Laena Velaryon Targaryen (108 A.C. Seventh Moon)
Stepstones
The wind whipped through her hair as she soared above the Narrow Sea, having made a brief stop at Storm's End to visit her uncle, whom she hadn't seen in far too long. Boros, her cousin, had returned from the war, and together, they shared harrowing tales of the siege of Little Tyrosh. Aemon's bravery in rescuing her little brother stood out vividly against the backdrop of their conversation. It seemed the reality of war was far more perilous than the sanitized versions conveyed in the letters sent to High Tide.
As she neared her reunion with Aemon, her heart fluttered with warmth and anticipation. Even Vhagar, her dragon companion, seemed to sense her excitement. Vhagar's mood remarkedly improved as they approached their destination. The first isles of the Narrow Sea came into view, its barren wind-shaped landscape offering little refuge save for the stronghold of the Crabfeeder to the East.
An hour later, the Isle of Little Tyrosh emerged beneath them, its skyline dominated by the unmistakable silhouette of Balerion, the black behemoth of a dragon. She couldn't help but marvel at the creature's immense size, wondering if it had grown even larger since her last encounter. As Balerion drew nearer, emitting a joyful shriek, Vhagar responded in kind, the reunion of mates echoing the anticipation thrumming within her own heart.
"Aemon!" she cried out as she spotted him perched atop Balerion's formidable back. "Laena, my love, you're a welcome sight," he replied, his voice carrying across the expanse between them.
After landing in the city's main square, they were met with awe from the onlookers, who marveled at the sight of two dragonlords of Old Valyria gracing their midst. It wasn't wrong; Vhagar was most likely the second-largest being in the world right now after Balerion. Little Tyrosh now held two of them. Her thoughts were broken when she was enveloped in Aemon's embrace, his eagerness palpable as he kissed her with a fervor she had sorely missed.
"I've missed you, Laena," Aemon confessed, his words tinged with longing. "The campaign has been lonely without you and Rhaenyra at my side." Their hunger for each other was evident as they shared another passionate kiss, their desire reignited by the proximity of their reunion.
As they made their way towards their quarters in the Citadel, Balerion and Vhagar took to the skies, seeking their own private respite. "I suppose they desire some privacy as well. I suppose Vhagar will be returning with your stuff," Aemon remarked, casting a glance toward the soaring dragons. "And so do we," she replied with a coy smile, her hand entwined with his as they ascended the stairs.
"But first, I suspect your father and brother will want a word," Aemon said as he led her upstairs into the halls of the Citadel of Little Tyrosh. After a short walk, they arrived in the war room, where her father sat in a chair, looking at the maps of the Stepstones.
"Ah, daughter, you're a welcome sight," her father said as he rose and hugged her. "I hope the flight wasn't too rough?"
"No, father, all was well. Vhagar carried me more than fine on her back," she said with a smile.
"Well, I had my reservations, but now they are gone. A year later, and you've grown into a strong woman. It reminds me a lot of your mother at that age. A strong dragon rider with a steadfast heart. Your brother has the same," he exclaimed as he held her hand.
"Yes, although I think we will soon see what kind of metal my wife is made of. Where is Laenor? I thought he was here too, planning the blockade?" Aemon said, looking at her father.
"He is with my brother. He will join him on the eastern line, and they are inspecting the ship they will sail on. Had he known you were coming, he would have stayed, but I guess with Vhagar's arrival, he will show his head soon enough," her father answered.
"Well, I'll see my brother soon enough. I will now have things brought to my husband's quarters. Tell Laenor to meet us there. I suppose later today we shall discuss the intrigues of the campaign," she said, and both Aemon and her father nodded. Aemon took her by the arm and led her to his quarters.
"Spacious enough," She said as she inspected the lightly decorated room with some skins of elk and deer and a tapestry of Aegon the Conqueror on the Field of Fire. It was something he always had in rooms where Aemon stayed. The other thing was an armor stand with his Valyrian steel armor and a Valyrian Steel statue of a dragon-wolf. The rest was either normal things or parts needed for the war.
"Yes, I felt quite at home here. It feels more like a place our ancestors have built. King's Landing never did that for me; it felt too Andal with the seven-pointed star of the southern architecture. Dragonstone, Winterfell, and Sea Dragon Point are home for me. This city also feels like Valyria, and it is indeed a shoot of Tyrosh," Aemon said as he walked to a corner of the room.
"Well, this is the legacy that Valyria has given us." Aemon showed her an egg caldron. In it was an egg of black and bronze. "The egg of Vhagar and Balerion, no?"
"Yes, it is. It is warm and alive. The others of the clutch I have hatched in Seadragon Point. One was with Baelon when he died, and the other is still in Seadragon Point," Aemon said as he put his hand over the egg. It was a rare trait Aemon had, being able to handle heat differently; some Targaryens resisted it.
"There is more I found out over the years, but this war has put a hold on it. Soon, hopefully, in a year, it will be over, and the work can start again." "Well, I hope you still will have time for us," she said as she moved closer to him. "Yes, always for the people I love," he held her and kissed her again." Well, I hold you to that." "I shall, what man wouldn't?" Aemon said as he kissed her forehead.
"Sister, welcome to Little Tyrosh; it seems my brother has satisfied you thus far?" Laenor walked in, breaking the peace between them. "Good to see you, little brother," she said, embracing Laenor, who smelled like dye and sea salt. "Not so little anymore; I'm taller than you now, sister." Her brother said as he looked her up and down.
"Laenor has grown, although I don't think he has in mind," Aemon teased, causing Laenor to scowl in his direction. "Sister, don't take anything from him; he charged the holdings on The Skulls in front lines. The men speaks of how he slew a hundred men in combat," Laenor said with a smirk.
"What!! Why were you not on Balerion, idiot!" She exclaimed as Aemon's face darkened, and he looked sternly at Laenor.
"Well, I let my men. The dragon wasn't able to take it, so I led my men. A man who doesn't lead by example isn't one to follow. Laenor, you haven't killed anyone by your own hands. Burning people on top of a dragon is easy. In close combat, you are in the thick of things. It is a moment of life and death. You killed your opponent, disarmed them, or killed yourself. So don't speak about it if you know. Don't ever joke about war and death." Aemon's tone had switched; it had turned into a lesson for her brother and even her. Aemon talked with authority, and the voice he spoke with wasn't to be questioned.
"Sorry, brother, I spoke without thought. I have seen what you have done here and at Sea Dragon Point. I ask for forgiveness," Laenor looked at Aemon, who nodded.
"You are forgiven. Remember the words, never take a life lightly." Her brother nodded.
"Good, now, as my page and squire, I suppose you have duties of bringing in your sister's belongings. If Balerion and Vhagar have returned. You can relieve Bennard from that duty; consider it punishment. Send him toward the war room, as he will be serving me there," Laenor nodded and hurried out of the room.
"You were stern with him," she said after a moment after Laenor left.
"Well, in war and death, you must. It isn't something you joke about or think easily of. You have to respect it. Anyone who doesn't isn't worth following," Aemon said after he sat down in a chair in front of his desk. She joined him, and he looked tired as she looked at him more. The war had taken a toll on him. She hoped she could relieve some of it.
"True enough, I learned a lesson as well. I respect you more for it, and it makes me wonder what kind of father you will be," she said with a smile as she took his hands." Well, I hope I will be a good one and you a wonderful mother," he said with a smile.
"Well, I hope so. I have seen Alicent with her child, and she seemed to have fallen completely for her son. I hope I have the same with my own one day or daughter; both are welcome." She said with hope burning in her heart for a promising future.
"Yes, both are more than welcome. I give as many as you wish for, Laena," Aemon's words swelled her heart with happiness. "What if I want to have twenty babes?" "Then your wish is my command," he said with a genuine smile.
"Come, we shall discuss the blockade and your duties," Aemon added as he stood up and held out his hand for her to take. "Duties?" she said, with mock surprise. "Well, you are part of the force now, Laena. You will be treated like any other soldier under my command," he said with a smile.
"Hopefully, I can treat you quite well in the future." She whispered into his ear. As she walked out of the room.
Aemon Targaryen (108 A.C. Seventh Moon)
Little Tyrosh – Citadel main hall.
The feast welcoming Laena to the campaign was a welcome respite from the constant thought of war. Yet having her in his arms again was something he didn't expect he needed this much, and she looked as beautiful as she was when he had left her and Rhaenyra.
"Aemon, this Tyroshi cuisine is very appetizing." True, it was the Tyroshi who made good food. "This piece of meat is delicious," Laena said, and he smirked as he saw where she pointed. It was the snail from which Little Tyrosh got its dye form. "Well, that's what makes Tyrosh so rich in its dye." She frowned at his answer as he looked at Corlys, who smirked. "No? Please tell me this isn't what I think it is now." Laena's face seemed to lose some color. "Yes, sister, it's what you are eating. It is a snail. Though they're quite large, you wouldn't suspect it. They have done quite well with making it into a wonderful meal," Laenor quipped toward her. Bennard himself was already laughing, as did the rest of the gathered party.
"Damn, you all, why did it have to be snails." Saying it seemed to make her shudder. "Well, you liked it, didn't you? And I can't fault you; the snail meat is quite tasty." He added.
"Well, I'll leave you all to it then. I'd rather stick with fish or other meats if I can help it from now on," Laena said with another shudder.
"A pity, princess. I find these snails they catch delicious and are certainly getting exported to White Harbor. It certainly fits with the sea-heavy food choices we serve at the New Castle," Lord Desmond announced.
"I can't fault you, my lord. These snails shall join our food choices as well. Perhaps it is something that can even be acquired for our own food sources for our people if we can harvest them on our coasts. They are rich in fat and salt, both things anyone should need." He had thought of it before that the snails fished out of the sea, and the shell was used for the dye and the meat. Why waste it when it could be turned into a food source? It certainly was an opportune by-product of the dye.
"Well, you have your fill of the meat, husband. As for me, I'd rather abstain from eating it." "Whatever you wish for, Laena is my desire to fulfill. I'm curious if Rhaenyra would like them," he said as he held her hand. The rest of the feast was much of the same, dancing and singing. At the hour of the wolf, he and Laena retired to their chamber; there was an air of anticipation. He hadn't been with her since they parted. Having her here again felt a bit foreign. Yet it felt more than right as they walked into the room, and the door closed behind them.
Laena steps in front of the window; the moon captures her form. As he looked at her now, you would think she was a goddess. Laena Velaryon, with her silver curling hair and pale skin, was that and nothing less. "What is it?" She asked when she saw him looking. "Nothing, just my beautiful wife," he said as he walked toward her, grabbing her at her waist and kissing her. Their tongues danced as she was more than willing to return the kiss. "I missed you, Laena," he said after they broke off the kiss.
"Aemon, you are in similar company. It's cruel, you know, having your husband leave so soon after being wedded. Not even a babe to occupy me," she said as she kissed him, and he returned it hungrily. His arm explored her body, and as he kissed her neck and ears, everywhere he could kiss her, he got the response he wanted, with little moans escaping his wife's pretty lips.
"Aemon, I need you to be inside me," she said huskily. It stirred something inside him. His cock grew harder at her words. He was quick as he removed her gown, leaving her bare but in her smallclothes. He moved close to her again, kissed her down her body, and when he arrived at her smallclothes, he removed them, kissing her inside her tightness, slowly moving up.
He arrived where he wanted to be, and he dived in as he feasted on her cunt. His tongue and fingers made work of the folds of her cunt, and the nub that he knew brought a woman much excitement. "Aemon!" Laena moaned as he continued. Her hands had nestled themselves inside his hair, tugging lightly with every stroke of tongue and hand.
Slowly but surely, he felt her breath become ragged as she approached her climax. "By the gods, Aemon!" Laena moaned, and as she climaxed, the muscles in her legs and cunt tightened. He continued his work as she moved through her climax. After tasting her, he moved himself up, kissing her now sweat-covered body and stopping at her breast, worshipping each in turn. "Damn, Aemon," Laena panted as he pinched one nipple, giving a suck on the other.
After he kissed her hungrily, she removed his upper clothing, leaving him bare to the waist. She wasn't done as she moved her hands into his trousers and took hold of his cock, making him groan.
"My wife is still hungry, I see," he added hungrily as he stepped out of his trousers and smallclothes. He walked toward Laena and picked her up in a quick motion, making her yelp. As he carried her to the bed, he laid her down and then climbed on top of her. He kissed her, and his hand moved down to his cock, as he placed it against the top of her cunt. He growled as he made a slight thrust, coating his cock in her juices, making her tremble at the sensation, feeling herself all wet for him.
"Laena, are you ready?" he asked as he positioned his cock against her entrance. "I have been ready for the moment you returned from the North. I love you, and I trust you more than anyone else in this world," he kissed her deeply. As he pushed the tip of his cock against her cunt, he growled as he slowly pushed through her maidenhead; it went easy. He felt Laena inside and out, her flesh against his. "Are you all right?" he questioned as he looked at her, feeling his own urge to move as his cock felt extremely tight in her cunt.
"Yes, more than okay, you can move, make me yours, give me all of you," Laena murmured as she kissed him. 'She looked like a gift from the gods,' he thought. He didn't need a second word as he moved slowly, moving deeper, stretching her further, and slowly coming into rhythm with his movements.
"Laena," he moaned as he moved quicker. "Aemon," Laena murmured through the kisses. She helped as she closed her legs around his waist, as he devoured her, needing her. His movements became more ragged as he came close to finishing. "Laena," he growled as he finished and spent his seed inside her, thrusting a couple more times before collapsing on top of her.
"My wife," he murmured, kissing her again and tracing her face. "How are you?" he asked as he rolled off her and cradled her against him. "I feel wonderful, Aemon, and I feel empty now," Laena answered, snuggling toward him more. "Well, if you give me a few minutes, I can fill you again. If you aren't sore, that is; it happens sometimes with women," he kissed her and moved his hands through her hair. "Hmm, well, then I shall claim my husband in the morn," she said, with a smile. "Whatever you wish for and is in my power to give, I shall grant," he said as he kissed her again.
"I hold you to that, husband," she said before she closed her eyes and fell into a sleep beside him. He looked at her in his arms, his wife, and a thought came into his head as it had many times before. He thought back to Uncle Benjen's words. "You would if you knew what it meant." Now he knew; he had known before, but sharing this with Laena had brought it forward even more. 'You were right, uncle,' he thought back at his beloved uncle of years past.
He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Alicent Hightower (108 A.C. Eith Moon)
Kingslanding – Queen's chambers
It had been ten moons since the birth of her son. Aegon had grown, her little babe already crawling, and on the occasions babbling sounds out that sounded like words, she had enjoyed the time she spent with him. She held him now as she sat at the window, looking over the city. It was a time when she enjoyed being around Lyanna and Rhaenyra. It made her feel contented in the life she now had. Her peace was disturbed as one of her maids asked her a question.
"My Queen, the Hand requests entry." She nodded, and her father walked in, waving the maids away. "You have done well, daughter. It seems you have been quite taken with your son. As have the princess, Lyanna, and Rhaenyra. I didn't expect that, but I worry about your shared affection for Aemon." Her father said after he closed the door behind him.
'What did her father mean by that?' She wondered. "You think Aemon will let your child live if he ascended the throne? Or that your friendship with them will protect Aegon." Her father shook his head. "I suspected the moment you bore the King a son, he would replace Aemon as he hasn't done so far. It isn't supposed to be that way; a son goes before a brother and a daughter. The realm will not accept a third-born son as the heir to the Iron Throne." Her father said, but she wasn't sure. 'Aemon led men into war and made Sea Dragon Point a successful lordship.
"The lords of the realm swore obeisance to him, our own house among them," she argued, but her father spoke again. "That was before Aegon. He was the firstborn son of the King; to deny he was heir to the throne is against the laws of gods and men."
'What else did he want from her? She was already married to the King and had given birth to a son. She also knew Aemon would never kill his son, but her father didn't know the truth. She and Aemon were the only ones who knew. Their secret, the child together.' She thought helplessly.
"Don't you want your son to be king?" He asked. She sighed and said, "I wish mother wouldn't," causing her father to smile. "It would be best if you granted the King another son. Giving him one but two would most likely put the matter to rest. If not, a Targaryen Princeling is a fine bargaining chip. A chance to align the houses to our side. I don't suspect Visenya will be an asset, for whomever she shall marry will be aligned to Aemon's side." There it was, what she was to him, what she represented, as well as Aegon. Something to be used for advantage.
"I will not betroth my son or even unborn children when they aren't born yet." She said in anger, not wanting to think about it. Aegon wasn't even a year old, yet her father spoke of possible marriage alliances.
"It will happen, daughter. Just prepare for it. They won't stay children forever," he said and stood up, leaving her with Aegon.
Evening. (Waring, non-consensual sex sort-off)
She woke as there was a knock on the door. She sat up in her bed and spoke up, "Come." The maid bowed and spoke, "Pardon me, Your Grace. The King has requested your presence." She held in a sigh and kept her face unmoving as the maid spoke. 'Duty,' she thought. It was her life, and she would attend to it now.
"I shall attend to his Grace's wishes," she said dutifully, and the maid nodded. As she stepped out of her bed, she slipped into her sandals, and the maid put her nightgown around her. She walked silently to her husband's chambers, prepared for her duty.
The Kingsguard nodded and opened the door for her. She gave a nod to her maid, who then left. Walking into the room, she looked at his Valyrian City model, his hobby. It was all grand talk, nothing more, really. Aemon was actually doing it if his words and schematics of Seadragon Point could be believed.
"Ah, my dear wife," Viserys spoke up, startling her a little. "I did not mean to scare you." He took her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek, a wet kiss but an act of kindness. "Not to worry, husband, I was lost in my thoughts," she smiled sweetly toward him.
"Oh, that is something I can relate to on occasion," he said, paused, and led her toward the bed. She knew what was expected and walked with him, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm sorry for calling on you so late. I had lost track of time and wanted to see you," he said, embracing and kissing her. His tongue traced her lips, and she opened her mouth to let him in. It was a sloppy kiss.
His hands traced her back and hips and landed on her ass, which he squeezed. "Mmm, wonderful wife." He murmured after he broke the kiss. "Shall I remove your upper garments, husband?" she asked as he kissed her neck. "Yes," he said, and she proceeded to remove them, leaving him bare to the waist.
"Come," Viserys said, taking her hand to help her up onto the bed. She stepped out of her sandals and lay down on her back. He was quick in removing his trousers, climbed into the bed beside her, and started kissing her again.
He wasn't as attentive to her as Aemon had been. His hands traced her body as he fumbled with the shoulder parts of her gown. It slipped down, exposing her breasts, and he squeezed them. His touches stirred her passions but only caused her to long for better times.
She went down to his cock, and traced it, helping him prepare. Moans escaped his lips. She already dreaded what was to come next. "My wife," he murmured as he kissed her again, fumbling with her sleeping gown and pushing it up to her waist.
She braced herself as he spit on his cock and speared her with it. She felt the intrusion and had to stop herself from grimacing at it. His hands took hers as he thrust to increase his pace. His cock felt unwanted, as it always did, but it was her duty. She closed her eyes and thought of Aemon, his touches, and his cock inside her, making her moan.
She broke out of it as her husband sucked on one of her nipples. Her husband wasn't Aemon. Aemon was well-muscled with scars and his deep grey eyes in which you could lose yourself in. This man was heavy with ugly wounds oozing with pus. She smiled at him as he looked into her eyes after kissing her neck and moaned into it.
She held herself as her body was used by his movements inside her, fulfilling her duty to bear. "Mmm," he mumbled as he neared climax, his movements more ragged. It hurt more as he was not careful and held her more tightly. "Alicent," he grunted out, and as he climaxed, she felt his seed inside her as he collapsed on top of her. His weight half-crushing her. He kissed her again, and she returned it as was expected, and he rolled off her and asked. "That was wonderful, right?" he asked. She nodded at his question as he moved off her and went to sleep. She felt his seed dripping past her legs as she stared at the ceiling of the bedchamber. She looked at the painting she had seen plenty of times dancing dragons, spitting fire towards the sun.
Viserys Targaryen (108 A.C. Eith Moon)
Kingslanding – Viserys Chambers
He woke during the depth of night, his wife beside him. He cared for her, but she wasn't Aemma. Still, he found her caring and loving toward him. She helped him through his grief to forget the pain of his loss. He felt himself ready to go again, a need to be with his wife. He enjoyed this time with her. He smiled as he thought back to their previous session; she had moaned and kissed him, and she smiled at him. It made him feel young again, much like Aemma had done.
He moved towards her again, kissing her neck as he moved his hands over her body. "Husband?" Alicent murmured. She sounded tired, but her voice still stirred him on.
"You're so beautiful," he said as he kissed her neck. His hands traveled over her breasts, wondrous things they were, firm and full. "Wonderous," he mumbled as he took one of her hands and played with a nipple.
He was getting hard, and he wanted to take his wife again. He lifted his hands off her breasts as he lifted up her nightgown. His hand found her cunt, slipping a finger inside. It was still wet, and his wife moved as he touched her. "Husband," Alicent moaned with a hiss. He smirked as he moved closer to her and slipped his cock inside her cunt. He groaned at the wondrous feeling.
"Aahh," his wife moaned out, and he was lost after that, his cock moving inside her pretty cunt. It didn't take long before he was close to finishing. "Alicent," he moaned as he finished, thrusting his cock a couple of times more as he rode through his climax. "My wondrous wife," he mumbled, kissing her on the cheek. He lay back on his back, drifting off to sleep, thinking of this wondrous feeling of feeling young again.
(End Warning)
He was awoken by the sunlight, clothed himself, and kissed his sleeping wife on the cheek. He sat down near his Valyrian model and drank a cup of water when a knock at the door came. The door opened, and Ser Simon Darry walked into the room. "The Hand, Your Grace, he requests an audience." He waved his hand in approval.
"Your Grace, good morn," Otto said after he bowed. "What is it?" He asked. "It's your brother, Your Grace." "Aemon?" Otto shook his head. "Daemon has sent a raven from Runestone." Otto handed him his letter.
'Brother, My King,
As of the writing of this letter, it has been
seven moons since the birth of my heirs.' What, Daemon had actually sired a babe on Lady Rhae?
'My Bronze Bitch has given birth to two sons. The firstborn, Yobart Royce, shall inherit Runestone and the Royce name, and the other boy named after our father shall inherit my lands and the income that they may have. As of the writing of this letter, I request that dragon eggs be sent to the boys' cradles. Or a hatchling if there are any available. I suspect their arrival soon. Our cousin had the same privilege, and I suspect the same for my children.'
The Boys Yobart Royce and Baelon Targaryen were born on the twelfth moon on the twenth day in the year 107 A.C.
'I also request the honor of presenting them in court. I shall await your answer. I, however, have set off to go fight in Essos to earn glory for our house. I shall be receiving tribute for the service of the City of Pentos. So presenting them at court would take some time until matters in Essos are favorable.'
'Your brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, Heir to Iron Throne, Prince of Dragonstone, Lord of Runestone and the Rogue Fort.'
'He had named his son Baelon. Why not a different name? Had he always had to irritate him? Baelon, the name still stung, the boy that lived for three days, paid in the blood of his beloved Aemma.'
"Your Grace?" He must have wandered off in thought as Otto spoke to him softly. "My brother has fathered children." He murmured; the words sounded foreign to his mouth. "He what?" Otto looked like he had swallowed a lemon. "Excuse me, Your Grace, did you say he has sired children?" He nodded and handed him the letter. Otto frowned. "Well, it's something we both wanted, isn't it? He seemed to have listened to your request. About the dragon eggs, I can't say it is the best play. Dragons are dangerous weapons, given that who knows what he will do. As for his intrusion in the wars in Essos, it might cause unwanted problems for our efforts in the Stepstones. Yet we can't demand his return, as it would insult Pentos. One of the few free cities that fall on our side of the conflict in the Narrow Sea. He still hasn't accepted Aemon as your successor, as he still names himself the true heir." Otto said, his tone even. He made valid points, however.
He had to think about it all and make the right decision both for his family and the war in the Narrow Sea. He wasn't sure about that; it was a royal tradition. It would anger the Vale and House Royce if the children weren't given the privilege that was owed to them. It seems his brother would always be in trouble.
"I shall ponder on these matters. Tomorrow, we shall discuss this in the next Small Council." "Of course, taking some time to think on the matter is more prudent." Otto nodded and left the chamber.
He pondered still, 'Daemon, a father? It was a strange thought.'
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Well, here we are: Aemon and Laena have consummated their marriage.
Let me know what you think about the scene between Alicent and Viserys. Should I add warnings when a scene like that happens, or should I not?