Hotd Aegon - Tumblr Posts
Hi! I’ve got a request please for Aegon after he’s injured at Rook’s Rest where wife!reader won’t leave his bedside just watching him rest and helping care for him and soothing him when he’s able to wake up 🥺
-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader
{The days following Rooks Rest were spent by Aegon’s side and no where else}
Thank you for the request!! Enjoy my lovelies 💕
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It was a day just like the last, the morning sun was blocked behind the thick tapestry that hangs over the huge windows. It casts a hazy light through the chambers, the smoke from the candles dances through the soft rays of sun that peak between the gaps.
The chair beside Aegon’s sick bed was your new home, you slept and ate there- well what little you could stomach. The Maesters had advised you to get proper rest, urging you out of the room whenever they had to tend to him. However, all their complaints went in one ear and out the other.
You were adamant and so they all soon gave in, the desperation in your eyes must’ve spoken to something deep in Grand Maester Orwyle.
The sound of Aegon’s shallow breaths is the only sound that breaks through the silence, along with the faint crackle of candle flames that were starting to die out. You were almost on the cusp of sleep, your head tipping to the side as you try to fight off the heavy weight of exhaustion.
Although your attempts are futile, there was a restlessness that had coiled itself around your body holding you from finding peace ever since they had brought your husband back to the Red Keep in that wooden box, the memory still stirs your stomach unpleasantly.
Shaking the thought off you lean forward slightly, reaching over to brush his hair away from his face, your knuckles grazing over his unburned cheek. His skin is warm to the touch, hot with the leftover remnants of a fever he had not long broken.
You stare at him, watching him sleep so soundly that he almost looks at peace. If it weren’t for his pained expression and the way he weakly fists at the bedsheets then perhaps you might’ve tricked yourself into believing he was fine… just resting as the Maesters put it.
You dip a cotton cloth into the basin, wringing the water out before gently dabbing it against the untouched areas of his skin, the last parts of him that weren’t scorched. His body tenses up, and then a broken sigh passes through his chapped lips, the coolness brought him some relief if only for a few fleeting moments.
He sinks back into the comfort of the pillows as you bring the cloth over his chest, avoiding the marred skin. “… you’re still here?” He whispers, disbelief twinging through his broken tone, watching you through his bleary eye. He knows it’s you, despite the daze he is in. He can tell by the way you tend to him with a certain care that the Maesters didn’t have.
His voice sends a pang of hurt through your chest, hitting your heart. “Of course… I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, going back over to the basin to fold the cloth back in its place before walking over to him once more.
He had been in out of consciousness since this morning when you had witnessed him speak vaguely to Orwyle, his words then were slurred almost incoherent.
“You don’t have to.” He rasps, his actions betraying his words as his fingers twitch weakly in a desperate attempt to hold your hand. You meet him halfway, clasping your fingers around his palm.
“No, I want to. I’m not leaving you Aegon.” You tell him, more of a reassurance than anything. To soothe him whilst he remains in this almost delirious state. He nods feebly, a smile ghosting over his features, the feeling of your thumb caressing the inside of his wrist brings him peace of mind.
Your gaze casts along his body slowly, the dragon fire had caused a web of marred flesh over his chest and arm, across his face. An unsettling sight of pinks and reds, darker in some places and lighter in others as they blended into a violent purple in some areas, it was all extremely sensitive that even the bedsheets seemed to cause him a great deal of agony.
He watches the way your eyes study him, taking in the horrid sight that has become of him. He hates it more than anything, the look of grief in your eyes for a life that he was no longer able to live, long lost within the very same flames that had nearly claimed him. He hates it, such a solemn emotion doesn’t suit you.
Aegon looks up at you as if it was his first time really seeing you since he was first brought home. He seemed much more aware than he did yesterday. His purple eye brimming with tears that he has no control over, not right now in this condition.
“You look exhausted.” He states the obvious, looking at the deep bags underneath your eyes, although you are well aware of the fact. It was his shallow breaths that kept you from sleeping, far too scared that he might pass whilst you were unconscious.
You hum in acknowledgement, not trusting your voice to carry your words without breaking into a sob. His fingers squeeze your own, a wordless understanding, so softly that you barely even notice it.
You collect yourself, clearing your throat. “I’m okay, shall I get the Maesters?” Your words immediately make him shake his head, a desperate noise of protest slipping past his lips.
“No, stay. I need you.” He tells you, leaning into your palm with a shaky sigh.
His hand reaches for the soft velvet of your dress, trying to urge you closer to him, keeping you there with a small pained whimper. You wrap your fingers around his hands softly, looking down at him, trying to stop him with worry in your eyes as he tries to sit up.
“Stop it Aegon, you’re going to hurt yourself. I’m not leaving just lay back.” You promise, urging him to rest back down against the pillows. He mumbles something that sounds more like a jumble of pained blusters, letting you guide him back to the comfort of the pillows.
“Sit down with me,” he whispers in a strained tone, noting the hesitation in your eyes as you look across his burned skin.
You do ask he asks, perching yourself down on the edge of his bed. Your eyes search his expression for any signs of discomfort, but you are met with only a weak smile as his hand rests against your lap.
He looks over to the chair beside his bed, the blankets and pillows that were placed over the cushions, the small tray of food on the table nearby that had been untouched… you really hadn’t left his side? The thought chokes him up.
“You’ve been sleeping in that old chair this entire time? Don’t be silly…” He says, working his fingers between your own, his thumb stroking across your wedding ring. “You should be in bed… sleeping.”
“What use am I to you if I’m in bed?” You ask him, looking down at his hand as he caresses the small gemstones on your ring.
It had become some sort of habit of his, over time as he let you into his heart little by little. It brought him comfort to know that you chose to stay with him, for all his faults you still found yourself caring for reasons that Aegon can’t seem to comprehend even now.
Aegon furrowed his eyebrows slightly, a weak scoff escaping his chapped lips. Your selflessness would forever puzzle him. “You are my wife, I won’t have you wasting away.” He spoke with a sternness, he was worried about you. How much sleep have you had- or food for that matter- if any at all.
You sigh, opening your mouth to argue with him but he quickly cuts you off. “You’d be no use to me at all by torturing yourself like this, you silly girl…” The words carry some truth, but you were stubborn.
“You worrying about me whilst you lay here…like this… that is silly Aegon.” You tell him, looking down at your lap to your joined hands as his thumb continues to idly rub over the wedding band.
He grunts, looking up at you with a small frown but he can’t be mad. He missed you far too much to spend these moments arguing. “You are frustratingly stubborn… I missed you.” He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your ring.
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, letting him guide your hand to rest against his cheek. He leans into the warmth of your palm as your thumb caresses him once again.
“I’ve missed you… so much.” You breathe, words coming out hushed as you try to keep the tears from falling down your exhausted eyes.
He watches you with slight confusion as you suddenly scramble over to the tables beside your chair, grabbing something before joining him at his side once more. Before he can ask what you were doing you take his uninjured hand, gently pushing his own wedding ring onto his finger.
His heart stops for a moment, leaping into his stomach at the feeling. The affection, the gentleness, makes his throat close up and he can’t do much, rendered speechless as he stares up at you with disbelief.
“I thought you wouldn’t wake up… that you were-” dead… you can’t speak the word, you didn’t dear to, just in case in some sick turn of events it might come to fruition.
The tears fall freely, looking down at your wedding rings. A symbol that meant much more than just duty, you were entwined by the soul and heart, tethered to each other.
He reaches up to brush your tears away, his expression softening. “I’m here… I’m not going anywhere.” He rasps, hating the fact he can do more to soothe you. He’s never felt so useless before then he does right now.
“As am I… I’m not going anywhere.” your teary response makes him chuckle weakly.
“Come here…” he grunts, trying to play off the pain that was still searing through his body in hot flashes.
“No- I don’t want to hurt you.” You whisper, suddenly panicked as he tries to tug you down to him by his good arm.
He beckons you closer, his fingers curling around the back of your head. “You won’t… just please.” He begs meekly.
You steady yourself, pressing the palms of your hands against the mattress- being super vigilant of the burns that tarnish his body- as he lowers you down to kiss him. Your lips meeting his own gently before you pull away.
“No more. Rest before you overexert yourself.” You tell him sternly, getting up from the bed as he grumbles in a mixture of objection and pain, watching you walk back over to the wash basin. His complaints soon die down at the feeling of the cool damp rag pressing against his chest.
“Thank you.” He whispers, moulding back into the pillows. The chill it brings against his flushed skin was very welcomed.
“Shh, just relax.” You coo softly and it isn’t long before he’s drifting back off to sleep. His hand entwined with your own, your rings glistening underneath the soft candlelight, not willing to let go even in his unconscious state.
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I need him so bad, my bitch fine as hell 🤭💕🫶
{{also need whatever the fuck they’re giving him injected into my blood real quick}}
Aegon the victorious risen from the ashes, Aegon the peacemaker, Aegon the rebuilder…
AEGON THE REALM'S DELIGHT!!!
-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!reader
{The upcoming war has brought a great stress upon you which causes you to go into an early labour}
!CW!//blood, premature childbirth// Enjoy lovelies💕
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The days following Aegon’s coronation were nothing short of exhausting, the mornings dragged and the nights were sleepless. The new king found himself in over his head with the only solace being you, someone who has stubbornly been there for him since childhood.
There was a familiarity to your warmth and kind words of encouragement, you were his only constant in a world of ever-changing conditions and he latched onto that never willing to let go. Always checking up on you and the babe inside your womb with worried eyes.
In turn, you had done the same, constantly seeking him out when horrible thoughts of the brewing war were all that plagued your mind, leaving you paranoid and constantly on edge.
You were each other’s anchors in ways that you both never thought possible.
The afternoon sun drips through the clouds, casting warm orangey rays through Kings Landing and across the Red Keep, bathing your shared bedchambers in a comforting light.
It is supposedly meant to be peaceful, or that is what Aegon thought when he practically demanded for you to stay in bed. Yet it has proven to be much more stressful, the books and cross-stitching doing nothing to distract your mind from what lingers over the horizon.
You have taken to pacing the length of the room, much to the dismay of your maids who watch on with panic in their eyes. A few of them had prompted you to sit down, trying to sway you with tea and sweet cakes but you waved them all off with a frown, desperately trying to ignore the dull pain that was beginning to grow in the small of your back.
You refuse to believe that your baby is arriving, it is far too early, yet you can hear the Maesters voice in the back of your mind telling you how ‘stress is not good for the babe’.
“Your grace, please take a seat.” The youngest of your maids try once more, daring to step forward to you with careful footing as if you were some sort of scared deer.
At her words you shake your head, turning your back to her with a small sigh, your fingers pressing against your lower spine and your other hand resting against the swell of your belly.
“Where is my husband?” You demand, turning back to face the women whose eyes never leave you.
“The King is attending a small council meeting, he shan’t be long, your grace.” Her words do nothing to calm the way your hands tremble nor the thoughts that race through your mind, despite how soft her tone is.
You purse your lips together tightly with a sharp inhale as shooting pain rips through your lower abdomen, causing you to hunch over slightly, grasping onto a chair for support.
You can hear the women behind gasp, saying something about blood but it all seems like distant noise almost as if you were underwater. There is little you can do but groan in pain, finally allowing your maids to guide you over to your bed.
You know something is deeply wrong, having already been through this once before. But that was extremely different, your mother was there even Aegon who stood speechless in the corner of the room with wide eyes… Gods you were both so young then, it seemed like a memory that wasn’t yours.
Now you are alone, save for the Maesters and Maids who are frantically trying to keep your temperature down with damp cloths, water dribbling down the side of your temples as you lay in fear.
You push yourself up onto your elbow, resting up on the mountain of pillows, letting out a strained cry at the feeling of an agonising pain that cramps up your abdomen causing you to fist the bedsheets beneath you.
The sound of your bedchamber doors slamming open catches your attention, but only for a brief moment before collapsing back down against the bed with a stomach-churning cry.
The staff around you don’t dear to try and turn Aegon away, especially when his eyes darken at the sight of the blood stains on your chemise and bedspread, a heavy look of terror masked behind an anger that sends a chill through the hot room.
“She is bleeding— why is she bleeding?!” He shouts, demanding an answer from the Maester who is trying to coax you to breathe deeply and then push.
His demands are met with silence before Orwyle steps away from the bed where you lay, squirming in pain. The maids and nurses all rush together, trying to guide your breathing through your clenched teeth.
“The babe is breeched your grace, coming feet first.” Maester Orwyle says, casting his eyes down to the floor with a troubled expression.
The sound of your agony echos within Aegon’s mind sending his thoughts spiralling far out of his control, the helplessness of it all eats away at him making his hands tremble with frustration that he can’t do anything to help you, to take you away from this damned situation. His eyes dart around the room in a panic, looking anywhere but at you as if he was trying to find a hidden answer to save you from this nightmare.
“Well, then why are you still standing here? Do something, help her!” He shouts, slamming his closed fists down upon the wooden table as he watches the Maester scurry back to the bed.
He stands there frozen, his breathing ragged suffocating on his own emotions. He wants the throw things, and curse the gods, the mother and the warrior because where is mercy and strength as you lay there in this torment?
“Aegon…” the sound of his name leaving you so weakly, the hushed word that is strained in desperation tumbling past your chapped lips hits him square in his chest, almost flooring him in shock.
His body moves on its own, practically collapsing onto the edge of the bed with his brows pinched together and his glossed-over eyes looking down at you. He wants to help you so bad but the only thing he can do is stroke your hair away from your sweaty forehead.
“Do not leave, stay here please,” you plead through gritted teeth, looking up at him through your bleary sight.
“I am staying… I’m right here.” He tells you firmly, the back of his fingers caressing your warm cheek gently. The cool metal of his rings keeps your eyes from falling close, fighting the fatigue.
He watches you intently, every twitch of your face only sends him further down into this maddening spiral of despair and frustration. “You’re doing so well… keep going.” He whispers, brushing his thumb over your hot cheek.
Aegon doesn’t move from his spot beside you, allowing your hands to tighten harshly around his own each time your body is wrecked by a contraction. He takes one of the damp rags from the maids, dabbing it against your chest and face in hopes of soothing you, even if it is only for a mere second because he cannot… he will not sit there doing nothing.
“We must sit her up,” Orwyle says through the sounds of your screams, resorting to the last possible option.
“What will that do if not cause her more pain?… I will not have her suffer more than she already is.” Aegon retorts with a deep frown, his words stern and laced with worry.
He was extremely stubborn and firm, even more so when the matter was about you. Never letting you leave from his side let alone out of his sight any longer than needed and even then he made sure at least one Kingsguard was standing behind you at all times.
“It is noted that movement helps set the babe correctly, your grace.” His words do very little to calm the maelstrom of dread that wraps around his heart and chokes him up. “Unless you wish to leave her in the hands of the gods…”
Aegon’s eyes meet your own for a very brief moment, the gods have already failed her, he thinks.
“No… no sit her up.” He agrees, looping his arm around your shoulders and pushing you upwards as you demand and scream for him to stop, fingers digging into his arms as you call his name weakly.
The hours that you were in labour for the Red Keep was still, silently waiting on bated breath for news of you and your babes' wellbeing. The echoes of your screams and pleas were the only thing that could be heard even from all the way down in the kitchens.
It was the hour of the owl when you finally made the final push, sinking back down against the pile of soft pillows. “Congratulations your grace… a boy,” Orwyle announces as your son wails making his presence well known. The maids swaddle your son up in a clean blanket before placing him gently upon your chest.
You take deep laboured breaths, your eyes heavy with exhaustion as you look down at your son. He was tinier than the twins when they were born, so much more delicate, his breathing weaker.
Aegon was completely stunned, he doesn't know what to say or do, instead, he simply watches you and the way cradle the baby’s head ever so gently, greeting him with a soft kiss on his forehead.
He had seen this before but yet he still feels as if his heart might just leap out of his chest. An overwhelming feeling of pride bursts through him leaving him all teary-eyed and soft smiles.
“He’s beautiful.” Aegon finally breaks his silence, his voice thick with indescribable emotions. The words don’t do your son justice, the little ball of pureness that is cuddled up against your chest. He can’t believe that something so precious… so innocent could be half him but the shape of his nose could attest that, he was Aegon’s.
You nod softly, brushing the back of your finger across his cheek as you admire him. The rest of the world seems to disappear, the maids cleaning up around you turn into white noise, and all you can focus on is your boy.
“Would you like to hold him?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from all the crying and screaming that was so worth it for the price of this feeling of contentment that has washed over you.
He holds back a sharp response that his hands were too rough, too clumsy. The last thing he wanted to was hurt him, he was already so tiny. You can see the look of trepidation that passes through his amethyst eyes, he was hesitant.
Your fingers slip between his own, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t hurt him Aegon, I promise.” You tell him, melting away all of his persistent worries that had rooted themselves into his heart.
With a small, almost nervous, nod of his head, he pulls the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows before you place the newborn babe in his arms, his heart stops for a small second, the breath in his lungs completely gone and all he can do is marvel down at his son.
“You’re amazing…” he whispers, voice steeped in reverence as he casts his gaze down to you as if you were some sort of deity to worship. You had nurtured a life and now here he is holding that very same life, it completely astonishes him.
You chuckle at his words, lifting your hand to rest against his cheek ever so gently. He leans into the warmth of your palm, pressing a soft kiss against your wrist. “He’s ours Aegon, yours and mine.” You remind him with a weak smile.
It’s a simple word, ours. But the way you say it with such emotion, with no hesitation, leaving no room for doubt to plague his heart made him happy. So happy.
“Ours,” Aegon repeats, brushing the back of his fingers across his son’s cheek ever so gently. “Maelor…” He smiles, testing the name softly before looking back down at you as you nod in agreement, repeating the name lovingly.
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The following days were slow, quite a nice change of pace especially with everything that had been happening. You sit, leaning back against the velvet cushions of the chair, with Maelor in your arms as you wait for Aegon and the twins.
“Remember, you have to be gentle and quiet,” Aegon says, walking into the bedchambers with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera at either side of him.
They both let go of his hand before rushing over to you with wide curious eyes, looking down at their new sibling with excitement.
“Can he play with us in the garden?” Jaehaera smiles, looking up at you.
“Not just yet my sweet, he’s got a little growing to do before then.” You tell her softly, brushing her curls behind her ear.
“Am I allowed to read to him?” Jaehaerys asks next, his hand grasping the armchair as he leans over to look down at Maelor.
“Soon, let’s give him time to settle first.” He nods at your words and soon enough they’re both asking question after question.
Aegon stands behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders as you answer the twins with a patience he admires. The sight fills him with a sweet warmth that bleeds through him, his heart full of love. Perhaps the weight of the crown isn’t so bad if it’s for you four.
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Dad Aegon as he deserves.
its literally them yall
My fave idiot
Just a personal opinion but like we all know how gorgeous Tom Glynn- carney is and him as Aegon is Chefs Kiss but-
SPOILER -(for everyone who hasn’t watched the last few episodes of s2)
They really wanna make me believe Aegon is ugly now half burnt? Like he’s still serving Face? Not gonna lie it’s not *that* bad -
Still a pretty boy
Pls tell me I’m not the only one
Okay but like uspering the throne might as well be considered a Targaryen family tradition from how often they do it. Aegon was just one of the only ones called out for it. I mean like how do we not know that he just wanted to do the generational prank of usurping an older sibling? Like maybe he was going to release a video a few days afterward revealing it was a prank and he wanted to follow the family tradition.
The thought of Aegon dead only at age of 24 as the last sibling in the family and full of nothing but hatred and madness in his heart always kills me.
That’s my sweetheart boy————
I just need everyone to know how sweeeeeet and waaaaaarm he is, such a sunshine booooy
I’m 98.7% sure this was—
Jace and Aegon ‘s wedding night.
Prove me wrong
Aegon: trying his 7th new shirt before hitting Jace’s apartment
Aemond: building a 3000-pieces Millennium Falcon Model as a gift to Luke
Daeron: You guys are so fucked-up and obsessed with our NEPHEWS. It’s unhealthy. Clearly I’m the last hope of the family
Joffrey walks by*
Daeron (stops him and runs his hand through the hair) : Hey handsome may I buy you a cup of coffee and we talk about poetry and baby animals?
Jace: Have you been drinking enough water?
Aegon: Sometimes tears drop into my mouth
Jace: I —
Jace: Aegon, you are rude, irresponsible, nothing-prince-like, and a huge alcoholic. To be fair you are the most disappointing person I know.
Aegon: Wait until you see my cock
Jace: how many people have you slept with?
Aegon: I’ve only slept with you
Jace: you can’t be serious
Aegon: it’s true. Everyone else kept me up all night.
Jace:
Aegon talked to by Alicent:
Aegon almost in every (jacegon / aegond /dragon family) fic:
Aegon has three moods daily:
• Fuck you
• Fuck off
• Fuck me
Aemond also has three moods daily:
• Fuck Lucerys
• Fuck it’s Lucerys
• Fuck you Aegon why you didn’t tell me Lucerys is here?