#if i stop reblogging naked aemond
Note
I love the way you write possessive Aemond in your work. I love the idea of a possessive slightly unhinged Aemond wanting something/someone for himself. Especially because he’s is intelligent and cunning enough to do low key wild and manipulative things to make sure he gets to be with the person he wants. I’m so excited when I saw you tagged possessive Aemond in the last few writings you posted
— 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘.
gif credit.
© aemvnd 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.
author’s note: …here we fucking go again. yea, i’m writing a lil drabble about my slut of a husband, aemond. do i regret it? no. i hope you enjoy & please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback..! it really helps me stay motivated to keep writing. thank you, babes. ♡
warnings: minors dni. light smut. dark themes. fingering. kissing. female pronouns. possessive behavior. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count: 790.
pairings: aemond targaryen x reader (f).
♡࿐ aemond targaryen has always thought of you as his.
his to protect, his to care for, his to love. ever since he met you, he surrounded himself around you, keeping you close by his side and never letting you out of his sight – unless absolutely necessary, and one of his most trusted guards had to be with you at all times.
even then, aemond would be on edge, not trusting anyone else to protect you like he could.
you thought he was charming.
aemond would look at you like you’re the center of the universe, like you held all of the stars.
aemond thinks it’s cute when you learn something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new information with him – even if he already knows it.
on lazy days, the prince will sit with you in his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist protectively–(while his other arm would be underneath the skirt of your dress, softly caressing the naked part of your smooth inner thighs with the tips of his fingers, teasingly)–and listen intently while you try and explain what you’ve just learned to him.
nonchalantly, he’d nod along, though would be just as focused on your plush lips moving as well as the words pouring out of them.
although, halfway through explaining, you’d turn around in his lap and claim his mouth against yours hungrily, while his fingers would slowly fuck your dripping cunt in the secluded library, not stopping until you’d come harshly on his lap.
there would be times where aemond would sneak into your chambers to spend time with you, specifically at the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close as physically possible to you. he loves you so much, he doesn’t ever want you to doubt his love for you.
during those private evenings, aemond would claim you as his – multiple times until you were a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him, in his arms.
he’d leave all sorts of love marks behind, kissing every inch of your skin he could reach, before thrusting his long, thick cock into your sweet cunt with both of your moans echoing off the walls.
you’d be terrified of somebody finding out about you two, but aemond would always reassure you – whispering sweet praises in your ear, calming you by kissing your neck and jaw as you’d let out the most irresistible moans for him as he continued fucking into you, uncaring of who heard you both.
…besides, if someone did manage to find out about the two of you, he’d kill them without a seconds notice.
aemond is very possessive over you, to the point that some of the lords and ladies started to take notice, though aemond paid them little attention.
some days, when the weather was warm and the sun was shining, aemond would bring you on long walks through the gardens, just the two of you.
there was a secret hidden place, surrounded by various trees and gorgeous flowers, and aemond would press your back up against one of the many thick trees, kissing you so passionately that you’d see stars.
“marry me,” aemond begged, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck, causing a whimper to escape your pretty lips, your breathing coming out in short, little gasps.
“mmm.. no,” you drawled, though your tone is teasing. “my father is suspicious of all the rumors about us, but he doesn’t ask. i feel like maybe he’s afraid of you,” you giggled, batting your eyelashes up at the handsome prince.
the prince smiles, pleased.
“besides,” you continued, your voice saddened and your heart breaking into a million little pieces. “my father.. he will arrange a marriage for me someday and i must–“
“that'll never happen,” aemond cuts you off, confidently. “if your father tries to take you away from me, he’ll suffer a horribly painful death.”
your heart flutters, your cheeks heating up and your head beginning to feel faint. “you're so sweet.” you whisper, smiling.
“only for you, my sweet girl.” the prince says, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheekbone, before bending down and capturing your lips in his once more – he tastes of honey and strawberries.
you moan, high pitched and so needy for him.
gods, he loved you.
aemond grinned, continuing his assault downwards your delicate neck. “marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient. you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly on his chin, making him squeeze your waist in equal affection.
“be my wife,” he says, tone commanding and sweet as sugar and death.
you sighed, pulling back just slightly so that your lips brushed softly over his, “i’d love nothing more.”
fin
feel free to send in requests / thots here.
#◜ 𝗇𝗈𝖺’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 ˚✧ ꜝ#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x reader#aemond imagine#aemond smut#aemond fluff#prince aemond#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd s1#hotd
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Ravenous.
Summary:
In the months following the birth of their daughter, Aemond and Vaera cannot seem to keep their hands off each other.
Warning(s): Little Time Skips, Swearing, Smut, Lactation Kink, Kissing Fingering, Oral Sex M/F receiving, multiple P in V encounters.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
SHAMELESS SMUT!!
Word Count: 2691.
Author Note: A companion piece to Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/ Rooks Rest & the Silver King/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye, The Fallen Queen & New Beginnings.
But can be read as a one-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
“I want you” muttered Vaera as she began undoing the buckles on Aemond’s leather jerkin.
“Are you sure?” asked Aemond.
“Yes. Take me husband. I want to feel you inside me. It’s been so long” gasped Vara as she quickly pulled off the rest of Aemond’s clothes.
Unable to wait any longer, Aemond hooked his hands under Vaera’s arms and tossed her on the bed.
Vaera squealed playfully as she bounced on the opulent mattress.
“You’re entirely overdressed" growled Aemond, pouncing on his wife.
Vaera squealed again, as Aemond quickly wrestled her out of her clothes.
Aemond then took hold of Vaera’s wrists and held them up over her head, lying on top of her.
Vaera arched up into him, pressing against Aemond’s naked body.
“So, you want to play" purred Aemond, before running his tongue along his wife’s neck.
Aemond felt Vaera shiver beneath him and he smirked.
Aemond then descended on Vaera’s swollen lips, kissing her, while his hands roamed her soft naked body.
His hands gently caressing his wife’s milk swollen breasts.
Aemond released Vaera’s mouth and bent down to lick her nipples, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he went back and forth between his wife’s wonderful, enlarged breasts that nourished their daughter.
“Oh” muttered Vaera as she flung her arms over her face in embarrassment, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.
“Do not feel embarrassed Issa jorrāelagon” whispered Aemond (My love).
Aemond ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.
“Hm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suck his wife’s breasts.
“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.
“Surely you would not deprive me Issa dōna ābrazȳrys? Your mother’s milk tastes delicious” muttered Aemond softly (My sweet wife).
Vaera was arching her back, trying to rub herself against Aemond which he didn't allow.
Playing with her breasts not only made Aemond very happy but was driving Vaera totally crazy.
After a few minutes, Vaera was writhing for him and Aemond slid further down her body, spreading her thighs further apart, so he could get a good look at his sought-after prize.
“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue up Vaera’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.
“Oh, my god” moaned Vaera her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).
“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Vaera.
"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaera, running his tongue along every fold.
"More" panted Vaera. "Please. I need more”.
Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.
“Oh, fuck" whimpered Vaera; her chest heaving.
Vaera was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that anyone passing their chambers would surely hear.
Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.
“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me” moaned Aemond.
Gods he was so hard, it was almost painful.
Finally, he felt Vaera’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaera’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.
Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife whilst she came. Soon her tense body went slack and pliant.
“I need you NOW!!”
Aemond couldn't wait any longer. He surged up and ploughed his hard cock into Vaera’s soaked cunt.
"AEMOND!" shouted Vaera, her eyes popping open from her post-orgasm haze.
"You feel so good" rasped Aemond.
"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Vaera, her tone bordering on desperate as she thrust her hips upward towards his.
Aemond chuckled and bit down lightly on a nipple, making Vaera moan and squirm.
He started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.
"Faster, Aemond" begged Vaera.
"Patience, Issa zaldrīzes. This is our first time since you birthed our daughter" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up Vaera’s neck (My dragon).
“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Vaera.
Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. Her nimble fingers mapped his back muscles and then went down to his arse and gripped him - pressing him into her harder.
“Gods, Vaera" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.
"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Vaera "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me what I need. Make me scream, make me come. Give me your seed. I want it”.
Aemond knew exactly what Vaera was doing, but he couldn’t help himself.
Vaera wanted faster and he was going much faster now; so much for having the control in the situation. His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips.
Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.
Vaera was meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaera; not caring if anyone could hear them.
Vaera always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.
Vaera clamped down around Aemond’s cock so hard he could hardly move. That, combined with how glorious Vaera looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.
“God. Vaera” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside his wife’s wet heat.
It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses.
His wife was laid underneath him completely blissed out; their sweaty bodies pressed together.
As he made his way back to his chambers, Aemond considered that there might be something wrong with him, in the months since Vharla's birth all wanted to do was fuck his wife.
Even during the council meeting. She was all he could think about.
Morning, noon, and night. Her writhing and screaming his name as he brought her to peak. The way she would beg so desperately for him, and he fucked her hard.
He regularly attended to his duties as Hand of the King, he trained with Ser Criston, he spent time with Rhaegar and Vharla, but he never missed an opportunity to get between his wife’s soft thighs.
His sexual appetite had grown ravenous, he was insatiable, he was obsessed.
His wife was a goddess amongst men. She deserved to be worshiped and Aemond was always ready to kneel before her alter and give his thanks.
“How did the council meeting go?” asked Vaera as he entered their chambers.
“Boring” muttered Aemond as he shut the heavy wooden door.
“Glad I gave it a miss then” replied Vaera.
“You are the Mistress of Laws. Your absence at council meetings is unacceptable”.
“Oooh somebodies grumpy. Am I in trouble daddy?” muttered Vaera.
“Vaera” exclaimed Aemond, his cock twitching.
“What?” questioned Vaera innocently.
“This is the third meeting you’ve missed, If I have to suffer those boring cunts on the council then so do you” replied Aemond, his singular eye roving over his wife’s luscious body.
“But I have other duties that I need to prepare for”.
“Such as?” asked Aemond.
“Well, I could show you better than I could tell you”.
Before Aemond could say anything, Vaera sank down to her knees and was undoing the laces of his breeches.
Was she seriously going to? Oh yes she was.
Aemond’s breeches were quickly pulled down, and Vaera freed her husband’s cock from the confines of his small clothes.
Aemond stared down at his naughty little wife, his mouth hanging open as Vaera lightly ran her fingers over him.
Next thing he knew, Vaera’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around the head of his cock.
Vaera’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.
“Fuck, Vaera!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.
Vaera ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.
Aemond’s knees almost buckled when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.
Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.
When Vaera engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Vaera was driving him crazy.
Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch his precious wife sucking his cock.
“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.
Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Vaera’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.
Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.
“I’m not going to last” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.
Vaera smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.
“It feels so good” groaned Aemond.
Vaera responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand cupped his stones.
“Shit Vaera! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.
His sweet wife took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.
When he recovered, Aemond saw Vaera’s self-satisfied smile.
“Am I forgiven for missing the council meeting?” asked Vaera.
“Most definately” exclaimed Aemond as he helped his wife to her feet and reached down to quickly pull up his small clothes and breeches.
“Don’t worry husband, you can please me later. Until then I’ll stay nice and wet for you” exclaimed Vaera as she left a stunned Aemond standing in the middle of their chambers.
H-How was he supposed to function now she’d said that? That teasing little-
Aemond shook his head and then chased after Vaera.
“Not so fast Issa dōna” roared Aemond as he caught up to his wife and slammed her against the wall (My sweet).
“A-Aemond” squeaked Vaera in mild surprise.
“Did you really think, you could just say something like that to me and get away with it?”
Oh, she was in for it now.
“No. I’m going to drag you back to our chambers and have you”.
“Yes” exclaimed Vaera, her eyes twinkling.
“Or I might just have you right here” whispered Aemond as he pulled Vaera into an alcove and turned her around.
“W-What?” gasped Vaera.
“Place your hands on the wall my love and bend over” muttered Aemond.
“Anyone could see us”.
“Best be quite then ābrazȳrys” exclaimed Aemond (Wife).
This is what she gets for teasing him. She should feel ashamed. She should stop this. But she doesn’t want too. Oh, how she loved her naughty husband.
“Do it. Please fuck me” whined Vaera.
Kings Landing was alive with celebration, the bells were ringing, and the bards were singing it was King Aegon’s name day and in his honour a magnificent tourney was being held.
A tourney, which Aemond was adamant that he didn’t give a shit about, but still entered anyway and ended up winning.
His proud smirk plastered across his face as he placed a wreath of flowers upon his wife’s head, crowning her the Queen of love and beauty.
“He’s going to be insufferable now” moaned Aegon.
But Vaera was proud, her husband was a fearsome fighter, dedicated to his craft.
The people of the realm applauded his victory.
But there was only one way her husband wanted to celebrate and soon after the tourney had ended and the children had been settled. Vaera had been dragged back to their chambers and fucked senseless on a desk.
“YES! YES!” screamed Vaera.
“That’s it. Come for me!" growled Aemond as he moved his mouth to Vaera’s neck, gently sucking on her smooth skin.
Vaera’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she exploded around her husband’s cock.
Aemond slowed down his thrusts as he waited for Vaera to ride out her peak.
Aemond was feeling primal at the sight and sound of his wife reaching her peak. More, he needed more. She can take it. I know she can.
Once Vaera had come down from her peak, Aemond started thrusting hard and fast.
Relentless and deep.
Aemond felt Vaera’s hips moving against his. The both of them in perfect rhythm.
Vaera wrapped her arms tightly around her husband’s neck as he slammed into her again and again.
Harder. Deeper. Faster.
All of Vaera’s self-control was long gone.
Both husband and wife were completely lost in the moment, gripping onto each other.
Vaera was on the edge yet again as she begged for more.
Aemond could feel Vaera clenching around him.
“That’s it my sweet. Be good for me. I know you can”.
Aemond then removed all but the tip of his penis from inside Vaera, gently teasing his sweet mewling wife.
Vaera writhed against him, trying to impale herself on him.
"Please. Aemond. Don’t tease me. I want all of you" whimpered Vaera.
Aemond surged forward. Slow and deep strokes. All the way in, and all the way out. Slow and steady, every inch sliding deep inside his wife.
Vaera’s amethyst eyes revealed just how desperate she was for him and Aemond loved it.
He loved watching Vaera struggle to keep her composure. He wanted to drive her crazy with desire.
Vaera screamed Aemond’s name as he pounded into her.
Aemond’s eye alight as she fell apart, watching as another peak tore through her.
“I love that I can make you come over and over again. It feels so good”.
Aemond didn't give Vaera time to recover this time. Instead, he dove into her. Burying himself in Vaera’s tight wet heat completely.
Again and again, he thrust into her, their sweaty bodies colliding. He slammed himself against Vaera as she whimpered nonsensically. Lost in the moment.
"Aemond! Oh, Aemond” screamed Vaera as she felt his cock throbbing inside her.
"YES” groaned Aemond loudly.
With that, he thrust into Vaera one final time, shoving his cock deep.
Vaera’s entire body pulsating with euphoria as she clenched tightly around her husband.
Aemond threw his head back and moaned loudly as he exploded deep inside Vaera.
“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.
“Hm”
“You-Your amazing” said Vaera smiling.
“As are you my love” replied Aemond, his voice slightly muffled as his face was buried in his wife’s neck, his softened cock still nestled inside his wife’s warm wet cunny.
“I think we should bathe” muttered Vaera.
“Give it a few minutes and I’ll call for the maid. I’ll also request moontea”.
“I-I don’t need it” whispered Vaera her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the desk.
“What?” asked Aemond raising his head sharply.
“I’m with child again”.
“A-Are you sure?” exclaimed Aemond.
“Yes. I saw Maester Munkun yesterday. I was going to tell you tonight” replied Vaera.
Aemond stared wordlessly at Vaera, his gaze alternating between her reddened face and her stomach.
He shouldn’t really be surprised in the slightest, the amount of times they’ve bedded one another in the last few months, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
He remembered his wife’s words when they were courting. She’d been so lonely during her own childhood that she never wanted any of her own children to suffer the same fate, so she desired to have as many children as her body and her husband would grant her.
A family of her own that they had created. Born out of love. It was all Vaera had ever wanted.
But the primal urge inside him had roared to life at the knowledge that his seed had yet again taken root.
His wife would soon be round with yet another one of his babes and it pleased him immensely.
He could feel himself getting hard again at the thought.
“Come now wife. Let us celebrate our good news” muttered Aemond as he thrust forward.
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#hotd fanfic#aemond x oc#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#aemond fic#aemond x original female character#hotd fic#hotd smut#aemond smut
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The Midnight Relief - Part 4 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW
Summary: Your relationship with Prince Aemond has changed, so much that you tend to forget not only who you are but who he truly is.
Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Fingering, Squirting, Breeding kink, Dubious Consent, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst and Fluff.
Author's note: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. I have been very busy with work lately so I couldn't find time to focus on writing this story. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter nevertheless. Next chapter will probably be the last one. Tell me how you imagine the end of this fan fiction. And please do not hesitate to like or reblog this chapter (it is the best reward for any writer)
Your eyes opened slowly at dawn, woken up by the first rays that shone through the large lancet windows. They did not dazzle you – they were too orange and dim for that - but you blinked a few times with a smile upon your face, not because of the light but to make sure the blurry pale silhouette that was slowly taking shape before your sleepy and lidded eyes would not disappear as quick as dew in the morning sun.
Aemond looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was as if the ferocious aura he carried within him all day long disappeared during the night to allow him a short moment of serenity. Seeing him like this was surprising and unexpected. You always thought he would be the kind of man to sleep with a frown and with his fists clenched … and possibly a dagger underneath his pillow.
You chuckled silently at this idea, finding it more amusing than formidable and you wrapped your naked body in the soft sheet with a happy grin on your face to enjoy the view and the comfort of Aemond’s bed a little longer.
You had never slept in a bed like this one. All you knew were poor thin mattresses on the floor and scratchy patched blankets that couldn’t keep you warm at night. But you definitely could get used it: the mattress as soft as a pile of delicate feathers, the fine cotton sheets so pleasant to the skin and the naked handsome prince sleeping by your side. They could almost make you believe you belonged here and not in a humid crowded dorm. If only the whole world was just this bed. Life would be so much easier.
You didn’t know how long you gazed at Aemond, your fingertips connecting the few moles on his milky chest by tracing invisible lines like an astronomer would draw constellations, but when you began to hear the growing hubbub in the corridors outside the prince’s room, you thought it might be time for you to leave your waking dream.
You instinctively pecked Aemond’s shoulder and reluctantly abandoned the warm sheets to get out of the bed and go back to your harsh reality. But before you could put a toe on the stone floor, a sleepy raspy voice stopped you.
“May I ask where you’re going? I did not dismiss you and I certainly did not order you to stop what you were doing.”
You glanced briefly over your shoulder and beamed away from Aemond’s sight, amused by the domesticity that warmed your heart.
Your relationship had changed greatly since the One-Eyed Targaryen’s return from Storm’s End a week ago. It had become gentler and more lighthearted and it had made you forget on many occasions that you were a mere serving girl whom the prince could treat like his personal whore.
All the moments spent in his company - whether they were in his bed or not - had become almost customary. Aemond would not summon you on a whim anymore to take it out on your cunt after a rough day (and he had had many rough days recently), nor would he dismiss you with nonchalance after being done with your service – sexual or not.
Every day, he would find a way to spend some time in your company. In the morning he would greet you with a smile à la Aemond, faint and controlled but genuine, talk to you as you would do his hair and then wait for you to finish cleaning his rooms before leaving for training only to find you again in the afternoon always in his chambers where he would study and occasionally glance at you playing the lute from above his book. Then after his usual evening on Vhagar’s back he would summon you again to bring him his supper and spend the rest of the night with you by the fire and then in his bed in which he would hump you over and over again until the hour would become too late.
Both of you loved and thrived in these new habits for they gave you comfort and a way out of your lives that were doomed to become darker.
A black threat was looming over King’s Landing. You both could feel it but for now you would ignore it and enjoy your new shared frivolity as much as possible.
“It’s dawn.” You declared, knowing your fellow servants would stare at you and probably ask nosy questions on your whereabouts and your absence in your dorm last night once you’d go back to them. You had never slept elsewhere before.
“Indeed, and it’s been dawn for a while now.” Aemond agreed, still lying in his bed with his eye still closed which made you wonder how long he had been pretending to be still asleep.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to find your staring annoying.” He grumbled.
“But my touching intoxicating.” You added as you chuckled and then you scanned the bed quickly to find your undergarments. You had to get dressed.
But before you could find them, Aemond pounced on you by surprise. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you against his warm solid chest so that he could lay you down in the bed again.
You squealed at first but then giggled as he handled you and trapped you underneath his pale naked body and a tent of white sheets.
“Touch me more. Your prince commands you.”
“The prince can touch himself.” You retorted with funny defiance that Aemond pretended to glare at to keep his callous reputation intact. But he could not trick you.
“My hands are busy at the moment.” His grip around your wrists tightened briefly to make you understand what he meant by that and you tried to escape his hold to send him a similar message.
“And mines are captive.”
“Hmm… Then what about your perfect lips? Do you think they can give me a soft kiss?”
You chuckled as Aemond approached your face with the intention to claim your mouth. His heart-shaped lips brushed yours softly over and over again to make them reciprocate his affection. So, you parted your lips a bit and deliberately barely responded to his little pecks. You knew he would not appreciate your lack of submission and passion but there was a reason behind your restraint. You wanted to tease Aemond until he would turn his softness into something more blazing, which he ultimately did.
His kisses multiplied and quickly became more frustrated and desperate, furiously begging you to just respond to his lips and give him what he craved.
You eventually did and pulled at his plump flesh with your mouth. You felt his proud victory in his smirk as he leant into the kiss, unaware of the little mischief you had in mind. Gloating in silence, you let Aemond lose himself in the kiss and when he finally released your wrists to spread your legs and get comfortable between your thighs, your hand slid down his body and suddenly grabbed his semi-hard cock as you bit his lower lip.
“Ow!” He complained, more surprised than hurt, his pink flesh still in between your teeth, and then when you finally let go of him, he grabbed your wrists again to pin then down above your head. “I said a soft kiss.”
“Really? I thought you said rough.” You joked as you tried to bite him again. This time Aemond saw it coming and he recoiled to frown at you even though he was as amused as you were. He genuinely liked that frivolous wild side of you and he secretly wished he had discovered it way sooner. It would have cheered his days up.
“You’re about to get it rough if you don’t behave.” He threatened and you sank back in the mattress, pretending to be impressed even if in truth your eyes were sparkling with pride and mischief and a cheeky smirk was discreetly tugging at your lips.
“I have to go back to my toils.”
“I forbid you.” The prince immediately retorted before giving you a half-serious look that meant ‘don’t you dare bite me this time’. You giggled almost silently and Aemond nestled his face in your neck to lay a few humid kisses on your warm skin.
“What about your morning training?”
“I like this routine better.” He mumbled between two pecks that made you squirm.
“I might not be as educated as you are but I don’t think you can call this a routine since it is the first time it happens.”
“We’ll make it a routine then.” His answers came all so quick you wondered if he even put some thought into them or if he was simply acting reckless again just like last night when he made you stay. “I would love to wake up in your presence more often… every day in fact.”
“In my presence or in something else?” You teased, conscious of his cock growing harder between your thighs
“In anything you wish to offer me.” He purred in your neck.
“No, Aemond. What do you want?”
For reasons you couldn’t explain, your question had come out with more seriousness than intended. When you felt the Targaryen prince’s lips freeze on your skin and his body become still against yours, you realised that your words had not fallen on deaf ears.
Aemond looked up at you with sad puppy eyes only you were allowed to see but deep down he was grateful. No one had ever asked him what he wanted, never in his young life, because what he wanted did not matter. What mattered was duty. Duty above all else.
“So many things I can’t have.”
Hidden with you under the tent made of white sheets - a tiny world in which there was just you and him and no one else to hear him - he wished to enumerate them all, tell you about his desire for recognition and love, about his thirst for power and secret aspiration to the Iron Throne. He also wished to admit that he did not enjoy being an asset for his family anymore, that he did not want to marry Floris Baratheon and that the recent time with you had made him realise there was only one woman he craved to have forever not only in his bed but by his side. However, as usual, he kept everything to himself. His pitiful confessions could wait. They didn’t have their place in that lovely cotton nest you two had built together.
“But right now, I want your surrender.” He pressed his cock to your core to change the subject but you still had enough control to keep the conversation going.
“We both know you’re too stub…persistent to truly renounce something that someone said you couldn’t have.”
“Were you about to call me stubborn? You’re insulting your prince, now?” He humoured.
“How is that an insult?”
“You tell me. You corrected yourself.”
You pondered over your words for a short instant, wondering how you had almost let the word ‘stubborn’ slip. Prince Aemond had the reputation to be easily offended, fierce and prompt to violence and unpredictable outbursts. That’s mostly why you had always weighted your words in his presence. And yet today, you almost didn’t think before speaking and he had welcomed your familiarity with humour, not with the reprisal your old self would have expected. Did your relationship truly change that much? Did he change?
“You’re stubborn.” You finally dared say with a smile when you realized you could say the word without fear. “… but I like your stubbornness.”
Aemond chuckled briefly and he nestled his face back in your neck with an amused smile on his young face.
“Hmm … What else do you like?” He purred as he rubbed his nose on your skin before laying small kisses along your throat and you sighed deeply.
That felt extremely good but you were aware that the goal of his affection was not only your pleasure. It was a very cunning way to make you yield and give your prince what he craved but would not take from you without your submission.
“Your cleverness.” You declared and you cleared your voice as you squirmed lightly under Aemond’s soft pecks.
“And?” You could hear the mischief in his voice as his hands ventured down your sides and his mouth slid down to your chest, leaving a humid track on its way.
You couldn’t answer the prince. Your mind was too busy focusing on his ministrations. You wanted more.
Aemond reached your breasts rather quickly and you inhaled deeply, your eyes staring at his face buried between your mounts. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel your breath quicken.
Instinctively you spread your legs to welcome Aemond between your thighs as soon as he began kissing your breasts one by one. You could tell he dearly enjoyed their softness as he couldn’t stop pecking them and nuzzling in their flesh. When his lips found their way to one of your hard nipple, you bit your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning, but deep down you were just begging Aemond to just capture the little bud and roll his tongue around it.
Your silence drew the prince’s attention and he looked up at you. Your resistance didn’t please him. It toyed with its impatience and he hated that. But the thought of breaking it was exciting and he didn’t mind a little challenge, especially when he was sure of his victory.
“Answer my question, starlight.” He ordered; his lips close to your nipple. “What else do you like about your prince?”
The tip of his tongue tickled the hard bud and you instantly whimpered. Your thighs clenched around Aemond in a vain attempt to soothe the delicious ache building in your pussy. You were getting wet and your arousal was screaming at you to just yield to your prince.
“Your boldness.” You hissed and Aemond rewarded your compliance by planting his mouth on your nipple. This time you couldn’t keep your lustful moan to yourself and a long plaintive ‘ah’ escaped your lips. Aemond chuckled with pride, your teat still in his mouth. He was taking real pleasure in playing with you.
“Tell me more.” He commanded as his hand slid down your stomach to reach your folds. You knew where this was going and you did not wish to struggle anymore. You were craving what was coming as much as Aemond.
“I love your passion.” You admitted, rolling your hips to guide the Targaryen’s fingers and he cupped your cunt to stop you from moving.
“I decide what to do to you.” He roared and you froze. You silently looked at each other deep in the eyes for a moment and when your obedience finally convinced Aemond he slid a finger in your hole.
You sighed immediately and your head sank in the pillow, the heavenly sensations washing over you.
“That’s it. Submit to be. Be a good girl.” Aemond purred as he fingered you slowly to make you yearn for more. “Give yourself to me completely.” And he caught one of your mounts and put your nipple back between his lips to suck on it greedily and nibble it with his teeth gently..
You wrapped your legs around Aemond in a desperate attempt at keeping him against you, loving his hunger and his burning caresses too much to let him go. That’s when you noticed him slowly rubbing his hard cock against the mattress, an instinctive and lustful gesture to certainly ease the ache in his loins. He craved to hump you and you could help but to find his desperate need terribly arousing.
“Aemond.” You whispered to catch his attention, wishing to help him with his painful hardness, but he was too busy sucking at your teat and fingering you to react.
You caressed his hair slowly – how soft it was – and then let your hand slide to his jaw that you brushed delicately with your fingertips. The prince responded to your touch with a grunt and he tightened his grip around your breasts to pull on your nipple even more, almost as if he was a child refusing to let go of his mother’s breasts. He was completely hypnotized by that little bit of flesh in his mouth.
So, you abandoned your idea and let him carry on.
Somehow, his finger managed to find a never-explored area in your cunt that made you abruptly arch your back, clench your thighs and squeal like never before. It surprised Aemond and he didn’t take long to find out the reason of your sudden reaction. He slid a new finger in your drenched cunt and reached the same spot again. You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in the flesh, as you moaned loudly and Aemond curled his fingers.
He let go of your breasts to kneel between your thighs and watch your body shake and squirm under his touch as his digits pumping in and out of you repeatedly massaged the little spongy place within you that he had just discovered.
He was simply fascinated and your reactions were too beautiful and enticing for him to stop. If anything, they were encouraging and he wanted more of them.
“That’s it.” He whispered. Then he put his thumb on your swollen clit to rub it, knowing the touch you make you scream louder. He wasn’t wrong.
You cried out. “Aemond, please.”
“Please what?”
You didn’t know what exactly but you begged. “Faster … harder.”
He indulged you and quickened the pace, going all the way out of you and then right back in again. And soon, your body tensed, your toes curled and you grabbed the sheets as you screamed all the pleasure you felt.
Your orgasm was an uncontrollable explosion whose noise could not be contained by the tent of soft sheets above your head. It burst like wildfire, destroying the unknown dyke inside of you as if it was made of the most fragile material. It squirted all your pleasure out of you and drenched your thighs and Aemond’s hand and bed. “Fuck!” You cried out as you tried to push the prince away, astonished and rather embarrassed by what was happening to you.
But the Targaryen didn’t care. On the contrary he seemed to genuinely like it considering the amused satisfied smirk on his face as he kept relentlessly toying with your g-spot to empty you even more.
“Hmm” He laughed and continued to finger you hard as you were still dazed and confused. His eye was dark and full of lust and you could tell he wanted more.
“I don’t think I c—”
It turned out you could and another surprising spurt came out of your cunt making you whimper and wet yourself and Aemond once more.
“Seven heavens, I love this.” Aemond giggled darkly, proud of his doing. “But I definitely have to hump you now.”
He brutally let go of your cunt and flipped you over to grab your hips and bring your arse to his pelvis. He slapped your cheek, making your squeal and squirm and immediately plunged his hard in your drenched cunt. It slid in so easily the prince felt the need to growl. His fingers digging in your flesh, he kept you firmly in place to initiate a series of hammering and almost-punishing quick thrusts that reflected the infuriating yet arousing lust he was feeling.
You almost cursed because of his ardour but only a breathless gasp followed by a succession of plaintive moans managed to escape your lips. Bent under Aemond, at the mercy of his relentless drilling, you buried your face into the drenched mattress to muffle the sounds he took great pleasure to get out of you.
“You like this, don’t you, my lewd starlight?” He roared, his voice dark and obscene.
You cried out as you nodded frantically and he pushed himself more into you, so deep you felt his testicles brush your soaked pussy then repeatedly slap your swollen clit that was so happy to meet them. The music of your wet skin meeting was enchanting and you arched your back to embrace Aemond’s smacking hips even more, thankful for the pleasure he was giving you.
“Do you want your prince’s seed inside you?” He asked between gritted teeth. The question was not a surprise. Aemond had stamina but such an enthusiastic pace could make any hardy man empty himself quickly.
You nodded again and dug your nails in the cotton sheets to take what he was so close to give you. But his rhythm slowed a bit and he took a fistful of your hair to bring you against his chest. You mewled because of the slight pain but it was nothing in comparison to Aemond’s cock pulsing in the deepest region of your cunt.
“I didn’t hear you, flower. Do you want your prince’s seed inside you or not?” He repeated in your ear and you felt your walls clench around him.
“Yes…” You admitted with difficultly and you heard him chuckle with dark satisfaction. “… but not today, please… Last time the moon tea gave me an awful stomach ache.”
“Isn’t the pain worth the pleasure?” He purred as he took your breasts in his palms and he resumed his hammering.
You almost crumbled under his merciless pelvis but the prince held you back, keeping you still between his thighs with his hands tightly wrapped around your mounts, your back against his sweating strong chest.
“Aemond … please.” You begged when you understood he would not do as you had asked but once again, he didn’t listen and continued his pounding, chasing his release.
“Just let me give it you, starlight. I want to breed you. I need to breed you. I want that soft belly to carry my child. Please.” His dark voice sounded almost desperate as if his reckless desire to spurt his seed inside you was vital to him.
Aemond’s teeth met your shoulders, biting the flesh hard enough to leave a mark, and his strong arms wrapped around your chest, holding you tight against his torso, on hand pressed on your breasts the other on your lower belly to keep himself deep and you still. His thrusting slowed down but became harder as he began to grunt furiously in your shoulder. Then his muffled noises became plaintive growls similar to whimpers but more animalistic as he finally came deep inside your cunt, splashing your walls with every drop of his seed.
When there was nothing left, Aemond stopped thrusting.
Exhausted and silent, he remained panting and nestled against your back, his arms still around you and his pulsating cock still buried in your hole, refusing to pull out to make sure you’d keep every drop of semen inside of you.
He kissed your shoulder, right where he had bitten you and you smiled, tired just like him.
“You never listen, do you?”
“You said it yourself. I’m stubborn.”
You giggled and it made Aemond chuckle in your neck. His laugh was tired but soft and peaceful, almost childish. Moved by his gentleness and in need for comfort, you turned your head to kiss him. He let you and responded to your peck with tenderness.
But then your eyes widened in horror as you noticed a small child standing by the door of the prince's chambers, his blue look as appalled as yours. You alerted Aemond, screaming his name in panic, as you hastily pushed him away from you to cover your nakedness with the sheets. You truly hoped the boy had not seen anything of your and Aemond’s shared lust but deep down you knew the truth just as you knew this silly optimism was just a way to not give in to alarm.
You stared at the boy, terrorized and already silently begging him to forget everything his innocence – now shattered for ever - had witnessed but his blue eyes fixed upon you as if he was a fawn facing a sharp arrow were telling you he would never.
You opened your mouth to say something but then he quickly turned around to rush out of Aemond’s rooms.
That’s when Aemond jumped out of bed, put on his royal black and green robe made of the finest cotton to run after the boy, the dragon embroidered in the back flying after its prey with deadly purpose.
You knew you should have followed him with the same haste but the fear growing inside you was making all your movements slow and heavy.
“Where are you going like that, snooping rat?” Aemond asked as he caught the boy by his skinny arm in the corridor and pushed him against the stone wall.
The little servant did not answer, terrified by the gigantic and formidable scarred prince that had just trapped him and that was now staring at him with impatience and dark amusement.
“Who told you to come in here?”
“S-s-ser Criston, my prince.” He finally mumbled, trembling like a leaf in a cold wind.
Aemond chuckled briefly, unsurprised by the revelation and he knelt in front of the boy to have a better look at him. He was small and sickly with sandy blond hair and pale skin. His cheeks were hollowed and he had dark circles under his puffy eyes. He had certainly not eaten or slept properly in a while, just like most serving children working in the keep. But somehow, it was another face that came to Prince Aemond's mind as he observed the boy, a face he had seen in a mirror for years. His.
“How old are you?”
“Ten … my prince.”
“Hmm … You don’t look ten.” Aemond declared with a faint smile but that smile was far from kind. “You’re small, puny … a bit like I was when I was a child. A chance I was feisty and bold. Tell me, are you bold?”
The boy sensed the threat in the prince’s question and he shook even more. He crossed his legs, suddenly feeling the need to pee growing in his ragged trousers just like the terror in his empty stomach.
That’s when you entered the corridor slowly and quietly, your shivering hands clinging to the red fabric of your faded servant dress. Standing a few steps away from the boy and the prince, you wanted to intervene. You wanted to come closer and stop Aemond. You wanted to free the poor child and comfort him. But a selfish voice in your head was telling you to reconsider your boldness and your thirst for justice. You've too much to lose, girl.
“No of course not, bold boys don’t run away like cowards.” Aemond declared.
The boy glanced at you from afar, his eyes shining with tears and pleading for your help. But you were just as terrified and paralysed as he was right now and the voice in your head was once more ordering you to stay put. So you stared at the boy definitely sorry and you looked down at your feet in shame.
“Do you know what happened to me when I was ten?” The child looked back at Aemond and shook his head. In response, the prince pointed at the sapphire in his eye socket and the kid stared at the jewel with horror. “This happened. And you see the boy who did this to me, King Viserys, my own father, never punished him for it. If I do something as awful to you, a poor meaningless serving boy, if I take let’s say your tongue to make sure you don’t repeat what you saw in my rooms, King Aegon will do exactly as King Viserys. He will not care about you and he will definitely not punish me. So, there is nothing that can prevent me from making sure you won’t be able to tell a soul about what happened. Do you understand that?”
Your eyes widened and you felt your heart skip a beat. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Aemond couldn't possibly say that, not to a kid. And yet, there was this tiny reasonable part of you, the one that did not love, that knew he could.
“Aemond.” You called out to make him stop and reconsider but your voice was barely louder than a whisper. But this time you were not scared for yourself, you were scared for that kid whose trousers were now getting wetter and wetter between his thighs.
“No child would wish to be so atrociously maimed; don’t you agree? So, promise you’ll forget what you saw and that you won’t tell anyone ever.”
The serving boy nodded quickly and without thinking, his mouth tightly shut as if to protect his little tongue.
“Say it. You still have your tongue.” Aemond encouraged.
“I will forget what I saw and I won’t tell anyone ever” The boy promised, his teeth chattering.
“Good lad. Now go tell Ser Criston I’m on my way.”
Aemond stood up and as soon as he stepped back, the boy ran away as fast as he could, occasionally clanking back to make sure he was not followed or in any danger.
His frightened attitude made Aemond gloat with pride and he looked back at you with a smirk. However, your reaction was not the one he expected. Instead of a look of gratitude or relief, you walked back to his room, looking disappointed and ashamed of him and of yourself.
Aemond frowned and quickly went back to his rooms to ask for explanations.
“Why the look?” He asked with a harsh voice.
You were putting on your white apron, fumbling with the ties in your back. You couldn't stay with him any longer not after what you had witnessed, what you had allowed him to do.
“He’s a child. Did you really need to go that far?”
“I merely intimidated him. He will get over it. Trust me I know."
You shook your head, knowing all too well what he meant by that. But you still couldn't understand how he could take pleasure in treating boys the same way he was once treated, as if they were powerless and insignificant. If anything he should feel sorry for them.
"Besides, he left unscathed, didn’t he? Doesn't that rejoice you?”
You eyed at Aemond, baffled. He didn’t seem to realize how unsympathetic he was.
“He was terrified. He peed himself!” You almost shouted, hoping he would understand the situation he had put the small child in. “You didn’t have to threaten him. A kind explanation even a coin would have been enough to keep him silent.” But it was like talking to a wall.
“Nothing works better than fear, trust me.” He casually said as he walked towards you to take the ties of your apron in his hands. You tensed as he did but let him play with the white fabric. "And if that bothered you so much you should have said something." You looked down in shame once more, hating yourself for your selfishness and your fear, while Aemond unknotted your serving uniform sensually, foolishly believing you could desire him right now. “Can’t you understand I’ve done this for us?” He whispered before placing a kiss on your temple.
“Have you? Or have you done it to save your reputation?”
“Why should it matter?" He replied as he stroked your belly and caressed your neck with his warm lips. "Either way I’ve still saved your pretty neck.”
You hissed and brutally escaped his embrace, finding him suddenly repulsive and gross. You glared at him and he stared back at you with an expression of utter shock and disbelief. You wanted to say something, something meaningful that would move him but there was nothing you could say, nothing he would understand. He was a prince of the seven kingdoms and you were simply a serving girl, someone ... no, something that did not matter to the eyes of noble rich men like him. You had no power over him. You were nothing but a toy to him and you should have never believed otherwise.
So you walked away in silence.
“Where are you going?” Aemond shouted.
“Back to my poor meaningless serving girl life.”
“YN! Come back here! Your prince commands you!”
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#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#Aemond Targaryen fanfic#the midnight relief#house of the dragon
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I personally can’t wait for all the hurt/comfort fic that 0.3 seconds of sad/naked!Aemond will inspire. I’m foaming at the mouth, biting the bars of my enclosure, and prepping my “like” and “reblog” thumb I know creators are gonna CREATE with that shit
Also I’m the same anon who said they’re excited about the trailer because it shows changing Aemond and can I just double down on that because there is NO WAY you could convince me that the s1 “Tis I the younger brother” loser coulda pulled a bad ass witch like Alys. It’s just not happening your honor he’s too much of a nerd. “Tis I who studies the history and philosophy” ok Michael Gavey headass how’re those cargo shorts treating you? Bet they’re less suffocating than the leather.
I am trying to go to bed. Stop making me laugh!
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'til queendom come, ch. 9
[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]
aemond targaryen x targaryen oc
wordcount: 15,310
ch. 9, dohaerās: all men must die. all men must serve.
warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+, rough sex, choking, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse (including against minors), spoilers for HoTD/F&B
a/n: all kudos, comments, bookmarks, reblogs, etc. are very much appreciated and adored! I'm having a lot of mixed feelings about this chapter and about being so close to the end, so I really hope you all enjoy ❤️
In the early hours of the next day, Sena awoke in an unfamiliar bed. The silky sheets below her cheek had a faintly masculine scent, there was white blonde hair splayed on the pillow and there was a wiry arm wrapped around her belly. A tall, lean, naked man was pressed to her back, from shoulder to hip to knee and she was gloriously warm. She leaned back into Aemond’s embrace, sighing happily and laying her arm over the one he had wrapped around her middle. There was a sleepy, gruff sound behind her and she smiled, but when she shifted, she felt something-
Yes. Aemond was sleepily pressing his half-hard cock against the split of her arse. “Good morning, my Prince,” she breathed out a small laugh, and he stirred behind her, still clearly half asleep.
“Mm?” He murmured, shifting up onto an elbow and rubbing at his bare face with a hand. Was this how beautiful he was when he woke? Foggy, a little grumpy, his hair a mess? His eyelids droopily concealed his pretty eyes, one purple, one blue.
She grinned, looking over her shoulder at him and moved her hips a little. “Don’t stop, you seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”
He gave her a puzzled look, then pulled up the sheet to look. “Fuck,” he groaned, his cheeks colouring as he laid down behind her, flat on his back. “Sorry,” he grumbled, shutting his eyes in concentration as if he was trying to banish his morning glory.
“Don’t say sorry,” she said in disbelief as she rolled over to face him. “I think that was the best wakeup call I have ever had.”
He peeked open his lavender eye and smiled at her sleepily. He looked so sweet and carefree like this that it made her heart ache. “Yeah?” He asked, clearly more than a little pleased at her open desire.
“Yes,” Sena repeated. She brushed a few tangled strands from his cheek and leaned down to kiss him softly. A small sound came from his throat and he came up onto his side to reel her in, deepening the kiss. Only when she could feel his heart thrumming against her did she break away, despite the way he chased her lips with his own. “You know, you worked quite hard last night. Maybe you deserve a lazy morning?” She asked, pushing at his shoulder to get him down onto his back and slipping one knee over his slim waist.
“Gods,” he cursed as she sat up on him, the bedsheet falling to pool around her hips. She saw his eye roving her body, saw the way her nipples hardened in the distinct chill of the room and she surreptitiously used her upper arms to push her breasts together some. “Are you sure you were a maiden ’til last night? You behave as though you were trained in a Lysene pillow house.”
She laughed and canted her hips back, his hardening cock nudging open her folds and spreading her wetness. “Just enjoying the freedom to take what I have wanted for many years, my Prince. And I am inexperienced but what I lack for in skill I can make up for in enthusiasm. You’ll just have to let me practice on you.” She gave her hips an experimental roll and it felt so lovely she gasped aloud.
“Mhm- how could I ever say no to that?” He said with a groan and reached up to pinch a nipple sharply between his thumb and forefinger, making her whine. “I expect you to practice on me until you achieve perfection, my Lady-”
All of a sudden, there was a sharp knock at the door and Sena jumped. Aemond pulled her sharply down onto the bed and threw the sheet up over her, blocking her from view with his own body. “Hope you’re decent-“ came a female voice.
“Alys,” Aemond barked at the woman who had just burst into the room.
“Oh, not decent at all, it seems. Hello, Lady Visenya,” she said and laughed a high pitched laugh. Aemond was rapidly softening against Sena’s thigh and pushed himself off of her with a growl, reaching for his eyepatch on the bedside table. “I’ll have the Maester bring moon tea then, yes? And maybe something for the… love bites,” Alys said with a smirk, eyeing Sena’s neck.
“Who do you think you are? Waltzing into my rooms like you own the place?” He snapped.
Sena sat up in bed, holding the sheet to her body, and kneaded her brow with more exasperation than embarrassment. They certainly had an odd dynamic, these two. Alys smirked at her and winked. “I don’t know, I thought I was a Lady of House Targaryen last night. It’s a comfy bed you’ve given her, I slept like a babe. Much nicer than my own. Very transparent favouritism.”
Aemond made a frustrated grunt and grabbed a pair of breeches from the floor, pulling them up over his hips. He got out from under the covers and went to snatch his morning letters from Alys. Sena was disappointed to only get a brief glance of his lithe body and pert arse before it was covered again. She made a small huffing sound and threw herself back down in bed.
Aemond shot her an exasperated look. “Don’t you mutiny at me too. You two make for a dangerous combination.”
“Someone’s got to pull at your pigtails and keep you humble, oh noble Prince Regent,” Alys said, and Sena chuckled even as Aemond glowered. She could not bring herself to be annoyed at the older woman. She was the only reason Sena was lying in this bed in the first place.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Sena said, and noted the way Alys kept glancing at the swell of her breasts, the pebbling of her nipples under the thin sheet in the cool air. A blush coloured Sena’s cheeks but she did her best not to preen at the attention, that would be unbecoming. “But is there a reason you’re here? Or were you just being nosy?”
Alys laughed darkly. “Nothing to be nosy about, my lady. You two were making enough racket that half the keep knows. Awfully echoey, this damnable castle.” Sena flushed deeply at that, and Aemond raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly. “But if you must know, your brother is here, Prince Aemond.”
Alys never looked away from Sena to the Prince, though, and Aemond noticed rather angrily. “Her eyes are further up, Alys,” he snapped at her. “Which brother?”
Alys finally looked away from Sena to roll her eyes at the Prince. “The one you sent a raven for in the middle of the night asking he come at once,” she said impatiently.
A grin broke over Sena’s features at that. “Daeron,” she said. “He’s truly here?”
“He is. All six feet of boyish good looks and charming smiles,” Alys said with a wink, and Aemond looked faintly irritated. She supposed it had been awhile since he’d had two women to gang up on him like this.
Sena pulled the bedsheet with her to get out of bed, holding it around her frame as a makeshift gown. “Well, we must get ready and go greet him then.”
Aemond and Alys’s eyes both caught on her hips, her breasts, the wild tangle of her hair. “My love,” Aemond huffed. “Can you at least wait until Alys has left to get changed-“
“You’ll tell her to do no such thing,” Alys Rivers said with a smirk, and Sena somehow turned a deeper shade of red. She looked around for her borrowed dress, then grimaced when she saw the rended remains of the garment on the floor. Alys followed her gaze and scowled. “Animal,” she said, glaring at the Prince. “I guess I should bring a dress and undergarments up for the Lady then?”
“You can leave them at the door and knock to let me know they’re there, nothing more. I can help her dress,” he said with a scowl.
“Awfully jealous, aren’t we? Is that why you’ve made your colour green?” Alys asked, shooting him a smirk. “Very well, then. I’ll bring clothes and see to it that Prince Daeron is comfortable while he waits.” With a nod to her employer and a wink to Sena, she swept from the room before Aemond could bark any more orders at her.
Sena giggled as the door clicked shut and she came to stand before Aemond. She let go of her grip on sheet so she could trace her fingers over his firm pectorals, his narrow waist, the trail of white hair on his belly. He caught her hands in his and pressed their joined hands to the thrumming space over his heart, his eyes hungrily taking in the strength of her shoulders, the curve of her hips, the softness of her tummy. “You know, she only does that because she knows it will get a reaction from you,” Sena told him softly. “She torments you, like your older brother.”
He cradled her face in his hands. “And like my older brother, if anything about you ever goes beyond jests, she will answer for it.”
“I only entertain her because I like seeing how it riles you,” she said with a small smile, squeezing his hand in hers. “You’re handsome all the time, but you’re so pretty when you’re grumpy. Your nose scrunches up like this,” she said, showing him an exaggerated version of the gesture.
He smirked, tracing her lower lip with his thumb. “Or maybe you’re just hoping I’ll get angry enough to be rough with you, like you prefer.”
She smiled coyly. “Partly that, too.” His smile faltered for a second and she turned her head to kiss his palm in an attempt to soothe him. “What is it, Aemond? Tell me.”
“You don’t…” he sighed, considering his words, “regret last night? It was something of a point of no return, after all. As odious as it may be to consider you worth any less now… I have ruined you for any marriage you may have wished to make, Sena.”
“My maidenhead was mine to give. Freely, as I saw fit,” she murmured into his palm. She reached up to push his eyepatch up a little, revealing his injury again. How she was beginning to despise the patch and every moment of his true face that it took from her. “And there is only one man I would have given it to, same as there is only one man who will ever have my hand in marriage.”
He brought a hand up to cradle hers as she held his cheek, brushed at the lower end of his scar. He bowed his head and kissed her with a sigh.
They broke apart and she watched his eyes carefully, one purple, one blue. “Aemond… forgive me for prying into something you did not tell me yourself, but… how was it for you?” She asked. He looked a little confused. “It’s just, I know… your first experience with a woman was likely not a good one-“
Aemond’s jaw tightened and he laced their fingers together, huffing out a small breath. “They are not even the same thing in my mind, Sena,” he said. “One was something I did because I was told to, to appease Aegon, and because I could not have held off much longer without raising questions. The other was something I did because I wanted to, with someone I adore. I felt none of that fear with you last night. If anything, I felt brave. Finally giving you what you have asked for but I was too scared to give. Finally taking what I wanted, our family be damned.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Good. You know you can talk to me about it though, right?” She asked. “I know I did not raise it in the most sensitive way the first time, and in truth you likely never wanted me to know. But I would never judge, would never be squeamish or embarrassed or offended. I would just listen, listen to anything you wanted to tell me.”
He smiled and kissed her brow. “I do not deserve you.”
She reached up and made him look at her, holding his jaw steady. “Never say such a thing again, please. You deserve love just by your existence and it is the greatest privilege of my life to be one of many to give it to you.” He met her eyes a little uncertainly for a moment, then gave her a little nod, and that was enough.
Once Alys had delivered her clothes with a knock, they hurriedly helped each other dress. Sena secured half of Aemond’s hair up out of his face, then he laced her into her dress, hands lingering on her hips for a scant second. She did her best to tame her wild bed hair with the water from the basin, but eventually gave up. “C’mere,” Aemond murmured, and pulled a black hair ribbon from a box in his dresser.
She stood with her back to him and he gently gathered her curls up into a knot, smoothing them as best he could and securing them with a tight bow. He pressed a kiss to her bare neck and she shivered.
Aemond hummed and grabbed a high-collared doublet from his things. “Best put that on. Don’t know if we need my little brother seeing your neck like that.” He helped her secure the doublet over her dress. It was a welcome extra layer - Harrenhal was so draughty - and it smelled like the rosemary oil he ran through his hair, and the brimstone scent of Vhagar. “I’ll be more careful next time. Mark you somewhere a little less… obvious.”
She smiled and pulled him in by his sword belt. “I don’t want you to be careful with me,” she said and pressed a kiss to his lips. He hummed into her lips. “But yes, I don’t see how it would be advantageous to make our bedroom activities the talk of the court.”
“Stop talking to me about bedroom activities right before we are to go greet my brother, my lady,” he chided, but laced his fingers through hers as he pulled them from the room.
They descended to the great hall. This room had once held the Great Council of 101 AC, somewhat kickstarting all of this mess, Sena thought grimly. In the shadowy corner of the room, she could see Lord Corlys fighting for the rights of his lady wife and their children. In the other, her father, as young as she was now, championing his brother as he would for the rest of King Viserys’s days. The blonde-haired young man in the centre of the room could have been her father from the back, truthfully, but when he spun on his heel at the sound of their approach, it was clear that his face was too kind to ever belong to Prince Daemon.
The grin on Daeron’s face as he took them in, approaching hand-in-hand, made Sena’s heart skip a beat. He was so grown, seven-and-ten now, dressed in battle-proven armour, standing nearly as tall as his brother. His was a soft and sweet beauty - more like Helaena than Aemond’s angular, striking features - and he approached his elder brother with a grin, pulling him into his strong arms with an oof from the Prince Regent. “Aemond,” Daeron sighed.
Aemond looked stiff for a second, then seemed to soften in Daeron’s embrace, clapping him on the back. “Daeron.” He was smiling.
Daeron pulled back and turned to Sena, reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“Come here,” she said with a smile and held her arms wide. Daeron stepped into her embrace gratefully and smacked a kiss on both of her cheeks.
“My fierce and beautiful cousin,” he said. “It’s been far too many years. I see you’re a woman, now.”
Sena blushed a little at that, still feeling the ache in her hips with every step she took, but knew he could not possibly mean it in the way it sounded. Over Daeron’s shoulder, she watched Aemond smirk, looking a little proud of himself but averting his gaze so as not to catch her ire. “And you’re a man grown,” she said to Daeron, pulling back and brushing a lock of silver-blonde hair behind his ear. “What have they been feeding you in Oldtown? Stop growing!”
He laughed and Aemond smiled at them, taking in the sight of his brother and his lover embracing each other with a soft look in his eye. It seemed he was as relieved as she was, that they’d finally found a way to end all of this. “You don’t seem surprised to see the Lady Visenya out of her cell and at my side, brother,” he said with a lilting smirk.
Daeron returned the smirk and gave his elder brother a knowing look. “I knew that even you would see past your anger and eventually come to your senses, Aemond,” he said. He turned back to Sena. “I can only apologise for him, cousin. It seems Helaena and I did not leave many redeeming qualities for our brothers to fight over when we were born.”
“I have forgiven him,” Sena said, then tilted her head, considering, “for the most part, anyway.” Daeron laughed at that and Aemond raised an eyebrow. Sena linked one arm through each of the brothers’s and pulled both men over to the high table, where Alys had left water and food. If Daeron had ridden through the night, he must be famished. “Enough about us, though. Tell me about you! How have you been?”
Daeron went to pull out her chair for her, but Aemond batted his hands away and did it for her instead. Sena shook her head and smiled at her lover. “I have been well, Sena. Very well. Honestly, I think growing up away from the Red Keep has been my saving grace. The Gods only know what I would have turned out like if I had been raised in the grim plotting and intrigue of my father’s court.” She pushed the plate of food before him and smiled as he started to pick at it ravenously.
Aemond raised an eyebrow at Daeron from her other side. “Probably more like me,” he said darkly.
Sena reached out to take him by the hand and Daeron shook his head. “And how lucky I would have been, if that were the case. You have grown into a good man despite your childhood, brother. You are a triumph. Never forget it, no matter how much we tease you. We only do it to keep you humble.”
A light pink blush rose in Aemond’s cheeks, wonderfully endearing, and he avoided both their loving gazes as he sipped at his water. Sena turned the conversation back to Daeron in an attempt to lift some of the unwanted attention off of Aemond. “Well, what else do you have to tell me of your exploits? A dashing man like you, you must have every maiden in Oldtown throwing themselves in your path.” Aemond sputtered on his water and Daeron dipped his head, smiling. Sena looked at the two brothers, suddenly aware she was missing something. “What?”
“Sorry, love,” Aemond said, clearing his throat and giving her thigh a squeeze. “You have missed a lot, being away on Dragonstone all those years.” She gave him an imploring look and he tilted his head, smiling at her. “No doubt Daeron has every maiden in Oldtown swooning over him but my little brother prefers the company of dashing squires to blushing maidens.”
Sena raised her eyebrows, turning on Daeron, who was blushing a little. “I- why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, rounding on Aemond and landing a light slap on his upper arm.
Her lover chuckled. “Really, Sena, I did not mean to omit it, I’ve just… had a lot on my mind these last few years.”
She guessed she could understand that. She turned back to Daeron who was still avoiding her eye. Bless his soul, he was nervous to see her reaction. “It’s the training yard, isn’t it?” She asked with a coy grin, hoping to set him at ease. “Seeing them all hot and bothered in their leathers, swinging their big swords-“
Relieved, Daeron was laughing and Aemond let out an undignified sound. “And who have you been looking at, hot and bothered?” He demanded, nostrils flaring with irritation.
Sena and Daeron fell on each other, laughing at the elder brother’s obliviousness. “Stop. Stop right now,” Daeron choked out. “I really don’t need to hear a recount of you ogling my own brother in his training leathers, Sena.” That caused Aemond to turn red, and the other two only laughed harder.
“Honestly,” Sena said, clutching at her stomach. “I can’t believe no one told me! Last to know everything, as per usual. Does your mother know?”
Daeron grimaced. “Yes, but she pretends she does not,” he said. That explained his nervousness at her reaction, then. “But don’t let it put you off making whatever deal for me you can. I’ll marry whoever you need me to, if it will end the bloodshed and bring some peace to our family.”
So Aemond had told him, then, why they were here? Or he had guessed as much. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hands. Come to think of it, there was a Baratheon maid who would soon need appeasing. “We will do whatever we can, though. To avoid that.”
Daeron shrugged. “Love matches are rare in our walk of life,” he reminded her. “Don’t forget it, just because you two have been stupidly lucky. Besides, if I could wed a woman like you or my sister, I would be the luckiest man alive to call her my friend and wife.”
Sena smiled at him. “You’re a flatterer,” she said.
He shrugged and grinned. “Enough about me. I’m guessing I’m here because you two have hatched some plan to save all our mortal souls?”
It was an easy enough plan to explain to him and Daeron liked it. Especially the part about her landing Vermithor in the Eyrie and demanding fealty. He smirked at that. “And if this works and we can get our sister to the negotiations, what then?”
Sena looked at Aemond and Aemond looked back at her. “We haven’t exactly decided on that part,” she said with a wince. She had been thinking about this too, during all those days staring out of windows during captivity. “I think Aegon is the only option for the throne.” Aemond and Daeron threw her horrified looks and she quickly corrected herself. “My brother, not yours. I think we need to betroth him to Jaehaera, unite Rhaenyra and Aegon the Elder’s claims.”
The expression on Daeron’s face softened a little at that, but he still looked uneasy. “He’s a little boy, Sena. Do we really need a regency right now?” Aemond looked equally uneasy at the prospect.
Sena held up her hands. “We have no other options,” she said. “Your family will not accept Rhaenyra or even Joffrey on the throne, and my family will never bow to Aegon, wherever he is right now. Anyone else is too far down the order of succession. Neither of you two can be Kings, you have no impartiality in this war, Rhaenyra would never bow to you.”
Daeron raised an eyebrow. “Not to be a pig, but following previous precedents of men succeeding before women, Aemond is Aegon’s heir, not Jaehaera.”
Sena glowered at Daeron, who held his hands up in resignation. Aemond smirked at his brother’s quick surrender. He turned his eye on Sena. “We are all willing to make sacrifices to end this, my lady. You are forsaking your family by even discussing this. Daeron has consented to marrying whom he must. It only seems right that I lay aside my claim to the throne, for the greater good of the family.”
Sena reached across the gap between them and took his hand in her’s, twining their fingers together. “And we will find a way to repay you,” she said.
He smiled and shook his head softly. “I will consider the debt repaid in full when you become my wife.”
Sena’s heart leapt in her chest and she could not help herself, reaching across the distance between them and pulling him in for a kiss. Aemond melted into her, dragging his fingers along her jaw and sighed happily.
“So we’re trying to make my breakfast reappear, are we?” Daeron questioned behind them.
Aemond growled a sharp “Fuck off,” at his brother, earning him a burst of laughter, and pulled Sena back in for another kiss.
-----
On her own, Sena took in the sight of the Vale from far above. Her birthplace, the place she had spent her early years. It hurt her to think she had such little true memory of it, next to no connection to her mother. The first place she remembered being happy, the first place she remembered feeling loved was King’s Landing.
Vermithor had not been too happy to see her, when she arrived at the shores of the God’s Eye with Aemond. But he had been cowed by Vhagar, on his best behaviour, and Aemond had well warned him. “Ōdrikagon zirȳla rȳ aōha zūgagon,” he had told the great bronze beast, resting a hand on his maw. Hurt her at your peril. Vhagar rumbled low in her chest to second the warning.
Aemond had kissed Sena sweetly. “You look beautiful,” he said, “like a Conqueror.”
She smiled. He had returned her armour and sword to her, but before they had left, she had made a small request of Harrenhal’s blacksmith. The crimson dragon of her house had been scraped from the inky dark breastplate and replaced with an inlay of the same three-headed dragon, this time wrought in bronze. She would have to thank Aegon for naming her so when they finally found him. It was fitting, she thought, her father’s sigil wrought in her mother’s colours, but still uniquely hers. “Thank you, my love,” she said. “I just hope Lady Jeyne thinks so, as well.”
He grimaced. “I would feel better about this if I was coming with you.”
She kissed him again. For the sake of thoroughness. “The Arryns are no friends of yours. Besides, you need to marshal your armies, head for King’s Landing with Daeron and Ser Criston.”
He gripped her by the elbows, pulling her close. “Meet me there, please.”
She nodded. “With a fleet.”
“I don’t care if you bring Nymeria’s fleet of ten thousand ships or a fishing boat, just… be there,” he said. Kissed her once more for good measure.
Now, she circled low over the Eyrie. With Joffrey brought south to King’s Landing as the new Prince of Dragonstone, the Eyrie was not defended by dragons save for Rhaena’s hatchling, Morning. So despite the distant shouting and scurrying of soldiers below, there was no resistance when Vermithor landed on the castle walls that boxed in the courtyard. Sena descended from dragonback with what grace she could muster. “Kirimvose, raqiros,” she said, laying one hand on Vermithor’s vast neck. Thank you, friend. His resulting whicker was not entirely contemptuous. She would take it as progress.
The lords and ladies of Lady Jeyne’s court were rushing into the courtyard as she descended from the wall, pulling her dragonhide gloves from her hands with her teeth. Aemond had knotted one of his own hair ribbons into her hair, holding half of it up from her face, and she wished he was here, but she steeled herself and turned to face the belligerent courtiers. “My lords and ladies,” she greeted, projecting her voice loud and clear. Like Queen Alicent would, like Queen Rhaenyra would, like Princess Rhaenys would. She scanned the assembling crowd for familiar heraldry. Corbray, Redfort, Baelish… Royce. She met eyes with the man who must be some relation of hers and inclined her head.
“What is the meaning of this?” A woman asked sharply, rushing through the crowd who quickly split for her. “Make yourself known, dragonrider. Now.”
Sena inclined her head, taking in the soaring falcon sigil on the shields of the guards who rushed behind her. “Lady Arryn, it is an honour for you to host me.”
“You were not invited,” the woman hissed. “I won’t ask again. Make yourself known, girl.”
“I-“ Sena opened her mouth.
“Sena?”
Sena’s head whipped towards the left entrance to the courtyard and her breath caught in her throat. “Rhaena.”
They stood, staring at each other for a second. Rhaena looked so beautiful, grown and womanly in her gown, with her hair combed out and loose, a beautiful white halo. Then, Rhaena could take it no longer, and rushed forward into her arms.
Sena caught her with an oof, suddenly glad she was wearing steel plate armour, and pulled her baby sister close. “Oh Rhaena,” she said, and pressed a kiss to her head.
Rhaena pulled back, holding her by the arms. “Look at you! My warrior sister,” she said, taking in her armour. “How? How are you here?”
Lady Jeyne Arryn cleared her throat behind them, and Sena turned to see most of the court staring at her. Rhaena kept a firm grip of her hand. “Prince Daemon’s other daughter, then, I take it?”
Sena bowed at her waist. Curtseys did not look so good without skirts, she had learned. “Visenya of House Targaryen, my lady. Daughter of Prince Daemon… and Lady Rhea Royce.”
There was a slight intake of breath around her and Lady Jeyne’s countenance paled. Yes, that one, Sena thought grimly. The one you disinherited.
Lady Jeyne drew a steadying breath. “I would invite you to take audience in my hall, but I do not think your friend would fit,” she eyed Vermithor warily. “Forgive the harshness of my words. House Arryn does not have a good history of dragonriders descending from the sky upon us. Especially not women named Visenya.”
Sena repressed a small smile. “Forgive me, my lady. I would normally never assume to turn up unannounced, but it was urgent.”
Lady Jeyne nodded. “These are dark times indeed,” she said. “If it is urgent, have at it. But know that House Arryn is unfaltering in its commitment to our rightful queen, and we extend our deepest sympathies at the loss of Prince Jacaerys.”
Sena gave her a grateful nod but drew a bracing breath nevertheless. “Truthfully, I am not here on Queen Rhaenyra’s business, my lady. But rather… business of the realm.”
“Have out with it, my lady. We will hear what you have to say.”
Sena gritted her teeth. “We- members of my House and I… have grown tired of this war. We mean to sue for peace.”
There was a wave of titters around her, and Rhaena gripped her hand tighter. “You mean to disobey your queen?” Lady Jeyne asked, shocked.
“I mean to negotiate with my queen,” Sena corrected. “As we speak, the armies of Aegon II are approaching King’s Landing to lay siege. The plan is to sue for peace. No more bloodshed, no more hunger, no more tyranny.”
Lady Jeyne raised her eyebrows. “So it is the Usurper you have jumped into bed with, my lady?”
Sena winced. This was not going how she had imagined it in her head. She turned to her sister. “Rhaena,” she said. “Help me. Aemond, Daeron and I… we are trying to put an end to this. We have a plan. No one else has to die, sister. Not Baela or Joffrey or Aegon. No more orphans, no more widows.”
Rhaena searched her eyes with her own identical violet ones, looking conflicted. “Sena,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “This is treason, turning against the Queen. You are talking of treason.”
“Not against,” Sena insisted, squeezing her hand. “I am not turning against anyone. This war has been black and green, Rhaenyra and Aegon - what if it doesn’t have to be that way? What if there is a third way-“
“You may have chosen the incorrect audience, my lady,” Lady Jeyne broke in. “The Vale of Arryn remains relatively untouched by war. We are happy to keep supporting the Queen from a distance.”
Sena bit her lip, and turned to the assembled lords and ladies. “Lord Waxley’s lands are not,” she said loudly, fixing eye contact with a man whose doublet was emblazoned with candles burning on a grey field. “We lost a dragon at Rook’s Rest, my lord. I hear King Aegon’s Sunfyre still prowls the fields, flightless. I bet you could see it happen from the top of your tower.” She turned her head again. “Lord Grafton! How does Gulltown fair, with the Narrow Sea beset on all sides by war galleys, pirates, the Triarchy? Is food and wine still flowing as freely as before? Has it started to empty your pockets? Even you, Lady Arryn. My sister’s dragon is, what, the size of a cat at this point? Today, it was a friend who descended from the sky upon you. Tomorrow, it might not be. I know my father for one does not have kind things to say of you-“
“All the more reason not to anger him, my lady.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “My father is a tyrant. He will find cause to be angry, whether you give it to him or not. He humiliated my lady mother, dragged House Royce’s name through the dirt, insulted your authority and now you bow down to him and avoid angering him? Whatever happened to as high as honour?”
Lady Jeyne turned a bright shade of red at that, and Rhaena gripped her hand, and Sena knew she had her. “Interesting for the daughter of a slain woman and her murderer to talk of honour,” she bit out, and the lords and ladies around her drew breath.
Sena clenched her jaw. She had always known it. Deep down. “My honour does not come from my name or the people who brought me into this world, my lady. My honour comes from my love - for this land, for its people, for my family. My honour comes from what I am willing to give up to ensure the safety of the people I care about and the people I am responsible for protecting.”
“You and I both, Lady Visenya. The honour of House Arryn is not just words, it is action,” Lady Jeyne bit out.
Sena nodded. “You recall, don’t you? What I had taken from me? When Lady Rhea died, I lost a mother, yes. But I also lost the lands and title I was born to. I lost Runestone. And now I ride the second-largest living dragon in the world and I have everything I could need to take it back. Armies, allies, you name it.”
Rhaena was staring at her, wide eyed. “For a negotiation, this is sounding suspiciously like a threat, my lady,” Lady Jeyne snapped.
“’Tis not a threat, but a bargain,” Sena said. She drew a deep breath, prayed her mother would forgive her. “Join me in ending this cruel war. Join me in bringing about a new era of peace for the Seven Kingdoms and I will relinquish all claim to my birthright. You need never see me or hear from me again if you do not wish it.”
“Sena,” Rhaena gasped, but Sena’s mind was made up. They must all make sacrifices. This was hers.
Lady Jeyne looked to one of the lords. “What say you, Lord Allard?”
The man she looked to was older than Sena, with a gruff beard and the chain that fastened his cloak was bronze and runic. Sena inclined her head to him. “Cousin,” she said.
Lord Allard studied her, and she could tell from his darting brown eyes that he was shrewd. That gave her hope. “Cousin,” he said, and nodded. He turned back to Lady Jeyne. “It is true, my Lady. Runestone is already starting to feel the strain of the war. And Lady Visenya’s standing claim to my seat remains a substantial concern to me. I would not be doing right by my house if I did not consider her proposal. So long as- so long as her surrender of her claim to Runestone extends to all children of her body. No child bearing the name Targaryen or her Lord husband’s name shall ever lay claim to Runestone again.”
That pinched at something deep in Sena. Signing away the rights of children she did not even have yet. She fixed her unknown cousin with a hard look. Lady Jeyne was waiting for her. It was now or never.
In the end, it was not truly a choice. The only man who would ever father children on her would be Aemond, and that was not even a possibility without this deal.
“Okay,” she breathed.
“Sena,” Rhaena gasped. “Are you sure about this? Your mother’s seat? Your childhood home?”
Sena turned to Rhaena and brushed her hair from her face. “My childhood homes are King’s Landing and Dragonstone, sweet. And I doubt I will live long enough to see either again if I let this continue. Team Dragonstone, remember?”
Rhaena’s eyes were brimming with tears, no doubt thinking of Jace and Luke. She nodded shakily. “Team Dragonstone.”
Sena turned back to Lady Jeyne and Lord Allard, her heart in her throat. “In return for your fleet and your support, I forsake my claim to Runestone and the claim of all children of my body. Let the lords and ladies of the Vale and the honour of House Arryn play witness to the agreement.”
Lady Jeyne looked to Lord Allard, then back to Sena, and nodded stiffly. “I believe we have a deal.”
-----
The siege of King’s Landing was long and arduous. Sena took every moment that the city did not go up in flames or dragons did not fall on them from the sky as a victory.
She escorted the Arryn blockade to Blackwater Bay from dragonback, then descended on the field outside the city gates where Aemond’s armies were amassed, blocking every route in and out of the city. Vermithor circled once, twice, then set her down next to a vibrant blue dragon who bore the name Tessarion.
No sooner was she down from Vermithor’s back than Daeron was pulling her into a crushing hug. “Look at that! Look at all those ships! Bloody genius. Gods, if Aemond gets cold feet, I will wed you, Sena!”
Sena laughed raucously and beat on his chest until he set her down. “Show some respect! You are manhandling the Bronze Dragon, I’ll have you know!”
Daeron grinned. “Not Lady of Runestone?” He asked in a softer tone.
She shook her head gently. “We all must make sacrifices, sweet boy.”
He nodded grimly and bent to kiss her cheek. “It will be worth it, Sena. Once we’re all sat around one long table and bickering about… jousting versus melee, or whatever it is proper families bicker about.”
She grinned. “We can learn together, Daeron.”
He nodded, then his eyes flicked over her shoulder. “Might want to turn around before he tackles you, dear cousin.”
“What?” Sena said, spinning around.
Aemond was some feet away, looking at her with a soft, disbelieving look. Handsome in his armour and eyepatch. “You did it.”
Sena gave him a soft, teasing smile. “You doubted me?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I just… live in awe of you. Every day.”
She blushed violently. “Come here, fool,” she said, reaching out to him.
He met her halfway and pulled her flush against him. “Issa jorrāelagon.” My love.
“Ñuha prūmia,” she murmured into his neck. My heart.
Aemond, Daeron and Ser Criston had closed off all entry points to the capital before she had arrived, by the time the Arryn fleet had been assembled. Their best reports said that the capital was already struggling before they arrived, but the blockaded roads and besieging army had applied pressure. Queen Alicent had enlisted her friends in the faith, and there was a preacher by the name of the Shepherd calling for Rhaenyra’s overthrowing on every street corner where he would be heard, drawing large flocks of the faithful. The Arryn fleet was like a boot on the neck, sealing the capital off from Velaryon relief. King’s Landing began to choke. Sena tried to hold the guilt of it at bay. So much suffering for no good reason, it made her sick.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Aemond caught her one day after many weeks of sitting and waiting, staring up at the besieged city’s walls while she tended to Vermithor. Inside those walls were Queen Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, Prince Joffrey. Helaena, Alicent, Rhaenys. Addam Velaryon and his brother Alyn and the Nettles girl. All her blood, at some point or another. Not to mention the suffering of the smallfolk. As soon as the city was breached, she would seek out this Marigold woman, make sure she was safe-
“We are leading armies, Aemond,” she said and gave him a forced smile. “I reckon some thinking is probably in order.”
He gave her a considering shrug, leaning against Vermithor’s haunches like he belonged there. He had a way with dragons. She had never seen one of them snap at him. “There’s thinking and there’s overthinking. One is required, the other is pointlessly exhausting. Maybe… I could distract you, my love?”
She shook her head, laughing. “Incorrigible!” She exclaimed. “I’m still sore from this morning, Aemond.” He had awoken her on his camp bed with his tongue inside of her, plundering between her legs. She had moaned his name as he had fucked her slow and sweet, then spilling his seed on her stomach. They should probably be more mindful of their reputations, should probably not be seen coming and going from each other’s tents at all hours. But they were in this together now, this ultimate betrayal, and what was the saying the smallfolk used? In for a copper, in for a dragon?
“This is a siege, Sena. There’s little else to do but… fool around, let you practice your skills on me,” he said with a wry smirk.
She shook her head at him, affronted. “I’ll practice my swordplay skills on you if you’re not careful, my Prince,” she said with a smirk.
He grinned and went to pull her into his arms, ready to say something when-
“My Prince! My Lady!” It was Jarrad. Aemond had made sure the enlisted man was Sena’s personal guard when she arrived back from the Vale.
Sena turned in the Prince’s arms to the tall man. “Yes, Jarrad?”
Jarrad looked frankly alarmed and red in the face, like he had been running in full plate armour. “There’s word! From the Red Keep! A request for parlay, m’lady!”
“Shit,” she swore, and she and Aemond jumped to attention, following after Jarrad swiftly, back to her pavilion.
It was a letter, not unlike the one Aegon had sent her many moons ago at Rook’s Rest, but this time in her father’s distinctive jagged hand. It made Sena’s throat close.
Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men and Prince Consort Daemon Targaryen, Protector of the Realm request the presence of Prince Aemond Targaryen and Lady Visenya Targaryen at parley. The Queen and her consort request the meeting is held on neutral ground. If this is amenable, a date, time and place should be proposed, and the Queen and Prince shall follow on dragonback to the parley.
Sena sucked in a long breath of air through her teeth. This was it. They were finally getting Rhaenyra to the table. She exchanged a look with Aemond - he looked as apprehensive as she felt - and penned her affirmative reply.
Daeron and Ser Criston were not happy when they told them. “Why just the two of you? It stinks,” Daeron said with a grimace.
“I do not think they would meet us and you and Ser Criston,” Sena said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her crooked nose. The fire in the pavilion was burning low.
Aemond rested a hand on Daeron’s shoulder. “Do not worry, brother. Caraxes and Syrax are no match for Vhagar and Vermithor.”
Daeron frowned. “I’m not worried about our odds, brother. I’m worried about one or both of you getting hurt or being killed.”
“I second that,” Ser Criston said, giving Prince Aemond a hard look. “Your mother would not sanction this meeting.”
Aemond clenched his jaw. “My mother is not here, Ser. That is what I am trying to fix.”
“Every moment we spend bickering about this is another moment where innocent men, women and children in Fleabottom are going hungry because of us,” Sena said with steel in her voice. “Another moment where Queen Alicent is in chains and Helaena is alone and Aegon is in hiding.”
Aemond looked to her then turned back to his brother and his mentor. “When we chose this course of action, we made a commitment. A commitment to this realm, to her people, to our family. We end this or we die trying. If anything should happen to me… or the Lady Visenya,” he said through gritted teeth, “I expect you to uphold that. I am not asking, Sers.”
Daeron and Ser Criston exchanged a hard look, but finally conceded.
-----
The Isle of Faces was a strange place. At the heart of the God’s Eye, it was an eerie, magical isle, the last place south of the Neck where weirwoods grew. The ghostly trees of the First Men’s faith watched Sena with their weeping eyes as she passed and the clink of her plate mail was the only sound for miles, it seemed. She laid her hand on one of the trunks, holding the gaze of a face twisted in horror. Something as old and unnameable as the life-force in the dragons flowed beneath her hand.
“I do not like this place,” Aemond’s voice came behind her, a hint of reluctance in his tone.
“No,” she breathed. “We do not belong. It is of the old world. A time before us, before our name. And it will long outlive us.”
She turned back and saw him standing still on the shore, his hands on Vhagar’s maw. He lingered by their dragons while she walked in the weirwood trees. The crown of the Conqueror was heavy on his brow. He held a tension in his jaw and Sena’s teeth ached in sympathy for his. “You have the blood of the First Men,” he pointed out.
She raised an eyebrow. It was true, and her dark hair and long face were evidence of it. “You have the blood of the Hightower but you still get seasick.”
That made him smirk, at least. “And you’ll never let me forget it.”
She smiled. “Come,” she said, reaching out a hand to him. “Caraxes and Syrax descended at the other side of the island. I think we’re supposed to meet them in the middle.”
Aemond raised an eyebrow and finally stepped away from his dragon, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. “Symbolic,” he said with a wry smirk.
She shook her head and looked back at Vermithor, who was curled on his haunches down the shore from Vhagar. “If this comes to a fight…” she said with a sigh, “I do not fancy my chances on him against my father.”
Aemond turned with her to look back at the great bronze beast. “Dragons as old and grand as ours respect strength, Sena. Power, boldness. You hold all those qualities. You must only show him that. He likes you more than you think he does, anyway.”
She gave him a questioning look. “Does he?”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Aemond said. “He will never love you and obey you like he would have if you had raised him from a hatchling, or if you were first to claim him. But that is the price we pay for being their riders. If you wish to ride one of the largest, most ferocious beasts in the known world, you must accept that you will never master them, not truly.”
She nodded. Drew a deep breath. “Are you ready?” She asked.
He sighed and looked deep into the forest, his eye darting this way and that. “No. But we are here now.”
There was a carpet of leaves underfoot that made their footfall impossibly quiet as they walked on into the forest. It was an eerie place. The canopy overhead was full of blood-red, mottled brown, vibrant green. The air was so still she felt she disturbed it just by moving. There was no sign of life, no chittering creatures or birdsong. No sign of any living thing ever having been here until they stumbled across stones that looked too arranged to be natural.
Large, crumbled stones in a clearing that might have once held up a ceiling or a monument. An impossibly old and weathered flat rock that could have been a table. Runes twisted around it in the tongue of the First Men, the same runes that emblazoned and protected the armour of her mother’s house.
“This is where the First Men and the children of the forest signed their pact, ending the wars of the Dawn Age,” Aemond said beside her, looking around in wonder. “They carved the faces in the weirwood trees, so the Gods might bear witness.”
Sena watched him, the spark in his eye, the small smile on his lips. “We can come back another time, in peace time. So you might take it in properly.”
He shook his head. “No one approaches this isle without the will of the Gods, Sena. We will not be allowed back.”
She drew a breath and met the eye of a weeping weirwood. “So they are willing us to be here today? The Gods are smiling on us, then.”
“There are no Gods,” came a voice, and Sena and Aemond looked up sharply. “Only us.”
Her father was taller, more imposing than she remembered seeing him last. His armour was weathered and beaten, his hair twisted back from his face in fine braids. To his left was Rhaenyra, the crown of Jaehaerys the Conciliator glimmering on her brow. She looked as though she had not slept in the months since Jacaerys had died. “Father,” Sena breathed, watching Prince Daemon with hard eyes as the Prince and the Queen drew level with them.
“Daughter,” he said, then inclined his head, “nephew.”
“Uncle,” Aemond said. “Sister.”
“You are no blood of mine,” Rhaenyra said coldly. She could not even stand to look at him.
Sena sighed and leaned forward on the carved stone, hands spread wide. “Let us start as we mean to go on,” she said, eyeing Rhaenyra wearily. Aemond was not looking at his sister, though, but at her father. His eye was trained on the small, vertical scar on Prince Daemon’s neck, where Sena had struck him. He did not betray it on his features, but Sena knew Aemond well enough to know he found it amusing.
Prince Daemon arched one brow. “And how would that be?”
“With respect,” Sena said. “And a mind for peace.”
Daemon scoffed. “How peaceful is a siege? How peaceful is descending upon the Eyrie with a stolen dragon?”
She glared at him. “Vermithor serves me,” she bit out, “and you lost my loyalty the day you murdered Jaehaerys.”
Daemon was eyeing her with amusement, his arms held behind his back. Dark Sister glinted on his hip, the ruby on the cross-guard flashing at Sena. “Yet you turn cloak to the man who murdered your own stepbrother.”
Rhaenyra stiffened and Aemond watched them both steadily, betraying no emotion.
“I’m on no side, father. If I have chosen anything or anyone, it is our House, our family,” Sena said stiffly. She turned her gaze to Rhaenyra. “Surely you can see that, cousin? After we have all lost so much, all we want is for this to end.”
Rhaenyra glared at her and it sent a chill through Sena. “It will end as soon as the traitors bend the knee and accept me as their rightful queen.”
To Aemond’s credit, he bit his tongue.
“You know that is not possible, Rhaenyra,” Sena said. She was so tense her jaw was aching, her shoulders were bunched up. “They will not lay down their lives at your mercy anymore than you would lay down yours or Joffrey’s or Aegon’s at theirs.”
“It is not supposed to be a choice,” Rhaenyra said, “whether you pay homage to the ruler you are sworn to.”
Aemond shook his head. “I never swore to you, sister,” he said, calm and collected. “Nor will I allow you to place our family’s crown on the head of a bastard.”
“Get their names out of your mouth,” Rhaenyra spat. “Murderer.”
Aemond said nothing, just turned his eye on Prince Daemon. Sena’s father held his eye with interest.
“However we feel about each other, we are at an impasse,” Sena said. “Neither side will kneel to the other. Right now, the largest standing army in Westeros lays siege to King’s Landing. Blackwater Bay is cut off to you by the Arryn fleet and our dragons rival yours equally if we were to meet in the air. The people are starving and beginning to riot, I would wager. And we do not have the stamina or the will to keep fighting this war. If our forces meet now on the field, it will be a bloodbath,” Sena said, eyeing both her father and her stepmother. “More of our children, brothers, sisters will die. More of our dragons. Maybe all of them. And our House, already considerably slimmed at this point, dwindles to nothing and falls. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but know that every day this drags on, we are penning our own downfall.”
Rhaenyra met her gaze with cold, lilac eyes. She did not speak, did not move.
“There is an answer that leaves everyone happy, though. So we may end this with what humanity we have left,” Sena said.
Daemon barked a laugh. “Oh, do tell, clever girl. What plot have you two hatched in bed together that you think is so cunning?”
Sena did not look at her father, just held Rhaenyra’s gaze. “Lay your crown on your son Aegon’s head, Rhaenyra,” she said. “Wed him to Jaehaera. Unite your claim and your brother’s.”
Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes. “I will not wed my child to my brother’s spawn-“
“Do not think of her as Aegon’s, then. Think of her as Helaena’s. Think of this as the way you will leave your little sister with one living child. I am begging you,” Sena said. Her hands trembled on the runes carved on the table. Her gut was twisting as Rhaenyra watched her with an impenetrable gaze.
Rhaenyra avoided that altogether, shaking her head. “Joffrey is my heir, my eldest living child-“
“He is also the last heir to Driftmark,” Sena interrupted. She had spent long hours thinking about this, how she could save the sweet boy, Jace and Luke’s brother from the stain of bastardy. “Unless you wish that seat to be passed to Ser Laenor’s bastards, or whoever Addam and Alyn of Hull are. And Baela and Rhaena will suffer the same humiliation we have in the process, you and I and Princess Rhaenys. Watching themselves get passed over for the first person with a speck of the right blood and a cock in their trousers. Think about it, Rhaenyra. One cannot be Lord of the Tides and ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Make Joffrey Lord of the Tides and make Aegon King.” She was begging Rhaenyra with her eyes to go for it. It was purely saving face, but it could work if they presented a united front on it.
Rhaenyra at last turned her gaze on Aemond. “What do you think of this?” She asked.
Daemon made an affronted sound. “You cannot seriously be considering this, Rhaenyra-“
Rhaenyra raised a hand to silence her husband. Sena bit back a smile. “This plan disinherits you too, brother.”
“We all must make sacrifices,” Aemond looked at his sister, considering carefully. “It makes sense. Unites your side and mine. You will get no complaint from my brother, he never wanted the crown. Whatever you think of him, he only ever did it to keep our heads off the block. And if Daeron and I kneel to your son, my mother will follow suit. Your trueborn son and the daughter of our father’s eldest boy. We won’t do better than that.”
“No, you won’t,” Daemon sneered. “Can’t you see this for what it is, Rhaenyra? They know they are beaten and they are trying desperately to keep their heads.”
“It is us who is laying siege to your seat, father,” Sena ground out. “It is your city that starves, primed to turn on you at a moment’s notice. Your throne sits on pitch-soaked kindling, ready to burn.”
Daemon was glaring at her, grinding his teeth together. Rhaenyra took a deep breath. Collected herself. She looked so weary, even more bowed and bent than Aemond. “Aegon is just a boy. He will need a regent.”
“And we will find him one,” Sena said. “Someone as neutral as we can find, while still being trustworthy and honourable. I was thinking maybe Princess Rhaenys or Lord Cregan Stark, he is said to have a good, sharp head on his shoulders-“
“No. If you make this plan, you will see it through to the end, Sena,” Rhaenyra said sharply. Stiffly, she rose her hands to her head. The golden crown of the Conciliator, emblazoned with the eight coats-of-arms of the Great Houses rose from her brow and rested on the stone before Sena. The runes of Sena’s forebears seemed to glimmer on the ancient rock. “If you are to put my son on the throne, you will protect him with your life. You will keep my brothers and Alicent Hightower true. And you will bear the weight of that crown until Aegon’s coming of age.”
The world seemed to tilt unevenly before her. Fear gripped her insides like ice water.
If Rhaenyra noticed how she blanched, though, she showed no sympathy. “I was younger than you are now when my father made me Princess of Dragonstone,” she said. “I once told you to be a Lady of our House is to be godlike. You shoulder the responsibilities no one else has to, the fears and worries of every soul who kneels to your banners. You place crowns on the brows of your brothers, your husbands, your sons and kiss them as you send them off to war… send them off to die,” there was a slight tremble in her voice and Sena swallowed hard. “You will not put a crown on Aegon’s head unless you are willing to put one on your own, Visenya, and understand what it means.”
Sena met Rhaenyra’s eye, blinked slowly. She took a deep breath and reached out a trembling hand. The crown was cool to the touch under her hand.
She turned her head and looked to Aemond. He reached up and lifted his own crown from his head. As soon as the steel-and-rubies lifted from his brow, he looked younger, lighter. He placed the crown down next to the golden one. Reached his hand out and touched Sena’s, giving her a smile. “Try one on for size. I think you’ll find it fits you better than it did me.”
Sena’s heart leapt and she looked between Rhaenyra and Aemond. They looked more alike right now than she had ever seen them. She could see her uncle in both their features. To Sena’s shock, they even met each other’s gazes and shared a look. Not one of love but also not one of hatred. Maybe understanding.
Her chest fluttered. They were really going to do this, she realised. They were going to end this. A pit formed in her stomach as she looked down to the precious, historic circlets before her. All that stood between them and peace was her. She just needed to find her courage, find her steel and don a crown-
“How sweet. I love happily ever afters,” Daemon’s voice pierced the fog. He was grinning widely, maliciously at his daughter. “The simpering of women and cripples. It’s heartwarming.”
Sena’s hand tightened into a fist on the stone. Aemond laid a hand over her fist, willing her to remain calm, giving her a look. They were so close. It was so different from their usual patterns, her rage and his calm, it was strange. “Watch your tongue, father,” she warned and eyed the scar on his neck, “or I will finish what I started.”
Rhaenyra drew a sharp breath and Aemond squeezed her hand. Daemon leered at her. “There she is. My angry, wild-thing of a daughter. No more suited to ruling a kingdom than she would be to ruling Runestone. That is how you got the Arryns onside, isn’t it? Trading away Runestone? So directionless and small and scared you can’t even be the Lady of sheep and self-importance.”
“I did what I had to do to stop you from slaughtering every last person I care about, father,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly calm to her ears. “I will never apologise for that but you will never understand it because you have never thought of anyone but yourself. Here I am, begging you to let me put a crown on your son’s head and all you can see is that you have not won.”
He shook his head, grinning wryly. “No, you’re right, why can I not just be glad my lady wife is trading away everything I have done for her, everything I have given my life to win for her. Give it all away to you, a simpering and preening, pathetic little whore who thinks herself clever, who cannot even bring herself to be grateful I lowered myself to fucking her cunt mother-“
“Say another word and I’ll open your throat, Uncle,” Aemond hissed.
“Daemon-“ Rhaenyra snapped.
“No, let him,” Sena said, regarding her father with a small smile. “It’s all he has. His acid. His vitriol. He has had no true power in a long time. No one trusts him with it, not even his own brother.” She felt a strange sense of power flow through her as her father fumbled for whatever barbs he could throw at her. She had won. “Go on, father. Call me a whore for falling in love with someone who sees me, all of me. Demean the woman you murdered because she refused to simper and bend to your will. Call me foolish when all I have ever done is refuse to see the world with the same hatred in my soul as you do. I am everything you wish you were and you fucking hate it.”
Aemond’s fingers twined into hers. Rhaenyra was watching her with wide eyes.
“I have wished for many things in my life. I have wished to be rid of you more than once. But I have never wished to be like you, weak and scared as you are.” Her father scoffed, looked at his wife and threw his hands up in the air. “That’s it, then? All of this, Jacaerys and Lucerys, your father- my brother, just to give up and give in? Just like that?” Rhaenyra did not look at him. She looked like she was composing herself, pulling herself tall, shrugging off the weight of the crown. “Brilliant. Fucking perfect. I couldn’t make a better plan myself - the realm will be ruled by an infant and a green girl who will lose her mind a week of each month with moon blood.”
Aemond glowered at him, ready to say something, but Sena laid a hand on his arm to stop him, suddenly feeling far away.
Her stomach dropped.
Months making plans, flying north, sailing south, laying siege…
Aemond was none the wiser, glaring at her father, but Rhaenyra was watching her with an odd look. Lilac eyes tracked the slack expression on Sena’s features, her hold on Aemond. “Sena…” she breathed, “when did you last bleed?”
Daemon looked to his wife, then back at his daughter. Then turned cold violet eyes on Aemond.
A cold sense of realisation flooded through Sena like a tide.
Her moon blood.
She had been so busy flying from one end of the realm to the other, leading an army, sitting on war councils, she had not even noticed. Surrounded by men, men and more men, she had not even thought. All it would have taken was a single fucking woman in the entire camp to grimace and complain about cramp in her stomach. And the nausea in the mornings - she had thought it to be nerves. The constant blanket of dread that had laid over her for a year now.
She looked to Aemond, and Aemond caught the panicked look on her face, and realisation finally started to dawn on his. His eye went wide. “When did you last bleed?”
There was a lump the size of a peach pit in her throat. “Before-“ she croaked, “Before Harrenhal.”
Aemond looked as though he had seen a ghost. “But-” he said. “We were careful.” It was true. They had been so careful. Even in their frenzy, their desperation to get to learn every part of each other, they had been careful, knowing this war was no place for a babe. Aemond spent on her stomach, her back, in her mouth, never inside her-
“That first night,” she breathed with a pang of shock. That first night, when they had all spoken of moon tea, twice or three times. But they had also been plotting to end a war, moving their pieces into place. “There was Alys and Daeron and all our plans- I forgot.”
Aemond’s hands were shaking as he reached out to her. “Sena,” he whispered. “Do not jest.”
She laid a hand against her stomach, feeling for a slight curve but it was impossible to tell over her armour. But she was thickening, she had noticed it. She had thought it was having no time to train, being stressed, filling out her woman’s figure. Aemond had noticed it because he liked it, liked her tummy and her thighs. Her breasts, full and tender, painful most days. She had thought it was just stress and her fertility and Aemond’s ministrations, but no. This was not a jest. She sent a petrified look at her lover. “Aemond,” she breathed.
“It’s okay,” he said, placing a hand over hers, over her belly. “It’s better than okay. Look at me, love. It’s wonderful.”
“Congratulations,” Prince Daemon’s eyes were fixed on their hands on her belly. Her belly, where she was growing a babe- “And thank you. For finally giving me the excuse.”
The sound of Dark Sister being drawn from her sheath rung around the clearing like a bell tolling a death knell.
Aemond reached for his own sword.
“Daemon!” Rhaenyra barked, but it was no use. She had no control over him and she knew it.
Horrible, horrible dread filled Sena. “Take one step closer and I’ll kill you myself, father.”
“No,” Aemond snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Get behind me.”
“Daemon,” Rhaenyra demanded, “stop this right now. That is my brother. Your daughter.”
But Daemon was not listening to his wife, his queen. He rounded the stone where the First Men and the children of the forest had brokered their peace, thousands of years ago. They had come so close to doing the same. “You have cheated death too many times, nephew,” he said.
Aemond drew his sword, holding one arm out around Sena, keeping her back. “And I will do it once more,” he said, “so I may love my child like you never did.”
Their steel clashed and Sena screamed for them to stop, but Rhaenyra had wrapped her arms around her middle, pulling her sharply back from the duel. “No! No!” She begged as Daemon brought his blade down hard on Aemond and he feinted out of the way. She pulled at Rhaenyra’s grasp, twisting in her arms, but the former queen would not budge.
“Do not be foolish,” Rhaenyra ground out, “you have more to defend than yourself now.”
Sena’s blood thundered in her ears as her father struck and slashed with vicious intent. Battle-worn and tested, wielding Valyrian steel, with more than twice Aemond’s years. Prince Daemon was ferocious and Aemond met him with an equal venom, meeting every strike, dancing around the older man.
Daemon feinted, twisted himself around Aemond, then swung down on Aemond’s blind side. Sena screamed, “Aemond!” And he caught Dark Sister’s blade right at the last second. Her blood ran cold. Prince Daemon was not fighting to win but to kill. “Let me go,” she spat, rounding on Rhaenyra. “Let me go or I will hurt you too.”
Rhaenyra met her gaze, her eyes hard. “You have a kingdom to think of, Sena. You have a child-“
“A child who will have no father if I do not do something right now.”
“A child who will live without Aemond and die with you. A peace that will die with you too.”
She looked to her lover. Her brilliant, fierce lover, who was pushing back Daemon with everything he had, but was reticent to kill, pulling his blows right at the last second, the smallest sliver of hesitation softening him. He would not kill her father, she realised. It had to be her.
Daemon had none of Prince Aemond’s reservations. His blade swung for Aemond’s shoulder and met Aemond’s parry so hard it left a notch on the lesser sword.
Sena spun back to the Queen, pulling at her arms. “Rhaenyra,” she begged, meeting her cousin’s eyes. She would plead, she would beg. “If he kills Aemond, I will kill him,” she told her. Rhaenyra’s eyes were swimming with tears, pleading with Sena to stop. “And if I kill him, you will kill me and where does it fucking end?”
Rhaenyra’s grip on her slackened as she watched her husband. Not for the first time, Sena wondered what it was between them that had someone with a good heart so lost on someone with one of darkness and rot. Did she feel for Daemon how Sena felt for Aemond? Could Sena understand it, if that was the truth?
Rhaenyra let Sena slip past her. “Stop him,” she murmured, watching her husband with large, fearful eyes.
With a howl of fury and the sound of steel being drawn, Sena joined the fray. She caught Daemon’s sword on a downstroke, halting it from cutting into Aemond’s bicep. Daemon met her eye and glared at her, seething, burning with rage. “Two on one, father. Should be a fair enough fight for you.”
He smirked. “Three on one, really,” he said, eyeing her belly. “I warned you, girl. I told you, if he lays a hand on my daughter-“
“Your daughter is not your property,” Sena spat.
“Darling, please,” Aemond said. “Please. Stand back. Let me handle this.”
She shot him a look and he was afraid, watching her with his eye wide.
“Listen to your lover, Sena,” Prince Daemon ground out.
“No. You have taken too much from me, father. You will not have him too,” she said and there was an ice, a steel in her voice that shocked even her. “And my name is Visenya.”
Daemon raised his arms to parry her strike, a look of shock in his eyes at the savageness of her blow. She rushed him with her shoulder, catching him square in the chest and making him stumble off balance, leaving his back open to Aemond. As Aemond swung into the opportunity, Daemon clattered his gauntlet across Sena’s face and stars blew behind her eyelids. She spat blood and Daemon caught Aemond’s strike.
How many times had she duelled him and actually won? Even once? She searched her mind, searched her memories of Dragonstone. He fought like he was invincible, like arrows would bounce off him, and in some way they did. He had been knighted at six-and-ten, the same age as Baelon the Brave, and given Dark Sister by the Old King. He had been wielding Valyrian steel and knocking grander, larger foes in the dirt for some thirty years. How was she supposed to do this?
Daemon swung straight for her middle and Aemond howled with rage, knocking him off balance with his entire body. It was a poor move, had Aemond stumbling to catch himself. “Aemond,” Sena barked, willing him not to be foolish.
Aemond would not look at her, though, swinging on her father once again, intent on ending this. “It’s me you despise, Uncle. Attack me.”
“Gladly,” Daemon growled and lashed out savagely at his nephew.
Aemond parried the blade to his left, but Daemon knew what he was doing, knew it took Aemond a second longer to react to movement on his left side, and slipped Dark Sister down Aemond’s blade, past the tilted cross-guard and biting deep into the top of Aemond’s thigh, where his armour gave way to his hip.
It seemed her father knew veins and arteries better than she did.
The scream that came from Aemond was pure agony and Sena’s vision swam as blood spurted. “Aemond!” She cried. “Aemond-“
“Aemond!” It was Rhaenyra. Sobbing.
Aemond fell where he stood and dark, dark blood began to pool beneath him.
Sena screamed and rushed Daemon.
She threw her weight behind a swing, glancing off his breastplate, and he caught her with a firm arm. She went dead in his arms, pulling him off balance, raking her nails over his face. Daemon howled, let her go. She raised her sword again and Daemon swung desperately to meet her in time. He missed her blade entirely, missed her cross-guard and swung clean through her mail, through two of her fingers on the grip of her sword.
Blood spurted. Sena’s vision went grey. She wouldn’t have even known if she had not watched the digits fall, the grip of her sword growing warm and wet. The stench of iron on the air was nauseating. She did not feel it. She only felt rage and fear and a thirst for death. Luke, Grey Ghost, Jaehaerys, Jace, Maelor, all of it. Someone had to pay. She tackled her father where he left his front open, staring with faint horror at her fingers on the floor.
They crashed to the ground and Sena’s stomach rolled, her vision swam as her chin cracked off of her father’s breastplate. She forced herself up and pinned his arms to his sides with her thighs. She had him, she thought belligerently. She had him. On the floor, her blood running freely over both of them. She was growing weaker by the second, she knew it, but she did not need long. Her father struggled against her, throwing his greater weight in an attempt to push her off of his chest, so she raised her sword in her bloody sword hand and brought it down hard.
The pommel connected with Prince Daemon’s skull and she struck him so hard the ruby set on the cross-guard flew free of its setting, spinning away into the undergrowth. Prince Daemon went slack beneath her, his head rolling, groaning in agony and nausea.
He was dazed, his hands splayed wide at his sides. Dark Sister lay some feet away in the leaves.
At long last, Sena stood, shaking on her feet, ready to end this horror story once and for all.
She looked down at her sword hand. Where her first two fingers had been were now bloody stumps. She gazed at them in wonder. Swapped her sword to her left hand. Her left was weak, she was not so gifted as to be strong with both, but it would do.
This would not be swordplay, after all. This would be butchery. And she did not need to be proficient with a blade to slaughter a pig, she only needed to know where to stick it. She raised her sword - a slimmer, slighter model of Dark Sister, now devoid of its signature ruby. She would take off his head with one clean strike.
She would not miss again.
“Sena!” A woman’s voice screamed. “Stop! Please! Stop!”
She could see a creeping tide of blood at her feet. She suddenly remembered where she was. Sena whipped her head to Aemond and her vision swam.
He was limp on the ground and Rhaenyra was cradling him in her arms, tears running freely down her cheeks. She had removed his sword belt, tied it around his thigh. Twisted it tight with a branch of weirwood. Gods.
He was the reason Luke was dead. He would not deny it, nor would Sena, but there Rhaenyra was, trying to save his life. Sena watched Rhaenyra cradling her little brother, the man who killed her son, and suddenly, she felt the fight go out of her.
This needed to end, she realised, as she looked down at her father. This needed to end now.
She dropped to her knees, straddling her father’s prone form, and pulled him up so their faces were inches apart. “I am letting you live, father. Do you hear that?” She asked. He was dazed but he looked up at her. “I am showing you mercy. I am letting you live because I will not hurt Rhaenyra and Aegon and I want to preside over a whole realm with a united House Targaryen. I am letting you live because I will not kill my child’s grandfather. I am letting you live because you are my father, and as much as I have hated you over the years, I have also loved you. You will never again raise arms against a member of House Targaryen or I swear upon all the gods and on my mother’s grave, I will have your head. Am I understood?”
Daemon looked at her with identical violet eyes, unfocused. He nodded weakly, and Sena dropped him to the ground, kicking Dark Sister far away from his grasp and running to Aemond.
He was so pale, so limp. She kneeled over him in Rhaenyra’s arms, took his weight from her. He was still warm on her legs, on her body. She ran her hand down his face, leaving blood on his cheeks as she did. “Aemond. Aemond. Ñuha prūmia,” she begged him. His eye rolled, trying to focus on her, but he was slipping out of consciousness.
“Sena,” came Rhaenyra’s voice, pulling her from her state of shock and fury and fear. “Sena, look at me,” Rhaenyra steadies Sena’s face in her bloody hands. “You need to take him to Harrenhal now, get him to a maester as fast as you can. He may yet live. Take Vermithor, go now.”
He might live? But he was bleeding so much- he could barely hold his eye open. She had held him like this before, the night he lost his eye, but it had been nothing like this. The blood beneath them, soaking through her breeches, staining her armour and skin was dark and thick.
Sena looked back over her shoulder at where her father was attempting to rouse himself. He faltered, rolling up onto his knees and starting to gag and wretch. “Sena,” Rhaenyra snapped, pulling her gaze back. “You need to trust me. If my brother is to live, you need to go now. Daemon and I will follow.”
Fear shot through her. The fear that she could lose it all. Aemond and her sword hand and Rhaenyra and her father and their peace, the thing Aemond was dying for. Sena was afraid, afraid that if she left them now, it would all be for nought, and her father would vanish with the wind and plot another strike on her or the Green forces. Aemond would die for nothing and more of them would follow. Helaena next. Baela and Rhaena. Aegon - the Younger or the Elder.
But when she looked down at Aemond, she knew.
She would lose herself if she lost him now. If she had to spend the rest of her life looking upon a child with his laugh and his bowed lips but she could not hold him.
She knew she would give it all up in a heartbeat just to save him.
She had lied to Alys that day in Harrenhal, she realised faintly. Alys had asked her, you wish to end this bloodshed more than you care about black or green, Queen or King? More than you care about your siblings and cousins, even your Prince?
She had lied. She had lied and said yes. But she did not realise it was a lie until right now, with Aemond bleeding out in her arms. She’d slay them all, she’d burn it all down, just to save him. Just so he could meet his child.
“Help me,” she bit out to Rhaenyra.
They managed his limp weight between them, Rhaenyra urging her not to twist herself or strain too hard but that ship had sailed, she thought grimly. She had just went toe-to-toe with her father and won.
By the time they reached Vermithor at the shore, Aemond was deathly pale and not moving. His pulse was still there, weak but valiant. Vermithor snorted at her approach and Vhagar growled and whined. She could smell her rider’s blood on the air, see his limp form.
“Vermithor!” Sena barked. “Vermithor, dohaerās.”
The large bronze dragon snorted and reared his head, shirking away from the bleeding prince, the distraught rider.
“No! No! Not right now,” she hollered. Aemond’s weight bore down hard on her, her arms under his, holding up his upper body. Rhaenyra had his legs, holding the tourniquet on his thigh steady, but black blood was still oozing weakly. “Dohaerās. Dohaerās!”
But it was no use. Vermithor growled low in his throat, raising on his haunches.
She lowered Aemond to the shore and felt ready to sob. He would not die here. He would not. She would not bury him so far from home, without his mother looking on his face again. No.
She stood. Drew herself up to her full height. Her voice was cold and commanding. The voice of a woman grown. The voice of a ruler. “Iksan aōha kipagīros. Iksan Visenya Targārien, se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria. Iksan se brāedāzma zaldrīzes se kesā dohaeragon nyke.”
I am your rider. I am Visenya Targaryen, the blood of Old Valyria. I am the Bronze Dragon and you will serve me.
Vermithor met her eyes. Met her wild fury, her desperation with liquid amber eyes. She was no Visenya the Conqueror. No Jaehaerys the Conciliator. But she would be damned if she failed now because of some wretched wyrm.
He let out a low grumble, then lowered himself to the ground. One bronze wing extended, covering a large swathe of the shore.
Relief flooded every inch of her being. “Come on,” she said, and she lifted Aemond with Rhaenyra once more.
-----
Harrenhal was a dreadfully cold castle, and Sena did her best to keep the fire stoked at all hours, in the rooms where she had first held Aemond in her arms and known every inch of him.
Under the blankets and furs she had laid on him, Aemond rarely stirred, as heavily drugged as he was. His damaged eyelid was slack and drooped over his empty socket, his sapphire eye on his bedside table. The maesters had attended to him day and night for the first few days. Sena only allowed them to look at her hand once she knew he would live.
Her hand was in agony. The first two fingers of her sword hand severed just below the knuckle, the third finger cut deeply. She would never hold a sword in her right again. She did not know how she had not dropped her blade as it had happened and died on Dark Sister there and then. But then, she knew enough of life and death at this point to know the body was capable of incredible feats when it had to be. When there was no other choice.
The maesters gave her nothing for the pain - the babe in her belly was too little and milk of the poppy would be dangerous, they had told her. She was happy to agree. Happy to grit her teeth and bear it, sitting by Aemond’s side.
His soft, steady breathing kept her company. As did the tiny soul growing inside her.
The seat at Aemond’s bedside was comfortable enough and they had pushed the bed closer to the fire, giving the both of them the best chance of fighting off the Stranger, fighting off infection. Targaryen blood burned hot, though. She had faith in them.
She lost count of the days. Lost count of how long she sat and paced and rubbed at her belly. She brushed Aemond’s hair, shaved his face, changed his shirts, raised his head and fed him sips of broth, dribbles of water. He was growing frightfully skinny and pale and gaunt. He did nothing but sleep but still the shadows under his eyes were black as night. She stroked her fingers over his cheek. Begged him to live, begged him to wake, begged him to kiss her. “I love you,” she murmured into his hair, against his lips. “I love you. Do not leave me.”
Alys appeared every now and then, to bring her food, make sure she was drinking water, give her news of Rhaenyra and Daemon. “Your father is bed bound,” she had told her some days ago. “The maesters say he is bleeding in his brain. He keeps convulsing dreadfully.”
Sena did not care. Did not give a fuck, with Aemond so close to death. Rhaenyra stood vigil at Daemon’s bedside, same as Sena stayed at Aemond’s. There were no words exchanged, nothing uttered between them, but the crowns of the realm were on the mantle, she had noticed faintly a few days ago. Someone had placed them side by side above the hearth. How ridiculous it seemed now. All this for the sake of circlets of metal and gems. For a twisted throne.
Alys came with the maester one morning, who checked Aemond’s pulse, checked his bedpan. Listened to his breathing. Alys laid a hand on Sena’s shoulder. “You need to go to bed, Lady Visenya. This is not good for the babe. Allow me. I’ll stay with him, come wake you as soon as he stirs.”
Sena shook her head weakly. She was so tired, so tired, but how could she sleep?
“Lay down at least,” Alys murmured, brushing Sena’s curls from her shoulder. “Lay down beside him. Your father is incapacitated, Sena, he has not risen from his bed in a sennight. I will be right here. I will wake you if Aemond so much as twitches.”
She did not have the will to keep protesting. She lay down beside Aemond, burrowed under the furs and blankets and into his side, gently laying one had over his chest. Alys tugged the covers up tightly around her shoulders. It was not so comfortable - her dress was growing too tight on her figure and her stomach was still churning as the babe changed and rearranged every part of her.
“I love you,” she murmured against Aemond’s temple. “Do not leave me.”
She slept lightly, fitfully.
It was Aemond’s stirring, his breath rustling her hair that awoke her.
She was awake and alert in an instant, pushing herself up onto one arm. Her dress was hopelessly creased, her hair tangled in knots, and Alys was dozing in the chair by the bed. But Aemond- Aemond had a little pink in his cheeks. His eyelids fluttered. One purple eye and one blank space. Sena brushed his lower lip with her thumb. “Hello, darling,” she said. Her throat was thick with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears. “Hello. I’m so glad to see you.”
Alys stirred and looked at Aemond’s stirring form with wide eyes. “My Prince,” she breathed and pushed herself up quickly. “I- I’ll get the maester.”
As she fled from the room, Aemond’s eye left her and returned to Sena. “Gods, I must be truly dying, if she was concerned,” he jested and it sounded weak but Sena chuckled. She kissed the corner of his mouth sweetly.
“Your mother is coming,” she told him. “She is travelling right now. I am told she rides day and night on horseback. So no scaring us, okay? She is exhausting herself just for you, so you must hold on.”
He reached up and gripped her left hand weakly. “I intend to, beautiful girl. I intend to.”
“Good,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his hair, to his temple. “Good.”
He let go of her hand, reached down, to rest on her stomach. “Did I- did I dream this part? Was it just the milk of the poppy or are you-“
“We’re having a baby, Aemond,” she said, a little wetly. “The maester examined me a few days ago and confirmed it.”
He smiled that wide, boyish smile of his that was everything she loved about his soul in one. “And are you… pleased?”
She was crying again, she knew. Her tears ran off her cheeks, down her neck, dampening the shoulder of his shirt. “I have never been happier,” she said. “You are alive. We are at peace. And we have a little one on the way. Aemond, I never dreamed we would get this lucky.”
He was beaming with pride, his chest puffed up, with one hand on her belly and the other cradling her injured hand to his chest. “You’ll have to marry me now, love. I won’t let you make my daughter a bastard.”
She wrinkled her nose at him playfully, laughing wetly. “Or son.”
“Mhm,” he murmured, giving a little shake of his head. “I have a feeling about this.”
“Do you?” She asked, brushing his long hair from his forehead.
“I do,” he said, holding her gaze with certainty and giving her a little smile. “Kiss me, please, darling. I’m a little foggy to do it myself.”
She leaned over him, cradled his strong jaw in her hand and sealed their lips together. His breath was sour from slumber but she did not care even in the slightest. He tasted better than any fine wine and he sighed happily into the kiss, bumping his nose against hers with a gleeful little grin. He broke away from her, traced her shining bottom lip with his thumb. “Did we truly do it, darling? Did we end it?” He asked softly, his voice a little hazy.
“We did, my love,” she said, smiling down at him, stroking the stubble on his jaw.
“Mm,” he sighed happily. Then he pulled her down for a kiss. “Marry me,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Yes,” she whispered against him. “Yes.”
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¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤
{ Aemond Targaryen }
《 Part 13 》
The One-Eyed Prince and The Rogue Princess married. Secretly, but they did, even after all the schemes and plots of their families so they couldn't. The lovers made their own discreet plot as well, and it is working just fine. Daera understands their position, the causes of their harsh decisions. However, anyone who was wronged like Aemond so many times was, is going to feel some sort of hatred, wether it's subconsciously or consciously, towards the people who did it. That is a hard true. But, what Aemond ends up doing above the skies of Storm's End, out of rage, and eternal resentment...ultimately starts the domino effect that would lead to The Dance of the Dragons, which will mean the lost of his sanity...and his love.
《 The Invitation's Second Season 》
Masterlist
Warrnings: constant swearing, oral sex [fem receiving], fingering, innocence kink (is that even a thing???), manipulation, adultery, mentions of killing and kinslaying, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡
■ ■ ■
Kalistrox and Vermax, officially, have arrived to the Kingdom of Mountain and Vale.
From any point of the sky, both dragons can see the greatest castle of the region, The Eyrie, which majesty stands at the top of a tall mountain called The Giant’s Lance, and not for nothing. The structure is so pointy and sharp, so delicate and elegant.
“As High as Honor”. House Arryn’s motto couldn’t be more appropriate for them.
From the backs of their dragons, princes Jacaerys and Daera looked down with open lips, marveled by all the trees below them, and all the Mountains of The Moon in the surroundings. Everywhere they’d look, they’d find a mountain or a waterfall somewhere nearby. The Vale of Arryn is beautiful, to say the least.
Soon enough, after soaring in circles in the skies for a few moments, to make themselves noticed, they landed into the lush forest under. Kalistrox and Vermax both growled, curious and uncomfortable, feeling caged between all the trees that surround them.
With Jacaerys Velaryon and Daera Targaryen having descended upon The Eyrie on the prince’s young dragon, Vermax, and the princess’ ancient one, Kalistrox, their mission truly began; they will win The Vale of Arryn for their mother, Queen Rhaenyra.
-Shh, shh…-Daera shushes Kalistrox, caressing his golden scales while walking down his wing, looking around. Also glancing at the surroundings, her husband jumps down from his dragon, petting his head while he shrieks lowly.
Unconsciously walking towards the other, Jace and Daera looked at the many great tall trees, barely seeing the end of them, for they were so tall. They’re not used to be in the woods.
-I cannot remember the last time I was in a forest-, Jacaerys confesses with a curious smile-. Do you?-, he asks, narrowing his eyes to look at her.
Daera blinked slowly, looking away from the trees when remembering the last time she was in a wood. Six months ago, when her nephews Jaehaerys and Jaehaera turned half a year. Queen Alicent took the spirit to celebrate it with a camp to the Kingswood. She was in King’s Landing in those days, on her usual monthly visits to Helaena and the kids, and Aemond.
-…I do-, she answered, mumbling softly. Jacaerys looked at her, noticing nostalgia on her purple eyes.
The princess has a lot of quick memories, all at once, of that time in the woods with the royal family and the lords that accompanied him. She played with the kids non-stop, gossiped with Helaena only to be answered with laughs and scrunched-noses from her, hunted with the lords, bathed naked in a river, secretly danced with Aemond behind the trees at night, kissed with him… How could things be so different now, just from a moment to another?
During their flight here, Daera became aware of something that broke her heart. Lost in random memories and counting random days, she realized that…today is Jaehaera and Jaehaerys’ name day. Today they’re turning a year, and she’s not with them, and neither can. Their aunt, who loves them so much, is far far away from them on this special day, and there’s literally no way she could be there.
She was supposed to be at King’s Landing today, having returned with Rhaenyra on dragonback, as they promised, but everything went to shit. And they’re now here, at The Vale’s wood, away from anyone or anything they know.
-Is something wrong?-. Jace’s question took her out of her mind. Daera quickly sniffs her nose, raising her brows and looking up again.
-No, no-. She shakes her head from side to side-. Only smelling the pine trees, aren’t they lovely?-. She narrows her eyes, smiling and looking around again. Nevertheless, he remained looking at her.
-Daera…-, he whispered her name with softness. The princess glances at him, closing her lips, knowing that he knows there’s something up with her-. It is only me and you, and it will only be me and you during the whole length of our mission; for the first time is like this-. He raises his brows, getting closer to her with slow steps. Daera gulps lightly, curving her eyebrows while hearing his sympathetic tone-…I think we should tell each other everything-, the prince confesses with honesty.
The Rogue Princess gulps again, and starts to nod, actually agreeing with his statement. It is true. The Queen has given them a great responsibility to take, only to the two of them. The best thing is for them to act as one, then, and for that…they’ll have to break some walls.
-I miss Helaena a lot-, she whispered-…and the children…-Daera confessed. Moved, Jacaerys sighed, listening to her-. They’re turning a year today, did you know?-. She smirks tinyly, thinking of those two precious.
-Do they?-, the prince get surprised-. Has it…has it really been a year since we were on Driftmark?-, he asks, not believing how fast time has passed.
-An exact year-, she mumbles with a little sad smile. She couldn’t help but to also think that it has been to an exact year since Luke snaked on her and Aemond, on the beach. The day that everything changed for them, when everyone knew of their affair-. Time does fly, indeed-. She sighed.
-It does…-. Jace whispers, remembering too that night, the very same night the idea of marrying her came to his mind, to save her from Aemond’s hands.
-And I- I fear for them, for Helaena and the children-. Daera confesses, sniffing her nose with unquietness. He furrows his brows, wondering why-. They’re practically alone in that Keep…and I’m not there to help them-, she murmurs, looking down. Daera hurted herself with her own words, thinking of Aemond, thinking that he was in the Red Keep, not having an idea he was actually at Storm’s End.
Knowing that Aemond was completely dedicated to putting Aegon on the throne -which he achieved- Daera feels that now Helaena and her children are truly alone…
-I understand your sadness, wife-. Jacaerys nods, raising a hand to caress one of her arms. She curves her brows, softly, looking at his brown comprehensive eyes-. Know that they won’t be alone for long. You’ll see that, as soon as this is over, you shall reunite with them again, under different terms than these-. He promised, so sure of himself that he actually made his wife to start to smile.
Trusting in that good fate, Daera smirked towards him, lifting up her cheeks. Jacaerys copied her expression, sweetly smiling to her, feeling a little blush on his cheeks.
-You’re good with words, sweet prince-. She whispers with softness, making him to look down, still smiling, and flattered. Daera sighs, caressing his arms and then patting them-. Let’s go to lady Jeyne Arryn now, so you can show off your wise mouth with her too-. She winks an eye, beginning to walk. Jace sighed and chuckled, following her right by her side.
The riders said goodbye to their dragons, promising they’d be back soon. Both princes walked between the trees of the forest, soon remembering of that time they were in here too, with their other siblings, when they were still kids.
In this very forest was that The Rogue Princess gained her soubriquet, after she murdered three rapists that tried to harm her and her sisters. Always a good moment to remember that one.
■ ■ ■
When the Valyrian princes reached The Eyrie’s gates they presented themselves to the guards standing outside. The knights were informed they were before prince Jacaerys Velaryon, firstborn of the Realm’s Delight, and princess Daera Targaryen, firstborn of the Rogue Prince.
They demanded to have an audience with the Lady of The Vale, and none refuted their wish. The princes were immediately taken into The Eyrie, being guided by three honorable knights of House Arryn. The princes were always side by side, he by her right and she by his left.
The castle’s insides are more than beautiful, perhaps more than the outsides. The walls are great and the floors well-polished. Many ancestral heraldries are in disposal around the hallways of the castle. A strong breeze comes from every part they look to. The fortress’ freshness is immaculate.
Soon, they reached the High Hall of the Eyrie, where they found a high throne. And, in there, Lady Jeyne Arryn looked down at them, powerfully seated on a huge and majestic throne sculped in the form of a very delicate tree.
The woman is a redhead woman of strong factions, her eyes are as blue as the sky above her land. Her red hair falls to her back and in front of her shoulders. Some strands of it are over her breast, which are almost in full display, for the lady wears a very open dress, with a wide neckline that reaches the beginning of her belly bottom.
-I present to you, my lady: the prince Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Ser Laenor Velaryon and princess Rhaenyra, and the princess Daera Targaryen, daughter of prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Laena Velaryon!-, one of the knights announces with a firm voice.
Jace and Daera stopped walking at the same time after they entered the rooms. The princess smiled tinyly when her mother was named, while the young man parted his lips, bemused, being incapable of not glancing for a quick second to the woman’s breasts, white and big.
The woman looked at him too, better said she stared. A smile crossed her lips, while a shine appeared in her eyes.
-My lady-, Daera bowed her head down.
-My lady-, Jace does the same, both respectful.
The Maiden of The Vale, Lady Jeyne Arryn, was five-and-thirty, more than ten years their seniors. Never wed, Lady Jeyne had reigned over the Vale since the death of her father and elder brothers at the hands of the Stone Crows of the hills when she was three.
There exist many tales about her, many that both princes have heard of. Some tell that this famous maiden was in truth a highborn harlot with a voracious appetite for men. Others attest that Jeyne Arryn prefers the intimate companionship of other women.
We ought to point out that this is not Daera’s first time in The Vale since she was declared The Rogue Princess. She has returned other times after that, in some of the trips she accompanied princess Rhaenys to. However, this is Jace’s first time in here since that time. He remembers little, and doesn’t know which is the truth about the lady’s preference. Daera does. The former one is the true one.
But, we are here to attend to the matters that happen in the High Hall of The Eyrie, rather than its bedchambers.
-Princess-, Lady Jeyne Arryn salutes the white-haired woman, who nodded towards her, serious. They have never been very fond of each other because, as we know, The Vale is not very fond either of the girl’s father, Daemon-. My prince…-, she then looks at Jacaerys, bowing her head.
-My lady-. He nodded too, keeping a serious expression. He holds in his hand a rolled paper-. We come in the behalf of The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, my mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen-. He informed.
-“Queen”?-, Jeyne repeated, slightly furrowing her red eyebrows. Jace breathes in, pressing his lips.
-If it hasn’t arrived to your knowledge yet, then we may inform you that…my uncle -my husband’s grandsire-, Viserys, has…died-. Daera informed with a slow pace, raising her brows to the top of her forehead. Her heart and Jace’s ached internally when thinking of the passing King.
The lady on the throne’s lips parted, surprised.
-Viserys died?-. She asked, with a light sorrow being palpable on her voice. She breathes in, blinking a few times and raising her shoulders-. No raven has arrived from the capital in these days, no word announcing the death of King Viserys, nor about the coronation of princess Rhaenyra as Queen-. Jeyne informs, briefly shaking her head.
-Because dragons fly faster than ravens-. Daera nodded. Jacaerys smirked tinyly, side-eyeing for a second. Lady Arryn, lips-parted, nods slowly, looking at the two of them, and then fixating her eyes on the boy-. My cousin, Aegon, has usurped the Iron Throne-, she suddenly informed as well, making her to go speechless.
-He was crowned King, unfairly, while my mother was in Dragonstone, unknown to the new of King Viserys’ death-. Jacaerys tells with a serious tone, looking at the lady, who stares at him with furrowed brows.
Lady Jeyne looked down for a second, clearly thoughtful. It clearly is much to take in, in less than five minutes since their arrival. She would have first invited them to some crackers and tea, but the matter is indeed too delicate to postpone.
-My lady-
The Velaryon prince’s voice made Jeyne to look again towards them. She sees how they both walked three steps forward, getting closer to her high throne. She recognized the look of bravery on both the princes’ eyes.
-We have come to ask for your support and that of your land, to have you by our side, and to fight for our Queen’s right and honor-. Prince Jacaerys states, truly forgetting the paper he has on his hands.
-The loyalty and fealty from your House and your vassals to our cause is what we ask you-. Princess Daera speaks with calm yet seriousness, with her hands crossed behind her back-. For some days now The Hightowers have been believing they can get away with their treason and treachery-, she raises her brows.
-With The Vale standing by us, they’ll start to understand it will not be that way-. Jacaerys stated.
The princes were well listened by The Maiden of The Vale. She heard every word and thought about every statement. After some quiet moments, she blinked, resting her back against her throne.
Jeyne planned to speak, but went silent when she noticed someone entering the room. The princes turned around too when hearing those steps.
-Maester Mushkun-. Lady Arryn nods towards him, who immediately started to approach towards her, with a paper on his hand-. Can’t you see I am in the middle of an audience with the princes?-, she asks, honestly wondering why he came if he was not called.
-Pardon me, my lady, my greatest excuses, but…-the Maester bows his head quickly towards the princes, who answered with puzzle, curious. Mushkun walks up the stairs towards her seat-. A raven has arrived, my lady…from King’s Landing-. He informed.
Jeyne turned to look at them with open lips. Jace and Daera froze at that moment, getting tense. They looked at each other, clenching their jaws. The lady blinked, slowly taking the paper on one of her hands.
-Thank you, Mushkun-. She mumbles, starting to open the roll. The princes move on their places, unquiet-. Leave-, she ordered to him.
The Maester bowed, and walked down the stairs again. Nervously, and quickly side-eyeing the princes, he walked away, soon outing the room. Jeyne bit her cheeks, and looked down to the paper, reading it silently.
-Fuck-. Daera whispered, and her husband turned to look at her-. Fucking cunts, fucking assholes, fuck!-. She curses under her breath, tightening her fists behind her back. The prince gulps nervously, glancing towards the lady again.
While Lady Arryn reads, she raised her brows and scrunched her lips, giving a huge blink. She continued reading, scoffing lowly. Then, she closed her eyes for some long seconds, tilting her head, and breathing in deeply. Everything under the highly curious gaze of them two.
Jeyne rolled the paper back, softly and delicately. She looks to the young ones, having her jaw clenched, and a thoughtful smile on her lips.
-Dragons do fly faster than ravens, then-. She says.
She let the paper to fall on the floor. The breeze immediately blew it away. Jace parted his lips, and Daera furrowed her brows strongly.
-Thrice have mine own kin sought to replace me-. Lady Jeyne told Prince Jacaerys and Princess Daera, who listened interested-. My cousin Ser Arnold is wont to say that women are too soft to rule-. She says, tilting her head to a side-…I have him in one of my sky cells, if you would like to ask him-. She raised her brows. Daera’s lips lifted up a little, smirking sideways-. Your Prince Daemon used his first wife most cruelly, it is true…-, the Lady confesses in an ashamed sigh.
Daera stopped smirking, pressing her lips and clenching her throat. Jace looked sideways at her, pressing his mouth as well. They both know about the story of Daemon’s first marriage, how he’s said to have coldly murdered Lady Rhea Rhoyce of Riverrun. Daemon’s first daughter does not believe this tale, but this is not the moment to fight it either.
-But not withstanding your mother’s poor taste in consorts, she remains our rightful Queen, and mine own blood besides, an Arryn on her mother’s side-. Lady Jeyne went on saying, with honesty, while nodding-. In this world of men, we women must band together…-, she slowly realizes, looking at her feet for a few seconds.
Daera and Jace stare at her with a hope they could not hide very well, at least not him. All they want is support, reassurance. A safe feeling that they will win, and that everything will be alright.
-The Vale and its knights shall stand with her-. Lady Jeyne Arryn declared with a firm voice, standing up from her throne.
And that’s what they got.
The prince’s chest got filled with air of pride and relieve when they breathed in deeply. Daera opened her lips, starting to smile with glory. The lady wanted to chuckle when she saw the excited look the spouses shared.
-…But I will need Her Grace to grant me one request-. Lady Jeyne Arryn added, raising her brows. They look at her again, curious.
-What might that be?-, prince Jacaerys asked, looking like he would give her anything she’d ask for right now.
-Dragons-. The Lady of The Vale answered, firmly, walking two steps down her throne. Jace and Daera got surprised, listening closely-. I have no fear of armies. Many and more have broken themselves against my Bloody Gate, and The Eyrie is known to be impregnable-. She shrugged, taking another step towards them.
Slowly, Daera closed her lips with softness, understanding now what she was asking for.
-Our enemy has dragons too…-, the princess pointed. The lady smiled to her, raising her brows, and nodding.
-I saw you arriving, flying and soaring up there-. Jeyne says, crossing her hands over her belly. Jace, only for a brief second, glanced at her exposed breasts-. You two have descended on us from the sky, as Queen Visenya once did during the Conquest…and I was powerless to halt you, and I hate feeling powerless-. She narrows her eyes, almost ashamed-. Send me dragonriders-. The lady demanded with firmness.
Daera and Jace both admire her determination, for her people and for herself. Daera thinks of Baela, knowing she’d be perfect for the task. And so, she takes a step front, nearing to the lady.
-We shall see it done, my lady-. Princess Daera agreed, which made a smile to appear on Jeyne’s closed lips-. You shall have dragonriders to defend your land-. She promised.
-Then it is done-. Lady Arryn cheered, raising her brows. She looked past the princess, to the prince, whom she found smiling too. Their eyes connected, and the boy instantly felt nervous, pressing his lips. She keeps smiling, licking her lips-. Another request would be welcomed, wouldn’t it?-, she mumbles.
Daera furrows her brows, looking at her suspiciously,
-May I confess to you, my prince, that a lot I have heard of the Velaryon force, but had never before seen one from up close?-. She tells Jace, taking another step down. Now she’s at their same level, near to Daera, whose fist started to clench behind her back. Jacaerys stares at her, mouth-opened, silly-…At least not one this handsome-, she adds, shrugging.
-Oh-, Jace put his palms together, letting out a laugh. He’s flattered, not because he was called handsome, but because he was called a Velaryon so confidently. He loves that.
-Where is this leading to?-. Daera asked with little patience, with a wide irritated smile on her face, fighting to not curse. That’s the princess Daera the Lady Jeyne has known all her life, so her tone didn’t surprise her.
-I shall make my last petition-. Lady Arryn informs, nearing to the prince with slow marked steps. He gulps, fighting to not look down to her chest. Daera follows her with her eyes on fire-. I want you to fuck me on my throne-. She simply asked to the prince.
Jace immediately turned red, quickly trying to pretend it while breathing in deeply. Within a second Daera gasped, filled of courage.
-‘Am fucking sorry?! What the fu-…?!-, and before she could end her curses, Jacaerys quickly grabbed her hand and pulled it lightly, raising his brows. Daera shuts up, flabbergasted.
Lady Jeyne only watches with calm, forever smiling.
-My lady, um…-Jace licks his lips, breathing in while still holding her hand. Daera breathes fast, nearly killing her with her eyes-. I am afraid that, uh- well…-. He sighs, and then clears his throat under both woman’s glance-. I’m still keeping my first time, my lady, to…someone dear of mine-. Jace’s cheeks turned so red while speaking, not looking at neither of them while doing so.
Lady Arryn raised her brows while she still smiled, surprised. It really shocked her to know that princess Daera -the most lustful princess of the Seven Kingdoms- hasn’t still bedded her one-year husband. Daera, on the other hand, is speechless. Is this truth? Is Jace keeping his deflowerment…for and to her?
-Well, who am I to judge?-. Lady Jeyne sighs, shrugging. Jace gulps, while Daera stares at him at all moments, mouth-opened-. However, then, you can bring me to my climax with your tongue…can’t you not?-. She narrows her cocky eyes, not giving up.
Daera grumbled once again, but her husband quickly pulled her hand again.
-We ask you for a moment, my lady-. Jace asks for, gulping.
-And you shall have it-, she instantly permits.
Jacaerys presses his lips with doubt, looking at Daera, who looked back at him with raged eyes and twisted mouth.
■ ■ ■
-Jace, what the fuck?!-. Daera whispered loudly, as soon as the doors were closed.
-Daera!-, he raises his brows, turning around.
Lady Arryn gave them access to one of the many halls of The Eyrie. This one is huge and with no one in besides them. The windows are tall and open, and in the middle of the room there’s a very large white table of marble, of eighteen chairs.
-How dares she to ask such a thing?!-. Daera hisses with rage, walking into the room. Her fists are tight to the sides of her body-. I should have punched her!-, she growls.
-Let us talk this through, sister-. He recommends, slowly raising his brows while approaching to her.
-Are you not angry?!-, she narrows her eyes and turns to look at him, shrieking.
-Oh I should have punched her because I’m angry?-, he shrugges-. Which I’m not-, he quickly clarifies.
-Well- you should!-. Daera stutters, hitting her own thighs and shaking her head from side to side, troubled.
-I have heard that the Lady of The Vale is this way, Daera-. Jacaerys whispers with honesty, nearing to her. She presses her lips, clenching her jaw while he approaches-. She asked for dragonriders and her- her satisfaction…it seems that we shall give her both-, he says, slowly raising his brows.
-No-. Daera shook her head, gulping-. She’s taking advantage of you, wickedly! You already told her that you haven’t even had your first time, and yet…!-, her complaining was interrupted by him, who cleared his throat with shame when hearing her saying it.
-I am not Luke, Daera-. Jacaerys interrupter her within a whisper. She was left mouth-opened, realizing that she was doing it again-. I am a man-. He states, sure.
Daera closes her mouth, and gulps. Slowly, she looks at him, from feet to toe, seeing his tall height compared to hers, his strong jaw, his broad shoulders. He’s right, she sighs, he is a man.
That's something she remembered most vividly when she remembered that thing they did in King's Landing. When planning on making Alyssa to pass as his daughter, she took him to her bed and…there, she didn’t expect to feel that heat that took over all of her body while seducing him.
She remembers his sharp whines and how big and hulking his cock was, and that was below his clothes. She remembers how it felt to have it poking strongly against her core, and she remembers too how he had to hurry to the washroom to clean himself after they were done, for he cum so hard and abundant.
Looking at his brown eyes, Daera gulps, realizing that she doesn’t want Jeyne Arryn’s cunt to be the first that he ever tastes. That can’t be his first one!
But, is it Jeyne Arryn’s cunt the problem? Does Daera care because its Jeyne Arryn’s cunt, or because is a cunt that…is not her own? Does she want to be Jace’s first time, is that it? Is it that she so much likes his inexperience? Is that she wants it for herself?
The spouses stare at each other, silently. Jace has realized how her brows are now furrowed, and her throat afflicted.
-The faster we finish here, the faster we will be leaving to Winterfell-. The brown-haired prince points with a soft whisper, lightly raising his eyebrows.
Daera’s trembling lips closed harshly when she neared her chin to her shoulder, looking up at him with eyes of doubt and seriousness. He stares at her for many silent seconds, reading her face. He took a step closer.
-I can accept that, as my sister, you don’t want me to do it-. Jace whispers softly, lightly raising his brows. Daera remains silent, staring at him-. But, if it is as my sacred wife…-, he takes a step closer, and in that moment her lips parted-…then speak it now, Daera-. The prince asks with a pleading tone, weakly, curving his frown, and looking at her from up closely.
Daera breathes slowly, looking at the nerves and desire on Jacaerys’ eyes. It’s so obvious, almost touchable. What the princess isn’t being aware of is that her eyes are showing the very same emotion, and he was noticing it with no restriction.
Those nerves on his eyes kill her, turns her on. Fuck. Fucking shit. Fuck Jace. Fuck life. Fuck it.
-As your fucking wife, I want you to do it good-. Daera raised her brows, approaching even nearer.
In that moment, Jace froze up, opening his brown eyes hugely. She tilts her head to a side, gulping, and glancing at his neck for two seconds.
-You have no idea on how to do it, do you?-. She whispers, taking another step towards him. Jace breathes heavily, playing with his fingers at the sides of his body, looking down at her feet. He silently shook his head-. Say it-, she ordered.
-I have no idea on how to do it-, he answered within a whisper, blinking slowly. He wanted to hold a part of her body, any part, but didn’t have the courage to do it by himself.
-Ow, Jace…-she hummed, closing her eyes while breathing in. He licks his lips, and then gulps-. The magic is in one’s tongue-. Daera says with her brows up-. You lick everything that you find yourself with-. She speaks with a sweet voice. She placed a finger under his chin and made him to look up, to look at her.
Jacaerys felt dizzy -in the best of ways- when looking at her dilatated purple eyes, those that right now are so fixated on him. Holy gods, he thinks, does she desire me?
-There’s a button in the middle of a lady’s cunt, you know?-. The princess whispers, narrowing her eyes. In that moment he trembled, closing his mouth harshly-. When using your mouth down there, you must suck that button, as many times as you can, as hardly as you can. As if you were starving you must suck, lick and kiss-. Daera speaks with passion. At the same time, she’s feeling a heat burning in her own button.
-Gods-, he let a great sigh out, trembling. She bit her lips briefly when he did so, mesmerized by his obvious innocence, curiosity and horniness. He’s alluring.
Daera suck her inferior lip, looking at his mouth. She hums, raising a hand, and directing it towards there. Jacaerys trembled when her thumb pulled his inferior lip down. He whined when she rubbed the tip of a finger in there.
-Oh, look at that…-Daera hums, looking at her finger, seeing the heavy saliva she got out of Jace’s mouth. His shoulders come up and down with his fast breathing-…it looks like you’re ready-, she mumbled, flirty.
Screw it.
-Oh, come on-. Daera grunted, grabbing his cloth’s neck from a moment to another and pulling him with her when she started to walk backwards. Jace stutters, quickly following her like an idiot-. Come on, come on, come on-. She speaks fastly as she climbed to the top of the table, seating on it with quickness.
Daera grabbed her skirt, and started to pull it up. Placing his open palms at the side of her body, in the table, Jace breathes fast and desperately, and went speechless when seeing her legs and thighs starting to be shown, just for him to see.
-Seven hells-. He whined, like a pup, stumbling on his own feet even though he was just standing.
-Down, fucking hells-, while mumbling a cursing, The Rogue Princess places an open hand on his head and pushed him down. So weak and mesmerized, Jace was taken down with easiness.
Prince Jacaerys fell to his knees, and the hand on his head pushed him so his nose would clash with the bare skins of her legs. The prince whined weakly, curving his brows and opening his lips, smelling the sweet aroma of hers. She smells like lavender. ´
Completely stunned, Jace babbles against her skin, closing his eyes. Daera bits her lips, opening her legs slowly. Very timidly, he places a kiss on one of her knees, tasting its sweetness. It made him to whine, yet again, and to kiss it again.
-See it-, he heard a low whisper from his wife.
When Jace opened his eyes again, he was left speechless. He is face to face with some kind of marvel, some kind of a flower-shaped thing. It is so beautiful, it is so purple, it is…oh gods, it is wet.
Daera smiled, she did it bigly when seeing Jace’s reaction seeing a cunt for the first time. His rection is all hers, and she adores it. The princess hums, biting her lips for a moment.
-You honor me so much, Daera-. He whispered, nearly with no voice. He hears her giggle. He wanted to look up, but was too mesmerized on the sight-. But whe- where are your undergarments?-, he mumbles, silly.
-Irrelevant-, she cocked her head.
He felt a push on his head from the hand of it. The prince hums weakly, tilting his head to a side, admiring the pretty little thing he was staring to. When recalling the points Daera gave him before, he started to get nearer, breathing fastly.
When his breathing clashes with the wetness of her cunt, Daera straightened her back and breathed in deeply, anxious. She looks down, pushing him again. Jacaerys placed his hands on the floor, where he as kneeled, and opened his mouth.
After almost a year of being married, prince Jacaerys Velaryon for the first time tasted his wife’s, Daera Targaryen, savor. In that moment, they both knew it would never be the same again. In that moment, he discovered the taste of heavens.
It’s deliciously salty.
-Fuck!-, Daera sighed deeply when feeling the first lick from him.
Jacaerys hummed so sharply, rolling his eyes blank with bemusement when feeling the soft flesh under his tongue. He started to move it, so slowly, fearing of breaking something -the poor boy-. Jace licks from side to side, feeling the button going along his tongue.
He looks up while doing it, terribly nervous, but not wanting to stop nevertheless. She finds Daera biting her lips and her hips trembling while she looks back at him. He whines with weakness, scratching the floor with his nails while he directs his tongue to all places possible, as she told him before.
Daera loves power. She’s loving to see Jace nervous of pleasing her, he’s trying so hard and, fuck, so good. She had almost forgotten that the prince is gifted. He learns everything that is teach to him. And he learns fast.
-That’s it-. The princess whispers, caressing his brown mane-. Breath, breath Jace-. She pulls his head, driving him away. Jacaerys breathes fastly and deeply, looking at her with silly eyes and hungry mouth, almost smiling-. Fuck, you son of a bitch-. She mumbled, amused herself, never having imagined that he would look so good and slutty while doing this.
-Am I doing it alright?-, he questions with a fasted breath.
She didn’t answer, on purpose, and without notice pulled his mouth back to her cunt. For no one’s surprise, he actually cheered this, and quickly began to lick all of her womanhood again. She bit her lips, chuckling growly, and making circles with her hips, dancing against his mouth.
He did what was told. In one moment, he prisoned the button on his lips, and sucked it deeply against his cheeks. That was the first time that Daera moaned, doing it loudly and with a smile, jumping on the table. When she did, he whined loudly as well, closing his eyes when feeling tears gathering in it.
-Fuck, fuck, Jac- ow!-.Daera howls with an open smile. He’s licking and tasting everything, always poking with his big nose on her sensible flesh-. Fuck!-. She growls, pushing his head harder.
The young man between her opened legs grunts, clashing his hands against the table and scratching the marble to the sides of her body, going deeper on her cunt. When she saw his hands, she was quick to take them, and to make them clash against her own thighs, grunting too.
When Jace realized he had the permission to touch her skin besides her cunt, he squeezed her thighs tightly, pressing them so hard, almost nailing his nails on them. Daera trembled under his touch, opening her mouth wide. She moaned when seeing his big manly hands squeezing her legs as if they’re made out of sand.
The princess moans, and from a moment to another she climbed completely up the table. The prince followed like a hungry hound, quickly getting on the table too, letting his shoes to fall on the floor. He whines with great desire, crawling with his hands and knees while she crawled back with her elbows and feet, looking at him with a smile.
-Come, come-. She babbles with quickness, taking his hair again, and pulling him towards the middle of her open legs.
Jacaerys groaned sharply, taking her thighs again and now pushing them, opening her legs wider. The princess moaned with a surprised smile, making a fist that pulled his brown hair with force. He whines so sharply, with pain and pleasure, licking the dripping cunt of his wife, which is getting every time more wet, damping all of his mouth and cheeks.
“Is this heaven?”, the prince dared to think. “How did I live eight and ten years without knowing about this marvel? Perhaps I was not living at all”
Feeling all of her insides trembling, Daera closed her legs and trapped Jace’s head in the middle of them. He felt blessed, and never stopped licking her tasty womanhood. She hums two times, and opens her legs again, breathing fastly.
-See, see-. Speaking with no breaths, she makes him to look at her, pulling him away. He licks his wet lips, looking at her eyes-. Give me your hand-. She whispers, sitting on.
-My hand?-, he babbles, licking his lips again.
Daera takes his right hand, for he’s right-handed. Her own hand made two of his five fingers to go down, the two of the middle. That confused him. Why is she making him do this strange sign?
-Is this…-Jace looks at his hand. Only his thumb, index and pinky finger are up-…is this some signal?-, he wonders.
-It is to finger me-. The Rogue Princess answered with a whisper filled of lust and fun, batting her lashes. He parts his lips, speechless-. Do you want to learn?-, she questions.
-Yes-, he answered without thinking about it.
Daera chuckles, taking his hand and guiding him. Jace gasps lightly when he sees her directing those two fingers of the middle towards her cunt, under her button. The prince gets worried, and then he nearly yelled when seeing those finger just disappearing into her womanhood.
-Ow, fuck!-. But he didn’t yell, because she seemed to like it so much. He saw how she gasped and smile, and began to move his hand with hers, making them fingers to come in and out.
-Oh my gods, heavens-. He whispers, shocked, feeling the wet insides of her. He gasps, looking at the enjoyment on her face. Jace breathed fast, starting to make those moves by his own, taking his fingers in, and then out.
-Yes-, she shrieks, making her hips to dance in circles. He blinks bigly, moaning lowly when hearing the sound it was making-. Yes, yes, oww fuc- yes Jace-. Daera grunts, biting her lips-. Faster-, she whispers.
-What?-, he fears.
-Stronger!-, she demanded.
The prince lifts a side of his lips, bemused, and started to make his fingers to go faster. That made the princess to moan quicker, and louder. Breathing fast, he also made his fingers to clash deeper on her interior, until reaching the end of it. Daera shrieks, as a dragon, pushing his head towards her.
Their foreheads met. They breath fast over the other’s face, looking at each other’s eyes. Daera’s are half closed, but yet are looking at him in the middle of her moans. That image will remain with the prince Jacaerys until his last day.
-Does- does it hurt?-. He asked, fearful and a little doubtful.
-Not at all, brother-. She moans, and he whined, biting his lips and going faster-. Yes, yes, fuck yes, Jace!-. She cries with great pleasure, humping on his fingers.
Taking a great liking to it, Jacaerys started to do it as fastly as he could, rapidly going in and out with his fingers while he whines. Daera moaned, lying her back again in the table, and twitching as if she was on fire.
Jace had the greatest of ideas. He returned his mouth to her cunt, but didn’t apart his fingers from it. So, the princess now has the man’s round tongue and bulky fingers doing marvels to her wet womanhood, almost taking her to the skies above The Eyrie.
-Yes, yes! Holy fuck- fucks, Jacaerys!-. Daera cursed and laughed towards the ceiling, pulling his hair with no mercy, completely messing it up.
Breathless and decided, with tears on his brown eyes, Jace sucked on the button with softness, licking at the same time that he sweetly pushed his fingers inside of her.
And with this, Daera finished fairly. He admired how the princess suddenly clenched her legs and twitched in the table, moaning and breathing as if there was no air around her. She pulled his hair so strongly, and grabbed one of her breasts with violence, gripping it.
-Daera-. He whispers, breathless as well, looking at her all.
-Ow, fuck. Goodness…-, she sighs with her eyes closed. She licked her lips, and slowly opened her legs again-. Give it little kisses, Jace-. She orders. The prince was obedient, nearing his lips to the womanhood again, blessing it with soft kisses-…It does marvels when a lady finish-, she murmured with a smile, caressing his brown mane.
While pampering it with tender kisses, Jacaerys looks up to her. The princess smiled silly at him, biting her lips while pampering his hair.
-Oh…-Jace grunted-. I want to do it again-, he confesses, ready to start to lick again.
-Jace-, she quickly stopped him, closing her legs. The prince seemed so disappointed, and hungry, leaving his lips open-. You, um…-she caresses his brown hair-…you’re an expert already, I’m afraid…-the princess guaranteed, raising her brows.
When hearing so, the brown-eyed Velaryon prince smiled, with his heart beating fast and his face all wet. She smiled back at him, kind of amused, adoring his enthusiasm. He never lacks it.
-Then I shall ask you for the last time…-Jace murmurs, slowly coming down of the table. Still lying on it, Daera follows him with her clear eyes-. May I-
-Go ahead-. She nodded before he’d finish his sentence. Jacaerys presses his lips, sighing through his nose while looking and her-. As soon as you’re done, we’re off-. She closes her eyes, resting her head on the table. She hard silence-. Go, now!-. The princess ordered with a funny playful voice.
-Alright-, Jacaerys sighed, turning around, and walking away from the table.
After closing the doors behind him, the prince felt his knees shaking. He covers his own mouth and closes his eyes, moaning as lowly as he could. With a hand, he touches his pants, feeling how hard his cock is. It has been like that even before seeing his wife’s womanhood.
Knowing that there is no time to start thinking about what just happened, Jacaerys quickly directed himself to the High Hall of The Eyrie, standing firmly. And, when he arrived, Lady Jeyne Arryn turned her head to look at him, from her seat.
-My prince-, she raises her brows and smiles when seeing him arriving.
-My lady-, he nods, heading towards the throne with quickness. She parts her lips, tilting her head.
In less than ten seconds, she had prince Jacaerys kneeled in front of her, ready to satisfy her. Jeyne became almost nervous, raising her skirt with all the quickness of the Seven Kingdoms, easily giving herself to him.
Prince Jacaerys closed his eyes, and pretended this was Daera again. Lady Jeyne left out a moan within a second.
Meanwhile, Daera had stayed in the table of marble, lying on it while the breeze comes through the big windows of the lonely hall. Blinkless, she looks up, staring at the chandelier that hangs above of her.
Shocked, she gulps, lost in her mind.
She has just been unfaithful to Aemond. She cheated…
“No no no no, I didn’t!”, Daera quickly comes to her own defense, gulping. Come on, come oooon! It wasn’t cheating. “It was for the cause!”, she convinces herself, “Lady Jeyne Arryn is a woman of specific desires, that shall have them accomplished if they want her to do something” Daera knows this, Daera knows this woman. This was necessary!
She didn’t cheat on Aemond as much as she didn’t either back on King’s Landing, when she made Jace cum on his pants. It was for a…cause…as well. “Everything has been justified”, she swears.
But, being the truth unbeknownst to Daera's wish of feeling innocent, she lusted for Jace, during those prior moments. A huge part of her wishes to denies it, and does it. However, one can't never be too alone to not hear oneself. The Rogue Princess knows she desired her fake husband.
Oh, she wanted him. She wanted for them to do it. She felt so good when she grabbed his hair and violently made him to kneel on the floor to face her cooch. It felt so good to feel his breathing on her flesh, to have his tongue on her flower. It felt good, hells, didn’t it?
…Why?
With her brows curved, Daera gulps and blinks with shame, looking at the ceiling of the hall. Why did I -she started to wonder- if am a married woman, enjoy to have another’s mouth on my femininity?
Is it because of how betrayed she feels by Aemond? Did a part of her want to…betray him back? Is that it? This is her first possible answer.
In the last few days -which have passed too quick for her liking- her true husband has made sure to do evil doings, to act as the devil himself. Aemond had obliged her to abort her baby. He conspired against the crown, when his father's corpse had not even cooled, along his mother and allies. He placed Aegon in the throne, stealing Rhaenyra and Jace’s birthright. He had Rhaenys locked right below his apartments, probably left to starve if she didn't declare for Aegon, and he didn’t care.
Daera has been hurted by him time by time, every time worst, and yet she has showed incredible mercy from her heart, having defended him and think him good, despite his actions. However, perhaps a part of her did want to punish him for them. That part, it seems, is the very one that was incessantly burning for prince Jacaerys moments ago.
So, following this logic: she wanted to betray him too then, to be about. But here is where the logic falls: to what end? How is Aemond even supposed to know he has been betrayed by his wife? What, will she fly to King’s Landing midst war and shovel it to her face? Is Jace going to tell him? Hells no! There’s no way this “desire of justice” would be fulfilled, because Aemond won’t feel the same way as her, because he wouldn’t know it.
This takes us to her second possible answer, which she translated more into a question.
Is this her nature? To run to another man’s arms when things with him are bad? Another man’s tongue, better said. Is…is Daera the same girl she was before loving Aemond? Carefree and from bed to bed? She had never been with someone into a love relationship until she got into one with Aemond. He may not be her first lover but he’s indeed her first love.
Could it be that, now that she feels like she’s losing him, she knows she has the right to desire others?
Daera immediately gasped before her thoughts, feeling a great pain on her chest.
NO! She is not like that, she knows it! “I am not some harlot and I am not losing Aemond!”, she convinces herself of. No one can gainsay her. She made herself to erase every prior thought she had, and declared the truth answer to what happened with Jace:
It was for the cause.
The princess furrows her brows lightly when she started to hear moans from outside the hall, traveling through the hallways. They were female and very indecent, coming from the High Hall of the castle.
Daera tsks her tongue, rolling her eyes with a very bitchy face.
Oh, for the fuck’s sake! The moans started to get louder and louder, until the doors of the hall were almost trembling. Daera grunted with annoyance and had to cover up her ears, cursing in High Valyrian.
“I at least moan with grace”, the princess thinks, “this one does like a goat”.
■ ■ ■
Jeyne Arryn, Lady and Maiden of The Vale, kneel on the floor with grace and delicacy. She bowed her head and softly opened her arms to the sides of her body, having a light smile on her lips.
Jacaerys and Daera stand in front of her, side to side, looking down at her with prideful eyes. The princes start to look around when noticing all the knights of the surrounding kneeling as well. The Maester did too, and some servants in presence did the same.
Daera smirks, pressing her lips, and nodding at them.
Lady Jeyne raised her head, looking up to them with her glowing blue eyes. She looked at the prince, giving a slow blink. He gulped briefly, nodding at her. And lastly looked at the princess, widening her smile a bit more. Daera looked down at her with easiness but yet a little of taunt, biting her cheeks.
Still on her knees, Lady Arryn opened her mouth.
-The Vale is yours, my princes-. She declared, having faith in them, and in their mother's cause.
Jacaerys parted her lips, and Daera smirked with hers, deeply breathing in. She turns her head, and he did so as well, blinking multiple times with excitement.
The princes stared at each other with pride, and a big feeling of achievement.
■ ■ ■
Soon, Daera and Jace were arriving back to the woods. Jeyne became a little disappointed when learned that the princes weren’t staying the night, but was glad to see them off, knowing they had others pressing business. She gifted them two baskets of bread, cheese, ham and grapes. And a generous bottle of wine, for their troubles.
When feeling their riders close, both Kalistrox and Vermax lifted up their heads, glancing through the trees. And there they saw them, arriving while laughing between them. The golden dragon purred with a sweet hurry, shaking his neck.
The princess looked up when she heard them, and instantly laughed harder.
-Hey!-. She raises her eyebrows and scrunches her nose, almost running towards him. Jacaerys sided a smile, nearing to his dragon as well-. My love-, she whispers, caressing his neck’s scales while he touched a cheek against one of hers, purring.
-How did you behave?-. The prince asks funnily, scratching Vermax’s chin, making him to growl with softness.
Daera hums while caressing Kalistrox’s cheek, seeing his golden eyes looking around constantly, narrowing them while groaning.
-They don’t like the woods-. The princess points out, sighing. Jace does so as well, slowly walking away from his dragon after carrying one of the baskets on his saddle. When noticing he wanted to talk, she raised a hand towards her own dragon, and also stepped away from him. Kalistrox purrs lowly, seeing her go-. Could you imagine how dangerous it would be to raise dragons in a forest?-, she wonders, crossing her arms.
-A catastrophe-, he agrees, nearing to her with calm steps. The sun still lights above them, passing through the green leaves of around-. That’s why there’s sand in the Dragonpit-. He recalls with a smile, raising his brows.
-Ah-, she lets a laugh out, nodding. They laughed together.
While the breeze caressed their skin, clothes and manes, the spouses look at each other for some moments of silence. All they could hear was the wind, and their dragons’ breaths. She smiles a little, taking air in.
-How was it?-, she questions. The subject of the question was obvious, for the prince immediately sighed through his nose, and looked around with nerves.
-She is definitely sort of…a savage soul…-, he narrowed his eyes while his cheeks started to burn red. Daera laughed with taunt, nodding. Chuckling lowly, he looks at his feet and the grass under them, stepping on it. Seconds then, he looks up, finding her eyes-…Thank you for teaching me-, he murmured.
Daera’s purple eyes softened, and a light smirk crossed her lips while looking at him. The part of her that we were speaking of before started to get awaken again, for she briefly felt that desire again.
When she became aware of it, she gulped and smiled, pressing her lips and taking a step back while caressing an arm of his with gentleness.
-I’m afraid they will like the North far less-, she changed the subject back to the former one, raising her brows and cocking her head towards the dragons-. Jacaerys looked at her with softness, pressing his mouth too.
-Then we shall part now-. He proposed, lifting his chin-. So, they don’t last longer in it-, he says.
-Ah, we agree-. She winked an eye on him, making him to laugh briefly. Daera chuckles, starting to walk backwards-. Go on-, she cocks her head and he starts heading to his dragon as well-. We’re halfway home now, can you believe it?-. She chuckles.
-I can-. Jacaerys laughs with pride, jumping onto his saddle.
After accommodating the basket with her luggage, Daera took seat on her saddle, seating on it with a playful smirk while looking ta him. Holding his ropes, Jacaerys smiled back at her, biting the inner of his cheeks.
Before leaving The Eyrie, the princes asked Lady Jeyne for ink, paper and a raven. As The Rogue Princess and the Heir to The Iron Throne took the skies again with their dragons, a raven black as night left The Vale towards south, flying to Dragonstone, to deliver the Blacks word of they having wined The Kingdom of Mountain and Vale to their side.
And so, having the confidence that good news will arrive to their family, Jace and Daera rose up with their dragons together, again, flying as one, at the same altitude and speed, ruling the clouds and sun with their power.
They didn’t know bad news were almost to their way to Dragonstone too.
■ ■ ■
Kalistrox and Vermax fly low, making the breeze that reach them a little softer and kinder. Golden and green dragon both soar over a small-sized yet deep clean lake, which waters are almost like glass; it is clean, calm and transparent.
Leaning to a side, seated on her saddle, princess Daera turned her head and looked down, having a sight of the fishes than swims under the water, almost at the same speed they fly to. The princess giggled with sweetness, wrinkling her eyes.
Pines and all kinds of trees seem to be never-ending in The Vale. They have been flying for nearly three hours, and that green sight of leaves has been under them during all of them. This is not called The Kingdom of Mountain and Vale for nothing.
With a smirk on his lips, prince Jacaerys looks forwards while narrowing his eyes. He couldn’t find the river’s end, which made him to giggle with excitement, now wanting to follow the water’s way until reaching its last drop.
Having that goal in mind, he turns to look at his right. There, in the distance, Daera was smiling while looking at the water. Soon enough, she felt his stare, and seated back straight on her saddle to stare back at him.
They shared a look, and smiled to each other with warmth.
They looked at each other until a peculiar sound came to their ears: screams. Though they were not screams of fright, nor of hatred or bravery. They were screams of awe. Screams from…children.
Daera blinked with hope, and looked down again. By flying so low, her eyes easily found a group of kids, five of them, all yelling towards the sky with surprise and excitement, shocked by the magnificent view above of them.
By the river’s bank, the children jumped on their places and waved their hands towards The Golden Ray and Vermax, mesmerized by how the sun was shining on their scales and how the former’s wings were so large that the sun was no longer reaching their smiling cheeks.
As her dragon kept flying, undisturbed by those happy shrieks and salutes, princess Daera blinked with open eyes while a smile started to grow in her lips. Moments then, she grunted a laugh and pulled her saddle, looking down to the ground. Kalistrox immediately obeyed her, growling lowly, and turning around his huge body.
Curious, and smiling as well, Jacaerys pulled the ropes of his dragon too, and made him to turn. They followed, by far, with curiosity.
The children walk backwards with open mouths and shocked eyes, loosen up their shoulders and whole bodies when they see the golden dragon was heading right towards them. Kalistrox flapped his wings with slowness, calculating his landing. Meanwhile, on his back, Daera shushed him and caressed his scales.
Seconds then, The Golden Ray landed on the very river, fitting only less than half of his body, due to its shortness. The lake, deep enough, covered the dragon up to before what would be his knees. Kalistrox purred. Liking the feeling of mud and water on his huge paws and claws.
The five kids blinked with awe, mouth-opened, seeing how a brown-skinned lady of white long curly hair and purple eyes smiled at them from the back of the dragon, who opened one of his wings and extended it until reaching ground. The children walked three steps back, feeling the beast’s golden eyes always staring at them.
-Hello!-, a sweet voice came out of that woman’s mouth-. Hi to everyone!-. She chuckles, starting to walk on the wing her dragon has just placed for her.
-Ah! You’ll hurt him!-. One of the kids, a small brown-skinned girl -of perhaps five- gasped with worriness when seeing her stepping on the wing. Daera raised her brows towards her.
-Ouh no, I won’t-. The princess assures her, unconsciously walking slower-. See? I’m not!-. She laughs, leaning to a side to caress Kalistrox’s wing. The children hear his purr, and it made that little girl to chuckle with amusement.
Daera’s feet touched still ground, arriving in front of the children, separated by a modest distance. They looked at her with eyes filled of curiosity, and she looked back at them with gentleness, almost capable of touching their sweet enthusiasm and innocence.
-He is very strong-. The princess comments, raising her brows and pointing towards the golden dragon, whom they stared at with marvel, giggling a little.
-What is his name?-, one of the boys asked. He’s white as milk, and of brown eyes.
-His name is Kalistrox-, Daera answered with pride and softness.
-And what is yous?-, another of the girls, this one if pale skin, asks with curiosity.
The brown-skinned princess smiles kindly, looking at the five of them with easiness.
-My name is Daera-. She answered, starting to walk towards them, who smiled at her-. Now, I wish to know what are yours-. Her brows raised funnily, while her lips smiled warmly as the children approached to her.
As the day is almost reaching its end and welcoming night, the skies are dyed by a lovely color orange, and the clouds shaped like hearts and arrows -if we have some imagination-. The dusk at presence is a beautiful one, blessing those underneath it, in that river.
Prince Jacaerys landed Vermax on the other side of the lake, on firm ground. His young dragon purrs with calmness, thanking there was not a tree near enough to bother his comfort. Behind his green scaled tail, however, pines are plenty.
Jace came down of his dragon with calmness, standing on the grass with a relaxed posture. He sighed through his nose, caressing Vermax’s neck while looking across the river, looking at her.
Daera has taken seat on a rock that works well enough as a chair. Her legs are crossed, and on there the littlest girl is seated, the white one of blue eyes, whose name is Jocelyn.
There’s Jocelyn, the youngest one, of four. There’s Isaiah, of six, chestnut of brown eyes. There’s Marli, the brown girl, and her twin brother, Kezzie, of five.
-And where did you hear that?-, Daera scrunches her nose and smiles, looking at the girl on her knees, who had just told her that she knows dragons are from the moon.
-My mother told me-, the girl chuckled with pride.
Daera giggled, showing all of her teeth. She can’t help but to think of her Alyssa and her Visenya; two babes she never got to meet. She wonders if they would have been as sweet as this one, Jocelyn, is.
The princess, with no bother at all, has opened her ears to the children, hearing all the myths, tales and theories they have hard about dragons. This is the first time any of them have ever seen one, and they excited; she’s delighted to listen.
While seeing her laugh, Jacaerys walks from the other side with a thoughtful smile. With calmness, he’s walking to the other side, heading to a path of stones that help to cross the river by foot.
-Would you like some sweets, children?-. The princess asks with a curious smile, immediately receiving cheering and positives answers from the children, who quickly said yes-. You shall have them then-, she laughs, making a sign with two fingers towards Kalistrox.
The golden dragon growls lowly, and starts to extend his neck towards her with slowness. The children squealed with excitement, seeing how Kalistrox’s head was feet above of them when he neared his body to his rider.
-Seven heavens-, Kezzie whispered with awe.
Princess Daera laughs lightly, heading a hand towards the luggage packed near his neck. She opened a small pocket of one of the bags, and took a handful of honey sweets.
-Here you have-, she offers them to them, who instantly cheered and took al the mints, tasting their sweetness with happy smiles.
-Thank you!-, the little Jocelyn smiles as she tastes her sweet.
-You are very welcome, sweetling-. Daera chuckles, caressing the girl’s brown hair with softness.
Kalistrox started to growl from the deepness of his throat, staring forward with menace. Hearing him, Daera quickly turns her head towards the wood, parting her lips.
-Behind me-, she is quick to order, and the children were quick to obey, though they did it with confusion.
Agitated sounds come from the woods, and moments then a handful of armored knights came out from there, galloping with swiftness and distress, looking alerted. Daera pressed her lips, and Kalistrox immediately growled, lifting his head higher while looking down at them with fire on his eyes.
Jocelyn smiled to them.
-Daera-. Jace shot out running immediately towards there, feeling his heart twitching when looking at the armed men arriving.
The knights had come out of the woods with fierce, but quickly trembled when looking to the beast standing on the river, and raising to look at them with even more fierceness and menace. All the men trembled, and two fainted within the second, not having expected the sight of The Golden Ray when riding out of the forest.
-Ouh, well-. Daera tsks her tongue when seeing those two fainted on the floor. She sees the other men stuttering and trembling, forever looking at her beast. She holds Jocelyn tighter to her chest, not knowing who this people were-. Lykiri…-, the princess ordered to her dragon, who growled with fury, nevertheless.
-Daera!-, Jace reaches her, at last, standing right by her side, shielding the children as well, and looking at the knights with seriousness-. Make thy selves known!-. He ordered with firmness, while his wife just looked at them from feet to toe with interest.
-Hya!-
-Quick!-
Two screams are heard from the woods. Jace stands tensely, while Daera remains seated on that stone, rocking Jocelyn on her knees, simply studying the people and the situation itself. Her golden dragon, as fierce as always, studies nothing, and only waits for a command of hers. ´
Soon enough, two more men and their horses come out of the woods, but these are not knights as the other are. They wear fine clothes, fine boots, fine gloves, and a fine perfume. They’re lords, of course.
And out of those two faces, the princess Daera recognized one.
When the lords arrive, with worried expressions, they see Isaiah, Kezzie and Marli shielded by a brown-haired young man, and Jocelyn seated on a woman’s knees. A woman of brown skin, purple eyes and white curls that looked at them with serenity and curiosity, blinking one time.
One of the two lords is slim, chestnut, and eyes as brown as Isaiah’s. Aye, she kens who this man is. She met him years ago, on a trip she did with her grandmother, Rhaenys, to Lannisport. This is Leowyn Corbray, lord of Heart’s Home, a vassal house holding fealty to House Arryn of the Eyrie.
-Lord Corbray-, the white-haired woman greeted, siding a smirk.
-Princess Daera-. Gasping, the lord quickly bowed his head, full of respect. When hearing the girl’s name, and obviously having seen her looks, the other lord opened his mouth with surprise, now knowing who she was-. It is an honor, princess, to…make your acquaintance, once again-. He nods, looking at her again.
-It is indeed-. She leaned her head to a side, caressing Jocelyn’s hair-. This is my husband, prince Jacaerys Velaryon-. She presented him with a nod, placing a hand on his arm.
-An honor, my prince-. Lord Corbray bowed his head, as did the other one. Jace nods towards them with the same respect, holding his hands behind his back-. My princes, may I present to you…Lord Desmond Manderly, of White Harbor-. He speaks with manner, pointing at him.
-My princes, it is a high honor to meet you both-. Lord Manderly closed his eyes and bowed his head to them.
Daera and Jace looked at each other within a second with their lips parted when hearing where this lord is from. The North. White Harbor, the main seaport of the north. House Manderly, a vassal house holding fealty to House Stark of Winterfell…just where they’re heading.
-Lord Manderly, the honor is ours-. Prince Jacaerys says with a gentle nod, looking at him, and then at his wife for a second.
-It is-, she nods as well. Everyone keeps constantly eyeing Kalistrox, both marveled and terrified of his size and fiery eyes. He had retreated a bit since his rider told him to, but yet he doesn’t fail to shake all of their spirits, and knees-. We’re at Heart’s Home then, I take-. She guesses.
-We are, princess-. Lord Corbray answered.
-Ah-, the girl nods-. Why so far from home, Lord Manderly? If I may ask-. Daera questions with curiosity, narrowing her eyes for a moment.
-Lord Manderly has come to see to the arrangements of a settlement between our Houses-. Lord Corbray was the one to answer with politeness, making the princes to look at him with interest. He eyed Isaiah and Jocelyn for a second-. You see, we are to betrothe our youngest children-. He explained, raising his brows.
-Ah…-, Daera narrowed her eyes, while Jacaerys nodded-. Do not tell. This is your child?-. She questions, placing a hand on Isaiah’s head, who chuckled while looking at Lord Corbray, who smiled briefly.
-He is, princess-. He nodded, and then the boy ran to him, giggling. Daera formed a little smiled, which she chewed and erased, keeping a calm expression.
-Father!-. Copying his friend, Jocelyn jumped down from Daera’s knees, and ran towards the lords with an open smile, soon hugging Lord Manderly’s right leg. Daera raised her brows briefly, as did Jace, now understanding.
-And whose children might you be?-. Jacaerys mumbles with interest, turning to look at the brown-skinned twins, who looked at him with shyness.
-They are my cousin’s children, my princes-. Lord Corbray answered, then looking at Kezzie and Marly-. Your mother has been looking for you, twins-. He reproached, raising his brows. They just shrugged and laughed.
Daera breathes in and then sighs, quietly standing up from that stone, taking Jace’s side. She looks at the knights for some moments, noticing they were eyeing her as well. She found a smitten smirk behind one of those helmets, which made her to scoff.
-And you, my princes?-. Lord Manderly, with eyes as cold as the very White Harbor, look curiously at them-. Enjoying the warmth of The Vale as well?-, he wonders.
The princes both pressed their lips. They looked at each other, sideways, for two silent seconds. After them, Lord Corbray spoke.
-Though no raven has arrived to Heart’s Home from the capital, my eldest son has, this morning. He brought with him…grieving news, my princes-. Lord Corbray speaks with glum and respect, looking down. Jacaerys and Daera remain serious, staring at them-. We lament the death of our King…Viserys-, he said.
The wedded princes gulped and pressed their lips. They saw how Manderly made a similar expression to Lord Corbray’s, one of pity. Daera breathed in profoundly, looking around to the knights, the kids, the winds and the sun.
-I propose we find a more fitting place to treat such…troubling matters-. The princess said with determination, raising her brows towards the lords. By her side, her husband gulped, thinking of her passed grandsire, and the impostor that has taken his throne.
-We shall-. Lord Corbray was quick to agree, firmly nodding-. Please-, he pointed the way for the Valyrian princes.
■ ■ ■
Heart’s Home posses a castle of great height and beauty. It is of white marble, as most of the castles in The Vale. It is located on a mountain, of course, just behind the same woods of the river from before.
Turns out that Jocelyn, Lord Manderly’s youngest daughter, and her newly-betrothed, Isaiah, Lord Corbray’s youngest son, decided to gone out to play with their friends without notifying anyone. As soon as their parents became aware of their “disappearance”, they alerted the guards, who immediately went out to look for them.
As we saw before, the guards did find the children, only that they were not alone. It came of surprise to everyone to have the princes Daera and Jacaerys on Heart’s Home, with their dragons, calmly chilling by the side of the river, and playing with the young lords and ladies.
Now, after being formally welcomed in the Great Hall of Heart’s Home, the princes were escorted to another hall, a big one with big three windows, a wooden table of six chairs, and multiple paints of the castle and Vale itself. Only princess Daera, prince Jacaerys, Lord Corbray and Lord Manderly entered the room, besides two guards that joined them.
The spouses are seated side to side, and in front of them, the lords are too. In front of all of them, a warm nice supper is served, though none has eaten yet. The guards stand in the gates of the room, totally silent, as if they were not there.
Lord Corbray plays with his fingers, having a thoughtful look on his face. Lord Manderly thinks too, slowly blinking. In front of them, Jacaerys and Daera stare at them with quietness and silence, letting them think.
Both lords have just been informed that House Arryn -The Vale’s ruling house- had just swore loyalty to the princes’ mother, the Queen Rhaenyra. A paper lies in the table, being read time after time by the lords. It is Lady Jeyne Arryn’s handwriting, affirming her fealty to House Targaryen and the course of its true line of succession, which belongs to The Blacks.
They’re treating more with Lord Corbray than with Lord Manderly, being this his land. They’re letting him know, of course, that his lady paramount has joined to their cause. Almost obligatory he has to do the same. And, doubtless, he will.
-Dragonriders will be send here, to The Vale, to protect your lands and your families from any attack coming by green hands-. Princess Daera speaks with honesty, raising her brows. Lord Corbray caresses the paper, drawing the letters with his fingers while looking at her.
-Dragons in The Vale?-, he whispered, not hiding his surprise. Lord Manderly blinked with the same feeling, briefly clearing his throat.
-Aye-, the prince nods-. Your joining to our cause will be answered with both protection and gratitude from us-. He assures. He’s slouched, with his elbows on the table. By his side, his wife seats lady-like, with her hands on her legs.
Lord Corbray presses his lips, and looks at the both of them. Those purple Valyrian eyes of the princess stared at him with expectance and quietness. The prince’s brown ones are the same. The lord sits straight, breathing in.
-House Corbray will stand with you-. Lord Corbray dictated with decision. The princess started to side a smile, while prince Jacaerys looked at him with high respect. Lord Desmond listens closely-. Heart’s Home will be by your side, do not doubt it, should it come to war-. He declared, heartfully.
-You honor us, Lord Corbray-. Jace nodded, clenching his jaw.
-The Queen will repay your great disposition, my lord, you can be sure-. Daera smiles with gratitude, blinking calmly. Lord Corbray nodded towards the two of them, keeping a confident expression.
After a few seconds of silence, both princes directed their eyes towards the same person. Lord Desmond Manderly. He instantly became aware, and pressed his lips tight, not scared of eye contact.
“His turn”, Daera thinks.
Jacaerys taps his fingers on the table with softness, while the princess opened her mouth and narrowed her eyes.
-I have heard that…the Lord of White Harbor always arrives to the hall with a big laugh-, Daera raises her brows, and places her elbows on the table-. Does the distance from your house make you this silent, my lord?-. She questions with curiosity.
-No, it makes me this preoccupated, princess-. He answered with a hoarse voice, thoughtful. The confession surprised the princes and the other lord.
-What troubles you, lord Desmond?-. Daera mumbles with interest, leaning her head to a side. Manderly sighs heavily through his nose, staring at his supper, but feeling no hunger for it.
-My appetite is gone-, he says-. I came out from the walls of my city to find peace in this warm forest…for me to be with my children, and for my children to be with their sire-. Lord Manderly takes and caresses his fork, briefly raising his brows under their interested gazes-. What I find outside of my city’s walls…-he looks up at them-…is a war between kin-. The lord sighed with tiredness, letting the work to fall on the table.
Daera hided it, but she shivered in that moment. She thought about Jace, Daemon and Baela. Then she thought of Aemond, Aegon and Daeron. She thought of every member of the family, even of Alicent. It is as the lord says. They are one family, but of two sides. As it has always been…
-No war is taking place, Lord Manderly, with all due respect-. Jacaerys shook his head from side to side-. We are just taking caution, and assuring whose and which houses will be by our side if…-he gulps-…if the dispute reaches a peak-. He clarifies.
Lord Manderly blinks slowly while looking at the both of them, and then he scrunches his nose.
-In the North, kinslaying is cursed-. He commented with seriousness.
-It is everywhere-. Jacaerys instantly nods-, under the eyes of every god-. He raises his brows, recalling that, in the North, they worship the Old Gods.
-Blood from no Targaryen vein has been spilled-. Daera states with confidence, making the three man to look at her-, and neither will be, if The Greens see and realize that they do not stand a chance against us, if they see we have both The Vale and The North with us-. The princess stressed “The North” and raised her eyebrows, continuously tapping a finger on the table to get her point straight.
Lord Manderly breathed in, and then closed his eyes, briefly shaking his head and calmly standing up from his chair under the sight of all. He walks slowly, looking outside the windows. Jace and Daera presses their lips with patience.
-I am not the Lord of The North-. He shakes his head, sighing briefly. Daera hums lowly, clenching her jaw-. And you have come to The Vale looking for The Vale’s response. Here, I am only a coincidence-. He states, shrugging-…Why would you even want to convince me?-, his eyes narrow, speaking with humbleness.
Proud as fuck, this one is. Daera turned to look at Jace when he stood from the table too. The sound of the chair made Lord Manderly to turn, seeing prince Jacaerys rising with confidence while looking at him.
-Each flag that can fly next to ours is important, and for yours we would be eternally grateful, Lord Manderly-. The Heir to the Iron Throne spoke firmly, standing besides the seat of his wife, who looks at the lord with crystal serious eyes-. As we speak, we have Winterfell as our next stop, and there we’ll treat with the Guardian of The North-, he assured, surprising both lords.
-You’ll uh…speak with Stark too?-. Manderly questions with surprise, fully turning to him.
-Personally-. Jace quickly nodded-. And it would be a great honor to start our join to Winterfell by having the support of Lord Cregan Stark’s greatest lord vassal-. The prince declares with seriousness, nodding three times.
Lord Manderly looked down after blinking, thoughtful and flattered, most than all flattered. He hums lowly, constantly touching his white moustache. Prince Jacaerys waits patiently for him to think but, after a few moments, princess Daera stood up from her chair within a second, doing it fiercely and decided.
-We understand your fear about kinslaying, Lord Manderly. Trust me, we do-. She heartily nodded. She did kind of tell a lie, for her greatest wish has always been to murder her cousin, Aegon. “Who cares if I lie, anyways?”-. The last thing we wish for is war, but the first thing we want is the birthright of Queen Rhaenyra to be given to her, properly. But is has been plucked away by the usurpers-. Princess Daera speaks with courage, walking some steps pass her husband, who looked at her back with passion, agreeing with her words. Desmond reads her face whole, thinking-…We need you, my Lord-. She slowly declared, staring at him.
Lord Corbray sighed, more than convinced by the princes’ words. Pass some silent seconds, Lord Manderly came to speak.
-White Harbor is not unsympathetic to your mother’s plight-. Manderly declared, opening his hands towards them-. Mine own forebears were despoiled from their birthright when our enemies drove us into exile on those cold northern shores-. The lord remembers, narrowing his eyes for some seconds-. When the Old King visited us so long ago, he spoke of the wrong that had been done to us and promised to make redress-. Desmond tells with his hoarse thoughtful voice.
Jacaerys and Daera listen carefully to him, hearing his story. Lord Corbray does the same, interested too in the tale of his friend.
-In pledge of that, His Grace offered the hand of his daughter Viserra to my great-grandsire, that our two houses might be made as one…but the girl died, and the promise was forgotten…-, he spoke with a kind of shame and pity, pressing his lips to then sigh.
And, understanding what was being asked of them, the princes realized they are facing a bargainer shrewder than Lord Corbray. Daera gulped, turning her head to look at Jace, who bit his cheeks and also looked at her. They stare at each other in silence, talking with their eyes.
The spouses were quick to decide that they must do what it must be done, for the sake of their family and their safeness. So, moments later, the princes stared at the awaiting lord back again, at the same time.
-I understand that you have two younger daughters, Lord Manderly-. Prince Jacaerys says, walking forward-. The youngest, Jocelyn, will marry Lord Corbray’s youngest son, am I correct?-. He raises his eyebrows, reaching his wife’s side, who briefly tilted her head.
-Indeed-, Desmond quickly nodded, interested. Daera gulps, crossing her hands over her plain belly.
-We have a little brother, Joffrey, the same age as your other daughter-. The princess says with firmness, and his lord’s eyes began to shine. Jacaerys breathed slowly, closing his eyes for a second-. Joff will marry your daughter, as soon as all the fuss is over, and Rhaenyra seats the throne-. She declared.
And, so, Lord Manderly let out a big laugh.
-We have a compact-. Desmond vividly nods, approaching to them. Jace smiled slightly, while Daera just nodded-. Now that is worth fighting a war for-. He snickers with confidence, narrowing his eyes.
The brown-skinned princess blinks slowly, traveling in time for a second, and remembering when she herself was forced into a betrothal, to Jace. She couldn’t help but gulp, thinking that she’s now doing the same for her lovely and innocent Joffrey. “He’s so young” she sorrowed. But perhaps that is for the best… And it indeed is for their cause.
Gaining back her posture, Daera breathes in and comes out of her mind. When she does so, she looked down, finding Lord Manderly kneeling before the two of them. She parted her lips, nearly smiling, and narrowing her eyes.
-Your mother’s birthright will be recovered, and we shall have our Queen-. Lord Desmond said with determination, looking up at them. Jacaerys clenches his jaw-. I swear to you the fealty of my men, my house, and my soul-. He promised, truthful, not blinking once.
Prince Jacaerys and princess Daera breathed in with deepness, staring at the lord in silence. Seconds then, they turned their heads to look at each other. When glancing at the other’s eyes, they found similarities. They’re shining. Pridefully and victoriously.
■ ■ ■
The princes weren’t staying the night at Heart’s Home -even though it is already dark-. They would fly until reaching The Neck, where they would make camp and feed their dragons. Afterwards they’ll head to Winterfell.
When the two lords at presence learned of the princes’ plans, they both made their own contribution.
Lord Corbray gave them warm furs and bed sheets, along a basket of fresh bread and salted meat, for them to find as much comfort as possible in their camp. Personally, he gifted a wee silver dagger to the princess, even though she already had one on her belt. She thanked him, and promised him to let him know how she’d name it when she’d find the proper alias.
Lord Manderly took the trouble to redact a letter and send it with a raven towards Winterfell immediately. In the paper, he announces the Valyrian princes’ arrival to the Guardian of the North, Cregan Stark. As his greatest lord vassal, Desmond knew his lord would appreciate the heads up. The raven will arrive first than the princes, for they will make their stop at some point. Nevertheless, the bird won’t.
The day has officially ended; thus, the night has officially arrived. One day. One day, and Jace and Daera won for their side the fealty and loyalty of three big houses of Westeros.
That was something that Kalistrox and Vermax celebrated when, once again, they took off from the ground, and continued their voyage again.
Both dragons shriek loudly and sharply as they soar with fastness above that river. The moon shines right above their heads, lightning all the surroundings and whereabouts beautifully. Older and younger dragon fly side by side for some moments, until Vermax roared and flapped his wings faster, taking off to the heights. On the other hand, Kalistrox flew even lower.
The Golden Ray roared with power, caressing the water with his wings as he flapped them on it two times. Water splashed on Daera’s face, and she laughed heartily when that happened, having a bright smile on her lips, and a great shine on her purple eyes.
The princess chuckled and pulled her saddle, scrunching her nose. Kalistrox shrieked and immediately dipped his body high and higher into the skies of above. He flaps his wings with fastness, quickly getting away of the river, of the woods, of a soft breeze.
A strong wind blows on the princess’ face, and she laughs while crossing cloud after cloud, until her dragon gave a harsh flap an got them out of them. They reached a clear dark sky, to which Vermax welcomed them with a happy shriek. Kalistrox roared back with the same greeting, shaking his long neck.
The prince Jacaerys turned to look at his right with a smile on his face and red on his cheeks. Princess Daera did the same, flying right by his side while looking at him while giggling, having her hands in the air, all perfectly lighted by the blessed moon of this day.
Daera licked her lips, and Jace pressed his, the both doing it with high pride. They felt it in the air as they looked at each other, it is obvious. They are a perfect match. A powerful couple.
They will win the Seven Kingdoms back.
The spouses blink, and turned their heads to stare forward, having the same pride on their eyes while riding their dragons. They faced the moon, more than ready to face everything that their next and last destination could give them.
Winterfell.
■ ■ ■
Had their brother’s “shorter, safer” flight gone as well, much bloodshed and grief might well have been averted.
The tragedy that befell Lucerys Velaryon at Storm’s End was never planned, on this we can all agree. The first battles in the Dance of the Dragons were fought with quills and ravens, with threats and promises, decrees and blandishments.
The murder of Lord Beesbury at the green council -by the hands of Ser Criston- was not yet widely known; most believed his lordship to be languishing in some dungeon. Whilst sundry familiar faces were not seen about court, no heads had appeared above the castle gates, and many still hoped that the question of succession might be resolved peaceably.
The Stranger had other plans. For surely it was his dread hand behind the ill challenge that brought the two princelings together at Storm’s End, when the dragon Arrax raced before a gathering storm to deliver Lucerys Velaryon to the safety of the castle yard, only to find Aemond Targaryen there before him.
■ ■
#house of the dragon#targaryen#aemond targaryen#aemondtargaryen#the one eyed prince#ewan mitchell#rhaenyra targaryen#daera targaryen#hotd season 1#hotd#the dance of the dragons#dance of the dragons#preasoiaf#house targaryen
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