Sibling (and half-sibling) incest, a drabble collection.
Oberyn Martell/Elia Martell
"He will not love you as I do," he had told her, but then he was always telling her news to the discredit of all her suitors. This one chewed his food too loudly, that one farted too often, this Targaryen prince was dark, dangerous and unpredictable behind his sad, mournful countenance.
"Dark, dangerous and unpredictable? That reminds me of someone else," she had japed, willing him to smile, willing him to laugh. He refused; absolutely, adamantly, belligerently refused to do so.
"Doran married for love. Mother allowed him to do so without a word of censure. Why shouldn't we be allowed the same privilege?"
"Our brother did not lust for his own blood," she replied, telling him the obvious.
"There is nothing wrong with lust," he told her. "Lust breeds love. Or have you forgotten that, now that you are to leave Dorne?"
"I am Elia of Dorne. In my heart I will never leave Dorne."
But you will leave me, he thought, and I will let you, because to his own disgust, he knew that he was not nearly as wicked and as fearless as it was often rumored.
Arthur Dayne/Ashara Dayne
When he found Rhaegar with the Stark girl, he could not bring himself to judge, to censor, to condemn. He who had wanted what he could not have, what he must not have, forbidden by his vows and her blood - how could he judge his prince for giving in to his own wanting?
"We are not Targaryens," they had whispered to each other, pushing, pulling away, refuting, denying, always denying, until one night there was no denial to be had. They had fallen, fallen into an embrace, fallen into each other, but always, always, that first time and then all the others, there was never any confusion about who they each were, and what they wanted from the other.
"We are not one. You are not me, and I am not you." He loved her for the woman that she had become, not the image he sought in the mirror. She wanted him for the man that he was, not her double who by virtue of being born with a cock had far greater freedom in the world than she did.
He stared at the Stark girl with her growing belly, and thought of his sister and the child growing in her belly, the one they had made together.
Aegon Targaryen/Orys Baratheon
"A dragon egg. Would you like that, Orys? Riding your own dragon someday."
"I'd like to keep my life and not be burned to death, thank you."
"You have the blood. The Targaryen blood. We both know it."
"Aye, but not the full blood, not like yours. Only a bastard born on the wrong side of the blanket. Maybe the dragons could smell that. Your Balerion certainly never took to me."
"Balerion is jealous."
"Jealous? Of me? Whatever for?"
"Because he knows."
"He knows? The dragon knows what, exactly?"
"He knows where my … affection … truly lies."
"He knows where your hands have been. And your mouth. And your –"
"Hush. My sisters are close by."
"Your wives, you mean."
"Yes. And they are at this very moment graciously entertaining your own wife, Orys."
"Ah yes. The wife you commanded me to wed. How could I forget?"
"We each have our duty, brother."
"Of course, my king."