Visenya's Apartments

When Aegon came to her door, Visenya immediately congratulated herself on having worn her new gown with the Myrish lace sleeves. It set off her figure so wonderfully that she had spent several minutes just admiring herself and the careful work of the seamstress who had made almost invisible seams in the fine fabric.

"Welcome back to the capitol, Aegon. You look so well! The beard suits you, I think," she said enthusiastically, showing him to a cushion-strewn settee. She pushed some of them unceremoniously to the floor and sat, reaching for a decanter of wine and glasses for them both. She resisted the urge to throw her arms around him and to return the kiss of so long ago (or so it seemed) and instead settled for filling two glasses. "I am so glad to see you, and so glad that you fared well in the battle."

The gleam of delight in Visenya's eyes slowly died as she looked from Aegon's face to the favor in his hands. She did not touch it, did not take it, merely gripped the stem of her wine glass more tightly in her hand. "You..." She felt horribly betrayed. He had not promised her anything, that was true, but she felt a kiss from "Septon Aegon" was worth a hundred from Jaime Westerling. She had felt sure it meant more. She steeled herself not to cry. She was Visenya Targaryen, named for the warrior queen. Aegon's warrior queen, she thought, and then the tears came and she could not stop them.

"Do...did I mean nothing to you then?" she managed to ask quietly, not lifting her eyes from the favor that drooped between his fingers.

Visenya looked up again, ready to meet his eyes. "I believe you were frightened. I...I want to say that I understand, but I really don't." She ventured forth her hand, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and squeezing tightly. It felt wrong to touch him, but once her skin touched his, it was so warm that she changed her mind. "War is difficult, I know that, especially after seeing my sister. Oh, Aegon, she is so shaken!"

"I could forgive you, you know. Facing death, facing the possibility of being forever maimed...men cannot be expected to always keep their wits at such times." She put her glass aside and edged infinitesimally closer. "We could still be together, if I still have meaning to you at all, dear cousin." She touched his face, liking the feel of his newly grown stubble rough against her palm.

Visenya snatched her hand back as though burned. Her own sister, playing the slattern! And to think, she had cried on Visenya's shoulder. She had ruined good silk with her traitor tears. Visenya had had her tears under control, ready to forgive Aegon everything, but now her lips trembled uncontrollably and her hands became fists. The girl would pay for what she had done, for seducing Aegon from underneath her.

"My sister? And did she come to your bed, or did you go to hers?" she asked, her voice coming more calmly than she could have hoped.

"Yes, it matters!" Her voice rose sharply in pitch, and she fought to control herself, to stabilize. "It matters because all my thoughts have been of you. Do you think men did not seek to woo me these past five months? Do you think I was not sorely tempted to take one to my bed? I was, Aegon. I was lonely, but I thought of my favor." She snatched the useless scrap of hair and ribbon and silver up and pressed it to his heart. "I thought of it, here, against your heart, and I thought of all the things we would share when you returned. Aegon, cousin..."

Her voice broke and she began to cry again. The favor slipped from her fingers to lie, crumpled, on the forgotten cushions at their feet. "I thought we could be happy together, that I could give you love and understanding, and that my heart could live free in yours. Was I so wrong to think these things?"

His heart had not been true. There it was. The horrible truth. Not his lustful, earthly body, but his heart. She drew back again, her tears drying themselves as she realized how wrong it was to believe in love. There was no such thing, not for people like her. "I wish you happiness, Aegon. But...will you give me one thing?"

"I would have you give me what you gave her. One night is all I ask of you." She looked at him imploringly.

"It would not dishonor me. For a man and a woman who desire one another to lie together is not wrong." She touched the button at her neck, hesitantly. She bit her quivering lower lip. "Do you not desire me, Aegon?"

Visenya let the button go, then another, revealing a tempting sliver of bare breast. "I understand," she murmured, moving closer to him. Her hand brushed his thigh, pausing to appreciate the warmth that radiated from his body before traveling slowly upward. "We cannot marry, but we can have this night to consummate our love that could not last." Her finger pressed against his lips. "And no one has to know, Aegon, except you and I."

She could feel how strongly he wanted her. She could hear it in his voice. She could see his body react, even as his mind reeled.

A few more buttons and her breasts threatened to spill out of her bodice. With her curls cascading down her back and her gown slipping lower and lower on her shoulders, Visenya was the very image of alluring deshabille. "I am a Targaryen of the blood royal. I do not answer to the realm." She straddled him and put her arms around his shoulders. She leaned in and brushed her lips against the sensitive skin of his throat, crushing her voluptuousness against him and grinding her hips against the slowly swelling body in his breeches.

Visenya fell back against the couch, her left breast bouncing out of the fabric that barely contained them. She stared up at him, in shock, hardly believing what was happening. Could he really be refusing her, leaving her there after she had offered him everything? Tears welled up in her eyes. She looked pathetic and she knew it.

"No, stay," she begged.