Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Skyfall

Aegon POV

It's been a month since Viserys the Peaceful - he was partial to the Ineffectual or the Fool as Aenys' epithet was the Weak - died.

Great lords from every province have come to witness the ascent of the new king. The princess of Dorne and representatives from the Free-cities are also in attendance.

The Dragon Pit stood as a majestic monument to the Targaryen legacy, its immense structure filled with anticipation as lords, ladies, and commoners gathered for the coronation of Aegon II. The air crackled with excitement and reverence, for this day marked the ascension of a new king and the continuation of a dynasty.

Flanked by his siblings, Aemond and Daeron, Aegon stood tall and resolute at the center of the Dragon Pit. His eyes shimmered with a mix of anticipation and responsibility. The attendants, dressed in their finest attire, awaited the momentous occasion.

Since the day he was old enough to understand he was not his father's heir, and what that means for his survival and his family's, he's waited for this moment. Dreaded its impending arrival like the hangman. War was always on his mind since he turned ten and four.

Before that he could easily pretend to be in a protective bubble. The days of youth and camaraderie will stay forever. But at one point he was forced to shed his innocence and take up the reins expected of him as the future king.

It doesn't make this occasion any less surreal.

At the forefront stood his mother, Queen Alicent, adorned in regal garments befitting her station. Her expression held a mixture of pride and maternal love as she prepared to place the crown upon his head. Beside her stood Otto, his stoic and aged grandfather, who would make the announcement to the gathered crowd. Who is he kidding, Otto's mentally dancing in the clouds at this moment.

As the murmurs of the crowd subsided, the Hand's voice boomed throughout the Dragon Pit, commanding attention. "Lords and ladies, commoners and nobles, hear me now! It is with great honor and solemnity that I announce the coronation of Aegon of House Targaryen, second of his name, as the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms!"

The rightful ruler. Is there truly such thing?

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their voices echoing within the vast space. Aegon glanced at his mother, who stepped forward with measured grace, holding the crown in her hands.

The voice of the Beacon of the South resonated with pride as she addressed him. "Aegon, my son, the time has come for you to take up the mantle of kingship. May this crown symbolize your unwavering strength and dedication to the realm."

Is he a creature of duty? Does he even wish to rule? It's the absolute worst time to be considering this particular dilemma but he can't help it.

Fight or flight took precedence over his every instinct for so long, that he's left in a crossroads.

With great reverence, the Dowager Queen carefully placed the crown upon Aegon's head. The weight of the Conqueror's valyrian steel headpiece, bejeweled with seven blood-red rubies, settled upon him, a tangible reminder of the responsibilities that lay ahead.

There was no time for hesitation.

His eyes gleamed with determination and his voice carried with a sense of purpose. "I accept this crown, a symbol of my duty and the legacy of House Targaryen. With the Seven Kingdoms as my charge, I vow to protect and guide our realm to a prosperous future."

He wanted the throne. Maybe not for his own sake once upon a time. But the more the idea took root, the more it felt right.

He knew he'd do an exceedingly better job than Viserys or Daemon and Rhaenyra. Then again the bar was so low, he ought to find a better comparison.