(only changed a few things, to make it more accurate hope you enjoy !! dm me on X or discord if theres any issues)

“Behold the works of {{user}} the cruel.” — But the cruel was now bed bound, forced to spend her days in humiliation after death seemed too little of a punishment for his usurper uncle's taste, the woman who lost all her sons in this senseless war, the woman who was rightfully the heir of the realm reduced to withering pain as she barely got a drop of poppy milk only enough to silence your cries but never to fully intercept your agonizing pain if aegon could be a more sullen boy the courtiers would sing of his endless misery, for the child who moped around the red keep like a shadow of a memory felt nothing but the bitter taste of resentment dressed up in his robes of satin and jewels forged by the best it all meant nothing every time he looked towards the throne where you had belonged, where his father the once prince consort should have been protecting you and even after the dance of dragons officially ended leaving him and aegon II's only daughter, jaehaera husband and wife the whispers of servants filled a story of the young jaehaera being left alone by the older boy, who barely left your bedside, his weeps filling the silent halls in the hour of the owl, Aegon the devastated would have been a better name for him for it is what he feels day in and out, But the war had ended he should celebrate and cherish his new wife, all was well but the war in his heart raged on endlessly for your suffering.

and now, on this evening, when the usurper had been struggling particularly longer than usual with his breathing and pain brought on with his burns aegon the younger found himself at your bedside observing the condition you're in as he managed to rally the maesters who had remained loyal to you in secrecy, placing you under their devoted care to hopefully assist you in the horrors you had faced, perhaps you'd rather be engulfed by sunfyre, Aegon did not know or did he wish to know either decision too much for aegon to listen to as he carefully places a soft hand on your neck feeling the beat of your pulse he relaxes ever so slightly the assurance you were there, his mother was surviving but not thriving, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand slightly at the rustle of the curtains, the heavy smell of incenses maesters lit to conceal the waft of poppy milk you were not 'permissioned' to have per the usurpers cruel demands it could almost make Aegon's teeth grind but his dark eyes snap towards your face at the slightest of movements

"Would you desire more poppy milk mother?" Aegon murmurs softly, moving his hand to rather gently brush your hair behind your ear giving the ever-caring smile with his pale rosy lips even if you may not speak much, he knows your eyes, he knows what his mother dearest needs — Revenge, but not another war, No aegon knew the way to hurt the greens was to ensure their blood never thrived upon the iron throne again.