow.”
Alicent laughs. “No fighting, I’m afraid. Besides, I’m claiming Evermore.”
“Oh, you are?” Rhaenyra teases.
“Yup. I have the coat that matches her album cover.”
“Very well. 1989 is more my style, anyway.”
They seal the decision with a kiss, and Aegon wrinkles his nose. The healthiness and romance of it all is so corny.
“Very well,” Aegon announces, clapping his hands together. “Now for outfits. I’ve had several pinterest boards made that I’ll share in the family chat for people to take inspiration from-“
“Gods, Helaena!” Aegon yelps, nearly shrieking as Dreamfyre slithers into his lap. All of Rhaenyra’s sons had pets prior to them moving in and before she met their mom, and had insisted on getting them some as well once their mother had agreed.
Aegon had chosen a splendid golden retriever named Sunfyre like a reasonable person.
Helaena had chosen a ball python she named Dreamfyre. Their mother only allowed her to let her out of the cage with her bedroom door firmly closed after finding Dreamfyre lounging in their bed, spooking Rhaenyra’s ginger cat Syrax, who had practically been frothing at the mouth with stress.
“She’s so fucking scary,” he says, clasping his hand over his heart.
“She’s beautiful,” Helaena coos, setting down her pair of scissors to scratch her snake’s brown and black spotted head. Aegon swallows his nausea.
“Did you finish it?” he asks eagerly, once she manages to return Dreamfyre to her cage. Helaena smiles serenely at him and nods. On the table she’s working on her own dress for the concert. Helaena has always been a fan of sowing, knitting, making her own jewellery and clothes. They often had something to do with bugs – Helaena’s first crowning achievement was a scarf she knitted full of spiders and ladybugs. She made earrings with them too, and had agreed to make Aegon some custom stuff in exchange for free rides to some conservation lectures or something.
Helaena’s chosen album was Folklore and after much deliberation, she had decided to recreate Taylor’s dress when she won album of the year for it in 2021. And she’s done a rather good job of it as well – spent weeks ordering in the right material, except Helaena has added some bug outlines on the flowers just for her own comfort.
“I did,” she confirms. She rummages through her drawers and pulls out a head circlet silver chain littered with star and moon symbols, and a pair of dangling earrings with moons at the end. Aegon beams.
“Thank you, thank you!” He beams as he admires the goods. He’d gotten his outfit already sorted out, but this helps tie up the whole thing. Everyone is being tight lipped about their outfits otherwise, though.
The door to Helaena’s bedroom swings open, revealing Aemond and Daeron.
“Dreamfyre is put away, right?” Daeron asks, right as Vhagar bolts into the room. She’s the only pet in the house that isn’t scared shitless of their sister’s snake. She hisses at Dreamfyre from her position on Helaena’s bed, overwhelmingly smug already, the cranky old cat.
“Yes,” Helaena says, twitching slightly.
Without a word, Aemond hands her one of her fidget toys. She takes it thankfully, exhaling until her limbs eventually relax.
“That your dress?” Daeron asks, sounding impressed.
She nods, blushing with pride. Aemond also nods his approval.
“What are you wearing?” he questions.
Aemond blinks at him. “I thought we were supposed to be keeping that a surprise.”
Aegon squints. “It better not be your all-black fencing uniform.”
Aemond looks away. “And if it is?”
“It smells!”
The look of outrage almost makes him take it back. “Those are especially dry-cleaned by professional tailors, excuse you—”
“Fine,” Daeron interjects. “But Aemond, you’ll probably be hot. Packed in a stadium with 50,000 people—”
“Jeans might be better,” Helaena finishes.
Aemond grunts. “Fine.”
“You also need sparkles.”
“Sparkles?”
Helaena smiles widely. “I can bedazzle a patch for you!”
The glare Aemond shoots him would kill a lesser man, but Aegon merely grins.
On the day of reckoning, Aegon wakes up unusually early.
Alicent stumbles into the kitchen clad in her green-silk robe to find her son nursing a cup of tea at the breakfast table, head bent over a list.
“Mom!” he greets, barely looking up from the list. “We need to leave at least two hours before the concert starts. Fifty thousand people are going to be driving in, or something ridiculous like that. We need to be prepared. We can’t bring any liquids or snacks in with us, so we should bring some in the car and then go to the bathroom before the show starts. It’s apparently three hours long.”
“Three hours?”
“I think so. I’ve avoided spoilers as best I can, but best to be prepared. In other words – don’t wear heels.”
Alicent blinks at him. Spoilers? For a concert? Wisely, she decides to keep her mouth shut. Aegon hums, stands, and even places a kiss in her cheek.
“Best we start getting ready soon!”
When he bounds up the stairs, she finally glances at her watch. They don’t have to leave for another for another eight hours.
There’s a bright flash of his polaroid camera that makes Aemond and Luke flinch. Aegon’s second youngest brother fiddles with his eye-patch. Helaena did her part well – she took one of Aemond’s old patched and placed silver, glimmering rhinestones on the outline. Aemond had done a surprisingly good job – he managed to find a tight black tank top to showcase his arms and a fine leather jacket with matching combat boots.
Luke had found a vintage purple tuft crop top that exposed his stomach and collarbones and matched it with bright purple jeans and white boots. Egg and Viserys wear matching denim on denim outfits with cowboy hats. Jace wears a bright pink mesh top and blue jeans with matching pink hearts littered on them, and Helaena has drawn a pink, glittery heart like on the album cover.
Daeron has recreated the 22 outfit, and Joff has decided to dress up in the renaissance era love interest from the love story music video.
And then—
“Mom! Rhaenyra!” he calls. “We’re going to be late!” Aegon has taken over a dozen polaroid’s already. He’s dressed rather amazingly himself, if he does say so. Silk navy blue blouse unbuttoned midway with silver moons literred throughout. Glittery, shiny dark pants. The jewellery Helaena made for him. Glitter on his face.
There’s the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then—
“Damn!” Aegon whistles. “You guys did great.”
His mom is wearing a floor length deep green dress with the top half seemingly made of ivy leaves. Rhaenyra is wearing Taylor’s iconic white sunglasses from the 1989 tour matched with a black sequenced top and pink peplum skirt similar to her tour outfits.
“Thank you,” Alicent says. She spots his camera. “Take one of me and Rhaenyra please.”
He does. Their cheeks are pressed together, smiles wide, faces blissfully pink.
“Before we go!” he says. “We need to get our friendship bracelets!”
“Don’t worry about them,” Rhaenyra tells her, grasping her hand. Egg and Viserys are wedged between them, chatting happily as they munch on the overpriced popcorn they bought. They’d parted with the rest of the kids at security. Doublechecked that they all had their phones; that Helaena had two pairs of ear plugs and a fidget spinner just in case. That they had spare money in case they wanted to buy snacks or merch. “They’ll be fine.”
Alicent can’t help but worry. Their seats aren’t very far from the pit, but there are so many of them. The noise is so loud already. What if Helaena needs help or is overwhelmed? What if Luke’s anxiety skyrockets? What if—
“Love,” Rhaenyra whispers, squeezing her fingers.
Alicent swallows, shoots her a smile, smooths out her dress and—
Someones taps her on the shoulder. She turns around, mildly stunned, to find a young girl – seventeen at the most, staring at her. She also seems dressed in what looks like Evermore colours.
“Your ivy dress is sick,” she tells Alicent enthusiastically. “Do you have any bets on what she’ll open with?”
Alicent pauses, mildly stunned. Almost wordless.
“Our eldest son thinks it’ll be Cruel Summer,” Rhaenyra says.
Alicent returns to herself. “I thought The One.”
The girl nods. “Respect.”
Respect?
Alicent shoots her a smile and turns back around, grabs Rhaenyra’s hand again. Her wife laughs as Viserys and Egg start to point. Super Trouper by ABBA plays on the speakers. Alicent squints as she spots exactly what has their two youngest in such hysterics.
Aegon is leading a dance line with hundreds of the fans, the rest of the children directly behind him, kicking out their legs and arms when he does as ABBA choruses in the background.
“You know,” Rhaenyra says jokingly, “he has the charisma to become President – or a cult leader.”
Alicent laughs.
Breathless, they finally disperse the dance line following the opening acts, and Aegon manages to oh so coincidentally get them as close to the stage as possible with his charm and dancing skills. Already twenty new bracelets adorn his wrist.
Helaena is sandwiched between him and Jace, humming to herself, playing with her flowery sleeves.
Behind them, Lady Gaga’s applause plays loudly.
“Just a few minutes,” he mutters. “Just a few minutes.”
And then, almost as if a sign from God himself, the lights dim. The music on the speakers die.
And the greatest three hours of his life start.
Midway through Lover, Jace cries as Cregan Stark coincidentally sends him a text.
Luke hands Aemond a ten-dollar bill.
In an act of pure adrenaline rush, Jace manages to get Joff on his shoulders during the Fearless set. Joff spends the entirety of You Belong With Me balanced on his brother’s shoulders.
Though she denies it, Alicent cries during Marjorie, and loses her voice the next day with how hard she screams to Champagne Problems.
Reputation is Aemond’s album. A hard album, maybe, but he smiles the brightest during Delicate. For all his protests about not listening to her music much or being a “fan” , he loudly screams “1, 2, 3 let’s go bitch!” right in tune with all the other hardcore fans.
Aegon hadn’t told him about that particular tradition, but he doesn’t say so.
Luke is disappointed that Speak Now only has one song dedicated on the tour, but he smiles so widely and cutely during the song that two girls ask for his number.
Daeron and Joff perform a highly choreographed dance number during the Red set. Multiple people take videos of them.
During the Folklore set, they take turns shielding Helaena from the pushing crowd, spinning her under their arms. Joff snaps a picture of her staring at Taylor Swift, stars in her eyes.
Rhaenyra dances her heart out to 1989, and Alicent makes the photo she took of her her lock screen, giggling at the sight of her sunglasses.
Egg and Viserys are put on their hips for the surprise song section and scream their little hearts out when she sings Our Song.
Aegon cries the entire Midnights section. Ugly, hysterical sobs. They all hug him.
It takes two hours for them to get out of the parking lot. Throats sore, exhausted, and hungry, they all seem speechless.
Rhaenyra sighs and turns on the ac.
“Anyone want pizza?”