It was an awe-inspiring sight. By the orders passed down from the highest echelons of the Targaryen small council, every single soldier in the army had assembled on the flood plain of the Dusken. Sunlight glinted off the sparkling river behind and the steel breastplates and helmets of the soldiers. Northern swordsmen, Dornish levies, Vale knights, Riverlander and Reach men-at-arms, Dothraki screamers, Free Folk warriors, Unsullied hoplites, all stood shock still. Waiting for something, anything. An event worthy of the spectacle.
At the van, guarded by the green dragon Rhaegal himself - men had taken to calling him the "King's Fury" after the Battle of the Dusken, in contrast to Drogon's "Black Dread Reborn" - were the men of the Westerlands. Bedecked in full armor plate and finery, but missing their weapons. A steely-eyed Grey Worm refusing to hand them over, while Lyle Crakehall only nodded in understanding. Perhaps after today the King would grant him his… if grudging… trust.
Atop a dias stood the Small Council - also in their finery rather than the utilitarian garb of battle and field living. Tyrion Lannister in his red-gold doublet. The Lady Missandei in a colorful dress in the style of King's Landing, if less flowery and more form-fitting. Varys, Master of Whisperers, in his customary silk robes. Howland Reed in his leather armor, standing as straight as he could. Davos Seaworth, Hand of the King, wearing simple but impeccable cotton. And Sansa Stark, in the dark gray battledress of the North. Fire-kissed red hair pulled back in a half-bun. They made for a powerful display… only bolstered by the massive dragon behind them.
And then he arrived. Dressed in exactly the same way as he had been arriving to the camp from Dragonstone. Longclaw - the lightbringer - clipped to his side, followed by his faithful direwolf. But Ghost wasn't all that accompanied the King. Right next to him was a glowing beauty. Silver hair styled into an unbroken braid, lithe form fit into armor of her own, dark and adorned with red-black plate and the Targaryen seal. She strode with purpose. With fire. With power.
King Aegon and Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. The Dragon monarchs.
One by one, the King and Queen greeted their small council. Affection and smiles for Davos and Missandei while Sansa and Varys merely got cursory nods. Icy ones. But the most insistent to greet the monarchs was Rhaegal. Head darting into the platform to reunite with his long-lost mother."
Snout lowered close to her, the mighty King's fury emitted a mewling sound. One more akin to a dog seeking the affection of its mother rather than the great beast that burned away thousands. Exhaling hot breath and nudging the tiny Valyrian beauty. Dany, for her part, fought back tears at meeting her gentlest son. "Oh, Rhaegal," she cooed, hugging his head. Muna is here."
Feet bringing him level with his dragon's eye, Jon stroked his brow, smiling softly. "She'd come back, boy. With your little brother and sister."
Another snort, eyes lighting up at the confirmation of what his nose could sense. Rhaegal nudged Daenerys again, this time gentle against her abdomen. "Yes, my darling. Your siblings are in there." An image of her son tucked in with her on Drogon and her daughter the same with Jon on Rhaegal brought her nothing but happiness. "I love you, my darling. I'm never going away." Green scales hot underneath her soothing touch, Rhaegal hooted softly - though such was still quite loud - feeling far more content than he had in months.
Turning to face the gathered army, Daenerys' eyes settled on the banners of the Westerlands. The boar of Crakehall, the fire tree of Ashmark, the seashells of Crag… and the lion of Casterly Rock. All banners that had been determined to kill her for years - that had kept her and her children locked up for months. Eyes darkening, Dany felt her rage build up…
Until Jon placed a hand on her shoulder. Letting the anger waft from her, until it was replaced by calm. By love.
Sensing all of this, Lyle Crakehall knew what he had to do. "Men! The rightful Queen is before us!" As they did for King Aegon, like a wave each of the thousands of Westermen fell to their bended knee. Swearing allegiance in perpetuity to Queen Daenerys.
"They will learn to see you as I do."
Jon's words from Eastwatch still affected her. Still kept Daenerys going through the darkest of times - where she struggled with the thought that fear would overcome love. Both were needed, but she wasn't about to become her father. There was no way Dany would let it happen.
Wordlessly, she stepped forward. Head held high. A true conqueror. A true dragon, just like her King.
"It should be you that does it, my love," Dany told him, the both of them cuddled close after a round of tender lovemaking. "You are the King."
Jon grinned softly, kissing her. "They've already seen me on Rhaegal. It needs to be you." He stared into her violet eyes, seeing the love and trust reflected in them. "The armies of Westeros must see you as their mighty Queen, not a foreign invader or weak captive."
She loved him so much, it threatened to consume her. "But what shall I say?"
"I don't know." His grin widened. "I'm not a bloody poet." Laughing with him, Dany had taken that moment to pounce on Jon with a flash of lust and desire.
Taking a deep breath, Daenerys readied herself. "Gathered armies of Westeros!" she thundered, voice booming like a dragon's roar across the plains. "To most I need no introduction, but to some that do not already know, I am Daenerys Targaryen. Daughter of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. Wife of Aegon Targaryen, and Queen of Westeros!
"I was not raised in this land, but it is my home. My birthplace, where I fought and bled alongside my beloved husband to protect it from death itself. To bring the dawn and usher in a new era of peace. From Dorne to the Wall. From Astapor to Lannisport, only with the aid of you did this succeed. Did we arrive on the cusp of the final victory, to build a new world better than the one you all knew for generations past.
"But there is one fight remaining. The form of Cersei Lannister, so-called Queen. Queen of what, I do not know? Of ashes, of starvation, of cold-blooded murder and destruction? Many before you fought for her. Fought for her family. I come here before you not to demand obedience, but to pledge my fealty to you. To all of you standing before us."
So used to tyrants, to authoritarian lords and ladies raping and plundering them all, the entire army stared in wonder. A monarch, someone as powerful as the Dragon King and Queen swearing fealty to them?!
"As Queen. As King, Aegon and I fight for you. Protect you, all of you. All the citizens of Westeros and beyond. And so I ask you. Do you fight with us? Fight with your King and Queen, with House Targaryen as free men? Ready to complete our fight and end the reign of tyrants like Cersei Lannister for good?!"
It started with the Free Folk. No one knew which one of them cheered the first - all of them viewed Jon as a sort of god after his resurrection and Dany the same after the Long Night. But soon it spread to all of them, and then across the entire waves of the assembled soldiers. Infecting all except the Westerlanders - who stood silent - and the Unsullied - who merely banged their spears against the ground as they had outside Astapor.
The noise drowned out even the roar of Rhaegal. "DRAGON KING! DRAGON QUEEN! DRAGON KING! DRAGON QUEEN! DRAGON KING! DRAGON QUEEN!"
A light snowfall was falling upon the copse of trees a mile out from the camp. While a weather disaster for the Crownlands, it didn't faze the two northerners standing together. Taking advantage of the moment alone to speak candidly. "I hate weddings."
Jon gave his sister a look of understanding. "Aye, I know." He placed his hand on her shoulder, glad when Sansa didn't shake it off. "I'm sorry."
She shivered underneath her dark grey dress, though not from the cold. "Don't be sorry, Jon. What happened happened." Sansa closed her eyes, sighing. "I wish that I could have stayed that stupid girl, carefree with her dreams of lords and knights in Winterfell, but at least something good came out of the shit. That I could be the strong woman my family needed in this time."
"Still. I am sorry."
You are the one person who has no apology in this - two people if you include your bride." They had some time before the first of Jon and Daenerys' advisors would be upon them for the small ceremony. While their masks were icy and dark, their hushed whispers were as warm as the subject of conversation could allow it to be. "You saved me from Ramsay, and defeated him. Even after I was such an ass to you."
"You're my blood. For my siblings, my children, and Daenerys, I'd do anything."
Sansa smiled softly at him. "For what it's worth, I'm happy for you, Jon. One person among our family should find some joy." He smiled back, grateful.
It was at that point the procession of advisors began into the clearing, feet scuffling on the light carpet of snow on the ground. Smiles falling, Sansa gave Jon an expressionless glare, curtseying. "Your Grace."
"Lady Stark," he replied. Straightening the blood red cloak of House Targaryen on his shoulders, clad in his armor underneath, Jon nodded to the septon who moved past him. An older man, gaunt but kind, he saw both he and Dany as close to messiahs as he would ever bear witness upon. Brought by the Seven to bring peace and prosperity to Westeros. His eyes scanned the few gathered advisors - watched over by Daenerys' bloodriders, Unsullied, and loyal Free Folk warriors - taking in their smiles…
And then he saw her - and his heart stopped.
Much the same reaction came from Daenerys. A hitch in her breath as she spotted Jon. Warmth flooded underneath her thick, form-fitting white dress. Snow sprinkling atop her black cloak. The very embodiment of Ice and Fire, Old Valyria and the True North - but her face was not of a Queen. Instead it was of a woman in love. Complete and total love for her handsome dragonwolf, smile bright and genuine as Ser Davos led her to the King.
Gods, she is breathtaking. Jon had to force himself to breathe, enchanted by the Valyrian goddess he was about to marry. Feeling her smile mirrored on his lips as she arrived so close to him. Able to see the sparkle in her violet eyes. Nothing and no one else mattered to Jon that moment, only her. Only Daenerys.
Clearing his throat, the old septon looked upon each of the monarchs before him. "Who comes before the gods tonight?"
"Daenerys of House Targaryen," Davos began, smile widening as he noticed the bride's eyes remained fully locked on the groom - and his on hers. "Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A woman of age and true of birth."
"Who gives her away?"
"Ser Davos Seaworth, Hand to the King and Queen."
"Who prepares to claim her?"
Nothing could dampen the joy Jon was feeling that night. "Aegon of House Targaryen, rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms." Reaching out his hand, Jon beamed as Dany disengaged from Davos to take his. While he had been looking forward to seeing her in a veil, Jon was delighted now that she had forgoed one - the King able to see into her deep violet eyes. Gaze upon her beautiful face and loving smile.
Daenerys fought to keep a regal demeanor - fought the urge to swoon from excitement and love. Jon. My Jon. My husband… husband… It was like a dream. "You may now cloak the bride," she heard the Septon drone, "and bring her under your protection." Turning, Dany shivered with desire as Jon's warm fingers brushed her bare neck, removing her black cloak. They were of the same House, so it felt redundant, but Jon followed the practice to the letter. Off went her Targaryen cloak, on came his, while Jon just threw her cloak around his own shoulders to snickers from their audience.
One little sign of defiance, of the authority of a dragon over all others. Truth be told, it set Daenerys alight as she turned to gaze upon Jon's grey eyes once more.
"My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."
Jon grabbed Dany's hand, holding the smooth digits tightly. Surging with power and energy from their connection. He felt her thumb gently caress his scarred palm, wanting so badly to kiss her. It was torture, being so close yet so far at the same time. How did I live without this goddess for so long? One of the mysteries of life, he supposed - squeezing her hand, hoping she understood the message. She squeezed back, telling him she did.
The septon slowly took the ribbon, tying it around their joined hands. Literally tying the knot that would seal their marriage. "Let it be known that Aegon of House Targaryen and Daenerys of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." Cursed with fire and blood. Everyone present knew both the bride and groom would burn the world with their dragons for each other. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."
Both of them couldn't help the flood of electricity at these words. It may have been official only now, but the truth was they had already been sealed and bound long ago. The pain each felt when either Daenerys or Jon tried to deny such only confirmed it. Now, they refused to deny it ever again, leaving only the purest of pleasure.
"Look upon each other and say the words."
The moment of truth. Turning at the septon's command, Daenerys was faced with the brilliant sparkles in Jon's grey eyes. Already forming a vibrant violet from the love and emotion swirling within him. Love comes in at the eyes. Her smile wider than ever before, Dany allowed his love to enter her. Bearing her heart and soul completely to this man. The feeling utterly amazing.
Jon and Daenerys spoke simultaneously. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger..."
"I am hers…"
"I am his…"
"And she is mine…"
"And he is mine…"
"From this day, until the end of my days." No truer words could ever be spoken. Nothing would ever sunder this marriage - one of the woman that emerged from a burning pyre with dragons and of the man who faced the shroud of death itself and emerged victorious. Be it received with delight or apprehension, no force on earth or heaven could ever tear Jon and Deaenerys apart.
Watching as she was practically giggling with love and devotion - a light in her eyes that he had never seen before but vowed to give her until his last breath - Jon began to recite the words he had longed to say since the beginning. "With this kiss, I pledge my love…" He had barely finished the last word when Daenerys threw her unbound hand around his neck and pulled him down, kissing him with all the passion of a dragon in love. Not complaining in the slightest, he did the same.
Davos clapped, as did Grey Worm. Tyrion raised his hand in a mock toast, while Missandei pumped her fists in the air. Tormund bellowed his approval with a loud whoop. Howland just beamed, hoping Ned, Rhaegar, and Lyanna were enjoying this moment from the great beyond. Even Sansa let a small smile slip as she clapped.
But one among the watchers couldn't even force himself to smile. Clapping politely, his ruddy eyes bore no joy. Just hope, hope that the next day would bring deliverance.
"Don't drop me," Dany whispered, arms looped around Jon's neck. "You wouldn't want the woman carrying your babes to fall."
Jon chuckled, kissing her on the lips. Teasing her with a swipe of his tongue. "Are you saying I'm not up to the task, my dragon?" Even full with their children, Jon hefted Daenerys bridal style in his arms effortlessly.
Daenerys already felt herself getting wet at the show of strength. "You are up for the task, husband." Husband. Dany was overjoyed at that simple fact. "Oh gods, I love you so. My husband, my King." There was no better feeling than being in her new husband's arms – well, after having him inside her. She grinned, aroused beyond belief. But Dany kept silent as Jon hefted her into the tent. Simply gazing at his handsome face.
"There we go." He set her down with a gentleness only seen with her. With others Jon was brooding, distant… utterly ruthless. But with her, Dany bore witness to the kindest and most loving man in existence. She felt so special, the lucky recipient of the greatest gift. "I love you too, my wife." A sad frown appeared on his face.
Distressed, Dany cupped his cheek. "Jon, what's wrong?" Why must this beautiful man suffer so.
"I'm sorry, Dany…" He looked away. "I wish it wasn't this way. All the war and violence and death. So much suffering, no peace. I can't even give the woman I love a safe home…"
"Hey, hey." Guiding his eyes back to hers, Daenerys embraced him. Softly kissing his chin. "I don't need anywhere to be home. You are my home, Aegon Targaryen." She let her head rest on his chest. "You make me feel safe."
Jon breathed in her calming scent, kissing the crown of her silver hair. Caressing the swell of their babes. "When Cersei is dead and the war is won, I'll take you to Dragonstone. Give you the calm and peace you deserve."
"Shhh, all I need is you, my dragon. All I need is you." Desperate for him, Dany greedily pressed her lips against hers. The kiss grew heate, the inner dragon woken inside them both. "Gods Aegon," she growled against his lips. "Fuck your wife. Don't make me wait any longer."
Growling, Jon pushed her backwards towards their camp bed. Hands roaming across her delicious curves. Making her growl back. Lust beginning to consume them. "Mine, Daenerys." Her legs hit the side of the bed. "Belong to me."
"Yes…" she gasped, his teeth and tongue blazing down her neck. "Yours, nephew. All yours."
Only months before, the reference to shared blood would have driven him away, but the dragon blood hot in his veins only ignited a further fire within Jon. Grabbing her breasts through the dress. Mauling them as he kissed her savagely. Felt her hands dig into his back - pulling at his gorget and leathers.
Dany needed him. She needed to feel him. Nimble fingers working around hooks and yanking at laces. Mewling happily against his tongue when his bare skin came into contact. "You are beautiful, husband." Daenerys' voice hoarse with lust and love.
Moving to rip off her dress, something came to Jon's mind. I almost forgot. He pulled away, leaving her breathless on the bed.
"Jon…" Daenerys gaped at him incredulously. "Get back here!" she shouted, watching her sexy husband drift away towards a chest in the corner of the tent. "Pleasure your wife, Aegon Targaryen." Gods, he was torturing her, looking like that - bare chest and hair falling atop his shoulders in raven curls. Her own dark-haired Targaryen warrior king.
"One moment, my Queen," he called out, grinning. Out of the chest, Jon pulled a long bundle wrapped in a red cloth. "I still need to give you your wedding present."
Flushed from their passion, pouting slightly at having to wait, Dany nevertheless stood and walked over to him. Intrigued and curious over what he could have gotten her that necessitated interrupting their lovemaking. Jon would unleash Rhaegal on anyone that tries to keep him from me.
He set the bundle down on his desk, bidding Dany to unwrap it. "Bran found it, with his greensight. Sansa had riders go on the double to retrieve it from north of the wall to bring it for me."
"North of the wall?" Now she was very curious, eyebrow raised and looking on him suspiciously before finally pulling away the wrapping. Her eyes widened. A sword? Not any sword, for the Queen recognized the Valyrian steel immediately. Daenerys reached down to the ruby encrusted cross-guard, running her fingers down the grip to the flamed pommel. This is familiar… It dawned on Daenerys, the Queen gasping. Looking at Jon with utter shock. "Dark Sister."
Jon nodded, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "The sword of Visenya Targaryen. Lost with the Bloodraven north of the Wall long ago. Now it's yours, my love."
Daenerys grabbed the sword, light in hand. "No, Jon. You're the head of our house…"
"I have a sword, Dany. The one that brought the dawn." He pushed until the sword was firmly in Dany's hands. "I want you to have it."
"I don't know how to wield a sword…" she murmured, quiet.
He shrugged. "Nothing that can't be taught." A smirk graced his lips for a moment, imagining teaching his beloved. "You are a Targaryen conqueror as much as I am, Daenerys. It's only fitting that you have the sword to complete the look."
Eyes watering, Daenerys couldn't believe this man. Every time she thought she loved him, he went out of his way to prove she could love him even more. Setting Dark Sister - now hers - on the desk, she walked to Jon and kissed him sweetly. Pulling away before he could deepen it. "Wait," Dany said gently, walking to the bed.
Jon looked at her hungrily, watching as she shimmied out of her dress. Breath hitching at the lack of smallclothes. "Gods, Dany…"
Daenerys smirked over her shoulder, climbing on the bed on all fours. Wiggling her ass at him. "Take me from behind, my King."
Worried eyes found hers. "Dany…" Since they became lovers, Daenerys never allowed him in that position. Jon knew why - the Dothraki rapist took her that way. At her first fearful gaze, he never tried again. "Are you sure?"
Seeing him so concerned for her well-being made Dany swell with love for him. "It's you, Jon. I'm always safe with you. Please give me good memories." Another wiggle and he was on the bed, trousers stripped away.
She had made him so impossibly hard. Teasing her wetness with the thick head, making her moan. Rocking back into him. Jon grabbed her hips, fingertips brushing against impossibly soft and delectable skin. "Dany, tell me you want this." His voice was low, clouded with lust.
"Gods, Aegon." Dany was getting quite impatient. "Fuck your bride. I command it!" At her demand, she suddenly gasped. Jon's tongue swiping through her folds. His amazing tongue. "Seven hells… tolī. tepagon nyke tolī!"
The King never stopped. There was no way he could stop, needing her. Needing to devour and taste every bit of her. Insistent hands pulled her cheeks apart, exposing every bit of her cunt to his tongue. Feeling his face soaking with her juices, burying deep inside her.
Daenerys was in heaven. Biting her lip at how amazing Jon was making her feel - not even fucking her yet. "Valzȳrys…" she moaned breathlessly. Gushing thanks to him… her husband… fuck, my husband... A scream left her as he found her clit, fingers stroking it. "Kessa. Kessa. Kessa!" The pressure deep in her belly snapping, flood of wetness leaving her as Daenerys wailed her climax. Coating his tongue with her juices.
Jon smacked his lips, licking up all she gave him. "You're delicious, my dragon."
"Aegon…" Dany murmured, close to spent. Yelping suddenly when Jon bit her ass.
His tongue soothed the red bite mark. "Not sorry," Jon chuckled, sitting up on his knees behind her. Watching his bride flushed red, smooth skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Silver braids sparkling in the low firelight of the braziers. Fire surging within him, Jon grabbed Dany's hips, pushing into her channel all the way to the hilt.
"Oh Gods!" Dany screamed. He was so big, so full inside her. Her mouth opened but nothing came out, just a silent gasp. Eyes rolling back in her head as he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, rutting deep to her womb itself.
Relentless, Jon kept one hand on her hip while the other pulled her hair apart. Wanting it loose, silver locks spread out over her back haphazardly like a wanton whore. "Say you love it!" he growled. Jon had to hear her beg for him. "Say you want it!"
"I love it! I want it!" Her head crashed into the pillows, the goose down muffling her scream. Jon's hands were gripping her hips tight enough to leave bruises. Often wandering to smack her ass, knead her breasts, ghost down her spine. "Mine! You're mine!" she snarled like a dragon between moans. Fire welling up deep inside her for the second time that day." No… one… fuck… else… Aegon!"
"No one," Jon grunted, pounding her hard. Wanting her to cum. Needing her release. "I am yours, my Queen."
That did it. "Aegon…!" Howling his name, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms shattered around Jon's length. Several thrusts later, he followed, falling atop her back and muffling his own grunts into her shoulder. Biting the skin there. Continuing to pound through her climax, causing Dany to howl again.
She hissed as he pulled out, their bodies falling from their high - Daenerys never felt anything like him inside her, so full and wonderful. Utterly loved. Having climaxed twice, far from tiring her they set her alight. Woke the dragon. She flipped onto her back only to see him hovering over her. Eyes dark with lust. Surging forth to kiss her deeply. "My warrior queen," Jon mumbled into her lips, making Dany hunger for him yet again. Legs wrapped around his waist. Flipping them over.
Jon gazed up at his Queen, a smirk on her lips before she pounced. Biting his chest and licking his scars. "My conqueror."
Neither of the newlyweds would get any sleep that night. Neither could be bothered to care.
The soft waves of Blackwater Bay washed onto the sandy beach of the cove - one of the few places on Dragonstone that weren't hemmed with sharp cliffs and steep underwater plunges. Off over a mile away was the docks, while this secluded wonder was overlooked by the great spires of the castle. Where Aegon the Conqueror had spent many a quiet night enjoying an evening frolic with his beloved Rhaenys, or bonded with his fearsome Visenya. The refuge of Targaryen Kings and princes for generations.
Drogon yawned, chest rumbling as he shifted on the soft sand. Another day alone, wallowing in the impromptu nest of whale skeletons he had plucked from the ocean. Perhaps he would flap over to the cliffs, perhaps he would stay here… didn't matter. Without his mother, what was the point?
The Black Dread Reborn had lost all hope.
Suddenly his eyes flew open, grunt leaving his mouth. There, not fifty feet away, was a solitary figure. Hands out and eyes wide in a crazed mania. Drogon hooted angrily, but the man only extended his arms parallel to the ground. "Good morning, beautiful beast. Daddy's here!" Cackles followed.
The man's tone stoked anger inside Drogon. Lifting his head off the ground, the black dragon roared. Back the fuck up! But the man only laughed further, taking a step forward. Who is this… HIM! It was the one on the ship. The one that wounded him and Rhaegal - that stole his mother away from him. Bellowing a fearsome shriek into the air, Drogon's mouth shimmering as the fire began to ignite…
Only to explode in a puff of smoke and flame, pained screech leaving Drogon's mouth as the scorpion bolt slammed into his side. Thick chain groaning, yanking him off his feet.
Euron's smile resembled a hyena. "Hit him again!"