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Vaegor Targaryen's addiction to control and domination started at a young age. When he was 14, he suffered a blow to the head that resulted in a worse blow when he hit the ground during sparring practice. His nephew Jacaerys was apologetic, his elder brothers Aegon and Aemond laughed and simply watched with that cool, judgmental eye respectively. His elder sister Helaena was the one who fled for help. He had to spend two months bedridden, attended by Maesters and handmaidens while he felt a useless fool who couldn't even feed or bathe himself…until he met Ella. A beautiful ginger girl, full bodied, she was a decent bit older than Vaegor, and was the first one to give him the gift of a hardening since the accident. She came in the late hours of the night, and he wondered if this was intentional after the fact. She blushed at first, and Vaegor thought he would too. That's how he normally reacted when he would brush against Helaena's hand at dinner, or when he locked eyes with a handmaiden, or when his mother would grip his arm or shoulder to tell him off. But no, that is not what happened.

She hung over him, brushing his chest with a wet washcloth, the cool liquid feeling splendid against his body, warmed by the candles of the room. Before he knew it, his trousers were taught, and he was moving to release himself from the discomfort in his delirious state. He freed himself, and whether intentional or not, it felt amazing when the cool water running down his chest reached him there. After that went on a while, and Vaegor’s whimpers slowly got louder, a blush hit her face as Ella supposedly just then noticed. She attempted to move away, but a grab of her wrist and a mutter of an order, "Please me, I beg of it" kept her there. The cold water then coated his loins as he became covered in sweat, and Ella's eyes darkened as she came to his neck to kiss it, the salty sweat flavoring her mouth. He still remembered her sweet voice. "Do you like girls with ginger hair, my prince?" He had muttered an agreement. "I know you powerful Targaryens have some unique customs...would you like me to pretend for you?" He opened his eyes. "W-what?" She raised herself above him, and slowly lowered down, helping him slide into her. He gasped loudly, and she covered his moaning mouth with her hands. "Would you like me to be the Queen for you?"

The Queen. His Mother. Alicent Hightower, second wife of the King Viserys Targaryen, his father. Pious, loving, beautiful ginger hair. Ripe, virile body despite her handful of kids and truthfully, the object of Vaegor’s darkest desires. His mother made it clear from a young age that her children were as much Hightowers as Targaryens, and the customs natural to House Targaryen would not be accepted by her. Ironically, telling a young and curious boy not to look lustfully at his sister or mother whilst wearing a low-cut nightgown and having wine on your breath most likely did not warrant the message she had wished. He had ejaculated for the first time later that night.

He nodded as much as his body allowed. Ella massaged his member, squeezing and grinding as she quieted his moans. If he had the opportunity to say yes, he would have said so enthusiastically, but Vaegor didn't think she cared one way or the other. His hand rose to grip her sides and help her, and after a moment he swatted her hand from his mouth and freed a breast from her shirt, taking it in his mouth. Now she had to quiet her moans, and Vaegor rose and sat her on his lap. She moved to his ear again. "Come for mother. Fill your mother up with that Targaryen seed. Use me, breed me." He then knew that Ella had her own sick, twisted desires, but it mattered not to him. He released aggressively and filled her so much it spilled out. He passed out, and was carefully set back down. Maybe seconds or hours later, he could not tell, he was approached by a ginger haired figure, who began tucking him back into his resting area and covered his member with the bedsheets, but not after giving him a kiss on the forehead, which made him leak more.

He never saw Ella again. More Handmaidens came, one would sit across him in a chair and reveal herself, allowing Vaegor to touch himself to her body. Another would only kiss him, which did enough for Vaegor. One, a blond one, the youngest daughter of House Lannister, she was remarkable. She once made him climax while a Maester was preparing his tools to inspect him a handful of feet away. But never Ella. He wondered if he dreamed of her, until the meeting, that was. Otto Hightower was his grandfather, Alicent's father, and best friend to King Viserys Targaryen, as well as his servant via his position as Hand of the King. He sat down with his grandfather in Otto's chambers, wringing his hands with nervousness. "First matter of discussion, you were bested in combat so bad that you needed to be bedridden." Vaegor shrugged. "Jace has been training long-" Otto cut him off. "That matters not. Any time one of Rhaenyra's children makes one of my grandchildren a fool, it is an affront on all of us." Rhaenyra, Viserys's first child with his first wife. His first choice for heir as well. The King had not reinforced his position for years, but technically, Rhaenyra Targaryen and her sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys were heirs, fathered by her since passed husband Laenor Velaryon. As he thought of this, mapping out his mental family tree, Otto’s voice cut through Vaegor’s thoughts. "You will train with Ser Criston Cole daily now. I want you to be as good of a warrior as Aemond. It should be easy as you have twice the eyes." He muttered the last line. Aemond's injury was the result of an encounter the two sides of the families had suffered against each other years prior. Rhaenyra's children, Jacaerys and Lucerys were the object of vitriolic claims of legitimacy leveled by Haedy's brothers. Vaegor was elsewhere when this occurred, playing in the gardens with Helaena. Angers had since been dissipated, but not after Alicent shouted that she would have an eye of Rhaenyra's in retribution. This led to Rhaenyra and her flock fleeing the capitol of King's Landing for some time. That would change soon however.

"The next order..." Otto's voice was annoyed. "You are coming to the age where your interactions with the...women of the court are becoming more important." Vaegor stared at the floor. "Let me be clear: I am not claiming you are not allowed to interact with these girls. For several reasons, I am not. It is not my station, it would be fighting against your nature, et cetera. But, choose wisely. The woman you...interacted with while healing. Ella. She has been...proudly repeating the fact that she has now slept with two of Viserys's sons." Vaegor stared even more intensely at the ground, and while he knew it didn’t matter, he wondered which brother she had been with. "Rumors persisted that she claimed she took Aegon's virginity...and I allowed it. Perhaps she was trying to take power of the situation after Aegon's perverted gaze landed on her. But now, she is bragging that she has taken two prince's virginities. She is also making asinine claims of your fantasies." Vaegor’s vision started to blur from fear, focusing on the inconsequential cracks in the table. "Involving my daughter.” Vaegor mumbled. "I never-" Otto stood. "Silence. my point is...years ago these claims could have eneded a monarchy. But now? We have a network. Spymasters. Solutions to these issues. If one of your misadventures...of any orientation...becomes an issue, you come to me, and they will be dealt with." Vaegor nodded slowly. "Come back here tomorrow morning. Your intelligence requires cultivation, and I don’t want to see it go to waste. That is all." Vaegor arose, lightheaded. He was confused what has even happened, but years later, looking back, he could tell. Otto was all but saying "Aegon only cares about sex, Aemond only cares about fighting. You have enjoyment of both but need your interest in higher things encouraged so you do not become consumed like your brothers." Looking back now, days before his nineteenth nameday, Vaegor had realized how much Otto had saved him. He was nowhere near as good with a blade as Aemond, or as charismatic and beloved as Aegon, but he had considerable skill in both regards now and was more knowledgeable of the histories and warfare tactics than both combined.

Now Vaegor was a man of ten-and-eight, and he had to deal with three elder siblings of varying value. Vaegor, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena sat at the dinner table with their mother, and surprisingly, their father. King Viserys could not usually attend such trivial meetings, but he fought through his sickness for this meal. The two boys present watched the handmaidens as they placed food upon the table, though Vaegor was much more subtle. Alicent noticed both of them, scoffing. After they began eating, Aegon's obnoxious voice rang out. "So, Vae...how are you liking manhood? Your next name-day is soon, it will be a full year of your misadventures!" Alicent smacked his arm. "Do not speak of such things at the table." Vaegor fought a smirk. He liked when his mother was commanding. Heleana spoke up, suddenly paying attention to the conversation at hand. "Are you excited for the celebration, brother?" Vaegor nodded. "I am, yes!" He thought to himself. The handmaidens are going to love giving me gifts. Viserys mumbled weakly. "You should be...Rhaenyra, and Daemon will be in attendance hopefully! As well as the Velaryons." Alicent turned in surprise. "I told you, I invited the whole realm! They should be arriving any day!" Viserys said. Vaegor smiled at the idea of the lovely Nyra returning home...but if the Velaryons were to arrive, it would be difficult looking Rhaenys and Corlys in their eyes. He needed to relieve stress.

The next morning Vaegor sat in his chambers, nude, enjoying the cool air. He admired his body in his full length mirror, his pale hair wavy and messy, reaching his shoulders. He attempted to straighten it out with his hands, and looked over his gently scarred body, results of vigorous training and encounters. One specific gnarly scar in his shoulder was a gift from a bandit. One day when he was 16, Vaegor elected, without the consent of any member of the royal family, to assist the City Watch in a sprawling melee. A sect of thieves had planned an ambitious robbery, and it had resulted in a handful of deaths. Vaegor killed his first man. He thought he would feel something, hoped even. He didn’t care if it was sorrow or glee, if the feeling tormented him or rejuvenated him. He felt naught. Simply put, a Targaryen is not taught to value a lowborn life. He slid his sword through the back of a man, easily, only to turn and be struck down by a slash to his shoulder. He was saved by City Watch Commander Harwin Strong who bashed his assailant's face with a mace before hoisting Vaegor to safety. He still considered it a worthy endeavor, however, because he saved a commoner who was paralyzed in fear, liable to be slaughtered. He felt good saving her, and he felt even better when she was very appreciative and skilled with her mouth when Vaegor returned to greet her a week or so later. He thought of her.

Her name was...Lucinda, Liviera, something foreign. He hardened. He turned to his bed where a woman lay, face down, ripe ass exposed. He knew this one's name. Mya. Dark long hair, flirtatious, adventurous. When he felt especially daring he sought her out, and she was always glad to get out of her Handmaiden duties. He approached as he touched himself. He crept onto the bed gently, and began kissing at her feet, then her ankles. She moaned gently in her sleep, but she definitely awoke when Vaegor began tasting her ass. She shot up, pushed against him instinctually, and whimpered. "Well...good morning my pri-oh, fuck..." Vaegor continued his work, grabbing a nearby vial of lubricant. He began applying it to her hole with one hand while he fingered her pussy with the other hand. "You are so fucking...Gods you're fucking amazing, my prince. Please take me. He rose higher and began pumping into her ass as she moaned, gripping the bedrests. She pushed back against him further, and Vaegor enjoyed it as he looked out over the sea through the large window next to the bed. The rhythmic wet slap of skin rang out proudly. "Round...ruh...round three, huh? W-what's got you so excited?" Mya clearly was struggling to not break down, and Vaegor was proud of it. He normally couldn't get her like this. "Oh, nothing much." He sped up slightly as a ship flying the banner of House Targaryen came into view, striding into the harbor. As the mental image of his mature older half-sister Rhaenyra entered his mind, bent over a bed, whimpering and restrained by him, begging for more. "I have family visiting." She whimpered. "How exciting." She reached back and rubbed his abs. "Would you like me to pretend for you?" He shook his head, grabbed her hand and reached for her other, holding her back as he fucked. "All I need is you, Mya." He thought of Rhaenyra screaming in lust as he filled Mya, and she came as well. "Only you."

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Daemon sat in his quarters aboard the Dreadclaw, his nautical vessel. His brother Viserys had been clear, no Dragons were to be rode to the celebration, as not to encourage rumors of hostility. He had more and more rage in his bones as they neared King's landing, and he needed to deposit it. He approached the bed where a resting Rhaenyra layed, his darling niece and wife. He remembered how good it felt to wed Visery's daughter after her husband died, forever winning their competition to see who could best the other. He approached his wife who was over a decade his younger, and took the covers off her sleeping form. He began massaging himself, and he crawled onto the bed. "Fuck, Daemon!" Was the response he heard when he entered her ass roughly. "You know you love it" he growled. It was hard for her to disagree. For years, it's been like this. It's hard for her to claim he can't be rough, or be perverse in their relationship when the entire reason they formed a union was born of lust. He was so much older and experienced, her father didn't like him. It was a tale as old as time. The fact that Daemon found it more and more difficult to reach hardness in recent years....why not? Why not just let him have his fun, even if she hurt. It wasn't like it would result in any unwanted heirs if he migrated locations, they had tried to produce one enthusiastically to no avail. She already had two sons, so Rhaenyra knew her equipment was fine. As the Dreadclaw pulled into the King's Landing Harbor, Rhaenyra lay there as Daemon grunted.

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Vaegor stood on the docks of King's Landing's harbor, clad in a cloak to fight off the cool breeze. Mya had helped dress him and then limped off about 30 minutes ago, and he now stood there with several guards, Aemond and Helaena. He knew Aegon would not come, and his father couldn't be here due to his health, but he was surprised his mother had not yet arrived. Surely, she would? At the very least the Queen should be here if the King is not. Then he saw her, flanked by guards. Green dress clinging to her figure, groping her breasts, a tight piece of jewelry adorning her throat, as if grasping it. In the late hours of the night, there was nothing Vaegor was more jealous of than Alicient's clothes. He ignored these thoughts and came to her. He bowed politely and took her hand to kiss it. He would have stiffened if he wasn't so cold, if not from the affection he was giving then from the idea that Alicient was holding his hand which was deep in Mya only a moment ago. After the kiss, she hugged him tight. "My son! Seven above, it's been too long." He laughed. "Only a couple days!" She nodded, laughing that pretty laugh. "Well yes, but even though we are both busy, it should not take this long for us to see each other when we live in the same keep!" He nodded in agreement, and tried to hold onto the feeling of her breasts squished against his chest. "After you!" She nodded and walked forward, and the guards took their posts at the ends of the dock, leaving Vaegor free to look his mother up and down from behind. Sometimes his need for her felt too great. He needed her, carnally, spiritually, and most of all physically. He watched her ass move back and forth, and lied to himself. She's moving like that just for me. Her youngest, favorite son. They arrived at the end of the dock, and Vaegor thanked the Seven that Aemond didn't have better peripheral vision. Vaegor was a very tall man, standing at 6'4, much taller than most other members of his family. He was only rivaled by his uncle, brother to his father, Daemon, who was 6'2. Vaegor often forgot his height until he met another person who could rival it. He already thought less of most others, it made sense that they were lower than him. He used his height to look down his mother's shirt often, and right now was no exception. Soft, supple, gentle breasts, staring up at him. His mother was 5'5, and the almost foot difference between them excited Vaegor often. She wouldn't even have to bend down so far to take me into her mouth. Fuck...He cursed himself after realizing he was now rock hard. The increased libido of a Targaryen felt like a curse some days. He saw a Cryer walk to the edge of the ship, and his target would be coming into view soon. Even if he had ultimate power in Westeros, marrying his own mother was ludicrous for many reasons. The odds of producing an heir alone...and that's ignoring the obvious. But his half-sister, who a union with would quell a burgeoning possible civil war? Rhaenyra was a ripe bride, and it didn’t hurt she was also beautiful, a mother, and blood to Vaegor, three things that excited him. Gods, I'm a perverted monster, and somehow, I'm still better than most of us. Only because I hide it. The only issue with wedding Rhaenyra was her second husband, her and Vaegor’s uncle, who appeared in tow with Rhaenyra. The Cryer performed his duties.

"PRESENTING RHAENYRA TARGARYEN, PRINCESS OF DRAGONSTONE AND HER HUSBAND DAEMON TARGARYEN, PRINCE OF DRAGONSTONE!"

He stared into Daemon's eyes, attempting to remind him of the secret they both knew, the power they held over one another. They descend, and Alicient bows to both of them, as they do politely in return. She welcomed them, but her voice was drowned out to Vaegor as he watched Alicient and Rhaenyra, picturing them on top of one another. Rumors persisted for years that they used to be lovers in their youth, and Vaegor gladly imagined it. He had to change his stance to hide his erection. Rhaenyra gave cordial kisses on either cheek to Alicient, and Vaegor watched both of them, picturing them doing more. She then did so politely to both Halaena and Aemond in turn, of course, all while Vaegor and Daemon stared each other down. When Rhaenyra got to Vaegor, he did not avert his gaze until Rhaenyra reached in to give him his first kiss on his left cheek. To aid her, he bent down, and he felt his member dig into her stomach. He moved his eyes to her and blushed, and she chuckled lightly and whispered. "My, my, haven't you grown." She walked back to Daemon, and the group headed to the Keep.

Vaegor found his chambers and freed his cock, ceasing its pressure against his trousers. He gasped as it pulsated. "Seven above...welcome back Sister." Rhaenyra was well his elder, but in his eyes she was the same age as when she left, the better part of a decade ago. He chuckled to himself. She was still much my elder then. He found himself thinking of his family's ages. His father and grandfather both had ages beginning with a six, as did his aunt Rhaenys and her husband Corlys. Rhaenyra and Vaegor’s mother were each only a handful of years away from fourty, but could easily pass as a decade and a half younger. Daemon was almost fifty, and still had no heirs from his two marriages. Then there were his brothers. Aegon was twenty-and-two and still a fool, Helaena was twenty-and-one and still precious. Then Aemond at twenty, and Vaegor at ten-and-nine. Anyone that looked at the four of them could tell Viserys was desperate for heirs. Rhaenyra and the deceased Laenor's boys Jace and Luc sat at ten-and-eight and ten-and-five. He chuckled to himself, thinking of how long it would take Aegon or Aemond to recant this information. He found himself still hard, and decided to seek out a handmaiden to deal with it. Vaegor exited the room, and eventually found Tyresa, an Esossi handmaiden. He knew she probably couldn't speak the common tongue, but he didn't think it mattered. He gently rubbed her arm to get her attention, and she turned, and her deep, thoughtful eyes almost smiled with recognition, as if to say "Ah, you, I know what you want". She placed down the towels she was folding, and gently pushed Vaegor deeper into the Handmaiden chambers, and positioned him behind a stack of towels. He heard the casual conversation of handmaidens beyond the partition. "Athchomaroon anni," she said to him. She freed his member, giggling as it gently hit her lips. Before Vaegor knew what was happening, he had to fight not to make a sound as her tenured hands and mouth went to work. After a moment, with her surprisingly strong arms lifted his leg, placing his thigh over her shoulder and gripping his now exposed ass cheek. It was that which made Vaegor explode in her mouth, which she didn't lose a drop off. He gently lowered to the ground, gasping and holding her waist as she smiled at him. "Gods be damned...you...fuck me." She giggled and kissed his tip, before rising and exiting. Before Tyresa left the room she turned back to him, lifting her dress to flash him, giggling again before leaving. He grabbed a towel and cleaned himself, dropping it on the ground. Vaegor inhaled sharply as he rose, and limped back to his chambers. "Maybe I should take a small break before my next adventure."

He washed himself clean in his bath, sitting and soaking as he thought about the upcoming plans, the entire reasons Rhaenyra's flock was even here in the first place. "My nine-and-tenth name day. How exciting,” he jested to himself. Viserys had extended invitations to the entire realm to come visit, including estranged kin. He was surprised to hear of Rhaenyra coming, however. After her first husband was dealt with and she was threatened by the queen, that was the last thing Vaegor expected of her. A knock rang on his door, and he muttered for them to enter. Vaegor had never been bashful of his body, especially with how open with and how many recent liberties he has taken with the handmaidens. There was no response. He rose and walked over, dripping. As he was about to grab the handle, the door burst open, and slammed shut again before he even had time to hit the floor. The blade of Dark Sister, an ancient Valyrian sword, was aimed at his throat. "Hello, nephew." Daemon's voice was dry like aged blood. "You foolish fucki-" Dark sister was placed against his neck. "Watch your tone, boy. I only wish to discuss some private matters with you." He locked the door. The naked Vaegor scoffed. "Like what?" A devious glint hit Daemon's eyes. "Oh, I don't know." he slowly kneeled, and placed his mouth inches from Vaegor’s ear.

"That time we killed my wife's husband?"

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Aemond found himself weary after his long sparing session with Cole. He had large amounts or rage he wished to channel, and it left him winded. His father extending the olive branch to Rhaenyra, and her bastards. In every sense it should be the other way around. He bid Cole a farewell, and sat, letting the air cool him. He thought of his family. He thought of how Aegon was the eldest boy, and was meant to be the heir should their geriatric father come to his senses. In what world would Aegon make a true King? Not this one. Aemond knew that. He knew it to his core. He also knew he was not the best choice either. I'm unnerving and unbeloved to say the least. If Helaena had a cock, perhaps she would be best. He heard a gentle sound to his right and turned his entire head to find the source with his present left eye. There was Helaena. Stupid, simple, mad Helaena. "Oh for the love of...didn't I tell you not to sneak up on me!" She averted her eyes when his voice rose. "But Aemond, the worms!" He scoffed and dropped his sword, realizing he had used it to point at her. He began undressing from his armor, ignoring her. "You need to stop these ramblings, sister." She shook her head fiercely. "The worm will swallow up the firefly!" Aemond walked off as she followed. "You know, sometimes I think it was you who got hit in the head, and not Vaegor." She released that innocent laugh. "You're so funny Aemond. It's a shame you'll be even more blind soon."

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Daemon withdrew Dark Sister from Vaegor’s throat, and he found himself more envious of his Uncle's blade than ever. "May I get dressed?" Daemon placed a chair under the handle of the already locked door. "Why not?" Vaegor arose and limped to his dresser. As he dressed Daemon looked around the room, hypocritically noting the sex-plagued bed. 'What a disgusting hovel you reside in, Nephew." He turned back, and found a dull dagger at his throat "So, have you come to kill the only witness to our crime?" Daemon laughed. "That murder occurred almost a decade ago, and you were scarcely even a man. If you were to admit to it now, you'd seem mad." Vaegor pushed the dagger into his skin gently. "So why are you here?" Daemon looked down, and Vaegor followed, realizing Dark Sister was an inch away from his heart. "How...?" Daemon laughed as calmly took the blade from Vaegor’s hand. "You know how. It weighs one third the weight of steel, and was made for a woman's hand. I can move this sword faster than almost any man with a dagger." Vaegor gulped, and nodded. "So sit, shut the fuck up, and listen." He obeyed, stumbling into a chair. "Good boy. I am not here to kill you. I am here to present you with the opportunity you deserved all those years ago." Vaegor thought back. Daemon had convinced him to kill Laenor for several reasons. It would allow Daemon to wed Rhaenyra, his oldest love. It would result in his parents, Rhaenys Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon bringing their daughter to court to replace Laenor. Laena was described by Daemon to Vaegor as like him in almost every way, and his perfect match. Daemon also convinced him of Laenor's atrocities. "He lay with men and boys. He's sick." Vaegor’s hatred for Daemon was born from Laenor's murder, the only outcome being the one Daemon wished for. Corlys and Rhaenys fled the capital, Daemon wed Rhaenyra and fled a year later, and Vaegor was alone. He never thought to complain however. He kept guard while Daemon slit an innocent man's throat. Vaegor didn't deserve anything. To make matters worse, Vaegor convinced himself later that he helped Daemon flee, as a drunken and vague apology to Luc, Laenor's son, was the reason for the encounter that stole Aemond's eye. “Help me retake the Stepstones.” When Daemon first fled King’s Landing after being accused of a tryst with a teenage Rhaenyra, he went to the Stepstones, a smattering of islands off the coast of Westeros. He formed an army, composed of many of Corlys Velaryon’s men, and took the Stepstones from the pirate triarchy who resided there. There he made decent friends with Corly’s son Vaemond. Vaegor was taken aback. “Why would I do that…how could I? Why would you want to? Why-” Daemon scoffed. “For the love of-cease with the questions!’ Daemon explains. “Now that I am back in King’s Landing, I do not plan to leave. My wife will be Queen when Viserys kicks the bucket. Do you know what that will make me?” Vaegor nods. “I need a resume, one that does not include losing the Stepstones to pirates again simply because I was ordered to return after I won my war!” Vaegor looked at the ground as he was shouted at. “I would like some of Alicient’s kin involved in this, mainly to show unity. You and Aemond are good fighters.” Vaegor looked up. “Is that all?” Daemon shrugged. “I said mainly.” Daemon stood. “Maybe one day you’ll earn this.” He sheathed Dark Sister. “If you earn it.” Daemon exited the room, and Vaegor stood there, cold and emasculated.

He arrived at his training session with Ser Criston amped up and rageful. Cole was already dressed in his training garb, and tossed a blunted sword to Vaegor , who caught it. “Right into it today, my prince?” Vaegor nodded, and Criston approached, allowing Vaegor to tire himself out. Vaegor levied large swings at Criston, who focused only on blocking them. Unknown to both, Alicent watched from above, sipping wine on a catwalk. After Criston dodged a large swing that caused Vaegor to slam onto the ground, they paused, and Criston motioned for a squire. “No!” Vaegor growled. “I need to talk to you.” Cole motioned for the present squires and Handmaidens to leave the area. Cole helped Vaegor plop into a chair, and set a flagon of water in front of him. He began taking off his training armor as Vaegor gulped. Vaegor spoke in between drinks. “You served her once, no?” Cole cocked his eye. “Who, your highness?” Vaegor breathed in deeply. “My sister. Rhaenyra.” Cole nodded. “I served her, I protected her, my prince.” Vaegor noted the grim look on his face. “You bristle at the mere mention of her name, Ser Criston. Tell me, why such venom?” Cole drank the water himself now, sitting. “My service was sworn, my sword pledged. Nothing else, my prince.” Vaegor did not particularly ever believe the rumors, but now he needed to know. He thought of how Aegon would do this. “"Served her… or served her? Did she smile at you when you swore your vows? Did she tempt you to take off your White Cloak? Gods, did you bed her, Ser Criston? Did the Realm’s Delight delight you as well?" Criston stood up swiftly, and Vaegor sat back, chuckling. “I am no whore to gossip, my prince. The vows of the Kingsguard are sacred. Whatever foul tales are told of me, they were sown by those who would see me ousted from my position as a loyal servant of his grace.” Vaegor nodded emptily. “Yes, yes, we all love my father. Trust me Criston, I do not care. I simply want to know, did you both..” Criston grimaced. “Why?” Vaegor stood, and placed the flagon in his hands. “Call me curious. I am…currently without wife.” He walked off, and Cole watched him leave in confusion. He looked up to the catwalk, seeing it empty.

Otto was sitting in his office writing when Vaegor entered. “Could you at least bathe before coming here after you swing swords like a brute, grandson?” Vaegor apologized, and sat. The two discuss the presence of Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jaecerys and Lucerys in the capital. “Why do you think father made sure they came?” Otto sighed. “I fear he will make a point to relegitimize your sister.” Vaegor cocked his head. Rhaenyra was always heir, that never changed...and why would Otto care? Otto scoffed. “Do not be a fool son. Why would I prefer to have, say…Aegon on the throne, instead of Rhaenyra?” Vaegor nodded in recognition. “Alicent’s line is of your blood.” Otto clapped sarcastically. “Now you understand.” It all hit Vaegor at once. They were not one house. There was Rhaenyra’s line, and Alicent’s line, and fools who had not yet chosen a side, King fool among them Viserys Targaryen, First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Father to five living children, who truthfully only cared for one. Otto could see it in the boy's eyes. Sadness and grief and abjection, realizing he lost a throne and love he never truly even thought he had.”Are you excited for your nameday celebration, son?” Vaegor arose, his throat dry and his eyes burning. “I’m not your fucking son.” He stormed out as Otto scoffed. “Just as ungrateful as your mother.” Vaegor halted in the hall. How dare he? How dare he…Vaegor knew he was a fool. Who knew Alicent better than her own father? Otto was always right. Vaegor knew that. He remembered the sting on his knuckles from the rappings Otto would gift him when he spoke up. Otto was always right.

He sought out his sister. He had not spoken with Helaena in some time, and wanted her comfort. Vaegor found her where he always did, in the gardens. Helaena was humming to herself as she allowed an insect to dance around her hand. Vaegor cleared his throat to announce himself. She turned her attention to him, locking those beautiful violet eyes on him. “Brother!” She sat up, and embraced Vaegor, who hugged her tightly. His elder sister was a sweet girl, and held admiration for everyone. She felt skinny in his arms. Most Targaryen women were more than beautiful. Astonishing. Full bodies and powerful voices. Halaena on the other hand was more comely, small breasted, and quiet. “Are you feeling okay?” Her cool palm touched his damp forehead. “I am feeling quite well, I swear it.” He was swiftly sat down on a stone bench by her. “I will be right back, stay here.” Her voice was gentle, yet commanding and nurturing. Like their mother’s. In a flash she returned, and led him to her chambers. He followed, making sure no one followed. “Shirt off.” Vaegor smirked, choked down an inappropriate comment, and complied. Halaena set a bucket of water down and dipped a wash cloth in it. She hummed some more as she washed his back and chest, tracing his scars with her fingers. “And so he spoke…and so he spoke…” Vaegor simply closed his eyes and listened. For a moment, it was blissful, and they both sat there, letting their bodies do the motions while their minds rested. Halaena gently gripped Vaegor’s bicep, and he ignored it, letting her enjoy herself. She gently massaged his sore muscles, and discreetly rubbed her thighs together. Vaegor found himself thinking of Ella, how she aided him in the same way, Well, mostly the same way. He heard a sharp inhale, and he opened his eyes, Halaena was staring downward, and he looked too. Fuck. An obvious steeled cock sat in his trousers. “Shit…I’m sorry, Halaena.” She hummed, and looked away, and went behind him. “Don’t worry! I can ignore it.” Her voice sounded sweet. So sweet. “Just…do whatever you need to. You deserve to feel good, your body has clearly been through much.” Vaegor was bewildered. She couldn't mean…? She gripped his shoulders, working the tense flesh and Vaegor released an involuntary moan that encouraged her efforts. Fuck it. I deserve this. Without hesitation he freed his manhood. He did not touch it at first, just let it breathe, and Halaena did not seem to mind. He slowly began moving his hand up and down, attempting to be discreet. “Please do not deprive yourself on my account, little brother." He twitched. He wanted to take her here so bad, tear her clothes off and use her. But no. He had been given an inch, he wouldn't take a mile, not from her. He did not hold back now, openly jerking his cock. He moved a hand back and gripped her thigh. She gasped. He stopped. “I’m sorry, is that oka-” She moved his hand back. “Get a good grip. Whatever you need.” He gripped her thigh in one hand and pleasured himself with the other. His torso was coated with water now, and her hands ran down his chest. He felt a kiss on the back of his head. “Are you close, brother?” He whimpered, and wondered, how was it something like this could be better than most of the sex he had ever had. Was it love, did he love Halaena? Like a man should love his wife? “Do you want to help?” He whispered. She giggled. “I thought I was?” She sounded innocent even while he could feel her hump his back. “Very well,” he smiled. He worked hard to finish for her. As Vaegor felt himself near, he could hear moaning in his ear. He turned his head slightly, and without either of them meaning to, their lips embraced as Vaegor painted the floor in front of him with thick, long strands. Her lips were gentle, and her tongue tasted nice. She pulled back after a moment, and the two stared into each other's eyes. Her dress was soaked at the front, and his cock leaked more. He muttered an apology, and she shook her head. “No! It’s fine, I’m glad you could..” She trailed off. “I should clean up.” She whispered to herself. He nodded. “Of course.” Vaegor got his clothes on as she watched, and walked briskly to the door. Halaena watched as he did so, moving back and forth on the armrest of a chair without Vaegor noticing.

The next morning, Vaegor exited his quarters after a brief bath and snack. He walked the halls of the Red Keep, and spotted a new handmaiden, thinking to himself that she probably was a member of Rhaenyra's retinue. Rhaenyra…eldest daughter Rhaenyra…favorite child Rhaenyra. Aegon’s voice drew his attention. “You would serve my sister dutifully wouldn’t you? Why not polish my cock as well as you do hers.” He exhaled a series of drunken giggles. Aegon had a handmaiden clutched by the hem of her dress. Vaegor walked over and smacked his hand, and Aegon feigned offense. “How dare you lay your hand on the King’s eldest son!” Vaegor took Aegon’s collar and led him to his room, only slightly enraged. He had to do this much in their youth. In Aegon’s quarters, he opened another bottle and began chugging. “Seven, what’s gotten into you?” Aegon shrugged and wiped his mouth. “Nothing! I am just celebrating my young brother's adulthood! We will all be men and women soon! Let the marriages fly free!” Vaegor rolled his eyes. “Mother didn’t care about marriages all through our lives. Why would she mandate it now?” They both know Viserys didn’t care. Aegon replied. “Rhaenyra wasn’t here for much of our adulthood, brother. The ever present thread of the eldest child.” He hiccuped as Vaegor tossed him into his bed after easily lifting him up. Aegon muttered. “Eldest child…favorite child.” Vaegor nodded. He felt Viseryes had always made it clear. Until Aegon muttered again, and Vaegor realized that each member of this family must have their own views of the King’s opinion. “Eldest child…versus…the favorite child.” Vaegor looked down in confusion. “What? You think you’re the favorite?” He scoffed. Aegon giggled. “What? No, brother. You. You’re father’s favorite.”

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Daemon crept through the ancient passages of the Red Keep, his loins aching. Sex with Rhaenyra had become so stale, especially on the boat. He turned a corner and saw her, the short, cloaked figure, and object of his desires, presently at least. Mysaria turned to Daemon, and smiled that coy, seductive smile. Daemon explored her mouth and pulled her by the waist into him. “You always seem stronger in the darkness, my king.” Daemon mumbled in agreement. “It’s been too long since I’ve felt your cunt.” He moved his hands under her cloak, feeling her loose clothes underneath. She moaned as he found her. “I will assist your ascension soon, my king.” She stifled moans as Daemon started entering his fingers. “I will sit on the Small Council. I will influence whoever I need to.” She whispered in his ear. “Then I will give you children, and we will rule this country.” Daemon growled. “Just bend over, you whore.” She obeyed, and lifted off his fingers. Mysaria sauntered over to a table as Daemon undid his pants. She slowly bent over while staring back at him, and placed her head directly against the table. Daemon hardened as he saw Mysaria lift her cloak over her ass, revealing herself. “Just try and stay still, my White Worm.”

Chapter Text

In the morning, Vaegor wakes up to a gentle knocking. He groans out loud. “WHAT?” A quiet, feminine voice replies. “It is your nameday, my prince. You are ten-and-nine.” Vaegor rose, rubbed his temples and muttered. “No thank you. I wish to return it.” As he dressed, he made an effort to look presentable. He knew his mother would have an ornate outfit set up for him for the dinner, but for now, a simple outfit would do. As he finished, he heard a light rapping on the door. He truthfully was so exhausted from how eventual these last few days were, he couldn't care less who it was. “Come in.” Halaena entered. He perked up. “Sister!” She scurried over and threw her arms around him. “Happy Nameday!” He lifted her up in a hug, and carefully set her down as they both laughed. Vaegor smiled for a moment, and Halaena looked up at him with admiration, and those pale violet eyes made him decide he didn't want to hold back anymore. He kissed her deeply. After a moment of surprise, she returned. He moved his hands to her hips, and as she rubbed his chest, they moved to her ass. He squeezed with both hands, and she whimpered into his chest. “Halaena, I-” She pushed a finger to his lips. “I want this…I want it so bad. But I don’t want to talk about it.” She averted eye contact. “Very well. I’ll put my mouth to use elsewhere.” He kneeled slowly as she blushed, and before he knew it he was lifting her frilly dress and passionately tasting her while her hands wrung Vaegor’s shoulders. Her cunt tasted like every fruit mixed into one, and he mumbled gratitudes as she whined. She rocked her hips against her face, and Vaegor gripped her ankles for stability. As she filled his mouth in one large release, Haedys gripped harder. He resurfaced, and keeled over onto the bed, and Halaena plopped onto a chair. Deep inhales were the only sound filling the room, until a knock. They both shot up and attempted to make the room look presentable. Haedys took some water from a flagon and cleaned his face. As Halaena was about to ask who it was, Alicent barged in. “Vaegor, I-oh, Halaena, good, you’re both here. I wanted to let both of you know that his Grace has decided to change the seating arrangement.” She held both their shoulders. “Vaegor will sit between both of us tonight during the feast, me and his Grace.” Halaena was so quiet you could hear a coin drop, and Vaegor attempted to power through his shame. “Oh, why?” Alicent rubbed his chin, feeling the water on his stubble. “He wanted to present you to the room! Were you about to shave!” Vaegor nodded, fighting his blush. “Yes, just about to!” Alicent shoved him into a chair, and opened a drawer. “Let me, you always miss a spot or two.” Halaena left the room, barely even mentioning an excuse, and Alicent paid her no mind as per usual.

He didn’t want to, but Vaegor tried to lower his erected cock. But as he watched his mother take off her shawl and expose her neckline, it cemented. She wet his face more, gripping his chin and spreading the water. He only got harder. “You need to be wetter, son. Remember, always wetter!” She began shaving him, and he fought eye contact. After a moment, she muttered. “I need a better angle.” She went to clean the razor, and Vaegor quickly put his cock in his waistband. Thank the Seven he did, as Alicent returned and sat on his lap. His eyes largened but he stared at the ground, feeling her stomach bump into his sheathed head every now and then. She has never done anything like this before. Is it intentional? Flirting? A Nameday present? He fought every instinct to fuck her sore that he could. “There you go, sweet boy.” She moved his chin to the right and left, looking at him with scrutiny. “Why are you so hard?” Vaegor’s eyes widened even more and his mind went blank. “Why are you so hard to let go? I wish you stopped growing up.” He chuckled, and she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We’ll find you a wife soon enough. We both know you deserve one.” He only now noticed it, but there was the faint smell of wine on her tongue. “I am fine with no wife for as long as possible, I promise” he chuckled. She nodded slowly. “Yes…that would be nice.” She raised herself slowly, but dropped the razor. She giggled. “Silly me.” Vaegor watched as Alicent slowly bent over, her dress tightening around her perfect ass. Vaegor shamelessly rubbed his cock discreetly, and Alicent raised up, plopping the razor on the desk. She looked back, smirking. “I hope I was of some help, son. See you tonight.” She sauntered off, and Vaegor sat there. “All that, and I didn’t even come?”

Vaegor slept with three more women before that night, hoping he could diffuse his urges. A tight Pentoshi woman old enough to be his mother, a whore from the Crownlands who made him grip his bedsheets while she worked him, and an eager young northerner who would make her ancestors proud with how much she could take up her ass. However, when he entered the hall the customary 30 minutes after everyone else, right before his parents, it was impossible. Helaena sat there with a thin, tight dress that made even her breasts look like a handful. Daemon was flanked by the gorgeous Rhaenyra, but also a mysterious olive skinned woman who looked like she could chew up Vaegor and spit him back out before he could say “Thank you.” He was escorted as customary by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Criston Cole, and the Commander of the City Watch Ser Harwin Strong. He remembered seeing Rhaenyra escorted for one of her namedays, and getting a hard-on, knowing both were rumored to be fucking her. He sat down at the head of the table, having to suffer hundreds of looks. He knew soon they would be trained on his parents flanking him, but for now, it was just Vaegor. He waved, flashed his pearly pale teeth, all the things Alicent had drilled into him, and sighed. Fuck...I'm hard again. Otto came next, and Vaegor waited for him to announce his parents. But that didn't happen. "Before I introduce your righteous rulers, his Grace and her Grace King Viserys and Queen Alicent, I have one bit of news to share with you all!" Vaegor caught an imperceptible grimace striking his face before he continued. "The Lady Mysaria of Princess Rhaenyra’s retinue will be joining the Small Council as the Master of Whispers starting tomorrow, following Lord Larys’s sudden demise." The court murmured with surprise. Larys had passed? Vaegor looked to Harwin, Larys’s brother. Shock. Vaegor’s grandfather aimed his hand towards the woman next to Daemon, and claps erupted. Before Vaegor had time to process what this meant, who this woman was, his grandfather was introducing his parents.

As he whipped back around, he saw his parents descending, and fell in love for the hundredth time. His mother was wearing a green dress that accentuated her breasts, with generous cleavage. The look of them smashed together made him release a small, involuntary moan. First this morning, then now. Was she trying to kill him? They moved to sit. First Alicent helped pull out Viserys's chair, and he said his thanks as he plopped down, exhaling heavily. He mumbled something reminiscent of congratulations to Vaegor, and he realized Viserys must have been in one of his frequent lucid states. Alicent ran her fingers across Vaegor’s shoulders as she sat on his left, and then held his hand. "I love you, honey." She leaned over, and kissed his cheek before whispering. "So much. Remember that." He could swear he felt the tiniest lick before she retreated. They sat and ate, and it took all Vaegor could muster to not eye-fuck his two sisters. As he took a large gulp of wine, his eyes moved from Helaena to Nyra, and they locked eyes. Rhaenyra stared for a moment, before she winked, and gently and discreetly rubbed one of her breasts without breaking eye contact. She then went back to eating, and Vaegor sighed, while mentally adding her to the list of older women who seemed to enjoy tormenting him. He didn't even understand what his life was anymore. He knew the smallfolk had real problems. Poverty, famines. Taxes...were a thing. Vaegor's problems were just women throwing themselves at him. But no, he told himself. This is still fucked. This is my family doing this. The people I trust to be normal. None of this is normal and everyone pretends it is. I know it isn't. As normal, the thoughts fled from his head when he turned and saw his mothers tits. What amazing tits they were. Ripe and full and Gods, he wanted to fuck them and paint her face, drown her in come. He focused on his food. At some point, Viserys retired to his chambers, which was not unusual for these longer events. Then it was just Vaegor and Alicent. The hall had grown warm with drink and laughter, the air thick with the smell of roasted boar and spiced wine, and Vaegor had most likely had too much to drink. He found himself staring at Alicent’s chest without shame, and did not realize until she lowered herself to match his eyes. A blush hit his cheeks, and he quickly averted his eyes. Alicent giggled. “Mother…I-” She waved a hand and drank. “Oh, shush. I just figured you were a bit old for that, is all. A man of your age should really have more couth and decorum, especially when looking over a lady.” She looked away, drinking as her breath quickened. Daemon rose suddenly, goblet in hand, his silver hair catching the candlelight. “My dear family,” Daemon began, his voice cutting through the loud discussions. “I drink to Viserys, our dear King, our brother, our father, whose reign has endured longer than any could have wagered.” A few nervous laughs rippled through the hall. Alicent stiffened, fingers tightening around her cup. Vaegor watched her fingers flex. “And yet, there are enemies who think our King has grown soft. Pirates and sellsails festering like barnacles upon the Stepstones. They mistake patience for weakness. That is why, by the King’s own grace, I shall cleanse those waters anew.” Murmurs broke out. He turned his gaze to Vaegor. “And I shall not go alone.” Vaegor blinked, his heart dropping.

“Prince Aemond will sail at my side, as will Ser Vaemond Velaryon who will command the fleet, as is his duty. And my dear nephew Vaegor…” He grinned, raising his cup toward him. “…will come as well. A man grown now, a man of nine-and-ten, and ready to spill blood that is not his own.” The hall erupted, cheers, gasps, whispers. Aemond smirked. He was known to dabble in conflicts, often riding around the Crownlands and inserting himself in ongoing efforts, but Vaegor’s singular involvement in a skirmish almost led to his death. Alicent’s hand slammed against the table, the sharp sound silencing half the crowd. “He is not ready for war.” Daemon didn’t flinch, only lowering his goblet while staring into his sister-in-law’s eyes. “Neither was I, when I first carved my name into the histories. But war shapes princes faster than peace ever could.” Viserys, weary and pale, stood bewildered by the commotion in the doorway, flanked by Kingsguard. Evidently he wished to return to the fear. “What… what’s this about war?” he rasped, but Daemon bowed low and said smoothly, “Merely fulfilling your will, brother. The pirates defy your crown and your blood will answer.” Alicent rose from her seat, face pale with fury. “You twist his words before they’re even spoken.” Daemon’s grin widened. “Then let him speak, sister. Let him tell us he would rather let his sons rot in silk than breathe salt and fire, as is our war.” Vaegor felt every eye turn to him. He wanted to speak, to refuse, to protest, but the blood in his veins pulsed hot. The idea of war, of proving himself beyond the suffocating court, lit something inside him he couldn’t deny. “I will go,” he said quietly, then repeated louder. Alicent’s head snapped toward him, betrayal and hurt flashing in her eyes. But Daemon only raised his cup higher. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “Tomorrow, we prepare. The realm shall know its princes still remember how to bleed.” The hall thundered with applause and the scrape of chairs as Daemon drained his goblet and flung it to the floor. The clang rang like a bell of war. Alicent whispered in his ear. He expected violence, cursing, but she muttered something else. “Find me before you go.” She gripped his thigh. “I will make you stay.” She marched off, and Vaegor stared, enjoying the sight.
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Mysaria sat cross-legged on a cushion in the dim quiet of the Red Keep’s lower chambers, her eyes half-lidded as she listened to the soft breathing of the night. A single candle burned beside her, its flame swaying with every draft that slipped beneath the door. Larys Strong’s ring lay upon the table, emblazoned with a firefly, his personal sigil. She turned it between her fingers once, twice, before placing it atop a sealed letter. “Send this to Harrenhal,” she told her attendant, one of Rhaenyra's serving girls. “Let Ser Harwin is to receive his brother’s inheritance and information regarding his brother's activities.” The servant nodded and departed soundlessly. Mysaria leaned back, smiling faintly. Larys had been clever, but clever men always thought themselves irreplaceable. Now, she was the Master of Whispers, and the King’s city hummed with her threads. She rose, padding to the window. The night wind carried the distant cheers from the feast, the rumble of drums and song. Somewhere above, Daemon would be toasting his victory before it was won. She liked him best like that. Drunk on false confidence, blind to her hand guiding his cup. Tomorrow, she would tell Rhaenyra the truth of Larys’s fall. She would tell her it was a gift, a clearing of the path, a quiet favor from her and Daemon both. Harrenhal's halls would be free of Larys's prying eyes for her visits to Ser Harwin, and she would watch to see whether Rhaenyra raged or smiled. Either would please her. The candle guttered. “Let them play their wars,” Mysaria whispered to the darkness. “I’ll win mine in silence.” She found her loins growing in heat as she thought of Alicent. Rhaenyra had never admitted, but Daemon often confided in Mysaria that he suspected the two…well…fucked in their youth, and he enjoyed the idea of ravaging Alicent and discovering how Rhaenyra was as a younger fuck, before Daemon got to her. Perhaps right before a departure would be the perfect time to act on his sickness, perverted thoughts. She slinked a hand lower to her thighs. Perhaps he would need help fucking her.

Chapter Text

Daemon stressed Rhaenyra the more and more they talked. It seemed Daemon's presence in the city enraged him, and he took it out on Rhaenyra. Not physically, of course, those moments were rare. He simply complained, badgered, made day to day life consistently difficult. She had not felt the sweet release she deserved in weeks, as their encounters on the naval passage there had made her seasick. Daemon still got his, of course, whether he used her or Mysaria’s ass. She found herself thinking of the men of the court. Criston… Been there, done that. Adventurous, yes, but repulsingly obsessive. Aemond had the unsettling presence of Daemon but lacked his charisma. Vaegor was simply too eager. She saw the way he was eye fucking her at the docks. Aegon... That would be interesting. She propped a pillow behind her and sat up straighter. Handsome enough. Rumors of debauchery, yes, but this meant experience, and he had a cute face to boot. She slowly crept her nightgown up. He was barely taller than her, which would make him kneeling to feast on her even easier. He seemed controllable, most likely would not complain if his face was used as a seat for a lengthy time. She found herself leaking, and began aiding the flow. She bit her lip. Aegon… What a fun fuck he would be. God he wouldn't fight back on anything. She could probably penetrate him with something and he would thank her. Rhaenyra wanted to think that she also was making a political move as well, manipulating her brother, the only other apparent heir, but in truth she simply needed cock.

She knocked on his doorway and began to unbutton her tight dark overcloak. Aegon pulled open the door, mumbling. “I told you handmaidens, no bothering me unless you’re going to suck my-” Aegon stared. Rhaenyra chuckled, and finished the final button, at her waist. “Sister…I-” she placed a hand on his naked chest and moved him backwards as he dropped an empty bottle. She locked the door behind them, and stared down at his flaccid cock. “Well…we aren’t going to get anything done with that, are we?” He blushed as she opened her coat, revealing her chest and shaved pussy. Nyra gripped his neck, and he slumped to his knees at her non-verbal command. “Eat my fucking pussy, Aegon.” Her voice was but a whisper, but you could swear she had yelled it due to how fast and eagerly Aegon obeyed. She felt him lap away, and before she knew it his fingers explored her as well. She cried out, her hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer. His thumb rubbing against her clit. He added another finger, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding. She could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling in her belly, the need for release growing with each stroke. She moaned, her hips moving in time with his touch. She covered his arm in liquid as he moaned joyously. She came with a cry, her body convulsing, her hips grinding against his. “Nyra…can I…may I please…” She pulled him up by his arm, and led him to his messy, come-stained bed. She dropped her coat to the ground and crawled onto the bed. “Well? Are you going to take me, or just lay there like a boy who doesn’t know how his cock works?” She grinned mischievously. He crawled slowly, trying not to fall over during his drunken stupor. He positioned himself behind her as she wiggled her ass. He slipped in, and she moaned exaggeratedly. His cock was average in every way, but he didn’t have to know that.

Aegon's body tensed as he held himself back, his cock pulsing inside her, the heat of their bodies entwined. He looked down at Rhaenyra, her eyes glazed over with pleasure, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He could see the desire in her eyes, the need for more. He withdrew slowly, his cock sliding out of her, the wetness of their lovemaking coating his length. She moaned, her body arching off the bed, her hips seeking his touch. She looked back at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation. He lifted her hips, his cock pressing against her tight hole. She gasped, her body tensing, her hands gripping the sheets. He leaned down, his lips trailing down her spine, his teeth nipping at her skin. He was rough, demanding, eager, his touch leaving marks on her skin, his body begging to claim hers. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, his touch light and teasing. She moaned, her body writhing beneath him, her hips grinding against his. He continued his assault, his fingers working in tandem with his cock, his touch driving her closer and closer to the edge. She came once more, her body convulsed and came with a growl, his body collapsing on top of hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He rolled off her, his body lying beside hers, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. She turned her head, her eyes meeting his, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Rhaenyra's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she looked up at Aegon, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "You know, I've always been curious about your...unique tastes," she whispered, her voice laced with a playful challenge. Aegon's eyes narrowed slightly, his breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "And what makes you think I have any?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. She smiled, her hand trailing down his chest, her fingers dancing over the sparse muscles beneath his skin. "Oh, Aegon," she purred, "I've seen the way you look at your mother. The way you crave her attention, her touch." Aegon's body stiffened, his eyes widening slightly as Rhaenyra's words struck a nerve. She could see the shock in his eyes, the denial, but she also saw the flicker of desire. Aegon's breath hitched, his body tensing as Rhaenyra's fingers reached his sore cock. She could feel his heart racing beneath her touch, his body responding to her words, her touch. He groaned, his hips jerking, his body arching against her touch. She smiled, her fingers stroking him, her touch gentle yet firm. "You see, Aegon," she whispered, her voice filled with a dark hunger, "I know exactly what you need." She could see the desire in his eyes, the need for more. She leaned in, her lips capturing his in a fierce kiss, her tongue invading his mouth. He moaned into her mouth, his body writhing beneath her touch, his hands gripping her hair, his nails digging into her scalp. She broke away, her fingers trailing down his chest, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She positioned herself on top of him, her body straddling his, her hands gripping his wrists, pinning them above his head.

He groaned, his body tensing, his hips thrusting against hers, his cock pressing against her entrance. She smiled, her body lowering, grinding against his, her wetness coating his length. She could see the desire in his eyes, the need for more. She could feel the heat of their bodies entwined, the passion between them a force of nature. She broke away, her eyes filled with a dark hunger, a primal need. "I want you to imagine it's her," she whispered. "I want you to imagine it's your mother, her touch, her kiss, her body." Aegon's eyes widened, his body tensing as Rhaenyra's words struck a nerve. She could see the shock in his eyes, the denial, but she also saw the flicker of need. His hip’s movement increased, and he began fucking her like she deserved. “Mommy…mommy…” She rested her arms on his shoulders and helped his speed. “That's it, let Mommy drain your cock with her pussy.” Aegon stuttered as she used him, the alcohol tainting his perspective. “Oh…mother, Alicent your body is so fucking…” Rhaenyra smiled something sick and twisted. “Mother loves you, Aegon.” She moved one of his hands to one of her ass cheeks, helping him squeeze. “Fill mommy up.” Aegon began whimpering. “Mommy…Mommy, I-” She felt his seed coat her womb, and gasped. He let out a sound of pure pleasure, and practically passed out. She lifted herself off of him, and watched with satisfaction as he dripped out of her. She began getting dressed as Aegon fell into his dreams. “Alicent…”