A/N: Hi guys. With today being the second anniversery of "The Bells," the most toxic thing written since the Turner Diaries, I think it's perfect to update this story!
I am so stoked by the love this story has gotten! Plenty more hilarity to come!
Be sure to check out all my other stories :D
Enjoy and comment!
"I'm nervous."
Daenerys arched an eyebrow. "The great Sun Dragon nervous? I should check the Fourteen Flames to see if they erupted again."
Rhaenys glared at her sister. "Fuck off, Dany… you know what I mean." The first time in four years that they would see their brother again. Everyone gathered at the rostrum below the Sept of Baelor felt the same apprehension - Prince Daemon had arrived in the city two days before, but as per tradition none were allowed to see him but the Hand. Fuck tradition, I want my brother back. Nothing had been the same without him by their side, especially since he had very nearly died in the North… many times.
"Shhhh!" Little Daena brought her fingers to her lips. "It's starting! It's starting!" Rhae laughed at her little sister's exuberance, ruffling her hair. "Hey!"
"That's what you get for being adorable, sis," Dany giggled… inside, she was just as excited as her though.
All conversation seemed to cease as a line of trumpeters on horseback suddenly turned the corner and appeared in view. They wore Targaryen colors and armor, blaring out their rhythmic, cheerful opening herald to the festivities.
"Bring the soldiers!" Arya heckled, drawing chuckles from the others as Ashara quieted her daughter. Given they had seen Rhaenys' triumph but moons before, there was no doubt as to the schedule of the procession. Through the streets would march the victorious army in their finery, receiving the adulation of the crowd and a generous stipend from the royal treasury - now flush with Myrish and Lysene gold.
The clatter of hooves only seemed to grow louder as the trumpeters peeled off to the side - continuing to herald the procession. Thousands of full-plated knights on horseback thundered in, Dany and Rhae recognizing the banners of the great houses of the Vale. Royce, Arryn, Grafton, Corbray… Some of the finest knights in all the realm. At the van rode Lord Yohn Royce and his eldest sons alongside Lord Paramount Elbert Arryn.
Each bowed in their saddles as they passed the King. "Your Grace."
Rhaegar rose his hand. "By the gods above, these Seven Kingdoms salute you." Tradition was kept, even with the royal family quite anxious and eager to see their long-lost son return.
Behind trotted the men of the Riverlands, grizzled infantry led by a line of undistinguished Lords. Rhaenys recognized Lord Darry, a close ally, as well as the Tully uncle and nephew. "Lady Catelyn's brother, no?" she asked Dany.
She nodded. "Aye, the dolt that makes his sister look smart." Both laughed at that. It wasn't a secret among the Targaryen household that Daenerys and Rhaenys had a low opinion of their aunt - if Edmure was stupider then god help House Tully… neither could hold a candle to how crazy their sister Lysa was. It was no wonder that Elbert Arryn's only children were bastards and that his nephew Ser Harrold Hardyng was the heir apparent to the vale. Who would sire children from her?
As the last of the Riverlands banners passed by, the main show as thought by Daenerys and her mother approached. "The Northmen," Rhaegar chuckled.
Lyanna clasped her hands together in delight. "There's Ned!" At once, she took Dany's hands in hers, the two direwolves hugging over shared relief over the quiet wolf's return.
Eddard Stark stood tall atop his destrider, leading a thousand men of House Stark. His direwolf Spirit trotted to the side, purely grey as the direwolf on their sigil. Lord Brandon had joined him, and the crowd screamed their approval of the mighty brothers of House Stark. Their Northern Queen's family were celebrities in the south, Lyanna joking that finally the First Men conquered the Andals.
"You can relax now, Ash," Elia whispered to her friend, who had visibly released all her tension.
Ashara closed her eyes, only for the honeyed lids to flutter back with a serene smile. "I'm just glad he's returned. I've missed him in our bed." The words made poor Arya gag - she did not want to think of her father in that manner.
Stark men marching by, both Brandon and Ned peeling off and dismounting. They knelt before the rostrum. "Your Graces, House Stark renews its fealty to the crown."
"Get up, you idiots," Lyanna snarled before Rhaegar could reply. Caring not for decorum, she skipped down the steps and launched herself into her brothers' arms. "Don't scare all of us like that again." Delighted laughs and happy tears abounded, especially as Ned was sandwiched between the two very tearful Dornishwomen he called wife and daughter.
More Northern houses passed by, heralded by heroes of the war. Smalljon Umber, the Mormont sisters, the bastard of Hornwood, Domeric Bolton… the cheers they received all paled when a large purple dragon passed overhead, roaring across the city. Rhaella's clenched heart released as beneath the wings of Tyraxes she saw her son Viserys - alive and unharmed.
Behind him were the surviving brothers of the Night's Watch, and all made the crowd go wild for them. "Thieves and cutthroats," mumbled Rhaenys to her sister.
Dany giggled. "Some of them were, and I heard they all died." These men stood tall and proud, led by the former Lord of Bear Island Jeor Mormont. Hot as it was, they were in their full black cloaks for ceremonial purposes - no one could fail to recognize the regalia of the Night's Watch.
"Wildlings!" The cry belonged to young Aemon, clapping his hands together. "Visenya!"
Sure enough, there was Dany's younger sister. My gods… Her own dragon Moondancer soaring above, Visenya Targaryen had gone from a lanky child much like Arya to a pure beauty of the North. Dark hair like their mother Lyanna, but vibrant eyes the color of amethysts that could enchant a man… or woman. She'd filled out with muscle and a trim figure just like Lyanna, carrying herself proudly. Beside her rode Gendry Baratheon, son and heir of Lord Stannis and Lady Cersei, the two looking quite close. Hmmmm…
The Princess was mobbed by her family. Rhaegar picked her up and twirled her around to more adulation from the crowd, while Elia and Lyanna fawned over their gorgeous daughter. "The sky has fallen," Rhaenys laughed, swatting her arm. "You've become me!"
"I look forward to besting you on the sparring court, sister," Visenya shot back with a twinkle in her eye, kissing Dany's cheek.
"Not in this lifetime." They all laughed.
While the sight of the many forces of the Realms of Men were so beloved by both the crowd and the royals, it was the wildlings that drew the greatest awe. Even to learned ones such as Dany or Arianne, this was the furthest south any tribe beyond the wall had ever made it, and the exotic quality threatened to rival Rhaenys' presentation of those of the Triarchy even if they were less gilded and gaudy.
Cause damned if they weren't strange.
Ser Robb Stark, Eddard and Ashara's son, accompanied a grizzled man dressed in furs. "Mance Rayder, King Beyond the Wall." Dany looked at him with interest, the man utterly devoid of the finery of royalty. "They only follow the strong and the cunning, not blood."
"If you ask me, I'd follow that bloodline anywhere," Ari breathed, pointing to a striking blonde behind Mance. She carried herself as a warrior with a large axe strapped to her belt, but there was no denying she was beautiful.
Rhaenys snickered. "Just your type, Ari." Not hers though. Even bleached, the hair was still too dark for Rhaenys' taste…
"Look at that one." Dany wrinkled her brows at a massive ginger wildling, acting as if a bombastic hedge knight winning the love of the crowd on tourney day. He walked rather than road, pumping two battle axes in the air for more and more cheers. "What's his deal?"
"Oh, that's Tormund," Visenya laughed. "He's quite the show, but he's also sweet and a great man to have watching your back."
"I'll be the judge of that," Rhaenys murmured.
By now, both Robb and Mance had reached the rostrum. Robb bent the knee, but Mance and his family refused. "Free Folk don't bend the knee," he commented dryly.
"No, I suppose you don't." Other kings might have reacted violently, but Rhaegar just extended his hand for Mance to clasp. "To peace between our people."
"Aye, to peace." The crowd ate it up.
But nothing could break the awed silence that overtook all of King's Landing. "Oh my gods…" Arya breathed. Dany's jaw dropped, while Rhaenys' eyes widened. Feet shaking the very ground beneath them as they plodded along, ten giants strode across the avenue. They were dressed in furs and carried an assortment of weapons, but there was no denying them.
"Jon found the giants," Dany said. "Of course he did." Gods, Missy was gonna flip out… probably badger Jon to let them teach her their special language. One of them rode atop a mammoth, trunk bellowing into the air - a sound that finally stirred the crowd as it shouted adulation.
"There he is!" Arya called out excitedly, causing the entire royal box to look out at the procession just as the last mammoth passed. If there was any doubt as to whom was finally parading down the massive avenue, the great shape of Balerion the Black Dread reborn roared over King's Landing, drawing a booming cheer from the crowd.
The Queens squeezed Rhaegar's hands, while Dany and Rhae hugged each other, all staring at the flower-lined street.
Trotting ahead of the four-horse chariot was the white-furred shape of Ghost - the Crown Prince's direwolf. Gasps were heard even from the royal box. Nothing but the runt of the litter when he travelled north with his master, Ghost had grown into a massive beast. Likely able to stand on all four of his legs and look Dany in the eye. The blood-red eyes that could make any man tremble were dampened by his tongue lolling out and tail wagging, soaking up the attention of the crowd as he preened and scampered. Dany giggled. Same Ghost we remember as a pup.
And then Jon appeared. Crown Prince Daemon Targaryen in all his glory. At the head of the chariot, his kingsguard Arthur Dayne and sworn sword Sandor Clegane on either side of him, he waved to the crowd with that perfect small smile of his. Children cheered, maidens swooned, wives… also swooned, while men were both envious and inspired by the great White Dragonwolf - Lightbringer and Victor of the Dawn. A crown of oak leaves rested on his raven curls, red cloak billowing out the back.
No other Targaryen since Daeron the Young Dragon had ever been granted such adulation from the smallfolk - Rhaegar came close when the dragons hatched, but the son had surpassed the father. From the proud smile and tears in his eyes, Rhaegar saw nothing wrong with that.
From their perch, Dany and Rhae could see the crowd's love. They could see the might of his entrance. But they didn't care, only looking at Daemon himself - their Jon, the little boy that they shared chambers with for the first eleven years. The boy they grew up with… he was a man now. Of course he had been powerful and dashing, but somehow he had changed in the North. Leaner, more powerful underneath the magnificent armor sporting the three-headed dragon of his house.
Jon went from handsome to absolutely stunning. A god made manifest.
But only Dany and Rhae noticed his eyes. The grey pools that sparkled with mischief and joy… they were hard. They were worn, as if a great sadness resided in him. What did he see? What did our poor brother endure in those frozen nights? Both Princesses trembled at the similar thoughts that filled their heads.
Chariot reaching the rostrum, Daemon dismounted, joined by Arthur and Sandor. He took the steps two at a time, cape fluttering behind him in the massive sea breeze till he reached the point just below his king father. They stood still, eyes locking. The triumphal crown of the Crown Prince meeting the ruby and Valyrian steel circlet of Aegon the Conqueror.
"Your Grace," Jon began, drawing Blackfyre from his sheath. "Kepa." Off came his oak leaves, resting in his hand as he presented both it and his blade for his father. "Your son returns from the North, having brought the dawn. I present you this blade and this token of my victory, an ever dutiful son."
Rhaegar frowned and stepped off his perch - walking till he was face to face with Jon. The two couldn't have looked any more different, one a dragonlord of Old Valyria and the other a King of Winter… but they were the same. Father and son, more alike than anyone could've ever imagined. "You need not surrender your glories for my sake, my son." And the composure broke, both men laughing brightly and embracing tightly. Still laughing, Rhaegar grabbed Jon's hand and hurled it into the air. "My son! Your Prince has returned!"
"Gods save the Lightbringer!" proclaimed Ser Arthur, voice loud.
"Lightbringer!" Ned Stark pounded his fist on his chest.
"Lightbringer!" chorused Prince Viserys and Lord Brandon, ever so proud of Jon.
"Lightbringer!" boomed Tormund Giantsbane and Mance Rayder out of the greatest respect.
The crowd didn't hesitate. "LIGHTBRINGER! LIGHTBRINGER! LIGHTBRINGER!"
Jon made his way through his family. Sparing no expense to lavish his siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles with attention that he had denied them during his three-year long campaign. A kiss was placed on Visenya's cheek and a tight shake for Viserys and Robb, those that fought and bled beside him in the furious blizzards. His munas cried as they hugged him, clucking over every scar like the loving parents they were to the delight of the crowd. Rhaella hugged him just as tightly, though with a little more decorum. Arya punched him in the side, demanding to be called on next for his wartime adventures. Laughing, Jon reciprocated with a promise.
And finally, at long last Jon reached where his sisters were standing. The two women he had been together with since the cradle… the ones who knew him the most thoroughly and whom he couldn't ever imagine not being in his life. It was truly empty in the frozen North without them. "Rhae… Dany…" even under all the regalia of a conquering hero, his voice still cracked with emotion. "I'm sorry…"
"Shut up." Dany's eyes were filled with tears. "You bloody idiot." And with that she threw her arms around him, burying her head in his chest.
Scowl affixed to her face, Rhaenys socked him in the arm, hard… but immediately embraced him tightly after that. Sniffling herself.
Jon just smiled, closing his eyes and accepting their hugs. All while the cheering crowd went wild for the three of them.
The three heads of the dragon as they were called, reunited at last.
"They danced through the day,
"And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall,
"From winter to summer and winter again,
"'Til the walls did crumble and fall."
The chandeliers were bedecked with what seemed to be every candle in King's Landing, joined by mounted lanterns on the walls of the great hall to bathe it in light. Over a thousand were gathered within, tens of thousands more reveling in the streets of the capitol to celebrate the coming of the Dawn. From within the roars of joyous festivity could be heard through the muted walls, but inside there was a silence over the gathered highborns and guests of the Crown. For everyone was riveted to the sight and sound of something quite rare.
Both King Rhaegar and Crown Prince Daemon were singing, serenading the feast together with their rendition of the song the former had composed himself.
They danced through the day
And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall
From winter to summer and winter again
'Til the walls did crumble and fall
The two were a study in contrasts, Rhaegar as light as the sun while Daemon - or 'Jon' as he was called in the North and by much of his family - as dark as night, but when they sang it was as if they were mere extensions of each other. Rhaegar's harp had made his beloved Queens fall in love with him the moment they heard him sing while strumming it, while years of practice in the lonely tents or igloos of the North or atop the Wall itself left Jon an expert with his lute. Their gentle voices echoed through the hall, and from the outside even the dragons stopped to listen.
"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave,
"Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave,
"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave,
"Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave."
For Lyanna and Elia, every time they heard their husband sing, their hearts fluttered and fell just a little more in love with him than they already had been… not to mention arousal burning in their cores. Not only a fierce warrior and a mighty dragonrider, but a smart, commanding, cultured man was Rhaegar Targaryen. The perfect husband, all wrapped up in the ethereal silver beauty that so inflamed their loins. Both knew many were jealous of them and relished in it.
But Rhaegar was long taken. The Crown Prince was unmarried and very much in play. His serene voice - essentially his father's but with a distinctive northern brogue that gave an exotic feel to him - the Queens and Queen Mother weren't blind to the attention Jon was getting from the maidens of the Realm. All looked at him as if he was a dream come true. The dashing knight and honorable Prince from the songs and stories all made manifest in one person. Captivated by his voice and his smoldering good looks, they wanted to be his Princess. They wanted to strip him and make love to him. They died to be his.
And, while they would clearly deny it, the same looks were mirrored in Rhae and Dany's eyes and mouths. No one could mistake theirs as a look of utter adoration and affection for their brother, least of all their mothers.
"High in the halls of the kings who are gone,
"Jenny would dance with her ghosts,
"The ones she had lost and the ones she had found,
"And the ones who had loved her the most."
It took a moment for the enchanted audience to grasp that the song ended, but soon everyone was clapping and cheering for the King and Crown Prince. Standing up from their stools, Rhaegar and Jon held hands and bowed graciously to the audience. Dany and Rhae immediately ran to their brother and kissed his cheek on each side - apart from now, the three were inseparable. Being forced to seat on the table just below the Iron Throne, Lyanna and Elia were forced to merely blow kisses to their husband.
Rhaegar noticed, and blew them two kisses in response. Maidens they no longer were, but he still could make them swoon.
Of their female friends, Ashara was glued to Ned's side as the two were likely not to spend much time apart for the next few days or so, while Ellaria and the Mormont sisters were preoccupied elsewhere - Lyanna was half-expecting Jorelle Mormont to have fallen into Oberyn and Ellaria's bed again, the other half-expecting Ellaria to have tried to find a proper husband… or merely cock, for Jorelle to jump. Therefore, besides each other, the relaxed and happy Queens had only Lady Cersei Baratheon and their goodmother to keep them company.
It… wasn't unpleasant for them.
"So," Elia began. "Should we skip the formalities of courting and just betroth your eldest to Visenya right now?"
Cersei raised an eyebrow. "You have it wrong, my son and your daughter are merely friends."
Lyanna blinked, incredulous. "I find that hard to believe, Cersei."
"No, he told me personally when I asked. They bonded in battle together and are only best friends and close confidants."
"Even you're not daft enough to believe that."
Snorting, Cersei rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm not that daft. Gods, that boy is just like his father, dense as diamond." Much as it was surprising to many in court, Cersei and Lord Stannis' relationship was a happy one - born of fidelity, four children, and mutual respect. But Stannis was still a cold bastard and Varys' birds had indicated many years passing before the two warmed up to each other. "I told him to confess his damn feelings but did he listen, nope. Still in denial."
Both Queens shared a look. Neither was surprised Visenya was in denial as well about her budding closeness to Gendry. A perfect princess on the outside, her mother's wild spirit dwelled within - as was the need to form friendships with strong men for the more rough and tumble play she preferred.
Seeing her rather preferring the company of more unsavory sorts like Gerold Dayne made them frown.
"Well, at least one person isn't in denial." At Rhaella's comments, all eyes were drawn to the Crown Prince and the cluster of maidens and older widows that practically swarmed around him. "He has to know what their intentions are."
Lyanna sighed at the scene. "Poor Jon." He was surrounded, the girls hanging onto his every word as he awkwardly talked to them. Gone was the confident Prince that brought the Dawn. Now, he was rubbing his neck and averting his gaze, clearly out of his element. None of his friends were present, while his sisters merely watched with steely glazes - Rhaella wanted them on their best behavior, and it was clear they were keeping it however reluctantly.
Watching it as well, Elia suddenly felt her blood boil. "Those sluts. How dare they look at our son like a piece of meat."
"He is the Crown Prince, your Grace," Cersei shrugged. "They're going to sink their teeth in him." A chuckle. "Better get used to Queen Margaery Tyrell or Queen Meredyth Hightower or Queen Wylla Manderly… not unless you're open to allowing Myrcella…"
Shaking her head, Lyanna glared at her. "Don't you dare, Cersei."
"Fine, fine. I suppose Robb Stark will do." It was irrelevant anyway. Myrcella and Robb were in love and Cersei wouldn't spoil the carefully crafted match Stannis and Ned negotiated. "But you'll need to either find him a bride or watch as they tear him apart."
"Aye, find him a bride." Rhaella stood, seeing Jaime eyeing her. "And make it quick, for I'm not having Olenna Tyrell rule the Seven Kingdoms using my grandson." With that she was off.
Find him a bride… easier said than done, but for the two Queens perhaps it wasn't so hard. Daemon was a Targaryen, and as Targaryens certain things were… open to them that weren't to others.
Catching Lyanna looking behind her, Elia turned to see her dashing son extend his arm to her. "Your Grace, may I be given the honor of this dance?"
Her heart soared with affection for Daemon, but Elia frowned outwardly. "None of this, 'Your Grace' business from you, young man."
Jon held his hands up in surrender. "Forgive me." He corrected himself. "Muna, may I be given the honor of this dance?"
Glancing at Lya and finding no jealousy in her gaze, just a sparkling warmth, Elia gave Jon a beaming smile. "Such a charmer, you are. I would love to." Standing, she pressed a kiss on Jon's cheek as the Crown Prince led his mother to the dance floor.
Hand pressed atop her chest, Lyanna wondered how she got so lucky. Betrothed to Robert Baratheon from the time she was but ten namedays, seeing the oaf whore and drink and eat his way through the world made her angry in public and want to cry herself to sleep in private… until the fateful tourney where both Rhaegar and Elia seduced her independent of each other - a moment brought to a thrilling conclusion where the King vowed to take the both of them as his brides and fought a duel with Robert for her hand. Now, here she was with eight amazing children, a handsome husband, and a gorgeous wife, all of whom she loved desperately.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you were jealous of Elia." Lyanna blinked, smirking as she felt Rhaegar's breath on her ear, arms wrapping around her shoulders from behind.
"The Crown Prince is a wonderful dancer." Lyanna continued with the little game. "Such a shame he didn't pick me."
Rhaegar kissed her neck, making her mewl. "I know I am not the Crown Prince, but may I ask for a dance from her Grace?"
Her eyes danced with mischief. "Hmmmm… no." Lya giggled, followed by a gasp as Rhaegar dragged her up.
"I didn't think it would take a command from the King," he growled like a dragon, meeting her eyes.
Feeling her smallclothes start to dampen, Lyanna nodded. "After that song… you may do anything you want with me, my dragon." She was a little disappointed when he merely took her to the dance floor rather than a secluded alcove like she yearned at the moment, but Lyanna resolved to enjoy herself.
Good things come to those who wait.
"Look at that." Jaehaerys Targaryen rolled his violet eyes at the display in front of him. "Do those cunts have no shame?"
"Oh, come now, cousin," Arya replied, grin on her lips. "You're just jealous that they're all hanging out around Jon rather than trying to jump you."
The Prince blushed madly, shaking his head - the lad was shameless, but preferred to be discrete after getting chewed out by his muna Lyanna upon the rather easy discovery of him with two maids and a stableboy. 'No Robert Baratheons in this family.' Rhaegar just laughed and said he was just like his uncle Oberyn.
A few helpful hints from Viserys made him more… secretive with his dalliances. It was obvious to Arya though - she kept the cabin next to his aboard ship during the island hopping campaign of the Stepstones. "You've always wanted to jump Myranda Royce and fuck her tits."
"Am I really that obvious to you?" Arya was a few years younger than him, but her desire to be in the fight had matured her quickly when she actually entered battle.
"No, I just remember the running commentary of the Fowler twins at Sunspear." She didn't blame him for that - they were quite attractive. "Now, your brother isn't getting attention from the handsome young knights, and I'm pretty sure Loras Tyrell is trying to eyefuck you."
Raising his eyebrow, Jaehaerys looked off at the young knight… oh yes, he was definitely interested. "As flattering as that would be, I'd find it weird if I then pursue the one I truly want to defile… only in the best way, mind you."
Arya's jaw dropped. "You want Margaery?" That she didn't expect.
"I don't see why that's a problem. She's gorgeous, smart, and friends with my family. Same reason you want cousin Aegon."
"Please, I don't want that pompous, golden-haired cunt."
"You insult him over the top. You love him more than I thought."
"Shut up." Arya pointed off to the side. "You want something really disgusting, look over there."
Jaehaerys followed Arya's finger. "Your cousin Sansa dancing with Harry Hardyng? Why is that…" His eyes narrowed. "Oh, Darkstar you motherfucker." Jae wanted to kill someone but didn't have a weapon. Fists will do…
Arya grabbed his arm. "Easy there, we don't want to piss off anyone."
"I'll kill Dickstar for this. How dare he court Visenya."
"Dickstar." Arya giggled. "I'll have to remember that one." But her smile changed to a frown. "Both dumb ladies are laughing and smiling with two complete assholes… This cannot stand, but we cannot harm them or risk the Realms destroying each other." Oh, the disadvantages of being related to the King and Queens. Such a quandary.
There was much Margaery Tyrell would do for her family. She socialized with her Hightower cousins even though they bored her to death. She giggled and smiled in all the official ladies functions for court even though those women were vipers who would poison people if they could get away with it. And she would flirt with Crown Prince Jon Targaryen cause her grandmother insisted.
'Get close to him. Tease him with your ample goodies and then reel him in when he wants more. We'll make you Queen yet.'
Olenna's plotting and her father's dreams aside, those same dreams died in Margaery long ago. She did wish to be in the thick of things, but being Queen was too much responsibility for her. The Rose of Highgarden liked a little levity in life and the prospect of intricate plots and battle strategies she saw from Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark weren't her cup of Arbor gold. "Really, my Prince," she asked, hand sliding up his arm. "The wildlings actually do that?"
Daemon chuckled, shaking his head at some strange memory most likely. "I've seen Tormund do it twice. He's quite popular with the ladies." Eyes shifted to the big bear of a wildling, guzzling down a whole goblet of wine in one sitting and belching to the cackles of the Dornishmen gathered around him. Hmmm… he's got Obara Sand wrapped around his finger. "I think he's gonna steal another one tonight."
"Oh, Prince Daemon, you are amusing," Margaery giggled. Jon, as Rhaenys called him, was objectively delightful. Witty and smart, she actually enjoyed his company… but would never actually seduce him. She and Rhae were too close friends for such a betrayal, and besides… ever since going to Sunspear her tastes began to shift to more… tanned men. Tan and muscular.
She only flirted with Jon because it was hilarious to see him so awkward.
The other maidens weren't as innocent in their desires.
"The wildlings sound so brutish," gasped Desmera Redwyne, batting her eyelashes. "How could a cultured prince like you stand to be with them."
'Um… they're fine when you get used to it. I fostered at Winterfell, so I know my way around the more brutish types."
"So worldly," giggled Myranda Royce, clutching at his other arm. "You must visit the Gates of the Moon, sometime. They are considered one of the ten wonders of the world." She displayed her massive bust for him.
Even a man who preferred men like her brother would've been captivated by that. Jon was no exception. "I… I… I've seen them, Lady Myranda." He gulped. "Very beautiful." Margaery rolled her eyes, looking pained towards where she saw Rhaenys standing with her sister Dany and her uncle Viserys.
"This is difficult to watch," Viserys muttered, munching on a chicken leg. "I mean, I've been in eightsomes before but never were they this suffocating."
"Fuck off, uncle Vis," Rhaenys growled. Gods, if she had Dark Sister with her she'd cleave off the noses of all those whores and make them ugly forever. Probably better that I don't have Dark Sister. "Can you believe those sluts, Dany?"
Not as fiery as Rhae, she more simmered silently. Darkly. "'Sluts' is a too mild term for what I feel about them, sister." Dany looked at her uncle, voice as low as the direwolf she half was. "Vis, do something."
He held up his hands. "No fucking way. I'm not getting roped into this."
"Do your thing. Lay on the charm and get them into your bed and away from our brother."
"No. No more running interference with my dick. I've done it before for you but I'm not doing it again. Get Ser Arthur to get him out of there."
A sigh from Dany. "Jon tried, but Arthur's too busy getting reacquainted with Dacey after so long. Left Jon to his fate, that cunt."
Stomping her foot, Rhaenys had enough when Bethany Bracken tried to get Jon to sniff her hair. "That's it. I'm going in." Dany bit her lip but followed, knowing Rhae would need her to clean up her mess.
Viserys merely bit his chicken leg. Don't fucking wake the dragon, ladies. A lesson he'd learned early in life.
Seeing the Sun Dragon storming towards them, Margaery had disentangled from Jon and walked to her. "I swear, Rhae, I tried my best…" Rhaenys merely brushed past her, too angry.
Last time she was this angry, thirty ships of the Triarchy were burned into hulks of driftwood without a single survivor, but luckily for the maidens of the Realm she merely shoved them aside. "Gotta talk to my little brother, if you don't mind." Grabbing Jon's wrist, she dragged him off - the girls missing the look of relief on his face.
Silently enjoying this, Daenerys gave them all an apologetic look. It was out of her ass, but believable. "Forgive me, ladies, but we've spent the last three years without our beloved brother. We miss him and want some time with him - I hope you understand."
The words mollified the maidens, some swooning. "If he were my brother, I'd do the same," one spoke.
"If he were my brother, fuck the Faith I'd gobble him up in an instant," Myranda Royce gushed. She only just missed having her throat ripped out by Hura.
Dany merely nodded. "I'm glad. Until next time, ladies." They curtseyed to the Princess as she walked away, wanting to wash her mouth out with soap to ward away the bad taste she had giving them the time of day.
But both their efforts didn't go unnoticed.
Two triumphs. Two feasts… and the end was the same for Lyanna. "Don't stop," Elia whimpered, Dornish accent even more seductive when hoarse with arousal - causing a flood of wetness to soak her core. She gripped Lyanna's head desperately, keeping it in place. "Keep going…"
Lyanna obeyed the breathless command quite happily. She lapped at Elia's lower lips with gusto, tasting the tart fluids of her wife and the remnants of their husband's seed earlier spilled inside. This will be me, soon. The thought delighted her - unlike the last triumph, their beautiful god of a husband joined them in turning in for the night.
The same husband that was currently positioned behind her, fingers dug into her ass cheeks as he thrust his mighty cock deep into her cunt. "Oh yes…" she murmured, half-muffled by Elia's heat. "Fuck me harder, my King."
Rhaegar grunted behind her. "My Queens," he said reverently, leaning down to fondle one of Lya's swaying breasts. Still wonderfully perky as they were when they married. His chest was flush against her back but his pace didn't falter. Decades of mind-blowing sex in their marriage bed - and many other areas - had left all three experts at playing each other's bodies like Rhaegar played his harp. Familiarity bred new pleasures and hunger, not boredom.
They pitied those who grew bored with their lovers.
Screaming into Elia's cunt from just how deep Rhaegar was fucking her, Lyanna focused her mind to making her wife shatter above her. She raked her nails on Elia's olive-skinned thighs, plunging her tongue deep inside to taste the pungent deliciousness while rubbing her clit.
Elia's lip was quivering, a strangled cry passing out of her mouth like a whimper. She bucked her hips against Lya's mouth, fingers weaving in her chestnut hair. A sheen of sweat covered her as she hurtled towards her climax.
Lapping up the flood of juices, Lyanna suddenly felt Rhaegar's hand on her ass. The slap rang out, making her moan. "Do it! Harder!" He complied, timing the swats to her cheeks with a furious thrust, pulling out of her almost to the tip before pounding as deep as he could. "Rhaegar…" she gasped. "Harder my dragon… faster my dragon… oh fuck… my dragon!" Lyanna's vision erupted into a white light for the second time that night, feeling Rhaegar's seed coat her insides. Never let this end… I never want this to ever cease.
She prayed for this every time they were intimate, and two decades later the prayer still came true.
Slowly pulling himself out of Lyanna's warmth, her cunt trying its best to suction him back in, Rhaegar heard her hiss in displeasure but could only fall onto the bed. Sweat drenched him, his breathing hard. "Dear Seven on high, you wore me out."
Crawling atop each other and flipping so that Lyanna was on the bottom, the two Queens peered at him with twinkling, lustful eyes. "That's it, my King?" Lyanna asked innocently. "We were hoping for more."
Rhaegar gave them an incredulous look. "After all that? It's a wonder my heart didn't give out, and you still want more."
"If you wished for a docile, easily pleased woman then you should've married a Tully, or one of Olenna Tyrell's girls," Elia smirked, giggling deviously. "We still haven't been pleased." It was true. Even each getting eaten out and so deliriously fucked by their dragonrider husband, their cores still burned with the need for one more release. "You know what your playing the harp does to us."
He shook his head. "You're incorrigible." Rhaegar wouldn't have it any other way, but still… "I'm not a twenty-nameday old green boy anymore."
Lyanna looked up at her wife. "Well, he's outlived his usefulness. Want to find a younger man to please us?"
Elia eyed Rhaegar for a moment before shrugging. "Do we need a man?"
"When I wake, you two are going to pay for that." His threat made them giggle - they loved his threats, especially when they led to simply more enjoyment. But his eyes softened. "Goodnight, my loves."
They swooned. "Goodnight, husband," both replied, voices filled with love. Soon they saw Rhaegar dead to the world, still nude but snoring softly. Time for their attentions to be given solely to each other.
Able to read each other without words, both Queens knew exactly what the other wanted. "We are so lucky, Lya." Elia cooed, her fingers snaking down to Lya's sopping gash… lubricated with their husband's seed. "I don't know what I'd do if not married to you and our dragon." She arched her hips and slid two fingers inside of Lya, smiling as she clenched around them.
Mewling, Lyanna froze for a moment at the pleasure before plunging her own digits into Elia's cunt, making her moan. "I know what I'd be doing… running Storm's End while plotting to poison my fat whoremongering excuse of a husband." Her eyes darkened as she fucked Elia faster.
"Gods, don't remind me that slug existed." Elia was practically gasping the words, ire mixed with pure arousal. "Oh fuck, yes… but…" Something came to her mind, which made her frown and merely slowly ride Lyanna's fingers. "Our happiness has me thinking of Jon."
"You too, Lia?" Lyanna's expression softened. The lust was still there, but joined by sorrow. "It broke my…" Elia's fingers ghosted over a sensitive spot. "Right there… heart to see him out there. Alone and… driftless without someone to love him as we love Rhaegar." She shimmied, trying a different angle so that Elia could hit that spot again. Perfectly positioned, Lya sucked a nipple into her mouth.
Breathless, Elia felt the sensations go straight to her core. "He needs… a beautiful wife to cherish." As Lyanna switched to another nipple, a cry of pleasure left her lips. "I know... just the person."
She pulled back, smiling. "You do? I do as well." Stilling their fingers, both spoke simultaneously.
"Rhae."
"Dany."
They stared at each other incredulously. "Really?" Elia flicked Lya's clit, making her mewl.
"Yes, really." Lyanna added a third finger to make her point, making Elia bite her lip.
"I would think it's obvious," Elia replied imperiously, though it was dampened by how she rode the three fingers like a bitch in heat. "Rhae's the better choice."
Lyanna rolled her eyes, but groaned when Elia reciprocated with three fingers, sucking her neck. "And how did you… mmmm, harder, my love... come up with that?"
Pulling back from Lya's now marked pulse point, the Dornish Queen licked up to her ear. "Jon is a warrior, he needs someone… oh yes, curl those fingers…" She took an earlobe between her teeth, sucking as Lyanna pleasured her cunt. "Of his own heart to ride alongside him in battle and bring the dragon's might to the world."
"Jon is a warrior, aye, but that only shows he needs a savvy… fuck... politician and cunning thinker beside him to compliment him," Lya countered, seeing stars from her wife's attentions.
"He has a Hand for that."
"I intend for him to have a wife for that." She fingered her harder, setting a powerful pace that made Elia wrench her eyes shut. "The Hand can be the warrior."
It was too much… too damn much... All she could do was curl her fingers against Lyanna's spots, demanding she shatter with her. "In your… dreams… oh fuck, Lya!"
Lyanna choked back a strangled scream, walls clenching around Elia's fingers. "Yes, Lia, yes…"
Both Queens held each other close with their free hands, bodies pressed together as their wild gyrating transitioned into mere trembling, as if cold. Their bodies were humming, quite sensitive but finally tuckered out. Desperately in love that they were, Lya pressed sweet kisses on Elia's neck and shoulder while Elia nuzzled Lya's nose and kissed her cheek.
Wrapped together in a cocoon of limbs and love, Elia's thoughts went back to their little quarrel. "I think... we're at an impasse." The gears in her mind turned dangerously, a devious grin curling on her face. "Which is why we should make this more interesting."
Lyanna's eyebrow rose. She knew that tone, and her own dander was up. "Oh? And what do you have in mind, my love?"
"A wager. Jon needs a wife and both Dany and Rhae would be acceptable to all parties involved. Let's see whom he falls for." She was already excited about starting this - making her beloved son happy while also showing up her wife.
It seemed strange to Lyanna at first, but the more she thought about it the more excited she too became. "I like how you're thinking." Her devious grin matched Elia's. "Whomever loses…" Pursing her lips in thought, suddenly she came to the perfect terms. "Has to be the sexual plaything of the other for an entire moon."
Elia snorted. "Lecher." But her grin widened. "Done. I shall look forward to dominating my she-wolf."
Lyanna shook her head and kissed Elia on the lips. "Keep dreaming, Lia, keep dreaming." They both chuckled, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.
In their resolute, competitive resolve, neither Queen noticed a half-lidded eye close - nor a tiny smile curve up. For the King had heard every single word.
Both of them watched the former king, mostly in amusement but sometimes just confused at how he watched every moment of Daemon's triumph. Gasping or clapping at every new display or exciting spectacle. "Giants, south of the wall! Literal giants!"
"You do realize we're all dragonriders, brother?" Maegor asked, trying not to smirk. "Large, deadly things aren't that exotic to us."
Aenys waved him off. "Yes, valonqar, I know." He magnified the image, watching yet another float go by. "My gods… could you imagine what those monsters must've been like in person?"
Rhaena rolled her eyes. "Kepa, young Daemon fought them blade to blade and nearly died doing it."
"The key word in that is 'nearly,' dearest daughter," laughed Aenys, taking a seat and sipping an ambrosia-like arbor gold. "Perhaps you're right, but that triumph is something I wish I truly had seen while I was alive. All the smallfolk, cheering for the warrior Princes of House Targaryen."
Propping his feet against the table, Maegor sighed. "I delivered you plenty of victories early in your reign, brother, yet you never let me hold a triumph." Dealing so quickly with the Vale Rebellion, as he had the Stepstones pirates before that, had spared blood and treasure that the Realm was shown to desperately need later on.
Wincing, his brother had the sense to show how apologetic he was. "Forgiveness, valonqar. There were… political issues that prevented you to be honored as such. I was barely able to see you posted as Hand to begin with." He bit his lip. "Not to mention my failures with your love life." That, he was the most sorry for.
"Which failure?" Maegor narrowed his eyes.
"He's referring to the first one, uncle. Your initial betrothal that grandmother first tried setting up." Sighing herself, Rhaena tucked her legs underneath her and rested her head on Maegor's shoulder. "I wish it had happened that way, perhaps everything would've worked out."
"Oh, it most certainly would've," Aenys said, kicking himself mentally for listening to Alyssa - his wife always hated his brother. "Had you been Hand, we would've stopped those bastards in their tracks."
Maegor snorted. "I did stop those bastards in their tracks, only for your son to pull the rug out from under me…" His eyes softened, wrapping an arm around Rhaena when she kissed his neck. He would've been lost to the seven hells without her, long though did it take for her to forgive him of his actions. "But what do I know? I was just as much a failure as you."
"Both of you stop." Rhaena's heart broke for the two most important men in her life. "Kepa, you were a great peacetime King. Had you inherited what my great-nephew Viserys inherited then you'd have been fine… and uncle, what happened was not your fault. You did the best you could but were stopped by… those monsters." Rhaena wished she knew then what she knew now and has Dreamfyre burn the Citadel to the ground. Rhaegar's people already saw to that. After learning the truth about that, it was inevitable that she and her uncle would reconcile, and much more. "You need not have such heavy hearts."
Smiling softly, Maegor kissed his nieces cheek, and then her lips. "Thank you."
"You have no need to thank me, my love." She looked back to the image. "Whooo boy, Daemon may be a proud warrior, but he's clueless at love."
"Hopefully his munas have a better chance than mine did."
A/N: So Dany and Rhae are already pretty protective of Jon, who came back from the north a powerful, handsome Prince that draws attention like honey would a fly. Better stake your claim, girls.
Nothing good can come from the two Queens making a wager XD
The recap scene at the end is the debut of the main pairing in my story Dragonshield. Be sure to check that one out!
Be sure to drop a comment, and can't wait to see y'all next time. The more comments the sooner I'll update :D