AN: My take on the Daemon and Rhea have a son idea, using a combination of HOTD canon and F&B canon.
"He knows," Jessamyn whispered as the sun's rays flowed through the windows of the Moon Tower.
"Oh?" Jeyne smiled as she pressed a kiss to her lover's shoulder. Then to her neck. Her sweet Jessamyn smelled of lilacs and lemon cakes and sex. "Tell me. What does he know?"
"This is no jape, Jeyne." She pushed her away, a soft hand on her shoulder, and Jeyne Arryn sighed as she sat up in her featherbed. Their bed clothes were all atangle, the blanket a rumpled pile pushed to the corner, half draped over the side of the mattress. "He knows that we are more than just the dear companions that everyone makes us out to be."
There was true worry on her pretty face, Jeyne could see. A hint of fear as well. It took away from the way her blue eyes shined when she laughed, cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, the shape of her lips when Jeyne had her moaning her name. She didn't like that. Her lady love should have nothing to frown at, only laughs and smiles and content curves.
"Even if Egg knows, what of it?" Jeyne Arryn had known Ser Aegon Royce since the day he had been born, back when his grandfather Yorbert had served as her regent and Lord Protector of the Vale. She had been but a girl of three then, too young to remember anything, but over the years she had come to know him very well and was privileged enough to call him a true friend. The son from a loveless marriage between a restless Targaryen prince and the immoveable Lady of Runestone, the heir to Runestone was one of her most leal supporters.
"He could use such information as a threat, to force you to do something that he wishes," Jessamyn said, and Jeyne giggled at the thought of Egg using such underhanded means. "This is serious, Jeyne! He might try to take your hand in marriage by force, wresting control of the Eyrie and the Vale from you after the handfasting and celebrations are done. The Maiden of the Vale is still the most eligible lady in the Seven Kingdoms."
"I am hardly a maiden," Jeyne said, smiling down at her lover's naked body. She chuckled when Jessamyn covered her breasts with an arm, a seriousness to her brow. "You need not worry about Egg. He's a true knight who keeps his oaths and his faith close to his heart. Not the sort of man to use such underhanded tactics to gain my hand." But he could make a fine lord husband if I truly have the right of him.
She rose from her bed, picking up her smallclothes, the matter at an end. Jessamyn watched as she dressed, frowning all the while. Talk of politics often had her Lady of Redfort frowning. Court politics, Vale of Arryn politics, and even King's Landing politics, they all worried her. Jeyne didn't understand why.
"Come now," she said, wiggling her fingers at her lover. "Help me dress like a proper lady. I can't leave my esteemed guest waiting too long."
Jessamyn took hold of her hands, squeezing softly. "I still say to be wary of him. There's something about him that I mislike."
That she had from others as well. Her castellan, her maester, the knights of her court, even the lesser Royce cousins of Lady Rhea. They all spoke ill of Aegon Royce when he could not hear their words. Even her master-at-arms said that no man is as perfect a knight as Ser Aegon appears to be, so skilled at arms and soft of heart. That in his eyes, there was no such thing as a perfect knight. Mayhaps he has the truth of it, Jeyne thought, but the rest are schemers and plotters all. It was jealousy in truth, it had to be. She had learned early on to tell who amongst her lords were genuine and who were there for ambition alone. She knew that most of them would do almost anything for her hand in marriage, for if they married the Lady of the Vale, the power of the kingdom would be within their grasp. Their sons would rule after them. Some, like her cousin Arnold, had even tried to usurp her position as head of the family and Lady of the Eyrie. But of all the lords and knights of her court, Aegon had never once sought out her hand, nor had he leered at her body, nor conspired against her.
After she was dressed in her finest silks and jewels, hair wound into a single long braid, Jeyne kissed Jessamyn farewell, and sought out the Bronze Dragon. Down the many white marble steps of the Moon Tower, across the gallery, and through to the High Hall. Two knights of her household guard flanked either side of the wooden doors carved with falcons, sky-blue cloaks hanging from their shoulders. They informed her that Aegon was awaiting her within, and that the knights and men-at-arms he had traveled with were in the garden, keeping company with the marble statue of the long dead Alyssa Arryn.
"Make it so that we are not disturbed," she told them, and then stepped into the High Hall.
She found Ser Aegon Royce admiring the Arryn tapestries, gloved hands clasped behind him, and he turned with the closing of the doors. He was a tall youth of six-and-ten, handsome and muscled, with a head of brown hair and a pair of lilac eyes. His riding leathers were unadorned, save for the shield embroidered on his surcoat, the runic bronze arms of House Royce quartered with the red three headed dragon of House Targaryen, and from his shoulders hung a bronze sable cloak that looked soft as sin. The serving girls all blushed and giggled whenever Aegon thanked them, or gave them a smile, or acknowledged them at all. Jeyne didn't understand why.
"My Lady Arryn," he said, executing a comically low bow at the waist. His cloak fluttered behind him like a banner in the wind. He had a charming smile revealing pearly white teeth when he came up. "A sight to behold as always."
"You flatter me, good ser." Jeyne offered her hand. Aegon removed a leather glove, his calloused fingers gentle with her own, and his lips met the air above her knuckle, breath warming her skin.
"It is not flattery if it is the truth." He was taller than she was by a head, and he smelled of pine and steel. "Both the Mother and the Maiden have blessed you, if I may say."
"Indeed, they have," Jeyne said, and watched as Aegon replaced the leather glove on his hand. She took the opportunity to loop her arm around the crook of his, turning them both to the tapestries. It was of Artys Arryn, the first King of the Mountain and the Vale, and the founder of her house. He was fighting his great battle against the First Men for control of the Vale. "But I know that you've not come here to talk about the Seven Who Are One. Did you miss my company so dearly since my name day tourney a moon past that you've come to call upon me again?"
"I will not lie to you, Blue Jeyne, the thought had crossed my mind." Aegon rested his free hand on his swordbelt, right next to the Ironwood hilt of his dagger. He struck an imposing figure, even more so when he looked down to meet her gaze, eyes colored like lilacs seeming to glow with an emotion she could not place. "Alas, there is more to my coming here than simply my wanting to spend time in your company. There's to be a great tourney in King's Landing, organized by my uncle the king. I've heard it called the Heir's Tourney for it is to herald the coming of the next lord of these Seven Kingdoms."
"Is that so, Bronze Egg?" Jeyne chuckled at the arrogance of men. "Well, I assume you intend to compete in the tourney, winning yourself great glory of course."
"Of course," Aegon agreed, "as well as other things along the way. My coz William thinks he will triumph over me this time around, still saying that he slipped during your name day tourney. A good sword does not make a good knight, even one of Valyrian steel like William's Lamentation. Now… would it also be bold of me to ask for your favor once more? Fortune does favor the bold, dear Jeyne."
"Bold of you, to be sure." Jeyne observed the shape of Aegon's face, tracing her eyes across the shape of his brow, the length of his nose, the line of his jaw. How much of his father is in him? Prince Daemon Targaryen was said to be a handsome man, bearing the silver hair and purple eyes of the Valyrians of old. But he was also ambitious, ill-tempered, and slow to forgive an offense. Wild too. Wholly unlike his own son, who embodied what it was to be a knight of the Vale. As High As Honor were the Arryn words, and the Eyrie was as high as one could go. Mayhaps not wholly his father's son, but there is ambition in every man. Even those as loyal as Egg, and fortune does favor the bold. "Egg, what do you think of marriage?"
"Marriage?" he said, favoring her with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I've little experience with it, but I can say that it requires a whit of respect for one's partner to have any chance of survival. Not meaning to speak ill of my mother or father, but they hold no respect for one another, and most definitely no love."
"So, you would want a love match?"
"Ideally, but I am not so naive to delude myself with dreams." Aegon shook his head, gazing at the great battle Artys waged in the tapestries. "I'll marry a girl who will be a benefit to my house, of mine own or my mother's choosing. Someone who will give me a son or two, and mayhaps a daughter. Hopefully we'll come to love each other along the way. But I would never stray from her. Never abandon her. Not like my father."
For a moment, the image of the perfect knight fell away, and Jeyne saw what everyone claimed to lay beneath. There was a hatred in those lilac eyes. Unbridled rage. But it was gone the next. Replaced by the composure of a knight of the Vale. A hint of fire and blood beneath the bronze. Aegon turned to her, his lips a thin line. "I would treat her kindly, and with respect."
"Even if it would never be a love match like the songs?" she asked.
Aegon blinked, a curious grin tugging at his lips. "This isn't some prelude to a marriage proposal, right?" He chuckled at that, though it faded away as Jeyne continued to search his face. "You… you aren't serious, Jeyne?" He searched for the words, slipping from her grasp, pacing steps in front of the weirwood thrones.
"A marriage of aligning interests," Jeyne said, not wanting the uncomfortable silence that had arisen between them to stretch on any longer. "I need a man who will be my loyal consort and the father to my heirs. Someone who I can trust to keep my council and secrets and interests at heart. Someone honorable. I find that you… you are that likely candidate amongst my lords and knights. As mayhaps one of my few true friends."
"I…" Aegon looked about the room, eyes finding entrance. "What of Jessamyn?" he whispered, taking her hand in his own. "I would not displace her in your heart. That would be cruel."
Jeyne swallowed. "We… we would come to an arrangement." The look Aegon gave her was concerning, like he was looking at one of his wounded men-at-arms, or a problem that seemed to have no answer. "I cannot promise that I will love you like I do Jessamyn. But it would not be a loveless marriage. You would share my bed as long as needed to produce two sons, the elder for the Eyrie, and the younger for Runestone. It will be a political marriage that will secure my hold on the Vale completely, and one that will give you unrivaled influence in my court. I would even name you the Warden of the East and Lord Protector of the Vale-"
"Jeyne." Aegon had a sadness in his eyes. "I've known you since we were children, back when we played together as my grandfather watched over the Vale in your stead. Years of friendship and mutual respect, of treasured memories that I think fondly of even now. A friendship that was nothing but a friendship, not for any personal gain or the furthering of my family, but for the simple reason that I enjoy spending time with you. If you have a need of me, Jeyne, you needn't have offered bribes or incentives. You are my liege lady and dear friend. I would have come to your aid regardless."
"I'm sorry." Jeyne could feel tears welling in her eyes, sudden and unbridled. She felt the shame burn her cheeks red like apples. "I'm so sorry. I let the idle gossip of my court and mine own fears cloud my judgement. No insult was meant by my words, Egg, you must know. I only wished to… to put an end to all the schemes for my hand, for my lands and titles."
A pair of strong arms pulled her close, and Jeyne closed her eyes into Aegon's chest. His cloak was as soft as she knew it to be. The hilt of his sword and dagger made it less than comfortable, but she didn't much care. Being held like so remembered her of her father when he still lived. He was an honorable man, like Aegon. They had both grown up with stories of his deeds in the Vale.
When her tears dried, and the guilt didn't burn so hot within her, Jeyne stepped away. Aegon straightened up and cleared his throat, wiping his eyes. "A blessing and a curse," he muttered, sniffing. Then he turned to her. "I will accept your offer of marriage, my dear Blue Jeyne. For the love I have for you as a friend, and for the future of our houses and the Vale of Arryn as a whole. Though I do believe we should speak with Jessamyn before the wedding. I would not want to be the cause of a row between the two of you."
"Yes," she said, "that would be prudent." Her dear Jessamyn worried too much for Jeyne's liking. Once she got to know Aegon a little better, she would come to understand that the gossip and ill-words about him were ones that held no truth. Merely that of lesser men who could hope to match him. "But we can speak more on the matter another time. No doubt your mother would want a say in the dowry."
"She would indeed," Aegon agreed. "Mayhaps when I return from King's Landing, I can persuade her to not demand such a high price from you. A dragon or two earned at the tourney should suffice."
"I should think more than that. King Viserys is not a frugal man with his gold. Lord Lyman Beesbury is said to work wonders when it comes to the crown's treasuries."
"Right," Aegon chuckled. "I'll give the master of coin your good words when we meet. To soften the blow that my uncle's coffers will take when I win both the melee and the joust."
"So assured of your victory, are we?" Jeyne grinned as Aegon favored her with a quirked eyebrow and a warrior's pose, sable cloak thrown back and hands on his swordbelt. He only held it for so long before a laugh erupted from him, a boyish grin curving his lips.
"Why, with my lady's favor, there is no doubt that I will win, triumphing in all that I set out to do."
"Well," Jeyne took a slip of blue silk from her dress, knotting it around Aegon's sword arm. "I expect you to return to the Vale with tales of glory for you and your companions. My honor is at stake now."
Aegon touched the silk tenderly. "No need to worry." He smiled to himself, then cupped her cheek and placed a kiss on the other. Jeyne felt her cheeks warm as Aegon pulled away. "The next time that we meet, I shall have a bronze dragon just for you."