Chapter Text
“This is a great honour.” His mother told him the day he departed from King’s Landing. “No Targaryen has ever wed a Stark. Your union with Cregan Stark will be the first.”
Aegon did not know how it could be considered an honour . Many families in Westeros never had the opportunity to wed a Targaryen; if anything, it was more of a privilege for the Stark’s. If Aegon did his duty, there would be dragons in the far north, and that was nothing to look down upon.
In the years that followed Aegon’s presentation as an omega, his future marriage was the debate of many discussions within his family. The Lannister’s were considered, as were the Tully’s of Riverrun. For his mother and grandfather however, his marriage needed to be beneficial for Aemond, who was now next in line for the throne, and thus, Cregan Stark was chosen. The North was powerful and their armies even greater.
Not for the first time did Aegon wish he were still betrothed to Helaena, her strangeness aside. At least he would be able to stay in King’s Landing, free to continue the life he had been leading, but two omega’s could not marry, and now Helaena was to be Aemond’s bride. He could still recall the air of smug satisfaction coming from his younger brother when they were told about this new development. Aegon had resisted the urge to hit him.
“Try not to disappoint us.” Alicent said, and Aegon grimaced at those words. All the eldest son of King Viserys did was disappoint his family.
“Sister,” Uncle Gwayne admonished. There were many days when Aegon believed Gwayne Hightower was the only person who truly loved him. Maybe it was because Gwayne never saw the worst of him, Aegon did not know. When Aegon was told Gwayne would be accompanying him to Winterfell, he felt some relief in that.
At Gwayne’s interruption, Alicent looked slightly admonished and gently pulled her eldest boy into a hug.
Aegon had relished in the warmth of his mother’s arms before she let him go and he stepped into the carriage. In his final moments, he looked at Helaena and Aemond, and while Helaena smiled at him warmly, Aemond wore a smirk upon his face. Aegon knew his brother was happy to finally be rid of the stain on House Targaryen. In Aemond’s eyes, he had won. He received everything he wanted - the throne, Helaena, and Aegon leaving.
He turned away from his family and moved to the furthest corner of the carriage, his eyes tracing the lone figure of Sunfyre. His beautiful boy would be following them to Winterfell and Aegon let himself be content with the fact that he would not truly be alone in the cold and bitterness of the North.
Many said an omega was meant to smile when they were to be married, but Aegon felt he would never smile again.
A chill had sunken deep within Aegon’s bones and he shivered even under the blanket he placed around himself. Although the prince was cold, he wished he was riding beside his uncle instead. Gwayne was charming and interesting, funnier than most people he knew. If he was with Gwayne, at least he would not feel so abandoned.
Time seemed to drift in the small carriage taking him to his fate and even the presence of his companions did not make the distance to Winterfell quicken. Since they passed through The Neck, all Aegon saw was snow.
“Isn’t it supposed to be summer?” Aegon said suddenly, his companions silencing their conversation. “Why is there snow?”
“It always snows in the North, my prince.” The youngest of his companions, Aeron Bracken, replied.
“Seems dreadful,” Cerella Lannister responded, looking outside of the carriage in dismay. The golden haired girl was as arrogant and as proud as her father. He could hear Sunfyre’s soft trills in the distance, though he did not know where his dragon was.
“It’s not so bad,” Aeron said, glancing at Cerella from the corner of his eye. The young omega disliked Cerella as much as Aegon did. “There’s something magical about it, I think.”
“Yes, if you like the cold and savages.” The girl responded. It was clear she did not think highly of the North, or its people. Aegon wondered if she would be able to curb her tongue around Cregan Stark. He could not bring himself to care either way.
“Why are you here if you are only going to complain?” Aeron snapped, startling Cerella.
The words surprised Aegon so greatly that he turned to watch the interaction more clearly. It was not something the prince expected to hear from him. Although Aeron was polite and mild-mannered, there was a little fire in him, too.
Despite himself, Aegon smiled a little. Of his companions, Aegon supposed he liked Aeron Bracken the best. They had only met a few weeks prior when travelling through Riverrun, stopping only to collect Aeron, an omega of four and ten name days. The boy had spent his whole life training to be a knight, even squiring for his uncle, Raylon Rivers, but his presentation halted that. Now, Aeron would be forced to trade in his sword for a needle.
Aegon pitied him greatly for that.
Silence descended in the carriage and the silver haired prince looked back through the window. There seemed to be nothing for miles, except for the cold and snow and the cold. As much as he disliked Cerella, she was right about the North. There was nothing magical about this place and the vast plains seemed as lonely as Aegon felt in that moment.
Aegon hated the North already.