Aegon:
How did he feel? Aegon wondered as he stared out at the small specks on the ground far below him that scurried about and did their duties. Sitting on the Kingspyre's bridge he shifted his stiff and uncomfortable feet and payed for it immediately as the stinging in his arm then grew unbearable due to the small motion. His arm was still held stiff and tied tightly with the leather brace Marwyn had put together for him and it seemed to have hidden his injury quite well unless the lords and courtiers were just being polite by not mentioning it and they did well not to stare at it for too long. Did he care that he sentenced countless men, women, and children to a horrible death? He knew about the curse very well as Marwyn had tried to give him frights with the tales of the curse when he was still just a boy, but it never worked as his teacher had already taught him of the true danger in this world being in men and not of legends. And I sleep in that very lopsided and accursed tower where Harren and his family roasted alive.
Aegon saw several banners being struck in the distance and surmised it was due to the wind which was blowing quite fiercely, and cold for that matter. "Did you care of how many you killed? Did you blink an eye?" He asked the wind foolishly as if he had hoped it would answer back, but it did not and it never would. "Most likely not ... you said dracarys and then the many screams followed it." Did he think it was justice? KingHarren the Black was known far and wide as an evil tyrant who callously enslaved and used up human life in the pursuit of his own vanity. Most called him evil and mayhaps he was.
"Robert Baratheon and his evil, murderous monsters are to blame." Aegon had once said to Marwyn many years ago after he childishly whined that he had no mother after getting jealous of the attention Meryn Grandison received from his mother after wounding his arm in the squire ground.
Marwyn was rarely gentle in his words or lessens and that time was no different. "You complain like a sniveling craven, that is not what you truly are." It was quick and just as hard as the man knew how to strike him. It had always hurt, but it never once broke teeth or skin like always, just a quick strike with the back of the hand to remind him. "What was it you asked of me?" When he would not answer and simply remain silent to wipe away any stray tears, his mentor would restate the question louder.
"Teach me how to be a King." His voice had been high-pitched and he seemed to remember that his nose was dripping at the time just like the sniveling craven he was accused of being.
"And who did I make you promise you would never turn out to be?" That was one promise Aegon would never break for as long as he would live, and it gave him strength and pride to remember it.
Sometimes he wondered if it was awful for a child to have such feelings and talk of a parent in such a way, but his father was dead and what did it matter what he thought. "Aegon the Unworthy for his lust and desire of the flesh. Daeron the Young Dragon for his foolish vanity and bravado. Baelor the Blessed for his zealously and blindness to happenstance. Aerys the Mad for becoming evil and for letting his madness consume him." The last name stuck in his throat for the briefest moment and he had hoped Marwyn noticed not. "And my father, Rhaegar Targaryen, for his selfishness and obsession which put me in this very place and situation."
"Aerys was not evil, evil is not something you are or become. It's a label and accusation made up by men that they then use to attribute to the actions and people of an enemy." He was right, though Aegon only understood the truth in those words many years later when he was mature enough to actually listen and not simply nod his head.
"Seven years of age was not nearly old enough to understand the wisdom in those words." Aegon murmured just as a stray branch in the distance snapped from a dead tree and came crashing down to the ground outside of Harrenhal. From the bridge connecting the Kingspyre to Widow's Tower he continued to study and watch the lords, squires, servants, and soldiers work and toil down below him. From the laziest man to the hardest worker, he could see them all and who of them deserved actual appreciation that they would most likely never receive in this lifetime. Is this how all Kings must look at their subjects? From above, and judge down on them like some sort of God? He then cracked a smile as he realized that it might be helpful if he could actually make out their faces from this high of a height.
He knew that as a King he had to hope that no one was looking for him at the moment so that fate would allow him some more time for reflection. But in truth he did not care if anyone was looking for him and if they actually needed to find him they did not have to look too hard to find him. Aegon knew it was not kind, but he hoped it was not his cousin or her shadow Ser Daemon Sand. Anytime she pulls close to me it's another chance she will discover the brace and of my injury. And that was what he knew he should only care about, but the pain of his injury would become unbearable whenever a light breeze blew past it and human contact was something far worse than that. Ser Daemon would always stiffen up when she would touch him and that gave Aegon even greater concern of his life around the Dornish knight, he could hardly fight a child if he tried his absolute best and the supposed best sword of Dorne was far out of his league while he was still in this condition as much as he hated to admit it.
The thought of those two together did serve to give his belly a quick lurch and his right hand shot to it in hopes of coaxing it away with a series of light rubs. Paramours. He said over and over in his mind trying to get accustomed to the seemingly foreign word. Why do you swear yourself to marriage just to turn your back on them to be with another? Do words and vows mean nothing in Dorne? He knew that she believed in her heart of hearts that she would be Queen, but could she truly handle those duties and was she who he needed to find? For all he knew he could have already lost her, it could have been a peasant, a Lords or daughter, or even Sansa for all he knew. Though it did seem amusing to think that it would have been the one girl who hated him the most in this world.
He knew it was just his heart speaking, and he could not listen to that part of himself when he was thinking as a King. "You're not a man, you're a King and a King must be more than a man and put his feelings above his decisions for the good of the realm." Aegon smiled and knew he was just being foolish. Many don't even meet their spouses until the day of the wedding and are complete strangers to each other. But yet he knew that it was wrong and so were they on the subject of lovers and paramours. We all must make sacrifices in life, and is it such an inconvenience? "Obviously it must be ... correct, father? You had two healthy children and a loving woman who nearly killed herself to give them to you, but yet it was not enough for you." Just the thought of the man disgusted him to no end and to express himself he spat over the edge of the bridge and watched it land on the roof of the monstrous in size stables. "You thought you loved that girl, so you stole her and ran off to Gods know where to fuck her. Or mayhaps I give you far too much credit, perhaps you didn't love her and simply wanted to just fuck her for a time before returning her to her family."
He unsteadily climbed back to his feet and looked behind him and over the castle's walls towards the clearing where the tourney of Harrenhal was once held all those years ago, when he was still just a babe at the breast. The very same tourney where the supposed Last Dragon passed by his loving wife and gave the honor of being the Queen of love and beauty to another. But what is love if not a fruitless endeavor that always ends the same way? Alys Rivers watched her beloved do the dance over this very castle and then she watched him fall back down to the earth like a piece of rotten fruit. Aegon reached down and felt the ornate handle of Dark Sister, which sat at his side, and he was reminded that it was the very same blade that had killed Aemond One-Eye. Daemon Targaryen himself loved the dragonseed Nettles if the histories were to be believed, and the some of the smallfolk even claimed he lived passed the dance and reunited with her across the Narrow Sea. But those were just foolish dreams and hopes that children and women loved to supp on in their dreams. Someone is always pained in love, but I do hope she was worth it, father. It brought to his mind one of the many faiths worshiped by the Lyseni and of the dominant faith in the Summer Isles, which all had one thing in common. Love will save us all ... no this is what love brings to this world, simple death, destruction, pain, and sorrow.
The footsteps behind him where small and quiet and very fast. I did not even hear the hum this time. Aegon spun around in the idea of seeing the Night-Walker, but to his surprise it was the bright-eyed, auburn haired boy who reminded him so much of himself at that age. Especially the more he began to learn of him and of the facade of emotions he used to great effect on people. "Do you need something, Rickon?"
"No, I was just going for a walk, your Grace." It would have sufficed for an answer if it did not come from him, or if Aegon did not care enough to question him.
But he did and it was obvious that if Rickon was going for a walk then he would not be here in the castle, he would be with his direwolf and hunting something. "To the Widow's Tower? Is there something there you're wishing to see?" The Stark boy shook his head and Aegon lightly chuckled and sat back down on the edge of the bridge and let his legs hang freely off the edge. "Come and sit with me, I'd like someone to speak with ... unless it interferes with your walk of course." The Stark boy did not waste much time at all before doing as he bid and sitting down beside him and kicking his feet and back and fro into the breath of the cold air. "So tell me true, what is this I've heard about you not wanting to go to Riverrun with your sister and nuncle?" He had heard Ser Brynden mumbling something about it into his breakfast that morn and of how sad it was that the boy did not remember anything of his family or of how important it was for him to send off his mother's funeral boat.
Rickon shrugged his shoulders and it drew Aegon's attention to how long and ragged his hair really was. He imagined that the Stark boy would be resistant to having it trimmed or groomed if he let it get this long in the first place. He did not know when the time would come when he would have to force him, but it would be necessary very soon if his Lord of the North was to look presentable to his betrothed. "It seems to me like you've already heard all there is to tell, your Grace." Rickon answered back without looking at anything in particular, but he seemed to be pretending that he saw something interesting in the far off horizon.
"Except for why you don't want to go. Your sisters would very much wish for you to be there." And it is what a man should do for his family. But Rickon was not a man, just a small boy who has grown up far too quickly in this violent world and now is confused on how he should act. It held a dull pain for Aegon anytime the boy would speak and remind him of what he once was long ago. Verbal Practicality is the bane of social constructs. Marwyn had told him as a child and like many things he was told at that time, he did not fully understand what it meant.
Lord Eddard Stark's youngest child answered quickly and without any seeming enthusiasm besides for the speed at which he spoke. "I don't want to, I don't know them and they don't know me."
"But you need to start getting to know them eventually. Your sister Sansa will no doubt be grief-stricken when she learns of your mother, and you being there will help her greatly I'm sure." Or mayhaps I'll be blamed for her mother's death too, and she'll accuse me of turning her only brother into this. It never ceased to boggle him and as such he spent little to no time thinking about the new Lady Arryn. He had no time to ponder the minds of married woman, he was not his father. After the wars all finally ended, she and her beloved Harrold would go back to the Vale, and he would be her problem from then on thankfully. It would be a hard life and it would not be easy for her, he knew that and she must know that now herself he presumed. She had the rare luxury of choosing her own fate and now she must live with the consequences, like we all must.
He had almost forgotten he was speaking to another person and his thoughts must had strongly overtaken him due to the length of silence before Rickon spoke up again. "Are you commanding me, your Grace?"
Clever boy. Aegon had regretted his promise to Rickon of late the more he thought on it. How was he supposed to know the boy would not only remember, but use it against him to such great effect. He was simply trying to comfort a crying child who had lost his mother. "No, I'm not." It would cause a divide, how great he did not know, but at the moment he did not see how it could be helped without breaking his promise. "If you wish to, you may stay with me for as long as you desire. I won't deny you a friend or home for as long as I breathe."
Rickon picked at a crevice in the stone bridge and loosened a pebble. "I do wish to stay and I accept your offer, your Grace." It had slowly irritated him, but now it was becoming rather entertaining how formal this boy acted and how obvious it was that his heart was not into it.
"You don't need to use titles when we are alone, Rickon. If you feel the need to refer to me as something then use my name, it isn't hard to say." Aegon watched as Rickon's small hand slowly lifted out over the bridge and lingered in the air.
The boy's hand looked to be loosening and it hurt his arm to move so quickly, but Aegon seized Rickon's hand before it opened and dropped the pebble on the people below. "I'll remember that, Aegon. And I wasn't going to drop it." He pulled his hand from Aegon's grip and dropped the pebble back in the crevice of cracked stone.
I wasn't going to pull it, Maester Marwyn. He remembered his once high-pitched voice complain when his mentor had caught his wrist mere moments before he pulled off a loose thread on his doublet and ruined the stitching completely. "It's rather refreshing ... in a selfish way." It was not a strange thing to do such actions as a child it seemed. Rickon's face then wrinkled in surprise and his bright grey eyes lost focus as he tried to interpret Aegon's ramblings. "Have you found your room to your liking?" But in truth it also seemed sad that Rickon was going through similar feelings that he himself had went through.
"It's too big, I don't need all that space for just me and Shaggy." It probably was too big, but it seemed like every room in the damned ruin was far too big for anyone to live in comfortably.
There was nothing he could do to alleviate Rickon's grievance and so he did not dwell on it long as a result. "Have you had any formal training with a sword yet?" The answer was probably no, but it did not hurt to ask and it may have seemed patronizing to presume his answer.
The auburn haired boy shook his head and the nest of hair stuck and tangled in some places where in others it freely draped over his shoulders. "I know how to swing a sword, but I don't know if you would consider it good enough." He did not know if that was a compliment or some greatly veiled insult on him being a so-called 'southerner', but he did not take it either way regardless. "I'll learn whatever you have to teach me."
That brought a deep laugh out of Aegon's belly and it was even more humorous to him when he looked upon the boy's face which spoke of confusion and relative naivete. "I'll do my very best, they say a sword is a warrior's heart and should be treated and as such." He was not sure if Marwyn had taught him that or if it was Balon or if it was Ser Ashter Storm, but he heard it from somewhere and it had stuck in his mind. "Well, I will just as soon as my arm heals that is." The damned injury was still getting in his way, but he would not let it interfere in his fate further than it already has. It spoke nothing of an arm injury, so I must recover from it. He hoped that he was correct, but he knew very well that shade-of-the-evening did not always show things that would come to pass. Sometimes it showed things that had already happened to others, and sometimes it showed things that never come to life, but it always showed something of value if the Warlocks of the east were correct. So many visions, I watched my chest being caved in and I watched as I ordered thousands of men to be burned alive. It was always something that lingered in the back of his mind and he never knew the correct way of going about it. It will be your greatest misfortune and you will break her heart with your duty. The words of the one woman he had ever loved burned a hole through his mind and he felt like lurching out his breakfast, but he covered his true feelings with his warmest smile when he remembered that he was not alone. "How old are you, Rickon?"
"Eight." Eight years of age, he was only a few years older than Aegon himself was when being a child was no longer allowed and life was no longer lived for yourself, but for perfecting yourself for the role you were meant to and needed to take. No more playing childish games and no more shirking lessons because you did not find them fun. It was always a strange word even before he lost the privileges to what it entailed. How could anyone in good mind shirk their duties and responsibilities in favor of pleasure and fun? Harrold was the front running person in his mind when he would think of what it looked like not to do your duties. Though in truth his uncle Oberyn Martell seemed to be that sort of man as well, though he still understood what it meant to have a duty to your family, he even died for it in the very end. Unnecessarily of course, but what difference did it make to think of it now?
Sadly it did not matter even if Aegon tried to use Marwyn's wisdom in this situation, although he was right. You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children. The voice was still as strong as it was that day and it never ceased to give him doubts on his decision. A Hand or an Uncle? It was not as simple as that and Marwyn had argued with him as such into the waning hours of the night, but it still made no difference and would never. Just another name to avenge and mourn. And it was the unfortunate truths of life that the list would grow before he even took the damned throne. The gift Arianne had brought him had not made it any easier. "it was one of uncle Oberyn's favorites, I know he would have wanted you to have and use it." She had told him in a gentle voice while one of her slim hands patted the horse's nose and her other found its way into his own hand. It was a beautiful and red sand steed with a mane as black as night that was made for pleasure riding and travel and was not made for combat. That suited Aegon just fine however as his Dark was a warhorse and should only be used as such even though it did not seem to mind whatever task it was given.
"That is quite an appropriate age to begin learning. I'm not sure how good of a teacher I will prove to be, but I'm sure your great uncle Brynden or my br- Ser Balon Swann would be more than happy to help you with anything I can not." Aegon tried not to struggle climbing back up to his feet, it was of course pointless and he knew that he must have looked as weak as a newborn calf with how his knees shook under his pain. Rickon followed him back to his feet and stood straight-backed before him, waiting patiently for his next word. "So you wished for me to let your great uncle know of your decision to stay with me?" The Stark nodded his head and it only added more weight onto his shoulders now that he had to do this. I'm sure his sister will feel she can do the same now if she just asks. He had heard the rumors of how uncouth the youngest Stark girl was, and it did not seem to have much truth until she had decided she would chase wolves.
To her credit, Aegon had to admit that she was right in her assumption of knowing and controlling that monster wolf. Ser Bennard Brune had already begged him for permission to kill it, and he even planned to make it into a cloak and give it to him as an early crowning gift. Ser Bennard had accepted the deny easily enough, but he did seem to have some arrogance to his step after declaring that it would prove its savage nature soon enough. Many Lords would no doubt be unhappy and even scared to hear of the beasts survival, but it had some intelligence inside of it. That much was obvious when it knew that he meant it no harm when he tried to lower his weapon, the eyes were the telltale sign until everything went to hells. "And if you even try to raise a blade to my Nymeria I will kill you myself." Her threat was still in place no doubt. He had to give her a begrudging amount of respect as she never showed any signs of fear even once and stood up for what she loved and believed in without fear of repercussions. Though she was in truth still just a girl regardless of how dangerous she seemed, and with just a simple touch and misdirection he had flustered her like he had many others in the past. He hoped that she and Ed began to get along better, she was of a great bloodline and Edric would need someone like that assert his dominion over the Stormlands. But he knew in truth that it could all end with a simple stab through the heart or slash across the throat if he displeased or angered the girl in any way, and that would not do at all. She needed to agree to the match or it would be a death sentence for poor and foolish Ed. She was pretty enough and her bloodline was important, Ed might need some coaxing to get him along, but she otherwise would need a miracle to love him it had seemed.
Aegon dropped his good arm around Rickon's shoulders and led him towards the Kingspyre Tower. "I need to ask of you a favor that I should not ask. Two in fact, so may I ask them of you?" The hum was low and just as painful if not more so than it had been before. Up and the third window to the right. He wanted to wait for Rickon's answer before confirming his thoughts and obeying.
"Whatever it is, I'll do my best, Aegon." It was truly refreshing to find someone who did not want anything in return and simply wished to be equal friends. It seemed like no one around him besides for this small boy, who for all purposes should be opposed to him due to their families continued conflicts.
It was the perfect opportunity to let loose a loud chuckle and with it, he threw his head up at the sky and glanced at the aforementioned window and it was just as he hoped it would be. The brown-haired girl was quite excellent at hiding and he would have not been able to spot her without the aid of someone who could not be hidden from. She seemed to finally be taking her responsibility to her family seriously and was watching her little brother very closely which was refreshing to say the least. He hoped to keep an eye on the boy as best he could, but the duties of being a King would not permit him that much of a luxury and he knew even Marwyn had required help when it came to raising and teaching him. "I will have need of you to marry a girl of my choosing many years from now, can you do that for me?" The youngest Stark nodded his head without even a second thought. One promise taken care of, now it only needs to be made official. "This next favor will not be quite so simple I fear. In fact it will be quite involved on both of our behalves." Don't. The voice advised, but Aegon payed it no heed as it was not the voice he knew to listen to, but it was a different one who he knew not. You know what you should do, it is quite obvious. Do what he would and save us all, oh great Dragon King. "I need you to become closer to your sister, Arya. And preferably as soon as possible."
