AN: Spellcheck keeps trying to tell me Debaucherous isn't a correct word but google secretly says that it is. I felt stubborn at first but I will finally concede and change it because it is bothering the hell out of me.

Okay world. Debaucherous had been a word to me yet now I mourn her.

I prefer short haired Daemon, I just doo. When he showed up in S1 with the crown and the boyish haircut, being a good brother and a sexy, smitten uncle, I was like, drooling dude. I mean, don't get me wrong, he looks great either way, but dang. Plus all the naughty stuff he was doing with Rhaenyra… I will never recover, actually.

Tiny trigger warning toward the end of the chapter for mentions of dubious acts on Aegon's part, mildly descriptive, though he is mostly just remembering past deeds as his character is far more reformed in this story.

A Dance with Deviance
Chapter Three

-\-O-/-

"Daemon. What are you doing?" Daenerys whispered, instinctually pulling her robe more tightly. Her arms crossed awkwardly to cover herself as Daemon floated toward her with his usual gait of unbridled arrogance and charm.

"No need to be so alarmed, princess," he cooed, but Daemon had known she would be this way. He savored how she looked in her bedclothes, a long gown which revealed a bit more than he had bargained for, the neckline a deep upside-down triangle.

He watched as she cowered from him, shivering slightly even though it was warm and toasty with heat blazing from the crackling fireplace. Her decolletage was prickled with an attractive bit of gooseflesh, flushed pink. She had been frightened, yet the sight of him had stimulated her. He found it distinctly arousing.

Dany's gaze drifted over his form, inwardly attempting to soothe the swelling of her nerves. All the wine she had previously indulged in had flown straight from her body, suddenly sobered.

Daemon did not wear any armor, only a disheveled white tunic with a wide-open vest that swung as he walked. She was acutely aware of the sound his black leather trousers made as they stretched against his long legs.

"Drinking again?" he questioned when she remained silent.

Her arms fell, turning away as she did not know what to do with her hands, fiddling with her fingers. "Just a bit." Daenerys was trying to keep herself from glancing back at that twinkling, knowing stare.

He was gaining in on her. "But not too much, I gather."

Daenerys shook her head.

If he were going to be here, Daemon wanted to know she would not be so easily taken advantage of. That would ruin all his enjoyment, and if she were obliterated on wine she might not remember the things he so very needed her to.

"Is there a specific reason for your visit, my king?" she then queried, further pinching her robe together as she stared down at her desk.

Daemon drummed a set of knuckles along her vanity, inhaling the entrancing aromas around him as he drew in ever closer, licking his lips. "It smells… divine in here. I do wonder…"

He towered behind, his torso a hair's breadth away. She dared not move, inside her, that wanton tingling she desperately tried to ignore.

His nose drifted by Daenerys' mud brown curls, saccharine citrine and apples invigorating his senses. Wrists pulsating with electricity, his hands rising on their own, secretly tracing her shoulders though he did not touch.

"Mmm. Yes. It is you, Daenerys, not merely the room."

He knew the princess was what smelled so nice. She always had so and even better when she stunk of dragon smoke. This was only an excuse, a lowly con to get near. Any sleaze of a man could have seen the callow opportunity, but he was not so prideful as to use these tactics.

"You – ahem – did not state your reasoning, father?" Daenerys nudged, refusing to look at him. She thought addressing Daemon as father, which she rarely did to be honest, would ignite feelings of disgust or guilt in him, might deter him away.

Yet she would not be so lucky.

"Does a father," he pushed the word from his tongue lazily, uncaring. "…need a good reason?"

"I… suppose not." Dany shrugged, attempting to convey aloofness akin to the easy way Daemon did, but she had never been convincing with that. Her hands were distractingly clammy on the oak she clung to. "I only reckoned you'd come to heckle me some more about choosing a husband. And." She swallowed hard, her meager tone carrying more trepidation than she meant. "I can't help but be remiss, Daemon, does the hour of the bat not approach us? It's a bit… unseemly, I think."

Daemon coiled around her slowly, coolly – a snake. His leg brushed her hip as he circled, catching the material of her gown. Her heart lurched, belly all aflutter. He leaned an elbow casually upon the desk where he smirked softly up to her, compelling her to gaze at him.

She acquiesced, unwillingly taking in the appeal of his shortened yet messy white hair. Her mouth watered, eagerly eyeing the pale skin of his rippling throat, the snowy wisps amidst the hard muscles of his chest, exposed by the untied, loosened shirt.

He wetted his lips, satisfied as if he could read her mind. "Propriety is not what I'm known for."

Oh, she had heard stories, that was for certain. There had been faint whispers, vulgar tales about how he had seduced her mother when she was even far younger than Daenerys now. Daemon was Rhaenyra's uncle, but that had not stopped him, had it?

She did not know what she was supposed to say, and the deep fluster she felt only festered, intensified as Daemon's fingers toyed with bits of dress at her thigh.

He was rubbing the silk between his thumb and index, storm-cloud grey eyes sweeping over her rigid figure. Daenerys remained stone still, though she could not help the trembling, breathing deeply through her nose.

"Like a quivering doe," he murmured mostly to himself, and then, "Do you not have any idea what it takes to please a man?"

Now why in the world would he go and ask her something like that? As if such private, personal matters were any of his business. Yet despite herself, Dany's imagination surged, only serving her further agitation.

No one ever ventured to speak to her this way, not in this nature, so flippant and impious. Her Uncle Aemond never reduced himself so low, though his more recent behavior had been questionable, and not even Aegon, who fancied himself a lawless god of lechery and corruption, had never even so much as winked at her.

Alright, Aegon had winked at her before. He had occasionally spewed vulgarities, as he was known for, though never toward her, merely in her presence. That was all.

Over the years, the eldest prince had kept himself at a respectable distance and never crossed any lines, which she was obviously glad for, but how much credit could she actually give him?

Maybe Aegon found her unattractive, or by some miracle, had grown out of his devious, plundering ways. It was possible, but the logical, more curious part of her wondered if there was an unseen reason he had stayed away.

It would not feel shocking to Daenerys in the least, if Aemond, with all of his intimidation and strength, had perhaps put his brother in his place long ago, spoke to Aegon or threatened him, squandering any potential scandals.

"Do you not have any idea what it takes to please a man?"

Daemon's bold inquiry had hung tempestuously between them, Dany steaming through her ears like a searing kettle. She seethed with anger, jaw tight though the glare she stabbed her stepfather with only seemed to excite him more. "I've given it thought."

Of course, she had. She figured when the time came, married and at the mercy of her lord husband, she would finally learn about those things. What was Daemon playing at here?

His chuckle was blissfully dark and husky, layered with what felt like a promise. The sensual sound of it, vile yet so inviting, sought to pull her in like a magnet. "Mere thought won't be enough."

"Well," Daenerys huffed in disdain, mortified beyond repair, her stomach churning. "I'm certain my future husband will do just fine with – "

"Your future husband will tire of you easily, quicker than you can blink if you can't keep him happy in the sheets."

Dany's head spun, lungs expelled of oxygen. "Oh, right. S-Silly me." The pesky lump in her throat threatened to suffocate, but she stood her ground. "Well actually, I – I don't know, Daemon. I always hoped that my husband's principles, or better, his love for me, would keep him straying away, as it should."

Her eyes meant to scold Daemon, the dishonor written all over him. His wife would die on the spot if she heard how he spoke to her daughter, toying with her like this. Dany felt repulsed at herself for even allowing this conversation to transpire, for relishing at all in the way he'd been looking at her, drinking her in.

"It could, sure. But very rarely does it. Even love, however true, won't stop a man who's wicked blood boils for more."

"Then that is not real love."

Daenerys turned on her heel, fists balling at her sides. Daemon followed, undaunted, standing to his full height above her. There was an undeniable friction, a push and pull between them as he crowded in, pelvis swaying unto her, pressing himself above her hip.

Instincts on high alert, she tried to move from him before a hand was tangling in her hair, cradling firmly the back of her neck while another raked along her belly. He reeled her in, spidery fingers spanning and twisting lusciously her gown, holding her in place.

She was a hostage, shutting her eyes so tightly it had been enough to cause a brief, sharp pain in her forehead and she whimpered at her helplessness. She considered calling for the guards, yet Daemon was leaning into her, his warm breath puffing across her neck.

He was inhaling her sweet scents, hungered, his open, gasping mouth hovering at her ear. Daenerys, consumed by his rough and wild touch, shivered involuntarily from all the sensations.

"Those childish perspectives of yours won't save you, Daenerys… far too idealistic for your own good. Such expectations beg only for disappointment." His velvet lips skimmed softly, to and fro, the tender spot of her pulse point, drawing from her a pitiful, throaty moan without consent. "But it is your body, isn't it, which begs for something else entirely?" His digits foxed the underside of her breasts, tantalizing, thrumming with the pads of his fingers. "It begs for me."

His tongue tasted her, swirling a scorching path of wet kisses along her neck, dragging his teeth, biting and suckling at her. Small, sad sounds fell from Dany's throat, unable to comprehend reality.

Daemon coasted her curves, his touch slow but mercurial, ruthless. He teased a ghosting palm over the sensitive, aroused buds that pointed so lewdly at him from beneath her sheer gown. Daenerys' breath had hitched, keening in her delectation.

She could feel his arousal, solid as stone crushing against her through his tight leather. He tipped her head back to better peruse her with his mouth, tugging and twisting up her cascading tendrils before squeezing hard the place just at the shelf of her arse.

Waves of disgust saturated her with shame and guilt, yet the piece of her that allowed him to continue, the piece that kept her from screaming out for help, was the sinful part of her that cried for more.

What he had just accused her of… Daemon was right. Her body was giving it all away, giving away what she so valiantly pretended wasn't true. She was enjoying this, and she hated herself for that.

Though her hate for him was tenfold. This was his fault, initially, and she could not believe he dared do this. The audacity… and when she had stupidly given him the benefit, the trust he so did not deserve.

"Show me how you kiss, princess."

It did not feel like a request, his breathing gruff and thick with urgency, ragged as her own.

Dany's skin was blazing, appalled at her lack of self-restraint. Her dark, lust-infused eyes glinted with rage beneath heavy lashes. "I-I cannot."

"You can."

The fire of the wine she'd drunk had slowly oozed back in, braiding her with warmth, heady and hazy. "But Daemon, I… I've never – "

"All the more reason to, then." He did not let go of Daenerys, afraid she might scurry, and propped himself atop the desk. "You must learn. Better now than when it's too late." He forced her slight figure between his knees, a near iron grip on the small of her waist.

She could sense the manipulation, the blatant deceit on his silver tongue, but there she stayed, leaning into his touch, bashful gaze glittering. Perhaps he had a point. What if a bit of practice did help her in the long run? Daenerys did not want to be completely unprepared. She had always yearned to know what it was like, to kiss... but with Daemon?

It felt preposterous. He had helped to raise her. Dany did not think he would ever be helping with... with something like this. It felt wrong on so many levels, though she could not bring herself to object. She was certain he had entranced her, must have cast a jinx upon her.

Daemon could admit, he felt a bit jarred that she had never yet shared a kiss with another. She was so alluring and vivacious; it made it all the more hard to believe that none of the men of the castle, including Rhaenyra's brothers, had ever made a move on her.

"Now then," he began. "Close the space between us, and – "

Petrified, though feeling some cheek coming on, Daenerys leaned in quickly and pressed a fleeting, chaste kiss onto the corner of his parted, surprised lips. "There."

Her stepfather shook his head slowly, not completely unenthused. "Stirring, but no. Not like that. Lie your mouth directly upon mine, as if they were two perfect pieces fitting together."

"Two perfect pieces." She repeated and he gave her a nod, his sharp grey eyes luring her to oblige.

So she did.

Dany rested her tiny hands upon his chest, closing her eyes. She allowed her lips to ever so gingerly, and properly this time, find his.

Daemon took in air through his nose, savoring the lush wetness of her soft, pliant mouth as she moved sweetly over him. He did not mind her inexperience at all, practically vibrating with his desire.

His thumbs traced her ribs, almost trembling himself at the loss of contact when she pulled away. "Much better," he praised after a staggering moment, strangely having trouble meeting her gaze. He hadn't expected to feel so… so swept away. "Now, princess. Do that again, opening your lips slowly. I want to taste your tongue."

In a swirl of disassociation, determinedly forgetting who she was, Daenerys did as ordered. She repeated her last steps, their mouths coming together. As asked, her lips split open for him and Daemon's tongue smoothed onto hers, splicing her mouth further apart.

Her body wedged closer within his confines and his grip on her only tightened. Her hands flittered over his jaw as they met breath for breath, down his throat behind him where her fingers threaded the longer bits by the nap of his neck. He groaned against her, the rapacious greed inside carrying him as his teeth drew in her buxom bottom lip, suckling and nibbling her sufficiently, pruriently.

Dany's knees quaked beneath beyond her control, weakened yet impassioned as her tongue played along to his game. She matched his slippery entanglements, returning his bruising idles and sucks, his every turn of the head.

Though he would deny it, Daemon had been wanting this, with her, had longed to feel that pillowy mouth in his kiss ever since she had come of age. He had loved Rhaenyra, he still did. His queen was every bit the blood of the dragon, but Daenerys felt different, ever more a forbidden fruit.

Daemon was usually so cool and calculated. He made a great effort to never let anything faze him, yet here he was freefalling. Of all the things he might do, getting too caught up would not be one of them, and if his lawfully wedded wife were to find out what he was up to... it would not bode well for him, he was afraid.

Their lips unglued, and Daemon prided himself on the swollen redness he'd produced upon her tenderized pout. "Very good, Daenerys... a natural."

A smile tugged at Daenerys but she felt she had enjoyed this all far too much. Her insides roiled with desire, escalating so fast, all of her fear came swarming back. It was almost as if she were snapping out of it.

She pulled herself out of his embrace and gratefully, he let go. If she looked at him, she might get sucked in again. Crossing her arms in a meager attempt at self-protection, Dany sashayed back over to her vanity with a strange solemnness, though her heart was still racing.

Daemon could tell she had reached a limit, and he dared not cross her boundaries, lest he never get to take pleasure in her company again. "I believe you've had enough." He offered, getting up from the desk. He walked toward the shadowy servant's corridor, the reluctance evident in his swagger.

Though he planned to do this with her again, to see just how far he could go, he did not say so. The hour was late, it was true, and the longer he risked remaining there in her room, the higher chance there was he'd be caught.

He glanced back, lingering at the door. "Goodnight, princess."

Then he vanished and Daenerys let out a huge sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping. She had no idea how it was, the sudden emptiness that had her now wallowing – a neglected lust that had her reeling, and her deep, stabbing shame.

-\-O-/-

Earlier that eve, Aegon had led Jacaerys through the hallways downstairs where eventually they came upon one of the spare dining halls that were usually utilized for large amounts of guests.

It was dark and empty, and Jacaerys, though loosened from the wine, still felt wary. He did wish, truly, that he could be more fluid, taking beat, every hit as they came like the other members of his family.

"Hm." Aegon tapped his chin, eyes alight with false puzzlement as he took in the long dining table before him. "Why are all these plates and dishes still out? They should be put away."

He began refilling their cups again and Jace's eyes narrowed.

"More?" He questioned and one of Aegon's brows quirked.

"We need wine to live, Jace. It's sustenance, and oft safer than water."

"Yes, I know, but it dulls the senses. Too much, and – "

"Oh, here we go again." Aegon sighed, setting down his goblet and leaning over the table. His gaze sparkled with mischief at his nephew. "You know what you need?" Like an ornery cat, a few of his fingers slid slyly, a delicate glass chalice from the edge of the table until it fell, shattering into bits on the floor.

The silence that followed after was deafening.

At first he was startled, but Jacaerys' eyes returned the sparkle then, overcome with a sudden rush of excitement. A long time ago as children they would practice similar antics, tomfoolery all over the castle. The guards hadn't been able to keep up with them, most always escaping justice.

Aegon gestured to the table, goading him on. A coy smirk played at Jace's lips. His body moved on its own, picking up a small white plate.

He pressed his fingers lightly against it, giving it almost a mournful look as if to say, 'goodbye' before promptly tossing it straight down. The ceramic pieces erupted at his boots, hitting his shins and Jacaerys peered all around at the broken bits that had once been whole, pristine. For once, he felt enthralled.

He stared at Aegon who grinned back with barely contained approval, the crackling air around them at the highest voltage, diabolical.

One by one, they took turns picking up fine platters and bowls, smashing them against the stone walls, the floor. They flung various cutlery and ornaments at one another in battle, attempting to dodge each other, forks and spoons whipping past their heads. Aegon attempted to juggle two goblets and a small vase, both tumbling one by one to the ground and they both cackled in their drunken mirth.

Jacaerys had not felt such enjoyment in ages. He reveled in the shards of glass and crystal, the ceramics that crunched and splintered below his feet as he and Aegon pranced around the room, his reckless abandon. He felt free, somehow powerful.

Unfortunately, it did not take long before the clanking footsteps of guards were heard rushing toward them, and giggling like mad, Jace and his uncle made a run for it.

They sprinted down the halls as fast as they could manage, tipping over armor, a statue that'd been minding its own business crashing to the ground. The thundering sounds of their boots, the armors crashing, reverberated through the walls and in Jace's ears; he couldn't even hear his own laughter.

He winded after Aegon through corridor after corridor, up a spiraling staircase before he quickly snatched Jacaerys away into a small alcove behind one of the huge tapestries.

More guards and castle denizens marched past but could not see them as they flattened against the wall, attempting to keep their labored breathing quiet.

As if it were not difficult already to intake air, Jacaerys felt Aegon's fingers skimming his own. Any other time he might've ignored it, but with a strength he wasn't sure he had, Jace's hooded eyes found his uncle's casual, lackadaisical smirk.

Aegon was splaying his hand over his then in a tightening grip and Jacaerys' thumping heart was wild, pounding against his chest to get out.

He did not know what it meant, holding hands with Aegon like this, but strangely it felt… right. All of it, like the nonsensical behavior they had just partook in, laughing and carrying on like old times; like when he was merely a boy and followed his uncle around everywhere. He'd wanted to be everything like him, stars in his eyes until he had finally seen Aegon for what he really was – a no-good degenerate.

Yet now, the way Aegon felt so close to him… it titillated Jacaerys straight to his loins. He could feel hardly any of the repulsion he felt when Aegon had leered at him in the bath, and any repulsion he did feel here and now, threatened to open an untapped world that Jacaerys was not sure he was ready for yet.

It was taboo. This man was his blood relative, his mother's brother. It was disgusting and outrageous.

But what was Jace to make of how much that fact somehow enticed him?

It did not matter that his mother, the queen had married her direct uncle herself. It was supposed to be wrong. He warred with this back and forth in his mind as he listened to all the footsteps fade through the distance.

"Jacaerys," Aegon sung to him inquisitively when they were sure they were finally alone. "What's going on in that brooding brain of yours now?"

"Nothing," said Jace, unlatching his fingers and stepping away from the wall. Aegon was completely unconvinced.

"We left the wine downstairs!" He seethed suddenly, groaning in displeasure and grabbing Jace's hand again. "Let's go find more."

Jacaerys objected, pulling Aegon back behind the tapestry. "Wait." He watched Aegon's reddened tongue undulate inside his open mouth as he gazed down to him in surprise, a brow arched in question. "You do not need more, uncle."

Aegon huffed, a playful roll of his eyes. "Okay, mother," His lips were dangerously close. Jacaerys instinctively licked his own, tongue darting over the cut he still sported as he glared his uncle down. "You may be right, but you're not going to stop me."

Aegon proceeded to try and retreat but Jace held him closer, gripping at his clothing. Jacaerys' dark walnut eyes burned with a hungry fire, scintillating, inviting Aegon in.

"What are you doing, Jacaerys?" he cooed, his tongue riddled with flirtation.

"Stopping you."

Aegon chuckled, his nose brushing briefly along Jace's. "This isn't really stopping me."

Jacaerys searched Aegon's face, wondering, coming to conclusions, their breath mingling. "Isn't it though?" He murmured quietly and Aegon's fingers lifted, grazing ever so gently his nephew's perfectly cut angled jaw. Jace leaned in slightly before pulling away with his indecision.

Aegon held in his snicker, giving Jacaerys one tiny little, patronizing smack on his cheek. "Its past your bedtime, nephew." He removed himself from Jacaerys' person, Jace's fingers extended outward, almost as if to grab him right back again though he did not.

Aegon swept out from the alcove and disappeared down the hall as fast as he could, leaving Jacaerys high and dry.

It was all a part of his plan. He was playing 'hard to get', as they might say, teasing and coy, and it seemed to be working. He hadn't been completely sold on it before, but now Aegon was certain of his nephew's nature.

He desired the touch of a man, and Aegon wanted to be the one to give Jacaerys the pleasure he so clearly longed for.

Jacaerys was too beautiful. Aegon loved his prominent, dignified nose, that sharp jaw that tilted so handsomely. Jace's plump, full mouth, plush and jutting, was a lewd thing all on its own. They beckoned him, those lips, his warm brown eyes swirling with passion, luring him in. Aegon had needed to refrain himself, far too used to diving headfirst.

He could have taken what he had wanted from Jace any time, really. Aegon could have kissed him and shoved him against the wall. He could have popped his prick into Jacaerys' plump, protesting pout, could have bent him across the wall and roughly claimed the prince but… that never made it much fun.

Aegon found he did not feel pleasure for such wickedly cruel deeds as he once had. It had all made him feel vastly evil, and not the good kind. He had slowly realized that they boy who had acted out those terrible, unforgivable deeds was not who he aligned himself with anymore. That monster was not who he wanted to be...

The screams of his innocent victims haunted him still, his sleep scarce and unrestful. He had to quell the relentless ghosts of his past with constant wine and liquor, though it hardly helped.

His mother had been exceedingly glad for his change, though she still despised him, and thankfully, the maids no longer hid and withered away when they came to his rooms or passed by him in the halls. It had subsequently made him feel horrible, as it should have. His guilt had seeped into his soul in ways he would never be able to undo.

Aegon wanted Jacaerys to lust for him just as much. The young prince was more than curious about him, he could tell. Aegon could spot these things as soon as they flourished, and Jacaerys' apparent interest might be just enough to garner even more.

It was a victory, not that he had doubted himself of course, and as Aegon fell into bed he began plotting his next moves.

Jacaerys would be begging for it before Aegon was through.

-\-O-/-

AN: so sorry, no Aemond this chapter but he will be back in the next. He will never stay away for too long. Love you's xx