Dreams, Dragons, and Deceit || Aemond & Aegon Targaryen

A Little Mischief

Visaera woke to Aegon's hand running up and down her back, beneath the nightgown that had ridden up in her sleep. She hummed her contentment and shifted closer to him, fighting consciousness. If she opened her eyes, it would mean her day was beginning, and that would mean Aegon had to leave.

"Good morning," she murmured, nuzzling his shoulder.

"Good morning, Vis," he replied softly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I don't want to get up," she groaned, shifting beneath the sheet.

"Mm," The prince planted another kiss on her cheek and then tilted her head back to gain access to her lips, "I have no objections to remaining in bed with you for the entire day." She snorted and shook her head.

"As much as I would love that, your mother would kill us both." He grimaced. "Come on," she nudged him and then forced herself out of bed, padding across the floor to her wardrobe. Tugging off her nightwear, she glanced through her dresses and ran her fingers over the material, considering her options. After the night they had shared, she was no longer afraid of letting Aegon see her. In fact, she was considering writing to her mother later that day and asking her to agree to a betrothal.

His hands slipped around her naked waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder, glancing at her dresses. "What do you think of this?" she asked, holding up the violet gown and running her fingers over the wispy material. It was soft and breathable, perfect for the summer head. But Aegon's eyes remained on the dresses still hanging in front of them.

"The green one..." he finally answered, running his hand over it the satin. Visaera pulled it out and held it up to her body, spinning around to show him.

"This?" Aegon's mouth had gone dry and he nodded, his eyes already dark with desire.

"Your mother will keel over," she commented dryly. The dress was borderline lewd; held together at the neck by a series of gold straps. The front has a wide V-shaped gap that would nearly reveal the entire area from her cleavage to her naval. The back was more of the same; the material would bunch at the small of her back, leaving the rest nearly bare.

Even her mother had hardly approved when a large parcel had arrived from Lys, carrying many more dresses like it. Daemon had merely snorted and told her mother to let her wear what she wished. Lys was entirely different from Westeros; they worshipped the body and sensuality; the faith stifled those things.

"All the more reason," he added hungrily.

"It has been rather hot lately," she excused with a mischievous grin.

"Yes, it has," he answered. The prince helped her into her dress and she secured a gold chain around her middle to accentuate her waist. Aegon watched her the entire time with desire burning in her eyes. "You're fucking gorgeous, do you know that?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

"Mm, thank you," she replied, pressing her lips to his. The moment was lost as the sound of rapping on her door interrupted their kiss. "Time for you to go..." Before he slipped into the passageway, Aegon through one last look of desire her way.

Alarya blinked in surprise as she realized the princess was already dressed.

"Good morning," Visaera greeted brightly, letting her into the room. Her handmaiden's mouth was set in a tight grimace as she stepped into the room. As she picked up the long-forgotten nightgown from the floor, smeared with dried semen, that grimace turned into a frown.

"Visaera... I don't wish to speak out of turn..."

"Then don't," Visaera replied sharply, meeting her gaze through the mirror.