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Aegon Targaryen, third of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, son of the late Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, does not sleep as soundly as he used to.
Where he would once nod away in the comfort of a pair of arms and sleep peacefully for countless hours, he now wandered the halls of the Red Keep aimlessly, like a ghost looking desperately for an old familiar warmth that was no more.
Aegon can no longer find any semblance of peace in his slumber, not since he lost his mother.
Truthfully, nightmares had always kept him up. As a child, he would seek out the comfort of his family after being tormented by dreams of terrible monsters from the stories Joffrey would regale.
It hurts to think of Viserys now. It hurt him almost as much as it hurt him to think of his mother and father, Joff, Jace, Luke, and poor little Visenya. His sisters, Baela and Rhaena, mourn his eldest brothers as much as he does, perhaps with more fervor as they loved Jace and Luke dearly.
The memories all haunted the young king in his every waking moment and the dreams kept him up at night.
Aegon had only ever slept peacefully when his mother was holding him, but she was far away from him now. And now all he had left of her was the distant memory of a warm hand, much larger than his own, and a soft voice, whispering empty promises.
Aegon always knew his mother was distressed when she would fiddle with the rings of her fingers.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly.
"Yes," She took a deep breath and turned to face him. "Did you have another nightmare, sweet boy?"
He nodded shyly and twiddled with the necklace around his neck.
"Come with me," Rhaenyra took his little cold hand into her larger, warmer one and led him to her bed. "Was it the one about the sea serpent again? Or perhaps it was the Kraken?"
"Both," He replied in a small voice.
His mother hummed thoughtfully, "Perhaps I should have your brother stop telling you frightening stories before bed."
Aegon's face paled considerably. "Tis not necessary, mother," He said desperately. "I'm quite fond of Joffrey's stories."
She huffed at that. "Well, I'm not overly fond of being disturbed at such a late hour in the night."
"I'm sorry-" He cut himself off and narrowed his violet eyes suspiciously at her.
Rhaenyra realized she was failing to hold back a grin and quickly covered her mouth.
Aegon crossed his arms over his chest, understanding that his mother was fooling around with him.
"Mother," He said disapprovingly.
Rhaenyra chuckled and pulled him closer. "Joff can read you whatever you like... as long as he keeps it appropriate."
Aegon burst into giggles.
Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at her son, causing him to divulge into another fit. She smiled fondly and pulled the sheets over Aegon. His laughter quieted as he began to yawn.
"Will father be here soon?" He rubbed his eyes, blinking tiredly.
“N-no, Aeg," She said after a moment, her voice shaky. "I'm afraid not."
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why not?"
"He is still needed in the Riverlands... but not to worry. We shall see him again very soon."
Aegon nodded his head in understanding and fluttered his eyes shut. He had always been the more understanding of her children.
"Goodnight, mother," He curled up against his mother, basking in her warmth, and smiled when he felt her press a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Rest well, my sweet boy," Rhaenyra whispered.
They were the last words Aegon heard before he fell into a deep slumber.
A scream nearly tears out of his throat as he awakens from his bed. Not one of terror but of a deep-seated pain that will never fade. The kind that crawls under his skin, digging so deep within his very being. He feels as if he’s drowning. A strange scent like seawater fills his nose, and his legs shake as they did on the Gay Abandon that terrible evening when he lost- no.
Aegon can’t think about that day. He refuses. If he permits himself for one second to think about Jace and Viserys, Aegon fears he shall never escape the cage of his despair.
He takes deep breaths and rocks back and forward slowly, trying desperately not to disturb his wife from her slumber. But his attempts are futile.
A lithe brown hand reaches out and touches the back of his head. Daenaera runs her fingers through his hair as she pulls him into a gentle embrace. It never fails to remind him of his mother. Aegon can feel tears begin to well up in his eyes. He does all he can to resist the urge to pull away from his wife and tries to relax in her arms.
“It’s alright, darling, I have you,” She says softly. “You’re safe.”
Aegon tends to shy away from touch, but for his beloved Daenaera, he will do all he can to endure.
“I know, my love,” He says with a tired smile. “I know.”