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Chapter Text

It had not been a certainty that Aegon would have a soulmate. He had Valyrian blood, sure, but that didn't guarantee anything. The maester in the Red Keep had said his mother being a Hightower made it likely no mark would appear on his skin while he was growing up. Aegon was well aware that there was at least one person with two Targaryen parents - the king himself, no less! - with no mark.

He hadn't put much stock in the maester's words. He'd been excited. Who doesn't want a soulmate after all? Perhaps it would even halt his mother's plan to marry him to Helaena.

On the morning of his sixteenth nameday, Aegon wished the maester had been right.

It was a dragon, a green one, coiled around a black and red seahorse. Aegon stared at it for longer than he needed to. A sinking feeling twisting in his gut.

Jacaerys. Of course, it was Jacaerys. There were only three options really, and that was just if he counted himself as the green dragon. He knew better. He'd seen Vermax enough to know that the color now staining his forearm was not the green of House Hightower.

His mother would be furious.

She could never know. Visions of being dragged to the sept with Helaena flashed in his mind.

Aegon didn't mind that his soulmate was a man. Oddly, that didn't surprise him. Even the fact that it was his nephew settled in his chest quite easily.

"Rhaenyra's son?" Aegon whispered to the ceiling, eyes squeezing shut as he sprawled across his bed. "Must the gods mock me?"

The answer, as always, was yes.

A knock at the door had Aegon grabbing for a shirt. A doublet. Anything. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, folding his arms in to the edges to hide his forearm before Ser Harrold entered, "King Viserys would like a word?"

"Now?!" Aegon arched a brow, eyes wide and voice cracking. He bit at his lip as the knight surveyed him. His father swept into the room.

"Yes, now," Viserys grinned at him and Aegon startled, the blanket slipped down his shoulders. He gripped the edges tightly and his father's gaze dropped to his arms, "A mark appeared then."

Of course that was why he was here.

The marks were a Valyrian custom, some magic left over from the Doom. His father wasn't here for him, would never come to his chambers. Not even for his nameday.

"Let's see it then," Viserys stepped forward. He crossed the room and Aegon tensed.

"Do I have to?" Aegon choked out.

The king paused. He looked back at his knight and with a nod the man was dismissed. Viserys turned a soft smile on his eldest son, almost pitying, "Is it someone you wish it wasn't?"

No. That answer had his brain rushing right in to a wall. Everything stopped. Aegon shook as it washed over him.

He wanted Jace as his soulmate.

"It's... a man," Aegon admitted, eyes fluttering. He swallowed thickly and watched Viserys through his lashes.

His father didn't wrinkle his nose. He didn't even blink.

Viserys laughed, "You wouldn't be the first Valyrian man to... mate, with another. Dragonriders have even been know to carry children, on occassion. I'm certain there's something in Dragonstone's libraries about it, should that be necessary."

Dragonstone. Jace was on Dragonstone. It would be his seat, eventually. The same seat his grandfather believed should be his. Aegon whimpered.

The sound snuck out and Viserys frowned. He reached for Aegon's arms, yanking them away from his body. The blanket fell.

"Oh," Viserys straightened. His eyes flickered over Aegon's shaking form before falling back to the mark. His lips twitched up and Aegon's gut twisted. "This is good news. The two of you can join our two houses, put an end to all this squabblin-"

"Please don't tell him!" The words tumbled out, followed very quickly by even more that Aegon didn't bother to think before speaking. "Jace is only two and ten. I don't want to force him in to some betrothal. I don't want to be some obligation. He'll hate me, be disgusted. Mother will be furious. And Rhaenyra-"

"Calm down," Viserys said firmly, taking hold of both his shoulders, squeezing. Aegon went silent. Eyes still wide, chest rising with deep breaths.

This was probably the longest he'd been alone with his father since... possibly ever. Aegon certainly couldn't remember another instance.

It wasn't quite comforting, but the king cupped his cheek lightly, "It can remain between us, for the time being, my boy, until Jacaerys comes into his own mark."

The lines on his father's face were pulled taut as he smiled. His hand tapped gently at Aegon's cheek before he pulled away. With a sigh, the king reached for a shirt thrown haphazardly over a chair and handed it to Aegon.

"Keep it covered. Speak of it to no one but me. Not even a maester. If it's to remain a secret, it must be wholly secret." Viserys leveled his gaze and Aegon nodded, pulling the cloth over his head. "It's been three years since your sister departed for Dragonstone. I would have our family reunited, even if not for your betrothal."

Aegon swallowed, his throat dry, "Yes, your grace." The king departed as quickly as he came. Even hobbling with his cane.

As soon as he was gone, Aegon called for a servant. Wine. He needed wine. His gaze fell to his covered forearm. A hint of the mark was still visible, through the thin fabric.

"Bring me a scarf," Aegon called after them, "Some long fabric, anything, just make sure it's black."

Chapter Text

The king had sent word to Rhaenyra of his desire to see her and her brood of Velaryon-Targaryens. She hadn't yet responded, as far as Aegon knew.

He was visiting with Sunfyre, hiding from his mother and the maester, when six dragons descended on the Dragon Pit. Aegon cursed under his breath. Pressing his face in to Sunfyre's scales, he took a deep breath. Focused on the heat from his dragon against his cold skin.

It had been three years since he'd seen his sister and her family. Three years since he'd seen his nephew. Three years since he'd said everyone knew they were bastards...

This was not a reunion Aegon was excited for. Or looking forward to. Or at all wanted to deal with.

Nope. No. He just wanted to go flying.

"Aegon?" It was a decidedly feminine voice that called out to him above the various screeching dragons as keepers approached them en mass.

He turned around to find that his sister had stopped a respectful distance away. Her eyes were on Sunfyre, who was tensed and quiet, though Aegon could feel the rumble of a growl developing in his chest. He didn't notice that. His brain was very busy noticing the more pressing issue before him.

"You're pregnant," Aegon blinked, body stiff as he gaped, openly, at her stomach. His eyes had snapped directly to where her hands lay, clasped over the round bump protruding from her dress. She flushed and he coughed, head turning away, "Right. Sorry. Wait. No, congratulations?"

Rhaenyra laughed as he stumbled over his words and Aegon groaned, eyes squeezing shut. She took two steps forward and Sunfyre coiled around him. The growl rose up from his chest.

"Stop that," Aegon huffed, glaring up at his dragon. Sunfyre sniffed. He raised a brow and the golden beast settled. Somewhat. He remained coiled around Aegon, but his head lowered, growling silenced. For now.

His sister was staring at him now, which was not a reversal he enjoyed. "Are you alright?" Rhaenyra asked softly. Aegon stiffened. She tilted her head, but didn't step closer, "Our dragons know how we're feeling better than we do sometimes."

Sunfyre was a snitch, this was true. He'd nearly roasted Otto alive the one time the man had come to the Dragon Pit to collect Aegon after their return from Driftmark. Now the Hand just sent Aemond.

Or Helaena, which was worse.

It was very difficult to be rude to his sister when she didn't even notice half the time and looked entirely dejected when she did. Betrothal aside, he didn't want to upset her.

"Aegon?" Rhaenyra cleared her throat and he startled. Throat bobbing, he focused back on her. She no longer stood alone.

"Would you like to return to the Red Keep with us?" Daemon asked, repeating himself probably, given the way he enunciated his words. Lips curled and shoulders rolled back as Daemon waited for his response. Rhaenyra sighed, eyes going up as she muttered something he couldn't hear.

Ah. She'd pushed him to ask then. An apparent olive branch from the man carrying Valyrian steel. That was a hard pass for Aegon.

Sunfyre tittered, nostrils flaring and Aegon shook his head, "No, thank you."

There was a snort from behind Daemon as the children came to stand with their parents. Jacaerys was grinning, fidgeting even as he crossed his arms.

"Are you still using Sunfyre to ditch lessons, uncle?"

"It's not ditching!" Aegon whined on instinct. He gestured up at Sunfyre, who preened, "I'm simply focusing on my dragonriding skills today."

Jacaerys snickered and Daemon's eldest girl joined him. Aegon flushed as the two exchanged a look. Their younger siblings, even Lucerys, were eyeing him carefully. Aegon turned, angling himself towards Sunfyre as he avoided their gazes.

Rhaenyra shook her head, hand rubbing absently at her stomach, "I hope to see you later then, little brother."

Ah. An order. He recognized those when he heard them.

So. She wanted to speak with him? His right hand twitched towards his left forearm as they departed. Rhaenyra lingered, tracking his movements.

Aegon sunk back in to Sunfyre, fingers tugging at the knot around his wrist. It was secure, the fabric wrapped tightly around his skin beneath his shirt and doublet.

She couldn't know. His father had promised. His throat bobbed, chest tight. Rhaenyra was gone now, but Aegon felt the weight of her gaze on his arm.

When had the king ever prioritized Aegon over his heir? She'd probably just have to ask and Viserys would tell her everything. About the mark, about his desire to hide it.

Would Rhaenyra think him ashamed? Jacaerys was smart, and kind. He'd be handsome too, when he was older. That was obvious. The future king. The one Westeros deserved.

Why would Aegon want to hide his soulmark when it led to someone like that?

She'd be furious, rightfully so really.

He was hardly a good match. Foolish. A drunk. He had nothing to offer anyone, except Rhaenyra, and only as a challenge to her throne. Aegon knew his worth. He was more useful to everyone dead than alive.

Sunfyre screeched and Aegon gasped, eyes squeezing shut as his dragon nudged at his side. Pulling him from his thoughts. Aegon took another breath. He checked the fabric around his forearm again. The knot at his wrist was still secure. He tucked it back beneath his doublet. They were both black. It was easier to hide his mark that way.

The bright colors could shine through anything else. Even when he wore multiple layers, which he always did now.

"Let's go flying, eh boy?" Aegon sighed, climbing in to Sunfyre's sadle and sinking in to the warmth of his only friend. He was safe with Sunfyre. Nothing could harm him, perched on his dragon, his fire churning within.

They took to the sky, Sunfyre letting loose a roar as they looped around the Red Keep. Once they were over the Blackwater, Aegon closed his eyes. He tucked his arm close to his chest and pressed his face into blazing scales.

With another roar, Sunfyre let loose a burst of flames and they flew through it.

Aegon wanted to feel the fire. The heat. The warmth. A sob escaped his lips. Shuddering, he clung to Sunfyre as the dragon spread his wings wide and they soared through the air.

Hours later, smelling faintly of smoke and hair slightly singed, Aegon shivered as his brother dragged him from the pit. Aemond was muttering about baths and dinners. Aegon ignored him.

Chapter Text

The dinner Aemond had been muttering about was apparently a proper feast, to welcome Rhaenyra and her family. It was relatively lowkey, for the king anyway. Though the whole of court had turned up, it was not enough of a crowd to hide the fact that Rhaenyra and Daemon's children had been sat at one table and the rest of them at another.

"You're to avoid your nephews and Daemon's girls," Otto told them all, looking pointedly at Aemond, "Do not seek them out."

"I didn't 'seek them out' at Driftmark," Aemond huffed. He stabbed at his food, ignoring Otto's narrowed eyes.

Aegon reached for his wine. The food was good, but it held nothing for him. He shoved his plate away and threw his head back to empty his goblet. A passing servant refilled the cup when he held it up.

"And you," Otto drawled, turning to Aegon. He sat opposite him, beside Helaena - the only grandchild he ever bothered to smile at. For Aegon, there was only ever scowls. "Do not embarrass yourself, or this family, by drinking yourself stupid."

There was no point in responding. The Hand of the King was to be listened to without question. Aemond's grumbling had likely earned him an extra hour in the training yard tomorrow, or with the maesters.

"Yes, grandfather," Aegon agreed, sipping at his wine and sinking back in his seat.

Not so subtle hints to dance with Helaena were ignored. Aemond elbowed him twice. Otto made remarks about the music while looking pointedly at Aegon. He pretended not to notice

"Princess Helaena?" They all looked at Jacaerys with fluttering eyes as he stood beside the table, offering Helaena his hand, "Would you care to dance?"

Her smile was brilliant, practically beaming as he led her out on to the floor. Beside him, Aemond grumbled, watching their nephew with a scowl as he danced with Helaena.

"You do realize you could have offered to dance with her?" Aegon drawled, head rolling to the side. He drank heavily from his goblet now that their grandfather was distracted.

The man was actually smiling, applauding even, as Helaena spun around the floor with Jacaerys.

"You're the one betrothed to her," Aemond snapped back, arms crossing. He huffed and Aegon hummed.

Waving a hand dismissively, Aegon sunk lower in his seat, "For now maybe."

"What?" Otto's head snapped around, eyes wide in a proper sneer, "You will marry Helaena, Aegon, sooner rather than later."

Aegon swallowed thickly, eyes squeezing shut. He didn't respond. He ignored the heavy gazes on him, looking down at his now empty cup. Otto and Aemond would soon return their attention to Helaena. He could hear her light laughter over the din of the room.

His sister was a proper lady. Respectable. Beautiful. She'd make a good wife to someone, anyone but him really. She had her quirks - her obsession with bugs, her cryptic mumblings.

Jacaerys wouldn't mind them. He'd likely find them endearing. Given the future king had waited until the dance floor was relatively empty before approaching Helaena, Jacaerys was already aware of her aversion to touch.

"You should slow down," Aemond whispered sharply as Aegon held up his goblet for another refill.

The twisting in his gut said otherwise.

"I should speed up," Aegon bit back, taking a slow breath and gesturing for the servant to leave the pitcher on the table. They did so. Otto frowned at him.

Aegon decided he prefered to deal with whatever punishment the Hand would dole out for his insolence later rather than the chill rising up his chest.

He was cold. The alcohol warmed him.

"Leave me be, little brother," Aegon shoved off Aemond's hands when his brother tried to take his goblet. Aemond scoffed as Aegon reached for the pitcher in turn.

Drowning himself in wine was the closest he could get to proper comfort right now. He'd rather be with Sunfyre. Or in a brothel. His bedchamber even.

Jacaerys' laughter rang out, followed by a giggle from Helaena. Aegon downed his cup. This dinner was taking far too long.

Silence fell as Viserys stood from his seat at the dais. Only three people sat with him. His mother looked practically stricken - eyes wide and mouth pursed tight. Rhaenyra was smiling. That enough was a bit worrying.

Daemon was smirking.

"Tonight has been an absolute joy. Nothing brings me greater happiness than to see my family all together," Viserys gestured wide, one hand waving towards the table of Rhaenyra and Daemon's four older children while the other pointed towards their table.

Aegon swallowed thickly as his father's eyes sparkled. His smile was wide, a proper grin as he brought his hands together, clasping them tight.

"In furthering that happiness, I am excited to announce that the Princess Rhaenyra and her husband, Prince Daemon, will be returning to court."

Their grandfather stiffened. Aemond stiffened. Aegon sunk further in to his seat, eyes on the ceiling. A pounding started in his chest, his heart beating directly in his ear.

The king wasn't done. Not yet. He waited for the whispers to silence themselves.

"In the near future, our family will grow," Viserys continued, smiling at Rhaenyra as he chuckled, "The very near future."

Rhaenyra laid a hand over her belly and beamed at Daemon beside her. He covered her hand with his own. Viserys smiled even bigger as his brother leaned forward to kiss Rhaenyra's cheek.

"There is nothing stronger than the bond of soulmates," Viserys spoke to the room, tearing his eyes from his heir, "As my daughter's love from my brother has reminded me."

Gut twisting, Aegon held the back of his hand to his lips. His breaths grew heavy. Aemond reached for him, squeezing his shoulder. "Egg?"

"As my son has reminded me."

Viserys didn't look at him as he spoke, but the rest of the room did. Aegon gulped, eyes wide.

"With that in mind, I have decided that no betrothals will be made for any children of Targaryen descent until after their sixteenth nameday." Viserys nodded towards Helaena, smiling at her vaguely, "And that all current betrothals shall be nullified."

The room exploded into noise. Helaena hunched, eyes flicking around as all eyes looked to her and Jacaerys, still standing in the center of the room. She wrapped her arms around herself even as Viserys signaled for the music to resume.

"Seven hells!" Aemond cursed and shoved his chair back. He darted towards Helaena as Jacaerys tried, and failed, to calm her. A difficult feat on a good day really.

Aegon fled the room. He barely made it out of the hall before he was doubling over.

Wine never tasted as good the second time.

He fell to his knees, avoiding his sick as he used the wall to stay even partially upright. The expressions of those on the dais with the king flickered through his mind.

They knew. He'd told them. Rhaenyra had probably asked and his father had told her, told Daemon and his mother as well. What else could shock his mother in to making such a face?

A hand clamped over the back of his neck and Aegon cringed. His grandfather was seething when he ripped Aegon up to his feet, "What the hell have you done boy?"

Stumbling back, Aegon fell into the wall opposite. He shivered, ducking his head as Otto stalked closer.

"Do you not understand how important it is to secure your line? What sacrifices were made to ensure your betrothal to the only available Targaryen princess?" Otto whispered harshly. His hand settled at the base of Aegon's neck, squeezing.

Aegon whimpered, "I never asked to marry Helaena. I never wanted to."

The slap across his face echoed off the stone walls. A crack. It lingered in the hallway. Otto huffed, head shaking, "You're selfishness will be the ruin of us all."

He released Aegon, heading back to the feast with a frown etched deeply in his face. Aemond approached from the other direction, Helaena huddled against his side as she shook.

"Promises made, promises broken, divisons mended," Helaena was muttering again. Nonsense that both he and Aemond ignored as the three of them stood together outside the Great Hall.

Sinking to the floor, Aegon held his arm to his chest. His fingers grazed over the knot of fabric at his wrist. He tilted his head back against the wall, breaths heavy. The ceiling offered no escape.

"You have a soulmate," Aemond stated. He looked down at Aegon. His eye was hard. The leather of his eyepatch the softest part of his expression. It had not been a question. His next word was, "Who?"

"I can't tell you," Aegon whispered, eyes squeezing shut. Aemond snorted.

"If they marry Helaena to Jace because of this, I'll kill you myself," Aemond pulled him to his feet.

Aegon laughed, falling in to his brother's side as Aemond forced him to move. Helaena walked in front of them, still muttering her words, repeating them as she climbed the stairs. Aegon let Aemond guide him up after her.

Voice cracking, hollow, Aegon breathed out, "If they marry Helaena to Jace after this, I'll do it myself."

Chapter Text

The pounding in his head as he refused to open his eyes was not entirely the fault of the wine he'd overindulged in the night before. The king deserved at least partial credit. Aegon's chest was similarly hammering. His breathing shallow and stuttering.

None of this shocked him. Aegon kept his eyes shut and his fingers twisted in his sheets. He focused on his breathing, on forcing deep and gulping breaths.

Each one stabbing through his lungs like ice, but eventually, Aegon had the strength to sit up. The room spun. He stumbled into his clothes.

He wanted nothing more than to plop back into his bed and sleep for the rest of the day. There was no way he was staying in the castle though. His mother would most certainly be on a warpath and, if his grandfather had been any indication, that path would lead her straight to him.

His usual disguise hadn't hidden his mark well enough, but Aegon had acquired a dark shirt and a cloak. It still wasn't as good as the thick fabric of his doublet. Where he planned to go, the doublet would get him second looks. The whores wouldn't be looking that closely at his arms anyway. They only looked where they were paid to after all.

When he arrived at his second-favorite brothel, Aegon paid upfront for the whole day. He crossed his arms behind his still pounding head as two whores got to work warming him up. Lying atop a thin mattress with his eyes closed, Aegon started to relax, to breathe.

A barking laugh from just outside his door ruined that.

It wasn't that he knew his uncle's laugh particularly well because he'd heard it often. Quite the contrary. But Aegon recognized Daemon's voice in the next second, even muffled, as he spoke. His chest seized, breath freezing in his lungs.

"Get out," Aegon shoved the whores away, scrambling from the bed. Annoyance flickered over their faces for barely a second before they were cooing. Aegon ignored them in favor of righting his clothes.

"Don't stop on my account, nephew."

Aegon paused, shirt half over his head. He tugged it down as he turned to face the man entering his room. Daemon stood in his usual clothes, hair slicked back and Dark Sister sheathed at his waist. His chin rose as the whores fled the room.

While they hadn't recognized Aegon without his finery, Daemon had his on display. And the cunt had called him 'nephew.' Aegon would be charged more next time, if he ever came back.

The door clicked shut behind the whores, leaving Daemon and Aegon alone in the room. His uncle stood tall. Looming by the doorway as Aegon shrunk beside the bed. He wrapped his arms around his waist and looked longingly towards the cloak he'd left drapped over a chair in the corner.

"What're... what're you doing here?" Aegon ducked his head, eyes flicking from the floor to Daemon briefly.

"I was visiting a friend," Daemon hummed, rocking backwards on his heels. His eyebrows arched up, "And they informed me I was not the only prince visiting the Street of Silk this morning."

Shuffling his feet, Aegon cleared his throat, "And?" He raised his chin, swallowing thickly as he glared at Daemon, "I hardly think you're one to judge me for my... habits."

Daemon chuckled, hands clasped behind his back. Aegon took a step back, stumbling in to the wall as Daemon approached him.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with," Aegon breathed out, face pressing to the wooden wall as he squeezed his eyes shut.

The room went quiet. The creaking of the floor beneath Daemon's footsteps stopped. It wasn't a blade that rose to his face.

"I have no intention of killing you," Daemon took hold of Aegon's chin, pulling his head to the side. Aegon opened his eyes. Daemon held his face forcefully, gaze narrowing as Aegon stared at him.

"Then what do you want?" Aegon croaked. His voice shook as Daemon's grip loosened.

The hand cupped his face. Daemon tilted his head to the side, "You have a mark." Aegon's gut twisted. "You're cold."

"What?" Aegon's voice cracked. He shook. His whole body thrumming with panic, chest heaving. Daemon didn't release him.

"It's common, for those with soul marks to grow colder when they are separated from their soulmates," Daemon explained. Aegon's eyes fluttered.

He bit his lip. His breath hitched as Daemon's eyes flicked down to his arm.

"He told you, didn't he?" Aegon gasped, tears leaking down his cheek. Daemon's brows furrowed. "He promised he wouldn't," Aegon whispered, squeezing his eyes shut again, "But what am I compared to you, to Rhaenyra."

The hand on his face tightened. Aegon whimpered, hands clawing at the wall behind him. He didn't struggle. He forced himself to breathe. His chest ached, Daemon's grip was nothing compared to the way his lungs were clenching.

"When's the last time you slept properly?" Daemon dropped his hand and Aegon crumpled to the floor.

"What?" Aegon blinked up and Daemon was arching a single brow. He shrugged, "I don't know." He glanced towards the bed, "You just interrupted my best chance at it."

Daemon's jaw clenched. His eyes flashed and Aegon straightened. With quick strides, Daemon grabbed his cloak from the chair and threw it at him.

"Come with me," Daemon turned towards the door, fingers folding towards his palm as he gestured for Aegon to follow.

Scrambling after him, Aegon wrapped himself in his cloak. He double checked the knot on his wrist as Daemon led him out of the brothel.

"Where are we going?" Aegon hissed as he stepped into the sunlight. He tugged his hood up. Cringing, he stumbled in to Daemon's side as the man stopped suddenly.

His uncle was taller than him, but only slightly. Aegon's head collided with his shoulder. An arm wrapped around him and Daemon held him up.

"Somewhere for you to sleep," Daemon told him, head ducking low as he narrowed his eyes.

"I had a place to sleep," Aegon huffed, but he leaned in to Daemon's hold as they walked. His eyelids grew heavy and his steps stumbling.

Daemon scoffed, head shaking, "Sleeping in a brothel is an excellent way to get robbed, my dear nephew." Aegon wrinkled his nose.

"That's why I pay upfront." Aegon shrugged, "I do it all the time."

That garnered a sharp look. Aegon gulped. He shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't be letting Daemon drag him around.

"Where are we going?" Aegon asked again, eyes fluttering.

Daemon sighed, eyes rolling, "Tell me the last time you slept properly. A decent rest. Then I'll tell you."

Wracking his brain, Aegon grumbled. He sunk deeper in to Daemon's hold, head lulling to the side.

"Aemond let me nap in his room while he was studying last week," Aegon supplied, smiling up at his uncle, "That was restful." Daemon's eyes fluttered.

"I'm taking you to the Dragon Pit," Daemon told him, his grip shifting as Aegon stiffened. They didn't pause. Daemon just kept dragging him along. "You'll be able to sleep with Sunfyre. I did it all the time, before, with Caraxes."

Laughing, Aegon nearly fell forward on to his face. Daemon caught him, frowning. "Should've left me in the brothel," Aegon chuckled, face planting on to Daemon's shoulder as he squirmed in the man's arms, "I'd get in less trouble that way."

"Viserys didn't tell me about your mark," Daemon changed the subject as he gave up dragging Aegon's dead weight. Aegon yelped as he was picked up. Daemon craddled him, "I just recognize the signs."

Daemon was warm. Exceptionally so really. His chest gave off heat in waves and Aegon burrowed closer. Cheeks burning, Aegon tried to ignore the fact that he was being carried through the streets like a babe, wrapped up in his cloak, with Daemon of all people holding him.

His grandfather would kill him.

"Do you not like who it is?" Daemon asked, throat bobbing. Aegon watched the movement.

"I like them," Aegon whispered, holding his arm to his chest, "But I'm not... not good enough. Not for them."

Daemon snorted, head shaking, "You're a Targaryen." Aegon stiffened. Daemon glanced down at him. Aegon looked down, avoiding his gaze. "So are they huh?"

The pit was loud as they entered in. Aegon was having trouble keeping his eyes open as Daemon walked across the yard. There were voices, light and cheerful, calling towards them. They didn't move towards the voices.

Aegon's breaths came slower as they were plunged in to the darkness of the tunnels beneath the pit. Sound was muffled at first, then silenced.

The rattling of chains. An occassional screech. Daemon's breathing. The world went dark before they got to Sunfyre. His eyes refused to open even as he was cacooned in the familiar blaze of his dragon's presence.

Chapter Text

Aegon woke up alone with Sunfyre. His dragon had curled around him, creating a nest around where Aegon lay on the floor of the lair. When he sat up, Sunfyre lifted his head, nuzzling at Aegon's shoulder.

Scooting back, Aegon leaned against Sunfyre's body. One of his wings was partially extended, blocking whatever light could even think of reaching them within his lair. Torches. Sunlight. Whatever it might be, golden scales reflected it and shielded Aegon.

He buried his face against those same scales, letting them roughly drag across his face. Sunfyre cooed at him, nudging at his back.

Daemon had been right. Sleeping with Sunfyre, surrounded by his dragon's warmth, Aegon was the most rested he'd been in weeks. Longer even, maybe. It was hard to remember.

Everything since his mark had appeared was sharper, brighter. Harder. Breathing felt more laborious even. But Aegon had needed wines or whores to help him fall asleep for years. Since Driftmark. Since he'd betrayed his nephews to save his mother.

A mother who he only ever managed to disappoint.

Tears prickled at his eyes. Aegon squeezed them shut, taking a shuddering breath as he burrowed into Sunfyre.

"He has a soulmark, doesn't he?"

His throat went dry. His mouth.

Rhaenyra's voice was quiet, but not distant. Sunfyre didn't react beyond a grumbling huff so she must not have been in their lair. Standing in the earthen corrider just past the entrance probably.

Her arrival was, doubtless, the reason he'd woken up. Some self-preservation instinct stirring when the woman with the power to have him killed came close.

"He does," Daemon drawled, sighing heavily. There's shifting, shuffling.

"Is it..." Rhaenyra took a breath, "Is it horrible? Someone cruel or-"

Daemon stopped her with a snort, "Worse." Aegon stiffened, his hands fisting against his abdomen as Daemon spoke, almost laughing, "He loves them."

They were both silent for a moment. Aegon almost moved, almost got up. Intent on following them, on hearing what else they had to say. They were talking about him after all. It was only fair.

"You heard my father, he's not... he's not going to keep soulmates apart again," Rhaenyra said, voice shaky. They hadn't left apparently.

That didn't make him feel better. Aegon remembered what his father had said that morning on his nameday. No, he wouldn't separate soulmates. He was perfectly happy to saddle Jace with Aegon, force him on his nephew.

All in the name of mending what couldn't be broken. Of bringing the family back together, as if they'd ever been a real family to begin with.

"He doesn't think he's good enough." Daemon told her and Aegon flinched. Sunfyre shifted, curling tighter. His heavy breathing almost blocked Rhaenyra's incredulous shriek.

"He's a Targaryen Prince!"

Daemon chuckled, "That's what I said."

Rolling his eyes, Aegon pulled his knees up. The only good thing about being a Targaryen was Sunfyre. Prince or not, Aegon knew he wasn't some great catch.

"What did he say?" Rhaenyra asked, but Aegon's eyelids were already growing heavy again. He was comfortable. Warm.

Safe.

"Nothing." Daemon said, tone sharp. Rhaenyra hummed. It was the last thing Aegon heard before he fell asleep again.

Obviously, she wasn't planning to kill him yet.

It was dark out when Aegon woke again. The torches had been extinguished in the corridor. When Aegon ventured from Sunfyre's cavern and walked into the open space of the Dragon Pit's main theater the only source of light was the moon. Full. Bright.

Aegon turned his head up to look at the celestial body. The moon's soft glow mirroring his own pale skin. Sunfyre whined beside him, waiting with the exact amount of patience expected of him. None.

"We can't go flying," Aegon sighed, bottom lip puckering as he pouted alongside his dragon, "It's night. Mother will already be furious with me for sneaking off. If anyone sees us, I'll probably be confined to my chambers for a month."

Sunfyre's chest rumbled, his head shook, nostrils flared. Aegon sighed and patted at his head.

He needed to return to the castle. He knew how to sneak back in, same as he had out, but he'd been gone longer than usual. Surely his mother knew where he was? Had sent someone to find him? Or Daemon would've informed the king, at least, when he'd gone back.

"Maybe I could stay till morning," Aegon hummed, eyebrows arching as he looked at Sunfyre. The golden beast perked up. Aegon laughed. "You're hardly an unbiased opinion." A soft chuff and Sunfyre turned, nudging Aegon back towards the dragon lairs below the pit.

A roar had them both freezing. Sunfyre reared up, fire at his lips. A deep growl from above was the only response as Vermax sunk down from the sky. The green dragon landed with a huff, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed.

"Uncle? Are you okay?" Jace called out from his beast's back, eyes wide, "I didn't expect anyone to still be here."

Breath caught in his throat, Aegon just gaped as his nephew slid from the saddle. Sunfyre didn't do more than shake his head and grumble as Jace ran up to him, hands squeezing at his arms.

Aegon gasped at the searing heat that spread from his touch. He clamped his mouth shut, eyes fluttering, as it licked at his skin. The warmth bloomed throughout his body at the proximity and Aegon swayed on his feet.

Images invaded his mind, little fantasies he'd been denying himself since his mark had appeared. Warm lips on his skin, a hand pushing him back against cold stone walls, and a body, crowding his own.

Jace did that now, wrapping an arm around Aegon as he guided him to the floor, "Egg?!"

"I'm fine!" Aegon flailed, scooting back out of Jace's reach even as his nephew frowned at him. Aegon breathed shakily, "You just startled me." Jace arched an eyebrow at him and he swallowed, "What are you doing here?"

"I ditched my guards to go flying, obviously," Jace laughed, grinning mischievously at Aegon, "You should recognize the maneuver." Aegon rolled his eyes and sat up.

The sudden warmth was more manageable without the direct contact, but Aegon still felt himself flushing beneath Jace's gaze. He cleared his throat, "Technically, Daemon dragged me here, so I can't be blamed."

"Good luck with that," Jace wrinkled his nose, arms crossing as he scowled, "Daemon never gets in trouble. Even when he should." Behind him, Vermax let out a low growl that had Sunfyre planting his feet. Jace grimaced, "Sorry."

Aegon calmed Sunfyre with a low voice, whispering Valyrian to him as he coaxed him back towards his nest. Jace attempted the same with Vermax. It was less successful.

"It's easier if you do it in Valyrian," Aegon reminded him, lingering in the pit even as his excuse for being there slumbered several yards away in his own cavern. Jace blushed crimson as Vermax finally settled enough for Jace to back out into the corrider.

"I, uh, well, I have a tutor for Valyrian, and mother's always promising to practice with me," Jace rambled, fingers twisting in the edge of his cloak. His gaze narrowed on the ground, "She's always distracted though, with Daemon or something else." His throat bobbed as he looked back up at Aegon, "I'm not very good at it."

"Oh," Aegon ducked his head, shoulders hunching, "Sorry." It figured that the first real conversation he has with Jace since Driftmark ends with his foot in his mouth.

Except it doesn't. Jace smiled at him, hesitantly, "Maybe you could teach me?" Aegon blinked. Jace pursed his lips, rocking backwards, "Please?"

He shouldn't. It was a simple fact that them spending any time together would lead to unimaginable horrors. His mother. His sister. His grandfather. Hell, even Daemon could probably see how stupid it was.

"Sure," Aegon sealed his fate with a shrug. If he died by dragonfire, at least he would die warm. His whole body seemed to boil as Jace smiled, bright and earnest.

"Thank you, uncle!" Jace launched himself forward, hugging Aegon tightly. Aegon's eyes fluttered, light headed as the hug knocked the air from his lungs. Jace didn't seem to notice as he stepped back, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he rocked back on his feet again, "First though, would you happen to know a way to get back to the palace? Quietly?"

Aegon snorted, chin dropped to his chest as he shook his head, "You mean without alerting the guards?" Jace nodded and Aegon started walking backwards, hands going wide, "Oh, my sweet, naive nephew... of course I do." His throat bobbed as Jace laughed, immediately moving to follow him. Trusting him.

Tugging at the cloth around his wrist, he tightened the knot and led Jace towards his favorite secret passage. The only one that connected the Dragon Pit to the Red Keep. He ignored Jace's questions as they passed the openings that led off to the Steet of Silk.

Surely he didn't need to give Rhaenyra any more reasons. Not when Jace took his hand as they slipped across the courtyard to Maegor's, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Soulmate or not, Jace was going to be the death of him.

"Thanks, Egg," Jace whispered, smiling up at him before they parted ways. His dark hair fell into his eyes, grazing over his red cheeks. Aegon stood at the entrance to his mother's side of the castle, directly beneath a seven pointed star. His body chilling as Jace rushed down the opposite hallway.

A horrible, torturous death.

Swallowing, Aegon pursed his lips and headed for his chambers. He rubbed at his forearm.

It'd be worth it though. Probably.

Chapter Text

His room was separate from his mother's. He was the only one of his siblings provided such privacy. The tower he loved so much was accessible via the same hallway that led to his mother's apartments, but Aegon had been moved to his own space not long after his tenth nameday. One of the few gifts his father had ever given him and one that had not been repeated for Helaena or Aemond.

Daeron probably had a private room in the Hightower, but should he be called back to the Red Keep his littlest brother would find his old nursery had been kept waiting. Their mother had the maids clean the sheets and the linens every month. The room was dusted. Books added to the shelves based on the letters he exchanged with their mother.

The little blue dragon figurine still sat on a table where it had been forgotten in the maids' haste to pack the youngest prince for the journey to Oldtown all those years ago.

When Ser Criston escorted Aegon to see his mother upon his return, it was Daeron's room he was led to. Alicent stood in the center of the room, the green of her dress a sharp contrast to the reds and blacks that lingered in this room alone. She was staring at the little blue dragon, lips pursed tight, as Aegon walked in.

The door closed behind him and Aegon glanced over his shoulder at the sharp click of the wood settling into its frame. His eyes flicked briefly over the cradle in the corner covered by a sheet before he looked back at his mother.

"You didn't tell me you had a soulmark," Alicent turned, hands clasped in front of her abdomen as she took a sharp breath. He ducked his head. Gaze focusing on the floor, he didn't notice her stepping closer until her hand cupped his cheek, "Who is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Aegon shook his head. His hair fell into his face and he squeezed at his forearm as he held it behind his back.

"If it is someone cruel, or unkind, we can... we can find a way to disguise it, to hide it." His mother whispered, hand settling on his shoulder. "I won't let them hurt you."

"What?" Aegon's head snapped up, eyes wide. His mother frowned. Alicent's eyes fluttered.

"Is that not why you're afraid? Why you've been hiding it? Surely, if it was someone worthy of you, the king would've-"

Aegon snorted and his mother went quiet. He shook his head again, slower. "The king... the king knows who it is, yes." Aegon bit at his bottom lip, averting his eyes as his mother's stare narrowed. He inhaled sharply, "But I asked him... I asked him not to tell anyone."

The room went quiet, as silent as it always was since Daeron had left. Devoid of laughter or play. Or anything else. It was as if his absence sucked even the faintest bit of happiness left from the room, from their mother.

"And he agreed?" Alicent stepped back, chin rising and brow furrowing. Aegon glanced up at her, nodding mutely. Her jaw clenched. He swallowed thickly.

For all the years his mother had tried to facilitate some sort of relationship, some familial bond between him and the king, Aegon was not surprised to see confusion flash across her face. The anger was a bit shocking. It twisted her expression into a scowl.

"Who else knows? Who have you told?" Alicent demanded and Aegon flinched at the sharpness in her tone. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Just the king," he choked out. His shoulders hunched, "He came to see me, on my nameday, I didn't have time to hide it-"

Hands cupped his face and Aegon startled. His mother was standing in front of him again, eyes wide and trembling, "He made you show him?"

Aegon nodded once more, a sharp bob of his head as his mother's hands tightened around his face. Alicent's throat bobbed and her cheek twitched as her mouth snapped shut. Something shifted. It felt like water dripping down his back and Aegon shivered, already cold, so cold, even in his mother's hold.

"Do you want them?" Alicent whispered, looking up at him, lips twisting in a sad smile, "Will they be good to you?" Voice caught in his throat, Aegon felt tears prickling at his eyes. His mother brushed them away with her thumbs.

"Yes," Aegon croaked, managing another nod before he ducked his head. His fingers dug into his forearm. He wasn't sure which question he was answering. But his mother took a slow breath and squeezed at his arms before stepping back regardless.

"No one will speak of it then, no questions, not until... until the king makes an announcement," Alicent told him, already pacing the room. She wrung her hands together, "If we do not want him to change his mind, we must not allow any mention of your mark to cross his path."

Her gestures were sharp. Her expressions pinched. Aegon watched her mutter to herself, watched her push her hands up her face to muffle a quiet groan. Alicent shook her head, huffing as she rolled her shoulders back, straightening.

"The king has declared that you and Aemond will join your nephews for their lessons once more," Alicent inclined her head towards the door, "They will begin tomorrow. You will need to be vigilant, Aegon, alert." Her brows arched, gaze hard and expectant, "Your brother needs you."

"Yes, mother," Aegon agreed. He straightened as she narrowed her gaze on him. "I'll look out for him, I promise." Her lips pursed, but she gave a clipped nodded, dismissing him.

Aegon fled the room quickly. The long shadow of Daeron's absence following him as he turned to rush down the hall of his mother's apartments to Aemond's room. His brother had already destroyed half the furniture and was shaking in the corner, face twisted with rage and tears on his cheeks.

"Why does he always take their side?!" Aemond snapped as Aegon closed the door of his brother's room. His eyepatch was missing, likely abandoned somewhere in the mess. The sapphire too, was absent from his eye socket.

With a sigh, Aegon took a seat beside his brother, sliding down the wall. He shrugged and wrapped an arm around his brother. Aemond, for all his bravado and his annoyingly tall stature, did not push away. He curled into Aegon's side and wept. His tears dampening the dark shirt Aegon still wore from his excursion out of the castle.

"Why do you smell like dragon?" Aemond muttered, sniffling as he wiped at his face. He didn't pull his head up, or move an inch really.

"Daemon dragged me to the pit after he found me in a brothel," Aegon told him and his brother tensed, head snapping up. Letting his own head fall back against the stone wall, Aegon laughed, "He was actually trying to help me."

Aemond's mouth dropped open. His gaze flicked towards Aegon's left arm, the one curled against his chest just below where Aemond's head had been resting a moment before.

"Apparently, I'm always cold because I'm separated from my soulmate," Aegon smiled at him, arching a single brow, "And he thought that was why I haven't been sleeping well in the castle."

"Daemon's a fucking idiot," Aemond scoffed, but his eye narrowed on his arm, "Is there a dragon in your mark?"

"Oi! I was being nice!" Aegon shoved his brother's head back and Aemond growled. Hands flew out to grab him, but Aegon used his feet to push his brother away.

Their scuffling was over in moments, with Aemond's room even more of a mess and Aegon standing by the doorway, chest heaving, as Aemond crossed his arms on the other side of the room. Glaring at him.

"It's not Helaena, and it's definitely not me..." Aemond pushed a hand through his hair. His eye fluttered, then narrowed, "It's one of them, isn't it?" Aegon swallowed thickly. With a huff, Aemond stalked to his bed and threw himself on top of it, "Of fucking course it is, because everything is always about them."

"Hey, come on," Aegon cringed, approaching his brother again with a groan, "It's my mark, obviously it's about me." Aemond whined, dragging a pillow over his head. Aegon plopped beside him. "Just... just let me have this secret, okay? For now."

A glare was leveled on him as Aemond turned his head, "It's not Luke is it?" Aegon chuckled, nearly smiling as he shook his head. Aemond sighed and turned to flop onto his back, "Fine. Whatever. But I'm still killing you if this screws Helaena over."

"We already agreed I'd take care of it," Aegon rolled his eyes and shoved at Aemond's shoulder.

His brother laughed, letting his head fall against Aegon's shoulder again when they settled back against his headboard. Aemond fidgeted, rubbing his cheek absently against Aegon's bicep, "You're... you're on my side though? Right?"

"Yeah, of course," Aegon nudged him lightly. He combed his fingers through Aemond's hair as he looked up at the ceiling. Eyes closing, he took a deep breath, "Now go to sleep, Aem, one of us has to be on their best behavior tomorrow and we both know it won't be me."

Chapter Text

On several occassions, Aegon had heard people refer to the king as peaceful and kind. Merciful was another common one. Truly, he couldn't fathom why as he stood beside his brother in the training yard.

Aemond was as tense as a bow string and had been since breakfast. Across the yard, nearly as stiff as Aemond, stood Baela and Jace. Neither looked happy to be there as Cole detailed the sequence they would be practicing that day.

The only mercy in the whole situation was that Luke had apparently begged off sick for the day. A lie which everyone had decided to swallow without question when Jace said it. Because apparently everyone but the king could recognize that this was a bad idea.

"Prince Aemond, with Prince Jacaerys," Cole gestured with his sword as he paired them up, "Prince Aegon, with Lady Baela." His brother's jaw twitched.

"I think not!" Aegon snorted, chin rising as he crossed his arms. Aemond glanced at him, eyes fluttering as Cole sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Baela beat him to a response.

Baela's nose wrinkled as she stared at him across the yard, "Why not? Afraid you'll lose, your grace?" Aegon smirked and leaned forward, bending at the waist as he mocked her.

"There would certainly be no winning, even if I did put you on your back." Aegon tossed his hair over his shoulder, ignoring the flush on her face as he hummed, "I prefer my women on top of me anyway." Aemond choked beside him, hissing his name.

"Your grace," Cole warned, eyes narrowing, "You shouldn't say such things to a lady-"

He snorted again. Straightening up, Aegon gave a wide shrug, arms spread wide, "Given my uncle's reputation, I doubt I could say anything that would shock my dear cousin." Baela was seething, her hand tight on the grip of her sword. A hand shot out to grab her wrist and Jace pulled her back when she took a step towards Aegon.

"With Prince Jacaerys then," Cole directed him towards his nephew and Aegon purposefully didn't look at Jace as he made his next excuse. He could feel his nephew's eyes on his face just the same, could feel the ice squeezing at his veins as he spoke.

"That didn't go so well for any of us last time," Aegon drawled and watched Cole's jaw clench. Cole pursed his lips and nodded towards Aemond. With an exaggerated bow to the knight, Aegon turned to his brother. "What was the combination anyway, I wasn't paying attention?"

Aemond's lips twitched up and laughter split the dour expression he'd worn all morning. He ducked his head and some of the tension in his shoulders bled away as he led Aegon through the combination at half speed the first few times.

It was nearly so warm a sight to combat the rising chill on his spine. Aegon rolled his shoulders back, shaking himself as he shuddered through it.

The combination was simple enough, with moves Aegon was fairly positive he'd been taught before. Jace and Baela were closer to Aemond's age though and his nephew in particular seemed less than familiar with it. Baela continually whispered corrections when Cole wasn't looking at them. Which was most of the time.

Apparently, his sister was neglecting more of his nephew's studies than just his Valyrian. Aegon's nose wrinkled at the thought.

"You cannot spar with your brother every day, your grace," Cole whispered to him after sending Aemond to the weapons wrack to grab a different sword. He gave him a pointed look and Aegon shuffled his feet, "Sooner or later, he'll have to face them in battle, better that the first time be here, in the training yard, where he has the advantage."

"Haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about Ser Criston," Aegon smiled at him, lips tight and eyebrows arched high. The kingsguard hummed. He returned to circling the yard.

Corrections were called out, mostly to Aegon. His brother was better with the sword than him and Cole was never shy with his favoritism. He practically ignored Jace and Baela entirely. They went through three separate combinations before Cole sent them to the practice dummies to put them all together.

"An interesting teaching technique, ser." The familiar voice sent a shock up Aegon's spine and his head snapped up to find his uncle leaning over the battlements on the wall above them. He arched a brow as Cole stilled, "I'd have thought you more interested in the hands-on approach."

Baela was practically beaming as her father pushed off from the wall. In moments, he was strolling in to the yard, a curious jaunt to his step. Aegon took half a step in front of his brother, frowning as he watched his nephew's brow furrow into a proper glare.

"Would it not be more effective for them to spar properly? For you to get a feel for their strengths and weaknesses before pairing them off as such?" Daemon's gaze flickered over them all. His lips pulled wide in a smirk as Cole cleared his throat.

"Prince Aegon was clear on his preference for training partner, your grace. I thought it best to allow him that until my students can become... comfortable around one another again."

Cole threw him into the dragon's fire without hesitation and Daemon's eyes snapped to him. His uncle's head tilted as he surveyed him. Eyes narrowed. Lips pursed tight. Assessing. Judging. Aegon's gut twisted as he stared back at him.

"I think he's just afraid to lose to a girl," Baela called out primly. Her father smiled at her, laughing softly as his attention shifted away. Aegon let out a slow breath.

"I've taught you well, but Aegon still has five years on you and had his first sword pressed into his hand ten years ago, not two," Daemon reminded her and Aegon stiffened at his words. Baela rolled her eyes and Jace bit at his bottom lip, glaring at the ground.

His uncle looked back at him then. Aegon crossed his arms, training sword held loosely in one hand. He arched a brow, "Did you interrupt for a reason, uncle? We have a rather full schedule today and I have plans."

"Another trip to the brothel is it?" Daemon narrowed his eyes and Aegon flushed. He swallowed thickly. Behind him, Aemond shifted closer. A hand gripped at the back of his doublet. A solid ball of warmth he leaned into desperately.

"Maybe," Aegon clicked his tongue, head tilting, "Will I be seeing you there again?" Daemon's nose wrinkled and his gaze flicked briefly towards his daughter again. Aegon grinned.

Cole cleared his throat, giving Aegon a pointed look, "I think that's enough for you today, my prince." Aegon spared him only a glance. He didn't move.

"Stop antagonizing him!" Aemond hissed in his ear, tugging on his doublet, "You know what mother said."

"He started it," Aegon snapped back, voice low. A chuckle from across the yard drew his gaze to Jace. He was openly smirking, eyes still narrowed on Daemon. Baela was pursing her lips to hide her own amusement.

Well, at least he was entertaining someone. Daemon's expression was far from it. Jaw clenched and twitching as he swept an arm towards the center of the yard.

"Perhaps Prince Aegon could showcase his skills for me," Daemon stepped back, rocking on the balls of his feet as he smiled viciously at Cole, "If you don't mind, Ser Criston? He has been your student the longest and I would like to be sure my daughter is receiving a proper education."

Fuck. Aegon tensed. He paled and tightened his grip on the training sword in his hand. Daemon had Dark Sister strapped to his hip. He was sixteen. Old enough to train with live steel according to most.

There were proper knights his age, technically. No one had ever accused Aegon of being anything like a knight. Surely not when it came to his skill with a sword.

It would be an easy way to kill him. An accident in the training yard. Daemon could even blame it on Cole, on lack of preparation or proper training. His mother said Daemon hated Cole.

"You'll have to play with my brother another time, husband," Rhaenyra called out from the battlements above them, just as Daemon had before.

The same spot even.

Aegon's stomach twisted. He didn't look up at her. Not even as Daemon made a show of pouting. Her laughter was light, twinkling even, "The children have lessons, my love."

Aemond was quick to latch on to that, practically dragging him away. Swords were abandoned. Curses were whispered. In a few moments, they were climbing the stairs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aegon caught sight of Rhaenyra settling into a seat further back from the battlement. Her hair fell forward into her face, the silver strands catching the sunlight as they passed the archway leading to her apparent hiding spot. He paused. Eyes fluttering, Aegon swallowed thickly.

Her head turned and Rhaenyra smiled at them. Lips pulled wide as her hands settled on her bump. "Don't let Daemon bother you, he is easily bored." Rhaenyra inclined her head towards the training yard, "He'll likely join you properly tomorrow, rather than just observing."

"Great," Aegon managed, chuckling nervously as his voice cracked. Aemond squeezed at his hand, pulling him onward. He didn't catch Rhaenyra's frown. Nor did he notice Daemon pausing on the stairs behind them.

Chapter Text

Aegon scrubbed his hands down his face as he entered his room. He groaned. To say the day had been long was an understatement. Baela might've gone off to study with a septa alongside his sister and hers, but Jace had joined them for nearly every lesson. All of Aemond's lessons, specifically.

On a purely logisitical level, he understood why, but it meant Aegon had actually needed to attend all those lessons as well! He wanted to be anywhere else. A brothel. Flying. Anywhere but that damn library listening to the maester prattle on about the legal statutes of King Jaehaerys.

He'd have preferred one of Helaena's long, rambling monologues about some Braavosi slug or Lorathi butterfly by the end of it.

Maybe Daemon would actually kill him tomorrow and Aegon could be free of it all. A chill ran up his spine. Aegon shivered, whining as he rubbed at his forearm.

Every inch of him seemed to be covered in a cold sweat, like a thin layer of ice he couldn't crack. With a huff, he ripped his rather useless doublet off, tossing it aside. He toed off his shoes as he stripped his shirt off on the way to the bed.

One of the maids had put a warming pan beneath the near mountain of blankets he'd requested. Aegon moaned as he climbed beneath them. His whole body sunk into the warmth and his eyes fluttered closed.

Jace had watched him all day. His gaze hot on Aegon's neck, or his cheek. Sometimes his back. Aegon had avoided his gaze and every second he did had sent tiny tendrils of pain shooting through his body. He'd hidden them well enough, but now he was exhausted. Aching.

Turning on his side, Aegon lifted his left forearm and tugged at the black material wrapped around it. The tight knot had left red lines over his pale skin, but he ignored them to stare at his mark.

He traced a finger over the green dragon, over Vermax. Seeing the beast the night before had made it even more obvious. There was a touch of red to the dragon's wings, a pinkish hue that was evident in his soulmark as well.

The seahorse was similar to the one that decorated Jace's doublet during their lessons as well. Nearly identical really, except for the colors. The Targaryen red splashed across his skin like an accusation.

His door opened, the hinges squeaking slightly, and Aegon scrambled to rewrap his arm. When he peaked out from beneath his blankets, Aegon found himself looking at the very source of his problems. The boy that his torturous life seemed to revolve around stood at his once more closed door, ear pressed to the wood.

"What are you doing?" Aegon wrinkled his brow and Jace shushed him. After a beat, he straightened, smiling as he turned from the door. Aegon arched a brow, arm purposefully hidden beneath his blankets.

"Ah, well, my mother told me not to bother you, after Daemon pulled his usual nonsense this morning, so I had to sneak away," Jace offer the explanation with a shrug as he walked deeper into the room. Aegon swallowed thickly as his nephew tilted his head, dark hair falling into his eyes as Jace arched a brow, "Why do you have so many blankets? Falls only just begun, it's still warm out."

Aegon flushed and ducked his head, "Just a bit cold." Jace snorted. He took a seat on the edge of the bed. Far enough away to be proper, but far too close for Aegon's comfort. His heart raced as he watched Jace kick his shoes off.

"I know you were being an ass on purpose this morning," Jace pulled one leg up, leaning on his knee with his heel braced against the mattress. He watched Aegon out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching down, "And you stayed for all the lessons even though you didn't have to."

He kept quiet, biting at his bottom lip as he fell back onto his bed. Aegon stared at the ceiling. Blankets pulled up to his chin, he could almost pretend Jace wasn't there. He certainty couldn't see him.

"Aemond's nervous around us, isn't he?" Jace asked out right. His voice was quiet, a nervous whisper.

"Well, the last time he was alone with the four of you, he lost an eye, so... yeah, nervous is a good word," Aegon sighed, raising his hand to rub at his face. His right hand. His left gripped the sheet tightly.

His nephew didn't say anything. He was as still as a statue on the edge of the bed. A warm statue. Jace's body heat was tantalizing. Barely an arm's length away.

With a huff, Aegon turned his head to squint at Jace, "Is Aemond why you came up here?"

"No." Jace flushed. He looked at Aegon over his shoulder, brows furrowing, "But, it's more important than Valyrian lessons."

"I don't know, if you're Valyrian is really bad you might not be able to control Vermax and he can breathe fire so..." Aegon hummed, sidestepping the issue entirely to smirk at his nephew. Jace rolled his eyes.

When Jace shoved at his side, his warmth leaking in and Aegon found himself sighing. His eyes fluttered and he pursed his lips. Jace shifted closer, sitting on the bed properly, facing him.

Aegon let the Valyrian flow over his tongue, eyebrow arching as he looked back at Jace, "How much do you know?"

"A little." Jace answered in the common tongue. Aegon narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue. He pinched Jace's arm through his doublet.

"In Valyrian." Aegon prompted. His nephew's shoulders sagged, but he repeated himself. The Valyrian slow, half stuttered and vaguely stunted, but correct. Aegon smiled, nudging him on, "There we go."

Jace smiled, cheeks split wide as he beamed. Air caught in his throat. His left arm twitched, his mark burning as he basked in Jace's happiness.

"I don't know how to do this, so, ask me something in Valyrian." Aegon pushed forward. He spoke slower than he normally would, if he were with Sunfyre. Or the few occasions he talked with Helaena in Valyrian.

He doubted Aemond would appreciate the comparison, but it was the same way he spoke to him. Slow, enunciating carefully so that Jace could recognize the individual words.

"Have you really been..." Jace paused, biting at his bottom lip. He groaned, "How do I say training with a sword?" Aegon gave him the phrase and Jace repeated it, continuing his question with a quirk of his brow, "...for ten years?"

"Longer, I think." Aegon mused, blowing out a breath slowly. He tilted his head as Jace leaned closer, "I don't actually remember when my lessons with Cole started, but I was four when I got my first sword."

Jace nodded slowly, forehead wrinkling as he parsed the words. He shifted, bracing himself on his arms more, "How do you know you were four specifically?"

"Your mother was pregnant with you," Aegon shrugged, rolling his shoulders back as he frowned at the ceiling.

A quick memory flashed in his mind. Of running in to his sister's apartments, ducking between a kingsguard's legs to present her his new toy. Rhaenyra had smiled at him, big and bright. The same smile that Jace had aimed at him a few minutes earlier.

"I was really excited." Aegon told him, lips pursing tight as he looked back at Jace. His nephew's eyes gleamed. He forced himself to chuckle as he remembered how the day had ended, "I also got in quite a lot of trouble, of course, swinging a sword around in the same room as the pregnant Princess of Dragonstone... Even blunted?"

The light in Jace's eyes did not dim as Aegon whistled, head shaking. Jace traced the pattern of the blanket with one finger, eyes squinting at the movement for a while before he finally spoke.

The Valyrian was smoother this time, lilting to mimic Aegon's pronunciation on certain sounds, "Mother said you were cute when you were little." Jace grinned at him, tongue swiping at his bottom lip, "Very popular with all the maids."

"What do you mean 'when I was little,' Velaryon?" Aegon dropped his chin to his chest, sitting up just enough to arch an accusing brow. Jace laughed, doubling over as Aegon stuck his tongue out, "I am still cute and still popular with the maids."

"Why do you go to brothels then?" Jace poked at his side, voice light even as the question cut through the air as sharp as any sword. His nephew hadn't needed to think of the words, hadn't needed to construct the sentence in his head first. Translate it.

His body went cold. Jace was avoiding his gaze, face pink as Aegon's head fell back into his pillow. His nephew's finger moved over the blanket mere inches from Aegon's arm. His left one. Inches from his mark.

"Egg?" Jace prompted, lashes fluttering as he looked at him. He was biting at his lip again. Aegon shook himself, pulling his left arm over his abdomen.

"I sleep there, sometimes." Aegon admitted. It was his turn to avoid Jace's eyes once again. He tucked one of the blankets around his arm, just in case. Aegon puckered his lip, "It's just easier for me. "

Jacaerys snorted, head shaking. It took him a moment to respond again, and his Valyrian was crisper this time. Sharp. "That seems dangerous. You're a prince, what if someone attacked you? Or slit your throat while you were sleeping?"

"Well, I'd be busy bleeding out and then dead, so I don't think it'd really be my problem." Aegon hummed, nose wrinkling as he remembered Daemon's words from the day before.

Daemon knew he slept in brothels too. And he'd worried about Aegon being robbed, not killed. If it was the first thing Jace thought of, maybe it had been for Daemon too. It couldn't be that difficult to find a whore willing to kill a prince for a few coins. And Daemon said he was visiting a friend. A friend at a brothel.

A finger poked at his side and Aegon drew in a breath. He blinked, shuffling beneath the covers as he processed Jace's glare, "What?"

"Why don't you just sleep here?" Jace sat up slightly. He gestured all around them, head turning as he surveyed the room. Jace huffed, obviously finding no immediate flaw with his bedchamber, "You have your own room, away from everyone else. Why do you need to go to a brothel?"

"Well, that's just it isn't it?" Aegon's lips flicked up and Jace's brow furrowed. He shrugged again, "I'm by myself here. Alone." He pressed his cheek to his pillow, eyes closing briefly, "I'm not alone at a brothel."

His nephew said nothing, but his silence was loud. Aegon's heart beat loudly in his ear. He opened his eyes, clicking his tongue.

"Plus the body heat is nice. I get cold really easily." Aegon tacked on, exaggerating a wink as Jace wrinkled his nose.

"You're a Targaryen, shouldn't you run warm? Like me?"

Aegon moaned as Jace reached out, his palm pressing to Aegon's cheek. His body shuddered and his hand snapped up to wrap around Jace's wrist, holding him still as his heat practically poured into Aegon's body. A warm syrup that drizzled down his spine.

For all of Jace's teasing, the hug the night before, this was the first time they'd really touched. The first time their bare skin had made contact since the mark had appeared on Aegon's arm. It was burning now and Aegon was drowning in sensation.

"You... you really are cold," Jace gasped, trembling as Aegon peeled his fingers off his nephew's wrist. Jace kept his hand in place, thumb running up and down Aegon's jaw as his palm slid down to his throat. "Does this help?"

Mewling, Aegon just pressed back against the warmth, eyes squeezing shut. His voice slurred, his Valyrian nearly incomprehensible, "You're almost as warm as Sunfyre."

Right hand wrapping around his forearm, Aegon dug his fingers into his mark. He focused on the sharp push of his short nails through the fabric, the pressure against his arm.

It barely processed. Not with Jace's gentle touches on his face to compete with. With fingers grazing over his jaw, the back of his neck. Aegon exhaled slowly, eyes cracking open.

His nephew had shifted closer. Nearly sitting beside his head. Jace flashed him a smile as Aegon croaked out, "Thanks."

"I have to get back..." Jace spoke softly, his other hand coming up trace the side of his face. He fluttered his lashes and Aegon's heart jumped into his throat. Jace had to be able to feel it, pounding there beneath his palm as he asked, "...can I come back tomorrow? Practice some more?"

Gods. Rhaenyra could kill him. What was a blade against his throat compared to this? To Jace's palm sliding down to squeeze at his shoulder.

"Sure," Aegon agreed, swallowing thickly. Maybe he was signing his death warrant, but fuck, he was warm. Jace was warm. His smile was so bright, like Sunfyre's scales or the sun itself.

"Sleep well, uncle," Jace dropped a kiss to his forehead, as if he were tucking him in, and then he dropped from the bed. Aegon sat up to watch him tug on his shoes and pause to listen at the door.

It was only once Jace left, once his warmth had gone with him and Aegon was left to sink back into his cold sheets that he realized what had just happened. Whining, Aegon rolled over, smothering himself in his pillow.

His sister wouldn't even have to kill him. If his grandfather found out about this, Otto would do it himself. Aemond would make a better king than him anyway. Probably.

Maybe not as good as Jace though. No one was as good as Jace.

Chapter Text

Somehow, the fact that Daemon didn't take the opportunity to murder him wasn't the most surprising thing about their training the next day.

No. That probably went to the living embodiment of a shaking leaf that was Luke. His gaze would flick towards Aemond every few seconds, then to the ground, then Aemond, then the ground. It was a vicious cycle. One Aegon got to ignore the second Daemon dragged him into the ring.

The longest bout of his life ended with him in the dirt. Because of course it did.

"Not bad," Daemon drawled as he offered Aegon a hand up from the ground. Forehead wrinkling, Aegon took it. His uncle clapped him on the shoulder, "You're quick on your feet. Hone your technique a bit more and you might just stand a chance, nephew."

"Thanks?" Aegon arched a brow, blinking slowly. He walked backwards a few steps before turning to his brother. Looks were exchanged. Eyebrows raised.

Daemon waved towards the ring with the blunt training sword in his hand, "Aemond? Care for a dance?"

His brother stiffened. Aegon's grip on his own sword tightened. With a sharp nod, Aemond swallowed and walked forward.

Objectively, Aemond was a better swordsman. He spent all his spare time training. Practicing. Drilling. But his field of vision was narrower. He had to expend more energy to keep an opponent in his sight.

And his balance was still off after his last growth spurt. It was something Aegon had taken advantage of only the week before in their sparring. Daemon picked up on it quickly as well.

He tested Aemond's defenses, a relentless barrage of attacks that kept his brother spinning. Eventually, as he usually did when off balance, Aemond stepped wrong. Daemon moved to wack Aemond's blind side with the flat of his blade. He met Aegon's blade instead.

Their eyes met as Aegon's sword rose up, lifting Daemon's away from Aemond's right arm. His jaw clenched. His uncle blinked first.

"We'll have to come up with something less flashy than those spins," Daemon cleared his throat as Aegon pushed him back. He smiled tightly, inclining his head forward as he looked at Aemond, "They draw attention to what you're doing, to your blind spots."

"Yes, uncle," Aemond responded monotonously. He turned around sharply and Aegon groaned as he followed him. His brother was hissing in his ear about interfering before Daemon beckoned Jace forward next.

"Well, perhaps if you didn't keep a gemstone in your head that could cut you, I wouldn't worry so much about someone ringing it like a bell," Aegon snapped at his brother and Aemond sneered. He fell quiet though. And Aegon became very aware of the eyes on them from around the training yard.

Daemon actually faltered enough in his steps for Jace to land a decent hit. His eyes fluttered and then he laughed, "And here I'd been worried we had neglected your training as late, Jacaerys." Jace ducked away from the hand when Daemon moved to ruffle his hair.

Neither acknowledged it and Daemon was quick to call his last quarry. Aemond tracked Luke's movements closely, shifting closer to Aegon as their younger nephew raised his sword.

Luke was the youngest. The least experienced. He was also the most nervous, it seemed. His distraction obvious and Daemon had him go through three short bouts before dismissing him.

"So, tell me, Ser Criston, what is your assessment of your students?" Daemon swaggered towards the kingsguard as Luke joined Baela on the railings of a nearby pen. Chin high, Daemon gestured widely, "How would you pair them off?"

"By their levels, your grace," Cole responded with a sharp nod. He pursed his lips, "Lady Baela is most impressive for someone with only two years experience. While Prince Jacaerys and Prince Aemond have more years under their belts, I'd likely pair the three together, alternating bouts."

Daemon hummed, his head tilted, eyes flicking towards Luke. "You'd pair Aegon and Luke together then?"

"Prince Aegon would be a good teacher," Cole offered, clearing his throat as Daemon narrowed his eyes on him. "You disagree, your grace?"

"No," Daemon turned sharply around and strolled back towards them. Aemond went tense, eye going wide. Aegon stepped forward, but his uncle ignored him. "Tell me, Aemond, how many years have you been training with a sword?"

"Four, total," Aemond answered automatically and Daemon's eyes narrowed. He ducked his head, "I only started at six, when Prince Jacaerys and I joined my brother's lessons."

The eyes stayed narrowed. Daemon's jaw clicked, "That was five years ago, was it not?" Aegon scoffed, chin rising as his uncle's eyes flicked to him now.

"It took a while, before the maester would allow him to train again," Aegon inclined his head towards Luke even as he stared pointedly at his uncle, "After." Daemon straightened. His nod was clipped.

"I hate this," Aemond mumbled against his shoulder as he sagged against him. Daemon had crossed the yard again, was likely questioning Jace and Luke about their own training now.

Aegon nudged him as Cole approached them. His brother lifted his head, frowning. Cole pointed them both towards the dummies. Aegon groaned, "Do we have to?"

"If you have the energy to complain, your grace..." Cole trailed off, lips twitching up as Aemond snickered.

He supervised as they went through the drills. One eye no doubt trained on Daemon across the yard as he did the same with his three charges. Cole waited till the end of their time to ask the question.

"Will you be joining us every day, Prince Daemon?"

"More often than not, I hope," Daemon smirked, rocking back on his heels, "I find myself without many responsibilities here in King's Landing at present, so I have asked my brother for this one."

They all froze. Even Baela. Though she was the only one smiling. Luke was looking at Jace, eyes wide as his brother scowled. Daemon ignored them all, too busy smirking at Cole.

"I would like to see how you run your lessons first, of course, as you've spent time training all of the boys. It will be most enlightening, to see how they respond to your methods firsthand."

Whatever response Daemon was hoping for from the kingsguard was drowned out by Jace. "You didn't even train us on Dragonstone, why would you care to do it now?!" His nephew's voice rose, growing sharper with every word. Aegon tuned him out as he shoved his brother towards one of the archways leading into the castle.

They were barely out of sight, hidden at the base of the stairs, when Aemond threw his sword across the hallway. Aegon stepped sideways to avoid it. His brother shoved at the stone wall next, shoulders shaking as he quietly seethed.

"It's not fair!" Aemond snapped, head turning when Aegon squeezed at his shoulder. He leaned against the wall on Aemond's left side. "Cole's the only one besides mother who gives a damn about us and Daemon is just going to waltz in and-"

"He's mother's swornshield," Aegon reminded him, voice low as he hunched closer. Aemond shook his head, eyes squeezing shut.

He was scowling, inhales shallow and shaky. Tears fell quietly, streaking his cheeks. His voice cracked, "It's not fair."

"You know you're his favorite, Aem. He'll probably train with you still, in your free time. It'll be like you get a whole extra lesson-"

"Aemond?" Rhaenyra's voice called out from behind him and Aegon spun around, eyes wide. She stood halfway down the staircase, forehead crinkled and head tilted, "What's wrong?"

Oh. That was not a good question. Aegon grimaced as he heard Aemond laugh behind him. A hollow, stilted thing that was almost inaudible.

"You are!" Aemond exploded, shouting up at her. Rhaenyra's eyes went wide as he shrieked at her, "This is all your fault! You just take everything and he let's you!"

"What're you..." Rhaenyra trailed off, mouth falling open as Aemond slammed his hand against the wall. He sobbed, muffling it against his arm.

The air shifted at his back and Aegon groaned as Aemond took off. Rhaenyra called after him, but Aemond kept going. Hands rubbing at his temples, Aegon glared up at his sister. She startled.

Shoulders rolling back, Rhaenyra descended the stairs, "Aegon? What's going on? Why is Aemond upset?"

He didn't have time for this. Aegon huffed, head falling back. "Ask your husband," Aegon snapped, voice going higher as he bowed his head, "Your grace." She didn't call after him as he ran after Aemond.

Which was good. That didn't bother him at all. He had more important things to worry about than Rhaenyra's annoyance at his disrespect. Even if she had seemed worried. Her voice low and dripping with concern as she'd come down the stairs, one hand cradling her stomach.

Fuck. What if they'd upset her too much? Did it... would the king blame them, if something happened to the baby?

Yes. Absolutely. Even if Rhaenyra was the one who'd approached them. Even if Daemon was the one who'd upset Aemond first. It wouldn't matter. It'd be her against them. And they were nothing compared to his precious Rhaenyra. Just a bunch of sons he didn't need.

Vhagar's roars shook the Red Keep even from across the river. Aegon caught sight of his brother as he reached the Mud Gate. The bronze beast was waiting on the other side, claws digging in to the shoreline as the various boats scrambled to avoid her wrath.

All Aemond had to do was jump. Vhagar caught him, her neck stretching across the water. Aemond climbed up her scales, clinging to her as Vhagar retreated back into the kingswood.

Aegon had to cross what he was fairly positive was the most rickety bridge in the Seven Kingdoms. Not that he blamed any of the boats for avoiding that side of the river right now.

His brother was in a state, which meant Vhagar was moodier than usual. She wasn't the calmest of dragons to begin with either.

"I know it was stupid!" Aemond shouted down at him. Aegon shrugged as he sat down in the dirt. At least this time he got to pick his spot.

Aemond was curled up on Vhagar's neck, right where he'd landed when she grabbed him. No where near the saddle on her back and far too high off the ground to be safe. He kept his mouth shut regardless as his brother sniffled.

The dragon didn't coo at him like Sunfyre did Aegon. Vhagar rocked him instead, neck swinging side to side as Aemond took shaky breath after shaky breath. Still crying.

"You don't need Cole to protect you from Luke," Aegon reminded him after the sniffling died down. "It's not like he did you any good on Driftmark." His brother stiffened and Aegon sighed.

"I'm not afraid of Luke," Aemond turned his head to glare at him. Aegon arched a brow. His brother wrinkled his nose, "I'm not! He just..." Shoulders rolled, Aemond ducked his head, "...reminds me, that's all."

Nodding, Aegon leaned back, elbows digging into the ground, "Well, maybe you remind him too. I'm sure you noticed how nervous he was."

"It's not the same and you know it!" Aemond snapped. Vhagar groused, nostrils flaring. Aegon kept very still until she turned her head away from him.

"I thought we agreed no shouting at me when the giant, angry dragon is around?" Aegon gestured emphatically at Vhagar's horrendously huge head. Aemond huffed, his own giant head dropping back against her scales.

This was gonna take forever. Aegon whined as he flung himself backwards. The ground was hard. Vhagar kept making vaguely annoyed noises in his general direction. But! He wasn't listening to a maester talk about legal statutes.

Small mercies. Tiny victories. Don't look a dragon in the mouth, all of that.

It was a few hours before he convinced his brother to return to the Red Keep. By then, the entire castle was buzzing with the news that Jace had apparently called Daemon a 'jealous attention whore' who couldn't stand that someone was better than him at something.

Really, the shocks kept coming. He never would've expected any of his nephews to compliment Cole. Even indirectly.

"Maybe we'll get out of this unscathed after all," Aegon swung an arm around his brother's shoulder as they trekked towards their mother's chambers. Aemond just hummed, still frowning.

His pessimism was well placed.

Their grandfather was waiting when they walked into the recieving room. A hand tight on the back of their mother's chair and a frown etched into his wrinkled face.

"Which of you thought it was a good idea to *yell* at the Princess of Dragonstone?" Otto asked, voice as cold as ice.

Aegon was already freezing though. What was a few degrees more?

"In my defense," Aegon drawled, arm dropping from Aemond's shoulder as he stepped forward, "Daemon was being a total twat and Rhaenyra caught me off guard."

Chapter Text

"Why do you like Ser Criston?" Jace asked. He was settled back against Aegon's headboard. Aegon's head was pillowed in his nephew's lap. Gentle fingers were combing through his hair.

Aegon really didn't want to answer the question. But Jace had asked in Valyrian, and their unspoken agreement these last few weeks meant he had to.

"Sometimes I don't," Aegon sighed, turning his head to press his cheek to Jace's thigh. He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth settling in his body, in his bones. "But... I guess it's cause he cares."

"What do you mean? I know he's nicer to you and Aemond, but... he's still a jerk." Jace's Valyrian was stilted again, his pronunciation a little too sharp.

Nails scratched over his scalp. A thumb traced the top of his ear. If he were a cat, Aegon would be purring. He might do it anyway.

He poked at Jace's side and his nephew repeated his words. Slower. Enunciating properly. The emphasis was still off on certain sounds.

"Better," Aegon hummed, licking his lips. He shifted, turning his head the other way so Jace's hand would move to the spot he wanted.

The hand paused, thumb tracing his other ear. Jace shook him lightly, "Come on, I'm not saying it again. You said it was better."

"You remember how your father would pop into our training sometimes? Regaled us with stories about the Stepstones and gave Cole this really sharp look as he asked you how you liked the lessons so far?"

His nephew stiffened at the mention of his father. The tension lessened only once Aegon mentioned the Stepstones. He cringed, nose wrinkling.

"Sorry, should I not mention Laenor?"

"No, it's... it's fine," Jace spoke softly. His hand resumed it's petting. Aegon breathed out, shoulders sagging. He pursed his lips. Jace shoved at his shoulders, "Keep going. I remember."

Aegon swallowed thickly, "Cole does stuff like that." He turned his body, curling on his side with his left arm tucked underneath. "When we got back from Driftmark, he checked in on Aemond everyday. He spent weeks, training day and night with him, so he could join my lessons again."

"So... he looks out for your brother? And that's enough?" Jace sounded skeptical and when Aegon opened his eyes, he found his nephew scowling at the wall.

"Well, I'm not particularly good at it, so yeah," Aegon shrugged, brow furrowing, "He looks after my mother too though. Protects her. It's different, he's her swornshield, but... it's important."

Jace bit his lip, nodding sharply. "My mother wants me to give Daemon more of a chance." Aegon snorted. His nephew dropped his chin, arching a brow, "What? He's good with Joff. And Luke, sometimes. And he makes my mother happy. That's... sort of like Cole."

"It's different. Cole isn't fucking my mother?" Aegon offered, laughing when Jace visibly gagged. Jace shoved his head off his lap and Aegon sat up.

Checking his arm was still covered, Aegon scooted over the bed to sit beside him instead. His nephew crossed his arms and Aegon bumped their shoulders together.

Head turning, Jace looked at him, brows arched high. Aegon leaned his head back, "It's also different because we didn't have someone who did that stuff before Cole. The king came to watch your lessons, not ours."

Still did, given he'd shown up for the first time in three years just that morning. Flanked by Daemon and Rhaenyra on one side, Otto Hightower on the other. The full array of adults who didn't give a shit about them.

"Baela and Rhaena gave my mother a chance," Jace admitted, lips curling, "They didn't have to. I mean, Aunt Laena died just before my father. We were all upset at the wedding, but... they're closer now. Rhaena and her especially."

"Yeah, well, your mother is significantly less of a twat than Daemon."

That earned him a laugh. Jace fell into his side, ducking his face against Aegon's shoulder. He smiled as his nephew pressed the back of his hand to his lips, trying to silence himself.

"If you want to give Daemon a chance, you can, I guess," Aegon continued, lips puckering as he shook his head, "Just so long as you don't expect me to."

"You know, I understand why I hate Daemon-"

Aegon scoffed, "Anyone with half a brain could figure that out, Jace. It's pretty obvious."

Jace ignored him, elbowing him, "But why do you hate him?"

"Do I need a reason beyond the before mentioned twat thing?" Aegon slouched downward as he groaned. Jace just elbowed him again.

He whined. Tilting his head, he fluttered his lashes at Jace, bottom lip puckered. His nephew flicked him, "You can ask me a question, after."

Eyes rolling skyward, Aegon sighed. Heavily. "For the opposite reason as Cole, basically." Jace's face twisted, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing.

"What? Because he doesn't look out for Aemond? Or your mother?" Jace tugged on his arm, wrapping himself loosely around Aegon's left side.

"Sort of," Aegon pushed a hand up his face. He ruffled it through his hair, scowling at the ceiling, "When I was little, Nyra would tell me stories about him. He was this... this fierce dragonrider. He stood up to the king. He told her the truth even when it hurt and he always, always looked out for her. Protected her."

Vaguely, Aegon wondered if Helaena remembered any of this like he did. If she'd ever imagined their uncle differently. His sister had been just as enamored with Rhaenyra's stories, but she'd been much younger.

"I thought he'd be like that for all of us, I guess," Aegon whispered, talking more to himself than to Jace. "I thought he'd protect us." He sniffed, chin dropping as he scoffed. "But he didn't. He's just like the king."

Daemon only cared about Rhaenyra. Only wanted Rhaenyra.

He hadn't given a damn about them, hadn't cared at all that Aemond was hurt. The giant who road Caraxes and wielded Dark Sister, the man who would stand up to the king... he'd done nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

"I don't hate him," Aegon shrugged, ducking his head and rubbing at his eyes, "I don't even know him. I just... miss the fantasy."

His throat bobbed. Jace stayed quiet. A hand rubbed at his arm. A warm pressure over his doublet. It moved downward.

"Don't-" Aegon gasped as Jace's hand grazed over his mark. Jace pulled his hand away quickly, but there were already stars exploding behind his eyes.

"Egg?!" Jace scrambled over him. Aegon hadn't even realized he'd slumped sideways, his body trembling, every nerve alight as he struggled to breathe.

Fuck. That'd been through three layers of clothes. One of them a very thick doublet. Aegon whined, curling into a ball as Jace fretted over him.

A hand cupping at his face had him moaning like he had that first day. Jace drew back, eyes wide.

Slowly, Aegon pulled himself up, chest heaving as he took slow and deliberate breaths. He offered his nephew a weak smile as he propped himself up on his elbows, voice cracking, "Sorry."

"What was that?!" Jace's arms flew out, panic high in his shrieking voice as he stumbled back into the common tongue, "You just... just convulsed or something!"

"Ah! Valyrian only," Aegon reminded him. His hand shook as he flicked Jace's forehead.

Scowling, Jace arched a brow. His hands settled on his hips as he knelt beside Aegon on the bed. He dutifully switched back to Valyrian, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Just, uh... just my soulmark," Aegon cleared his throat and looked pointedly away, "It's sensitive. No one's suppose to touch it."

Technically, Aegon didn't know if that was true. No one *had* touched it. Even the king hadn't tried.

But Jace was... Jace.

"Oh." Jace collapsed inward, hands wringing in his lap. His shoulders hunched. Aegon tugged absently at the knot around his wrist. Jace's gaze snapped towards it.

But he didn't ask. He settled beside Aegon as he straightened back against the headboard once more. Jace let the silence reign for only a moment.

"It's your turn to ask a question," Jace reminded him, elbow shooting out and then back in quickly. The gesture aborted before it made contact with Aegon's side.

Lips twisting up, Aegon dropped his voice. He made a point of nudging at Jace's arm, "If I pranked Daemon, would you want to help?" Hands fisted in his doublet and Aegon cackled as Jace's eyes brightened.

"What are we doing? When?!"

Consequences be damned, watching Daemon walk into the Great Hall, clothes sticking to his body and hair dripping, was a highlight of Aegon's life. Jace had laughed outright, doubling over as Daemon bowed to the king with a flourish.

"Excuse the mess, brother, I seemed to have run into a series of..." Daemon's gaze surveyed the room before narrowing on Aegon, "...unfortunate accidents, on my way here."

He could hear Rhaenyra chastising Jace as he ducked his head to hide a smile. The king was laughing too though, hand pressed to his lips and eyes crinkling as he waved him away, "No apologies necessary, Daemon. *Accidents* do happen."

A stiffled giggle escaped Luke's lips and then Daemon's girls gave in. Even Aemond managed a smirk before their grandfather could turn his sharp glare on them.

By the time everyone stopped laughing, Aegon couldn't actually remember why they'd all been called to court. Nor could the king and they were soon dismissed.

"What did I say about antagonizing Rhaenyra?!" their mother hissed, eyes wide as she dragged him from the room. Aegon groaned, head lulling to the side as she began to fret properly, "Daemon?! Why would you ever target Daemon?!"

"Oh, come on, Mother, it was funny!" Aegon whined, puckering his lips in a pout. Helaena giggled beside him as Daemon walked past. Shoes squishing.

"Hysterical, nephew, truly," Daemon deadpanned, pausing to glower at him. His lips twitched, teeth bared as he grinned, "But my revenge will be far sweeter."

His mother straightened, her grip on his arm bruising. Aegon winced as her shoulders rolled back and her voice sharpened, "Surely, a prince of your stature is above such childishness, Daemon?"

"One would think," Rhaenyra drawled as she approached them, a giggle on her lips as well. Daemon pouted. He tossed his hair back, sending water flying at them before he marched off.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're implying, beloved," Daemon called over his shoulder, head high. Shoes squeaking and squishing with each step.

"Tread lightly, little brother," Rhaenyra warned him, head shaking as she smiled at Daemon's back, "Our uncle is not a graceful loser." Jace snorted and her head turned, eyes narrowing, "And don't think I can't recognize your handprints all over this, Jacaerys Velaryon."

His nephew hummed, arching his brows expectantly as a smirk danced across his lips, "You asked me to try bonding with him, Mother. Does this not count?" Aegon barked out a laugh, ducking his head over his mother's shoulder. Her fingers bit into the fabric of his doublet as Rhaenyra sighed.

She muttered something in Valyrian. A curse that had Jace's brow furrowing. Aegon expected their next lesson would be on swearing as he watched his elder sister curtsy before the queen. Her face pink as she led her children after Daemon. A few errant glances were tossed his way. Baela even managed a grin.

"When did you start spending time with Jacaerys?!" His mother resumed her dragging and Aegon yelped as he stumbled after her. He looked over his shoulder to see Aemond glaring at the floor.

Okay. Maybe he hadn't considered all the consequences.

Chapter Text

He could have gone to his room after his mother's lecture, but Aegon was not in the habit of making himself an easy target. Aemond would still be mad in the morning and by then their grandfather would be busy with the Small Council.

"Welcome, your grace."

Aegon stiffened at the address as he entered the brothel. The woman just smirked, inclining her head forward in a slight bow.

"No need to worry, if you desire discretion, you will have it, my lord," she emphasized the lower address and Aegon swallowed. He nodded sharply.

This was a new brothel, for him anyway. More expensive. Out of the way. The madame led him to a private room, the torches that lit the halls cast shadows over her white dress. Long dark hair fell down her back in a thick curtain.

"We offer a variety of services, is there something in particular that you desire?" She stood in the doorway as he surveyed the room.

It was larger than he was accustomed, than his own bedchamber even. He blinked at the finery - the rich fabrics, silver goblets, the fireplace.

Aegon traced the design on the mantle, carved stone presented the emblems of each of the great houses. A three headed dragon sat in the center, directly over the hearth. Larger than the rest.

"A fire, to start," Aegon's throat bobbed as he turned, tossing a satchel of gold to her. She caught it, but gave it no further attention. "I'll be staying till sunrise."

"Whatever you desire, my lord," she blinked, but waited still. Aegon chewed on his bottom lip, fingers twitching at his side.

Discretion. That was what she'd promised. What this brothel was most well known for, even on the Street of Silk.

"A man," Aegon choked out, avoiding her gaze to trace the mantel once more. He rolled his shoulders back, lying through his teeth, "I don't care what he looks like."

The whore was as good as the room. His grip firm and his lips warm on the back of Aegon's neck. His breath was nearly as warm as the fire burning in front of them. The cock wasn't bad either.

Fingers twisting in the rug beneath him, Aegon's gaze fell to the black fabric wrapped around his forearm. And then it rose to the whore's hand, braced against the mantle as his pace increased.

"Touch-" Aegon bit off, head falling forward as he moaned. The whore slowed his movements and Aegon gasped out, "My arm, touch my arm."

He shuddered as the man wrapped around his back, the warmth of his chest pushing the cold away. A hand wrapped around his forearm as the movements continued.

Aegon gasped and the man grunted. His hand twitched, no doubt able to feel the sharp chill that came over his mark. The damn thing like ice, stabbing through his arm. His grip gave and Aegon buried his face in the rug, pulling his arm to his chest.

The whore rose back up and his thrusts grew harder, deeper. Aegon closed his eyes, letting himself float through the sensations. The touch, the fire, the pleasure coiling in his gut.

"Do you desire anything more, my lord?" the man asked, pressing the whisper into Aegon's flesh as he kissed at his neck once he'd collapsed after his orgasm. His body was still trembling, heart still racing.

But the cold was returning, as if spreading from within, taking hold of his body once more. Aegon whined, curling up beside the fire. His eye fluttered open, staring into the flame.

"Keep me warm," Aegon told him, already asleep by the time the man had wrapped himself around Aegon. He slept deeply once that warmth settled against his back. Joining the other pouring over him from the front. Just enough to make everything bearable. Just enough to ensure he didn't wake until morning.

And when he did, he woke alone. Tucked into the bed. His body clean of the evidence that ought to have dried on his thighs. There were two warming pans on either side of the bed. A fire still roaring across the room.

On the table near the door, his clothes were folded. Washed. Aegon sat up, pushing a hand through his hair as he surveyed the room.

Nothing else was different. The rug by the fireplace was scrunched up. Aegon's memory of his hands fisting in the thick fabric flashed across his mind.

"It is sunrise, my lord," the madame's voice from the doorway pulled his gaze in that direction. She tilted her head, a soft smile on her lips, "You are welcome to stay longer, if you desire more of us."

"No," Aegon shook his head. He slid from the bed, ignoring the dull throbbing in his body. She said nothing as he dressed quickly and then she led him to a sidedoor.

"I hope you were satisfied with the services you received," she bowed her head again, that same slight incline of her head as the night before, this time paired with a quick curtsy.

Aegon nodded shortly as he pulled his hood up. "I'll be back," Aegon told her before he ducked out, sneaking off towards the Dragon Pit. He had time for a short flight before he'd have to return to the keep. Maybe a long one, if he was feeling rebellious.

Rubbing at his arm, his mark throbbed, sharp and demanding like a bruise. Sunfyre shrieked when Aegon walked into his lair. The golden dragon nearly had him stumbling back as he nuzzled his maw against Aegon's chest.

"Yes, yes," Aegon chuckled, wrapping his arms around his dragon as best he could, "We're going flying!" Sunfyre's wings spread out, fluttering as his chest rumbled. Aegon threw his head back, "Dramatic! We went out just the other day, you silly beast!"

Sunfyre whined, pulling back to grumble at him. He nudged Aegon towards his saddle and they were off in moments. Aegon settled against Sunfyre's back, sighing softly to himself as they circled the city.

Inevitably, his eyes fell down to his hands, to his arm. The knot at his wrist dragging his attention back to what was underneath it.

A soulmark. A stamp of bright colors that reflected who he was meant for, who he belong to.

Any doubt that it was Jace was gone now. His nephew's lightest touch, the threat of it above his mark, had sent him spiraling. Crashing. Just the memory of it had him biting his lip.

With a roar, Sunfyre flew them through the remnants of his fire. Aegon groaned. Somehow even that seemed colder than his memory of Jace, of hands in his hair, at his neck. Of fingers grazing his arm.

Aegon whined, pressing his face to golden scales. The gods hated him. It was the only explanation. Obviously, he'd been born to suffer, to be tortured by fate for their amusement.

Sunfyre rumbled beneath him, bucking slightly as they wove between the clouds. Aegon sighed, sitting up properly and tightening his grip in Sunfyre's reigns. With a quick command, they flew out over the Blackwater.

He was already in trouble, he might as well make the most of the freedom he had. If he had to suffer through his grandfather's wrath, Aegon was going to enjoy a few hours in the sky first. Sunfyre screeched and his wings flapped twice as fast. Aegon laughed.

"We only have as long as it will take for Aemond to wake up and stomp his way to the pit!" Aegon giggled as they spun, twisting in the air.

A single wing skimmed the surface of the water, throwing a mist up onto his face. Aegon embraced it, eyes squeezing shut as he sunk into Sunfyre, letting his joy consume him. Letting his joy become Aegon's as well.

It nearly overshadowed the panic and the fear that had settled in his stomach. Nearly. But they were waiting, swirling together, carving out a hole to drag Aegon into later when they returned to the pit. When he caught sight of another gold dragon in the main theater.

Sunfyre was quick to maneuver, gliding into the caverns that led to his lair with ease. They completely avoided the main theater. An absolute win! Until Aegon heard a voice calling his brother's name.

"Uncle Aemond! Wait! Could we-"

"No!" Aemond snapped, his voice sharp and echoing off the earthen walls.

Aegon cringed as he dismounted. Sunfyre shook himself, wings stretching briefly. His nostrils flared, gaze pointed.

"Please!" Luke begged, their voices grew closer as Aegon moved to Sunfyre's side. "I just want to talk! To... to apologize, for whatever it's worth." He worked the ties and buckles that held his saddle loose.

"Well, don't bother," Aemond huffed, but his steps paused. The harsh stomps silent as he nearly spat, "Just because my brother is stupid enough to be friendly with yours doesn't mean I am."

Rude. Aegon wrinkled his nose. He grunted as his saddle came free. It slid off of Sunfyre and he dragged it over to its rack.

"You would've done the same thing!" Luke yelled, his voice twisting as he grew angry, "If it had been me about to hit Aegon with that rock-"

"If you ever tried to hurt Aegon, you'd lose a lot more than an eye!" Aemond cut him off and Aegon froze.

Sunfyre gave a quiet screech, head turning as he settled against the back wall of his lair. He curled up as Aegon took a single step towards the entrance. The passageway had gone quiet.

"I know I can't take it back, that I can't... can't fix it. We shouldn't have ganged up on you about Vhagar, should have... it should have gone differently."

Luke was quieter now, voice shaking as he stumbled over his words. Aegon peaked out of the lair to see Aemond's back as he stood a few yards away. Luke was a few yards past him. Shaking as much as his words were, but he was looking right at Aemond. Gaze focused, face set. Determined.

"I'm sorry," Luke said firmly. He pursed his lips, rolling his shoulders back. "I know it doesn't mean much, and I know it doesn't change anything, but I am."

He started to back away. Luke ducked his head, turning to walk away. Aemond was stiff as a board. Hands fisted at his side.

"It means something," Aemond muttered. Luke stopped. His eyes widened as he looked back. Aemond scoffed, arms crossing, "Not much. But something." Luke's lips twitched up. He nodded mutely and then ran off, as if afraid Aemond might take his words back.

Which, honestly, fair. Aegon had fought with Aemond enough to know he totally could. He was quite vicious when he wanted to be.

"Stop eavesdropping, you fucking idiot," Aemond tossed over his shoulder, glaring at Aegon as he turned, "Grandfather wants to see you."

Chapter Text

The prank with Daemon had many unplanned results. Sure, his grandfather had raged at him for over an hour and his mother had somehow become even *more* neurotic about the time they were spending with Rhaenyra's family. Those would've happened regardless though.

What surprised him was everything else. Aemond was now watching his every interaction with Jace through a squint. The king had announced they were going to have family dinners once a week. And, apparently, his cousins had decided to capitalize on his momentum to prank their father themselves.

"How is taking Dark Sister a prank?!" Aegon pressed his hands against his face as he leaned over the table in front of him. Behind him, Jace arched a brow.

"Well, he made a very funny face when he couldn't find it," Baela shrugged her shoulders. Aegon whined. She was holding the sword in her hand, sheathed and wrapped in a cloth, likely to disguise it as she'd carried it across the castle. "He just got really angry before I had a chance to tell him where it was... and then I panicked."

"It's an ancestral Valyrian sword from before the Doom!" Aegon gestured at it accussingly, eyes wide. Baela hummed, fingers tapping against it nervously.

His cousin was eleven. Aegon was very much struggling to remember that fact as she stood in the middle of his chambers with the evidence of her attempted prank in hand, but she was. Only eleven. And she'd grown up with Daemon so her common sense was obviously extremely warped.

Aegon whirled around, eyebrow arching as Jace startled. His nephew did not have that excuse.

"Why did you bring her *here*?! Are you trying to get me killed?" Aegon spread his arms wide as Jace grimaced. "They're all going to think I stole it if they find it here!"

That he was not one of Daemon's cherished daughters went unsaid. Baela could probably pop back into their chambers with the sword and receive little more than a stern word.

Gods, could he be executed for this? Aegon was pretty sure he could be executed for this.

"She woke me up!" Jace defended, hand splayed out across his chest, eyes wide. His shoulders hunched, "You were the first person I thought of who might be able to help?"

Fuck. Aemond was right. Aegon was an idiot. He'd started this. Daemon was going to kill him. Even if he didn't get caught with Dark Sistsr, he'd be blamed for inspiring the prince's precious Baela.

"I mean, she has to put it back, obviously, but how do we do that when Daemon is stomping all over looking for it?" Jace continued, starting to pace as his hands gestured vaguely in front of him.

Aegon straightened. Jace paused, eyes narrowing on him. Tilting his head, Jace took a step closer before poking at Aegon's chest, eyebrow arching.

"You know the secret passageways better than anyone else in this castle."

"That is entirely speculative," Aegon corrected him, finger rising to wag in Jace's face, "For all you know, Daemon could know them better than me."

He would, in fact, bet on that, given Aegon only started searching for the various entrances and exits a few years ago. Aegon was also fairly positive that Daemon had been the one to show Rhaenyra the secret passage in her old chambers that she'd in turn showed him when he was small.

A reminder that there could always be someone watching, or listening.

"Which room does he keep it in?" Aegon crumbled beneath Jace's hopeful expression and turned his gaze on Baela.

She grinned sheepishly, "Their bedroom."

"You owe me," Aegon groaned, head falling forward. Jace chuckled. His hand rose to squeeze at his shoulder and Aegon bit his lip as the warmth spread down his arm.

"I'll give you a spot on my Small Council when I'm king," Jace nudged him towards the door and Aegon shot a glare over his shoulder.

He led them down the stairs, whispering very strict instructions to his cousin not to drop Dark Sister. Threat of execution or not, Aegon was not searching the Black Cells. He wasn't positive that was where some of the ledges dropped to, but they were the deepest part of the castle as far as he was aware.

They couldn't use the entrance he'd shown Jace when returning from the Dragon Pit. Too many opportunities for them to get caught with the sword out in the open. With no other good options, Aegon headed for the one nearest to his room. A section of the wall behind the stairs could be opened with some careful maneuvering of a specific stone.

Unfortunately, this meant they would need to weave through his mother's chambers to get to the other wing. Hidden within the walls. Able to hear every word spoken. Every sound.

He paused a few steps inside. The wall closed behind Baela and she huffed, "Why'd we stop?"

Throat bobbing, Aegon glanced backwards. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Jace and Baela fit better in the small space than him. Turned sideways, Baela could even hold the sword between her chest and the wall.

They could use these passages without him. Could spy on his mother's chambers, his whole family. And even if they didn't, Aegon had no idea what was happening inside their chambers right now. Who was awake, what they were doing.

Jace pressed a hand to his back, fingers gripping at his doublet. "We won't tell anyone what we hear. Promise." His head turned back to Baela. "Right?" She nodded sharply.

"I don't want to know what anyone else is doing anyway," Baela wrinkled her nose. Aegon snorted. He blew out a breath.

"Keep quiet, if we can hear them, they can hear us, usually," Aegon reminded them, voice dropping to a whisper. They both nodded and he started walking.

The hand in his doublet remained. A solid warmth at his back. Constant and consistent. Comforting, even, as they passed by Daeron's room and his mother's sobbing leaked through the stone around them. His shoulders tensed despite himself. Baela inhaled sharply, her eyes wide when he turned his head.

Aegon pursed his lips. His cousin's eyes were pale, almost reflective as the tinest bit of light filtered through the slivers in the stonework around them. He blinked and kept moving, looking forward as they came to the first fork.

"How can you not be the least bit curious?!" Aemond's voice came through crisp and clear as they passed Helaena's room. His steps were regular as he paced the length. A habit Aegon had teased him for on several occassions.

"If he wanted us to know, he would tell us," Helaena hummed, significantly fainter than Aemond. His brother scoffed. "At least we know it's not me."

That got a proper snort and Aemond's steps stopped, "As if there was ever actually a chance of you and Aegon being soulmates." Aegon bit his lip to stop from laughing.

He'd never agreed with his brother more in his life.

"I think they have to be someone with Targaryen blood though," Aemond resumed his pacing and the hand in his doublet twitched. "I'm pretty sure there's a dragon in his mark."

Aegon might have tried to move a bit faster after that, but his brother's voice carried far too well. Practically echoing off the stone. Or maybe that was just in his head...

"That's probably why the king is waiting to announce it, to make sure he's their soulmate too. No one's gotten away with multiple marriages since the conquest."

Jace stopped, hand tugging on Aegon's doublet. He turned back. His nephew was squinting at him, head tilted. Aegon grabbed his wrist and dragged him onward. Baela snatched Jace's opposite hand to keep up. He only slowed when he could no longer hear even the faintest rumbling of Aemond's voice.

"What did Aemond mean by that? About your soulmate having a different mark," Jace demanded, tugging on his sleeve now, with his wrist in Aegon's hand. His left hand.

His mark was practically throbbing. Pulsing with heat. He dropped Jace's wrist, snatching his hand to his chest as the tingling spread over his body. Aegon gulped down air, pausing at the next junction to breathe.

Baela huffed, tone sharp, "Aren't soulmarks suppose to match? Like my father and Rhaenyra's?"

"They match?" Aegon braced himself on the side of the passage. He leaned into Jace's hand as he rubbed absently at his back. "I've never seen Daemon's mark, and Nyra only showed me hers once."

"Yeah, two black dragons, coiled together," Jace described them, a faint disgust in his voice as he added, "They're almost shapped like a heart, with the wings."

Yeah. Fair. That was gross.

"They're, uh, suppose to be representative of how you see the person, so no, they don't usually match I don't think," Aegon told them, inhaling slowly.

"But what about what Aemond said, about them being different people?" Jace crossed his arms, brow furrowing. He was looking at Aegon's arm now. Eyes hard. Focused.

Aegon reflexively hid the offending forearm behind his back. Three layers of cloth or not, he wasn't risking it. Vaguely, he contemplated smothering his brother in his sleep. Or maybe himself. Aemond was a light sleeper after all and Aegon could just drink till he passed out on his pillow.

"Visenya's soulmate was Aegon, but Aegon's was Rhaenys," Aegon explained instead, pointedly looking over the diverging paths rather than Jace. Or Baela. Who was now grumbling about her father leaving stuff out.

Neither of them pushed him. Generally, he tried not to think about the possibility of Jace having someone else as a soulmate. That'd probably be better, really, overall. But his chest twisted at the thought, his body's temperature dropping. He shivered.

Jace pressed his hand to Aegon's back again. He slipped it beneath the doublet even, fingers fisting in his shirt. Aegon inhaled sharply, shuddering as Jace's heat sunk into his skin.

Fuck. If he kept doing that, Aegon was going to lose it. He pressed his hand to his mouth and turned them down the path he was fairly positive led to Rhaenyra's wing of the castle.

Like. 90% sure. Mostly. They only had to back track twice. One of which was not his fault, the kitchen was making lemon cakes and the smell had been very distracting.

"Did you ask the kids about it?" Rhaenyra was just visible through the slats in one of the walls in their apartments. She had her feet propped up as she lounged on a couch, hand rubbing at her stomach.

"I would, but they have all mysteriously made themselves disappear," Daemon snapped, shoulders hunched as he paced. Snarling, he gestured wildly, "They've hidden it from me, I'm sure. Probably a joke of some sort. Exactly the sort of thing I would've done!"

Rhaenyra laughed, head shaking as she smirked at him, "Perhaps. Or maybe they just heard you stomping around like a dragon and decided it was safer to spend their day elsewhere." Daemon growled.

They found the room easily enough after that. The challenge was finding an exit. Of which there appeared to be only one. A stone door near some of the decorative vents in the main hall of the apartments.

"This is the closest one, I think," Aegon paused beside the latch, hand hovering as he glanced at Baela, "Ready?" Her eyes widened, head shaking. Aegon rolled his eyes and gestured back towards Rhaenyra, "He's distracted!"

Jace grabbed the sword, grinning wickedly, "I'll do it." Aegon squinted at him. His nephew just kept smiling at him. Aegon pulled the latch anyway.

His nephew did not take the sword to Daemon's room. No. He was far smarter than that. Jace placed the sword on a long table in the hall and reached up to pull the map of the Valyrian Freehold off the wall above it. The sword was then hung from the map's hook before Jace disappeared down the hall with the map.

Baela giggled, hands clasped over her mouth. Aegon grinned and leaned towards her, "For the record, now it's a prank." Her shoulders shook.

"I'll remember for next time," Baela whispered as Jace raced back towards them. Aegon hit the latch again and Jace slipped into the passage, chest heaving. He leaned back against the stone door.

"How long till he notices you think?" Jace asked, eyebrow quirking up. Aegon tugged on his arm, matching his grin with his own. They settled behind the vents, watching the hallway.

Daemon's voice carried from the withdrawing room as he continued to snap and snarl, just like a dragon. Aegon smirked at the image that inspired in his head. Rhaenyra's laughter drifted out too, fainter, lighter. It was her who appeared in the hallway first. Her lips spreading wide in a broad grin of her own.

"Daemon, my beloved," Rhaenyra called out in Valyrian, voice already teasing as she stared at the wall where Valyria had once stared back.

When Daemon appeared beside her, his entire body snapped to attention. Nose wrinkling, he frowned as Rhaenyra started to pat his back.

"Exactly as you would've done, you said, right?" Rhaenyra mocked him, head falling back in a proper cackle as Daemon marched up to the wall to snatch Dark Sister from her new perch.

"I owe your brother two now," Daemon huffed, arms crossing.

Rhaenyra shook her head at him, brows lowering, "I don't believe for a second Egg would have thought of this." Daemon groused, hunching forward. Her arms crossed, "Daemon..."

"Fine! But I still owe him for last week!" Daemon turned, nose in the air, to stalk towards their room. Rhaenyra followed after him, muttering curses in Valyrian under her breath.

Jace snorted, hand flying up to muffle his laughter a moment later. Rhaenyra paused. Her head turned. A smirk twitched up on her lips.

She continued down the hall, calling over her shoulder, still in Valyrian, "You better not have damaged my map, Jacaerys."

"I didn't," Jace raised his voice to speak through the vents, preening as the Valyrian flowed from his lips naturally. Rhaenyra paused again, lashes fluttering. This time, she turned, hair falling over her shoulder. Her smile was bright.

"You've been practicing."

Aegon nudged the two of them towards the door. He hit the latch, hiding behind the wall as Baela and Jace slipped out to join Rhaenyra in the hallway.

Their conversation was cheerful. Rhaenyra slowed her Valyrian down only slightly. Baela's was accented, her childhood in Pentos lingering on every word. Aegon smiled to himself as he slipped through the passages towards his mother's chambers. Jace could match them both word for word.

The farther from Rhaenyra's wing he got, the colder he became. All the warmth that had come from Jace's proximity, from his hand at at Aegon's back, his voice in Aegon's ear, it all slipped away. Rapidly rising from his bones with every step.

When he came to a junction, he stopped. One led to a ladder and, eventually, the city. There'd be a price if he went to the Dragon Pit. Seven hells worth, according to his grandfather. He took the ladder.

"Mysaria," Aegon greeted the madame as he walked through the back door. She smiled at him, inclining her head forward as she had every night since the first. Dark hair falling forward.

"Welcome back, my lord." She waved him towards his regular room, "What do you desire tonight?"

Rubbing at his neck, Aegon let his hood fall back. He kept his gaze forward. Avoiding her eyes as he made his request, "Someone... someone with dark hair perhaps?"

"Man or woman this time?" Mysaria asked as they entered his room. The fire was already going. He blushed, biting at his lip.

"A man. Younger than last time. More... more my age."

She hummed, "I believe we can offer that." The door clicked as she left and Aegon scrubbed his hands down his face. Whining softly.

Subtlety was not his strength.

Chapter Text

There was something wrong with him. Deeply. Innately. Seriously wrong. Aegon curled up on the bed as his breathing returned to normal. The brunet on top of him kissed down his sternum as the one beside him sucked on his neck.

Months. He'd been coming here for months. Mysaria didn't even ask him what he wanted anymore, just waved him into his room. A room that was always ready for him. A room in which he often walked in to find two men waiting for him. Smiling and willing.

Aegon spent his afternoons with Jace in his actual bedchamber back at the Red Keep. Nominally still practicing Valyrian with his nephew despite the younger boy's increasing fluency.

And then every night he came here. To whores who he was fairly positive he'd actually called by his nephew's name on at least one occassion.

"Do you want to sleep now, my lord?" The man on top of him slid off, hand grazing downward, voice husky, "Or would you like to go another round?"

Hand squeezing in the pillow behind his head, Aegon turned on his side. They curled around him, limbs weaving with his own. His eyes fell closed as the man in front mouthed at his chest.

"Fuck me," Aegon breathed out, begging as a hand squeezed at his ass. He buried his face in the pillow. His soulmark was numb, the tingly sort of numbness that bordered on pain.

That was better, better than the way it throbbed when Jace was with him. The pulsing that had his fingers twitching towards his nephew's more and more. The constant pressure that released when Jace touched him, released with shuddering gasps and moans that were getting harder and harder to hide.

Laying with his head in Jace's lap was somehow the highlight of his day, and the cruelest torture. He was warm then, comfortable. An ease settled in his chest, his body relaxing even as his mind raced with all the things Rhaenyra might do to him, if she found out. What Daemon would do.

His grandfather. Gods, Otto would murder him if he knew he so much as smiled at Jace, let alone what he was doing. What he wanted to do.

Back arching, Aegon's mind went blank finally as he was breached. The cock inside of him was thick, dragging across his prostate with each thrust, pushing his own cock into the tight ass of the man in front of him.

Vaguely, he registered a leg curling around his side, the ankle hooking on his shoulder. Aegon focused on the sensations, on the warmth, the pleasure slowly building. They were moaning, mouths moving over his neck, his shoulders. More warmth, a pressure against his skin, setting his nerves off in just the way he wanted.

"Jace~" Aegon whined into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut and tears clinging to his lashes. He came with a violent shudder, nearly screaming.

The rest was a haze. He didn't have to ask them to stay anymore. Aegon drifted off to sleep cocooned in the warmth of other people's bodies and woke in the morning alone, the bed kept toasty by dueling warming pans and a blazing fire.

With a groan, Aegon sat up. He blinked. Slowly, his gaze narrowed on the window. The light was brighter than normal. He scrambled out of the bed.

The sun was higher. It was past sunrise. Far past.

"Fuck!" Aegon pulled his clothes on quickly, chest heaving. He froze, shirt halfway over his head, as he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His hair was blue. A bright, almost seafoam shade of blue-green that had a squeak escaping his lips.

The door opened. Mysaria slipped inside, smile serene. He swallowed thickly, taking a step back.

"Compliments of your uncle, I'm afraid," Mysaria tilted her head, gaze flicking over his hair. Aegon stiffened.

"Is this a threat?" He croaked, dropping his shirt as he took another step away from her. His head snapped around. They were alone. As alone as one could ever assume to be in a brothel.

But Daemon knew he was here, could know what he'd been asking for, what name he'd been muffling in his pillow.

"No, your grace," Mysaria furrowed her brow and he flinched at the address. She clasped her hands, sighing heavily, "Prince Daemon referred to it as his 'revenge.'" She inclined her head towards the bed, "He also offered to pay off your tab, so you are now covered for the next month."

Throat bobbing, Aegon just stared at her, frozen. For once, he couldn't feel the chill as his body cooled, exposed to the air and far from any source of heat. Every inch of him was taut, trembling. Nerves prickling as if he were being stabbed by one of the maester's tiny needles a thousand times over.

"He seemed to think you would understand his meaning," Mysaria furrowed her brow, the most expressive he had ever seen her. Her eyes rolled, "Not that it would be the first time Daemon made unfounded assumptions."

"You... you know Daemon?" Aegon asked, eyes fluttering as he tried to remember every word he'd ever spoken to her. His stomach dropped. He was dead. So dead.

Jace hated Daemon, yeah, but the feeling was not mutual. Who knew what the man would do?! Probably not even him!

Mysaria raised her hands up, palms out as Aegon inhaled sharply, "He knows nothing of your preferences. I did not tell him you come here. We have been friends a long time, and he approached me last night for assistance in this... prank, but I assure you, it was not from me that he learned of your presence at my establishment."

"Prank?" Aegon's shoulders sagged. He groaned, chin dropping forward, "This is *that* revenge?! It's been months!"

"Daemon's memory is long, about certain things," Mysaria chuckled, smile twitching at her lips again. Aegon huffed. He snatched his shirt up from the floor and tugged it over his head.

Of course Daemon chose now to get back at him. Months later. When the closest Aegon had been to a prank was Jace telling him about Baela swapping Dark Sister with one of the paintings in the nursery. It had taken Daemon two days to notice apparently.

As he pulled his cloak over his shoulders, Aegon scowled at her, "So why didn't you wake me at sunrise like normal?" She arched a brow, chin lowering as she looked at him pointedly. "Oh. Sorry."

"You, unlike another prince I know, pay in advance, so I simply substracted it from your uncle's attempt at bribery and let you sleep," Mysaria drawled. His fingers fumbled with his clasp and she stepped forward, clipping it herself. "Should you desire to annoy your uncle... ask him about the egg he stole, purely because he wanted his brother's attention."

Aegon's mouth fell open, eyes wide as she stepped back. Mysaria's expression melted back into the serenity he was accustomed to, and then she opened the door.

"I believe you are late, my lord."

Hood drawn up, Aegon slipped from the brothel. Halfway down the next alley, he was cornered by two goldcloaks. He groaned.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" Aegon snarled as they flanked him. They smirked and he let them drag him to the Red Keep. Through the gate and all the way into Maegor's even.

"Our orders were quite specific," one of them coughed when Aegon tried to head for his chambers. Their grip tightened on his arms. He went limp.

They had to actually drag him into the private dining hall near the king's chambers. He could hear the voices. Heard them stop too.

Tugging on his hood, Aegon whined as the knights dropped him. He kept a firm grip on the hood as Daemon's barking laughter drew closer.

"I hate you," Aegon groused as the hood was ripped from his head. Daemon pulled him to his feet. He dismissed the goldcloaks with a quick nod and then turned his full attention to Aegon. Smirking. The bastard.

"The blue suits you, nephew," Daemon wiggled his brows. He tugged on a loose strand of Aegon's now very colorful hair. He clicked his tongue, "I was aiming for green though."

Another laugh swelled, preceeded by a snort and Aegon's head snapped around to glare at Jace. His nephew hid his smile behind his goblet.

"It's Velaryon blue, uncle, that's better than green," Jace reasoned, shrugging his shoulders. Aegon flushed. He ducked his head to hide his own smile.

"Come, eat, you must be hungry," Daemon clapped his back, shoving him towards the table.

It was not just his nephew at the table unfortunately. Or the king, who seemed just as amused as his brother. Rhaenyra and her entire brood were there, save Joffrey and the baby. Each and every one of them stiffling their laughter.

But on the opposite side was his mother. His siblings. And Otto fucking Hightower. There was significantly less amusement from that end of the table.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Rhaena asked, wrinkling her nose as she tilted her head. Aegon veered off to sit by his brother. Daemon coughed, ducking his head as he returned to his own seat.

"I had thought you would arrive earlier," Daemon drawled, leaning back in his seat. Eyebrows arched, "The goldcloaks had orders to bring you straight here, rather than let you take your usual detour to the Dragon Pit."

Eyes narrowing on his uncle, Aegon swiped a roll from Aemond's plate. He bit into it, ignoring his uncle's unasked question.

"Oversleep, did you?" Daemon asked outright, leaning forward. His smirk was still firmly in place, but the humor had left his eyes, replaced by something dark. Hard. "I have warned you that this *habit* of yours leaves you very vulnerable, Aegon."

"And I've told you that you are the last person who should be judging my habits," Aegon snipped back, taking another bite as he resolutely ignored his mother's stare. The king was squinted at him now too though, and Rhaenyra.

Jace groaned, head falling back against his chair, "Don't make me agree with Daemon."

"Too late," Aegon stuck his tongue out at his nephew. Daemon straightened as Jace snarled properly, arms crossing over his chest.

"Which habit is this?" Aemond leaned forward to catch his eyes, narrowing his gaze.

Aegon stole his goblet and turned his head away as he drank from it. He tapped his finger on the side, "So, what time is it anyway?"

"You arrived, dragged by goldcloaks, and late, to family dinner," Otto drawled, lips pursing tightly as he folded his hands over his lap. Beside him, Alicent fidgeted.

"You do have quite the talent for dramatics, my boy," Viserys chuckled, smiling broadly across the table. He winked at Rhaenyra, "I think we know which side of the family he gets that from." She chuckled, head falling forward.

His mother was still staring at him. Aegon was running out of places to look, between her and Aemond. The king and Otto. Even Rhaenyra. His gaze settled on Daemon. The man raising his glass to him with a smirk.

"Well..." Aegon cleared his throat, shoulders rolling back, "At least I've never stolen an egg because my brother was ignoring me."

Four people choked. Daemon one of them, spraying wine over his food. The king gaped at his brother and Rhaenyra was already giggling, "Is *that* why you did it?"

The fourth was his mother, who was now pressing her hands to the sides of her face in what Aegon could only assume was some sort of self-soothing attempt as it was exactly what Helaena did when there were too many noises.

As it was, his sister was practically vibrating in her seat, eyes flicking around from person to person as Daemon attempted to sputter out a defense even as Rhaenyra and Viserys both shot them down emphatically.

The attention was, finally, off of him. Aegon took a slow breath and sunk back in his seat. Beside him, Aemond straightened, whispering sharply, "You were sleeping in a fucking brothel weren't you?!"

"Shush," Aegon smacked at his arm, shuffling in his seat. He glanced at his mother. Her head was now bowed close to Otto's as he spoke to her. Likely some commentary about his abysmal behavior. Aegon sighed, "I do it all the time. It's fine."

Eye nearly bugging out of his head, Aemond growled, "It is most certainly not!" His brother ducked close, hissing, "You could be killed-"

"Huh? That's what Jace said."

"Or robbed!" Aemond continued.

Aegon toasted his brother with his own goblet, "Daemon made that point first."

"You are making me agree with Daemon?!" Aemond slapped a hand on the table and everyone glanced their way again. Aegon wrinkled his nose.

"Why is everyone so against agreeing with me tonight?" Daemon spread his hands wide, goblet cupped in his palm. He gestured towards Aegon, "Obviously, I am correct."

"Egg," Aegon said, just as Rhaenyra did. Her lips twitched up, giggling again as Daemon groused.

Arms crossing, Daemon sat back in his seat with a huff, chin rising, "It was an emotional time! I will not have it held against me!"

The king scoffed, pointing with his own cup, "If that is to be the standard, I don't believe we can hold anything you do against you, brother. You're always emotional."

"Agreed," Rhaenyra raised her goblet in salute before taking a drink. Beside her, Rhaena and Baela mimicked her. Jace downed his entire goblet before slamming it on the table.

Daemon stared at Luke and Aegon watched as his younger nephew swirled the contents of his goblet while making direct eye contact with his mother's husband. Aegon leaned closer to Aemond, "If he drinks, can we forgive him?"

"No," Aemond flicked his forehead. But his lips twitched up. "A point in his favor, perhaps." Aegon hummed, leaning forward on the table.

Luke made a few exaggerated thinking sounds, hmming and hawing as Daemon's eyes narrowed. Slowly, he raised the goblet to his lips. Daemon's hands flew into air and he sulked properly in his seat when Luke finally drank, finishing his cup with a flourish before holding it out to a servant for a refill.

"It would seem you have a point, your grace, about the dramatics running in our family," Helaena spoke softly, smiling as the room filled with laughter. Even Otto joined in this time, raising his own glass in toast to Helaena's words.

A roar broke through the laughter, pouring in from a nearby window. Heads turned. Eyes fluttered.

Every dragonrider in the city was currently sat at the table.

"Grandmother!" Luke jumped up, running for the door. Baela and Rhaena were quick to follow, laughter bright. Jace glanced once at his mother, waiting for a quick nod from her before he followed after them.

Aegon turned his head to look at his brother, leaning on the arm of his chair. Aemond twitched, fingers drumming on the table.

"So... you don't want to see the Red Queen in person again? Perhaps up close?" Aegon tilted his head, squinting at his brother. Aemond shoved him away and rose from his seat.

"Shut up!" Aemond called over his shoulder as he walked quickly through the doorway. No doubt already using his long strides to catch up to their nephews. Aegon doubled over, cackling.

His mother cleared her throat. Aegon stiffened. He straightened in his seat as the familiar clip of her shoes sounded on the floor.

"Helaena, my sweet, why don't you join the others in greeting Princess Rhaenys?" Alicent's voice was smooth and when Aegon tilted his head back, he found his mother was standing directly behind his chair. A carefully constructed neutrality plastered on her face.

The queen. Poised to attack.

If it were Aemond, he would've grabbed her wrist to keep her there, a shield. But Helaena was not their brother, so he let her rise. Down the table, his grandfather was leaning on his elbows, hands clasped beneath his chin. Even the king was looking at him again, an eyebrow arched.

He was surrounded on all sides. Outnumbered. He never should have left that fucking bed.

"Now, Aegon," his mother took a breath and looked down at him the moment Helaena was gone, "What habit was your uncle referring to?"

His only comfort was that Daemon and Rhaenyra looked just as uncomfortable as he felt. They, however, were not the ones being interrogated by the queen. Nor were they distracted enough to ignore it.

"It seems your eldest has a preference for sleeping in brothels," Daemon answered for him and Aegon's chin dropped. He glared at his uncle as his mother shrieked, completely unable to form words.

"Aegon..." Viserys pulled a hand down his face. Otto's jaw was clenched so tight Aegon was nervous he might actually break it.

With a whine, Aegon dropped his head to the table and cursed his uncle. Every insult he knew in Valyrian he used. Enough to make even his sister's face burn red and the king to say his name again, with considerably more emotion behind it this time.

Chapter Text

Rhaenys Targaryen was not Aegon's favorite person by any stretch, but he was re-evaluating that the moment a servant arrived to hand the king a letter from the woman herself. She arrived in King's Landing, assured Jace that she would stick around the week or so left before his nameday, and then immediately swept every person with any authority over him into an emergency Small Council meeting.

Maybe she was his favorite person in the world.

Unfortunately, her powers to work miracles did not extend to his brother.

"How long have you been sleeping in brothels?!" Aemond slammed his door open and Aegon jumped, dropping his shirt for the second time that day. He scrambled for the fabric, trying to cover his forearm as Aemond stalked into the room.

"I cannot answer that question safely," Aegon joked, holding his arm behind his back as he took a step back for every one that Aemond took forward.

Eventually, he hit a wall. Or, a window, technically. His favorite window, but that was unimportant unless he wanted to seriously consider jumping from it.

His brother wasn't quite *that* intimidating. Yet.

"When?" Aemond demanded, nostrils flaring. He yanked his eyepatch off. His glower somehow even more effective with the sapphire than without.

"Driftmark," Aegon admitted, ducking his head to avoid Aemond's gaze. His brother stiffened. "I, it was just every once in a while, after we got back. You know how grandfather was. Sleeping up here was just... difficult, sometimes."

Aemond rolled his shoulders back, arms crossing, "And now?"

He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd slept in here. Catnaps maybe, with Jace rambling in his ear.

"Pretty sure I sleep in your room more often than this one," Aegon swallowed, forcing his head up with a grimace. Aemond exhaled, nostrils flaring. "You know how grandfather is."

"You could stay in mother's apartments with the rest of us," Aemond stomped his foot, hands flying out, "A brothel-"

"Raises fewer questions," Aegon finished for him, chin rising sharply. His brother let out a frustrated scream, whipping around to pace Aegon's room.

Stomp, really. If his brother actually knew any Valyrian curses, he'd probably be using them. A memory bubbled up, sitting in Rhaenyra's old chambers, playing with a wooden dragon after one of her Valyrian lessons. During, really.

She paced like this too. Only slightly less stompy. Rhaenyra had been biting at her lip, tearing it and her fingernails to shreds, a hand hovering over her stomach. Muttering and cursing, all in Valyrian. All of it incredibly amusing to Aegon at the time.

"Do you think, if we'd asked, Rhaenyra might've convinced the king to let Daeron stay?"

Aemond stopped short, eyes fluttering. Aegon slouched against the wall. He tilted his head, eyebrow arching.

"It wasn't so bad, before the Hightowers took him. Rhaenyra taught me Valyrian even, you and Daeron played with Jace and Luke sometimes. Mother was... fretful, but... not like now."

"She didn't help us on Driftmark," Aemond's throat bobbed, head shaking, "And she could've... could've done it anyway. He was her brother too."

Shoulders sagging, Aegon tilted his head back. He nodded mutely. Aemond was right. Even if he did have a few pleasant memories. Even if...

"It's Jace isn't it?" Aemond asked, lips pursing as Aegon dropped his head back down. He blinked and Aemond's gaze dropped to his arm, still tucked behind his back.

Eyes wide, Aegon tried to speak. Nothing came out. Not a sound. Aemond crossed the room. He yanked Aegon's arm out. Aegon winced as his hand scrapped against the stone.

He didn't stop Aemond from unwrapping his forearm. Didn't stop him from revealing the green dragon or the red and black seahorse. Didn't even stop him from flicking his thumb over the mark, though it had a shot of ice stabbing at his nerves.

Whimpering, Aegon slumped sideways. Aemond dropped his arm and they both slid down the wall to the floor.

"You can't tell anyone..." Aegon pulled his knees up. He held his arm to his chest, blinking away a few tears before he looked at his brother.

"The king thinks it'll fix everything, doesn't he?" Aemond stared, eye wide as it flicked from Aegon's arm to his face and back. "That's why he broke your betrothal to Helaena."

With a scoff, Aegon nodded, head tipping back again. Gaze locked on the ceiling, he let the tears just fall, "Yeah. As if Rhaenyra would ever want me to... to marry her son." He laughed wetly, "As if grandfather would ever let that happen."

"He likes you though," Aemond offered weakly, bumping his arm. Aegon shook his head.

"I'm his uncle, the one who teaches him Valyrian and plays pranks on the twat who married his mother. That's... that's not the same, Aem, that's not..." he ducked his head, looking at his arm.

Aemond shoved him properly that time, dumping him on his side, "Shut up. You teach me Valyrian too, but you don't see me climbing up here every day just to talk to you for a couple of hours."

"You... you know about that?" Aegon sniffed, wiping a this face as Aemond rolled his eyes.

"The only problem with Jace being your soulmate is Rhaenyra, not you," Aemond told him, voice sharp, eye narrowing. Aegon's lips twitched up. "He's not good enough for Helaena, but he's... not horrible, so it's fine."

"Better than Luke?" Aegon teased, sitting back up. Aemond snapped at him, pushing him right back onto the floor.

A small scuffle later, Aegon was left sprawled out on his floor, his shirt tucked under his head and Aemond's head resting on his thigh. His brother sighed.

"Maybe... maybe it could still happen, if... if grandfather's right and he actually manages to put you on the throne. Jace could-"

"He wouldn't," Aegon lifted his arm in the air. He traced his soulmark with his opposite hand. "He'd never forgive me, if I stole his birthright. Not to mention..."

Rhaenyra would have to die. His mother never said that. She wrung her hands, certain that Rhaenyra could be reasoned with eventually. Convinced.

But his grandfather was ruthless. He'd leave no strings. No chances.

"They'd be declared bastards. All of them. Maybe even the baby." Aegon whispered. He let his arm drop. Aemond squeezed his hand.

A knock sounded at the door. Aegon scrambled to rewrap his arm. Tugging the knot secure with his teeth as he grabbed a shirt from his wardrobe.

"Your grace, the king has requested your presence," Cole stood at the threshold, jaw clenched and twitching as he looked right at Aegon. Grabbing a doublet, Aegon nodded. He fastened the doublet as he followed Cole to the Small Council room.

"Mother?" Aegon's eyes snapped to her face, the stricken expression. Eyes wide, cheeks flushed. There were tears threatening to fall from her lashes. "What's going on?"

His gaze turned to the rest of the table, to the king. Viserys had his hands clasped in front of his face, but his frown was still visible, pulling every line on his face down with it.

"Lord Corlys has requested assistance in the Stepstones. Dragonriders, specifically. At least one, preferably two." Otto spoke up, spine straight. He inclined his head towards Daemon, "The prince has agreed to go, but..."

"There is... tension, between Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon," the king sighed, hands falling to his lap as he leaned back.

Aegon glanced at his uncle. He sat between Rhaenyra and Rhaenys on one side of the table. All three of them were tense, shoulders back. Rhaenys had her jaw clenched. Daemon his lips pursed.

"I suggested Vhagar, of course," Otto continued and Aegon's head snapped around. His mother squeezed her eyes shut, hands wringing in her lap.

She'd have no nails left at this rate. If Aemond went-

"Aemond is too young. It doesn't matter how experienced the dragon is, he's still learning," Rhaenyra cut through the air, chin high. Aegon stared at her.

"Laena always said Vhagar was a proper beast, difficult to command, I highly doubt a child could manage her in a combat situation," Daemon tacked on, jaw twitching as Rhaenys inhaled sharply beside him.

The Queen That Never Was nodded her agreement, turning to look at the king, her voice sharp as she spoke, "On this, I agree with Rhaenyra."

"The only other option is, of course, you," Otto sighed, waving a hand as he gestured towards Aegon. The table all looked at him and he straightened reflexively. He met his mother's gaze.

She'd said nothing. Even now, with tears streaming down her face, she made no noise.

"Aegon is only sixteen-"

"He is an experienced dragonrider. Anyone who has seen him fly knows he has full control of his beast," Otto cut Rhaenyra off, brow furrowing.

"Daemon would be the best suited for this-"

Otto snorted, head shaking, "More likely to turn the Sea Snake to the other side than to help him win." Otto looked at the king, "Aegon is no younger than many of the men fighting for Lord Corlys. He is the same age that Ser Laenor was when he provided this same assistance to his father during the last conflict."

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes on him, lips a firm line, but it was Rhaenyra she glared at as his sister spoke up once more.

"Laenor was Lord Corlys' son. He had the man's support. He had Daemon. Aegon would be there alone-"

"You are certainly not implying that Lord Corlys would fail to look after the prince properly?" Rhaenys snapped at her and Rhaenyra turned her head, hand fisting on top of the table.

"I am saying there is a difference between looking out for a son and looking out for a prince," Rhaenyra said shortly, "We all know Lord Corlys cherished his children more than anything, save perhaps you, Princess Rhaenys. Aegon is not his son."

The table went quiet a moment. Viserys leaned forward, hands covering his face as he rubbed at his temples. Otto opened his mouth, but the king silenced him with a finger. He turned, almost his entire body, to look at the queen.

"Alicent, you know the boys best," the king began, head inclining towards Aegon as he smiled at her, "Which do you-"

"I should go," Aegon interrupted him, taking a step closer to the table. He swallowed thickly and leveled his gaze on the king's. "I've seen Aemond with Vhagar more than anyone. She's more likely to burn Lord Corlys and his ships when Aemond is upset. He's like her hatchling. Vhagar reacts to his emotions, not his commands. He can't even shout at me with her around."

The king nodded sharply, rising to his feet, "Then you will leave in the morning for the Stepstones. Rhaenys will provide you the instructions from Lord Corlys."

A letter was pushed into his hand as Rhaenys left. Hands squeezed at his shoulder as the rest of the Small Council filtered out. Until eventually it was just him and his mother. And the king.

"I can't-" she cracked, barely speaking as she sobbed. Alicent pressed a hand to her lips. Aegon darted across the room, wrapping his arms around her as she cried. "I can't lose another son!"

"I'll be fine, Mother, I promise," Aegon whispered in her ear. He locked eyes with the king over her head. His gaze shook, his lips pulled down in a frown once more, but he wasn't really looking at him. He never was.

His mother's hands clawed at his arm, pulling him tighter against her. Aegon bowed his head, curling around her. Alicent sobbed into his chest and he recited every empty platitute he could think of, a letter crumpled in his hand that seemed to weigh as much as Sunfyre, the way it sat in his grip.

"We'll both come back. Me and Daeron. I'll even write you, just like he does." She only sobbed harder. The king didn't say anything.

Chapter Text

It was Daemon who escorted him to the Dragon Pit in the morning. They rode in a cart. His uncle opened his mouth several times, leaning forward, rolling his shoulders back. He never managed to say anything.

"Corlys is a good man," Daemon finally managed as they arrived, clearing his throat as Aegon paused with his hand on the door, "Should it ever... if you need anything, ask him. He'll do what he can."

Aegon nodded mutely and pushed open the door. His uncle followed him out, standing stiffly beside him as the dragonkeepers wrangled Sunfyre out of his lair. He'd been outfitted with a new saddle. Or, new to them anyway.

The leather was decently worn, but there were guards in the front for the legs. Extra straps. A different style pommel.

"You'll be provided a sword, I'm sure," Daemon nodded towards the pommel, "Should you need to dismount quickly, this style will allow you to do it one-handed, so you can draw a sword."

He rocked backwards, hands clasped behind his back. Aegon watched him.

"I doubt you'll need it," Daemon smiled tightly, ducking his head as he rocked forward, "With any luck, you'll spend your whole time in the sky."

"Is that... better?" Aegon asked, brow furrowing. Daemon froze.

His eyes closed, head shaking, "No."

A horse shrieked and Aegon turned his head towards the entrance. Someone had ridden a horse into the pit. They dismounted from the saddle swiftly, handing the reigns to a dragonkeeper as the horse panicked.

"Uncle Gwayne?" Aegon's eyes fluttered as the man approached them. His gold cloak glittered behind him in the dawn light. He made a point of bowing to Daemon quickly before turning to Aegon.

"My sister sent word last night. I'm glad I was able to catch you before your departure, nephew," Gwayne squeezed his shoulder. Aegon smiled at the man.

His mother's youngest brother, Gwayne was a knight. He'd offered to let Aemond squire for him when they were younger, to train him up within the City Watch until he could claim a dragon. Their grandfather had been staunchly against it, but he'd trained with them both regardless, when he could visit. And their grandfather always avoided him now, when he could visit.

"It struck me, as you will have the strongest weapon of House Targaryen with you as your greatest friend," Gwayne grinned as he looked towards Sunfyre. His hand rose to the back of Aegon's head, ruffling his hair, "That you ought to have something of the Hightower with you as well."

Daemon's eyes fluttered as Gwayne presented him with a sword. The scabbard was simple, a leather sheath. Black. The handle as well, with a dark stone embedded in the pommel.

"The stone is from the Hightower itself," Gwayne explained as Aegon took the sword in hand. He squeezed the back of Aegon's neck before dropping both hands, "Depending on which maester you listen to, it might even by Valyrian too. Rather hope it is." He grinned at Daemon, "Would be fitting, I think."

"You'll check on them, right?" Aegon held the sword, thumb tracing the stone as he asked the question. He swallowed thickly. Head rising so he could meet his uncle's gaze. Gwayne startled. Aegon didn't blink, "You know how he is."

Gwayne nodded sharply, eyes flicking towards Daemon briefly before they hardened, "I will. You focus on your task, look out for yourself." His lips pursed tight, "That's what your mother needs. You. Back home."

Rolling his shoulders back, Aegon nodded mutely. He strapped the sword to his hip. It was heavier than the training swords he was accustomed to. Different than the live steel Cole had him practice with occasionally.

Before he could think better of it, Aegon threw his arms around his uncle. Gwayne hugged him back, grip tight. Aegon ducked his head to his uncle's ear, whispering, "He tried to send Aemond." Gwayne stiffened and Aegon stepped back. He raised his chin, "Thank you, uncle."

"Fly safe, nephew," Gwayne bowed his head as he retreated. He met Aegon's eyes once more as he raised his head, "I'll look out for your brother."

"More was said there than I understood, I think," Daemon hummed as he watched Gwayne retrieve his horse. His head bobbed, laughter on his lips as he turned back to Aegon, "Any requests for me then?" Aegon snorted. Daemon arched a brow, "Questions?"

He had a million questions for Daemon. Some of them as old as he was. Aegon tilted his head, chewing at his bottom lip. Daemon spread his arms wide, rocking forward once more. Silver hair fell past his shoulders, obscuring part of his face.

"You didn't say anything, yesterday, at the Small Council meeting, about me," Aegon pointed out. Daemon straightened. Arms falling to his side. "Why?"

"I said my piece, well before you arrived," Daemon sighed, nose wrinkling.

Aegon narrowed his eyes, "I wasn't your pick, was I?" Daemon snorted. His head fell forward. A scowl twisted at his face.

"Whether it was you or Aemond, I did not think you should go, certainly not alone," Daemon told him, pursing his lips, "It took two of us, last time, and I would prefer another Targaryen boy be saved the honor of coming of age on a battlefield."

The air stilled around them. Sunfyre screeched. Aegon shivered, rubbing at his arm as a chill spread from his mark. He frowned at it.

"You'll be with Sunfyre enough, that may hurt less. Should you desire a silver lining," Daemon offered, gaze lingering on Aegon's arm, on the knot tied at his wrist. Aegon tugged on it, checking it was secure.

He had vambraces in his pack. Leather ones, to match his riding gear. Another layer to help him hide. Daemon had offered to loan him his armor. But Aegon had never trained in full plate. He'd convinced Cole to let him train in leather a year ago, like his riding leathers. That was more than cumbersome enough if you asked him.

"You know where you're going?" Daemon checked, throat bobbing. Aegon nodded. "You have everything I told you to bring, yes? Don't let any burns fester, it's important-"

"I know," Aegon assured him, arching a brow. He chuckled, head tilting back, "You don't really think my mother let my leave that castle without checking my bag three times do you?" Daemon's lips twitched up. "She doubled the amount of salve you recommend, even."

"A smart woman," Daemon hummed, nodding sharply. Aegon turned for Sunfyre then. The sun was rising, nearly past the horizon entirely.

Daemon made another aborted attempt to say something. He scrubbed a hand down the side of his face instead, snarling at the ground. Aegon watched him for a moment, sitting in a borrowed saddle, with a sword he knew had been meant for his younger brother.

His uncle crossed his arms, plastering on what likely passed for a smile when he was angry. Daemon wasn't leaving. He stood there, waiting for Aegon to leave first, to see Aegon off as he'd promised his mother he would.

It wasn't the uncle Rhaenyra had promised when he was little. The protective dragonrider. But... he was closer.

"You're our uncle too," Aegon called out to him. Daemon's brow furrowed. His head turned towards the entrance Gwayne had ridden through, forehead creasing. Aegon laughed, "No. My siblings and I, you're *our* uncle too."

Squinting at him, Daemon's jaw clicked, "Yes?" Aegon arched a brow.

"Not just Rhaenyra's."

A screech from Sunfyre cut off any response Daemon might have had as the golden dragon spread his wings. Quick enough that Aegon didn't even catch his uncle's expression.

Aegon gave the command and they were up, arcing back over the Dragon Pit and drifting slowly through the sky above King's Landing. They passed over the kingswood and Aegon saw the silver dot lying on Vhagar. His brother had fled for his dragon the moment he'd been told Aegon was leaving.

A soft rumble echoed up from the trees. Vhagar stretched her neck up, watching him with nostrils flaring. Aegon was over the Blackwater when her flames rose into the air.

The reception he received when he arrived in the Stepstones was similarly welcoming. Corlys looked him up and down, chuckling at his hair.

"Dying your hair my house colors will not endear you to me any quicker, Prince Aegon."

"It was a joke actually," Aegon told him, watching his expression tighten, "Daemon was aiming for green apparently, though he did say the blue suited me better."

Corlys hummed, lips curling, "I'm sure he did." He leaned over the battle map between them. A dragon figurine was placed at their location. The pale blue paint had chipped away to reveal dark wood.

"Jace is the one who said it was Velaryon," Aegon bit at his bottom lip, eyes flicking over the map curiously. He tapped at a spot near the center. Arching an eyebrow as he looked up at Corlys, "Guess he was right."

Chapter Text

The campaign in the Stepstones involved significantly more downtime than Aegon expected. He spent more time sitting on the ground with his back against Sunfyre's scales than he did in the air, shouting 'dracarys' as he passed over the enemy. Corlys even had them slinking into the caverns, literally smoking them out, since Sunfyre was still small enough to fit.

Two years did not pass quickly. In fact, Aegon was fairly positive it had actually been a decade and Corlys was messing with the date as some sort of elaborate prank. He'd gotten enough news from the Red Keep to know Baela had kept up her joke with Dark Sister while her grandfather oversaw the building of a fort and lighthouse here in the Stepstones. Perhaps Velaryons just enjoyed more elaborate pranks.

Somewhere, Daemon was suffering as well, given Rhaenyra had supposedly been switching out his wine with a diluted version. His sister was apparently waiting for the perfect moment to switch it back. Or so Jace had told him. He suspected Rhaenyra had no intention of ever doing that and the plot was entirely his nephew's.

Letters were his primary source of entertainment. A true testiment to his boredom. He even wrote back!

Absolutely disgusting. No one could ever know he'd sunk this low. Writing his mother every week. Who was he? Aemond?!

Sometimes he even wrote Daeron, which he'd always been horrible at. He wrote Helaena once. She'd requested some sort of slug... which Aegon had then spent two weeks finding.

Because he was bored. Not because he wanted to. Very important distinction.

Most of the responses were slow. Especially from his little brother. Even though Oldtown was technically closer than King's Landing.

As an experiment, Aegon had slipped a letter to his mother inside one he sent to Jace. Her next letter had come twice as fast. He'd stopped sending them directly after that.

Aemond refused to write. Spent all of his time in the training yard, according to Jace and his mother. One of those had been whining, the other worrying. It was likely a good thing Aegon had been heckled into sparing with the Velaryon knights, in case his brother was holding a grudge.

His brother was exceptionally good at holding grudges. Nearly so well as his grandfather. Aegon didn't think Otto Hightower had any plans of picking up a sword though.

"I'm just saying, you could *accidentally* set him on fire, and then take a quick bite. If there's no body, how are they even going to know? And it'd be a crime to waste cooked food!"

Sunfyre didn't so much as twitch at his glorious plan. He slumbered on. Like the lazy sack of dragon scales he had become.

"Okay, what about Vaemond? He made that crack about Jace last week, we could trip him so he falls into the Narrow Sea? Quick flick of the tail, no work at all really."

A slow inhale and Sunfyre's side rose. It lowered right back down as the dragon exhaled. Loudly. Practically snoring as they lay there in the sunlight.

They didn't get a lot of sunlight as late, with winter rising on the horizon it rained more and more every day. A fact which Sunfyre had decided to take personal offense at, given his name. Every time the sun peaked out, they ended up right here, bathing in the light.

"If you don't entertain me, I will go flying in the next storm, just to spite you," Aegon raised a hand, poking at Sunfyre's scales. His beast finally cracked an eye open. Aegon arched a brow.

Sunfyre's tail whipped around, crossing over his body to plop into Aegon's lap. He struggled beneath the weight, pushing and shoving. The tail didn't budge. Sunfyre screeched lightly.

"Cheating! This is cheating!" Aegon yelled at him as the dragon's body rumbled beneath him. "You can't use my own tricks against me!"

Corlys cleared his throat as he approached. Aegon paused, eyebrow arching. Sunfyre lifted his tail.

Ah. The sitting part was over.

The other part of war that Aegon had been wholly unprepared for, beside the boredom, was the smells. Maybe it was different, on the ground.

Soot he could take. Fire, ash. He knew those scents well. Even shit. He'd spent enough time in Flea Bottom to build up a tolerance.

None of those compared to the rotting. Even burned bodies could rot. Sometimes, Aegon thought they rotted faster.

Flames scorched the ground beneath them as they passed over the field. Screams were snuffed out. Cooked flesh, burnt and broiling, had his stomach rolling.

The only upside Aegon had discovered was that he did this same pass every day, working outward. Clearing the perimeter, Corlys called it, as they established the fort's defenses. It was routine. Habit.

None of the screams were theirs. None of the bodies below him belonged to Corlys' men. That hadn't been true the first few months.

Sunfyre's last roar echoed longer than usual and Aegon's head whipped around as it was followed by another, louder one. Rising over the water, arcing over Corlys' ships, was a familiar dragon. Pale blue scales, almost lilac. The same color as his sister's eyes.

"I wasn't aware we were receiving reinforcements?" Vaemond called out as Aegon landed. He glared at the man and the knight startled back.

"Dreamfyre is liable to eat you, if you get too close," Aegon grinned at him, voice rising as he descended from the hill where Sunfyre liked to sleep. "She's had a preference for men, ever since Queen Rhaena fed her that last husband they suffered through."

A few men stumbled back when the larger dragon landed, the ground shaking under the force of her descent. Dreamfyre growled as she surveyed her audience.

"Sister?" Aegon approached from the side, getting little more than a snuff of acknowledgement from Dreamfyre. Helaena slid down from her saddle, landing with a huff on unsteady feet in the mud.

Aegon caught her around the waist. Eyebrow arching as her arms wrapped around him in return. She was trembling. No care for his touch, for the mud that had splattered up onto her skirts, her ankles too most like.

"What's happened? Why are you here?" Aegon lowered his voice to a whisper, "Is it mother-"

"It's my nameday," Helaena spoke softly, tilting her head as they separated. She blinked slowly, holding his gaze with wide eyes.

Oh. Corlys wasn't lying about the date then.

With a flourish, he directed her towards his tent. She stepped inside and then immediately turned around. Aegon rolled his eyes, blocking her exit with his arm as her cheeks burned.

"Out," Aegon inclined his head back as he dragged Helaena deeper inside.

She kept her head turned away as the two men who'd been lying in his bed dressed. They were quick about it, throwing on thin shirts and smallclothes before ducking outside. Modesty was an afterthought here.

But not for Helaena. Her eyes still shut.

"We're alone," Aegon told her, sitting on the edge of his bed. She hovered. Not sitting in the lone chair in his temporary accommodations. Fingers twitched in the air. Rings spinning. The fabric of her skirts twisted.

"I have a mark," Helaena finally said, looking up at him through her lashes. Her right hand drifted up her forearm.

The fabric of her dress was thick enough to conceal it despite the light color. A small mercy that had a quick flash of jealousy rising in Aegon's chest. He shoved it down.

"Okay. Well, if it's another person with Targaryen blood, the king won't make your betrothal official until after-"

"It is," Helaena confirmed with a quick bob of her head. Her thumb pressed against her arm, directly over the laces that held her sleeve closed. "They're younger than me."

Aegon snorted, "Duh." He shook his head, smiling broadly, "I'm the only one older than you, Hels, and we know it's not me." Her lips quirked up. "You just have to tell the king. He might want to see it, but-"

"No one sees the king," Helaena frowned. Aegon's brow furrowed. He squinted at her.

She began to pace the small open space of his tent. Tiny circles. Not like Aemond's stomping. More like their mother, her fretting, flitting from thing to thing as she tried to contain her anxiety. There was nothing in his tent for her to grab, to distract herself with.

"He's been sick. Or, sicker." Helaena's forehead wrinkled. "The Hand, he's restricted access." She reached up, fingers running through the ends of her hair. "Only members of the Small Council see him. Maester's orders." She began to ramble, clawing at silver strands as her words grew quicker, her voice higher.

By the time her hands started to fist in her hair, Aegon was standing. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them away. Her eyes were wide, trembling as she stared at him.

"Grandfather won't like it, if he knows."

"You have to go to mother then," Aegon swallowed thickly. He nodded sharply, squeezing at her wrists, "She won't make you show her. You just... just tell her you need to see the king, to make a deal, like I did."

Helaena startled, eyes wide, "You made a deal?" Aegon's lips quirked up, smile tight. "What... what is it?"

"He won't announce my betrothal till their mark appears, won't tell anyone who it is. Let's me keep it a secret," Aegon told her. She tilted her head. He looked away, "I'm not allowed to tell anyone. Just him. Just the king."

"I... I can't tell them even? My soulmate?" Helaena's shoulders hunched. Her hands started to shake and Aegon released her wrist.

Her fingers flew through the air. Twisting. Twitching. Aegon sighed, he yanked a loose button off one his spare doublets and tossed it to her. "Yeah, Hels, not even them." Her next breath was a shudder. Helaena traced the edge of his button. "The fewer people that know, the safer you'll be, if you're worried about the hand."

"He's worse," Helaena sniffed, hands squeezing at the button. She inhaled sharply. Eyes seeking him out, focusing on a spot beside his head, "All the letters from Oldtown go to him. Mother... mother barely speaks. She says the Velaryons have you and the Hightowers have Daeron, so every word is a threat, a danger."

Eyes squeezing shut, Aegon pushed the meat of his hands into them. He cursed under his breath. Helaena chuckled, stilted and hollow.

"That's what Rhaenyra sounds like all the time now. Grandfather controls everything. The Small Council is split, so it all comes down to the queen, to mother."

"And he has the letters," Aegon finished for her, wincing. She hummed.

"You send yours to Jace. He gives them to Aemond. But Daeron..."

It would always come down to Daeron. His little brother, locked in the Hightower. More hostage than ward.

They had no idea how he was actually treated, how much of his letters were his. Daeron had been four when he'd left King's Landing. More toddler than child still. A freshly claimed dragon to his name and very few memories to remind him of the family waiting for him.

"He has too much leverage," Aegon flopped back on his bed, staring at the top of his tent. He blew out a breath.

"And he's gaining more, Uncle Gwayne said he thinks grandfather is gathering support for your claim." Helaena approached him. "Using your presence here to convince the lords that you should rule, a warrior-king."

Aegon snorted. He'd never even drawn his sword in a battle. Aemond was the warrior. Daeron the scholar, if his letters were even half-truth.

"I'd be a drunkard king," Aegon squeezed his eyes shut, laughing darkly, "Beggar the realm to pay for all my whores and wine."

"You wouldn't," Helaena frowned, tugging at his sleeve. Aegon tugged his vambraces off, tossing them onto the bed beside him as he sat up.

Pulling Helaena close, he squeezed her arms, forcing eye contact, "Trust me. I'd get there." He tilted his head, nodding towards the tent's flap. "This? This would be nothing compared to what we'd have to do to win that stupid crown."

"Then... what do we do?" Helaena asked him, hands rising to skim the front of his riding leathers. He dropped his arms. She traced the dragon on the front. Gold on a black field.

Gold like Sunfyre. And Syrax.

"Rhaenyra," Aegon breathed out. Helaena's fingers stilled. "If I have to choose who to trust right now, Rhaenyra or Otto, than I'm not choosing the one who tried to send Aemond here."

If they got Daeron back, they could deal with Otto. Rhaenyra could wait. She had to wait. The king wasn't dead yet. They had dragons.

They still had a chance.

"Use Dreamfyre," Aegon told her, gaze sharp, "Land at the Red Keep. Demand to see the king. You're his daughter, same as Rhaenyra. Jace says she seems him for tea every day, is that right?"

Helaena nodded, lips trembling, "But how... how do I-"

"Use Dreamfyre," Aegon emphasized it again, squeezing at her shoulder, "Use Cole. Blame me." She tensed. "The Hand can't touch me here. Blame me. Get in to see the king. Beg him, cry. Make him help. You are the king's daughter. Make him see that."

It was all they had. The king. Rhaenyra. They just needed one of them to care. One of them.

"Seven hells, go to fucking Daemon if you have to."

Chapter Text

The moment Helaena was in the air, Aegon was back in his bed. A flagon of wine held precariously in his hand.

"Any requests tonight, your grace?" One of his bedwarmers asked as they started unlacing his leathers. Aegon hummed around the rim of his flagon, head tipping back as he drained it.

Another was placed in his hands as his armor and doublet were tossed onto the floor. He moaned as a mouth descended on his throat, hands tugged at the laces of his breeches.

"Use me," Aegon whispered as they pushed him onto his back. He was stripped from the waist down. Hands pushed beneath his shirt, but never pulled it off.

In short order, Aegon found himself on his knees, clinging to a man's thighs as he swallowed down his cock. His body rocked forward as a thrust from behind had him moaning.

They liked sharing him. He knew they did, the same way he knew they spent so much time in his tent partially because it was the only place they could kiss one another without judgement. Aegon was a means to an end and the end was each other.

That suited him just fine. The two knights paid more attention to one another than they did Aegon, leaning over his body to kiss as their breaths grew heavy.

Aegon's fingers dug in to plump flesh, eyes squeezing shut as he listened to them murmuring to one another. Quiet devotations. Sweet nothings.

Trapped between them, their warmth inescapable as they fucked him, Aegon could almost pretend he was back in King's Landing. Back in Mysaria's brothel after one of his Valyrian lessons with Jace. A fire burning a few feet away as his pleasure coiled tighter.

His mouth filled with the salty taste of cum. Hands curled into his hair and Aegon twisted his tongue, dragging it over the shaft as he was pulled off. The knight gasped, chuckling faintly. His partner picked up his pace. His thrusts hitting harder, the slap of skin on skin losing its rhythm as every other sound fell away for Aegon.

The tent flaps pushed open and a deep voice cleared his throat. "Ser Gendry. Ser Jory."

Corlys' entrance had them scrambling off the bed, leaving Aegon to catch himself on his hands and knees. He opened his eyes, chest heaving as he glared at the man standing in front of his bed. Tall. Imposing. Beard as neat as his clothes, despite the rain clinging to both.

In comparison, Aegon was sure he was quite a sight. Corlys arched a brow, "I'm afraid Prince Aegon is needed elsewhere."

"What do you want?" Aegon coughed, raising one arm to wipe his mouth with his sleeve. Corlys narrowed his eyes. Aegon made no move from the bed despite the knights now standing at attention beside it.

Corlys pursed his lips, arms crossing, "You're to join my war council." The Lord of the Tides looked briefly at his knights, gaze hard, "Now."

"Me?" Aegon snorted, but he let Jory tug him sideways. His body nearly limp, shivering as the cold air met his sweat slick limbs. They started to dress him, Aegon whining, "You never invite me. And they're surely boring."

His head lulled forward, falling onto Jory's shoulder as the man tugged his breeches on. Gendry appeared at his back, indelicate as he forced Aegon's arms into his doublet.

If this scenario were not so completely beyond his realm of comprehension, Aegon might have thought he was dreaming. Corlys did not consult him. Did not ask his opinion. Not on anything.

"Your input is required," Corlys took a firm hold of Aegon's shoulder, shaking him slightly once Gendry had shoved him forward. Aegon wrinkled his nose.

"You could've at least waited till I finished," Aegon huffed, pushing a hand through his hair. Corlys chuckled and then steered him outside, into the chilly air of evening and the equally cold rain.

Aegon cursed. Emphatically. And Corlys' booming laughter joined the sharp cracks of thunder as they walked across the camp towards his command tent. A tent Aegon had been in only twice.

He knew Jace thought Aegon was more involved in this campaign than he actually was. His letters were filled with questions, curiosities about why certain actions were taken. The strategies they employed. The defenses they met.

But Aegon wasn't Daemon, and he certainly wasn't Laenor, so Corlys didn't ask him things. Didn't explain things. He gave orders and Aegon followed them.

Not all together different than what was expected of him at home. The hand would no doubt be spitting with rage if he discovered Aegon actually listened to Corlys though.

"A new tactic has been proposed," Corlys shoved him into a seat in front of the map. Aegon hummed, leaning back. He recognized the men around them. Captains. Commanders. It was Vaemond that Corlys waved onward though. A mere knight amongst the officers. "Tell him, brother."

Vaemond straightened, his brow furrowing. Corlys circled around to stand before his own seat. Arms behind his back as Vaemond glanced from him to Aegon.

"Your plan relies heavily on the capabilities of our resident dragonrider, do you not think his knowledge of Sunfyre might be beneficial?" Corlys narrowed his gaze on his brother, brows lowering. The other men around them shuffled in their seats.

Smiles and snickers were not well hidden. Vaemond nodded, gestures clipped as he began to point out the enemies' positions on the map. Corlys sat, letting Vaemond lead.

"We have near complete control of the Stepstones. They have but one stronghold, a position in the caves that they have fortified with their own fort," Vaemond tapped at the top of a castle figurine set further south. "Our current strategy has been to cut them off from the sea, wait them out."

Eyes flicking over the map, Aegon's jaw clicked. They held the largest islands of the Stepstones. All except the Grey Gallows, where the tiny castle sat on the map. The fort on Bloodstone was not yet half finished.

Even if they had twice as many ships, they couldn't blockade their position without severely hampering their progress. Or stopping the escort of trading vessels, which he knew Corlys would never approve.

The trade routes were why they were here in the first place.

"You want to attack them directly," Aegon interrupted Vaemond's rambling explanation of his plan. His face soured, but he nodded. Aegon leaned on the arm of his chair, "What's it made of?"

"What?" Vaemond's brow furrowed. Corlys' lip twitched up as Aegon rolled his eyes.

With an exaggerated groan, Aegon leaned forward, stretching his arm across the map to flick the little castle. "Their fort. You want me to burn it I assume. What's it made of?"

"Wood, mostly," Corlys answered, leaning on his hand, fingers tapping against his cheek, "The foundation appears to have been lain with stone, rocks from the island itself. Similar to the one we've started here on Bloodstone. Just smaller."

"And set against the caverns," Vaemond tacked on, using the opening to continue his explanation. There was significant pointing, discussion of key checkpoints, and a bunch of stuff about troop movement that didn't pertain to him at all.

Aegon leaned his forehead on the table and wished desperately for wine. Eventually, Vaemond shut up.

"You want me to burn the fortress, and then push forward into the caves, so that all of you lot can land and flood the island with knights and swords, yes?" Aegon summed up, lifting his head with a huff. Vaemond frowned as Aegon blew a stray hair out of his face.

"Essentially," Corlys inclined his head forward and Aegon stared at him, waiting with eyes half-lidded. He blinked, "Your thoughts?"

"Way I see it, there are three possible outcomes," Aegon sat up, cracking his neck loudly.

The various commanders all narrowed their eyes on him as he slumped back in his seat. Aegon ignored them, speaking only to Corlys.

"One, we succeed, we take Grey Gallows. I end up scorching the island until you're satisified the pirates have been uprooted and you send me home. I give it a month, minimum, because you're annoyingly thorough."

That earned him chuckles. Corlys raised his chin, hand falling into his lap as Aegon continued.

"Second. We fail. I live, mock Vaemond for the rest of his life for his shitty plan, and you all have to keep putting up with me until you come up with another one."

Less chuckles. Vaemond actively scowled. Corlys hummed. He nodded sharply and Aegon smirked.

"Third? I die." Corlys stiffened, as did the rest of the men at the table. Aegon snickered, "And then you have to beg Daemon to come finish the job." Corlys frowned and Aegon turned his head to grin at Vaemond, "And all of the hand's plans go up in smoke with me."

Eyes flicked towards Vaemond briefly, brows furrowed. Aegon threw his head back, cackling as they all stared at him.

"I see no downsides," Aegon slapped the arms of his chair and leaned forward, brow arching as he met Corlys' gaze, "When do I fly?"

Several voices were soon talking over each other. Arguing about timing, coordinates for landing. Corlys narrowed his eyes on Aegon as he got up to swipe a goblet full of wine from another table off to the side. He drank heavily, only half listening.

Once Corlys dismissed him, Aegon fled, leaving the commanders to their discussion. The important part was decided. Aegon would attack at dawn, use the rising sun as cover for his approach. Sunfyre would have their fort in ruins before most of them even woke.

Jory and Gendry were still in his tent, dressed and waiting. Aegon's gaze flicked over them. Dark hair, both of them. Jory was taller. Gendry thicker. They were both older than him, experienced knights. Sailors.

"You're both assigned to Corlys' ship, right?" Aegon asked as he reached for his riding leathers. They'd been picked up at some point, laid neatly on his table.

Both knights startled. They exchanged a look and then Jory nodded, "Yes, your grace."

The plan was shaky, at best. It was essentially a straightforward push, a show of pure force, a final drive. That it came from Vaemond just made that even odder. Suspicious even.

Aegon slid his vambrace onto his left arm. He used his teeth to tug the laces tight and rotate it into position. Jory approached, reaching to tie it properly. "Are you to fly soon, your grace?"

"Yes," Aegon hesitated, checking his mark was covered by the leather before he let Jory finish what he'd started. Gendry had already grabbed the right vambrace, "There will be some announcement soon, I'm sure."

They'd both be on Corlys' ship. The lead ship. Corlys would be front and center during the battle. Leading the charge after Sunfyre's initial decimation of their defenses.

Jace's letters recently had been less enthusiastic. Sullen, even. Helaena had said the hand now had near total control of the crown, using their mother to exert his influence. And he knew there was talk of Driftmark's succession.

Anyone paying even half attention knew Vaemond wanted it. Knew he was whispering about Laenor's sons when Corlys had his back turned.

"Keep an eye on your captain, when you make landfall," Aegon told them as they lowered the chest piece over his head. Hands paused, fingers twitching in the laces at his sides.

"Your grace?" Gendry arched a brow, stepping in front of him. His eyes fluttered as Aegon bit his lip. "Every knight sworn to House Velaryon will-"

Aegon snorted, head falling forward. He took a breath. Chin rising, he met Gendry's eyes as Jory ducked to adjust the leather armor around his waist.

They were a deep green. Gendry's eyes. He didn't look at them often. They reminded him of the scales on a dragon. A specific dragon. The one on his arm.

"If Lord Corlys falls, Vaemond must follow," Aegon spoke softly. Gendry startled back. Jory's head snapped up.

"This is about..." Gendry trailed off, gaze flicked down to Aegon's arm, "...about the succession." Aegon stiffened and he tipped his chin higher, eyes narrowing.

Jory pressed a hand to his arm, squeezing at his bicep, "Isn't... isn't Vaemond on your side though? He wants-"

"He wants to disinherit Laenor's sons, which he can't do with Corlys alive," Aegon snapped, lips curling back as he glared at the man. Jory swallowed and Aegon snarled, "If you think this ends with you fucking a king, you're wrong!"

"I think the only one in this room who wants to fuck a king is you," Gendry grabbed the edges of his leathers around his chest, he tugged Aegon forward. His eyes were hard now.

Aegon held his breath, body trembling. Nothing about him was hard. He felt the panic flooding his senses. The fear. Gendry released him, shoving him back.

"Lord Corlys won't fall," Gendry said sharply, voice clipped. He glanced towards Jory. "If he does, he won't be alone." He turned back to Aegon, inclining his head forward with a frown, "That's all we can promise, your grace."

Rolling his shoulders back, Aegon ducked his head. Jory fixed his leathers. Gendry stepped back to his side. They tightened the chest piece into place. The back pieces. When they finished, a hand pressed to his spine, over the knot tied at the base of his neck. Aegon shuddered.

It wasn't searing, like Jace's touches had been. Not even so hot as the faint memories Aegon had of them. But it was warm all the same. Comforting.

"Thank you," Aegon whispered before he left, fleeing his own tent.

They'd linger. Prepare themselves. Maybe they'd fuck first, just the two of them, well assured that Aegon wouldn't be returning.

It was even odds really. Death. Survival. He was the chisel, poised at the center of the enemies' defenses. When the hammer struck, he'd have no retreat. Once he was in those caverns, they had to win, or he was dead.

Sunfyre would live. Probably. It was difficult to kill a dragon. One enraged after the death of a rider even more so.

"Ready to fly?" Aegon greeted his golden beast with a smile. Sunfyre screeched. Tittering as Aegon circled around to his front.

He lowered his head to Sunfyre's maw, pressing his forehead to rough scales as rain fell around them. Nostrils flared. Warm air wrapped around his body and Aegon sighed, leaning into the steam rising around him.

"Soon, boy." Aegon whispered, eyes closing as he settled in. An hour, at most, and then he'd be in the air. Flying towards his last battle, hopefully. His palms grazed over golden scales, "It'll all be over soon, Sun."

The rumble of Sunfyre's chest was one of discontent. His annoyance rising. His anger. Aegon clung to it. Let his blood boil with it. He'd told Helaena they had to trust Rhaenyra. But mostly, mostly he just couldn't stand to let Otto win.

"We're going home soon," Aegon declared, opening his eyes to meet Sunfyre's. He stepped back. Letting the rain pound against his body. Whether they won or not. He was going home.

This was Corlys' war. A never ending skirmish over a bunch of rocks. Aegon's fight was in King's Landing. A war brewing as the hand schemed. As his grandfather held a knife to his mother's throat.

"One more, and then we go home," Aegon told the dragon. Sunfyre screeched again. Wings went wide, fluttering in the air. Aegon laughed as Sunfyre shook himself, throwing water in every direction. His saddle was slick as he secured himself.

He paused for a moment, hand grazing over the pommel of his sword. Aegon traced the stone there. He'd never been to the Hightower. Never seen the Reach.

Maybe he would soon.

Throat bobbing, Aegon tossed his head back. He inhaled sharply and then gave the command. His Valyrian sharp. Sunfyre roared and the sky filled with lightning as it drowned out the thunder.

Just one more. And then he could go home.

Chapter Text

Steel scraping against steel. Screams. The sickening squelch as a sword plunged into the meat of somebody's body.

Battles were loud.

Aegon preferred to be in the air. Sunfyre's roars echoing in his skull, his own voice nearly drowned out by the wind as he gave his dragon his commands.

He wasn't in the air though. He was in a fucking cavern. A network of them technically. Sunfyre barely fit, even with his wings pulled tight against his body.

Behind them, the Velaryon fleet was arriving on the island, overtaking the ashen husk of a fort Sunfyre had left for them with ease. Most of the garrison had fled into the cliff behind the fort. Using the network of caves to hide.

Burnt bodies crunched under each of Sunfyre's steps. There was nothing in front of them. Nothing but more twists and turns and forks.

"Back," Aegon whispered, though it still echoed off the stone all around them. Just like all the fucking sounds behind them did.

They'd double back, check another of the branching tunnels that split off from their entrance. Sunfyre groused, nostrils flaring. His tail swung about as he stepped backwards.

With no room to turn around, Sunfyre's tail was their only protection that direction. Aegon swallowed, eyes on the opening as they retreated. It would be easy to flank them in here. Easy to rip him from his dragon.

"I'm gonna fucking kill Vaemond," Aegon breathed out, voice stuttering.

A scream echoed around them and he flinched. It was cut off a moment later. The familiar death rattle of a man's last breath following after.

The cavern widened as they got closer to the entrance. Enough for Sunfyre to turn around properly, and he did so, without a word from Aegon. He snuffed, a rumble rising in his chest as Aegon looked at the next branch.

"Last one," Aegon promised, lips pursing even as he looked longingly towards the sunlit opening in front of them. He nudged Sunfyre with his leg and the dragon turned.

Head ducking low, Sunfyre growled as they approached that branch. It was scorched in ash. A few bodies on the floor from their intitial attack.

They searched a few meters, but as the passage began to close in around them, Aegon felt his chest tighten. Sunfyre stopped. He turned his head, shaking it pointedly, nostrils flaring.

Something rotten filled the air. Aegon gagged. He held his wrist to his nose, hand fisting beside his face.

He listened, trying to block out the quick pace of his own heartbeat pounding in his ear. Trying to ignore the smell. Acrid and bitter as it filled his nostrils.

Sunfyre couldn't go any further anyway. And Aegon didn't hear any groans that meant someone might have survived the flames. With a shake, he squeezed his eyes shut and commanded Sunfyre back.

Wings spread wide as they exited the caverns. Immediately, a volley of arrows rained down on them. Sunfyre shrieked and his flames engulfed the projectiles. Most of them anyway.

"Up!" Aegon yelled, hissing as an arrow embedded itself in his leg. They took to the air and his head swam, the arrowhead pushed deeper by the pressure. Sunfyre whined.

They turned midair and Aegon fisted the reins as Sunfyre prepared to raze the ground beneath them. He grunted, blinking tears from his eyes

"No!" Aegon snapped at him. He glanced around, Sunfyre hovering just above the battle. Another volley of arrows fell just short of his wings and the golden beast reared back. He let loose a roar as Aegon followed the trajectory back to the cliff.

With a huff, Aegon surveyed the area. The fort had sat at the base of a cliff, butted up against an entrance to the caverns. A large valley had opened up in front of it. A rocky, sloping valley that led down to the cliff.

It was a poor position to fortify, even with the tunnels and the caves. No sightlines. Nowhere near the coast. Difficult to traverse even on foot.

Trap. It was meant as a trap.

"Down," Aegon leaned forward in the saddle. They coasted through the air, circling the battlefield. His hair flew out behind him as he turned his head to survey the pockmarked cliffside. Sunfyre's flames had touched every opening large enough for a man to crawl into. The rain was erasing the obvious evidence, the stone streaked with black as the soot seemed to melt away.

Below them the battle waged. The knights had taken longer to get from their ships to the fort than expected. While Aegon had been in the tunnels, the survivors had set up defensive positions. They were holding their own to a certain extent. Reinforcements crawling out of the caverns quicker than the Velaryons could get their men across the island at least.

It was a shit plan and Aegon would be lording that over every fucking Velaryon who survived this mess for the rest of his life. Vaemond especially, but Corlys too. All those other captains.

Face pressed to gold scales, Aegon inhaled sharply. His leg was aching. He glanced at the wound. The arrow was embedded fairly deep. Blood was dripping down his thigh, drenching his breeches.

"Hold," Aegon groaned, eyes fluttering as Sunfyre landed to roost at the top of the cliff.

Stars exploded in his vision at the jarring. Aegon took deep breaths, chest heaving as he pulled a knife from the leather satchel hooked to Sunfyre's saddle.

With a quick glance back towards the battle, he reached down towards his thigh, pressing the knife against the arrow's shaft. He pushed the shaft back against the flat of the blade, using his weight to snap the arrow, getting the break as close to his leg as he could.

Tossing the end away, Aegon doubled over. He used the knife to cut a long strip from the bottom of his breeches. A scream ripped from his lips when he tied the long scrap of fabric around his thigh.

Flames filled the air as Sunfyre shrieked, thrashing as Aegon tightened the knot. Panting, he clung to his saddle, stumbling over his Valyrian as he tried to calm his dragon. His vision blurred. Blinking slowly, Aegon stowed the knife and turned his attention back to his task.

His part was done though. There was no spot in the valley below where the enemy wasn't surrounded by Corlys' men. No target for him to focus on. Velaryon blue was flooding the area, finally. Men pouring into the caverns, swords raised high as they followed the stragglers into their hiding spots.

"Done," Aegon patted at Sunfyre's back, leaning over the pommel of his saddle. He smiled softly, breathing slowly. Finally fucking done.

A flash of lightning illuminated the field. It reflected off the golden scales beneath him, bouncing light all around. Light that caught the point of a scorpion bolt peaking out of a cave entrance.

"Up!" Aegon screamed and Sunfyre darted skyward.

The bolt flew through the air with a whistle, sailing just beneath Sunfyre's tail before it smashed into the cliff, embedding itself in the stone. Hands tight in the reigns, Aegon glared down at the large metal arrow. His gaze turned slowly towards the cave where it had come from.

They'd burned that hole. But the rats persisted, apparently. They'd burn it again

Sunfyre dived, flames filled his mouth and Aegon's body tingled with the rising warmth. Something bitter settled on his tongue as Aegon growled, "Dracarys!"

Shouting from the ground rose up a moment later. Aegon couldn't make out the words through the wind. The wind which carried the sounds of screaming.

Aegon straightened in his saddle, eyes wide as he stared at the cave they'd just burned. It was sulfur. The bitter taste in his mouth. The rotten smell in the air.

Flames still licked at the cliffside from where Sunfyre had attacked. But they were green now.

And completely ignorant to the rain attempting to extinguish them.

"Wildfire," Aegon whispered, head whipping around. The flames burst from the various holes in the cliffside. Caves and caverns glowing bright green as the tunnels filled with the flames.

Another whistle filled the air. Aegon shouted and Sunfyre dived. The scorpion bolt missed Sunfyre, but it grazed across his left shoulder, ripping him from the saddle. He was flung to the ground. Sunfyre writhed in the air, shrieking as Aegon screamed.

Without Aegon to stop him, Sunfyre darted towards the attacking position. His flames ignited more wildfire. Aegon grabbed at his shoulder, face twisting as his hand squeezed at the bloody wound.

It was shallow. Probably. His ripped shirt and doublet clung to him, drenched in blood. Aegon stumbled to his feet. Swaying as his vision blurred in and out of focus.

"Retreat!" Corlys shouted, voice booming. Aegon stumbled forward. He fell to his knees. Bodies moved around him. Men running.

Some wore Velaryon blue. But not all.

Aegon laughed as Sunfyre's roar shook the ground. There'd be nothing left. Whatever they'd planned for the wildfire. It wouldn't matter how many of Corlys' men they killed, because they were all dead too now.

Burned by their own weapon.

"Sun," Aegon mumbled, pushing himself back up. He walked forward.

The green flames spilled from every opening. Burnt flesh mingled with the rotten scent. Noxious. Aegon swallowed back bile.

Red flames rose around him as Sunfyre screeched. Thrashing in the air, his attacks were aimless. Fuel for the wildfire only.

"Sunfyre!" Aegon called for him. The edge of his vision was going black. That couldn't be good. His eyes squeezing shut, Aegon whined, "Sunfyre!"

"Fucking Targaryen!"

His eyes snapped open and Aegon barely managed to duck as a sword was swung at his head. The man wasn't wearing Velaryon colors. He swore in Valyrian though, calling him colorful names. All of them heavily accented. Lyseni.

Aegon cursed right back at him as he drew his sword. The adrenaline coursing through his body pushed him forward. He blocked the next swing. And the next.

The ground shook. Sunfyre landed a few yards away. His wings stretched wide and he roared again. The man faltered. Aegon pressed his attack. His sword cut through the man's body with a slick thwap.

Stumbling back, Aegon's eyes went wide as he watched the body crumble to the ground. His head turned wildly. Chest heaving, he kept his sword in hand as he ran for Sunfyre.

They were alone. The burning cliff. A rampaging dragon. Both sides had fled. His shoulder screamed as Aegon climbed into his saddle and he cried out, sobbing in pain.

"Up!" Aegon clenched his jaw as Sunfyre took off. He was the one screaming this time. They circled the island, flying a wide circuit. Aegon could barely keep his eyes open to watch for ships. Sunfyre's chest rumbled as he began to shake.

Corlys. He had to find Corlys. Had to check. It had been him calling the retreat. The Lord of the Tides. Alive. Not burning. Not dead.

The Sea Snake. Aegon let out a quiet sob when he caught sight of the ship. Sunfyre shrieked. The Velaryons were already setting up camp on the coast. Triaging. Small rafts ferrying men back and forth from the ships.

Any who'd escaped the wildfire from the other side had been corralled, weapons taken, tied together in some sort of line. Grouped on the edge of the hectic encampment.

Aegon blacked out as Sunfyre landed, his whole body spasming as his nerves lit up with pain. For the first time since his sixteenth nameday, Aegon was feverish. His whole body burning up, and he couldn't even enjoy it.

Groaning, he slid from his saddle. Eyes fluttering, Aegon looked up at blue sky, his back against the dirt. Sunfyre was shrieking again. He raised a hand, patting uselessly at his side until he hit golden scales.

Sunfyre stilled. His head ducking down. He nudged at Aegon's chest and Aegon gasped, shoulder grinding against the ground. Sunfyre whined. He drew back. With a huff, Sunfyre's nostrils flared.

"No," Aegon mumbled, but the fire was already bursting from his lips. Screams filled the air, and then everything was quiet. Very quiet.

Whining, Sunfyre ducked his head again, nosing at the ground beside Aegon. He reached up with his right hand, clawing for leverage. He caught one of Sunfyre's teeth and pulled himself up.

There was screaming again. His, possibly. But Sunfyre lifted him into the air, placing him back on his feet, holding him up as Aegon slumped against his maw.

"You're alive," Corlys approached, arms up as Sunfyre growled. "I was uncertain, when I saw Sunfyre's... rage." He was alone in front of them. The rest of his men had retreated further back. Many of them wide-eyed. The fear in the air almost palpable.

Blinking slowly, Aegon turned his head. The group of surviving combatants was gone. Burnt carcasses and ash remained. Aegon hummed, "I can live with that." He looked back at Corlys, lips twitching up into a smile. "I get to mock Vaemond now, right?"

His laughter was hollow. Hysterical. It shook his shoulder and had pain exploding through his body. Corlys darted forward, braving Sunfyre's wrath to slip an arm around his waist.

If he'd intended to help Aegon walk to one of the fleet's healers, Corlys had severely overestimated him. Aegon passed out after three steps. If any of the Velaryon fleet was left unsinged when he woke up, Aegon would be impressed.

Chapter Text

It was not his bed that Aegon woke up in. Not an all together unusual occurence, he'd woken up in lots of strange beds before. But this particular bed was rocking. And it was warm.

A fire was blazing somewhere, the heat pouring out, wrapping around him like a blanket despite the lack of human contact. Normally, there'd be someone touching him right now, a body around his to provide heat. Someone breathing against his neck or his chest. Maybe both. An arm maybe, across his chest.

Aegon blinked his eyes open, inhaling sharply as he became acutely aware of the ache spreading through his limbs, racing through his body from his abdomen. He drew a hand up to his chest. Nothing. There were no obvious wounds. His fingers grazed over bare flesh even as sharp pain traveled beneath them.

Bruises mottled his abdomen as he glanced down. Blue and purple staining nearly every inch of his normally pale skin.

"Fuck," Aegon hissed, panting as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Braced forward, hands fisted in the sheets, Aegon took stock.

He was nearly naked. Not overly concerning. A proper dressing was tight around his thigh, just beneath his smallclothes. Cloth descended down from his left shoulder, tied around his bicep and his neck.

The wound on his shoulder was numb. Barely tingling beneath the dressing. Whatever the healer had used was working.

Aegon would gladly give every bit of it up, take the arrow a second time, if it meant he had something around his forearm. Anything at all, because the familiar strips of black fabric were gone. No knot was cutting against his wrist.

Nothing lay between his soulmark and the open air. His flesh was pale around the bright colors. No red lines from the tight wrappings. Just a green dragon, coiled around that black and red seahorse. Vermax staring straight at him, mocking him.

The pain in his chest wasn't from his bruises as he stared at his exposed arm. His heart was pounding in his head. Screaming at him.

Except it wasn't screaming. There was no screaming, just the shrieks of a dragon. Echoing across the water and shaking the ship.

Sunfyre.

"You're awake then," Corlys came through the door, closing it behind him with a sharp click.

Aegon blinked. Shaking himself, he took a deep breath, ignoring the throbbing of his body, pushing the pain away. Eventually, Sunfyre quieted.

A long, singular roar echoing out across the waves around them. The glass in the windows around them shook. The trinkets on the shelves. The ship itself nearly groaning.

He was on the Sea Snake.

In the captain's cabin, given the fireplace raging a few feet away and the maps scattered over the desk against the opposite wall. A painting of Princess Rhaenys hung on the wall above the mantle. Her hair the inky black it had been in her youth.

Staring at it, at her, Aegon took another breath. He'd never seen her with dark hair. The princess' hair had gone grey after she'd had her children, lightening to a soft charcoal that was almost silver. Almost Valyrian.

She looked like Jace in the painting. The lines of her face sharp with her youth and her gaze soft. Adoring.

"Your beast has been a proper menance," Corlys spoke again and Aegon startled. His breath catching. Corlys walked further into the room, standing in front of the bed with his arms clasped behind his back, "It seems you got your wish, for my torment, without the cost of your life."

"What?" Aegon furrowed his brow, eyes fluttering. Corlys chuckled. Shoulders rolled back as his lips curled back briefly.

"While I did not have to beg him, I must appreciate that Daemon's presence here has proven..." Corlys wrinkled his nose, sighing heavily, "...helpful."

"Daemon?!" Aegon swallowed. Sunfyre gave another shriek. Corlys frowned. His eyes flickered over Aegon, surveying him. Quickly, Aegon pressed his forearm to his chest.

Cheeks burning, Aegon avoided his gaze. Corlys crossed the room, pulling the chair from his desk.

"Your uncle hasn't seen you yet. I had one of your knights bring you to my ship immediately. He arrived as my ship's healer was tending to your wounds." Corlys took a seat at his bedside, gaze pointed, "No one but the healer has been in to see you before now."

He leaned forward, feet planted on the floor. Aegon held his breath as the man stared at him. His body shaking as adrenaline flooded his system again. The aches and pains sinking beneath the panic he could feel rising in his chest.

"I have not seen your mark," Corlys spoke softly and Aegon exhaled. He sagged forward slightly. His eyes closed, head falling. "But you called Ser Gendry the wrong name when he picked you up."

"I did?" Aegon winced, voice cracking. He looked up at Corlys through his lashes. The man was as hard as stone. But his face cracked, forehead creasing.

The Sea Snake nodded. His hand moved to squeeze at Aegon's ankle, "He seemed quite use to it. And Ser Jory avoided answering, when I questioned him about it privately."

Aegon looked at the hand on his leg. An attempt to comfort. A chilly palm, pressed to his own cold flesh.

His arm dropped back to the sheets and Corlys inhaled audibly. The fingers around his ankle twitched.

It was over. Corlys would tell Daemon. Or maybe he'd drag him out to see him, just like this. Show the Rogue Prince the mark on his wrist.

"I'm sorry," Aegon croaked, hunching over as he began to cry. The tears falling without his permission as his shoulder burned. Torn skin stretching he tried to curl up into a ball. A stab of pain in his thigh paused his attempts to pull his legs up. Only for a moment though.

He sniffled, throat bobbing as he tried to blink away the tears. His right hand scrubbing at his face, useless as he hiccuped.

Corlys stood up then and Aegon flinched. He tensed, whimpering as he angled himself away, bracing for the hit.

Jace was his grandson, his first grandchild. Corlys knew what Aegon was. Had seen first hand all his habits, his attitude. All the things that made his mother wring her hands and a few that'd probably make her collapse outright if she ever found out.

"Why are you hiding it?" Corlys demanded as he took a step back from the bed. His hands gripped at the back of the chair, eyes wide as their gazes met.

"Because Jace still has a chance to have someone better," Aegon squeezed his eyes shut, ducking his head.

His nephew would be fifteen in a couple of months. And then it was only a year more, before Aegon ran out of time. Before Jace's mark would appear and his fantasy became a nightmare.

"He could have someone else as a soulmate, maybe, and then he wouldn't have to marry me," Aegon choked out. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. "Maybe he won't have a mark and Rhaenyra will convince the king to let him choose his own match."

"You want to spend the rest of your life watching him with someone else?" Corlys spat out, lips curling back, a scowl twisting at his face.

Aegon raised his head. "I want Jace to be happy." He glared at the older man, jaw clenching as he held in a sob. "Not stuck with me forever because the king thinks forcing me on him will fix everything."

Corlys didn't say anything to that. He straightened up, crossing the room again. Clothes were tossed on the bed. The Sea Snake huffed, shoulders stiff as he stalked towards the door.

"I can think of far worse fates for my grandson than being 'stuck' with you," Corlys tossed back, turning briefly to meet Aegon's eyes. "One of them is currently stomping around my deck, demanding to see you."

It took him a long while to dress. Not least of all because he spent several minutes simply staring at the door of the cabin, mouth hanging open.

His sword was propped up against the wall. Once he'd bit his lip bloody getting his breeches on, he grabbed it.

Someone had cleaned it for him. The blade had no blood when Aegon pulled it from the sheath. His throat bobbed as he turned it in his hand. The edge caught the fire's light and the flames seemed to dance across the steel.

The Lyseni man wasn't his first kill. He was the first one who'd looked him in the eyes as Aegon had taken his life though. The first one Sunfyre had not erased from existence for the crime of standing in the path of his flames.

Sheathing the sword, Aegon strapped it on his hip again. He stumbled under its weight at first. The wound in his thigh was on his right leg, but all of his limbs were dotted with bruises.

"Don't fall," Aegon told himself, glaring at his reflection in the small mirror on Corlys' desk. He grit his teeth and reached for the shirt.

Aegon's vision went white when he bent his shoulder. He cried out, clutching at the mantle as he fell forward. Panting, he pressed his forehead against the treated wood, staring into the flames as tears prickled at his eyes again.

The adrenaline was gone. The panic. His fear lulling back, leaving him hollow.

He was just so tired. His body throbbed, a dull pulsing beneath his skin as he straightened up.

Rhaenys was looking down at him. Her portrait, expression so soft when he'd been on the bed, was not so kind when he stood in her shadow. The soft uptick of her lips that had been a smile was now a smirk.

"Stop judging me!" Aegon snapped at her, eyes narrowing on her face. There was no response. No change in her expression. The painting remained, the subject frozen in time, a young woman in Targaryen red, staring straight forward with hands clasped in front of her.

Turning his back on the fire, on Rhaenys, Aegon yanked his shirt down. Grunting as the fabric settled over his shoulder, as his arms dropped to his side.

The doublet on the bed could fuck off. Corlys had left him wrappings though. Long strips of pale fabric.

Aegon used his teeth to pull the knot tight around his wrist and something settled in his chest. His next breath seemed easier. His shoulders sagging as he let his head fall back.

Taking a slow breath, Aegon glanced down. It wasn't enough. Vermax was still visible. A hazy figure beneath the layers of light colored fabric, but still very clearly a dragon. A green one at that.

His old clothes would be better. Cut from his body, they were probably little more than bloody rags at this point. But the only thing Aegon could imagine that might possibly be worse than Daemon finding out that Jace was his soulmate, was Daemon thinking it was Baela instead.

It took only a few moments, and one slightly panicked search of the room, to find his vambraces. Folded up in the rest of his torn leathers on a table in the corner.

The black leather was thick and the gold designs on it would obscure the mark even if it was visible. But it wasn't. Aegon checked several times before he left the room. And then he checked again in the threshold of the door.

He was out of excuses now. Out of reasons to put off the short trek from Corlys' cabin to the lower deck of the Sea Snake.

Limping only slightly, Aegon drew himself up as tall as he could. Shoulders back. Chin up. He walked out into the evening air.

A few sailors were scattered about. None of them paying him any attention as the ship bobbed in the sea just off Bloodstone. Anchored a mile or so from the rocky shoreline where their fort was being built.

As promised, his uncle was waiting.

Chapter Text

Daemon was doing exactly what Corlys had said he was. Pacing the deck with heavy steps as he cast murderous glances towards the shore.

"I hadn't thought he would actually be stomping," Aegon called up to Corlys on the top deck and Daemon spun around to face him.

A bark of laughter from Corlys echoed in the dark. He grinned, "Targaryens rarely require exaggeration, in my experience." Daemon sent him a withering look, but the man ignored him.

"You're wearing a sword, but no shoes," Daemon approached him, forehead creasing as his eyes flicked over him. Aegon glanced down at his bare feet.

With a shrug, he wiggled his toes, "If I have to run, I've already lost." He looked back up at his uncle, "What are you doing here?"

Nose wrinkling, Daemon frowned. His gaze lingered on Aegon's shoulder. A faint needling beneath the dressings probably meant it was bleeding. Aegon ignored it.

"We have both had a fairly eventful couple of days, it seems," Daemon pursed his lips. He clasped his hands behind his back, "I don't believe the Red Keep has seen a search quite as frantic as the queen's when she discovered her only daughter was missing."

"Mother is always frantic," Aegon swallowed thickly. Daemon's eyebrows jumped up briefly and he stepped closer.

Daemon was no longer a towering figure. Barely taller than him, really. Aegon tipped his chin up, fluttering his lashes as his uncle narrowed his gaze.

"Is there a problem, uncle?" Aegon hummed, grinning mockingly up at him, "My sister returned, did she not?" Daemon growled. Jaw clenching, the man was nearly snarling as Aegon laughed, "I do hope Dreamfyre didn't startle you. She's not so sweet as Helaena, I know."

He did snarl then, openly scowling, "A dragon like Dreamfyre landing in the Red Keep is not a joke, Aegon!"

"No, it's not," Aegon agreed, still smiling. He forced himself to keep grinning, to maintain eye contact as Daemon stepped even closer. Their chests nearly touching, Daemon looked down at him, squinting. His head tilted.

"Did you really think it necessary? Such a show of force, just for Helaena to see the king?" Daemon lowered his voice, talking softly as he switched to Valyrian.

Aegon snorted, "Did it not work?" Daemon's lips twitched downward. Stepping back, Aegon bowed dramatically, arms going wide with a flourish, "Then it was necessary, wasn't it, uncle?"

"It worked so well, the king requested she stay with him through the night," Daemon told him and Aegon's smile dropped. "He was concerned. The Princess Helaena is not often prone to tears."

Rising back up, Aegon swallowed thickly as his vision swam. He reached for the railing and Daemon grabbed his arm, steadying him.

"A good thing, it turned out, as she woke half the castle in the middle of the night screaming," Daemon spoke directly in his ear, grip firm, "Ser Criston had to retrieve your brother from Vhagar in order to calm her. And then it took three of the kingsguard another hour to subdue him when he tried to return to his dragon."

Swaying on his feet, Aegon's gut twisted. He lurched forward and Daemon dragged him to the railing. Retching, Aegon clung to the wood, fingers digging in.

Helaena's dreams were never pleasant, and he did not have to guess what she'd seen the night before. Aegon wiped at his lips with his sleeve, breathing heavily.

"She thought I was going to die," Aegon whispered, turning his head to look up at Daemon. He seemed taller now. Or Aegon felt smaller, curling around the railing as his uncle nodded mutely.

They stood there. Staring at each other. Daemon's hand heavy on his back.

"A close thing, given your dragon's reaction," Daemon cleared his throat and inclined his head forward, breaking eye contact.

"Did... did anyone get hurt?" Aegon pushed himself up, wincing as he put too much weight on his leg.

In the sky before him, Sunfyre was gliding downward, wings skipping over the sea. Just above him, scales nearly dark enough to be hidden in the night sky, Caraxes followed. Stalking the smaller dragon.

"It was no easy feat, but we were able to subdue him," Daemon's lips twitched up, almost smiling, "He's a vicious little thing. Protective. Nearly toppled a ship, trying to follow after you."

"He's not little," Aegon huffed, nose wrinkling as he turned back to his uncle. He leaned back against the railing, bracing himself, "He's just younger."

Daemon hummed, eyebrow quirking up, "Yes. The youngest of all your siblings' dragons, I believe. The smallest." Aegon glared at him. "Tessarion should be about Syrax's size by now, at least, hmm?"

"How should I know?!" Aegon snapped, shoving off the railing. He broke from Daemon's grasp, switching back to the common tongue, "And you still haven't explained why you're here. The hand wouldn't have sent you just because my sister had a nightmare."

He didn't care that much, had never thought Helaena's dreams were anything more than her imagination. And even if Otto Hightower had been swayed by her fear, he wouldn't have sent Daemon.

"Your sister sent me," Daemon's voice was sharp and Aegon froze. "She'd have come herself, I think, but risking a warzone in her condition is dangerous."

Rhaenyra. He meant Rhaenyra. She was pregnant again. Jace had told him only a few weeks ago.

A bark of laughter behind him drew Aegon back around. Daemon was grinning broadly now, eyes flashing with a vicious sort of amusement, "I dare say, dealing with Sunfyre may not compare with the the dragons I left her with."

"Aemond-"

"Your brother was not the only prince who tried to follow me," Daemon cut him off, smirking, "The queen might have mounted Vhagar herself, given half a chance."

Eyes wide, Aegon glanced towards the upper deck. Corlys was watching them. His sailors had all disappeared below. Most of them likely on shore by now, recovering from the battle in the comfort of their tents. The Sea Snake stood, arms crossed, like a sentry.

"Like I said, Helaena was distraught," Daemon approached him again. Aegon took half a step back and he stopped. He frowned, "The king was concerned."

The wind blew around him. A breeze filled with the smell of the sea, of salt and seaweed. And soot. The ashen remnants of their attack, Sunfyre's rage and the wildfire, all of it blending with the air around him.

Aegon climbed the stairs up to the top deck with knuckles white on the railing. Corlys met him a few steps later, eyebrow arching.

In two years, Aegon hadn't asked Corlys for anything. Daemon had told him to, if he needed something. A few of Jace's letters had hinted at the same. But Aegon hadn't needed anything. Hadn't cared about anything enough to ask.

"I want to go home." Aegon's voice cracked. Corlys' forehead wrinkled, but he nodded. The ghost of a smile on his lips.

"You've done your part," Corlys agreed, raising a hand to pat gently at his right arm, "You've done well." He inclined his head towards the shore, "We'll get you to bed, rest a bit more. The maester at the camp can check your injuries, if he says you can fly, you can leave in the morning."

"I can fly," Aegon assured him. Corlys clicked his tongue, looking pointedly at his shoulder. "It'll be fine." Aegon took a step back.

Corlys narrowed his eyes on him, but Aegon just smiled. His eyes flicked up. Sunfyre was circling the ship. He took another step, towards the railing. Corlys stiffened.

"Aegon..." Corlys warned, voice low. And then he was shouting as Aegon ran for the railing. His feet slid on the deck, still slick from the rain and the sea. He slammed into the railing, gasping as stars exploded in his eyes.

With a sharp laugh, he pushed off, letting his weight carry him over the railing, flipping him over.

The sea rushed up, but Sunfyre was quicker, darting down to catch him before he could crash into the waves. Aegon landed in his saddle with a huff. Sunfyre banked hard away from the side of the ship, rising into the air as Aegon doubled over. He cringed, blood on his lip from biting back a scream.

But his laughter followed. Echoing over the water as he tossed his head back.

Caraxes snarled behind him and Aegon turned his head back towards the Sea Snake. Daemon was squeezing at the railing as he stood on the deck, eyes narrowed in a glare that tracked him through the air.

"To the shore!" Corlys barked, yelling across the water as he pointed towards the fort. He muttered something, snapping at Daemon as he stalked across the deck.

His words carried on the breeze, whispering over Aegon as he settled atop his dragon. Sunfyre cooed, wings beating slowly as they floated through the air.

'Crazy fucking Targaryens.' Aegon smiled to himself, pressing his cheek to golden scales. He closed his eyes.

Aemond would've been worse.

A low rumble rose up around him. Aegon's eyes fluttered open to find Caraxes, wings spread wide, hovering directly above him.

Sunfyre growled, nostrils flaring. Warmth tingled in his chest as fire rose behind his dragon's lips. Aegon pressed a hand to Sunfyre's back, just in front of his saddle.

The warmth died down. Sunfyre whined. Caraxes did not falter, did not budge from his position. A shadow above them. Body twice the size of Sunfyre's. Easily. Maybe even three times.

Aegon had no interest in being poked by a maester. He held tight to Sunfyre. He wanted to go home. Wanted to curl up in his saddle and sleep until the Red Keep was rising on the horizon. Until Vhagar's grumpy roar would wake him.

"To the shore," Aegon relented and Sunfyre coasted downward, wings still as they descended on Bloodstone. He roosted in his usual spot, landing atop the hill where he liked to sun himself. Sunfyre nested not far from Aegon's tent.

But he made no move to leave. With little care, Aegon crawled from his saddle to lay across Sunfyre's back. His dragon mewled, tail and neck wrapping around them as he curled up into a tight ball.

In the morning, he'd let the stupid maester check his injuries. Let Corlys and Daemon bully him into caring for himself maybe. But then he'd go home. Caraxes be damned.

"We'll show him, Sun. Show him what vicious, little things we really are," Aegon mumbled against the scales scratching at his cheek. Sunfyre tittered. His maw nudging at him softly before Sunfyre settled, head just beside him.

Aegon didn't so much as twitch when Corlys and Daemon approached him some time later. Well and truly asleep. But Sunfyre's lips curled back. Teeth bared as his chest rumbled.

No one woke him.

Chapter Text

Inhaling sharply, Aegon came awake with a start, nearly falling off Sunfyre. He scrambled to catch himself, whimpering as he slid down, scales rough against his bare skin and his wet shirt riding up. He grabbed for his saddle, but missed. Sunfyre whined, head rising, pushing Aegon up into a steady position.

"Thank you," Aegon pressed a hand to Sunfyre's maw. He smiled at his dragon as he took a few shaky breaths. His body was shaking too, shivering as the sky pelted him with rain.

Pushing his hair back, Aegon wrinkled his nose to discover it was plastered to his face. His neck. Some of it stuck to his shoulder, the wound stinging as he peeled his hair away from the dressing and adjusted his shirt.

"Alright," Aegon breathed out, eyes squeezing shut, "Corlys might've had a point about the maester." Sunfyre shrieked, snickering really, as he uncurled himself.

Aegon could take a hint. Sometimes.

"You're meant to be on my side, you beast," Aegon stuck his tongue out at his dragon as he slid down his side. Purposefully this time. His bare feet landed in the mud and he hissed, nearly falling to his knees as pain shot up and down his leg.

Sunfyre growled, tail flicking around to steady him once more. Aegon held on to him as he swallowed back bile, head swimming with pain. His feet sunk into the ground.

When he started walking, Aegon regretted his lack of shoes. He descended the hill, ignoring his own tent and making a beeline for the fort.

There was very little of it that was complete, but a few rooms were finished enough that a maester was summoned. The man had settled into one of the rooms, all of his various elixirs and herbs well-protected from the elements within the building's walls.

On his way, Aegon received several glances. It was early. Near dawn. Most of the camp was still asleep. Still recovering. He saw many with their own bandages and slings hidden beneath their cloaks.

Those who were awake stopped short when they saw him. Some froze at their tent flaps. Eyes widened, heads bowed. He hadn't received half so much attention when he'd first arrived, when everyone had still been calling him 'the prince' rather than the dragonrider.

More than a few cast their gazes up and down, surveying him with furrowed brows and pinched expressions.

Aegon didn't like it.

He rubbed absently at the leather of the vambrace secured on his arm. Fingers traced the golden designs as he trekked up another hill to the fort.

The weight of their stares on his back had Aegon's spine tingling. That might've been the bruises though. Even as he stepped into the fort, with the rain no longer aggravating his injuries, his body merely ached. Limbs throbbing. The nerves of his chest and back needling at him.

"You sent him into the fucking caves?!"

Daemon's shout drew Aegon's attention away from the maester's door. Biting at his lip, Aegon turned away from it. He followed the sound of his uncle's voice to the unfinished great hall.

Eavesdropping was easy when there were no barriers to dampen their voices. Plus, Daemon was yelling rather loudly.

"What other idiotic nonsense has your brother talked you into, Corlys? Have your archers been using him for target practice?!"

Filled with venom, Daemon's words were clipped. As were his steps and Aegon couldn't help but smile when he caught sight of the man. Pacing the length of the room as Corlys stood scowling nearby.

It reminded him of Aemond. His little brother was just as expressive, though he gestured slightly less.

"I have half a mind to feed that sniveling little shit to Caraxes once and for all!" Daemon screamed, hands flailing.

"You can't kill Vaemond," Aegon spoke up and both men snapped to attention, gazes sharp as they turned to find him in the doorway.

There was no door, of course, but the threshold was sturdy. Aegon reached out with his right arm, bracing himself against the wall. He grinned at them.

"I intend to mock him incessantly for his stupid plan. I can't do that if you feed him to Caraxes," Aegon reasoned, inclining his head back towards the main door. "And I think Sunfyre has dibs anyway."

Lip twitching up, Daemon quirked a brow, "Oh. I assure you, he does not."

"I've left him to hold the Gallows regardless, so you'll both have to wait," Corlys drawled. He folded his arms, leveling a look on Aegon, "As for you..."

Ah. Suddenly, Aegon was reminded of his current state. Injuries aside, he looked quite pathetic. Mud on his feet, hair dripping on the stone floor. And his clothes now stuck to his body like a second skin.

Aegon would bet a considerable amount of coin that his bruises were visible through the shirt he wore. The way Daemon's jaw clenched as he surveyed him was evidence enough of that.

"Is there any wine around somewhere?" Aegon asked, shifting his weight onto his left leg and rocking forward slightly. He chuckled, breath hitching as he winced, "If I'm getting lectured, I need wine first."

"The family resemblence is truly uncanny," Corlys seethed, nostrils flaring as he turned his gaze from Aegon to Daemon. His uncle startled back.

Hand rising to his chest, Daemon squawked, "I haven't even done anything! This time..." He scowled, face scrunching up. Head tilting, he furrowed his brow, "...at least, not that I'm aware of."

Corlys walked past him, snorting, "Your presence is enough." He approached Aegon, chin dropping as his eyes hardened, "Maester for you, boy. No more hiding with your dragon."

"Sleeping," Aegon corrected, though he leaned on Corlys as the man moved to help him, "I was sleeping on Sunfyre. You did tell me to rest, did you not?"

A giggle from behind them earned Daemon a withering look from Corlys. And then his uncle was sent across the camp to Aegon's tent.

"I am not a dog to fetch things," Daemon grumbled even as he secured his cloak and headed out. Aegon thought he had the better job, personally, as he was pushed into a chair in the maester's room.

"You've pulled your stitches out, it seems," the maester hummed once Aegon's breeches were peeled off. He inspected Aegon's thigh first, nose wrinkling as he pulled the dressing off.

Daemon returned halfway through the maester sewing the wound closed. He set the bundle of clothes on a table and uncorked the wine bottle in his hand. Aegon panted, glaring at his uncle as the man took a swig of the Arbor Red straight from the bottle.

He cried out as the needle went through his flesh. His vision blurred and his fingers dug into the muscle of his opposite leg. An action he regretted instantly as it ignited the bruises, sending his nerves vibrating as the maester finished his work.

"Are you certain you don't want any milk of the poppy?" Corlys stared at him from beside the door, frowning deeply. Aegon shook his head.

"Can't fly if I take that," Aegon looked to Daemon. Chest heaving, he raised his right arm to reach for the wine, "There's no way you found that anywhere but in my things, give it."

Lips puckering into a pout, Daemon handed him the bottle. He drank from it heavily. Slamming it down on the table after a moment. Breathing quickly, gulping down air as greedily as he had the wine.

It didn't help with the pain. The wine. Aegon needed it though, for the next part. Needed the slight buzz it brought to his mind as the alcohol settled in his empty stomach.

"I suppose those knights I found in your tent were right that you'd want that wine specifically," Daemon teased him as he approached. The maester directed him to help Aegon with his shirt. "You had quite the selection, from what I saw."

Aegon maneuvered his right arm and head from the wet fabric. He made no move to extricate his left. His throat bobbed as Daemon looked expectantly at the vambrace trapping the sleeve beneath itself.

"It's my favorite," Aegon told him, bundling the shirt around his forearm and holding it against his chest. With his right hand he reached for the wine again, "The Arbor makes the best wine."

"Most prefer Arbor Gold." Daemon hummed, but he didn't comment on Aegon's preference to sit in nothing but his smallclothes with his shirt bundled around his forearm. His gaze did linger though, even as he circled around to stand in front of Aegon, switching places with the maester.

"The gold is too sweet," Aegon said, jaw clenched as the maester removed the dressing from his shoulder. He hissed as a clean cloth was pressed to the wound.

Daemon inhaled sharply as the cloth was set aside. Corlys was suddenly standing beside him as well, forehead wrinkling.

"What?" Aegon asked, hand tight around the bottle as he saw the red and green streaks on the cloth. He brought the wine to his lips again, grimacing as the movement of his neck brought with it a burning sensation. His shoulder tingling. "The bolt only grazed me."

"Yes, your grace, it... the wound is not deep. Several layers of skin were ripped off, torn through, really. The wound itself is nothing... nothing too concerning." The maester cleared his throat as he shuffled off towards his shelves.

Aegon turned his head despite the stab of pain it sent down his arm. He couldn't see the wound. Not properly. But he could see the blisters. The remnants of his skin bubbling around the edges of the torn flesh.

"It would seem they coated the bolt in wildfire."

The maester explained when he turned back around and Aegon caught his eye. The man ducked his head over a mortar, mouth a firm line as Aegon watched him. He recognized some of the ingredients being blended together.

Leaves meant to calm inflamation. Herbs for infection.

"My apprentice on Corlys' ship did a fine job with the salve he applied, but the rain has washed that away. Aggravating the injury I'm sure, as the dressing shifted against the skin," the maester continued, shooting Aegon a quick look, "Not to mention your... activities."

Frowning, Aegon turned back around to find Daemon and Corlys exchanging a look. A silent conversation happening, all in the lines of their foreheads and twitching of their jaws.

His lips curled back, snarling, "I'm going home today." They both startled. Lips pursed. Aegon growled, "I am."

"It may be better to recover some first, your grace," Corlys tried, inclining his head forward in a slight bow. Daemon mimicked him. Movements stiff as he censored himself. Aegon scoffed.

"You left yesterday morning, yes?" Aegon snapped at Daemon. His voice low, icy, "You may have faith that your wife can hold him back, but I know my brother. Aemond will come. And I think Vhagar with her rider might pose a greater challenge for Caraxes to subdue than Sunfyre without me."

They both straightened. Corlys rolled his shoulders back as Daemon swallowed thickly. Aegon's grin was vicious, teeth bared, lips pulled back.

"Sunfyre is quite quick. I can be back in King's Landing for lunch, if I leave soon," Aegon told them both, chin rising, "And I will be."

Chapter Text

When Aegon returned to Sunfyre, he found his dragon had company. Gendry and Jory were at the base of his hill, huddled beneath their cloaks as Sunfyre watched them with a sharp gaze.

"Your grace," Jory bowed his head as Aegon approached. Gendry did the same while Jory smiled, "Prince Daemon said you were heading back to King's Landing." He hefted a leather satchel beneath his cloak into view. "I thought you might want to take your things with you, rather than waiting for the next ship to return them."

"Just the important things, your grace," Gendry told him, lifting another bag. This one clinked.

Aegon grinned, eyebrow arching, "Just the red I assume?" Gendry nodded and Jory rolled his eyes.

"You don't like the gold anyway," Gendry quipped as Aegon started up the hill. He beckoned them to follow, shushing Sunfyre as they secured the satchels to his saddle for him.

He stood there, shifting awkwardly on his feet, as they finished. Jory bowed his head, voice a whisper, "The letters you kept are at the bottom, your grace. I tucked them into one of your doublets. The one with the red stitching."

Cheeks burning, Aegon ducked his head. He avoided their eyes as he thought of the bundle of letters he'd kept inside his wardrobe. The broken seal on each of them had a coiled seahorse and dragon. And Jace's named signed at the bottom.

"The ones from my mother or..." Aegon swallowed thickly, looking up at him through his lashes. Jory smirked and shook his head.

"Those are near the top, your grace, along with the ones from your siblings."

They knew too much, these two knights. Aegon surveyed them. His brow furrowing. They were relaxed, at ease despite the golden dragon standing only a few feet from them.

Steam rose up from Sunfyre's scales as the rain poured down, nearly drenching them even in their cloaks. A shout from the camp drew Aegon's eye and he turned his head to find that many of the men were staring at them.

"Why are they all so... interested?" Aegon wrinkled his nose, arms crossing as he tried to shrug off the attention. It was disconcerting, all the staring since he'd woken up. He hadn't done anything different during this last battle than he had in the last two years.

Except the part where he'd been knocked from his dragon. And that certainly wasn't impressive.

"Well, you see, they've all just come to the realization yesterday that you're fucking insane," Gendry drawled, looking pointedly from Aegon to Sunfyre, "Cooing and playing with your beast like he's a cat every day had given them a rather false impression, your grace."

"What he means..." Jory sighed, head falling forward as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "...is that we all witnessed your dragon when he wasn't under your control, your grace. Even when Prince Daemon pinned him beneath Caraxes-"

"Sunfyre threw him off," Gendry cut in, snickering as Jory elbowed him. He shrugged, still laughing, "Burned more than a few cliffs and every inch of dirt on that island before following Caraxes out over the sea finally. All while thrashing about and just generally terrifying everyone with his shrieking."

Jory huffed, glaring at his partner, "You weren't even there, you were on the Sea Snake for most of that."

Brows arched high and Gendry snorted, "They're dragons, Jor, I could see them from the ship just fine."

"So... what? They're all afraid of Sunfyre now?" Aegon glanced back at the camp. A few people ducked into tents when they noticed him watching. "They've seen him burn things before."

"I do believe it's you they're afraid of, actually," Jory pursed his lips. He inclined his head towards Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm roosting a few miles away. Glaring menacingly from his perch. "Everyone knows a dragon is a reflection of their rider. Or, that's what all the older knights said, the ones who served with Prince Daemon and Ser Laenor last time."

Gendry hummed, shrugging vaguely, "Most people thought you were... I believe the terms I heard most were immature and lazy." He quirked his head, laughing. "Your grace."

Rude. That was entirely accurate, but still. Aegon rubbed absently at his left forearm. His vambrace was in place over his regular wrappings, a dark shirt, and a doublet that Corlys had helped him into even.

Even so, all the eyes on him, the attention. It was as if they could all see through him, could see the truth hidden on his arm. See what he was hiding, like Corlys had, and the portrait of Rhaenys on his ship.

"Now they know the truth," Gendry added after a moment, lips twitching up. Aegon startled, eyes wide with panic.

"You might cast yourself as a drunkard, your grace, but you're still a Targaryen," Jory smiled at him, lips pulled thin as he laughed, "Fire and blood, yes? They're your words for a reason."

Aegon blinked, eyes wide. They both bowed their heads, stepping back. "Wait," he stepped forward, following them. They paused, lashes fluttering. Aegon bit his lip. He hesitated a moment, then nodded, voice clippped, "Thank you."

"For what, your grace?" Jory's face scrunched up, brow furrowing. Aegon swallowed.

"Not thinking I was lazy the whole time, I guess?" Aegon rolled his shoulders back and Gendry snorted.

He smirked, gaze flicking over him slowly, "You're far from lazy, your grace." Aegon coughed, turning his head away as a blush rose on his cheeks. "Something your king will appreciate, I'm sure," Gendry said and Aegon's head snapped back.

He didn't mean the actual king. The current king.

Gendry held his gaze. Aegon's chest tightened. He let them leave this time, when they bowed their heads and stepped away. Aegon watched them walk down the hill. They ducked into his tent and Aegon let out a breath.

Too much. They knew far too much. Not just about him. Sunfyre grumbled beside him, shaking out his wings as his nostrils flared.

But it didn't matter. Aegon was leaving, headed home. Finally. And they were loyal knights, sworn to House Velaryon. Corlys would handle them, would ensure any secrets they knew stayed with them.

Jace was a Velaryon. At least for now. They owed him their loyalty too. Their protection.

"Time to go," Aegon shook himself, ignoring all the twinges that brought to the surface. The maester had given him something for the bruises too, to help with the pain.

It didn't. His vision blurred as Sunfyre took off. Golden scales going hazy as he gasped with pain. He wrapped the reins around his wrist. Leaning forward, Aegon settled on his saddle, grip tight as Sunfyre circled once, twice.

"Take me home, boy," Aegon whispered, pressing a hand to Sunfyre's scales as Caraxes rose into the sky. The rain pelted him, soaking through to his skin even with the cloak and the doublet.

By the time King's Landing was visible on the horizon, Aegon was shivering again. His fingers were twitching in the reins, numb and faintly red. He pressed them to Sunfyre's scales every few minutes, grimacing as the heat woke the nerve endings and sent tendrils of pain shooting up his arms.

Vhagar welcomed him with a burst of fire that filled the air above the kingswood. Just as he expected. She stomped around, her screeching almost joyful as he descended into the Dragon Pit after Caraxes. Aemond would be absolutely unbearable, for sure, spitting with rage, just like his beast.

"Careful!" Daemon yelled at the dragonkeepers, rushing from Caraxes as Aegon stumbled from his saddle. Sunfyre snapped at them all, growling as Aegon leaned against his side.

There was a look, a very pointed look, as Daemon surveyed him. Aegon ignored it entirely. He straightened up, biting back a groan as he started walking towards the covered cart waiting by the entrance.

"You're annoyingly stubborn," Daemon huffed as he appeared at Aegon's side, wrapping an arm around his waist. Just for that, Aegon let him take most of his weight. His thigh was fucking screaming at him.

Daemon was warm.

Not Sunfyre warm, but it was better than nothing. Especially once they got in the cart.

Aegon was fairly positive his limbs were half ice at this point, Daemon hissed when he cupped Aegon's face. The warmth of his palm had Aegon's eyes rolling back and a soft whine escaping from his lips.

"We need to get you warm," Daemon pulled him into his chest, wrapping Aegon in his arms. He could hear Daemon's teeth grinding as he hooked his chin over Aegon's head. "You're a fucking idiot, nephew. A stubborn, fucking idiot."

Practically cradled in his uncle's warmth, Aegon blinked slowly. He chuckled, laughter tipping over into hysterical as he burrowed into the man's chest, "Takes one to know one." Daemon growled, but didn't say anything.

The second he was in the Keep properly, Aegon unclasped his cloak. It fell like a stone, making a decidely wet slap against the floor. He'd deal with the rest of his clothes later.

It was easier to walk without the added weight. He was limping only slightly. Able to stand unaided just fine even.

"Where's the queen?" Aegon asked the first servant he saw. Daemon wrinkled his nose beside him.

"You ought to change first, Aegon, get warm, you're already-"

Aegon headed towards the Grand Hall and Daemon groaned behind him. A kingsguard opened the door for him, announcing his and Daemon's appearance.

His uncle stopped at the threshold. Eyes wide as he took in the man sitting upon the Iron Throne.

Viserys rose shakily, leaning heavily on his cane. His smile was bright. Warm even. Aegon didn't know what to do with that. At the base of the throne, flanking it as court was held, stood the various members of the Small Council. His mother included.

Smiling at her, Aegon dipped his head and gestured wide, "Your grace."

Alicent gasped when she saw him, hand rising to her lips. She raced across the hall and Aegon grunted as she wrapped him tightly in her arms.

"You're back!" his mother held him, weeping openly. Her hands cupped his face as she drew back only slightly. Fingers nearly as cold as his own. She laughed, wet and gasping, and then rose onto her toes to kiss his forehead.

"I heard Helaena made quite the entrance the other day," Aegon wrapped his right arm around her as she hugged him again. "I couldn't let her have all the fun."

Another kiss was pressed to his cheek, her lashes were heavy with tears as she shook her head, "She said it was your idea." Her lips pursed, "How you made trouble all the way from the Stepstones I'll never known."

"It's a talent, Mother," Aegon chuckled, and then he hissed, nearly crumpling to the floor as her hands moved to lay on his shoulders. She caught him though and then they were both sinking down.

"Aegon!" Alicent's voice was high, panicked, as she screamed his name. And then it was steel. Cutting through the air as sharp as a blade when she called out for the grandmaester.

Daemon appeared above him, or a figure he assumed was his uncle, given the way his vision was blurring. The timber of his voice confirmed it, "Careful of his left shoulder, your grace. And his right thigh. Yes, there. Stitches for an arrow, Corlys said."

Oh great. His uncle was going to be the one telling the maester about his injuries. His mother.

"I'm fine," Aegon's voice slurred and he moved to brace himself, to sit up. Hands slapped at his. His mother chidded him.

"Out!" A voice rang out, strong and booming.

Aegon's nose wrinkled.

It was familiar. Bright, bell-like even, as it commanded the lords and ladies of court from the throne room. When it spoke again, quieter, closer, it all slotted in to place.

"Is it safe to move him? Should I call for a litter, your grace?"

Rhaenyra. His sister was kneeling on the floor beside him. Aegon lay in his mother's lap, the edges of his vision going black.

"He made the flight here, I would assume it safe to carry him to my rooms for examination, at least," the wizened words could only come from a maester and they were quickly followed by a snort from Daemon.

"He made the flight, yes, but against the recommendation of the maester, myself, and Corlys. The wound on his shoulder is from a scorpion bolt, dipped in wildfire. It threw him from his dragon."

"Seven hells!" Another voice, like Daemon's, but further back. "How is he even walking?!" Aegon tilted his head, squinting past his uncle. Gold upon his head. The king.

Forehead wrinkling, Aegon whined. His words shaking. "It's not that bad." He shuddered as a hand touched at his forehead. "Just cold." He blinked slowly, sluggishly.

"A litter," his mother said firmly and then Rhaenyra was standing. Her voice seemed to shake the whole room as she summoned servants.

The maester protested, stammering out half an excuse about him being conscious before his mother snapped.

"A litter. And you will examine him in my chambers, is that understood?"

Aegon snickered, head lulling to the side. His eyes fluttered closed. He'd missed that. The sharp words of reprimand. His mother's tone. Her voice.

He said as much, as he passed out. Words mumbled against his mother's skirts.

Chapter Text

The scrap of stone against itself had Aegon's face scrunching up. A shadow passed over him, standing between him and the heat pouring out from the fireplace nearby. He shuddered. His next breath had him trembling, whining.

He was in his mother's apartments somewhere, squirreled away in a back room that was only accessible through her receiving room. There were knights sworn to House Targaryen and several kingsguard standing between him and any who wanted to see him.

Vaguely, he remembered being stripped. A sharp command from the king not to remove his vambrace or wrappings unless strictly necessary. The maester's hands, slick with some sort of salve and cold on his back.

And his mother. A voice in his ear. The soft press of lips to his forehead.

Rest. He'd been told to rest. Commanded to, really, by both the king and the queen. Somewhere, Daemon was probably smirking, absolutely smug.

"Uncle, are you awake?" Someone was whispering to him.

A hand grazed over his arm and Aegon moaned as the heat burst through his body, spreading beneath his skin like wildfire. He grabbed for them, fingers tight on their wrist as he dragged them down onto the bed with him.

Gasping, Aegon wrapped himself around their body, drowning himself in their warmth. It flooded his senses. The aches, the pains, all of it falling away as the heat coiled in his gut. He clung to them, his left hand tight in their doublet as he folded his arm between them.

"Egg! Your shoulder!" The wrist in his hold jerked away.

Another hand cupped his cheek and Aegon's body burned. He buried his face in their throat, lips pressing to warm skin as he moaned. They were solid beneath him, holding him as he writhed atop their body.

It had never been like this before. Not with anyone. Gendry. Jory. Mysaria's whores. Men, women. He'd once been tangled together with three whores at once and it hadn't even come close to this. This fire. This heat blazing inside him.

"Please," Aegon begged, panting, eyes still closed. His right hand clawed through their hair, fisting in the short strands.

He didn't know who they were, didn't really care. Aegon just didn't want them to leave.

An arm wrapped around his waist, a hand settled against his back. The one cupping his face slid over his jaw, gentle. Careful.

"I've got you, Egg."

The voice was rough. Husky. They whispered against his forehead and his forearm throbbed. An old pressure. Pulsing. His soulmark coming alive after two years of numb pain. Nerves alight, bursting with pleasure.

"Oh fuck!" Aegon's eyes snapped open and he tried to scramble away, pushing and shoving at the firm chest beneath him.

But Jace held him still, arm tight around his waist. Aegon whined, collapsing back against him as the pain in his body came rushing back to him.

"You're still cold, uncle, let me warm you up," Jace's fingers danced down his throat. Aegon stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Gods, Jace was beautiful. He'd known, always, that his nephew would be handsome, would grow to be the sort of king everyone always pictured in the old stories.

It was one thing to know it would happen. It was another to be staring the evidence in the face. And it was a very nice face.

Jace had been a week shy of his thirteenth nameday when Aegon had last seen him. Face still rounded mostly, with a child's chubby cheeks and hair that fell into his eyes.

In a few short months he'd be fifteen. The chubby cheeks had melted away to reveal a square jaw. His features somehow sharper, more intense. His shoulders were as broad as Aegon's now and his chest was solid. Aegon's fingers twitched in Jace's doublet, firm muscles beneath his palm.

This was bad. So very, very bad. Aegon bit his lip as his gaze zeroed in on Jace's. Plump, juicy, and spreading into a wicked grin as Aegon's cheeks burned.

"Careful, uncle," Jace laughed at him as Aegon made another useless effort to extricate himself. "You shouldn't move so much, the cut in your shoulder looks really nasty."

Panting, Aegon ducked his head. He cursed again, this time in Valyrian. Face against Jace's chest, Aegon became even more aware of just how deep the grave was that he'd dug himself.

Jace was dressed. Doublet, breeches, even shoes. But all Aegon had on was his smallclothes. The sheets tangled around his legs provided no modesty. No cover.

He was hard. His cock throbbing with need. A spot was certainly already forming in his smallclothes and there was no way Jace couldn't feel it where Aegon was pressed against his hip.

Fuck. Aegon glanced back up at his face. Jace was smirking. His eyes bright, like a flint catching the flame. Burning.

"I've missed you, Egg," Jace cupped his face again, thumb swiping over his cheek, "A lot." Aegon's eyes fluttered, his chest heaving as Jace's gaze lowered.

Teeth bit into those lips he liked so much and Aegon actually whimpered. Jace's eyes snapped back up, throat bobbing. When Aegon pushed himself away this time Jace let him go.

His nephew settled back against the headboard as Aegon got his legs folded underneath himself. He winced only once, when he braced himself on his left arm and his shoulder throbbed from the effort.

"You've grown," Aegon croaked, tugging blankets over his lap. He swallowed thickly as he raised his eyes to look at Jace again. The distance made it easier. Easier to resist surging forward to kiss his nephew. To resist devouring him.

"I'd say the same, but..." Jace tilted his head, grinning as he looked Aegon up and down pointedly, "I don't think you have."

With a huff, Aegon rolled his eyes, "I have! I'm nearly as tall as Daemon now!"

"If you say so." Jace snorted, laughter quick to follow as Aegon narrowed his eyes on him. His nephew's smile faltered and his gaze lingered on the bandage wrapped around his thigh. "What happened?"

"Arrow," Aegon shrugged, then hissed as a stab of pain shot through his shoulder. Jace leaned forward, brow furrowing. Aegon groaned, "It's not so bad as it looks, I promise."

With a snort, Jace quirked a brow, "It looks disgusting. Like your flesh is literally melting." Aegon's brow furrowed and he tilted his head. Jace nodded towards his shoulder, "The cut. Have you seen that yet? Properly."

No. No, he hadn't. The glimpse of blisters he'd gotten on the Stepstones probably hadn't done it justice. Aegon pursed his lips and then Jace was moving.

"Come on," Jace slipped from the bed. He held out an arm and Aegon bit his lip as he accepted the help.

The heat was less overwhelming this time, trickling in as their sides met. Jace pulled him close and Aegon's head spun. He gasped out, eyes fluttering as he let Jace take his weight.

"You're always freezing," Jace huffed. His hand settled on Aegon's waist and Aegon whimpered, eyes rolling back as Jace's palm made contact with his bare skin.

"Fuck, I haven't been this warm in years," Aegon admitted, head falling against Jace's shoulder, panting. His nephew chuckled. Lips ghosted over his ear.

"Happy to be of service, my prince," Jace whispered and the warmth blooming in his chest wasn't all from the body heat.

A shiver crawled down his spine. Gods, his nephew had no idea what he was doing to him. Jace's teasing was torturous. Intoxicating even, and Aegon couldn't help but lean in to every touch.

Aegon whined, eyes falling closed and his mouth open as Jace raised his other hand to his face. Thumb swiping over Aegon's blushing cheek, "Perhaps I should keep you here, hmm? Tucked up against me. Your color's already better than when I first arrived."

His color. Aegon scoffed. Glaring, he inclined his head towards the dressing table nearby, "Mock me later, help now."

Jace obliged, half carrying him to the seat in front of the mirror. Aegon blew out a breath as he sat down, back to the table. His thigh was throbbing. Sharp pain stabbing up and down from the wound there even with the little weight he put on it.

"The maester put something on it, I'm not sure if it's actually helping though," Jace searched the drawers, pulling out a small mirror to hand to Aegon.

"Well, it's not actively burning right now," Aegon mused as he lifted his right arm. There was another mirror behind him, a larger one, propped up on the table. His reflection was visible, as was Jace's quirked brow.

Not actively burning had, in fact, been an overestimation of his state. Aegon blinked as he stared at the festering wound.

A long cut slashed across his upper back, from the edge of his left shoulder blade a diagonal slice rose all the way across to his arm. The skin was bright red, some of it obviously torn and twisted from the force of the bolt ripping across his body. Perhaps most concerning, was the bubbling. Blisters of varying sizes dotted the skin around the main cut, but inside there was a green hue to the seared flesh.

The entire thing was glistening. Whatever salve the maester had coated his skin in made it shine. Aegon couldn't really feel it beyond a faint tingling sensation, but he was fairly positive Jace was right. It wasn't helping.

"Well fuck," Aegon dropped his arm. Clearing his throat, he looked up at his nephew with a tight smile, "I maintain that it's not as bad as it looks."

His nephew didn't buy that. His arms crossed over his chest, lips pulling down in a frown, "You're a horrible liar, Egg."

Rude. Aegon ducked his head, laughing softly even as his shoulder stung. He took a few shallow breaths. His body cooling.

Jace moved away and his body temperature plummeted. Aegon whined, eyes squeezing shut as he shivered. But then Jace was kneeling in front of him, hands resting on his knees.

"How about we get you dressed?" Jace asked him, head tilting as he smiled. Aegon flushed. His head bobbed in a quick nod.

He didn't have to stand up at first. Jace tucked his feet into the breeches he'd retrieved from somewhere and pulled them up to his knees. Hands slid beneath his thighs, lifting him faintly as Jace worked them further up his legs.

Biting his lip, Aegon tried not to moan as he wiggled his hips in Jace's hold. Those warm hands over his ass were going to feature heavily in his fantasies going forward and Aegon couldn't find the energy to shove them away. He inhaled sharply as Jace reached for his laces.

He'd had people dress him before. Women. Men. Hell, Aegon had let a man reduce him to a babbling mess and then not even blinked when the man tied his breeches closed a few minutes later with the same hand.

But Jace was different. His nephew's fingers skimming over his small clothes as he tightened the laces up. He tied them closed, completely ignorant to the way Aegon's cock was throbbing, to the perverted thoughts flashing across Aegon's mind at their position.

Eventually, Jace stood up, walking back towards the chest of drawers against the opposite wall. Sitting on top of them were two leather satchels. Aegon blinked as Jace pulled one of his shirts from his bags.

"They brought those here? Not my room?" Aegon's forehead wrinkled as Jace returned. His nephew shrugged, bundling the shirt up to present Aegon with the wrist of the left sleeve beside his hand.

Aegon's throat bobbed as he did as he was told. Jace was careful not to touch his forearm, his fingers tight in the dark fabric until he'd rolled the sleeve up past Aegon's elbow. It went over his head next and then Aegon bent his right arm into its sleeve.

He realized, as Jace was tugging at the collar on his left side, that it was backwards. His nephew smirked as he tucked the front flaps back, one of them against his chest. With some careful maneuvering and some pins he'd dug up from the dressing table, Jace managed to leave his entire left shoulder exposed.

"It's a burn right? The shirt would just aggravate it, without a proper dressing to keep the fabric off it yes?" Jace explained as he backed off again. He perched on the side of the bed. "I've not read much on the medicinal arts, but burns seemed a pertinent subject."

"I suppose so, it certainly looks like one," Aegon hummed, raising the little mirror again to take another look, "But I think that's just the wildfire that was on the bolt."

"The what?" Jaw clenched, Jace's voice was rough, nearly a growl and Aegon's gut twisted. A shiver climbing up his spine as he turned his head to find his nephew narrowing his eyes on him. Gaze hot as his face pinched into a scowl.

Gods, why was that making him hard again? Aegon whimpered, "Daemon didn't tell you?" The scowl twisted, lips curling back.

Jace exhaled slowly, "No. I was in the yard with Baela when we saw Sunfyre flying overhead. I'm meant to be at my lessons right now, but everyone is a bit distracted with getting Aemond back across the river so-"

"Wait, what? Is Aemond-" Aegon clamped his mouth shut as Jace glared at him. He coughed, lips pursing.

"He went to see Vhagar, Baela and I distracted Cole," Jace told him flatly. His jaw twitched, "I used his distraction to sneak off and come find you. Baela's probably interrogating her father now. No one would tell us anything when you first came back, just that you collapsed in the throne room."

Ah. That was probably not a good thing. Aemond was... well, Aegon doubted his brother had become less emotionally repressed and angry in his absence. Vhagar certainly hadn't gotten any calmer.

He'd deal with that later. One grumpy dragon at a time.

"It was a scorpion bolt," Aegon gestured towards his shoulder, "Knocked me off of Sunfyre. The maester on Bloodstone said it had been coated in wildfire."

"Why the fuck would they have wildfire?!" Jace huffed, arms crossing as he stood up. He didn't pace, but he did tense, every inch of him thrumming with anger.

Aegon grinned at the wall, lips pulled wide in vicious smile, "Don't know, but it didn't go particularly well for them, once they shot at Sunfyre."

Jace blinked. His arms dropped to his side. Aegon beckoned him closer, fisting a hand in the back of Jace's doublet as he ratcheted himself up onto his feet.

With a giggle, Aegon leaned against him again, chest pressed to his nephew's side. He ducked his head to Jace's ear, "They're dead. I'm not. So stop worrying, hmm? My mother will surely do more than enough for all of us."

"You should rest, Egg," Jace mumbled, shuddering as Aegon clung to him, using him to keep himself steady. A hand cupped his face, "Let's lay back down, I'll keep you warm."

He didn't moan this time, as Jace pulled Aegon on top of him. Aegon smothered all his noises in Jace's shoulder. He settled, breathing slowly, as Jace's hand moved up and down his back. Fingers grazing over his body, gentle as a feather.

It didn't mean anything. It was like before, when he'd taught Jace Valyrian. His nephew was just helping him. It didn't mean anything.

"I missed you too," Aegon whispered against his chest, eyes closing as he let the warmth overtake him. Dragging him into a blissful sleep, drowning out the throbbing muscles and aching bruises. Jace's hand paused for just a moment. Aegon's breathing evened out.

Faintly, he felt the press of something warm against his forehead. Something soft. Aegon wouldn't remember it, when he woke up, but he smiled as Jace kissed his cheek next.

Chapter Text

Someone was shouting.

Aegon whined, face scrunching up as he tried to bury his face in his pillow. Said pillow rumbled beneath him, laughing as fingers snaked through his hair.

"I need to go Egg, I think your mother's coming," Jace whispered. A hand raked down his back and Aegon hummed, letting his nephew shift them around on the bed.

Eyes fluttering, Aegon ended up sitting with his legs hanging over the edge and a pillow clasped against his chest as Jace disappeared behind a secret door. At least now he knew exactly where he was in his mother's apartment. Or, he would, once the fog of sleep had lifted.

"It has been one catastrophe after another since Helaena's nameday!"

The shouting. Aegon blinked, head turning towards the door. It was nearer now. He could make out the voices, the words.

"Your children are running wild, Alicent! Flying off to the Stepstones, flouting the rules, ignoring all manner of proper decorum-"

"Aegon knew I was worried!" His mother interrupted the hand, her voice cracking, "He knew I needed to see him, he came straight to me from the Dragon Pit, you heard Daemon."

Snorting, Otto Hightower was gruff, "Yes. Daemon. No doubt he let the boy walk straight into the throne room, well aware of exactly how it would look."

Face scrunching up, Aegon glared at the door. Far be it from him to defend Daemon, but his uncle had tried to stop him. Not successfully. Or even particularly hard. But he'd tried.

"He appeared weak, Alicent. A boy running to hide behind his mother's skirts or tug on her apron strings. Not a man, not a warrior, certainly not a king."

"He-he's been gone two years. He nearly died-"

"And if the king dies tomorrow, he might as well have let those pirates on the Stepstones finish the job," Otto hissed at her. Aegon swallowed. His eyes flicked to the wall, to the spot where the stone had given way to allow entrance into the hidden passages that wove through these rooms.

Jace was his mother's son. He liked Aegon, cared for him. But his loyalty would always be to Rhaenyra.

"He must be strong, Alicent, for all our sakes. For yours, his siblings," Otto pushed, sighing heavily. Aegon breathed slowly. His eyes squeezed shut. "The lords will support him as Viserys' first born son, but not if they view him as a child."

This was how it was here. Waiting with baited breath to see if the next morning would bring an executioner's blade. If the king would die and Rhaenyra would snuff out his life. Aemond's life. Daeron's.

"The king came to court," his mother hiccuped, voice catching, "He was... I haven't seen him so alert, so happy in a long while. The visit from Helaena, Aegon's return, maybe-"

"It never lasts, Alicent, you know that," his grandfather's voice quieted. A low mumble as his mother sobbed.

The Stepstones had been easier - the lines clearly defined. He knew who the enemy was. Even Vaemond, for all his little power grabs, his attempts to curry his brother's favor. He'd been obvious. A snake, but an honest one.

Rhaenyra was always smiling at them. Laughing at their jokes. Sending Daemon to the Stepstones.

He wanted to trust her, wanted to run to her rooms like he had as a child, tug at her skirts until she answered his questions. Until she promised they'd be safe in her court.

The door opened and his mother startled at seeing him. She stepped inside. The door clicked closed behind him. Her voice was quiet, "You're awake."

"Yes," Aegon matched her tone. His mother pursed her lips, hands clasping as she approached him. He swallowed, "Do you really think that... that she'd..."

Would his sister really have him killed? His brothers?

His mother's opinion of Rhaenyra was as stable as the king's health. She could be raging against her one day and watching her from the window with longing in her eyes the next. Their relationship was complex. Aegon had never quite figured out why, or where it started. Or, more importantly, where it fell apart.

"I... I don't know," his mother croaked, tears escaping from her lashes to run down her cheek.

Alicent didn't bother to wipe them away. She took a heavy breath, sitting on the bed beside him. A hand cupped his cheek. Trembling eyes flickered over her face.

"When you were younger, before..." she trailed off, throat bobbing. His mother held his gaze, "I would've thought her incapable of it, once."

He'd thought that, before Driftmark.

A thumb swiped at his own tears, "But it is not just herself she must defend now, and there is but one thing Rhaenyra and I have always had in common." His mother held his face, her hold nearly bruising, "We would do anything to protect our children."

Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. He bowed his head, hissing as it pulled on his shoulder. It was starting to tingle now, to burn. With his face pressed to his mother's shoulder, Aegon took a shaky breath, almost sobbing.

"I don't want to be king," Aegon whispered to her. His mother held him, rocking him slightly. She didn't say anything. Never said he didn't have to be. Didn't tell him what to do. But he knew what was expected, what she would need him to do. Eventually.

"Your father wants to have a proper welcome feast for you in a few days," Alicent pulled away, pushing his hair from his face, "And tonight is family dinner, if you're up for it."

Lip twitching up, Aegon nodded. He knew an order when he heard one. Even when his mother didn't phrase it as such.

"I'll have the maester come, to put something on your shoulder so you can dress..." the queen's eyes flicked over his rumbled clothes, his backward shirt. She frowned, "...properly."

He was home. Truly now.

Back in this constant tug of war, scrambling for power in the king's court. For scraps of attention from his father. Shielding his mother as best he could. His siblings.

He didn't trust his grandfather. Never had, really, for all Otto said he was trying to protect them. To save them.

But he couldn't trust Rhaenyra either.

"I sent Helaena to get your brother," his mother said as she returned with the maester. She pursed her lips as one of Mellos' assistants applied a wet dressing to his burn. One soaked in some sort of healing elixir. It stung. "Any time he's not spending in the yard, Aemond is with his dragon."

"That's good. The stronger the bond, the better," Aegon hummed, breath hitching as the maester layered further dressings over the wound. His hands shook as a cotton cover was tied across his shoulder.

The maester pressed a hand over the wound as he tightened the bindings. Aegon grunted, head falling forward.

His mother hovered beside him, hands wringing, "Yes. That's what your father says too."

A maid brought fresh clothes for him. A shirt that opened completely in the front. A black doublet with a golden dragon embroided over the front. The maid also brought a basin of water. Rags.

"I worry, of course," his mother lingered, pacing a small circle around the room as the maester left and two servants began to wash him.

Aegon paid the servants little mind as he moved to the chair by the table. He held the towel over his shoulder as they wet his hair. Soap was worked into his scalp. Another scrubbed at his arms.

All the while, the queen fretted. She fiddled with things on the dressing table. His blanket was folded back to the end of the bed. Her nails were spared her attention only briefly.

"Vhagar has grown only more... difficult," the queen huffed, eyes squeezing shut as she paused. Finally, in her vague ramblings, his mother had come to her point, "Even Ser Criston cannot approach too closely. Several guards have been injured, despite Aemond's attempts to calm her, when they were sent to retrieve him."

He did not ask who's guards they were. His mother would never send anyone but Cole to get Aemond, not when he was with Vhagar. That she'd asked Helaena to get him this time meant his brother was surely in a mood.

"It has... the Small Council has begun discussing whether Vhagar ought to remain so close to the Red Keep."

Aegon turned his head, brow furrowing, "They want to send Aemond away?" His mother pursed her lips. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded. "Where?"

"That would be the, uh, the discussion," she laughed breathily, hand wrapping around the post of his bed. Knuckles white.

Biting at his lip, Aegon dropped his gaze to the floor. There weren't many places that could maintain a dragon like Vhagar. Only two really, outside King's Landing.

"Who brought it up?" Aegon asked, throat bobbing. He closed his eyes as the maid tipped his head back. Warm water was poured over his scalp, filling the basin held precariously behind him.

The water splashed against the towel covering his shoulder. He stiffened, suppressing a flinch. The servants rinsed his hair twice more before his mother finally admitted it.

"The head dragonkeeper brought the concern to the council a few weeks ago."

Inhaling sharply, Aegon straightened his neck. The servants began to dry his hair. Combing out the many knots that had tangled themselves in the silver strands.

"I'll speak with him," Aegon promised her, eyes fluttering open. His jaw clicked, "He's always liked me. I'll work with Aemond." His mother pursed her lips. She huddled against the post of the bed.

A hand rose to her face, covering her lips. Shoulders shaking, his mother squeezed her eyes shut. No tears fell. She did not cry. The servants turned their heads away anyway.

"It'll be fine, mother. I'm back now. We'll... we'll be fine," Aegon struggled to find the words to reassure her. He'd never been good at that, at comfort.

"Yes, yes, I know," his mother gasped, straightening up. Her shoulders rolled back. Inhaling sharply, she nodded to herself, then to him, smiling, "You're home. Everything will be better now."

The servants dressed him then. One of them taking a sewing needle to adjust his doublet. It would have to be taken in properly in certain places eventually, but for now, the extra room in his shoulders was to his advantage.

"Perfect," the queen breathed out, flattening down the fabric across his chest. She squeezed lightly at his biceps. "Will you need help to walk? With your leg? A cane or-"

"I'll manage," Aegon shook his head. Straightening to his full height. He took an experimental step towards the door. Hand fisting, he shoved down the pain as he put weight on his right leg.

The stitches would hold. And if not, he was wearing black, the blood wouldn't show.

His mother hooked their arms together. She smiled tightly, leaning close to take some of his weight. "You'll escort me, of course." Aegon inclined his head forward, breathing out slowly as they started walking.

By the time they left her chambers, Aegon could manage a normal looking gait. The queen steady at his side. Ser Criston walked a few steps behind and Aegon ignored the stares as they crossed the Red Keep, heading for his least favorite part of the whole castle.

The king's chambers.

Chapter Text

Aegon was sitting in the center of the table, across from the king. Viserys occasionally glanced his way, but he'd yet to actually *say* anything.

It was unnerving. Especially since he was alone on this side of the table.

His mother was next to the king. The hand beside her at the end. Rhaenyra and Daemon rounded out the king's side of the table with Joffrey sat between them. The youngest of the Velaryon boys wasn't old enough for court.

But this wasn't court. Wasn't even a feast or some other sort of event where those rules could apply. This was family dinner.

Apparently that meant the boy of five could sit beside his mother and watch Aegon over the top of the table. He was slouched forward, almost hiding. The curly mop of hair made that difficult. Even if it hadn't, Aegon could feel his gaze boring into the side of his face.

"You're really pretty," Joffrey said suddenly and Aegon blinked, goblet half raised to his lips. The table quieted. Rhaenyra glancing at her son as he continued to stare at Aegon, "You look like the queen and she's the most beautiful woman in Westeros. Mother said so."

"Thank you?" Aegon tilted his head, eyes fluttering as he looked at his nephew. Joffrey perked up, sitting properly with his back against the seat. Rhaenyra was blushing beside him, as was his mother further down the table.

Daemon clapped Joffrey on the shoulder, exchanging a smile with the king as he teased the boy, "Well, I must respectfully disagree, I think your mother is the most beautiful woman in Westeros."

"His eyes are like mother's?" Joffrey offered, grinning as he looked back at Aegon. "If you look like both of them, does that make you the prettiest?"

This was a trap. He knew it was a trap. He was literally sitting by himself with the entire rest of the table staring at him. It was becoming a Thing, people looking at him like this. A thing that was clearly a trap.

But Aegon was making a habit of walking into traps so...

"I'm certainly not going to deny a compliment," Aegon leaned back in his chair, lips twitching up into a smirk, "I wouldn't want people to start thinking me humble now, would I?" Joffrey giggled as Aegon winked at him.

"There is no chance of that, brother, not ever," Aemond drawled as he entered the room and Aegon's head snapped to the door. His brother strolled in with Helaena, their cousins and nephews filtering past him.

Aegon blinked as he survey his brother. Aemond had grown in their time apart. Just like Jace. But taller.

"Oh, this is absolutely unacceptable," Aegon slammed his goblet on the table, scowling at his brother, "Who the fuck gave you permission to be taller than me?"

Eye rolling, Aemond took the seat beside him. Helaena settled at the head of the table and Baela slid into the chair between them. Aegon would question that later. He was rather busy.

"You're thirteen! You're meant to be all..." Aegon waved his hand vaguely towards Joffrey, "...cute and adorable still." Joffrey preened, grinning up at his mother brightly. Aegon shoved uselessly at Aemond's arm, "If you keep this up you'll be as big as your beast!"

That got a smile out of Aemond. He hid it in his water goblet, but Aegon caught it. He whined dramatically and the table laughed.

"Now you know my pain, little brother," Rhaenyra toasted him across the table and Aegon glowered at her.

"I wasn't taller than you at thirteen," Aegon groused. He crossed his arms, leaning forward to level a glare at Helaena, "You are not allowed to be taller than me."

His sister smiled softly, meeting his gaze with a hum, "I'll do my best, brother." He snorted, falling back in his seat with a huff. Biting his lip, Aegon winced as his shoulder hit the wooden chair.

"You've grown yourself, Aegon, in your time away," the king finally deemed it appropriate to speak with him, "Lord Corlys told me that you often trained with his knights in the Stepstones."

"I was forced by boredom, and several very persistent knights, to keep up my practice, yes," Aegon nodded, reaching for his goblet of wine again. Beside him, Aemond twitched.

A smirk twisted at his brother's expression, "You mean, you, Aegon Targaryen, willingly picked up a sword and trained with it? Without threat or bribery?"

"I'm already under the care of a maester, don't worry," Aegon patted his brother's arm and Aemond smiled again, head ducking forward as he laughed.

"Does that mean you'll be joining us in the yard again, now that you're back?" Baela asked, eyebrows arching as she leaned forward to catch his gaze. She glanced from him to Aemond and then over his shoulder.

Jace sat on his other side. Luke and Rhaena had taken the seats at the end of the table, leaving only the one directly beside him for his oldest nephew. Aegon turned his head to find Jace quirking a brow at him.

"Are you attempting to shock Ser Criston into an early grave?" Aegon drawled, sipping at his wine. Aemond nudged him and he sighed. Heavily. "Fine, fine, I'll come watch? How's that?"

"Is that what you did with your knights in the Stepstones? Watched?" Daemon cut in and Aegon stiffened as his uncle clicked his tongue. His uncle aimed a half-lidded gaze at him, lips turning up.

Most of the table missed it. Baela was already bullying Aemond into some sort of elaborate showcase of his skills for Aegon's benefit. The king had long since tuned them out, engaging Rhaenyra in a quiet conversation he couldn't hear.

But Jace stiffened beside him. And his grandfather's eyes narrowed on his face.

"It's always best to watch first, uncle, before crossing swords with a man of more experience," Aegon cleared his throat, looking only at Daemon. His fingers tightened on his goblet as he pushed down the desire to dump it over his uncle's head.

The twat was smirking at him. Aegon grinned back, head tilting.

"But I suppose a man of your years doesn't have to worry about that very often anymore." Jace snorted, nearly choking on his laughter. Daemon's smile grew tight.

"Perhaps I could teach you a thing or two," Daemon offered, nearly snarling. He looked pointedly at Aegon's shoulder, "We wouldn't want that cut to slow you down."

Aemond's head snapped around, summoned by the mere mention of his injuries. He followed Daemon's gaze, nose wrinkling, "Ser Criston said you only collapsed because of exhaustion."

Throat bobbing, Aegon scowled at his uncle. Daemon leaned back in his chair. Smug smirk settling on his face. "He collapsed from exhaustion, yes, but I think the arrow and the wildfire will prove a more pressing issue in the long term."

Fuck. Daemon was such a cunt. He said as much too, cursing him in Valyrian. The king chidded him, "There are children present, Aegon."

"Something tells me Joffrey knows how to swear, your grace," Aegon looked pointedly at Daemon, and then his gaze dropped to his little nephew, smirking, "Or do I need to teach you?"

"Like you taught Jace?" Joffrey perked up, nearly launching himself onto the table. Eyebrows went up all around them. Aegon swallowed thickly.

"Yes. Or like how your mother taught me," Aegon answered smoothly and his mother choked on her wine.

Rhaenyra winced, eyes squeezing shut as the queen looked at her sharply, "That was an accident. You weren't suppose to be listening, Egg." Aegon shrugged his shoulders, jaw clenching as that sent a sharp pain down his arm.

Dinner continued in much the same vein. Aegon drank more as the night dragged on. He didn't speak to Jace, but then his nephew didn't talk much. Neither did Aemond.

Aegon was blaming Daemon for that. The man had a way of monopolizing the conversation. Mostly by making thinly veiled references to Aegon's actions in the Stepstones - asking questions, making jokes. Each time Daemon annoyed him, he taught Joffrey a new curse in Valyrian, much to Rhaenyra's mounting frustration.

"I can't have taught you all of these?!" Rhaenyra groaned, head falling forward into her hands as the servants cleared the dessert plates.

Draining his cup again, Aegon suppressed a giggle, "I might have learned that one from Laenor. It was a long time ago and I can't remember."

The air in the room was suddenly much thicker. Aegon lowered his goblet slowly, eyes flicking from Rhaenyra's stiff shoulders to Jace. His nephew was as tense as a bow string. His jaw clicking.

"I wasn't aware you and Ser Laenor had spent so much time together," Otto hummed from across the table. His brow furrowed, lips pursing tightly.

Ah. So he'd managed to annoy both sides of the table then. Excellent.

"Not particularly," Aegon cleared his throat, eyes widening as he searched the table for a lifeline. None appeared. Everyone was, once again, staring at him. Fuck.

"Ser Laenor was Aegon's first teacher," Viserys chuckled, grinning broadly. He inclined his head forward, "He gifted you that wooden sword on your third nameday, as I recall. And then a proper one, a dirk I think, for your fourth."

Joffrey pushed himself up, kneeling in his seat as he stretched across the table, "Really?! Father taught you?!"

Aegon nodded mutely, flushing as Joffrey suddenly asked him dozens of questions. None of which he had answers to. He didn't remember what techniques Laenor had taught him, or what weapons he preferred.

"I still have the swords, I think," Aegon told him, rubbing absently at his neck as Joffrey's eyes brightened. "I'll see if I can find them," Aegon offered and his nephew beamed, smile consuming his whole face.

"You're definitely the prettiest now, uncle!" Joffrey declared, nearly jumping from his seat in his excitement.

Rhaenyra excused them all for bed shortly after that. As Joffrey sped past him, tugging on Jace's arm to demand his attention. Pausing by his seat, Rhaenyra squeezed his arm as she whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?" He furrowed his brow, but she was already walking away. Aegon turned his head to look at Aemond, eyebrow arching. His brother rolled his eye.

"You cannot be that dense," Aemond huffed. Aegon raised his goblet and a servant filled it. His brother groaned, "Nevermind."

When they returned to their mother's apartments, Aemond was half carrying him. His brother dumping him on the bed in the room he'd slept in earlier with a huff.

"You've not been back a full day and you're already drunk," Aemond helped him out of the doublet, tugging it from his body roughly.

Aegon hissed. Shoulder throbbing at the force. Aemond startled back, eye widening as he caught sight of the dressing.

"That's-"

"Am I really home before I am home and drunk?" Aegon cut him off, grinning through the pain. Aemond frowned. With a wave of his hand, he shooed his brother away, "Go, sleep, I want to pass out."

Aemond made no move towards the door. He frowned, arms crossing as Aegon leaned forward. Sitting at the foot of the bed, Aegon could brace himself on the footboard as he looked up at his brother.

"You may be taller than me now, barely," Aegon ignored his brother's snort, wagging a finger at him, "But I'm still older. Tomorrow, we'll go flying, first thing." Aemond gaped at him. "Now, go. Let me be drunk in peace hmm?"

His brother went, casting one more narrowed eye at him before closing the door. Aegon could respect that. Especially considering how quickly after his departure Aegon was slipping through the secret door in his room.

He didn't bother trying to walk all the way to Flea Bottom. Once he was out of Maegor's, Aegon bribed a footman to take him in a covered cart. He slipped out, hood drawn, and limped the last few blocks to Mysaria's.

"I had heard you'd returned, my lord," Mysaria inclined her head forward when she saw him. The shadow of a smile crossed her lips, but Aegon was certain that was just his imagination.

"I don't suppose the credit my uncle paid for is still available?" Aegon asked and he didn't imagine her smirk.

She led him to his usual room. The fireplace already blazing. He sighed, dropping his cloak over a chair as he made his way to the bed. Mysaria's voice filtered in like a whisper. He collapsed into the pillow. Not a single word she said stuck. His body throbbing, his shoulder burning, the only thing Aegon was listening to was the pounding of his heart.

"I just wanna sleep," Aegon slurred, the pillow pressed against his mouth. His eyes fluttered close and he remembered what he told Aemond. What he'd promised his brother. "Till sunrise."

Chapter Text

The first thing he noticed was a vaguely floral scent. Not sweet, vaguely bitter, but not unpleasant. Aegon inhaled sharply and the smell overwhelmed him. Eyes fluttering open, he realized he was lying on his back. And naked.

He was positive he'd gone to sleep in his clothes, and on his stomach. Confusion rushed in, mind spinning. His shoulder twinged as a cold chill ran up his spine.

Gasping, Aegon pushed himself up. The blanket on his chest fell, pooling at his waist. His shoulder throbbed and Aegon shifted his weight, leaning more on his right hand. The side of his body actively freezing unfortunately.

The blankets had been pulled off his right leg. A pillow shoved beneath his thigh. Some sort of paste was spread over the gouging wound.

"You pulled your stitches out," a woman spoke up. Her words thickly accented in a way he did not recognize. She stood beside the table. Various jars were spread across the surface and she was actively grinding something with mortar and pestle.

Aegon blinked. He was still at the brothel. The large fireplace with all the house sigils cast long shadows as the fire roared within its depths. There was no other light, save a single candle on the table.

"Given the tearing around the edges, I'm assuming this isn't the first time you've ripped them out," the woman raised her head. Her features mostly obscured by the shadows. She was older though, with crows feet and wrinkles on her forehead.

"Given that you're fully dressed and I'm not, I'm assuming you're not a whore."

She chuckled, head shaking, "No. I am a healer." Aegon arched a brow. "Lady Mysaria employees me. She requested I look over your injuries."

"Did you restitch my thigh then?" Aegon glanced down at the wound, the paste drying on his skin.

"Do you believe they would last any longer than the last set?" She approached him then. He rolled his shoulders back and his vision danced with light, dots of it stretching across the room as he gasped.

The healer hummed. A stifled scoff almost. Aegon's shoulders hunched beneath her gaze as she frowned.

"The wet dressing on your shoulder had dried, which is rarely a good thing and always painful to remove," she inclined her head towards his left side, "I applied a poultice and new dressings, which I will change before you leave."

Aegon nodded mutely, biting at his lip. Despite the dull ache at every move, his shoulder wasn't so bad. No burning sensation. No tingling. Not even that odd numbness from whatever had been put on it the first time.

"The poultice has sand in it, which you ought to ask your maester to try, should the burning continue at any point." Her hand rose to his face, the back of her fingers pressing to his forehead. "You remained chilled."

"That's..." Aegon shifted, eyes dropping to his arm, "It's not from the injuries." His wrapping was still in place. The vambrance he'd kept on beneath his shirt. He looked back up at her, "What about my leg? If you're not putting stitches-"

"I will place stitches, but later, once the inflamtion has gone down. If I put them in now, it will hurt more. As is..." the healer turned her head, gaze narrowing on his thigh, "As is, your wound will scar. Badly. And it will not heal properly at all if you continue to walk on it."

With a sigh, Aegon nodded, "It won't heal properly then." Her eyes snapped to his face. He shrugged, wincing, "I have to walk on it. But I'll... I'll try not to rip the stitches out again?"

Her expression pinched. Unimpressed. Aegon hunched further beneath her frown. A hand pressed lightly at his chest, pushing him to lie back.

"Rest, boy, you need it."

The healer was not there when he woke up the next time. Nor was Mysaria. But his wounds had been bound, tightly, and a maid stood beside the bed with a plain black doublet.

A covered cart was waiting in the alley when Aegon stepped from the brothel. He directed the driver to the Dragon Pit, pushing his hood back once he was settled on the bench inside.

Foot propped up, his thigh only twinged when the wheels found stones. When the cart bounced. He inhaled sharply, breathing through it each time.

No one could see him. It didn't matter if he clutched at the walls of the cart to keep from screaming. Didn't matter if he took a few moments, vision coming back into focus, before stepping from the cart when they arrived.

"Your grace," a dragonkeeper was quick to greet him, bowing low. Aegon inclined his head, smile tight.

"Is the head of your order awake?" Aegon asked as he surveyed the quiet Dragon Pit. The sun was just peaking out over the horizon, faint light reflecting off the grey clouds above them.

The chill in the air had him on edge. A shiver clawing at his spine in the empty open theater of the pit. Aegon didn't have to wait long before Sunfyre was stalking out from the lairs, snapping at the keeper following him.

"He's been given quite a lot of freedom these last two years," Aegon called out to them, switching into Valyrian. The keeper startled back at his voice and Sunfyre surged forward. The keeper fell back.

Sunfyre circled him, nostrils flaring. The dragon grumbled, settling with a huff around him, half-coiled in a semi-circle. Aegon leaned against him, bracing himself up as the ground trembled beneath him.

For his entire discussion with the head dragonkeeper, Sunfyre remained, still and quiet. Watching. The man was older than the king and hunched over a cane.

"As I told the king, Dragonstone may be a better environment for-"

"What if I trained him? Aemond?" Aegon cut in, lips pursing tight. His Valyrian was sharper now and the keeper stilled. Aegon swallowed, "Vhagar won't need a different environment if Aemond can learn to calm her properly right? Can keep her under control?"

The old man's brows furrowed, "It is not Vhagar that needs a different environment, my prince." He inclined his head towards Sunfyre. His dragon was tensed, gaze hard. "A rider's connection to their dragon only grows stronger with time. Only once Prince Aemond has calmed, will Vhagar."

Chest twisting, Aegon nodded sharply. He exhaled slowly. Behind him, Sunfyre's chest rumbled. With a huff, Aegon pushed a hand through his hair, "But I'm back now. I can... I can help him." The keeper arched a brow. Aegon stepped forward, insistent, "I can."

"Court is simply not an hospitable environment for everyone, my prince," the keeper bowed his head, "But I will not push the issue." Aegon smiled. "So long as Vhagar does not pose a threat to the city."

His smile dropped. The keeper pursed his lips and Aegon nodded slowly, his gut twisting.

Settling in Sunfyre's saddle a short while later, Aegon was tempted to fly off, to leave. He could do it. Drag Aemond and Helaena with him. Steal Daeron back from Oldtown. Daemon's family had lived in Essos for years, performing with their dragons in exchange for places to stay.

It wouldn't matter that they were a threat to Rhaenyra's claim. Her throne was here, in Westeros. Aegon had gone two years with a numb soulmark, he could manage longer. His whole life even, if it meant his brothers were safe.

Vhagar would have plenty of room. Maybe she'd even be excited to return, to fly with Aemond over the Narrow Sea as she had with Laena. His brothers would be safe. Helaena.

But his mother would never leave the king.

It was her duty to care for him, she'd said as much his whole life. Her whole life probably. She was his wife in the eyes of the Seven and that meant something to his mother.

Even if it didn't seem to matter much to the king.

"Slow," Aegon braced himself in the saddle and Sunfyre spread his wings. He cried out as they rose in the air. Sunfyre's screech covered it.

Leaning forward, Aegon pressed a hand to Sunfyre's scales as they drifted over the city. His leg throbbed, but not any more than it had in the cart. Less even, once they settled high in the sky.

They circled Vhagar twice, earning the bronze dragon's attention as Aegon waited for his brother to join him. Laughing, Aegon darted in and out of Vhagar's range. The large dragon growling as Sunfyre shrieked, laughing.

Vhagar was bigger. Stronger maybe. But Sunfyre was quick. The fastest dragon alive, Meleys be damned.

A useful skill, once Aemond arrived and Vhagar rose to follow them over the Blackwater. Aegon could hear his brother cursing at him as Sunfyre looped around Vhagar repeatedly.

"You're fucking insane!" Aemond shouted as Sunfyre pulled up at the last moment, heading straight at Vhagar just before her flames burst forth. Aegon cackled as Sunfyre spun in the air, hanging upside down, keeping pace with Vhagar as they flew directly over Aemond.

"And you're not having nearly enough fun!" Aegon called back, snickering as Vhagar lurched up a moment too late to bump Sunfyre with her head.

Aegon refused to slow down, to stop. Sunfyre cut through the air with precision, weaving an ambling and looping path over the Blackwater that Vhagar barreled through in a near straight line. Her whole body rippling with power as she roared.

On her back, Aemond sat, wide eyes narrowing into a glare. Slowly, like a chisel carving marble, his brother's shoulders began to loosen. Vhagar's movements grew less sharp, more fluid.

"There ya go!" Aegon whooped as Sunfyre dived down, skimming over the water. His tail slapped against the surface and Vhagar shrieked as water splashed up against her scales.

The sun hung in the sky properly as Aegon curved back towards the city. His chest was heaving, his shoulder burning, but Aemond was smiling. Laughing even, as Vhagar settled back into the kingswood.

"If the maester asks why I'm late for lessons, I'm blaming you!" Aemond yelled up at him. Sunfyre gave a screech as Aegon tossed his head back.

Tail dragging across her back, Sunfyre gave Vhagar a final squawk before they darted away from the clearing. The bronze beast's roar shook the air itself. Aegon closed his eyes, sinking into Sunfyre. His dragon's joy was brighter than his, thicker. It consumed him.

"A little longer, hmm?" Aegon breathed, bowing his head over golden scales. He took gulping breaths, body shaking as they circled the city.

He didn't have to burn anything. Didn't have to watch his surroundings. Not here.

Sunfyre was content. Wings flapping, body gliding. Their joy faded and his dragon settled into a looping pattern, banking left every time they turned. Aegon's right leg never dangling from the saddle, never anything but secure in the guard that remained on Sunfyre's side.

They'd switch the saddle. If he asked. Put his ridding saddle back on, with the higher pommel, the safety straps. No protective guards.

His chest ached, his breaths coming quicker as they simply flew. As Aegon circled the Red Keep for the first time in years.

It wasn't a battlefield. Not like the Stepstones. The air was thicker here. The sharp tang of salt from the sea breeze cut through the fog of smoke from all the chimneys, through the stink of shit.

"Hold," Aegon gasped and Sunfyre paused, hovering over the castle. Little dots crisscrossed the courtyards. The dragon yard was empty.

Only the king's mount was meant to be kept at the keep. Balerion wouldn't have fit, even if he still lived. He'd be in the kingswood, same as Vhagar.

Tears blurred his vision as Aegon stared down at his home. At red stones and brown dirt. At people rushing from building to building. His chest ached. The wind whipped around him.

He missed his tent. The hill where Sunfyre would sprawl out in the light. Missed knowing exactly what he had to do. What he needed to do.

A shriek startled him. Sunfyre rumbled beneath him. Heat rising in his chest as Aegon turned his head to see Caraxes swooping through the air.

"You shouldn't be up here alone, nephew," Daemon shouted as the Blood Wyrm approached him, circling once, twice.

Sunfyre snapped at the larger dragon, screeching as Aegon scrubbed his hands down his face. He shuddered and Sunfyre went quiet, the fire in his throat slipping from his lips as dark smoke.

Rubbing at his chest, Aegon's voice cracked as he commanded Sunfyre back to the pit. Caraxes followed. A large shadow looming at his back. Daemon's gaze heavy as it lingered on him.

"My prince?" The keepers hung back as Aegon stumbled from his saddle, crashing onto the ground. He huffed, catching himself on his hands.

His vision flashed white. Sunfyre roared. It was fire on his lips this time, not smoke. And Aegon was shaking. Sensation needling across his skin as his whole body went numb.

Hands grabbed his face and Aegon's breath hitched as he found himself looking at Daemon. His uncle's face blurring, swimming as pain spiked through his body. A pressure in his chest squeezing at his heart.

The air was warm, boiling even. Aegon clawed at his doublet, at the closures, and then at Daemon's wrists as his uncle's grip grew tight, fingers digging into his face. The world was spinning. Everything hazy and hot and wrong. Colors bleeding into each other as it all moved too fast. Like he was still hanging upside as Sunfyre flew over Vhagar.

"Nephew!" Daemon snapped in Valyrian and Aegon inhaled sharply. A sob wracked through his body. Slumping forward, he collapsed into Daemon's chest, gasping and crying as everything seemed to sharpen around him.

The walls of the pit suddenly closing in around him, Aegon cried out, head whipping around. Every noise was louder. Echoing in his head. Voices shouting. Dragons screeching.

Sunfyre. He needed Sunfyre. Aegon lunged away, but Daemon held firm, wrestling with him, wrapping his arms around Aegon as he fought to return to his dragon.

A few yards away, Caraxes had coiled himself around Sunfyre, lying over him as Sunfyre struggled. His dragon was writhing. Flames still shooting from his mouth at every breath.

Aegon stared, eyes wide. He reached, his arm too heavy. Sluggish. "Sun-"

Daemon's hand grabbed his chin, tugging his head away. His words hard, "No. Focus here."

He did. Or he tried. Daemon was talking to him. Rapid fire Valyrian. Most of it little more than noise to Aegon as he choked through his next breath. As he slumped in his uncle's hold.

"Look at me, Aegon," Daemon demanded, forcing eye contact. Aegon stammered, eyes squeezing shut. His uncle shook him. Palms hot, Daemon shifted his hands, one grabbing at the base of his neck. "Look. At. Me."

Staring into violet depths, Aegon whimpered. His words stuttered, "What's- What's happening?" Daemon smiled at him, lips pulled tight, his jaw clenched. The purple was too bright, bleeding into everything else as Aegon focused on it.

"First flight back can be quite the trip," Daemon chuckled darkly as he held Aegon's gaze. He kept talking. On and on. About triggering events and emotional recovery times and Aegon could not give less of a shit about any of it, but if he focused on Daemon's voice, his head stopped spinning.

Sunfyre calmed as he did, whining beneath Caraxes while Aegon practiced breathing again, sitting in Daemon's lap. He squeezed his eyes shut. Daemon clicked his tongue, but Aegon ducked his head anyway.

A hand rubbed down his spine and Daemon sighed, "I'd thought you'd wait a few days, given your injuries, or I would've warned you." Aegon's throat bobbed. "Flying by yourself may be... challenging, for a while."

"Did anyone see?" Aegon whispered, hands curling in his lap. Daemon stiffened. "At the Keep. When I... Did... did Aemond see me?"

"Aemond should be well ensconced in his lessons. I passed him in the Keep, before I came." Daemon spoke softly, combing a hand through Aegon's hair.

He let out a shaky breath, a gasping laugh as he nodded. "Good. Good, he'd..." Aegon swallowed, biting at his lip. He'd think it was his fault. His brother would blame himself.

"Come on," Daemon wrapped an around Aegon's waist, hefting him up onto his feet. Aegon had no choice but to lean on him. His uncle shouted towards Caraxes and the dragon shifted up, freeing Sunfyre.

Aegon's chest felt lighter, just looking at his dragon. Swaying on his feet as Sunfyre scrambled towards him, claws digging into the dirt and wings fluttering. His maw lowered to nudge at him and Aegon simply wrapped his arms around his dragon, leaning forward, letting Sunfyre take his whole weight.

"Aegon-" Daemon snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring as Sunfyre growled at him. Aegon let out a soft laugh, gasping as it shook his body.

"Do you have a single self-preservation instinct in that head of yours?" Daemon groused as Sunfyre lifted him up, mewling softly as Aegon lay across his head. His feet didn't touch the ground.

Cheeks pressed to rough scales, Aegon nuzzled against his dragon, "I have Sunfyre."

A sharp shriek from Caraxes sounded vaguely like laughter. Daemon scowled, stalking towards his own dragon, "Don't you start, you beast!" Caraxes rumbled, wings flicking out as he shrieked again.

Definitely a laugh.

"Sorry," Aegon whispered to his beast, letting Sunfyre's concern wrap around him like a blanket. Eyes squeezing shut.

Sunfyre huffed, head bobbing. Aegon kept breathing. He focused on that. On breathing. His body throbbed, the needling sensation melting away and leaving all the pain Aegon didn't want to deal with.

His thigh was the sharpest pain, like the fucking arrow was drilling into his flesh again and again. The cut on his shoulder burned and when he shifted, he felt the pull of the dressing on his skin. It had dried again. The healer at Mysaria's had said that was bad.

Worst was the constant ache. His chest. His back. Everything. Pain blossoming from every inch of him. Tiny, pebbling spikes that he couldn't quite block out. As if he'd been stripped bare again. Raw. Exposed before judging eyes that could see to his very bones

"Down," Aegon hummed and Sunfyre lowered his head. He kept his hands on Sunfyre as he shifted off the dragon. Daemon appeared beside him, catching him as he swayed on his feet.

"You ought to see the maester again," Daemon told him, leading him towards a covered cart waiting at the entrance. A Targaryen dragon was carved into the door. Guards in red and black encircled the carriage as it drove them back to the keep.

Leg propped up once again, Aegon hoped desperately that he hadn't pulled his stitches again. He imagined the healer woman would be frowning at him now, head creased. His hand pressed at his thigh.

"I don't think it's bleeding at least," Aegon mumbled, he looked up at Daemon, vaguely hopeful, "That means the stitches held, right?" His uncle blinked at him. Frowning.

Chapter Text

His visit to the maester had not been the worst in Aegon's life. Mellos had even, begrudgingly, admitted that his shoulder looked better. Not that this had translated to the old cunt actually putting sand in the new poultice as Aegon requested.

"I require wine," Aegon told the servant who brought him the food Daemon had insisted he eat. They nodded sharply and he leaned back.

There were several spots from which to watch the training yard that Cole used for lessons. Aegon had chosen one at ground level. A low wall separated the courtyard from an open passageway on one side. Perched on the wall with his back against one of the decorative stone arches, Aegon was almost comfortable.

More importantly, he could lounge back, his right leg stretched out before him, and appear no more bothered by his injuries than he was the sunlight peaking through the clouds.

"Your grace," the servant returned, placing a pitcher of wine beside him, along with a goblet. They bowed their head before departing. Leaving Aegon to his makeshift breakfast of fruits and bread. That it was past midday meant little to him, though Daemon had grumbled considerably when Aegon had made a joke about it.

Everything was a bit... sluggish, after his... moment, in the Dragon Pit. As if time had slowed, as if he were a mere observer.

His hand shook as he raised the goblet to his lips. He cringed as the wine hit his tongue. Aegon swallowed the sweet wine, draining his cup.

"Arbor Gold," Aegon clicked his tongue and refilled his goblet. He popped a grape into his mouth before sipping at his drink. It didn't improve the taste, but Daemon had threatened to bar him from the Dragon Pit if he didn't eat something.

Did he think Daemon could actually do that? Possibly. Would it work? Certainly not. Aegon knew too many ways into the pit. Not to mention, Sunfyre would likely come searching for him at the keep if he stayed away too long.

But Aegon had enough to worry about without arguing with his uncle. And the hand would be insufferable if Sunfyre started shrieking by his window again.

"Comfortable, my prince?" Cole cleared his throat as he approached him, head bobbing in a pisspoor attempt at a bow. He was frowning.

Aegon groaned, nose wrinkling, "What have I done now?" The kingsguard's lips twitched as Aegon threw his head back in a pout, "Can I blame Aemond, whatever it is?"

"No, your grace," Cole shook his head, laughter dragging at his mouth even as he crossed his arms, "You woke quite early this morning." Aegon hummed. "Early enough to avoid being seen by every guard, somehow."

"Ah, yes, well, you know how private I am, Ser Criston," Aegon smiled at him. Cole's nostrils flared, blinking slowly. With a huff, Aegon's shoulders sagged, "I was fine. I even had a healer change my dressings while I was out."

That hadn't, strictly speaking, been on purpose, but it sounded better than the alternative. He fully intended to have Mysaria's healer check his wounds again tonight, when he went back. Surely that counted in his favor.

"You're injured, you left the castle with no guards, and you told no one where you were going," Cole said sharply, each point emphasized more than the last. Aegon sipped at his wine, avoiding eye contact.

"I went to the Dragon Pit."

Cole snorted, "Eventually, yes, I'm sure." A shout from across the yard had the kingsguard turning.

Baela had arrived. She waved exictedly up at the ramparts where Helaena and Rhaena had chosen to settle. Her steps were light, bouncing.

"Just..." Cole sighed, looking back at him with a furrowed brow, "Don't go unarmed again, my prince. I saw your sword remained in your room. If you must go out without escort, do not do so without protection."

Aegon swallowed. He nodded, "Alright. I'll take it with me, if I leave the castle." Cole's lips pursed tight. His gaze rose to the ramparts as Baela shouted up to her sister.

"Perhaps even if you don't, your grace," Cole whispered, inclining his head forward as he stepped back. Rhaenyra had joined Rhaena and Helaena. Daemon as well.

A dark mop of hair peaked out from an embrasure, Joffrey leaning through one of the gaps. His face lit up as he shouted, "Uncle Aegon!"

He hadn't so much as raised a hand to wave before Joffrey disappeared. His nephew was soon flying out of the castle, making a beeline for him. Aegon blinked, eyes fluttering as he set his goblet down.

The air around him shifted as Joffrey stopped right in front of him. A buzzing joy, like Sunfyre's, rising around them as Joffrey looking up at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile, "Hello, uncle!"

"Uhm, hi?" Aegon mumbled, face flushing. His nephew's gaze was focused, heavy even. Unflinching as the boy stood there, nearly vibrating. Fingers twitching at his side.

"Can I sit with you today?" Joffrey bit his lip, forehead creasing. Hands fisted at his side, Joffrey rolled his shoulders back, stilling only as he declared, "I want to watch with you, while they train."

Joffrey stepping right up to the wall then, hands gripping at the ledge as he tilted his head. Lips puckered. Lashes fluttered.

"Please?"

Aegon choked on his laugh, head ducking low. It was an effective technique, Aegon would give him that.

Head rising, Aegon glanced around. Baela was grinning at him. In the ramparts, Rhaenyra was pressing a hand to her lips, stiffling a laugh poorly as Daemon grumbled beside her.

"Is he allowed to sit with me?" Aegon called up to her, eyebrow arching. His sister startled. Her forehead creased as she nodded. Aegon dropped his chin, narrowing his eyes on his nephew.

He made a show of puckering his own lips, humming thoughtfully. Joffrey whined, eyebrows rising beneath the messy curls falling into his face. He pleaded. Exaggerating his expression just as Aegon did.

"Alright then," Aegon gave a clipped nod, finally, and Joffrey cheered, hands rising high in victory. Laughter rang out around them. The boy immediately started climbing up onto the edge, hand reaching for Aegon to steady himself.

Just as quickly, his name cut across the yard, "Joffrey!" Aegon looked up from Joffrey's lulling head to find Jace standing in an archway across the yard. Frowning, deeply.

"I know, I know!" Joffrey cut off further reprimand with a huff, glaring at his brother as he knelt on the edge of the stone wall. His voice took on a monotonous drone as he listed out where Aegon's injuries were. "Right thigh. Left shoulder. Don't push at his chest." He shrieked the last bit, nearly sneering, "I'll be careful!"

Jace's jaw clicked, but Joffrey was already crawling over Aegon. Admittedly, with significant focus on where he was placing his hands. He settled between Aegon's legs, leaning slightly back against his left as he curled against Aegon's abdomen.

A stand off occured as the brothers stared at one another. Jace narrowed his eyes. Joffrey raised his chin. Above them all, Rhaenyra was pinching the bridge of her nose.

Aegon reached for an apple on his plate of food. He took a bite. Audibly. The crunch echoing through the quiet tension. Jace's gaze flicked to him.

"What?" Aegon asked as he chewed. Joffrey giggled, face turning into Aegon's chest. The air around him grew lighter. The tension in his shoulders releasing. Perhaps from the warmth of his little nephew, or the amusement rising from their audience.

Or maybe it was the way Jace was looking at him. Surveying, really. Assessing. He'd seen Aegon's injuries. The only one present, save Daemon, who knew the extent of them. He cared. Openly. Obviously.

"Don't be a nuisance!" Jace sighed, eyes rolling as he pointed at Joffrey, "You go back up to mother if Egg asks, no protest." Joffrey nodded sharply and Jace turned to the weapons rack, brushing off a joke from Baela.

"Jace is just jealous," Joffrey whispered, smiling up at Aegon, "Cause I get to cuddle with you and he has to do his lesson." His fingers curled into Aegon's doublet, utterly oblivious to the way Aegon's heart raced at his words.

He had no response. None whatsoever. That his cheeks were burning was completely unrelated. He took another bite of his apple and focused on the ring.

Cole ran the four of them through a quick set of drills to warm up before he paired them off. Luke with Baela and Jace with Aemond.

They'd all improved. His brother especially. Aegon had never considered himself particularly good with a sword, but he knew the basics. Knew enough to recognize that Aemond's swings were more fluid, sure. Aggressive too, even for offense.

Luke was probably the most significant change though, given he wasn't actively losing his sword to Baela's heavy hits. For now anyway.

"Mother says I can start training with a sword soon," Joffrey told him, eyes transfixed as he watched his brothers. "Daemon said he'd teach me, if I want."

"Daemon is an excellent swordsman," Aegon hummed. His own gaze lingered on Jace, on his arms. His back. Every muscle that so much as twitched as he met Aemond's strikes. Pushed them back.

His brother was a force, a true terror ripping through the air. But Jace held him off well enough, chest heaving and jaw clenched. Aegon's vision blurred at the edges, the world narrowing.

Steel sung. Metal crashing against metal. Scraping. A trickle of sensation ran down his spine. Like a single raindrop on his skin. His breath hitched. Jace groaned. Aemond huffed. Both sounds ringing through his head.

"You said it's best to watch first, cause they're all better than me," Joffrey furrowed his brow, nudging Aegon softly. He looked up at him, bottom lip sticking out, "What do I watch for?"

With a chuckle, Aegon pointed out the stances that Jace and Luke adopted, the grips they used to hold their swords. The style of blocks.

"They're both on the defensive right now," Aegon explained, gesturing towards Cole as the kingsguard circled the yard, "He'll have them switch in a moment. And then Baela and Aemond will defend from them."

Aegon reached for his wine, ignoring the pounding in his ear as his heart refused to calm. As the singing swords went round and round in his head, a metal chorus that had him draining his cup.

His nephew shifted against him, dragging his attention back towards the ring.

"What's Baela's stance then? She looks like she's just jumping around." Joffrey bit at his lip, pointing towards her. Aegon popped an orange slice from his plate into his mouth and agreed.

Baela didn't fight like a knight. She was lighter, faster, and she leaned into that. "I think it's a variation on an Essosi style. She's making it difficult for Luke to predict her moves."

Likely, that was the point. Baela would never be expected to fight in a war, not like them. Like him. Any opponents she faced outside of this ring would be attackers of a different sort. Men who did not fight fairly. Men who would not want to lose to a woman.

Joffrey nodded sharply and then he squinted at Aemond, "He's spinning a lot." Aegon snorted. He raised his goblet back to his lips as Joffrey mused. "He doesn't do that all the time though. I watched last week too, with grandfather."

"Yes. It's so he can keep Jace in his field of vision," Aegon's throat bobbed. He pushed thoughts of the king away. Ignored the churning in his gut. His eyes fluttered as he watched his brother. Focused on him.

Aemond wasn't just spinning. His slashes had an extra flourish to them. An extra bit of force that had Jace grunting as he blocked the hits.

Grinning to himself, Aegon caught Joffrey's eye. He ducked his head, laughing softly as he whispered, "I think he's showing off today, since he has an audience." Aegon winked at him, lifting his head back up.

"Cause you're here?" Joffrey smirked, perking up. "Jace does that, when Daemon comes. Luke says so." His nephew giggled, hands rising to his cheeks to hide his laughter.

"Bit different, but yes," Aegon agreed, snickering as he tugged his nephew closer. Stealing a bit of his warmth as a shudder ran up his back. He blew out a breath, tucking his chin over Joffrey's head. "Aemond and me, were brothers, like you and Jace. Daemon is... different."

Joffrey hummed, puckering his lips, "Am I Aemond then?" Aegon stiffened. A sudden rush of tears hit him. He took a shaking breath.

"No." Aegon croaked, blinking rapidly. He tilted his head down, hiding his face in Joffrey's curls. His nephew froze.

Fuck. This was dumb. Stupid. There was no reason for this. No reason to...

"You'd be Daeron," Aegon mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. He took another breath. Leaning back, Aegon reached for his wine again, filling and emptying his cup in quick succession.

Cole shouted for them to switch as Aegon refilled his goblet a second time. Joffrey was staring at him, eyes wide. Aegon pursed his lips.

He didn't explain. Didn't say anything more. Joffrey probably had no idea who Daeron was. No idea why Aegon was-

"Do you miss him?" Joffrey asked, sinking into Aegon. He wrapped his arms around Aegon's waist. Head pillowing on his chest. His words were quiet, "Mother said he went to Oldtown before I was born."

"Yeah," Aegon cleared his throat. He returned the hug slowly. Awkwardly. Sniffling, Aegon chuckled, "He probably doesn't even remember me that well."

Luke groaned and Aegon rubbed at his eyes. He swallowed thickly as he surveyed the ring again.

Baela was smirking as she stood over Luke. His middle nephew was lying on ground, arms wrapped over his head.

"At breakfast, Luke said attacking was easier than defending," Joffrey shifted, leaning forward slightly. His smile almost identical to Baela's as she taunted her opponent.

Cole cut her off, words sharp as he prodded Luke back onto his feet with a nudge of his own foot. Baela huffed, shoulders hunching. When they started again, Baela pulled a faint that had Luke crashing to the ground. Again.

Aegon nearly doubled over laughing, crushing Joffrey to his side. His nephew squealed, giggling as they nearly fell from the wall. Aegon caught himself on the arch, pulling them back with barely a wince.

"Focus!" Cole shouted, swatting at Jace when his head whipped around towards them. Most of the yard was watching them though, to be fair. Eyebrows arching. Smiles rising.

Joffrey waved from his new position, solidly against Aegon's chest, fully enveloped in his arms. A smirk twisted at Joffrey's lips as Jace scowled at him. His younger nephew wrapped his arms loosely around his neck, preening as he whispered, "Jace is really funny when he's angry."

Not a sentiment Aegon thought Aemond would agree with, given he was the current outlet for that anger. But Aemond's defense was nearly as aggressive as his offense. The two were panting within minutes, nearly growling at one another.

"Reminds me of Vermax," Aegon hummed, gaze flickering over Jace as his sword crashed against Aemond's. The sound echoed in his head. A faint screech, a dragon, joined the chorus in his head, a roar. Aegon reached for his wine again.

"Mother says there's always a resemblence between a rider and their dragon," Joffrey said, shifting to face outward. He perched on Aegon's left leg, head tilting as he looked up at him, "I saw Sunfyre flying this morning. His scales are really pretty "

Aegon grinned and abandoned his once again empty goblet, "Oh, he's the most gorgeous dragon to ever exist! You'll see, I'll introduce you properly sometime." Joffrey gaped at him, eyes like saucers as he shrieked.

"Really?! That'd be awesome! You can meet Tyraxes!" Joffrey was rambling a mile a minute, entirely ignoring the lesson still going on in front of them. His hands gestured wide as he described his dragon. "He's not big enough to fly with me yet, but he's the toughest dragon! Even Jace says so!"

In the yard, Jace twitched at the mention of his name. Aemond was frowning over Jace's shoulders as Joffrey continued. He was working backwards, from Tyraxes' current preference for horse meat to how he'd been allowed to stay with Joffrey in the nursery when he was smaller.

"Jace said they picked his egg from one of Seasmoke's clutches," Joffrey finished, cheeks pink after talking so fast. His next breath was deep and as he exhaled, he puckered his bottom lip, sending the air upwards to ruffle the hair on his forehead.

"Well, I won't hold his origins against him. Sunfyre came from one of Syrax's eggs, so I have a clear bias," Aegon chuckled, reaching a hand up to comb Joffrey's hair back. His nephew smiled at the gesture. "He sounds like a fine dragon though. I'm sure he's nearly as cute as his rider."

His nephew preened properly again, shoulders shaking as he giggled, "Yeah! We're lots alike! That's how it works!" Joffrey hid his smile in Aegon's chest, taking another deep breath.

Aegon did the same. He hadn't been talking fast, like his nephew. Wasn't vibrating with excitement. But catching his breath was still a struggle. He inhaled slowly, head tilting back, "Tyraxes will be as fierce as Seasmoke then, one day."

Joffrey stilled. He shifted, head falling back and chin pressing in to Aegon's sternum. Aegon looked down, frowning as he caught sight of the tears collecting in Joffrey's lashes.

"Was my father fierce then?" Joffrey whispered, biting at his lips.

In his head, Aegon was cursing. Valyrian. The common tongue. Every word he knew. His chest swelling with panic as the little boy started to cry, hiccuping.

"Arrax looks more like father's dragon," Joffrey wiped at his face, sniffling, "And I don't... I mean, I look like Luke, but..."

"Vermax came from one Syrax's eggs too, you know, the same clutch as Sunfyre," Aegon told him, rubbing absently at his back, "Not all dragonspawn look like the dragon they come from."

"Yeah?" Joffrey's voice cracked and he pressed closer to Aegon, cheek resting against his doublet.

Aegon nodded, clearing his throat to cover a hiss as Joffrey's hand fisted against one of his more sensitive bruises. "It's different for everyone. You said last night I look like my mother, right? Aemond doesn't."

"Yeah, Aemond looks more like Daemon than grandfather," Joffrey mumbled quietly. Aegon stifled a bark of laughter.

Snickering, he ducked low to Joffrey's ear, "Can you say that in front of them? Maybe our mothers too? I promise it'll be funny." His nephew giggled softly, still sniffling.

"Luke says we can't tease Aemond," Joffrey pouted and Aegon snorted.

"*He* can't tease Aemond, I can do whatever the fuck I want, so..." Aegon winked when Joffrey looked up at him again, "...just blame me, okay?" His nephew nodded sharply, rubbing at his eyes to dispell the last of his tears.

Before he could think better of it, Aegon pressed a kiss to his forehead. A quick peck. Like his mother did for him. Joffrey blushed, a smile tugging at his red cheeks. "Can I tell Jace you kissed me?"

Aegon choked, nearly falling off the wall again. He didn't catch himself quite as well this time. His goblet and the empty pitcher went crashing to the ground, the clatter echoing, drawing eyes as he spluttered. Joffrey shrieked with laughter.

With a huff, Cole threw up his hands, nearly growling, "You know what, we're done for the day!"

Chapter Text

It was an easy task, getting his brother to help him back to their mother's rooms. Aemond was easily guilted and Aegon's dramatics assured him that no one would take it too seriously. His teasing of his brother was a well-documented occurrence within the Red Keep.

Aegon was not nearly as drunk as he pretended, but he still let Cole force a roll into his mouth before they made the trek. His sister and her brood were well distracted by Joffrey's bragging that he was going to meet Sunfyre, the most beautiful dragon in the world. Such a statement had garnered significant rebuttals and Aegon had escaped unaccosted.

Ha! Daemon and his demands that he eat could officially shove it. The roll did help settle the churning in his gut though, to be fair. But Aegon didn't have to admit that.

"What are you doing?" Aemond huffed as he trailed Aegon through their mother's hall. He used the wall to keep himself steady and the weight off his right leg. His brother stopped short when Aegon opened the door to Daeron's room.

Under the window, half covered by a thick curtain, a toybox sat. The top was clear. No dust. His mother still had the maids cleaning it every week then.

"What are you doing?!" Aemond repeated himself, his whisper more like a breathy shriek as Aegon opened the toybox. His brother glanced around. Eye wide, Aemond chewed on his bottom lip, "Mother doesn't like us to move things in here."

"Daeron is ten now," Aegon reminded him, brows knitting together as he dug through the box. It was dusty. The toys likely still exactly where Daeron had left them six years ago.

Which meant the two he was looking for were at the bottom. Of course.

"They're mine anyway," Aegon sighed as his hand wrapped around the wooden pommel of a sword. He pulled it from the depths of the box. The blunted dirk next. He glanced at his brother over his shoulder, "Daeron probably has his own sword now. A proper one."

"Still..." Aemond narrowed his eye. His head tilted, lips pursing. Aegon rose to his feet. He closed the toybox.

His brother remained stiff in the doorway as Aegon retreated, swords in hand. Nothing had left this room since Daeron had. Even the linens were washed and immediately returned.

Aemond's eye lowered to the swords, "You're giving those to Joffrey?"

"Yeah," Aegon nodded. He squeezed at his brother's shoulder. Aemond pursed his lips.

Without a word, Aegon flicked at his eyepatch. Aemond startled. His eye fluttered. Aegon arched a brow.

They could both, together, count on one hand the number of gifts the king had given them. Aegon had gotten a private room. And a trip to the Stepstones. But Aemond had gotten the world's worst apology in the form of a sapphire, cut and shaped to fit in the space his eye had once sat.

Aemond stepped back and Aegon walked out, taking the swords from their baby brother's room. His shoulders tensed as he turned back towards the receiving room. He called for a servant to bring him a rag.

"Are you going to deliver them yourself?" Aemond asked as he reappeared at his side with a long swatch of blue fabric. It wasn't Velaryon blue, but it was close enough.

Once the dust was clear, Aegon wrapped the two swords in the fabric. It would make them easier to carry, once he tied them together. He looked at his brother, smirking, "Yeah."

His brother frowned, "We're not meant to visit Rhaenyra's chambers without explicit invitation, brother."

"You're welcome to come with me, if you're so worried," Aegon hummed, quirking a brow. Aemond's nose wrinkled. With a chuckle, Aegon elbowed him, "Go get my sword from my room, I agreed to carry it with me from now on anyway."

That was enough of a compromise that his brother returned to his lessons rather than following Aegon across the castle. Aegon appreciated that. Not just because he didn't want any witnesses to the way he had to rest against a wall halfway there.

Blowing out a breath, Aegon held his right leg off the floor, putting as much weight as he could on his left. Having injuries on opposite sides of his body was unpleasant and Aegon would be making an effort to avoid it in the future.

Shoulder burning, Aegon blinked back tears. It was a nice distraction at least. The tightness in his chest was almost negligible, in comparison.

Apprehension, and his stupid stitches, aside, Aegon arrived at Rhaenyra's door with shoulders back and a bored expression on his face. He grinned at the guards there, eyebrow quirking up, "Would one of you be a dear and ask the princess if Joffrey can play?"

"Yes, uh, your grace." Their eyes fluttered. A look was exchanged and one of them slipped inside. Aegon rocked backwards on his heels, suppresing a hiss as pain shot through his thigh.

When the guard returned, the door was held open for him and Aegon walked through. The tight feeling in his chest flared, like a knot being pulled taut.

It had been well over a decade since he'd stepped inside these chambers. Ghosts of his own childish laughter haunted his steps. The table and the couches all singing with memories.

"Egg!" Rhaenyra chirped, smiling brightly from one of those couches. She didn't stand to greet him and his gaze zeroed in on her protruding stomach.

"Are you ever not pregnant?" Aegon blurted out before his mind could catch up with him.

Rhaenyra laughed, a bark that hit him vaguely like a slap as she rubbed at her pregnant belly, "Yes. I am, I promise." Aegon flushed, ducking his head as he winced. "Would you like to sit?"

Yes. Yes, he would absolutely love to sit.

"No," Aegon shook his head, clearing his throat. He held up the bundle in his hand. Rhaenyra blinked. "I just have something for Joffrey."

"Oh," Rhaenyra shuffled in her seat. She waved a servant over, sending them off to fetch his nephew. He wasn't at lessons. Joffrey only did a few hours with a maester in the morning, or so Rhaenyra said, as she filled the silence.

His sister looked very different than she did in his memories. Her smiles were more strained. Wrinkles had appeared on her face. A bit like his own mother, though she had smile lines rather than crows feet. She dressed in black now, like him, rather than red.

"I, uh, I had thought to write you, while you were in the Stepstones, but I... well, I didn't know what to say and I'm terrible at letters," Rhaenyra offered with another laugh, a nervous chuckle. Her eyes fluttered, gaze dropping.

"I'm not great at it either," Aegon shrugged, head turning to stare out the window, "I was always forgetting to write Daeron. Before."

He needed to do that actually. Let his brother know he was back at the Red Keep. Aegon tugged at his collar. Rhaenyra hummed.

It hadn't been this awkward when he ws younger. Aegon distinctly remembered her apartments being loud, full of laughter and warmth. A fire always roaring. Valyrian called out between his sister and her husband as they teased one another.

The quiet was disconcerting. And Rhaenyra was speaking to him in the common tongue.

Shuddering, Aegon rubbed at his arm.

Rhaenyra cursed under her breath and his head snapped around to look at her. She was sitting up a bit, brows furrowed, "You're cold aren't you? I haven't needed the fire in so long, I hadn't thought-"

"No, no," Aegon waved her off, gaze flicking down towards her stomach again, "I'm fine. I..." He pushed his hair back from his face with a shrug, "I mean, I'm use to it, really."

"You're recoverying, Egg," Rhaenyra frowned at him. Her arm waved over the back of the couch. Another servant descended on the fire place.

"Thanks," Aegon mumbled and he crossed the room to stand closer to the flames. He paused in front of the couch, setting the bundle with the swords on the low table between them.

Aegon swayed on his feet as the heat rolled over him. He gripped the mantle, inhaling sharply. His skin tingled.

Stomping footsteps preceeded a shout, "Uncle Aegon!" His nephew was followed by an out of a breath woman in a dark red dress, hair covered by a pale bonnet. His nanny, most like. His very tired nanny, by the look of things.

Rhaenyra dismissed the woman as Joffrey raced across the room, nearly barreling into his legs. He stopped himself just short. Arms windmilling, Joffrey steadied himself and looked up at him, smiling.

"The maid said you brought me a gift!" Bouncing, Joffrey's eyebrows wiggled, "Did you bring Jace a gift too, or Luke? Is it just for me?!"

"Entirely yours," Aegon confirmed and the grin on his nephew's face grew. Rhaenyra groaned, rubbing at her temples. Aegon glanced her way, frowning.

With a tight smile, Rhaenyra met his gaze, "Sibling rivalry has, uh, become a bit of an issue for my boys as late."

Joffrey scoffed, clasping his hands behind his back, chin rising, "Is not. I'm winning." Aegon choked on his laughter, muffling it with his fist as Rhaenyra pursed her lips.

"Well, these are yours now," Aegon gestured towards the table, "But my mother always said I couldn't use them against my siblings, so... same rules for you, I suppose."

Brow furrowing, Joffrey approached the low table. He tentatively reached for the blue fabric. Aegon crouched beside him, clearing his throat as his thigh twinged at the stretch of his muscles. He untied the wrappings and opened the fabric he'd covered them in to reveal the two swords.

"You're a bit older than I was when Laenor gave them to me, but... you should still get a bit of use out of them, before you start your lessons properly."

His nephew was staring at the swords, eyes wide. Aegon pulled the blunted dirk closer. With a flourish, he presented Joffrey the handle, where a seahorse wrapped around the pommel decoratively. It was a show piece. Likely given to Laenor as an elaborate gift by some rich lord before the blade had been blunted for him.

"This is... mine?" Joffrey traced the seahorse with his fingers, whispering softly. He sniffled, tears racing down his cheeks even as he smiled, "This was my father's?"

"Your father had that made specially," Rhaenyra supplied as Aegon floundered in the face of Joffrey's crying. His head reared back and Rhaenyra chuckled, wiping at her face, "It caused quite a stir, actually, the first born son of a Targaryen king running around with a Velaryon blade."

Aegon laughed, head ducking to the side, "I'd always assumed the shouting was because I kept swinging it around while you were pregnant with Jace." He didn't catch the way Rhaenyra's lips curved down. Joffrey chose that moment to tackle him, arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug.

He released Aegon just as quickly, tugging the short bladed weapon closer so he could inspect every inch. Joffrey was so enthralled he didn't noticed Aegon falling onto his ass, eyes squeezing shut as stars burst in his vision. He grit his teeth, throat bobbing.

Joffrey didn't notice. But Rhaenyra did.

"Egg?" Rhaenyra called out to him. He waved her off, laughter stuttering as he stretched his leg out on the floor.

"I'm fine," Aegon leaned back against the couch, breathing slowly. Joffrey looked up from the sword then. Brow furrowing, his nephew glanced from Aegon to Rhaenyra and back.

"Is that 'fine' like how Jace says it when he's mad or like Luke when he's crying?" Joffrey asked skeptically, eyes narrowing. Aegon gasped.

Laughter bubbling up, he fell back on the floor, nearly screaming as his shoulder burned. Nostrils flaring, Aegon stared up at his little nephew.

The boy was clutching a blunted sword to his chest and frowning. It was so familiar, nearly the exact expression that his brother had given Aegon growing up when he knew the older boy was lying.

Aegon managed a smile, "Both." He blew out a breath, gaze moving up to the ceiling. The stars were back. "It's the Targaryen 'fine' and it's always a lie."

"Does that mean you need a maester?" Joffrey nudged his side softly, eliciting a sharp reprimand from his mother. Aegon snorted.

"No. Mellos will just rewrap them again." His shoulder was blazing now. Sharp needling sensations drumming at his skin as he pushed himself onto his elbows. "The old bastard didn't listen to me about the sand earlier. So I'll just wait."

Rhaenyra cleared her throat and Aegon dragged his head to the side to meet her gaze. Brows arched high, "Sand? For what?"

He considered lying. Or just shutting his mouth, which is what he probably should've done several minutes ago. But she'd slipped into Valyrian, eyes flicking to Joffrey as his nose wrinkled.

"The wildfire," Aegon responded in kind and Joffrey whined. Obviously, she hadn't started teaching him the language yet. "The healer I saw last night put it in her poultice. She said if it started burning more, I needed to do it again."

His sister squinted at him. The room quiet a moment, and then she huffed. Standing, she pointed a finger at him, "Don't move." When she returned with a maester, Aegon scowled. "This is Maester Gerardys. He came with me from Dragonstone, his specialty is healing."

"You said a healer recommended sand in the poultice for your shoulder injury?" the man asked, hands clasped in front of him, on display. He didn't approach.

"Maybe," Aegon pursed his lips. His gaze flicked from him to Rhaenyra and then to Joffrey.

His nephew was no longer distracted by the swords. He hadn't released his hold on the dirk, but he was focused on Aegon, eyes narrowing. The boy raised his chin, pouting, "You're hurt. You should let us help."

Aegon said nothing. His throat bobbed as the burning clawed at his nerves.

Joffrey stomped his foot, "You let Jace help!"

Oh fuck. Aegon sat up quickly, hands squeezing at Joffrey's arms, "Okay. Okay. I'll let you help."

His nephew preened and Aegon dutifully moved onto the couch, sitting sideways, before shrugging his shirt and doublet off his shoulder. Gerardys kept his distance and Joffrey was diligent in helping him undo the various closures separating the man from Aegon's injury.

"Don't spread your legs so far," Aegon called out as Joffrey started slashing about with the dirk. Rhaenyra had shoo-ed him away when Gerardys moved to peel away his dressings. A good call, considering the way she'd inhaled when she saw the injury.

They were still wet this time. Barely. It didn't hurt so much as when Mellos had done it, regardless.

"Not so much force, you want to be in control," Aegon watched the boy correct himself and then immediately look to Aegon. He smiled, "Better." Joffrey continued, grinning wider.

"You're quite good with him," Rhaenyra hummed as she settled on the couch in front of him. She pursed her lips as Gerardys worked behind him. Absently, she rubbed at her bump.

Aegon resisted the urge to shrug, "I have two brothers, Nyra. And I have it on good authority most people think I'm rather immature so... I'm excellent with children, obviously."

A smile flickered on her face. She glanced over her shoulder at Joffrey, at his excitement. He ran back to the table, exchanging the dirk for the wooden sword. His inspection turned up the mark on the bottom of the handle.

"What's this?" Joffrey held out the wooden weapon, forehead creasing. It was an old mark, burned into the wood, faded.

"That's my name," Aegon hummed, tracing the letters, "I didn't want it to get lost, so my name was burned into the handle. It's in the Valyrian script, that's why it looks different."

His vision blurred as he ran his thumb over the burnt wood. Over 'Egg' written by a man who'd had a lot of practice burning things, but never with the same precision as he had this. And never with a small child hovering over his shoulder.

"Laenor did it himself, actually," Aegon mumbled, eyes fluttered as he raised his chin. Joffrey held it to his chest, craddling it.

The door opened and Aegon stiffened. Jace and Luke froze when they saw him. Joffrey didn't. He scrambled towards his brothers, "Jace! Luke! Look! Look! Aegon said father burned this himself!" The second Jace had taken the wooden sword, he was running back for the dirk. "And this one has the Velaryon seahorse on it!"

Joffrey talked quickly, and loud. His excitement palpable as his brothers knelt to look at the swords with him. Aegon watched them over the back of the couch as Gerardys applied a poultice, with sand in it.

He sighed, the wound cooling almost instantly. Aegon's head bowed. Face pressed to the fabric of the couch.

A hand touching his startled him and Aegon's gaze dropped. Rhaenyra squeezed and his eyes rose to her face. She smiled, tears on her cheeks, "Thank you. I... he doesn't have much of Laenor's. Jace and Luke remember him at least, but Joff..."

"He has his name, right?" Aegon offered and Rhaenyra's lashes fluttered. "My mother said Laenor picked Joffrey's name. Not you." Her lips parted, mouth falling open just slightly. "Is that wrong?"

"No!" Rhaenyra shook her head, shoulders rolling back. A hand moved to her necklace, fiddling with it, "I just... I didn't know Alicent knew that."

Aegon did shrug this time, now that Gerardys was done with his shoulder. The burning had dulled. He pulled his shirt on, still watching the Velaryon brothers inspect his old toys. Even Jace was transfixed, eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he ran his thumb over the seahorse on the dirk.

"I'd have liked that," Aegon sighed, hands dropping into his lap, shoulders hunching. He looked back at Rhaenyra, "I'd have liked it, if my father had picked my name." She pursed her lips, nodding sharply.

The king hadn't picked his name. The hand would boast that he did. But it was her. Rhaenyra. She'd named him.

His mother said his labor had been easy, and maybe it had been, but she'd been sick after. Feverish. The king had been feasting, everyone celebrating the birth of a son while the queen lay, delirious and probably still bleeding. It depending on who told the story.

The queen herself only admitted it long enough to make the joke that when she recovered, all the maids and the wetnurse were already calling him Egg.

"Everyone should have something from their parents," Aegon hummed, leaning against the couch. His chest ached watching as Jace picked Joffrey up, listening intently as his little brother rambled on about the sword in his hand. As if Jace hadn't just inspected it, same as he had. Nodding along, asking questions.

Jealous. Aegon was jealous. Could feel the emotion settling like a stone in his gut. Feel it tugging at his chest.

A hand cupped his face, palm warm against his cheek. Aegon flinched as Rhaenyra wiped his tears away. He pulled his doublet up with a snap, standing, "I have to go."

"Egg-"

"I'm not suppose to be here," Aegon huffed, cringing as he jostled his leg. He fumbled with the ties of his shirt. "I'll get in trouble."

His nephews were all watching him as he fled. The guards too, when he stumbled in the hall. He didn't stop though, not even when Rhaenyra called after him. Or Jace.

It was stupid to go. Dangerous. Aemond was right. His vision blurred and he rubbed at his eyes. Willing the tears away as he took shaky breaths.

He didn't go back to his mother's rooms. Walked right past the door and the kingsguard waiting in front of it. They shouted for him too, but Aegon climbed the stairs instead, half crawling up to his own room.

Collapsing on the floor, in the middle of the room, Aegon curled up, crying. He hated it. Chest heaving. Head pounding. Everything hurt and he couldn't even blame the stupid stitches.

Maybe his grandfather was right. Maybe he was weak. Useless. Maybe that was why the king didn't care what happened to him. Maybe that was why his father only loved Rhaenyra. Maybe it was him.

Chapter Text

It was Cole that found him. Probably the only one who'd bothered to look. Aegon had whimpered as the kingsguard picked him up, cradling him in his arms. His face turned into his chest even as his breaths came out in short huffs when they descended the stairs.

"Your mother is worried," Cole whispered as they went. Aegon sniffed. His mother was always worried. "The princess sent her guards to find you, certain you'd reinjure yourself."

"Ha!" Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. "They didn't find me." Cole chuckled. Aegon breathed out. "I didn't hide."

Cole hummed, turning as they came to the hallway. Aegon could feel eyes on him. Judgement. The hand would hear about this, might even be one of the ones looking at him now.

Just more evidence that he was weak. A child hiding behind his mother's skirts. Her sworn shield.

"I'm more aware than the average Targaryen guard of where you go when upset, your grace," Cole didn't say it till he'd entered the queen's chambers, passing through the receiving room.

Fewer eyes. Servants probably. Maybe kingsguards.

His mother was there. He could hear her whispering. Words too quiet for him to recognize. Sharp tones though. Anger.

"I don't know what upset him, Alicent!" Rhaenyra snapped and Aegon stiffened. Cole's arms tightened. His hold firm. Rhaenyra huffed, "He shouldn't be walking around so much, not with those injuries."

"Prince Aegon can decide for himself how to deal with his injuries, I think, your grace."

The hand. Lips trembling, Aegon held his breath, listening hard. His mother was quiet. Rhaenyra scoffed.

"He's pushing himself, needlessly," Rhaenyra insisted, tone sharp, "And Mellos ignored him. That's unacceptable."

"I will speak with the grandmaester immediately," Otto assured her, voice little more than a gruff grumble as they entered the hall.

Did they think him asleep? A child being carried to his room. But they'd just left his room. Dusty and empty, untouched for nearly two years.

Not like Daeron's room. Not preserved and cleaned, always ready for his return.

"Are you in pain, my prince?" Cole asked as he set him in the bed.

A fire was going. Warming pans were hidden beneath the blankets. Aegon recognized the way the heat traveled up from his toes as Cole tucked him underneath. Took his shoes and his sword.

He should move. Should curl up or sprawl out, find a comfortable position. But Aegon just lay there, resting on his right side, his left leg forward to keep the weight on his right thigh minimal. Positioned exactly as Cole had placed him.

"Aegon?" Cole pushed his hair out of his face, fingers light on Aegon's face. Aegon gasped out, sobbing softly. "Are you in pain, Aegon? The maester can-"

"Why do you care?" Aegon stared up at him, vision swimming through his tears. Cole seemed like a giant, even without his armor. A shadow looming over him, nearly as threatening as he was comforting.

The kingsguard startled, face twisting with confusion, "Your grace? You're my prince, it's my duty to-"

"No." Aegon croaked, inhaling a shaky breath. He shook his head, skull throbbing, "Why do you care? Why do you... why me? Why do you care what happens to me?"

"I've known you since you were born, your grace," Cole furrowed his brow. He brushed silver strands off pale cheeks. Almost affectionate.

Aegon blinked up at him, trembling.

His body was so cold. Even with all the heat. Everything tingled, his limbs heavy and aching. Head throbbing. He couldn't tell, what was his injuries, what was just... just him. His weakness.

Everything was all jumbled together. All his memories. All his pain. Everything throbbing like an open sore he couldn't even see. The world spinning, the room tilting. Nothing steady.

"I just do," Cole pursed his lips, cupping his cheek. Aegon grabbed at his wrist, clinging to the contact. To the single solid thing grounding him here. Cole shook his head, shrugging, "There's no one specific reason. I just... care. I wish to see you safe. Always."

"But why?" Aegon whispered, fingers digging into tan flesh. Cole's brow furrowed, his head tilted.

A smile flickered on his face, soft as he chuckled, "I've watched you grow, my prince." His palm pressed more firmly to Aegon's cheek. "I don't know that any man could watch a boy under his charge grow into a man without... " Aegon's breath hitched as Cole bit his lip. His smile grew tight, thoat bobbing, "I just do, your grace."

Silence grew. Aegon took gulping breaths, sobs rising up without his permission, throttling him it seemed. Cole remained beside the bed, one knee on the mattress as he pet at Aegon's head with his free hand.

An awkward, stilted comfort as Aegon refused to release him. Aegon leaned into the touch all the same.

"Do you like me?" Aegon whispered, gaze falling to the bed as Cole's hand paused. "Am I... do you even want to care?"

"Most of the time," Cole sighed, huffing softly. A laugh. The hand moved to cup his other cheek, to hold his face in both hands. His voice was harder now. "Did something happen? Did Rhaenyra... did something happen?"

Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head, curling inward finally, "No." His voice cracked and he sobbed harder, "I want my mother." Cole tried again, words softer. Aegon screamed, releasing him, "I want my mother!"

In a moment, Cole was at the door, whispering to his mother as Aegon took gasping breaths into a pillow. "He won't say what happened, your grace. I don't think he's been hurt. But..."

"But what?" his mother hissed. Aegon squeezed his hand in the pillow, stuffing his whole face against the fabric as he took another shuddering breath, whining. Whimpering. Weak.

His head was pounding. The chorus of battle that had grown in his head over the day grew louder. Louder than his heartbeat, than his breathing, than Cole and his mother.

"He asked me some rather odd questions," Cole admitted, voice lowering. The rest of his words too quiet for Aegon to hear.

"Go." The queen sent him away. "See to Aemond. Make sure... keep him in the training yard as long as you can." The door closed behind Cole and then the mattress dipped.

Surging forward, Aegon cried into his mother's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him. Rocking slowly as he tried to curl up in her lap like he had as a child. As he hadn't been able to do since he was eight. He settled for half, curling himself around her side instead.

Fingers combed through his hair, a hand rubbed at his back. Aegon kept crying, hiccuping sobs that left him gasping.

It was all he could hear. His crying. Screams. He couldn't tell if they were his. He didn't think so. They were muffled. Like he was listening through a pillow over his head.

Flames danced in his eyes as he stared at the fire across the room. The smell of ash, of smoke. Rotten flesh.

He'd sent him there. Sent him to be a weapon, to aim Sunfyre at their bodies and give the command. The king had sent him to burn people, to kill them. And then he ignored him. His father ignored him. Didn't even know him.

Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. His mother kissed his face, murmuring half comforts he couldn't hear, didn't want to.

They'd all known. His mother. Cole. The hand. His grandfather had wanted Aemond to go. But Rhaenyra... Rhaenyra had spoken up. Rhaenys.

"Why doesn't he care?" Aegon asked his mother. Limbs spasming as he shuddered. "He could've sent Daemon." His mother stiffened at his whisper. He clung tighter. "He didn't have to send me. He didn't have to send me alone."

"Is that- Did Rhaenyra-" the queen stumbled for her words, her grip bruising as she held him. Aegon just shook his head. Crying, he pushed a fist against his mouth.

Joffrey would never know his father. Would never know if Laenor would be proud of him. But he had Jace. And Luke. And Daemon. Corlys even. People who loved him, who could tell him Laenor loved him.

And he had his name. A name lovingly given. A name with meaning.

Aegon knew. Aegon's father was alive. Was well enough to sit the throne again. But Viserys didn't love him. The king wasn't proud him. His father had found him lacking since his birth.

A son he didn't need. A son to be tossed aside, used only as a tool.

"I love you," his mother whispered against his head, voice shaking, "I am proud of you." She kissed at his cheek, peppering his face with them. "I need you. I want you."

She repeated it. Over and over. Until his breathing calmed down, till his sobs became shaky breaths and his tears slowed. His mother held him, she refused to let him go.

Aegon went limp in her arms. Eyelids heavy as she rocked him. He was breathing almost normally. His chest rising slowly, stuttering only here and there as he exhaled, as the air rushed from his lungs. Fleeing from his body, a most inhospitable place.

He wanted to flee too, wanted everything to stop moving. Sand, constantly moving beneath his feet, dragging him to his knees.

"Talk to me," his mother begged, combing a hand through his hair as he lay with his head in her lap. "What happened, my sweet?"

"I gave Joffrey my old practice swords," Aegon admitted, voice flat, cracking. He blinked, staring up at her. She stiffened again, brow furrowing. "The ones Laenor gave me."

She nodded, throat bobbing, "I know which ones you meant." His shoulders shook. Her eyes fluttered, lips pursing, "I... I'm not angry." She was. "I understand. They... they should be with Joffrey. He needs them."

His mother was a terrible liar. Her jaw was clenched tight. She was looking at the bed beside his face rather than meeting his eyes.

"He doesn't need them," Aegon whispered, head shaking. Her fingers twitched. "Joffrey will start regular lessons soon. He doesn't need them." His mother met his gaze. "But he didn't have anything, from his father. And now he does."

"That was kind of you," his mother breathed out. Her eyes fluttered as the tears fell. They hit his already wet face. She wiped at her eyes, squeezing them shut as she sniffled.

Neither of them had anything else to say. But she stayed. Sitting there. His head in her lap, hand petting at his hair as the world stopped spinning. She stayed, until the room tilted back and everything was quiet again, even in his head.

She was there, holding him still, as the sand shifted all around him. His mother would never let him sink. Would never let him go.

Not unless he made her.

"I think I pulled my stitches out again," Aegon finally answered Cole's first question, hours later, the man nowhere in sight.

She took a breath above him. A shaky laugh. His mother nodded, slipping out from under his head.

"Will you be..." she paused at the foot of the bed, forehead creasing.

He blew out a breath, sighing softly. "I'm fine." She frowned. Aegon chuckled. He closed his eyes, "I think I'm okay for now. The maester can stitch it in the morning."

"That's not what I mean," the queen inhaled deeply, turning to leave. Aegon tilted his head back. He'd known what she meant.

"You should check on Aemond," Aegon mumbled as she lingered by the door. She exhaled. The door clicked shut behind her.

Aegon opened his eyes to stare at the canopy hanging above him. The fabric a deep green, the shadows long as the flames flickered in the fireplace. It would go out soon. Plunge the room into darkness. Let the cold seep back in.

"Uncle?" Jace hissed and he pulled his head up, squinting at the section of his wall where a doorway quickly appeared, the stone scaping across itself as Jace hit a latch. "I wasn't sure you were still awake."

He left the passage open. It didn't close automatically as some of them did. Just sat there, a deep, dark hole, sitting in the room. Just like him.

The bed dipped. His nephew settled beside him, a few inches away, not touching. "Mother said Cole found you in your old room."

"Yeah, Cole found me in my room, brought me here," Aegon confirmed, gaze focused on the canopy, on the flickering shadows. "He said your mother sent her guards to search for me, after I left."

"She called for Daemon first, he was with the baby in the nursery." Jace shifted closer. Still not touching, but his warmth beat against his side, stronger than the fire.

Aegon swallowed, turned his head. Jace's eyes were golden. The dying embers reflected in his dark irises as he stared at Aegon. Unflinching. Focused.

"Daemon said something probably triggered you and that you shouldn't be left alone," Jace whispered, lips parting just slightly as he spoke.

Aegon watched them carefully, watched Jace's breath escape in tiny increments. Watched him bite at the bottom lip before continuing.

"That's when she sent the guards looking for you. And a servant, to the queen."

With a snort, Aegon closed his eyes. Always to the queen. Never the king. Even Rhaenyra knew he wasn't on their side, knew he didn't care.

That probably didn't bode well for him, if she were to catch her son and heir in Aegon's bed. Jace had come in the middle of the night after all, through a secret passage. Rhaenyra must not want Jace around him. Not after his... display.

Arm throbbing, Aegon pulled it up to his chest. His soulmark throbbed in time with the rhythm of his heart.

His sister was right, to want Jace far far away from him. He wasn't good enough. She knew, just as well as Aegon did. As the king did. Aegon was just a tool. His soulmark an excuse. A way for the king to force him on Jace, on Rhaenyra. A way to force peace.

But Aegon couldn't make himself send his nephew away, couldn't make himself do the right thing. The words didn't come and Aegon didn't want them to. He wanted to be selfish. Wanted Jace, here, with him.

He was already a screw up, a disappointment. Couldn't even stay in his saddle right.

"Jace," Aegon croaked, turning on his side. He reached for him. The mark on his arm burning as he ducked closer.

The last ember went out in the fire place. All the lingering light in the room snuffed out. Aegon shivered, breath hitching.

He'd never be enough. Not for anyone. But he could... could pretend.

"Would you- would you hold me again? Like you did yesterday?" Aegon's voice shook as his fingers grazed Jace's shirt. He didn't have a doublet on this time.

Hands descended on him, a blazing heat pressed against his whole body. Aegon trembled, gasping as Jace maneuvered them so Aegon was slotted on top of him once again, their legs tangled together.

Jace cared. Maybe not in the way Aegon wanted. But. He'd lived with less. He'd survived with less.

"Please," Aegon nuzzled against Jace's throat, his mouth on his neck, "Please don't hate me." Jace stiffened. "I need you not to hate me."

He could live with disinterest. He could. But even the king didn't hate him. Didn't care enough to bother. But he'd die, Aegon knew it, he'd die if Jace hated him. His lungs would collapse, his heart...

"I don't hate you," Jace promised him, a hand brushing through his hair. He slipped into Valyrian, voice shaking, "I love you, uncle." Aegon sobbed. "I love you." He repeated it, arms growing tight. Aegon sank into the embrace.

It was enough. Enough to be his favorite uncle. It was enough, to be loved like this. It was. It had to be.

Aegon couldn't ask for more. His fingers twisted in Jace's shirt, thumb tracing his bare skin where it road up. Jace shuddered against him. His hips jumping up.

A hand cupped his face. Fingers grazed over his jawline, a thumb swiped at his tears. Jace breathed against his cheek. Warm huffs that sent shivers down his body. Aegon moaned.

Another hand, on his side, fisted in his doublet. Aegon writhed, pressing down. Jace's breaths grew closer together, panting against Aegon's face.

Lips pressed to his cheek, Jace cleared his throat, shifting beneath him, "Go to sleep, Egg. You... you need to rest." The hand on his face moved into his hair. Fingers combed through the tangled mess.

"I'm sorry," Aegon mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. His breath stuttered, "I'm sorry." The room tilted, flipping him, dunking him into sleep. Cold rushing up around him like a bath.

But he didn't shiver. Didn't freeze. A warmth coiled around him. A dragon, like Sunfyre. Nothing could hurt him, not really, not if he was with a dragon. His dragon.

Chapter Text

A stab of pain through his shoulder startled him awake. Aegon groaned as something pressed him back, pressed him down. His hands shoved at it, eyes snapping open.

Jace shushed him, head turned away. Aegon stilled, hand pressed to Jace's heaving chest. He could feel his nephew's heart. The fast paced thump beating wildly beneath his palm.

His heart wasn't all Aegon could feel. A hard cock, pressed against his thigh.

This was a dream. A vivid, beautiful dream as his nephew rocked forward, head ducking low. He blew out a breath, forehead resting against Aegon's as he smiled. Dark hair tickling his skin.

"I thought I heard your mother," Jace whispered, chuckling softly. Aegon stared up at him, eyebrows arching. His nephew's cheeks flushed with color as he raised his head. Their faces only inches apart.

It was morning. Dawn, probably. This room had no windows, but Aegon could tell. He woke with the sun so often his body simply reacted. His cock twitching with interest as he traced a finger down Jace's jawline.

He didn't want to wake up. Wanted to stay here, in this fantasy. His nephew's heart beating in time with his own. Quick and strong.

Days. It'd been days since he'd had a proper fuck. Before Helaena's arrival in the Stepstones even, given Corlys' rather cruel interruption. Aegon had never gone so long before. Never waited so long, not since he'd started going to brothels all those years ago.

"Egg?" Jace spoke softly, a murmur. Voice shaking. His soulmark burned. A tingling sensation spread from his arm, flooding his body with a warmth that had him keening as he lay beneath his nephew.

Arching up, Aegon pushed their chests together, wrapping an arm loosely around Jace's neck as he began to move. His thigh rubbing between Jace's legs as his nephew hovered over him, applying pressure to the hard cock resting against him.

Jace exhaled sharply, mouth falling open. His head lowered. Closer. Breath puffing against Aegon's lips as he started grinding down. Panting.

"Egg~" Jace whined and a hand took hold of his face. Grip tight. Dark eyes stared down at him, pupils dilating. His nephew wanted him.

Gods, this dream was amazing.

Aegon clung to him, lips grazing over his. Jace grabbed at his hip. He held him still, shifting forward, his own leg pressing down on Aegon's throbbing erection now. When Jace started grinding against him again, Aegon saw stars.

"Please~" Aegon begged, head falling back. Jace's hand twitched on his face. His thumb pressed down on Aegon's bottom lip.

Jace groaned, panting against his cheek, "Can I-"

"It's barely dawn!" A harsh whisper outside his door had them both freezing. Aegon grunted as Jace's weight filtered through the fading haze of arousal. His thigh was suddenly screaming, pain stabbing out from the wound as his mother shouted at whoever was outside, "He needs to rest!"

The voices grew closer and the hand did not bother to whisper, "The king asked for him, Alicent, he must go!"

Jace scrambled up, cursing. He jostled Aegon's leg and the stars in his eyes this time weren't from pleasure. He cried out, vision going hazy. The scrap of stone preceeded the click of the door to his room by mere seconds.

"If the king wants to see him, he can come here!" his mother snapped and Aegon choked out a sob. A hand pressed to his face, "He's practically feverish! Get-"

He blacked out. When he came to next, there was an unfortunately very familiar sting in his thigh. Aegon stifled a sob, turning his head away as the needle pushed through his flesh.

"My apologies, your grace, I had hoped the milk of the poppy would allow you to sleep through this," Mellos' gravelly voice carried through the cloud wrapped around his mind. Deadening his senses even as the needle cut through his flesh once more.

She'd said it would hurt more, Mysaria's healer, if stitches were redone too soon. This was that, he was certain. Aegon screamed as the maester kept going. Hands held him down as he thrashed.

Gods, he hated maesters. Mellos especially, since he was the one with the fucking needle.

"Stop!" Aegon begged, head falling back, neck arching. Someone shushed him. A cold rag was pressed to his face.

"Nearly done, your grace," Mellos assured him, huffing as Aegon trembled beneath his touch. Aegon sobbed, gritting his teeth. The stinging lingered, morphing into a sharp and consistent throb.

He lay there, crying into a pillow. Mellos retreated from the bed. The room came into focus slowly. Bits and pieces.

"You said the injury was minor, Mellos," the sharp cut of the king's voice had Aegon's head rising.

He was there. Viserys. The king.

His father.

Standing in a windowless room deep in his mother's apartment. Frowning.

His father had come to see him.

"He has aggravated it, your grace. The repeated stitching has widened the initial entry point. The tissue is torn, inflamed."

"Not suppose to stitch it," Aegon mumbled, blinking slowly as he squinted forward, "You're suppose to wait, for it to go down."

Mellos and the king both looked at him. Aegon gasped, head falling back. He cursed. His mother appeared at his side, a hand on his cheeks. She glared at Mellos, "Is he right? Should you have waited?"

The king turned his gaze on the grandmaester then. He leaned heavily on his cane, "Perhaps we should ask Gerardys to take a look. He has more experience with the medicinal arts, I believe."

"That is but one opinion, your grace." Mellos waved their concerns away, scowling. "The prince is ill experienced with these sorts of injuries, and I hope he remains as such in the future."

"Fuck you," Aegon grumbled, head lulling to the side. They all ignored him. The room spinning around him.

Mellos continued, gesturing emphatically, "To leave the wound open would be to invite infection!" His nod was clipped, gaze sharp as he called towards him, "Prince Aegon will heal fine, so long as he remains off his leg and allows it to do so."

He cursed him in Valyrian this time. Crying out as his leg shook, the wound burning. His shoulder was nearly so bad. A buzzing at his skin rising as if summoned, competing for his attention.

"What did you do?" Aegon's hand fisted in the sheets. "What'd you do to my shoulder?"

"Your burn required a new dressing-" Mellos stepped back as Aegon screamed again. His eyes widened. "It is a simple wet dressing only, your grace, the numbing solution should help the burn-"

"It didn't!" Aegon hissed at him, heels digging into the mattress as he pushed himself up. Spots appeared in his vision.

His mother was kneeling on the bed, hands shaking as they hovered over him, "What do you need? What hurts?"

The healer at the brothel. Her pastes and poultices. Seven Hells, Gerardys had at least listened enough to use sand.

"It's fucking wildfire," Aegon panted, glaring at Mellos, "It burns through everything. All you did was add fucking fuel!" He reached for his shoulder, tearing at the dressing, "Take it off."

"Now, Mellos!" Viserys shouted, and only then did the old maester actually move.

Aegon pressed his face into his mother's chest, shaking as the dressings were peeled off. His vision was blurring again, the edges dark. He whined, nearly sobbing, "Don't- don't let him do anything else."

"I won't," his mother's voice trembled as much as her hands in his hair. Another hand took hold of his right arm, grip bruising.

"Stay awake, Aegon," Viserys ordered, a command from his king. His expression was pinched, mouth pulled down in a severe frown, forehead creased.

Worried? The king was worried. Had something happened to Rhaenyra? The stress... she was pregnant again, had she-

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Aegon gasped, eyes fluttering. The king grabbed his chin then. His mother shouted, but he didn't listen. The king never listened to her.

"You know your injuries better than us, Aegon, you want to decide what happens, you need to be conscious," Viserys said, voice firm, clipped. His fingers were bruising. Aegon focused on them, on the pressure of his grip against his jaw.

"Mysaria," Aegon told him, swallowing thickly. The king's eyes narrowed. A scowl twisting at his features. "She knows... knows what I want." He whimpered, head ducking as Mellos pulled the last dressing off.

"Who's Mysaria?" his mother asked, but he was shaking more now. A sob escaped and his hands fisted in her skirts.

It was the king who answered, nearly growling, "One of Daemon's whores." His mother stiffened. Viserys shouted and Aegon flinched, "Ser Criston! Have my brother woken immediately!"

Breathes heaving, Aegon tried to raise his head up. The motion ripped through his shoulder and he screamed again, vision blacking out as he crumbled back against the bed.

His mother shouted, her hands scrambling to catch him. Aegon was fairly positive she succeeded before he lost consciousness. Again.

Fuck. He really hated Mellos.

Chapter Text

His siblings were both on his bed when he opened his eyes. Aemond nearly curling up on his lap, dozing quietly beside his left leg, one hand fisted in Aegon's shirt, which was, frankly, hilarious.

And adorable.

But he wasn't admitting that bit aloud.

"He's been quite worried," Helaena whispered, sitting up on his other side. Aegon turned his head. She smiled softly, gaze averted, "We all have."

"How long was I out?" Aegon asked, glancing around. He clocked the guard by the door, his red cloak.

This wasn't the room in his mother's chambers. It was his. His tower bedroom. Aegon smiled as he looked at his favorite window. The tall arch framing a rising sun.

It was closed, the window, but the curtains had been drawn open. Light pouring in. A glint of gold caught his eye as it passed by the window. Sunfyre, circling the keep, watching over him.

"Little more than a day or so," Helaena hummed, pulling her legs underneath herself as she leaned back against his headboard. Something Aegon was realizing he couldn't actually do.

Much as he had been at the brothel, Aegon had a pillow under his right thigh, elevating it slightly. The blankets had been pulled away from his wound as well. A familiar green paste was smeared on it. The pillows behind him kept him partially upright, his shoulder away from the headboard.

Wet dressings were the source of the faintly floral scent. A poultice hidden underneath. It ached, throbbed even, but it didn't burn any more. A bit of tingling at the edges the only reminder.

"Mother will be back soon," Helaena told him as Aegon combed his fingers through Aemond's long hair. "She only left to speak with the king and Prince Daemon privately."

"Sounds fun," Aegon drawled, eyebrows jumping up. Helaena's lip quirked. She pressed her fingers to them softly, giggling.

Something settled in his chest. A weight slipping off from his heart, his breaths coming easier, lighter, to have them both so close. Flanking him.

It was always the three of them. The three of them and Daeron, and his mother. His family.

Aegon closed his eyes, head tilting back. His fingers laced in Aemond's hair. Helaena a faint warmth at his side. The little pain he did feel seemed to melt away.

A throat cleared in the doorway. Both he and Helaena turned their head. Cole stood in the doorway. A woman stood at his side, older. With crows feet and wrinkles on her forehead.

"Good, you're awake this time," the healer walked into the room and Aegon blinked at her.

On their last meeting, he hadn't gotten a particularly good look at her. The darkness of his room at the brothel had hidden most of her features. Her olive skin, nearly bronze with a dark tan, had been indiscernable in the firelight.

"It seems you are determined to have your wounds scar, boy."

Her thick drawl was clipped as she circled the bed. She waved Helaena down when his sister moved to leave the bed. The healer huffed, eyebrow arching as she nodded towards Aemond.

"If it's a competition, it is not one either of you shall win."

Lip twitching up, Aegon laughed, "It's not." He glanced down at his brother, at the long scar slashed down his face, cutting into cheek. "Though, I would have two, to his one."

"You'd be the sensible one then, hmm, girl?" The healer sighed, turning her head to look at Helaena. His sister's eyes fluttered. She nodded mutely.

"Do you require anything more, to treat the prince, miss?" Cole stood stiffly at the foot of the bed, jaw clenched. The woman glanced his way.

With a nod towards Aemond, she smirked, "Does the younger one need to be woken? Or can he remain, while I inspect his brother's injuries?"

Cole's lips pursed, "If he is not in the way, it would be better to let him rest."

"As I thought," she turned her attention to Aegon's thigh then. A rag was fetched from a nearby table, but she did not dunk it into the water. It was slid underneath his thigh before she peeled the dried paste up.

Aegon inhaled sharply as it pulled at his skin, but it was short lived. She hummed thoughtfully. Looking down at his thigh, Aegon found the gash was much the same as the first time he'd seen it on the Stepstones, when the maester redid his stitches the first time he pulled them out.

The edges of the wound were red and throbbing. His skin yellowed and bruised with blood dried in the center. It was bigger though, and the hole was now jagged rather than circular. Helaena shifted closer, lashes fluttering as she watched the healer probe at the flesh around the wound.

"I will be applying a salve with beeswax this time. It may help the wound close, in the absence of stitches." She nodded approvingly when Aegon hissed at the final press of her fingers.

"You're not going to restitch it?" Aegon arched a brow and her eyes narrowed. He flushed, head ducking under her scrutiny. "Is that later?"

"No." Her nose wrinkled. "You will not be walking on it now." Aegon blinked. Her gaze shifted towards Cole and the kingsguard rolled his shoulders back. "He is not to leave this bed, is that understood, young man?"

Cole agreed with a sharp nod, ignoring Aegon's choked protest. "The queen has ordered it. The prince will not leave the bed."

A faint smirk rose on the woman's face as she continued to work. She too ignored Aegon's whining and complaining. He shut up quickly when she used a candle to begin heating beeswax.

"Is this going to hurt him?" Helaena whispered, steps soft as she slid from the bed to follow the healer's progress at a nearby table.

Aegon frowned at her absence. His hand fisted in Aemond's shirt. A request for wine was quickly answered, a servant appearing with a pitcher and a goblet for him.

The woman explained her work to Helaena, walking her through the steps. She even allowed her to study several of the jars that held some sort of bug. In one of them the bugs were even alive and his sister quietly listed off several facts.

Apparently, it did hurt. But only for a moment, a brief burst of pain. Aegon's grunt quickly morphed into a sigh as the hot mixture was spread over his skin. Smeared with a wooden stick.

"What is that?" Aemond stirred, head rising as he blinked at the treatment. He frowned when the woman snorted.

"Oh, that was not for you boy, I am merely amused that I was summoned here by the sibling who is the least interested in what I'm doing."

At that, Aegon froze, goblet pressed to his lips. She was looking at him. Pointedly.

"Yes, well," Aegon cleared his throat, shrugging despite her immediate reprimand not to do so, "I was sort of listening, when you told Helaena."

"Help your brother with his shirt," she instructed Aemond, turned back to the table. Her jars spread out just as they had been at the brothel.

In short order, the dressing on his shoulder was removed. The wound cleaned, poked, and then a new poultice applied. Rather uneventful, beyond the way both of his siblings had paled at seeing the twisted and torn flesh.

"The wildfire is stubborn," she tied his bindings tight, sighing, "Perhaps it too is part-dragon." Her hand was warm on his arm as she retreated from where she knelt on the bed beside him. Aegon smiled to himself. She chided him, "Ah, don't look so pleased. That's not a compliment."

"Being a dragon is always a compliment," Aegon shot back, chin rising. He grinned wider as her nostrils flared and her head shook.

As she circled back to her table, she paused to pat Cole's arm in comfort, "You have great patience, ser, to deal with such a child." For the first time since entering the room, Cole's lips twitched up, nearly smiling.

Aegon pouted, arms crossing with a huff. Aemond returned to his spot beside him, cackling. The traitor. Aegon shoved his head away.

"Ah!" The healer clicked her tongue, fingers snapping, "No roughhousing, boy, you will jostle your wounds."

The wax on his thigh had hardened enough that she now dressed it. Helaena hovered behind her and the healer let his sister tie the bindings. She perked up, smiling brightly as she completed the task.

As if summoned by the end of her work, or perhaps merely notified, the king strolled into his room. Aegon straightened as his siblings both shrunk in on his bed, closer to him. The healer paused in the gathering of her jars, but she did not bow her head as the rest of them did.

"You seem well, nephew," Daemon drawled as he followed after his brother. He gave the healer a second look, pausing as his eyes narrowed on her, "I did not expect a Dornishwoman to take such care with a Targaryen prince."

"Rhoynar," she corrected, lips curling back. Her accent thickened, "I am not Dornish, and I have not seen its sandy shores since I left the Greenblood many decades ago." Daemon hummed. "A question?"

"One might argue a Rhoynar would have even more reason to dislike a son of Valyria," Daemon rocked forward on his feet, lips twitching as his fingers drummed on the pommel of his sword.

For all his looming and intimidation, he earned only a chuckle. The healer looked from Daemon to Aegon. "Valyria is gone. All I see is a boy." Her gaze moved to the door and she inclined her head in a shallow bow, "The son of a queen."

His mother startled, eyes fluttering as heads turned to face her. Her brow furrowed as she straightened, "You've finished today, my lady?"

"Yes, your grace." Aegon twitched at the address. His eyes wide as she detailed her course of treatment, speaking directly to his mother, ignoring both Daemon and the king.

"Exactly as you expected then, after your assessment yesterday," the queen clasped her hands together in front of her skirts. A smile rising on her lips, "You will return tomorrow then?"

Another bow, "I have left instructions for his shoulder as requested. Your daughter observed me closely today, neither of you should have issue with replacing a poultice."

The tension in the air was high. Aegon drained his cup and handed it, empty, to his brother. Aemond held it tightly, refusing to budge an inch even after the healer had swept from the room, followed closely by Ser Criston.

"We ought to have a maester check her work," the king spoke for the first time, nose wrinkling. His mother pinched the bridge of her nose as he huffed, "I mean, really, he found her in a brothel, Alicent!"

"Mysaria vouched for her vehemently, brother. She lured her to King's Landing from Essos, where she worked in several houses of healing over the years. She traveled, extensively."

Aegon's eyes flicked across the room, tracking the conversation as they argued. It was not often his mother and Daemon agreed. And yet, here they were, arguing with the king.

About him. Or, his healer, anyway. The healer he'd wanted. Summoned, as she'd said.

Viserys hadn't so much as looked at him yet. He'd spent the entire time scowling at the healer, and then at his mother, or Daemon. Aegon's chest tightened.

"Would you prefer to keep letting Mellos fuck about with my injuries?" Aegon called out, jaw clenching as, finally, the king looked at him.

Eyes fluttered, lip curving down in a harsh frown. Viserys squeezed at his cane. He sighed, head shaking as he looked back at Daemon.

"I'm sure he'd have stumbled into the proper way to treat wildfire eventually," Aegon snorted, sneering as the king's gaze returned, "Or Gerardys would have stepped in, maybe cut a few limbs off."

His mother inhaled sharply, eyes squeezing shut. Daemon stilled entirely, frozen. Just like Aemond. Both of them staring at him, eyes wide.

Aegon didn't look away from the king. The man's expression stormy, eyes as hard as stone when they met his. Viserys took a step towards the bed.

"You found a healer at a brothel, Aegon," the king reminded him curtly. "The maesters are learned men, trained healers. They may not fuck you first, but I assure you they are not so useless as you imply."

"Pity." Aegon hummed, chin rising, "Maybe they'd be worth the coin if they did."

On several occasions, Aegon had been told he had his father's eyes, that they had the same look, he and the king. He wondered, vaguely, if the king himself ever thought the same as they stared each other down.

The king blinked, taking another step as his nostrils flared. Beside him, Helaena ducked her head, turning her face towards the headboard even as she leaned in front of him, blocking his body with her own.

"Don't," Helaena whispered, tears in her eyes. She trembled as their mother grasped the king's arm. Her own quiet plea just audible.

"He is tired, Viserys, recovering, please, we ought to let him rest."

A hand wrapped around his wrist and Aegon glanced at it. Aemond's fingers were long, pale. His face had drained of all color as he stared blankly forward.

With a huff, the king stalked from the room, cane loud as it hit the floor. Aemond flinched at each of his steps. Helaena drew back into herself, crying quietly against the headboard.

Aegon shuddered, sagging back against his pillows. His eyes fluttered. Tears sticking to his lashes as he bit his lip.

Their mother had followed the king, trailing after him, fretting. But Daemon remained. He was staring at them. Mouth hanging open as his brow furrowed.

"What?!" Aegon snapped at him, voice cracking. His uncle reared back, eyes wide. He took a step forward. Aemond flinched, hand squeezing uselessly around Aegon's wrist.

Daemon stilled, frozen once more. His lips pursed and then he ducked his head in a quick bow, "I shall leave you to your siblings nephew." His eyes flicked over them again. He opened his mouth again, but no sound came out. Twice more he repeated the attempt before finally walking from Aegon's room.

"What was that?!" Aemond hissed once they were alone. Aegon squeezed his eyes shut, gasping as he shook his head.

"I don't know," Aegon admitted, chest still tight. He raised a hand to press at his sternum. A few tears escaped as he exhaled, nostrils flaring, "I just wanted him to look at me."

Chapter Text

The next few days passed in a vague blur. He wasn't allowed to do much. It was only after hours of complaining, and three escape attempts, that he finally convinced Cole to let him sit by the window.

Aegon, begrudgingly, allowed himself to be carried the four steps from his bed to the window. A compromise he was not planning to make again.

"If you bring me Arbor Gold again, I will fling myself from this window," Aegon shouted after the servant retreating from his nest of pillows with an empty pitcher. They stumbled, eyes wide, and Cole sighed heavily.

"It has only been three days, my prince," Cole pinched the bridge of his nose. He exchanged a look with the healer as she left.

Whining, Aegon let his head fall back against the window frame, "Unlike you I did not take a vow of celibacy, Ser Criston. I haven't gone this long without a fuck since I was twelve."

"Thank you, your grace, for that disturbing piece of information," Cole drawled, eyes rolling.

The kingsguard straightened where he leaned against the wall beside the window and Aegon turned his head towards the door. He paused, goblet at his lips, to find his sister standing there.

Not Helaena.

And she was not alone. A small head of dark curls bobbed just behind her, hiding in her skirts.

"Are you feeling up for visitors, little brother?" Rhaenyra cleared her throat, smiling tightly as she ignored the conversation she'd just walked in on. Her eyes fluttered, hand squeezing Joffrey's.

"There is not enough wine in this castle to make Ser Criston more interesting," Aegon told her, waving her in as Cole huffed.

Joffrey peeked out from behind Rhaenyra, eyes ringed red and his free hand clutching at her dress. He looked up at his mother and she nudged him forward.

"Don't worry, nephew, I will not allow you to fall to Ser Criston's boredom," Aegon grinned at him, laughing to himself before dropping his voice to a faux whisper, "If you brought one of my gifts with you, we might just manage to talk him in to a bit of fun even."

A soft giggle was muffled in Rhaenyra's skirts and then his nephew finally took a step past her. Standing before him, Joffrey rolled his shoulders back, jaw set, "I'm sorry I hurt you uncle."

Aegon blinked at him. Nose scrunching up, he tilted his head. Rhaenyra squeezed at Joffrey's shoulders as Aegon squinted at him, "When did you hurt me?" He shook his head, glancing towards Cole, "How drunk am I?"

"Very, your grace," Cole answered, lips pursed tight. Aegon nodded sharply, barking with laughter. That sounded right.

Eyebrow arching, he looked back at Joffrey. "Fraid you'll have to explain then," Aegon hummed, holding up a finger as he finished his wine, "Slowly. And with small words preferably."

The goblet made a very low whistling sound before smashing to the ground outside his window with a crack.

"Oh, uh, well, you got hurt," Joffrey flushed, wringing his tiny hands and rocking forward, "Or, hurt worse, when you brought me your gifts." He bit his lip, eyes pointed at the floor with a glare, "And then you ran away. So, I must have hurt you."

He should not have laughed, but he did. In fact, Aegon devolved into giggles, slumping sideways in such a way that Cole actually lurched forward to ensure he didn't fall out the window.

"Your apology is very unnecessary, my adorable little nephew," Aegon took a deep breath and reached for Joffrey, tugging him close. He cupped his face, squishing his cheeks.

Joffrey tensed as he was pulled onto Aegon's lap, head whirling around in a short panic. He huffed, blowing out his own breath when he saw that he was perched on Aegon's good thigh.

"My running away is what led to me being hurt worse," Aegon explained, hugging him back against his chest. He ruffled a hand through dark curls, "And Mellos." He snorted, head lulling to the side. "Not that he'll ever apologize. Or admit it."

A breathy laugh from Rhaenyra had Aegon's head rising to her, eyes fluttering. He hummed as she smiled at him. Resting atop her stomach, her fingers twisted around one another, fiddling with rings, turning them.

"You and my mother have very similar habits when you're nervous," Aegon mumbled and she startled, head tilting down as she followed his gaze to her hands. He blinked.

"Oh, yes, well, the rings were her idea," Rhaenyra chuckled, head rising. "A long while ago now." Her smile was softer now. Wistful.

Huh.

Joffrey squirmed in his arms and Aegon's attention returned to the small child he'd trapped against his chest.

"Would you like to have fun now?" Aegon asked him, grinning wickedly. Cole straightened again. Stiff. Joffrey giggled, nodding emphatically as he looked up at Aegon.

With his nephew's full attention, Aegon took a breath, pausing for dramatic effect. And then he called out the window. A single word, shouted in Valyrian, that had Cole and Rhaenyra both cursing.

"Come!"

Sunfyre shrieked, wings flapping loudly as he appeared in the window, pressing as much of his maw through the opening as he could. The walls rumbling as his wings beat against the outside.

"Sunfyre!" Joffrey squealed with delight, hands already reaching for golden scales.

Aegon pressed his palm to the center of his dragon's face, directly between his flaring nostrils. "Calm," he commanded, and Sunfyre merely huffed as tiny fingers ran over his maw. Not nearly so delicate.

In quiet awe, Joffrey's eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth spread even wider with joy. He breathed out, fingers traced scales, "He's beautiful."

"Told you," Aegon preened, chin rising. "He's the most beautiful dragon to ever exist. Obviously~"

"Your grace," Cole cleared his throat, standing perfectly still an arm length's away. His eyebrows rose high up on his forehead, "The tower. We discussed... Sunfyre is not as small as he once was."

With a low whine, Aegon's shoulders sagged. He patted at Sunfyre's scales and sent him away. He smiled as the wind from the dragon's wings cut through the room, ruffling his hair.

"That was amazing!" Joffrey cheered. His mother swooping in a moment later to tug him back to her side. Hands flying over his body. But Joffrey cared very little for her attention, jumping about and asking questions.

"Oh yes, even when he couldn't fit through the window anymore to sleep in my bed, I learned to jump out to mount him in the morning," Aegon cackled, sinking into his pillows. He rambled on with his nephew, more than willing to tell him all sorts of tales about his exploits with Sunfyre. Hands gesturing wildly, widely.

The boy listened with rapt attention, tugging on his mother's hand with excitement, "You didn't tell me we could do that!"

Rhaenyra's laugh was nervous, face pale as she squeezed Joffrey's shoulder, "I think we ought to let your uncle rest now, Joff."

"But we're having fun!" Joffrey pouted and Aegon puckered his lips, mimicking his nephew. His sister was not swayed by either of them.

"You need to rest a bit, Egg," Rhaenyra told him pointedly, and her gaze flicked to Cole, "Perhaps away from the window."

"Not till my wine gets here!" Aegon huffed, flailing slightly. Cole lurched forward again.

Joffrey giggled, hands rising to his mouth, "If you fall, uncle, Sunfyre will catch you, won't he?"

Aegon hummed, head tilting, "He'd certainly try. It would depend on how far away he was." He shrugged, eyes fluttering slowly, "But it would definitely hurt, and I'm already in trouble."

Glancing towards Cole, Aegon leaned away from the window, towards his nephew. Joffrey leaned in as well as Aegon whispered.

"You see the bed?" Joffrey turned his head to follow Aegon's pointing finger. He nodded and Aegon sniffed, lips curling back, "I'm not even allowed to walk to it."

"Wow..." Joffrey gaped at him. His brow furrowed, "Jace is right, you're hurt really bad, aren't you, uncle?"

Face scrunching up, Aegon shook his head. He tossed his hair over his shoulder, "Everyone is just being very dramatic." Joffrey shook his head, mimicking him.

Rising up onto his toes, Joffrey kissed his cheek, "You should rest uncle. Mother says the more you rest when you're sick, the quicker you get better."

"That's what my mother says too," Aegon whined. He flopped sideways onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling as the room went in and out of focus. "I don't want to rest. Rest is boring!"

Cole stepped over him, closing the window. Mean. Aegon's eyes fluttered more, eyelids heavier than they had been a moment ago. Treasonous, the both of them.

"Hey, Joff," Aegon waved him closer. His nephew crouched by his head, leaning over him. Aegon beckoned him even closer. Joffrey lowered his head, hands on the floor beside him. Noses nearly touching.

Aegon pressed a kiss to his forehead. His nephew flushed crimson.

"You still owe me a visit to see Tyraxes," Aegon reminded him as he closed his eyes. Resting them, as they were all so adamant he do.

"As soon as you're better, uncle, I promise!" Joffrey whispered excitedly, hands patting at his face. Warm. Aegon hummed. His nephew gasped, "You could take me on Sunfyre too! Jace would *hate* that!"

He nodded, laughter slurring as he agreed. When Cole's arms slid under him, Aegon barely noticed. By the time he was sinking into the mattress, his breathes had evened out and he was as good as dead to the world.

Sunfyre gave a low snarl outside the window as he circled the tower.

Aegon whimpered, shaking slightly despite all his covers. He hadn't gone this long without curling up with his dragon in years either. Not since his mark had appeared.

Chapter Text

Warmth bloomed over his cheek and Aegon immediately gasped, mouth falling open and eyes fluttering. Fingers grazed over his jawline.

"Jace?" Aegon hummed as his vision came into a hazy focus. His nephew was leaning over him, frowning. Aegon reached up, pressing a finger to the furrow between his brow, "I thought I told you to stop worrying."

"You also told me it wasn't as bad as it looked," Jace huffed and his hand was pinned back to the bed. Aegon whined.

His nephew was kneeling on the edge of his bed, hovering over him. He was too far away. His warmth an absolute tease, burning so close but not touching him. Nothing but the hand on his cheek and the one holding his wrist.

"I came to check on you, Joff said you were in rough shape," Jace flushed crimson and his lips curled back. The hand on his cheek drifted up towards his forehead, carressing softly, "I'm sorry."

"Why do my nephews keeping apologizing? Is Luke next? None of you are responsible for this," Aegon groaned, head lulling back. Jace pulled his hands away entirely, bracing himself on the bed. Aegon whined again, bottom lip puckering in a pout.

Jace swallowed thickly, cheeks burning. He looked warm. Aegon wanted his nephew to hold him again. But he'd slept off most of the wine already so he couldn't quite convince himself to ask. A vague pounding in the back of his head threatening to turn into a proper hangover.

He needed wine. Or Jace to touch him again. His hand on his neck maybe. He liked that idea. Aegon hummed, biting at his lip as he writhed on the bed.

"I... uh, I jostled your leg when I left the other day, remember?" Jace coughed, ducking his head, averting his gaze. Aegon blinked up at him. He tilted his and Jace looked back at him, brow arching, "You don't, do you?" His nose wrinkled, "What *do* you remember?"

"I remember having a very nice dream before Mellos woke me up with a needle in my thigh," Aegon drawled. He shuffled up the bed, huffing to himself as he tried to sit up. It had been an excellent dream really. "The closest I've gotten to a proper fuck since I got hurt."

Clearing his throat, Jace turned his head again, cheeks burning, "Yeah, uh, Joff mentioned you were... lonely." He reached out to help Aegon sit up against his pillows. Smiling as Aegon sunk back into them with a sigh.

"Have you come to keep me company then?" Aegon asked, slipping into Valyrian and poking at Jace's side.

A tingling spread from his soulmark. Softer than the familiar pressure that had always been pushing for him to touch, to grab. Oddly pleasant as it settled over his limbs, his chest.

They were alone. The guard that usually stood sentry by the door when Cole left was noticeably absent. Aegon's heart beat faster, his throat bobbing.

"I, uh, I can, if you want," Jace offered, hand rubbing absently at his neck. He chuckled softly as he took a seat on the bed. Aegon clicked his tongue and his nephew rolled his eyes, repeating himself in Valyrian.

Silence stretched as they stared at each other across the bed. Jace had settled back against the footboard, arms loosely crossed and hands in his laps. Legs stretched out beside Aegon.

His gaze moved slowly over Aegon, surveying him, cataloguing all the little twitches of his hands. The way he shifted to lean slightly on his left hip. Aegon shuffled his blankets around, pulling one up to cuddle against his chest.

Jace's focus was heavy and Aegon's gut twisted. He licked his lips as he stilled, mostly comfortable despite the vague chill throughout his body. Jace met his eyes again, squinting as he furrowed his brow. Aegon did not expect what came out of his mouth.

"You have to take me up on Sunfyre before you take Joff."

Laughter burst from his lips and Aegon threw his head back. He clapped a hand over his mouth, to muffle himself, and Jace scowled.

"I'm serious! He's being insufferable!" Jace snapped, nearly growling as he fisted his hands by his head. "Joff is going around saying he's your favorite nephew." Hands gestured widely, "He even asked my mother if he can have riding leathers like yours so the two of you will match when you take him up!"

"My riding leathers were ripped in the Stepstones, actually," Aegon told him, still laughing, wheezing as he grinned, "There might be enough of the leather left to make him a vest..."

Jace squawked, jaw dropping, "No!" A finger was pointed sharply at his face. Aegon cackled, already planning to write Corlys to have him send the scraps that had survived. He was fairly positive they were still somewhere on the Sea Snake.

"But he'd look adorable!" Aegon puckered his bottom lip. It trembled as he held in his giggling. Jace's nose wrinkled.

"Annoying, he is annoying, not adorable, Egg," Jace blew out a breath, arms crossing over his chest. The giggles burst forth and Aegon ducked his head.

Smirking, Aegon tilted his head to the side, "And you're jealous." Jace huffed, shoulders rolling back. "And here I thought you'd grown from when we were children, Jacaerys." Aegon tutted him and his nephew's cheeks burned.

"I am not jealous," Jace scoffed, turning his head to avoid Aegon's gaze, "And I wasn't then either!" Aegon snorted.

"So... you didn't lock Luke in his bedchamber that one time? When I agreed to take you both up on Sunfyre?" Aegon hummed, arching a brow, "Even though I'd already taken you up before..." Jace pursed his lips. "How curious, the parallels to this moment, my dear nephew."

Arms flew out and Jace scowled, "That was different! You weren't even allowed to fly outside the pit yet!"

Snickering, Aegon grinned, "I wasn't *technically* allowed to fly with passengers at all, Sunfyre wasn't big enough for two yet."

"We were small, it was fine," Jace waved that away, hand making a vaguely shooing motion, "This is different, you'll be in the actual sky!"

"Yes, and you have a dragon that can fly with you in that same sky, Joffrey doesn't," Aegon reasoned and Jace whined, head falling back. "You can come with us, and Luke too, if you don't lock him in his bedchamber again."

"I was six!" Jace reminded him, falling sideways onto the bed. Arms wrapping over his head as he huffed.

Aegon nudged him with his foot, "Yes, and you were almost as cute as your little brother." That earned him a proper glare as Jace turned his head. "Did he carry Tyraxes around like a cat when he was smaller too? Demanding that people pet him?"

Jace's eyes widened, "Do *not* give him ideas! Tyraxes is still fairly small and Joff's already begging to have him sleep in his chambers with him."

Pursing his lips, Aegon scratched at his cheek, "Oh. I might've... mentioned I did that, with Sunfyre." He gestured towards his window, "Lasted about a year, before he got too big."

"You're a horrible influence, uncle," Jace turned his glare on the window, head shaking. Aegon nudged him with his foot again. His nephew looked back at him, lip twitching up. "Not that I mind... when it's me."

A hand wrapped around his ankle and Aegon's eyes fluttered as the heat poured in, rising up his leg. Sometimes he didn't realize how cold he was until he touched something warm and his whole body shuddered at the difference.

"My mother says you're always cold because of your soulmark," Jace said softly. His fingers grazed over his calf. Aegon sighed.

"Yes," Aegon confirmed, leaning back into his pillows. The warmth continued to spread, as if his body was leeching it from Jace's palm, just like it did when his nephew had touched his face. He tilted his head back, neck arching, "I was always warm before, like you, like every Targaryen. Almost burning from the inside out."

His nephew hummed, adding a second hand. Aegon moaned softly. He whimpered as his body throbbed, the heat lifting some of the numbness from his nerves. His leg ached. His shoulder. The bruises were starting to fade, but they ached too.

"I don't really understand why everyone wants to have a soulmate," Jace admitted, frowning softly. Aegon dropped his chin. His nephew was looking pointedly at Aegon's ankle as he traced designs in his skin. "The marks seem like they cause more trouble than anything and..."

"And?" Aegon urged him forward. He was very impressed with himself when his voice didn't crack. His forearm was practically burning. The contact. The connection.

Jace met his eyes, gaze boring into him as Aegon's gut twisted, "What if you love someone already? Before you get your mark?" He swallowed thickly. "My parents weren't soulmates. Does that make their love worth less than what my mother has with Daemon?"

"I don't know," Aegon whispered, hands shaking in his lap, "I..." He bit his lip. He raised a hand to his hair, pushing it back. "Your parents' love was different, I guess."

They'd been happy. He thought. Laenor had been kind, doting at times, distracted at others, but he always cared. Aegon felt that hole in his chest growing. The pit of darkness drawing him down into it. The jealousy.

"They were happy." Aegon cleared his throat and looked away, "And most people don't have soulmarks. So, they don't know who their soulmates are, not for sure, and they do just fine. They marry, fall in love."

"My parents both had them," Jace mumbled and Aegon's eyes snapped to his, "My father's was crossed swords. And my mother's is the dragons, like I told you before, making a heart."

Chances were likely then that Jace would have a mark. That he'd wake up chilled on his sixteenth nameday and find something on his left forearm. A mark.

Aegon's shoulders hunched. It would either be him, or someone else, but Jace would have a soulmate. The maesters had been quite clear about that, the only guarantee of having a soulmark was if both your parents did.

"What if... what if I just ignored it?" Jace pursed his lips, gaze flicking towards Aegon's arm, "Like you." His nostrils flared. "What if I love who I want instead?"

"The king won't ignore it," Aegon croaked and hard eyes snapped to his. He inhaled sharply. A few tears escaped, rolling down his cheeks, slicing down his face like needles plunging into his skin. "And it hurts, when you try."

Jace sat up, pulling his feet underneath him. His hands pulled back and Aegon hissed as the heat slipped away, as all the warmth in his body seemed to boil off.

"Is that..." Jace trailed off as he started to crawl up the bed, over Aegon.

He hovered faintly, rising up so their faces were only inches a part. He grabbed the headboard to steady himself. A glance was spared for the door.

"Is that why you... why you don't talk about it?" Jace whispered, eyes bright and burning as he lowered his voice, "Is that why you go to brothels and had knights keep your bed warm in the Stepstones?"

"How did-" Aegon reared back and he snapped his mouth shut as Jace arched a brow. "Daemon. He... he mentioned the knights to you?"

"My mother told him what you said, about... about never going this long, without a proper fuck," Jace's throat bobbed, but he didn't break eye contact, "I was hidden in the wall. Listening. He told her there were two knights, sleeping in your bed, when he went to your tent."

Nodding slowly, Aegon bit his lip, "It's... it's not because of my soulmate." He pulled his arm up to his chest. The mark throbbing as it ghosted near to Jace, resting between them. He made a conscious effort not to shrug. "I just... I like when people touch me. It makes it easier. Helps me cope with the cold."

A hand settled over his cheek and Aegon gasped, just as he had earlier. Jace smirked, "Like this?" Aegon nodded as the hand drifted lower, over his neck, the warmth blooming out from his fingertips.

"None of them are as warm as you," Aegon slurred, eyes closing. He moaned as a second hand cupped his face. One at his neck, one at his cheek, Aegon was panting.

"Even Joffrey?" Jace hummed, head dropping closer. Aegon laughed. He nodded slowly as lips ghosted over his. A warm breath on his cheek, "I'm your favorite right?"

Aegon whined, "It's.... it's not a competition, Jacaerys." His nephew scoffed. He pulled back and Aegon whimpered. "Yes, yes, you're my favorite." The lips pressed softly against his forehead then and one of the hands trailed down his chest.

"Good," Jace breathed out and Aegon's arm twitched as his nephew's hand pulled back before it touched his mark.

Eyes fluttering open, Aegon stared up at his nephew. His gaze fell to his lips. Jace's tongue darted out.

A loud clatter echoed from outside, and then there were voices. Cole was snapping at someone. Jace scrambled off him, carefully. He plopped back against the footboard, chest heaving.

Aegon swallowed thickly, mind spinning. He rubbed faintly at his neck and took a deep breath. The door slammed open and Cole stalked in, scowling.

"Wow," Aegon pursed his lips, failing to hide his giggles. He made a show of applauding, "Very scary, Ser Criston. Did you make the guard cry?" Jace snickered, head ducking low.

"He is meant to remain in your room," Cole huffed, shoulders rolling. His eyes narrowed on Jace.

His nephew tilted his head back, "What? We wanted to speak privately. I made sure Egg didn't try to walk." He gestured towards him with a flourish and Aegon flung his arms out.

"Yes, I am here, stuck in this bed. I haven't even complained about it yet since I woke up, aren't you proud?" Aegon grinned and this time Jace was the one applauding. Cole rolled his eyes.

"You ought to have dinner, since you're awake," Cole ignored them both and turned back to the hall, calling for a servant. He looked back at Jace, lips pursing, "Will you be staying, your grace?"

"Uh, no, I... I should get back," Jace stood then and Aegon frowned. His nephew glanced at him, smiling softly, "I'll come visit tomorrow, if you want?"

With a short nod, Aegon chuckled, "You can bring my favorite nephew with you." Jace's face scrunched up, eyes narrowing. Aegon threw his head back, cackling.

Cole gave him an odd look as Jace stomped off. His eyes fluttered when he asked for paper to write a letter. Or two.

"Oh! And my wine! Don't let them forget my wine with dinner!"

Chapter Text

The healer clicked her tongue as she assessed his injuries. He paused, goblet to his lips, as she narrowed her eyes on him.

"What?" Aegon flushed, lowering the wine. He gestured out, "I haven't walked at all, I've been very good!" Cole snorted, where he stood against the wall, and Aegon glowered at him, "I have!"

"For you, your grace, yes, you've been... almost accommodating," Cole drawled, glancing towards the healer. She hummed.

Without warning, she snatched his cup and Aegon squawked. He lunged for it and Cole was immediately beside the bed, pushing him softly back into his pillows.

"The wildfire has abated, but you are healing slower than I would expect," she swirled the wine in his goblet, an eyebrow arching, "You are often cold."

"And?" Aegon huffed, arms crossing. She tapped her fingers against his cup.

The healer held the cup out to Cole, gaze still focused on Aegon, "Have you not noticed that your body grows even colder when you drink?"

"No!" Aegon snapped, reaching for his wine again, "In fact, it's the only thing keeping me from noticing how cold I am."

He whined as Cole set the goblet on the far table. The kingsguard was frowning at him. "Perhaps you should listen, my prince. You've spent most of your time recently... incapacitated."

Aegon groaned, hands scrubbing at his face, "I can't go see Sunfyre, I can't go to a brothel, you can't expect me to go without wine too!"

"If you drink less, you'll heal faster," the healer told him sharply. Aegon puckered his lips.

"How much less?" Aegon asked, head tilting. She inhaled slowly. With a huff, she reached for a paper on her table of supplies. It was handed directly to Cole.

"No more than two cups a day, ideally." Aegon immediately snorted at her words. Her gaze hardened and he shrunk down. "I have written instructions for your mother."

Whimpering, Aegon shut his eyes, "You could at least let me enjoy my last cup before ordering my suffering." She rolled her eyes.

She tapped lightly at his leg as Cole slipped out of the room, "If you will agree to certain rules, I can provide you with an... outlet, for your energy." He cracked an eye open. "I will bring an assistant with me tomorrow. Behave, and I will send her to change your dressings every evening. Understand?"

"Yes," Aegon breathed out, throat bobbing. He glanced at the door, "What about..." Ducking his head, Aegon whispered, "When could I go back to Mysaria's?"

"That depends on how quickly this heals," she looked pointedly down at his thigh. The wound had a thin layer of a pinkish-red something over it now. Not quite a scab. She'd seemed pleased when it started to appear.

Leaning back into his pillows, Aegon sighed, "Okay. I'll be good." She smiled. Somewhat. Either way, he ended up with one of her salves spread across his thigh and another on his shoulder.

When Cole returned, the pitcher of wine on his table was collected by a servant, as was his half full goblet. Aegon whined.

The whore who accompanied the healer the next day was familiar at least. One of the women who'd serviced him when he first started going to Mysaria's. She had a flirty smile and dark hair.

He was granted a cup of wine after each of the healer's visits and the whore got him off before he went to bed each night. Her body was always warm when she wrapped herself around him, Aegon watched her warm up by the fire each time before she mounted him.

Sleeping grew much easier after that, even if the sex was far more complicated than he would like. She couldn't put any weight on his thigh and he wasn't allowed to raise his hips.

But Aegon kept to the stupid rules. For the fucking and the wine. One of which was significantly harder than the other. He was going slowly insane, and sleeping constantly, but he kept to the rules. Enough to make Aemond suspicious even, when he visited each morning before the healer came.

The only one who knew what truly happened during the evening visits was the guard. After Cole's dressing down when Jace first visited, he refused to leave the room. Aegon discovered he didn't mind the audience. Sometimes he found himself watching the guard's face more than the whore as she bounced on his lap. Which was how Aegon knew the guard was enjoying it as much as he was.

Still, he'd prefer to go to Mysaria's. Aegon couldn't risk having a man come to him in the evenings, not in the Red Keep. And he still couldn't visit Sunfyre.

"So?" Aegon arched a brow as the healer inspected his thigh again, poking and proding at the shrinking hole and the dark red mark appearing in its place. She chuckled. He'd been good for weeks. The wine was getting sparser and sparser. If he didn't get to see Sunfyre soon, he was going to rip his hair out.

"You've done very well, you can start walking short distances, with support," the healer hummed, a finger appeared in his face, "No stairs, no running, and no weight directly on the wound."

Aegon cheered, tossing his head back, "Can I go flying, please?" She snorted. "I suppose that's worse than stairs..." She nodded.

With a click of her tongue, she inclined her head towards Cole, "If you can suffer being carried down the stairs, I see no reason why you couldn't make the trip to the Dragon Pit in a cart."

"The entirety of the Red Keep will thank you for that, I'm sure," Cole drawled, looking pointedly out the window where Sunfyre was, once again, circling.

Aegon was not the only one getting antsy.

"You'll need to be careful still," the healer said as she began to apply her salves. "Nothing too physical." Her gaze was pointed. He rolled his eyes. She huffed, "And when I say short distances, I mean short distances, boy. If you undo all my hard work I will be very cross."

Grinning, Aegon let his head lull to the side, "Anything to keep me out of this room!"

He never appreciated a walk to a window more in his life. Sunfyre's low rumble as he sighed shook the glass. Once the healer was gone, Aegon looked over his shoulder at Cole, eyes wide.

"I shall have a servant prepare a cart," Cole sighed, but his lips twitched up. "Ser Arryk will need to accompany you."

"That's fine!" Aegon did his level best not to complain as Cole carried him down the stairs. He did. And then he cursed profusely and sat on the floor for ten minutes while he waited for his thigh to stop throbbing.

On the positive side of things, the servants had plenty of time to prepare the cart and it was waiting when Aegon finally got to the courtyard. It was all worth it too, the moment he got to the Dragon Pit.

Sunfyre shrieked with joy, wings fluttering as he pranced around Aegon. He nuzzled lightly at Aegon's chest, nostrils flaring. His dragon cooed at him and Aegon sunk into his warmth without pause.

"Prince Aegon!" Ser Arryk paled as Aegon let Sunfyre pick him up, laying across the top of his dragon's maw. His leg was well supported, thigh resting against golden scales.

Waving a hand vaguely towards the knight, Aegon laughed, "Sunfyre can lift me better than you can, shush!"

His dragon's chest rumbled. Aegon smiled. He breathed lighter, just knowing Sunfyre was there, his scales rough against Aegon's cheek.

"I missed you," Aegon whispered to the beast. More than the wine and the brothel at that. He graze a hand over Sunfyre's ear as his dragon raised his head up, bringing him into the air. Sunfyre mewled and Aegon giggled.

A squeal of delight brought his head up and Aegon blinked upon realizing he had a full audience walking out of the lairs. Rhaenyra and her whole brood it seemed. Joffrey was the one who squealed. Rhaenyra was frowning at him.

"Down," Aegon patted at Sunfyre's head and his dragon lowered his head with a low whine. He used Sunfyre for support as he dropped himself back on to the ground.

"Did you teach him to do that?!" Joffrey was vibrating with excitement as he ran up to him, eyes wide and smile bright, "Have you ever gone flying like that?"

Aegon ruffled his hair, "No, to both." He kept one hand on Sunfyre, arm slung over his maw, as he stood in the center of the Dragon Pit.

"Better question," Jace drawled, eyes narrowing on him, "Should you be doing that right now?"

"I have permission to be carried and to ride in a cart," Aegon pointed out, smirking smugly as his nephew rolled his eyes.

Baela snorted, eyebrow arching, "Those aren't the same as letting your dragon pick you up with his head."

With a huff, Aegon pressed a kiss to Sunfyre's maw as the dragon's nostrils flared, "Ignore her, my sweet, you're significantly more comfortable and graceful than a knight or a cart." Baela laughed and it circled through her siblings.

Joffrey giggled, rocking backwards on his heels, "Can he pick me up?" Aegon glanced towards Rhaenyra. Her eyes fluttered, head shaking.

"Afraid he only likes to carry me," Aegon leaned over to tell him. Joffrey frowned, bottom lip puckering out till Aegon kissed his forehead, "Don't worry, soon I'll being flying again." Joffrey beamed.

"Do you want to meet Tyraxes now then?" Joffrey asked, smiling brightly. Aegon glanced at Sunfyre this time. He bared his teeth, growling. Joffrey took a half step back.

Aegon flicked Sunfyre's nose, "Just for that, I should make you carry me to his lair." Sunfyre huffed and Joffrey pressed his hands to his lips as he giggled again.

"Jace, why don't you go help your brother with his dragon?" Rhaenyra cleared her throat. She arched a brow as Jace groaned. He dutifully took Joffrey's hand and led his brother back towards the lairs.

Sunfyre laid down right there in the center of the pit with a plop. Aegon stumbled. He narrowed his eyes on the golden beast before walking slowly around to lay against his side. His legs out in front of him, Aegon coaxed Sunfyre into coiling closer, his head nearly in Aegon's lap as he pet at the dragon's scales.

"You are aware Sunfyre is a dragon... not a cat?" Baela asked, eyebrow quirked up. Beside her, Luke snorted. Aegon grinned as his nephew muttered.

"Where do you think Jace learned it from?" Luke's words had Baela and Rhaena looking pointedly at Rhaenyra.

"Oi! No comparing Sunfyre to Syrax, he doesn't like that," Aegon snapped a finger, wagging it accusingly at them as his eyes narrowing on all four of them, "He hunts for his own food, thank you very much."

Rhaenyra dropped her chin, eyebrows arching, "I thought we weren't comparing?" Sunfyre tittered and Aegon shoved vaguely at his head.

A low shriek announced the arrival of a young dragon. Only slightly smaller than a pony, Tyraxes' silver scales glittered in the sunlight, a faint pinkish-hue to the membrane of his wings and parts of his maw softened his appearance. Joffrey was leading him over, a hand pressed to Tyraxes' maw as he bit his lip. Jace followed behind them.

"Be nice," Aegon placed a hand on Sunfyre's head as Joffrey came closer. His little nephew stumbled over the Valyrian word for wait as they arrived. He glanced up at Jace then, eyes wide.

Sunfyre helped him to his feet, Aegon leaning on his maw as Jace whispered instructions to Joffrey. Given the boy finished half of the steps for him, Aegon was fairly confident Joffrey already knew what to do, but had never actually introduced his dragon to someone before. He waited till his nephew turned around though, before offering his hand.

"Calm," Joffrey told the trilling dragon, brow furrowing. Aegon smiled as Joffrey placed his hand on silver scales. A quick nod from Jace and the child preened, head falling back to look up at Aegon, "This is Tyraxes."

"He's beautiful," Aegon told him, ducking his head to kiss the top of Joffrey's as their hands moved over the dragon's maw. Behind him, Sunfyre chuffed. "Do you want to introduce him to Sunfyre?"

Eyes widened and Joffrey spoke in a hushed whisper, "I don't know how to do that." Aegon glanced briefly at Rhaenyra. She was watching them still, smiling brightly as she held Luke and Rhaena to her sides.

"I'll show you," Aegon crouched and wrapped an arm around Joffrey. "We're gonna keep both our hands on Tyraxes okay?"

Joffrey nodded and Aegon shuffled to the side, pulling his nephew with him till Tyraxes had a clear view of Sunfyre. Their palms remained on the silver dragon's head. Aegon took Joffrey's other hand in his and beckoned to Sunfyre.

The golden dragon shifted closer. His maw alone roughly twice the size of Tyraxes' whole body. Perhaps more even. The younger dragon whined, a low rumble in his throat.

"Calm," Aegon inclined his head towards Tyraxes and Joffrey parroted the word. His lips trembling as Sunfyre pressed closer. Their palms pressed to golden scales and Joffrey startled.

Maw bumping lightly at the younger dragon, Sunfyre let out a breath, nostrils flaring. Joffrey inhaled sharply as the warm air hit his face. Tyraxes tittered.

"What do we think, Sun? He's a cute one isn't he?" Aegon hummed and his dragon nudged at Tyraxes again. The younger dragon's wings fluttered. "Ah, looks like they like each other."

"Wow..." Joffrey sunk back into Aegon's chest as their hands dropped. Tyraxes nuzzled at Sunfyre, working his way underneath the larger dragon and down his neck till he was nesting against his side.

Jace chuckled a few yards away, arms crossing as he rocked backwards on his heels, "That went much better than when Sunfyre met Vermax."

His little nephew preened, tossing his head back against Aegon's shoulder as he wiggled in his arms, "That's cause Vermax is grumpy, like you!" Aegon snorted, hiding his face in Joffrey's shoulder as Jace glared at them both.

"Sunfyre's not much older than Vermax," Aegon cleared his throat, smiling at Jace as he hooked his chin over Joffrey's shoulder, "It's different."

Vermax had certainly never tried to cuddle up with Sunfyre like a hatchling with a sire. Aegon turned his head to watch his dragon coo at Tyraxes. He wrapped an arm around Joffrey as he made to move closer.

"Nope, gotta let Sun play with him first," Aegon told him and Joffrey furrowed his brow. He chuckled, "Tyraxes is acting like a hatchling, so Sunfyre will treat him like one. If you get too close, he'll get defensive."

"Vermax doesn't do that," Joffrey puckered his lips, "Or Syrax. Or even Caraxes." Aegon shrugged, head tilting up as Jace approached them. He offered him a hand.

With one arm still hooked around Joffrey, Aegon dragging himself back up with Jace's help. His little nephew shrieked as his feet left the ground.

Tyraxes glanced their way, stilling for a moment. Once he saw Joffrey wrap his arms around Aegon's neck he went right back to coiling himself atop Sunfyre's neck.

"It's a bit like a game, Sunfyre's never had a clutch, so he's the perfect dragon to play it with." Rhaenyra explained as she circled around the two dragons.

Joffrey was settled on his hip and Rhaenyra held her arms out. Her son pouted, clinging tighter to Aegon. She laughed and dropped her arms. Aegon leaned more into Jace to keep the weight off his leg. An arm snaked around his waist, hand settling on his hip beside Joffrey.

"Vermax hasn't had a clutch either," Joffrey tilted his head, lips puckering.

Bringing a hand up to rub circles over Joffrey's back, Rhaenyra whispered, "Vermax is more aggressive than Sunfyre."

Jace huffed, eyes rolling. She laughed and Luke nudged Jace's arm. "Could you tell the difference, if Vermax was being regular aggressive or protective aggressive?" Luke drawled, smirking as Jace narrowed his eyes on him.

"Maybe Vermax is just protective all the time," Jace said and Baela scoffed. Rhaena pursed her lips to hide a smile.

"Yeah, Vermax is just very protective, and Vhagar is just a little testy in the morning," Aegon clicked his tongue. The hand at his hip squeezed and his soulmark pulsed.

Warmth spread through his body, not just from Jace and Joffrey, but from him. His chest suddenly tingly as the cold was pushed away.

His throat bobbed as Rhaenyra paused. Her hand was only a few inches from his arm. She blinked and Aegon turned his head away when she looked at him.

Sunfyre gave a shriek and Tyraxes whined, plopping back onto all fours. Aegon set Joffrey down as his dragon approached them. Sunfyre's head bobbed, nostrils flaring, and Aegon slipped away from his sister's family to return to his dragon.

"Tyraxes is not the only one who likes to cuddle with Sunfyre," Aegon called over his shoulder as he flung himself over Sunfyre's back, face pressed to golden scales. His nephews all laughed.

Rhaenyra was squinting at him. Her head tilted, lips parted slightly. Joffrey tugged on her sleeve, "Can Tyraxes come back to the Red Keep?" His bottom lip trembled, "Please?!"

She pinched at the bridge of her nose and Aegon laughed, "You can always do what I do, Joff." Rhaenyra's head snapped his way as Aegon's eyes closed, "Sometimes, I just sleep in the Dragon Pit."

Aegon raised an arm, waving vaguely as Sunfyre started for his lair. He remained sprawled across his back. His kingsguard shouted his name, running after him, but Sunfyre growled.

"Yes, Joff, you can bring Tyraxes to the Red Keep, just this once," Rhaenyra sighed and Joffrey cheered. Aegon smirked.

The chill descended on him again eventually, but Sunfyre's warmth kept it at bay for a while longer. Long enough for him to pretend his mark wasn't throbbing at being ripped away from Jace again. He pretend the ache in his chest was from the bruises that had already healed too.

He'd deal with it all later. Maybe. Aegon clung to Sunfyre. For now, he just wanted to be with his dragon.

Chapter Text

Waking upon Sunfyre usually left him stiff. Aegon slept deeper, moved less. His limbs tingled as he opened his eyes, fingers and toes a bit numb as they hung down over Sunfyre's back.

At the entrance to his dragon's lair, Ser Arryk stood sentry, jaw clenched. His head turned as Aegon groaned.

Pushing up onto his arms, Aegon blinked slowly, "How long have I been asleep?"

"A long while, your grace," Ser Arryk chuckled softly. He smiled, "My brother relieved me, and than I him, while you slept."

That certainly explained why his throat was so dry. Aegon wrinkled his nose and sat up. His head felt a bit heavy as he brushed a hand through his hair.

"You've had a number of visitors, your grace, but the Princess Rhaenyra ordered you not be disturbed by anyone save the queen or that healer of yours," Ser Arryk informed him, head tilting as a flash of green scales passed the entrance.

"Is his rider with him?" Aegon asked, shifting atop Sunfyre as he prepared to slid down his side. His dragon's tail whipped up and Aegon held to it as he lowered himself to the ground.

His leg took weight just fine, throbbing only a bit. Aegon leaned back against Sunfyre regardless.

"No, Prince Daemon dragged him off hours ago. Vermax has been a bit... grumbly, since then," Ser Arryk side eyed the green beast as he passed by again.

"Well, hopefully, he's not so grumbly I'll need Sunfyre to distract him when we leave," Aegon stretched his arms above his head. He hissed as his shoulder twinged, but the crackling of his back was louder.

Ser Arryk approached as he said goodbye to Sunfyre, peppering his maw with kisses as his dragon whined. He whispered a promise against golden scales to return.

He hadn't slept that well since... perhaps since he slept on Jace, head pillowed on his chest. But he'd woken in pain, and alone, so Aegon wasn't going to count that. It was the Stepstones, before that, sleeping on Sunfyre as they basked in the sun on his hill.

"Shall I have a cart summoned, to return to the Red Keep?" Ser Arryk asked as Aegon leaned on him next. He kept a hold on the knight's shoulder as they walked towards the entrance.

"No," Aegon shook his head, grinning at him as they paused in the corridor outside, "We're not going home yet."

Vermax's lips curled back as he surveyed him. The green dragon sniffed at Aegon briefly before turning around. He stomped off with a huff and a quiet shriek. His tail swung about and Aegon chuckled to himself.

"See, even Vermax thinks you'll be enough help to get me where I'm going," Aegon teased. His eyes flickered over the man's shiny armor and white cloak. He groaned, "You shall draw a bit more attention than I like, even at the side door though."

A kingsguard was not inconspicuous, at all, but Aegon did not have the energy to ditch him. Not successfully anyway.

It wasn't as if everyone in the city didn't already know which brothel he preferred. He doubted Daemon even knew how to be subtle, and his uncle had been the one to collect the healer from Mysaria's according to his mother.

The Street of Silk was fairly quiet though, so early. The sun was still inching at the horizon and the swirling clouds promised snow any minute. Aegon drew his hood up, as did Ser Arryk.

"My lord," Mysaria inclined her head when he arrived. The shadow of a smile twitched at her lips, "I thought we might see you today." Aegon dropped his hood back as she gestured towards the hallway, "Your room has been prepared."

"Just put him on my tab," Aegon waved vaguely back at his kingsguard when Mysaria's gaze flicked towards Ser Arryk. The man coughed, sputtering out nonsense Aegon was already ignoring.

Mysaria would deal with him. She knew what he wanted. What he always wanted. A man with dark hair was waiting on the bed for him when he entered his room, along with a cylindrical pillow that he rested his hips on as the whore fucked him.

Aegon muffled himself in another pillow. Eyes closing, he let himself imagine it was Jace holding his hips, spreading him open. His nephew's eyes from weeks before flashed in his mind. Jace stradling his lap as he demanded to be Aegon's favorite. An echo of that dream he'd had almost, where his nephew's eyes had been burning with desire, for him.

Part of him thought it might've been real. Another part was convinced his nephew's visit to his chambers after he fled Rhaenyra's apartments had been some feverish hallucination. His mind so desperate for him, for Jace to... to love him.

Teeth sinking into his pillow, Aegon moaned his name as the whore breached him. He hadn't had a cock in him in over a month and Aegon arched up, pushing back immediately. A hand pressed at his back.

"Careful, my lord, your leg," a breathy voice whispered at his ear. Aegon trembled, nodding mutely as the man began to move again, grip firm on his hips to hold him still.

Lips pressed to his neck, a hand fisted in his hair. Aegon lost himself in the sensations. His mark was like ice, the cold prickling and vaguely painful. He slid his arm beneath his pillow and buried his face in the soft fabric.

Dark eyes staring down at him, a smirk twitching at plump lips. Those same lips, ghosting over his, teasing him. Pressing to his cheek.

He wanted it to be real, all of it. He wanted it so bad. Aegon sobbed as he climaxed, body shaking. The whore wrapped himself around Aegon, kissing the top of his head.

"You're alright, my lord," another kiss was pressed to his neck, "Just breathe, hmm?"

Aegon took several gasping breaths as warm hands grazed down his back. They weren't the hands he wanted, weren't as warm as he needed.

But they'd do.

They were gentle and Aegon let them turn him over, clean him up. He stared up at the ceiling as the whore washed him properly. All but his hair.

"Much to my surprise, you've not ripped your thigh back open," the healer visited him briefly. Aegon cringed as her fingers ran over the twisted flesh of his shoulder.

The cut had healed. She'd said as much before. The skin was still sensitive. A click of her tongue and the whore was rubbing a salve into his flesh.

His routine was simple after that. A near flip to the one he'd adopted before the Stepstones. Nights he spent with Sunfyre, mornings at the brothel. Ser Arryk even wore a less obvious cloak to escort him.

Afternoons he spent with his brother. Propped up on the same half wall, Aegon watched Cole's lessons drag on before stealing Aemond away to work with Vhagar. Sometimes, Joffrey would appear and perch himself in Aegon's lap, asking questions and making sly comments about how grumpy Jace was getting.

It was easy. Simple. His shoulder was better. The dragonkeeper said Vhagar was calmer. He could walk unassisted. Really, he couldn't ask for more. Shouldn't.

That had never stopped him before.

"No, you cannot go flying yet," the healer narrowed her gaze on him. He puckered his lips, bottom lip trembling as he widened his eyes. "You will not fly until your leg is fully healed. You may begin training again, so long as you do not over exert yourself."

"I can start swinging sharp objects around and jumping about, but I can't go for a ride on Sunfyre?" Aegon wrinkled his nose, scowling at her. She chuckled.

"Jumping would be over exerting yourself," she drawled as Aegon stood. He dressed as she collected her supplies. "The exercise will help you to build your muscles back up. Once I am certain your leg is strong enough for the... antics, of you and your dragon, you may fly."

Pulling his shirt on, Aegon frowned, "Sunfyre is growing despondent." She leveled her gaze on him. He raised his chin, "Practically inconsolable."

She hummed, head shaking, "Tell him it will be only a few weeks more, perhaps sooner, if is rider is good." Aegon whined, but the healer merely laughed at him and provided Ser Arryk with a note for the queen on her way out.

"Still no flying, your- my lord?" Ser Arryk cleared his throat as he entered the room. Aegon clasped his cloak and nodded sharply.

"I can train though," Aegon sighed, head falling back. He frowned, "Aemond will be far too happy about this."

Aegon arrived early to his usual observational post. He blinked as he found the training yard much less empty than he expected.

With a familiar dirk in hand, Joffrey was looking intently at his grip as Jace moved the boy's fingers. "Okay, now right foot slightly forward," Jace patted at Joffrey's leg and he stepped. It was a bit wide, but not a bad mimic of the stance Luke was holding directly in front of his younger brother.

It was a common defensive stance. Aegon was well familiar with it, given it was the one most of the Velaryon knights had preferred. Better for keeping your feet on a boat, he'd been told.

"Are you starting lessons now?" Aegon asked as he tossed his cloak over one of the fences around the yard. He arched a brow as he circled his nephews.

"Grandfather's coming," Joffrey bobbed his head, gaze intent on Luke as Jace corrected his stance. Aegon paused, head rising towards the battlements where the king usually sat to observe.

Jace chuckled, head shaking when Aegon glanced back, "Lord Corlys. He's departed from the Stepstones. On his way back to Driftmark, he's stopping here."

"I want him to like me," Joffrey fidgeted, lip shaking as he furrowed his brow. He bit at it.

"He'll like you," Jace smiled, pressing a kiss to his brother's cheek. Joffrey frowned. He glanced towards Aegon, eyes trembling.

Aegon swallowed thickly. He was saved from answering that look by the arrival of Cole, who was sporting a far too pleased expression for Aegon's liking.

"Ah, my prince, good," Cole clapped his shoulder, grinning widely, "The queen tells me you're to assist me, as you get back into fighting shape."

"You're going to train with us?" Aemond asked, perking up as he entered the yard with Baela. Aegon pursed his lips.

They were all looking at him then. His nephews, his brother, even Baela. She had a soft smile twitching at her lips as she looked from him to Aemond.

"Eventually," Aegon nodded, throat bobbing. He flashed Aemond a quick smile, "Might be a bit before I can face any of you in the ring, but..." He inclined his head towards Joffrey, winking at him, "Perhaps my favorite nephew can help me prepare."

Joffrey squealed, immediately jumping up and down, tugging on Jace's arms, "See! I told you! I told you! I'm his favorite!"

Cole had no choice, in the face of Joffrey's exuberance, but to let him work with the boy while he gathered the rest for their usual lesson. Jace glared at him, but Aegon merely grinned back. Luke snickered until his brother shoved him forward, directly in to Aemond's back.

"Okay, show me your starting stance," Aegon nudged Joffrey forward, correcting his footwork and running him through the most basic drills. He was a far better student than Aegon had been at his age. Focused. Determined.

"How long does it take to get good at this?" Joffrey huffed, rolling his shoulders back as he whined. Aegon chuckled, head shaking as he plopped down into the dirt.

He shrugged, head lulling to the side, "I don't know. You'll have to tell me when you get good." He leaned forward, flicking Joffrey's forehead, "Good is overrated anyway."

Brow furrowing, Joffrey tilted his head, shoulders sagging, "But that's the whole point. If I'm good, then grandfather will like me."

"Lord Corlys does not care if you're good a swordfighting," Aegon shook his head. He tugged Joffrey closer, hands squeezing at his arms, "He has lots of knights who will fight and die for him already." Joffrey frowned. Aegon shook him, ducking his head to smile up at Joffrey, clipping his chin with one finger, "But he only has three grandsons."

"He's a knight though, isn't he? Like my father?" Joffrey puckered his lips, he hid his eyes in the shadow of his hair, head tilted down again as he whispered, "I want to be like him, like Ser Laenor, so I have to be good at this."

Aegon hummed, he let his head fall on Joffrey's shoulder. His nephew squeezed the handle of the small sword in his hand. "I'm sure you'll be an excellent knight, Joff, if that's what you want," Aegon told him, raising his hand to ruffle Joffrey's curls, "You're working hard, I'm told that's a rather important part of it."

A vague memory echoed in his head, standing in this very training yard with Joffrey's sword. Laenor had stood in front of him, feet light, beckoning him forward. Smiling. But his gaze was hard, focused. Like Joffrey's.

"The most important rule though, which you must always remember," Aegon lifted his head, throat bobbing as he repeated Laenor's words back to the man's son, "Is that a fight, a real fight, ends in blood." He cupped Joffrey's face, forcing eye contact, "Just make sure it isn't yours." Joffrey blinked. He nodded slowly.

With a smile, Aegon released his head and hopped back onto his feet, rising with a groan. The training sword he held in his hands was lighter than he was use to. Aegon knocked it lightly against Joffrey's blunted blade.

"Alright, come on, let's try a bout shall we?" Aegon grinned as Joffrey raised the dirk. He blocked the first few attacks with ease, and then he let the next one through. Joffrey giggled as Aegon crumbled to the ground in a dramatic heap, his best rendition of a death rattle on his lips.

"Will you train with me tomorrow too, uncle?" Joffrey asked, chest heaving as he crawled over Aegon to pat at his cheek. Cole was dismissing their brothers and Baela.

Aegon kept his eyes firmly shut, whispering, "Dead men don't train nephew..." He cracked one eye open, "You have to bring me back to life first." Joffrey giggled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

With an exaggerated gasp, Aegon swooped Joffrey into his arms and sat up. His fingers tickled at Joffrey's side as his nephew writhed, shoving at his chest, "Uncle!"

"Hey, bringing someone back to life comes with a price, Joff," Aegon shrugged, cackling, "I don't make the rules!"

His fingers stilled and Joffrey went limp, lying across his lap with his head quirked to the side, "Will you though?" Joffrey bit at his lip, "Tomorrow?"

Nodding sharply, Aegon ruffled his hair, "Absolutely. According to my healer, this will help me get stronger, and then..." He lifted Joffrey up, falling back as he raised Joffrey into the air. His nephew spread his arms out like wings and Aegon laughed, "We can go flying!"

Jace and Luke were looking at him funny when he put Joffrey down. He ran to them, tugging at Jace's hand as he told them both everything he'd done. The stances, the drills. Jace nodded along, smiling, but his eyes flicked towards Aegon, squinting. Luke was openly staring as Aemond approached him.

"To Vhagar I assume?" Aemond asked and Aegon pursed his lips, nodding vaguely as his skin crawled beneath his nephews' scrutiny.

Face flushing, Luke jumped when Aemond narrowed his eyes on their nephew. He turned his head as Joffrey waved goodbye. Aegon waved back.

The four of them headed off, Baela hanging off Luke's shoulder as she ducked her head close to talk with him. Jace's brows were knitted together and he gave Aegon one last look before they disappeared through an archway.

"Yeah," Aegon grabbed Aemond's wrist and leveraged himself up. His brother steadied him as he swayed. He huffed, eyes fluttered as his leg twinged. Planting his feet, he kicked at the point of the sword still in Aemond's hand, "Bring that with you, we'll go a few rounds."

"Really?" Aemond's eyebrows shot up and Aegon chuckled. He picked his sword up from where it was leaning against the half wall by his cloak.

Strapping it back on, he reached for the practice sword he'd used with Joffrey. Aegon tossed it to his brother, "Sunfyre is growing very impatient with me, so yes."

Chapter Text

"For once, you are actually using the room the king provided for you, I see," Otto entered his room without knocking and Aegon froze instinctively.

He was dressed, for once. His doublet lay abandoned on his bed, but he had his shirt and trousers on. A win, truly, considering.

"I was essentially confined to this room, for several weeks, quite recently," Aegon cleared his throat and continued sipping at the goblet in his hand. Water, not wine. Though he dearly wished otherwise.

There would be wine at dinner. His mother would be distracted. The king was holding a feast to celebrate Aegon's official return to court. And he could definitely sneak wine at that.

"Did you want something?" Aegon asked, arching a brow as he crossed to his bed, reaching for his doublet. His grandfather stood a few steps inside. Hands clasped behind his back. Still. Quiet.

"This night is an opportunity, Aegon," Otto told him, chin lowering and brows rising. Aegon swallowed. "Your last appearance before the court was..."

Dramatic. Weak. Bad. The word catastrophe had been used, to describe him passing out in his mother's arms after arriving back from the Stepstones.

"Memorable," Otto decided, rocking forward slightly, "And it is important that you leave a more favorable impression tonight." His gaze hardened, eyes widening as he emphasized, "A strong impression, Aegon."

"I'll do my best," Aegon nodded, shrugging his doublet on.

It was black, golden dragons embroidered at the collar and down the front. The clasps matched, gave the illusion of flames coming from the dragons' mouths.

His mother had leaned in to his preferred color scheme when having clothes made for him. All of the new doublets that had appeared in his wardrobe referenced Sunfyre in some manner. Golden dragons on plain black fabric, all but one. The one, fairly plain, black doublet had embossed dragons instead.

He would appreciate it, if he didn't know that they'd been commissioned with the expectation he would wear them to court. Regularly. Daily, even.

"Your mother has discussed with you, I'm sure, the expectations, going forward," Otto arched an eyebrow as he took another step closer.

Aegon bit his lip as he did up the clasps of his doublet. His grandfather sighed and Aegon glanced up at him, "Attending court, at least twice a week, yes?"

"At least," Otto pursed his lips and Aegon's throat bobbed beneath his fingers as he closed the collar. "Your presence must be felt at court. Your influence."

"I have no influence," Aegon snorted and crossed back to his dresser. He drank from his goblet, grimacing at the plain taste. Even a sweet wine. He'd take a sweet wine. A weak one.

A hand gripped his arm and Otto turned him, forcing Aegon to look into his eyes. He trembled slightly in the tight hold.

"This is not a game, Aegon, your life may very well depend on the impression you make this evening," Otto squeezed his arm, his head tilting, "And not just your life." He glanced pointedly at the goblet, "Stick to water."

Ducking his head, Aegon nodded, "I understand." The hand released him. Aegon shook his arm out, shoulders rolling back before he reached for his jewelry. Signet ring, necklace. All gold.

His door snapped shut as his grandfather left. As abruptly as he'd come. Aegon pushed a hand through his hair as he glanced in the mirror. He blew out a breath.

"Don't fuck this up," Aegon mumbled to himself. He was pale, the red that had lingered beneath his cheeks a few years past was absent, but so were the dark circles he usually sported.

For all the hand's disapproval and his mother's worry, Aegon simply slept better anywhere but the Red Keep. A fact which might amuse him, if he weren't aware of why.

He closed his eyes. Hand gripping at his forearm, he traced the edges of his mark with his thumb through his clothes. It was cold, not overly painful as it tingled beneath his touch.

Jace would be at the feast. Their siblings. All but Joffrey. He'd be stuck in the nursery with Rhaenyra's youngest. That was for the best. Joffrey wouldn't understand why they didn't all sit together.

Court wasn't like the training yard. It wasn't family dinner. The lightness, the... familiarity, it grew tense, with the eyes of all the courtiers on them. The judging eyes of the lords and ladies who served the king, the realm. Aegon's recovery meant there'd been time for even more of them to gather.

His mother's cousin had come, Lord Ormund. Aegon was meant to greet him first after the king, since Daeron was his ward. Then there were the various lord paramounts. Baratheon, Tyrell, Tully. The Lannisters had come. Lord Jason had brought two of his daughters with him. As had Lord Borros.

Only the Arryns were absent from the Great Houses. Even the young lord Stark was in attendance. Aegon had seen him training in the yard earlier, with Jace and Baela.

Lord Cregan was only a year younger than Aegon. His uncle was his regent still, despite him being seventeen. Comparison would be made, Aegon knew. And worse yet, his grandfather had mentioned him to Helaena.

An honorable man. Noble. The Starks only made one sort after all.

His mother had asked him and Aemond to speak with him. She'd done it in Daeron's room. Making eye contact only with that wooden dragon he'd left behind.

"Fuck," Aegon groaned, throwing his head back. He despised this. Blowing out a breath, he glanced towards the window.

The sun had set. Torches and candles glowed all throughout the castle. If he listened, he could almost hear the music from the Great Hall floating up to his room. He shouldn't delay. His mother and siblings would surely be arriving by now.

He grabbed his sword, securing it on his hip. His thumb twitched over the black stone. Gwayne would be in attendance at least and Aegon hadn't gotten to see him since he'd been back.

Ormund. Stark. Gwayne. Then it didn't matter. He just had to be friendly, personable. Aegon groaned as he headed out.

Joffrey was so lucky he got to skip this nonsense.

"Uncle!" A voice called out to him and Aegon half expected to see his littlest nephew running down the hall when he turned away from the Great Hall's tall doors.

It was not Joffrey, but Luke looked remarkably similar to his little brother with his dark curls falling over his forehead. He weaved between a few doddling courtiers in the hall and Aegon stepped to the side, waiting for him.

"I, uh, can I ask you something... before the feast?" Luke bit his bottom lip, voice breathless as he stopped in front of him. Aegon waved him on. Luke flushed, "Well, uh, you see..." He glanced around. "Jace said not to."

"Oh?" Aegon arched a brow, lip twitching up. Luke whined. He ducked his head and Aegon tugged him into an alcove, dropping his voice to a whisper, "Now you have to ask me."

Jace really should know better. All three of his nephews had that rebellious streak Targaryens were so well known for. Rhaenyra's sons, truly. And Jace was the eldest, so his brothers had to ignore him. It was practically law.

"Come on," Aegon nudged him and Luke shuffled his feet, "Ask me~" He rocked forward, whining quietly. Luke laughed, a smile flickering on his face.

"It's about what you said a few days ago, with Joffrey," Luke twiddled his thumbs, fingers twitching at the clasps of his doublet. Aegon arched a brow. "That first day you were teaching him."

Head tilting, Aegon waited, but his nephew remained quiet. He nudged him again, shaking him lightly, "I'm not hearing a question."

Teeth grit, Luke huffed, hands flying up, "Well, you're not usually that serious, and... there was something... I swear I've heard it before, but I couldn't place it and Jace was no help. He made me promise not to ask you and-"

Ah! That explained the looks the two had given him. The most important rule. Laenor's rule.

"Ser Laenor said it to me, when I was little," Aegon cut him off, clapping his shoulder, "Joffrey reminded me." He shrugged, "And you didn't technically ask me so... you didn't break your promise."

"Wait!" Luke grabbed his arm before he could duck out of the alcove. His eyes were wide, "When... when did he say it?"

Aegon pursed his lips, swallowing back a hiss, "It was after my fourth nameday, but I don't know exactly. I had the dirk, the one Joffrey's using." It was such a vague memory for him, despite the clarity of the words. He tilted his head, "I think it was when he was teaching me."

"Do you... you think he said it to us too then?" Luke dropped his voice, head turning. He craned his neck to check the hall. "Jace was older. He remembers more, I mean, but I don't understand-"

"I don't know," Aegon's eyes fluttered. He glanced down at his arm, throat bobbing. Luke had grabbed his left arm, hands wrapping around the spot where his mark lay.

The mark throbbed. A sharp chill stabbing through his arm. Rapidly. Repeatedly. Growing harsher every moment Luke held his arm. Colder.

His nephew hissed as it finally came through his doublet, penetrating the warmth of Luke's hands. He dropped Aegon's arm, shaking his hands out with a furrowimg brow, "What... what was that?"

"Soulmark," Aegon rubbed at his arm, shaking it as well. He grimaced, "I'd apologize, but... well, you grabbed me." Luke flushed.

"My mother's doesn't do that..." Luke mumbled, brow furrowing. His fingers twitched at the clasps of his doublet again. He glanced up at Aegon through his lashes, "Does it hurt?"

Aegon chuckled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, "Finally, a question!" He ignored it, and Luke smiled as Aegon shook him lightly. With a sigh, he pushed a hand through his hair, scrubbing at his face, "You should ask Jace, about the stuff with your father. Or Rhaenyra."

Luke winced, nose wrinkling, "That's much easier said than done." Aegon narrowed his eyes and Luke ducked his head again, fidgeting. "It... They fight."

"Then don't ask them at the same time," Aegon clipped his chin, grinning at his nephew, "I said it because it seemed important." Luke nodded, lips pursing. Aegon arched a brow. "To him. When he told me. It seemed important."

"Oh," Luke straightened, eyes fluttering. His face was pink, a blush rising even as he smiled. Luke nodded sharply, "Thanks."

With a hum, Aegon glanced towards the Grand Hall. He puckered his lips, "I suppose I can't avoid going in any longer, can I?" Luke chuckled, shaking his head. Aegon squinted at the doors, glaring. "You wouldn't happen to have another question? Perhaps one about dragons that would require a demonstration..."

"Oh no, I'm not six anymore, uncle, I'm not falling for that," Luke slipped from the alcove, smiling brightly as he walked backwards towards the line of courtiers entering the hall, "And you're the guest of honor, remember?"

Groaning, Aegon followed him, "Don't remind me."

Chapter Text

Ser Harrold was the one announcing people as they entered the Grand Hall. Apparently Luke had already made his entrance, with Rhaenyra and the rest of her brood earlier.

It made it all the more jarring, entering alone, when the commander of the kingsguard called out, "Prince Aegon of House Targaryen, The Wildfire Prince."

Blinking slowly, Aegon entered the hall and approached the dais. He bowed to the king. Viserys grinned at him, waving him on. Aegon glanced towards his mother beside the king. She smiled as he arched a brow.

The king had approved the nickname then, or his mother. Viserys seemed almost amused by it. Aegon rolled his shoulders back and turned to survey the room.

He made a beeline for the Hightowers first. Lord Ormund preened at his obvious attention, but Aegon was stopped before he arrived. Rhaenys grabbed his wrist as he passed her table, "Aegon? A moment?"

"Of course, princess," Aegon inclined his head, turning to face her. She leaned back in her seat, smiling up at him.

"Corlys sent me something for you, from the Stepstones. He sent the package with one of his supply ships and said you asked for it to be returned as soon as possible," Rhaenys narrowed her eyes on him, eyebrow quirking, "I brought it with me on Meleys."

He grinned widely and glanced quickly around. Neither of his nephews were at the Velaryon table at present. Aegon dropped his voice anyway, "If I give you the name of a shop near Cobbler's Square, would you send it there?"

Eyes fluttering, Rhaenys nodded, "What is this mysterious package, exactly?" Aegon stole a goblet from her table and sipped at it, averting his gaze. She laughed, head shaking as she shooed him, "Go. Keep your secrets." Her eyebrows jumped up playfully, "I'm sure I'll find out eventually."

"I don't doubt it," Aegon said as turned from her table. His mother's cousin was frowning now, but Aegon plastered on a grin regardless.

At the Hightower table, Aegon was accosted by several other lords. And their daughters. He barely managed to question Ormund about Daeron. His little brother was apparently quite adventurous and enjoyed books about knights. All of which he'd already known.

"I sent him a letter recently," Aegon clicked his tongue, sipping at his stolen goblet. It was water, unfortunately. His grandfather would be pleased. He smiled at the lord, perched on the table beside him, "Do you know if he got it by chance?"

"My steward or maester would've given it to him personally, your grace, as soon as it arrived," Ormund assured him, patting at his arm.

Aegon inclined his head and laughed softly, "Perhaps I could send something with you, when you go back, my lord, if you don't mind?"

The hand on his arm slapped at his back and Ormund laughed heartedly, "Of course! Anything you like, your grace."

Flashing him a smile, Aegon toasted him before he finished off the water. He abandoned the goblet and grabbed another from the table. This one had some sort of juice, likely a cup meant for one of the pregnant ladies floating about. Ormund's wife among them, Aegon was fairly certain.

Across the room he caught sight of his next target. Lord Stark. He was tall, and broad. The start of a beard was evident on his face, alongside grey eyes that snapped to his when he felt Aegon's gaze. Aegon did not flinch from the sudden eye contact.

Jace was stood with him. The two were talking. His nephew smiled at the other man, head falling back in a laugh. Aegon's jaw clenched.

"Ah, the young Lord Stark, have you had the pleasure, your grace?" Ormund asked, eyebrow arching. Cregan turned his gaze back to Jace and Aegon huffed.

"Not yet, my lord," Aegon hummed, sipping at the juice he'd acquired. It was tangy. Tart. Better than water. He inclined his head, "What do you know of him?"

Ormund was happy to provide him all the gossip. Borros Baratheon jumped in with his own shortly after. Stark had been sent by his uncle, likely in an effort to keep the young man from throwing off his regency.

There was tension in the North. Wilding attacks had grown more frequent. Cregan was gathering support from his leige lords, had visited several on his way south. The regency would be over, sooner rather than later, and then the young lord planned to marry.

"He is likely the most eligible bachelor in all of the seven kingdoms, save perhaps for yourself," Jason Lannister slid in to the conversation with a smirk. "Rumor is he might be after a Targaryen bride."

Aegon took a drink and glanced back towards Cregan. Baela was standing with them now. All three were consummed by their conversation. Jace's eyes were bright, burning. Aegon frowned into his cup.

"Well..." Aegon stood, turning to bow dramatically to the lords, "...I shall have to go make sure his intentions are pure then, my lords." That earned him several laughs before he spun around.

He weaved through the hall, flicking Aemond's ear as he passed his little brother. Aemond snapped at him, lips pursing. Aegon threw his head back, spinning to aim a cheeky grin over his shoulder before he landed exactly where he wanted.

"Uncle!" Jace exclaimed, just managing not to spill his drink as Aegon bumped into him. An arm rose to steady him. A hand pressing at his back. "What are you doing?"

"Only the most important and solemn of all my duties," Aegon sighed, tossing his hair over his shoulder. He wiggled his fingers in a wave and Aemond scowled at him, "Annoying my little brother."

Jace rolled his eyes, "You should watch where you're going, Egg." Aegon tutted him, waving a hand dismissively. He brought his goblet to his lips, resting his arm on Jace's shoulder as he turned his gaze on Cregan.

"So, this is the young Lord Stark I keep hearing about, hmm?" Aegon arched a brow and the man inclined his head.

"Cregan, your grace." He met Aegon's gaze and they simply stared at one another for a moment. Cregan did not falter. Just as before.

The hand on his back lowered, pressing into the curve. Aegon hummed, "Rumor is you're looking for a wife and support against an annoying uncle."

Lips pursed and Cregan blinked first. Aegon smirked. The Lord of Winterfell cleared his throat, "I, uh, already have a... a bride in mind, your grace." His face flushed lightly, a smile twitched at his lips, shy, "Back home."

"Good!" Aegon chirped and then he straightened, turning his head to survey the crowds, "Then I can go annoy my uncle." Jace's hand twitched on his back.

"My father's with Lord Blackwood," Baela pointed out, gesturing towards a table where Daemon stood talking to a brunet with a weirwood tree on his doublet.

Aegon shook his head, turning properly now as he narrowed his eyes, "Wrong uncle." There were plenty of redheads, but none were Gwayne. He looked for green next, finding only Ormund and his wife.

"I don't think I've met your other uncles," Baela startled, eyes fluttering. Jace nodded, brow furrowing as he echoed her words.

"All but Gwayne live in Oldtown," Aegon said, spinning slowly as he did a full once over of the room. Jace's hand remained. The warmth of his palm sliding over his abdomen. "Aha!

He spotted Gwayne as he entered the hall and perked up. Aegon pressed a kiss to the side of Jace's head.

"Keep your new friend away from my sister, nephew," Aegon said as he backed away, leveling his gaze on Cregan once more as Jace laughed. Baela squawked and shouted for him to go annoy someone else.

That was exactly what he did, beating Aemond to their uncle's side by sheer trickery and the quick shove of a chair into his brother's path.

"You're late, uncle, I have been suffering," Aegon puckered his lips into a pout and his mother's younger brother laughed. He was pulled into a quick hug and Gwayne tucked some of his hair behind his ear.

"I am quite certain you have kept yourself entertained, my prince," Gwayne smiled and opened his arms again when Aemond appeared.

His brother sunk into their uncle's embrace, grumbling, "Yeah, he entertained himself by annoying me."

Aegon held a hand to his chest, exaggerating a gasp, "I would never." Two blank looks stared back at him and Aegon giggled, head ducking low. He finished his goblet and set it aside, "In my defense, mother asked me to be on my best behavior. Aemond is my only safe target."

"The queen also asked you not to drink wine this evening," Cole's voice drawled from behind him as he reached for a cup with a familiar red tinge at its lip. Aegon snatched his hand back and pushed it through his hair.

Gwayne greeted Cole with a quick nod as Aemond smirked at him. Aegon slapped at his arm. Cole coughed.

"The queen would like a private word, your grace," Cole inclined his head towards the dais. His mother sat alone, picking at her food. The king was chatting with Rhaenys down at the Velaryon table.

"Don't annoy Aemond without me," Aegon pointed a finger at his uncle and Gwayne smiled as he left. Cole followed him. The courtiers parted before them as a kingsguard escorted him through the crowd. Aegon quickly plopped into an empty chair on the dais beside his mother and Cole took up his station somewhere nearby.

An eyebrow arched, "You spoke with Stark." She blinked slowly, "What did you learn? What are his... plans, at court?"

Gaze flicking towards the Targaryen table, Aegon watched Helaena hide a smile in her hand as she spoke with Rhaena. He placed a hand over his mother's on the table, "He plans to marry a Northern woman."

His mother's shoulders sagged and she leaned back in her seat. Eyes closing briefly, she let out a breath, laughing softly, "Good." Her smile was soft, "The hand will be disappointed, but... Winterfell is quite far."

"I don't think Dreamfyre would like the cold anyway," Aegon leaned forward to whisper and his mother laughed properly, hand rising to her lips. She squeezed at his arm.

"Go, have fun," his mother dismissed him, her brows lowered, "No more than two cups, hmm?" He kissed her cheek twice as he rose from his seat.

Eyes followed him from the dais from around the room. Aegon had nearly flagged down a servant holding a pitcher of wine when a hand grabbed at his upper arm. Head snapping around, Aegon pulled his arm from the firm hold.

"Uncle," Aegon arched a brow as Daemon swaggered beside him, ducking his head.

Lips curling into a smirk, Daemon mirrored him, arching his own brow, "Nephew." He inclined his head, voice low, "Might I have a word?"

Rolling his shoulders back, Aegon nodded. He followed Daemon out of the hall, brow furrowing as they stepped outside, into a courtyard. A prickle of nerves ran up his spine.

They were properly secluded now. No witnesses. Very few torches. Aegon's gaze flicked towards Dark Sister as his uncle crossed his arms.

"I understand you've returned to your previous... habits," Daemon huffed, nostrils flaring. His lips twitched into a frown when Aegon snorted. "I am concerned."

"My habits are not your concern to have," Aegon reminded him, leaning forward with a mocking smile, "And I've been sleeping with Sunfyre, in the Dragon Pit." He laughed, hands gesturing forward, "As you suggested to me in fact, only a couple of year ago."

Daemon's jaw clicked and he bared his teeth, "I had not intended for that to be a nightly occurence."

With a roll of his eyes, Aegon crossed his arms, "Why is it that this concerns you so much now, hmm? I don't frequent brothels any more than you did at my age." He wrinkled his nose, "I, at least, do not have a wife."

"It is my wife who is most concerned," Daemon snapped, eyes narrowing. Aegon stiffened. "We had not realized just how long this had been going on."

Head tilting, Aegon furrowed his brow. He was lost now.

"What, exactly, are we discussing?" Aegon asked. Daemon's arms dropped. He fidgeted, shoulders rolling. Aegon squinted at him, taking a step closer, "The Princess Rhaenyra asked you to speak with me, obviously, so perhaps you ought to tell me why?"

"Rhaenyra was quite disturbed to discover you were... active, at such a young age," Daemon admitted, exhaling harshly. He rubbed a hand over his neck.

Oh. Aegon laughed, arms dropping as he ducked his head, shoulders shaking. Daemon frowned at him. "This is because I told Cole, a monts ago I might add, that I hadn't been celibate for over a week since I was twelve?"

Daemon pursed his lips. His nod was clipped. Aegon giggled, laughter trilling.

"Would it make you both feel better if I told you I wasn't that far off my thirteenth nameday?" Aegon arched a brow, hand rising to his lips.

"That is still quite young, Aegon, this is not a... a laughing manner," Daemon huffed, hands fisting at his sides as they rose to his hips.

Aegon threw his head back, "Of course it is!" He gestured wide, "Or was it not Rhaenyra's mother, your own cousin, who married the king at eleven?"

Ridiculous. They were ridiculous. Daemon clenched his jaw, "That's different."

"Why?" Aegon asked, face scrunching up, "Because she was a woman?" He crossed his arms again, "They were planning to marry Helaena to me at thirteen."

Lips curling, Aegon rubbed at his left forearm. His mark tingling as he pressed down on it. Daemon stilled in front of him, quiet.

"Probably the only good thing my mark will ever accomplish," Aegon mumbled, biting at his lips. He inhaled sharply, tossing his hair back as he laughed again, more hollow this time, "I can only imagine how much wine I'd have needed to consummate that nonsense."

It was Daemon who snorted that time, "Don't be so dramatic, Aegon. Helaena may not be Rhaenyra..." Aegon's gaze snapped to his face as his uncle smirked, "...but all Targaryen women are beautiful in their own way."

"Shut up," Aegon spoke, voice sharp, cold. He barely recognized it himself. A command. Properly. Daemon merely arched a brow.

"Do you not find your sister beautiful? Think her attractive?" Daemon drawled, lips parting just slightly. Aegon didn't hear what he said next. He shoved at Daemon's chest, pushing him to the ground with a roar.

The sound rumbled through his chest like Sunfyre's always did. His fist collided with his uncle's face and his nails with Daemon's throat.

"Don't talk about her!" Aegon snarled at him as they wrestled on the cold ground. Daemon wrangled Aegon beneath him with a growl. A hand grabbed at his face, shoving it into the stone under his back.

"Calm down!" Daemon yelled and then he screamed as Aegon bit at his hand. The sharp tang of blood filled his mouth. He moved his leg up, kneeing between Daemon's. His uncle groaned, rolling off of him and Aegon scrambled to his feet.

He drew his sword and Daemon froze as Aegon held it to his throat, chest heaving, "Helaena is sweet, and gentle. She deserved far better than me then, and she deserves even more now."

Chin rising, Daemon swallowed thickly. Voices shouted. His name. He snapped at them, cursing them in Valyrian. But he did not look away from Daemon.

No one touched him. Aegon pressed the point of his sword to to Daemon's skin. His hand was steady, his voice, "If you ever so much as look at Helaena, I'll run you through."

"I meant nothing of that sort-"

"You always mean something of that sort!" Aegon shouted and Daemon's nostrils flared as the blade pricked his throat. Aegon ducked his head closer, hissing, "You will never touch her."

Daemon managed a shallow nod, his hands rising up, palms out, "I have no intention of it."

"I don't care if I burn in all Seven Hells, uncle, I will kill you. Dismember you and feed you to the dragons," Aegon spoke calmly, enunciating every word as he said it, as if he were speaking Valyrian to Joffrey. "You touch Helaena, and we will find out if Dreamfyre still likes men when it comes to her snacks."

"I told you, I have no intentions, Aegon," Daemon growled, eyes narrowing. His lips curled. As uninterested in their growing audience as Aegon was, Daemon's gaze continually flicked about. He huffed, wincing as Aegon's blade pressed closer, "I am not that sort of man anymore, nephew."

Aegon snorted, baring his teeth, taking a step. He pressed his foot beside the pommel of Dark Sister, cutting off the hand that had begun to reach towards it.

"You are the same sort of man as me," Aegon growled, switching to Valyrian. Daemon stiffened and Aegon's nostrils flared, "The only difference is... I am not so stupid to think the king's approval or a random mark will make me worthy."

His mother's voice cut through the air and Aegon's head snapped up as she called his name. The queen stood, spine straight and gaze sharp, surrounded by half the court. Her gown's deep green fabric reflecting the flames of the sparse torches.

A true Hightower. Lighting the way.

Three kingsguards stood with blades drawn, creating a circle, a barrier, between Aegon and their audience. Cole. Harrold. Arryk. And his uncle. Gwayne a half step closer, a hand poised in what might have been a calming gesture.

"Stand down," his mother ordered, meeting his gaze, and Aegon stepped back. His sword pulled back to his side. Daemon inhaled sharply, head falling against the stone as Aegon walked past him.

The kingsguard all stiffened, Harrold stepped sideways, placing himself between Aegon and the queen. His mother called out and he turned to let Aegon pass.

"That... was not best behavior," his mother cupped his face. Her gaze was hard, but a smile flickered at her lips.

Aegon wrinkled his nose. He glanced back over his shoulder, head lulling to the side, "It wasn't worst behavior." Daemon was fine, slapping the hands that offered to help him up away.

His mother chuckled. She handed him a handkerchief and he wiped Daemon's blood from the tip of his blade before sheathing it. He heard the click of four other blades being sheathed behind him.

"Come, escort me back inside," his mother inclined her head and Aegon offered her his arm. The court was quiet around them. Low whispers. Averted eyes.

A loud chuckle echoed off the walls and Aegon smirked as his nephew taunted Daemon. "See?" Jace cackled, "It's not just me." Daemon growled.

"Thank you, Jacaerys, your amusement is greatly appreciated," Daemon huffed, sarcasm dripping from his lips. Baela's laughter rang out next.

"I don't know, Kepa, I appreciate it."

Chapter Text

He'd had no wine. Zero. His mother had rescinded her two cup limit and Aegon had spent the rest of the night within her sightline.

This was entirely Daemon's fault!

Everyone else had gotten to drink, but no~ Aegon had to suffer because he was still recovering, because he needed to keep a clear head. Because he'd lost his temper a little. Cruel!

As if everyone didn't agree with him? Ha! He'd listen to Jace excitedly describe the entire fight to Luke and his mother a few tables over. Or most of it, anyway.

Given his nephew's ramblings, Aegon gathered the crowd had been drawn by his roar and Daemon's shouting. Jace had arrived with Baela and Cregan in time to see Aegon bite his uncle's hand.

Rhaenyra had listened to his retelling with slowly narrowing eyes. She'd glanced once at Helaena, jaw clenched, before standing and sweeping from the room. Hand cradling her pregnant belly.

The very picture of the Mother herself. Regal and strong.

Jace had followed his mother out, fretting at her side. Aegon had thus been left in the Great Hall for hours after, alone, bored. Aemond was not a fan of feasts. He was even less a fan of people staring at him.

And they were. Or at least, at the table. Aemond had been jittery and Aegon had been sober. They'd ended up snapping at each other more than talking. It had almost come to blows twice. Gwayne had taken a seat between them after that.

They'd been stuck there. For hours! At a feast in Aegon's honor, with the king laughing away a few tables over. Viserys had found Aegon's threatening of his brother amusing apparently. As had the rest of the court once the king's reaction was clear.

"Can't your bring me just one cup?!" Aegon flung his door open. Ser Arryk stood across from his room, back against the wall, shaking his head.

"I am to remain here, your grace, to ensure you rest properly tonight," Ser Arryk repeated the orders his mother had given the kingsguard when they'd finally been released from that torturous hall.

With a whine, he slammed the door and spun back around. Aegon tugged open the collar of his doublet. His necklace was tossed onto his dresser. The sword at his hip onto his table.

"Fuck this," Aegon groaned, plopping onto his bed and burying his face in the blankets. The maids hadn't bothered to place warming pans beneath them.

Not that he blamed them. It wasn't as if he ever slept here anyway.

But he would tonight apparently.

A knock sounded at his door. Aegon raised his head, brow furrowing.

No one ever knocked on his door.

"Enter?" Aegon called out, pushing himself up as Ser Arryk opened his door. His nephew stumbled inside, giggling.

"Uncle!" Jace gestured wildly, racing forward. Aegon stood, catching his nephew with a huff as he barreled into his chest. His head tilted back, "You won't believe what's happened!"

Aegon blinked down at him, mouth falling open as he caught the scent of wine on Jace's breath. Arbor Gold. His nephew was drunk. He giggled again, pawing at Aegon's doublet.

"He actually got in trouble!" Jace was vibrating in his arms, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he clutched at Aegon. "Daemon finally got in trouble!"

Eyes wide, Aegon glanced up at the kingsguard in his door. Ser Arryk was grinning. Broadly.

The bastard. Aegon was meant to be the drunk one in this scenario! His door closed with a snap, and a snicker.

"She yelled at him, Egg! My mother! And he's sleeping in the nursery!" Jace squealed in delight, wrapping his arms around Aegon's neck as he swayed on his feet.

Throat bobbing, Aegon held him steady. Jace was practically plastered against his front. A giant ball of warmth writhing in his arms.

"Once I told her what you said, mother went to see him, barged into the maester's room and everything!" Jace told him, voice loud and laughter cracking sharply through the air. Like lightning striking the ground. Aegon's grip tightened.

Gerardys had been quite startled apparently. Not many saw the Princess Rhaenyra's temper. Daemon could now count himself in that illustrious group as well.

"She called him a lecherous ass!" Jace breathed against his cheek. He giggled more, pressing his forehead to the side of Aegon's head. "He tried to defend himself, said you misunderstood his meaning."

Aegon doubted that greatly and he said as much, snorting as he adjusted his grip. He wrapped one arm around Jace's waist and placed his other hand at his back. Jace hummed softly as he settled against him.

"They argued." Jace continued, fingers flexing as one arm dropped from Aegon's neck. "She mentioned Aunt Laena. And a brothel he took her to, when she was your age," Jace wrinkled his nose, "Which I didn't want to know about..."

"Agreed," Aegon's lips curled back. He didn't much care if Rhaenyra went to brothels, but... well, she'd watched him a lot, when she was his age. He remembered her back then a certain way. Pregnant, usually.

It was like picturing his mother actually. They were not so different, really, back then, not in his head. He blanched. Somehow, his opinion of Daemon dropped even lower.

Jace arched against him. A hand slid into his hair as his nephew laughed, "It was amazing, Egg! I have never seen her rage like this! She even threatened him with Syrax, should Dreamfyre leave anything behind."

With a chuckle, Aegon ducked his head. He smiled to himself. His fingers splayed out across his nephew's back as the younger man's heat poured from him. A proper inferno.

Each of his nerves was coming alive as his nephew's hands trailed over his body. Pawing at him, grabbing, finding leverage to hold on as his unsteady feet threatened to put him on his ass. The wine on his lips an oddly comforting scent.

"He claims he has never touched another woman while they've been married," Jace rolled his eyes, scoffing even as his words slurred just slightly.

"I find that a bit suspect, given his knowledge about *my* brothel trips," Aegon drawled and Jace grumbled. His hand found the clasps of Aegon's doublet. He fiddled with them, fingers playing with the golden fireballs.

As he yanked open Aegon's doublet, Jace hummed, "Mother didn't seem to care for his arguments either. She finally snapped that the greatest threat to the women of House Targaryen are it's men and then she went to bed."

"The greatest threat to any woman is her husband, you ask me," Aegon mumbled, leaning into Jace's warmth as his nephew's hand roamed his chest. He shuddered as the hand in his hair fisted.

"You are amazing, uncle," Jace whispered, nuzzling at his cheek. He chuckled, "I swear, there was fear in his eyes when you held that sword against his throat."

His nephew groaned, lips ghosting over Aegon's jaw. Aegon swallowed. His arm tightened around Jace's waist as his nephew rocked against him. A hard cock pressing to his hip.

"It was beautiful," Jace breathed out, mouthing at Aegon's jaw. Aegon stiffened and his nephew yanked his head down.

Dark eyes reflected the flames from the fire in his hearth. Golden and bright even as the pupils dilated. Jace gasped, breathing heavily.

"You're beautiful, Egg," Jace said and then his mouth slotted over Aegon's. He moaned as forceful lips captured his, pressing hard, demanding.

His body clenched, fire burning through his veins, his mark pulsing, beating in time with his racing heart. Aegon moaned. Fingers twisted in Jace's doublet as their teeth knocked against each, scrapping over their lips.

The hand on his chest pushed him back and Aegon yelped as Jace shoved him onto his bed. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering as Jace followed him.

"What-What're you doing?" Aegon mumbled as Jace kissed him again. His eyes half-lidded as Jace's tongue swept over his bottom lip.

"Kissing you," Jace chuckled, mouthing at his jawline. Aegon's head fell back as fingers slid beneath his shirt. Jace grinned as his hands groped at Aegon's bare flesh, "You're warm for once, uncle.

He managed a vague whine, arching up against Jace. Against the solid weight pressing down on him as his cock throbbed in his breeches.

A hand rose up, cupping his cheek. Jace rose up slightly. He was panting, smiling as his thumb pressed to Aegon's lips, "Gods, Joff is right, you're the most beautiful man to ever walk this earth."

"Jace-" Aegon's gut twisted as Jace descended on him again. The kiss hot, burning. So good. His hands ended up on Jace's hips, grip tight as he moaned into his nephew's mouth.

"Beautiful," Jace mumbled and Aegon whimpered, writhing beneath him. His pleasure coiling, a cage around his heart.

This was... this was Daemon's fault. His nephew was drunk, excited. Aegon was merely... merely the focus of his attention, the reason for the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

With a huff, Aegon flipped them, pinning Jace to his bed. He pushed himself up, rising onto his hands and knees as Jace whined.

"Egg~" Jace tugged at his shirt, trying to drag him down. Aegon inhaled, head hanging down. His nephew's hips rose up. He pushed them down, fingers digging in. Jace moaned, a drunken smile rising on his lips, "Never done it this way..."

Aegon cursed as his nephew spread his legs. His chest heaving, Aegon raised a shaky hand to Jace's face. "You... you don't know what you're doing."

Eyes rolled. An arm wrapped around his neck again and Aegon was pulled down, their mouths met again. Jace sucked on his bottom lip.

He mumbled something, kissing the words into Aegon's flesh. Aegon had no idea what the words were. Jace was slurring. His kiss sloppy.

It sounded like 'I want you' to Aegon's ears and he ripped himself away, stumbling back from the bed. It was a lie. A trick his mind was playing on him.

Jace scrambled to follow him, to grab him. His nephew was not accustomed to being drunk though and he crumpled to the floor. Jace whined, head lulling back against the bed as he sat on the floor, "Uncle~"

Ignoring the huskiness to Jace's voice, the red of his lips, the desire in his eyes... Aegon bit his lip. He closed his eyes. Jace was still there when he opened them.

A pout on his obscenely plump lips. Moist. Red. Aegon shook himself, inhaling sharply. He looked away.

"You need to go to bed," Aegon cleared his throat. His hand pressed down on his cock as he willed it to soften, to stop thinking of his nephew, writhing against him, grinding...

"So take me to bed, uncle," Jace huffed, head falling back. He licked his lips and Aegon fisted both hands in his hair, eyes squeezing shut.

Temptation. Jace was the embodiment of temptation. But he'd be angry, in the morning... resentful. Yes.

"Or I could take you..." Jace chuckled, voice breathy as he began to tug at his laces. His eyes closed too and Aegon's mouth fell open, throat suddenly dry as Jace touched himself. His nephew moaned, "You'd be even prettier on my cock, Egg."

"You're going to kill me..." Aegon hissed and he lunged forward, dragging Jace's hand from his breeches. He swallowed as his nephew smirked up at him, gaze dark as his eyes fluttered open.

He was in his lap now, sort of. Jace's hands slid over his thighs as Aegon hovered on his knees above him. He tied Jace's laces again, hands shaking, throat bobbing as his nephew squeezed at his ass.

"You are Rhaenyra's son," Aegon reminded them both, panting as Jace kept touching him. Palms as hot as dragonfire grazing over his body, slipping beneath his shirt.

"Yeah," Jace breathed out, arching up to press a kiss to Aegon's chest through his shirt, "She certainly can't judge me for my preference, can she? She married her uncle." Aegon whined. Jace mouthed at his chest, tongue wet as it flicked over his nipple.

Thicker shirts. He should wear thicker shirts. Aegon's head fell back. A whimper tore from his throat as he bit down hard on his bottom lip.

With great difficulty, Aegon fisted a hand in Jace's hair and dragged his head away. His nephew whined again.

"You... are going to bed," Aegon told him, holding Jace's jaw with his free hand. His nephew snarled as Aegon squeezed, "Your bed, in your chambers, Jacaerys, understand?"

"Fine!" Jace snapped and Aegon released him. Pouting as Aegon rose from his lap, Jace let Aegon pull him up onto his feet before he lurched forward again, "I want a kiss first." Aegon blinked and Jace wrapped his arms around his neck one more. He slipped into Valyrian with a grin, "One more kiss, and I'll go to bed, uncle, promise."

It was a bad idea. A trap. Aegon knew it. He also knew Jace's lips were soft and moist and parted slightly as they ghosted over his.

"Kiss me, uncle," Jace breathed out and Aegon groaned. He cupped the back of Jace's head as he slotted their mouths together again. Jace sunk into him, moaning as Aegon held him close. As Aegon slipped his tongue into his nephew's mouth for the first time.

Ser Arryk startled when Aegon ripped his door open a moment later. He shoved his nephew at the man, panting, "Take him to his chambers." His voice was sharp as Jace whimpered, going limp in the knight's arms.

He slammed his door shut again, cursing as he pushed a hand through his hair. Spinning around, Aegon leaned back against his door. His nephew was grumbling as Ser Arryk corralled him down the hall. The knight was half carrying him, by the sound of it.

"I want Egg," Jace mewled, words slurring. Ser Arryk shushed him and their footsteps faded as they descended the stairs.

"Fuck," Aegon shoved off from the door. He grabbed his sword, tying it back on as he slipped out. Ser Arryk had given up forcing Jace to walk and had hefted him into his arms. Aegon caught sight of his white cloak marching away as he slipped into the secret passage hidden under the stairs.

Mysaria's eyes fluttered when he arrived, "Welcome, my lord." She inclined her head, surveying him subtly.

The rumpled and open doublet. His nonexistent cloak. Messy hair. Seven Hells, she could probably see the wet spot on his dark shirt.

He knew what he looked like, but he couldn't find it in him to care at that moment. Aegon huffed, "Wine. I want wine." Eyebrows arched. "I'll go somewhere else if-"

"I'll have some Arbor Red delivered to your room, my lord," Mysaria waved him forward. Her head bowed properly.

Aegon downed a whole bottle before the first whore arrived. By the third of both, he couldn't even register the sharp pain from his soulmark anymore.

Chapter Text

His body ached when he woke up. His head. His thighs. Something slick between his cheeks had his brow furrowing. Aegon dragged his eyes open with great effort.

The room was fuzzy, but familiar. A fire was roaring in the large hearth. Warmth traveled up from the foot of the bed, dueling warming pans. Aegon blinked a few times as a tanned and wrinkled face hovered over him, slowly coming in to focus.

"If you ask me about flying, I will personally petition that foolish father of yours about having you barred from the Dragon Pit."

"That's mean," Aegon mumbled and the healer clicked her tongue. He pushed at the bed, trying to rise from the pillows. Crying out, stars exploded in his eyes as pain raced up his spine.

A hand moved to his back, helping him up. Her gaze was pointed, "You will have trouble sitting in a chair for a day or two, let alone a dragon's saddle."

Face flushing, Aegon bit his lip. He nodded mutely as she crossed back to the table. A jar of salve was tossed onto the bed, landing beside him.

"I would not recommend you repeat your... requests, from last night," she quirked a brow, "Though, given the amount of wine you consumed, I doubt you could remember them to ask again anyway."

More. He'd wanted more. That had been his request, his demand. Aegon had wanted to drink and be fucked until he'd passed out, till he couldn't remember his own name, let alone his nephew's.

That was exactly what he'd done. As his pounding head and throbbing hole were making very clear even as his memory went in and out.

Aegon cleared his throat and forced himself to meet her gaze, "And my leg?"

"Healing quickly, I will admit," she hummed, nose wrinkling, "You Targaryens and your dragons, I assume the connection is helpful. You have made great strides."

He smirked, head quirking to the side, "So..." The noise that slipped from her lips might have been a growl. "It'll be my brother's nameday soon. I want to go flying with him."

She clicked her tongue and began packing up her things. With a quick nod towards the salve on the bed, she turned to the door, "Apply that regularly until the swelling goes down. You are lucky nothing tore."

The door clicked behind her and Aegon blew out a breath. He shifted on the bed, wincing. Walking was likely to be quite interesting, at first. He'd manage though.

Mysaria appeared as he struggled with his breeches. Silently, she crossed the room and crouched to help him. As she rose, she drew them up his legs. Aegon tied the laces as she handed him his shirt.

"My healer is quite annoyed with me, for indulging you," Mysaria informed him, tilting her head as Aegon slipped on his doublet.

"She is usually annoyed with me," Aegon said, laughing as she crouched to help him with his shoes. His throat bobbed, "I hardly notice anymore."

An eyebrow arched as Mysaria rose to meet his eyes again. Hands were clasped in front of her abdomen. Aegon turned away, grabbing the jar from the bed.

"I assume I went over my usual amount last night, I'll send my next payment early," Aegon ducked his head as he tucked the jar into one of the inner pockets of his doublet.

"Your business is always appreciated, my lord," Mysaria hummed and a weight settled over his shoulders. He blinked, head rising slowly as she closed the clasp of the cloak over his shoulders. She did not smile as he stared at her. "Do you desire anything else?"

Swallowing, Aegon shook his head, "No. Thank you, my lady." She nodded and led him out. Aegon pulled the hood of the borrowed cloak over his head as he ducked out of the side door.

It was mid-morning. He imagined his mother had already discovered he was missing. Perhaps Ser Arryk had notified her before he arrived at the brothel even.

Aegon headed for the Street of Sisters, but he didn't turn towards the Dragon Pit. He had business elsewhere for once. If said business let him avoid the disappointed whines of his dragon when Aegon told him they still couldn't go flying, well... that was just a bonus.

Cobbler's Square was a bit of a trek. The walk helped him stretch his legs, shaking out the stiffness in his muscles. His ass was less appreciative.

Ducking into the shop he was looking for, Aegon tossed his hood back and flashed a smile. Rhaenys had, as he expected, already sent his package from Corlys to the shop. The owner was quick to lay out the leather pieces.

His old armor was made up of three pieces. Two back pieces that had laced over his spine and an embossed Targaryen sigil dominating the single front piece. All of it black, with leather textured to look like scales. The three headed dragon was painted gold.

"Most of the leather is entact and in fine shape, your grace," the leatherworker raised his head after inspecting it, "Would you like it repaired?"

"Actually, I want to know if you can resize it," Aegon shook his head and wrote down the measurements he'd bribed a maid for.

The leatherworker arched a brow, "That would require cutting the leather down considerably, your grace." Aegon nodded.

"I'd like the central dragon to remain at the center, obviously," Aegon inclined his head towards the front panel. His fingers twitched over the rip on the back piece that had once covered his left shoulder. "I have no preference for the rest."

A few moments of measuring and humming, frowning and grumbling, the artisan nodded, "It can be done, your grace." He traced out the cuts and Aegon approved them. "Do you have something in mind for the excess?"

"Maybe..." Aegon pursed his lips. He rubbed a hand over his neck as he looked over the chalk lines. "The paint, you'll remove it, I assume?"

"I'd recommend it, a fresh oiling as well, to strength the embossed leather. We can repaint the design and reseal it after," the man gestured with his hands as he spoke and Aegon grinned.

He tapped at the golden dragon, "Can you make it silver then?"

A throat cleared behind them and Aegon turned, immediately cursing when he saw the goldcloak standing in the door. The leatherworker inclined his head in respect. Aegon did not.

"Nephew," Gwayne drawled as he stepped forward, "This isn't where I expected to find you." Aegon straightened as his uncle lowered his chin and raised his brows, "I was quite certain Ser Greggory's squire had been mistaken when he said he saw you ducking in here actually."

"Yes, well, predictability can be dangerous, for a prince," Aegon drawled, clicking his tongue as he bowed his head over his old leathers again.

He ran a finger over the holes along the sides, where the lacings had once held them all together. Aegon had a new set of riding leathers now. Commissioned by his mother, black and gold still, just the same as these really.

Thicker, he'd noticed. Likely as thick as any leather armor could be, with additional reinforcements. Pauldrons added, for over his shoulders.

Aegon traced the chalk lines the artisan had drawn over the embossed leather. He had cuisses and grieves now as well, to match his vambraces, for his legs. A full kit essentially, just in leather rather than steel.

By the lines, Joffrey would have a front piece and two back to create a full vest. It had been enough for him, before the Stepstones. The vambraces had been an afterthought. A gift from Helaena he'd never worn before he left.

"What else could you make? Armor pieces, from the excess?" Aegon looked up at the leatherworker, ignoring his uncle's eyes on his back.

"In a full size or based on these measurments?" The man tapped at the paper Aegon had handed him with Joffrey's measurements.

Aegon shrugged, "Both." The worker sighed. He mumbled over the measurments, over the leather, over his tape measure. Aegon listened aptly as he gave his estimates.

Gwayne came up beside him, leaning against the counter. The artisan paused and Aegon waved him forward.

"Make what you can for the measurements I've provided, as close to a full kit as you can get," Aegon decided with a sharp nod. "Perhaps adjustable in some manner as he'll grow quickly, I'm sure."

"Armor for a child... an interesting purchase, your grace," Gwayne whispered as the leather worker began drawing out the pieces on Aegon's old armor.

Watching the chalk move, Aegon continued to ignore his uncle. His shoulders tensing slightly as the man remained beside him. Unmoving. Not touching him.

"Did you need something, uncle?" Aegon turned to him with a click of his jaw, smile tight. He reached out to flick at his gold cloak, "Are you not meant to be off doing... whatever it is the city watch does?"

"Protecting the city and ensuring the safety of its inhabitants," Gwayne supplied, eyes narrowing. Aegon hummed, nodding slowly as he puckered his lips.

The leatherworker's hands paused briefly as Aegon made shooing gestures towards the door, "Well, I think we're all safe here, uncle."

Armor clattering against itself, Gwayne crossed his arms. The leatherworker coughed and excused himself to the back for a tape measure, abandoning the one in his hands on the table.

"I don't need an escort for my errands," Aegon huffed, arms crossing in mirror to his uncle's as he turned to face him properly. He raised his chin. Gwayne tilted his head.

"That you left the Red Keep without escort implies this outing did not start out as errands," Gwayne reached a hand out, lifting the edge of his cloak slightly, "And that's the same doublet you wore to the feast last night."

Shoulders shrugging, Aegon met his gaze, "No one is shocked I started my day at the Street of Silk, uncle." Gwayne's lips pursed. "If my mother is worried-"

"The queen did not send me," Gwayne cut him off, brows furrowing. His nose wrinkled, "The hand sent word to me, when you were not in the Dragon Pit come sunrise." Aegon swallowed.

Ser Arryk would have gone to the queen. It was her orders that Aegon had circumvented and his mother would not have involved her father if she could avoid it. She certainly knew where he'd likely have gone.

He'd half expected to find Ser Arryk waiting for him when he left Mysaria's.

Why in Seven Hells would his grandfather have sent Gwayne of all people after him?

"Why would the hand..." Aegon swallowed back his question. He shook his head and turned back to the table, leaning against it, "My point remains. You're merely drawing attention to my presence here."

"Aegon," Gwayne sighed and his arms dropped to his side. He lowered his voice, "You need to be careful. Especially now." Aegon rolled his shoulders back.

His gaze focused on the ripped leather on the table in front of him. On the chalk lines around it. He bit his bottom lip.

"After last night..." Gwayne trailed off, swallowing thickly. A hand hovered over his shoulder before his uncle withdrew it, fisting it at his side.

"I am aware of my position and the dangers that come with it," Aegon said, squeezing his hands, fisting the sleeves of his doublet as he kept his arms crossed.

A prince was a target. Always. That he was the eldest made him even more so. Not to mention the fact that he'd probably destroyed any goodwill he had with Daemon.

He had no idea where he stood with Rhaenyra. But then, he never did.

And now Jace... with his... drunken advances.

Turning just his head, Aegon met Gwayne's eyes, "It's for Joffrey." His uncle blinked and Aegon nodded towards the leathers. "I promised to take him flying with me on Sunfyre, once I'm able."

A smile twitched at the knight's lips and he nodded sharply, "I will inform the hand that you had..." The smile spread across his face as he laughed, "...errands to attend to." He bowed his head. "Your grace."

"My uncle has left," Aegon raised his voice to call out to the artisan when Gwayne left the shop. The man returned, a slight blush on his cheeks as he continued his work.

"This will take some time, your grace," the man informed him, "At least a week."

Given what the healer had said, that would be no issue. Aegon nodded. His finger twitched on the leather again as he traced the central dragon.

Three heads. One for each of his siblings. Helaena. Aemond. Daeron.

"How long would custom vambraces take?" Aegon asked, eyes flicking up to look at the man. "Embossed leather, same as this, but a different design."

"For a single set, depending on the design, I could have that done within the week as well. Perhaps two, if the design is intricate."

Aegon sketched out an idea, biting at his lip as he turned it over to the artisan. "I'd want four sets."

The man nodded, brow furrowing. "I can have a mock up done, your grace, for you to approve the final design."

"I'll return at the end of the week then," Aegon agreed, flashing a quick smile, "I'll have payment sent when I return to the Red Keep."

A return he was not looking forward to, and which grew rapdily less appealing the closer he got to the gate. Aegon consider ducking onto the Street of Steel to search for Aemond's nameday gift, or perhaps ducking in to the sept to hide for a few hours, but testing his grandfather's patience was never a particularly good idea. And if the hand had reached out to Gwayne, his patience had already run out.

"Your grace," a guard at the gate bowed his head, "The hand has requested you meet with him as soon as you return, in the Small Hall."

The Tower of the Hand loomed over him. His hands fisted in his borrwed cloak as he entered, throat bobbing. The fabric was rougher than his cloaks. He quickly found a seam, worrying his thumb over it.

"Grandfather," Aegon plastered on a grin as he entered the main hall of the tower. He exaggerated a bow, head rising with a flourish so his hair fanned out, "I hear you're looking for me."

Chapter Text

Otto Hightower sat at the head of his table with a frown. He was always frowning, but it certainly grew deeper as Aegon swaggered forward. He leaned over the back of a chair at the foot of the table, arms resting on it precariously as he swayed slightly.

"Is this about last night? With Daemon? I would've thought you a fan of my work, given your distaste for my uncle," Aegon hummed, rocking backwards on his heels as his grandfather's brow furrowed. Gripping the chair tightly, Aegon chuckled, "And we all know Helaena's your favorite."

"It is about last night," Otto inclined his head forward, "but not your fight with Daemon." A brow quirked and hands were folded over the table, "That, actually, may have been the best decision you made at that whole feast."

Eyes fluttering, Aegon stared at his grandfather, back straightening. The hand of the king had just... complimented him, possibly.

Hands gestured out, "You bested Daemon, a man known for fighting dirty, at his own game." Otto smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You emphasized the dragons, Targaryen history."

"I threatened to feed his body to Dreamfyre, that's..." Aegon squinted, head tilting. Otto hummed and Aegon pushed up from the back of the chair, standing properly as his knuckles went white. "Are you saying I did well? Threatening my uncle?"

"Daemon looked like the fool he is, for once," Otto nodded once, sharp, clipped. "You appeared strong, decisive. The qualities of a good king." A shiver ran up Aegon's spine.

For possibly the first time in his life, his grandfather seemed pleased with him. Almost. And it was all because he'd lost his temper...

"From what I've heard..." Otto continued, his frown twitching up just once, "His comments about Helaena to you have caused the first major rift between him and Rhaenyra as well." It was not a smile, but Aegon found himself preening under his approval.

It wasn't... he hadn't meant to make things difficult, between Rhaenyra and her husband. But Otto was pleased. Jace... Something twisted in his chest. Pride, maybe. Blooming. His shoulders sagged and Aegon smiled, "So... I did well?"

The fingers of one of Otto's hands drummed on the table, his head tilting just slightly. Eyebrow quirked. "It would have been a masterstroke." His tone was flat, his gaze leveled on Aegon over the table, "If you had done it on purpose."

"Right," Aegon ducked his head. He cleared his throat, shoulders rolling back. Best to refocus the topic, away from him. "I, uh, I heard about Daemon and Rhaenyra fighting. Is that truly helpful though? Isn't... you've said Daemon is unpredictable, when Rhaenyra isn't around to reign him in. Violent."

"It weakens her, a division between the two of them," Otto raised his chin. His voice sharpened, his hand stilled, "That is not why you're here."

Cursing internally, Aegon swallowed. His gut twisted. His grandfather's drawl was thick and laced with annoyance. Frustration. Hands shaking, Aegon dropped them from the back of the chair, hiding them behind the wood as his fingers twitched over one another.

"You are here because of your continued, and dangerous, relationship with Prince Jacaerys."

Gaze dropping to the floor, Aegon's throat bobbed, "I... he's my nephew, we are friendly, it is not-"

"Friendly is not the word I would use when he's being escorted, drunk, from your room late at a night," Otto spoke pointedly, rising from his seat. His hands on the table as he leaned forward.

Aegon took a step back reflexively. His grandfather stepped from behind the table, stalking towards him.

"You sent him back to his rooms with a kingsguard and then disappeared to a brothel, Aegon," Otto reminded him, steps echoing in Aegon's head as he approached. "That does not reflect well."

"I go to a brothel all the time. They're not connected events. Jace merely provided an opening to-" Aegon knew the moment he began to ramble it wouldn't work. A hand clasped his chin, dragging his gaze up as he flinched.

Otto's gaze was hard, his lips pursed, "You're limping." Throat bobbing, Aegon laughed.

"I'm not," Aegon insisted, his voice high and hysterical. He cringed, "I got very drunk, grandfather, several bottles, and with my injury-"

"You can hide it however you wish, but I am not stupid, Aegon. Nor are the lords of court," Otto's hand tightened on his jaw. Fingers dug in and Aegon whimpered.

It didn't hurt. Not really. Wouldn't even bruise. Just a reminder. A familiar hold that had Aegon's eyes trembling as Otto narrowed his gaze, expectant.

"The fight with Daemon will bring more attention, more scrutiny. More danger," Otto lowered his chin, eyes still as they met Aegon's, "But, it would be foolish for you to ignore the opportunity."

"What opportunity?" Aegon whispered, voice cracking. His hands fisted at his sides as Otto shook him. He stumbled as his grandfather released him, throwing him vaguely towards the wall.

With a huff, Otto rolled his eyes, "To gain influence, Aegon, power." He stood tall, shadow long, with hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed Aegon.

Aegon swallowed, shoulders hunching as he huddled at the wall. He lowered his gaze to the floor with a short nod. His grandfather's lips curled back.

"All of which could be lost as quickly as it is gained should your..." Otto inhaled, nostrils flaring, "...preferences..." Aegon flushed, wincing as his body tensed and a sharp pain shot up his spine. "...become public," Otto finished.

It wasn't Jace. It was men. His taste for having men. It wasn't Jace. His grandfather didn't know, couldn't.

"As Ser Laenor learned first hand," Otto reminded him, taking a step closer. Aegon stared at his grandfather's feet. The tops of his shoes. "As his sons will, no doubt, learn as well, given the... taint, that remains on the three of them. That Jacaerys now invites."

The hand returned to his chin. Two fingers lifting his chin. Aegon straightened, meeting his grandfather's gaze as the man's eyebrows arched.

"You must take greater care in who you spend your time with, how you are perceived," Otto's hand dropped to his shoulder, squeezing, "For your sake."

"I, uh, I understand," Aegon agreed, exhaling shakily as fingers dug into his left shoulder. He closed his eyes, whining as the pressure pushed at the twisted skin beneath his doublet.

"Good," Otto dropped his hand and turned away. He walked back towards the table. Aegon rubbed at his shoulder. His grandfather reached for something, and then he was offering it. "A letter arrived for you, from Oldtown."

Aegon snatched the letter from his grandfather's hand. A familiar seal. A dragon sitting atop the Hightower. Daeron.

"You may go," Otto settled back in his seat, head bowing over his work. "Stop cavorting with Prince Jacaerys." Aegon fled, quickly, barely registering the final command until he was already gone. He slipped through the halls towards Maegor's, avoiding courtiers and guards alike.

Back in his room, Aegon sat on the floor, back against the door. He held the letter aloft in his hands as tears prickled at his sides.

Helaena had told him Otto was controlling the letters they got from Daeron. Withholding them for his benefit, handing them over like prizes for good behavior. His finger traced the seal. He hadn't even realized this was what he'd been working for at the feast.

"I'm such a fool," Aegon breathed out, head falling back against the door. The sun was pouring in from his window. Bright. Judging. His head ached and he closed his eyes.

Maybe he was letting his nephews get too close. Luke was ducking in to alcoves with him. He was commissioning riding leathers for Joffrey.

And Jace... Fuck, he'd kissed him. Aegon whined. Here, in this room, he'd kissed his nephew. Heat pooling in his gut, burning beneath his skin. On his arm, his soulmark pulsed at the memory. His cock stirred between his legs.

Dangerous. That's what his grandfather had said. He was right. Even if... even if Jace had actually wanted him, if he hadn't just been drunk and happy and horny and... Even if Jace actually wanted him, it couldn't happen.

The king would die, Rhaenyra would be queen, the lords would push back, and then... Aegon would either have to take the crown or bow his head for an executioner's blade.

His finger traced the dragon on Daeron's seal. It wouldn't just be his head on the chopping block.

Aegon opened the letter and he let himself cry as he read over his brother's words. Daeron had rambled at length about Tessarion, her beautiful scales and her bright eyes. Aegon had asked him about dragonriding, about whether he had proper riding leathers and how his Valyrian was going. Daeron had answered that and more.

In his head, Aegon tried to picture his brother, to picture Daeron. He'd been cute, the last time Aegon had seen him. Four years old, with chubby cheeks and whispy silver hair that curled around his ears. A smile that was bright and mischievous. Like Joffrey.

He hadn't appreciated it then. He'd been twelve and sulky because his mother had barred him from the Dragon Pit for taking Daeron down into the lairs by himself. It didn't matter that his brother had claimed a dragon, it had been too dangerous. Aegon had gotten in trouble and he blamed his brother for it.

They wouldn't have gotten caught, after all, if Daeron hadn't claimed Tessarion.

Tessa. Daeron called her Tessa. Or Tes. The Blue Queen. He claimed she was the most beautiful dragon in the whole world. With scales brighter and bluer than the Sunset Sea.

Aegon held the letter to his chest and ducked his head. A sob wracked through his body, shaking his limbs. His leg throbbed as he pulled his knees to his chest. His body ached, just as it had when he woke up.

This was what his mother did. Crying over Daeron's letters. Over his absence.

"Fuck!" Aegon cursed, hands fisting in his hair. He took shaky breaths. Gulping down air as he forced himself to stop crying. His mark gave a twinge.

Daeron had to come first. If he... if Aegon did this right, maybe... maybe he could convince his father to bring him home. That was the whole point of power right? Of influence?

It wouldn't matter what Rhaenyra might do, if Aegon could get Daeron back. If they were all here, in King's Landing. It wouldn't matter what the lords wanted. They could run, when the king died, they could run.

And he just had to... had to do what his grandfather said. Gain influence. Favor. The king's favor.

Avoid Jace. His grandfather had ordered it. Demanded it.

"Fuck," Aegon scrubbed a hand down his face with a growl. He stood, letter in hand. His mark starting to throb.

He could do that. He could... it was too confusing anyway. Jace looking at him, his smile. Aegon was allowing it to confuse him, allowing what he wanted to be true to cloud what was actually true.

Jace was Rhaenyra's son. The perfect prince. Dutiful. Honorable. So good. And Aegon... Aegon had told Daemon, hadn't he? In his anger, he'd admitted it. Neither of them were worthy of their soulmates.

Aegon set Daeron's letter on his desk, leaning over it, bracing his hands on the edge. His brother needed him. His mother.

With a growl, Aegon ripped the cloak from his shoulders and tossing it onto the bed. He tore open his wardrobe, dragging the red doublet from the bottom.

The letters were still there. Jory had tucked them inside and folded it properly before burying it in one of Aegon's bags on the Stepstones. Aegon had put it away himself, shoving it beneath the rest of his doublets. He never wore red. It was pulled out only when he wanted to read one of the letters again.

His soulmark stared back at him from every one of them. As if Aegon himself had been stamped with Jace's seal. A dragon coiled around a seahorse.

He'd offered advice, and jokes, whatever Jace needed. In turn his nephew had kept writing. Asking questions. Rambling about what happened at the Red Keep.

It was stupid to keep them. His grandfather would be furious if he found them. He'd think... he'd know, what Aegon was hiding.

Rubbing at his forearm, Aegon looked back at the letter on his desk. His room was quiet. Aegon's head was not.

This was always the choice. His brothers or his nephews.

Aegon had made the choice before. Whether it was Daeron or Aemond, the decision was the same.

He lit a fire in the hearth, striking the flint and watching the flames burst to life on the kindling beneath the wood. Fire was always beautiful, even when it wasn't golden flames.

Cole found him an hour later. Aegon had striped his doublet off, sitting mere inches from the flames, the final letter in his hand.

It was his favorite. A short note, written between their regular correspondence. The handwriting a bit messier than usual. Written quickly. Sent without thinking, Aegon had always assumed. Without realizing what it implied.

"Your grace," Cole's hand settled on his shoulder and Aegon flinched away. He crumpled the note in his hand, hiding the words.

Jace had missed him. That was all it said, really. That he wanted Aegon to come home. That he missed the Valyrian lessons, Aegon's head in his lap. The sound of Aegon's voice, the way Valyrian sounded on his lips.

"Daeron wrote me," Aegon choked out, inclining his head towards the desk as Cole took a step back. He climbed to his feet, stumbling forward. Cole caught him and Aegon buried his face in the man's chest.

He didn't cry. His shoulders shook and his body was thrumming with pain, but... he didn't cry. Cole combed a hand through his hair.

"Do you still wish to join me for training, your grace? With your brother?" Cole asked and Aegon straightened up, inhaling sharply as he passed by the knight.

The last letter was returned to the inside of his red doublet. Aegon pulled on one of his old ones, plain black and slightly worn. His fingers shook as he worked the clasps.

Cole watched him, but he did not comment. Not any more than he did on Aegon's slight limp, or the way he bit his lip to hide a hiss when he took a step.

"Prince Aemond will be glad to see you, I'm sure. He was quite concerned, with your disappearance last night, my prince." Cole turned his back when Aegon pulled the jar of salve from the doublet he'd left on the floor.

"Why was Aemond worried?" Aegon asked as he unlaced his breeches. With a grimace, he applied the salve, hissing as his cold fingers touched his swollen hole. He cleared his throat, "I leave at night all the time."

Back straight and gaze pointed at the door, Cole cough, "Yes, your grace, but you have not missed a sunrise with Sunfyre since you descended this tower after your confinement."

Aegon hummed, tossing the jar onto his bed before relacing his breeches. "I still don't-"

"The hand questioned him quite thoroughly when he arrived to break his fast with your brother and sister this morning," Cole turned his head now, eyebrow arching as Aegon washed his hands in a cold basin of water from the night before. "Your grace."

Fuck. Aemond would be in a proper state now. Suspicious. Nervous. Aegon groaned, "And my mother? I assume she's been worried too?"

This was Daemon's fault. Everything was Daemon's fault. That stupid fight. If his uncle had just kept his mouth shut...

His mother would have assumed the worst, surely, especially if she'd known Rhaenyra had kicked the man from her bed. Daemon was known for his temper. And his grudges.

"The queen was not made aware of your absence till just recently, your grace. Both she and the king were notified upon your return." Cole informed him as Aegon headed for the door.

Aegon paused, he turned to face the kingsguard fully, head tilting, "Ser Arryk didn't tell her last night?"

He squinted at the kingsguard as Cole nodded, "The king requested they not be disturbed. Ser Arryk brought the issue to me and then Ser Harrold. A search was considered, but the hand said that was unnecessary."

"Unnecessary and a waste of time, I'm sure Ser Arryk could've guessed where I went," Aegon wrinkled his nose and spun around. It was probably a good thing, the king requesting his mother at night again. A sign of his improving health.

It made him nauseous, regardless, as he descended from the tower. He'd have to visit her, later, to check on her. His mother was always quiet, after a visit with the king.

His brother was already in the yard when Aegon arrived with Cole. Running through drills, a thin layer of sweat on his brow and a scowl twisting at his face.

"One would think that dummy had committed treason, little brother," Aegon greeted him with a drawl, circling behind the wooden dummy now surrounded by straw. Aemond's next strike went right for his head and Aegon ducked. "Kinslaying is bad, Aemond!"

"I am to follow the examples of my elders yes? And you didn't seem too worried about kinslaying last night," Aemond grumbled, though he stepped back from the dummy. The sword lowered.

Cole tossed him a waterskin and Aemond drank from it as Aegon narrowed his gaze, "Elders?" Nose wrinkling, Aegon crossed his arms, "Are you calling me old brother?"

"Hmm," Aemond tilted his head, setting the waterskin aside, "I suppose elders are meant to be wise aren't they?" He shook his head, "My apologies, brother, I misspoke."

With a squawk, Aegon tackled him. Aemond went down with a shout. They wrestled across the ring. Cole stepped around them, eyes rolling, but he was hiding a smile in his shoulder.

"No biting!" Aemond kicked at his chest and Aegon rolled off of him with a cackle. His chest heaved as he declared his victory. Aemond snapped his jaw closed.

"Uncle Aegon!" Joffrey entered the training yard with a gleeful squeal and Aegon grunted as the boy collided with his chest, tackling him back to the ground before he'd even sat up properly.

Aemond snickered beside him and Aegon slapped at his arm, "Shush you, or I'll actually bite you next time." Aemond paled.

"Did you really beat Daemon in a fight?!" Joffrey was tugging on his doublet, demanding his attention. Aegon sat up, standing his nephew between his legs as he winced.

Rhaenyra stood not far off. A hand craddling her stomach as she paused in the archway that led to the corridor surrounding the training yard. She flashed him a quick smile, but her eyes were ringed red. Dark circles smudged beneath them.

"I, uh, well, yes," Aegon swallowed and focused on Joffrey. He chuckled, rubbing absently at the back of his neck, "It wasn't a a proper fight, of course, with uh, swords..." Aegon trailed off as Joffrey's eyes brightened.

"But you won!" Joffrey was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "No one beats Daemon!" He squealed, wrapping his arms around Aegon's neck and hanging limply from his body, "You have to teach me everything, uncle!"

The corridor surrounding the yard was empty now. Aegon gaped at the spot his elder sister had once stood in. She'd left no maids. No nanny. Just Joffrey, who was now demanding to know how Aegon had won.

"He bit him," Aemond whispered, ducking closer as he grinned at Joffrey, "Daemon tried to pin him, so Aegon bit him, kneed him in the crotch, and then drew his sword before Daemon could recover himself."

"How do you know that?!" Aegon snapped as Joffrey gasped, hands rising to his lips as he shook with excitement. Aegon frowned at Aemond, "You were inside."

His brother shrugged, "I asked Jace. He told me during our lessons this morning." Aegon blinked.

"Wait..." Aegon looked back at the dummy that Aemond had been abusing. His eyes narrowed and he turned his head to level his gaze on Aemond, "Why weren't you at lessons just now?"

Joffrey giggled into his neck as Aemond stumbled over an excuse. Cheeks flared red. Aegon held a hand to his forehead.

"Gods be good, I've finally done it," Aegon whispered to Joffrey, smile twitching at his lips. Aemond groaned. "I finally broke him. Aemond skipped a lesson!"

"Can you break Jace next? He never skips lessons, no matter how much I ask!" Joffrey begged, head falling back in a pout. Aegon choked.

A snort sounded from behind him, "I am unbreakable, Joff." A shudder ran up his back and Aegon flushed as Joffrey hooked his chin over Aegon's shoulder to aim his pout at Jace.

"Vermax agrees with me. We could go flying, but no~ You have stupid lessons..." Joffrey groused, head nuzzling against Aegon's neck.

"So do you," Jace reminded him in a faux whisper. His breath warm on Aegon's ear as he stood directly behind him. Aegon's hand twitched against Joffrey's back.

Aegon reached for Aemond's shoulder, using him to leverage himself back onto his feet even as Aemond growled at being shoved back to the ground. Joffrey laughed and launched himself at Aemond next.

His brother allowed himself to be Joffrey's latest conquest. He merely glared up at the boy as he declared his victory, a near identical declaration to Aegon's earlier. Aemond sniffed, "It doesn't count if Aegon does the work for you."

Joffrey was quite happy to argue that point, which left Aegon standing, without distraction, in front of Jace. His heart pounding loudly in his ear, Aegon stared into dark eyes. Dark, trembling eyes.

"About last night..." Jace mumbled, stepping closer as he dropped his voice, "I, uh-"

"Don't worry nephew," Argon cut him off, plastering on a grin, "I've made far more questionable decisions while drunk." His nephew blinked. "You needn't give it another thought."

A hand rose to Jace's neck, his lips parted, but no words came out. Aegon found his gaze lingering on those lips. Plump, red.

Skin pebbling, Aegon bit his lip as the ghost of those lips grazed over his jaw, as they had the night before. He ducked his head, laughing sharply.

"Besides, I quite enjoyed hearing about my uncle getting in trouble," Aegon focused just on that, on the part of the night that didn't have his body... reacting. Yearning. For demanding lips and firm hands. A hard cock against his hip...

Aegon took two steps back and called for Joffrey to leave Aemond alone. His nephew let him walk away. Jace stared at him, gaze wide and head tilted. A short nod and he seemed to accept what Aegon was doing.

They didn't need to talk about it. They... they could pretend it never happened. That it was meaningless, that Aegon had not taken advantage of Jace's drunken demands to kiss him. That Aegon hadn't... hadn't wanted him.

Jace watched him the whole afternoon. Aegon kept his back to Cole's lesson as he worked with Joffrey. Kept his back to Jace. Avoided his warm gaze when Joffrey pressed a kiss to his cheek to revive him after his latest dramatic death.

But their eyes met, when Joffrey ran to him at the end. When he abandoned Aegon on the ground to regale his brother with the details of his lesson. Jace nodded along to Joffrey's rambling, but his gaze was on Aegon, pinning him to the stone beneath his aching ass.

The heat in his nephew's eyes was anger. Fire flaring to life, brightening the dark color to a molten gold. Aegon's gut twisted. A whimper slipped from his lips as Aemond dragged him off to Vhagar.

"Fuck," Aegon bowed his head to his brother's shoulder, thankful, for once, for Aemond's tall stature. He took a shaky breath, "He's gonna kill me, Aem." His brother huffed, eyes rolling.

"I don't think he's quite that angry," Aemond drawled as they headed for the Mud Gate. Aegon tossed his head back, cringing as Aemond asked, "What did you do anyway? He was quite pleased with you this morning, apparently Daemon was still cursing you at breakfast."

Aegon groaned. He didn't tell him, not even once they got to Vhagar. Aemond arched a brow as Aegon sprawled out in the snow. The cold of winter could not compete with the memory of those eyes, of the heat they sparked in his body. The way his mark pulsed.

"He's not going to murder me, Aem," Aegon mumbled, head falling back as he squeezed his eyes shut. Aemond paused beside him and Aegon whined, "He's going to kill me."

The moment Aemond caught his meaning, Aegon hissed. The foot against his side had not been gentle.

Avoiding Jace was not going to be easy. Not with the way his skin was tingling just thinking about him. Fuck. Aegon dragged his hands over his face. He was going to die. He wasn't sure who was going to do it, but Aegon was certain he was going to die.

Rhaenyra. Otto. His mother might do it herself even.

"I kissed him," Aegon admitted, eyes fluttering open. Aemond blinked down at him. "I kissed him." His mark throbbed. Aegon whimpered, hands fisting at his side, "I kissed him, and nothing has ever felt so good as his lips on mine."

Chapter Text

Aegon managed to avoid Jace for a full day. He was very proud of himself. He even kept his gaze firmly elsewhere when Jace had come to retrieve Joffrey at the end of Cole's lesson. Joffrey had pressed a kiss to his forehead and run to his brother.

"You realize he's getting angrier, right?" Aemond asked him as he offered him a hand up. Aegon groaned and his brother dragged him to his feet, "Why does Joffrey keep kissing you anyway?"

"Because that's how you revive the dead, Aem," Aegon flicked his brother's forehead. He stretched his arms above his head. A dull ache persisted even as his back cracked. "Since he killed me, it's his responsibility to bring me back."

A blank look was leveled on him, "You have a very odd way of teaching, brother." Aegon shrugged, waving a hand in Aemond's face.

"You're just jealous that our adorable nephew likes me best," Aegon stuck his tongue out and Aemond rolled his eyes.

"I have to meet with the maester to make up my lesson from yesterday," Aemond sighed, head quirking to the side as Aegon puckered his lips in a pout, "Can we visit Vhagar after dinner?"

Aegon agreed, "I'll visit Sunfyre then." He rocked backwards on his heels, biting at his bottom lip, "He's probably miffed at me for ignoring him for two days."

He was right, Sunfyre was annoyed with him. A tail rose in the air when he entered the lair, and then it was soundly plopped between Aegon and Sunfyre.

His dragon was also not alone in his lair. Tyraxes was curled up beneath Sunfyre's wing, napping.

In Aegon's spot, of all places!

"I was gone two days and you've replaced me with a baby dragon?" Aegon crossed his arms, chin rising as he glared at his dragon. Sunfyre huffed, nostrils flaring.

Hands flying up, Aegon turned around in a huff. He immediately froze. Vermax stood in the entrance to the lair, lips curling back. Sunfyre snapped at the smaller dragon and Vermax slunk past him, grumbling.

Tyraxes trilled happily as Vermax nudged at his side with his maw. The ground shook as the green beast plopped down beside Sunfyre a moment later, encircling Tyraxes in their warmth. The yougest dragon purred.

"They do this quite often," Jace informed him as he followed his dragon into the lair. Aegon swallowed. Shoulders tense, hands clasped behind his back. His nephew was stiff. Tightly controlled.

A tightly controlled ball of rage, just like his beast. Anger evident only in his eyes, and the way Vermax growled when Aegon moved to step around him.

"It seems to be something of an afternoon habit," Jace hummed, "Which is why you haven't noticed before, given you usually come in the evenings and stay till the morning." Eyes narrowed, "Except for yesterday."

"I had errands to run that morning," Aegon told him, clearing his throat as he took a step back. "I didn't have time to visit the Dragon Pit." Vermax ignored him this time and Jace walked forward. He kept going. So did Jace.

His back hit stone and Aegon grunted. Jace stepped closer, arms crossing, "You didn't sleep in your room, after you sent me away. You left."

Aegon inhaled, throat bobbing. Jace's jaw twitched. They stood a foot apart, his nephew glaring at him. Eyes wide, Aegon found he couldn't look away from him. From the burning gaze, focused on him. Entirely on him.

Gut twisting, Aegon grew warmer. His chest tightened.

"You didn't sleep with Sunfyre either," Jace surveyed him, lips curling back. Vermax grumbled. "You've been limping."

Laughing nervously, Aegon shook his head, "My thigh has just been acting up a bit-"

"Don't lie!" Jace snapped, nostrils flaring. A hand slapped against the stone beside his head.

Freezing, Aegon watched his nephew's chest heave. His cock hardened. Jace pushed closer and Aegon's hands shook as Jace whispered in his ear, breath warm.

"You wouldn't be limping if you hadn't sent me away, uncle." Jace was so warm and Aegon found himself arching into his nephew's touch as his other hand skimmed over Aegon's side, "I would've been gentle."

"I, you-" Aegon shuddered as Jace's lips skimmed over his jaw. He clutched at Jace's doublet as his nephew slipped his hand beneath Aegon's. He cried out, hips rising up as Jace's palm pressed to his back.

Skin to skin. His body reacted instantly, cock throbbing as his flesh pebbled from the heat burning through his veins. Aegon whimpered.

Their lips met and Aegon moaned. He clung to Jace, hand rising to fist in his nephew's hair as the younger man claimed his mouth. Harsh. Demanding. All teeth and tongue and hard lips.

Aegon wanted more. He wrapped a leg around Jace's waist, holding him tight against him as he panted into Jace's mouth. His other hand fisting in Jace's doublet as his nephew began to grind against him.

His mind was fuzzy. The heat thick, dragging him down as Jace shoved his doublet open.

"I'd have laid you out proper, uncle, on your bed," Jace kissed his cheek and moved to his jaw, mouthing at his flesh. Sucking little marks into his neck, "Had you writhing beneath me. Begging for it."

"You're Rhaenyra's son," Aegon reminded himself, pushing uselessly at Jace's shoulders. His hips rocked against Jace regardless, eyes fluttering at the hard cock grinding back.

Jace growled. His lips ghosted over Aegon's. "Why do you keep saying that?" Jace huffed and the hand on the wall moved to cup Aegon's cheek. "My mother isn't here."

Their mouths slotted together again and Aegon moaned again, melting into his chest. Jace smirked, grabbing at his other leg and hitching Aegon up entirely against the wall.

"You want me, uncle. I can feel it." Jace grunted, shifting his hips as Aegon gasped. His cock slid between his cheeks. Even with their clothes, with his ass sore...

"Jace!" Aegon cried out, fingers clawing at his nephew's back. His head fell forward as he started to bounce, to writh against Jace as he held Aegon to the wall. He felt like he was on fire, his blood boiling, his heart slamming against his chest.

"I'd make you feel good," Jace breathed against his ear and the pleasure mounting in Aegon's gut coiled. His nephew groaned, peppering Aegon's face with kisses, "You're beautiful, Egg. The most beautiful man I've ever seen."

Panting, Aegon tossed his head back. His neck arched and Jace's mouth latched to the long column of pale flesh. It felt amazing. The syrupy haze of their bodies rocking together had Aegon trembling.

He was going to cum from this. His cock was throbbing, his body clenching. Jace hadn't even touched his cock, and he'd reduced Aegon to this, to... heat, and pleasure. A burning warmth that had every nerve screaming for his release.

"Fuck, I'd bury myself in you now," Jace gasped, pressing their foreheads together. He whined, "I'd make you cum on my cock, if you weren't still... still limping."

A hand slipped past his waistband and Aegon dragged Jace's lips to his, muffling his scream of pleasure in his nephew's mouth. Jace circled his hole, proding at the swollen flesh with the pad of his finger.

"Did... did they not prep you properly?" Jace ripped his mouth back, frowning as he pulled his hand away, "I've never felt... you're more tender than I've ever-

"You've... you've been with men before?" Aegon blinked at him, breathing harshly as his body shook from his climax. Jace nodded mutely, his cock pressing to Aegon's thigh. Hard and wanting. Thick.

A cold realization dumped over his head and Aegon shoved him away. Jace yelped, stumbling back as Aegon dropped his feet to the ground. They shook, but he stayed vertical, using the wall for support.

Scowl twisting at his face, Jace caught himself in the dirt, "Egg!" He had no wall to cling to, and his cock was still stiff in his breeches. His cheeks flushed. Panting.

"He knows," Aegon told him, gasping as he dragged his eyes up to his face. He pinned Jace with his gaze, eyes hard, wide, "The hand knows." Jace stiffened.

"It doesn't matter, I'm-"

"Don't be stupid!" Aegon shrieked. He straightened, leaning back against the stone wall. Hands shaking. He fisted them in his cloak.

What was it his grandfather had said? The taint from Laenor lingered? That it would always linger.

He'd use that. Otto would using anything, to undermind Rhaenyra, to question her claim. Jace's claim.

"You'll... you're inviting comparisons," Aegon stumbled over his words, ducking his head to avoid his nephew's eyes. "You need to be careful. You shouldn't... shouldn't be..." Aegon whined, hands scrubbing over his face, "You shouldn't fuck me. Or any man."

Jace snorted, head falling back, "It's not like there's much difference between fucking men and fucking women." He shrugged, arms crossing again, "But with men, I don't have to worry about bastards."

Gaze flicking up to meet his, Aegon arched a brow. He had to make Jace understand. Had to explain.

He was a prince, the heir. The real one.

"But your wife would." Aegon whispered and his nephew's entire body went still. A cold mask descending on his face. "Whether it's true or not... the rumors will persist."

"I'm aware," Jace spoke simply, voice flat and disinterested. Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. He turned his head away.

Aegon's shoulders shook, "The hand... he told me... he told me to stay away from you." Hunching, Aegon whispered, "And you should stay away from me too. For your sake."

Vermax rose and Sunfyre growled. Jace snapped a command in Valyrian. His dragon followed him out as he stalked from the lair. Vermax roared back at him and Aegon flinched as the dragon's hot breath hit his face.

At Sunfyre's side, Tyraxes whined and Aegon joined him, sliding down the wall. A quiet sob escaped his lips as a shiver shook his body. He clamped a hand over his forearm, hissing at the sharp stab of cold that slammed against his palm. Sunfyre cooed at him, his tail nudging at Aegon's side.

"Stop..." Aegon shook his head, hands pushing through his hair. Sunfyre wrapped his tail around Tyraxes. But he kept his gaze on Aegon, unblinking and bright as Aegon curled up on his side.

He didn't move till Aemond found him. Tyraxes had remained and Aemond narrowed his eyes on the silver dragon as he tugged Aegon to his feet. Sunfyre screeched as Aegon left without a word.

"Do you think mother will let me have wine with dinner?" Aegon mumbled, hunching in his cloak, limping even with his brother's support. His dragon's roar shook the cavern around them.

"Are you fighting with Sunfyre?" Aemond huffed, eyebrow arching. Aegon shook his head.

Biting at his lip, Aegon sniffed, "No. I'm just being stupid." He wiped at his eyes. Tyraxes deserved Sunfyre's coddling much more than him. It was Aegon's fault, after all. He'd ruined everything. Like always.

"We missed dinner," Aemond told him as they climbed into the cart waiting for them, "We'll have to sneak into the kitchen before we go see Vhagar." Aegon smiled and his brother snorted, "I'm only letting you sneak one glass, on account of how pathetic you look."

"I'll take it," Aegon leaned his head against Aemond's shoulder. He closed his eyes. His brother's warmth was consistent at his side, solid. Aegon's next breath came easier.

The fingers of his left hand remained vaguely tingly. Numb. The nerves beneath his mark protesting as the cold poured out, his whole arm throbbing.

Aemond tucked some hair behind his ear, "You're shivering again. Maybe we should stay in the Keep." Aegon shook his head. "Vhagar will still be there tomorrow, brother."

But Aemond wouldn't, if Aegon didn't make sure his brother could control his dragon. He couldn't take it, couldn't take another brother being sent away. Not Aemond.

"You're not getting out of your dragon training just because I'm always cold," Aegon poked at him, tickling at his brother's side like he did Joffrey's. Aegon clicked his tongue, "I've been a terrible influence, trying to skip a second lesson in as many days."

"Shut up," Aemond rolled his eyes, slapping Aegon's hand away. His voice was light though. Almost laughing. And he let Aegon sneak a second cup, before they slipped back out of the Red Keep to visit Vhagar.

Chapter Text

When he arrived at the training yard the next day, Aegon pursed his lips. Cregan Stark rose up from where he'd knelt beside Joffrey to bow his head, "Your grace."

"I wasn't aware you were joining us today, Lord Stark," Aegon tossed his cloak over the stone half wall and perched himself on the edge. The northman furrowed his brow at his cool tone. Joffrey paid it no mind.

"Jace invited him!" Joffrey chirped, skipping over to Aegon. He held his arms up and Aegon immediately picked him up.

Joffrey wrapped his arms around Aegon's neck and, in moments, he had the entire story. Cregan had broken his fast with them and mentioned he felt stiff, having not trained properly since he left Winterfell.

Aegon's gaze flicked over Cregan. Stiff was not the word he would've used, watching the man move.

The Lord of Winterfell seemed quite... relaxed, in fact. His movements fluid. He spun the practice sword in his hand in an arcing flourish that had Joffrey's mouth falling open.

"Can you do that?" Joffrey's gaze snapped to his face and Aegon swallowed. He shook his head.

"No," Aegon laughed when Joffrey pouted, "I've told you, I am not a particularly good swordsmen." He ruffled Joffrey's hair, "I leave that sort of thing to Aemond."

Joffrey puckered his lips and rested his head on Aegon's shoulder, whining, "Uncle Aemond won't show me how he does the cool spins till I'm older. I asked."

Aegon laughed and lowered him to the ground, "It's just fancy footwork. You have to know the basics better first." Joffrey nodded sharply and ran to grab his sword from where it sat with his cloak, leaning against a fence.

Beside Cregan's sword. Valyrian steel. Even sheathed, Aegon could recognize it.

Ice. The name bubbled up, from some maester's lesson years earlier. The Stark's ancestral blade was called Ice.

"Shall we focus on footwork today then?" Aegon asked as Joffrey returned, smiling at his nephew as the boy grinned widely.

He did not feel Jace's gaze on him once throughout the lesson. Not even when Joffrey roared and Aegon shrieked loudly for his death scene. Not that it bothered him, being ignored.

Splayed out in the dirt, Aegon waited for Joffrey to kiss him, to revive him, as was their tradition. He was waiting much longer than normal.

"Oi! Joff, you can't leave me dead," Aegon cracked an eye open to find Joffrey frozen beside him, clutching at the Velaryon seahorse on his sword's handle with white knuckles. Head rising further, Aegon propped himself up on his elbows.

There were guards at the arch near them. Joffrey shifted back, hiding behind Aegon slightly as the two men surveyed them with narrowed eyes. Their doublets were bright green.

In the center of the yard, Aemond slowed upon seeing them, and Cregan's head turned from their bout. Baela and Jace paused a moment later.

"Did you want something?" Aegon called out to them, voice sharp as Joffrey hunched further under their obvious scrutiny, "You are interrupting my training."

The two guards straightened. Cole, who'd been drilling Luke on his grip, sent the younger Velaryon towards Jace. He crossed the yard, chin rising, "Prince Aegon asked you a question, sers."

"Your presence in the Small Council room has been requested, your grace," one of them cleared their throat. They both bowed their heads, to Aegon.

Aemond spun around entirely now. Cole's hand was quick to grab his arm, to keep Aemond in his spot.

Fair. Aegon had been sent to the Stepstones last time he was called to see the Small Council. And Aemond had this nasty habit of running off to hide behind a dragon the size of a castle every time he was upset.

With an exaggerated groan, Aegon rolled his neck and looked at Joffrey. He wrinkled his nose, "Perhaps you ought to leave me dead after all." His nephew giggled quietly and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. Aegon puckered his lips, "Rude. Dead men don't have to be responsible."

"Mother says even dead men answer for their crimes eventually," Joffrey said as Aegon rose on to his feet. Aegon gagged.

"Gods, I hope not," Aegon grumbled, ruffling his hair. He inclined his head towards Aemond, "Go show my brother your footwork, he could use the refresher I'm sure."

Shoulders rolling back, Aemond glowered at him as Joffrey whirled around. Their little nephew was already rambling about the new stance that Aegon had taught him.

"Come on!" Joffrey tugged at Aemond's hand, "Uncle Aegon told me to show you!"

With a smirk, Aegon gave a low bow before grabbing his sword and following the Hightower guards from the yard.

Aemond relented with a heavy sigh, "Fine! But I'm still not teaching you to spin." Joffrey whined properly.

A quick glance over his shoulder as he strapped the sword back on his hip. He caught Aemond relenting under Joffrey's wide eyes and trembling bottom lip. Just past them, Aegon met his oldest nephew's gaze.

Jace was staring after him, watching through his lashes. Aegon's breath hitched. His nephew quickly turned his head, teasing Luke about dropping his sword again as he walked to Cregan's side.

His stomach flipped. Fingers tingling. Aegon turned a corner, head ducking low. He'd left his cloak in the training yard, but that had nothing to do with the cold twisting in his chest.

Maybe Cregan would run him through with Ice and Aegon could see if that hurt more or less than seeing the man squeeze Jace's shoulder as they shared a laugh. He was guessing less.

"Ah! Aegon! Wonderful!" The king clapped his hands as Aegon walked into the Small Council room. Viserys gestured wide, smiling broadly, not unlike Joffrey had earlier, "Right on time."

"Right on time for what?" Aegon quirked a brow, gaze flicking over the table.

The whole of the Small Council was assembled. Otto, Rhaenyra, and Daemon sat along one side, with Ser Tyland Lannister right at the end beside Daemon. He looked quite nervous, fidgeting each time Daemon so much as twitched.

His mother was across from the hand, separated from Lord Beesbury and Mellos by an empty chair. A chair the king was now gesturing towards.

"You're to join the Small Council," Viserys leaned back in his seat. His hand fell to the table, wrapping lightly over his mother's wrist. The queen smiled at him.

Aegon tugged at the collar of his doublet and glanced down. He hummed, "Well, Joffrey didn't actually kill me..." Rhaenyra chuckled, head ducking low as the king furrowed his brow.

"It's a game they play," Rhaenyra explained, gesturing vaguely towards Aegon as he circled the room to take the seat indicated. "Aegon lets Joffrey win their bouts. His death scenes are very imaginative."

"And my revivals," Aegon clicked his tongue and took his seat. He shrugged his shoulders back and Rhaenyra laughed.

"Yes, of course, we wouldn't want to forget those," Rhaenyra exchanged a quick smile with his mother, "Aegon is exceptionally good with Joffrey, your grace, I must commend you. Even Jace doesn't have such patience for his little brother."

His mother preened and Aegon flushed as she took his hand. She bowed her head briefly to Rhaenyra, "Thank you, princess. It warms my heart to hear."

Her heart might've been warm, but her hand was fucking freezing. Aegon swallowed. He couldn't exactly talk though. Given the way her fingers had twitched when she touched him, his mother was thinking much the same about him.

She released his hand and he tucked his beneath the table. Aegon stopped short of sitting on them, but he did fist his fingers in the fabric of his woolen breeches.

Otto cleared his throat, "Shall we begin, your grace?" The king nodded, sitting back as Otto leaned forward, "Progress in the Stepstones has been positive. Lord Corlys' latest reports state there's been no further issues on the islands themselves."

"Minus the wildfire, I assume," Daemon drawled, clicking his tongue as Aegon stiffened, "That can be quite tricky to put out. Has Corlys mentioned?"

"He has, it is contained. Ser Vaemond states the same in his latest update as well," Otto inclined his head forward.

Daemon scoffed, "Well, if Vaemond says..." Aegon snorted, biting his lip when his grandfather's gaze snapped to him.

His mother drummed her fingers on the table, "What about the fort? The crown has supplied a great deal of coin to fund a fort on Bloodstone."

The long explanation that his grandfather supplied, half quoting from Corlys' letter, said exactly what Aegon expected. It was stalled. With the winter storms slowing supplies and construction. His mother pursed her lips.

"As the queen has pointed out on numerous occassions, the crown's coffers may be deep, but they are not infinite," Lord Beesbury sighed, brow furrowing, "With such slow progress, more funds will likely be necessary and I am concerned."

"Not to mention the cost of upkeeping such a position," Rhaenyra pinched the bridge of her nose.

Aegon puckered his lips. He said nothing, watching them debate back and forth. He got the sense that the crown was carrying the brunt of the expense for the Stepstones.

"Why don't you just make the Velaryons pay for it?" Aegon blurted out after Beesbury's second breakdown of the exact costs. As he understood it, the crown was paying for the fort and half the expenses related to the Velaryon forces holding the islands.

Given the position was mostly beneficial to the Velaryons' trade routes, that seemed quite silly to him.

"The Stepstones are being claimed in the king's name," Rhaenyra explained with a tight smile, "As such, it is the crown's responsibility."

"What if we gave it to them? As a seat, Vaemond could hold it," Aegon waved a hand vaguely forward. The table went silent.

Daemon narrowed his eyes, "You want to give *Vaemond* a seat?" He crossed his arms and Aegon shrugged.

With a pointed look at his uncle, he grinned viciously, "He'd be less annoying there than on Driftmark." Rhaenyra arched a brow, lip twitching up.

"I agree," Rhaenyra cut off any other response, of which there appeared to be many, given all the jaws clenching as she raised her chin. "The Velaryons are who fought for the Stepstones, both times. This would be a good way to show our... appreciation, for their sacrifices."

"Whoever holds Bloodstone as a seat would be financially responsible for the construction of the fort, and its upkeep," Otto inclined his head, eyebrow arching, "And the continued defense of the Stepstones in general."

His mother nodded slowly, "We should consult with Lord Corlys himself, to ensure House Velaryon's support on the matter." She smiled tightly, "I can't imagine he would protest his family being recognized in such a manner."

With a huff, Daemon leaned his head back against his chair, "He'll love it." His nose wrinkled, "*Lord* Vaemond, I feel nauseous just thinking of it."

"Even more reason to do it," Aegon grinned to himself, giggling as his uncle snarled at him. Rhaenyra turned her head and Daemon backed down immediately. "Don't worry, uncle, you'll still outrank him. Technically."

Lord Beesbury coughed and Lannister hid his smile in his goblet. The king did not hide his smile.

"We shall send word to Corlys in the Stepstones then, ask for his-"

"Corlys isn't in the Stepstones?" Aegon's forehead wrinkled. The entire table looked at him. He blinked. "He's... coming here? Isn't he?" He glanced around.

Blank looks. Entirely. His grandfather's eyes were narrowing. The king's brow furrowed. Even Rhaenyra's eyes fluttered.

"He left about... a week or so ago? I thought." Aegon swallowed thickly. He squinted at Rhaenyra, "That's... that's why Joffrey wanted to start with the sword."

"Is it?" Rhaenyra's voice went high, sharp. Aegon shifted in his seat, shoulders hunching. A hand grabbed his, squeezing his palm under the table.

His mother's face remained carefully still as Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes on him. Her jaw clenched.

"And which of my sons told you this?" Rhaenyra tilted her head, leaning forward over the table a few inches. Beside him, Lord Beesbury leaned just slightly away.

"Joffrey," Aegon answered slowly, carefully. Jace had confirmed it, of course, but he didn't think that was smart to share. "He said his grandfather was coming, the first day he came to the training yard."

"We'll send word to Rhaenys. She can forward it, as necessary." Viserys coughed and they all looked to him. Aegon squeezed his mother's hand. She patted his leg and pulled her hand back.

The rest of the Small Council meeting was significantly less contentious. Continued preparations for winter, for a tourney to celebrate Rhaenyra's youngest. Apparently the boy was coming up on his second nameday.

No mention was made of Aemond's nameday, though he shared it with the babe. Aegon kept his mouth firmly shut as the details were figured out. Apparently, the various lords who'd come for the feast celebrating Aegon's return would be remaining for the tourney before returning home.

At least he knew when Cregan Stark would be leaving. Even if it was not as soon as he would like.

"Aemond doesn't like feasts," Rhaenyra called out, as the king went on about who would sit on the dais during the feast after the tourney ended. His eyes fluttered and Rhaenyra smiled, "It's his nameday, I would not want him to be forced to attend an event he would not enjoy on his nameday."

"He won't be going," Aegon shrugged, puckering his lips. He traced his finger over the edge of the table and ignored all the eyes turning on him. Again. "I take him flying on his nameday. Helaena comes too. We've done it every year since he claimed Vhagar."

Helaena had kept it up while he was in the Stepstones. She didn't normally fly with others. Dreamfyre could be quite... defensive.

"Cole will probably compete in the tourney, so he'll want to go to that," Aegon clicked his tongue, still not looking up, "So, the feast will probably be the best time to go."

"That settles that. Was there anything else?" Rhaenyra's voice was firm. Certain.

She was sat directly across from him. He could see her hand lying flat atop the table. Her fingers did not twitch.

The king cleared his throat and Aegon chanced a look. Viserys was looking at Otto, "I believe that was the last item today, yes?" The hand gave a clipped nod and they were quickly dismissed.

Aegon avoided his mother reaching for his arm, darting out of the room before any of them could grab him. Otto especially. He'd no doubt have several notes on Aegon's behavior.

Training had broken up long before and Aegon didn't bother heading that way. He slipped behind a tapesty in a corridor nearby. It was quicker to get to Rhaenyra's rooms this way. At minimum, he didn't have to deal with any guards or maids or annoying grandfathers stopping him.

Jace was laughing in the main room, sitting with Baela and Luke on one of Rhaenyra's couches while Joffrey interrogated Cregan about Winterfell on the other. The Lord of the Winterfell was attempting to explain what the three acres of godswood were for. Comparing it to a sept had gone very poorly, from what Aegon could gather.

For half a moment, Aegon considered leaving, going to find Aemond, letting Jace deal with the fallout himself. With a huff, Aegon hit the latch on the door in the inner hall. He left it open as he went into the main room.

"Who wants to explain why your mother didn't know Corlys was coming to King's Landing?" Aegon announced himself in Valyrian and watched all their heads snap around. Luke paled

"Wait... didn't? As in... she does now?" Luke's eyes went wide as he stumbled over his response. In Valyrian, thankfully, considering Cregan was there.

Beside him, Baela wrinkled her nose. They both looked to Jace. Cregan followed their gaze, eyes flicking from him to Aegon. Narrowing slightly.

Joffrey sat up, kneeling on the couch as he frowned at Aegon. He knew enough Valyrian to have parsed the topic. Or he correctly deduced it, from Luke's panic and the mention of Corlys.

"Did you tell her? Jace said it was meant to be a surprise," Joffrey asked in the Common Tongue and Aegon made an effort not to growl as he answered in the same.

"Yes, well, no one told me it was a surprise," Aegon smiled tightly, teeth bared as he crossed his arms, "So I just announced it to the entire Small Council."

"So... you're on the Small Council now?" Jace leaned over the back of the couch. He crossed his arms, chin resting in his hand. He'd spoken in Valyrian and Joffrey huffed, arms crossing as he plopped back on the couch.

Shoulders rolling back, Aegon nodded, "Apparently. Which was its own surprise, but one Rhaenyra was aware of, so I'm less concerned about it at present."

Luke's concern and Baela's annoyance made sense. Especially as it became quickly apparent that Baela was not in on the surprise. Jace seemed unconcerned as they both snipped at him.

Not even the slightest bit of worry creasing his face. He kept his gaze on Aegon. Eyes hard, but expression neutral. Waiting.

Aegon closed his eyes, lips pursing as he exhaled slowly, "Jacaerys..." His voice sharpened and he inclined his head back, "Can we speak privately?" He rolled his neck, eyes opening as he grit out, "Please."

"Is Jace in trouble?" Joffrey scrunched up his brows. Jace chuckled as he rose to his feet. He ruffled his brother's hair on his way past.

"Not yet, no," Jace told him and then he followed Aegon into the hallway. He grabbed Aegon's arm and dragged him further into the apartments when Aegon paused by the hidden door.

His room. Jace dragged him into his bedchamber. Closing the door behind them and then slowly turning around, leaning back against the wood. He tilted his head, eyebrow quirking up.

"How did you end up on the Small Council?" Jace asked and Aegon growled, chin dropping to his chest.

"I don't know, can you please focus on the important issue?!" Aegon scrubbed his hands down his fast.

Jace laughed, hollow and sharp. His eyes narrowed, "Well, apparently the hand cares who I fuck. Maybe you being on the Small Council is the important issue."

Hands falling to his sides, Aegon raised his head enough to level a glare on his nephew. Jace glared back. Arms crossing, Aegon looked away, "My mother asked, probably, but I don't know. The king was weirdly happy about it."

Humming, Jace pushed off from the door. He took two steps, stopping directly in front of Aegon. A hand rose up to pull his chin back and Aegon let him do it.

Their eyes met again. Jace's hand cupped his face. Aegon flushed. His fingers twitched as his arms fell to his sides. Jace took another step. Their chests bumped together, their lips hovering close.

"Joffrey is five," Jace whispered, hand dropping from Aegon's face, "I knew one of you would tell her eventually." His lips quirked up and Aegon blinked. "I thought it would be Joffrey, but he's proven much better at keeping a secret than I expected."

"I didn't even know it was a secret," Aegon frowned, swallowing thickly as Jace took hold of his hips.

He stumbled back as Jace pushed him. The desk behind him caught Aegon by surprise and then Jace was between his legs. And then Jace was kissing him.

Their mouths slotted together, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. Aegon whined, clutching at Jace as his nephew devoured him. Hands sliding into dark hair, Aegon wrapped himself around Jace, arching up to press their bodies against one another.

As always, the heat flared, an overhwelming burn that consumed him. Jace was just as relentless. His kiss unending, fierce. Aegon's lungs were burning, his chest tight.

"Do your whores kiss you like that, uncle?" Jace ripped his head back with a gasp, hand fisting in Aegon's hair. His eyes were dark, angry. They were boring into Aegon's soul. His gut twisted just to look at them. Cock stirring.

"I don't know..." Aegon breathed out, gulping down air, sneering, "...does Cregan want something different?" Jace snarled. Aegon moaned as his nephew kissed him again. Hard.

When he pulled back a second time, Jace tugged him from the edge of the desk. Aegon followed him. Stumbling after him, clinging around his neck, fingers scrappjng over his scalp. His nerves were buzzing, his head cloudy.

"You have to go," Jace grunted, shoving him against the door. He rocked his hips and Aegon whimpered. Head falling foreward to rest on Jace's shoulder, his hands fisted in his nephew's doublet as the younger man huffed, "Wouldn't want the hand to find out you warned me, would you?"

"Jace..." Aegon looked back up at him, but Jace was already reaching for the door knob. His nephew basically threw him through the door hidden in the hallway. He pushed at a stone on the outside and the door closed with a snap.

Aegon stared at it, the stone. He couldn't see Jace. Not anymore. But he didn't hear his footsteps departing. His chest ached. The warmth on his skin receded slowly.

Rhaenyra's voice cut through the silence. Jace moved. His footsteps echoing in Aegon's head. He slid down to sit inside the walls as Rhaenyra greeted Cregan with a small laugh.

It was impressive, how quickly she got him to leave without actually asking. Baela ducked out with Joffrey, physically picking him up and carrying him to the nursery as Jace and Rhaenyra began to argue.

Another set of footsteps paused outside the stone door. Aegon stiffened. Daemon's voice was low, "Your mother is looking for you, Aegon."

He should've gone to see her. He didn't.

Chapter Text

"Prince Aegon?" Cregan called out to him and Aegon froze. He'd only slipped from the hidden passageways to grab his cloak. Hand fisting in the chilly fabric, Aegon sighed. He shouldn't have bothered.

"Lord Stark," Aegon turned to find Cregan standing in the center of the training yard. He sighed, arms crossing, "Still stiff are you?"

Eyebrow arching, Cregan straightened, "I can't help but think I have offended you somehow, your grace."

Aegon flushed, "No." He rolled his shoulders back, "I'm quite difficult to offend." Cregan chuckled.

"I would beg to differ, your grace, given what I witnessed on the evening I met you," Cregan hummed, inclining his head forward in a slight bow.

The man approached him, perching himself on the half wall. He glanced up at the sky. Clouds were swirling. It would snow soon. Cregan smiled. No doubt reminded of home.

"I spoke truthfully, your grace, when we met," Cregan told him, lowering his chin to meet Aegon's eyes, "I have someone back home, waiting for me. My only interest in King's Landing is friendship."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind, should I find myself interested in friendship," Aegon snapped. He wrapped his cloak over his shoulders.

The fabric was thick, but not quite warm. Not with how long it had sat outside on the cold stone. Aegon frowned as he clasped it.

Perhaps it was a poor decision, antagonizing a man to whom half of Westeros owed allegiance. But Cregan had very clearly aligned himself with Jace, and thus Rhaenyra. His grandfather wouldn't care if Aegon was nice to him.

"I would count myself quite lucky, if you did," Cregan drawled, arms crossing as he leaned back slightly, "I have seen the way you defend those you care about, few as they may be."

"If you are referring to my fight with Daemon, that was hardly as impressive as everyone is making it seem," Aegon huffed, arms crossing to mirror Cregan as he narrowed his eyes.

The northerner ducked his head, shoulders shaking, "I was referring to this afternoon, actually, with Joffrey and the guards." Aegon's brow furrowed. "You're quick to draw the eye, and the attention. An interesting reflex, your grace."

Throat bobbing, Aegon turned away. He waved, calling over his shoulder, "Have fun building your *friendships,* Lord Stark." Halfway down the corridor, he spun around, lips twisting into a smirk, "Unless you'd like to see the Street of Silk."

Cregan's eyes fluttered. A blush rose on his cheeks faintly and Aegon snorted. He walked slowly backwards, sighing dramatically.

"I thought not," Aegon clicked his tongue, shrugging, "Oh well, be sure to tell Prince Jacaerys I offered though, when you report back to him." Cregan stiffened, nose wrinkling.

Rolling his eyes, Aegon turned back around. He ducked back into the passageways two hallways later.

The Street of Silk was not the destination he had in mind, but Aegon had enjoyed the way Cregan had reacted. No doubt his nephew would be furious.

It was only fair though. Jace had made a dig about Aegon seeing whores, so Aegon had embarrassed his lover. Or perhaps his would be lover. Cregan was quick to blush, maybe men were a bit slower to find the brothels in the North.

"Hello, my love," Aegon entered Sunfyre's lair and his dragon launched himself towards Aegon. Letting himself be inspected, Aegon smiled as Sunfyre nudged at each of his limbs, smelling him slowly.

With a screech, the golden dragon coiled half around him as Aegon walked deeper into the cavern. Sunfyre was alone this time. No Tyraxes. No Vermax.

"Not playing house today?" Aegon asked as he sunk to the ground. He leaned into Sunfyre's side as the dragon curled around him properly, tail whipping around to block his exit and head sinking down to rest beside him.

Sunfyre's nostrils flared, but he otherwise ignored Aegon's comment. He tilted his head back. Sunfyre cooed and Aegon raised his hand to the dragon's scales.

Worry floated in his periphery. Concern.

Aegon pulled his knees up and closed his eyes, "I know. I... I shouldn't have left like that, last time." He sniffled. "But Tyraxes needed you more than I did."

A low rumble vibrated against his back.

"I had Aemond. It was fine," Aegon curled up against Sunfyre. He turned, cheek pressing to rough scales, "I... I was just confused."

He was more confused now. It was one thing to have Jace try to seduce him drunk. It was another when his nephew had heen sober. And then whatever had happened in his room.

Was it a game? A curiosity? Jace was certainly interested in him physically.

Aegon tugged at the clasps of his doublet. A flutter of wings and Aegon was enclosed under Sunfyre as well. Fully cacooned really. His dragon's wing creating a canopy that plunged him into the dark, with just the glow of Sunfyre's eyes as company.

Perhaps that was what made it so easy for Aegon to tug his arm from his sleeve and untie the wraps knotted at his wrist. He sighed as the air hit the skin of his forearm.

His opposite hand wrapped around it and Aegon shuddered as his palm made contact with the pale flesh. Sunfyre bumped him with his maw and Aegon laughed. It came out wet.

"Yeah, it's silly," Aegon mumbled, reaching out to drape his whole arm over golden scales. Sunfyre's nostrils flared and warm air enveloped him.

The scales were particularly rough over his forearm, against the skin which touched so little. Aegon dropped his hand into his lap and began to trace his mark. The dragon and the seahorse.

"Do you think he actually... actually likes me?" Aegon whispered, eyes fluttering as tears slid down his cheeks.

They were friends. Or had been, before... before Aegon had told him they needed to avoid each other. Before Aegon had reminded him that half the court thought he was a bastard.

Jace had forgiven him for it once, on Driftmark. Or. Aegon assumed he had. They'd never spoken about it. Never discussed it. Simply ignored it.

And now there was this... this sexual attraction. Jace knew about Aegon's interest, had exploited it twice now. But before... he'd been the one to initiate, even that first time. Drunk and demanding.

What were they now?

"He called me beautiful..." Aegon pressed his thumb over Vermax and pushed down, hissing as the mark throbbed. Sunfyre screeched. Aegon sobbed, "I know."

Joffrey called him beautiful too. It wasn't... it didn't mean Jace wanted him. Not truly. It couldn't. His nephew was just... just angry.

"I let others fuck me when he wanted to," Aegon dropped his arm and buried his face in golden scales, "And now he's just fucking with me because I denied him."

That had to be it. Aegon inhaled, breathing shakily. Jace was just angry. This was his revenge, his torture. The penance he was demanding of Aegon.

"I am not a toy," Aegon exhaled sharply, eyes snapping open. He wiped at his face and Sunfyre nudged at his arm. With a scoff, Aegon ignored his mark, "He might be my soulmate, but that doesn't mean he can play with me like this."

It was bad enough Aegon was caught in Otto's web, playing this stupid game for a throne he didn't want. He wouldn't let Jace ensnare him too. Wouldn't let Jace use him - his body or his position.

"He smiled at me," Aegon whispered, leaning forward to press his forehead to Sunfyre's maw, "The king smiled at me. When he put me on the Small Council."

Maybe his mother asked, maybe Otto, but the king had done it. His father had put him on the Small Council.

Sunfyre cooed as Aegon took slow breaths. His chest ached, but not like it had when he was bruised. This was different. Faint. Twisting.

Hope. He felt hope, welling up in his chest as he had when he he was younger, when the king had come to observe their training. It was silly. Most definitely useless and born of nothing.

Nothing but a smile.

"They don't really care," Aegon reminded himself, voice firm. He shoved the hope down, "They don't. I'm just... just a passing fancy."

Jace. The king. It was all the same.

"I'm useless," Aegon shuddered as he said the words, as he forced himself to remember the truth. Sunfyre huffed.

He curled up by his dragon and let himself drift off. Somewhere in the castle, his little brother had no doubt raged with worry and his mother had descended on Aemond to reassure him, to fret over her favorite son.

They surely preferred that, looking out for one another rather than putting up with him. Dealing with his constant disobedience.

"It hurts," Aegon cried into Sunfyre's scales, biting at his lip, "It'll never be real and it hurts." He couldn't stay away. Jace had touched him and Aegon... Aegon had given in immediately. Just like the hope blooming in his chest over a stupid smile.

His fantasies would never be real. His father would never truly care and Jace would never love him. That was the truth. The reality.

"I won't fall for it," Aegon hissed, face burrowing into Sunfyre's side. He clenched his jaw, expression twisting, "I won't let them toy with me!" Sunfyre whined. His hands fisted against his chest as he wrapped himself into a ball.

The only one who heard him sob was Sunfyre, and his dragon merely coiled tighter. The wing over their heads lowering. Aegon took stuttering breaths, eventually.

"He used me to deliver a message," Aegon admitted in a quiet whisper as Sunfyre nudged at his side. He stared at his arm.

A growl rumbled in Sunfyre's throat as Aegon traced his soulmark again. Jace was his soulmate, yes, but that didn't mean he was Jace's. Maybe Jace cared about him, but maybe Aegon was just his favorite toy.

One he didn't want to share.

"I ought to deliver my own message," Aegon hummed, thumb pressing down on Vermax's face again. He couldn't feel it. Not properly. Not with how cold he was.

Sunfyre pushed his maw into Aegon's lap. He looked up into bright eyes. Warm. Adoring.

"Tomorrow, we're going flying," Aegon told him, lips twisting into a smirk. He pressed a kiss to Sunfyre's scales as the golden beast tittered.

When Aegon returned to the Red Keep, the castle was quiet. Nearly every torch and candle extinguished. He'd managed a few hours of sleep with Sunfyre. Not much, but enough.

He didn't bother returning to his room. Aegon would just have a servant fetch him some clean clothes in the morning.

"Your grace," the kingsguard at the entrance to his mother's apartments bowed his head as Aegon approached him. He gave the knight a quick nod before slipping inside.

The rooms were quiet. His footsteps echoed in the hallway. The guards posted at each of his siblings doors told him exactly where he would find his mother.

Aegon opened Daeron's door to find her asleep on the bed in his brother's room, a letter clutched in her hands, held to her chest. He settled on the floor, back against the side of the bed. His mother did not wake when his head fell back against the mattress. She slept on, till the morning sun was rising and the faintest bit of light was streaming in through the windows.

"You're back," his mother's whisper was quiet, her soft voice cracking. A shaky hand combed through his hair. He tilted his head back and flashed a sharp smile.

"You'll never be rid of me, mother," Aegon told her with a laugh, "I'm like an infection the maesters can't identify, I always come back." Her lips twitched, pursing as he turned his head in to her touch. "How's Daeron?"

She'd read the letter Daeron had sent to Aegon. Her smile had been so bright Aegon had let her keep it even. The one in her hand was offered to him in kind.

"His lessons are enjoyable, but he cannot fly, with the winter winds picking up, and he's growing quite bored."

"On this matter, I can relate," Aegon hummed, reading over his brother's words.

He described their cousins a bit. Ormund's sons and the children of their mother's older brothers. All of them kind and decent to him, no doubt answering a specific query from their mother. Lyonel was whining, it seemed, as Garmund had gotten sent to be a ward at Highgarden instead of him.

"Will you require me in court today?" Aegon asked as he handed her back the letter. His mother shook her head, sitting up slowly. She tugged her dressing gown tight around her body.

Her throat bobbed and she smiled, "The king has requested I break my fast with him this morning. We will attend court together, after."

Aegon hummed, head dropping forward. His chin tucked against his shoulder, "What about grandfather?" A kiss was pressed to the top of his head.

"You did well," his mother breathed out, "He wishes to speak with you, but... you did well." A hand squeezed at his shoulder and then she rose from the bed. "I must go prepare."

The door clicked behind her and Aegon sat, silent and still, in his brother's room. He looked up at the wooden dragon Daeron had left behind. His chest tightened.

It would all be worth it, if he got Daeron back.

Eyes squeezing shut, Aegon swallowed thickly before rising to his feet. Pain shot through his thigh and he grunted, biting at his lip to muffle a scream. Sitting as he had, first with Sunfyre and then here, his muscles had grown stiff.

Inhaling sharply, Aegon made his way to the bath. By the time the sun had risen properly, he was on his way to Rhaenyra's wing. Ser Arryk his shadow, only two steps behind.

"That is a concerning smile, your grace," the kingsguard arched a brow when a servant stopped him with a message. Aegon's grin spread only wider as he read it. "Should I fetch a less conspicuous cloak?"

"Not today, Ser Arryk," Aegon chuckled, arms spreading wide as he walked backwards. If his smirk twisted and his eyes brightened, well, it was not often that things aligned so perfectly for him. "I merely have a few errands to run. Perhaps with a bit of company." He threw his head back, cackling, "If my dear sister will allow it."

Chapter Text

It surprised him, how quickly he was led back to the dining room when he arrived at Rhaenyra's rooms. She was sat at the head of the table and she smiled brightly when he entered, "This is certainly a treat, little brother, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Aegon inclined his head forward as he surveyed the room. Rhaenyra kept breakfast quite informal it seemed.

Her youngest sat in Daemon's lap beside her, his uncle still in his sleep shirt. Jace and Luke were much the same on her other side, hair rumpled. Baela and Rhaena each had covers over their own curls.

His younger cousin had been quick to check her dressing gown was tied properly when he entered the room. The only one with a sense of decorum, his mother would say. They are Targaryens after all.

A second sweep of the table proved that the one he was looking for was also the only one missing from the table. Aegon puckered his lips in a pout and Luke immediately snickered, already turning his head to smirk at Jace.

"I was rather hoping to steal my favorite nephew away for the day, actually," Aegon tilted his head as he met Rhaenyra's gaze. Her eyes narrowed, chin rising.

"Which nephew would that be?" Rhaenyra asked him, as if Jace hadn't immediately clenched his jaw at Aegon's words.

"Joffrey, obviously," Baela drawled, eyes rolling as Luke squawked. He held a hand to his chest, giggling.

Luke scoffed rather dramatically, sitting up properly, spine straight and head back, "Maybe he came for me, Baela, you don't know!"

Both of them shot Jace a sly look after that, Rhaena too. But Aegon ignored his eldest nephew entirely.

Aegon circled the table and ruffled Luke's hair with a chuckle, "Not this time, no." Aegon perched on the edge of the table beside Rhaenyra, putting Jace directly at his back, "I'm picking up something in the city. It's for Joffrey, so I thought he might like to come with me."

"You're picking up something for Joffrey?" Daemon squinted at him and Aegon hummed, stealing a bit of food from Rhaenyra's plate. She leaned on her armrest, surveying him.

"It's entirely practical and appropriate," Aegon told her, bowing his head low before he reached across the table to swipe something from Daemon's plate this time.

His uncle growled and Aegon made eye contact as he swallowed. The babe in his lap giggled. Daemon frowned as the boy made grabbing hands for Aegon.

"Shall I find something for you too while I'm out, hmm?" Aegon asked, exaggerating his expression to elicit another giggle. He stole a roll from the center of the table and looked back to Rhaenyra, "I could have him back by lunch, if you like, Joffrey only has a half day of lessons, yes?"

"Yes," Rhaenyra confirmed, head tilting forward. She pursed her lips, "You'll have a kingsguard with you?"

Aegon nodded emphatically, head bobbing as he gestured back towards Ser Arryk near the door, "He's even wearing that horrid white cloak that draws so much attention!" The kingsguard coughed to hide a laugh and Rhaenyra sighed.

"Uncle Aegon!" Joffrey stopped in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth falling open. He tugged his hand free from his nanny to race across the room, "Are you here to eat with us?!"

"I'm stealing food from Daemon, yes," Aegon leaned over to pick his nephew up. He lowered his voice to a faux whisper as he sat the boy in his lap, "But I'm really here to cause mischief, would you like to help?" Joffrey giggled and Aegon nodded towards Rhaenyra, aiming his best pleading eyes at her. Joffrey immediately followed his lead, puckering his lips in a pout.

Head ducking, Rhaenyra chuckled, "You don't even know what he's asking, Joff." She looked up at him then, gaze pointed.

Joffrey shrugged, settling back against Aegon's chest with his chin up, "We're causing mischief!" Aegon bit his lip as Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed on him again. He hid half his face in Joffrey's wild curls.

"Good mischief?" Aegon offered and the entire table behind him choked. Half of them scoffed. He recognized the snicker from his kingsguard.

"Not at all suspicious, nephew," Daemon drawled as he leaned back in his seat.

His fingers twitched up towards his throat. The bandage at his neck was thin and had been well hidden by a high collar at the Small Council meeting the day before, but it was now quite obvious. Aegon didn't look at it.

"You'll actually stay with your kingsguard yes?" Rhaenyra arched a brow and Aegon nodded. "He will be with you the entire time?"

"Every moment," Aegon promised and Joffrey perked up, eyes fluttering as he looked from his mother's pursed lips to Aegon's wide eyes.

Inhaling deeply, Rhaenyra nodded, "Alright, Joff can go with you." His nephew gasped, head snapping back.

"Where are we going?!" Joffrey wiggled in his lap and Aegon hid a wince in his hair before putting the boy down. He crouched beside the table as Joffrey bounced on his feet.

"That!" Aegon tapped his nose, grinning widely, "Is part of the surprise, but we'll be going out into the city, so..." He looked down at Joffrey's night clothes, "...you might want something a bit warmer."

He chuckled as his nephew ran off, rising back up to lean on the table again. Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes on him. Aegon rubbed absently at his thigh and nicked something else from Daemon's plate.

"Would you perhaps like to join us properly?" Daemon clicked his tongue.

Aegon stole a bit of fruit and popped it into his mouth with great exaggeration. The babe in Daemon's lap mimicked him, getting juice all over his hand. Aegon chuckled as the boy giggled and smeared his palm across Daemon's cheek, "I'm not actually hungry, uncle, but thank you."

"You are a proper menace, Egg," Rhaenyra hid a smile in her hand as she brought a goblet of water to her lips.

"Well, the title of Realm's Delight was already taken," Aegon stood with a low bow. He circled around behind Jace without looking at him to drape himself over Luke's chair.

With a long stretch, he snagged Rhaena's goblet with a wink. She flushed as he drank from it. Some sort of citrusy juice he wasn't a particular fan of, but it had flavor, and Daemon was scowling at him now. Wins all around.

"Besides, court would be rather boring without me," Aegon hummed, holding the goblet just above Luke's head. His nephew tilted his head up to glare at him when he set the base in his curls. Aegon grinned, purring in Valyrian, "Did you not request my attention, sweet Lucerys?"

"So, where are you taking Joff?" Baela pipped up, cutting off what would surely have been a very adorable attempt at a rebuttable from Luke.

Eyebrow arching, Aegon sipped at Rhaena's drink, "It's a surprise. As I said." Baela squinted at him. He lowered his voice, whispering across the table, "I'm actually quite good at surprises, when I'm aware of them."

Baela pursed her lips and her gaze flicked towards Jace. He stiffened, though Aegon still didn't look at him. His very presence was thick with annoyance beside him though. Anger coming off of him in waves.

The mark on his forearm twinged. Aegon's breath hitched as the sensation spread. He forced a laugh to hide it.

"But, you'll all see later, when we return to the Red Keep, triumphant," Aegon toasted her and Baela lowered her chin, her narrowed eyes growing sharp.

"Aegon..." Rhaenyra's voice was drowned out by Joffrey's stampeding footsteps. He rushed back into the room, shouting.

"Let's go! Let's go!" Joffrey tugged at his sleeve and Aegon laughed, properly this time. He ducked down to press a kiss to Joffrey's forehead. His chest felt lighter just looking at his nephew's excited eyes.

With a quick wave of his hand towards the table, Aegon asked him, "Do you want to eat something first? Or would you like to try a bit of street food while we're out?" Joffrey's eyes widened even further with glee and Aegon chuckled, "Got it. We'll make use of Ser Arryk's cloak yet!"

His kingsguard sighed, already bowing his head to Rhaenyra as Aegon took Joffrey's hand. The princess cleared her throat and Aegon straightened, eyes fluttering as he met her gaze.

"No tricks." Rhaenyra looked at him pointedly, lips twitching up and eyebrows low. Aegon felt his face flush with color.

"No tricks," Aegon promised, nodding sharply. He put his full attention on Joffrey then, "You have your cloak yes?"

His nephew had never been out of the Red Keep before. Not properly. Aegon picked him up after three steps outside the gate as Joffrey began clinging to his cloak. Arms were swiftly wrapped around his neck and his nephew spent the whole walk down Aegon's Hill trying to crane his neck to look around them without being seen.

A few children waved at him as they passed. Joffrey hid his face in Aegon's hair. Aegon rubbed a hand over his back, "I hadn't thought you so shy, Joff."

"I'm not shy," Joffrey said as he ducked his head against Aegon's chest. A group of men walking towards the keep paused to bow their heads. Ser Arryk waved them on.

"You certainly weren't shy when I first got back from the Stepstones," Aegon hummed, puckering his lips in thought. Joffrey smiled as Aegon teased him, "Quite the opposite, in fact!" Aegon winked at him, "I was very intimidated by how forward you were, nephew."

Joffrey giggled into his neck, "That's different!" He returned to watching the city around them.

The streets weren't too busy. Vendors and shops were all opening slowly around them. People rushed to and from, but it was not yet bustling.

"I knew you," Joffrey whispered gleefully, smile bright, "Jace read me lots of your letters. The parts mother said were 'appropriate.'" Joffrey cackled. "Sometimes he'd read the other parts too, when she wasn't listening."

"Did he?" Aegon's eyes fluttered. He smiled despite himself. A warmth prickling at his chest, "I didn't know that."

Nodding, Joffrey rambled on about all the things Jace had said about him. Aegon found his cheeks burning as Joffrey went on and on. His hair. His eyes. His laugh. His smile.

Apparently, Jace had said quite a lot about him, when he'd been away. Joffrey clung tighter to his neck.

"You're even better than he said though!" Joffrey chirped, pressing a kiss to Aegon's cheek, "You're the best uncle ever!"

"I will inform Aemond immediately upon our return," Aegon told him with a grin, squeezing him tight. He might also have bought him two of the oddly delicious mystery meat kebabs from the street vendor in the main square.

Ser Arryk furrowed a brow as they passed by the turn for the Street of Sisters. Aegon met his suspicious glance with a smirk. The kingsguard's eyes fluttered with actual confusion when Aegon led him into the leatherworker's shop near Cobbler's Square.

"Your grace," the shop owner bowed low, eyes wide when he caught sight of Ser Arryk. Joffrey was craning his neck again, glancing around as Aegon set him down.

"Ready for your surprise, Joff?" Aegon arched a brow, kneeling in front of the table. He poked Joffrey's side to gain his attention. His nephew straightened. He bit his lip, head bobbing up and down as his cheeks flushed with color.

With a quick nod from Aegon, the leather armor was pulled from the back. Joffrey's eyes widened as the man held up the chest piece.

"Your grandfather sent me my older riding leathers from the Stepstones," Aegon rested his chin on Joffrey's shoulder as he crouched beside him, one arm slung over his back, "So, you have battle-tested armor, my dear nephew."

"It has Tyraxes on it..." Joffrey whispered to himself. His hands rose to his mouth as he squealed in delight. They did little to muffle the cheerful noise.

Aegon nodded sharply, breathing out a nervous laugh as Joffrey continued to simply stare at the leathers, "I thought he might get jealous, if you were walking around with Sunfyre on your chest."

"Would you like to try it on, your grace?" the leatherworker asked and Aegon pursed his lips, eyebrows arching at his nephew. Joffrey jumped at the chance. He was beaming as they laced him into the armor and Aegon found his fingers grew steadier with every tug.

"It suits you, my prince," Ser Arryk inclined his head as he held Joffrey's cloak beside the door. Aegon laced a pair of vambraces around his arms. He squeezed lightly, smiling at his nephew.

Joffrey's fingers traced the central dragon and his palm ran over the dragon scales. His eyes shimmered. His lips trembled.

"Do you like it?" Aegon whispered once Joffrey was fully dressed in his new riding leathers. His nephew looked up from the dragon on his chest, blinking slowly. In a moment, he rushed Aegon, clinging to his chest.

"I love it!" Joffrey shouted, fingers digging in to Aegon's back as he held to him. He sniffled a bit, hiding his tears in Aegon's chest. His smile was blinding when he pulled a way.

The air in his lungs escaped in a short puff and Aegon picked his nephew up, spinning him around, "Excellent!" The joy he felt bubbling up warmed him, nearly so well as a whore might.

They laughed together, Joffrey's twinkling giggles had Aegon holding him even tighter. Eventually, he stopped spinning and Aegon kissed his forehead. Joffrey squirmed until he was set down again. He began to zip around the room, twisting and turning every which way.

"I do believe that is a satisfied customer," Aegon joked with the artisan. The man chuckled, inclining his head.

"Would you like to see the mock up for your other order, your grace?" The leatherworker disappeared into the back when Aegon nodded.

A tug on his sleeve had Aegon crouching once more and Joffrey rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, "Can we go to the Dragon Pit next? So I can show Tyraxes?" His palm was pressed to his chest, to the silver dragon that dominated the leather. Eyes wide, Joffrey did not have to pout long for Aegon to agree.

"As if I would ever keep a boy from his dragon. I have but one thing left to attend to here, and then, yes, we shall head to the Dragon Pit," Aegon told him, picking Joffrey up again as the artisan returned.

The vambrace placed on the table in front of them was decorated with the same dragon scale design as every Targaryen piece of armor Aegon had ever seen. At its center, however, was not the three headed dragon. Four individual dragons were depicted in a diamond pattern instead, wings outstretched. The smallest at the front, near the wrist.

"What's this for?" Joffrey asked as he leaned forward. His fingers traced the design as Aegon inspected it.

"It's for me and my siblings," Aegon explained, his own fingers tracing the dragons carefully. He nodded to the man waiting behind the table, "The design is perfect."

Bowing his head, the mock up was quickly retrieved and the leatherworker reached for his notes, "You said four sets, your grace? Painted black, I assume?"

"Two of them, yes. But one should be pale blue. The other in cobalt, as bright a blue as you can manage," Aegon requested, chin rising. The man agreed readily and, in short order, they were headed back towards the Street of Sisters.

"Are those vambraces for Aemond's nameday?" Joffrey nudged him as they walked. Aegon shrugged.

He tilted his head, "I suppose, if they're done in time, yes. But... I got one for all four of us, so I should probably get Aemond something just for him."

Joffrey nodded solemnly, brow furrowing, "Yeah, he already has to share his nameday. He should definitely get his own gift."

"Now, if only my little brother had interests beyond dragons and daggers, I might have some idea what to get him!" Aegon whined, head falling back with a huff.

His nephew giggled, "Well, the armor had dragons, so... that means you should get a dagger!" He clapped his hands over Aegon's shoulders.

Aegon winced and Joffrey stiffened. His gaze flicked to Aegon's shoulder as he pulled his hand away, "I thought you were healed now. Jace said-"

"I am, don't you worry," Aegon assured him with a quick kiss and a squeeze, "The skin is just a bit sensitive." Joffrey frowned. "Now, you got to see my surprise for my siblings, but you mustn't tell them."

He gave Joffrey a pointed look and then he aimed another at Ser Arryk. Both nodded sharply, but Joffrey laughing as Aegon squinted harder at Ser Arryk, lips puckering.

"You have my solemn vow, I will not tell a soul," Ser Arryk told them both, only then did Aegon hum. He clicked his tongue and Joffrey descended into giggles that lasted until they arrived at the Dragon Pit.

Here, his nephew was comfortable enough that he did not want to be carried. Aegon found he had to keep a tight grip on Joffrey's hand, in fact, as they wove through the underground caverns.

They found Tyraxes in Sunfyre's lair, along with Vermax. The green beast was without his rider, but he was no less snappish than usual. Sunfyre growled to keep the younger dragon in line as Tyraxes and Joffrey scampered over to each other.

While Aegon hadn't planned for Vermax, it did make it much easier to slip his own riding leathers on unnoticed with three dragons crowding the lair. A dragonkeeper had saddled Sunfyre as Aegon had requested before he left much earlier that morning.

"See, it's you," Joffrey pointed at his chest and Tyraxes nudged forward. He tittered and Joffrey laughed, "Soon, we'll be able to fly together, Ty! It's going to be amazing!"

Small hands grazed over rough scales and Joffrey bounced on his feet. Aegon couldn't help but smile. He approached his nephew, grinning ear to ear. With a quick glance towards Ser Arryk, Aegon lowered his voice, "Tyraxes might not be big enough to ride yet, but... we could take him up with us..."

Joffrey gasped as Aegon arched a brow. He tilted his head back towards Sunfyre. In a moment, he had Joffrey settled in the saddle and was climbing up himself.

"Prince Aegon, I don't think you're meant to be-" Ser Arryk tried to block them, eyes wide, but Sunfyre marched straight past him.

"We'll meet you back the Red Keep, ser!" Aegon shouted over his shoulder and then he ordered Sunfyre forward. They zipped through the caverns, Joffrey giggling as he held tight to the pommel. Aegon kept them low, leaning forward as Sunfyre moved quickly through the small spaces.

His breath caught as the ceilings seemed to squeeze smaller, though Aegon knew they were large enough for Caraxes and Meleys to maneuver without issue. Sunfyre was small enough he could have extended his wings.

The golden dragon kept his wings in though. Moving slower than he might have, had it just been Aegon on his back. Behind them, Tyraxes was following at his heels. His tail, actually.

Joffrey repeated the Valyrian word Aegon had whispered in his nephew's ear before they left. Tyraxes gave an excited shriek and then they burst out of the lairs into the main theater.

Sunfyre roared, shaking the ground, and Aegon gave the command, bracing himself in his saddle, one arm tight around Joffrey. "Up!"

Chapter Text

Any pain that might've stabbed through his thigh or raced up his spine was entirely worth it once they were in the air. Aegon felt drunk, his head spinning, his chest heaving. All of the weight on his shoulders was wisked away by the wind. Or, at least some of it.

"This is awesome!" Joffrey's shriek of joy was echoed by his silver dragon. The younger beast flew under Sunfyre's wings. He writhed in the air, twisting and turning, flapping his wings.

Aegon kissed the top of his nephew's head as he watched his joy play out in his dragon's actions. Sunfyre nudged the smaller dragon forward and Aegon whispered a command for Joffrey to repeat.

"Lead!" Joffrey spoke with his whole chest, nearly arching out of the saddle as the Valyrian left his lips. Aegon held him steady, dragging him back into the seat. Leather straps secured his nephew to the saddle, but Aegon would not take the risk, not with Joffrey being so young.

Tyraxes shot forward a few yards in front of Sunfyre, wings flapping quickly until Sunfyre snapped his jaws. The young dragon whined before setting a slow pace. Sunfyre flew behind him as they circled the city. Never too far from the Dragon Pit that Tyraxes couldn't glide back with ease if his wings grew tired.

Palm pressing to Sunfyre's scales, Aegon felt his shoulders relax as their emotions blended. Contentment merging into one as Joffrey pressed back into his chest.

"Uncle?" Joffrey tilted his head back, a smirk twisting at his lips, "Does Sunfyre know any tricks?"

A bark of laughter escaped his lips and Aegon threw his head back. "I promised your mother no tricks," Aegon bopped his nose and Joffrey whined, lips puckering into a pout.

It was cute. Not just the expression, but the way it mirrored Tyraxes. The boy and his dragon so clearly in sync. Just like him and Sunfyre.

Sagging forward, Aegon sunk into Joffrey, into his childish joy. His nephew stuck his arms out as they flew, giggling lightly. His happiness was relentless. Palpable. Aegon choked on his next breath, biting back tears.

"Are you okay, uncle?" Joffrey's head turned quickly, brows knitting together. A hand tentatively touched at his thigh, "Does it hurt?"

"No," Aegon lied, eyes closing as he hid his face in Joffrey's hair. His leg was throbbing, yes, but... "I just... you reminded me is all." Aegon kissed his cheek, "I miss it, when I was so... happy, like you."

He missed more than that. More than he could explain. Aegon had felt lighter, once, when he flew with Sunfyre. Free.

But that had been years ago. Before the Stepstones. Before Driftmark.

Joffrey frowned, "Aren't you happy now, uncle?" His laugh was sharp, wet. He sobbed against Joffrey's shoulders. Aegon smiled through his tears as Joffrey stared at him, eyes wide.

"Right now?" Aegon whispered, squeezing tighter, his hands fisted in Sunfyre's reins. "With you and Sunfyre? Flying?" He inhaled a shaky breath, "More than I can say."

A small hand came up to rest over his on the pommel of his saddle. Joffrey squeezed, "Luke is sad a lot too." His fingers twitched over Aegon's, "He says court is just really hard sometimes."

Nodding slowly, Aegon breathed out, "It is." He thought of his grandfather, of Vaemond, the rumors he'd reminded Jace about. "For Luke especially, I think."

"That's what Jace said too," Joffrey whispered, bottom lip trembling as he glared forward. His brow pinched, a near perfect replicate of Jace's scowl, "But they won't tell me why."

Aegon pressed his hand over Joffrey's chest, fingers splayed over a silver dragon. He sighed, "People say things. Cruel things. Wrong things. They say them to hurt others, or to... to cast doubts."

"They say we don't look like our father," Joffrey said flatly. Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. He nodded mutely. Joffrey sniffled, "Jace says that grandfather will fix it, since mother refuses to." His nose wrinkled and Joffrey looked up at Aegon, eyes wide, questioning, "Do you think he will?"

"I don't know what Jace is doing, or Corlys," Aegon shrugged. A frown tugged at his lips. Joffrey hummed. He glanced down to see his nephew wiping a hand over his face. Aegon kissed the top of his head, "I'm sure they're trying their best. Your mother too."

It made sense, he supposed. Corlys coming to put down the rumors, to reassert Luke as his heir. But Aegon wasn't sure that would fix anything.

Otto would keep the rumors circulating. A constant whisper that followed Rhaenyra everywhere. Even the king couldn't squash it, not for long. He hadn't taken any tongues, after all, like he promised.

If Rhaenyra was queen... Jace her heir. Treason was answered with death. Aegon swallowed. He expected it would start with his, and then the rumors would stop. If Otto survived, he'd lose everything, with Rhaenyra as queen.

"Jace said you took him flying on Sunfyre when he was my age too," Joffrey nudged him, knocking Aegon out of his head. Out of the future that awaited him. His nephew turned his head, a sly smile twisting over his face. Aegon chuckled, nodding as they passed near the Red Keep.

"We never left the Dragon Pit. Sunfyre wasn't big enough to fly with two people yet," Aegon explained and his nephew's grin grew. "By then, Vermax was big enough to fly himself, so..."

His nephew had been less interested in flying with him then. Excited to fly on his own dragon. Aegon felt a chill run up his spine.

Was that what was happening now? Did Jace only... only like him when Aegon held a purpose for him?

Vermax had only been big enough to fly for a few days before Rhaenyra and Laenor had left for Dragonstone back then. They hadn't flown together since. Not since Driftmark, not since-

"I heard him tell Baela he wanted you to fly with him on Vermax," Joffrey giggled, stretching up to whisper near his ear. Aegon's eyes fluttered. He squinted at Joffrey and his nephew grinned, "He said green makes your eyes shimmer like gemstones."

A blush rose on his cheeks as Joffrey told him everything his brother had said. His young nephew had missed a good chunk of Jace's meaning in whatever conversation he'd overheard, but Aegon did not.

Gaze flicking sideways, Aegon made eye contact with the beast who'd followed them from the Dragon Pit. Green scales reflected the light and Vermax sailed through the air just beneath them, only a few wingspans away.

His heart raced as he pictured himself sprawled across those scales, their rough texture digging in to his bare back. He cleared his throat, inhaling sharply as he focused back on Joffrey. On his little nephew cackling about how grumpy Jace had been recently.

"He's been stomping around and snapping at everything! Just like Vermax does!" Joffrey squirmed, giggling as Aegon's grip tightened when he lurched forward.

"Careful, if you fall, it'll be my head on a spike," Aegon reminded him, ruffling his his curls. Joffrey settled back down. His head lulled to the side for a moment before he perked back up.

Hands rose up to his lips as Joffrey snickered, "I can't wait to see his face when he sees me!" He preened, nearly vibrating in Aegon's lap, "My riding leathers match yours! He's gonna be so jealous!"

Aegon ducked his head, eyes narrowing, "Is that why you wanted them? He told me you were asking for some." Joffrey grinned.

"It's not the *only* reason," Joffrey admitted, fluttering his lashes. Aegon laughed and his nephew exploded outwards, limbs flailing as he bounced in the saddle, "But it's gonna be really funny! His face'll be as red as Caraxes!"

Vermax screeched as they passed over the Dragon Pit again. Aegon lifted his head to watch the beast snap his jaw at Arrax. The pale blue dragon flicked his tail back at the bigger dragon, but otherwise ignored him. Arrax settled into formation on Sunfyre's other side. His glide graceful, calm.

They were now at the center of a full chorus of dragons shrieking at one another. The trio of younger dragons playful and teasing. Sunfyre soared between them all. His maw rose higher, his neck arching. Aegon chuckled at his dragon's preening. He couldn't blame him, not with the satisfaction he felt rising in his chest. The pride.

"Could we go flying all together some time?" Joffrey asked, biting at his bottom lip. He tilted his head all the way back. Eyes wide and chin wobbling, "With Uncle Aemond and Aunt Helaena and all my brothers? And Baela? And mother? And Daemon too, so Rhaena can come?"

Aegon's gut twisted and it must have shown on his face as Joffrey's shoulders sagged. He groaned, grimacing as he made his excuses. "Maybe. But your mother is pregnant now. And Dreamfyre can be... difficult."

She was an absolute terror really. Around men especially. When left alone, Dreamfyre was fairly calm, but the moment Helaena was in her sight, the dragon grew viciously protective. And she was one of the oldest dragons. Only Vermithor and Vhagar were larger.

More importantly, only his sister could calm her and Helaena was not the most attentive rider. She flew regularly, yes, but nearly always alone. Absently gliding through the air. Half the time Aegon had risen up to join her on Sunfyre, he'd found his sister flying with her eyes closed.

"Mother said you and Helaena are taking Aemond flying for his nameday," Joffrey puckered his lips, lashes fluttering as he widened his eyes. "We could join you."

"It's your brother's nameday as well," Aegon reminded him, nudging his shoulder, "You'll be at the feast." His nephew whined, head falling forward. "You'd have to fly with someone else, anyway," Aegon clipped his chin, kissing his cheek, "Sunfyre and I like to tease Vhagar when I fly with my brother."

Arms gestured wide as Joffrey sulked, "I know! It looks so cool! You do all those flips and twists and dives!" He kicked his feet up and Sunfyre rumbled beneath them. Joffrey straightened up, sitting properly. He placed a hand to Sunfyre's scales, voice low and soothing, "You were really pretty, Sunfyre, sailing over the Blackwater."

Sunfyre's nostrils flared as he chuffed, a pleased whine slipping from the dragon's lips. Joffrey giggled and Aegon rolled his eyes.

He tickled at Joffrey's side lightly, squinting at the boy, "Did you not ask me earlier if we knew any tricks?" Joffrey shrieked with laughter again. Aegon gasped dramatically, "Knew the whole time didn't you? How did you know? This is only my second flight since I've been back."

"Jace and I watched you!" Joffrey told him breathlessly. His hand rose up to point at one of the towers on the Red Keep. "He took me with him, when you were flying with Uncle Aemond." He smirked up at Aegon, "It's Jace's favorite spot."

"Is it?" Aegon arched a brow and Joffrey nodded, already starting to giggle. Shoulders shaking as he tried to muffle his own laughter.

His nephew puckered his lips and shrugged, a wide and sloppy mimic of Aegon's own exaggerated movements, "He might even be up there right now..."

Clicking his tongue, Aegon leaned forward, squishing Joffrey to the saddle. His nephew drummed his hands on the pommel as Aegon huffed, "Well, we wouldn't want to bore him."

Sunfyre dropped lower as Aegon gave the command. They flew beneath Tyraxes, banking left as they circled the Red Keep. The three other dragons screeched. Arrax and Vermax falling into a line behind them as Sunfyre arched his neck up to bump Tyraxes.

With the youngest dragon perched atop Sunfyre just in front of his saddle, Aegon gave his next command, and Joffrey cackled.

"Dracarys!" Aegon yelled out and Sunfyre roared.

Golden flames burst from his lips. The flames curled around them. Tyraxes tittered and his rider squealed as they flew through the flames and the smoke. Aegon inhaled, body tingling as the warmth overtook him, spreading to his fingers, rushing into his lungs. His next breath was gasping, his chest heaving as he laughed.

Banking right, they flew over the castle and Aegon urged Sunfyre higher. A flash of Velaryon blue in the tower as they flew past proved Joffrey right. Aegon caught sight of Jace on their next pass.

Their eyes met briefly. His gut churned at the heat in his nephew's gaze. Not anger. Jace was grinning broadly, biting at his bottom lip as he turned to follow their path across the sky. His eyes were burning, bright and near golden.

Desire. Want. Aegon hid his whimper in Joffrey's shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, Jace wasn't alone. Cregan was with him. His nephew was pointing at them as he grinned at the northerner. His stomach twisted. Bile rose in throat.

"Ready for lunch?" Aegon swallowed, turning his head. He looked down at Joffrey and his nephew gave him a clipped nod, smile still bright. Aegon relished in it. In his joy.

They did one more pass, Sunfyre releasing a burst of flames before he dived beneath it. Vermax roared as his face was consumed by the golden fire. A larger ball of flames than Sunfyre had released the last time. The green dragon shrieked, snapping at Arrax as the younger dragon fluttered his wings, chirping as he followed Sunfyre closely.

When they sunk lower over the Red Keep, Joffrey perked up, neck craning as he looked about. The dragon yard was empty, as usual. It was separate from every other courtyard. A simple, large patch of dirt at the eastern side of the Red Keep.

It wasn't difficult to get to from the castle. There were multiple entrances. Plenty of gates connected it to the more populated parts, including the Great Hall. A few people were even visible along the edges, using the covered corridors around the yard as a short cut.

Aegon circled it twice, a warning to anyone lingering on the edges of his impending descent. Vermax provided no warning. The beast dived, slamming down with a huff. His claws dug into the dirt as he roared.

Anyone nearby had surely scattered.

"Well, I do believe they know we're here," Aegon chuckled and watched with one eyebrow arched as Arrax landed on the opposite side of the yard from Vermax.

The ground shook as Sunfyre landed between them, snapping briefly at Vermax. The green dragon snarled at the courtiers pouring into the corridors from the Grand Hall regardless.

Obviously, court had still been in session. The various lords and ladies were not nearly drunk enough to have been doing anything else.

"Down!" Joffrey called out to Tyraxes and the smallest dragon spread his wings. In a short glide, he flew from Sunfyre's back to Vermax's side.

He nudged at the other dragon's side. Bouncing and chirping, Tyraxes was a near mirror to Joffrey as Aegon undid the straps that secured his nephew to his saddle. Vermax was less patient than Aegon though, lips curling back.

Before Aegon could give Sunfyre any command, or Vermax could let loose the fire rising in his throat, Jace burst through the crowd, breathless as he shouted, "Vermax!" His dragon grumbled. Wings tucked in, claws pawed at the dirt. Jace narrowed his eyes on his beast.

Luke rushed past his brother, running for Arrax. His dragon much calmer. Arrax whined as Luke cooed, "What are you doing here, pretty boy?" Pressing a kiss to his dragon's maw, Luke could not have appeared more different from as his older brother if he tried.

Jace and Vermax were glaring at one another as the brunet approached the dragon, steps slow and measured. With a huff, Vermax lowered his head. Tyraxes whined, nuzzling at his neck until he managed to work himself underneath. Vermax growled.

It had no effect. Nor do Jace's obvious annoyance on the silver dragon's rider.

"Brother!" Joffrey stood up and Aegon was quick to grab him, steadying him as his arms flew up, "Look! I match Uncle Aegon!"

Dark eyes flicked over Joffrey, brow furrowing. They narrowed on the silver dragon on the boy's chest before snapping to Aegon's.

The scowl that twisted Jace's expression was matched by Vermax throwing his head back. Fire poured from his lips. Bright red and hot enough that Aegon startled, his skin pebbling as he took a deep breath. Heat was coiling in his gut and a flush bloomed across his face.

Members of the court were watching, their gazes heavy. Some curious. Some afraid. All of them vaguely amused as Joffrey cackled. He flung himself back into Aegon, "I told you his face would be funny!"

"I do believe you are even more a menace than me, Prince Joffrey Velaryon," Aegon drawled, wrapping his nephew tightly in his arms. He squeezed him to his chest, rocking him slowly as he peppered his face with kisses, "I love it!" Joffrey preened under his praise.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aegon saw Jace's nostrils flare. An action mimicked by his dragon. Tyraxes scurried away from Vermax, taking cover at Sunfyre's side. Aegon smirked.

"I also believe we've caused enough mischief for today," Aegon whispered into Joffrey's ear as he caught sight of Rhaenyra drawing closer. Flanked by Daemon and his mother.

"Can't we fly some more after lunch?" Joffrey whined, head falling back against Aegon's shoulder. His pout was spectacular. Excellent work, truly, but Aegon scoffed and inclined his head towards their mothers.

"I might be reckless, nephew, but I am not stupid," Aegon bopped his nephew's nose with his finger before tickling at Joffrey's sides so he would laugh again. The sound a balm on his fraying nerves.

His hands were shaking and Aegon couldn't quite figure out why. Still, he managed to sit up properly and bow his head as Rhaenyra paused a respectful distance away.

Aegon raised his voice to be heard over the dragons, "As promised, I am returning Joffrey for lunch, your grace." Behind Rhaenyra, Daemon chortled, head falling forward. His sister swatted at her husband.

His mother's brow furrowed as she paused a few yards away. Further back than Rhaenyra even, but Sunfyre snaked his head across the ground even so. Cooing softly at her, whining and whimpering as he snuck closer.

She sighed and raised a hand to rest her palm over his maw. Sunfyre purred and Aegon rolled his shoulders back, smiling at her. The queen shook her head. Rhaenyra turned hers, eyes fluttering as she watched his mother stroke Sunfyre's scales. A smile twitched at the princess' lips.

"Mother!" Joffrey squirmed out of his hold then and Aegon lurched forward to grab him. He hadn't undone the straps holding his own body to the saddle yet though.

Sliding down Sunfyre's side, Joffrey shrieked with laughter. Tyraxes rose up to catch him, slowing Joffrey's descent with his snout, and the boy landed on the ground with little more than a huff. Immediately, he raced towards his mother, skipping really.

"Look!" Joffrey patted at his chest. "Uncle Aegon gave me his old riding leathers!" Joffrey was jumping up and down, completely ignorant to the panic that had risen in Aegon's head.

It refused to abate now. Screaming at him as his heart raced. He swallowed thickly, hands squeezing in the reins.

Joffrey tugged on Rhaenyra's hand as he pointed up at Aegon, "We even match! With Tyraxes and Sunfyre!"

"I see that, my love!" Rhaenyra smiled down at Joffrey, bending slightly to cup his face in her hands. "I take it you had fun with your uncle?" she asked with a chuckle.

With a sharp nod, Joffrey agreed quickly, "We didn't do any tricks though, like when he flies with Uncle Aemond." He puckered his lips, almost pouting, but then his hands flew up, "But we did fly through fire! It was so cool!" Aegon grimaced as Rhaenyra's gaze snapped to him.

"Tiny fire!" Aegon coughed, clearing his throat. He reached for the pommel of his saddle. Throat bobbing, he waved towards Jace and his dragon, "We saved the proper fire for teasing Vermax."

"Uh-huh," Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes on him and Aegon looked pointedly away. She focused back on Joffrey as his nephew continued his long commentary, detailing all the things he'd seen on their walk through King's Landing. Joffrey spared no details, not stopping for even a moment.

Aegon's gaze landed on Vermax then. The beast was eyeing him out of his periphery as Aegon tried to breathe normally. He was far enough the courtiers probably couldn't tell, but Aegon could feel every eye on him.

Watching. Judging. Even Vermax. Aegon squeezed tighter at the pommel, knuckles white.

Jace was speaking to Vermax in a low voice. Soft and sweet. The words weren't audible, not at this distance, but Aegon focused on them. On the cadence of his nephew's Valyrian as he calmed both him and Vermax.

Maybe it was all three of them, really, given the tension in his nephew's shoulders. Aegon inhaled deeply and turned his head back towards Rhaenyra. Towards the court. He could not appear weak. Not now.

Daemon caught his eye, head tilting. His uncle took a step closer and Sunfyre reared his head. Vermax growled, rising up. Jace went quiet, turning his head to glower at the man, same as his beast.

Hands up, Daemon pivoted, heading for Luke instead. His nephew flashed Daemon a quick smile as the man squeezed at his shoulder.

"I got to have two kebabs from this cart at the main square too!" Joffrey pulled on Rhaenyra's hand again, rocking backwards on his heels. The only one unfazed by the dragons posturing. "It was really delicious!"

Many of the various courtiers listening were making vaguely horrified faces. Whether that was because Vermax hadn't lain back down or because of what Joffrey said, Aegon couldn't guess.

Most had likely never ventured outside the castle properly, not without a cart or a large escort. Even those that frequented the Street of Silk were unlikely to buy from street vendors. Aegon had caused quite a stir when he first started going out by himself and asked the cooks to recreate something he'd gotten while exploring the Hook.

It would be funny, if Aegon's stupid hands would stop shaking. He tugged on the collar of his doublet. His chest was tight. His throat bobbing.

"Can Tyraxes stay for lunch?" Joffrey finally took a breath, shoulders sagging.

Rhaenyra chuckled and Aegon caught his mother smiling softly at the two of them, her lashes fluttering.

"No, Tyraxes has to have lunch at the Dragon Pit," Rhaenyra beckoned for Daemon as she ruffled Joffrey's hair with her other hand. The excitement was wearing off as his nephew yawned mid-whine. Rhaenyra laughed, kissing his forehead, "Perhaps a nap, hmm? After lunch?"

A quick nod was exchanged before Daemon swooped in to pick the boy up. Joffrey went slack in his arms. His cheek pressed to Daemon's shoulder as his eyelids sagged. Joffrey waved to him, "Bye uncle!" His voice cut through some of the buzz in Aegon's head, just as his brother's had. He smiled and Aegon waved back.

He was expecting shouting, perhaps a proper reprimand or a threat, once Joffrey was gone. None came. Rhaenyra actually smiled at him, inclining her head slightly forward, "You've made my son very happy, little brother, thank you."

Perhaps if he were not so jittery, his head not so loud, Aegon might have managed more than a weak smile in return. Might have paid more attention as Rhaenyra turned to his mother.

The queen startled as Rhaenyra took her head. His mother jumping slightly, her lashes fluttering. But her smile was bright too, as wide as Aegon had ever seen it. The two of them ducked their heads together. Their laughter light.

"I'll take Arrax back to the Dragon Pit," Luke called out, his dragon's wings already unfurling. He was in the air before anyone could say a word to stop him. Not that they would.

"Can you handle Tyraxes?" Jace's voice cut through and Aegon turned his head. He nodded slowly, swallowing thickly. Jace's eyes narrowed on him and Vermax growled, low and whiny. It sat heavy on Aegon's ears.

As Jace circled around to climb into his saddle, Aegon folded himself over the pommel of his saddle to whisper his command to Sunfyre. His words stuttering even as he clenched his jaw. His breaths grew heavier.

Nudging at Tyraxes, Sunfyre coaxed the younger dragon into the air. He followed Vermax, shrieking back at Sunfyre as they hovered in the air. Jace was waiting for him. Aegon bit hard at his bottom lip.

The noise in his head grew louder. Sharper. As if all the whispers he couldn't make out from the courtiers watching were now being shouted, drowning one another out.

"Up!" Aegon commanded, inhaling sharply. He braced, fingers numb as he held to his saddle.

Despite the heat now boiling his blood beneath his skin, Aegon shuddered as Sunfyre darted up. He muffled a scream by biting at the vambrace around his forearm.

"Fuck!" Aegon cursed as his vision blurred, the colors bleeding together. Sunfyre shrieked and Aegon heard Tyraxes yelp. The silver dragon flew past him as Vermax growled.

A voice called out to him, the Valyrian sharp, dripping with concern, but Aegon squeezed his eyes shut.

"Retreat," Aegon breathed out and Sunfyre shot through the air, leaving his nephews and the three dragons lingering in the sky around him behind.

Chapter Text

Aegon had never considered the fact that the dragon lairs beneath the pit were essentially just caves. The corridors were tunnels. Tall and wide and absolutely ginormous, but tunnels nonetheless.

Tunnels made of earth and stone, like the caves in the Stepstones. Aegon squeezed his eyes shut as his memories blurred with his present.

"Dragon Pit," Aegon reminded himself, clinging to Sunfyre's side as his dragon headed for his lair. He was shaking, clinging to his saddle with his head bowed to golden scales. He whimpered, "I'm in the Dragon Pit."

Sunfyre whined, wings fluttering out and Aegon's fingers curled into his reins. They weren't even the same as the ones from the Stepstones. The saddle either.

"I'm home," Aegon whispered, repeating himself over and over as he wrapped his hands around the pommel.

The tall pommel. The one on his riding saddle. A saddle he'd used since he was nine. It had more straps than any other, for when Aegon liked to fly upside down. There were no guards for his legs. A large seat allowed for passengers, which the saddle he'd used in the Stepstones had not.

Every difference was important. Each one a reminder. He was in the Dragon Pit. He was safe. The safest place in all of King's Landing, sitting on his dragon's back.

Hands shaking, Aegon tugged at his straps, releasing them as Sunfyre sunk into the corner of his lair. He coiled tight as Aegon tumbled sideways.

Pain shot through his leg as he fell to the ground and Aegon screamed. His fingers curled into the dirt. He took a shaky breath, eyes flicking around.

The stone around him was closing in. His vision growing sharper as he spun, the whole lair turning on his head. Chest heaving, Aegon squeezed his eyes shut again. Sunfyre nudged at his side and Aegon cried out. His dragon whimpered, pulling back.

"Make it stop!" Aegon pressed his face into the dirt, sobbing. His stomach churned. His chest was tight. He couldn't breath.

Sunfyre screeched. His roar shook the cavern and Aegon sobbed harder. Flames licked at his face, but he refused to open his eyes.

Everything was spinning, he knew it was. His head pounding, his heart racing. Every shuddering breath he managed to take had his limbs throbbing. There was screaming. He hoped it was in his head.

The flames weren't. Sunfyre kept thrashing and his flames were warm on his cheeks. Aegon spasmed, curling up on ground.

"Please make it stop," Aegon begged, fisting his hands in his hair. Daemon had done it before. Had made it stop. But Daemon was at the Red Keep.

A cut still healing on his throat.

Another roar from Sunfyre and Aegon's breath hitched. The chill of rain on his back, clothes sticking to his skin. Flying. He was flying. Aegon whined.

Bile rose in his throat as flames tickled at his face again. The scent of rot filled his nostrils. Musty and acrid. Bodies burning. Sulfur.

Aegon shivered as the walls shook, the air vibrating as a roar drowned out his other senses. A snarl ripped from Sunfyre's throat. His eyes snapped open.

The vibrant green of Vermax's scales overwhelmed him, it blurred over everything else, bleeding into Sunfyre's golden flames and the dark stone alike. A few stuttering breaths left him panting against the ground. Vermax consuming his entire vision as he roared. No flames. But a warmth rose on his cheeks just the same.

His head moved, the world tilting further, moving faster as his gaze was forced higher. Dark eyes met his, a furrowed brow. Plump lips pursed tight. Jace.

"Egg?" Jace cupped his face, kneeling in front of him, "Egg, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Aegon whined, mouth falling open as his face tingled. His touch was burning.

"No," Aegon choked out, hand rising to push uselessly at his nephew. He whimpered as the heat rushed through him. He sobbed.

Jace held tighter, "Egg!" An ache throbbing at the back of his head, Aegon's fingers dug into Jace's wrist as he took hold. He ripped one of the hands from his face.

"Don't touch me!" Aegon screamed at him and Jace startled back. Scrambling away, blood rushing in his ears, Aegon sobbed, "You can't touch me!"

Sunfyre's flames filled the lair and Jace jumped back, barely escaping as the stream of fire cut him off from Aegon. Back to the lair's wall, Aegon clutched at any support, palm scrapping over the rough stone.

He swallowed. The tightness in his chest ebbing away as he ripped the meat of his palm against the wall. Aegon gasped, wiping his hand across his face as he registered the tears sliding down his cheeks. All he managed to do was smear blood across his skin.

"Egg?" Jace called out again, voice cracking. He was visible.

The golden flames separating them gone, though a dark mark across the ground still remained. Along with the smoke and the soot.

Vermax was wrestling with Sunfyre, both of them snarling and whining in equal measure. Jace stood in the center of the lair, eyes wide and palms out, half crouched.

His head tilted, his voice low, "Egg, please, what's... what's happening?" His gaze flickered towards Sunfyre as his dragon whimpered. Vermax curled over him, wings spreading wide.

Arrax was there too, nosing at Sunfyre's maw as his dragon went limp. Aegon was just the same, on the opposite side of the lair. Still shaking. Breaths shuddering.

But the world was still. Too sharp and too bright, yes, but still. Not turning or flipping or spinning. Aegon bit his lip.

"I... I don't know. I wasn't listening, when Daemon explained it," Aegon managed to spit out, throat bobbing. He ducked his head. Eyes squeezing shut again.

"Should- should we go get him?" Luke's voice came from the entrance and Aegon's head snapped to the side.

His younger nephew was fine. The soot on Jace's face and doublet from Sunfyre's flames were absent from his round face. The way his pupils trembled, the fear in his eyes... Aegon choked on another sob as he shook his head, "I fucking attacked him!"

"He could help? Couldn't he? If he knows-"

"No!" Aegon shrieked and Sunfyre's chest rumbled. Vermax tensed. His nephews did too, heads turning towards the dragon as Aegon sobbed.

His grandfather was finally pleased with him. If he asked Daemon for help, if the court found out...

"I can't be weak," Aegon mumbled to himself, clawing at the dirt. His head fell back. The ceiling spun as he cried, "Can't be weak."

"You're not weak," Jace huffed and a hand was cupping his face again. Aegon froze as Jace pulled his head down, forcing eye contact.

Everything snapped into place. Jace had brown eyes, dark and nearly golden when they reflected light. But there was no light in that moment. Not with their faces so close together, with Jace's breath warm on his skin.

They were an almost inky black. The faintest hint of violet around the edges. Aegon's breath hitched.

A thumb rubbed over his cheek and Jace repeated himself, voice firm, "You're not weak, Egg." A faint smile twisted at his lips. "You're strong. Like your dragon. Strong and stubborn and beautiful."

"Don't-" Aegon croaked, eyes squeezing shut. He ducked his head to the side. His fingers twisted in Jace's doublet as he raised his hands, his blood smearing across the soft fabric, staining the blue fabric with red.

He whimpered as Jace's other hand rose to his throat, squeezing at the back of his neck. Lips ghosted over his forehead, "You're strong, Egg." Jace's whisper had a shiver climbing up his spine.

Warm. His nephew was so warm, his heat beating back the chill that was threatening to overtake him again. The tingling numbness looming beneath his skin, lingering in his fingertips and toes.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" Jace was knelt in front of him, crowding him. His hands grazing over his body, down his chest.

Aegon whimpered. He wanted... wanted to let him. Wanted to let Jace touch him. Let Jace take him.

It would feel good, the pleasure driving out his thoughts, replacing all the lingering panic in his head.

Was it really any different that what he normally did? Jory and Gendry, the whores. Jace wanted to fuck him, he wanted Aegon, wanted his body spread out on Vermax. Aegon could let him, could let Jace drown out the hurt with pleasure.

He could let Jace use him. Just... just this once. Let himself have what he wanted.

With a whine, Aegon shoved at his nephew's chest. He glared at him, voice shaking as much as he was, "Don't touch me!"

Eyes wide, Jace fell back, sprawled out on the ground a few feet away. Shock colored his face. His mouth fell open, "Egg?"

He didn't really care. Aegon squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out his face. Reminding himself. Jace didn't care. Jace just... just wanted to use him.

Use him. Like everyone else. Like Otto, like the king. The stupid lords who all wanted a little more influence, more power. Wanted him to sit the throne and raise them up.

Fuck. That's all he was. A tool or a weapon. A prince for a throne, a rider for a dragon. A pretty face for his nephew to fuck.

His nephew wanted to use him, just like Aegon did all the whores. Like the knights in the Stepstones. Aegon was just a tool. A means to an end. Like he had been when he told Rhaenyra about Corlys.

"I'm not your whore," Aegon snarled, lips curling back as he pinned his nephew with his gaze. He scowled, pulling his legs up to his chest, "You don't get to touch me!"

Jace's cheeks flared red. "I wasn't trying to-" He choked, eyes fluttering. His gaze flicked towards Luke. Aegon didn't. He kept his eyes on Jace.

His chest ached. The chill returned. The numbness. Aegon suppressed a shiver, throat bobbing. He wouldn't be used. He could... he could handle this. He didn't need Jace. He didn't.

"Egg, your hand..." Jace sat up, eyes snapping to Aegon's palm as his arms rose up.

"Go away!" Aegon screamed at him, body shaking. He inhaled sharply. His breaths stuttering as he watched Jace startle at his words.

Sunfyre whined, but he was well ensconced on the other side of the lair, lying at the center of a pile of dragons. Vermax lay on top of him. Arrax at his side. Tyraxes had come at some point, coiling around Sunfyre's maw, nudging at him sadly.

Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. This was his fault. Sunfyre was upset, hurting, and it was his fault. Aegon sobbed, arms wrapping around his head, "I can't do anything right."

"What do we do?!" Luke's attempt to whisper was wholly useless. His voice high, shrieking. That was his fault too. The tremor in his nephew's voice. His panic.

Curling up, the world tilted again and Aegon's gut twisted. Smoke lingered in the air. Bile rose in his throat as the scent invaded his senses, growing sharper. The screaming in his head grew louder again. The ringing of metal on metal, swords crashing together.

"Go get Ser Arryk," Jace commanded and Aegon's eyes snapped open. His nephew was kneeling in front of him again. Close, but not touching him.

Footsteps echoed as Luke fled. Aegon exhaled slowly as Jace simply sat there, staring at him. Lips pursed. Forehead creased.

"I told you to go," Aegon breathed out and his nephew's face twisted into a scowl. He shrunk back.

"I'm not leaving you like this," Jace huffed, fingers twitching forward. He didn't reach for him, "You're hurt." His gaze flickered over him. "Even if I can't tell how."

Aegon shook his head, ignoring the muffled memories edging at his mind. "I'm fine," he said. They both knew he was lying. His body ached, his thigh was throbbing, and his hand was still bleeding.

"Why won't you just let me help?!" Jace barked out. Aegon flinched and his nephew took a slow breath, steadying himself. He rolled his shoulders back, voice lowering? "Why do you keep sending me away?"

"You're Rhaenyra's son," Aegon answered automatically, voice flat as he pushed down on the chaos in his head.

He picked a spot on Jace's doublet and stared at him. Just stared. Memorizing the details of that spot, the stitching over the dyed wool.

"You're just trying to use me," Aegon said, reminding himself again. The words came out as a whisper, a mantra that he repeated as Jace stiffened.

Fingers curling into his hair, Aegon took a deep breath, gasping. The trembling persisted. His vision blurred. Jace was the only thing in focus. The bright scales of their dragons blurring together as dark eyes narrowed on him.

"Trying to use me," Aegon dug his heels into dirt as Jace's nostrils flared.

"I am not!" Jace snapped and Aegon twitched, back straightening against the stone. His nephew clenched his jaw, "Who said that? I'm not-"

"You did use me!" Aegon shouted, nails cutting into his scalp. "You!" Aegon cried as Jace lurched forward.

His hands were dragged forward, Jace gripping his wrists tightly, "I'm trying to help you!" He held his wrists up and Aegon's hands were forced into his sightline. "You're hurt!"

Blood and dirt were smeared across his palms. A deep gash cut across the meaty bit just below his fingers. Aegon blinked at it. He couldn't feel it.

The buzzing numbness blocked it out. Even now, with Jace touching him. His wrists burned, a searing heat slashing through downward. The mark on his arm pulsed and Aegon yanked his hands free.

"You used me," Aegon insisted, sneering at him, teeth bared, "You! I thought you actually cared and then you just used me!" Aegon's voice shook, "For what? To make your mother look bad? To make a point?"

"I didn't know it would happen like that!" Jace flushed, eyes going wide again, "I didn't mean-"

Aegon scoffed, sinking down, knees up. He squeezed his eyes shut, "It doesn't matter. You're just like everyone else." A hand squeezed at his leg.

"Egg, I swear-"

"Stop touching me!" Aegon jerked to the side, knocking the hand away. He sobbed, his own hands pushing at his face as Jace snatched his back to his chest.

Dark eyes trembled and beneath the soot on his face, Jace had paled, "Do you... do you really think I don't care?"

Whining, Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes," he whispered. His thoughts sluggish.

Everything was wrong. He ducked his head, curling into the wall, cheek pressing to stone. On his next inhale he opened his eyes to see Jace was whipping tears from his face, smearing the soot.

"I thought you loved me," Aegon choked out and his body curled smaller, "I wanted you to love me."

"I do!" Jace yelled, crawling closer. His hands hovered over him. He whimpered, "Egg, please, just let me help. I'll tell you everything okay? You'll understand-"

Aegon shook his head, struggling through his next breath. His chest tightened. A pressure building. He closed his eyes again, "You're Rhaenyra's son. It doesn't matter what I want."

"Why do you keep saying that?!" Jace yelled, rising up, arms wide, "What does my mother have to do with any of this?!"

"Just go!" Aegon sobbed, wrapping his arms tightly around his body. Fingers digging in to his upper arms, twisting in the fabric of his doublet, nails blunted by the layers as they dug into his flesh. Aegon glared at him, "I won't be your whore, so just leave me alone!"

Jace startled back. He rose up, standing as he took steps away. "I don't- you're not..." His voice cracked, bottom lip trembling as he swallowed, "That isn't what I want, Egg."

His chest ached at the soft rumble of his voice. The low tone. Sad. His mark throbbed and for a moment the rest of the lair sharpened into his view. The dragons in the corner. Sunfyre's twitching tail.

Turning his head, Aegon looked away. Jace fell into the background, into the blurry colors and the muffled sounds. He inhaled sharply.

"Let me help, Egg, please," Jace begged and Aegon shuddered. He closed his eyes again, focused on breathing, on Jace's voice. "You want me too, I know you do. I could help-"

"It doesn't matter what I want," Aegon blew out a breath and the silence echoed through the air. Forehead pressed to his knees, Aegon took shallow inhales and held them as long as he could.

A clatter of metal snapped his head up, his heart racing again. Ser Arryk stood in the entrance, brow furrowing as he took a step towards him, "Your grace?"

"Take them back to the Red Keep," Aegon ordered, gaze hard on the knight as he forced his words to remain steady. Firm. A prince's command.

"Yes, your grace," Ser Arryk bowed his head, blinking slowly. A hand held Luke still as he made a move towards Aegon. Another rose up, beckoning Jace towards him, "Let's go, Prince Jacaerys, your uncle needs some time alone."

In slow and halting moves, Jace walked away. His eyes never straying from Aegon's face. Vaguely, Aegon wondered what he saw there.

He felt as if he were sinking, as if he were sitting in the sea, the current dragging him further from shore. Ser Arryk caught his gaze, bowing his head slowly as he dragged his nephew away.

"Will you be here when I return, your grace?" Ser Arryk asked and Aegon just stared at him. He blinked slowly. The kingsguard's throat bobbed. "I can bring Prince Daemon, your grace?"

"I'm fine," Aegon heard the words, heard his voice. He didn't remember deciding to speak. The sound startled him and Aegon ducked his head. "Just go."

They left. The sound of Ser Arryk's footsteps loud in his ears, the metalic ring of his armor as he moved ricocheting though his head.

Once it faded, Aegon made for the protruding stone deeper in the corridors of lairs that hide the entrance to the tunnels beneath King's Landing. Hood low and cloak pulled tight to hide his leathers, Aegon fled the Dragon Pit.

He didn't need help. He needed wine.

Chapter Text

The sept on Visenya's Hill was grander than the one at the Red Keep. Impressive statues for each of the seven. Lots of stained glass.

At the altar of the mother, the skull of Meraxes rose up behind the statue. Modeled after Queen Rhaenys, the mother of the Targaryen dynasty. It had been a gift from the High Septon to King Jaehaerys, a nod to the Sept of Remembrance that had once stood where the Dragon Pit now sat on the opposite hilltop.

If it was meant to be comforting, Aegon was quite certain the effect was lost on most of the Smallfolk. No one ventured too close to Rhaenys' statue, to the large dragon skull behind her.

Providing him the perfect spot, hidden behind the skull, in the shadows of the alcove. Just him, his wine, and the sword in his lap.

Aegon watched numerous offerings being left to the mother. All of them on the short stone table a few paces in front of the statue. The candles flickered as arms stretched over them. Sleeves and cloaks carefully held away from the flames.

It was all perfunctory. A performance of faith. A ritual of comfort. Aegon's nose wrinkled, his vision blurring. His head fell back against the smooth stones behind him.

Light poured in through the stained glass above him. The design cast colors upon the back of the queen's statue. Rainbows dancing across the pale marble. Meraxes too. Her bone maw glowing red beneath the light.

The dragon was dead and somehow still judging him. Queen Rhaenys likely found him laking, unworthy of her husband's name. Her sister certainly would've. As would the woman who held her name now.

What sort of man hid from his nightmares behind a dead woman? What sort of dragon ran from the fire?

He hadn't a clue how much time had passed, long enough for him to finish the first two flagons of wine he'd bought. Still, Aegon was tensing at the ring of every bell. His hand remained tightly gripped on his sword's hilt.

He ought to have hidden behind the warrior's statue, at least. But Aegon was not a warrior.

"I want my mother," Aegon confided in the bones of a long dead dragon. His whispers slurred. Meraxes made no response.

If he returned to the Red Keep, it would not be his mother he was faced with, but her father. Aegon had avoided him after the Small Council and he had no choice but to avoid him now.

Otto Hightower did not need any further evidence of his weakness, of his cowardice. Aegon swallowed thickly.

Though, being discovered here would likely be just as bad. He was hiding behind a mother's skirts, even if it wasn't his mother. He was acting like a child. A scared, little boy.

Tears leaked from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It had not been half this hard when Aegon had actually been in the Stepstones.

Yet now, the memories kept leaping back out at him, twisting in his mind at the slightest provocation. Exaggerated. Mangled by the panic coursing through his blood.

Exhaling slowly, Aegon reached for the flagon of wine beside him. The last one. He'd bought as much as he could carry on his way here. Hidden them beneath his cloak along with the golden dragon on his chest as he passed the goldcloaks station outside.

The last of the wine sat heavy on his tongue. Bitter and tart. It sunk deeper, his gut churning. His head pounding.

"Why won't it go away?" Aegon whispered to Meraxes. Neither she nor Rhaenys had any answers. He shuddered through a wave of nausea as his gaze caught a hint of green in his periphery.

Suddenly wildfire was dancing in his vision and a burnt corpse was looming over him, a sword in his hand. Aegon gasped. He drew his own sword, eyes wide.

Just as quickly, it was gone. The wildfire. The Lyseni pirate he'd killed.

Aegon was left with a heaving chest and a sword shaking in his hand. It took him a moment to recognize the man kneeling before Rhaenys, lips parted as if he'd stopped mid-prayer.

He probably had. The red hair and the green doublet were bright, the colors sharp in a way the rest of his vision was not. His uncle rose up. He was just visible, half hidden by the statue, by the skull.

It was enough for Gwayne. He stepped into the alcove, eyes sweeping over Aegon.

Ducking his head, Aegon mumbled, listing sideways, "Go away."

Maybe if he fell unconcious, the memories would finally abate. The exhaustion and the wine both pulled at his eyelids. His lashes fluttered as Gwayne crouched in front of him.

"I thought Daemon was being dramatic," Gwayne sighed and a hand reached forward. Aegon flinched away. "This is not a safe place for you, nephew. And you should not be alone."

"It won't go away," Aegon sobbed, eyes squeezing shut as he fell into the floor. He curled up, his body trembled, twitching in a ball on the floor. "Why won't it go away?!" Aegon asked, half hysterical even to his own ears.

A bell rang out and Aegon whined. Swords and screaming. Sunfyre's screech.

"Let go, Aegon," Gwayne's voice was sharp as he wrapped a hand over the hilt of Aegon's blade. Still drawn. Still in his own hand. His uncle tugged at it, but Aegon's grip was tight. Clinging to the only defense he had.

"Make it stop!" Aegon begged, arms rising to curl around his head. His uncle inhaled sharply and Aegon cried out as a hand tightened on his wrist, twisting.

He released the sword. The snap as it returned to its sheath sent him spiraling, head thrashing. He screamed as the Stepstones rose up in his head, the stone caves surrounding him, awash in blood and wildfire.

Gwayne tugged him against his chest, shushing him, "It's alright. I have you." The throat beneath his forehead bobbed, "You're in King's Landing. In the Grand Sept, on Visenya's Hill."

"Make it stop!" Aegon clawed at his chest as his uncle bundled him up, pulling his hood low and wrapping his cloak securely over his chest.

"A knight from the Stepstones," Gwayne's voice answered a question Aegon didn't hear. Held aloft, Gwayne strolled from the alcove, "Too far in his cups. I have it handled."

The click of armor, the faint murmur of voices. Aegon cried in his uncle's arms. Body limp. Aching. His head was swimming. The incense grew rancid in his nostrils and he buried his nose in his uncle's neck.

"Please~" Aegon whimpered, fingers digging in to Gwayne's doublet. "Don't take me home," Aegon sobbed into the thick green fabric, "Grandfather will be angry." Hands tightened around him.

A kiss was pressed to the top of his head. Just as his mother did. Gwayne whispered soothing words, voice a soft rumble, a deeper cadence, but oh so similar. More kisses were pressed to his head.

"I want my mother," Aegon cried as he clung to her brother. It was the last thing he remembered before the Stepstones dragged him fully into his head, the darkness rising up to claim him.

The screaming was louder. The fire hotter. And Aegon was trapped in an endless maze of tunnels. The stone brittle and weak, crumbling in his hand. A burning cold, like ice, when he touched it.

He stumbled about, breathing wild, fear pulsing in his body as he looked for Sunfyre. Called for him. Screamed. His dragon's roars shook the walls around him, but no matter how he turned or where he fell, Sunfyre always sounded farther away.

"Egg?" Jace's voice cut through and the tunnels went quiet. Aegon whirled around. His nephew stood there, head tilted, eyes scrunched up, "What're you doing?"

"Jace," Aegon breathed out. His chest heaved, tension ebbing away. And then the bow in his nephew's hand rose up.

Aegon startled awake, thigh throbbing. His head fell back as he inhaled. His fingers curled in the sheets. Not his. Not a brothel.

The ceiling was wooden. Trusses holding it up visible. Clean. Fabric hung from them, green and grey. A bit of gold. A shimmering golden cloak, tossed over one of the rafters.

His uncle's home. The room he rented in some manse on River Row, near the Hook. Aegon had been here before. Once or twice.

"Let me see him!" Daemon's snarl had the air in his lungs freezing. Footsteps snapped across the floor.

"No," Gwayne held firm and Daemon growled. "He's asleep. He's safe. I only told you I found him because you seemed worried. It wasn't an invitation, your grace."

The royal address was sharp in his voice. Aegon turned his head. Sheer fabric separated the bed from the rest of the room. Two figures stood on the other side. One blocking the other.

Daemon's arms went wide as he stalked away. He didn't leave. He paced the room, "The dragonkeepers had to restrain Sunfyre." Aegon's breath caught in his throat. "Him and Vermax. They nearly tore each other apart."

"I am not so well versed in the psychology of dragons as you, my prince," Gwayne drawled, arms crossing.

"Sunfyre's reacting to Aegon's emotions. All dragons do," Daemon huffed. His gestures were clipped, his movements stilted. "It means he's struggling, Hightower. He's trying to fly again, as if nothing has changed."

They both went quiet as Daemon's footsteps paused. He took a breath. Aegon listened to it rattle in his chest.

"He spent two years in the air, every flight focused entirely on burning the enemy. Every time he was in the saddle, people died. Maybe only a few, maybe a few hundred. He can ignore it when he's on the ground, distract himself."

His uncles both shifted, turning to stare at the bed through the fabric Gwayne had layered over the rafters to provide himself privacy. Aegon held still. Their gazes were heavy, even obscured.

"The sky has few distractions," Daemon whispered and Gwayne sighed. "I told him not to fly by himself," Daemon huffed, arms crossing, "Perhaps he will listen to you."

Gwayne scoffed, head falling back, "If Aegon listened to me, you wouldn't have that cut on your throat." Daemon shuffled his feet. "I'll tell him. You should go."

A grumble and several aborted hand gestures later, Daemon stalked from the room. He slammed the door and Gwayne winced, hanging his head.

"Fucking Targaryens," Gwayne mumbled, pushing a hand through his hair. The fabric was pushed aside and his uncle stopped with a start. He blinked as Aegon's eyes met his. "You're awake."

That was debatable. Aegon was certainly concious, but his body was an empty husk. A dark hole of nothingness. Every inch of it numb but for his throbbing thigh and his forearm. A needling feeling at the wound kept Aegon's attention firmly on his thigh. He was certain it would be much more painful once he was more aware of it. Once his body woke up.

"You heard Daemon then," Gwayne approached him, sitting on the edge of the bed. A hand combed through his hair. "How are you feeling?" Gwayne asked.

Tired. Wrung out. Like he'd been flung from his dragon a second time and his heart carved out by the only person he'd ever wanted to give it to.

"Fine," Aegon croaked, blinking away tears as his uncle cupped his cheek. A thumb brushed over his skin, igniting the nerves with his warmth.

He'd been right, that if would hurt more, when he could feel it. A dull ache pounded in his head, familiar and easily ignored. His leg was not.

"Fuck!" Aegon arched up, head falling back as the stabbing pain shot up from the wound. He gasped, hand squeezing over his thigh.

"Ah! Careful!" Gwayne's hands pushed at his shoulders. They held him on the mattress as his body twisted, writhing.

This was not the twinging he'd grown accustomed to, the stiff muscles or the sensitive skin. His whole leg was buzzing with it. The pain tickled at every bone in his body.

"Do you need a maester?" Gwayne asked as Aegon gasped, curling into his uncle.

"No," Aegon shook his head, shoulders shaking as he breathed through it. He pressed his forehead to Gwayne's side. Fingers curled into his own shirt, fisting in the dark fabric over his heart as it raced.

His leathers were gone. His doublet. A fire was burning in the hearth across the room. Aegon's eyes focused on it.

"I... I think I'm fine now," Aegon whispered. It all hurt - his body, his head - but the room remained still, the colors didn't bleed. His memories had sunk back into his mind, floating beneath the surface, quiet. Finally.

"I guess you didn't hear Daemon then," Gwayne held him, hand rubbing at his back. Aegon shrugged. "Or you've decided to ignore him."

He had to fly. There was no other options. Aemond needed him. Vhagar. They'd been practicing on the ground, but that would mean little, if Aemond couldn't control Vhagar in the sky.

"I won't be alone when I fly," Aegon told him, shifting back. He sat up, drawing his knees to his chest. "And I wasn't alone today," Aegon argued, hand scrubbing over his face.

It had been bandaged. The cut washed. Aegon stared at it. Jace's wide eyes, shocked and sad, flashed in his head.

Shaking his head, Aegon rolled his shoulders back, "I had Joffrey with me almost the entire time." Gwayne arched a brow. Aegon fidgeted, hunching forward, "It started on the ground. When I landed at the Red Keep."

Or at the Dragon Pit. Before he ever took off. But Aegon didn't say that. He swallowed it back as his uncle stood up.

"Daemon probably assumes you're going through the same thing as him and Laenor," Gwayne offered as he fetched a pitcher of water. A cup was pushed in to his hands. "You are neither of them."

"It'll go away, right?" Aegon asked, eyes flicking up as he sipped at the water. His uncle's smile was tight, sad.

Kneeling on the bed beside him, Gwayne pressed a kiss to the top of his head, "It'll get easier, eventually." Aegon rubbed absently at his thigh, throat bobbing. "Are you ready to return to the Keep?"

"Is... is my mother upset? Daemon-"

"He's the only one who knows where you are," Gwayne assured him, squeezing at his shoulder, "I sent word to him because I knew he was tearing through Flea Bottom looking for you."

Aegon's head snapped up, eyes wide, "What?" His voice shook. "Why would he do that?"

Eyebrows arching, Gwayne looked from where Daemon had stood to Aegon, "Is that not obvious? He was worried."

"But... why? I threatened to kill him," Aegon looked up at his uncle, lashes fluttering as the man laughed. Gwayne squeezed his shoulder again.

"If there is one thing that Daemon Targaryen respects, it is a man who defends his family," Gwayne shrugged and stood up from the bed. He chuckled, head shaking, "And if there is one thing he understands, it's losing your temper."

Shoulders rolled back, Gwayne stretched his arms out. Aegon narrowed his eyes on his back, but his uncle didn't say anything else. Aegon blew out a breath and moved to the edge of the bed. He grimaced as his feet hit the floor.

Gwayne crossed to his wardrobe, "There was blood on your doublet. Probably best my sister not see that."

"How did you find me?" Aegon asked as he stood up. He took steadying breaths as he stretched each of his limbs.

The aches were fading. Or perhaps simply becoming easier to ignore. Above his waist anyway. Aegon cringed at the burn between his legs. The healer had told him riding a saddle would hurt...

"In the sept," Aegon exhaled slowly, leaning on the foot of Gwayne's bed. "I'd been there a while, no one had seen me. How did you know I was there?"

"I wasn't looking for you, to be honest," Gwayne hummed and held out one of his doublets. "Daemon came to see me, said you were in danger. That you were... distraught was the word he used I think."

Aegon tugged the doublet on, fastening the closures as his uncle leaned back against a table. His brow furrowed as he surveyed Aegon.

"I thought you'd just run off to a brothel again, the way he was talking. Daemon's not exactly a sharer," Gwayne sighed, rubbing at his neck.

A pointed look from his uncle had Aegon fidgeting. The man was broader than him, his doublet a bit big, hanging looser than Aegon's normally did from his shoulders.

It was oddly comforting, actually. Warm. The dark green fabric soft beneath his fingers as he ran his hands down the thick, quilted materials.

"A Targaryen trait, I'd think, if I had not grown up with your mother," Gwayne drawled. His arms crossed, tongue clicking at his tongue, "I went to the sept to pray for you, regardless. That's how I found you."

"Oh." Aegon hummed, ducking his head. A blush spread across his cheeks. He took a breath, gaze focused on the floor.

His uncle crossed the room again. This time, Gwayne was not holding out a doublet, but a sword. His sword. The one that had been meant for Aemond.

"Sorry I worried you," Aegon mumbled as he took it, strapping it back to his waist. He tightened the leather belt and looked up at his uncle. Gwayne was staring at him, frowning faintly.

"Let's get you back to the Red Keep, before the queen discovers you've been missing all afternoon," Gwayne clapped his shoulder and Aegon whined. His uncle paused as Aegon ducked his head.

Cursing faintly, Aegon scrubbed a hand down his face. Puckering his lips, he whined, "Aemond's going to kill me if I missed training."

Gwayne choked, laughing sharply. His head tossed back. "It's late, so yes, I am certain your brother will be cross with you," Gwayne said as he tossed Aegon a bundle with his clothes and armor.

Chapter Text

It was not quite so late as Aegon feared when they stepped outside. While the sun was certainly low in the sky, his brother was still in the training yard even though Cole had left.

As were his nephews and Baela. And Cregan.

Aemond was spinning about the ring, scowling as he and Cregan clashed. The metal of their practice swords crashing together loudly. Scrapping against each other. Both focused, relentless.

Throat bobbing, Aegon leaned over the halfwall that had once been his observational post. Gwayne paused beside him, hands clasped in front of him as Aegon's gaze flicked over the yard. He was hidden from most of them by a stone pillar as he surreptitiously surveyed the yard.

Baela and Luke had abandoned their swords to practice their archery. His nephew was better at that than he was with the sword. Baela was not. Her focus was more on Luke than her bow though, encouraging him quietly.

She was the first one to notice him. Her eyes fluttering and her back straightening. Baela grinned a moment later. Aegon avoided her gaze, ducking his head past the stone pillar beside him to catch sight of his other nephews.

Jace was more hands on with Joffrey than he was. He crouched behind his brother, shifting his stance, moving his fingers. Aegon rubbed a hand over his jaw as Jace chuckled.

"Yes, well done, Joff," Jace squeezed at his brother's waist, "Egg will be very impressed when you show him." Joffrey preened and he went through the combination again.

For a moment, Aegon let himself bask in it. In Jace's soft laughter and Aemond's heavy breathing, Luke's whining and Joffrey's chattering. Even Baela's sly smirk was oddly comforting when she caught him staring at Jace's back.

"Ugh!" Luke threw his bow to the ground, hands scrubbing down his face, "I'm terrible at this, can we please just go for dinner now?"

Baela's nose wrinkled and Jace's shoulders tensed. Aegon spoke before either of them could.

"I thought you were pretty good," Aegon drawled, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Luke whirled around.

The entire yard turned with him. Eyes wide, each and every one of them. Save Cregan, who's arm dropped to his side when Aemond whipped around fast enough to have his hair slapping at Cregan's face. The man wrinkled his nose.

He chewed absently at his bottom lip, head tilting as Luke flushed crimson. "What do you think, uncle?" Aegon arched a brow over his shoulder.

"Better than I was at your age, your grace," Gwayne offered Luke a smile as he bowed his head. He winked as he raised his head, "And I won the archery contest in the last tourney."

A tiny smile flickered over his nephew's face. Aegon nodded sharply, "See?" He gestured wide, "If nothing else, You're certainly better than me, nephew."

"When's the last time you even picked up a bow?" Aemond arched a brow as he stalked over. His sword was brandished threateningly as Aegon waved him off.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Aegon tapped at the point of the sword, smirking at his brother as he growled.

A rush of energy shoved past his brother, Joffrey bouncing on the balls of his feet. He clutched at the halfwall in front of Aegon, "You're back!"

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Aegon grinned, "I am!" He waved a hand behind him, "I have a proper escort and everything!"

"Did you ditch training just to annoy our uncle?" Aemond huffed, sword rising up again. Gwayne clicked his tongue and Aemond dropped it back to his side.

"I brought him back with me?" Aegon offered as he reached down. Quickly, he snatched Joffrey off the ground. His nephew shrieked as he was raised into the air.

Aegon dragged his legs up, sitting properly on the stone wall as he set Joffrey in his lap. He wrapped his nephew in his arms and hooked his chin over his head.

Eyes wide, he puckered his lips and batted his lashes at Aemond, "I just wanted my favorite uncle to meet my favorite nephew."

His brother was entirely unimpressed. With a scoff, Aemond stomped away to return his practice sword. Aegon perked up, grinning widely as Joffrey giggled, hands rising to his lips.

"He's almost as grumpy as Jace," Joffrey tilted his head back to look at Aegon. Immediately, Aegon peppered his face with kisses and his nephew squealed, descending into a mess of giggles. His joy thick around him.

"Are you feeling better, uncle?" Luke asked and Aegon's head snapped up, suddenly much more aware of his surroundings.

Jace kept his distance, his head bowed slightly as he spoke with Aemond. Their bodies turned towards each other. His nephew's eyes flicking towards him. Aegon's stomach flipped.

Luke had spoken quietly, and he'd come up to the wall. Only Gwayne had heard him, and Baela perhaps, as she trailed behind Luke half a step, hovering.

"Were you sick?" Joffrey frowned up at him. His hand dropped to Aegon's thigh, eyes narrowed, "Was it because we went flying?"

"I'm just fine," Aegon brushed his hand away and kissed his cheek. He reached for Luke then, dragging him into his side. His nephew squawked, but he let himself be tucked up against Aegon.

An arm snaked around his waist and Luke pressed his cheek to his shoulder. Aegon flashed him a smile. His nephew curled in closer. A hand found his, careful fingers tracing the edges of his bandage.

"Here, Luke," Aegon nodded towards Gwayne, "This is my uncle - Ser Gwayne Hightower of the City Watch." Luke inclined his head as Gwayne bowed. "Princes Lucerys and Joffrey," Aegon squeezed them each in turn, "of House Velaryon."

"Oi! Why does Luke go first? I'm your favorite!" Joffrey whined, face twisting into a pout. Luke rolled his eyes and Aegon chuckled.

"I can have two favorites," Aegon tickled at Joffrey's side and Luke preened, smile wide and bright as his face flushed. Joffrey giggled more and fingers curled into his borrowed doublet.

Baela cleared her throat, stepping forward. She curtsied, "I'm Lady Baela, ser, of House Targaryen." Gwayne bowed his head once more.

"It is my pleasure to meet you, my lady," Gwayne nodded to each of them, "An honor, truly, to meet those who reside in my nephew's heart." Joffrey's smile turned shy and Luke turned his face into Aegon's shoulder.

"Aegon said you're a knight in the City Watch? Did you serve with my father?" Baela swayed forward slightly, hands clasped behind her back. Joffrey perked up, eyes wide and gaze sharp as he focused on Gwayne.

"I am, yes," Gwayne told her and Joffrey popped up from Aegon's lap. "I was a squire still, when your father was our commander, for the most part. I was knighted not long before his resignation."

Both his cousin and his nephew leaned closer at that. Joffrey was nearly vibrating with excitement, hands rising to his lips as Baela fired off more questions.

"A... purge, was carried out, before a tourney in King's Landing. Criminals rounded up, that sort of thing. I was knighted at the end of the night, as were several of the other squires who participated," Gwayne's gaze flicked towards Joffrey, lips pursing as he told the story.

Perhaps the most generic version of his uncle's knighting that Aegon had ever heard. His grandfather usually included Daemon nearly killing him in a joust when he discussed it. His mother liked to wax poetically about the spirit of the warrior and justice.

His uncle laughed as Joffrey began tugging on his arm, "What about now? What do you do now?!"

"I protect the city, your grace," Gwayne smiled brightly, taking Joffrey's hand, "As a senior member of the City Watch, I coordinate patrols, make them myself, bring criminals to heel, that sort of thing."

"Do you go on quests?!" Joffrey squeezed at Gwayne's hand. His nephew was standing nearly on the edge of the stone, only Aegon's arm around his waist keeping him steady as he lurched forward, "Mother says my father went on a quest to defend the Stepstones, like Uncle Aegon."

"He did indeed," Gwayne nodded sharply, chin rising. His gaze flicked to Aegon, lip twitching up, "Ser Laenor would have been glad to share his quest with my nephew I'm sure. He was a man of great nobility."

His uncle now had Luke's full attention too. Aegon hooked his chin over Luke's shoulder as he leaned across Aegon's chest, "You knew our father?"

"I did, your grace," Gwayne nodded, "We were friends, of a sort, when we were younger and he visited the Red Keep with his family." He smiled at Baela, inclining his head, "Your lady mother was a beauty without compare, I must say, and you do her great justice with that smile, Lady Baela."

Aegon gagged, loudly, as Baela blushed. She slapped at his arm, smile never faltering. Her chin rose as she looked at Gwayne, "Thank you, ser. There is no higher compliment."

Joffrey whined, grabbing at Gwayne's arm again and nearly stumbling off the wall, "But are you on a quest?"

"I am," Gwayne ducked his head to meet Joffrey's eyes as Aegon tugged him back into his lap. His nephew grinned as Gwayne brushed a hand a through Aegon's hair, "I have corralled a wayward dragon and must now return him to his mother before he causes any more trouble."

"Good luck with that," Luke snorted and Aegon squawked. He squeezed Luke to his side, nipping at his ear. Luke cackled, twisting to avoid Aegon's bite as he laughed. Baela hid her own giggles in her palm.

They drew the attention of the other three in the yard. Cregan was smiling at them and Aemond was shaking his head, amusement twinkling in his eye. Jace clenched his jaw. His throat bobbed and Aegon buried his face in Luke's curls to hide his burning cheeks as he watched the movement.

Inhaling slowly, Aegon focused on the nephews in his arms. On their bright laughter and mischievous eyes as they all sat on the stone wall. Joffrey against his chest, Luke at his side.

Gwayne threw his head back, laughing at something Joffrey said. Another question about knights he expected. Aegon wanted to drown in this feeling, in the warm cacoon of his nephews and their happiness.

The heat of Jace's gaze on him remained though and Aegon found himself glancing his way. Past Aemond's obvious eavesdropping and Cregan's blatant attention. Jace was watching closely. The anger Aegon expected absent.

Pursed lips and tense shoulders, Jace had never looked so uncomfortable in his life. And dark eyes trembled as they met Aegon's gaze. Gut twisting, Aegon ignored the stab of ice through his soulmark.

Luke yelped, head snapping back to look at Aegon as the chill hit him. His eyes fluttered, squinting at Aegon as his hand laced with his, squeezing, "Uncle?"

A quick distraction presented itself and Aegon echoed Luke as Gwayne stiffened. He straightened, a sluggish dread rising up his spine.

Only one person had the power to bring Gwayne's walls up so quickly. His uncle adopted a neutral expression, smile tight, as Otto Hightower swept into the corridor.

"Prince Aegon," Otto called out to him. He tilted his head in a shallow bow as he approached. His gaze flicking right over Gwayne without stopping, "I had hoped to speak with you, your grace, if you have a moment."

"Right." Aegon nodded, clearing his throat. He flashed Aemond a quick smile across the yard as he released Luke. He raised his voice, calling out to to his brother, "Tell mother I'll be taking dinner with you all tonight."

"You can't go," Joffrey furrowed his brow, head tilting back. Aegon blinked down at him and his nephew gestured towards Gwayne, "Ser Gwayne hasn't returned you to the queen yet."

Luke chuckled, ducking his head. Baela's laughter twinkled as Joffrey openly scowled now. Nearly identical to Jace's expression across the yard as he caught sight of the Hand.

"You can't interrupt a knight in the middle of a quest," Joffrey argued and Gwayne's mask twitched. His stance widened and Baela's gaze flickered over all of them.

"That's true," Baela cut in, nodding along with her cousin. Her gaze lingered on Aegon's face, "My septa says it's an insult to the warrior." She rocked backwards, eyes rising to Otto, "Are you a devout man, lord hand?"

His grandfather did not hide his chuckle, dry as it was. His lips twitched up, "I am, Lady Baela." With a nod towards Joffrey, "And I would not dream of standing against a prince."

The tension in the air was thick. Aegon swallowed. A chill rising over his body. Luke squeezed his hand and his gaze snapped to him. His nephew puckered his lips, "You should go see the queen first, uncle."

Aemond raised his chin as he joined them. They both remained quiet, mouths firmly shut as their grandfather finally acknowledged his son.

"You heard the princes, ser," Otto spoke gruffly and Gwayne's jaw twitched. "You shouldn't dawdle," Otto gestured towards the hall, "The queen awaits."

"Of course, my lord," Gwayne bowed his head. He beckoned Aemond through the stone arch nearby, never looking away from his father.

Pressing a kiss to Joffrey's head, Aegon rose to his feet. Baela picked him up immediately, already tugging Luke back towards Jace, "Come now, we're probably late for dinner."

A hand on both their backs, Gwayne escorted them away from the training yard. Aemond kept his gaze solidly forward. His hands clasped behind his back. His expression neutral. Just like Gwayne.

Aegon found he could not replicate it himself. He glanced back. His grandfather was watching them all, gaze flicking from his nephews to him and Aemond with a faint frown.

Jace did not turn to look at him directly, but his eyes flicked in his direction, and then towards Otto. His lips pursed, the muscle in his cheek twitching. Brow lowering, his gaze narrowed, shrewd.

A similar look met them at the door to their mother's rooms. Ser Arryk stood sentry. He surveyed Aegon closely before bowing his head, "Your grace."

"Ser Arryk," Aegon flashed a smile as he passed him. Aemond echoed him. Gwayne stopped to speak with him and Aegon tensed, pausing only a few feet into his mother's rooms.

"What're you doing?" Aemond huffed as he collided with Aegon's back. His eyes narrowed on him. Aegon ducked his head.

Gwayne's eyes fluttered as Aegon looked back at him. He didn't know exactly what his face was doing, but Aemond reared back and Gwayne was quick to follow them inside. He squeezed at Aegon's shoulder.

"Brother?" His mother's voice cut through the air and Aegon's head whipped around. She rose from one of her couches, letters set aside as a smile spread across her face, "What're you doing here?"

"Stumbled across my nephew in the city and thought I'd escort him back to your care, sister," Gwayne bowed dramatically, cloak flying out in a sarcastic curtsy.

His mother's laughter was a sweet balm. Aegon swayed as it wrapped around him, sinking into his bones. She stepped closer, hand rising to swat at her brother even as she focused on him, "Making your uncle chase you around Flea Bottom again were you?"

"Yes, actually," Aegon said, voice cracking as he thought of Daemon. It was not the uncle she'd meant, but as he imagined the rogue prince stomping around the Street of Silk, Aegon found himself laughing all the same.

Thin arms encircled him, drawing Aegon into a hug, "You were the talk of court after your stunt this morning." Aegon sunk into the embrace. He pressed his face to her shoulder.

A hand rose to the back of his head. He inhaled slowly. His mother kissed the side of his head. She rocked him slightly, as Aegon clung to her.

"Has something happened?" his mother asked, arms tightening around his body. Aegon cried softly and she stiffened, "Gwayne?"

"I'm fine," Aegon sniffed, cutting off his uncle. He pulled back, wiping at his eyes. His mother frowned. She cupped his face, hands almost warm for once. He smiled at her, "Just a long day, mother."

Her forehead creased. A quick glance at Gwayne and she bit her lip, "Let's get you something to eat then, hmm? How about some cake?" He laughed, nodding mutely. She kissed his forehead. Thumbs swiped over his cheeks.

Beside him, Aemond reached out, hand grazing over his bicep. Their mother stepped back, already calling for a servant as she walked back towards her couch.

"Are you really okay?" Aemond whispered, ducking his head closer as Gwayne followed their mother. He squeezed at Aegon's arm. "You're shivering again."

"I'm perfectly fine, brother," Aegon lied, smiling brightly, "Though I might whine and moan a bit to get extra cake." He dragged his brother along as he headed for the table.

Helaena emerged from deeper in the apartments. She smiled softly at them as she sat on Aemond's other side. Cake turned into dinner, with Gwayne easily convinced to stay by Alicent's wide fluttering eyes. An expression Aegon immediately mimicked, much to his uncle's amusement.

He felt almost normal, happy even, sitting surrounded by his family. His mother laughing. Aegon ignored the concerned glances from around the table just as he did the pain pulsing in his soulmark. Twisting and digging.

"Ser Arryk!" His mother called for the kingsguard when Aegon finally rose to excuse himself for bed. Helaena had long since left. Aemond as well.

A hand was placed on Gwayne's shoulder and his mother straightened in her seat. Her brother paled. The kingsguard appeared, "Your grace?"

"Please escort my son to bed," the queen gave her command and Aegon blinked. Her hand tightened on Gwayne's shoulder. "I need to speak with my brother privately and I wouldn't want Prince Aegon to get lost."

"Of course, your grace," Ser Arryk bowed low as Aegon flushed. He grumbled under his breath as the kingsguard followed him out.

No doubt his uncle would tell his mother everything now. Or, everything he knew. Gwayne's loyalty was unquestionable, and it lay solidly with his sister. With his queen.

"You'll break your fast with me tomorrow, Aegon," his mother called after him. Aegon agreed with a huff. If he slammed open his door when he got to his chamber, well, Ser Arryk was the only one who witnessed it.

"Ser Criston will escort you, tomorrow morning, your grace," Ser Arryk told him, lingering at the threshold.

Aegon ripped his borrowed doublet open. He spun around, glaring at Ser Arryk as he faced him, "What did you tell him? What did you-"

"I spoke only to Prince Daemon, when I returned your nephews to the Princess Rhaenyra's rooms," Ser Arryk's chin rose, his brows furrowed, "And I told him only that you were in need of his assistance."

"Oh." Aegon's shoulders slumped. He turned his head away. Breathing slowly, he scrubbed his hands down his face.

Clearing his throat, Ser Arryk took a single step inside his room, "If I may, your grace..." Aegon beckoned him forward. The door closed with a quick snap. "You are hardly the first person to return from war who... struggled, in certain moments."

Hands dropping, Aegon exhaled slowly, "I'm fine." Ser Arryk frowned at him when Aegon met his gaze. He rolled his shoulders back, shrugging off his doublet as he laughed, "I hardly did anything in the Stepstones anyway."

"As you say, your grace," Ser Arryk responded with an arched brow and a low bow, "Should you ever wish to discuss it though... I am certain Ser Criston would have an... an open ear."

"Thank you, ser," Aegon dismissed him with a wave as he removed his shoes. The door clicked again as Ser Arryk left.

Drawing up his sleeve, Aegon took a breath. His hand shook as he undid the wrapping around his forearm. The familiar red lines had cut deeper than usual and he hissed as the air hit his skin.

Rubbing at the flesh, Aegon grimaced. His forearm seemed swollen. He ran his thumb over his mark. Vermax stared back at him, mocking him as tears welled up in his eyes.

He hadn't said anything that wasn't true, when they fought earlier. When Jace had... had tried help him. Tracing the edge of Vermax and the seahorse, Aegon walked to his window.

"Why is this so hard?" Aegon whispered to the green dragon as he opened the window, letting the glass swing inward as he stepped onto the ledge.

The breeze felt good. Winter's chilly air almost warm on his skin. Aegon leaned on the window's frame, head ducked over his arm as he stroked his mark.

Jace was his soulmate. Stubborn and headstrong and highly disagreeable when annoyed. Just like his dragon.

Vermax had practically coiled himself around Sunfyre to comfort him earlier. Aegon hadn't let Jace do the same. His hands had been warm, dragging over his body, insistent as he'd checked Aegon for injury. Firm when he held Aegon's face between his palms.

"It'll end in disaster," Aegon reminded himself, sniffling as his thumb swiped over Vermax again. The king would die. Rhaenyra would have to kill him. Or Aegon would have to kill her.

He didn't know if he could do that.

Aegon lifted his head. Arm pressed to his chest, he stared out over the Blackwater. The inky black. Horizon imperceptible under the dark sky.

It had never mattered what Aegon wanted. Not to anyone. Not even his mother. She'd put him on the throne, force it on him, if it saved his brothers.

Even if it killed him. Even if it ripped his heart out.

The breeze picked up, whipping around him. His hair flew out. Aegon didn't bother to push it from his face.

A dragon rumbled, wings flapping as they rose over the castle. Aegon's chest tightened and he sobbed.

Vermax circled the castle. His rider's shadow on his back as they turned.

Squeezing at his arm, Aegon inhaled sharply. He stumbled back. Eyes squeezing shut, Aegon dug his fingers into his mark, pushing hard.

It throbbed, his body shuddering.

He wanted Jace. His warm hands, his body solid on top of his. Mostly, Aegon just wanted Jace to hold him. He wanted to cry into his chest and feel safe for once.

But nowhere was safe. Not for Aegon. And what he wanted didn't matter.

As the snow began to fall outside, Aegon rewrapped his arm and went to bed. He wasn't surprised when his grandfather woke him in the morning, dumping him from his bed with a rough hand and a sharp voice.

Chapter Text

Monotony was not something Aegon enjoyed. A routine was nice, especially if it included ample time in a brothel and on dragonback. But that was not the same as monotony.

He'd avoided the Dragon Pit, going instead with Aemond into the Kingswood to rise in the air on Vhagar. It gave him an easy excuse to practice summoning his dragon from a distance. Amongst other tricks that Aemond grumbled about less and less every day.

They flew everyday at that, every morning. Aemond's control over Vhagar grew. His brother calmed. Aegon tried to relax, to lose himself in the day-to-day.

Flying with Aemond. Attending court and the Small Council. Training with Joffrey. Dinner with his mother. Escaping most nights to Mysaria's.

The routine was simple. Aegon had little to no distractions. Not even wine. His suggestion that Daeron come for a visit had received a thoughtful nod from the king and a curious arch of his grandfather's eyebrow.

Simple. Like the smiles that the king occassionally graced him with now.

It was also mind-numbingly boring!

"Aegon!" his mother hissed in his ear as he suppressed another yawn in the middle of court. His head lulled to the side, attempting to focus on the latest petitioner's issue.

Something about taxes and the maesters' predictions for the winter. It was meant to be a short one, apparently.

An elbow collided with his side and Aegon straightened. Across the Grand Hall, Daemon was receiving similar treatment from Rhaenyra as he pinching the bridge of his nose.

"How much longer?" Aegon whispered to his mother. She pursed her lips and he whined. "I can't take much more~"

Even the king's eyelids were sagging as the minor lord continued to drone on. Viserys sat on the Iron Throne. His hand at the bottom, standing just off center, nodding along.

"And what is it, specifically, that you would like the crown to do?" Otto drawled as the lord finished. Finally.

"Is that not obvious, ser?" the lord blustered and Aegon groaned, head falling back.

He couldn't help it. Aegon snarled, chin dropping, "If it were obvious he wouldn't have asked!" His mother stiffened beside him.

Rhaenyra cleared her throat and the lord's glare turned from him to her. She smiled, "Your lengthy petition was quite thorough, my lord. We would not wish to miss a portion of your request. If you could summarize, I believe our king would be glad to resolve this matter immediately."

"As you say, your grace," the lord huffed, bowing his head. He gave a clipped now before launching in to yet another drawn out explanation. Aegon understood even less than he had before.

"I bet we could resolve the matter quicker by cutting out his tongue," Aegon grumbled to himself. His mother squeezed his hand, looping their arms together.

In the end, the man's petition was denied. The same as Aegon's request for wine. Daemon giggled across the hall and Aegon gestured crudely in his uncle's direction.

"I do believe that is enough for today, Otto," Viserys rose from his seat. He ambled down from the the Iron Throne with his cane as the various courtiers dispersed.

Rhaenyra crossed the hall, arms wrapped protectively around her bump. It had grown quite large and she leaned heavily on Daemon.

"Your grace," Rhaenyra gave a perfunctory bow to his mother before her eyes locked on him, "Little brother."

"Are you about to lecture me about court etiquette?" Aegon wrinkled his nose. He slumped to the side, resting his cheek on his mother's shoulder, "I assure you, I've heard it already and will surely hear it again."

Her lips twitched up and she tilted her head, hair cascading over her shoulder, "Do you know what that lord was asking for?"

Aegon shrugged, "Something about taxes and the weather?" His mother sighed. She shook her head and Rhaenyra arched a brow.

"He wanted to tax the Smallfolk on his land based on the maester's prediction of a short winter," Rhaenyra explained, lips pursed, "He'd collect more, essentially, because they would need less food before the next harvest, by his estimate."

"So... I was right? Cutting his tongue out would've resolved this quicker," Aegon hummed and Daemon chuckled, head ducking forward as he grinned. He went quiet when Rhaenyra's gaze flicked to him.

With a huff, Rhaenyra reached forward to squeeze his free hand, "Court can be long, but we must always pay close attention to what is said. It is our responsibility to do right by our people."

Whining, Aegon puckered his lips and turned his face into the fabric of his mother's dress, "Can't I have just one glass of wine?"

"No," his mother looked skyward, "You need a clear head. We still have the Small Council today, Aegon."

He would rather run himself through with his own sword. Aegon raised his head and sighed, "Yes, mother." His grandfather's sharp look did nothing for his mood.

Rhaenyra's short lecture would not be the last he faced. In fact, she'd probably earned him a second, schooling him so openly. Who knew what comparisons would now be drawn between them? Aegon would surely hear all of them from the Hand later.

"I'm going to go annoy Aemond," Aegon drawled, slipping from his mother's hold and ducking past Daemon. "Try not to be too boring without me!"

His grandfather called after him, but Aegon ignored him. He was already in trouble after all. A little more wouldn't make much of a difference. And he was fairly positive the laughter he heard on his way out was the king's.

Aemond was in his lessons. A pinched expression appeared on the maester's face when Aegon appeared in the library. He leaned over Aemond's seat, hooking his chin over his brother's head.

"Whatcha reading?" Aegon asked, already snatching the book from the table before his brother could hold it down.

Across the table, Jace and Luke exchanged a look. Smiles twitched at their lips as Aemond growled. Aegon clicked his tongue.

"Boring," Aegon dropped the book back onto the table without even reading a single line. He wrapped his arms around Aemond's shoulders, "Entertain me!"

"Do you not have responsibilities to attend?" Aemond huffed, head tilting back. Aegon groaned. He grimaced and pressed his forehead to Aemond's.

His brother had no sympathy as he complained about the long-winded lord and the lack of wine. Aegon leaned further forward, putting more of his weight on Aemond, "But Aem~ They wouldn't even let me cut his tongue out!"

"Why would you cut his tongue out?" Aemond wrinkled his nose and pushed backwards. Aegon stumbled away with a squawk and his brother smirked.

Brow furrowing, Aegon gestured wide, "Were you not listening? He was very boring!" Aemond rolled his eyes. Aegon snapped his fingers and raised his chin, "Nyra said he was trying to tax the Smallfolk unfairly. Surely that counts for something!"

Jace chuckled, leaning back in his seat, "That's probably why he was so longwinded." Aegon blinked at him.

A slow realization rising in his head, Aegon's face puckered, "Yeah, probably."

"What's that mean?" Luke asked, head tilting. He looked to his brother, "How are they related?"

"If everyone just wanted him to shut up, he might've managed to get his petition approved without anyone even realizing what he was doing," Jace explained with a quirk of his brow, "He was trying to distract from what he was asking."

Aegon waved his hand at Jace, "See? They should've let me cut his tongue out, much more efficient!" Jace smiled at him and Aegon immediately rolled his shoulders back to hide a shudder.

His mark had been pulsing for days, the cold buzzing beneath his skin insistent and unending. Mysaria's healer had mentioned it and two more warming pans had been added to his bed at the brothel without a word.

Licking his lips, Aegon avoided meeting Jace's gaze. Those dark eyes flicking over him, surveying him. Aegon's gut twisted. His nerves screaming out, demanding Jace's touch, his warmth.

"Your grace..." the maester cleared his throat, "The princes are in the middle of their lesson on the Conquest."

"Dragons burned or intimidated everyone but the Dornish into submission," Aegon winked at Luke and his nephew grinned. He gave an exaggerated bow and ruffled Aemond's hair, "I have to go listen to more boring nonsense with the Small Council anyway."

Aemond's growl and his nephews' laughter buoyed him forward, but he barely managed to get to the end of the hall before Luke shouted after him, "Uncle!"

His nephew ran down the hall, curls bouncing, and Aegon paused. He arched a brow as Luke came to a halt right in front of him. Breathless and blushing. Luke wrung his hands.

"I, uh, I wanted to ask you something..."

"This sounds vaguely familiar," Aegon teased him, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. Luke chuckled lightly, almost nervously.

Luke looked around, biting at his lip. He ducked closer, looking up at Aegon through his lashes, "Would you help me find Aemond a nameday present?"

Eyes fluttering, Aegon's mouth dropped open. He had not expected that.

"It, uh, it's just thaf Joff said you got him the perfect gift and I don't want to get him something he won't like," Luke started to ramble, voice shaking and hands twisting.

If Luke were his mother, he'd be playing with rings. If he were Aegon's mother he'd be ripping at his nails. As it was, the hem of Luke's doublet was being shredded before his eyes.

"You don't have to, of course, I was just hoping and -"

Aegon pressed a finger to Luke's lips. His nephew went quiet, eyes wide, pupils trembling. Aegon smiled at him, "I'll help."

Shoulders sagging, Luke exhaled audibly. Aegon laughed and ruffled his hair. He drew him in for a quick hug, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head.

"I'm still looking for the last part of Aemond's gift, we can peruse the Street of Steel together if you like," Aegon suggested. Luke nodded quickly, stepping back when Aegon released him.

"Do we have to..." Luke snapped his mouth shut and Aegon squinted at him. He fidgeted. Feet shuffling, Luke ducked his head.

"Lucerys~" Aegon folded himself forward, head tilting. He poked at his nephew's side. "My sweet Lucerys... don't make me convince you..."

Startling, Luke raised his head, "Do we have to take a kingsguard?" Aegon blinked slowly. His nephew groaned, "Everyone knows who I am when I have a kingsguard and then there's all the whispering and the-"

Hand snapping forward, Aegon grinned as he muffled Luke with his palm. "How would you feel about ditching some of your lessons tomorrow?" His nephew nodded and Aegon dropped his hand.

"Thank you, uncle," Luke offered quietly, smile shy and eyes bright. Aegon pressed another kiss to his forehead.

"Anything for my favorite nephew," Aegon clipped his chin. Luke's smile spread wider then and Aegon preened under his attention. The affection in his eyes. The warmth.

Footsteps approached from behind him and someone cleared their throat. Luke stiffened. His grandfather's voice rumbled through the hall, "Prince Aegon, I do hope you've finished distracting your brother and nephews."

He waited till Luke had scampered back to his lesson. The door of the library clicked shut and Aegon turned.

"Absolutely, grandfather," Aegon clasped his hands behind his back and stepped towards him, "I was very efficent with my distraction. I know how important punctuality is to you."

The hand that grabbed his arm was rougher than usual. His grandfather's words gruffer. Aegon flinched as the man squeezed at his bicep, fingers digging in, bruising.

It was only once they arrived at the Small Council room he discovered why. The moment every one was assembled and the king had taken his seat, Otto dropped the news.

"The commander of the City Watch has resigned," Otto announced, chin rising as he glared at Daemon, "Again."

His uncle smirked, sprawling out in his seat. His arms spread wide in a slow shrug, "I did warn you that dropping young lordlings in to command my men wouldn't work."

Rhaenyra scrubbed a hand over her face and the king grimaced. Aegon leaned back, shrinking down as they began to argue.

"They are no longer your men," Otto reminded Daemon glibly, "Though one would never know it given how they refuse to follow orders from anyone else."

"They followed the orders of Ser Harwin Strong just fine," Daemon sneered, leaning forward across his wife to snarl, "If you would listen to me you would not be on your fifth lord commander in as many years!"

A hand shot out, Rhaenyra's palm pressed to Daemon's chest and he fell back in his seat. His hands gripped at the arms of his chair. Tyland Lannister leaned away from him, drinking heavily from his goblet. Aegon was exceptionally jealous of him in that moment.

Lord Beesbury cleared his throat, "While I do not share Prince Daemon's confidence that it will work, I must agree that his earlier proposal may prove the most effective."

"The men of the City Watch will not respect someone new, that has been well proven," Rhaenyra inclined her head towards Lord Beesbury as she looked to the king.

Viserys hummed, eyes narrowing on Daemon, "And you cannot be convinced to take the mantle up again, brother? You are who trained most of them. Saw to their current organizational structure."

His uncle's smirk held no mirth and his eyes no amusement, "Your offer honors me, brother, but I have far more important responsibilities to attend to." Rhaenyra's lips twitched up into a smile. She placed a hand over his on the arm of his chair.

Their fingers laced together. A hand grabbed Aegon's beneath the table as his grandfather's gaze turned to him. His mother squeezed and Aegon straightened.

"Perhaps we ought to consider a different prince, your grace," Otto suggested and every eye snapped to him but his mother's. Her throat bobbed.

"I'm not a knight," Aegon swallowed thickly and willed himself not to hunch under all their assessing gazes. Surely they would find him lacking.

Otto waved his words away, "Neither is Prince Daemon. You've experience with combat, that's more than-"

Aegon snorted, head shaking, "I sat on a dragon and burned people. That's hardly relevant to protecting a city." His grandfather's jaw clenched. His mother's grip on his hand grew tighter, her hand trembling.

"Comparable enough, I'd say," Mellos coughed. He leaned forward, palm pressing to the wood as he nodded his agreement, "Prince Aegon would be a fine choice, I think."

Beesbury and Lannister both agreed readily. Citing Daemon's precedent. His uncle had done little but win a few tourneys before being named commander. The men had respected him because of his ferocity, his temper.

"You certainly share quite a few of those traits with Daemon," Viserys hummed, surveying Aegon closely. He folded his hands together over the table, "And you know the city better than any of my lords I'd wager."

Fuck. Aegon's throat bobbed, eyes wide. His gaze snapped to Rhaenyra, to Daemon. They were his only hope. His sister startled back, eyes fluttering.

Aegon couldn't be commander of the City Watch. He had to work with Aemond, keep an eye on him. Keep him safe. It would distract him, or worse. His imagination supplied images - the city on fire, Aemond flung from his dragon.

One of those scared him more than the other.

"What about Ser Gwayne?" Daemon cleared his throat. Aegon let out a breath as the king turned his head to look at him instead, brows arching.

"He's from a respectable house," Rhaenyra picked that suggestion up quickly. She gestured towards his mother with a flourish, and then to Daemon, "His reputation in the City Watch is well-established, and impeccable I'm sure."

Daemon snorted, grin twisting his expression, "A proper do-gooder, frequents the sept and not brothels."

"The queen's brother? That may give rise to rumors of favoritism," Mellos pursed his lips and Aegon muffled a scoff at his hypocrisy.

"And naming a prince without a knighthood would not?" Beesbury gave voice to his thoughts all the same, turning his head to smile at Aegon. "No offense intended, your grace."

Aegon nodded sharply, "I would agree with you, my lord." His voice shook only slightly, "My uncle would be a much better fit, I think."

Fingers going numb, Aegon's hand twitched as his mother finally released it. She inclined her head forward, "Gwayne is an honorable man, I can think of no one better to trust with the safety of this city."

"Ser Gwayne it shall be then," Viserys clapped his hands and sat back, smile wide as he joked, "He's already lasted longer in the Watch than our last four commanders put together."

Laughter rang out across the table. All but his grandfather. The hand managed to force a smile, jaw clenched tight. Their eyes met across the table. Aegon swallowed and turned his head.

Daemon's squint was not any better.

Chapter Text

Daemon followed him from the Small Council room. As did everyone else.

The king had taken to watching his nephews train every day, usually with someone from the Small Council. Beesbury most often, sometimes his grandfather.

Today it was all of them apparently. Rhaenyra and his mother stood side-by-side on the battlements, heads bowed together as they spoke, smiles broad. Daemon looked up at them as he followed Aegon into the yard.

"We'll have a proper audience today it seems," Daemon's eyebrows arched up and a sly grin spread over his face. Aegon stilled.

"We?" Aegon looked over his shoulder at his uncle, eyes narrowed. Daemon hummed. He rocked back on his heels, chin rising.

Cole arrived with Aemond and his nephews. Joffrey raced across the yard to him, his face colliding with Aegon's churning belly as he hugged him. Aegon wrapped an arm around him.

"Have fun at your lessons?" Aegon asked as Joffrey raised his head. His nephew's face scrunched up and his lips puckered, "Ah, boring was it?"

"Sums are hard," Joffrey whined, swaying backwards as he clung to Aegon's arm. He kept him steady, taking most of his weight as the boy swung his body around.

Several giggles sounded from the battlements and Aegon's gaze rose from his little nephew. The Small Council had been joined by half the court it seemed. Helaena and Rhaena now stood flanking his mother and Rhaenyra, along with several other ladies.

A few waved at him, lashes fluttering. Aegon swallowed thickly. His grandfather stood beside Helaena, surveying the yard with a tense jaw. He straightened and inclined his head forward, speaking in a low voice to his sister.

Cregan was joining them again it seemed. And Daemon.

"You are not the only one suffering through the tedium of court," Daemon hooked an arm around his neck, teeth bared as he smiled. He shook Aegon lightly, "Time for some fun, my beloved nephew."

"I have never felt more threatened in my entire life," Aegon told him, tugging Joffrey close. His nephew spun into him and Aegon huffed as Daemon threw back his head and laughed.

A squeeze at his shoulder and his uncle was off, yelling, "Ser Criston!" Aegon swallowed thickly. Crouching, he plastered on a smile for Joffrey as he ruffled his hair.

Cloaks were abandoned, practice swords picked up. Baela needled Aemond until he agreed to join her in the ring. Joffrey was quickly enraptured by their spar.

They were the flashiest of fighters. Both light on their feet, swords brandished with a flourish as they spun about the rung. Metal cracked loudly. Baela was quicker, but Aemond more powerful.

"Do you fight more like Aemond or like Baela?" Joffrey asked, distracted mid-combination by Rhaena's whoop when her sister landed a particularly good strike on Aemond's side. Helaena clapped loudly when Aemond disarmed her a moment later with a growl.

Knelt in the corner of the yard, Aegon turned his head towards the ring. He shrugged, "Neither." They were both good. Precise. It was obvious Baela spent a lot of time practicing, probably as much as Aemond, if not more.

Cole and Daemon entered the ring next. Both vicious with their strikes. They used live steel. Aegon frowned as he watched them.

The king's words from the Small Council filtered through his head. Cole was a knight. His form proper, a bit heavy-handed given his weapon preferences.

Aegon could only compare himself to Daemon. His uncle slapped the flat of his blade against Cole's leg to put him off balance before kicking his chest. The kingsguard went down to a knee, yielding quickly as Daemon raised his blade.

"Are you going to fight?" Joffrey asked, eyes wide, pleading as he looked from Aegon to the once more empty ring. He could hear Jace trying to cajole Luke.

"Yes, nephew, I'd be curious to see how you've progressed. Fully recovered now, aren't you?" Daemon drawled as he swaggered over.

The yard went quiet around them. Aegon laughed, tossing his hair over his shoulder, "Near enough, yes."

It wasn't a lie. The healer had relented, removing all of her restrictions but for the wine. A salve was applied to his thigh and his shoulder nightly.

His thigh still twinged, sending shooting pain up his leg occassionally. The muscles were tight. In his shoulder as well. Sensitive.

"I've yet to see you cross swords with anyone but Joffrey," Daemon pointed out, eyebrow arching. He waved a hand towards the ring, "Care for a dance?"

"Well, that wouldn't be fair to you, uncle," Aegon teased him, "You've just tired yourself out with Ser Criston. I wouldn't want to catch you at a disadvantage." His uncle's nostrils flared and his jaw snapped shut.

Across the yard, Aegon caught his brother's eye. Aemond was the only one who'd seen him practice properly. Hidden in the Kingswood, Vhagar the only witness to his struggling these past months.

His gaze flicked up to the battlements. Aegon was not eager to perform before an audience. Joffrey tugged on his sleeve, whining softly. His grandfather's eyes narrowed on him. Aegon's gaze slid towards his mother, pausing briefly on Helaena. His sister was pursing her lip.

"Lord Stark!" Aegon relented, rising to his feet. Joffrey cheered. A smirk on his lips, Aegon stalked towards the northerner.

He stood beside his other nephews, between them. Arms crossed, smiling softly as they teased one another. Jace's eyes were bright with laughter and Luke hovered at his side.

Cregan turned to face him, eyebrow quirked as he inclined his head forward, "Prince Aegon?" His gaze flicked down to Joffrey, vibrating with excitement as he held Aegon's hand, and then up to Daemon, looming over Aegon's shoulder.

"My little nephew wants to see me fight, would you be willing to assist me with a demonstration?" Aegon asked, leaning on the practice sword in his hand as he sunk the tip into the snow at their feet.

"I'd be honored, your grace," Cregan bowed his head. His lips twitched just slightly, gaze flicking towards their audience, "Live steel?"

With a sharp nod, Aegon hummed and stepped away. Joffrey darted away. He tossed his practice sword towards Aemond without a thought. His brother caught it, grumbling.

Aegon knelt beside the ring as Joffrey returned with his sword. He tugged open the clasps of his doublet and Joffrey's brow furrowed.

"This is my favorite doublet," Aegon traded him the sword for the embroidered black jacket. "You are to defend Sunfyre's likeness with your life, hmm?" Aegon bopped Joffrey's nose with his finger and his nephew giggled.

Joffrey stood beside Daemon a few paces away, Aegon's doublet held tightly in his arms. Luke took up a position at Joffrey's other side and Aegon threw him his sword's scabbard. He laughed as his nephew yelped, catching it with his fingers as it collided with his chest.

"It's not a game, brother," Aemond called out with a huff. Jace and Baela stood with him. All three of them watching closely as Aegon swung his sword lazily through the air. He tossed it from hand to hand, checking his grip.

The audience above him was whispering. A few were giggling. His brother was right, it was not a game.

Cole set the ground rules. First to yield or to bleed. A true fight had no rules. Aegon faced off with the Lord of Winterfell and refused to frown.

He tried to ignore all the eyes on him. The comparisons that they were all surely making. Jace's gaze, in particular, felt heavy on his body.

Cregan was taller than him. Broader. Ice was one of the few Valyrian blades that could ever dream of comparing itself to Blackfyre. He was an accomplished swordsman too. One of the best Aegon had ever seen, as good as Gwayne for sure, maybe even Cole and Daemon.

A handsome man, proficient. Proper. Aegon's chest grew tight.

"Don't go easy on me, my lord," Aegon gave a dramatic bow, nearly doubling over, arms spread wide, sword loose in his hand. "I'd hate for my old injuries to be held against me."

"I would not dream of it, your grace," Cregan chuckled, falling in to his stance. His sword rose up. Grip firm.

It was not a game, but a show. A performance. Orchestrated, no doubt, by the hand. Meant to illustrate Aegon's fitness, to remind the court of his prowess, the little he had, with a sword.

Aegon was lucky he'd gotten to choose his opponent at least. He was familiar with Cregan's fighting style, his habits. The man kept his feet well-planted, to offset his sword's heaviness. He fought like Aemond - with powerful swings and fierce attacks. Less graceful though, less fluid.

Ice was a greatsword of considerable length and Aegon was forced to duck away from the first strike. He side-stepped twice and raised his blade above his head. Ice came down, a heavy weight that Aegon had no hope of keeping aloft.

Ducking low, Aegon pushed in, putting Cregan on the defense. His sword was long, his reach considerable. In close-combat, he was at a disadvantage though. Cregan backed off, trying to increase the distance between them as he slashed at Aegon.

It didn't work. Aegon had only one advantage: his sword was lighter. He couldn't compete with Ice, so he didn't. He pushed in, relentless. Dodging strikes and moving closer.

With a kick at the ground, Aegon spun. His sword went down and then flicked upward. Cregan yelled as the snow hit his eyes. Half of it mud. Aegon raised his sword up as Ice came down wildly. His blade wet, Aegon let it slide, the metal shrieking.

A sweep of his leg and Cregan stumbled back. Ice kept its momentum, falling back. Aegon stepped to the side to avoid the blade as Cregan lost half his grip. His own sword sliced through the air and Cregan hissed. Blood bloomed across his cheek a moment before the Lord of Winterfell fell back into the snow. The weight of his own sword carrying him down.

"You may not be a knight, my lord, but you fight with honor," Aegon stood over him. Cregan scowled, a truly ferocious sight. Aegon offered him a hand and the man blinked, "I do not."

Applause, polite and otherwise, rose up from the battlements. As did curses. Bets had been lost up and down the ranks it seemed. One of the guards standing around the yard even tossed a bundle of coin towards Cole.

"Never bet against a dragon," Cole grinned at him and Aegon threw his head back in a laugh. Cregan joined him, head ducking low as Aegon released his hand. The northerner clapped at his arm and Aegon hissed, cringing as the man's palm hit the fresh bruise on his bicep.

He hid it quickly, smiling tightly as Joffrey came rushing over. Cregan frowned a moment. The man went stiff and Aegon ignored him, dropping to a crouch to greet his nephew.

"And what did you learn, hmm? From watching my fight?" Aegon asked him, eyes squinting at the boy. Joffrey drew up short. He chewed on his bottom lip.

"You got really close, so he couldn't use his sword right," Joffrey tilted his head and Aegon nodded. His brow furrowed, "And then you got him off balance."

Tapping at his chin, Aegon smiled, "Exactly. I fought the man, not the sword." He looked over his shoulder to survey Ice. "Would've been as doomed as Valyria fighting that thing."

Joffrey giggled. Another laugh rose up behind him. Jace's deep chuckle. He shoved at Cregan's arm, "I think Egg just said your sword is scarier than you, Creg."

"On this, I would agree with him, your grace," Cregan drawled, hefting Ice up with a sigh. "I'm still growing accustomed to its weight."

Aegon met Jace's gaze for just a moment as Cregan spoke about the history of the sword, the reason for its size. Not a single word reached Aegon's ears. The deep honey color of his nephew's eyes had his throat bobbing and heat pulsing through his body.

Even when he ducked his head, Aegon could see his face. The quirk of his lips, the red of his nose from the cold. Every detail seared into his mind alongside those eyes. Eyes that lingered on him.

Heavy. Warm. Gut twisting, Aegon pushed a hand through his hair and tried to focus on Joffrey. On his younger nephew. He didn't notice his uncle approaching them.

"Warmed up enough yet nephew?" Daemon stood behind Joffrey, hands squeezing at the boy's shoulder. Aegon looked up at him. His uncle grinned, eyes flashing, violet now an inky purple, as dark as his vicious smirk. "Can't hide behind your nephew forever now."

With Cregan, the court had whispered, giggled. Excitement had zipped around the yard, through the battlement.

No such excitement erupted when he faced off with Daemon. A heavy foreboding settled over them instead. The king leaned forward in his seat. Rhaenyra stood from hers, hand rubbing over her stomach. His mother was stiff, eyes wide.

Vaguely, Aegon wondered who had bet on him over Daemon, if anyone had bothered.

A faint humming drew his attention to the side of the ring as Helaena entered the yard. Aemond was at her side in moments, forehead creased. She waved off Aemond's concerns, fingers twitching as she approached Aegon.

"Brother," Helaen beckoned him over. He stepped from the ring, eyebrow arching. She reached for his left arm and pushed his sleeve up. His fingers twitched at her touch.

Her own mark surely tortured her as much as his did, yet she was warmer than him as her hand grazed over his forearm. Aegon scowled. Helaena clicked her tongue.

"You are aware this isn't a tourney or a duel?" Aegon asked as she tied a pale blue piece of fabric around his forearm, a second layer of wrapping over Vermax's bright colors. Only the three of them could see it, faint as it was beneath the thick dark scarf he'd tied around his arm that morning.

"You don't like tourneys," Helaena hummed as she knotted her favor. She rolled his sleeve back down and stepped back, "You won last time, defending my honor." She laughed lightly, eyes shimmering as she smiled at him, "Go do it again."

Aemond chuckled. His eye brightened as he crossed his arms, "If you lose, I'm sending Vhagar after you." Aegon squawked and shoved at his brother's arm.

"Vhagar would have to catch me first!" Aegon hissed as he headed back to the ring. Luke and Joffrey both giggled as Aegon gestured crudely at his brother. A smirk twitched at Jace's lips.

His siblings moved to join his nephew. Rhaena appeared in the yard to loop her arm with her sister's, both girls teasing their father from the sidelines. Only Cole stood near the ring, reminding them both of the rules.

"First blood, or a yield," Cole stepped from the muddy circle. Snow crunched beneath their feet as Aegon and Daemon sunk into their stances. "Begin!"

Daemon rushed him and Aegon blocked his blade, pushing off and using the momentum to spin away. He slashed at Daemon's head. His sword met Dark Sister and Aegon kicked mud up as he danced away.

Unlike Cregan, Daemon fought dirty. He was well-prepared for Aegon's tricks, dodging distractions and every attempt to trip him up. Mostly because he was busy trying to do the same to Aegon.

They were well-matched in that regard. A fact the king remarked on, loudly, and with great amusement, "The family resemblance is somehow even stronger on the field of battle, hmm?"

"Yes, father," Rhaenyra's chuckle was slightly breathy. Aegon imagined she was either furrowing her brow or clenching her jaw. He couldn't spare a glance as he ducked an back-handed swing.

Joffrey cheered for him when Aegon managed to hit Daemon's arm with the flat of his blade. He hadn't been aiming for it, would've used the sharp edge if he had. His uncle growled all the same.

A foot rose for his thigh and Aegon stepped back with his right foot to avoid the kick. He cursed as Dark Sister flew up, aiming for his undefended left side.

The blade ripped his shirt, slicing up his sleeve. Aegon's breath hitched as he jumped back. He let himself stumble to the ground. His sword clattering beside him. There was no blood, but Aegon drew his arm in, holding it to his chest as he yelled.

Curling onto his side, Aegon ducked his head. The blade had managed to snag the top of the wrapping around his mark. Only Helaena's knotted handkerchief kept the scarf from unraveling.

He whimpered just the same as his uncle approached. Dark Sister fell to his side as Daemon stepped closer. His voice was tight, worry dripping from his lips as voices rose up all around them the longer Aegon remained still.

"Aegon? Are you hurt?" Daemon took another step and Aegon sprang up. His uncle yelped as Aegon tackled him. Dark Sister was knocked from his hand. He grinned viciously as Daemon fell back.

"I believe that's first blood, uncle," Aegon laughed as he pinned his uncle at his shoulders. The knuckles of his sword hand were bloody from Daemon's nose as the man snarled beneath him.

Face twisting, Daemon's gaze dropped from his face to his arm. Aegon paled. His head snapped to his mark.

It wasn't visible. His wrapping was loose, but Helaena's handkerchief kept it in place. The pale blue a second layer overtop. His sleeve had been ripped, but the fabric had folded over his...

Daemon's eyes narrowed on his bicep. On the bruise. A bright red handprint that wrapped around his arm.

"Where did you get that?" Daemon asked, voice low, dangerous as Aegon scrambled for the remnants of his shirt. He rose up, clamoring off his uncle with a cough.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, uncle," Aegon flashed him a smile, cheeks burning. His uncle was not the only one looking at him.

Most of the eyes were not curious though. A few hungry gazes grazed over his bare chest, the skin pink as he caught his breath.

"That is not the sort of mark a whore leaves," Daemon hissed in his ear as he followed him up. Aegon met his gaze. Jaw set. His uncle glared back at his arm. "Who did that?"

"Why would you care?" Aegon snapped at him, lips curling back.

They were alone in the ring still, their voices so low no one could hear their exchange. A reality that was changing quickly as Joffrey rushed over, squealing with delight, already asking questions.

"Ah!" Aegon leaned over, wrinkling his nose as Joffrey stopped before him, "Sunfyre first. Did you take care of my favorite doublet properly?"

"I did!" Joffrey hoisted it up and Argon was quick to slide his left arm into its sleeve. Baela whined as he reached for the clasps.

"Come now, cousin, we were all enjoying the view," Baela drawled, smirking as her sister flushed crimson. Aegon shot her a look, but she merely snickered.

Daemon leveled his eyes on his eldest daughter, "Baela, please, some discretion." She snorted and nodded up at the battlements.

The ladies who'd come with Helaena and Rhaena were not shy in their attention. Aegon offered them a smirk and an exaggerated bow, earning him a few giggles as they all blushed.

"Must you encourage them?" Jace snapped as he joined Joffrey. His hands squeezed at his brother's shoulders, lips pursed tightly.

"Just a bit of fun, nephew," Aegon teased him. His hands rose up to cup Joffrey's face, his palms over his ears as he ducked his head closer, "I prefer my bedfellows to have a bit more experience than a blushing maiden anyway."

Jace's cheeks burned and he turned his head, coughing lightly. It was Baela who responded, grinning mischievously, "You also like to be the prettiest in bed, the way I hear it."

That had Jace rolling his shoulders back and dragging Joffrey away. His younger nephew squawked, already whining before Jace picked him up. He whisked his brother out of the training yard with a gruff whisper, "They're discussing adult topics now, Joff, you can ask him about his technique tomorrow."

"Yes, I'd be very curious to learn about your *technique* cousin," Baela arched a brow and Daemon looked skyway.

"On that note," Cole cleared his throat, gaze pointedly averted, "I believe it time to return to our proper lesson." Baela skipped forward, pressing a kiss to her father's cheek. Aemond followed after, cheeks pink.

Aegon stooped to pick up his sword. Luke returned his scabbard and he ruffled the boy's hair. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, dropping his voice low, "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't wear anything too conspicuous."

"Yes, uncle," Luke nodded sharply before running off to join the lesson. Aegon fell into step with Helaena as he left the training yard, accompanying her and Rhaena up to the battlements.

"Well, that was quite the show," his mother greeted him with a bright smile. Her arm was looped with Rhaenyra's.

Grinning at him, Rhaenyra's eyebrows shot up, "Will you be teaching Joff to throw a punch too, Egg?"

He shrugged, chuckling softly, "If he wants." His gaze flicked from one woman to the other as they descended into giggles.

A hand took his and a jolt of heat ran through Aegon's palm. He glanced down at his mother's fingers as they wrapped around his. She dragged him closer and kissed his temple.

"Perhaps the next time the two of you grow bored during court, we'll just let you have a bout and wake us all up," the king joked as Daemon strolled up behind him. His uncle snarked back, but Aegon was staring at his mother's hand.

Warmth spreading from her fingertips, almost enough to combat the cold that had taken hold of him. The exertion of his fight with Daemon had kept the chilly air from settling in his bones, but his mark kept him shivering every now and then just the same.

His eyes flicked up to his mother's forearm. Aegon squinted at the thick fabric of her sleeve.

Anyone with Valyrian blood could have a soulmark. His mother place her other hand on Rhaenyra's bump and the fingers around his palm grew hotter before they were pulled away.

"Are you alright brother?" Helaena asked him, head tilting as he turned from their mother. He waved her off.

"Fine," Aegon mumbled, arm unconsciously rising to his chest as his gaze fell on the training yard. Jace had returned. He moved through the combination Cole had assigned with fluid motions, feet planted firmly.

His mark pulsed and Aegon fled the battlement. He excused himself with a flippant remark about fetching wine. It earned him several frowns, but no one stopped him.

Chapter Text

Chest tight, Aegon burst into his room. He leaned back against the door. Eyes squeezing shut, he inhaled sharply.

Perhaps he was just making assumptions. Projecting. Casting his mother and Rhaenyra into his own position.

Lots of people thought the Hightowers were Valyrian though. Or descendants of Valyria at least. The Hightower itself a forgotten outpost of the dragonlords before the Andals had claimed it as their own.

His mother's cousins had the coloring even. One of Daeron's letters had mentioned that a visitor had confused him and Lyonel for one another. Gwayne and his mother were suppose to look like their own mother. Her hair and her soft features, the same features Aegon had himself.

"Fuck!" Aegon scrubbed his hands down his face and sat on the floor. He couldn't recall a single time he'd ever seen his mother's forearms uncovered.

Even her nightgowns had long sleeves. She had long sleeve shirts for beneath gowns that had those cut sleeves.

Modesty. The queen always cited her modesty, the virtues of the Seven.

Aegon tugged his doublet off, casting it aside with shaking hands. He carefully undid Helaena's knot. The blue handkerchief and the black scarf fell to the floor. One of them in several pieces.

Could his mother have a soulmark? Was he doomed to walk in her footsteps? To forever pine for someone who would find love with another.

Vermax stared up at him and Aegon wondered if his mother had ever stared at her own arm, searching for answers. Rhaenyra and Daemon had matching soulmarks according to his nephew. Jace had mentioned it several times now.

Did hers match too? Was it just Rhaenyra? Had she known, when she married the king?

No. Aegon swallowed. She'd been too young for it to appear. If... if he remembered right, she turned ten and six while pregnant with him. Her mark would've appeared while he was growing in her womb.

"She's always been cold..." Aegon mumbled to himself, blinking tears from his eyes as they fell onto his arm. His vision blurred. "Am I always going to be cold too?"

The longing looks. The sadness that had grown up right alongside him. It wasn't just that Daeron had been sent away.

His mother had lost her chance at happiness before he'd even been born. His birth had sealed her fate. The first born son of a king, forever a threat to Rhaenyra's claim.

A challenge, from his first breath to his last. If she supported Rhaenyra, she would have to lead him to slaughter. Let him die to save herself.

"She chose me..." Aegon realized, gut churning. Bile rose in his throat. He pressed the back of his hand to his lips and tilted his head back.

The ceiling provided no comfort from the crushing realization. If the tower crumbled down on his head, Aegon was certain it would hurt less.

At his back, the door moved, pushing in. His body blocked it and Aegon gasped. He scrambled for the scarf, for his doublet.

"Aegon?" Daemon's voice cut through his panic. A hand hammered at the door. His uncle shouted for him and Aegon wiped furiously at his face.

Daemon forced the door open, leaving Aegon sprawled across the floor. His forearm wrapped in a scarf and his doublet as he stared up at Daemon, eyes ringed red.

"Are you alright, your grace?" Ser Arryk stood behind Daemon, forehead wrinkled, "Prince Daemon said you'd been hurt-"

"I'm fine!" Aegon snapped, clutching at his arm as he sat up. He scrambled back, scooting on his bottom in an attempt to put more distance between himself and the two men.

Unfortunately, his shirt was still cut. Dark Sister had slashed up the entire left sleeve and across the shoulder. The ties were useless now, with the left side now hanging open, revealing half his chest and his entire arm.

Ser Arryk's eyes narrowed on the bruise just as Daemon's had in the training yard, "Where did you get that?"

"It doesn't matter," Aegon tugged at the strips of fabric hanging from his shoulder. He tried to hide the bruise, pulling his knees up and tucking his arm close to his chest.

Daemon and Ser Arryk only stepped closer, following him as he tried to get away. His uncle scoffed, "You're a prince of House Targaryen and someone has hurt you, it certainly does matter!"

A hand reached for him and Aegon growled. He wanted them to leave. Needed them too. His breath was coming in shuddering spurts. His mark burning, like ice had been pressed directly to his skin.

"Tell that to my brother's eye!" Aegon snarled and both men froze. It was a low blow. Unexpected at that. They faltered. Ser Arryk paled and Daemon's eyes flashed.

He had only a moment, and Aegon used it to get his feet underneath him. Rising up, chin high, Aegon glared at them. Tears clung to his lashes, his chest heaved.

"Leave me be," Aegon commanded, voice sharp. Lips curling back, he sneered, "If I wanted your help I'd ask for it!"

"You-" Daemon was cut off by the kingsguard. Ser Arryk grabbed his shoulders, physically hauling Daemon from the room even as the man protested. His uncle was dumped in the hallway.

Ser Arryk bowed low in the threshold, gaze cast to the floor, "I will be just outside, your grace, should you need anything." His head rose. Eyes trembled. "Anything at all."

"No one in," Aegon told him, throat bobbing. His voice wavered now as he stared into his protector's worried eyes. "No one in until I leave."

The door clicked shut and Aegon crumpled back to the floor, sobbing as he listened to the two men argue on the other side of the door. Daemon raged, screaming profanities and demanding to be let in. Ser Arryk stood firm.

Leaving his doublet on the floor with the cut scarf, Aegon scrambled back to his feet, leveraging the foot of his bed to drag himself up. He took deep breaths, willing his chest to stop heaving.

It didn't, but he cleaned up anyway. Aegon shrugged his shirt off. He washed the mud and sweat from the yard off with a rag and the basin of waters left by the maids.

Gripping the edge of his table, Aegon closed his eyes. He could ask his mother, question her. Her smile on the battlements popped into his mind. Her joy.

He couldn't rob her of that. Taking another breath, Aegon raised shaking hands to his face. His fingers pushing back through his hair, he exhaled.

"I'll just ask someone else," Aegon clicked his tongue and turned to dress. He filtered through the possibilities. The courtiers who had been at court when Rhaenyra and his mother were young.

Not many remained. Fewer still that would be willing to speak to him. None would do so without reporting back to one of them. The ladies who had served Queen Aemma had been dismissed, married off to far flung lords.

The senior members of the kingsguard had been witness to their youth, to their falling out. Ser Criston, Ser Harrold. Still though, they'd definitely report on his questioning. Ser Criston especially.

Gwayne had been at court. Daemon. His fingers paused on the fastenings of a fresh doublet. Plain. Perfect for slipping through Flea Bottom.

"Mysaria knows Daemon," Aegon smirked. He chuckled, hand dragging down his face. She'd known his uncle a long while, neither had specified just how long, but it would make sense for them to have met when Daemon had been commander of the City Watch.

Lord Flea Bottom. His grandfather still referred to Daemon that way, at times. A would be Maegor, who'd spent all his time with whores when he wasn't causing trouble at court.

Aegon grabbed his cloak and headed for the window. He hadn't told Ser Arryk how he planned to leave, but Aegon had felt Sunfyre stirring in the back of his mind since the moment he'd entered his room.

"Come!" Aegon called and Sunfyre's screech betrayed his anxiety. His dragon was close, circling the Red Keep.

The arguing from the hall outside his door quieted. Something banged against the wood. Or someone. Likely Ser Arryk, given the crashing sounds of metal.

He jumped, legs kicking out, spreading wide. With a huff, Aegon landed in his saddle, hands squeezing at the reins as he settled in. Glancing back, he caught sight of Daemon, glowering at him as he stood in Aegon's window, watching Sunfyre rise in the air. Ser Arryk stood behind him, scowling at his uncle and rubbing at his chin.

Neither could do anything now. Aegon smirked and turned his head. He pressed a kiss to golden scales, "My rescuer."

Sunfyre preened as they took off over the Blackwater. They skimmed low and Aegon took his first steady breath since he'd left the training yard. The bay had iced over. Cracks betrayed the tumultuous current beneath the thin layer of ice and snow.

Looping the city, Aegon half-expected to feel panic rise in his chest, as it had before when he flew. His daily lessons with Aemond had paid off though it seemed.

The wind whipped through his hair. Sunfyre leveled out as they soared over the clouds. He spread his arms out wide and exhaled lightly. Laughter followed as Sunfyre huffed a bit of smoke.

Warmth spread to his fingertips as Aegon sunk into his dragon. This was how it was meant to be, flying. No fear or panic, the only worry what trick he wanted to do next.

His shoulders were light. Even his aches and pains dulled.

"Nest," Aegon hummed as he took hold of the reins again. He bowed his head to Sunfyre's scales. His dragon grumbled, but Aegon merely smiled, "We shall fly more tomorrow. I have to escape your lair before Daemon arrives to yell at me."

With a growl, they descended into the Dragon Pit. Aegon slipped from his saddle with ease. He hadn't bothered to strap himself in and when they reached the corridor of Sunfyre's lair, he parted from his dragon. Sunfyre sniffed at him and Aegon cooed back. He pressed his forehead to the dragon's golden maw.

"Tomorrow, my love," Aegon promised and pressed a final kiss to rough scales. Sunfyre whined. His nostrils flared and hot air enveloped Aegon. He stayed warm, mostly, all the way to Mysaria's.

"My lord," Mysaria greeted him with her hands clasped in front of her, a serene smile firmly in place, "You've come earlier than I expected, but your room is being prepared-"

"I need to speak with you," Aegon said quickly. He pushed his hood back and cleared his throat, "Privately." Her eyes fluttered as he rolled his shoulders back.

A hand gestured forward and she waved him down a hallway. The opposite direction as his room. Mysaria led him deeper into the brothel than he normally went. Laughter and music rose up as they crossed a catwalk overlooking an open room. Below them whores were dancing and patrons drinking.

On the other side, open doorways revealed small bedrooms, decorated brightly with gossy fabrics, a few books scattered about. Aegon recognized one of the whores napping in their bed.

He flushed, looking away, fixing his gaze on Mysaria's back. The long curtain of her dark hair as it flowed over her white dress. Aegon had given little thought to where the whores might sleep. He tried to give them as little thought as possible, generally. He knew none of their names, had never requested any of them specifically.

"What is it you wish to speak about?" Mysaria asked as she led him into an office at the end of the hallway. She closed the door. The lock clicked.

"My mother," Aegon swallowed thickly, ducking his head as she walked past him. Her steps paused. He pursed his lips, "Her and Rhaenyra." She blinked, turning to face him fully. "You... you knew Daemon, when they were young, right?"

Mysaria arched a brow, "What would you wish me to tell Daemon, if he were to ask about the things you have shared with me?" Aegon looked away.

Cheeks burning, Aegon's hands fisted in his cloak as Mysaria crossed to her desk. He huffed, "I don't want to know about Daemon." He looked up at her, eyes wide, "I need to understand why..." Aegon bit his bottom lip. "...why they are the way they are now."

"It is common knowledge that Queen Alicent grew up at court as the Princess Rhaenyra's dear friend," Mysaria stated firmly. She sat straight in her chair, hands folded on the desk.

She'd not directed him to sit in one of the chairs around the room. Her gaze was quite pointedly focused on his face. Aegon placed his hands on the back of a chair, squeezing at the wood, "How dear a friend though?"

Silence stretched. He didn't look away. Mysaria's eyes seemed to bore into his. Aegon had been naked in front of her dozens of times without a care, but under her scrutiny he found his shoulders hunching.

"They've argued more than they've gotten along for most of my life," Aegon added, fidgeting, "Avoiding one another, stilted conversations, but always looking to each other." He rolled his shoulders, "But sometimes, they smiled. And today they were laughing."

Fingers drummed on the table and Mysaria leaned back. "I will not speak to specifics shared with me by your uncle." She narrowed her gaze on him, "But they were very close. Hardly seen apart at all, before the wedding was announced. I wasn't in the city at that point, so I cannot say for sure, but there were many rumors upon my return."

"The wedding? When Rhaenyra married Laenor?" Aegon asked and Mysaria's lips pursed. "No?" Brow furrowing, Aegon tilted his head, "When my mother married the king?" Mysaria nodded.

It had been a fairly simple affair, Aegon thought, at least for a king. No one had ever mentioned anything happening. Unlike Rhaenyra's wedding.

He'd always assumed that was the start of it, of their animosity. Ser Criston had killed a man at Rhaenyra's wedding. His mother's swordshield dueling with the best friend of Ser Laenor and taking his life. The court had never grown tired of the tale and it was exaggerated more each year.

Aegon had never been told the specifics. Not by his mother or by Cole. His mother spoke even less about her own wedding. A few complaints about the dress, a joke about his conception and the golden wings that had decorated the gown.

"There was talk, when I returned, of the princess withdrawing after your mother was wed," Mysaria inclined her head forward, eyebrows arching high, "She was rarely seen by the court, spent her time alone save a singer she liked and her kingsguard protector, Ser Criston."

"Ser Criston?" Aegon choked, eyes fluttering, "My mother's swornshield was Rhaenyra's protector?" Again, Mysaria nodded. He groaned, hands ruffling through his hair. "That doesn't make any sense!"

Cole had never said anything against Rhaenyra to him, but he knew the man disliked her. He grumbled about her, occassionally, when he thought no one but his mother was listening. And only when the queen was angry with Rhaenyra, for one reason or another.

"Yes, he even accompanied her on a royal tour, before her betrothal to Ser Laenor," Mysaria tilted her head, eyes narrowing, "You did not know of their past friendship?"

"No," Aegon shook his head. It didn't matter whether she meant Rhaenyra and Cole or Rhaenyra and his mother.

He'd thought the line had been drawn when he was born. His mother had hovered near it at times, especially when he was younger, before Daeron had been sent away. But always he'd known it was there.

Rhaenyra was on one side and Aegon the other. Two sides in a conflict that was as inevitable as the sunrise.

"Who was her protector, before Ser Criston?" Aegon asked, leaning over her chair. Cole had only joined the kingsguard shortly before his mother became queen, that, at least, he did know.

"Ser Harrold," Mysaria told him, just before a knock sounded on her door. She rose to her feet and shooed him towards a corner.

Aegon sunk into the wall, hidden by the door itself as she opened it. His head tilted back as she whispered with the person on the other side.

If Mysaria would not share any details she learned from Daemon, he'd need to find another way. Maybe talk to Ser Harrold.

"Fine. Bring him up." Mysaria snapped before closing the door. She glared at the back of it before turning to him, "I assume you do not wish to speak with your uncle?"

"Is he here?!" Aegon hissed, startling off the wall. His gaze snapped to the door as she nodded sharply.

With a sigh, she gestured towards the door behind her desk, "Hide in there. Touch nothing."

He moved swiftly, ducking into the room with a short bob of his head. On the other side, he found another small chamber with a bed in it. Aegon took one look at the white cloak thrown over the back of a chair and swiftly turned around to face the door.

This was her bed chamber. Mysaria's bed chamber. Aegon looked up at the ceiling and prayed for mercy. He wasn't sure which of the Seven could protect him from the wrath of a woman known as Lady Misery, but it couldn't hurt to ask all of them.

"Where is he?!" Daemon's voice boomed and Aegon pressed his ear to the door.

Mysaria's drawl was dripping with disdain, "Lost your nephew again have you, my prince?" Daemon snarled. "My establishment is not currently entertaining any dragons, regardless."

Aegon smirked to himself as Daemon seethed, "You must have some idea where he is!"

"Would you like me to share such information about yourself with Aegon?" Mysaria asked, with significantly more heat than when she'd said the same to him.

Did that mean Mysaria like him better? His smirk turned smug. His uncle scoffed. A chair creaked.

"Someone has hurt him, he refuses to tell me who," Daemon's voice lowered. Softened really. Aegon's shoulders twitched.

"Prince Aegon is not a man who asks for help," Mysaria hummed. Aegon wrinkled his nose. "He does things his own way, just like you."

Why did everyone keep saying that?! Aegon bit his lip to keep from whining. He couldn't be *that* much like Daemon. Jace hated Daemon!

"I'm his uncle!" Daemon huffed and the slap of skin on wood did not bode well for Mysaria's chairs. "Whether he asks for it or not, I am going to help him! Protect him!"

It was Mysaria that scoffed this time. Another creak of a chair, louder, closer. She said nothing.

"Shut up! I know," Daemon growled, "I have never been good at this sort of thing. You needn't rub it in."

"I suppose chasing your nephew around Flea Bottom is better than ditching your niece in a brothel..." Mysaria clicked her tongue.

Daemon groaned, "What else am I meant to do?! Every time I try to speak with him he seems to run off!" A scuffle sounded and a chair creaked again. "Or he hits me. Which I'm beginning to prefer at this point..."

"Yes, I'd heard," Mysaria chuckled, her laughter light and breathy. "Your throat seems to be healing quite well, my prince."

"This is not a fight any man can fight alone, Mysaria," Daemon said softly. His footsteps echoed in the silence that followed.

Aegon listened to him pace the room. His hand rose to his chest, rubbing absently at his sternum as he leaned against the door. He ducked his head.

His uncle didn't know he was there. Daemon wasn't speaking to him, or in front of the court. It wasn't posturing, or an act. Aegon's forehead wrinkled.

"I know you care, Daemon," Mysaria's chair knocked against the door as she pushed it back and Aegon startled. His hand slapped over his mouth as he yelped. Mysaria continued without pause, "But I cannot solve the problems of House Targaryen any more than I could all those years ago."

"Mys-" Daemon's voice cut out mid-word. He whined, "I understand."

"Go talk to your wife," Mysaria told him and a few moments later, the door opened.

The office was empty. Mysaria arched an eyebrow at him, hands clasped in front of her stomach. Aegon cleared his throat, "I didn't touch anything."

Her lips quirked up and Mysaria inclined her head forward, "Good." She stepped back, "Now go home. You will not find any further answers here."

Chapter Text

Aegon didn't make a habit of eavesdropping, but it was rather unavoidable when he spent so much time in the walls and hidden hallways of the Red Keep. He enjoyed it far more when the people on the other side of the wall were having sex rather than arguing.

Given it was Rhaenyra and Daemon though, he was making an exception for that preference as he hunkered down in the narrow pathway behind their bedchamber's fireplace. The warmth leaking through the stones was also a plus. It just meant his view through the grate was more than a little obscured by smoke.

"I cannot fathom why he won't tell me who the bastard is?!" Daemon spat out as he paced the length of the room. Rhaenyra was sat at her dressing table removing her jewelry. His uncle sneered, "Obviously he's protecting someone!"

Hands pausing at her ear, Rhaenyra's forehead creased, "Who would Egg-"

"I don't know!" Daemon snapped, whirling around. Rhaenyra arched a brow as he threw his hands up, "That whore mother of his maybe! Or that cunt Otto!"

Jaw clenched tight, Aegon scowled through the grate. His hand twitched towards his sword.

"Daemon..." Rhaenyra sighed, turning fully to frown at him. "Alicent would never hurt her son." He groused, arms crossing. "You're angry-"

He scoffed, head falling back and arms going wide, "Of course I'm angry! Some twat is leaving bruises on a Targaryen prince!" Daemon kicked at a stool, spinnng around to start pacing again. His teeth were visible as he growled, "And my nephew is protecting them!"

Rhaenyra rose from her seat and Daemon was quick to attend her, reaching out to take her arm, to steady her. She flashed a quick smile and raised her other hand to his cheek, "Daemon, my love, I understand, I agree with you."

"I'm going to rip their throat out," Daemon grumbled and Rhaenyra chuckled, her smile growing wider.

"If you want my brother to trust you," Rhaenyra told him, gaze pointed, "Do not let your jealousy cloud your judgement." Daemon's mouth snapped shut.

Aegon narrowed his eyes. A blush rose on Daemon's cheek, just barely visible through the smoke. His uncle scoffed, breathy, nervous, "I am not jealous."

His sister hummed, hand patting at her husband's cheek, "Alicent is the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. I still remember you asking for her favor, my love."

"That was years ago! It is hardly relevant!" Daemon sputtered, nose wrinkling. Aegon's scrunched up as well. Rhaenyra snorted. "I am not jealous!"

"You most certainly are!" Rhaenyra cackled, head falling back. Daemon scowled. Her mouth had spread into a proper grin, "Truly, I am merely uncertain of who, at this moment."

His uncle was whining, head falling forward. Daemon pressed his forehead to Rhaenyra's shoulder. His voice barely carried far enough for Aegon to hear his soft "Nyra~"

"Is it my father? For getting Alicent? For hoarding her beauty all to himself? So selfish of him, really," Rhaenyra drawled, biting at her lip as Daemon raised his head. "Or is it the queen? For having his attention and affection?" Rhaenyra continued to tease him and Aegon gagged.

"I could ask the same of you," Daemon shot back. He smirked as Rhaenyra shoved at his shoulders. His uncle fell backwards, chuckling darkly. An eyebrow arched up, "I saw you flirting with the queen, your grace. Right in front of her husband no less, how improper."

Their voices went low, husky, as they continued to tease one another. About his mother. Aegon fled when he heard his sister moan.

Disgusting! Was there anyone in this fucking family who didn't want to fuck his mother? It was bad enough the king kept calling her to his room every night.

This did, in the most horrifying way possible, confirm that the friendship his mother and Rhaenyra had once shared probably hadn't been entirely platonic. At least not on Rhaenyra's end.

A bed creaked behind him. His sister shouted something in Valyrian. Aegon ducked around a corner in the walls and wished for dragonfire.

"I will admit he's attractive, especially after today," Baela was laughing. Aegon ignored her at first, until he heard who she was talking to.

"I told you! He's gorgeous!" Jace whined and Aegon stopped short. His eyes flicked around, hands reaching for the stone around him.

There had to be away to see into the room.

His nephew groaned, "Did you see his face when he won that last bout?" Aegon frowned. "His face flushed? His smirk? I wanted to die!"

Who were they talking about? Aegon puckered his lips. He should have cut Cregan's face a bit more... he wouldn't have been able to fight anyone after him if-

"I was busy looking at his chest, I can see Aegon looking smug any day," Baela scoffed. Aegon flushed.

His fingers found a pinhole in the stone. Aegon pressed himself to the wall.

Jace's room. They were sprawled out on his nephew's bed. Baela was flicking through a book, a poor imitation of reading as Jace glared up at the ceiling, arms flung wide.

"Has he always had muscles like that?" Baela clicked her tongue and looked pointedly at Jace. He shrugged.

"Yeah, at least since he got back from the Stepstones, I guess. I hadn't seen him shirtless much before then," Jace blushed, biting at his bottom lip. "His legs are nice too."

Baela abandoned the book entirely and leaned over Jace's head, "Just how much of him have you seen, cousin?!"

The air was suddenly very thin in this passageway. Aegon tugged open his doublet and ran a hand up his neck. All the while Jace groaned, "Almost all of him."

Aegon had never heard such a detailed description of his own body before. Certainly not in so whiny a voice. Needy. Jace scrubbed his hands down his face as he mumbled about how firm Aegon's ass was.

"But now I can't touch him!" Jace popped up, hands fisting in his hair. "He's completely avoiding me, just like Hightower wants, because he thinks I was just trying to use him."

"Well, maybe should've told him what you were up to, with grandfather," Baela said, voice chilly as she raised her chin, "Just like you should've told me."

Eyes rolled and Jace flopped back onto his bed, "I already apologized for that. You said you were going to help me fix things with Aegon." Lips curling, Jace stared at the ceiling again, "He's probably at a brothel right now, letting other people touch him..."

With a hum, Baela leaned on his shoulder, "Maybe you should go to a brothel." Jace's head snapped to the side.

"What?!" Jace gaped at her, eyes wide, and Baela just shrugged. "Are you mad?! I'm an heir to the Iron Throne, I can't go to a brothel!"

"My father did, when he was the heir. And Egg is an heir too, he goes all the time, right?" Baela quirked an eyebrow.

Jace rolled his shoulder, shoving her off as he sat up. "I am not Daemon!" Jace hissed at her, nose wrinkling, "And Egg is different!"

"Why?" Baela leaned on the bed, eyebrow quirking up, "You heard him yourself, he likes his bedfellows experienced. A brothel would give you some."

"I know how to have sex, Baela," Jace huffed, arms crossing even as his cheeks flared red. Aegon shifted against the wall, throat bobbing.

Clicking her tongue, Baela tilted her head. Jace squawked. She laughed, "You've only been with that one squire and the blacksmith's apprentince. That's only two. Aegon's probably been with like... hundreds by now."

It wasn't that many. Aegon's forehead wrinkled. He went to the same brothels over and over, before Mysaria's. And once he'd started having men fuck him, he was fairly positive Mysaria rotated the same five or six whores.

Dozens maybe. Yeah. Dozens was better. Probably.

"I made him cum without even touching his cock," Jace argued, jaw set. Baela's eyes fluttered. His nephew cringed, "And then he shoved me away because the stupid Hand knows I've been with men."

"Fine, no brothel," Baela sighed, head tilting the other way as Jace sunk sideways into the mattress. "Probably better, since my father said he doesn't want any of us going out into the city for a bit."

Aegon blinked slowly. Jace shuffled around, rolling onto his stomach to look up at Baela, "Did he tell you why? He wouldn't give me anything when I asked."

Arms crossing, Baela straightened up, "Did you actually ask or did you just argue?" Jace shrugged, lips puckering. She snorted, "Stupid question. But no, he just said it was more dangerous right now, with the tourney in another week."

"Okay, back to Aegon then," Jace propped himself up on his elbow. He nudged Baela's leg.

"Well, there's the obvious solution," Baela drawled and Jace blinked at her. Aegon squinted at his cousin as she rolled her eyes. She swatted Jace's head, "Just talk to him, you idiot!"

"I tried talking to him!" Jace scowled, "He sent me away!" His arms flew out and Aegon found himself tracing the long line of his nephew's throat in his head as Jace tossed his head back, "I keep making it worse!"

A pillow collided with Jace's head, "Talk to him when he's not having a breakdown!" Baela hit him a second time, grinding the pillow into his face as she talked to him, "And don't get distracted by how pretty he is!"

"That's impossible," Jace whined, arms rising above his head to defend against a third attack. His eyes squeezed shut, "It's like he was born to distract me. With his eyes and his smile." His next few words were muffled as he buried his head in the mattress.

Baela hit him with the pillow a few more times and then began to pet at his hair, "If you ever want him in your bed, you're gonna have to tell him how you feel."

A muffled groan sounded from beneath the pillow. "I told him I loved him!" Aegon's chest tightened. His eyes fluttered as Jace raised his head. "I don't think he believed me. Or, maybe he didn't understand that I meant-"

"That's why you have to actually talk!" Baela shoved him and Jace tumbled off the bed to the floor. She loomed over him, kneeling on the edge of the bed, "Helaena's the same way. Every time me or Rhaena compliment her, we have to explain why. It's like she cannot fathom that we're telling the truth."

"Helaena's kind of weird though..." Jace mumbled, eyebrow arching as he sat up. Arms wrapping around his knees, he ducked his head, "I guess Egg is too... and Aemond."

Nose wrinkling, Aegon rolled his shoulders back. They weren't weird... Well, Helaena was, but that was different.

"Mother says the queen was like that too?" Jace bit his bottom lip, eyes narrowing, "She never really believes she's as smart as she is." His head quirked to the side, "Why would they all be like that?"

Aegon rolled his shoulders back and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew. Objectively, he knew. Aegon had never seen Otto strike his brother, and certainly not his sister. Helaena was his favorite.

He swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. But his grandfather had high expectations for all of them. They were necessary, the difference between life and death. Aegon was the one who could never reach them.

"I don't know," Baela sat back on her heels as he looked back into the room. She was frowning deeply.

"What should I say then?" Jace puckered his lips, chin resting on his knees. Hands pushed up the sides of his face and into his hair, "If I mess up again, Egg might never give me another chance."

Baela snickered, "Maybe you should try thinking with your head instead of your cock?" Jace glared at her. "You're better at words than me, Jace. You always say I'm too blunt."

"Yeah, well, maybe blunt is what I need!" Jace flung his arms out. Plump lips red from his chewing, hair askew from his fingers. Aegon swallowed as he focused on his nephew, on the blush rising over his cheeks. "I'm going crazy, Baela! I can't keep not touching him like this!"

A knock sounded at the door. They both looked towards it as Jace yelled for them to enter. Rhaena slipped inside, checking over her shoulder before she closed the door behind her.

"Do either of you know why father was in such a mood when he got home? Joff wants to ask him a bunch of questions about the training bouts," Rhaena surveyed them. Her eyes narrowed on Jace's red face. "What are you two talking about?"

"Jace's inept courting technique," Baela clicked her tongue. Jace scowled as Rhaena giggled. Hands rising to her lips.

His nephew rolled his eyes, "Daemon's probably just grumpy he lost that match with Egg. He's been acting weird since then."

The sisters exchanged a look, lips pursing. Rhaena cleared her throat, "It's nearly time for dinner regardless." Baela and Jace rose to their feet.

"Don't antagonize my father till after Joff asks all his questions," Baela shoved at Jace's arm and he huffed.

"I wasn't going to!" Jace raised his chin and Rhaena snorted. The sisters linked their arms as they left the room. His nephew followed them, grumbling, "He starts it anyway!"

Aegon leaned back against the wall behind him. The passage was very narrow. His breaths came a bit quicker as he shut his eyes.

He hadn't meant to spy on Jace. Only Daemon, really, to see if he said anything useful. Rhaenyra was one thing, but... he couldn't find it in him to regret the detour.

Not when Jace had spoken so softly about his eyes, whined about his lips.

A smile twitched at Aegon's lips as he thought of it all again. He tilted his head back. Jace liked him. Loved him.

Maybe that morning, before Mellos had stitched his thigh, maybe it hadn't been a dream. Maybe Jace had really responded like that to him. Maybe his nephew's drunken seduction attempt hadn't all been because of Daemon.

If it were real, then... then technically Aegon had started it. Aegon had touched him first. His heart hammered in his chest.

Jace had known about Aegon's attraction to him and responded by... by teasing him more, visiting him alone. Seducing him.

What the fuck did he do now though?

"Ser Harrold," Aegon whispered to himself, pushing a hand through his hair. He'd only bothered with Daemon first because the kingsguard was still on duty with the king.

An excellent decision, in hindsight. Aegon ducked his head, muffling a giggle in his shoulder. He had to find a route into White Sword Tower.

Taking a deep breath, Aegon steadied himself as best he could. He started weaving his way through the secret passages. His smile lingered. A warmth on his cheeks.

The mark on his forearm had started pulsing with heat to match. Aegon ducked beneath a cobweb.

His nephew loved him. Aegon breathed in, lungs filling with ease. He paid no mind to the stale and dusty air.

Jace loved him. Aegon had screamed at him, raged. His nephew had seen him at his worst, and Jace still cared. Still wanted him.

Maybe... maybe everything would work out then. Would be okay. Eventually. Maybe Jace would... would protect them.

Maybe Aegon wouldn't have to wear that stupid crown.

Chapter Text

The Kingsguard were obnoxiously boring. Aegon almost wished he hadn't found the ladder that led to the passageways connecting their tower to the network of secret corridors.

Those that weren't on duty were asleep. When they'd finally woken, they'd gotten ready and gone to relieve the other knights. That was it. No fun conversations, no japes or jokes. Not a single laugh!

Aegon was shoving Ser Arryk into a whore the next time he went to Mysaria's. Obviously the kingsguard needed more excitement in their lives! He would relieve their suffering, if only to save himself from further bordeom. His eyelids were actually drooping!

"Criston, have you seen Aegon today?"

Eyes fluttering, Aegon sat up straight inside the wall. He crawled over to the grate.

Ah, summoned like the Stranger... Ser Arryk had arrived. As had Cole. They were both striping off their armor in the undercroft. It was not particularly well lit, but Aegon could make out their faces just fine in the torch light as he looked down from the first floor.

Not that he appreciated this, given the dour expression Ser Arryk wore.

"Not since my training with the younger princes," Cole furrowed his brow, "He left early. I thought you were with him?"

"I was, Prince Daemon informed me he was hurt and I went with him to check for myself," Ser Arryk rolled his shoulders back after stripping down to his doublet and pants. "He has a bruise, like a hand print, on his arm."

Cole whirled around to face the other knight, forehead creased and face twisting into a scowl, "What?!"

Cringing, Aegon rubbed absently at his arm. It barely hurt really. They were all being far too dramatic. Daemon was bad enough, but now he'd have Cole to contend with as well.

"Did he say where-"

"He refused to speak of it," Ser Arryk shook his head, "He, uh... He kicked us out of his room and then fled on Sunfyre."

A growl slipped from his mother's swornshield. Cole's eyes narrowed, "I hate that fucking window." Aegon pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter.

He loved that window. It was his favorite window, and his opinion was only rising as Cole muttered about it.

"I've noticed a few... concerning bruises, over the years," Cole admitted, perching on the table in the middle of the room. His back to Aegon's viewpoint.

Ser Arryk's mouth falling open was enough information though, to guess at Cole's expression. The man rubbed at his neck, sighing heavily.

"Aegon's always brushed them off, or made light of them. Jokes about his nightly excursions," Cole tilted his head back. His eyes focused on the ceiling. His forehead was wrinkled still.

"Yes, Prince Daemon said he did the same with him. Alluded to it being from his trips to the brothel," Ser Arryk shook his head, "I've been to that brothel with him many times. Daemon's right, Lady Mysaria would never allow one of her whores to leave such a mark."

Cole's head fell forward, ducking close to his chest. Aegon frowned at the tension in his shoulders. "You saw it yourself?" Cole asked and Ser Arryk nodded. "The entire bruise?" Another nod. A deepening frown. "You should speak with Ser Harrold when he returns."

"Speak with Ser Harrold about what?" Ser Erryk asked as he descended the stairs into the would be armory.

"A bruise on Prince Aegon's arm," Ser Arryk greeted his brother with a sharp nod. The other twin paused at the base of the stairs as Ser Arryk added, "Prince Daemon discovered it this afternoon and made me aware."

Ser Erryk arched a brow, "Is that why he was in such a mood when he returned to Princess Rhaenyra's apartments earlier? Even Prince Jacaerys avoided arguing with him at dinner."

The three of them chuckled and Aegon let out a slow breath as Cole's shoulders shook. He hadn't meant to cause such worry. Even if, really, it was Daemon's fault. His uncle was overreacting.

"Seven help me, I'm agreeing with Prince Daemon," Cole doubled over with a groan. The other two knights grinned at one another over his back.

"Would it not be prudent to take this matter to the king?" Ser Erryk asked as he started stripping his armor. His brother crossed the room to help him.

Cole turned to face them and Aegon was treated to the full storm of his face. The furrowed brows and dark eyes, "Prince Aegon refuses to acknowledge them."

"Escaped on his dragon to avoid discussing it," Ser Arryk whispered to his brother and the quick flash of a smirk told Aegon the other knight knew exactly how Aegon had managed that escape.

Vaguely, he wondered how often Cole had complained about Aegon's antics in the window. It had served many purposes over the years. He bit his bottom lip as Cole huffed, shoulders hunching.

Ser Arryk stepped back, taking his brother's chest plate with him as he cleared his throat, "He brought up the incident on Driftmark as well."

The other two knights stiffened. Ser Erryk with a hand on his vambrace. Eyes squeezing shut, Cole's hands fisted in his lap. He inhaled sharply.

"He lashes out," Cole spoke softly, barely a whisper, "When he's afraid, or overwhelmed. His instinct is to lash out, to push everyone away. It's defensive, not personal."

"I am aware," Ser Arryk placed his brother's armor on its stand. Cole ran a hand over his neck, lips pursed.

"I'm reminding me, not you," Cole breathed out, head falling back once more. His face scrunched up. "But the fact remains... he prefers to sleep outside the Red Keep. He doesn't feel safe here. Not even with us."

Aegon startled back at those words, at a secret he'd never fully disclosed, not even to Aemond. He hissed as his left shoulder hit the wall behind him. His arms gave out and he crumbled to the floor. All three knights rose to attention.

Cursing in his head, Aegon bit at the back of his hand. Tears blurred his vision as his shoulder throbbed. The sensitive skin screaming as tendrils of pain shot through his muscles.

Panic rushed through his veins. The cold that lingered in his limbs forced aside as Cole stepped closer to the wall with the grate, eyes squinting right at Aegon's hiding spot.

He had no idea where the exit was on the first floor. Aegon had only searched for a door into the Lord Commander's room on the top floor. Cole certainly had suspicions about the way Aegon disappeared from certain places.

"Eyes and ears everywhere..." Cole mumbled to himself, turning back to the other knights. He nodded to the stairs. Ser Erryk finished putting away his armor and then they climbed back up to the Round Room.

His head rose as he listened to their footsteps. He was, technically, lying on his belly with a single wall of bricks between him and the first floor. He held his breath as they walked past.

A servant brought their dinner and Aegon used the noise as cover to rise to his feet. Hands running over the stone, Aegon found a pinhole to watch through.

"If he does not trust us to protect him, we must earn it," Ser Erryk said once they were alone again. Once the three knights had bowed their heads over their food. Cole snorted.

"Aegon trusts no one. Not even his mother, not fully," Cole leaned back in his seat, "And if I had any idea how to fix that, I would have done it already."

His throat bobbed as he listened to the three of them argue. About him. Rehashing Driftmark, comparing his behavior from before the Stepstones and after. Aegon hadn't considered how much they knew, how much they... noticed.

They'd decided long ago that Driftmark had changed him apparently. Bile rose in Aegon's throat. It had. He had to agree. But it hadn't just been watching a maester dig his brother's useless eye from its socket.

Otto had arrived at court only a week before Laena Velaryon's funeral. In that short time, the Hand had convinced his mother to marry him to Helaena. He'd forbidden Aegon from writing to Dragonstone.

The solace he'd searched for in wine had earned him only bruises. Bruises and ire. He'd pleased no one on Driftmark. Not Otto, not the queen, certainly not the king.

Biting at his lip, Aegon blinked tears away. Aemond's muffled crying that night haunted him as much as the look in Jace's eyes when he'd called his nephews bastards. Sometimes more even.

"He naps in Aemond's room occassionally," Ser Arryk pointed out, finger rising into the air. Cole's jaw clicked. "I am merely pointing out, it may not be the Red Keep in its entirety."

"So... whoever it is, they can get to him in his room, but not the queen's chambers?" Ser Erryk raised his chin, eyebrows drawing closer.

He'd been the quietest of the three. The only one who did not regularly stand guard for the queen. Rhaenyra had never taken a swornshield on, to Aegon's knowledge anyway, but Ser Erryk was in charge of the contingent of guards who protected the Princess of Dragonstone.

"That would be half the court," Ser Arryk sighed, "There is no regular guard on Aegon's door. The knight who patrols that corridor is responsible for the entire tower. A tower that houses most of the queen's household, I'll remind you." He was frowning, as was Cole.

"Except for Aegon's floor. He's alone up there, when he actually bothers to stay in his room," Cole scrubbed his hands over his face.

A throat cleared and Aegon jumped. The three knights around the kingsguard's shield-shaped table all turned their heads to the door as Ser Harrold stood in the threshold.

"Rather dour expressions, sers. I am almost afraid to ask." Ser Harrold arched a brow.

Cole's head fell back into his hands, "Aegon." A shudder ran up his spine at the way Cole's voice cracked when he said his name. "Arryk and Prince Daemon saw one of his bruises. Properly."

"Did they?" Ser Harrold straightened and his gaze snapped to Ser Arryk. The knight nodded sharply. "How did-"

"Daemon cut his shirt during their bout in the training yard," Ser Arryk explained quickly, "I followed the older prince when he went to confront his nephew about the injury. It's a hand print. Left bicep."

Ser Harrold dropped heavily into his seat at the head of the table. His armor banging against the dark wood of his chair as he slumped back.

"If the king's brother has seen it, and I have two knights willing to say the same... perhaps I can convince the king to expand the queen's personal guard. Or establish one for the prince himself, as he did for the Princess Rhaenyra. Ser Arryk could coordinate."

None of the knights looked particularly hopeful. Even Ser Harrold was frowning. Cole's hands slapped against the table, a growl rising in his throat.

"You've taken this to the king three times!" Cole stood up, knuckles scrapping against the polished weirwood of the table. "Until Aegon tells us who it is, we have nothing the king will listen to," Cole's head hung forward, shoulders hunched and shaking.

"Daemon could take it to the king himself," Ser Erryk suggested, straightening in his seat, "The princess-"

"And when Aegon denies it?" Cole inhaled, head rising as he met Ser Erryk's. Aegon blinked slowly, staring through his pinhole as Cole wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

Ser Harrold rose, hand squeezing at Cole's shoulder, "We have a king who requires evidence, reasons, before action."

"We have a king who's son feels safer in a brothel than his own bed," Cole turned his head to look at Ser Harrold, eyes wide. "Aegon doesn't trust the king anymore than he does us. And there's nothing we can fucking do about it."

The room went entirely silent then. None of the knights said a word as Cole moved for the stairs. His footsteps stomping. A door slammed a moment later. Aegon flinched.

"He's not wrong," Ser Arryk mumbled, sitting back in his chair. His brother placed a hand on his back.

"We can only protect them if and when they let us," Ser Harrold rose from his seat with a sigh. He gave a clipped nod before heading for the stairs to the undercroft, "Do your best with what Prince Aegon allows, it is all you can do, ser. For now."

A part of him wanted to stumble out of the wall. He'd imagined it a hundred times over the years, running to Cole, confessing everything, crying into his shoulder.

But who would the king listen to? Otto was his friend, a man he'd made Hand twice now. And if he told them where the bruises came from, Aegon would have to explain why.

If the king knew the lords wanted him as king instead of Rhaenyra... His sister wouldn't be the one ordering his execution. He could not risk his brothers' lives. Not for a few bruises.

His arm barely hurt. A small ache only. Nothing truly.

The room was quiet now. Aegon could hear the clatter of Ser Harrold removing his armor below them. He moved slowly, quietly, towards the ladder carved directly into the stone wall on the backside of the tower.

As he climbed, Aegon listened to the whistle of the wind on the Blackwater behind him. Strong gusts battered the walls of the Red Keep that faced the sea. The fourth floor of White Sword Tower rose above the outer wall.

Some of the chill slipped through the stone. Or maybe that was just Aegon.

He snuck into the Lord Commander's chambers and sat at his desk. A sinking feeling in his chest. His gut twisting. In his head, his thoughts were as violent as the wind, smashing against each other like storms meeting on the sea.

"Prince Aegon?" Ser Harrold went entirely still when he entered. His hand squeezed around the doorhandle he still held. Aegon looked up from the lone candle he'd lit.

"I have some questions for you, Ser Harrold," Aegon spoke simply and he plastered on a smirk, head falling back against the man's chair, "You watched my mother and Rhaenyra grow up together, yes?"

The door was closed, an eyebrow arched, "I did." Aegon hummed. He looked up at the ceiling as the kingsguard cleared his throat, "Is that what you wish to speak to me about?"

"Is there something else I ought to ask about?" Aegon let his head lull to the side. He met Ser Harrold's narrowed eyes. The man's gaze lowered, focusing on his left bicep. "I already know about that."

"That you've gone to the trouble of meeting me in this manner, I assume you wish our conversation to be private. Secret?" Ser Harrold approached the desk. He took a seat in a chair across from him. His hands folded over his lap.

Aegon chuckled, head ducking low, "An exchange? Is that what you want?" Ser Harrold frowned. "You'd deny a boy stories of his mother, of her happiness? Just to gain an advantage?"

Fingers twitching, Ser Harrold pursed his lips. Aegon pulled his legs up. He curled into a ball, arms around his legs, head pillowed on his knees. Ser Harrold heaved a sigh as Aegon aimed wide eyes and long lashes at him, lips puckering.

"I will answer what I can," Ser Harrold agreed, leaning forward, "But I will require a promise from you." Aegon lifted his head. "You are not to use what I tell you against either of them."

"I had no plans to," Aegon straightened, eyes fluttering. He rolled his shoulders back and dropped his feet back to the floor. "I promise."

"Then I can tell you that they loved one another dearly," Ser Harrold exhaled slowly, "I would not dream of speculating as to the nature of that love, but they were hardly ever apart."

His mouth dropped open. Aegon had not expected it to be so easy. He'd thought to pepper the man with questions, but Ser Harrold needed no prompting.

"When the princess went flying, Lady Alicent waited at the Dragon Pit, watching the sky or reading in the cart. Your mother was perhaps the only person the princess trusted to care for her mother, Queen Aemma, while she attended the king as his cupbearer."

Nodding slowly, Aegon swallowed thickly. He rubbed at his neck as the kingsguard talked about his mother doting upon her predecessor as the woman struggled through pregnancies, as he spoke of her reading to Rhaenyra in the godswood.

"When Lady Alicent lost her mother to a winter fever, the princess had her brought to her chambers. Very few saw the Lady Alicent as she grieved. She was... despondent. The princess cared for her diligently. Lady Alicent slept in her rooms for a full month, leaving only to visit the sept, before the Hand raised concerns."

Otto. It was always Otto. There would've been rumors. Between women, it was less concerning. A passing fancy of girlhood, but Rhaenyra was Targaryen. People still spoke of Queen Rhaena's affection for her friends.

A scandal. Perhaps not so worrisome as if Aegon's preferences were discovered, but a scandal all the same.

"When Queen Aemma died, Lady Alicent was of great comfort to the royal family." Ser Harrold raised his chin and Aegon's breath caught. "She and the princess went to the sept together often."

Aegon had never heard of Rhaenyra going to the sept. It was one of those things people whispered about, her lack of devotion to the Faith. Even her marriages, a septon had wed her to Laenor in the Grand Hall, but she'd married Daemon in a Valyrian ceremony on Dragonstone.

"What... what caused them to grow distant?" Aegon struggled to ask, words cracking on his lips. Fear was sneaking up his spine, dread clenching at his heart. "When did they stop loving each other?"

"Lady Alicent attended the king in his rooms, after Queen Aemma's death. When he announced his intention to marry her... the princess was not happy." Ser Harrold raised a hand to his face, hiding a scowl.

His vision swam as tears began to fall, Aegon inhaled sharply, "Was it... was it my fault?"

The kingsguard rose to his feet, brow furrowed, "If anyone is responsible, it is that bastard Hightower, for sending your mother to the king in the first place."

"But... but was she-" Aegon gasped, wiping at his face. The king called for her often, spent his time with her only when... "Did he marry her because of me?"

"To my knowledge," Ser Harrold rounded the desk and knelt in front of him, "Your mother was a maiden on her wedding night." A hand cupped his face, "And the only time I saw the princess share a smile with the young queen, was when they stood around your cradle."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Aegon laughed. A wet and gasping chuckle as he bowed his head. Ser Harrold shifted closer and Aegon let himself be pulled down. He hid his tears in the kingsguard's shoulder.

"Why... why did it change?" Aegon sniffled, fingers gripping at a white doublet, "They... they hated each other."

"Sometimes, love gets twisted, your grace. Anger takes the best of all of us, at times," Ser Harrold rubbed at his back. Aegon trembled.

When he left Ser Harrold's room, he did it via the door. His eyes still ringed vaguely red. The Round Room was empty when he walked through it and he'd waved off Ser Harrold's offer to escort him to his room.

He wasn't sure exactly, what to do with himself. Aegon stood for several minutes in the corridor outside White Sword Tower simply swaying on his feet. A hollow pit forming in his chest.

His mother loved Rhaenyra. Whether she had a mark or not, Aegon was certain of it now. She had loved the princess as a girl and she loved her still. It was why she clung so desperately to the idea that Rhaenyra would relinquish her claim, once the lords of Westeros made their desire for Aegon to be king known.

A delusion, really. One his mother surely recognized as such, even as she said the words. Otto would never allow Rhaenyra to live. Nor Daemon. They would forever be a threat. Their children too.

If he was crowned, Aegon would be signing the death warrants for his sister's entire family. He and his mother, they'd be doomed to misery.

But Jace loved him. Aegon's heart ached just to think of him. His mark pulsed. The digging in his chest paused. He exhaled slowly, a smile spreading over across his face. Jace loved him.

Otto thought the only way to save them all was if Aegon became king. Maybe... maybe there was another way.

Maybe the king was right.

A memory bubbled up. The king's words, the day his mark appeared. Dragonriders have been known to carry children.

If he married Jace, if he gave him heirs.... Rhaenyra wouldn't view them as a threat. Not if their lines were the same. If Aegon's claim was given to Jace.

Aegon slipped back into the walls at the nearest entrance he knew and headed for Rhaenyra's apartment.

Chapter Text

Jace was asleep when Aegon slipped into his room. As was everyone else. He'd coughed, loudly, from behind the vents in the receiving room. The guard who'd been stationed in the hall had gone to investigate and Aegon had moved quickly to get to his nephew's room before the knight had returned.

He leaned back against the door, chest heaving as he caught his breath. No footsteps followed him. Jace remained sprawled across his bed, hair curling around his ears as he lay there. Lips parted as he mumbled nonsense against his pillow.

Biting his lip, Aegon watched him. He hadn't thought this far ahead. He hadn't thought any farther than getting to Jace. His nephew loved him, but Aegon only knew that was true because he'd been eavesdropping.

Did... did he tell him that? Or about Otto? Their mothers? Aegon swallowed thickly. He glanced down at his arm, at the knot tied tightly around his wrist.

Should he show him? Would Jace want to know? His nephew had said he didn't like the idea of soulmates.

Only hours earlier, Aegon wouldn't even have considered it. He hadn't wanted his mark to be the reason Jace was with him. That was still true.

Baela had said they should talk. He could start with that, let... let Jace take the lead. Aegon pursed his lips and nodded to himself. Yeah. He could do that. Jace was surely better at such things than him. Aegon made a mess of everything.

"Jace?" Aegon whispered as he approached the bed. He knelt on the edge and reached for his nephew's shoulder.

Dark eyes snapped open. Aegon yelped as he found himself yanked forward. Pinned to the bed, a knife at his throat, Aegon blinked up at his nephew.

"Egg?" Jace breathed out, panting. His eyes fluttered and the knife was pulled away. "What're you doing here?"

"Ah, well, I wanted to talk to you?" Aegon croaked. Jace abandoned his knife on the table beside his bed. He pushed a hand through his hair as he took shaky breaths.

Beautiful. He was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Bed-wraggled, shirt loose around his shoulders. Aegon whined, hips rocking up absently. Jace was hard too.

"What were you dreaming about?" Aegon mumbled, lips twisting up as Jace flushed crimson. "Was it me?" Aegon groaned. The hand on his shoulder squeezed. Warmth pulsed through his body.

"I thought... I thought you didn't want me to touch you," Jace whimpered, mouth falling open as Aegon spread his legs wider. Jace instinctively started to grind forward. His jaw clenched and he went still.

In retaliation, Aegon wrapped his legs around his waist and raised his knees. With a few careful moves he flung his shoes across the room. They landed on the floor with a couple of thumps.

"I don't understand what's happening..." Jace whined, face twisting as Aegon settled beneath him, hips angled up so Jace's cock was pressed against his ass. He'd forgotten how good it felt, how... how warm he was when Jace touched him. It had been days, weeks. Far too long.

"I, uh, I don't know either," Aegon hummed, body trembling as heat poured through his veins. The warmth nearly searing, as it had been before his mark appeared.

Overwhelming, that's what it was. His body was burning from the inside out. Jace on top of him. He hadn't been this warm in years, possibly ever. His breaths came in studdering gasps and he clung to Jace, fingers twisting in to the sleeves of his sleep shirt.

"You're warm," Jace pressed his palm to Aegon's cheek, eyes wide, "But you're never warm." Aegon whimpered and scrambled for the buttons on his doublet. His hands shook, but he worked them open. It didn't help.

"Came to talk," Aegon mumbled, rocking up against the hard cock he wanted so badly, "I swear, but..." Jace choked on a moan. His nephew bowed his head to Aegon's shoulder. Aegon arched beneath him, pressing their bodies together fully. "But I... I need you to touch me."

Jace ripped away from him, stumbling back. He fell off the bed. Aegon was left panting atop the sheets. Staring up at the ceiling, the haze that had settled over his head abated. For a moment. He inhaled sharply and pushed a shaking hand through his hair.

"Jace?" Aegon called out quietly, voice cracking. His nephew rose up from the floor. Chest heaving, Jace approached the bed with wide eyes and shaking hands.

"Did something happen?" Jace asked, eyebrows arching. His gaze swept over Aegon and his throat bobbed.

That did not help with the boiling heat still rising in his body. Aegon's hips rose involuntarily and Jace groaned.

Teeth sunk into plump lips as Jace squeezed his eyes shut. He rubbed at the side of his face. Aegon's hands fisted in the sheets, "I heard you. Earlier." Jace looked at him, brow furrowing. "With Baela. I was in the wall."

"Oh." Cheeks burning, Jace ducked his head, "Which... which part?" Aegon huffed out a breath and dragged himself up. He reached for Jace. For his hand.

"All of it, I think," Aegon admitted. He swiped his thumb over the back of Jace's hand, "That morning... when you said you bumped my leg... It wasn't a dream."

Jace nodded mutely. His head rose just enough to catch Aegon's gaze. And then he was rambling, just like Joffrey so often did, but not nearly as coherent.

"I thought... It was dumb, I shouldn't have... it just felt really good and the way you looked at me," Jace squeezed his hand and stepped towards the bed. "I never thought you'd be interested in me, like that. You, I mean, you could have anyone."

"No I couldn't," Aegon snorted, head shaking. "I never wanted Helaena in this way, but that hardly mattered." Jace stepped right up to the bed then. Aegon's voice cracked and he wiped tears away with his free hand, "She deserved better than me. So do you."

The hand in his was tugged away and Aegon's breath hitched, but then Jace was grabbing his face. Both hands holding him still as their foreheads were pressed together.

"There is no one better, not for me," Jace told him, voice sharp. The words stabbed straight at his heart and Aegon sobbed. Thumbs grazed over his cheeks, flicking away tears as they fell.

Aegon trembled in his firm hold. His nephew refused to let him go and Aegon sunk into his hold. He reached out again, hesitant as his hands settled on Jace's hips. Inhaling deeply, Aegon stared into dark eyes, "I want it to be real."

He wanted more than that. Aegon didn't know how to say it. He wanted to sink into Jace's arms and never leave them. He wanted to be safe there, wanted to hide from it all. From the king and the succession, from the Hand and the court's scheming.

"It is real," Jace said with a smile, "I love you, Egg." One of the hands on his face dropped lower, wrapping around the back of Aegon's neck, "I want you. Just you. Forever."

Throat bobbing, Aegon's mouth fell open with a squeak. Jace whimpered, eyes squeezing shut.

"Fuck, Egg, can I please kiss you?" Jace begged, thumb pressing at his bottom lip. Aegon nodded, already lunging forward to seal their mouths together.

Every time Jace had kissed him, Aegon had loved it, had melted in to it. The heat and the pressure. His nephew demanding. But this was better.

Jace was gentle, slow, licking in to Aegon's mouth with precision. He sucked on Aegon's bottom lip and Aegon tugged him closer. Jace nipped at his lips, chuckling as he held Aegon still, angling his head back.

"More," Aegon whimpered, hands fisting in the thin fabric of Jace's shirt. The heat was buzzing through his body, burning at every nerve, setting his whole body aflame it felt like. His cock throbbed.

"Not yet," Jace mumbled, slipping into Valyrian as he peppered Aegon's face with kisses, "You're so beautiful like this." His tongue slipped into Aegon's mouth immediately when their lips met again.

Aegon wrapped his right arm around Jace's waist. He shifted forward, legs falling on either side of his nephew as he sat on the edge of the bed. Hips rocking forward, Aegon grinned as Jace moaned.

A hard cock was quickly pressed to his thigh and Aegon snuck his leg between Jace's. His nephew held his face still, his neck, and Aegon let him manuever their heads, claiming Aegon's mouth as he wanted. Slow and methodical.

But their bodies were another matter. Aegon had his nephew grinding against his left thigh in moments. The kiss grew more forceful. Teeth scrapped over his lips. Aegon rocked against him. His own cock hard and leaking in his smallclothes as Jace moaned.

"You can take me however you want," Aegon said, gasping as Jace moved to his jawline. "So long as you do it now." His nephew mouthed up to his ear, he sucked a mark at the top of his neck and Aegon spasmed. His voice rose higher, "Jace~"

"Sh!" Jace clapped a hand over his mouth. He glanced towards his door, eyes wide. Aegon panted, eyes half-lidded. His cock twitched.

So close. He was so close, right on the edge. The heat coiling in his gut, burning in his veins, pleasure pulsing beneath his skin. How did Jace do this? How did he get him like this so easily? So quickly?

"My mother will be furious if she finds you in here like this," Jace whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

A bucket of ice water would've been better. Aegon stiffened as the chill ran up his spine. He reared back, gasping as he fell back against the bed. His mark tingled and Aegon wrapped his right hand around his left forearm.

He took shuddering breaths as the cold stabbed at his palm. Jace's hands pressed to his thighs and Aegon inhaled sharply as the warmth burst over his skin.

"You're cold again," Jace huffed and Aegon looked down to find his nephew scowling at his arm. He stepped back, arms crossing, "Did... did someone else touch you? Is that why you were warm before?"

"No." Aegon shooked his head. "No one else has touched me tonight." He looked up at the ceiling. "It's... it's just my mark." Blushing, Aegon bit his lip, "I don't want Rhaenyra to find me in here either."

Even Jace knew, obviously, what she'd do. Aegon defiling her son, corrupting him. He closed his eyes, cringing. The king wouldn't have him excuted, but if she acted quick enough, if Daemon did it in an act of passion, of defense...

The king always forgave Daemon. He would never punish Rhaenyra. Aegon would be dead and his brothers would be vulnerable. His mother.

"It's dumb," Jace flung his arms wide and he tossed his head back, "I don't know why she even cares who I fuck. It's not like I can put a bastard in you."

Aegon's eyes snapped open. His face burned and his body followed its example. Beneath his palm, the mark on his arm pulsed, heat blooming once again.

"Egg?" Jace squinted at him, arms falling to his side. He tilted his head. Aegon cleared his throat. Propping himself up on his elbows, Aegon tried, and failed, to meet Jace's eyes.

"You... you might be able to actually," Aegon breathed out. His throat bobbed and he glanced quickly at Jace's face, "The king told me dragonriders could, sometimes, carry children."

Lips parting, Jace's brows rose higher, "Male dragonriders?" Aegon nodded slowly, gaze dropping from his face.

"He... he mentioned it just the once," Aegon laughed nervously, voice shaking, "He didn't tell me how. I don't think he knew. He mentioned Dragonstone's library, but I've never gone-"

Jace was on top of him again, mouth demanding. Hot and bruising as teeth and tongue descended on him. Claimed him. Aegon gasped, providing him entry. He moaned as hands started tugging at the ties of his shirt.

"Jace~" Aegon keened, wrapping his arms around his nephew's neck. That earned him a soft growl. A hand gripped his thigh and tugged his leg up. He didn't need another hint.

"You could be my queen," Jace whined against his cheek, "My consort." Aegon locked his ankles together and held Jace against him, rocking up. Jace groaned, "I don't care what title you use, but you'll be mine. By my side."

Their mouths met again, pressing together in desperate attempts to get closer as Jace's palms grazed over his sides. Aegon's nails dug into his scalp. He moaned as Jace rubbed his cock against Aegon's ass.

Too many layers. They were wearing too much clothes.

"Mine," Jace breathed out, panting heavily. "You'll be mine. No one else's."

Aegon nodded mutely. He mouthed at Jace's neck. His heart racing, pounding against his chest. He whined, "Please~"

The laces on his breeches were yanked open and a hand slipped beneath him, beneath his waistband and his smallclothes. A finger probed at his hole.

That was all it took, all Jace had to do.

Body clenching, Aegon tossed his head back. His vision went white. Jace muffled his scream of pleasure with his mouth. He sucked at Jace's bottom lip as his climax rocked through his body.

With a grunt, Jace held him tight, one hand squeezing at his ass as the cock nestled between his cheeks twitched. Aegon smiled at the sensation, at Jace taking pleasure in his body.

"Did you mean it?" Aegon asked as his limbs fell back to the bed. Jace hovered above him, a wet spot growing in the fabric of his breeches.

Aegon smirked as his eyes grazed over his nephew's body. Trembling still, from his release. Flesh still pink. The pleasure still burning in his eyes.

Again. He wanted to do that again. Over and over. And more.

"Yes," Jace laughed, smile twisting at his lips, "I'm going to marry you Aegon." He grabbed his arm. His left one. Hand wrapping around the spot where Aegon's mark lay.

Their mouths came together again as stars exploded in Aegon's vision. He spasmed, writhing against Jace as his arm was lifted above his head.

"I don't care what your mark says, or mine," Jace snarled, nipping at Aegon's lips. Hips arching up, Aegon moaned as his cock grew hard again. He whimpered as Jace squeezed at his arm.

Another orgasm slammed into his body, ripping through him quickly as Jace whispered a promise against his lips.

"You're going to be mine, Aegon Targaryen."

"Already... already yours," Aegon slurred, head lulling to the side as Jace kissed down his throat. His whole body was throbbing now, thrumming with want. With heat.

Footsteps sounded in the hall. Not quiet. Not hiding. Definitely drawing closer. Jace sprang into action, shoving Aegon onto the floor. Pressing his hand to his lips, Aegon rolled under the bed as Jace scrambled beneath his blankets.

The door snapped open. Daemon's drawl was thick with sleep, "Jacaerys?"

"What?" Jace snapped, turning in his bed with a huff, "I'm trying to sleep here."

A low grumble from Daemon was the only response. Aegon curled tightly into a ball, panic flooding his brain.

The door hadn't closed yet. From under the bed, Aegon could see his uncle's bare feet standing in the threshold. The hem of his breeches.

Daemon didn't have Dark Sister did he? Certainly not. He was just checking on Jace, just being diligent. He had no reason to suspect, to search for him.

"Who do those belong to?" Daemon asked and the blood in Aegon's veins went cold. His heart beat wildly. He glanced towards his shoes as Jace snorted.

"Mine, obviously. Did you want me to clean my room now? Is that it? In the middle of the night?" Jace's voice was dripping with sarcasm. Daemon's teeth made an audible snap as they came together.

A sharp inhale and Daemon turned around, "Go to sleep." He paused for a moment, and then he snapped back, "And keep it down. No one wants to know how much you like your hand."

The door closed and a pillow hit the wood with a soft thud a mere second later. Jace appeared in front of him soon after, kneeling on the floor and offering Aegon a hand as he ducked his head close to the floor.

"Sorry," Jace whispered as he helped Aegon out from beneath the bed. With a sigh, Aegon placed his head on Jace's shoulder.

"I ought to go," Aegon mumbled, curling up against Jace's side as they sat on the floor, half in his lap. A hand rubbed at his back. He breathed out.

Jace pressed a kiss to his cheek, "You could sleep here." A finger tucked his hair behind his ear, "You don't like to sleep in your room." Aegon glanced up at him, eyes wide. His nephew smiled at him, "You said it was lonely remember? You wouldn't be lonely in here."

Nuzzling at his throat, Aegon agreed with a soft "Okay." His doublet was dragged down his arms and tossed aside. Aegon curled his left arm against his chest and let Jace tuck him beneath the sheets.

A click from the door and Jace slipped in beside him. Another kiss was pressed to his cheek, "We won't be bothered now." An arm snaked around his waist and Aegon smiled as Jace tugged him close.

Sleep would come easy, Aegon was sure, cocooned in his nephew's arms, in his warmth. A warmth that lingered, that settled in his bones and dragged him into its depths. Aegon sunk into it, into Jace.

This would work. The king was right. Otto was wrong. Jace was going to make him his queen. Aegon giggled quietly to himself, pressing his lips to Jace's throat.

"Can I wear my mother's crown?" Aegon whispered. He bit his lip, "When you make me your queen? Can I wear her crown?"

He wasn't surprised when Jace kissed him again, tongue swiping over the ridges at the top of his mouth. Shuddering, Aegon wrapped himself around Jace, clinging to him.

"We can't... can't go too far," Jace drew back suddenly, swallowing thickly as Aegon perched in his lap. A hand cupped his cheek and the other slipped beneath his shirt. "Not till we know how it works."

"If you put a babe in me, the king will let us marry," Aegon assured him, leaning forward to kiss him. Jace frowned. His forehead creased.

The kiss was chaste. Jace held him there, close. He switched to Valyrian, "I'll not risk a bastard, Egg." Aegon whined. Jace smirked, "My mother will go to Dragonstone after the baby is born. I can go with her. We won't have to wait long."

Aegon puckered his lips and rolled his hips. "I'm not known for my patience," he drawled in Valyrian, matching Jace. His nephew's eyes fluttered. The cock beneath him throbbed.

"You'll be the death of me," Jace reached between them with a groan. Choking on his next breath, Aegon buried his face in Jace's shoulder.

A warm hand wrapped around his cock. Jace stroked him slowly, whispering all sorts of filthy fantasies that had Aegon whining and writhing. His fingers twitched at the knot holding Jace's bottoms closed.

"How's that?" Jace asked, voice trembling as he took both of their cocks in hand. Aegon kissed him. Their cocks slid together as their tongues did.

He collapsed against Jace's chest. The evidence of their orgasms sticky between them. Aegon's eyelids grew heavy as their bodies cooled. Only slightly though. Targaryens always ran hot. And, for once, Aegon was not the exception.

Chapter Text

Flames licked at his heels as he ran through the Red Keep. Aegon rushed through corridors and hallways, each narrower than the last, with fire the same shade of green as Vermax's scales climbing up the walls.

The king's voice echoed around him and the walls shook, crumbling to dust. Aegon fell forward, hands pressed to his ears.

“Where did you hear such calumnies?”

Trembling, Aegon curled inward. The flames tickling at his skin. His flesh burning. He hissed as the pain shot through his body, exploding across his back.

"Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

A blade pressed to his throat. Eyes wide, Aegon looked up, his head tilting back as the tip rose higher.

Daemon was looming over him, lips curled back as he sneered, "No tricks for me this time, nephew?"

His laughter was cold, chilling. Aegon shrieked as the flames rose higher. His uncle shifted, his face twisting.

It was Viserys who stood before him now. Blackfyre, not Dark Sister, pressed to the underside of his chin. The king narrowed his eyes as Aegon begged.

"Fire cannot kill a dragon," Viserys raised the sword and Aegon sobbed. The flames consummed him, blocking out his vision. All he saw was green.

Wildfire. Twisting and hissing as it curled around his body. The acrid scent of burning flesh hit his nose. A body rotting.

When he looked down, he saw it was him. His skin melting from his bones as the flames licked higher. First his hands. And then his arms.

His mark pulsed. A stabbing pain as the flames wrapped around the seahorse and the dragon. Vermax disappearing as his skin blistered and bubbled.

"Who's the bastard now?" Jace's voice was dripping with disdain, with disgust. Aegon's head whipped around. He tried to call for him, to beg. But the words never came.

Smoke filled his lungs. His chest tight. Aegon coughed, crumpling to the floor. He closed his eyes. His body spasmed, the flames settled over top him.

He was going to die. He was going to burn. Aegon sobbed, crying out. His voice shook, cracking as he called for Sunfyre.

"Egg?" A voice cut through the crackling of the flames, through his own pained noises. His eyes opened.

It was Rhaenyra this time, wearing her father's crown. She looked down at him, head tilted, lips pursed. Aegon reached up. A burned hand, shaking even as the flesh began to crumble like dust scattering in the wind.

"He's too weak," his mother whispered, though he couldn't see her. Only Rhaenyra. Always, it was Rhaenyra. "Too weak to be a threat."

"Egg?" The voice whispered against his ear. Aegon spasmed, his muscles twitching. Rhaenyra looked away.

"Kill them all." Rhaenyra commanded, disappearing into the flames.

Aemond's cry echoed in his head, screaming for him. And another. Younger.

Daeron.

Aegon thrashed. He inhaled sharply, gagging on his own blood.

It was his own sword that came down on him. The dark stone in the handle shining as it reflected green flames.

And then it all went black.

He came awake with a sob. Aegon squirmed in the arms holding him, his head tossed back as he blinked away tears.

The arms did not release him. Aegon shoved at their chest. A hand cupped his face, "Egg, you're awake. It's me. You're safe. You're okay."

Chest heaving, Aegon's gaze focused on the person holding him. On dark eyes, trembling with worry, and plump lips parted as he whispered reassurances, platitudes.

"Jace?" Aegon croaked. He exhaled slowly, sniffling. His hands flew up, grabbing for his face, fingers digging into his flesh. "You're here? You're real?"

"I'm here. We're in my room," Jace reminded him. A hand brushed over his hair. Aegon glanced around.

The night before flooded back. His chest ached as he inhaled deeply. His lungs burned and Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. He pressed his face to Jace's throat. Hands falling to his nephew's shoulders as he sobbed again.

"I'm sorry," Aegon whispered and Jace wrapped his arms tighter around him. "I was happy, I swear, I don't know why I-" A hand settled on his back.

"Strong emotions, good or bad, can trigger reactions," Jace told him and Aegon's head tilted back. He blinked up at him.

Fingers combed through his hair, pushing the silver strands away from his face. Jace pressed a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek.

"I asked Daemon, after last time," Jace admitted. His lips pursed, "He said my grandmother taught him how to cope with it, when he lived on Driftmark after my parents' wedding."

"What do I do?" Aegon asked, hands fisting in Jace's shirt. "How do I make it stop?" He rose up, clawing at his nephew's chest, crying softly. His words desperate even to his own ears.

Jace's eyes widened, and his voice shook, "I- He said you had to find a focus. And, uh, you need to feel safe."

"Safe?" The word cracked on Aegon's lips. He laughed, wet and hollow. His head bowed back to Jace's chest. His shoulders shook.

He hadn't felt truly safe in years. He couldn't even remember. Before Driftmark certainly, before Rhaenyra and Laenor had returned to Dragonstone.

A memory flashed in his mind as he thought of Dragonstone. The last time he'd been there. He'd been small, tugging on Laenor's arm. The knight was holding a baby, smiling down at him. At Jace. Aegon had been so excited.

"Do you want to meet our next king, Egg?"

He'd claimed Sunfyre just as Jace was born. Laenor had taken him into the Dragonmont to pick an egg for Jace's cradle while his mother was with Rhaenyra and her midwives.

Syrax had roared each time the Princess of Dragonstone screamed. Her clutch defended by Seasmoke as the dragon felt her rider's pain.

The whispers had started immediately when they returned. His nephew's hair was the wrong color and his dragon was as golden as the crown on the king's head.

Letters had come from Oldtown. His mother had grown frantic. Paranoid even, as her next pregnancy took root soon after. Laenor had less time for him. Rhaenyra too. His mother.

Aemond. Everything changed when his brother was born. His mother had gone into labor early. He was alone, hiding in her rooms as the maids threw her bloody sheets into a fire.

His brother had been small. His lungs had not been. He'd screamed for days as their mother lay in her birthing bed, dying. Her voice weak as she begged him to keep Aemond safe, to save his little brother.

"I don't know how to do that," Aegon mumbled into Jace's shirt. He wasn't sure if he was talking to his nephew or to the memory of his mother.

Feverish. Delusional. And so very afraid. He had never seen his mother like that before. Every pregnancy since had been much the same. Worse even. That she'd brought Daeron to term at all was a gift from the Seven. The maesters had all agreed the queen shouldn't carry again.

The king waved them off, with a short laugh and a dismissive nod. That was the moment. Aegon's throat bobbed as he blinked away tears. Jace peppered his face with kisses. The king had all but written his mother's life off as unimportant and Aegon had been afraid every day since.

"Distract me," Aegon inhaled slowly, focusing on Jace, on the tie holding the top of his shirt closed. He fiddled with it, twisting the slim piece of cloth between his fingers.

It wasn't so bad, most days. Just a little ball of nerves that sat low in his stomach. A faint reminder.

But now his heart was hammering in his chest. The panic pumping through his veins loud in his ears. All his memories jumbled together and bubbling up like the blisters on his skin in his nightmare.

"Okay," Jace breathed out and his finger traced a line down his face, "What should I do?" Aegon curled against him, still half in his lap from the night before.

"Just... just talk to me," Aegon inhaled with a shudder, body trembling, "I like when you talk to me."

Jace shifted up, leaning against the headboard. He gathered Aegon against him and started to talk. Aegon let himself be maneuvered, tucked into Jace's side as his nephew spoke about his lessons, his siblings. Anything and everything that flicked across his mind. Rambling, just like Joffrey did.

Aegon smiled to himself at the thought. They were so alike, the two of them, when Jace wasn't being so serious. When he wasn't keeping himself so tightly controlled. The perfect prince, the heir.

His prince. His soulmate. Here, cuddling in a bed, hidden in the shadows of the morning before the sun was up, Jace was his. Aegon took another breath. His nephew whined about Baela asking to teach Joffrey Valyrian. Aegon laughed, "You can teach him other things.

A kiss was pressed to his forehead, "It's not the same. He asked me about Daeron recently, though. He wants me to help him write to your brother, like I do with grandfather."

"He wants to write to Daeron?" Aegon furrowed his brow. "Why would he want to do that?" Jace shrugged and rubbed small circles over Aegon's back.

"He said it wasn't fair he was the only one who didn't know him," Jace continued, clicking his tongue, "And apparently, he needs to be Daeron's favorite nephew too, since he is 'clearly' yours and Aemond's favorite."

A smile twitched at his lips, "Clearly." He nuzzled closer, eyes falling shut, "I bet he'd lock Luke in his room if he found out I'm taking him into the city too."

The hand on his back paused, "You are?" Jace huffed as Aegon nodded. "Why would you do that? When?"

"Today. He wants me to help him find a gift for Aemond's nameday," Aegon hummed. Jace whined, low in the back of his throat, nearly a growl. "Perhaps it won't be Joffrey locking him in his room again..."

"It was one time!" Jace groaned, head falling back against the headboard. Aegon giggled softly. The hand on his back resumed.

Jace traced designs over his shirt, the fabric scrunching up. It was still loose, untied. Nearly falling off one shoulder even. Dried semen clung to his stomach and his thighs. He'd need a bath, before he met Aemond for their morning flight.

"I sent Daeron a letter, actually, after Joff asked me about it." Jace whispered and Aegon stiffened. "Aha! See, it's not just me!" Aegon puckered his lips and tilted his head back.

"What did you write?" Aegon asked and Jace frowned. His head tilted to the side.

"Nothing much. I asked him about the Reach, his training, if he'd be okay with Joff writing him. I figured he'd be more comfortable, hearing from me first, since we played together a bit when he was little."

Aegon hooked his chin over Jace's shoulder, "Tell Joffrey to ask about Tessa. Daeron will love that." Jace snorted, eyes rolling.

"That is unnecessary. Joff has a lot of questions about Tessarion. He's been practicing his letters more so he can write her name 'properly' when he sends his first letter," Jace huffed, head shaking, "He's very excited."

"That's adorable," Aegon smiled, arching up to kiss Jace's cheek. His nephew wrinkled his nose. Aegon poked his side.

With a groan, Jace ducked his head, "Fine, yes, it's adorable, for like... the first five minutes." Aegon raised an arm to wrap around Jace's neck. "Joff can go on for hours if you let him, it's absolutely maddening!"

Nuzzling at Jace's ear, Aegon skimmed his lips over his jawline, "Shall I reward you for your patience?" Jace flushed.

"Egg..." Jace's voice cracked as Aegon hooked his leg over Jace's lap.

"He reminds me of you, when we were little," Aegon mumbled, mouthing at Jace's neck. He nipped at his ear, voice husky as he rose up, "But a bit more mischievous, like me."

Jace's cock twitched, thickening against Aegon's thigh. Aegon smirked. His nephew took a shaky breath as his head fell back.

"Perhaps that's why he's my favorite," Aegon took full advantage of the long column of flesh now available to him. "A bit of a preview hmm? Of what our children might be like?"

Panting now, Jace tugged him fully into his lap. Aegon switched to the other side of his throat. He mouthed at the soft flesh, leaving Jace's skin red as he worked his way down.

"He'll be their favorite uncle, I'm sure," Jace breathed out, grip tight on Aegon's hips, "Joff would never stand for less." Aegon pulled the tie on Jace's shirt free as he moved down to his collarbone. His nephew moaned.

The door knob rattled uselessly. Jace raised his head to scowl at it. A hand thumped against the door, lower than Aegon expected. "Jace!" Joffrey whined as he knocked incessantly, "Wake up!"

"Still think he's adorable?" Jace hissed in his ear and Aegon muffled a giggle in his shoulder. His youngest nephew continued to pound on the door until Jace shouted, "I'm up!"

"Hurry! I want to watch Uncle Aegon and Aemond fly!" Joffrey demanded before his footsteps rushed off.

Still giggling, Aegon tugged at Jace's shirt, "I suggest you change, before you leave the room." His nephew glanced down. The shirt was covered in the same filth as Aegon's stomach. Jace's cheeks burned and Aegon pressed a kiss to each. "Come now, I need to go wake my brother. We wouldn't want to disappoint Joffrey."

Jace changed his shirt as Aegon righted his clothes. He pulled his doublet back over his shoulders and tugged his shoes on. At the door, Jace kissed him again, pushing him into the wood.

"You're taking a guard right?" Jace asked as he pulled back. Aegon's eyes fluttered, mouth falling open. Jace smirked, cupped his face, "With Luke, in the city. You didn't make a point of asking my mother, so... I assume you're sneaking out."

"Don't worry," Aegon pressed a kiss to his lips quickly, "I'll protect your brother as if he were my own."

Frowning, Jace nodded slowly, biting at his bottom lip. Another swift kiss, searing, and Jace was ducking out to clear the hall. Aegon was back inside the walls in moments.

He knew the route back to his mother's apartment better than any other. A good thing too, as his chest grew tight as he maneuvered through some of the narrower passages. His vision a bit... tipsy. When he stumbled into the spare room he'd stayed in a few months ago, Aegon took several deep breaths.

"You're fine," Aegon leaned on the desk and glared at his reflection in the mirror propped up against the wall.

It had just been a nightmare. A dumb one. He would do as the king wanted, as he himself wanted too. Desperately.

Aegon would marry Jace and they'd all be safe.

Safe. That's what he needed, what Jace had said. He needed to feel safe.

"Nowhere is safer than dragonback," Aegon inhaled slowly and stood up. He rolled his shoulders as he exhaled.

The guard outside his brother's room smiled as Aegon kicked open the door. His brother squawked when Aegon jumped on top of him, "Aemond~"

"Fucking cunt!" Aemond shoved at him, but Aegon merely cackled as he was thrown onto the floor. His brother scowled down at him. One eye a sharp blue, the other empty.

"I'm going to take a bath, and then we're going flying!" Aegon rose to his feet and flicked at his brother's forehead. Aemond snarled, hand batting his away.

It was an understatement, to say Aemond was not a morning person. That it was not, technically, morning yet was beside the point.

"I shall drag you to Vhagar in whatever state I find you when I finish," Aegon danced back as Aemond grabbed for him.

His brother fell out of his bed with a yelp, and then a groan. He tugged his blankets around him as he curled up on the floor.

"You're an ass," Aemond grumbled. Aegon merely laughed at him. He walked from the room with a skip in his step.

Helaena's head peeked out from her own room, eyes fluttering, "Are you alright, brother?"

"Just waking Aemond," Aegon waved her off, pausing to sway in the hall. His sister blinked. "We're going flying, like every morning. You're welcome to join us."

Her lip twitched up, "I will fly with you next week, for his nameday." She inclined her head forward. Her fingers twitched in her dressing gown as she surveyed him. "You seem... different."

Aegon ducked his head, smiling to himself. A hand hovered near his face and his head snapped up, eyes wide as Helaena grazed her fingers over his cheeks.

"You're flushed," Helaena smiled properly then, lips spreading wide. Lilac eyes softened, so pale they seemed almost white in the glow of the torches. She giggled, "Had a good night then, brother?"

The hand retreated, the sleeve of her dressing gown fell to her elbow. Aegon's eyes fluttered as he caught sight of the green on her arm.

Stark against her pale skin, but not so bright as Vermax. Softer. Smaller too, with just the dragon.

Moondancer.

A pale blue surrounded the green beast as she curled up on Helaena's forearm, a Velaryon blue that Aegon would recognize anywhere. As if Moondancer had chosen to rest within the waves that crashed upon Driftmark's shores.

His gaze snapped to her eyes. Helaena's smile remained as she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. He swallowed thickly.

"You ought to bathe, brother, you smell," Helaena teased him as she withdrew into her room. The door clicked shut and Aegon stared at it.

Baela. Their cousin who wore breeches more often than dresses and made a habit of beating squires in the yard when they looked too long at her sister.

Daemon Targaryen's eldest daughter. As brash as her father and a mouth that rivaled his own when she wanted.

Otto Hightower would rage worse than any dragon, if he knew. Aegon's throat bobbed as he listened to Helaena's faint humming through her door. He started walking again, towards the bath.

He asked the attendant to fetch him some fresh clothes, his riding leathers, and then he ordered the guard not to let anyone but his brother in. When Aemond walked in, dumping Aegon's clothes on a chair by the door, Aegon had already washed.

"I did not think it possible for you to be more annoying, and yet you continue to surprise me," Aemond drawled as he began to strip. He yawned as he tugged his shirt over his shoulders.

Aegon sunk into the water of the large tiled pool at the center of the room. He folded his arms over the edge and grinned at his brother, "I was inspired by your favorite nephew."

"Luke?" Aemond wrinkled his nose as he reached for a rag. "What did he do?" Aegon bit his lip to stiffle a giggle.

"For your sake, I will not inform Joffrey of what you've just said," Aegon snickered as his brother's face went pink.

A rag splashed into the water beside him as Aemond threw it at him from across the room. "I thought you were being sarcastic," Aemond huffed and began to scrub himself clean, vigorously.

"If you say so~" Aegon pushed off from the wall, humming softly to himself. He floated on his back, eyes closed, until Aemond settled on the edge in his smallclothes, legs dangling in the water. Aegon raised his head up, "Want me to wash your hair?"

"I don't want to get it wet before we go outside," Aemond shook his head. He pushed fingers through his hair, tugging out a few knots. He twisted it up on top of his head.

With a shrug, Aegon let his head fall back into the water. His hair was not so long as Aemond's. It would dry quickly, with the warmth returned to his body after the night before.

It continued to pulse beneath his skin, just as Helaena had noticed. His mark was calm, soothed by the heat pumping through him. As pleasant as sitting beside a bonfire, huddled beneath a blanket. But he required no fire. No blanket. Not anymore.

Aegon grinned to himself. Water splashed over his face and he squawked. Aemond was arching a brow, "You're in a good mood." His eye narrowed. The sapphire in his head gleaming. Aemond's voice lowered suspiciously, "Why?"

"I told you, I was inspired by Joffrey," Aegon dropped his legs to the bottom of the pool. He knelt on the seat beside his brother, smirking, "He woke Jace up this morning, demanding to watch us fly."

His brother blinked. His forehead wrinkled. And then the realization hit him.

"You were with Jace?!" Aemond hissed, voice low as he ducked his head close. "Are you insane?!" He snapped as Aegon nodded.

Rising up from the water, Aegon pressed a kiss to Aemond's forehead, "On the contrary, little brother, I'm agreeing with the king."

He grabbed a towel and ignored Aemond's grumbled, "And that's different how?"

"Rhaenyra loves her children," Aegon reminded his brother as he pulled on his smallclothes. Aemond frowned at him over his shoulder. "She'll love her grandchildren just as much. Like Otto does us."

Aemond snorted and stood up as Aegon reached for the thin black scarf on top of his clothes. His brother took it from his hands. As Aemond wrapped the fabric over his mark, he whispered, eyebrow arching, "Explain."

"The king said Valyrian men had other men as soulmates sometimes, that dragonriders could carry children," Aegon told him.

His brother knotted the scarf around his wrist. Forehead creasing, Aemond's hands lingered at his arm, "You're still warm." He glanced towards the water and then back to Aegon, "How is that?"

"Jace is going to check Dragonstone's library for the details, for how it works," Aegon cupped his brother's face, forcing eye contact. "He wants to wed me no matter what his mark says."

"I told you he liked you," Aemond pointed out and Aegon dropped his hands, rolling his eyes. His brother grinned.

Aemond dressed quicker than him, tugging his shirt over his head as Aegon tied his closed. His brother pursed his lips as he worked the fastenings of one of his leather surcoats. Aegon nudged him. With a snarl, Aemond tossed his head back. He didn't say anything more. Not then.

It was only once they got to Vhagar, once they were rising in to the air, with Aegon settled in front of his brother like a child, that Aemond finally broke. The sun peaking out on the horizon, they flew over the kingswood.

"Do you really think Rhaenyra will approve? You're the one who said she wouldn't, before," Aemond asked, arms blocking Aegon in on both sides. His knuckles were white on the pommel.

"I'm good with children," Aegon shrugged, biting at his bottom lip, "With Joffrey. She said so herself." He ducked his head.

She would want Jace to be happy, and if Aegon was carrying her grandchild... surely that would be enough to sway Rhaenyra. To convince her he had no interest in the throne.

"Neither you nor Daeron have a true claim while I'm alive," Aegon could speak plainly up in the sky. He did not whisper as he looked back at his brother, "And I will be Jace's future queen. The lords will be split. The septons too. So long as there's a babe in my belly before the king dies... it will all work out."

"You think it will be that easy?" Aemond narrowed his eye. Vhagar rumbled beneath them as they flew out over the Blackwater. Simply soaring.

Aegon sunk back into his brother's chest as he let Sunfyre's impatience roll over him. He called for his dragon, head pressed to Aemond's shoulder.

It would not be easy. Otto would despise such a plan. Be disgusted by him. A man reduced to a woman's role. The magic of dragons would obviously be necessary in some way. He'd be lucky if it didn't cause the Faith to rise against them once more.

"I think it is the only chance we have at happiness," Aegon whispered in to his brother's ear. "At avoiding bloodshed."

Aemond's nose wrinkled and his face twisted, "I know what childbirth entails." His throat bobbed, his voice caught. "There will still be blood, brother. And this would guarantee its yours."

Sunfyre gave a shriek of joy as he approached them. He bobbed through the air, zipping around Vhagar. Aemond snapped a command for calm as Aegon rose up.

"I've always been more mother's son than the king's anyway," Aegon shrugged. He ruffled his brother's hair, knocking the bun he'd tied loose. Silver strands flew out around Aemond's face as he scowled up at him.

His brother looked the most like the king. Joffrey said he looked like Daemon, which was true, but they were brothers, and Joffrey had only ever seen the king when his face was gaunt from one illness or another.

"Don't worry so much," Aegon chuckled, spreading his arms wide as he stood atop Vhagar's saddle. Aemond kept the beast of a dragon steady as Sunfyre flew beneath her. He winked at his brother, flashing him a quick smile, "Now, we have an audience to entertain."

He jumped, landing in his saddle with a huff. Aemond cursed at him as Sunfyre immediately twisted around Vhagar, screeching at the larger dragon as Aegon cackled. They teased the bronze beast into following them and Aemond shouted commands, keeping Vhagar under control as Sunfyre taunted and provoked her.

Vhagar grew grumpier and Aegon was forced to avoid her flames twice, but his brother was quick to pull her back as she snapped at Sunfyre. When his dragon bopped her nose with his tail, Vhagar roared and Sunfyre flew towards the Red Keep.

Just as they'd practice, Aemond forced Vhagar in the opposite direction, calming his dragon as they flew further out over the frozen bay. Aegon smiled to himself and circled the tower Joffrey had told him was his brother's favorite perch to watch from.

Sunfyre was a bit of a show off and Aegon double checked the straps around his leg as they twisted through the air. Squeals of delight, shrieks of laughter. They all floated out over the sky.

They'd made it a family affair apparently.

Jace held Joffrey up so he could see better over the railing, an arm hooked around his little brother's waist. The youngest of Rhaenyra's sons was in Daemon's arms, waving excitedly at Sunfyre.

"Shall we give them a show, my love?" Aegon drawled in Valyrian. A puff of smoke was his answer and Aegon straightened in his saddle. Sunfyre looped and soared on his next circuit about the castle.

Luke and Rhaena, both tucked beneath Rhaenyra's arms before, rushed towards the railing, smiling brightly. Baela exaggerated a roll of her eyes, possibly for his benefit, but perhaps to calm their guest. Cregan's brows furrowed and his lips tugging down in a deep frown as Sunfyre spread his wings and twisted upside down.

The only ones not watching him were Daemon and Rhaenyra themselves. Their gazes were focused over the Blackwater, off towards Aemond, and Vhagar. A similar curve to their lips as they frowned.

A loud roar echoed over the water. Aegon spared only a glance.

Vhagar remained farther from the coast. Sunfyre did not so much as flinch and the castle did not shake. Aemond had his dragon in hand, under control.

Gliding through the air with just the straps around his legs holding him in his saddle, Aegon laughed. Joffrey cheered, "I want to fly upside down too!"

Rhaenyra's head whipped around and Aegon met her wide eyes with a grin before commanding Sunfyre to twist back over. Daemon was scowling at him outright, calling after him. Aegon didn't listen. He was rather busy.

His heart raced as he looked back to Jace. The morning sun had set his eyes ablaze, as golden and hot as Sunfyre's flames as they grazed over Aegon.

"To Vhagar," Aegon cleared his throat, flushing crimson as he leaned forward to pat at Sunfyre's neck. His dragon banked left and Aegon spread his arms wide in an exaggerated bowed on his last pass in front of the tower.

Joffrey's giggle followed him out over the Blackwater, as did Jace's heavy gaze. A shudder ran up his spine and Sunfyre chirped.

"Oh shush you," Aegon blushed hotter, cheeks burning His dragon tossed his head back, shrieking joyfully. Aegon sunk into it.

He soared alongside his brother over the water a while longer, basking in the morning light. In the soft bark of laughter from Aemond when Vhagar nudged Sunfyre onto her neck, just as the golden dragon had done to Tyraxes weeks before. Sunfyre was less amused than the younger dragon had been.

Aegon rolled his shoulders back, settling in his saddle. It would be a good day. He was certain. The tight ball of fear, of dread, curling in his stomach, was resolutely ignored. Disregarded.

There was no reason to worry. Not now. Luke had even been wearing a plain doublet, a pale blue. Nothing ostentaious. They'd be able to slip in and out of the castle without any issue.

Bile churned in his gut regardless. The fear clawing at his insides. Aegon huffed. He'd much prefered when he hadn't realized what it was.

"It will all work out," Aegon whispered the same thing to himself he'd told Aemond. He couldn't make himself believe it anymore than his brother had.

Chapter Text

Aegon followed Aemond back to their mother's apartments once they returned to the Red Keep, breaking his fast with his siblings and relishing in the warmth that lingered in his limbs. The flesh of his fingers tingling from the heat.

It was as if he'd returned to a time before his mark had appeared, when his body had boiled even in winter and he'd slept in nothing but a sheet. Aegon was half tempted to change into a thinner doublet.

But that would bring attention. Questions.

Plus, he didn't have any thin doublets anymore. Certainly none that were as plain as the black one he wore now.

"Breaking your fast with us instead of Sunfyre?" His mother's eyes fluttered when she saw him at the table. She raised a handkerchief to her lips, dabbing at them as she sat, "Will you be attending court this morning then?"

With a snort, Aegon shook his head. He sipped at his water. His mother pecked vaguely at a roll. She ate three bites of some fruit and then held the handkerchief to her lips again.

"Well, you'll stay out of trouble at least, I hope?" Her eyebrow arched as Aegon narrowed his gaze on her. She smiled at him, head tilting expectantly.

"Yes, yes," Aegon huffed, waving a hand vaguely forward, "I have no plans for mischief." Aemond snorted and he squawked, shoving at his brother, "I don't!" His mother chuckled and Aegon pouted, "You're all so mean to me."

Humming softly, Helaena dropped something on his plate. A vaguely black something. He blinked. She took her a bite off her plate while making pointed eye contact. Aegon shrugged. He snapped the piece up, swallowing it quickly.

"At least someone is nice to me," Aegon sniffed, chin rising. Aemond rolled his eye as Helaena giggled.

Whatever she'd fed him was vaguely crunchy, but it went down well enough. He snatched Aemond's juice next and finished it off. He smacked his lips together noisily as he set the goblet back down.

Aemond glowered at him, nose wrinkling as Aegon grinned. His brother huffed, "I hope it was a beetle."

"Grasshopper," Helaena said and Aegon winced. His sister giggled when he groaned. She continued to laugh, head ducking forward, "A Volantene species that can survive intense heat and cold variation. It's a sought after ingredient in many healing and fertility elixirs."

"Sounds lucky to me!" Aegon stuck his tongue out at Aemond, ignoring the way his cheeks flushed at the word 'fertility.'

His brother did not. Aemond leaned forward to squint at Helaena. "Why would you want Aegon to eat that?"

She ignored him, taking another bite of her breakfast. Noticeably devoid of grasshoppers.

Aegon leaned back in his seat. He sipped at his water again and met his mother's gaze over the table as she did the same. A smile twitched at his lips. She mirrored him, shoulders sagging as she relaxed in her seat.

A servant entered, bowing low before handing his mother a small scroll. They scurried away as quickly as they'd come.

"Oh." Their mother's eyes widened as she read the message. She straightened. Her brow furrowed. Aemond stiffened beside him. Helaena's head rose up from her plate, gaze sharp as she frowned.

"What?" Aegon swallowed thickly and leaned over his empty plate. Her lips spread into a soft smile as her eyes rose to meet his.

"The king would like you to join him for dinner tonight," the queen announced. Her smile grew, bright and hopeful, "Just the two of you."

Aegon's mouth fell open, "Me?!" His mother nodded. He hunched his shoulders as he slumped back in his seat. "Me and the king?" Aegon checked. She chuckled, nodding a second time. "Why would he-"

Clicking her tongue, the queen rose. She handed him the message, "It's a good thing. He wants to speak with you."

"But... he doesn't even like me?" Aegon mumbled to himself as he read the message. His mother sighed, circling around the table. He looked up at her, eyes wide. She paused as his voice trembled, "What am I even suppose to say to him?"

"Just... talk with him," she pursed her lips, head tilting, "He likes Valyrian history. Philosophy." Aegon whimpered and she smiled again. A hand brushed through his hair. "Viserys is not so scary, Aegon. He's your father."

Nodding slowly, Aegon stared down at the note again. It was not his grandfather's handwriting, or any of the maesters' that he might recognize.

The king. The king had written his mother a note asking what Aegon's favorite food was, had requested him.

His father wanted to see him.

A tightness in his chest forced Aegon to take a long, shuddering breath. The queen squeezed at his shoulder. A kiss was pressed to the top of his head, "You could... you could ask if he's considered your request, about Daeron coming to visit."

"I will," Aegon promised, head bobbing. The queen swept from the room and Aegon whined, head falling back against his seat. He glanced to the side, to his brother.

A wide eye stared back, a brighter blue than the sapphire that flanked it. Aemond pursed his lips.

"Do you think he'd notice if you went instead?" Aegon whispered, cringing as he rubbed at his neck. Neither of them laughed.

"The king is sickly, not senile," Helaena sighed at his other side. "Yet." Aegon fell foward, wrapping his arms over his head.

"He's going to hate me," Aegon inhaled slowly, voice shaking. The tight feeling in his chest spread. His stomach twisted.

What if the king actually hated him? What if Aegon screwed up, like he always did, and the king grew angry with him, with his mother-

"Just... talk about dragons maybe?" Aemond interrupted his spiraling thoughts. He shook Aegon's shoulder, "You know more about dragons than me, and I've read nearly every book we have on the subject."

The compliment eased his nerves enough for Aegon to lift his head. He still badgered Aemond all the way to the library about Valyrian history. His brother quite liked it, after all.

He'd read all those books!

What his brother did not like was trying to explain thousands of years of history in the, roughly, twenty minutes it took for them to arrive.

Aemond lost his temper three steps before the door.

"How can you not remember who Aenar Targaryen is?!" Aemond snapped as they entered. Even the maester straightened in his seat at the venom in his brother's voice. Their nephews blinked as Aegon tugged on Aemond's arm.

"Don't I get points for remembering Daenys?" Aegon puckered his lips and Aemond scowled. "No?" He tipped his head back, groaning, "It's not my fault history is so boring~"

Aemond choked, whirling around on the balls of his feet. His hair flew out as he growled, "How the fuck are we even related?!"

Hands fisted. Shoulders tensed.

The maester tutted and Aemond's sharp gaze turned on him next. His brother hadn't worn the eye patch for once. Aegon smirked as the maester paled.

"If you'll excuse me, your graces..."

And with that, Aemond had chased away the one authority figure in the room. Guards remained outside in the hall, but it was just the four of them now.

"Wonderful job, Aem!" Aegon clapped his hands, grinning widely. His brother sneered at him. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Aegon looked towards Luke, eyebrows rising, "Ready?"

His nephew startled, cheeks flushing as he stood up from the table. Aemond's brow furrowed, "Ready for what?"

"We're going into the city," Aegon told him, hooking his arm with Luke's as his nephew settled at his side. Aemond's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

"You promised mother you had no mischief planned!"

Aegon rolled his eyes with a scoff, "Spending time with my nephew is hardly mischief." He glanced down at Luke. A smirk twisted at his lips that matched Aegon's.

Puckering his bottom lip, Luke leaned further into his side. He fluttered his lashes, first at Aemond, then at Jace.

"Joffrey got to go."

Oh, his nephew did a truly excellent pout when necessary. His voice wavering just the slightest bit as he spoke.

"I just want to spend some quality time with my uncle."

His act didn't work on Jace though. Even as Aemond's lashes fluttered, Jace rose from his seat. Arms crossing, eyes narrowing. A lecture on his lips as he glared at the two of them.

"Do I need to bribe you, Jacaerys? Perhaps take you out into the city too some time?" Aegon drawled, grinning as Jace's cheeks immediately went pink. He traced a finger over his throat as Jace swallowed. Thickly. His gaze following Aegon's hand down to the collar of his doublet.

Luke giggled, ducking his head against Aegon's shoulder. Aemond groaned, arms crossing as he turned away. Jace's jaw twitched.

"Our brothers are far too dramatic," Aegon sighed, wrapping an arm around Luke's shoulder. Eyes widened, words were choked out. Aegon cackled as he dragged Luke away before Jace could stalk from the table.

"Just don't burn down the city!" Aemond called after him. His brother was ignored as Aegon led his nephew through a tapestry hiding the hole in one of the library's interior walls.

Aegon laced his fingers with Luke's and tugged him down the passageway. It was one of the wider ones, more like a proper hallway than most. A window greeted them at a deadend and Aegon grazed his palm over the wall beside it until he found the loose stone he was looking for.

"You really do know all the hidden passageways..." Luke's mouth dropped open, eyes widening in awe as they slipped inside the wall. Into the maze of truly hidden passageways.

"Most, maybe," Aegon shrugged as they descended down to Aegon's second favorite hiding spot near the Great Hall, "I can find my way at least, but there's many places in this castle I've never gone."

The spare cloak Aegon hadn't returned to Mysaria yet was drapped over his nephew's shoulders once he retrieved it.

"You Velaryons and your bright colors," Aegon clicked his tongue as he clasped the cloak at Luke's throat.

The doublet his nephew wore was plain, simple, but still obnoxiously blue. It was hidden beneath the dark cloak regardless. Well enough for the Street of Steel at least.

He smiled when Luke's cheeks flushed. The boy bit his lip, failing to contain his laughter, "We can't all wear black every day, uncle."

Eyes swept upwards and a smirk teased at Luke's face. Flicking his nephew's forehead, Aegon scoffed as he pushed his silver hair back. "I don't just wear black."

Disguising his own features would prove more difficult than hiding Luke's doublet. Or, require more effort, anyway. He twisted his hair on top of his head and pulled a black cap over his head.

He hated wearing hats. They itched at his ears.

Luke snorted, eyes rolling, "Even for a Targaryen, you wear a lot of black, uncle. Black and gold and nothing else. Ever."

With a hum, Aegon ruffled Luke's hair before yanking the hood down over his head. His nephew shrieked, hands flying up to push the hood back.

Normally, he'd wear his own. But two hooded figures sneaking around forges would draw the attention of the City Watch. Even Luke wouldn't be able to wear his too low without being suspicious.

The things Aegon suffered through for his nephews.

He smirked down at Luke, arms crossing as he rocked forward, "What can I say? Your mother claimed the red before I was born."

"You're ridiculous!" Luke chuckled, smiling broadly even as Aegon shoved him lightly. He took Luke's hand again and started dragging his nephew through the maze of tunnels and ladders.

It wouldn't take too long to sneak out of the castle, but they'd have to go through the main gate and the sooner the better for that. If Aegon had timed it right, they'd be able to slip through with some of the delivery people on their way out after their morning haul had been unloaded.

Getting past the guards would be next to impossible after that. He'd have to bribe one, which was nearly as risky as taking Luke through Flea Bottom instead.

Nearly was the opperative word there, so Aegon set a fairly quick pace.

"Alicent!" Daemon's voice called out and Aegon froze. His body went cold as he heard the sharp snap of his uncle's footsteps on stone floors.

His mother cleared her throat, "Prince Daemon." Aegon swallowed, imagining her wringing her hands as his uncle stalked towards her. Circled her.

Like a predator, playing with their food.

"Did you wish to speak with me about something?" his mother asked politely.

"Your son," Daemond sniffed, "About Aegon."

Oh fuck. Aegon's stomach flipped and his eyes went wide as Luke tilted his head. He was listening too then. Listening as Daemon cornered his mother in the one hallway in the Red Keep that had not even a single entrance or exit from the secret passageways.

At least not one Aegon knew.

"I am concerned for his well-being," Daemon announced, words clipped. His mother was silent. Aegon thought she might be squinting, or perhaps gaping, at the prince.

It was not often anyone but Aegon could properly shock his mother. And usually it was Helaena when someone did manage it.

"I noticed a bruise yesterday, and I know he still frequently sleeps at a brothel..."

His mother laughed, a breathy and forced little thing, "My son attends court and Small Council meetings, your grace. He is fulfilling his obligations. I do not concern myself with how he spends the rest of his time. Nor should you."

An utter lie.

His mother badgered him frequently to remain at the Red Keep, to stay in her apartments. If she had it her way, Aegon would rarely step out of her sight.

Nor would Aemond. Certainly not Helaena.

Daemon growled and Aegon's hands fisted at his side. His breath caught in his throat as Daemon snapped, "I will not leave the safety of a prince to chance."

His mother sighed.

"You're as bad as Viserys!" Daemon shouted and Aegon winced. "Will no one in this bloody castle take a threat seriously?!"

"And what threat is it you think I ought to be taking seriously?" Alicent snapped back. She huffed, voice rising, "The only danger I have seen to my son as late has been you!" Daemon growled again.

"Careful, your grace," Cole's voice pipped up. His steps came with the creak of armor. Aegon swallowed back bile.

He couldn't see either of them, but he knew both men would be clutching the pommels of their swords. Sizing one another up, surveying one another.

"If I knew the danger," Daemon hissed and Aegon did not have to see him to know the man was sneering, "I would have dealt with it already. Swiftly, and with great force."

A crisp snap and the footsteps came again. The flutter of a cloak. Daemon stalking off. Overdramatic.

"I am... hardly one to agree with Daemon, your grace," Cole whispered and what ever he said next was muffled by the stone walls between them. For better or worse.

Prodding gently at his back, Luke quietly prompted him. Head tilting, eyebrow arching.

Aegon ignored the unasked question and kept walking. They didn't have far left to go.

In the outer courtyard near the gate, Aegon checked Luke's hood was up and pulled his own snug around his shoulders. His features were obscured by the hat and the collar of the hood. Luke was entirely hidden, swallowed up by Mysaria's cloak.

"You stick close to me," Aegon reminded him as they crouched near the wall. He bopped Luke's nose, eyebrows arching.

Luke swallowed, head bobbing in a short nod, "I will." Aegon squeezed his hand and Luke squeezed back.

Flashing his nephew a quick smile, Aegon ducked beside a cart exiting the Red Keep and slipped out of the gate. Luke clung to his side. His grip tight in Aegon's until they had descended Aegon's High Hill, entirely undetected.

"We'll take the Hook, and then head for the Street of Steel from Fishmonger's Square," Aegon explained, humming as his feet carried him forward. Luke stayed with him, plastered to his side.

Just like Joffrey, Luke's head turned constantly as they made their way through the streets. His head ducked low, bowed to Aegon's shoulder, Luke did a much better job of hiding his gawking than his little brother. He moaned softly though, as they grew closer to Fishmonger's Square. His nose rising and his steps drifting closer to the vendors.

Aegon grinned at his nephew's dramatics. The Hook had the best street food in his opinion. While Flea Bottom struggled to feed itself, the Hook had a daily supply of fresh meat.

Either sold by or stolen from the various fish markets, Aegon had never seen a food vendor cart in the Hook without some sort of fried fish on a stick.

"Come on," Aegon chuckled and wrapped an arm around Luke's shoulder. Dissuading the curious pickpocket who'd been eyeing his nephew's shoes with interest.

A nobleman could never truly hide amongst the smallfolk. Not for long.

He bought Luke a fish and watched his nephew devour it gleefully. Hands left greasy and disgusting even as Luke fluttered his lashes at the merchant. A second fish was presented to him with a flourish.

"Do you come here all the time?" Luke asked as Aegon dunked his hands in one of the buckets of water beside a vendor's cart. Left out just for this reason. He wiped his wet hands on his nephew's cloak and Luke followed his example, eyes rolling.

"I usually stick closer to the north side," Aegon admitted, taking Luke's hand again once they were both clean.

A hum followed. A click of Luke's tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Daemon says you spend more time on the Street of Silk than you do at the Red Keep."

Shoulders rolling back, Aegon shrugged, "I suppose. I sleep there more often than not. It's closer to the Dragon Pit."

Not that Aegon had been to the Dragon Pit all that recently. Not since that episode after his flight with Joffrey...

"And Daemon can hardly talk," Aegon cleared his throat. He avoided Luke's gaze as he laughed, "He was known as Lord Flea Bottom when he was my age you know."

"And you're the Wildfire Prince," Luke giggled, smile bright as he looked up at Aegon. The hood fell back a bit, not far. Just enough for dark curls to peak out.

Luke was growing quickly. Only eleven and already to Aegon's shoulder. With a groan, Aegon hooked his arm around Luke's neck and leaned on him. His whining earned him giggles as they started up the Street of Steel.

With each step, they climbed the steep slope of Visenya's Hill. The various shops grew grander and their wares more intricate. Luke stopped a few times to eye a blade or two.

Aegon had no interest in swords. He wore the one on his hip only out of necessity. And guilt.

His mother would worry more if he didn't. And he'd promised Cole.

And Jace. After a fashion.

It would be rather difficult to protect Luke if he were unarmed after all.

In either case, when Luke paused to survey a blacksmith hammering at a long blade meant for a tourney sword, Aegon let his own gaze drift over the man's arms.

The muscles twisting and flexing beneath tanned skin.

The memory of Jace grinding against his hip. Their bodies molding together. It floated through his head as he watched knuckles go white around the handle of a hammer. His cock twitched as he remembered Jace wrapping his hand around them both. Fingers flexing.

"Would he want a sword?" Luke asked, biting his lip as he tilted his head up. Aegon startled, coughing as his eyes fluttered.

"What?" Aegon breathed out, straightening as Luke yanked on his arm.

His nephew rolled his eyes, "Aemond? Would he want a sword?"

Aegon snorted. His brother would love a sword. It was his mother who would object to it. Vehemently.

"No. That's probably the one thing you can't buy him," Aegon chuckled, head shaking, "I can't either."

Luke's brow furrowed. His head tilted, "Why not? You have one and-"

"I have his, technically," Aegon shrugged, inclining his head forward as his fingers twitched at the pommel. "Maybe he'll want it back, when he's older."

He dragged Luke away from the open-faced forged to continue up the hill. Without the distraction of his fantasies, Aegon found the noise of metal meeting metal far too familiar. His nephew whined as he was pulled away from the half-finished tourney sword.

"That makes no sense, why would Aemond get your sword-:

"My uncle gave it to me, when I left for the Stepstones." Aegon cut him off, throat bobbing as Luke's face pinched. "He didn't exactly have a lot of notice, so I expect this sword is the one he commissioned specially, for Aemond, back when he was still hoping to take my brother as a squire."

Whether his uncle still intended for his brother to have it in the future was... uncertain. They'd never spoken about the sword. Not properly.

Aegon hardly spoke with anyone properly. Words were never as honest as a blade. Or fire.

"When was that?" Luke asked. A hand grazed over his arm. Luke wrapped himself around it properly, head ducking low, "Aemond would make a good knight, but... I don't want him to leave the Red Keep."

"My mother doesn't either," Aegon clipped Luke's chin with his left hand, smiling down at his nephew, "And this was years ago, before Aemond claimed a dragon." Luke's eyes widened.

"Wait, but..." Luke's jaw clenched and his head dropped again. His shoulders shook. He mumbled something.

Quiet and soft. An accusation.

Aegon stiffened and his feet paused, "What was that?"

His voice was harsher than he meant it to be. Sharper. He felt eyes on the back of his neck. Curious stares as his words carried farther than intended.

Avoiding Aegon's gaze, Luke swallowed, "Is that why he tried so hard? To claim a dragon? So he wouldn't have to leave?"

"Daeron claimed a dragon and the king still sent him away," Aegon huffed, nose wrinkling. He turned his head, scowling. His nostrils flared.

"But we were always teasing him..." Luke cringed, head tilting up. The hood fell back properly then. He lowered his voice, stepping closer, "It was suppose to be funny, but..."

Aemond had not found it funny. Even in retrospect, he still glowered whenever it came up, usually when they were fighting.

His brother was not the forgiving sort.

"If you're hoping the perfect nameday gift is going to make up for anything, eye or not, you're going to be very disappointed," Aegon sighed. He turned to face his nephew, cupping Luke's face.

It was much softer than Jace's. The curves smoother. The jaw less defined. Less square. A pointed chin like Rhaenyra's with big eyes.

Big eyes that were focused entirely on him. Wide and vaguely distressed. Tears gathering on his lashes.

"Aemond likes his grudges. Even when he says he forgives you. He hasn't." Aegon spoke quietly. His smile sad. "It's the trick up his sleeve, when he argues. Ready to end the game. Up end it really."

"He's been nicer to me though," Luke whispered, sniffling, "Like when we were little even. He doesn't snap at me when I walk with him places. He let's me spar with him now and everything, even though I'm really bad."

Chuckling, Aegon held his face in both hands, "Oh, sweet Lucerys, he's sparring with you because you're so bad." Luke flushed crimson. "You can be vicious. When necessary." He tilted his head forward, holding Luke's watery gaze, "And Aemond can too."

With a sniffle, Luke nodded, "I understand." He pressed his cheek to Aegon's arm as they started walking again. Hands fisted in Aegon's cloak.

"It wasn't just us, either," Aegon told him, lips pursing, "The king teased him too, about being 'bold enough' to claim a dragon."

"No one is more bold than Aemond," Luke scoffed, lips puckering into a pout. "And besides, he was only ten. Mother only claimed Syrax at seven, and she's still the youngest person to ride a dragon."

A feat which was, at least partially, by design Aegon suspected.

Almost everyone else with a dragon at that age had needed to wait for their dragons to grow large enough to mount. Aegon had been eight when he was allowed to ride Sunfyre the first time. Tessarion was considerably larger than Sunfyre, but Daeron had only been allowed to try mounting the blue dragon a few months after his ninth nameday.

"I don't think the king meant it as a challenge," Aegon hummed, frowning slightly, "But I am certain Aemond took it as such."

"Aemond takes everything as a challenge," Luke inhaled deeply, head shaking. He looked up, squinting at him suddenly.

Arching a brow, Aegon met his gaze, "What?"

"You always call him 'the king.'" Luke tilted his head, "Mother doesn't do that." Aegon snorted. His head snapped forward and his shoulders rolled back.

"Well, we're not close, like your mother and he are." Aegon squeezed Luke's hand.

His next breath was tighter, shallower.

The king wanted to see him for dinner. Just him. Speak with him. Converse.

Aegon hadn't spoken with his father alone since his sixteenth nameday. Since the king had told him to keep his mark hidden and Aegon had begged not to be forced on Jace.

"You see him regularly don't you?" Aegon asked, lips pursing as he turned his head. Luke startled. His nephew's eyes widened. "The king. Your mother has tea with him every day right? So... you must see him. Speak with him."

"I suppose," Luke wrinkled his nose. His head tilted and he shrugged, "He mostly talks with Mother, and Daemon. Sometimes he asks questions about our studies. Or talks with Jace about his duty to the throne, to the people."

It sounded boring. Not at all interesting.

Yet Aegon found himself badgering Luke with more questions. Surely he could please the king, if he knew what Viserys liked. And if he pleased the king, then Daeron could come home.

Aegon hung off every word Luke said. His chest tight and his focus sharp on his nephew. Viserys rambled when he was excited, usually about Valyria. But he found their laws and traditions too fanciful. Thought them driven by emotion and magic more than reason.

Apparently, neither the king nor Luke appreciated the irony. Aegon had barely contained his laughter

Those were his grandfather's words, not the king's.

"He seems to like the architecture the most, I think that's why he has the model," Luke clicked his tongue and turned his head.

They were near the top now. The nicer shops, but not overly expensive. No golden armors were displayed, but several of the chest plates and helms were intricate enough to garner a second look.

Luke paused as he caught sight of a shield in a window. A singular dragon in profile decorated the front, maw opened wide and wings aloft as the head was tilted up. Flames burst from the dragon's mouth. Wrapping around it in a wide circle to decorate the edge of the shield.

"Let's go in there," Luke didn't wait for him. He was already rushing forward, leaving Aegon to chase after him.

The shop was modest. A little bell twinkled as they walked through the door. An arched opening showcased the forge in the back where a couple of apprentices were working.

"Good day," an older man ambled in from the forge, smiling as he Luke went straight for the shield. "That would be the work of a journeymen smith under my tutelage. Awarded him the rank myself when he finished that shield, in fact."

"It's amazing," Luke grinned broadly, finger hovering above the bent metal that made the flames. He traced the design. The dragon. "It looks like Vhagar a little."

The smith laughed, "All the dragons look about the same to me, I'm afraid. Just bigger or smaller shadows on the ground as they fly overhead."

A smile twitched at Aegon's lips as he stood beside Luke. His nephew hummed, gaze transfixed. Head turning, Luke looked at Aegon, eyes wide. Aegon nodded and Luke spun around.

"How much for it?" Luke was already reaching for the pouch of gold dragons hidden in his doublet.

The smith waved him off, head shaking, "My apologies, but the smith who crafted it wishes to sell it only to a Targaryen. It's his best work."

"So far," Aegon tacked on and the smith chuckled. He glanced at Luke, smirking as he reached for his hat. "You're sure that's what you want to buy?"

"Absolutely!" Luke nodded vigorously, "Aemond will love it!" The smith froze and then his eyes widened as Aegon pulled his hat off. Luke turned to the man, already pouting.

"My nephew is a Velaryon technically, but he does have Targaryen blood, will that do?" Aegon shook out his hair, letting the messy waves fall around his face. He pushed back his cloak so the man could see the pommel of his sword.

The steel was black, not silver. Whatever technique was required to forge iron in such a way was beyond Aegon's comprehension, but he knew it was an expensive process. Just as well as he knew that the dark stone at the top of the grip was even more unique.

A piece of the Hightower. A glimmering black stone so dark that light itself seemed to bounce away on instinct as it sat, nestled in the steel like a decorative gem.

No one else had a sword like it. Even his uncle. Gwayne had told him them stories of a few similar blades as children, forged for the second sons of a few Hightower lords over the centuries. Each had been lost to history or buried with the men in question.

House Hightower had a Valyrian steel sword. They had no need for a sword like this. Only as a reward for those sons of their house who would not weild Vigilance despite their proficiency and honor. Two things Aegon certainly lacked.

In any case, Aegon suspected a smith of King's Landing was more likely to recognize the craftmanship of the sword than the face of any prince.

He was not wrong.

The smith's eyes had snapped to the sword and immediately he bowed. Luke clasped his hands behind him, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.

"Does that mean I can buy it?" Luke asked and the man stammered out a response that might have been words. A name fell from his lips a moment later. Calling out as his head turned towards the forge.

A younger man appeared in the archway. His eyes fluttered as he looked from his master to Luke, his blue doublet now fully exposed as he pushed his cloak back to reach for his money. Finally, his gaze settled on Aegon, and then his sword.

"My nephew would like to buy that dragon shield," Aegon batted his lashes as he spoke, smirking as the young smith flushed. He inclined his head towards the shield, "I understand you only wish to sell it to a Targaryen."

"I, uh, yes, since they're the only true dragons, I had hoped one might notice it and-"

Luke whined, head falling back. He was pouting properly, "I want to give it to Aemond for his nameday, would that suffice?"

The young man squeaked, "You... you want to give my work to Prince Aemond?"

"Apparently, the dragon looks a bit like Vhagar," the older smith whispered to him. The journeyman faltered. His whole face paling. He stammered. Stuttering as his breaths came shortly.

"Take it then, please," the man spat out, gasping. He gestured vaguely. Hands flailing as he fell over himself bowing to Luke. "I can think of no better payment than having a Targaryen prince own a piece of my work."

The grin that spread across Luke's face was blinding. His cheeks were surely aching at the sheer size.

Aegon chuckled as his nephew went back to the shield. He lavished the smith in compliments until the man was even more of a stuttering mess, eyes shimmering with pride.

Highly effective. Aegon approved.

"Do you have anything with a similar design?" Aegon hummed as he began to circle the room. He surveyed some of the items on display.

Daggers and swords mostly. A few pieces of armor. Most were simple designs. Finely crafted, but not overly unique. Helms etched with wings on the side. A chestplate with the gates of the Red Keep at the center.

No house armors or crests, save the dragon shield. This shop had no noble patrons. Not yet.

"If it pleases you, my prince, I may have something," the older smith grinned broadly before ducking back into the forge. He returned with a dagger.

The hilt was curved to a point, a near mirror of the small blade. Aegon's eyes fluttered and his steps paused.

"I had the honor of apprenticing at the Red Keep in my youth," the man proclaimed loudly as he offered Aegon the dagger. "I saw the Old King himself a time or two. Always with a dagger on his hip. Made it my mission to make something similar and I've held on to it all these years."

Luke gasped, nearly slamming into Aegon's side as he rushed over. He gaped at the short blade. Eyes wide.

It was an excellent replica. A steel blade instead of dragonglass. With a seamless shift to the handle, textured like small scales at the base. A faux talon, a dragon's claw instead of its bone.

"Could you make others like this?" Aegon turned it in his hand, brow furrowing, "A rapier perhaps?"

"Certainly, my prince," the smith said, nodding sharply as he gestured towards the younger man, "Willas here could as well. He is training to be a weaponsmith specifically."

Excellent. Aegon smirked, head rising as he passed back the small blade in his hand. Luke clicked his tongue, "I thought you said we couldn't get Aemond a sword. That your mother wouldn't like it."

The two smiths stiffened at the mention of the queen. A look was exchanged.

"My brother is not the only Targaryen with a nameday on the horizon." Aegon laughed, chin rising as Luke groaned. He nudged him and Luke headed for the counter.

Luke talked the smith into taking a small payment. For the trouble of packaging and sending the shield to the Red Keep, if not for the 'work of art' itself. His nephew was quite charismatic it seemed. Persuasive with his earnest nature and his soft features.

Aegon watched it all out of the corner of his eye. Listening only slightly as he negotiated in the opposite direction with the older smith.

A young and easily flattered journeymen was eager to have his work appreciated. An older master with a shop near the top of the Street of Steel knew his value. And he made Aegon pay for it, properly.

Both for the blade he tied to his belt and the one he commissioned. His cousin would appreciate a sword to compliment her fighting style though. And it would annoy his uncle.

A silent revenge for Daemon's interruption of his fun with Jace the night before. And a thank you for Baela's excellent advice, even if it hadn't been directed at him.

All with one gift!

"Ready?" Aegon beckoned his nephew once the shield had been lifted from its display. He drew his hair up, tucking it back beneath his cap as Luke fixed his cloak.

"Dragon Pit?" Luke asked, eyebrows arching. Aegon rolled his eyes and nodded. His nephew perked up.

They ducked out of the shop and continued on their way up Visenya's Hill. Aegon snatched Luke's hand to his and his nephew dutifully wrapped himself around Aegon's arm. His left this time, instead of the right.

His eyes fluttered and he glanced down, brow furrowing, "You're warm." Aegon hummed. Eyes flicked up to his face. Narrowed. "But you're never warm."

"Well, I've helped you find a gift for my brother, now you can help me find one for yours," Aegon tutted as he craned his neck to look at some of the shops around them. His cheeks flushed as Luke's hand graved over the spot where his mark lay.

His warmth didn't falter. The heat continuing to course through his veins. No sharp chill, no stab of pain. Aegon's throat bobbed.

"His egg just hatched," Luke supplied finally, hand rising back up to wrap around Aegon's bicep. He tilted his head to rest his forehead against Aegon's shoulder. "Joffrey's already demanding that the both of them be taught Valyrian immediately."

"I'm still shocked your mother hasn't taught all of you from the beginning. She and Laenor spoke it all the time when I was small."

His nephew stiffened. Hands squeezed at his arm. Aegon looked down.

"Mother speaks it with Daemon a bit, and grandfather, but... unless we start talking in Valyrian, she doesn't." Luke frowned. Deeply. "I don't know why."

"Did you ever ask her?" Aegon asked. He pursed his lips, "About the other thing, about Laenor's rule for fighting?"

A low grumble slipped from Luke's throat as his nephew scowled at the ground, "She just... she said it was something he started saying after their wedding. After the Stepstones and the murder of his best friend."

Oh. Aegon blinked. He swallowed thickly. Luke inhaled sharply, shoulders sagging.

"Joff is upset actually, about the new dragon." Luke changed the topic swiftly. His chin rose. "Stormcloud looks a lot like Seasmoke. And everyone comments on Aegon looking just like Daemon so..."

"So I shouldn't get my littlest nephew anything my little nephew would want?" Aegon offered and Luke nodded swiftly. "Does Stormcloud sleep in the nursery?" Another nod. "A muzzle then."

Luke startled, tripping over his own feet as he squawked, "You can't muzzle a dragon!" Aegon chuckled, head shaking.

"It's not a true muzzle, Luke, don't have a fit," Aegon dragged him up.

He swung an arm around Luke's shoulders as they stopped. His nephew was staring at him, face stricken and cheeks flushed with anger.

"My mother asked the dragonkeepers to devise something for Sunfyre, when I was little. I shared my nursery with Helaena, and then, soon after, with Aemond. Neither of whom were good at keeping their grubby hands off *my* dragon."

His words had no effect and Aegon scoffed. Rolling his eyes, he shook Luke properly, hands squeezing at his shoulders.

"It's more like a collar, with a weird leash," Aegon explained further. His description was far from helpful, but he hadn't seen the thing in over a decade.

Vermax had not been required to wear one. Nor Arrax. Aegon hummed, lips puckering. He shrugged.

"Or I could get him a dragon toy?" Aegon suggested and Luke nodded slowly. Eyes still wide. "Perhaps one that looks like Stormcloud even?"

"I can't believe you muzzled Sunfyre..." Luke shrieked quietly, voice pitched low as his hands flew up.

Rather dramatic. Aegon scoffed, "I was four, Luke, I did nothing but beg for my dragon to sleep with me. The muzzle was a compromise, I think."

One of the many between his mother and Rhaenyra as he'd grown up, before the compromises had stopped abruptly. When Daeron had left.

His sister had been allowed to teach him Valyrian privately, but his nanny had to accompany him to her apartments. Laenor could take him flying, but they had to stay near the city. In sight of the Red Keep.

"Has Joffrey ever gotten to meet Seasmoke?" Aegon bit his lip. His eyes narrowed as Luke shook his head.

"Seasmoke is nesting on Driftmark. It's been... awkward, since the wedding, so we haven't visited much. Not for long. Jace said he'd take Joff and I down into the dragon stables, the next time we go, but...."

Aegon's mouth fell open, "But... it's your future seat." Luke ducked his head, shoulders hunching. "When did you last visit?"

Lips pursed, dark eyes focused resolutely on his shoes. Aegon swallowed. His chest grew tight. He tapped at Luke's chin and his nephew raised his head.

"Mother and grandmother haven't spoken since you left for the Stepstones," Luke whispered.

The words were loud in his head anyway.

"We write to her, Jace and I, Baela and Rhaena, even Joff." Luke fidgeted, stilling only when Aegon's grip tightened. His breath hitching as Luke mumbled, "Grandmother hasn't stayed in King's Landing for more than a few hours since Jace's thirteenth nameday. Mother will only go to Dragonstone."

It was his fault. Always his fault.

He didn't know how, but he'd made it worse. Obviously. Aegon had made the rift between Rhaenyra and Rhaenys wider when he'd left. He'd weakened Rhaenyra's claim.

Jace's.

"I... I didn't mean to..." Aegon squeezed his eyes shut as the words escaped. A small whimper.

Luke slammed into his chest, wrapping himself tightly around Aegon. He huffed, "You didn't do anything. They're just being stupid." Aegon laughed wetly, bowing his head to kiss the top of Luke's.

Aegon never had to do anything. He just had to exist. His every move, his every breath an attack against Rhaenyra, whether he intended it to be or not.

They were drawing eyes. Curious and concerned gazes lingered on them as Luke embraced him. As Aegon sunk into his nephew's comfort.

"A dragon toy then, for sure," Aegon struggled through, pulling away. Luke took his hand again and smiled up at him. He smiled back, wiping tears from his face.

Ridiculous. He was utterly ridiculous. Far too emotional.

"Rhaena stitched him a blanket with Caraxes and Syrax on it," Luke sighed, head falling back, "Her gift will be the best for sure, regardless of what the rest of us do."

"Likely the point," Aegon teased him, swinging their hands together, "Rhaena's the only one who won't be crossing swords with him in the yard when he's older. She's got to establish herself as the favorite before you all can steal him away with swords and arrows."

A grumble followed and Luke swayed beside him, "I can't even keep a sword in my hand. At this rate, Aegon will master it before I do and he's not even two!"

Snorting, Aegon yanked his nephew into his side. He wrapped his arm around Luke's shoulders and ruffled his hair, "Why do you think that is?" A blush rose on his nephew's cheeks as Aegon took in the shops around them.

They were headed down now. The northern slope of Visenya's Hill was more gradual and more artisans filled the Street of Steel on this side. Carpenters and fiber artists dotted in amongst the forges. A few of the smiths had jewelry in their displays, gemstones sparkling on delicate metalwork.

"Jace says I'm too timid in the yard," Luke breathed out, throat bobbing, "And Baela thinks I'm afraid of the blade."

Aegon hummed. That sounded right, to him. He'd watched enough, answered questions from Joffrey. He rubbed a hand down Luke's back.

"And what do you think nephew?"

"I just don't want to hurt anyone again," Luke whispered, fingers twisting in Aegon's doublet. He hiccupped.

With a soft nudge, Aegon prompted him to continue. His nephew whined, a wet and pathetic sound that was swiftly followed by a stumbling words spoken as quickly as Luke could manage.

"It was all instinct last time. I don't even remember deciding to pick up the knife, but then Aemond was screaming... and there was blood and Jace was yelling and..."

Luke trailed off. He sobbed, quietly, tucking his face in against Aegon's chest.

They kept walking. He paused at a shop with wooden toys in the window. Dragons. All different colors. A few different sizes.

"I don't like the way swords sound, when they hit one another," Aegon whispered as he rocked Luke lightly, swaying on his feet as he surveyed the toys.

One of them was blank. No colors painted on its scales. A little dragon waiting to be hatched.

Aegon hadn't know his youngest nephew's egg had hatched, so it was unlikely that anyone would have a dragon toy with the correct coloring. Even he didn't know what Stormcloud's scales looked like after all. Though he assumed the dragon was grey, given his name and the supposed resemblance to Seasmoke.

"Sometimes I even hear the swords when they're not there," Aegon admitted. His voice even, low, as Luke huddled against him, crying still.

"Is that what... what was happening? In Sunfyre's lair?" Luke asked, peaking out to look up at Aegon.

With a clipped nod, Aegon inhaled, "Not... not just that, but yeah." He ran his hand through Luke's hair. "You were defending your brother, even Aemond says as much."

Luke took a shuddering breath. His shoulders shook. His throat bobbed, "But-"

"One day, you'll probably have to defend him again. Or another brother." Aegon talked over him, gaze still focused on the unpainted dragon in the window. His nephew stiffened. "Just... just think about that, when you're in the yard, instead of the fear."

It worked well enough for him. How could anything ever compare to the fear of losing a brother? Of failing one?

They went into the shop. Aegon bought the small wooden dragon. When he said it was a gift for his nephew to make his own dragon, the woman who'd carved it had smiled and written out some simple instructions for how it ought to be painted so it would be safe for children.

He tucked both the toy and the instructions into the coin purse hidden beneath his doublet on a belt.

Cobbler's Square was rising on the horizon as they neared the bottom of the hill. Aegon considered stopping in to the leatherworker's shop to pick up the vambraces. A note had arrived at the Red Keep only a day or so ago from the craftsman.

His distraction was minimal. Aegon still had Luke's hand in his. He'd hardly let go of it at all the whole morning.

Yet he still missed it. Missed the hand darting out to grab his nephew.

Luke yelped as he was tugged away and Aegon's grip tightened. His head turned, eyes widening as he saw the man trying to take his nephew away from him. Fingers digging in to Luke's arm.

His heart raced. Anger ignited in the back of his mind. Sunfyre's and his own.

"Back off!" Aegon sprang forward, shoving the man away. They stumbled back and a blade was whipped out.

"We only want the bastard!" More hands appeared from the crowd around them and Aegon growled. He kicked at the first man's chest as he tugged off his cloak.

It arced up, drapping over the crowd as Aegon dragged Luke in the opposite direction. They ran and shouts followed them.

"Do not let go of me," Aegon instructed. He looked over his shoulder at Luke. His nephew nodded sharply, lip trembling as they pushed through the throngs of people on the street.

A fire burned in his chest. Sunfyre's roar echoed in his head, though he couldn't hear it.

The hand in his shook and another rose to Aegon's doublet as he drew his sword. A group of men stood at the end of the street, swords drawn as they spread out over the mouth of Cobbler's Square.

A quick look back verified that the ones from earlier had followed them. Were following them. Aegon exhaled and dropped Luke's hand. He tugged his nephew's cloak off, throwing it at one man as he rushed another.

Blood splattered across his face and screams filled the air, but Luke remained tight at his back as they fled into the square. With his free hand, Aegon pulled the dagger he'd just bought from his belt.

Luke cried out and Aegon spun. The dagger was quickly buried in a man's throat. He yanked it back. Blood sprayed out and Aegon shoved Luke behind him as he walked backwards. Placing himself directly in front of him, between his nephew and the closest threat.

They'd never make the Dragon Pit at this rate. His hands shook as he surveyed the square. Most people were fleeing. Some into the shops, others down the streets that branched off.

But that just made it more obvious how many were drawing closer. Smirks and sneers were aimed his way as Aegon reached an arm back towards Luke. The dagger in his hand shook as Luke clung to him, fingers gripping at the back of his doublet. Nails digging in to the fabric.

"Give us the prince, he's all we want!"

Luke. They wanted Luke.

They knew who his nephew was, but they hadn't recognized him. Another glance around them, head shaking, Aegon snarled.

He sunk into Sunfyre's boiling rage, letting it wrap around him, warm him. His very blood seemed to sing with it.

"Come!" The Valyrian cut through the air sharply. Several of the men paused. Aegon yelled again, "To me!"

A dragon's shriek filled the air now instead. Drowning out Aegon's voice as Sunfyre rose up from the Dragon Pit.

One of the men lunged for Luke, Aegon met his sword with his own. Immediately he kicked out. Aemond's dagger was thrust into the man's gut. Twisted.

"Come!" Aegon screamed in Valyrian and Sunfyre's roar echoed around him. He turned in a circle, panting. Sunfyre flew low, approaching quickly.

He didn't hesitate, eyes wild as he took in the swords - sheathed, unsheathed, blooded and not.

They were surrounded. Trapped. The faces blurred together. Too many for him to fight. Not with a sword.

"Dracarys!" Aegon commanded and Luke stiffened. His nephew huddled closer, face pressed to Aegon's back as golden flames rained down from above.

The screams were partnered with the familiar scent of burning flesh. Bile rose in his throat. Aegon pushed it down, chin rising as Sunfyre's wings beat above him.

His cap flew off, releasing the silver strands trapped beneath it. The wind caught it quickly. His hair was thin and it stuck to his face quickly, stuck in the blood on his cheek.

Sunfyre screeched, throwing his head back. He circled around them. Luke trembled, a soft whimper cut through the echoing screams in Aegon's head.

"Are you okay?" Aegon turned his head and Luke nodded. Dark eyes peeked out over his shoulder.

The flames were dancing across the ground, lingering upon the bodies as charred flesh cooked and bones crackled under the heat. They were alone now. Almost dead center of the scorched square.

Some of the buildings had been caught in the flames. People were rushing about, shouting and crying.

None tried to approach them.

A few of their attackers were fleeing. Swords were dropped, burnt arms held close and scorched cloaks abandoned.

"Sunfyre!" Aegon tilted his head back. His dragon ducked closer, wings beating quickly as he hovered above them. A long golden neck stretching down as Sunfyre lowered his head.

Under the constant torrent of wind, the remaining flames were extinguished. Sunfyre's nostrils flared. Aegon smirked.

His lips curled back as he gave his next command in Valyrian, "Hunt." Sunfyre growled, head rising as he took off. Flying low.

"Hunt?" Luke echoed him, voice quiet. Aegon nodded slowly. His eyes flicked around the square. Nose wrinkling.

"Some of them got away. Sunfyre will find them," Aegon explained. His throat bobbed as he inhaled. His lungs filled with smoke, his nostrils with rot. He shook.

Luke wrapped an arm around his waist. A soft sob slipped from his lips, "Can we go home now?"

Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah," he croaked out, voice cracking as he ducked his head.

Horses neighing brought his head right back up. His eyes snapping open, his sword rising, grip tight on the handle.

Goldcloaks. They brought their horses to the edge of the square, but the animals reared back at the lingering scent of dragon. At the evidence of Sunfyre's flames at their feet.

"Prince Aegon?" His uncle's voice floated over the square. Aegon found him quickly as Gwayne pulled his helmet from his head. Red hair fell onto his eyes, his wide eyes. Afraid.

His uncle was afraid of him.

A body dropped to the ground in the wide expanse between them. Sunfyre screeched as he flew off. Gwayne blinked.

"Have the bodies stripped and searched," Aegon ordered, swallowing back more bile as he met his uncle's gaze. "You can question the survivors." Gwayne's eyes flicked dowb to the bloody mess Sunfyre had dropped. "The rest go to the Dragon Pit, to Sunfyre."

He turned towards the Red Keep and started walking. Luke wrapped himself around Aegon's arm once more, barely sparring a glance for Gwayne.

The knights of the City Watch who'd arrived stepped aside to let them pass. Quickly. Pale faces and lingering glances were ignored.

"Escort them!" Gwayne snapped and four of the knights fell into a wide perimeter. Two in front, two behind.

All of them flinched when the next body fell, splattering across the cobbled steps of King's Landing's main road. Heads turned as they walked past the Street of Sisters.

The main square had never been so quiet in all of Aegon's memory. No boisterous lords bragging about their winnings from the latest horse race. No bards or minstrals playing outside the tavern doors.

Aegon kept his chin up and his eyes forward.

Another body dropped. Sunfyre snarled above them. Aegon kept going.

His feet knew the way.

"Your grace," guards bowed their heads at the gate as Aegon walked through with his nephew. The courtyard was as silent as the square had been.

Just as empty too, with dozens of eyes boring into his face. Servants. Courtiers. Guards. All of them looking at him. Judging him.

A soft hum filled the air. The tune a bit off-key and vaguely familiar as Aegon headed for the Great Hall.

Helaena sat at the top of the main steps, head bowed over an embroidery hoop as the doors sat open behind her. She did not look up. Her fingers twitched over the needle in her hand.

"You promised mother no mischief," Helaena called out as Aegon stopped a few paces from the bottom step. He looked up at his sister as a breeze dragged her hair from her shoulders.

Beside her, Rhaena's mouth fell open. The ladies with them paled. Baela dragged her sister up and shoved her towards the door, though it had little effect.

Rhaena remained, and Baela hovered beside her. They both faltered as their stepmother rushed through the door.

"Luke!" Rhaenyra shrieked. Her steps were quick on the steps despite her massive stomach. Daemon was just behind her, a hand steady on her back even as he glanced back towards his daughters.

Looks were exchanged and ignored in equal measure. The two young ladies standing sentry behind Helaena as she continued to sew.

His nephew's hands dropped as Luke took off running for his mother. He sobbed openly as he sunk into her arms at the base of the stairs. Luke spoke quickly, half blubbering as he stumbled over the events that had led to this, to Aegon standing before the Red Keep with blood smeared across his cheek.

"You took Luke into the city without a kingsguard?!" Rhaenyra hissed at him, holding Luke to her chest as she narrowed her eyes on Aegon.

His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at her. As her face twisted with rage and Daemon stalked closer. His vision blurred, the edges going black. Aegon braced himself for the hit, for the hand rising up to wrap around his throat.

"You're covered in blood," Daemon tilted his chin up, turning Aegon's head as he surveyed him. His eyes narrowed as Aegon's breath stuttered. "I don't see any cuts."

Eyes fluttering, Aegon blinked away his tears as Rhaenyra came back into focus. She'd wrapped herself around Luke, rocking him slowly as she buried her face in his dark curls.

"Aegon!" His mother's shout cut off abruptly when she saw him properly. Her eyes widened as Daemon stepped back. "A maester-"

"The blood isn't his," Helaena finally looked up. Her hand rose from her sewing to grab the sleeve of their mother's dress.

It startled her and the queen snapped to attention, spine going ramrod straight as she loomed above them all.

Standing before the wide open doors of the Red Keep. A beacon of light drapped in a bright green gown. Aegon focused on her, on the furrow of her brow and the pale skin of her cheeks.

"Clear the courtyard!" The queen ordered and guards all around them snapped to attention.

The servants were ushered to their duties. The courtiers escorted to their quarters or the mansions they kept in the city. In or out of the keep, it mattered very little, but they were not allowed to remain. Nor were they allowed to approach the main steps.

Guards with red cloaks quickly closed ranks around them in a wide circle. Aegon swallowed as his gaze flickered over the tight groupings that appeared.

No breaks in their chain. No openings.

He was trapped again. Surrounded. His shoulders shook and his fingers ached as he tightened his grip on his sword.

A body slammed into the ground at Aegon's feet. Rhaenyra jumped. His mother too. Daemon took a step back, eyes wide.

Sunfyre roared and Aegon glanced down at the man. A quiet moan escaped his lips.

"This one can be questioned," Aegon raised his sword to the man's chin, nudging it up. The man whimpered.

Head tilting, Aegon surveyed his inuries. His broken and twisted limps. The blood pooling around him. The man would not last long.

"Who sent you?" Aegon asked him, leaning over the man. No response came. Merely another groan as Aegon huffed. "Why were you after Prince Lucerys?"

Daemon stiffened beside him.

"If you don't answer, I have no reason to fetch a maester," Aegon told him. The man choked. Blood dribbled out from his mouth.

A single word escaped. Barely audible.

"Bastard."

Aegon's sword plunged into his throat. He was dead before Aegon twisted the blade and pulled it out, but blood sprayed out regardless.

"What in the Seven Hells are you doing?!" the king shouted from the doors. Aegon's head rose up.

Everyone was looking at him. His mother had paused halfway down the steps, eyes wide and mouth agap. Rhaenyra's face held the same expression as she held Luke's head to her chest.

A useless attempt to avert his nephew's gaze. Luke had already seen Aegon kill several men. Dozens even, with dragonfire.

At least two with the dagger in his left hand. Already the memory was growing foggy. All he could recall was the blood, the squelch of flesh giving beneath the blade.

"Following your orders," Aegon shrugged his shoulders as he met the king's narrowed gaze. He gestured towards the dead man with the point of his sword, "Cutting his tongue directly would've been too messy."

Eyes fluttered. Viserys pursed his lips and turned his head to his Hand. Otto stood beside the king. His grandfather was blinking at him, forehead wrinkling.

"Luke was attacked in the city," Rhaenyra raised her chin, body turning towards her father. Viserys frowned.

"Aegon was with him," his mother was quick to add, her own lips pursing as she clasped her hands in front of her stomach.

Rhaenyra inhaled sharply, "He was. Luke says he defended him quite fiercely." Her eyes flicked to him, gaze hard, "A defense that might not have been necessary, had you taken a proper escort at least, if not a kingsguard as you should have."

The queen huffed, "You cannot possibly be blaming my son for this?" Rhaenyra rolled her shoulders back at his mother's clipped tone.

Glares were leveled across the courtyard. Aegon stood between them, his heart hammering as his mother and his sister faced off. The king paled, already squeezing at his cane.

A throat cleared as his uncle came up beside him. Gwayne offered Daemon a bloodied bit of paper before bowing his head low.

"I don't believe even a kingsguard would have dissuaded the truly desperate from this attack, your grace," Gwayne pursed his lips as he looked to Rhaenyra.

Daemon was cursing already as he read the flier. The bounty. A list of persons for whom someone would pay handsomely for proof of their death.

~The Heirs of Corlys Velaryon~

His nephews and his cousins were all depicted. The drawings were accurate, the descriptions detailed. And the prices high.

The Strong Bastards and the Targaryen Whores it called them. Each one worth their weight in gold it seemed. The weight of their heads anyway, as that was the required proof.

An extra 10% was offered for Jace.

Sunfyre's next roar shook the windows of the Red Keep. Aegon lunged forward when the body fell, this one still breathing as well.

"Aegon!" Gwayne grabbed him, an arm wrapping around his chest as Aegon snarled. Other voices joined his. A chorus of shouts.

All Aegon could hear was screaming. A dragon's roar and the screams of the dead as golden flames engulfed them.

Sunfyre shrieked above them. No flames appeared as he briefly circled the Red Keep. Waiting. Listening for Aegon's command.

"Aegon!" His mother stood in front of him, glittering in gold and green. He inhaled sharply. Her eyes were trembling, tears collecting on her lashes as she remained a few paces away from him. Shaking.

Not approaching. But not retreating either, as Rhaenyra did now. She dragged Luke back up the stairs even as his nephew cried out for him.

Daemon held his arms, hissing as he narrowly avoided Aegon's reflexive stab with the shorter blade. "Alicent, you shouldn't-"

He dropped his sword. The dagger made a softer thunk as it hit the ground a moment later. Aegon inhaled slowly as he held his mother's gaze. Sunfyre broke away from the keep to soar over the city again.

She smiled weakly, "My son would never harm me, Prince Daemon." Gwayne huffed in his ear, hold still firm even as Aegon sagged against him.

Helaena was humming from atop the stairs. He tried to focus on it, like he had Jace's voice that morning. As he did his mother's face.

Another body dropped. Sunfyre shrieked.

"What is your beast doing?!" Otto snapped at him from beside the king, eyes on the mangled mess that was now dripping only a few steps down from their position by the doors.

"Hunting," Luke and Helaena both answered. One sniffling, one humming. The king sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose yet again.

Daemon chortled, lips curling back as Luke explained. He grinned up at the king, "A dragon as a blood hound, I'll have to try that some day."

"A blood hound cannot terrorize a city!" Otto gestured up at Sunfyre. He was circling the city, flying low as he scoured the streets for the scents that had lingered on Aegon. On the blood of those who'd threatened him.

It had worked in the Stepstones. Aegon had led Corlys to several of the pirates' better hidden bolt holes that way.

Sunfyre had caught one of their captains even. Snatching him right from his boat and dropping him at Aegon's feet back on Bloodstone the morning after a raid.

"He's protecting us," Aegon mumbled, squeezing at Gwayne's arm as he took a shuddering breath. His head fell forward. Bile rose in his throat.

"Protecting who?!" Otto scoffed, head shaking, "Both you and your nephew are safe now. I cannot say the same for the smallfolk of the city, can you?"

Aegon shook his head. His vision blurred again. He whimpered as the screams returned. Gwayne held him tighter as he asked for his mother, begging quietly.

"Every body that dropped outside the gate had one of the bounty fliers, your grace," Gwayne called out. He straightened as he addressed the king directly, "If you would give me leave to do so, the City Watch may be able to track them as well as Sunfyre, without the dramatics."

"I hardly think the Commander of the City Watch needs my leave to investigate an attack within the city walls," Viserys chuckled lightly, eyebrow arching as Gwayne stiffened.

Daemon clapped a hand on Gwayne's shoulder, "The Small Council voted unanimously just yesterday." He smirked and Aegon found himself dragged from one uncle's arms to another. "I'm sure the Hand would have informed you eventually."

Their voices were muffled. Aegon flinched as they argued back and forth. His grandfather's voice sharp. Rhaenyra's angry. The king hardly spoke, but the queen did.

"By Prince Lucerys' own account the only reason the two of them are alive is because of Aegon's quick thinking!"

"They're alive because Aegon can summon his dragon," Daemon's chest rumbled beneath him as Aegon swayed in his arms. His uncle held him tightly to his chest, grip firm at his bicep.

He whimpered as Sunfyre dropped another body. The sound of the man's groaning echoed in his ear, reverberating through his skull. Daemon's hold grew tighter as he cried, "Make it stop."

Shaking hands rose to his ears. Aegon gasped as his own slick fingers made contact with his skin.

Blood. He was covered in blood. Aegon stared at his palms, at the void of pale flesh where his hands had wrapped around the grips of each weapon. Red dribbled down his left hand, straight through the center of the void. Through his palm. The faint line of a healed cut.

"You cannot chain the dragons!" Rhaenyra hissed and Aegon's head snapped up. Her chin rose as she glared at Otto, "Dragons are the power of House Targaryen, to shackle our dragons is to shackle us."

"Not to mention that if Sunfyre had been shackled, we'd have two dead princes on our hands," Daemon sneered. Otto frowned, lips pursing tight as Daemon turned his gaze to the king, "This is just another reason why we ought to keep at least a couple of dragons at the keep, for emergencies just like this."

The king looked skyward as Sunfyre gave another window shaking roar. He circled the keep again, throwing his head back. Viserys dropped his chin and leveled his gaze on Aegon.

"Calm your beast, boy, the rest will wait," Viserys commanded and Aegon swallowed thickly. He stumbled from Daemon's grasp, inhaling deeply.

The world spun around him. Sunfyre's anger burned in his chest. His worry. Aegon pressed his hand to his sternum, wincing as he shivered.

"Sunfyre!" Aegon called for him, voice shaking as the cold rose up in his body again. A sharp pain in his arm and in his heart as he yelled, "Hold!"

None of the others would work. Sunfyre would sooner burn the keep itself than return to the Dragon Pit before he was assured of Aegon's safety.

And Aegon didn't think Sunfyre would consider his current state safe.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach flipped. His mother's dress was green. Always green.

"Hold!" His voice was steadier as he focused on the startling green blurring in his vision. Vibrant in its overwhelming presence. It grew larger as Sunfyre shrieked, landing atop one of the Red Keep's towers. Waiting.

"Aemond, take your brother to his room," his mother whispered and Aegon flinched as metal scraped across stone. A hand settled on his bicep.

Swallowing thickly, Aegon turned his head. Blue. The sapphire was bright and its color deep as it pulled him in.

"The dagger," Aegon mumbled and the hand on his arm dropped as Aemond stooped to grab the second blade.

"I haven't seen this one before," Aemond whispered as first the knife and then his sword were resheathed at his hip.

Aegon chuckled, breath hitching as Aemond guided him forward, up the stairs, "It's your nameday present."

His sister's humming grew louder and they paused at the top of the stairs. A hand ghosted over his shoulder and Aegon flinched. Aemond faltered beside him. Helaena went quiet.

"You did very well, boy," a voice whispered in his ear as the hand held him firmly. A kiss was pressed to his temple and Aegon hiccuped. Fingers grazed over his face. "Go clean up. You'll feel better, after."

Aemond pressed a hand to his back. A dull pressure that guided him through the castle. Aegon had no memory of the trip. Nothing but fuzzy stone and twisting hallways.

Twice his nightmare from the night before rose up in the back of his head and Aegon found himself shaking, eyes squeezing shut. He sobbed as the hand on his back moved.

"Fuck!" Aemond cursed as he crumpled to the ground. Aegon braced himself on his hands and knees. Footsteps echoed around him, thunderous as bile rose in his mouth.

He couldn't swallow it back. A clean chamber pot was slid beneath him quickly.

The fried fish didn't taste as good the second time. Aegon collapsed on the floor, gasping as he stared up at the ceiling.

A damp cloth wiped at his face and, slowly, the world began to shift back, to still, as his brother cleaned the blood from his skin. Aemond's expression was pinched, his nose wrinkling as he tugged Aegon's belt away.

"So, this is mine then?" Aemond held up the dagger, turning it in his hand. Aegon choked on his laughter. It broke into a sob as he nodded. His brother hummed, "It's good to know the blade is sharp."

He'd cleaned it, before he'd sheathed it. Aegon blinked as he watched his brother pull the blade free of its matching scabbard.

No blood remained. Even on the scabbard.

"Helaena gave me one of her handkerchiefs when I arrived," Aemond followed his gaze. His throat bobbed.

"Good," Aegon managed, taking a deep breath. He leaned his head back against the stone wall.

His room. He was in his room. Huddled against the wall beside the door. The window was closed. The hearth empty.

"I know I'll like at least one of my nameday gifts now," Aemond clicked his tongue, lips twitching up into a smirk as he set the blade aside. He reached for the clasps of Aegon's doublet.

"Am I cold?" Aegon asked as his brother stripped him.

He shuddered as hands pushed his doublet off his shoulders. The tender flesh on the left side gave a throb. Pain stabbed up his arm from his mark.

Aemond stilled as Aegon ducked his head. His voice shook and Aegon heard himself stammer, "I was warm, but... it hurts again." He squeezed his eyes shut, sobbing softly. "I can't tell, Aem, I can't-"

"You're warm," Aemond cupped his cheek, brow furrowing as Aegon cried. He curled over the chamber pot again and his brother pulled back.

His thigh ached. His shoulder throbbed. Aegon hung his head. He was right back where he started, curled up on his floor as pain wracked through his body.

"I'm not cold," Aegon told him himself, gulping down air as he tried to steady himself. His hands shook still. His breathing ragged.

But he could hear it, could hear his own breathing. Not screams. Not Sunfyre. Nothing too loud or muffled.

"What's... " Aemond bit his lip, rising to his feet. His hands fisted at his side, "I've never seen you like this before."

"I'm fine," Aegon forced a smile, grimacing as he gagged on his next breath. He retched. Body shaking.

"You're not fine," Aemond huffed, foot stomping, "Stop trying to protect me, just tell me what's happening!"

A throat cleared and Aegon winced. Aemond spun around. Their grandfather arched a brow as he stalked into the room, hands clasped behind his back.

"What's happening is your brother showing just how weak he is, again," Otto drawled. He looked pointedly at the porcelain pot filled with his sick. "A lady may become ill at the sight of blood, but not a man. Not one who is expected to lead."

They remained quiet. Aemond shifted back, stepping closer to Aegon as Otto walked deeper into the room. He paced the length of it.

With a heavy sigh, he snapped his feet together beside Aegon's head, "We can only be thankful your mother thought to clear the courtyard before you started weeping into Daemon's doublet like a child."

"Go see to Helaena, Aem," Aegon looked up at his brother through his lashes. His brother swallowed, head shaking slowly. Aegon's nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw, "She hates the sight of blood. Go check on her. Now."

"Ah, there we are, some proper leadership," Otto snorted as Aemond retreated. His steps reluctant and his gaze lingering on Aegon's face.

The door clicked shut behind him and Aegon swallowed back a sob as the Hand reached for him. As he was tossed deeper into the room, Aegon realized what he should have earlier. The moment he saw the bounty.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Aegon gasped out, crawling back. His feet scrapping across the floor as he looked up at the Hand. "You knew... you knew I was taking Luke into the city. Knew where we'd be..."

His grandfather had walked up on them just as they'd been discussing it the day before. As Aegon had agreed to sneak them out without a guard.

"Why would you-" Aegon's chest rose quickly, his breaths gasping, "You didn't need to." His back hit the side of his bed. He winced as his shoulder collided with the wooden frame. "I don't even want to be king."

Expression twisted, lips curling back, Otto snarled. A rather good impression of Daemon really, except for the beard.

The next hit was harder than the last.

Chapter Text

His grandfather stalked from his room after the lecture. Aegon well-reminded of his responsibilities. The importance of his position. Of his reputation at court.

With one hand gripped tightly on his bed, Aegon pulled himself to his feet. He groaned as he stumbled forward. Catching himself on his dresser, Aegon inhaled slowly, shoulders shaking as he hung his head. Tears trickled out and he sniffled.

It was stupid. He was stupid. Always crying, always too emotional. He needed to be calm. Stoic even, like Aemond or... or Lord Stark.

The Hand had said Cregan would've been a good ally. A strong ally, if Jace hadn't drawn him over to Rhaenyra's side.

His grandfather hadn't used that word though. No. He'd been far too angry to hold his tongue.

Seduced. That was the word he'd spat out in his fury.

No doubt the rumors would already be flying. The whispers quietly spreading through the court.

But Aegon was the one who'd spent the night before in his nephew's bed. Had begged for his touch. For his cock.

Stupid. He was stupid. Too short-sighted for his own good.

Jace wanted him. Jace would marry him. But that didn't fix anything. Not yet. Not till...

He raised a hand to his stomach, his palm ghosting over the fabric of his shirt. The king would have them marry immediately, if Aegon was pregnant with Jace's heir.

The king loved babies, and weddings, and feasts. He'd be happy. The divide would be over, the matter of succession simple.

Eyes fluttering open, Aegon stared at his stomach, at his hand shaking as it fisted in his stained shirt. It would work. It had to work.

He looked up, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. The red splotches on his face promised to be bruises soon. All along his cheek, the left side of his jaw, every inch mottled with red, bits of yellow.

"It has to work," Aegon bit at his lips as more tears raced down his face. He hiccupped. His grandfather was right.

Aegon was far too weak. He'd be a horrible king. Useless.

The only thing powerful about him was the golden dragon perched on the roof of his tower. And Sunfyre couldn't rule seven kingdoms for him, couldn't stop a war. He could only win it.

And winning would still be losing. Losing Jace. His nephews. His cousins. Nyra...

A knock sounded at his door and Ser Arryk called out to him, "Your grace? The queen wishes for you to come to her chambers as soon as you are... ready."

Aegon chuckled. His lip twitched up. Ready was not the word his mother would've used.

"I'll be cleaned up in just a moment," Aegon called back, straightening up. He hissed as one of the developing bruises on his side gave a particularly sharp throb.

The lecture had been quite thorough this time. No one but Aemond had seen him without the blood. Every mark that lingered on his skin could be blamed on the attackers.

On the attackers who'd been after Rhaenyra's son. His grandfather had emphasized that several times.

Whether saving Luke had been a good thing or a bad thing had changed with every sentence, every reprimand.

It proved he could fight, could defend those in his care. A proper warrior, a talented dragonrider.

But Luke was Rhaenyra's son. The heir to Driftmark. A continuation of her line which brought her considerable influence.

Stripping his shirt off, Aegon reached for his belt. The one he'd worn outside his doublet was already on the floor where his brother had left it. His sword still attached. Aemond's dagger beside them.

This one held his coin purse. A small fabric satchel that was wet to the touch. Aegon grimaced and dumped it out.

The golden coins were slick with blood. The little wooden dragon was no longer unpainted. The carved scales now stained an uneven and blotchy red.

Just like Aegon's face.

Aegon held it in his hands, thumb grazing over the texture of the toy's wing. It was an excellent likeness of a hatchling. The long neck reminded him of Sunfyre. His lithe body.

Other dragons had shorter necks with larger bodies. Built for battle, not flight. Or so Laenor had said, when Aegon had asked him as a child.

His face flashed in Aegon's mind. His twisted smile. The same one Jace wore when he was up to something. Mischief lighting up their eyes.

Joffrey had it too. Luke.

"You're Sunfyre's first rider. That means you'll grow together. What you want, what you need, Sunfyre will react, will become that. Just as you will for him."

If he needed, Sunfyre would be a war dragon. He'd been one, in fact, in the Stepstones. Even if Aegon did everything he could to avoid as much responsibility as possible on those stupid islands, he'd gone to war, and so had Sunfyre.

"I don't want your scales to be covered in blood," Aegon whispered to the tiny wooden dragon in his palms. Above him, waiting, Sunfyre screeched. The tower shook just slightly.

"Are you alright, your grace?" Ser Arryk's voice came through the door again. High and sharp. The door knob rattled and Aegon put his back to him as the kingsguard came in.

Setting the toy on his dresser, Aegon crossed to the basin of water on his table. A rag still hung over the side where Aemond had left it.

"Do you require assistance?" Ser Arryk offered. His gaze flicked towards the window, eyes narrowing as a flash of gold proved that Sunfyre had grown bored of sitting still.

"I'll manage," Aegon dragged the rag over his neck. Aemond had cleaned his face, but the cold water felt nice on his cheek regardless. He sighed, "I promise not to jump out the window, Ser Arryk. I'm too tired for that."

Exhausted would be a better word.

It was past midday, just barely, and the only food Aegon had eaten so far was now a puddle of sick in a chamber pot. His limbs felt heavy and his body ached, not just from his grandfather's discipline.

Sleep. Aegon wanted to sleep. To curl up in his bed and let himself cry like a child without anyone finding out. Without the Hand looming over him, huffing about the dangers and his precarious position.

He tugged at the laces of his breeches as he kicked off his shoes. He refused to look at his bed, to tempt himself.

Ser Arryk returned to the hall and Aegon finished cleaning himself up as best he could. A red tinge remained under his nails and in his hair, but it was good enough.

Maybe Aegon would humor his mother's worry and stay in her apartments for the evening, linger in the bath and whine until Aemond helped him wash his hair properly. Maybe he could even sleep in Aemond's room. He pulled on a simple shirt and trousers before reaching for his sword.

Swallowing thickly, Aegon took it in hand, fingers wrapping around the leather scabbard beneath the hilt. Inhaling slowly, he strapped the belt attached to it back on.

The dagger he left beside the red dragon on his dresser.

"Do you not want shoes, your grace?" Ser Arryk was quick to follow him as Aegon breezed past him. He tilted his head down and averted his gaze.

Any glimpse Ser Arryk got of his face was minimal. The knight followed behind him, mumbling about proper attire as Aegon descended the stairs in bare feet, wearing barely more than he wore to bed. Less actually, given Aegon usually fell asleep in his regular clothes when he bothered to wear any to bed at all.

Two Targaryen guards flanked the door to his mother's rooms. Aegon breezed past them as well, chin high. Their eyes fluttered, but they said nothing.

Everyone would assume the marks were from the attack. They would. Daemon might be suspicious. The kingsguard. But the court would take their cue from the queen. And so would the king.

So long as she saw him first. So long as he calmed her worry, headed it off.

In the receiving room, Helaena sat on a couch, muttering to herself. Humming intermittently and twitching. Aemond sat beside her, head bowed low.

"What are you saying?" Aemond hissed at her, whining as her face turned away from him. His brother looked up as he walked by them, but Aegon had already passed into the hall.

Aemond knew what his face had looked like before the lecture, had scrubbed most of the blood away himself. Aegon wouldn't be able to hide the truth from him. Never had been.

The Hand had never touched his brother. Aemond didn't need the discipline. Already perfectly ambitious and well-mannered. The perfect prince.

Polite when necessary, with a sharp wit and a strong exterior.

Nothing like Aegon.

He'd know to keep his mouth shut, to follow Aegon's lead. Throat bobbing, Aegon knocked on his mother's door.

A maid answered, startling at the sight of him. Aegon arched a brow, "The queen wanted to see me?"

"Aegon?" his mother's voice cracked on his name and Aegon pushed past the maid. Dismissing her even as she stammered out something about the queen needing a moment to prepare herself. Aegon stopped abruptly three steps past the door.

His mother was clutching a chamber pot as she doubled over, sitting on the edge of her bed. Spit lingered on her lips as she retched. Her breaths were shaky, gasping as she dry heaved. Her stomach as empty as Aegon's. More so even, considering her small breakfast

When her head rose up again, her eyes widened. Her grip faltered. Aegon darted forward, catching the porcelain container and keeping it steady on her lap as he knelt in front of her.

"Daemon said you were fine, that... that the blood was just-" his mother gaped at him. Her eyes flickered over his face as she cried. Trembling hands ghosted over his cheeks. "Gods, you look as if you've been beaten."

On his right side, her palm cupped his cheek. On his left, it dropped to his shoulder. Aegon remained on his knees. Holding the almost empty chamber pot as his mother surveyed him. His injuries.

"Are you ill?" Aegon cut off her train of thought as she furrowed her brows. Her lashes fluttered and her cheeks grew pink. He tilted his head, "You were sick this morning too, weren't you?"

"I have been... struggling to keep down food, yes," his mother spoke slowly. Carefully. His eyes narrowed. She turned her head, avoiding his gaze.

The queen was a terrible liar. His mother even more so, as she sat on her bed, dressing gown loose around her shoulders.

"I have... suspicions," Alicent turned her head back. She bit her lips. Aegon's eyes widened. He straightened and she squeezed her eyes shut, "I cannot disappoint him again. Viserys is always so happy when the maester tells him..."

The king loved babies. Every pregnancy a cause for celebration. From the very moment he was informed, it was all he cared about. The baby, not the queen.

"He grows so tired when I lose them, despondent," Alicent cried, ducking her head. She hiccuped, "I can't do that again. I can't..." She shook her head, hair falling into her face as she took a deep breath. "If I cannot give the king another heir, it is better if I... if no one knows."

"But what if..." Aegon swallowed thickly, staring forward, directly at her still flat stomach.

Her pregnancies were not so easy as she liked people to think. Aegon knew that. Even if he didn't know how exactly. He remembered when she'd had Daeron well enough. Her short lived pregnancies in the years after his youngest brother's birth.

Remembered how gaunt and tired she'd been. All the time she'd spent in bed.

"You need looking after," Aegon reminded her, eyes wide as he looked up at her. Her face was pale. Dark circles hidden beneath some odd cream he'd seen her use when he was small.

His mother sniffled and opened her eyes.

"Let me do the worrying," she told him, taking the chamber pot back in her hands as she stood. It was left on the table beside her wash basin as she wiped her mouth.

He stared after her, rising to his feet. Aegon bit his lip, "What about the healer from Mysaria's?" His mother stilled. "She wouldn't tell the king."

She turned, eyes fluttered.

Crossing the room with two steps, Aegon took her hands in his, squeezing lightly.

"We could say she was coming to see me," Aegon insisted as his mother pursed her lips. Her eyes snapped to the bruises forming on his face again.

A hand rose up to his cheek. Gentle fingers grazed his flesh. He hissed, grimacing as they traced around his eye. It wasn't swollen. His grandfather would never hinder his ability to defend himself. But it hurt just the same.

"If she comes, she is to see you first," his mother exhaled, hand dropping to her side. Aegon agreed quickly. He guided her back to the bed, tucking her in with trembling hands before he marched from the room.

"Ser Arryk!" Aegon shouted for the knight before he entered the main room. Heads turned to face him. Eyes widened comically large as he strolled in.

His kingsguard was not the only one waiting for him. Aemond actually paled, lips parting in a gasp as he stood beside Cole.

"My mother wants a maester to see me, to check my injuries aren't more serious," Aegon ignored the narrowing eyes of his mother's swornshield as he looked pointedly at Ser Arryk, "Fetch the healer from Mysaria's. Escort her here directly."

"The king has ordered the gates of the Red Keep closed until Prince Jacaerys returns," Cole informed him and Aegon blinked. His hands clasped behind his back, fingers twitching over his nails as Cole continued, "Ser Harrold and I just returned from escorting your nephew to the Dragon Pit. No one is to come or go until he returns from Driftmark."

Heartbeat stuttering, Aegon inhaled deeply. He held it, willing himself not to panic, not to scream. His blood was loud as it rushed through his veins. Echoing around him.

Jace was gone. Jace had gone out into the city. The bounty on him was highest. A whole mob had attacked them for Luke, two kingsguard was not enough-

Focus. He had to focus. His mother first. His mother and... and the baby.

"Ask Daemon how he snuck his whores in then, I don't care," Aegon drawled, waving a hand dismissively, "My mother says I cannot leave until she's been assured I'm healthy, so get the healer. Now."

He spun on his heels and headed back for her room. Aemond rushed to follow him, but Aegon ignored his harsh whisper just as he did Cole's shout.

The door of his mother's apartments gave a sharp snap as Ser Arryk departed. The one to her room echoed it as Aegon closed it in his brother's face with a hiss.

"I'm fine, Aem, go back to your lessons."

Aemond stormed off and Aegon heard the door of his bedchamber down the hall slam a moment later. Aegon blew out a breath.

It was fine. He'd talk to him later.

Fix it later.

Right now he had to be... decisive. Yes, like his grandfather wanted him to be. He had to take charge. Tackle problems.

Aegon could do that. Be responsible. Lead.

Behind him, his mother was retching again.

His brother could wait. Would wait. His mother could not, and she'd be quick to push aside his assistance if he gave her even an inch.

Opening the door again, Aegon called for the maid, asking her to bring something light from the kitchen for him to snack on while he waited.

"Nothing too sweet," Aegon reminded the maid. He disliked sweet things and they'd only make his mother's nauseau worse.

The queen glared at him as he turned back to face her. Aegon crossed his arms with a huff. She pursed her lips, "I am not the child here, Aegon."

"No, but you might be growing one," Aegon scoffed and stalked forward. He fluffed her pillows, fetching another from her bench to support her back. "And really, that's far worse."

She frowned at him. He clicked his tongue, eyebrow arching. His mother leaned forward to let him put the pillow behind her with a sigh.

The chamber pot was moved to the table beside her bed and then he spun around, searching for the pitcher of water he knew his mother would have. She took three sips from the goblet he held for her before tossing her head back.

"Sit with me," his mother patted the bed beside her eye as she took slow breaths, "I've humored your fretting, now humor mine."

Aegon climbed into the bed from the other side. He curled up, resting his head in her lap. Fingers combed through his hair.

"Are you keeping something from me?" It was the queen's voice. Quiet, but firm. A question, not an accusation.

"I keep lots of things from you," Aegon admitted in a whisper. Her hand paused.

He thought of Jace, of his trips to Mysaria's brothel, of the knights who'd kept him sane in the Stepstones.

The bruises on his face were nothing in comparison to that. To his... preferences.

"I'd hardly meet with a septon's approval, and there are things a mother shouldn't know about her son," Aegon told her instead of the truth, glancing up at her out of his periphery. His mother chuckled.

A smile graced her face as she shook her head. Small. Shy. But her amusement shown through. Her hand resumed it's slow petting. His mother hummed, "Your habits and interests are yours to share as you please."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut. He inhaled, turning his face into her lap. She was cold. A persistent chill against his warm body.

"Your wellbeing, however," the queen spoke again and Aegon stiffened, "that is a matter I will not allow you to hide from me." She turned his head.

Alicent Hightower had the dark eyes of her own mother. Soft features. Big eyes. Aegon often found her expressions staring back at him in a mirror. The same, but so entirely different with his Targaryen coloring.

The one looking down at him now was a stubborn determination. Her jaw was set. Her lips pursed. Tears collected on her lashes.

"You asked for me, in the courtyard today, when Gwayne found you in the city before," the queen spoke directly. Her words did not stutter or shake. She swallowed, "With Cole after you fled Rhaenyra's chambers."

A knock on the door saved him. His mother held her dressing gown closed as she called out for the maid to enter. A tray of food was placed beside Aegon on the bed. Cheeses. Crackers. Some cut vegetables and fruit.

His mother sighed as the maid left. She traced a finger down the side of his face. "I cannot help if I do not know what's wrong."

"It's... it's stupid," Aegon shook his head. He shuddered as he focused on the ceiling. A sob snuck out and he squeezed his eyes shut, "And I don't understand it." A hum preceded a hand grazing over his chest. Aegon turned, pressing his face to her stomach as he cried.

She held him without question. She didn't push. But she whispered in his ear. His mother pressed kisses to his head and told him he was safe. He'd heard her lie before, but they'd never sounded so true.

"I'm here," Alicent assured him, "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe." Another kiss. "No one will lay a hand on you ever again."

Aegon wanted so badly to believe her. He clung to her, shoulders shaking as he sobbed. But he knew the truth. He'd heard it from her own lips nearly every day since Aemond was born.

He was meant to be their protector. The eldest. The heir. The threat. It was Aegon who had to defend them. His brothers. Helaena. Even his mother.

They were his responsibility. The only duty he actually cared to keep. And he was failing.

"I'm sorry," Aegon squeezed his eyes shut as tears slid over his mouth. Salty on his lips. He trembled as she shushed him. He gasped out, repeating himself over and over again, as he curled around her, "I'm sorry."

The Hand said he needed to be stronger. Tougher. But Aegon couldn't stop weeping for almost an hour.

Just more evidence of how weak he really was.

Chapter Text

"And how many pregnancies have you had?"

Aegon froze as he stood behind his mother's dressing screen. His hands stilled on the ties of his shirt.

The healer had pronounced him 'not as bad as expected' and given him a balm for his bruises before he directed her to the queen. She'd arched a brow before shooing him behind the screen.

"I have birthed four children," Alicent told her. Her voice caught. A soft gasp.

Brow furrowing, Aegon glanced at the screen. He'd had no qualms about stripping in front of his mother to be examined, nor about giving her privacy for her own.

But he was curious. If he did convince Jace to have a baby soon, then Aegon would be the one carrying it. Submitting to exams like this.

"Yes, I am aware. Three sons and a daughter. Roughly two years between each, nearly three for the last two." The healer chuckled. "I know how many children you have. How many times have you had a babe quicken in your womb, girl?"

At least four other times, before this. So far as he knew anyway. Aegon dropped his hands to his side. His mother might have hidden more of them, like she'd intended to do with this one.

"I had a miscarriage between each child," his mother whispered. Her voice cast low, shaking, "Two between Aemond and Daeron."

Twelve then? Aegon frowned at his shoes. Was that normal? Nyra was pregnant a lot too. He didn't think she'd lost any, but... maybe women just didn't talk about it?

"And then... after Daeron I... there were several. Most were very short lived, a couple of months at best," his mother stumbled over her words, inhaling sharply, "This is the first in some time. In... years." She laughed, words coming quickly, half sobs, "The king shut down entirely, after I lost the last one. I hadn't even realized I was pregnant yet and-"

"Sh~" the healer's voice was soothing, "I understand, girl, it's alright. You're okay." His mother's cries stabbed at his chest and Aegon found his own breaths growing shallow.

A sinking feeling in his gut had him thinking of his mother's early letters when he first arrived at the Stepstones. Her letters had been shaky. Tears had stained a few spots, discolored the paper, smeared the ink.

"I would prefer to spare the king the grief of mourning another loss, if... if this is to be the same," Alicent forced out. The bed creaked and the healer hummed.

"You're a few months along. Two perhaps, given the strong heartbeat."

A hiccuping laugh traveled through the screen and Aegon smiled. His mother sighed, "That is good news."

The healer clicked her tongue, "Your first pregnancy, it was at six and ten yes?"

"I gave birth at six and ten, but I was about... six months in, I believe? when my nameday came that year."

Arms crossing, Aegon rubbed at his shoulder. The balm was warm on his aching joints, on the still twisted skin that he traced with his fingers through his shirt.

"Many women who have children at a younger age find it difficult to carry later pregnancies to term," the healer cleared her throat. Aegon bit his lip.

"I carried three more children to term just fine after Aegon," the queen snapped and Aegon scoffed. The room went quiet on the other side of the screen.

Still rubbing at his shoulder, Aegon tilted his head back, calling out, "I may not remember Helaena's birth, but I do remember Aemond's, mother." He took a breath. "And Daeron's."

The room stayed quiet. He peaked around the screen. His mother was sitting on the bed. Her hands were bunched up in the skirt of her dressing gown as she looked pointedly at the floor, cheeks burning.

"Those were not easy births," Aegon pursed his lips and stepped out from behind the screen.

"I was fine," the queen cleared her throat. She pulled her dressing gown tight around her waist and stood, "No birth is easy. That's just a lie maesters tell men to make them feel less guilty."

Aegon blinked. His brow furrowed. A memory flashed in his head. The same one he'd thought of just that morning, lying in Jace's, crying into his nephew's shoulder.

"You have to look out for him, Aegon." His mother's hand had barely grazed his cheek. Labored breathes were followed by a hiss, a grimace that broke into a sob. "You have to take care of your brother for me, okay? If I can't."

His throat bobbed and he narrowed his eyes on the queen's. She rolled her shoulders back as Aegon huffed, "You almost died." His arms flew out, gesturing wide as he stomped his foot, "And I know what the maesters said afterwards too!"

The queen crumbled. Her eyes widened and her face cracked, leaving just his mother behind. She hid her face in her hands and Aegon shrunk in on himself as she cried.

A petulant child. That's what he was. A child throwing a tantrum and making his mother cry. He ducked his head, avoiding the healer's gaze.

Aegon squeezed his eyes shut as his mother sat back down. She told the healer the truth. His birth had been hard. The labor short, but painful. Helaena's had been the opposite. Long and slow. She hadn't even needed any milk of the poppy by the end, so delusional from exhaustion she'd barely noticed she'd given birth until Helaena had been laid in her arms.

"Aemond came early. It was a difficult birth, the maesters had to turn him in the womb." His mother picked at her nails as she told the story. "I lost considerable blood and was feverish. I remember very little."

"It sounds as if your body reacts in quite a specific way to labor. You've mentioned fevers with each one." The healer offered his mother a cup of tea and her head snapped up, scowling. "For your nerves, nothing else."

"The maesters said it was dangerous, to try again," his mother sipped the tea. She nibbled at a cracker from the tray still sitting on the other side of her bed.

Aegon ducked back behind the screen as she talked about Daeron's birth. He scrubbed his hands over his face. The memories were not pleasant.

His baby brother had been larger than Aemond and only half as screechy at birth. He smiled and giggled soon after, tiny hands reaching up at Aegon from his cradle.

Those were the memories he preferred.

Aemond crawling into his lap, scowling down at Daeron to ask why he was so wrinkly. Helaena tugging on his sleeve to ask if she could hold him.

"Should you carry the babe to term, you ought to be prepared for..."

"You think I could carry it to term?" his mother's voice grew higher, lighter. Aegon winced. Hopeful. His mother was hopeful.

The instructions were simple enough. Phrased with much softer tones than any she'd ever given Aegon while he was injured.

Eat more. No wine. Rest often. She'd leveled her gaze on Aegon at the end, eyes narrowing on his bruises. But she didn't say anything.

"You ought to consider following my advice as well," she drawled as he escorted her out of the room. She clicked her tongue, nodding back towards his mother's door as they headed in to the receiving room, "Stress is her worst enemy. And you, boy, seem quite determined to provide your mother with more of it than you need to."

"A family trait I'm afraid," Daemon called out, chuckling as Aegon's head snapped around. "My grandmother said as much many times."

His uncle paused as he rose from the couch, brow furrowing as he surveyed Aegon. Face flushing, Aegon avoided his uncle's gaze as the healer clicked her tongue.

"It is unfortunate then, that the Good Queen Alysanne is not here to offer an apology to Queen Alicent," the healer wrinkled her nose as she looked Daemon up and down, "I am certain she would have a word or two for you as well."

Daemon coughed, eyes fluttering, "She had a few for me before she died, yes." He straightened up. A hand brushed down the front of his doublet. His eyes narrowed on Aegon, "Is my nephew well then? I understand his mother was quite concerned."

Hand waving dismissively, the healer gave a clipped nod, "As well as he ever is, I think." She squeezed Aegon's shoulder, "I shall return next week, to see how you're progressing."

"Thank you," Aegon dipped his head in a shallow bow as she headed for the door. Two guards followed her out, along with Daemon's gaze on her back.

"She needs to return?" Daemon arched a brow and turned his gaze on Aegon. He rolled his shoulders back. His left side throbbed, pulling a wince across his face. "I hadn't thought you injured at all, when I saw you earlier. Not... physically."

Aegon narrowed his eyes on him, nose wrinkling, "My mother worries. My life is much easier when she's regularly assured of my health." Daemon chuckled, hollow and dark. His gaze just the same.

Eyes swept over his face slowly, cataloging the marks, considering them. Daemon's jaw clenched. Aegon mirrored him, chin rising.

"Was there something else, uncle? I've been given rather strict orders to rest, so I don't have time for your-"

"I did not come simply to escort your healer, nephew," Daemon drawled, lips curling back. His jaw clicked and his nostrils flared, "Though convincing the king to allow her entrance was no small feat."

Biting his lip, Aegon swallowed, "Do you want me to thank you then?" He arched a brow and then bent over at the waist, arms spreading wide as he bowed. Low and dramatic. "You have my sincerest gratitude, uncle."

His mother cleared her throat as she appeared behind him, holding her dressing gown tightly closed. He popped back up and turned, taking half a step in front of her as she pursed her lips.

"Prince Daemon," the queen did not fully enter the room, hovering at the threshold, "To what do we owe your unexpected visit, your grace?"

"As ever... your son," Daemon crossed his arms, nose wrinkling. Aegon glared at him and his uncle rolled his shoulders back again, "Viserys asked that I escort Aegon to their dinner, after I brought him his healer."

Straightening, the queen's eyes swept over him and then immediately she was calling for a servant, rushing back into the hall. Aegon found himself tuning out her insistence that the servants locate a specific doublet for him.

"The king still wants to see me?" Aegon asked, swallowing back a sudden rush of bile. His voice croaked, "After... after earlier... with Sunfyre?"

Daemon nodded mutely, clasping his hands behind his back. A maid ran past them towards the door. His mother's voice rang out, calling for him.

His uncle took a seat back on the couch, legs crossing and arms rising to drape over the cushions. He smiled tightly, "I'll wait." Daemon's gaze flickered towards Cole, still stood sentry against the wall, "I can entertain myself."

"Aegon!" The queen yelled and he stepped back. Daemon's smile grew tighter as Aegon hesitated in the hall. Trembling as he stared at his uncle. Eventually, his mother came to fetch him properly, taking his hand and dragging him to the bath.

She fretted over his hair beside a servant and her lady's maid took a scrub brush to his fingernails. The queen had several maids. Her personal attendant changed nearly every year.

Whether the king or her father was responsible for that, Aegon wasn't sure, but the current servant was diligent and quiet, with sharp eyes. Her hand reached for the wrap tied around his wrist.

"Don't touch that," the queen clicked her tongue. Her fingers grazed over his cheek, "Retrieve the powder from my dresser. We might be able to soften some of the bruises."

They weren't. He was given a whole five minutes alone to dunk himself in the actual bath before he tied a fresh scrap of black fabric around his arm. And then the servants descended on him again. With clothes, and brushes, and a puff ball that was dabbed across his whole face even as he whined.

"A cream would cover them better," his mother bit her lip as she surveyed him after. He frowned. She cupped his cheek, the unbruised one, "You're... you're certain you don't want us to try?"

The powder had only made the bruises more obvious. His skin was more tanned than his mother's, from all his time flying. Aegon wiped the remnants off with a rag as his mother clasped a golden necklace over his doublet.

"I don't think the king will care that much," Aegon shrugged. He slipped his signet ring on and checked the sword on his hip. His mother hummed.

He smelled of one of her perfumes. Of her soap. The queen ran a hand down his arm before lacing their fingers together. "You'll return after the dinner? Tell me how it went?"

Aegon pressed a kiss to her cheek, "I'll stay here tonight." A smile split her face. She squeezed his hand.

"Thank you," his mother whispered as she walked with him back out to meet Daemon. He and Cole were openly glaring at one another, hands on the pommels of their swords until the queen cleared her throat.

"Ser Arryk is in the hall I assume?" Aegon asked, eyebrow arching as he looked to his mother's swornshield.

Cole rolled his shoulders back and nodded, "Yes, your grace." Aegon inclined his head forward and flashed his mother a quick smile.

"He'll escort me back after," Aegon raised their clasped hands up and kissed her knuckles, "I'll behave. I promise." Her lips twitched.

"My definition of behaved or yours?" his mother tilted her head. A soft laugh escaped her lips as he whined. He dropped his head forward to rest on her shoulder.

Fingers combed through his hair. Aegon took a deep breath. He squeezed the hand in his again as his chest tightened.

"You'll do fine," his mother's soft whisper vibrated against his ear, "I know he's the king, but he's your father too. This is good."

Aegon scoffed, eyes squeezing shut. He lingered a moment more. Not clinging. Not hiding. Just... just taking a moment. Breathing in the soft fragrance his mother wore. Lightly floral. The same one she'd dabbed at his neck and behind his ears.

"Suppose I shouldn't keep the king waiting too long," Aegon sighed and raised his head. He stepped away from his mother and she clasped her hands together.

Her heavy robe hung from her shoulders, obscuring her dressing gown entirely. In front of Daemon and Cole it was rather improper, but she did not move to duck back into her chambers. She kept her gaze on him, wide eyes focused intently on his face, right up till Daemon led him through the door.

Ser Arryk was waiting across the hall, gleaming in his armor and white cloak. He gave a sharp bow to both of them and startled when Aegon beckoned him to follow.

"I've promised my mother I'll keep you with me till I return to her apartments for bed," Aegon told the knight as he fell into step with his uncle.

"A relief to hear, your grace," Ser Arryk chuckled and Aegon squinted at him over his shoulder. Lips pursed, the man's short beard did little to hide the way his jaw was twitching. "It's not often I have such an assurance of your... cooperation."

Daemon didn't bother hiding his amusement like the knight did. He actively cackled, in fact, throwing his head back.

"Sunfyre will be disappointed, I'm sure, that you don't plan to jump out any windows tonight..." Daemon teased him with a sly grin on his face, watching Aegon out of the corner of his eye.

"I rarely plan such things, uncle," Aegon raised his chin as they passed into the main hallway. Their footsteps were loud in the silent corridor. "And I could always take Ser Arryk with me, if I did."

The knight's footsteps faltered. Daemon chuckled, turning to look back at Ser Arryk. "I don't believe I've ever seen a kingsguard match his cloak so well..."

Aegon merely hummed. His throat bobbed as they turned towards the king's rooms. His uncle's eyes flicked to him. The man was nearly facing him, body twisted. A hand rested on Dark Sister, as always.

"Are you truly well enough for this, nephew?" Daemon reached out, head ducking closer as he grabbed Aegon's arm. His left arm.

His mark throbbed. The bruises followed its example. Aegon hissed, yanking his arm away as Daemon startled, straightening up.

"Those bruises... they're not only on your face are they?" Daemon's lips curled back and his eyes darkened. An inky violet that reminded him of the Blackwater. Aegon inhaled sharply.

"I'm fine," Aegon kept walking, quickly. He held his arm to his chest. "It doesn't concern you." Daemon snarled and followed after him.

The quiet muttering about stubborn dragons and reckless princes that trailed behind him was entirely hysterical, considering their source. Aegon found himself smiling at it even, almost giggling. Daemon growled at his obvious amusement, "This is a serious matter, Aegon, you are a prince of the realm, you -"

"*You* put far too much stock in my title," Aegon rolled his eyes as they came upon Ser Harrold. The commander of the kingsguard stood outside the king's door, frowning. His eyes fluttered when Aegon stopped in front of him.

"It will be a moment, your grace," Ser Harrold's brow furrowed. His head tilted, "Are you well, my prince?"

"Ha!" Daemon squawked and Aegon groaned. He rubbed at his face. Nose wrinkling as his left side ached even when he avoided touching it directly.

Arms flying out, Aegon whirled around to glare at his uncle, "I said I'm fine!" Daemon bristled at his sharp tone. His voice rose higher, "It's just a few bruises!"

Ser Arryk cleared his throat and Daemon's mouth snapped shut before he could respond. Aegon's chest was heaving, his breathing loud in his ear as he turned back around.

"Your father is just finishing up with the Hand," Ser Harrold lowered his voice as he spoke and Aegon nodded slowly. He rubbed absently at his chest, shoulders hunching.

A hand settled on his back, grazing over his spine. Aegon inhaled sharply as Daemon pressed a kiss to the side of his head. His uncle spoke in Valyrian, voice soft and measured, almost humming, "My apologies nephew, I did not mean to upset you."

He was drawn in to his uncle's chest. Aegon bit his lip as he sunk into the light hold, as he leaned in to Daemon's soft touch. Fingers combed through his hair as Aegon fell into him. As Daemon rocked him. Again.

Daemon pet at his hair differently than his mother did. His fingers held fewer calluses, his palms more. He grazed his fingers over Aegon's scalp.

"I'm fine," Aegon whispered as he took another breath. His uncle merely hummed.

The door opened and Aegon sprang away, shoving a hand through his hair as he straightened up. His grandfather walked out. Daemon scowled and the two exchanged chilly greetings as Aegon stood stiffly a few steps away.

"I was not aware Prince Aegon needed two escorts," Otto drawled as he looked from Daemon to Ser Arryk.

The kingsguard stood sentry a few paces away, back against the wall. He gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, clipped as it was, to the Hand. Daemon was not nearly so respectful.

"Princes are getting attacked in our own damn city," Daemon sneered, arms crossing, "Escorting my nephew is the mildest of my impulses at the moment."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Otto snorted and his voice lowered as he bowed his head to Daemon, almost mocking, "Your grace."

A hand grazed his shoulder as his grandfather passed by. Aegon met his eyes, swallowing, "Is the king..."

He trailed off. How he'd originally meant to finish that sentence Aegon didn't know. Was the king in a good mood? Angry? Tired?

Did the king *actually* want to see him? Or was this one of Otto's schemes? A request from the queen that the king was entertaining.

"He is well," his grandfather smiled at him, squeezing his bruised bicep. Aegon hissed and the hand dropped quickly as Aegon ducked his head to hide a blush. His grandfather cleared his throat, "He is quite eager to speak with you."

Stomach dropping, Aegon inhaled sharply. Eager? The king? To speak with him? Why?

Visions of being reprimanded danced in his head. Green flames rising up around him. Blackfyre rising above him.

"Come, Aegon, I will walk you in," Daemon's voice cut through the panic rising in his chest. Aegon nodded mutely as his uncle circled around behind him. A hand against his back, a faint pressure.

His grandfather frowned as Aegon moved as directed, but he stepped back. Daemon guided him into the room, past Ser Harrold.

"No need to fear, my prince," the kingsguard flashed him a quick smile as he whispered, "The cooks are making that venison dish you like so much."

Aegon chuckled lightly, the air in his lungs still thin. He leaned back instinctively into Daemon's hand as they passed the threshold. The king was sat beside his model, fiddling with the placement of some figure. Daemon cleared his throat.

"Ah! Aegon!" Viserys looked up, smiling softly. He beckoned for him to come closer, "How are you feeling, my boy?"

Nauseous. Aegon swallowed, "Good, your grace." Daemon pushed him into a chair near to the king's. Aegon sat. Hands grabbing at his thighs. Palms sweaty.

Viserys shooed Daemon away after that. Actively waving a hand in his own brother's face, "Go, go, I do not need you to help me speak with my own son."

Looking over his shoulder, Aegon found himself tracking his uncle's movement. Daemon hovered, for a moment, lingering in the doorway.

Aegon didn't fully understand his desire for his uncle to stay. It baffled him, truly. Daemon didn't like him any more than the king did, was arguably a much bigger threat, given Dark Sister was strapped to his waist.

But at least Aegon knew how to talk with Daemon. Knew what to expect. Sass or a sword, the only two options really.

"Daemon! Out!" Viserys snapped and he left, Aegon turned his head back around. He met the king's eyes. His narrowing eyes. A hand rose up and Aegon flinched as fingers grazed over his cheek. "I think you and I may have different interpretations of the word 'good,' my boy."

Chapter Text

Dinner was quiet. Even more so than the short while they'd spent sitting beside the model of Old Valyria before the food had been brought in. Aegon had been able to simply ask what one of the figures was and the king would ramble on about whatever it was. Twice he'd gone on a tangent about the building methods of the Valyrians and how they used dragonfire to manipulate stone.

Obviously, his nephews had picked up that particular quirk from their Targaryen side.

The king could not ramble about his model at dinner though. Instead, Viserys kept looking up at him from his plate, opening his mouth, and then closing it as he dropped his gaze back to the food.

It was good food though. His mother had obviously ensured the cook made his actual favorite. A venison meal that had been concocted years earlier when he'd begged for something similar to a kabob he'd gotten in the Hook.

The spices were nearly identical. The meat fried in some sort of breading. It was served on a plate rather than a stick, with roasted vegetables instead of fried peppers, but it was close.

Aegon hummed as he took a bite, eyes closing briefly. Savoring the flavors. His tongue burned from the spices. His lips tingly. He smiled as he ducked his head closer to take another bite.

"Valyrians were once known for their love of spicy foods," the king finally spoke and Aegon opened his eyes to find the man smiling at him. "The region was home to several hot peppers apparently, only a few were planted in Volantis before the Doom. One in... Lys, I think it was."

"Do we... have them here then?" Aegon asked, head tilting. His eyes fluttered as he tried to recall if he'd ever seen any peppers growing in the castle gardens.

Maybe he'd ask Helaena where they were. She spent much more time there than him, tending a few of the more delicate plants herself. Aemond said she didn't trust the gardeners not to prune the good parts.

"No, I don't believe so," Viserys furrowed his brow. He pursed his lips and then laughed a moment later, "Perhaps we ought to change that. They might do well on Dragonstone, if nowhere else."

"Volcanic soil is rich in nutrients," Aegon parroted out something Helaena had said once. The king's smile grew.

Aegon preened under his gaze, bright eyes shimmering with approval. The king was pleased with him then. Happy.

"So," Aegon cleared his throat, fingers twitching over his fork as he forced himself to maintain eye contact, "Have you... given any more thought to, uh, Daeron visiting, your grace?"

Viserys chuckled and leaned back in his seat. He dabbed at his lip with a napkin.

"I have," Viserys inclined his head forward and Aegon straightened, leaning over his plate. The king tossed his napkin aside. "I think spring would be most appropriate. He's a young rider, it would be dangerous for him to fly alone during winter."

"I could fly with him," Aegon offered quickly. He set his fork down and dropped his hands into his lap as his throat bobbed, "He could fly back with me on Sunfyre even. I've never gotten to take him up with me before."

The king's eyes fluttered as Aegon stared at him, his own eyes wide and trembling. He was not above begging. Not for his brother.

Hands wringing beneath the table, Aegon bit his lip. "It's been six years." His voice cracked despite his best attempts to keep the words steady, firm.

Reason, not emotion. Facts, not anecdotes. That was what his grandfather said convinced people. What he needed to focus on. Needed to use to win favor.

A knock sounded on the door and Aegon turned his head as the king called out, "Enter!"

"Prince Jacaerys has returned, your grace," Ser Harrold announced and the king rose to his feet. "Vermax is landing in the dragon yard now."

"Have him brought straight here," Viserys ordered with a clipped nod. He sank back into his seat as Ser Harrold left. Aegon stood, hands behind his back. He expected a dismissal, but the king waved him back down. "Sit, we will continue our meal."

Sitting, Aegon reached for his fork again. They were quiet once more. The only sound the clicking of their utensils.

"I expect you will be as curious to hear about Driftmark's response as I am," Viserys chuckled lightly, but the skin around his eyes didn't crinkle as it did when he truly laughed. His next exhale was more like a heavy sigh than a breath.

Aegon reached for his goblet. It was full of a sweet wine from Essos. Watered down at that.

Still, it helped loosen the knot forming in the bottom of his stomach.

The king cleared his throat, leaning forward as he propped his elbows up on the table. Aegon looked at him. No smile greeted him. Nor a scowl.

An odd sort of frown, paired with a wrinkled brow and eyes that focused on the center of the table. Not on Aegon.

"We have not spoken recently, about your... future, with Jace," the king pursed his lips, cheeks flushing. Aegon dropped his fork and his father's eyes rose to meet his. "Little over a year now, until his sixteenth nameday."

"I... yes," Aegon swallowed thickly. His cheeks burned. His mouth opened, parting just slightly.

No words came out.

Folding his hands over his plate, the king straightened, "You were... concerned, as I recall, about Jace's reaction to your mark." An eyebrow arched, "Is that still the case?"

No. Well, yes. Jace didn't like the concept of soulmates, but he didn't think his nephew would dislike Aegon's being him. Ducking his head, Aegon exhaled, "No. I'm not worried about his reaction."

He didn't elaborate. The king sighed, head tilting, "Aegon-"

A knock sounded on the door again. Aegon's chest tightened, his heart raced.

His mark burned as Jace walked into the room with wind swept hair and cheeks red from flying. Aegon's face burned for a different reason now. He reached for his wine again.

"Your grace," Jace bowed to the king. His head turned towards Aegon. Their eyes met. Jace's widened just slightly as he took Aegon in. His jaw twitched, clenching tightly. But he said nothing.

"What did Rhaenys have to say?" Viserys asked immediately, drawing Jace's attention. The king had his hands fisted in front of him now. His expression pinched.

Rolling his shoulders back, Jace handed the king a scroll sealed with the mark of Rhaenys Targaryen.

"A ship will depart from Driftmark tomorrow morning with a full compliment of guards," Jace assured him, chin rising, "To support those from Dragonstone my mother already has in the city. They're to be used exclusively to protect my siblings and I, Baela and Rhaena included."

"Good," Viserys hummed and opened the letter. His eyes squeezed shut almost immediately, "Did she inform you who they would be answering to?"

Jace shrugged, "I assume my mother." The king shook his head. Jace scowled, "Not Daemon."

The letter was held out and Jace took it back. Viserys did not wait for him to read it, "They are under your command, as the eldest grandchild of Lord Corlys." Jace paled. "You will be responsible for the protection of your siblings until Lord Corlys arrives to make a full assessment of thr situation."

Throat bobbing, Jace read the letter quietly. His eyes fluttered and, almost as one, both the king and his nephew turned to look at him. Aegon stiffened in his seat.

As far as he knew, Aegon had done nothing that might earn him the ire of Princess Rhaenys. He arched a brow, "What? Am I in trouble?" The king laughed again, the hollow one.

"Far from it. She's offered to have you knighted, upon Corlys' return," Viserys informed him and the knot in Aegon's stomach tightened like a vice. Bile rose in his throat.

"Why?" Aegon gaped at him, reaching for his goblet again. He found it empty and whined, "I'm nothing like a knight."

A scoff from his nephew cut off the king's rebuke. Jace grinned at him, a vicious little quirk to it as his eyes darkened.

"Don't be so modest, uncle." Jace inclined his head in a low bow, "You promised to protect my brother as if he were your own. You did more than I ever would've expected of any knight."

Obviously, Jace had severely underestimated just how far Aegon was willing to go for his brothers. To be fair though, Aegon didn't know how far he would go either. He wasn't sure he had a limit.

Not for them. Not for his siblings.

"You ought to think on it," Viserys instructed him, gaze pointed, "It is no small thing, being knighted by the Lord of Driftmark."

As far as Aegon knew, the Sea Snake had only knighted two people. One of which had been his own son. The other a base born sailor who'd served on his ship. A man who'd saved Corlys' life and lived just long enough to be knighted before succumbing to his injuries.

There was nothing to think on. Aegon was no knight. And he certainly wasn't the sort of man Corlys knighted. No matter what Rhaenys said.

"Yes, your grace," Aegon ducked his head. The king clicked his tongue.

"Go, both of you, it's late, and it has been a long day for us all. Straight to bed with you," Viserys dismissed them with a wave of his hand, a slump of his shoulders.

Jace straightened, eyes fluttering, "I still need to return Vermax to the Pit, your grace." He glanced towards Aegon. "And Sunfyre is... well, I believe he is growing tired of waiting to check on Aegon."

Rising from his seat, Viserys shook his head, "Take your uncle to his beast. Both he and Vermax will remain in the dragon yard for now."

Head snapping up, Aegon startled to his feet, "They will?" The king nodded. "Sunfyre and Vermax?" Viserys smiled and nodded again. "Not Syrax and Caraxes?"

"I can only deal with so much of Daemon's gloating," his father snorted, chuckling properly as he shuffled away from the table, "And Syrax is nesting."

"Sunfyre's going to be so excited!" Aegon bounced on the balls of his feet, spinning in a small circle as he laughed. Jace rolled his eyes.

"Yes... I'm sure *Sunfyre* is just ecstatic," his nephew drawled.

Aegon squawked and took two steps to shove at his arm, "He will be!" Chin rising, Aegon smirked, "Unlike Vermax, who will probably be just as grumpy as he ever is."

"He is not grumpy!" Jace snapped. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. "Just because he doesn't *strut* around like you taught Sunfyre to do when he's happy-"

"I will have you know that strut is a Sunfyre original!" Aegon tugged on Jace's arm. His chest felt lighter. His breaths came easier. Jace scoffed.

A throat cleared and their attention snapped to Viserys. His father was watching them with a smile. He made a vague shooing gesture.

"You may continue your... discussion, on your way to the dragon yard." His eyebrows rose expectantly, his gaze focused on Aegon, "I trust you know better than to try sleeping with your dragon in your condition."

"He definitely doesn't," Jace huffed, arms crossing. His eyes narrowed on Aegon's face. "I'll make sure he sleeps in a proper bed, your grace."

Aegon rolled his shoulders back as he ignored his nephew, bowing to the king, "I promised my mother I'd sleep in her apartments tonight. Sunfyre will understand."

In his periphery, Aegon was positive he saw Jace's eyes darken and his lips quirk up. The room Aegon used in his mother's apartment had quite easy access to the secret passageways. He expected his nephew might be tempted to use them, to check he slept in a bed as he promised the king.

And perhaps a bit more than sleep, if Aegon could tempt him.

Jace didn't wait for Aegon to be in bed though. He barely waited for them to leave the king's chambers before pushing Aegon against a wall. He gave a quiet shout as his back hit the wall, "Jace!"

Not that Aegon was opposed to such manhandling, but he would prefer if it included Jace kissing him. Touching him. And not when they were in full view of both Ser Arryk and Ser Harrold.

"What're you doing?!" Aegon hissed as Jace tugged open his doublet. Hands shoved it aside and Jace dragged up his shirt with a snarl.

"How low do these go?" Jace demanded, glaring at the bruises along Aegon's side. Head falling back, Aegon whined. Jace growled, "I'm not above stripping you in this hallway, uncle."

Ser Harrold coughed. Jace ignored him. His eyes burned into Aegon's as he dropped his head back down. A flush rose over his body as Jace surveyed him. His heart rate picked up. His cock twitched.

"Part way down my thigh. Just on my left side." Aegon breathed out. Jace's jaw snapped shut. His lips curled back.

Inhaling sharply, Jace took a step back, dropping Aegon's shirt, leaving him against the wall. Aegon bit his lip to keep from whining again, from begging.

"Luke told me the whole story before I left," Jace crossed his arms. His stance wide. His shoulders back. Aegon bit his lip as Jace exhaled, nostrils flaring, "You got those bruises after the attack."

Both the kingsguards noticeably straightened. Aegon huffed. He ducked his head as he straightened his shirt. "There was a lot going on. And I kept Luke behind me as much as possible."

Neither of those was a lie.

Jace's low growl told him it was obvious they weren't true either. He looked up at Jace through his lashes.

His voice low, Aegon sighed, "Leave it, Jace."

His nephew fisted his hands at his side. Aegon met his molten gaze. The anger had turned to rage, his pupils shaking as their eyes met.

"Please."

With another snarl, Jace threw his arms wide. Two quick steps, pacing before him, and then Jace was stomping back in to Aegon's space. A hand grazed gently over his chest. Aegon gasped as Jace hissed, "Sunfyre isn't going to let you off as easily as me."

"Sunfyre already knows," Aegon chuckled, raising a hand up to cup Jace's cheek. He rubbed a thumb over Jace's tight jaw. "And he's not so tempermental as Vermax either."

"Vermax is not tempermental!" Jace wrinkled his nose as he stepped back again. He took a rather deep breath and then inclined his head towards the hallway.

His nephew let the matter drop. Aegon left his doublet open as they started for the dragon yard. Ser Arryk fell into step a few paces back.

Biting at his lip, Aegon knocked Jace's shoulder lightly, "Are you... are you comfortable, with commanding the knights your grandmother is sending?"

Jace's throat bobbed. If his jaw got any tighter Aegon thought it might snap.

A 'no' then, even if Jace didn't admit it.

Aegon rocked forward on the balls of his feet. His hands clasped behind his back, fingers twisting as hummed. "I think you'll do fine."

"Really?" Jace's head snapped to the side, eyes fluttering. Aegon nodded. He grinned at his nephew.

"You're already quite bossy, nephew," Aegon teased him. He longed to link their arms together, as he did when he walked with Luke. Or hold his hand, as he did with Joffrey.

But Jace was different than his brothers. Older. To touch him so casually would invite whispers. Whispers that were at least partially true now.

"And they will have but one job. You'll simply need to provide them guidance on how you wish it to be carried out," Aegon reminded him, inclining his head forward, "Your mother will help you."

"I don't understand why she didn't just give command to my mother," Jace huffed, head falling forward as they turned to walk through the Great Hall.

Aegon had never seen it truly empty. Their footsteps echoed loudly. Ser Arryk's armor creaking behind them.

"People will talk," Jace scowled at the floor, forehead creasing with anger that Aegon could see right through. "They'll think the Velaryons no longer support my mother."

A fact, truly, given what Luke had told him. The state of things between Rhaenys and Rhaenyra. Something much of the court had long suspected. Even before Aegon had gone to the Stepstones.

"She is entrusting them to you, because you're Luke's older brother and Luke is the heir," Aegon cleared his throat. His steps paused. "If he were older, she'd have given command to him."

They stood in the shadow of the Iron Throne. It rose up before them. A twisted and ugly thing really. With sharp edges and winding steps.

"You need experience leading too, before you take the throne," Aegon mumbled, staring up at the looming threat. At his father's seat.

Viserys had smiled at him. Had voiced concern for Aegon's well being.

The king seemed to actually care, about him. If only a little. If only for a moment.

Jace paused a few steps away from him. He followed Aegon's gaze, eyes widening, "That's years away. The king is well. My mother will be queen first. For a long while I'm sure."

Humming, Aegon pressed a hand to his sternum. He pushed down as his breath hitched, as his chest grew tight again

It was dangerous. Hope. Whether it belonged to his mother or to him. Hoping for a future happiness, for a peaceful outcome to all the chaos... it was the sweetest of temptations.

And it would hurt twice as much, when that hope was cruelly crushed beneath reality. If, maybe.

Aegon clung to it all the same. His head turned to meet Jace's wide eyes.

"Princess Rhaenys knows better than most that nothing is set in stone, least of all the order of succession," Aegon whispered, voice shaking. "You have to be prepared for any eventuality. Even if you don't like it."

Maybe especially if he didn't like it. Aegon certainly didn't want to sit the throne. He wanted Jace to be his king. But if his father died in the night, Aegon would have to make a choice.

And he knew what he would choose.

Even if his heart ached at the very thought. Even if his soulmark chilled, a stabbing pain rising up his arm.

He would save his siblings. His mother.

If he worked quick enough, he could get Aemond and Helaena to Vhagar. Send them to Essos with his mother while Aegon made a play for Daeron.

Even if he flew as fast as he could, it would take him hours to get to Oldtown. They'd have to go south in hopes of evading whoever Rhaenyra sent after them. Daemon, probably.

Rhaenys being upset with the other princess was his best bet. Meleys was the only dragon who could probably catch him. Though Aegon had never had a chance to test that.

It was a desperate plan. Dangerous.

And it would hinge on him getting word of the king's death before Rhaenyra. Of slipping from the castle before his grandfather could make his own play.

Dreamfyre would probably be left behind and his sister might never forgive him for that. But the alternative would be even worse.

If he wasn't quick enough, if he didn't get word before his grandfather... Aegon would have to fight.

"I understand," Jace sighed, eyes flicking towards the throne, towards his future seat. Shoulders sagged. Jace scrubbed a hand up his face.

He was nearly five and ten, but his nephew looked more like a boy than he had at nine. Shuffling his feet. Running a hand through his hair. Down his neck.

"My mother says I am to take my brothers to Driftmark immediately, if something happens, in the childbed."

The confession was so quiet Aegon barely heard it. His throat bobbed as he took half a step towards his nephew. Hand reaching out before he snatched it back.

"All of them. Luke, Joff, even little Aegon," Jace continued, lips trembling, "I'm to take them to Driftmark and then claim Dragonstone as quickly as possible. She... she left instructions for me, a letter, to present to the king. If necessary."

"Rhaenyra is aware of the... political climate," Aegon swallowed, hands fisting at his side. He knew she was. She had to be, the way his grandfather operated, the way he talked.

If Rhaenyra wasn't aware of the rumors, she'd be a fool. Doubly so if she was not prepared to fight them.

And Aegon did not think the Princess of Dragonstone was a fool.

Rhaenyra had been manuevering since his birth, gathering supporters. Solidifying her claim. She'd been raised in this court, same as him. Expecting to be queen for half her life at this point.

Her marriage to Laenor had been evidence of her aptitude for it, to some degree. A political match, unlike her marriage to Daemon. Though, that had its own advantages for her.

"There will be some that... that may call for your brother to be named heir," Aegon forced out and Jace's jaw twitched. "Daemon's son."

"Or you," Jace murmured, eyes flicking up. Aegon stilled. His nephew raised his head, "There's two princes named Aegon. Neither of them the heir, though there are some that say you should be."

The silence became deafening. Loud in Aegon's ear as he took his next breath, a shuddering gasp. Panic was rising again, his heart pounding. His lungs struggled to take in air.

"I don't want it," Aegon told him. He'd said the words a hundred times. Maybe more. But no one had ever listened. No one had ever cared. "I don't want to be king."

"I know," Jace cupped his cheek. Aegon's breath stuttered as Jace held his face, as his eyes stared into Aegon's. Gaze firm. Hard.

Very few torches were lit. Jace's eyes did not shine golden like Sunfyre's scales. Instead they were a deep brown. Nearly black. As solid as stone as Aegon's hands scrambled over his shoulders, gripping tightly at his blue cloak.

"I know what you want, uncle," Jace tucked his hair behind his ear, smiling faintly as he laughed, "You've wanted the same thing since we were children." Aegon pressed their foreheads together. "You just want to fly. It's all you've ever wanted."

"Sometimes..." Aegon whispered, voice cracking as he blinked back tears, "Sometimes I want other things." He laughed wetly, knuckles going white.

Jace hummed. A smirk twitched at his lips as an arm wrapped around his waist. Aegon sunk into his hold and Jace pressed a kiss to his ear as he whispered, "Let's get you to Sunfyre, uncle."

Chapter Text

Ser Arryk was barely an afterthought as Jace whisked him out to the dragon yard. The kingsguard was left to linger by the doors as they rushed out, laughter on their lips as they approached Vermax. The grumpy beast was laid out across the ground, wings tucked in and tail dragging through the layers of snow and mud behind him. His relative calm was not reflected in his rider.

"You smell good," Jace huffed out, yanking off Aegon's belt. He tossed it and the sword to the ground. Aegon giggled as he was pressed into green scales. Jace silenced him with a kiss. His next breath caught in his throat as Jace licked into his mouth.

He moaned as Jace slipped a hand between them. Fingers grazed over his chest the moment Jace tugged open his shirt. Aegon shivered as the cold air whipped around them.

"Fuck!" Jace cursed as he buried his other hand in Aegon's hair. He was staring at the bruises again, chest heaving and lips curling back.

Vermax growled, his body rumbling beneath Aegon's back. Heat rose around them. Steam filling the air as Aegon gasped. His back was slick with sweat. His cock hard in his breeches as Jace hovered over him. Aegon moaned again, head falling back.

"Kiss me," Aegon tugged at Jace's riding leathers, pulling him against his own body, between his legs as he spread them wide. "I don't feel them when you touch me."

A lie. But the pain morphed to pleasure as the pressure against him increased. As the lips against his were joined by scrapping teeth and a probing tongue.

"This is what you've always wanted, isn't it, nephew?" Aegon teased him as Jace ducked his head down to kiss softly at Aegon's throat. His nephew nosed at one of the spots his mother had dabbed her perfume early and Aegon smirked, "Me, trapped between you and Vermax, hmm? Is it as good as you imagined?"

The cock against his thigh twitched and Jace sucked his own mark into Aegon's jaw, right below his ear. Aegon gasped, eyes fluttering closed. He clung to Jace as fingers tugged at the laces of his breeches.

"Naked on your dragon, just for you," Aegon mumbled as his bottoms were tugged down. His small clothes with them.

Jace grabbed at his right hip, fingers digging in as he kissed Aegon again. Hard. Devouring him. Aegon wrapped his arms around Jace's neck as his nephew's teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

Warm leather pressed against his cock as Jace lifted him up, bracing him on Vermax's back. He cried out, head thrashing as his ass slid against rough scales.

"Jace~" Aegon begged and his nephew whimpered. The next kiss was chaste. Quick and shallow before Jace dropped to his knees.

"You're beautiful," Jace breathed out as he mouthed at Aegon's inner thigh. He looked up at Aegon. Eyes dark, lips red. Jace arched a brow, breath hot as he hovered over Aegon's cock, "Can I?"

Nodding sharply, Aegon brought one hand up to his lips as Jace hooked one of Aegon's legs over his shoulder. In the next moment, his cock was enveloped in a warm, wet heat as Jace took him into his mouth. Aegon muffled himself, biting into his hand.

Aegon suspected Ser Arryk still heard him. Still knew exactly what Aegon was allowing his nephew to do. But he couldn't find it in him to care as Jace's tongue moved over his cock. As plump lips moved up and down his shaft.

Whores had sucked him off before, but none had felt this good. Aegon's body was boiling. His head hazy with want, mind spiraling as Vermax's heat sunk into him from below, growing hotter with every breath from the dragon.

And then there was Jace's mouth. His hands gliding over his thighs. Gentle touchs. Fingers grazing over his flesh as Aegon writhed. His free hand fisted in Jace's curls.

Jace yanked on Aegon's arm, ripping the hand from Aegon's mouth as Jace moaned. The vibration was coupled with a hard suck and Aegon's pleasure came crashing down around him. He screamed as his vision went white. Jace's name on his lips as his nephew swallowed around him.

Half his clothes lay in a pile on the ground. Aegon glanced down at them as Jace rose back up a moment later. Jace tugged his cloak off, tossing it over Vermax's scales beside him. Aegon's shirt and doublet quickly joined his abandoned breeches as Jace turned him over.

"Are you going to fuck me?" Aegon asked, smile tugging at his cheeks as he nuzzled at the soft lining of Jace's cloak. His nephew chuckled darkly. A kiss was pressed to his bare shoulder.

"Soon," Jace promised, voice raw. "Not yet." More kisses followed. Soft and lingering, all over his neck, his back. Aegon was already panting when Jace pressed his cock between Aegon's cheeks. "This will do tonight."

Aegon whined, raising his hips up. He wiggled his ass, "I want your cock, nephew, please." Jace nipped at his ear.

"You're hurt," Jace reasoned, breath hitching, "And I told you, I... I don't want to risk a bastard."

"I want your bastard," Aegon huffed, hands curling into Jace's cloak. His nephew rocked against him, cock twitching. "I'll give you an heir or a bastard, whichever. Let the king decide once your seed takes root."

He knew what the king would do. A quick wedding, maybe a lecture, a proper reprimand. But then Aegon would spend the rest of his life in Jace's bed and no one would ask him to wear a crown until Jace made him his queen.

"I asked my grandmother," Jace breathed out, hips pulling back, "About what the king said." He thrust his hips forward, cock pushing between Aegon's thighs as he sought out his pleasure. "She said... she said there were lots of unconventional ways for Valyrians to have children. For dragonriders to tap into the magic of their blood."

"Yeah?" Aegon gasped. He pressed his face to Vermax's scales through the thick fabric of his nephew's cloak. He held his legs together as Jace drove his cock through the sweat slick flesh at a steady pace. His own cock stirring as the tip grazed the underside of his balls.

Jace groaned, hand squeezing at Aegon's ass. His voice was thick as he spoke, "Yeah. She gave me a book. It's... the Valyrian is archaic, but... I can read it." His breaths grew ragged as his pace increased. Aegon raised his hips again, meeting each thrust, ass grinding back against Jace.

He wanted more, wanted his nephew inside of him. Aegon had never felt this empty in his life. A hollow ache inside him even as his body shuddered with a slowly building pleasure.

This was... this was good. This was enough for him. For now. Aegon whined, mouth hanging open as Jace took his pleasure from Aegon's body. It felt good.

The kissing continued. Lips sliding over his skin, overwarm despite the chilly air. It was starting to snow. The sun long set. But Aegon was consumed by heat. A dragon's warmth all around him. Spilling out from his own body.

"I'll know soon, how it could..." Jace groaned and a hand slipped around him. Jace nipped at Aegon's ear. His nephew palmed at his abdomen. "I'll know how to put a babe in you soon. How to avoid it too."

"Don't avoid it," Aegon breathed out. His voice slurred. He was hard again. Desperate. Tears leaking out, sliding down his face as he babbled, "I want it. I swear, please, Jace, I-" Lips pressed to his cheeks. Aegon sobbed. "Need to have your baby."

His nephew stilled, his cock spasming as he climaxed. Aegon felt the cool spray of cum across his thighs. Jace was panting against his neck. A hand slid through his hair.

"I'll put a babe in you on our wedding night," Jace kissed his cheek and Aegon shuddered. The hand on his stomach fell to his cock. "I promise. I'll give you a baby, Egg."

Calloused fingers barely managed to wrap around his shaft before he was crying out again, his own spend painting his thighs and Jace's cloak.

Jace held him as his body went limp. As solid and warm as the dragon beneath him. He whispered in his ear, telling Aegon how beautiful he was, how amazing. Strong. Brave.

"You'll be gorgeous, belly swollen with my child," Jace hummed as he kissed down Aegon's throat. Smiling, Aegon imagined it in his head as Jace rambled about the baby they might have.

All the while, Jace's hand massaged at his abdomen. Aegon let himself float there in the moment. All of his senses drowning in Jace, in his touch, his words.

"A little boy, maybe?" Jace mouthed at his jawline, "Cute, like Joffrey, but with your eyes, your smile. So sweet when he's bundled in your arms, but a little dragon for everyone else."

"Just like you," Aegon breathed, head falling back against Jace's shoulder. Lips pressed to his bobbing throat.

The picture in his head was so clear. So real. Aegon shivered as Jace's hand rose up to his chest. Fingers grazed over his nipples. His hips rolled back. Jace chuckled.

"I want it to be real," Aegon begged and his hands fell from Vermax to his rider, grabbing at Jace's thighs. His head spun.

The future he wanted fell away. Fire rose up as his breaths grew ragged. His mind filled with smoke and ash.

Sunfyre gave a shriek above them, circling the dragon yard as Aegon came down from the ectasy fast, body trembling in Jace's arms. He closed his eyes. Jace peppered his face with kisses and Vermax gave a low purr, his body vibrating beneath Aegon's.

"Stay here, Egg," Jace ordered, voice a low drag in Aegon's ear, a syrup dripping over his muffled senses. "You're with me, with Vermax. No one else is going to touch you with us here."

Fingers grazed over his chest, tracing the bruises on his left side. Lips did the same at his shoulder. Undeterred by the twisted flesh of his scar. Aegon shuddered.

"I'll burn them myself," Jace growled, crowding him against Vermax, "Rip them apart for Vermax and Sunfyre to fight over the scraps." Aegon bowed his head as he inhaled slowly. His cock hardening as Jace growled, "Tell me who did it and I'll destroy them for you."

"No," Aegon hiccupped, shaking his head. The king might forgive Jace. Might not punish him for killing the Hand. But that wouldn't save Daeron.

It was too much of a risk. Too dangerous.

He wasn't worth it. A few bruises was nothing. His brothers were everything. Jace.

"Kiss me some more," Aegon turned his head to catch Jace's eye. His back was pressed into Vermax again. The soft cloak kept his skin from ripping on the scales as Jace devoured him anew.

Aegon found himself bouncing over Jace's cock, grinding against the warm length, as Sunfyre landed beside Vermax. He met his dragon's gaze as he clung to his nephew, chasing another orgasm he didn't need to avoid all the emotions swirling inside him.

Nostrils flaring, Sunfyre curled into a half circle beside Vermax. A golden mirror to the green beast.

They were completely encircled by dragons. No one could see them. No one could come close enough to investigate Aegon's cries of pleasure.

Sunfyre wouldn't let anyone disturb them. Wouldn't let anyone too close.

Losing himself in the sensations, Aegon wasn't sure how long they stayed with the dragons. Wasn't sure how many orgasms Jace wrung from his body.

"You need to rest," Jace gasped against his cheek, his own face flushed a brilliant red and his pupils blown wide. He choked as Aegon dropped his head to mouth at his chest.

His nephew's shirt and doublet had been ripped open at some point. He couldn't remember which of them had done it. Aegon slid a hand down the exposed flesh regardless, slipping his palm around the cock rocking against him. Half hard and throbbing as he pumped it.

Jace whimpered, head falling back, "I have to go see my mother after this, Egg."

"You're already a mess," Aegon told him, giggling as he looked between them. He pressed a kiss to Jace's lips, "You'd be half as messy if you'd fucked my ass instead, pumped all of your seed inside my body where it's meant to be."

"You're obsessed," Jace chuckled, gasping as Aegon flicked his thumb over the slit. He licked his lips as precum bubbled out.

A hand rose up to stop him as Aegon started to sink to the ground. He was pressed firmly back into Vermax and Jace took a step back.

"I'm serious, Egg," Jace swallowed thickly, chest heaving as he took a deep breath, "I could... I could fuck you all night." Aegon moaned and his legs spread wide again. Jace choked, "But you need to rest. You're... you're hurt."

"I told you," Aegon whined, head lulling to the side, "I don't feel it when you're touching me." Jace groaned and his hand rose up to scrub at his face.

Aegon's pleas had no effect though. Jace didn't step back between his legs. He stood just out of arm's reach, taking measured breaths.

Pouting, Aegon sunk into Vermax as Jace straightened out his breeches and his shirt. When he closed his doublet, Jace looked almost put together again. Tossled hair and bruised lips aside. Lips puckering, Aegon whimpered. He fluttered his lashes.

It had no effect either. Jace gulped, stumbling away. He raised a finger, wagging it at Aegon, "Wait here." He ducked out, slipping away from their little nest with quick steps.

Sunfyre drew closer as Jace walked away. Aegon was left sprawled out on the side of his nephew's dragon. His feet didn't touch the ground and they rose slightly higher for a moment each time Vermax took a breath.

"I'm fine," Aegon assured his own dragon as the golden beast sniffed at him. He was nudged slightly on his left side and Aegon cried out. Sunfyre growled. "It'll heal." Lips curled back. Aegon raised a hand to pat at Sunfyre's maw.

His dragon was no more open to his charms than Jace had been though. Less even. Aegon had no choice put to submit to a full inspection as Sunfyre grew more restless. More annoyed.

A familiar anger was bubbling beneath Aegon's skin, but he shoved it down. "You've eaten more than enough men today I think, you silly beast." Sunfyre growled.

"I told you he wouldn't let you off as easily as I did," Jace drawled as he returned. Sunfyre drew back with a huff and Jace pressed a cold rag to Aegon's body.

His skin was red, so hot he thought it might be burning. The cold was oddly welcome and Aegon moaned as Jace cleaned him up. "I'd say I got off plenty..."

Jace snorted. A kiss was pressed to his cheek. His nephew dressed him and Aegon let himself hang limply against him, pressing his cheek to Jace's shoulder as his laces were tied, his doublet snapped closed.

It was only once Jace secured his belt and Aegon felt the weight of his sword hanging from his body that he raised his head. He wrapped his arms around Jace's neck and pressed his nose into his throat.

"I don't want to go to bed without you," Aegon inhaled deeply. Jace smelled heavily of dragon. Of sweat and the sweet tangy scent of ectasy that Aegon usually associated most with brothels.

But if he were at a brothel, Aegon would have no qualms about falling asleep and waking alone. He likely would've let himself drift off after the second orgasm. Maybe the third. Usually, he only needed the one to calm his racing mind when he stayed at Mysaria's.

"I want to stay with you," Aegon admitted, shuddering as Jace rocked him in his arms. Hands grazed over his back, through his hair, "I want to wake up in your arms again."

"I'll come to your room," Jace whispered, arms growing tight around Aegon's body, "Once I speak with my mother, I'll sneak in to lay with you."

Sunfyre nudged at his side and Aegon looked up at his dragon. His worry spiking in the back of his mind as Aegon sniffled. He hooked his chin over Jace's shoulder and smiled at his dragon.

The worry did not abate. Not anymore than the anxiety now rising in his chest.

He'd said far more than he meant to, laid out on Vermax, the heat clouding his judgement. Jace didn't seem to notice. His own head just as hazy.

Or maybe he'd chosen not to push it. Not yet.

"Can we go flying in the morning?" Aegon asked, eyes falling closed as he took another breath. He stepped back, straightening up.

"Yes," Jace smiled brightly as Aegon opened his eyes. He tilted his head, gaze flicking over Aegon. "Before court? With Aemond?" he offered.

Aegon nodded and they left the dragons in the yard. Jace folded his cloak over his arm strategically. Neither of them commented as Vermax and Sunfyre curled closer after they left, not quite coiling together. But close.

"Sleep well, uncle," Jace flashed a quick smile at him as they reached the door to Rhaenyra's apartments. It was yanked open before Jace could grab the handle.

The knights on either side snapped to attention as Rhaenyra appeared in the doorway, "Jace! Where have you been?! Vermax returned hours ago!"

His nephew shrugged, "The king wished to see me first, and I promised to make sure Egg didn't sleep with Sunfyre in the dragon yard."

Rhaenyra's eyes flicked to him and Aegon flushed. He coughed, turning his head. Hands clasped behind his back, Aegon rocked backwards onto his heels as his sister huffed.

"Inside, now, both of you," Rhaenyra stepped back, waving them into the receiving room. Her eyes narrowed when Aegon hesitated. "Now, Egg."

"Yes, Nyra," Aegon mumbled, ducking his head as he slunk past her. Jace handed her the letter from his grandmother before she could say anything else.

Her eyes fluttered and her jaw clenched, but she said nothing as she read it. Rhaenyra paced the length of her receiving room as the two of them stood beside the couch. Jace didn't fidget, but Aegon did.

The panic was rising again. Unbidden and unwanted. Aegon swallowed back bile as he struggled to focus on Rhaenyra. On the consistent clicking of her footsteps in her dimmly lit room.

"Ser Arryk," Rhaenyra called out to the knight standing beside the door. Her head rose up, "How many guards does my brother have?"

"The queen has a-"

Rhaenyra raised her hand and he stopped. She clicked her tongue, "Not the queen, Prince Aegon. You're his kingsguard, you should be in charge of his personal guard, yes?"

Ser Arryk blinked and Aegon shuffled his feet properly. Rhaenyra looked from the knight to him. He avoided her eyes, cheeks burning. Jace turned his head, squinting at him, "I've only ever seen Ser Arryk with you, if anyone."

"No wonder you can slip out of the castle without protection," Rhaenyra seethed, hands flying up. She pinched the bridge of her nose, nostrils flaring.

Shoulders hunching, Aegon tried to defend himself, "I don't need a personal guar-"

His mouth snapped shut as Rhaenyra raised her head, already scowling. She crossed her arms, "I have already spoken with Luke, at length, about how dangerous it was for the two of you to go into the city without a kingsguard. Without any guards!"

She paused, inhaling deeply. One hand rubbed at her temple and the other fell to her stomach. Aegon's gaze followed her hand. He found himself staring at it. Her pregnant belly.

The round bump protruding quite far, more obvious than ever with her in just a dressing gown and a thin robe. Larger than he'd ever seen her before. Larger than his mother had been with Daeron.

"I hope I do not have to repeat myself with you?" Rhaenyra arched a brow as she looked at Aegon, lips pursed tight, "You are old enough to know better than this, Egg." He nodded mutely at his name, unable to truly hear the words over the screaming in his head.

It sounded more like his mother than a battlefield. He paled, breathing slowly. Jace spoke and Aegon clung to the sound, letting it pull him back to the moment. To the present.

"Is he older than you were? When you snuck out with Daemon?" Jace asked and Aegon choked. Rhaenyra's mouth dropped open. Her face flushed.

The lack of answer gave her away as surely as any admission. Jace snorted, arms crossing as she finally denied it, "By a year, actually, yes."

Aegon remained quiet as his sister wrung her hands above her stomach. Rhaenys' letter was abandoned, dropped onto the central table as Rhaenyra began to pace once more.

He straightened, gaze falling to her bump. His eyes tracked the movement as her hand rubbed in small circles.

"Should you be... should you be walking around so much?" Aegon heard himself say. He bit at his lip as Rhaenyra paused.

Her eyes fluttered, nose wrinkling. Rhaenyra didn't stop pacing as she questioned him, "What? Why wouldn't I be?"

He cleared his throat, gesturing vaguely towards her stomach, "With, uh, the baby, I mean." He rubbed at his neck as her eyes narrowed. "The maesters had my mother on bed rest by this point."

"Oh." Rhaenyra's expression softened and her hand roamed over her belly in a wide curve as she laughed. "I'm fine. There's no need to worry, Egg."

He gave a clipped nod. Jace reached out towards him and Aegon drew back, turning his head away. He stumbled back towards the door, but Rhaenyra quickly cut off his retreat.

Shoulders rolling back, Rhaenyra snatched his wrist up. She placed his hand over her stomach.

"Our grandmother, the Princess Alyssa, she was on dragonback the day our father was born. And she took him up flying only days later," Rhaenyra whispered. Voice low, a near hum.

Aegon's breath hitched as he felt the kick beneath his palm. Rhaenyra chuckled. She cupped his cheek and tilted his head up.

"The baby and I are both fine, little brother," Rhaenyra held his gaze as she said the words, another hum. An attempt to calm him.

But she didn't release her hold when she finished speaking. Nor when he drew his hand back. Her gaze narrowed on the left side of his face.

Rhaenyra's entire expression morphed before his eyes. Rage flooded her face, as obvious to him as Sunfyre's, still beating in the back of his head with the rhythm of his heart.

"Are these from the attack?" Rhaenyra's voice was sharp. Her posture matched it. "Daemon said you'd been hurt worse than he first realized..."

A thumb traced one of the bruises on his cheek, beneath his eye. Aegon cringed. A dull pain erupted across his face. He muffled himself, lips pressed tightly together.

"You're not to let him out of your sight again," Rhaenyra released him, turning her head to aim her glare on Ser Arryk. Aegon ducked his head. His eyes squeezing shut as Rhaenyra gave strict instructions to his kingsguard.

He could not be allowed to sneak out again. The events of that morning would not be repeated. Aegon's hands fisted at his side as Ser Arryk received the tongue lashing meant for him.

It was Aegon who'd snuck out. Who'd taken Luke into the city. Endangered her son's life. Her fury was his fault.

"Mother," Jace called out as Aegon wiped at his face. The tears were back. His shoulders shaking.

He couldn't make himself look up, couldn't bring himself to see the digust in his nephew's eyes. Aegon cried as quietly as he could.

"Aegon needs to rest," Jace insisted, "The king was... was very clear about that." It was a terrible lie. Paper thin. The king didn't care that much. Not about him. Not really.

This time, when Aegon made for the door, Rhaenyra didn't stop him. She'd gone quiet. The whole room with her.

It only made his own breathing louder, more obvious as it shuddered through his body. Aegon kept his head down. He flinched away as a hand grazed over his shoulder.

"I will speak with the head of our house guard tomorrow," Rhaenyra cleared her throat, inhaling slowly, "See that my brother is returned to the queen's chambers from here directly."

"Yes, your grace," Ser Arryk agreed and Aegon fled the room quickly the moment the door was opened.

He ran. Ser Arryk called after him, but Aegon didn't stop. Not till he stumbled. Aegon caught himself on his hands and knees. He took gasping breaths, gulping down air as the hallway spun around him.

It was his fault. His fault Ser Arryk was in trouble. His fault his nephew was targeted. He'd created the opening. The opportunity.

Whether his grandfather was really behind it or not, it was probably because of him the damn bounty existed in the first place.

The Strong Bastards, it had called them. Bastards. Just as he'd said, all those years ago, in Driftmark. He'd given the rumors legitimacy, provided a royal confirmation before members of the court.

It was all his fault.

"Your grace?" Ser Arryk knelt beside him. His head ducked down.

The Cargyll twins were both dark haired, with beards to match. Their face swam in Aegon's vision as his kingsguard laid a hand on the back of his neck.

"Slow breaths, my prince, in and out," Ser Arryk whispered. He made a show of inhaling. Slow and deliberate.

Aegon mimicked him, air filling his lungs. He did the same on the exhale too. Ser Arryk did it twice more before turning his head away.

"I have him, return to your posts." His voice was firm. Aegon heard the faint thuds of departing footsteps.

Rhaenyra's guards. Sent to ensure his safety. He couldn't be trusted with that, obviously. He'd make a mess of it. As he did everything else.

"You've had an exceptionally long day, your grace," Ser Arryk helped him to his feet. Aegon leaned on him as they started walking. His body was still shaking. His face still wet.

"I'm sorry," Aegon said, voice cracking. Ser Arryk stiffened. Aegon ducked his head, "It was my fault. My decision, I shouldn't have-"

The arm around his waist tightened. A hand rose up to push his hair back from his face so Ser Arryk could look into his eyes, "I don't disagree with the Princess Rhaenyra. It was my duty to keep you safe. I failed at that."

Blinking slowly, Aegon realized they were not speaking about the attack on the Street of Steel. His eyes widened, head tilting back.

"Are you... are you going to tell anyone?" Aegon asked at a whisper, more a mumble against Ser Arryk's white cloak as the man continued to half carry him through the halls.

He hadn't specified what he meant, and there were several things Ser Arryk had witnessed that evening Aegon would prefer remain unknown. And a few the man hadn't witnessed too.

"The kingsguard protects the royal family. We do not spread their secrets." Ser Arryk assured him. He gave a clipped nod. "My only concern is your safety."

Aegon nodded, throat bobbing. He inhaled slowly, breathing out, "And what about..."

They were nearly to his mother's apartments. He stopped walking the moment he saw Cole standing at her door.

Ser Arryk tightened his hold. He blinked down at Aegon, then glanced towards Cole. Aegon bit his lip. His eyes squeezed shut as he forced himself to speak, "He's a kingsguard too."

"I have never spoken of what I hear when I accompany you to the Street of Silk," Ser Arryk whispered, "Not even to Ser Criston." He exhaled slowly, "What I heard tonight was not and will be no different."

"Thank you," Aegon slumped forward, hanging his head as they kept walking. His shoulders shook as he slunk past Cole, hiding his face just as he had at Rhaenyra's.

The two kingsguard whispered as Aegon entered his mother's rooms. He rolled his shoulders back and straightened up as his mother rose from one of her couches.

"How did it go?" she smiled tightly, hands wringing in front of her. Aegon flashed her a smile and she sunk back to the couch, shoulders sagging in relief. Her laughter was light, her smile soft.

"He said spring, for Daeron's visit, since he's too young to fly in the winter by himself," Aegon knelt in front of her. She cupped his face, eyes shimmering with tears. "I offered to go get him. I'll ask again, after Aemond's nameday."

Aegon had never seen his mother's smile so bright. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

It wasn't a guarantee. The king hadn't even said he would think about it. But as his mother rocked him in her arms, her laughter in his ear, her tears on his cheek instead of his own... Aegon didn't care.

"I'm going to bring Daeron home," Aegon promised her. He kissed the side of her head. He inhaled, focusing on her scent. The perfume that lingered on both of them.

The screams in his head still sounded like her. Like her sobbing, her shrieks, as he huddled against the wall outside her birthing room. He ignored them to answer her other questions about the dinner. His throat bobbed as she smiled down at him.

Her hands were cold, her fingers ice against his warm skin as she traced his bruises. Her smile faltered.

"I'm fine, mother," Aegon lied, "I promise." She didn't buy it. Her eyes narrowed on his face still, but she sent him to bed regardless.

They had court in the morning. The lords would surely be quite dramatic, given the sequestrating they'd been forced to endure.

Luckily, Jace was waiting for him. The hidden door opening the moment Aegon locked himself in his mother's back bedroom. He flung himself at his nephew immediately.

"I've got you, uncle," Jace whispered as he pressed Aegon into the bed. Arms snaked around his waist.

His clothes were removed quickly, leaving him in just a shirt and his smallclothes as Jace maneuvered them beneath the blankets.

A kiss was pressed to the top of Aegon's head as he curled up against his nephew's chest. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," Jace hummed.

Sighing softly, Aegon nuzzled against his throat, eyes fluttering closed. Jace held him close, one arm heavy across Aegon's back. A constant pressure. Grounding him.

A small part of him - quiet, but persistent - almost believed it. Aegon almost believed it. Almost believed he was safe.

Maybe that's why he slept so well. So deeply. It might also have had something to do with Jace's fingers laced through his hair.

Chapter Text

Court turned out to be even more exciting than Aegon originally anticipated. Mostly because he had the unexpected opportunity to annoy his little brother.

Not that Aemond was giving him the satisfaction of a response. His little brother was ignoring him. He'd refused to even speak to Aegon.

Which just made Aegon want to tease him more.

"I can't believe you missed our morning flight," Aegon hissed in his brother's ear, hooking his chin over his shoulder from behind, "Is Vhagar cross with me too?"

Aemond's jaw twitched. His expression remained carefully bland, almost bored. Aegon poked at his side. An elbow shot out.

"Oh~ Does Vhagar miss me? I knew she loved me, I'm far more fun than you."

His mother shot them both a look. Aegon grinned at her even as her forehead wrinkled. An eyebrow arched. Aegon mirrored her.

Across the Great Hall, Luke hid a giggle in Jace's shoulder. Aegon's grin widened. Aemond glared at their nephew.

"Is he still your favorite?" Aegon asked, whispering directly in Aemond's ear. His brother's cheeks flushed. Aegon laid his head flat across Aemond's shoulder, pouting up at him. "Aem~"

He wasn't sure why his brother and nephews had come to court today, but all of their lessons had been canceled apparently. Helaena stood on their mother's other side as well, eyes long ago glazed over as the petitioners brought issue after issue before the king.

Most of them little more than complaints about the treatment they faced from the Targaryen House Guards the day before. Brusque and unwieldy the whole lot of them!

It was almost like they were knights...

A few looks lingered on his face throughout the morning. He caught his mother's cousin frowning openly as he surveyed the two kingsguard that flanked their small group. Ser Arryk on Aegon's side, Cole on Helaena's, with their mother directly in the center.

Behind them, three knights had taken up position. Their red cloaks a wall between them and the rest of court. Insulating them from the lords and ladies who might wish to approach anyone directly.

It was not so different from how Rhaenyra's brood was set up across the hall. Baela stood beside Jace. His younger nephew squished between them, half behind his brother. Daemon stood beside his daughter, glowering at any who came too close. Ser Erryk surveyed the crowds of courtiers from Jace's side.

A half dozen knights stood stood behind them in a half circle. Their cloaks black instead of red, Rhaenyra's guard from Dragonstone rather than the house guards of King's Landing.

Rhaenyra stood in the center of them all, expression as neutral as Aemond's and just as fake. One of the ladies of court had made the mistake of approaching her as her lord husband argued his petition.

Dark Sister had been drawn before the woman had stepped within arms length. Rhaenyra had waved her husband back and offered the woman a bemused smiled, joking about Daemon's overprotective nature.

But she hadn't apologized. And no one had tried to approach her since.

The only one not present was Rhaena and Aegon found himself wondering, vaguely, if she were lonely. Wherever she was squirrelled away. Likely in Rhaenyra's apartments with the two younger boys.

Perhaps she preferred being away from the court's probing eyes though. Luke was obviously uncomfortable. Clinging to Jace just as he had Aegon the day before, one hand fisted at his back, the other wrapped around his brother's arm.

Aegon found himself a bit jealous of his nephew, even though he was literally hanging off of Aemond. Luke was plastered to Jace and Aegon's body pulsed with heat as Jace caught his eye. A smirk tugged on his nephew's lips and Aegon burned, warmth blooming out from his mark. Desire coiled in his gut as the heat rsced through his body. His blood seemingly boiling even as Aegon tried to ignore it.

He was failing. Epically.

An elbow struck his stomach and Aegon muffled a groan in Aemond's shoulder, gaze dropping to floor. He inhaled slowly. Quietly.

The heat abated. At least a little. His body cooling enough for his mind to clear. He couldn't get distracted by his nephew. Not here. Not with so many witnesses.

"Thanks," Aegon mumbled and his brother hummed. The closest he'd gotten to a word all day.

The next petitioner stepped up and Aegon straightened as he caught sight of the green. Lord Ormund was bowing low, greeting the king and then the Hand with a jovial smile. Otto flashed his own in return. Aegon's gut twisted.

Body heat plummeting, Aegon found himself shivering as a chill ran up his spine. He tugged his brother back, half a step, pulling him to his side.

"What's happening?" Aemond turned his head, brow furrowing as Aegon shifted, turning his body half in front of his brother. He felt Rhaenyra's heavy gaze sweep over them. Aegon didn't look. He raised his chin and narrowed his eyes as Hightower spoke.

"I have enjoyed your hospitality immensely, your grace, and I regret having to make this request so soon, but I would beg your leave for myself and my party to return to Oldtown on the morrow," Lord Ormund spoke with a booming voice. Friendly, but forceful.

The exact inflection the Hand often tried to teach him. Aegon was quite bad at it, unfortunately. Never able to make himself nearly as commanding as he ought to be.

The king's eyes fluttered and the whispers around the Great Hall were already starting. Viserys leaned forward on his cane. His brow furrowed, "You wish to leave before the tourney? It is less than a week away, my lord."

"Wish is too strong a word, your grace," Ormund laughed. He made a sweeping gesture towards them, to the queen, "And I am loathe to miss Prince Aemond's nameday." The king bristled, frowning as Ormund continued, "But the weather grows worse each day and the road home more perilous. With my lady wife carrying a child, I do not think it wise to risk staying longer."

With a single petition, the Lord of Oldtown had just effectively insulted both the king and his chosen heir. He'd also seamlessly showcased the disparity between the celebration of Rhaenyra's son and the king's.

Aemond pursed his lips, jaw tight, as eyes flickered towards him. Gazes which sat heavily on his shoulders as they lingered on the eyepatch. He fisted a hand at his side and Aegon grabbed it.

"Ignore them," Aegon reminded him. Aemond gave the tiniest of nods as he breathed out, nostrils flaring. Their mother reached out. A hand resting on Aemond's back even as her eyes remained forward.

The king couldn't deny the petition. It was a formality, at best. Ormund making the request publicly was unnecessary, and most definitely purposeful. Calculated, even.

Aegon frowned at the Hand. His grandfather remained quiet, hands clasped before him as the king spoke.

"I can certainly understand a man's desire to look after his wife, especially with her in such a delicate position," Viserys offered a tight smile. His knuckles white on his cane.

No one would ever mistake the Lord of Oldtown as a man who gave any thought to his wife. Certainly not her comfort or her health. He cared only for the pleasure she brought him. And the sons.

"You may go, and I shall wish you safe travels," the king inclined his head forward and looked specifically to Lady Hightower, "I pray the Seven shall bless you with another healthy babe, my lady."

"Thank you, your grace," she curtsied low from beside her husband. Ormund's smile twitched as the king dismissed him with barely a wave. His gaze dropped to the Hand as they backed away.

Otto stared back, eyes hard. If Ormund had thought his uncle would provide him any sort of demonstrative support, or even acknowledgement, when the king was annoyed, he was a fool.

But Aegon already knew that about the man.

Ormund was just his grandfather's puppet. He had none of the strength or political acumen of his predecessor, nor the intellect to realize what Otto was truly doing.

All he wanted was to be recognized as a great lord, as powerful.

It wasn't about the king. Nor the tourney. It wasn't even about the king leaving Aemond out of the celebration or about Aegon being the supposedly rightful heir.

This was about Rhaenyra. As everything always was. Rhaenyra and his mother. Their connection, their relationship.

Ser Harrold said the Hand was to blame for their falling out. As Aegon watched Rhaenyra's fingers twist at her rings and his mother's hand tighten on Aemond's arm, he realized that had not been an accident.

The division between them, the hostility. Otto had constructed it, had created it, and he continued to fuel it, obviously. Anger twisted in Aegon's chest. His lungs burned with it as he took a breath.

Aemond turned his head again, brows furrowing. He squeezed at Aegon's hand. His trembling hand. Aegon swallowed back a growl and Aemond arched a brow.

His mother and sister had been giggling on the battlements together two days ago. The queen's hands truly warm for the first time in Aegon's memory.

And then a bounty showed up on the very day Aegon had agreed to take Luke into the city. Their mother's cousin was basically shouting about the king favoring Rhaenyra's children over the queen's. Drawing every eye to them, to Aemond and his eyepatch, to Aegon and his bruises.

"The Hand is making a play," Aegon whispered in his brother's ear, finally answering his question. Aemond's eye flickered towards their grandfather as he beckoned the next petitioner forward.

Behind him, someone made a crack about the king's lack of care for the queen. His lack of *interest.*

"Perhaps he'll have the maesters do away with her as he did his first queen, now that she's barren and old."

The skin around Rhaenyra's eyes grew tight across the hall and her hand cupped the bottom of her belly. Obviously, the jokes were not contained to their side.

Aegon met her gaze briefly. Her violet eyes as hard as gemstones, and glittering just as brightly with tears no one would ever see.

One of the ladies giggled, "Perhaps I ought to wear a different dress to court tomorrow. See if I can't catch his eye."

He couldn't look at his mother. He couldn't turn his head and watch her eyes do the same as Rhaenyra's. She might flutter her lashes once or twice, to hide the tears, but Aegon would still know. Aegon knew all her faces.

Aemond tugged at his hand, throat bobbing as he turned to look at him again. Eye wide. Terrified.

The question went unsaid. Unasked. Aegon's other hand fell to the pommel of his sword. His grip tight as Helaena caught his eye.

Fuck. She'd heard it as well then. Her lips were pursed, a thin line across her face.

"Aegon." The queen called to him as he half turned to face the courtiers snickering beside the column near them. His knuckles were white on his sword as she looked at him.

No tears. No fluttering lashes.

A true mask of stone. Completely unshaken by the words swirling around them. A hand dropped to Aemond's and she tugged him closer.

His brother went without further prompting, taking her hand in both of his. He might've been taller than Aegon, and a better fighter, but he was also only three and ten.

Still young. A child, really, underneath all his scowls and snarky jokes. Aemond dropped his head to their mother's shoulder. Aegon's chest grew tight. His rage screaming for an outlet.

Voice low, the queen's command was clear, if barely audible, as she whispered over his brother's head, "You will spill no blood in front of your siblings."

He turned back around with a huff, giving her a clipped nod.

"I want their names." Aegon ducked his head and looked up at Ser Arryk. His kingsguard arched a brow. "The ones making jokes, about my mother. I want to know who they are."

The king wouldn't do anything to their mother. He obviously still.... favored her, well enough to get her with child again. And she wasn't barren. Not truly.

Regardless, his mother looked after the king. As much his nurse as she was his wife sometimes. He had no reason to put her aside.

The only threat the king posed to his mother was the babe he'd put in her.

When Ser Arryk whispered the names to him a few minutes later, Aegon filed them away regardless. Repeating them in his head. Memorizing them. His rage simmering. Snapping at his patience like Sunfyre did threats.

Decisive actions, that's what the Hand wanted him to make, to defend his family, his claim.

Aegon could do that. His chin rose, nostrils flaring. His fingers flexed on the pommel of his sword.

He just had to wait.

Not even terribly long.

The two courtiers in question only stayed so long as their liege lord did. And his petition was soundly denied.

"And where are you going, Aegon?" the king called out to him, eyebrow arching as he headed for the door. He spun around, dipping in to a low bow and plastering on a smile.

"In search of food, your grace," Aegon popped back up, smile broad. A few more eyebrows arched as he laughed, "The stout tea Helaena brought me in the dragon yard is wearing off it seems and I skipped my morning meal to spend extra time with Sunfyre. He's rather cross with me after yesterday."

Awkward shuffling from those around the court was soundly ignored. His father smiled at Aegon, amusement dancing in his eyes as he chuckled softly, "A sacrifice we all appreciate I'm sure." He waved him on, attention returning to his petitioner, "Be quick about it."

Aegon's smile didn't drop as he left the hall. It merely twisted, viciously, as he called out to the lord grumbling his way towards the guest quarters.

"A moment, Ser Arryk," Aegon held his hand up and the knight's footsteps paused a few paces back as Aegon kept walking. Stalking closer to his prey.

The lord preened under his apparent attention. His vassals paled as Aegon's eyes grazed over them. One had the good sense to duck her head as he narrowed his gaze on them.

"Tell me, my lord, do you know the punishment for plotting against the king?" Aegon asked with a hum, head tilting to the side. He softened his expression, fluttering his lashes like his mother did. Smiling shyly.

Aegon would never be Ormund Hightower, but his mother was more effective anyway. More intelligent.

The man startled, flushing crimson, "That would be treason, your grace. Punishable by death."

"Is it?" Aegon clicked his tongue, fingers drumming over the pommel of his sword. He looked to the man's vassals. The two women hiding behind him in their best gowns. "How about plotting against the queen?"

A glance back at his charges and the lord was stuttering. Aegon giggled, ducking his head. His hair fell forward as he took a final step closer.

"Still treason, I think," Aegon whispered to him. He inclined his head a little closer, voice dropping lower as he chuckled, "Especially if you're stupid enough to do it in earshot of her son."

"You have my humblest apologies, your grace," the lord was quick, even stammering, eyes wide. Hands flew up.

One of them was his daughter, apparently. Young and inexperienced. The other a ward. A cousin of his late lady wife.

"Both a bit dim, as is obvious, as you said, your grace." He swallowed thickly, eyes wide, as Aegon merely tilted his head the other direction. Staring at him. Openly.

"Curious, isn't it, that you know exactly what I'm talking about, even though you were not present to hear them say it," Aegon made a show of fluttering his lashes again, squinting at the lord, "Very astute of you, my lord."

Aegon raised his chin, lips puckering. He surveyed the two gossipers.

The younger girl was one he recognized from the battlements when he fought with Cregan and Daemon. A lady in waiting then, meant to attend his sister, though she likely only saw the girl at lessons or court. Helaena preferred her solitude.

The other was older. Her dress cut lower. The jewels placed carefully. Strategically. She was the only one smart enough to cower. Which meant she'd been smart enough to know her words might be overheard. Perhaps by the queen. Perhaps on purpose.

"I do hope you haven't said these sorts of things before," Aegon smiled at the younger lady, voice sharp, "Certainly not around my sweet sister?" She paled. "Ah, well, in either case, you won't have a chance to do it again."

"My prince, I beseech you-" The lord's begging was interrupted by a loud shout.

"Uncle Aegon!" Joffrey's screech preceeded his footsteps only by a moment as the boy came running down the hall from behind the lord and his daughter. He was closely followed by Rhaena and four Targaryen guards.

Aegon's shoulders lightened at the sight of his dark curls rushing forward. He fell to a knee with a laugh and Joffrey barreled straight into his arms. Tossing his head back, Aegon rose with a spin. His nephew giggled, clinging to his neck.

Pressing Joffrey's head to his chest, Aegon blocked his other ear with his hand. He turned to the lord, inclining his head in a short bow, "You can go."

He let them get two steps before clearing his throat. Aegon kept on smiling, kissing Joffrey's head.

"If your daughter goes near my sister, or your ward my mother, I will behead all three of you," Aegon promised, tossing his hair back with a sigh. The lord nodded, bowing low before ushering his daughter away. He scowled at his older charge, already hissing reprimands.

"Did I interrupt something important?" Joffrey asked as Aegon dropped his hand. His head perked up as Aegon snorted.

Aegon made sure his voice carried as he spoke, "Oh no, absolutely not, just sorting out some nonsense. I can always go find them again if I need to."

Standing a few paces away, Rhaena arched an eyebrow. She glanced around at the fleeing lord. A hand rose to her lips as she giggled, "Oh good, she's my least favorite."

"That's because Targaryens have very discerning taste, cousin," Aegon winked at her and her cheeks flushed. Hands clasped in front of her, Rhaena ducked her head.

A hand touched his cheek and Aegon looked back to his nephew. Joffrey was scowling now. His brow furrowed, forehead wrinkled, and jaw clenched. A near exact replica of his eldest's brother favorite expression, down to the narrowed slant of his eyes and the slight pucker of his lips.

"Your face is bruised," Joffrey huffed and Aegon hummed, face flushing as he recalled Jace's words from the night before. His nephew traced the purpling skin along his jaw down his neck.

His collar was yanked open without warning and Joffrey growled. Aegon yelped as his nephew managed to tug open the top three clasps of his doublet.

"Luke said you weren't hurt that bad!" Joffrey shrieked as he found the bruises on his collarbone. Aegon nearly dropped him trying to pull his shirt closed.

"Joffrey, you can't-" Rhaena groaned as his nephew jumped to the ground and took off running. She yelled, already following after him, "Joffrey!"

Aegon blinked, mouth hanging open as he straightened his clothes. Ser Arryk smirked as Aegon started back towards him. He arched a brow as Aegon pushed on his doublet.

The clasps were broken and it wouldn't quite lay flat without them, exposing more of his neck than Aegon was comfortable with. A sliver of his chest.

"I suppose Velaryons are known for being men of action..." Ser Arryk drawled and Aegon cringed. The knight gave in, ducking his head to laugh.

"The dragon blood certainly doesn't help," Aegon sighed, looking with some trepidation at the doors of the Great Hall that Joffrey had disappeared through.

The king had risen from the Iron Throne, but paused in his descent several steps down. Rhaena had her head bowed to her sister's shoulder. Half the hall was staring wide eyed at Joffrey as he rambled, the rest were watching him too, but with varying expressions of horror.

"And then they have to burn! All of them!" Joffrey stomped his foot and tugged on his mother's dress, "Someone hurt Aegon and they have to pay! Every piece of them!"

Whoever thought mixing the Velaryon and Targaryen lines was a good idea had surely been insane. Joffrey was only five, but he had a very thorough plan for how enemies were to be dealt with. Obviously.

"Sunfyre did burn them, Joff," Luke pipped up, ducking around their mother as she held Joffrey's hands. Rhaenyra couldn't quite lean over enough to calm him as she wanted. Luke offered his little brother a small smile as he cupped his face in both hands, "Dragons are very protective of their riders and Sunfyre is especially vicious when provoked."

Joffreyed puckered his lips, "You promise?" Luke nodded sagely. "They suffered right? Cause Aegon has lots of bruises and they aren't just on his face."

Head snapping up, Luke's brow furrowed as he looked for him. Aegon kept a hand firmly placed on his doublet as he stepped further into the Great Hall. His nephew was not the only one looking for him.

The king had startled. Daemon had stiffened. Cole's head had snapped around. All three were staring at him. Eyes narrowing on his hand, on the broken clasps of his doublet.

His brother was shaking. Refusing to look at Aegon as his face twisted with rage. His hands curled into fists as he moved away from their mother. Just the one step.

"Don't worry, Joffrey, if Sunfyre missed anyone, I'll be sure to feed them to Vhagar at the earliest opportunity," Aemond called out, arms crossing and lips curling back. His eyes narrowed on the floor. "Whatever's left of them anyway."

"Sunfyre doesn't miss!" Aegon squawked, stomping his foot for emphasis as his hands flew out, "He had a very productive hunt yesterday which speaks for itself!"

Now clinging to his mother's skirts, Joffrey giggled, "Hunting for food is different, uncle."

Eyes fluttering, Aegon's gaze rose from his nephew to his sister. Rhaenyra gave him a sharp look and he pursed his lips. The king cleared his throat, cane banging loudly as he took another step down.

"I think that's quite enough excitement for now," Viserys gestured wide, making a vague shooing motion towards the doors with both arms, "We shall follow Aegon's example and take a short break for lunch."

By the time Viserys was at the bottom of the steps, the room had cleared. Aided by the house guards. A quick nod from Ser Harrold and the various guards, the king's and Rhaenyra's, all stepped back, taking posts against the wall beside the various doors.

Privacy. Of a sort. The closest one could get in the Great Hall, surrounded by literally every member of the royal family, save Princess Rhaenys.

In her place, he got the Hand.

"Your grace-" Otto was waved off as dismissively as the rest of court and he shut his mouth immediately.

The king was still looking at him, eyes boring into his chest. Narrowing on his neck. A few of the bruises there had gone entirely purple already, just visible with the collar of his doublet loose around them.

"What's this about the bruises being other places?" the king arched a brow as he spoke, voice sharp. Commanding. Aegon's stomach twisted.

"Jace says Aegon always pretends he's not hurt as bad as he is," Joffrey offered up from beside Rhaenyra, scowling, "So when I saw them on his neck, I had to check. He has bruises on his chest too."

Otto coughed, hands clasped before him, "Perhaps a maester should-"

"I had a healer look at me yesterday, I'm perfectly fine," Aegon cut him off, throat bobbing as his cheeks flushed. Aemond scoffed and Baela snorted.

All three of his nephews were actively glaring at him. Rhaenyra was frowning, "I don't think anyone is buying that, Egg. Or she wouldn't be coming to check on you again now would she?"

Aegon's head whipped around to narrow his eyes on Daemon. His uncle didn't even flinch as Aegon snarled, "If you have to eavesdrop you could at least keep it to yourself!"

"Enough!" Viserys snapped his cane on the floor. Aegon jumped, flinching back. He ducked his head as the king sighed, "Show me, boy."

He undid an additional two clasps on his doublet before pulling it and his shirt aside to reveal his left side. From shoulder to the top of his stomach.

"It looks worse than it is, I promise," Aegon said as he looked away from the king. He found his mother. Her eyes watering as she stoood beside her own father. He handed her a handkerchief, rubbing at her back.

Aegon's gaze dropped to the floor.

"Even if it only hurts half as much as it looks like it should..." Daemon drawled, circling around him. He tapped at Aegon's chin till he looked up into his uncle's eyes. Daemon arched a brow, "...it still hurts." Aegon snapped his head the other way.

Jace was staring at his chest, pale-faced, lips parted slightly in horror. It hadn't looked quite so bad the night before. Aegon hadn't taken off the shirt he'd slept in until after Jace left through the hidden door.

He'd always bruised quite colorfully.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be flying in such a condition..." the king mused as his hand skimmed up Aegon's neck. He loosely cupped Aegon's cheek as Aegon inhaled sharply. Viserys smiled, "A suggestion, Aegon, not an order."

"The healer already took my wine away again," Aegon chuckled as he dropped his shirt and doublet back into place. His smile flickered as he met his father's gaze, "If you take away flying, I'll have nothing to do."

Otto snorted, lips twitching up, "You'd have the Small Council still." Aegon groaned, head falling back.

Laughter filled the room. Slowly. In soft giggles and nervous chuckles that eventual rose higher and grew more confident. Aegon savored it for a moment.

His whole family, all together, laughing. His father too, his hand gentle on Aegon's cheek.

The king stepped away from him, eventually, moving towards Rhaenyra. Aegon dropped his head forward and started fixing his shirt. Again.

It was Joffrey the king spoke to though, not Rhaenyra. He leaned over his cane, grinning broadly as he did it. Voice low, almost teasing, "Now, I don't believe making sure Aegon was properly looked after was your original reason for visiting us, Joff. Was it?"

"No..." Joffrey bit his lip. He looked up at his mother then, eyes wide and shimmering with tears. His pout was already firmly in place, "Please, mother! Can Tyraxes come stay in the nursery with me?!"

"Joffrey..." Rhaenyra started, sighing heavily, eyes squeezing shut. The king chuckled and Daemon chortled. They both avoided her gaze when Rhaenyra opened her eyes.

Joffrey whined, rocking sideways on his feet, "Aegon gets to have Stormcloud!"

Rhaenyra shook her head, "Stormcloud is a hatchling."

"Jace has Vermax in the dragon yard!" Joffrey stomped his foot, bouncing as he tugged at her arm. Jace scoffed.

In a quick motion, Jace grabbed his brother and flipped Joffrey over onto his shoulder. He tickled at his sides as Joffrey's legs kicked at his back.

"Vermax is here for protection. Not to play," Jace reasoned and then Luke was the one snorting. Baela arched both brows, arms crossing. Jace rolled his eyes, "I went flying this morning to do a quick perimeter check. Daemon's mentioned we should do them more often, with Dorne being all weird about the Stepstones."

"Wait," Baela choked, her lips spread wide in a manic grin, "Did you just admit to doing something my father suggested?"

Jace narrowed his eyes on her. Joffrey cackled, poking at his brother's stomach, "You did! You did! You listened to Daemon!" In a blink he was singing it. Luke and Rhaena joining in immediately.

"Regardless!" Rhaenyra cut through her children's teasing before Jace could. She raised her hands to cup Joffrey's face as his head rose up from Jace's chest. "Tyraxes is in the Dragon Pit. You are to remain here, in the Red Keep, until the danger has passed."

"But he's not!" Joffrey brightened, wiggling in Jace's hold, "I saw him from the window in the nursery! He's with Sunfyre in the yard!"

Aegon stiffened at those words, cheeks flushing. Beside him, his brother paused in his step. His lip twitched as he surveyed Aegon.

Grimacing, Aegon ducked his head as Aemond gasped, far more dramatically than he ever would naturally, "I sleep in for one morning and you steal a dragon, brother?!"

"I didn't steal him!" Aegon hissed, but the whole room was already looking at him. Joffrey giggling as Aemond held a hand to his chest.

"Really? I suppose the baby dragon just followed you home..." Aemond drawled, head quirking to the side. The blue of his eye was brighter than usual. Mischief shimmering as he smirked, "Or are we blaming Sunfyre for this?"

Joffrey started kicking his legs in the air and Jace yelped. He shoved at Jace until he was put down. Aegon startled as his nephew nearly slammed into his legs, arms circling as he stopped himself. He started jumping up and down instead, tugging on the bottom of his doublet, "Can we go play with him, uncle?! Please!! Please! I want to visit Tyraxes!"

Cheeks burning, Aegon glanced up, eyes wide as he looked to his sister for help. Rhaenyra was pursing her lips, face pressed to Daemon's shoulder. He groaned. She was not going to help him.

"You brought him here, right?!" Joffrey clamored up into his arms as Aegon crouched before him. Hands cupped at his face as Joffrey puckered his lips, "Don't you want to visit the dragons, uncle?"

"First off," Aegon cleared his throat. He raised a finger and focused on Joffrey, trying to block out all the other eyes lingering on his chest as his doublet fell open again. "It was Sunfyre who collected Tyraxes from the Pit-"

Aemond actively cackled. The twat. His hair fell into his face as his head fell forward. Shoulders shaking from his laughter.

"I was barely involved!" Aegon snapped at his brother. Jace coughed and he narrowed his gaze on him. It had no effect.

"So, uh, how did Sunfyre collect Tyraxes exactly then, uncle? Because he wasn't there this morning..." Jace arched a brow, grinning at him. The traitor.

Whining, Aegon ducked his head to Joffrey's curls, hiding his face. His little nephew pushed lightly at his shoulder, "Uncle!"

Blowing out a breath, Aegon glared at his brother, "Fine. I might have assisted, slightly, in helping Sunfyre find his favorite hatchling while Jace was doing his little patrol."

A giggle and several snorts sounded from those around him, including the nephew wrapping his arms around Aegon's neck.

"So..." Aemond leaned over, smirking. He clasped his hands behind his back as he sighed, "...you stole a dragon from the pit?"

"Sunfyre was very cross with me!" Aegon defended himself, rising to his feet with a huff. He cuddled Joffrey to his chest. "Vermax likes to play with Tyraxes too! He's a small dragon, hardly noticeable!"

Slightly more noticeable than he'd expected... but then he'd been a bit hazy that morning still. He'd woken Jace with a kiss that had ended with him muffling his moans into a pillow. Once his nephew had left, Aegon had stumbled into the bath and then rushed for Sunfyre.

He hadn't been joking about skipping breakfast. Helaena had presented him with some odd tea when he left the bath. Peppery and warm. It had left his fingers tingling and settled his stomach well enough.

"Are you implying that you bribed your dragon with another dragon so that he wouldn't be angry with you?" Rhaena asked, voice lilting as she tried not to giggle.

Baela had no such impulse and tossed her head back with a bark of laughter, "I don't think he's implying that, sister, I think he admitted it."

"It's not his fault!" Joffrey shouted, burrowing in to Aegon's chest, "Tyraxes is really cute and Sunfyre doesn't have any hatchlings of his own!"

"Yeah! What he said!" Aegon bounced Joffrey lightly. It earned him only more laughter so he hid his face in Joffrey's curls, whispering to his nephew, "I don't think they fully appreciate how adorable Tyraxes can be."

Head bobbing, Joffrey agreed readily. He nuzzled against Aegon's throat. Lashes fluttered, lips trembled, "I do, uncle. Same as Sunfyre."

Oh. His nephew was good.

"So..." Aegon pursed his lips and chanced a look up at the people around him. His grandfather was pinching the bridge of his nose, but everyone else seemed more amused than anything.

The king was actively laughing, head ducked with Daemon's as they shared some anecdote or another. Rhaenyra was smiling at his mother, who was smiling right back, head shaking slightly.

"If I'm not in trouble..." Aegon took one step back. Then another, slowly circling around behind the rest of the group. His gaze flickered to Ser Arryk, pressing a finger to his lips as he tightened his arms around Joffrey.

Jace noticed first. His lips twitching up. He looked pointedly at the guards and Aegon gave a quick nod.

"Perhaps, Joffrey and I could just..."

"Ah!" Rhaenyra spun around, finger rising into the air as she narrowed her eyes on him. He stopped three paces away from the door. "Are you ever not trying to kidnap one of my sons?"

Blinking slowly, Aegon looked from Joffrey to Luke before shrugging, "Well, they come willingly." Baela snorted and her sister stiffled her own in her hand. "And I was going to take guards this time."

Eyes fluttered. Eyes rolled. Daemon was now the one pinching the bridge of his nose. The king sighed, head shaking, "I thought you were hungry, Aegon. You can't have had time to-"

"Dragons are far more fun than food!" Aegon scoffed. And now the eyes were narrowing. His brother's especially.

"The healer said you were suppose to eat more, mother said so," Aemond reminded him. Voice sharp. More a threat than anything.

Joffrey wiggled from his arms and Aegon groaned. His nephew tugged on his hand, "You can eat with me, uncle! Then we can play with the dragons after!" He aimed a pout at his mother then, "Right?"

"I think that's a splendid idea," the king hummed, leaning heavily on his cane. He aimed a smile at Joffrey, giving him a quick wink, "You'll see to it that your uncle is properly looked after, won't you, Joff?"

A solemn nod. Aegon whined. His nephew giggled and tugged on his hand. Ser Arryk and four Targaryen guards accompanied them out of the room, and right over to the dragon yards.

"We can collect Tyraxes first, just like Sunfyre did," Joffrey grinned up at him, "And then he can come back with us to the nursery for lunch."

"I knew there was a reason you were my favorite," Aegon gasped, swinging his nephew back up into his arms. He peppered his face with kisses, spinning in the snow when they slipped outside. Joffrey giggled, shrieking with laughter that was quickly joined by his dragon's.

Sunfyre had to be bribed with many kisses and a promise for a night time flight before he would allow Tyraxes up from beneath his wing. He nudged his maw against the young dragon and Tyraxes chirped. Vermax did the same as the silver beast passed by him. This time, Tyraxes cooed, wings fluttering.

Aegon's breath hitched as he watched them fret over Tyraxes like he was a proper hatchling. Their hatchling. His cheeks flushed and he held Joffrey tighter.

"This is gonna be awesome!" Joffrey squealed, hands flying out as they returned to the keep. Tyraxes scampering across the stone floors beside Aegon as he strolled forward.

"Has Ty met Stormcloud yet?" Aegon asked and Joffrey wrinkled his nose. He chuckled, "I'll help you introduce them, but Tyraxes will have to wait outside the nursery while your little brother and I prepare okay?"

A sharp nod and Joffrey was off, rambling about all the things the five of them could do. Aegon vetoed hide and seek immediately. His nephew whined.

"Think of poor Ser Arryk!" Aegon argued, tossing his head back towards the knight, "He already plays hide and seek with me all the time. Imagine if I had your help!"

"Prince Aegon is already quite proficient, your grace..." Ser Arryk drawled and Joffrey giggled, hooking his chin over Aegon's shoulder.

"You should ask Jace for help next time," Joffrey told him and Aegon flushed, "My brother *always* knows where our uncle is."

Chapter Text

Aegon hadn't technically really met his youngest nephew. A little fun making faces together at Rhaenyra's table that one time had been the extent of their interactions since the boy had been presented to the court before he left for the Stepstones.

Apparently, he'd made an impression though.

"Uncle!" the toddler lit up when he entered the nursery. Tiny hands grabbed hold of him as little Aegon giggled, "Look! Look! I have a dragon!"

"Wow!" Aegon gasped dramatically as he crouched beside his nephew. He moved slowly as the tiny hatchling stalked closer, following his rider across the room.

Stormcloud was barely the size of a puppy, a small one at that, with a tiny head on his thin neck. His wings flapped uselessly beside him as he reached the two Aegons. His scales were a ruddy blue, not quite so pale as Seasmoke, not nearly as bright as Tessarion, or even Dreamfyre. The membranes of his wings were pale grey, as were the needle-like horns sticking out of his head.

"A beautiful dragon," Aegon whispered softly, ducking his head closer to kiss a chubby cheek, "To match his adorable little prince." His little nephew preened. Giggling as pale hair fell into his eyes.

Thin and whispy, without even the faintest hint of a curl. Nothing like his brothers' hair.

Baby Aegon really did take after Daemon.

With his palm up, Aegon held out his hand. Stormcloud sniffed at it and his nephew watched with rapturous attention, eyes wide.

"Joff says you knows lots about dragons!" Fingers curled into his sleeve and Aegon chuckled. Stormcloud nuzzled at his fingertips. The toddler at his side gasped.

"Would you like to learn how to introduce a hatchling to a bigger dragon?" Aegon asked his nephew, wrapping an arm around him. The boy nodded quickly, head bobbing up and down feverently.

Slowly, Aegon walked deeper into the nursery. He'd left his sword with Ser Arryk in the hallway, but Stormcloud still hissed at him. His nephew hissed back, trailing after Aegon with quick steps. Right at his heels.

A little shadow. One who even shared his name.

"Alright," Aegon huffed as he dropped onto the floor, back to the far wall and a pillow underneath him. He patted at his lap, "You hold Stormcloud and I'll hold you okay?"

Another giggle. The younger Aegon was a very happy child it seemed. Quick to laugh, with a cheerful smile that made his pale eyes light up. Bright as gemstones.

Those he got from Rhaenyra. Aegon had very distinct memory of eyes like that looking down at him as a child. Now they were looking up at him as little Aegon settled in his lap.

"Come," Aegon whispered the word in Valyrian and his nephew parroted it immediately. He squealed with delight when Stormcloud hopped into his lap.

The tiny blue dragon circled in his rider's lap, pawing at his thighs until he coiled up. Aegon smiled as his nephew immediately began petting a hand down the dragon's spine, tracing the little nobs of his vertebrae that would one day become spikes.

"Ready?" Aegon asked and the toddler in his lap straightened, shoulders back as he gave a firm nod. Hooking his chin over the younger Aegon's head, Aegon curled around him just a little, arms loose on his knees.

He whistled a tune and Ser Arryk opened the door. Joffrey was practically vibrating, body trembling with excitement as he led Tyraxes inside. He kept one hand on his dragon's maw, just like Aegon had told him. Ser Arryk trailed behind him, taking up a position by the door, flanking it with his nephews' nanny. Both looking as nervous as Aegon felt.

This wasn't something he'd done before, technically but... he'd seen it done. Sort of. He'd sat dutifully in Laenor's lap with Sunfyre as Rhaenys had brought Meleys to meet the young hatchling.

Both he and Sunfyre had been older though. His little nephew wasn't even two yet and his hatchling was the smallest dragon Aegon had ever seen.

"Calm," Aegon reminded, and both of his nephew's repeated the Valyrian word. Hands on their dragons. Tyraxes' nostrils flared as they stopped a step or two away.

"Now what?" Joffrey asked, biting at his lip. In his lap, Aegon mimicked his older brother, looking up at the elder Aegon expectantly.

It was quite a sight, really. One nephew with a round face and dark curls, the other with a tiny chin and straight silver-gold hair. They couldn't look less alike, except for their eyes. Almond shaped, like Rhaenyra's, like Helaena's too. Aemond's.

Their expressions were somehow still identical though. Brows furrowing and lips puckering. Aegon grinned and kissed the top of the toddler's head.

"Let Stormcloud decide, hatchlings can be a bit aggressive," Aegon told them, rocking slightly. The blue dragon in his lap fluttered his wings. No doubt his little eyes were focused sharply on Tyraxes.

Most hatchlings remained in their nest for the first year of their life, at minimum. Watched diligently by their sire, who would break up any fights if two eggs happened to hatch at the same time. Which was rare.

Rhaenyra was right, Tyraxes wasn't a proper hatchling anymore, but he wasn't large enough to fly with a rider. Not a young dragon. Not yet.

"Be nice," Joffrey whispered to his dragon in stumbling Valyrian. He pressed his lips to silver scales. Tyraxes whined and sunk to the floor. More like plopped really. Practically pouting. He nudged the floor with his maw, tail whipping up behind him.

"He wants to play," Aegon chuckled. He ducked his head and whispered a word in his youngest nephew's ear.

It came out stumbling, and harsh, but he managed it all the same. "Friend!" Little Aegon called out in Valyrian and Stormcloud perked up.

He jumped from their laps down to the floor, claws clicking against the stone beneath him. Stormcloud practically slithered towards the larger dragon, stalking closer. Tyraxes stilled. His tail flicking through the air as he watched the hatchling curiously.

Stormcloud pounced, shrieking as he jumped on to Tyraxes. A squeal rose up from little Aegon and he rushed to follow his dragon as Stormcloud crawled all over Tyraxes, sniffing at silver scales and nudging at his horns.

"Calm..." Joffrey mumbled, throat bobbing as his little brother started grabbing at Tyraxes. Aegon hung back, watching the two brothers and their dragons become accustomed to one another. It had taken a while for Sunfyre to warm up to Helaena that first day in the nursery. And his sister hadn't been so grabby as the younger Aegon.

Stormcloud nuzzled along Tyraxes' neck, just as the silver dragon had done with Sunfyre himself months before when they'd been introduced. The same instinct driving him, pushing Stormcloud to bond with Tyraxes just as Tyraxes had with Sunfyre.

Dragons were similar to people like that, except they made more sense. They learned from one another, cared for one another. These two were clutchmates at that, even with the age gap. Just like Sunfyre and Vermax.

Tyraxes mimicked Sunfyre now, nudging gently at Stormcloud and then a bit at little Aegon. A faint pressure against the toddler's cheek. Almost like a hug. Joffrey grinned wide as his little brother proclaimed Tyraxes the 'prettiest dragon ever.'

"You know... my little brother said something just like that when he was your age," Aegon leaned forward, winking at Joffrey as his little shadow giggled again. Hands rose up to the toddler's lips and he screeched.

"Tyraxes is just like Sunfyre!" Hands flew even higher, rising in to the air. The toddler was excited, and curious. Tyraxes growled low as little Aegon tried to jump onto his back.

In a flash, Aegon was up. He snatched his youngest nephew off the side of Tyraxes before the dragon could buck him. Joffrey wrapped himself around the silver beast's neck. Soothing him with quiet words as he snapped his teeth aggressively towards the Aegons.

Wings fluttered out. Stormcloud whined, slinking away from Tyraxes. His claws found purchase in Aegon's breeches soon after and he climbed up to join the sniffling toddler in Aegon's arms.

"I wanna play with Ty!" His nephew screeched. The nanny started forward as he cried. She paused as Stormcloud hissed at her. Shrieking loudly.

Aegon bounced his nephew lightly, like his mother had taught him to do with Daeron. He shushed the younger Aegon softly, rubbing at his back.

"You can play, but you can't climb on him, okay?" Aegon peppered his nephew's face with kisses. Tiny hands wiped at red cheeks and his little shadow burrowed into his chest. "He'll only let Joffrey do that."

Joffrey wrinkled his nose, face pressed to Tyraxes' neck as he and his dragon swayed. Aegon's lips twitched up as he thought of Vhagar. He combed his hand through his littlest nephew's hair as Stormcloud coiled around his shoulders. Head resting beside little Aegon's as his tail swept over the other. The blue dragon chirped, nosing at his rider's cheek.

"Dragons only bond with one rider at a time," Aegon stepped closer to Tyraxes. He laid a hand over Joffrey's, squeezing as he held his nephew's gaze, "Tyraxes won't let anyone but you mount him, Joff. Not ever."

"Even though I'm right here?" Joffrey huffed, puckering his lips, "Even for a minute?"

"Well, if they're quick, they might last a minute," Aegon knelt down slowly, nudging his nephew so he could press their heads together. "But it'd hurt for much longer. After."

His body warmed as Joffrey slipped beneath his arm. He held both his nephews now. A dragon on his back, another nudging at his shoulder.

He didn't even care that Stormcloud's tail kept hitting at one of the particularly nasty bruises on his collarbone.

In a whisper, Aegon snickered, "Aemond ended up with singed eyebrows when he tried it with Sunfyre. And he wasn't so big yet as our ferocious Tyraxes is now." He pressed a kiss to Joffrey's head, ruffling his hair. "Dragons are territorial. Tyraxes belongs to you and you to him, so he'll defend both of you, whatever he thinks is yours. Himself included."

"So... Aegon can't climb on Tyraxes till I can fly on his back?" Joffrey tilted his head back and little Aegon's head turned too, eyes peaking out. Wet lashes fluttering.

"Well~" Aegon hummed, squinting at Tyraxes, surveying him. He wasn't so small that his spine was entirely knobby. Practically pony-sized now when he stood up on all four. Portions of his back were nearly flat. Almost big enough for a saddle.

Rising up, Aegon wrapped an arm around Joffrey's waist and lifted him up. His nephew squealed in delight as he was sat on top of his dragon. Eyes shining brightly as his fingers slid over silver scales. Tyraxes preened.

"He'll need to grow a bit more, I think, before he can take both your weight at the same time," Aegon bounced his littlest nephew again as the boy reached towards his brother. Pressing kisses to his cheeks, Aegon earned another delightful shriek and tiny fingers pressed to his cheeks.

A throat cleared and Aegon turned his head to the nanny. She flushed as he arched a brow, "Is this..." Her lips pursed as Tyraxes began to stalk across the room, circling the nursery with tail swiping across the floor. Strutting really.

Aegon smiled. He knew which dragon the silver beast had learned that from.

The nanny jumped back as they passed by her. Aegon kept one hand on Joffrey, walking beside Tyraxes with little Aegon babbling to Stormcloud in his arms.

"This is quite unorthodox, your grace..." the nanny wrung her hands, head inclining towards Tyraxes. Aegon shrugged. Ser Arryk sighed.

"See if the kitchen will bring some meat chunks up for the dragons with our lunch," Aegon turned his full attention to his nephews. Somehow, he ended up on the floor, letting the two of them climb all over him. Stormcloud too. They played dragons and knights, tag.

Thankfully, Tyraxes wasn't so heavy yet that Aegon couldn't stand a few of his more excited nudges when it was his turn to catch Aegon. It helped that he wasn't actually standing at the time though.

When the nanny returned with a few servants, Ser Arryk inspected the offerings closely. He'd directed a maid to clear the short table in the front of the room while they were playing. Aegon maneuvered himself onto the floor in front of it, sitting on a pillow again.

"I wanna sit with uncle!" Little Aegon clung to his arm, aiming narrowed eyes at Joffrey. His little shadow was a bit clingier than Aegon had expected. His other nephew stood beside him on the other side, arms crossed and lips puckered.

Blinking slowly, Aegon cleared his throat, "How about you both sit with me?" His suggestion was met with stoney silence. He chuckled nervously as little Aegon climbed into his lap, plopping down with a huff and sticking his tongue out at Joffrey.

"I'm still his favorite!" Joffrey snapped, turning around with a stomp. He sat down a whole half a step away. Right beside Aegon at the table. A position which allowed Tyraxes to coil around his back. A solid weight sitting with them. A comforting little protector.

Aegon always felt better with a dragon at his side. And Tyraxes was trying very hard to act just like Sunfyre. His protective mannerisms so familiar.

Eyes closing softly, Aegon pressed his cheek to the top of his youngest nephew's head and breathed in. He felt so light here, in the nursery, playing games and teaching them a few words in Valyrian.

His breaths came easier. He could almost ignore the aching on his left side.

Joffrey even gave Tyraxes the command to cook his food, completely unfazed by the dragonfire as it erupted from the dragon's lips beside him. The nanny actively shrieked at that, fleeing from the room as Tyraxes tore into his lunch as they did theirs.

"Do you think my sister will be cross with me if her nanny quits?" Aegon turned his head to look at his kingsguard. He combed fingers through Joffrey's curls as his nephew scarfed down his food. "I would think her more accustomed to dragons by now, but... apparently not."

"I can assure you, my prince, no one but Targaryens is ever truly... accustomed dragons," Ser Arryk shifted, eyes fluttering as he looked pointedly away from Tyraxes, "Especially when they're eating."

Little Aegon's hair wasn't so effective as Joffrey's at hiding his smile when he laughed, but Aegon ducked his head regardless. He wrapped an arm around the toddler and let the boy hold up pieces of food for him to eat. Just as he did for Stormcloud. Aegon nibbled at his fingers and his nephew giggled.

Stormcloud gave a shriek as a particularly burnt bit of lamb was held up for Aegon. He smirked at the dragon and opened his mouth wide, lips hovering around the morsel. Stormcloud pawed at his shoulder, neck arching up. He mewled, low and whiny.

"Alright then," Aegon drew back with a chuckle and nudged the dragon forward with a roll or his shoulder. His nephew squealed as his dragon shot forward, tumbling off of the elder Aegon's shoulder and into the younger Aegon's lap. The lamb was quickly eviscerated by the dragon's teeth.

"Stormcloud likes you!" Little Aegon clapped his hands and tossed his head back, beaming up at him. His smile bright and his eyes shimmering.

With a hum, Aegon ducked low to press a kiss to his nephew's forehead. He pressed another to Stormcloud. "I like him too." Beside him, Joffrey huffed, arms crossing.

Aegon leaned over to tug the pouting boy into his side. He peppered his face with kisses too, until Tyraxes pushed his maw in the way to steal a few. Joffrey giggled, blushing madly.

"Uncle!" Joffrey shrieked as Aegon continued his affectionate assault, tickling at the boy's side and pecking at his head, his shoulders. In his lap, his younger charge clapped excitedly. His little shadow curled up with Stormcloud against his stomach, nuzzling closer as he watched the assault.

Tyraxes stiffened and Aegon drew up, head rising as the door opened. Ser Arryk turned his head, one hand on his sword. Rhaena blinked as she paused in the threshold.

"Oh. I thought you would've left by..." Her mouth fell open, eyes widening. She whispered, nearly hissing as she closed the door, "Is that Tyraxes? In the nursery?!"

"No?" Aegon tilted his head, lips pursing. She gaped at him.

Joffrey dove into his lap, wrapping himself around both Aegons as he yelled, "Tyraxes has been good! He even played with Stormcloud and Aegon."

Nodding sagely, Aegon puckered his lips, "Yes, exactly. He was very gentle and I'm very fragile." His nephews both giggled. A hand tugged at his doublet and Aegon looked down at his tiny nephew, "Oh! He meant you? Who wouldn't be good for you though? You're so small and cuddly!"

"Uncle!" Little Aegon shrieked as fingers attacked his sides now too. Joffrey laughed, pressing his cheek into Aegon's shoulder. Stormcloud hissed and Aegon relented.

"See?" Aegon looked up at his cousin, eyes wide and lashes fluttering, "We're having fun." Tyraxes coiled around his back, bumping his head with Joffrey's.

Both his nephews mimicked him, looking up at Rhaena with pleading eyes. She grimaced, brow furrowing.

"You could play with us..." Aegon offered, head dipping low. She startled, cheeks flooding with color. Aegon smirked as she ducked her head.

"You're eating," Rhaena reminded him, head bobbing as she wrung her hands. Aegon whined. She rolled her shoulders back, "Aemond said you need to eat more. And rest."

Joffrey tugged on his sleeve until Aegon ducked his head. His nephew cupped his ear and whispered, "That means Mother is having a meeting. Rhaena always tells us it's time to rest when Mother is bringing someone important over."

"Does that mean we have to be quiet?" Aegon wrinkled his nose and his nephew nodded, head bobbing. Aegon whined again, louder this time. His shoulders sagging. He leaned into Joffrey, lips puckering. "I hate being quiet..."

"Since I'm here, I could fix your doublet for you," Rhaena offered, chin rising. He blinked at her. She rocked forward on the balls of her feet. Her gaze flickered over his chest. "The clasps I mean, the ones Joffrey broke earlier." Her lips pursed. "Only if you want."

Grinning at her, Aegon shed the garment with a few exaggerated movements. "If you wanted me to undress, cousin, you merely had to ask."

Her face went scarlet, the faint flush nearly visible even on her dark skin. She ducked her head, hands rising to her face, "I merely meant-" Aegon clicked his tongue and tossed the doublet onto the other side of the table.

"Just teasing, Rhaena. You're too much a lady to have meant anything untoward," Aegon rested his chin on little Aegon's head as he smiled at her. "Though I'm sure Baela would be very proud if you had."

Rhaena settled in a chair in the corner, ignoring him entirely as she curled her feet underneath her bottom and let her skirts scrunch up around her legs. A sewing basket balanced on the arm and his doublet in her lap, she looked every bit the princess she wasn't. Right down to the golden beads in her hair.

Perhaps Rhaenyra would change that, when she was queen. Elevate her step-daughters' station, make them princesses. Aegon found he rather liked that idea. Rhaena was much more like the girls in the songs than her sister, or even his.

Helaena was odd. Baela was brash. But Rhaena was kind, a little shy. Aemond said she could be plenty tough when she wanted though.

Swaying slightly, Aegon rocked his nephew in his arms as Tyraxes and Stormcloud both approached Rhaena, nosing at her knees or scampering up onto the armrest to nudge at her shoulder. Rhaena merely smiled at them, fingers barely pausing as she cooed. She pressed a kiss to each of their maws.

Tyraxes tittered. Tail flicking about as he made his way back to Joffrey, strutting about once again. Aegon smiled at the dragon's smug display as Stormcloud nipped at one of his horns.

A finger traced his collarbone. Aegon turned his head to find Joffrey standing next to him, frowning down at the bruises peaking out from beneath his dark shirt. In his lap, little Aegon turned to see what had captured his brother's attention.

The room descended into quiet. A wholly unnatural one that had his stomach rolling. His nephews were both staring at the purple and yellow mottled flesh.

"You're hurt," little Aegon whimpered, bottom lip trembling. He sniffled, tiny hand rising to join Joffrey's, fingers stumbling over his neck. "Like Kepa."

"No," Aegon reared back, snatching both their hands. He pulled them away, throat bobbing. "I'll be just fine soon," Aegon assured him, clearing his throat as Joffrey scowled.

The boy stomped his foot and Tyraxes snarled, jaw snapping as Joffrey yelled, "Stop lying!"

Eyebrow arching, Aegon leveled his gaze on the boy, eyes hard, "I thought we were meant to be quieter now, Joffrey?" His nephew sniffled and Aegon inhaled slowly, eyes squeezing shut. He softened his voice, "I will be fine Joff, I promise. The bruises will heal."

"Kepa's don't heal," the toddler in his lap tugged on his shirt, eyes wide. Tears were gathering on his lashes to match his brother's. Joffrey was shaking. Hands fisted at his side.

Aegon wanted to pull him close, gather him up in his arms. Hold him, as he did little Aegon when the younger boy started crying in earnest, pressing his face to Aegon's chest. But Joffrey wasn't a toddler. And his dragon was not a hatchling.

"You need to calm Tyraxes," Aegon told him as the young dragon coiled around his rider, smoke rising in the air as his nostrils flared. Joffrey hiccupped.

"You always say you're fine and you're not!" Joffrey snapped instead, wiping at his face as his tears fell. Anger twisted his expressions. His eyes brightening, a deep molten brown as he shrieked, "You're hurt and you're lying and we probably hurt you more cause we don't know and then-"

"Joffrey!" Rhaena's voice cracked through the air. Aegon flinched at the sharp tone. He ducked his head and clutched his youngest nephew tighter. The younger Aegon gave his own shriek, his dragon joining in to the chorus.

The room filling with the sounds of dragons, and children crying, and Aegon shuddered. It was his fault. He'd brought Tyraxes. He'd upset Joffrey. This was his fault and he had to fix it, had to calm them.

Aegon dragged his head up, breathing out as he met Joffrey's eyes, "I'll show you, okay? You can check for yourself." He tugged at the ties holding his shirt closed, shrugging the shoulder off.

In the corner, Rhaena choked. A thud echoed in the sudden silence as her sewing basket fell to the floor. She whispered a curse.

"They're just bruises," Aegon said it again and beckoned Joffrey over. His nephew's eyes widened as they flickered over all of them. The splotches of purple, of yellow, hints of blue spreading beneath his skin.

His flesh was naturally pale, a deep porcelain nearly so light as his hair, and his chest had none of the color his face had from the many hours he spent in the sun, riding Sunfyre beneath his dragon's namesake.

The bruises stuck out. Some of them more than others. A few looked like hand prints, like the older one on his forearm, but most were just rough shapes. His grandfather had hit him with the back of his hand mostly. A few kicks. Not nearly so hard as he could've either.

Joffrey stumbled forward. A shaking hand rose to Aegon's side, tracing a line up from his ribs. Tyraxes settled, slightly. Another hand slid over his chest, pudgy fingers clumsy as they mimicked Joffrey's movements.

"It's not so rough as Kepa's..." Little Aegon sniffled again, eyes fluttering. He looked up at Aegon, frowning deeply, "Yours are soft."

"Kepa's are scars, Aegon, not bruises. That's why they feel different," Rhaena said and Aegon's gaze flicked towards her finally.

She stood, his doublet gripped tight in her hands, head turned away. Her eyes focused on the wall. The frown dragging down her lips prominent and obvious as her brow furrowed.

"I didn't know Daemon had scars," Aegon admitted, throat bobbing as Joffrey stepped behind him. His nephew inhaled and Tyraxes growled.

Only three people had seen the bruises on his back. The healer. His mother. Jace. And none had seen them since they'd gained their color. The red had given way to much worse.

He shouldn't have curled up on the floor when his grandfather had disciplined him, that only ever made him angrier. It was childish. If he'd taken his reprimand without crying, without acting like a child, the bruises wouldn't be so bad.

"They're from his time in the Stepstones," Rhaena spoke clearly, chin rising, "From killing the Crab King."

"It's not like yours," Joffrey mumbled as his fingers hovered over the twisted flesh on his shoulder.

His grandfather had avoided it, of course, but his nephew's palm grazed the edges just the same, before gliding down his left side.

"Dragon scales," Little Aegon told him, smiling as he pressed his cheek to Aegon's chest, "Cause Kepa's a dragon, like Caraxes."

Lashes fluttering, Aegon narrowed his eyes on Rhaena. She straightened, shoulders rolling back. He'd only heard of one thing that could make the skin as rough as a dragon's...

"Would you like a servant to fetch the salve your healer provided?" Ser Arryk offered, throat clearing.

"Yes!" Joffrey answered for him, head bobbing as he rushed back around to Aegon's side. Gesturing widely as he stomped his foot, "Uncle isn't looking after himself, so I will! The king said so!"

Aegon sighed and gave a clipped nod. Ser Arryk wasted no time. He ducked his head out of the door and whispered with the guard standing on the other side.

Vaguely, Aegon wondered how many guards were in the hallway. Whether the Velaryons had arrived yet. He arched a brow as Joffrey rocked backwards on his heels, bitting at his lip.

"You shouldn't worry about me nephew," Aegon pushed Joffrey's hair back and cupped the boy's face. He smiled at him, "My mother does that plenty." Ducking his head closer, he whispered, "And I've recovered from worse."

This was far from the worse punishment his grandfather had doled out. Though, it had been some time since Aegon had roused his anger quite this thoroughly.

"These bruises didn't keep me from flying this morning and in a few weeks, you won't even be able to tell they ever existed," Aegon pressed a kiss to Joffrey's forehead. His younger nephew nuzzled at his chest, cheek still wet as his brother huffed.

Bottom lip puckering, Joffrey looked at him through his lashes. His eyes still shimmered with tears, "Will you let me put the salve on?"

Joffrey put a rather thick coat on. And he was very thorough in its application, making Aegon raise both his arms so he could check that he'd gotten every spot. When Aegon shrugged his shirt back on, the fabric stuck to his skin. He didn't bother tying it shut, just let the fabric fall as it wanted, hiding the bulk of the bruises once more.

"I'm basically decent again, Rhaena," Aegon called out to her, "You can stop staring at the wall." Her head turned, eyes narrowing on him. He swallowed. "What?"

"I thought Luke was at your back the whole time?" Rhaena quirked a brow, head tilting. Aegon flushed. Ser Arryk's jaw clenched.

With a huff, Rhaena shook her head and returned to her seat. She gave Joffrey a sharp look, "If Tyraxes starts acting like Vermax again, he has to go back to the dragon yard."

Dark curls flew as Joffrey's head snapped around. He paused, pillow in hand, before dropping it beside Aegon. Tyraxes whined, curling up behind him. Aegon reached back to pat at his maw as Joffrey gaped at Rhaena.

"He wasn't acting like Vermax..." Joffrey wrinkled his nose. Rhaena scoffed. In his lap, giggles escaped from behind tiny hands.

"Yeah he was!" Little Aegon grinned at his brother, "He made smoke and everything!" Joffrey shushed him, but that only earned him more giggles.

Whining, Joffrey plopped onto the pillow beside Aegon, sagging forward to steal half of his lap from the toddler already sat on his right leg. Grousing to himself, Joffrey pouting up at the ceiling.

"He's not like Vermax," Joffrey grumbled, arms crossing defiantly. Aegon chuckled and brushed his fingers through his hair.

"I quite like Vermax," Aegon whispered in his ear, "He's fierce, like Seasmoke." Joffrey squinted at him. Aegon pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Tyraxes isn't so grumpy though." At his back, Tyraxes shifted, mewling softly. "He's cuter too."

At that, Joffrey cracked a smile. The first in a while, since Aegon had taken off his doublet. His chest warmed.

His nephew was happy again, and he had both of them in his lap now. Aegon ran a hand over Little Aegon's back. The toddler had taken up residence in Aegon's lap, refusing to leave even as Joffrey fretted over him with the salve. As stubborn as any dragon, truly, and just as set on his nest apparently

Other hand settling on Joffrey's chest, Aegon grinned down at the boy. He knew just what they could do next.

"I hear you want to write to my darling little brother in Oldtown," Aegon drawled. His nephew lit up, just as he expected.

"Yes!" Joffrey chirped, back arching as he preened. Limbs flailed and then he whined a moment later, "But Jace says I have to wait till Daeron responds to his letter to make sure it's okay." Joffrey huffed, head lulling to the side as he pressed his cheek to Aegon's thigh, "He's taking forever!"

"I want ro write too!" his younger nephew tugged on his sleeve, lips puckering.

Joffrey snorted, head tilting back. "You don't even know your letters yet!" The older boy pointed a finger at his little brother, scowling, "And it was my idea! You can't steal Daeron!"

Aegon clicked his tongue, grabbing Joffrey's hand. He lowered it from little Aegon's face as he sighed, "No one is stealing Daeron." He jostled his nephew, ruffling his hair, "Aegon can draw him a picture to go with my letter. You can write your own. Okay?"

Both of them perked up. Joffrey actively squealing as he rushed off to grab paper. He flitted about, gathering his supplies. Apparentlt Jace had not been joking abour Joffrey practicing. He pulled out several drafts, and a whole sheet filled with Tessarion's name written dozens of times, each with slow and deliberate strokes.

It was clear who had the best handwriting in the room and it certainly wasn't Aegon.

"Are you sure he'll want to hear from me?" Joffrey looked up at him, dark eyes trembled as he bit his lip, "He hasn't responded to Jace yet..."

"Ha!" Aegon scoffed and raised a hand to skim his knuckles over Joffrey's cheek, "Who wouldn't want to receive a letter from the fierciest prince in the Seven Kingdoms?" He held his nephew's gaze, eyes focused, jaw set, "Trust me."

Another smile flickered at Joffrey's lips and his cheeks burned. His voice soft, a quiet whisper, almost a laugh as he nodded, "Okay, uncle."

"Besides," Aegon raised his chin eyebrows wiggling, "My little brother is a Targaryen and Targaryens have excellent taste." He winked at Joffrey before swinging his head around to look back at Rhaena, "Right, cousin?"

Head bowing slightly, Rhaena held a hand to her chest, "Absolutely." She cast her voice low in a faux whisper as she grinned at Joffrey, "And you're a Velaryon too. Targaryens love Velaryons."

With a snort, Aegon shook his head, "As the family tree clearly demonstrates." Joffrey beamed, quickly descending on to his paper with great excitement, and focus. Much more than Aegon had ever had at his age.

He wrote his own letter, of course. Rambling mostly, with very little thought to his words. While the younger Aegon scribbled at the bottom of the page, drawing little figures, the elder teased his little brother about the gift he was sending. Part of a set he'd commissioned for Aemond's nameday.

A set of what he hadn't specified, but it would return with Lord Hightower. Aegon knew the raven would arrive long before his mother's cousin. He told Daeron of the flight they'd be taking too. The tradition Aegon and Helaena had for Aemond.

"Perhaps the four of us can fly together soon," Aegon mused, smiling to himself as he pressed a kiss to his littlest nephew's hair.

Little Aegon's people left much to be desired, but his attempt to draw Stormcloud was rather impressive for a toddler who could only write his name. He used some of the colored charcoals the nanny had returned with. No doubt summoned by Rhaena or Ser Arryk.

Once Aegon had filled his half of the page, he set about labeling the dragons for his little shadow. Sounding out the letters like his mother had done for him when he was little as he wrote out each one under his youngest nephew's guidance.

"Well, this is not quite what I expected to find in here," Rhaenyra drawled and the three of them looked up at the door. Aegon stiffened, lips pursing as she swept into the room.

She was not alone. Three men were visible through the doorway, hovering in the hallway, but not enterint.

Cregan was easy enough to identify with his furs and leathers. The other two men had red crabs on their doublets.

Celtigars. One of them likely the heir to Claw Island if his sister was making a point of showing them to Aegon. He was not so distracted by Rhaenyra's pointed look at Tyraxes to miss the obvious show of political strength.

Both of the Celtigars had the Valyrian look, hair only a touch more gold than silver. One even had the striking purple eyes. The other's an unnatural deep green.

It was their swords, not their eyes that caught Aegon's attention. His was leaning against the wall beside Ser Arryk. Far outside his own reach.

Rhaenyra circled behind him, hands resting below her stomach as she surveyed her sons. She pet lightly at Joffrey's hair.

"Another draft of your letter for Daeron is it?" Rhaenyra asked, head tilting. She smiled as Joffrey's face pinched in concentration. He waved her hand away.

"Uncle Aegon says I can send it," Joffrey chewed on his bottom lip, eyes never leaving the paper. Rhaenyra stilled.

Her eyes flickered to Aegon. She arched a brow, "Jace said he hadn't heard from him yet, I thought?"

Throat bobbing, Aegon shrugged, "So? I'm writing a letter. I'll send Joffrey's with mine." He held Rhaenyra's gaze as best he could, his chest tightening as she loomed over him.

Rhaenyra had the support of all three Valyrian houses. A fact she quite obviously wanted to remind him of, with the two men standing in the hallway. Along with the Lord of Winterfell.

Velaryons and Celtigars had more wealth than they had land, or power. The Starks were the opposite. And they were all loyal to Rhaenyra. All armed.

And he didn't even have his fucking sword with him. His grandfather was right, Aegon never learned.

"Well, you would know best on this, I think," Rhaenyra's smile was tight. Her hands clasped together. Fingers twisted at her rings. "I've not exchanged letters with Daeron myself."

"Oh." Aegon ducked his head as his youngest nephew snatched up their shared letter. He'd finished his drawings now and presented it proudly to his mother. Rhaenyra took it with a bright smile.

She lavished him with praise. Even crouching carefully, with one hand on the table, to coo at Stormcloud.

"A wonderful likeness," Rhaenyra told the hatchling, making tiny kissing noises as the dragon preened, "You captured the color of his scales perfectly, Aegon."

The letter was returned to the table. Rhaenyra ran a hand over the words that he'd written, head tilting. She dropped her voice to a whisper.

"Do you have a moment, Egg? The Celtigars were hoping to meet you, once they realized you were here." She arched a brow as Aegon startled back. Her son looked up at him. Rhaena's hand paused in her stitching.

"I'll be right back, Joff," Aegon pressed a kiss to each of his nephews' heads before rising to his feet. Little Aegon whined as he was dislodged from his perch, but he was quickly distracted by Stormcloud crawling up his arm.

Without thinking, Aegon offered Rhaenyra a hand, reaching out to steady her. Shockingly, she took it, rising back to her feet with a well-concealed wince. The baby in her belly kicked at his palm and Aegon smiled.

"Come," Rhaenyra linked their arms together as they walked to the door. She leaned on him a little, as she glanced briefly back at her sons and then Rhaena before they crossed the threshold. "The Celtigars have agreed to supplement the royal household's guards, given the threat."

"Oh." Aegon squeezed at Rhaenyra's arm as the door to the nursery closed. Ser Arryk had followed them out.

Three guards. The hallways had three guards. Two at the nursery door. One further down. One for each of the children inside the room.

Cregan led the little group back to the receiving room. He remained quiet as the Celtigars introduced themselves, but Aegon felt his gaze. His eyes grazing over Aegon's clothes, the gleam to his skin from the salve.

The Lord of Winterfell's eyes did not flutter or narrow on his neck. His gaze did not linger on the bruises. Which was more than Aegon could say for the Celtigars.

Clement and Arthor. The heir and the captain of their family guard. Arthor was a cousin. Far flung on their family's long and branching tree. Both of them knights, nearer to the king's age than Rhaenyra's. Well to do and proper, both of them.

And Aegon stood before them with messy hair and his shirt hanging open. Otto Hightower was surely boiling with rage somewhere. Cursing Aegon's inability to do as he was told. To be a respectable prince for even once in his life.

"If you could, your grace, we would like to hear your assessment of the attack," Clement asked him expectantly, eyebrow arching, "It will be helpful to know what sort of approach to expect from the enemy."

"Approach?" Aegon blinked at them, brow furrowing. Arthor chuckled, head ducking low as he exchanged a look with his cousin. Rhaenyra clicked her tongue and they both straightened.

Clement tried again, clearing his throat, "What tactics did they use? Weapons? That sort of thing."

"They didn't have a chance to draw their weapons, for the most part," Aegon said, crossing his arms over his chest. He shuffled his feet, "One definitely had a sword."

He'd twisted a blade in the man's gut when the man had tried to use it. His fingers twitched in the fabric of his shirt.

A hand rubbed at his back. Rhaenyra. Fingers grazed gently, moving in a wide circle, motion slow.

Aegon rolled his shoulders back, "They tried to surround us, does that help?"

"Ser Gwayne has said he believes they were merely opportunistic thugs," Rhaenyra said sharply, nostrils flaring. Aegon stiffened. She raised her chin, "You're welcome to speak with him to learn more."

A maid appeared, one of her servants. The woman curtsied low, "Pardon, your grace, but Prince Daemon has sent word he would like to speak with Sers Clement and Arthor when you have finished."

Rhaenyra arched a brow at the two men, "Was there anything else, sers?" Clement opened his mouth, but then thought better of it. They bowed low and followed the maid.

"I'm sorry," Rhaenyra breathed out when the door closed behind them. She turned, hand lingering on his arm, "I hadn't realized that was their intent when they asked to meet with you." She huffed, eyes rolling, "Clement's been dropping hints about his daughter coming of age. I thought he might be hoping to... interest you. Not interrogate."

"It's fine," Aegon shook his head, nose wrinkling, "I think I prefer the questions actually..." She laughed, smile wide as her head fell forward.

Her fingers found her rings again. A quick look at Cregan and the lord excused himself, disappearing deeper into Rhaenyra's apartments. Aegon frowned at that.

"I... I am..." Rhaenyra pursed her lips, turning her head away, "Do you really think Daeron will write back to Joffrey? If he gets his hopes up-"

"Why wouldn't he?" Aegon scowled. He straightened as Rhaenyra exhaled slowly.

What was wrong with Joffrey writing Daeron? They were family. Rhaenyra was usually quite pushy about that. At least nominally.

Just like Daemon, and the king.

She tilted her head, meeting his eyes with her own, "Daeron has never responded to my letters. And he has not responded to the one from Jace either."

Eyes fluttering, Aegon stared at her.

His brother had never mentioned Rhaenyra writing him. Not to him. Not to their mother. And Daeron wrote their mother long and quite detailed letters.

"Perhaps he simply didn't get them," Aegon shrugged, jaw clenching.

He hadn't. That was obvious.

If they'd made it to Oldtown at all, Aegon would bet any letter from Rhaenyra or her sons was quickly discarded after being read by the maester. Perhaps even thrown into a fire unopened.

"I'll make sure he gets Joffrey's letter," Aegon raised his chin, inhaling sharply, spine going straight, "My nephew will not be disappointed."

"Okay," Rhaenyra breathed out, nodding slowly. She inclined her head back towards the hall. "You've eaten yes?" He flushed, but gave a clipped nod, shoulders hunching.

She surveyed him again. Gaze heavy as it moved over him, taking in his state. Assessing. Judging.

"I'm fine," Aegon said reflexively. She snorted. He glared at the floor.

"You should rest, Egg," Rhaenyra sighed, quirking her head as she stepped close. A hand cupped his cheek, forcing his head up. Forcing eye contact. "You need it."

With a huff, Aegon ripped away from her hold. His throat bobbed as he turned his glare on her. "I don't need *you* to tell me how weak I am," he snapped, nostrils flaring as his voice cracked, "I'm well aware."

She straightened, calling after him as Aegon stalked back towards the nursery. He ignored her.

Rhaenyra was the heir.

With the power and the allies. She could do whatever she wanted.

But Jace loved him. Joffrey too. Luke. Even little Aegon.

He sunk back down into the ground beside Joffrey, kneeling on a pillow.

So long as Aegon had his nephews' affections, Rhaenyra wouldn't do anything to him. Not directly. not without good reason.

Aegon would simply avoid giving her one as best he could. At least until Jace fucked a babe into him and convinced the king to let them marry.

"I'm finished!" Joffrey cheered, hands rising into the air as he grinned down at his letter. He turned that grin on Aegon. The smile bright, his eyes brimming with joy. "Now what, uncle?"

Wrapping an arm around Joffrey, Aegon kissed his cheek and tugged him close. The boy giggled as he was held tight to Aegon's chest. His hands rose up, sliding around Aegon's neck as Aegon hid his face in Joffrey's curls. He took a breath, let his body shudder and curl around his nephew.

"Are you hurting, uncle?" Joffrey asked, voice wobbling. Warm hands pressed to his face, to his back. Aegon hiccupped.

"Not any more than before," Aegon whispered the truth, nosing at Joffrey's ear as he breathed out.

It wasn't pain. Aegon could handle pain. Manage it. Ignore it.

Fear was harder to deal with. Panic.

His nephew hugged him tightly. Hands petting at his hair.

Wiping at his cheeks, Aegon sniffled as he pulled back. He cleared his throat and reached for his letter.

"We'll just seal them up now, do you know how to do that?"

Aegon kept one arm around Joffrey as they folded up his letter, sealing the ends inside so no one could peak at the words. Joffrey signed his name over the closure and then Aegon let him borrow his signet ring to press a mark down in the wax at the top.

He kept his attention solely on Joffrey, ignoring the looks Rhaenyra and Rhaena were exchanging with one another. Little Aegon was playing with Stormcloud, mimicking the dragon as he crawled around the floor. Arms flapping as both toddler and hatchling failed to fly.

In comparison, Tyraxes had coiled around Joffrey, resting his head on his rider's shoulder as the two watched Aegon fold his nephew's letter inside his own. He smiled at them, raising a finger to tickle beneath Joffrey's chin.

"Now it'll be a surprise when he opens it," Aegon pressed a kiss to Joffrey's forehead, then rose up to press another to silver scales as Tyraxes whined. He grinned, "Daeron likes a good surprise."

More importantly, the maester wouldn't know Joffrey had written, not until Daeron had already opened it.

"Can I press the ring this time?!" A sudden weight collided with his side and Aegon choked back a groan as his little shadow turned into a hard stone. He picked little Aegon up quickly and settled him in his lap.

"Yes, but you must be careful," Aegon poured the wax and kept his hand wrapped around his youngest nephew's fingers, guiding him as they pressed Aegon's signet ring down.

His mark was simple. A dragon with it's wing's spread wide and its head thrown back. Sunfyre at flight, that had been what he wanted when he picked it years before. He traced the imprint once it hardened.

"It may take a bit, for Daeron to respond," Aegon said as he turned the letter over. He wrote out his brother's name, his official title.

Ormund said the maester would give Daeron his letters immediately, but Aegon had to wait until his grandfather deemed him worthy before handing the responses over. And Aegon wasn't his favorite person right now.

"Sometimes I have to wait several weeks," Aegon admitted, ducking his head to Joffrey's shoulder again. His youngest nephew reached a hand up, fingers tangling in his hair as his brother hummed.

"Are you tired, uncle?" Joffrey asked, lips pursing. He shifted. Tyraxes backed up, wings fluttering. Joffrey cupped his cheeks, brows furrowed as his thumbs traced the lines beneath his eyes. "Aegon usually naps around now."

Chuckling, Aegon nodded slowly, "I do too sometimes. And we wouldn't want either of us to get cranky." In his lap, the toddler in question whined, head lulling to the side.

"I'm not tired!" the younger Aegon fisted his hands in the elder's shirt and pouted up at him, "I wanna play more!"

"We'll nap together, hmm?" Aegon sighed, hefting the toddler into his arms as he stood. "Maybe our dreams will find each other then?" Aegon tickled at his nephew's side. He squinted at Joffrey as the boy rushed forward.

Targaryens were not subtle. Velaryons even less so, if Corlys was anything to go by. Joffrey plumped several pillows and dragged additional blankets over to one of the beds. His, most likely, given the blankets were all blue and green.

"Luke slept in my bed last night too, so we should fit here," Joffrey reasoned, chin rising. It was a rather thin argument. Particularly given the bed on the other side of the room was the exact same size.

"Whatever you say, Joff," Aegon ruffled his hair, "You're looking after me yes? Just as the king ordered? I wouldn't want to disobey him." His nephew preened.

Toeing his shoes off, Aegon sat on the bed. He helped his little shadow with his clothes as Joffrey proceeded to strip down to his nightshirt quickly. Blankets were tucked in around him as he settled back. Little Aegon dozed off against his chest before Joffrey had even finished his fretting.

"Ser Arryk?" Aegon called out, throat bobbing as Joffrey crawled over to nest on his left side. The kingsguard still stood at the door. He straightened as Aegon met his gaze.

"I'll be here, your grace," Ser Arryk stepped forward, moving to stand sentry beside the bed instead. Aegon looked up at him, inhaling slowly. "No one will disturb you. Not under my watch."

Chin dropping, Aegon breathed in slowly, nose pressed to dark curls as Joffrey clung to him.

"You're safe here, uncle," Joffrey whispered, tucking himself closer. Fingers traced over the bruises on his collarbone again. "I'm looking after you."

Chapter Text

It was the deepest sleep Aegon had managed in months. Curling up with Jace had been amazing, but this... a solid weight on either side of him, grounding him. It was almost as good as sleeping on Sunfyre. Better even, maybe.

Even his dreams were good, filled with his nephews' laughter. His brothers'. Two blue dragons flying beside him. The bronze beast that was Vhagar at his tail as he soared above the Blackwater.

Aegon never wanted to wake up. When he did, it was slowly. His heartbeat steady. His mark pulsed on his arm and Aegon whined, head turning.

His eyes fluttered open. The room was darker. The sunlight pouring in through the window was a golden orange. Dusk was rising. Aegon squinted in the low light, head rising only slightly.

The boys were still asleep. Joffrey had kicked the blankets off himself almost entirely. His body was broiling as he clung to Aegon.

On the other side, his youngest nephew looked even younger, a proper little baby drooling on Aegon's shirt. He smiled at the younger Aegon, hand rising to push some of the toddler's hair out of his face.

"The Lady Rhaena left your doublet on the chair, your grace," Ser Arryk whispered and Aegon looked up at him, eyes wide. His lips parted slightly, his breath hitching.

Brow furrowing, Ser Arryk startled back half a step under his gaze. His hand fisted on the pommel of his sword as Aegon fluttered his lashes to hide the tears suddenly rising.

"Are... are you alright, my prince?" Ser Arryk cleared his throat. His fingers twitched, hand rising to reach out before he snatched it back.

"Yes," Aegon spoke softly, voice cracking. He sniffled, chin dropping as he shook his head. "Just being stupid."

The kingsguard had said he would stay. Aegon didn't know why he was surprised the man was still here, watching over him as he slept.

Forcing a laugh, Aegon looked back up, "Did I say anything embarrassing in my sleep?" Ser Arryk's lips twitched and his gaze flickered towards the door. "Oh?" Aegon arched a brow.

"You were quiet, your grace," Ser Arryk smirked, eyes shimmering with amusement as he gave Aegon a pointed look, "Prince Jacaerys was not, when he came looking for you a few minutes ago."

Cheeks flushing, Aegon glanced down at himself. He was, arguably, dressed. Shirt. Breeches. But both his nephews had taken hold of his shirt in their sleep, drawing the gap in the fabric wider. Aegon's chest was quite visible, the unbruised side especially.

It was improper, for sure, but very few people ever expected Aegon to be proper. Mostly just his grandfather.

"He left quite abruptly too," Ser Arryk drawled, straightening slightly as he avoided Aegon's sharp look.

"Stay with my nephews," Aegon ordered as he rose from the bed, disentangling himself carefully. Ser Arryk frowned, but gave a clipped nod as Aegon stumbled towards the door.

He rubbed absently at his face as the haze of sleep lingered on his limbs. His body ached a bit. The bruises on his left side throbbing as walked. Aegon used the wall to steady himself as he moved through the hallway.

The guards who dotted his way gave him looks, some stared openly, others turned their heads. One muttered about his lack of shoes.

Why did everyone care so much about him wearing shoes? They were hardly necessary. He was inside!

Jace was easy to find. Aegon didn't even knock on his bedroom door. He just pushed it open to find the younger man bracing himself on his desk. Head hung between his shoulders, knuckles white as he squeezed the wood. Taking very deep breaths with his eyes closed tight

"What're you doing?" Aegon asked, mumbling as a yawn forced it's way out alongside his words. His nephew's head snapped up.

Any remnant of sleep in his body was immediately burned away as Jace looked at him. His gaze heated, cheeks flushed. Aegon blinked as Jace rushed him.

"Gods, how are you so beautiful?" Jace snarled as he took hold of him. His voice was rough, but his touch gentle. One hand sliding into his hair, cupping the back of his head as Jace whined, "Your very existence is temptation."

"What?" Aegon breathed out, gasping as another hand grazed over his right side. Beneath his shirt. Warm fingers providing just the slightest pressure as Jace ducked his head to Aegon's.

The kiss had his head spinning. Jace licked greedily into his mouth and Aegon wrapped his arms around the younger man's neck, holding on as he nephew sucked on his tongue.

Chests heaving, Jace pulled back. Their foreheads touching, Jace's face twisted, his lips curling back as he growled, "You looked so good, Egg. So... so soft, with Joff and Aegon... I can't even..."

His breaths were labored and hot on Aegon's cheek as his nephew held him closer, touched him more. Eyes dark. Pupils blown wide with want. All of it focused intently on him. On Aegon.

"I want you like that all the time," Jace whined, squeezing his eyes shut as he dived back in. Nipping at Aegon's lip, kissing him slow. Thorough.

Aegon had little choice but to cling to his nephew as Jace's attention had his knees shaking. His whole body tingling with such delicious pleasure as warm hands skimmed over him.

The boys. His little nephews. That was what it was, what had Jace so frenzied, so desparate. Not Aegon's state of dress.

They'd already agreed, after all, that Joffrey was a perfect mix of them. A preview. And little Aegon shared more than just his name, but his coloring too.

"One day, it'll be your babes in my arms," Aegon teased, smiling to himself as he laced his fingers through dark curls, "Maybe another in my belly, your seed taking root as I hold them in your bed." Jace's breath hitched and Aegon pressed himself up against his nephew's body with a groan, "I'll give you as many babies as you want, Jace."

His body was boiling now. Aegon curled himself around Jace. The throbbing on his left side fell away, fadding as he was consumed by a dull ache.

An insistent ache. Demanding.

"You could give me one right now," Aegon panted as their lips grazed over one another. Jace whimpered. His hand grabbed at his hip. Aegon raised a leg, wrapping it around Jace as he began to grind against him.

It wasn't enough. Aegon whimpered, nipping at Jace's lip. He wanted more. Turning his head, Aegon pressed his lips to the sharp jawline before him. Jace tilted his head back, groaning as Aegon mouthed at his throat.

"You're..." Jace gasped, stumbling back as he pulled Aegon with him. "You can't just say that..." he breathed out, turning slowly.

Aegon was pushed back into the desk, perched on the edge as Jace stood between his legs. Hands shook as they trailed over Aegon. Until Jace pushed his shirt off his shoulders.

"Oh fuck," Jace exhaled slowly. Aegon whined as his nephew pulled back, stumbling almost two steps before Aegon could grab him. Dark eyes grazed over the bruises, his expression twisted again. Not from need.

"Stop obsessing," Aegon huffed, he slapped at Jace's hand as it rose to his collarbone. He tugged at his nephew's doublet, pulling him closer again, "I'm fine." He dragged Jace's face to his, "I'm so fine all I can think about is how much I want you to fuck me."

His pleading had little effect. His bucking hips were held still. Jace's maddeningly gentle. His touch light, fleeting.

It gave him nothing. No release, no satisfaction. His skin was on fire, his blood boiling with want. Aegon clawed at Jace's shoulders, "I need it, Jace. Please~"

Days. He hadn't been fucked in days. Aegon had gone longer, but never with Jace's cock waiting for him. Taunting him.

"I want you inside me," Aegon begged, lunging forward to capture Jace's lips. He moaned as Jace immediately responded, tongue slipping into his mouth, teeth grazing at his bottom lip.

"I'll bend you over this desk," Jace breathed out, pulling back as he squeezed at Aegon's ass. He pressed their foreheads together, forcing eye contact, "I'll fuck into you, fill you with my seed till you're round with my child if that's what you want."

Throat bobbing, Aegon's breath hitched. He clung to Jace. Head reeling. Nodding slowly as his bottom lip trembled, "Yeah. Yes, that's what I want."

Want was an understatement. Aegon wiggled forward on the desk, trying to press closer. He needed Jace. His body was trembling, thighs shaking.

"Tell me who hurt you," Jace demanded, swallowing thickly. He cupped Aegon's face, voice heavy, dark, "Tell me, and I'll risk a bastard to fuck you right now, uncle."

"What?" Aegon croaked, and his body stilled. He stiffened as the heat drained away, leaving him cold. Empty. He shook his head. His left side throbbed.

Jace snarled, teeth snapping. He dropped his voice low as he spoke, still holding Aegon's face in his hands, crowding him against the desk. The words twisted in his gut like a dagger.

"Rhaena told me about your back. We were in the yard, training. Aemond knows, doesn't he?" Jace huffed, brow furrowing as Aegon gaped at him, "I could see it in his eye, his rage when he threw his sword away."

"Aemond- Aemond heard about my back?" Aegon stuttered out. His hands shoved at Jace's chest. He exhaled, pushing a hand through his hair as Jace nodded.

The words coming from his nephew's lips fell entirely on deaf ears as Aegon scrambled off the desk. He tugged his shirt back over his shoulder, tying it closed as he ran for the door.

"Egg!" Jace yelled after him, but he was already in the hall. Ser Arryk appeared in the receiving room just as Aegon did.

"Grab my doublet and my sword!" Aegon said as he turned, spinning on his feet as he gave the order. He ducked beneath Daemon's arms as the man rose from one of the couches.

More voices called out for him. Aegon ignored every one of them as he flew through the main door of Rhaenyra's apartment.

He had to find his brother. Quickly.

Vhagar was his first thought, but Jace had said he was angry. Not upset, not crying, angry.

Rage in his eye.

"Where's the queen?!" Aegon grabbed the first servant who crossed his path by the shoulders. They startled and he shook them lightly. "Now!"

"With the king, your Grace!" They stuttered out and Aegon rushed for the stairs.

His brother had wanted to tell their mother about Otto's discipline for years. He kept quiet because Aegon convinced him the injuries weren't bad enough to worry her over.

"Aemond!" Aegon shouted as he approached the king's chambers. His brother was pacing the hallway under Ser Harrold's furrowed brow and suspicious gaze.

"You're a fucking liar!" Aemond yelled at him, arms flying wide. His brother spun around, planting his feet as Aegon stopped in front of him, "You said you were fine!"

Hands fisted in his shirt as Aemond grabbed hold of him. Aegon stumbled back, wrapping his hands around Aemond's wrists, "I am fine!"

Snarling, Aemond shoved him away, "Oh, so you weren't beaten then?" His chest heaved, hands fisting at his side, "I helped you clean the blood off, you can't lie to me!"

Aegon's throat bobbed. His gaze flicked towards Ser Harrold. Aemond scoffed and started pacing again. Hair flying as he growled, spitting curses with ease.

"We have to tell mother!" Aemond declared, gesturing towards the door, "The king might not do anything, but she will! You can't keep-"

"No!" Aegon leapt forward. He took hold of Aemond's face, a hand on either side of his face, squeezing, "You can't tell her. You can't make her choose."

That's what it would be. A choice. Him or Daeron. Which son would she protect?

It wasn't a fair choice. Either decision would destroy her. If she picked Daeron, she'd never forgive herself. If she picked Aegon, she'd never forgive him.

"It's not a choice she can make, Aem," Aegon hissed, begging as Aemond gaped at him. He pressed their foreheads together. "I can. I can make it. Let me make it."

"No," Aemond's voice cracked, "You're making me choose." He squeezed his eyes shut. Jaw clenched tight as he stomped his foot, "Mother should-"

Pressing his lips to Aemond's ear, Aegon cut his brother off with the quietest whisper, "She's pregnant again." He exhaled, cupping the back of his brother's head, lacing his hand through the long strands of silver as Aemond went entirely still.

The hallway was as quiet as death. Aegon was wrapped around his brother, holding Aemond tightly as the younger boy blinked. Tears slid down his cheek. Aegon wiped them away.

"You cannot make her choose," Aegon repeated himself, pulling back so he could meet his brother's gaze. He pulled the eyepatch off, staring into the deep pool of blue on both sides.

"But..." Aemond's eye surveyed his face, dropping down to his neck, "This is worse than before." He bit his lip, head shaking.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, at least two sets, more. Aegon's chest tightened. His grip tightened and he dropped his hands to Aemond's shoulder, "I took the blame on Driftmark."

Throat bobbing, Aemond's eyes widened. The sapphire gleamed as his tears coated the gemstone. Aegon's gaze was hard on his brother's face and the footsteps went quiet.

He didn't check to see who'd come with Ser Arryk. Chin rising, Aegon took a shuddering breath, "I took the blame on Driftmark, I covered for you. This is no different."

Head dropping, Aemond cried as his head bobbed in the smallest nod possible. Aegon wrapped his arms around his brother and fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.

"You can't lie again," Aemond huffed out, sniffling against Aegon's throat, "You can't hide it from me. If you lie again... if you lie, I'll tell her. I'll tell mother everything."

Aegon agreed readily, chin hooking over Aemond's head. He rocked his brother in his arms and met his uncle's gaze as the man narrowed his eyes.

Daemon. Of course. His uncle was too nosy for his own good. Too nosy for Aegon's good as well.

And Jace. His nephew stood half a step behind his stepfather, flanked by several guards. All of them with black cloaks. Scowling. Jace was scowling.

"What's going on?" his mother's voice rang out and Aegon's head whipped around. Aemond took a quick step back, rubbing at his face as she quirked a brow, "A servant said you wanted to see me, Aemond?"

The queen stood before them, huddled beneath a thick golden robe in the threshold of the king's chambers. She held the fabric closed, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she surveyed them. Aegon's nose wrinkled as he looked her over.

Her hair was messy, her curls mussed and the braid she'd had pinned up was now loose around her neck. The color on her lips was smeared too.

Glancing over his shoulder, Aegon glared at the guards. They all turned, putting their back to the queen, same as Ser Arryk. At the door, Ser Harrold had his head turned to the side.

Jace's cheeks were flushed as he stared resolutely at the floor, but Daemon had no such shame. He was looking openly at the queen. Gaze roaming her figure until Aegon took a purposeful step sideways, blocking his view.

"I... I was looking for Aegon," Aemond stumbled over the lie, head ducked low under their mother's attention. He cringed, arms crossing behind his back as he straightened, "I thought you would know where he was."

Their mother narrowed her eyes. Her brow furrowed and her lips pursed as her gaze shifted to Aegon, "Is that so?"

With a quick nod, Aegon rocked forward on the balls of his feet, laughing, "I was convalescing with my nephews in their nursery." He tilted his head and brushed a hand through Aemond's hair, "My little brother is a bit jealous of all the time I've been spending with Joffrey, I think, so I've come to fix that."

As expected, Aemond squawked, head snapping up, "I am not!" He stomped his foot and glared at Aegon, "Joffrey is five! I am not jealous of a child!"

Clicking his tongue, Aegon squinted at him, "If you say so, brother."

That garnered even more protest. His brother began to rant, giving none of the other men in the hall time to speak up as he called Aegon childish and silly. An absolute menace!

"While I am sure Prince Aegon's antics rightfully deserve your frustration, Prince Aemond..."

The gruff voice behind them had Aegon's shoulders rolling back. He cursed in Valyrian under his breath as their grandfather strolled forward. He bowed low to their mother before turning around to glare daggers at Daemon.

"...I do not think now is the time or place," Otto Hightower finished, lips pursed tight as his heels clicked together. Aemond flushed and Aegon looked skyward, head shaking.

"We're sorry to have bothered you, mother," Aegon spoke softly, bowing his head. She nodded slowly. A flush rising on her cheeks as she glanced from her father down to her clothes.

The queen's mask falling away as she tucked some hair behind her ears. Her voice was quiet, gentle as she beckoned him and Aemond forward. She cupped each of their faces in her hands.

"You're certain there's nothing the matter?" she asked them. Aemond shook his head and avoided eye contact. Their mother kissed his forehead and turned to Aegon.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Aegon assured her with a clipped nod. She sighed, thumb grazing over his cheek, over his bruises.

"You ought to be resting, Aegon," his mother sighed, "You needn't shield me from it, whatever it is." He said nothing. Aemond glanced his way and Aegon swallowed, chin rising.

She kissed his forehead next, hand dropping lightly to his shoulder as he smiled at her. He pushed his hair back and his mother's gaze dropped to his neck.

To the mark on the right side, below his ear.

Small. Hardly noticeable.

Jace's mark.

The only one he'd left on Aegon from their time with the dragons the night before. He flushed crimson as her gaze narrowed on it and then dropped to his clothes.

"You're not wearing shoes..." the queen pursed her lips. He looked pointedly at her own feet and her missing slippers.

"I was napping," Aegon cleared his throat, shrugging his shoulders. He inclined his head back towards Ser Arryk, who was holding his doublet and sword in one hand and his shoes in the other.

"Take your brother back to our rooms, Aemond," the queen looked sharply at his brother, then back at the mark on his neck, "I want him to sleep properly tonight, no distractions."

Aemond agreed readily, already smirking, "Yes, mother." The bastard grinned at Aegon as he tossed his hair back, "I'll see to it he gets plenty of rest."

Groaning, Aegon did not have time to properly whine or complain before she ducked back into the king's chambers. He shoved at Aemond's shoulders as his brother snickered, "Shut up! I am not above sneaking out just to spite you!"

"I don't believe you've ever required an excuse, your grace," Otto drawled and they both turned around to find their grandfather in a stand off with Daemon. His hands clasped tightly behind his back. "But I would advise against any adventures on your part this evening."

The Hightower guards stood behind the Targaryen ones. Stone faced as their lord glowered at Daemon. Rhaenyra's guards had closed ranks around Jace. Daemon had taken a half step in front of the younger prince and Aegon's hand snapped out to grab Aemond's.

His eyes sought out Ser Arryk. With a quick bob of his head, Aegon managed to signal the knight. In moments, his kingsguard was standing beside him, holding out his doublet and dropping Aegon's shoes in front of him.

"An honorable man averts his gaze when a lady in her nightclothes is present," Otto snapped at Daemon, hands wringing and nose wrinkling, "A queen even more so."

"If my brother's wife wanted privacy, she ought to have had her sons brought inside," Daemon scoffed, eyes rolling. "And besides," he crossed his arms, a sneer twisting at his face, "Viserys never cared when I saw Aemma in such a state, I doubt he cares now with Alicent."

Aegon scowled, head rising as he secured his sword at his waist. His grandfather's spine straightened, but he didn't have a chance to respond.

"Did you gawk at Queen Aemma as you do my mother?" Aegon asked his uncle, eyes narrowing on the man. The hallway went silent. His grandfather turned to look at him, eyebrow arching.

"That is..." Daemon cleared his throat, arms dropping to his side. His cheeks reddened and Aegon laughed darkly.

He leaned forward, arms spreading wide in an exaggerated shrug, "Perhaps we ought to ask your wife? I'm sure she'd be very interested in the answer."

Behind Daemon, Jace huffed, "I certainly am." Inhaling slowly, Daemon inclined his head forward in the worst bow Aegon had ever seen.

"You're welcome to return with us, should you wish to ask her yourself," Daemon managed to spit the words out without a hint of derision in his voice, even as his eyes darkened with anger.

"My mother was quite clear about where I'm to spend my night, I'm afraid," Aegon rocked back on his heels. He shifted slightly, aligning himself with his grandfather as he stood in front of his brother.

With a clipped nod, Daemon spun around. He grabbed Jace by the arm, hauling him off towards Rhaenyra's rooms before the younger man could protest. Which he did. Loudly.

"Ah, your grace," one of the Targaryen guards lingered, bowing his head low as he approached them. His cheeks flushed as he held out the letter Aegon had left in the nursery, "Prince Joffrey wanted to be sure you didn't forget this."

"Thank you, ser," Aegon snatched it up quickly and tucked it into his doublet. His grandfather's forehead wrinkling as he dismissed the guard.

They were left alone then. Just the three of them. Plus the kingsguards. And his grandfather's knights.

A hand reached out, tipping his chin up. Aegon flinched as his grandfather turned his head. The man clicked his tongue, "They'll grow darker still, before they look better." Aegon swallowed, nodding slowly.

His brother was only steps away, as tense as a bow string. Aegon glanced towards the kingsguard. Ser Arryk was frowning slightly, but Ser Harrold was squinting at them.

"Have you given any thought to entering the tourney?" his grandfather asked. Aegon shook his head and the Hand hummed. "With your injuries, I wouldn't advise it, of course, but there has been some interest in seeing you fight again, since your bout with Daemon in the training yard."

"Mother wouldn't like it," Aemond pipped up, rolling his shoulders back, "She's asked us both not to enter tourneys, and Aegon always does what mother asks."

Their grandfather smiled as he dropped his hand. He chuckled, nodding to Aemond, "As he should. Your mother is the queen." His brother hummed as the Hand surveyed him.

"Tourneys are rather boring anyway," Aegon stretched his arms up, exaggerating a yawn, "I'd much rather be flying Sunfyre."

The Hand's attention flicked back to him and the man frowned. An arm gestured towards his knights, "We ought to see you both to bed, regardless."

"Actually, lord hand," Ser Harrold spoke up as they started to walk. Otto looked back at him and the kingsguard smiled tightly, "Might I have a word? Privately?"

"I shall escort them both to the queen's chambers," Ser Arryk stepped forward quickly, already ushering them down the hall as Ser Harrold narrowed his eyes on their grandfather.

Aemond only waited till they turned the corner before elbowing him gently, "What did the guard give you?"

Flashing him a smile, Aegon pulled the letter out. He handed it to his brother, "I wrote it in the nursery. Joffrey's letter is hidden inside."

"Why?" Aemond arched a brow, turning the thick bundle of paper over in his hand.

"Well, Daeron likes surprises," Aegon shrugged. He frowned then, eyebrows furrowing, "And, well, has he ever mentioned getting a letter from Rhaenyra before?"

His brother's head snapped up, eye wide and lashes fluttering. The sapphire gleamed as it caught the light of the torches in the hallways. They strolled through the empty passageways.

No one but them and Ser Arryk in sight. No other footsteps echoed off the stone.

"She said she's written him before, but never gotten a response," Aegon whispered even so, glancing around them. Aemond's lips puckered.

"Do you... do you think the Hightowers are keeping the letters from him?" Aemond asked, quirking a brow.

Aegon hummed as they came upon their mother's door. Another kingsguard stood sentry. The sun had set. Cole had long since been relieved.

"I'll stay in tonight, Ser Arryk," Aegon promised as he paused in the doorway. He flashed the knight a quick smile, "You should rest as well, I have plans for tomorrow. Early."

"As you say, your grace," Ser Arryk bowed low. He exchanged a brief word with the other kingsguard as Aegon closed the door.

He followed Aemond to his room, tucking the letter back into his doublet once he'd shed the garment. Perched on the bed, Aegon watched his brother ready himself for bed.

"I think..." Aegon breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. He fell back against the bed, choosing his words carefully, "I think someone at court might have a vested interest in keeping Daeron from having a relationship with Rhaenyra or her sons."

The walls in the Red Keep had ears. They both knew that. Aemond crawled onto the bed. He didn't kick Aegon off, just sat there, arms around his knees. Staring down at him. Waiting for the rest.

"Grandfather didn't let me send letters to Dragonstone, when he first arrived," Aegon whispered, turning on his side.

Aemond nodded, and a hand combed through his hair as his brother sighed, "I remember. You were upset that none of them would... would write you back, when you snuck letters to the maesters anyway."

Frowning, Aegon traced the seam along the side of his brother's nightshirt. He'd thought his nephews were angry with him, after the fight in the yard. His mother's worries had taken on a sharper edge. And then Driftmark...

"I'm sorry," Aegon looked up at Aemond, turning on his back, "I shouldn't have used Driftmark against you earlier. That... it wasn't fair of me."

"Nothing in life is fair, brother," Aemond snorted, leaning back against his headboard. His arms crossed and his head turned towards the window. "I'm well accustomed to it."

Sitting up, Aegon crawled closer. He wrapped himself around his brother, pressing his forehead to Aemond's temple. "I'd do it again, you know." Aemond stiffened. "I'll always protect you, little brother, however I can."

Aemond sunk down, laying his head on Aegon's chest. He exhaled slowly, "I know." A hand rose to the tie on top of his shirt, tugging it open. "You do it all the time."

"He... he didn't... he didn't hit you, did he?" Aegon asked quietly, breath shaking, "While I was in the Stepstones?" Aemond shook his head and Aegon breathed out, ducking his head to Aemond's. "Good."

"If he did, would you tell mother?" Aemond asked, finger tracing the bruise on Aegon's collarbone. His voice was quiet. The softest whisper.

Aegon's was the same, "No." He squeezed Aemond closer, pulling his brother fully into his arms. "I'd kill him."

The finger paused. Aemond's head tilted back, "What about Daeron though?"

"Dragons are faster than ravens," Aegon hummed and kissed his forehead, "I'd burn the Hightower to get him back, if I had to." He laid his cheek on top of Aemond's head.

Sometimes, he thought about doing it anyway. Taking Sunfyre, getting his brother back. Sometimes, he even thought about burning the Tower of the Hand. Or just the Hand.

"He's trying to protect us though, in his own way." Aegon combed Aemond's hair back behind his ears. It was long, halfway down his back already.

"He hurts you," Aemond huffed, hand fisting in Aegon's shirt, "That doesn't help."

It did actually. His mother's cousin had proven that. He'd been upset by Aegon's injuries, supposedly received defending Rhaenyra's son.

The bruises, Aemond's eye. His grandfather had cast them as the king's true heirs, mistreated and neglected in favor of Rhaenyra's children. In favor of supposed bastards. Aegon bet his grandfather was drawing more support for Aegon's claim at that very moment.

"He's trying to forge a king from a useless drunkard," Aegon mumbled, shoulders sagging. "Not an easy task, I'm sure."

"You're not useless," Aemond grumbled as he shifted the rest of the way down, laying his head on his pillow. He glared at the ceiling as Aegon settled beside him.

Drawing his brother back in, Aegon chuckled as Aemond quickly curled into his side. No protest. No pretense. Simply curling around Aegon, face pressed to his shoulder. Just as Joffrey had done.

He continued petting at his brother's hair. Listening to his breathing, watching the slow rise and fall.

"I'm not a king either," Aegon sighed as Aemond's breathing leveled out. He glanced towards the window.

A dragon's silhouette passed by. Green scales bright as Vermax soured through the moonlight. Aegon smiled to himself.

He didn't need to be a king. His grandfather would have to accept that. Eventually. Whether the man wanted to or not.

And it was decidedly not, Aegon would wager.

Chapter Text

The door of the bath opened and Aegon startled. He tucked his left arm behind his back reflexively as he knelt down in the pool of water. It splashed around him and he moved towards the edge of the pool.

"I made you some tea," Helaena said as she strolled in. Aegon flushed even as she kept her gaze on the ceiling. A cup was set beside his towel in front of him. "Do you want something to eat?"

"You are aware I'm naked right now, yes?" Aegon quirked a brow, cheeks burning. She hummed.

A hand rose up to push her hair back behind her ear as she walked back to the door. She turned towards him, palm on the handle, "Is that a yes or no to breakfast? You need to eat. I could ask them to bring you something quickly, before you leave."

With a sigh, Aegon nodded, "Yes, I'll eat. Whatever's ready when I'm done." He rubbed absently at his neck with his right hand, "Nothing sweet though."

"I know," Helaena waved him off and slipped from the room. Aegon sunk down into the water with a huff.

His left side throbbed a bit. The water was warm. Kept that way by some complex system of pipes and furnaces that no one quite understood. No one alive anyway. Maegor had seen to that.

Books on Dragonstone held the secrets of Valyria's various building methods. Perhaps one of them covered plumbing. It could be in the king's rooms at that very moment.

Aegon had no way of knowing and he had little interest in discovering it either. All he cared about was the way his pain ebbed away as the heat pressed against his bruises.

He'd woken with stiff limbs and a dull ache below his stomach. The water helped with the first, but not the second.

The tea was the same as the day before. Some sort of herbal blend, the bitter taste masked by something spicy that Aegon quite liked. He sipped it slowly. His fingers tingled. His stomach settled a bit, the ache dulling.

A few minutes more then. With his tea and his bath, heat warming him from the inside out and the outside in.

Aegon lingered significantly longer than he intended before finally dragging himself from the pool. He dressed quickly. As nondescript as he dared.

"Has mother returned yet?" Aegon asked his sister as he joined her in the receiving room. She nibbled at a piece of toast, head shaking.

A full spread would be brought up later, when the sun had risen fully and the castle had properly woken. Aegon would not be here when that occurred.

"Was the tea okay?" Helaena stared at him, gaze unblinking as she sipped at her cup. The tea in its depths was noticeably different than the onr she'd made for him. A paler color.

"Yes," Aegon snatched up an apple. He bit into it, squinting at her, "Why? Is it special or something?"

She gave a quick nod, head bobbing as she grinned, "It is! I found the recipe and brewed it myself."

"Well, I like it," Aegon shrugged, taking another bite as he perched on the table. His sister preened. "Does that mean I get more?"

"Whenever you like," Helaena smiled, fingers twitching over the tablecloth as she bounced in her seat. Pausing mid bite, Aegon narrowed his eyes on her as she produced a little bag from her skirts.

Helaena held his gaze as she stood to retrieve the kettle in the fire just as it began to whistle. It meant very little, truly. Helaena was not a woman who cowered. He'd seen her stare down the king and the Hand on several occassions even, entirely unfazed even as they frowned at her. Aegon stood no chance.

"Would you like some now?" Helaena asked, fluttering her lashes as she prepared the cup. He puckered his lips, whining softly. She laughed again, grin wide as she set the tea in front of him, "Something wrong brother?"

"No." Aegon huffed as he grabbed the cup. He pushed off from the table and stole Helaena's toast with his other hand. He took a bit as he turned to walk backwards, still cradling the tea in his palm, "But I am suspicious."

She hummed, chin in her hand. Helaena's gaze was vaguely unfocused, lingering on a spot over his shoulder, "You're not the only one."

With a low bow, Aegon spun back around. He dipped out of his mother's apartments and past the kingsguard. It was the same one as the night before, which meant they'd not shifted to their usual rotation.

Aegon headed for the rookery first, sipping at his tea and nibbling at the toast. He liked the tea better than the food. The flavor nearly as sharp as a well-aged Arbor Red. None of the spices were the same, and it wasn't so tart, but it left a pleasant buzz on his tongue just the same.

With pointed instructions, Aegon handed his letter for Daeron over to one of the maester's assistance tending to the ravens. A young maester with only a few links on his notably short chain. He was skittish and his hands shook the entire time.

Not a particularly great sign to begin with. Aegon watched with narrowed eyes as the raven was prepared and his message sent off. When the young man furrowed his brow at Aegon and pursed his lips, well, Aegon couldn't help himself.

He slurped the last of his tea, audibly, before smacking his lips together. With a shrug, Aegon plastered on a bright smile, "I wanted to be sure my message was sent properly. Is that an issue?"

"Oh, uh, no, your grace," the would-be maester stumbled over his words, face flushing. The man ducked his head, "Maester Mellos likes for the ravens to go out at the same time is all, if they're heading for the same place." Thumbs twiddled as the man fidgeted, "Unless it's an emergency, of course."

"Well," Aegon drawled, tossing his empty cup at the man. The maester yelped, catching it with a fumble as Aegon grinned, viciously, "I really wanted to see my message sent to my baby brother."

Tossing his hair over his shoulder, Aegon marched out. A thin line of light was beginning to bubble up on the horizon as he made his way to the White Sword Tower next.

If he wanted his mother to remain calm and healthy, Aegon had to submit to the arduous reality of taking a kingsguard with him when he went into the city. Jace would likely grumble less when he learned of Aegon's planned trip outside the Red Keep as well.

His nephew probably wouldn't find out until Aegon was already back so this was particularly thoughtful of him. Responsible even. Or some other such nonsense like that.

Even his grandfather might manage a bit of pleasure or pride really. Otto had told him to start behaving more like a proper lordling, with vassals and guards and such. This was close enough, surely.

Aegon didn't bother knocking as he strolled into the circular room, but he did refrain from climbing the stairs. The kingsguard could keep their privacy, this time. Instead, he kicked his feet up on the table and inhaled sharply.

"Ser Arryk!" Aegon yelled, cackling as several thumps immediately banged against the ceiling from the floor above. Clattering and cursing shortly followed.

His kingsguard appeared at the base of the stairs in his nightclothes, expression owlish as he blinked slowly at Aegon, "Your grace?"

"I'm going into the city as soon as the sun is up," Aegon dropped his feet to the floor with a flourish and stood. Ser Arryk arched a brow. Hands clasped behind his back, Aegon rocked forward on the balls of his feet, smirking, "I assumed you'd want to accompany me."

"Is this what your cooperation looks like?" Cole grumbled as he appeared behind Ser Arryk, hand scrubbing over his face. Hair sticking up oddly.

"I suppose," Aegon hummed, avoiding Cole's gaze as the man squinted at him.

A hand clapped at Ser Arryk's shoulder as his brother stumbled past the other two. He yawned, "Bet you two miss the hide and seek now."

Cole scowled and Ser Arryk snorted, "No. This is better." Aegon clicked his tongue, head shaking.

"I'll have to work on that then," Aegon sighed and took a step back towards the door.

All three knights narrowed their eyes on him. He spun around, cloak flying out. With his nose in the air, Aegon strolled towards the door.

"I'll be with Sunfyre. I want to sneak in a morning flight before the shops in Cobbler's Square open."

His announcement garnered significant sputtering as Aegon swept from the tower with a skip in his step. He pursed his lips to hide a giggle as Cole groaned, "Did he just say Cobbler's Square?"

The day hadn't really begun until he'd annoyed Cole.

Once he turned a corner, Aegon took off running for the dragon yard. Very few people were awake and the servants scattered about preparing the castle for the day were easy enough to avoid.

Sunfyre greeted him with a cheerful shriek the moment he arrived and Aegon launched himself at the dragon, sinking into the beast's warmth. He moaned as his left side gave a low throb. Pressing his face to golden scales, Aegon keened, "Wanna go flying, my love?"

A flutter of wings and a nudge from Sunfyre's maw were his answer. Aegon grinned as his dragon tittered. Joy bubbling in his chest to match the golden beast.

The dragon he shared the yard with was less enthused. Vermax growled, nostrils flaring and tail whipping around to snap at Sunfyre. His eyes never opened and he coiled tighter.

"Bit like Aemond in the morning, isn't he?" Aegon whispered and Sunfyre shrieked again.

They rose into the air soon after, circling the Red Keep as the first trickles of sunlight broke over the Blackwater.

The sky was a brilliant sight, yellow streaking across the horizon, bleeding into the inky black of a winter morning. Sunfyre soared low over the water and Aegon basked in the chilly air. The Blackwater stretched beneath them. Ice cracking and crumbling as Sunfyre skimmed his tail across the surface.

Nothing compared to flying.

Aegon closed his eyes, arms spread wide. He inhaled slowly, exhaled as Sunfyre puffed out his chest. Leaning over to press a hand to golden scales, Aegon sighed.

Content. His dragon was content.

Just as he was, sinking into that syrupy joy that was rising to the surface. Sunfyre arced up, flying high as he let loose a loud roar, greeting the sun as it finally appeared, it's light blinding.

Golden flames filled the air and Aegon laughed, tossing his head back as they spun. Sunfyre tucked his wings in and Aegon held tight. His hair tossed about, falling into his face. He blew it out of his eyes with a huff when they returned to the keep.

His joy was quickly replaced with annoyance as Sunfyre landed.

"Your grace," Ser Arryk bowed his head. Vermax growled again as the ground shook faintly beneath Sunfyre's weight. The green dragon huffed and curled away from them.

The knights behind Ser Arryk took a preemptive step back.

All three of them.

"What's this?" Aegon inclined his head towards the knights as he dropped from his saddle. Sunfyre grumbled, nostrils flaring.

Ser Arryk's lips twitched up, "Your escort, my prince." Nose wrinkling, Aegon scowled. His kingsguard arched a brow, "You said you were planning to visit Cobbler's Square yes?"

Head falling back, Aegon groaned. He gestured down at his simple doublet, spinning vaguely as he huffed, "That was your cue to wear your less conspicuous cloak!"

"I'm afraid that cloak is being washed, your grace," Ser Arryk smirked at him. Aegon scowled. The knight laughed, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

"Who ordered this?" Aegon demanded, arms gesturing wide as he surveyed the three knights.

They all had different armor. Their doublets different styles, cloaks different colors.

Bannerman for different houses.

Only one had a Targaryen dragon, and his cloak was black. Another had a red crab. The last wore grey, and fur.

Targaryen. Celtigar. Stark.

An odd mix. One that betrayed exactly where they'd come from.

"The Princess of Dragonstone was quite insistent," Ser Arryk supplied with a clipped nod. Aegon crossed his arms. "Until a personal guard is established for you, she has asked that I pull from her retinue or the queen's to protect you when you leave the Red Keep."

"No." Aegon shooked his head. Sunfyre grumbled behind him. Shifting closer, head dropping low.

Vermax reared up suddenly. His roar loud and his flames hot as they shot straight up into the air. Aegon's head whipped around, stepping back towards Sunfyre.

A voice rang out, gruff with sleep and half a growl, "You're taking the guards, Egg."

Something twisted in his gut as Jace walked into the yard. His hair stuck up at odd angles. He wore only a loose shirt and trousers.

Aegon pursed his lips, shoulders hunching just slightly as a flush rose on his cheeks.

Jace was accompanied by several knights with the Velaryon seahorse on their chest. He barely spared them a glance, eyes closed as he waved them back. The guards all stood at attention in the open corridors around the yard as Jace approached him.

The heat pulsing from his body had nothing to do with his mark. Or Sunfyre.

"I don't need-" Aegon started, voice breathy. He snapped his mouth shut as Vermax growled.

Dark eyes opened as Jace scowled directly at him. He pushed a hand through his messy curls and Aegon bit his lip. That dull ache from earlier returned witha vengence.

"Your face says otherwise," Jace drawled, arms crossed over his chest. He turned his head. With a quick nod, one of the Velaryons joined the knights behind Ser Arryk.

Brow furrowing, Aegon frowned as Jace looked back at him. His cheeks burned under his nephew's close scrutiny. With a huff, Aegon rubbed at his neck, "This is ridiculous-"

Vermax rose up, one paw stomping into the dirt, claws digging in. He screeched at them. Aegon's eyes fluttered. Sunfyre nudged at his back and he glanced up.

"You're suppose to be on my side!" Aegon reminded the dragon, but Sunfyre merely tittered. Jace inclined his head again and another Velaryon joined Ser Arryk.

"Every protest earns you another guard," Jace told him, pausing in his glare only to yawn. His jaw nearly dislocating before he scrubbed a hand down his face. "Keep going. My grandmother sent plenty of knights."

"I thought those knights were for protecting your siblings..." Aegon grumbled, lips puckering into a pout.

With a hum, Jace shrugged, "She gave me command, and as far as I'm concerned, keeping you safe helps keep my brothers safe." He blinked slowly, squinting at Ser Arryk, "Was that a protest or not?"

"No!" Aegon squawked, hands flying up. He glared at his kingsguard as the man grinned. "It was a clarifying question!" Aegon insisted. His shoulders hunched as Jace surveyed him. "I'll take the knights..."

"Good," Jace nodded sharply and turned on his heels. He grumbled something about it being far too early as he stalked out of the yard.

The ground shook once more as Vermax plopped back down. Sunfyre approached the beast, nosing at his side even as a green tail came up to slap at his face. Vermax groused, neck sliding across the ground as he coiled up.

"Are you ready, your grace?" Ser Arryk asked, arms clasped behind his back. Aegon aimed his best scathing look at the knight.

It had no effect.

Muttering under his breath, Aegon started for the gate. He found himself surrounded for his entire walk to Cobbler's Square.

Five knights. Six with Ser Arryk.

He'd never gone anywhere with such an escort. Even on the hunts the king hosted in his youth, Aegon had only been required to keep one knight with him. Maybe two.

"You know, half the point of going this early was to avoid attention," Aegon ducked closer to Ser Arryk's back to whisper harshly in his ear.

The man hummed. He paid no mind to all the eyes they garnered. Literally everyone they passed on the empty streets paused to gawk at them. Snow crunched audibly under their feet, the knights' foosteps heavy under their armor.

"I am exceptionally good at navigating this city by myself!" Aegon reminded him, throwing his hands up and tugging on the kingsguard's white cloak, "And this is not how I like to do it!"

Another hum. This one vaguely huffy as Ser Arryk drawled, "Of this, I am acutely aware, your grace." Aegon squawked and the man finally turned his head to look at Aegon over his shoulder, "You are welcome to mention your complaints to Ser Harrold or Princess Rhaenyra at your earliest convenience."

Aegon snorted and fell back a step, returning to the center of the flock of knights. He crossed his arms, whining, "Yeah, because that'll go so well for me!"

His sarcasm went unappreciated. As did his groan when Ser Arryk directed the knights to take up flanking positions around the square when they arrived.

One of the Velaryons did smirk though. And Aegon swore the Celtigar hid a laugh in his arm rather than a cough.

Neither fact made him feel better.

The square was mostly empty. Aegon appreciated that as he caught sight of the damage. His chest tightened.

While the bodies had been removed, the scorch marks remained on the ground. A few of the buildings nearer to the Street of Steel had matching marks on their walls. Roofs were covered in tarps, awaiting repairs.

Throat bobbing, Aegon stared at the one building with wood boarding up their burnt windows. Ser Arryk pressed a hand to his shoulder and he startled, flinching away. The knight pursed his lips.

"I'm fine," Aegon said reflexively before ducking his head and darting towards the opposite end of the square. The leatherworker's shop hadn't opened yet, but the door swung open when Aegon knocked regardless.

"Your grace," the artisan's apprentice bowed low as he ushered him inside. Ser Arryk was the only one who followed him inside. Small mercies.

Aegon fidgeted at the counter until the shop owner came up from the back. He held four sets of vambraces in his hand. Two black. Two blue.

"They turned out quite well, in my opinion, your grace," the artisan smiled as he laid out the vambraces for Aegon's inspection. He was almost preening, "I believe you will be most pleased."

"I am," Aegon agreed as he traced a finger over the design on Daeron's set. He followed the curve of each dragon's wings. Vhagar. Dreamfyre. Tessarion.

The blue was a good match to the Blue Queen's scales, so far as Aegon could remember. His youngest brother's dragon had already been a young dragon when Aegon had known her. Bigger than Sunfyre was now even.

Small for her age, according to the dragonkeepers, but with a sweet nature. Friendly. With bright scales to match her cheerful expressions.

Aegon smiled to himself. Daeron had been the same, when he was little. Quick to laugh, to smile.

Like his little nephew, toddling about with his own blue dragon in his nursery badk at the Red Keep. His mother had said Daeron reminded her the most of Aegon as a baby. Friendly. Adventurous.

"Not quite so clingy though..." Aegon mumbled as his finger finally moved to the last dragon, to Sunfyre.

Those had been Laenor's words. A joke whispered to Rhaenyra as they traded a look in some faint memory of his. The two of them smiling as Aegon had wrapped himself around his mother, holding Daeron as she held Aemond.

It was his grandfather's greatest frustration. The biggest hurdle to pushing Aegon's claim. He complained about it constantly.

Aegon always looked for his mother.

At court. At the Small Council meetings. Even as his dragon was dropping bodies from the sky. He looked for her, to her. A child checking that his mother was still there.

The courtiers were fond of squealing about it, about him, every time his mother even so much as looked at a baby. Now they even did it when Aegon looked at a baby, or played with Joffrey. Or existed in the same room as some eligible maiden.

Rhaenyra did not flaunt her children at court. Not like the king had done with them. His earliest memories were of the Great Hall, being passed from lady to lady.

He'd been an adorable baby, always demanding to be held, smiling at his mother and holding a little dragon toy. Black, like Balerion, but Aegon had always called it Syrax instead.

The lord who'd told that story had been dismissed from court quite quickly, as Aegon recalled.

"Your work is exceptional," Aegon told the artisan as his finger moved further down the design, to the empty space along the top of the wrist.

The man did preen now. A smug grin on his face as Aegon assessed the twisting scroll design edging the entire piece. Meant to mimic dragons coiling around one another, Aegon would wager.

It was beautiful, truly, and he said as much. He did not filter his praise even as his gaze lingered on the spot directly at the center of the wrist.

At the spot in front of Sunfyre.

"Could you... could you add a stone here?" Aegon asked, swallowing thickly as he glanced up again, fluttering his lashes even as the leatherworker frowned.

The man stepped forward to bow his head over the piece, "A stone, your grace?"

"Yes? I... something like a gem perhaps. Small, but..." Aegon tapped at the spot, chin rising, "Green."

His mother's smile flashed in his mind. Her eyes ringed red. Cheeks flushed as tears streamed down her face.

"Yes," Aegon confirmed, voice firmer as he straightened up. His gaze flickered over the four sets of vambraces, over the four dragons carefully worked into the leather of each one.

Dragons did not fly aimlessly. Not ever. They flew towards something. Around it.

"It can be done," the man tilted his head, squinting at the leather. His lips twitched as he picked up one of the vambraces. "I can have a selection of stones added to the whole wrist if-"

Aegon shook his head, "No. Just... just the one." He tapped at the spot he wanted. Directly in front of the lead dragon.

He'd placed Sunfyre at the front, when he'd first commissioned it. He was the eldest, the ones his siblings followed.

But he was not flying aimlessly.

The artisan presented him a selection of tiny gemstones that could be sewn into place. Aegon picked the ones that most reminded him of his mother.

Each of them a deep green. The color of her gowns and their bright fabrics. The color he'd searched for, when his world had gone hazy and his throat tight.

His waypoint. Theirs.

They were her dragons. Her clutch. The four of them. And they'd all fly towards her, to the queen.

"I'll pay extra, if you can finish it now," Aegon pleaded and the man agreed readily before shooing them from the shop. An hour, he'd said, perhaps two.

It would be cutting it close, with the Hightowers leaving. But they'd been staying at the Red Keep, in the Tower of the Hand as guests of his grandfather.

"Their procession of carts and carriages will come through here, if they leave before I return," Aegon stretched his arms up, folding them behind his head as he stood outside the shop.

Cobbler's Square didn't have a tavern.

He glanced towards the scorched shops, ambling closer. Ser Arryk made a low sound in the back of his throat.

"I have another gift I need to get," Aegon told him, arms falling to his side as he headed for the Street of Steel.

A quick gesture from Ser Arryk and the other five knights closed rank around them. His kingsguard remained at his back. A half step behind Aegon, hovering as they walked through the remnants of Sunfyre's flames.

"Where are we going exactly?" Ser Arryk asked as they started up Visenya's Hill. The sun was up now, fully risen over the horizon, even as it hung low in the sky.

Throngs of people had begun to traverse the Street of Steel. Forges had been lit. Shops opened. The gaggle of knights around him earned themselves a wide berth, but it was only a matter of time before the knights would be physically pushing people out of their way.

As if he needed more help endearing himself to the smallfolk....

"A shop I stopped in with Luke," Aegon pointed towards the building in question as it came in to view. The window display full of wooden toys. Aegon smiled, "The woodworker there, she makes proper dragons."

A quick nod and then Ser Arryk made a gesture with his hands that had the knights snapping in to action. A path was cleared. Guard positions taken up by the shop and across the street.

Eyes fluttering, Aegon paused. He arched a brow as Ser Arryk ushered him forward. The man was smirking.

"This is why everyone complained about the knights at court yesterday," Aegon huffed as he headed for the door.

"That's how you know the knights did their job right," Ser Arryk said, chin rising as Aegon ducked into the shop. He followed right behind him, leaving the other knights outside, just like before.

The shopkeeper startled and sunk into a low curtsy the moment she saw them. Her voice shook, "Your grace! You honor me with your visit."

When he returned to the leatherworker's shop over an hour later, the bag he'd brought with him was ladden with wooden toys. Significantly more than he'd intended, more than just a replacement for the blood-stained toy sitting on his dresser still.

A Syrax and a Caraxes that were nearly the same size as the actual Stormcloud, to start. He'd left the artist with a detailed diagram for a Stormcloud too. She'd shown him several paints and he'd carefully selected each color for the scales and the wings, everything in between.

His little shadow would have a near identical wooden model of his dragon. Stormcloud's shadow. Aegon had already promised to return before Joffrey's nameday to commission a Tyraxes to match.

"Will you buy Prince Joffrey a Syrax and a Caraxes as well?" Ser Arryk asked as they started back for the Red Keep. One of the Velaryon knights stiffened for half a second when Aegon scoffed.

"Joff will get Seasmoke instead, obviously," Aegon clicked his tongue. The Velaryon knight relaxed. Aegon hummed, lips pursing, "And Sunfyre. I think he'd like that."

Ser Arryk chortled, head shaking as he smiled, "Yes, your grace, I believe he would."

Servants and guards were crisscrossing the main courtyard when they walked through the gates. Horses were saddled, carts filled. Lady Hightower was using a stool to step up into a carriage. Her lady's maid right behind her.

On the steps of the Red Keep, various lords and ladies stood. Some smiling, others waving. All of it dripping with falsehood as their gazes lingered not on Lord Hightower, but on the queen.

"It's no trouble at all, cousin," Ormund was laughing boisterously and waving a servant over. "I am glad it was finished in time to return with us. Prince Daeron will certainly be excited to try out the new saddle come spring."

"Of course," the queen smiled, lips pursed tight and jaw clenched as she forced a laugh, "We are fortunate, the king and I, to know our son is in such good hands."

Not so fortunate that the king had bothered to show up to see the Hightowers off. A fact Aegon was surely not the only one to notice.

Amongst the sea of bright colors from the courtiers, only three wore the deep burgundy of House Targaryen. Rhaenyra and Daemon's daughters, standing at the top of the steps, flanked by a significant amount of Velaryon blue. Which only made it more obvious that they stood alone up there.

Aegon's arrival had not gone unnoticed either. Nor had his litany of guards. Ser Arryk carved out another path for him with a quick gesture to the knights, right up to Lord Hightower.

"Prince Aegon!" Ormund greeted him with a shallow bow and a clap on the shoulder. Far more familiar than was truly necessary, but Aegon merely smiled as the hand squeezed.

He swallowed back a shout as his bruises screamed beneath the not-so-gentle touch. Ser Arryk drew closer, shifting to stand on his left side, forcing Ormund a half step away.

The hand dropped and another little bow followed it, "I had worried I may not see you again before our departure, my prince. How are you feeling?"

"Well enough," Aegon waved him off and nodded towards the large box being loaded onto a nearby cart.

A Targaryen dragon was emblazoned on the leather, with the dragonkeepers' sigil just below. It's massive size betrayed it's contents and Aegon's eyes flickered to his mother, narrowing briefly on her twisting fingers.

"A new saddle for Tessarion then?" Aegon arched a brow. She flushed, nodding sharply. A hand rose to her throat, twitching at her necklace.

"Lord Ormund was kind enough to bring her new measurements for me when he arrived. The dragonkeepers retrofitted one of Syrax's saddles with some additional straps and harnesses." She flashed a smiled at him. "Safer, they said. And a bit like yours, I believe."

Ormund chuckled, loud and boisterous still. A noise which was beginning to grate on Aegon's ears as the man joked, "I hope Prince Daeron is not taking too much after his brother, you grace." His smile twitched, tightening as he glanced nervously at Aegon, "I have seen the way you and your beast fly, I am not so sure Oldtown is ready for such theatrics."

His mother paled, mouth falling open. Her gaze snapped to Aegon, "You haven't told him about all those twists and flips you do, have you?" Voice shaking, she gasped, "He's far too young for such-"

"I haven't, mother, not to worry," Aegon assured her. He reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. He caught a flash of silver hair in his periphery and grinned widely, "I can't teach Daeron something before I teach Aemond. He'd be very cross! Probably start stomping around like Vermax even!"

No shout rose from Rhaenyra's position, so Jace wasn't amongst the sea of blue doublets. A giggle he recognized as Luke's was joined by one from Rhaena. The two ducking their heads together as a huff sounded from behind him.

"Oh... is that you Aem?" Aegon didn't turn his head, just grinned wider. "I hadn't realized you were here..." He winked at Lord Ormund as his brother circled around to stand on their mother's other side. Arms crossed and nose wrinkled in a scowl. The lord's laughter continued, his amusement echoing around the courtyard.

"Vhagar and I have no interest in your silly tricks," Aemond declared, chin rising as Aegon snorted. His brother sniffed, "Daeron is far too sensible to be drawn in by your nonsense either."

An eyebrow arched on Ormund's face. He coughed, turning his head as Aemond's glower set upon him. "As you say, your grace," Ormund inclined his head forward. His eyes flickered over the knights falling into a semi-circle around them.

Not the only one either. Aemond's head turned, eyes fluttering as the Celtigar knight settled beside him, two steps back.

His protectors wore many colors. None of them green.

The Lord of Oldtown was furrowing his brow, a frown pulling at his lips. He turned his head towards Aegon, "I am surprised you ventured outside the Red Keep so soon, your grace, even with such an... expansive escort."

On the steps, Rhaenyra shifted. A hand brushing over her stomach. Luke was glued to her side, just as he had been Jace's the day before in court. Their hands laced together.

"I think Sunfyre more than demonstrated my stance on the threat to my family," Aegon offered the lord with a smirk, chin rising, "And he'd be happy to do so again, should it be necessary."

His voice was sharp. Aegon let the malice drip from his lips. He rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. Several of the courtiers nearby stepped back. His mother's cousin swallowed thickly.

With a bark of laughter, Aegon tossed his head back, "Not that I need to concern myself with that." He rocked forward, nudging Ormund, "Hightowers are natural defenders after all, yes? And my uncle is the commander of the City Watch now. He'll have it sorted before long I'm sure."

"Absolutely!" Ormund's laughter was booming and he clapped a hand on Aegon's shoulder again.

His knees threatened to buckle under the force as the man shook him lightly. Aegon clenched. Ser Arryk twitched, but Aegon shook his head. Gesture as small as he could make it. The knight exhaled slowly.

"No one I'd trust more than Ser Gwayne in this city to protect a gaggle of dragons," He winked at the queen, "He has quite a lot of experience at it, my little cousin."

"That he does," his mother's laugh was light. Her hands clasped before her as she ducked her head, a proper smile spreading scross her face, "I wouldn't know how to manage, without my brother."

Aegon smiled. A sentiment he quite appreciated.

Her head popped up then, smile tight once again, "Or you, my lord. The care you take with my youngest is greatly appreciated."

Lord Ormund waved her off, shoulders rolling back. "It is an honor, your grace. The Hightower stands, as ever, ready to serve you and your family in any way we can."

Throat bobbing, Aegon glanced towards Rhaenyra. Her eyes fluttered, but her face was stone. Entirely still. Her true expression masked behind a tight smile.

Just like his mother. A true queen, both of them. He recognized it well, though he often failed to mimic them.

"In that case..." Aegon drawled, clapping his hands together. Lord Ormund arched a brow. "...you may recall that favor I asked of you at the feast?" His fingers drummed over his bag.

Aegon had other methods for hiding his thoughts though.

"I would not want to entrust a gift for my baby brother with any other." Aegon exaggerated his drawl, emphasizing bis words carefully.

The Lord of Oldtown preened properly. On the steps, Baela rolled her eyes, head rolling with them. Her sister elbowed her, but it had no effect.

"Though, I wouldn't mind an excuse to visit the Hightower," Aegon ignored his cousin, and the gigles her reaction had garnered. He smiled brightly, "Perhaps I will see you soon again, my lord."

It was easier to lie, if you were technically telling the truth.

"Oh, yes, the king is considering recalling Daeron for a visit soon," the queen announced. Her shoulders rolled back and her voice was light, airy. Her fingers twitched over her nails as Ormund wrinkled his nose.

Aegon rocked backwards, making a point of winking at Aemond, "I am hoping to collect my brother if he does." Aemond's lips puckered in the worst pout Aegon had ever seen. Aegon reached behind his mother to flick his brother's ear, "I would be glad to see the Hightower for myself, after my brother's vivid descriptions."

"The Hightower would be glad to have you, your grace," Lord Ormund's eyes brightened. He inclined his head towards Aemond, "All of you, even. Oldtown's hospitality is unmatched by any in the Seven Kingdoms, I assure you."

The man was practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of a possible royal visit. Around them, the courtyard had filled with whispers. A low murmuring that proved his efforts effective.

Influence was power. The Hand told him that constantly. And influence was all about making what you wanted a reality. If enough people expected Daeron to visit, the king would find it more difficult to deny him.

His job was done. Now, he could have a bit of fun.

Clicking his tongue, Aegon looked expectantly at his brother. Aemond blinked. Hand waving in a circular motion, Aegon quirked his head, "You have to turn around, little brother."

"Why?" Aemond drew the word out, eyes narrowing, "What are you going to do?"

"So suspicious!" Aegon shook his head. A round of laughter echoed out. His jaw clicked. His smile tight as he tried to ignore the court.

They could think what they wanted, Aegon wouldn't let them rob him of his little pleasures. Of teasing his little brother about his present.

"You already got a preview of one nameday gift, you cannot have another," Aegon told him.

Eye rolling, Aemond turned. His brother huffed, arms crossing. He tapped his foot impatiently.

Pursing his lips to stop a laugh, Aegon's hand paused on the flap of his bag. The vambraces were wrapped up. Each set disguised as a simple parcel with only Aegon's scribbles to differentiate them from each other.

The wooden dragons were not.

Every member of court would see them, or at least hear about them, once those close enough to see started wagging their tongues.

"Sister," Aegon raised his head and rose up on his tiptoes to meet Rhaenyra's eyes over the shoulder of one of his guards. "I'm afraid you'll need to turn around as well, your grace."

"Do I?" Her eyes fluttered. An eyebrow arched. He pursed his lips and nodded sharply, exaggerating the motion. His throat bobbed.

Maybe he shouldn't tease her, shouldn't press his luck. But then, what better way was there, to demonstrate his loyalty? To remind her of the affection he shared with his nephews?

"Of course, Nyra," he drawled, chin rising, "I have my little nephew's gifts hidden in here as well." He patted at his bag again. Throat bobbing, Aegon let out a breathy laugh, "And I believe we both know how charming an Aegon can be when he puts his mind to it."

Laughter bubbled up from her lips. It was echoed by the court, but Aegon's shoulders relaxed only at hers. A bright little thing. Deep and familiar, if short lived.

The tension drained from his body, even as the fear continued to nag at the back of his head. Screaming at him to shut up, to hide.

"My son hasn't yet learned to use that charm as effectively as you, little brother," Rhaenyra shook her head, lip twitching. She inclined her head, "But I shall indulge you, so long as you promise not to teach him."

"Absolutely not!" Aegon squawked, hand rising to his chest as he jumped back. "The bond between Aegons is sacred. It is my solemn duty to teach him!" He gestured widely, arms crossing and foot stomping for emphasis.

His mother held a hand to her lips as Rhaenyra gaped at him. Luke had doubled over and Baela was cackling.

"If you didn't want me to teach him things, you shouldn't have named him after me," Aegon smirked and she choked. His mother glanced over her shoulder as the two of them struggled to keep from laughing at his antics.

Aegon much preferred the way they were trading smiles across the courtyard over their previous stiff postures. So he made a show of positioning Ser Arryk before he finally opened his bag.

"Can we hurry this along?" Aemond called out and Aegon stuck his tongue out at the back of his head.

The lords and ladies on the other side of the line of knights around him were exchanging all manner of looks. Aegon was being more dramatic than usual, even for him. Some were laughing, smiling as he entertained them. Putting on his little show of checking each of the parcels. Slowly.

It was fun, drawing it out, listening to Aemond's grumbles as he grew impatient. But it also provided his sister an opening. An opportunity.

One he hadn't expected her to take.

Rhaenyra descended the steps. The crowd parting around the Velaryon knights. Luke remained at her side. Baela took up the other, a hand hovering at Rhaenyra's back.

"Technically, I had already named my Aegon when my son was born," Rhaenyra drawled as she approached them. His guards parted and she stepped up beside his mother. Her lips twisted into a smirk, "It was Daemon who insistent that the two of you share a name."

"Disturbing," Aemond gagged, loudly. Aegon appreciated the cover as he froze. His mouth fell open as he stared at Rhaenyra.

Baela snorted, circling around to stand beside Aemond. She poked at his side. "Maybe you'll get your own nephew to share a name with, cousin," Baela teased him and his brother gagged again.

"Ignore her," Rhaena scoffed, ducking around the Celtigar knight to link her arm with Aemond, "Father already told us what he'll name the baby if it's a boy. You're safe."

"And I suppose it's Visenya then, if it's a girl?" his mother whispered to Rhaenyra, ducking her head close. His sister beamed, head bobbing in a short nod as she rubbed at her belly.

Lord Ormund cleared his throat and Aegon startled. His head whipped around, gaze snapping to the man. He inclined his head in a bow, "I do not wish to rush you, my prince, but we must depart."

"Of course," Aegon pulled the last parcel, the one marked with a D in a messy scrawl. He handed it over, forcing a smile as best he could, "I sent him a letter, so he should be expecting it. I didn't tell him what it was though."

"Prince Daeron will have it in hand the moment we arrive at the Hightower, your grace," Lord Ormund promised and squeezed at his shoulder a third time.

His lips pursed as he bowed his head, "Thank you, my lord." He stepped back, stumbling a bit as his shoulder throbbed.

A hiss of whispering went through the gathered courtiers as the movement jostled his bag. The toys hidden inside. He'd been rather careful before, to keep them hidden.

People stiffened all around him. Ormund. The queen.

Rhaenyra.

Luke groaned as he looked pointedly at the dragon heads sticking out of Aegon's bag before the top of slapped over them. His nephew tossed his head back, lips puckering into a pout, "Really, uncle? Both of them?"

"You haven't seen the best part," Aegon reached out to ruffle his hair. Panic flooded his veins and Aegon struggled to laugh. He winked, finger pressing to his lips, "And I think you'll be quite jealous, when you discover what I have planned for Joffrey's nameday..."

"No!" Luke shrieked, eyes widening as he straightened up Aemond whirled around. His eyes narrowed on Aegon as Luke whined. Hands flew to his curls, "He'll be insufferable!"

"The word you're looking for is adorable," Aegon corrected as his mother swept forward to see her cousin off, to wish him safe travels as the man mounted his horse. Leaving him and Aemond alone with his sister and her brood.

Rhaenyra hummed, head tilting as she looked at him, pointedly, "I shall send the nanny for you then, shall I? While we wait the long few months before Joff's nameday..."

Face flushing, Aegon rocked backwards on his heels. Something coiled in his gut. Something vaguely pleasant. He nodded slowly, voice catching, "My nephews are Seven sent, I can't imagine they'd be anything but a delight for me."

"Perhaps for you they shall be," Rhaenyra quirked a brow. Her gaze flickered over him as his body warmed. His fingers twitched around the strap of his bag. Knuckles white as he trembled. She smiled softly, "They quite adore you, Egg."

Ducking his head, Aegon smiled to himself. "I adore them too," he mumbled, swaying on his feet. A moment later, a hand was on his chin, tipping his head back up.

He found himself staring into Rhaenyra's eyes again. A brilliant violet that sharpened on his face. Her nose wrinkled, "Have you eaten yet?"

"No," Aemond answered for him and Aegon attempted to glare at him. Rhaenyra's hand held him still as Aemond crossed his arms, "Helaena said he stole her toast and had two cups of tea."

The treasonous little shit didn't even bother to hide his smirk when Rhaenyra released his chin. Aegon glowered at his brother.

"The Hand has called for an early Small Council meeting," his mother spoke up from behind him, sighing, "Perhaps we can have a servant fetch you something to eat before we arrive."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, brow furrowing. Aegon's gaze flickered around as he realized the Velaryon knights had cleared the courtyard. His five guards and the Cargyll brothers had encircled them as the last of the Hightower horses marched through the gates.

"Ser Erryk, escort the children to their lessons," Rhaenyra turned her head to her kingsguard. The Velaryon knights went with them. She hooked her arm through Aegon's and smiled at the queen, "I believe we can do better than just a quick snack, your grace."

Panic was thrumming through his body as they strolled through the Red Keep to Maegor's Holdfast. Aegon found himself leaning into Rhaenyra even so. His mother was on her other side, a smile adorning her face.

A full plate of food was waiting for him when they arrived at the Small Council room. An array of options spread out on a table nearby. Aegon descended on the prepared plate first. His stomach cramping, grumbling noisily as he caught the sharp spice of his favorite pepper in the air. The one the cooks bought from the merchants in the Hook just for him.

His sister laughed as she settled at the table across from him. She sipped at her juice and nibbled on some fruit, "Perhaps Joffrey was right when he suggested he ought to check on you every morning until you're healed, to make sure you were properly looking after yourself."

"I had things to do," Aegon said around a mouthful of eggs. He moaned, head bowing over his food. A hand combed through his hair and he looked up at his mother as she stood beside him, frowning.

"You had time for two cups of tea?" his mother pointed out and he puckered his lips. "Tomorrow you'll break your fast with me." He whined, but agreed. Partially because he just wanted to eat.

The hunger was suddenly quite overwhelming. His gut twisting with every bite. He expected to be nauseous, especially after waiting so long to eat, but it did not come.

"Are we having a second breakfast with the Small Council?" Daemon drawled as he entered the room. He gestured at the table of food as Aegon scarfed down some random pastry he'd leaned back to swipe from it.

"Egg needed to eat," Rhaenyra shrugged, leaning back in her chair. She pointed at the plate of pastries, "And the baby would like one of those. With the cherry filling."

Smiling, Daemon grabbed a plate for her. He added a few fruits too. Some carrot sticks. Rhaenyra pouted until he grabbed two of the pastries she'd requested.

"And the lemon cakes," she added before Daemon could turn from the table. "Those are for me," Rhaenyra fluttered her lashes at her husband. He laughed and bowed his head before picking up the whole platter of lemon cakes.

Aegon snatched one of the desserts from the platter as it was set between them. Rhaenyra smiled up at Daemon and he ducked down to kiss her cheek. The other members of the council trickled in. Beesbury laughed when he saw the food. Lannister managed to hide his own in a cup of wine before he grabbed one of the pastries himself.

"Hardly proper..." Mellos muttered as he took his seat. Aegon hunched his shoulders. His eyes flicked towards the Hand's seat, then to the queen.

"Wait," Aegon straightened, head turning to survey the room.

Ser Arryk had taken the station at the drawbridge as they passed over into the Holdfast. Per usual as late. No other kingsguard was present.

"Where's Ser Criston?" Aegon asked.

His mother smiled tightly. Her mask descending over her face.

Rhaenyra paused, lemon cake halfway to her lips. She narrowed her eyes on the queen, "I didn't see him in the courtyard, either... is he ill?"

With a quick shake of her head, the queen waved them off, "He was called away to speak with the king earlier." Aegon's gaze returned to the Hand's seat.

His empty seat.

Leaning back in his chair, Aegon exhaled slowly. The food sat heavy in his stomach. The cramping had not abated with his eating, as he had expected.

"And what is so special about this tea?" the Hand's voice was soft, affectionate, as he entered the room.

It was no surprise that Helaena followed after him. Otto held the door for her as she strolled inside, humming softly.

"Aegon likes it," Helaena told him as she approached. She set the tea in question on the table before him and flashed a quick smile, "It has his favorite pepper in it. And some spices from Volantis."

"Is that what it's in it?" Aegon reached for the cup. He sipped at it. The tea filled his mouth. A warm comfort. Faintly spicy, as she said. Tangy. He hummed, eyes fluttering closed. It really was very good.

Helaena's laughter was like a chime, tinkling in the air as she left. "Amongst other things."

His grandfather did not comment on the food. He did arch a brow at the platter of lemon cakes sitting on the table between Rhaenyra and Aegon. Half empty as it was.

"Will the king be joining us today?" Lannister asked, leaning forward in his seat. Aegon's head snapped around.

The king had been at every Small Council meeting he'd attended so far. He was aware, vaguely, that the king left the managing of the realm to the Hand when his health grew tiring, but...

"He will," Otto inclined his head, jaw clenching, "He was waylaid by a prince." His gaze slid over to Rhaenyra, "The king will arrive shortly, once he has finished with Prince Jacaerys."

Once again, Rhaenyra paused with a lemon cake halfway to her lips. Slowly, it continued its journey, hiding her frown. Aegon hid his own in his tea as his chest grew tight.

When the king arrived, Jace was with him.

And Cole, taking up the traditional spot at the front of the room where Ser Harrold usually stood.

Eyes fluttering, Aegon turned his head, following him around the room with a furrowed brow. He tilted his head.

With a clipped nod, Cole met his gaze. The knight's throat bobbed.

"You're a bit old to be a cupbearer..." Daemon clicked his tongue as Jace stepped in beside his mother, refilling her goblet.

"Perhaps, but it will allow me to observe," Jace circled the room to fill Aegon's cup next before exchanging his pitcher for one with wine.

Viserys chuckled, hands gesturing out as he took his seat, "Jace wants to learn. He shall be king one day, so it's only fitting." He smiled at Rhaenyra. "And he made quite a compelling argument."

Jace filled the rest of the goblets. A smile flickered over Rhaenyra's face as she watched him, "Yes. He can be quite convincing when he wants to be."

"As convincing as a rock to the head maybe," Daemon snorted. Jace narrowed his eyes on him as he poured Daemon's wine. The man squinted at him, "And I suddenly have the urge to bring my own wine to these meetings."

"I wouldn't kill you so kindly," Jace sniffed. The two of them traded several more barbs as his nephew continued his task. Much to the amusement of the entire Small Council.

Very few challenged Daemon after all. Even fewer got away with it.

Daemon almost looked proud as Jace managed to insinuate he was an opportunistic lickspittle without actually saying the words. The king was absolutely beaming, grinning broadly. Even the Hand seemed vaguely amused.

"You have nothing to fear," Jace finally sighed, taking up a position a few paces behind his mother, out of the way. "I promised mother I wouldn't execute you until after she came to her senses."

"Well, I shall sleep easy then, knowing I am secure in your mother's heart," Daemon kissed the back of Rhaenyra's hand, smirking back at Jace as she rolled her eyes at them.

Aegon gagged, nose wrinkling, "Seven knows why..." The king barked with laughter then. head bowing.

Hands gestured out as Viserys leaned back in his seat, eyes shimmering with mirth as he met his brother's stormy gaze, "The miracle of soulmates..."

Stomach twisting, Aegon lowered his gaze to the table and downed the dregs of his tea. He rubbed absently at his left arm as the Hand cleared his throat.

"If we can begin, your grace, there are several pressing issues," Otto nodded towards Cole first, and then - pointedly - to Aegon. Shoulders rolling back, Aegon reached for his mother's hand beneath the table.

She squeezed his sweaty palm, chin rising as the king waved the Hand onward. Her throat bobbed. Aegon's chest grew tight.

"First, it is unfortunately necessary for me to inform this council that Ser Harrold has taken to bed with winter fever."

Rhaenyra pressed a hand to her throat, eyes wide. On his side of the table, Aegon went cold. Mellos confirmed it quickly and Aegon shivered at the low drone of his voice.

"He has been quarantined in his chambers in White Sword Tower," Otto continued. He gestured towards Cole and Aegon turned his head to stare at his mother's swornshield. "Until he has recovered, Ser Criston will be acting commander of the kingsguard and shall fulfill his duties, including his role as protector of the king."

The nauseau hit him then. Aegon clamped his mouth shut. His mind reeling as he stared at Cole. He remained firmly still, jaw clenching as Otto kept talking, detailing what was being done to ensure Ser Harrold's recovery.

Aegon didn't believe a word of it. Ser Harrold had seen his entire fight with Aemond in front of the king's door the night before. Had seen them with Otto... asked to speak with him privately.

He'd been fine. Focused even. Suspicious.

And now Ser Harrold was quarantined in his quarters and Otto was sat at the king's table, explaining how his own knights - loyal to House Hightower, to the Hand - would protect his mother in Cole's stead.

The Hand was replacing the queen's swornshield with his spies. With men who would report on all her movements. His siblings'. Aegon's.

"It is no trouble, of course," Otto smiled across the table, "I have a vested interested in the queen's safety." The table erupted into a soft laughter.

"Couldn't Ser Arryk fill in for Cole?" Aegon pipped up, throat bobbing as all eyes turned on him. He fidgeted, gaze turning from Cole to face their judgement, "I'm staying in the queen's chambers right now anyway. I could-"

The king cut him off with a wave of his hand, "No. Recent events have made it very clear you need your kingsguard. And it would be inappropriate for a prince of House Targaryen to be protected by knights of a different house."

"But my escort this morning only had one Targaryen guard," Aegon countered. Both the king and the Hand frowned. Their eyes narrowed on him. The queen stiffened. He swallowed thickly.

"That was my doing," Rhaenyra spoke up as he shrunk back. The king scowled. She sipped at her goblet, hand waving vaguely as she shrugged, "I told Ser Arryk to pull from mine or the queen's retinue when Egg goes into the city." She smiled at the queen, inclining her head, "I meant to inform you this morning, your grace, but you were still abed when Egg left."

Viserys straightened, head snapping back to Aegon, "You went into the city? Why in Seven Hells-"

Flushing, Aegon ducked his head, "I needed to pick something up, before the Hightowers left." The king's jaw clenched. He grimaced.

That had been the wrong thing to say.

"It is no trouble, your grace," Rhaengra drew the king's attention once more and Aegon exhaled slowly.

His mother squeezed at his hand again. She ducked her head close to his, whispering in his ear, "You are to take my guards next time, do you understand?" He nodded slowly.

"I've supplemented my own household guards with knights supplied by House Celtigar." Rhaenyra was explaining to the king. Her neutral mask firmly in place as she defended her decision, "Lord Stark is staying with me as well now and the northern bannermen he brought with him have offered to help as well, given the current danger. I have the men, and my brother deserves the same protection as my sons."

She and the king stared at one another. A silent conversation in their eyes as neither blinked. Rhaenyra quirked her head, eyebrow arching as she smiled tightly.

"This will do, I think, until we have organized a personal guard for Aegon, as you and I discussed the other day, your grace," Rhaenyra spoke sharply and the king flushed.

"I don't need a personal guard," Aegon said, but they both ignored him. Still staring only at one another as the rest of the table descended into silence.

A very awkward, nerve-wracking silence in which Aegon was left pinned beneath the Hand's scowl. He'd made several missteps here it seemed, and Aegon knew he'd hear about each of them later. In depth.

His mother squeezed at his hand again and Aegon startled as she spoke, voice ringing out like a bell, "I would agree. It is better for Ser Arryk to remain with Prince Aegon until the current situation is resolved."

Whether that situation was the threat on his nephews or Ser Harrold's condition went unsaid. Either way, Rhaenyra turned her gaze to the queen, nodding mutely. The king sighed.

"Regardless, you are not to leave the castle again without informing me first," the king dropped his chin, eyes narrowing on him. Aegon flushed beneath his attention and nodded. His hands shook as his father looked at him.

A smile twitched at the king's face as Viserys surveyed him. He bit at his lip, uncertain what to do with himself as his father kept watching, kept staring, even as he waved Otto onward.

Aegon had never had the king's attention like this. His father was focused on him, gaze intent. Assessing, but not... not judging. It almost felt affectionate. Loving, even.

Lashes fluttering, Aegon glanced up, meeting his eyes. The smile on his father's face blossomed wider.

"The next matter came to me this morning, though it has been a... a growing concern for some time," Otto sighed, fingers drumming on the table. He sat stiffly, chin rising as he spoke, "There is apparently a growing... frustration, with Prince Aegon's lack of a match."

"Not this again..." Viserys huffed and turned his gaze to Otto, eyes narrowing. The Hand inclined his head forward as lips all around the table pursed tightly.

Eyes wide, Aegon's head snapped to the side. His mother raised a hand to cup his cheek for a moment, smile tight. She said nothing.

The Hand cleared his throat, "I have stopped their petitions, your grace, but since Princess Helaena's nameday and the continued lack of betrothal announcements... Court gossips, your grace, you know this."

"I also know that I have been quite clear that House Targaryen will be keeping to the traditions of Valyria on this matter going forward," Viserys spoke sharply, forehead wrinkling, "Both Aegon and Helaena have matches. I will announce their betrothals when it is appropriate."

Jace's fingers twitched over a pitcher of wine as he refilled Lannister's cup. Gaze set firmly on the table, Aegon reached for his own.

It wasn't wine. Jace had given him the same drink as Rhaenyra. Some tart juice. A fruity mix that he drank greedily as his body chilled further. His mother's hand lingered on his right shoulder.

Warm. She was warmer than him. His breath hitched as he listened to the king shut down Otto's every concern, every complaint from a lord about his habits and his age.

He spent every night in a brothel. He was obviously bored at court. He played with his nephew constantly. By all accounts, Aegon was not only long-past ready to marry, but he was quite obviously in need of a wife and child to take up his time.

"Let them bring their petitions then," Viserys demanded, hand slapping at the table. Aegon jumped in his seat, wincing as his father growled, "Let them question their king publically. He is my son and I will decide what is best for him, not some snake who wishes to use him as a political pawn."

The room went entirely silent. Aegon chanced a glance at his father. He was scowling, but not at him. At Otto. His next breath came easy. His body warming.

His father was defending him. Protecting him.

They'd agreed for his mark to be a secret, for his eventual betrothal to wait for Jace to gain his own mark. Aegon hadn't realized the king would have to fight his own court to make that happen.

"The matter will resolve itself soon enough," Viserys sat back, hands settling on the sides of his chair. He gave Otto a clipped nod, "Let us continue, to the reason we gathered so early."

A hand settled on the back of his chair as Jace refilled his goblet. Aegon shifted closer to him. A slip of paper dropped into his lap and Aegon snatched it up quickly as Jace fell back again.

The final matter was the bounty. The threat against Rhaenyra and Daemon's children. His uncle had sent a report on their initial findings. A report that had Daemon growling.

"A day? The fliers were disseminated the day before the attack? How could they spread so quickly?!" Daemon snarled, voice dripping with venom. His body trembled with barely contained rage.

Rhaenyra squeezed at his arm as Otto read from the report, "The bounty originated in several taverns in Flea Bottom and the Hook the night before the attack."

Scoffing, Daemon shook his head, "I'd heard whispers of a threat days before. Unspecific, but there'd been talk along the Street of Silk for at least a week before that bounty was announced."

"Perhaps your sources ought to speak with the City Watch then and they could get to the bottom of things properly," Otto drawled and Daemon's lips curled back.

"Whores don't talk to the City Watch unless someone pays them to," Aegon clicked his tongue. His uncle rolled his shoulders back as Aegon shrugged his own, "We'd have to offer a reward for information, if we wanted anyone on the Street of Silk to open their mouths."

He had no doubt Mysaria was Daemon's source. Her network of whores and spies. Nothing happened in Flea Bottom without Lady Misery finding out. And they were friends, Aegon had heard them with his own ear, heard Daemon taking her advice.

"That is Ser Gwayne's suggestion as well," Otto informed them and Beesbury launched into an immediate lecture on the current state of the coffers.

Expanding the household guard, housing and feeding the Velaryon contingent, the compensation to the shop owners at Cobbler's Square. The expenses were adding up. Aegon averted his eyes as the list went on.

Most of it was because of him. His screw-ups and missteps. He was a drain on the royal coffers, same as he was everything else.

"The reward shall be contingent on the information being vetted then," Viserys reached forward to snatch the last lemon cake from the platter. His father took a bite, inclining his head, "We can pinch our pennies elsewhere. The safety of the royal family is paramount at present."

At that, the conversation turned to guard rotations.

No member of the royal family would be without an escort going forward. A knight would be assigned to each of them, a kingsguard to senior members, with the exception of the queen and Jace. They would have at least two guards each instead - Hightowers and Velaryons respectively.

"We ought to increase patrols as well, your grace," Lannister suggested, stroking at his chin, "Both in and around the Red Keep."

It was all quite reasonable, if entirely inconvenient.

Jace's note told him to meet him after the council was dismissed. The tight net of patrols and guards would make that more difficult going forward. Even with Ser Arryk keeping his mouth shut, they couldn't be seen getting too friendly with one another.

"Your grace," the Velaryon knights bowed their heads as he approached the base of the stairs to one of the Red Keep's spires. Ser Arryk took up his own position at the door that led to the balcony Jace had chosen.

"So... this is your favorite spot, is it?" Aegon asked as he shut the door behind him. Jace turned, smiling as he leaned back against the stone halfwall separating him from the open sky.

It was a gorgeous sight, the midday sun casting a glow over the snow dusting the Red Keep. Casting a glow over his nephew too, brightening his eyes to that golden hue that made Aegon's heart race.

He exhaled, approaching him slowly, "I suppose I can understand why."

"Found it when we were kids," Jace reached for him and Aegon let himself be pulled up to the edge."I use to come up here when you took Sunfyre flying. So I could feel the breeze too, while I watched you soar above the Blackwater."

A hand moved to his back, gliding over his spine, grazing low. Aegon shifted closer. A kiss was pressed to his cheek. His body pulsed with heat as he smiled.

Biting his lip, Aegon turn into Jace's side, tucking himself closer, burrowing into his nephew. He inhaled deeply as he wrapped his arms around Jace. The hand on his back grabbed at his doublet as its partner rose to cup Aegon's cheek.

"I like that you've been watching out for me this whole time," Aegon admitted, dropping his head to Jace's shoulder as his nephew chuckled softly. Lips grazed over his ear.

"Even when I make you take guards into the city with you?" Jace teased him. Aegon groused, lips puckering into a pout. He gave a clipped nod. Head bobbing just once before the lips pressed to his cheek next. "I'm going to protect you, Egg," Jace whispered, "Whether you want me to or not."

The declaration hung between them. Heavy. Jace didn't mention his bruises, though his fingers grazed over the ones on his face as Aegon stared out over the Red Keep. Over the Blackwater and the deep blue sky above it.

"What the king said... about your mark, about... having a match," Jace breathed out. Aegon stiffened. His fingers twisting in Jace's doublet. His nephew cupped his cheek, pulling his face up.

Their eyes met, Aegon swallowed as Jace seemed to stare into his soul. Stripping him bare in a way he'd never felt before.

His gut twisted. Fear rising in the back of his head even as he clung to his nephew. Thrumming through his veins.

"Is that why you're so insistent about..." Jace blushed, lips twitching up as he pulled Aegon closer, "...about having a baby?" His hand combed through Aegon's hair, "Do you not want to marry whoever it is?"

"I want to marry you," Aegon insisted, hands rising. He slid one in to Jace's hair, the other wrapping around the back of his neck. "I want you," Aegon pressed their foreheads together, voice cracking. Eyes wide. Jace kissed him, soft and slow.

Tears prickled at his eyes. His lashes fluttered as Jace swipe at his cheek. Another kiss. "You have me, Egg." Jace peppered his cheeks with more. Aegon cried softly, ducking his head to hide his face as it grew wet

"A baby will make them agree," Aegon told him, sniffling, "They can't say no. Rhaenyra, my mother, the Hand. The king will have us marry and no one can... no one can stop it."

Quiet descended for just a moment. The wind whipping around them, the only sound but Aegon's crying.

"On my sixteenth nameday, I'll petition the king to let us marry," Jace pulled his head back up, cradling Aegon's face in warm hands. "Fuck what either of our marks say, you're going to be my queen," he promised, pressing another to Aegon's lips, "I'll steal you away to Dragonstone and marry you that very day if they try to stop us."

Aegon surged forward, arms wrapping around Jace's neck. His mouth moving over Jace's. His nephew moaned and Aegon arched against him.

The kiss was all-consuming. Jace's lips forceful, his tongue insistent. Aegon was left panting against him as his nephew growled, "I'll fill you with enough seed on our wedding night, no one will doubt you're with child by morning."

"Jace~" Aegon nosed at his jaw and his nephew pressed him into one of the columns holding up the tower's roof. Fingers pressed to his lips next. Aegon sucked on them greedily, tongue sliding between the digits as Jace worked open his doublet, the laces of his breeches. A hand pumped his cock only twice and then Aegon was falling over the edge.

The first orgasm slammed into his chest and left him feeling hollow. Aegon let out a scream of pleasure, begging for more. Jace obliged readily.

"You... you need Nyra to agree," Aegon mouthed at Jace's jaw as his nephew slipped the first finger into his hole. He sighed, "If... if she doesn't support us, the king won't- won't let us marry."

A moan ripped from his lips. He lifted a leg, hooking it around Jace's waist. Using the column as leverage, Aegon pushed back on the finger thrusting into him.

"My mother will support us," Jace assured him, kissing his cheek, "She married her uncle. It's no different." Aegon scoffed. His head fell forward as a second finger teased at his rim. He shrugged his doublet off, tossing it aside towards his sword.

"It was politically useless to marry Daemon," Aegon panted, clutching at Jace as he raised his head. His fingers fisting in dark curls. Their foreheads touching, he hummed, "You're already... you're making your own moves. Corlys. The Small Council. Nyra will think..."

The second finger pushed in and Aegon tossed his head back. His cock throbbed. The ache in his gut twisted. His insides cramping as Jace whimpered.

"You're so beautiful, Egg." Lips pressed to his throat. A hard cock rocked against his right thigh. "I want to bury myself inside you so bad."

"Do it," Aegon urged him, body writhing, "I won't... I've never worried about a babe before. It'll be fine." Jace claimed his lips with a snarl. Aegon moaned, sucking on his nephew's bottom lip. A hand squeezed at his ass.

"Lift your other leg," Jace ordered, fingers scissoring.

Aegon perched himself in the air, trapped between a stone pillar and the firm body of his nephew. His breeches and smallclothes dangling from an ankle as Jace twisted his fingers.

They pressed deeper, the angle pushing them against his prostate with every movement of Jace's wrist. He chuckled darkly as Aegon keened, "You've never been with another dragonrider either." Jace's tongue flicked over his pulse point as his lips dropped back to Aegon's throat. "The book says that's important."

"What else did it say?" Aegon begged, rolling his hips. Jace teased his hole with a third finger, humming softly as Aegon whined. "When can you fuck me?"

"Haven't finished it yet," Jace sucked at his jaw. Aegon clenched around Jace's fingers. He needed more. Mumbled as much as Jace stretched him.

The dull ache had intensified to an insistent throb, sharp as it pulsed inside of him. His bruises almost numb in comparison as the heat boiled inside him. His heart hammered at his chest.

Was this what it was like? To have his soulmate touch him? Was this his mark?

Jace moaned as he trailed kisses down to Aegon's collarbone. He was gentle on the left side. On the right, he nipped at Aegon's skin, scrapping his teeth over the pale flesh as Aegon groaned.

Maybe it was just Jace.

He'd dreamed of him, fantasized for years. Called his name as whores fucked him. And now Aegon was in his arms, on the receiving end of his nephew's devoted attention.

It was amazing.

"My mouth," Aegon breathed out as Jace rose back up. Their lips ghosted over one another. Teeth grazed at his lips and he moaned, "Use my mouth. I wanna... wanna taste you."

Jace cursed and his cock pushed up against Aegon's ass. The thick fabric of his breeches sliding roughly. Aegon's thighs tightened around him.

"If I can't have your cock in my ass," Aegon kissed him, holding Jace still as he licked in to his mouth. "Then let me taste it."

With a whimper, Jace nodded, head bobbing as his fingers scissored again. Aegon gasped and Jace exhaled slowly. "Cum for me, just like this. Wanna see it." He groaned, nipping at Aegon's lip. "I'll fuck your mouth after."

His cock twitched and Aegon let himself sink into the pleasure coursing through him. It dragged him under quickly, over-whelming him as he gave in, as Jace relentlessly prodded at his prostate.

"Cum for me, Egg," Jace ordered and his vision went white. His release coated his stomach, splashing on to his nephew's doublet. The fingers slowed, dragging in and out a few more times as Jace worked him through the orgasm.

"Fuck my mouth," Aegon smiled as he dropped his feet down. Fingers were wiped on the back of his shirt and then Jace was tugging open his own laces.

His nephew didn't last long once Aegon fell to his knees. He took the thick cock in his mouth and moaned as Jace thrust deeper.

Tangy. Salty. A sharp bitter taste, like wine, but better.

"So good," Aegon breathed out as he kissed at the tip of the shaft.

A chuckle cracked above him and he dropped his mouth open. He kept eye contact with Jace as his nephew fucked his mouth, as he spilled his seed down Aegon's throat a moment later.

"Fuck!" Aegon collapsed on the ground after, curling up on top of their cloaks when Jace maneuvered him there. His eyes fluttered closed.

He moaned as his body shook. He felt good, a syrupy sort of haze settling over his mind. Aegon didn't want to move again. Not ever.

It was just past mid-day. His limbs were sluggish as he pushed a hand through his hair. Jace settled beside him, doublet abandoned.

"How am I suppose to train with Joff later when you've left me like this?" Aegon nuzzled at Jace's throat as he was gathered into his nephew's arms again.

"I have to train with Aemond," Jace countered with a snort. Hands groped at his body then, squeezing at his ass. "And you're very distracting."

Aegon giggled, smiling to himself as the touches turned softer after that. Massaging at his limbs as his heart rate slowed. As his body cooled. The raging inferno dimming to a crackling fire in his gut.

"Speaking of distractions..." Jace's throat bobbed beneath Aegon's lips. Humming, Aegon nosed at his jaw, pressing little kisses to Jace's skin as he spoke. "We were in the middle of discussing something."

With a groan, Aegon flopped over Jace's chest. His nephew laughed. A hand laced through his hair. Head rising, Aegon exhaled through his nose, "You need to be careful."

Jace arched a brow. Aegon sat up a bit more. His hands pushing on Jace's chest as he pinned the younger man with a look.

"You keep.... doing stuff, without telling your mother," Aegon clarified. His fingers twitch in Jace's shirt as his nephew quirked his head. "Asking Corlys to come, asking the king to let you observe the council meetings."

"You think I shouldn't have done those things?" Jace wrinkled his nose. He gestured wide, hands flying up, "We need to make it clear the Velaryons still support us, and I do need to learn more about-"

Aegon pressed a finger to his lips. He ducked closer, kissing Jace's cheek, "You're surprising her with them. Publically. That doesn't look good, Jace. Not for her." His nephew blinked, brow furrowing. "Your claim comes from her. Unless you're planning to usurp your mother-"

"What?!" Jace sat up abruptly, eyes wide as he dragged Aegon into his lap. Sighing, Aegon took a firm hold of his nephew's face. His thumbs grazing over his cheeks.

"If you're not planning to usurp your mother..." Aegon repeated, enunciating each word, "...you must present a united front. The Princesss of Dragonstone and her loyal heir, always."

His grandfather would use any opening he could to drive a wedge, to rip any support he could from Rhaenyra's claim. Aegon swallowed as Jace trembled, his mouth opened. Closed. He said nothing.

"Surprise her. Annoy her. Argue. I can hardly talk." Aegon scoffed and tossed his head back, "My mother hasn't known peace since I was born." He pressed their foreheads together, smile soft as he petted at Jace's hair, "But you must only do it behind closed doors, only challenge her where the court cannot see. Cannot hear."

"I would never usurp my mother," Jace whispered. His hands squeezed at Aegon's hip. "Why would anyone-"

"You're a man," Aegon rolled his hips, pushing down on the soft cock beneath him to emphasize his point. It twitched, starting to harden as Aegon rocked against him. "This is Westeros. Daughters do not inherit as sons do. Not anywhere but Dorne."

"And here," Jace snarled, lips curling back. "For my mother. For Targaryens."

He claimed Aegon's mouth with a sharp bite. Aegon moaned as Jace stole his breath. A forceful kiss that ended with him bracing himself on Jace's shoulders, his body trembling.

His nephew sat back, arms crossing behind his head. Dark eyes surveyed Aegon's nearly nude body. Lips twitched up and Aegon stare down at him, eyes fluttering as he tried to calm his pounding heart.

"My mother will be queen," Jace assured him, chin rising. He rocked his hips and Aegon groaned. His gut twisted. That fucking ache sharp beneath his stomach.

Fingers trembling, Aegon reached for Jace's breeches. In moments he had a warm cock sliding between his cheeks. Jace smirked as Aegon whined his name. Voice desperate. Wanton.

His body burned. His mark pulsed.

"Bounce," Jace drawled, eyebrows jumping up as he breathed out, "Put on a show for me, Egg, like you did for Lord Hightower..."

"You... you heard about that already?" Aegon gasped as he began to shift his hips forward, then back. Jace let out little breathy sighs, nodding slowly.

"You always put on a show for the court," Jace groaned as Aegon trailed his hands over Jace's chest. His kissed at the fingertips Aegon pressed to his lips. His gaze was heavy. "You distract them with your antics so they don't notice how nervous you are."

An arm slipped out from behind his head. Aegon sucked on two fingers as he started to bounce, writhing against the cock he so wanted inside him. Jace watched up rapturously, grinning wide as Aegon tossed his head back.

"Want you inside me," Aegon begged, pushing a hand up his own neck as he blabbered on about how warm Jace's cock was against his ass, how thick it felt between his cheeks.

He played with his hair, tossing his head about when he noticed the way Jace's eyes darkened each time he did it. Aegon purred and grazed his hand down his own chest.

"Touch me, Jace," Aegon breathed out as he kept moving. The cock beneath him throbbing, teasing at his hole with every shift of his hips.

His shirt fell off his shoulder and Jace moaned. Aegon's hips stuttered. Wet fingers pinched at his nipples before they dropped to Aegon's cock.

"You're gonna look so good on my cock," Jace whined. His seed coated Aegon's ass and his hand pumped Aegon's cock until Jace's stomach matched.

Aegon let his eyes flutter closed as he was rolled onto his back. Jace's seed was dripping over his hole. He clenched as the sensation needled at his nerves.

"Kiss me some more," Aegon mewled, nuzzling his cheek against soft blue fabric. His head lulled to the side.

Jace chuckled. Lips pressed to his sternum, moving slowly upward. Aegon's chest heaved, stuttering breaths puffing out as he came down from his orgasm.

"I plan to do more than kiss you, Egg," Jace whispered against his lips. Aegon widened his legs as his nephew drew back.

The younger man did not settled between them though. Nor did his hand.

Eyes fluttering open, Aegon frowned as he watched Jace reach for his doublet. He tugged a familiar jar of salve from one of the inner pockets and Aegon blushed.

"You left this in the nursery," Jace told him as he set the jar beside them. He pressed a kiss to Aegon's lips.

Sighing, Aegon opened his mouth. His nephew licked inside, tracing the ridges at the top of his mouth, teasing his swollen lips. Jace was slow, methodical.

And then he stopped.

Aegon yelped as he was flipped onto his stomach. His breath caught in his throat, his body going immediately stiff. Still, until he heard the sound of the jar being unscrewed.

"Relax, uncle," Jace started massaging the salve into his bruised flesh. He kissed at his cheek as Aegon turned his head, cheek pressed to Jace's cloak again. His nephew smirked, laughing as he ducked his head closer, "Joffrey made me promise to look after you when he wasn't around."

His touch was warm, and firm, as it moved over his thigh, then his hip. Aegon's eyes fluttered closed again. The fear stuck in his throat shrunk back.

It was silly. Stupid. Jace would never hurt him. Jace wanted him. Loved him.

"I need you to take your shirt off," Jace pressed a kiss to Aegon's neck. Flushing, Aegon shifted. Jace peeled the fabric down his back and he didn't say a word as Aegon wrapped it around his left forearm, tucking the whole bundle beneath his head.

The massaging hands continued. Jace's touch growing even more gentle as he worked over the darkest bruises on Aegon's back. His fingers lingered on the hand print still visible on his forearm.

Aegon trembled beneath the touch, gasping as Jace kissed up his spine.

"One day..." Jace whispered as he reached Aegon's face. He swiped away tears and applied the salve. "...I'm going to make sure you're never afraid again."

Voice wobbling, Aegon hiccupped, "I'm not afraid, not when I'm with you." His lungs burned as he exhaled. Jace kissed him softly as he screwed the jar shut.

"You're a terrible liar, uncle."

He rolled onto his back. Jace hovered over him. Aegon reached up, smiling softly, gaze low. "I know." Jace took his hand, kissed his palm.

"Will you tell me?" Jace asked, eyebrow arching. He cupped Aegon's cheek, "Will you tell me what you're afraid of, uncle?"

"I'd rather you distract me again," Aegon laughed wetly. His nephew sighed, but Jace captured his lips a moment later and Aegon spent the next week delightfully distracted. 

Jace kissed him every chance he had after that. Aegon savored every one of them, clinging to his nephew, giggling into his shoulder as they whispered back and forth in hidden alcoves, in spare rooms. Stolen moments in the final days before the tourney, before his brother's nameday.

"I like when we get distracted," Aegon muffled a moan in Jace's pillow as he writhed on his nephew's bed. Fingers curled inside of him and his mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Good," Jace panted against his ear, "Because I plan to *distract* you as often as possible, Egg." He sealed their lips together as his knuckles pushed at Aegon's prostate.

His next scream wasn't silent and Aegon drew blood as he bit at Jace's lip. His nephew merely moaned into their kiss, grinding against his thigh.

Aegon never wanted to leave this bed. Not ever.

Chapter Text

Some traditions are so important they become more like a ritual, like his mother's nightly prayers or the way Helaena stabbed her finger on the first stitch when she started her embroidery. A blood sacrifice before she could truly begin.

Panting against Jace's thigh, the salty tang of cum on his tongue, Aegon was fairly certain this was becoming one such tradition. Jace liked to fly at night, Aegon had started meeting him in the dragon yard when he landed.

"Egg~" Jace's fingers tightened in his hair as Aegon flicked his tongue out to lick at Jace's softened cock. "Gods, you're insatiable." His nephew threw his head back, gasping as his body trembled from his recent release.

"I sleep better," Aegon hummed, tongue lapping at the slit of Jace's cock. "After I've had your cock," Aegon whined as Jace pulled him away, "I wasn't done..."

His nephew dragged him up, a shaking hand cupping his cheek as he pressed their foreheads together. Jace exhaled slowly, "You need to rest, uncle." A thumb brushed over his bruises. Only just starting to fade. "Recover."

Hands sliding up over Jace's chest, sneaking beneath his shirt, Aegon chuckled, "I can rest after." He nipped at Jace's lips, "I promise. I'll go right to bed." His hand dropped to Jace's cock, grasping the shaft, "I need you inside me some more."

"Oh, fuck," Jace's head fell back against Vermax. He rocked up in to Aegon's palm, crying out. Vermax huffed, his side rising up as Aegon dropped back to his knees.

Behind him, Sunfyre shifted closer. Aegon's head was hazy as he took Jace's cock back into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the tip. Heat pulsed in his belly as the shaft swelled, hardening in his mouth.

He gasped as Sunfyre nudged at his shoulder. Choking, Aegon pulled off, coughing as Sunfyre whined. A chirp from above and Aegon scowled up at Tyraxes. The silver dragon was perched on Sunfyre's back, rolling around atop golden scales. Mocking Aegon with his tittering laugh.

"Even the dragons know we should stop," Jace chuckled, groaning as he tugged his breeches back up. Aegon puckered his lips and aimed a pout at his nephew as the younger man laced himself away. Faced flush, mouth hanging open.

Aegon clamored up, biting at his lip as he watched Jace fix his doublet and his leathers back into position. Hands shaking, body trembling. His nephew was still on edge, same as Aegon. He fluttered his lashes, "One more?"

Dark eyes swept over him. Plump lips twitched up, and then they claiming him. Aegon moaned as he was pushed up against Sunfyre. Jace slipped his tongue into Aegon's mouth with a groan. A hand slipped beneath his breeches, squeezing at his ass.

"I may actually combust if you don't fuck me soon," Aegon groaned, fingers twisting in Jace's hair as his nephew devoured him.

"Soon," Jace promised, sucking at his bottom lip. Aegon panted as the pleasure in his gut coiled tight. A finger teased at his hole. He tossed his head back, eyes squeezing shut.

His climax washed over him, flooding his veins with ecstasy. Aegon spasmed. His nephew continued to rock his thigh against Aegon's twitching cock. Even with their clothes, the friction was delicious. Aegon's vision swam as he clung to his nephew.

"The book..." Jace breathed out, cupping his face again. Aegon dropped his head to Jace's shoulder. "I'm almost done," Jace swallowed, other hand rising to rub at Aegon's back, "I think... I think it always requires something. A... a rite or a tonic or... something, to prep you."

"Prep me?" Aegon asked, chest heaving. A kiss was pressed to his cheek. His neck. He sighed, smiling softly, "I like when you prep me."

Jace chuckled, "Not like that." Aegon hummed, nuzzling against his throat.

He'd only had Jace's fingers a couple times. His nephew was quite diligent. Careful. So very, very careful. Aegon whined. He wanted them now, could almost feel their ghosts stroking him inside as he shuddered.

"Your body has to be prepared to carry a child. The book calls it..." Jace wrinkled his nose and said the words, slowly, in Valyrian.

"Opening the womb?" Aegon arched a brow and raised his head. Jace shrugged. "Will we have to do it every time before we fuck?"

With a shake of his head, Jace exhaled, "No. Once it's done, whatever the method, you'll be able to... to take anyone's seed. I think." His throat bobbed. Aegon blinked. "Mine will... will catch quicker cause I'm a dragonrider, but..."

"I'm only taking yours," Aegon shrugged, laying his head back down. His arms hung around Jace's neck as he sighed, "Eventually, you'll even put it in the right hole."

A stuttering laugh, breathy. Jace brushed his hand through Aegon's hair, "Are you... Do you mean that?" Aegon squinted at him. Jace blushed, "You're not... you're not going to go back to the brothel?"

With a snort, Aegon hummed, "I'm sure they're bored of hearing me muffle your name in my pillow by now anyway." His nephew stilled. Aegon's eyes fluttered, and then his head was yanked up.

"Soon," Jace repeated, growling as he slotted their mouths together again. Abruptly. His kiss hard and demanding. "Gonna fuck you properly." Aegon startled, back arching as he was pressed flat to Sunfyre once more. "You're gonna be beautiful, riding my cock," Jace whined, grabbing at him. Fingers digging in, desperate to touch.

Aegon wasn't about to complain, certainly not when Jace was tugging laces open again. His body was a twitching mess after Jace was done. Ser Arryk had to dump him into his bed an hour later. Aegon giggled as the man huffed.

"Tomorrow is the tourney, your grace, it might have been prudent to call it an early night," Ser Arryk tugged Aegon's sword belt from his body and dumped it onto his table. Aegon kicked his shoes off himself, already stretching out on the bed. His muscles ached, pleasuring lingering at the edges of his frayed nerves.

"Yes, rest," Aegon waved a hand, eyes closing. He hummed, head falling back as he laughed, "Recovery." His next breath was deep, shuddering. "Very important."

Every nerve in his body was buzzing. He exhaled, smiling as he pressed his cheek into his pillow. The right side of his neck was just as colorful as the left. Jace's marks didn't throb like the rest of his bruises though.

They burned. Warm reminders of just how much his nephew wanted him. Wanted to claim him. Marry him.

"You've not been sleeping much, my prince," Ser Arryk whispered. A hand brushed through his hair. "Between your morning rides with Sunfyre, flying with your brother, these... nightly visits to the dragon yard..."

"I don't wanna sleep," Aegon wrinkled his nose. He nuzzled at his pillow. "I want..."

Jace. It was always Jace. His nephew's scent lingered in the sheets around him. The younger man had visited him earlier. Had brought him a letter from Daeron that had been wrapped inside the one Joffrey received earlier in the morning.

His little brother had been ecstatic to hear from their nephew, had written several pages answering Joffrey's questions about Tessarion. Another page had been devoted to questions about Tyraxes, about flying with others.

In Aegon's letter, Daeron had included a small charm, for the younger Aegon, for his nameday. But mostly, Daeron had rambled about how much he wanted to fly with them, to show Aegon how gracefully Tessarion soared over the Sunset Sea.

"I'm so happy," Aegon turned over. His hands twisted in the sheets, just as they had earlier when he'd jumped his nephew. Bounced on top of his lap and begged for his cock. For his baby. Jace had kissed him senseless, reduced him to a babbling mess.

Everything he wanted. It was all so close. He could taste it almost as well as he could Jace. Aegon would take his nephew's cock soon, convince him to do whatever it was they needed to prep him.

And then he'd have it all. Everything. He'd be happy. His family would be together. Aegon would never have to worry again. Or be afraid. Or hide his bruises. Not ever again.

Daeron would come home. His mother and Nyra could spoil their grandchild together.

"I don't wanna sleep," Aegon mumbled, brow furrowing, "I wanna be happy." A blanket was tugged out from beneath his legs, pulled over his shoulder.

"Sleep," Ser Arryk insisted, tucking him in. A hand rested on his back. Heavy. A steady weight. "You'll still be happy tomorrow." Aegon whined. "It's your brother's nameday. I'm sure you have all manner of mischief planned."

Laughing softly, Aegon nodded as the exhaustion pulled him under. His body giving in.

Happy. It was so nice being happy. The warmth of his father's smile, aimed at him during their Small Council meeting. His mother's bright eyes when he'd shown her Daeron's letter.

He clung to them, to their approval, to his happy family. It was better than a dream. Certainly better than the dreams that awaited him. Aegon writhed, whimpering in his sleep.

A different warmth waited for him when he slept. Flames of glowing green fire and a chorus of swords singing around him.

"Aegon!" Aemond yelled and he came awake with a start just in time for his brother to tackle him back onto the bed. Aegon shrieked. His brother cackled.

Light was pouring in through his window as they rolled around the bed. Aemond squawked when Aegon elbowed him. They fell onto the floor with a huff.

"You're suppose to let me win," Aemond groused, lips puckering as Aegon pinned him, "It's my nameday."

"And then you'd complain that I let you win," Aegon snorted, tossing his hair back as he sat on his brother's thighs. Aemond's eye shined, the gleam brighter than the sapphire beside it. Brighter than the morning sun even.

A smile cracked his face and Aemond laughed, "Yeah, that's half the fun!" His head fell to the side as Aegon released him.

Eyes rolling, Aegon stood. He dragged his brother to his feet after him and tucked Aemond's longer hair behind his ear. Cupping his face, Aegon smiled, "I should keep the dagger, just to spite you."

"But you won't," Aemond smirked, chin rising smugly. His gaze flicked towards the blade sitting on Aegon's dresser. He rocked backwards on his heels, fingers twitching at his side.

"Take it!" Aegon tossed his head back, laughing as his brother darted across the room. He fell back onto the bed, watching as Aemond inspected the blade. Practically vibrating with excitement as he tied it to his belt.

His little brother was now four and ten. A man grown by some estimates. Aegon smiled as he ducked his head to the pillow. Aemond stood back from the dresser, surveying himself in the mirror. The dagger was adjusted, shifted on his belt to ensure the hilt was visible as he walked.

In his head, a memory flashed. A little boy with silver hair falling into his face as he clutched a dirk with a Velaryon seahorse, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

"I'd have gotten you a sword, but I thought it best not to tempt mother's ire in her condition," Aegon drawled, lowering his voice as he glanced briefly towards the closed door.

Aemond looked over his shoulder at him, smile broad across his face, "This is better." His hand grazed over the dark steel, "It looks like the one father wears." His smile softened, shrinking. His cheeks grew red as he turned back to the mirror, "Do you... do you think he'll notice?"

Throat bobbing, Aemond straightened. The ghost of the toddler who stole Aegon's toys lingered in the warrior standing tall in his bedchamber now. A defiant tilt to his chin. Lips pursed tight as Aemond brushed a hand down the front of his leather surcoat.

"The blacksmith was trying to replicate the blade King Jaehaerys wore when he was an apprentice at the Red Keep," Aegon rose from the bed. He walked up behind Aemond, clipping his chin over his shoulder as he smiled at the reflection in the mirror, "It will garner similar attention, I'm sure."

"Mother said I could participate in the archery competition today," Aemond told him, biting at his lip. Aegon arched a brow. His brother exhaled slowly, hands flexing at his side, "My first tourney, sort of "

Hooking an arm around Aemond's neck, Aegon rose up to plant a kiss on his cheek, "Then I suppose I will attend the archery competition for once." Aemond preened.

"Not dressed like that I hope..." Aemond sighed and Aegon squawked. He shoved his brother away and headed for his wardrobe. "The black one, without the gold," Aemond clicked his tongue.

Aegon rolled his eyes and reached for the doublet in question. Embossed dragons, not stitched ones. They'd nearly match, both of them in black.

They'd match more, even, when Aegon gave his brother the other part of his gift. A wet rag was tossed at his head and Aegon screeched.

"Hurry up! The king called for the whole court to break their fast in the Great Hall," Aemond ducked behind a chair as Aegon threw the rag back at him. He cackled as it hit the ground, "Perhaps if you spent more time in the training yard rather than the dragon yard, you'd be able to hit me."

"And yet I can still best you when half asleep, little brother," Aegon drawled as he started to strip. Eyes narrowed, lips curled back. Aegon grinned, humming thoughtfully, "Perhaps you just need a few more years of practice..."

A snarl preceded his brother's tackle. They tumbled to the floor. The Targaryen guards in the hallway burst in a few moments after the chair broke. Aegon giggled under his brother's hold. He flushed as their eyes fluttered at his state of dress.

"Attacking your injured elder brother while he's vulnerable and exposed, Aem," Aegon sighed, head shaking dramatically as he pouted over his shoulder, "Mother will be so disappointed."

"Cunt," Aemond huffed as he released him. Aegon was dragged back to his feet and the guards swiftly dismissed with a wave of his hand. He reached for a new rag, washing himself swiftly.

A shirt was thrown at his head the moment he turned from the water basin. Aemond was not known for his patience. Aegon, unfortunately, was well known for his antics. Especially where his brother was concerned.

They were going to be late for breakfast. Aegon would make sure of that.