Aegon

Blessed, his mother said. But cursed was the right word. With the same dark brown locks the Queen had worn, Aegon felt like an outsider in his family. It wasn't fair—his brothers had inherited the signature silver hair, the mark of their lineage, while he hadn't. It was humiliating, walking around without the distinctive silver hair that marked Rhaenyra's sons. His nephews, he hated. Bastards, he thought, though he knew it was rude. His mother never shut him up; everyone knew the truth. This perceived injustice ate at him, perhaps fueling his self-destructive tendencies. The alcohol, the self-sabotage, the oversleeping, the overindulgence with women—all stemmed from being different from those he should be like and similar to those he despised. His head throbbed from the previous night's hangover, his stomach churned from gorging himself on an empty stomach, and his backside ached from sitting on the cold stone steps.

Blessed, his mother said. But cursed was the right word. With the same dark brown hair the Queen had worn, Aegon felt like an outsider in his family. It wasn’t fair—his brothers had inherited the signature silver hair that marked their lineage, while he hadn’t. It was humiliating, walking around without the distinctive silver hair that marked Rhaenyra’s sons. His nephews, he hated them. Bastards, he thought, though he knew it was rude. His mother never silenced him; everyone knew the truth.

This perceived injustice ate at him, perhaps fueling his self-destructive tendencies. The alcohol, the self-sabotage, the oversleeping, the overindulgence with women—all stemmed from being different from those he should be like and similar to those he despised.

His head was throbbing from last night’s hangover, his stomach was churning from gorging himself on an empty stomach, and his butt was aching from sitting on the cold stone steps. He watched the sun rise, fiery reds, acidic oranges, and purples sliding across the sky. The sun, not yet fully risen, was slowly lighting up the horizon.

Aegon didn’t hear the footsteps behind him at first, the ringing in his ears starting before he turned around. When he did, his eyes fell on you. He sighed quietly and looked away, finishing the last of his wine.

“I’ve been here all night, yes,” he said before his brother could speak. It wasn’t entirely true; he had spent a few hours wandering around King’s Landing, indulging in carnal pleasures and drowning his sorrows in drink. “And why are you here at dawn? Mother told you to find me? And you listened like the obedient dog you are?” The redhead shook his head at his brother.