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A shriek from Alicent has Rhaenyra crumbling to the floor in laughter. "Rhaenyra!" Alicent shouts at her, brow furrowing. She glances from the giggling princess to the spiked helm on the bedside table.
The dragon wings on the helm had cast shadows on to the wall, large ones, thanks to the fire roaring across the room. Alicent huffs, foot stomping.
"It's not funny, Nyra!" Alicent tells her, bottom lip puckering as she crosses her arms. The nanny appears in the doorway. Her shoulders sag as she takes in the room.
"Princess, if you cannot treat your guest with respect, Lady Alicent will have to return to the Tower of the Hand instead of staying with you," her nanny warns and Rhaenyra pops up from the floor with a gasp, eyes wide.
Rushing forward, the young girl embraces her friend, "No! I'm sorry, Ali! It was just a prank! I'd never let a dragon hurt you." Alicent huffs, arms wrapping around the princess. "Syrax and I will protect you, I promise."
Pulling back from her hug, Rhaenyra smiles broadly at her friend. Violet eyes dancing in the firelight. Alicent shivers.
"Syrax is almost big enough to ride, Ali!" Rhaenyra giggles, hands clasping Alicent's. Her nanny shakes her head and leaves. Rhaenyra drops her voice to a whisper, "One day, she'll be as big as Caraxes! And then we'll fly off to visit Essos together!"
"But my father says there are slavers in Essos," Alicent frowns at her, forehead creasing with worry as she bites at her bottom lip, "He says Essos is too dangerous for proper young ladies."
Rhaenyra scoffs, "We'll have Syrax! Nothing can happen to us if we have a dragon with us, Alicent." She squeezes Alicent tight, "Maybe we'll have two even! Mother is pregnant again, that's why I wanted to practice my pranks. So I'll be ready when my new sibling arrives."
"My older brothers never prank me, Nyra," Alicent says quietly, but she smiles softly as Rhaenyra tugs her towards the bed.
They settle beneath the covers, Rhaenyra taking extra care to smooth out the blankets over Alicent as her friend curls up on the bed. She picks up the helm from the table and sets it on the floor.
"I borrowed it from my uncle," Rhaenyra winks at her. She giggles, sinking into the bed beside her. "I need more practice still, what color shall I paint it before I return the helm to his rooms, do you think?"
"Hmm," Alicent moves closer to pillow her head on Rhaenyra's shoulder. Her lips twist into a bright grin, "Oh! Green! Like the Hightower!" She laughs quietly, smothering herself in Rhaenyra's nightdress before whispering, "It's my favorite color."
With a sharp nod, Rhaenyra stares up at the ceiling, "I'm going to be the best big sister." Her smile is soft. Her gaze trembling. "I'll make them laugh all the time. And I'll know all their favorites, so I can sneak them treats."
"You have to look out for them too," Alicent mumbles, lashes fluttering, "That's what my brothers told me, when mother had Gwayne. He's my only little brother, so it's my job to look out for him."
"But Gwayne is going to be a knight," Rhaenyra's nose scrunched up. Alicent chuckles. She nods, cheek rubbing against Rhaenyra's shoulder.
"There's lots of ways to look out for people, Nyra." Alicent explains quietly, sitting up, "Like for me, I'm a girl, so my father says my brothers must all be vigilante, to protect me from any harm or shame. Even Gwayne."
Rhaenyra nods, "My father says that's what my uncle is for. Him and Dark Sister. I think if the baby is a boy, he might be too little for that."
Shaking her head, Alicent frowns, "No. Duty is forever, father says, and our first duty is always to family." She smiles softly, head tilting as she looks down at Rhaenyra, "That's why I sing the Song of the Seven to Gwayne when he has nightmares, and I read to him some nights, like my mother."
"I think I'd like to teach them Valyrian," Rhaenyra tells her as Alicent settles back beside her. "All the songs my uncle sings too, or at least the nice ones." They drift off, quietly murmuring to one another. All the ideas, everything Rhaenyra will be able to do soon, when she's finally a big sister.
-.-.-
Alicent stops short when she sees the wooden dragon on the bedside table. Blinking slowly, one hand cupped under her bulging stomach, she approaches it.
"Excuse me," Alicent calls out to a passing maid. They bow low, eyes even lower, and she flushes. "Do you know where this came from?" They shake their head. The other three servants she asks say the same.
With a soft smile, Alicent traces a finger down the dragon's back. The baby in her belly kicks. Her lashes flutter, tears clinging to them as she picks the dragon toy up.
It is not stonework like the king's model, the details not as intricate. Care was clearly taken to carve it true to scale, however, with large wings and a long neck. The edges are all sanded down. Curved and soft. Safe.
"You have been given a gift, my little dragon," Alicent whispers to her bump, laughing to herself as she places the toy back on her table.
When Aegon is born, no egg is placed in his cradle. Only Targaryen mothers are allowed that tradition, those with mounts all their own. Syrax and the unhatched egg for Baelon had both come from clutches delivered by Tessarion.
Queen Aemma's dragon provided the Dragon Pit with no shortage of eggs, even though so few made it to a cradle. The Small Council had discussed whether an exception ought to be made, for the children of a king. A discussion Viserys had shut down quickly.
It sends a shock right up her spine then, when Alicent finds Aegon curled around a dark shape in his cradle. She glances around, eyes wide, when she lights a candle to discover the golden egg lying beside her son.
"What is this?" Alicent presses a hand to the egg. It is warm, but not living. Textured, but not rough. Not a dragon egg. Not a real one. But her son curls around it all the same. Quiet for the first time since his birth.
"Ah! It's a warming egg, the dragonkeepers use them to help maintain the heat for a clutch, once they remove them from the nesting dragon's lair," Viserys explains to her when Alicent asks him. He chuckles, "I suppose the boy was cold. An ingenious solution, really, who thought of it?"
"No one has come forward, your grace," Alicent says, but her head turns, seeking out Rhaenyra's gaze across the table. She does not speak, hardly even looks at her, but Alicent inclines her head, smiling. "I am truly appreciative though, whoever they are. It is blessing, to know my son is well looked after."
The warming egg returns for Helaena, though it is less effective. Alicent spends as much of her third pregnancy as she can in the Godswood, one of the few places her daughter will sleep.
Aegon runs about, wooden dragon in hand, and returns to her with new words on his lips. Valyrian words. And songs. Alicent recognizes their tunes and listens aptly as Aegon butchers them with his stumbling voice.
When Aemond comes, he is early, and Rhaenyra is on Dragonstone, pregnant with her own child. Alicent spends several weeks confined to a bed. Her little boy does not cry though, and it worries her. Alicent's nails are a bloodied mess and the midwife convinces the maester to bring Aemond into her room.
This warming egg is different. Not golden, for Aegon has claimed that one as his and sleeps with it still. It is a dark blue, a deep blue that matches her younger son's startlingly bright eyes.
Alicent sobs, cradling her babe and his fake egg to her chest. She waves off the midwife's concern. She is not surprised, a year later, when she emerges from her feverish weeks in the birthing bed to find her youngest wrapped around an egg. She is simply grateful. Grateful her children have a big sister looking out for them.
She is significantly less grateful for the tiny hatchling who spreads his wings wide when she enters Aegon's room some months later. Alicent screeches and her son falls to the ground, laughing.
"Mama! It's just Sunfyre!" Aegon cackles, legs kicking out as Sunfyre flaps his wings, sitting perched on the mantle. Alicent holds a hand to her chest, breathing deeply.
The helm had been less terrifying. Even when Daemon had stomped around, furious, after he'd discovered its new paint job.
Alicent stands up, shoulders back, and her son quiets. Eyes wide as she reprimands him, "If you and Sunfyre cannot behave respectfully, he will have to return to the Dragon Pit, Aegon."
"No! I'm sorry Mama! It was just a joke!" Aegon whines, clutching Sunfyre to his chest, truly stricken, "Sunfyre would never hurt you, Mama! We're going to protect you!"
Her chest tightens. Alicent falters, tears collecting on her lashes. She nods sharply, "I know, my sweet." Alicent crouches and her son approaches, pout on his lips that has her heart beating faster.
"Sunfyre won't be small for long, Mama," Aegon reminds her, brows low as he looks at her, eyes pleading, "Soon he'll be so big he *has* to stay in the pit. Please don't send him away."
"Alright," Alicent presses a hand to his chest. She smiles, clipping his chin up, "But he is your responsibility. You have to look out for him, keep him out of trouble."
Aegon groans, head lulling back, "You mean like I do Helaena? And Aemond? And Daeron?" He stomps his foot. "Why do I have to look out for everyone?! I just want to play with Sunfyre!"
Laughing, Alicent ducks her head. She swallows, blinking away tears. "Because, you're their big brother, it's your duty." He puckers his lips. Shoulders sag as he heaves a sigh.
"I suppose," Aegon agrees, rocking back on his heels. Sunfyre gives a muted roar, head thrown back. Her son smirks, perking up as he preens beneath his dragon's attention, "Sunfyre will help me. Nothing bad can happen to us, Mama, not when we have a dragon with us!"