Chapter Text
Time stood still as the knight, the princess and the Lord Hand realized what was happening : Aegon was bleeding from his head, unconscious, unresponsive. Quickly, Rhaenys tried to find a pulse, relieved to find one, even if faint.
“Guards!” She cried out
Immediately, several knights rushed in.
“Arrest the Lord Hand at once!” She ordered. “He attacked the Regent! And call some maesters!”
Otto was dignified enough to be taken without screaming, without being dragged away. He walked, surrounded by them. For anyone outside, who didn’t know, he was being protected or escorted to somewhere important. That was better that way. The keep would be disturbed soon enough, there was no need to add more.
“You.” The dragon rider said to one of the soldiers. “Inform Queen Rhaenyra of what happened. Then, inform Princess Helaena, the Dowager Queen and Prince Aemond. Try not to scare the Regent’s children.”
“Ot once, Princess!”
Criston approached. Rhaenys could see how destroyed he looked as he watched the prince’s form on the floor. He failed him, he believed. He blamed himself. He imagined that, had he stayed with him, this could have been avoided. He loved the boy. Perhaps more than the boy’s own parents. She loved her cousin but she had to admit that he hadn’t been the best to his children by Alicent. Part of it was due to the horrible sickness that plagued him. But most of it was fueled by his never-ending grief for Aemma, showering Rhaenyra with love and care, almost as if to make up for the horrible choice he had to make that cost her her life and then the babe’s.
“Aegon is still alive, Ser.” She said softly. “We need to move him.”
He nodded, carefully lifting him up in his arms, reminding him of the many times Aegon wished to be hugged, hugs he never denied him. They were too few, however, to make up for his loneliness.
“You cannot disturb my Lady Mother, Ser.” Jacaerys insisted. “She has been ordered to rest.”
Lucerys nodded.
“I am so sorry, My Prince, but it is of the utmost importance. There has been an incident…”
Rhaenyra tensed. Daemon immediately took her hand to ease her worries.
“What happened?” She asked
“Lord Otto Hightower attacked the Regent, Your Grace.” He revealed
It felt like a punch in her guts. Helaena was right. And to some extent, her half-brother had felt it. Aegon had stood as a shield to defend her claim. She had asked him to be her wall of defence. And standing up he did… Until she arrived.
“How?” She stuttered
“I don’t have the full details, Your Grace. According to Ser Criston and Princess Rhaenys, there was an argument in which the Lord Hand struck the prince, causing him to fall.”
“How is Aegon?”
“Unresponsive, Your Grace. Bleeding from the head.”
“By the Seven…” Jace whispered
“Princess Rhaenys has already ordered the Lord Hand’s arrest, for maesters to attend the prince and for his family to be told of the event.”
“She did well.” The queen replied as she tried to stand up
This time, none of her sons or her husband tried to stop her. The consort simply helped her on her feet.
“Is my brother’s life in danger?”
“I do not know, Your Grace.”
Dread filled her entire being.
Her sibling, whom she had never cared to bond with out of resentment for their parents’ marriage, had been the only one to care for her rights.
And now, he could be dead for it.
What broke Alicent’s heart wasn’t Aegon’s lying form on his bed. It had been Helaena’s scream of what sounded like agony. Aemond stood by her side, not daring to touch her, his eyes staring at his brother as they were trying to stop the bleeding. Surprising them all, the young woman took her husband’s hand. Ever since he had become regent, she appeared more comfortable with his touch.
“The crown of blood on silver threads…” She sobbed
Aegon’s curls had been cut off, his hair so short now, almost shaved, to allow the maesters easy access to his wound.
Helaena hated herself : her visions were nothing but a curse. What good was it for her to have them if she was incapable of communicating them properly? Why did she have them if she couldn’t prevent them? Why was she like Daenys but without the possibility of acting? Aegon didn’t love her as a husband loved his wife, she didn’t love him as a wife loved her husband. Their marriage had been forced upon them at such a young age, the possibility of romance blossoming between them had certainly been killed along with the forced consummation of a union they both resented. Her spouse wasn’t always the kindest to her, he wasn’t always the nicest, and he usually avoided her, unless drunk, because it was the only way for him to forget that his wife was his own sister. She wasn’t mad at him for it, she instead felt for him. If she liked alcohol, perhaps she would have done the same thing. Whenever he touched her, she always saw doom. For herself, for him, for everyone, making her shiver, making him believe he disgusted her. Any caress of his reminded her of the rats, of a choice she had to make, of Jaehaerys’ possible short life, of her death, of what would happen to Jaehaera later…
But all of those disappeared when he renounced being king.
When he sent Rhaenys to Rhaenyra.
When he unknowingly broke the strings of their puppet masters.
Ever since, when he touched her, she didn’t have visions anymore. She just felt the warmth of his skin, the gentleness he was capable of. She loved the small routine they had installed, even if it was meant to protect him. She loved seeing him play with the twins, she loved seeing him try to be a better father than their own had been to them, patient, kind, putting himself in their shoes, helping them when they didn’t understand something from their lessons, always kissing them, hugging them, telling them he loved them. She loved how he quickly adapted to Jaehaera’s quirkiness, found a way to let her know, to show her, just how he adored her too. She loved the small comments he made on her embroideries, sometimes asking how she achieved certain stitches and knots. She loved that he tried. She loved having her brother by her side, the real one hidden underneath all of his hurt, the one capable of great love, patience, and understanding.
“Grandsire did this…” She uttered
“Helaena…” Her mother tried to touch her shoulder.
Helaena refused to let her.
“Do not say it wasn’t him, Mother!” She sobbed. “Princess Rhaenys saw him!”
“Maybe she…”
“Criston saw him!”
She looked at her in the eyes, startling the Dowager Queen. They were filled with anger.
“Why didn’t you protect him?!”
“Helaena, I didn’t know…”
“Yes, you did! You always take Grandsire’s side! When I told you about the marks on his neck, you immediately assumed it was because of a game he played with a prostitute! When I told you about the door, you told me Aegon was mistaken! When I told you about the food, you told me Aegon lied to me! He’s your son! How can he be second to your father?! Why don’t you ever believe him?! What has he done to you?! Why do you hate him that much?!”
The princess was completely broken down, tears rolling freely on her cheeks.
“Helaena…”
She let Aemond embrace her.
“Mother.” He said. “Is it true?”
He had noticed the marks as well and to his shame, he admitted he believed his brother tried out another sexual perversion with a woman. He knew about the door, Aegon had mentioned it after a council meeting, never telling however who did this. But he never knew about the food. Why he spent so much time with Helaena made sense now. Of course, it was to be with his children, no doubt about it, but it was also, ironically, their pacifist and untrained sister, their beloved sibling who refused, at age 5, to eat meat for moons because it meant animals were killed, was his best defender, knight and shield.
“I believed he was accusing your grandfather because his mind had been twisted for it… That he resented him and tried to have some vengeance upon him…”
“And of course, when he tells you he was there when Father died, that Father didn’t mean him when he said the name Aegon, that he wanted Rhaenyra, you didn’t believe him either. Because everything that comes out of his mouth is necessarily a lie in your made-up mind.”
“Aemond!”
“Look at him, Mother! Just look at him! He’s lying in his bed, his head cracked open when this could have been avoided!”
He was just as guilty as her, he knew. He didn’t believe him to some extent, blinded by the torment he endured at his hands as children. However, ever since he lost his eye, Aegon had completely stopped his attitude. True, he still joked at his expense, but those were now harmless words, banter he even joined in at times. He never apologized for his actions but the prince knew he was sorry. After all, he was the one who offered him his sapphire as he knew he loved the story of Symeon Star-Eyes, telling him without uttering a single sentence that he believed in him and in the possibility of him becoming a great swordsman.
“Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra.” A guard announced
“Rhaenyra!” Alicent exclaimed. “You should be resting after your journey.”
The queen smiled at her former friend, knowing her concern to be genuine. Her daughter tried to stifle a scoff. She was glad her mother was worried for her stepdaughter, it meant she cared. But why did she care more about her than her own flesh and blood? Her first-born child? She could care for both…
“I am alright, Alicent. I couldn’t stay idle after I learnt about Aegon.”
She approached Helaena.
“Can I hug you?”
Aemond let their half-sister take his place. He should write to Daeron, he thought. He deserved to know. He wanted the whole of Oldtown to know what their relative had done to his own blood.
“How is he?” Rhaenyra asked the maester as he finished bandaging her brother’s head.
“We cannot say for certain, Your Grace.” Maester Orwyle admitted. “We managed to stop the bleeding by stitching the wound. The prince’s vital signs seem stable and we didn’t see any signs of deeper injuries. However, we can only see with certainty how severe the shock was once the prince wakes up.”
“You fear there might be complications?”
“Mayhaps. Confusion, possible amnesia, headaches.”
“And?”
The man looked upon the princess, worried about the effect his words would have on her.
“Please, say it, Maester.” Helaena told him. “I can take it.”
“It is only a possibility, Princess.”
“But?”
“In the worst of cases, fluid could build up in the prince’s skull, causing tension and pain…”
“A traumatic brain injury.” Aemond concluded
“Possibly.”
“And one of the cures is trepanning.”
“Yes, my prince. To evacuate the unwanted fluid and blood causing the pressure.”
Helaena paled.
“It’s only a possibility, Helaena.” Rhaenyra tried to ease her. “This is an extreme. It does not mean it is what will happen to Aegon. Right now, we can only wait for him to wake up.”
A maid rushed inside the room.
“Your Grace…” She bowed. “My queen, my prince, my princess…”
The poor girl was out of breath.
“What is it, Marigold?” The princess replied
“Prince Jaehaerys and Princess Jaehaera are missing!”
The castle was way too big. Jaehaerys always believed it to be so. Why did they need such a big house when there were so few of them? Jaehaera took his hand, meaning she was worried. They had heard the adults talking.
Their father was injured.
There was an accident and he was hurt.
No one believed they heard but they did. And no one had heard the little girl earlier whispering : “Ruby on silver and porcelain.”
Their mother entrusted them to Marigold and left with their uncle. No one wanted to tell them what happened, they simply repeated they didn’t have to be scared.
The twins weren’t.
Their father was big, strong, he had the most beautiful dragon that ever lived and understood the common language instead of High Valyrian! Of course, he would be okay! But they wanted to see him.
Whenever they were hurt, their father was there with them. He always came, asked what happened, and listened to their fears. He never mocked them for being scared : for him, it certainly was a small tumble, for them it was horrible, and he always agreed that it was indeed ghastly. He kissed the pain away, and hugged them until the worries vanished. His arms were the safest place of the Seven Kingdoms.
Whenever they were ill, their father was there with them. He always came, he stayed with them. He made sure they were tucked in, warm enough. He agreed that the medicine was disgusting, that he understood why they didn’t want to take it but that they had to, or else they wouldn’t get better. He had the maesters add some honey or fruit so it felt better on the tongue. He would sing to them if they asked him. He had a beautiful voice and he even had invented a song for them. When they were starting to feel better, if their stomachs could handle it, he asked for their favorite meals and sweets so they could find some joy after feeling so unwell. He always remembered to ask for orange cakes instead of lemon cakes for Jaehaera because she didn’t like how bitter lemons were.
Their father was always there when they needed him the most.
They had to be there for him now!
Or else, how would he know they loved him to the moon and beyond?
But for Heaven’s sake, why was this castle so big and where were their father’s private bed chambers?!
“They are four years old, how could they escape you?!” Alicent barked at Marigold as they stood in the children’s room, looking for clues of where they had vanished
“It can happen quickly, Mother.” Her daughter replied. “Just one second of inattention and off they run.”
Aemond had already asked the guards and the servants to search any area. The library, of course, as Jaehaerys loved books. The gardens. The kitchens. He ordered special care to be taken around the ponds and fountains.
“Mother.” Lucerys said as he joined Rhaenyra and the others
“Lucerys?”
By the Seven, what a day…
“Ser Criston has found the twins!”
Relief spread in their entire bodies.
“Jace is joining Aemond so the search party can be dismissed.”
“Where are they?” Helaena asked her nephew
“Come with me.”
They followed the future Lord of the Tides, their feet leading them to Aegon’s bed chambers. The White Cloak was guarding its door, somewhat amused.
Inside the room, on the nightstand, a wooden horse and a pine cone. Jaehaera on his right side, Jaehaerys on his left, the twins were nestled against their resting father, sleeping, thumbs in their mouths, cradled by his warmth and the security of what they knew to be his ever-loving arms.