Chapter Text
Aegon is leaving the sept with Alicent and Helaena when the riot begins; rage overwhelms him as he watches a foul-smelling fish hit his mother’s cheek, and he is about to order his guards to apprehend the culprit. But soon, the shouting people around them start to multiply, and all he can think about is getting them to safety.
‘Protect them! Get them to the carriage!’ he shouts to his friend and royal guard as he sees those filthy hands tugging at Helaena’s dress sleeve. His guard seems torn between following his orders and protecting him while the others appear to be swallowed up by the crowd.
He is soon separated from them as hands also surround him; he tries to push them away with violent flailing, and when he finally catches a glimpse of Alicent and Helaena being taken to the carriage, he opts for the best choice available at that moment. He runs.
Many follow him, shouting ‘murderer’ and ‘usurper’ among other choice insults he can’t fully understand as he tries to get away. They are hungry and desperate, and Aegon truly believes they would tear him apart and eat his fresh flesh if it meant one less day of their stomachs growling.
He turns the corner quickly and slips into a narrow alley that leads to an even narrower one. He scares the rats out of his path while running continuously, his heart pounding at its limit, and relieved to hear the crowd farther away. He needs to hide or they’ll find him.
He finds refuge in an apparently empty forge and closes the door behind him, grabbing the thick, large piece of wood leaning against the side to brace it across the middle, securing it. The place seems devoid of life since most of the people are searching for him in the more prominent areas.
He’ll has everyone executed for trying to capture his family, for trying to capture him, and very likely for trying to kill him.
Breathing heavily, he can’t stop staring at the door as he steps backward, as if expecting them to magically know he’s there and break it down. When the adrenaline eases a bit, he notices that all his limbs are trembling and he’s truly terrified.
He jumps when his back collides with something and immediately turns around. In front of him, a huge, portly man looks at him with curiosity; his appearance, though more grotesque and crude, reminds him of the killer of his son.
A shiver of fear and immense revulsion runs down his spine, but he raises his hand to prevent any attempt to alert his presence.
“Help me get out of here, and you’ll be handsomely rewarded. I give you my word.”
The man looks at him in silence for a few seconds before slowly smiling. The sight of his rotting teeth makes him feel nauseous, and he instinctively knows that this bastard won’t be on his side.
“The gods seem to have already rewarded me.” His deep voice accentuates his resemblance to that bastard
Aegon steps back, quickly scanning the place for another exit that doesn’t lead back to the crowd. But finding none, and noticing the man’s gaze turning into something that sends shivers down his spine—something he associates with brothels and alcohol—he decides he’d rather keep running than be trapped there with this beast.
He only has time to reach the door before an arm wraps around his neck and a filthy, stinking forearm presses against his throat, pinning his back to the larger, taller body.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but the next thing his mind can process after the desperate struggle is that his chest and cheek are pressed against a dusty table while his trousers are pulled down to his thighs and the man is thrusting inside him.
The green jacket with golden dragons embroidered by Helaena, the symbol of his house, lay on the floor while the white shirt he was still wearing was stretched and torn from the bastard’s pulling, exposing his shoulder and part of his back.
He stifles a sob as the man thrusts into him with more force.
“Our beautiful king is wise,” the man murmurs, his voice trembling with pleasure. “He knows that if he screams, the people will take turns fucking him.”
He desperately wants to beg him to stop, to tell him it hurts, to promise him something, to threaten him… All kinds of pleas and threats race through his mind chaotically, and he can’t piece any of them together. He’s not going to get out of there alive; everyone will know what happened when they find his body.
“This is what Targaryens are good for” the deep voice murmurs as it continues thrusting relentlessly. “Beautiful whores who rise above the people when they should be serving us.”
Aegon clenches his jaw as his knuckles drag over the wood of the table, and his tears soak it. He wants to burn that bastard alive for his words, for daring to do this to him.
He is the king, yet now he feels like anyone else; touched and defiled like a common whore.
The man buries his fingers in Aegon’s hair while maintaining an unbearably tight grip on his hips, thrusting even harder. Aegon murmurs a ‘please’ without daring to scream, but it is cruelly ignored.
Endless minutes pass before the man finally ejaculates, filling him with hot, blasphemous fluid. He rests his whole body against Aegon’s back, and Aegon exhales in surprise as he feels the weight crushing him.
“I can’t breathe” he murmurs urgently and desperately, and the man slightly pulls away but does not move off him.
‘This isn’t going to end. I take my opportunities.
Aegon knows he will fulfill his threat when his cock does not soften inside him despite the passage of time, and soon starts to pump again, like a beast. This time it takes him less time to climax, but the process repeats itself after a while. This time he pulls away and turns him onto his back, forcing him to look him in the face.
Aegon wants to vomit not only from the humiliation but also because of the striking resemblance of that bastard to the murderer of Jaehaerys, which is accentuated by his face filled with twisted delight. He wonders if he has come from hell to continue torturing him.
The bastard removes his pants and boots in one swift movement, then grabs his thighs from underneath to drag him back toward his cock and reinsert it. The position is uncomfortable, and Aegon has no choice but to press his thighs against the guy's hips to suffer less damage.
‘Damn, my king. I’ve never fucked anyone so beautiful,’ he says, pressing his palms on either side of Aegon’s face, drooling like a sick dog, and gazing at him with feverish desire as his cock thrusts in and out. ‘I can really tame a dragon with my cock.’"
His laughter, mixed with moans of pleasure, is disgusting, and Aegon has never wanted to kill someone so badly. He looks to his right with the sole intention of avoiding the sight of his damn face, and his heart stops for a moment when he sees, not far from reach, an old hammer—closer than it would have been before, thanks to being moved nearer when he was turned onto his back.
The man grabs his chin and forces him to look at him while he pumps away, and Aegon endures the gaze because a small hope of escaping has settled within him. He prays to the gods that he doesn’t notice and tightens his thighs and ass, intending to sink him further into the ignorance perpetrated by pleasure.
When the man bites his lips and closes his eyes, lifting his face slightly and speeding up his thrusts, Aegon extends his arm and grimaces as he barely touches the handle of the hammer with his fingers. He needs to grab it now or he won’t be able to.
Finally, aided by a painful shove, his fingers grasp the handle and he closes his grip around it. As the bastard’s thrusts become erratic and he opens his eyes to look at him, Aegon strikes with all the force he can muster from his position, hitting the man’s temple with the hammer.
The blow is precise, and the gleam in the bastard’s eyes dims in a blink. Aegon quickly gets up to push him backward. He falls onto the ground, dead.
Aegon watches him, breathing so heavily that he doesn’t believe there’s enough air around to oxygenate his lungs. He collapses to his knees as he tries to get off the table, his legs numb.
Tears stream down his cheeks as if from a river, but his mind is in shock. He needs to get out of there.