A/N: Big news. After nine moons, Littleclaw has been welcomed into the world, a healthy baby boy :D

Chapter 28: Firsts

"Stay quiet, Princess."

"Then remove the sack over my head and let me go, Red."

Rhaenys hears Ygritte snort, only the harsh sounds of her breath close to her ear telling her that the wildling girl was on her left side. "I'm being very serious, Princess. Mance isn't fuckin' around this time."

The urge for her to comment that having being beaten within the inch of her life as a means of interrogation died as soon as she heard the faint voice in the distance. Sure, plenty of wildlings had talked and chattered after her head was covered and she was bound and hauled about a march to gods' knew where - however, this voice was in the accent of someone of the south. "You stand before…"

Suddenly she recognized it. Was that Ser Jaime?

"Be quiet!" Ygritte hissed, less a command and more a plea.

"...Dowager Queen Rhaella Targaryen…" Rhaenys' eyes widened underneath the hood. "Mother of King Rhaegar of House Targaryen, First of his Name." She wanted to scream out to her grandmother, call out to her with the fury of a dragon bound… but something in Ygritte's voice made her pause. That her being here, so close to salvation, was a curse more than a blessing.

That she was safer in the midst of the wildling camp than here at this parlay.

"Quite the list of titles." That was Mance, his voice rather gruff but without guile or bitterness. The Smallfolk King, Rhaenys had come to call him. All the responsibility without the tradition and blood… and the least power of any King. Damned be anyone who tried to subject the various chiefs of the wildlings. "I only have one, King Beyond the Wall."

"How quaint." Rhaella's voice was icy. "We will not give credence to your humility any more than you'll give us credence over our pompous formalities and voluminous titles." In the distance, a dragon roared. Rhaenys recognized Jaimexes, which somehow gave her a level of comfort even with the knowledge that her still being bound meant she held the same reticence in crossing the wall that Nymerion had. "Where is my granddaughter?"

"Bring her forth!" The voice was Val's, and harsh.

"Aight, Princess, come on." Ygritte gently lifted her up. "Gotta put the blade to yer' belly, just for show, alright?"

Rhaenys snorted. "Dragons forget nothing."

Slowly they began walking out through the snow, Rhaenys helpless as her blackened vision allowed her only in the direction Ygritte guided her. "It's either me doin' this or the Lord of Bones. You pick." She had her there.

Suddenly her hood was removed, what sunlight making it through the snowclouds blinding still as she blinked a storm. "Rhaenys!"

Finally squinting, she caught her grandmother, the first familiar face in… however long she had been a captive. "Grandmother!" Defiance surged through her core. "Give them fucking nothing…!" Rhaenys managed to say before Val - shoving her way forward - forced a gag upon her mouth." She tried to bite at Val's fingers, but it didn't work. The blue and black war-paint on Val's eyes and cheek made her look like a demon, and she definitely had the ferocity to back it up.

"As you can see she is alive," Mance spoke, his voice wary. "We'll give you to her, but in exchange we wish to be allowed south of the Wall in full, with transfer of all castles of the Night's Watch and both Old and New Gifts turned over to the clans of the Free Folk."

"The crown has no authority to broker lands belonging to the Watch," Jaime explained.

Mance chuckled. "What wolves and dragons gave, they can take away. The Watch is too weak to stop you."

Eyes locked with Rhaella's, the Princess could see her grandmother's fear morph into anger. "Do you think I am cowed in the slightest by your implied threats? I have seen the horrors of plagues, wars, and the full brutality of Aerys the Mad at his worst. It would take a lot more than a deserter with delusions of grandeur and his army of savages to shake me."

Val leveled her knife at Rhae's throat, to which it was clear neither she nor Ygritte could really stop. "Be careful, lest I make her into a corpse."

"Enough, Val." Mance frowned. "We shan't kill her, she is of no use to us dead, but the loss of a limb would make her useless to the Crown…" His lip curled upward. "Or, considering she's the nephew of Lord Stark, the same fate as the story of Bael the Bard?" Rhaenys recognized it immediately… the King Beyond the Wall was essentially threatening to steal her and force her to himself in marriage.

She'd kill him before he tried.

But her grandmother rose to the occasion. "You aren't enough a man to handle a dragon," Rhaella shot back, standing tall. Even though she was quite petite, the red-black gown and fire in her violet eyes made her a force to be reckoned with. "Your terms are rejected, King Mance, and we will get Rhaenys back… but mark my words, even if I am not the one to do so one day a dragon will make your whole kingdom burn."

"Princess?"

Rhaenys looked up to see Ygritte's cornflower blue eyes stare at her. "Yes, Red?" It had been two days since the failed parlay between the wildlings and her grandmother, and only just now had the tension lessened any sort in Mance's camp.

A snort. "Actually like that name… makes me sound like a badarse - 'Red,' cause my arrows rain blood upon the snow." She laughed merrily.

Rolling her eyes, the Targaryen Princess laid flat on the floor. "Alright, if you'd rather jape and boast about yourself than ask me the question…"

"Fine, fine." Ygritte stretched her shoulders, causing her chest to push up against the leather tunic worn underneath her outer-furs. Unlike her Dornish kin, this wildling girl wasn't endowed with an extensive plenty, but what was there was on display and Rhaenys couldn't help but notice. "Why're you here?"

"Hmmm?" For a moment, she was distracted.

If Ygritte noticed why Rhae was distracted, she didn't show it. Meant her question was a serious one, or one she truly wished to know. "Ye' have a fuckin' dragon. We all heard it, and the one from your grandmother. And I know you aren't the sort to refrain from leaving wastes through the True North with nothing but the dead if it was necessary."

"Ah, so I am a monster, then."

"No, just ruthless… it's a compliment, for survival matters more than morality, sometimes." Ygritte shrugged, clearly showing a lifetime without luxury or rest. Built a powerful, hardy person, but Rhaenys knew there was far more to the world than that. "But yer' dragon or yer' grandmother's dragon could bust you out of our clutches no matter what. Why didn't they?"

The answer… did Rhaenys trust Ygritte? The truth would essentially embolden the wildlings if the redhead let it spill, Mance and especially Val growing bolder and more brutal. With her as well as with the Night's Watch, her uncle's banners, and the rest. Rhaenys could trust Ygritte with some things, but her loyalty was still with the wildings overall. "They don't know where I am, and therefore if they use the dragons I would be burned."

There was no chance they'd know Rhaenys was unburnt. At least on Ygritte's accord.

Rubbing her chin, Ygritte nodded, making Rhaenys' heart unclench. "Makes sense, and truly it fuckin' sucks. Havin' those big bastards and being unable to actually use them. We don't stop usin' our giants to make things easier."

"Don't the giants get pissed off?"

"Nah, we do stuff for them so they're calm about it… when livin' in the True North, the freedom comes with a price. Everyone has to survive. Can't rest, can't stop."

"There's always a price." Rhaenys sighed. "It's true even in the south."

"Oh? How's that?"

Thinking back to all she had read, all she had heard and the bits she had seen, Rhaenys' voice was low and haunting - as icy as the cold outside. "There are worse fates than simply failure to survive, Ygritte. Failure there… the fate that befalls you is worse than death."

But Ygritte's reply truly left all to freeze. "You know nothing, Rhaenys Targaryen, of what could be worse than death."

"Are you going to ask?"

Dacey had to hand it to her goodsister - the severe beauty of Dorne was quite persistent and not in the subtle way the others of House Martell had perfected. Obara Mormont was almost a Northwoman in the skin of a Dornishwoman. Direct and powerful, hammering away again and again. It was how she managed to twist Jorah around her little finger, it was how she acclimated herself to where she didn't shiver even at the Wall, and it was how she continuously asked Dacey and Jorah of what they had discussed on the boat ride from Bear Island to the mainland all until reaching the gates of Castle Black.

"Alright, we'll ask him once we get a moment alone," Dacey insisted as they passed under the gates at the van of the Mormont column. Behind were four hundred mounted men-at-arms, the flower of their banners. Aunt Maege and cousin Alysanne led them at the rear, while Jorah, Obara, and she were in front.

"You'd better, or I'll ask." Yes, I suspect you would.

"Princess Rhaenys matters more, wife," Jorah stated.

Obara glared at him. "Don't tell me the obvious. Of course she does."

That was why they were there, and why there were two dragons mounted atop the Wall than merely one.

Lord Stark greeted them alongside the other northern Lords - Queen Rhaella was there but asleep, tired from a long ride in the cold to parlay with the wildlings. Unsuccessfully Dacey easily figured out. Savages. Lord Commander Jeor Mormont quickly made himself known to her elation, but they were professional in public. His gruff command mannerisms still as brooding and intimidating as ever.

As soon as the door did close to the Lord Commander's quarters did Jeor's gruff exterior fade and he embraced his children. "Oh, my son, my daughter… the old gods granted me one day to regard you all grown and one eye to do so with."

Dacey chuckled through her tears - sounding like a salty pirate with consumption though he did, her father was a poet with words when he wished to be. "I hope we both pass muster, father."

Wet with salty tears, she felt her father's lips press against her brow, kissing her sweetly. "For you, glorious Bear of the Capitol, my expectations are exceeded." He pulled back, running a hand along the tops of her shoulders down to her arms. "Even stronger than when I last bid you farewell, and yet still as beautiful. The temptations of the south have not taken my daughter away from the lessons I taught her, and in that I cannot be more proud."

She smiled, nodding her head. "Her Grace, Queen Lyanna, never allows any of her companions to forget their northern roots… not that I ever would."

"She is safe with her blade and your mace beside it, that I am sure of." Jeor turned to Jorah, his tone growing less soft but just as affectionate. "My son, I see you brought your wife."

"Aye, she insisted to help rescue her cousin… Oberyn remains with Jorelle, alongside Arthur and Lyanna."

Nodding, Jeor looked out the window. "Never would I think that my goodson and gooddaughter would both be Dornish, nor my grandchildren half-Dornish and still in possession of the Mormont name." He tapped on the hilt of his dagger before laughing. "Better than a prissy Reach flower, don't you think?"

Dacey chortled. "Quite so, father. Could you imagine a Tyrell or Hightower of all people adapting to Bear Island? They'd think our fountain a bath and our lake a fountain." All three Mormonts managed a chuckle at that.

Taking a seat, Jeor sighed. "I am thankful to see my children again, but wish it were under better circumstances." The weight of his role and the harsh conditions of Castle Black and the Wall on a man of his age were evident in more than just his scars. Their father was a wiry old warrior, but now the wrinkles and liver spots began to assault him with fervor. It broke Dacey's heart to see him suffering while so old, and furthered her resolve from her earlier discussions with Jorah. "That I lost the Princess… on my watch… no matter what my accomplishments I will never escape this dishonor."

"Father, no." She approached him, kneeling by his seat and taking his hand.

"You must not blame yourself, father," Jorah insisted. "The wildlings are a savage bunch - you've said yourself that they cannot truly be predictable in anything they do."

"Aye… I did say that," he murmured. "Even still, I never should've left her on a scouting party… let alone the small patrols. What was Qhorin thinking?"

Looking at Jorah, who shrugged, Dacey winced. "Ser Sandor and Ser Benjen were both there with her, as was the Halfhand. There's no greater security for Princess Rhaenys and her direwolf." Given all of those, it must've been a large band of wildlings that attacked. "Father, you have served the realm well as both the loyal bannerman of the North and now as Lord Commander. Jorah and I have been speaking…"

"Devils take me then, when the two of you join ranks," he sputtered out, still gloomy but insisting on the jape.

Jorah shook his head with a smirk while Dacey rolled her eyes. Biting back a sharp retort. Her brother or paramour would've deserved her biting comments, but not her father. "We have been speaking, and when all of this is ended and Princess Rhaenys is recovered, I felt that a petition to the King to absolve you of your vows is warranted."

He looked to her, brow raised. "To mean to strip me of my cloak?"

"Aye, so you may live in peace at Bear Island, father," Jorah explained. "To see your grandchildren and live out your days in the home of your ancestors."

Jeor was silent for the longest time. "I have the best children… and I'm sure my sister's fingerprints are all over this, but I must refuse."

Dacey blinked, shocked. "Father, don't be stubborn…"

"This is not about stubbornness," he stated firmly. "I left Bear Island to Jorah because my time there had come to an end, while your brother's time had come. It would be useless to the North for me to continue rotting there, but I can at least live out my twilight years doing something useful and guarding the Realms of Men."

"This is a dead post, father," Dacey ground out. "Not fit for all but the dregs of the dungeons of castles from Last Hearth to Hellholt."

"No." Jeor shook his head. "There is a storm coming, a darkness… it's what's causing the wildlings to march south and I must be here to stop it and face it."

"The wildlings come south because they're greedy savages looking for loot," Jorah insisted.

Their father's one good eye stared up at the both of them. "You truly believe that, don't you?" He snorted. "Northmen, we're all stubborn fools… but long story short my duty is here with my brothers. I swore and oath and I will regain his honor at the Wall."

Dacey wanted to yell at him, but only sighed. "Oh, father…" She could do nothing but accept his embrace, in the shadow of one of the greats of Bear Island, only hoping to live up to the massive boots he left to fill.

There were parts of the Water Gardens in which Aegon had learned where he could be alone. Thanking both Tessarion and Mother Rhoyne that his uncle Doran chose to shift the household there for reasons known only to him, he had secluded himself either in his chambers or the private quarters of House Martell.

It worked for three days before people started to notice. Sparring, training, reading… spending his nights and some of his days locked in the embrace of a very pretty and very besotted maid three years his senior did help keep his mind off of his troubles. Sometimes helped, but his mind betrayed him. Thoughts back to the time in the brothel, of what he realized. And with his cousins and uncle beginning to wonder why he wouldn't join them on rides or for a swim, Aegon couldn't keep it up anymore.

Sigh leaving his lips, he left his chambers for the open-aired halls of the Water Gardens. The beauty would've drawn his attention, but Egg's mind was elsewhere. He needed to speak to someone - someone who would be both discreet and knowledgeable to advise him in his mess of thoughts. Uncle Oberyn was not an option, for just thinking about it made him blush. Aunt Ellaria… no, she was kind to him but had a strange candidness on sexual matters. Tyene and Nymeria were still in King's Landing, which was good since they were frightful gossips.

That left Arianne. As candid as Ellaria but less likely to write of his issue to his muna. That was not a conversation he wished to have.

Servants and guards bowed, but the Prince brushed past them - not dismissive but rather brooding and… tense. How would he tell Ari? Just blurt it out or dance around it? I mean, she's pretty experienced. All the knights at court and the female servants were flirting with her, right? Or was Asha's training not enough to read the signs?

Lost in thought and with his stomach churning into knots, Aegon absentmindedly grabbed the knob and threw open the door to his cousin's chambers without knocking. "Ari, I need to speak with…" As he walked in, his voice died and his eyes widened.

"Oh, Egg." In the middle of the lush bed, canopy draped with a gaudy gold and orange trim that made it seem like a high-class brothel, was Arianne Martell. She rested on her stomach, shins raised up and dangling idly as she read from a book… completely nude. "What brings you, here?"

"Ummm… uhhh…" She was his cousin - not that such a distinction mattered to a Targaryen - but Aegon couldn't deny that Arianne was a beautiful woman. Her dark hair mixed with a soft skin the color of bronze, her waist was slender but flared out to a shapely arse and perky tits a lucky man or woman could bury their face into. He'd be lying if he said he was not aroused, but Aegon's Targaryen strength managed to will itself into existence to resist. "I needed to ask you a question."

Clicking her tongue, she went back to her book. "Oh, what about? Courtiers to avoid? Cause we already had that discussion and you listened to me on all my suggestions that weren't pretty girls." Ari laughed to herself, only to frown in concern. "Is it about the news of your sister?"

Credit to Arianne, she did care deeply. "No… I mean, that does worry me." What could Egg do but worry? If anything, he was thankful for his own problems to provide a distraction. "It's… about…"

"A girl, then?" Her flirty self returned. "I can definitely help with that. Has your maid grown bored of you… or you of her? Wish for some more of my ladies? Cause I know which ones really need a good reaming to loosen up their moods."

Any other time would've found him laughing, but Egg blushed madly. "It's about… a man…"

Ari's brow rose. "Ah, I see." Shaking her head with a chuckle, she rose. Bounding off the bed with her breasts jiggling deliciously. "Let me put on a robe for this." Aegon waited on the balls of his feet till came the swish of fabric and Ari was finally in something he could stare at without stoking his desires. "Alright, alright… so, you're like uncle Obby?"

"I think. I simply don't truly know."

"What made you suspect." Egg told her of what happened in the brothel, to which Arianne nodded her approval. "Proactive, I respect that. You're smart, Egg, just like Baelon."

"I wouldn't compare myself to Baelon," he chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I know it's mundane…"

But Arianne shook her head. "No, this is quite necessary, and important." She sighed. "Which do you favor, men or women?"

Aegon blinked. "You can have a favorite?" From her smirk, he had obviously said something ignorant so he just answered the question. "I see more women I fancy then… men…"

A nod. "Good, good. Look Egg, you are not I and you are not our uncle. It is simpler for a woman to endure being attracted to the same sex, as it is for someone not expected to inherit anything."

"But why would that affect me?"

"Because you are royal, Egg. With your blood, if you fail to open yourself to alliances and providing children then only pain will result. Look at Laenor Velaryon - his attraction to men created the chaos of the 'Strong Bastards' and undermined Rhaenyra's claim to the Iron Throne."

"So, should I suppress this?"

"Truthfully, no." Arianne pressed her hand atop Egg's. "Given how unhealthy you were, any stress could damage you, but then again any flagrant behavior in this regard could harm you as well." Her brown eyes were filled with worry for him. "You're only four and ten so matters of marriage shouldn't matter, but they do."

Aegon tried to read between the lines. "What I think you're trying to say is to act on my desires, but carefully?"

"In Dorne if you can, where I can protect you - as long as the one whom you seek to bed is of our household?" Egg only nodded, to which Ari sighed in relief. "Good. When you go home, blatantly seduce as many women as you wish to build up a reputation, so if you're discovered with men at least you're not tainted as a poof. Rather one who has many options like Uncle."

"I assume that I must marry and sire many children."

"Be like your kepa, marry two. Baelon is doing it." They both laughed. "And whichever men you choose to bed, make sure they are willing to be discreet. No whores." She was adamant. "No whores, they cannot keep secrets." And there was that. Without anything left to say, Egg just hugged his cousin, who reciprocated. "Most importantly," she murmured into his ear. "Just enjoy yourself."

He smiled back. "Good advice."

Fortified, he made the inquiry through his new lover, the maid happy to do his bidding if it would earn another roll in the bed. A flagon of watered wine calmed his nerves as finally the one he so wished to see entered. "Your Grace," bowed Maron Sand, who looked particularly handsome today. Aware of it, Aegon's knees shook. "How may I be of service?"

He gulped. "Maron, it is obvious after your… display at the brothel as to which sex you desire."

His brow rose. "Quite blunt, then? Alright." A shrug. "Aye, I desire men."

"Only men?"

"Yes. Only men… women are wonderful, but I truly don't find them alluring as most do. As you do." But the bastard was forward, and clever. "But you are not that way, not completely, your Grace?"

Steadying himself with a deep breath, he nodded back. "I found that I am attracted to handsome young men as well as beautiful young maidens. This is new for me, as I know how to approach a woman for their…"

Striding forward, distance quite close and a new air filling the chambers, Maron covered Egg's lips with his finger. "Shh, your Grace. I can piece together the rest, and I desire the same." He chuckled. "Didn't expect this, but for you I shall rise to the occasion." Beneath his trousers, Maron's body matched his words.

Egg felt his cheeks flush red as he turned his head, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I… I haven't been with a man before," he admitted, his tone quiet. "So you're going to have to teach me what to do."

"Of course, my Prince, whatever you'd like," Maron replied. "It is quite the honor that

I will be my Prince's first man." Egg could feel his heart begin to beat a bit faster as Maron stepped closer to him. This felt similar to when Asha joined him in his bath, but different as well. Sex was sex, but men were not women, a completely different experience.

This is really going to happen. He wanted this…wanted to know what it would be like. He wanted to know if it would be any different from a woman, or if it would be the same.

When Egg felt Maron kiss him, he knew that there was no going back. "Come to bed," Maron purred after pulling away. "It'll be more comfortable." The Targaryen Prince allowed the bastard servant to guide them towards the bed, gently pushing Aegon onto his back. "Tell me what you want, my Prince," he continued, settling on top and leaning down to place light, gentle kisses on the side of Egg's neck.

Aegon was finding it difficult to concentrate, Maron's touch distracting. "Just… go slow. What would you want a lover to do to you."

His partner chuckled, and soon Maron's hand started to drift lower. Thankfully not making him wait too long for it to start. He gasped, the sound escaping his lips as he felt a hand grasp him. Much like Asha's tight grip leaving him hard and weeping, but stronger.

"Do you like this, my Prince?" Maron asked, applying a bit more pressure.

"Yes," Aegon replied. "Keep going." He placed a hand on the servant's shoulder. Aye, the Prince enjoyed this.

"I think you're a bit overdressed for the occasion." Maron temporarily let go so that he could sit up. "Seven hells, I think I am as well." Rising, he doffed his tunic, then his light trousers. Egg's eyes bulged at seeing the young man's sculpted back and arse. The latter made him hungry.

And banished his nerves. Woke the dragon. "Bend over," he demanded.

Maron only smirked. "Yes, your Grace?"

Leftovers from his evenings with the maid, Aegon smeared a bit of oil onto his member, remembering all that Ash had taught him. "I've followed long enough." He would take the lead now.

And by the gods, was it glorious.

Arthur didn't like them slipping out at night, not after Braavos. Jon was sure he'd frown upon this little junket of his as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, so a dagger found its way to his belt and Ghost trundled by his side, tongue sticking out from his maw as he bounded after Jon. "Good boy," he murmured.

Turning a corner, he was met with a powerful embrace… tensing until recognizing the soft body that so hugged him. "Ned, you made it."

"Dae," he replied, using the name he had coined for his new companion. "How are…" He was cut off with a kiss, to which Jon simply fell into. They had only begun kissing a few days ago, and Jon simply loved it. "I presume you are happy to see me."

"You presume correctly." Daella giggled, her eyes twinkling with mirth and… nervousness. Biting her lip, she played with his fingers. "Happy nameday."

"Umm…" Damn, it really was his nameday on the morrow. Three and ten, nigh a man. "You remembered when I didn't."

"I remember everything about you." She ran a hand along his arm. "And I have a surprise for you… I rented us a chamber for the evening." Daella pointed to the rooming house upstairs from the alley.

Blinking, suddenly Jon realized what she was saying. "Dae, I…"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh… come with me." She reached down, stroking Ghost's fur. "You too, buddy." Ghost licked her hand, a happy little pup.

Silently they climbed the stairs, Jon's heart pounding in his chest. What am I doing… she doesn't even know my name! But the door to the rented chamber was closed before Jon could voice himself. "Are you sure about this… I've never done this before."

"Neither have I… love." Love? His eyes widened. "But with you… I want to. You're the one I want, Ned, no matter if you have to leave soon."

"I don't know…"

"Please, don't overthink this." Hands clasping his cheeks, she took him in for a deep kiss before he could respond. The kiss felt wonderful, Daella's lips soft and her insistence inviting. She pressed against him, slim body fitting snugly and making him groan into the kiss. Jon's hands first hesitantly, then eagerly touched her sides, soon wandering all over her naked form. Instinct almost taking over, Daella yipped as Jon pushed her onto the bed, eyes roaming her nude body as she laid there. "Gods," she murmured, biting her lip as she ran one leg up the other in her best attempt at a sultry pose. "You better get to work, love."

"Aye." Eagerness seizing on him, Jon removed his clothes quicker than he could ever remember doing. Seeing her gasp at his body, Jon crawled atop Daella. Mouth laving at her tall and slender figure. Kissing and licking along creamy skin he had never before thought he could desire so hungrily. "You're good…" He sucked upon her breasts, suckling the nipples till they were raw and she was squirming for mercy. "I can't believe how much I want you," he husked, hand swiping through her core, shocked at how sopping it was. All for him.

Jon felt again that twinge of regret at being with Daella, of coupling with a girl who knew him by a false name. "Please," she whimpered. "I'm… ready. I want you… I need you inside me."

Inwardly, he calmed… she wanted the kind man she met, which was him without the royal titles - that was enough for Jon at the moment, lost in such a newfound lust and enamored with this Lysene vixen. At her words, he simply captured her lips again, mouths melding and tongues twisting in a sensual dance. Heart beating out of his chest as she grasped at his back and shoulders desperately, Jon slowed them down. Tender and sweet in his caresses as he figured she would like.

Undoubtedly they were awkward and he wasn't as fluid as his dreams imagined, but from her moans Jon was doing something right… it helped grow his confidence. Feel himself ready after time immemorial to consummate his…

"I need you… don't make me wait," she moaned, reaching down for his cock. It had grown hard since catching sight of her, but as Daella's fingers wrapped around the engorged member Jon let out a hiss. Gods, what a feeling. He gritted his teeth, feeling her guide his weeping head towards her womanhood. Rubbing against the wetness till the head began to poke inside…

The feeling was unlike any other. Jon trembled as the tip of his cock was engulfed by Daella's cunt. The walls clamping around him. Gods… I had no idea... The heat was intense, and he loved it. Kissing her again, he pressed forward, meeting some resistance. A split-second of annoyance pushed harder only for something to pop. Daella whimpered, but from pain rather than the pleasurable whimpers of before.

Suddenly he remembered. Jon heard from Rhaenys once that it hurt for girls, their first time. And he didn't think of that… "Dae…?" Preoccupied with the amazing feeling, her soft whimpers of pain broke his heart. "Should I stop?" he asked, concerned at her discomfort.

But Daella shook her head, wrapping her legs around his hips to trap him. "No… don't stop. It'll go away, I promise." Cupping his cheek, she kissed him. "Go slowly, please." He only nodded, resuming the kiss as slowly he rocked. It helped, for any faster would've caused him to spill - fuck, the pressure was intense.

It came on gently, her bunched eyes relaxing and her fisted hands opening. Clenching his muscles once more. The kiss never broke, Daella instead beginning to rock her hips. "You… good?" he ground out.

"Ned…" she purred into his mouth, using his name. "Kessa… do it. I want it hard, oh kessa."

Whatever restraint Jon had left him at her moans. The dragon urge to have this woman, to become a true man with someone that truly cared for him rearing back and roaring. He slipped his arms under her shoulders, resting on his elbows as he thrusted hard. Cock rising till it almost left her and then right back in.

Nothing did better to tell him his technique worked than her scream into his mouth. Muffled by their kiss but a loud one. Jon burst back for air but soon latched to her neck, sucking hard as Daella writhed underneath him. "Fuck! You're so good in me… oh Gods…" Soon she was unable to make a sound, merely gasping wordlessly as his cock tried its best to split her in two. If by instinct, Jon knew exactly how to couple with her - with a woman, a Targaryen man to the end in spite of his coloring. "Oh gods!"

The force of a thousand dragons built through him, cock twitching within her wet walls from the pressure. Jon was sure he seeped inside of Daella, and began to lick behind her ear. Needing her to shatter with him. "I… close…"

"Inside me… please…" Grip tight and legs locked, there was no way Jon could leave even if he wanted to. Youthful lust won out and he listened, merely doubling down hitting her core over and over again.

He relished the moment, relished being with his first. Daella had only been his companion for mere weeks but she was beautiful and kind. A Valyrian beauty just as he'd grown used to his whole life. Her cherubic face, smooth skin, amethyst eyes, silver hair, soft moans, perky breasts, scorching cunt… No man could resist, not even a dragon. "Dae…"

"My love…" she warbled, cunt fluttering around him. Making Jon spill into her.

Tensing with pulses of seed, he collapsed onto her. Their bodies were pressed together, slick from sweat. Jon was about to retreat from her until Daella held him closer to her. "No," she whispered. "Stay." She cradled his head with her legs still wrapped around his waist. Fingers caressing his back. "Happy nameday."

He snorted. "A wonderful present." Jon kissed the hollow of her neck. "Dae, I…"

Before he could finish, Daella cut him off. "Don't… you were amazing." She kissed him. "I wouldn't have asked for anything different." Jon simply returned the kiss, glad that his first time was also amazing for her.

A memory he would always hold dear.