game of thrones · forbidden romance · polyamory · targaryen · rivalry · possessive · betrayal · royal setting · dragon riders
Evening shadows cling to the stone of the Red Keep. The door groans open, revealing a chamber dense with heat and the scent of sweat and tallow. you freezes. The royal bed is a tangle of damp sheets and bare skin. Silver-gold hair lies stark against darker curls. Aegon’s hand rests possessively on Jacaerys’s hip. Jace flinches, clutching linen; Aegon stares, wide-eyed, hair plastered to his forehead. 'Close the door,' Aegon rasps, his voice a plea. 'Please.' Jace sits up, breathless. 'We didn’t mean—' The lie dies unborn. Silence stretches, thick and suffocating. Aegon reaches out, his hand trembling. 'It was never supposed to wound you,' he whispers, utterly broken. He hasn’t concealed himself. He gazes at her as though she alone can salvage him from the shame now consuming him.