A/N: Hey everyone. Hope y'all are doing well. With work, wedding, and moving this week, I'm a walking corpse at the moment.

In any case, the thrilling conclusion to the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Good news, with Bet of Dragons done, my one shot done, and Targaryen Dynasty wrapping up (check them all out, I promise you'll love them), I shall be starting a new project: a modern romantic comedy (with plenty of smut) starring Jon and Daenerys :D It'll be posted on Ao3.

Enjoy.

Chapter 83: Nameday

Sweeping up through the air, Rhaegar felt the salty sea breeze shower him with droplets. He blinked them away, guiding his dragon to hover so he could see the destruction below him. In the distance, Lordsport was burning as the royal armies poured through its harbor and ravaged center. Crack forces charged towards the defenses of Pyke itself while many Westermen and Northmen dispersed to loot and plunder.

Many bastards would be born in nine moons - such was the terror of war. Rhaegar blamed Balon Greyjoy for making it come to this.

Among the battlements, smashed through by artillery and siege pieces from the landing force and the ships, the Targaryen army cut their way through the palace. Thoros of Myr, flaming sword alight as he crested the walls. Gregor Clegane, a massive mountain of a man that threw all of his power into the fight. Caving a man's head in with a single punch and decapitating a trio with his claymore. Ned, Ser Arthur by his side as the two of them pushed a shield wall through one of the breaches slaughtering all that opposed.

'We must help them.' Aegarax hooted towards a large tower, bristled with artillery pieces and firing waves of arrows and projectiles against his army.

Seeing the shield wall stalling, hundreds of armored knights and light cavalry milling behind the lines rather than launch through the fusilade of fire, Rhaegar tightened his lips and gripped his dragon's spines. "Dive upon them! Dracarys!"

Rhaegar could've sworn the dragon's snout curled into a grin. 'With pleasure.' Shrieking, Aegarax dove straight for the tower.

The heaviest artillery pieces were surrounded in a circular wall around the tower - three trebuchets and a dozen smaller catapults that looked to be taken from a ship and installed there haphazardly. Boulders and flaming jaws of pitch sailed out towards Rhaegar's armies at as fast a pace as the engineers could launch… their hectic tenacity drawing attention away from everything else. And they paid for it when the Sunrise Dragon unleashed the seven hells upon them.

The stream of dragonfire breathed back onto Rhaegar, a sheet of heat that enveloped him. Anyone else would've roasted, but Rhaegar basked in it. Felt it surge in to his very blood and soul. It felt invigorating, eyes glowing with power and fire as the Ironborn disappeared into the flames below - their artillery reduced to ash and charred timber.

Suddenly arrows began to pepper the two of them. Rhaegar's armor and Aegarax's scales managed to keep them out, but one embedded itself into the dragon's back and caused him to roar in pain. "Swing up! Burn the tower!"

With a flap of his wings the green dragon thundered upward. Again did the dragonfire emerge in one long jet, scorching the walls. Shooting through the windows to incinerate the archers and crossbowmen before they could even scream. A fire that traveled up the tower, fueled by the unending jet that would immolate through every window and firing port at each floor. Rhaegar soon saw the top, a man whose surcoat was displayed with the golden kraken of House Greyjoy itself.

Prince Maron, his knees shaking in fear. For my son. Rhaegar knew he looked a demon and reveled in it. "Dracarys!" Thus ended the life of Maron Greyjoy, enveloped in dragonfire that recreated the destruction of Kingspyre Tower by yet another Targaryen King.

Deprived of any form of defense, Pyke was as helpless as Lordsport had been. The armies surged forward, slaughtering their way towards the keep. No mercy was given nor was it expected. Archers and crossbowmen shot down the Ironborn trying to destroy the rope bridges across Pyke's keeps, while men with grappling hooks scaled the walls. Nothing was going to stop them from their vengeance.

Watching all of this play out, the King finally guided his dragon to land before the final keep. An overhang provided the perfect landing platform, dozens scrambling out of the way for the Sunrise Dragon.

"HEAVE!" Rhaegar's ears rang as the battering ram crashed into the thick Ironwood door. "HEAVE!" Another crash, the wood only groaning but holding firm. "HEAVE!"

The King rested his eyes on his Hand and his goodbrother. Tywin was rather clean, his armor untouched by the battle as he merely directed troops from the rear… no mean undertaking considering the complexities of their rushed attack. Ned, on the other hand, was covered in grime and dried blood. His armor was dented in places and there was a gash on his forehead but he looked otherwise unharmed. Thank the gods… Their family had lost enough. "Problem here?" he asked loudly.

Ned looked to him and gave a tired smile, while Tywin merely cast his eyes before glancing back at the task at hand. "Finished off the last of them," the Lord of Winterfell commented before pointing to a man bound and gagged, writhing at the hold that two Northmen whose boiled leather cuirasses were emblazoned with the sigil of House Forrester. "Rodrik Forrester and Royland Degore. The two of them found Victarion Greyjoy trying to escape in a skiff. Didn't end well for the cunt."

"They didn't kill him? I admire their restraint." Rhaegar moved to Tywin. "So what's going on here?"

"Balon's barred himself in his throne room like the cowardly insect he is." The ram crashed against the door again, but the wood failed to budge.

Rhaegar cracked his knuckles, a frown on his face. There was no patience left within the Sunrise Dragon. 'Let me burn them, kepa.'

Wait, my son. "Everyone out of the way!" the King bellowed. There was a moment's hesitation before the dozens of bannermen of various houses retreated - Rhaegar's intention clear as Aegarax ambled forward, his teeth bared and smoke exiting his nostrils. "Dracarys!"

Aexarax screeched and let out a burst of sustained dragonfire upon the door. Flames billowed out in a cloud around it, and at first the Ironwood held - a strong and sturdy wood of the North, ironically enough. But eventually it began to give, splintering and charring from the immense heat given off by the sunrise dragon. Aegarax didn't hold back, the gout lasting interminable seconds until finally the hinges snapped from the wood and the door came crashing down.

Without delay, Rhaegar drew Blackfyre from its sheath and leapt into the still billowing cloud of flame. The dragon stopped, and it soon changed to but a haze of smoke. Edges of his red cape smoldering with orange scorches like some sort of fire demon from the pits of the seven hells, the guards of the Salt Throne trembled or pissed themselves in sheer terror of the Dragon King - silver locks free and violet eyes glowing.

One charged, screaming madly. Rhaegar dodged the blow and brought Blackfyre about his back. Another came with axe held high, but Rhaegar threw himself forward and buried his sword through his middle. Blood coated his armor, his face, but Rhaegar didn't care. A powerful dragon in his own right, finishing off all that would threaten his family.

A dozen guarded their King, but all were felled. Some by Rhaegar, some by the crossbows of the Lannister men-at-arms, some unlucky souls by Aegarax's dragonfire, the forces of the Iron Throne storming the throne room. Soon, all that was left was Balon Greyjoy himself, stubbornly clinging to his throne and his crown as if they could grant him protection.

They wouldn't.

"Balon Greyjoy!" Rhaegar leveled Blackfyre to the traitor, Aegarax directly behind him. "You are vanquished, surrender your crown!"

The so-called King of the Ironborn gave him a hateful glare on his hardened face. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? Valyrian shit! Burning my family as your demon ancestor…"

He was cut off as Rhaegar simply closed his mailed fist around Balon's robes and yanked him down. Throwing the old man to the ground in an unceremonious heap. "Look at you!" Rhaegar roared like a dragon. "Sad, pathetic old man!" Balon tried to rise but Rhaegar slammed Blackfyre's hilt into his shoulder, causing him to cry in pain and fall on his hands and knees. "Traitor! Murderer!" A kick to the stomach made him double over, coughing and hacking through his lungs. "You tried to kill my family and now you still hold pride, you little worm?!" Another kick. "Wriggle like the fucking worm you are!"

Seeing the pure murder in Rhaegar's eyes, a look not unlike the Mad King, Ned's heart pounded. "Brother… please control yourself…"

"Stay out of his, Stark," Tywin barked. He rather liked this side of the brooding King. "Just kill him, your Grace," Tywin shouted, a sneer on his face. "He doesn't deserve to live."

'Yes, kepa.' Aegarax clawed his way forward, just small enough to fit into the low vaulted ceiling. 'Let me burn those that would harm munas and the hatchlings.' A roar emphasized his pont, deafening many. 'LET ME BURN THIS BUG!'

For the longest time, still seeing the gaze of hate whenever Balon could overcome his pain and stare hatefully at him, Rhaegar was tempted to do just that. To end House Greyjoy as Aegon the Conqueror ended House Hoare before it. To end all the houses that defied him in Fire and Blood, just like his ancestors before him. His mouth opened to give the order when a hand gripped his swordhand…

Rhaegar almost slammed his fist into the insolent wretch… until seeing Ned's grey eyes fixed to him. The attack ended immediately - to his credit, Ned didn't flinch. "Don't, brother."

"He deserves it."

"That may be, but you're better than him." Slowly, Ned moved forward, easing Rhaegar's arms down with his own. "Answer his perfidy with justice, not vengeance."

"He will not get away with this, Ned."

"I'm not asking you to, just act smartly. Don't let the same madness that consumed your father from consuming you."

Seeing his goodbrother stepped away, Rhaegar looked to him… to Tywin… to Ser Arthur… and back to Balon. Remembering his plan buried by the rage of his dragonblood. Euron, if he ever caught the savage beast, would be rended alive and fed to Aegarax but Balon deserved something else. "Balon Greyjoy. You will watch as your armies burn. You will watch your domain stripped bare of any hope to raise another fleet. You will watch your keep be plunged into the worst poverty as all your remaining children are ripped from you." He enjoyed it as the man's hate slowly morphed to fear. "You wanted it all, and you get nothing but storm-ravaged rocks and hungry bellies, only for me to rip it all from you again and give it to those of your blood raised as those of my family."

"You will never see us broken, dragon," Balon wheezed.

Rhaegar smirked darkly as he kicked him between the shoulderblades. Making the battered Lord collapse again. "I broke you, Greyjoy. You have nothing and are nothing." Reaching down, he stripped the driftwood crown from his frayed grey hair. Pathetic old man. Before his father had succumbed to the machinations of the God of Death, Aerys had been a great man. Balon… he would never be great, a miniscule man with delusions of grandeur.

It was time he saw what real grandeur was.

"Never again will a Greyjoy, or any house of the Iron Islands, rise again to challenge the House of the Dragon. Fire and blood have destroyed you twice, and thrice will be your annihilation if you make it necessary." Thrusting the crown high into the air, Rhaegar's voice roared. "DRACARYS!"

Aegarax enveloped Rhaegar's arm and hand in a stream of the orange-red harbinger of death. The armor plates melted, smoke and soot wreathing the hand, but the skin was undamaged. The flesh untouched. Men stared in wonder as the driftwood crown was reduced to nothing but ashes.

"Fire and blood!"

The men cheered as Aegarax roared. "FIRE AND BLOOD!"


Head emerging from underneath the sheet, Grand Maester Qyburn let out a breath. "All looks good, your Grace. A healthy pregnancy on your end."

Elia released a breath that she didn't realize that she was holding. "Thank the gods," she murmured. Rhaenys' and Aegon's pregnancies were touch and go for most moons and she had been reduced to bed rest for the last two of them - Alyssa's was a breeze in comparison seeing Elia dash about the Red Keep on her Queenly duties only to give birth in a quick six hour labor. While she knew in her heart that Tessarion's gift had brought her womb to the greatest strength, still the worry of the past was ingrained in her.

A hand reached out to squeeze hers. The loving face of Lyanna washed away her worries. "I'm so happy, my love."

"As am I," replied the Dornish Queen with a smile.

"Not as happy as am I," Rhaella proclaimed, dressed in her riding dress as she had been astride Jaimexes not an hour before. "Nothing is more delightful than watching one's grandchildren come into the world… since I'm not the one experiencing it." She chuckled at the jape.

"Of course, goodmother, of course." Lyanna rolled her eyes… "Oww… Uncle Aemon, be gentle."

The blind Maester smiled apologetically. "Forgive me, Lyanna." He had two fingers pressed to Lyanna's stomach, tapping with his other hand atop them to feel the swell within. "Hmmm…" he thought, lack of sight not taking away his expert diagnostic touch.

Grimacing, Lyanna felt the shifts and moves within her womb. "Can you not, uncle? The babe is doing dances upon my bladder."

Elia giggled. "Alyssa was like that. You're raising a vicious dragonwolf, you are my love."

"Gods help me." Lyanna's head fell upon the pillow. "I changed my mind. I don't want more babes."

"Made your bed, my love," Elia beamed.

"Plus your resolve is toothless, gooddaughter," Rhaella added. "You and Elia, when I pass your rooms when Rhaegar is here it's more like three beasts than men."

"Goodmother!" the Queens both exclaimed while both Aemon and Ser Jaime hid smirks. This… it felt nice. With the Ironborn defeated and the war concluded, all that was needed was for Rhaegar to come home and the family could be united again.

Everyone wanted Rhaegar to return… especially poor little Baelon. The lad was in the godswood every day praying for his father to be here for his nameday, the poor dear.

"Alright," Aemon said, interrupting Lyanna from her musings. "Nothing amiss here."

"You sure?" She had caught how his brows furrowed at one moment and was concerned.

Aemon shook his head. "Of course, nothing's the matter. The babe is perfectly healthy in there, as is Elia's." He wiped a tear from his face. "Another addition to the family I thought on the precipice of losing a few years back." With the Queens still laying down, immodest, it was Rhaela that hugged her uncle, giving him the sense of comfort she needed.

"What do you suppose Aemon was thinking about as he was examining me?" Lyanna asked Elia as they walked through the gardens, absentmindedly stroking their bellies flush with their babes. "He looked… curious."

Elia shrugged. "Can't be sure. Probably overwhelmed. He was alone for the longest time rotting at the wall, and now his home is filled with more Targaryens than he ever thought possible." She rubbed her stomach, imagining what her child would be like. Quiet and dutiful like Egg, Cella, or Baelon? A rambunctious terror like Alyssa or Dany? Something in the middle like Rhaenys? Whatever it was, Elia was excited to find out. "I still can't believe the war's over and Rhaegar is missing this."

"He would've loved to be a part of the examination," Lyanna said, feeling a surge of emotion. Damn this babe… She seemed to cry every day over something or another. "Benjen's returned, so there's some good news."

"At least we won't have to worry about a despondent Ash," Elia mused.

"I know what you mean," said her wife. "The way she carries herself about like a silent sister…" Lyanna shuddered. "Only Allyria or one of the hatchlings can even put a glint in her eyes… I'll kill Benjen for doing this to her, stupid idiot having to be the hero!"

Elia giggled, leaning over to kiss her love on the cheek. "You always were sexy when angry."

A snort, but Lyanna grinned at the compliment. "I'm serious. He's already a Kingsguard and a father… he has nothing to prove by nearly dying in Lannisport chasing glory like a fool."

"Be that as it may, you must realize that Ash is likely going to beat him up enough for all of us on this."

Approaching the chambers that were officially Ashara's but unofficially shared between the two lovers, almost immediately did the two Queens hear a shrill voice echoing out. "YOU STUPID STUPID IDIOT!"

The Queens looked at each other while Ser Barristan made as if he wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. "What I'd tell you?" Elia smirked.

Lyanna shook her head. "Dornish women." Elia smacked her shoulder… only to immediately rub it lovingly after. "You're gonna pay for that."

"Counting on it." Taking a breath, Elia pushed the door open to reveal Ashara in a rather… hypocritical position. "You idiot! You fool! You addled swine!" After the spate of insults she peppered her prone lover with fierce kisses over his face. "Never do that again! Do you hear me! I'll castrate you myself if you even try!" Another torrent of kisses, mixing with the tears pouring down her eyes.

Benjen, trying not to groan from the aches of his wounds, accepted the affection gladly even with the abuse and vitriol heaped on him. "Don't worry, Ash. I'm here… mostly in one piece."

"Fuck you! Fuck you for saying that you… you… Northern Fool!" But Ashara followed it up by burying her head in his neck, clutching him as if he were to slip away into death if she let go.

Truthfully, Lyanna didn't blame Ashara for reacting as such. Her brother was a frightful sight. Bandages covered his bare upper body, and he wore loose Dornish trousers… likely for dressed wounds down there as well. He looked to have lost significant weight, making him gaunt and haggard. She fought tears over Benjen, merely managing to croak "Please tell me the other shit got the worst of it?"

Holding Ash tight, Ben chuckled as best he could. "You bet. He's rotting in the Seven Hells while I'm here with the most beautiful Dornish lass in the world - no offense, goodsister…"

Elia couldn't help but chuckle. "None taken, goodbrother." All was well, Ash calmed down and kissing Benjen gently - so delighted he returned alive. "So did she speak about the babe, yet?" It was casual. Surely Ash told him…

Benjen smiled. "Haven't seen little Allyria yet, but yes, my sweet star told me about how much she's grown." He kissed her cheek, making Ash swoon.

"Wonderful, but I mean the new babe…"

"Elia…" Lyanna tried to warn her wife, but it was too late.

His eyes knotted in confusion only to widen in recognition. "What?"

Ashara glared. "No, I haven't told him yet."

"Oh… ooooh…" Elia had the courtesy to look away in embarrassment. "My apologies."

"You're with child again?"

"I wanted to surprise you…" She was cut off when Ben kissed her, ignoring any pain he had. He was too damn happy.

"I think we should better go," laughed Lyanna, dragging Elia out of there. All they could think of was that they wished Rhaegar was here to kiss them like that.


Sea winds ripping across the grand square of the palace at Lannisport, the mass assembly of Royal Guards, Stark banners, and Lannister troops stood at full attention as King Rhaegar mounted the rostrum. The great building behind him still bore the scars of the battle that had raged a moon before, but it simply made the moment all the greater in his eyes. Ned waited there, as did Tywin with his Hand of the King pin. Also there were a dozen of other Lords, from Davos Seaworth to Garlan to Elbert to Robert. All gathered to bear witness to this.

The band played the Rains of Castamere to serenade Rhaegar's address, clearly a message of the Lord Hand to the Ironborn Lords lined up glumly before them, Victarion Greyjoy at the van. From how they scowled and rubbed their wrists - where manacles had been - the message was received.

Rhaegar couldn't even bring himself to feel pity for them. In his mind, the only thing missing from this was Euron strung up, ready for him to rend the monster apart and feed the remnants to Aegarax. Another time then, I promise you. Clearing his throat, he unfurled the parchment. "Hereforth, signed by Lord Balon Greyjoy and the landed Lords of the Iron Islands, the Treaty of Lannisport shall be binding on the entire Realm. House Greyjoy accepts full responsibility for this conflict and hereby, alongside their bannermen, are to pay one thousand talents of gold bullion or coin to each of the Westerlands and the Reach, and five hundred talents of silver bullion or coin to the North as war indemnity."

The scowls deepened. Combined with the Rains of Castamere, Rhaegar and Tywin were essentially bankrupting them with indemnities they could not pay. Hard times were ahead for the Iron Islands.

Balon wasn't present, having taken sick with dysentery back in Pyke. Rhaegar laughed when he heard it, and resolved to have Elia and Varys spread the tale of the man's cowardice far and wide. "The Iron Islands shall be overseen by a council of the three realms most affected by their perfidy, to be appointed by Lord Hand Tywin Lannister and myself." With Tywin in charge essentially, everything from the nails in the walls would be used to pay the indemnity.

Other terms were listed out, from hostages to fishing rights to ship restrictions to the abolition of the thralls, but essentially all power within the Iron Islands was eliminated. They were a beaten, broken people - if they tried again and failed, they would be exterminated to the last man, woman, and child.

"And thus it is declared by me," Rhaegar boomed, the growing green shape of Aegarax landing upon the palace, hanging on it. "Rhaegar Targaryen, First of my Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, King of All Westeros and Shield of my People." With a rhetorical flourish, he had assumed the titles of Aegon the Conqueror, lost on by few.

"Long may he reign!" Tywin proclaimed, seeking ratification.

"Long may he reign!" By acclamation, the Lords granted it.

While the treaty had been read and acclaimed, the day's labors hadn't yet reached completion. Formal ceremonies, long postponed, were finally allowed to proceed. A litany of brave warriors were knighted for their great deeds, including Rodrik Forrester and Royland Degore for their brave capture of Victarion Greyjoy. Thoros of Myr, already a knight from somewhere or another, was awarded a lump sum of five hundred gold dragons for being the first to storm the walls of Pyke. Most would likely disappear into the hands of tavern owners or whores, but Rhaegar was convinced Melisandre would ensure enough was sent to the Red Temple in Volantis.

A great feast was held in the Lannisport Palace overseen by the recovered - mostly - Lord Stafford Lannister. Rhaegar found it boring to the extreme, especially without Elia's witty retorts or Lyanna's vibrancy to make it entertaining. Various matrons and maidens insisted on dancing with him and he obliged, though ignored their attempts to flirt. I am in no need of mistresses. Why would he when he had the two most beautiful women in the world awaiting him in his bed?

Luckily Lya and Elia weren't here to see the shameless displays. The former would probably slug them across the face while the latter would make Oberyn sneak a snake into their beds.

One couple was having a fabulous time. Finally free of worry of her husband, Cersei Stark was all smiles as she danced around with Ned. His goodbrother seemed the happiest Rhaegar had ever seen, his icy, brooding exterior melted and finally enjoying himself, twirling around his beautiful bride in her red and gold dress that hugged her figure. While Rhaegar never desired Cersei, he couldn't deny that Ned was truly a lucky man to have such a beauty… to have the undying love of such a beauty as well.

Catelyn Tully had been a beauty, and look how that turned out. Love was important.

"Are you happy, my Lady?" Rhaegar asked Cersei as they danced, one song while Ned was snapped up by the widowed Genna Lannister.

Her green eyes sparkled. "Aye, very much so, your Grace."

"Moreso than if your father had his way early on, I assume?"

Cersei knew what he spoke of. "With risk of offending you, goodbrother, aye." He gingerly spun her. "The insanity and poison of court would've brought out the worst in me. Proud, kind Ned keeps me grounded and I adore him for it."

"He's one of the last truly honorable men left in the Seven Kingdoms. It may go unsaid how I would react if you brought him shame or pain."

"Never, your Grace. I am his and he is mine."

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "Be warned, the last Lady Stark didn't fair well with such sandal customs in the North."

She smirked. "A coincidental statement, I am sure." Aye, she will serve Ned greatly. Provided each trait his goodbrother lacked.

Luckily for Rhaegar, the feast drew to a close and he managed to extract himself. Ser Arthur providing close watch, the two young children of Balon Greyjoy were brought in, surrounded by Targaryen guards. He felt a tiny bit of sympathy for them. Theon Greyjoy was Rhaenys' age and utterly terrified. Shaking as if he were facing Balerion the Black Dread. Asha was a little older and attempted to stand strong, but there was equal terror in her eyes.

Rhaegar didn't relish this. Children didn't deserve to suffer for their father's crimes, but this was needed. "Do you two understand who I am?"

"Yes, your Grace," Asha said.

"Yes… your Grace." Theon's lips quivered.

The King walked to them, towering over the frightened youths. "The Greyjoys and Ironborn in total, have never been able to learn their lesson- no matter how many times they rebel and pillage our lands, they will never be able to win when all of Westeros is against them. Balon Greyjoy learned of it once, and as a result, you both ended up paying for your father's mistake."

"What… what will happen to us?" Theon murmured.

"He'll kill us, that's what," Asha hissed, sucking in a sob. "Just as his dogs did mother!"

Rhaegar sighed. Gods save me from this… "you are not to die, young ones. But you will be separated to serve as wards. You, Theon, shall be the ward of Lord Stark in Winterfell. You, Asha, shall be my ward."

"I will never kneel." Asha blazed defiance, even if it was weak.

"We shall see. Take them away for a hot meal," he ordered his guards. Once they were gone he sighed and collapsed in a chair. "I hope this works."

Tywin snorted. "Balon gives absolutely nothing as to care for his children. They are a means to an end for him." The Hand held little regard for the Ironborn… not even grudging respect. "You'll never raise them properly."

"Anyone has the capacity for change, goodfather," Ned replied. "Or else you'd have been as your father was before you."

A scowl. "Different set of facts."

"It would've been easier had your mad dog not delivered the worst of atrocities upon the wives of Balon and Victarion."

"Aye, that was… unfortunate." In his pillaging, Ser Gregor Clegane had come upon the women of House Greyjoy and proceeded to… sate his animal lusts upon them. The dainty wife of Victarion was then disposed of by smashing her against the wall while he took his claymore and sliced Balon's wife down the middle. "Few would truly care though, your Grace."

"I want such monsters dead."

"In most normal circumstances, so would I, but Ser Gregor is not normal."

Ned looked incredulously. "Certainly you cannot think him worthy of a pardon for this?"

Tywin was indifferent. "Goodson, your honor will get you killed one day." He turned to Rhaegar. "I have dismissed him from my service and sent him back to his father at Clegane Hall, but it is wise to keep someone like that on a leash lest they break free and go mad."

Scowling, Rhaegar didn't want a fight over this. "Anything else he does… kill him."

"Understood." Matters settled, Rhaegar's sudden announcement of departure back to King's Landing upon dragonback drew alarm from Tywin. "My King, I beseech this is a mistake."

"No mistake, Lord Hand. I have been away from home far too long," the King proclaimed, silently calling Aegarax from the sky through their bond. "None shall keep me from this."

Lord Tywin was quite irritated, though Ned merely watched with a tilted eyebrow. "You are needed here, your Grace. There is still much to do before we can depart…"

"Then do it. I've given my orders and directives already, Lord Hand." The dragon flapped his wings and landed with a small cloud of dust kicked up. "You are an expert at it, I am told. I would stay but I cannot miss my son's nameday."

"There are other namedays, your Grace."

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed. "My decision is final, Lord Tywin. Keep me appraised by raven but do not bother me on this again." He left no room for argument, merely bowing and walking back towards the palace.

Ned hid a smile until his goodfather was gone. "He'll remember that humiliation."

"I just delivered him the Iron Islands and the position of Lord Hand. He'll be fine." Rhaegar wasn't going to constantly humiliate the man as his father did. "But I truly must go, Ned. My son… young Baelon prays every day just for me to be there for his feast and I cannot deny him." A look of longing and grief crossed the King's face.

Understanding, Ned put a hand on his goodbrother's shoulder. "Go, and give him my love. Winterfell already has direction of what to send him as my gift."

A chuckle. "Thank you Ned." He quickly mounted Aegarax, the dragon's smaller size making it quite easy. "And enjoy married life with your new bride. I expect Lyanna to be given another niece or nephew quite soon."

Ned crossed his arms. "Is that your command?"

"Aye, it is," Rhaegar laughed. "Though I have no doubts you'd enjoy carrying it out."

"Already have, your Grace." Ned grinned proudly.

It took a moment for Rhaegar to comprehend, but he grinned back. "Wonderful! Just wonderful!" He clicked his tongue. "Sovegon…" Aegarax roared as he beat his wings, taking to the sky.

I'm coming, my son...


As night fell upon the city of King's Landing, with supper concluded all the little dragons were clustered in Baelon and Daenerys' shared chambers. "Let's play conqueror!" Jon exclaimed. "Field of fire. Artie, you be Gardener."

"Why do I have to be Gardener?!" Artie complained, crossing his arms.

"Cause Egg has light hair for Loren Lannister, silly," Dany giggled at their friend, already grabbing the dragon figurines for Balerion and Vhagar. But when Rhaenys made to pick up Meraxes, Dany slapped her hand away. "No Rhae, that Sansa's."

The eldest dragon rolled her eyes. "Not this again. Dany, if we play field of fire then one need to be Rhaenys."

But Dany dug in her heels, shaking her head so vociferously that her hair tangled everywhere. "Sansa is Rhaenys, Rhae. That's what is!"

"Jon, just let Rhae be Rhaenys," Egg pleaded, hating them to fight.

Baelon hated it too, but found himself on Dany's side. "Sorry, Rhae, but only Sansa can be Rhaenys."

"You too, valonqar? My name is Rhaenys! You let me be the Queen who Never Was and Alysanne."

"I know, but Sansa is Rhaenys."

Artie was so confused. "Who's Sansa?"

Rhaenys huffed. "Jon and Dany's imaginary friend."

This seemed to make Dany angry… correction, she was angry. "Sansa's not imagin...ary!" The Princess was sure she knew what that word was and did not like it one bit. "She's a beautiful, great girl and me and Jon's best friend!"

"I thought I was your best friend?" Artie quipped, chuckling… it soon became apparent that his attempt to lighten the mood wasn't the best tack and he shut up.

"You met once in a dream, that doesn't make her real."

"It does so! She has red hair, grey eyes like auntie Lya, and is the bestest friend Jon and I have." Dany was not budging. "Me and Jon both dream her, and muna says dragons have magic so ha!" The Princess had a smug smile on her face, crossing her arms in triumph.

"Mag-ic! Dwa-gon! Mag-ic! Dwa-gon!" Little Alyssa was giggling from her crib, while Cella was quiet and just watching, playing idly with her blocks.

Aegon tapped his chin. "Do we know a Sansa?"

Thinking, Rhaenys shrugged. "N'cle Ned has a Sansa… but I dunno if she has red hair. Muna and N'cle Ben are both dark-haired." It wasn't a common name the way something like 'Jeyne' was, but still...

Swallowing, Jon just shifted where he stood. "Let's play something else…" It just wasn't worth it to argue. "How about Dragon's Wroth?"

"No, I always end up being the Yellow Toad and I hate it," Rhaenys complains.

"Alright." Baelon went to his cousin. "Allyria can be Yellow Toad."

"Yay!" Allyria clapped her hands, not knowing what the hells was going on but excited nonetheless. That seemed to lighten the mood.

But, as it was true every night, the fun and games couldn't last. Lady Dacey and their guards came and began to escort the others to their own chambers. Artie socked Jon on the shoulder - a gesture he returned with a slight grin - while Egg patted him on the shoulder. Rhae hugged him and kissed his forehead, and Cella, Lyssa, and Allyria gave him sloppy kisses on the cheek that he was forced to wipe with his hand but otherwise cherished.

As it was most nights, his nursemaid Wylla dressed him and Dany for bed in their shared chambers before snuffing out the candle and bidding them sleep.

Immediately, Jon heard the rustle of sheets. Dany threw off her covers and ran towards his bed, crawling in until the two hatchlings were holding each other underneath the furs. Jon sighed in comfort at his aunt's closeness - they did this often, but since the Ironborn attack vicious nightmares had driven both of them into the same bed every night for support. It had been a mix and match the first few times before Dany declared that Jon's bed, with the thick bearskin fur blanket N'cle Ned sent them from Winterfell, was much warmer and so insisted they stay there.

Baelon would never say no - he couldn't deny his sweet aunt. Frankly, not once could he remember a time where Daenerys wasn't right there beside him, nor did the four-nameday old Targaryen comprehend why he wouldn't want that.

"Jon?"

"Hmmm?"

"Think Sansa is N'cle Ned's girl?"

Jon thought for a moment. "She had muna's grey eyes, so maybe? I dunno?" He remembered that dream as if it were the day before, and how happy and complete it felt playing with their new companion - a sentiment Dany shared. "I hope we find her again."

"We will," Dany insisted, holding him tighter. "We dragons. Nothing stop us." Baelon could hear their grandmother, Dany's muna, in her voice. He loved his grandmother so it was welcome. They both sighed and snuggled into each other. "Night, Jon."

"Night, Dany." His eyes fluttered shut and soon Baelon drifted off to sleep.

His was a dreamless sleep. No flights atop dragons as his most glorious dreams - no black demons or glowing blue eyes as his worst nightmares. Unfortunately, what wonders that brought Sansa into their shared dreams wasn't present and Baelon felt himself disappointed.

Where was she? Where was his playmate? Dany felt the loss more than he did normally, but Jon was affected… His family just seemed incomplete now that he knew Sansa existed. Was she real? His aunt refused to accept that, but Jon worried.

"My sweet sister… sleep well and safe for me."

At first, Jon didn't know whether he was asleep. The sweet Valyrian words that came out almost seeming surreal… it took a moment for him to realize that yes, he had awoken. Eyes slowly opening, in the low moonlight he could see a mane of silver hair. Two twinkling violet eyes brimming with tears. And a face he'd recognize anywhere. "Ke… kepa?"

It took a moment for Rhaegar to notice that his son was awake, Jon's voice a low croak, but when he did the awed expression morphed into a loving smile. "Aye, my son. It's me."

Jon couldn't believe it. His grogginess kept him quiet, but otherwise he felt elation. "You're here… you came back.."

"I promised I would, little pup." A hand ruffled his hair gently, careful not to wake the sleeping Dany so adorably cuddled with Baelon. Rhaegar already knew Rhaella would be imagining a betrothal. "Can you do me a favor? Don't say anything. I wanna surprise your brother and sisters and munas."

Nodding and feeling his kepa press a kiss to his forehead, Jon sleepily smiled. It felt like a bad weight had been lifted off his chest, replaced with feather light tickles that his powerful dragon father would oft delight him with. Seeing the King begin to drift off back to the open door to the hallway, Jon called out. "Kepa?" Not too loud, for he could feel Dany's breaths ghost over his cheek and neck from where she rested.

Rhaegar looked back at his boy. "Yes, my son?"

A tear fell down his cheek, so full did his heart feel. "I prayed and prayed before the heart tree… and you're here…"

Brilliant smile lighting up Rhaegar's face, he walked to Baelon. Reaching down to swipe off the tear with his thumb. "Not even all the demons of the Seven Hells could keep me away from you."

Door closing behind Rhaegar, Dany involuntarily tightening her hold on him and snuggling closer, Jon fell asleep with a smile on his face. His nameday wish coming true - the old gods hearing his prayer.

All was right in the world again.


Only the flicker of lanterns banished away the darkness in Maegor's Holdfast. Rhaegar didn't mind, however, for it was to his advantage. Best to sneak through unnoticed when there was little light, and his plans for the night required a low profile. Still small and agile, Aegarax was able to silently land in the gardens upon the cliff then fly off to places unknown to rest for the night - Rhaegar had instructed him to wait until the morning to return to the dragonpit, and his mount understood.

Unfortunately he was the King and the Red Keep was the place of residence for the royal family. There was no chance for him to truly enter unseen, hence his shadow. "The children will certainly be delighted with your return on the morrow, your Grace."

While he would've vastly preferred Ser Oswell or Ser Barristan, Rhaegar saw his muna's handiwork when it was Jaime that escorted him quietly into the holdfast. "Aye, I cannot wait."

"At least young Prince Baelon was awake to see you… he's been quite despondent."

"I've heard," Rhaegar replied, feeling a little guilty over his son's sorrow. The joy in Jon's sleepy eyes was worth it though, and Rhaegar felt elation as he kissed the cheek of each of his sleeping children - Dany, Cella, and Viserys too. He truly missed his family. "And now there are just two left to greet, or three… perhaps I should visit muna as well."

The Kingsguard gave a grimace. "Actually, your Grace. Forgive me but I would not advise such." Nearing the royal chambers, Rhaegar raised a brow at his Kingsguard, curious as to the defiance. Jaime rubbed the back of his neck. "See, after giving me this assignment, her Grace made it clear that there was a surprise waiting for only me in her chambers…"

"Stop." Eyes closed, Rhaegar shook his head violently. "Given the respect I have for you I shall forego taking your head for putting such images in my mind." With what he planned, Rhaegar did not wish for… whatever his muna did with Jaime when alone to grace his thoughts.

Jaime had the sense to look sheepish. "You did ask, your Grace."

A groan. "Just… begone." Jaime bowed and departed, leaving Rhaegar alone to enter the royal suite. He took in a deep breath, calming his beating heart in anticipation of seeing his beautiful brides sleeping in their bed for the first time in moons…

Not a split-second after entering the suite did Rhaegar hear the unadulterated moans of pleasure emanating from their bedchamber. Rapturous sounds of female pleasure, the throaty purr of a Dornishwoman and the wild grunts and mewls of a northern wolf. Many were muffled, joined by the rustling of sheets and the creak of a jostling bed. Slowly unfastening his sword belt and leaving it on a table, Rhaegar smirked to himself. Those minxes have been enjoying themselves without me.

Oh, this couldn't do - defying their King in such a brazen manner. Rhaegar had the urge to simply burst in and confront them before teasing them to death…

"Yes… my Dornish love," Lyanna gasped, her cries making the King's trousers become uncomfortably tight. "Worship my flower! Oh, yes!"

He shook his head, smirking. That she-wolf of mine can't control her loudness in bed, especially when I or Elia feast on her… A slow smile spread on Rhaegar's face. Lyanna was shut out from the world when in the throes of passion and Elia being buried in her heat… oh, the ideas swirling in his head were diabolical.

It was a contest between silence and speed, but ultimately Rhaegar managed to shed his armor without but a faint clink when it was placed on the stone floor. Off went his doublet, joined by his trousers and smallclothes. Rhaegar fisted his cock to ease the pulsing pressure as Lyanna's moans and Elia's muffled grunts of hunger left the bedchamber, his other hand removing the silk tie that held up his hair. Letting it fall about his shoulders as both Queens adored with the only stitch of clothing left being the crown of Aegon the Conqueror adorning his head. With a smug grin, he slowly eased the door open enough for him to slip inside.

If he hoped his hand could still the burning in his cock, the sight before Rhaegar killed those efforts.

Lyanna's mouth was open, screaming breathlessly as her hair pillowed about in a halo, some strands clinging to a sheen of sweat on her forehead. "Yes, my love!" Her fingers gripped the dark locks of her wife, Elia's tongue sweeping through her cunt. "I need it! Oooh, you feel so good."

Elia merely moaned her assent. One hand had spread apart Lya's legs while the other was reaching up, fondling a breast. She was on all fours, ass high in the air and exposing her leaking cunt. A sight that Rhaegar hungered over.

And so lost were they in their passion, neither noticed him enter. He would've bet away his crown that they didn't even know he was in the Red Keep.

Even better.

Thrashing about, Lyanna tugged harder on Elia's hair. "Lick me, you Dornish whore."

"Mmmm," Elia moaned like a wanton courtesan, her honeyed skin flush with desire. "So delicious." Her own heat unbearable, one hand kneaded her own breasts while the other moved to her own nub, rubbing it as her tongue lashed at Lyanna's.

Slowly creeping forward, thanking the gods above that Lya's eyes were still shut tightly, Rhaegar stilled for a moment. Looking at their bellies, swelling with his children. He wasn't too late to enjoy them like this, his unborn babes growing within their wombs - he had never had such wonders with Lyanna nor with this pregnancy of Elia's, but now he would. It brought a happy glint to his eyes.

Yet the further filthy moans from his beloveds more at home in a brothel than the bedchamber of the Queens drove such sentimentality from his mind. Clouding it in hunger and lust. Dragon awoken powerfully. Without waiting a moment, Rhaegar strode forward. In a single stroke he batted aside Elia's hand and pushed his cock to the hilt into her cunt.

Screaming into Lyanna's heat, Elia tore her mouth away and looked frantically behind her. The sudden fullness stretching her almost to the point of pain wasn't resisted one bit by her cunt - apparently her body recognized the intrusion before her mind did - but it took a split-second from her look of fear and pain to morph into shock and elation. "Rhaegar!"

Gripping her ass tightly, Rhaegar gritted his teeth from the tightness of her channel… "Fuck…"

Initially Lyanna cried foul at Elia pulling away just as she was about to climax. But both Elia's gasp and Rhaegar's grunt finally threw open Lyanna's eyes, gazing at her husband in shock - not an unpleasant sight. "Oh gods… yes, husband. Fuck her hard!" Her mind was of one thought. Greeting him would wait. Making Elia shatter like a slut before offering her cunt for Rhaegar to defile couldn't wait. "Do it, damn you!"

Roaring in both anger and lust, Rhaegar set a bruising pace. Skin slapping against Elia's as he drew out almost to the tip before slamming as deep as he could. Elia's mouth opened in a pure scream of pleasure, head thrown back and casting Rhaegar a lusty look with her brown eyes.

But it wasn't to last. His powerful hand wrapped around the back of her neck and shoved Elia back into Lyanna's cunt. "Eat her," he growled.

"Mmmphh!" Elia gurgled, nose inhaling an even more pungent scent as the return of their husband flooded Lya's cunt with her wetness. The aroma coupled with Rhaegar's dragon cock slamming against the entrance to her womb were turning her brain to mush.

"She's not licking me, husband," Lyanna whined, sounding like a petulant child.

Elia's walls clenched around his cock, which after so long needed all of the King's fortitude not to explode. "Can't… have that…"

"Ahhh!" Elia cried out, her asscheeks stinging from where he spanked her. It made her even wetter, rocking back against his cock while burying her tongue inside her she-wolf. Reaching as deep as possible to swallow the screams of pleasure she couldn't help but vocalize.

Lyanna's eyes darkened. "Yes, my dragon. Spank her hard!" Each slap joined with each swipe of Elia's tongue against her walls drove her further to the precipice. The Queen knew not how much time passed. Some points felt instantaneous while the others felt as if this had been going on for hours. More than once did Lyanna think the sun was emerging from beyond the horizon only for her to realize that the light was merely the stars she saw behind her lids. But when her orgasm came, she knew it. "Ohhh, yes… my loves!"

"Grrlllphhh!" Elia's shrieking orgasm into her creaming wife was muffled by the delicious folds, her fingers gripping the plump ass and channel squeezing Rhaegar's cock as hard as she could.

With a grunt, Rhaegar emptied his seed into his pregnant wife. There could be no more depraved situation than this in defiance of the gods above… perhaps if they had been all unmarried, but Rhaegar couldn't care less. They were Targaryens, they answered to neither gods nor men.

The gods are on our side, though.

Slumping forward, cunt leaking his seed, Elia's trembling form was urged up by Lyanna. From her own orgasm, the fiery she-wolf appeared more docile, more needy as she urged Elia to rest flush against her. Their lips met in a hungry kiss and breasts mashed together, desperate for closeness. "Mmmmm…" moaned the Dornish Queen.

Lyanna simply bucked her hips, nails raking across Elia's smooth back. Their bellies weren't yet large enough to make such a position impossible.

Stroking his cock, just the sight of this after so long without his beloveds only brought Rhaegar back to full mast. He had sated his desire for Elia's cunt for the time being, and now the spread legs of his she-wolf displayed her wonders to him. It was a… quite potent visual elixir that drove the sunrise dragon to near madness.

Looking up as the bed jostled underneath her, Lyanna could see her husband. His hair shone in the firelight, eyes dark and brimming with a draconic hunger that made her shiver. Bracing herself, soon he had pulled her - Elia along for the ride - to the edge of the bed and sheathed himself inside her cunt. "Ooooooh… yesssss!" She cried out at being entered so suddenly, and whimpered against Elia's lips as the two resumed their hungry kiss.

Seeing them still going at it so desperately while he set another desperate pace into his northern wife, Rhaegar grabbed onto the bedframe for support while two fingers swiped through Elia's still glistening cunt. Two fingers mimicking his cock in pressing into them.

Elia broke the kiss, eyes rolling in the back of her head. "He's inside me, Lya…"

"Yes, he feels so wonderful," was the reply, Lya leaning down to suck on one of Elia's nipples. Needing to be grounded in the pleasure.

She was meeting his thrusts with abandon. They both were, Lyanna moaning into Elia's breast while Elia bounced her hips around his fingers. Their cunts sucking him in. Rhaegar was more than ready to come again, his dragonblood blazing. Adding a third finger while changing angle inside Lyanna, a decision that made them all see stars.

"Oh yeah… keep going, lover… don't stop…"

"Lya… Lia… kessa… my loves…"

"More, more, more… oh fuck…"

Each would swear that they all erupted at the same time, the wails of pleasure even more powerful than the last.

All seed spilled, all juices flooded, all tremors collapsing to simple trembling, Rhaegar withdrew his cock and digits and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. Completely spent, Elia rolled off Lyanna to the other side. The King and his Queens laid there for what seemed like hours, merely breathing hard and trying to recover from what they had endured.

"What a homecoming," Rhaegar finally managed to say.

"Mmmm, it was nearly worth you leaving just for that," Elia cooed.

Lyanna turned once she had the energy left, crawling atop Rhaegar and straddling him. "Oh husband." She rested her head on his chest, holding him close. "We were lost without you."

"I see you've been getting along quite well," he chuckled, feeling Elia meld herself on his side with head in the crook of his neck.

"That may be so, but our hearts are unfilled unless we all are together." She wanted to speak more, but yawned from fatigue. "Jon… he'll be so happy to know you're back."

"I… I already saw him. Never could I miss his nameday."

"The best husband and father I could ever ask for." Lyanna felt the luckiest woman in the world. "I love you."

"I love you," Elia repeated.

"Words cannot express how much I love both of you." And so they drifted off to sleep, completely content.

A/N: He made Jon's wish come true... and gave some sweet lovin to his brides ;)

Aren't Jon and Dany priceless?

So Tywin is basically in charge of the Iron Islands, while Asha is going to King's Landing and Theon's going to Winterfell.

Next up, the Starks return to Winterfell! More comments I get the sooner I update :D