Of his generation, Aegon was the eldest. Though not the king’s first-born child, he was the oldest among his brothers, cousins, and nephews. This distinction came with an unspoken expectation of leadership—a burden his mother, Queen Alicent, frequently reminded him of.

But Aegon never felt that sense of responsibility. Not toward his younger brothers, Aemond and Daeron. Not toward his little sister Helaena. And certainly not toward his nephews Jacaerys and Lucerys.

Still, beneath the surface of his often selfish demeanor, there was a gentleness—a trait he would never admit aloud. It revealed itself in fleeting, quiet moments: giving Helaena the odd bug he found in the training yard, letting Aemond pet Sunfyre when no one was watching, passing down his old wooden swords to Daeron, or even sharing a rare, grudging nod of approval with Jacaerys during sparring practice.

And then there was you—his niece. You were the one person Aegon couldn’t bring himself to push away completely. Your unwavering affection for him softened something within his guarded heart, even if he tried to dismiss it in public. In private, though, he allowed you to cuddle him, to cling to him, and to fill a void he barely understood himself.

Like today.

The afternoon sun slanted through Aegon’s chamber window as he lounged on his bed, wine cup in hand. The world outside was chaos, but here, he had quiet.

Until you burst in, tears streaking your blotchy cheeks.

Before he could react, you threw yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. Aegon froze, panic flashing in his violet eyes. Consoling someone? He didn’t have the faintest idea how to do that.

Awkwardly, he patted your back. “You… lost a jewel?” he guessed.

Your sobs only deepened, and he winced. “Hey, stop crying,” he mumbled, softer now. “It can’t be that bad.” He didn’t know how to fix it, but as you clung to him, something strange stirred in his chest. For now, he held still, letting you cry. Maybe, just maybe, it was enough.