KING'S LANDING, 132 AC

Aegon Targaryen had done nought to deserve either the name of the Conqueror or that of his house. His actions had been more than enough proof for that. And yet, had he ever desired to be deserving of either name?

It had not been his choice to be given these names. But it had been his choice to defile them, to destroy his reputation so much that only those that were paid by him would like him. However, the whores could only bear his presence as long as he didn't moan the same name all over again, for none of the whores he visited were called Viserra.

The Prince did not even know why that name was haunting him, for it belonged to a girl he despised. Or at least he was trying to tell himself that.

Out of sheer curiosity, the prince had tried to refrain from drinking wine for a few hours, even going as far as to sleep during the day. Although his mind remained foggy from all the poison he had consumed before, some spots were not as covered as others were.

But when he saw what the wine hid from him behind the haze, Aegon understood why he preferred to drink the sweet liquid over suffering pain from the revelation.

The girl he believed to hate had been undeserving of his treatment. All she had done was being kind to him, always defending him when they were children. Aegon remembered how she had once asked him about Sunfyre. Because she had not possessed a dragon of her own, Viserra had shown much interest in other people's dragons.

Her brothers had been excessively worried about her, claiming that their dragon would spit fire on the princess if she tried to get too close to Vermax or Arrax.

Only Aegon had ever put effort into introducing his niece to a dragon.

One night, the prince had woken her from her sleep, telling her that he had a surprise. Viserra, being the kind girl she was, had instantly accepted his invite to go outside. Although he could have led her into a brothel, Aegon had not been the kind of boy to leave a 10 year old alone in an establishment full of animals. Instead, he had led her to the Dragonpit.

When the girl had realised what her uncle had in mind, she could have melted right there. An act of kindness being shown to her almost brought her to tears.

Aegon had been the first to approach Sunfyre, mumbling sweet nothings to his friend, before letting Viserra follow him. As he remembered how scared she had been, the prince chuckled slightly. The princess' hand had trembled, but Aegon covered it with his own before placing it on the dragon's scales. Since he had been there, Sunfyre remained calm. And when the prince had looked at Viserra, her smile had been brighter than the sun could ever shine.

The Serene Princess knew that she could never repay him for such a gift. For a few moments she had looked at Aegon, contemplating whether she should have embraced or kissed him on the cheek in gratitude, but her nervosity had kept Viserra from doing either.

A tear ran down the prince's cheek as he swam in the lake of memories. He feared if he swam deeper, he would drown or catch himself in a net of waterthymes. No matter how hard he wished to return back to the shore, his body had suddenly forgotten how to move.

"Please, do not add to them... please..." Viserra had begged him on their wedding night, fearing he would bruise her with his own hands, just like Daemon had. Aegon had never thought himself capable of such a thing. All his hands could do was pleasure a woman, not hurt one.

But while his hands could do no harm to his wife, his mouth overtook that task. Still, Viserra would return with a smile to him, despite the harsh insults the prince had thrown at her the day before. She was like an angel that haunted the sinner so he could finally redeem himself.

Only that Aegon did not know how to. Perhaps he was afraid of it.

When his heart had sought relief from the invisible arrows that sucked the blood out of it, he had shot them back at someone who had deserved them the least. Aegon had not marked Viserra's skin with a blue brush, but instead he had torn her heart apart with arrows that were not meant for her, which was so much worse.

He had done more harmful things to her than Daemon had. Daemon, who had claimed Aegon's wife as a plaything to his own liking, Daemon who had struck Viserra, even when she had done as he had asked of her.

If the prince had not desired to explore the world behind the fog, he would have gone back to bed without any feelings of guilt. Only, with his mind being relieved of the poison for a short amount of time, his emotions were not numbed and came to life to their full extent.

Aegon felt how the arrows were trying to tear his heart further apart, despite the fact that he had rid himself of some, as the last strings, weak and loose, tried to keep it from breaking.

His breath quickened and the overwhelming sensation in Aegon's chest grew stronger. Had he only hurt his wife because he had wished to be freed of his own pain? Had he not hurt her because he hated her? At the thought of harming an innocent, more tears followed the first one, although these tears weren't tears of nostalgia, like the first had been.

No matter what Aegon did, in the end, it would not be right, anyways. Now he understood why he drowned himself in wine. He did not wish to face the product of his own mistakes, for they pained him too much.

Had the prince possessed the strength, he would have taken the next pitcher and downed its contents without even bothering to get himself a goblet. Aegon didn't want to have these feelings and thoughts of the past, he had to get rid of them. But when he tried to distract himself and think of brothels, they all pointed back at her, as all the whores he visited resembled the princess. When he tried to think of Sunfyre, he was reminded of the night they had spent in the Dragonpit. And at the thought of wine, he remembered how she had spat out the liquid when he had first introduced her to it.

Could he not be spared one moment without the constant thought of Viserra? Why was everything connected to her?

After all, the prince did not have the strength to take another sip of the drug that made him forget all moments, good or bad, and he was forced to remain in the lake where the waterthymes slowly pulled him down into the depths of his memories.

═════ ◈ ═════

"Perhaps you would grow to like wine if you had a goblet that was made just for you. With special engravings on it."

"You are a jester, truly, you are."

"I might be. But let's just say, if you had your own goblet, what would be engraved on it?"

"It would be covered in lilies and cornflowers."

"Then I will see that you get such a goblet for your nameday."

═════ ◈ ═════

"You will always be my friend, will you not?"

"I promise I will."

═════ ◈ ═════

Viserra had never received her own goblet, nor had Aegon kept the promise to remain her friend.

The Serene Princess had celebrated her next nameday on Dragonstone while Aegon had been too drunk to remember the goblet. When he was reminded of his niece's nameday, the guilt about his empty words ate him alive, which had been why he had turned to his best friend, the liquid poison, again.

With the wine blurring his memories, Aegon had been doomed to forget the time they had spent together. As he was constantly told that Rhaenyra's family was a threat to him and that he would have to get rid of her one way or another, the prince had tried to push all of his sister's children away, even the girl that had offered him friendship, mayhaps even more than that.

Some might have said it was a blessing that his grandsire interrupted him from falling into darker pits of his memories, although Ser Otto Hightower had not arrived to console Aegon from his misery.

"And what are you crying about?" the Hand asked, almost disgusted by how pathetic the boy that would be king one day was. It was annoying, that instead of studying history and politics, the boy wasted his time by sleeping, drinking or crying.

The moment Aegon heard the all too familiar voice, he quickly wiped his tears and tried to silence his sobs. Despite his grandsire's presence, the memories had not faded away. Not only that, new ones began plaguing his mind as well. "I am not crying," he quickly mumbled, not even looking up to face Otto.

"You are a fool." The Hand walked over to the prince, who sat on his bed in his nightgown, hovering above him.

Another arrow was shot into Aegon's heart. Releasing a small huff, the prince still made no attempt to meet his grandsire eye to eye. "The apple never falls far from the tree," he uttered carelessly, chuckling bitterly at his own words as he tried to shoot the arrow back. But it was to no avail, for his family would always find a way to send it back to him.

Ser Otto was a patient man and every patient man was known to have his own limits. Certainly, he would not leash out at the smallest remark, yet if he was pushed too far, his rage would match that of an impatient man. A sword was not as easily bent as a tree stick, but with enough force, even the piece of metal would tear into two, if not even more, pieces.

His harsh hands took a strong grip on Aegon's collar, forcing him to look up.

"Listen to me, Aegon. And listen well. While you slept your whores away, your brother found out what happened at the brothel," Otto hissed, almost spitting into Aegon's face, which would not have been to his disliking.

The King's eldest son was a disgrace. How could it be that Aemond knew more when the one-eyed prince had nothing to do with this incident? And Aegon, who had been right there, had made the stupidest accusations.

"Good for him. Perhaps he will b-"

"Do you need to be reminded that it is you who married the girl?" the Hand interrupted his grandson's nonsense.

"Why do you always have to make things more difficult for us? If not for Aemond, do you think she would have told any of us what happened?" Otto continued, comparing Aegon and Aemond like they were heaven and earth. It was disappointing to see how the future king was no more but an idiot while the second born son was educated and knew how to spin his webs. It was a punishment from the gods that Aegon would sit the Iron Throne and not Aemond.

"Twas obvious what happened," Aegon mumbled, directing his gaze as far to the ground as possible while still being held to the throat.

"Idiot," the elder spat before throwing the prince back into his bed and distancing himself. Sometimes one could think that Aegon's stupidity was contagious, so the further away Otto was, the better.

"Why else would she have gone to a brothel?" the boy tried to defend himself, his voice as broken as that of a puppy that had been abandoned by its owners. It wasn't even that far from the truth, as Aegon had almost forgotten what his rotten father looked like and his mother only visited him to release her anger on him. But the prince had to learn an important lesson. Even if one told the lie over and over again, it would not turn into the truth.

"She went to the brothel because she wanted to please you."

What was that supposed to mean? Aegon had been sure there was no other reason for Viserra to go to such an establishment than to satisfy her needs. But now his grandsire was saying she had gone there because of him? The boy froze, another piece being thrown at himself, yet he did not know where exactly it belonged in his puzzle that he was trying to assemble.

"Viserra wanted to make you a gift. Last night, after you rejected the tunic she embroidered for you, she visited Aemond and asked him about your interests," Otto elaborated, his voice low as he studied the prince's expression.

"When she heard you liked brothels, she decided to go to one in order to find out what you liked so much about them," he finished, his eyes shooting more arrows into Aegon's heart.

The prince could only gulp as reality hit him. He could not believe it. More guilt crept into his mind as more tears threatened to paint his face.

No matter how rude he had been to her since she had arrived, the girl still harboured no ill feelings and merely continued trying to gain his gratitude. Why could she not leave him alone so he could be free of this pain?

"She is your wife. She carries your child and yet you do nothing to use this to our advantage."

"Our... advantage?" Aegon was too tired to understand what his grandsire wanted of him. To be honest, he always was, since he always asked for the same things. Responsibility, dignity, and whatever other shit that might come to his mind.

"You think you will always live here and escape your duties by spending your whole day in Flea Bottom? Do you not think that one day, when your father passes, something will change?" Otto retold his story once more, Aegon had stopped counting how many times he had revised it already, but it was always the same. How he was in danger because of his half-sister Rhaenyra who would have his head to secure her claim as Queen.

"I thought you wished me dead. So Rhaenyra would only do exactly what you wanted." Aegon tilted his head towards his grandsire, looking him in the eyes for the first time that night.

"Wouldn't it be better if I was, anyway? Then you can tell Aemond your tales. You said it yourself, he was doing whatever I was supposed to do," he continued, his eyes fixed on Otto who only shook his head.

It was true that Aemond was probably the smartest of Alicent's children. However, Aegon could be controlled while Aemond's beast was untameable. For Otto and his daughter, it was easier to spin their web around the weaker.

"No one but you wishes for your death, Aegon. If Rhaenyra comes to power, it won't just be your head on a spike. Think of your siblings, your mother, Gwayne. If she ascends the throne, she will not only tear this family apart, but the realm as well, which is why you must be king," Otto replied, his words so similar to those of his daughter one could think they were the same person.

"See that you gain your wife's trust. You can't make a mess and leave it for others to clean after you," the Hand added, before exiting Aegon's chambers, leaving the boy to himself again.

One could have thought this conversation had distracted him from his memories. Yet as soon as the Hightower spider had left his chambers, Aegon was close to drowning in the lake again.

He was alone and no one would hear his cries, for no one even cared to listen to them.

Except for the girl he had thought to hate, perhaps.

For a moment, Aegon considered visiting Viserra in her chambers to speak with her. But after everything that had happened the last two days, he was too ashamed to face her. He had called her a whore, after all, and insisted that she had ruined his tunic.

Still, the prince felt the need to be heard. His wife would listen to him, no matter if he spoke badly or well of something. She would understand him, he was sure of it. His mother, too, had bruised him like she had been marked by Daemon. They would find common ground. And even if Aegon knew to be undeserving of Viserra's presence, his legs carried him faster to the doors of her chambers than they had to the wine cellar.

But perhaps he had shot too many arrows at her heart.

Ser Armond raised an eyebrow when he saw the prince standing in front of the princess' room and tilted his head ever so slightly.

"The Princess Viserra wishes not to be disturbed," the knight explained to him. This was another sign of the gods that Aegon was making a mistake. If Viserra saw him, she would cry herself and he would feel even guiltier.

However, the prince stood his ground, his desperation for sympathy overshadowing his guilt, for the moment.

"I- I need to speak to her." Aegon gulped. His eyes were probably still red from the tears he had shed, telling Ser Armond exactly what he had been doing before seeking out the Serene Princess.

"Please," he begged his wife's sworn sword. It was almost as if Aegon was a completely different person. Only hours ago, he had accused Armond of letting Viserra go to pleasure herself of a peasant, and now he was pleading with him to speak to the princess.

"You wish to apologise for what you said?" Armond asked, his tone close to mockery, although his expression remained neutral.

"Yes," the prince stuttered, finding the presence of the Ser suddenly intimidating. When he was drunk, he didn't even notice how scary the knight to could be. But now, Aegon felt very small in his presence.

Ser Armond nodded before opening the door, revealing the princess in her nightgown, braiding her hair. The girl flinched the moment she heard the creak of the door, looking up at her sworn shield, almost frightened.

"What is it, Ser?" Viserra asked nervously, about to begin another war between her fingers, before she noticed a figure behind him. As she stood up to take a look at who was cowering behind Armond, the knight announced the visitor himself.

"Prince Aegon wished to speak to you."

The expression on Viserra's face could have brought Aegon to tears again, for it didn't light up like it usually had when they had seen each other. Only the day before, she had been so eager to speak to him, ready to embrace him, and now her eyes did not even shine. He knew it was his fault that her eyes had died, and the spark within her.

"Thank you, Armond," the princess nodded to dismiss her guard, before turning away from the door and walking back to the mirror she had been facing before the interruption.

When the door closed, Viserra flinched again. One could see so very well how fragile she was. The slightest noise made her wince in fear, the smallest movement made her hide somewhere, the smallest critique hit her personally. And yet, she tried to be kind to everyone and please them, putting her own well-being last, as she thought everything was her fault and her fault alone.

Aegon was scared to say anything at all. He had no right to be here and disturb her, but he had done so, anyways. It was even worse that Viserra herself had nothing to say, despite all the words he had thrown at her.

"Do you wish to do the act?" Viserra's voice broke the silence minutes later, waking her husband from his trance.

There it was again - asking Aegon whether he wanted something because she wanted to please her husband. Had he been drunk, they would have been in her bed already. Now, though, with his mind a little clearer, the prince felt disgusted about doing it to her.

"No." He shook his head. In all honesty, Aegon didn't even know what he wanted except to be there in her presence. Her chambers had felt so inviting when he had rejected it, and now the chambers rejected him. Everything felt so odd, like he had made the surface crack and now everyone was waiting for it to collapse beneath his feet.

Viserra was visibly surprised about his response. As she turned around to look at him, Aegon could see a small tear running down her cheek. Barely a word had been said and the prince had already made his wife cry.

"You cried," she observed his own face. But it was not the fact that she had so easily detected his previous action that hurt him, it was the way she had said it. Her voice had almost appeared cold, despite her caring nature. By all means, she had cared enough to study Aegon's face and detect its flaws. And yet it sounded like it didn't matter to her. Or perhaps, it was the fear that had overcome her.

If he wasn't here to do the act, was he here to hurt her?

Aegon wanted to respond, wanting to tell her that he had not meant anything that had come from his mouth. However, it seemed as though he had forgotten all words that existed, silencing him for what felt like an eternity.

Instead of using words, the prince slowly approached his wife, who took a few steps back at first. Finally, Aegon had discovered her weakness. Finally he had decided to use it and make her his own canvas for bruises, uncaring of her burden of carrying his child, Viserra thought.

The princess stumbled against the wall behind her and shivered in fear. Although she could have moved to the side, her legs had suddenly grown incapable of carrying her anywhere. Viserra felt as though the collision with the wall had taken all her strength and all that was left for her was begging Aegon for mercy.

"Please..." the all too familiar whimper Viserra had released in the brothel echoed in Aegon's head again. She was asking him to stop, as she had asked the man that had trapped her below him in the brothel.

Yet how could Aegon stop something he had not even begun doing? The boy made no attempt to walk away from her. When he stood right in front of her, Viserra had nearly fallen to her knees, as she had tried to avoid him. Aegon didn't even know where he had got the strength from, but he pulled her up again.

As their gazes met, the girl noticed that there was no hate in his eyes, as was no ill desire. Viserra could only see eyes that carried pain and suffering. At first, she could have sworn to be looking at herself, for those eyes had resembled hers like no others did. It wasn't herself, though, it was Aegon. Aegon who had dismissed her to spend more time with his only companion, a goblet of wine. Aegon who had yelled at her despite all her efforts, making her feel inferior and useless. Aegon who had not even wanted to listen when she had tried to explain herself.

Before she could utter any word, two arms embraced her frame, warming her small body.