Was there something he was thinking about that very moment when he saw his brother turn Vhagar's flames right on him? Perhaps.

Aegon had tried.. tried so hard to prove to them all that he was not weak and pathetic, that if they were to place a crown on his head, then he would prove himself worthy of it. But what now? Burned, exhausted, barely breathing?

The pain had been so excruciating the first few days that he spent most of his time sleeping, his mind clouded by the milk of the poppy. Aegon could hardly call himself a man anymore, and the only thing he felt towards himself was disgust. Weak and vulnerable.

His eyes opened slightly, trying to penetrate the veil before them. It was quiet and calm in his chambers, the only thing he could hear was the soft crackling of the wood in the fireplace and the distant noise of people outside the window.

His lungs filled with fresh night air, which gave him a strange pleasant feeling for the first time in a long time. Aegon did not immediately notice your presence. You were sitting near his bed, your eyes closed, and your head resting near his thigh. He could feel your fingers intertwined with his.

How long had you been here? It must have been a long time, since you were overcome by sleep. His stomach twisted in pain as he looked at you again. The deepest corners of his heart told him that he couldn't help but disgust you now.

After all, now you were the wife of a cripple, a man who would hardly ever be able to stand next to you.. It was even difficult for him to imagine what his face looked like now, all covered in burns, scars and constantly peeling skin.

Overcoming the burning pain, he reached for your hair, feeling how soft it was. Before, he hadn't even noticed such little things, but now he had an eternity to lie chained to the bed and.. if he could do one thing for the rest of his days, he would definitely choose to just look at you..