Duty Calls...But Pleasure Beckons

The coals in the small brazier glowed as bright as molten gold, their heat radiating outward to warm the dragon egg nestled within the metal container Aegon had carefully placed it in. The chamber was thick with the scent of charred wood and warming steel, but Aegon's senses were filled with something else entirely, the feel of Rhaenyra's lips pressed passionately against his. Her presence, her warmth, made the worries of the day dissolve into nothingness. His arms wrapped tightly around her, as if she was the anchor to keep him from drifting away into the tempest of the past day.

"You're back, safe and whole," Rhaenyra whispered against his lips, her forehead resting against his. "I worried, you know." Her voice was soft, but it carried a weight that made Aegon pull her closer still.

"As long as you're here," he murmured, brushing a loose strand of silver hair from her cheek, "I will always find my way back."

They stood like that for a moment longer, locked in each other's embrace, before Aegon reluctantly pulled away. Duty still called, and this time, it was in the form of his father, King Viserys, waiting next to his grand miniature recreation of the Anogrion.

The king's quarters had been occupied with multiple-tables dedicated to the awe-inspiring creation. It was sacred place where the blood mages had once practiced their arcane rituals amidst towering columns and flickering torches of the Freehold. The room pulsed with history, as if the ancient civilization's heart still beat within these walls. Alicent stood by Viserys, her hands neatly clasped in front of her, her eyes betraying a mixture of concern and curiosity. Rhaenyra joined them with an air of quiet fury, though only she and Alicent truly understood why.

Aegon was the last to enter, his expression calm, his movements composed as he crossed the threshold into the room. He bowed slightly to his father before taking his place by Rhaenyra's side.

"Well," Viserys began, his voice heavy with the burden of kingship. "Tell me all that transpired, Aegon. How went the retrieval of the egg?"

Aegon gave a measured nod, his gaze steady on his father. He recounted the events at Dragonstone with methodical precision, Daemon's provocations, the egg, and how he had quelled the tension without violence, defusing the situation with carefully chosen words and the threat of Vermithor looming. 

Viserys listened intently, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing moment. "Daemon...unpredictable as he is, was always predictable in when he'd cause trouble" he muttered, shaking his head. "It was only a matter of time before he caused an age of strife"

Alicent exchanged a glance with Rhaenyra, whose jaw clenched with barely contained rage. It wasn't just Daemon's insolence that angered her, it was his theft of the egg, the very egg Aegon had already claimed for their child. Only she and Alicent knew the true depth that such a thing brought at this time, a secret kept from all others but one. But now, Daemon had nearly tainted that future, and her fury simmered just below the surface, her hands white from how hard they clasped each other in her lap. 

"It is not Daemon that concerns me now, thanks in hand to your decisive action," Viserys continued, his tone weary. "It is the situation in the Stepstones. War brews there, and I know that you, Aegon, have an eye on it."

Aegon's face remained neutral, but Rhaenyra could see the faint flicker of discontent behind his calm facade. "The Stepstones are a volatile place, Father. If we leave them unchecked, the Triarchy will grow bolder."

Viserys shook his head firmly. "I will not send my son to war over a cluster of barren islands. The cost would be too great, Aegon, and I will not risk your life in the Stepstones."

Aegon pressed his lips together, carefully choosing his words. "I understand, Father. But the cost of inaction may be greater still. If the Triarchy consolidates power, they will become a greater threat to the Realm."

Viserys sighed, his voice laced with a heavy reluctance. "You will not go. That is final."

The meeting continued, but the decision was clear. Viserys would not be swayed. Aegon understood his father's desire to protect his children from the harsh realities of war, but it did little to ease the frustration gnawing at him. For a moment, he considered challenging the king's orders outright, but one glance at his father's weathered face made him relent. Viserys bore the weight of the crown with all its burdens, and Aegon knew that his father's choice came from love as much as duty.

The meeting concluded on a somber note, and Aegon, Rhaenyra, and Alicent made their way to the solar, a more private space where they could speak freely. The afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, casting golden beams across the room. Once the door closed behind them, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of frustration.

"He shouldn't have refused you," Rhaenyra said, pacing the room. "You're right about the Stepstones."

Aegon leaned against the edge of the table, watching her with quiet intensity. "Father's not wrong to be cautious, Rhaenyra. I wouldn't wish war upon any of us, let alone my child" 

"But you intend to go anyway..." Alicent said softly, her gaze unwavering. It wasn't a question.

Aegon nodded, his eyes darkening with determination. "Yes. I can't stand by while our enemies strengthen their position, unopposed by the same people and creatures that once struck terror in them, even across the sea. If the crown won't act, I will."

Rhaenyra smiled, though there was a shadow of worry in her eyes. "Then I will go with you."

Aegon turned toward her, a familiar battle between reason and emotion playing out in his mind. He wanted to protect her, to keep her far from the dangers that lay ahead, but he also knew Rhaenyra would never stand idly by. Their bond was too deep, their connection too strong for him to forbid her. She would go, no matter his objections. He sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile.

"Always the stubborn one, aren't you?" Aegon said, his tone light but affectionate. "I could oppose your involvement until the dragons come home, but it wouldn't make a difference."

Rhaenyra smiled, stepping closer to him. "You know me too well, brother."

Alicent, standing quietly to the side, watched the two of them with an unreadable expression. Aegon caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, sensing there was something more she wanted to say.

Before he could speak, Rhaenyra slid beside him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aegon... there's something else." She hesitated for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. "Alicent and I...had a moment before your return, a moment that has made us... closer."

Aegon's brow shot up in surprise. His gaze flicked between his sister and Alicent, who suddenly found the floor more interesting than the conversation. A slow smirk spread across his lips. "Oh?"

Both women laughed, the tension of the day melting away into the warmth of their shared moment. Aegon's smirk softened into a grin, and for the first time that day, he felt a flicker of genuine lightness.

The three of them bantered back and forth, exchanging playful jabs and teasing comments as the servants arrived with trays of food and a tall pitcher of wine for brunch. It was a day of levity and laughter, a brief respite from the shadow of war looming over them. But they all knew it was only a matter of time before they would face the fires of the Stepstones.

Later that night. 

The quiet hum of the night was broken only by the soft crackling of the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls of Aegon and Rhaenyra's quarters. They sat across from each other, their expressions relaxed as they both delved into the ancient texts that intrigued them, the scent of old parchment mixing with the faint smell of burning wood. The firelight danced across Rhaenyra's face, highlighting the intensity of her focus, but soon enough, that familiar devious glint began to take root in her eyes.

Closing her book with a soft thud, Rhaenyra lazily tossed it to the table beside her, leaning back in her chair as she fixed her gaze on her brother. A slow, mischievous smile crept across her lips, one that Aegon had seen many times before—an expression that always seemed to lead to something unexpected.

"Something on your mind love?" Aegon asked, his voice smooth but curious as he lowered his own book.

"Perhaps," she replied, her smile growing wider. "Do you remember what I said earlier... about Alicent?"

Aegon's eyes sharpened at the mention of the queen. His curiosity piqued, and though he wasn't certain what Rhaenyra had in mind, he knew it would be interesting. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

Minutes later, as the castle around them slumbered, Aegon stood outside Alicent's door. Inside, Lady Hightower sat meticulously brushing her long brown hair, the gentle strokes smoothing its silken texture under the flickering candlelight. She hummed softly to herself, her thoughts far away, until a sudden knock brought her back to the present. She glanced toward the door, her brow furrowing in confusion, for who could be visiting her at such an hour?

Opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of Aegon standing there, his handsome face lit with an enigmatic smile. Alicent's surprise was clear, but she recovered quickly, bowing slightly in respect. "My Prince," she greeted him, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "Is there something you need? Would you like to come in?"

Aegon shook his head gently, his polite refusal cloaked in an air of anticipation. "No, my lady," he said softly, his tone inviting without revealing too much. "But I would ask if you might accompany me for a short while."

Alicent hesitated for only a moment before her natural curiosity won out. There was something in Aegon's eyes, something playful, and despite the lateness of the hour, she found herself intrigued. With a nod, she agreed, allowing herself to be led by the prince into the darkened corridors.

"Close your eyes," Aegon murmured when they reached his and Rhaenyra's quarters.

Alicent, intrigued but slightly apprehensive, did as he asked. She let him guide her gently forward, the soft rustle of his robes the only sound as they moved further into the room. When they came to a stop, Aegon's voice was warm in her ear. "You may open them now."

When Alicent's eyes fluttered open, she gasped, her breath catching in her throat. There, lying in the center of the bed, was Rhaenyra, her body veiled beneath a thin sheet that barely covered her. The firelight shimmered in her silver hair, now loose and cascading freely down her shoulders. The devious smirk from earlier had returned, even more pronounced than before. Her violet eyes were locked on Alicent, filled with a mixture of challenge and invitation.

"Aegon…" Alicent started, her voice uncertain as she turned to face him.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" Rhaenyra's voice was soft but teasing, her head tilted as she watched her friend closely.

Aegon, too, watched, though his usual confidence was tempered with a degree of uncertainty. He had not been entirely sure how Alicent would react, but now, seeing her expression unreadable, even to him, he found himself waiting with bated breath.

To both Aegon and Rhaenyra's surprise, Alicent's expression softened. She said nothing, but instead stepped closer to Aegon, her hands slowly and gently cupping his face. Then, without hesitation, she pulled him into a kiss, soft at first, but deepening with each passing moment. Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as he melted into it, Rhaenyra's playful gasp echoing in the background.

"Well...that was certainly unexpected," Rhaenyra teased, still lounging on the bed.

When the kiss broke, Aegon looked at Alicent, his heart racing. "I think we have our answer," he said, his voice low with approval. His gaze shifted between the two women he loved, and for a moment, he felt as though he had entered some kind of dream.

Together, they approached the bed. Rhaenyra, ever the bold one, guided Alicent with a familiar ease, her hands deftly undoing the ties of Alicent's nightgown. There was no resistance, only silent acceptance from Alicent as her clothes fell away. She trusted Rhaenyra, and in this moment, she found herself captivated by the princess's confidence and...beauty. 

Aegon watched, reclining back on the bed with a smirk, his eyes devouring every detail as Rhaenyra's lips met Alicent's. The two women embraced, their movements slow and deliberate, with Alicent obviously less experienced, her indecisive hand placement and delayed responses evident, but the Princess, ever the teacher and more experienced lover, guided her through, eventually making up the difference as passion deepened between the two. It was a sight that stirred every sense within the Prince, and he found himself unable to look away.

Eventually, Rhaenyra turned her gaze toward him, her expression sultry yet playful. "Are you just going to watch, brother?" she teased. "Or are you going to join us?"

With a grin, Aegon shifted forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. the girls assisted their future king in relieving himself of the clothes that that in Rhaenyra's words "oh soburdened him". The three of them became entwined in a symphony of pleasure, their bodies moving together like a well-rehearsed dance. Rhaenyra, with her characteristic dominance, guided every moment, positioning Aegon and Alicent to her will. She rode him with practiced ease, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his, while Alicent, at Rhaenyra's insistence, found herself positioned over Aegon's face, her hands trembling as she yielded to the princess's command.

The room was filled with their sounds, sharp and soft gasps, moans of pleasure, whispered words of affection. The firelight flickered and swayed, casting the scene in a sweat-enhanced ethereal glow that seemed to blur the boundaries of reality and fantasy. For hours, they indulged in each other's desires, savoring the intimacy that bound them together.

Distracted by all that was happening, Aegon remained ignorant of Rhaenyra's slightly swollen belly, still remaining small enough to escape his notice. 

When it was over, the three of them lay in a tangle of limbs, their bodies spent but their hearts full. Aegon lay between the two women, feeling as though he had ascended to paradise itself. He closed his eyes with a deep breathe, letting the warmth of their bodies lull him into a state of bliss.

But then, a sudden knock at the door shattered the peace.

Rhaenyra and Alicent reacted instantly, scrambling to hide beneath the bed with quiet giggles and muffled curses as they pulled the sheet with them, damp evidence of tonight's festivities. Aegon, still dazed from the euphoria of their night, quickly threw on a robe and made his way to the door.

Opening it, he was met with the imposing figure of Lord Corlys Velaryon, his expression serious as always.

"My Prince," Corlys greeted him, his tone respectful but firm. "May I enter? There is a matter we must discuss."

Aegon blinked, doing his best to appear nonchalant as his mind raced. He glanced briefly over his shoulder at the empty bed, knowing that Rhaenyra and Alicent were listening intently from their hiding place.

"Yes, of course, do come in my lord," Aegon said smoothly, stepping aside to let Corlys enter.

As Corlys strode into the room, Aegon couldn't help but wonder where this unexpected visit would lead, and how long he could keep the night's... activities hidden from the Lord of Driftmark.

The warm glow of the hearth flickered between Aegon and Corlys as they sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick and unspoken. The air was filled with the faint scent of wine, the Lord of the tides, however, didn't touch the glass Aegon had poured for him. Instead, the Master of Ships set it aside, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes about his composure and discipline. He had not come for pleasantries or indulgence; there were more pressing matters at hand.

Aegon reclined slightly, his robe loosely tied as he studied the older man. Behind him, beneath the bed, Rhaenyra and Alicent lay hidden, their breaths shallow as they stifled their laughter. They found the situation almost absurd, watching the man they adored, who had only moments ago been wrapped in their passion, now holding secret court with one of the most powerful lords in the realm. They hadn't imagined Aegon as a playboy, but now they saw a new side of him, one that blended his charm and confidence with the responsibilities thrust upon him as a Prince.

Corlys wasted no time with idle chatter. His voice was measured but firm as he addressed the elephant in the room.

"Prince Aegon," he began, leaning slightly forward, "I come to you not merely as a lord of Driftmark, or a noble house, but as a man who serves the realm. The King, your father, has made it abundantly clear that he does not wish for you to be involved in the Stepstones conflict. But I fear that wish is fast becoming untenable."

Aegon's expression remained neutral, though the flicker of interest in his eyes was hard to miss. He knew this conversation was coming. He had expected it for weeks now, ever since the Triarchy had begun to make bold moves against Westerosi shipping lanes, and he had quietly made preparations for his own involvement. Still, he gave nothing away.

"I am loyal to my father's wishes," Aegon said smoothly, a hint of formality in his voice. "Are you asking me to disobey not just the man, but the King?"

Corlys met his gaze evenly, his sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He was not a man easily rattled, but neither was Aegon, and the tension between them was palpable.

"The Triarchy is relentless," Corlys said. "They've already taken much of the Stepstones, and now they strike at our ships. My ships." His tone hardened as he continued. "If we wait any longer, the Lords of Westeros will see this as weakness. Already, whispers travel across the realm. Some speak of rebellion, of dissatisfaction with the King's... inaction."

Aegon took a sip of his wine, the silence stretching between them like a drawn bowstring. He understood the gravity of Corlys's words, but he needed to make his point clear. He leaned forward, mirroring the Lord of Driftmark's posture.

"And you believe my involvement would stop this?" Aegon asked, his voice lower now, more intense. "Do you ask me to save the realm at the cost of betraying my own father?"

Corlys's expression didn't falter. Instead, he leaned forward further, his hands clasped tightly together as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I ask you to act as the prince you are. As a dragon. For if this conflict grows, if we lose the Stepstones entirely, there will be no throne to sit upon. The people will rise, and they will not care who holds the crown."

The words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Aegon considered them, his mind working swiftly through the implications. He already knew he would join the fight, there had never been any doubt in his mind, but the gravity of Corlys's warning cemented his resolve. He had to act, not only for the future of the realm but for the legacy he wished to carve in the annals of history.

After a long moment of silence, Aegon leaned back, exuding calm control. "Then it is decided," he said, his voice steady. "I will leave before daybreak. Vermithor and Syrax will be ready for battle."

Corlys nodded, relief washing over his stern features. He rose to his feet as Aegon did the same, their eyes locking in mutual understanding. Aegon's decision had been made, and the die was cast.

As Corlys moved toward the door, he paused, turning back to face the prince. "History does not remember those who idle, Aegon. You are named after the greatest conqueror the world has known since The Doom, almost two and a half centuries ago. The world will soon know your name as well. For all time."

Aegon stood there, the firelight reflecting in his violet eyes, the weight of his decision heavy upon him. As Corlys left the room, the door closing softly behind him, the tension in the air dissipated.

From beneath the bed, Rhaenyra and Alicent slowly crawled out, their faces alight with amusement and a touch of admiration. Rhaenyra crossed her arms over her chest, smirking at her brother. "Well," she said, raising an eyebrow, "that was... something."

Aegon chuckled softly, shaking his head as he untied the robe he had hastily thrown on. "You both enjoyed that far too much."

Alicent smiled shyly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she took a seat on the bed beside him. "You handled it well, though," she said softly. "You both are ready for this."

Rhaenyra nodded in agreement, her playful demeanor giving way to something more serious. She placed a hand on Aegon's shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "When the dragons take flight tomorrow, we'll make our mark on the war, and on history."

Aegon looked between the two women, two among very few others who meant more to him than anything in the world, and in that moment, he felt a surge of resolve like never before. He was ready. Ready to defy his father's wishes, to ride into battle, and to etch his name into the pages of history.

As the fire crackled beside them, the night settled into an uneasy calm, the quiet before the storm. In a matter of hours, they would fly!

The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light over King's Landing as the night's stillness was broken by the quiet rustle of armor. Inside their chambers, Aegon and Rhaenyra stirred, roused by Alicent's soft touch and quiet voice, something they requested of her to get in some sleep before departure, which she happily agreed to. The weight of what lay ahead hung heavy in the air, but there was no hesitation in their movements.

Alicent helped Aegon first, her hands deftly buckling the silver clasps on his black plate armor, the dragon leather straps pulling tight across his chest. The armor was dark as the night itself, adorned with subtle engravings of dragon wings and scales, an unspoken symbol of his heritage. As she fastened the last buckle, her fingers lingered for a moment on his arm. "You'll be careful," she whispered, more a plea than a question.

Aegon gave her a small smile, his violet eyes softening. "Always," he promised, gently brushing a lock of her brown hair behind her ear before turning to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra was already dressing herself, slipping into her sturdy dark red coat. The material was thick, designed with protection in mind, a hidden layer of armor that would resist arrows and other threats. As she tightened her coat around her frame, she exchanged a glance with Aegon. They didn't need to speak; the understanding between them was deep, forged over years of companionship and love.

Aegon stepped closer, his armor clinking softly as he moved. He ran a hand down her arm, gripping her hand tightly for a moment before pulling her into a brief but fierce embrace. Rhaenyra held him close, feeling the cold steel of his armor against her, but the warmth of his heart through it. She kissed his cheek before stepping back. "For the realm," she said quietly.

"For us," Aegon added, his voice steady.

Alicent stood nearby, watching them with a mix of pride and concern. When the farewells were said, she helped them adjust their cloaks, making sure they were properly concealed under the night's cover. Aegon nodded to her, and with a final shared look, he moved toward a wall at the far side of the room. His fingers found a hidden latch, one he had discovered as a child, using his strange connection to the earth beneath his feet. The false wall gave way with a quiet groan, revealing a narrow passage leading deep into the hidden corridors of Maegor's Holdfast.

"Stay safe," Alicent whispered, her voice trembling slightly as they disappeared into the darkness.

Aegon and Rhaenyra moved swiftly through the winding tunnels, their footsteps silent on the stone. They had practiced this route many times before, and now, with the threat of dawn and duty pushing them forward, they moved as one. The narrow passages carried them under the Red Keep and out into the city, where they would remain unseen. Only the soft glow of the moon above guided them now.

As they emerged from the last tunnel, they found Syrax waiting just outside the city walls, her golden eyes glowing in the dark. The dragon shifted, recognizing her rider instantly. Aegon helped Rhaenyra mount first, before pulling himself up behind her, the smaller she-dragon shifting her weight beneath them as they settled into place.

With a sharp tug on the reins and a quiet word in High Valyrian, Rhaenyra urged Syrax upward. The dragon's wings unfurled, massive and majestic, and with a mighty leap, she took to the sky. The wind whipped around them as they ascended, the stars above twinkling like silver dust scattered across a black canvas. 

They flew in silence for a short while, the cold air biting at their faces. Aegon kept his arms around Rhaenyra, the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding him. Ahead of them, on a distant hill just outside the city, Vermithor stirred from his slumber in his makeshift next. The old dragon let out a low, pulsing rumble as he felt Aegon's presence nearing. The bond between dragon and rider was primal and instinctive often not needing words unless for a specific or complex commands.

Aegon had grown, so too had his connection to Vermithor, the old dragon having appeared younger, the bond of vitality all riders sharing with their mounts going two-ways as his once prominent slacked skin tightening, his scales gleaming and reflective, his once jagged teeth straightening, and his horns returning to their truly imposing regality.

They landed a short distance away, Syrax touching down gracefully. Aegon slid down from the saddle, his boots hitting the earth with a soft thud. Rhaenyra remained mounted, watching him with a soft smile. She could see the flicker of excitement in his eyes, the thrill of battle already sparking within him.

As he approached Vermithor, Aegon glanced back at her. Rhaenyra's smirk widened, her silver hair flowing freely in the wind. "Get to work, lover boy," she teased, her voice filled with warmth.

Aegon laughed softly, shaking his head as he turned back to the massive dragon. Vermithor's orange eyes met his, and the beast let out a low rumble of recognition. The old dragon, though nearly a century old, was still a formidable creature. Aegon stepped forward without hesitation, placing a hand on his warm scales. He could feel the power thrumming beneath his palm, a reminder of the fire that still burned within the ancient beast.

With a whispered word, Aegon called to Vermithor in High Valyrian, more of a greeting then command as the dragon's wings unfurled. The ground shook as the massive creature rose, stretching its long neck toward the sky. Aegon mounted the Fury with practiced ease, and for a moment, he glanced back at Rhaenyra. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, there were no words needed to express their love, their bond, or the weight of what was to come.

Rhaenyra blew him a playful kiss. "You're going to make history these coming days," she said, her voice barely carrying over the wind.

Aegon smirked, his heart swelling with pride and anticipation. "Only with you by my side."

And with that, the two dragons roared into the night, their wings cutting through the sky like knives, bound for the Stepstones. The time for battle had come.