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She returns from her home country of Dorne after three weeks' time. It's a reprieve from the tense air that always seems to linger at King's Landing. A couple of days under the sun replenishes the warmth King's Landing has sapped from her skin and she looks at the shore some meters over the side of one of her father's ships forlornly. The only magnet bringing her back is Aegon, which is foolish. She's sure he's gone through all of the kitchen wenches by now.
The notion has no right to bother her. She hadn't been so chaste herself, but jealousy is not a just thing. Their exclusivity was never discussed and Aegon wasn't one to liberally express his feelings unless he was a few cups deep; which makes his words unreliable anyhow.
She learns this when he stumbles into her quarters late the night before she was set to depart. He had wine on his breath and a flush on his cheeks, he saw nothing but her, the rest of the room spun, and it was dark anyway.
He'd kiss her shock away and pull her into a crushing embrace, his strength is always surprising.
Kisses under her jaw lull her back to sleep, he doesn't try anything past pressing against her back and pulling his arm beneath her breasts to keep her close. He needs the proximity, she's found. Before she falls into the oblivion of sleep, Aegon mutters weighty words to the top of her head where his nose is dug in.
"I love you."
In the morning he is still there, sleeping soundly. He removed his tunic as the sun made him warm while it rose.
She allows him to sleep off the pounding in his head while she readies to head to the ports, trying not to think much of her paramour's confession.
Still, Aegon came to mind, even under the relief of her native sun, he was there, burning her skin just the same. A sigh leaves her and she lays back on the steps at the bow of the ship, letting the gentle rock of the boat clear her mind.
Aegon wrestles with his frustrations just as he does with his dick, finding he's played with himself more in the past weeks than usual. It's never enough, not without her, he finds himself spilling onto his stomach with a dissatisfied groan more often than not. This being said he hasn't taken anyone to bed since her departure, actually since sometime before.
He found himself only thinking of her the few last times he had. It eats at him perpetually.
Today, she returns home, and the guilty ache of not having been able to see her off washes over him. Of course, he wouldn't be dependable to wake up, but he remembers all he said that night. The salt in the wound is that she probably will shrug it off. Aegon realizes he's reaping what he sows, and he planted seeds of a bad reputation very early on in his suffocating life.
She arrives close to noon. Aegon only finds comfort in rotting in bed if he can't see her. His mother had confined him to his room for whatever misconduct but after a week of his lover's absence he preferred the reclusion. Alicent pretends not to notice, he sulks and laments plenty, but he isn't now. He's just blatantly miserable. Her maternal side is suffering, so she affords her son this kindness.
The Queen breathes deeply before knocking on her son's door. An immediate "Go away." is not out of the ordinary.
"Aegon," her voice is soft.
"Would you like to see your friend? She's....she's just docked."
The Prince looks to the door, skeptical, but his mother wouldn't do something so cruel, he hopes. He doesn't rise, just tells her to come in.
He turns to give the door, his mother, his back.
The bed dipping indicates Alicent sitting and he waits for her to speak.
"Can I get an answer?" Her voice is assertive but still carries the worry of a mother.
"I'll seek her later."
Alicent raises a brow. She didn't like that answer, not from Aegon.
"You'll see her now or in a week when your confinement is done."
Aegon doesn't like her answer either, but he doesn't vocalize it. There's a pause and Alicent has to close her eyes in repressed shock when Aegon tears off his sheets forcefully, standing and walking towards his wardrobe, with a lazy wide gait. She sighs seeing her son's adult ass for the umpteenth time; it's enough to make her stand and turn to leave.
"I'll wait for you. Ser Criston will escort us." She pulls the door open, leaving her son to get dressed. She feels her left under-eye palpitate after Aegon takes the last word.
"Don't!" He cuts, glancing back at her retreating figure. He dresses simply and opens the door to find his mother did not appease his request.
His lips press into a straight line and he stays a few paces behind them, walking slower, lost in the ceilings he's been looking at his whole life, not gaining or losing any opinions. His mind blanks until their footsteps make the wood of the port deck creak.
There are crowds of welcoming parties and dock workers alike but Aegon only looks for one specific person. The sun hurts his eyes after so many days inside, he brings his hand up to shield them from the brightness, and that's when he sees her.
The Prince doesn't mind his mother or Ser Criston, who is told to stand down when he takes his leave. Alicent watches on, internal strife indicated by her furrowed brow and tight lip. She turns away to begin retreating to the Keep. If she doesn't witness anything, she can't be certain it happened.
Aegon starts towards her slowly, his feet carry him quicker than he could think, and his mind is blank again. That is until she sees him, and the noise of the bustling port floods him where he stands a few feet away, overwhelming, and his throat dries. Her smile makes his chest ache and she takes a moment to guide the cargo handlers where to place her things before she turns to go to him.
He's stock still and wordless, and she must admit he doesn't look his best. But his melancholy is palpable and she deems it unfair to tease him about his state. Instead, she takes hold of an unknowingly clenched fist and kisses the rings he wears daily. It's delicate and chaste, it makes Aegon laugh weakly through his nose, humorless. She places a hand over his white knuckles and he follows her hand up to her arms, and neck. Blue eyes graze every inch of skin exposed to bear the heat of her travels but not her face, he can't now. She's golden to him; priceless, precious, and rare.
"Welcome back."
His voice hoarsely cracks from lack of use, his chin is to his chest and his curls obscure his face. She squeezes his fingers and dips her head to search for his eyes. She says his name and his eyes snap to her, it's by choice when she ignores the gloss forming over his eyes, and the tears threatening to spill on his water line. Instead, she whispers what she'd been wanting to say for the past three weeks.
Aegon can't stop the tears from falling or his nose from dripping and he crumples into her shoulder, he sobs once and sniffles through shuddering breaths until he hides his pitiful state into her neck. Her hand holds his head to her and she closes her eyes to help the moment pass.
"I missed you, my love."