#aktosk

"You don't do drugs. That's a big plus for him," Aerion says, a failed attempt at humor. "Daeron's an adult, so he knows what he's doing. You too. That's why you don't do drugs."

"I'm just dealing."

Aerion rolls his eyes, and [Name] snorts. Aerion smiles, broadly, happily. Happily. The car speeds through the streets, between the skyscrapers. Soon they'll be in Manhattan. They will park, and they takes the elevator up to Aerion's apartment, which is on a damn high floor – especially for [Name], who loves standing on the balcony and admiring the view. If he were honest, he'd spent a fortune buying this apartment just to make his boyfriend happy.

Life can be funny, as his uncle used to say. Especially to Aerion's father.

"Will you be in New York long? Before you go back to England?" [Name] stretches in his seat like a cat.

"A few weeks. And I'm not going back alone." Aerion tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He presses the gas pedal. He glances quickly at [Name] before returning to the road. "You're coming, you're coming, with me."

[Name]'s eyes widen. He leans toward Aerion. "What are you talking about? I can't go with you." He laughs hysterically. Like a hyena. A frightened hyena.

"I wish you would come to Europe with me." Again, he only has a second to look at [Name]. His confused gaze, the incomprehension etched on his face like a beautiful painting. "I wish I could take you to a banquet my family is organizing."

Outside the car windows, the lights shift like a kaleidoscope. Shops, people, buildings… everything blends into a colorful mass. He also bought the car to make [Name] happy. His boyfriend—even if he's older than Aerion—deserves every luxury. If he wants to eat edible gold for the rest of his life, Aerion will grant it without question.

"You can't be serious." The disbelief in [Name]'s voice is so intense it could sit in the car with them.

"Why not?" Aerion shrugs. They approach the bridge, slowing down a bit. "He wants to formally introduce you."

"Are you crazy?" He feels [Name's] eyes on him. He's sure he's looking at him like he's an idiot right now. "Me, as your boyfriend or partner? A dealer from New York, and almost ten years older than you? What are you going to tell them? That we met when I was selling drugs to your brother? What a romantic rendezvous, our eyes meeting over the cocaine." [Name] snorts.

"This is a fucking great love story. They'll write books about us and make movies. A billionaire's son and a dealer." Aerion smiles. "I might not tell them the whole truth, but… I'll think of something. You know I love you, right?" Aerion asks seriously.

"I know," [Name] mutters, looking away. Boats float by on the river, illuminated by lights, skyscrapers dimming with lights. He has tears in his eyes, and the whole image blurs a bit. It looks beautiful. Like an impressionist painting. "I know, Aerion, I…"

"I don't care what anyone says, my father won't send you to jail. Everything will be fine."

"You think so?"

"I know. Now fasten your seatbelt."

[Name] smiles and squeals as the car accelerates. They speed through the streets, everything else passing them by like a streak of light.

A fascinating sight to a three-year-old girl who had never once seen snow but only heard about it until that day. The day after her mother's coronation. And it was that awe. That innocent fascination that forbade her from thinking of the falling snow in the middle of the summer as anything but a bad thing.

Summer snows are common in the North, but never so far south, so it should’ve been a sign, but she was only a naive child who had lived life completely cluelessly until that very day. The day her mother went missing.

Usually before breaking fast her day began with greeting her parents and then breaking fast together. Afterwards, she was taken from one lesson to another to keep her busy and learning what a three-year-old can comprehend, but that day she was barred in her chambers to suffer in a dreadful boredom that no amount of begging could save her from. She tried begging for her mother and grandfather, but she was met with, “We have to stay inside today. We’re forbidden from going out.”.

The sun never came out that day, she remembers so it was impossible for a child like herself to tell how much time had passed. All she knew was the constant prayer the caretaker kept whispering under her breath. One was for the snow to stop which was ridiculous for her to comprehend, it was snowing! It should’ve brought the caretaker joy just like it brought Aerea joy, but she prayed for it to go away. It’s a bad omen, she remembers the caretaker saying.

She never questioned why, she was too upset to question her, but she said it and in the end, she was right.

The snow clouds had reached the Reach, the land where most of the food came from, and burned the crops, leading to a food shortage later that year. The snow also killed some livestock because it kept falling and the south was unprepared and unaccustomed. It was as if they were being punished. Or at least that's what was said and she never thought of it as silly as she got older because she agreed, maybe they were being punished for never accepting…

Well, whatever it was, the snow sent the realm into a chaos that lasted for a couple of years and changed something interchangeable too.

The once vibrant colors that painted the earth grew duller since the day the snow fell and the summers grew shorter, so again she thought it was punishment.

Or at least, a part of her did because if she accepted that it was punishment then it would be like accepting that…you were gone. Not just from Westeros, but from this plane, and she doesn't want to believe that you're dead, that you were killed for simply being a woman. It’s easier to believe that you left. You took what happened to you that night as an advantage and left. There was no body after all.

People dug and dug in the snow and all they found was blood on the stone ground where you should have fallen.

Of course, Aerea doesn't remember seeing that. She was not allowed to, but she had heard it and later it was her grandfather, Maekar who told her that he tried. He tried with everyone else to look for you, but you were not to be found anywhere in the grounds of the Red Keep or in King's Landing. It’s like you disappeared into thin air from the balcony where they had found your crown, leaving nothing but memories and chaos. Pain and grief. Confusion and wander. No legacy.

They never wanted to remember you as legendary for being Queen. They mocked you for being Queen for a day, but it died off quickly because they never wanted to remember that a woman had ruled them, if even for a day.

Thus, you live only in the hearts and minds of those that you touched, but then again, those will never be eternal. You’ll be erased completely one day. Everything you were will be erased and it will be like you never existed. One day, but not now, and you especially weren’t forgotten then.

Amongst her confusion about your whereabouts, there was also fear. Not for your life, but for her father, Daeron. She remembers the day of your funeral clearly too. She was cursed with having something within her awaken and making aware, so she remembers standing between Aegon and Maekar, watching the same crowd that had been there for your coronation surround the empty wooden pyre. After all, what could it hold when your body was nowhere to be found?

Maybe that’s why she wasn’t sad that day or the days that followed because there was no one to burn. The council and the high lords had pronounced you dead after a couple of weeks of searching for you and coming out empty-handed. It was easier to claim that so everyone can move on and not get stuck on a long exhausting search. Some people were probably also eager to claim that you had died so they could put a “real ruler” on the throne, but had they forgotten about those whose lives they affected by claiming such a travesty?

Her life had yet to be touched, but what about Daeron?

She remembers seeing him those weeks that all the guards from the castle, and all the lords and their men were searching for you; he was hopeful and helpful, eager to go here and there. He searched places that his father never knew existed and places you liked to visit before you became heir. He was like she had never seen him before.

However, then came the day they stopped searching. No matter how loud he yelled to continue the search, no matter how angry he got, they didn't want to search anymore so you were declared and he was gone.

Aerea had even thought that he had left with you, that’s how long he was gone for, but then the day of the funeral came, and just before they could light the empty pyre he came stumbling in with a bottle in his hand, his clothes wrinkled and stained, his hair unkempt, and fuzz on his face.

The girl of three had been so happy to see him that she left her grandfather's side blissfully, hoping for the comfort he would give her when you were there, but when she hugged his leg it was like she didn’t even exist. He walked past her and then collapsed on the empty pyre as if he wanted to be a part of it.

That’s when her fear set in; when she saw him weeping and trying to climb the wooden pyre like a crazed man. Thus she returned to her grandfather's side and held onto him tightly, gaining the comfort she never got from her father, and feeling protected by his presence when her father started yelling.

“How dare you?!” He shouted as he stumbled off the pyre and snapped around, spilling his wine everywhere. “How dare you move on?! The pyre is empty!”

“Daeron,” Maekar barked as a warning. “Get over here.”

“No!” Daeron snapped and pointed the bottle at him. “How dare you too! We didn’t find her! She can still be out there but all of you are eager to declare her dead and for what? Huh?!” He asked the crowd as he turned to look at everyone. “To put some man who prefers sleeping with books over his own wife? How hypocritical! So I say how dare you! She’s still out there!”

Aerea remembers her heart starting to pound at his nonsense so she did the only thing that felt right and hid behind her grandfather.

“Daeron,” Maekar hissed before he pulled himself away and left the girl to Aegon to hold and hide behind, causing her to barely catch what was transcending. There were bits and pieces until her father was being pulled away by Makaer.

After that, Daeron disappeared for another long while so she was left missing him and you, hoping that someone would come to make her feel better, but you never came to brighten up her room and he…she found him eventually.

He was asleep in his chambers with one of your gowns spread beside him on the bed. It didn’t replace your warmth or your comforting presence, but she still climbed on the bed and lay on the other side to be engulfed with your scent. That's why Daeron was sleeping next to it because when she closed her eyes it was almost like you were there. Almost.

“No I know…” his slurred voice was faint at first as she regained her consciousness after she had fallen asleep.

However, no matter how clear everything became, he didn’t make sense.

“…forgive me. Please. I know your worth now, I won’t forget it anymore.”

“Papa?” She asked hoarsely as she rose up, but he didn’t seem to hear her or if he did he ignored her. He was sitting on the edge of the bed facing the open window and talking to…the chilly wind.

“I love you. Please…” he trailed off and slowly raised his arms to embrace that same cold air, causing the girl to scoot off the bed and walk towards him with fear.

“Papa?” She called again, and finally his tired eyes faced her and his arms came down.

“Your mother is here,” he claimed, but when she looked around there was no one there. She was four then and knew in her mind that something was wrong with him so she just left him alone and with Aegon still there she sought his company and felt much safer with him and the giant he called Ser Dunk.

If only he had stayed she had thought. He didn’t though. He left before Prince Aerys’ coronation and left the little girl to comfort herself when her father claimed he saw you. Which was often and always in front of an open window.

He would say how much he missed you and talk as if nothing was amiss. It was strange and terrifying to a four-year-old so she would leave him to his insanity. After a while, she stopped seeking his company altogether and went to her grandfather, the last person she had left to her, and luckily for her, he had taken it as his responsibility to raise her at Summerhall.

The only hope she had for her father was when he was told that he would remarry. Aerea was older then so she understood much more than a three and four-year-old could. Thus, she understood the travesty it was when guards said they pulled her father down from a balcony just seconds before he could jump.

He never tried to jump again after that and much to his protest, he begrudgingly married Lady Keira.

Aerea doesn't know if he stopped talking to you then. She pretended he didn’t exist when she found out he wanted to jump and leave her without a second thought. He never sought her out either. Was it because she looked like you? Amongst many others, Lord Lyonel says she did.

When Prince Maekar became King, the Lord Baratheon was so in awe of the princess that she feared that the old man was going to ask her to marry him. He didn't and she thanked the gods for that, but he did say that she looked like you.

Did he say that because it’s true or because his mind was clouded by his “feelings” towards you?

Now, Aerea can’t say she believes the rumor that started the day of your coronation when they saw how closely you danced with Lord Baratheon, but people have never let it go and he never made it easy either.

The day they burned your empty funeral pyre he was one of the last ones to leave and unlike everyone else, he laid a Lilly of the Valley amongst the roses that rested by you, so that only fueled the rumors of an affair between him and you while to others it confirmed that what they thought was true beyond a doubt.

Aerea doesn't believe them though. They’re just rumors made by bored people who live off drama, or rumors made by stupid people who say your affair was the reason you died. It was punishment for letting another man in your bed they would say.

She doesn't believe that for a minute because then they’d be punished for doing the same thing and the world would be crawling with fewer imbeciles, but it’s full of them.

A rumor that the young princess did question though was that Lord Lyonel did something to you that made you disappear. Yes, people thought that because the night of your coronation people saw you and him leave the great hall together.

It’s a ridiculous theory to her now, but she had believed it for a moment just like she believed, for a moment, that Daeron, and Maekar also had something to do with your disappearance. After all, they said that they both went after you that night too.

However, if Daeron was at fault he wouldn’t talk to the breeze in his drunken state and say that it was you. And Maekar…wouldn’t be weighed down by more grief.

The shroud of grief lay heavily over him and left him colder each time, so no, he had nothing to do with your disappearance. Just like Daeron and Lyonel didn’t either.

If only Daeron were useful enough to dream it up and know, but he couldn’t even do that. Maekar says it’s his grief, he lost a wife too and even though he was not as broken as Daeron was, he understands that grief, but what grief makes you abandon your daughter for your father and second wife to raise?

That's why to Aerea he’s simply Daeron. Not father, just Daeron. Maekar was more her father to her.

Then again he was almost too frightened to tell her things her parents were supposed to tell her.

“Aerea, I need to speak with you,” Maekar commanded more than he suggested and she knew that well. He had a hand in raising her more closely than he did his own children. Was it because he saw his dead loved ones within her dark eyes? Was it pity? Or was he trying to be like Baelor would be if he were here in his shoes? Because he knew well that his big brother would have immediately taken charge of his sweet daughter's only remaining child had he been here for your death.

So was that it?

Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was he felt it was his responsibility to talk to Aerea now like you would’ve, or like he would’ve.

“As you know you are your mother's only remaining child, and with that comes the responsibility of being heir…if that’s what you want,” he gets straight to the point, not knowing that you and Baelor would’ve warmed her up to the topic.

“I know I have not been teaching you and that fault is mine to bear, but if you want, I will make you my heir,” he says and looks to the quiet girl in search of a response, but she gives none. Her dark eyes are set ahead lost in thought.

Had she been one of his sons he would use a sharper tongue to get them to focus, but to be that way with her has never been his instinct, so he continued, knowing that a part of her attention was with him.

“I know the title and responsibility may not be appealing. It will be far from it given that you are—”

“Stop,” she suddenly blurts and finally drifts her attention to him. “I don’t want to hear it. Not from you.”

Maekar looks at her with slight shock before his face contorts. “Excuse me young lady, how dare you?”

“No,” she spats with her eyes glowering like embers. “How dare you?” She sounds just like her father did that day of the funeral, anguished by grief. “How dare you tell me the very words she’s supposed to be here to tell me herself. Or him?!”

Maekar’s own annoyance fades and pity takes hold of him as he looks in the eyes of a heartbroken daughter who cannot yet accept the truth and never mourned the father who once loved her.

“And you think I feel right telling you the dangers you’ll face becoming heir simply because you are a woman? I agree it should be your mother. She suffered through it all while your father watched her and stood by her side through it all. But,” he enunciates to make it clear to her and so she can accept the truth.

“They’re both dead. They cannot rise from the ashes and tell you that themselves.”

Aerea swallows thickly and her thick and dark eyebrows furrow deeper before she grimaces. “He’s dead, but she is not. Why do you always insist on it? And before you try to correct me, I know what I’m saying. I remember the empty pyre you burnt. I remember all of you coming out empty-handed in your search, so I am right to believe what I do and so I say how dare you tell me what she’s supposed to tell me?”

Maekar looks at her perplexed as he’s left speechless. A rare occurrence for him, he knows as does she, but what can he say in return that will make her understand and not get her angrier?

What words of comfort would Baelor tell her? How would he make her accept a truth that would make her hurt less?

Why can't he be here to talk to her? He thinks to himself. He was much better at this.

“Aerea,” he breathes out, pushing aside his frustration and cupping her shoulder. “I know I do not understand the pain your mother went through. I was with her all the time and I could never understand, but I do know what I’m saying, and if you let me I can tell you.”

Aerea’s eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t look like she’s wavering with the decision that reflects in her tormented eyes. “Well, you can save your breath. I don’t want it. They hated my mother and drove her to run away. I don’t want to always look at the faces of hatred and be doomed to repeat my mother's fate.”

“Aerea,” Maekar tries to comfort her and make her think about her decision, but she’s unwavering.

“Please don’t make me. I…am content as I am. I am content with being the wife of some lord who lives miles away from home. I am content with being remembered that way. I don’t want to live what she did, so please don’t make me.”

How could he hear the pain in her voice and force her to become something she despises?

“If that’s what you want then it is okay,” he assures her, making her let out a deep and shaky breath. “I know your mother would say the same thing.”

Beneath her denial, those words reassured her decision and let her stop wondering if she was somehow disrespecting your memory by choosing not to be heir.

“Come, you have thankfully saved me from a long conversation,” he says, making her laugh before she follows at his side.

Once she would have followed behind him like a shadow. She did it so frequently that she was known as Maekar’s little shadow, but now she’s Maekar’s sweet companion. The bliss to his anger. The calm to his agitation. The sun to his moon. The sweet to his sour and may the realm rue the day she is lost to him.

That’s why no one dares to do her any wrong or else they’ll have to face his wrath, and his wrath is a terrifying thing to behold even for an older man.

Do they fear her the same way if harm were done to him? No, but she fears for her own well-being when his day comes to take his last breath.

Daeron died and some part of her was saddened, but it passed quickly due to his lack of presence in her life after your death, but Maekar will be a different tale.

How will she deal with it? She wonders. She relied on him for so much, loved him dearly, and cherished him like she cherished her own life. His words were what she lived by…

Well except when it came to you.

His beliefs didn’t matter when it came to you because she chooses to believe. She’s been told it will drive her mad to live by her belief, but how can she not hold out hope? How can she believe that the greatest tragedy happened to you simply for your sex? Something so incredibly insignificant that it shouldn't have ever defined you.

How could she choose to believe that the lord and ladies who made up this realm were never able to accept you, believe in you, or love you like they love the ruling men who do much less and much worse than you ever did.

Of course, she can never say for herself if you were truly good. She knows only what is told to her, she doesn’t remember life with you as much as she wants to, but Maekar always said that you bore the sun. You were forgiving and sweet and too kind for your own good, so much so that even harming the tiniest of earth's creatures was a great sin to you.

You held so much goodness in every single smile, he said and she chooses to believe that which is why she can’t possibly believe that you were killed. She’s never going to believe that, just like she’s never going to forget you as much as the realm insists on erasing every single trace of you as if it were a great shame being ruled by a woman.

You were the Queen. You were kind. You were her mother, and you’re alive.

She can actually picture you living your life so clearly, and when she dreams sometimes she dreams of the life you’re having far away from all the hate, all the disrespect, and all the pressure.

You live somewhere warm where it also rains a lot so the land around you can be green and lush. You live in a manse amongst the trees where the sounds of nature are what wake you up and what lull you to sleep. You don’t live isolated, but you don’t live by a city either out of fear of being discovered by the people of this realm. You live near a town that you often visit to talk with the townsfolk and get warm fluffy bread. You enjoy the music that plays in their taverns and dance alone or with a brave man who grew the nerve to ask.

After all, Ser Duncan says that you seemed to enjoy dancing from that night you were both in Lord Baratheon's tent. Aerea doesn’t know if it’s a fact, but she likes to think that you enjoy it so she imagines you dancing until you’re out of breath and blanketed by a thin sheet of sweat.

When the night is done and you’re too exhausted to return home you stay at an inn in the town. The owner knows you well so he gives it to you at a discounted price. The catch is that you can’t say that you get such special treatment.

By morning your breakfast is ready and it’s always the same thing you order because the owner doesn’t forget.

You’re never forgotten in that town. They know the other name you live by now, and know what days you’re likely to come and when you’re going to stay home. They know when you’re feeling blue and when you’re feeling particularly gleeful.

They respect you and your wisdom, and respect the secrecy of your past although they know that you are far more than a common-born girl. Your eyes, those amethyst eyes she remembers like the back of her hand are part of the giveaway, but it’s also in the way you speak so properly, the fancy way you carry yourself, the money that never lacks, the gentle way you are with children, and the sorrow you carry and have carried since you got there.

That all tells them pieces of a story that no one will ever put together. Not even the nice and handsome man you met one day when you were adventurous and traveled out to the city.

Yes, in the life Aerea pictures of you, she also sees a very tall and handsome man with a soft dark brown complexion and with dark and warm eyes that melt your heart at first glance.

He was nothing like Daeron was. He isn’t a drunk who leaves for days and comes back dirty and poor. He’s not picture perfect either, he has his past that left a clue in a long scar across his face. He carries his grievances, but you don't judge him for it. You bond over the complicated past and find yourselves tethered together by your similarities and differences. So much so that he, like you, are each other's last love. Neither of you can imagine being with anyone else and you’re both content with that just like you’re content with the secrets you keep locked away, leaving little mysteries to each other that neither of you touch. You’re respectful that way and he is too and it makes Aerea happy that you could find someone so goodhearted and kind. Someone who understands and doesn’t judge.

You deserve it just as much as you deserve that peaceful life, freedom, and a home somewhere so far away and beautiful that you’ll never get tired of painting it. Even if it is far away from her, even if you’ll never meet again, and even though she can never etch your face to memory.

You’ll always be a faceless figure in her mind that she knows she loves and will always miss, but not grieve and say goodbye to. Not until she knows that you’re old and wrinkled and lived a good life because she has to believe that you’re alive and happy.

You’re not forgotten in an unmarked grave. You are alive. You’re not the breeze that brushes over her face. You're not the ache sitting heavy over her heart. You’re not the black and silver dragonfly that lands on her hand. You got away. You’re happy and thriving.

You’re alive and Aerea will always live by that. She will live by that belief no matter what anyone says or believes.

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A/N- I believe