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The Following 16 Chapters are available for Patrons.
Chapter 68 (Daenerys, The Dragon Princess), Chapter 69 (A Golden Flower), Chapter 70 (Tears of Direwolves), Chapter 71 (A Stark Without A Direwolf), Chapter 72 (A Princess's Night), Chapter 73 (A Direwolf's Blood), Chapter 74 (Morning and Rhaenys), Chapter 75 (A Song of Dragons), Chapter 76 (Leaving Harrenhal), Chapter 77 (The Horn of Winter), Chapter 78 (An Innocent Boy), Chapter 79 (The Faith of The Seven), Chapter 80 (A Dance in The Sky), Chapter 81 (Valar Morghulis), Chapter 82 (The Ancient Dragons), and Chapter 83 (The Past is Not Written) are already available for Patrons.
Oberyn Martell
As the meeting finally came to an end, Oberyn Martell felt a sense of restlessness creeping up on him. Without a moment's hesitation, he rose from his seat and trailed after his sister, Princess Elia, who was already making her way toward the exit. As he walked, he couldn't help but notice how the other lords were departing through the grand hall door, each with their own entourage in tow. Meanwhile, the royal family was making their way out through a separate door, guarded by their own set of loyal knights.
Oberyn spared a quick glance outside and caught sight of the dragon, who seemed to be in a hurry to take off, flapping its mighty wings and soaring into the sky. For a moment, Oberyn felt a twinge of relief that the dragon was finally gone, no longer posing a threat to their safety. However, that feeling was short-lived as he caught sight of his niece's hand firmly clasping that of Aemon's. A pang of worry shot through him as he wondered what could be going on between the two of them.
Oberyn, with a sense of urgency, hastened his steps through the dimly lit corridor, his eyes fixed on the royal family that was moving ahead of him. As he walked, a faint voice, barely audible, caught his attention - it was his beloved niece, Princess Rhaenys, who was asking Aemon about the dragon. Oberyn felt a rush of pride mixed with concern for his young niece, who was fascinated by the mythical creature. As he approached them, he noticed the gentle smile on Aemon's face, ready to answer Rhaenys's questions, but before he could, Oberyn made his presence known by clearing his throat, causing all heads to turn towards him, including the curious eyes of his niece.
As the Royal Family made their way through the corridor, the sound of their footsteps echoed off the marble floor. Suddenly, they came to a halt; they all turned to face the enigmatic Prince Oberyn. With a confident stride, he walked forward, his eyes scanning the faces of everyone in the corridor but lingering just a little longer on his sister's sweet smile as she held onto Rhaegar's arm.
Oberyn's gaze eventually landed on Prince Aemon. Oberyn tried to hide his frustration and put on a polite smile, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings. Oberyn couldn't help but feel a surge of anger and resentment. Sensing his former friend's discomfort, Ser Arthur stepped forward, positioning himself between Oberyn and the royal family.
"Is there anything you need, Prince Oberyn?" The prince couldn't help but notice the calculating look in the king's eyes as if he was anticipating something big. King Rhaegar knew what would happen as soon as the truth was revealed, for it had been 150 years since House Targaryen had last possessed such a powerful creature. The realization that the king's son was now a new prince, and one with a dragon no less, sent ripples of excitement throughout Westeros, with every house now paying attention to this young prince and his incredible beast.
Despite his initial impulse to unleash a barrage of insults towards the illegitimate son, Oberyn resisted the urge, realizing that it would only cause tension and discomfort for his beloved Rhaenys. He knew that his fiery temper and sharp tongue could be both a blessing and a curse, and this time, he chose to exercise restraint, opting instead for a subtle nod of acknowledgment toward the young man.
"I want to talk with my sister, your grace. It's important," Oberyn requested as respectfully as he could. Despite his respectful demeanor, Oberyn could not help but feel a sense of frustration at the Prince's reaction to his request. As Prince Aemon looked back at him with a ghost of a smirk on his face, Oberyn's gaze hardened, and he could feel a surge of annoyance building up inside him.
Elia's voice was laced with a hint of urgency as she spoke to Oberyn, "I know we have to talk, but first, I want to introduce you to Aemon." She flashed a bright smile and motioned for Prince Aemon to walk forward with a sense of grace behind him. Aemon, although slightly shorter than Oberyn, exuded an air of confidence and didn't seem to mind Oberyn's piercing glare. As he approached, his piercing grey eyes locked onto Oberyn's face, and he extended a hand in greeting.
"Prince Oberyn, it's good to meet you again," Aemon said as he extended his hand towards Oberyn to shake his hand, his tone exuding warmth and familiarity. However, Oberyn's expression remained stoic as he approached Aemon, knowing all too well that the latter was merely putting on a facade of friendship for the sake of appearances. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he could feel the tension rising between them, a silent battle of wits and wills.
Oberyn raised an eyebrow in incredulity as he looked at Aemon with a sharp gaze, his lips slightly pursed in disbelief. "Again?" he questioned, his tone laced with a hint of confusion and a trace of annoyance. Despite his perplexed expression, Oberyn's eyes sparkled with interest, eager to know what was going on, as he tried to recall if he had ever met Prince Aemon before. As Aemon extended his hand in a gesture of goodwill, Oberyn's brow furrowed, and he hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with doubt and skepticism.
"In the Melee, Prince Oberyn. I remember we exchanged words after I defeated you," Aemon reminded Oberyn with a small smirk; Arthur and the other Kingsguards couldn't help but chuckle in amusement at the memory. However, the playful banter was not lost on Oberyn, who could feel his temper rising as Aemon made a mockery of him in front of the kingsguards. Despite his efforts to remain composed, Oberyn's blood began to boil with fury at the insinuation that he was anything less than a skilled warrior.
As Elia stood in the corridor, she could feel the tension building between her brother and Aemon. The silence was heavy, and she nervously shifted her gaze back and forth between them, hoping to diffuse the situation. Suddenly, Rhaegar snorted in amusement at Aemon's remark, causing a momentary break in the stillness. The air was charged with a sense of anticipation.
After a few seconds, Oberyn stepped forward and reached out to clap Aemon's extended hand in a show of camaraderie. His grip was a bit rough, and his snake-like grin suggested that he was hoping to make Aemon uncomfortable. However, Aemon didn't seem to care and simply smiled in return. "Ohhh, right. I remember now," Oberyn said, his words dripping with sarcasm. He tightened his grip on Aemon's hand, but the younger man didn't flinch. Instead, he held his ground, meeting Oberyn's gaze with a steely resolve.
Oberyn stood in front of Aemon with a sly smile that he tried to hide but failed to, as he suggested, "I wouldn't mind another fight. I wasn't at my best during the previous fight." His words hung in the air for a moment, causing the Kingsguards to grip the pommel of their swords in anticipation. Ser Arthur Dayne was glaring at Oberyn with a look that could kill, while Rhaegar Targaryen seemed ready to take a step forward and tell Oberyn to back off. Elia Martell looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and anger, and for a moment, it seemed as if she was going to slap him in the face.
Rhaella's sharp words cut through the air like a knife, her eyes fixed on Oberyn with a withering glare that could have frozen the sun. "I thought you wanted to talk with the Queen," she said, her tone laced with a hint of malice. "We are not interested in you trying to excuse your loss." Oberyn's eyes flickered away from Rhaella, his hand instinctively moving away from Aemon's grip as he turned his attention back to Elia. Despite the tense atmosphere, there was a sense of melancholy in his voice as he spoke. "I did not come here to make excuses. I-"
"We can talk, brother. Follow me," Elia commanded sternly, her eyes locking onto Oberyn's. The younger Martell sibling grunted in frustration, his mind racing with a mix of confusion, anxiety, and anger. He watched as everyone else in the corridor began to shuffle away, their conversations coming to an abrupt halt as they dispersed to their respective quarters. Oberyn's heart was pounding in his chest as he reluctantly trailed after Elia.
With a determined expression on her face, Elia turned to her brother and issued a firm command, "Follow me." Without a moment's hesitation, he obeyed her, falling into step behind her as they made their way through the twisting, dimly lit corridors of the castle. Aegon, who had initially hesitated, decided to tag along.
As they approached the grandiose Queen's quarters, Oberyn Martell walked with a sense of urgency and purpose.
The corridor walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the history of the Seven Kingdoms, and the floors were made of polished marble, reflecting the flickering light of the torches mounted on the walls. As they reached the door, Elia turned the ornate handle and opened it with a creak.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles casting flickering shadows on the furniture and walls. Without a word, Oberyn, his three eldest daughters, and the young prince Aegon made their way to the center of the room, their footsteps echoing against the polished wooden floor. Ser Lewyn Martell, Oberyn's uncle and a trusted member of the Kingsguard guard, closed the door behind them with a soft thud and took his place outside, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
As the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him, Oberyn's eyes blazed with fury as he whirled around to confront his sister, her nonchalant expression only fueling his already smoldering anger. He seethed with indignation, his muscles tensed, and his jaw clenched as he watched her casually reach for a nearby vase, its colorful patterns glinting in the flickering candlelight. Without a word, she smoothly lifted the vessel by its handle and deftly poured six generous goblets of the rich, ruby-red Dornish wine, her graceful movements belying the tension that hung thick in the air between them.
"Sister," he began, "how could you not tell me that Lyanna's bastard-" But before he could finish his sentence, Elia's anger boiled over, and she grabbed a nearby vase, smashing it down on the desk with a force that made the room shake. The sound of shattering pottery filled the air, and Oberyn recoiled in shock, realizing too late that he had used the wrong word. He clamped his mouth shut, feeling a pang of regret for upsetting his sister but also a sense of curiosity that only grew stronger in the wake of her outburst.
Elia's voice dripped with an icy warning as she fixed her brother with a withering glare. "Watch your tone, Oberyn," she cautioned, her tone low and menacing. "Say that word again, and I will banish you from this side of Westeros. You can happily return to your beloved brothels in Dorne, but you will never see me again." The threat hung in the air like a heavy fog, and Oberyn knew better than to push his sister any further. He closed his mouth firmly, feeling the weight of her words like a physical blow. He was treading on dangerous waters, he realized, and he needed to be careful with every word he spoke from now on. Despite his irritation at being reprimanded by his younger sister, he knew that Elia was not to be underestimated; her deadly glare was enough to make even the bravest of men quake in their boots.
Seeing that her father was backing away, Without a second thought, she took a confident step forward and spoke up, her voice ringing clear and true in the tense silence. "Aunt Elia, Father has a right to be worried," she said firmly, her eyes locked on her aunt's. "Prince Aemon has a dragon - a powerful weapon that could be used against us all. He should give it to Aegon. He's the crown prince, after all." Nymeria's words seemed to hang in the air momentarily, her heart thumping in her chest as she waited for her aunt's response. But to her surprise, it was Aegon who spoke up next, his voice smooth and confident as he walked up to the desk and picked up a goblet of wine.
Aegon swiftly interjected, his tone firm and resolute, "That's not how that works." Acting quickly before his mother could unleash a torrent of insults at Nym, Aegon deftly reached for a goblet of wine and took a small sip, his eyes fixed on Nym's face. Without missing a beat, he turned around to face the rest of the guests, his gaze shifting from one person to the next, taking in their expressions and reactions. As he lifted the goblet to his lips once again, he deliberately held Nym's gaze over the rim, his eyes glinting.
"Once a Dragon chooses their rider, that bond cannot be changed. The dragon won't simply change riders because his current rider wants to. If I approached Aegarax, I would likely become his delicious meal." Aegon explained; as he spoke, Aegon placed his goblet down and perched on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs and resting his hands on the polished wood. He looked at his uncle, who had yet to speak, and wondered if he understood the gravity of what he was saying.
As Aegon stood in the chamber, his gaze shifted to the closed window as he noticed that the day was coming to an end. The sky outside was painted with beautiful hues of red and orange as the sun sank lower and lower, casting a warm, fiery glow across the horizon. The same vibrant light poured into the room through the glass, illuminating every corner of the chamber and casting an ethereal, almost surreal ambiance.
When they had left the hall, Aegon had asked his brother what the dragon's name was; Aegarax was a beautiful name. Aegon couldn't help but think there could have been a better name for the dragon. He would have named the dragon Gaelithox after the god of Stars and Fire.
"Aegon," Nymeria's footsteps were light as she made her way towards Aegon, her eyes fixed on the young prince with a gentle smile. The sound of her voice was both serious and soft as she called out his name, her tone expressing concern for his well-being. Her approach was measured and deliberate, as though she were treading on delicate ground.
"Your uncle is concerned for you." With a gentle hand on his shoulder, she spoke to him in a soothing voice. Nymeria's father, who had been standing nearby, nodded his agreement with her words.
Aegon took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp air and feeling it fill his lungs. As he exhaled, he reached for the goblet of wine that he had placed on the table, savoring the rich aroma as he brought it to his lips. The liquid was warm and velvety, slipping down his throat and settling in his stomach, easing the tension that had been building there. With each sip, Aegon felt his mind grow clearer and more focused.
Aegon calmly responded, "I understand your concern, but you have no reason to worry. Aemon claimed his dragon two months ago, and if he truly posed a threat, he could have claimed half of Westeros by now. His dragon is not only powerful but also old enough to withstand scorpion bolts that would pierce through the scales of any other dragon. His dragon is practically unstoppable." However, even as he spoke, Aegon couldn't help but feel that his reasoning was inadequate. He had only known his brother for a mere two weeks, and he knew that it wasn't enough time to understand his brother's intentions or true capabilities. Despite this, Aegon remained resolute in his belief that Aemon was not a threat and that his uncle should focus their attention elsewhere.
His brother had married a wildling, and he has never shown any signs of being a power-hungry man like Maegor Targaryen, Daemon Blackfyre, and many others throughout the History of Westeros.
With his eyes fixed on his nephew, Oberyn Martell took a calculated step forward, his mind racing with the weight of his family's safety resting on his shoulders. At that moment, he couldn't help but interject into the conversation, his voice dripping with the conviction of a man who knew the consequences of inaction all too well. "It doesn't matter whether or not he's a threat," Oberyn began, his words laced with a sense of urgency. "If he has a Dragon, he will earn a reputation that will make him a force to be reckoned with. And mark my words, there are many lords out there who would much rather choose the dragon rider as their King." Despite the sharp glare from his sister Elia, Oberyn stood firm in his resolve, knowing that his family's safety was at stake. It pained him to see his sister looking at him with such disdain, but he knew that he must do everything in his power to ensure their wellbeing, even if it meant sacrificing his relationship with Elia.
Aegon leaned forward from the desk, his eyes fixed firmly on his uncle Oberyn, as he called out with a sense of confidence and determination, "Uncle Oberyn." His uncle raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his nephew's tone. Aegon continued, "I am going to marry Lady Margaery. That gives me Highgarden, and I assure you that Stannis, a man of honor and law, would never choose my brother over me. Moreover, Jon Arryn, the hand of the king and ruler of the Vale, is on our side. Northern lords don't seem to favor Aemon much due to Lord Stark's punishment. The Riverlands are also on the brink of civil war amongst each other, and Tywin is the only one who would support Aemon if he desires to claim my throne. But I know my brother well, and I can confidently say he's no Aegon II, despite having the dragon. If he were, he would have tried to ensure that Lord Stark stayed in Winterfell, and as a result, he would have had the Northern army on his hands. But he didn't, and that, to me, speaks volumes." Even though Aegon spoke with confidence, his uncle still looked skeptical, and Aegon knew that it would take more than words to convince him otherwise.
Aegon understood where his uncle was coming from; his brother currently was the most powerful man in Westeros, and he needed to say one simple word to have everyone bend the knee to him, but Aegon knew Aemon wasn't like that; there were many opportunities where he could have shown his true colors, but he never did.
"Oberyn," she began, her eyes fixed firmly on his own, "Aemon is here to stay, and I don't want you threatening him ever again." Oberyn knew exactly what she was referring to. Elia was not one to be trifled with, and her tone left no room for arguments. With a frustrated groan, Oberyn ran his hands through his hair and paced back and forth across the room. He knew better than to cross his sister, but the thought of that "Bastard" living near his family was enough to make his blood boil. Still, he would do as Elia asked - for now, at least.
As Obara and Tyene stood by their father's side, they could sense the palpable tension emanating from him, clearly indicating that he was grappling with a critical decision.
It was then that Obara, with her unwavering resolve and unwavering loyalty to her family, stepped forward and made a bold suggestion. "Have Prince Aemon marry Arianne," she proposed in a calm and measured tone. "He will live in Dorne as her lord, and their children will be of House Martell." Though her voice was steady, there was a hint of resentment in her words, a remnant of the bitterness she still harbored towards Prince Aemon for defeating her father in the Melee. Despite her lingering animosity towards the Prince, Obara knew that this alliance was necessary for the survival and prosperity of House Martell.
Aegon's chuckle of amusement was not lost on Oberyn as he posed his question about the potential marriage between Aemon and Arianne. Aegon's response was quick and sharp, "Sure if you want Rhaenys to become a Kinslayer."
"Why Rhaenys?" Oberyn asked, lifting his head with a sense of dread, he had seen the signs, but he hoped his niece hadn't already fallen for Aemon.
Aegon, with a mischievous smile on his lips, responded to his uncle, "Rhaenys has indeed found her 'golden knight,' just as you had promised her, Uncle." Though Aegon's uncle did not look amused by his nephew's words, the young prince couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that his sister had finally found someone who could match her fiery spirit. However, Aegon also knew that his brother had already been intimate with Rhaenys. While he didn't have any qualms with his sister's love life, he was acutely aware of the potential problems that could arise from such a relationship, particularly when it came to the strict dogmas of the Faith of the Seven.
Oberyn observed Aegon, who was holding a goblet of wine and had a sly smile on his face. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Oberyn asked, trying to mask his irritation.
Aegon didn't miss a beat. "Annoying you, uncle, is one of my favorite hobbies," he replied, still grinning from ear to ear. Oberyn couldn't help but laugh at his nephew's response. Despite the annoyance that he felt, he couldn't help but be entertained by Aegon's playful banter.
Aegon hoped his brother wouldn't think of marrying anyone besides Rhaenys; Aegon didn't want any conflict with the Seven just because his brother couldn't keep his pants up.
"If Rhaenys marries Aemon, their children will be Dragonriders; Rhaenys's children will marry Aegon's children in the future," Elia quickly reasoned, hoping her brother would no longer feel any distrust towards Aemon.
Oberyn wanted to point out that the bastard could still get Aegon killed and secure his place as the Crown Prince, that Aegon was not safe as long as Aemon existed.
Oberyn weighed the pros and cons of marrying the Bastard Prince to Rhaenys. He saw the potential for peace, but he also knew that such a move required careful consideration and consultation with his older brother, Doran. As he mulled over the possibilities, Oberyn felt a nagging sense of uncertainty gnawing at him, and he knew he needed to speak with Doran before making any rash decisions.
He trusted his brother implicitly and valued his counsel above all others. Thus, when Rhaenys's name was raised once more, Oberyn hesitated briefly before agreeing to consult with Doran first. "He will know what to do," he murmured to himself, his mind already racing with the possibilities. "...Fine." Oberyn reluctantly accepted. Elia watched him closely. When he finally relented and dropped the subject, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Elia walked up to her brother Oberyn, her regal demeanor commanding attention as she spoke firmly but calmly. "Dear brother, I hope you can control your temper this evening. I implore you to keep your tongue in check and refrain from any unnecessary insults or jabs towards him." Oberyn's annoyance was palpable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes glinting with frustration at being spoken to like a child throwing a tantrum. Nonetheless, Elia's words seemed to have an effect on him, and he nodded curtly in response before striding away, his mind already racing with potential comebacks and witty retorts that he would have to suppress for the sake of the evening's tranquility.
"...Yes, your grace. My lips are sealed." Oberyn quipped, his tone laced with a biting sarcasm that was unmistakable, as he bowed his head in a playful manner. His sister, the regal and formidable figure she was, rolled her eyes in exasperation at her younger sibling's antics before sweeping past him with the grace and poise befitting of her royal status. She motioned for everyone to follow her out of the room.
But just as they were about to leave, Nymeria suddenly spoke up, stopping them in their tracks. "You all go," she said, her voice commanding and authoritative. "I need to talk with Aegon."
Elia's eyes wandered towards her niece, Nymeria, who had been standing in the corner of the room with Aegon. Elia had always suspected that there was something brewing between the two of them, but she had never found any concrete evidence to support her intuition. She shifted her gaze back and forth between her son and Nymeria, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her. Elia's curiosity was piqued, and she couldn't help but wonder what they were discussing privately. As she opened her mouth to inquire about their conversation, her son cleared his throat, causing her to pause mid-sentence.
"Mother, I only need to discuss something with Nymeria. You can go," Aegon said reassuringly. Despite his best efforts, the queen didn't look convinced, and her eyes darted from Aegon to Nymeria and back again, searching for any sign of deceit. Oberyn, who had been watching the exchange carefully, quickly motioned to her to simply give them a bit of space.
Once Elia and the others walked outside, Ser Lewyn Martell turned to look at the Queen and Oberyn. With a polite bow, he inquired, "Your grace, is everything alright?" His gaze shifted back and forth between the two, his concern evident in his tone. Elia smiled warmly at her uncle, grateful for his watchful eye and loyal service.
Elia let out a soft sigh of relief as she watched her uncle's troubled expression ease upon hearing her reassuring words. She could see the worry lines on his forehead smoothening out as she continued to speak in a calm and soothing voice. "Everything is alright, uncle," she repeated, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Oberyn is just being his usual self, always trying to stir up trouble," she added with a small chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.
As Elia spoke, Oberyn grunted loudly in protest, clearly unimpressed by her attempts to calm their uncle. He turned his attention away from Elia and fixed his gaze on his uncle, his eyes narrowed and his tone sharp. "Did you know anything about Prince Aemon?" he demanded, his words laced with suspicion. Despite Oberyn's poor attempt at intimidation, their uncle remained unfazed. He simply shook his head, his expression calm and collected.
"I did," Lewyn answered bluntly, without bothering to try and hide it. His tone was firm and resolute as if he had nothing to hide.
The air was filled with tension as his nephew, Oberyn, looked at him with a mix of shock and anger. It was clear that Lewyn's revelation had taken him by surprise. As Oberyn questioned him with a slightly higher voice, moving closer toward his uncle, the latter glared at him for talking to him like that.
Lewyn knew that his nephew was not happy with what he had just revealed, but he didn't care. He had always been a straight shooter, and he wasn't about to change that now. The room was silent for a moment as both men stood there, staring at each other. Then, Oberyn spoke again; his voice filled with frustration. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, his eyes fixed on Lewyn's face.
Lewyn sighed heavily, knowing that this conversation was not going to be an easy one. But he was determined to be honest, no matter how difficult it might be. "I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't like it," he said, his voice steady.
Oberyn's expression grew angrier. "But why?" he asked, his voice slightly higher.
"Watch your tone, boy. I have killed men when you were just a worthless seed in your mother's womb," he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at Oberyn. Despite the fact that they were related, Lewyn was first and foremost a Kingsguard, and he would not tolerate any disrespect. Oberyn hesitated for a moment, almost as if he wanted to lash out at his uncle, but he thought better of it.
The young boy reluctantly backed away from Lewyn, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and frustration. He knew that his uncle was right, but he didn't want to admit it. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away hastily, refusing to look at anyone.
Aemon Targaryen
He had been expecting them to inquire about the dragon, but as soon as they entered, it was clear they had other intentions. Without warning, Rhaenys pressed him against the wall, her body flush against his, while Val began to slowly undress, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Despite his initial surprise, Aemon couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as the two women closed in on him, their laughter echoing through the room.
"I want you, Aemon," As Rhaenys stood before Aemon, she spoke with a voice that was low and husky, sending shivers down his spine and making his heart race with anticipation. The air between them was thick with desire and longing, and Aemon could feel the heat rising from his body as he gazed upon her. Without hesitation, Rhaenys closed the gap between them, kissing him with a fierce intensity that took his breath away. As Aemon's heart raced with desire, he acted on his impulses and swiftly wrapped his strong arms around the waist of Rhaenys, pulling her body tightly against his. Without hesitation, his hand skillfully maneuvered its way up the curve of her back until it reached the supple roundness of her breast. With a firm yet gentle touch, he cupped her through the fine fabric of her dress, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from Rhaenys that sent shivers down Aemon's spine.
As Val trailed behind Rhaenys, she couldn't help but notice the way Rhaenys's lips met with Aemon's in a passionate kiss. Val's eyes followed the two lovers as they lost themselves in the moment. Suddenly, Val's gaze landed on the exposed skin of Rhaenys's neck, and she felt a primal urge to nibble on it. As Val's teeth grazed Rhaenys's skin, Rhaenys let out a moan of pleasure, lost in the sensations of Aemon's tongue, exploring every inch of her mouth. Val could feel the heat rising between the three of them, a fiery passion that threatened to consume them all.
Later
As the night sky painted the world outside in shades of deep blue and midnight black, Aemon found himself lying on his bed, flanked by the two women he loved most in the world - Val on his left and Rhaenys on his right. The echoes of their passionate lovemaking still reverberated through the room, sending shivers down Aemon's spine even in the aftermath. The sheets were tangled around their naked bodies, the only cover they needed in the moment's warmth. At that moment, nothing mattered except for the three of them, their breathing the only sound that filled the room. It was as if time had stood still, frozen in the midst of their intimate bond, and they were the only people in the world.
After Aemon told Rhaenys everything about Aegarax, how he had found him, and everything else. Rhaenys couldn't help but feel a little betrayed that Aemon had already given their grandmother a ride with the dragon, but not her, but Rhaenys quickly shook those thoughts away; her eyes were drawn to the closed window. Her gaze lingered on the glass, and as her vision focused, she could see the world outside, already immersed in the embrace of the evening. The sun had long since slipped below the horizon, leaving in its wake a breathtaking sight of a fading red glow that painted the sky in a rich and vibrant hue. Beyond the window, the vast land stretched out, shrouded in the dimness of the approaching night, with the shadows of trees and towers gradually merging into one another.
As she lay her head against Aemon's chest, she suddenly questioned, "Aemon, can I have a ride with Aegarax tonight?" Her heart was racing with excitement at the thought of soaring through the sky on the back of a dragon. The mere idea of experiencing the wind rushing through her hair as she flew amongst the clouds was enough to send shivers down her spine.
She had always dreamed of flying, of feeling the freedom that came with being airborne, and the idea of doing so on the back of a dragon was almost too incredible to comprehend. But it wasn't just the idea of flying that made her request so urgent. It was flying with Aemon that made the prospect all the more exciting. Despite her excitement, she knew that flying on the back of a dragon was not the same as dreaming about it. It would be a thrilling and, at times, terrifying experience.
Aemon's voice was filled with warmth and affection as he responded to his sister's request, saying, "Of course, sweet sister." He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, a gesture that conveyed his love and loyalty to her. As he pulled back, his eyes met Rhaenys's, and he felt a swell of emotion in his chest. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, a soft and tender kiss that felt like a promise. Unknown to them, Daenerys was no longer in Harrenhal.
Daenerys Targaryen
As she stood in the dimly lit alleyway, cloaked in shadows. She made her way to the stables wearing a hoodie, where the horses were kept, and it didn't take her long to find the one she was looking for. She mounted the horse and rode it through the winding streets, careful not to draw attention to herself. Finally, she arrived at the imposing gates of Harrenhal, the ancient castle that had been the seat of power for centuries. She urged the horse forward, and with a mighty leap, they soared over the gates, landing gracefully on the other side. As she looked back, she saw the guards rushing toward her, but it was too late.
Daenerys Targaryen sat atop her majestic steed, her silver hair flowing in the wind as she rode away from Harrenhal. The sun had fully sunk behind the horizon, leaving behind a beautiful display of orange, pink, and purple hues that painted the sky.
As Dany rode her horse along the winding path, she was enveloped in a sense of peace and tranquility that she had not felt in a long time. The only sound that she could hear was the rhythmic thumping of her horse's hooves as they pounded against the soft earth below. In the distance, she could hear the river's gentle flow as it made its way toward the ocean, its melodic murmur acting as a balm for her troubled mind. As she continued her journey, the sound of owls hooting in the forest added to the calming atmosphere, their haunting calls echoing through the trees and filling her with a sense of wonder and awe.
As Dany rode towards the Trident, the sound of her horse's hooves echoed through the stillness of the night, breaking the silence of the surrounding forest. As she finally reached the edge of the vast lake, she halted her horse and gazed up at the sky, admiring the twinkling stars that seemed to be in perfect harmony with the peaceful ambiance of the surroundings.
The rustling of small creatures moving about in the undergrowth around her served as a reminder of the beauty and tranquility of the natural world. Dany dismounted her horse, her eyes scanning the area in search of her faithful dragon. However, as she looked around, she realized he was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, she craned her neck upwards, scanning the sky with the hope of catching a glimpse of her dragon's majestic form. But all she could see was darkness.
As Dany stood alone in the darkness of the night, she suddenly felt a gentle breeze brush past her, causing a cold shiver to run down her spine. Despite the darkness and the chill in the air, she continued to search for her dragon, looping around the area frantically as her heart raced with worry. The silence of the night was only interrupted by the sound of her own footsteps, which echoed eerily in the empty space around her.
Her heart started beating faster; Dany dreaded that perhaps something was wrong when she remembered the name Quaithe had given her.
As Dany stood beside the river, gazing up at the twinkling stars in the dark night sky, she bellowed the name "Cannibal" at the top of her lungs. Her voice reverberated through the empty expanse of the river and the surrounding land, the echoes bouncing off the trees and hills in the distance. For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence as Dany stood there, catching her breath and waiting for a response. Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder boomed overhead, despite the fact that there was not a single cloud in sight. The sound was so deafening it felt as though it had rattled her very bones.
Suddenly, the horse started whining and panicking, causing Dany to turn to face him with concern. She could feel the sweat on his coat, and his eyes were wild with fear. "Calm," she spoke with a calming voice, petting his head gently, but the horse let out a loud panicked voice before he started running away, leaving Dany alone with her thoughts. She watched as the horse ran further and further away, his silhouette shrinking into the distance.
A deafening roar echoed through the darkness. It was a large black dragon, its eyes glowing like embers in the night. Without any warning, it breathed fire, and a green inferno engulfed the horse, scorching its flesh and melting its bones. The horse died instantly, without even letting out a single scream of agony. The dragon was quick to grab the horse by its neck with its massive jaws, and with one swift motion, it swallowed the poor creature whole, leaving nothing behind but a trail of ash and smoke.
Dany gasped with astonishment as she saw a large black dragon descending from the sky. Despite feeling terrified and intimidated by the gigantic creature, Dany bravely stood her ground and didn't allow herself to back away. The dragon's wingspan was so wide that it almost blocked out the moon and stars, casting an ominous shadow over the ground below. As the dragon landed in front of her, the ground shook violently, causing Dany to stumble and almost fall.
However, she regained her balance and stood in awe as she gazed upon the magnificent beast. The moonlight reflected off the dragon's scales, creating a glittering and mesmerizing effect that left Dany completely mesmerized.
The dragon startled her as every animal, big or small, scampered away in a frenzy. The birds, who were perched on the treetops, took flight in unison, creating a symphony of flapping wings that echoed through the woods. However, amidst the chaos, her gaze fell upon the dragon who stood tall and proud, with emerald eyes that glimmered like Wildfire in the darkness.
Daenerys felt a warm, familiar breath on her body. As he leaned his massive head closer, Daenerys could feel the heat emanating from his nostrils, and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. Despite the darkness of the night, Dany could see the outline of his enormous body, illuminated by the moonlight. He was as large as a castle, with razor-sharp claws and majestic wings that spanned two ships' length.
As Dany looked at the fierce dragon before her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and amazement. With a bright smile on her face, she called out to him, using the name "Cannibal" that he had earned through his fearsome reputation.
The dragon, as if hearing his own name being called, raised his massive head up into the sky, his eyes shining with a mix of curiosity and recognition. As he gazed down at Dany, the dragon let out a deafening roar that echoed for miles around them, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet. The sound was so powerful that it seemed to shake the very air itself, filling the entire world with the dragon's raw power and strength. Despite the fear that might have overwhelmed a lesser person, Dany stood her ground, feeling the rush of excitement and adrenaline that came with being in the presence of such a magnificent creature.
As the moonlight illuminated the landscape, Cannibal lowered his head towards Dany, his sharp black scales glistening like diamonds in the night. With a curious glint in her eye, Dany tentatively reached out her hand, yearning to feel the prickly texture of Cannibal's scales against her fingertips.
"Gīda, Cannibal. Gīda (Calm, Cannibal. Calm)," Dany spoke out firmly towards the black dragon; The dragon's response was a low rumble that emanated from deep within his throat, a sound that sounded similar to a growl.
As Dany gazed at Cannibal, she felt her heart pounding in her chest, the rhythmic thumping growing louder and more frantic with each passing second. Her eyes widened in terror as the beast opened his gaping maw, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth and a fiery inferno brewing within. Daenerys could see the green flames building at the bottom of his throat, fueling the inferno that was about to be unleashed upon her. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead.
"Dohaeragon. Cannibal. Dohaeragon (Serve. Cannibal. Serve)," The words echoed through the air as Cannibal, with his piercing green eyes, observed her intently. At first, his mouth remained open, revealing his sharp teeth, but then he closed it as if pondering her request. Daenerys felt her heart racing, almost bursting from her chest, as she recalled the moment when Cannibal had almost burned her alive. Despite the fear that still lingered, she couldn't help but feel relieved as the dragon finally complied with her command.
Cannibal, the mighty dragon, crouched down on his powerful legs with his head lowered towards Daenerys as if beckoning her to climb upon his back. Daenerys, with a glint of excitement in her eyes, took a deep breath before carefully placing her hands on the dragon's rough scales and slowly climbing up. Her heart was racing with anticipation as she felt the warmth of Cannibal's body beneath her. As she reached the top, she let out a gasp of awe at the breathtaking view of the vast and endless sky above her. Cannibal, sensing her wonder, spread his massive wings, revealing an intricate pattern of scales and feathers that glimmered in the starry night sky.
Her fingers curled tightly around the dragon's rough scales as she surveyed the horizon. She knew that Cannibal was waiting for her command. With a fierce determination in her heart, Daenerys bellowed out her order, her voice echoing across the plains.
"Sōvegon (Fly)," she cried out, her grip on Cannibal's scales tightening. With a mighty roar, the dragon began to move. His massive feet thudded against the ground, each step sending shockwaves rippling through the earth. The ground cracked beneath him, unable to withstand the sheer force of his movement. Daenerys felt her heart race with excitement. She knew what was coming next. With a powerful beat of his wings, Cannibal leaped into the air, soaring up into the clouds. Daenerys felt the wind rushing past her, whipping her hair around her face.
Together, she and Cannibal rose higher and higher until they were soaring above the world. She looked down at the breathtaking view below her, feeling a sense of awe and wonder at the world's beauty beneath her feet.
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