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librosamarillos · 27 days

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passed down like folk songs

chapter 39: i will just let you down

Maegor Targaryen x OC

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Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

“Please bring more pillows. Her grace will need to be comfortable.” Rowan asked one of the maids preparing the rooms for their upcoming guests. She had already seen to Aenys and Viserys’ rooms being prepared, and all that was now left was to ensure the expectant Queen’s comfort during their stay.

“Right away, my Lady.” the maid closest to her said, heading out to get more pillows. She wasn’t sure if it would be too many, but then Alyssa could remove them as she saw fit.

“Thank you.” Rowan smiled, looking around the room, seeing the bath being prepared with lukewarm water, as per the maester’s suggestions. All was done. She could feel the servants taking discreet looks of her and she tried to not mind it too much. She knew she looked ridiculous, so she could blame no one.

“My Lady, the King and Queen have arrived.” a young pageboy announced as he ran through the door. Rowan’s breath was stuck in her throat for a second, before she thanked him and began to leave the Queen’s room.

She took a quick, final look in the mirror, taking a moment to straighten her skirts and make sure she looked presentable, trying to ignore her horrid hair framing her face so unevenly, and made her way down to the front entrance, where Aenys, Alyssa and Viserys were stood.

Aenys looked pale, far paler than he’d ever looked before, as well as significantly thinner. He had dark undereye bags that betrayed his lack of sleep, that she could only assume was weeks long. Alyssa, thank the gods, looked far healthier, as well as little Viserys who was looking around curiously.

“Welcome to Dragonstone, your Graces. I hope your journey has been a smooth and safe one.” Rowan greeted them with a warm smile and a polite curtsy. Aenys returned her smile and opened his mouth to reply, but Alyssa seemed confused.

“Has the Dowager Queen not been made aware of our arrival? Why is she not the one here to greet us?” she asked, looking beyond Rowan, to see if perhaps Visenya was about to make a late entrance. Aenys bit his lip, and Rowan straightened her back.

“She has been made aware, your Grace. She… did not wish to greet you and has sent for me to do so.” she explained, giving the Queen an apologetic smile as she repeated exactly what Visenya had told her to say, albeit without the condescending tone, but Aenys at least seemed to understand that it was implied.

Alyssa seemed displeased with the response and looked at Aenys almost expectantly, but it was clearly not a battle that Aenys wanted to fight at the moment. Instead, he smiled at Rowan, and she could swear his lilac eyes seemed bloodshot.

“Thank you, Lady Evergreen. Our journey has been smooth.” he said, looking down at Viserys, who was looking up at the sky. Rowan assumed he was looking to spot dragons flying over the castle, and she knew he did not have to wait long. While Vhagar enjoyed a more solitary day, most of the unclaimed dragons liked to fly around. Rowan still found them all unnerving despite all the years she spent around them.

“I’ve had the maids draw baths for all three of you. I am sure you must be exhausted from your travels. Please, allow me to show you to your rooms.” she said, leading the way through Dragonstone’s all too familiar halls.

After showing Viserys to his room and showing his nursemaid where everything was, she showed Alyssa to hers, which was just across the hall from her son’s room. Alyssa seemed happy to rest, though she did not seem to let go of Visenya’s slight. Rowan was certain this was going to become an issue, but she knew the Dowager Queen would love for the fight to break out. Before she could say farewell to Aenys, he stopped her.

“May I have a moment, Rowan?” he asked before she left the room. His servants had just finished unpacking a few of the many cases of things he had brought, but he had stopped them, asking them for privacy. She could only nod.

“Of course, your Grace.” she replied, earning a smile from the King, who let his silent complaint against formalities be known. “Of course, Aenys.” she corrected herself, now earning a nod from him.

He seemed exhausted and Rowan wanted to ask him why not fly to Dragonstone on Qucksilver, who true to her name, would’ve been here a lot quicker than a ship. But then she rationalised it by thinking that after the attempt on his life, he would not wish to leave Alyssa and Viserys alone, and perhaps she would be uncomfortable to fly with him, even though she was still early in her pregnancy. Rowan decided not to bring it up at all.

“Can I ask?” he asked, almost shyly, looking at her face, or rather, her hair. “What happened to your hair?” he asked again, trying to not offend with an amused tone. She appreciated the politeness, but still looked away in shame.

“I…” she sighed. “I just had… a lot of emotions about being back here, and I somehow gained an incredible confidence to make a change to my appearance.” she gave a very watered down answer, trying to fight the embarrassment. “And yes, I regretted it immediately. I know it looks awful. It’ll… It’ll grow back. Eventually, I mean.” she mumbled, praying for that time to come soon so that she’d finally not have people stare.

“A lot of emotions?” he asked, his tone full of empathy. “About… him?” he asked once more, almost hesitant to scratch Rowan’s open wounds. She took in a slow breath. She understood that he’d want to know, that he was curious. She just didn’t expect it to come up so quickly, but then again, her sudden change of appearance warranted questions.

“Coming back here after what he did… I don’t know. All I could think about was that just outside the castle, he chose to marry another woman.” she finally said out loud. “I thought I was calm, sad but calm, but when I was done with my duties and I was all alone with my thoughts, it all became overwhelming. As if all the memories we had together here have been tainted with grief. As if I have the right to such grief.” she said with a shaky breath. “We… we used to play out there when we were small, you know?” she added, even though it felt like rubbing salt on her wounds. She was not his wife. She was not the one he betrayed. Yet no matter how many times she repeated that to herself, the worse it all hurt.

“Hey, don’t say that.” he approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his tone comforting. “You’ve every right to feel that grief. He hurt you.” he frowned, as he thought for a moment. Rowan took another deep breath, trying to shake her head, to pretend she was fine and that it was all fine. “Have you… heard from him?” he asked slowly, like he was unsure of what her reaction would be. Perhaps he was afraid she’d cut her hair again.

“I… yes and no.” she answered truthfully. “He keeps a correspondence with his mother and she sometimes tells me how he’s doing.” Rowan explained, leaving behind the fact that he indirectly addressed her in his letters. It was just too much to talk about with his brother, who he planned to dethrone. “Do you wish to write to him?” she asked, wondering if his question was trying to pry at how easy it would be to send a message to his exiled brother.

“No.” he said a bit too quickly. “No, I do not. I have nothing to say to him, I was only worried about you.” he explained further, as if his defensive tone didn’t betray him. Rowan returned his look of sympathy and bit her lip slightly.

“May I… May I be candid with you, Aenys?” she asked, trying to approach the subject lightly and carefully, so as to not scare him off.

“Of course you may. You always may!” he replied with a small smile. Rowan wanted to return it, but she felt too guilty. She felt there was a genuine foundation for friendship between them despite the formalities that held them back, and they were able to be really vulnerable with each other. Yet, now, she couldn’t be fully honest with him.

“Why not call for him? Ask for his help? Let him bring things back in order?” she asked slowly, hesitantly. Aenys seemed taken aback by her questions for a moment, but he shook his head, a small smile of disbelief on his lips as he walked away from her.

“Of course you’d suggest this.” he sighed, almost disappointed. “Do you wish to see him?” he asked, his tone suggesting this was an accusation. Rowan shook her head, ashamed for bringing it up.

“I am angry.” she started. “You have no idea how angry I am at him for all the grief he has brought upon me, for all he did to Ceryse. But Aenys, you cannot keep doing this. They made an attempt to kill you! How long until they try again? And Aegon and Rhaena? What if they become targets?” she asked, trying to get him to see reason.

“You think I don’t know this? Is it not clear as day that I do not sleep?” he snapped, his voice still low, trying to not shout. Rowan frowned, ashamed at the implications of her tone. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be sharp.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“But you’re not taking any action! So let Maegor do it. Ask for his help, and then when things are calm again, you can see what to do about his banishment. The city will fall apart if you don’t do something.” she pleaded with him, trying to swallow her guilt.

“You think he’ll actually do it? Come back after I exiled him; after our shouting match?” he mumbled, contemplating for a moment. “He’d sooner laugh in my face for failing than ever complying with my orders again.” he frowned deeply. His relationship with his brother was clearly a very sensitive subject at the moment. It was something they both shared it seemed, a big sensitivity to the topic of Maegor Targaryen.

“He’s your brother. No matter how angry he is, he will not ignore your call for help.” she approached him, trying to reassure him that his brother would return if he called for him to. Yes, she knew that he had much bigger plans than to just help his brother, but she knew that deep down, Maegor also wished their relationship was better.

“I think if you call for him, he’ll do it. He’d fly here as soon as he had your letter in his hands.” he laughed dryly. Rowan hated how her heart fluttered at his words. It hurt, it all still hurt so much, but she’d be a huge liar to say she didn’t love him with every fibre of her being. “How humiliating that I’d go running back to my little brother, after such a scandal.” he sighed again. “I see them all, you know, my Kingsguard, and how frustrated they are with me. How they’re all silently comparing me to him, and sometimes, I cannot help but do it too. I hesitate, I know, and he does not. The one time he did hesitate, it cost him you, and he won’t hesitate again. That’s why they all would rather have him here instead.” he confessed, his voice slightly above a whisper, leaving Rowan speechless.

Her heart was in a twist, hearing Aenys speak out loud about that fateful day. It was true, Maegor told her himself, that he hesitated to argue further with his father in order to please him, and it cost him their life together. It hurt further to also hear that it was the reason he became so ruthless, even though she knew it deep down. It was too much for both of them.

“Please rest. Have your bath and sleep. Please sleep.” she patted him on the back. He looked so frail up close, it was worrying. She would tell her worries to the maester as well as the ladies in the kitchens. Some more hearty meals, something to give him more energy, it would do him good. Aenys appreciated the kind gesture and offered her a kind smile.

“Let me think about it.” he said. “Thank you once again for your honesty, Rowan. And I’m sorry about your hair.” He escorted her out of his room and offered one last smile before closing the door.

Rowan felt horrid for knowing about Visenya and Maegor’s goals and knowingly urging Aenys to make a decision that would help aid those goals. She found herself walking the familiar route to Visenya’s rooms to let her know that the King, Queen and young Prince were settling in, all the while she contemplated her own actions.

Would it not be for the best if Maegor returned? She had to think of the stability and safety of the people, and the huge political and economic unrest that these rebellions would bring to everyone. While yes, her house had the utmost privilege of being well protected, what of those who weren’t? What of all those caught in the crossfire? And the effects all of this would have on the smallfolk, who depended on all the houses to make good decisions?

She hated to think about what would come next, about the conflict between the two brothers once Maegor’s plans became real. Because in what way would there be a smooth transition of power? Still, she thought that Aenys would be much happier without the heavy burdens of the crown. He’d get to sleep calmly and not worry about the safety of his children, perhaps travel around the seven Kingdoms… Perhaps Rowan was deluding herself into justifying Visenya and Maegor’s plans.

She entered Visenya’s room with a heavy heart, finding her lounging on her chair, a letter in her hands. A sight that was very common these days. She looked up, urging her to come in and sit as well, before passing the letter to her.

“Your father wrote to me. He worries about you, says you haven’t written back to him, or to Erin and Finn.” she explained as Rowan read over her father’s letter. “What’s wrong, my girl? You normally write to them all the time.” she said, cupping her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Rowan felt ashamed. She had tried to write to her family, and yet when she was alone in her room, all she could do was wallow. She’d lie in bed trying to rationalise all her emotions, and then her mind would take her right back to that altar outside the castle gates and all she’d think about was that day, that decision, that ceremony, that she did not even witness the same way she did Ceryse’s, and yet it hurt a thousand times more.

“Why are you apologising to me?” Visenya asked with a gentle tone. When Rowan did not answer, she patted the space next to her. “Come here, sit.” She complied, and was welcomed into Visenya’s embrace.

Neither said anything.

She felt that Visenya was, once again, being extra gentle with her, like she was made of glass. She could not protest, as she was sure that she was acting like a nervous wreck. And her father, her sweet father, whose letter to Visenya was full of care and concern for her, his only child? Gods, she felt so guilty. Normally she’d write to her family so often, that her lack of letters now had raised concern. But what would she write? ‘Forgive me father, I was a wreck because I am haunted by memories and I also cut my hair and I look ridiculous’?

Visenya did not need her to say anything at all. She knew. And Rowan could not be more grateful to have her in her life. She gave her the space to wallow and cry, and she hugged her and played with her hair. It was everything she wished her mother could do if she were still alive. Thankfully, Visenya had gladly taken the role.

“How about tonight you write to your father, hm?” she asked softly, as she moved stray hairs out of her face. Rowan nodded. She had to write back eventually, better start now. “Then you can tell me what Alyssa’s face was like when she saw you instead of me.” she japed, rubbing her shoulder and trying to get a smile.

Aenys paced around his room. He was restless and even after a bath, he could not wind down to sleep, for there was far too much happening in his mind. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, something he used to relish in before all this mess, looking on expectantly, ready to be let down once more. He found himself on the desk, staring at a bank parchment, quilt in his shaking hand.

It could be a horrible idea, to unleash Maegor in all his anger and resentment onto the realm, to burn all those not fiercely loyal to the crown. It was everything his parents told him to never do, but as he stared at the parchment and thought about the fact that his children were in danger, that his wife could be next, that everything could crumble beneath their feet, what choice did he truly have?

How could he even begin to address his little brother? How could he put into words all the dread that consumed him? Would his brother even accept his plea of help? Perhaps it would be best if he asked Rowan to write to him. He would never hesitate to come to her aide if she were to ask, while Aenys was unsure he could claim the same.

Dear brother,

Then what? What could he even say that wouldn’t be awkward? He felt like a dog with its tail between his legs, running back to his brother who he exiled for his help. He sighed. Then what was to come if he accepted? Would he bring Alys Harroway back to King’s Landing with him and force him to acknowledge her as his wife the same way Ceryse was? That would cause an even bigger rift between the crown and the faith, along with his good sister’s family. Perhaps if he asked him to return alone? Or even better, if he asked Rowan to write to him and ask him to return alone? Surely he would.

His attention shifted from the parchment to the door, when his guard announced the arrival of his wife. Aenys was surprised to see her walking about, as he had expected her to relax and rest after their long travels. Alyssa looked concerned as she approached him, her eyes searching his face, looking for something.

“I thought you would like to rest, my dear, why are you all dressed up?” he asked, reaching for her hand to place a kiss on when she came close. She was much more dressed up than he was, looking like a proper Queen, while he was dressed down as he felt exhausted.

“I could say the same about you. I thought I’d find you sleeping.” she smiled. He felt guilty as he nodded. He was not fully honest with her about losing sleep. They did not share a room on most nights, much less now that she needed all the comfort she could get, so she did not see him lying wide awake at night. She did not need to worry about him as well. Alyssa’s smile fell as her eyes darted to the parchment in front of him, as she realised who he was planning to write to. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m… I’m not so sure myself.” he confessed. “I thought I could ask my brother to return, to help us. But I fear I cannot find the words.” he explained further, looking back down at the letter, partly avoiding his wife’s gaze. She looked upset.

“Aenys, have you really thought this through? Why not send an army, or call our bannermen? This cannot be the best option.” she protested, looking at him like he was crazy. She looked bewildered that he would actually consider it, as did he.

“He is my brother, Alyssa.” he said, trying to find the right words to explain how he felt, but he could not. His mind was such a mess that he could not trust himself fully.

“Your brother who disrespected and undermined your word? The son of the woman who mocks you and cannot hide her disdain for you, despite the fact that you are King?” she asked, her tone still bewildered. She was right, of course she was, but still…

“I’m thinking of our family, of our children, of you and the babe! Believe me, I would love a better, easier solution, but as every single person keeps reminding me, I am running out of time!” he snapped, immediately regretting his tone, but Alyssa did not waver. Instead, she took his face in her hands, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“We will find a solution, one that will not make the realm hate and ridicule us.” she reassured him as she cupped his cheeks. “But now we must go speak to your aunt. It was a huge slight, what she did this morning. Sending her lady in waiting instead of greeting us herself. No matter how she feels regarding Dragonstone being passed to Aegon, you are still the King. She should not disrespect you like this with no consequence.” she said.

“I do not have it in me to fight with my aunt.” he sighed, looking away from her eyes. It was already hard enough knowing his aunt still frightened him, just as she did when he was a child, and the fact that he was now here because it was safer, because she made Dragonstone safe, he could not handle any arguments, or her cold comments. He was tired.

“If you do not, she will only get worse. My love, let us go see her and at least hear what she has to say about her actions.” she insisted, and Aenys could do nothing but relent.

She called for the servants to come dress him, as he could not make a statement in his plain clothes. The fine purple robes felt heavy, everything did. His wife was right, he could not keep accepting disrespect, but he was in no mood to make a fuss.

Accompanied by his Kingsguard, they made their way to the chamber of the painted table. His aunt was dressed regally, a statement of her own, but she was not overlooking the table, rather preferring the window. As always, her lady Rowan was by her side, writing down what she was telling her. Rowan looked up, surprised to see him and Alyssa, and curtsied promptly. Visenya remained unmoving, not acknowledging the King and Queen, a silent challenge to see if he dared to speak.

“Your grace-” Rowan spoke up, ready to fill their cups, but Alyssa stopped her.

“We would like some privacy, lady Evergreen.” Alyssa said, offering Rowan a kind smile. Rowan did not leave straight away, instead looking up to Visenya, to see what her orders would be. His aunt did not move from her place, but nodded at Rowan to dismiss her.

She offered them all another curtsy before leaving the room, but Aenys could swear she shot him a worried look, one that told him to watch his step, to not make enemies.

With Rowan gone, the room had an eerie silence. He could hear his own heart beating in his ears. He felt like a child about to be scolded, but Alyssa was angry at his aunt’s blatant disrespect. His wife shot him an expectant look, telling him to speak up. He took a breath and wished Rowan was not dismissed, as she could perhaps keep the peace between them.

“I hope you’re not feeling ill. I could only assume so, since you did not come to greet us.” he tried to sound confident, the way Alyssa needed him to be. His aunt still did not move to face them, but her face hardened. He could feel a lump in his throat as he braced himself for impact.

“Did you find my lady’s greeting lacking?” she asked coldly, her tone harsh. The question was ironic, as it was another challenge to push him further. He felt Alyssa shift next to him.

“It is customary to greet your King and Queen in person.” she said, her voice moving dangerously close to passive aggressive. His aunt, once more, refused to turn. Her eyes were pinned somewhere outside, in the yard.

“Is it now?” she asked coldly. “As you can see, I am terribly busy preparing the castle for potential attacks- I know the concept is completely foreign to you both, but it is a demanding task.” her words dripped with condescension. Both Aenys and Alyssa stiffened, as Visenya slowly turned to face them, looking down at them as if they were but bothersome children and not the King and Queen. “Tell me, how did you manage to humiliate yourselves even more, then come running here demanding I come say hello to you?” she asked.

“What happened in King’s Landing was… unfortunate. As you know, the Red Keep is not yet finished and…” he trailed. It was a lie. What happened shook him to his core, but he had to stand tall, or at the very least try to. “I can only hope your feelings toward me need not be made public. I do not wish to reprimand you for disrespect.” he managed to say, before his aunt let out a cold laugh.

“Reprimand me?” she laughed. “Where did this nerve come from?” she challenged him, but Aenys did not know how to respond, so she went on. “You exile my son, you grant his title to your brat of a son, and yet what do you have to show for it?” she spat, her anger no longer masked. He did not have time to react to the insults before Alyssa did.

“Aegon is the heir to the throne.” she stated, her tone hiding an almost threat, like she was trying to put his aunt in her place. “It is only natural that he is the Prince of Dragonstone. Your husband was the one who planned this.” she said that last sentence with a pointed look, like she wanted to hit her where she knew it would hurt, angered by the insult hurled at their son.

Aenys froze completely when she brought up his father. Alyssa was never this bold or fierce before. She was lively and charming and kind, but never quick to anger. He assumed it was because she was with child, her instincts to defend her children being heightened. Not to mention all the stress of the past moons. He wanted to admire her, had this not been the worst possible thing to say to his aunt.

Visenya’s eyes hardened and if looks could kill, they’d be dead where they stood. Her gaze was ice cold and he could feel himself shrinking in fear as she slowly walked closer to them, until she was standing right before them, towering above him like he was still a small child.

“Strong words coming from a fool. Do you think your boy will even have a throne to inherit with how you’ve been running things? Where is he now? Being chased down by rebels?” she asked, staring Alyssa down. Aenys just wanted to disappear.

“Is this amusing to you?” his wife demanded when she saw the smirk on his aunt’s face.

“Hilarious.” she spat. “It is hilarious to me that you come to my home demanding respect you’ve done nothing to earn, but I suppose it cannot be helped, since you’ve both been spoiled rotten.” she crossed her arms as she stared them both down. Alyssa went to answer, but this time, he interrupted.

“I do not wish to fight, or argue with you.” he said, his tone almost pleading. He could not say the same for Alyssa. “I wish to protect my family from rebels. I’ve tried asking them what they want, to come to me with their concerns, but they only hurl insults at me-” he began to explain, before he saw the flash of anger in Visenya’s eyes.

“You are a fool and a weakling, nephew. Do you think any man would’ve ever dared speak so to your father?” she asked. Aenys did not even have to answer, they all knew no one would dare. “You have a dragon. Use him. Fly to Oldtown and make this Starry Sept another Harrenhal, or give me leave and let me roast this pious fool for you.”

Her words hung in the air and he found it hard to breathe. His first instinct was to say no, to deny her call to violence. But was this not why he was considering calling for Maegor to return? His aunt was right, no man would dare speak to his father the way the rebels spoke to him, and neither would they speak so to Maegor. They knew better.

He could not imagine himself flying into battle with Quicksilver. He flew often, at least he used to, before his father’s death. His mother would take him flying on Meraxes when he was small, until his Quicksilver was big enough to ride, and then they’d take to the skies together. He was no warrior, and neither was his dragon. He could not risk her getting hurt by his own foolishness. He loved Quicksilver, she was a part of him. She flew above their ship the whole time it took for them to sail here.

“Do not speak to him like that!” Alyssa’s voice snapped him back to reality. Her first instinct was to defend her husband, another trait he would admire if he was not worried his aunt would strike them both down with Dark Sister, which she carried everywhere.

“Or what? What will you do?” Visenya asked, her tone almost amused, like she was arguing with a child throwing a tantrum, which only angered Alyssa more.

“Please, enough of this!” he pleaded, standing in between them. “The hour grows late, let us all rest. We shall discuss this tomorrow.” he looked at his aunt, trying to silently ask her to see him and not ignore his presence.

“Very well.” his aunt concluded.

The tension was still thick in the air, but the guard’s announcement of Lady Rowan’s return brought a sense of relief to Aenys. She rushed in the room, not offering any pleasantries or curtsies, instead walking up to his aunt, her face flushed with worry.

“Your graces, forgive me for interrupting, but the news I’ve just received are rather urgent.” she apologised, showing the raven scroll in her hands. Aenys could feel his heart stop- had something happened to his son and daughter?

“What happened?” his aunt asked promptly, meeting her lady halfway across the room. It was then that he recognised the opened seal on the scroll, green, a Hightower seal. He shared an alarmed look with Alyssa, the realisation that something could’ve happened to their good sister hitting them. Rowan took in a shaky breath.

“Lord Manfred Hightower is dead.” she announced to them all, but her eyes were on Visenya, whom she handed the scroll to. “A fever has taken him.” she added, with worry clear on her face. Her mind was clearly going to her friend, Ceryse. “His eldest son, Lord Martyn Hightower is now the Lord of the Hightower, the head of his house, beacon of the south, defender of Oldtown and the Citadel and Lord of the Port.” she finished the announcement, trying to sound as proper as she could.

Aenys was once again speechless.

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#maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #aenys targaryen #aenys my beloved astrology king

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librosamarillos · 1 month

Text

passed down like folk songs

chapter 38: in my head i do everything right

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Visenya tapped her fingers on the vanity. Rowan was never late, a trait she had inherited from her father. It was only normal that after everything she’d need more rest than she normally did, but Visenya was beginning to worry. The past few days on Dragonstone had been peaceful, and Rowan was clinging onto routine as a distraction from her melancholy, so the fact that she had yet to join her for breakfast was making her anxious. She stared at her own reflection, deep in thought. She was ready to go and check on her, but, as if she were hearing her thoughts, Rowan knocked and entered the room, a few letters in hand.

But the letters were the last thing on Visenya’s mind, as her eyes darted to Rowan’s hair. It had been a very long time since she had been stunned into silence. Rowan’s hair, the beautiful hair that framed her face so elegantly, was now back to being short, like it was when she was a child. Rather, a more honest approach would be that she had attempted to cut it like so, but it came out crooked and uneven, too short for her face, to the point where instead of framing her forehead, it had curled up. Judging by the clear embarrassment on her face, she had tried to do this herself, with no assistance.

“What happened?” was all Visenya could muster out. She wondered if she had drunk too much wine, but the girl would barely touch a cup, let alone get drunk. But perhaps heartbreak had led her to try something she hadn’t done before?

“I… I wished for a small change…” she replied, almost too ashamed to look at her. The change was anything but small. It was choppy and wonky and it was painfully obvious that it was a mistake.

“And you did not wait for any help from the maids? Quite a few of them know how to cut hair.” Visenya asked, approaching her slowly, trying to take in her new appearance. She looked ashamed once more. Of course she knew that the maids were skilled in cutting hair, but she did not seem to be thinking much while picking up the scissors.

“It was… it was a sudden decision…” she mumbled while Visenya studied her hair. Maegor’s actions affected her all the way here. No matter how calm she tried to keep, it seemed that her sadness overtook her judgement.

“I can see that.” she replied, trying to adjust some of her curls in a way that could conceal her choppy work, but with little success. It must’ve shown on her face, because Rowan spoke up as Visenya tried again.

“Is it horrid?” she asked, seemingly terrified of the answer. It did. It absolutely looked awful. But as raw and straight forward as Visenya was, she was not about to push Rowan into an even bigger pit of misery, so she shook her head.

“No, not horrid. Just… uneven.” she said softly. It was not easy to find gentle words to describe her awful haircut, but she’d manage to find some. “Do not cut any more. Let it grow out a bit and let the maids help you, my girl.” She comforted her, patting her back.

“I was feeling overwhelmed.” Rowan admitted, alluding to her late night decision. Visenya had many nights like that, overwhelmed by anger, sadness and grief, but they often ended with her taking dark sister to the training yard, not by giving herself a new and drastic makeover.

“I understand. A lot has happened.” she added softly, trying to think of something to take her mind off of things. She looked over to her vanity, thinking of applying some oils onto her hair to help with the frizz, but she knew Rowan had her own that she preferred to use. The younger girl followed her gaze, but caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and her brows furrowed.

“Gods… it looks hideous!” she shook her head, her eyes beginning to water.

“Nonsense! Come here.” Visenya was quick to intervene, lifting Rowan’s face in her hands, her expression one of sympathy. She rubbed her cheeks before moving her hands back into her freshly cut curls. “Just separate the curls a little bit and… alright, I’ve made it worse.” she bit her lip, as she realised she only made her hair much frizzier and more noticeable than before. “Once you’ve washed it and it curls back naturally, it’ll look much better.” she added, trying to save the situation from complete and utter humiliation, but it was not an easy task.

“I look a mess, it’s no use.” Rowan sighed, shaking her head again. Visenya frowned again, lifting her face with her hands once more. Sad, that’s what her eyes were betraying. Her poor girl felt everything too much.

“Do not say that. You are absolutely beautiful and lovely. This is just a bit messy. It’ll grow out in no time, before you even notice.” she reassured her again, giving her cheeks a squeeze, like she did when she was a child. Rowan sniffled, trying to not upset herself even more, but it was clear she did not believe her words.

The next fortnight was making Visenya feel vindicated in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Ravens and letters came flooding to Dragonstone, giving her updates of what was happening all over the realm, and things were not looking that good for her weak nephew. The capital was anticipating an attack. There it was, clear as day, and yet he was still hesitating to act. Still hesitating to get on his dragon and burn them all to the ground. She had always told Aegon he had spoiled him.

She was not about to allow anything like that to happen to Dragonstone, so she was preparing everything to keep it safe. The threat of Vhagar’s wroth was enough of a warning to any of those Warrior’s sons who were feeling overly brave.

In a sense, having Rowan worry about something as trivial as hair was a breath of fresh air. She had seen the girl worry about so many serious things, that made this distraction a very welcome one, regardless of how short lived it was. Visenya watched over the guards and knights from her solar window, and she felt the young girl joining her.

“Do you plan on flying over the capital?” Rowan asked, straightening her skirts after being seated for hours. A gentle way to ask if she planned on helping her nephew.

“I do not plan to offer him any help. He’s made his choices, let him live with them.” she replied, sharply eyeing the men preparing their weapons. Swords and axes and hammers and arrows. Good.

“What of Viserys and Alyssa?” Rowan asked, following the dowager Queen’s gaze. “What if… what if amidst the chaos that will ensue, something happens to them?” she added, turning to look at Visenya, who frowned.

“The King can handle it. He’s made that quite clear, has he not?” she asked sarcastically. Aenys had felt so confident in robbing her son of his title, let him deal with the realm on his own then.

“What if he cannot?” Rowan countered, fully turning to face her now. “You know how he is, what if he cannot protect them? Viserys is but a child, and Alyssa-”

“Do you truly think Alyssa was not in his ear, speaking in favour of her son receiving Dragonstone over mine?” Visenya asked dryly, turning to face Rowan as well. Of course Rowan knew, she was no fool, but she was too kind.

“I know. But they are still your blood. And seeing as Maegor has no heirs, any of the children’s deaths would make it harder for you two to establish stability once more.” Rowan replied, causing the former Queen’s brow to raise. Finally, Rowan spoke in a tone that got Visenya to stop. “Not to mention, the children are innocent. Completely innocent. They should be kept safe, if not in King’s Landing, then here.” she pleaded, her voice laced with concern.

Visenya thought for a second before smiling, pride in her eyes. As much as her girl had been unsure and scared and depressed, she still knew her language, still understood how she operated and how she thought. She turned her gaze to the window once more.

“I will not turn them away if they come here seeking refuge.” she concluded, making Rowan sigh in relief. It would not be wise to let them die out, even though their stupidity would surely lead them to early graves. It would be inconvenient.

She had given Rowan an early dismissal that day, giving her some well earned rest, after making her swear upon the seven to not touch her hair again. Visenya had loads of intricacies to plan out, to make her son’s return as smooth and grand as possible, so she’d stay over the map a bit longer. It was empty without Aegon next to her, helping each other with different tactics and ideas, though she doubted he’d be enthusiastic about his favourite son getting humiliated before the realm.

She decided to write to Duncan, as she wanted to keep him updated on how his daughter was doing, and she was walking down to the rookery to send a raven, when an interesting conversation caught her ears.

“Gods, you reckon she did that on purpose?” a female voice asked, her tone hushed. She recognised it as one of the maids, but she could not pair it to a face or name, not without revealing herself completely.

“Of course not! Who would do such a thing on purpose?” an older woman responded, almost offended that the first woman even asked such a thing. This caught Visenya’s interest, so she stalled, her letter still in her hands.

“Oh mother above, why would she do such a thing? She had the most beautiful hair, why would she go on and chop off the front bits? She could’ve asked me! I would’ve helped her if she wanted to have it frame her face again.” a third, more familiar voice sighed. Visenya raised both brows in amusement, as she realised they were talking about Rowan.

“So, who do you think broke her heart?” the first woman asked again, earning a confused ‘huh?’ from the third one. “That’s always why young maidens chop their hair all funny. No, no, really! Happened to my niece, when a boy she liked was caught with another woman in the stables! She chopped off her long hair all by herself! And gods, consoling her after the fact? Took ages!” she explained further, earning an amused gasp from the other two.

“You forget, the Lady Rowan is not the niece of some maid, she’s a proper lady!” the older woman countered, lightly patting one of them on the shoulder.

“Not to mention, the favourite of Queen Visenya, so you better hush before someone hears you!” the third woman scolded, but in a lighthearted tone. “The Lady Evergreen is kind and sweet, and it is not proper to joke around about her hair.”

“Were you not just crying about why she didn’t ask you for help just this very moment?” the second woman laughed. “Besides, it’s only hair. It will grow out.” she concluded, and Visenya could hear the three women start to disperse. “But come on, she does look funny.” the woman laughed, but once she turned the corner and came face to face with Visenya herself, her laughter died that very second.

The three maids immediately curtsied and kept their heads down in shame, as they realised Visenya had heard everything. She eyed them for a moment, recognising one as the maid assigned to Rowan. It was good that she was the one standing up for her.

“I believe you have better things to do than stand here talking about hair?” she asked, causing the three women to nod quickly before she dismissed them. She looked at their leaving forms for a moment longer, before slowly making her way to the rookery once more.

Duncan was going to be furious.

Aenys walked around the gardens, in a very rare moment of free time. Everything was a mess, everything was chaos and he was barely keeping himself together. His mind was on Rhaena and Aegon, who had begun their progress. It still felt like yesterday that he and Alyssa had seen them off, and it had been a moon and a half.

He kept telling himself that it would all be alright, as he was following his father’s plan to the letter, which was the only reason Alyssa had calmed at the idea of sending their eldest children away at such a rocky time. They would be alright. He had to remain positive. The people cheered for him and Alyssa, and they would surely cheer even louder for their children.

The gardens were still unfinished. It was one of the first things he had thought to fix when he became King, and yet here he stood, in an unfinished garden, in an unfinished realm that was on edge. His father was fond of roses, as he knew he had a garden on Dragonstone. There weren’t that many here, so he walked around to try and find some in bloom. He was just turning the corner, when he felt someone running up to him.

What followed was a complete blur, as he felt someone grab him by the cape and drag him back. He didn’t even have the time to scream out for help when he felt the man draw a blade. Thankfully, the Kingsguard were swift to save him, dragging the assassin away to the cells. Aenys was completely shaken as he was rushed back to safety.

He hated making Alyssa worried, let alone when she was with child. She had been resting when the attack happened, and rushed to Aenys’ rooms to comfort him. It hadn’t fully dawned on him what had just happened, until Alyssa went to touch the small cut on his neck. It was then that he realised that had the guards been a second late, he would be dead.

Alyssa was saying something, but no matter how much he tried to focus, he could not make out the words that were coming out of her mouth. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his throat was closing up. All he could see was his wife’s worried face, trying to calm his panic. He should be angry, should he not be angry? Should he not be shouting at his guards for allowing anyone to come this close to him to attack him? Then why did he feel like a frightened child, needing comfort?

“I don’t understand.” he kept repeating silently, as Alyssa ran her fingers through his hair. “Why don’t they like me? Why won’t they just speak to me? Why, Alyssa?” he asked and asked, before he realised his wife was crying. She did not understand either. He did what he was supposed to. He did as his father asked, and yet it was all crumbling. People no longer loved him, they all hated him for all he fell short of.

Panic arose once more. If they hated him so much, if he had fallen from their graces, then his family was in danger. If someone had managed to come this close to killing him, here, in the red keep, here with all the guards and protection, what was to happen to his children? They were so far away, and Alyssa and Viserys? What if someone had tried to harm them to get to him? Gods be good, what was he to do?

“You cannot stay here.” he said, finally shaking himself up. Alyssa was caught off guard, looking at him with worry, her eyes questioning. “It is not safe, I cannot risk anything happening to you, or Viserys, or our babe.” he took in a shaking breath.

“Aenys, what are you saying? We cannot run away from our castle. We just need more guards and-” she paused, trying to think, when she was not in any position to be making long term decisions with all her shock. Aenys shook his head. “We could… we could go to Driftmark, to my family. But I will not go without you, I will not leave your side.” she protested.

Driftmark was an option, but not the safest one. He had to swallow all his pride and shake his head again. Dragonstone was the safest place. It would be easier to control who came in and out of the island, and thus he could perhaps rest in ease. But there was an elephant in the room. How could he face his aunt again?

“Aenys?” Alyssa squeezed his hand lightly, trying to bring his attention back to her. “What do you think?” she asked, worried. She knew what he was thinking, but hoped she was mistaken. She did not get along with his aunt either.

“Dragonstone would be the safest place for you to go. I cannot risk your safety.” he said, and Alyssa sighed in disappointment. She could not argue. Visenya ran the castle so strictly, so harshly, that there was no room for error, for mishap. “Have the servants prepare your and Viserys’ things. I cannot risk another moment.”

“Aenys, I am not leaving without you. Either you come with us, or we all stay here.” she protested some more. It broke his heart to see her like this. Worried and stressed and unsure. It was all his fault.

But he couldn’t just run away, he couldn’t abandon his capital, the throne his father had forged with dragonfire. They’d all laugh at him, the coward King, the abomination as they began to call him. But what choice did he have? He could not leave Alyssa and Viserys in harm’s way for the sake of his own bruised ego.

The next few days he found himself unable to breathe, with the tension in the palace and the city reaching a new high. Home did not feel safe, because home was not safe. His mother wasn’t there to reassure him, and his father wasn’t there to protect him. It was like quicksand swallowing him whole and each attempt to pull himself out of it, it only pulled him down further. The only difference was that now, it was pulling Alyssa and their children down with him.

The people of the city were now fully against him, the high septon calling him a disgrace, a pretender who had no right to rule the seven kingdoms, an abomination. That’s what the man who tried to kill him believed, no doubt. The castle he was building was crumbling around him, leaving him in the middle of it all.

The Warrior’s sons had taken the sept of remembrance, the one on his mother’s hill, the one his father had built in her honour and her memory, and he stood there, doing nothing. His children were away from home, Rhaena without her dragon at his own insistence, a decision he was now regretting by the minute, as it would’ve been the only way for them to return to them unharmed. Alyssa was right to worry, right to doubt him. He had failed them again and again.

He had his servants prepare all his and his family’s most necessary items, but as he was rummaging through his rooms, he felt more lost than ever. How could one pack away all he deems important at a moment’s notice? Yes, he had clothes, but how could he leave behind his mother’s things? His father’s?

His father was never one for frill and beauty, but his mother loved it. Everywhere in her rooms, in his rooms, there were trinkets, little pieces of her. How could he part with them? Her elaborate headpieces, her jewels, her books, her old quills, what would happen to them if he was not there to look after them? What if, in his absence, thieves broke in and stole them, or worse, what if those who now hated him just destroyed everything they could get their hands on?

“Aenys, we’re not leaving forever, you do not have to pack every little thing.” Alyssa spoke softly, as she watched him from the comfort of the bed. She was still early in her pregnancy, but she needed all the rest she could get. Unlike him, she had managed to have everything packed in no time, and now she was trying to calm him down.

“I know, I know…” he mumbled, nodding, but did not at all stop rummaging through the drawers. Alyssa was right, but he could not do it. He couldn’t let go of the pieces of his mother he was left with. King’s Landing was home. It was where he was born, where he was raised, and now he had to leave it behind, with no certainty of when he’d return. And of all places he had been to, Dragonstone felt suddenly so far away and grim.

He wondered if Maegor had felt the same when he had to pack up his belongings within a day’s notice. This helplessness; this feeling of being lost, did he feel the same? No, he could not imagine his brother so attached to things to the point of stalling. He wondered what he’d say if he saw him right now. He’d scowl and berate him, just as he knew his aunt would do when they’d arrive to Dragonstone. He’d call him a coward, a shame, a pathetic weakling.

“Aenys?” his wife called for his attention again, perhaps because she realised he had tears in his eyes. “We can call for the servants to pack the rest.” she suggested, hoping to calm his nerves. She went to get up, but he shook his head.

“You do not have to get up. Just one more hour and I’m done, I promise.” he said, straightening his back. He couldn’t have Alyssa worrying about him as well. She was already worrying about so much, he did not wish to add more to her plate. Thankfully, she nodded, relaxing her head back on the pillows.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, before the doors opened, revealing a curious Viserys, followed closely by his nursemaid.

“Father, mother? Am I not to have my lessons today? At all?” he asked, barely able to hide his excitement. Aenys was well aware that Rhaena and Aegon would sometimes get Viserys out of his lessons with the maester to join them in their mischief, and he seemed to enjoy being included. He thanked every god that listened that their son did not pick up on the tense atmosphere, or if he did, he was not letting it affect him.

“No, my dear.” Alyssa spoke up, opening her arms for their son to walk into. “We will sail to Dragonstone soon, and you will continue your lessons there, but until then, I want you with me at all times. Do you understand?” she asked him, cupping his cheeks. Her voice was calm, and Aenys was in awe of how she could pull herself together to appear strong for their young son.

He wondered if he came across as calm, or strong. His father was always so calm, level headed, never afraid, not even when his mother was taken from them did he show any fear or uncertainty. Aenys took a shaky breath, feeling full of dread, and walked up to their son, ruffling his hair.

“It shall be a nice change of scenery.” he said, trying to mimic Alyssa’s steady tone. Again, much to his relief, Viserys nodded with excitement. He almost envied his little boy, as he was not yet fully aware of all the pressure and problems that plagued the adults, only concerned with his toys and his friends.

As Viserys jumped onto the bed, explaining in heavy detail his plans to find an egg once they reached Dragonstone to Alyssa, Aenys turned his attention to the drawers in front of him. There was so much, too much to leave behind, all of the things he wanted to pass on to Rhaena when she was old enough.

He did not know what to do with his eldest two. Would they be safer if they were to remain away from King’s Landing, or should he demand they go to Dragonstone as well? Would those who hated them assume that he’d call them back and thus ambush them on the way, or if they’d be tracked down no matter where they were? He had to swallow his pride and ask his aunt for help.

With shaking hands, he continued to pack.

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