The next day, Rhaegon woke to the gentle touch of lips on his flesh. He opened his eyes to find Evelyn and Cassandra Hightower attending to him, their mouths working in unison as they pleasured him. The twins, Vaenya and Rhaenya, still slept atop his chest, their bodies warm and soft against his skin. He let the sensation of their tongues wash over him, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched their heads bob.
His pleasure was interrupted when his sisters began to stir. Vaenya's eyes fluttered open, followed by Rhaenya's. They glanced down to see what their brother was doing, then their gazes shifted to the Hightower sisters. A moment of stillness passed as the twins took in the sight, before they reacted with a burst of jealousy. They bit Rhaegon's shoulders, hard enough to leave marks, then kissed the spots they had bitten, their tongues teasing the sensitive flesh.
Evelyn and Cassandra, startled, stopped their ministrations and looked up at the twins in confusion. "What are you doing?" Cassandra asked, her voice breathless.
"That is our brother," Vaenya said. "He is to be our husband. He is ours." Rhaenya echoed the sentiment, her voice just as firm.
Rhaegon chuckled, stroking his sisters' hair. "They are my women too," he explained. "They will be my wives. It is tradition in our family, a practice from Old Valyria. Brother and sister, to keep our bloodline pure, so we can bond with dragons, and preserve our power in the family."
The Hightower sisters exchanged a glance, considering this. They had, after all, already given themselves to Rhaegon. If these strange twins were his sisters, then they supposed they were his as well. "We don't care about that, we are yours," Evelyn said, her voice subdued, yet willing. Cassandra nodded in agreement.
Breakfast in the Hightower solar was a polite affair. Manfred Hightower could not help but note the ease with which his daughters interacted with Rhaegon and his sisters. Perhaps the union he had been considering was not as far-fetched as he had thought. Addam glowered silently at the Targaryens, still nursing his grievances from the previous day. Lady Ellyn watched her sisters-in-law, noting their changed demeanor. They seemed more womanly this morning, but she said nothing, only smiled to herself.
Jeyne Hightower, observing her own daughters, knew they had not slept in their chambers last night. She saw the speculative looks Seraphina and Lyanna cast at Evelyn and Cassandra, and wondered if her suspicions were correct. But she said nothing, only watched and waited. The breakfast passed swiftly, the company civil and cordial, each member of the Hightower family lost in their own thoughts as they pondered the events of the previous night and the changes it had wrought.
Once their morning meal finished, Aegon and Visenya took their leave, entrusting their children to the care of the Hightowers. "We shall take good care of them, you need not worry," Lady Ellyn Hightower assured them. Her own daughters, eager to please Rhaegon, nodded in agreement, their eagerness evident.
Once their parents had departed, Rhaegon and his sisters were left in the company of Evelyn, Cassandra, Seraphina, and Lyanna.
"Would you like to see something wonderful, Rhaegon?" Evelyn asked, her voice bright and excited. "The top of the Hightower has a beacon. You can see Oldtown in its entirety from there, and the sea stretching out far beyond."
"That sounds marvelous," Vaenya said, her eyes wide with excitement, that was their plan yesterday.
Rhaegon grinned, taking his sister's hands. "Lead the way."
They climbed the winding stairs of the Hightower, the air growing colder and damper as they ascended. At the top, they emerged onto a flat expanse of stone, open to the sky, where a great metal beacon stood. The wind howled around them, whistling through the beacon and sending chills down their spines. But the view was breathtaking. The whole of Oldtown sprawled beneath them, the maze of streets and buildings, the docks with their crowded ships, and beyond, the sea stretching to the horizon.
Rhaegon moved to the edge, looking out over the city. His sisters crowded close, their bodies pressing against his, seeking his warmth against the wind. He turned his head, capturing Vaenya's mouth in a fierce kiss. She melted against him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Rhaenya, not to be left out, pushed her way in, pressing her lips to his cheek, her hands roaming over his chest.
Evelyn and Cassandra watched, their hearts pounding. They exchanged a glance, then approached Rhaegon from behind, their hands slipping beneath his tunic to caress his back and chest. Rhaegon groaned, his body responding to their touch. He turned his head, capturing Evelyn's mouth in a heated kiss, while Cassandra nipped at his ear.
Seraphina and Lyanna gaped at their siblings, shocked by their boldness, already imagining what his sisters and Rhaegon did last night.
"Look," Lyanna said, pointing out to sea. A ship was coming into the harbor, its sails bright against the gray sky. But no one paid her any heed. They were too caught up in the moment, in the touch and taste of each other.
Finally, Rhaegon broke away, breathing heavily, and continued admiring the landscape with the flushed girls.
A while later, they descended to the lower floors of the tower. "We should like to visit the market in Oldtown," Evelyn suggested to her father.
Manfred Hightower, overhearing the conversation, considered the request. "Very well," he said after a moment's thought. "But I will not have you wandering about unguarded." He called for his son and the brother of the girls, Gerold, and commanded him to gather a team of guards to escort the children and keep them safe.
With Gerold and a dozen guards in tow, the group set out for the market. The streets were crowded, the air filled with the cries of vendors and the bustle of buyers. Rhaegon found himself drawn to a stand where a silversmith peddled his wares. There were necklaces with precious stones set in silver, and he bought one for each of the girls, and for his mother and aunt as well. The girls crowded around the stand, their eyes wide with delight.
Rhaegon also selected a ring for himself, a heavy band of black iron with a skull carved from ruby. As he tried it on, he noticed a stand nearby piled high with books and scrolls. He wandered over, his brows furrowing as he scanned the titles.
Among the books was an ancient map, yellowed and brittle with age. It depicted the borders of the Seven Kingdoms, the rivers and mountains, the castles and cities, all drawn with a cartographer's precise hand. Rhaegon unrolled it carefully, his eyes tracing the lines of the map. A sense of excitement filled him as maybe this was the sort of thing his father would like, given he later sent people to customize a big wooden table with Westeros depicted on it before his landing.
"I will take this," he said, rolling up the map and handing it to the bookseller. As the man wrapped it in oilcloth, Rhaegon turned to his sisters as they and the girls wore their necklaces. "Come, let's find something else of interest."
They wandered through the market, the guards following them at a discreet distance. Rhaegon was drawn to a stall where weapons hung from hooks, their blades gleaming in the sunlight. He ran his hand along the edge of a long dagger with inscriptions along this blade, testing its sharpness, liking his design he bought it along a metal sheath, fastening it on his belt.
As they continued through the market, Rhaegon's arm was linked with his sisters, each holding one of his hands. Manfred's daughters walked closely behind, their eyes gleaming with curiosity at the stalls. The guards watched them warily, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords, ready for any sign of danger.
They paused at a sweetstall, where a confectioner was selling cakes and pastries, the sweet scent of baking sugar and butter wafting through the air. "I am hungry," Vaenya complained, her stomach rumbling.
"Me too," Rhaenya echoed, and the other girls nodded in agreement.
Rhaegon bought them all honeycakes, their favorite, and they settled on a bench to enjoy their treat. As they ate, they listened to the chatter of the people around them, the buzz of gossip and news passing from stall to stall.
"...and that Hightower, never stops, does he? Taking the maidenheads of any girl who crosses his path," a stout woman's voice rose above the crowd. "I heard he took two brides just two nights ago, both young and newlywed."
The thin woman beside her nodded gravely. "Aye, and the husbands didn't say a word, not a single protest sending them his way, I hear them ending up drunk in the tavern fighting other people cursing our lord."
Rhaegon remained quiet, his brow slightly furrowed as he listened. Beside him, Vaenya and Rhaenya exchanged glances, not understanding the situation, though neither spoke, being tactful of the sisters. The four sisters, ever composed, kept their gaze elsewhere, nibbling on their honeycakes without comment.
"A custom of the Andals," Rhaegon said quietly, his voice flat and neutral. "The first night belongs to the lord."
He rose from the bench intending to finish his honeycake somewhere else, his expression calm but thoughtful. "Let's go. There's nothing more to do here." the guards surely will deal with these gossipers after they leave, defaming their lord in public, surely will be punished.
Inwardly he was thinking, that the Faith of the Seven, which so zealously fights against Targaryen customs like incest, says nothing of this. The Faith stirs the masses against a practice that harms no one beyond the family itself, yet they ignore this practice, where a lord takes from his people and humiliates them with impunity. And the smallfolk say nothing against customs like these, perhaps they do not care or perhaps they are afraid. They are willing to fight for their faith when it comes to things like marriage and family, but when a lord takes their wives and daughters, they accept it. Maybe the men of this world don't mind giving their women to other men. Or maybe it's easier to fight a distant cause than the one that sits in front of them.
Their visit to the market finished, they headed back towards the Hightower, their guards still following them. As they approached the massive tower, his sisters took note of a big place with the seven-pointed star.
"The Starry Sept," Seraphina said seeing the girl's interest. "The sept of the Faith. My mother goes there to pray from time to time."
"We should visit it," Rhaenya said, her eyes bright with curiosity. "I've never been inside a sept."
Rhaegon looked at Vaenya, who shrugged. "Why not?" he said. "We have time, also the High Septon invited us."
The sept was a large building, its walls whitewashed and gleaming in the afternoon sun. As they approached, a man came out to greet them, his robes adorned with a seven-pointed star. "Greetings," he said, smiling. "I am Septon Landon, the High Septon's voice in Oldtown. Welcome to the Starry Sept."
Rhaegon got to know him yesterday, he is Manfred's son and brother of the girls, so they saluted him familiarly.
He led them inside, his steps quick and his manner cheerful. "The High Septon has given orders that you are to be shown every courtesy during your stay in Oldtown," he said. "Is there anything in particular you wish to see?"
"Everything," Vaenya said, her eyes wide.
"Very well," Septon Landon said, leading them through the sept. "We have the seven aspects of God here, each with its own altar and septon to tend it. And we have a library, of course, filled with the wisdom of the ages."
Rhaegon and his sisters followed the septon through the building, their eyes taking in the carvings and the statues, the mosaics and the stained glass. They stopped at the altar of the Father, where Septon Landon showed them a large stone shaped like a phallus, standing upright and covered with carved runes. "This is the symbol of the Father," he said. "The life-giver, the seed, the root of all life."
Vaenya glanced at Rhaegon, her eyes thoughtful, but she said nothing. They moved on, visiting the altars of the Mother, the Warrior, the Smith, the Crone, the Maiden, and the Stranger.
At the library, Rhaegon lingered, his eyes scanning the shelves filled with books, he wasn't surprised at the nice and big library that the faith had, because their people were learned, different from the ignorant smallfolk, still, it couldn't compare to the citadel and the maesters knowledge.
He led them away from the library, his steps brisk. They continued visiting a few places of interest until Septon Landon led them back towards the entrance of the sept, his manner still cheerful and welcoming. "Thank you for coming to visit," he said. "I hope you found it... enlightening."
"Yes, it was very interesting," Rhaegon said, his eyes on the setting sun. The day was coming to an end, the light fading quickly. "We should be going. We still have to return to the Hightower."
They said their farewells to Septon Landon, and left the sept, their guards falling in behind them.
They were greeted warmly when they returned to the Hightower, Manfred and Jeyne both praising their daughters' conduct and thanking Rhaegon and his sisters for taking the girls out. "I am pleased that you are getting along so well," Manfred said, his eyes warm. "I have hopes for our houses, if this is how you treat each other."
Dinner was served on the terrace, the night air cool and the stars shining brightly overhead. The servants brought out trays of food and set them on the long tables, the scent of roasted meat and warm bread filling the air. Rhaegon and his sisters sat with the Hightowers, the girls chattering excitedly about their day.
Rhaegon ate slowly, his appetite still sated from the honeycakes. He listened to the conversation, his eyes on the stars above. As they finished their meal, the servants brought out sweets and fruit, wine and mead. Rhaegon sipped at his mead, thought of starting a few plans when they came back to Dragonstone, the time was passing, and decisive future events were getting closer.