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A Few Days Later - Aegon Targaryen
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The Jade Palace was quiet tonight, as though the whole city of Xia Quo had been wrapped in a thick, silken veil. The light from the hanging lanterns cast a soft glow along the vast corridors, their flickering flames dancing like spirits caught between two worlds.
Aegon walked through the halls in silence, his heart heavy with the weight of the Empress's words.
Aegon Targaryen.
The name echoed in his mind, filling the empty spaces where certainty once lived.
He had always been a boy with no name, no past and no future, a mere servant in the grand scheme of things.
But now, he felt that his reality slipping away, replaced by a version of himself he had never known, a version tethered to power, to destiny.
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A pair of servants passed him in the hallway, their heads bowed in quiet reverence, not to him directly, but to whom he was visiting.
Aegon's fingers brushed the coin in his pocket, and once again, the dragon's image burned in his mind.
What was this new identity the Empress had spoken of? Who was he truly?
He did not have long to dwell on it.
At the far end of the corridor, where the moonlight pooled like silvered ink, a door stood ajar,— the Empress's private chambers.
The faint scent of jasmine drifted from within, mingling with the earthy notes of incense.
There was no one to greet him, no grand announcement of his arrival, yet he felt the weight of her unseen presence pressing down on him even from a distance.
He had been summoned here in the middle of the night, after completing a task given by Master Phai. What awaited him inside thought, he did not know.
With a hesitant breath, Aegon stepped forward, the soft padding of his indoor shoes barely making a sound against the cool stone floor. As he entered the room, the heavy door behind him closed with a quiet click, sealing him inside the Empress's inner sanctum.
The chamber itself was a world unto itself,— lavish, opulent, yet intimate. Silk drapes of deep red and gold cascaded from the high ceiling, framing the wide windows that overlooked the moonlit gardens below.
Cushions embroidered with delicate chinese dragons lay scattered across the floor, and in the center of the room, a low table held a decanter of dark, amber-colored wine. The air was thick with the scent of incense, sweet and heady, mingling with the warmth of candlelight that bathed everything in a soft, golden hue.
And there, lounging on a pile of silken cushions, was the Empress.
She was dressed in a flowing gown of deep crimson, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that was both seductive and regal. Her dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, the tips brushing the delicate silk beneath her.
Her eyes, half-lidded with the faintest hint of a smile, glimmered in the dim light as she watched him enter, her gaze lingering on him as if appraising something she already knew would be hers.
Aegon felt a knot form in his throat. He had never seen a woman like her before. There had been women in the streets of Xia Quo, of course, merchants' wives and daughters who scurried about their errands, but none had ever carried the same air of power, of danger, that the Empress did. She was both familiar and foreign, a force of nature wrapped in the delicate beauty of silk.
"Come closer, Aegon." she said, her voice soft but commanding.
He hesitated for a moment before obeying, his feet moving as though they were no longer his own. As he crossed the room, he felt the warmth of the fire burning in the hearth, the flickering flames casting long shadows that danced along the walls. The scent of jasmine grew stronger, filling his senses, making him feel light-headed and strangely vulnerable.
The Empress shifted slightly as he approached, her gown sliding against the cushions with a soft rustle. She patted the space beside her, a slow, deliberate gesture that seemed to pull him forward.
"Sit."
Aegon lowered himself onto the cushion next to her, feeling the softness of the silk beneath him, yet every nerve in his body was on edge. He could feel the heat of her body so close to his, her scent wrapping around him like a spell. He dared not look directly at her for too long, unsure of what he might find in her gaze.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
The fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of incense curled through the air, and Aegon's heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears. He could feel her watching him, studying him, as though waiting for him to break the silence.
"You are troubled." she said finally, her voice as smooth as the wine she poured into a delicate cup. "I see it in your eyes. So many questions, and yet you hesitate to ask them."
Aegon swallowed, unsure of how to respond.
His thoughts were a tangled mess,— dreams of dragons, the weight of a name he had never known, and the Empress's warning of danger. He had felt so sure that he wanted answers, but now, sitting here in the warm glow of her chambers, he found himself at a loss for words.
The Empress's lips curved into a small smile as though she could read his mind. She placed the cup in his hand, her fingers brushing lightly against his as she did so. Her touch was cool, soft,— delicate but firm.
The brief contact sent a shiver through him, a mix of anticipation and fear.
"Drink." she said, her eyes glimmering in the firelight. "It will help calm your nerves."
Aegon hesitated only a moment before lifting the cup to his lips.
The wine was rich, sweet, with a faint spice that lingered on his tongue. As he drank, he felt the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, though his mind remained a storm of uncertainty.
The Empress leaned back against the cushions, her gaze never leaving his. "You are not like the others, Aegon." she said softly, her voice weaving through the air like a thread of silk. "You feel it, don't you? That restlessness in your blood."
Aegon lowered the cup, his heart pounding again. The words felt familiar, echoing the thoughts that had plagued him for so long. "I don't understand." he said quietly. "I don't know what you want from me."
The Empress smiled, a slow, knowing smile that sent a chill down his spine. She reached out, her fingers brushing the back of his hand, her touch light but deliberate. "I want nothing you aren't already destined to give."
Her hand slid over his, her skin cool against his warmth. Aegon froze, uncertain how to react.
He had never been touched like this before, never felt the slow, calculated pressure of a woman's fingers tracing his skin. The sensation was new,— alien,— but not unpleasant. It stirred something inside him, a feeling he could not name.
The Empress's touch lingered, her fingers tracing idle patterns along his wrist, his forearm. Her eyes held his, and in their depths, Aegon saw something dark, something hungry. Her beauty was undeniable, but it was the kind of beauty that devoured, that consumed all in its path.
"You do not realize how special you are." she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "How powerful."
Aegon swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "I'm just… just a boy. A servant."
She laughed softly, a sound that sent a shiver through him. "No, Aegon. You are far more than that. You are of Valyrian blood, and you carry the blood of dragons in you."
Her hand moved up his arm, the silk of her gown brushing against his skin as she leaned closer. He could feel the heat of her body, the intoxicating scent of jasmine filling his lungs, making him dizzy.
Her lips were inches from his ear now, her breath warm against his skin. "You could have everything you've ever wanted." she murmured. "Power. Wealth. Freedom."
Aegon's heart raced, his thoughts spinning out of control. He wanted to pull away, to escape the intensity of her presence, but he couldn't. He was trapped, caught between desire and fear, his body betraying him even as his mind screamed for him to leave.
"You are bound to greatness." she continued, her voice low and seductive. "I can help you achieve it,— I can show you who you truly are."
Aegon felt her lips brush lightly against his ear, the softest touch, and his breath caught in his throat.
Every fiber of his being was taut, on edge, the space between them charged with something he couldn't understand but couldn't deny.
The Empress pulled back slightly, her eyes locking with his once more. Her hand slid to his chest, resting just over his heart, the pressure light but insistent.
"All you have to do is trust me." she said, her voice a velvet caress. "Let me guide you."
Aegon's mind was a whirlwind, but deep within him, the fire stirred. The dragon, the blood of kings, the destiny she spoke of,— it all called to him, louder and louder, drowning out.
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Aegon's heart thundered beneath the Empress's hand, each beat a frantic reminder of his vulnerability. Her fingers rested lightly on his chest, but the weight of her presence pressed down on him like a tangible force. The warmth of the wine still clung to his lips, but the sweetness had long since faded, replaced by the bitter taste of confusion and desire.
Her gaze held him captive, her pale eyes shimmering like polished jade beneath the flickering candlelight. There was no mistaking the hunger in those eyes,— a hunger not for food or drink, but for something far deeper.
Something that terrified Aegon even as it called to a part of him he had never known.
"You are young." the Empress said softly, her fingers tracing slow circles over his heart, "But there is a fire in you, Aegon. A fire that cannot be extinguished, no matter how hard you try to deny it."
She shifted closer, her gown sliding across the silk cushions with a whispering sound that sent a shiver through him.
Aegon could feel her body heat, the faint scent of jasmine and musk surrounding him, filling his senses until there was nothing but her.
The space between them seemed to shrink with every breath, every flicker of the flames in the hearth.
Aegon swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the wine.
He wanted to speak, to say something, but the words tangled in his mind, refusing to form. The Empress's touch was soft, but there was nothing gentle in the way she leaned toward him, her lips curving into a smile that promised both pleasure and danger.
"Do you know what you could be, Aegon?" she whispered, her breath warm against his cheek. "With me, you could be so much more than a servant. More than a boy with no past."
Her hand moved, trailing down from his chest, slow and deliberate, until her fingers grazed his wrist, then his thigh.
The touch was feather-light, teasing, as though she was testing the boundaries of his restraint. Aegon's body tensed beneath her, his mind screaming at him to pull away, to resist, but he remained frozen, caught between fear and a strange, intoxicating desire.
"You are powerful." she murmured, her lips brushing the curve of his jaw as she spoke. "You just don't know it yet. But I see it. I can help you find it."
Her words slithered into his mind like smoke, filling the gaps left by his uncertainty. There was something hypnotic about the way she spoke, the way her voice wove through the air like a spell, binding him in place.
Aegon had never felt anything like this before,— this dizzying mix of attraction, fear, and something darker, something that made his pulse quicken and his thoughts blur.
The Empress's hand moved again, this time to his neck, her fingers cool against his skin.
She tilted his head slightly, her lips now hovering just above his, her breath warm and sweet. "You want it too, don't you?"
Aegon's breath hitched, his body betraying him with a slight nod. He didn't know what he wanted. Part of him longed to escape this moment, to flee back into the familiar streets of Xia Quo, but another part,— a deeper, more primal part,— yearned for the Empress's touch, for the promise of power and pleasure she dangled before him like a golden fruit.
"I can give you everything," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear now, her voice a soft purr. "Everything you've ever desired."
Aegon closed his eyes, his mind spinning.
He could feel the weight of her body pressing lightly against him, the warmth of her breath on his skin, and the slow, insistent movement of her fingers as they traced the edge of his collarbone.
Every touch was calculated, every word a thread in the web she was spinning around him, and yet… he found himself caught, unable to resist the pull.
Her lips brushed against his cheek, the faintest hint of a kiss, before moving lower, trailing down to the curve of his neck.
Aegon's breath came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as her hand slid down his arm, her fingers curling around his wrist with a possessive strength that belied her graceful movements.
"You're trembling," she said softly, her lips barely moving against his skin. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
But Aegon was afraid,— not of her, but of himself. Of the way his body responded to her touch, the way his thoughts seemed to dissolve into nothingness when she was near. He had never known anything like this, never felt the kind of raw, unbridled emotion that surged through him now.
And yet, as much as he wanted to pull away, he couldn't. He was trapped in her orbit, like a moth drawn to the flame.
The Empress's hand moved lower, her fingers skimming the edge of his tunic as she whispered into his ear. "You are special, Aegon. You are meant for much more than this. More than you can imagine."
Her lips grazed his neck again, and Aegon's breath caught in his throat. His skin burned where she touched him, the sensation both thrilling and terrifying. He knew, deep down, that she was playing a dangerous game, that her interest in him was far from innocent.
But he couldn't deny the allure, the way her words seemed to wrap around his soul, promising him the world.
"I can give you power." she whispered, her voice thick with raw seduction. "Power beyond your wildest dreams. All you have to do is trust me."
Aegon's heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts a chaotic whirl of emotions. He could feel her lips moving against his skin, her touch growing bolder, more insistent.
And yet, there was something else beneath the surface,— something darker. A hunger that went beyond desire.
The Empress's hand slid across his chest, her fingers teasing the edge of his tunic, as though testing how far he would let her go.
Aegon's pulse raced, his body trembling beneath her touch, but he didn't stop her. He couldn't. The fire that burned inside him, the fire she had awakened, was too strong. It clouded his thoughts, silencing the voice of reason that told him to run, to escape before it was too late.
"I see the dragon in you," she murmured, her lips now brushing his ear again. "The fire. The power. You just need someone to help you find it."
Aegon's breath came in shallow gasps, his mind spinning with the weight of her words.
He wanted to believe her, wanted to trust in the promise of power she offered. But there was something else, something lurking beneath the surface of her touch, her words.
Something that whispered of danger, of a price he might not be willing to pay.
The Empress's hand slid lower, her touch growing more intimate, more insistent, and Aegon's body reacted instinctively, his muscles tensing beneath her fingers. She smiled, her lips curving against his skin as though she knew she had him. And perhaps she did.
"You're trembling," she whispered again, her voice a soft, seductive purr. "Don't be afraid, Aegon. Let me show you what you're capable of. Let me help you become the man you were born to be."
Aegon swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel the fire burning inside him, the fire she had stoked with her touch, her words. And yet, deep down, he knew there was something dangerous about this. Something that went beyond the seduction, beyond the promise of power.
But it was too late. He was caught in her web, bound by the promise of something more, something greater. And as her lips pressed against his, soft and warm, he felt the last remnants of his resistance slip away.
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Aegon awoke the next morning, the pale light of dawn filtering through the silk curtains that lined the Empress's chambers.
The room was still, the air heavy with the lingering scent of jasmine and musk. For a moment, he lay there, his mind hazy, as though caught between a dream and reality.
But the warmth beside him was real. He could feel the soft rise and fall of the Empress's breathing, her slender body pressed against his beneath the silk sheets.
Her hand rested lightly on his chest, her fingers curled possessively around him even in sleep.
Aegon stared at the ceiling, his heart heavy with the weight of what had happened. The fire that had burned so brightly the night before had cooled now, leaving behind only the cold reality of his situation.
He had crossed a line. He had given in to the Empress's seduction, allowed her to pull him into her world of power and intrigue. And now, there was no going back.
The Empress stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open as a slow, satisfied smile spread across her lips. She reached up, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek.
"You're mine now, Aegon." she whispered, her voice soft but full of triumph. "And I will make sure the world knows it."
Aegon closed his eyes, the weight of her words sinking deep into his chest like a stone falling into the dark depths of an unseen sea.
The room, so lavish and warm the night before, now felt suffocating. The jasmine-scented air, once intoxicating, now clung to him like the reminder of something tainted.
Beneath the silk sheets, the Empress's body lay close to his, her fingers still grazing his skin, a silent claim to something far more than his flesh.
He wanted to move, to pull away, but found himself rooted in place. Her touch, her scent, the heat of her skin,— it was all too close, too overwhelming. He was trapped in the aftermath of a moment he could never take back.
"You are mine now, dear." she repeated once more, her voice like a purring shadow. Her smile widened as her fingers lazily traced the lines of his chest, marking him in a way that went beyond words or touch. Her lips hovered near his neck, her breath warm against his skin. "And through you, so much more will belong to me."
Aegon didn't respond, his mind reeling with the implications of the night before. What had he done? He was not a man of power, not the figure she painted him to be. He had lived as a servant, as an errand boy, carrying silk through the winding streets of Xia Quo, not dragons or destiny. And yet… the name whispered in his ear,— the name she gave him,— had stirred something in him.
Aegon Targaryen.
His head pounded with the weight of it all.
Aegon Targaryen, and the blood of kings.
The Empress shifted against him, her hand moving from his chest to cradle his jaw with an unexpected tenderness.
She turned his face to hers, her eyes dark, possessive, and unreadable. "You must trust me." she said, her tone softer now, almost coaxing. "You are not meant for this life, for obscurity. I see the fire in you. I see what you could become."
Aegon swallowed, his throat dry. Her fingers brushed his lips as if silencing him before he could utter the doubt that gnawed at him. He could feel the hunger in her words, but it wasn't the hunger of a simple lover. It was something deeper, something far more dangerous.
"I don't even know who I am supposed to be." he finally managed to whisper, his voice betraying the turmoil inside him. "I don't know anything about,—"
"You will." she cut him off, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "You will know who you are. You will understand the power that lies within you, and you will learn to wield it. But you must let me guide you."
Aegon's heart pounded in his chest. The room felt smaller now, the walls pressing in around him, as though the very space of the Jade Palace was closing off any hope of escape. He wanted to trust her,— there was a part of him, the part that had felt the fire in his blood, that wanted to believe in her promises. But there was another part, one that whispered warnings of danger, of control, of a woman who would do anything to hold him under her power.
And yet, even as that warning sounded in the back of his mind, Aegon felt himself nod. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. She had wrapped herself around him, not just with her touch, but with her words, her presence. She had seen inside him, into a part of himself that he had never known existed.
"Good." she said, her voice softening, a smile playing on her lips. "Very good, my sweet Aegon."
She leaned in, her lips brushing his forehead with a kiss that felt as much like a seal of ownership as it did affection. Her fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer before she rose from the bed, the silken sheets falling away from her in a cascade of crimson and gold. The sight of her,— tall, gracefully nakefld, and utterly commanding,— stirred a mix of emotions in Aegon, fear and fascination mingling in equal measure.
She moved to the window, where the early light of dawn spilled in through the embroidered curtains, casting her in a glow that seemed to blur the lines between dream and reality. For a brief moment, Aegon could see the world beyond the palace,— the city of Xia Quo awakening with the first rays of sunlight. It was a world he had known for all of his life, but now it felt distant, like something he could never truly return to.
The Empress turned back to him, her expression unreadable. "You have a choice to make, Aegon." she said, her voice clear, but still laced with that dangerous undertone. "You can remain in the shadows, clinging to the life you've known,— a life of servitude, of anonymity. Or you can embrace what you are. What you were always meant to be."
Aegon sat up, the weight of her words heavy on his shoulders. The fire in his blood,— was it real? Could he truly be something more than what he had always believed? His gaze shifted to the dragon coin still tucked away in the folds of his tunic, a reminder of the name she had given him.
Aegon Targaryen.
"And if I choose to stay?" he asked, his voice low.
The Empress's smile widened, her eyes gleaming in the soft light. "Then you will be mine, Aegon. Truly mine. And together, we will take what is rightfully yours. What is rightfully mine."
The chill in her words made his skin prickle. She spoke of power, of destiny, but there was something more behind her eyes,— an ambition that stretched far beyond what she had revealed. Aegon could feel it, like a shadow lurking just out of sight, waiting to devour him the moment he let his guard down.
But as much as he feared it, he was also drawn to it. The fire inside him was growing, flickering like a flame caught in the wind. He couldn't deny it. He couldn't run from it. Not anymore.
"I don't know if I'm ready." Aegon admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
The Empress stepped closer, her hand reaching out to cup his face, her touch gentle but firm. "You will be." she said, her voice low and reassuring. "I will make sure of it."
Her words hung in the air, a promise and a threat all at once. Aegon felt the weight of her control settle over him like a chain, invisible but unbreakable. He was bound to her now, whether he wanted to be or not.
The Empress leaned in, her lips brushing his once more, soft but possessive, as though sealing the pact between them. Aegon's breath hitched, his body betraying him once again as he leaned into the kiss, the fire in his blood roaring to life.
And then, as quickly as it began, she pulled away, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You will return to me tonight." she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "There is much we still need to discuss. Your future, Aegon, is just beginning."
Aegon nodded, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. He couldn't think beyond the haze of the moment, the warmth of her touch still lingering on his skin. The fire inside him burned brighter now, but it was not the fire of a dragon. It was the fire of something darker, something he wasn't sure he could control.
The Empress smiled once more before turning away, her figure slipping back into the shadows of the room, leaving Aegon alone with his thoughts, the weight of her promises pressing down on him like a heavy cloak.
As he stood to leave, the full gravity of what had just transpired settled over him. He had crossed a line. He had entered a world of power and danger, and now there was no turning back. He was Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar, carrying the blood of past kings.
But in that moment, as he walked through the quiet halls of the Jade Palace, he wasn't sure if he had gained something,— or lost everything.
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| Author's Ending Note: Thoughts? |