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Hands on Daemon's body woke him up that night, immediately reaching for his sword. It was an instinct by now. Everything here had been hard to understand, frustrating and frightening all at once. He found himself more on edge, but a familiar laugh had his hand relaxing a bit.

When he placed whose voice it was, he nearly reached for it again. He looked down between his thighs where someone was settled on the bed with him. Peering through the dim light, he could make out the pale hair of his nephew. That wide grin was plastered on Aegon's face and he knew he wasn't real. But he was. Did it matter if he wasn't physically here if it affected Daemon all the same?

Aegon being across the water didn't fill Daemon with any less anger. It didn't make the hands on his thighs feel any less warm, any less real.

"Do you intend to kill me, uncle?" And that voice echoed like it was actually here, a perfect copy of how Aegon sounded.

"We'll see," Daemon murmured back to him, although his fingers completely retreated from his sword.

Fingers eased Daemon's clothing aside and he should stop this. This was far from the worst thing he had seen during his stay here, this seemed to be a relief in comparison to everything else. Besides that fact, trying to stop these visions had never done much for him. They never left him alone.

When those same fingers wrapped around his soft cock, any chance of him stopping this disappeared. The pace began slowly, almost gentle as he stroked Daemon. His cocked hardened at a leisurely pace, his body not nearly as relaxed as he needed to be. He was too tense being here.

But he did eventually grow stiff in Aegon's hand. Aegon's skin was warm, wrapped perfectly tight around his cock. His movements weren't coordinated, although it didn't matter much. All that mattered was having someone touch him like this.

His body arched towards Aegon when wet lips wrapped around the head of his cock. He couldn't remember the last time someone had done this for him. Aegon's mouth was hot around him, tightening when he hollowed his cheeks to suck at the sensitive tip.

Daemon closed his eyes, deciding to let himself simply enjoy this as much as he could. The sense of calm that usually found him during this evaded him. As good as it felt, he kept waiting for something to go wrong. For the moment when all of this turned into a nightmare instead.

He reached down, taking Aegon's hair in hand. He guided him down further, controlling the pace. If he was going to be visited by Aegon's apparition or whatever this was, he was going to get what he wanted from it. His cock buried itself halfway down Aegon's throat, only stopping when Aegon gagged.

A sense of satisfaction rolled through him at the sound and the way Aegon's throat convulsed. Here was his brother's long-awaited son, choking on his cock like a common whore. His little usurper of a nephew so eager for him that he didn't even stop Daemon from fucking his face.

His fingers tightened and moved Aegon's head, pulling him away just a bit before forcing him back down. He suckled around him, clearly inexperienced when it came to this. And that did surprise him. He had always suspected Aegon was going to bed with anyone who would have him, regardless of whether they were a man or woman.

Aegon didn't try to push away from him, though. He could be entirely inexperienced as long as he kept his mouth on him. Daemon guided him down further, shuddering at the wet gag that left Aegon when his throat tried to adjust. Still, he didn't pull away. Whore.

His fingers curled tightly around Daemon's hips, trying to relax his throat. With a firmer nudge, Daemon buried himself all the way inside of Aegon's throat. He was impossibly tight and Daemon thought he might spill just like this.

"Gods," He breathed out, holding Aegon there and letting his throat work around him.

This was his nephew's true calling. Not stealing a throne, not pretending to be a king. He should spend his days taking true Targaryens, taking Daemon.

Eventually, Daemon did let go of his hair to let him get a breath. Aegon gasped when he was finally able to, sounding broken. Almost as soon as he pulled off, he was taking Daemon again.

He took only the head inside at first, licking around it. The tip of his tongue flicked over his slit and his hips nearly jerked to bury himself inside again. This was good, though. Perhaps he'd been mistaken about Aegon being inexperienced. Maybe he just wasn't used to someone as long as Daemon.

He groaned when Aegon sucked at the head of his cock. His hand wrapped around the middle of Daemon. Aegon took Daemon deeper, his hand pressing down along with it. He stroked everything he wasn't taking, his saliva easing the way. It seemed like sensation was everywhere on Daemon, nearly overwhelming.

Aegon fell into a good pace, not overexerting himself. He swallowed around Daemon, not taking him fully this time. It still pulled a gasp from Daemon, heat tightening around him.

Time seemed to crawl on around them. The world minimized until all that existed was Aegon pleasing him. The firm pressure of his hand, the soft inside of his mouth, the way he moaned around Daemon's cock.

Daemon didn't warn him before he finished, despite knowing he was close. Instead, he just pressed a hand to the back of Aegon's head in case he tried to pull away. The first pulse of Daemon's cock seemed to catch Aegon off guard, instinctively pushing back a bit.

"Swallow," Daemon demanded gently, keeping Aegon's head in place.

Aegon let out a noise around him, but surprisingly, he did start swallowing. He struggled to take it all, growing overwhelmed by how much Daemon spilled. All the same, Daemon held him there until the last waves of pleasure rolled through him. Then a bit longer as Aegon finished swallowing all he had been given.

He let him go only then, groaning when Aegon licked his head clean. His skin was growing oversensitive, but he didn't push Aegon away. Soon enough, he moved away on his own.

"It seems you have your uses after all," Daemon murmured.

"I should," Aegon spoke as though he hadn't just gotten him off.

Daemon opened his eyes again and looked down at him. A deep frown found his face as he caught sight of him. Aegon had that too wide grin on his face again, Rhaenyra's crown sitting on his head like a taunt.

Maekar was still awake when his oldest barged into his chambers. He looked up from the papers he'd been trying to read, but his mind wouldn't focus enough to let him. Eyebrows furrowed, surprised to see Daeron so late. He should be asleep by this hour, although Maekar knew he spent more nights than not at the inns.

"Why are you still awake?" Maekar asked, his tone a bit harsh without meaning for it to be.

His face softened when he noticed the tears on his son's cheeks. He was sure this had been difficult on his children too. It was easy at times to forget they were bothered by these sorts of things. They all tended to act so unaffected by hardship going on around them. Daeron had always been his most sensitive child.

"Father," Daeron choked out, stumbling his way across the room.

Maekar rose immediately, meeting his son in the middle. Daeron basically collapsed into him once he was close enough. He wrapped his arms around Daeron and held him upright, urging him close. It seemed to break something inside of him.

The second his father's arms were around him, he let out a shaky sob and pressed his face deeper into his chest. It had been such a long time since Maekar had held any of his older children. He tightened his hold on Daeron and one hand made its way into his hair.

Strands were greasy and sweat-soaked, but he didn't mind. He didn't even think about it. His boy could have been covered in dirt and Gods only know what else, and he still would have done the same.

He didn't have to ask what was causing so much pain, not after everything that had happened. The trial had been stressful on Daeron and Baelor's death had shook the realm. Being drunk certainly didn't help either. Of the few times that Maekar had tried it, he'd ended up a crying mess.

"Come. Lay down with me," Maekar tried to encourage, worried Daeron might end up falling. "You'll feel better that way."

It was difficult to maneuver them there, especially because Daeron refused to part with him. He didn't bother trying to get Daeron's shoes off, knowing the task would be too difficult. They finally made it to the safety of the bed, escaping the risk of Daeron collapsing to the floor and taking his father with him.

Immediately, Daeron pressed into Maekar's chest, clinging to him. When Daeron was a child, he would sleep in the bed between Maekar and Dyanna. All of their children did once, but Daeron had for the longest.

His son trembled in his arms, crying openly now. Maekar had never expected things to feel so empty. Even with Daeron being a man grown, he felt the absence of Dyanna with them. He longed for Baelor to be here to give him advice, to remind him to be patient. He worried for Aegon, wherever he had run off to, and he missed the quiet presence of Aemon.

"It's going to be alright," Maekar assured him, although he wasn't sure how much he believed it himself. "My sweet boy. I've got you."

He wasn't certain how they were all meant to go on after this. Baelor had been the last person he had to support him. Now, he was left to care for his children on his own. And to a lesser extent, Baelor's sons as well. He'd always loved them as his own, he would look after them too.

All he knew for sure was that his children wouldn't need to go through any of this alone. He had them, no matter how hard things became for them all. All he needed to focus on now was his children. Every part of his own grief needed to be tied up neatly and put somewhere out of the way.

He didn't have time to be weak, to fall apart. The realm needed a new heir, his father needed a new Hand, and his own children needed their last remaining parent. He didn't need to sit and cry over his loss. Instead, he needed to support Valarr in the difficult road ahead. He needed to be there for his sons and daughters. He needed to find his youngest boy.

It all seemed so overwhelming. Baelor had been with him for every step from the moment Maekar was born. He'd never had to walk on his own. Tears burned behind his own eyes and he reminded himself he needed to remain strong.

He held Daeron tighter, though he wasn't sure if that was possible. Daeron had been clinging to him the entire time, holding him like he may disappear if his grasp loosened. Come tomorrow, Maekar could focus on the rest of his responsibilities.

For now, he told himself the only thing he needed to do was take care of Daeron. He pressed a kiss to his oldest son's head and kept his face in his hair. He smelled of wine and faintly of blood. Maekar added cleaning off Daeron's cheek to the list of things he needed to do.

Knowing him, he wasn't taking good enough care of the wound to his face. It looked horrible, but he was just grateful he hadn't lost him too. He'd been so certain he was about to lose both of his sons all in one day. Daeron was so warm and real in his arms, bringing him some bit of comfort.

"I dreamed it," Daeron choked out and Maekar gave no answer, unsure of what to say. "I see it all. I saw the," His voice trailed off. "The dragon. It won't fly again. And the knight. The knight."

His words were incoherent. Everything seemed to blur together in Daeron's words, sentence fragments that were disjointed. Maekar stroked his hair, urging him closer to his own body. He knew Daeron was haunted by his dreams, he had been for quite some time. Maekar had never known how to handle them, though. He felt so out of his depth with Daeron, with all his children if he was honest.

"Hush now," He murmured to him. "Try to get some rest."

Daeron trembled in his arms and continued mumbling into his shoulder. Although, the words were too quiet to discern and Daeron appeared to be talking to himself more than anything else. He continued crying and Maekar kept him close, occasionally offering soft reassurances.

Maekar wasn't sure how much time had passed before Daeron fell asleep. He had stayed awake for far longer than Maekar expected, but his crying finally tapered off. His breathing became even and his arms had gone limp around Maekar.

"I love you," He whispered to him.