Chapter Text
Aegon blames Aemond. He totally blames Aemond, because he has this absurd obsession with their second nephew and mother feeds it. She never got over the fact that Lucerys got away with taking Aemond’s eye that night. Never mind that he got Vhagar for it, or that he had broken Luke’s nose and Jace’s head and had hit little girls like a coward. They are always so bitter.
So when the opportunity comes for revenge, a bitter old second son wanting his shot for his dying older brother’s throne, she ceases it. She will kill two birds with one stone. She will avenge her precious half-blind baby boy and humiliate Lucerys, taking him inheritance away from him, and she will delegitimize Rhaenyra and her children for all to see.
Not that it makes much difference. So what if she has three alleged bastards? So does Aegon if the rumors are to be believed. He has no idea. You fuck enough whores when you are out of your mind drunk in whatever they give you in those seedy taverns, he does not keep up with it. He rarely remembers until he is throwing up in the alley being carried back by Criston, Arryk or Erryk or whoever the fuck.
And his sister clearly has another two very legitimate kids with her new uncle-husband, two sons there are more Targaryen than Aegon and all his siblings combined, and she is pregnant again, because apparently all they do in Dragonstone is fuck. Aegon in this time also miserably had two kids with his sister, but they came as a package deal and are the result one miserable night. They do not even share a bed to sleep, let alone do anything else. Sometimes he gets drunk, and they braid each other’s hairs like they are children again, but he can barely look at her without knowing their mother ruined their lives taking them to the Sept. He should have asked for Rhaenyra to just end him that day instead of waiting for their father to die.
A death that is coming soon, because his miserable grandfather is now playing house at his throne, and they are planning on beating Vaemond Velaryon off in there and gift him the richest house in the realm just to prove to all of the Lords that big sister is a whore.
Which is why he blames Aemond for having to get ready to stand there, in front of the court to watch this shit and he could be drinking his weight in shitty wine and trying to never wake up. It is a game he plays and so far, he has never won. They are getting ready, all of them in their perfect green outfits with golden stars. Well, Aemond is wearing black, because he has no joy in life beyond sucking happiness from others.
They get there, grandfather sitting at the throne, smiling because they all know it will not matter what Rhaenyra has to say in her defense. They all know who will get Driftmark now. There they are. The whole family unit. His pretty sister, her pose like she is above all of them, perfectly tailored black dress that reveals more cleavage than any of the women of his side of the family, even though she is pregnant, as it is made clear by the bump shown under the dark fabric clinging to it. Behind her, the husband, exuding as much power as she does, the infamous ancestral sword by his hip, also wearing dark clothes and his hatred to all of them is clear in his dashing Valyrian features. The purest of all of them, two Targaryen parents.
Aegon is not one to be obsessed by Valyrian features, usually. Helaena and Aemond have nothing special to them. The most interesting thing about his brother’s face is the scar their nephew had given him in childhood. Still, they are here, as Hightowers, the family their mother raised them as.
Real dragons, well, Daemon and Rhaenyra are just that. Standing tall and proud, her two sons and his uncle’s daughter behind them. They also know what the results will be, but they are leaving it clear they are going to fight it.
In the end they do not need it, because their father arrives to fight for them, shames Otto Hightower off his throne and at the end, Lucerys is the heir, his nephews are all betrothed and Vaemond Velaryon has his head on the floor, cut in half by Daemon and his ancestral sword. Aegon is impressed that his sister has this level of loyalty. That she inspires it. Their father dragged his decaying body off his bed, clearly in pain and with great difficulty, just to help her and her children. And Daemon is there, like a menacing shadow, an impressive figure, menacing just beside her. He kills the man who dares to insult her.
Aegon thinks of someone doing this for him in this family. For him, not whatever plan they have for him about the damn throne. No one would. Instead, he is infused with ideas he does not want to follow and is shamed and kicked down when he strays from that. He drowns in his cups to cope with the path he has to follow. A sham of a marriage with his weird sister, children he does not know how to take care off.
Now he has to go to a stupid dinner, where his mother acts like she does not pray nightly for Rhaenyra’s demise and they are all sitting and toasting for his nephews' successes and stupid betrothals to women they seem to like and do not spend their days catching bugs.
He watches her. Them. Even between his taunts to Jacaerys, or the arrival of his father, his stupid toast wanting to bring them together like they have not been broken since the start. He watches as she laughs because of what their uncle tells her, as he holds her delicate fingers, adorned with luxurious rings, drops a kiss to them. Catches his breath when their hands, hold together, goes for her pregnant belly as they look adoringly to it. Babe is moving, certainly.
Jacaerys is dancing with his wife and he can barely care now. Yes, it was a humiliation, that stupid speech his nephew gave trying to be the superior man and then Helaena making a mockery out of their marriage. It was a complete joke and everyone knew but still it stings to see her giggle about it at the table.
It is almost as addictive than wine and sex, to watch them. They moved in unison, they co-existed almost as one. She would offer him a thing and he would hand her another. There was fire in his eyes for her and there was softness in her smiles for him and Aegon envied, but he also wanted it for himself. Both of those and from the both of them. He wants her to brush his hair and intertwine her fingers to his but he also wants her to ride his face and to fuck her from behind while caressing her pregnant belly. He wants him to punch whatever person bothers him when he is buzzed and relaxed at the tavern, to maybe kill his grandfather the next time he kicks Aegon in the ribs with the hard tip of his boots. But he also wants his uncle to throw him against a wall and call him a bitch, force him to his knees and demand to be service.
He almost startles when Aemond does what he does best. Ruin things.
And that is why it is his fault.
Her completely ruins dinner and Aegon’s internal ramblings about his sister and her husband, about them making Aegon feel desired and loved. It was a new fantasy to have.
To be fair to his brother, Aegon does no help when he decides to hit Lucerys’ head against the table trying to irritate his sister. Whatever, the thing is ruined and the guards are holding them and Aemond is continuing being a bitch. The moment Daemon intervenes, just staring big bad Aemond into submission with a sigh, Aegon almost drops to his knees. He wants to.
Instead, he just watches as his mother continues to be fake to Rhaenyra and she goes to retire by her chambers. The moment they are gone, his mother blames it all on him. Sure, he did make a few idiotic comments, but it was Aemond. Her precious boy.
“Look at this. She was just praised by the King in his first appearance in months in front of the court. All of them saw it, we were humiliated. Months we were planning it with the council.” His grandfather complains to his mother. Aegon is going to him room, he had a bottle of stronger wine there, maybe he can drink himself to death. Or at least dream about his sister and his uncle. “You were a stupid one. You never supported my idea to marry Aegon to Rhaenyra back then, Viserys could have been convinced. Also, denying Jacaerys to Helaena. It will be hard now that he is dying but still supports here beyond all else.”
Aegon stops breathing for a second. Marry him to Rhaenyra? When that had been an idea? His sister was almost a woman grown when he had been born. She would have had to wait a long while until he could fulfill his duty as a husband and give her a son. Yet, he has been bedding women for a long while now and she still bears children to her husband. She is full with his child right at this moment and that child could be Aegon’s.
He laughs bitterly when walking at the corridors to his chambers.
Aegon Targaryen could have been with Rhaenyra. He would have been her consort, doing nothing besides fucking her full of babes to be their heirs. She would be the one to rule, he does not care at all. He might even be a good father if she could teach him. Her sons obviously worshiped her. The same cannot be said about his feelings for his own mother, that wench. He hates her.
Then again, she was never good to Aegon. Not in a moment where he can remember. What he remembers of her are her screams, her hand stinging against his cheek, her nails digging at his jaw, all the times she left him alone in the room to be disciplined by grandfather. Shaking him awake when he drinks too much and passes out around town and Criston or one of the other lapdogs has to drag his ass home. Making a spectacle out of himself, she says.
He downs a cup of wine.
Married to Rhaenyra.
Two cups.
Her consort.
That was almost too good to be true. If Rhaenyra is every bit the whore that his mother tells them, she would be perfect. She is a dragon as well, a rider. Aegon closes his eyes and smiles as he imagines her riding him. Rhaenyra is beautiful, with her ethereal Valyrian beauty, but also with all the curves that all her children gave her. Supple breasts, wide hips and full thighs, strong from decades of dragon riding. She could probably choke him as she sat on his face. He is sure she would taste amazing. The Realm’s Delight. And in that universe, her children would have been his, he would be the one to make her body like that, to caress her round belly, to eat her through her bouts of extreme desire during pregnancy. That had happened to Helaena and maybe Aegon taught her how to pleasure herself so he would not have to. He was not a good husband, that was fair, but he tried as a brother. They did not enjoy themselves together, and she had no liberties as he did. Sadly, his wife was not of his tastes.
She was not Rhaenyra.
Three cups. Four.
The whole bottle.
He is not drunk, barely buzzed, but he feels good despite the bad hand the universe has dealt him. A religious-obsessed frigid bitch of a mother. Whatever one would categorize Otto Hightower as a grandfather. Married to Helaena, a sister he did not desire. And now lusting after Rhaenyra, a sister he could have had, and his uncle Daemon, a guy that has never cared for him.
He has what he wants. He is what he wants.
Rhaenyra could have been his.
But even now, Rhaenyra with their uncle by her side. He wonders how he fucks her. He hears stories about the Rogue Prince, the Lord of Flea Bottom. He was a beast and Aegon would want to see him in action. He looked good despite his age. Only a handful of years between Daemon and his father and yet it looked like decades. Her was also a dragon and a warrior. Aegon could imagine how could it would be to be held down by him, his rough hands putting him on his place.
He is up and out of his room before he can talk himself out of it.
The whole way to the side where he knows it used to be Rhaenyra’s quarters, he has to breathe deeply and try not to drown in his sea of fantasies. He sees them perfectly. In his mind, Daemon is rough only when she asks. She is one that needs to be worshiped carefully, a great beauty, like the most delicate moonbloom, perfect like winter roses. The prince would touch her reverently, as she is his future queen, devour her slowly, feast on her moans and whimpers. Careful. Especially now that she carries their child. Still, he would obey her when she urges his to go deeper, to give it to her harder. Rhaenyra was a dragon and they are ravenous beasts.
All they want is to possess.
Still, his mother always told him that Rhaenyra fears him, for he is a challenge. He needs to show her that he is not, he needs her to know that he will be by her side and he wants the chance to show her that. To show them that he is not against him like the rest of their family. He does not even know why he is feeling like this, but it is too much and he needs them to know.
He approaches the part where all their quarters are and he sees unfamiliar guards where he knows the children are staying. He remembers going to get Jacaerys from his chambers so they could play pranks on Aemond, Lucerys often with them as children.
The door where Rhaenyra’s personal quarters are is huge and there is a guard there as well. He looks at him, shocked to see him there. “I came to speak with my sister, she had left word of it for me to come after supper. I have something to discuss with her about our father.”
“She has not told me anything.”
“What do you think I am going to do. I am her brother, but obviously our sides of the family have not understood each other for a while. It was a spur of the moment and she has our uncle there to protect her, does she not? You can accompany me to the door of her bed chambers.”
Rhaenyra must inspire loyalty because the man does what he suggests and he takes him to the door of her bed chambers and knocks. It is not the princess that opens the door, but her husband. He is dressed down now, only his breeches and a light shirt. Aegon’s breath catches when he can see burn scars under it, adorning his neck and part of his chest.
He looks surprised to see him. “Ser Vincent.”
“Prince Aegon says he must talk to Her Grace, my prince.”
Daemon raises his brow. “Does he? Well, you can leave him to me. I will take you to my dear wife so they can discuss whatever it is the young prince here has to say.” He smiles at the man, but his eyes are on Aegon. Predatory, harsh. Aegon practically salivates. The guard just nods and leaves them to go back to his post by the door. “Are you lost, nephew?”
He almost says he was. “No, uncle. I have come here with a purpose.” He tells him as they continue to chat by the door.
It is then that he hears. A soft call for the prince. “Daemon?” His sister, Rhaenyra, is there. And she is gorgeous. Her braids are undone and her hair cascades in light curls, silver just like his and Daemon’s. She is wearing a dark silk robe and the fabric is loose on her body, but she hugs with tightly closed when she realizes they have company. Her eyes pierce his very being. “Aegon.”
“Rhaenyra.” He says, because he is her brother. He has never called her that, so informal, but he has been imagining her whimpers of his name as she trembles between him and their uncle and he cannot hold his tongue.
“Has something happened with father?”
He is surprised by the question. Of course, she would jump to this conclusion, that he was sent because their dying father finally took his last breath. “No, nothing to my knowledge, sister.” Her eyes go wide when he calls her that. “I came to talk to you. Both of you.”
Aegon has no idea what he is to say. Daemon goes near her, still keeping his eyes on Aegon and he hugs her close, his hand behind her, settling by her waist, the other goes for her pregnant belly, caressing her growing babe. He swallows the need that comes with many of his fantasies. “You can tell us, Aegon.”
He might be panicking a little and their gaze is so intense it makes him restless. Then it just clicks inside his head and he just falls.
Right to his knees. But he is aware of what it looks, he settles in a better posture, bends one knee and settles his hands on his thigh. He is looking down, scared of what he will see when he looks up at them, but he wants too much.
Aegon just looks at them.
“Despite my behavior at dinner tonight, sister, I just want you to know that I do not plan to be a challenge and if you want me gone tonight, I will leave. But I do not want to go, I do not want and |I shall not do anything but to serve you, my queen.”
Daemon and Rhaenyra are taken aback and they share a look. “You do not plan to be a challenge? What do you mean, Aegon?”
Oh. He was wrong, then? Will she kill him now? That would certainly upset their father, no? To have her deemed a kinslayer while he is still alive, even if just barely. He flinches when Daemon takes a step closer and the fear must be clear in his eyes. “Look at me, Aegon.”
He does and he shows everything. He is easy to ready, at least that is what Helaena tells him. He shows his intense emotions very clearly. It is not like he has a huge range of them, he is usually either drowning in fear, filled with lust or dead behind his eyes. Right now, he feels alive, even if he is about to die. He desires fiercely and he is very scared.
But he looks up and he watches as his uncle observes him, notices when he seems to draw a conclusion and then he chuckles. “Oh, I know what he wants, my love. He wants to serve us, indeed.”
Rhaenyra frowns. “Aegon?”
“You are not going to kill me?” He asks and his voice is small.
This time even Daemon is confused, but it soon changes to anger. “Who told you we would, boy?”
He opens his mouth, but says nothing. They all know who. “Is that what they have been telling you, Aegon? That you need to challenge me to survive?” Rhaenyra is angry now, like a dragon. And yet, he knows for sure she is not mad at him. “I would not kill you unless you were to force my hand, brother.”
“Am I not a challenge, though? Just by...” He stops, takes a deep breath to forget the sensation of his mother’s nails digging in his jaw and cheeks as she screams. “Just by living and breathing.”
Danger flashes in their eyes, but then Daemon steps closer. “All of them are sworn to Rhaenyra, little one. Any move one is to make to come between that is treason and they shall be named traitors to the realm. We are kin, Aegon. We are the blood of the dragon and we only care for our own. Everyone else is beneath us. You do not have to do anything they say, you can join us and you can be free.”
Aegon whimpers as he closes his eyes, a shiver running through his spine. He wants that. He hears Daemon light chuckle and then he opens his eyes, even Rhaenyra has changed her semblance. They are all on the same page now and Aegon still is one his knees. “Do you want me with you?”
They all seem to freeze with how needy his voice sounds. Rhaenyra has her gaze fixed on him now and Daemon is the one to then brush his hair off his face. “Such a pretty boy. I swear that my brother has such beautiful heirs. The oldest ones. Don’t you think so, Aegon? That King Viserys’ heir is the most delicious thing in the whole realm. You know, they call her Realm’s Delight, but that she is only to me. But I can see you would like a taste. I might let you, but you would need to be good to me as well.”
The moan escapes his throat before he can even think of an answer. Rhaenyra is the most affected, she is frozen in place but her features show pleasure and Aegon can see the shape of her hard nipples under the silk. Oh. “I’ll be good, uncle.”
“I know you will, pet.” He smiles, then his hand prompts Aegon to look up when it presses against his chin. “You just want to be taken care of, right? Just want to please us. But you were naughty, interrupting us. The queen is very much inflamed with lust, pregnancy is making her very needy for a specific type of attention. One I was ready to give her when you arrived.”
Oh.
“Sorry.” He looks away and Daemon brings him to face him again.
“No need to apologize this time, now you know better and you can help. Rhaenyra would love if you were to help us. She is a lot to handle. A ravishing queen like her, all those sensuous curves, alluring ivory skin, luscious rosy lips. Oh, you will see, she deserves only the best venerating her. Maybe if you prove you are good, you can have her too. Isn’t that right, love?” Rhaenyra comes closer.
She looks like the goddess of fertility, now with the silk slipping freely and Aegon can see the slight flush at the curve of her breast, the peach hardened nipple under it. “What do you want, Aegon?”
Too much. He dares not ask for all that floods his mind the minute she poses the question. He will not scare them now, not when he has gotten this close. “I want to make you both feel good, I want to please you, my queen.”
The absolutely wicked smile on her face makes him tremble. “That is very good, darling. Maybe you should help our uncle then. Your interruption has caused a distraction and a queen would love to see her men work for her viewing pleasure. You are already on your knees, Aegon.” She seats on a chair close by where they are, letting go of her robes, untying the belt of it, the silk sliding away to show her growing belly as the valley between her breasts.
Aegon nods and looks up at his uncle, who puts a strand of his hair behind his ears. “Go ahead, dear nephew.” Daemon encourages it and he does not waste any time, not wanting them to change their minds, wanting to show him that he is a good one, for them to keep. His hands eagerly undo the laces of his breeches and he gulps looking right at his cock. It matches all of what his uncle represents, thick, long and proud, half-hard, the head flushed. Aegon licks his lips. “Make me hard, Aegon.”
He groans at the demand but obeys, still on his knees in front of the man, his grip already on his cock, pumping tightly, watching with fascination as the foreskin moves, exposing the head even more, angry red and with precum gathering at the tip, just inviting him to lick if off, to have a taste. This Aegon knows, it’s perhaps his only talent. Being sexually depraved enough to try everything, being a quick study when it comes to it. Liking both to suck cock and eat cunt, being generous with it. He wants to suck his uncle, he is good for it, he loves doing it, having that savory bitter taste in his tongue, licking them clean of pleasure. A moan comes when he finally tastes, eyes fluttering, full silver lashes brushing against his rosy cheeks as he stares.
The teasing does not last long, because he can gather Daemon is not a patient man, rages from the sting of where he grabs his hair. He smiles, tongues the tip against, sucking in the taste and then goes swallowing around the head and sucking more eagerly, hums around it as he drinks in that intense gaze, feasts on his rough hand fisted on his silver hair. His uncle has his eyes lit in flames of danger, intense, his jaw clenched. Aegon preens, relaxes his throat and goes forward, taking the entirety of that delicious cock inside his mouth. He is gagging for it, goes faster than he should, but knowing he can handle it, his tongue pressing against the velvety feel of him. He wants to please the man, wants to show he is worth it, can feel his harden even more against his tongue, inside his mouth. It makes fire start inside of his lower abdomen.
Aegon wants to make his uncle fall apart in his mouth, so he goes for his ass, grabbing with purpose, all hard muscle and shoves him forward, all wanton groans when the tip hit the back of his throat harshly, and it hurts so good as he breathes through his nose, fights to suppress his gag reflex, which barely is trigger now that he has a few men he does this regularly with. Even when it does get triggered, he loves it, almost choking on their dicks.
He relishes on Daemon’s features, his clear pleasure. Aegon wants more, he moves, squeezes his thumb into his first, starts with bobbing his head slowly, trying not to get too much at the time. He needs to be on his best performance now. Needs them to see him.
Bobbing his head again and again in an endless eager motion, he goes to the hilt, buries his nose on his lower stomach, silver hair at his crotch, he swallows around his shaft, hollowing in his cheeks and not letting go until there are tears and his eyes and he pulls away harshly, breathing heavily and coughing a bit, spit dribbling down his chin, cheeks stained with water and salt.
Daemon growls, with a hard, tight grip on Aegon’s hair and he thrusts him hips forward as soon as he tries to take his dick back into his mouth, not giving him one second to relax and he moans happily around it, eyes glazed, because he loves the rough treatment. It feels different somehow, there is something else on his uncle’s eyes, now deep and dark violet and sparkling with intensity. He loves the almost painful feel each thrust leaves on his throat and the ache of his jaw, getting hisses out of his uncle when he lightly scrapes his with his teeth, just a hint and he knows that a sick bastard like Daemon would love it, as he sucks and swirls his tongue, trails this thick vein on the underside.
He feels then a hand on his jaw, at the very edge, just pressing with soft fingertips, coaxing him to open up more and Daemon pulls him by the hair, head dropping back and he thrusts one more time, hitting the back of his throat with force and then pulling out. Aegon complains with displeased noises and a pout, feeling his lips swollen and slicked with spit and drops of precum that he hums as he tastes it again. “I can take it.”
That’s when he hears a light laugh and it is Rhaenyra and she looks enticed. Daemon forces Aegon to stand and looks down at his tented pants. “I am sure you can, darling. But we have other plans now, for you.” He gets closer to Rhaenyra, whispers something to her that has her flushing even more and she nods, pulling him for a kiss as she walks to the bed, dropping the robe on the way there.
Aegon is not ready to see it, all very curves, a mature woman who is carrying a child of the man he just had inside his mouth. He salivates for some reason. “She is beautiful.” He says and immediately feels stupid, because it is the most obvious thing. She looks like a goddess, long silver curls flowing down, all pale ivory skin, completely naked and lying between the pillows, waiting. Full with child, her breasts swollen and he imagines if would he taste milk already if he was to devour her rose nipples.
“That is our queen, Aegon. She is the most precious. I only want what is best for her, so you will sit here by the bed,” he says as he carries a chair with one hand, guiding Aegon with another. “And you will watch me worship her like she deserves. You will help me decide what to give her and you will do nothing else but to answer me when I speak. If you do that, refrain yourself from coming untouched in your breeches like a green boy, we will give you a reward. Take off your clothes.”
He does under their watchful violet eyes and they both have smiles in their faces, Daemon grabs the silk belt of Rhaenyra’s fallen robe and ties Aegon’s hands behind his back and sits him on the chair, squatting down between his legs and reaching him at eye level, before pulling him for one of the dirtiest kisses Aegon has shared. Filthy. Daemon does not warn him, he just invades his mouth with his tongue, warm and demanding, groaning at his own taste one the boy’s lips, biting one it to leave them even more swollen, sucking on the taste of his tongue.
Then he leaves as swiftly as he arrived and sheds his clothes as well. Aegon catches his breath watching all of his scars. There are a lot of them, mostly burn scars and it mesmerizes him.
Rhaenyra must agree because she rises when he is kneeling into the bed and she brushes her fingers reverently at all the blemishes on his skin and leaves kisses on his shoulder, his chest, her eyes meeting Aegon’s. She smiles then, bending down a bit to trail kisses on his torso and then her delicate hands wrap around him and she just tongue the tip, gaze still on him.
It brings shivers up his spine. They are sharing a gesture and Daemon groans, close his eyes and coming to the same conclusion. He brings Rhaenyra closer, brushes the hair to fall on her back, exposes her full breasts and he leaves a kiss right at her breastbone, between those great mounds and one hand pinches her hard nipple and Aegon watches as she trembles and he takes the other one in his mouth and she arches her back, pressing her pregnant belly against his palm as he smiles.
Aegon is mesmerized by the delicate way Daemon touches his sister. He lies her softly on the bed, but then parts her legs a bit more forcefully, angles so Aegon can see her dripping cunt exposed before he puts her knees against his shoulders and dives to eat her. She moans deeply, her voice so commanding and it burns like the most scorching flame inside his veins as he watches.
Daemon also knows what he is doing, as wanton in eating her as Aegon had been in swallowing down his cock. He works her with a desperate tongue and expert fingers and she clings her hands to his hair, writhing on the bed between moans, her chest moving, her bely big.
She trembles when she comes but Daemon does not let’s her go, he keeps going until she tries to complain, but shuts her eyes with force, jaw going slack as she whimpers loudly, pulling on his hair harshly. Her husband smiles and they both look at Aegon, still not moving and just watching and trying to will himself not to come. He has some training in that, he likes delayed gratification. He thanks the Gods or whoever for that.
Daemon glistens in her juices, lips red as he grins. “How do you think I should have her, Aegon. You know, when she is full with my child, she gets so needy and also very much sensitive, so easy to please multiple times if you know what you are doing. I had given her one before you arrived and now two more, but she still craves for it. How should I give it to her, nephew? What does your sister deserve?”
Aegon clears his throat, surprised. All the fantasies come to his head at the same time and he tries to separate them, find his favorite. There is an obvious answer and that is the one that he tells them, both eager to hear him. “She is our prodigy rider. Maybe she should show us how she rides a dragon.”
His uncle seems pleased with his answer, like Aegon has passed a test he has set up. He watches, amazed, as he helps Rhaenyra to position herself on his lap, both of them with their sides shown to Aegon. The belly isn’t the biggest it could be. Aegon remembers Helaena with the twins, much bigger. Rhaenyra is not in her final stages yet, but she has some difficult moving with the larger bump, but she still has strength in her thighs, years of riding dragons, whatever way one shall interpret the sentence. She rises, positions his cock between her legs and she settles, going down slowly, enveloping her husband inside her folds. Aegon wants to close his eyes to get his bearings, but he barely wants to blink.
Rhaenyra is a wild one, she barely takes a breath before setting a pace. She plants her hands to his chest and she rolls her hips, the belly dragged with her movements, Daemon helping her, steading her with his hands. She takes a while to rise more with her knees, her body heavier than it usually is, but Daemon guides her through it as she starts to bounce on his cock, breasts moving and jumping with her, but contained under her arms, that beautiful belly the focal point as it rubs on Daemon and Aegon just watches her, throat dry and cock twitching. He has never been this hard, possibly. It is almost like all his whoring was a training for this moment. He can’t even hold himself at the base, squeeze for calm as she changes the position, arches her back, belly going forward, breasts in full view now.
“Aegon, she is so warm and tight, can you imagine?” Daemon asks as he guides his hand between her legs, rubs her on that delicious stop and her hips falter, her pace suffers but she powers through, continues to ride her husband like the accomplished dragonrider that she is, her ethereal face filled with pleasure, her light hairs sticking to her as a fine layer of sweat covers her body and she practically glows because of it.
Still, she is clearly getting tired and Aegon can only imagine how it must feel to carry a child everywhere you go with you for many moons. Daemon holds her hips and moves upwards, hitting something inside of her that makes her keen to roll her own hips again, also rubbing herself to his hand right there between her thighs.
He can pinpoint when she comes again as her body go lax and she melts a bit, Daemon sitting up and hugging her, guiding her hips to still move and he just lies her to her side, right on Aegon’s view and takes her from behind, now with much more speed and force, one hand caging her pregnant belly, the other holding her legs in a position where he can go deep inside of her and she mewls like an annoyed feline, a bit feral from the pleasure, her purple eyes all foggy as she stares at Aegon, mouth opened as she pants and Daemon just groans behind her, buried inside her cunt and he filled her with his seed.
Again, one more time, even if she is already carrying him child. It must feel amazing, to paint Rhaenyra with his release, to finish inside of her hoping she will give him a child. A dragon prince or princess. “Come here, boy.” Daemon orders as he pulls out of her and she is lying spent, but her eyes burn against him. “Maybe you can taste her now, kneel before the queen.”
Aegon does not even trust his legs, but Daemon rises and comes get him, frees his wrists and he winces when he sees the marks. Just barely, it feels a little sore, in a delicious way and he might have tries to go free, because it wasn’t a very tight prison, but maybe he had used the pain to distract him. He is still painfully hard, and Daemon looks right at his erection, licks his lips.
Gods.
“All in good time, nephew. First you need to kneel between her legs, have a taste.” He urges Aegon and he does not need to be told again, because he is eager to try her.
Them.
He pulls on her legs, props them against his shoulder and helps her, parting them for access, watching his uncle’s seed, the one that he wasn’t to taste, trickling down, gathering there, sticky in her inner thighs. He just dives in, tongue flat against her folds, a little suck on her clit as she whimpers, relishing on the bitter taste of Daemon, but feeling a bit of tartness there, ravenous to feel only her juices. So he continues, swallow all of their uncle had to offer right from her cunt, moves eagerly with his tongue, his fingers pressing on her soft thighs, her skin so smooth and warm, but there are strong muscles underneath, dragonrider ones.
“Doesn’t she taste amazing, Aegon?” Daemon asks and he nods, tongue lapping up on her and he sees that Daemon moves around them to suck on her nipples, two hard pebbles and he stimulates her expediently as she tries to chase both feelings, shoving her breasts towards her husband and rubbing her cunt against Aegon’s face, as she moves her hips. “Just wait, she is almost there. You will taste heaven, boy. Do not finish.”
Aegon does not dare to disobey, so he gives Rhaenyra his all, sucks on her clit, fingers exploring her folds, rubbing in her inner walls, in that rugged spot, until she floods his mouth. Honey from a queen, just delicious it sets his mind in a blank canvas. He just stays there as she pulls on his hair and forces his to stay with his head between her legs, crushed on her thighs.
Heaven.
His uncle wasn’t wrong and he has to grasp on the base of his dick, pressing hard not to finish, remembering the orders, eager to see what the Rogue Prince has in store for him.
Aegon is drowning in Rhaenyra, just so lost in her taste and warmth that he does not notice that he is being manhandled in the bed. Rhaenyra is lying comfortable in her pillows, watching as Daemon positions her brother in their bed. “Such a good boy, Aegon. Do you want to be our good boy?”
He nods, desperately. “Yes, my queen.” He manages, but his voice sounds like is muffled as he is trying to tell her underwater.
“Will you come with us to Dragonstone then? We leave on the morrow. We can take care of you, Aegon. You do not need to fear being a challenge, you will be yours. To take care of, to fuck senseless, to keep.” Daemon offers the reward and Aegon keens. And then he feels the warmth wetness around his cock and looks down, sees Daemon taking him into his mouth, looks to the side, sees Rhaenyra watching with a small smile.
She looks so beautiful, her hands running through his hair, but his eyes fly back to Daemon as he expertly pleasures him, taking him with ease inside his mouth, knowing exactly what to do and it warms low in his abdomen, builds that thrill and he groans when Daemon throws his legs open, fingers playing with his balls and then going even lower, trailing behind, pressing his perineum, sending white flashes in his vision, finger tips just circling and pressing inside and Aegon imagines having him inside of him while he is inside Rhaenyra, or having them both just using him, Daemon driving into him while his sister, his queen, rides his face.
The light pressure of breaching of two finger tips coated with saliva take him to the brink, he is already so denied and he just feels it, warned his uncle but he stays there, swallows it all, keeping Aegon’s hips to the bed, before pulling out and crawling, caging him before his body, going for a kiss with Rhaenyra and she moans, melts into the kiss. And then Daemon comes to Aegon, and kisses him too and feeds him a bit of his own seed and now he groans against his lips when he realizes that Rhaenyra was moaning from his taste.
Their kiss lasts a while and then Daemon orders him to kiss Rhaenyra and Aegon is lost between all of their tastes and their warmth. “Come with us, Aegon.” She asks and Aegon preens, because this is better than just marrying her. He craves Daemon as well, he craves them together, their family, their protection. He wants to be a part.
He is there, caged between them and Daemon his pressing his body against Aegon’s back and they both face Rhaenyra. He guides their hands to her belly. It is incredibly soft. “Come with us.”
“Yes.” He tells them. Rhaenyra is their queen, and Daemon is their king consort and Aegon is something to the both of them. He loves it, he can be anything as long as he is theirs.
It is the easiest answer he has ever given.