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sena-seastar · 9 months ago

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The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: descriptions of burns and other injuries

A/n: There may be medical inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. As always, dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

Agana descended from the sky with a painful-sounding call. The noise pained Aerys more than the burns he had received at Rook’s Rest. He turned his head, observing the messy, hastily bandaged wounds. He had been offered milk of the poppy, but Aerys had declined—something he was sorely regretting now as the pain steadily crept up on him. It wasn’t the actual burns that hurt so much as it was the skin around it that was burned less severely. The more severe burns on his shoulder and arm still felt numb. He could feel a slight warmth, but that was it.

Agana dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Aerys groaned; the pain in his arm flared as his body jerked forward. He kept his right arm clutched tightly to his chest as he struggled to lift himself off his saddle. Painful whimpers escaped his throat with every move he made. Aerys had no choice but to slide off of the side of Agana’s body as he had done at Rook’s Rest. He did not believe he would be able to climb down with only one arm. He kept his knees bent, trying to ease the shock of his jump. He stumbled but was able to steady himself before he could fall.

Aerys looked around, watching as the dragon keepers made their way towards them. Their eyes widened as they observed the silver dragon’s wounds. The distress on their faces was evident. It made sense. The dragon keepers worship the dragons. They see them as gods.

To see one of their gods return in such a broken state must have filled them with overwhelming despair. He shifted uncomfortably as their eyes shifted onto him. They looked at him with such loathing it made him feel ill. They must hate him. They must believe he is not worthy of being bonded to such a beautiful creature. In that, perhaps they were right. Agana was only injured because of him. The silver beauty deserved much better than him.

Agana trilled, trying to get his attention. He turned to her, watching as she moved her head closer to him. Aerys lowered his head, resting it against the side of her face.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

No matter how many times he said it, it never felt like enough. How could words ever be enough to make up for the pain she had endured? Agana called to him. The sound gave him some comfort. She pulled away, growling at the dragon keepers who approached them. Aerys rubbed a hand over the scales on her neck, calming her down.

Aerys led her back to her cave, himself. He stayed with her, rubbing a comforting hand over her snout, lulling her to sleep. The searing pain in his arm was becoming even more challenging to endure, but he did it for her.

“Lord Reyne!” A shaky voice called out to him.

Areys turned his head, watching the unknown Hightower knight cautiously move towards the cave. The man stopped, standing a couple of feet away from the gate. Terror filled the man’s face as his eyes observed Agana.

“What is it?” Aerys asked impatiently, wishing for the man to go away.

The man stared at Agana for another moment before flinching. He quickly turned his head towards Aerys.

“The lord hand has ordered me to inform you that they have returned to the city.”

Aerys’ eyes widened. Aegon was here. He stood to his feet. Agana tried to raise her head, but Aerys pressed a hand against her snout. He leaned down, resting his head against hers.

“You must stay,” he replied sorrowfully. “I will return as soon as I can.”

Agana whined but remained still. Her body was too exhausted and in too much pain for her to move around. It broke Aerys’ heart to leave her in such a state.

“Rest now, Agana.”

He rubbed his hand over her scales one last time before turning away. His eyes filled with tears as she let out distressed chirps, trying to call him back to her. Aerys clenched his fist, trying desperately to ignore every fiber of his being that was telling- screaming at him to go to her side.

Aerys returned to the red keep, escorted by the four Hightower knights Ser Criston had sent to retrieve him. The trip had not been nearly as quick as Aerys would have liked. As he made his way through the city, he quickly noticed the palpable uneasiness and fear among the smallfolk as they eyed him warily and whispered to each other. He could not blame them. He had heard of the horrid display Ser Criston had put on for them as he made his way through the city.

The dragons were the symbol of House Targaryen, his mother’s house. They were the true power and strength behind their family; they would have been lost without them. To present Melyes’ head as if it were nothing more than some hunting prize ... it was a terrible ignominy. Aerys was glad he had not been there to witness it. The thought of it made him ill and filled his heart with a great uneasiness. The people believed the dragons to be gods and the Targaryens, by extension. They believed them to be invincible. Ser Criston had just proved to them that they were not.

Aerys pushed past the small team of maesters who were awaiting his return in the outer courtyard.

“Lord Reyne, please!” They called out, running behind him.

The man paid them no mind. He had to get back to Aegon. He needed to know if he had survived the journey. Aerys had been unable to ride by Aegon’s side, as he had to fly with Agana back to the Dragonpit. The last time he had seen Aegon, they were placing his broken body into a wooden box. Ser Criston insisted that the king’s body had to remain hidden. The sight of it had made Aerys’ stomach lurch.

Even the memory of it now made him feel like he was going to spill what little food sat in his stomach. Aegon appeared almost dead, his body lying so still in that awful wooden box that looked like a casket. Aerys shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the memory. He had to believe Aegon would be alright. Otherwise, Aerys did not know how he would be able to carry on.

“Lord Reyne, please wait!” One of the maesters cried out, grasping onto his uninjured arm.

Though Aerys quickly slipped away before he could get a firm grip on him. He hurried around the corner, eager to reach Aegon. The doors of Aegon's room were wide open. His kingsguard stood post by the door. They turned their heads, watching him as he approached. Aerys did not give them enough time to shuffle out of the way, pushing his way through them.

The first thing his eyes fell upon was the two silent sisters who lurked in the corner of the room. His breath quickened, and his body broke out into a cold sweat. Why were they here? Aerys wanted to scream at them- order them to leave. Aegon would not die. Their presence was not needed or wanted.

Aemond stood at the foot of the bed. Aerys rushed to his side, pushing the man out of the way. This was all his fault, Aerys thought. He acted hastily, and now Aegon was paying the price for it.

A much larger team of maesters crowded around Aegon's body, making it difficult to get a clear view of him. Then, one of them moved to retrieve something. Aerys let out a short gasp as his eyes observed the severity of Aegon’s injuries. They had stripped him of his armor, exposing his charred, mangled flesh.

Aerys’ heart raced painfully in his chest, and his throat tightened. Blood pounded in his ears, leaving him deaf to the world around him. Was Aegon going to die? The maesters skills could only go so far. Were his injuries too severe to be treated? And what of injuries within, injuries that could not be seen with the naked eye?

Aerys could feel the sweat rolling down his skin, making his hair stick to the back of his neck. His feet tingled, and his knees buckled slightly beneath his weight. His vision blurred, and it became almost impossible to focus on anything. Aerys wanted to flee. He couldn’t bear to look at Aegon like this. He couldn’t bear to watch him fade away from this world, away from him. But he could not leave him- he would not. Not this time.

Aerys feels someone grab onto his arm, though he cannot make out their face. He hears them speak, but he cannot make sense of their words. His breathing grew more ragged and heavy, making it almost impossible to catch a full breath.

Perhaps he was more to blame for this than Aemond was. Aerys was no warrior. He had rushed into battle without any clear plan or strategy. In the end, Aegon and Sunfyre had fallen from the sky, and Agana was permanently maimed.

Agana.

His beautiful dragon, whose silver scales glimmered like the moon. His silver maiden who has served him faithfully all these years, protecting him, giving him strength. Yet he could not do the same. He had failed her by sending her into a battle she was unprepared for. One that resulted in her losing an eye. Aerys thought back to how he had left her, broken and alone, as she cried out for him. He was not deserving of her. He believed that before, but he was more sure of it now.

“...Aerys,” a far-away voice calls to him.

Something- someone grabs onto his uninjured arm, trying to pull him away from the bed. But Aerys stands firm, refusing to move.

“Aerys,” the voice calls again, much louder this time.

His vision began to clear as the pain in his arm flared up again, this time worse than before. He bites his lip, trying to keep himself from crying out. Pathetic whimpers escaped his throat as he tried to breathe through his nose. Fingers grasped his chin, turning his head to the side. Aerys looked down, finding the queen dowager staring at him.

“You must let the maesters treat your wounds,” The Queen dowager urged as she tried to pull him away from the bed.

“No,” Aerys gritted his teeth, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain in his shoulder. “I will not leave him.”

“Your wounds will fester. You must be treated,” she insisted.

Aerys ignored her, turning his head back to Aegon. She calls out to him again, but he shakes his head. He would not leave Aegon. No matter how painful it was to see him in this state, Aerys would remain by his side.

“Will he live?” Aerys murmurs.

“The maesters are doing all they can,” the dowager queen replied mournfully.

Her words do little to quell his worries.

“The maesters will treat your wounds here, but you must sit.”

Aerys turns to her, prepared to refuse her aid, but stops when she looks sternly at him. He relents, allowing her to guide him towards the cushioned benches near the window. As soon as she stepped aside, the maesters descended upon him.

One hands him a small cup filled with a white liquid- milk of the poppy.

“No,” Aerys groaned, pushing the cup away.

“It will help with the pain, Lord Reyne.” The maester explained.

“I said no.” Aerys asserted.

Aerys let out a pained hiss as the maester peeled the bandages from his skin.

“Just a sip, my lord, to dull your senses,” the maester reasoned. “The process will be rather painful.”

Aerys groaned, his body jerked to the side as one of the master's hands grazed his wounds. He finally accepted the cup, albeit begrudgingly. The white liquid trickled down his throat. Aerys quickly swallowed, not wishing to have the taste of it stuck in his mouth. When he was through, he shoved the cup back into the maesters hand.

Aerys closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as one of the maesters opened the blisters that had formed and cut away the damaged flesh. The maesters whispered their apologies but continued their work. Aerys ignored them, trying his best to stay quiet. Thankfully, the milk of the poppy seemed to work quickly. His mind was becoming hazy, and his body grew heavy. Even the simple act of clenching his fist seemed almost impossible.

Aerys tried to fight the fatigue threatening to overtake him. But it was a hopeless battle. His eyelids were so heavy he couldn’t lift them even a little. Perhaps some rest wouldn’t hurt.

When Aerys shut his eyes, he dreamed of crows.

There seemed to be hundreds- maybe even thousands of them. His eyes searched the outer yard of the red keep. All around, there were heads mounted on spikes. The smell of blood and rotting flesh overwhelmed the air. Crows sat on the heads, pecking away at the faces of the dead.

It was a grim sight, but to Aerys' surprise, he felt nothing. Neither happiness nor fear. He made his way through the throng of crows. Yet they paid him no mind.

A thousand deafening caws sounded in the air, making Aerys press his hands to his ears to try and drown out the noise. The man raised his head to find hundreds of crows circling above him in the sky. But there was something odd. The sky was not its common shades of blue or gray, but red—like a giant never-ending lake of blood.

“Aerys,” a honeyed voice calls out to him.

Aerys lowers his gaze to find a woman- no, Helaena staring at him. She stands just a few feet away amidst the bloodied spikes.

“What’s happening?” He asks.

“It is time for you to wake now,” she says.

Without another word, she turns around and walks away from him. Aerys calls out to her, but she’s too far away. He tried to run to her, but he found himself unable to move. Aerys looked down to find himself standing in a large pool of blood. It was rising to his knees, or rather, he was sinking into it. He tried to call for help. He tried to twist, turn, and fight his way out, but the faster he moved, the quicker he sank.

Yet if he stayed still, he sunk all the same. The blood sat right under his chin. He lifts his head, gasping for air, preparing himself to be swallowed whole. His body sinks lower. The taste of iron coats his lips. Aerys tried to kick his legs as the red liquid reached his nose.

It was too late. His eyes stung as the blood submerged him completely. His vision clouded with a red mist. The world around him faded. His lungs burned from being deprived of air. It was like someone had stabbed him in the chest. His ears throbbed, and he could only hear his pounding heartbeat. This was it. This was the end.

Aerys awoke with a start. His heart was hammering away in his chest as he sat up. His eyes searched around, meeting the familiar sight of Aegon’s bedchamber. Aerys was unsure of how long he had been asleep. It was still daylight outside. Was it the same day, or was it the next? He looked at his arm, which was wrapped in fresh bandages. Aerys found himself still resting on the cushioned benches near the window.

“Are you feeling alright, Lord Reyne?”

Aerys looked up, finding Maester Orwyle staring at him.

“I’m fine,” he nodded. “How is he?”

The maester looked nervous as he clasped his hands in front of his stomach. “I’m afraid it is too early to tell. We’ve done all we can. His fate rests with the gods now.”

Aerys wanted to laugh—the gods , of course.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Maester Orwyle asked.

“Yes, I just had a ... strange dream, that’s all.” Aerys brushed off the man’s concern.

“Ahh, yes,” the maester hummed. “Poppy dreams, they call them. It happens. I would not pay too much attention to it.”

Aerys nods his head. He had heard of the poppy dreams before. His father had been quite prone to them, or so he heard. They say these dreams caused his father to become oversuspicious of their liege lords, the Lannisters. The man was convinced that they were out to get him and intent on destroying his house.

“The small council is having a meeting,” the maester said. “The queen dowager insisted you be present.”

Aerys sighed and nodded his head. “As she wishes.”

Maester Orwyle helped Aerys get dressed in fresh clothes, before the two of them walked to the small council chamber. The rest of the council members were already present and seated. An extra chair was placed beside Ser Jasper Wylde for Aerys, now that Ser Criston had returned. Aerys quickly took his seat, trying his best not to react when his arm brushed against the chair as he sat down.

“Shall we begin?” Ser Criston announced.

Maester Orwyle was the first to speak. Giving the council a detailed account of the king’s injuries.

“Has he woken?” The Queen dowager asked.

Aerys wondered how she was handling all of this. Aegon was her son, her first son. He couldn’t imagine it was easy on her to see him return in such a state.

“No.” The maester answered solemnly. “I must admit, I’m not sure he will ever wake.”

Aerys let out a quiet scoff, dropping his gaze to the table. He refused to listen to the man. Aegon will live, I know he will. He’s stronger than they think he is, Aerys thought to himself. A thick tension grew in the air, as the maester finished saying his piece. They all believed Aegon would die. Doubters, he called them in his mind.

The Queen dowager is the first to act. She stands to her feet, resting her hands against the wooden table.

“A king cannot rule in his sleep,” she says. “The realm will have noticed his absence. Let them hear of his great deeds at Rook’s Rest.”

Aerys turns his head, looking towards the end of the table where that one-eyed coward sat. Though the man kept his single eye lowered to the table. Aerys glared at him. This is all his fault, he thought again.

“But now we must name a regent to take his place. Until he recovers ... or does not.”

Aerys turned his head towards the king's seat- Aegon’s seat. He didn’t want to be here. He should have remained by Aegon’s side.

“A wise strategy, your grace.” Lord Strong replied. “A regency will assure the people of the stability of the crown.”

“Did you have a candidate in mind, your grace?” Lord Tyland asked.

Aerys wanted to laugh. The answer was obvious. These lords were simply letting her down easy, like a mother does her child when they want something they cannot have.

“I myself served in this role for my husband. I am well-prepared to do it again,” she asserted.

Her eyes glanced at all the men around the table. It reminded him of when Aegon had done the same at the last council meeting when they had shut down his ideas in favor of Aemond, just as they were about to do to her now.

“You played your part admirably in a time of peace, your grace. But circumstances have changed.” Lord Jasper spoke up.

“And here I had forgotten,” she quipped.

Lord Jasper ignored her, continuing on. “The king does not lack for heirs. The obvious choice is his immediate successor, Prince Aemond.”

“Agreed,” Lord Tyland affirmed.

“Aemond is young,” she argued. “And his lack of restraint has already cost us dearly.”

She looks around the table again, looking for support. Aerys decides to answer her call.

“The queen dowager is right,” he says. “Aemond’s skill is best employed on the battlefield. The person best suited for the task is someone who already has experience ruling the realm. Don’t you think?”

“It is experience that offers the surest path to security,” Maester Orwyle chimes in. “Queen Alicent ably shouldered the duties of the realm when her husband’s health failed him.”

“Experience is valuable, yes, but the dowager queen is a woman.”

Aerys snickered at the master of laws statement. “I assure you, Ironrod, not all women are as faint-hearted as one so simple-minded might think.”

Aerys looks to the master of laws, who is glaring daggers at him. A smirk crosses his lips as he watches the mad turn red with anger and embarrassment.

“I am no stranger to rule or to sitting at this council. Aemond is a fearsome dragon rider; as Lord Reyne said, his skill is best employed in the field, but my experience is needed here, at this table.”

“No offense was meant, your grace, but at a time where we must show strength-”

The woman did not wait for Ser Tyland to finish speaking before calling out to Lord Larys Strong. Though the man proved to be of little help to her.

“I agree, your grace. It must be Prince Aemond. What would it say if, in response to Rhaenyra’s crowning, we raised up a woman of our own?”

“Then it should be Lord Reyne!” She countered.

Aerys snapped his head towards her, his eyes widened, “What?”

“Your grace,” Lord Tyland sighed.

“It is inconceivable,” Lord Jasper interjected. “The man doesn’t even have a proper seat on this council. Are we so willing to put the stability of the crown in the hands of a man who has spent years by the princesses’ side?”

“What are you implying, Lord Jasper?” Aerys snarled.

Before Lord Jasper could answer, the queen dowager called out to Aerys. He turned his head towards her, catching a glimpse of the stern look on her face. Aerys huffed and sat back in his chair. He looked to the master of laws, glaring at him one last time. His eyes flickered over to Aemond. The prince had his gaze fixated on him. Aerys shot him a glare before turning his eyes back toward the table in front of him. The queen dowager continued, arguing on his behalf.

“Aerys has proved himself to be a loyal member of our cause. He fought against Princess Rhaenys in defense of our king and was wounded in the process. The king trusts him. If he were here, I'm sure he would vote in favor of Lord Reyne himself.”

“Lord Reyne is too far down the line in terms of succession, your grace. Prince Aemond is the king’s heir.” Lord Strong replied. “But umm, the hand speaks with the king’s voice Ser Criston, what say you?”

All eyes turned towards the king’s hand. Ser Criston had been unusually silent since they had started the meeting. The man kept his head low but glanced his eyes up for a second before quickly dropping them back to his hands, which were clasped together tightly on the table.

“Aemond is the next in line. It must be him.”

The woman’s eyes were full of betrayal. Ser Criston had been her sworn protector and a dear friend for years. His words must have stung.

“It’s agreed then,” Aemond speaks for the first time since they had entered the room.

Aerys leans back, dropping his gaze to the ground. He stared at the dirt and grime that stuck to his boots as Aemond walked around the table. He refuses to look at the man as he sits in the king’s chair- Aegon’s chair .

“What is our standing in the riverlands?” Aemond asks.

Aerys chews on his lip, trying desperately to remain calm. He stays silent as Lord Tyland drones on about the Riverlands, as maester Orwyle talks about the smallfolk's unease, and as Aemond starts barking orders. He remains seated when all the others stand.

“We shall meet again at first light,” Aemond declared. “Oh, and someone cut down the fucking ratcatchers.”

Aerys finally stood, prepared to return to Aegon, when Aemond called for him to stay. The dowager queen tried to stay behind, but Aemond quickly dismissed her. Aerys sat back in his seat, fixating his eyes on the table. Aemond waits until everyone is out of the room, and the door slams shut before he speaks.

“I understand my brother ordered you to attend these meetings. I am now relieving you of your obligation.”

Aerys gave no reply, instead choosing to continue staring at the table. This did not seem to sit well with Aemond, who continued speaking at him. Though Aerys paid no mind to what he was saying. His words became muffled in his ears.

“Were you trying to kill him?” Aerys asked, interrupting the prince’s spiel.

He can see Aemond stiffen from the corner of his eye. Aerys turns his head, finally looking at the newly instated prince regent. The fury behind Aemond’s eye was palpable; a vein pulsed through the skin of his forehead.

“I’d choose my words more carefully if I were you, nephew ,” his words are laced with venom.

“Or what?” Aerys challenged.

Aerys was unsure where this newfound confidence had come from. He had never been very contentious, but something about Aemond drew it out of him. Aemond’s jaw clenched as he stared at Aerys, trying to intimidate him.

“I was there, Aemond. You burned him.”

“Aegon wasn’t supposed to be there. It was he who put himself in harm's way,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.

“Only because you did not let him in on your ploy,” Aerys argued.

“Am I supposed to hold his hand and explain everything to him like a child?”

“No, but as his brother, you should stand by his side. Instead, you’ve done everything you can to undermine him. And now this?!”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” Aemond hissed. “Do not act like you are completely blameless in this.”

Aerys looked at him confused, “What are you-”

“I was there, Aerys,” Aemond snickered, mocking him. “Agana could have killed Rhaenys, but you turned her away. Perhaps if you had let her do it, I would not have had to act.”

“Well, I apologize, but not all of us are so keen on becoming kinslayers,” Aerys retorted, furious that Aemond would try to pin this on him.

Aemond growled and lunged forward. For a moment, Aerys believed he would strike him. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the blow, but it never came. He opened his eyes, watching as Aemond pulled back, lowering his arm back to his side. The man’s breath is ragged, his single eye blazing with rage. Aerys can see how hard he is trying to restrain himself.

“It seems the milk of the poppy has left you delirious, nephew ,” Aemond jibed, his tone filled with malice. “Perhaps some more rest is needed.”

“I don’t need-”

Before Aerys could refute the man’s assertion, Aemond called out to the guards outside the room. Immediately, two members of the Kingsguard entered the room.

“Yes, your grace?”

“Lord Reyne is tired, see him to his chambers.”

“I am not tired,” Aerys rebuffed. “I must return to the king’s side.”

“Have the maesters prepare some essence of nightshade to help him sleep,” Aemond continued as if Aerys wasn’t even present.

“Yes, your grace.” The guards nodded, moving to Aerys’ side.

The man sent Aemond one last vitriolic glare before begrudgingly standing on his feet. The one-eyed man stared back at him with a vexing smirk upon his face. With his fists clenched and arms pinned to his sides, Aerys stormed out of the room. The guard’s armor rattled as they trailed closely behind him.

Aemond was demonstrating his authority, reminding Aerys that he had no allies here now that Aegon was abed.

Tags: @saicherry, @sadpuffpuff, @willow-red, @teamavatar13

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sena-seastar · 9 months ago

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Let The Light In

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: You try to help Aemond relax when the world outside your shared bedroom becomes too much for him to handle.

Warnings: slight angst & fluff

A/N: This fic is incredibly self-indulgent, as I am deeply infatuated with Aemond's hair. No beta, so I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes!

The soothing, gentle sound of crackling wood from the fireplace echoed in the air. The shadows of the flames danced along the walls of your and Aemond’s shared bedchamber. Lately, though, it seems like it’s just yours. Your husband had decided to sleep in his own private quarters for the past week. Something that perturbed you deeply.

This week has been filled with the most restless nights you've had in years, leaving you thoroughly exhausted. You had grown quite accustomed to sleeping in Aemond’s strong arms. The two of you had never spent a night apart since your wedding night two years ago. The marriage had been arranged, of course, but the two of you had quickly become besotted with each other.

Has your spark faded so soon?

You took a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. Surely, you were just overthinking things. Aemond had his hands full with the threat of war looming on the horizon. It made sense that he would have little time for you. That was just something you would have to learn to accept.

You let your eyelids fall closed as you continue to run the brush through your hair. The day had quickly come and gone. The hour of ghosts was quickly approaching. You prayed that sleep would come easier tonight. Your poor mind and body craved a peaceful night's rest.

You jump on the small cushion bench you have been sitting on as your bedroom door slams open and closed—Aemond storms into the room. You watch quietly as he paces the room, mumbling angrily in high valyrian. You try to gauge what he is saying, but he is talking too quietly and far too quickly for you to understand. Even with the lessons Aemond and Maester Orwyle have given you over the past year and a half, it was nearly impossible to comprehend Aemond when he spoke so quickly.

You call him, but he ignores you. So you try again, this time much louder. His back is turned to you. You watch as he slowly turns, his eye wandering about the room as if it were some foreign place. You squirm in your seat when his gaze finally falls upon you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I thought I had gone to my room.”

Your heart sinks at the thought that he no longer considers this his room.

“It is yours, just as much as it is mine,” you shrug.

“Of course,” he mutters sheepishly, shuffling his weight back and forth on his feet.

“Has something happened?” You ask, hoping to draw him into a conversation before he tries to flee.

With an exasperated sigh, Aemond moved to the bed, sitting at the edge. He clenched the blanket tightly in his hands. The two of you sit in silence. You have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from badgering him with questions. He’ll never talk if you do that. The minutes feel like hours, but soon, he speaks.

“My mother is angry with me,” he says quietly.

I should have known, you thought. You were well aware of the strain growing between your husband and good-mother since he had returned from Storm’s End. Since the murd- the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Your heart aches for your husband. You know how close Aemond was to his mother and how much she meant to him. No doubt, the distance between them was significantly affecting him.

“She blames me for starting this war. As if she and my father's council have not been plotting to usurp the throne for years,” he scoffed.

His voice was laced with anger and frustration. You want nothing more than to go to him. To reach out and soothe him, but you're afraid he will leave. This was the most time he had spent with you in a week. You were desperate for his attention.

“The realm is preparing for a war the likes of which Westeros has never seen. She is afraid.”

“Aren’t we all?” He snickered.

The two of you sat in silence. Aemond rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. He seemed so small, almost like a child. Your heart grew heavy, weighed down by your worry and concern for your sweet husband. You wanted to help him, but you did not know how—or if he would even let you.

Your fingers twitch, curling around the brown wooden brush handle in your hand. You look down at it. A smile spreads across your lips as an idea finally comes to mind. You turn around, placing the brush down on the table before turning back towards him.

“Come here,” your soft voice cuts through the silence. You beckon Aemond closer with your hand.

Aemond lifts his head. The man looks at you apprehensively, his eye flickering towards the door. For a moment, you fear he will run, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gives you a slight nod and pushes himself up from the bed. You stand just as he’s about to reach you and quickly step aside. You gesture towards the cushioned bench, instructing him to sit. He hesitates but follows your instructions.

Aemond sits up tall on the bench, his body tense and rigid. His violet eye watches you in the mirror as you step behind him.

“May I?” You ask, gesturing to his eyepatch.

His face goes pale, and for a moment, you regret asking. Perhaps you were overstepping. Though before you can apologize, he nods his head. Your heart skips a beat, overjoyed that he still trusted you enough to see him like this. You have to stop yourself from smiling like a fool.

You try to steady your trembling fingers as you loosen the eyepatch strap. Your eyes flicker towards the mirror. He isn’t looking at you anymore. Instead, his violet eye is closed. He flinched, and his brows knit together as you pulled the eyepatch off his head. You freeze, unsure if you hurt him or he is just uncomfortable. It had been years since he had lost his eye, but it still caused him some discomfort.

“Are you alright?” You asked.

He blinks, eye flickering towards you. He watches you, no doubt waiting for some sign of disgust or repulsion. But you give him none; you never have. In your eyes, he was perfection. You do your best to look at him with all of the genuine concern and admiration that you can muster.

“I-,” his voice cracked. He blushed and quickly cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.” He answered, more assuredly this time.

You nod, leaning over his shoulder to carefully place the eyepatch on the table. Your finger moved back to his hair, gently tugging on the tie that held his hair away from his face. Thankfully, it slips off with ease. His hair falls forward, curtaining around his face.

You gather the hair off his neck, drawing it onto his back. A soft sigh escapes him as your fingers graze against the sensitive skin of his neck.

You reach over his shoulder again, picking up the brush you had been using moments ago. His single eye falls closed as the brush touches his head. You go slowly, trying to be careful of any knots and tangles, though there are none. The brush skims through his silver tresses with ease. You find yourself growing envious, thinking of all the times you and your handmaids have had to wrestle with your hair.

His hair shines like beaten silver under the candlelight. The sight is almost hypnotic. You continue with your work, letting the brush run through his silver strands again and again. Little by little, his facade crumbles, and his body relaxes under your touch. After a while, you put the brush back on the table.

You massage his scalp with your fingertips. Aemond’s head is tilted back just a bit, and a soft hum echoes from his throat. The sound reminds you of a cat purring. You smile, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Carefully, you remove your fingers from his hair before brushing through it one more time.

“Would you like me to braid it?” You ask.

“Yes, please,” he answers.

You nod and get to work. You don’t do anything too extravagant, just a simple three-strand braid. Once you are finished, you lean down and press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“All done,” you smile.

“Thank you,” he replies, sleepily.

You expect him to get you and leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he spins around on the bench. His large hands gently take hold of your hips, pulling you a bit closer.

“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that you almost missed it.

“For what, my love?” You ask, gently caressing the side of his face with your fingertips.

“For this ... distance between us.”

“Oh,” you hum. “It’s fine. I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“That’s not an excuse,” he mumbles. “I have been-”

You shush him and place a gentle kiss on his scarred brow. “All is forgiven.”

His lips part as he prepares to argue, but he doesn’t. He closed them and nodded, silently thanking you for your forgiveness. Silence takes over the room again, but it’s more comfortable this time. Aemond rubs circles on your hips, through your thin nightdress, with his thumbs.

“Perhaps I shall rest here tonight?” He suggests, avoiding your gaze.

“I would like that,” you smile.

Aemond stands, and you help him undress before the two of you make your way back to your shared bed. Your husband climbs into the bed after you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your back is pressed against his bare chest, and almost immediately, you can feel your mind at ease.

“I love you,” he whispers against your hair.

You try to say it back but cannot, as sleep pulls you away from the waking world. You squeeze his hand in yours and hope he understands.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #x reader #x fem!reader #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #house targaryen #fire and blood #fluff #slight angst #aemond needs a hug

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sena-seastar · 9 months ago

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His Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aegon are trapped in an arranged marriage, but you've both done your best to deal with it. Aegon admits to you that he has his doubts about being king. You do your best to offer him comfort despite having your reservations.

Warnings: Smut, Oral (fem receiving), Slight angst, mentions of arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity

A/n: No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

You groan, fluffing your pillow as you turn onto your side. Your eyes beg you to go back to sleep, but your mind seems intent on keeping you awake. You slide a hand over to the left side of the bed. The sheets where Aegon rested had grown cold. You frowned, longing for his warmth. He had been here when you went to sleep, just as he has been every night for the past week.

Since becoming king, Aegon has been different. He is taking a more active and involved role, not just as king but also as a husband and father.

A great wave of weariness washes over you, taking your energy along with it. It leaves nothing but a sting of melancholy and humiliation in its wake. Perhaps you were a fool to think Aegon had changed. Had he slipped back into his old ways so soon? Where was he now, you wondered. In some brothel on the street of silk or in some filthy flea-bottom rat pit? You shake your head, trying to stop being so pessimistic.

Slowly, you got out of bed and pulled your robe over your nightgown. You pull your hair to the side as you slide on a pair of slippers. The castle was quiet and dark, though that was no surprise considering how late it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight off the chill in the air. Maester Orwyle believed the summer was finally coming to an end.

Your eyes wander around, lazily observing the same walls you have seen a thousand times before. Your mind turns back to your husband. The marriage had been arranged by your father and the late King Viserys. Your mother had wished you to marry the Lord of Seagard, Lord Jorah Mallister, but your father refused. What is a lord compared to a prince, he said.

Neither you nor Aegon had been happy about it. But somehow, you managed to coexist; you had little choice otherwise. Over the years, you had found yourself growing quite fond of him. He was charismatic and very easy on the eyes without even trying. Though you were unsure if he shared your feelings, it was so hard to tell. He was always off doing whatever he did with his spare time.

The sound of clinking metal echoed in the air. Your eyes land upon an alert Ser Arryk. Though the tense knight relaxed when he realized it was you. He removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and bowed his head.

“Your grace.”

“Ser Arryk,” you greet him courteously.

“Is he alone?” You asked, gesturing towards the giant closed doors that concealed the throne room.

You could see how the king guard tensed up again; a look of pity flickered in his eyes. It was a look you had grown accustomed to over the years. Your husband's indiscretions were well known throughout the city.

Ser Arryk nodded, “Yes, your grace.”

You take a step forward, and the knight quickly takes the hint. He pushed open one of the doors just enough for you to slip past it before pulling it closed again. The room was so quiet. Even the soft thuds your feet made against the stone floor echoed. The walk to the throne felt like it stretched on for hours.

You could see Aegon in the distance. His silver-gold hair contrasted beautifully against the grim, gray walls of the throne room. The man stands at the foot of the steps, dressed down in his nightwear.

The iron throne was said to be made of the thousand swords of the conqueror’s enemies. Regardless of whether that was true, the throne was certainly a ghastly thing to look at.

The iron throne casts a large shadow that stops at the bottom of the steps, right at Aegon’s feet, threatening to engulf him.

“You disappeared. I was worried something had happened,” you said, breaking the silence in the room.

Aegon turned his head to look at you. He had a startled look on his face. Had he not heard you coming?

”I apologize, my queen. I did not wish to disturb you with my restlessness.”

You fiddle with the sleeves of your robe. The title of queen was something you hadn’t entirely warmed up to yet. In truth, you weren’t sure what you thought of all of this.

“I wouldn’t have minded. It’s better than waking up alone.”

A look of hurt and guilt washed over his face. You quickly came to regret your words.

“I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything,” you added nervously. “I shall leave you be.”

You quickly turn to leave, but before you can take a step, a voice calls out, “Don’t go!”

The urgency and desperation in his tone make you freeze. You crane your neck to look back at him. His dark eyes are wide and glossy.

“I mean,” he cleared his throat. “I would enjoy your company.”

You remain frozen, at a loss for words. He had never actively sought your company before. Aegon’s cheeks grow red, and he quickly adds, “Though you’re free to go if you wish.”

He quickly turns back around, facing the throne. You stare at the back of his head, your eyes following the waves of his hair. It had grown out quite a bit. That was also something you were not used to. He usually preferred to keep it short.

The soft thuds of your slippers hitting the ground echo in the air once more. You slowly move to stand by his side.

“Do you think I can do it?” He asked suddenly.

Aegon’s voice wavers as the question leaves his lips. You turn your head to look at him. His body is tense, and he keeps his eyes forward, not looking at you.

In a way, he reminds you of a child, your child, your sweet little Jaehaerys. He is your husband's heir now. One day, he will stand in this very spot. You wonder if he will have the same doubts.

Your eyes follow his gaze to the throne. You had wondered the same thing many times before. A deep, weary sigh escaped from your lips.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

From the corner of your eyes, you can see him wince at your words.

“I do not wish to lie to you, husband. I cannot say for certain if you will be a good king. But I do believe,” you take his hand into yours. “that you have a kind heart. And if you try, really try , you may surprise us all.”

He offers your hand a little squeeze. “I want to try. I just- I don’t know how. My father never prepared me for this.”

“No one prepared him either, yet he found his path. In time, you will too.”

An uneasy smile stretched across his lips. He shook his head slightly before lowering it. His eyes trained on the ground. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Hey,” you coax as you move to stand before him.

Your free hand gently cups his face, urging him to look up at you. His eyes are vast and glossier than you’ve ever seen them. You can see the slight tremble in his bottom lip. He leans into the warmth of your palm. You run your thumb up and down his cheekbone.

“You are not alone in this, Aegon. You have your small council and your grandfather, who has advised two kings bef-”

“And you?” He queried.

Aegon’s violet eyes shift back and forth between your eyes as if he were searching for something.

“Yes,” you nodded. “You have me.”

His hands rest on your hips, pulling you closer. Soon, your chest is pressed against his. You can feel his warm breath on your face. You catch a whiff of the sweet arbor red that lingers on his tongue. Aegon lowers his head, nudging his nose against yours. Your lips just barely graze each other.

A heat climbed up your face, making it feel like your skin was on fire. Unable to handle the growing need in your stomach, you lift yourself onto your toes, pressing your lips to his. Aegon responds immediately, moving his soft lips against yours.

This kiss was different. Different from the chaste kiss you shared on your wedding day or the sloppy drunk kisses you shared during the few times he joined you in your marital bed.

Aegon kissed you with a desperation and hunger that you had never experienced before. Your arms wound around his neck, needing him even closer to you if possible. You let him lead you through the kiss, primarily due to your lack of experience but also because you find yourself becoming lightheaded.

You feel dizzy like the world is spinning. You're running out of breath, lungs burning from the lack of air, but no part of you wants to stop this.

Aegon takes the initiative to pull away first. A pathetic whine passes through your lips. You lean forward, eager to feel his lips on yours again, but he doesn’t let you. He grabs your arms, pulling them away from his neck.

“Come with me,” he said, taking one of your hands into his.

You struggled to keep up with him as he pulled you behind him. Your feet sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the iron throne.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you reached the top.

“Take a seat,” he replied, not answering your question.

You eyed him suspiciously, unsure of what he was planning to do. Your eyes scanned the empty throne room, ensuring no one was watching you. A devilish smile rested on his lips as he gestured towards the throne. You hold onto his hand as you lower yourself onto the throne made of swords.

Your body is tense, and you struggle not to let the fear of being pricked overwhelm you.

“How does it feel?”

You struggle to come up with an answer. You were frightened, but you could not deny the sense of power and strength that filled your chest. Suddenly, you could understand why so many people lusted after the throne.

“It’s ... nice.”

Aegon lets out a hearty laugh, and you turn your head away, mortified.

“My sweet little wife,” he mused, leaning down to kiss your head.

You stay silent, reeling with embarrassment. You close your eyes, wishing this was all a dream and that you would soon be back in the comfort of your own bed.

Warm hands slipping under your nightgown make you gasp. Your head snaps forward to find your husband kneeling before you. Aegon’s warm hands rest on your calves. You squeeze your legs together as tightly as you can.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered harshly, taken aback by his audaciousness.

His eyes flickered up towards yours, staring at you. “I want to try something.”

The gleam in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

“What?” You asked, though you believe you have some understanding of what he means.

Some of the more... bolder ladies at court loved to gossip and share stories of their late-night trysts with their husbands and paramours. You have heard a few stories about men who enjoy... feasting on their lovers. It was something you had never heard of before, let alone experienced. A part of you wondered if it was even true.

You had thought of asking Aegon about it, as he was quite... familiar with the ways of lovemaking, but you could not bring yourself to repeat what you had heard.

“Trust me,” he said, a grin reaching his lips. “I believe you will enjoy it.”

You stare at him, taking a deep breath before nodding. His warm hands slid up high, caressing your knees as he pushed them apart. You gasped, knees immediately trying to clamp shut to preserve some of your dignity. But Aegon doesn’t let you.

He keeps a firm grip on your knees, keeping you spread open for him. Your nightgown is hitched up above your knees. The cold night air makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. The heat that was climbing up your face earlier spreads throughout your entire body. You want to close your eyes and turn away, but you cannot bring yourself to look away from him.

His eyes no longer stare into yours. Instead, his violet eyes remained focused between your legs. He glides his hands up your thighs, inching your dress higher until, finally, your cunt is exposed. But he doesn’t touch it. Instead, he moves his palms down, rubbing circles on your outer thighs.

The way Aegon touches you now differs from his usual impatient and rough approach. His hands seem almost reverent as they fondle your soft, plush thighs.

“Aegon,” you gasped as he lowered his head, pressing his lips to your right inner thigh.

His hair fell forward, covering his face, but you believed you could feel him smirking against your skin. Suddenly, you felt him nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh. A sharp cry leaves your lips.

“‘m sorry,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed the bite.

His lips move up higher to the crook of your thigh. Your mouth hung slightly open, and a shaky breath passed through your lips. Being naked and exposed to him was nothing new, but having him so close like this was. Having his eyes and lips so close to your most intimate area was very new.

“Can you open them a bit more?” He asked, looking up at you.

You swiped your tongue across your lips before nodding. You were finally able to shut your eyes as you spread your legs wider, hoping it was enough.

“You’re perfect,” he said in awe.

A hot wetness glides over your aching cunt, making your entire body jolt. You let out a noise that is somewhere between a gasp and a cry as you try to draw your legs closed, but you're unable to, not with Aegon nestled between your thighs. His shoulders keep you spread open for his view and pleasure.

Aegon’s tongue was delivering the most exquisite pleasure you had ever experienced. He lapped up and down your folds, savoring your taste, before caressing your clit, alternating movements from up and down and side to side.

You look down, finding him peering up at you. His violet eyes locked onto you, watching your every expression, listening to every sound as he unraveled you beneath him. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. All the air that fills your lungs is gone in an instant.

“Aegon- mmm,” his name leaves you like a meager whine.

His tongue works ardently between your splayed thighs, feasting upon you like a man starved. You find yourself enamored by the soft, tantalizing, wet sound his mouth is producing. One of your hands reached down, entangling itself in his messy silver waves. He moans against you, and the feeling has you arching your back.

Your eyes rolled back as the pleasure quickly began to overwhelm you. Your chest rose and fell repeatedly, your hard nipples rubbing against the fabric of your nightgown. You did not know how much more you would be able to take.

Sinful cries and whimpers echoed throughout the throne room, but you could not bring yourself to care. How could you possibly think of anything else when your husband was sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body?

Then, he slips a finger inside of you.

“Aegon!” You cried out, so close to reaching your peak, yet not wanting this to end.

He easily adds another. His fingers move at a torturous, methodical pace. The pads of his fingers rub against your spongy walls, favoring that spot that makes you gasp and squeal. He catches your clit between his lips, suckling on it as if it were a treat. You gripped his head, rocking into his mouth.

You could feel a familiar heat building up in your lower stomach. The tension was almost unbearable. The world around you seemed to blur; all your senses honed in on Aegon and the pleasure only he could give you.

You panted out curses and his name, shuddering at the warm pleasure that filled your entire body.

A groan erupts from the back of his throat, so guttural, it makes you weak. You glanced down and found him still watching you. His dark eyes entranced you, not allowing you to look away.

Your legs and back stiffened, your stomach tightened, and your breath halted. You clamped your eyes shut and moaned out his name as you finally reached your peak.

You remove your hand from his hair and tap his shoulder. Thankfully he pulled away with little protest, allowing your senses to calm down as your peak reached its end. Your back is aching from sitting upright for so long. You lean back a little, hoping to find relief, but the iron throne offers none.

You're unsure how much time passes before you can properly catch your breath again. Soft fingers interlace with yours, bringing you back to the present. You blink, trying to fight off the drowsiness that is steadily creeping up on you. Aegon is still kneeling before you, with a self-satisfying look on his face.

“I told you you’d like it.”

You let out a breathy laugh and tried to push him away. However, you lacked the strength to do so.

“Just... give me a moment. Then I shall help you.”

“Mmh,” he hummed. “That won’t be necessary, my queen.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

He smirked and glanced down at his lap before looking back at you. You sat up and looked down to find a dark wet spot that covered the front of his trousers. Your face heated up again, and a coy smile made its way onto your lips.

“That’s too bad,” you sigh. “I was hoping we could play some more.”

Aegon’s smirk is gone, replaced with a more serious look. “I just need a moment. Then I’ll take you right here.”

You laugh at his enthusiasm. “I’m more than willing to go again, but not here. I prefer the comfort of our bed.”

Aegon nods and quickly stands to his feet. He helps you stand and holds you close to his side as the two of you leave the throne room.

“Your grace,” Ser Arryk bows as the two of you make it out of the room.

You gulped, mortified, realizing what the poor white cloak had just endured.

“Ser Arryk,” Aegon smiled. “The Queen and I shall be returning to our bedchamber now.”

The knight’s eyes flickered toward you before quickly averting his gaze. It was not hard to tell that the man was flustered. You shot him an apologetic smile even though he would not look at you.

“Yes, your grace.” He replied, dutifully following behind the two of you as you returned to your bedchamber. You’ll have to convince Aegon to find some way to make it up to him.

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sena-seastar · 10 months ago

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Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist! All my writing is created with an adult audience in mind (18+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied, or posted on this platform or any others.

You can also find all my work on Ao3 @Sena_keres if you prefer to read there.

With that in mind, I hope you enjoy it! Any form of feedback is greatly appreciated!

Originally posted by straywords

Series

The Dragon's Gold (Aegon II Targaryen x Male!OC )

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

One Shots

Burning Desire (Aemond x Older!Sister Reader)

Heart to Heart (Aemond x Wife Reader)

His Queen (Aegon II x Fem!Reader)

Let The Light In (Aemond x Fem!Reader)

Blurbs

Mine all mine (Aemond x Wife Reader)

#masterlist #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x oc #fire and blood #hotd aegon #targcest #house targaryen

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sena-seastar · 10 months ago

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Heart to Heart

Aemond x Wife Reader

Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.

A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.

Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with.

The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.

Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”

Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation.

“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”

You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.

“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest.

“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”

You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.

Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.

The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious.

A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.

The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.

Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.

“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”

Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”

“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”

She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.

“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”

Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.

“What is it? Do you want down?”

Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.

Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”

His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.

His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.

Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.

Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.

Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout.

“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper.

The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince.

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”

Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.

Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.

“Vava, pay?”

Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.

Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.

“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”

Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion.

Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.

“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.

Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.

The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.

“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.

She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything.

But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.

Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.

“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”

Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head.

Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #x reader #x fem!reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fire and blood #hotd #girldad!aemond #dad!aemond #fluff #soft!aemond

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sena-seastar · 11 months ago

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Mine all mine

Aemond x Wife reader

Summary: Yours and Aemond's child refuses to let you sleep.

A/N: This is a short fluff piece I wrote two years ago after season one ended. I just thought I would post it now.

“Hush now, little one, I’ve-” you yawn, trying to blink the sleep away from your eyes. “I’ve got you.” You tiredly cooed as you picked up the writhing baby from her cradle for the fourth time.

“She’s quite restless tonight,” your husband groaned from your shared bed.

You patted the baby on the back to soothe the sniffling girl, humming in agreement. Then, you placed the back of your hand against her clammy forehead.

“She’s quite warm; perhaps we should send for a maester?”

You watched as Aemond sat up. He instinctively reached for the black leather eyepatch to conceal his sapphire eye before stopping himself. It had taken him almost a year after the two of you wed before he felt comfortable enough to let you see him without it. But even now, a couple of years later, insecurity still managed to worm its way under his skin.

His long hair started falling out of the simple braid you had put it in before bed. The child gurgled and squirmed with excitement when he walked to your side.

A wide grin stretched across his face as your daughter squealed with delight as he took her into his arms.

“How is my little one feeling? Mother thinks you're unwell,” he scrunched his face, making the baby giggle.

“I’m serious, Aemond. You know what the maester said. If she gets another fever, we should take her to him.”

“She’s a little warm, my love. Most likely from that thick blanket, you insisted on wrapping her in.” He chided, lazily gesturing towards the cradle.

“She was cold,” you mumble, realizing that perhaps the man was right. Not that you were willing to admit that to him.

Your little family made your way back to the large bed in the middle of the room. The sky was beginning to lighten, though the sun had yet to appear. The loud chirping of birds could be heard, along with the servants who had awoken to start their daily duties before the nobles awoke. You climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over your body to fight off the morning chill. Aemond rested his back against the pillows, sitting your child on his lap.

You watched with a smile as Daenys toyed with her father’s fingers. She quickly lowered her face and bit down. The man pulled it back with an exaggerated hiss. The little girl froze, her eyes widened, and her mouth hung open in shock. However, her mood swiftly changed as she giggled at her father’s pained expression. She grinned widely, exposing the two front teeth that had recently sprouted from her gums.

“Carefully, husband, or you may lose a finger,” you tease.

The man shot you a playful glare before lecturing the child on biting. However, it only seemed to make the child giggle even more.

“Now, Daenys, what have we said about the biting? You do not bite kepa. Save that for your uncle.”

You rolled your eyes at his childishness.

“Do you want me to take her?” You asked. “There’s no use in both of us being exhausted.”

“No, you get some rest,” he replied absent-mindedly.

Aemond kept his gaze on your little girl. A giddy smile sat on his lips as Daenys crawled up his chest. He took hold of one of her chubby little hands, holding it to his mouth, pretending to eat it. She squealed, pulling it away before holding it out for him to take again.

You smiled and rested your head on the soft feather pillow beneath you, watching as the two people most dear to your heart played together. It was such a heartwarming sight. You fought to keep your eyes open, but sleep had won.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fire and blood #hotd #girldad!aemond #dad!aemond #blurb

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sena-seastar · 11 months ago

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Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now.

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side.

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat.

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears.

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go.

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw.

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still.

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes.

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,” he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out.

“Look at me.”

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t.

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?”

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face.

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms.

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips.

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to.

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak.

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long.

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs.

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter.

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you.

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down.

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

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sena-seastar · 11 months ago

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The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: Ableism, violence (dragon's fighting), descriptions of burns and other injuries

A/n: I don't have much experience writing fight scenes, so I hope I did well enough here. There may also be slight medical inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. As always, dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

“Fuck you. I told you we should’ve sent our dragons. And now look what’s happened.” Aegon rants, pointing his finger at the map.

Aerys shifts uncomfortably in his seat, or Ser Criston Cole's seat. Aegon had ordered him to sit in the hand’s chair during their meeting. Aerys could feel the eyes of Aegon’s council watching his every move. He did not like it. It made him feel like some sort of exotic animal on display. For them to point and gawk at.

“Daemon, of all people, has taken Harrenhal. I give you a job, and now you just sit there. It’s your fucking castle!” Aegon yelled, singling out the Lord of Harrenhal, Larys Strong.

Aerys threw the man a pitiful glance. It was not like the master of whisperers could do much. He was here in the capital, and Harrenhal is leagues away. The man was also a cripple. Men seldom follow those they believe to be weaker than themselves. And if Daemon was there, then so was Caraxes. Aerys could not necessarily fault the men of House Strong for bending the knee. Daemon was not known for his merciful nature.

The master of whisperers kept his head down, enduring Aegon’s wrath. He peeked his eyes up once Aegon finished.

“Well, that castle is more crippled than I am, your grace.” He replied meekly.

His jest did nothing to soothe Aegon’s anger. The man was growing restless. Being deprived of his revenge for Jaehaerys's murder only fueled the fire within him.

“It’s like to drive Daemon to madness as he attempts to make use of it. It is beyond his faculties. It is also penniless, as I happily control all of its gold.” Lord Larys added. “So, as Harrenhal saps Daemon’s resolve, the false queen remains trapped on her island, and Ser Criston continues felling castles in the Crownlands.”

The mention of Rhaenyra made Aerys shift uncomfortably in his seat. He dropped his head, fingers reaching for his ring, until he remembered he was no longer wearing it. A lump rose in his throat, and he felt nauseous. Perhaps it was the guilt of his betrayal slowly consuming him. Aegon turned around, returning to his seat at the end of the table. He rested his hands on the back of his chair.

“Wh–” Aegon stammered, his eyes looking around at the men of his council. “I need to be informed of these things if I am to make informed rulings. I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies.”

He turns his eyes to Aerys, looking for support. Aerys clears his throat, sitting upright.

“Regardless of who holds the coin, the king is right,” Aerys says. “Harrenhal and the Riverlands should be of the utmost concern. From what I understand, the blacks had not acted for nearly a fortnight after the death of Rhaenyra’s son. You should have used that time to seize Harrenhal for yourselves, but” Aerys sighed, exasperated. “I suppose there’s no point in mourning over a lost opportunity.”

“We have sent Ravens to Lord Tully, but he has yet to respond,” Maester Orwyle explains.

“And with Prince Daemon now occupying Harrenhal, there is not much we can do,” Lord Tyland added.

“We could force him out,” Aerys responds.

The table is filled with disbelieving scoffs and looks of confusion.

“And how do you suppose we do that, Lord Reyne?” Lord Jasper snickers.

“We send dragons,” Aerys answers.

“Prince Daemon has a dragon of his own-”

“He has one, Lord Tyland,” Aerys interrupted the master of coin.

The room goes quiet as they wait for Aerys to finish.

“Aemond and I will take our dragons and root him out.”

“You intend to challenge him? The blacks already outnumber us when it comes to dragons. If you or gods forbid Prince Aemond were to fall in battle, we may as well wave the white flag now.”

“Daemon will not fight us, Lord Jasper,” Aerys sighed. “If it were me or Aemond alone, he would certainly take up the challenge. But with the two of us together, he will flee. Daemon may be rash and impulsive, but he will not rush into a battle he does not think he could win.”

“And if you successfully chase him out, what will you do then?” Lord Jasper asked. “Ser Criston has already taken most of the fighting men here. Even if we take the castle, we do not have the men to hold it.”

“I will stay behind with Agana and treat with the rivermen myself,” Aerys explains. “Lord Tully has yet to declare for the blacks. Perhaps we could offer him something.”

“And what do you have in mind, Lord Reyne?” Lord Tyland asked. “As Maester Orwyle has already stated, the man refuses to respond.”

“A marriage pact.”

“He does have a daughter who has just come of martial age,” Maester Orwyle nods.

“And who do you suggest we betrothed the girl to, Lord Reyne? You?” Lord Jasper asked.

“No,” Aerys and Aegon say in unison.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Aerys cleared his throat.

“No, Lord Jasper. Not me.” Aerys shook his head. “The king has another brother in Oldtown. Daeron has just come of martial age as well. I propose we betroth them.”

“You think Lord Tully will marry his only daughter to a third son?”

“Third son or not, Daeron is a dragon rider. His children will be as well. Tell me, Lord Jasper, do you know many lords who would reject having a dragon on their side?”

Ironrod remains silent, lowering his head.

“Harrenhal must wait,” Aemond interjected.

Aerys closed his eyes, praying that the gods would smite the one-eyed coward where he sat.

“Ser Criston is marching on Rook’s Rest.”

Aerys let out a quiet sigh. Once again, his prayers went unanswered. He kept his eyes on the table, refusing to even look at the man. Aerys knew he would have to face the man, but he was not prepared to do it so soon.

“Rook’s Re- A pathetic prize. I gave no such command-”

“The castle is small,” Aemond interrupted once more.

He stood for his seat, marching over to the board.

“Weakly defended, and Lord Staunton sat on Rhaenyra’s council. After Cole smashes it, we’ll have Dragonstone effectively cut off by land. This war will not be won with dragons alone but with dragons flying behind armies of men.”

“No!” Aegon protested. “Have him turn about. I want Harrenhal back!”

Aegon marched to the board, his finger angrily tapping against Harrenhal on the map. Aemond ignored him, turning away.

“Cole is already preparing his attack,” he explained, returning to his seat.

Aegon turned his head to Aerys, and the two shared a look of confusion.

“Uh, how-how do you know of this?” Aegon stammered, furrowing his brows.

“He sent word to me,” Aemond answered as if it were obvious.

“To you? The two of you have been plotting... without my authority?” Aegon’s voice hardened.

Aemond sighed, “You had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as holding court, choosing your sobriquet, naming imbecilic lickspittles to our Kingsgaurd, and hosting private meetings with your... childhood companion.”

“Tread carefully,” Aerys warned with a scathing glower. “You may be his brother, but he is your king.”

Aerys balled his hands into tight fists. His nails dug painfully into his palms. He would not be surprised if they had pierced through his skin. Aemond stared at him. That vexing, never-fading smirk sat on his lips. But there was something in his gaze, something Aerys couldn’t quite place. Was it arrogance or shame? Aerys would spit on him if he could. He hoped the monster felt guilty. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay directly led to the murder of Jaehaerys. Aerys hoped that guilt would haunt him.

“Mm,” Aemond hummed, looking away.

Aerys continued to scowl at the man until he felt someone kick his foot. He turned his attention back to Aegon. The man shot him a warning look. Aerys gave him a slight nod, silently apologizing for his outburst.

“Do you have a wiser strategy, my king?” Aemond asked. “If so, you should voice it to your council. We all await your answer.”

There is a short pause as the council awaits the king's response. All eyes turn towards the monarch.

“I can have to...” Aegon's lip twitched as he gathered his thoughts. “War?”

He turned his head to Aerys, looking for validation. Aerys gave him a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to humiliate him further. An awkward tension enveloped the room.

“Harrenhal is a useful morass,” Aemond spoke to the council. “It will keep Daemon well-occupied while we strengthen our host and weaken Rhaenyra’s support on the mainland. We will deal with it in the Riverlands in time.”

Aegon sighed, sinking into his chair, defeated.

“But right now. Rook’s Rest is an easy target and a worthy effort. Don’t you agree, my king?”

Aegon said nothing. His eyes flickered at the men sitting at the table. It was clear that he felt cast aside. And in that, he was right. They had disregarded everything he had said in favor of Aemond and Ser Criston’s plot. Aegon gave a begrudging nod, agreeing with Aemond. Not that he had much choice.

Aerys looked at Aegon with concern, fighting the urge to reach out to him. Aegon gave him a slight nod before lowering his head. Aerys sighed, turning his head to stare at the wall behind Ser Jasper’s head, wishing for this meeting to be adjourned.

Aerys’ body was sore from sitting in the hand’s chair. The small council meeting had taken most of the day before Aegon abruptly left after declaring how bored he was. Aerys himself had left not long after. Ser Thorne escorted him back to his chambers. The queen dowager still did not trust him enough to have free reign of the castle.

“You must eat more than that,” Wylla protested. “You’re growing frail.”

“I ate the bread and half the soup,” Aerys said. “Now, where is it?”

Wylla froze, her eyes darting around the room as if checking to see if someone was watching them. She hurried towards him, handing him the quill, ink, and scroll she had stored in her pockets.

“Thank you, Wylla,” he smiled. “Here,” he said, tossing her a large black purse. “As a token of my gratitude.”

She frowned, peeking into the bag. Wylla gasped, trying to return it. “This is far more than we agreed on. I cannot take it.”

Aerys waved his hand, pushing her away. “You must. I have put you at great risk by involving you in my scheme. Keep the coin. It is the least I can do.”

Her lip wobbled as she nodded her head in agreement. “Who are you writing?” She asked.

“Rhaenyra,” Aerys answered truthfully.

She gasped, “They could have your head for this!”

“I need- I need to know the truth,” Aerys stammered. Dipping the quill in ink. “I need to know if she was behind the murder of Jaehaerys.”

“Oh gods,” Wylla sighed. “And if she denies it, then what? You’ve already aligned yourself with the king. You said you are his friend. He depends on you!”

Aerys ignored her.

“Will you betray him?” She asked suddenly.

The question startled him. His head snapped towards her.

“No,” Aery hissed.

“I just,” he sighed. “I need to know Wylla.”

“This is a mistake,” she reproached. “If they find out you’re sending messages to Rhaenyra without their permission, they will have your head!"

Aerys sighed, “I know.”

“You’re a fool,” She shook her head disapprovingly.

“I know that too,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Make it quick.” She replied. “My friend at the fishing port will not wait long. We must hurry if you wish for him to deliver it.”

He nodded, quickly putting quill to paper.

Dear Rhaenyra, I hope this letter finds you well. I wish to express my sincerest condolences for Luke's passing. You have my deepest sympathies. I am sure by now you’ve heard that I have aligned myself with Aegon. It is true. I am sorry. I owe you a great debt for everything you have done for me all these years. I had hoped that one day I would be able to find a way to repay you, and yet it seems I have done the exact opposite. But that is not why I write this letter. Aegon has accused you of having a hand in the death of his son. I do not wish to believe you could be responsible for such savagery. I need to know-

Wylla cleared her throat loudly, nudging her hip against the table.

“What are you-” Aerys gasped as the ink spilled across the table.

Wylla snatched the scroll, hiding it away in her bosom.

The doors of his chamber opened before he could react. Lady Alicent entered, her eyes searching every corner of the room. Her panicked expression made his stomach churn.

“What’s happened?” He asked.

She walked towards the table, resting her hands against the wood. She hung her head, releasing a shuddered sigh.

“Aegon is gone.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “Gone where?”

“Rook’s Rest, no doubt.”

“Rook’s rest? The fool is going to get himself killed!” Aerys fumed.

Alicent kept her head down, not saying anything.

“You must let me go after him,” he demanded.

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes wide. “No- no, absolutely not.”

“You must!” Aerys insisted.

“No, I cannot.” The queen dowager shook her head.

“I have to bring him back!” Aerys contested. “Dragonstone is just across the bay! Lord Staunton sits on Rhaenyra’s council! What if she sends one of her dragons to defend his land?”

“Aegon has Sunfyre with him.”

“Sunfyre is small, with no more battle experience than his rider!” Aerys cried out.

“I do not trust you!” She hissed, gesturing to the quill and ink on the table. “How do I know you will not flee to Dragonstone the second I let you go?”

Aerys marched forward, taking her roughly by the arms.

“You have just lost your grandson. Are you so eager to lose a son as well?!”

His chest heaved wildly as his heart thumped in his chest. The woman’s eyes widened, filled with fear.

Aerys sighed, dropping his hands to his side. “I’m sorry,” he choked.

He lowered his head, his eyes burning with tears. His lips trembled, and his face contorted into anguish. Would Aegon die? Would he lose him so soon?

“Go,” she whispered.

Shocked, he lifted his head to face her. A small fire of hope kindled in his heart. He nodded his head. Aerys ran over to the chest at the bottom of his bed. He rummaged through his things, tossing everything onto the floor until he found a pair of riding gloves. He shoved them into his pocket as he sprinted out of the room. He did not slow down for a second, not paying any mind to the people he knocked out of the way.

When Aerys reached the outer yard, he grabbed the nearest horse. Pushing some lord, he could not be bothered to remember out of the way. The man cursed at him as he rode away.

He made it to the dragon pit in record time. Aerys hopped off of the horse before it even had time to stop. He stumbled but carried on.

Aerys pushed the doors of the dragon pit open. He ignored the dragon keepers, who shouted after him as he ran towards the man-made caves where the dragons were kept. The roars of a restless Agana soon drowned out their voices. He could hear the loud thuds as she rammed her head against the giant gate, trying to reach him.

“I am here, my dragon!”

Agana whined, trying to snake her head past the bars.

“Open the gate,” he ordered.

The dragon's keepers looked at one another, unsure what to do.

“Open the fucking gate!” He commanded.

Agana bared her teeth, letting out a low growl. The men did not waste another second. Aerys slipped under the gate, not waiting for it to rise fully. Agana cooed, pressing her head against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispered.

Aerys leaned his head down to press it against hers. He could not fight the tears that escaped his eyes. He had missed her dearly. Being away from her was the worst pain imaginable.

“We must go,” he sniffled, pulling back to meet her eyes.

He ran his hand across her neck as he walked to her side. Agana lowered her body to the ground. Aerys pulled on his riding gloves. His fingers curled around the ropes attached to her saddle. He quickly made the climb, as he had done a thousand times before. Aerys hoisted his leg over the saddle, settling in. He rubbed a gloved hand over Agana’s silver scales.

“Sōvēs, Agana!”

Aerys’ hands gripped tightly onto the handlebars of his saddle. The dread in his heart grew as his eyes found no trace of Sunfyre’s golden scales. The wind blew hard against his face as Agana soared through the sky. He was unsure of how long Aegon had been gone. Would he reach him in time? Was he already too late?

Agana called to Aerys, alerting him to some potential danger. Aerys stayed silent, listening. From the distance, he could make out the faint sound of a dragon’s roar.

“Follow it, Agana!”

She shrieked, obeying his command. Agana charged forward, moving even faster now that she had a clear grasp on her target. Aerys squinted his eyes. In the distance, he could make out brilliant flashes of red and gold. Icy fire coursed through his veins, igniting his skin in a rush of cold flames. His entire body was shaking as fear seeped into his bones. Rhaenys was here? Had they sent her alone? Was Baela or Jace here as well?

Agana hissed as a giant burst of dragon flame lit up the sky.

“Halt!” Aerys called.

Agana followed his command. Her wings flapped loudly as they hovered in the air, watching Meleys attack Sunfyre from below.

Aerys’ heart hammered in his chest.

This would be his only chance for freedom. He could turn away and fly to Dragonstone, grovel at Rhaenyra’s feet, and beg for her forgiveness. He still held onto hope that she would take him back. Aerys was her nephew—the last living memory of her sister. Rhaenyra had opened her heart to him and raised him alongside her children. He owed her a debt that could never be repaid. Could he turn his back on her now when she needed him most?

Then Aegon’s voice echoed in his mind, his words repeating over and over again.

“You’ll never choose me. You never have.”

Aerys closed his eyes as the many shared memories of his and Aegon’s youth flooded his mind. He remembered the many nights Aegon stayed awake with him, distracting him from his misery. The many hours of boredom that Aegon endured so that Aerys would not have to sit in the library alone. Aerys thought of the many times he held Aegon as he cried. He had to comfort him often when the boy’s mother was too harsh on him. Or when his father’s lack of endearment became too much for him to bear.

Aegon was his friend, his very first friend. Time had driven them apart, but that love Aerys held for him had never faded. If anything, the distance had only made it grow stronger.

Sunfyre’s cries of pain echoed in the air, forcing Aerys back into the present. His eyes widened, and he watched in horror as the golden dragon fell from the sky.

Sunfrye screeched in pain. He flapped his wings, desperately trying to regain flight. The dragon was able to spin around, catching himself before he crashed to the ground. Sunfyre shrieked as he flapped his wings, ascending higher in the sky, trying to reach them. Meleys circled, heading straight for him.

Now was the time. The choice Aerys made now would set him on a path he could never return from. If he turned away, he would be leaving Aegon to die. Sunfyre stood no chance against the fierce Red Queen. But if he stayed, he would have no choice but to face the Red Queen and her rider himself. His heart ached at the thought of sending Agana into battle.

Princess Rhaenys was no great friend of his, but he was close to the woman’s granddaughters. In those years on Dragonstone, he had come to see the girls as his sisters. If Agana and Sunfyre fought together, there was a chance they could overpower Melyes and her rider. Yet the thought of doing so made him feel ill. There was no one more accursed than the kinslayer.

A deep grumble formed in Agana’s throat. Aerys reached a hand back, strapping himself into his saddle. His fingers curled tight around the handlebars as he gave the command.

“Angōs, Agana!”

The silver dragon turned her head to him, looking him in the eyes. The look of confused sadness she gave him filled his heart with great sorrow. He rubbed a gloved hand over the scales on her back.

Sunfyre let out a loud coo, calling to her. Agana turned her head, watching him struggle to reach them. She let out a doleful cry but obeyed.

Agana charged forward, ramming her head into Meleys’, using her horns to drive the red queen away from Sunfyre. The two dragons of silver and red danced in the air, biting and clawing at one another. Agana latched onto the side of Meleys’ neck, trying to bite down as hard as she could. The red queen shrieked; she rounded her neck as best as possible, trying to lunge at Aerys, who tried desperately to avoid her teeth.

Agana lifted her wing, trying to shield him. Meleys wasted no time, digging her claws into the silver dragon’s underbelly, but Agana’s jaw only tightened.

The red queen roared, snapping her jaws at Aerys once more. She managed to sink her teeth into the muscle of Agana’s arm. The silver dragon finally released her neck and pulled back with a hiss. Meleys used this time to dig her claws into the side of Agana’s face. The silver dragon shrieked in pain, and they began falling.

The red queen pulled away, chasing after Sunfrye once again. Aerys tried to command Agana to fly, but the silver dragon shrieked in agony. Aerys could see the blood spurting from her face, but he could not see the full extent of her injury. He turned his head, watching as they began plummeting down to the ground. The man pulled one of his gloves off, rubbing his bare palm over the scales of her back. Come on, he whispered in his mind. Fly. You have to fly.

He repeated the words in his head over and over again. The world seemed to slow down to the point where he could feel his pulse thrumming in his veins. His hands shook, but not with fear. Aerys grabbed the reins, pulling them with all the strength he could muster.

Just as they were about to hit the ground, Agana pulled up and flapped her wings. They hovered just a few inches off the ground as Agana tried to overcome her pain.

Sunfyre’s screeches and Melyes' growls rang loudly above them. They both raised their heads, watching Melyes catch Sunfyre by the wing. Agana growled, giving chase. Sunfyre cried and clawed, trying to wriggle free from the red queen's grasp. Agana rushed forward. She tried to aim for the red queen’s rider, but Aerys pulled at the reins, steering her away.

He could not do it. He did not wish to bear the burden of being a kinslayer. The gods had cursed him enough as it is. They just needed to get Melyes’ attention on them and buy Sunfyre enough time to get away.

The two of them circled back around. Agana growled and sunk her teeth into one of the red queen’s legs, trying to pull her away, but to no avail. Sunfyre lunged at Meleys’ head, ripping off one of her many horns. The red queen screeched but refused to let go. She kicked her other leg at Agana, trying to fend her off while still holding Sunfyre. Agana’s teeth chomped down, and she shook her head wildly as if trying to tear Meley’s leg off her body.

Suddenly, she stopped. Agana snapped her head to the side, and a low, guttural growl emitted from her throat. Aerys barely had time to turn his head before coming face to face with a giant ball of fire.

Agana pulled up, but not fast enough. Aerys howled in agony as the unbearable heat of the dragon flame bit into the right side of his body. The putrid smell of burning flesh overwhelmed his senses. His eyes burned from the smoke, and he struggled to breathe. He could feel them climbing higher as Agana tried to get him out of harm's way.

The nightmarish screams of Sunfyre filled the air. Aerys wiped his eyes, trying to clear his vision. He watched, paralyzed by fear, as the golden dragon fell from the sky. Agana did not hesitate. She dived down, flapping her wings as hard as she could, trying to reach Sunfrye before he could plummet to the ground. But they were too late. Sunfyre crashed into the trees with a large burst of flames.

Agana and Aerys both roared in anguish.

They stopped, hovering above the trees. Aerys stretched his neck as far as he could, trying desperately to find some sign- any sign of Aegon. There was none.

No! He cannot be dead. He can't be.

A terrible, sickening dread washed over him. Aerys heart was thudding in the back of his throat. Something inside him wrenched and soared. This could not be the end. Not now, not yet. It was too soon.

“No,” He whispered. “Land, Agana!”

Agana flapped her wings, easing herself to the ground. Aerys hastily unstrapped himself from the saddle. He slid down the side of her body. The shock of his landing caused him to stumble, but he was able to keep from falling.

Agana let out a whining, breathing-like noise. She turned her neck, pressing her head against his shoulder as if trying to nurse his wounds. Aerys winced as he looked upon his wounds. There were small patches of slightly charred flesh here and there. The red, black, and yellow burns covered his right shoulder and extended down to his elbow. But there was no pain. The entire area just felt numb, though he knew the pain would surely come later.

Agana pulled away. Aerys could see her face now. Giant, jagged claw marks ran across the left side of her face, and there was a gaping hole where her eye once sat. The damage done to her underbelly was not as severe as he thought it would be, thank the gods.

A lump had formed in his throat. The corner of his lips pulled down, shaking as he tried to stop the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.”

The silver dragon trilled, carefully nuzzling the tip of her snout against his stomach.

“You did well,” he praised, caressing her face. “Thank you.”

He pulled away, moving around her. Aerys found Sunfyre curled up on his side, grumbling in pain. He approached slowly, not wanting to frighten him. The golden dragon did not seem to care for his efforts.

Sunfrye growled, baring his teeth, but the dragon could not raise his head. Aerys held his left hand up in surrender.

“I’m here to help him.”

The golden dragon snarled at him.

“Please,” he pleaded.

Agana crawled behind the wounded dragon, resting her head against his own. She released a loud hum from her chest, almost like a pur. The sound seemed to calm him. His growling ceased, and he retracted his teeth. Aerys approached him, carefully climbing over the dragon's tail. Sunfyre had curled himself around Aegon, still trying his best to defend his rider.

Aerys gasped when he saw the state of Aegon—his body, battered and burned. Aerys inched closer. His knees wobbled, and his terror mounted with every step. Aegon was lying still on his back. His violet eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids.

Aerys fell to his knees, his eyes trailing over the man’s wounds. His stomach clenched, dread twisted in his gut.

“Aegon?” He called, his voice thick with fear.

But Aegon did not move, and he did not make a sound. The armor he wore seemed to have melted into his flesh.

Agana growled, raising her head. Aerys snapped his head to the side, watching Aemond march towards them, wielding Blackfyre. There was something in the man’s gaze, something dark. He was uncertain as to what the man’s intentions were. Aerys did his best to shield Aegon’s body with his own despite his injured shoulder. He was not afraid of him. Aemond would be a fool if he tried to harm either one of them in the presence of their dragons.

As he approached, Agana snarled at the man. Aemond’s eye flickered up to Agana before looking back to Aerys. Just as he raised the blade, a voice called out.

It was Ser Criston. Aerys shot Aemond one last glare. He turned around, focusing his attention back on Aegon.

“I choose you, Aegon,” Aerys whispered, his bottom lip trembling. “I choose you.”

Tags: @saicherry, @sadpuffpuff, @willow-red, @teamavatar13

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: angst, mentions of Jaehaerys, grief, alludes to smut at the end

a/n: No beta, so I apologize for grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

Aerys rested on the soft feather bed, facing Aegon. His fingers lightly pushed loose strands of hair away from the man’s face. Aerys had been able to wake the man up just long enough to take him to bed some time ago. Aegon had demanded Aerys stay by his side. Not wishing to argue with the half-lucid man, he agreed. However, Aerys had barely slept at all. He had spent most of the night awake, at war with his mind. The murder of Jaehaerys had only further complicated things for him. He did not want to believe Nyra could do something so terrible- so horrid. But what if she had?

Grief has a way of making people behave out of character. The overwhelming pain and sorrow of losing a child could make someone act out in ways that they later wish they hadn’t. But even then, that was not an excuse. It does not justify the murder of an innocent child. And no later regrets would restore that which has been lost.

“Aerys?” Aegon called, freeing the man from his thoughts.

“I’m still here,” he replied, moving his hand to caress Aegon’s cheek.

The sun shines on his skin, and he’s warm. Aegon’s eyes peek open as if checking to see if it was indeed Aerys beside him.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?” Aerys asks.

“For staying.”

A sad smile spreads on Aerys’ lips. “Of course.”

Aegon groaned, pulling himself up. Aerys turned away, trying to give the man some privacy as he emptied his bladder into a chamberpot. There was a knock at the door. Aerys quickly stood up from the bed, his hands furiously dusting off his clothes, trying to make himself look presentable.

The doors pushed open, and Aerys swallowed harshly, watching the queen dowager enter the room. The woman paused, her eyes looking him up and down. He clenched his fists at his sides, feeling exposed.

“Mother,” Aegon greeted, moving over to the table in his room to pour himself a glass of wine. “To whom do we owe the pleasure?”

The woman turned her head, glaring at her eldest son, “Ser Criston Cole.”

Aegon’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardened. “Has Ser Arryk succeeded?”

The woman scoffed, “His scheme has failed. Rhaenrya still lives.”

Aerys shot Aegon a quizzical look and asked, “What scheme?”

The pair turned their heads towards him.

“He has not told you?” The woman asked patronizingly. “Ser Criston sent Ser Arryk to Dragonstone. So that he could disguise himself as his twin and slay Rhaenyra.”

“And you condoned this- this stunt?” Aerys frowned, his mind still processing the woman’s words.

Aegon turned his head, avoiding Aerys’ gaze. An uncomfortable tension arose in the air. The queen dowager glanced between the both of them.

With a loud, exasperated sigh, she said, “I shall leave you both to discuss this. Do try not to take too long. Your councilmen are waiting.”

The door closed loudly behind her, leaving the two men alone. It seemed their brief moment of respite had come to an end. Aegon leaned his head back, finishing the last of his wine, before moving to the table to refill his cup. Aerys watched him closely, waiting for him to speak. With each second that passed, he found himself growing increasingly irritated.

“Have you nothing to say?” Aerys asked, not bothering to hide the frustration in his tone.

“What would you have me say?” Aegon turned around.

Aerys found himself bewildered by the lack of interest in Aegon’s voice.

“I wish for you to speak the truth.”

“The truth?” Aegon repeated. His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared as he breathed heavily through his nose. “The truth is that- that whore murdered my son!”

“No,” Aerys shook his head, turning away.

“Yes! Yes, Aerys!” Aegon growled as he marched closer.

Aerys could feel the man standing behind him, glaring at the back of his head.

“She could not have done this.” Aerys tried to reason, more to himself than Aegon.

“Then who else?!” Aegon shouted. “Who Aerys? Tell me!”

“I-” Aerys sighed, “I do not know.”

“You do know. You just refuse to accept it.”

Aerys closed his head, dropping his head. Aegon’s words pained him greatly, but he spoke the truth, as Aerys had wanted.

“I don’t know why I bother,” Aegon sighed wearily. “You don’t believe me. You’ve already convinced yourself of her innocence. In your eyes, she is without flaw. So gracious and delicate and-”

“Aegon, please,” Aerys begged.

“No, it is true!” Aegon argued. “And in your eyes, I am what? A fool? The depraved wretch who has led poor Aerys astray.”

“No!” Aerys denied. He whirled around, trying to take Aegon by his arms.

“No,” Aegon grunted, pushing his hands away. “You’ve made it clear how little I matter to you. After all, how could I ever compare to your precious Rhaenyra?”

Aerys dropped his hands back to his sides, watching feebly as Aegon turned his back to him. Aegon walked over to the hearth, letting his body slump down in a chair. The same one that had held him as he wept over the loss of his son.

“You’ll never choose me. You never have,” Aegon faltered.

“That is not true,” Aerys protested.

“Isn’t it?” Aegon gave a sad smile. “I have laid myself bare for you, repeatedly and every time you run from me.”

“Aegon I,” Aerys stops, lost for words.

It was like a pit had formed in his stomach- his intestines tied themselves into knots.

“You abandoned me,” The hurt was evident in his voice. “I pleaded. I begged you to stay, but you wouldn’t. Instead, you ran off to play happy family with her on Dragonstone. For five years, you didn’t write. You never came back. You wrote me off as if I meant nothing to you.”

Aegon stared at him. His eyes held so much sadness, hurt, and betrayal. They sent a deep chill down Aerys’ spine. A powerful sadness fills his chest. It’s almost painful.

“It was not that simple, I assure you.” Aerys objected.

“I needed you,” Aegon whined. “I had no one. I just wanted my friend back.”

“I had to go,” Aerys trembled. “I had to.”

“Why?” Aegon asked.

“Because I could not be your friend,” Aerys admitted. “I tried, I did. But I always ended up in the same dark place, miserable. It was not an easy choice, but I had to make it. For myself, for you.”

Aegon’s face contorted into one of pain and suffering. He turned away, lowering his head. “For me,” he murmured.

For a while, neither of them spoke again. Both are too lost in their own wild emotions to think clearly. When Aerys returns to his senses, he decides to try to sway the conversation away from them.

“Aegon,” Aerys spoke softly as he approached the man. “You have both lost something that can never be replaced, but you both still have people who care for you and depend on you. If this war persists, how many more will die? How much more are you willing to lose?”

“I will not lose anything else! That is why I am doing this!” Aegon snapped, pounding his fist on the arm of the chair.

“That is why you must stop this!” Aerys pleaded, kneeling in front of the man. He took Aegon’s hands into his own.

Aegon stared at him, eyes welling with tears. His lower lip quivered, and Aerys could feel the slight tremble in his hands. Aegon pulled a hand away, raising it to cup the side of Aerys’ face. Aerys closed his eyes, nuzzling into his palm, losing himself in the man’s warmth.

“Do you love me?” Aegon asked.

Without hesitation, Aerys opened his eyes and said, “My love for you is the only thing I can be sure of in these dark times.”

“Then choose me,” Aegon pleaded, his voice wavering. “Rule and fight by my side.”

“You’re asking me to make an impossible choice,” Aerys whined, shaking his head.

Aegon released a shuddering breath, sitting up straight. “You must choose Aerys. Either join me or die.”

“You would have me killed?”

The question made Aegon flinch. Aerys believed he could see the man’s heart and mind battling for control in his eyes.

“I do not wish to,” he answered honestly. “But if you force my hand, I will have no choice. I have spared you all the time I can. I must know where your loyalty lies.”

Aerys started to snivel and dropped his head. Aegon placed a hand on his chin, lifting his head.

“You were there the day Jaehaerys was born. You even held him.”

The two men shared a sad smile as they remembered that day.

“But you did not have to see his- his body. You did not see what those beasts did to him. What she sent them to do.” Silent tears fell from Aegon’s violet eyes. “Join me,” he pleaded once more.

Aerys could not speak; he could not trust his voice. He balled his hands into first, trying desperately to stop the trembling.

“Please,” Aegon begged.

Aerys believed he was damned one way or the other. He must truly be cursed. Perhaps the all-knowing gods had seen his sins- his shame and wished to punish him. Perhaps they were never there; maybe they had abandoned him long ago. With a reluctant sigh, Aerys nodded his head.

–

The hour of the owl was quickly approaching. The full moon sat up high, resting in the dark abyss of the night sky.

“A seat on the council,” Wylla said, astonished.

“I’m merely a guest.” Aerys shrugged.

The day had come and gone. Aegon decided that Aerys would now be attending the small council meetings. Though only as a guest, Ser Criston Cole had been named Aegon’s new hand. Fortunately for Aerys, Aegon had allowed him to refrain from attending today’s meeting on account of his poor emotional state. He had been rather upset after their argument.

Aerys was exhausted, but his mind seemed incapable of slowing down.

“Still, you must feel special!” Wylla smiled, running the brush through his hair.

“Special,” Aerys hummed. “That’s certainly a word for it.”

The woman stilled. “Are you unhappy?”

Aerys sighed wearily, his eyes staring at her through the mirror. “How happy would you be if all you could do is sit back and watch as your family tears itself apart?”

She frowned, “Not too happy, I suppose.”

He nodded his head, “Precisely.”

There was a knock at the door, though the person behind it waited for no response before stumbling into the room. Wylla placed the brush on the table, quickly brushing off her apron. Aerys felt his stomach churn as he noticed a familiar face staring at him through the mirror.

“Cousin,” the man giggled as he swayed, struggling to keep his balance.

The fool was drunk.

“You may go, Wylla,” Aerys said, dismissing the woman.

She bowed before taking her leave. Aerys stood up from his chair, turning around to face the man dressed in expensive fabrics, with the red lion of their house embroidered on his collar. It was his cousin, Martyn Reyne.

Martyn stumbled towards Aerys, clumsily throwing his arms around him. Aerys stiffened, uncomfortable with the man’s affection. He awkwardly patted the man’s back a couple of times before pushing him away.

“Cousin,” He nodded. “I hear you’ve been appointed to the Kingsguard?”

“By the king himself,” the man smirked, brandishing the new sword he had been given.

Aerys had to refrain from laughing as he looked the man up and down. He was hardly worthy of such a prestigious position. Aerys was unsure if the man knew how to use that sword, which he proudly displayed.

“Hmm,” Aerys hummed. “Why are you here?”

“His grace, the king, has summoned you.”

“The hour is quite late,” Aerys sighed.

Martyn shrugged, sheathing his weapon. “He requires your... counsel.”

Martyn's eyes drifted to the bruises on Aerys’ neck before moving them back up to his face. Aerys did not miss the glint of amusement in the man’s eyes. He glared at the drunken fool.

“Why did he send you?” Aerys asked.

“He thought you would feel more comfortable seeing a familiar face.”

“Indeed,” Aerys nodded. “I had not expected to see you in the capital. You seemed quite... content in my brother’s hall the last time we met.”

Martyn pursed his lips, his face grew red, and his eyes flooded with anger. “Yes, well, it was your brother who sent me. To bend the knee to King Aegon in his stead.”

“Robb bent the knee to Aegon?”

Martyn nodded with a smug expression on his face. Aerys had never imagined Robb to be an oathbreaker. The news was like a knife to his heart.

“As have you, I hear. Robb will be pleased. He always worried about your... attachment to the princess.”

Aerys flashed him a tight smile but stayed silent.

“Shall we?” Martyn asked, nodding towards the door.

Aerys took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He nodded, letting the man lead the way. The castle halls were relatively empty. Aerys had found himself immensely grateful for that.

“You and the king are quite... close,” Martyn slurred, and his body swayed with every step.

“Is that a question?” Aerys grumbled.

“No, more of a keen observation.” Martyn laughed. “This is your second time entertaining him in his private quarters this late. Is it not?”

“The king requires my counsel, nothing more.” Aerys snapped.

Martyn turned his head to look at Aerys. His eyes sparkled with merriment.

“Nothing more, indeed,” He smirked.

The implications behind the man's words were not lost on him. Aerys cursed under his breath, chastising himself for giving in to the man’s taunts.

They finished their walk in silence. The two came to a stop when they reached the door. Martyn attempted to open it, but the door was pulled open. Two men stumbled out of the doorway. They tried to stand up straighter when they saw him. They must have been the other two knights Aegon had appointed to the kingsguard. They seemed just about as impressive as his cousin. Aerys nodded his head, slipping past them. He could hear Martyn and the others snicker as they closed the door behind him. They were laughing at him. His face burned with embarrassment. Did they know of him and Aegon? How many others knew? He suddenly felt very naked, exposed.

Aerys shook his head, trying to bury these feelings. He was here for Aegon. He had summoned him here.

Aerys found the man sitting at the edge of his bed, fidgeting with his ring. It made Aerys think of his own ring. The one with his mother’s face enameled on it. He had hidden it away with the rest of his things. Aerys could no longer bear to wear it.

“They doubt me.” Aegon slurred, turning his head up to look at Aerys. “They all believe me to be weak.”

“Who?” Aerys asked, taking a seat beside him.

“My mother, my council, all of them. They treat me like I am a child,” Aegon groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What happened?” Aerys asked, placing his hand over Aegons.

“They refuse every idea I have. They do not heed my thoughts. I am the king, and they expect me to sit around and do nothing.” Aegon scoffed. “You should have heard them quarreling like children today.”

“Share your ideas with me. I will listen.” Aerys pressed.

Aegon turned his head to Aerys, his eyes darting up and down the man’s face.

“Alright,” he sighed. “We need Harrenhal. Ser Criston is leading a campaign through the Riverlands. I suggested he take Aemond and Vhagar, in case he stumbles upon one or more of Rhaenyra’s dragons, but he refused. So I decided Sunfyre and I would accompany them, but he refused again.”

“I cannot say that I blame him.”

Aegon frowned, “What do you mean?”

“It’s as you said, you are the king. The men who raise your banner fight for you and you alone. We cannot afford to lose you.”

“Gods,” Aegon scoffed, standing up from the bed. “Don’t do that.”

“Don't do what?”

“Patronize me!” He shouted, whirling around to face Aerys. “I can take it from them, but not you.”

“I’m sorry,” Aerys apologized. “That was not my intention.”

Aegon paced the room with his hands on his hips. Aerys waited patiently on the bed, not wanting to anger him further. After a few moments, Aegon finally stopped, standing just a few feet away from the bed.

“Will you-” Aegon paused, looking everywhere but Aerys’ face. “Will you hold me again?”

The quiver in his voice filled Aerys’ heart with sadness. He asked the question like a child, afraid of judgment or reprimand.

“Of course,” Aerys reassures him with a gentle smile.

Aegon inched towards the bed slowly. Aerys leaned his back against the many pillows that rested against the headboard. He could not help but think that Aegon looked a bit embarrassed. It amused him.

Aegon settled his head on Aerys’ lap. His hands held onto one of Aerys, thumbs gently tracing the lines on his palm. Yes, he was flustered, Aerys thought, as his free hand began absent-mindedly drifting through his hair.

In the candlelight, Aerys could make out the redness in his ear and the faraway look in his eyes. He was curious about what ailed him, but he did not ask. If Aegon wanted to speak, he would.

Aerys rested his head against the headboard, closing his eyes. His entire body felt heavy, as if some unforeseen force was sitting on his chest.

Half-delirious, Aegon mumbled, “It’s all my fault.”

“You mustn't blame yourself,” Aerys whispered.

“How can I not?” Aegon cried. “I- I should have been there! I could have-”

“There is nothing you could done, Aegon. You did not know what would happen. No one did.”

“I loved him,” he whined. “I did- I loved him. I was not the best father to him, but I tried. I wanted to do better. I tried to do better. To make up for my absence. To prove my love for him, and- and now he will never know,” Aegon burst into uncontrollable sobs.

His body convulsed and jerked with each sob and every gasp for air.

Aerys pulled the man into his arms, holding him close to his chest. “He knew Aegon. I’m sure he did.”

Aerys flinched when the top of Aegon’s head brushed against his neck. He adjusted them so Aegon could rest his head on his chest rather than his bruised neck. Aegon cried into Aerys’ chest, his fingers clinging to his sides. Aerys holds him tighter. He does not speak. He does not try to quiet him. He lets him cry himself out. It’s what he needs. This kind of grief is not one that should be contained.

Aegon pulls back, resting his weight on his hands. He looks like a wreck. His face is red, puffy, and stained with tears. He surges forward, capturing Aerys’ lips with his own. Aerys had been surprised but kissed him back. They kiss until they have no choice but to pull back for air, to soothe their burning lungs.

Aegon tried to kiss him again, but Aerys blocked it. Aegon pouted at him and tried again, but Aerys stopped him.

“Aegon,” Aerys sighs.

“Please,” Aegon begs. “I just- I need to feel something else.”

His fingers trail lightly across the side of Aerys’ face. With a beautifully tragic smile, he says, “Something good.”

Aerys is hesitant, but with that forlorn look in Aegon’s eyes, he's unable to deny him.

Tags: @saicherry, @sadpuffpuff, @willow-red, @teamavatar13

#aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x oc #fire and blood #hotd #hotd aegon #house of the dragon fanfic #king aegon #male!oc #targcest #house of the dragon #aegon the elder #aegon fanfiction #aegon the second #aegon ii #house targaryen

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: angst, mentions of Jaehaerys, child loss, grief

a/n: Aerys kinda makes a new friend. Aegon isn't used to people being nice to him. No beta, so I apologize for grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

The sound of glass shattering on the stone floor woke Aerys, forcing him to sit upright. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin, and his heart hammered away in his chest. His eyes scanned the room for potential dangers. During his search, they fell upon a woman standing beside the bathtub in his chamber. It was the maid—the one in charge of delivering his food.

“I apologize, m’lord,” she bowed her head.

Aerys nodded, watching quietly as she bent down to pick up the shards of what he assumed had once been a flagon. She was a short, large woman with dark eyes, limp brown hair, and an ample bosom.

“I’ve prepared you a bath,” she said, dropping the shards into a brown bucket, “Though you’ll have to wait for it to cool down a bit.”

Aerys said nothing. He looked down at his hands resting on the soft wool blanket covering his lap. So, he was not going mad. Someone had covered him up. He turned his head upward, looking to the window. It appeared to be late in the afternoon. The events of last night suddenly came back to him. Unconsciously, he reached a hand up to touch his throat. He flinched; the skin of his throat was tender and sore.

Aerys stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. He moved over to the new mirror in the corner of his room. It had to be replaced, as he had shattered the first one after being told of Luke’s death. He lifted his hair out of the way, observing the red marks that covered his throat. The bruising was only in the beginning stages. But if he looked hard enough, he believed he could make out the shape of Aegon’s hands.

“Should I fetch the maester?” The maid asked timidly.

“No,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

Aerys dropped his hair, letting it cover the red marks as best as it could. He turned around, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the bath. Aerys walked forward, shedding his clothes along the way. The maid released a short gasp and quickly averted her gaze. Aerys paid her no mind, tossing his clothes to the ground. He could smell the fragrant oils that had been placed in the water.

“It’s too hot, m’lord!” The woman warned.

Aerys ignored her words, lowering himself into the scalding hot water. He did not cry out or flinch. He enjoyed the heat against his skin. It made him feel clean, pure. Though he knew he was far from it. Aerys pulled his knees to his chest, watching the steam rise around him. Something had happened, something terrible. However, he did not know what. The look in Aegon’s eyes as he had his hands wrapped around Aerys’ throat haunted him. There was anger and fury, yes, but there was something else, something more. A deep, painful look of despair, of loss. Something that Aerys was not unfamiliar with.

“What has happened?” He asked the maid.

The woman approached slowly, sitting on a stool beside the tub.

“The prince Jaehaerys has been slain,” she answered woefully.

His eyes widened, and water splashed onto the floor as he quickly turned to look at her. He stared into her eyes, desperately searching for some indication of a lie, but there was none. The woman spoke the truth.

“And Jaehaera? Helaena?” Aerys asked hurriedly. Panic filled his chest, and he found it getting increasingly difficult for him to breathe.

“They live.”

A small wave of relief washed over him. Aerys nodded, turning back around. He dropped his head to stare at the water around him.

“How did it happen?”

“Assassins snuck into the castle. The boy was...,” she paused, her voice cracking, “beheaded in his bed.”

Aerys closed his eyes, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. Jaehaerys is dead. Aegon’s words rang loudly in his ears. Did you have something to do with this?! Did you know?! They were words spoken in anger- in grief, but they still felt like a knife stabbing at his heart. Surely, Aegon did not believe Aerys would take part in such an egregious act. To strike down an innocent child in their bed was cowardice. It was an act that only the basest of villains would commit.

“They say it was the Princess Rhaenyra who sent them. In retribution for her son.”

Aerys shook his head. No, he could not—would not believe that Nyra was behind this or that she had even known of it. She was a mother herself, one who had just lost a son. He could not imagine the woman would want to inflict that same pain on anyone, especially Helaena. Nyra had never been close to her siblings, but she held no ill will against them, least of all Helaena. If this was indeed an act of retribution for Luke, why go after Jaehaerys? The boy played no part in what his uncle had done. Aerys doubted the boy even knew of Luke’s existence. It is a lie. It has to be. No, someone else was responsible for this treachery. To butcher a child in their bed like some kind of animal... that was a different kind of brutality. One that Aerys could not even begin to fathom.

Tears fell from his eyes, dripping into the water. The boy's death saddened him, yes, but he worried more for the boy's parents. He worried for the boy’s mother, who would never be able to see or hold her firstborn child again. He worried for the boy’s father, who would seek revenge for the son stolen from him. He worried for the boy’s twin sister, Jaehaera, who would be forced to grow up without her other half at her side. If she even made it to adulthood, that is. War was imminent. Luke and Jaehaerys were the first to die but would not be the last. Many innocents will meet their ends, both low and high-born.

Aerys flinched as water poured down his back, droplets trickling from his long tendrils into the bath.

“I’m sorry m’lord. I thought you would want help washing your hair.” The woman apologized, her voice quivering slightly.

“It’s fine. Continue,” Aerys sniffled, wiping his eyes.

“Yes, m’lord.” The woman whispered, continuing her work.

Aerys leaned his head back, allowing her to pour water over the top of his head. She hummed absentmindedly as she threaded her fingers through his hair. Aerys sat quietly. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. His body ached all over. No doubt the results of sleeping on the bare stone floor. His stomach clenched almost painfully and released a rather loud growl. Aerys felt the heat rising on his face.

“Will you fetch me something to eat?” He asked timorously.

The woman stopped, a small smile spread across her round face.

“Of course, m’lord.”

Aerys nodded, listening as she left the room. He waited until the door locked behind her before laying back in the tub. He took a quick breath before sinking into the water, allowing it to submerge his head completely.

–

Aerys nibbled on the bread in his hands while the maid, whose name he discovered was Wylla, brushed his hair. He also found that the woman had a fondness for talking. Aerys had only asked which region of the realm she had come from, and now he knew that she had a brother who herds goats in the Riverlands, a sister whose husband owns an inn in the Reach, and apparently, they are descendants of some long-vanished king of the First Men.

He had stayed silent as she droned on and on, only letting out the occasional hum to let her know he was still listening. It was better than being trapped alone within the confines of his mind. The skin of his neck was sore; even the slightest touch made him cringe. Wylla had said the bruise was darkening already, with slight purple hues appearing with the red.

His mind drifted to Agana. The man missed her deeply. He missed the warmth of her scales on his skin, the wind blowing through his hair as they flew through the skies, and most of all, he missed the strength she gave him, the courage she made him feel. He needed that courage now more than ever.

“Your grace,” Wylla gasped.

Aerys turned his head, watching as Wylla bowed before the dowager queen. Alicent nodded, dismissing the maid. Wylla took the hint, quickly leaving the room. A white cloak that Aerys did not recognize closed the door behind her. Leaving him alone with the dowager queen. Alicent stood a few feet away, looking as regal as ever. She stared at him, toying with the skin around her fingernails. Aerys sighed before standing, turning around so they were face to face.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lady Alicent.”

“Thank you, Aerys,” she spoke quietly, a slight quiver in her voice.

He was being sincere. The woman had just lost a grandchild. He could not imagine that was an easy pain to bear. She cleared her throat, pushing her shoulders back to appear taller.

“But my grief is not the reason I am here.”

Aerys scrunched his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side. It took only a moment before the meaning of her words dawned on him.

“How is he?”

“Angry,” she sighed, “eager for vengeance.”

“And Helaena?” He asked.

The woman froze, her eyes staring at him. He watched as they welled with tears. Her bottom lip trembled as she let out a shaky breath. The woman cleared her throat, quickly hardening her face. It saddened him to see how quickly she internalized her pain. How quickly she buried it in her heart to put on the brave face that was expected of her.

“She’s alive.” She answered.

The mixture of relief and sorrow in her voice was not lost on him. Helaena was alive but would now have to live with the turmoil of losing a child, her first child. She would bear that pain- that loss for the rest of her life. Would that truly be a life worth living?

“What is it that you need from me?” Aerys asked.

The woman took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. She clasped her hands together and placed them in front of her—an array of conflicting emotions crossed over her glossy eyes. She averted her gaze, lowering her head slightly.

“He needs you,” she answered, with a slightly reluctant tone. “To offer him the solace I cannot.”

Aerys turned away from her. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His lips quivered, and his face contorted as he tried to fight back his tears. The skin of his neck grew hot as he remembered Aegon’s hands around his throat. He did not think Aegon truly meant to hurt him. It was an act done in haste while processing the death of his son. He could not blame him for it. Aerys took a deep breath, spinning back around to face the woman. She stared at him, her eyes trying to gauge his answer. He gave a simple nod.

“Ser Thorne shall escort you to the king,” she said before leaving the room.

The white cloak he did not recognize, Ser Thorne stood at the door. Aerys quickly put on his boots before walking to meet the man. He slowly stepped into the hall. His eyes searched the hall as if this were some sort of trap. Ser Thorne slammed the door shut and began walking. Aerys quickly followed. The castle was dark and quiet. Aerys noted that there were more guards than usual. Looking around in confusion, he realized Ser Thorne was leading him to his grandsire’s bedchamber. However, he quickly realized the reason for this. They crowned Aegon king. Where else would he be besides the king's apartments? Ser Thorne held up a hand, signaling Aerys to stop.

Dread and worry crept into his mind as he realized only a wooden door kept him and Aegon separate. Ser Throne pushed open the door, standing to the side so that Aerys could pass him. Aerys nodded his head as he did so. He watched as the knight closed the door behind him.

Heartwrenching cries pull Aerys away from his thoughts. Painful sobs and even more painful-sounding hiccups echo in the air. The sound broke his heart. He turns around, searching for Aegon. He finds the man hunched over in a chair, fiddling with his ring before the hearth. A tightness filled his chest like there was a hand squeezing his heart. Aerys was familiar with grief, but the grief of losing a child was another matter entirely. Something he had no experience with. It was something he never wanted to experience. He did not think he would be able to survive such a loss.

Lost in his grief, Aegon seemed utterly unaware of his presence. Aerys walked over to the man’s side. He raised his hand, hovering it over Aegon’s shoulder. Perhaps this was a mistake. Their last encounter was not a positive one. Would Aegon even want to see him? Would he want his comfort? Or would his presence merely anger him?

Aegon’s body jerked with each painful gasp that escaped his throat. His head hung low, concealing his face. Aerys took a deep breath, placing a firm hand on Aegon’s shoulder. He was willing to risk facing the man’s wrath. If Aegon wanted to scream at or hurt him, Aerys would let him. Whatever Aegon wanted from him, Aerys would provide it.

Alarmed, Aegon turns his head upwards to find the intruder. His eyes are red and puffy, but he still tries his best to look fierce. Perhaps he was afraid someone had come for his head next. When he realized it was none other than Aerys, his eyes softened. His face crumpled, and he burst into inconsolable tears. Aegon’s hands grabbed Aerys by the hips, pulling him closer. Aerys did not fight or cry out when Aegon’s fingers dug painfully into his skin. Aegon buried his face into Aerys’ clothed stomach, howling like a wounded animal. Aerys used one hand to thread his fingers through Aegon’s hair. The other, he used to rub the man’s back.

“My boy,” Aegon cried, “they killed my boy!”

Aerys dropped his head, closing his eyes. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from crying. He needed to be strong for Aegon. The man needed someone to lean on now, more than ever.

“I saw,” Aegon gasped. “I-I saw him. I h-held his little-little body,” he stammered between sobs.

Aerys rubbed Aegon’s back, trying to soothe him. The man only cried harder. Aerys could feel his tunic clinging to his skin. The result of Aegon’s tears, though Aerys did not mind it.

“I’m so sorry, Aegon...” Aerys whispered through tears.

Aegon shook his head. Aerys stumbled as the man suddenly pushed him away. He watched Aegon pace the room back and forth, shaking his head and muttering.

“Aegon,” Aerys called, trying to catch his attention.

“They took his head,” Aegon whimpered. “They took his fucking head!” He shouted, grabbing a nearby goblet and throwing the glass with all his might.

Aerys flinched as the glass shattered against the wall. He watched helplessly as Aegon slumped to his knees, crying in his hands. Aerys kneeled beside him, pulling the man into his arms. Aegon buried his face in Aerys’ shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Aerys pressed a soft kiss to Aegon’s hair. One hand held the back of Aegon’s neck while the other rested on his back. No words were spoken as they cried and clung to each other for dear life.

Aerys felt Aegon press wet kisses to the side of his neck. He winced; the bruises on his neck pained him. Aegon pulled away, his eyes observing the bruising on Aerys’ neck.

“I hurt you,” he whimpered, his face contorting in anguish.

“Shh,” Aerys shook his head, “I’ll be fine.”

Aerys pulled him closer, resting their heads together. Aegon leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Aerys did not stop him. The kisses are rough and desperate. Aerys feels a hand run down his body, cupping his clothed cock. He pulls back, grabs the hand, and pushes it away. Aegon whimpers, trying to capture Aerys’ lip again, but Aerys shakes his head.

“Just let me hold you,” he says softly.

Aegon stills; his violet eyes are unsure, and he looks almost afraid. Aerys sits on the floor, stretching out his legs. Hesitantly, Aegon lays down, resting his head on Aerys’ lap. He flinches when Aerys lifts his hand but relaxes when he feels Aerys run his fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Aerys continues this even after Aegon falls asleep. His eyes trailed over every inch of Aegon’s face, listening to his friend's soft snores. His back ached from sitting like this, but he did not care. Whatever Aegon needed from him at that moment, he would provide it.

Tags: @saicherry, @willow-red, @sadpuffpuff, @teamavatar13,

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Nine

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: mentions of fasting, suicidal thoughts, choking

a/n: No beta, so I apologize for grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

The following two weeks after his grandsires death had come and gone in a blur. The pounding in Aerys’ head had yet to go away. His cries only seemed to make the pain worse. Aerys spent most of his days weeping. Even when the maid delivered his food morning, noon, and night, he could not stop. The man couldn’t care less about his pride. Lucerys was dead.

When the dowager queen informed him, Aerys refused to believe it. He raged at her, calling her a liar, a traitor, and every other foul name he could think of. When that wasn’t enough, he cursed the gods, both old and new. He destroyed everything within his reach. Luke was gone- dead, murdered by that one-eyed coward who’d rather pick fights with boys than men.

Aerys glared at the stone wall in front of him. His fingers fiddled with the blue-painted dragon in his hands. It was a gift for Viserys, but he had forgotten to give it to him. A deep sadness filled his chest as he thought of the boys. He had not said goodbye to either of them before they left for Dragonstone. And now, there was a chance he would never see them again. There was a chance he would never see any of them again- Nyra, Jace, Joffrey, Rhaena, Baela.

War was coming, and there was no telling which side would prevail. Or if that victory would be worth the price. The war hasn’t even truly begun yet, and already, it has cost Nyra a son. How many more would she lose before this was over? And Aegon. He had children of his own. Would his poor children meet the same fate as Luke? Would their lives be stolen from them before they even have the chance to live them? The gods are cruel. The stranger comes for them all, no matter how innocent or corrupt.

Aerys’ body ached. He had sat at the round table in his bedchamber since he awoke. Aerys found himself unable to go back to sleep. So he decided to sit at the table and had not moved since. A maid delivered his breakfast hours ago, but he did not eat it. The plate sat in the middle of the table, untouched.

The sound of the doors being unlocked made him blink; his eyes stung from staring at the wall for so long. He turned his head, watching as the doors were pushed open wide. They slammed hard against the walls, making loud banging noises. The dreadful noise made Aerys wince. The sound of a child’s laughter filled the air. Aerys watched silently as Aegon sped into the room, holding a child in his arms. The child giggled, clinging tightly onto Aegon’s shoulders as the man spun around in circles. Aegon placed the boy onto the ground, laughing as he stumbled, trying to stay on his feet. It would have been a heartwarming sight had it not been for the prolonged sadness that plagued Aerys’ heart.

“Are you alright, Jaehaerys?” Aegon asks through his laughter, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders to keep him steady.

Jaehaerys looked up to his father, nodding his head with a broad smile.

“Good boy,” Aegon smiled, patting the boy on his head.

Aegon lifted his head to look at Aerys, but the lord quickly turned away, avoiding his gaze. This was their first time in the same room since that night at the inn. And truth be told, Aerys had been thankful for that. He did not have the courage to face Aegon. He did not think he had it even now. But he supposed it was inevitable. They would have to meet again eventually; they might as well get it over with.

Aerys could hear their footsteps drawing closer. He kept his head low; his eyes stared at his bare feet. It wasn’t long before he could see their boots from the corner of his eye.

“Jaehaerys, this is your cousin and a dear old friend of mine, Aerys. Aerys, you remember my son, don’t you?”

Aerys gave a simple nod but did not look their way.

“Aerys was there the day you and your sister were born. He stayed by my side until you both came into the world. Say hello,” Aegon whispered the last two words, nudging the boy to speak.

“Hello,” Jaehaerys said bashfully.

Aerys gave no reply.

This did not seem to bode well with Aegon, who loudly cleared his throat. “My son has said hello.”

Aerys closed his eyes tightly, inhaling deeply through his nose. He lifted his head as he exhaled, trying to keep himself calm.

“I apologize,” he said, looking at the little boy. With a small smile, he replied, “Hello, Jaehaerys.”

Aegon let out a pleased hum, his hands sitting on the small boy's shoulders as he stood behind him proudly. Aerys looked the boy over, taking in his appearance. He believed the boy had his mother's face. Except for his eyes, they looked to be the same as his father's. Jaehaerys seemed distracted. Aerys’ eyes followed the boy's gaze until they landed on the blue dragon in his hands. His fingers tightened around the dragon. The toy was meant to be a gift for Viserys, but now, Aerys did not know if he would ever see the boy again.

Aerys turned his head back to Jaehaerys. The boy’s eyes lit up as he stared at the toy. He turned his eyes to glance at Aerys before quickly looking away.

“Would you like it?” Aerys asked, holding out the toy for Jaehaerys to take.

The boy stared at him, unsure. He turned his head up to his father, who nodded. Jaehaerys turned back to Aerys and nodded his head. Aerys loosened his grip on the dragon, letting the boy take it. A wide smile crossed the boy's face as he excitedly showed it to his father.

“It’s lovely. Why don’t you show Ser Arryk your new toy? Go on,” Aegon smiled, sending the boy to the white cloak who stood watch at the door.

Aegon clapped his hands together. “Now, onto our business, shall we?”

“How is Agana?” Aerys asked hurriedly.

“Hmm?” Aegon hummed, “Oh, she’s fine.” The man waved his hand casually.

Aerys asked nothing else as Aegon rounded the table, taking a seat across from him. Aegon seemed to have some newfound confidence within him. Though aerys supposed any man who had just been crowned and named Lord of The Seven Kingdoms would. Aegon stared at Aerys expectantly. When Aerys did not move or speak, Aegon huffed, drumming his hands on the table before he spoke.

“Alright, I’ll go first, then. My mother has informed me that you remain neutral. I have come here, against her wishes, to ask you to declare for me.”

Aerys was at a loss for words. He hadn’t expected this would be the first thing they would talk about since that night at the inn.

“And if I don’t?” Aerys inquired curiously.

Aegon paused, staring at Aerys in complete perplexity. “Why wouldn’t you? I am the king's firstborn son. My father-”

“Your father declared that Rhaenyra would inherit the throne, not you.”

“He changed his mind.”

“Really?” Aerys scoffed, “With no one but your mother as a witness?”

“My mother would not lie to me about this.”

“It doesn’t make sense, Aegon. Why would he wait until his deathbed? Why, in twenty years, did he never mention any doubts? Why would he not proclaim it before his court when he had reaffirmed Luke-”

Aerys gasped. The mere utterance of Luke's name brought him to tears. He closed his eyes and dropped his head. He bit his lip, breathing deeply through his nose to fight back his sadness. Aerys felt a soft hand grasp his own. Usually, he would have pulled away, but he needed the comfort. He craved it. The two weeks of isolation were beginning to weigh down on him.

“I am sorry about that,” Aegon whispered loud enough for only Aerys to hear. “I know he meant a great deal to you.”

Aerys shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The deed is done.”

The two men stilled, staring at one another. Aerys wondered what was going on in the man’s head. Did Luke’s death mean nothing to him? The two of them had been friends once.

“I want- no. I need you at my side, Aerys. Together, you and I can lead this realm to greatness.”

Aerys furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

Aegon smiled; his eyes flickered to the door before he leaned in closer. Aerys did the same, listening intently.

“I wish for you to serve as my hand.”

Aerys tilted his head in confusion. “Your hand?”

Aegon nodded in confirmation.

“And is your grandfather aware that you’re taking away his seat at the table?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aegon waved his hand. “I am the king. It is my choice.”

Aerys dropped his gaze to their hands, realizing they were still connected. Neither of the two had pulled away yet.

“All those years you’ve spent with your head stuck in books,” Aegon smirked, “You’re probably wiser than all those pretentious, self-serving lords who sit on my council.”

“If I do this, will you spare Rhaenyra?”

Aegon froze, and the smirk he had on his face vanished. In an instant, his face dropped completely. Aerys suddenly regretted asking the question, but he had to know. Aegon sighed and pulled his hand away. Aerys shifted uncomfortably in his seat, awaiting the man’s response. Aegon rubs a hand over his forehead, contemplating.

“My mother believes you can help us come to some sort of... peace with Rhaenyra. If you can get her to renounce her claim and bend the knee, I shall pardon her and all those who have sworn fealty to her cause.”

“And if I can’t?”

Aegon sighed wearily, “You already know.”

Aerys lowered his eyes to the table. Indeed, he did know. He began fiddling with the ring on his small finger. He wondered what his mother would do. What she would want him to do. He could side with Aegon, but that would mean betraying Rhaenyra. If he sided with Aegon, he would be participating in the usurpation of her inheritance. If Rhaenyra did not agree to their peace terms, he would have no choice but to fight against her. And Luke, he would be betraying him too. If he sided with the Greens, that would mean siding with Aemond. Rhaenyra would hate him. She would want him dead. They all would. Jace, Baela, Rhaena, all of them would all want him dead. A loud ringing sound filled his ears. The pounding in his head was returning.

“It is a difficult decision. I will return in the morning for your answer.” Aegon said, tapping the table a few more times before standing.

He rounded the table, placing a firm hand on Aerys’ shoulder and squeezing. It was a silent plea. A plea for help from his oldest friend. His first friend. The man who had weaved his way into his heart and refused to leave. Aerys closed his eyes and listened as the man’s footsteps receded. It wasn’t until he heard the door lock again that he dropped his head in his hands, tears sliding down his face.

Aerys stared blankly at the plate in front of him. It was too dark to make out what was on the plate now. It had been delivered hours ago. The entire room was dark. Aerys had remained seated at the table even after Aegon had left. He had not bothered to light another candle when the one the maid left behind had burned out. His throat was hoarse; even the quietest whimper made him squirm in discomfort. His eyes burned, but he was unable to shed any more tears.

Aerys had no idea what was going on outside of his room. He had received no more visitors besides the maid who delivered food and wine. However, she seemed just about as clueless as he did. All he knew was that Aegon had been crowned, Princess Rhaenys had fled on dragonback to join Nyra’s cause, and Lucerys was dead. Aerys breathed deeply through his nose as he leaned his head back.

He had no idea how well his winged companion was fairing compared to him. Aegon’s nonchalant answer did nothing to soothe his worries. The maid who delivered his food had no information about Agana. Aerys found it difficult to believe the she-dragon was doing much better. She had been trapped within the dragon pit for a fortnight, unable to roam free like she had been for the past few years on Dragonstone. Oh, how he wished he could see her. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to see her. Just a glimpse. He didn’t even need to touch her.

Aerys groaned, his body stiff from sitting in the hard wooden chair all day. His stomach rumbled and clenched tightly like a balled fist, but the discomfort wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Aerys had gone days without food before. Fasting was a way of paying penance to the gods for his sins. Even if he wished to eat, the man doubted he could. Instead, he settled on numbing himself on wine. There was nothing else for him to do. They kept him locked away in this room, with no one but the rats standing guard over him to keep him company.

They were not the friendliest of companions. Through the darkness, he could feel their dark, beady eyes staring at him, waiting. Aerys had to stomp his feet now and then so they would keep their distance. He could hear them now, squeaking and chattering their teeth, desperate to satisfy their hunger. The sounds frightened him when he was a child and when he first came to his grandfather’s court. Of course, there were rats in Castamere, but not nearly as many as there seemed to be here. This castle seemed to serve as one giant nest for them. When the day ended, and the castle went dark, you could only hear the maddening sounds of tiny feet pitter-pattering against stone and wood.

Aerys sniffled, and a loud screech filled the air as he pushed his chair back. He could hear his bones crack as he stood up. His eyes found the sliver of moonlight peeking under the window shutters. He could hear the rats scatter as he stumbled over to the window. Blindly, his hands ran over the wood, trying to find the latch. The man sighed in relief when his hands finally ran over the cool metal. A sudden wind blew into the room as he opened the window shutters. He squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the light of the moon and stars sitting high above them.

Aerys leaned over, resting his arms on the windowsill. He peeked his head over, staring down at the ground far below. It looked to be a great distance. Indeed, a fall this high would be fatal. Aerys felt a sudden urge to jump. Never in his life could he recall feeling such a strong urge before. It was as if something or someone was whispering in his ear, telling him to jump. His head began pounding again, and he was filled with a sense of disgust and repulsion. The man felt like he was going to be sick.

He closed his eyes, trying desperately to focus on the waves of the Blackwater Bay. Dragonstone was on the other side, guarding the edge of the bay. It was a short distance from the capital. It was even shorter on dragonback. Aerys let out a shuddered breath, and a familiar sting returned to his eyes. No doubt the loss of Lucerys is hanging heavy over all of those on Dragonstone. Though he knew no one felt it more than Rhaenyra. The woman had just lost a child, her son. Aerys could not begin to imagine her pain, her grief. He wished to go to her, to be by her side.

But alas, he could not. He was trapped—held hostage in this prison, high above the ground. Aerys was unsure of what fate awaited him. He was afraid, not for himself, but for his family. The impossible choice weighed heavily on his mind. Aegon or Rhaenyra. Whichever side he chose would most likely mean death for the other. Aegon’s offer did not seem so appealing. There would be no chance for peace now, not that he believed there ever was. Indeed, any chance of that had ended with Luke’s death. Aerys was no fool. He knew that Luke was only the first. Many more would die before this war was ended. He believed he would be among them.

He could do it now. He could end it now, take the choice away from himself. They could not make him choose if he were dead. The dowager queen was holding him hostage. In hopes he could help them make Rhaenyra bend the knee. Aerys believed the woman to be a fool. Rhaenyra had raised him, yes, but he was not her son. Why would she relinquish her claim for him? Especially after they had taken Luke from her.

Aerys shook his head. They would want retribution for Luke’s death. The man was surprised it had not happened yet. Perhaps they were simply biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Aemond is a prince. The man most likely always has a guard or two with him. And even if he didn’t, he was a skilled fighter. They couldn’t send just anyone to take him out. Not if they wanted their plan to succeed anyway.

The sounds of chaos suddenly filled the air. Aerys watched as guards began fleeing back and forth across the gardens below, barking commands. What was happening? Was the city under attack? Had Rhaenyra been able to gather an army so soon? Or were they approaching on the dragon back? Did they mean to settle this now?

Shouting could be heard coming from the hall outside of his door. Then his door was being pounded on, the knobs shaking violently. The noise made Aerys jump. Had they come to kill him? He would have no way of protecting himself. They had confiscated his sword and daggers long ago. The man clenched his fists in an attempt to stop the trembling. If this was to be his end, then so be it. He would face the stranger with no fear.

He could hear the doors unlock, and in an instant, they were pushed open. The doors slammed against the stone walls so harshly that Aerys would be surprised if they had not splintered. He barely had time to register what was happening before Aegon entered the room. The man looked around, whipping his head side to side like a wild animal searching for some unforeseen threat. He stopped when his eyes found Aerys at the window.

“Aegon?” Aerys called as the man rushed towards him.

Aerys had no time to say another word before being pushed backward. The window sill dug painfully into the skin of his lower back. For a moment, the fear of being pushed from the window bolted through his body. But instead, clammy hands wrapped themselves around his throat, holding him in place. He finds himself rendered helpless as Aegon’s strength, together with his weight, leans on him. Aerys thought he would snap his neck. Small, rugged gasps were all that escaped Aerys’ throat. He tries to pry the man's hand away but lacks the strength to do so.

“Ae...gon,” Aerys croaked, desperately trying to push the man away. Aegon’s grip only tightened.

“Did you have something to do with this?! Did you know?!” Aegon seethed, eye blazing with fury.

Beads of spit landed on Aerys’ face, but he did not care. His head was spinning, and he could feel himself slowly slipping away. His vision clouded, and he found it difficult to focus on Aegon’s face. Aerys thought he could hear a woman’s voice in the background, though he could not make out what she was saying.

He had been choking at first, but now, no air could press through, and Aerys found himself unwillingly calmed down, staring blankly at Aegon as if asking what he was doing. Was he going to kill him? Now? Like this?

Suddenly, as if Aegon had heard the question, he let go. Aerys released ragged gasps as his lungs filled with painful air. His body slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor like a sack of flour. Aegon backed away in a hurry, unable to look at Aerys slumped on the floor. Aerys watched as the man stared at his hands in horror. Aegon turned away, hurrying out of the room. It wasn’t until after he left that Aerys found Ser Otto and the dowager queen standing just a few feet away. Ser Otto glared at him before following his grandson. The dowager queen threw Aerys a pitiful glance before doing the same.

Aerys sputtered, struggling to catch his breath. He lay on his side, gently rocking himself back and forth. His mind was rattled, and he struggled to understand what had just occurred. He felt lightheaded, and the harder he tried to piece everything together, the worse it got. His eyes were growing heavy, and with each blink, he struggled to reopen them. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he imagined a woman, his mother- no, Rhaenyra, tossing a blanket over him. He could feel warm fingers softly running through his hair. A gentle hum filled the air, lulling him to sleep. Aerys could not tell if this was happening or if it was all a temporary illusion. Was he going mad? If so, he did not think he minded it.

Tags: @saicherry, @sadpuffpuff, @teamavatar13, @willow-red,

#aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x oc #fire and blood #hotd #hotd aegon #house of the dragon fanfic #king aegon #male!oc #targcest #king aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon the elder #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x oc

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: NSFW, dub-con, angst, mentions of sh scars

a/n: This chapter is very long, so I apologize for that. Also, there will be smut in the chapter. Smut has never been my strong suit, so I apologize for any and all cringe inaccuracies. No beta, so I apologize for any and all grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

The full moon sat high in the sky, covering everything below with a slight blue hue. Aerys returned to his chambers after he finished saying his goodbyes. His feet were growing tired of standing. His elbows ached from resting against the wooden windowsill. The wind blew his hair behind him. His eyes watched as the dark red liquid swirled around the glass in his hand. Aerys sighed as he leaned his head back. He closed his eyes, basking in the muffled sounds of the city.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice asked behind him.

Aerys stiffened, quickly turning his head to find the intruder. Aegon stood behind him, fiddling with his fingers.

“How did you get in here?”

“The door...?” Aegon tilted his head slightly to the side. “Sorry, I thought you heard me knock...”

Aerys cleared his throat, turning his whole body to face the prince. “Why are you here?”

The two grimaced at the tone in his voice. It was harsher than he meant it to be.

“I-” the prince cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize for what happened... at supper.”

The young lord stayed silent. His dark eyes glanced over the prince, his oldest friend who stood before him. It hurt... how distant they had become. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys’ reign when the princes Aemon and Baelon were children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. But they were no longer boys now. It seemed like they were no longer even friends. Just two strangers staring back at each other, mourning over their lost childhood.

“I don’t believe I’m the one you need to apologize to.”

Aegon dropped his eyes down at his black boots. “I know, but I still felt like I should. The way I acted was-”

“Disgraceful? Childish?” Aerys offered, raising his brows.

Aegon pursed his lips, nodding his head. “I suppose both of those would suffice.”

Aerys breathed deeply through his nose before walking towards the circular table in his room. He placed his glass on the table and reached for another, filling it with wine. Aerys lifted the new glass, holding it out for the prince to take. Aerys flinched when he felt Aegon’s skin graze against his fingers.

“Thank you,” the prince raised his glass.

“Should we sit?” Aerys asked, pointing to the table.

Aegon nodded, taking a seat at the opposite end. Aerys placed his glass on the table, shifting in his chair to get comfortable. A blanket of silence covered the room. They glanced at each other, eyes meeting only for a moment before they both turned their heads.

“What have-”

“How’s life-”

Both men paused, and their eyes widened slightly. They shared a glance before lowering their heads to chuckle.

“You go first,” Aerys said with a small smile.

Aegon nodded as he placed his glass on the table.

“I was simply going to ask how your life has been on Dragonstone.”

“Oh,” Aerys hummed, pondering the question. “Well, it’s not too thrilling. Just living day by day, I suppose.”

“Oh, come on,” Aegon scoffed. “Surely, you must have gotten into some trouble over the years.”

“No, I’ve never been much of a troublemaker.”

“What?! What about that time you pushed that woman into the garden fountain? What was her name... Elinda? Elenor?”

“Lady Elise Stokeworth,” Aerys mumbled.

“Yes! That’s it!” Aegon guffawed at the memory. “You pushed Lady Elise into one of the garden fountains at that party Father had thrown years ago.”

“That is not what happened,” Aerys grumbled.

“Oh, the look on your face after you did it! You were about to burst into tears.”

“It was your fault! You pushed me, and I bumped into her.” Aerys defended himself.

“Of course, blame me for your actions.” Aegon tsked, shaking his head with a disapproving smile.

“As I said, it was your fault.” Aerys shrugged, taking a sip of his wine.

Aegon looked at him and laughed. The prince raised his glass, bringing it up to his lips. Aerys’ dark eyes trailed down the prince’s face to his neck. His mouth watered as he watched the apple of his throat bob with each swallow. Aerys quickly cleared his throat and dropped his eyes to the table.

“So it’s safe to assume you’ve been getting into quite a bit of trouble here in the capital?”

“Enough for the both of us,” Aegon answered.

“I believe it,” Aerys snickered.

The prince leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

“So, has any special lady caught your eye?” Aegon questioned.

The question had caught Aerys by surprise.

“No,” Aerys scoffed, shaking his head. “Though not for the lack of trying. I’ve received many proposals over the years.”

“And you haven’t accepted any? Why?” Aegon leaned forward, sitting up straight.

“I don’t know,” Aerys shrugged. “Marriage just seems so... Enervating?”

Aerys felt his stomach churn at the woeful expression that fell on the prince. He had hoped that the marriage between Aegon and Helaena would prosper in his absence. That with him gone, Aegon could better himself.

“But pay no mind to my fatuous beliefs. I’m sure it’s not so bad.” Aerys smiled, hoping to ease some of the tension his words had caused.

The corners of Aegon’s lips turn upwards in a tight smile. The prince raised his glass to his mouth, finishing what wine remained. Aegon tapped his hands on the table before standing to his feet.

“Come on.” He smiled, holding a hand out for Aerys to hold.

“Where are we going?” Aerys tilted his head with a catlike curiosity.

“You’re one and twenty now. I wish to help you celebrate.”

“My name day was nearly two months ago.”

“Yes, well, I was unable to attend. I wish to rectify that. Now come on,” Aegon replied, shaking his hand.

Aerys stared at the prince’s hand apprehensively. He shouldn’t take it. He knows he shouldn’t. The last time he did, the night ended in nothing but misery. Yet when he glanced up to find that stupid little smile on the prince’s face, how could he resist? The short time they had spent here at this table, laughing like nothing had changed, filled Aerys’ heart with hope. It was a small childish hope, but a hope nonetheless.

“The hour is late. Perhaps it is best if I get some rest.”

The prince’s smile dropped for a moment before it was replaced with a sly smirk. “Surely you do not intend for me to journey off alone. How would you live with yourself if something happened to me? Something that you could have prevented if you came with me.”

The memory of the night Rhaenyra first left for Dragonstone came to mind. Aegon was using the exact words to weaken his resolve. Aerys raised his hand hesitantly. He curled his fingers slightly before releasing them, allowing the prince to grab his hand. His stomach fluttered as Aegon’s cold hand squeezed his own, pulling him behind him. Perhaps tonight could be the fresh start that they needed.

—

The city's streets seemed less pleasant than they had been years ago. Perhaps it was because his childlike wonderment was gone, replaced by a more mature worldview. Aegon stayed close to Aerys as they walked side by side. The city still smelled of smoke, wine, piss, and sex, just as he remembered.

“We’ll go this way,” Aegon nodded to the right, pulling Aerys down a dark, unfamiliar alleyway.

They walked through the alley before coming out to a different street that Aerys had no knowledge of. His grip tightened around Aegon’s hand as he tried to stay as close as possible. The hordes of people were more dispersed than they had been before. Groups of men clustered together as they drank and yelled crude remarks to the women who passed by. Other men were pulling women into their laps to paw at their breasts. Younger women and girls wore scandalous dresses and skirts that left little unseen. No mummers and musicians were performing on this street.

The thrill he had felt as a boy did not return to him now. As they turned the corner, an old man leaned against a stone wall, stroking himself for all to see. Aerys averted his gaze, instead focusing on the stone path ahead of them. The old man laughed, waving out his tongue as they passed. The sight was appalling. Suddenly, Aerys felt regret about his decision to join the prince.

The two finally came to a stop.

“What is this place?” Aerys asked, leaning closer to Aegon.

“I’m treating you to a night of fun. Just trust me. I come here all the time.”

Aerys turned his head, looking over the building. It was a simple stone structure, unlike the brothel they had visited before. It was a much smaller, cheaper-looking whore house. The blue paint on the wooden door was chipping, and a badly painted red lantern was hanging above it. The smell coming from this place was even worse. The scent of ale and human waste overwhelmed his poor nose. Why would Aegon wish to spend his time in a place like this?

Aerys took a few steps back, turning his head both ways to look at the street. Aegon cocked his head to the side as he turned around to face Aerys.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I think I should be getting back,” Aerys replied with a small smile, hoping his words would not anger the prince.

“What? We just got here.” The prince shook his head.

“I know, and I am sorry, but I would like to return now.”

Aegon’s brows knitted together, and his nostrils flared. He was angry, or at the very least annoyed. Aerys shifted on his feet uncomfortably as if he were a small child awaiting his punishment. This was stupid. He was stupid. Why had he agreed to come? Why does he always give in to him so easily? Aerys could feel his heart thudding in his chest. His fingers began to tremble. Quickly, he started fiddling with the ring on his little finger. The young lord lowered his eyes, unable to face the prince.

“Hey,” the prince called, taking Aerys’ hands into his own.

Anxiously, Aerys turned his gaze upward. Aegon’s eyes had softened, and he flashed Aerys a half-smile.

“We can go back. But... at least have another drink with me first. There’s a place not far from here.”

Aerys sighed and dropped his eyes again. “Aegon-”

“Please!” The prince pleaded.

Aerys winced slightly from how tight the prince's grip on his hands had become. Aegon muttered a soft apology as he pulled away. The sadness clouding his features made Aerys’ chest feel heavy and his throat tight.

“Just. . .one drink?” Aerys asked apprehensively.

The corners of the prince’s mouth turned upwards. His eyes brightened up like stars as he pulled Aerys along. Aerys struggled to keep up as Aegon dragged him down the street. They crossed two more alleys before loud cheering and laughter caught his attention. He could see they were making their way to an inn. A group of men sat outside of the inn’s doorway, toasting to something. It was a plain-looking two-story inn made of stone. Two black lanterns sat above the entrance, lighting up the front of the building.

Aerys sat at the bar inside the crowded inn. He fiddled with his ring while waiting for his companion to return with their drinks. Aegon pushed past two men, placing a large wooden cup before him. Aerys thanked him loudly before he took a drink. The taste nearly made him gag. Aegon laughed at the look of disgust on his face.

“What is that?”

“It’s beer. Not as good as the fine wine you’re used to, but it does the trick.” He laughed.

Men and women in the tavern began to shout as the music picked up. Aerys watched as couples began to dance. He jumped when a drunken man fell over, sending a table crashing down with him.

“Come on,” Aegon grabbed his hand, pulling him up from his seat.

“Where are we going?” Aerys asked as they slipped through the crowded inn.

“It’s too noisy down here. I got us a room,” Aegon explained as they started up the stairs.

—

The room was decent for a cheap inn. It was a simple square room. A bed was placed against the wall in the corner of the right side. Above the bed was a small window with bars on it. The floor was wooden, with no rug to cover it. There were no tapestries to decorate the boring stone walls. A small table with two chairs sat against the wall on the left side of the room. Two thick candles sat on the table for lighting.

Aerys paced back and forth, fiddling with the ring on his finger. He sighed before pulling it off and tucking it away in the hidden breast pocket of his cloak. The young lord stilled as the door swung open, but he calmed down once he saw that Aegon had returned. The prince had left him to fetch some wine.

“Sorry, I took so long. It’s quite rowdy down there.” Aegon smiled as he moved to place the large wineskin on the table.

Aerys watched as the prince poured the wine. He walked forward to accept the wooden goblet from the prince’s hand. Aerys took a sip, watching Aegon move to sit at the edge of the bed, kicking off his boots. The young lord quickly sat at the table, ignoring how Aegon patted the bed beside him. Aerys took slow sips of his wine. His mind began to cloud slightly from all he had consumed this evening. The two sat in silence. Only the muffled sounds of the crowd below them could be heard.

“Aerys?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember that day in the garden? When you fell asleep on my lap under the shade tree.”

Aerys' breath hitched as the memory popped into his mind. The same memory he had seen earlier before the petitions. He swirled his wine in the goblet, clearing his throat.

“I believe we spent many days like that.”

Aegon hummed with a content smile. “Yes, we did. How simpler things were then...”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say simple... we had problems then too.” Aerys shrugged, staring into the dark red liquid.

“We did,” the prince agreed. “But those problems were nothing but childish nonsense. I often find myself craving the benign problems of my youth.”

Aerys sighed. “I believe many people feel the same. What are the insignificant worries of children compared to the overwhelming plights of adulthood?”

“Well, you’re certainly as jovial as I remembered you to be.” The prince quipped, finishing the last of his wine.

The loud clacking echoed as his goblet fell to the floor. Aerys stilled as sniffling reached his ears. Nervously, he shifted his eyes to the prince. The man still sat at the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low.

“Aegon?” He called out softly.

The prince lifts his head to look at Aerys. His messy hair clings to his tear-stained face. Almost immediately, Aerys finds himself on his feet, moving to sit at Aegon’s side. He pushed the man’s hair away, tucking it behind the prince’s ears. Gently, he began wiping the tears off his face. The action only seemed to make the man cry even more. Aegon grabbed Aerys’ hands, pressing them against the sides of his face. The prince closed his eyes as he nuzzled into the young lord’s palms.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology makes Aerys freeze. His dark eyes trailed over every inch of the prince’s face. Aegon moves a hand to Aerys’ wrist and squeezes.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Aerys shook his head.

“No. I ruined everything.” Aegon cried.

“What are you-? No, Aegon, you didn’t-”

“I did. I ruined everything.” The prince whimpered.

Aerys wrapped his arms around him, pulling the crying man into his chest. Aegon quickly sank into Aerys’ embrace, wrapping his arms around the young lord as he released a sharp but shaky breath. Aerys didn’t know what he should say or if there was anything he could say to offer comfort. All he could do was hold him. All he could offer him was a warm embrace and a shoulder to cry on. Though from the way the prince shook and held on tighter, Aerys believed that was what he needed.

Aerys was confused about how it had all come to this. Everything had been fine, cordial. Maybe it was just the wine. Aegon pulled back with a shuddering breath. Aerys could see his eyes still filled with tears. The prince leaned forward, and Aerys did not move, allowing the man to press their foreheads together. Aegon placed his hands over Aerys’ knee.

Aerys could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and the painful sobs Aegon tried desperately to suppress. The air seemed so thick it made it difficult to breathe. The day and evening leading up to this moment seemed forgotten. The only thing echoing in his mind was the soft cries of his oldest friend. He moved one hand to cup Aegon’s cheek and used the other to smooth the prince’s hair down.

“Shhh- it’s alright,” He whispered, like a mother comforting her baby.

Aerys kissed the prince’s head before pressing his forehead against Aegon’s. Aerys peeks through his eyelashes to watch the prince. The dim candlelight made him look so tired.

“Aegon, look at me.”

It’s a command, but not a firm or demeaning one. Just calm and authoritative enough to make the prince obey. Aerys slid both hands onto Aegon’s face. The man’s sobs had turned to loud sniffles and painful-sounding hiccups. He used his thumbs to wipe away the dampened tear trails on Aegon’s cheeks. Aerys could smell the strong wine on the prince’s breath. He could feel the heat of his breath against his face.

Neither of them spoke. They simply stared at each other through dark lashes. Aerys ran his thumb across the prince's cheek. He felt one of Aegon’s hands grip onto his leg. The intensity of the prince’s gaze lit a fire in the pit of Aerys’ stomach.

Aerys wants to pull away. He knows he should. But when Aegon’s strong hand ran up and down his thigh, all logic began to flee from him.

“I’m so fucking tired of feeling like this...” Aegon mumbles tiredly.

“I know...” Aerys whispered.

Suddenly, Aegon is leaning closer. It takes only a second before their lips meet—Aerys stills, unsure what to do. On one hand, he knows he should push him away, but on the other, it’s more complicated. Aegon presses another kiss to Aerys’ lips before Aerys pulls away. Aerys winced as he swallowed the saliva, which was beginning to pool in his mouth. His hands dropped from the prince's face to his lap.

“Please,” Aegon begs. “Please.”

The prince leans forward, their lips softly grazing each other.

“We can’t,” Aerys whispered.

Aegon shook his head, leaning in the rest of the way. Aerys movements are stiff at first, as he tries to ignore the voice in his head telling him to stop. Aerys can feel his emotions battling it out inside of him—a mixture of anxiousness and arousal. The kiss continued. Aegon’s hands gripped tightly around Aerys’ waist, pulling him closer. Aerys tilted his head slightly to cave his tongue into the prince’s mouth. Quickly, it was becoming sloppy and desperate, but that made it more erotic.

Aerys could taste the wine lingering on the prince’s tongue. He finds the taste almost addicting. His hot tongue explores the prince’s mouth, and Aegon lets him in without protest. Coating each other with spit as Aerys feels the rough texture of Aegon's tongue against his own. Aegon’s hand trails down, placing itself over Aerys’ growing bulge. The young lord pulls back with a slight hiss. A string of saliva keeps them connected until Aerys swipes it away. Aegon tries to climb onto his lap, but Aerys presses a firm hand against his chest, keeping him at bay. The young lord uses his other hand to grip the prince’s wrist, pushing his hand away from his lap. A pitiful whine escapes the prince’s throat.

“Please,” he begs again. As if it’s the only word he can remember. “Please.”

Aegon’s eyes are welled with tears. His bottom lip trembled as he let go of what little dignity remained to him. Aerys turned his head, squeezing his eyes closed. He dropped his hands to his lap, releasing the prince’s wrist. This had to stop. They had gone far enough.

“We shouldn’t-” he began but was interrupted.

Aegon shifted onto his knees. His cold hands cupped Aerys’ face, using his body weight to push him on his back. Aerys fell back on the bed with a soft grunt.

“Aegon, I mean it-” Aerys brings his hands to the prince’s shoulders to keep some distance between their faces.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, kissing Aerys’ lips softly.

The prince swung his leg over Aerys' lower body, straddling him. His lips parted to speak, but no words came out. Aerys could feel panic beginning to course through him. They mustn’t. This is wrong.

“I-we can’t.” Aerys sputtered, trying to scoot up the bed.

He gasped as Aegon pressed his weight down on him. He was pressing himself against Aerys’ growing bulge. Aegon leaned down, peppering wet kisses up and down Aerys’ neck. His cold hands slide underneath the young lord’s tunic, slightly pushing it up. The warmth makes Aerys’ skin pimple with goosebumps. Aerys wants to push him away, but he finds himself unable to.

“Aegon,” he groans, feeling the prince’s teeth against his neck.

Aegon retracts his hands, placing them on the sides of Aerys’ head. The prince pulled back just enough so they could face each other. Their noses gently grazed each other.

“I need this Aerys. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Please, help me.” The prince begged, his eyes brimming with tears.

Aerys wanted to say no. He wished that he was strong enough to deny the prince- that he was strong enough to deny himself. But the tremble in Aegon’s voice, the heartbreak in his eyes, and the desperation on his face were enough to break the young lord’s resolve.

“Please,” Aegon whispers, “I need this. I need you.”

Aerys’ hand cups the back of the prince’s head, pulling him in for a tender kiss. It feels nice. It's so lovely that Aerys has no problem pushing away those negative thoughts creeping in, instead choosing to lose himself in the prince’s touch.

Aerys pushes himself up, sitting the two of them upright. Aegon giggles, a blissful smile covering his face. Aerys leaned forward, peppering kisses along the prince’s jaw and neck. Aegon whimpered, tilting his head to the side. His hand tangled itself in Aerys' hair, holding his head close. Aerys fingers begin deftly untying the laces on the front of Aegon’s tunic. They pulled back long enough for Aerys to pull it over the prince’s head and toss it over his shoulder. Then they're at it again. Aerys pressed sloppy kisses against the prince's neck and shoulders.

His palms gripped Aegon’s hips, which were erratically pressing themselves against his, desperately chasing after some friction to ease the ache between his legs.

“‘m sorry,” he whines, “need to feel you against me.”

Aegon lowers his head, hiding in the side of Aerys’ neck. Aerys hissed, his nails digging into the prince’s skin, trying to slow Aegon’s movement. His cock was straining against his trousers, begging to be released.

“Please, I- mmn,” Aegon whispers, at a loss for words.

“Say it,” Aerys said. The commanding tone in his voice leaves no room for the prince to object. Not that Aerys believed he would.

“I want you.”

The reply isn’t good enough. Aerys lifts his hand, taking the prince’s chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Aegon, look at me.”

Once again, it’s a command, calm and authoritative enough to make the prince obey. His eyes flutter open, and Aerys can see they are glossed over with lust and desire. His hips struggle against Aerys' remaining hand, trying to move faster, but Aerys manages to keep his pace slow and steady.

“Say it again.”

“I want you.”

“How?”

Aegon whines, a pitiful pout forming on his lips. “Aerys, I want you to fuck me.”

The words are crude, but they set the pit of Aerys’ stomach ablaze. Aerys holds Aegon close before rolling them over. The prince lands on his back with a soft laugh, a blissful smile covering his face. He pulls Aerys close for another kiss. Aerys’ fingers unlace the prince’s trousers. He can feel the man’s hard cock throbbing against his palm. Aegon holds the side of the young lord's neck, hissing as Aerys’ hand grazed his aching bulge. Aerys stands to his feet, and Aegon lifts his hips so the man can pull his trousers down. Aerys drops them to the ground. His breath hitched, and his mouth watered as he watched Aegon's cock pulse against his lower stomach, desperate for some relief. Aerys follows suit, ridding himself of his own restricting clothing.

“There’s a vial in my pocket. Grab it, will you?” The prince points behind Aerys.

Aerys nods, reaching down to retrieve the vial. He inspects the glass vial, which is full of golden-yellow liquid, as he pulls it out.

“Oil?”

The prince nodded in confirmation. “It makes it easier.”

Aerys nods, climbing onto the bed. Aegon spreads his legs wider so that Aerys can slide between them. Aerys sat on his knees, breaking the seal of the vial. Aegon lifted his head, watching as Aerys coated his cock with the oil. Aerys gave himself a few strokes, properly coating his cock. His hips bucked against his touch. His body was glad to be touched finally. Aerys let out an amused snort as the prince’s eyes stayed glued to his hands.

“Shut up,” Aegon scorned.

Aerys gives no reply. He tilts the vial, letting some oil drip down to the prince’s hole. Aegon shivers, and the hair on his skin rises.

“Cold?” Aerys asked.

“A bit,” Aegon nods.

“Sorry,” Aerys apologizes, even though it’s not his fault.

“Just get inside me already.”

Aerys stopped, his head tilting in confusion.

“Don’t you need to be prepared first?” He asked, nodding towards the prince's bottom.

“I don’t care, just do it.” Aegon groans, trying to push himself on Aerys’ cock.

Aerys ignores his words, using a finger to work the oil into the prince’s hole.

“Fuck, fuck,” The prince cries out.

Aerys’ index finger circles around the puckered entrance. He used the oil to help coax his finger inside. The muscles clenched as he worked his way inside.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Aegon hisses.

Aerys freezes, unsure if he has done something wrong.

“Keep going,” Aegon groaned.

He continued his work until he could fit three fingers in with ease. Aerys retracted his hand. Aegon writhed beneath him, whimpering. Aerys lifts the prince’s legs before lining himself up.

“Please,” Aegon whines, pressing down on Aerys’ cock.

“Are you sure?” Aerys asks, any playfulness gone from his voice. He needed to know that Aegon was sure if they were going further.

“Mhm,” the prince nodded.

He’s tight, but the work Aerys has put in makes it easier. They both groan as Aerys sinks his cock deeper. Aegon’s eyes are clamped shut, his mouth open wide, as his sinful noises echo in the air.

Aerys kisses the prince’s neck, his tongue gliding down to his collarbones. He hears Aegon take a deep breath through his nose.

“I’ve missed you,” Aerys whispers into the man’s skin.

Aegon mewls at the confession. Aerys continues, planting butterfly kisses across the man’s chest.

“I’ve missed your smile.”

The prince arches his back against Aerys' touch. Aegon’s head was thrown back, his brows pinched, and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hip bucked underneath Aerys’ weight.

“I’ve missed your voice.”

Aegon gasps so deliciously, his back arching deeper than before. The tip of his cock looked swollen and red, begging to be relieved. Aerys swiped his thumb over the tip, smearing the leaking precum along the shaft. Aegon yelps and shivers, his hips bucking against Aerys’. The man runs his fingers along the veins of his cock, from the tip to the base.

“Aerys, please!” He moans.

Aerys peers at him through dark eyelashes, amazed by the sight before him. How could a man so beautiful, so ethereal, be spread out before him like this- allowing him to touch him in such a way?

“Gods!” Aegon hissed through gritted teeth. “It-it’s too much,” the prince gasps. “Fuck!”

“Shh,” Aerys cooed, his fingers gripping tighter on the man’s cock. “I’ve got you.”

With a low groan and stuttering hips, Aegon releases. Coating Aerys’ hand with hot cum. For a moment, the prince is nothing more than a flushed, babbling mess. Aerys gives him a moment to breathe.

“That’s it, you’re doing good,” Aerys praises, smiling when Aegon responds with a choked gasp, his face growing red.

Aerys releases a shuddered breath as he sinks deeper. The feeling is overwhelming. Aerys’ body tenses, his nails dig into the prince’s hips, holding him in place as his warmth squeezes around Aerys’ throbbing cock. Aerys struggles to hold out, not wanting to reach his peak so soon. Aegon’s hands grab Aerys’ arms, fingernails digging into his skin. Aerys could hear his breathing stop almost completely.

“Breathe, Aegon,” he commands, “in and out. That’s it.” He praises as he watches the prince's chest move up and down.

“I’m gonna move now,” Aerys whispers before rolling his hips.

Aegon whines, one of his hands sneaking up to the back of Aerys’ neck, pulling his body closer. Aerys allows it, pressing his upper body against Aegons. He can feel Aegon’s cock rubbing against his stomach.

“Fuck,” Aerys whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You don’t have to s-say things like that.” The prince sputtered, grinding against Aerys’ cock.

“I want to. I mean it.”

Before the prince could speak, Aerys rolled his hips again, using the man’s body earnestly. Sweat started to bead on his forehead. There’s a fierce look of concentration on Aegon’s face as he tries to meet the man’s thrusts. The lewd sound of Aegon’s ass slapping against Aerys’ thigh echoed in the air. Aerys leans his face down, peppering soft kisses on the prince’s cheek. Aegon’s hand guides his head, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and wet. Their hot tongues coated each other with spit. Aerys rested his hands on both sides of the prince’s head, using them to hold himself up so he wouldn’t put too much weight on Aegon. However, the prince did not seem to appreciate his efforts.

Aegon hooked his legs around the man’s waist. His strong arms wrapped around Aerys’ shoulders, pulling him closer so their chests were pressed against each other. Aerys dropped onto his elbows, his hips moving faster, eager to find his release. He pulled away with a gasp; his lungs burned, desperate for air. Aerys buries himself into the crook of the prince’s neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

“Gods, I love you, ” Aerys whispers.

He stills as he feels a wetness connecting with his ear. Aerys raises his head slightly, enough to see Aegon’s eyes rolled back, his cheeks puffy and stained with tears. Aerys feels his balls tighten, but he slows his pace.

“No!” The prince whimpered. “Keep going, please!”

His fingers grip Aerys’ waist, and the heels of his feet dig into the flesh of Aerys’ ass.

“ahh fuck,” Aerys moaned.

“F-fuck,” Aegon moaned out with him.

Aerys pressed wet kisses to Aegon’s cheek, enjoying the salty taste of his tears mixing with his sweat. Aerys wanted more of him. No, he needed more of him.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Aerys groans, his hips pounding relentlessly into the prince’s stretched hole.

Aegon’s hands cup the sides of Aerys’ face, pressing their foreheads together. Once more, they stare at each other through dark lashes. Aerys' long hair fell forward, blocking them from the world around them. It was only them. They were all that mattered.

The prince's eyes are burning with lust and need.

“You’re mine, Aerys.” Aegon huffs. “Mine.” He smiles triumphantly.

Aerys says nothing, putting all his energy into his thrusts.

“Say it.”

Aerys can hear the jealousy in his voice.

“I’m yours,” he reassures, blinded by his pleasure.

Aegon hums, pleased with his answer. The prince knits his brows together as he grinds his hips down against Aerys’ cock. Aerys’ nails dug into the prince’s hips, holding them up slightly as he thrusts. His hips jerked forward wildly as he emptied himself inside of Aegon. The prince followed suit, this time spilling his cum against Aerys’ stomach.

The two lay there, boneless. Their heavy breath was hot against each other's faces. Aerys carefully pulled himself from the prince’s abused hole. Aegon hissed, his nail digging into the man’s skin. They shared another kiss. This one was sweet and slow. Neither of them had the energy to kiss each other with the vigor they had before. Aerys pulled back, pressing a soft kiss on the prince’s head before rolling off him. His back hit the thin blanket, and his arms rested on his heaving chest. Aerys turns his head to find Aegon staring at him. The two stare into each other's eyes before breathing a shared laugh.

Aerys groaned, sitting himself up. He moved to the small table, grabbing his goblet. Aegon scooted up the bed, resting on the nearly flat feather pillow. Aerys took a sip of wine before handing it off to Aegon.

“You should probably be drinking water, but I’m afraid this is all we’ve got.”

“How dreadful,” Aegon smirked, taking the goblet in hand.

When the man is done with the goblet, Aerys retrieves it and sets it back on the table before pulling on his trousers.

“Are you leaving?” Aegon asked.

“We should get back to the castle, should we not?”

The prince shakes his head. “We should rest for a bit.”

Aerys shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“Besides, I’m not sure I’m up for much walking right now.” The prince teased.

Aerys felt the heat rise in his face. He dropped his gaze to his feet. Aegon patted the bed beside him. Aerys climbed back into the bed. They pulled back the blanket, crawling under it. The prince decided to lay on Aerys, his head on his chest and his arms curled around his sides. Softening under his touch, Aerys wraps his arms around his prince. One of his hands toyed with Aegon’s hair, patting down the messy locks that tickled his face.

Aerys was content, happy even. Happier than he had been in years. Yet the knowledge that this night would come to an end began gnawing at his mind. He shook his head. His impending guilt and shame would have to wait.

Dark shadows blanketed the walls of the room. The light nearly snuffed out as the candles burned dangerously low, and every now and then, random sounds of wood creaking would echo through the air. As Aerys took a deep breath, his nose was filled with the mixture of both their scents. It filled his chest with a deep sense of peace and calmness. He was content.

Aerys tensed as he felt Aegon trail his fingers across the rows of scars that now marred his stomach. There were so many now that it was obvious where they had come from.

“Do you still do it?” The prince questioned quietly.

“No,” he answered through gritted teeth.

He felt the prince nod against his skin.

“How are you feeling?” Aerys asked, running his hand up and down Aegon's back, hoping desperately that the prince would move on.

“A bit sore.” The prince sighed, raising his head to look up at Aerys.

Aerys' face must have held a worried expression because the prince quickly shook his head.

“You make love like a woman,” Aegon quipped.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I liked it.” The prince smiled, nuzzling into Aerys’ chest.

The young lord had lost track of how long they had been lying here. They had both dozed off shortly after they coupled. When he awoke, he found Aegon still curled up in his arms, tracing the lines on his stomach with his finger.

“You know. . .” The prince chuckled. “I used to imagine this very moment.”

Aerys kept his chin resting on the top of Aegon’s head. His hands stilled, slightly loosening his grip on the prince’s arm. Aerys swallowed the spit pooling in his mouth. He winced as it went down his throat harsher than expected. It seemed his emotions were tired of waiting. The weight of what they had done was creeping onto his shoulders. Guilt and shame were beginning to spread through his chest like pesky weeds.

“That night you left was awful, but the morning was even worse. When I woke up, the first thing I wanted to do was seek you out. Then I remembered you were gone.”

There was a slight tremble in his voice as he spoke. Aerys wasn’t used to this, talking after sex. Usually, the whores would happily take his money and wave gleefully as he left. Shouting for him to come again. But this was different. The air that had comforted him felt almost suffocating now.

“Perhaps we should head back now,” he suggested, ignoring the prince’s confession.

The man pushed the prince back slightly, just enough to crawl out from under him. Aerys bent down, pulling on his socks and boots. He could feel Aegon’s eyes burning into his back. He stood to his feet, reaching to the ground to grab his discarded tunic. His skin itched. The need to be cleansed gnawed at him. He wanted to return to the castle to scrub himself clean.

“Did I do something wrong?” Aegon asked timidly.

Aerys turned his head to look at him. That was a mistake. The prince’s brows were pinched together, and his lips were turned into a sad little frown. His eyes welled up with tears.

Aerys shrugged the tunic over his head and shoulders. He shook his head. “No, of course not.”

“Aerys, I'm sorry if it’s about what I said. I understand why you left-”

“It’s not about that Aegon.” The young lord sighed. “Look, can we just. . . go back to the castle?”

“Will you tell me what I’ve done?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Aerys shrugged.

“Then why are you being this way?!” The prince asked, raising his voice.

Aerys stopped, his eyes narrowing at the prince. He turned with a slight scoff, bending down to fetch his cloak. Quickly, his fingers tied the laces around his neck.

“Wait, wait!” Aegon pleaded, jumping up from the bed.

Aerys moved to take his leave. Aegon quickly stepped in front of him, grabbing him by his forearms. He moved one hand to cup Aerys’ face. The touch sends a shiver down his spine.

“I’m sorry, alright? Let's just go back to bed.”

“Aegon,” Aerys sighed, pulling his face back. “I need to get back to the castle.”

“Everyone is still sleeping, there’s no need to rush-”

“Why must I beg you?” Aerys sneered. “If you will not return with me, then at least let me go on my own.”

The prince dropped his hands to his sides. Aerys watched as his face hardened.

“Why must you beg me?” He snickered. “It is I who should be asking that question. Why must I beg you to stay at my side? Why do you insist on resisting me as if I am some sort of plague?”

“You know why.”

Aegon scoffed loudly. “Because you are a coward. A sad little boy who runs away at the first sign of adversity.”

Aerys' jaw clenched in anger. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Are you finished?” He gritted his teeth.

The prince’s face softened, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Do you think I want to feel this way for you?” Aegon’s voice is low. His lips trembled as he fought back tears.

Aerys shifted his weight between his feet. His breath hitched in his throat, and his blood pumped loudly in his ears.

“Aegon-”

“You don’t think I want to be a better man? You don’t think I want to be the good, honorable man that you’ve always believed I could be?”

“Aegon-“

“I love you, Aerys! You are the love of my life, and it kills me that I cannot be with you. It kills me that you continue to run away from me. I don’t know who I am without you. I’ve spent the past five years waiting for you. I would watch the skies day and night praying to any god that would listen to bring you back to me.”

Aerys looked down in shame, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

“The first two weeks after you left, I couldn’t eat. I could hardly sleep. I spent my time drinking and whoring, doing anything I could to free myself from these chains you have wrapped around my heart.”

Aegon waved his hands out to the side before dropping them, letting them smack against his legs. His tears flowed freely as he began to sob. He wiped his eyes, breathing in before he continued.

“None of it worked. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was you. My every thought, my every dream, my every wish. . .It’s all you.”

Aerys’ own eyes burned with tears. He swallows the thick lump of sadness in his throat. The young lord prays to the gods to strike him down now. Death would be kinder than this aching pain in his chest.

“You think I want to be in this position? That I wouldn’t give up everything to be able to escape all of this and run away with you?!”

“Aegon, please. . .” Aerys begs, unable to hear anymore.

“I thought we were past this?” Aegon whispers. “You- you kissed me. You made love to me. You told me you love me-”

“Words spoken in the heat of the moment,” Aerys shook his head. “I did not expect you to take them to heart.”

Aegon scoffed, taking a step back. “So it meant nothing to you?”

“Of course it did!” Aerys scrunched his face in frustration. “Aegon, nothing has changed. You’re married, you-”

“None of that matters! Say the word, and I will leave it all behind.” The prince moved closer, taking Aerys’ hands into his own. “I asked you once, years ago. To leave this place with me. The offer still stands. We could go and disappear from all of this. We could do whatever we want. We’d drink the rarest of wines, dine on the finest foods, and be free to be with each other. We could leave all of this behind.”

A small, pitiful smile spreads across the prince’s face. His eyes gleam with hope. A deep silence took over the room as Aerys searched the man’s face for anything to tell him that the man wasn’t serious. But he found nothing. The prince meant every word.

“You talk of wanting to be an honorable man, yet now you speak of running away? Of abandoning your family?” Aerys shook his head in disbelief.

The prince’s smile dropped. His face contorted in a mixture of pain and shock. Aerys pulled his hands free from the prince’s grasp.

“This was a mistake,” he whispered, brushing past Aegon to the door.

He slammed it shut behind him, quickly rushing to the end of the hall and descending the stairs. His eyes welled with tears, almost blinding him. They fell as he attempted to blink them away. The inn had settled down a bit but was still crowded. Aerys slipped through the crowd, desperately trying to get outside. He needed air to free him from the invisible hand squeezing his throat. He needed to feel the cold breeze of the night sky against his skin.

The young lord stumbled out of the building, nearly falling to his knees on the cold cobblestone street. His head turned left and right, unfamiliar with his surroundings. In the end, he chose to head right, walking as fast as his legs could go.

—

The castle was quiet, eerily quiet. Aerys had finally made his way back to the red keep. It took some time, but he found his way. He had felt guilty for abandoning Aegon, but he quickly reassured himself that the prince would be fine. He had been venturing out into the city since he was old enough to do so. Aerys stripped himself of his clothes, leaving them piled on the floor. Cold water droplets trickled down his skin as he scrubbed himself with a wet rag. Aerys did not wish to trouble the maids with preparing a bath at this hour. So he settled for a simple bowl of cold water and a washcloth. The hair on his body stood up as the chilly night air poured into the room.

He hissed as the drenched rag moved over his groin. The lord stared at the stone wall, keeping his own body out of view of the mirror. He could not bear to look at himself.

The night's events replayed in his head over and over again. He had been so stupid, so weak. Once again, history seemed to be repeating itself. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He could still feel the prince’s hands on his skin. The way his fingernails dug into the skin of his arms. The most troubling part wasn’t that it happened, but that Aerys enjoyed it. He wanted more.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

He dropped the rag back into the bowl. Aerys went to his bed, not bothering to dry his skin. He needed to stop thinking. The man slipped under the covers and curled up into a ball. Sleep, he needed to sleep.

—

The sound of loud footsteps awoke Aerys from his slumber. He lifted his head from the soft pillows beneath him. Loud voices and equally loud footsteps echoed from behind the door. Aerys moved onto his feet, quickly shuffling around the room to dress himself. He attempted to wipe the sleepiness away from his eyes as he walked to the door. He grasped the doorknob, trying to open the door, but it would not budge. Aerys placed both hands on the doorknob, fidgeting with it. Was it locked? He began to pound his palm against the door.

“What is the meaning of this?”

There was no reply. Aerys used one hand to jiggle the doorknob and the other to beat against the door. The footsteps and chatter began to fade away. Aerys moved to the bell beside his bed to call for a maid. He rang several times before he dropped his hand with a deep groan.

“Fuck. . .” He murmured.

His head was pounding, most likely from all the wine he had consumed the night before. Aerys moved to the window, pushing open the wooden shutters. Down below, all he could see was the empty gardens. The sky was beginning to lighten, and the birds were starting to sing their songs. Though the cold chill of morning still hung heavily in the air. What in the seven hells was happening? Aerys scrunched his eyes closed. None of this was helping his headache. The man moved back over to the door, attempting to pull it open again.

“I demand to know what is happening! I demand an audience with the king!”

Once again, he received no response. Aerys continued to fiddle with the doorknob, but after minutes of no results, he stopped. The man pressed his head against the cold door. Why was this happening? He racked his brain, trying desperately to come up with an explanation. Surely, his grandsire would never allow this to happen. To be treated like some sort of prisoner in his family's house. Unless. . . His blood ran cold. Did he know? Had his grandsire found out what he had done? How he had disgraced himself, how he had defiled the prince.

Aegon.

Aerys' chest began to ache as the man came to his mind. How did everything go so wrong so quickly? It was him. There was no one Aerys could blame but himself. No, Aerys was as willing a participant as Aegon was. He could have left, but he didn’t. The man was weak and had given in to sin. He had allowed himself to give in to his lust and depravity. Therefore, he must take whatever punishment awaited him. Aerys knew his grandsire could be easily persuaded. It wouldn’t take much for him to convince his grandsire of his innocence, but Aerys would do no such thing.

He deserved to be punished. If what he had done were to get out, it would disgrace both of his houses. Aerys was disgusted with himself. No, he had to be punished. The man moved over to his wardrobe, quickly disposing of his simple black robe. He had to get ready. No doubt the king would send for him soon. The morning bells from the sept had begun to ring. Aerys could hear them in the distance. For a moment, he debated whether to pray to the gods for forgiveness or mercy, but he decided against it. He deserves neither of those things. The man had made his bed.

—

Aerys stared down at the ring on his finger. His eyes trailed over every inch of his mother’s enameled face. Would she hate him? Is she looking down on him in shame or disgust? It pained him to think of it. He was grateful she wasn’t around to see this. She deserved better than this pitiful excuse for a son.

The sound of the door unlocking caught his attention. He raised his head, quickly rising to his feet. Finally, he had been waiting for hours. The sky was so dark it almost looked black. Aerys clenched his hands into fists as he watched Queen Alicent enter the room. She stopped just a few feet away from him, her hands clasped together tightly.

Her eyes were slightly puffy and red, as though she had been crying not too long ago. The room was quiet, too quiet for Aerys’ liking. The queen avoided his eyes for a moment before clearing her throat. Aerys could feel his hands becoming clammy. He could feel his stomach tighten up, bile rising in his throat. Blood pounded in his ears. Fingernails dug into the palms of his hands as he struggled to breathe. Aerys clenched his jaw, ready for whatever she would throw at him.

“The king is dead.”

The man froze. He had not been prepared for this at all. Aerys furrowed his brows, scrunching his face in disbelief. No, this could not be. He thought they would have more time.

“How?”

“In his sleep, there was no pain.”

His eyes welled with tears. The man nodded his head in understanding, quickly blinking away his tears. Aerys dropped his head to stare at his boots. This was all so sudden. He had never imagined that last night would be the last time he saw his grandfather. His mind drifted towards Rhaenyra. How saddened she will be when she hears the news. They both knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The man shifted back and forth on his heels. His mind started to race, confusion and grief clouding his thoughts. The king had died peacefully in his sleep. So why would they have to lock him up in his bedchamber?

Aerys felt his heart stop. Suddenly, it was all becoming clear. The king was dead, and Rhaenyra was on Dragonstone. Far away from the throne. It would take a day or two for the news to reach her by raven. That would be all the time they needed.

He raised his head, eyes narrowing at the Queen. His hands clenched into fists once again.

“You’re usurping the throne.”

“It was the king's dying wish-”

Aerys scoffed, “I’m sure.”

“Believe me or not, it is of no consequence.”

Aerys hummed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And tell me, who else was there to corroborate this claim?”

“No one.” She pursed her lips, fiddling with her fingernails.

Aerys chuckled dubiously. He turned away, leaving the queen to stare at the back of his head. His heart was racing, though with anger instead of fear or sadness this time. She’s lying. She had to be. Aerys would not believe for a second that his grandsire had wavered on his decision to name Rhaenyra his heir, especially on his deathbed with no other witness other than his wife, who has been vying for her son to be placed on the throne for years.

“Does Aegon know of this?” He asked, his voice shaking, afraid of the answer.

“That is not important.”

He could hear the woman shuffle her feet from behind him. Aerys sighed heavily, spinning around on his heel. Queen Alicent avoided his gaze for a moment. Her dark eyes trailed every corner of the room before meeting his own.

“Do you truly hate her so much?”

The woman stilled, her eyes widened at the question.

Her head tilted slightly to the side. “What?”

“Rhaenyra,” he clarified.

Tears began to fill her eyes, though she tried to blink them away. She shuffled back and forth on her feet, her hands clenched tightly.

“She told me the two of you used to be friends, close friends. You went everywhere together, did everything together, and shared your secrets. Now you’re stealing her throne and putting her to the sword.”

“I have no intentions of-”

“Of executing her?” A deep scowl covered his face. “Surely you cannot be that naive.”

“I intend to send peace terms-”

Aerys scoffed loudly, his anger rising inside his chest. “Peace terms.”

“If she agrees-”

“If she agrees, then what? Then, she and her children will be allowed to live in peace? If you intend to start a war, you should at least approach it with some pragmatism.” He spat, his words laced with venom.

“That is why I am here, Aerys.” The queen walked forward, taking the man’s hands into her own.

Aerys stiffened, and his lip curled in disgust. The queen ignored it, gripping his hands tightly.

“I came here to ask for your support. You are the only child of her sister, the princess Naerys. Rhaenyra has cared for you since you were a boy. She trusts you; she listens to you. I do not believe she would do anything to jeopardize your safety. Perhaps together, we could convince her to bend the knee.” She reasoned, with a pleading look in her eyes.

Aerys rolled his eyes, pulling his hands away and dropping them to his sides.

“So that’s what this is. You intend to use me as a hostage to keep her in line?!”

“I would like you to join our cause and accept Aegon as your king,” she sighed. “The two of you have always been close. Ever since you were boys, the two of you were inseparable. And I believe your. . . fondness for him has not lessened over the years. As I know, his has not lessened for you.”

Aerys felt his mouth run dry. The time has come. The time he had been dreading his entire life. Since he was old enough to understand the difference between a son and a daughter in this world, he would have to choose. The thought filled his stomach with dread. He could feel the bile beginning to rise in his throat. Surely, Aegon had not agreed to this. He had said it more times than Aerys could count. He had no wish to rule. He had no desire for the iron throne.

And Rhaenyra. Did they believe the woman would bend the knee? Of course not; that would be foolish. They would have no choice but to kill her before she could call her banners.

Aerys cared for Aegon. He truly did. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he loved him. More than he should have. But was that enough to make him betray the woman who had raised him? Even if, by some miracle, Rhaenyra was spared, her children would not be. There would be no way they would be able to coexist. War would ensue. If not now, perhaps in a few years, but it would happen. Of that, Aerys had no doubt. Aerys closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. He turned around, leaving the queen to face his back once again. His fist clenched together, nails digging into the palms of his hands.

The woman sighed deeply.

“If war ensues, many will die, Aerys. Please consider it.”

No more words were spoken as she finally took her leave. The door slammed shut behind her. Aerys listened as her footsteps receded from the room and the door locked shut behind her. The second she was gone, he ran to the table, emptying the contents of his stomach into a bowl until nothing was left. When he was done, the man let his body slump onto the wooden chair at the table. The aching pain in his head had returned, even stronger than before. His eyes trailed down to the ring on his finger. Tears he had been struggling to deny now slid down his face freely.

He didn’t want this; he didn’t want any of this. Aerys did not want to choose between the two people in the world who meant the most to him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, before burying his face in his hands—a sorrowful attempt to drown out his sobs.

Tags: @teamavatar13, @saicherry, @willow-red, @sadpuffpuff

#aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x oc #fire and blood #hotd #hotd aegon #house of the dragon fanfic #king aegon #male!oc #targcest #house of the dragon #house targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon the second #aegon targaryen #king aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Seven

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

a/n: This chapter begins with a small flashback that occurs before the events of episode six and chapter one. (Also, in case anyone is interested, Cody Fern, in his role as Michael Langdon, is what I envision Aerys to look like. I had someone ask me this recently, so I thought I would just share it with everyone else.) No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

The smell of flowers and wet dirt filled the air. Aerys arched his back and raised his arms, stretching his stiff limbs. Ser Criston had been more intense with their training today. But the freshly cut grass helped soften the ground beneath his back.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Aegon jests, bouncing the leg that Aerys was using as a headrest.

Aerys peeked open his eyes to glare at the Targaryen prince. He readjusted his head, closing his eyes to listen to the world around them. Birds chirped as they flew overhead. The leaves of the giant weirwood tree that shielded them from the sun rustled gently. The sun sat high up in the sky, but a cool breeze in the air made the heat bearable.

“Open,” Aegon ordered, pressing something cold against Aerys’ lips.

Aerys pulled his head back, observing the cold purple object.

“It’s just a grape, no need to panic.” Aegon snickered.

Aerys parted his lips, allowing Aegon to drop the purple grape in his mouth. There was a quiet squelch as his teeth bit into the fruit. The sweetness of the grape juice overwhelmed his taste buds. Aerys let out a soft hum as Aegon ran his fingers through his hair.

“You’re going to put me back to sleep,” Aerys mumbled.

A playful smile tugs at the prince’s lips. “Well, it was not I who insisted you stay up all night reading.”

“It was not intentional,” Aerys glared. “The time just slipped away from me.”

“Honestly, Aerys, how irresponsible.” Aegon tsked, shaking his head like a disapproving mother.

Aerys raised his hand, pinching the prince on his side.

“You twat!” Aegon yelped, rubbing his side.

Aegon raised his hand, winding it up to deliver a sharp slap of retaliation. Aerys giggled, quickly sitting up to avoid the prince’s oncoming attack. Aegon missed, slapping his leg. The prince lunged at him, sending them both to the ground. Aerys fell to the ground with a loud grunt as Aegon landed on his stomach, but he quickly recovered. He reached out to pinch the prince’s side again. Aegon hissed and pulled back slightly. Aerys used this time to roll the two of them over. A smug smile tugged at his lips as he pinned Aegon to the grass. Aegon laughed, wriggling beneath him.

“Mercy! Mercy!” The prince yelled. A playful pout stretched across his lips.

Aerys released his grip on Aegon, rolling over. He landed on the ground beside him. The two boys lay there momentarily, staring up at the tree leaves as they caught their breath. They turned their heads to face each other, glaring at each other before laughing. Aegon intertwined their fingers.

“I won,” Aerys teased.

“You cheated,” Aegon huffed.

Aerys smiled, squeezing the prince’s hand.

—

Aerys flinched when he felt the hand fall on his shoulder. He turned his head to find Ser Darklyn standing by his side.

“The petitions are being heard now, my lord.”

Aerys nodded, moving to follow the knight to the throne room. He turned his head to look back at the garden. The two boys under the tree had faded away in his mind. That was an old memory. One that he had seemingly been able to forget until now. It was long before everything had fallen apart. Before Nyra left for Dragonstone, before Ser Laenor died, before the brothel, he hung his head as he walked through the castle. He followed behind a few lords and ladies, though he did not bother to see who they were. Aerys' eyes landed on the queen's children first. He quickly turned his gaze, trying to ignore the feeling of Aegon's eyes burning into him the second he entered the room. His face burned with shame as the memory of last night came to mind.

Aerys decided to stand behind Luke. He placed a comforting hand on the young Velaryon boy's shoulder, showing his support. Luke turned his head, flashing him a small smile, though it did not match the troubled look in his eyes.

“As hand of the king, I speak with the king’s voice. On this and all other matters.” Ser Otto called as he planted his rump on the iron throne.

Aerys had to stop himself from snickering. The iron throne once sat Aegon the Conqueror himself. Now, it was holding this serpent. He hoped it would cut him, reject the unworthy fool for daring to sit upon it.

Aerys stood quietly as the hand called upon Ser Vaemond to speak. He rolled his eyes as the man began to drone on about the history of House Velaryon. He had not realized he had come all this way for a history lesson. It didn’t take long before Nyra interrupted the man’s speech, her temper getting the better of her.

“As does it in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself- and for your own ambition.”

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.” Queen Alicent replied, silencing the princess.

Aerys shifted uncomfortably. He could feel the tension between the two sides rising. It reminded him too much of the night of Lady Laena’s funeral. A night he did not look back on fondly.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the survival of my house, not yours.”

The Targaryen princess had no response to the Velaryon man’s insults. It was a complicated situation. Aerys found himself a bit conflicted. With the only son of Lord Corlys being gone, Driftmark will pass on to Luke when the sea snake dies. The enmity between Vaemond Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra had grown over the years, especially after the unexpected passing of Ser Laenor. The man held no love for the princess or her sons. A part of Aerys understood where the man was coming from. He loved Luke; truly, he did. But the boy was only a Velaryon by name.

It is not Luke’s fault. He did not get to choose who had fathered him. Aerys felt sorry for the boy for being forced into this position. Even if Ser Vaemond did not get the Driftwood throne, coming to court to question the boy’s legitimacy would be humiliating enough for Luke. People still whispered about the boy’s parentage all over the realm. They were a bit more hush-hush about it, but even on Dragonstone, the people liked to whisper.

On the other hand, he disagreed with the man. Lord Corlys had no issue with the boys. He accepted them. Aerys knew Lord Corlys and his brother hardly ever saw eye to eye. The sea snake wasn’t even dead, yet here was Ser Vaemond trying to claim the driftwood throne. Was it concern for his house’s future that drove him? Or was it the man’s own ambition, as Nyra had said? Vaemond was only a second son who stood to inherit almost nothing—constantly standing in the shadow of his elder brother and his many accomplishments. Who knows how long he’s been coveting for his brother's seat?

Besides, Luke’s children and future heir will be of Velaryon descent, as Nyra and Daemon intended for him to marry Rhaena, Lord Corlys’ granddaughter. So, the Velaryon bloodline would continue.

A loud scoff had passed Aerys lips before he realized it, as Ser Vaemond humbly put himself forth as Lord Corlys successor. He heard the whispers all around as people began to stare at him. The hand shot a glare his way before moving on. Aerys’ eyes flickered to the prince, who stared at him with a slight smirk. Aerys quickly turned his eyes forward.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Otto announced.

Rhaenyra stepped forward with an exasperated sigh. “If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very-”

The loud groaning of the throne room doors opening caught everyone's attention. As the king huddled into the throne room, Aerys watched, just as shocked as everyone else. He seemed so small, so weak.

It had been a long time since Aerys had seen his grandsire. He had been informed that the king had been bedridden for some time, but he had never imagined it was this bad. The young man looked to the ground as the king passed, unable to bring himself to look at him.

“I will sit the throne today,” The king announced, dismissing his hand.

Aerys watched almost anxiously as the man struggled up the stairs, refusing the help of one of the Cargyll twins who had run to his aid. His heart leaped in his chest as the man stumbled on the steps, his golden crown falling from his head, hitting the stone steps with an echoing clatter. Prince Daemon immediately moved to aid his king. Despite all their differences, they were still brothers. Prince Daemon helped the king to his throne before gently placing the golden crown on his head.

“I must admit my confusion,” the king proclaimed. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes, is the princess Rhaenys.”

All eyes fell on the queen who never was, “Indeed, your grace.”

The woman stepped forward to speak her piece.

“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through taser Laenor, to his true born son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.”

A smile came to Aerys’ face as the woman spoke in support of Lucerys. However, he believed the woman was only doing so due to the king’s unexpected appearance. He and Rhaena shared a brief smile as the princess announced the twins' betrothal to Rhaenyra’s sons. It was no secret to him that Rhaena was fond of Luke. He was happy for his cousins. A sense of relief filled Aerys’ chest as the king reaffirmed Lucerys as the heir of Driftmark, though it was short-lived.

Small gasps filled the great hall as Ser Vaemond confronted the king. Aerys himself was stunned. Surely, he was not so foolish as to question the king in his own court? The man had gone mad. Aerys could feel his anger rise as the Velaryon man yelled, cruelly singling out Luke.

“You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine!” Vaemond sneered. “My house survived the doom and a thousand tribulations besides! And gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this-”

“Say it,” Prince Daemon challenged.

The air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Everyone remained silent, watching with anticipation. The man needed to be quiet. He had said enough.

“Her children,” the man paused, “are bastards! And she... is... a whore.”

Aerys clenched his jaw, his hands balled into fists as he struggled to keep his composure. The fool had already sealed his fate. He would not leave this room with his tongue. If he even got to keep his head. The king stood to his feet and unsheathed his blade to defend his daughter’s honor. Prince Daemon beat him to it. Aerys felt Rhaena cling to his arm as Ser Vaemond’s body fell to the ground. The top half of his head rolled on the floor.

“He can keep his tongue.”

“Disarm him!”

The white cloaks quickly unsheathed their blades at the hand's command.

“No need,” Daemon smirked as he wiped the blood off his sword, returning to his wife’s side.

The king collapsed on his throne with a painful groan.

“Call the maesters!” Queen Alicent called, rushing to his side.

Aerys attempted to block Ser Vaemond’s body from Rhaena as he escorted her from the throne room. He took one last look at the man’s body. It was not the first time he had watched a man die. He did not find it in himself to feel any sympathy for the man. He had brought his death upon himself. But he did feel sorry for the man’s wife and children. They lost their father because he couldn't hold his tongue.

—

The smell of incense overwhelms the room, an attempt to mask the scent of the king’s wounds. Aerys can hear the king mumbling to himself in the dark. He had been brought back to his chambers to rest before joining them for supper. His eyes search around the room. It is covered with dust and cobwebs, like it has been abandoned for years. Aerys walks slowly as he nears the king's bed, not wanting to frighten him.

“Grandfather,” he called out, gently sitting at the foot of his bed.

“Who? Who is there?” He whispered, though his eye remained closed.

Aerys took his hand and moved closer to him.

“It’s me, Aerys.”

“Oh, my grandson... my first grandson.” He smiled. “Where is she?”

“Where is who, grandfather?”

“Your mother, my sweet little Naerys,” he smiled.

Aerys’ eyes burned with tears. Who knows how long his grandfather's mind had been fading from him? And all this time, he had left him alone, selfishly never returning to visit him.

“She’s gone, grandfather. My mother died years ago, remember?”

It broke his heart to watch the man’s smile fall.

“Oh yes, I had forgotten.”

The two sat in silence after that. Aerys did not know what to say to him. In truth, he did not understand why he had come here.

The king gasped, struggling to speak. “...erys.”

“Yes, my king?”

“Have you returned to me?”

A small smile came to the king's lips as he squeezed Aerys’ hand. Aerys frowned, his brows drawn together. He was a coward. He had spent the last five years hiding away on Dragonstone, too afraid to return to this place that he had once called home. Tears began to well up in his eyes. Aerys nodded his head, forcing a smile.

“I have my king,” he said softly. “And I will not abandon you again.”

The man groaned in pain, mumbling incoherent sentences. Aerys ran his fingers over the man’s face to calm him. A small smile graced his lips as he leaned into his touch.

“My sweet girl,” the king whispered as he drifted off to sleep.

Aerys tensed up, sadness clouding his face.

“It’s alright, my king,” he whispered. “Rest now.”

Aerys held onto the bedpost and cried quietly into his hand. He took a deep breath, wiping his face before leaving the room.

—

Aerys stood beside Rhaena as Jace began jesting about ‘joining’ their houses. Baela, ever so smitten by the young man, laughed along with him. Aerys and Rhaena shared a glance before rolling their eyes. Aerys’ eyes moved around the room. They stopped as they met Aegon’s gaze. Aerys could feel his heart beating faster. His lips parted slightly, and a flush crept up his face. Prince Aemond made a comment that caused his brother to laugh, dropping his head. Aerys swallowed, turning his focus back to his cousins.

Everyone stood as the king was carried into the room before taking their seats. Aerys took his seat between Rhaena and Prince Daemon.

“How good it is... to see you all tonight,” the king observed, looking over the faces of his family.

“Together.” He added, breathing heavily.

As he looked around the table, Aerys dropped his head, avoiding the king’s eye.

“Prayer before we begin?” Queen Alicent suggested.

The king agreed with a slight nod. Aerys shifted in his seat awkwardly. It had been so long since he had done this. He lowered his head but kept his hands on his lap. Thankfully, it was over soon enough.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” the king began. “My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses.”

Aerys smiled, raising his glass to the newly betrothed couples.

“A toast to the young princes- and their betrothed.”

“Hear, hear!” Prince Daemon cheered as they raised their glasses.

“Let us toast as well, Prince Lucerys, future Lord of the Tides.”

“Hear, hear.” Aerys smiled, nodding at Luke.

The king struggled to stand to his feet. Aerys balled his hands, fighting the urge to rush to his aid. It pained him to see his king this way.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow, to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world... Yet grown so distant from each other.”

Aerys nervously glanced across the table to find the prince staring back at him. He dropped his eyes to the table in shame and sorrow.

“In the years past.”

Aerys winced as the king pulled the mask from his face—the severity of his disease on display for his family to see.

“My own face... is no longer a handsome one. If indeed it ever was,” the king jested.

Aerys urged a small smile to his face.

“But tonight. . .I wish you to see me. . .as I am. Not just a king. . .but your father. Your brother. Your husband. . .and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems. . .walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the house of the dragon is divided. You must put aside your grievances.”

Aerys chewed at his bottom lip. If only it were that simple. Perhaps it could have been long ago. But now, the seeds of contempt planted within this family had begun to bear fruit. Aerys feared for his grandfather. As much as it pained him to admit it, his grandsire was right. He would not be among them for much longer. Aerys feared for what might happen once he passed. Not for himself, but for his family, for the realm. The sad tale of King Aenys came to mind, particularly the end of his reign and what came after. Would history repeat itself so soon? Aerys shook his head, clearing his mind.

“If not for the sake of the crown. . then for the sake of this old man. Who loves you all, so dearly.”

The sorrow and desperation in the king's voice rang loudly in his ears. Once more, memories Aerys had forgotten seemed to be making an appearance. Those blue summers and warm winters he spent in the castle as a child. Laughing and running amok, as he followed along with Aegon’s pranks. His heart squeezed in his chest as the prince’s name came to mind. Those memories that were so cheerful and warm brought nothing but pain to him now.

The foolish daydreams of his youth weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had naively believed that he and Aegon would be friends until they grew old and withered away. That their love and friendship would be carried on through their children. Oh, to be a child again, so oblivious to the ways of the world.

The queen and the princess made heartwarming toasts to one another. Aerys raised his glass as Queen Alicent finished her toast. He took a small sip, enjoying the slight burn as the wine slipped down his throat. It had been so long since he tasted wine on his tongue. Shamefully, he had to admit that he missed it. Aerys’ eye fell on the prince once more. He scrunched his face as he watched Aegon throw his head back, desperate for the last drop of wine in his glass. It seemed the whispers of his overindulgence of wine might have more truth to them than he thought.

Aerys sighed, continuing to take light sips. Aegon cleared his throat. Aerys looked up, thinking that he would make a toast as well. Instead, Aegon rose to his feet, moving between Baela and Jace to refill his glass. However, Aerys could see him lean down to whisper something in Baela’s ear. A deep scowl appeared on the young girl's face.

Aerys tensed when Jace slammed his fists down on the table, his hand subconsciously reaching out for Rhaena before he pulled it back.

“Jace,” Baela whispered.

Aerys put down his glass, observing the young man. Jace had a short temper, similar to his mother. The young man waved her off as he attempted to keep his composure.

Prince Aemond rose to his feet. Aerys' eyes shifted between the both of them. There was a stare-down between him and Jace, but the younger boy quickly backed down. Instead, Jace chose to raise a toast to his uncles.

“To prince Aegon and. . .Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth.”

Jace glanced quickly at Luke and Aerys before returning to his uncles.

“And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles.”

Jace placed a firm hand on his uncle’s shoulder. Aegon seemed almost discouraged by the boy’s actions.

“To you as well,” Aegon replied.

Prince Aemond glared one last time before returning to his seat. Aerys understood that the ‘fond memories’ part of Jace’s speech was merely a jest, but he feared the princes might take it as a slight.

“Well done, my boy.” The king praised.

Helaena was next to make a toast. A toast to Rhaena and Baela.

“They’ll be married soon,” the princess glanced around the table. “It isn’t so bad. Mostly, he just ignores you... except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Scattered laughter filled the room, but Aerys found no humor in the woman’s words. The prince looked his way, and Aerys could see the hurt that flashed in his eyes as he saw the look of repulsion on Aerys’ face. Aerys always knew Aegon was not fond of Helaena as children. He loved his sister, but they never saw eye to eye. Aerys had hoped that would change over time. That he would come to love her as a husband loved his wife. Though perhaps that was just him being naive once again.

“Let us have some music,” the king called, quickly trying to fill the tense silence.

Jace asked Helaena to dance, and she happily agreed. This made Aerys smile; if anyone here deserves some happiness, it is Helaena.

Queen Alicent called for the guards. It seemed the king was ready to retire for the night. His eyes followed Ser Erryk as he and his brother went to stand at the door to escort the king to his chambers. Aerys had also hoped this was his chance to leave, but Queen Alicent instructed everyone to sit. He finished his second cup of wine as a suckling pig was laid on the table. The sight of it almost made his stomach churn. Aerys had never been fond of pork. It was too greasy for his taste.

The sound of fist slamming on the table caused him to flinch. Why must everyone insist on beating this poor table, he questioned himself. Prince Aemond’s eye was focused solely on Luke as he raised his cup.

“Final tribute,” he paused. “To the health of my nephews. Jace. . .Luke. . .and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise. . .strong.”

Aerys lowered his cup to the table. While his uncles may have fun humiliating their nephews, he did not. Queen Alicent tried to get Aemond to stop, but he would not listen.

“Come. . .let us drain our cups to these three. . .strong boys.” He raised his cup.

“I dare you to say that again,” Jace challenged.

“Why?” Aemond narrowed his eye on the boy. “‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

He moved to meet Jace as the boy stalked his way, throwing a punch. However, the hit did not have much impact as Aemond quickly shoved the boy to the ground. As Luke tried to rush to Jace’s defense, Aegon slammed him into the table. Baela came to Luke's defense, immediately grabbing onto Aegon. Aerys was on his feet instantly, quickly rushing to Baela’s aid. Aerys pulled the girl from the prince’s grasp, handing her to her sister. He pushed the prince back as he tried to move forward. Prince Aegon stumbled backward, his back hitting his chair. The prince’s eyes widened, and his lips turned downward. Tears shimmered in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly turned away. Aerys feels his heart drop to his stomach.

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder, and he turned to find Prince Daemon standing behind him. The man nodded towards his daughter. Aerys understood, and he walked over to try to soothe an enraged Baela. Jace freed himself from the guard’s grasp, but before he could lunge back at Aemond, Prince Daemon stepped forward.

“Wait, wait!” He commanded.

Immediately, they all backed down. It was never a good idea to disobey the man’s commands. Aerys’ eyes follow Aegon, watching as the prince walks away, leaving the room without another word.

If only his grandfather were here to see his happy family now, Aerys thought.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.” Rhaenyra ordered.

Rhaena held onto Baela as they followed Luke out of the room. Jace went after them, glaring at Prince Aemond as he walked. Aerys stayed behind to watch the situation unfold. Prince Daemon moved to stand in front of Aemond with a bored sigh, waiting to see if the young man was brave enough to challenge him.

The two princes stared each other down for a moment before Aemond walked away. Prince Daemon was not far behind.

“Rhaenyra.” Queen Alicent called, rushing towards the woman’s side.

Aerys took a step back, allowing the women's room to speak. He noticed Ser Otto watching the two women before the old man’s eyes turned to him. The two men glared at one another. The cut and bruise may have healed, but the memory of that man daring to lay a hand on him was still fresh in Aerys' mind.

Aerys turned his head as he saw the queen reaching out for Rhaenyra. He shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with the woman touching Nyra. The last time she did, it did not end well.

“Let me see the children home. I’ll, umm, return on dragonback.”

Queen Alicent smiled. “The king and I would both like that.”

Aerys moved forward, holding out an arm for Nyra to hold. She accepted, wrapping her arm around his as they left the room. He waited until the doors closed behind them to speak.

“You plan to come back here? Do you think that is wise?” He asked, nodding down to her stomach.

She placed her free hand over her bump, rubbing smooth circles around it.

She let out a weary sigh. “I do. My father was right. As much as it pains me to say it, he does not have much time left in this world. I wish to spend whatever time he has left by his side. I’ve been away from him long enough.”

“Then it seems you and I share the same affliction.”

She turned her head upward to look him in the eyes.

“You wish to stay?”

“I do. In truth, I had never intended to stay on Dragonstone as long as I did. I simply just never had the courage to return here on my own. And now I realize that I’ve wasted so much time I could have been here, caring for him.”

“Aerys,” she sighed. “He is the king. He has the best maester’s in the realm here to attend to him at all times.”

“I don’t mean tending to his wounds. You’ve been to his room. It’s so cold and dark. He deserves to spend the last of his days surrounded by those who love and care for him. Not maesters and-”

“Alright,” Nyra interrupts.

She stops, turning to take both his hands in hers.

“You may stay. I will return within a week, and we can try to make up for lost time.”

Aerys nodded in agreement. She smiled as she wrapped her arm around his, continuing on their way. Nyra leaned her head against his arm.

“Besides, it will be nice knowing I have you here at my side.” She squeezed his arm as he escorted her to her quarters.

—

“Surely you don’t plan to stay here?” Jace scoffed.

The young man stood beside the fireplace, staring at Aerys in incredulity. Baela moved to his side, entwining their fingers. Jace turned his head towards her, taking a deep breath to calm himself. His anger from tonight's dinner fiasco had yet to dissipate.

“Stay? Why would you stay?” Luke asked from his place on the bed.

Rhaena sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. However, they both looked as if they were about to cry. Aerys could feel his heart breaking as he watched them.

“You have all seen how much the king's condition has worsened in the last six years. It’s a wonder the man even managed to get out of bed.” Aerys pressed, slightly shaking his head.

The four looked down to the ground to the floor in sorrow. They knew just as well as he did that the king would not survive much longer.

“I need to be here for him.”

A thick blanket of silence covered the room. The four raised their heads to exchange glances. Jace sighed before walking forward to meet Aerys.

“You’re right, cousin, do what you have to.” Jace smiled, opening his arms.

Aerys smiled, moving forward to accept the embrace. They patted each other on the back as they pulled away. Aerys walked over to the bed, and Luke stood to his feet as he approached. The boy's eyes were welled with tears as he struggled to keep a slight smile on his lips. Aerys placed a warm hand on the boy's cheek.

“This is not goodbye, Luke,” he smiled. “We will meet again.”

Luke nodded, allowing Aerys to pull him in for a hug. He exchanged hugs with the twins, and both girls promised that they would keep their eyes on the boys. Ser Darklyn stepped into the room, holding his helmet in hand.

“Prince Daemon says it is time to depart.”

“Thank you, Ser Darklyn,” Jace replied, nodding.

Aerys spun the ring around his finger as he watched them walk down the hall, arm in arm. Even though he knew they would see each other again, watching them fade into the shadows still hurt.

Tags: @teamavatar13 , @willow-red , @saicherry

#aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x oc #fire and blood #hotd #hotd aegon #house of the dragon fanfic #king aegon #male!oc #targcest #aegon the elder #aegon the second #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf #house targaryen #house of the dragon

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Six

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

WARNING: 18+ NSFW, masturbation, use of the word cock, internalized homophobia. There is a flashback in this chapter that takes place a bit before Chapter 1 and Episode 6 of the show. Aerys is horrendously down bad for his uncle (like aunt like nephew, I guess).

a/n: I will be referring to Aegon III as Egg because there are too many damn Aegons in this family circle. Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

“You’re dead,” Aerys quipped, standing brazenly over the brown-haired boy.

The tip of his wooden sword sat under the boy’s chin. Lucerys winced, his body laid out on the ground. The fall had knocked the wind out of him. Aerys took a few steps back, giving the poor boy some space. Lucerys stood to his feet, dusting himself off.

“I thought you said-”

“Valyrian,” Aerys warned.

Lucerys sighed, pondering his thoughts for a moment.

“I thought you said you would go easy?”

“I did,” Aerys smirked.

Lucerys huffed, using his sword to trace small circles into the dirt. Aerys stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“You’re still young. I don’t believe anyone expects you to be a master swordsman quite yet.” Aerys smiled.

“I’m no warrior...”

“Perhaps not,” Aerys sighed. “But there are more important things than knowing how to wave a sword. Any fool could swing one, but a true warrior must understand that not every conflict can be solved with bloodshed.”

Luke peeked his head up, his face still looking discouraged. Aerys squeezed the boy’s shoulder. It disheartened the man to watch Luke be so hard on himself. Especially since Luke seemed to be doing it a lot more recently. The sound of clinking armor caught their attention. They both raised their heads to watch Rhaenyra descend the stairs to the training yard. Ser Lorent held out his hand, offering it for her to hold onto as she reached the last few steps.

“Mother!” Luke greeted warmly, moving to her side.

Rhaenyra smiled widely, her hand cupping the young boy’s face. Aerys picked Luke’s sword off the ground. He handed them off to the retainer, who ran to assist him. Aerys dusted off his hands before joining his aunt and cousin. Luke had gone pale. Aerys could see his hands begin to tremble.

“You should clean yourself up before we leave,” Rhaenyra smiled, kissing the boy’s hair.

Luke swallowed and nodded. The two waited until he reached the top of the stairs before speaking.

“Has something happened?” Aerys asked.

“Vaemond Velaryon is sailing for King’s Landing. He intends to petition to be named Lord Corlys’ successor.”

“And, in turn, question Luke’s legitimacy. I had hoped we were past all of this by now.” Aerys sighed, shaking his head.

“As did I,” Nyra replied. “We will be sailing to King’s Landing as well.”

The woman paused, taking Aerys’ hands in hers.

“You are not required to join us. No doubt you're still exhausted from your trip to Castamere.”

Aerys dropped his eyes down to their joined hands. Kings Landing, he had yet to return to the city after he left it behind five years ago. The young man never found the strength to go back. His life on Dragonstone was considerably less complicated. The thought of returning now, after all this time, was quite... daunting.

“No, I should join you. To show my support for Luke.”

“Aerys,” the woman sighed. “I don’t want you to put yourself in an uncomfortable position. I know you left for a reason-”

“Nyra, nothing happened.”

“You showed up to Dragonstone in tears. I had to hold you until you fell asleep. I’ve never forced you to tell me what happened, but I think you and I know it wasn’t nothing.”

Aerys bit his lip, the memory replaying itself in his head of him landing on the shoreline of Dragonstone, sobbing like a small child. Nyra rushed to his side, fearing that he was hurt. No words needed to be spoken between the two. It was like she knew instantly, just from looking into his eyes. She understood the pain in his heart. It was not his proudest moment. The two hadn’t even spoken of it since.

“I will be fine, Nyra.” Aerys smiled, gently squeezing her hands. “I want to join you.”

Her eyes shifted between his, searching for any sign of insincerity.

“As you wish. Am I to presume that Agana will be joining us as well?” She raised a brow.

“I believe she’d follow me even if I told her not to.” Aerys snickered.

His eyes moved towards the giant smoking mountain behind the Valyrian Freehold.

—

“Hello, Lord Aerys!” The dragon keepers greeted him warmly.

“Hello,” Aerys nodded with a polite smile.

A large winged shadow passed overhead. The men raised their heads, attempting to locate the silver dragon. The sky was gray and cloudy. As it usually was on Dragonstone. It made it a bit challenging to spot Agana in the sky. The sound of flapping wings filled the air as she descended towards the ground. She landed on the shore with a loud thud. Her claws sank into the sand as she steadied herself.

It was hard to believe how much she had grown over the last five years. She seemed to grow much faster on the island than she did in the dragon pit. The dragon was even bigger than Syrax now. Her body was long and slender, almost snakelike, similar to Caraxes, though she was still smaller than the bloodwyrm. Aerys ran his hand over her snout, careful not to put too much pressure on the scar tissue. Three jagged claw marks now scarred her silver-scaled snout. The dragon keepers believed she had gotten into a scuffle with the beast they called the cannibal. Though they were not sure. There were a few unclaimed dragons that made their lairs within the dragonmont. It could have been any one of them.

The pearlescent white horns that sprouted from the top of her head were much more prominent now. They curved slightly backward like ram horns. Aerys himself had grown as well. Now standing six feet tall, his body was well toned from years of training with a sword and climbing upon Agana’s back. The features of his face were much sharper, and he had grown his hair out a little past his shoulders. It had lightened as well. His hair was now more on the golden side, with just a hint of copper. Aerys smiled as Agana nudged her face against his chest.

“We must be going now,” he informed her.

Agana pulled her head back before lowering her body to the ground. Aerys pulled on his riding gloves as he walked around to her side. His fingers curled around the ropes tightly as he climbed to his saddle. The saddle was similar to an ordinary horse saddle, albeit much larger. It was made of black leather, with two black handlebars and red and silver plating in the front, displaying the sigil of his father’s house—a red lion with a forked tail on a silver field. His brother Robb commissioned the saddle as a gift for his twenty-first name day.

Aerys strapped himself in the saddle, his hands gripped to handlebars as he gave the command. Agana ran forward, fanning out her wings before leaping into the air. The salty sea breeze of the Blackwater Bay filled his lungs. He enjoyed the smell of the sea. The stench of King's Landing was something he had quickly learned to live without. His heart raced with excitement. Aerys must have ridden Agana thousands of times by now, yet the thrill never stopped. They had quickly caught up with the Princess’s ship. Agana slowed down a bit, staying close to the vessel. They would reach the capital soon.

—

The two circled above the dragonpit. Agana huffed defiantly as she lowered herself down to the ground. Aerys felt his body roughly jerk side to side. He glared at the she-dragon, knowing that she was capable of landing much more gracefully than she did. The young lord quickly dismounted, pulling off his riding gloves to shove them in his pocket.

“That was childish,” he scorned his winged companion.

Agana let out a loud snort and turned her head away.

“We won’t be here long,” he reassured, patting the scales of her neck.

“It’s been a long time, Lord Aerys,” one of the older dragon keepers, Vargo, called as he approached the two. Aerys recognized him immediately. He had been caring for the dragons since Aerys was a boy. “She has grown.”

“Indeed she has,” Aerys agreed. “Though I fear she remains as short-tempered as ever.”

The two shared a laugh as the man led Aerys away. The man led him out of the dragonpit, where the princess's carriage awaited him. He exchanged goodbyes before climbing into the carriage and sitting beside Jace and Rhaena. The carriage bounced as it made its way through the city. Something in the city had changed; Aerys could feel it. Though he couldn’t yet put his finger on what it was. Perhaps it was all in his head.

He could hear the gates groan loudly as they were pried apart. His stomach clenched like a balled fist as the carriage came to a halt. Nyra was the first to exit as Ser Darklyn announced her arrival. Aerys waited until everyone was out before he made his exit. The evening was approaching quickly. The sky grew darker as more clouds rolled in, attempting to shield the sun. The outer yard was nearly deserted, minus the few maids and retainers. Aerys felt his anger beginning to rise. This was not a welcome befitted of the princess and heir to the iron throne.

Viserys had begun to fuss in the wet nurse's arms. The woman was growing slightly flustered as she tried to calm him. Aerys held his hands out, offering to take the boy. The young woman nodded gratefully as she handed him over. Aerys bounced the little boy in his arms.

“What is this?!” He asked, pulling a little wooden dragon out of his pocket.

The little boy quieted down as his eyes landed on the dragon. His chubby little fingers reached for the toy. Aerys chuckled as he allowed him to take it. The castle doors opened, and a familiar face revealed itself.

“Welcome back, Princess.” The head of House Caswell said as he gently held Nyra’s hands.

“Lord Caswell,” she greeted him courteously.

The castle was quiet, too quiet. The giant seven-pointed star was the first thing that caught Aerys’ attention. As he looked around the halls, more statues of the seven popped up more frequently. If he did know any better, he would find it hard to believe this was the seat of House Targaryen. Aerys handed the now calm Viserys back off to the wetnurse before deciding to explore on his own. The sound of his boots clacking echoed off the cold stone floor. It seemed like much had changed since he left for Dragonstone.

This place seemed almost unrecognizable to him. None of it matched up with the memories in his mind. The memories of rushing up and down the halls, trying to keep Jace and Luke out of trouble. The memories of the many nights he had indulged in too much wine and stumbled down dark corridors with... him . Aerys found his mind beginning to drift back to one particular night in this very corridor.

“She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair,

But he licked the honey from her hair,

Her hair! Her hair!

He licked the honey from her hair!”

The two boys sang loudly as they stumbled down the empty corridor. Their arms wrapped around the other's shoulders as they struggled to stay on their feet. Aegon raised his free hand into the air, waving it around. Aerys let out a short yelp as they nearly fell backward. Fortunately, he was able to regain his balance in time. However, some of the wine in the flagon he was holding had spilled. That seemed to snap Aegon out of his drunken haze for a moment.

“You’re wasting it!” He cried out.

“Well, if you would stop flailing about like a dying fish, I wouldn’t have spilled it!” Aerys retorted.

The two stopped in their tracks, glaring at each other. The glaring silence didn’t last long before Aegon laughed, tiny beads of spit landing on Aerys’ face. Aerys groaned, using his sleeve to wipe his face. Before he could say anything, Aegon began to sing. Aerys shook his head, joining in.

“Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air!

My bear! She sang. My bear so fair!

And off they went, from here to there,

The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair!”

The pair ended the song with a loud cheer. They had finally run out of words to sing. Aerys began humming a tune. He didn’t know if it was from an actual song or something his mind created. The boy let out a short gasp as he felt himself being pulled back by the back of his shirt. He had failed to notice that Aegon had stopped walking. Aerys turned his head to watch as Aegon looked around.

“Where are we?” Aegon asked, puzzled.

Aerys hummed, turning his head both ways.

“A dark corridor,” he answered.

Aegon tilted his head to the side, shooting Aerys an annoyed glare.

“Well, obviously, you twat, but which one?”

Aerys shrugged, moving to lean against the stone wall on the left. He must have lost his footing as he found himself sliding down the wall. Aerys let out a groan as his butt hit the hard stone floor. Aegon laughed, slowly lowering himself to the ground and sitting beside Aerys. Aerys raised the flagon to his lips, letting the red wine slide down his throat. When he had his fill, he handed it to Aegon, who eagerly accepted it.

Aerys looked around the dark corridor. The candles hanging on the walls were burned low. He considered returning to his grandsire's name day celebration in the great hall, but ultimately decided against it. The two boys had snuck away hours ago to escape the pestering lords and their daughters. Aerys must have been introduced to nearly a hundred different eligible bachelorettes. However, he couldn’t remember a single one’s name at the moment. He was growing tired of attending these celebrations. Though the boy had never been fond of them, to begin with. His grandsire had thrown one to celebrate Luke’s eighth name day not long ago.

During celebrations like this, Aerys couldn’t help but feel... lonely. Watching as Rhaenyra doted on her children all night had left a sour taste in his mouth. However, Aerys was quick to chastise himself for feeling this way. Neither Rhaenyra nor her sons were to blame for his childish jealousy. They had been kind enough to welcome him into their little family. Rhaenyra herself has done more than enough for him. It was selfish for him to want more. He is selfish.

“Stop thinking so much. It’s making my head hurt!” Aegon groaned.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Aerys smiled.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Here, have some more,” Aegon said, lifting the flagon to Aerys’ lips.

Aerys parted his lips, taking a few deep gulps before pulling back. He turned his head to the prince sitting by his side. Aegon’s white hair was messy and wavy, as it usually was. Under the candlelight, Aerys could make out his flushed face and half-lidded eyes. He takes a deep breath, allowing the prince’s scent to envelop his senses- the smell of strong wine, pine, and a thin veil of sweat. It may not have been what many would describe as a pleasant scent, but it brought Aerys a great sense of comfort. It was familiar. It made him feel warm.

“Aerys...” There’s a playfulness to his voice, but in a whisper, making his breath brush against Aerys’ face.

“Yes...?” Aerys whispers back.

“I think I’m drunk...”

“Aegon...”

“Yeah...?”

“I think I’m drunk too.”

The two giggle to themselves, amused by their drunkenness. Once the laughter subsided, the two were left in a comfortable silence. It’s only then that Aerys realizes how close they are. Their faces are only inches apart. He can feel Aegon's breath on his face. His eyes trail over every inch of the prince's face. It was a handsome one. Anyone who said otherwise was a liar and a fool.

Aerys reaches his hand over, lacing their fingers together. He leans his head forward so that their noses are now touching.

“What are you doing?” Aegon whispers with a wide grin on his face.

“I don’t know,” Aerys answers.

Aegon's grip on his hand is tight, but Aerys’ is even tighter. The thought of ever having to let go pained him. Iris eyes meet violet, and Aerys can see his emotions and desires reflected in those lovely violet eyes. The veil that has been placed between them, preventing the two from ever acting on this unspoken tension that has been simmering just below the surface, has dwindled into near nothingness. The unasked question, that neither has dared to speak aloud, hangs heavy in the air.

Do you feel this, too?

They maintain eye contact, and Aerys sees a flash in Aegon’s eyes. He does.

Aerys shuts his eyes and finally closes the rest of the short gap between them. The kiss is chaste and a bit awkward. Aerys blames it on the wine and the fact that it was his first real kiss. As he tried apologizing, Aegon grabbed him by the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. Aerys has never known another touch like this. His face feels hot, and a surge of warmth enters his veins. Aerys thinks he could keep doing this forever. He wants to do this forever, or at least all night. But his body had an unfortunate need for air. Aerys pulled back with a gasp, struggling to catch his breath. Aegon let out a breathy laugh before laying his head on Aerys’ shoulder.

The young lord swallowed, blinking away the memory. That was all in the past now. The man continued his journey through the castle. The garden was empty, much like the rest of the castle. He walked down the stone path, stopping before the ancient weirwood tree. Once again, tears of red sap fell. It seemed smaller than he remembered. He leaned down, picking up a red leaf that had fallen. Aerys held it in his hands. He watched tiny droplets of water collecting on the leaf fall to the dirt. Aerys closed his eyes, leaning his head back. He took a deep breath, feeling the cold breeze kiss his face. Perhaps it was a mistake to come back here.

Dark gray clouds filled the sky, forcing out the little sunlight that remained. The old gods seemed to be pitying the sight that stood before them. The weight of guilt and shame sits heavy on his shoulders. The burden of regret digs into his skin like talons. Surprisingly, he found his throat yearning for the taste of wine. Aerys had quit drinking soon after he left the capital after coming to the realization that he was quite the depressing drunk.

He let the leaf slip through his fingers. Aerys fiddled with the ring around his little finger. Fortunately, it still fits comfortably. He wondered how many times his mother stood in this very spot. Nyra told him that his mother was fascinated by the old gods. She didn’t worship them, but she did enjoy studying them. The man opened his eyes to study the ancient tree. He was told the red sap meant something terrible was coming. Aerys couldn’t help but think there was some truth to the old wives' tale. Or perhaps the ancient tree was in pain. Being trapped inside these castle walls closed off from the world around it. It was said that all the weirwood trees were connected. But gods are only as strong as those who have faith in them. The old gods were not worshiped much outside of the north and some parts of the river lands. Perhaps the connection was lost.

Aerys shook his head to clear his mind. Here he was, raving like a madman. The hour was growing late; he decided to check on the boys. Aerys turned, walking back to the castle. As he went to open the door, it pushed open. Aerys quickly moved out of the way to avoid being hit.

“Oh, Lord Reyne, my apologies.”

“It’s alright, Princess Rhaenys. I should have paid more attention,” he smiled politely before adding, “If you’ll excuse me.”

The older woman nodded, moving out of the way so he could pass. “Of course.”

Aerys was not unfamiliar with the queen who never was, but they were by no means close friends. He made his way into the castle, walking down another empty corridor. As he turned the corner, he spotted Nyra and Rhaena walking together. Rhaena spotted him first.

“Aerys!” She called with a smile, waving a hand.

Aerys sped up his pace to meet them.

“Have you seen my grandmother?” She asked.

“Yes, she just entered the garden.” He answered, pointing behind him.

“Rhaena, will you give us a minute?”

The two turned to look at Nyra, who held her stomach gently. Rhaena nodded quickly before walking a little ahead to provide them space to talk.

“Isn’t the castle as warm as it was six years ago?” Aerys jests.

Nyra rolled her eyes. “It certainly has changed. Have you seen the king yet?”

Aerys shook his head. “Not yet, how is he?”

“Worse than the last time I saw him,” the woman sighed heavily.

Her hands subconsciously ran over her stomach. She did it a lot, especially when she was worried about something.

“Did you speak with Rhaenys?” She asked next.

“Briefly,” he shrugged.

“How did she seem?”

“About as warm and loving as this dear castle.”

Nyra scoffed, her lips widening into a grin. “Check on the boys for me, will you?”

“That’s where I’m headed,” Aerys affirmed.

“We shall meet for supper later.”

“Of course, Princess,” he bowed.

Nyra lightly pushed him back as she passed. He laughed as he carried on down the hall. Aerys began lightly humming to himself. Desperate to get rid of the cold silence. As he neared the end of the hallway, something moving caught his eye. He stopped, his eyes falling on a rather large gray cat. The cat was sitting, just watching him. It did not move as he approached it slowly. He kneeled to the ground. The first thing he thinks to do is scratch under its chin. The cat seemed to glare at him before giving in, releasing a loud purr as it relaxed under his touch. He was suddenly reminded of Agana.

Aerys pulled his hand back, pushing himself up to his feet. The cat moved closer, brushing against his legs.

“I apologize, friend, but I must go.” He explained.

Now, he was talking to a cat; perhaps he was going mad.

“Aerys...?”

He froze.

No. No, no, no.

Not now.

Not yet.

It was too soon. Aerys wasn’t ready to face him. He clenched his fist to try and stop his fingers from trembling. His hair had begun to stick to the sweat on the back of his neck. He could feel his stomach tighten up, bile rising in his throat. His heart thudded in his chest, blood pounded in his ears, and his vision seemed to be distorted. Everything around him appeared blurred. Fingernails dug into the palms of his hands as he struggled to breathe. Aerys clenched his jaw. He breathed deeply through this nose, in , out, in, out, in, out.

“Aerys.” The voice called out, more assuredly this time.

Would it be too late to run? Aerys summoned all the courage he had. Just a few steps, and he could round the corner and run.

One step.

That was how far he made it before he felt himself coming to a halt—a strong hand wrapped around his wrist. Aerys swallowed hard, and his iris-colored eyes followed the hand to its owner.

It was like looking at a stranger, though Aerys supposed that’s what they were now. Strangers. The prince was taller now, just a couple of inches shorter than Aerys. His pale white hair was shorter but still looked messy and in need of a wash. Aerys believed the prince took after his mother in terms of facial features. If he had darker hair, he could probably pass as her twin. There was a darkness under his eyes that made it look like he hadn’t slept in days.

The prince lowered his hand to grab Aerys’ hand. The prince seemed to ignore the way Aerys flinched, itching to get away. It was so strange. Even the touch of his skin felt so foreign. The prince offers a little smile, moving to pull Aerys into an embrace. But he freezes when the young lord steps back, putting some distance between them. The prince’s smile fell, his lips slightly trembling. Aerys cleared his throat, pushing his shoulders back to stand up straight.

“It’s nice to see you again, Prince Aegon.”

It was a lie. But what else could he say?

“Yes,” The prince nodded. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I’m merely here to show my support for Luke, nothing more,” Aerys replied.

The reply sounded harsher out loud, but it was the truth. Hurt flashes in the prince’s violet eyes, and Aerys feels his heartache. Was he being too cruel?

“Of course,” the prince replied sullenly.

“I should be going. The princess requested I check on the children.”

“Are you one of her handmaids now?” The prince quipped.

Aerys felt the warmth spreading across his face. Had it been anyone else, he would have been offended. But the slight smirk on the prince’s face let him know it was a simple jest.

“Not officially,” Aerys countered with a smile.

The prince let out an amused scoff.

“Perhaps you would like to join me in my chambers for supper? To catch up on lost time?” The prince shrugged.

Panic coursed through Aerys’ veins. The thought of being alone with the prince in his chambers was too much.

“I would,” Aerys cleared his throat. “But I’ve already agreed to have supper with Rhaenyra.”

Aegon frowned. “You’ve had supper with her every night for five years. Surely, she can let you go for one night.”

“As I said, I’ve already agreed. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Aerys excused himself, quickly brushing past the Prince before the man could utter another word.

The hours passed quickly, and nightfall had arrived. The thunder had grown louder, and bolts of lightning began to flash now and again. Aerys had remained with Nyra and her children until he was about to drop from exhaustion. The little ones were restless, particularly little Egg, who insisted on challenging Aerys to duel after duel. But the man didn’t mind. It kept him distracted. Unlike now, as he lay wide awake in bed, glaring daggers into the white canopy above him. It seemed all that exhaustion had miraculously disappeared. He dreaded the morning to come. Aerys knew he would eventually be forced to face the prince once again. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. His mind drifted back to their interaction in the hall. To the moment, they shared that quick jest. At that moment, it was almost like they were their old selves again—just two young boys without a care.

The man sighed and turned onto his side. He stared at the wooden window shutters through the sheer white canopy, hoping it would lull him to sleep. The room seemed too big, too empty. It was not his own. Perhaps that was the reason sleep continued to evade him. Aerys longed for the warmth and familiarity of his room back on Dragonstone. He missed the mess and disorder. His room was cluttered with his artwork and books on various subjects. Everything in this room was clean and pristine, like no one had ever lived here. He didn’t like it.

His hopes of sleep went unanswered. He angrily rolled onto his back and huffed. His iris-colored eyes returned to the canopy above. As Aerys stared at the creases in the white fabric, he imagined the prince’s pale-white hair. Aerys thought back to when the prince had grabbed his hand in the hall. Despite the prince’s slightly haggard appearance, he was still rather good-looking. The prince’s hands were much larger now, yet the skin was surprisingly soft. He kept his nails short. His fingers were slender and pale, and his knuckles had a slight flush to them. The veins that popped out when he gripped Aerys’ wrist sent a chill down his spine. Aerys shamefully found himself wanting them on his skin again.

He closed his eyes and imagined the prince’s eyes—the same color as violet flowers, his favorite. He breathed deeply as he thought of his scent—strong wine, leather, a hint of pine, and a thin veil of sweat. Something about that scent set him ablaze.

Aerys slapped his hands over his face and groaned. He needed to stop. He couldn’t think of him that way. The man rolled over onto his side. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could. Sleep, he needed to sleep. Aerys tried to think of anything he could to try and distract himself from the stirring in his loins. The man took a deep breath, shaking his head to rid his mind of the sinful thoughts creeping in. Yet every thought in his mind turned to the prince. It seemed the five years apart had done little to smother the fire in his heart. He missed him. Aerys had tried not to. He had tried so hard to forget him. He tried so desperately to ignore that obscene hunger that wanted nothing more than to devour him.

The feeling of his bare cock straining against the blanket made his stomach flinch- like someone had punched him in the gut. Once again, the prince appears in his mind. His eyes, his lips, his hands. The more he thinks, the harder it gets-his cock. Aerys threw his arms over his head, burying his face into the curve of his elbow. His eyes were closed as he focused on the clear image of the prince in his mind.

His hands balled into fists above his head. Aerys shook his head again, attempting to rid himself of these thoughts. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder how the prince’s cold hands would feel running down his chest. A shuddering sigh escaped his lips as his hips bucked. His cock rubbed against the soft wool blanket, desperate for some relief. Aerys couldn’t touch it. He wouldn’t touch it. His mind and body had betrayed him, but he still held on to what little willpower remained to him.

A low moan fills the air as he imagines it isn’t a blanket but the prince’s hand. How his strong hands would look wrapped around his cock. How it would feel dragging up and down slowly, pumping his swollen tip. He imagined how the veins in his hand would pop out as he tightened his grip around his throbbing shaft. Pathetic whimpers slipped through Aerys’ lips as his hips rolled up against the warm fabric.

Pale pink, soft, glistening lips; how would they feel wrapped around him? Would he be able to take him all the way? Aerys imagined he could.

His breath hitched in his chest as he imagined the prince’s hot breath against him, taking him into his mouth. His warm tongue swirling around the tip as drool coated his aching cock. Aerys felt his hips rolling faster. It was hot, too hot. His skin felt on fire, but he didn’t want it to stop. Those beautiful violet eyes stare up at him, and he’s gone. Aerys slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle the staggering groans as he reaches his peak. His toes curled, and he arched his back slightly. His brows scrunched together as the tidal waves of pleasure swept across his body. Whimpers slip past his lips as his hips jut against the blanket, releasing the last of his seed. The waves turned to ripples that slowly ebbed out, finally freeing him from the shackles of his salacious thoughts.

Aerys winced as he shifted his legs, feeling the blanket stick to his skin. He sat up, bunching the blanket together before throwing it to the ground. The man allowed his body to fall back onto the bed, his hair fanning around his head. For a few moments, the room was silent, save for the occasional short gasp as his body recovered. A sense of guilt washed over him. His heart ached so much that his chest hurt.

The cold night air almost stings against his skin. Aerys rolls onto his side, bringing his knees up to his stomach. He crossed his arms over his chest, his nails digging into the skin of his palms. He felt so vulnerable- so humiliated. The sharp glint of his ring on the nightstand was enough to get the tears flowing. Sobs weigh heavily on his shoulders. His breath quickened, his eyes stung, and his nose burned. The man’s tears ran freely, but he pressed a hand against his mouth to quiet the sobs. His throat had begun to ache from trying to remain silent.

How pathetic he must look, curled up and weeping like a child. Aerys had tried so hard to stop these feelings. He spent the past five years trying to repress them, sleeping with some of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Yet this thing refused to go away. It itched in the back of his mind like a fresh scab. Nyra knew- not of his feelings for the prince, but his interest in men in general. She had tried to explain to him that what he felt was not evil or perverse. Aerys wanted to believe her; he did—anything to take this overpowering weight off his chest. Yet somehow, he always ended up here. Curled up in tears while his guilt and shame ate away at him. I must be damned, he thought. He was doomed to spend his life in agony as a deviant, a freak.

A bright bolt of lightning caused him to flinch. He wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to find warmth. The soft sound of his sniffling filled the darkness of the room. His mind and body were both utterly exhausted. Aerys felt his body slump down as the darkness took over.

Tags: @teamavatar13

#aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x oc #fire and blood #hotd #hotd aegon #house of the dragon fanfic #king aegon #male!oc #targcest #house targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon the second #team green #hbo house of the dragon

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sena-seastar · 1 year ago

Text

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Five

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

a/n: This chapter takes place before episode eight. There will be a few small time skips in this chapter. Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

Aerys stared down at the two babies in the cradle, swaddled in white wool blankets. Aegon and Helaena had welcomed the twins a fortnight ago. The king and queen could not have been more pleased. The twins were named Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, both named after the conciliator. No doubt it was the king’s hand's idea to name them after the most beloved Targaryen king. Aerys had quickly become well acquainted enough with Ser Otto to know there seemed to be no limits to the man’s ambitions. Surely, this was just some scheme to prove that his grandson was more fit to be the king’s heir. Aerys was fond of Aegon, but the prince lacked the patience for such a strenuous task.

Aerys continued watching over the newest additions to the family. There have been so many babies coming into the family lately. His sister-in-law had given birth not too long ago as well. To a healthy son. Aerys had yet to make the trip to Castamere, but he hoped he could soon. He hadn’t returned to the seat of his father’s house since he left all those years ago. Aerys wondered if the boy had inherited the typical reddish-gold hair and blue eyes of the Reynes. The raven his brother had sent only provided the name and gender of the child but not much else.

Rhaenyra had also given birth to another son—Prince Daemon's first son, Aegon, dubbed by many as Aegon the Younger. Aerys had been quite amused when he was told the child’s name. Many at court whispered that it was a slight against Queen Alicent’s eldest son, Aegon. Perhaps it was. Prince Daemon’s hostility towards the Queen and her father was well known. Aegon himself couldn’t care less about it. When Aerys had brought it up, Aegon merely shrugged and changed the conversation to something else.

Jaehaera was such a tiny little thing. Long white eyelashes sat on her plump cheeks, and wisps of white hair sat on her head. She reminded him of a little doll. Jaehaerys was larger and more robust. Unlike his sister, he had yet to grow hair. His chubby little hands were clenched into fists. The extra finger on his left hand twitched. Aerys had heard whispers of the boy's deformity. He shook his head, so the child had an extra finger and a couple of extra toes. Why did it matter? How cruel this world must be to judge such an innocent child so harshly for something they had no control over.

Jaehaera’s body jolted, her eyes fluttering open. However, the girl made no sound. Aerys moved to her side of the cradle. The child began wriggling, trying to escape the confines of the wool blanket. Aerys unswaddled her, allowing the girl to stretch out her limbs. Her pale lilac eyes explored the room, but she still made no sound. His index finger gently tapped her stomach to get her attention. Finally, her eyes landed on Aerys’ face.

Carefully, he lifted the girl into his hands. She was so light that he believed he had held pillows heavier than her. It was almost frightening. He had never held a baby this small before. The baby started to whine, but she calmed down once he gently bounced her in his arms.

“Hello, Jaehaera. Aren’t you a pretty one? You must get that from your mother.” Aerys cooed softly, hoping to garner a smile from the baby. She blinked, unimpressed by his attempt.

“Sorry, little one. Humor has never been my strong suit, I’m afraid.”

The girl began gurgling quietly. She moved a hand to her mouth and started chewing on her fingers. Aerys let out the deep, weary sigh he had been holding in. His grandsire had been putting more pressure on him to consider marriage since Aegon had wed Helaena. Aerys had no desire to marry. Aegon had only been married for two months before Helaena became pregnant. Aerys did not wish for that type of responsibility. Yet, as he held little Jaehaera in his arms, he couldn’t help but think... Perhaps it would not be so bad.

“Have you seen them? My flawed whelps.” A voice slurred from behind.

Aerys turned his head to find Aegon slumped against the door.

“What are you talking about?”

“They whisper about them. How imperfect they are.”

“Dragons do not care for the whispers of men. They are Targaryens; that is all that matters.”

Aerys watched as Aegon stumbled over to a chair. He sighed, placing the little girl back into the cradle. The boy moved to Aegon's side, helping him sit down comfortably. The prince reeked of wine, his eyes drooped low, and his cheeks were flushed. No doubt he had been drowning in his cups for hours. He seemed to do that a lot these days, even more than usual. Aerys kneeled to the floor, pulling off the prince's boots. The boy quietly placed them to the side. Aerys’ fingers deftly untied the strings of his cloak.

“You’ve been at it for hours; it’s time for you to rest,” Aerys said, pulling the cloak off his body.

His fingers tucked the cloak around Aegon as he had done many times before. The prince struggled against the cloak, pulling his arms out from under it. Aerys sighed, tucking the cloak around the prince's legs. He ignored Aegon’s fingers twirling his hair. Aerys pulled back, sitting on his knees. He grabbed Aegon's hands from his hair, setting them on the prince’s lap. The prince interlaced their fingers. Aerys gulped, staring down at their intertwined hands. His eyes flickered up to Aegon. Aegon stared back at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“I wish you were a girl,” he whispered.

Aerys stilled, his body stiffening under the prince’s touch. Aegon smiles down at him, and suddenly, Aerys is fighting the urge to pull him into his arms. One of his hands moved to push the white strand of hair away from Aegon's face. He keeps his hand up, resting against the prince's cheek. His eyes roamed over every inch of Aegon’s face. Aegon’s smile fades, replaced with a childish curiosity. Aerys watched as that curiosity turned to realization. The prince leans his face into the warmth of Aerys’ palm. Sorrowful eyes mirroring his own. They must be cursed. It was the only explanation Aerys could come up with for why they were plagued with this irremediable longing in their hearts.

Aerys pulled away, pushing himself to his feet.

“Get some sleep, Aegon,” he smiled sadly, his lips trembling.

He did not await a response before turning to leave the room. Quickly and quietly, slipping out the door. Aerys walked down the dark, quiet hallway. His mind is running rampant. How foolish he was to think they could ever return to the way they were before.

—

Aerys stared up at the giant skull of Balerion, the black dread. The cold, dark room was deserted, as it always was. The only one who had come down here regularly was the King. But with his sickness worsening, it was harder for him to visit. The boy walked forward, placing a hand on one of the dragon's giant teeth. This dragon was one of the last to see Valyria before the doom. He was born there. How difficult it must have been to abandon his home, not understanding that he would never be able to return. Perhaps that is why he took Princess Aerea there. He just wanted to go home.

The bone was cold to the touch. He walked over to remove one of the torches from the wall. Aerys returned to the dragon, holding the torch close to the skull. Dragons were made of fire. No doubt he missed the warmth. Aerys could feel eyes on him, and it made him wonder. Was Balerion still somehow trapped here? Where do the dragons go when their fire burns out? The realm liked to whisper about the ghosts that plagued Harrenhall. Did the red keep hold ghosts of its own? There has certainly been no shortage of pain and bloodshed within these walls.

“So you’ve found yourself a new hideout?”

“Who says I’m hiding?” Aerys countered, turning his back on the dragon’s skull.

Aegon stood behind him, swirling whatever was in his goblet. Aerys was willing to bet it was a sweet arbor red. That had always been the prince’s favorite.

“You left the feast early,” Aegon scowled.

“I congratulated you and Helaena on the children and provided gifts. I did not realize I was required to stay the entire night.” Aerys answered with a shrug.

“Did I do something?” Aegon asked.

“No,” Aerys shook his head.

“You’ve been avoiding me again-”

“I have not been avoiding you.” Aerys scoffed.

“Really? You haven’t talked to me in days.”

“I haven’t...” Aerys dropped his head, nervously kicking at the dirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just... I want to know what I did to offend you.”

“Nothing!” Aerys snapped, cringing at how loud he was. “I mean, you did nothing wrong, Aegon.”

“So then, what is it?” Aegon asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“It’s just... me.” Aerys frowned, tears welling up in his eyes.

Aegon cupped the boy’s face in his hands. “Look at me, Aerys.”

Aerys bit his lip, keeping his eyes low.

“Please look at me,” he pleaded.

Almost immediately, Aerys found himself relenting. Aerys tilted his head upwards to look upon the prince's face. He stiffened as Aegon ran his thumb over his bottom lip. The boy could feel his heart race as those violet eyes shifted between his eyes and lips. The prince's face seemed almost blank, free from all emotion. Aerys could not tell what he was thinking or feeling until their eyes met again. The look was all too familiar to him. The tenderness, the warmth, the longing... it was the same look he had seen Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin share time and time again.

“ Gevi͡e,” he whispered, brushing his thumb against Aerys lips.

Aerys found himself feeling perplexed by the prince's actions. Was he toying with him?

“I should go...” Aerys whispered.

“That would be wise,” Aegon replied, but neither of them moved.

His right hand slipped around Aerys’ waist and pulled him flush against his chest. Their eyes never left each other, and a small smile tugged at Aegon’s lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Aerys muttered, but Aegon caught it.

Aegon always hung onto his every word. When Aerys spoke, he listened. He didn’t simply nod and hum like everyone else; he listened. That was something Aerys greatly appreciated about him.

“No, we shouldn’t...” Aegon leaned down close and gently pressed their lips together.

Their fingers desperately dug into each other’s clothed skin, wanting to be as close as possible.

Aegon slid his hands off Aerys’ waist. The prince pulled away with a slight shiver, slightly leaning in as if he wanted to kiss him again, but he did not. Instead, he trailed his knuckles along the boy's jaw and down to his chin. The prince’s touch sent a shiver down Aerys' spine, and almost immediately, the realization of what they had just done settled in.

“I have to go,” Aerys exclaimed as he brushed past the prince, not daring to look back at him as he hurried away.

—

Aerys stood outside the large wooden doors of the king’s solar. He fiddled with his ring as Ser Harrold informed the king of his presence. Ser Criston remained at his post, waiting for the king to allow the boy entry. No, he was a man now. Aerys was now six and ten years of age; his name day passed just two days ago. There was no grand celebration, as he did not desire one. The king, however, insisted on hosting a supper with all his family that remained in King's Landing. It had been a rather emotional affair for Aerys. It was the first birthday he had spent without Rhaenyra and the boys. But he managed to keep his emotions at bay until he was alone.

“You may enter, Lord Reyne.” The commander said, holding the door open.

Aerys nodded his head, quickly slipping into the room. The white knight closed the door behind him. The room was cold. Aerys first became aware of the queen’s presence. The woman stood at the fireplace, most likely to keep warm. The king also sat in a chair near the fireplace, staring into the flames. It was the Queen who noticed him first.

“Your grace,” Aerys bowed.

“Aerys, come my boy.” The king greeted warmly, looking away from the fire.

Aerys could see the sadness in his eyes as he approached him. It was no secret how much the king loved his eldest child. He most likely missed Rhaenyra more than Aerys did.

“Sit, sit,” the king insisted, pointing at the chair next to his.

Aerys looked to the queen before hesitantly taking a seat.

“Ser Harrold said you requested an audience with me immediately. Has something happened?”

“Yes- I mean no, nothing has happened. I would like your permission to take my leave.”

The king pulled his head back, his brows furrowed. “Take your leave? What do you mean?”

Aerys' eyes moved to the queen before quickly dropping to the ground. He had not expected the woman to be here. She unnerved him. Sometimes, when she looked at you, it felt like she knew all your secrets. Like there was nothing you could hide from her.

“Alicent, leave us.” The king commanded.

Aerys raised his head, his eyes glancing between the two. Alicent looked at her husband, her eyes slightly widened. She fiddled with her fingers as she walked closer, attempting to attend to the man.

“You’re not feeling well, I should be at your side-”

“I wish to speak with my grandson alone,” he raised his hand, dismissing her.

The queen straightened her back, standing tall. “As you wish, my king.”

The king waited until the door closed behind her to speak.

“If someone has done or said something to make you feel unwelcome at my court-”

“It’s nothing like that, grandfather,” Aerys cut in.

“Then what is it, child?”

The king reached his hand out for Aerys to take. Aerys stared at it. His heart began racing in his chest, his eyes pooling with tears. Aerys slumped to the floor, sitting on his knees. He pressed his forehead against the king’s knuckles. Quiet sobs filled the room as the young man could no longer hold back his tears.

“My boy, what is wrong?!” The king asked, alarmed by the young man’s outburst.

Aerys found himself unable to speak. He did not trust himself enough to speak, afraid he might say too much. The king heaved a weary sigh and moved his hand to caress the young man’s head.

“I think I understand what this is about,” the man said, breathing deeply through his nose.

Aerys felt his body freeze in terror. A chill ran down his spine, making the hair on his body rise. Did he know about him and Aegon? The king moved his hand under the boy’s chin, raising his head. He closed his eyes, silently waiting for the king's anger to surface.

“This is about Rhaenyra, is it not?”

“What?” The young man asked, puzzled by the man’s words.

His eyes opened, and he tilted his head in confusion. The king smiled sadly, his hand still holding the young man’s face.

“I miss her too. She had wished to take you with her, but I refused. Out of selfishness... Out of fear that I was losing all of my grandchildren at once. You are the last piece of your mother I have left. My sweet little Naerys... Sometimes, when I look at you, all I see is her. But now I see how much pain my selfishness has caused you.”

“Grandfather-”

“I permit you to go. Just... try not to forget about this old man.”

“I won’t,” Aerys replied, trying to muster a smile.

The king waved his hand, motioning for a hug. Aerys stood to his feet, carefully maneuvering his arms not to hurt the older man. The hour was growing late. Aerys wanted to leave as soon as possible.

—

The stone was cold against Aerys' back. The sound of crunching bones filled the air as Agana continued tearing into what little remained of the giant pig. He sat with his back against one of the walls of her enclosure, watching as she scarfed down the last piece of the roasted animal. His index finger trailed expertly along his mother’s enameled face, as it had done many times before. The ring seemed to be fitting a bit loosely now. Has he lost weight? If he did, the boy did not notice it.

Aerys laughed as Agana nuzzled her head into his chest. She was attempting to rest her head in his lap, as she had done when she was still young. It seemed they were both unaware of the fleeting years of their youth. Growling in annoyance, the dragon settled to rest her head beside his body. Aerys moved his hand to feel the warmth of her scales.

“It seems like you and I are adults now.”

The she-dragon loudly snorted, turning her head away from him.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it either,” the boy snickered.

Night had come, and the sky looked almost black. The stars had failed to make an appearance. The moon hid behind clouds. A cold wind blew loudly through the city. The grand maester believed a storm was on the way. They would have to leave soon if they wanted to avoid it. The pair would be heading to Dragonstone. The king had granted them leave just a few hours earlier, but Aerys wanted to wait until Agana was well-rested and fed.

“We must be leaving soon, Agana.”

Aerys leaned his head back against the cold stone. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His fingers traced shapes into the dirt beneath him. The kiss from five days ago still weighed heavily on his mind. It seemed to be all he could think about. The two boys hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. Once again, Aerys had retreated into hiding, avoiding Aegon as best as he could. Not that it was difficult. Ser Otto seemed intent on keeping the prince close to his side. Aerys tried to keep himself occupied. He was burying himself in his studies or spending time with Agana. The dragon helped quiet down the noise in his head. Aerys didn’t know how he would survive without her. He doubted that he could.

Aerys pushed himself up to his feet. He used his hand to dust himself off as he moved closer to the cave’s entrance.

“Raise the gate,” he said to the dragon keepers on the other side.

They made no noise, simply nodding their heads. The loud sounds of giant chains clinking together filled the air. The massive gate on the hillside creaked as it lifted. Aerys pulled his riding gloves from his pocket, readying himself to climb to his saddle. As his hands moved to grip the ropes, Agana raised her head. She released a low growl, turning her neck to face the cave entrance, where the dragon keepers stood.

“What is it?” Aerys asked, intrigued by her reaction.

He turned his head just in time to catch a glimpse of messy white hair rushing towards him. The young man stumbled backward, his back hitting against Agana’s side. The she-dragon growled louder, her eyes zeroing in on the prince. Aerys quickly rubbed her scales, assuring her he was alright. The young man turned his head to find Aegon glaring at him. His eyes were dark and filled with anger.

“Leave us!” Aerys commanded the dragon keepers, who quickly bowed before scurrying away.

“How dare you!” The prince spat, pushing him back again.

“You’re leaving?!” He shoved him back again.

“You’re abandoning me!” He cried, hands balling up into fists. “You didn’t even have the fucking decency to tell me?!” His fist punched wildly at Aerys' chest.

Aerys raised his arms, attempting to protect himself from the blows. Agana growled louder, this time baring her teeth. Aerys pushed the prince back, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the cave in fear that Agana would lash out in an attempt to defend him.

“Get the fuck off me!” Aegon yelled as Aerys dragged him down the hall.

When they were out of Agana’s line of sight, Aerys released him. Aegon stumbled backward, hitting the wall with a grunt. Aerys would have been more concerned had he not been so angry.

“What the hell were you thinking? She could have hurt you!” He yelled, furiously running his fingers through his hair.

The young man paced back and forth wildly, trying to calm himself down. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Aegon let his body slide down the wall, dropping to the dirt. The prince broke down into tears, burying his face into his hands. Aerys froze, his heart dropping as he watched the prince's body shake. Painful, broken sobs tore through the prince's throat. Aerys moved to the wall beside him, allowing his body to slide down. He leaned his head back, letting his tears fall. A sharp ache stabbed at his chest, so painful he had to rub a palm over his heart.

Aerys never imagined it would come to this. They were best friends. They laughed together, drank together, and kept each other’s secrets. Now, they're falling apart. Things are different now; they both could feel it. They didn’t laugh like they used to, nor did they smile like they used to. Even the very air around them somehow felt... Different. They had both tried so hard to make things work. They were desperately trying to cling to one another, trying to figure out a way to hold on to their friendship. Aegon turned, pressing his face into Aerys' shoulder. Aerys moved his arm, holding the prince as tightly as he could. He always hated seeing him cry, and he hated knowing he was the cause of it. He hated knowing that he would have to let him go, that he would have to leave him behind.

“Please don’t go!” He cried.

“I’m sorry,” Aerys whispered.

It was all he could say. He hated that. He hated that he couldn’t say more. But once again, the fear of saying too much gnawed at his mind. It was better this way, he told himself. That seemed to be something he has said a lot lately. Perhaps he thought he would actually believe it if he said it enough times. Aerys pressed his lips to the prince’s hair, taking one last deep inhale. He was trying to memorize the prince's scent. Desperate to have something of Aegon’s to take with him.

Aerys grabs the prince’s hands, which have dug into his clothed waist. He pushes them back into the prince’s lap. Aegon cries harder as he feels Aerys slipping away from his grasp. Aerys pushed himself up to stand. The prince pulled his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around himself, resting his head on his knees. Aerys looked away, focusing his gaze on the dirt covering his boots. He couldn’t look at the prince. If he did, Aerys feared losing what little resolve he had left. He feared he would rush to Aegon’s side, pull him into his arms, and promise he would never leave him. This is for the best.

With a shuddering sigh, Aerys turned away. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as he walked back to Agana’s cave. Aegon called out his name, his voice breaking as he pleaded for him to stay. Aerys felt like crying and screaming at the same time. He closed his eyes, hoping to block out the noise. When he opened his eyes, his gaze immediately fell upon Agana. Aerys was quick to climb upon the dragon’s back. He had to go now. One second longer, and he feared he would turn back. His gloved hand rubbed over Agana’s silver scales.

“Fly, my dragon."

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