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Aegon

He was nearly a hundred feet in the air before he even glanced down at the girl his brother had lain across his lap. She was awake, he knew, only temporarily paralyzed, although from the way her spine had sagged when he'd pulled her onto his dragon she'd seemed as lifeless as a corpse. His eyes flicked down to her now, not expecting anything to dispel him of his pessimistic assessment of her condition when he saw her eyes for the first time.

Those eyes. They did more than affirm her survival; they burned with a passion and an intelligence that he would scarcely have thought possible under the circumstances. He would have expected them to be wide with fear, or else filled with panicked tears as this girl, whoever she was, realized that she was in the clutches of an unknown man on the back of a dragon whose existence she probably had not believed in until a few moments ago. But fear was the last thing he saw as he gazed into her eyes. Instead they seemed to blaze with accusation and annoyance, as if he'd done something highly offensive by taking her from his brother and flying her out of the Dreadfort.

"Don't worry madam. I will take you straight to the ship my brother referenced. You have nothing to fear, all will be well. You are safe with me." He was pleased that he managed to maintain a solemn and formal tone as he spoke to her, despite the fact that with each pump of his dragon's wings they rose and fell quite significantly, causing the pits of their stomach to lurch every minute or so. The woman was unimpressed however, and seemed almost to roll her eyes at him before glaring off in the direction they were headed.

Who was this girl?

Aegon wondered if she were his brother's lover. As soon as he the thought sprang into his mind he realized that he hoped she wasn't. He found that he was desperately curious to know more about her.

Focus. He admonished himself. You are here for your brother. It's his safety you should be looking out for, not some girl's no matter what he asked of you.

His cheeks burned at the thought of having to tell Daenerys that his brother had been killed fleeing the Bolton's on foot while he had ridden off with some maiden into the sunset. She might not even be of noble blood. Seven hells, given that his brother was the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, she might not even be from Westeros. He stole another look down at her silver eyes which were glaring back at him defiantly once more.

No, it wouldn't be such a stretch to imagine that she was one of the Free Folk. She certainly would fit with the tales of their bravery that he'd heard, at any rate. And those eyes… well 'wild' certainly would be an apt way to describe them.

But she wasn't who he'd come for, and so as he saw the outline of the ship appear through the clouds he made himself urge Rhegal down to ground. As they began to descend her eyes widened and she made an attempt to raise her head, struggling against the poison. Still, she didn't look afraid as much as she seemed frustrated, and he found his heart pinching with sympathy. Without thinking, he swept her up into his arms slightly, tucking his arm underneath her head for support and pulling her against his chest, leaving only one hand on Rhegal's back to steer the descent. Not that he had much control in the matter, but it had always seemed important before.

"It's alright," he said, looking down into her eyes, and finding to his surprise that his voice came out gentle and familiar. "We are where my brother wanted you to be brought. The ship is still here. You'll be safe now."

"ARYA!"

Aegon looked up to see a beautiful woman with close cropped copper hair running towards them at full tilt, with a teen squire following in her wake. Although most of the tales had focused on her flowing locks Aegon knew that this woman could be no one other than Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister's estranged wife and the recently widowed Lady Bolton. Which must mean that the girl in his arms…

He'd been looking up at the approaching woman so he hadn't realized she'd moved until a small hand pressed against his chest. It was a weak gesture, meant only to get his attention and made near impossible by the poison still weighing down the girl's limbs, but somehow the light pressure of her hand against his chest sent jolts of electricity through his entire being. He looked down at her again to see her face screwed up with concentration and intensity, as she slowly willed her jaw into motion.

"Find. Him… Save. Jon…" she ground out, as beads of sweat began to form on her brows.

"Gods say she's not dead!" Sansa was almost upon them now and rushed to her sisters side, all but ignoring the dragon as she charged towards them. Rheal let out a hiss of protest and Aegon, who had been staring down at Arya as she attempted to speak shook himself and came back to the present.

"Rhegal, down. She's alive. Just temporarily paralyzed. It's alright. She's alright."

He slid from Rhegal's back with as much grace as he could manage, holding Arya fast in his arms. Aegon walked slowly over to Sansa and the squire who'd caught up to her (though he was decidedly more wary of Rhegal) with Arya in his arms. He peered at the squire skeptically, not entirely convinced that the young boy could manage bringing the injured woman in his arms up to ship despite her diminutive size. He was just about to declare that he would carry her aboard when her weak voice sounded once more.

"Please… Jon…"

He looked down into her eyes and saw for the first time, a shadow of fear there.

"Squire!" He barked, and the young man jolted forward, coming to stand right before him. "Take the lady aboard. See that she's tended for. I will be back to make sure." With these last words he fixed the squire with a hard look, attempting to infuse his words with as sincere a promise of retribution as possible. Most would quail under the look Aegon fixed him with but the Squire appeared to be made of sterner stuff because he nodded and gave him a deferential "yes, milord," before reaching to take Arya from him. Seeing that there was nothing more that he could justify doing without seeming to break utterly from decorum, Aegon reluctantly passed Arya's small figure over to the squire. The boy managed alright despite his youth, and after giving Arya's limp body one last look Aegon inclined his head towards the Lady Sansa in quick acknowledgement, and turned on his heel to return to Rhegal's back and his task of finding his brother. It was, after all, the only reason he had any business being here at all.

And yet as he and Rhegal launched themselves back into the air, Aegon realized that for the first time in his life he could understand how his father sacrificed everything for the love of a Stark girl.

There was nothing he wouldn't do to see love fill those silver eyes.