Work Text:
Daeron had been raised far away from the home where he was born. Ever since he was little, his mother had entrusted him to House Hightower, hoping that a quiet and disciplined environment would shape him into a better person than his older siblings.
That was where he grew up, beneath the roof of House Hightower, led by his uncle, Ormund Hightower.
As an Alpha, Ormund embodied nearly everything society expected from someone of his designation. Dignified, composed, and respected by everyone around him. His voice was gentle, his appearance was always immaculate, and he never once raised his voice. Anyone meeting him for the first time would undoubtedly see him as a wise man who was almost flawless.
Yet living with him taught Daeron that not every wound came from shouting.
Some were born from smiles and words that sounded full of concern... or from rules always wrapped in the excuse that they were for his own good.
Quite unlike his uncle was Gwayne, his mother's younger brother.
That uncle was far more easygoing. He was never one for long lectures, nor did he particularly care whether Daeron sat with perfect posture or forgot to say grace before a meal. As far as Gwayne was concerned, as long as Daeron came home safely and no one had hurt him, that was more than enough.
Unfortunately, Gwayne was rarely home because of his work, so the warmth he brought only appeared from time to time before disappearing again.
As a result, most of Daeron's childhood was still spent under Ormund's care.
He was taught how to speak properly, how to smile at the right moment, how to walk, sit, dress, and even how to choose his friends. There were never any harsh words, and never a raised hand. Instead, whenever Daeron did something that failed to meet expectations, Ormund would simply look at him with a faint smile and tell him that he knew Daeron could become a better child.
The same words were repeated over and over until Daeron began to wonder...
If that was true...
Had he simply never been good enough?
It was difficult for him to hate Ormund. The man had given him a home, the finest education, and a comfortable life. Yet as he grew older, it became increasingly clear that every decision he made no longer seemed to belong to him.
His mother was not much different.
As an Omega, Alicent was graceful, beautiful, and always appeared perfect in everyone else's eyes, even in Daeron's. Her smile was comforting, her voice gentle, and she knew exactly how to make anyone believe that everything she did was born from a mother's love.
And yet, just like a bridge with two sides, her love was no different.
Daeron had never doubted that his mother loved him.
He had only begun to question whether that love was truly meant for him... or for the version of Daeron she wanted him to become.
Whenever he complained about life at the Hightower residence, his mother's answer was always the same.
"Your uncle is doing all of this for your own good." Or, "One day, you'll understand."
He had heard those words so many times that they had slowly lost all meaning.
What confused Daeron the most was not the endless rules, but his own identity.
House Hightower taught him about honor, purity, and how one's family name should be protected above all else.
Yet the blood running through his veins was Targaryen blood.
A family long known for marrying within their own bloodline to preserve the purity of their lineage. What House Hightower considered a sin had always been part of his own family's history.
Daeron no longer knew where he belonged.
He had been raised as a Hightower, yet born a Targaryen.
The harder he tried to understand both worlds, the more they seemed to stand in complete opposition, while he himself remained trapped somewhere between them.
He had never truly become a Hightower.
Yet he had never been given the chance to become a Targaryen, either.
Daeron endured it all for years.
He kept convincing himself that perhaps this was simply normal. That every rule, every decision made on his behalf, every piece of advice... was all for his own good.
That was what Ormund always said.
Until eventually, Daeron grew tired.
Tired of always having to be the good child. Tired because every time he tried to express how he truly felt, the conversation always ended with an explanation of why he was wrong. As though his feelings were merely a sign of immature judgment, and one day he would thank them for all of this.
He had tried talking to his mother about it again.
But the result was no different.
Alicent merely took his hand gently, smiled as she always did, and told him that Ormund loved him more than anyone else. That Daeron was simply at an age where it was difficult to understand the sacrifices adults made.
Nothing changed.
His father?
Daeron did not even want to place his hopes in that man. As long as he could remember, Viserys had been more of a shadow than a father. His body was present, but his mind always seemed to be somewhere else.
Aemond?
No.
His brother would probably listen until the very end, then tell him that Ormund was simply trying to discipline him. That life did not always go the way people wanted.
No.
Aemond would never understand.
Then... Helaena.
His sister had once told him that her door would always be open if Daeron ever needed a place to clear his mind.
Unfortunately, Helaena still lived with their mother.
And that meant running into their grandfather, Otto Hightower.
The old man did not live there permanently, but he visited often enough. Just thinking about the possibility of seeing his grandfather was enough to make Daeron abandon the idea.
No.
That house was not a safe place either.
It was then that Daeron realized something painfully sad. He did not have a single friend outside his family.
His world had never stretched beyond the Hightowers. He grew up alongside Ormund's children, his Hightower cousins, and the people who had been carefully chosen to surround him.
From time to time, he did visit King's Landing for celebrations, banquets, or family gatherings.
But those visits were never long enough for him to get to know the world beyond them. He would talk with his siblings, occasionally play with his half-sister's children, and then return home with the Hightowers.
That was all..His world really was that small.
Daeron tried naming every person he could possibly turn to.
No one.
No one.
No one.
Oh!Righ!
Aegon.
Daeron's breath caught for a moment.
It had been four years since his eldest brother had been cast out of House Targaryen because of that disgraceful pregnancy. Four years as well since Aegon had simply vanished from their lives.
No one ever spoke of him again.
As though the family's eldest son had never existed.
Daeron had no idea where Aegon was living now. He did not know whether his brother was still in King's Landing or had left the city long ago. He did not even know if Aegon... was doing alright.
But Daeron had no other choice.
He could only hope....that Aegon was still willing to think of him as his little brother.
------
Daeron had already lost count of how many times he had looked over his shoulder since leaving home.
What he did know was that his steps had brought him to another corner of King's Landing—a part of the city he had never truly visited as a child. The buildings looked old, their walls covered in peeling paint, and the narrow streets were lined with small shops that did not even have proper signs.
To most people, this might have been nothing more than an ordinary part of the city. But to Daeron, who had grown up in luxury, the place felt completely unfamiliar.
That was exactly why he had chosen it.
It was unlikely that anyone from his family would bother looking for him in a place like this.
Or at least, that was what he hoped.
His silver hair was gone now.
The faint reflection in a shop window still felt unfamiliar as Daeron caught sight of himself. The reddish-brown color did not completely erase the unmistakable features of a Targaryen, but it was enough to keep him from being recognized at a glance.
The tiny salon he had visited a few hours earlier had been so secluded that its owner had not recognized the boy who had walked in with the unmistakable silver hair of a Targaryen in broad daylight. Daeron considered that a stroke of luck.
Walking beside him was a Border Collie, her black-and-white coat marked with faint brown patches on her legs. Every now and then she stopped to sniff the pavement before quietly catching up to her owner without needing to be called.
Tessarion.
Daeron had considered leaving her behind.
Bringing a dog would only make running away more troublesome. Yet every time he imagined Tessarion waiting for him to come home, wagging her tail excitedly to greet him, he abandoned the thought.
If Daeron had to lose his home...
At the very least, he did not want to lose the only friend who had truly stayed by his side all these years.
He gently patted Tessarion's head before letting out another long sigh.
Now what?
Finding Aegon sounded much easier than actually doing it.
Daeron did not even know where to begin. Maybe... social media? Instagram?
Impossible.
He did not even have an Instagram account. Ormund had always said that social media was a waste of time and opened far too many doors for strangers to pry into one's private life. Daeron had never argued with him.
Now he regretted it.
If only he had secretly made an account back then...
Maybe finding Aegon would not be this difficult.
His hand slowly slipped into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.
He still had Aegon's number.
But it had been saved years ago. It was the number Aegon had used before he was cast out. There was a good chance he was no longer using it.
Aegon might have deliberately cut off all contact with their family after what had happened. That was entirely possible.
Daeron stared at the screen for a long moment before quietly taking a breath.
There was no other choice.
With a hint of hesitation, he pressed the call button and lifted the phone to his ear.
Beep...
The ringing tone echoed through the phone.
Daeron let out a quiet breath.
Maybe he had been right. Maybe the number was no longer in use. Or perhaps Aegon was deliberately ignoring a call from a number still connected to his family.
It was alright.
At least he had tried.
His thumb was already beginning to move, ready to end the call.
Click.
"Hello?"
Daeron froze.
That voice...
"...Hello, Daeron?"
His eyes widened instantly.
"...Hello? Are you there?"
His heart began to pound even faster.
"...Hey? You're not joking, are you? Daeron?"
Daeron could only stand there, completely motionless.
That was... It was really Aegon's voice.
Not only was the number still active.
His brother... Had kept his number all this time.
Daeron parted his lips, intending to answer, but not a single word came out. Instead, a quiet sob escaped his throat first.
"...Daeron?" Aegon's voice on the other end sounded confused.
That was the last thing holding him together.
Daeron broke down.
His shoulders shook violently as both hands clutched his phone tightly. The tears he had swallowed for years finally spilled over without restraint. He no longer cared about the occasional strangers glancing his way.
All he could do was cry.
Loudly. Uncontrollably.
At his feet, Tessarion, who had been walking quietly until then, immediately became restless. She circled around him several times, nudged his knee with her nose, then stood up with her front paws against his leg as if trying to make sure he was alright.
"Daeron...?" Aegon called again.
He wanted to answer...
But all that came out were louder sobs.
"...Hey, wait a second." Aegon sounded slightly flustered. "Did I call the wrong person? This isn't Daeron?"
Daeron shook his head over and over, even though he knew Aegon could not see him.
Aegon spoke again, this time deliberately teasing him.
"You're lying, aren't you? This number must belong to someone else who's also named Daeron. Last I checked, none of my little brothers were this much of a crybaby..."
Normally, a tease like that would have been enough to make Daeron grumble in annoyance.
This time, however, he cried even harder.
Silence filled the line for several seconds.
"...Daeron." Aegon's tone changed. "Hey... listen to me."
There was still no answer except broken sobs.
"Daeron... what happened?" The crying did not stop.
"Daeron..." Aegon's voice was filled with genuine worry now. "Who hurt you?"
"...I missed you," Daeron answered through uncontrollable sobs.
Daeron heard a quiet exhale from the other end of the line.
"Okay... alright." Aegon's voice was much calmer than before, though the tension was still there. "Take a deep breath first. Slowly. Then tell me everything."
Daeron nodded before realizing Aegon could not see him. He hurriedly wiped the tears from his face, took several shaky breaths, and forced himself to speak.
"...I ran away."
The words sounded genuinely pathetic.
"I couldn't stay there anymore. I just left without telling anyone. I don't even know where I'm supposed to go. I only brought a few clothes, I don't have much money, Tessarion came with me, and... and I'm scared they're looking for me right now. I deliberately came somewhere Mother would never think of looking. I even dyed my hair so I wouldn't be recognized. I really don't know what to do anymore. I don't even have any friends. I didn't know who else to call except you. I even thought this number probably wasn't active anymore. What if you'd changed it? What if you didn't want anything to do with our family anymore? With me?? I... I really don't know where else to go-"
"Okay-hey. Alright, alright." Aegon cut him off, his tone still relaxed. "I get it. Haha."
Daeron immediately stopped talking.
"Though I have to admit..." A quiet laugh came from the other end of the line. "You might have a talent for becoming a rapper. You managed to complain about that many things in a single breath."
Daeron's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"So, the short version is, you ran away from home, you have nowhere to go, your money is limited, and you're panicking."
"...Yeah."
"Okay, haha. I got it."
Before Aegon could continue, the voice of a small child suddenly echoed faintly in the background.
"Papa..."
Daeron frowned slightly.
"I need to pee."
"Yeah." Aegon's voice moved farther away from the phone. "One second."
A few moments later, he spoke again.
"Daeron, wait a minute, okay? Don't hang up. I'm just taking this annoying little gremlin to the bathroom."
"I'm not annoying..." the child's voice protested.
"Oh yeah, you're very, very annoying. Come here."
"Uh... I won't hang up," Daeron replied.
"Good."
Daeron waited patiently. Every now and then he glanced down at Tessarion, who was sitting quietly beside him, while faint voices drifted through the phone before everything fell silent again.
Not long after, Aegon's voice returned. "Daeron?"
"Yeah."
"Send me your location."
Daeron did so without asking any questions. A few seconds after he sent it, Aegon spoke again.
"...You're not that far away."
Sure enough, an address soon appeared on his screen, followed by the apartment unit number he needed.
"I can't come pick you up. Sorry." Aegon sounded genuinely apologetic. "This kid's been really fussy since he woke up."
"It's okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
If anything, Daeron felt even guiltier for disturbing his brother's time with his child.
"Then just come here. You still have some money, right? Take a taxi. Just tell the receptionist the unit number."
"...Thank you."
The words came out so quietly they were almost drowned out by the traffic around him.
Aegon simply chuckled.
"Be careful on your way."
------
About thirty minutes later, Daeron stood in front of an apartment door with Tessarion beside his feet.
The apartment building had been somewhat difficult for the taxi driver to find, even more hidden away than the neighborhood where he had called Aegon earlier. Some of the walls were faded, and he noticed that the paint on several doors had already begun to peel. It was hard to imagine his notoriously extravagant brother living in a place like this.
Daeron glanced once more at the unit number displayed on his phone.
It matched.
So he was in the right place.
His hand slowly lifted, but stopped just a few centimeters before reaching the door.
What if Aegon had changed his mind?
What if his presence would only become a burden?
What if...
Daeron shook his head.
No.
He had already come this far.
With a hesitant breath, he knocked three times.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound of small footsteps immediately came from inside.
Click.
The door opened.
A little boy who looked to be around four years old stood before him. His jet-black hair cont
rasted with a pair of large violet eyes sparkling with curiosity. The child looked up at Daeron for a few seconds, studying his face carefully.
Then, without the slightest hint of shyness, a wide smile spread across his little face.
"Hello!" he greeted enthusiastically.
Before Daeron had the chance to respond, the little boy had already run over and wrapped his arms tightly around Daeron's leg.
"...Uh... hi?"
From inside the apartment, Aegon's voice was finally heard "Maelor, don't bother your uncle."
"I don't want to!"
Instead of letting go, the little boy hugged Daeron's leg even tighter, nearly making him lose his balance.
Daeron could only stand there stiffly.
Fortunately, Tessarion reacted first. She walked over and gently nudged Maelor with her nose, as if asking the boy to give Daeron a little space.
"Wahhh, a dog!!" Maelor giggled as he patted Tessarion's head several times.
"Hello, little doggy!!"
Only then did Daeron lift his head.
Beyond the short hallway leading to the living room, Aegon was standing there, looking at him.
Not much had changed.
His blond hair was still as messy as Daeron remembered, though it was cut shorter now. His face looked a little rounder than it had four years ago, but the faint smile at the corner of his lips was still the same.
The two of them simply looked at each other without saying a word.
Daeron swallowed.
What if Aegon regretted giving him this address?
"Haha." Aegon chuckled.
"What?"
"I was a little surprised."
Daeron frowned in confusion.
"Out of all the hair colors in the world..." Aegon casually pointed at his younger brother's head. "...you picked the exact same color as Mother's."
Daeron instinctively touched his reddish-brown hair.
"For a second, I thought Mother had suddenly turned into a boy."
Aegon burst into laughter the moment he saw Daeron's face slowly turning red with embarrassment.
"That face of yours..." he muttered between laughs. "You're as red as a tomato."
"I... I..." Daeron had no idea how to explain himself. What was he even supposed to say? That it was simply the only hair color he could think of?
Aegon's laughter gradually died down. Without another word, he stepped closer and pulled Daeron into a hug.
"Welcome," Aegon said softly. "I've missed you too."
Daeron bit his lip hard, trying not to cry again. His arms slowly returned the embrace, as if reassuring himself that all of this was real.
They stayed like that for several moments until Maelor's voice broke the silence.
"Papa..." Both of them turned at the same time.
Maelor looked up at them innocently.
"The people in the hallway have been staring at you this whole time."
Only then did Daeron notice that several apartment residents were indeed walking past, occasionally glancing at them with curious expressions.
Aegon cleared his throat, then let go of the hug. "...Come inside."
"Okay."
Daeron stepped inside slowly. As soon as the apartment door closed, the atmosphere inside felt completely different from what he had imagined.
The apartment wasn't very large, but it was neat and tidy. A faint smell of food still lingered in the air, mixed with the strong scent of fabric softener. In one corner of the living room stood a bookshelf almost entirely filled with children's storybooks, while toys were scattered across the carpet as though they had only just been played with.
Daeron even spotted a small stuffed dragon lying beside the sofa.
"Come with me." Aegon's voice made him look up again. The omega casually walked through the living room, occasionally stepping around the building blocks scattered across the floor.
"Good thing I was smart back then."
Daeron raised an eyebrow.
Aegon looked back at him and winked with a mischievous grin.
"Smart enough to rent a three-bedroom apartment."
After saying that, he laughed to himself. "If I'd only rented a two-bedroom, I'd be struggling to find somewhere for you to sleep. I mean, you could sleep with Maelor... but that's a toddler bed."
Aegon opened a door at the end of the hallway.
"This is the guest room. From now on, it's yours."
The room was simple. A medium-sized bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a window overlooking the apartment building across the street.
Aegon opened the wardrobe and slid several hangers aside to make more space.
"Just put your things here."
Daeron slowly set his backpack on the floor. Aegon glanced at him briefly before smiling faintly.
"By the way..." He gently patted Daeron's shoulder.
"I'm proud of you."
Daeron looked at him in confusion.
"You've grown so much. Seriously, how tall are you now? Are you taller than Aemond?"
"Maybe?"
Aegon tilted his head, looking his younger brother up and down.
"So..." His smile turned slightly mischievous.
"An Alpha?"
Daeron shook his head.
"Still hasn't presented?"
Daeron nodded.
"Wait, you're sixteen now, right?"
"Yeah."
"Oh..." Aegon nodded casually, as if it wasn't something worth worrying about. His hands remained busy opening a few empty drawers for Daeron.
"Not everyone is the same," he said lightly. "Some present early, some present late."
Daeron watched his brother speak without even the slightest hint of being preachy.
"I was one of the early ones."
Daeron looked at him.
"I presented when I was fifteen."
He gave a small nod.
"Jace was even earlier. He presented at thirteen."
"Jace?"
Aegon paused for a moment and looked at Daeron with mild surprise.
"You don't know who Jace is?"
Daeron honestly shook his head.
"Seriously? There's no way you don't know him..."
He thought for a few more seconds, but still couldn't figure out who his brother meant.
"...Who?"
Aegon blinked, then let out a small laugh as he rubbed his forehead.
"Jacaerys."
"Oh..." Daeron finally nodded in understanding.
"Jacaerys Velaryon?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't know people called him Jace."
"Everyone around him does."
Daeron simply nodded again.
He knew his nephew, but they had never met often enough for him to know his nickname.
After putting away his belongings, Daeron followed Aegon back to the dining room. Dinner was very relaxed. Maelor chatted nonstop while eating, forcing Aegon to remind him several times to finish chewing before speaking.
As soon as dinner was over, the little boy jumped down from his chair and grabbed Daeron's hand.
"Come on, come on!! Let's play!!"
As they entered the living room, Daeron realized Tessarion wasn't alone. Near the rug, a large Golden Retriever was lying comfortably on the floor, lazily wagging his tail.
"...Sunfyre?"
The dog immediately lifted his head the moment he heard his name.
Aegon, who was carrying a glass out of the kitchen, let out a small laugh.
"So you still remember him."
"How could I forget?"
Daeron crouched down to pet Sunfyre while Tessarion calmly sat beside him.
Maelor then opened his toy box and enthusiastically introduced everything inside. There was a little dragon named Cloud, a green dinosaur named Moss, and several potato plushies that, for some reason, were all named Sir Potato.
"I named them myself!" he said proudly. "But Daddy helped me think of some of the names!"
Daeron, who had been smiling, immediately turned toward Aegon.
"Daddy?"
Aegon raised an eyebrow.
"So... you named all of those potato plushies Sir Potato?" Daeron asked spontaneously.
Aegon snorted softly as he leaned back against the sofa.
"No."
Daeron frowned. "But Maelor said Daddy?"
"He's not talking about me."
"Then who is he talking about?"
"Not me."
"Then... are you—"
Aegon cut him off before he could finish.
"I'm not married," he said with an annoyed huff.
Maelor was still busy arranging his toys across the carpet when Aegon cleared his throat.
"Maelor."
"Yeah?"
"Don't you still have a few more dragons in your room?"
Maelor's eyes immediately lit up. "Oh yeah!"
"Then go get them. You can introduce all of them to Uncle Daeron too."
"Okay!"
The little boy immediately ran down the hallway without the slightest suspicion. As soon as his footsteps disappeared, Aegon finally turned back to Daeron.
"The person Maelor calls 'Daddy' is the man who got me pregnant. Maelor's father. We're still together, so Maelor calls him Daddy, while he calls me Papa."
Daeron blinked several times, trying to process the explanation.
"Then..." he asked innocently, "...you were kicked out because you ran away with him? Not because they found out you were pregnant?"
Aegon immediately pulled a pout.
"No."
"I was kicked out because they found out I was pregnant." He let out a quiet huff. "More specifically, because I refused to abort Maelor."
Daeron fell silent.
"I left after that, and he found me before Maelor was born. Then we decided to raise this kid together. He spends a lot of time here."
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
Daeron still felt like part of the story was missing.
"So... you two decided not to get married?"
"He wants to. I don't."
"He proposed to you?"
Aegon nodded casually. "Several times."
"And you turned him down every time?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Aegon chuckled softly before shrugging.
"It would be troublesome."
Daeron looked even more confused.
"Troublesome how?"
"Well... his mother, his stepfather... uh, his grandfather? You'll understand once you meet him."
Daeron was about to ask another question when the sound of small footsteps came from the hallway.
"Papa!"
Maelor appeared, dragging a large basket overflowing with toys, several stuffed animals nearly spilling onto the floor.
"I brought some!"
Aegon stared at the basket for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, trying not to laugh.
"...This kid's definition of 'some' is always interesting."
----
That night, after finishing his shower, Daeron had just stepped out of his room when Maelor suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Uncle! Come on!"
Before he could even ask why, he was already being dragged into the living room. Maelor quickly grabbed several books from the small bookshelf beside the sofa and piled them onto the carpet.
"This one's my favorite. Then this one's about dragons! This one's about dragons too! Oh! This one too! Dragons, and this one's different—it's about a baby dragon!"
Daeron picked up the books one by one. The covers were all different, but every single one of them featured dragons.
"...Why are they all about dragons?"
Maelor shrugged as if the answer was obvious.
"Because Daddy says dragons are cute."
Daeron fell silent for a few seconds.
"...Cute?"
"Yeah." The little boy nodded enthusiastically. "Daddy says all dragons are cute."
Daeron had no idea how to respond.
...Alright. Maelor's father's taste was certainly unique.
A little while later, Aegon walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate of freshly baked cookies. He placed it on the coffee table before taking one for himself.
"Help yourselves. And Maelor, don't eat all of them."
"What?! Why??" the little boy protested.
"Save some for your Daddy."
"Uhh... okay."
Maelor obediently nodded, even though he had already grabbed three cookies.
They went back to looking through the books until, a few minutes later, the apartment door opened.
"Finally done..." A man's voice was heard together with the sound of footsteps entering the apartment.
Daeron instinctively looked up.
A tall man with wavy black hair walked inside while taking off the suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired, but the moment he saw Aegon, his expression immediately softened.
"I'm home."
Aegon walked straight over to him and kissed him on the lips right in front of Daeron, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
"DADDY!" Maelor immediately ran over and hugged the man's leg.
The man chuckled softly, bent down, and lifted Maelor into his arms. "Hello, little troublemaker. How was your day?"
"AMAZING!"
Daeron watched the scene with a smile on his face.
They really looked like a genuinely happy family, so perfect that they could have stepped straight out of one of the novels he used to read.
But when the man lifted his head again, Daeron finally got a clear look at his face.
Daeron's purple eyes slowly widened.
His hand rose to point at the man.
"...J-Jacaerys?"
The man immediately turned toward him.
"Wait... Daeron? What happened to your hair—"
"AEGON, YOU SLEPT WITH JACAERYS?!"
Ignoring Jacaerys completely, Daeron shouted at Aegon.
Standing beside them, Aegon immediately covered Maelor's ears with both hands.
"Daeron, watch your language."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'WATCH MY LANGUAGE'?!" Daeron nearly shouted again.
"THAT'S JACAERYS, AEGON!! DON'T TELL ME HE'S MAELOR'S BIOLOGICAL FATHER?"
"Yeah."
"YEAH?!"
"Yeah."
"YOU SLEPT WITH OUR NEPHEW, AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS 'YEAH'?!"
Aegon could no longer hold back his laughter and burst out laughing.
"Well, you can't really blame me when a handsome Alpha decides to pursue me."
Meanwhile, Jacaerys could only exchange glances with Maelor in his arms as they both stared at Daeron, who appeared to be having the biggest existential crisis of his life.