Salvation - Aemond Targaryen / Aegon Targaryen

Impure Thoughts

Aegon was drunk.

Aegon liked being drunk. Though, no one else seemed to share in his amusement. The feast had gotten dull when the Hightower girl across from him started spouting about sins and devoutness. Even his dear brother seemed a bit annoyed at her holier-than-thou demeanor.

So he sat, and he watched her pour over the papers until he grew tired of it. His wife, gods he hated even thinking it, sat next to him. She was picking at her dress and muttering about bugs and ships and something about wolves he didn't care to listen to.

Jeyne Hightower was not like her portrait. Where the artist had painted large noses and thin lips, flat chests and paleness, Aegon saw breasts he could get a handful of. He saw a pretty, small nose and lips that were proportioned to her face. She was thinner, her skin was refreshingly tan—not like Helaena, who was pale and stocky from two pregnancies.

And her brothers knew good red. The cask they sent had practically been emptied into his chalice which emptied into his belly and made the room spin around him. He was overjoyed with the way his limbs felt when he tried to raise them or the heaviness of his foot as he searched for her under the table. He found only Aemond, who did not even look at him as he kicked roughly below the table.

Gods, he thought. Such an ass.

He knew his lady mother had made her mind up already. He knew that his mother had chosen Jeyne's lord husband already and this was merely to give the little girl some semblance of freedom and choice. Aegon knew that his mother didn't care for anyone but herself, didn't care about anyone but Alicent Hightower. And maybe Aemond.

It was going to be Jason Lannister. The fool had thought to wave his wealth in the crown's face by forgoing the girl's dowry and it worked. Ormund Hightower was a frugal man and would save coin whenever necessary, even if it meant giving his daughter away for free.

I'll take her. He wanted to say. She was looking delectable from his spot at the table. Give her to me. Keep the dowry I'll make her a princess.

She didn't need a say in the matter. Aegon committed worse sins before his breakfast. But—oh well. He'd get her one day. No woman could resist him, it's partially why he was so loved in his brothels. The other part? Women loved the chance to fuck royalty.

His cock twitched in his pants at the thought of visiting his ladies—the ones who were great with his child growing in their belly and leaked milk from their perfect tits. Aegon shifted in his seat, still staring at the future septa from across the table. Her blush was pretty—it covered her chest. He wondered how far it went down—

"I'm tired." Helaena spoke next to him, louder than the rest of her stupid whispers. She looked up but did not meet anyone's eye. She never did. Her eyes were wandering behind her mother, head swaying uneasily. "Can I go?"

Aegon rubbed his open mouth with his palm. He flicked his hand. "Sure. Go." His wife moved to stand, but he gripped her hand. She flinched from his tough—as she always did—and stared where their skin touched. Aegon leaned close, staring across the table at Jeyne as he spoke. "See to it you wash. I shall visit you tonight."

A small squeak came from Helaena, but she nodded obediently and pushed from the table. Alicent, across the table, watched her only daughter leave from the room with pity.

"I will go with her," Alicent said softly. His lady mother pet her cousin's hand gently. "I shall return. Aemond?" Aegon let his index finger brush the inner part of his lower lip as he watched his little brother nod, and his mother leave behind his wife.