"The warm bath shall help, Your Grace." one of the maids whispered, as another two lowered Queen Daenaera gently into the copper tub.
The 'little queen' said nothing, her sullen blue eyes focused on the water that had risen, due to her immersion.
Her maids fussing over her for the past few days has proven to be torture for her mental state. All Daenaera wanted was to be left alone to grieve the loss of her son…and because of Grand Maester Alford, she could not be allowed to have that.
They say I would harm my babe. How absurd, Daenaera thought to herself as one of the women charged to watch her, encouraged her to lean her head back in the tub, so as her hair would be washed.
The Queen's hand pressed gently to her belly, as the maids did their work. She had felt pains that morrow, and it had been Grand Maester Alford once more who insisted on a bath and then plenty of rest. He claimed that she had overexerted herself, and the once polite and pleasant 'little queen' suddenly found herself laughing bitterly…shocking everyone present in that room.
How had she been overexerting herself? She had barely left her rooms since the day her son was killed. The one time she chose to leave was for his funeral…and even so, she had stayed behind…not wanting to interact with anyone in her family.
They had tried, of course. Visenya had oft visited her in her chambers. As did Baela and Rhaena. But Daenaera would either pretend she was already asleep, or claim to be too ill and as such, she would not be good company.
As for Aegon…
A tear escaped Daenaera's eye and travelled lower from her cheek all the way down to her breasts, until it merged with the water within the tub.
Her poor husband…forever dependent on her light…and yet Daenaera knew that she would never shine as bright ever again. They had not spoken a word to one another since Baelor's death.
He had not even attempted to visit her during this whole time. Did he even know that she was with child? Did he even care?
Too many unanswered questions plagued her thoughts…including those about Johanna Lannister's treasonous act. What had compelled her to take away the life of her innocent babe? What possible motive? How had Daenaera or her family wronged that woman?
Johanna Lannister's family had benefitted from the Crown's mercy after the war. Debts had been paid for their House's treason. Daenaera herself had insisted that they make peace with those who had once been the enemies of Rhaenyra Targaryen.
What had compelled these people to attack their family once more? Did they want the war to be renewed? Did they crave bloodshed? Even after everything and everyone they lost during this war?
The Targaryens were oft accused of being fuelled by anger and hatred, because they are the blood of the dragon. And yet, they have been the ones doing everything in their power to maintain the peace after the war…a war they themselves had not started. A war desired by the Hightowers, so as to take power for themselves.
Why must their family continue to suffer the consequences for another family's greed? Whether they liked it or not, the Hightowers and the Faith would never have the power to control the Realm. That was something that they would have to deal with.
Daenaera closed her eyes, as she felt the maid's fingers brush through her hair, pouring water through it gently.
The 'little queen' was frightened. She feared that Baelor's death would be only the first of the many strikes that would follow. They needed protection. Viserys was a good Hand. He was doing everything he could…but Daenaera feared it would not be enough. She already lost one child…she would not survive the loss of another.
There were knocks on the doors, making Daenaera open her eyes.
Ser Edmund called out, "The King, Your Grace!"
All the maids turned to look at Daenaera, their eyes widening when the Queen stated that he may enter.
She was naked in a bath full of hot water, her hair wet. None of the maids had ever witnessed the 'little queen' accept anyone in her chambers unless she wore the proper garments, as was required for someone of her station, not even her own husband. But everything about Daenaera Velaryon was changing, and the maids were to soon discover that.
Bowing their heads, the women left the Queen to her bath…and formally greeted King Aegon as he passed them. To their surprise, the King did not look to be as sullen as he had been for the past few days. He remained serious, as he had always been…but more determined. He was there to see his wife…even if she did not want to see him.
Pulling back the curtains, the beautiful 'little queen' was revealed in all her nakedness, stopping Aegon in his tracks.
His mouth opened and closed. His heart quickened at the sight of something he did not even know he had longed for. The last time he had felt her soft skin…it had been too long.
His eyes moved to her belly…the one carrying his new babe. When Viserys had told him through the doors of his chambers of this splendid news, he did not believe it. He did not believe that the Gods would be this cruel…to take away one child, and grant him another. Or mayhaps Baelor's death had not been the Gods' will, and as such, they wished to provide compensation for this injustice.
Daenaera's eyes bore into his. The 'little queen' was not making any attempts to hide her body from him. There was no point. It was something he had seen before…and something Daenaera wanted him to see again.
She had longed for him…for his touch. The one thing which she believed would make the pain disappear. She wanted him.
Pulling her hand out of the water, she reached for him. His hand accepted hers, his dark purple eyes not once leaving her crystal blue ones.
Aegon let himself fall on his knees next to the tub, pulling at her hand so as he could press it against his lips.
Daenaera let out the tears she had been holding in. Sensing as though this was not enough, she pulled her other hand out of the water, leaned in and cupped his cheek. Despite seeing the uneasiness reflected in his gaze, she mustered up the courage to pull him in for a kiss.
There was urgency in her movements…desperation to pull him as close as possible, despite the copper tub between them.
Daenaera pulled at his neck, bringing him closer, as Aegon tightened his grip on her hand.
She pulled back, pressing her thumb firmly to his chin, as though attempting to open his mouth. He was not responding to her touch.
"Aegon…please." Daenaera pleaded.
They had danced this way many times before. She was the more eager one. Him…frightened of such intimacy. She had to break a lot of walls before finally reaching him. And she needed him now more than ever.
She pressed her lips once more to his, running her hands through his silver-white, silky hair, biting at his bottom lip in desperation to get him to open up to her.
The bite shook something inside him, and he eventually moulded his lips to hers, following her lead. He could feel as though he could breathe once more. Her lips felt like home.
The kiss only lasted for a few moments, before Aegon forced himself to pull away, caressing her cheek with one hand, and rubbing her shoulder in comfort with the other.
Daenaera let out a small whine of disappointment the moment he pulled away. His desire for her was clear…though he refused to act on it. She stubbornly reached for him.
Pulling herself out of the water in a rush, Daenaera's breasts came into a much clearer view, her pink nipples already hardened by the desire and the rush she felt at being next to her husband.
Aegon's eyes widened, as they travelled to her most intimate parts…until they reached her belly. He believed he could already see a small bulge as indication of a new life growing inside his lovely queen.
Despite keeping her at bay, Aegon continued to let himself feel her soft, pearl-white skin, his trembling fingers travelling from her jaw, to her collarbone and all the way down to her breasts.
Her chest heaving, Daenaera's eyes fluttered closed as she whispered longingly, "Aegon…"
"We cannot, my dear." Aegon finally found his voice.
Her eyebrows furrowing, Daenaera shook her head frantically, as she moved quickly to grab a hold of his cheeks tightly. "Yes, we can. We are husband and wife. Please…we had finally moved past your worries, your fears. We were happy to give pleasure to one another. Do not push me away again, Aegon."
"You are with child."
"That does not matter. You can bed me. It will not harm the babe. Grand Maester Alford says so."
Aegon avoided her gaze, keeping his focus on the water in the copper tub, as he stated, "Even so…we are grieving, Daenaera. We miss our boy. That should not be a reason to engage in carnal pleasure."
"My desire for you has naught to do with Baelor. You have kept away from me for long now. This is the first time we have spoken since his death. I have been alone. Where have you been?"
Daenaera demanded answers, but Aegon was not too eager to speak of what had happened the previous night. He himself could not explain it. As he sang those words in High Valyrian, he felt himself consumed by the power of the Gods of Old Valyria. They were close. They had been present in the Dragonpit.
For one moment, he believed that the Fourteen Flames were there to shield their family from any harm. Visenya was eager to believe this as well. Viserys, as usual, was sceptical. Either way, he refused to give the 'little queen' too much hope.
Finally standing on her feet in the tub, letting the water drip from her hair and body, Daenaera's sea blue eyes locked with his own dark purple gems.
"I need you.", she insisted.
Her melodious and sweet voice was all it took for Aegon to break. Grabbing a hold of her hand, he helped her out of the tub, pulling her in his embrace. He pressed his dry lips to her throat, mumbling how much he loved her.
Tears fell from her bright blue orbits, as she leaned her forehead against his. She could feel his palm reaching to touch her belly, where their unborn child was nestled.
The time for mourning needed to pass. They needed to be there for this babe…allow enough room for love to grow. And what's more, attention would once again need to be given to their firstborn son and heir, Daeron. Baelor would forever remain in their hearts, but he was gone. Daeron still breathed, and needed his parents' guidance.
With newfound strength, Aegon took his wife to bed, succumbing to the pleasure he had for long denied himself.
…
"I am to be the Lady of Casterly Rock, Aunt Elinda." Elinor Massey whispered, as she held the older woman in her arms.
Elinda smiled softly, holding her niece tightly, as her eyes met Visenya's.
"We have the Princess to thank for your good fortune, Elinor.", her aunt told her.
Pulling back, Elinor agreed, "Yes."
She then turned towards the Princess in question, her hands rubbing together nervously.
"Visenya…I cannot express in words…"
Shaking her head, Visenya embraced her and stated, "There is naught to express. You deserve a good husband, Elinor. Loreon Lannister will not only bring you prestige but I see him as a kind and noble man, who could grow to love you dearly."
"Visenya certainly knows how to make good matches." Prudence said with an attempted smile, though the bitterness in her tone was noticeable to everyone in that room.
"Mayhaps, if you have patience, you are to have a husband of your own as well." Little Jeyne told her, as Sarra rolled her eyes, the discussion boring her.
The maids had been instructed to arrange for all of Elinor's belongings to be packed for her journey to the Westerlands.
It would seem that with matters having between arranged between him and the Crown, Loreon Lannister did not wish to remain any longer in a Court which did not favour him. He wished to take his soon-to-be bride and return to his home, where he perceived he would be safe.
Elinor had a few moments alone with him after the announcement of their betrothal had been made in the Great Hall. Her kindness and compassionate nature got him to reveal his fears to her almost instantly.
House Lannister was not loved. Many lords had long been envious of their riches, and have longed to witness the family's downfall. Being on the losing side during the war had nearly torn the proud lions to shreds. All that Loreon wished for now was peace. Peace not only between himself and the Crown, but also between himself and the rest of the Realm.
He even wished to make amends with Toron Greyjoy. Neither one of them should have to bear the burden of paying for their fathers' mistakes.
From their private discussion, Elinor had come to realize that she was not the only one in desperate need of such a match. He was as well. For even if he was one of the richest lords in the Realm, due to his mother's crime, Loreon would forever be tied to the murder of Prince Baelor Targaryen. And as such, few ladies would in turn wish to be tied to him, regardless of how much gold he possessed. The Realm had long since learned not to anger the Crown, and by extension, House Targaryen.
"Is the Small Council to meet on this day?" Little Jeyne suddenly asked, while the ladies were busying themselves.
"No, I do not think so. Why?" Visenya questioned, when Prudence let out a quite unrefined sound.
"She wishes to see Isembard Arryn again. The Gilded Falcon's impressive skills during that tourney seem to have set our Little Jeyne's heart ablaze.", Lady Celtigar told Visenya.
"'Tis not any of your concern!" Little Jeyne defended herself, growing tired of Prudence's insinuations.
Though from the looks on the faces of Elinda, Elinor, Sarra and Visenya, it would seem that Little Jeyne would not be able to escape questioning.
Princess Visenya chose to be caring at that moment, pulling Little Jeyne to the side so as they could say a few private words to one another.
"Do you feel that strongly for Lord Isembard?"
"I did not plan this, Visenya. I acknowledge the many obstacles. He is twice my own age, he is a distant cousin and he once rebelled against my father's rule in the Vale."
Visenya nodded her head in silence, urging her to continue.
"But I also recognize the advantages of such a match. He is a seasoned warrior, he is wise beyond his years, he is incredibly wealthy…and his name is Arryn, as is mine. His interests would align with mine own. He would be my greatest supporter, and he would ensure my position as Lady of the Eyrie would not be challenged by anyone." Little Jeyne explained, her gaze lowering, as she felt the embroidery of her dark blue dress with the tips of her fingers.
Visenya could feel herself smiling, as she took the girl's hands in hers for comfort. This all seemed too familiar to her.
A woman in a position of power, taking to husband a ruthless warrior from her own family, in order to strengthen her claim. A love match…but politically strategic as well.
The Dragon Queen and the Rogue Prince.
"I cannot help but feel that my own mother's chosen match may have influenced your decision, Little Jeyne." Visenya stated quietly, not wishing for the others to hear them.
Little Jeyne did not seem phased, nor did she bother denying it.
"I have drawn inspiration from your mother since the day my father told me that I would succeed him. It is impossible not to. I am but a girl of five and ten. I am not yet a woman grown."
"Yes…but I must warn you…I believe you are aware that the law of exceptionalism applies to those of House Targaryen alone."
"He is a distant cousin. The High Septon can provide a dispensation and we would be wed without any concerns."
"And what of your father?"
Visenya watched Little Jeyne's fall for that one moment. Lord Joffrey Arryn may have forgiven his cousin for the rebellion, but it was almost certain that he would never agree to give his only daughter in marriage to Isembard.
"I suppose the stability of my inheritance would depend on my powers of persuasion." the future Lady of the Vale mumbled.
…
Baela was watching Laena play with Monkey, when the doors to their chambers opened and slammed shut in an instant.
"I need to talk to you.", his voice was heard.
With a smile twitching at her lips, Baela commented innocently, "Back so soon? I was hoping those sparring sessions with Viserys at dusk would keep me from having to see that lovely face of yours too oft."
Laena was looking between her mother and father curiously. Her expression instantly grew solemn once she realized that another conflict was brewing between them.
"Do not jest." Alyn hissed, before turning to his daughter.
"Laena, take Monkey and head to the Princess' chambers. I hear there is a lot of excitement what with Lady Elinor preparing for her voyage to Casterly Rock."
Laena did not need to be told twice. She was not leaving because her father asked that of her, but because the constant tension was not something she could bear any longer.
With Monkey on her shoulder, the girl headed to Visenya's chambers, hoping to find some long-desired peace there.
As soon as the door closed, Baela stood and crossed her hands over her chest, defiantly.
"You did not have to dismiss our daughter."
Shaking his finger, Alyn advanced towards her, saying, "Ah, but I did. To protect her much too delicate ears from the filth spreading about her mother."
"Filth had been spreading since the day my brother took the throne. When there is no war, folk have naught to do but gossip. I am surprised I did not catch a whiff of any of your own filth…that specific one you burdened this family with."
"Do not jest." Alyn repeated, his tone serious but quieter, as he was now standing face to face with her.
"Who says I am?"
Ignoring her question, Alyn reached for the silk of her skirts, rubbing it between his fingers.
"They speak of how you've raised this pretty dress of yours for another man. How you've exposed your hidden treasures…"
Baela instantly snapped his hand away.
"And of course, you would be quick to believe it."
"I do." Alyn replied sternly, looking deep into her eyes as though desperate to catch a different piece of truth he may have missed.
"Well, mayhaps you are much too insecure. I cannot understand why, husband. Our marriage is one envied by plenty, is it not?" Baela asked, batting her lashes, as sarcasm dripped from her voice like poison.
Alyn once more evaded her undesired question and proceeded to cup her cheek, his rough fingers pressing against her throat. Gentle but menacing at the same time.
"They speak of a steward."
Baela let out a tsk, shaking her head, as she amusingly told him, "They are close. But no."
"'Tis a knight, then. A Kingsguard. Which one?"
With a sly smile, Baela shook her head once more. "Come now, Alyn. Not one of those faithful dogs would dare disappoint their King…or cross Viserys. You know that. Try again."
It was a dangerous game they were playing.
"One who would not dare speak against you. Faithful…but not too much." Alyn began mumbling, as he analysed every part of her face.
"Younger…", he continued, and Baela could feel his fingers constricting around her neck.
As sick as it was, the banter had started to arouse her…and she could feel the wetness pool in her undergarments.
"Good with his hands too.", she delivered the final blow, which made Alyn snap, pushing her back against the wall.
"Tell me.", he whispered harshly.
"No. You'll have him killed."
Not bothering to deny it, Alyn confirmed so, resting his forehead against hers, his fingers still closed around her throat.
"Yes, I will. You're mine.", he declared.
"Is that right? How curious that your possessiveness resurfaces only when you realize that you are losing me."
"I am not losing you." Alyn argued.
Baela feigned surprise, and exclaimed with a gasp, "What confidence!"
"'Tis unfair, Baela. I have sacrificed everything for this family. For your brothers, for your sister. After Queen Rhaenyra was murdered, I still stood by you and her supporters. Not once did I think about defecting to the usurper and his lot. I risked my life in the name of loyalty. I am owed…"
"You are owed nothing!" Baela snapped, and the hand around her neck loosened, when she added, "Everything you have, you have because Rhaenyra legitimized you. She and my grandfather honoured you. You have been given Driftmark because of them…and you hold the people's love and loyalty because of me."
He recognized the truth in her words, though he could not bring himself to admit it. Not now. Not when he had just received confirmation of her unfaithfulness.
Pressing himself closer to her, he could feel the wetness through the fabric of her dress, and his sense of possessiveness escalated.
"Do you love me?" he asked her sincerely, to which she could only respond with a bitter laugh.
"I loathe you!"
"Close enough."
Taking advantage of her opened mouth, Alyn captured her lips in a searing kiss.
Feeling her trying to escape his grasp, he pinned her to the wall with one hand, whereas the other reached underneath her skirts, touching her core softly, eliciting soft whines he never expected to hear from her.
Whatever she had done…whatever the punishment…Alyn wanted nothing more than to erase that nameless man from her mind…wash away her indiscretions, and mark her as his…truly. He would make this about her pleasure. His thirst for her would need to be kept to a minimum, if he wanted to accomplish what he set out to do.
Coupling would change nothing…but it would be a start. And it had been years since they had known such intimacy with one another.
Baela sensed the conflict roaring inside her. Her mind fighting against his ministrations, whereas her body was quite responsive.
Grabbing a hold of his silver threads of hair, Baela felt herself light, as he wrapped her legs around his torso, moving her towards their bed, as his mouth continued to attack on the pulse of her neck.
This is madness, Baela thought, just as her back hit the sheets.
…
112 AC
This was to be one of the many nights she would get a taste of freedom from Alicent's hellish schemes and her shameless lickspittles.
Ever since her father had been dismissed as Hand almost three years prior, the Queen had grown more wretched, using every opportunity she had to speak against Rhaenyra's choice of dresses, her constant desire to spend her time on Syrax's back, flying across Blackwater Bay alongside her uncle and Caraxes, as well as her desire to sit alongside her father every time he held Court.
The crone oft liked to whisper with her ladies about the Crown Princess' "wanton" ways. In comparison, she praised her sullen and lusty son of five name days, never failing to mention that he resembled his namesake.
Alicent's words of admiration for her own flesh and blood would make Daemon scoff during the late-night feasts in the Great Hall. To Rhaenyra's delight, her uncle would throw his head back and laugh, before making a comment of his own, on his nephew's growing appetites.
"Hardly a Conqueror, that one. He fattens more and more by the day just like his father."
Viserys had grunted, looking away with redness on cheeks due to his own brother's insult. He was now used to these types of words coming from him. Since his new wife had blessed Viserys with two sons and another daughter, Daemon had been pushed further down in the line of succession, thus making him feel less and less important in the family.
Rhaenyra felt for her uncle, truly. Not long ago, he had been the de facto Prince of Dragonstone and her father's heir. Now, he was not only disregarded by the Crown despite his impeccable lineage and many talents, but he lacked children of his own, whilst being chained in marriage to a woman who would not allow him on her grounds, much less in her bed.
How was Daemon expected to produce heirs for their dynasty whilst shackled to a heinous and suspected barren woman as Lady Rhea Royce? He deserved a far better wife. Of that, Rhaenyra was certain…and as such, her anger towards her father only grew for how he pushed Daemon away. Though, she suspected that Alicent and her snakes had something to do with that.
Indulging in her sweet meats, Rhaenyra had locked eyes with the Rogue Prince, and the two shared secretive smiles…observed by both the Queen and Rhaenyra's sworn shield.
Rhaenyra felt that Ser Criston had become distant for a few moons now. They used to speak as friends would. Now, he was posted outside her doors as he was supposed to, but his green eyes would blaze with fury whenever he saw Daemon approach her chambers. And when she spoke her goodbyes to him, he would just stand there…ignoring her.
Once alone in the Dragonpit, with none but Syrax and Caraxes to hear them, Daemon had told her, "I would suggest a change in protection arrangements, sweet niece. I can recommend a few good men from the City Watch."
Grinning wildly, Rhaenyra saddled Syrax, replying, "There is no need for that, uncle. Ser Criston has been my sworn shield for many years now. He has protected me well."
"He desires you."
"All men desire me. I am the Realm's Delight. Are you not the one who has proclaimed me the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms?"
Turning around, Rhaenyra noticed his eyes darkening, his lips curling, as he advanced towards her. Rhaenyra bit her lip and took a few steps back until she collided with Syrax.
Daemon towered over her, making it impossible for her to escape.
"Indeed, I have.", he whispered against her lips.
Rhaenyra closed her eyes, feeling Daemon's lips crush hers in another one of their secretive, passionate kisses. After moons of practice, she had mastered the art of kissing, knowing full well how to elicit his moans, how to move her tongue against his and how to use her fingers against the bulge of his breeches.
They had managed to keep away from each other for long enough to mount their dragons and race to Dragonstone and back, as they informed Viserys they would. Yet, none of the Court knew of their more pleasurable activities which occurred during the limited time spent on the rocks of Blackwater Bay.
Now, on this night, making certain that Ser Criston Cole would not disturb her, Rhaenyra locked herself in her chambers, preparing for the moment in which Daemon would once again smuggle her out of her rooms, so as they could go on another adventure in Flea Bottom.
As depraved as that sounded, Rhaenyra felt more peace of mind, being with Daemon in the darkest places of King's Landing, than she ever did in the rich comforts of the Red Keep, surrounded by the Hightower snakes who sought to undermine her and attempt to raise the status of Alicent's sons.
The doors to her chambers suddenly opened, and Daemon rushed inside wearing a dark cloak, observing her already dressed in her page boy garments.
Holding out his hand, he whispered, "Come, my princess."
The urgency in his voice told Rhaenyra that they only had a couple of moments to disappear from the Keep. She did not even have time to ask him how he had managed to rid her doors of Ser Criston.
They had reached the most lavish of brothels, where Daemon had arranged for a private room, making certain that none saw her face, and her silver-gold hair was perfectly well hidden inside her cap.
Feeling bold from the few sips of Arbor Gold she had taken at dinnertime, Rhaenyra pulled Daemon on the bed, and connected their lips, feeling relieved that she could finally let herself feel what she wanted to feel without being judged…without the fear of punishment for expressing her love.
As their kiss grew more intense, Rhaenyra let her fingers travel down to his breeches.
Daemon moaned, but broke their kiss, grabbing her hand firmly in his.
His reaction was slowly managing to convince Rhaenyra that another rejection was coming her way. They had been doing this for moons now…ever since the day in her chambers, when he had gifted her that beautiful tiara.
That first kiss had awakened something in them both…and since that moment, it felt as though the blood of the dragon was calling out to them.
Looking down at the hand grabbing hers, Rhaenyra whispered matter-of-factly, "You will not make love to me."
"No." Daemon responded swiftly.
"Why?"
"Rhaenyra…you are no fool. You know why."
She did. Her father. Daemon had gone out of his way to mend fences with his brother. He had given up the crown he had won for himself in the Stepstones. He had taken back his position as Lord Commander of the City Watch, an office in which he had always thrived. He had succeeded in getting back on the Small Council, and back in the King's inner circle, taking advantage of Otto Hightower's absence from Court.
Even so, if the truth about their relationship reached the King's ear, Rhaenyra knew neither one of them would be forgiven. Viserys would never agree to a match between them. He would be enraged. She would face being disinherited, and Daemon…he would be exiled for good, or worse. Rhaenyra was not just a girl. She was the Crown Princess. Her maidenhead was the Crown's most treasured possession. Any man found to have taken it without permission, would face execution.
There was danger in what they were doing. But even so…a heart's desire could not be so easily ignored.
Biting her bottom lip flirtatiously, she fell back onto the bed, pulling him on top.
Chuckling softly, Daemon's grin matched hers, as they succumbed once more to their passion.
His hand travelled up her thigh slowly, revelling in her nakedness.
Using her heel, Rhaenyra made an attempt to pull down his breeches, silently requesting the same courtesy from him.
His lilac-coloured eyes darkened, and the Rogue Prince complied, ridding himself of his garments maddeningly slow.
Rhaenyra's eyes focused on the fingers on his breeches, her eyes widening, as his large member came into her view for the first time.
Feeling self-conscious about her own body, Rhaenyra moved to cover herself with her hands. She may have been praised for her beauty…but she remained an unexperienced maiden, with an untouched body. She had more than enough time to observe the whores in that brothel. She could not be as enticing.
Noticing her sudden shyness, Daemon pulled her hands away with his own, and pined them above her head. Rhaenyra's eyes fluttered closed as she felt him lean over, shadowing her body with his, trailing kisses down her jaw, all the while whispering, "Gevie." Beautiful.
The ministrations continued for several moments, in the obscurity of the much too small chamber. The bed could not even compare to her canopy, yet Rhaenyra did not care. She basked in his warmth and his touches…as a clear thought made its way into her head.
"Jaelan ao syt ñuha valzȳrys." I want you for my husband.
Daemon froze, his breathing becoming ragged, as he kept his forehead pressed against her neck.
Successfully wiggling out of his grip, Rhaenyra took his hand and pressed it gently against her stomach. Flexing his fingers, Daemon moved them gently across her navel, bathing in her sweet scent, as he listened to her soft voice.
"Issa aōhon. Dīnagon iā riña isse nyke, se kepa kessa daor sagon able naejot ivestragon daor." It is yours. Put a child in me, and Father will not be able to say no.
She heard him groan near her throat. The thought of a child of their own…purple eyes, silver hair, threads of gold…the pride of the Fourteen Flames…a dragonlord or goddess of Old Valyria…it only seemed to spur him on, and Rhaenyra could feel his hard member press against her thigh.
They were made for each other.
"Dīnagon nyke." Marry me.
Rhaenyra heard his mumble, and didn't even hesitate in giving him her response.
"Kessa." Yes.
Finally pulling his head back, letting his long hair brush against her hardened nipples, Daemon parted her lips so as to make room for his tongue.
The most heated and passionate of all their kisses followed, and Rhaenyra could finally feel the unbearable heat between her thighs.
Sensing her desire, Daemon broke their kiss, whispering, "Daor kesīr." Not here.
Behind the seriousness of his tone, Rhaenyra recognized a promise…and from the look in his eyes, it was more of an oath.
Her heart fluttered as he practically dragged her in a hurry back to the Red Keep. He did not wish to have her first time be in the filthiest corner of Flea Bottom, surrounded by the exaggerated moans of whores and the sickening smell of sewers.
Rhaenyra did her best to keep herself hidden in the page boy garments, as she kept up with Daemon's fast pace.
The hidden passageways aided them to reach his own chambers in no time. No Kingsguards were posted at the doors, and Rhaenyra could only bite her bottom lip, attempting to hide her grin. Not one of her father's knights would ever dare insist that the Rogue Prince needed protection. She was certain that Daemon must have threatened them with Dark Sister should any one of them attempt to disturb him with their presence…even one outside his doors.
Turning towards him, Rhaenyra disrobed enticingly, throwing away her page boy garments, so as to reveal her body in a much brighter light than that of the hidden room in the brothel.
"Iksan aōhon, ñuha zaldrīzes." I am yours, my dragon.
His eyes roaming from the tips of her silver-gold hairs, down to her most intimate parts, Daemon licked his lips, noticing her desire pooling between her thighs, as she backed herself towards his bed…spreading all over his blood red canopy bed.
"Ñuha dārilaros…ñuha prūmia…ñuha zaldrītsos." My princess…my heart…my little dragon.
The Rogue Prince advanced seductively, and soon enough, their bodies moulded into one another. The safety of Daemon's chambers would not be able to keep the sounds of pleasure coming out of the Princess' mouth, from infiltrating the walls, and making them vibrate.
The pain had come and gone rather fast, and Rhaenyra could easily focus on the pleasure her lover brought her.
Groaning, Daemon kept his mouth latched onto her neck, as they moved against one another. The bed creaked beneath them as the sounds of wood grinding against wood came on par with their breathless moans.
"Ao sagon ñuhon. Ñuhon." You are mine. Mine.
Daemon's possessive words only spurned her on. She dug her heels into his back, bringing him deeper inside her.
Rhaenyra could feel herself smiling, as she was nearing her peak. This was her moment…alone with her mate…allowing him to take what had always belonged to him. They would be married. Rhaenyra swore so before the Gods. She would have no other be her Consort. And they would have children worthy of the blessings the Fourteen Flames could bestow. They would bring the spirit of Old Valyria back into the heart of House Targaryen.
Her and Daemon…a dynasty of their own. How glorious!
The thought alone tipped her over the edge, and Rhaenyra felt her first true earth-shattering orgasm, with Daemon following close behind, spilling his seed deep inside her womb.
They would have only a few more moments of peace, breathing deeply, revelling in the afterglow of their lovemaking…before Ser Arryk's presence in Daemon's chambers would threaten to destroy Rhaenyra's long-desired future.
…
145 AC
"You have naught to worry about, Elinda. Lord Loreon will be good to her." Visenya stated, as she brushed her hair at her vanity.
Already in her nightshift, the Princess was helped by Elinda and the maids to prepare for bed. Her overly excited ladies-in-waiting had already retired for the night.
Elinor had every possession packed and she would be leaving for the Westerlands the following morrow. Her aunt, Elinda, did seem reluctant to let her go.
The woman let the tears she had been holding in, fall slowly on her rosy cheeks, before responding, "I am sure of that, Princess. But even at four and twenty years of age, she has the mind and the sensibility of a child. Whilst Loreon Lannister has proven to be a decent young man, I am uncertain that Elinor is ready to be the lady of such an important household."
"She has learned plenty since she has arrived at Court. You can attest to that. And such a match will diminish the rumours concerning her maidenhead."
Elinda eyed Visenya warily for a moment, and the Princess' heart almost broke at the sight. The woman must have already known what had happened to her poor niece…and the thought of consequences following the girl, frightened Elinda.
Lowering her voice, Elinda took advantage of the maids slithering out of Visenya's chambers, and said, "Loreon Lannister is still a powerful lord, Princess. Should the rumours reveal themselves to be truthful…"
"They shall not." Visenya stopped her train of thought.
"There will be a wedding…and then a bedding."
"Not all pure girls bleed in their marriage bed, Elinda. You yourself told me that. In any case…Loreon Lannister is not in any position to make demands. His mother murdered a prince of the blood, and the Crown ordered his marriage to Elinor. There is naught he can do."
"He may not be able to escape the marriage…but he might grow to resent her. And she is too sensitive."
On that, Visenya could agree. Although being the eldest of her companions, Elinor had been most prone to shyness and the most delicate of the four ladies. Mayhaps also because of her most unwanted experience before the Maiden's Day Ball.
The Princess hoped with all her heart that Loreon Lannister would turn out to be the man she felt he was, and he would treat Elinor with the utmost respect and kindness. This match was the best Visenya could do for her…and it had potential to be beneficial to both House Massey and House Targaryen.
Nevertheless, Visenya walked over and took Elinda's hand in hers, telling her softly, "I am certain everything will be alright."
"I shall pray for it." Elinda replied with a gentle smile.
Visenya then turned around, heading over to her vanity. Talk of husbands made her think about one of her own. And unfortunately for those around her…the Princess was not thinking of her betrothed.
Gently opening one of her boxes of jewels, Visenya ran the tips of her fingers over the jade tiara Viserys had gifted her…the one which had once belonged to their mother.
A shadow of a smile crossed her face, as Visenya felt an irresistible urge to see him…now. The night had always brought such intimacy…such calmness. She could not remember the last time she had been in his rooms.
Determined, Visenya hid the jade tiara back in the box sitting on her vanity, before turning around and heading towards the doors.
"Princess, where are you going?" Elinda called out. "We have prepared you for rest."
"I shall rest a little while later, Elinda. I wish to see Viserys."
"Now? But…"
"I know it is late. I seem to catch the hour of the wolf oft these nights…but I truly feel restless. Speaking to him shall provide me comfort." Visenya explained and tried to hide her smile as she moved to open the doors.
"You shall not find him, Princess." Elinda eventually told her, making Visenya stop in her tracks.
Turning around slowly, her lilac-coloured eyes almost sparkling with curiosity, the Princess asked, "What do you mean?"
Elinda hesitated, her mouth parting and then closing slowly, as though knowing the effect the news might have on the girl.
But Visenya would have none of it.
Huffing, she crossed her hands over her nightshift, and advanced back towards her, her eyes narrowing, as she asked the woman, "Elinda, what did you hear?"
"Lord Commander Ruskyn informed me not too long ago that Prince Viserys has gone…"
"Has gone where?" Visenya asked, knowing the answer, but wishing to hear it from her mouth.
"To the Street of Silk, Princess." Elinda replied, knowing it would do no good to lie.
Visenya did not flinch, regardless of how much the news upset her.
Nonetheless, she had been preparing for such an occasion. She had not told anyone of it. Not her ladies, and not even Elinda.
Disrobing herself expertly of the nightshift, Visenya walked to the drawer where she had hidden those hideous garments…belonging to a page boy.
Elinda gasped, when she saw what Visenya was putting on.
"Princess…what…what is this?" the older woman stuttered, her eyes roaming from Visenya's face to her newfound clothes.
"I am going out, Elinda."
"Out?"
"To Flea Bottom."
"Princess! You cannot!"
"I shall. I find it unjust how my brother is free to roam those streets and I am not. I wish to go out there and see the subjects my brother, Aegon, rules. And I intend on finding out what Viserys is doing in those brothels."
Of course, I know what he'll be doing, Visenya thought to herself with an overwhelming feeling of sadness.
"Oh, not again!" Elinda suddenly exclaimed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation.
"Again?" Visenya questioned, but Elinda would not respond this time. She would not choose this night to reveal to the Princess her own mother's escapades with the Rogue Prince on the Street of Silk.
"Princess, you cannot leave the Red Keep. The Gold Cloaks…"
"I have an arrangement with Ser Joffrey and Ser Dennis. The Gold Cloaks will never know."
Elinda gaped at the Princess' resourcefulness.
"Even so…I do not think…" Elinda stuttered.
"I am going, Elinda. Please, do not say a word."
"You cannot go alone."
"I must."
The Princess' words were definite and Lady Elinda could do naught but watch history repeat itself.
…
Visenya never expected to inspire such devotion from Ser Joffrey Staunton. The knight wasted no time in helping her sneak past the Gold Cloaks and out of the Keep. There was only one thing he asked of her. That she find Viserys as soon as possible, and keep out of sight.
The Princess could see his hands shaking as he pushed open the final doors, releasing her from the insides of the Red Keep. It had been so long since she had last seen the capital outside the protection of the castle walls. Royal progresses had not taken place too oft. Visenya could say that it had been mayhaps at least four years since she had last been on one, alongside Aegon, Viserys and Daenaera.
"Let me come with you, Princess." Ser Joffrey suddenly whispered in the cold night, as Visenya pulled the strings of her breeches so as to further tighten them around her body.
Visenya's eyes softened as she sensed the tremble in his voice. What this poor knight was doing could be seen as high treason, should anyone discover the truth of how the Princess escaped the Red Keep, without being spotted by the Gold Cloaks.
"You did not see me, and I did not see you. Ser Joffrey, do not fret. I shall return soon. My brother will not allow anything to happen to me. And if he can move about Flea Bottom without consequence, so can I."
Maintaining his hesitation, Ser Joffrey instructed Visenya on the route that Viserys had been seen taking…so many nights for the past year.
Navigating the city had not been easy for the Princess. Some of the paths, she was beginning to recognize, and her instincts proved to be on her side that night, when she managed to hide herself from the few Gold Cloaks still patrolling the streets.
She kept going…all the way to a much darker path, where the candlelight was not nearly as bright as she would have hoped. Her heart quickened, as she began to hear moans.
Visenya was entering the Street of Silk, her eyes gazing from left to right at the various brothels emptying the lusty lords' pockets. From the gossip which reached the Kingsguard and the maids around Court, Visenya had learned of the specific brothel Viserys had been visiting. It was the furthest one…the biggest…and the quietest.
As secluded as it was, Visenya noticed it was also heavily guarded. Mayhaps, the guests paid well for the discretion. She was more than certain that this is where Viserys had been spending most of his nights.
But how was she to enter?
Hiding behind a close-by wall, Visenya gasped in shock at seeing a line of young girls heading inside. They were dressed differently. Some garments prettier than others. But they all had one thing in common. Long, silver-like hair.
Her instincts kicking in, Visenya realized that this was her one chance.
Taking off the cap, she released her long curls, and headed to join the line of girls. The guards did not even blink, as she headed inside. Though upon entering, Visenya realized the danger she had put herself in.
These girls may have had silver-coloured hair but that is all that defined them. No purple eyes. No fair skin. They were naught but poor imitations of what Valyrian beauties truly looked like.
Visenya was beginning to stand out…a goddess among mortals.
She quickly placed the cap back on her head so as to conceal her hair, and lowered her face, so as to not reveal how her lilac-coloured eyes glowed in the dim light of the pleasure house.
The men were all too preoccupied in taking their pick from the line of girls. The brothel keepers paid her no mind at all, as their eyes glowed with excitement at the sight of gold coins leaving these men's pockets. They were willing to pay however much was necessary, so as to have a Valyrian-like girl in their bed. A poor imitation, as far as Visenya was concerned.
One of these girls was heading in a different direction, however, as instructed by one of the keepers.
Visenya heard the whisper from the older woman's mouth, "Our very special guest. Make certain to please him."
She followed the girl, managing to remain undetected, all the way to a secluded back room.
The girl opened the door to reveal a bed with fresh sheets, fur carpets, and a fireplace.
Visenya covered her mouth to keep herself from exclaiming in surprise, as she recognized Viserys' back from a distance.
He was standing in that room, his body facing the roaring fire, as he began to disrobe. Just his doublet and shirt. The breeches and the underclothes remained.
The Princess kept her gaze on his back…the muscles attesting to his dedication when it comes to swordsmanship.
She watched in silence as Viserys took the girl gently by the hand, pulling her close, and whispering something in her ear.
His forehead was then pressed to hers, his nose tracing her cheek softly, as his hands caressed her body.
Visenya bit the inside of her cheek, managing to draw blood, as she felt rage overcome her. She shivered at the sight of this much kinder and gentle nature which Viserys was showing a mere girl he met that night.
He was not treating her as one would a whore. He caressed her and provided ministration as he would a lover…someone close to his heart.
It pained the Princess to have to bear witness to this. After all they've been through together, all they've meant to one another over the years, he preferred to take comfort in the arms of a stranger…one he was paying.
He did naught but keep her in his embrace for the longest time…so much so, that both Visenya and the girl were wondering whether the coupling was to ever begin.
"My prince, I can…" the whore began saying, as she reached for his breeches, but he immediately pushed his hands away, turning her back around so as he could focus on her silver hair.
"No!" Viserys' harsh voice came all too sudden, making even Visenya flinch from a distance.
A much softer tone of his followed, as he pulled the girl almost forcibly back to himself. The roaring fire shadowed the forms of what appeared to be two lovers.
Viserys' lips were pressed to her hair, as if taking in a scent he was thinking of, rather than sensing that very moment.
One word escaped his lips. One which, unbeknownst to him, others aside from the paid whore, would hear.
"Visenya."
Her name. Hers. Visenya stifled a gasp.
The girl froze, and as the intimate embrace continued, she found the courage to excuse herself so she could go to the privy. And surprisingly, Viserys agreed to it, disappointment shown clearly over his face.
Visenya was awestruck, as she watched the girl scurry out of the room.
All she could think of was the silver hair, and the height of the whore. From the back, she could very well resemble the Princess.
As if influenced by higher forces above, Visenya let her fingers trace the page boy garments, as she disrobed achingly slow, watching Viserys sit on the bed, holding his head between his hands.
Soon enough, Visenya was standing bare in the hidden corner outside the room, her silver-gold locks freed from the itching cap. She trembled at the rush of cold running through her. It was as though her body was the one in control, attracted to the warmth of the room.
She stepped inside, keeping her head low, as she approached the flames in the fireplace.
A dragon's comfort. Fire.
Her body stiffened when she felt him get up from the bed.
He was coming towards her.
Visenya kept her face down, and bit her lip to keep from eliciting a moan at the feel of his hands wrapping around her waist.
He pulled her back against his chest and her heart fluttered with excitement. Heat was instantly pooling between her thighs, as Visenya tried to keep her feet grounded…her mind clear. That proved to be quite the challenge.
She felt his lips press against her hair, as his fingers roamed over her navel in a caress.
Visenya understood the ministrations that oft occurred between lovers. She had never experienced it with anyone before, of course. But she had practiced…using her own hands.
She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against his shoulder, unable to hold back her moans any longer.
His lips now moved to her exposed neck, trailing her soft skin and murmuring in High Valyrian.
She could not contain herself any longer. Whimpering, she whispered his name.
"Viserys."
His hands instantly stopped exploring her body, and Visenya felt her blood run cold. She had ruined the moment. Her dreams of having him hold her…all shattered because of one word.
Visenya yelped when she felt him spin her around to face him.
Matching lilac eyes met, and Visenya had never seen him look so shocked.
"What…what…?" he began, and shook his head, pulling his hands back as though her touch could only burn him.
It was not oft one would manage to render him speechless.
"Viserys…" Visenya whispered, as she walked towards him.
No. She couldn't bare his rejection.
"What are you doing here?! Who helped you move past the Gold Cloaks? WHO?!" he spoke rapidly, wildly…whereas his wide eyes moved from her face all the way down to her body. He was seeing her for the first time. Truly seeing her.
His words may have been harsh, but his body expressed itself differently.
Visenya noticed his smouldering gaze, the heave of his chest and the twitch of the fingers which had brushed against her skin.
"No one. I came on my own." she lied, reaching out with one trembling hand in order to cup his cheek.
His own touch was rough, as he grabbed her hand and tried to move it away from him.
"Viserys, don't…"
But he would not listen. Realizing the danger of their situation, he moved swiftly towards the door of the room, slamming it shut and locking it, whispering prayers that they had not been seen.
When he finally turned around, his hands were clenched into fists, as he roared, "Get dressed! NOW!"
"NO!" she argued.
"Visenya, 'tis not a game!"
"Surely not. Not for me."
Taking a deep breath, she moved towards him, her hands reaching out to explore his chest. Every single detail of it was something she wanted imprinted in her mind.
She had longed for this…and she would not let him ruin it.
"Do you not understand what you're doing?" Viserys whispered, his eyes following the patterns she was now tracing on his chest.
"You are a princess…and a maiden. Unwed. Untouched. Should you be discovered by any pair of eyes, it will bring about your ruin. No prospects. Your betrothal to Lord Tyrell in shambles…and the Crown humiliated.", he continued.
Of course, he would be speaking of politicking at a time like this.
Ignoring his statement completely, Visenya pursued her quest of seduction. She was determined to make him reveal what he felt for her.
Her hand traced upwards against his neck, feeling him shiver with pleasure. His body was responding to her touch, and he would not be able to hide his enthusiasm for much longer.
"You spoke my name." Visenya spoke softly.
"I…"
"Is that what you do when you come here? You take girls who resemble me, and pretend they truly are me when you hold them in your embrace?"
He would not respond. He would just gaze into her orbits…and pretend as though what was lower did not interest him.
Taking a few steps back, Visenya smiled when he reached for her…hungrily even.
"Jurnegon rȳ nyke." Look at me.
Boldly tracing her fingers around her breasts, going to her navel…and all the way down to her clit, Visenya watched his eyes darken at the sight. She could not tell whether he was growing angrier…or lustful.
Even so, Visenya continued to speak enticingly…in the tongue of their forebears.
"Bisa iksis aōhon. Gūrogon ziry." This is yours. Take it.
Moving one finger inside her privates, she could feel the juices of her desire…similar to when she would touch herself in her rooms.
With his resistance continuing, Visenya was determined to lay a final blow.
"Issi ao naejot ivestragī mirri kasta valītsos gūrogon nyke?" Are you to let some green boy take me?
Viserys' resolve seemed to have snapped, and he advanced quickly.
The Princess yelped when she was pushed against the wall, his lips descending down on hers with hunger.
Visenya moaned, when she felt the larger fingers on her cheeks attempting to widen her mouth…allowing him entrance with his tongue.
She had expected her first kiss to be much sweeter…not as consuming, not as laced with deep passion…and not in any way aggressive.
Though, there was naught about Viserys that was foreseeable. Naught could be considered 'sweet'.
The smallfolk had heard about the interrogations in the black cells after Baelor's death. They were determined to refer to Viserys now as 'the son of the Rogue Prince'. It was fitting, indeed.
The kiss continued, for so long, as it was becoming difficult to breathe…and yet Viserys would not relent. With both his hands clasping her cheeks, he was in a stance from which he could not wake.
He was starved for her. So long had he been denied this pleasure. He himself had denied it. For she was still young…still but a girl, even at six and ten. And even so…he supposed a match between her and a powerful lord would be of better use, not only for the Crown, but also for her.
Though, in this moment, in her arms, tasting the flower petals she had for lips, breathing in her scent…all thoughts of the Tyrells, the Hightowers and the Bank of Oldtown vanished. For there was only one word which consumed his mind.
"Ñuhon." Mine.
He could feel her smiling in their kiss, and his heart soared.
Her hands reached for his breeches, and as soon as he felt her hands brush against his bulge, he pulled back, allowing them both to breathe.
Visenya's eyes had darkened with desire, as much as his own had. Her lips were parted, as she breathed in and out. She craved him, just as much as he craved her.
But this was not the place.
Leaning his forehead back against hers, he told her decisively, "Daor kesīr." Not here.
He would be damned if he would allow her first experience to take place in a pleasure house.
In no time, her page boy garments had been returned on her body, as he himself dressed. He kept her out of sight as he paid the brothel keepers once more for their discretion, before whisking her back towards the Red Keep.
The halls were quiet, forever guarded by the Gold Cloaks.
Visenya slipped secretly inside his chambers, and waited for him, as he dealt with the Kingsguard.
'Tis the first time she had seen his place of utmost privacy. His table, his quills, his books, his parchments, his fireplace…his canopy bed.
Every single object in the chambers looked to be his.
His Hand pin was neatly rested on a nearby pillow.
Visenya could not help the genuine smile on her face, as her skin still tingled from his touch. With great agitation, she disrobed, and chose to remain completely uncovered, until the moment he returned.
The light in his chambers proved to reveal that much more than the fireplace in the brothel, and Viserys' mouth watered…his gaze of hunger returning, as he locked the doors behind him.
Visenya breathed in deeply, her hands rubbing against one another nervously.
Even so, she reached for him, whispering, "Ñuha zaldrīzes. Māzigon naejot nyke." My dragon. Come to me.
She did not know what compelled her to say such words. For the past hour, she had been consumed by an unknown force. Mayhaps…the Old Gods of Valyria themselves? Was this their way of expressing their blessing…their approval of such a match?
"Ñuhon." Mine.
Viserys continued to repeat the word possessively, as he grabbed her, nearly throwing her on his bed.
As soon as he lowered himself above her, Visenya moaned at the feel of his lips against her breasts, sucking at her teats with a hunger greater than that of a babe. His hand moved between her thighs, intent on eliciting more pleasurable sounds from her mouth.
He was expertly moving his fingers above her pearl, kissing all over her body…marking her, before moving upwards and capturing her lips in a slower kiss.
"Urnēptre nyke." Show me.
"Skoros?" What?
"Urnēptre nyke skorkydoso ao renigon aōla." Show me how you touch yourself.
Visenya instantly reddened at the thought of how he had caught her pleasuring herself in the halls of the Keep only a few moons ago. Even then, the intrigue had been evident on his face. Now, he was determined to see more.
She offered what he desired.
Looking deep into his eyes, Visenya lowered her hand to meet his own near her privates.
He allowed her to take the lead for a few more moments, before covering her own hand with his…guiding her…teaching her.
Before she could reach her peak, Viserys pulled back, sitting on his knees, and disrobing himself fully, allowing her to watch.
She was highly warmed up, bothered even, as she rubbed her thighs together in an attempt to release herself of whatever was gnawing at her.
Unburdening her, Viserys ran his hand through her silver-gold locks, rubbing their noses together sweetly, as he placed his other hand gently on her thigh, raising it enough so as he could position himself.
His amorous words in the beautiful tongue of High Valyrian prepared her for the sharp intake of pain to follow.
Viserys entered her as gently as he could, his eyebrows furrowing with concern as he felt her breathing hitch at the intrusion. The pain overwhelmed her.
It would not be for long.
The gasps and hisses soon turned into loud moans and groans.
Visenya covered her mouth with one hand, praying with all her might that none of the guards or the Gold Cloaks were to hear. They were fortunate that Viserys' chambers were not a priority for the knights when it came to protection.
The speed of Viserys' thrusts increased. Long gone was the pain, and the Princess was introduced to the kind of pleasure she had never fathomed.
Grabbing a hold of his buttocks, Visenya met his thrusts with excitement.
Moaning, she began speaking, as she chased her pleasure, "Kessa. Kostilus. Kessa. Visērȳs." Yes. Please. Yes. Viserys.
He, in turn, spoke softly in her ear. "Ñuha dōna. Ñuha prūmia." My sweet. My heart.
They found pleasure in unison, reaching heights they did not expect. They could feel their hearts beating loudly.
Viserys bit her shoulder, attempting to regain his wits, as his member softened inside her.
Visenya's lips were parted, her eyes closed, as she enjoyed the satisfaction of their long-awaited coupling.
Consequences be damned!
They were the blood of the dragon…and they would take what they wanted.
A/N: Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed the update. It has been posted on Ao3 as well.