Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Requiem

A/N: This is my longest chapter. But only because it was so fun writing it. Typical westerosi wedding going horribly wrong.
Enjoy.

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Aegon POV

The dragon prince was quite pleased he didn't feel any back pain at this hour. He spent half a day just lounging on his stomach in his rooms. Numbed out of his mind on milk of the puppy.

Well, not completely unconsious. He has a built in tolerance from all the recreational medication he's sampled. But he was drowsy, and tired from the one-on-one exclusive torturing session he had to attend.

After being dragged to the Red Keep like a damsel in distress and stitched by Orwyle, Aemond let him know just how they tracked him down.

He was insulted they didn't start looking right away and assumed he was passed out drunk somewhere.

Aegon can't possibly stay in town for two nights in a row. He's not a gambling or drug addict. He has standards. Thank you very much.

But alas. His golden radiance, equal to no one but Sunfyre, is lost on these people.

First thing's first. He revealed what he discovered about Talya's involvement the white worm conspiracy and blamed Aemond for being such a blabbering fiend.

Another of Mysaria's agents had come forth as an informer and ratted out two kitchen staff members before he and they were excuted. This was done under his employer's order to deliver Aegon to their lap and prevent too much scrutiny to further endanger her spynetwork at large.

His mother's lady-in-waiting being complicit in the plot was kept secret until the future king himself uncovered it.

Spymaster my ass. Aegon's naturally gifted at anything he does. He just has to be motivated enough to do it.

"We should kill her. Before she learns we're aware where her true allegiance lies and goes into hiding." Aemond's calm demeanor issuing a death sentence should be haunting.

"Thank you for your input, captain Obvious. But I think not."

"You think I need your permission to execute an enemy spy. This is my jurisdiction. Not yours." His brother stopped twirling his dagger menacingly and sneered at him.

"Remind me, brother. What is it exactly that you do? When you're not at the bottom of a barrel, or some woman's bed."

So much derision little brother. And here I thought you'll be gloating for saving me. Did you regret it I wonder.

"I do what every firstborn son does. I rule. It's hard for second borns to understand this, I know. But if the Seven truly wanted you as king, they could've made you my elder. Ponder that."

A cold violet eye that would freeze dragonflame stared at him. Taunting him to make a move. Aemond never instigated any physical fight. He liked coming out on top despite not being the aggressor. Aegon wouldn't give him cause to have his pound of flesh. Veiled words and insults are more than enough.

And the only kind of sparring he can now beat his brother in is a verbal one. So he has no intention of throwing the first punch like an impulsive twat.

"Perhaps the Gods recognized that with you as the firstborn son, Rhaenyra and Daemon would let their guards down and be ill-equipped when an actual coup emerges. That you're just a place holder for a better claimant to live an other day. Ponder that."

Well played. You must've been thinking about that comeback for ages. But respect little brother.

Aegon bursts into laughter as Aemond smirks when Cregan tries to intervene and play peacemaker.