An Emperor's Song
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything that is seen as property by the Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire & Percy Jackson & the Olympians franchises.
Warning: This story showcases violent themes, inappropriate sexual acts, foul language, etc. that is not suitable for most audiences, especially young adults and children. Please read at your own discretion or not at all.
Chapter 23. Curse of Madness
299 AC
Arc 1: Clash of Kings
oOo
With Margaery…
The sea air was crisp as the ship cut through the narrow bay that led to the towering cliffs of Casterly Rock. Margaery stood at the prow, her eyes locked on the imposing fortress ahead. It had been surprising to hear that the seat of the Lannisters was now under Targaryen control. Although the victory, however well-fought, had come at a steep price—one that hung over her like a gathering storm.
There were rumors that Viserys had lost his grip on reality in the aftermath of his triumph. Madness inherited from his father, they said, had crept into his mind, under the pressure of securing the impenetrable stronghold, like a venomous serpent.
Beside her, Daenerys remained silent, her violet eyes as stormy as the skies that threatened rain. Margaery could feel the weight of her worry. Viserys was her brother, her blood, this madness was something none of them had foreseen.
Behind them at the ship's helm, Perseus focused on guiding them into the shipping bay of the castle, his face grim. He hadn't spoken much since they'd left Dragonstone, and when he did, it was only to take the blame for Viserys's supposed condition. Margaery had tried to pry more from him—but Perseus's lips were sealed. His guilt was palpable, but she couldn't shake the feeling that more was at play here.
As they disembarked, the cold stone of the Rock greeted them like a silent sentinel. The red and black banners of the house of dragons flapped in the wind where lions once roared. It was a symbol of victory, of power seized—but to Margaery, it felt hollow.
They were led through winding halls, the walls echoing with the distant sounds of soldiers and servants, until finally, they reached the chambers where Viserys was being kept.
"Open the door." Perseus ordered the dozen men who guarded the door.
One of the men stepped forward, he seemed of higher station than a simple soldier, but in front of the imposing aura of the rightful king, his authority may as well have been like that of a squire.
"My king, it's best I inform you first that it took nearly twenty men to confine Prince Viserys to this room. The prince is—not in a stable condition." It wasn't lost on Margaery that the officer skirted around the word 'mad'.
"Captain, the door." Perseus simply repeated, unfaltered by the information he was given.
The officer bowed before nodding to the multiple guards at the door who exchanged wary glances as they opened it, allowing the trio to enter.
Margaery's breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. Viserys, the once-proud prince, sat slumped in a gilded chair, his silver hair tangled and unkempt, his eyes wild and unfocused. He muttered to himself in a language she did not understand, his hands twitching as though grasping at unseen enemies.
Daenerys gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Viserys…" she whispered, stepping forward.
Perseus's jaw tightened, and he moved to follow, but Margaery grabbed his arm. "What happened to him?" she asked, her voice low but sharp. She had seen many men after battle—broken, battered, haunted—but this was something else entirely. This was not the man who had fearlessly led his army into the west, but a shell of him, ravaged by something far worse than any blade.
Perseus turned to her, his eyes hollow. "I thought things would be different here," he said, his voice barely audible. "I should have known there would be a price to pay. I shouldn't have told him to ask the gods for help."
Margaery's heart sank. She hadn't known Perseus for long but she was keen to recognize the weight of his words. Whatever had happened during the final hours of the siege, it had shattered Viserys, and now Perseus carried that burden on his shoulders.
Daenerys knelt by her brother's side, her voice soft and pleading. "Viserys, it's me… Daenerys. I'm here." But he did not respond, his eyes darting across the room as if seeing phantoms in the shadows.
Margaery's gaze drifted to the room itself. It was grand, decorated with the spoils of conquest, but the air was thick with an oppressive gloom. She had heard of such madness before—kings driven to insanity by their thirst for power, warriors broken by the horrors of war—but this… this was so different. The Jackals of Casterly Rock had, in their desperation, unleashed something dark and insidious. Something that had laid claim to Viserys's mind.
Her fingers tightened on Perseus's arm though she may as well have been trying to squeeze a bar of iron. "This isn't just madness, is it?"
Perseus shook his head, his face downtrodden. "No. It's something far worse. A curse. Most blessings come with them."
Margaery felt a chill run down her spine. Daenerys looked up at them, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "We have to save him," she said, her voice trembling. "Perseus, we have to find a way."
But as Margaery looked at Viserys—trapped in his own mind, a prisoner of unseen horrors—she wondered if there was anything left to save.
Then, her prince's eyes snapped to hers and she felt her heart race as she noticed the glimmer of recognition appear in his eyes before Viserys madly dashed across the room toward her.
Perseus stepped in front of her, his form protective, but that only seemed to make Viserys's movement seem more hostile.
The prince of House Targaryen pounced on his nephew with beast-like ferocity. Just as it seemed that Viserys was about to grab ahold of him, Perseus's leg lashed out, catching his uncle with a lightning fast front kick to the chin.
Her breathing stopped momentarily as she witnessed her beloved's head violently whip back from the force, but her worries were not warranted as the attack only seemed to make Viserys stumble back a few paces before he sped forward again.
Surprise showed over Perseus's face as he was forced to sidestep Viserys's lunge, putting considerable distance between him and the prince.
Her heart sped up when Viserys's wild expression turned to her, but for whatever reason, she didn't feel an ounce of fear. It was as if she instinctively knew that she wouldn't be harmed by her prince. And this was proven when he turned her back to her and looked back toward Perseus.
"Mine." Viserys growled at his nephew, his stance a slight crouch as if he were anticipating an attack.
Perseus blinked at his uncle's proclamation, looked at her, then blinked again. He was evidently very confused.
But Margaery was beginning to understand what was happening. With only a hint of hesitation, she stepped forward. Viserys tensed at her approaching presence but he did not turn his aggression to her, his eyes remained firmly on the other Targaryen.
She warmly embraced her beloved, her chest pressing against his back. "That's right, my love. I am yours." She whispered soothingly in his ear.
A tremor visibly spread through Viserys at her affirmation and his tense stance lessened to a degree. She was then briefly startled when he pulled her in front of him, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as she was brought closer to him.
Though his eyes still remained on Perseus, the previous promise of violence that had been in her beloved's gaze had simmered down significantly. It showed that he could be reasoned with and it also showed that her love was still somewhere in there amidst the all-consuming flames of madness.
"Let me be with him. Alone," Margaery told Perseus and Daenerys. "I can bring him back."
Doubt showed in the Targaryen patriarch's eyes but a sense of understanding entered Daenerys's.
"Let's leave them be, Perseus. Viserys won't harm her." The princess gave her a soft, knowing smile as she grasped her nephew's hand.
Though he still looked uncertain, his trust in Daenerys was obviously without question as he simply nodded and allowed himself to be directed out of the room, Viserys glaring at him all the way.
Once she and Viserys were alone, she only had a moment of silence before her lover scooped her up and walked back over to the chair he had been occupying.
(Mature Scene)
He sat down and promptly plopped Margaery down onto his lap, his arms returning around her waist. She let out a shaky breath at the low rumbling that reverberated deep from the prince's throat as he began nuzzling her neck.
"I missed you too, beloved." She lovingly rubbed her palms against his chest, his muscles rippling underneath linen fabric.
His response was a low growl as he gripped her waist more firmly. She could feel his erection growing in his trousers, and though this was what she had been expecting, her heart still began racing when he savagely tore off her dress.
Viserys gripped her hips, his tongue entering her mouth. One of his hands then fell down to her panty clad ass which he immediately rendered bare with a jerk of his wrist, leaving his palm free to wander her plump, soft rear. His primal actions drew low moans from her. She was used to her prince's dominant nature, but it seemed that nature had been magnified tenfold.
Margaery reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and straddled him, leaning further into his kiss and touch.
While she focused most of her efforts on countering the tongue that was invading her mouth, Viserys seemed more interested in playing with her soft ass.
Margaery pulled away from the kiss to look at him with amusement. "Is my ass really that fascinating?"
"Mine." The growled response she received and the sharp slap to her ass that came after not only made her gasp in arousal but also surprise.
Even if it had only been a word, Viserys had responded to her unlike before where his mind was fully consumed by madness.
Invigorated by the success she was starting to have, Margaery leaned heavily on his side and gave him a coy smile that held palpable amounts of desire and excitement. "That's right, my love. I'm all yours." To emphasize, she arched her back and poked her ass out to give her beloved a glorious view which he hungrily took in, his eyes roaming down her flawless back and to her backside.
After his moment of visual admiration, Viserys began his exploration by gripping, smacking and shaking her asscheeks to make it jiggle like gelée, his hand always lingering to massage the soft flesh afterwards.
While her prince happily played with her ass like a child did with their favorite toy, Margaery rubbed his hardening member through his trousers gradually making it strain tightly in his pants.
His attention was taken away from her ass when she reached inside of his pants and pulled out his raging boner.
A gasp escaped her lips as she looked down at his thick, pulsating cock. "Did you get bigger?" She breathed out in disbelief and a bit of apprehension.
When they first started having sex it took her weeks to be able to barely take all that he could give and he now looked slightly bigger than that.
The only reason she was able to quickly shove her hesitation aside was because of the smile that Viserys gave her. He was slowly but surely responding to her words.
Wrapping her soft, dainty hands firmly around him as if she were holding a sword by its hilt, Margaery began moving her arms up and down.
Even as a sigh escaped him at her actions, Viserys was not idle in the least. While she slowly stroked his length, a hand reached in between her asscheeks.
Another gasp slipped from Margaery's lips when he cupped her bare pussy with his fingers. He then made a show of dragging his finger up, sensually separating her slick and puffy lower lips.
More gasps fled from her at his passionate actions, her entire body was trembling as she leaned against him, whimpering at his touch.
Seemingly invigorated by the blatant arousal that ran down her pale inner thighs, Viserys slipped his finger inside of her.
"Haah~!" Needless to say, Margaery was quickly losing all sense of self.
"You are mine." She almost didn't register that her prince had spoken two more words than the last time as her current function had been reduced to mewling and looping her arms around his neck as she pressed up against him.
Her beloved was so very skilled with his fingers, and rightfully so. When Viserys first found out how tight she naturally was, he always took his time fingering her to get her prepared for him. It would've been a cause of shame for most noble women who wished to be ready for their husbands at all times but she distinctly remembered an occasion where he made light of the situation by implying that if she were any tighter he'd have to finger her with a stick.
Her thoughts were scrambled when he also slipped his ring finger inside of her womanhood drawing further moans. It took barely a moment for him to find her sweet spot and when he brushed against it, the response was immediate.
"Hnnn~!" Margaery moaned helplessly, her hips instinctively grinding as he began working his two fingers against her most sensitive spot, his other arm firmly wrapped around her slim waist to keep her place.
After her sweet spot was pressured for a good while, Margaery noticed the telltale signs of her upcoming orgasm.
"My love~!" She whimpered as she felt her body gearing up for something explosive.
"My love~." Regardless if it was a repetition of her own words, the way her prince's low animalistic growl had reverberated in her ear made her erupt in a series of spasms.
The blissful after effect of Margaery's orgasm lasted a bit longer than it usually did, but Viserys didn't seem to mind. In fact, she could feel his warm arousal throbbing against her belly.
He watched her euphoric expression with the curiosity of a hatchling, the familiar glint of pride entering in his eyes.
So prideful in fact that he verbally made it known. "Good girl~" Her dragon purred, his fingers still idly rummaging inside of her.
An electric tremor went through Margaery's body as her pussy went from practically drenched to flooded, her inner walls clenching so tightly around his fingers to the point that she wouldn't doubt if they lost circulation for a brief moment.
If she ever decided to not state it plainly, her body was making it very apparent that she greatly enjoyed being given praise by her beloved.
She was hardly prepared when Viserys leaned down, slipping his tongue through her parted lips in a smooth fashion.
Having never come close to putting up a fight even while her mind wasn't so addled, it came as no surprise that Margaery instantly gave up any sort of fight and simply surrendered her mouth to be devoured by him.
After fully exploring her to his leisure, Margaery was finally allowed to pull back for a much needed moment to breathe, a thick line of saliva connecting their mouths for a brief moment.
"Haaa~!" The expression she wore as she caught her breath must've been downright sinful as her beloved's cock pulsed hard against her.
Viserys suddenly carried her over to the bed nearby and practically threw on her back. He began tearing off all of his clothing while she soaked up the view of her handsome prince, his rippling muscles and chiseled features were making her wetter by the second.
After he joined her in being fully bare, he genuinely made a sound akin to a growl as he crept forward, like a dragon stalking toward its defenseless prey.
And it seemed that Viserys wasn't the only one who was currently feeling primal urges because Margaery instinctively parted her legs for her strong dragon.
Taking hold of the back of her knees, he pushed apart her legs to further reveal the gushy, pink entrance that hid beautifully between her puffy lips. Without any time wasted, he dove right in.
"Hhnn~!" Moans immediately erupted from her mouth as Viserys without delay went straight for her clit that had long since engorged itself.
His mouth licked and sucked all over the small pleasure nub with a zeal that was seldom shown. Even with the past sessions they had, he hadn't even come close to devouring her pussy like how he was currently doing. He was like a beast having its last supper.
Viserys also made sure to firmly hold her quaking legs apart, the only thing in the whole world that seemed to matter to him at the moment was gorging himself on the fine cuisine that was in front of him.
Loud moans and cries of pleasure rang throughout the entire room as Margaery simply had no choice but to squirm helplessly in place as she was all but literally devoured by him.
"Ooh, aaahhnn~!" Margaery helplessly moaned out, her hands clawing through his silver locks as she fully succumbed to the euphoric world of pleasure.
Upping the ante, Viserys slipped two fingers back inside of her dripping wet pussy and began firmly pumping his arm while continuing to eat her out, stimulating both her inner and her outer sweet spots in a very effective plan to bring her over the edge.
"W-wait, my love—I can't—hnnggh~!" And it seemed this was indeed far too much for her to handle as she barely lasted a minute before her legs began violently shaking and her pussy began squirting madly like a water fountain.
She couldn't witness it as her eyes were currently rolled to the back of her head but she trembled and moaned in ecstasy when her dragon made sure to lap up every last drop of his hard earned meal with gusto.
The aftermath of her dual stimulated release lasted significantly longer than her previous orgasm. Long enough to make her wonder if she still had the energy to continue.
"My love." She heard from Viserys who began pawing at her chest while claiming her lips with a kiss that hinted at deeper intimate feelings other than lust.
She felt a strand of hair being tucked behind her ear and Viserys grasping her cheek to deepen their kiss as he smoothly positioned himself in between her legs. His actions were quickly becoming less primal and more loving.
As their kiss became more and more chaste, Margaery directed his cock to her dripping pussy and moaned as it rubbed against her.
After a moment longer, they both seemed to silently agree that they were more than ready to take it to the final step.
Grabbing a hold of his pulsating man meat, Margaery carefully lined up the bulbous tip of his cock with her entrance and prompted him to give a small push to get the tip inside, drawing a low moan from both of them at the sensation.
Locking onto his eyes as he caressed her cheek, she was instantly able to recognize the change in his now gentle gaze. "Viserys, are you back?" She herself didn't know where exactly he would be coming back from but she felt that she had to ask to be certain.
Her heart almost exploded when a warm smile appeared on her silver prince's face. "I am." He replied.
"I love you so much." A teary-eyed Margaery smiled in joy. Her silver prince was still here and that was the only thing that mattered to her.
"And I love you just as much." If his words seemed to take the breath out of her then his next action quite literally did.
With a smooth and sturdy thrust, Viserys sank balls deep into her inner sanctum, claiming every nook and cranny possible for himself.
Whatever smidgen of discomfort that appeared on her face at being stuffed to the brim was immediately stolen away by a heartfelt kiss.
They both seemed to pour their hearts out into the kiss, neither side willing to let the other go without them knowing the true extent of their love for the other.
And they continued to kiss each other with utmost love even as Viserys began digging deeper and deeper inside of her until the tip of his cock teased the entrance to her womb as if telling her exactly what his goal was.
Separating from her beloved's lips, Margaery with ragged, strained breathing, peered down to see his girth encased so deeply inside of her stretched pussy that she could see a faint bulge in her lower stomach.
Words couldn't fully describe how good it felt to be fully wrapped around him. But as always, it was a hundred times better than anything she had ever experienced before.
"Fuck~!" Viserys instinctively moaned a curse under his breath as he was no doubt struggling to withhold the strong urge to throw all caution to the wind and pound her recklessly.
Meanwhile, Margaery was frankly trying to get reacquainted with having her guts rearranged by him as she squirmed and moaned beneath him.
After waiting a few more moments for both of them to adjust, Viserys finally began moving his hips.
"Ahhh~!" Her pleasure was immediate as he set a slow and steady rhythm.
This wasn't like their usual trysts. Viserys wasn't simply trying to fuck her, his intention was to make love to her. And he did just that by invading his thickness into places that were so deep she hadn't even been aware of them.
Her beloved intimately observed every minute shift in facial expression, every sound and every breath she made. Every one of his movements was made with the intention to make her melt into a puddle of moans and pleasure.
Leaning down, Viserys claimed her as his even more by smothering her neck with possessive and loving kisses.
"Hnnng~!" She let out moans right next to his ear, serving as further encouragement that made him double his efforts in brushing his cock against all of her sensitive spots.
The loud, wet squelching noises that filled the room was proof enough that his actions were getting an immense reaction out of Margaery. "Ooh, you feel so good~" She moaned wantonly in his ear.
"Do you like it when I fuck you like this?" Viserys whispered huskily to her.
"Gods yes, you're so deep~!" She cried out.
Viserys sat up on the back of his heels, letting her legs rest on his shoulders while gaining a steady grip on her hips to begin driving his hips forward with deep, hard thrusts. A hiss of pleasure escaped both their lips as he sank deeper into her wet heat.
"Hnnnnnn~!" Margaery moaned around his shaft, her eyes clenched shut as more pleasure began flowing into her.
"Harder, fuck me harder please~!" She told him, his hips moving with more energy before she could even fully get out her request.
He reached out to tear away her flimsy bra like it was made of paper. Her round breasts now bare, Viserys's heated gaze was on her perky tits that shook with every movement. His show got even better when she began fondling her own chest, tweaking her hardened nipples for his viewing pleasure.
Viserys used his palm to pleasure her clit in a circular motion. "Aaaahhnnn~" Margaery's body shook as all of the accumulated actions quickly made her feel as if her mind was being put through a grinder.
With every thrust, her soaking wet pussy squeezed and twisted around him, the faster he went the tighter she made it for him. He wouldn't be allowed even a moment of reprieve lest he find himself utterly trapped inside of her.
But despite her best efforts to not let the intense sensations she was feeling overwhelm her, Margaery felt her release approaching at a startling pace.
"I'm close!" Viserys breathed out his own warning, his hips still thrusting.
"Wait, not yet!" She hastily laid him on his back, momentarily surprising him.
Though that expression quickly turned into satisfaction when Margaery threw her leg over him as if she were mounting a stallion before reaching beneath her to slip his cock back inside of her.
It then became blatantly obvious that she had gotten quite good at her skill in riding cock. The way she winded and grinded her hips down on him while she smoothly worked every inch of his manhood inside and around her deepest parts gained moans and whines from her lover.
"Ahhh fuck~!" Viserys groaned out when she suddenly twisted around his girth so that she was in the same saddled position but in reverse.
Margaery threw an alluring smile over her shoulder before she quickly doubled her efforts to make it feel like a typhoon had suddenly engulfed his cock.
Her prince was now in the best position to admire the way she engulfed his girth as she rode him like he was a prized horse. But as always, Viserys did more than just enjoy the show as he began fondling, smacking and holding apart her plump asscheeks.
Ever since her first failed marriage, Margaery never once entertained a thought of happily pleasuring a man. But as she rode her silver-haired prince who was utterly captivated by the way she was showing her devotion, the idea began to settle surprisingly well with her.
"Ahh~!" Margaery gasped in shock when Viserys suddenly hammered his hips up into her from below.
If the initial hard thrust made her aware of the threat to her sanity, then the next robbed her of all bodily functions when he thrusted upward again, moving aside her insides with his girthy cock.
"Hnnn~!" Her prior rhythm was completely disrupted with just two thrusts, Margaery fell forward onto her elbows as she tried to regain her sense of self.
But this moment was apparently exactly what her lover had been waiting for, because he quickly transitioned into a kneeling position behind her, his hand pressing down on the small of her back, making her back arch and her ass poke out. He then dug an iron grip into the soft, supple flesh of her hips.
From there, Viserys seemingly unchained his inner dragon and let loose all of his raw desire to reduce her into a mewling mess. With hard and rapid thrusts that deeply penetrated her innards, the prince made it his goal to stuff absolutely everything he had inside of her snug, wet snatch.
"Hnnn—f-fuck, please—Viserys, please don't stop~!" Margaery cursed deliriously as she was repeatedly tasked with taking in the thickest cock in all of Westeros.
Thankfully, stopping seemed to be the last thing on her dragon's mind. She imagined his rock hard body rippling as he pounded her with a level of ferocity that he only saved for the battlefield.
"Fuuck, I love it! Please keep f-fucking me. Nnghhh~!" If her fellow highborn lady friends were to see her, a lady of House Tyrell, being turned into a moaning whore as her prince claimed what was his by both right and might then they would forever lament their own future marriages to men far inferior to her dragon.
"You're mine, aren't you?" Oh, Viserys knew very well what her answer was, he just wanted to hear her say it. And she was more than happy to shout it out for the gods themselves to hear.
"By the gods, I'm yours! Hnngh! For as long as I live I'm yours—ahnn~!" Margaery gave a mixture of a yelp and moan when his palm sharply connected with her backside.
Unable to even hold herself up on her elbows any longer, Margaery's face collapsed onto the bed as she very much embraced her new role as a whimpering mess of submission, though she still had at least some sense to speak.
"Please my love, give me your seed. I want to be swollen with your heirs~!" Despite her cheeks being squished against the silk sheets, she thought she pleaded her case to him quite convincingly. Also, she couldn't currently think of a better time to be impregnated. She could envision it now. After putting her little dragons to bed she would return to her future husband's chambers where she would also be put to rest.
Hearing the sincerity in her voice seemed to only invigorate Viserys, so with a noise akin to a snarl he grabbed both of her arms and pulled, making her tits jutt out as he used them as leverage to bring her back into his mighty thrusts.
Growls, loud cries and the gushy, wet smacks of his cock plundering her soaking pussy were the only audible noises within the room.
"It-s-so de-eep~!" Margaery seemed incapable of coherent speech as she could only moan with her eyes rolled to the back of her skull.
Just based on her betrothed's throbbing cock, she knew very well that he was moments away from his climax.
"Mnnnn~!" A lengthy moan escaped Margaery when he gave one last deep thrust before shooting the biggest load he'd ever shot inside of her.
Her own squirting climax made her inner walls convulse around him so tightly that she was sure her body was purposely trying to wring out every last bit of cum that he had and funnel it directly to her womb.
His release lasted longer than usual, to the point that she knew his creamy seed would've seeped out her lower lips had they not been so tightly stretched around his girth. And it was a good thing too because at that moment all she wanted was to make sure her womb stayed filled with his virile seed. It would now be her duty not only as a wife but a woman as well. Every night they retired to their chambers she would make sure to work tirelessly to keep her belly swollen with his hatchlings and her voice hoarse from screaming his name.
So Margaery encouraged her lover to stay deep within her as he spilled everything he had which was quite a lot. She wouldn't be surprised at all if this single moment managed to impregnate her.
Eventually though, Viserys's release ended but he seemed reluctant to withdraw from her tight warmth, so he remained inside of her even as they both laid down on their sides together, his cock acting as a natural plug that would help her retain as much of his seed as possible.
(Mature Scene End)
Allowing herself time to recover, she was content to simply be spooned by her prince who nuzzled her neck lovingly.
"That was amazing!" Despite being utterly exhausted, Margaery looked over her shoulder to smile at him as he had no doubt given her the greatest gift ever, to become a mother.
An equally satisfied Viserys smiled proudly, making his semi-hardened member twitch from inside her love tunnel. "If I didn't have to finish taking the Westerlands, we would be doing this for the next week." Both his actions and words drew a quiet moan from Margaery who instinctively snuggled back against him.
Though the two lovers decided not to engage in further acts that would lead to them inevitably going into another round of intense love making and simply remained within each other's warm embrace.
"The war is nearly over." Viserys commented, idly rubbing her belly that would undoubtedly be filled with his child after tonight. "We can start making our family now."
"I wonder what it's going to be like to raise a nest of dragons." Margaery smiles, wistfully resting her head on his shoulder. "What were you like as a child?"
"Well, I didn't really have much of a childhood. Most of it was spent evading assassins." Viserys chuckled.
Margaery immediately apologized. "I'm so sorry, my love-!" She begins to sincerely say but is cut off by him.
"It's fine. I know you meant no harm by it." He silenced any further protests with a peck on the lips and an easy grin.
"But to answer your question, I was—a cunt." She could tell that Viserys was not ashamed in the slightest to admit that he had been little more than a whiny little boy some years ago.
"You couldn't have been that bad." She says, disbelieving.
"Oh trust me, if you heard the old me bitch and moan all day, you'd have been as dry as a Dornish well." She failed to hide a muffled snort from behind her hands.
After somewhat getting her composure back, Margaery spoke again. "Well, I can only pray that such behavior is not hereditary." She giggled.
"You won't have to pray. Our children will be perfect. Their mother is the most beautiful lady in the whole world." Viserys grinned suavely as he circled his arm tighter around her.
Meanwhile, Margaery lovingly cupped his cheek. "And their father is the most handsome prince ever known. Though I'm not sure if I should also mention that your cock is surely the biggest in Westeros." She gained a rousing smile.
"Careful, talk like that can get you in trouble." Viserys purrs, his hand drifting up to sensually caress her soft breasts.
"Am I supposed to be worried?" She teased back.
A broad grin formed on his face before he lifted one of her legs. "Let's see how long you can keep that energy, love."
As she was once again subjected to the world of pleasure, Margaery couldn't help but thank the gods for leading her to her silver prince.
oOo
Days later, with Rob Stark…
The walls of Ashemark shuddered with each blast from Tywin Lannister's siege. Robb stood on the parapet, his gaze fixed on the enemy banners rippling in the cold wind. Lannister gold blazed as far as the eye could see, an endless tide, and his own numbers had dwindled to a fraction of what they'd been. His men were exhausted, their strength spent, and he could feel their morale crumbling like the old stones beneath their feet.
The letter from Perseus Targaryen felt like a lifetime ago. He had hoped for aid immediately after he accepted the other heirs' offer of alliance, but hope was a bitter thing when matched against the cold certainty of steel. His jaw tightened as he surveyed the field, his hands gripping the stone. Tomorrow, Ashemark would fall. And with it, the North.
"Your Grace."
Robb turned, Grey Wind at his side, his massive dire wolf growling low. Lord Roose Bolton approached, his face grim but calm as ever.
"They'll breach the walls by morning," the Lord of the Dreadfort said. "We've done all we can. It's only a matter of time."
"I know." Robb's voice was steady, though every word felt like a weight pressing down on his chest. He thought of his mother, Jon, Sansa, Bran, Arya and Rickon. What would they say of him in the songs when all was lost? He had tried his hardest. He had fought till his last breath. But the odds had always been against him. And now here he was, a lone wolf, making his final stand against a pride of lions.
Suddenly, a horn blast echoed across the field—not from the Lannister lines, but from the west. A sound foreign to this war, deep and thunderous. Robb turned sharply, heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, there was nothing. Then the ground began to rumble, a distant quake that grew with each passing second.
"What is that?" Lord Roose asked, his eyes narrowing.
Robb didn't answer. He was already moving, hurrying to the western wall. The sight that greeted him when he reached it took his breath away.
From the distant hills, banners emerged, black and red, dragon banners. Hundreds, no—thousands—of soldiers poured forth in organized ranks. At their head, a figure in dark armor, riding a black stallion, a dragon's banner streaming behind him. The Targaryen sigil gleamed in the dying light of the sun.
Perseus Targaryen had come.
A roar of disbelief rose from the Lannister forces, and in a heartbeat, the battlefield shifted. Where moments ago Robb had seen only the grim inevitability of defeat, now there was chaos. The western flank of Tywin's army had broken into a disorganized scramble as the Targaryen forces crashed into their lines like a wave of fury and steel.
"They're here…" Lord Bolton gasped, hope slowly returning to his dead gaze.
Eyes wide in disbelief, Robb observed as the Targaryen's began decimating the Lannister's.
Though one side was very clearly spearheading toward victory, the ensuing battle wasn't any different from the multiple others that Robb had seen or experienced. There was only one thing that made a distinct difference.
Robb knew what it was like to fight in a vanguard. And while he had only done so once, as he quickly learned that leading from the front, while motivating for his soldiers, was simply not the smartest decision, he knew how hectic it could get. The frontlines of two armies going head to head was a chaotic and brutal collision that was forever ingrained in a soldier's mind if they were lucky to get out with their lives.
And yet, Perseus Targaryen fought on the frontlines as if he were born to wage warfare. His black handled sword, which had a distinguishing shimmer that could only be likened to Valyrian steel, was a conduit for death and gore. With every slash, a life was stolen; with every hack, a limb was taken.
Despite staring down an army of twenty thousand, there wasn't a single hint of hesitation or fear in the Targaryen's advancement, even at the times where he was seemingly surrounded by the enemy. The North could only watch in awe at the sight.
"He fights like a hero of old." A nearby squire whispered, the boy's face lit in amazement.
Another three Lannister soldiers fell to the Targaryen king, their lives taken in the mind boggling span of ten seconds. Never before had Robb, or anyone, witnessed a dozen men being killed in under a minute. Perseus did it with frightening precision and ease, as if it were a normal feat.
"Or a demon." Lord Bolton muttered from beside him.
"Rally the men! Now is the time to counterattack!" Robb broke his men's stupor with a stalwart order that made the North scramble to re-engage with the enemy.
But despite his external indifference, the Wolf King couldn't help but agree with both statements. For no normal person could replicate what Perseus was doing to an army of seasoned soldiers.
And for once, Robb was glad that his mother's wits had stopped him from declaring himself an enemy of the Targaryens. For there was no honor to be seen in this battle—only death.
oOo
Earlier, with Perseus…
Perseus couldn't stop his brow from rising as he stared at the ragtag militia group kneeling in front of him.
"Your grace, I, Lord Beric Dondarrion, swear my sword to you. Please accept my eternal servitude and the servitude of the men under my command." A man with red, gold hair and a scar running across his face that was oddly familiar for some reason.
Standing awkwardly behind the lord were four people. A blonde boy and a brown haired girl who stared at Perseus with varying levels of unease and shyness, a staff-carrying old man in baggy red robes and a red haired woman who he was already familiar with.
"When your letter said that a band of misfits wanted to swear allegiance to me I wasn't expecting—well, this." Perseus comments, unsure of what to say.
A now groomed Viserys snorted from beside him, dressed in full armor for the upcoming battle. "Apparently you're the champion of their god, Rylor, or something." Beric, the balding man and the red priestess shifted irritably at that.
"R'hllor is the chosen name of the one true god, prince." The red priestess informed his uncle who waved her off uncaringly.
Perseus's eyes shifted to the red priestess, Melisandre, he remembered. "Aren't you supposed to be fleeing Westeros with Stannis?" He questioned the fiery haired woman.
He watched as the priestess strode forward, uncaring of the threatening looks she received from the few Unsullied who stood guard around him, before she dropped down onto both knees and prostrated to him.
"My lord, I have come to amend my wrongdoings. I was led astray by Stannis's false light and my own arrogance in thinking that I could not be blinded from that which R'hllor did not wish for me to see. Please accept my servitude. Allow me the absolute honor of witnessing the rise of the chosen one, the rise of the Azor Ahai." Overzealous was usually a word that stayed six feet away from his ordinary vocabulary, but Perseus had no other kind way to describe the words and actions of the woman prostrating before him.
"And how are you so certain that I am this chosen person that you speak of?" He knew for certain that R'hllor was his divine parent and so Melisandre's faith was not technically misplaced this time around, but he still wanted to know how strong her belief was. After all, if she for whatever reason came to believe that he wasn't the chosen of R'hllor then a betrayal was inevitable.
At his question, Melisandre looked up at him, coincidentally giving him a full view of her pale, full cleavage and red eyes that held a startling amount of intensity. "You definitely come from his flame. I can feel it~." The sheer amount of worship in the priestess's expression was equally uncomfortable and enticing.
"Lucky bastard." He heard Viserys grumble.
Quickly stomping out the embers of arousal that was being stoked within him with every second spent looking down at the red haired beauty, Perseus coughed into his hand. "I guess that's understandable. Welcome to the winning side I suppose. Grey Worm will get you all sorted out." He gestured to his stoic commander before quickly putting distance between him and the red priestess who continued to stare at him like he was a juicy cut of prime meat.
"That easy, huh." Viserys smirked as Perseus joined him.
"What? They could be useful." For whatever reason, he found the need to defend himself.
His uncle gave him a knowing look. "Mhm, I'm sure that red priestess will be very useful." The given implication made Perseus's eyes roll as they walked away from the previously bannerless militia group.
"She can be. And not for the reason you're thinking about," Perseus was quick to cut off that train of conversation. "In order to officially marry Daenerys, I'll need a priest from a large and widely known church to oversee the rites. I planned on just bribing the High Septon, but now that may not be the only option."
After all, one of the two things he could do if he couldn't get the Faith of the Seven to sanctify his and Daenerys's marriage was to get the followers of R'hllor to do it. The only obvious issue was that the majority of the people of Westeros only followed the Faith of the Seven or the Old Gods of the Forest. The church of the Lord of Light, despite dominating most of Essos, didn't have anywhere near as large a following in Westeros as the other two did. And so it would require a lot more work to integrate the church into Westerosi culture and get the common folk to accept it.
"Tell me," Perseus began, keeping his voice steady, as if he spoke of trivial things, though they both knew better. "You encountered something… divine, right?"
Viserys straightened, a glimmer of lost pride—in his eyes. "Yes. During my fight with the Jackals I heard one of the dragon gods of Old Valyria, Vhagar," he said, his voice laced with a touch of bitterness. "She granted me the strength I didn't have to beat the Jackals. A blessing, one might say."
Perseus looked at him. "And yet, most blessings come with burdens." He let the silence stretch, feeling the weight of it, pressing down like a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever strength this goddess gave you obviously comes with a price. You're now marked by the same thing that consumed your father."
For a moment, he saw Viserys flinch, just barely—a shadow passing through the flame of his resolve. But the Targaryen composed himself, straightening with a fierceness that had nothing to do with his usual haughtiness.
"I know, Perseus. This madness… it's a test of inheritance, our family's curse, and I will conquer it myself. I don't need help." Perseus's hand twitched, wanting to reach out, to comfort his uncle.
"Honestly, I can't offer it to you even though I want to. I've seen the face of madness. But I'm not arrogant enough to say that I know a foolproof way of getting rid of it. You'll probably forever have to ride the fine line between inner peace and madness. It'll be a battle of sorts, not something as simple as good versus evil, but rather you versus you." His voice softened, laced with genuine empathy. "But I know you'll be able to overcome this, Viserys. You've found inner peace with Margaery. So you're already going in the right direction. "
Perseus studied Viserys, seeing in the man a kind of iron determination he'd rarely glimpsed before. It greatly struck something that was already present within him—respect. Finally, he nodded, the words heavy as they left him. "Your path is yours to lead now, uncle."
He allowed himself a moment to gather his thoughts, then changed the subject, though the weight of their last words lingered in the air between them.
Perseus continued, voice hardened now with purpose. "We'll be marching to House Marbrand's ancestral seat. Tywin Lannister's forces are looking to stamp out Robb Stark and the North by tomorrow, and we're the only ones in a position to stop him. Since you're already familiar with the battle tactics of the west, you'll be directing the army from the rear while I ride with the vanguard. Together, we'll tear apart the Lannister's army."
Viserys's face twisted into a fierce smile, the fire of his ambition and his anger burning through whatever doubts that lingered. He nodded, and Perseus knew that despite all the recent strife, the man was ready. For now, it was enough. With that, the subject changed to a much lighter note.
"How is my sister taking to being a betrothed woman? Has any of her boyish tendencies changed?" Viserys grins at the snort that earned.
"She's been trying harder to beat me in our sparring sessions. And I noticed that she's starting to wear her dresses less often too. Thankfully she hasn't said anything about cutting her hair yet." Perseus didn't really care about the former mentions as he wasn't a very traditional guy to begin with, but he would mourn greatly if Daenerys ever decided to cut her long and wonderfully soft hair.
"Vhagar's tits, I'll pray for your marriage nephew. I couldn't imagine my Margaery ever doing anything like that. She loves it when I'm the one in control." His uncle's swaggering steps were starting to annoy him.
"Wasn't it just the other night that Margaery made you sound like a wounded animal? I guess divine blessings have their limits." Perseus smirked when Viserys's head shot toward him.
"How do you know that?" His uncle's frantic eyes only made his smirk widen.
"Shadows talk." Came Perseus's nonchalant reply before he jogged ahead of his gaping uncle.
"Who did you tell?" Viserys ran after him. "Who else knows? Nephew!"
Anyone unaware of the free spirited nature of the Targaryens would find it strange to see them comically running around the army's camp. They also wouldn't believe that they would be the same men that led the indiscriminate slaughter of an army twenty thousand strong.
oOo
Sometime after the battle with Robb…
Campfires smoldered against the cool night air, their smoke mingling with the faint stench of blood.
The Battle of Ashemark had been a slaughter—twenty thousand Lannister soldiers laid to waste. And yet, Tywin Lannister had slipped through their fingers, barely evading the noose that had been primed for his neck.
Robb clenched his jaw at the thought, but forced himself to focus on what lay ahead.
He stood in the meeting tent, alongside his fellow Northmen, waiting for Perseus and his commanders to arrive. When they eventually did, their gazes were keen, faces weary but proud. Robb inclined his head in acknowledgment as Perseus took his place at the head of the table. There was no point in trying to pretend. Everyone knew exactly who the most powerful man in the tent was.
Perseus nodded toward him, his voice calm, though each word carried a quiet strength that signified his kingly status. "Lord Stark, it seems you owe us thanks. Without the strength of House Targaryen, your victory would've been far bloodier." He was putting it lightly. If the Targaryen's hadn't arrived then they would've all been killed, probably at this very moment.
Nonetheless, Robb returned his nod. "The North remembers," he said simply. "But Tywin lives, and so long as he draws breath, the war is not won."
Perseus acknowledged that truth with a disappointed look. "True. I had been hoping to personally end that old man's life. He is one of the main causes of my family's downfall you see. But it's no problem, we simply move forward—together. My forces combined with the forces of the Reach, Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the North, is more than enough to finally end this war and take King's Landing."
A murmur of agreement passed through the assembled leaders. Robb felt the weight of the moment, a glimmer of hope at last brightening the grim path that had led him here. And then Perseus spoke again, his gaze intense, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.
"And as a gesture of good faith between allies, I have found someone that may be of interest to you, Lord Stark." he said, gesturing to a figure standing in the tent's entry just outside of the firelight.
A small figure stepped forward, and Robb's breath caught. There, in a worn cloak and with eyes brighter than he'd ever remembered, was Arya.
"Robb!" Her voice broke with joy as she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his midriff tightly. Robb held her close, relief flooding through him in waves. For a moment, the war, the bloodshed, even Tywin's escape—all of it faded. He had gotten one of his pack mates back.
"Arya," he murmured, struggling to believe she was really here, safe, at his side. He looked over her shoulder at Perseus, eyes filled with a gratitude he couldn't quite express. "Thank you. I thought we had lost her."
The Targaryen nodded, his gaze understanding. "She was in good hands. Apparently, some of my newer forces had been unknowingly watching over her. But when I was made aware of her status, I wanted to make sure she found her way back to you. And also, I've organized a suitable convoy that will escort your mother back to Winterfell. She should already be there whenever you decide to return." The Wolf King was once again stunned by the hospitality of the Targaryen king.
Robb let go of Arya reluctantly, his mind slowly returning to the brutal reality of the war. He fixed his gaze on Perseus. "You've given me back my sister and mother. And for that, I give you my oath that I will repay you with two favors equal to that." A few of the Northern lords inhaled sharply at his words. All Northerners took oaths very seriously, but this was especially true for House Stark.
"This may be uncouth," Robb continued, "but I would ask you for assistance in rescuing my other sister, Sansa. She is currently being held hostage in King's Landing by the Lannister's."
Perseus met his gaze, unflinching. "You have my word, Lord Stark. I will see to it that your sister is brought to safety."
Relief and resolve mingled within Robb but he glanced at his dire wolf, who lay in a corner. Grey Wind gave him a subtle nod, his instincts were usually correct but his dire wolf had far better instincts than he did and it showed in the many times he had been saved from being stabbed in the back by his closest companion.
So with that confirmation, Robb knew without a doubt that, unless the situation changed drastically, he found an ally that he could trust, not only in war but in times of peace. The North and the Targaryens were now united against the Iron Throne.
They would end this war—and perhaps, at last, he would bring his family home and restore the honor of House Stark.
A/N: For whatever reasons, some people don't seem to like my explicit scenes. So I made it clear exactly where they start and end. Feel free to skip over it, they usually don't add too much to the narrative of the story but sometimes they might. Thank you all for one thousand reviews. I would've hit it way sooner if I was consistent tbh. Anyways, for faster chapters, review. Also, I'll start uploading AES chapters ahead on my pat once I get my uploading schedule sorted out. More details soon. Until next time!