Living the Dance | aegon ii targaryen

Four

Navigating the aftermath felt surreal, like stepping into the pages of a history book, only this time, I had the chance to scribble in the margins, perhaps even alter the narrative. With the night's drama still echoing through the halls, I made a decision that felt both bold and utterly insane—I was going to try and stop a war before it even started. And to do that, I needed to get the ear of the two most powerful men in the realm. Well, one and a potential future one.

"I need to speak with The King and his heir, The Princess Rhaenyra" I announced, trying to sound more confident than I felt. The words felt strange in my mouth, like I was playing a role in a play I'd only half-rehearsed.

"And why should I grant you this... audience?" he sneered, the distain dripping from each word like poison from a blade.

"Because, my dear lord hand, that's between me, them, and the realm's future," I retorted with a smirk, flipping my hair for added effect. Honestly, playing cloak-and-dagger in the heart of Westeros was bizarrely exhilarating.

I could tell he was itching to dismiss me, to wave me away like an annoying gnat. But curiosity, that ever-powerful lure, seemed to hold him in place. That, or maybe he sensed that dismissing me outright could be a mistake. In this game, information was currency, and I had just hinted at a wealth of it.

Turning on my heel, I made my way towards the gardens, hoping to catch Aegon in one of his rare moments of solitude. If I was going to have any chance at swaying the tide, I needed him to listen. And not just hear me, but really listen. Aegon was key to all of this. If I could get him to see beyond his immediate desires, to understand the catastrophic chain of events that were in motion, maybe, just maybe, I could nudge the future onto a different path.

"Hey!" I called out, spotting Aegon lounging with that trademark mix of boredom and arrogance. "Got a minute? Actually, you're gonna need more than a minute. Let's chat."

The way he looked at me then, it was as if he was seeing me for the first time. Not just another face in the crowd, but someone who might actually matter. Whether it was the promise of secrets or simply the novelty of my approach, I had his attention.

As I approached Aegon, his initial surprise at my boldness quickly morphed into amusement. "And who might you be, to demand the time of a prince?" he asked, his tone laced with mockery yet tinged with curiosity.

"The name's Freya. And I'm not demanding, just... strongly suggesting. You'll want to hear this," I replied, trying to match his casual demeanor while my heart hammered in my chest. This was it, my shot to change the course of history—or at the very least, make a memorable impression.

Aegon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "Very well, Freya. You've piqued my interest. Speak then. What could possibly be so important?"

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was playing a long game here. "It's about the future. Your future. And how everything—this whole kingdom—could come crashing down if we're not careful."

Aegon's expression shifted, a flicker of seriousness cutting through his usual indifference. "Go on."

"You see, in my... let's call it 'world,' I know how this story goes. And it's not pretty. There's a war coming, Aegon. A devastating, pointless war that could be avoided if you and your family make different choices."

He scoffed, but I could tell he was listening. "You speak of the future as if you've seen it. Tell me, prophet, what is it that you suggest we do to avoid this calamity?"

"It starts with understanding, with seeing the people around you not as chess pieces, but as, well, people. With real emotions, ambitions, fears. It's about compromise, empathy, and maybe a bit of humility," I explained, trying to convey the gravity of the situation without overwhelming him.