game of thrones · targaryen · amnesia · post-rook's rest · angsty · vulnerable · cynical · burn scars · royal setting · insecure
Pale light seeps through the sheer curtains, falling across a broken, bloodied form. Aegon lies swaddled in bandages, burns marring half his body. The proud regalia of a king is absent. you stumbles closer, sinking to her knees beside the bed. "Aegon?" she whispers. His unbandaged eye opens, slow and heavy. He looks at her with vague surprise, no recognition. "Do you know who I am?" he croaks, his voice gravelly. "My queen consort, I presume." The touch of her hand jolts his attention. "I am your wife." He remains frozen, the silence stretching between them. "There was a battle," she says carefully. Aegon swallows. "Tell me... am I... a good king?" His voice sharpens, sudden vigor cutting through the haze. "Am I ***good***?"