authorsnotes; shorter chapter, but necessary
this is a shorter, snappier story than I do, not tons of pondering, some of you will like that, some now, (shameless plug incoming), if you want to check out some of my more ... wordy asoiaf targ fics, check my page, I recommend: winter is here and/or ice and fire, ty.
do enjoy
songrecs: dragons do not fear blood - hotd season 1
'Thrones are won with swords, not quills. Spill blood, not ink'
- King Aegon the 2nd
-x-
When he woke up, he felt immediately far too warm, uncomfortable and anxious.
He wasn't one to usually get worked up about things, that was much more Jon's job (as he and Dany often joked, in good nature of course). He was more likely to take things in stride, not to panic. Sometimes it was good, he didn't brood as much as his brother, but sometimes it got him in trouble.
And so, as much as he didn't like the feeling he knew as he rolled over in bed, and opened his eyes to the harsh sun, he knew his anxiety was useful on this day, even if his rolling tummy and nerves certainly weren't welcome.
He was in a new place, new circumstances, new threats, and new opportunities. He knew Jon would be feeling the same, and though he knew it was early, the sun still creeping over the horizon he had no doubt his brother would be awake thinking the same thing, and so why not worry and plan together?
With a nod to himself he forced himself up, he still felt exhausted, especially after such awful sleep on the road but this was more important. Their circumstances had changed, they were unsettled. Sleep could wait, right now they needed to plan and adjust to their new surroundings.
For Aegon he may not worry as much but like Jon he liked to plan. It was pointless to enter battle without a plan, without tactics, and so he may not worry but he did plan ahead.
He was quick to have a wash, dress in fresh clothes (after weeks of itchy, sand covered tunics the clothes he'd grabbed from the drawer felt like heaven), grab his weapons belt (he didn't usually carry it on him, but he wasn't taking any chances here), and secure his hair back, he made his way to his brothers room.
As he suspected once he stepped inside (they didn't knock, he and his siblings had few boundaries and no secrets from one another), Jon was wide awake, dressed and stood up, weapons at his hips, in fact he looked as though he was about to head over to Aegon. They both managed a smile at that.
"Same page?" He said with a grin and Jon nodded, smiling also. Jon wasn't a 'smiler' so to speak, except with him and Dany, and even then, rarely, so it was always nice to see it.
"Let's call for breakfast" Jon said, and Aegon nodded as Jon stepped outside, finding a guard not too far who nodded and promised to get breakfast sent to their rooms. They'd think and strategize better on full stomachs.
"I'll set the table" Jon said, as Aegon went to sit down, "You go get Dany"
"You know she sleeps more than us" Aegon said with a raised eyebrow.
"And you know she'll kill us if she's left out" Jon fired back and Aegon nodded. Dany was a beast when woken earlier, but worse if she wasn't included.
Aegon reluctantly made his way down to his (technically aunt's, but they were all siblings in their eyes), sisters' rooms. It didn't take long, and he was glad they were all near one another, close enough to protect one another, run if they had to.
He knocked gently before stepping inside. He knew Dany would sleep through a knock, and yet as he stepped inside, he was surprised to find her already awake, knees to her chest, curled into a ball on the bed, violet eyes open but body unmoving.
She looked small and Aegon stepped forward, worried.
"Dany?" He spoke in a whisper, the room remained dark, no candles lit, "Everything okay?"
She nodded but he wasn't convinced. She looked more childlike than he could ever remember, and so he approached, coming to sit on the bed, again she didn't move, and Aegon felt scared for a moment, before placing a hand on her arm.
She turned to him then with a small but sad smile.
"Okay?" He knew Dany wouldn't confide in him without Jon present. It wasn't like that, there was no varying relationships, no one closer than the other, no ties forged closer between him and Jon or Jon and Dany or him and Dany. It didn't work like that.
It was the three of them, three unbreakable links in the chain, together, unbreakable. Sure, he and Jon tended to chat more about certain things, being brothers, but there were never any secrets held from one another. Never.
Secrets they kept from Jory or Wylla (minor things), and of course they hid whenever they left the safety of their homes, but between each other? There was nothing hidden.
It was how they worked, how their bond worked.
"Just nervous" She admitted, and he nodded, gave her a smile, and then held his hand out for her to take. Nerves he understood, he felt them, so did Jon.
"Me too" He said, "Jon as well" She seemed to ease at that.
"Jon's waiting" He said, and with those words she slid her hand into his and they made their way through to his room where Jon was waiting.
It was always the three of them, no secrets, no lies, nothing held back.
Never.
"So, what's the plan?"
They all sit around the table, together finally, picking away at fruit, bread, sweet meats. Even here they don't have to worry about simple stuff like food and clothing but Jon's not so sure that will last.
Of course, they've had to run before, instances he barely remembers as children, but this feels different somehow, worse, more urgent. It feels like they won't be here long, it feels like being on the run may be the new normal for them.
And so, as Dany speaks, he nods his head, they need to be prepared, they need a plan.
Jory had taught him that from a young age. Winging things rarely worked, you needed to strategize, to think ahead and plan things out.
"We have to be ready to go at a moment's notice" He says and his siblings nod, he's glad they're in agreement.
"Pack a bag" Aegon says, "One set of clothes, a weapon, two changed of small clothes"
"Hoods for you too" Jon says looking at their fine silver hair. Once he'd been jealous not to have that too, but now he's thankful.
"You too Jon" Dany pipes up, as though she knows, though her answer is more practical than he thought, "They'll be looking for three of us, better we're all hidden"
"We should pack jewels too" Jon says, "Ones we don't mind parting with"
Aegon nods then, "To sell?"
"Aye" His Northern accent is a result of Jory. It's not very harsh, and they all have a hint of the East and Westeros to them, but Dany and Aegon have always sounded softer to him, another difference.
Once he had been so worried about their differences, consumed by the idea they were so alike, and he isn't. They are more Targaryen and he Stark. Their blonde hair, his black, their violet eyes, his grey, their soft voices, his harsher; so many differences. Once he'd been so insecure about them.
But not anymore, he knows the bond they have now, knows nothing will break that, knows silly things like hair colour and place of birth don't matter. They're all Targaryen's, they're siblings, family.
And what did Jory and Wylla always say?
'Family is the most important thing'
Damn right it is. Family. They'll protect each other, they have to. They will.
They sit around for the rest of the day, take lunch and dinner in their rooms. Jory and Wylla are no doubt settling things and so they're left alone. Talking, planning, preparing.
Everything feels more on a knife edge now, like it could all tip or fall apart at any moment.
Assassins stalk them now; they might not ever be able to relax again.
'You'll be hunted' Jory had lectured them once, when Aegon and Jon had jumped out the first-floor window and caught Dany before hiding in a bush where a guard had caught them, they'd been deprived of sweet treats for two weeks.
'Hunted' Jory had said, 'You're too important, a threat and so we must always be vigilant'
It was what they'd learned growing up.
Normal children learned how to be kind and fair and to share their toys and smile. They learnt to be vigilant, tough, strong. They learnt to always be ready to run, to fight, to lead. Their childhoods had differed in many ways.
They even pack bags together, their first day in Volantis. Go from room to room, each packing an emergency bag, and then they take them back to Jon's room to inspect them, to make sure they had everything they needed, to make sure they were ready.
Dany had to put a dress back, Aegon managed to slip in a pouch of diamonds and Jon couldn't help but pack an old hair clip made of winter roses that was said to have been his mothers. Aegon has an old Targaryen crown, Dany her Mother's tiara, both packed, he only has this, but he cherishes it - always.
They put their bags under each of their respective beds. Ready to run if they need to. Some would call it paranoid; they'd call it prepared, which was good to be in hindsight.
They only make it 6 months in Volantis before a whispered word from one of Vary's birds warns them of men in the night.
They each grab their bags, hold hands as they flee via a small boat up the river and then back on foot, then another boat, heading for Lys. A long arduous journey, bags clutched in hands, hoods pulled up, hearts thudding, hands shaking, on the road to Lys.
They only spend a year there.
Their time of comfort, of security, is over.
Hunted was the right word. Hunted until the ends of the world, until there's nowhere else to go.
6 months in Volantis, a year in Lys, 1 month trekking on foot to Myr, and then a year and a half there.
3 months here, 6 months there, they only last a month in Norvos before they need to run.
They all get used to living in backpacks, in gathering their stuff up, in losing some along the way. Their hoods become a permanent part of what they wear, Jon and Aegon always carry a sword at their hip, Dany a dagger strapped to her thigh. They become more paranoid, more vigilant, eyes always over their shoulder, hearts always pounding with nerves.
It carries on and on, place to place, sometimes repeating, often travelling on foot now, Jory and Wylla always with them. Circumstances grow harder each time they leave with less things, harder and harder.
Right up until they hit 16, tired and sore, feet having carried them all of the way from Lorath to Pentos once more, but this time to the manse of Illyrio Mopatis.
time jumps are a necessity! but we should be (mostly) done with them now, and no more big ones
but our bbys are somewhat grown up, and so the real drama begins
do enjoy, do review!