Chapter 1: Red Keep
Chapter Text
Rhaenyra walked wearily behind her little boy, her hand being tugged forward by her eldest son, Aegon.
“Mama, come on!” Aegon whined, pulling at her right hand with both of his, his small voice full of impatience.
Rhaenyra let out a tired sigh and rolled her eyes. “I’m right behind you, sweetheart,” she murmured, running her left hand gently over her belly.
She was in her final months—or rather, her final weeks.
It had become exhausting, the weight almost unbearable, as if she were carrying several children instead of one.
Since morning, Aegon had been begging her to take him to the Dragonpit so he could visit Sunfyre. But Rhaenyra knew that once Aegon stepped inside the pit, it would be nearly impossible to drag him out again—at least not until Daemon came.
Aegon adored his dragon; they were inseparable. The way he insisted on visiting Sunfyre every day and was studying High Valyrian so hard just to communicate better—it genuinely impressed Rhaenyra.
She’d been afraid for a while that Aegon might never bond with a dragon.
But pregnancy had made it painfully difficult to keep up with the boys—especially Aegon.
He could never stay still. If he didn’t climb something at least once a day, it seemed he couldn’t breathe.
And while Rhaenyra took pride in his lively spirit, right now she simply didn’t have the strength to chase him everywhere.
She gripped the railing as she descended the castle steps slowly, holding tightly to her son’s hand to keep him from tripping.
The boy was so thrilled he barely looked where he was going. The moment he saw the Dragonpit in the distance, he let go of her hand and sprinted ahead.
By the time Rhaenyra looked up, he had vanished from sight.
“What am I going to do with you, Aegon?” she sighed, taking the last steps down.
She lifted the edge of her gown slightly with one hand so it wouldn’t drag on the ground, while the other hand instinctively caressed her belly.
Across the courtyard, she spotted Ser Erryk—holding a very squirmy Aegon by the arm, trying to stop him from running away.
'Thank the gods,' she thought with relief, walking toward them.
As she reached them, the knight bowed deeply. Aegon, pointing toward his mother with his small finger, announced confidently, “Mama already knows I’m going to the Dragonpit!”
He grinned—a toothy smile missing his top front teeth, making him look impossibly cute.
Ser Erryk straightened and looked to the princess for confirmation.
Rhaenyra gave a resigned nod. “Yes, we’re going to the Dragonpit,” she said softly. She couldn’t bring herself to crush his excitement.
“My lady,” Ser Erryk said carefully, “you look tired. Perhaps I should take Prince Aegon to the Dragonpit in your stead?”
Rhaenyra was about to agree, but something felt off. “Weren’t you supposed to be training with Aemond today?” she asked, glancing around. The four-year-old was nowhere in sight.
That morning, when Daemon had come back to their chambers before leaving for the city, he’d mentioned that Aemond hadn’t seemed in the mood to train.
The boy wasn’t exactly shy, but he often avoided socializing—preferring to stay quietly among familiar faces.
That was why Aemond and Aegon rarely got along: Aegon wanted to explore the world; Aemond wanted to stay inside.
And Helaena—well, she lived in a world of her own, preferring animals and nature to people.
Ser Erryk hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I thought you already knew, my lady.”
“Knew what?” Rhaenyra tilted her head, one brow raised.
The knight swallowed nervously. “Ser Cole came for the young prince… and took him with him.”
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. For a moment, Rhaenyra couldn’t breathe.
Cole—Alicent’s obedient dog. And Alicent… she could hardly contain her hatred for Rhaenyra and her children. Rhaenyra knew it well; she could almost smell it.
“Where did he take him?” she asked sharply.
“To the queen’s chambers,” Erryk replied.
“Why would he take him there?” Rhaenyra’s voice grew tense. There was no reason for Aemond to be anywhere near Alicent’s rooms.
The knight cleared his throat and stood straighter. “Ser Ormund Hightower, the queen’s cousin, has arrived—with his one-year-old son, Lyonel. The young prince was brought there to… entertain the child.”
Rhaenyra felt her blood boil.
They’d taken her son to play the fool? To amuse them like some court jester?
Her son was a prince—not a toy.
“Once again, she’s turned him into her little clown,” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath, fury simmering in her tone. She fixed her gaze on the knight.
“You are never to let any of those damned Greens near my children again!” she hissed.
Aemond was a quiet boy, obedient to a fault, always doing as he was told. And Alicent had made him suffer for it, time and time again—using him, humiliating him, breaking him.
It wasn’t the first time she’d made him “entertain” other children, forcing him to sing or dance, despite how much he loathed attention.
And if Aegon had been there, he would’ve shouted at her, told her to stop—only for Aemond to scold him afterward for making a scene.
They always ended up fighting, those two…
Aemond had always struggled with confidence, and Alicent knew exactly what she was doing — she only did it to spite Rhaenyra. But in doing so, she was deeply wounding Rhaenyra’s little boy, and she knew it perfectly well.
Aegon called for his mother several times, but she didn’t respond — frozen in place, her face stiff with anger. He tugged gently at her skirt to bring her back to the present. Rhaenyra blinked, startled out of her thoughts, and looked down at her son.
“Mama, should I go get Aemond?” Aegon said firmly, puffing out his small chest and straightening his shoulders like a tiny knight.
'Sometimes I forget he’s only seven…' Rhaenyra thought. Aegon’s strong sense of responsibility showed just how much he loved his family. Both she and Daemon were proud of how well he was growing up — especially with Alicent still lurking around their lives.
Rhaenyra reached out and ruffled his silvery hair, trying to hide her fury behind a tired smile. “No, sweetheart. You go with Ser Erryk to the Dragonpit. I’ll go get Aemond myself.”
Aegon’s hair fell over his face as he smiled, showing his little missing teeth. “Okay, Mama! Be careful! I’ll see you at lunch!”
Before Ser Erryk could even bow properly, Aegon grabbed his hand with both of his and began pulling him along eagerly, just as he’d done with Rhaenyra earlier.
Rhaenyra watched them go with a faint smile, then turned toward the stairs again. Up those damned steps again… she thought, exhaling sharply before making her way back up.
The moment the queen’s chamber doors opened, Rhaenyra stepped inside — and froze.
Aemond was standing awkwardly in the center of the room while the others laughed at him.
The sight of all those green gowns made her temples throb.
Alicent’s smile vanished the instant she saw her. The mocking expression melted into a bitter mask — venom glinting in her eyes.
Rhaenyra strode straight to her son, snatched the mushroom-shaped cap off his head, and hurled it right into Alicent’s face.
“Enough of your little circus acts, Alicent!” she spat, pulling Aemond behind her protectively.
Alicent sneered. “And what are you doing here, Rhaenyra?” she asked, her tone sharp as she looked the princess up and down.
“Couldn’t have enough children of your own, so you use mine to fill the void?” Rhaenyra’s voice trembled with rage. “Why should my son play your fool? Why is he even here?”
She felt Aemond’s small hand tighten painfully around her fingers, his body pressing closer behind her.
He never said a word when he was uncomfortable — but right now, he was practically hiding.
Ser Ormund Hightower rose to his feet. “My queen, the boy’s grandmother—”
Rhaenyra cut him off sharply. “Since when is Alicent my mother that she gets to be my children’s grandmother? Both of their grandmothers died bringing their own children into this world! Don’t you dare claim kinship with my son. You are not our family.”
Her voice sliced through the room like steel.
Alicent gave a cold smirk. “Anyone would be ashamed to have a daughter like you.”
“Then why isn’t my father ashamed?” Rhaenyra shot back, her tone like fire. “Why is he proud instead?”
She took a step closer, her restraint barely holding. It took everything in her not to grab Alicent by the hair and throw her out the nearest window — only her father’s sake kept her in check.
Alicent’s smile widened. “Soon enough, when my son is born, we’ll see which of us has the right to pride.”
Rhaenyra laughed softly, though her voice trembled with fury. “Don’t be so sure — not about the child’s sex, and not about the child's place.”
She refused to stay another moment in that suffocating room.
Gripping Aemond’s small hand tightly, she turned and led him out, her steps echoing with anger and resolve.
Helaena was chasing a butterfly that had fluttered onto the balcony, giggling as she ran toward the railing with a big, silly smile on her face.
Aemond, as usual, preferred to sit quietly on the steps inside the room, enjoying his strawberry cake in peace.
And Aegon? He had been dragged into the room after what felt like a hundred rounds of pleading, arguing, and bargaining.
His little face was red with frustration, his arms crossed stubbornly as he stood before his mother in protest.
Rhaenyra, far calmer now than she’d been that morning, watched him with a faint smile while savoring her lemon cake and a glass of fresh lemonade.
“How long do you plan to stand there like that?” she asked lightly.
Earlier, she had reminded Aegon again to stay away from Alicent and the Greens — and to come straight to her or a trusted guard if any of them tried to approach him.
“Until you let me go back to the Dragonpit!” Aegon shouted, his adorable little frown meant to look intimidating — though it mostly made him look like an angry kitten.
Helaena turned at the sudden outburst, momentarily forgetting about her butterfly. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered over her shoulder, then looked questioningly at Aemond, who just shrugged.
So she toddled back into the room and stood beside Aegon.
“What’s wrong?” the little girl asked sweetly, looking up at her older brother with those honey-colored eyes and her usual gentle smile.
The light blue bow holding her silvery hair up matched her pale blue dress perfectly — Rhaenyra instantly knew Daemon must’ve tied it for her. The thought made her smile faintly as she took another bite of her cake.
Aegon looked down at Helaena, and just like that, the fire in his eyes faded. His lips pressed together into a straight line as he sighed.
“Nothing. I was just telling Mama I wanna go to the Dragonpit,” he said with a grin, which made Helaena smile wider, reassured that everything was fine. Then she skipped back out to the balcony after her butterfly.
“Well done,” Rhaenyra said teasingly, sipping her lemonade. “What a gentleman. You talk so gently to your sister.”
“I—I only talked nicely so she wouldn’t get scared!” Aegon stammered, fidgeting with his fingers and staring down at the floor, his cheeks pink.
“Then why don’t you talk gently to me?” Aemond asked blankly, his face unreadable.
Aegon froze, like he’d just been caught red-handed doing something wrong. His cheeks flushed even redder before he grabbed a cushion from the couch and smacked it squarely into Aemond’s head.
“Don’t get smart with me!” he barked.
Aemond muttered a sharp little “Ow!” under his breath, then snatched the cushion and whacked Aegon right back.
Rhaenyra interrupted their mock battle, her voice full of amusement. “He’s right though, Aegon — why don’t you ever talk gently to me?”
Aegon scowled, dropped the cushion to the floor, and marched toward her.
“Because Mama doesn’t get scared of anything! You don’t break, and you don’t cry. You’re like… like Mother of Steel! But Helaena’s soft — softer than a flower petal! Dad says we should be gentle with our sisters, because if we aren’t, other people will be.”
Rhaenyra raised a brow, clearly enjoying where this was going. “And you don’t like other people being kind to your sister?”
“She’s my sister! Why should they be nice to her? They can go be nice to their own sisters!” Aegon huffed proudly, standing tall. “I’m the one who’ll be kind to them. I’ll spoil them with love so they won’t need anyone else’s!”
Aemond finally looked up from his cake. “You sound like an idiot,” he said flatly.
That was all it took. Aegon launched himself at his brother with a yell, both of them tumbling into laughter and chaos, while Rhaenyra sat back, sipping her lemonade, laughing softly at the perfect answer she’d gotten.
It was nearly nightfall. Daemon still hadn’t returned to the castle, and supper was drawing near.
Rhaenyra stood before the mirror, studying her reflection carefully. Her hand went to the blue sapphire necklace at her throat, adjusting it just so. She smoothed her white satin gloves and gestured for Elinda Massey, one of her ladies, to leave the chamber.
From the dressing table, she picked up her ring — a large red ruby encircled with tiny diamonds — and tried to slip it onto her finger. But her pregnancy had made her hands swell, and the ring would not fit over the glove.
Her hair had been styled neatly, braided and coiled into a bun atop her head, and she wore a crescent-shaped blue circlet — delicate, elegant, regal.
All that remained was to wait for Daemon.
She didn’t have to wait long. The chamber doors flew open with a loud bang, slamming shut just as fiercely behind him.
Rhaenyra turned in surprise, her eyes following the restless figure of her husband as he paced the room like a storm contained in flesh.
“What is it?” she asked, lifting the hem of her gown slightly as she crossed to him. She stopped at his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Daemon ran a hand through his short hair, exhaling sharply. “The Hightowers are here,” he muttered, pacing faster.
“I know,” Rhaenyra said calmly. “What about them?”
“That bastard Gwayne,” Daemon spat, his voice rising, “said something about my mother. Called her a name that better suits his own damned whore of a mother!”
Rhaenyra frowned, moving to stand directly before him. “He did what?” she asked, her voice cold and steady.
“I told you what that bastard said,” Daemon growled, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. Then his eyes flicked up to her — from head to toe — and his anger softened into something else entirely. “You dressed up... formally.”
“Mhm. For dinner.”
Daemon smirked, stepping closer. Rhaenyra didn’t move, simply watching him with quiet curiosity.
His hands slid to her hips, pulling her gently toward him. “My lady sets the halls on fire again,” he murmured against her skin. “Princess, you look as breathtaking as ever.”
He tilted his head, nuzzling into the curve of her neck before pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone.
So that’s where Aegon gets his sweet tongue, Rhaenyra thought wryly, smiling to herself as she placed her hands on his shoulders and eased him back a little.
“Do you know what happened today?” she asked.
Daemon raised a brow. “What happened?”
“Alicent,” she said bitterly, “has done it again. Turned Aemond into her little jester.”
“Fuck every last Hightower,” Daemon muttered darkly.
“This thing with Aemond needs to be fixed soon,” Rhaenyra continued. “He’s retreating further into himself every day. If we leave him like this, one day he’ll drown in that darkness.”
Daemon nodded. “After the birth, I’ll start taking Aegon and Aemond out with me. Let Aemond learn to fight, to ride, to handle a sword and a bow — to live. He needs to stop hiding from the world and face it head-on.”
Rhaenyra nodded approvingly.
Daemon’s hand came to rest on her rounded belly, and he leaned in until their foreheads touched. “What do you say we go to Dragonstone for the birth?” he whispered.
“Why?” Rhaenyra murmured back, eyes closed.
“To escape that green-dressed whore,” Daemon chuckled softly.
“Escape?” she teased. “Didn’t you say we should face them?”
Daemon traced her neck with the back of his finger, his voice low and fond. “We’re not running away, love. Just... taking a little holiday. This time, when the child comes, no one’s sending for that wretch. Because if she dares come again, I’ll throw her from the balcony by her hair.”
He brushed a gentle kiss across her cheek.
“I know,” Rhaenyra said softly. “But I want my father to see the baby. This time, we won’t take the child there. If they want to see us, they can come themselves.”
Through her satin gloves, she caressed his face with her thumb, and Daemon nodded quietly.
Chapter 2: Aegon the Chaotic
Summary:
helloooooo babiesssssssssssssss
how was your Halloween?
i just set on couch and enjoyed watch tv
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Aegon was staring at the baby’s face in surprise. It was as if the longer he looked, the stranger that little face became.
Aemond stood beside him.
“Shouldn’t its hair look like ours by now?” he asked.
Every time Aegon lifted his head and looked at his grandfather again, his analysis fell apart — because this baby didn’t look anything like Aegon’s grandfather, who was also the baby’s father.
Aemond, standing next to his older brother, also couldn’t help thinking why this baby didn’t have the silver Targaryen-like hair.
Aegon leaned closer over the cradle and looked carefully at the sleeping baby.
“Doesn’t it look a bit too much like Alicent?” Aegon whispered.
Aemond nodded.
“It doesn’t look like Grandfather at all,” little Aemond said beside his brother, expressing his opinion.
And Aegon nodded.
“But Daeron looks a lot like Father. Why doesn’t this one look like his dad?”
Little Aegon’s young and simple mind couldn’t understand why a baby with black hair and black eyes was born.
Alicent had black hair and brown eyes, not black ones.
And if Aegon knew one thing, it was that this baby didn’t seem to resemble its parents at all.
“What if it’s a stray or something?” Aegon whispered suspiciously and turned his head to observe Alicent, who was lying on the bed farther from the cradle, talking with the Hightower family — Aegon’s grandparents — and his own grandfather.
Aegon had entered full detective mode and seemed to be trying to solve a case.
Aemond, with a poker face, was watching his brother’s foolish behavior.
“It’s not a stray,” Aemond said quietly so he wouldn’t wake the baby. “When the door opened, the midwife was holding it.”
But Aegon shook his head to say no.
“How do you know they didn’t bring the baby in through the window, huh?” Aegon was sure this baby had been taken from someone else. Otherwise, it was impossible for it not to have anything resembling its parents.
He turned his head toward Helaena, who was sitting on the couch near the window, gently rocking Daeron’s cradle.
Aegon slowly walked toward Helaena while keeping an eye on everyone else in the room.
He stood in front of the cradle and looked inside the black cradle. Daeron was awake.
When he saw Aegon, he reached out his little hands and laughed.
Little Daeron, in his six months of life, had already shown so much excitement toward his siblings.
Aegon nodded his head and raised his hand toward Daeron.
“I know you’re excited to see me, Roni, but I’ve got an important discussion with Hel, so sorry,” Aegon said very seriously, as if he were talking to an adult instead of a six-month-old baby.
Then he turned toward Helaena, who had lifted her head and was waiting for Aegon’s words.
He locked his hands behind his back and straightened his shoulders firmly.
“Hel, what do you think is the difference between Daeron and Jacaerys?” Aegon raised an eyebrow and gave a sharp look to his five-year-old little sister.
Helaena thought for a moment and then, while looking at Daeron with her cute little face and still rocking the cradle, answered,
“That their hair isn’t the same color? Or their eyes?”
“Exactly!” Aegon answered so loudly that everyone’s heads turned toward him, and Jacaerys’s crying filled the room.
Alicent’s face turned angry.
“Don’t shout in my room, Aegon!” Alicent yelled grumpily from the bed.
Aegon turned his head and frowned back at her.
“This room is in my grandfather’s castle!”
Aegon was the only one among his siblings who could stand up for himself with his words — he didn’t need his mother’s help, unlike Aemond or Helaena.
“I’m your grandfather’s wife! It’s my castle too!” Alicent shouted again.
Aegon shrugged.
“You’re not a Targaryen. This isn’t your castle. When Grandfather’s gone, you won’t be Queen anymore.”
Aegon looked at her very seriously.
Then his eyes caught his father, who was smirking and secretly flipping him off with his thumb.
Aegon smirked back and looked at Alicent’s angry face, while his grandfather was trying to stop her from arguing with his daughter’s little son again.
Aegon turned back toward Helaena.
“Hel, don’t you think they brought this baby from somewhere else?”
Aegon’s question seemed to have caught little Helaena’s mind too.
Her face tightened, and she stopped rocking her baby brother’s cradle, staring at her older brother. She was trying to think and analyze that theory.
“That makes a lot of sense!” Helaena said, surprised, to her brother.
That made Aegon’s smile grow even wider.
“Aemond the idiot didn’t believe me, but I knew you were smart from the beginning.”
Helaena smiled, and her cheeks turned a little pink.
“I’m the idiot?” Aemond, who was standing behind Aegon, suddenly spoke without warning — and that made Aegon jump in the air out of fear and kick Aemond in the shin.
“The fact that you sneak up and scare me like that proves how stupid you are!” Aegon said with wide eyes, trying to look scary.
Helaena giggled quietly at her two brothers’ behavior and sat softly on the floor beside the cradle.
She leaned her head inside Daeron’s cradle and whispered gently,
“Now I have someone else to have by my side so we can enjoy those two’s silly arguments together.”
She said it happily with a big smile to little Daeron, who had grabbed her finger tightly with his tiny hand.
They both seemed equally excited and cute, while the other two continued their fight.
Their life was going well and happily.
The siblings, so far, had a close and friendly relationship — three completely different personalities together forming a very cute little friendship group — and they were just being children.
They ran through the great halls of the Red Keep, invaded the Small Council meetings, played with different children, and under Aegon’s leadership, completely messed up the library every time.
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The moment the great iron doors of the council chamber swung open, Aegon burst inside and, without caring about the annoyed looks around the room, ran straight toward the far end of the long table — where his grandfather sat, a goblet of wine in one hand, his other hand resting on his stomach as he laughed.
“Grandfather!” Aegon shouted happily, making Viserys burst into loud laughter. The king put his goblet down, opened his arms wide, and pulled the boy into a tight embrace, settling him on his lap.
“My beloved grandson has come to visit me!” Viserys declared proudly, squeezing the boy in his arms. He then set Aegon up on the table, as if showing off his greatest treasure to the rest of the council.
Aegon turned his head and noticed the empty seat where his father should have been. But when he turned the other way, he suddenly came face-to-face with his mother.
Aegon froze. His face stiffened, a nervous smile tugged at his lips as he subtly tried to inch away from her. He felt a cold drop of sweat slide down his back — those sharp eyes of his mother, and that smile, the one he knew exactly what it meant, sent a little chill through him.
Aegon’s pupils darted up and down his mother’s face.
Rhaenyra smirked and leaned back in her chair, resting her elbows on the carved wooden armrests. She toyed lazily with her wedding ring — a red ruby that gleamed in the light — while her narrow eyes and sharp gaze stayed fixed on her eldest son.
“Shouldn’t you be outside in the yard, practicing swordplay with Ser Erryk right now?” Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, waiting for the ridiculous excuse she knew Aegon was about to make to dodge the truth.
Aegon widened his suspicious smile and cleared his throat.
“It was break time, so I thought I’d come visit my dear grandfather,” he said with exaggerated sweetness, flashing an overly innocent grin as he turned toward Viserys.
The 39-year-old man smiled warmly down at the boy, clearly buying every word.
“Ser Erryk doesn’t give breaks. How did you get here — and why?” Rhaenyra’s smile faded as she spoke sharply, her tone making it clear that Aegon should stop pretending and start confessing.
Seeing no way out, Aegon deflated a little, his shoulders dropping as if the air had been let out of him.
“His attention was on Aemond, so I slipped away… because… I wanted to go to the Dragonpit,” Aegon admitted innocently.
The sound of his grandfather’s laughter echoed through the council room again. The king seemed thoroughly amused by the boy’s honesty.
“I’m delighted by your passion for your dragon, Aegon. One day, you’ll be a great dragonrider,” Viserys said, ruffling the boy’s hair with a proud smile.
Aegon grinned widely at that, and Rhaenyra had to cover her own smile with the back of her hand.
“My prince, you’d better return to your training,” Ser Criston Cole said from the far end of the table, his forced smile and unfriendly tone sounding more like a warning than advice.
Aegon turned toward him, frowning at the man’s ugly face.
“None of your business,” Aegon snapped, sticking out his tongue and making a mocking face at Criston Cole.
The man glanced at Rhaenyra’s expression and quickly turned his head away, exchanging an awkward look with young Tyland Lannister sitting beside him. But neither of them dared say a word — not with three generations of Targaryens sitting right before them.
King Viserys.
Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the throne.
And Prince Aegon, not even ten years old yet — second in line to succession after his mother.
The boy had inherited his father’s sharp tongue and his mother’s piercing eyes, and that alone was enough to make him a potential nightmare for the Greens someday.
Lord Beesbury, clearly pleased by the bond between grandfather and grandson, cleared his throat to draw everyone’s attention. His serious old face turned toward the father, daughter, and child.
“Would the young prince care to speak of his fondness for his dragon?” he asked politely.
Everyone at court already knew one thing: how much the little prince adored his golden dragon, the one that shone like the sun — Sunfyre — and how he could talk about it endlessly.
Anyone who wanted to win the boy’s affection only needed to ask about his dragon.
Aegon turned himself around on the table until he was sitting cross-legged, now facing Lord Beesbury directly.
“He’s growing so big! So big! Every new Valyrian word I learn, I talk to him — and he listens! He obeys me! I know he loves me too! I’m gonna ride him really soon!” Aegon said with excitement, his voice dripping with honeyed joy.
Everyone in the room could hear the pure love and enthusiasm in his tone.
“You’re not going to ride him until you’re older,” Rhaenyra said firmly.
That was their ongoing problem — a childish argument that never seemed to end.
“But Mom, you rode your dragon for the first time when you were seven!” Aegon protested.
Rhaenyra shrugged.
“You and I are different. Sunfyre isn’t ready yet — and neither are you. What if you fall off? Then what am I supposed to do?”
A mother’s worries were never baseless. Rhaenyra wasn’t being overprotective — she was terrified of something happening to her child. Especially since the height Aegon imagined for his first flight was far beyond what was safe for a beginner.
“That’s exactly what your mother and I worried about before your first flight,” his father laughed.
These days, Viserys seemed happier than he had in years. Rhaenyra wasn’t sure why.
Was it because he had finally achieved his long-desired dream of having a son…?
Or was it simply that he was enjoying life again?
“I was different! I didn’t fly at the height Aegon wants to!”
Now it was clear Rhaenyra had dropped the tone of a worried mother — and slipped right back into being her father’s daughter, arguing with him like she used to when she was younger.
“Well, it wasn’t that different. You frightened us all the same,” the king chuckled, taking another sip of his wine.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in exasperation, scanning the faces around the chamber.
Aegon, as if suddenly remembering something, turned toward Lord Lyonel Strong and smiled brightly.
“I couldn’t find Ser Harwin to congratulate him myself, but please tell him I said congratulations on his betrothal to Lady Laena Velaryon!”
Sometimes Aegon drove Rhaenyra mad — but he was far too sweet and kind-hearted for her to stay angry at him for long. Every parent lost patience with their children now and then, but at the end of the day, love always won over irritation.
The little prince’s manners were thoughtful enough that he would offer congratulations to Ser Harwin’s father on the engagement of his son.
Lyonel gave a small nod with a polite smile.
“Thank you, my prince. I’ll be sure to tell him,” he replied respectfully to the boy sitting on the council table.
Aegon smiled in return, hopped to the edge of the table, and jumped down to the floor. Every eye in the room followed the boy.
“I should get going now. Have a nice day, you grumpy old mens! Not you, Grandfather! You get a special one — have a wonderful day, Mr. Laughing Man!” Aegon shouted cheerfully as he ran toward the doors, kicking them with his foot so the guards would open them from outside.
Rhaenyra turned and called after him, raising her voice:
“Get back to your training! And don’t let me catch you sneaking into the Dragonpit again!”
Aegon only shrugged.
And, as always, the king was the only one laughing.
“So, I’m an old man now?”
“Aren’t you?” Aegon shot back, pausing as the guards pushed the doors open.
“Who counts thirty-nine as old?” Viserys protested, still chuckling.
“Well, since you’re the grandfather of four kids, I’m gonna say you’re definitely old!” Aegon grinned mischievously — and before his grandfather could reply, he darted out of the council chamber, laughter echoing behind him.
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Aegon jumped down from the guard rail and threw himself onto Cregan Stark’s shoulders.
“Boy, when did you get here?”
Cregan wrapped his arms around the prince’s neck and pulled himself a little higher up his back. Even though Cregan was only six, he was taller and more muscular than Aegon. Aegon had been thrilled when Aemond told him the Starks had finally arrived in King’s Landing.
Cregan had been his friend for about two years—or rather, his best friend. They’d met when Aegon’s parents took him, Helaena, and Aemond north to visit House Stark and the Night’s Watch.
Cregan turned his head with that usual stern look and stared at Aegon, whose honey-colored eyes were far softer than his own.
“Just now,” Cregan said, gently dropping Aegon back to the ground.
But Aegon understood—people weren’t all like him. And he got Cregan. After all, what sense did it make for two best friends to be the same? They were supposed to complete each other.
Aegon threw an arm around his neck. “Joff’s already here. You were the only one missing.”
As they walked across the courtyard, Cregan spoke up.
“I want you to meet someone.”
“Who? You fall in love or something?” Aegon teased, flashing a mischievous grin.
Cregan punched his shoulder. “Shut up. I just want you to meet Samwell Blackwood.”
Cregan was always blunt, but that didn’t surprise Aegon. Still, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that name. His lips pursed, eyes narrowing as he glared at the tiny snowflakes on the ground with a jealous frown.
The biggest lie Aegon had ever told himself was that he wasn’t jealous of the Blackwood boy. He didn’t like the idea of Cregan getting close to someone else. Cregan was his best friend—not that Blackwood kid’s. They were supposed to be the inseparable ones.
But distance had made that hard. They didn’t see each other often and had to keep in touch through letters. One of the main reasons Aegon wanted so badly to ride his dragon was so he could visit his friends—fly to the Vale to see Joffrey, or north to see Cregan.
“I don’t wanna meet him,” Aegon muttered, shrugging and grinding his teeth.
In his childish mind, there was nothing scarier than having your best friend stolen by another boy. He even imagined smothering those “friend-thieves” with a pillow. That, of course, was the perfect punishment.
“Well, whatever,” Cregan replied, shrugging too.
Aegon stepped back, scooped up some snow, packed it into a ball, and hurled it straight into Cregan’s face.
“Asshole!” Cregan blinked. “Why’d you throw that?”
“Because you said ‘whatever!’” Aegon snapped, jealousy thick in his voice.
“You’re the one who said you don’t wanna meet him!”
“Why would I want to? He’s stealing my best friend! Am I supposed to clap for that?”
“He’s not stealing me. We’re just friends—and I want him to be friends with you, too.”
Honestly, it sounded less like a chat between a six-year-old and a seven-year-old, and more like one between a grumpy old man and a dramatic teenager.
“Everyone says ‘we’re just friends’—then you find out the truth!”
“Stop talking like we’re married or something!” Cregan barked.
“You’re blind! He’s stealing you!” Aegon yelled, throwing another snowball.
Cregan raised his arms to block it. “You’re talking nonsense!”
“The only thing that’s supposed to come between us is our wives! You know, when they tell us to spend less time with our dumb friends because we’ve got kids now!”
Aegon’s voice cracked. He was dangerously close to crying. He didn’t even know why he got so emotional over things like this.
“I never said that! You’re just making it up!” Cregan stepped back, avoiding another snowball.
“Yes you did! Now some idiot’s gonna ruin everything! I told you—people are jealous of what we have!”
“Aegon, shut up before people start thinking we’re actually married!”
“What’s wrong if we are? If it keeps him away from you, fine—we’ll be married!” Aegon stomped his foot.
“You idiot, we’re six! What do you even know about love? And men can’t be together!”
“You’re the idiot! I wasn’t talking about love! We’re best friends, and he’s trying to take you away from me! I’ll kill him!” Aegon shouted, completely losing control.
“Oh, gods, just eat me alive,” Cregan groaned, smacking his forehead.
“Pull your own pants up first, then go kill him,” he muttered sarcastically.
“I can pull my pants up! You promised we’d be best friends forever!”
“Nothing’s changed.”
“That’s what everyone says at first!”
“Aegon, shut up—my ears are bleeding from hearing that!” Cregan rolled his eyes.
Aegon didn’t want Aemond to be right—that someday, all his friends would leave him for someone else. The thought of being alone was unbearable.
“I’m not shutting up.” He stuck his tongue out defiantly. “You, me, and Joff—forever and always. We wrote it in the snow! Even on the beach at Driftmark during Ser Laenor’s wedding! Maybe we don’t have a lot of memories yet, but I’m trying to make more!”
“We live far apart, Aegon. What’s wrong with adding one more friend?”
“Did you even ask Joff if he wants a new friend?” Aegon frowned, crushing snow in his hand.
Cregan shrugged. “Didn’t ask. But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“How do you know that? You can’t decide for him! I don’t want a new friend. I don’t want anyone else in our group. It’s supposed to be our safe place, isn’t it? I’m not saying you can’t have other friends—but don’t get so close that someone replaces me. Okay?”
Aegon tried to catch his breath, forcing himself to calm down.
But Cregan only shrugged. “You sound way too grown-up right now, Aegon. I don’t even understand half of what you’re saying.”
Just then, Aegon heard a voice calling from the castle steps. He turned his head and saw a dark-haired boy standing there with a faint smile. What really caught his attention was his clothing—a deep red velvet outfit and a small cloak embroidered with the Blackwood raven and the heart tree.
Aegon’s face hardened, his brows knotting together. Cregan noticed the bitterness on his friend’s face and followed his gaze until he saw Samwell.
“Perfect,” Cregan muttered under his breath.
Samwell quickly descended the stairs and walked toward them, stopping between the two boys.
“I’m Samwell Blackwood,” he said, extending his hand politely.
Aegon stared at the older boy, his expression far from friendly. He shot Cregan a glare and had to stop himself from clawing at Samwell right there. Samwell still kept his hand out—but Aegon wasn’t planning to take it.
He opened his mouth to say something snarky when suddenly, Aemond appeared out of nowhere, rushing toward them.
“Aegon! Daeron just said his first word!”
“What’d he say?” Aegon blurted, caught off guard.
“He said ‘Mama!’”
Aegon froze completely.
Notes:
well well well
this chap was aeg's pov
that was so cuteeeeee
the friendship between aeg and his sibs are so cute i'm gonna dieeeeeee
Little Aegon and Helaena are just too adorable :)
And Daeron—he’s living in his own little world, just enjoying the pure joy of being a six-month-old baby.
Alicent, on the other hand, is such a miserable witch.
Baby Jacaerys has finally been born >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Now, let’s focus on this fact:
This fanfiction is meant to show that none of it was ever about the kids’ nature.
They weren’t born good or bad.
It was all about Alicent’s and Rhaenyra’s parenting.Alicent took an innocent child and turned him into the filthiest version of himself,
while Rhaenyra kept her child innocent until the very end.
That’s the difference between their upbringings.I want to show what would’ve happened if Alicent’s kids were raised by Rhaenyra, and Rhaenyra’s kids were raised by Alicent.
So, please treat this fanfiction as something completely separate from the book.And I hope your hatred toward Jace, Luke, and Joffrey doesn’t extend to these pure little angels in book and show.
But do keep hating the real Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron!
Just not these ones on this fic—they’re ridiculously sweet :)When I was a kid and someone tried to be friends with my best friend:
Aegon was exactly like that—so dumb and so precious, I absolutely love him.
That moment when he got all serious and said, with total detective-mode energy, “Hold on, Daeron,” as if that baby actually understood what he was saying—it killed me. 😭💖
Chapter Text
And with the arrival of the second month of 115 came Prince Aegon’s eighth naming day.
Eight years earlier, on a day just like this, Princess Rhaenyra had gone into labor and delivered her first child. While her screams echoed behind closed doors throughout the entire castle, the king, the queen, the rest of the household, and their guests were busy enjoying themselves. And the only person who stayed by her side and held her hand — as he should — was Daemon.
Little Aegon, the child who made it so that nothing in the world except death could ever pull Rhaenyra and Daemon apart. Little Aegon, who pulled them out of loneliness and gave them an innocent, adorable creature to bring joy into their lives — something that strengthened their love even more.
Aegon, who was his mother’s baby — her first child, her tiny little ninnie.
The big brother of his siblings, the one who always encouraged them, the funny little troublemaker who constantly made them laugh.
The little boy who was thrilled at the idea of riding Sunfyre.
The jealous little prince who wanted his friends all to himself.
A boy who understood far more than his age suggested — the very definition of an eldest child.
A complete suck-up in front of his grandfather, and an absolute smart-mouthed menace in front of Alicent, Otto, and Criston Cole.
The boy’s silver hair had grown much longer than it usually was; it finally fell below his ears and barely brushed his shoulders, lying neatly against his neck.
He wore a double-layered velvet coat embroidered with Sunfyre’s golden wings along the collar — a black jacket over a white shirt, a neatly folded white cravat, and red gloves stitched with golden thread.
Thick, heavy leather shoes — and Aegon, sitting properly in his seat at the royal feast table, attending the queen’s ballroom festivities.
As usual, his grandfather was giving a long speech, and Aegon, bored out of his mind, was secretly fidgeting with his fingers under the table.
The night before, the family had eaten together for Aegon’s eighth birthday and ended up playing for hours afterward. And little Daeron, ten months old, had been wriggling around trying to crawl on his belly — only to be held back by his three older siblings.
Because this baby was way more mischievous than his older brother Aegon. He would tug the cloths off shelves and small cabinets and throw everything down.
Especially now that he had learned to stand while holding on to things.
Their father had spent the entire day taking Aegon and Aemond around the city and even brought them to see the City Watch — which Aegon found very exciting.
Aemond swore he had seen stars in Aegon’s eyes.
Aegon had nearly exhausted himself insisting that Helaena come too, but the little daddy’s girl had no interest in leaving the castle — especially now that she had so many new friends and was planning to show them her mother’s garden.
Aegon turned his head toward Aemond, who was already looking back at him.
“Bored?” Aemond whispered.
Aegon nodded. “So much. I need chaos.” Aegon could never sit still; he always craved chaos. And if necessary, he created the chaos he wanted. His father called him Aegon the Chaotic.
Aemond popped a grape into his mouth and leaned back in his chair.
“Wanna smash a plate over Alicent’s head?” he raised a brow.
Aegon rested his hand on the armrest, crossed one leg over the other, and smirked crookedly.
“I wouldn’t mind. But today’s the best chance to piss her off — all of us, really. I’m not wasting it. If I could, I’d grab that shit-colored hair of hers and toss her into the dungeons.”
Aemond stared at his older brother, clearly confused — mostly because Aegon seemed to know way more insults than he did.
“You even know how to get to the dungeons?” Aemond arched a brow and grabbed another grape.
The loud, juicy crunch of those rich purple grapes under his teeth was driving Aegon insane.
Aemond was obsessed with grapes, which was why their grandfather had practically filled the castle with them. Meanwhile Aegon was so sick of seeing grapes that he felt nauseous. He even had nightmares about them attacking him.
Aegon preferred peaches — sweet, red, juicy peaches that made him melt from how delicious they were, bringing him deep satisfaction known as “no longer hungry” and “no longer tired.”
“I didn’t crawl through every rat hole in this castle just to ruin my clothes for nothing,” Aegon said, placing his hand on the table and staring ahead seriously.
No one ever knew what went through Aegon’s mind. He always did strange things no one could find a reason for.
Like that one day he somehow randomly ended up in the castle dungeons — the very maze even kings themselves couldn’t trace on their maps — carrying a fruit basket, bribing the guards, and getting every bit of information about the prisoners and why they were there.
On top of that, Aegon had a map of the castle. Every time he started at the front gate, he would wander through countless corridors until he reached the place he wanted, then mark the correct route on his map — so he wouldn’t have to conquer the castle’s rat tunnels again later.
Aegon’s mind, with its factory settings, never worked the way others’ did. Nothing in this world could make the wheels in his brain spin like everyone else’s.
Low fuel — high output.
His mother always said they should be satisfied with what they have. But Aegon? Why should he ever settle for only what he had?
anything, the truth was very different. Aegon knew he was living in a castle full of snakes — and if he didn’t want to be bitten, he had to survive. And to survive, he had to be clever.
Aegon knew that one day, he would carry heavy responsibilities on his shoulders, just like his mother once had. And soon enough, the same weight would be placed on him. So he decided he would figure everything out on his own.
He needed to understand people — who was good, and who was rotten to the core. Who was a viper, who was a wolf, and who was just a sheep.
He needed to know if the castle had secret tunnels or hidden passages.
He needed to know who was for the blacks and who was for the greens. Who was loyal and who was a traitor.
Aegon wanted to start preparing for his duties as quickly as possible, so he would no longer need to sneak around like a mouse searching for the castle’s secrets.
He wanted to become a dragonrider as quickly as he could — to prove he was a true Targaryen and earn the people’s respect. Not just their respect, but their fear as well.
The more dragons the Black faction had, the better.
And now that Alicent had a son, who knew whether she planned to replace his mother one day? Aegon would never let the Hightowers do something like that.
Aegon desperately wanted to enjoy his childhood — and until a few months ago, he had actually managed to balance it with his strange little missions. But then his illegitimate uncle was born — a child who, the older he grew, the less he resembled either of his parents. His straight, raven-black hair and brown eyes had nothing in common with the lighter brown, honey-tinted hair of his mother.
The traps Alicent set in an attempt to expose Aegon’s mother had kept his attention for the past four months.
This alone filled his mind with questions — and his father answered them one by one, opening Aegon’s eyes to the greed and filth of the Hightowers. It only pushed him deeper into crawling through every hidden corner of the castle.
And it made his behavior even stranger.
The taller Aegon grew, the faster his mind seemed to grow with him.
In these last four months, his simple, childish world had collapsed on top of him.
The whispers inside the castle terrified him.
Some said Prince Jacaerys would one day kill his sister, his uncle, and their children.
Some said he would throw them into the dungeons.
Some said he would send them to Oldtown to pray for their sins.
But what sins?
Aegon was eight, and the worst thing he did was ditch Ser Arryk Cargyll at noon so he could sneak to the Dragonpit.
Aemond always woke up at night and slipped into their parents’ room.
Helaena threw her doll away at night because she swore it became scary in the dark.
And baby Daeron, who had only just been born — his greatest crime was pulling the tablecloth off the breakfast table.
They hadn’t done anything wrong.
They weren’t even old enough to step outside the castle without their parents. They almost never left at all.
Aegon knew his mother was practically a man on her own — she never needed one behind her. But his father was there, and Aegon himself was growing fast. He would become a man soon, a man who could help his mother. Jacaerys was going to reach adulthood much later than him.
By the time Aegon became a man, Jace would still be just a child.
Aegon had always been full of life, but lately that energy had shifted into chaos — chaos aimed at ruining every bit of joy the greens tried to have. “I guess this is what they call growing up,” he thought.
“So you really found the dungeon paths?” Aemond asked.
“I told you. Yeah, I found them,” Aegon quietly confirmed with a nod.
He found them because he needed an escape plan in case something terrible happened — a way to get out of the dungeons, to find the fastest route to the castle gates.
Every night, Aegon fell asleep imagining the worst possibilities, and it was beginning to show. Even Helaena had noticed how withdrawn he had become.
Aegon tapped the table lightly with the tip of his right fingers and bit the inside of his cheek.
The great iron doors of the queen’s ballroom suddenly opened with a loud, grating sound. The guests who were laughing and drinking turned their attention toward the entrance as the Velaryons entered alongside the Strongs.
These two houses had been closely tied ever since Lord Corlys’s daughter, Lady Laena, married Harwin Strong, heir to Harrenhal.
Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, Lord Lyonel, Ser Harwin hand-in-hand with Lady Laena, Ser Laenor with his wife Lady Cassandra Tyrell, and Harwin’s younger brother Ser Larys Strong all entered together.
They walked toward the high table to congratulate Aegon’s grandfather, his mother, his father, and Aegon himself on the prince’s birthday.
Aegon nodded stiffly and couldn’t even manage a smile.
------------------
Rhaenyra noticed immediately that her son wasn’t nearly as cheerful as he usually was. She leaned closer to Daemon.
“Aegon’s been acting strange lately. Has he told you anything?” she raised a brow.
Daemon stopped playing with the ring on his finger, pursed his lips, and pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek — something he always did without realizing when he was thinking. Then he looked into Rhaenyra’s lavender eyes.
“No. Lately, even when he comes to the City Watch, he’s very quiet. He only asks about the city’s exits and entrances. About the architecture. About the hidden passages,” Daemon said.
Daemon watched both boys carefully whenever they were outside the castle. He liked seeing how they interacted with others. But surprisingly, Aemond seemed far more comfortable socializing — while Aegon, despite everything, couldn’t seem to connect.
The chaos Aegon talked about wasn’t the harmless mischief everyone thought he’d grown out of four months ago.
The truth was far darker: he wanted to see the Hightowers brought to ruin and bloodshed.
If they intended to take Aegon’s family from him, he would never allow it — he would destroy Alicent’s family himself, long before they ever got the chance.
"I'm afraid something might have happened."
"Are you afraid she’ll do to Aegon what she did before to Aemond?" Daemon asked honestly.
Rhaenyra nodded, resting her elbow on the armrest and her hand on her temple. She took a deep breath.
"Just a few months ago, the adult world and reality didn’t matter to him at all, and now suddenly his only concern is that he wants to read about Maegor and Aegon the Uncrowned."
"What if he’s afraid that he and that bastard of Alicent’s will end up the same way?"
Rhaenyra shrugged in a “I don’t know” gesture. "I have no idea. But my child is withering."
"I don’t think it’s that bad. He’s sitting right next to me. I heard him say he wants chaos. What’s withering about that? And when I took him to the City Watch, he was bouncing off the walls with excitement. Don’t worry. He’s just growing up. He’s entering his adolescence, and soon enough, he’ll fully reach this stage and drive the Seven hells out of us, Rhaenyra."
Daemon gave a warm smile, cupping Rhaenyra’s chin gently.
He looked at her in a way that finally brought a smile to her worried face.
"That’s the problem, Daemon. I don’t want him to grow up. He’s always been my little boy. I don’t want to lose my little silver-haired son."
The sadness in Rhaenyra’s eyes was very familiar to Daemon — the same look in Viserys’s eyes when Rhaenyra was younger and slowly growing taller.
"There’s nothing sad about that. You won’t lose him. He’ll grow taller, he’ll mature, he’ll become wiser, and he’ll be a heartbreaker."
With that last sentence, both of them burst into laughter, and Daemon held Rhaenyra’s warm hands in his own.
"His mother is the most beautiful, his father the most handsome — this child will surely be the most charming and gorgeous. Girls will swoon over him."
Daemon raised Rhaenyra’s hands to his lips and kissed them thoroughly. Rhaenyra smiled faintly, enjoying her husband’s kiss.
While kissing her hands, Daemon looked at her. "They grow up, and we grow old. So let’s enjoy their childhood while we can."
At that moment, Daemon realized that his little sons had started to stop acting like children. When his adorable little daughter no longer said to him, "I want a bedtime kiss, Mommy and Daddy."
When Daemon held Helaena for the first time, he panicked. This wasn’t a boy — it was a girl, Daemon’s fragile little girl.
He feared that if he held her hand, she would crumble like a flower, petals falling and disappearing. He was afraid that a small word from his sweet little daughter would crush her heart, hurt her, or upset her.
Aegon and Helaena were their eldest children — their first son and first daughter.
The endless fears they had did not vanish with their first experience of parenting. Even now, they lingered like shadows.
-----------
“Don’t you wanna go hang out with cregan and the others?” Helaena asked while stuffing cake into her mouth.
Aegon shrugged. “I don’t have time.” He started fiddling with the tiny pebbles hidden in the thick green grass of the Red Keep’s garden.
It was obvious to Helaena that Aegon had been avoiding cregan ever since last week. But she preferred not to say anything, so she wouldn’t embarrass her brother.
Helaena sat down on the grass and went back to eating her chocolate cake.
“The ground is cold, Hel. Come sit on the chairs,” Aegon said, pointing at the fancy round table and chairs in the middle of the garden.
But Helaena shook her head. “I want to sit on the ground because it’s cold. And I’m hot.”
Aegon nodded, took a sip of the fresh orange juice in his glass, and enjoyed the silence of the night. The cool spring air. The stars in the sky. The fire torches attached to the walls lighting up the paths.
He enjoyed Helaena’s presence too — the way she looked so cute sitting on the grass.
“Hel… do you like roses?” Aegon suddenly turned his head toward her adorable face.
Helaena’s cheeks were full of cake, she was trying to shove in even more, and her short silver hair had fallen over her forehead, making her look even cuter. Without lifting her head, still attacking the cake with her fork, she mumbled, “I like jasmine.”
“Why?” Aegon wondered. With all the colorful flowers in the world, why would Helaena — who loved colors — like a plain white flower?
Helaena stuffed the last piece of cake into her mouth and finally began chewing. For a few seconds, a peaceful silence filled the garden: the chirping sparrows, the rustling fig leaves, and the lilies swaying in the breeze broke the quiet from time to time.
After swallowing her cake at last, Helaena lifted her head, took the empty plate off her lap, and set it on the grass.
“Because jasmine is white. It represents purity. It’s as white as the clouds. Just like angels, who are described as pure and innocent — jasmine is white too. Beauty, honesty, innocence… that’s why I love it.”
“Like you,” Aegon accidentally said aloud — words that had been living only in his mind until that moment.
Helaena froze. A sudden wave of heat rushed into her cheeks. A moment ago, cake had filled her cheeks — now blood did.
She felt like steam was rising from her face.
“I’m… innocent?” Helaena whispered shyly, lowering her head and playing with her fingers, a soft smile forming on her lips.
Aegon panicked. His eyes darted around in anxiety.
“No— n-no— I mean… well, yeah, you are innocent. Who among us is innocent except you? asshole aemond?”
Aegon attempted to cover his words with a lame tone and an even lamer smile.
-----------
Aemond suddenly sneezed— loudly. Then sniffed.
“Bless you,” his mother said, patting his shoulder.
Aemond frowned. “Why do I feel like Aegon is running his mouth talking nonsense about me again?”
Notes:
Hiiiii! Welcome to new chapter!
How’s everyone doing? I just had a crazy day today. I was home alone for over 10 hours, writing and editing this chapter like a total maniac, all while listening to a true crime case.Let me officially welcome you to aegon’s birthday chapter! Our sweet little talkative boy just turned 8 :)))))))))
Chapter Text
Helaena, staring curiously at the cloth draped over her lap, suddenly heard someone enter the room. When she lifted her head, she saw her father approaching with a smile.
Helaena’s face lit up. She grinned widely, showing off her lower teeth that had just fallen out. She tossed the cloth onto the sofa and ran toward her father.
Her father opened his arms to welcome her, slid his hands under her armpits, lifted her up, and held her close. Helaena wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, clinging to him like a little koala.
Daemon, holding her under the arms, began moving toward the door.
“Daddy, where are we going?” Helaena asked, still resting her head against him.
Daemon stroked her long silver hair as they exited, giving her a small glimpse of the armored guards at the doorway, though he paid them little mind.
“We’re going to have a family afternoon in Aegon’s garden,” he murmured gently.
Helaena whispered, “Just us?”
“Unfortunately, no, my little one. The Green Witch and her son, and your grandfather will be there too,” Daemon replied as they began descending the steps of Maegor’s holdfast.
Helaena clung tighter. “Daddy, why do they call the royal family residence ‘Maegor’s Holdfast’? Wasn’t Maegor cruel and wicked?” She had always wondered why such an important part of the castle bore his name, even though everyone called him a tyrant.
Daemon had asked the same question of his own father long ago and had pondered it himself. “Blood begets blood.”
“Because Maegor finished the castle and named it after himself.”
“Maegor named it himself?” Helaena looked up in surprise, staring at her father.
Daemon nodded. “Yes. When Aegon the Conqueror died, the castle remained unfinished. Even Aenys, five years later, didn’t complete it either. Though I doubt Maegor even tried to finish it properly, in the end, during his reign, the castle was completed.”
Helaena nodded and rested her head on her father’s shoulder again.
“Daddy,” she called softly.
“Yes, my sweet?”
“I want a dragon,” she said innocently, her lips pouting from the disappointment of not having one.
Daemon chuckled softly. “And now you want one, after Aegon finished?” He paused as they stepped through the large doorway. People bowing as they passed greeted them, and Daemon nodded in return. “Maybe you should go to Dragonpit and try taming one yourself.”
The sudden sunlight made Helaena squint and frown.
“But I don’t know which one I want. Show me,” she said eagerly. She longed for a cuddly little dragon. Aegon’s dragon was beautiful and majestic.
“Silverwing, named for her silver wings, was Queen Alysanne’s dragon—your great-grandmother’s,” Daemon said with a gentle smile, recalling his elderly, now-deceased grandmother.
“Do people have grandmothers?” Helaena asked, looking around curiously.
Daemon frowned. “Of course. Everyone has grandparents. Why would you think someone doesn’t?”
Helaena shrugged. “Because I didn’t. Whenever I asked, no one else did either. I only have a grandfather.”
“In truth, when parents have children who marry and have children, they become grandparents. Just because some of your grandparents are gone doesn’t mean you didn’t have any, my little honey.” Daemon gently kissed the top of Helaena’s head.
“Then who are my grandmothers?”
“Your grandmothers—one was my mother, the other was your mother’s mother. Queen Emma Arryn is your mother’s mother, and she was my brother's wife as well as my aunt's daughter.” Daemon’s smile faded as he remembered the last time he saw Emma.
“How is your cousin a Queen Emma, though?” Helaena asked, puzzled. “Can people who aren’t Targaryens become king or queen?”
Helaena knew that Aegon the Conqueror had married his sisters, Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys. Aenys the firstHelaena, staring curiously at the cloth draped over her lap, suddenly heard someone enter the room. When she lifted her head, she saw her father approaching with a smile.
Helaena’s face lit up. She grinned widely, showing off her lower teeth that had just fallen out. She tossed the cloth onto the sofa and ran toward her father.
Her father opened his arms to welcome her, slid his hands under her armpits, lifted her up, and held her close. Helaena wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, clinging to him like a little koala.
Daemon, holding her under the arms, began moving toward the door.
“Daddy, where are we going?” Helaena asked, still resting her head against him.
Daemon stroked her long silver hair as they exited, giving her a small glimpse of the armored guards at the doorway, though he paid them little mind.
“We’re going to have a family afternoon in Aegon’s garden,” he murmured gently.
Helaena whispered, “Just us?”
“Unfortunately, no, my little one. The Green Witch and her son, and your grandfather will be there too,” Daemon replied as they began descending the steps of Maegor’s holdfast.
Helaena clung tighter. “Daddy, why do they call the royal family residence ‘Maegor’s Holdfast’? Wasn’t Maegor cruel and wicked?” She had always wondered why such an important part of the castle bore his name, even though everyone called him a tyrant.
Daemon had asked the same question of his own father long ago and had pondered it himself. “Blood begets blood.”
“Because Maegor finished the castle and named it after himself.”
“Maegor named it himself?” Helaena looked up in surprise, staring at her father.
Daemon nodded. “Yes. When Aegon the Conqueror died, the castle remained unfinished. Even Inis, five years later, didn’t complete it either. Though I doubt Maegor even tried to finish it properly, in the end, during his reign, the castle was completed.”
Helaena nodded and rested her head on her father’s shoulder again.
“Daddy,” she called softly.
“Yes, my sweet?”
“I want a dragon,” she said innocently, her lips pouting from the disappointment of not having one.
Daemon chuckled softly. “And now you want one, after Aegon finished?” He paused as they stepped through the large doorway. People bowing as they passed greeted them, and Daemon nodded in return. “Maybe you should go to Dragonpit and try taming one yourself.”
The sudden sunlight made Helaena squint and frown.
“But I don’t know which one I want. Show me,” she said eagerly. She longed for a cuddly little dragon. Aegon’s dragon was beautiful and majestic.
“Silverwing, named for her silver wings, was Queen Alyssa’s dragon—your grandmother’s,” Daemon said with a gentle smile, recalling his elderly, now-deceased grandmother.
“Do people have grandmothers?” Helaena asked, looking around curiously.
Daemon frowned. “Of course. Everyone has grandparents. Why would you think someone doesn’t?”
Helaena shrugged. “Because I didn’t. Whenever I asked, no one else did either. I only have a grandfather.”
“In truth, when parents have children who marry and have children, they become grandparents. Just because some of your grandparents are gone doesn’t mean you didn’t have any, my little honey.” Daemon gently kissed the top of Helaena’s head.
“Then who are my grandmothers?”
“Your grandmothers—one was my mother, the other was your mother’s mother. Queen Emma Arryn is your mother’s mother, and my sister’s wife as well as my cousin’s daughter.” Daemon’s smile faded as he remembered the last time he saw Emma.
“How is your cousin a Queen Emma, though?” Helaena asked, puzzled. “Can people who aren’t Targaryens become king or queen?”
Helaena knew that Aegon the Conqueror had married his sisters, Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys. Inis first married Queen Alyssa, a Valyrian, which was acceptable. Maegor had formally married Seris Hightower and unofficially taken five other wives, including Queen Rhaena Targaryen, Aegon the Uncrowned’s wife.
“Just as your grandfather Viserys is now married to a Hightower, never forget that your grandmother, Queen Emma Arryn, was also a Targaryen, because her mother was a Targaryen. But she had silver hair and blue eyes, and she was very kind and gentle. You are very much like her in personality, Helaena.” Helaena’s gentle, kind hearted smile was even more beautiful than the finest flowers.
Helaena nodded. “And who’s my other maternal grandmother?”
“Alyssa Targaryen. In her honor, Queen Alyssa Velaryon named her Elissa. She was Prince Baelon’s wife and the mother of me and your grandfather Viserys.” Daemon smiled again as they entered the garden doorway.
They could see the others seated around the table, and Aegon and Aemond running through the garden, chasing each other.
“Don’t talk about your grandmothers at the table, alright? Your mother and grandfather will be upset. We can talk about them later,” Daemon instructed gently.
Helaena nodded in agreement. When they reached the side of the table, she waved to her mother, then her father set her down on the ground. Helaena ran to join her brothers by the tree. Her pale blue satin skirt fluttered as she ran, and she loved the cool breeze against her skin. Aenys the first, married Queen Alyssa, a Velaryon, which was acceptable. Maegor had formally married Ceryse Hightower and unofficially taken five other wives, including Queen Rhaena Targaryen, Aegon the Uncrowned’s sister-wife.
“Just as your grandfather Viserys is now married to a Hightower, never forget that your grandmother, Queen Emma Arryn, was also a Targaryen, because her mother was a Targaryen. But she had silver hair and blue eyes, and she was very kind and gentle. You are very much like her in personality, Helaena.” Helaena’s gentle, kind hearted smile was even more beautiful than the finest flowers.
Helaena nodded. “And who’s my other maternal grandmother?”
“Alyssa Targaryen. In her honor, she named after her grandmother, Queen Alyssa Velaryon. She was Prince Baelon’s wife and the mother of me and your grandfather Viserys.” Daemon smiled again as they entered the garden doorway.
They could see the others seated around the table, and Aegon and Aemond running through the garden, chasing each other.
“Don’t talk about your grandmothers at the table, alright? Your mother and grandfather will be upset. We can talk about them later,” Daemon instructed gently.
Helaena nodded in agreement. When they reached the side of the table, she waved to her mother, then her father set her down on the ground. Helaena ran to join her brothers by the tree. Her pale blue satin skirt fluttered as she ran, and she loved the cool breeze against her skin.
The two boys were running as they shouted at each other. Aegon sped up, and when Aemond looked over his shoulder and saw his older brother getting closer, he tried to run faster. But Aemond wasn’t a good runner—or at least, not as good as Aegon.
Aegon grabbed the back of his younger brother’s tunic from behind, yanked him hard, and threw him to the ground. Then, like an angry little beast, he stood over Aemond, who had fallen on his back and was wincing and groaning in pain. Aegon clenched his teeth tightly, and both of his hands curled into trembling fists of rage at his sides.
He was breathing heavily.
Helaena stopped running and hide behind a tree. She peeked out from behind the trunk, her lips pursed as she tried to understand what the boys were doing. And when her eyes fell on the dried blood at the corner of Aegon’s mouth, she only grew more confused.
Aegon leaned down, shrinking the space between his face and Aemond’s. He raised his index finger and held it in front of Aemond’s eyes.
“Why did you punch me, you animal?” Aegon hissed, trying not to shout, and then he kicked the bottom of Aemond’s foot hard. Aemond shot up angrily and shoved Aegon with all his strength.
Aegon didn’t move more than a few inches, which only made him angrier.
“What’s wrong with you, Aemond? You got rabies? Did a dog bite you, huh?” Aegon finally yelled, grabbed Aemond by the collar, and raised his fist, ready to smash it into Aemond’s face—
but at that exact moment, Helaena ran up to them, planting herself between her brothers. She tried, with all the strength in her tiny arms, to push Aegon and Aemond apart before they could hurt each other.
“Hey! Hey! Calm down!” Helaena pleaded, but the boys didn’t budge an inch. They only glared at one another even harder, the fire in their eyes burning hotter than before.
Helaena pushed with all her might and managed to get Aegon to step back.
(She didn’t actually manage it—Aegon moved back on his own.)
Feeling triumphant, Helaena put her hands on her hips, turned toward Aemond with the dramatic authority of a kitten pretending to be a tiger, and tried to frown fearsomely. She only ended up looking adorable.
“Alright, boys, why are you fighting?” she asked, lifting her head to look into Aemond’s annoyed, exhausted eyes.
Aemond turned his head away and chose not to answer.
So Helaena spun toward Aegon and asked him the same question.
“Since Aemond won’t say it, you’re obligated to tell me what happened, Aeg—”
She spoke firmly, trying to put pressure on Aegon so he’d tell her the truth, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence, because Aemond cut her off.
“Aegon doesn’t have to answer to you!” he shouted childishly, then stuck his tongue out.
Aegon gently moved Helaena aside, stepped forward, and punched Aemond hard in the stomach, knocking him to the ground for the second time.
“Talk to your sister properly, you animal.”
“Talk to your brother properly first!” Aemond yelled back.
“I’m not talking normally to someone who laid hands on me for no reason. That’s exactly what you deserve.”
Aegon turned away from him, walked back to Helaena, took her hand, and started pulling her along as he walked off.
But Helaena managed to pull her hand out of Aegon’s and walk back toward Aemond.
Aegon turned his head, and when he saw the girl was back where she’d been before, he let out an irritated breath and also went back to his spot.
Helaena was really confused.
“Aemond… why did you punch Aegon in the face?” she asked softly, sounding lost. She looked like a little doll who had no idea what was going on.
Aemond frowned.
“Because this idiot’s been acting weird since his birthday. Really weird. I told him to come play with me but he said he was tired. So I punched him in the face, because I knew that’d get him up and make him chase me.”
Aemond turned his head away so he wouldn’t have to look at his older brother. Not because he felt guilty—he was just pissed and wanted to punch Aegon again, right in the stomach.
“So why the hell are you pacing around like some pissed-off wildfire now, huh?”
Aegon took a step forward, ready to grab his younger brother’s collar again, but Helaena stepped between them. She wanted to say something, but Aemond answered first.
“No one beats up their little brother!”
“Oh yeah, and am I supposed to clap for you when you punch me?” Aegon yelled, loud enough to make everyone at the table turn around.
People started watching them with curiosity.
Helaena saw the Hightowers looking and realized she couldn’t let them see her family look weak.
“They’re watching us. If it was just family, whatever, you two fight like cats and dogs all the time. But the Hightowers are here too.”
She put her hands over both brothers’ hands.
Aegon quickly turned to look at the Hightowers, and when he saw them watching, he nodded to himself.
The biggest reason he’d dropped his playful, childish attitude was the scent of betrayal burning right under his nose.
He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and whispered,
“You know why I was so out of it?”
His blue eyes locked onto Aemond’s darker, violet-toned ones.
Aemond loosened his frown and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t get it—but if Aegon was finally ready to explain, he’d listen.
“Alright, tell me. What made you act like some grumpy old man?” Aemond pouted, waiting for his brother’s answer.
Aegon glanced around first, eyes scanning all the green-eyed and brown-eyed threats at the table.
“You feel those looks that smell like green poison?” he asked the younger two.
Helaena was the first to answer. She nodded quickly.
“You mean the Hightowers? If yes, then yeah. I felt the hatred in their eyes.”
She might have seemed simple or oblivious, but she really wasn’t. Sometimes she picked up truths without even realizing it.
Aemond turned to her.
“You know how to think with that walnut brain of yours?”
“Shut up, Aemond.”
Aegon raised his elbow as a warning — shut your mouth or I’ll break your teeth with this elbow.
Aemond stepped back.
“Alright, fine, I didn’t say anything…” He leaned against the tree behind him. “Anyway, everyone knows the Hightowers are dangerous and one day their shit is gonna show. You two aren’t discovering anything new.”
He spoke with clear sarcasm and stuck his tongue out at Aegon.
Aegon felt his blood boiling hotter every second, like someone stood behind him whispering in his ear, egging him on to beat his brother senseless.
But something kept stopping him.
His mother’s words kept echoing in his head:
“Remember, Aegon, you always have to protect your younger siblings.”
He didn’t want to disappoint her. So he kept digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from doing something stupid.
“Well, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Ever since I learned how things in this castle work, I’ve been reading nonstop. Had to keep my ears sharp so no one slides a dagger in our backs. You know… the snake pit is in our own home now. And they opened the door for it. Now all it has to do is curl around our necks while we sleep.”
Aegon ran a hand over his forehead and looked down at the tall green grass.
He took a deep breath.
“Sooner or later, I’ll have to step into that part of life where I become our family’s shield. Just like Mother and Father shielded us. And sooner or later, they won’t be here to protect us anymore. When we get married and turn sixteen, we’ll have our own responsibilities. We won’t be kids anymore. Maybe they’ll still protect Helaena, but it’d be pathetic for them to keep protecting us too. We’re supposed to be the damn pillars of this family.”
He raised his head and looked Aemond straight in the face.
“And instead of punching me in the face, all you had to do was ask why I was acting like that. I don’t hide anything from you two.”
Aemond stared at him, shocked.
Helaena smiled softly.
“Father says family has to always stand together. If we’re gonna do that, we need trust. I trust you both. Completely. But Aemond, next time… use the mouth the gods gave you and ask me. Don’t punch me. Because next time, maybe I’ll grab your fist mid-air and break your nose right then and there, mama’s boy.”
Aegon said it bluntly.
Aemond nodded.
“Fine. I promise I won’t punch you next time.”
He gave a small smirk.
“They’re finally old enough to start fighting each other,” Viserys said, laughing before downing his cup of wine.
Alicent shot a disgusted look at the little kids by the tree, while Rhaenyra watched her with a smirk. She could practically see the jealousy growing bigger and bigger in Alicent’s eyes with every passing second.
“Well, brothers have always fought,” Daemon said mockingly, and both he and Viserys laughed.
Notes:
Hi my lovessss, how are you guys?
Sorry I completely disappeared two weeks ago — I wasn’t doing well at all, but I’m feeling better now.I actually wrote this chapter a long time ago, but the ending wasn’t finished. So today I finally completed it.
Isn’t Helaena just so sweet in this chapter? :) She’s really adorable and lovable.
This chapter was mostly from Helaena’s POV.Father–daughter relationship between Daemon and Helaena >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
It’s a bond we never got to see between Helaena and Viserys, or between Baela/Rhaena and Daemon.The show totally ruined so many things, and one of them was Daemon’s relationship with his daughters.
I honestly think in this story, Helaena is Daemon’s little rose, and the way Daemon protects her is the real version of what Viserys always claimed he did for Rhaenyra.
Especially with how sweet Helaena is, even though people see her as simple or naive.She’s vulnerable — and that’s exactly why Aegon said their parents might still protect Helaena in the future, but protecting them would be pathetic.
What he meant was: Helaena’s soft-hearted, she’s not unbreakable. She gets hurt easily.
While boys in Westeros are expected to grow up strong and unshakeable.
That’s what Aegon meant.Little Helaena wants a dragon too 😭🩷
God help Rhaenyra and Daemon — all three of their kids are practically tearing the whole place down to get themselves dragons.Like Viserys said in episode one to Queen Aemma:
“Gods forbid we end up with another Visenya — we already have one of those.”
Now Rhaenyra should be saying:
“Gods forbid we end up with a second dragon-obsessed Aegon — we already have one.”Aegon and Aemond’s fight was sooo funny.
Each of them was trying their absolute hardest to piss the other one off.
Aemond punching Aegon cracked me up.Aemond is so used to Aegon being the walking happiness-bomb of the family, but lately Aegon’s been really withdrawn — which we saw a lot in the previous chapter.
And Aemond noticed that.
So he tried to provoke him to bring back that energy in him.Meanwhile Helaena is trying so hard to mediate between her brothers.
And you may have noticed, right from the start, Aemond has always acted like a real brother.
You know how siblings are — always ripping each other apart but also loving each other.
That’s exactly how Aemond and Helaena are.But Aegon was always more careful around Helaena.
Maybe you’ve noticed by now… but I won’t say anything more 😏Aegon finally told them everything.
And he shared his thoughts with his brother and sister.See you in the next chapter!
Chapter Text
“Welcome!” Rhaenyra rose from her seat and opened her arms toward Laena, whose belly had grown quite large.
Laena walked toward her with a warm smile and embraced her. “Cousin!” she said as she kissed Rhaenyra’s cheek and set her hands on Rhaenyra’s shoulders.
A wide smile spread across Rhaenyra’s lips. It had been such a long time since she had last seen Laena. The last time had been at the wedding feast in Harrenhal, when Ser Harwin Strong married Laena—the grand celebration where the eldest daughter of the Sea Snake was wed to the heir of Harrenhal.
And the newly married couple had seemed genuinely happy.
Gently, Rhaenyra tugged Laena’s arm and guided her down onto the soft woolen seat beside her.
“So, cousin, tell me everything. How’s Harrenhal treating you?”
Rhaenyra picked up the plate of cake she had prepared for Laena and set it on her lap. Laena’s smile grew even larger, and she nodded gratefully as she picked up the fork, tapping it lightly into the pink cake.
“It’s fine. Comfortable, even. But… we’re very lonely. Honestly we were so alone there that I’d go to the kitchens just to talk to the maids. As strange and frightening as the women of Harrenhal can be, I still ended up spending my days chatting with them. I can’t wait for the baby to be born.”
Laena took a bite of the cake, tasted it, hummed approvingly, and nodded.
Rhaenyra picked up her own plate and began eating her lemon cake.
“Yeah, I’ve heard people say all the women of Harrenhal are witches,” she joked, and both girls giggled quietly.
She couldn’t put into words how deeply she’d missed Laena. When they were little, they were inseparable. Laena had been Rhaenyra’s closest friend—someone she had known from the moment she opened her eyes to the world.
Their grandmother, Queen Alysanne the Good, used to tell them:
“Neither of you has a sister. So what’s wrong with becoming sisters to each other?”
And they had listened.
Every generation had its own “golden trio” of Targaryens.
First: King Aegon the Conqueror with his two sister-queens, Rhaenys and Visenya.
Second: Queen Rhaena of the East and West with her younger siblings, King Jaehaerys the Conciliator and Queen Alysanne the Good.
Third: Prince Aemon of Dragonstone with his younger siblings, Prince Baelon the Brave and Princess Alyssa the Red Queen.
Fourth: Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, with her younger cousins, Prince Viserys the Young King and Prince Daemon the Rogue.
And fifth: Princess Rhaenyra, Joy of the Realm, with her younger cousins—Lady Laena Velaryon and Ser Laenor Velaryon.
But now, Rhaenyra found herself smiling at a new golden trio:
'One day there will be King Aegon, Queen Helaena, and Prince Aemond.'
She hoped to hang a portrait of them as adults beside a portrait from their childhood—the days when Aegon had been six, Helaena four, and Aemond three.
But in the blink of an eye, they had grown, and a new baby had been added to their ranks—a child who would grow up chasing after older siblings who had grown without him.
The littlest one of the family, born into a world where the others were already far ahead of him.
Laena placed her hand over Rhaenyra’s where it rested on her lap.
“So… how have you been? Everything alright here? You’re not feeling lonely, are you?”
Her smile was warm—sunlight that melted the cold that had clung to Rhaenyra these past few years. The cold that Alicent had cast over her melted beneath Laena’s touch, her words, her presence.
Rhaenyra squeezed her hand back.
“Alicent gets on my nerves. Truly. I’d love nothing more than to smack her across the mouth. I’m not lonely, but she definitely is. The women pretend they like her when she’s around, talk to her politely, then turn their backs the moment she walks away.”
“Why?” Laena asked, confused. She had thought people would flock to the queen like sparrows.
As Laena took another bite of cake, Rhaenyra answered,
“Because everyone’s suspicious that the baby she had isn’t my father’s. His hair and eyes look nothing like either parent. You’ve seen Alicent—she’s not dark-haired. Her hair is honey-colored. Honestly, I can say it’s practically Lannister blond. And her eyes are dark—fine, maybe the eyes could take after the child, but the hair? Not at all.”
Rhaenyra sipped her orange juice.
“So there are rumors in the court…” Laena murmured.
Rhaenyra nodded and set the cup back on the table.
“Everyone is guessing who the real father is. They’re saying she couldn’t conceive with Viserys, so she pinned someone else’s child on him.”
“What does your father say about it?”
“What could he say? These days he only plays with his grandchildren. Says he’s old now and wants to put a chair in the garden and watch them run and grow.”
Rhaenyra scoffed and sank back against the seat.
Laena raised a brow, surprised by this answer.
“But uncle is only turning forty this year. He’s still young.”
“Well, someone should probably tell him that,” Rhaenyra muttered, rolling her eyes. Her father had been frustrating her endlessly.
“After he dismissed Otto, Daemon and I took over everything. I sit in my father’s place, and Daemon sits as Hand of the King. Honestly, I may be the Hand, but it feels more like I’m the king and Daemon is my Hand. Political affairs, diplomacy, disputes—everything is on my shoulders. And the military and the army fall entirely under Daemon’s command. The city’s secure.” Rhaenyra let out a tired groan and massaged her forehead.
“These days have been exhausting. I can’t even remember the last time I wasn’t tired. Honestly, dealing with Aegon trying to sneak off to the Dragonpit is easier than dealing with a bunch of stubborn old men.”
Laena joked and placed a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. “I thought dealing with Aegon would be the harder part.”
Rhaenyra laughed, still looking worn out. “Maybe. But those annoying old men are worse than Aegon. Aegon is my sweet honey. He’s funny.” She smiled. “Running a vast realm like Westeros was really difficult, especially at first—but the further I went, the more I learned, and everything became easier.”
The two cousins took bites of their cakes at the same time.
“Well, forget all that,” Rhaenyra said, turning her head slightly so she could fully see her closest friend. “After the baby is born, are you staying in Harrenhal?”
“No. No, we’re coming to King’s Landing a few weeks after the birth. It’s much better for the baby to grow up somewhere with other children around, to make friends—rather than grow up in Harrenhal, which feels like it’s surrounded by witches.”
Laena was right, and Rhaenyra nodded in agreement.
Rhaenyra began fiddling with her ring—by now a habit she couldn’t break.
“We need to get Daemon and Harwin to actually get along.” A mischievous smirk spread across Rhaenyra’s face.
“Daemon and Harwin? Can they even get along?”
“I think they can. From the way you describe them, they sound like each other’s missing halves.” Rhaenyra burst into laughter, and Laena let out a soft, silent laugh of her own while rubbing her stomach. Whenever she laughed, her blue eyes squeezed shut and faint lines appeared across her nose. Rhaenyra had truly missed the spark of excitement Laena always brought with her.
The turquoise dress Laena wore was embroidered with beautiful patterns. The sleeves split into elegant slits, with a long layer of sheer fabric attached that fell gracefully when she moved. It looked comfortable—perfect for a pregnant woman whose belly had grown large and who had likely spent days, if not weeks, on the road.
“Harwin and Daemon are from two completely different worlds,” Laena said.
“And so what? You and I were also from two different worlds, Laena.” She paused for a moment. “But that didn’t stop us from becoming close.”
It was the truth. Rhaenyra had always been adventurous, mischievous, always ready to joke and push boundaries just to see how far she could tease others. Laena, on the other hand, was quiet, calm, respectful to everyone, and deeply loved dragon riding. The girls were exactly like the symbols of their House:
Laena was water.
Rhaenyra was fire.
And from that, one of the most beautiful friendships had formed.
Laena’s golden hair fell over her shoulders, and when she leaned forward to grab her orange juice from the table, a few strands slipped over her face.
“I’m so excited to see which one of us the baby will look like—my silver hair and blue eyes, or Harwin’s black curls and brown eyes.” She spoke with genuine excitement.
“Your stomach is huge, Laena. Are you sure it’s not twins?” Rhaenyra asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know. The maesters said it might be twins. But for now, we’re counting it as one. Though honestly, we wouldn’t mind if it was twins.” Laena shrugged lightly.
Rhaenyra crossed her right leg over her left and leaned her elbow on the armrest of the couch, resting her temple against her palm.
“What are you going to name them?”
She already knew Laena had chosen baby names since childhood, but she wasn’t sure if Harwin had agreed to them—so she asked her now, after finally seeing her again.
Laena turned toward her with bright excitement, as if the question had given her wings. Rhaenyra felt that if she didn’t hold her down, she would fly straight into the ceiling.
“Harwin and I agreed that if it’s a girl, we’ll name her Baela or Rhaena. And if it’s a boy, we’ll name him Rowan or Aric. I told him I’d choose the girls’ names and he could choose the boys’, and he said ‘alright.’” Laena said happily, full of pure excitement.
As she spoke, Rhaenyra suddenly had a thought:
'Did I feed Daeron today?'
Her mind had been completely scattered—and why wouldn’t it?
Before dawn, Aegon had burst into her room at full speed and jumped onto the bed. Daemon, with a huge scowl, had gotten up and grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt to throw him out of the room (they had been gossiping together until late the night before).
Rhaenyra had barely managed to pull Aegon from his father’s grasp with a hundred repetitions of:
“He’s my baby, let go of him!”
or
“I’ll punch you in the mouth, Daemon!”
And so, with chaos already raging and Rhaenyra standing in front of her stubborn son like a ghost, trying to figure out where he had put the books delivered for him, the day had started.
And that alone had wiped out her morning until nearly ten.
Daemon wasn’t doing any better—he had dragged himself to the City Watch with dark circles under his eyes.
-----------
Aegon lifted his wooden sword higher and, taking a step forward, struck. Aemond caught the blow firmly and tried to counterattack his older brother, but the elder boy knew far better than the younger how to wield a sword. So he pressed his wooden blade tightly against his brother’s, giving Aemond no room to move or strike back.
Ser Erryk Cargyll was watching the boys from the side. “Aemond, put more strength into your hand so you can break through Aegon’s defense,” the large man shouted from across the yard.
Aemond nodded and tightened both hands around the wooden hilt. But no matter how hard he tried to push Aegon’s blade aside, Aegon held his sword even more firmly than before, his smirk widening as he practically locked Aemond’s sword in place.
Aegon brought his left foot forward, opposite of his right hand, grounding himself more solidly. Then, in one swift motion, he stepped closer and delivered a hard blow, knocking Aemond’s sword out of his hands and into the air. Aegon caught it easily with his free hand and slammed its tip against the ground. A smug grin spread across his face. “Again… I win.”
Aemond angrily kicked the pebbles on the ground. “You already knew how to do that. It’s basically cheating.”
“Ser Erryk doesn’t think so,” Aegon said with indifference as he held both wooden swords. He ruffled his younger brother’s slightly damp hair and bent down a little to match his height. “Little brother, I’ve always been a natural at swordplay. But since you’re my brother, maybe you’ll catch up to me someday.” He stuck his tongue out at the end of the sentence and quickly backed away before Aemond could kick him in the shin, laughing as he ran.
Aemond walked toward Ser Erryk to return the swords. The older man placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Go easy on him,” Erryk said honestly, clearly tired of Aegon’s hard-headedness.
“Men aren’t made by going easy, Ser Erryk,” Aegon replied, and with a wink, disappeared from his brother’s and Ser Erryk’s sight.
Aemond exhaled in frustration, and when he noticed Aegon walking away, he used the last of his energy to run after him. As he ran, he wiped the sweat on his forehead, neck, and cheeks with the back of his hand. Summer was slowly approaching, and the midday heat was becoming intense. Recently, they had been practicing in the yard nonstop, and Aegon had no mercy when it came to sparring with Aemond. Their father always said the battlefield was no place for mercy. Aemond didn’t mind that, but he definitely wasn’t in the mood to learn swordsmanship. Still, he had no choice but to learn.
Aemond finally caught up to Aegon and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, panting heavily. “You walk too fast…” he muttered.
Aegon turned his head to look at him. He wrapped an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “We have to walk fast, Aemond. We need to find Helaena.” Aegon tugged him along as they headed toward the great double staircase of the Red Keep.
“What stupid thing are you trying to do now?” Aemond asked, confused and suspicious as he glared at his brother.
Aegon flashed a mysterious smile. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, little brother.” He squeezed Aemond’s shoulder and nudged him forward to follow.
The two boys hurried up the stairs and reached the first floor. They turned right, and the first open doorway they saw drew them in. Helaena, wearing a light lavender dress, sat on a floor cushion with a piece of white cloth and golden thread in her hands, busy embroidering. Girls her age sat beside her, some watching the young princess with laughter and smiles, some with surprise, and some with complete normalcy.
Unlike the two boys, who were hot-tempered and a little rough, Helaena loved music, art, painting, and handcrafts like embroidery and cooking. She preferred bright colors and spring days. She liked fruit and cakes.
As soon as Aemond and Aegon approached Helaena, they drew the attention of everyone in the room — including Helaena’s friends.
The little girls, full of excitement, began staring at the young princes. It was as if the white-horse princes from their storybooks had suddenly turned into these small boys. With flushed cheeks, they whispered to one another eagerly. Aemond, looking utterly confused, stared back at their glances as if he couldn’t understand why they were behaving that way.
Aegon stepped closer to Helaena and knelt down beside her.
“Wanna go spend some time together?” he asked, trying to give her a tempting smile.
Helaena placed the cloth on her lap and leaned back against the wall.
“You mean you wanna cause trouble?” she replied, giving him that specific ‘I know we’re about to ruin everything again’ look.
That only made Aegon’s grin widen, his eyes narrowing with mischief.
“Obviously.”
Helaena didn’t need any further convincing. She pushed the cloth and thread aside and suddenly sprang to her feet.
“Great! Let’s go set King’s Landing on fire!” she cheered, lifting her hand excitedly and jumping up and down.
Aemond, watching Helaena’s enthusiasm with a look even more deadpan than usual, noticed Aegon’s arrogant, smug glance landing on him.
“May the gods give you some common sense, since clearly this one”—he pointed at his own head—“isn’t useful to either of you,” he muttered under his breath and turned to leave. But Helaena grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back.
“Are you ready to set King’s Landing on fire with us?” she asked, her voice dripping with excitement.
Aemond brushed her hand off with a perfectly blank expression.
“Yeah, no.”
Aegon stepped forward.
“Not that much, dear sister.”
The sparkle in Helaena’s eyes faded instantly. Aegon placed both hands on her shoulders, leaned in, and looked directly at her slightly disappointed face.
“Instead… we’re gonna set the castle on fire!”
Matching smirks appeared on both their faces at the same time. Meanwhile, the tiny sliver of hope Aemond had—thinking maybe some sanity still existed in his brother’s head—crumbled completely.
“I’d love to know from which swamp they fished you out,” Aemond muttered sarcastically.
Aegon rolled his eyes.
“You’re way too sassy for someone your age, Aemond.”
Aegon couldn’t have cared less about anything—least of all the looks they were getting from the other children, the maids, and the tutors in the room. Helaena, too, didn’t spare a single thought for what others might think. Aegon simply wanted to live out the advice everyone always gave him: enjoy your childhood while you can, before responsibilities fall on your shoulders. And he was determined to enjoy it with the sweetest little moments—moments created by him and his younger siblings.
“You do realize other people are in the room, right?” Aemond grumbled at him.
Instead of answering, Aegon simply ruffled his hair. Aemond hated when anyone messed up his hair—and Aegon absolutely loved doing it. Unlike Aegon’s shorter curls, Aemond had slightly longer, soft straight hair—hair made to be messed up.
Aegon placed his hands on the backs of his younger brother and sister and began pushing them toward the door. Helaena, apparently waiting for exactly that moment, shot out of the room with such speed that the gust of air she left behind made Aemond’s hair and clothes flutter.
Aemond turned his head toward Aegon. “Yeah, go on, keep encouraging him so he can literally tear the whole castle down on us.” He rolled his eyes, his voice full of dry sarcasm.
Aegon shrugged. “Honestly, you deserve to have the castle fall on you.”
He shot his younger brother a glare, then nudged him forward with a light kick. “Move it, you dysfunctional gremlin.”
“You’re the dysfunctional one,” Aemond muttered back.
Aegon nudged him again. “If I tell people my dear brother doesn’t just misunderstand the term ‘social anxiety’ but doesn’t even know what it means, they’ll lose their minds.”
Aemond shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking toward the door with exaggerated nonchalance.
Hearing a word he clearly didn’t understand, Aegon raised his brows and hurried after him. “Social what?”
He leaned over Aemond’s shoulder so he could see his face.
“I literally just said you don’t know that word.”
“So? Explain it,” Aegon said, mocking him.
“Explain what, sweetheart?”
It was an old inside joke between them.
On Aemond’s birthday — the one in the year 114 — Aegon had, with complete seriousness, placed two pears in front of him.
Aemond, whose default expression in life seemed to be confusion, looked up with a blank stare. “Okay… and?”
Aegon just said, “And what?”
Aemond thought, 'Is this really my birthday gift?'
Aegon lifted his hand and gave him a beautifully dramatic middle finger.
Helaena, watching the scene, said, “I’ve never seen anyone give someone pears as a birthday present.”
And Aegon replied, “Well, you being five years old doesn’t help your perspective.”
Aemond had asked, “So? Explanation?”
And Aegon repeated, “Explanation for what, sweetheart?”
Aemond remembers the ridiculous, clownish look on his brother’s face perfectly. Whenever he’s upset, he thinks about it — and ends up laughing so hard he can barely breathe.
When they reached the staircase landing, both of them glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly turned left and walked straight ahead—fast, but not too fast.
So what were they going to do?
Nothing new. Just annoy Alicent Hightower like they always did.
“Got it, Hel?” Aegon asked under his breath as they walked, trying not to look suspicious.
Helaena, in full Inspector Gadget mode, gave a small nod. “Brought the charcoal.”
Aemond, as usual, looked at his older siblings with a silent “God help you idiots” expression.
Though honestly, he enjoyed their troublemaking too. He never admitted it, but since he didn’t have many friends, spending time with his brother and sister meant more to him than he let on.
Alicent’s room was on the same floor.
When they reached the door and saw no guards inside, they knew Alicent and little Jacaerys weren’t there. The baby was about five or six months old now, growing stronger by the day—Daeron too, who was thriving.
(Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond had actually held a “council meeting” a few days earlier to discuss when Daeron would be old enough to join their “elite society.” They took this very seriously.)
Aegon quietly pushed the door open and let his younger siblings slip inside first. Then he shut it behind them.
The three of them stood in front of the large wall facing the Green Queen’s bed and stared at it with theatrical seriousness.
“Remind me to have this entire room fumigated when I’m king,” Aegon said, hands at his sides like he was preparing for a battle cry.
Their palms smacked loudly against his in a three-way high five.
“Nice line,” Aemond smirked, mischief curling at the edge of his lips.
“What do you say we write that on the wall too?”
Helaena grinned, and Aegon flashed a wicked smile. They both nodded eagerly.
Helaena pulled the charcoal pieces from the bag she’d brought, handed one to Aegon, and she and Aemond started doodling nonsense across the wall.
Aemond decided to draw the Targaryen three-headed dragon.
Helaena went for a portrait of Queen Alysanne—her sketching was actually very good. All she had were the portraits around the castle to work from, plus the way her parents spoke about Alysanne. But her grandfather’s stories were the ones she trusted most; he’d actually known the queen in her youth.
Each of them focused on their masterpiece.
Aegon, after scrawling the big bold line across the wall, began writing a list of the Targaryen queens and family members Alicent couldn’t stand—essentially half the dynasty.
Alicent very clearly despised several of them:
First was Queen Visenya the Conqueror—Alicent only ever viewed women as vessels for childbirth and nothing more, so of course she couldn’t stand Visenya.
Second was Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror, because both sisters had been warriors… and Rhaenys had died in battle, something Alicent found “improper” for a woman.
Then there was Queen Rhaena, the Black Bride—Alicent disliked her simply because she wasn’t soft and compliant like Queen Alysanne. Rhaena was stubborn, unyielding, exactly as every Targaryen should be.
Alicent also hated Maegor the Cruel.
Aegon did too, obviously—who didn’t?
But unlike Alicent, Aegon’s reasoning was simple:
“I can call him a monster because he’s family. But she? he married alys just because he cant stand alicent's family member. Please. Choke on it.”
The next person on Alicent’s hate list was Princess Alyssa—Aegon’s own grandmother.
That one truly made no sense to him. Why would anyone dislike his grandmother? She was good. She was kind. But then again… Alicent seemed allergic to any woman who was strong, capable, or had ever held a sword. Probably because deep down she knew she herself would never be anything but small.
Alicent also despised Princess Viserra, Princess Saera, Princess Daella, Queen Aemma, and—naturally—Aegon’s mother and father.
So Aegon wrote down every single one of their names.
And every one of their accomplishments.
His grandmother would have made a far better queen than this petty, bitter woman. At least Queen Aemma had cared about people; at least the people had loved her.
Aegon couldn’t wait to be old enough to say all of this straight to Alicent’s face—without anyone brushing it aside with, “Oh, it’s just Aegon joking again, don’t mind him.”
------------
Rhaenyra pushed her hair back again and resumed pacing the room. Daemon, who had been following her back-and-forth until he was on the verge of dizziness, finally spoke up.
“Gods, girl—sit down for two minutes. My head is spinning. How’s yours not?” he muttered, sounding exhausted.
Rhaenyra turned toward him and stopped right in front of where he sat. Daemon tilted his head back against the throne-like chair, finally getting a proper view of his wife’s face. She looked worried.
That alone was enough to make him straighten in his seat.
He gave her a look that clearly meant Alright, what is it?
Rhaenyra hesitated, unsure whether to speak, then decided to just rip the bandage off. She gathered her skirts and lowered herself to her knees in front of him.
Daemon did not expect that. His gaze dropped instantly.
“…Do you want me to get up so you can sit here instead?”
“No.”
She paused. “After Daeron was born, I started nursing him. And you know I hate wet nurses, so I breastfed him myself. So I… kind of forgot that periods exist. I didn’t get them for months, and since I wasn’t pregnant again, it just slipped my mind entirely.”
“So are you having one now?”
Daemon never understood any of this. All he knew was that when Rhaenyra was on her cycle, he needed to protect everyone else from her.
Rhaenyra shook her head. “That’s the problem. I should have gotten it by now. Daeron’s almost a year old. My last one was—honestly—nearly a year and ten months ago.”
“And that means… what, exactly?”
Daemon looked as if she were speaking High Valyrian backwards.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. She shifted closer and put her hands on his knees.
“It means either I’m pregnant… or my body just randomly decided it doesn’t want to cycle anymore.”
She said it so suddenly that Daemon just froze. Staring at the floor for a long moment before snapping back.
“…The fifth one,” he whispered.
He leaned back again, elbow on the armrest, massaging his temple.
“Daemon, are we building an army? This would be the fifth. I swear I do not have the strength to raise this many humans.”
Rhaenyra sank fully onto the floor. Daemon licked his lips.
“Congratulations,” he said dryly. “Number five is on the way.”
“Number five is on the way…” she echoed under her breath.
The two of them sat there like absolute idiots, staring around the room in stunned silence.
Then, simultaneously, they turned toward each other and blurted out:
“Please let it not be another boy.”
They blinked—then burst out laughing.
Daemon reached his hands toward her. She knew exactly what that meant. She took them and let him pull her up into his lap. One of his hands settled on her hips, while her hands rested on his shoulders.
“I cannot handle another boy. Not if he’s going to be anything like his brothers. No family should have to survive four boys,” she murmured.
Daemon nodded. “I want a girl. I’ll name her Eleyna. Matches Helaena.”
“No,” she shot back. “We’ll name her Visenya.”
“If Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron find out their names were almost Visenya, they’ll lose their minds.”
Daemon smirked, mischief shining in his eyes.
Rhaenyra chuckled softly. “After our daughter was born, we named her Helaena instead.”
She ran her fingers slowly through Daemon’s silver hair as he pulled her closer, resting his head against her chest.
“It just didn’t feel right,” she murmured. “Helaena had that blue-butterfly aura from the second she was born. Way too gentle to be a Visenya.”
“Exactly.”
She hesitated a second, then asked quietly:
“We’re saying all this… but how would you feel if I’m actually not pregnant?”
That wiped the grin right off Daemon’s face. His eyes darkened.
“…It would break my heart.”
“Same,” she admitted. “I don’t care if it’s a girl or not—those were just jokes. I just… wanted someone closer in age for Daeron. The age gap between him and the others is a bit much.”
She rested her chin on top of Daemon’s head, wrapping her arms around him. He held her tighter.
“I know—”
But he didn’t finish, because a scream echoed from downstairs.
Rhaenyra startled so hard she jumped in his arms. Daemon immediately grabbed her, and they both rushed out of the room, racing down the stairs.
They found a crowd gathered around Alicent’s door. Both of them frowned.
Daemon instinctively pushed Rhaenyra slightly behind him and moved toward the door.
“What is she screaming about?” he asked Ser Arryk.
“Her Grace discovered someone wrote… unpleasant things on her wall,” Arryk said honestly.
Daemon and Rhaenyra shoved through the crowd and stepped inside. Ignoring Alicent—who looked like all the blood had drained from her face—they stared at the wall.
“When I’m king, remind me to fumigate this room.”
They muttered it at the exact same time.
Rhaenyra scowled. Daemon smirked in pure pride.
Then both whispered one more thing, together:
“Aegon.”
-------------
Aegon let out a loud, sharp sneeze, then wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
“Someone’s talking about me again,” he muttered.
“I think they just discovered your masterpiece,” Aemond said as he shoved a couch cushion under his head and made himself comfortable.
Aegon casually propped his feet up on the table and smirked.
“They’re welcome.”
He turned his head toward Helaena, who had fallen asleep quietly and innocently on the couch to his left. Her long silver strands had fallen across her face. Aegon gently brushed them aside.
The smirk faded—replaced by a warm, soft smile.
Notes:
Hi my sweet little darlings! How are you? It’s Dani talking, and it’s been raining nonstop since yesterday!
I was feeling down yesterday and told my best friend that even if I laugh, it doesn’t really feel like a real laugh. And my friend told me, “The sky was crying for you instead.”
Such a beautiful line. :)I finished this chapter in the middle of the night, fully soaked in that rainy mood. It felt so good, I had such a great time writing it.
We finally got to see the friendship Lena and Rhaenyra should’ve had—the one HBO stole from us. They’re adorable together. :)
They’re even trying to make Daemon and Harwin friends now 😂
Aegon, completely out of nowhere, decided it was the perfect time to be all emotional about his parents’ relationship.
Daemon, who was losing his precious free time with his wife because of Aegon, was this close to choking him out.
Rhaenyra was like: “Let go of my innocent silver-haired boy!”
And both of them stepped back because each one thought she meant the other.
(Daemon thought she was talking about himself, Aegon thought she meant himself) 💀Aemond and Aegon >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Their dynamic is EVERYTHING.
Aemond is the perfect example of the serious, stoic younger brother, and Aegon is the chaotic dumbass older brother.And now it’s finally time to complete our golden trio 🔥
The boys went to find Helaena so they could take her along and absolutely wreck Alicent’s entire room.When the whole gang is together™
Are you guys as obsessed with this golden trio of little troublemakers as I am?
Helaena’s friends are literally crushing on the boys—
Well, they are Rhaenyra and Daemon’s kids, after all.Our golden trio:
The snarky older brother who couldn’t care less about anything in the world
(the clown of the group)The middle sister who wants nothing except to have fun and sprinkle a little joy everywhere
(the sweetheart of the group)And the younger brother who is this close to running away into the wilderness because of the other two
(the “voice of reason” of the group)I love them so much :(
They even want to recruit Daeron into the squad.
I’m obsessed with how they went and absolutely ruined the wall of Alicent’s room.
Pure chaos. Pure perfection.Congratulations, everyone — we have officially entered the “fifth baby era”!
Daemon cannot keep his hands off his wife for even two minutes, honestly.
I love Daemyra so much :(
They’re adorable. And the fact that it doesn’t even matter whether Rhaenyra is actually pregnant or not—they still want this baby…
I’m gonna cry.It took them less than a few seconds to realize the disaster on Alicent’s wall was obviously the handiwork of their eldest son.
Well, that’s it until the next chapter!
Make sure you show lots of love, leave comments, and share your thoughts.
Goodbye for now! 💛
Nychtas on Chapter 1 Fri 07 Nov 2025 02:17PM UTC
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rhaenyxdaemonratargaryen on Chapter 1 Tue 11 Nov 2025 11:14AM UTC
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Angela (Guest) on Chapter 1 Fri 12 Dec 2025 06:05PM UTC
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elenistica5 on Chapter 2 Fri 07 Nov 2025 09:48AM UTC
Last Edited Fri 07 Nov 2025 09:49AM UTC
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rhaenyxdaemonratargaryen on Chapter 2 Tue 11 Nov 2025 11:13AM UTC
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Nychtas on Chapter 2 Fri 07 Nov 2025 02:32PM UTC
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rhaenyxdaemonratargaryen on Chapter 3 Sat 15 Nov 2025 09:28AM UTC
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Nychtas on Chapter 3 Fri 14 Nov 2025 06:50PM UTC
Last Edited Fri 14 Nov 2025 06:50PM UTC
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rhaenyxdaemonratargaryen on Chapter 3 Sat 15 Nov 2025 09:29AM UTC
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