Chapter Text
Aegon had fled Vaes Dothrak the moment he'd been coherent enough to do so.
It had not been quick enough.
"You hear about the Targaryen's omega prince?"
His hand twitched, fork faltering halfway to his mouth. The Westerosi traders in Norvos all frequented the same tavern.
"The dead one or the live one?"
He forced himself to take the bite of food, chewing slowly as the bartender spoke with the man beside him at the bar.
"Ah, they might both be alive actually," the trader grinned wide and the bartender blinked. A tankard of brown mead was set before the man.
"I'm listening," the bartender quirked a brow. Aegon glanced their way, taking another bite of his meal. With a chuckle, the bartender gestured towards him, "You've even got Baelon's attention."
Flushing, Aegon ducked his head. He smiled shyly up at the trader, fluttering his lashes as he shifted in his seat.
And now Baelon had the trader's attention too.
His eyes barely looking at Aegon's face as he surveyed him. The bartender smirked as Aegon's scent shifted in the air. Just a little.
"Well, if Baelon's interested..." the man purred and Aegon nodded mutely, head bobbing up and down. A hand squeezed at his thigh.
"I was in Tyrosh when the prince died. His dragon was writhing in the air, breathing fire everywhere!" Aegon said breathily, eyes wide as he leaned closer. He took hold of the man's arm, fingers stroking at his bicep. "I've wanted to see a dragon up close ever since!"
The trader laughed, ordering Aegon a glass of wine. He turned in his seat, tossing an arm over the back the chair so Aegon's hands fell to his lap.
"Well, if you come to Pentos, you might just get your wish." A hand ghosted over Aegon's back, just above the blade strapped to his body beneath his doublet "Been more dragons there lately than there was before the Doom."
Aegon made a show of his mouth dropping open. He arched his brows and shifted forward, sitting on the edge of his seat. His palms squeezed at the man's thighs. Just below his hardening cock. He gasped, "Really?!"
"That golden beast, the prince's dragon, he put on another show out in the Dothraki Sea I guess."
"Aye, I heard about that," the bartender piped up, setting a cup of wine in front of Aegon. "Do the Targaryens think the prince is alive just because of that?" A Dornish red. Not what the trader had ordered for him.
Sipping at it, Aegon flashed the man a quick smile. He couldn't stand Norvoshi wine. Dorne was not the Arbor, but it was good enough. Or, their wine was anyway.
"Prince Daemon has been searching for years actually," the trader said and Aegon choked on his wine. "Careful, Baelon," a thumb swiped over his lip as he pulled the cup away and he blushed, "Drink slow now."
Nodding slowly, Aegon lied, "I don't drink much." He pushed a hand through his hair. Recently dyed dark again.
The stray curls he'd left over his face were tucked behind his ear by the trader as Aegon watched him through his lashes, "Even more reason for such a pretty boy to go slow." The man smirked, "Never know who might take advantage."
His story about Daemon flying off on Caraxes the moment he heard Aegon might be alive was an obvious fabrication, but the rest rang true enough. Ravens flying back and forth from the Red Keep and Dragonstone to Pentos as the Rogue Prince investigated rumors.
"The Princess of Dragonstone has never believed her brother dead!" the trader's voice slurred a bit, barking with laughter as the others in the tavern joined in a chorus of protests or agreements.
"Why'd she name her youngest after him then huh?!" "No one believed that horseshit! The Volantese never even rescinded their bounty!"
Aegon was perched in the trader's lap, played drunk after his second glass of wine. He giggling into the man's chest and listened closely as his story grew more and more outrageous.
"Surely the king isn't offering *that* much gold?!" Aegon gasped as the trader waved a hand about, nodding emphatically. He was actually drunk.
"The prince's weight in gold in exchange for his safe return!" A hand squeezed at his ass and Aegon startled, descending into more giggles as the man purred, "Read the offer myself. Rogue Prince was practically shouting it at every trader on their way out of the city."
He nuzzled into the man's throat. The story shifted, with Daemon tasking the man to spread the news personally. Every second Aegon sat in his lap, the trader became better and better friends with the king's brother.
The others around the tavern shouted him down, calling out his lies.
Exchanging a look with the bartender, Aegon bit his lip. He fluttered his lashes at the trader and kissed his cheek. Voice low, Aegon rocked his hips, whispering in the man's ear, "Perhaps you could tell me more about the prince... in private?"
Aegon had rented a room from the owner, but he let the trader drag him into the back instead. A few whistles followed his stumbling steps. He blushed shyly as he was shoved against the wall.
"Ever been with a man before, boy?" the man chuckled, mouthing at his jawline. Aegon whined. With a soft gasp as the man tugged at his laces, Aegon shook his head.
He was turned around, crowded against the wall. The man was grinding into his ass. Cock hard and throbbing. Aegon rocked back, making a point to pant loudly, to moan so his voice echoed a bit off the walls.
"Sweet little thing like you," the trader groaned, kissing at Aegon's neck, "You're a natural. Gonna fucking love it, I bet.
Eyes half lidded, his cheek pressed to the wood, Aegon slurred his voice, drooling just a little, "Your cock feels real good." The man grunted. Aegon whimpered, letting his voice rise a bit higher, "Is it gonna fit?"
With a huff, the man grabbed Aegon's hair and yanked his head back. "I'll make it fit," he promised before claiming his lips roughly. Aegon gasped, eyes growing wide.
Letting his scent shift further, Aegon flooded the man with arousal. Overwhelming him. The rhythm of the man's hips grew faster and he dropped his grip. Aegon turned his head and rolled his hips.
With a shout, the man finished in his breeches. Aegon smirked and reached for his laces, tightening them back up as the trader stumbled back, crumbling to the floor.
Aegon searched him. He found the flier being distributed in Pentos. All the truths of the man's story written in a paper crumpled in his coat pocket.
The drawing of Aegon wasn't particularly accurate anymore. His face was a bit more angular than it had been when he was younger.
Pocketing the flier, he stole some coins from the man's purse. When he slipped back out, the bar flies had turned their attention to a woman from White Harbor detailing Lord Stark's overthrow of his uncle's regency.
Aegon placed half of the coins he'd taken on the bar beside his plate and returned to his food.
"Quick one was he?" the bartender hummed as he swept his cut of the take into his palm. Aegon shrugged.
"My food isn't cold, that's the important part," Aegon told him, taking a bite. The man laughed and another cup of wine was sat in front of him. Arbor Red this time.
Whether the man thought Aegon was a whore or a thief didn't much matter. Their arrangement meant Aegon hadn't needed to sell any more of the amythests still hidden in his satchel. In Qohor, he'd sold two, along with the silver they'd once sat in, in exchange for a pair of Valyrian steel daggers.
The gemstones would bring attention and he could not afford any more. Not now. Not with half of Essos looking to trade him for his weight in gold.
That bit had, apparently, not been an exaggeration. In his rented room upstairs, Aegon studied the flier.
It wasn't the king who was looking for him.
"Upon delivery, unharmed and unaccosted, to Queen Alicent Hightower," Aegon whispered the words aloud, throat bobbing. He sniffled.
She'd gone half mad with grief when she thought he was dead and now his mother was drowning the Free Cities in pleas for his return. Or for information.
A single line at the bottom said any word on his well-being or location would earn a reward 'proportional to its validity.' That was certainly the sort of thing his mother would do. Would say.
"My weight in gold though? Really?" Aegon chuckled to himself, ignoring the teardrops falling onto the paper. "That's a bit ridiculous, mother." He scrubbed a hand down his face.
With a sniffle, Aegon folded the flier up and slipped it into his bag. He leaned back in the bed. Curling up, he stole a few hours of sleep before nightfall. The bartender gave him a quick nod as he slipped out into the night.
Sunfyre was waiting in a valley a few hills over, a short way outside of the city. Hidden in the shadow of the terraced farms, empty at this time of night.
The dragon's nostrils flared as Aegon approached him. A growl rising on his lips as he lowered his head to inspect him. Sniffing purposefully.
"I'm fine," Aegon assured him, pressing his face to golden scales. He inhaled sharply. His breaths stuttered.
Whining low, Sunfyre coiled around him. Maw nudging at his side. Aegon cried softly, fingers curling up as he clung to his dragon.
"Mother is looking for me."
The dosh khaleen had said his dreams in the lake had been visions of his future, of his stallion. His fated mate, an alpha blessed by the sun meant to sire the promised conqueror on an omega blessed by the moon.
"They said I should go to him," Aegon mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. They rocked lightly. Sunfyre's neck swaying, his feet dragging just above the ground.
Obviously, their prophecy had gotten confused. Jacaerys was not a khal. And he wasn't Aegon's either. He didn't have an alpha. Never would.
Jacaerys was betrothed to his brother.
"I left for a reason," Aegon reminded himself, exhaling slowly. He dropped onto his feet, standing firm. Sunfyre tittered and Aegon shushed him, "I did!"
He was not going to be the king's whore. Or his broodmare, sold off to some lord as a bedwarmer until he could be mounted during his heats. Not to a prince either!
Though that hadn't been one of the options the king had mentioned to him...
"They said my mate will trigger my heat when he knots me," Aegon huffed, hands fisting in the reins. He tossed his head back, "I'd be pregnant all the fucking time!" His hole fluttered, growing slick against his will, and Aegon snarled, "I will not be having any babies!"
Sunfyre tittered, head rising up in a joyful shriek. Nose wrinkling, Aegon glared at him. Their flight to Norvos was quieter than it normally was.
After a month or so, the back and forth between Qohor and Norvos had become routine. Simple. Aegon would normally tease his dragon, chatter on about his two days in whatever city they were leaving.
"I'm not talking to you," Aegon stuck his nose in the air and sunk forward into his saddle. Sunfyre whined, wings fluttered. His pouting was entirely ignored.
Aegon was busy with his own. He pressed a cheek to golden scales. His hair blew out around him, catching on the scales, dancing before his eyes.
Dark curls. More brown than red. But he couldn't help imagining his mother, pacing in her chambers, crying about all the rumors she must have heard about him. Hands clawing through her red hair.
The brothel. The khals. Not to mention what happened on Driftmark.
"Why does she even want me back?" Aegon whispered to the wind as they soared through the clouds. His eyes squeezed shut.
He hadn't said goodbye. Or left a note. Nothing. She'd been sedated while her husband fucked him through his heat and woken to him having fled to become a whore in Volantis.
Had she heard him? His yelling? His moans? The haze of his first heat had saved him from knowing which sounds had left his lips that night, which sounds had driven his mother into a state requiring milk of the poppy to calm her.
In his nightmares, Aegon screamed. He tried to fight him off, tried to shove the king from his body. Claw at his face.
But he hadn't.
Aegon hadn't fought back, hadn't protested. Hadn't... hadn't done anything.
Just lain there, as he always did when someone pinned him down. Even now.
His sounds muffled by pursed lips and fisted sheets.
The last time he'd spoken to his mother had been when Aemond lost his eye. She'd been angry. He'd been drunk. A maester had torn his brother's useless eye from its socket and Aegon had stared at the wound with several bottles of wine churning in his guts.
Selfishly, Aegon hoped that was how she remembered him. Useless in the face of tragedy. A disappointment.
A rumble rose up beneath him and he smiled into golden scales. Aegon pressed a kiss to his dragon's neck. He sat up, sighing as Qohor came into view.
The city's silhouette rising up from the trees.
In his periphery, red flashed in his eyes. Aegon's breath hitched.
Caraxes.
"Up! Up!" Aegon hissed and Sunfyre rose into the clouds. His doublet was almost immediately soaked. Sunfyre whined and Aegon shushed him.
The Blood Worm himself was flying low over the forest. Through the clouds, Aegon could just see the figure on his back. Silver locks billowing out behind him, same as his red cloak.
Daemon had his gaze fixed on a clearing a mile or so from the city. The same one Aegon had been using for the last month. The ground was solidly trampled, a few of Sunfyre's prints still evident in the mud.
Perhaps he had not given the Pentoshi trader enough credit...
His uncle was looking for him, had learned enough to track him. Aegon's heartbeat ticked up. He pressed the back of his hand to his lips to quiet his breathing.
Eyes fluttering, the realization hit him then. Daemon was here. Over Qohor. Circling, waiting.
Hunting for Aegon.
Sunfyre turned west before Aegon could give the command.
Pentos was wide open. It was, by far, the best of the three northern cities to sell his amythests. Yes, definitely, Aegon would be insane to pass up this opportunity.
And maybe... maybe he could leave a note. A message.
Daemon would find it. He could... he could tell his mother he was safe. That she didn't need to look for him.
"Faster!" Aegon breathed out, clinging to Sunfyre's back as the air grew thin. His dragon darted forward through the clouds.
Speed was more important than stealth now, with Daemon behind them.
All of Pentos probably knew he was alive after all. So what if they saw Sunfyre? They wouldn't see him.
He didn't even need to go into the city.
Yes. He... he could just go to Daemon's. To the manse outside the city, leave his message somewhere obvious and then sneak out.
No one would even know he was there.
Gemstones be damned, Aegon could sell them anywhere. He didn't even need them. Not truly.
It was easy enough, finding the right place. The manse Daemon lived in was on the coast and it was surrounded by dragons.
Aegon swallowed thickly as he surveyed them. Moondancer he'd expected. Meleys and Seasmoke he had not. Their heads rose as Sunfyre circled the estate. Moondancer stood, wings fluttering as she chirped up at them.
He was already here. He couldn't just... just turn back. Aegon rolled his shoulders and landed beside the smallest dragon. The green beast nudged playfully at Sunfyre's maw as Aegon slipped from his saddle.
Meleys tracked him with her eyes, head tilting as a quiet rumble rose in her throat. Aegon paused to stare at her. She dropped her maw to the sand. Almost a bow. He shuddered.
His hands shook. Tears prickled at his eyes. He could just... he could just wait. Let Daemon catch him.
Or Rhaenys. Or Laenor. Any of them.
If they found him, they'd take him home, back to Westeros. His chest ached and Aegon sobbed, head falling forward.
They'd take him to the Red Keep.
To the king.
Inhaling slowly, Aegon tugged his cloak tighter around his shoulders. He scrubbed a hand down his face.
He wouldn't let them catch him.
It was easy enough, slipping inside. He'd been practicing with his scent more. The alleys and backstreets of Qohor, the crowded markets of Norvos.
Every guard was distracted, eyes fluttering as their bodies reacted to him. He slipped by unnoticed as they gathered their wits. For some, he didn't even have to do that, he just walked by as their backs turned.
The house was littered with the Targaryen colors. Tapestries and histories. Drapes and couches. The little office he found held books and lineages. All sorts of nonsense about dragonlords and Valyria.
A map of Essos sat unrolled on the table. The papers around it were filled with notes. Someone had seen a boy matching Aegon's description in Saath. Another had spotted Sunfyre over Qohor. A merchant had described a Valyrian with dark hair buying Valyrian steel with gems from Volantis.
Rough lines tracked his movements not just over the last month, but for nearly a year. Daemon had searched half the Sarnori city-states. Laenor had gone to Vaes Dothrak.
By the date, he'd missed Aegon by only a day.
Sinking in to Daemon's abandoned chair, Aegon squeezed his eyes shut. Letters from Rhaenyra requested updates, demanded progress.
The queen's asked if any of the witnesses had said anything about his health. If they'd noticed any bruises. She asked if they thought him safe.
His breath stuttering, Aegon's head fell forward. The letter fluttered to the ground as he cried.
"Kepa?" a quiet voice called out and Aegon froze. Footsteps paused behind him, just outside the open door. The voice rose, "Who's there?"
Head rising, Aegon looked over his shoulder to find one of his cousin's. Rhaena, he assumed, given the lack of a sword pointed at his throat.
A pale pink scarf was wrapped around her silver locs. It matched the dressing gown she pulled tighter around her body.
"My sister will..." she managed half a step back before trailing off. Her head tilted, eyes fluttering, "Aegon?"
He swallowed, nodding mutely. Her lips twitched up. A bright smile was accompanied by a quiet laugh.
"You... you look even more like the queen, with your hair like that," Rhaena giggled and the air rushed from his lungs. Bile rose in his throat as she tacked on, shrugging, "Almost as pretty, even."
"Shut up!" Aegon snapped, standing up. The chair fell back, wood cracking against the stone floor. She startled as he glared at her.
This time she took a full step back.
Rhaena whispered, brow furrowed, "Aren't you... are you not coming home?"
With a scoff, Aegon stood. He gestured around them, "This isn't home, cousin." She pursed her lips. He inhaled slowly. "And I think you know why neither of us is there."
"I..." Rhaena ducked her head, voice cracking, "I presented a couple weeks ago." Her arms wrapped tighter around herself, "Kepa says we'll go back, once Baela presents too."
"Avoided it then," Aegon nodded sharply, "Good." He crossed his arms, tried to shake the memories from his head. They refused to budge.
With a curse, he lunged for a bin in the corner. His stomach was empty, but that didn't help. Rhaena crouched beside him, petting at his hair.
"I can't go back," Aegon hiccuped, tears gathering on his lashes as he wretched. "I won't!"
The realization settled in his chest like a stone. It sat heavily in his lungs as he shuddered through a few breaths, flinching away from Rhaena as hands that weren't hers crawled over his body, beneath his clothes.
Hands that weren't even there.
He was seven-and-ten, shaking in a corner, with a girl five years his junior trying to sooth him. Her soft words drowned out by moans that echoed in his head.
Gentle touches. Fingers on his chest. Aegon shoved Rhaena away, trying to snarl.
"Don't touch me!" It came out a sob as he wretched again, grabbing at the edge of the bin.
Rhaena stood up, looming over him. Her scent soft, even as it twisted with concern. She left and Aegon grimaced.
"I'm sorry," Rhaena returned with a cup of water. Alone. She set it on the floor beside him before backing away, hovering in the doorway.
The room was quiet. The whole manse. Only the faint grumbles of dragons on the beach. A few snores echoing through the halls. Aegon glanced up as he reached for the water.
"Do you... should I tell kepa you were here?" Rhaena's hands twisted before her as Aegon rinsed his mouth. He sipped at the cup after as she bit her lip.
Shrugging, Aegon stood slowly. He braced himself on the wall and inclined his head towards the sick in the bin, "He'll figure it out."
Nodding slowly, she shifted from foot to foot, hands wringing in front of her. Her mouth opened. Closed.
"Does it always hurt so much?" Rhaena finally managed. He blinked. Her head turned, a bit of color rising on her cheeks through her dark skin, "The heat. It... No one said it would hurt, like that."
"Everyone says it's better, with an alpha," Aegon waited till she turned back to look at him. Their eyes met. "I didn't think so." He exhaled, shrugging his shoulders, "It's good, sex, the other times. I even like it, occassionally."
Silence descended. She didn't leave. Aegon crossed back to the desk. He scribbled his message over Daemon's notes, in large letters. The Valyrian unmistakable, unavoidable.
Glancing over his shoulder, Aegon surveyed his cousin. Rhaena was a proper maiden. A Targaryen omega.
Daemon would probably want her wed to someone in the family. The only alpha besides Jacaerys at the moment was Aemond as far as he knew.
"Do you... do you know who..." Aegon's knuckles went white as he fisted his hands at his side. He exhaled, head falling back, "Who they want you to marry?"
"Aemond," she confirmed. She pursed her lips, "Luke was suggested, but... he hasn't presented yet, and with Jace stalling..."
Chin dropping, Aegon's eyes widened. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, squinting at the floor.
"The king doesn't like that so many of us are unwed," Rhaena blew out a breathe, her brow furrowed, "I don't think Aemond is happy about it."
With a snort, Aegon drawled, "Aemond is never happy except when he's swinging a sword or reading a book." He rolled his eyes, "By now, I bet he's even figured out how to do both at once.
Lips twitched up, Rhaena giggled. She nodded slowly, "Helaena will read aloud sometimes, while he trains. Or that's what Daeron said in his letter anyway. He was complaining."
"Yeah?" Aegon swallowed, eyes flicking towards the desk. There hadn't been any letters from his siblings amongst the papers he'd searched. Just the one from his mother.
"Daeron said he'd... he'd be gentle," Rhaena spoke softly, voice shaking, "He said Aemond would... would take care, not to hurt me."
Nodding, Aegon looked back at her, eyes watering, "He will. Aemond's always been... sweet, in his own way." He laughed wetly and raised his chin, "Mother's favorite. He won't want to disappoint her by being some brute with his bride."
Their eyes met. She smiled at him, a quick uptick. Shy. "Do you think he'd let me fly on Vhagar with him?" Aegon chuckled. His head bobbed shortly as he stepped closer.
"Tell him... " Aegon breathed out, forcing the words out, "Tell him to go slow. And to take breaks... between the knots, so you can recover." Her eyes widened. He flashed her his own smile then, tight and half a grimace, "And don't take a knot on an empty stomach."
The cup was empty when he reached for it again. Aegon swallowed and set it back down. He turned in the room, hands scrubbing down his face.
"I should go..." Aegon whispered, half to himself, half to her. Rhaena straightened.
"Wait, just... just a minute," she held up her finger, backing away. She arched a brow, waiting till he agreed before rushing off.
Letters were thrust into his hands a moment after she rushed back in. The loops and swirls swimming in his eyes as Aegon took in the familiar handwriting of his baby brother. He inhaled, shifting the letters in his hands.
Helaena's words were just as pretty, her Valyrian as neat as her stitching. Aegon whimpered, crying softly.
"I only have one letter from Aemond," Rhaena told him, throat bobbing as he looked up from the letters. Tears stuck to her lashes, "It's short, but... its yours. I'll write him, later, he'll undersrand."
"Thank you," Aegon croaked. He gathered them together, tucking them into his doublet. His fingers twitched on the leather strap across his chest. Over his shirt.
Reaching back, beneath his doublet, Aegon pulled one of the daggers from the holster on his back. The sheath and all. Rhaena squeaked, jumping back as he held it out to her.
"If... if Daeron and I are wrong..." Aegon pushed the blade into her shaking hands. She stared up at him, eyes wide.
He cupped her face in his free hand. His grip tight on the dagger as he took in her fine features. The curve of her face. Her plump lips. Wide nose.
More girl than woman. A child. Just like his brother was, both of them even.
"...Push your scent out. The arousal, it'll overwhelm him... or any other alpha that..." Aegon gulped, chest heaving, "You shouldn't have to let anyone touch you, if you don't want them."
Her fingers wrapped around the handle and Aegon let it go as she nodded mutely. He didn't step back. Rhaena pulled the dagger free, breath hitching, "This is Valyrian steel."
Shrugging, Aegon pressed a kiss to her forehead, "So are we." He squeezed her shoulder, choking on his words, "We have to be."
"Wait!" Rhaena grabbed at his hand as he tried to step around her. Her grip tightened and he paused. She hiccupped, "Do you... do you need gold? Or food? Or-"
"No," Aegon shook his head. He squeezed her hand, chin rising, "I already got more than I came for." He pulled away and didn't look back as he walked out.
Sunfyre was curled around Moondancer when Aegon made his way back to the beach. The golden beast half coiled around the pale green dragon.
The sun was rising and Aegon was quick to climb into his saddle. Moondancer whined. Sunfyre nudged at her and she chirped as he rose up from the sand.
"Have you been flirting this whole time?" Aegon huffed, eyebrow arching as they took to the air. Sunfyre turned his head, preening as Moondancer trilled. Rolling his eyes, Aegon nudged at his side, "Let's go, before Daemon gets back."
Circling the estate, Sunfyre rose higher and Aegon caught sight of Rhaena standing in the central courtyard, looking up at him. Another figure joined her and Rhaena's arm shot out to grab her sister's arm. Keeping her there.
Rhaenys required no hand to stop her. She stood in one of the balconies, leaning on the metal railing, grey hair whipping around her. Lips pursed, gaze focused, simply watching him, just as her dragon had done.
A slow nod, half a bow, and Aegon was gone. They flew south, the coastline just visible beneath the clouds. He'd seen Daemon's map, he knew where the man had been looking for him. Where Rhaenyra had sent the dragonriders to search for clues.
In Tyrosh, he gave his name as Aegon when he sold the last of the jewelry he had left from Volantis. The amethysts alone remained, neatly buried at the bottom of his bag in a little satchel.
In Lys, he had his nipples pierced and joked about a triarch suggesting it with the woman holding the needle.
He flew low over the Summer Sea. Sunfyre burned a few Volantene ships that tried to follow him. Any that survived turned back when he came to the Smoking Sea.
While Sunfyre had whined when they went near the Red Waste, over the shattered ruins of the Freehold, his dragon roared. Excitement buzzing through him and warming Aegon's fingertips as he stroked golden scales.
"We can't risk long here," Aegon murmured, though his heart ached as he looked south.
Valyria itself was not far. The ruined city.
"One night," Aegon relented, nudging Sunfyre north, away from Oros and Tyria and whatever demons were meant to dwell within their walls.
The Land of of the Long Summer was nothing but a scorched wasteland. A Valyrian road still sat, running from Oros to Mantarys according to the map Aegon had copied into his notebook years before. It's sleek black surface was almost indecernable from the ashen ground surrounding it.
"You can hunt in the morning," Aegon flicked Sunfyre's maw as they stood in the desolate land of their ancestors. Sunfyre grumbled and Aegon spun around, arms wide, "You shouldn't eat anything you might find here, you silly beast."
With a whine, Sunfyre coiled in the blackened earth. It stained his golden scales and stuck to Aegon's skin when he lay beside him. Resting against his dragon, Aegon ran his fingers through the soot beneath him.
"Softer than I expected," Aegon giggled, pressing his fingers together. The dirt fell back to the ground, leaving his fingertips and nails stained black.
That night he dreamt of golden eyes as bright as the sun. They stared up at Aegon from a shimmering pool as his alpha rocked his knot deeper into Aegon's clenching hole. Back sliding against his alpha's sweat-slick chest, Aegon clawed at the ashen dirt beneath him.
Aegon moaned, head tilting back as he wrapped his arms around Jacaerys' neck. Lips pressed to his throat as his alpha pulled him up. The knot sunk deeper and a hand pressed to his stomach.
"We'll have a full clutch at this rate, Egg," Jacaerys chuckled, breath hot in his ear. Aegon gasped. His eyes widened as he took in the looming towers around them. Sleek black stone, twisted and coiling as it created dragons that rose up into the clouds.
Hundreds of them. A city's worth. More. A few fluttering wings saw other dragons rising into the air. Flesh and blood. Scales of red and green, gold and silver. Pink. Purple. More colorful scales than Aegon had ever seen were flying across rolling hills and a river with black water.
An ache in his chest drew his gaze downward. He cursed, voice stuttering as his hard cock drooled against his swollen stomach. Jacaerys cupped his pregnant belly. He nuzzled against Aegon's ear, "You look beautiful like this, my love."
Fingers grazed over his nipples as they began to leak. Jacaerys pressed a kiss to his throat, to his scent gland. A hand dropped to his cock.
"I ought to satisfy you, hmm?" Jacaerys pumped his shaft and Aegon's breath hitched. "Before the babes start crying for their breakfast."
Shouting, Aegon came awake with a heaving chest and wet smallclothes.
Valyria. He'd dreamed of Valyria.
Nothing else. Just Valyria. That was all. No one else could tell him otherwise.
Aegon raised a hand to scrub at his face, stopping as he caught sight of his stained palms. He blinked at them. At the soot streaking down his arms.
They were still black when he arrived in Qarth. His hair too, though that he'd done on purpose. When he bought passage on a ship to Yi Ti, Aegon gave the name Blackfyre and smirked as he taught it to a slave he'd bought from the market who looked like him.
He gave the boy a jade dagger, the clothes he'd been wearing in Pentos, and some gold before bleeding back into the city. Blackfyre would lead Daemon astray. Or, at least, annoy him as he tried to connect all the dots.
It took him a month, but Aegon started enough false trails along the southern coast that he felt safe enough to return to Qohor. He spent another month hidden in a cave in the Painted Mountains, just in case. Though.... he'd stayed there longer than he intended.
A tug in his chest assured him Sunfyre was far off, hunting over the Dothraki Sea most likely, as Aegon laid in the bed of his rented room, recovering from his latest heat.
Limbs still spasming every now and then, Aegon found himself reaching for his dagger every time someone passed his door. No omega was worth a cut from Valyrian steel.
On his bed side table, beside the dagger, Aegon had his siblings' letters piled up.
"You almost manage to sound sweet, little brother," Aegon chuckled to himself as he traced Aemond's words. His stitled declaration of duty and protection to their cousin.
No harm would come to her in his care. Not even from him. He thought it best they wait to consummate their marriage. A couple of years, at least, for Rhaena to settle into her designation before they risked a pregnancy.
We needn't concern ourselves with providing heirs to House Targaryen, unless that is your wish, my lady.
The only request Aemond made in the whole letter, in between his assurances that her preferences were of great importance to him, was that they remain in King's Landing after their wedding.
If you desire to visit Pentos or Driftmark or wherever else your sister might settle, I am amenable. It is merely that my own sister remains unwed and my little brother has only just returned. Were we to remain here, I think our presence would be most beneficial. For the queen especially.
It was a short letter, as Rhaena had said, but Aemond had said quite a lot in his few words. Still the dutiful son. As anxious to please their mother as Aegon had always been to ignore her.
"You'll be a good husband," Aegon winced as he curled on his side. His throat bobbed, voice shaking, "More nervous about it all than she is, I bet."
He ought to be there, ought to fulfill his own duty as Aemond's older brother, make sure he knew what to do. Aegon had lain with women, not as often as men, but he knew the mechanics.
The questions would fall to Daeron to answer instead, it seemed. Aegon set Aemond's letter aside and picked one of Daeron's from the pile at random.
His first heat had not been spent alone, as Aegon had hoped for him, but Daeron had chosen his partner at least. Bethany Hightower was some cousin of theirs. A beta only a few years older than his little brother. She'd taken his seed with pleasure as Daeron's body had twisted with heat and need.
It sounded pleasant. His descriptions were vivid and Aegon imagined his little cousin had found herself quite flushed reading them herself. His heat had been far from the pain Rhaena had mentioned, that Aegon was still suffering from.
Daeron had been whisked away to King's Landing and Bethany married to the steward's son a fortnight later.
"No one seems to know if the rule of a first heat will extend to my seed," Aegon read aloud, humming softly, "but I suppose we'll find out, when Bethany's babe is born, if it has my eyes or our family's silver locks."
Only three and ten and his baby brother might already have a bastard. Aegon was almost proud. He'd not even kissed a girl before he arrived in Volantis, though he'd fantasized about much more, his cock in hand as he stood in his window.
Girls. Boys. Maids and ladies, squires and apprentices. Aegon hadn't cared if he had any bastards, he'd simply been excited to slip his cock into all of them, just as soon as he could.
But Daeron only liked girls.
Rolling onto his back, Aegon settled low in his bed as he read about Daeron's drunken attempt to lay with a man, to take their nephew's cock.
He went slow, opening me up with fingers first. It was an odd sensation. Not unpleasant. You should have Aemond do the same for you because Jace's cock slid in quite comfortably. Easily even, once he'd helped to relax.
My body took him greedily and Jace was gentle, though I think he wanted to move faster. Perhaps spread my legs wider, as Bethany had done for me, so he might slip a bit deeper still. His lips fell open as he rocked inside of me just the same. His eyes fluttered. I could feel his cock pulsing inside me and he grunted a bit, with every thrust. It was good that one of us liked it I suppose.
I don't think I'll ever enjoy the act in this way though. My nerves were alight with pleasure, yes, cousin, but his cock felt wrong. Like an invasion. Dragging in and out of me like some sort of thick blade meant to torture me. Everything too rough, raw.
Jace noticed, of course. My body reacted pleasantly enough, but all the sensations were distracting. Annoying even. I could not lose myself in it as I had with Bethany. Or even as I might when I touch myself.
He cupped my cheek and asked me what was wrong. I told him to keep going, but he stopped. I though he might command me, as the king does sometimes. But he didn't. He merely forced me to look at him. His grip firm. I'd never noticed the calluses on his hands before that moment.
My denials fell on deaf ears and he demanded I tell him the truth. So I did. Both about how much I disliked our coupling and how much I enjoyed the bodies of women. Bethany. The pretty maid my mother has hired to look after me since I arrived. I was crying by the end, babbling about how beautiful Helaena is and certain fantasies that Aemond would likely thrash me against a wall for having. None I haven't told you before, of course.
He didn't finish. Despite his obvious enjoyment, Jace didn't take his pleasure in my body. He didn't even want me to use my hand, though he remained hard after he withdrew. I'm not to touch anyone I do not truly want he said. He won't let any touch me either, unless it's my wish.
I haven't the faintest clue how that's going to work, considering I'm meant to bear his heirs. But he spoke with your grandfather I guess. I'm to go to Driftmark soon and be Lord Corlys' squire, finish my training. Become a knight!
The king is furious, I'm sure, and mother will be a bit sad, but Jace was adamant. Can you believe this Rhaena? I'm still going to be a knight! Despite my designation, the expectations, all of it. Jace has promised it will be so and I don't even know how I am to feel, cousin. Happy is simply too small a word for it!
Aegon had read the words half a dozen times even before his heat. A couple of nights writhing in a cave as his body ached for an alpha had not helped. Certainly not when his fantasies from Vaes Dothrak had merged with Daeron's words.
His brother had written about Jace often in his letters, though never again about his body. His cock. Aegon shuddered. His chest tight and his fingers twitching.
Abandoning the letter to the side, Aegon took himself in hand. His eyes fluttered closed as he imagined his nephew's furrowed brow, his clenched jaw. Helaena had described him in great detail in one of her letters, had even sketched a drawing of him at the bottom of the page.
Jacaerys, his sharp jaw, broad shoulders, holding a dragon egg as he smirked. Dark curls falling into his face. Aegon could almost see him in his head.
The most obstinate dragon in the world, she'd written beneath it.
"Jace~" Aegon breathed out as he arched off the bed. With a low cry, he collapsed against the sheets. Warm from his fingers to his toes as he panted. Cum splattered across his chest.
Shuddering through several breaths, Aegon sat up. His shoulders shook. He ran a hand over his stomach.
"Ridiculous," Aegon huffed, glaring at his fingers as he trailed over the spot beneath his belly button where his womb lay. Empty, and unhappy about it.
The cramps had been particularly bad this time. His screams had echoed out across the Painted Mountains for miles he was sure. The ache in his chest had been excerbated by the weight of the tiny silver hoops in his nipples.
His dreams of Valyria had haunted him. The metal shaft in his hole entirely inadequate as he sobbed against Sunfyre's golden scales. The dragon's warmth the only balm he had and after the first day, even Sunfyre had been unable to sooth him.
Hollow. He'd felt hollow, every nerve burning, his hole clenching desperately around the toy Aegon had pushed as deep as he could. The metal base cold against his rim.
Saera had told him, had warned him. His heats would grow more painful as he got older. Longer too. Until he had someone to share it with
"Fuck her," Aegon growled as he rose to his feet. He shoved a hand through his hair. "I don't need an alpha."
He caught sight of himself in the mirror. His sweaty hair plastered to his face. The dark dye he'd made for himself staining his pale skin.
"No one can touch me," Aegon told himself, "Not unless I let them."
Jacaerys had promised Daeron he would always have a choice. Aemond had made it clear the same would be true for Rhaena. But that was never enough. Just words.
And Aegon was well aware of how easy it was to say pretty things to make people happy, to convince them to drop their guard. His survival was built on lies. Had been since the beginning, since Volantis.
His dagger caught his eye. The rippling steel. Valyrian, like him, like them. He'd given Rhaena it's twin. Given her a weapon, a defense. Protection, even from his brother, if she needed it.
"Please don't need it," Aegon begged, eyes squeezing shut. He fell forward, gripping the empty dresser as he cried.
It was wrong, his jealousy. His envy. Pathetic even. Disgusting.
"But it's not fair!" Aegon shouted, shoving uselessly at the furniture. It didn't budge. He sobbed, hands fisting in his hair.
Rhaena had gone home. He'd heard the rumors only the day before. All the dragons had left Pentos, returned to King's Landing. She was probably married already, safe and secure with Aemond stood at her side. Awkward and grumpy, scowling at those who even tried to look at her.
One day she'd coax his little brother into her bed. He'd sate her heat. Rhaena would have babies, when she wanted them, and her heats would come easy, be pleasant, as Daeron's had been.
Daeron. Daeron who was going to be a knight. Daeron who had a bastard growing in some cousin's womb and was betrothed to the next king of the Seven Kingdoms.
"It's always gonna hurt," Aegon whimpered, head rising up. His face red, eyes ringed as such. Tears glistened on his cheeks.
He still saw his mother, every time he looked in the mirror. Heard his father's voice. A vision, he'd said.
"As beautiful as your mother," Aegon croaked, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.
Dark eyes flashed in his head. Golden in the torch light as Jacaerys approached him. The boy in his memories, face pinched in a scowl.
He wasn't a man yet, certainly not the one in his stupid fantasies. Jacaerys was just a boy still, just like Aegon had been. The same age now even.
"Jace can't protect him," Aegon breathed out, eyes squeezing shut, "No one can." Or, at least, they wouldn't. They hadn't protected Aegon after all.
With his hair dyed a soft auburn and his eyes flicking around nervously, Aegon entered the shop of the best weaponsmith in Qohor. A fake letter from his uncle clutched in his hand.
"Excuse me?" Aegon squeaked, jumping when the door closed behind him with a loud thud. He blinked up at the man, shrinking back to make himself appear smaller, younger. "Are- are you the owner?"
A nod and an arched brow had Aegon offering him the letter. He handed the man a heavy pouch of gold next, nearly all that Aegon had left.
His voice shook and Aegon swallowed thickly as the man read the letter, "My master sent me to place an order on behalf of Prince Daemon." He glanced at the gold as he opened the pouch, eyes wide, "Is... is that enough?"