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The Mark of the Dragon [Aegon Targaryen x Reader]

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Summary: You grew up on the streets of Fleabottom for the majority of your life being orphaned at the young age of ten. Apart from your striking hair color, the only thing you inherited from your family was a birthmark on the back of your left shoulder blade. On the week of festivities to celebrate the King’s eldest, Aegon the Second, you end up encountering him. You help him forget about his duties of being Prince and Heir to the Iron Throne until one fateful night…. [AU based where Aegon was crowned heir instead of Rhaenyra].

Warnings in this chapter: Abduction; very, very brief mention of necrophilia; light groping.

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Chapter II

Your face was pale, shivers erupting on your skin as you bolted upright in bed, your breath coming in heavy pants. You ran a hand through your silver hair while a slight frown tugged at your lips. It was that same dream.

The same dream plaguing your mind for many years caused you to wake well before the birds. You breathed to calm your beating heart before shaking your head.

“It is just a dream,” You mumbled, pulling back your blanket.

You let out another shaky breath, trying to push the dream to the dark corners of your mind while you grabbed your cloak once you were ready and headed out for another day of pickpocketing. The streets seemed even more crowded than they had been all week. Today must have been the big celebration for the eldest’s name day.

Your mind kept wandering back to that night with Aegon, a temptation in human form brought to you by the Gods, it seems. You knew rejecting him was the right decision in your heart, but your mind kept telling you what if. What if you had taken up his offer to bed him? Your mind was a cruel mistress at times, plaguing you with false hope of something that will never be.

Your eyes wandered around, trying to sense the most vulnerable to steal from. Often, it was easier to take from the wealthy through the art of seduction with men, especially being very susceptible; however, it was harder being in broad daylight and with bodies all around. You narrowed your gaze on a skinnier man with scraggly dark hair, his clothing telling you he was from the lower end of Fleabottom. Certainly not the kind of man you would take from, yet he seemed simple enough to fall for your charm.

“Excuse me, sir,” You called softly, clutching your cloak tighter as you approached him.

The man turned to look at you, a snarl coming onto his features. His face was similar to a rat’s, matching with dark beady eyes- a starved rat is more what he looked like. “Piss off,” He snapped, waving his hand at you.

“Please help me.” You pressed your chest against his to corner him up against the wall, flashing a look of pity. “I’m lost and need help finding Fortune’s Smile Inn.”

The man seemed frozen in place, his eyes wandering over your body before connecting with your violet-swirled eyes. His thin hands were shaky as he placed them on your waist, his mouth agape. Your brows knit in confusion by his actions, and you tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened, his strength surprising for a man of his size.

“You look like ‘im, you know,” He whispered, his voice hoarse.

“W-what?” Your voice quivered from the fear that was coursing through your veins as the man’s demeanor changed.

His lips quirked up into a smirk, his arms going fully around you, capturing you into an iron grasp. He chuckled when you tried to leave, hitting his chest. “You will do nicely, sweetling.” He hummed, reaching up, twirling a strand of your silver-like hair.

His eyes darted around as he tried to tug you down the alleyway, only to let out a shriek when you stomped down on his foot. “You fuckin’ cunt!” You heard him yelling, but his shouts became distant as your feet carried you down the alleyway that seemed to stretch for miles.

You glanced behind you to see if the man was chasing after you before you collided with someone, your eyes meeting that of a round man’s. His breathing was heavy as you clutched tight onto his vest.

“H-help me,” You whimpered out.

The man stumbled upon his words, his eyes focused on the valley of your breasts. “Bart!”

You glanced over, hearing the familiar voice, your eyes widening in fear at the rat-looking man. “Bart! Grab her!” He shouted.

Your body shook as you looked back up at the man called Bart. He offered you a smile that showed no more than ten yellowed teeth. “I betta’ listen to the boss man. We don’t want a pretty thing like you escaping now.”

“P-please.” You felt the tears springing in your eyes while the man reached for the club hanging on his belt.

“You won’t feel a thing,” Bart assured you before he raised the club above his head.

Vynce winced a bit, trying to catch his breath when he came to a stop in front of his partner, who was holding onto your unconscious body. He pulled down the shoulder of your dress, clicking his tongue at the sight of the birthmark.

“We need to be careful with this one.”

“Got it, boss.” Bart grunted, lifting your body over his shoulder and tossing you onto the floor of the covered wagon.

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As you came to, a small groan passed your lips, your eyes fluttering open. You looked around, taking in your surroundings. Many girls of various ages huddled together, tears glistening in their eyes.

“Where am I?” You grumbled, trying to sit up, but winced at the throbbing pain in your head.

“The poachers,” An older woman spoke up. “They’re taking us to an auction house where they will sell us to men who will do as they please before throwing us back into the streets of Fleabottom.”

“Or slit our throats and continue to fuck our corpse once we are dead like what they did to Anyette,” A younger girl piped up, causing a few of the others to wail out.

Your eyes flickered across the faces of each girl. Some were plumper, and some had as many wrinkles as their age. It was clear a few of them also had a run-in with the poachers previously. You braced yourself when the wagon suddenly stopped, a weight jumping down after a moment.

“Do not fight them,” The same elder whispered to you as the wagon curtain opened.

Your eyes connected with the rat man’s from earlier, who offered you a wide, sinister smirk. “Time to clean up, lovelies. We don’t want you lookin’ like pigs, now do we?”

The man- Vynce- began to pull each of you out individually while Bart peeled the dresses off each shaking girl’s body. The grubby man’s grip was tight around your waist, a hearty laugh passing his lips.

“Remember your manners, Bart,” Vynce said, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Vynny,” Bart whined as though he was a child who had their favorite toy taken away from them. “There ain’t nothing wrong with touching.” He licked his lips hungrily while he ripped the bodice of your dress, his eyes examining your breasts as your clothing fell to the floor.

You fought against Bart when he reached down, squeezing your left breast firmly. “Nothin’ wrong with that at all,” He whispered, beginning to lean down but letting out a howl when Vynce hit him upside the head.

“Do not spoil the wares,” Vynce warned, pushing Bart away and causing you to stumble. “Especially this one. She will go for a pretty gold piece. Now, you,” He snapped, turning his attention to you. “Finish cleaning up,” He instructed, pushing you to the wash basin.

You gripped onto the bowl, your reflection staring back at you. The violet tinges seemed dull like your fire was becoming snuffed out. Whatever predicament you find yourself in, no matter how difficult the situation might be, always remember to keep your fire blazing bright. No one has the right to put it out. Your father’s words rang out in your mind; he would always say them to you before he left you to provide for the both of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a deep breath. You tried to let your father’s words calm you even in this dark time, although it did little to help. Your hands were shaky as you picked up the dirtied cloth and dipped it into the bowl of ice-cold water. You glanced up at the pair of men- two predators watching over their prey.

“How many maidens did you count?” Vynce questioned Bart with furrowed brows.

“At least three, including ‘er,” Bart responded, nodding towards you. “Do you reckon he’s comin’?”

“He’s been comin’ for the last three moons. I am sure tonight would be no different.”

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You hugged your knees to your chest; the other two girls huddled together a ways away from you in an embrace. Vynce and Bart had left the three of you alone while leading the other captives onto the stage. The cheers of drunken men could be heard, muffled, from where you were sitting.

“D-do you believe they are going to set us free?” The younger girl asked through her sniffles.

“Do not be so daft, Ellya,” The older girl responded, her cheeks containing dried-up tears. “Perhaps they wanted us for themselves and their twisted desires.”

Your eyes lingered on the pair, a slight frown tugging at your lips. It seemed the younger one had not even hit her tenth name day. Both were too young to be at the mercy of the poachers. Your head snapped over when the door suddenly opened.

“We know how much you like them maidens, My Prince,” Vynce explained. “The kingsguard had been crackin’ down real hard as of late, but we were still able to get three of them for your picking.”

Your eyes connected with the familiar Prince’s violet ones, his brows furrowed while he looked over your state. Your body was shivering, and you could not tell if it was from how bare you were or the chills that Aegon had given you.

“My rose,” Aegon breathed out.

“What?” Vynce’s brows knit in confusion before he shook his head. “Three thousand gold dragons for that one or eight thousand for all three,” He explained.

Aegon snorted. “That is one steep price. Last time, it was only fifteen hundred for one.”

“As I mentioned, the maidens are harder to come by as of late,” Vynce stumbled upon his words, intimidated by the Prince.

“And this one is the prettiest we’ve seen in a long time.”

You yelped when Bart yanked you up by your hair, gasping as he roughly pushed you up against the brick wall, pinning you there with his round belly.

“Why is she three thousand?” Aegon asked with a cocked brow. “Does she have a golden cunt?”

Vynce clicked his tongue. “I am sure you know of her kind. We know you are not an imbecile, My Prince.”

“Not as much of an imbecile as you lot,” Aegon mumbled before he let out a sigh. “I only brought fifteen hundred with me because that is how much the other girls were.”

“If he does not want to pay the gold, I will just take her maidenhood here and now.” Bart laughed as he forced your legs to spread apart, one of his hands squeezing your bum. “Then I will slit her pretty little throat.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as you felt his grimy hand sneak between your legs. “Wait!” You blew out a breath at the sound of Aegon’s voice and opened your eyes. You felt the tears stinging, but you refused to cry.

“Fifteen hundred gold dragons. It’s all I have on me, but I will give you the rest on the morrow,” Aegon said quickly offering Vynce the velvet pouch jingling with coins. “You know I am good about keeping my word.”

Vynce eyed the coin purse hungrily as he took it in his hands. He opened the purse, licking his lips at the sight of the gold. “Give ‘er to him,” He told Bart.

Bart scowled but did as he was told, roughly pushing you over to Aegon stumbling into his arms. Your gaze met his, feeling a few tears pool over your eyes. Aegon slowly took off his cloak, wrapping it around you and hugging you to his side.

“Let us get you someplace safe, my rose,” He whispered, leading you out.

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