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charlottedabookworm · 1 year

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for the and I didn't like the ending: perhaps a 5+1 thing of the people around Art!Aegon noticing how touch starved/messed up he is? like the failed hug scene with Leanor.

Alternatively, the moment where Viserys suddenly becomes viscerally aware that his son only cares about him in a "professional" sense tied to his identity as king and Aegons "responsibilities" as a prince but could not give any less of a fuck about him personally.

this maybe got away from me a little lol

also i have no idea how coherent this is but it's officially Late here so I'm going to bed enjoy people realising that actually egg might be thought starved the poor boy he's still running away for most of this

(0)

The thing is-

The thing is that now Egg has noticed, he cannot stop noticing.

The thing is that once, so long ago that his breath catches in his lungs, he'd been raised with a dozen sisters who would run their fingers through his hair of a night. He'd had rough hands curl around his arms daily as he'd trained with George and the boys, and he'd pressed shoulder to knee with Wet Stick and Back Lack in narrow alleys as they'd hidden from nobles with lighter pockets.

Once, a lifetime ago, Art had had Tristan's arm slung around his shoulders as they both laughed. He'd had Blue's tiny body curled at his side of a night, his nephew-son ever-haunted by his father's death. He'd had his sisters and his knights and the Mage rolling her eyes at it all even as she shouldered past him to deal with whatever it was he was being a baby about.

Once.

He hadn't noticed.

But Helaena does not like touch and he is used to this, he can understand it, and Aemond has already deemed himself too old for the casual touches of childhood. His nephews are affectionate, yet never with him, and it leaves a lump in his throat. His father... he does not think his father has held him since he still toddled.

And Egg has never been his mother's favoured child, even when he was her only child.

(How hadn't he noticed?)

Cold flame licks at his shoulders and his chest aches as he remembers the warmth of Ser Laenor's arm. The burning-scalding-warmth of another's touch and he-

Aegon aches.

It aches.

(When is the last time he touched someone outside of the training yard?)

It burns and-

He presses himself into the corner of his rooms, walls tight against his shoulders, and wraps his arms around his knees in a bare semblance of a hug.

It's cold.

(1)

"Like this, Jace."

He frowns, teeth tugging at his lips even as he allowed his uncle to prod his limbs into place with quick, there-and-gone touches. "It feels odd."

Qȳbor Egg grins. "It will, but-" his uncle pokes him in the chest, pushing against him in a way that would have seen him falling before, and then pulling away. "See?"

His eyes widen. "I see," he says, nodding, even as he glances down at his feet. They don't look that different, so how-

"Prince Aegon!"

He flinches, ducking his head as Ser Criston Cole's voice barks across the courtyard.

Egg rolls his eyes, but stands straight nonetheless, his grin fading as he walks towards the knight.

Jace's frown widens as he watches his uncle walk away.

"We should hug him," his brother says, curling into his side the way he always does, and he can hear the matching frown in his words. "He looks sad."

Aegon always looks sad, Jace thinks, even when he's happy. Instead, he shakes his head and curls his arm around his brother. "Qȳbor doesn't like hugs," he reminds his brother. He wishes he did.

He doesn't like that he's so sad when there's nothing they can do to help.

"I know," Luke says, mournful, and his fingers tangle in the tail of his tunic in the same way he does with muña. "He's like Hel so we're not allowed to hug him unless he hugs us first."

His brother sounds about as happy with it as Jace feels.

Their uncle really looks like he needs a hug.

"Come on, valonqar. Let's go and find kepa, maybe he'll let us ride on Seasmoke with him."

(2)

"Aegon!"

His goodbrother blinks at him. "Ser Laenor?"

He winces, clasping his hand to his chest theatrically in the way that always has Rhaenyra and their boys smiling. "Come, cousin," he continues in Valyrian as the boy's lips twitch. "Call me Laenor, if I can convince you of nothing else."

"Oh?"

The raised brow and sharp look that Aegon gives him is so Rhaenyra that he could laugh. Instead, he places his best encouraging smile upon his lips and moves slowly closer. "The boys are begging for us to spar again, this time when they can watch."

Aegon pauses.

Something that Laenor recognises but cannot name flickers across his eyes, leaving him with the sinking feeling of diving deep on Seasmokes back, fires flaring on the beach below, the wind whirling around them as they fall-

"Qȳbranna?" He reaches out, slowly, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

His goodbrother flinches.

It is the barest of movements, undetectable but for the fact that Laenor can feel it, and he opens his mouth-

"Well, Leanor," Aegon says, clapping him on the shoulder and moving away swiftly. A smile on his lips like he hadn't- "We cannot leave Jace and Luke waiting."

Seasmoke roars distantly in his ears.

Mayhaps, Aegon is simply like Helaena, in that they both abhor unwanted touch. It would not be uncommon, after all. Perhaps Aegon simply dislikes touch that he does not initiate.

Watching his cousins' hands shake subtly, remembering the barest of instants where his goodbrother had leaned into the touch before pulling away, Leanor doesn't think so.

(3)

The words leave his lips as soon he thinks of them.

"Is Aegon angry with me?"

Helaena turns, her eyes clear and sharp, and the confusion is so clear upon her face that he relaxes before she speaks. "Why would Aegon be angry with you?"

Aemond slumps in his seat. "I do not know," he says carefully, sounding each of the words out like how Mother says he must. A Prince must not mispronounce his words or one would think him a simpleton. "He simply-"

"Valonqar."

"He doesn't hug me anymore," he bursts out, too loud and too angry and Mother will be so disappointed. Egg already is disappointed in him because: "I know I shouldn't have said that about Jace and Luke and I apologised to them but lēkia is still mad at me and-"

Gentle fingers wrap around his wrist.

He freezes.

Helaena squeezes gently, her hand a grounding brand of heat, before she pulls away. "Aemond, valonqar - Aegon is not angry with you, I swear."

He isn't? Then- "Why doesn't he hug me anymore?"

His mandia's eyes flicker closed and she looks like Father does, when something reminds him of the old Queen.

"If you ask him for a hug, he would be glad to give you one," is all she says, though.

All he has to do is ask?

(But Mother has said he's too old to be asking his brother for hugs, Aegon has duties after all, he doesn't have the time to be pandering to him anymore)

"If I ask, Aegon will hug me again?" The words feel small on his tongue. Wrong. He shouldn't need to-

"I promise"

(4)

The temperature in King's Landing may never reach as bitterly cold as it does in Harrenhall, but the storms are something that Harwin has yet to become used to.

Within less than a candle's width of time, clear skies have turned black with an endless downpouring that turns packed mud into slippery pits. Harwin feels nothing but relief when he calls the rest of the training session off, desperate to be both warm and dry once more, when he notices a figure that hasn't joined the rush to leave.

"Your Highness?"

Prince Aegon startles and slips in the sludge beneath their feet.

He winces. "Sorry, my Prince," Harwin says, reaching down to help the mud-covered boy to his feet.

The Prince eyes him, gaze flickering from his hand to his stance, and then takes a bracing breath that has his eyes narrowing slightly.

Laenor had mentioned something about this, had he not-

And then Harwin is pulling the Prince to his feet, holding firm until the boy has his feet beneath him just as he would for any of the younger Princes.

"My thanks, Ser Harwin," Prince Aegon says and his gaze is still fixed on his hand. There's a rough edge to his voice, like Luke after a nightmare, and Harwin-

"My Prince, are you-"

Thunder crackles above them.

Harwin startles and his feet slide beneath him; he releases the prince so the boy does not take a second fall in the mud. For a heartbeat, he flounders, until he finds his legs once more.

When he looks up, Prince Aegon is already halfway to the door.

(+1)

Rhaenyra has never been close to her half-brother.

She hadn't wanted to be when he was younger. Not when he was borne of Alicent and her father's betrayal. Not when Aegon lived when so many of Rhaenyra's other siblings didn't - not even Baelon, who was so small, who her mother had died for, who had died anyway. She had burnt her brother's pyre, Rhaenyra had thought all those years ago, and she had no need for another.

She had been a grieving child, angry at the world and those who should have known better, and she had taken it out upon the children by simply ignoring them.

She has been trying to be better, now, because her sons inspire her to be better, and her siblings deserve better. Aemma Arynn had died trying to give her father a son and the man hardly acknowledged him. Any of them. And Alicent-

Her childhood friend had always thought their customs queer. And now all of her children are so obviously Valyrian, with all those same queer customs...

No, her siblings deserve better. She has much to make up for and there is much she can never make up for.

Laenor and Harwin- she loves them, but men can be dense at times. They've discussed their meetings with Aegon, his odd reactions to touch, and both men recognise it is different to Helaena but they do not understand.

Rhaenyra does not wish them to.

They do not see what she does in Aegon and that is, perhaps, a good thing. Their boys do not see it either, only that their qȳbor is not fond of hugs, and Rhaenyra loves that they do not know this feeling.

It is memories of a time long past that have her gathering her heaviest cloak, one that has not seen use since her marriage, before she wanders the halls of the Red Keep to find her errant valonqar.

"Aegon," she murmurs as she finds him, staring out at King's Landing proper.

"Mandia?" He turns and-

She drapes the cloak upon his shoulders with a solid thud, watching with amusement as his eyes widen and he stumbles with the weight of it. Her lips twitch.

Her fingers clasp the cloak closed carefully.

"I have a cloak already?" Her brother asks, his face twisted in the same confused expression that Jace uses.

Rhaenyra stands beside him, a fingerwidth away, and stares out at King's Landing as he was. "None so heavy as this one," she says with quiet assurance. The only winter since Aegon had been born had been a mild and short one, even his winter clothes were light. "The weight may help."

He falls silent.

"You- I-"

"Tell me of my sons' lessons."

Aegon does.

(And if he ends up drifting closer, until their shoulders barely brush, until he can lean into her just the smallest amount-

there is no one but the two of them on this covered rampart to know it)

#and i didn't like the ending verse #my fic #didn't expect this to go like it did #but i was thinking that actually rhaenyra probably didn't have much interaction outside of maids n stuff #for a good year or two #what with her best n only close friend marrying her father her brother being born a #and then daemon going off to war and rhaenyra having to go on her husband hunt #she definitely knows how it feels to be a little skin hungry #aegon's situation is different obvs but she relates best of any of them (cos helaena knows but isn't comfy doing anything cos touch)#anyway rhae/laenor/harwin are one big poly coparenting mess that gets even messier when daemon/laena come back to kings landing #ask #hotd #legend of the sword #thiefinwhite

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