Hello everyone Shadowwolf1997 is back with a new chapter for y'all and I hope you like it. It details the doom and what y'all have been waiting for. Here is a small spoiler because I'm cruel, the North and Dorne will stay Independent, but not quite hostile to the Iron Throne. Disclaimer: I do not own a Song of Ice and Fire and write this only because I have the freedom to.
The Doom and the Pact
The Doom and the Surviving Dragonlords
For several centuries the North and Valyria had been trading partners, thought the North had closer ties with Braavos the the Dragonlords. In fact the Valyrians with the best relations with the First Men were the Targaryens of Dragonstone, who had kept amiable relations with the strongest power of the West from their island fortress. Within the Runelodge of White Harbor, the Druids had the largest collection of Valyrian magic and lore outside the Valyrian Peninsula, and was not uncommon to see one or two of the Dragonlords visiting the city. Most were lesser sons and daughters looking to see the world, often visiting what many regarded as the second greatest power in the World, surpassed only by Valyria itself. But this would all change with the coming of the Doom.
In the City of Valyria, the beating heart of the World, the day started out like any other, the wing beats of dragons filling the air as the people of the great city went about their daily life. The black towers shining in the sun.
It started with a low rumble, a common enough occurrence with fourteen volcanoes so close by. But the tremor only grew and grew. It felt as if the Earth was ripping apart, and finally, all at once, the Fourteen Flames erupted blocking the sun in vast clouds of ash and tearing the Earth asunder. The land heaved and cracked, great gorges forming where there was once fields and cities. The Great Towers of Valyria toppled and collapsed, fireballs rained down upon the city. Molten rock destroyed all in its path, knocking dragons and their rides from the sky. The land collapsed into the waiting sea. Buildings, people, and dragons sent tumbling into its merciless waters. Most of Valyria, the great city of the Dragonlords, was lost to the sea in less than a day, and with it almost every dragon and dragon rider.
The only Dragon riders to survive were the Targaryens of Dragonstone, the Bealons who ruled from Pentos, and the Voltareses of Volantis. The riders enjoying their time in Lys were all later killed, along with their dragons.
House Voltares, their symbol of an orange Dragon on a blue field would rule the south from Volantis, eventually bringing Lys, Myr and Tyrosh under their command while the two headed yellow dragon on a white background would control Norvos, Lorath, and Qohor from Pentos. In time this would bring conflict to the newly created North Cities and South Cities, but those are stories for another time.
On Dragonstone however lay the Targaryens with their Dragons, and the second sons and daughters of lesser Valyrian families, totaling for a total of ten additional dragonriders, all loyal to the Targaryens, but nowhere near the strength of the mainland survivors which had as many as four dozen dragon riders each.
With the destruction of Valyria and the dividing of her daughters by the two strongest surviving houses of Dragonlords, the Targaryens looked to the West, and they began to see something no one had seen before. A land ripe to conquer, with the right force.
Dragon seeks help from the Wolf and the Sun
Under the reign of Lord Aerion Targaryen, the Targaryens began laying their plans for the conquest of Central Westeros. Early on the Lord of Dragonstone realized his family and vassals lacked the power to ever make the North kneel and that Dorne was too staunch an ally for the Northmen not to come to their aid. At the same time he realized that both the North and Dorne could care less about the lands in between them and could perhaps even be persuaded to help his family conquer them. To this end he sent a message to Winterfell and Dorne inviting the Starks and Martells to Dragonstone in hopes of forging an alliance.
When a raven came bearing a letter from the then Queen Lyanna III saying she and Princess Meria would agree to this meeting, but that it would be held at Winterfell. The letter stated that the Targaryens could bring their dragons with them and that Lord Aerion should bring his children with him. If any other House had suggested this the lord of Dragonstone would have suspected treachery, but as it came from the Starks whose reputation and high regard for the guest right was well known, he felt the request was genuine
And so in the year 14 BC, the Targaryens arrived in White Harbor, before traveling to the capital of the Kingdom of the Winterlands and the Isles, Wintercity, the beating heart of the north.
A boy of only thirteen at the time, the young Argon who describe his first time seeing the fabled city of the North in his memories near the end of his life, Tales of the Dragon King.
"I had never seen an actual city before that point, my life spent on Dragonstone. Wintercity was everything the stories had made it out to be. It was a beautiful city of stone, wood, mist, and smoke smelling of freshly burning pine and oak. The people of the north were as different from the people of Dragonstone as I could have imagined. And then there were the Giants, the Children, and the Wargs. I lost count of how many times I saw men and giants talking and conversing with each other, some old friends, others working together. I had been taught the rudimentary basics of the Old Tongue, so here and there I was able to discern what was being discussed. Most was the kind of talk you would here friends use with each other. The children and wargs walked around the city as if they were ordinary people, going about their business and seeming to enjoy themselves as anyone else could speaking with friends."
"Everywhere I turned I saw the men and women of the Ice guard carrying out their duties with all the vigilance and responsibility their position required. And overhead I saw them, the Gryphon Riders atop their mighty beasts. Ever since I could remember I had longed to see the only other beast in this world that could fly while carrying a man on its back. Even Vaghar was larger than the most titanic Gryphon, a fool could see the deadly ability that laid within those proud creatures.
And then I saw the ancient fortress of Winterfell. Its three wall seeming to dare any to come a try to break them. Between the first and second walls was a deep moat with a drawbridge that we crossed over. Beyond the Second wall was a flat area with no cover, making a man an easy target for the archers and scorpions that lined the wall. And past the third wall was a great courtyard that opened up to the castle proper. Inside the wall was magnificent. I remember reading the journals of my ancestor Ayex Targaryen and decided that his description of the Starks home was quite accurate."
Lord Aerion led his wife and three children into the courtyard of Winterfell, the dragons Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes landing behind their masters.
Meeting them was the Queen of Winter and Iron and the Princess of the Desert, Queen Lyanna Stark III and Princess Meria Nymeros Martell. While the Yellow Toad of Dorne looked ready to die at any second in the opinion of the Targaryen Children, the Northern Queen looked not much better, having only recently recovered from a strong sickness that had claimed the life of her husband Jonelle Bolton. Lord Aerion and his family bowed to the two monarch of the North and South.
"I welcome the members of House Targaryen to Winterfell. A great feast has been prepared for you and our Dornish guests later this evening." Queen Lyanna spoke in thickly accented Andal, which thankfully the Valyrians could understand.
Looking to the two monarch Lord Aerion bowed again before speaking, "Queen Lyanna, Princess Meria, me and my wife would like to speak to you in private if that is alright. If it is not too much trouble my Queen would you mind allowing my children to explore your home I promise nothing shall be destroyed or damaged."
Looking at the three Targaryen sibling the Queen nodded before saying, "I see no harm in it, allow your children to entertain themselves and explore to their hearts content."
Squealing with excitement the youngest Rhaenys ran off, followed closely by Aegon. The oldest Visenya decided to go exploring by herself. The oldest of the Targaryens couldn't help but stare at the massive fortress that easily dwarfed Dragonstone. All around her she saw The Wolf Fang Guard patrolling the castle, with the Beastmen and their animal companions seen every so often. Lumbering Giants also dotted Winterfell, some in the armor of the Wolf Fang Guard, others the guards of the giant lords. And over head she saw the North's Gryphon riders flying atop their mounts, the creatures were majestic and a wonder to behold, but Visenya silently thought they were not as great as a dragon. Her own dragon Vhagar was being tended to by the servants her had brought with them. She was about to head over to her dragon when she caught site of a different area of the castle.
An ancient gate the only opening in a stone wall, and beyond it a vast wooded area. Visenya knew that this must be the Godswood of Winterfell, the ancient grove that the castle had been built around, its woods untouched since before the First Men had arrived to Westeros. Curiosity overwhelmed her, and the young Valyrian entered the primordial forest. The very air of the Godswood, Visenya decided, made her feel as if she was not alone. She had the feeling that she was being watched, not hostilely, but rather as if something was merely observing her. She then felt the presence leave, as if satisfied that she was not a threat, and finally she felt the peace and tranquility of the place open up to her.
As she ventured deeper within the Godswood, Visenya heard something. The sound of metal hitting wood. Following the noise, she found her way to the center of the Godswood, with the ancient Heart Tree of Winterfell, its solemn face overlooking the cool pool of water. Under its gaze were men, their ages hard to tell due to the bone white masks with red tears, signifying their status as members of the Harbingers, the First Men equivalent of knights, but who served as a form of heavy infantry rather than cavalry. Both wielder a shield and iron hammer and were dueling with each other. Visenya watched the duel with rapt attention, her own training as a warrior allowing her to admire their skill.
Finally the taller one managed to knock down the other Harbinger, bringing his foot down on his opponent's shield arm and trapping him there. The two spoke in the Old Tongue, so Visenya was unable to understand most of what they said, but it was clear that the one on the ground had yielded. Laughing the victor helped his downed opponent and pulled him to his feet. The two took off their helms to reveal the smiling faces of two youths, one sixteen, the other eighteen if she had to guess. They had brown hair and long faces, with cat like grey eyes. The identity of the two warriors was now revealed to Visenya. It was the Crown Prince Torrhen Stark and his bastard brother Brandon Snow, both laughing and now wrestling with each other as the Prince put his younger brother in a headlock.
Before she could make a move either to leave or reveal herself, Visenya heard the snapping of branches behind her, and turned to stare into the orange eyes of a full grown direwolf, its brown pelt blending well with the Godswood. By its side was another full grown direwolf, this one an albino with red eyes.
Screaming in shock as she fell backwards, Visenya found she could she why the Starks had taken a direwolf as their sigil, the horse sized wolves looked as if they could rip a mammoth apart with easy, let alone a man. However the wolves weren't growling and were only staring at her with something akin to curiosity.
Before anything else could happen, a voice rang out through the Godswood. The Stark Prince appeared between her and the wolf, placing his hands on the beast as he spoke in a soothing tone, his brother doing the same with the other wolf.
Turning to regard the woman who had wandered into the Godswood, Prince Torrhen was momentarily shocked. On the ground, dressed in a combination of mail and leather, shining platinum gold hair that reached her shoulders and decorated with a few leaves from her fall. Where eyes were a stunning lilac color. And her body was already one many a woman would like to have. But her face looked as if it had been carved by the children themselves, there was a stern beauty in her face that for a moment had ensnared the young warrior.
Blinking back to reality and offering his hand to the downed woman he spoke with a thick northern accent, "Apologies my magnara, Forest and Wraith meant you no harm, they were probably just curious about you. It's quite easy to see that you mean no harm here."
Looking more closely at the Crown Prince of the Winterlands and the Isles, Visenya found she could only nod as she studied the young man before her. He was already as tall as her father and beneath his leathers, Visenya could see his thick muscles. His long face and cat like gray eyes mesmerizing her, a bringing a slight blush to her face.
As Prince Torrhen was pulling her up, her foot got caught in a root and caused Visenya to trip… right into the prince's chest. Her face now truly red she looked up at the head and a half taller Northmen, only to find his face red as hers as when she had tripped into him, her chest had pressed against his.
Hearing a coughing sound the two turned to look at Torrhen's brother, who was trying to keep a straight face despite the obvious fact he was trying not to laugh.
"Well not that this isn't nice and all but I believe introductions are in order my magnara. I am Brandon Snow, half brother of the mute currently holding your hand, Crown Prince Torrhen Stark. Many I ask who you are and why are you here?"
Before either could respond they both realized one thing Brandon had said, they were indeed still holding hands. The Prince of Winter and Iron dropped Visenya's hand like it was a hot stone.
"I am Visenya Targaryen, my father is meeting with your mother and the Princess of Dorne to work out some kind of agreement. Your mother gave me and my siblings permission to wander your castle and I was curious about the Godswood so I entered. I meant no harm or trespass by it."
Hearing a somewhat urgent tone in her voice, Torrhen decided to speak, "You did nothing wrong Magnara Godswood is open to all, we were just surprised anyone would be here at this time."
Looking relieved that she hadn't offended the rulers of the North, Visenya was about to reply when the earth gave a small tremor and a loud booming voice spoke in the Old Tongue. Turning the three youths saw a large giant dressed in the armor of the Ice Swords. Smiling Prince Torrhen turned to Visenya and threw out his hand to the Giant, "Magnara Visenya allow me to introduce the Captain of the Ice Sword and Wolf Fang Guard, Wun Cramon, a more loyal giant and guard you may never find." Turning to the Giant Torrhen then introduced Visenya, speaking in the Old Tongue.
Turning his head to the Targaryen, the Giant nodded his head before speaking again. Nodding to the Giant the Prince turned to Visenya and offered her his arm. "Wun has just said that a feast will begin in an hour or two and that we are to report to our chambers to get ready. He also says it's fortunate that you were here because your family is looking for you. If the lady does not mind, I would be more than happy to escort her to the the guest chambers."
Staring at the outstretched arm for a moment and feeling the blush return to her face, a smile graced Visenya's face as she took the Heir to the North's arm, looping her own around it before replying, "I would like that my Prince."
That night in the Great Hall, Magnars of the North and a few Lords of Dorne danced and feasted with the Targaryen retainers. Queen Lyanna Stark however was not paying much attention to the festivities however. While she absentmindedly scratched the ears of her direwolf Oak, her gaze was turned to her normally grim son Torrhen smile, actually smile, as he danced with young Visenya Targaryen. Usually only herself, his brother, and his closest friends were the only ones able to do that. It felt like a sign from the gods that she had made the right choice.
The voice of her old mentor and colleague rang beside her, "My my, it seems your dear wolf has taken quite a liking to the young she dragon. And if that blush on the young lady's face is any indicator the feeling is mutual." Meria Martell spoke with a rather playful tone. "So are you told them yet or are they planning on just wanting to give you grandchildren."
Turning to smirk at her old mentor from her time of being fostered in Sunspear the Wolf Queen spoke, "To answer the first no I have not told them, me and lord Aerion will announce it later tonight. As for the second, well is it so wrong for a woman to want little grandchildren to spoil to her heart's content."
"I guess not. After all, who am I to teach another on chastity, I was certainly no practitioner in my youth, but then neither were you my dear little she wolf." At this the Queen threw her head back and laughed.
Aerion Targaryen couldn't believe what he saw as his eldest daughter was happily dancing and speaking with the Prince of Winterfell. It seemed as if fortune truly was on his side. The meeting with the Queen and Princess had gone better than he could have hoped for. It would cost him all four of his children, his bastard son Orys had decided to stay at Dragonstone to avoid offending the Starks and Martells. Aerion briefly smiled at the thought of his second son, a smart, dutiful lad who admired his older brother.
Quickly returning his thoughts to the meeting, Aerion smiled. In return for agreeing to leave the Winterland and Dorne unscathed, and having Visenya and Aegon fostered at Winterfell, and Rhaenys and Orys at Sunspear, he would receive funding and soldiers for his family's campaign. He would also have to give his oldest daughter Visenya as a bride to the young prince Torrhen and surrender the Marches of the Reach and the Stormlands to Dorne. While the second understandable, he had been a bit confused by the first, before Queen Lyanna explained it would be the best way to seal an Alliance, her oldest marrying his oldest. Already the lad was showing promise. A shrewd and cunning lad, he was one of the youngest, along with his bastard brother, to become a full fledged Harbinger of the Gods of the Forest. He was smart and ruthless when needed, and capable of generosity and gratitude, important traits for a ruler to wield effectively.
All three leaders had agreed now was not the right time to strike. Aerion could wait though, even if it fell to Aegon to complete the conquest, the future of his family was secure. He had at first been unsure of giving Visenya to the Starks, having always planned for his daughters to marry his son. But seeing his normally stoic and solemn daughter smiling and blushing like a maiden on her wedding day as she danced with Prince Torrhen Stark. Seeing her happy helped in come to terms with the matter, but he couldn't but wonder if that would change when he told her after the feast.
Torrhen found himself staring at his mother in her solar. She had just told him about the deal struck between houses Stark, Martell, and Targaryen. He had stopped listening after he had heard the words, "you will marry Visenya Targaryen," and his face adopted the expression of one hit by a hammer.
He noticed his mother smiling as she spoke, "Surely you don't find this a great burden on your part Torrhen, I say how you and the young She Dragon behaved around each other. While it may just be physical attraction or infatuation, such feeling aren't bad when first marrying, in fact it's a good start to building up a solid marriage."
"Speaking from experience mother." Torrhen couldn't help but quip, for in her younger days Queen Lyanna hadn't exactly been the model of chastity and temperance when it came to the ways of pleasure. In fact she had lain with his father, Harras Frostfang ten times before agreeing to marrying him. In her defence, she had stayed faithful to his father, only conceiving Brandon after his father died in a the latest in a series of failed invasions from the Vale, taking a lance meant for his mother and dying in her arms. Queen Lyanna had mourned the loss for a year before she sought comfort in the arms of the Ice Sword, Harbinger Jeor, who died protecting her when she led an attack the lair of a gang of bandits and thieves. To his knowledge that was the last time she took a lover, instead devoting her time to raising him and his brother and ruling the Winterlands and the Isles, doing everything she could to efficiently run her kingdom, while trying to raise two boys whose fathers had died protecting her.
Instead of taking offense to the remark and getting angry, his mother merely laughed before adopting an impish smirk, "Well it certainly doesn't hurt, as your father proved. Why the things that man would do…"
"I'm have to stop you there mother, please I don't want to hear how it took father ten times to convince you to marry him or what occurred during those proposals." Torrhen interrupted his mother, as she knew he would, with a face one usually reserved for situations of extreme discomfort.
Laughing again, the Queen of Winter and Iron adopted a serious expression. "All jesting aside, you could do much worse and the two of you seem fond of each other after a short time. That is a good start for any relationship. Besides if this venture succeeds, we will never have to worry about another damned Andal invasion."
Torrhen knew at this his mother was thinking about his father, most of her lovers had been only one night affairs, forgotten with the rising sun. And while she had cared for Harbinger Jeor, the only man his mother had ever truly loved had been his father. Many older members of the Winterfell household said that after the death of Magnar Harras, the flirtatious and somewhat self-centered Lyanna had changed into a more reserved and careful person. That along with the births of him and his brother had greatly changed her into the Queen she was today.
Nodding to his mother Torrhen spoke, "Don't worry mother, I will do as is expected of me."
Meanwhile in the Targaryen's apartment, Visenya's face had gone the color of scarlet when she heard she was to marry the Stark Prince, while Aegon displayed excitement in getting to stay at a place other than Winterfell.
"Father while I don't disagree a marriage to the Starks will benefit our family, why do my and Aegon have to stay here." Visenya questioned, feeling like she in particular was being cast out of the family.
"For Aegon it's so he can get some life experience beyond Dragonstone, and as for you it serves two purposes. One so that you get to better know your future husband and the second is so that you can become familiar with the land you will one day become Queen of. And Vhagar will stay with you so it's not all bad my dear and besides, you seemed quite fond of young Torrhen tonight at the feast." This brought a bright blush to the young woman's face.
Kneeling before his daughter and taking her hand, Aerion smiled as he spoke, "I know that you are scared and nervous. That is natural, but the Starks are an honorable family and will treat you as if you are already one of their own. Remember that the greatest strength of a wolf is the pack, and once you become part of their pack, the Starks will never treat you poorly."
Nodding to her father Visenya looked to her little brother who looked excited by the idea of staying in Winterfell for a few years, "Well looks like you might be able to ride a Gryphon after all little brother."
"Before we depart Visenya I have a gift for you." Aerion turned to a chest and pulled out a long wrapped package. He then handed it to Visenya, who quickly unwrapped it to find that it was a sword, and a familiar one at that. "Father this is…"
"Yes this is Dark Sister, this is my gift to you daughter, and with it a father's love. Never forget that you are the blood of Valyria, and while your sons or daughters will rule as kings and queens, and in their blood will flow the blood of the First Men of Westeros, they will also posses the blood of the Dragon."
With tears in her eyes Visenya hugged her father, "Thank you father I love you." Smiling as he returned his daughter's hug, "And I you, my little dragon."
When the Targaryen and Dornish parties left, Visenya and Aegon began their fostering with the Starks. Taking their lessons with the High Druid, and training in the courtyard with the Master of Arms Beron Cassel. During these matches Torrhen and Visenya would often duel each other, their duels often getting particularly vicious on occasion. Brandon would tease them constantly that that was their way of relieving sexual tension, only to later flee with a laughing Aegon from his brother and his betrothed who were hot on their tails.
During his stay, Aegon came to view Torrhen and Brandon as the older brothers he never had. Becoming close with both of them. They in turn taught him how to fight with hammers and spears and helped him to vastly improve his swordsmanship.
During these years, anyone with eyes could see the growing bond between Torrhen and Visenya. When Visenya turned sixteen, they kissed for the first time in the Godswood where they had met, Torrhen's Direwolf Forest keeping an eye out for her master and his love. As the years passed and they continued to grow closer, both found it harder to keep their hands off each other, especially Torrhen as Visenya's body developed into that of a voluptuous beauty. The shyness she had once had toward Torrhen had faded to teasing flirtations, that often ended with the two of them found kissing each other breathless in some empty section of Winterfell. Finally when Visenya turned seventeen, it was announced that within two months, the two would be married.
Marriage of the Dragon and Wolf
Opening her lilac eyes. Visenya Targaryen grumbled at the damn sun that had woken her from her amazing dream. Burrowing herself deeper into her bed of sheets and furs, and trying to back to her dream, where she and her Torrhen were married and with a family. She was awoken again by the door to her chamber slamming open, the offenders being her sister Rhanerys and their old friend, another Valyrian Dragonrider whose family had escaped the doom and sworn fealty to House Targaryen, Danea Syraean, as well as the Meera, the Northern maid who had served Visenya the three years she had lived in Winterfell, and her best friend.
"Visenya what are you doing?" Rhaenys all but shouted. "Trying to sleep dear sister, now if you all will go away so I can accomplish that." Visenya growled out.
A wicked grin appeared across Meera's lips as she spoke, "Well I'm sure Prince Torrhen will understand. It is only your wedding day after all." The sentence had it's desired effect, causing the oldest of the Targaryen siblings to leap out of the bed as she remembered that today was indeed her long awaited wedding day.
Seeing that Visenya was now indeed awake, Meera let out a whistle, and the young woman was descended on by a horde of Northern and Targaryen servants who worked frantically to prepare her. After being almost literally throne in a bath filled with honey and lavender scented oils, Visenya was placed in front of a giant mirror as the maids went to work preparing her. As she had maintained a shoulder length hair cut on the account that Torrhen had once said it suited her better, she was given no fancy hair style, but was dressed in a black and gray wedding dress. A circlet of iron and amber was place upon her head. And at her side was Dark Sister, a weapon perfectly acceptable in a Northern wedding.
"The Prince is a lucky man dear sister, you look absolutely stunning." Rhaenys said as she leaned in on her sister, Danea laughing as she said, "It will be a miracle if he doesn't take you there in the Godswood."
This caused Visenya to laugh, "Believe me if he's held out this long, he'll hold out until tonight, my wolf is just too honorable a man to take me before."
Visenya admired herself in the mirror. Today was the day she had been dreaming of for so long, she just couldn't wait.
Meanwhile in the Godswood, dressed in his finest mail and leathers, his warhammer by his side, a nervous Torrhen Stark stood before the Heart Tree, where he had first laid eyes on Visenya three years ago, an amused Brandon and Aegon with Orys also trying not to laugh.
"Look at that, unafraid to challenge a Giant to single combat, he's petrified at the idea of marriage." Aegon said laughing. "Aye, you might even say he's about to wet himself." Brandon continued.
"I hate all of you so very much." Torrhen growled before his mother approached him, placing a crown of iron and bronze, but lacking the blades, runes, and amber settings of the actual crown of Winter.
"The day has finally come, my little Torrhen is getting married." There were tears in the Queen'e eyes. Torrhen embraced his mother, as he comforted her, "It's all right mother, I will always be your little Torrhen even as your grandchildren swarm around Winterfell." This brought laughter to the Queen's face as she gave Torrhen a cloak, "This was the wedding cloak your grandmother was given when she was made queen of the North, it will look stunning on Visenya.
Smiling as the guest were all taking their places in the Godswood, Prince Torrhen stood in front of the Heart Tree, High Greenseer Wind Eye standing there ready to bless the marriage. Three years of waiting, three years of excruciating abstinence from the goddess made flesh that was about to become his wife was over.
Finally, at the gates of the Godswood, guided by her father, came the love of his live. Visenya looked as if she had emerged from a dream, the black and red cloak floating behind her. As her father handed her to him, the two looped their arms together, both smiling as they stared at each other with love and admiration. There in the Sight of the Gods of the Forest, with Torrhen placing the gray direwolf cloak on his Visenya, Visenya Targaryen and Crown Prince Torrhen Stark were married in the Godswood of Winterfell in the year 11 BC, with Visenya becoming Princess Visenya Stark. And with the loving kiss that passed between the two, the first pact of Fire and Ice was sealed.
That night after the celebration feast, Torrhen slung Visenya of his shoulder and carried her, both of them laughing the entire way, to his chambers. His Direwolf Forest sleeping right outside the door. Upon entering he threw his wife down on top of his bed of sheets and furs.
In a frenzy of hands and discarded clothes, the Wolf Prince and Dragon Princess were rendered bare of any clothes. That night, three years of patience and longing was ended with hours of pleasure. Moans, grunts, the names Visenya and Torrhen filled the room as the marriage was consummated. That night, both Torrhen and Visenya would fall asleep in each other's arms under a layer of sheets and furs, both completely content.
Did you think I would include the conquest with this one, well that's for next time later y'all.