A/N: Hi all. Good news, my grandfather is out of the hospital and back to his old self - he's 93 so as well as he can be. It was touch and go for a while but all's good now... thank God.
Anyway, here's the long awaited Nedsei Reunion!
Be sure to check out my new stories, Bet of Dragons and Dragonshield :D
Enjoy.
Chapter 76: Star-Crossed
Aegarax roaring as he landed upon the grassy soil, Lyanna bit back a grin at the surprise of the Northmen and Rivermen at how she and Rhaegar arrived in the army's camp outside Seaguard. "Your Graces!" Jorah Mormont, a familiar face, bent the knee before them. "You honor us with your presence here."
"We wish to speak with Lord Eddard," Rhaegar replied, not wishing to delay what they were about to do.
Ned could react in a myriad of ways, which was why Lyanna accompanied him. It would be easier for the two of them to comfort him if something went wrong.
Jorah nodded. "Of course, follow me."
In his tent, Ned hugged his sister and clasped his goodbrother's hand. "Gods, it is good to see the two of you again. Lya…" He beamed. "Another niece or nephew for I?"
"Two of them," Lyanna laughed. "Elia is with child too."
"Effectively twins," replied Ned, all of them sharing a merry chuckle. "But I do not believe that it is what you requested of me for this meeting." They all took a seat. "Now, tell me."
Rhaegar didn't wish to do this - it was quite awkward, but necessary. "Ned… what do you know of Cersei Lannister."
Ned went silent, all joviality leaving his demeanor and changed to… a guarded look. "Why do you ask?"
"You loved her, didn't you?" Lyanna asked, though knowing the answer. It was written on her brother's face.
There was no denying it. "Aye. Long time ago, I did."
Lyanna gaped - that she knew the answer wasn't to say it wasn't still shocking. "You love her still!" Gods, it made so much sense. While Catelyn's piety and pining after Brandon were clearly the main reasons there was no closeness between them, Ned pined too. His heart belonged to Cersei Lannister. "Don't try to deny it!"
"What do you want from me?!" Ned snapped at Lyanna, to which she momentarily flinched at the rarity of it. Rhaegar stepped forward with a hand on Lyanna's arm, as if to protect her from all harm. Ned calmed down from his ire, but was still bitter. "Years have passed, and such memories are nothing but pain to me. Nothing shall ever come of it." My son will grow without ever knowing me.
"That is not true," Rhaegar announced.
A snort. "And how can you possibly know that?" He was barely paying attention, playing with a copper goblet with a thin neck. "How, brother?"
Rhaegar shared a look with his bride, who gestured to Ned with her eyes. Tell him. "I know because as per her father's hand, you are now betrothed to Lady Cersei."
The stem of the goblet suddenly snapped, ale spilling onto the table and dripping down onto the grassy ground below - but Ned noticed not. Slowly, he looked up at his goodbrother. At his sister. "What did you say?"
"Lord Tywin wishes an alliance between himself and the crown, and alliances are procured through marriage." He'd omit the political issues - those weren't of importance now with Ned. "Given there are none of my family old enough to marry Cersei, he suggested you and I agreed." The King raised an eyebrow, expectant. "Do you have a problem with this, brother?"
There was a long silence, a myriad of emotions playing out within Ned's grey eyes. Often they were too complex to derive, even for Lyanna whom had known Ned her whole life. Finally, he spoke again. "How does she feel about it?" His voice gave nothing away.
Lyanna, clearing her throat, locked eyes with her brother. "She wishes very much to be married to the man she loves… and the father of her son."
For the life of them, neither the King nor the Queen could have imagined the breadth of the wide smile that formed on Ned's lips. "I accept." He stood. "We could ride for Casterly Rock today if you wish."
Blinking, Rhaegar just managed to keep his jaw from going slack. "Ned… are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I wish this done as quickly as possible."
What could they say? What could either of them say? Lyanna spoke first. "Husband, why don't you confer with the other commanders on the status of the siege. Allow me to speak to my brother."
A sigh. "Alright." He reached forward to clasp Ned. "You are my brother, Ned, and I wish for you to be happy. Take this bull by the horns and do not look back - marry for love."
"I intend to, brother," Ned replied. The two shared a smile before Rhaegar left - his wife and his goodbrother remaining. "I know what you're going to ask, Lya. And I'll tell you that yes, I knew of my son with her." At her wide eyes, Ned quickly explained. "I only figured it out moons ago, and most abruptly."
"I figured." Lyanna sat beside her brother. "Tywin obviously kept him under wraps, but how did you find out?"
"Catelyn…" Ned frowned. "She confronted me of it. I think the shock of it caused her to trip and lead to her death."
The Queen didn't need to ask over why he didn't seek out Cersei then. Guilt… guilt and self-loathing. Now though, there were no traces of it. "You didn't think Cersei would want you, brother? Don't deny it."
"Am I that transparent?" Lyanna tilted her head, as if asking if he was serious. "Aye, I suppose I am."
"But it is no matter. She wants you, desperately I would say."
"You spoke with her?" At her nod, Ned grew quiet. "And my… my son?"
Lyanna smiled. "A beautiful boy. He resembles Ser Jaime exactly, but is a Stark through and through. One can tell." She leaned forward and clasped Ned's hands. "I know now, Ned, you are going to finally have the happiness denied you for so long. Don't fuck it up."
"I won't." Ned was no surer of anything else in his life.
"D-a-r-i-a V-i-s-e-n-y-a T-a-r-g-a-r-y-e-n." Quill scribbling slowly on the cheap parchment, Princess Rhaenys spelled out each High Valyrian word. "D-a-r-y-s A-e-g-o-n Targaryen, v-a-l-o-n-q-a-r esh Daria Visenya…"
"No, Princess." Maester Aemon Targaryen tapped her on the shoulder. "It's Dare Visenya in that context."
Groaning, Rhaenys set down her quill. "This is dumb, Uncle Aemon. I already know Common Tongue. Can't we learn about the big dragons instead?"
Shaking his head, Aemon nevertheless didn't scold her. "My dear, I know you want to go on adventures and learn about your heritage, but you are of the royal house. Your lessons are important, lest others take advantage of you. Aegon IV Targaryen didn't bother learning to read High Valyrian and could barely speak it, thus allowing his…" Those tales weren't those he wished to broach to his six-nameday old great-niece. "...Court to trick him. You don't want that."
"No. I don't." Jon and Dany often tried to trick her and it was annoying. She thought for a moment. "Uncle, what does valonqar mean?"
"Most teachers say that it means 'little brother' in Valyrian, but the correct translation is 'little sibling.' Egg, Jon, and Alyssa are your valonqar."
"Krim...vo." She beamed at how Aemon clapped at her correct pronunciation. Those at the Citadel were of the theory that young children picked up language stronger than other age groups, leading Aemon's insistence in High Valyrian lessons for Rhaenys. "Jon and Dany won't trick me."
The words likely meant nothing - classic sibling rivalry that amounted to nothing. But for Aemon, a student of their family's painful history and one that lived it, he had to assume the worst. "Rhae, can you promise me something?"
She looked to him with innocent eyes. "Yes, uncle?"
"Prince Baelon is the Crown Prince and your father's successor. I know you've accepted it but… you cannot try to hurt your brother, ever. Promise?"
Rhaenys peered up at Aemon in confusion… and not a little sorrow. "Why would I hurt Jon? He's my brother, I love Jon." Her lip quivered at the thought of hurting her little brother - hells, any of her siblings.
"I know you wouldn't, sweetling." But Aemon very slowly knelt in front of Rhaenys, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was as if his eyes had returned their sight to stare deeply yet warmly at her. "But there are those that… will want you to, since your muna of whom you were born is not his. Do you understand?"
"Yes, uncle… I think so…"
"You have to protect him, Rhae. You two are the future of the dragons, and we must stick together."
She nodded. "I promise uncle. I will protect Jon."
Chucking her affectionately on the chin, pinching her cheeks, Aemon laughed. "You remind me so much of your grandmother. She was a ball of fire just as you." It brought Aemon so much joy to witness Rhaella claim the dragonrider mantle that his brother always hoped for her. If only Dunk, Rhaelle, and Aerys were around to do the same. Especially Aerys, Aemon sometimes shedding a tear for what his sweet nephew had become.
Not wishing to get too emotional, Aemon was saved by the distraction of Queen Elia entering he impromptu classroom - he didn't see it as he didn't see anything anymore, but she wore a pleated dress of orange and black, but in the northern style. Warm and form fitting. "Muna," called Rhaenys. "Is something wrong?" Elia never interrupted her studies - Lyanna did, sometimes taking her on rides into the city or on the beach when they were on Dragonstone.
"No, my love, nothing is wrong." She smiled at her daughter in reassurance. "How is she doing, Uncle Aemon?" The royal family did its best to reassert Aemon's royal ties in spite of renouncing them upon entering the Citadel. All the guards and servants addressed him as Prince Aemon, while the family itself called him uncle.
Aemon, ruffling Rhaenys' hair much to her protests, chuckled warmly. "A bright girl, my dear. Quite precocious, but headstrong and stubborn. For the life of me I cannot determine which part of her bloodline that comes from."
That was amusing to Elia. "Everyone says they are Targaryen traits, then they meet my brother Oberyn." A thought came to mind - Rhaenys with the Targaryen fire and Oberyn's zest for life… Poor Rhaegar. He's gonna be beside himself trying to keep her well-behaved. The Queen moved to her eldest child, leaning down and kissing the crown of her head. "Enjoying your lessons, little dragon?"
"I wanna play with the dragons, muna," she replied.
Elia laughed. "Perhaps later, but please answer the question."
Rhaenys sighed, exactly as her father was when boxed into a discussion he didn't wish to have. "Letters are boring… both common tongue and Valyrian? Why must I learn either?"
Why were all her children adorable? Elia knew she should soak it in while they were still little and innocent - and pray they didn't take after her brother once they hit puberty. I don't want grey hairs. "Do you want to be a dragon like your father?" Rhaenys bobbed her head up and down. "Then you'll need to learn Valyrian."
A sigh. "Alright, muna."
"That's my little Princess." She bid her to stand, hugging Rhaenys. "Some good news, your muna is coming back." Good news all around - Elia missed her she-Wolf something fierce. Won't be her and Rhaegar, but one is better than neither for now.
Her eyes lit up. "Really?! We won! But…" She made the connection. "If we won, then kepa come too?"
Elia looked at Aemon. "Should I tell her?"
"I think you should," Aemon smiled.
Looking at Rhaenys in the eye, Elia cupped her cheek. "Because she is with child and needs to be safe… as am I."
Widening, Rhaenys understood. "A valonqar, both of you?" The smile on her face could melt the moon. "I want to play with them now. Where are they?"
"They're still in our bellies," Elia laughed. Rhaenys mumbled something unintelligible at that, to which the Queen grinned. "But I have something else for you. Remember that Uncle Oberyn couldn't come to your nameday feast?"
"Uh huh," Rhaenys replied, still sad about it. The fact that Oberyn was ordered to Volantis at Doran's bequest wasn't something she wished to worry her daughter about.
"I know, sweetling, but his gift for you arrived today." From where her uncle Lewyn carried it outside the door, Elia took it and gave the gift to her daughter. "Here."
"What is it?"
"A perfect replica of Princess Nymeria's fighting spear, both ends tipped with blades… for your size that is. Your uncle is going to start teaching you how to fight just as she did." The family knew how she idolized Nymeria, and this was perfect.
Rhaenys squealed and jumped up and down. "Thank you, muna! Thank you!" Her happiness was completely worth it.
Today was the day.
The day long part of Cersei Lannister's sweetest dreams… and filthiest fantasies when the tension became too intense to ignore - many a sleepless night only endured by picturing this moment as she worked at her nub and gash…
Flushing, Cersei shook her head. Stop it. If she got worked up, the time would be interminable rather than the greatly irritating but bearable it was now. Taking a deep breath, the surreal smile returned to her face at the thought of it.
Eddard Stark would be riding into Casterly Rock today. His army left at Seaguard, a small retainer of Northern Lords and Stark Guardsmen would be escorting her love to the Rock as news of his acceptance of her father's terms reached her. He said yes! Not for the first time that morning, Cersei twirled around, letting her dress fan out around her. "He still loves me!" The prospect he did it simply because of Robb came to her mind… and the nervousness did eat at the fringes of her mood, but Cersei didn't believe it.
She chose not to believe it.
She probably didn't believe it.
Putting aside such thoughts, she shut herself in her chambers with only Malera, Jeyne, and Aunt Genna attending to her. Cersei insisted on looking her best and most ladylike, and her friends and family didn't disappoint. A dress of a pure crimson - gold lines fanning out like sunlight along the skirt - fit her waist like a glove while exposing her neck, shoulders, and just a hint of cleavage. The once fashionable deep sleeves were discarded in favor of a more form-fitting sleeve that Queen Lyanna made popular among the King's Landing court. Jeyne insisted on styling her golden hair, forming a pleated updo with two braids trailing on either side of her face - all accentuated by a gold necklace of three lion's heads her aunt supplied.
"He'll want to strip all of it off you the moment he arrives," Malera declared as soon as it was all done. Looking at herself in the mirror, Cersei knew she was right - few men could resist the Light of the West at her most seductive.
And now the waiting game.
Sitting on the bed with her back to the door, Cersei watched the ticking of the new device her father imported from King's Landing - a Braavosi device, some sort of mechanical timekeeper - each passing second adding her her nerves. Bringing out her deepest fears now that her aunt and friends were gone. Does he love me?
Cersei hated being weak-willed, but Ned Stark was the one chink in her armor. What if this is just political? Robb was in his chambers ignorant of the whole matter, but Cersei had elevated Ned so greatly to him. If the love wasn't there for either of them, merely duty to his blood and King, the boy would be crushed.
At hearing the door open slowly, Cersei took in a breath as she stood. This is it. Allowing the thoughts of her love to fill her mind, a smile spread across her face and Cersei began to turn. "My love…" At the image before her, the smile died.
"Are you trying to tell me something, sister?" Tyrion wore a grin, though it was more subdued than his usual drunken leers. "Or did you mistake my entrance for someone else?"
Everything prepared in her to see Ned, anger crossed Cersei's face rather quickly. "You awful little demon monkey!"
He mimed an arrow hitting his heart. "You wound me."
"Oh shut up. Playing with my emotions on this day of all days?" She crossed her arms, trying to not grab a hairpin and stab him through the throat with it. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Just wished to see if you wanted some refreshments from the kitchens." An obvious lie… one he couldn't even cover up this time as he fought a giggle.
"Get out!" she shrieked, and to his credit he did before Cersei threw something at him. Huffing, she plopped back on the bed with her back turned, shaking in anger. That monster… why must he torture me on this day? Tyrion undoubtedly knew how worried she was.
Perhaps he just wishes to get your mind off the whole thing? The voice sounded much like her mother, calm and collected.
Even so, while it may have been kind, Cersei wouldn't forgive her dwarf brother for a while for this.
The door opening again - not a minute after he left - drew a groan from her. "What is it, you little monster… come to torture me more…?" As she stood and turned with fire in her eyes and a snarl on her lips, it died just as quickly as her smile did earlier.
As biting as her words were, the mind of Eddard Stark didn't associate them with hate. "Well," he spoke, voice soft. "Much like our first meeting, this is." It was… quite nostalgic if he thought about it.
Cersei's entire expression and stance softened at the sight of her long-lost love after nearly four years. "Ned…" Voice taking a quality that would surprise anyone that knew the Cersei of the Aerys court, she rounded the bed and dashed quickly across the floor. Ned barely had time to extend his arms before she leaped into them.
"Cersei," he breathed, an immense weight on his shoulders he hadn't known he'd been carrying for years just disappearing. Ned's arms held her tightly round the shoulders, face burying in the perfumed golden locks. "Cersei."
A tear fell from Cersei's cheek - one of a profound joy that dwarfed any feeling the Light of the West ever held before apart from holding Robb in her arms for the first time. "Ned, my love." His scent was the same, arms the same refuge that made her so safe and so loved. Why did I worry? This was the embrace of a man whose love hadn't dimmed in its ardor and adoration.
He chuckled, trying to keep composed himself. "You're more beautiful than I remember."
Pulling back, Cersei cupped his cheek - looking over her wolf. He was the same comely, proud man she knew, but he'd changed as well. For the better. "You're… you're the Lord I'd always known you'd be." His rugged northern features had hardened, any youthful innocence lost in a firm build of a warrior. This man had been through it all and survived. Survived to come back to me, even if it took years. "I love you."
He reciprocated, cupping her cheek. "I love you too."
"Never stopped?"
"Not one day."
Practically both beaming and crying, Cersei's only response was to close the distance between them - mashing their lips together finally. Gods, it was better than her dreams or memories could even hope to be, how he sweetly invaded her mouth. Pulling her flush to him with his powerful arms.
She could feel the heat growing between them - an unquenching need to both luxuriate in their reunion while also proving it real. Proving it lasting. Proving that they were finally together forever and never to be apart again… His hands lowering to her waist, her kisses growing in ardor, the moan as his hips pushed against her dress…
But he wouldn't be her Ned if he didn't stop himself. "Cersei… please wait," he mumbled against her lips.
Breaking the kiss, Cersei's chest heaved. That kiss had been amazing… her best one. She'd had many bests with this man. "Why?" she asked, a smile curling on her lips as his beautiful grey eyes lay locked on her cleavage. The dress does work wonders. "I'm sure we have many important matters to discuss here." Not that they'd have much discussion, Cersei thinking of better uses for their mouths. "I finally have you and I won't waste time on horseshit." Without another word, she reached for the ties of his cuirass.
Only for his hands to stop her. "My son… our son." Ned looked at her, worn with sorrow. "I want this too, my lioness, but I need to see him. Please."
Any ire in her went away, replaced by pure love. "Of course." She took his hand, guiding him to the door. "I've told him all about you - his favorite stories are of the Kings of Winter," she laughed lightly, still feeling as if this was a dream.
No, she could never dream something this purely wonderful.
As for Ned, his heart pounded out of his chest. What was his child like? Did he look like him? Like Cersei's side? Her words lifted much of his worries, but the facts were he hadn't been in Robb's life - there stood the real possibility that they could never form a true relationship as he had with Sansa. "I pray he accepts me as his father… I may not measure up to the stories."
"You do," was her only response. I do not deserve this perfect man. Cersei knew she would need to take his other children as her own once she arrived in Winterfell - it was what Ned deserved, and she would give him everything he deserved and more if she had anything to say about it. They arrived at the nursery door, and by that time Ned had grown white and was shaking. "Did you have the same fear in battle, love?" It was so easy falling into such affections.
He shook his head. "No, I was calm then. This is much more frightening."
She giggled and kissed his chin. "You'll be fine. You're a good father already, from what your sister told me." Leaving it at that, Cersei pushed open the door.
Robb was as she left him, only instead of playing with his model knights and dragons he was about the floor, ticking the lion cub. The cub meowed, batting at Robb's hands playfully with his paws. "Good lion, you are," the golden lionwolf giggled.
Grinning at the sight, Cersei looked up at Ned, who stood transfixed. Unable to speak. He was rooted where he stood, simply staring at the boy. His son. Their son. Breaking the moment, Cersei cleared her throat. "Robb, sweetling."
His mother's voice immediately getting his attention, Robb looked up. "Momma." Smiling, the smile turned to confusion at the strange man next to him. He had dark hair but was clearly not Sandor or Uncle Emmon. "Who this?"
He was perfect. Ned looked the boy over from head to toe and back again - he held the Lannister coloring, but the Lord of Winterfell knew this boy was a direwolf. His son, his flesh and blood son with the woman he loved more than anything. Just as he knew Sansa and Rickard were his, so was Robb. Just as learning of his existence tore his heart apart, seeing him healed Ned of such pain.
"This is your…"
But Robb was perceptive. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the direwolf sigil emblazoned in Ned's cuirass, he gasped. "P...poppa?" That was the sigil on his aunt Lyanna's pin. He'd know it anywhere. "Is…"
"Yes, son," Ned croaked, getting on his knees. "Poppa's here."
"Poppa!" Robb ran into his arms much as his mother did, both tears and excited babble leaving his mouth. "I knowed you come! I just knowed it!"
With the love of his life by his side and his son in his arms, Ned felt complete. "Aye, pup. Not the greatest blizzard could keep me away." When Cersei joined them on the ground, her arms inching their way into the embrace, everything was perfect.
"Your Grace." Elia turned from the window to see Ashara enter, a smile playing at her face. "The gold dragon has been spotted."
Her breath caught. "She's here." Lya's here. Gods, the little clench in her heart could finally be released… well, partially released. Rhaegar was still in harm's way, but there was no way she could change that. Best enjoy my blessings, then. "Where are the children?"
"Dacey and your uncle are getting them."
"Good, let us go greet my wife."
Through the corridors of Maegor's Holdfast did the two Dornish beauties walk, Ser Arys and Ser Oswell trailing behind them. Ashara spoke to the Kingsguards and on occasion Elia, but the Queen's mind was elsewhere. Her hands clasped over her stomach, they ended up just tracing the slight swell of her newest babe. My babe…
Her fourth of her own womb, one of six if Elia counted her children by Lya's as well. They were hers as much as her own blood were, but this was different. Never was I to have a child other than Egg. My womb was rotted, destroyed, shriveled away as Pycelle then told me. But no more. A cruel memory but a memory nonetheless. It was all restored to her, the life dwelling inside of her as a manifestation of her love for Rhaegar and Lyanna - all for protecting Jon.
Elia would have done it even if it meant her death, but the favor of the gods was blessed upon House Targaryen. She would make it so that such a blessing always shone on her family. The thoughts played at the edge of her mind as Jaimexes swept down upon the courtyard, landing with a shriek.
It was a clearly tight fit atop Jaimexes' back - the golden dragon seemingly large but nowhere near even a modest draconic size - and Lyanna looked to be relieved upon swinging off and plopping atop the courtyard. Her boots clicked on the stone, maze of mail and plate armor form-fitting across her still slim waist jostling from the movements. "Gods, it's good to be on the ground," she announced to no one in particular, immediately going to the ties of her hair and pulling them out. Releasing her chestnut locks to tumble across her shoulders.
That was the last straw for Elia. With Wolfsbane clipped to her hip, Lyanna was a magnificent vision - the perfect mix of martial strength and feminine beauty. Seeing her hair fanning out, the Queen's feet moved automatically. Abandoning propriety to run to her.
Lyanna saw this, and her reaction was similar. She rushed to Elia, opening her arms and accepting the tight embrace. Lifting her up and twirling around with a happy laugh. "My love," she breathed, lowering Elia enough to place a passionate kiss on her lips.
Moaning, Elia melted into the kiss, raising her arms to loop around Lyanna's neck and opening her mouth for the she-wolf's invading tongue. Moments later they pulled back, breathing hard. "Lya…" Their eyes met, foreheads resting. "I was lost without you and Rhaegar."
"At least you have me back," quipped the Northern Queen, the two of them chuckling happily. Lyanna's hand lowered to cup her belly. "A babe?"
Elia nodded, grinning. "Same for you?"
A nod in reply. "Pregnant together… a dream of mine come true." They pecked each other's lips again.
Hearing a throat cleared, Elia peeked over Lyanna's shoulder to see Rhaella with a smirk. "Goodmother," she blushed.
"I shan't be offended, for I know what love can make one blind to."
Hearing Lya laugh, the Queen snorted and smiled bashfully. "Come." Elia guided her wife forward, melded to her side. Watching as Dacey led the cluster of children - both theirs and Rhaella's - towards Ashara. "Let's greet the children."
As soon as they caught a glimpse of Lyanna and Rhaella, the children were unable to be restrained. Mobbing their munas. Both women greeting them with beaming smiles and tears of joy.
"Have you minded your uncle, Daenerys?" Rhaella asked her daughter, holding her up.
She nodded. "Yes, muna."
Rhaella kissed her cheek, setting her down on the ground. As expected, the Princess immediately returned to her nephew Baelon's side. Their special bond remained unbroken.
An eye kept on her gooddaughters, Rhaella could tell just how… close they were. How they inconspicuously tensed and brushed their fingers over patches of skin. It wasn't hard to deduce what they wished to do, but with a gaggle of hatchlings it would be tricky. "Think I should put them out of their misery, my lion?" she whispered in Jaime's ear.
The knight kept his hands behind his back. "I do recall that the Queens did help keep the King occupied while we had our fun upon the Painted Table, your Grace."
Rhaella moaned softly, remembering that day - it had been a very good day indeed, fulfilling one of her longest sexual fantasies. He's right. I owe them. "Please, gooddaughters. I have missed my grandchildren quite much." She hefted Baelon into her arms, flicking his nose to giggles from the Prince. "Dear Prince Baelon, have you missed me?"
"Yes grandmother," replied the dutiful Prince. "Tell me dwagon stories."
"Of course that's what he misses," Rhaella laughed.
"Dragon stories, grandmother," begged Egg.
"Yes, please muna?" added Daenerys, her eyes wide and innocently pleading.
Rhaella smirked at her gooddaughters. "Seems they are insistent. It'll probably take until suppertime, so you'll have to find something to make due."
Their eyes sparkled as they understood. "Seems we do, goodmother," Lyanna mused, taking Elia's hand and wrapping their fingers together. When they thought Rhaella was out of sight, Lyanna picked up the pace, pulling a giggling Elia towards the royal chambers.
But the Dowager Queen had seen it. Ah, young love. Eyes flickering to Jaime, his green eyes twinkling at her, she felt a twinge in her core. Even I suffer from it, and I am no longer young.
Not that she minded.
Family came first. Both of them agreed on that point. The long afternoon found Ned and Cersei spending their time with their son, Robb exhausting himself in his pure joy at his father finally arriving in Casterly Rock. Whatever wishes for a more… intimate reunion were dashed due to their son, but they didn't mind it. Not when their son was involved.
A dinner hosted by her father and the King to celebrate their betrothal - joined by the senior bannermen of House Lannister and House Stark - was less enjoyable, but the joyful air and Tywin allowing them to sit alongside each other made it more tolerable. Rhaegar and Ned swapped stories of the past, while Tyrion's quips once he was deep in his cups were more irritating to the Lannister patriarch than the happy couple. Neither Ned nor Cersei ceased contact once, even if it was merely their fingers brushing against each other.
This was a sentiment they carried long into the night, all pretenses and duties banished away. Officially granted chambers in the guest wing next to Rhaegar's, the King nevertheless bid Ned goodnight at the end of the feast, winking as he explained that he wasn't likely to see his goodbrother until the morrow. Rhaegar was proven right when Cersei took Ned's arm and led him to her chambers after putting Robb to bed.
One look at her eyes, her smile that could melt the Wall, and all hope of resistance died as Ned followed her.
"Oh, Ned." All had led to their current configuration - Cersei threw her head back, hands fisting in Ned's long hair. He worked on her cunt with gusto, as if a man dying of thirst. Mayhaps he was, both of them were. Thirsty for each other after so long. "Fuck, don't stop…"
Shifting up, Ned lashed at her nub. Groaning at her wonderful taste, how Cersei so willingly gave in to her pleasures and made sure that he knew just how she needed him. Made him want to give her such pleasure. How had he ever endured without this? Remembering what she liked from their torrid few weeks together years ago, he angled two fingers and speared through her gash - curling them deep inside her.
Cersei's eyes flew open. "Fuck!" Biting her lip, she screamed silently as her climax washed over her.
Ned lapped up all she gave. Nearly a quarter hour had passed since her direwolf stripped her dress off of her body and ever since, his tongue had been lapping at her. Tickling her inner thighs with his beard as he peppered kisses across the creamy skin. He chuckled at her breathless expression. "I take it you enjoyed, Cers?"
She smiled at the pet name for her. It was so delightfully domestic… but now what she wanted wasn't domestic. "Come here, my Lord," she husked, tugging at his shoulders. Cersei moaned in contentment when his weight was draped over her, kissing her neck and shoulders. But it wasn't enough. "Ned…" Her legs wrapped around him.
"Impatient are we, my lioness?" Ned asked, his hand running down her bare leg - making her shudder. His eyes smoldered at her reaction. "You are."
"Only with you," she replied. "No one else." Even her youthful indiscretions with Jaime were nothing compared to what she felt with Ned. Cersei bucked her hips into him. "Please don't make me wait…" She didn't finish because Ned was on her again - cock spearing deliciously into her. "Ahhh… fuck… yesssss…" Gods, she missed this. Denied for years, only for providence to bless them.
Ned rocked into her, groaning at the sensation of her wet walls sheathing him - impossibly tight and supremely inviting. "I dreamed of this, Cersei," he whispered to her. "Every night I would sleep thinking of you. Missing you." It used to shame him, married to Catelyn at the time. But Ned had done his duty by her, and now he was reunited with his true love. He would never be ashamed again for his love for her.
If it was possible, her cunt grew even wetter from his words. "What did you… gods… miss about me?"
His eyes darkened, looking her in the eye as he pistoned into her harder - pinning her arms down. "Your eyes, your mouth, your smell." Ned leaned down, nuzzling her breast. "Your teats…" he said almost bashfully, but voice thick with desire. "Your cunt, your taste."
Cersei screamed as he suckled on her nipple, timing it with a deep thrust. "Yes, Ned!" It was so good. "Cum in me! Make me a mother again!"
His duty screamed to stop, to wait for their wedding night to accomplish the task every part of himself desired - but Ned was right. He couldn't stop. She was sin, his sin, a long-awaited dream finally reached that he'd be damned if he wouldn't enjoy and cherish.
Cersei had been right after all. They were to marry, and the presence of Robb dashed any pretense of chastity on their part - not that he had it, given a previous marriage and two children with her. But there was no comparison between Cersei and Catelyn. Never in his marriage did his wife wrap her legs around his waist. Never raking her nails down his back, bucking her hips as she whispered filthy urgings and sweet nothings into his ear, begging for him to finish her.
To finish inside her.
Yanking his head up, Cersei greedily sought out his mouth. Their tongues battled, Cersei screaming her new climax just seconds before he erupted inside her. Fingers digging hard into the muscles of his back, the two of them skin to skin as they rode out the intense pleasures of their coupling.
When they were done, Cersei rested her head on his chest. Giggling contentedly, she couldn't stop pressing feather-light kissed on the scars littered on him from the battles of the Rebellion. "My gods… better than I remembered."
"I would hope so, my lioness," Ned chuckled, utterly relaxed. "I love you."
She swooned. "I love you too."
He absentmindedly toyed with her long, golden hair - one of his favorite features of her. "Thank you, Cers."
Cersei looked up into his grey eyes. "Why are you thanking me, my wolf?"
"For taking care of our son. You've raised him so well…" A sad look crossed his eye. "And I wasn't here for any of it."
Cupping his cheek, Cersei kissed him. "You have no reason to hold shame, Ned." It was her father's fault… and hers to an extent. Tywin Lannister inspired much fear, even to her apparently. "He loves you, as does his mother. That will never change."
"Were you serious earlier, Cers? That you want more children with me?" Four were enough for his father, and he had three healthy babes - Ned would be fine had Cersei wished to end here.
But she nodded firmly. "Yes, my love. Many children." From what Tyrion had told her of the North, House Stark was in a precarious state. Catelyn's boneheaded decisions were going to lead to ruin as the years went by, and her wolf needed intelligence and strength. Steadfast leadership, cunning subterfuge, and a large family of plenty of heirs and spares to provide him added security. All combined with her love for him to make her certain. "Plenty of beautiful babes, a mix of you and I." Grinning, she swung atop him, straddling his hips. "I want them, Ned. I want you to give them to me."
Feeling her warmth grinding into his crotch, Ned's mouth grew dry. "Cers…" The discussion was an important one, but the quiet wolf could feel the blood rush down to his lower half - hands going to her waist almost automatically.
Eyes sparkling, Cersei moaned softly as she felt him rise back to the occasion against the join of her legs. "Yes, my wolf?" She rolled her hips, loving just how his breath caught.
"If you keep going, then I won't be able to control myself."
"Perhaps I don't want you to control yourself." She grabbed his hands, bringing them to her breasts. Grinning madly as he began to knead them without prompting. "I want another babe, Ned. Another lionwolf that will bring House Stark glory and prosperity." Cersei felt his head poke at her entrance, gladly lowering herself onto Ned's hard cock to the gasps of both of them. "Spill your seed into me, Ned."
All hope to stop was gone - not that Ned wished to stop. He never wanted to stop.
The wolf in him growled, wanting just what Cersei did. It mattered not, they'd be married before the moon was out. He grabbed her hips, rocked his own, and reveled in her shrieks of pleasure.
Ned knew how lucky he was that he'd hear these noises for the rest of his life.
With a friendly wave, the fishing vessel signaled over to a longship. It bore the colors of House Velaryon of Driftmark, the white seahorse on a field of turquoise, emblazoned on its sails. Not an uncommon sight on Blackwater Bay, though with the majority of the fleet departed for Shipbreaker Bay there was an oddity to it.
When his son voiced it, the elderly fisherman laughed it off. "Probably out here fishing just as we are." An august house, the Velaryons enjoyed the bountiful luxuries of the sea as did all other coastal highborn families, and he made several large chunks of coin from providing it to them. "Toss lines!"
Throwing the ropes across the gap, it took only a few minutes for the expert crews on both ships to draw the two alongside each other. "Greetings, friend," said a slender, brown-haired man with a strong posture - likely a highborn. "First time we saw anyone since passing Massey's Hook."
The fisherman laughed. "Aye, storm's comin'." He pointed off into the distance, where black stormclouds churned and fulminated over the expanse of the Narrow Sea. "Will likely hit 'ere by evenin'. Trying to get a bit of harvestin' before that, no others competin' with me that is." Both of them shared a laugh. "How's about yourself?"
Shrugging, the man looked to his ship, three other men stepping long to join him on the fishing boat. "Going to King's Landing."
"Oh? Gonna try to make some gold dragons sellin' to the dragons? Ser Davos at Sealion Point too thrifty for ya?" He laughed again.
This time, the other man didn't laugh. Only grinned… something evil flashing in his eye. "Gonna take the Red Keep, and capture the Queens for myself." He enjoyed the confusion and then horror in the fisherman's eyes before shooting his arm out - the hidden dagger in his sleeve slicing through his belly like wood through butter.
"Father!" the son cried, only for one of the hidden reavers to draw a short sword and behead him where he stood.
"Clear them out!" Euron Greyjoy shouted, laughing in an altogether different form of humor. Wordlessly, he kneeled and cleaned his blade off of the man's coarse wool shirt. Filthy, but it got the blood off.
The three men returned from below decks, their swords smeared with blood. "We finished the rest off," the lead told Euron.
"Scuttle the boat. They'll all be crab food within the week."
"Already done, my Prince. Bashed a hole in the hull myself."
Euron nodded. "Good, back to the ship." Leaping from the hull of the rickety fisherman, the Demon of Oldtown saw a flash of lightning crackle in the not so distant open seas to the east. A storm was a coming, and with it the providence of their god.
They won't fuckin' see us coming. Screw his idiot brothers. They brought defeat, but Euron Greyjoy would forge himself into a legend.
A/N: And I hope I did the reunion justice :D
Rhaenys is so wonderful, loving her siblings so dearly.
And uh oh... Euron's in Blackwater Bay!
Drop a review and be sure to check out Dragonshield and Bet of Dragons. More reviews I get, sooner an update comes out :D
