THE 7TH MOON [Aemond Targaryen]

Nine - Ventures into Flea Bottom.

"My Prince."

"Hello."

A woman with a voice like velvet approached the pair, her hand found Aegon's shoulder in seconds and she caressed his skin through his tunic as if they were lovers from a past lifetime. Laenora couldn't help but hide a laugh beneath her hood, knowing exactly what this woman knew and wanted of her uncle. Word travelled fast, even to Dragonstone.

"It has been many a night since we last saw you, almost seven. Shall we be expecting you tonight?" She hummed in his ear

"I-uh... No, you will not."

"Embarrassed my prince?" Laenora mimicked the woman smugly as Aegon ushered her away, "Surely if you're going to venture into whore houses you mustn't be embarrassed by them."

"I'm embarrassed because you are here niece. You don't need to know of my habits."

"All of Westeros knows of your habits uncle, and your whores."

"Shut up." He grabbed her hand in an instant, interlacing their fingers together.

Before she knew it, the Velaryon found herself crossing the threshold of an ale house in the darkest corner of all of Kingslanding. Her hand was still encapsulated by her uncle's much to her dislike, but she didn't allow his action to bother her much, and instead kept her bewildered mind on the occurrences inside the tavern.

It was filled to the brim with drunkards, all of which were familiar to her Prince uncle, men rested in dark corners, receiving felatio from ladies of the night who had travelled the short walk from the closest pleasure house to be of service. On the far side of the room a small group of men and women sat, eating raw meat and playing cards, a small few stood by the door, fighting one another bare knuckle until their maws were bloodied. Aegon quickly swept Laenora beneath his arm, out of harms way, and ushered her fervently in the direction of the bar.

The future usurper nodded to the barkeep as they brushed by and the woman quickly got to work pouring the pair both a tankard of their cheapest beer. Aegon walked his niece to a barrel on the farthest side of the room and pulled up a stool for them both. Laenora sat haphazardly, trying with everything in her to ignore the sights surrounding her, the crude stench, and the grim stickiness atop of their makeshift table.

"There's no need for that." The Prince dropped his hood, and only a moment later he too pushed Laenora's to her shoulders.

"Aegon!"

"No one will say anything of us down here."

With all but a moments notice, the stout barkeep had shuffled over, placing their drinks before them, spilling the dark liquid upon the already stained surface. The betrothed woman smiled curtly.

"Princess." The barkeep whispered, nodding her head

"Aegon you said-"

"Do not worry, she can keep a secret." He chuckled, stirring his beer with his finger before sucking some off the end. "Want some?"

"I have my own." She grimaced, knowing exactly where his fingers had been. There weren't many who did not.

"Thought you may want to try it first but I understand. You haven't seen me in years."

"No I haven't." She agreed

"Have you missed your uncle?"

"I haven't seen you since we left for dragonstone six years ago. We weren't much close, there was little to miss."

"Well I beg to differ." He told her as a matter of a fact, "Your Aunt Laena's funeral? We had a wonderful time, you can't tell me you've forgotten that?"