A/N: Hey all, hope all is going well.

New chapter. I know you're gonna like this :D

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Chapter 36: Decisions

Angling her head back, Vhagar swallowed the last bit of the scorched steer carcass delivered by the dragonkeepers for her midday meal. The burned meat was barely the size of her mouth, so it slid down easily, a contented growl emerging from her throat. 'Quite delicious, muna. Thank you.'

Dowager Queen Visenya patted her wingshafts once more before again moving to Vhagar's head and snout. It was hard to speak to her dragon when she was the size of a small keep - only getting near the head made it reasonable, making Visenya miss when Vhagar was a hatchling and she could cuddle her in her arms. "You're just as adorable as you were when you were little."

Vhagar whined, which was ridiculous in her deep growl. 'Muna, come on…' Visenya couldn't help but laugh. Mindless, vicious monsters to their detractors, the dragons truly were smarter than many men.

The only creatures that could compare to their intelligence were direwolves, even if communication couldn't be made in the same manner as dragonriders with their dragons.

A snort from a bit away drew her attention. 'Makes me feel lucky… the last rider who knew me as a hatchling was centuries ago.' A single amber eye in Balerion's massive skull opened to look at them both, and to Visenya it looked like he was glinting in amusement.

From her growl, Vhagar felt so as well. 'Shut it.'

'Oh, I think not. Not when you're still small enough to be cute and adorable.' Balerion hooted, as if laughing.

The growl changed to a shriek. 'I could tackle you before and can do it again, so shut it.'

Visenya placed her fingers on her lips to stifle a giggle. "I take it the last time you did that was when you coupled?"

Twin amber eyes focused on Visenya, Vhagar then covering her snout with her wing. 'I am not talking about this!'

Balerion hooted again. 'Aye, it was… quite a wondrous moment. Dreamfyre could learn a thing or two from Vhagar.'

'I heard that!' The younger dragon - youngest of those with riders - screeched from where she slept. Snuggled against Balerion now that Visenya could see.

Love was stronger among the dragons than their riders, she could see. It was both heartening and… disheartening at the same time. Gingerly, she stroked Vhagar's head underneath her eye, cooing softly as she did when she was a hatchling. From how her muscles relaxed and the gentle growling resumed, Vhagar didn't shy away from the motherly affection.

With a rumble, Dreamfyre seemed roused from her sleep. 'Muna!' Visenya smiled - Rhaena was here, and her beautiful granddaughter always put a smile on her face. But the smile change to a frown as Dreamfyre whined. 'Muna, what's wrong? You look awful.'

'What? Is she sick?' Normally either teasing or crotchety, Balerion's worry didn't suit him.

Turning, Visenya found Tyanna leading her granddaughter into the domain of the dragons - nothing special, which made Visenya constantly lobby the small council to build a more permanent home for them. Rhaena did look rather sick, face pale and a hand clutching her stomach. Every so often she'd groan softly as if in distress with stomach malady. Oh dear… what's wrong, Rhaena?

Tyanna held her hand and wrapped an arm round Rhaena's waist. Nothing lascivious as Visenya had seen their touches before Rhaena left for the war in the Dornish Marches, but it was clear the intimacy remained. "My Queen."

"Tyanna." Visenya nodded at her before leaning down to cup her shorter granddaughter. "Sweet hatchling, what's wrong?"

"Tis nothing…" she started to say, only for Tyanna to interrupt her.

"She's been voiding her stomach all day, even after there was nothing left to void."

"Enough… I'm fine…" But as a tiny dry heave wracked Rhaena, her body clearly countered her words. "Gods, this is from the seven hells. I had to get a stomach malady as all this is going on!"

While the discovery of the Poor Fellows' smuggling to the Vulture King concerned Visenya, this… was more pressing. "You think this is a malady?"

Rhaena raised her brow. "What else could it be?"

Biting her lip, Tyanna leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "I think she may be with child."

"What?!" Rhaena shrieked. "No, that's impossible."

"It's very possible…"

Eyes widening for a split-second, the politically astute and experienced Visenya kicked in and she shushed the both of them. "Stop talking." They were isolated, but close enough to the city for wandering ears to potentially listen. And if the father of Rhaena's potential babe was whom Visenya thought he was… No one could know until they disclosed it on their own terms. "We need to fly somewhere to discuss this."

Rhaena rolled her eyes. "Is this really necessary?"

"Kessa." With an expert grace belying a woman thirty years younger, Visenya climbed up Vhaegar's spines after the dragon lowered her shoulder. It felt… like a second home for her astride Vhagar's back. "Well, come on then." Rhaena knew better than to disobey her grandmother, and whistled for Dreamfyre to come.

As her dragon ambled over, Tyanna looked confused - brows knotting on her sultry face. "Um… what am I supposed to do?"

It was Visenya's turn to roll her eyes. "You're coming too."

"What? But I can't fly on a dragon!"

"Yes you can." Rhaena pulled her toward Dreamfyre. "You'll just have to hold onto me." Visenya tried not to smile as all protest died from Tyanna and she merely nodded, biting her lip. Sovegon, Vhagar. The dragon hooted and vaulted off the cliff.

Feeling the wind whipping through her hair and against her face, Visenya relished being aloft. It was always the greatest of pleasures.

Behind, Rhaena, Tyanna, and Dreamfyre followed Vhagar, the Queen not seeking to keep them long. Far away enough from King's Landing would suffice - Dragonstone would be best but it wasn't necessary. Finally a secluded cove several miles north of the capitol caught her eye and Visenya signaled to land. Vhagar did so with ease, Dreamfyre not far behind. Rhaena seemed better after flying, a true dragon, while Tyanna clutched Rhaena's back desperately. Flush together, and not completely because of fear though her now pale pallor emphasized that. It was… amusing.

But such died, the gravity of the situation emerging. "Rhaena, are you with child?"

She looked disbelieving. "I told you before, I can't be. It's impossible."

"Are you a maiden?"

That drew a deep blush, the girl looking away. "Not anymore…"

Pursing her lips, Visenya studied her grandaughter. While pale from her malady, she seemed… perkier than before. A slight, glow about her now that her stomach settled. "Interesting."

She blinked. "What?"

"When was your last moonblood?"

"Grandmother!"

"Just tell her, Rhae," demanded Tyanna.

"Ugh, fine. It was about… five weeks ago." Crossing her arms, suddenly her eyes widened. "Five weeks…"

The truth was dawning on her, but Visenya wanted a little more. "Stand up straighter." Rhaena complied, leading to Visenya placing her hand on Rhaena's breasts - squeezing hard.

Rhaena jolted. "Grandmother! What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"They're bigger, and swollen," the Queen said matter of factly.

"Prepping to give the babe milk," Tyanna mused, sighing. "Should we get Gawen to confirm."

"No!" Visenya was firm. "No one must know about this for now."

Rhaena looked completely staggered. "I'm… I'm with child…?" Her legs wobbled. "But… I can't… I just… I can't be…"

Visenya caught her in her arms, holding her tight as the girl began to sob softly. "Tell me dear, is Maegor…?" When Rhaena nodded into her chest, that was all the conformation the Queen needed as she hugged her even closer.

"Princess, I can confidently say that you are with child."

Blinking, Rhaenys barely registered what the maester said. It felt… surreal, something that wasn't a fact for Brandon. "Gods be good!" He enveloped her in his arms, lifting her up and spinning her around. "Another babe!"

Being peppered with his kisses managed to spring her out of her funk, the Princess giggling. Eyes lighting up. "A babe, truly?" She addressed the maester but couldn't break her eyes away from Brandon. Each moment spent watching his grinning face was drawing her into a more and more joyous mood.

The maester chuckled, a young man just having obtained his chains yet hailing from White Harbor. Eager to prove himself. "Your stomach is firm and the bloating is normal for one carrying for just over a moon. I would stake all my chains on this diagnosis. Congratulations." Once Rhaenys drew Brandon in for a kiss… a kiss that quickly deepened, the maester made his exit. He clearly was no longer wanted.

A wise move, for Brandon picked Rhaenys up - she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Another babe, my love," she cooed.

"Aye, a beautiful child that will look just like you." His tongue laved at her neck, making Rhaenys moan and tilt to the side. Offering herself to him.

"Ooooh… or a pure Stark… like kepa." No more gorgeous man existed than her beloved wolf. A child that had the Stark coloring would be irresistible. "Oh fuck… please, Bran." Just the thought of what they created made her hunger for her man. And him for her. "Love me."

"Mmmm." Such an invitation was stupid to deny. "My Lady wishes her Lord to fuck her?"

"Yessss…" she moaned as she was pressed against the wall, his hand sneaking up her dress. "Please…"

This was gonna be quick and dirty. Middle of the day and outside of their residential chambers, both Bran and Rhae were needed on their duties so had little time. But even after a long marriage and three - now four - children, the lust shared between dragon and direwolf was nowhere near dead. His hardness poked at her cunt, soaked with desire for him. Rhaenys' dress was crudely yanked to her waist and smallclothes torn away.

"I liked those…" she complained, only to moan wantonly as his cock thrust stones-deep into her depths. Mouth open and lips quivering.

"You have more," hissed Brandon, beginning a bruising pace.

Hands digging into the nape of his neck, Rhaenys muffled her cries of pleasure by crashing her lips against Bran's. Bucking her hips, urging him deeper. "Fuck… you're so deep," she mumbled against his lips.

"My dragon…" His fingers splayed on her bare ass, pulling the cheeks apart. "My dragon… mine."

"Kessa, your dragon… my wolf…"

Her walls quivered around him, each assault upon her sensitive walls leaving her breathless. Rhaenys tightened her legs, the powerful limbs clutching him and driving him forward. She begged without words. Pleaded with her lips and tongue. Eyes fluttering open to meet his, violet against grey. Never breaking contact as their climaxes washed over and made them shudder in delight.

Foreheads pressed together, Rhaenys inhaled deeply, a satisfied smile upon her face as her legs slid back down to the floor… dress falling across her long legs. "We're gonna have another babe," she whispered, ever so happy.

"I knew we would… I always did." Brandon cupped her stomach with all the love in the world. "Like you or like me, I just know she'll be beautiful."

A brow rose. "She?"

"Aye, she."

Rhaenys' gaze softened and she pecked his lips. "A girl that will have no want for betrothals, I'm sure."

"Just like her muna, I suppose," Brandon laughed. "A Stark won the heart of the Targaryen, so perhaps a Targaryen for the Stark."

"I would have no objections to that."

Putting themselves together after their impromptu coupling - one that Rhaenys was sure would've quickened inside her had she not already been with child - the Lord and Lady of Winterfell refused to leave this as a secret and announced it to the keep. First to their own children and Lady Jocelyn and then to the household. Little Saera was the most excited. "I want a sister! I want a sister!" she kept begging, hugging her muna and nuzzling her still flat belly. One by one, Aegon, Alaric, and Ryah Bolton gave their love for their newest sibling, as did the direwolves. All across the household was there celebration, and Brandon declared a feast for everyone that night.

A feast in full swing, but missing the happy mother.

Rhaenys escorted herself out with nothing but her own blade and a thick coat as her protection. Well… not just that.

'Another hatchling, muna… hopefully a dragonrider unlike my valonqar.'

Stroking Arrax's muzzle as he gently nudged her stomach with his snout, Rhaenys sighed. "Please don't speak such of Alaric. He's a good boy."

'Oh, no denying that, but his egg hasn't hatched.'

"Perhaps there's a living dragon destined for him… and perhaps this wee hatchling."

'Aye, perhaps - though I'm curious as to why you're not celebrating with the wolf?'

She gave him a wry look. "Still call him that?"

'I could call him dinner like I used to, but you didn't like that.'

"Gods, you're just like Balerion." The dragon first of her kepa and now of Maegor's was a right cunt sometimes. "I don't know though… something doesn't feel right to celebrate."

'Why? You think you'll lose the babe?'

"No… it's not that." Rhaenys sighed. "There are a few duties I failed to do yet that I wish to before I go back."

'Was one of them telling me?' She nodded, to which Arrax grumbled softly. 'Well, you did, and I'm happy, muna.' Rhaenys hugged her dragon again.

A sense of foreboding filled her as she entered the cells. Rhaenys cupped her stomach, not wishing to be here… but a sense of duty drove her that way. "Is this her cell?"

"Aye, my Lady," spoke the guard. "The warmest one we have, as per your orders… you don't have to come here. Especially in your… condition."

"A proper Lady personally takes on her duties." Rolling her shoulders, she entered the cell while the guard stayed outside. "Good evening."

Hunched over by the fire, the woman wasn't dirty, yet unkempt all the same. "Mi'Lady," Gelina growled, staring at her with ice-blue eyes. "'Eard you had a pup in the belly."

Rhaenys regarded her, setting the torch she carried into a stand. "You heard correctly. Little remains secret within even a large keep as this."

"Makes me wonder why the fuck you are here."

"Was always intending to see to your condition. Got… distracted."

"I'll wager to that." Little did she eat, though her figure was far from emaciated. The dress clung to her like a second skin, her wildling furs that Gelina first insisted on wearing not lasting as long as she intended. A good bath forced upon her revealed… a rather beautiful woman minus the death scowl. "Still, with that babe, I'd think you'd be feastin'... on food or on cock."

Rhaenys snorted, ignoring the statement. "Have you still decided to decline my offer."

"Do you remember my last answer?" Rhaenys did. 'Ye' want me to talk the Free Folk into kneelin for your brother? Take it and shove it up your tight cunt.' "Hasn't changed, princess." The last came as a sneer.

Staring at Gelina for what seemed like an hour, Rhaenys took back the torch. "I've given orders to have you moved to confinement in a proper room. You are a guest, not a prisoner."

Gelina blinked, herself slightly shocked. A first for Rhaenys, who smirked. "Yer' call that a hostage."

"Yes, I believe we do. Enjoy it though."

"Why?" Rhae turned back to see Gelina watching her without a look of contempt for once. "Why are you doing this?"

She thought for a moment. "I'm having a babe. Consider it me being generous for the occasion." With that, she left the wildling chieftess to her own musings.

Mors was annoyed. Such didn't shock Nymeria, for she could count the times her hot-headed cousin was truly content with whatever lot he was given. Even being the Prince of Dorne wasn't enough to leave him quiet and happy, instead his petulant anger directed at various matters that changed by the day.

Today, it was directed at an embassage currently at anchor off of Sunspear as the skiffs rowed to and fro between them. "They're deliberately leaving me waiting," he hissed, arms folded together as a servant fanned him to ward away the heat.

Legs crossed and sitting comfortably, Nymeria tried not to laugh at him. "Cousin, I've seen grandmother deal with a lot of these things. Until there's a proper dock constructed that can handle oceangoing vessels, we're gonna have to rely on skiffs. And they take a while."

"No, the dirty dragon-whores are making me stew. Wanting me to crack."

"Calm, your Grace," proffered Malcolm Wyl, an ever-present addition to Mors' side whenever he was needed in any actual capacity. The true ruler of Dorne.

Nymeria didn't even try to challenge him. Not openly at least, and quite sparingly at all. That she wasn't discovered and tortured to death after her and Clarisse's stunt concerning the Vulture King still surprised her. Either Wyl was losing his touch, she was just that good, or he deliberately didn't care of the fate of their supposed proxy.

Honestly, she bet on the latter. As such, Nymeria had nothing planned nor would she in the near future.

The skiff bobbed down and up in the water of the bay on which Sunspear town and castle were nestled. A good harbor, but underdeveloped as most trade instead went through Planky Town several miles to the south. Household guards in their mustard-yellow surcoats and headscarves waded through the water to help the crew drag it on board - joined by the highborn passengers within. Nymeria pursed her lips, rather impressed.

Few Westerosi highborns would actually get their hands dirty like that. Almost all were pampered prisses rather, but Nymeria was willing to give these the benefit of the doubt…

And then her mind went blank, jaws nearly going slack.

Of the Westerosi, those under the thumb of the dragonlords that is, there were three of obvious noble birth. Two were stormlanders, one of whom sported the yellow-black stag of House Baratheon - formerly house Durrandon. He seemed the leader of the delegation. The third…

Was he a god?

No, but Nymeria couldn't find anything that made her look foolish for assuming so. Silver-blonde hair of the Targaryens were tied up in a bun, while the rest of his body fit lean but strong in sailing leathers. When he looked at her, Nymeria's breath hitched. Green eyes - sea-green eyes.

Absolutely breathtaking.

"Prince Mors." The Baratheon bowed. "I am Ser Rogar Baratheon, grandson of Orys Baratheon and member of his Grace, King Aenys' small council." Blue eyes darkened at Lord Wyl - he and House Baratheon… there was no love lost between them. "We are honored to be greeted by you," he lied. "These are my fellow envoys, Lord Jasper Dondarrion of Blackhaven and Ser Victor Velaryon of Driftmark."

A Velaryon. That made sense, considering they were of Valyrian stock yet not the same strength as the Targaryens. This Victor, he was young… likely not much older than Nymeria herself. How did he relate to the current line?

How in the name of the gods could he be so sinfully beautiful? It truly shook Nymeria.

Mors, silent, bidded Wyl to answer for him. "You must be tired for your long voyage. An escort to your chambers, followed by dinner. We can discuss our business then."

"Guest rite first," insisted Rogar.

"Of course," Wyl smirked.

Given Dorne's history with guest rite, it was Nymeria that was bid to offer it. One of Martell blood acting to serve the Westerosi tradition of hospitality proved an additional guarantee of their harmlessness. Rogar and Dondarrion accepted it with grunts, but Victor… his eyes were as vivid as the stormy sea. His hands very slowly eating the bread and salt. "Thank you, Lady Sand," he spoke quite softly.

He desired her too.

Oh, she was weak at the knees.

"More and more is being built by the day." Looking over the grounds sandwiched between the holdfast and great hall, Ceryse admired the hedges and trees planted there which hadn't existed before she left for Oldtown. "Your nephew has a green thumb, I suppose."

Maegor snorted. "No… he's like me, could judge a breastplate or sword just by looking at it but is lost in the finer arts of life. Rhaena and her favorites designed the gardens… notably Alys Harroway."

Ceryse chuckled, taking his hand. "Dear Rhaena has many skills, it seems, and associates with the same." She sighed. "She wishes to spend more time with me and I truly wish to, yet matters of court keep me occupied."

With her words, Maegor's good mood faded. Oh, Ceryse. He hated keeping this from her, but how would she react if he came clean… no, it had to only be when she was ready.

When it wouldn't destroy her.

"She is a mixture of both my munas."

"Both munas. Aye."

From her neutral tone, Ceryse's feelings on it could go either way. Maegor tried to probe that. "Does it bother you, how I characterize it?"

Looking up - herself about half a head shorter than her giant of a husband and therefore quite tall herself - Ceryse tilted her head in confusion. "I've not thought about it, mostly since Queen Rhaenys predeceased your birth."

"She is still my muna in spirit."

"I know." She looked away. "I love you, Maegor, but being a Targaryen… sometimes it is difficult."

"Because you were raised among the Seven?"

"There's that… also you are dragonriders. It is a level of greatness that both dazzles and leaves me feeling wanting."

He turned and took her hands in his. "You need not feel that."

Ceryse kissed his cheek but still sighed. "Mayhaps I cannot help it." She rested her head on his chest, letting him stroke her back. "My father and brothers warned me about the… practices of House Targaryen. Of the relation of your parents." Maegor's heart sank. "I love you so much that it matters not to me where your blood came from, but… it does seem daunting to tolerate sometimes."

Maegor wanted to scream, but instead he just hugged her close. Not even trying to expand the conversation to the relationship his two munas undoubtedly had. "I love you too… thank you for putting up with so much for us."

"I don't want it to be something to 'put up with,' but I cannot help it."

"I understand."

Journeying to where the dragons rested, he weaved around a sleeping Quicksilver to find Balerion. His neck was stretched out on the grass, but eyes open. Valonqar.

"Hey, boy." Never did he feel calmer than when he stroked Balerion. Being with Rhaena came close, but the chaotic situation scrambling his composure frayed those moments unfortunately. "Up for a ride?"

For the first time since bonding with him, Balerion grunted in the negative. You're gonna have to prepare yourself, valonqar.

He blinked, confused. "What?"

Want me to tell him? That was Vhagar.

I'll tell him. Dreamfyre sounded… angry at him. And Maegor had no idea why. Don't pretend to be ignorant.

"Honestly, I have no idea what's going on…"

Valonqar… Balerion nudged him, growling worriedly. You'll have a decision to make… and you're gonna have to choose wisely as your kepa did. As all your ancestors did.

Before Maegor, confusion and not a little fear written on his face, Vhagar cut him off. Muna's coming.

Muna? Sure enough, weaving around her dragon, was Visenya. A sad frown was on her lips, eyes finding him. "My son…" He couldn't respond before hugging him close. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, muna… what's going on?" Being among the dragons as something he had no knowledge of was playing out… it was unsettling. He was never unsettled among them, but here they knew what he did not, their amber eyes studying him. "Please tell me."

His kepa may have been reserved. Aenys liked to dance around an issue. Brandon Snow never explained anything. His muna though… she was direct always. "How long have you been sleeping with Rhaena."

Somehow, Maegor always knew his muna would sniff him out. "Since the campaign… though never before it." Her violet eyes searched for a further explanation, which he gave. "I love her, muna. I never meant for it to happen, but it did."

"I pray that you do love her, for she carries your babe."

Maegor reacted as if struck… "What?"

"You heard me, son."

"No… this can't be… gods…" He was close to hyperventilating. All his plans, his attempts to woo Ceryse and Aenys… Seven Hells, with Rhaena pregnant it completely immolated those plans in dragonfire.

All time he had was gone now.

"You're angry?"

"What? No, I'm not angry."

"Merely worrying about your wife?"

She always read him like a book. "Aye, I am."

"If we were any other family you'd divorce her and marry Rhaena, for you have no children with Ceryse… and yet you are of our family. You will marry Rhaena, and soon." There was no room for argument in her voice.

Not that Maegor was going to argue with her on that. "I always planned to, muna. I love her." Visenya's eyes softened. He pressed his hand on his heart, trying to calm the tempest sending it into overdrive. "Gods, how do I make sense of any of this?"

Visenya gently grasped his hands. "Just tell me one by one, my son."

He let out a deep breath. "If it was simply me, I would've married her in the Reach, but Ceryse… I love her dearly, muna. You opposed our marriage but we made it work… at least until the miscarriages." Just thinking of them caused his heart to ache. "She doesn't deserve to be hurt, and yet if I haven't convinced her of this…"

"Listen to me, son, if she truly loves you then this will not destroy her. She knew what we were and what House she was marrying. As for Rhaena, she is devastated. If you love her and want this babe, make it right." Visenya kissed his cheek. "I will depart to Dragonstone tonight. If you wish, I will marry the two of you there, away from prying eyes."

Soon, Vhagar's roar and a loud wingbeat found his muna departing, their silhouette disappearing to the east. Maegor crumpled and leaned against Balerion. "What do I do, boy… what do I do?" In his grief, he didn't even remember to speak in Valyrian.

Balerion understood him regardless. I think you know the answer to that, valonqar.

"A drink, my Lady?" asked a serving girl, her dress barely existing as she carried a tray of various fruit juices mixed with alcohol.

Nodding, Nymeria took one, sparing a lascivious glance at the girl's assets. All the girls here were simply delicious. She sipped the drink with a pleased sigh at the stresses finally leaving her. Gods, the negotiations were fruitless. Mors constantly yelling at those of the Westerosi while the Stormlander at the head of them yelling back just as loudly. When Wyl was someone to counsel restraint…

It was a shitshow.

And then Ser Victor Velaryon… Nymeria shuddered, though not out of disgust, but rather lust. She didn't understand it. Sure, men were fun but she'd always preferred beautiful women to them. Clarisse, Anya Yronwood, the Uller twins… mmm, they had been delicious.

But her thighs clenched and cunt moistened just from looking at Ser Victor. At the intense glares he gave her…

That he gave her now, shit.

There he was, in the brothel outside of Sunspear where she often snuck out to when she needed to blow off steam. His Valyrian features, striking but softer than the dragonfire of the Targaryens. Dozens of girls surrounded him, all gorgeous, but his eyes only had desire for her.

Oh gods, she couldn't resist.

The owner of the establishment, a summer islander with dark skin and big brown eyes, once worked the place alongside her oldest ladies - all now those that managed the new acquisitions as the brothel expanded on increased trade and the ship crews it brought. She had been sampled by Nymeria before, and occasionally made an exception for her. Normally such brought the noble bastard an ego boost, but for now… "Lady Sand, it brings me joy to see you," she gushed with her exotic accent.

Nymeria grinned. "My coin or my tongue?"

"I think both." They shared a laugh. "I'm afraid I am unavailable, so which one of my girls would you like?"

"None tonight, just an empty chamber." She forked over ten gold coins, each minted with the sun and spear of her house. "And complete privacy."

Her brow rose. "Seeking to bring someone you do not wish to be seen in the palace? I was unaware you did possess a sense of discretion."

Frowning, Nymeria leaned forward. "Just keep an out for the Seahorse and do not stop him from entering my chamber, understood."

Flickering to where the one stood, eyes widening in understanding, the owner nodded. "You may have chamber five, and I shall inform him personally." She kissed Nymeria on the lips, a languid one. "An added charge… enjoy yourself." Another kiss, this one instigated by Nymeria followed, and she was walking with purpose towards the rear chambers. She glanced towards where Ser Victor rested, himself enjoying the company of a swarthy whore - once they locked eyes, Nym gestured to the back, batting her lashes. At his nod, she knew he saw her.

If he was interested, he would come.

All around, the sounds of love and pleasure wafted into the dark hallway - illuminated only by lanterns surrounded by red glass. Giving a red glow to the place. Masculine grunts, genuine, were mixed with cries of feminine ecstasy, very likely not genuine, and all served to heighten Nymeria's lust. If Ser Victor didn't take her up on her offer, perhaps she'd get a girl and a boy and have her normal fun…

Two arms encircled her slender waist and yanked her back. In most circumstances Nymeria would've already elbowed back into the attacker's gut but she was drunk on the sounds of pleasure and thus spun to face the attacker. Sea-green eyes visible even in the red light calmed her quickly. "You are a tease," grumbled Ser Victor Velaryon, finally closing the distance and assaulting her lips in a hungry kiss.

Nymeria, though she would deny it later, moaned like a shy maiden and looped her arms around the Valyrian beauty. "Mayhaps…" she murmured against his lips. "I saw… you… and wanted… you." Tongues battled, making both tug each other closer - bodies pressed flush together.

"You… a chamber?"

She nodded. "Follow me…" Reluctantly breaking apart, Nymeria dragged him down the hall which she knew expertly. She was forced to halt every few seconds when he would pinch her ass through her dress or try to grope her breasts, but each time widened the grin on her face.

The door was unlocked, though had a latch inside which Nymeria slid into place as her strength rallied, pinning Ser Victor to the door as it was now her that initiated the kiss. His hands gripped her ass and began to hike up her dress, while Nym tore at his tunic and licked over to his neck. Sucking it hard. "Fuck… Nymeria."

Her name sounded so good in his accent. "We can't do this again…" she whispered harshly. This man was intoxicating, but given the climate of Dorne it would be unwise for her to start an affair with the son of a major Westerosi Lord.

"No…" replied Victor, fingers now rubbing her cunt through her smallclothes - making her buck her hips. "We cannot." They broke off so she could rip off his tunic, but lunged back into a hungry kiss. "But I want this now."

"Fuck, so do I," Nym begged, going for the ties of his trousers. "Never… never have I desired a man like this."

His eyes were almost dark blue. "Women?" She could feel his cock, a steel greatsword.

Of course he'd like that image. "Aye, but none like you." Such was true. Even with Clarisse - it was like her body was on fire, leaving her core sopping under the lash of his fingers. "Fuck all else, let's not waste this," she begged. His trousers dropped while she pulled back the straps of her dress to reveal her breasts. "Please…" Nym never begged, until now.

Victor pressed her up against the wall and lowered his head to her breast. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, laving and suckling like a breastfeeding babe. She gasped, rolling her hips for some relief while another hand grasped his dark silver hair. Down she reached with the other, Nymeria finding the organ she discovered she adored.

They moved simultaneously as her fingers curled around his cock. Nymeria splayed her legs wide for him. Victor slid his hands underneath her ass and lifted her up. She threw her head back, planting herself on the wall using his weight and looping her arms round his neck. Giving her the perfect leverage to slide down onto his rock-hard cock.

"Ooooh…" Nym groaned in ecstasy, her head pressed hard into the wall behind her. Driving him deeper inside her by hiking both her legs round his hips.

So strong was she, Nymeria stayed there, holding herself up by her legs alone as Victor began roughly thrusting upwards, his hands still gripping her ass. She mewled desperately as he dug into her ass, driving down on him as hard as she could. Chest heaving, breasts bouncing wildly and slapping against his skin.

"I'm so close…" she panted, to which Victor slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her forcefully. Swallowing her wailing cry of pleasure as he spurted inside of her.

I'm going to have to take moon tea.

Fuck, I don't want to… Of all the men she'd met, this one was worthy of siring beautiful, fierce babes off her.

Both of them panting from their climaxes, suddenly Victor picked her up. "How long did you pay for this room."

"All night," Nymeria replied.

"Good."

Silence reigned in the bedchamber, a dark, quiet silence. Biting her lip, Tyanna glanced at Rhaena - her closest friend and once lover perched on her bed with her pillow hugged close to her, knees pulled up to the pillow. She hadn't said anything since they returned. Not to her, not to Visenya, not to Alayne or Melony or Margaery or Jorelle when they tried to speak to her.

Tyanna saw the worry on their faces, all close friends of hers and genuine platonic love. "What's wrong with her?" Alayne, normally stoic, stated with an almost frantic concern. "She looks like she saw a demon."

"Should we talk with her?" Jorelle asked.

Melony looked over her shoulder. "Where's Alys? I thought she was gonna meet us." The more that could comfort Rhaena was better in her opinion.

Sighing, Tyanna shook her head. "I think she needs to be alone for now."

Margaery, always the more… inquisitive of the group, raised her brow. "Yet you think she wants you around then and not us?"

This was not a conversation she wished to have, but had to give an explanation. "I wouldn't wish to disturb her at this time, but I was the one that discovered her pain so I need to be there for her… I just need you to trust me. Please?" They weren't just Rhaena's friends, they were hers as well. Friends… for a bastard daughter of a courtesan. From how they merely nodded and hugged her, they did trust her.

And now the silence left Tyanna's heart racing. Was this what battle was like, before it was joined? No, this had to be more emotional, more visceral. Less terror and more… sorrow.

Tyanna, however, couldn't let it last. "Rhae?" She sat on the bed next to Rhaena, placing a hand on her arm. "My love, talk to me." She didn't wrench her hand away from Tyanna, yet didn't acknowledge her either. "Please."

Finally, Rhaena's bloodshot eyes found Tyanna's. "How could this happen to me, Ty?"

Pursing her lips, Tyanna shrugged. "You did sleep with him, Rhae."

Her eyes watered. "I know… and I'd do it again, yet this wasn't supposed to happen. This… this'll destroy him."

"His parents were in a marriage with Queen Rhaenys, so there's nothing stopping him from marrying you."

But she shook her head. "Ceryse… my aunt… she's a Hightower. They follow the Faith. She'll never be fine with this." There was doubt in Rhaena's eyes - Tyanna recognized such a self-destructive emotion. "He would've figured out a way, but I was stupid. I didn't take moon tea and destroyed all his plans." Tears fell down her cheeks. "Maegor won't want me…"

It killed Tyanna to see Rhaena go, to see her in love and loving someone else other than her, but her well-being was what she wanted. "Oh, Princess." She hugged Rhae. "Don't say that. I… I've never seen someone with any more sense of adoration than he to you."

"You're lying."

"I would never lie to you." Wordlessly Tyanna held her until there was a rap on the door. Gently kissing Rhaena's temple, she rose and opened it… "What are you doing here?" She wasn't afraid of the Prince.

Maegor, tall and powerful, nevertheless looked quite deflated. It would be… amusing if the situation wasn't so serious. "May I speak to my niece?" he asked. "I know."

"You do?"

"My muna told me."

"I see."

Rhaena's voice called out. "I'll speak with him. Alone." Casting one last look of worry at her, at Rhaena's insistence Tyanna sighed but nodded. Silently telling her that she'd be back if needed. With that, Tyanna ducked out and closed the door, leaving uncle and niece alone for the first time since the campaign. "Uncle," she choked out. Gods, he was so handsome. She found herself wanting him even now.

"Niece." The tearstreaks were obvious on Rhaena's cheeks, and he knew he was the cause of it. It broke his heart. "Please, tell me personally that it is true."

She sniffled. "It is." Rhaena made no move to get up. "I am with child."

"My child." There was no question in his voice. This had happened to him four times in his life, and each ended in tragedy that broke Ceryse and nearly broke him. Now with Rhaena… his beloved niece and woman he adored. "When did you find out?"

"Yesterday." She wiped away a tear. "Uncle, I have no wish to ruin your marriage or cause scandal. I'm sure grandmother would help me deal with this issue discreetly…"

"Marry me." Before Rhaena could even gasp, Maegor was seated on the bed and taking her hands in his. "I'm serious, niece. Marry me."

If her world was turned upside down earlier, this simply shook it in every direction and tossed it in the corner. "Uncle…" What could she say? What would she be able to see? "No, you don't have to do this."

"I want to do this." Was Maegor ever this gentle? The fierce, smeared as mad and evil, Targaryen Prince - rider of Balerion the Black Dread - was nothing but a man before her. A man in love. "I love you."

"Even… even given what we face."

He kissed her hand, smiling. "Thought a lot on my life. I love you. I love Ceryse. And even when the circumstances aren't ideal I must forge my path ahead." Seeing the tears starting to plunge down her, Maegor reached out to cup her cheek. "So, do you want to be my wife?"

Each word of his battered against her walls, and the last sent them crashing down. "Gods, yes. I love you too." That caused Maegor to grin and kiss her. Unable to wait, having wished to do it the moment he saw her and how beautiful she was.

Rhaena sighed into Maegor's kiss, letting him push her gently on her back. His hands were desperate against her shift, forcing it up, which made her moan. "You… too…" she mumbled against his lips - only for her man, her betrothed, to draw back to a whimper from her.

But that was mollified as he stripped off his tunic and trousers, eyes raking over his body. Rhaena would never tire at the sight. Soon he was nude, and right after she managed to peel off her gown. Suddenly she gasped, Maegor shoving her back flat on the bed, violet eyes dark and stormy with lust. "My wife," he husked.

She shuddered, feeling his lips on her neck. "Kessa… your wife…" Trembling, Rhaena closed her eyes as his lips and tongue worked against her hot skin. Gasping when his hand touched her belly, still flat but soon to swell with their babe. "Kepa to my babe."

"Our babe," he said with reverence. Maegor latched onto a nipple, breasts growing larger and making him frantic with his lips and tongue. Her fingers gripped his curls, pulling him harder against her breasts. Gods, everything about this was perfect.

All he wished was that he and Ceryse were on perfect terms, but life was the way it was. Maegor worked back up to her lips and gazed into the dark amethyst of her eyes with rapture. Kissing her lids, he felt her hand. Rhaena looked impatient, wrapping around his length and lining it up with her slit. "Please, love." He only kissed her

Rhaena sighed into his mouth as he finally pushed inside her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on as he began to slowly fuck her. Cunt rippling around him, a feeling she would want forever.

A feeling that after tonight, she would get forever.

This is all I've wanted… I'm so lucky.

Are you? Do you want this for him? The voice sounded like her aunt Ceryse, and there was a bit of guilt inside her. Do you want to hurt me, Rhaena?

No… no I don't.

And yet you likely will.

"My wife… I love you…" Her eyes opened and she was met with Maegor's. "Let go. Do it for me." Such was a command Rhaena could not disobey. All guilty thoughts disappeared, lost in the torrent of their pleasure.

She cuddled him close, not wanting a single stretch of skin not pressed against him. "So, when will the wedding be?"

"As soon as possible," Maegor replied. "My muna will do it on Dragonstone."

"I want my friends there, uncle."

"Done." He looked at her, getting lost in her violet eyes. "One night of bliss, then we'll need to face your kepa."

Rhaena sighed. "I know." She weaved her fingers in his. "I'll be ready if you're by my side."

Maegor kissed her brow. "Always."

A/N: There was truly no other plan forward for them.

The dragons are a hoot.

Rhaenys is pregnant, and expect much to come out of her budding friendship with Gelina. Same for Nymeria Sand and Ser Velaryon.

Till next time!

Enjoy and please comment!