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Chapter Text

Prologue

Six years have passed since the tragic death of Laenor Velaryon, the lord husband of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the heir to the Iron Throne. The official account claimed he had met his end in a fiery demise on Driftmark, though doubts lingered. Dragonstone had emerged as Rhaenyra’s sanctuary, a haven of rugged beauty with its sandy coastline and formidable cliffs. Safeguarded from the machinations and whispers of King’s Landing, where the Queen’s presence loomed incessantly, Rhaenyra found solace with her sons; Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey.

For the last six years since Laenor’s death, Rhaenyra remained unmarried. The burden of being pressured to remarry weighed heavily upon her thoughts. She was fully aware that the King and Queen, along with the rest of the court, were discreetly exerting pressure on her to find a new partner in matrimony. However, Rhaenyra adamantly refused to entertain such notions, ignoring all ravens and letters from the Red Keep. 

Chapter 1 

The Red Keep

The King’s apartments were always kept spotless by his loyal servants. They often made their rounds a couple hours after dawn, when the King would get his breakfast in the royal dining chamber. A small legion of cleaners would enter the bedroom, a pair to make the King’s bed, a pair sweeping the floor, and a pair carefully dusting the shelves, bookcases, tables, chairs, and furniture around the room. They would clean the large clay model of Old Valyria last, fearful of mishandling or damaging the King’s work, and his favorite pastime. 

The King had a routine of enjoying his morning breakfast with his second daughter, Princess Helaena. Due to his declining health, he required assistance in walking to the dining chamber. At his left side, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Harrold Westerling stood steadfast, holding his forearm firmly, guiding him to his seat. Affixed on the right side of the King’s face was a golden half-mask, and upon seeing his beloved daughter, Viserys’ weary smile would immediately form on his lips. 

Princess Helaena stood from her seat to greet her father, giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. Her soft voice carried a sweet greeting, 

“Good morning, father.” Viserys’ labored breaths filled the air as he exhaled deeply, his touch gentle upon Helaena’s hand. He slumped into his chair, and within moments, two servants entered the room, placing platters of food before the King and princess. 

“Your grace,” greeted the first servant, an older woman, “good morning to you, and to you, my Princess.” she smiled at Helaena, and Helaena smiled kindly back. “This morning, we have a slow-cooked venison pie, fresh lemon and lime water from Dorne, and tart scones if you are still hungry.” Viserys looked down, he was given just a small slice of the pie. The crust was lightly browned, and some chunks of cooked venison spilled from the side. 

“Thank you,” nodded Viserys in a quiet voice. The servants bowed their heads, and left the dining hall to let the King and his daughter eat. 

“Where is your mother, will she be joining us?” asked Viserys curiously. 

“Perhaps in her quarters, still.” answered Helaena delicately, her tone indifferent as she took a bite of the pie with her fork, “I rarely see her most mornings. But I do think Aegon will be coming soon.” Viserys looked at his daughter, taken aback. 

“Aegon?” he muttered, appearing confused.

“Yes.” Helaena eyed her father, he seemed a bit lost. Before either of the two could say anything else, Prince Aegon entered the room with a cheery demeanor. 

“Good morning, family.” he said, with his arms wide open. Helaena rolled her eyes and continued eating her meal. Viserys looked up and smiled at his son. Aegon took a seat at Viserys’s right side, across from Helaena. “What are we breaking fast with?” he tapped his fingers on the wooden table, looking at Helaena and Viserys’ plates. 

Viserys put down his fork and opened his mouth to speak, but froze for a moment. The two children looked at their father, and then eyed one another quickly. 

“Venison pie.” answered Helaena. Within moments, a servant entered the room with a plate for the Prince. 

“Hm, venison, again.” muttered the Prince. 

“Where is your brother?” spoke up the King. 

“Haven’t the faintest idea.” said Aegon, beginning to devour his food quickly.  

“I have to speak to all of you.” said Viserys, “Ser Harrold,” the King’s Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stepped forward from the side of the long hall, 

“Yes, your grace?” 

“Please fetch the Queen, and the Prince.” 

Ser Harold then looked at two other Kingsguard knights in the dining hall who also overheard the orders, and nodded to them. The two knights then left the room to retrieve the Queen and Prince. 

The Queen’s chambers were consistently protected by at least two members of the Kingsguard, standing outside her apartment. More often than not, these were younger knights, inexperienced and freshly trained. For the Queen consort of the Seven Kingdoms, threats within the safety of her home were rare. It was King Viserys, as the ruler of the Realm, who truly required constant safeguarding.  

Queen Alicent of House Hightower stood facing the arch windows of her bedroom, looking outside at the cityscape far below her elevated room. She stood still as behind her, Criston Cole, slowly fasted the back knots of her deep green gown. The two were alone in the Queen’s bedchamber. Criston Cole, a member of the Kingsguard himself, was sworn to serve and protect the Queen at all times. Over the years since her marriage to Viserys, a bond had formed between them, growing stronger with each passing day. 

Criston’s fingers delicately tied together the opening of the Queen’s gown, his fingers just inches away from her smooth, bare skin. Unable to resist the temptation, his eyes lingered on her shoulders that were exposed by the low-cut gown, his desire to touch her growing stronger with each passing second. 

“Much longer?” questioned the Queen, impatiently. 

“No.” Criston replied succinctly, stepping back from the Queen, having completed the final knot. Alicent turned around to face him with a stern expression. 

“The guards will surely wonder about the duration of your stay here,” she stated coldly. Criston took a step towards her and looked down at her. Their deep brown eyes locked onto each other. 

“Serving my Queen,” Criston murmured. Alicent’s eyes widened subtly, her hand came to rest up on his chestplate, holding him at bay as he attempted to lean in for a kiss. 

There was a knock at the door, and Alicent pushed Criston back, walking towards the door. 

“Enter.” she said. One of her knights entered the room, Ser Edward, 

“Your grace,” he bowed his head, “You have been summoned by the King, to the dining chamber.” 

“What for?” she let out a weary sigh.

“He did not specify why, your grace.” 

Alicent, her irritation apparent, briskly walked past Ser Edward, with Criston close behind in tow. Criston paused and thanked the young knight as they left the room, making their way to the dining chamber to meet the King. 

Queen Alicent stepped into the dining chamber to find the rest of her family already assembled. The King sat at the head of the table, with Helaena a seat down to his left, and Aegon and Aemond to his right. An open seat lay waiting for Alicent on the King’s left, and when she entered, Viserys smiled kindly. Alicent moved towards the seat and sat down. 

“Good morning, your grace.” said Alicent flatly to her husband, offering a performative kiss on his cheek as she sat beside him. “I was informed we were needed urgently,” she said, her voice slightly concerned.

Viserys sighed and looked around the table, his eyes lingering between Aemond and Helaena, who were listening intently, while Aegon seemed more preoccupied in his own thoughts. He began, 

“I miss my eldest daughter,” lamenting, “It has been almost a year since I’ve seen her, yet she is merely across the bay.” he then declared, “I will instruct Rhaenyra to return to King’s Landing.” Alicent’s eyes moved quickly, darting from Aegon to Aemond, her confusion mounting. 

“What for, husband?” blurted Alicent, “The Princess seems to be content on her little island.” 

“I have given it much thought over the last few years, since the death of Laenor… and Rhaenyra shall be wedded to Aegon.” Viserys said. Alicent’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach, she felt sick. Aegon was suddenly attentive and alert, 

“What?” 

“You heard me, boy.” said Viserys strictly. Frustration laced over Alicent’s voice as she responded, 

“What has provoked this?” 

“I worry for my daughter’s future,” Viserys began to explain calmly, “I fear how the Realm will react when she ascends to the throne as ruling Queen. Therefore, Aegon shall become King Consort.” Alicent took a deep breath and lowered her face, sinking into her hands. She shook her head slightly in disbelief. Aegon’s eyes widened, 

“King?” he muttered confusedly.

“Consort.” clarified Aemond, as he sat still as a statue in his seat. 

“Aye.” nodded Viserys, “You will serve Rhaenyra as her husband, as she will be the Queen.” 

“She is my sister…” muttered Aegon. 

“We must keep the bloodlines strong.” responded Viserys. 

“And how do you expect Rhaenyra to respond to this? She has secluded herself on Dragonstone, what would compel her to come?” retorted Alicent with frustration. 

“When I inform her… that I will be abdicating.” responded Viserys. A collective shocked rippled through the Targaryen siblings, each face marked with disbelief and wide eyes. Alicent’s face paled, as if she was witnessing a grim vision. Viserys continued, “All to ensure to smooth transition of power, for my daughter.” 

Aegon marched to his apartment, followed closely by Aemond. The elder prince seethed with anger as he barged into the main room, his body hunched over in fury. Uncertain whether he should release his frustration with a scream or a chokehold, Aegon clenched his fists. The thought of marrying Rhaenyra, his half-sister, seemed to be inconceivable and absurd to Aegon, even though he knew it was a common Targaryen custom. He had no aspirations to be linked to the throne in any capacity, let alone be in its orbit. Aegon paced through the length of his room as Aemond watched his brother, standing still for a moment. 

Aemond, moving to the chaotic table in Aegon’s room, littered with used wine goblets and empty bottles, picked one up and examined its contents. Finding only a few drops left in the dark bottle, he spoke dryly.

“I think this was inevitable, brother.” Aemond put down the empty bottle and picked up some of the fallen goblets on the floor. “It would have been her or Helaena… and we all know how you feel about our dear little sister…” 

“She’s nearly twice my age!” shouted Aegon, spinning around to pace around the room. “And she has children already, those fucking Strong bastards!” Aegon’s eyes flared with frustration as he whirled around to face Aemond. Aemond then responded calmly, 

“Perhaps father will ensure they are passed over. In favor of your… future children.” Aegon fell onto his back on the bed and closed his eyes.

“And what about abdicating?” 

“I am intrigued to see how Rhaenyra will react to all of this.” said Aemond, “Father must truly not have faith in the Seven Kingdoms.” 

“He’s the King, he can make them abide!” shouted Aegon, sitting back up on the side of his bed, “No need to put me at her side!” 

“Brother, I think you must accept it.” Aemond sat down in one of the chairs at the table with the empty wine bottles, “There is no purpose in fighting it.” Aegon gave his brother a smug look, one with some disgust, 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“What do I have to gain from enjoying this?” asked Aemond frankly, “I am a pragmatist. Have you not realized, brother, that you will be King?” 

“A bitch King.” sighed Aegon. 

“A King nonetheless.” smirked Aemond. 

Aemond rose from his seat and leaned against the doorframe, looking back at his brother who was still lying on the bed, his hands covering his face. Aemond observed his brother, a hint of irritation, but mostly he saw the immaturity within Aegon. He had much to learn, perhaps this would push him in the right direction. He couldn’t just waste away his days and nights drinking and whoring. 

Chapter Text

Dragonstone

The sounds of young dragon screeches were prevalent one morning over Dragonstone. Soaring high through the cloudless skies over the bastion of a castle were the dragons Vermax and Arrax, with their riders, Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys, respectively. The sixteen and fourteen year old boys adored taking their dragons for early morning flights around the island and nearby open waters. As much as the boys felt free, so did their young dragons. 

Jacaerys loved pushing his limits with Vermax, and Vermax liked doing the same to Jacaerys; taking steep dives straight to the rough ocean waters, gliding at the very last possible second. Lucerys would often watch from high above, as he did not like such severe flying, it made his stomach turn. It already took him long enough to get accustomed to flying in the first place! 

Lucerys laughed and grinned as he watched and heard his brother scream with thrill as Vermax dove towards the beaches of Dragonstone. Arrax made a chirping sound to Lucerys, and the younger Prince understood what that meant. The younger dragon wanted to join the fun, and Lucerys hesitated. He patted the gray dragon’s shoulder bone, 

“Rusir paez.” said Lucerys reluctantly in Valyrian, telling him with slowness, “Jikagon!” he said to Arrax, telling him to go. Arrax screeched, making a few heaving flaps upward to then sharply dive towards the beach. Lucerys closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together. The wind sharply tugged at his long brown hair and his clothes as the pair shot straight down through the sky. 

Arrax began to level out, far sooner than Vermax, and Lucerys opened his eyes. He noticed that Vermax and Jacaerys landed at the gatehouse, much to his surprise. There was a knight flagging the younger prince down. 

…

“You called for us, mother?” Jacaerys said as he walked alongside Luke into the castle’s main library in the upper levels of Dragonstone. The library’s walls were filled with diamond shaped shelves and each one stuffed with scrolls and books. Princess Rhaenyra was seated at a desk with a large book, and a single message note next to it. She had just a small short smile to greet her children. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Lucerys. 

“We have to go to King’s Landing,” said Rhaenyra, “your grandsire commanded it.” 

“What for?” asked Jacaerys. Rhaenyra picked up the note, 

“A raven came in this morning, from the Queen…” she paused, “the King is not doing well. That is all that has been said.” she held the note tightly in her hand and held her head high.

“And how long must we stay there for?” asked Lucerys. Jacaerys noticed that his mother was seemingly uncomfortable, and holding something back. Rhaenyra walked past her two sons to another desk, where there was a pile of old books. 

“Fetch Joffrey and tell him to collect his favorite toys.” she said. She began organizing the books, stacking them atop one another. 

“Mother,” Jacaerys said, “how long?” Rhaenyra stood over the desk, her back facing her sons. She closed her eyes, and leaned on the desk, exhaling loudly. The Princess held out the note, and the two boys looked at her. Lucerys walked up to take the note and read it aloud, 

“ Dearest Princess Rhaenyra, the King declared that you return to King’s Landing imminently. For the sanctity of House Targaryen, our family, and the continuation of stability and peace, you are to be wed to my eldest son, Prince Aegon. The King awaits your return. His health is in decline, and he wishes his entire family to be present during possibly his final moments. Signed, Queen Alicent.” Lucerys lowered the note from his gaze, and slowly turned to look at his brother. Jacaerys clenched his jaw and fists, taking in a deep breath. 

“What kind of message is this?” blurted Jacaerys angrily, “What kind of news is delivered through raven like this? You cannot marry him.” 

“Jace,” Rhaenyra said. 

“He’s a drunk, an imbecile,” continued Jacaerys, “a puny, little man-”

“Jace,” Rhaenyra said sternly, turning around, and the older Prince silenced. “I may not agree with much of what my father has done over the years…” she paused, “We must think of this tactfully.” 

“Tactfully?” scoffed Jacaerys. 

“I know you are smarter than how you are currently acting,” scolded Rhaenyra, “you must see the purpose of this.” 

“Unfortunately, I do not.” he replied back with irritation. 

“I do not want this.” Rhaenyra raised her voice, “I know you do not either. But this will put to rest all the whispers-”

“What whispers? Who gives a fuck about whispers?!” shouted Jacaerys. He immediately regretted raising his voice at his mother. Lucerys gulped nervously and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Forgive me, mother,” said Jacaerys, lowering his head, “I just…” 

“Whispers of Aegon replacing me as heir, and King of the Seven Kingdoms.” said Rhaenrya, walking up to her sons. She took Jace’s hand in her right hand, and Luke’s in her left. “As much as I do not want this, this will put to bed any potential threats to my claim, to my throne, to our throne.”

“That message speaks nothing of reaffirming your claim.” said Jacaerys worriedly, “What if you are to just be his wife…” 

“I will simply not agree to it then, if Aegon is made King and I his consort.” said Rhaenyra simply, shrugging her shoulders. She leaned forward, “I will not let our inheritance slip away.” she whispered. 

“What if…” Luke muttered nervously, “what if he hurts you?” Rhaenyra smiled at her younger son, 

“Then I would simply call for Syrax, and teach Aegon a lesson.” Luke nodded with a chuckle. Rhaenyra kissed Luke on his forehead, and then Jace. Jacaerys was visibly not convinced, and still irritated. 

“Now, go get your brother, help him get his things. And prepare yours. We leave this evening.” ordered the Princess. The two Velaryon boys turned around and headed for the stairs to go get their younger brother, Joffrey, and to prepare their things. Rhaenyra watched as they left the room, and let out a deep sigh. As soon as the door shut, she spun around and began to sob. She leaned over the desk, unable to control the tears. It wasn’t the news of her forced, arranged, marriage that struck her so deeply… it was her father’s state of health. She spent months at a time without seeing him, without writing him back. Was this all Alicent’s plot? Was this Otto’s doing as an overreaching Hand? She wished Daemon were here. 

King’s Landing

The Red Keep

The Small Council waited patiently for the King and Queen to arrive. It was uncertain if the King would arrive, as of late, Queen Alicent sat in for the King in his place due to his condition. There were six other members of the Small Council, all men, and all at least middle aged. They sat in silence as they waited. It was early in the morning, and they were informed that the King had made a decision with his family that he intended to share. 

The main doors to the room opened and each of the council members turned their heads to look. It was King Viserys, joined by Queen Alicent, and four Kingsguard knights. The councilors stood up as the King entered slowly. 

“Good morrow,” panted Viserys tiredly as he walked with his cane around the table. 

“Good morrow, your grace.” said the Lord Hand, Otto Hightower. The other members greeted the King and Queen as well. Queen Alicent walked at Viserys’s side, holding his arm, guiding him to his seat. The King took his seat at the head of the table, and Alicent at his left side. Once Viserys slumped into his chair, the others took their seat as well. 

Otto looked at his daughter, she was avoiding eye contact with him. She had a pale face. And he knew that something important must be happening. The King was catching his breath, leaning to his left side, and his eye closed. Alicent reached her hand to the King’s, 

“Your grace, we can begin,” she whispered. Viserys jolted up, 

“Aye.” he cleared his throat, “I have news.” 

Alicent sat straight in her seat and clasped her hands together in her lap, picking at her fingernails underneath the table. Her eyes were low, away from the other men at the table. Otto eyed his daughter conspicuously, and then looked at the King. 

“I am aware of the constant whispers about my succession,” continued the King, “Rhaenyra is my heir, and is to succeed me as ruling Queen. But to end any qualms or potential crises… she is to be wedded to my eldest son, Prince Aegon.” Viserys looked at Otto, “An idea you hatched long ago, my friend, that I should have taken into consideration more seriously.” Otto was always a stoic man without much expression on his face, but he was taken aback by this revelation. He looked at Alicent again, where the two looked at one another for a second. Alicent looked away, almost with a sense of shame. Viserys was quiet, as was the rest of the table. He looked at the Lord Hand, 

“Otto, speak your mind,” said the King, “I know you are thinking a thousand things.” 

“I…” Otto cleared his throat, “I commend your grace’s decision and course of action… for the betterment of the Realm.” 

“It is a practical course of action, indeed.” spoke up the Master of Laws, Lord Jasper Wylde. 

“There is more, your grace.” said Alicent, nodding to her King husband. Viserys nodded back and inhaled, 

“And, upon her marriage… I shall abdicate, and step down as ruling sovereign.” 

Otto cocked his head, now he was truly shocked. 

“Your grace?” Grand Maester Orwyle spoke up in confusion, “What prompted this, if I may ask?” 

“I shall speak freely among you all,” continued the King, “as I trust each of you. But I do not trust many of the lords across the Seven Kingdoms. There are men out there, power-hungry men, with an appetite for perpetual conflict and strife. Some who would gladly take it from my daughter, the heir, and the soon-to-be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” Once the King finished, he started to pant lightly, catching his breath. He was exhausted, and leaned back in his ornate chair. 

“This… is unprecedented,” said the Master of Ships, Lord Corlys Velaryon. He sat at the other head of the table, opposite of Viserys. “Is the Crown Princess aware of this, your grace?” 

“We sent her a letter.” spoke up Alicent, as Viserys was closing his eyes to rest, “Detailing the marriage.”

“And…?” Corlys awaited for more. 

“That is all I disclosed in the message,” said the Queen. Otto scoffed quietly, and Alicent glared at him, “to avert the risk of the message being intercepted and news spreading throughout the Realm without our control.” 

“There will be no method to control this narrative once we release the news,” said Otto. 

“It is…” Viserys spoke up once more, “a royal decree. The Kingdoms shall abide and move forward.” 

“If it is any consolation, your grace,” added Lord Corlys, “this does show your strength as a ruler… as a father. For the betterment of the Seven Kingdoms.” Corlys looked around at the other men at the table. They didn’t seem as impressed, enthusiastic, or even hopeful. 

“First,” Queen Alicent spoke, “we shall focus on the wedding.” Otto could tell she was not even pleased with that either. Viserys nodded in agreement with his wife. 

“Where is Rhaenyra?” he asked quietly, swinging his head to look at Otto. Otto leaned closer to the King, 

“Surely on her way from Dragonstone, your grace.” the Hand said quietly. Viserys nodded. Alicent exhaled tiredly. Her husband was not in his right mind, and it became more and more common he had these forgetful moments. They were often short and minor. Perhaps he was wise to stand down from the throne. 

The Hand to the King made his way to the Queen’s apartments in the Red Keep after the Small Council meeting adjourned. The meeting did not last long. They primarily discussed the wedding between Aegon and Rhaenyra, nobody wanted to discuss the abdication. It was almost too taboo, even though the conversation was private, kept secret in that room. 

Otto was led into the Queen’s living quarters by Ser Criston Cole who stood at the apartment’s main doors. 

“Your grace, the Lord Hand is here to see you.” said Cole, holding the door open for Otto. The Queen’s father entered the room, and Cole exited. Alicent had old dresses laid strewn across one of the sofas in the main parlor. 

“Father,” muttered Alicent, her way of greeting him nowadays. She ran her hands along the sleeve of one of the gowns. It was white and gold with some deep red embroideries. Otto looked, and realized it was her wedding dress from many years ago. 

“Where did this all come from?” he asked bluntly. She already knew what he was talking about. But, all the Queen did was shrug her shoulders. Otto sighed, he walked across the room over to the balcony doors to get some fresh air. A slight warm breeze entered the room. Alicent noticed that her father’s eyes were no longer on her, as she peeked over her shoulder. Otto put his hands on his belt, looking outside. 

“It has been nearly twenty years…” continued Otto, “since I suggested the idea to him.” 

“Without my knowledge, of course.” said Alicent sharply. 

“I know what the Realm is, I know what its Lords are like.” he said in response, maintaining a stoic posture and calm voice. “And so does Rhaenyra.” 

“And what does Rhaenyra know, exactly?” Alicent raised her voice, turning to face her father. Otto looked over his shoulder, staring at his clearly distressed daughter. 

“They’d never accept her,” he muttered, “as long as Aegon and Aemond are alive.” 

“I’ve known this. This is nothing new to me, father.” 

“They won’t accept an abdication.” he added, “Aegon will not be King entirely. A cucked King, possibly.” Alicent scoffed and shook her head, 

“This is the will of my husband, the King.” 

“You are the Queen, his wife, and I suspect you did not steer him in any direction. No course correction at all.” he looked down at his daughter, with a subtle look of disappointment. It pierced Alicent’s heart, but she was no stranger to this feeling from her father. 

“You are the Hand.” she hissed, stepping closer to her father. “His closest advisor. And I know my son, he wants none of this.” the father and daughter stared at one another in a moment of silence. Alicent then walked away, back to the sofa, to pick up her old wedding dress. She began to fold it unceremoniously. “And I won’t be the Queen for much longer.” 

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

The Red Keep

Aegon woke early in the morning yet stayed in bed, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. It was the day Rhaenyra would arrive from Dragonstone, his half-sister, and his soon-to-be wife. It didn’t feel real to him. He was just twenty years old and Rhaenyra was thirty-five, what a pairing. He did find Rhaenyra beautiful, a stunning woman, but he never thought of her in a romantic or sexual way. That probably would have to change soon, and quickly. He huffed loudly and closed his eyes, picturing Rhaenyra right in front of him, as if she were staring at him face to face. He could clearly see her hazel eyes, her dark and sharp eyebrows, her rigid nose, and soft pink lips. He started to imagine her neck and chest, without any clothes. He knew she had smooth soft skin across her face and hands, it was safe to assume the rest of her body was just the same - flawless and perfect. Aegon felt his underwear grow tight, his cock was growing hard. 

Aegon slowly caressed his hand across his bare chest, slipping underneath the blanket, and held his hand over his bulge. He rubbed it back and forth, picturing a nude Rhaenyra in his mind. He wasn’t sure what the rest of her body looked like, she was surely thin, but he didn’t know exactly where her curves would be, or even how her breasts sat on her chest. 

He pulled down his underwear, holding his cock in his hand, beginning to stroke it. He opened his eyes, and looked down, he was fully erect. It didn’t take much work, Aegon knew that for sure. He spit in his hand to lubricate himself, and he groaned softly as he continued to stroke. The Prince removed the blanket from his body, laying uncovered in his bed now, and started stroking his cock faster. He closed his eyes again, trying to picture Rhaenyra again. He imagined himself mounting on top of her, with the Princess on her back. He wondered if she even liked it that way - no, it didn’t matter, he needed to finish, he would be her husband. Aegon panted quietly as he grew closer to climax, using his other hand to grab the bed sheet tightly. His abdomen tightened, feeling it overcome himself, finally ejaculating over his stomach, chest, and some reaching his chin. He let go of his cock and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. 

“Fuck.” he exhaled. Aegon wanted more. The Prince got up and got a rag to clean himself, standing in front of a tall standing-mirror. He needed to get dressed and ready, he could already hear the bustle of servants outside in the halls. It must be nearly time for the Princess’s arrival. 

…

A chorus of dragon roars echoed over the highlands of King’s Landing near the Red Keep. The golden dragon Syrax flew towards the main gatehouse of the Red Keep, calling out to her rider down below that was in a carriage in a royal caravan. Syrax was followed closely by Arrax and Vermax, following their riders from up above. 

The caravan was made up of nearly a hundred knights and soldiers from Dragonstone, protectors of the Crown Princess and her children. They rode on horses, a pair side by side in the procession. A single royal carriage carried the royals, entering the Red Keep’s entry plaza once it passed through the gatehouse. In the small square awaited the remainder of the royal family, and nearly an army of the castle’s knights, servants, and ladies-in-waiting. 

Standing in a line were Princess Helaena, Prince Aemond, Queen Alicent, Prince Aegon, and then Lord Otto. The Kingsguard stood behind the line of royals. There wasn’t a single speck of emotion on any of the royals as they watched Rhaenyra’s carriage slow to a stop, and a guard put down wooden steps and opened the door. 

Rhaenyra exited the carriage first, followed by Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys, and then the six year old Prince Joffrey. The Crown Princess stood out immediately among her brown haired children. Rhaenyra saw Alicent first, and approached her. 

“My Queen,” Rhaenyra bowed her head. 

“Princess Rhaenyra.” greeted Alicent, “It is good to see you after all this time.” Rhaenyra then greeted Helaena and Aemond, walking over to them, 

“My sweet sister,” smiled Rhaenyra, pulling in Helaena for a hug. Helaena smiled back as she was held by her elder sister. She then faced Aemond, 

“Good brother,” she was far less cheery with the middle Prince. 

“Good sister.” he responded flatly. Then there was Aegon. Rhaenyra took in a deep breath and faced her first half-brother. 

“Good to see you, Princess.” said Aegon, almost with some uncertainty in his voice. 

“Aegon.” she nodded, unsure what to say. He was shorter than her, and not because of his age, but he was always naturally a short young man. There was a silence between them, and Rhaenyra faced Alicent once again.

“Where is my father?” asked Rhaenyra of the Queen.

“Resting in bed, Princess.” joined Otto, before Alicent could even respond. Rhaenyra was beginning to feel queasy in her gut. That couldn’t be a good sign. She looked at Alicent and her eyes were wide with sadness. She recognized it immediately, she could never forget the anxious look in her childhood friend’s gaze. 

“Let us bring you to him.” nodded Alicent. Rhaenyra then followed Alicent and the Hand as they walked side by side, and turned to look for Helaena. She smiled again at the younger Princess and interlocked her arm with Helaena’s as they walked together. 

“I was told about your embroideries.” said Rhaenyra warmly. 

“Oh yes, mother is quite fond of them, I think,” said Helaena awkwardly. Rhaenyra chuckled. 

“You must show them to me, after we see father.” 

“I’ve made coats most recently, for our brothers. I started a gown for myself just the other morning.” there was some excitement in Helaena’s voice. 

“Oh, now I must see your work.” insisted Rhaenyra. 

Behind the Princesses walked Jacaerys and Joffrey together, with Luke behind them. Luke was then left with Aegon and Aemond. 

“Nephew.” greeted Aemond to Luke. Luke hated being called that by someone of his own brother’s age. 

“Aemond.” Luke said in a bothered tone, with a sigh, “Did you get a new eye patch? It looks new, and nice on you.” Aemond gritted his teeth with annoyance, 

“No, same one. It’s a strong one.” 

Aegon was last in the line of royals as they walked towards the stairs up to the Red Keep’s doors. His eyes were on the back of Rhaenyra’s head, as she walked with Helaena. Rhaenyra’s skin was just as flawless as he remembered. He regretted not saying something else to her, rather than just a greeting. Hell, it probably didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had to court her. The marriage was already set to happen. 

…

Princess Rhaenyra was brought to the King’s bedchambers by the Queen herself, and no one else. The two walked silently up the wide set of stone stairs to the royal chamber, with Rhaenyra behind the Queen. Rhaenyra looked around the cavernous halls that they traversed in, a lot of the Targaryen imagery had been replaced by Seven-pointed Stars - mainly the windows. There were banners hanging from tall archways with the Star of the Seven as well, and not a single Targaryen sigil in sight. It made Rhaenyra uncomfortable and a bit resentful. That would change once she becomes Queen. 

In the King’s bedchambers, most of the curtains were drawn to a close. Rhaenyra saw her father as soon as she entered the large room. She walked right past his large model scale of Old Valyria. Viserys lay on his bed under his covers, half-asleep, with a white wrap covering his forehead, his eye, and cheek. 

“Husband,” Alicent said as she approached the King’s right bedside. Rhaenyra approached the left side. Viserys grunted but his eye still remained closed. “Rhaenyra is here.” Alicent patted Viserys on his shoulder, trying to wake him. Rhaenyra sat on her father’s bedside and reached for his hand. It was frail, wrinkled, and its skin loose. 

“Father,” said the Princess a bit louder than the Queen, “It’s me.” Viserys wrestled his body ever so slightly, groaning in pain. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent. The Queen knew by the Princess’s look that she wanted to know why he was like this. 

“It must still be the milk of the poppy in his system.” said Alicent, sitting on the other side of the King’s bed, opposite of Rhaenyra. 

“He’s entirely incapacitated…” muttered Rhaenyra disappointedly. She looked at Alicent with aversion. 

“He will awake for dinner, surely.” said the Queen, moving her touch away from the King. Alicent stood up and straightened her gown. There was silence between the two women, with only the low breathing of the King filling the air. 

“Is this how you’ve kept him all this time?” Rhaenyra hissed at Alicent as the two women walked away from the King’s bed. They were near the main doors to the bedchamber, and both occasionally looked at the half-asleep Viserys. Alicent shook her head, 

“Perhaps if you were here, you’d understand his condition.” she said in a snapping tone. Rhaenyra stared at her father. She could not believe what she was seeing. He wasn’t so decrepit and frail the last time she saw him… alas, it had been possibly a year now since she saw him last. “I do what I can to ease his pain.” continued Alicent. Rhaenyra took in a deep breath, her eyes beginning to water with tears. 

“And now,” Rhaenyra inhaled shakily, “at his worst he summons me.” Alicent reached for Rhaenyra’s hand. With a single touch of Alicent’s fingertips on Rhaenyra’s wrist, the one with the scar that Alicent had given to her years ago, the Princess recoiled, startled. The two women looked at one another. Before either one could speak, there was a knock at the door, and it opened. Ser Criston opened the door, glaring at Rhaenyra, however only to allow Prince Aegon to enter. 

“Aegon,” sniffled Alicent, “What is it?” 

“I wanted to see father.” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “I knew you were both up here.” he quickly glanced at Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra walked away from the Queen and Prince and back to her father, going back to his bedside. Rhaenyra reached for her father’s hand. Aegon looked at his mother, he could tell something just happened between the two, and was curious as to what. Alicent sighed and left the room, leaving Aegon, and shutting the door. Aegon furrowed his brows, and then looked at Rhaenyra across the room. His older half-sister was facing their father, she was whispering something. 

Aegon slowly walked across the room, but stopped just a few feet away from the end of the King’s bed. Rhaenyra stopped her whispers and glanced over her shoulder. 

“What are you saying to him?” he asked. 

“A Valyrian prayer.” she responded, looking back at her father. “Perhaps if there is a God out there listening, they could show some form of mercy.” Rhaenyra was now quiet, she did not continue the prayer. 

“You should continue it.” said the Prince, stepping a foot closer to the end of the bed. Rhaenyra still remained silent. “You know how he likes historical…things. Really anything Valyrian ought to get his attention.” Rhaenyra did not respond. Aegon walked around to his father’s right side, opposite of Rhaenyra. 

“Mother was right, he isn’t always like this,” he added. He wanted to reassure Rhaenyra, their father was not entirely suffering… At least, he didn’t always show it. “He’s always most himself in the mornings… up until midday usually.” 

“Why did he do this?” blurted Rhaenyra, shaking her head. 

“Do what?” Aegon and Rhaenyra looked at one another. She lowered her gaze, her eyes were stern and cold. “Oh.” he finally understood now. The marriage. 

“Did your mother have anything to do with this? Or your grandsire?” interrogated Rhaenyra. 

“No, and no. Not that I know of. She found out the same morning I did, and then Otto afterward at the Small Council.” explained Aegon. Rhaenyra shook her head. She stood up again, her father was now fully asleep. 

“Perhaps we can change his mind, get out of this mess.” she looked at Aegon. 

“What mess?” 

“I’ve had enough of forced marriages,” said the Princess. 

“What are you going to tell him exactly?” asked Aegon. 

“That a political marriage is unnecessary, the Realm has accepted me as the heir, and the next ruling Queen.” 

“Marriages are always political and always a necessity.” shrugged Aegon, “And are you truly so confident in that assessment?” 

“Would you disagree?” Rhaenyra glared at Aegon. 

“I have accepted reality…” Aegon chuckled, “I have no control over my life. Perhaps you should accept that yourself.”  Rhaenyra looked away from her younger brother and back at their father. 

“I think,” began Rhaenyra, “if we are to have a successful marriage - one that is not tumultuous - that we maintain our distance from one another.” Aegon looked at Rhaenyra. He was beginning to understand now, she did not want any of this.

Prince Aemond Targaryen walked with broad shoulders and confidence through the busy halls of the Red Keep, towards another set of apartments. He was going specifically to Princess Helaena’s apartments in the castle. The Princess’s apartment doors were open down the hall, and Aemond could hear some chatter and the occasional laughter. He began to walk more quickly. Helaena did not often have visitors. 

Aemond swiftly entered the room, interrupting a conversation between Helaena and Jacaerys. The two were standing near one another, with Jace showing Helaena his sword. Helaena’s smile faded away upon seeing her younger brother. Jacaerys took a step back from Helaena. 

“Aemond,” said Helaena. 

“I did not know you liked to have visitors.” Aemond gave a sarcastic smile as he glanced at Jacaerys. Helaena swung around to the small table behind her, where she had a large wooden and glass case open. 

“I was showing Jacaerys my collection of spiders.” she said with excitement, “And he his sword.” Jace sheathed his sword at his black and silver belt. Aemond walked forward, putting distance between Jace and his sister. Aemond looked at Jace’s hilt of his sword, and his sheath. The leather sheath was decorated with engravings and embroideries of spindly and long dragons. Jace stepped back, away from Aemond, putting his hand on the sword’s hilt. 

“How does it feel to be back in the Red Keep, after all these years?” asked Aemond of his nephew. 

“Both nostalgic and uncomfortable.” said Jace simply, staring back at Aemond. 

“Uncomfortable?” asked Aemond. Helaena closed her collection case of bugs and hauled it off the table. 

“Aye.” nodded Jace, “Always at least a pair of eyes on me, I feel.” 

“Hm…” grumbled Aemond, he started to pace around the room, “Where is your dear brother? My little nephew.” 

“Leave us, Aemond.” commanded Helaena. Both Aemond and Jace gave a surprised look to the Princess. Aemond never expected his quiet, awkward, sister to be so bold. Aemond tilted his head as he looked at Helaena. She was trying to remain steadfast, but her nerves were shaky. “Go find your nephew yourself. He is surely around somewhere.” she added. Aemond took a step back towards the door. 

“I’ll come find you later.” he said to Helaena. Jace furrowed his brow as Aemond left. He stepped closer to Helaena, 

“What did that mean?” he asked in a whisper. Helaena shrugged her shoulders and spun around, going off to another corner of her room. She reached to a high shelf, taking down a large book. 

“I want to show you these.” she said, returning with a smile on her face. She dropped the heavy book on the table, unleashing a cloud of dust. There was a design of a flower on the cover. “Flowers I’ve found around King’s Landing, some on Driftmark, some around the Crownlands.” she opened it. There were pressed flowers among the pages with descriptions beside each of them. Jace looked down at the book, but then back at Helaena’s face. She was totally entranced by the book she was showing him, as if she were showing him her treasures. Her eyes were innocent and wide. 

“I’ve always wanted to find what rare flowers are on Dragonstone, especially near the Dragonmont.” added the Princess. 

“Perhaps I can bring you there one day.” Helaena looked up at Jace and she began to grin. 

“Really?” 

“Aye, with our dragons, just the two of us.” he said, forcing a smile. He did not want to pressure Helaena into revealing whatever Aemond meant, she was visibly uncomfortable about that entire interaction… and he wanted to get to the bottom of that. 

Chapter Text

Driftmark 

High Tide

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was well accustomed to life in High Tide at Driftmark. The castle was now more of a home than the Red Keep, after all, it was where her husband lived most of the year, and now her grandchildren. The castle was mostly quiet with Lord Corlys in King’s Landing. The Lord of the Tides often brought an air of humor and livelihood to the castle, laughter, stories and tales, too. 

Rhaenys walked into a bedroom that was dimly lit with candles. It was her granddaughter Rhaena’s bedroom. The young Lady sat crouched near the fireplace in her room, where in a metal manger was a dragon egg. Rhaenys stood in the doorway of the bedroom, crossing her arms as she looked at her granddaughter. Rhaena was so desperate to hatch an egg. This would be the second attempt with an egg. The first that hatched about three years ago did not latch onto Rhaena, let alone bond with her. That dragon found itself fond of her older sister by two years, Baela, and the dragon was named Moondancer. 

Rhaena heard Rhaenys’ footsteps into the room, and looked over her shoulder for a quick moment. She was saddened. Rhaenys entered the room and knelt beside her granddaughter, putting her hand on Rhaena’s back. The two were in front of the crackling fire. 

“You mustn’t become restless.” said Rhaenys softly. 

“I am nothing but patient, grandmother.” sighed Rhaena, “I still feel behind.” Rhaenys pulled her granddaughter to her side for a hug. 

“Princess,” a voice interrupted from the door. Rhaenys and Rhaena looked, it was one of their castle knights, an older man with a scruffy white beard and bushy eyebrows. 

“Yes, Ser Rylan?” Rhaenys stood up, but Rhaena remained crouched on the floor in front of the fire with her dragon egg. 

“A raven has come from King’s Landing, from Lord Corlys.” Ser Rylan entered the room to meet Rhaenys halfway, giving her the small paper message. Rhaenys took it and read it immediately. She always was apprehensive reading messages from her lord husband. In recent years, whenever she received a raven from him, it was never good news. Rhaenys sighed and lowered the note after reading it. 

“It appears we are going back to the capital.” she said reluctantly. 

King’s Landing

The Red Keep

The Small Council was convening early in the morning as usual, however, there was an additional member. Joining the council was the Crown Princess Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra was given Queen Alicent’s seat at the left side of her father, moving Alicent further down the table. 

“Princess Rhaenys should be arriving this evening with her granddaughter.” spoke the Hand, Otto Hightower, “We can begin the wedding and celebrations on the morrow’s evening. The High Septon has just arrived this morning to perform the ceremony, and many of the Lords of the Great Houses have made their way into the capital.”  Viserys nodded, pleased to hear of the news. His head was low but he was wide awake. Rhaenyra was now beginning to believe Aegon, that he was more alert in the morning. She was glad to see her father more awake. 

“I want…” Viserys cleared his voice, “to settle the matter of the remaining children.” he looked at Alicent. 

“Which children, your grace?” asked the Queen. 

“Helaena, Aemond, Daeron.” he responded. 

“They are still young, my King.” Alicent was reluctant to already decide the betrothals of her remaining children. They were still teenagers, except for Aegon, who was now twenty years old. 

“Perhaps we can discuss this after the wedding.” chimed in Rhaenyra, glancing at Alicent to her side, “And we can consider Jacaerys as well, he is of betrothal age.” Alicent was not sure if she should feel supported or pinned into a further corner. After the wedding would soon come Viserys’ abdication, and Alicent had no idea how Rhaenyra would rule… and what she’d do to her children. Her first thought was that Rhaenyra would send them all away from the capital, just like she were forced to send Daeron to ward in Oldtown. 

“I think it best we settle the matter now, since we are on the topic.” insisted Otto, looking at Viserys with a kind expression. Rhaenyra and Alicent looked at one another, they could see how the Hand was trying to push his way through to Viserys. 

“Let us leave Aemond, Daeron, and Helaena out of it, for now.” said Rhaenyra confidently, “We can settle Prince Jacaerys’ betrothal, if that would suffice the Council’s … appetite for another wedding.” Otto then nodded his head, open to what the Crown Princess had to say. 

“I propose we wed Jacaerys to Helaena, further securing our two Houses.” continued Rhaenyra, she then turned to look at Alicent, “Helaena would become Queen when Jacaerys ascends to the Iron Throne after me.” 

“An auspicious proposal, daughter.” said Viserys with a smile excitedly, before Alicent could even respond. 

…

Helaena Targaryen lay in her bed on her side, nearly in a fetal position, facing outwardly to the bedroom windows. The morning light had quickly entered the room, giving her bedroom a warm golden glow. She was on the edge of her bed, her hands underneath her face, arms and knees close to her body. She felt fingers caress her hip, moving up the side of her body. Helaena closed her eyes. Her brother, Aemond, had awoken. 

Aemond propped up on his side, getting a better look of Helaena. She had her bed sheet covering most of her body, up to her shoulders. Aemond’s hand was under the sheet, and he slowly pulled down the sheet to her waist. Her shoulders were bare but warm to the touch. Aemond reached around her torso to her breasts. Helaena winced uncomfortably. She inched closer to the edge of the bed. Aemond’s fingers and hands were cold as he held Helaena’s breast. He paused, noticing how she was inching away from him. 

Aemond grabbed her shoulder and pulled her onto her back, looming over her. The two stared into one another’s eyes, but Helaena looked away, and turned her head. 

“I want to get dressed.” she said softly. Aemond examined her facial features, from her eyes, down her nose, to her lips. He got on top of her, spreading her legs open with his. His long hair draped down, touching Helaena’s face and neck. Aemond reached down between her legs, beginning to rub her, slipping a finger inside her. Helaena exhaled, “Stop” she whispered. 

“I want you.” whispered Aemond, “You’re mine.” he began kissing Helaena’s neck, and she closed her eyes again, wincing. Aemond was laying fully on top of her, she could not move. She didn’t know whether to touch him to push him off or grab at anything else to avoid touching him even further. He reached his hand down to his cock, positioning himself in her, and began to thrust inside her. Helaena squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away from Aemond. He grunted as he fucked her, with hard thrusts, causing the bed to creak. He was hurting her, and he did not care. Helaena gripped the bed sheets tightly, her fingers and arms tense like iron. It didn’t take long for Aemond to reach climax, pulling out and groaning loudly as he came all over her stomach and chest. 

The Prince slumped beside the Princess, catching his breath deeply. Helaena remained still, as if she were frozen, and kept her eyes shut. She wanted it to all be over, to have him gone. 

…

Lunch was being served and Rhaenyra was having the meal with her father, and her father alone. Rhaenyra couldn’t remember the last time she dined with her father alone. It was a rare occurrence, especially ever since he remarried. But the King made a special request that he dine with his first born. 

The father and daughter sat at opposite ends of a long table. The servants brought out sliced mutton chops, a variety of steamed vegetables, and boiled potatoes with butter. Rhaenyra hadn’t eaten mutton in months. She mostly ate seafood while on Dragonstone, as that was far more readily available. 

“Have you spent some time with Aegon?” asked Viserys tiredly, as he slowly tried to cut the meat in his place. Rhaenyra drank wine from her goblet. 

“He was with me when I saw you yesterday, while you were resting.” she answered bluntly. 

“Ah,” said the King, “perhaps spend more time with him.” Rhaenyra missed her father, but she did not miss this part of him. The unsolicited advice and suggestions. 

“Doing what, might I ask?” there was a snappy tone to Rhaenyra, and Viserys immediately noticed. 

“Tomorrow, he is going to be your husband,” he said firmly. 

“And soon I will be his Queen, not consort.” responded Rhaenyra sharply.

“Do you intend to have more children?” asked Viserys, and Rhaenyra dropped her fork on her plate and scoffed with a laugh of disbelief. 

“I have an heir, if that’s your concern. Have you forgotten?” 

“It would be wise to legitimize the marriage.” said the King in response with simplicity. 

“The small crown placed on his head will be enough legitimacy.” she said, shaking her head, and continued to eat her meal. Viserys was saddened that his daughter was feeling so attacked and vulnerable. He did not mean to come after so directly. 

“I want this to be as painless as possible, dear daughter.” Viserys coughed, and donned a small smile. Rhaenyra looked up, seeing a tear swell in his eye that wasn’t covered by his mask. 

“Then why do this?” she urged, “Why put me through this?” 

“I dreamed…” he said with an exhale, “I dreamed what would come.” Rhaenyra shook her head, not fully understanding. “Terrible things, war, destruction, death…” he added. 

“From me remaining unmarried?” Rhaenyra was in disbelief, mostly. 

“Of you becoming ruling Queen.” 

There was a pause of silence between the King and Crown Princess. Rhaenyra stared at her father, her resolve softening. 

“I am not blind to the fact that the Realm will constantly question your ability to rule… your right to rule…” added the King, “I dreamed of the Seven Kingdoms tumbling into the most devastating civil war.”

“And you think marrying Aegon and I would prevent that?” she asked curiously, “Because the Hightowers have always been keen on idolizing Aegon. Alicent has continuously instigated the rumors of my children not being legitimate!” she said furiously, “That is why I left for Dragonstone, father…” 

“I know…” mumbled Viserys sadly. 

“They cut me with their whispers…” Rhaenyra choked up on her words, “And my children hear it.” 

“I am trying to make things right, now.” added the King, “Your marriage to Aegon is for duty, it is for the stability of the Crown and the Realm. Once you are crowned Queen, you can focus on whatever you care for.” 

“We shall see about that.” Rhaenyra took a long sip of wine from her cup. 

…

Queen Alicent went to the Tower of the Hand to look for her father, finding him in his office packing a large trunk with his clothes. She stood in the doorway,

“What are you doing?” she asked, not even greeting her father. Otto looked over his shoulder, pausing his packing with a folded tunic shirt in his hands. 

“Preparing for my departure.” he said, putting the tunic in the large trunk. There were more clothes on the bed, already folded by his servants. 

“Departure? To where?” questioned the Queen, entering the room. Otto smirked as he continued packing and chuckled. 

“Home. Oldtown.” 

“Care to be more elaborative?” pressed Alicent, her eyes widening. 

“I know that my time as Hand will come to an end the second that the King abdicates.” sighed Otto, “I am of no use here, not anymore.” 

“Surely, you will remain Hand until the Princess acclimates to her new role.” said Alicent, “And I thought your duty here was unfinished…” 

“Everything I’ve done, was to protect our family. You. Your children.” Otto stood over his packed trunk. His Lord Hand pin sat on the corner of the trunk and he stared at it. “Rhaenyra is unpredictable. I do not trust her. I fear for your children’s safety once she becomes Queen.” Alicent let out a loud sigh and began pacing around the room. 

“Haven’t I heard enough of this?” she put her hands on her hips. She was beginning to feel anxious. “There is nothing I can do or say to get through to the King. It truly does not matter that her children are bastards. Her heir, the next King of the Seven Kingdoms, is a bastard.” she exclaimed. Otto turned to look at his daughter. She was raising her voice quite loudly. 

“Aegon must be King.” he insisted, “Or there will be bloodshed.” Alicent stared in shock at her father. “Rhaenyra as Queen will have him killed.” 

“You are mad.” scoffed Alicent. 

“Remember all those years ago what I told you when I was first sent away by the King.” he stepped closer to her daughter, looking down at her. 

“Rhaenyra does not want Aegon as her husband, that much is clear. She does not want any husband, because any man would take the throne from her.” 

“As you are trying to instigate with my son.” Alicent was confused. What side was her father on? What was he trying to gain from all of this scheming and plotting? Otto grabbed Alicent by her upper arms, holding her tight. 

“You must leave this city whence Rhaenyra becomes Queen and is crowned. Return home to Oldtown. It will no longer be safe here.” he said. Alicent could only stare back at him, she did not like this feeling. 

…

Aegon sat slouched in a chair at the head of a long dining table in the middle of the night, pouring red wine into a cup from a pitcher. He poured the wine right to the rim of the cup, with just a drop of red wine overflowing. Aegon used a finger to catch the drop as it ran down the side of the cup, then licking it off his finger. The castle was finally quiet now, with just the sound of a crackling fire behind him. He finished dinner hours ago, alone. His father the King ate dinner very early as he went to bed far before the sun even set, his mother took her dinner in her own apartments. Helaena… well she would eat with their father, and then she would off to her room. 

This was Aegon’s third cup of wine, and he was already feeling the effects of the alcohol. But he did not think he was entirely drunk just yet. He didn’t like to completely lose himself from wine, but just go far enough. He took a big gulp from the cup of wine, letting out a deep exhale once he put the cup down. 

“Late dinner, brother?” Aemond said from the other end of the room. Aegon looked up, he wasn’t expecting to see his younger brother. 

“Nay. Just a drink.” shrugged the elder Prince. Aemond walked into the dining room. There weren’t any other cups at the table, so Aemond took Aegon’s, and took a sip. Aegon wanted to stop him, but let him have a drink anyway. 

“Very bitter.” noted Aemond, putting down the cup. 

“It’s an acquired taste, brother.” said Aegon, “Besides, the stronger the taste, the quicker the ecstasy…” he began to grin. 

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Aemond put his hands on the back of the chair next to Aegon, leaning against it. Aegon’s smile instantly disappeared. 

“I do not want to exist tomorrow.” he said in a mumbling voice. “I do not think anyone knows what to do with me.” Aegon tapped his fingers against his half-empty cup. 

“It will take time to settle, yes. But you are just fulfilling a role, like all of us.” said the younger Prince. 

“Rhaenyra does not care for me. I clearly do not exist in her eyes.” 

Aemond looked at Aegon’s eyes, he kept them low, but they were somewhat saddened. 

“Do you care for her? I did not think you did.” said Aemond, and Aegon shrugged his shoulders. Aegon rubbed his eyes stressfully and shook his head. He began to laugh, 

“Perhaps I ought to get on a ship and sail away, sail far, far away.” Aemond could see the turmoil in Aegon’s eyes. “Then you can marry her!” Aegon laughed drunkenly. 

“You’re drunk, brother. You need sleep.” said Aemond. Aegon reached across the table to Aemond, grabbing his sleeve. 

“I’m nothing to them…” he burped, “I am nothing.” 

“Calm yourself, Aegon.” Aemond said softly, “You will be alright.” Aegon stared blankly into space. His eyes began to water. Aemond moved the chair and sat down next to his brother, “You are not nothing. You are a Targaryen. You are Aegon.” 

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

It was the day of the wedding between Crown Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon Targaryen, and the city was well aware of the momentous ceremony. The main avenues leading up to the Red Keep saw the arrival of numerous regal carriages carrying the great lords and ladies across all Seven Kingdoms. Caravans of knights with each carriage, armored and protectors of their lords. The streets were also filled with more vendors and merchants than usual, as the wedding also attracted more common folk to the area. 

“The Realm’s Delight is to be wedded today! Get your fresh sweets here!” called out a pastry vendor into the bustling street. Children ran along happily with one another, eager to see the shining armored knights march with the carriages up to the Red Keep. Streamers and Targaryen banners hung high across the streets from house to house. Trumpets blared in the distance from the gates of the Red Keep. 

...

Inside the Red Keep, it was just as bustling as outside its walls. Groups of servants preparing for the feast in the throne room, hauling carts filled with flowers and decorations, some carrying multiple chairs at a time, and some carrying tables to set up. The ceremony and dinner feast were to be held in the Red Keep entirely, rather than the ceremony being at the Great Sept. The decorations were nearly complete, with finishing touches being made. The floors were being swept, and tables set with cutlery, intricately folded napkin cloths, flower centerpieces, and candles lit. 

“I was surprised by all of this.” Princess Rhaenys helped Rhaenyra get ready for her wedding, tying a few laces on the back of Rhaenyra’s dress. Rhaenyra was given a white dress, decorated with dragon-like scales across the torso. It was sleeveless, with an ornate golden necklace around her neck. Rhaenys had on a deep blue and gold dress, her platinum silver hair braided into an elaborate bun. 

“Imagine how I felt,” said Rhaenyra with a lighthearted chuckle. But her amusement immediately disappeared. “I was at peace on Dragonstone.” she continued, facing the array of open balcony doors. They were in Rhaenyra’s old bedroom, with a pair of young servant girls waiting aside patiently to braid the Crown Princess’s hair. 

“As was I, at Driftmark.” smirked Rhaenys. “I thought I’d be able to finally escape this place.”

“Do the memories haunt you like they do to me?” asked Rhaenyra softly. Rhaenys finished lacing the back of Rhaenyra’s dress. She gently pulled Rhaenyra’s hair off from the front of her chest to have it cascade down her back. It was flowing and soft as silk. Rhaenys began to part some of her hair to braid. 

“Too many to count,” said the elder Princess, “But… ‘tis the way things are.” 

“Do you-” Rhaenyra paused, “do you think it will be difficult for me?” Rhaenys stopped fixing the Princess’s hair and put her hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. 

“Never has a King abdicated,” she began, “and never has there been a ruling Queen. Do I worry how the Realm will react upon hearing that the King will abdicate? Yes, I do.” Rhaenyra looked at her, her father’s older cousin, the original heir to the Iron Throne after King Jaehaerys. Rhaenys fixed a loose hair that draped in front of Rhaenyra’s face, “But you must remain strong, confident, and instill fear in these little men.” Rhaenyra nodded and smiled, feeling more reassured. 

“I would like you on my Small Council, Princess,” said Rhaenyra, “when I become Queen.” Rhaenys felt grateful and smiled. 

“I would be honored.” 

…

As the evening approached, the dinner festivities began. Most of the King’s court had arrived at the Red Keep and were escorted to the throne room. There was a small band of violinists and cellists that played a smooth and soft melody, seated at one far corner of the grandiose hall. There were four long tables running parallel to one another, within the central space of the hall. A single long table sat perpendicular to the other tables, at the base of the steps to the Iron Throne itself, which was where the royal family would sit. The members of the King’s court were beginning to find their seats as they mingled with one another. In attendance were notable faces from around the Seven Kingdoms; members of the Small Council of course, such as Lord Jasper Wylde the Master of Law, Lord Jason Lannister the Master of Coin. There were the Tyrells as well, the young matriarch Lady Elinor Tyrell with her toddler boy that she served as Regent for, she was joined with over half a dozen cousins that took up an entire end of a table. The Lannisters were accompanied with some of their vassal lords from Houses Kester, Payne, and Marbrand; all men at least middle-aged with most of them sporting far younger wives. Then nearest to the royals’ table were the Starks. The young Lord Cregan Stark, just twenty-four years of age, joined by a host of other far older Northern lords. The young wolf had no siblings, nor did he have a wife. Many called him the lone wolf behind his back, but Cregan Stark was well aware of the whispers. The Northerners were not as in the festive mood as the others, as they truly did not like visiting the South. However, Lord Stark was fiercely loyal to the Crown, he never forgot any oath sworn by him or his late-father. 

There was a ring of a bell near the main doors of the throne room, gaining everyone’s attention. The royal family had arrived. 

“Presenting his lordship, Lord Corlys of House Velaryon, and his lady-wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen!” the male announcer bellowed, and the doors opened. Entering the throne room were Corlys and Rhaenys side by side, with Baela and Rhaena following close behind. This was all too familiar for Rhaenys, bringing her back to the night of her son Laenor’s wedding many years ago. The Velaryon-Targaryen couple was met with applause as they entered, and the announcer continued. 

“Presenting the Princes Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon.” then entered the three sons of Rhaenyra. 

“Presenting the Prince Aemond, and Princess Helaena.” then entered the two middle children of the King and Queen. 

“Presenting her grace the Queen Alicent, with his grace King Viserys the Peaceful!” then came the Queen and the King. Alicent stood close by King Viserys’s side, as he stood hunched over, slowly walking into the crowded room with a cane. Alicent wanted to hold Viserys by his forearm, but he refused. He wanted to walk by himself. The crowded hall of lords and ladies applauded even louder as the King and Queen entered, slowly making their way to the table at the far end of the throne room. 

In the dimly lit hall outside the throne room waited Prince Aegon. He had yet to be announced to enter, and also had to wait for his new wife. He stood nervously pacing around with a pair of Kingsguard. He could hear the muffled chatter and murmur of the guests just in the other room. The Prince wore a black suit, with gold buttons, golden epaulets on his shoulders, and a deep red cape pinned with a silver Targaryen sigil pin on his upper chest. 

What seemed like an army of handmaidens and young servant girls came from the nearby stairwell. Aegon stopped pacing around. They were all Rhaenyra’s handmaidens. There were over a dozen of them, all with dark hair and their eyes low to the floor. His heart was racing, uncontrollably. He held his hands together nervously behind his back. 

Last came the Princess. Rhaenyra looked down to watch her step, holding up her dress slightly to avoid tripping. There were silver and golden glimmers shining on the Princess’s dress as she passed by the torchlights on the wall. Aegon could barely breathe, he felt frozen. Rhaenyra’s long hair was braided eloquently into a diamond-like bun on the back of her head. She had a white-translucent veil on the back side of her head, cascading down towards her upper back, crowned with a gold and silver tiara. She was stunning and beautiful, Aegon could not look away. 

Rhaenyra walked up to her betrothed, holding out her arm. Aegon looked down at her opened arm, as she waited for him to interlock his arm with hers. 

“Shall we?” she said. Aegon took her arm, and the two walked side by side towards the main throne room door. There were numerous knights lining the hall leading to the main door. Aegon’s heart was racing, he was surprised he wasn’t trembling entirely. Aegon held onto Rhaenyra tightly as they waited for the door to open. Rhaenyra glanced at him, and he was staring forward. She didn’t realize that he would be this nervous. Perhaps it was the attention they were about to receive, or maybe the fact they were about to be married. 

The heavy doors croaked and creaked as they were pulled open from the inside. 

“Presenting her grace, the Heir to the Iron Throne, Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her betrothed, Prince Aegon Targaryen!” the room erupted into applause and a light cheer. Aegon held his breath, and stepped forward at the same time as Rhaenyra. 

Pentos

It was late in the afternoon in the city of Pentos, and many patrons were frequenting the city’s most popular brothel. The brothel had a main lounge chamber with a tavern where drinks were being served to the countless men frequenting the business. This brothel saw mostly noblemen and the wealthy of Pentos, and even foreigners that were merely stopping by the city. One of those foreigners who made the city his home as of late, was the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen. 

Daemon Targaryen sat leaned back in an ottoman, with a cup of white Pentoshi wine in his hand, off in a corner of the main lounge. He watched a woman dancing half naked in front of a group of three young men. The woman wore a translucent scarf around her waist and hips like a makeshift skirt, with a similar scarf around her breasts that hung loosely. Two of the young men watching were acting like hounds in front of fresh meat, calling out to the girl to have her dance on them closely. Daemon kept an eye on the third young man, who was quieter and kept to himself, but seemed to be enjoying the dance somewhat. The two other men were unabashedly rubbing their cocks through their loose pants, nearly begging for the dancer to come to them. Daemon looked at the third young man. He had dirty blond hair, brown eyes, a pointed rigid nose, and dark eyebrows. He was most certainly reserved. Daemon couldn’t look away, he admired the young man’s eyes, and then looked down at the rest of his body. He tried to imagine what the rest of his body looked like, surely toned arms, a sculpted torso, maybe some body hair. 

The dancing girl sat on one of the older gentlemen, as if she were riding him. The man grabbed her breasts under the scarf she wore. He reached for a kiss, but she continued wriggling her body as she moved in some kind of dance. Daemon looked at the blond young man again, and the two were looking right at one another. Daemon smirked and gestured for him to come over, so he did. 

“Not your type?” asked Daemon, patting for the young man to sit on the side of the ottoman with him, and he did. 

“Too flagrant, I think, for me,” he said nervously. The young man had to be in his late teens or perhaps early twenties. Daemon could smell his cologne, and was attracted to it. 

“And what do you like?” asked the Prince. The young man could tell that the Prince was outwardly admiring him, looking at him with sensual eyes. He looked around nervously. There were many other patrons in the main lounge hall, but they were all very preoccupied with stripping dancers, and some engaging in sex off in dark corners already. 

“Valyrian features, I’d say,” he said flirtatiously. Daemon bit his lip as he smirked. He ran a finger across the young man’s jawline, stopping at his chin to pull him a bit closer. 

“Name?” he asked. 

“Arrett.” he answered, scooting closer to Daemon on the ottoman. 

“Hmm…” Daemon then touched Arrett’s hair, tucking some long strands behind his ear. Arrett’s hair could just cover his ears, but not long enough that it reached past his jawline or neck. It was slightly curly. 

“Are you a prince?” asked Arrett quietly. He was enjoying Daemon’s soft caresses. Daemon shrugged, 

“I don’t think that matters.” he sighed, sitting up on his side. Daemon put one hand on Arrett’s thigh closest to him, squeezing it. Daemon began to rub his thigh, moving his hand closer to his groin, pushing up his long shirt in the process. Arrett and Daemon’s faces leaned closer together, their noses just inches away from one another. Daemon stared at Arrett’s plump lips, breathing lightly on them. Arrett was entranced, tilting his head to move in closer. Daemon kissed him, but then pulled back. Arrett leaned forward, opening his eyes widely, he wanted more. Daemon smirked. He grabbed Arrett’s bulge furiously, and kissed him again. 

Arrett moved in closer, pushing Daemon onto his back. Daemon pulled Arrett over onto his body, and the young blond sat on top of his groin. Arrett exhaled with pleasure upon immediately feeling a hard cock beneath him. Daemon grinned, putting his hand around the back of Arrett’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. The two were interlocked as they kissed one another, and Arrett began to grind his hips against Daemon’s hardening cock. 

“Do you want to give me that dragon seed?” whispered Arrett to Daemon in between kisses, and Daemon nodded. “I want it.” 

Daemon pushed Arrett onto an old and narrow bed in a dark room down the hall from the main lounge hall. The prince unbuckled his belt as Arrett took off his clothes. Daemon was mesmerized by Arrett’s body, he was toned but had some softness to him. Daemon laid on top of Arrett, kissing him furiously from his lips down his neck, and down his chest and torso. Arrett pushed Daemon to the side so he could get on top again, and Daemon was pleased to be on his back. Arrett returned the favor of kisses, beginning at the prince’s lips, down his neck, down the center of his chest, and down to his cock. Daemon let out a gasp of pleasure as Arrett began to suck him. He rested his head back in ecstasy, slowly moving his hips rhythmically as Arrett sucked and stroked his cock. 

Arrett stopped and looked at Daemon who propped his head up. Arrett began to smile, “Better than any princess I bet.” Daemon hesitated. As Arrett moved on top of Daemon, he could only think of one princess… Rhaenyra. Arrett slowly sat on Daemon’s cock, inserting it into himself, and moaning in pleasure. Daemon was now a bit distracted… but Arrett felt amazing, and he tried to snap out of it. 

Daemon sat up, pushing himself deeper inside Arrett, and wrapped his arms around his back. Arrett began to move harder, and Daemon helped move his body back and forth on his cock. Daemon breathed heavily as he fucked Arrett harder, kissing his neck and chest. Arrett threw his head back in pleasure, 

“Yes, fuck me like a dragon.” moaned Arrett. 

… 

Daemon sat on the edge of the small bed, waiting patiently as Arrett got himself dressed. They were both sweaty, and Daemon felt like taking a scalding hot bath. Arrett noticed that the prince seemed to be in his own head, staring blankly at the floor. Once Arrett fixed his shirt he stepped in front of Daemon, using a finger to lift up his chin. 

“I liked that.” he said, and Daemon scoffed. Daemon broke eye contact with the young blond. “I meant it. I’d like to do that again sometime… my prince.” 

“Don’t you have to go with your fellows?” sighed Daemon. 

“I can do whatever I please.” shrugged Arrett, “But we will be in Pentos for a while.” Arrett bent down to kiss Daemon on his lips, and Daemon kissed him back. Arrett smiled. “I heard today is the Westerosi Princess’s wedding. It is the talk of the town.” Daemon turned away and got up. He started to button his shirt. 

“Goodnight, Arrett.” he said coldly, heading for the doorway. Arrett’s smile disappeared, and he stood aimlessly in the middle of the dark room. Within seconds, the Prince left. 

King’s Landing

Rhaenyra and Aegon sat side by side next to King Viserys at the center of their dining table, in the throne room of the Red Keep. The wedding ceremony itself was quick, the High Septon got it done and over with, much to both the spouses’ desires. Now, it was just dinner and then the night would soon be over. Most of the royals were still seated at their table, finishing their desserts as the wedding guests had taken to the open floor to dance. The music was cheery and folkish, garnering many dancers on the main floor. Rhaenyra was picking at her pie on her plate with remorse and boredom, watching the guests engage in spinning and happy dances. 

Rhaenyra smiled once she saw that her sons Luke and Joffrey were dancing with one another gleefully. Joffrey held onto his older brother’s hands, making Luke spin around and around to the beat of the music. She then turned to look at her father, who was laughing quietly. The King was also watching Joffrey and Luke dance together. He had a weak smile, it wasn’t one that Rhaenyra saw often. Looking past the King, Rhaenyra made eye contact with Alicent. She was sitting on the other side of the King, she had cut up pieces of his pie to ease his time eating it. She had one hand on the King’s pale wrist. 

Prince Jacaerys was seated on the side with Rhaenyra and Aegon, but walked behind her, the King, and the Queen. Rhaenyra noticed, and watched him. Jacaerys was wearing a fitted black and silver suit, with a red cape as well. He stopped at Princess Helaena, who was seated beside Queen Alicent. Rhaenyra could not hear what Jacaerys was saying. Helaena turned around, her face lighting up upon seeing Jacaerys. Jacaerys held out his hand - he was asking her to dance. Helaena took his hand and stood up to join him at the main floor. 

Rhaenyra watched her eldest son hold Helaena’s hand as they walked over to the dance floor, joining the others. They stood face to face, and began to match each other’s movements. Rhaenyra was beginning to feel better, her heart warming. Helaena could not contain or restrain her grin as the dance sped up with Jace, the two leaping from side to side, spinning around one another, grazing touches and looks. Nor could Jace contain his happiness. 

“They are a good match,” King Viserys said, turning his head to Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra nodded in agreement. It was obvious that Jace and Helaena, at the very least, enjoyed each other’s company. “Aren’t they?” he asked. 

“Aye, they are.” exhaled Rhaenyra with some relief. Rhaenyra looked past her father at Alicent. She kept her head low, focusing on her plate of food she did not finish. Rhaenyra did not know why Alicent seemed so saddened, but it did pain her slightly. At the far end of the table, Rhaenyra saw the Hand. Otto was watching the young pair dancing very intently. She wondered what Otto must have said to Alicent as of late about everything that was happening. Otto was quiet and kept to himself, but he seemed to be enjoying seeing his granddaughter dance with excitement. 

Aemond, on the other hand, watched Helaena and Jace with irritation. The middle prince was not pleased at all, he was feeling rage, but he did not show it. Aemond was always clever with hiding his emotions. He was still as a statue, seated next to his brother Aegon. Aegon looked at his brother, however, and could tell something was afoot. 

“Go dance,” said Aegon, half-jokingly. Aemond shook his head subtly but did not say anything in response. 

“The night is soon to be over.” muttered Aemond. He took a long drink from his cup of wine. Aegon looked to where Aemond was staring, and noticed Jacaerys dancing with Helaena. The two were holding hands now as they danced in unison, with smiles on their faces. Aemond got up abruptly, leaving the table and heading for one of the side doorways. 

…

The night was soon over indeed. The guests gave their congratulations to the married Crown Princess and Prince, as did the family. The King was brought to his bedchambers by the Queen and his Kingsguard. The Velaryons retired to their guest apartments in the castle. And now, Rhaenyra and Aegon were being brought to their new bedchambers. Apparently they weren’t going to pick either of Rhaenyra or Aegon’s current rooms, and were given a newly refurbished one. Rhaenyra and Aegon made no eye contact nor spoke a word to one another as they walked to their new apartment. 

Rhaenyra stood near a standing mirror in the corner of the large main room, unbraiding much of her hair relatively quickly. Aegon was examining and exploring the room. The main room had a small dining table with four chairs, one wall lined with bookshelves, another with a mural of ancient Valyria. There were arch windows and balcony doors leading out to a small veranda that overlooked the city. The soft golden glow of the nightscape crept into the bedroom, joined by the lit sconces and candelabras. On one side were a set of light windowed doors, and in the room was the bed with a handful of dressers and old armoires. Rhaenyra peeked over her shoulder, seeing Aegon stand in the doorway to the bedroom, looking around the room. He took of his shoes, kicking them across the room, and he let out a relaxed sigh. Rhaenyra then faced the mirror again, and started unlacing the back of her dress. 

She was able to get the first couple laces, but she couldn’t reach the middle of her back or any lower. She grunted annoyedly. Aegon walked over, 

“May I?” The two looked at one another through the mirror. Rhaenyra nodded. Aegon stepped closer to his wife’s back, and started untying the dress’s laces. He was gentle and slow, afraid of making the knots worse somehow. As he continued opening up the dress, more of Rhaenyra’s bare back became visible. Aegon’s eyes darted between admiring her back and the laces he still had to untie. He finally reached the last one and stepped back. 

“Would you like a robe?” asked Aegon softly. Rhaenyra shook her head no, and then slipped the dress down off her shoulders. The Princess did have underwear on, much to Aegon’s surprise. He was nervous, and eyed Rhaenyra’s body from her shoulders, down her back, and down her legs. Her underwear was thin and small, hugging onto her skin. Rhaenyra turned around, taking in a deep breath. She eyed Aegon’s black suit, 

“Shall I?” she offered. Aegon shook his head. Rhaenyra stepped up to her husband, and began unfastening the pinned cape. She tossed it onto a nearby chair. Then she began unfastening his buttons, starting at his collar. She had to unfold some of the fabric, but it was far easier than her own dress. 

“If only they made gowns this easy to take off.” she muttered, and Aegon chuckled. He peered down, following Rhaenyra’s hands as she got down to his torso. The two looked up at the same time, making eye contact with one another. Aegon was just barely taller than Rhaenyra, so their eyes met near perfectly. His suit coat was entirely unbuttoned. Rhaenyra opened it further, sliding one half off of Aegon’s shoulder, and then the other. Rhaenyra stared at Aegon’s bare chest. His skin appeared soft as well. His chest was relatively toned, as was his abdomen. 

“I can do the rest.” whispered Aegon, not wanting to make Rhaenyra uncomfortable. She nodded, perhaps that was for the best. The two were just staring at one another. Aegon reached out to Rhaenyra’s face. He held his fingers just at her cheek, gently touching her. Rhaenyra reached out as well, moving a loose strand of hair out of Aegon’s face. She tucked it behind his right ear, and then trailed her fingers down his jawline. Aegon stepped closer to Rhaenyra, his hand on her neck firmly but sensually. He put his other hand around her lower back, pulling her in close. His bare chest touched her breasts. Aegon’s eyes darted between Rhaenyra’s eyes, lips, nose, and back at her eyes. He did not know where to look, as all of her features were stunning. 

“I’ve always found you beautiful,” he said softly. Rhaenyra scoffed in disbelief. “I tell my truth.” he added. Rhaenyra ran her fingers down Aegon’s chest, feeling his skin. She didn’t mind that his hand was on her lower back, and his other around the back of her neck. Rhaenyra could now see that Aegon meant what he said, he was being serious. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra gently, pressing his lips onto hers. At first she didn’t give into the kiss, but then began to kiss him in return. 

After just a few seconds of kissing, Rhaenyra pulled back and took in a shaky deep breath. 

“I’d like to go to sleep now.” she said, removing her hands from Aegon’s smooth chest and face. Aegon let Rhaenyra step back, and nodded. He watched as she walked into the bedroom. She kept her underwear on, heaved off the heavy blankets, and climbed into the large bed. Aegon assumed that nothing further was to happen between them that night, and perhaps that was for the best. He headed into the bedroom as well. He took off his pants, kicking them off to the sides of the room like he did with his shoes. He had just on a light, loose, pair of underwear on, and got into bed as well. 

Aegon lay on the left side of the bed, and Rhaenyra on the right. There was about a foot of space between them. Aegon lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, was on her side, with her back to Aegon. Aegon let out a deep exhale and closed his eyes, wanting to sleep now as well. It had been a long day. Rhaenyra, however, remained awake. She could see the windows and through the windows she saw the moon. The moon… it reminded her of her mother. If only her mother were still here… 

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

The coronation of Rhaenyra Targaryen as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms came just two days after her wedding to Prince Aegon. The coronation took place in the Dragonpit, with over ten thousand spectators in the arena’s seating. There hadn’t been such a spectacle of a coronation since Maegor the Cruel, nor had there been so many citizens in attendance. The commoners were confused as to why King Viserys abdicated, they were never told the entirety of his condition, rather that he was growing sick and old. There were whispers that this did not look well for House Targaryen, that a true man and a true King would never give up his throne… However, the smallfolk had a love and adoration for Rhaenyra, often calling her the Realm’s Delight. On the other hand, the noble houses across all of the Seven Kingdoms knew better than to question why the former King abdicated… 

The hall leading up to the Small Council room was lined with knights of the Kingsguard. There were many new knights in the ranks, as now there needed to be far more protection for the current ruling sovereign, Queen Rhaenyra the First. 

Queen Rhaenyra walked with confidence down the hallway towards the Small Council Room. She wore a long black dress with a deep red cloak on her back. This was her first Small Council meeting, and she was also wearing her crown - the golden crown of Jaehaerys. A pair of Kingsguard knights opened the door to the chamber, and Rhaenyra swiftly entered. 

Each of the council members rose up from their seats, and there were additional attendees standing around the table. 

“Your grace,” chimed all of the men and women in the room. There were the usual Small Council members; Queen Dowager Alicent, Grand Maester Orwyle, Master of Coin Lord Beesbury, Master of Law Lord Wylde, Master of Ships Lord Velaryon, and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Harrold Westerling. Standing around the table were additional guests at the request of the Queen; Princess Rhaenys, Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena, Prince Jacaerys, and Prince Lucerys. 

The Queen made her way to her seat at the head of the table, where her father once sat for decades. All of the members at the table took their seats once the Queen sat down. There was a single empty chair, one that is reserved for the Hand of the monarch. 

“Good morrow, everyone.” began Rhaenyra, “I presume it would be best to begin with the obvious absence.” Everyone noticed the empty chair for the Lord Hand. Alicent lowered her head in shame. “Lord Otto Hightower has resigned as Hand, and has returned to Oldtown.” Rhaenyra was interrupted by the main doors opening again, with a loud creak. Everyone turned their heads to look and see. It was Aegon, walking in late to the meeting, remorsefully. 

“My apologies, your grace.” said Aegon, looking across the room to his wife. Rhaenyra nodded, 

“Good of you for joining us.” she said. Aegon was not sure where to sit. He saw the empty chair, but on the chair was engraved the insignia of the Lord Hand. So, he decided to stand off to the side behind his Queen. 

“As I was saying,” continued the Queen, “that leaves the position of Hand unfilled. Lord Otto had served my father, grandsire, and the Realm with dedication and love, but it is time for change.” in front of Rhaenyra on the table was a small wooden box. She stood up and picked up the box, “It did not take much thought to decide on who should hold this position while I rule and govern.” She opened the box, and inside was the pin of the Hand. She looked across the room, 

“Princess Rhaenys,” the elder royal walked around the table over to Rhaenyra’s side. Rhaenyra faced her father’s cousin and presented the pin, “you are intelligent and experienced, I would be most fortunate to utilize your wisdom and aid. I name you Hand of the Queen, if you accept.” 

“I accept, your grace. I am honored.” Rhaenys curtsied and bowed her head. Rhaenyra then carefully pinned the Hand pin on Rhaenys’ upper chest, on her black button-down gown. The other members and individuals in the room applauded for the Princess and new Lady Hand. Rhaenyra gestured for Rhaenys to take the empty seat beside her, and she did gratefully. 

“Moving forward,” Rhaenyra cleared her throat, “lies the matter of my husband, and his title.” Aegon stood silently with his hands behind his back. He suddenly felt all the eyes in the room on him, except for his wife’s. He felt his mother’s stare the most. “I open the table to discuss the matter.” Rhaenyra was indeed curious to hear what members of her council had to say about this. Aegon after all was marrying the Queen, and normally would be called the King, but he wasn’t exactly the ruling King. 

“If I may, your grace,” Lord Jasper Wylde spoke up, “typically the spouse of the Queen is titled King. But, I do recognize there is no precedent of having a ruling Queen. Perhaps we style him as King Consort.”

“A King has always been seen as the ruling sovereign,” said Lord Corlys, seated at the far end of the table, “and in this case, we do not have one. We have a ruling Queen. In order to prevent any confusion, I propose we denote Prince Aegon, as his grace Prince Consort.” 

“I concur with Lord Corlys.” said the elderly Lord Beesbury, “We must tread carefully and choose the safer route.” 

“Safer route?” questioned the Grand Maester, “Do we anticipate tension?” 

“It wouldn’t be unwise to anticipate some kind of questioning,” posited Princess Rhaenys, “there will be some… straggling lords who will have to get accustomed to all of this.” Rhaenyra nodded in agreement. She turned to look at Alicent, who was still quiet. 

“Alicent? What are your thoughts?” asked Rhaenyra. Alicent wasn’t expecting to be called upon, and she truly did not have a hard opinion ready. 

“I do not necessarily detest Lord Corlys’s idea,” spoke the Dowager Queen, “but I fear how the Realm will view the Crown… and the image of Aegon.” 

“What about my image?” jumped in Aegon, staring directly at his mother. “I am capable of defending myself.” 

“Does the Prince have an opinion on the matter at hand?” asked Lord Wylde. All eyes were once again on Aegon. Aegon stammered nervously, 

“I… I support what the Queen decides.” he said. Rhaenyra wasn’t expecting that. “I do not want to be King.” added Aegon. Rhaenyra was now truly surprised. 

“Then it is settled.” concluded the Queen, “Aegon shall be styled as his grace, Prince Consort. And the Prince Consort shall be granted a seat on the Small Council.” a couple of Kingsguard quickly scrambled in the corners of the room, finding a spare chair. They put the extra chair at the other head of the table. Aegon walked over to the seat and sat down. He looked across the table to his wife, and she nodded at him with a small smile. He nodded back with a smirk. He had never been at the Small Council table, nor really at any Small Council meetings. He had no reason to be present before, but now, it would be one of his greatest duties. 

“I would like to move onto the next matter at hand,” continued the Queen, “Dragonstone.” She looked across the room, making eye contact with her eldest son, Jacaerys. “Dragonstone always falls to the heir of the Iron Throne, and as the next heir, Prince Jacaerys shall be given Dragonstone as his home. In the following week, we shall discuss and plan the details of the Prince’s wedding to Princess Helaena.” she glanced at Alicent. The Queen Dowager nodded, in what seemed like an acceptance from defeat. Rhaenys stared at Alicent, curious as to why the Dowager Queen was so quiet and not opinionated whatsoever. 

“And finally, I would like to invite the Great Houses back to the Red Keep, for each and every Lord to reaffirm their loyalty to the Crown… to me.” said Rhaenyra sternly. 

“That can be done at once, your grace.” reassured Princess Rhaenys. 

King Viserys sat in a cushioned chair with his legs propped up on an ottoman, being fed porridge by Queen Dowager Alicent. The King was given a new apartment, it was just as large as his previous rooms, plenty of windows to let in sunlight and fresh air, but it was a few floors below Rhaenyra’s rooms. Viserys breathed heavily between each spoonful of porridge from Alicent. He did not have his mask on, but bandages were wrapped around his eye and cheek to conceal his deformities. There was a knock at the door. 

“Ent-” Viserys coughed, “Enter.” he said in almost a whisper. 

“Enter.” said Alicent more clearly and loudly. The apartment door opened, with Ser Criston stepping inside, 

“Your graces, it is the Queen Rhaenyra.” Viserys smiled weakly as he turned his head, watching Rhaenyra enter the room. 

“Alicent,” greeted Rhaenyra flatly, “Father. How are you feeling?” she stood beside her father, taking his hand in hers. Viserys’ hand was cold as ice. 

“Fine, and tired…” muttered the former King, “I heard you held Small Council.” 

“Yes, our first one.” nodded Rhaenyra. She pulled up a chair to sit beside her father and step-mother. Alicent silently stirred the porridge that she held in her hands still. “We had to settle Aegon’s title, and we are bringing back the Great Houses to reaffirm their pledge to me as Queen. I named Princess Rhaenys as Hand.” 

“Good, good.” nodded Viserys. 

“Aegon is Prince Consort.” chimed in Alicent. Viserys was intrigued. 

“How did the council take it?” 

“It was Lord Corlys who suggested it. Lord Jasper suggested calling him King…” explained Rhaenyra, “But I do not think that would have bode well in my favor in the long run. I fear they would see him as my equal, or perhaps, as the ruler.” 

“How did Aegon take this?” asked Viserys. 

“He voiced his support to be Prince Consort.” answered the Queen. 

“Much to all of our surprise.” added Alicent, with a light chuckle, and Rhaenyra chuckled as well. 

“Have you heard from Daemon at all?” asked Rhaenyra. Viserys looked at his daughter with a blank stare. 

“Daemon…” he mumbled, “Daemon.” he repeated, but this time with more severity in his voice. Rhaenyra looked over at Alicent, and the two women shared a look of concern. Rhaenyra knew that Daemon hadn’t reached out, he wasn’t the type to send his well wishes or share updates on  his life. He was a lone dragon. “Daemon…” Viserys whispered sadly, and he lowered his head. He then shook his head no. 

“We last heard he was seen at Pentos.” mentioned Alicent, and Viserys nodded in agreement. 

“Right, Pentos.” he added. 

“I do wonder if he realizes all that has happened.” sighed Rhaenyra. 

Prince Jacaerys walked by himself through the halls of the Red Keep, having just finished lunch with his younger brothers. He hadn’t roamed the halls in years, since he was just a child. It eerily felt similar and nostalgic, the same brick walls and stained glass windows that he remember growing up within. But, the air felt different as well. The halls felt darker. Perhaps the innocence and charm of childhood had faded away, and adulthood dulled everything around him. He didn’t want to think too much of it, which was why he was on his way to see Helaena. Jacaerys enjoyed spending time with the Princess, even though she was his aunt, he was just a year younger than her. 

Jace turned a corner and was approaching the Princess’s bedchambers. He was surprised to see that there weren’t any Kingsguard in the hall outside the door, as there was supposed to be at all times. Each child of the sovereign was guaranteed at least a single knight of the Kingsguard for their protection that would often stand outside their room. Perhaps Helaena was not in her bedchamber. Jace heard muffled voices. He walked slowly up to the door, putting his ear closer to the door to listen.

“He’s a child, he’s nothing, he can’t give you what I can.” he heard from the inside, a man’s voice. Jace furrowed his eyebrows, he didn’t hear Helaena at all. 

“I- I’m sorry…” Now he heard the Princess. Jace gently put his hand on the door handle, attempting to turn it as quiet and slowly as he could. It was locked. Jace had to get inside, and he began to shake the door handle. 

“Helaena? Are you in there? It’s Jacaerys.” he said loudly, trying to push open the door. He shook the handle more, and then heard a rush of footsteps to the door. Helaena opened the door, smiling upon seeing Jace. 

“Jacaerys, forgive me for my lateness.” she said nervously. Jacaerys scanned the room behind her… there wasn’t anyone there that he could see. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, “May I come in?”

“Y-yes.” she stuttered, and Jace walked in. He didn’t have his sword or any weapon to defend himself or protect Helaena. The windows were wide open, with the curtains slightly billowing from the wind. Jace kept looking around the room, slowly pacing around. Helaena’s table in the middle of the room had a pile of books, which was unsurprising. There was a couple small books on the floor, and Helaena quickly picked them up to put them with the rest on the table.

“Well I came to ask if you’d like to walk through the gardens with me.” he said, turning to face the Princess. Helaena held her hands together, 

“That would be idyllic.” she said approvingly. 

...

  “Dreamfyre is old in age but doesn’t show it.” said Helaena as she walked beside Jacaerys in the Royal Gardens, just below the Red Keep. The gardens were on a slight hill with winding paths and neatly trimmed topiaries. There weren’t many flowers blooming as spring had passed and it was the middle of summer. 

“How does an old dragon not show age?” chuckled Jacaerys, walking closely beside her. He looked at Helaena’s smile as she began to explain herself. 

“Well, she isn’t sagging and wrinkling like Vhagar,” laughed Helaena, “she’s … chirpy. She has a personality. But I haven’t flown on her in weeks.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“My mother thinks it is unbecoming of a princess to ride a dragon.” said Helaena with a subtle sigh. 

“You’re not any princess, you’re a Targaryen princess, it is in your blood to ride a dragon.” insisted Jace. 

“Some nights I can hear Dreamfyre’s singing … all the way from the Dragonpit.” Helaena picked at her fingernails as she held her hands in front of herself. 

“She must be calling you,” said Jacaerys, “and now, your mother is not in charge.” Helaena stopped upon spotting a single rose in a nearby bush. She walked over to it, touching the outer petals of the red rose. Jacaerys stood by her and watched her gentle hands touch the flower. 

“Are roses your favorite?” he asked, and Helaena nodded. 

“They are soft, their colors usually deep and saturated.” she said, as she admired the single rose. Jacaerys reached for the rose and pinched the stem just above the thorns, and picked it. Helaena gasped. Jace put the rose above her right ear, pinning the end of the short stem in her wrap of braided hair. Helaena looked into Jace’s eyes as he fixed the rose, ensuring it wouldn’t slip or fall. He was attentive with her, and then he smiled once finished. 

“You look beautiful.” he said quietly, and the Princess blushed. She quickly continued walking down the path, and Jace followed at her side. 

“I would like to change things up a bit, perhaps call a great council.” Rhaenyra said as she sat with her Hand, Princess Rhaenys, enjoying tea and scones in the lounge area of her royal apartments. “Call all the great lords and ladies since they’ll be here to reaffirm their loyalty to me.” 

“You wish to alter the government?” asked Rhaenys curiously. 

“I believe we need to set things in stone, especially matters of the Crown, precedents, the line of succession.” added the Queen. Rhaenyra sat comfortable on a leather cushioned seat, in a less restricting gown with a low cut on her collar. It was a deep red color with silver embroidered dragons along the collar. 

“What do you envision changing?” asked Rhaenys, taking a sip of tea from her white porcelain cup. The Hand also wore a less formal attire, a fitted black light coat and black skirt, with the pin of the Hand on her chest as usual. 

“Perhaps a formal charter, outlining our powers, the powers of the Crown, the sanctities of the Seven Kingdoms.” explained the Queen, “And each noble House signs this document to pledge fealty to it.” Rhaenys began to smile, she was impressed with Rhaenyra’s idea.

“You are optimistic, your grace, I think that is a proper idea.” Rhaenyra nodded happily and took a bite of her scone. 

“But, truthfully,” continued Rhaenyra, “Lord Beesbury’s words stick with me.”

“About Aegon’s title?” 

“About how the Realm will view him, and his power and role.” Rhaenyra’s smile was gone, as now her nerves were beginning to take over. Rhaenys put down her cup of tea on the table between her and Rhaenyra. She leaned forward, 

“You will feel more assured once they pledge their fealty to you, once more. And if not, we will investigate any whispers of dissent and confusion about your authority and role.” 

Rhaenyra retired to her apartments to get ready for dinner, with her four personal knights of the Kingsguard posted outside her doors, she was alone in her room. The sun was beginning to set, and she was already tired, it had been a long day. She stood in front of her standing mirror once again, taking off a heavy necklace of gold and silver. She put the necklace down on a nearby vanity stand, where there was a box of jewels, necklaces, rings, and bracelets. 

The door opened, startling Rhaenyra, and she turned her head. It was Aegon, and the door shut behind him. 

“Did I startle you?” he asked. 

“A knock would be nice,” she said with an exhale of relief. She faced the mirror again and started taking off her bracelets. Aegon walked through the room, past the two couches facing one another, and stopped in the doorway to their bedroom. 

“Thank you,” said Rhaenyra, looking down at one of her bracelets as she tried to unfasten it with one hand. 

“For?” asked Aegon. 

“Supporting me at the Small Council this morning.” she said, and Aegon looked at her, “Putting an end to that debate.” 

“Oh it was no debate,” shrugged Aegon, “they should be mindful of what they say.” 

“Either way, you possibly prevented much further tension,” said the Queen, glancing at her husband. Aegon nodded, 

“I do not want to be King, of any kind.” Rhaenyra nodded back and smiled, and then continued to fumble her bracelet. It wasn’t unlatching, and Aegon noticed. He walked over to her, holding out his hand. 

“Let me help you,” he said. Rhaenyra looked at his opened hand, and with hesitation put her wrist in his hand. His hands were warm and soft, and he quickly was able to unlatch the bracelet. She looked at his focused eyes as he took off her bracelet. He then tossed it recklessly onto the vanity table. 

“Done.” he smiled, looking back at Rhaenyra. She was staring at him. 

“How come you’ve not…” Rhaenyra gulped, “demanded things on our wedding night.” he tilted his head, confused. “We didn’t consummate the marriage.” she said, looking away, as if she were ashamed of it. Aegon then understood and shook his head. 

“I did not want to force anything.” he said quietly, “Besides, we do not have to prove anything to anyone. You don’t have to prove anything. You are the Queen. You have heirs.” 

“Does that bother you at all?” asked the Queen innocently with wide eyes, “That they are my sons. My son will be King next.” 

“It does not, and it should not.” he responded plainly, “I know you did not want any of this.” he laughed lightly and awkwardly. “I know you love Dragonstone.” Rhaenyra nodded, 

“It was quiet on Dragonstone, much quieter. Just me and my boys.” she walked over to the seating area and sat on one of the couches, holding her hands together nervously. “I had gotten used to the quietness. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach could be heard from nearly any window in the castle. But here… I am constantly surrounded by people.” 

“Oh,” Aegon stammered, “would you rather be alone? I can leave-”

“No, no, I just meant in general.” said Rhaenyra. Aegon had an air of innocence to him, and Rhaenyra could easily see it. He was an aloof man, but that wasn’t a bad thing. He walked over to the couch Rhaenyra was sitting at and sat beside her. Aegon put his hand on Rhaenyra’s knee, caressing her, and moving his hand up her thigh. The two looked at one another, and she put her hand on his cheek. His face was smoothly shaved. Aegon stared deeply into Rhaenyra’s hazel green eyes. And Rhaenyra stared deeply into Aegon’s blue eyes. The Prince leaned forward, inching his lips closer to Rhaenyra’s, and she closed her eyes. He held his lips just a hair’s length away from hers, his breath soft on her. Aegon put his hand on the side of Rhaenyra’s face and his fingers behind her ears, deep in her long hair, pulling her closer to kiss her. 

Rhaenyra’s hand ran down Aegon’s face, down his neck, and she felt the top of his chest through his opened shirt. She started to unbutton his shirt and he tugged at her dress, pulling it down from her shoulders. Rhaenyra reached for the back top laces of her dress and easily untied them, loosening her dress. Aegon threw off his shirt. Rhaenyra began to lean back on the couch horizontally and Aegon moved on top of her. 

Aegon stopped kissing her and took a moment to admire his wife. His eyes moved from her eyes, down to her lips, and back to her eyes. Rhaenyra held both her hands on Aegon’s face, doing the same to him with her own eyes. He was laying between her legs, and he realized his pants were unbuttoned. Rhaenyra’s dress sat loosely just at her breasts, and he started to pull the dress further down. He kept looking at Rhaenyra, worried she would disapprove and tell him to stop. But she did not. Aegon cupped his hand on one of her breasts, slightly squeezing, and then rubbing his hand further down her torso. He leaned forward, kissing her chest between her breasts, moving downward. He pushed down Rhaenyra’s dress, down to the lower half of her body. As Aegon continued to kiss her body slowly and thoroughly, she ran her fingers through his hair. He stopped at her lower belly, and crawled his way back up to her face. 

Aegon lay flatly on top of Rhaenyra, his body pressing against hers. She could feel his bulge pressing right on her groin, but her dress was covering that part of her body still. He began to kiss Rhaenyra’s neck and ear, and she leaned her head back on the pillow underneath her. He pushed his hips into hers, pressing his bulge onto her harder. She could sense him losing control, desiring her more, his primal instinct revealing itself. Aegon exhaled loudly as he kissed all up and down her neck more furiously. The Prince lowered one hand down Rhaenyra’s body, slipping it underneath her dress, closer to her groin. She stopped him, and Aegon immediately stopped kissing her, realizing what she was doing. He lifted himself up a bit to look at Rhaenyra. 

“We should get to dinner,” she whispered. Aegon nodded subtly and pulled himself off of his wife. Rhaenyra lifted her dress to cover her breasts and sat up. She looked away from Aegon and headed into the bedroom to change into a different gown. Aegon sat on the couch, slouching slightly, and watched Rhaenyra undress herself fully. Perhaps he went too far this time, perhaps she wasn’t ready, he thought. The Prince rubbed his eyes and forehead, he got up, and figured he should change as well, but waited until Rhaenyra was finished. 

Chapter Text

Pentos

Palace of Princes

The Palace of Princes sat on the outskirts of the city of Pentos, on a sparse parcel of land separated from the smallfolk. The palace was more of a bastion, with thick stone walls, square in overall shape, and four large towers at each corner with domed roofs. It was the home of the ruler of Pentos, the Prince, and has been the guest home for Prince Daemon as well. The Prince of Pentos was an old man who greatly respected House Targaryen and had no issue with Prince Daemon staying in his home. 

Word of Rhaenyra’s coronation quickly spread across the Narrow Sea to Pentos, sparking questions of a woman’s ability to rule. Daemon heard these questions and whispers in the Pentoshi Prince’s own royal court, which he scarcely attended. He had no desire to be in court, as the reason why he fled King’s Landing was to avoid court there. However, whenever curious, Daemon would watch the Prince hold court or meet with his advisors in his throne room from the side.

“I think this is wondrous for Westeros,” a middle aged Pentoshi magister spoke proudly as he sat at a semi-circular table that was placed in front of the Prince’s throne. The Prince of Pentos’ throne was a gilded seat with rubies along its upper frame, it was not as intimidating as many thrones in the Seven Kingdoms, but it was certainly ornate and displayed wealth. “Volantis and Norvos have recently ascended women rulers, as you may already know, my Prince.” the middle aged Pentoshi magister had a thick brown beard and long brown hair neatly tied into a bun. He was named Magister Rottis.

There were just three other men at the table; they served as the Prince’s Inner Circle, an advisory council similar to the Small Council. The Prince himself sat with a cane leaning on the side of his gilded throne. Prince Gyrant Artevor sat on the Pentoshi throne for fifty three years, and was in early seventies, but was still sharp. Prince Gyrant had a neatly trimmed white beard just a few inches long, the hair on his head was fully white from old age and braided into three neat braids tied together. He wore gold and bronze robes, and sported a few rings on his right hand. 

“I find it amusing.” scoffed another magister at the table, he was older, his skin pale and wrinkled, “A woman’s duty is to her family, her motherhood.” named Magister Tyrris. The third magister let out a bellowing laugh. 

“Stuck in tradition are we?” he asked. The third Magister was the youngest, in his mid thirties, with slick blond hair, named Magister Ballant, “Either way. This provides us an opportunity.” Prince Gyrant raised a brow, interested in what the young Magister had to say. 

“Do elaborate.” said Magister Tyrris, irritably. 

“I’ve heard whispers of dissent with the Westerosi Queen, that she is not legitimate to rule. It is an uncommon sight to witness the abdication of a monarch, I do not think this has ever happened in recent memory. Let us just say that the Westerosi Queen shall be quite distracted at home. And this… this shall be the opportune moment to … fill our bellies.” 

“You speak of war?” Prince Gyrant leaned forward, “War profiteering?” Magister Ballant nodded, 

“Yes, your highness. I have heard from my contacts in Myr and Tyrosh that they are eager to restart their campaigns in the Stepstones.” 

“I see no value in the Stepstones unless you wish to fish and hunt for crabs.” sighed Magister Rottis. 

“There have been sellsword companies recently bankrolled and supported by the Iron Bank.” continued Ballant. 

“I’ve heard no such thing,” said Rottis. 

“Please inform us of the objective here, Magister Ballant. You wish to wage war on the Seven Kingdoms? And their dozens of dragons?” Magister Tyrris was nearly flabbergasted. He was always stunned by the ideas of the younger Magister Ballant. 

“No. And no, they do not have dozens.” corrected Ballant, “And we have one here of our own, might I add.” 

“I think you speak of a run at death.” Magister Rottis shook his head. 

“I only propose this: we make an attempt at retaking the Stepstones in order to establish an outpost stronghold. That is all, my Prince.” Ballant looked at Prince Gyrant. The elder Prince was scratching his beard. The other Magisters looked up at the Prince, waiting for his opinion on the matter. 

“Pentos has never been directly engaged in a war, at least not in centuries.” said the Prince, “Our city-state has been prosperous, at peace, the people content. You wish to put that all at risk, Magister?” Prince Gyrant looked down at Ballant. Ballant’s mouth crept into a smile, 

“Only for a chance at even more prosperity, my Prince.” 

King’s Landing

Iron Throne Room

Queen Rhaenyra sat with her back straight on the Iron Throne before a full court of noblemen and women, and nearly the entire royal family. The Queen sat in a black gown, wearing her father’s golden crown, and most of her hair cascading down her shoulders. Standing at the end of the throne’s steps six knights of the Kingsguard, including Lord Commander Harrold Westerling. Three stood on each side of the aisle leading up to the throne. In front of the knights stood the Hand to the Queen, Princess Rhaenys. Rhaenys stood with a calm expression on her face. Off to Rhaenys’ right side was Prince Aegon, and off to her left, were the rest of her family; Princes Aemond, Jacaerys, Lucerys, the Queen Dowager, Princess Helaena, Ladies Baela and Rhaena, and Lord Corlys Velaryon. It appeared as if the Queen had a battalion of a family at her guard. In the middle of the open space before the throne was a small wooden desk, a sheet of parchment paper, a small bottle of ink and a quill.

Presented before the Queen were four men and two women; they were each Wardens of six of the seven kingdoms. The men included Lord Cregan Stark of the North, Lord Jason Lannister of the West, Lord Borros Baratheon of the Stormlands, and the elderly Lord Grover Tully of the Riverlands. The two women were Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Vale, and Lady Regent Elinor Tyrell of the Reach. Elinor Tyrell stood as the Regent of the Reach, as her son and the ruling Lord of the Reach was just a couple years old. 

At present, only the Prince of Dorne was not present. The remainder of the throne room was filled with many lesser lords and ladies, such as the vassals of the Wardens that were present. 

“Before you is the first article of the Royal Charter,” announced Queen Rhaenyra, “it states that the Great Houses of Westeros are to be loyal to the Crown of House Targaryen, to serve and protect both the Crown and the Realm as a whole. This first article of the Royal Charter also codifies the rule of succession, that the Iron Throne passes to the eldest heir of the monarch, no matter the sex.” 

“And not only will each of you sign this formal document,” joined Princess Rhaenys, “but will reaffirm your pledge to bend the knee to Queen Rhaenyra as your ruling Queen.” Rhaenys walked over to the desk and picked up the quill. She dipped it in the ink, preparing for the first signature. 

“Lord Grover Tully,” Queen Rhaenyra called, “please sign the Royal Charter.” Grover Tully was the end of the line, shortest of all the lords and ladies, and a man in his eighties. He made his way with his white wooden cane to the desk and took the quill from Princess Rhaenys. He leaned over the desk and signed his name at the end of the document. 

“I, Lord Grover Tully, Warden of the Riverlands, recognize and pledge my obeisance to the Queen, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.” Grover Tully slowly got down on one knee, and bowed his head. 

“I, Lady Jeyne Arryn, Warden of the Vale, recognize and pledge my obeisance to the Queen, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.” 

“I, Lord Jason Lannister, Warden of the West, recognize and pledge my obeisance to the Queen, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.” 

“I, Lady Elinor Tyrell, Warden of the Reach, recognize and pledge my obeisance to the Queen, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.” 

“I, Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North, recognize and pledge my obeisance to the Queen, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.” 

Then, Lord Borros was last to sign, and then bend the knee, 

“I, Lord Borros Baratheon, Warden of the Stormlands, recognize and pledge my obeisance to the Queen, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.” he nearly hesitated once saying his name, but clearly repeated the pledge as the others did. Rhaenyra felt an enormous sense of relief once they concluded their pledges. 

The Small Council 

“Dorne is the problem here, your grace. They continue to ignore our orders - your orders.” Princess Rhaenys said to Rhaenyra as members of the Small Council entered the Small Council chamber, quickly following the session of court. 

“We must take them to heel.” chimed in Lord Corlys, “Their flagrant disregard for the Crown has gone on long enough.” 

“That, I agree.” said Rhaenyra, taking her seat. Aegon sat at her left along with his mother, and Rhaenys at her right. Jacaerys stood off to the side of the room. As heir, it was his duty to sit-in on Small Council meetings and take in all that he could. One day, this would be his duty to lead. Walking into the room was not an official member of the Small Council, but a family member - Prince Aemond. Rhaenyra was not expecting her half-brother to attend. 

“Your grace,” Aemond greeted, bowing his head respectfully as he stood at the other end of the table, “I would like to propose a solution.” 

“Speak your mind then.” said Rhaenyra, she was a bit reluctant. Aemond was often hot-headed and reckless. 

“Send me to Sunspear to demand the Prince’s loyalty and pledge, with Vhagar.” said Aemond bluntly. Each of the members at the table stared at Aemond as if he had three heads, including Rhaenyra. She was not often a proponent of using physical means to display forces of strength. However, it was not a radical idea… 

“And threaten to burn the country?” scoffed Lord Wylde with a chuckle. Aemond glared at the Master of Laws with irritation, but then back at Rhaenyra. 

“Let us not act hastily,” scolded Alicent, directing it at her son. 

“Dorne has never fully submitted ever since the Conquest.” noted Rhaenyra, “This must be the time they do.” 

“Might I remind, your grace,” said Rhaenys, “that during the Conquest, Dorne was successful in killing dragons.” The Hand was nervous, and so were many of the others. They all remember the stories of the viciousness of the war in Dorne. Most notably, Aegon the Conqueror’s second wife, Queen Rhaenys, and her dragon Meraxes were killed in Dorne from a shot of a scorpion bolt. 

“This behavior will only stir questions of my authority from the other provinces,” said Rhaenyra. She looked over at her husband, Prince Aegon, “What are your thoughts?” 

“I say we go to Dorne.” said Aegon confidently, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. 

“I shall go as well.” Prince Jacaerys stepped in, and received a look of apprehension from his mother. Jacaerys had never gone on any sort of diplomatic mission, with his dragon, on his own before. 

“Fine.” accepted Rhaenyra, “But, you are to speak with Prince Qoren and discover his intentions for subverting the Crown. That is all, is that understood?” she looked at Aemond first, and Aemond bowed his head. Then she looked at Jace, and he did the same. Lastly, Rhaenyra looked at her Prince husband, and Aegon nodded understandingly. 

“We shall be emissaries.” said Aegon with contentment. He was excited to go on this mission, essentially an adventure. 

“I presume we shall just take our dragons,” added Aemond, “in order to get there quickly, without a convoy of soldiers.” 

“Aye.” agreed Rhaenyra, “I remind the both of you to look after my son.” she said to Aegon and Aemond. 

“Of course.” smirked Aemond subtly.

The Great Sept

Queen Dowager Alicent Hightower decided to spend her evening at the Great Sept, offering prayers to the Seven, as her sons would be off to Dorne on the morrow. Alicent was escorted to the Great Sept with her Kingsguard detail, led by Ser Criston Cole, and was composed of five other knights. Her grandiose carriage waited at the bottom of the grand steps of the Sept, and she quickly went inside. 

Alicent knelt before the central candle table, with a lit match to light a few candles. She reached to the first candle to light it at the wick, 

“Alerie Florent,” she whispered, dedicating the candle and her consequential prayer to her late mother. She prayed to the Father, the God representing divine justice and the souls of the dead. Alicent’s memory of her mother was beginning to fade after all of these years since her death. She did remember her mother having red hair, like a low burning fire. It was where she got the auburn color in her own hair. But she did not remember what color her mother’s eyes were. They were not a light color, they were dark. She could only picture her father’s dark brown eyes. Alicent’s breath shuddered as she inhaled. Her head was starting to hurt, thinking of her mother not here any longer, and now her father… all she had here were her sons and daughter… Aegon and Helaena were fully enamored and engulfed by Rhaenyra and her family… and Aemond… well Aemond was just on his own like always. 

Alicent opened her eyes and raised her head from concluding her prayer for her mother. Across the grand chamber, she saw Ser Criston looking at her. He was standing pensively like a statue, one hand on the sheath of his sword at his belt. 

Alicent walked with just Ser Criston out of the main hall of the Seven, towards the confessional booths. Since it was the evening, all the Septons and Septas had gone home for the day. There were only Kingsguard knights present in the building. The confessional booths lined a long hallway, with small slit windows on the other side. The confessional booths were made of a dark, thick, wood. The booths had ornate wooden carvings and support beams, they each had two entrances, one side for the Septon and the other for a parisher. 

Alicent stopped in the middle of the hallway, reminiscing of the day she first came to the Great Sept, decades ago as a child. It was during King Jaehaerys’ reign when her father became Hand to the King. She would be brought to the Great Sept, without much say for herself, and occasionally confess to a Septon. But as a child, there wasn’t much to confess. Sure, she occasionally yelled at her brothers for petty, childish things, but what child didn’t? Now, Alicent’s mind flooded with a myriad of things she could confess. It was making her anxious. 

Alicent turned around to leave, but was stopped by Ser Criston. He grabbed her wrist and she glared up at him. The Dowager Queen did not say anything to Ser Criston, hoping her irritated expression on her face would ward him off. He seemed to like her response. Criston wrapped his hand around Alicent’s lower back. 

“What are you doing?” whispered Alicent, gritting her teeth. 

“You seem tense, your grace.” he whispered back, standing close to her. 

“Why does it matter to you?” she hissed. She tried pushing Criston’s hand off her lower back, but he did not budge. 

“You are letting that whore get to you.” Criston looked down at Alicent, and she shook her head confusingly. 

“Rhaenyra?” she asked, and he nodded. Alicent scoffed, unsure what to say to that. She knew Criston had a strong disliking to the Queen… but it was a grudge he seemed to hold onto for years now. 

“I don’t know what you expect of me, if anything.” added Alicent. Her eyes were beginning to swell with tears, “I have no power…not anymore.” 

The Red Keep

“I am honored to have received this invitation, your graces.” Lord Cregan Stark bowed his head before sitting down at a dining table with Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon. The evening had quickly come and the Queen wanted to treat with just one of the great noble lords of the Seven Kingdoms, one she knew she could trust. After all, a Northerner never forgets an oath. 

“It is our pleasure,” smiled Queen Rhaenyra, taking her seat at the head of the table. Aegon sat on the Queen’s left, and the young Cregan sat at her right. 

“I must admit, my men were weary of coming to dine with you on my own.” chuckled Cregan as he settled in his seat comfortably. Rhaenyra put down her napkin cloth on her lap and looked at the young Stark curiously. 

“And why is that?” she laughed lightly. 

“Ah well you know how Northerners are,” he sighed, “we’re weary of everyone who isn’t us.” Aegon waved to the nearby cupbearer to have him pour everyone some wine. They gave the Queen wine first, then he moved to Prince Aegon. Aegon let the boy fill the cup to the rim, and then the servant walked over to Cregan. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but notice how much wine Aegon was drinking, but tried to ignore it. 

“Regardless of instincts,” said the Queen, “I do not think there is any other more trustworthy House, if we are to be frank with one another.” 

“That means a lot to me, your grace.” nodded Cregan gratefully, “I consider us all lucky to have yet another kind yet stern individual on the Iron Throne.” Aegon stared at Cregan as he was looking at Rhaenyra longingly. Rhaenyra smiled and blushed slightly, 

“Well, I am sure you know why I called you here to dinner.” 

“Dorne.” answered Cregan. 

“And just Dorne.” noted Aegon, after taking a long sip of wine. 

“Yes…” said Rhaenyra, “Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond, and my son Prince Jacaerys will be going to Dorne at daybreak to meet with Prince Qoren at Sunspear. Only to inquire as to why he did not come to the capital.” 

“The Dornish have never respected your House’s authority, your grace,” said Cregan. The food was served from a handful of servants. The Queen was served first, the Prince Aegon, and then Lord Cregan. “A mission to inquire their intentions is wise.” he looked at Aegon with an approving look, yet Aegon didn’t seem to care for Cregan’s opinion. 

“We’ll intimidate with our dragons, that’ll at least shake an answer out of them,” said Aegon, “and if not, we’ll threaten with fire and blood.” Rhaenyra sighed and began to eat her meal. 

“Would you be prepared to commit to a war?” asked Cregan. 

“The Realm is in a good place economically and financially, I would not want to put that all at risk so soon.” explained Rhaenyra, “Nor put lives in harm’s way if there is a solution elsewhere.” 

“Whatever the path, House Stark and the North support you, your grace.” said Cregan kindly to the Queen. 

“Would you be prepared to send men, if necessary?” questioned Aegon. 

“If necessary, it would be possible.” said Cregan, shrugging his shoulders, “But I question our quickness if we are to trek from Winterfell all the way to Dorne.” 

“Then perhaps we should have invited the other Lords, too.” Aegon stared at Cregan, “Because what use is an army that is two thousand miles away?” Rhaenyra slammed her fork on her plate as she put it down. 

“Let me remind the Prince that it was Lord Cregan’s father who was the first to affirm my father’s claim to make me heir.” She said sternly, “House Stark is more important than many of us think.” Aegon took another long gulp of wine. 

“I can surely ready men that are near the Neck, since they are our furthest men south.” said Cregan, trying to ease the tension at the table. “Regardless of soldier readiness, let us pray that this does not become a conflict.” 

…

Dinner with the Lord of Winterfell was short, and the Queen and Prince Consort retired to their bedchambers. Aegon was nearly drunk, just a bit tipsy, having drank three cups of wine. Rhaenyra sat at her vanity table near her standing mirror, preparing for bed. She had a small bowl of cold water and a small towel, dipping the cloth in the water to then clean her face. She was in a nightgown, and had been ignoring Aegon as he changed as well but in the bedroom. The Queen felt annoyed and resentful towards Aegon. She kept glaring at him from the side of her eye. He was stumbling about the bedroom, having difficulty changing his shirt. 

“I consider ourselves all lucky…to have a Queen like you” Aegon said in a mocking tone, repeating some of the words of Lord Cregan. Rhaenyra stopped cleaning her face, hearing what her husband had said. Aegon began to laugh to himself. Rhaenyra twisted the wet cloth to get out the remaining water. She twisted the cloth hard until her fingers hurt, using it to get out some of her frustration. She slammed the cloth down on the vanity desk and walked over to the bedroom doorway. 

“If tonight was an image of how you intend to act during diplomacy, perhaps it would be best if you do not attend these sorts of meetings.” she said sharply. Aegon had managed to get his shirt off, but part of it hung off his right shoulder. He was only wearing underwear shorts, with the rest of his suit thrown across the floor. 

“That…” Aegon burped, “that was diplomacy? Forgive me, I could not see that through Lord Stark’s stares .” Rhaenyra cocked her head, confused. 

“I do hope you jest.” she said. Aegon chuckled in disbelief, but his wife kept a straight face. He stood at the foot of the bed, looking at his wife. 

“There is no point in courting the North, if there will be war in the far south, ” he said. 

“No, that is not what this is about.” Rhaenyra shrugged her shoulders, “You acted immaturely tonight. You acted beneath your title.” Aegon blinked his eyes as he stared at Rhaenyra, taking in what she just said. “And you are in no condition to fly on dragonback on the morrow.” she added. She turned around and walked into the living room, to the couches. There were a few books on the tea table between the couches, and she picked one up as she sat down. Aegon followed her out into the living room. 

“I am going to Dorne at daybreak,” he said furiously. 

“I am confident in Jacaerys and Aemond for the task.” said Rhaenyra, opening the book and beginning to read. Aegon stood aimlessly in the middle of the room, but Rhaenyra did not look at him. 

“I will make Dorne bend the knee.” insisted Aegon, “I will show you I am of more use than Cregan Stark.” Rhaenyra did not say anything to Aegon, nor did she even look at him. Aegon’s heart was starting to race. He walked around to the other couch, in Rhaenyra’s line of sight. 

“I saw how you look at him, and how he looks at you.” he said quietly. Rhaenyra sighed and looked up, tilting her head at Aegon. His hair was wriggly and a mess, multiple strands across his face. She waited. “I’m sure you would have welcomed a marriage to him rather than me,” he added. 

“And there it is,” said Rhaenyra softly. Aegon went over to Rhaenyra, standing in front of her. He looked down at her and she looked up at him, her eyes widening. She wanted to remain unbothered. But the more she looked into Aegon’s blue eyes, the more her heart softened. 

She shook her head and got up. 

“I am going to bed.” she said coldly. Aegon reached for Rhaenyra’s hand as she brushed past him, and she paused. She did not look at Aegon, but he held her hand. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Rhaenyra looked down, thinking to herself, and then decided to continue to bed. She removed herself from Aegon’s grasp, leaving him in the living room by himself.  

Chapter Text

King’s Landing 

Red Keep Entry Courtyard

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen stood on the high battlement walls of the Red Keep’s entry courtyard and gatehouse early in the morning. From the high hill that the Red Keep sat upon, she could see far out into the cityscape, and the Dragonpit off in the distance. Departing from the Dragonpit were Sunfyre and Vermax, with their riders, Princes Aegon and Jacaerys, respectively. Sunfyre let out a song-like call, chasing after the much quicker Vermax. The two dragons were heading south, crossing over the city. 

With a deep bellow from the clouds emerged Vhagar, descending down in a gliding manner over the city. Rhaenyra could feel the wind pick up as the massive dragon nearly created a wind current in her own right. Vhagar trailed behind the two smaller dragons, with Prince Aemond riding atop of her. Rhaenyra tapped her finger anxiously on the stone railing that she stood up against, watching the dragons get farther and farther from her sight. She prayed that they would be protected by the Gods on their journey to Sunspear, and prayed that the Dornish Prince would be reasonable and respectful. Deep down, she wished she was aback Syrax flying to Dorne with them. But, the Small Council would have fiercely protested. 

...

“I do not know if I’ll like Dragonstone, I have never stayed long enough to make that determination.” said Princess Helaena softly, as she sat at the bedside of her father, King Viserys. Even though it was early in the morning, the former King was barely awake. He had his bandages freshly changed and his wounds cleaned by the Grand Maester and the Silent Sisters. King Viserys grumbled, unable to put any words together. As Helaena sat and recounted her thoughts to her father, she was working on the embroidery of a black coat. 

“It seems cold and rainy, and I like the sunshine here.” added Helaena, pausing from her embroidery to look at her father. She inhaled deeply, saddened by the state of his health. A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought, “Enter.” she said loudly. The door opened and entered the Queen, with her Kingsguard remaining outside and shutting the door. 

“Your grace.” Helaena quickly got up to bow her head and Rhaenyra approached her. 

“Sweet sister,” the Queen kissed Helaena on her cheek, greeting her, and then looked at their father. “How is he?” 

“The Grand Maester did not say much,” Helaena sat back down beside Viserys, “just cleaned and changed the bandages. But he hasn’t spoken a word this morning.” Rhaenyra leaned closer to her father, kneeling at his bedside, and touched his hand. 

“Father,” whispered Rhaenyra, “it’s me, Rhaenyra.” Viserys turned his head from side to side slightly, muttering unrecognizable words. Rhaenyra’s hope of waking her father quickly disappeared. Rhaenyra went over to the nearby chair and sat down, still looking at her father. Behind her were wide open windows with an array of sunlight beaming down on her, warming her back and shoulders. 

“They wanted to give him milk of the poppy,” added Helaena, “but I asked if they could just wait.” Rhaenyra was surprised. 

“Oh,”

“But if you think he’s in pain, I can call the Grand Maester-”

“No, no, thank you, Helaena.” said Rhaenyra reassuringly, “I want him to be able to wake in his own mind… whenever that may be…” 

Oldtown

The Hightower

“He has grown so fast,” remarked Ser Otto Hightower about his grandson, as he stood beside his older brother, the Lord of Oldtown, Hubert Hightower. The two men stood on a balcony on the highest levels of the Hightower, the tallest structure in the Seven Kingdoms at eight hundred feet tall. The Hightower served as both a lighthouse for the Bay of Oldtown, and the seat of power for House Hightower. Lord Hubert and Ser Otto watched with amazement and awe as the young Prince Daeron Targaryen flew on his blue scaled dragon, Tessarion, over the bay. 

Tessarion was mostly covered in deep blue scales across his body, the undersides of his wings a pale sky-blue, his eyes gold, and his neck covered in three rows of fin-like tendrils. He was just larger than a sturdy horse, and was finally strong enough to carry his rider. 

“They call him the Knight of Oldtown’s Skies.” smiled Lord Hubert. The older brother of Otto was now seventy-two years old, his once-light brown hair fully whitened with age. Otto was approaching his seventies soon as well, however. The younger Hightower brother was just sixty-eight, yet his hair still held onto its darkness. Otto’s beard, however, was showing streaks of white. 

“Our protector,” added Lord Hubert, “his dragon is just as restless as he.” Tessarion and Daeron glided down from the clouds towards the Hightower. The blue dragon swooshed just meters away from the balcony that the Hightower men stood upon, circling down towards the rocky base of the tower and the shore. 

...

“I was surprised you left before the wedding, brother. It is unlike you to leave King Viserys like so.” noted Hubert, walking beside Otto down a set of stone stairs. The two were heading down to the main area of the living quarters, as breakfast was being prepared, and they were to dine with Daeron. Otto grumbled and shook his head, 

“It is all… surreal, to say the least.”

“But it was your idea to wed young Prince Aegon to the Crown Princess, was it not?” asked Hubert. 

“Aye. I did not think the King would consider it any further, after all, he declined the proposition nearly two decades ago.” answered Otto, “And that was to put Aegon on the Iron Throne, truthfully.” Hubert stopped Otto at the bottom of the steps in the hall. 

“Lords Tarly and Blackbar have come to me, seeking my opinion on this.” said the Lord, quietly and discreetly. 

“Opinion on what? The Queen?” asked Otto, and Hubert nodded, 

“They were going to meet with Lord Sedric Tyrell, but he recently passed… and his son-”

“Is a babe, so his mother sits as Regent of the Reach, yes, yes, I am aware.” said Otto shaking his head, “And what did Lords Tarly and Blackbar wish to petition to House Tyrell?” 

“They do not think Rhaenyra should sit on the throne.” said Hubert in a whisper, eyeing the halls up and down. 

“Are these lords truly speaking this into existence?” asked Otto, he was beginning to feel somewhat nervous. He never outright uttered an opinion on Rhaenyra’s fitness to serve as the ruling monarch, but it appeared others were. Hubert nodded his head. 

“If the Tarly’s and Blackbar’s are speaking of this,” continued Hubert, “surely there are other Houses doing the same.”

“She is a danger,” whispered Otto, “and she recognizes threats to her power and surely will ensure they are snuffed out immediately.”

“Grandsire!” called out a boy down the hall. Otto turned and saw Prince Daeron coming down the hall, his hair messy from the strong winds of flight. His platinum blond hair was long and reached his shoulders, styled similarly to Aemond’s. Daeron had a large grin on his face, eager to see his grandfather. Otto smiled, 

“My prince, I saw you out there.” 

“Oh, did you? What did you think?” Daeron stood between his grandfather and Lord Hubert. Daeron, just sixteen years old, had the confidence and brightness of a grown Targaryen man. He, of course, was accompanied by a pair of knights behind him. 

“You are to be an expert in flight soon enough, I think.” smiled Otto, patting Daeron on his shoulder.

“Are you here visiting?” asked Daeron innocently. 

“No, it appears I am back home, for now.” 

“How is mother?” the Prince asked impatiently. 

“She is well, very well.” 

“I wonder if she will visit one day, since she is not the Queen any longer.” pondered the young Prince, “Or I could fly to King’s Landing to visit, and see my brothers and sister, too.” 

“My boy,” laughed Lord Hubert, “you must let your young dragon rest! Crossing half a continent is far ahead of you.” Otto nodded in agreement. 

“Come, let us get dine together.” said Otto, and the three began to walk down the hall. 

The Stormlands

“Why are we stopping here to make camp? Storm’s End is not far from here, I think.” asked Prince Jacaerys, sliding off of Vermax’s back onto a grassy pasture. Before him was Aegon and Aemond unpacking large sacks. Vhagar was just about two dozen meters away, along the treeline of the forest that surrounded the pasture, already falling asleep. Sunfyre was in the pasture as well, circling around, patting down the tall grass to lie down as well. 

“I think it would be good for us to get fresh air, away from castles and lords, and sleep beneath the stars.” said Aemond. Aegon found a log and sat upon it, watching Aemond unpack his bag to take out a sleep-sack. 

“You’re fine with this?” asked Jace, looking at Aegon. 

“I am a bit tired of pleasantries with noble houses, to be frank.” admitted the Prince Consort. 

“We are going to need some firewood.” Aemond eyed Jace. Jace looked between him and Aegon. Aegon leaned back on the log, crossing one foot over the other to get comfortable. 

“Any inclination to participate?” asked Jace with annoyance at his step-father. 

“You’re not on the Iron Throne yet, my prince. Wood-fetching is not yet beneath you.” Aegon shook his shoulders. He reached into his bag and took out a small pouch. Inside he had some grapes and began to eat them. Jace sighed, and went walking off through the pasture towards the woods. Vermax began to follow Jace on the ground, chirping and grumbling as he followed his rider. 

...

Vhagar snored loudly and deeply by the time Jace returned with a handful of sticks, branches, and dried out logs. He assembled the wood in a pyramid fashion and instructed Vermax to light the wood with a single utter of “dracarys”. 

“I found a stream just to the west there,” pointed Jace as he began to take out his sleep sack from his bag. Vermax remained close to Jace and the fire, not wanting to be too far. “We could fish later in the day for our dinner.” Aegon and Aemond both stared into the flames, seemingly uninterested by what Jace had just said. The young dark haired prince sighed and sat on his opened sleep-sack on the grass. Jacaerys stared into the flames as well, and sat close enough to feel its warmth. He took off the sheathed sword at his belt and laid it next to his sleep-sack. 

“I hear word that you will soon move to Dragonstone.” said Aemond. Jace looked up. His uncle was carving a long stick with a small dagger, sharpening it. 

“Aye.” nodded Jace, “Eventually.” 

“Never good for a castle that large to sit unhoused,” said Aemond. 

“Angsty for me to leave King’s Landing, are you?” blurted Jace sarcastically. Aegon stopped eating his grapes and looked at the two with wide eyes. 

“I only assume you wish to get your life truly started with Helaena.” muttered Aemond, focusing intensely on the sharpening of the stick. 

“Well,” exhaled Jace, “I think that has been put on pause for the time being.”

“Surely thanks to the Dorne situation.” noted Aegon. 

“I do not think Helaena wishes to leave, regardless,” said Aemond. Jace gave a side eye look at Aemond. “But you… you are the Prince of Dragonstone. Cannot be the Prince of Dragonstone whilst not at Dragonstone…” 

“I will do whatever necessary to make Helaena happy at Dragonstone.” said Jace confidently. Aemond scoffed and laughed, with a grin on his face. 

“I don’t recall uttering a jest,” said Jace sternly. 

“Helaena will just have to adapt,” interrupted Aegon, trying to diffuse the tension, “just as the rest of us have. You’ll have to marry soon, too, little brother.” Aegon said, poking at Aemond with its words. Aemond’s smile disappeared. Jace wasn’t expecting to be somewhat defended by Aegon. 

“I’d rather not.” muttered Aemond. 

“You might be pleasantly surprised,” said Aegon, as he looked into the fire, “it isn’t all that bad.” Jace had no idea where Aegon was going to go with that line of thinking. He knew how crude and raunchy the Prince Consort could be. But, in recent weeks, he didn’t seem to be his old self. 

“I’m going for a walk.” Aemond said, standing up tall. He walked around the fire, going west. 

Pentos

Palace of Princes

Daemon was back in the Palace of Princes in his guest apartment, with a guest he snuck into the castle. The curtains of the tall windows were drawn, the main door locked, and barely any candles aflame. 

In his bedroom the Prince was fucking his recently-made friend, Ser Arrett. Daemon was atop of Arrett, thrusting his hips as he pounded Arrett roughly. The young knight laid on his stomach as Daemon fucked him from behind. Daemon’s hair dangled over his shoulders and in front of his face, pushing one hand on Arrett’s back. Arrett moaned and whimpered with each thrust from the Prince. Daemon was covered in sweat, his toned arms and chiseled back glistening from the nearby candlelight. 

“Flip me over.” groaned Arrett, wanting to look at Daemon while being fucked. Daemon grunted, 

“Fuck. No.” he grunted roughly. He did not want to change positions, as this was his most favorite. He was in total control, able to keep Arrett down on his face in the pillows. Daemon started to slow his thrusts but with each hump he pushed harder and deeper into Arrett. He felt himself coming close to climax. The Prince clenched his teeth as he slid his cock in Arrett harder, lowering himself to lay his chest on Arrett’s back. 

“Fuck.” muttered Daemon, pounding Arrett harder and faster now, “Fuck.” he exhaled loudly as he came inside him, slowing down. 

Daemon rolled off of Arrett onto his back on the side of the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, his hands across his torso, catching his breath. Arrett turned over to lay up against the Prince. Daemon eyed Arrett but was too tired to move. Arrett began caressing Daemon’s chest. 

“You know how to fuck… very well.” whispered Arrett with a smile. Daemon scoffed and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his wrist. 

“Comes with experience, I’d say,” he responded. Daemon closed his eyes, wanting to rest. 

“Will you be going back to Westeros?” asked the young knight bluntly. Daemon turned to look at him sharply. 

“What does it matter to you?” he questioned. 

“Relax yourself,” scoffed Arrett, “would it be absurd to tell you I enjoy your company?” Daemon looked away from Arrett and back up to the wooden ceiling. 

“Yes,” said the Prince. Daemon got up and picked up his pants to start putting them on. Arrett watched him get dressed, disappointedly. 

...

Prince Daemon ventured from his guest apartment in the Prince’s palace down to the dining hall where he was requested by Prince Gyrant. It was the middle of the day and Daemon was hungry for some food. The Pentoshi knew cuisine very well, specializing in seafood and also beef dishes. It was a change from the typical venison often served in King’s Landing. 

“Prince Daemon, good morrow,” the elderly Prince Gyrant said with a kind smile as Daemon entered the dining hall. Daemon walked over to the head of the table where Gyrant sat and bowed his head, 

“Prince Gyrant, as to you.” 

“Please let me introduce you to one of the members of my Inner Council,” Gyrant gestured to his right where the youngest member of his council stood, “Magister Deloro Ballant.” Deloro Ballant wore similar clothing to Prince Gyrant, long robes with gold and white linings, yet Ballant had far less jewelry on. Daemon immediately noticed a perfume on Ballant that was not too strong but a sweet scent. 

“It is an honor to meet you, my prince.” Deloro Ballant bowed his head and Daemon nodded. 

“Good to make your acquaintance, Magister.” The three men sat down at the table and the servants quickly brought out a handful of drinks and bowls of cut fruit for the first course of the meal. 

 “Magister Ballant here has brought to my attention a new interest of Pentos, in the form of the Stepstones.” said Prince Gyrant, eyeing the large bowl of mixed fruit placed in front of him by a servant. 

“The Stepstones…” muttered Daemon, “that is not a place I’ve thought of in quite some time, admittedly. Now… have you aligned yourself with the Triarchy?” Daemon eyed the Magister and the Pentoshi Prince. 

“The Triarchy is no more,” grumbled Prince Gyrant, clearing his throat. 

“Aye,” agreed Deloro Ballant, “its leadership has crumbled soon after your victory many years ago. But, its original mission remains… somewhat.” 

“Please remind me what that mission was?” smirked Daemon, folding his hands together on the table curiously. 

“To bring order to the orderless, of course.” grinned Magister Ballant. “There are key resources in the Stepstones, mines of silver and gold, very rare.”

“And if the Triarchy was unsuccessful in taking the Stepstones, what thinks you’ll change that?” asked the Westerosi Prince. 

“The alliance only grows. Yesterday it was just Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys. Today joins Pentos. Tomorrow, perhaps Volantis.”  Ballant began eating his fruit from the silver bowl in front of him. 

“Interesting alliance you are conjuring.” noted Daemon, “But what does this have to do with me?” 

“Do you want to return to Westeros? To King’s Landing?” asked Deloro Bellant bluntly. Daemon stared blankly, thinking of an answer. His hesitation was very clear as to how he felt about returning home. “In King’s Landing, you’ll just be another name to your ever-growing family.” leaned in the Magister, “with each heir born to the Queen, you are pushed down another rung in the ladder of importance.” Daemon didn’t know whether to feel offended or impressed. What Deloro Ballant said was not necessarily untrue. What role did he have in King’s Landing now?  

“I know not much about you, my Prince.” said Prince Gyrant, “But I do know much about Targaryens - and their lust for glorious battles and victories, showered in riches and women. There must be some part of you deep down that misses that fight. That urge.” 

“I admire your ambition, truly, I do.” exhaled Daemon with a sigh, “But activity in the Stepstones did not go unnoticed.” 

“Do you expect Queen Rhaenyra to get involved?” asked Prince Gyrant. 

“I suspect the Queen will be preoccupied with domestic matters.” said Deloro Ballant, taking a sip of wine from his cup. 

“Rhaenyra is no fool, she is observant,” said Daemon, “but she is no fighter.” 

King’s Landing

The Royal Docks

The Hand of the Queen, Princess Rhaenys, made her way down to the docks connected to the Red Keep that stretched out onto Blackwater Bay. The Royal Docks were separated and secluded from the larger docks that the city uses, separated by a steep cliffside and jagged rocks. There were three long stone docks that stretched out onto the water, with only one ship present. It was the ship of her lord husband, named the Sea Snake . The ship’s deck was being cleaned by some sailors and shipmates, with Lord Corlys watching the progress from the end of the dock. 

“Have you spoken to her yet?” asked Rhaenys as she approached her husband. 

“Nay,” said Corlys, shaking his head, “I wish to give her some peace and quiet. I know this will be news she will not like.” Rhaenys rubbed her husband’s back, all she did was want to comfort him. 

“High Tide must not sit empty, and Driftmark without a leader.” he said with a sigh. 

“The Queen will understand.” nodded Rhaenys. 

“Prince Lucerys is my heir,” continued Corlys, “I must prepare him, and Rhaena shall be coming as well.” 

“Will you recommend a new Master of Ships to her?” asked the Princess. 

“Perhaps. I have yet to think of a replacement.” chuckled Corlys. He then turned to face his wife. “But must you remain here?” he asked quietly. Rhaenys scoffed with a light laugh, and Corlys looked down at the pin on her black coat - the pin for the Hand. 

“Rhaenyra’s rule is still young… and fragile. She needs support.” insisted Rhaenys, “But I will often come visit with Meleys. I will not be that far.” she smiled. Corlys smirked and leaned down to kiss his wife. 

“I have confidence that you can help the Queen reverse this course of fragility.” noted Corlys, “One of my shipmates heard rumors of ships amassing at the Bay of Pentos.” Rhaenys furrowed her brows, unsure of the importance of that information. 

“What is happening at Pentos?” she asked. 

“I am not sure. But many of them bear the sigils of the ruling houses of Tyrosh and Myr.” 

“I thought the Triarchy was finished…” said Rhaenys. 

“As did I. But we must remain alert. I suggest you inform the Queen about this.” suggested Corlys. There was a worried look in his eyes, and Rhaenys immediately knew to heed his words. She trusted him and his perspective. After all, he was the one fighting against the Triarchy in the Stepstones not too long ago. 

“Dorne is more pressing at the moment,” said Rhaenys. She did not want to even think about the possibility of a war brewing in the Narrow Sea once again. 

“I know, I know.” nodded Corlys, “This shall all be resolved. I have faith in you guiding the Queen.” 

The Stormlands

Night was coming quickly, as the sun had fallen into the horizon, and disappeared among the treeline. Jacaerys was still traversing through the woods, having gone west from the camp, attempting to follow Aemond. However, he walked in the woods alone. Jacaerys admired the serenity of the forest. It reminded him of ventures into the Kingswood he was taken on during his childhood, often led by Ser Harwin Strong. The forest felt alive, the trees slightly swaying in the wind, the pines and leaves rustling as they collided with one another, the crunch of the dead leaves under his boots, the chittering of squirrels, the chirping and songs of birds. 

Jacaerys stopped for a moment to look up at the sky through the trees. The sky was turning a deep purplish blue, with some slivers of pink in the clouds as the sun had set. He knew he should return to camp, as walking in the woods alone at night was not the brightest idea, but he wanted to see where Aemond went. Jace continued, and could soon hear the sound of the creek he discovered earlier in the day. He continued onward, heading down a slight decline in the terrain. The sound of the creek got louder, and he felt a sense of relief. 

Jace stopped a few meters away from the stream upon seeing Aemond in the water, naked. He crouched down behind a large mossy boulder and watched. Aemond was crouched in the water, cleaning himself. The middle prince had dipped his head back into the water, and then slicked his platinum blond hair back. Aemond’s hair clung onto the back of his neck and his shoulders as he stood up. He was entirely nude, with his clothes folded on a nearby rock by the creek bed. 

Aemond turned to walk towards the rocky creek bed, walking barefoot. Jace quickly looked away upon seeing Aemond face him. Jace held his breath as he pressed his back up against the boulder, hoping Aemond did not see him. 

“Come out, nephew.” called Aemond. Jace closed his eyes and swore under his breath. He took in a deep breath and then stood up. Aemond was holding his pants in his hands, and it covered most of the lower half of his body. “Following me?” asked Aemond, patting the dirt and sand off of his pants. 

“Uh, no.” stammered Jace, stepping away from the boulder, a few steps closer to the rushing creek. Aemond folded his pants and threw them back onto a rock, and Jace saw his flaccid cock. Jace gulped nervously and avoided looking at Aemond. 

“You should bathe, we’ve been on a long trip.” said Aemond, putting his tunic on the round pebbles of the creek bed to sit down. His back was now facing Jace, and Jace looked at Aemond. Even though they were both eighteen years old, Aemond seemed far more muscular and toned. His back muscles were pronounced and his shoulders sharp and broad. He sat with his knees close to his chest, resting his elbows on his knees, looking out at the setting sun between the trees up ahead. Jace hesitated, he wasn’t sure about getting nude in the forest… especially in front of Aemond. 

Aemond looked up at Jace who stood behind him, 

“Well? You want to smell of rot when you confront the Dornish Prince?” he asked. Jace chuckled awkwardly. Jace took off his boots one at a time and then his coat. He found another boulder a few feet away and put his coat down gently. He took off his sword from his belt and unbuckled his belt as well. He looked down at the ground full of pebbles, they were cold on his feet, yet all smooth. Jace reached for his trouser’s buttons, hesitating for a moment. He looked over his shoulder, Aemond was not looking at him. Jace undid his buttons and pulled down his pants, keeping on his light tunic underwear. He took off his tunic shirt, too, and walked into the water. 

He took only a few steps in, and the water reached his shins.

“It’s cold as ice.” Jace gritted his teeth from the cold, and Aemond looked at him. 

“It’ll make you stronger, don’t be shy.” he insisted. Jace crossed his arms to keep himself warm, going deeper into the creek. The water reached his thighs, just clipping the ends of his underwear. The Crown Prince took in a deep breath and lowered himself into the water by getting on his knees. He shivered at first, but soon was getting acclimated to the cold water. It was refreshing. The current brushing past his bare body down past him. Jace closed his eyes and held his breath, dunking his head under the water. Aemond watched intently. 

Jace broke out of the water with a gasp and shook his head, with his long brown hair slinging the water outward. He cleaned his eyes and face, rinsed his mouth with the cold water, and began to wash his armpits. Soon after, he walked back to the side of the creek, joining Aemond. 

Jace sat down on the pebbles, with a bit of distance between him and Aemond. The sun was entirely gone now, and it was getting chilly out. His soaked underwear clung to his buttocks and his bulge. He wished all of a sudden that he had a warm towel. 

“A nightly swim does the body wonders.” exhaled Aemond, leaning back to lay down on the ground. Jace looked at him, but then immediately looked away again upon remembering that Aemond wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Makes the blood pump strong.” said Aemond quietly, closing his eyes. Jacaerys slowly looked at Aemond’s body again. There were droplets of water still on his skin, from his neck, down his chest, his muscular arms… and his eyes stopped at Aemond’s cock. Aemond was caressing his cock, and it was slowly getting harder. Jacaerys’ heart started racing, and he continued to watch. Aemond’s cock grew well over seven inches, appearing thick as soon as he started stroking it fully. 

Jacaerys didn’t know if he should look away, but he felt eager to keep watching. Aemond’s other hand rubbed his own torso and stomach as he jerked himself off, his toes curling and legs straightening. Jacaerys felt his own cock getting slightly harder, pushing against his wet underwear. 

“Fuck me…” mumbled Aemond. His muscles tightened and he became tense, and ejaculated over his torso and chest, shooting multiple streams onto his body. Jace’s heart was racing, and he looked away as Aemond started to sit up. Jace lowered his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Aemond got back into the water to clean himself off, and Jace quickly got up, putting on his pants and shirt. 

“We should get back, it’s late, and cold.” said Jacaerys coldly. Aemond looked at Jace, but the Crown Prince did not look back at him at all. Jace slid on his boots quickly and picked up his sword to put onto his belt once again. “And we left Aegon…” 

“I shall meet you there.” said Aemond softly, and he watched as Jace headed back up the hill, eastward, to their camp. 

King’s Landing

The Red Keep

Night had fallen, and the Queen’s handmaidens were drawing a hot bath in a room adjacent to her bedchambers. The Queen had her own private bathing room, with a large bronze tub in the middle of the room, basking in the moonlight through a wall full of large floor-to-ceiling windows. There were scented candles of lavender and vanilla lit nearby, a small tray of pastry cakes if the Queen was peckish. 

“The bath is ready, your grace.” said the Queen’s most trusted handmaiden, Elinda. Elinda escorted Rhaenyra into the bathroom, and she was grateful for Elinda’s quickness with preparing the bath. Her shoulders and neck were sore and couldn’t wait to submerge in the scalding hot water. Elinda helped Rhaenyra take off her light blue nightgown, feeling the cool air on her nude body, she quickly but carefully got in the tub. 

Rhaenyra exhaled with relief as she got deeper into the water, resting her head on the back of the tub. She sank into the water, just for the hot water to reach her chin. Elinda brought over a sponge and soaps, offering a selection to the Queen. 

“That one,” pointed Rhaenyra to a golden bar of soap. Elinda then began scrubbing Rhaenyra’s arm as she rested it on the side of the tub. 

“Excellent choice, your grace.” said Elinda softly. Rhaenyra rested her head back again and closed her eyes. 

“You know me very well, Elinda. I am never disappointed with your selections.” said Rhaenyra lightheartedly, and Elinda smiled proudly. Elinda then moved to behind the Queen and Rhaenyra sat up so she could have her hair washed. Rhaenyra dipped her head back to get her hair wet, and Elinda used a comb to carefully brush through it. She mixed in some soap and began scrubbing the Queen’s scalp. 

“How has that young man been treating you? Tylas was his name, correct?” asked Rhaenyra, keeping her eyes closed. She was enjoying the massage-like care for her hair. 

“Uh, y-yes, Tylas, your grace.” stuttered Elinda, she wasn’t expecting the Queen to make conversation. She usually took her baths in silence. “And yes, he is kind and gentle-hearted.” 

“Good, good. Where does he work?” asked Rhaenyra curiously. 

“He actually is a blacksmith, he works down by the Street of the Sisters.” said Elinda, “He has made many swords and shields for the City Watch.” she said proudly. 

“Does he like the work?” 

“Aye, I think so. It’s an honest living, enough to get by.” said Elinda, she began to rinse the Queen’s hair and started combing it again with some water.  

“I… I sometimes wonder if the Prince Consort enjoys his new role.” said Rhaenyra a bit nervously, with a light chuckle. “I do not know what he was expecting, if anything.” 

“It is surely a change, he has been elevated, to a degree.” agreed Elinda. 

“There are times I am unsure of what he truly wants, if that even includes me.” explained the Queen. Elinda slowed her combing and stopped, listening to the Queen. 

“You are the most desirable woman in the Realm, your grace.” 

“But I am not married to the Realm,” said Rhaenyra softly. Elinda moved to Rhaenyra’s left side, and began cleaning her arm with the sponge. She looked at the Queen directly, 

“Permission to speak freely, your grace?” she asked, and Rhaenyra nodded. “Might I recommend you open your heart to him. If you care about him, or want him to care about you, do not be afraid to show it.” Rhaenyra nodded. She looked away from Elinda, as her eyes were tearing up. 

“He’s so much younger than I.” she sniffled, “But he is tender and kind. I was not expecting any of it.”

“What did you expect, your grace?” asked Elinda. 

“Something much worse.” 

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

Royal Docks

Queen Rhaenyra stood at the base of the stone steps leading to the central dock, with Prince Joffrey at her right side. Up ahead was Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys speaking to one another, and Lady Rhaena and Princess Lucerys waiting patiently. Joffrey held onto his mother’s hand as he stood beside her, occasionally looking up at the sky as Prince Lucerys’ dragon, Arrax, circled up above. Princess Rhaenys knelt before Prince Lucerys to speak with him, putting her hand on his upper arm. She scruffed her grandson’s hair and gave him a tight hug. She then faced her granddaughter Rhaena and spoke to her as well quietly. 

Lucerys looked back at his mother, just a few meters up the dock. Rhaenyra’s eyes watered with tears, and she held onto Joffrey’s hand tighter. Lucerys rushed back to his mother, leaping onto her waist to hug her one last time. Rhaenyra held her middle son, and gave him multiple kisses on his head and forehead. 

“Be strong.” she whispered, “We will not be too far from one another, just a short dragon flight.” she brushed back his long brown hair to look at his wide eyes. 

“Tell Jace to visit me when he gets back.” said Lucerys, and Rhaenyra nodded. Lucerys then knelt before his younger brother Joffrey. Joffrey was more reserved and solemn than his older brothers. Lucerys opened his arms, however, and Joffrey gave him a hug as well. Lucerys then turned and headed back down the dock, joining Lord Corlys and Rhaena. Arrax flew overhead once again, calling out to Lucerys. Lucerys looked up letting out a satisfied sigh, Arrax’s call was solemn and low, as if he were feeling sad as well. 

…

“Your grace, good morrow.” Grand Maester Orwyle greeted and joined Rhaenyra as she was quickly walking down a hall in the Red Keep, heading to her father’s bedchambers. 

“Good morrow, Grand Maester. I received word about my father.” said Rhaenyra, turning a corner with Orwyle, heading up a wide flight of stairs. 

“Yes, his grace is fully awake, but his condition…” Rhaenyra stopped as Orwyle hesitated with a look of gloom. “... is not well.” 

Rhaenyra entered her father’s bedchambers, where he was being tended to by two of the Grand Maester’s nursing assistants. The assistants stood tall upon the Queen entering the room, and Rhaenyra went up to her father’s bedside. Viserys was sitting upright, supported by a mountain of pillows. His sleeve was rolled up, and Rhaenyra’s eyes widened upon seeing the decayed state of her father’s left arm. His left leg was uncovered as well, suffering the same fate. Both his arm and leg were pale white-gray in color, with wounds opened and flesh rotting inward. Rhaenyra covered her mouth in shock. 

“Father.” she mumbled, walking up to Viserys’ side. Viserys looked up at his daughter, 

“Rhaenyra…” he whispered in a weak voice. He tried to lift his arm, but lost strength to do so. 

“I am afraid that his grace has lost muscle control over his left arm and leg. The disease is prevalent in both limbs, most concentrated.” explained the Grand Maester. 

“So what are you suggesting? That they must be removed?” asked the Queen. 

“That is an option, your grace. However, it is unlikely that would resolve any of the other complications.” said Orwyle. 

“Then it is a mere question of comfort?” 

“Aye.” nodded Orwyle. Rhaenyra sighed and rubbed her forehead. She sat on her father’s bedside. 

“The decision is yours, father.” she said. 

“I see no point.” said Viserys quietly, “No reason. Leave it as is.” Rhaenyra turned to look over her shoulder at Orwyle, hoping he had some kind of solution, even a miracle. Orwyle stood quietly, holding his hands together, 

“We can only numb the pain at this stage, your grace.” he said to the Queen. Viserys’ breathing was slow and shallow, but loud like a wheezing sound. Rhaenyra stood up and walked over to the nearby windows, gesturing for Orwyle to follow her. The Grand Maester stepped aside with the Queen. 

“How much longer of this can he take?” she asked, “Does he have much longer?” 

“I suspect a week or two if the Gods are fortunate and forgiving.” said Orwyle quietly, “Days if they are not…” Rhaenyra took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She was not expecting this to be happening so suddenly now. 

Dorne

Sunspear

Bells tolled and rang throughout the city of Sunspear, indicating danger to the smallfolk. At first, the smallfolk traversing through the streets, conducting business, were unsure why the bells were being rung. Sunspear had never been attacked, it was an unlikely occurrence. However, within seconds of the bells ringing, the deep, bellowing roar of a dragon could be heard in the skies. The main streets of Sunspear were bustling with activity, merchants, residents, travelers, and vendors alike, looking up into the sky frantically. 

The sounds of heavy wings echoed throughout the city, and soon enough appeared the largest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms, Vhagar. The smallfolk began to scream and disperse, running for their houses and buildings, any kind of cover. Vhagar was quickly surpassed by Sunfyre and Vermax. Sunfyre let out a singsong-like call, piercing through the entire city. 

Vhagar’s shadow blacked out nearly entire city-blocks at a time as she flew overhead. Loose dust and sand from the cobblestone streets were kicked up into the air as the massive dragon descended low over the city. The three dragons, however, began to circle overhead, heading back to the city gates. There were no places to land within the city, of course Vhagar would not fit anywhere and would surely destroy homes in the process. At the far end of the city, walled off and separated, were the Water Gardens and Royal Palace of the Dornish ruling family, House Martell. The Royal Palace had ornate arches and sculpted friezes across its facade, with pointed towers and painted in bright whites and yellows. That was where the three Princes needed to go. There was a strip of open land with sparse palm trees between the end of the city and the grounds of the Royal Palace, the perfect place to land. 

Vhagar’s landing trembled and rumbled the land, shaking the buildings of the Royal Palace and surely the homes in the city of Sunspear. Sunfyre and Vermax landed in front of Vhagar, and each of the three riders quickly got off their mounts. The three landed on a dirt road leading to the Royal Palace, which was lined with towering palm trees. Vhagar snapped and broke a few of the trees upon her landing due to her size. 

Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Jacaerys were immediately met with a garrison of Dornish knights and soldiers. The three Targaryens froze, watching as they were faced with a wall of brown and gold armored knights. Many of the knights carried tall silver spears. The Dornish knights split in two large groups, allowing a knight on horseback to pass through. 

“We mean to meet with Prince Qoren Martell.” announced Prince Aegon. The Knight atop the horse wore silver and gold armor, with a long bronze and orange cape. He had a long black beard and long black hair braided into a single braid. 

“You are trespassing on sovereign Dornish land.” scolded the Knight. 

“I am Prince Consort Aegon of House Targaryen,” Aegon stepped forward, holding his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword on his belt, “here with Prince Aemond and Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, on behalf of her grace, Queen Rhaenyra.” 

“I am Lord Darion Gargalen, Lord Knight of Sunspear. We recognize no Queen here, Targaryens.” snapped Lord Gargalen. Darion Gargalen’s white horse neighed uncomfortably upon the sight of the three dragons. Vermax took off to circle overhead, leaving Sunfyre and Vhagar with the three princes below. 

“We wish to only speak with Prince Qoren,” said Jacaerys loudly and clearly. Lord Darion was approached by a fellow knight in cladded bronze and brown armor. The knight spoke quietly to Darion Gargalen. 

Aemond was growing impatient. He walked forward, leaving behind Aegon and Jace, much to their surprise. The knights and soldiers drew their spears, pointing it forward at Aemond. Aemond stopped just a few feet away from Lord Darion. Vhagar’s footsteps thundered as she got up once again, growling at the Dornish men. 

“It would be wise to call your Prince before us, Lord Darion.” said Aemond confidently, with a smirk on his face. Darion eyed Aemond and then looked behind him, past Aegon and Jacaerys. Vhagar loomed largely, her eyes solely focused on Darion Gargalen. 

“Fetch the Prince.” ordered Darion to his fellow knight beside him. 

King’s Landing

The Red Keep

The Queen remained at her father’s bedside, being served lunch as well, as she did not want to leave his side just yet. A chair was brought to the side of the former King’s bed, along with an end table, where the Queen was given fruit, pastry cakes, and some honey tea. The former King had fallen asleep, still seated mostly upright, breathing heavily. Rhaenyra could not fathom how much pain he had to be in, nor how he could fall asleep whilst in such pain. A knock at the door interrupted Rhaenyra’s quiet, and in entered Ser Harrold Westerling, her Lord Commander. 

“Your grace, it is the Dowager Queen Alicent.” Rhaenyra nodded, watching Alicent enter the room. Her eyes were wide and dark with sorrow, as she was just told the news as well. Alicent curtsied quickly to the Queen as she entered the room, and then went straight to his bedside as well, opposite of Rhaenyra. Alicent sat on the side of Viserys’ bed, looking at him with concern. 

“It could be anytime this week, the Grand Maester said.” said Rhaenyra softly. Alicent reached for Viserys’ right hand. It was barely warm, the coldness was taking over his body. 

“It feels untrue,” said the Dowager Queen, “I never foresaw it ending like this.” 

“How did you foresee it ending?” asked Rhaenyra curiously. 

“Growing old, far older…” muttered Alicent. Viserys began to grumble and groan quietly, moving his torso and head from side to side. Alicent and Rhaenyra both perked up, waiting to see if Viserys would open his eye. 

“Rhaenyra…” mumbled Viserys, his right hand twitching out of Alicent’s grasp, “my only child…” he said tiredly. Alicent gulped anxiously. She knew Viserys was not in his right mind any longer, but forgetting his three other children… it stung and pained her deeply. 

“Aegon…” he continued to whisper, “Aegon… the throne.” Rhaenyra moved to sit at the side of her father’s bed. She shook her head, confused. 

“Father.” she said, trying to wake him, and shook his leg. 

“Unite the realm.” continued Viserys, clenching his teeth in pain, “The Song… the dream. Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra.” 

“Yes, yes, I am here.” Rhaenyra said, raising her voice frantically. 

“Song? What song?” asked Alicent, shaking her head. She looked at Rhaenyra. 

“His throne…” said Viserys, wincing uncomfortably. 

“The conqueror?” asked Rhaenyra, “The Song of Ice and Fire, I know, father. I know.” she squeezed his decrepit hand. It was cold as ice, bloodless even. 

“King.” he whispered. 

“King?” muttered Alicent, sitting upright. Her heart was starting to race. “M-my Aegon?” she looked at Rhaenyra. 

“No. The Conqueror.” Rhaenyra sniffled, sitting upright as well, letting go of her father’s hand. “It is a dream that Aegon the Conqueror had, during his reign.” 

“Viserys,” Alicent said sternly to the former King, “Viserys.” she said even louder. But the former King’s eye was still closed. His wincing stopped. His breathing quieted to a silence. Rhaenyra planted her face into the palms of her hands, weeping quietly. Alicent got up, leaning over the bed, 

“Viserys!” She grabbed Viserys by his shoulders and shook him, but he did not move or wake. Alicent’s lips trembled as she realized her husband had passed, and tears swelled in her eyes. Rhaenyra got up from the bedside, pacing around the room near the large windows. She inhaled deeply, sniffling and quivering. Alicent slowly got up from the bed as well, straightening her green gown as she stood. Rhaenyra faced the windows, her hand covering her mouth as she cried. Alicent walked around the bed, over to Rhaenyra, holding her hands together, picking at her fingers anxiously. 

Alicent opened her mouth to speak, but felt as if she had a stone lodged in her throat. Her heart was pounding, watching Rhaenyra break down just a foot away from her. Alicent reached out, 

“Rhaenyra…” she whispered. Rhaenyra turned around, her eyes reddened and cheeks bearing streams of tears. Alicent moved closer to Rhaenyra and pulled her in closely for a hug. Alicent’s hand rested on the back of Rhaenyra’s head, and she gently caressed her braided hair, 

“I’m so sorry.” she muttered. Tears began to run down Alicent’s cheeks as well, and Rhaenyra hugged her back. The two women buried their faces into each other’s necks and shoulders, comforting one another. “For everything.” added Alicent. Rhaenyra leaned back to look at Alicent directly. 

“W-what?” she mumbled. 

“For all of it, I am sorry.” cried Alicent, nearly stumbling over her words with tears, “How I’ve treated you when you were here last… the judgment, the whispers.” Rhaenyra used her thumb to wipe away some of Alicent’s tears off of her face. The Queen pushed back loose strands of Alicent’s hair behind her ear. As Rhaenyra looked back at Alicent, no longer did she see the cold hearted former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not the whispering and conniving Hightower… but she saw Lady Alicent, her dearest childhood friend. 

Dorne

Royal Palace of Sunspear

Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Jacaerys waited patiently as Prince Qoren of House Martell made his way to the front gates of the Royal Palace, along with the three dozen or so Dornish knights. The three Targaryen princes were being watched with keen eyes by the Dornish men, however, Vhagar stood protectively over the Targaryen princes. Soon enough, the Dornish Prince made his way to the stand-off. 

Qoren Martell was followed by two towering men in long golden robes and silver spears. Qoren Martell was a middle aged man, in his early forties. He had black hair that reached his shoulders, bushy eyebrows, and a cleanly shaven face. The Dornish Prince was thin and had broad shoulders, wearing a gold and bronze suit and black boots, typical for Dornish nobility. 

Aemond walked forward first before Aegon and Jacaerys. The two followed Aemond swiftly. The three Targaryen princes stopped about two meters away from Prince Qoren. Qoren smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“What an occasion to bear witness, three Targaryen princes, three dragons.” said Qoren confidently, “Never have we felt more threatened than the days of the Conqueror…” 

“We only come before you to speak plainly.” said Aegon. 

“You were required at King’s Landing,” jumped in Jace, “for the signing of the Royal Charter and pledge of fealty to the one true Queen.” 

“Ah,” Qoren shook his head slowly, “I suggest you get back on your dragons, and go back to your Queen. Dorne is and always shall remain independent.” he said sternly. 

“You will bend the knee,” said Aemond sharply. 

“And without bloodshed.” added Aegon. 

“Bold words for a man - remind me, shouldn’t you be a King?” asked Qoren mockingly, stepping forward. Aegon furrowed his brow. 

“Bold words for a man standing before two dragons.” snapped Jacaerys. 

“Go back to King’s Landing,” said Qoren. Up in the skies, Vermax screeched and called out. The smallest dragon of the three flew low over the nearby city walls, causing the nearby guards on the walls to shriek and yell in terror. The palace guards and knights became more alert, Vermax was flying incredibly low. 

“Control your beast.” demanded Qoren. Vermax glided over Vhagar, flying over all of the men, towards the Palace. Vermax’s legs and tail clipped the tiled roof of a guard tower, sending dust and tiles flying onto the ground. Qoren looked over his shoulder, with a worried look in his eyes. The small lime green dragon was bold and quick. Vermax flew around the palace and was beginning to circle back. 

Qoren drew out a sword, and his knights did the same. He held out his sword, pointing it at Jacaerys, 

“Enough of this! Leave, or face the consequences!” Jacaerys stepped closer to Aegon and Aemond. They were outnumbered by men, but they outmatched the Dornish with their dragons. Aemond was feeling impulsive, his blood boiling, and both Jace and Aegon could sense it. Vermax called out again, and Sunfyre responded in a long swooning call. 

Within seconds, the sound of a shot rang off in the distance. Vermax cried out in pain. The three Targaryens’ eyes darted to the sky. Falling out of the sky from over the palace, Vermax was shot by a scorpion bolt that struck him in the torso. The young dragon screeched in pain, losing buckets of blood as he fell. Jacaerys walked forward, watching in horror. Vermax fell within the palace walls, and a plume of smoke rose from his impact. 

Jacaerys was frozen, tears welling in his eyes. Aemond pulled Jacaerys away, towards Vhagar, and Aegon ran to Sunfyre. The Dornish knights began to retreat back to the palace walls with Qoren Martell. Vhagar bellowed angrily. 

“Go, go now. Quickly!” urged Aemond, helping Jace climb up Vhagar’s saddle ropes. Vhagar was becoming angsty and angry. She let out a full roar at the top of her massive lungs, deafening all of those around her, causing Jace and Aegon to wince. Jacaerys sat close behind Aemond on the saddle, wrapping his arms around Aemond’s waist. 

“Vezot!” commanded Vhagar, ordering to get up. Vhagar needed not a second word as she was already beginning to move. Her footsteps thundered as she ran towards the Royal Palace. The Dornish men fled in terror, screaming and shrieking curses and swears at the devil. Vhagar spread her massive wings, blacking out the area in shadows, and with a heavy lift, took off into the sky. 

“M-my dragon… Vermax…” muttered Jacaerys, as he held onto Aemond’s waist. Sunfyre bolted past Vhagar as they flew over the Royal Palace, with Aegon seemingly intent and determined. 

“Brother!” called Aemond, as they were flying past the palace, towards the open water. Aemond and Jace looked over their shoulders. Aegon was circling back towards the palace. Sunfyre roared with fury as she descended. Aegon leaned forward in his saddle, yelling in primal rage as the two descended. 

“Dracarys!” He commanded Sunfyre. As the golden dragon swooped down towards the main keep of the palace, the beast unleashed a blast of dragonfire. The stream of dragonfire stripped a hole through a portion of the main keep, slicing through a series of stone porticoes, torching the notable Water Gardens, and then blasting a hole through the outer palace wall. 

“Aegon!” shouted Aemond. Sunfyre began to climb back up into the sky, and Aegon looked over his shoulder. A line of towering fires ate away at much of the central portions of the palace. Palm trees and plants burned, stone began melting away and crumbling. The Prince Consort then saw Vhagar flying northward, in the direction of home. It was not safe there. They needed to flee. 

Aemond only looked forward as he flew Vhagar, but Jace watched the flames continue to grow as they got farther and farther. The Royal Palace sat at the tip of the peninsula, and appeared as if it were a torchlight. Black smoke billowed and plumed into the sky. 

“Vermax…” muttered Jace in horror. He leaned forward, resting the side of his face on Aemond’s back. His arms wrapped around Aemond’s waist, and he held on tightly. 

“My prince!” Lord Gargalen said, rushing over to Prince Qoren that lay on the ground, completely covered in ash and soot. Qoren’s eyes shot open and he shuddered, looking around. He was just a few meters away from the opened gate into the palace grounds. He looked around, there were flames taller than houses still burning, his home was ablaze. An entire wing of his palace was torched, destroyed, and continued to burn. 

“W-we… we must prepare…” said Qoren, wincing as he was standing up with help from Lord Gargalen, “for war.”

Pentos

Magister Deloro Ballant owned a vast villa on the eastern outskirts of the city of Pentos, along the cliffside shore of the Narrow Sea. His home was composed of low buildings with red tiled roofs, cream colored stucco walls, and flourishing gardens within the property grounds. As a member of the Prince’s Inner Circle, he enjoyed lavishes and treasures comparable to the Prince himself. Deloro Ballant often enjoyed spending his time in his home’s gardens, which sat right along the cliffside, giving a panoramic view of the bright blue sea. 

“Did he seem viable?” a young dark haired man approached Deloro, handing him a cup of white wine. Deloro sat comfortably on a plush sofa underneath a trellis covered in vines and flowers. 

“He did not outright reject it or denounce it.” sighed Deloro, taking the cup of wine and taking a sip, “So that is good, I would say.” The dark haired man sat beside Deloro, brushing back his long brown hair behind his ears. He had thick eyebrows, gray eyes, and a shortly trimmed beard. He put his hand on Deloro’s thigh, rubbing it. 

“He’s got nothing better to do, I think. Just sitting around and fucking.” he said. Deloro chuckled, 

“And you do not like doing that?” 

“Oh I yearn for it.” he said, leaning in to kiss Deloro on his lips. Deloro smiled, kissing his husband back. Erulan Diattos was the husband of Deloro, having been born in Tyrosh a bit further south, moved north to Pentos to live with Deloro. The two met at a young age while attending a noble college in Pentos. Erulan came from a noble Tyroshi family that owned a sizable fleet of ships, yet he had no interest in maintaining that nobility or exerting his power and influence over others. 

“But a dragon would make your quest easier, my love.” added Erulan, caressing Deloro’s jawline and chin. 

“It will take time, and I must take my steps carefully.” noted Deloro. He looked out at the sea. The sound of the waves always seemed to calm him, and ease his mind. There were over a hundred ships in the bay. About half of them bore sigils of Myr on their sails, and the other half sigils of Tyrosh. “Volantis is eager to sign the agreement and join the alliance, they have some small demands, they are passable.” 

“If the situation in Dorne continues to escalate, it will only ease our efforts,” said Erulan. 

“In due time, no longer will Essos be in the shadows of Westeros.” exhaled Deloro confidently, “No longer will the Targaryens get to dictate the way of the world.” Erulan took his husband’s hand and held it closely and warmly. 

Aenar’s Cliffs

Crownlands

House Targaryen and the royal family converged for the funeral of former King Viserys on the windy rocky cliffs outside of King’s Landing, known as Aenar’s Cliffs. The grassy meadows atop the cliffs were where the royal family held the funeral of Queen Aemma Targaryen many years ago. Rhaenyra stood dressed in a long black gown with a black veil on the back of her head, hiding many of her braids. Atop her head sat her golden crown. Meters up ahead of her was the funeral pyre of her father, where Viserys was wrapped in the traditional cloth wraps, surrounded by white lily flowers. Standing right beside the Queen was Alicent Hightower, adorned in a black gown as well, and a black veil covering her face. Alicent held her head low as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. 

Standing close to Rhaenyra was Prince Joffrey, as if he were clinging to his mother’s side. Princess Rhaenys and Lady Baela stood together as well, joined by the other members of the Small Council and nearly all of the Kingsguard, including Ser Criston and Ser Harrold. Princess Helaena stood beside her mother, the Dowager Queen, looking at the funeral pyre longingly and conspicuously. 

High up on the hill waited Syrax, the Queen’s dragon. The golden and bronze dragon waited patiently for the funeral pyre to be ready for burning. The Silent Sisters put the last of the lilies on the former King’s pyre, and they swiftly moved away from the area. 

“Syrax,” called Rhaenyra, her voice nearly cracking. She gulped, “Dracarys.” Syrax slowly marched down the hill, inhaling deeply as she looked at the funeral pyre. Syrax then let out a gentle blast of dragonflame on the funeral pyre, instantly igniting it. Rhaenyra closed her eyes and lowered her head. It felt as if the family she grew up with, the family that raised her, was now truly gone. First, her mother died from childbirth all those years ago, leaving her just with her father. And now, after years of trying to escape her father’s control of politicking, he was suddenly gone. 

…

Rhaenyra walked alone into the throne room in the Red Keep. She ordered Ser Harrold to remain outside the main door, as she wanted time alone. She stopped upon entering the grand hall. The sun poured in from behind the throne, shining upon it. The hall was quiet, still as ice, and cold. None of the torches were lit along the walls, nor any candles for candelabras. She walked down the center of the long throne room, towards the throne.

Rhaenyra took off her crown and held it in her hands. She looked at it, directly at the Targaryen sigil on the front. 

“Will the Realm truly follow me, father?” her voice quivered. 

“They will.” spoke a soft voice from the side of the throne room. It was Princess Helaena. Entering from one of the side corridors was Alicent, Helaena, and Rhaenys. The three women approached the Queen, who nodded her head as she continued to cry silently. 

“You are the torchlight that guides us,” said Princess Rhaenys, holding Rhaenyra’s hand. 

“And you have us to support you.” added Alicent, “No matter the challenge.”

“We withstand the storm,” said Helaena, “as one House.” Rhaenyra smiled at her younger sister, kissing her forehead. “The storm is coming.” said Helaena with her face turning serious. Rhaenyra looked at her, confused. 

Storm’s End

“We will send a raven to her grace, the Queen, immediately.” Lord Borros Baratheon said nervously to Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Jacaerys. The Warden of the Stormlands stood in the entry courtyard of his castle where he unexpectedly was met with the three Targaryen princes, and two dragons. Vhagar and Sunfyre waited outside the castle walls, alert and ready for any further escape needed. Lord Borros’s Maester quickly headed inside to write the message to send off to King’s Landing, detailing what just happened at Dorne. 

“Please, come inside. You all must be exhausted and starved.” Borros stepped aside gesturing for the three young men to enter the looming castle behind him. It was dusk, the air was becoming chilly and a light sprinkling of rain began. 

“We are most appreciative, my lord.” said Prince Aegon, nodding his head to the Lord. He and Aemond went first, following a pair of knights wearing Baratheon labeled armor. Jacaerys was last, walking alongside Lord Borros. The Crown Prince was still distraught, and dissociating. It felt unreal - what he had witnessed. 

“My prince,” Lord Borros cleared his throat, “I offer you my deepest sympathies for the loss of your dragon.” He went to pat the young prince on the back, but stopped before touching him. He realized he should probably not touch the son of the Queen and heir to the Iron Throne.

“Thank you, my lord.” said Jace softly. 

…

Dinner for the Targaryen princes was quiet, solemn, and quick. The sun quickly set beyond the horizon on the west, and the princes were shown to their guest rooms. The guests did not speak much at the dinner table, and neither did Lord Borros or any of his daughters. They all understood what this meant, with the Prince of Dorne being responsible for the murder of a Targaryen dragon… 

Jacaerys was shown to his room by the Maester, it was just down the hall from Aemond and Aegon’s guest rooms. The room was small and quaint. There was a large bed with heavy fur blankets, large pillows, a tall bookshelf with scrolls, books, and some bottles of alcohol. The windows to the room were narrow slits in the wall. After all, Storm’s End was not built to serve as a lavish palace retreat, but a fortress. 

“If you need anything at all, my prince, do not hesitate to alert the guard.” said the elderly Maester as he stood by the bedroom door. Jacaerys stood in the middle of the room, as if he were a lost little boy, and looked at the Maester. 

“Thank you.” he said, and the Maester was off, and closed the door behind him. There was a lit candle on the nightstand next to the bed, flickering in the dim room. He could hear the deathly screeches again in his mind that Vermax made upon being struck by the scorpion bolt. He could replay in his mind clearly seeing his green dragon fall out of the sky, trailing black blood and smoke, crashing into the Dornish Water Gardens. Tears began to swell in Jace’s eyes again. 

He sat himself on the side of his bed and planted his face into the palms of his hands, breathing heavily. 

“Fuck this.” he hissed under his breath. He wanted to pull his hair out of his head. He wanted to kick and scream. Jace clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt. With a deep inhale and exhale, Jace closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself. 

There was a knock at the door, and Jace sat up. He wiped away his tears. 

“Come.” he said. The door opened, and standing in the doorway was Aemond, and he stepped into the room. 

“What is it?” snapped Jace, sniffling. 

“I wanted to check on you.” said the middle prince quietly, gently closing the door behind him. 

“And when have you ever truly given a fuck about me?” scolded Jace angrily. Aemond stood still, holding his hands behind his back. 

“I could ask you the same.” said Aemond softly, holding his head high, “But I know this is not easy-”

“Of course it’s not!” shouted Jace, jumping to his feet, “But what would you know? You have Vhagar, the biggest dragon in the world, nothing could take her down.”

“I seek to give you support.” 

“Support?” scoffed Jace, “I don’t need your support.” He stepped closer to Aemond, who remained motionless and still as a statue. Jacaerys glared at Aemond angrily, looking between his eye patch and his eye. “And I think it would be wise for you to keep your distance from me… and Helaena.” Aemond looked down at Jacaerys, as Jacaerys was just a few inches shorter than him.    

“Is that what you want?” whispered Aemond. Jacaerys stepped closer. He looked into Aemond’s single eye. It was as blue as the sky and sea. Aemond looked at Jace’s dark brown eyes, then down at his lips, and back up at his eyes again. Jacaerys noticed. He cocked his head back. 

“You perplex me.” muttered Jacaerys, confused with Aemond’s intentions. 

“Good.” Aemond grabbed Jace’s lower jaw quickly, holding his face tightly, just above his throat and under his chin. Jace’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Aemond’s wrist. The two stared at one another. Aemond leaned in, holding his lips over Jace’s. Aemond’s nose grazed against Jace’s nose, and he did it once again. 

“Unhand…me…” said Jace softly. 

“I know you watched me.” whispered Aemond, his breath hot on Jace’s lips, “At the creek last night.” 

“You’re mad.” said Jace firmly, but Aemond’s lips curled into a smirk. 

“You were fond of it.” teased Aemond, turning Jace’s face to the side slightly. Aemond grazed his lips on Jace’s ear, breathing on him, “I wanted you to watch.” Jace squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Let me go.” pleaded Jace. Aemond let go of Jace’s face, but still stood close to him. Jace rubbed his neck from where Aemond was holding him. He gulped nervously, looking back up at Aemond. Aemond reached out his hand to touch Jace’s hair, 

“I’ve accepted long ago that Helaena would not end up as my own…” Jace stepped back, removing himself from Aemond’s fingers in his hair. “‘Tis the way the world goes.” Aemond sighed and headed for the door. 

“Goodnight, Jacaerys.” he said as he opened the door. He turned to look at Jace one last time, admiring him. “Sleep well.” Jacaerys didn’t say anything in response to Aemond, but stood still as he shut the door. Jace blinked his eyes rapidly, as if he were trying to wake up from a strange dream. The Crown Prince took off his coat and trousers and quickly climbed into bed. He stared up at the stone ceiling, his hands resting on his stomach. This was all far too much to bear… 

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

The Red Keep

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen sat with her eldest son, Prince Jacaerys, in the living room of her royal apartments, rubbing his back, trying to console him after the loss of his dragon. Jacaerys was also consoling his mother, as he just found out about the death of his grandsire, the former King. Upon Jace’s arrival late last night, with Prince Aegon and Aemond, Rhaenyra called for a meeting of the Small Council in the morning. It was to start shortly, as she waited for all its members to gather at the Red Keep. 

“I’m sorry, mother.” said Jace quietly, staring blankly with his eyes reddened. Rhaenyra brushed back Jace’s long hair out of his face. 

“For what, sweet boy?” she asked warmly. 

“For grandsire… and for not being with Vermax… for not controlling him, for not being a true Targaryen.” Jace’s voice was low and depressive. Rhaenyra looked directly at her son and rubbed his cheek, 

“Do not say such things,” she urged, “you are a Targaryen. You alone could not control the treacherous acts of the Dornish men. It is not your fault.” as the Queen stared at her son with wide eyes, Jace looked away. He felt ashamed. He felt like a failure as a dragonrider. “Look at me.” she said, but Jace did not listen. “Look at me, Jace.” she commanded sternly. Jace looked at his mother. 

“Dorne will pay for what they’ve done. Prince Qoren will pay for what he has committed against you, against us, against the Crown.” she insisted, “They will pay in fire and blood.” 

“Aegon nearly burned down the entire palace,” said Jace softly. Rhaenyra slowly sat back, she did not know this, “he could have destroyed the entire palace, sinking it into the sea, but Aemond called him to stop…” there was a knock at the door. 

“Come.” said Rhaenyra. As the door opened, Rhaenyra and Jace both looked to see who it was. 

“Prince Aegon, your grace.” said Ser Harrold. In entered Aegon. Aegon still had a streak of soot and ash on his cheekbone and forehead. Jacaerys stood up, knowing he should let his mother and her husband speak to one another about what happened at Dorne. 

“I’ll see you at the Small Council, mother.” said Jacaerys, and Rhaenyra nodded. Jace walkled around the couch and to the door. Aegon and Jace acknowledged each other with a silent but respectful nod. The door closed, and Aegon was left alone with the Queen. 

“Your grace,” said Aegon softly, walking into the room awkwardly. He held his hands together anxiously, picking at his fingernails. 

“Jace told me everything.” said Rhaenyra gently, “And what you did.” Aegon nodded slowly, 

“Aye, I did what I thought was right… in the moment.” The Prince Consort walked over to the side of the couch, and Rhaenyra stood up. The two faced one another, looking at each other longingly. 

“I do not fault you.” said Rhaenyra, “What they did was… an act of war.” Aegon nodded in agreement. Rhaenyra reached for Aegon’s face, wiping some of the ash off of his cheek. It only smudged. She went over to her vanity table where there sat a bowl of water and a handful of small washcloths. She dipped one of the towels in the water and wringed the water out of it. Rhaenyra went back to Aegon and gently wiped his cheek once again, cleaning off the ash and soot. 

“Is it noticeable?” whispered Aegon, self conscious about his appearance. 

“It was.” chuckled Rhaenyra lightly. She stopped wiping his face, lowering her hand, and she stared into Aegon’s eyes. Her smile faded, “Would you have burned down the rest of Sunspear if it weren’t for Aemond?” Aegon looked into Rhaenyra’s eyes, 

“Yes,” he muttered, “for our House. For Jacaerys… for you .” Rhaenyra was taken aback. Aegon stepped closer to his wife, putting one of his hands on her waist. He leaned in, holding his lips right over hers, grazing them together. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra, pulling her up against his body. He started to kiss her neck, biting gently her ear, moving down her neck.

“We have Small Council…” exhaled Rhaenyra, even though she was enjoying the sensual attention she was receiving. 

“Fuck Small Council.” said Aegon, continuing to kiss Rhaenyra’s neck, moving down to her exposed collar from her low-cut dress. “Make them wait,” he whispered. Rhaenyra grabbed Aegon’s face to look at him, and he looked back at her, a bit startled. Aegon looked down at Rhaenyra’s lips, and she did the same to him. Aegon’s hands slowly moved to the top of Rhaenyra’s dress, and he began to pull it down. She lowered her hands from Aegon’s face, letting him take off her dress. Aegon did not break eye contact with Rhaenyra as her dress slid down her breasts, past her waist, and onto the floor. Rhaenyra started to unbutton Aegon’s green and black coat. It came off easy and quick, then she lifted off his light beige tunic shirt. As she continued to admire his face, his eyes, nose, and lips, her hands moved down to his belt and his pants. Rhaenyra unbuckled Aegon’s belt and pushed his pants down. Upon slipping past his hips, his pants fell to the floor, and she pushed down his underwear as well. 

The two stood naked, just inches away from their bodies touching one another. Aegon caressed Rhaenyra’s face with his left hand, and her breast with his right hand. Her breath fluttered as he fondled her breast and nipple. He began to trail his fingers down her abdomen, to her groin. He started to rub her lips between her legs, sliding a single finger between them. Rhaenyra closed her eyes and gasped lightly. Aegon leaned in closer to her, kissing her, 

“Do you like that?” he asked in a low, deep voice, and Rhaenyra nodded her head. Aegon then used two fingers to slide between the lips of her vulva, maintaining a steady pace. His cock began to harden within seconds, poking Rhaenyra’s inner thigh. Rhaenyra reached below, gripping his shaft to stroke it lightly. Aegon rasped, 

“Do you want it?” 

“Yes.” begged Rhaenyra in a whisper. Aegon slid two fingers inside of Rhaenyra, and she gasped, and held her breath. She opened her eyes, with one other hand gripping the back of Aegon’s neck. She looked into his eyes with a deep passion, her body was throbbing for more. Aegon pushed his fingers deeper into her, moving in and out slowly. 

He took out his fingers, holding his index and middle fingers together, and licked them while Rhaenyra watched. Rhaenyra shuddered, and felt Aegon’s cock throbbing in her hand as he flexed it. Aegon guided Rhaenyra to the couch, and she laid down on her back, with Aegon crawling atop of her. 

For just a moment, Aegon laid directly on top of Rhaenyra, his body between her opened legs, their eyes interlocked with one another. Aegon’s hair dangled forward, but Rhaenyra could still see his blue eyes. She felt the tip of his cock on her clit, and he gently pushed his body forward. He reached below to rub her vulva again, feeling it wetter. Aegon held his cock and rubbed against her pulsating cunt. Rhaenyra placed one hand around Aegon’s back, and the other on his cheek. Aegon’s breath was shaky and quivered as well, he was nervous. His heart was racing, pounding against his chest. Aegon glanced down at his cock and then at Rhaenyra, his eyes instantly conveying to Rhaenyra as if he were seeking permission. Rhaenyra nodded. 

Aegon pushed his thick cock inside Rhaenyra, stopping after a couple inches. Rhaenyra continued to stare deeply into Aegon’s eyes, and she gasped softly. She moved one hand from his face to the back of his head, gripping onto his silver hair. Aegon looked down, watching himself thrust into Rhaenyra once more, deeper. He groaned from pleasure and slowly lowered his entire body onto hers. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra passionately, and continued to thrust his hips, sliding his wet cock further into her. 

“Yes,” moaned Rhaenyra, clawing her fingernails into Aegon’s back. Aegon panted as he fucked his wife, shaking the couch and causing it to creak slightly. 

“Fuck…” groaned Aegon, “You want this cock?” he panted, and Rhaenyra shook her head, 

“Fuck me,” she whimpered. She dug her fingers into Aegon’s back again, her legs trembling slightly as Aegon fucked her passionately. He did not thrust too hard like an animal, but thrusted sensually, ensuring he wasn’t hurting her. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra’s neck as he continued to fuck her, his hips moving rhythmically. She spread her legs wider, moving her hands down to his lower back and gripping his buttocks to pull him in deeper. Aegon panted and groaned with pleasure, he did not want to stop, and wanted to go faster. 

“Yes, don’t stop.” whispered Rhaenyra in a low moan. Aegon looked into Rhaenyra’s eyes with a primal sense. Rhaenyra focused her gaze as well on Aegon, and he began to thrust harder. 

“You want it?” he panted, and Rhaenyra nodded. The sofa began to shake and creak lightly as Aegon fucked her harder, thrusting his entire body against Rhaenyra’s. “I’m close.” Rhaenyra held her arms around Aegon’s back, pulling his torso down onto hers. Aegon buried his face into Rhaenyra’s neck, 

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, his thrusts became hard until he finally came inside of her. He panted loudly, and Rhaenyra closed her eyes, moaning with a sense of relief. For a moment, Aegon laid still on Rhaenyra. He then lifted himself up slightly to look into her eyes. Rhaenyra began to caress Aegon’s face, and he did the same with one hand. She wiped away a bead of sweat from his forehead. 

…

The Small Council meeting commenced as soon as the Queen arrived, with all its members already waiting at the large table. The members stood as the monarch entered, and then took their seats as soon as the Queen did. Aegon decided to go to take a bath instead of going to the Small Council meeting, but knew Rhaenyra would steer the Small Council into a proper solution to Dorne. As soon as the Queen sat down, she informed the Small Council of what took place at Dorne, and the death of Jacaerys’ dragon, Vermax. 

“We’ve never had to consider the crimes for killing a dragon, it is unheard of.” said Lord Tyland Lannister, the newly appointed Master of Ships. 

“The burning of the Palace of Sunspear was appropriate, perhaps we should consider an identical approach to the rest of Sunspear,” said Lord Jasper Wylde. There was much reluctance and hesitation to that idea from the rest of the table. Everyone was quiet. They all knew that they needed to respond to this incident with fury and might. They could not let Dorne, or House Martell, get away with a blatant act of war against the Crown. 

“Perhaps we make an attempt to capture Qoren Martell, bring him in for questioning.” suggested Lord Jasper. 

“That would require a force of soldiers.” noted Alicent Hightower, “We’ve had to cross far too much Dornish territory, either by land or by sea.” 

“What does the Dowager Queen suggest?” asked Jasper. 

“I have no detailed plan, if that is what you are inquiring about, Lord Jasper.” snapped Alicent. 

“Queen Alicent makes a legitimate point,” said Rhaenyra, defending her childhood friend. The two women glanced at one another, with Alicent giving her a look of gratitude, “By land would take far too long, and by sea, we’d encounter the Dornish navy.” 

“This speaks towards a full scale invasion, your grace.” said Rhaenys, Hand of the Queen. 

“Is that what we must prepare for?” asked Tyland, “Because I fear any chances of dialogue with House Martell has now ceased.” 

“What is our alternative?” asked Jasper, “Dragons. Use the might of House Targaryen to subjugate the Martells.” 

“Three dragons were not enough, and one was killed.” said Alicent, “Pure force does not always lead to victory.” 

“I was fortunate my son was not on dragonback when Vermax was shot down and killed.” reflected Rhaenyra, “But I face a choice of which men to put in danger… my own family of dragonriders… or soldiers of the Realm.” 

“Perhaps let us decide what our focus should be on, your grace.” said Alicent, “Whether that is all of Dorne… or just Sunspear and Qoren Martell.” 

“We may not need to resort to a full-scale invasion of Dorne,” agreed Rhaenys. Jasper, Tyland, and Beesbury looked at the two women that flanked the Queen. It was as if her true Small Council were just Rhaenys and Alicent. It was a sight to see, there were never this many women on any Small Council, rarely one if ever any. 

“Our target must be Qoren Martell,” decided Rhaenyra, “I will not condemn the rest of Dorne into death and destruction by the actions of its ruler.” 

“Your grace,” Jasper cleared his throat, “I do urge you to consider rallying support of the other Great Houses in the event that soldiers are needed.” Rhaenyra looked over at Rhaenys, and Rhaenys nodded in agreement. 

“Aye, perhaps House Tyrell would be best first, since they are closest to Dorne.” said the Queen, “From Lady Elinor’s last report, she has a standing army of at least sixty thousand men in reserve.” 

“I can petition my uncle for further assistance from Oldtown.” added Alicent. 

“Perhaps a two-fronted confrontation,” suggested Rhaenys, “a force of men at the Red Mountains along its northern border, and a fleet of dragons… if that is the route you wish to pursue.” Rhaenyra looked at the other men at the table. 

“How does the Council feel about Princess’ Rhaenys plan?” she asked.

“I think it is most agreeable and with the most restraint,” said Grand Maester Orwyle, “if we are to prevent a full-scale war.” 

“If we are going to pursue intimidation at first,” exhaled Lord Tyland, “I am agreeable as well. Might I suggest we prepare a small fleet of ships as well?” 

“I do not see any reason as to not to, that is a fine idea, Lord Tyland.” agreed the Queen, “Any objections?” there was silence at the table. “It is settled then. Grand Maester, send word to Lady Elinor requesting as many troops as possible to rendezvous with a garrison of royal troops in the Reach at Prince’s Pass. I shall discuss with my family which dragons to send.” 

… 

Aegon entered the Red Keep’s main bathhouse near its mid-levels of Maegor’s Holdfast, wearing a light tunic robe. The bathhouse consisted of a main hot pool, about four meters wide in each direction, radiating with steam from its heat. On the floor below, servants kept a strong fire underneath the pool to keep the water warm. The room was rather secluded and private, there was a colonnade with windows to the left, yet large curtains maintained privacy. The side of the pool where Aegon stood was lined with benches and lounging ottomans. Coming to the bath house was one of Aegon’s favorite methods of winding down, other than having a hefty cup of wine. 

Aegon untied the cloth belt that kept his robe closed, exposing his naked body to the warm, humid air. He tossed the robe onto the nearby ottoman and took a deep breath. He felt satisfied with his intimate time with Rhaenyra. He immediately began to picture her breasts and her cunt in his own mind, and remembering how he wanted to fuck her again. He reached down to his cock that was slowly hardening, and he rubbed it gently. Aegon opened his eyes and stepped into the warm water, descending down the stone steps. 

The pool was only about a meter deep, and Aegon took a seat on the steps, extending his arms on the ledge and laid his head back. The water was scalding hot, it eased his muscles, loosening his toned arms and lightly formed abs. He closed his eyes again. 

“Brother.” Aegon’s eyes shot open and he sighed. It was Aemond. The middle Prince entered the room, also wearing a light robe and stood just a few feet away from his older brother. Aegon opened his eyes and looked at Aemond. 

“Come to bathe, I see?” 

“Aye.” responded Aemond, and he took off his robe as well, and quickly got into the water. Aegon avoided looking at his naked brother as he entered the water, waiting until his groin was fully submerged. The two brothers sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the steam slowly rise from the still, glass-like, water. 

“Do you think we will be sent off soon?” asked Aemond, still looking forward. Aegon glanced at his brother. 

“To Dorne? Possibly.” he responded. Aemond nodded his head slowly. 

“They should have all cowered at the sight of us,” said Aemond, “especially Vhagar.” 

“They’re cunts.” said Aegon bluntly, and he looked at his brother again. Aemond wasn’t amused or showing any emotion. “Is… is everything alright?” 

“With what?” 

“Well, you. Always off to yourself.” noted Aegon. 

“I’ve always been seclusive. Now you are noticing?” Aemond craned his neck to look at his older brother. 

“Maybe a wife would do you some wonders, perhaps one of those Baratheon girls. Eh?” Aegon smiled, but yet again, Aemond remained emotionless. “Is it Helaena you want?” asked Aegon in a serious tone. Aemond lowered his head. 

“Helaena is betrothed.” muttered Aemond. He started to get out of the water. 

“Yes, but I see -”

“See what?” snapped Aemond, staring at his brother as he stood halfway out of the water. 

“I see how you look at her,” said Aegon sternly, “she cannot be for you.” Aemond got out of the water and picked up his robe, quickly putting it on and tying the soft belt around his thin waist. 

…

Princess Helaena adored spending her free time writing poems and riddles underneath the weirwood tree in the Godswood of the Red Keep. The weirwood tree still had all its leaves, bright red as rubies. She sat on a round rock at the base of the tree, with a small notebook in her hand and ink and a quill. She not only admired the peace and quiet of the Godswood, but also the wafting scent of the salty sea that came over the castle walls. 

Jacaerys made his way to the Godswood after the Small Council meeting concluded, pleased to see Helaena sitting at the foot of the tree. Helaena looked up to see Jace approach her, and she gave a sympathetic smile. 

“I am terribly sorry about Vermax, Jacaerys. He was a magnificent dragon.” she said kindly. She held her notebook close to her chest. 

“Aye, I appreciate that.” Jace nodded his head. He stood with one hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, looking at Helaena’s notebook, “What are you writing?” 

“I was actually drawing and writing.” she said lightheartedly. She lowered her notebook page so Jace could see it. On the left page were four dragon eggs, carefully shaded with graphite pencil as well, and some coloring to each of the eggs. There was a gold, bronze, blue, and black egg on the page. Surrounding the four eggs was a circle with intricate designs. Jace furrowed his brows. 

“Dragon eggs?” He stepped closer to Helaena and sat down beside her. He brushed his thigh and his arm against hers. She nodded her head. She covered the page quickly before Jace could read the poem. 

“Would you like to ride Dreamfyre with me?” her eyes were wide and innocent. Jace’s lips widened into a smile, he looked down at her lips and then back into her hazel eyes. 

“She won’t feast on me, will she?” he asked jokingly. Helaena scoffed, 

“Not sure, but she is a good listener!” she jumped up to her feet, closing her notebook, “Let’s go.” she said excitedly. 

Prince Jacaerys and Princess Helaena were escorted to the Dragonpit with an entourage of Kingsguard. They rode in a royal carriage, flanked by numerous knights on horses. The ride to the Dragonpit was bumpy but swift. The main roads to the grandiose home of the dragons were always clear, wide, and a direct path from the Red Keep. In the meantime, the dragon-keepers woke Dreamfyre from her slumber, and ushered her out into the main hall of the Dragonpit. 

Helaena watched with glee, holding her hands together, as she heard the grumbles and low bellowing of Dreamfyre. Her footsteps were as loud and low as thunder as she slowly made her way up the ramp from the lower levels, into the great hall. Jacaerys stood a few feet behind Helaena, along with a couple other dragon-keepers. He had only seen Dreamfyre from a distance, and never was in her presence. Within moments, Dreamfyre appeared in the light. Her massive head craned low as she jittered curiously, immediately sensing and seeing Helaena. Dreamfyre’s wings scraped against the edges of the ramp tunnel, she would soon be far too large to live in the Dragonpit - after all, she was the third oldest dragon after Vhagar and Vermithor. Dreamfyre’s turquoise blue scales were dull in the dim great hall, her white horns appeared gray, but her sky-blue eyes glistened brightly. 

Dreamfyre towered over the dragon-keepers, Helaena, and Jacaerys. The robust dragon lowered her snout to sniff Helaena and nudge her lovingly. Helaena rubbed Dreamfyre’s snout and chin, and the great blue dragon made a deep, pur-like, sound. Helaena looked over her shoulder to Jacaerys, who waited nervously. She gestured for Jacaerys to come forward, and he did so, with caution. 

Dreamfyre immediately noticed Jacaerys approaching them, and she lifted her head to get a clearer look at him. 

“Lykiri, Dreamfyre.” commanded Helaena with a confident and stern voice, “Mazis embrot.” she ordered Dreamfyre to come down. Jacaerys stood beside Helaena, looking up at the old dragon. Dreamfyre slowly lowered her head, and began to sniff Jacaerys. Her nostrils were enormous, letting out smokey hot air as she exhaled. Helaena took Jacaerys’ hand and held it out with hers. Dreamfyre’s eyes focused on their hands, grumbling with curiosity. Dreamfyre walked forward cautiously, allowing her snout to be touched by Jacaerys. Her scales were smooth, unscathed, and warm like a toasty fire. Jacaerys smiled. 

…

“I am fearful of this path, Rhaenys.” said the Queen, as she sat down across from Princess Rhaenys outside on the open balcony of her apartment in the Red Keep. Tea and fruit scones were served to the Queen and the Hand, as the two women wanted to discuss the crisis at hand with Dorne. “I fear putting lives at risk but I fear appearing weak by the Realm.” Rhaenyra wasn’t hungry for any of the scones, and barely drank any of the tea on the small table between them. 

“I think a show of force could deter violence.” pondered Rhaenys, “It has been generations since House Targaryen truly stood at the doorstep of House Martell. We must remind them.” 

“And who am I to send among us with their dragons?” asked Rhaenyra bluntly. Rhaenys put down her cup of tea. 

“I would like to lead the effort, your grace.” 

“To go to Sunspear?” 

“Yes, and to give House Martell one last chance at surrender,” explained the Hand, “and if they refuse, we lay siege to Sunspear.” 

“It would have to be an assault with just our dragons, since our army will be on the other side of Dorne at the Red Mountains.” Rhaenyra exhaled and leaned back on the couch. She looked out at the view from the balcony. She could see the Dragonpit off in the distance, rising high among the thousands of red tile roofed houses and buildings of the city. 

“I think it would be most logical to use Vhagar as well,” continued Rhaenys, “perhaps Dreamfyre. With those three, they are the biggest dragons we have.” 

“Helaena has no taste for flying off to battle.” sighed Rhaenyra. There was an echoing roar coming from far off in the distance. Rhaenys and Rhaenyra looked at one another and then out from the balcony’s view. Rhaenyra sat up. A great blue beast rose out from the Dragonpit. Dreamfyre. 

“What a coincidence…” muttered Rhaenys. 

“There also lie the unclaimed dragons at Dragonstone.” noted Rhaenyra, “Vermithor, Silvering, and Seasmoke. They are all formidable, especially Vermithor and Silverwing.” 

“Perhaps in time,” considered Rhaenys, “Prince Jacaerys will claim a new dragon.” Rhaenyra nodded subtlety. She could only hope for such a thing to occur. But it had been too soon. 

Upon Princess Rhaenys leaving the Queen to herself after tea, the Prince Consort made his way to the apartments. The two passed by one another in the hall, as Rhaenys left, and Aegon arrived. Aegon entered the room, being announced by Ser Harrold. 

“Your grace, Prince Aegon.” said Ser Harrold to Rhaenyra, as she was taking a quick gulp of the remainder of her tea. She walked in from the balcony, meeting Aegon in the middle of the room. Aegon was still just wearing his light robe, and Rhaenyra chuckled. 

“Where are your clothes?” she asked playfully. 

“I just came from the bathhouse… so I do not know, in all honesty.” he said with a shrug. Rhaenyra smiled as she walked into the main living room. She had another cup of tea in her hands, 

“Are you thirsty?” she offered. 

“Yes, but not for tea.” sighed Aegon, looking around the room for a pitcher of wine. Rhaenyra already knew what he was looking for. 

“The handmaidens are fetching a fresh pitcher.” said Rhaenyra, “They just left a little while ago.” 

“Ah.” said Aegon, putting his hands on his hips. He watched as Rhaenyra walked into the opened bedroom and take off her shoes with ease. She lifted up her dress slightly to kick off her shoes. He lingered over to the doorway. 

“How did Small Council go?” he asked. 

“It went well, I believe. We have a plan, mostly.” she responded. He rested his hand on the trim of the doorway, admiring Rhaenyra. She was taking off a large necklace, and turned to look at Aegon. He looked at her hour-glass figure that was accentuated by her fit, red, gown. “We are going to rally troops from the Reach to converge at the Red Mountains, and we will send an assault group of dragons to Sunspear.” 

“I will go, and lead the effort.” said Aegon confidently. Rhaenyra scoffed lightly, 

“Rhaenys will be leading the effort, since she is most experienced.” Aegon walked into the bedroom, stepping closer to Rhaenyra. 

“Then send me with her. I want to finish what I started.” he said in a low voice. Rhaenyra looked up at Aegon. His confidence made her heart skip a beat. She didn’t really expect that from him before. 

“The goal is not to burn down Sunspear.” said the Queen softly in a whisper. She caressed Aegon’s face, brushing back some of his hair behind his ear, “We will give House Martell one last chance.” 

“They killed your son’s dragon,” exclaimed Aegon furiously, “they should have no more chances.” 

“A storm of fire would not only kill Qoren Martell, but far many others.” insisted Rhaenyra. 

“Then we destroy his palace.” 

“Destroying a castle will not resolve this.” Rhaenyra raised her voice slightly, “The path with the least amount of destruction and death is to get the Martells to bend the knee.” Aegon scoffed and shook his head, pacing around the bed, away from Rhaenyra. 

“They will take you for a pushover,” he muttered. 

“Is that what you think of me?” she said firmly.  

“No, of course not,” stammered Aegon, “I want you to display your strength. Show them that they have evaded our rule for far too long. If House Martell refuses, then House Martell should not be left to govern.” Rhaenyra crossed her arms and turned away from Aegon’s eyes. He had a point. They would be rewarding the Martells for their generations of disobedience by allowing them to continue to rule over Dorne with some autonomy. 

Aegon walked back over to Rhaenyra, touching her arms, and then moving his hands down to her waist. He rubbed her lower back, his hands trailing down her buttocks. 

“You’ve got pent up energy, I can tell.” whispered Rhaenyra. Aegon inhaled deeply, grabbing Rhaenyra’s buttocks with a firmer grasp. He pulled her in closer, her body touching his. 

“You’re all that’s on my mind.” he said quietly. Aegon began to kiss Rhaenyra, on her lips, down her neck, down her chest. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” she whispered as he continued to lather her in kisses. Aegon stopped and looked at Rhaenyra. The two stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Aegon lifted Rhaenyra’s face up from her chin with a finger, leaning in to kiss her on her lips again. 

“I’m a Targaryen,” he whispered confidently, “I am the blood of the dragon.” 

“Mount me, then.” 

Aegon was quick to pull off Rhaenyra’s dress and take off his own robe. Rhaenyra laid on her back on their large bed, her legs closed. Aegon got on the bed and slowly crawled up onto her, spreading her legs open. His thick seven inch cock was already hard as an iron rod. He kissed Rhaenyra’s abdomen, moving down to her pelvis, and down to her cunt. He licked lightly around the lips, moving inward, and inserting a finger in her. Rhaenyra gasped lightly, and Aegon pushed his tongue in her further, licking inside of her. 

Rhaenyra held her hands on the top of Aegon’s head, scruffing his hair as she convulsed in pleasure. Aegon glanced up as he continued to eat her out, seeing her with her mouth gaping open as she gasped in pleasure. He couldn’t wait any more, he was feeling impatient, his cock was throbbing hard, and dripping wet. Aegon propped himself up onto Rhaenyra and held his cock at her hole. He gently pushed his cock inside her and laid his body fully on top of his wife, and Rhaenyra moaned softly and quietly. 

Aegon rested his elbow beside Rhaenyra’s head, caressing her hair, and using his other hand to rub her clit as he thrusted in her. He was quick to fucking her with a fast rhythm, sliding in and out of her with ease. Rhaenyra kissed Aegon passionately, wrapping her arms around his back and neck. 

“Yes,” she moaned, “yes, yes, harder.” Aegon refrained from kissing Rhaenyra to get a better look at her, propping up a few inches. He looked deeply into her eyes, breathing heavily as he fucked her. 

“Do you like that cock?” groaned Aegon sensually in Rhaenyra’s ear. 

“Yes…” she exhaled deeply. Aegon sat straight up, putting his hands at Rhaenyra’s hips, thrusting in her harder as he sat on his knees. He pressed his lips together as he kept on pounding her, getting closer and closer. 

“Almost… I’m close…” he panted. 

“Give it to me.” she begged, “Don’t stop…” Aegon’s jaw dropped as he came inside her, groaning loudly and giving a couple last hard thrusts into her. Aegon then collapsed onto Rhaenyra, and she ran her fingers down his back. The two exhaled with pleasure and relief. She looked into Aegon’s eyes longingly. Aegon began to smile, and kissed Rhaenyra once more. Aegon brushed aside some of Rhaenyra’s hair. They did not break eye contact with one another. It was as if the two were in a trance. 

“Do you love me?” whispered Aegon curiously. Rhaenyra’s eyes glistened, she was slightly taken aback. She could feel Aegon’s heart racing against her own chest as he still lied on top of her. 

“I do,” she admitted, caressing his face once again. Aegon adored the soft and warm touch of Rhaenyra’s hand on his cheek. It was comforting, it was soothing. “Do you love me?” she asked him. Aegon shook his head, 

“I do. I - I love you.” he laid his head down on Rhaenyra’s chest, and she rubbed his head. 

…

Helaena could not contain her grin of joy and excitement as she rode aback of Dreamfyre, with Jacaerys holding on right behind. Jacaerys held his hands around Helaena’s waist, and he was also buckled into the saddle for extra precaution. Helaena’s hair was braided into a round bun on the back of her neck, and luckily so, as it would have blinded Jace from the strong winds of flight. The wind tugged hard at Jacaerys’ hair, he was shocked by Dreamfyre’s speed given her enormous size. 

The two Targaryens flew over King’s Landing, crossing over the center of the city, flying towards the Red Keep. Dreamfyre let out a deep roar into the sky, dipping downward. Helaena began to laugh with content, but Jace held on tighter to Helaena. They seared through white puffy clouds, coming upon the red roofed homes of the city. Dreamfyre glided upward just a dozen meters above the cityscape. A cloud of dust and sand kicked up from her wake, trailing behind the dragon’s long fin-like tail. The beat of Dreamfyre’s wings were loud and bellowing, echoing across the entire city. The blue dragon flew over the Red Keep, soaring past a fleeting flock of seagulls that cried out in fear. The two Targaryens were heading to Blackwater Bay.  

“What is that?” asked Jacaerys, leaning against Helaena’s back. 

“What?” she called back to him. 

“There, on the horizon.” he pointed quickly, but was afraid of losing his grip and falling. Helaena looked forward to the cloudy horizon. “A dragon.” noted Jacaerys. And a dragon it was. Helaena could now see it was a large dragon, but she could only see its silhouette from their distance. The dragon’s wings flapped slowly, and both Helaena and Jacaerys realized it had to be a massive dragon… and an old one. 

Chapter Text

Daemon 

Pentos

Prince Daemon Targaryen stood still on top of a small stool as a pair of servants fitted his new armor in one of the many rooms of the Pentoshi Palace armory. The armor was lighter than his traditional Targaryen armor, and he doubted if it would be as protective. But, the armor was commissioned and paid for by Magister Deloro Ballant. He was to lead the expedition to the Stepstones. Daemon held his arms out as his gauntlets were fastened. They had sharp ridges, intricate swirling designs, and were a light steel gray color. 

“How does it feel, my prince?” Magister Deloro Ballant entered the room with an eager look in his eyes. The young man wore a long dark blue robe lined with gold and silver. 

“Skeptical.” he admitted, with a sigh. 

“Oh? Do tell me why.” 

“This armor is extremely light. I question its ability to protect me from even a pencil-thin arrow.” Daemon looked down at his own armor, and then back at Deloro. Deloro held his hands together and began to smirk, 

“This set of armor was molded and smithed with a mixture of Valyrian steel and Yi Ti iron.” 

“Targaryen armor was entirely Valyrian steel.” noted Daemon. Deloro stepped forward, closer to Daemon, and looked up at him, 

“I do not demean the value of Valyrian steel, but Yi Ti iron has similar qualities and is even lighter in weight. It is a rare resource, very exquisite, and should provide you with some easier mobility.” Daemon was now impressed. He hadn’t heard much about iron from Yi Ti, the region in the far southeastern region of Essos. It was a distant land of legends and myths to him. 

“Then I put my faith in you, Magister.” said Daemon. Deloro grinned, 

“Excellent.” the servants finished fitting and fastening the armor onto Daemon. The Westerosi prince lowered his arms and stepped down from the stool. The armor was in fact lighter than his old Targaryen armor. The shoulder epaulets were pointed and broad, but he could swivel his arms comfortably. 

“How do you feel?” asked Deloro, examining the armor up and down Daemon’s body. The Westerosi prince stood a few inches taller than Deloro, and he watched as Deloro seemed to scan his body. 

“Just fine, ready to put it to the test.” he said in a low voice. Deloro looked up the chest plate of Daemon’s armor, up the chain-like collar piece, and then to his eyes. The two men looked one another in the eye. 

“Is your dragon ready?” asked Deloro quietly. 

“My dragon is always ready.” smirked Daemon, “Ready for action.” 

Aemond 

King’s Landing

Prince Aemond often woke up early every morning, usually an hour or two after sunrise. He would brush his hair, put on his eyepatch, get dressed, and head to the dining hall for breakfast. His bedchambers were near the rest of his family’s, with Helaena’s room just beside his. As he walked out of his bedroom, greeting a knight of the Kingsguard that stood in the hall guarding, he passed by Helaena’s bedroom. Her door was shut. He stopped in front of the door but did not face it, thinking about her. He thought about seeing if the door was locked. He could do it quickly without really anyone noticing, and the knight surely wouldn’t say anything to a prince. 

Aemond kept on walking. He did not want to disturb her. The next room was his mother’s, yet there wasn’t any knight standing outside the door. Ser Criston should be standing outside her door, however, he knew there was something strange going on between his mother and Ser Criston. The next few doors were empty apartments that had no inhabitants. There used to be Luke’s room, and then Rhaena’s, but the two were off at Driftmark with Lord Corlys. 

The last room in the hall was Jacaerys’, and Aemond stopped in front of it. The door was open by just a crack, and he heard footsteps inside. His heart was beginning to pound harder against his chest. He had a desire to see Jacaerys, and he approached the door. Aemond knocked on the door, and it opened a few inches more. He peeked inside, and Jacaerys was in the middle of the room, with a handful of books on a circular table. 

“What do you want?” asked Jacaerys. The young Prince was still in his nightly clothes, a light beige tunic shirt that was nearly transparent, and loose trousers. Jacaerys’ room was like many of the others of the younger princes and princesses, it had a small lounge area and then the bedroom in a separate room. The lounge area was quite small, there were a couple bookshelves, a desk, and some lit candles. 

“Interesting way to say good morrow.” said Aemond dryly, stepping into the room. He remained near the doorway, so as not to fully intrude, “What are those?” He eyed the books on the table. Jacaerys slammed one of them shut. 

“History books.” 

“Didn’t think you were a fan of history.” Aemond clasped his hands behind his back and walked into the room, looking down at the book covers. The first was titled Dragons of House Targaryen . “Dragons?” 

“You don’t know me, so don’t make assumptions.” snapped Jace, “And yes.” he gulped. 

“I know you,” Aemond touched the cover of the book and opened it. The first few pages were about Balerion the Black Dread. There were sketches of the black beast, and then text describing its appearance, “I saw you out on Dreamfyre yesterday.”  

“Yes, Helaena took me on a short ride.” said Jace quietly. 

“Did you enjoy it?” asked Aemond. Jacaerys shrugged his shoulders, 

“Every dragon ride is exciting.” 

“More than with Vhagar?” Aemond eyed Jace. Jace started to chuckled, 

“Jealous, are you?” Aemond was not amused and did not crack a smile, and Jace awkwardly stopped laughing. 

“Perhaps I could take you out on Vhagar again.” said Aemond quietly, closing the book and pacing around the room. He looked around at the bookshelves, they were dusty and uncleaned. He then looked at the small bedroom off to the side, where the bed covers and blankets were amess and not yet made. 

“I’m fine,” said Jace bluntly. Aemond stopped and turned his head to look at Jace. He stared at Jace, at his brown eyes, then glanced down at his plump lips. Aemond slowly walked over to Jace, and Jace remained still. Jace put one hand on the chair near him at the table, and nervously watched Aemond approach him. 

“Do you still think about me,” Aemond asked, touching Jace’s chin. Aemond was taller than Jace by about six inches, as he stood about six feet tall, and lifted Jace’s gaze to his own, “or does Helaena take up all of your thoughts?” Aemond firmly gripped Jace’s chin and jaw, leaning in closer and closer to Jace’s lips. Jace closed his eyes and tried to turn his face away. Aemond straightened Jace to face him again, tightening his grip on his jaw. 

“I think about you,” whispered Aemond, grazing his nose against Jace’s nose. He then skimmed his lips across Jace’s lips, “when we fled Dorne, and you held onto me.” his hot breath hit Jace’s lips. 

“I didn’t want to let go.” muttered Jace. Aemond’s eye widened, and he let go of Jace’s face. He wasn’t expecting Jace to say that. The two remained silent as they stared at each other. Jace lifted his hand and reached towards Aemond’s face, to his cheek, right underneath his eyepatch. Jace’s fingers lightly touched Aemond’s face. His thumb moved up to his eyepatch, and Aemond immediately snatched Jace’s wrist. Aemond held Jace’s wrist tightly, as if he were going to block his blood flow. As they continued to stare into each other’s eyes, Aemond loosened his grip on Jace’s wrist. Jace lowered his fingers away from his eyepatch, and caressed Aemond’s lower cheek and jaw.  

Aemond quickly leaned forward and kissed Jacaerys passionately, running one hand through his thick, curly, brown hair, and the other down his lower back. Jacaerys was pushed into the chair and table. Aemond picked Jace up by his waist to sit him on the table, shoving the books off the table and chair. Aemond squeezed Jace’s ass, pushing his body between his opened legs. Aemond pressed his bulge against Jace’s, thrusting his hips lightly. 

There was a knock at the door and Aemond jolted back away from Jacaerys, and Jacaerys slid off the table onto his feet. The door slowly swung open, and standing in the doorway was Helaena. Jace wiped his lip and Aemond held his head low. 

“Helaena,” said Jace, donning a quick smile, “good morrow.” 

“Hello,” she said awkwardly, “just came to get you. Your mother has called us all down for breakfast.” 

“I’ll be right there, thank you.” he said in response. Helaena nodded and glanced at Aemond, who was avoiding eye contact with her. She then turned around and continued down the hall. Aemond was turned away even from Jacaerys, and they both listened as Helaena’s footsteps faded as she got farther down the hall. 

“Do you think she saw us?” whispered Jace. Aemond began walking to the door. 

“No. I’ll see you at breakfast.” he said coldly, leaving Jace alone in his room. 

Highgarden

Lady Elinor Tyrell was a young woman, twenty eight years old, and was now entering her second year serving as Regent Warden of the Reach. The death of her husband, the Lord of Highgarden, did not take the province by surprise. Lord Tyrell was old and weak, unable to walk in his final years, and his decrees and orders were carried out by his Maester and a handful of advisors. There hadn’t ever been a woman that led House Tyrell, especially one that married into the family. But, Lady Elinor was adored by the people of her province, and respected by its lords. 

“I asked you all here today, because I foresee us being called to action for her grace, the Queen.” Lady Elinor proclaimed, as she sat on the throne of her castle. The Highgarden throne was carved of a deep dark mahogany wood, with carvings of vines and thorns. The throne sat on a dais above the main court hall, which was lined with six thick marble columns and stained glass windows. A rainbow of rays of sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the white marble floor. Standing before Lady Elinor were four men: Lord Hubert Hightower of Oldtown, Lord Mercer Tarly of Horn Hill, Lord Layne Blackbar of Bandallon, and Lord Garyth Caswell of Bitterbridge. They were all men above forty years of age. 

“And,” continued Lady Elinor, “each of you holds the largest number of soldiers and knights. I received a raven from Queen Rhaenyra, and she will soon send an emissary.” 

“My lady,” Lord Garyth spoke up, “are we being called to war?” 

“Perhaps, yes.” said Elinor, “I do not know the details of what is to come, but we will be needed at the Red Mountains of Dorne.” 

“Surely the Queen understands,” Lord Hubert began, “that prior to the Conquest, our kingdom has fought for centuries against the Dornish… without much avail.” 

“Queen Rhaenyra is educated in history, yes, Lord Hubert.” said Elinor, “Her message does not detail the start of an invasion, but preparation for one if that is the course she takes. Diplomacy is the first attempt she will be taking.” 

“My lady, may I speak freely?” asked Lord Blackbar. 

“Yes, Lord Blackbar.” 

“We are reluctant in this… quest of her grace, the Queen,” he said. 

“Please elaborate on what you mean, my lord.” Elinor focused her gaze on Lord Blackbar. 

“Her father, and his father before him, both Kings, were wise to accept that Dorne would never falter. That fighting to subjugate Dorne is a suicidal, vanity project.” explained Blackbar, “We would be throwing men to their immediate death. We question the Queen’s intentions, with all due respect.” 

“You needn’t question the Queen,” said Elinor, “as her grace is merely rallying soldiers as a precautionary method. Now, I would like to know how many soldiers you’d all be able to deploy. Lord Hubert?” She looked at the Hightower first. Hubert Hightower cleared his throat, 

“Oldtown has twenty one thousand in reserve, with another nine thousand from our vassal houses. Thirty thousand total.” 

“Lord Caswell?” asked Elinor. 

“Ten thousand, my lady.” 

“Lord Blackbar?” 

“Thirteen thousand, my lady.” 

“Lord Tarly?” asked Elinor. Lord Mercer Tarly remained quiet. Elinor cleared her throat, “Lord Tarly, I am speaking to you.” she raised her brow. Mercer Tarly held his hands behind his back, 

“My lady, I cannot in full confidence endorse this act,” he said. 

“Well, fortunately for you, I am not seeking your endorsement.” she said strictly, “Now, tell me how many soldiers you have in reserve currently.” Tarly lowered his head, exhaling and mumbling under his breath. 

“Sixteen thousand.” 

“Excellent,” said Elinor with a sigh of relief, “I’ll have each of you send ravens to your homes to begin deployment. The garrisons shall all rendezvous at Nightsong, and I shall inform House Caron of the soldiers’ arrival.” 

The Red Keep

King’s Landing

“I know it is not usual for us to dine all together for breakfast, but I needed to discuss Dorne with you all.” said Rhaenyra, as she sat at the head of the long dining table. Breakfast had been served and each family member had a large plate of roasted ham, boiled eggs, and greens on their plate. Seated at Rhaenyra’s right side was her consort, Prince Aegon, and on her left was Princess Rhaenys. On Aegon’s side of the table sat Alicent, Helaena, and Aemond. On Rhaenys’ side of the table sat Baela, Jacaerys, and little Joffrey. 

“I am mustering up an army in the Reach to march to the Red Mountains, in the event that we commence a full-scale invasion of Dorne.” continued Rhaenyra, “But, our primary focus… will be to force Prince Qoren Martell to bend the knee.” The family was quiet at the table. “I will be sending a team of dragonriders and their dragons to Sunspear, led by Princess Rhaenys, to speak with Qoren Martell. This is going to be a risk, and I will not force any of you to do this if you do not wish to.” Rhaenyra looked around at the table. Jacaerys kept his head low. She could already sense how he felt, that he couldn’t help since he didn’t have a dragon any longer. 

“I will go.” said Aemond, “I have to.” Rhaenyra nodded. 

“I will as well.” said Aegon, and Rhaenyra nodded with a small smirk at her husband. 

“Moondancer has grown significantly in recent years,” joined Baela, “I would like to join.” 

“Four dragons will be formidable,” said Rhaenys, “Meleys, Vhagar, Sunfyre, and Moondancer.”  

“As will Dreamfyre,” said Helaena softly. Everyone shot a surprised look at the Princess.

“Helaena,” uttered Alicent worriedly. 

“Dreamfyre is the second largest dragon that we have.” said Helaena, “We must use her to our advantage of intimidation. But… I do not want to burn down Sunspear...”

“We are not to lay waste to Sunspear,” reassured the Queen, “if Qoren Martell refuses to bend the knee… then I give you all permission to burn down the Water Gardens palace.” Helaena sat still and somewhat nervously. She never rode into any battle, she never had to burn anything down with Dreamfyre. She had never even flown as far as Dorne. Alicent reached to touch Helaena’s hand and looked at her, 

“Are you sure?” and Helaena nodded confidently. Rhaenyra could see the apprehension in Alicent’s wide brown eyes. 

“Helaena and Dreamfyre can circle the city perimeter to scan for any enemy activity,” said Rhaenyra, “along with Baela and Moondancer, and Aemond and Vhagar. Rhaenys and Aegon will go to the Water Gardens to meet with Qoren Martell. I have already sent a raven to Sunspear informing of our impending arrival, along with tens of thousands of soldiers through the Prince’s Pass. Lord Corlys has already set sail with a fleet of ships and more men to meet at Sunspear, if needed.” 

“Are we confident that the Prince Consort and Princess would be safe on the ground in the Water Gardens?” asked Alicent. 

“That is a question I posed to them.” said Rhaenyra, she first looked at Rhaenys.  

“My lord husband should be there by the time we arrive, we should not be alone.” said the Princess. 

“I just fear for their safety.” continued Alicent, “Prince Jacaerys’ dragon was shot down quickly and easily…” Jacaerys looked up and across the table. He caught Aemond staring at him. 

“Then I suggest we just burn down the Water Gardens.” sighed Aemond, looking away from Jace to the Queen. Princess Rhaenys gave a stern stare at the middle Prince, and Aemond noticed. 

“No.” responded Rhaenyra, “We will not take lives if there is a peaceful path.” 

“Your grace, we are giving House Martell the opportunity to rebel once again in the future.” argued Aemond. 

“Qoren Martell will be brought to justice.” spoke up Aegon confidently. Aemond exhaled and began eating his food to avoid getting drawn into a heated argument. 

“This will be the time when Dorne finally bends the knee to the Crown.” said Rhaenyra, “To me.”

…

Later that morning after breakfast, Aemond trailed Jacaerys through the Red Keep. Prince Jacaerys did not head back up to his bedchambers, but instead to the royal library. The royal library was located in Maegor’s Holdfast, but near its midsection levels. Aemond kept his distance as he followed Jacaerys, ensuring that Jacaerys did not see him. 

The royal library was a cavernous hall with towering shelves and its walls filled with scrolls and books. The library was two floors, with a balcony on the second floor that gave a view of the first floor. Jacaerys made his way to the second floor, knowing exactly where to go. The library was empty, with the exception of Jace and Aemond, yet Jace thought he was alone. 

Jacaerys walked into one of the aisles between two tall bookshelves and slowly examined the books on either side of him. He scanned the titles written on the spines of the old books, searching. 

“What are you looking for?” asked Aemond. Jace was startled and jumped around. He gulped nervously, 

“Fucking hell. Did you follow me?” Aemond stood in the middle of the aisle, blocking Jace’s only way out, as the shelves went all the way to the wall. Aemond took a few steps forward and Jace took a few steps back. 

“Just curious as to where you were headed,” said Aemond. 

“Don’t you have your trip to prepare for?” asked Jace nervously. Aemond shrugged his shoulders, 

“I pack lightly, don’t you remember?” he smirked. Aemond stopped upon noticing that Jace was distancing himself. Aemond had a confused look on his face. 

“We can’t.” muttered Jace. 

“Can’t what?” 

“This. Whatever the fuck this is.” hissed Jace, pointing between himself and Aemond. 

“Oh,” Aemond sighed, “did someone tell you we can’t?” 

“It’s wrong.” responded Jace. 

“Did someone say it’s wrong?” Aemond stepped forward again. Jacaerys did not have a response and just remained quiet. He looked at Aemond’s eye, down his long nose, to his lips, and back to his eye. 

“You’re just lustful.” said Jace, “You can’t keep your cock in your pants.” 

“That is incorrect.” Aemond shook his head subtly. 

“Then what is it you want with me?” blurted Jace. Aemond grunted and spun around, walking over to the railing of the balcony. He leaned on the balcony and looked down at the first floor below. Jace slowly walked out of the aisle, standing just at its entrance, and watched Aemond hunching over the railing. 

“You just want Helaena,” continued Jace quietly. 

“I don’t.” 

“I’ve seen how you’re around her before.” he insisted sharply. 

“And I made a mistake.” snapped Aemond angrily. He gripped his hands around the round railing, so tight that his veins in his hands nearly protruded through his skin. “It’s not her that I think about.” Jace scoffed. 

“You’re mindless, Aemond.” 

“And you’re just as lost as I am,” said Aemond. Jacaerys’ tightened resolve in his face began to soften. He walked up to Aemond’s side, standing beside him at the railing. Aemond turned his head, seeing that Jace was looking at him with softened eyes. They did not speak a word to one another and just remained in each other’s presence, admiring one another. Aemond turned his body to face Jacaerys. 

“I leave in the morning for Dorne.” said Aemond in a gentle voice, “It’ll be perhaps a week until I return. I will avenge Vermax… for you.” Jace’s eyes began to swell with tears. 

“Burn them all.” muttered Jace through his clenched teeth. 

Helaena 

Helaena stood on her knees beside her bedchamber’s main table, where atop the table sat three small cages. Inside the cages were an array of different insects, crickets, and spiders. She had an opened book beside the cages where she was writing about each of the miniscule creatures. 

“I just think you should think this through more, Helaena.” said Alicent, pacing nervously around her daughter’s room. Alicent’s shoulders were stiff, and she picked at her fingernails anxiously. “You are not like the rest of them, you are not a killer-”

“I am not a killer. But I won’t be killing anyone.” said Helaena softly, tapping on the cages with the crickets that were quiet. “My brothers will need my help. Rhaenyra needs my help.” 

“I’m afraid.” exhaled Alicent deeply, and she rubbed her forehead. Helaena stood up and wrote down a few notes in her book. 

“That is alright, mother.” she said gently, “But I will be alright, we all will. The snakes slither in the sands of fire.” she muttered. Alicent looked at her daughter curiously, but then she headed for the door. She stood at the door before she left and glanced one last time at her daughter. Helaena stopped writing and looked at her mother. 

“Things will change when we return.” Helaena said plainly. Alicent shook her head, confused,

“What will?” 

“My hands are not for him.” she responded. Helaena let out a little sigh of relief, as if she had a weight lifted off her shoulders. Alicent had no idea what she was referring to. But, the strange, riddle-like statements were commonplace for her daughter. 

Rhaenyra & Aegon

Late that night after dinner, Rhaenyra and Aegon retired to their bedchambers. It was the night before Aegon and the others would depart for Dorne. Aegon and Rhaenyra lay in bed together, nude, with just a light blanket over them. Aegon sat up on the bed against the headboard, and Rhaenyra laid on his chest. She ran her fingers lightly up and down his torso, from his chest, down to his belly. Aegon held one arm wrapped around Rhaenyra’s shoulders, holding her close. For the most part, they were laying in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. However, Aegon soon broke that silence. 

“Do you think… that you will be with child?” he asked. Rhaenyra stopped running her fingers up and down Aegon’s body. 

“It is possible,” she said, “but I haven’t given it any thought.” 

“What would you name it,” he looked down at her, “if it were a girl?” Rhaenyra continued caressing her husband. 

“Visenya.” she answered, “I’ve always loved the name… just like the conqueror.” 

“And what for a boy?” 

“Hm, what would you choose?” she asked, looking up at him. Aegon wasn’t expecting to be given much of a choice. 

“Me? You’re the Queen.” 

“I am, but you are the father.” Aegon smiled and rested his head on the board of the bed. 

“I’m not sure,” he said with a deep sigh, “perhaps a name that has yet to be used in the family.” 

“I would not be opposed to that.” Rhaenyra looked up at Aegon, and he looked back at her. 

“Do you want more children?” he asked. 

“Well, at our current rate of time together, it is inevitable.” she chuckled, “But if the gods will it, then so be it.” 

“I never imagined my life going in this direction.” said Aegon warmly, “I was afraid at first, I must admit.”

“I know.” she said, “As was I. I thought I would remain alone for the rest of my days, after Laenor passed.” Aegon shook his head in understanding. 

“Do you think about Daemon?” Rhaenyra was taken aback, she hadn’t heard or even thought of that name in ages. 

“No. It is rare if I do. There is only one man I often find myself thinking of,” They looked at one another. Rhaenyra leaned upward and kissed Aegon. He pulled Rhaenyra to sit on top of him, and she pushed off the blanket. She grinded against his cock, feeling it harden against her cunt. She slid back and forth, grinding harder against Aegon’s cock, and leaned forward to continue kissing him. Aegon put his hands on Rhaenyra’s hips, guiding her humping more forcefully. Aegon lowered his pelvis, allowing his cock to point upward, and slid inside of Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra moaned softly, holding her lips near Aegon’s lips. Aegon gently thrust deeper, and Rhaenyra began to ride him. She kept her hands on his chiseled chest as she bounced on his throbbing cock. Aegon liked that she was taking control. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them, flicking his fingers against her hardening nipples. 

“Fuck yes,” grunted Aegon in a deep voice. Aegon wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra’s back and sat upright. Rhaenyra then folded her legs around Aegon’s back, with her chest right up against his. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra’s neck and breasts, aiding her in bouncing harder on his cock. He felt a primal, hormonal, rage-like instinct that had to burst. He turned Rhaenyra onto her back and laid on top of her to fuck her. Aegon slid in deeper, causing Rhaenyra to gasp and moan, 

“Aegon…” she gasped, closing her eyes from the intense pleasure. Aegon’s lips curled into a smile, twisting his hips slightly as he thrusted deep inside her. Rhaenyra grabbed the bed sheet and clinched tightly. He loved being on top of her, pounding her sensually, prying her legs open. “Oh Aegon,” she moaned. He realized this was the first time she moaned his name during sex, and he adored it, he craved more of it. 

“Fuck you’re tight,” groaned Aegon. He leaned in to kiss Rhaenyra, interlocking his lips with hers. “You’re mine…” he growled sensually. Rhaenyra gripped the back of Aegon’s head and clawed his back. 

“I want it.” she whispered. 

“You want it?” teased Aegon. 

“Yes,” she moaned. 

“My load? Deep in you?” 

“Yes, yes,” she moaned louder. Aegon began fucking her faster, sweat forming at his forehead and chest, glistening against his skin. 

“Oh fuck I’m coming!” moaned Aegon, throwing his head back as he ejaculated inside of Rhaenyra, grunting loudly. Rhaenyra gasped and moaned, scratching Aegon’s back and wrapping her legs around his buttocks. He breathed heavily and collapsed on top of Rhaenyra, closing his eyes. Rhaenyra smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t want to leave you tomorrow,” muttered Aegon, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Rhaenyra’s neck, “I want to stay and fuck you.” Rhaenyra chuckled and rubbed his back. 

Jacaerys

Jacaerys had finished taking a bath at the bathhouse and had gone back to his bedchambers late in the night. The walk back to his room was quiet and tranquil, as most of the servants had gone to their own separate quarters in the Red Keep. There weren’t as many knights on patrol as they also needed their rest. He often liked the quiet of nighttime. It reminded him of Dragonstone, except he couldn’t hear the crashing waves of the sea as well as he did back home. 

Jacaerys stepped into his room but hesitated and stood still. He saw his bed on the far end of the room, it was neatly made, the blankets crisp and straight. The room was chilly from the opened window. He began to think about Aemond and their conversation earlier in the day. But why was he thinking of Aemond? Jacaerys wanted to know why he kept coming to his mind. Aemond was always a bully growing up when he grew up in the Red Keep, especially against Lucerys. All reasons point to disliking Aemond, not feeling an urge to see him. Jacaerys stormed out of his room and down the hall. 

Jacaerys reached an apartment down a separate corridor on another floor, and he knocked on the door. 

“Come.” said a voice inside. Jacaerys opened the door, walking into Aemond’s room, and shut the door behind him. Aemond was preparing to get into bed, wearing a light night robe that was loosely tied. Most of his chest and abs were visible from the robe’s opening. 

“What is it?” asked Aemond, drying his hands with a towel after washing them from a nearby bowl of cold water. Jace walked up to Aemond silently, standing just an inch away from him. Jace looked up at Aemond, and Aemond stared back into Jace’s brown eyes. Jace quickly reached for Aemond’s face, gripping his chin like Aemond had done to him before. Aemond gasped, but remained still as Jace held his face tightly. Jacaerys examined Aemond’s lips, pulling Aemond closer to his own lips. Just before touching Aemond’s lips with his own, Jace stepped back and let go of Aemond. 

Jace walked over to Aemond’s bed in the corner of the small room, got into Aemond’s bed quietly and held the blanket open for Aemond to join him. Aemond slowly approached the bed and climbed inside. His bare feet and legs grazed against Jace’s legs and feet. The two young men were leaning on their sides, facing one another. 

Jacaerys lifted a hand and held Aemond’s cheek, right underneath his eyepatch. Aemond began to feel nervous, and his heart raced. He turned his face into Jace’s hand, as nervous as he was, he liked Jace’s touch. Jace moved his fingers up to Aemond’s eyepatch. Aemond immediately grabbed Jace’s hand once again, but not as hard or firm like he did earlier in the day. 

“I won’t hurt you.” whispered Jace. Aemond’s one eye was wide and innocent as he looked at Jace. Aemond inhaled deeply and then released his grip on Jace’s hand. Jace gulped nervously and slowly lifted the eyepatch, removing it entirely off of Aemond’s head. Aemond looked downward, ashamed of the sapphire that took the place of his left eye. With his thumb, Jace caressed Aemond’s skin right underneath his scarred sapphire eye, soothing him. Aemond put his hand on Jace’s again, but this time with a passionate, sensual touch. Aemond’s long silver hair spilled onto his broad chest. 

“Nobody has ever touched me like that,” admitted Aemond softly, his lips nearly quivering. 

“Do you like that?” asked Jace, and Aemond nodded his head. Jace then ran his hand down Aemond’s cheek, down his neck, and down his chest and chiseled breast. He liked how firm Aemond’s chest felt, muscular and tight. He pushed Aemond’s robe off his shoulder, rubbing his toned bicep. Aemond leaned forward, grazing his nose and lips against Jace’s ear, then down his neck, and he sniffed Jace. Aemond could smell the scent of lavender and peaches from the soaps he used for his bath. He found it attractive. Jace leaned his head back, allowing Aemond to kiss his neck with large swaths from his lips. Aemond licked Jace’s throat, then moved to his ear to bite his earlobe and lick it as well. Jace closed his eyes, sliding his hand into Aemond’s robe to gently grab his waist and pull him closer. Aemond moved towards Jace. Jace slowly rolled onto his back and Aemond laid partially on top of him. 

Aemond’s long hair spilled onto Jace’s chest and face, and he brushed some of it back as Aemond continued to kiss and lick his neck. Aemond moved to kiss Jace on his lips, sucking his soft pink lips. He moved one hand down Jace’s chest, opening Jace’s night robe. Aemond quickly undid the loose rope that held Jace’s robe closed, finally feeling his sunken belly on his hands. Aemond then slowly positioned his lower half on top of Jace’s groin, laying between his legs. Jace gasped upon feeling Aemond’s bulge pressing against his, and it was growing hard slowly. 

Aemond moved his hips ever so slightly, grazing his bare cock against Jace’s bulge. They were still separated by some of his robe, but Jace could feel Aemond’s thick cock pushing against his own. Jace put his hands on Aemond’s shoulders and pushed him slightly to stop Aemond from kissing him. 

“What is it?” asked Aemond in a whisper. Jace reached down with one hand, opening his robe, and grabbed Aemond’s bare ass to pull him downward. Their cocks were firmly pressed against one another, with Jace immediately becoming hard. 

“There.” said Jace, satisfyingly. Aemond then lowered his head to resume lathering Jacaerys in kisses, from his lips, to his neck, to his ears again. Aemond began to hump, grinding his cock against Jace’s. 

“I want to fuck you.” grunted Aemond, and Jace smiled. 

“Not yet,” he responded, clasping the back of Aemond’s head and his back. Jacaerys began moving his hips as well, and his cock began to throb harder as Aemond humped him. Aemond began to hump Jace harder, shaking the bed from his forceful thrusts. Jace then put his hands on Aemond’s shoulders again, motioning to push him back. Aemond stopped, and Jace turned Aemond onto his back on the bed. Jace climbed on top and sat on top of Aemond’s thighs, lining his cock up with his own. Jace spit into his hand and gripped both cocks in his hand, lubricating them both. Jace couldn’t wrap his hand around both of their cocks, but stroked them slowly at first. He moved his hips rhythmically, as if he were riding Aemond. 

Aemond put his hands on Jace’s waist, guiding his movements. Aemond began to breathe heavily, moving his own hips slightly, thrusting his cock into Jace’s tight grip of his hand and his cock. Jace began to use two hands to stroke their cocks and gripped them tighter. 

“Fuck…” grunted Aemond. 

“Come for me.” urged Jace. 

“Almost,” exhaled Aemond. 

“I’m close,” moaned Jace, stroking and humping faster. 

“Yes,” said Aemond, “harder. Fuck, yes.” 

“Fuck!” Jace leaned forward, jerking harder as he shot a load of cum onto Aemond’s chest. 

“Fuck me,” moaned Aemond, and he ejaculated just seconds after Jace, shooting ropes of cum onto his bare chest. Aemond twitched and closed his eyes, catching his breath. Jace got up off of the bed and reached for the towel on the nightstand. He took the towel over to the bowl of water and drenched it, wringed it, and brought it back to Aemond. Jace wiped the cum off of Aemond’s chest, wiped his cock, and then his own hands. Aemond laid in his bed, watching Jace walk back over to the table with the bowl of water. He was completely naked, and Aemond stared at his plump ass cheeks. 

Jace got back into the bed, laying next to Aemond. He pulled the blanket up onto their legs and just over their waists. Jacaerys rubbed his hands on Aemond’s soft chest. Aemond did not have any chest hair, he was cleanly shaven, and he liked that. Aemond turned his head on his pillow to look at Jacaerys. 

“I want to sleep here tonight, with you, before you leave tomorrow.” said Jace quietly. He ran his fingers down the center of Aemond’s chest, down to his belly. He eyed Aemond, “Is that alright?” Aemond nodded.

“I like the feeling of your body,” whispered Aemond. He took Jace’s hand in his own, and held it, interlocking his fingers with Jace’s. As Jacaerys rested his head on Aemond’s chest, he could feel Aemond’s heartbeat. It was slowing from a fast pace as Aemond began to relax. Jace felt safe and secure, he liked the warmth from Aemond’s smooth skin and body. Jacaerys stared blankly across the room… he suddenly thought about his betrothal to Helaena. He cared for her. But he also was feeling something for Aemond. This would be the last of it, no more with Aemond. He had to marry Helaena. He will need to have children with Helaena. He will need to spend the rest of his life with her, and Aemond would need to be married off as well.    

Chapter Text

The Red Keep

King’s Landing

The morning church bells rang and echoed throughout King’s Landing, coinciding with the departure of the assault team to Dorne; Rhaenys, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Baela. From the Dragonpit departed four dragons; first Sunfyre, followed by Meleys and Moondancer. Sunfyre let out a swooning call to the other dragons. In the distance approaching the Dragonpit from high in the clouds was Vhagar, bellowing deeply. Vhagar glided down dozens of meters to join the other three dragons. Then from the Dragonpit emerged Dreamfyre, roaring confidently to Vhagar. 

It was rare to see so many dragons at once in the skies over King’s Landing. To the smallfolk, it was a godly occurrence. They all paused and stopped what they were doing, craning their necks to look up into the sky, hearing the numerous calls and roars of the dragons overhead. The shadows quickly passed over, darkening alleys and streets for quick moments. The flock of five dragons flew south from the Dragonpit, towards the Red Keep. 

Queen Rhaenyra watched with Dowager Queen Alicent from the balcony of her apartments in the Red Keep as the dragons flew overhead. First flew Moondancer and Sunfyre, the fastest and smallest of the assault team. Then Meleys and Dreamfyre, with the Meleys letting out a rattle-like hiss as she flew overhead. Lastly, Vhagar slowly followed the other four dragons. 

Alicent stood beside Rhaenyra at the balcony’s stone railing, watching with anxious eyes as her three children flew overhead and were soon out of sight. 

“May the Seven protect them all,” she said softly. Rhaenyra looked at her old friend, reaching out her hand to touch Alicent’s hand on the railing, “I see this ending only in flames, your grace.” added Alicent. 

“Alicent, you must have faith.” urged Rhaenyra, she squeezed Alicent’s hand, and then headed inside to the apartment living room. “Come, have some tea with me. It will ease your nerves.” Alicent turned around and followed Rhaenyra into the living room. Rhaenyra’s handmaiden Elinda had just put down a silver platter of frosted lemon cakes, and a small ceramic pot of hot tea with two cups. 

Rhaenyra poured a cup of tea and handed it to Alicent as she sat on one of the couches. Rhaenyra then poured herself a cup and sat on the opposite couch. 

“Have you heard anything from Highgarden? About the armies?” asked Alicent. 

“Yes,” said Rhaenyra, taking a sip of her tea, “Lady Elinor has secured thirty thousand soldiers that will march to Nightsong, at the entrance of the Prince’s Pass through the Red Mountains.” 

“That is a sizable army, I am shocked.” said Alicent. She was surprised that the Reach was able to muster an army so large so quickly, in just a matter of days. 

“Well, it will take some time for them to march to Nightsong. Then, it will be up to the Martells if they are to invade or not.” sighed Rhaenyra stressfully, “I pray they do not force conflict upon themselves. I would be breaking over seventy years of peacetime…” 

“It is not your fault,” said Alicent, holding her cup of tea in her hands on her lap, “the Martells brought this upon themselves. And besides, this was a war continuously put off by your father and King Jaehaerys. May they rest in peace.” 

“But there seemed to be an unspoken acceptance that Dorne would be left alone,” Rhaenyra shook her head, “their refusal to come to the capital was a disgrace, and an embarrassment to me.” 

“Have you considered which house would be given to Dorne if the Martells are defeated?” asked Alicent. 

“I’ve thought of two possible choices,” said Rhaenyra, “House Dayne or House Santagar. House Dayne, on the far western side of Dorne, borders your home’s territory of House Hightower. They have always expressed their desire to be more connected to the Reach, to expand trade and economic ties, I’ve always seen this as contradictory to everything House Martell has stood for.” 

“Aye, yes, the Daynes have often been in communication with my uncle and my grandfather over the years.” noted Alicent, “What about House Santagar?” 

“According to some research done by the Grand Maester and old texts, House Santagar was the only family in Dorne to not participate in the war against Aegon the Conqueror during the first attempt at taking Dorne.” explained Rhaenyra, “Perhaps they would be malleable to serving House Targaryen.” 

“Hmm.” nodded the Dowager Queen, drinking more of her tea. She reached for a lemon cake and took a bite. “When do you think we shall hold the wedding for Jacaerys and Helaena?” 

“I once thought that once this conflict ends,” began Rhaenyra, “but who knows when it will end if a war breaks out.” 

“I thought the same,” agreed Alicent. 

“Then perhaps we begin preparations when Helaena returns.” 

Jacaerys

Prince Jacaerys sat on a small stool beside his little brother, Prince Joffrey, watching him play with toy dragons and toy soldiers carved out of black wood. Joffrey wanted Jacaerys to play with him, and had given his older brother one of his toy dragons. Joffrey sat on the stone floor on his knees, playing quietly with a toy soldier and toy dragon. The two boys were in a large living room that was interconnected to three bedrooms. It was the apartment they all once lived in when they were far younger, when Laenor was still alive, and where they were raised. The toy dragon was carved in a similar appearance to Syrax, his own mother’s dragon. Jacaerys held a toy dragon that was carved in the appearance of Caraxes, long and spindly. 

“Do you think you will find a new dragon, Jace?” asked Joffrey, looking up at his older brother. Jace forced a small smile, 

“I don’t know.” 

“I think so.” Joffrey tilted his head slightly as he looked at his brother, noticing the sadness in Jace’s eyes. “Mummy told me of the other dragons still out there, especially underneath Dragonstone. And there are even wild dragons!” he said with some excitement. Jace chuckled lightly, 

“The dragons under Dragonstone do not want to be disturbed. They are old and tired. They won’t be like yours, like Tyraxes. Quick and swift.” 

“Tyraxes is still so small, just like me.” sighed Joffrey, “I cannot wait until he is big enough to ride him.” The door to the living room from the hall opened, and Rhaenyra walked in. 

“There you boys are,” she said with a smile.  

“Mummy!” exclaimed Joffrey, jumping to his feet and running to hug his mother. Joffrey clung onto Rhaenyra’s waist and she hugged him, leaning down to kiss his head. 

“What are you two doing in here?” Rhaenyra asked, looking around what used to be her home for many years. Many of the tables and shelves in the room were covered in dust. The windows were not very clean, the floor had some specks of dirt. The couches and chairs all seemed untouched and unused. 

“Joffrey wanted to see where we were born.” said Jace, he stood up to greet his mother and kissed her on the cheek. Rhaenyra nodded and looked around. She stood tall in a long red gown with a low collar, holding her hand at her abdomen. 

“This was once home, Joff.” said Rhaenyra with a sigh. She walked across the room to a wide table. There was a metal chest, and Rhaenyra’s eyes lit up upon seeing it. She turned to look at Jacaerys, “Do you remember this?” The chest was silver with black linings, it had a golden handle on its top lid, and on the sides. Jace walked over, 

“I do.” Joffrey followed his older brother to their mother. 

“What is it?” asked the young prince. 

“This was where Luke and my dragon eggs were brought to us for the first time.” said Jace, touching the lid of the chest. It was ice cold. He remembered all those years ago when the chest was hot like fresh lava stones, to keep the dragon eggs incubated. Joffrey stood between his mother and older brother, standing on his tippy-toes to get a better look of the chest. Rhaenyra opened it, setting the lid off on the side of the table. The inside was empty, of course, with some spiderwebs. 

“I miss Luke.” said Joffrey, “Will we see him soon?” He looked up at his mother. 

“He will come for Jace’s wedding.” Rhaenyra rubbed Joffrey’s back. Jace immediately walked away from the table and over to the windows. The balcony doors were shut and the windows were dusty, so he could not see much out of them. Rhaenyra took notice to Jace’s demeanor and turned her head, 

“Jace?” the older prince did not respond. “Jace.” repeated Rhaenyra. 

“Yes?” he held his hands behind his back, and he clenched his teeth together. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked, turning to face her son from across the room. 

“The wedding should wait until after the conflict is resolved.” said Jace coldly and bluntly. 

“Is that what you want?” asked Rhaenyra. 

“Does what I want suddenly matter now?” he snapped. Rhaenyra was dumbfounded as to why her son was acting like so. She looked to the door, 

“Ser Harrold,” within seconds, Ser Harrold stepped into the room. “Could you take Prince Joffrey back to his room?” 

“Yes, your grace.” Rhaenyra kissed Joffrey on his cheek and he went with Ser Harrold, leaving his older brother and mother in the room. 

“What is wrong?” asked Rhaenyra, walking across the room towards Jace, “I only suggest the wedding to take place soon because who knows how long this conflict will last. The Small Council would expect Helaena to be married off to someone else if not you-”

“I don’t care about the Small Council, mother.” sighed Jace. Jace rubbed his face and turned around to face his mother. 

“It is fine, do what you must and what you’ve planned already.” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Rhaenyra had a puzzled look on her face. 

“I thought you were fond of Helaena,” said Rhaenyra softly, “she is a sweet girl-”

“It is not Helaena.” he said, storming past his mother, “Please, let us forget it.” Jacaerys then left the room, leaving the Queen alone in her old apartment. Rhaenyra wanted to know what was bothering her son, he was acting strange, and not like himself. 

Daeron

Oldtown

Prince Daeron Targaryen just returned from a practice flight with his dragon, Tessarion, and was making his way back to the Hightower for lunch. He strided confidently through the town square that lay at the base of the Hightower’s main gates. Green and silver armored Hightower knights lined the wall and metal gate that protected the Hightower. The gate slowly opened as Daeron approached, being followed by two of his personal knights. 

Upon entering through the main gate of the castle complex, Daeron was surprised to see a host of carriages bearing the sigil of House Blackbar - a horizontal black bar on a field of silver. There were even knights holding the banners of House Blackbar as well. As he continued through the entry plaza towards the main stairs to the Hightower, he then saw a carriage and knights with the sigil of House Tarly - a red painted man with a bow and arrow on a field of green. 

“We must proceed with caution, Mercer cannot act a fool, acting so prematurely.” Ser Otto Hightower said with haste. Daeron Targaryen peeked from the corner of a hall within the Hightower, seeing his grandfather meeting with two other men. The three men were in Otto’s private offices, with Otto seated at his wide desk, and the two men seated in front of him. 

“I know my brother,” said the man on the left, middle-aged with short brown hair, “I will remind him.” 

“I would not be surprised if we are informed that the Tyrells hold Mercer accountable, even remove his title and position as Lord of Horn Hill.” scolded Otto, “Now, our troops are on the march at sunrise, we will continue as planned.” 

“You’ve spoken of a long game for years now, Otto,” said the other man at the table. He was also middle-aged, but his hair was graying and long, “if Rhaenyra wins this fight against Dorne, her legitimacy will only be secured permanently and fortified.” Daeron turned around and leaned against the wall, not wanting to be seen by his grandfather. The discussion seemed treacherous, what kind of long game was his grandfather playing? Did they want Dorne to successfully rebel against the Queen? He had many questions. Daeron decided to leave the area and continued down the hall, away from his grandfather’s offices. 

As Daeron rushed he turned a corner and ran into a taller man. Daeron stumbled back upon clanging into the armored man. 

“Oh, my prince,” 

“Uncle!” exclaimed Daeron with a grin, seeing that it was his uncle Ser Gwayne Hightower. He hugged the armored knight and Gwayne chuckled, 

“Good to see you, sweet nephew.” he rustled Daeron’s long silver hair, “What are you doing up on this level?” The level that Daeron was currently on were mostly offices for dignitaries and noblemen that served House Hightower, and even included private offices for Otto. 

“I was just… just exploring. Still so many parts of the castle I’ve yet to see after all these years.” he laughed nervously. “What are you doing back so soon?” 

“I was told I would be deployed to Dorne, so I came as soon as I could.” explained Gwayne, “Come, let us get some food, shall we? We can catch up.” Daeron smiled and walked alongside his uncle down the hall. 

…

“I received a letter from my mother, the situation in Dorne is getting worse it seems.” said Daeron. The sixteen year old Targaryen prince shoveled a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, feeling starved after flying for nearly two hours on Tessarion. He sat across from his uncle at the end of a long dining table, just near a lit fireplace. Gwayne had taken off most of his armor and wore a simple tan shirt and black trousers. His golden red hair reached right past his ears, and was neatly combed and kept. 

“Yes, I suspect a battle will erupt - as soon as we enter Prince’s Pass.” said Gwayne, stirring the hot porridge in his bowl, “I pray that the Dornish will make the smart choice and bend the knee.” 

“After what they did to Jacaerys’ dragon,” said Daeron with agitation, “they should be executed. All of them. My brother should have burned down the entire city while he was at it.” 

“It’s more complicated than you think, Daeron.” 

“I don’t think so, uncle.” said Daeron, shaking his head. To him, it was clear. House Martell wronged the Crown, and they needed to pay the ultimate price. “I think the Queen is being too restrained. She’s holding back.” 

“Good leaders are patient.” noted Gwayne. Daeron shrugged, he did not disagree with that point. 

“Have you ever met her? The Queen?” 

“Only twice. The first time was many, many, years ago at a tourney in King’s Landing celebrating the birth of her brother, Baelon.” recounted Gwayne. That tourney was almost twenty years ago, he couldn’t believe how fast time had flown. “The second time was shortly after during her tour of finding a husband.” 

“Oh wow uncle,” teased Daeron, “you wanted the Queen’s hand?” his eyes widened. Gwayne laughed and shook his head, 

“Well, she was Princess back then. None of us thought she’d actually become the Queen. But yes, I did at one point.” 

“You’d be living a far more posh life than here, I can say that for sure.” said Daeron amusingly, “You’d be a prince at the very least.” 

“I’d rather be at the frontlines anyway, and unlike your brothers, I do not have a dragon.” said Gwayne, reaching for the nearby cup of wine to take a drink. 

“I want to join you at Nightsong.” blurted Daeron. Gwayne quickly gulped his wine, and cleared his throat. 

“What? No.” 

“Your convoy is vulnerable, the dragons will be at Sunspear, and you are unprotected.” Daeron leaned forward eagerly, “It only makes sense.” 

“I will not be putting you in harm’s way, Daeron.” said Gwayne firmly, “And your dragon is still small.” 

“Tessarion is small but quick and versatile.” shot back Daeron, “Think about it, I can offer reconnaissance as you enter the Prince’s Pass. The Dornish could be hiding in the cliffs along the path, you’d be fish in a barrel.” 

“We have our shields, we will make do.” stated Gwayne confidently, and Daeron sighed disappointedly. 

“Fine, uncle.” he surrendered, “I do hope you do not encounter any threats then.” 

Storm’s End

“I did not think Storm’s End would become a resting station for the Targaryen dragon army, Princess.” said Lord Borros Baratheon in a sarcastic tone to Princess Rhaenys. It was nearly the middle of the night, and the team of Targaryen dragon riders for Dorne decided to rest at Storm’s End until the morning. They would need their sleep in order to confront the Martells at Sunspear. Princess Rhaenys stood in her iron-gray and red Targaryen armor in front of Borros Baratheon as he sat on his large wooden throne. Behind Rhaenys were Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Baela. Each of them were wearing light suits of armor, their chest plates adorned with dragon scales, shoulder plates with the Targaryen sigil. Baela and Helaena had metallic skirt armor pieces over their trousers. Borros Baratheon was slightly nervous, he gripped the armrests of his wooden throne tightly. It was as if a team of conquerors stood before him. He couldn’t deny them refuge for the night even if he wanted to try. The sound of dragon roaring was loud from the outside, easily seeping through the halls of the stone fortress. 

“You are kind and most hospitable, my lord.” said Rhaenys with a gentle smile, “The Crown will not forget your kindness.” 

“My Maester will show you to your rooms.” Borros waved his hand to his Maester that stood beside him on the dais. The elderly male Maester bowed his head and walked down the dais, gesturing to the younger Targaryens to follow him. Rhaenys watched the four young men and women head off into a nearby corridor. 

“Princess,” continued Borros, “are we going to war? Whispers circulating suggest so.” 

“My hope is that we do not resort to any form of violence.” said Rhaenys, “However, House Martell is stubborn and proven difficult to reason with.” 

“Hmm,” grumbled Borros, scratching his thick beard, “I will be honest with you, I am not fond of House Martell. Their House has waged war against my forefathers centuries before your family’s arrival. We refuse to forget the atrocities they’ve committed in the borderlands.” 

“My lord, we seek to hold House Martell accountable for all their inhumane and criminal actions.” the elder Princess held her head high, and Borros Baratheon seemed to agree with her as he nodded. “The goal is for their surrender, but eradicating House Martell is unfortunately a possible route of action.” 

“I admire your ruthlessness, Princess.” said Borros.

“I only carry the orders of her grace, the Queen.” smiled Rhaenys. Borros leaned forward from his throne, 

“Then I would like to pledge assistance. I am aware that the Reach is deploying troops to Nightsong. I can send two thousand men.” 

“That is most generous, my lord,” Rhaenys was stunned, “however, we ourselves are headed directly to Sunspear.” 

“Aye, I have a fleet of twenty ships that can carry another three thousand men to Sunspear,” said Borros. There was almost a hint of excitement in his voice, as if he were enjoying the prospect of waging war against Dorne. 

“Your assistance would do the Crown a great service.” 

…

“Last time we were here,” said Aegon, “we were each given our own room. Now this…” Aegon stood still in the middle of a small bedroom that had three beds, followed by his brother and sister. Baela was given the room next door, which she would share with her grandmother. 

“He is sick of seeing us.” muttered Aemond, beginning to take off his gauntlets. Helaena started to take off her chestplate as well. Aegon rubbed the back of his head tiredly and walked over to the bed near the wall on the left side of the room. Aemond went to the bed on the far right, and Helaena in the middle. 

“It’s just like when we were babes.” smiled Helaena, looking between her two brothers. She reminisced of the days of their childhood when they all shared a bedroom in the Red Keep. Except, their childhood bedroom was double the size of the one they were currently in and had larger beds. “But now we’re on an adventure.” she added. 

“I am surprised you came with us.” noted Aegon, laying in his bed and putting his hands behind his head as he leaned back.  

“It’s her duty, as a Targaryen.” snarked Aemond taking off his shoes to get into bed. 

“This was going to happen, regardless,” said Helaena gently, “I’ve seen it.” Helaena sat on her bed with her legs crossed. She began to unbraid her hair from the back of her head. 

“What else have you seen?” asked Aegon curiously. Helaena shrugged her shoulders, running her fingers through an untied braid to loosen the silver hair, 

“Things will change.” she said. 

“What will change?” asked Aemond. Helaena looked at Aemond with wide eyes, a glistening stare. She stared at him silently for a few seconds and then faced forward again, continuing to unbraid her hair. 

“Two steeds, weaving spools of black and green,” she muttered, “bound by a helm of gold.” Aegon was confused, and shook his head. He stared up at the ceiling, his sister had lost him. She went back to her quirky self it seemed. 

“And there’s the peculiarity.” mumbled Aegon. Aemond laid on his side in bed, facing the wall, away from his siblings. Two steeds… he wondered what that meant. He started to think of Jacaerys, and if Helaena actually did see them kiss. Aemond closed his eye and tried to sleep. Inhaling deeply, he tried to relax and clear his mind. 

We can’t. He heard Jacaerys’ voice. 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

The throne room of the Red Keep was rather full with noblemen and women, as the Queen was holding court. It was a day when nobles could make petitions to the government for any kind of assistance, any concerns or discontent with the state of the Realm. Oftentimes, it was a way for Rhaenyra to truly understand the state of the men and women that lived in her kingdoms. 

The Queen sat tall on the Iron Throne in a long black glistening gown, her silver blond hair braided into an elaborate bun, and the golden Targaryen crown resting on her head. At the base of the dais stood Dowager Queen Alicent and Prince Jacaerys on the left side, and Ser Harrold and other members of the Kingsguard on the right side. 

“We respectfully request a waiver of next month’s taxes in the Reach, your grace,” an older man stood in the middle of the throne room’s central aisle as he addressed the Queen, with the other attendees standing far behind him. “As many resources have been strained to be dedicated to the army marching south.” 

“Lord Ashford, I hear your concern,” spoke Rhaenyra steadily, “would you happen to know how many of your own men make up the overall army of the Reach?” Lord Robert Ashford of the city of Ashford was a heavyset man with a round face and thick beard, he was short, and wore the colors of his house on his coat, white and orange. 

“Perhaps just six thousand, your grace.” said Lord Ashford. 

“And do you bring forward this request on behalf of the entire Reach? Or just the city of Ashford?” she asked. 

“Ideally the entire province, your grace.”

“If I were to waive a month’s worth of taxes for the Reach, that would set back the Crown roughly five hundred thousand gold-dragons. Do you know what that pays for?” Rhaenyra held her head high as she questioned the meager lord. 

“I do, yes, your grace.” 

“I cannot understate the contribution that the people of the Reach give to the Seven Kingdoms, that much is true,” continued Rhaenyra, “but it would be unfair to the remainder of the Realm. I seek to bring a swift end to this conflict and return all of your troops home.” 

“I understand, your grace.” Lord Robert Ashford bowed his head in defeat. He turned and began walking down the aisle. Before the next petitioner could be heard, Grand Maester Orwyle made his way from the side of the hall up to the Queen, 

“Your grace, apologies for my interruption.”

“It is fine, Orwyle,” said Rhaenyra kindly, “What is it?” 

“Lord Cregan Stark is here…” just as Orwyle finished his sentence, the main doors to the throne room opened, and in walked the Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, Cregan Stark. Orwyle quickly walked back down the dais, and Rhaenyra watched with intent as the Stark approached her. Cregan Stark was joined by two older Northmen, each of them wore long fur coats over their suits of leather armor. 

“Lord Stark,” greeted Rhaenyra. 

“My Queen,” Cregan knelt briefly as he approached the Queen, and then stood tall, “I’ve come to bring you word and support in your conquest of Dorne.” 

“That is a surprise, my lord,” stammered Rhaenyra, “as I had not expected to need assistance from the North just yet.” 

“If it pleases you, your grace,” said Cregan, “there are two thousand Northmen currently marching south that I would be honored to join your army.” 

“What is the state of their whereabouts?” she asked. 

“They just crossed the Trident at the Twins.” answered Cregan clearly, “I came by ship from White Harbor.” 

“That is very generous and appreciative, Lord Stark.” said the Queen, “Although, I pray that House Martell will surrender without the use of war. You are welcome to stay here in the Red Keep and rest.” Cregan Stark bowed his head, 

“I am grateful, your grace.” 

Jacaerys

Later that day after court, the Queen asked Prince Jacaerys to show Lord Cregan around the Red Keep and to help him feel at home. Cregan had been at the Red Keep just one time before, not too long ago, when King Viserys died, and he pledged his fealty to Queen Rhaenyra. Jacaerys showed the Lord of Winterfell another favorite part of the castle grounds, the gardens. 

A brisk wind came in from the nearby bay into the gardens, tugging at the young men’s long hair as they strolled through the flourishing gardens. Most of the flowers were already blooming. Fruit trees of apples, peaches, and pears were ready for harvesting. 

“It’s rare to find such a supple tree in the North.” smiled Cregan, approaching a peach tree along the gravel path. He looked up at the tree’s sturdy branches, where full size reddish yellow peaches hung, ready to be picked. 

“Do you have peaches there?” asked Jace, and Cregan shook his head no. Jace walked up to the tree and reached up to the lowest branch. He picked a peach and handed it to Cregan, “Give it a try, my lord.” Cregan seemed excited like a little boy receiving a gift, and he gladly took the peace. Cregan took a bite, and the fruit gushed with juice around his lips. He was startled, not expecting to be making a mess. Jacaerys chuckled, reaching for a handkerchief in his coat pocket, and handed it to Cregan. 

“That is the sweetest fruit I’ve ever bitten into,” exclaimed Cregan. 

“I am sure the North has its fair share of sweets,” said Jace.

“I’m not sure exactly what great product we can offer, other than salted meats and jerky,” scoffed the Stark. The two young men continued down the path and Cregan continued eating the peach. 

“It is very generous of you to lend your support, for my mother.” noted Jacaerys, in a more serious tone. Cregan nodded his head, 

“I heard what happened to your dragon, my prince. It is treacherous. Unspeakable.” he said, “After all, a united kingdom is a formidable kingdom.” 

“Do you like the South?” asked the prince. 

“That is difficult to answer,” 

“Oh, why is that?” smiled Jacaerys. 

“If I tell you, and my Northmen find out, they’d have me stay here and never return to Winterfell.” chuckled Cregan. Jacaerys laughed, and Cregan looked into his eyes. 

“I wouldn’t mind more of your company.” admitted Jace warmly. 

“But in truth, I do often prefer cooler days.” shrugged Cregan, “And my little boy - that’s his home. There’s no snow here for him to play in.” 

“How old is he?” asked the prince curiously. 

“He just turned three,” Cregan said as he nodded his head, thinking of his baby boy back home, nearly nine hundred miles away, “and he’s as stubborn as most Starks. His mother was the same.” 

“Oh, was ?” 

“She did not survive childbirth.” explained Cregan. The two slowed to a stop at a bend in the path. They came upon a view of a descending hill and the outer castle walls. Blackwater Bay was visible on the horizon. 

“I’m so sorry,” said Jace quietly. Cregan held his eyes low, and he finished the peach. 

“It is fine, I have made my peace.” he looked up to meet Jace’s eyes looking at his, “There are other wonders in the world to witness and take.” Jace felt the intensity of Cregan’s stare, it wasn’t unnatural or uncomfortable, but it was deep and comforting. “Have you ever been in the North?” asked Lord Stark. 

“No, never.” said Jace, shaking his head slowly as he was lost in Cregan’s eyes, “Not even anywhere remotely close to the Neck.” 

“You should change that, my prince.” said Cregan, “You are welcome to stay at Winterfell… for however long you please.” Jace began to smile and laughed lightheartedly, 

“I would love to visit Winterfell… but,” he sighed, “duty calls for my being here.” the two young men continued walking along the path, there was a stone bench nearby that Jace approached. The bench was surrounded by shrubs of red and pink roses. The aroma of roses was strong in the air. Jace sat down, and Cregan sat beside him, just inches apart from his own knee touching Jace’s knee. 

“And,” continued Jace, “I have no dragon to take me there.” he said solemnly. 

“You don’t need a dragon,” Cregan pressed his shoulder playfully into Jace’s shoulder, “just a horse. You could come back with me. See the rest of the country you one day will rule.” Jacaerys smiled and held his head low, seeing Cregan looking into his eyes again. 

“I can’t.” he whispered, folding his hands together tightly, “Once this war is over, I am to move back to Dragonstone…” 

“With a betrothed?” asked Cregan. Jacaerys’ smile faded away within seconds, and he nodded his head. 

“And so it goes the way of the world…” sighed Cregan. He looked up, the path ahead of them was winding and curving, far more peach trees lining the path, along with pointed conifer trees, tulips, daisies, and more roses. “Forced into decisions we have no say over, decisions that affect only our own lives.” 

“And you?” Jace craned his neck to look at Cregan, “Forced into a marriage?” 

“Aye, well, the choice was given to me as an illusion.” scoffed Cregan, “Marry and have a son, secure my future, secure my people’s future.” 

“And now?” asked Jace, “You’ve got your son. Your people adore you. You have armies backing you.” 

“So, that means I should get whatever I want, right?” he chuckled lightly. 

“I think so.” said Jace in a serious tone. Cregan scoffed with a smile and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back his long brown locks out of his face. His knee brushed against Jace’s knee, and he kept it there. Jace inched his foot towards Cregan’s boot, touching the side of his leather boot. 

“You shouldn’t be kept away in a castle by the sea.” said Cregan quietly, looking at Jace. Jacaerys looked back at Cregan and they met each other’s gaze once again. 

“Oh, and where should I be kept?” the prince asked in a sensual voice. 

“No, not kept. Free to go wherever you please.” Cregan smirked and leaned closer to Jace, “See whoever you please… be with whoever you please.” Cregan put his gloved hand on Jace’s knee, squeezing it gently. Jace looked down at Cregan’s hand. His heart started to race and skipped a beat. 

“And what pleases you?” whispered Jacaerys nervously. 

“Very few things,” Cregan moved his hand up Jace’s thigh, squeezing tighter, “cold Northern air… sweet southern meat, tender touches, dark eyes…” Jace lowered his head towards Cregan’s, his curly long brown hair concealing much of his eyes. 

“I actually have something for you,” said Cregan. He reached to brush aside Jace’s hair, “it was specially made.”

“Oh for me?” 

“Yes, come with me.” 

…

Prince Jacaerys went with Lord Cregan back to his guest apartment in the Red Keep, guiding him through the halls and corridors, since to Cregan, the castle was an endless maze. Most of the Kingsguard, servants, and castle workers were down in or near the throne room as the Queen was still holding court. 

Jacaerys opened the door to Cregan’s guest chambers and let Cregan walk in first. Cregan walked through the small living area where two couches faced one another, and over on the nearby dining table was a small trunk. Cregan took off his fur coat, hanging it on the back of a chair, and unlatched the small trunk. Jace leaned against the back of one of the couches, watching Cregan. He looked at Cregan’s figure and bare arms that were uncovered. Cregan was thin, but his leather armor was robust, and it was hard to tell exactly how big he was. Jace stared at Cregan’s muscular arms, his biceps and triceps were well-formed and muscular. His arms appeared as if they were bursting out the leather armor that covered his shoulders. 

Cregan turned around, holding a small case. He eyed it and smiled at Jace, 

“Come.” he said. Jace walked up to Cregan and opened the case. Inside was a large dagger, its blade was a glossy black material, unlike anything Jace had ever seen before. The handle was a white ivory, with the carving of a wolf and dragon’s head at the end of the hilt. 

“My gods…” mumbled Jace in amazement. He ran his finger against the dark blade, it was cold as ice. “What is this made of?” 

“Dragonglass.” said Cregan, his eyes darting between the dagger and Jace’s eyes. Jacaerys slowly picked up the dagger and held it in the light. The black dagger was a bit rigid, it wasn’t as smooth as a steel dagger, but it seemed sharper and far more polished. 

“I’ve never heard of such a metal.” said Jace, entirely enamored in the weapon. 

“It’s rare, found in only a few locations across the continent. One of those locations is in the North.” explained Cregan, “Do you like it?”

“Absolutely,” grinned Jacaerys, “Thank you.” 

“I figured you should have all the proper weapons to defend yourself.” noted Cregan, putting the small case back on the table inside the trunk. He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms, enjoying Jace reveling in the design of the dragonglass dagger. 

“Who made this?” asked the prince. 

“My father,” continued Cregan, “he meant to give it to King Jaehaerys, when he visited the Wall… long, long ago. But, the King left before the dagger was finished.” 

“And he never wanted to give it to the King afterward?” 

“Well, he never left the North, and King Jaehaerys never returned to Winterfell. As the years went on, he decided to pass it down to me.” explained the young lord. Jacaerys was beginning to realize the significance of the weapon, it was an heirloom… a Stark heirloom. 

“I shouldn’t take this…” said Jace worriedly. 

“It is meant for a Targaryen,” eyed Cregan, “trust me, my prince.” Jacaerys stood still with wide eyes, looking back down at the dagger. He eyed the hilt, the dragon was intertwining around the wolf in a tight embrace. 

“Thank you, my lord.” said the prince softly. Jacaerys held out his hand, and Cregan grabbed his forearm to shake it. The two stood close with one another, Jace feeling Cregan’s strong arm and veins in his forearm. Cregan’s thumb caressed Jace’s light arm hair, and Jace slowly lowered his hand. The two remained locked in eye contact. Jace admired Cregan’s stature, his shoulders were broad, he could only imagine how strong and toned his chest was. Jace then tried to shake his mind off of it, he needed to uncloud his mind. He turned and walked towards the door, 

“I hope this room is comfortable for your stay, my lord.” said Jace, he stopped underneath an archway, where down a small hall in the apartment was a bedroom. He looked at the bedroom, beginning to get lost in his own thoughts. Cregan walked up behind Jace, standing behind him, and wrapped one hand around his waist and lower abdomen. Cregan held his nose and lips at Jace’s ear, inhaling deeply. Jacaerys froze for a moment. 

Jace turned around, whilst being in Cregan’s arms. He faced Cregan, looking up into his blue eyes. Cregan held one hand on Jace’s lower back, rubbing it slowly. Jace held one hand over Cregan’s arm, hesitating from touching his bicep. 

“In the North,” whispered Cregan, “we are free.” Jace looked down at Cregan’s lips as he spoke, then back up at his eyes. 

“I can’t leave,” muttered Jace, “I’m going to be King one day.” Jace placed his hand on Cregan’s bicep, feeling a tingling sensation run down the core of his body. Cregan inhaled deeply, and let go of Jace. 

“You are right, my prince.” Cregan took a step back, “Please, forgive me.” 

“It is not necessary,” said Jace, shaking his head. He looked away from Cregan, “I will let you rest, you had a long journey.” Jace headed for the door without saying another word to Cregan, and the young lord Stark watched as the prince left. 

…

Jacaerys retreated back to his bedroom, immediately slamming the door shut and shoving his face into the palms of his hands. He clenched his teeth in anger and gritted them, frustrated as to the feelings his body was subjecting him to. He threw off his coat onto the nearby table, kicked off his boots, and collapsed onto his bed, laying on his stomach. 

He squeezed his arms around the pillow and shut his eyes. He immediately started picturing Aemond in his mind. He wondered at what point of their journey they were, if they’d reached Storm’s End by now, or if they had already passed it and were nearing Dorne. Jace could remember crystal clear the feeling of sleeping beside Aemond the other night. It was the first time he slept with anyone overnight, it was comforting… but by morning, Aemond had already disappeared. He wanted to feel Aemond’s touch again, on his face, his neck, his chest, his ass, his cock. Jace felt the blood beginning to swell in his cock, making him hard. He started to grind against the bed, his cock rubbing against his trousers. Jace reached below to unbuckle his pants and shimmy them off, pulling off his underwear as well. He threw off his undershirt and laid back down on the bed, his cock pressing hard between his skin and the blanket. 

Jace slowly grinded back and forth, sliding his six and a half inch cock up and down. He imagined Aemond laying on top of him, humping him with his larger, thicker, cock. His heart started to race and his breathing intensified as he humped his bed harder. Jace squeezed his pillow underneath his chest, 

“Fuck…” he moaned, “fuck me, Aemond.” Jace’s legs spread as he continued humping the bed, the wooden frame creaking. “Aemond,” he panted. He desired Aemond’s cock sliding between his ass cheeks, throbbing harder against his body. He wanted to see Aemond cum again and again. Jace flipped over to lay on his back and he immediately started jerking his pulsating cock. He grinded his hips and curled his toes as he stroked himself hard and fast. He ran his hand across his chest and left nipple, flicking and twisting it, imagining as if Aemond were fondling it. Jace arched his back upward, he was feeling close to climaxing. 

“Oh Aemond,” he grunted, “fuck me, please. Aemond,” Jace groaned. He lifted his head and watched his cock explode bursts of cum, shooting across his chest, with some specks reaching his cheek and chin. Jacaerys panted loudly, his body twitching as he squeezed his cock, letting out one last burst of cum. He rested his head back and stared at the ceiling, catching his breath. He wished Aemond was on top of him, with him. 

Chapter Text

Jacaerys 

The Red Keep

Prince Jacaerys watched from the top of the stone stairs to the courtyard of the Red Keep as Lord Cregan Stark prepared for his departure with his fellow Northmen. Jacaerys did not say goodbye to the young wolf, as he did not know if he should even interact with him any longer. They had a strange, lustful, encounter just yesterday, and it racked his mind. He watched as Cregan got on his horse along with his men on their steeds, and started trotting to the castle gate. 

He pursed his lips as he pondered. He did not exactly enjoy seeing Cregan leave. The man had a solemn yet cooled temperament, he seemed to be a good listener to Jacaerys. But, his mind still was tied to Aemond. Jacaerys turned and headed up another flight of steps towards the castle. 

As Jacaerys walked alongside an open colonnade, back towards Maegor’s Holdfast, he heard the roar of an unfamiliar dragon. It wasn’t one he recognized at all, it was low, deep, and old. He darted to the edge of the colonnade and peered over to look in the sky. Looking upward, he didn’t see anything. Jacaerys rushed down the open corridor, turning the corner. He had a slight view of the docks and the bay. He saw nothing. The roar echoed again. Jace jogged lightly further up the hall, going up another set of stairs. 

He was now fully inside the castle, but came upon a line of tall arched windows. Jace held onto the metal grate that enclosed the window and looked outside. It faced south, he could see the shoreline and the city’s outer wall that hugged it. Off in the distance on the horizon, a bronze silhouette of a dragon. He smiled and ran back down to the courtyard to fetch a horse. 

Rhaenyra

The Queen was enjoying breakfast with her youngest son, Prince Joffrey, and the Dowager Queen Alicent that morning in a small, more private, dining chamber closer to Rhaenyra’s bedchambers. The Queen and Dowager Queen laughed lightly together as they discussed moments from their teenage days, but they were soon interrupted by Ser Harrold. 

“Your graces, my apologies,” said Ser Harrold, as he entered the dining room. 

“It is alright, Ser Harrold,” said Rhaenyra warmly, “what is the matter?” 

“It is Prince Jacaerys. We saw him take off on a horse through the city.” 

“To where?” scoffed Rhaenyra, she wiped the corners of her lips with a napkin cloth. 

“Well, we spotted a massive bronze dragon flying over the Kingswood, nearly the size of Vhagar,” explained the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, “and he was last seen going south, in that direction.” 

“Bronze dragon?” muttered Alicent. 

“Vermithor…” Rhaenyra’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach, and her anxiety began to flare within the core of her body, “Seven hells.” Rhaenyra jumped to her feet and headed to the door. 

“Rhaenyra, where are you going?” blurted Alicent, confused, and she stood up abruptly. Joffrey looked at his mother too with wide eyes, unsure of what was happening. 

“I’m going to get Syrax, and then I am going after Jace.” said Rhaenyra to Alicent, “Ser Harrold, I need you to get me to the Dragonpit as fast as possible.” 

“Aye, your grace. We’ve got a lighter carriage-”

“No, I’m going on horseback.” she walked right past Ser Harrold, heading down the hall. 

“Ser Harrold, please be watchful of her,” said Alicent with concern to the knight, and he nodded. 

Dorne

A fleet of five dragons made their approach to the city of Sunspear, capital of Dorne. Leading the pack was Princess Rhaenys on Meleys, the Red Queen. Close behind Meleys were Moondancer and Dreamfyre, with Lady Baela and Princess Helaena, respectively. Baela and Moondancer were on Rhaenys’ left side, and she turned her head to look at her granddaughter. With her left hand, Rhaenys signaled to Baela, extending her arm and gesturing a circle in the air. Baela nodded and immediately commanded Moondancer to make a sudden dive through the clouds. Rhaenys looked at Helaena and gave her the same signal, and within moments, Dreamfyre bellowed and dove down through the clouds. 

Approaching Rhaenys and Meleys from behind were Vhagar and Sunfyre, ridden by Princes Aemond and Aegon. Rhaenys turned to see Aegon and signaled to him, gesturing for him to join her. Aegon nods, and Meleys begins to dive, Sunfyre joins her. Aemond remains high above the clouds with Vhagar as planned… 

Rhaenys and Aegon flew side by side on their dragons as they flew towards the Water Gardens, the royal palace and home for Prince Qoren Martell. The palace complex was still damaged as Aegon had last left it, and Rhaenys was concerned. The castle’s outer walls were in pieces, with large holes blown through the walls, entire wings of the building in mounds of rubble and broken stones. Black scorch marks streaked across the grounds, and trees burned with just their brittle branches remaining. The once reflective pools and streams that formed mazes throughout the Water Gardens, giving it its name, were dried up and filled with burnt bodies, rubble, and fallen scorched trees. The Water Gardens sat on a pointed peninsula that jut out into the sea, and arriving on shore were row boats carrying Velaryon armored knights. Off in the distance, Rhaenys could see dozens of Velaryon-Targaryen sigil warships at sea. Rhaenys and Aegon descended to the northern side of the Water Gardens, landing just outside one of Sunspear's many city gates, where a squad of knights were rendezvousing. 

“The Martell banners still fly high.” Princess Rhaenys remarked as she walked over from Meleys to the ever growing garrison of knights on the sandy hill outside the Water Gardens wall and city gate. With the group of soldiers was her lord husband, Corlys Velaryon. Meleys sat a dozen meters or so away from the knights, keeping her distance, and chittering loudly, keeping her eye on Rhaenys.  Lord Corlys Velaryon turned to greet his wife, wearing heavy silver and cream colored steel armor, donning the sigil of his house on his chest plate. 

“We have sent multiple ravens to the palace and the city gatehouse,” said Corlys. 

“And? Any response?” 

“No.” sighed Corlys worriedly, glancing over his shoulder at the smoldering city and palace. There were Martell soldiers posted on the in-tact portions of the wall, patrolling and watching the looming Targaryen army. 

“Helaena and Baela are circling the city perimeter.” stated Rhaenys, “Aemond is high above the clouds,” the sound of marching boots only intensified as more and more knights made their way up the rocky hill from the shore. Aegon joined the elder Targaryen Princess and the Sea Snake, looking between them, 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked bluntly. 

“My prince,” Corlys bowed his head, “it doesn’t seem the Martells want to speak with us.” 

“Then let us root them out of their shithole.” insisted Aegon. He looked at Rhaenys, “We need to act.” 

“We will be ready to march into the city shortly,” said Corlys. 

“Excellent, Lord Corlys.” applauded Aegon. Meleys and Sunfyre let out simultaneous roars to their riders, and both Rhaenys and Aegon turned to look at their dragons. Meleys slowly walked over to Rhaenys, grumbling in a deep low tone. Rhaenys recognized Meleys’ demeanor, she wanted to take flight, and immediately. 

“Corlys,” Rhaenys looked at her husband with a worried look. Corlys was given a shield by a younger knight and then looked at his wife, 

“Get on Meleys and get in the sky. I know.” Within moments, the enemy along the city walls began firing arrows at the Velaryon knights. The knights quickly marched into formation, with the shielded knights moving to the front and creating a barrier to protect against the incoming arrows. Aegon ran to Sunfyre and quickly got atop her, and the two dragons heaved off the ground to climb into the sky. 

As Rhaenys and Aegon ascended into the sky, they looked down to the nearby city gate. Rhaenys’ jaw dropped as she looked down at the city gate. Mounted above the city gate on a pike was the decaying, severed, head of Vermax, Jacaerys’ young green dragon. Aegon took notice of this as well, and felt a rage overcome within himself. Instead of continuing to ascend, he ordered Sunfyre to descend once again towards the city. 

“Aegon!” shouted Rhaenys, watching Aegon descend. As Rhaenys leaned over Meleys’ massive left shoulder, watching Aegon dive through the clouds, she spotted a group of Dornish men on a rooftop of a building. Within a split second she saw the shining glisten of a steel bolt. Rhaenys ducked to her right, and Meleys banked to her right, avoiding being shot by the scorpion bolt. Rhaenys laid down forward on the saddle, catching her breath from nearly having her entire head taken off. Rhaenys could hear Sunfyre’s roars down below and she sat up to look once again. 

Aegon gripped the handles of Sunfyre’s saddle intensely as he continued to dive down towards the city wall. He could see the small silhouette of Vermax’s severed head on the pike above the city’s northern gate. 

“Dracarys!” commanded the Prince Consort. As Sunfyre leveled out, flying parallel to the city wall, he unleashed a stream of dragonfire across the top of the wall, scorching the Dornish soldiers and blasting the stone to bits. Sunfyre burned meters upon meters of the city wall, blasting the city gate wide open, Dornish men attempted to jump off the wall, but to no avail as they were immediately caught in the flame and incinerated. Sunfyre began to climb upward back up into the sky, and Aegon looked over his shoulder. He noticed Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Moondancer circling high above the city from a safe distance. He had no idea where Aemond and Vhagar were. 

“I’ll fucking burn the city alone if I have to,” muttered Aegon to himself. He patted Sunfyre’s back, “Good, Sunfyre, good.” A deep roar echoed from the west, and Aegon turned his head to the right. Emerging from the clouds was Vhagar, descending slowly towards the city. Vhagar leveled out above the city, and within moments, blasted dragon fire onto the city itself. The tiled roofs of the houses and buildings exploded and crumbled in seconds as Vhagar laid waste in her wake. The behemoth of a dragon continued and continued blasting fire, destroying entire city-blocks, kilometer by kilometer. Vhagar then began to ascend once again. Aegon had never seen Vhagar in action, and was astounded by the level of destruction she left compared to his smaller dragon. Aegon began to chuckle in disbelief. 

Rhaenys watched as her two great-nephews let their dragons loose on the city. Aegon and Sunfyre began to carve into the city, starting at the outskirts near the city walls, moving inward. She lost control over them both. Black columns of smoke began to plume into the sky, and Meleys flew swiftly to avert the smoke. The Princess was pensive as she thought of all possible options, there was no way she could stop Aegon and Aemond now; the Dornish just tried to kill her; the Dornish were flaunting the murder of Vermax, mocking their House… they would not be backing down. She could hear the echoes of screams from the city streets, it made her stomach lurch. 

“Elenas geptot, Meleys,” commanded Rhaenys, ordering her dragon to bank downward towards the left. Meleys dipped downward, and they approached an untouched portion of Sunspear’s city wall on its eastern front. On the eastern front faced the sea, and the awaiting Targaryen-Velaryon army. Rhaenys guided Meleys to fly parallel to the city wall, 

“Dracarys!” she ordered. As Meleys glided above the city wall, she joined her other dragons in blasting flame. Meleys destroyed nearly half a kilometer of the city wall, and the eastern city gate. Rhaenys looked over her shoulder, she opened a path for the troops to enter the city through the destroyed gate. 

The city of Sunspear had descended into an apocalyptic firestorm. Three dragons continued to tear through the city from the skies. As Rhaenys focused on just destroying the city’s defenses, Aegon and Aemond continued to burn through the city, leveling houses and buildings and churches alike, burning indiscriminately. However, after Rhaenys destroyed all four of the city’s gates, she began to retreat northward. Baela and Helaena on their dragons quickly took notice, and followed the elder princess north to their rendezvous point. 

Aegon was then next to notice the three dragons heading north, towards the low mountains. He soon commanded Sunfyre to ascend back into the clouds, and started flying north. As Aegon looked over his shoulder, seeing Aemond continue to burn the city with Vhagar, he saw the Water Gardens begin to collapse from structural damage. The crown-like roofed towers of the Dornish castle crumbled upon itself, and the ornate architecture was soon completely reduced to piles of stone in a cloud of smoke and dust. He couldn’t see entire neighborhoods due to the thick smoke and massive flames reaching into the sky above the houses. The sight of such destruction that he aided in creating with his own dragon… it made him shudder in awe. 

Jacaerys

The Kingswood

Just south of the city walls of King’s Landing sat the Kingswood, a large forest that sprawled for dozens of square kilometers along the coastline. The forest was not dense but rather sparse and easy to traverse, mostly made of towering pines and conifer trees, the ground was littered in pine needles. Jacaerys continued up a hill, riding a brown horse through the forest, going south, following the direction he last saw the dragon Vermithor go in. His horse began to whinny nervously, and did not want to continue up the hill. Jace scratched the horse’s neck, 

“Shh, what’s wrong?” he asked the horse. He then realized he must be close to Vermithor. Jace got off the horse and tried pulling him up the hill with his reins, but the horse wouldn’t budge. “Fine, stay here then.” said Jace annoyedly. Jace walked up the hill, reaching the top within a few steps. 

As Jace reached the top of the hill, he could see an open green pasture up ahead, and he stood in shock upon seeing the enormous bronze dragon sleeping in the pasture. Vermithor, known as the Bronze Fury, was nearly a hundred years old and was the mount of King Jaehaerys. He had no rider since the death of Jaehaerys, and often secluded himself inside the Dragonmont on Dragonstone. 

Jace walked slowly down the hill, approaching the pasture. He was amazed at Vermithor’s size, his wings were folded relatively close to his body, and he rested his horned chin flat on the soft, tall, grasses. As Jace got closer he could see a black burned area of grass and a series of bones. Vermithor must have just finished a meal and treated himself to a slumber to regain his energy. Old dragons typically adored spending their time sleeping. 

The heavy and loud sound of Vermithor’s snoring got louder as Jace walked into the pasture, his heart racing. He could feel the vibrations of Vermithor’s grumbling and deep breathing, vibrating through the ground. Jace could easily make out the skulls of numerous cows in the burnt area of the grass, the bones were blackened from the dragonflame as well. It was strange that the dragon didn’t swallow them whole, but, Jace knew it was possible for some dragons to have picky eating styles. 

Vermithor, still asleep, swung his head to the side, towards Jace, and the prince froze in his steps. He waited and stared at Vermithor’s eye, anticipating the beast to wake up. Vermithor only let out a deep exhale, and Jace continued forward. The prince’s eyes ran up from Vermithor’s massive, black horned head, up his thick neck, to the golden saddle still between his shoulders. The saddle was dusty and covered in soot but some gold areas shone in the sunlight. 

Jacaerys was only a couple meters away from the enormous dragon, he realized he had never seen the dragon this close before. As Jace took one more step, Vermithor’s eye shot open, glaring directly at the Targaryen prince. Jace froze and stood still, and Vermithor grumbled as he lifted his head up. Jace decided to take a step backwards as Vermithor held his head high to let out a disgruntled bellow. 

“Lykiri, Vermithor,” Jace said loudly, but Vermithor continued to roar, “Lykiri!” Vermithor stopped roaring and looked down at Jace, eyeing him. “Dohaeras, Vermithor,” added the prince. Vermithor began to prop himself up, his knuckles of his wings pressing into the soft ground as he lifted his chest. 

Jacaerys held out his hand as Vermithor lowered his head, inhaling loudly as he approached the prince. Jace maintained his composure and eased his nerves. He held his hand outward and still. Vermithor continued to move closer to Jace’s hand, soon touching his scarred, scaly snout on Jace’s hand. Jace was in disbelief as he felt the warm scales of the massive dragon. His eyes were wide and his heart was pounding so hard it could burst out of his chest. 

Vermithor moved his large head to the side and lowered his shoulder. Jacaerys could then see the ropes dangling from Vermithor’s saddle. He had done it. 

High above in the sky, Syrax let out a loud call. Rhaenyra peered over Syrax’s shoulder as she flew over the Kingswood, coming upon the open pasture where Vermithor was. The Queen instantly spotted her son, he was climbing onto Vermithor’s back and getting onto the old saddle. Rhaenyra was astounded, and was intensely relieved that her son survived facing one of the fiercest dragons in the Seven Kingdoms. As Syrax circled overhead, the golden dragon continued to call out to Vermithor. Vermithor slowly got up onto his feet and reared up, letting out a low roar back to Syrax. Vermithor extended his dark orange wings, casting dark shadows over the pasture and scraping up against the nearby trees. With a leap into the air, the Bronze Fury was airborne, ascending into the sky with Prince Jacaerys on his back. 

Jacaerys could not contain his glee as he held on tightly to Vermithor’s saddle. He missed the feeling of the cold wind tugging at his hair as he ascended to the clouds. Vermithor was numerous times larger than Vermax, yet given his looming size, he was relatively quick. 

“Gevi, Vermithor, gevi,” praised Jace to his newly claimed dragon. 

Alicent

The Dowager Queen made her way to her private study after finishing breakfast with Prince Joffrey, since the Queen ran off to find her eldest son. Alicent spent most of her time in her study nowadays, when not attending Small Council and advising Rhaenyra. She spent her time writing and reading. Most of the time she was reading histories about Aegon the Conqueror, and trying to find any instances of this so-called dream he had that Rhaenyra spoke of. But, she had yet to find any written evidence of it. 

In her study, her desk had piles of books and papers about Aegon the Conqueror’s reign. Details about his relationships with each of his sister-wives, details on the dragons of their time, stories and customs of Old Valyria they did not want to lose to time and history. 

As Alicent walked through her office and around to the back of her desk, she saw a sealed message in the center of her desk. It bore an unbroken wax seal of House Hightower, and she immediately thought of her father. Alicent took the scroll, broke the seal, and opened it to read. 

Dearest daughter, 

Our armies march for Dorne upon order of the Queen and Lady Tyrell. I pray you decide to leave the capital and come back home to Oldtown. The blood of the Crown is tainted and no longer pure. The country sees this. I know you see it, too. 

Alicent put down the message with a sigh and was startled to see Ser Criston standing at the doorway to her office. 

“Your grace,” greeted Criston, as he stood still as a statue in his heavy Kingsguard armor. 

“Ser Criston,” Alicent cleared her throat, “I thought you were on leave today.” Alicent sat down at her desk and put the message to the side, hiding it among a pile of books and papers. 

“Nay,” Criston stepped into the office, looking around, “I was asked to stand in, since the Queen ran off to her dragon…” there was almost a hint of disgust in Criston’s tone. Alicent eyed him and then took out one of her books, opening it to prepare to write in it. It was a journal she used lately. 

“What did your father say?” he asked curtly. 

“Intercepting my messages, are you?” snapped Alicent back at the knight. She flattened the book’s pages as she looked at Criston. Criston shrugged his shoulders, 

“It’s your family sigil, who else would write to you from Oldtown?” 

“What do you want, Ser Criston?” 

“I wish we didn’t have to hide.” he said solemnly, pacing around Alicent’s office. He stepped into the sunlight from the nearby windows, basking in the warm sunlight. 

“I think you should stand guard outside.” suggested the Dowager Queen. Criston turned to look at Alicent and he approached her. He stood right beside her and she avoided looking at him. “And,” added Alicent, “my duty is to my children, and serving the Queen.” 

“The fucking Queen…” scoffed Criston, “you’re the Queen.” 

“Rhaenyra is the Queen.” Alicent stated coldly. 

“She’s got bastard sons, I thought you wanted to restore honor and civility to the Crown?” 

“Get out.” Alicent glared up at Criston. 

“A mother of bastards on the throne, and a bastard King we’ll have one day.” 

“Get out!” shouted Alicent, facing the knight. Criston Cole stared back at her and did not move. Alicent stood up from her chair and faced the knight. Alicent slapped Criston across the face and Criston held his face turned for a moment. His brown hair became messy across his forehead and he slowly turned to look at the infuriated Dowager Queen. Criston slowly took off his gloves and unlatched his gauntlets. Alicent eyed him up and down, 

“Are you deaf?” 

“In my eyes, you are the Queen. Not that whore,” muttered Criston, he began to unbuckle his belt over his pants. Alicent backed away but Criston grabbed her forcefully by her upper arm. Alicent winced and shoved Criston, but to no avail. He pulled her from around the desk, pushing her onto it at the front. Criston turned Alicent around and twisted one of her arms around her back. 

“Criston! Stop it!” she yelled angrily. Criston used his legs to pin Alicent’s legs against the desk and forced her to bend over the desk. He pushed her face into her books and papers. Criston then reached for his groin, unbuttoning his pants to reach for his cock. He hesitated and paused. He loosened his grip on Alicent and let go of her, stepping back. Alicent got up quickly and turned around, her heart was racing and she held her hand on her upper chest, right under her throat. 

“What has happened to you?” asked Alicent in a ghastly tone, her eyes swelling with tears, “The honorable man who once wanted to take his own life just for breaking his oath - now he wishes to break his oath over and over again.” 

“Do not lecture me on piety,” hissed Criston, “I want something more, I want something greater, with purpose and meaning…” 

“So you soil your Queen’s name?” barked Alicent angrily through her tears in her eyes. She cocked her head as she looked at Criston. Criston started to fasten his pants and buckle his belt. “Get out of my sight.” she ordered. 

8 Kilometers North of Sunspear

Dorne

Rhaenys sat on a large boulder with her head low, one hand rubbing her brow as she leaned forward. She was the first to reach the rendezvous point for the assault team of dragon riders, but was soon joined by her granddaughter Baela, and Helaena. Their dragons all rested in a nearby open plateau, as they were located high in a mountain range that overlooked the city of Sunspear. Baela approached her grandmother but did not say anything to her, only resting her hand on Rhaenys’ shoulder. Helaena did not like seeing the elder Princess so saddened and disappointed. She stood silently, holding her hands together, unsure of what to say or do. However, within minutes, her brothers arrived. 

“Why did you stop?” asked Aegon, walking into the open clearing, looking at Rhaenys. Rhaenys did not lift her head nor did she respond. “We left the job unfinished.”

“The army is there to finish the job,” said Baela irritatedly. Sunfyre roared loudly in the distance, calling out to Aegon. The young golden dragon wanted to get back into the air, and Moondancer let out a call as well. The other elder dragons were quiet and resting, dozing off into a slumber. Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Vhagar lay near one another on the edge of the plateau’s cliff, each facing a different direction. 

“There is no telling if Qoren Martell is dead.” said Aemond loudly as he joined the group, “We must return-”

“No.” Rhaenys stood up, “We have caused enough damage.” Aegon shook his head confusedly and chuckled, 

“Princess, this is war. What did you expect?” 

“War sure, but not complete and utter disregard to strategy and tactics.” she glared at Aemond, “You killed thousands, possibly tens of thousands.” 

“It would have come to this anyway,” said Aemond. 

“Qoren Martell did not respond to our demands.” noted Aegon, “He brought this upon himself.” 

“It is likely the Martells fled the city before our arrival,” said Rhaenys, putting her hands on her hips tiredly, “Lord Corlys will handle the ground invasion and will find out if the Water Gardens are truly abandoned.” 

“Then we must give him air support.” Aegon said simply, he started walking back to the dragons. 

“Stop,” said Rhaenys in a commanding voice, and Aegon stopped, with his back facing Rhaenys. 

“We put our own men at risk of a bloodbath without giving our support,” said Aegon loudly, “your own husband.”

“My lord husband is quite capable and experienced.” snapped Rhaenys, “You are to return to King’s Landing - all of you.” 

“You jest,” scoffed Aegon. 

“As Hand of the Queen, I carry the will and command of her grace, the Queen.” Rhaenys held her chin high as she stared across at Aegon. “This situation has gotten far too out of control.” she added. Aegon wanted to refute, but Aemond walked over to his brother and lightly grabbed his arm. Rhaenys stared down Aemond as well. 

“Let us go home, brother.” he said quietly to Aegon. The two brothers then walked side by side towards their dragons. Helaena watched nervously as they left, and she looked at Rhaenys with soft eyes. Rhaenys walked up to the Princess and held her forearm, 

“Keep an eye on them, Princess,” she said softly. Helaena nodded. Helaena then followed her brothers to the dragons to wake Dreamfyre. Rhaenys then turned to her granddaughter, Baela. 

“Grandmother, are you sure-”

“Yes,” Rhaenys touched Baela’s hand to comfort her, “there is no need for all of us here, the danger has subsided for now.” the two Targaryen-Velaryons watched Aemond and Aegon mount their dragons off in the distance. 

“They’re wild and untamed,” said Baela quietly, “but do not hold yourself back.” She looked up at her grandmother. 

“I know,” muttered Rhaenys, taking in a deep breath. “I am going to make sure we either find Qoren dead or alive. The city is ours, we caused enough damage. Just get home safe, love." She kissed Baela on her forehead and then sent her on her way. 

The Dragonpit

King’s Landing

Queen Rhaenyra watched in amazement from outside the lower cave entrance of the Dragonpit as the dragon-keepers slowly shepherded Vermithor into the cavernous lower level of the structure. Jacaerys walked up to his mother, watching as well. Vermithor grumbled at the dragon-keepers, nipping at one of their long spears as he slowly marched inside. 

“I cannot believe it, Jace,” said Rhaenyra proudly, “Vermithor had been unclaimed for… almost four decades now.” 

“I still do not believe it myself,” Jace said with a smile. The two watched as the bronze dragon entered the cavern, his lumbering and slow body being engulfed by the shadows. The tips of Vermithor’s wings scraped against the cave walls, if he were any larger like Vhagar, he surely would not fit. “I hope he likes it there.” added the prince. 

“It’s where he was born and spent most of his life,” exhaled Rhaenyra, “I just hope there is enough room for him.” She looked at her son and hugged him from her side, kissing him on his forehead. They were roughly the same height, with Jace being just an inch or two taller than his mother. Jace smiled and shrugged his mother off his arm, 

“Mother, stop, please.” he said embarrassingly. 

“Come, let us go back home.” she rubbed Jace’s back, and the two turned and headed for the nearby royal carriage waiting for them. 

…

“I want to aid in the quest for Dorne.” said Jacaerys, as he and his mother rode inside the enclosed carriage back to the Red Keep. The entourage of horses trotted loudly on the cobblestone streets and the carriage rocked. 

“There will be a time, just be patient, Jace.” reassured Rhaenyra. 

“You sent everyone but me,” 

“You had no dragon.” responded Rhaenyra, “And you are the heir-”

“So everyone else is disposable?” pondered Jace aloud, and Rhaenyra scoffed and shook her head. 

“You have a responsibility unlike the rest of your family. In times of war, your primary duty is to survive. Is that clear?” she stared at her son with wide eyes. Jacaerys sighed and looked out the mesh window slit on the side of the carriage. 

“I want to hold off the marriage to Helaena.” said Jace, avoiding eye contact with his mother. 

“Why?” she asked gently, hoping that her son would look back at her while they spoke. 

“Just doesn’t seem like the right time, right now.” 

“Jace,” sighed Rhaenyra. 

“Yes?” Jace looked at his mother with wide open eyes. 

“Helaena is a good, sweet, girl. She is fast approaching an age that no lord in the Realm would take her hand… at least for her first marriage.” Rhaenyra peered into her son’s eyes from her seat, trying to read him. 

“I know she is, she is lovely and amazing,” Jace rubbed his hands together nervously, “it doesn’t feel right, right now.” he looked at his mother. Rhaenyra shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, 

“Alright, then we can wait a little bit longer. You know you can just be honest with me, sweet boy.” 

“I know, I know.” exhaled Jace. He felt somewhat relieved, like a pressure lifted off his chest and shoulders… even though it was probably temporary. 

...

Upon returning to the Red Keep, Jacaerys felt he desperately needed a bath to get rid of the smell of dragon all over his clothes and body. Vermithor was an old dragon, and there was almost a scent of decaying flesh to his odor, something he never experienced with Vermax. He assumed it came from the old beast’s bad breath, after a century of devouring only the gods know what. 

Jacaerys made his way to the royal bathhouse, greeted by two handmaidens that aided in undressing him in a small side room. They dutifully took off his red Targaryen cloak, unpinned his sigil pin, unlaced his boots and took his coat for him. 

“That’ll do, I can handle it from here.” said Jacaerys, as he was now just wearing his undergarments, underwear and a loose tunic shirt. The two handmaidens smiled and bowed their heads, with one of them handing him a soft robe to put on. Once they left and shut the door, Jacaerys slid off his trunks and shirt, letting out a long exhale. His formal suits were always so tight and restricting, especially around his chest and abdomen. He looked down at his own body, from his softly formed abs, his flaccid cock and balls that hung low, and his feet that ached. He swiftly put on the robe and headed out to the main bath hall. 

Jacaerys was alone in the bathhouse, having the entire hot pool to himself. He took off his robe, placing it on a wooden bench that sat on the poolside. On the bench was a small opened box with his favorite soaps. He took the box and set it on the floor right at the edge of the pool so he could reach it easily. He stepped into the water, one step at a time, and he closed his eyes as he felt the scalding hot water against his ankles, then his shins, and then his knees and thighs. Jacaerys slowly sat down on one of the stone steps, feeling the water then soak up his back and chest. The water reached his collarbones and he took a moment to relax. 

Jace reached for a bar of soap and began to lather his arms. It was scented with lavender. He instantly remembered the night he spent with Aemond, and Aemond adored the scent. He felt tense as he thought of Aemond still out on the battlefield, wondering how the mission was going in Dorne, and if he’d be returning home soon. 

I want to fuck you . Jace remembered Aemond saying to him that same night. Jace felt his cock growing slightly hard. He closed his eyes, reminiscing of that night they were together. His lips quivered at the thought of Aemond on top of him again, in control, taking what he wanted. With the soap in his left hand, Jace reached his right hand down to his cock underwater. He stroked it a few times, then rubbed his balls. He inched to the edge of the step that he sat on, and ran his fingers behind his balls, to his hole. He rubbed around it with a single finger, then pressed the tip of his finger in his hole. Jace closed his eyes and dropped his jaw as he enjoyed the pleasure, moving his finger in and out of his hole just by about an inch. He pressed his finger in another inch deeper, and then another, until his finger was in as deep by his knuckle. His cock was hard as a steel sword, and he dropped the soap to stroke his cock with his other hand. 

Jace pictured being face to face with Aemond, and that Aemond was inserting his cock into his hole. Jace took his finger out, and then used two fingers to slide back inside his hole. He moved it in and out a bit faster, stroking his cock as well, gasping from pleasure. He laid his head back on the ledge of the pool, jerking his cock harder. He slowly moved his hips back and forth, imagining that he was riding Aemond’s cock. Jace pushed his fingers in deeper and began to groan in ecstasy, 

“Aemond,” he whispered in pleasure. He couldn’t hold back any longer and jerked his cock faster. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jace opened his eyes and watched cum shoot out of his cock underwater. He laid his head back again on the stone floor. He removed his fingers from his hole and let go of his cock, placing his hands on the step he sat on. The prince stared up at the ceiling, feeling his heart start to slow down from the intense speed it was beating at. He wanted Aemond to return immediately, he couldn’t wait any longer. 

Daeron 

Oldtown

It was late at night when Prince Daeron snuck out a hidden corridor attached to his bedroom in the Hightower. The young prince wore a black cloak and a hood over his head, slipping through the narrow tunnels, against the mildew-covered bricks, heading downward through the castle. 

Daeron made his way out to the rear stables of the Hightower, keeping his head low as he traversed through the muddy ground. The horses were asleep and quiet, there were barely any torches lit, but Daeron knew where to go. He passed through the main section of the stables and out into a fairly abandoned barn. He unlatched the metal door as carefully as he could to not make any sound, and slipped inside. 

The barn was rather empty and cold, with just a pile of hay to the left side and a large trough of water. Laying in the middle of the barn was Tessarion, the prince’s blue dragon. The young dragon was already awake and lifted her head to watch curiously as Daeron entered. Tessarion’s deep blue scales reflected in the little bit of moonlight that poured in from a hole in the roof of the barn. Daeron walked up to Tessarion, scratching her smooth chin. Tessarion purred in a grumbling tone and closed her eyes. 

“We have to go, Tessarion,” said Daeron in a whisper. He caressed above her eye and rubbed one of her pearl-white horns, “to Dorne.” The young dragon, only sixteen years of age, had a body larger than two horses, and his wingspan reached twelve meters across. Tessarion huffed and got up on her feet. Daeron went over to the rear barn door and opened the latch. He pushed open both of the large doors, and the cool nightly breeze rushed in. Daeron climbed onto Tessarion’s saddle and buckled himself into one of the saddle’s latches. 

“Soves, Tessarion,” commanded Daeron in Valyrian. Tessarion grunted and began to run out of the barn, extending her wings as soon as she exited, and lifted off into the sky. Daeron held on tightly as she ascended at a steep incline, and he smiled from excitement. 

Rhaenyra

The Small Council

“The Tyrell army is nearing Nightsong, they should arrive on the morrow.” reported Grand Maester Orwyle, as he sat at the Small Council table with the other members, including Queen Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent. There were two empty seats, one reserved for Princess Rhaenys, and another typically reserved for Prince Aegon, even though he did not always attend every meeting. It was early in the morning, and the Queen received some updates on the war effort in Dorne. A few days had passed since their direct engagement at Sunspear.

“Any news on Sunspear and our team of dragonriders?” asked Rhaenyra. Orwyle’s face sunk and he stammered, 

“Y-yes, your grace.” he held a few scrolls of messages on the table, “A raven came late last night from Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.” 

“Well?” 

“Lord Corlys has managed to successfully occupy Sunspear,” began Orwyle, and Rhaenyra seemed pleased, “but only after the city was burned down.” 

“What?” 

“The city’s defenses were destroyed and then the city was burned,” he said. Rhaenyra scoffed and looked around the table. Alicent had a worried look in her eyes as usual, but the Dowager Queen lowered her head. She had a hunch as to who exactly initiated the burning down of the city. “We did spot Vhagar approaching the city, however, your grace.” 

“And not the others?” Rhaenyra’s hands were tense and she tightened them into fists. 

“No.” 

“Get me Prince Aemond.” 

Aemond 

Aemond slipped into the Red Keep rather unnoticed, as it was still early in the morning. He had landed Vhagar outside of the city in a nearby village, and had taken a horse into the city. He walked quickly and with stride as he traversed through the halls of the Red Keep. He quickly climbed the stairs, winding up through Maegor’s Holdfast. He had only one thing on his mind. 

Aemond reached the hall of private residences, stopping at Prince Jacaerys’ door. He knocked on the door impatiently. Aemond waited a few seconds. 

“Come,” said a groggy voice on the inside. Aemond opened the door, stepping into Jace’s room, and seeing him sitting up in his bed. Jace’s hair was a mess, wriggly and unbrushed as he was just sleeping. Jace rubbed his eyes and then realized who was standing in his room. Aemond closed the door behind him and he walked into the room. Jacaerys got up from his bed, he was shirtless, and stood in front of Aemond. The two stared at one another. Jace put his hand on Aemond’s chest over his coat, and Aemond caressed Jace’s face with one hand, and wrapped his other around Jace’s lower back. 

“What are you doing here so soon?” asked Jace in a quiet voice. 

“I flew straight from Dorne,” whispered Aemond, leaning in to smell Jace and graze his lips across Jace’s lips. Aemond kissed Jacaerys passionately, breathing closely on him, their noses pressing against each other’s. “I couldn’t wait any longer,” he said. 

“I thought of you every day and night,” Jace said with a gasp as Aemond squeezed his ass and pulled him closer against his body. 

“As did I,” replied Aemond, “even a day away from you… I dislike it.” Jace smiled and reached upward to continue kissing Aemond. Aemond let go of Jace and started unbuttoning his coat, throwing it across the room, shoving off his boots and pants. Jacaerys rubbed his hands across Aemond’s chest and his abs, his heart racing as he touched Aemond. Aemond ran his fingers through Jace’s thick brown hair as he kissed him, walking into him, and Jace walked backwards towards his bed. 

“I claimed a dragon,” smiled Jace between the kisses from Aemond. Aemond stopped kissing Jace and looked at him in awe, and confusion. “Vermithor,” said Jace. 

“You claimed Vermithor?” Aemond’s lips began to curl into a smile, and Jace nodded. “Perhaps it was fate that together we would ride the largest dragons in the world,” Aemond felt more aroused and kissed Jace all over his neck. 

“I hadn’t thought of that…” muttered Jace quietly as Aemond kissed him. Aemond grunted and pressed his bulge against Jace’s body. 

“I burned down Sunspear for you,” mumbled Aemond quietly, “for what they did to you and your dragon.” Jace was feeling overwhelmed and his chest started to hurt. He pushed Aemond off and sat down on the edge of his bed. 

“What is it?” asked Aemond, he walked up to Jace to stand right in front of him. Jace looked up at the thin, blonde, prince. 

“This… this scares me.” Jace nearly choked up on his words, “Us.” 

“I will burn a thousand cities for you, if it means making you mine.” insisted Aemond, he crouched in front of Jace, so Jace looked down at him. Aemond kissed Jace’s knee and inner thigh, “I will burn everything and everyone if that means it leaves just the two of us... free."

“You really burned Sunspear for me? And all those people…” 

“They’re traitors.” said Aemond sharply, getting up and leaning onto Jace. Jace leaned back onto his elbows as Aemond stood over him. Jacaerys put his hands on the waistband of Aemond’s underwear, sliding the tips of his fingers inside of it to pull them down. He paused when the waistband reached the base of Aemond’s cock, and then slid them off entirely. Jace continued to look up at Aemond, reaching for his cock to feel it swell harder in his hand. Jacaerys stroked Aemond’s long cock and then pursed his lips on the head of it, licking around the head. Aemond closed his eyes, letting out a deep exhale as Jacaerys began to swallow Aemond’s cock in his mouth. Jace sucked Aemond’s cock slowly, feeling him throb every few moments. 

Aemond then pushed Jace gently off of his cock and pushed his shoulder so he’d lay down on the edge of the bed. Aemond lifted Jace’s legs to hold them at his waist, and he pressed his hardened cock against Jace’s balls and taint. Aemond spit into his hand, and rubbed his wet fingers against Jace’s hole, slowly stroking his cock as well. 

“What are you doing?” whispered Jace. 

“Just relax,” said Aemond. He slid first one finger inside of Jace’s hole, fingering him slowly. Jace gasped and continued to look deeply into Aemond’s eyes. Aemond then slid in a second finger and started fingering him slightly faster with consistent rhythm. He stroked the tip of Jace’s cock which began to drip with precum, and he smirked as Jace gasped in pleasure. Aemond removed his fingers and spit on his own hand again, lubing his own cock. He held his cock at Jace’s hole, rubbing its head against and around his hole. Jace closed his eyes, and Aemond watched carefully. 

Aemond pushed his cock inside of Jace, just an inch at first, and Jace groaned and winced. 

“Is that too fast?” asked Aemond. 

“No,” gasped Jace, “keep going, slowly,” Aemond then pushed his cock in another two inches, and Jace moaned. Aemond decided to pull out slightly and push back in, slowly thrusting in and out of Jace, but not too deep. As Aemond stood against the bedside, thrusting his hips to fuck, Jace widened his legs. 

“You're tight,” whispered Aemond, pushing his cock in deeper and he leaned forward. Jace opened his eyes and wrapped his arms around the back of Aemond’s neck, pulling him in to kiss him. Aemond lifted one knee to rest on the edge of the bed, slowly fucking Jace from a slight angle. His long silver blond hair spilled onto Jace’s neck and shoulders, but he didn’t mind it at all. 

“Oh yes, Aemond,” whispered Jace, he wanted Aemond closer as he pulled him, “deeper.” Aemond pushed his cock fully inside of Jacaerys, and the brown haired prince let out a loud moan. Aemond began to fuck Jace faster. Aemond lifted and pushed Jace closer to the center of the bed so he could get on the bed as well. He took one of Jace’s legs and put it over his shoulder, and Jace wrapped the other leg around Aemond’s back. 

“Keep going, I’m close,” panted Jace. He rubbed one hand on Aemond’s flexed muscular arm and the other down Aemond’s chest. He watched as Aemond’s abs flexed back and forth as he continued to be fucked. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” teased Aemond, and Jace nodded his head. Aemond leaned his body further down onto Jace’s body, and Jace moaned. “I’ll fuck it out of you,” gritted Aemond sensually. 

“Oh fuck, yes, Aemond, yes,” moaned Jace, digging his fingernails into Aemond’s back. Jace reached for his own cock and within a few strokes, he ejaculated on his own belly and chest. Aemond groaned and pounded Jace harder, 

“Fuck,” Aemond pounded hard as he came inside of Jace, slowing down his thrusting and panted loudly. He looked into Jace’s eyes passionately. Jace cupped Aemond’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, brushing back some of Aemond’s hair out of the way. 

Aemond went to get a wet towel from the side of Jace’s bedroom, bringing it over to him to clean his body. Jace laid still on his bed, staring at the ceiling, with his arms outstretched. Aemond got back onto the bed and laid beside Jace, propped up on his elbow so he could wipe Jace’s body. The towel was cold from its dampness and he flinched at first. Aemond chuckled lightly. 

“Too cold?” he asked. Jace nodded, 

“Just a little.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Aemond eyed Jace’s body with a studious stare, admiring him, “you did well.” 

“As did you,” Aemond’s eye darted to look at Jace, and the brown haired prince’s lips curled into a smile. “Oh, I can’t reward you with a compliment?” teased Jace.

“No, you may. I’ve just never been complimented…” noted Aemond, continuing to look at Jace’s chest as he cleaned the cum off of him. Jace’s smile faded upon hearing that. He ran his fingers across Aemond’s forehead, pulling back some of his hair to tuck it behind his ear. He caressed Aemond’s cheek. 

“I will change that,” said Jace as Aemond finished wiping his body with the damp towel. Jace got up slightly to kiss Aemond, caressing his face, running his hand down his neck and to his chest. He couldn’t get enough of touching Aemond’s chest. Jace then laid back down on his bed, watching Aemond loom over him as he laid on his side. Aemond ran his fingers down the center of Jace’s chest down to his soft abs. He then realized he was still wearing his eyepatch and took it off. Jacaerys was stunned, he had never seen Aemond take it off himself willingly. The last two times, he did it himself. His heart fluttered as he realized how comfortable Aemond must be feeling around him now. Aemond realized that Jacaerys was staring at him, 

“What is it?” he smirked. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Jace sighed satisfyingly. 

“You’re beautiful,” remarked the silver haired prince, “I do not want to leave your side.”  

Chapter Text

Aemond & Jacaerys

The Red Keep

The two enamored princes laid in bed together, having enjoyed an intimate reunion upon Aemond’s arrival just earlier that morning. Jacaerys laid his head on Aemond’s bare chest, and the silver haired prince caressed Jace’s back as he held him. They enjoyed the quiet together, it was tranquil and comforting. They didn’t have to think about the stresses that stood right outside the bedroom door. 

“Us, riding the two largest dragons in the world,” muttered Aemond, he was still in amazement over the fact that Jacaerys claimed Vermithor, “there wouldn’t be anyone who challenges us. No one challenging you… imagine us ruling together.” he thought out loud.

“Ruling together?” pondered Jacaerys, “Do you just want to be closer to my crown?” 

“No, no,” chuckled Aemond, caressing Jace’s face and jaw, “the crown is yours. I’d die to defend that right.” Jace nodded in understanding. “There is nothing we could not do together,” he added. 

“I…” Jace began, “I do not want to marry Helaena.” He looked up at Aemond, resting the back of his head on Aemond’s arm. Aemond looked into Jace’s eyes, silently for just a moment. He could see the fear in Jace’s eyes, and the sadness. 

“I do not want you to marry anyone,” responded Aemond. 

“But I am going to have to,” said Jace sadly, “to have heirs.” Aemond ran his fingers down Jace’s throat, down his chest to rub his torso. 

“If only I could make you an heir,” he said in a low voice, his lips curling into a smile. Jacaerys smiled and laughed quietly to himself, interrupted by Aemond’s kiss. 

“You want to make me an heir?” teased Jacaerys. Aemond slowly got on top of Jacaerys, positioning his body between Jacaerys’ legs. 

“I can try,” Aemond said in a deep voice, kissing Jace’s pink lips, moving down to his neck. “Over and over and over again,” Jacaerys inhaled deeply as he felt his body shudder, he craved feeling Aemond’s body on his own. 

There was an abrupt knock at the door, 

“Prince Jacaerys,” it was Ser Harrold. Aemond rolled off of Jace and jumped out of bed. Jacaerys leapt out of bed as well, scrambling for his pants. Aemond did the same. 

“One moment!” said Jacaerys. Aemond put on his pants as quickly as he could and headed for the wall of three windows to the right side of the room. “Where are you going?” whispered Jace in a panic. Aemond had a foot on the window sill, ready to hide outside on the ledge. There was a panic in Aemond’s eye as well. 

“It is her grace, the Queen.” mentioned Ser Harrold. Aemond felt a pit in his stomach and he ignored Jace, going outside on the window ledge. Jace’s heart was racing as he watched Aemond disappear outside the windows. Jace slid on his trousers, and within seconds, Aemond was gone, and the curtains billowed in the wind. 

“Come,” said Jace, brushing back his hair out of his forehead with his hand. The door swung open and there stood his mother and Ser Harrold. 

“Mother, good morrow.” greeted Jace, trying to calm himself. 

“Good morrow, sweet boy,” Rhaenyra walked into the room and kissed her son on his forehead, “I am sorry to wake you this early.”

“What is the matter?” he asked curiously, crossing his arms. 

“I was told Prince Aemond arrived this morning, but he was not in his room when Ser Harrold went to fetch him.” Rhaenyra said, “Did you happen to hear or see him come in?” Jacaerys had gone to his tall wardrobe, opening it to get a shirt. 

“No, I have not. I did not realize he arrived so soon from Dorne.” 

“Aye, he arrived before the others.” Rhaenyra paced around the room, “Small Council is in session at the moment, we were discussing Dorne… and what Aemond has done.” 

“And what has Aemond done?” asked Jace. 

“He burned down all of Sunspear, without adhering to the plan,” Rhaenyra held her hands together at her lower belly. 

“Sounds like he accelerated the plan, mother.” Rhaenyra eyed her son, 

“You are going to be King one day,” she said, “and one thing you must learn is restraint and considering all options before ending lives.” Rhaenyra faced Jace who stood beside his bed. She looked past him and onto the pillow she saw an eye patch. She was confused and taken aback, but then looked immediately at Jace. 

“I understand restraint, I also understand acting quickly before the enemy can act against us.” noted Jace. Rhaenyra nodded and headed for the door, 

“If you see Aemond, send him to me.” 

“As you wish, mother.” exhaled Jace. Rhaenyra left the room and Ser Harrold shut the door, leaving Jace. The prince ran over to the windows and stuck his head outside, looking down below. He was relieved to see that there wasn’t a corpse hundreds of feet below in the courtyard. He then looked from the left to ride and didn’t see Aemond at all. Jacaerys removed his head from outside the window and faced his bed, instantly seeing Aemond’s eyepatch in the middle of the bed. 

“Fucking seven hells.” 

Alicent

The Dowager Queen was leaving the Small Council room, as the session had ended for the time being. Even though it was quite early in the morning, she wore a fitted blue-green gown with a low collar, nearly exposing her shoulders. Her bright auburn hair had just a single braid that formed a crown on her head, but most of her hair laid loose on her shoulders and upper back. She had no interest in keeping up the restrictive and overtly formal appearances as she did when her late husband ruled. The former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms did enjoy being on Rhaenyra’s council; she was relieved that Rhaenyra respected and valued her opinion. It was something that was often overshadowed by her father during the reign of her late husband. 

As Alicent walked up the wide set of stairs heading towards her private study, she saw Aemond at the top of the stairs, walking down the stairs in her direction. He stopped at a landing between the two. Alicent stared at her son with large eyes, filled with disappointment and frustration. 

“Aemond,” 

“Mother,” greeted the middle prince. He forced a smile upon seeing his mother as she reached the landing. They stood in the bright rays of sunlight, basking in its warmth from the chilly stairwell.

“Where are your brother and sister?” she stood close to her son, looking up at him. 

“Still en route from Dorne, I suspect.” 

“And why did you burn down Sunspear? Is that what Princess Rhaenys ordered?” she grabbed Aemond’s wrist, holding it tightly. Aemond kept his head high but his eye looked down at his mother. 

“I did what I had to do, the Martells fled the city, they mocked our House.” said Aemond plainly. He had no shame in what he had done. He was proud of it. “They stuck Vermax’s head on a pike above the city gate. Tell me, what would you have done in my place?”

“I would have obeyed the orders of the Queen,” snapped Alicent, and she pushed Aemond’s arm away and let him go.  

“The Queen is afraid of acting, of using her power,” Aemond insisted in a low voice, “I will force Dorne onto its knees for her.” 

“Mind yourself, Aemond.” Alicent said, shaking her head, “She wishes to see you, you should go see her immediately.” 

“Mind myself? I am the one here who is unafraid to act, to do what is necessary.” Aemond explained, in almost a sweet, innocent tone. “After all, I am saving the lives of our own soldiers. I say let us not put them on the frontlines and at risk. The Queen will be the one who costs us more lives.” 

“An army does far less damage than a dragon,” insisted Alicent. 

“Do they? I feel that is debatable, mother. It all depends on the goal.”

“The Queen does not wish to rule over ashes and bones.” the Dowager Queen glared up at her son, and Aemond slowly nodded. 

“We will only further disagree, I’m afraid.” 

“Aye, that I’ve known already.” nodded Alicent. Aemond moved to walk past his mother but she grabbed his arm again. Aemond turned his head to look down at her hand that gripped his forearm, and then he looked her in the eyes. “Do not be the one who pushes the stability of the Crown off the cliff’s edge.” she muttered. 

“I will only bring glory to the Crown.” 

Aegon

The next morning, the last three Targaryen dragonriders had arrived in King’s Landing. Aegon was exhausted from his flight from Dorne, as were Helaena and Baela. The three stopped in Storm’s End but did not stay for an entire night, as they wanted to make haste. With just a few hours of sleep, the three made their way to the Small Council chamber, where the Queen waited. 

Aegon, Helaena, and Baela walked side by side through the halls as they entered the Small Council room. The three still wore their Targaryen armor, with rounded and rigid shoulder plates, deep-red painted chest plates, and light iron tasses on their hips. Aegon smiled as he entered the room and saw Rhaenyra seated at the head of the table, however, Rhaenyra kept a straight face and did not smile back at her husband. 

“Welcome home,” greeted Rhaenyra. Aegon, Helaena, and Baela stood before the Small Council table. Aemond stepped out from the shadows of the side of the room, eyeing Aegon and Helaena as he joined them to face the Small Council. 

“Princess Rhaenys sent a raven the other night, and I am fully aware of what has happened at Sunspear.” continued the Queen, letting out a sigh, “Is there anything else you would all like to add?” Rhaenyra looked between Aegon and Aemond. She knew that Helaena and Baela followed their orders, they did not engage in any kind of firefight as directed. 

“My Queen,” Aegon spoke up, “the city lies in ruin, but I can assure you, we have weakened their resolve.” Rhaenyra laughed, 

“I am certain you’ve done the opposite… my prince.” 

“I have followed orders, I abided by Princess Rhaenys,” continued Aegon, “I focused on destroying defensive structures -” Rhaenyra held up her hand, gesturing for Aegon to stop talking. The Prince Consort saw her gesture and quieted. 

“Qoren Martell is certainly alive.” the Queen took in a deep breath, “Lord Corlys and his army holds the city… or what remains of it. But, he will not remain there long. Lord Tyland,” Rhaenyra looked to the short haired, dirty-blond, Lannister twin at the end of her table. 

“Yes, your grace?” 

“Remind us of the status of the Lannister fleet.” 

“The Lannister fleet has just sailed past the Arbor, they will soon reach the southern seaboard of Dorne.” explained Tyland Lannister. 

“The Lannister fleet contains a thousand soldiers,” Rhaenyra said, looking at Aegon and Aemond, “we will conduct the remainder of this invasion of Dorne with men when taking hold of any cities or towns.” 

“What about Princess Rhaenys and Meleys?” blurted Aegon, “She gets to remain in Dorne?” 

“Princess Rhaenys is leading the war effort and protecting our men.” said Rhaenyra sternly, “If necessary, she will use Meleys on strongholds. The Lannister army will land at Lemonwood on the southern coast. With Lord Corlys marching inland from the east, and the Tyrell army marching inland from the north, we will surround the enemy.” 

“Your grace,” stammered Aegon, “let us not rule out the use of our dragons, as it can bring a quicker end to the war.” 

“Which is why Princess Rhaenys and Meleys will remain in Dorne for the time being.” Rhaenyra stood up, “That adjourns today’s meeting.” 

…

“Rhaenyra, please. Just speak with me.” Aegon pleaded as he followed Rhaenyra into their residence. Rhaenyra was uninterested and disappointed, walking over to her vanity table to take off some of her jewelry. “It was Aemond that burned down the city, not I.” 

“Enough,” muttered Rhaenyra. 

“This was inevitable, they mounted Vermax’s head on the city gate!” exclaimed Aegon, walking over to Rhaenyra’s side. Rhaenyra took off her golden bracelets and slammed them on the table. Aegon became quiet and looked at his wife. Rhaenyra took a deep breath. 

“This war has only been elongated by what your brother did.” she said, turning her head to look at Aegon. 

“He was the one who disobeyed your orders. The Dornish attempted to kill us, they shot scorpion bolts at us, including Rhaenys.” he insisted, stepping up to Rhaenyra’s side. He reached for her hand that rested on the table. Rhaenyra missed the feeling of Aegon’s touch, and she let him hold her hand. “I beg you to hear what I tell you, my Queen.” Rhaenyra looked up at her husband, 

“If Aemond did not burn down the city, the Dornish forces would have still had refuge while our soldiers marched in. They would have continued to shoot bolts at us in the sky. We are lucky none of us were shot and killed…” Aegon’s voice was passionate, he did not plead with his wife from a place of frustration or anger. “I know you are good and kind and do not wish to commit any bloodshed.” He rubbed his thumb on the back of Rhaenyra’s hand as he held it. 

“I just want this to end.” sighed Rhaenyra, lowering her head. 

“And it will,” he knelt beside her, looking up into her eyes, “we will end it. In time. I serve only you… my love.” Aegon stood up and so did Rhaenrya and the two kissed one another. Aegon wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra, 

“I just worry if Aemond does.” she whispered. Aegon grunted, 

“You’re the fucking Queen,” he said in a deep voice, “he has to, or else.” He held onto Rhaenyra in a warm embrace, as if he were protecting her. Rhaenyra held her hands on Aegon’s chest and she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I am not fond of you out in the battlefield,” she said quietly. Aegon chuckled quietly, slowly rubbing Rhaenyra’s back, from her shoulder blades, down to her lower back. 

“You are the reason why I am so willing to go off fighting with Sunfyre,” Rhaenyra looked up at Aegon. “But do I want to leave, no. And I will be just fine staying at your side, here.” he kissed Rhaenyra and continued to embrace her. 

“I have to go,” she said, her face nearly buried in Aegon’s chest. 

“Where?”

“I have a meeting with Lord Tyland and a representative from the Iron Bank.” she said with a deep exhale. 

“Are we broke?” pondered Aegon. 

“No, no,” Rhaenyra shook her head, “it is to keep our finances in check, perhaps acquire some assistance. We are fine. Now, go bathe. You reek of dragon and all sorts of things.” 

Godsgrace

Dorne

Godsgrace was a castle belonging to House Allyrion, a vassal of House Martell, roughly a hundred fifty kilometers west of Sunspear, deep in the interior of the Dornish peninsula. The castle was robust with thick sandstone walls, rectangular in formation, perched on a rocky cliff. The castle was composed of a rectangular keep with four pointed towers on its corners, a wide cylindrical tower near the gatehouse, and a single tall diamond shaped tower near the rear of the keep. Godsgrace sat on a cliff that overlooked the Greenblood River, which ran from the deep interior of the countryside, all the way to Sunspear and the ocean. 

Prince Qoren Martell sat with one leg raised and wrapped in bandages in a warmly lit room, deep within the keep of Godsgrace. He was being attended to by a pair of doctors and the castle’s maester. He had his right arm in a sling, broken from the first Targaryen attack a few weeks ago on the Water Gardens. The Prince of Dorne sat, biting the inside of his cheek, withholding tears in his eyes. 

“The Tyrells have reached Nightsong with an army of thirty thousand,” the ruling Lady of Godsgrace spoke softly to her Prince, “they will surely venture into the Red Mountains by tomorrow’s end.” The Lady of Godsgrace, Gynevra Allyrion, a thirty-two year old woman with dark brown hair braided into two buns on the lower back side of her head, was now the head of House Allyrion. The unfortunate deaths of her father and older brother catapulted Gynevra into power just a few months ago, and she was quick to offer Prince Qoren and his family refuge. 

Lady Gynevra sat across from Prince Qoren on a stiff wooden chair, she poured him a cup of wine and waited until the doctors were finished examining his broken arm to hand him the drink. 

“A fleet of Lannister ships have been spotted in the Summer Sea.” continued Lady Gynevra, “They could land anywhere from Hellholt, Lemonwood, or even Sunspear.” 

“There’s nothing left of Sunspear,” Qoren inhaled, his nose sniffling, “they took my home from me.” Qoren looked up at the middle aged maester and the two doctors, “Enough, enough of this autopsy. I feel fine.” 

“Just continue to rest, my prince.” said the maester, bowing his head. He then bowed to Lady Gynevra, and the three quickly left the room. 

“This fight is far from over, my prince.” insisted Gynevra, she handed Qoren the cup of red wine. Qoren took the cup and took a long drink. “They were bold enough to attack the capital directly, but four of their dragons were spotted heading back north.” 

“There were five.” said Qoren, clearing his throat and setting down the empty cup of wine on the nearby end table. “All it takes is one.” 

“We have fended off the invaders before, we can fend them off again.” Gynevra was ten years younger than Qoren, and she contained far more optimism and hope. 

“You did not see what I saw, Gynevra.” scoffed Qoren, “Those dragons cut through Sunspear as if knives slicing through whale blubber.”

“Then, what are you considering, my prince?” Gynevra eyed the prince curiously. Qoren wiped his nose with his wrist. 

“We cannot win in the open battlefield, so we must take to the hills, to the mountains, to the cliffs and canyons.” he said, “I will not let Dorne lose her freedom and be shackled to a crown that sits a thousand leagues away.” 

“My men are ready to fight,” said Gynevra eagerly, “I want to send them to Prince’s Pass and join the rest of the defense force.” 

“No, they won’t make it in time.” said Qoren strictly, “The Tyrells will have crossed into the country - if the defense force fails. The interior is inhospitable, I pray the desert burns away the foreigners. Planky Town is the next largest city, the largest population center after Sunspear.” 

“The Tyrells will most likely go for Hellholt, if they cross through the mountains. It would give them an outpost for the interior.” noted Gynevra, “Their army is formidable, not as large as thirty-thousand, but the castle’s walls are high and mighty.” 

“Aye,” nodded Qoren. He looked around the room. There were shelves with small sculptures of snakes and scorpions. The Lady of Godsgrace had many trinkets across the living space, even swords and daggers mounted on the white painted walls. “My children ask me day and night when we can return home,” stated Qoren, “I do not know how to tell them that home no longer exists.” 

“I know,” nodded Gynevra, “but we shall build them a new home. Sunspear will be rebuilt, my prince.” 

“They wanted to meet with me,” Qoren shook his head, “the enemy.”

“Surely to force demands upon you.” 

“If dragons return, Gynevra,” Qoren eyed the young lady, “I do not know how much longer our country can withstand the flames.” 

“You must have hope, you must.” urged Gynevra, standing up. The Lady wore an elegant deep orange and yellow sleeveless dress, with a tight gemstone necklace around her throat, “Do not give in to despair.” 

“Not despair… realism.” 

Rhaenyra 

The Queen remained in her bedchambers that evening reading as she waited for Aegon to finish bathing from his return from Dorne. Rhaenyra did not mind the stillness and silence of solitude. It reminded her of being on Dragonstone. However, it became hard for her to concentrate lately. Her mind always drifted off to Dorne, imagining the chaos that had ensued following their siege of Sunspear. On paper, it seemed like an easy victory that Dorne would bend the knee upon being visited by five dragons. Although, if it were that easy, her ancestors would have conquered Dorne like they did the other kingdoms across the continent. 

She began to doubt herself, wondering if it was even a good idea to engage in a conflict with Dorne. She knew in the back of her mind that Dorne would not show up to the signing of the royal charter and the pledging of fealty to her, at the start of her reign. What had she unleashed on the Realm? 

Rhaenyra rubbed her tired eyes as she got up from the couch in her lounging room, walking over to her vanity table. She sat down at the table and took out a night cream from one of the table’s drawers. She began rubbing the lotion on her cheeks and then on her neck. She rubbed her shoulders, sliding her hand within her loose nightgown. 

“My Queen,” Aegon entered the room and Rhaenyra turned her head, watching the Prince Consort bow fully forward, extravagantly. She began to chuckle, 

“Attended a class for etiquette I see,” she rubbed the last of her lotion on her forearms. Aegon wore a sleeveless tunic and light trousers, taking off his shoes as he walked into the living space. His hair was still damp from his bath and he stood in the doorway to their bedroom. He held out his hand to Rhaenyra, and she got up to join him. Aegon took Rhaenyra’s hand and pulled her in for a kiss. 

“You smell nice, too.” said Aegon as he kissed Rhaenyra, running his nose down her neck. “I’ve missed you so,” he grunted, kissing Rhaenyra’s neck passionately. 

“It’s only been a few days,” Rhaenyra tried moving to the bed but Aegon did not let go of her, and she chuckled softly. 

“Too long for me.” he insisted, and he started to take off his own clothes. Aegon threw his shirt and his pants onto the floor, revealing his naked body to Rhaenyra. He started pulling down her nightgown from her shoulders, squeezing her breasts. Aegon moved his hips into Rhaenyra’s, his hard cock poking between her legs, just grazing against her cunt. 

“Did you miss me?” he asked her quietly, lowering his hand to rub her cunt. Rhaenyra held onto Aegon tighter, wrapping her hands around his back. She nodded her head, unable to speak as the pleasure overcame her. Aegon slid two fingers inside of her, pulling out and pushing in repetitively. Rhaenyra instinctively raised one of her legs, wrapping it around Aegon’s waist, and he held her thigh up with his other hand. 

“I need to fuck you,” grunted Aegon, biting Rhaenyra’s ear. He rubbed his fingers against her hole, she had gotten wet quickly and he started to rub his own cock. He held his cock and rubbed the tip of it against her hole, feeling her throb slightly. “Fuck,” grunted Aegon. He let go of Rhaenyra’s leg and guided her to the edge of the bed. She laid down with her legs wide open on the edge of the bedside. Aegon stood against the edge of the bed and placed his cock at her hole, rubbing between its lips back and forth. He wanted to savor every moment, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Aegon slid his cock easily inside of Rhaenyra, and as she moaned softly, he held onto her thighs to pull her closer to him. The prince did not go slow or with ease as he thrusted inside of the Queen, fucking her hard. 

Aegon pushed Rhaenyra further onto the bed and climbed onto it with her, quickly putting his cock back inside of her. He enjoyed laying on top of her while fucking, he loved feeling her body against his own, pressing together as if they were joining as one. Rhaenyra wrapped her legs around Aegon’s back, caressing his face as he stared into her eyes while continuing to fuck her. He breathed heavily as he thrusted hard. 

“Did you miss it?” teased Rhaenyra, holding Aegon’s face tightly. Aegon nodded immediately and eagerly. Aegon then pulled out of Rhaenyra to turn her on her side and he laid behind her. He grabbed his cock to feel for Rhaenyra’s cunt from behind, lifting her leg up as he inserted it inside of her. Aegon wrapped one arm around Rhaenyra’s body, squeezing her breasts to then down rubbing her clit. Rhaenyra arched her back as Aegon fucked her from behind, her hand held over Aegon’s hair. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra’s neck and licked her skin as he thrusted easily and quickly inside her. 

“I want to give you all my sons,” whispered Aegon in Rhaenyra’s ear, “fuck,” Aegon lifted one leg as he thrusted faster, trying to get inside of her deeper. He felt his cock wet and slippery, knowing his wife was enjoying it. Rhaenyra moaned, holding her head back as Aegon lathered her in kisses. “I want to fill that cunt,” groaned Aegon, closing his eyes as he got closer to climaxing. 

“Don’t stop,” moaned Rhaenyra, “oh, Aegon, yes,” she exhaled softly. Aegon grunted with each thrust, breathing heavily, wrapping his arms around Rhaenyra’s torso. 

“Fuck, Rhaenyra,” he panted, “fuck, I’m coming,” Aegon gave one hard thrust, pushing his entire cock inside of Rhaenyra as he came, his body slightly convulsing. Rhaenyra rubbed Aegon’s face and turned to look at him. He opened his eyes, his cock still twitching. Aegon slowly rubbed Rhaenyra’s lower belly as he kissed her on her lips. 

Daeron

Dornish Marches

North of the Red Mountains of Dorne

Night had fallen by the time Prince Daeron reached the Dornish Marches, the cold, alpine land that led to the Red Mountains and into Dorne. The Red Mountains were high in elevation, its stone and rocks a reddish brown in color, hence its name, yet the peaks of some of the highest mountains were capped in snow and ice. Daeron was quickly approaching Nightsong, an octagonal-shaped castle with low, stubby, towers but a large keep at its center. The castle was surrounded by thousands of tents, where the Tyrell army had made camp. 

Daeron watched carefully over Tessarion’s side as he flew overhead, looking down below. There were hundreds of campfires that dotted the landscape, appearing like lantern-flies in the night from his distance up in the sky. Daeron then commanded Tessarion to descend to the outskirts of the camp, trying to avoid being seen. He prayed that the soldiers were all asleep in their tents. 

Daeron landed to the south of the camp, where a winding path led to the Prince’s Pass. The path was lined with steep cliffs, with many twists and turns that disappeared into the darkness of the night, hidden in shadows. His stomach grumbled from hunger as soon as he landed. 

“Good job, Tessarion,” Daeron scratched Tessarion’s chin and jaw, “get some sleep.” Tessarion laid down among a large array of shrubs and bushes, and Daeron began walking north, towards the camp. He pulled his hood back over his braided silvery hair that shone in the moonlight. 

As Daeron descended down a hill he came closer to the edge of the camp. He didn’t see any knights or men standing guard, and it was quiet, except for the occasional crackling fire. His eyes darted between all the tents he walked past, hoping he did not wake anyone. 

“Halt!” boomed a voice, and Daeron was startled. He spun around, seeing a knight approach him on horseback. The knight bore the sigil of House Tyrell on his chest plate and pointed a sword right at Daeron. Daeron immediately pulled off his hood, 

“Wait, wait! I’m Prince Daeron!” he held out his hands nervously. The knight and his horse stopped just a few feet away from him. “Of House Targaryen…” added Daeron with a nervous chuckle. 

Daeron was escorted to the commander’s tent that was located near the gatehouse to the castle of Nightsong. There were two knights standing guard outside the commander’s tent, which was far larger and taller than the others. Daeron stepped inside with the knight that escorted him, seeing a gruff-looking bearded man seated at a table, with a servant woman flirting with him while sitting on his lap. 

“Lord Commander,” the knight cleared his throat, “my apologies.” 

“What is the meaning of this?” asked the lord commander, and the girl jumped up from the man’s lap. The lord commander immediately noticed Daeron’s silver blond hair and stood up. 

“We found Prince Daeron of House Targaryen at the edge of camp.” said the nervous knight. The bearded man stood up and approached Daeron, 

“My prince, it is an honor to meet you,” he bowed his head, “I am Lord Commander Derryn Redwyne, but I must ask, what are you doing here?” 

“I have come to lend my assistance, and my dragon, Lord Commander.” said Daeron confidently. He had a smile on his face, but the Lord Commander was perplexed. 

“Did the Queen send you here?” 

“She did not,” entering the tent, Daeron turned to see his uncle Gwayne. Daeron gulped nervously. 

“Uncle Gwayne…” muttered Daeron. 

“Forgive the intrusion, my lord.” Gwayne stood beside his nephew and looked at the Lord Commander, “But the Prince is mistaken. I thought I heard the flapping of a dragon, and I was correct.” 

“No, I am not.” insisted Daeron, “Prince’s Pass is dangerous, if the Dornish are stationed on the cliff tops… you’ll be massacred.” Redwyne looked at Gwayne with concerned eyes,

“Ser Gwayne, the young Prince is not incorrect.”

“I am a young man grown, I can decide for myself where I wish to give my assistance.” urged Daeron, “I want you all to succeed, I want our Queen to succeed.” Ser Gwayne was somewhat impressed by the determination of his nephew. He would not give up, he was relentless and ambitious. However, he feared putting Daeron in danger, and suffering the consequences of Daeron being injured, from his sister the Dowager Queen.   

“Let me be your guide, your eyes from the sky. At least until you reach Skyreach.” continued Daeron, shifting his gaze between the Lord Commander and his uncle Gwayne. 

“I was informed by raven from King’s Landing,” said Redwyne, “that we would not be receiving any assistance from any dragon-riders. The Queen wishes to conduct the invasion with men on the ground.”

“She did not sanction this,” said Gwayne, “but Daeron is a capable, cunning, young warrior.” Daeron was surprised that Gwayne was finally not attacking him and urging for him to return home. 

“If this means saving lives, then I welcome Prince Daeron’s reconnaissance and guidance through the Prince’s Pass.” said Lord Redwyne. 

“Thank you, Lord Commander, truly, thank you.” Daeron tried to hide his excitement. Redwyne sighed, 

“Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’d like to return to my privacy.” Gwayne bowed his head and he and Daeron exited the tent. 

Standing side by side outside of the lord commander’s tent, Gwayne faced the young prince. 

“So, Skyreach and then back home?” he crossed his arms looking at his nephew. 

“Aye,” nodded Daeron, “as long as the Lord Commander does not ask me to stay. Now, do you have any food because I am starving, uncle.” 

Aemond

The Red Keep

Prince Aemond returned from a short little trip outside of the city, where he checked up on Vhagar. Per usual, Vhagar was sound asleep when he found her lying among a dense brush of foliage near the Kingswood. He brought Vhagar a pair of sheep to feast on, and she quickly devoured them. The middle prince was now making his way back through the Red Keep, and decided to stop by the throne room. 

Aemond walked into the throne room through one of the side corridors. The cavernous hall was empty, it was cold, and not a single torch was lit. Some sunlight poured in from the large window behind the throne, illuminating about half of the room. Aemond walked up to the bottom of the dais, looking up at the Iron Throne. He admired the throne, it was intimidating, a symbol of ultimate power, and he thought about how one day it would belong to Jacaerys. 

Aemond heard soft footsteps entering the throne room, and he turned his head. His sister, Princess Helaena, walked into the room, stopping a few meters away from him. She stared at Aemond, and Aemond looked back up at the throne. 

“I haven’t seen much of you lately.” said Helaena. Aemond did not respond and he remained silent. “Did you find something new to focus on? A new distraction?” she added. Aemond now felt tense. “Or perhaps, did you discover some new morals?” asked the princess. Aemond turned to look at his older sister. “Perhaps not too many morals, since you still burned Sunspear.” he could not believe how assertive his sister was. He had never seen this side of her. 

“Don’t you have to go to Dragonstone soon?” he asked dryly. 

“At this rate, I do not think I’ll ever be going to Dragonstone.” she responded bluntly. Aemond could not tell if Helaena knew something. His stomach began to twist and turn from the uncomfortable situation. “I want to know if now… you’ll truly leave me be.” she said. Aemond looked down, feeling ashamed. He opened his mouth to speak, but he felt his throat choke up slightly. He looked back at Helaena and nodded subtly. 

Before Helaena could say anything else, Lady Baela came into the throne room. 

“There you are, Helaena.” she said with some relief. Baela stood at Helaena’s side, interlocking her arm with Helaena’s, “Everything alright?” she looked at Aemond. The sixteen year old was not as naive as many perceived her to be due to her age, she was observant, and she knew there was always tension between the two Targaryen siblings. 

“Yes, everything is all set, now.” said Helaena, smiling at Baela. 

“Come, come, you still need to show me that sewing technique.” insisted Baela warmly. Helaena walked beside Baela back to the side corridor, leaving the throne room, and leaving Aemond to himself. 

…

Even though Aemond was born and raised in the Red Keep, he always found it to be rather suffocating. Shortly after his encounter with Helaena in the throne room, he decided to venture out into the city again, this time, going to one of King’s Landing’s affluent neighborhoods. Aemond went to River Row, a wide and bustling avenue that ran parallel to the city’s southern wall that bordered the Blackwater Rush. He did not take any royal carriage or any Kingsguard with him, he prided in the fact he could defend himself on his own. 

Aemond walked with a stride in his step through the busy road, looking along the hanging signs of the buildings and shops he passed, looking for the nearest library. He passed by shops of cakes and pastries, tailors and seamstresses, tea shops and the like. The men and women that traversed River Row were dressed fairly decently, unlike the squabbling commoners and peasants in Flea Bottom. As Aemond passed, bystanders stared in awe and shock for seeing a Targaryen prince in their presence. 

Aemond stepped into a small library on River Row, immediately being greeted by the librarian that was seated at the front at a small desk. It was dimly lit, dark, and smelled of dried old paper inside. The wooden floors were rickety and creaking with each step, there were small tables and chairs off to the side for any patrons, however, the library was entirely empty.

“Oh! Prince Aemond, what an absolute honor,” the librarian was an older balding man, wearing long white and gray robes, similar to a maester, and he bowed upon Aemond walking in the door. 

“Direct me to your section on histories.” said Aemond, looking around the main hall of the library. The building was narrow, but ran deep. There were towering shelves, completely compact with books. 

“Yes, yes, absolutely.” the librarian led Aemond through the main section of the library, “May I ask, my prince, what type of history book are you searching for?” 

“Valyria,” he answered bluntly. The librarian eyed Aemond and slowly nodded, 

“Aye… I think we may have something…” the librarian stopped between two shelves and walked between them. His eyes scanned the books as he slowly walked through the aisle, looking at just the shelf on the left. 

“Volantis, Myr, Lys, Qohor, Qarth…” the librarian muttered to himself, “this is our section on Essos,” he said to Aemond, “it is quite extensive on recent history…” Aemond looked from side to side at the books, holding his hands behind his back as he waited patiently. The librarian took one book off the shelf, read the cover, and shoved it back onto the shelf. He then moved onto the next, and the next, and the next. 

“Perhaps there’s nothing left on old Valyria.” noted Aemond. 

“No, here it is! Ahah!” the librarian took a large book off a high shelf. He opened the book, and it made a cracking sound, showing it hadn’t been opened in ages. “Ah, yes, my prince. Take a look.” the librarian held the book flat, showing Aemond the pages he opened to. There were elaborate and colorful drawings of a Valyrian castle. The castle was black in stone, its windows colorful in stained glass, reflecting a rainbow of light onto the ground beneath it. He turned the page, there were maps of ancient cities. 

“I will take it,” said Aemond. He reached into the satchel that hung at his waist, taking out a small sack of gold. 

“Oh, you are too king, my prince.” said the librarian, eyeing the bag of gold that he took from Aemond. Aemond took the book, looking through more of the pages. He saw more maps of cities, some were bird’s eye view, some were detailed. He knew this would do it, and he slid the book carefully into his satchel. 

Jacaerys 

Jacaerys spent his evening in the training courtyard of the Red Keep, practicing his archery skills as the sun continued to disappear into the horizon. The brown haired prince stood with a wooden bow, aiming an arrow at a circular target made of hay in a burlap sack. The target was about eight meters away, near one of the courtyard walls. Jace closed one eye as he carefully aimed for the center of the target. 

Jace released the arrow, and the arrow shot just the edge of the target. He swore under his breath, reaching for another arrow in the basket at his feet. He hadn’t used a bow and arrow in years, he preferred sword-fighting. It didn’t take as much concentration. Jace placed the arrow on his bow and pulled it back with the wire, holding the bow slightly higher than before. 

Aemond entered the courtyard from out of Jace’s line of sight, and watched him silently. Jace took in a deep breath and held his breath, releasing the arrow. The arrow struck the outer ring of the target. He sighed. 

“You shouldn’t hold your breath,” said Aemond, walking up to Jace with a smirk. Jace looked over at Aemond as he approached him. Aemond stood behind Jace, guiding Jace’s hands on the bow again. Aemond gave him another arrow. With Aemond’s hands over Jace’s, he helped Jace raise the bow and aim. “Breathe,” whispered Aemond, close to Jace’s ear. Jace adored feeling the warmth of Aemond’s body up against his, Aemond’s hands on his own. Jace exhaled carefully and then released the arrow. It struck just a few inches away from the bulls-eye.

“Whoa, fucking hell,” he exclaimed excitedly, grinning and turning to look at Aemond. Aemond smiled, and the two stood closely before one another. They looked into each other’s eyes. Aemond glanced down at Jace’s lips. 

“I have something for you,” said Aemond, reaching inside his satchel. He took out the book he purchased from the library, handing it to Jace. 

“What’s this?” asked Jace, taking the book reluctantly. It was large and heavy. He opened it, seeing the colorful drawings of castles, landscapes, and cities. He then saw a colorful drawing of a dragon, it had violet scales, red wings, and white horns. 

“A book on Old Valyria.” answered Aemond, “I know you like your histories. Ironically in the royal library I could not find anything like it.” Jace slowly turned the pages. 

“This is… beautiful…” he said, a smile growing on his face. Aemond watched Jace’s reaction as he kept turning through the pages. “Thank you, Aemond.” he looked up at the silver haired prince. Jace closed the book and leaned up towards Aemond to kiss him, but then stopped himself, realizing they were exposed. Aemond stepped closer to Jace. Jace looked around the courtyard, there were just two knights on an upper rampart that overlooked the courtyard. 

“Come with me,” Aemond said, and Jace followed. Aemond headed for the back of the courtyard that was connected to the stables. They could hear the neighing horses as they got closer, and the wafting smell of manure and mud. 

They were out of sight, underneath a canopy that covered the stables. Jace slid the book back into Aemond’s satchel as they stood close to one another. Aemond grabbed Jace’s waist, pulling him in closely. He leaned down to kiss Jacaerys on his lips, their tongues grazing against each other. 

“Your eyepatch,” whispered Jace, as Aemond still kissed him. Aemond then stopped, 

“What?”

“It was on my bed when my mother came to my room the other morning… she saw it.” he said, his eyebrows beginning to curl in a slight panic. 

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he said, squeezing Jace’s ass and pulling him closer. Their bodies were pressed against one another and Jace held his hands around Aemond’s upper back. “Even if she says anything, we can deny it.” he leaned in for another long, wet, kiss. Jace pushed him slightly to pause the kissing, 

“What if I don’t want to deny it?” he asked in a saddened tone. 

“No.” Aemond said bluntly, “Nobody can know.” 

“Why?” 

“The world would turn on us, everyone and everything.” insisted Aemond. He caressed Jace’s face, brushing back some of his curly brown hair. Aemond’s voice nearly cracked.

“And when I’m King?” Jace shook his head. He scoffed in disbelief as Aemond continued to remain silent. Aemond’s eye began to swell with tears, and he looked away from Jace. Aemond looked up, looking blankly at the dark stables. Jacaerys held Aemond close and rested his head on Aemond’s chest.  

Chapter Text

Lemonwood

Dorne

It was dusk when the Lannister fleet made landfall at the castle of Lemonwood, on the eastern tip of the Dornish peninsula, just roughly fifty kilometers south of Sunspear. Forty Lannister ships formed a semi-circular blockade around the small peninsula that Lemonwood stuck out into the sea on, and quickly began deploying its knights on rowboats. Hundreds of rowboats beached ashore on the southern side of the Lemonwood peninsula. The Lannister troops were fortunate to have cover from some grassy dunes, as the Dornishmen were already on the offensive in response. 

Red and gold armored Lannister knights trekked with their heads low and shields high up the grassy dunes, avoiding arrow-fire from the Dornishmen that held the high ground. The Dornishmen were able to strike down enemy after enemy, aiming for the enemies’ lower bodies. They struck the Lannister men in their knees, shins, and thighs. However, the Lannister troops kept on coming from the sea. 

Lannister men managed to reach the top of the grassy dunes, coming face to face with foot soldiers of the Dornish defense army. The Dornish wielded either long spears or short swords, with some able to strike the Lannister men swiftly and quickly and others driving their spears through the Lannister wooden shields. The Lannister men continued to take losses but more and more knights marched up the dunes from the beach. As the Lannisters pushed onward, pushing back the Dornishmen on the field, they were one step closer to the castle of Lemonwood. 

Lemonwood was an old motte and bailey castle, one of the very few castles in Westeros primarily constructed of wood, rather than just stones and bricks. The main keep of the castle sat on a high hill that overlooked the dunes, it was built of wood and stone, bearing a single cylindrical tower. The single gatehouse into Lemonwood sat at the base of the grassy dunes, its outer wall had a lower foundation of stones, but then its upper half made of logs. Two wooden watchtowers sat adjacent to the gate, and atop the watchtowers were a handful of Dornish archers. 

The Lannisters formed a barricade, with shielded men moving to the front and holding up their shields together. Dornish arrows ricocheted off of the Lannister shields adorned in golden lions. As the Dornish reloaded, the Lannisters opened their shields momentarily to fire their own arrows. The Dornish suffered quick losses, with three archers being struck by Lannister arrows, and falling over the railing of their towers. 

The Lannister army began to hold their ground, creating a wide line of shielded men around the front wall of Lemonwood. They waited, as coming up from the dunes, knights carried ladders. The Dornishmen retreated further into the interior of Lemonwood. 

Aemond

The Red Keep

Aemond held his body close to the exterior wall of Maegor’s Holdfast as he climbed along a ledge just about a foot in width. The cool winds tugged at his long hair as he shifted carefully. He passed by a window, stepping into the sill to peek inside, it wasn’t the room he was looking for. Aemond then continued along the sill, occasionally looking down below. About a hundred feet below was a moat and a small courtyard, he had no intention of getting a better look of the ground below while being so high up. Aemond then reached the next set of three windows, pushing one of them open and jumping inside. 

Aemond landed inside of Jacaerys’ bedroom, much to his utter shock as he sat on his bed, reading. Aemond smirked and shut the window behind him. 

“So we’ve just given up on doors?” jested Jace, closing the book. He sat cross-legged on the center of his bed and Aemond hopped onto his bed to join him. He leaned forward, kissing Jace on his lips. 

“This was more exhilarating.” said Aemond, “I don’t have to see anyone else on my way here.” he said, continuing to kiss Jace. Jace nodded in understanding, his smile faded, and he appeared saddened. Aemond sat up straight and looked into Jace’s eyes. “What is wrong, should I have come through the door?” 

“No, no, it’s not that.” shrugged Jace, “Well, yes, do not do that again, that terrifies me.” he said shaking his head, “But my mother… she is sending me to Riverrun.” 

“For what?” blurted Aemond. 

“To treat with the new Lord of the Riverlands, Oscar Tully. He is young, younger than me, and just inherited the castle and province from the death of his grandfather.” explained Jacaerys. He rubbed his own face from exhaustion. 

“Then let me come with you,” said Aemond simply, “for additional security and protection.” Jace shook his head in disbelief. 

“My mother won’t buy that.” 

“Then I’ll say I’m going with you to search for an eligible bride.” Aemond said, trying to convince Jacaerys. Jace leaned back on his hands on his bed, biting his lip, 

“You want to find a bride?” Aemond’s eye was wide and his face serious, 

“Of course not, but to fool your mother.” he then realized that Jace had a playful look on his face. Aemond leaned forward, slowly crawling over Jace. Aemond grazed his lips across Jace’s lips, their noses just barely touching. Aemond held his lips over Jace’s, looking down at him. Jace lowered further back, and Aemond crawled forward more so. The silver haired prince laid on top of Jace, and Jace rested his head on his pillows. 

“You’re not fooling anybody like this,” whispered Jace sarcastically. Aemond smiled, lowering his lips onto Jace to get him to stop talking. He kissed the brown haired prince, softly and gently. Aemond loved feeling Jace’s wet lips against his own, giving him individual kisses, with each break, admiring Jace’s features. 

“I’m coming with you to Riverrun,” said Aemond quietly, “whether your mother wishes it or not.” 

Rhaenyra & Aegon

The Queen and Prince Consort sat together at the end of their dining table as they were served breakfast that morning. The two decided to sit side by side on the longer side of the table, rather than the Queen being at the head of the table. Rhaenyra was already fully dressed and ready to commence her day, wearing a fitted black and red gown, her hair braided elaborately into a long, single, braid that rested down her back. Aegon, however, had just woken up and was still half asleep. 

The handmaidens brought out breakfast for the royal couple, serving hot tea, a platter of grilled mutton slices, a boiled egg on each plate, freshly sliced apples and pears, and a small bowl of mixed nuts. 

“I decided to send Jace to Riverrun,” said Rhaenyra as she cut into the meat on her plate. Aegon was fully engulfed in his meal, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He mumbled, 

“Oh?” 

“Grover Tully is dead, and his grandson Oscar is now Lord.” explained the Queen, “Oscar is Luke’s age, I think he and Jace will get along just fine. It will do well to strengthen our relationship with the Riverlands.” 

“I think that is a smart idea, my love,” Aegon said, after swallowing a large bite of meat. He looked at Rhaenyra, “but are you sending him with Vermithor?” 

“I expect Jace to take his dragon, yes.” nodded Rhaenyra. 

“What if a situation arises that we need him, and Vermithor?” suggested Aegon. 

“We have Aemond and Vhagar, as well as three other dragons.” Rhaenyra said simply. She saw no potential crisis arising that she would need Jace and Vermithor to jump into action. She wasn’t so eager to send her eldest son into the middle of danger. “Besides,” continued the Queen, “the war is nearly a thousand miles away.” Aegon nodded in agreement, he had no issue with his wife’s decision. He continued to eat. 

Rhaenyra took a sip of her tea, taking a short pause from eating. 

“Have you noticed anything different about Aemond?” she asked. Aegon wiped his hands on a cloth to clean them, and then he wiped the corners of his mouth. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, “Aemond’s always been a brute, cold, and only seeks battle and glory.” Rhaenyra slowly nodded, and she continued to eat. 

“I have rarely seen him attend court, do the ladies find him popular?” she asked curiously. 

“The hell if I know,” shrugged Aegon, “he used to frequent a brothel just outside the Great Sept for years… all up until you moved from Dragonstone, actually.” 

“I see,” said the Queen quietly. “Do you think Jace and Helaena will make a good couple?”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” said Aegon bluntly, “what matters is there is a King and Queen after us. For the Realm’s stability.” 

“I do not think Jace wants to marry,” 

“Helaena?”

“At all.” clarified Rhaenyra. 

“I didn’t want to marry at first,” Aegon looked at his wife, “but then I came around to it.” he smiled. Rhaenyra was nervous about her son and his intentions. 

“I saw his eyepatch in Jace’s room.” she said bluntly. Aegon furrowed his brow as he looked at Rhaenyra. 

“Aemond’s?” 

“Yes.” she responded quickly. 

“Perhaps they were just drinking together late one night.” he said, waving his hand in disbelief, “He’s a strange boy, my brother.” Rhaenyra was not amused and stared at her husband. Her eyes showed concern, and he realized now what she was trying to convey. “It can’t be.” muttered Aegon, chuckling nervously. “Soon Jace will move to Dragonstone, as customary for the heir, and Aemond will be married off as well to some lady from the heartland.” Rhaenyra nodded. She started to reminisce about her agreement with her first husband, Laenor. Laenor was interested sexually in men, and Rhaenyra allowed him to engage in whatever kind of pleasure he desired, as long as it was kept hidden and did not put their marriage in peril. After all, she was allowed to do the same, finding comfort in Ser Harwin Strong for many years. She began to wonder if Jacaerys had similar desires… 

Helaena

The Royal Godswood

Princess Helaena liked spending her afternoons in the Royal Godswood, writing in her journal, sitting right beneath the large weirwood tree. She had just enough shade from the sparse branches and red leaves above her head. However, autumn was approaching, and the winds were cooler more often than hot. She kept her feet out in the sun to keep them warm. 

Helaena wrote with a quill and had a small jar of ink beside her on a flat rock. She went to dip her quill in the jar of ink, but the quill slipped out of her hands and stumbled across a few of the weirwood’s roots that protruded from the ground. Helaena reached for the quill, and her fingers grazed against the smooth, gray-white bark of the weirwood roots. She immediately sat up and stared forward blankly, feeling a whirring feeling in her head. Her head pounded heavily internally, as if she were having a severe migraine. Her hand still rested on the weirwood root. As she stared forward, her vision began to tunnel. She could no longer see the colonnade of stone arches and columns on her right, or the reddish brown stone wall to her left. It became foggy, and all she could see was the winding dirt path before her and the short green grass. 

Helaena did not move, nor could she if she wanted to. As she stared forward, even the path before her faded into a blur. Her vision was completely gone, all she could see was a thick gray fog of what looked like smudges and blurs. She could hear a faint echo of a dragon beating its wings. The beats were slow and seemed heavy. Vhagar , she thought of, recognizing the elder dragon’s sound of flight. Helaena’s head veered upward and she looked up. She saw the blueness of the sky. She felt her body rising up through the sky, traveling. Suddenly, she was immersed in the clouds, and that was all she could see around her body. 

The sound of Vhagar grew immensely as she heard the old dragon’s raspy roar. She turned, seeing Vhagar flying in the sky, just straight ahead, as if she were floating beside the dragon. Riding on Vhagar were Aemond and Jacaerys. Jacaerys held onto Aemond tightly, his arms wrapped around his waist, and leaning his head against Aemond’s back. Helaena watched intently. Aemond looked over his shoulder, and then faced forward. Her younger brother reached one arm back to his side, caressing Jace’s knee and thigh. Helaena gasped. 

Suddenly, she was engulfed in thick gray clouds, and could no longer see Vhagar, or her brother with Jacaerys. The clouds became darker and darker until she was in a black void. 

“ We can’t.” she heard Jacaerys’ voice echoing faintly. 

“ We can.” she heard Aemond. 

Helaena found herself blinking her eyes rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight around her. She held out her hand to shade her eyes. She looked around, realizing she had snapped out of whatever dream-state she was in. She looked down at her quill, it was in her hand, where she gripped it forcibly. She looked up at the branches of the weirwood tree, listening to the rustling of the bright red leaves in the wind. Never had she experienced a dream so vivid during the day. Her chest was hot and her heart was racing. She rubbed her chest, trying to calm herself down. 

“Helaena,” Helaena looked to her right and saw Prince Jacaerys walking up the small hill to her. He had a small smile on his face, 

“Jacaerys,” she said softly, “I was just thinking of you.” she said. Helaena closed her journal and Jacaerys stood a few feet in front of her. 

“Oh? Well, likewise. I wanted to tell you that I’m being sent to Riverrun.” he said with some disappointment. 

“Oh, you don’t seem too happy.” she said with a nervous chuckle. 

“I… I’d rather do something about the war effort.” Jace said with a nod, rubbing the back of his neck. He rested his other hand on the hilt of his sword on his belt, “I’ll be treating with Lord Oscar Tully.” 

“Will Aemond be joining you?” she asked bluntly. Jace’s face began to turn pale. He suddenly felt worried, wondering if Aemond had said anything to her, or anyone for that matter. 

“I haven’t heard anything about that…” answered Jacaerys, clearing his throat, “Aemond is free to do whatever he pleases.” Helaena stood up and walked down the hill to stand face to face with Jacaerys. She tilted her head slightly and looked into his eyes. 

“Just breathe, Jacaerys.” she said in a whisper. 

“I was thinking,” Jacaerys continued, “that perhaps we will wait with our wedding. Until the war is over.” 

“That is alright with me.” she said sweetly, “Besides, I am in no rush to have children.” she chuckled, trying to ease the tension that Jace was feeling. The brown haired prince smiled and nodded. “Be mindful of Aemond,” she warned. 

“I know he can be wild and unpredictable,” said Jace quietly. 

“And dangerous,” she said with a straight face. Helaena pulled in Jace abruptly to hug him. She rested her chin on his shoulder, holding him closely. 

“You are a smart young man, remember that. I care about you deeply.” said the princess. 

The Small Council

  Prince Jacaerys was the last to arrive at the Small Council meeting, apologizing quietly to his mother as he stood behind her at the head of the table. The Queen was just glad to see her son attending, and then turned her focus to the members at the table. Present were Prince Aegon, Queen Alicent, Lords Wylde, Lannister, Beesbury, and Grand Maester Orwyle. 

“We may begin,” addressed the Queen, she looked to the golden haired Lannister near the other end of the table, “Lord Tyland, you may begin with your report.” 

“Thank you, your grace,” Tyland Lannister held his hands together and spoke clearly, “we’ve received word from the Lannister army that made landfall at Lemonwood, that the castle is now under the control of our forces, in the name of her grace, the Queen. Lord Vyler Dalt, the ruling lord of the castle, was imprisoned. As of late, he refuses to bend the knee.” explained Tyland. He looked at Queen Rhaenyra, “Our Lord Commander of that division awaits orders on whether or not to execute Lord Dalt.” 

“No, to the execution.” said Rhaenyra confidently, “It is imperative we find Qoren Martell first, before we begin executing lords of Dorne.” 

“Your grace, if I may,” Lord Jasper Wylde spoke up, “I think it would be intuitive to execute those who do not bend the knee, after all, we are at war.”

“I agree with Lord Jasper,” jumped in Lord Lyman Beesbury, the eldest on the council, “we must set an example to those who continue to evade your authority, your grace.” 

“I hear you all,” Rhaenyra said, briefly looking down at her hands that she held together anxiously, and started to raise her voice, “but if we begin executing and destroying every House in Dorne, there will be no one left to rule the province in my name.” 

“Surely, we will make a decision once Qoren Martell is captured.” said Aegon, “If Qoren Martell bends the knee, the others will fall in line.” 

“Your grace, forgive me if I am mistaken,” Jasper Wylde continued, “but I thought the plan was to execute Qoren Martell, regardless of what he says upon capture.” Rhaenyra glared at Jasper with annoyance. 

“You are mistaken,” clarified Rhaenyra, “we will capture Qoren Martell, we will capture the other lords refusing to bend the knee, and we will execute Qoren Martell in front of the captured Dornish lords. I will give them a chance at redemption.” 

“Understood, my Queen.” Jasper said, surrendering. 

“Are there any other updates on the war front?” asked Rhaenyra. The others did not speak and remained quiet. “Alright then, secondly, Prince Jacaerys will be going to Riverrun to treat with the new lord, Oscar Tully. We will reaffirm the support from the Riverlands.” 

“I heard rumors that the Iron Islands have been resistant to supporting young Oscar so quickly,” said Lord Tyland. 

“The Iron Islands would be wise to keep their mouths shut at the moment,” scoffed Aegon, leaning back in his chair. 

“Prince Jacaerys can look into these rumors,” said Rhaenyra, looking back at her son. Jace nodded in agreement, “And lastly, I’ve decided that once Prince Jacaerys returns from the Riverlands, we will immediately begin the wedding preparations for his marriage to Princess Helaena.” Jacaerys’ heart sank to the pit of his stomach and he looked at his mother. She was still focused on the members at the table and wasn’t looking back at him. Jacaerys quickly walked to the door, leaving the chamber, much to everyone’s surprise. Rhaenyra watched with wide eyes as her son stormed out, and she looked at Aegon nervously. Aegon nodded to her and Rhaenyra got up from her chair and rushed to the door, holding her dress up to avoid tripping. 

“Jace!” called Rhaenyra, following her eldest son down the long corridor, “Jace!” she called again. Jace reached an open air hallway and felt the cool wind pushing into the corridor. “Jacaerys!” called the Queen one last time, and Jace stopped. It was rare for her to call him by his full first name. He stopped just a few feet away from the stairwell, and waited, facing away from his mother. 

“What is wrong?” asked Rhaenyra, approaching her son. She took his arm and turned him around, only to be surprised to see tears in his eyes. She immediately felt a pain in her chest, as if she just committed a crime… but she had no idea what exactly. 

“I told you I wanted to wait with the wedding and the whole marriage,” he said angrily but in a low voice, “you were supportive of me. And then… then you just turned around and walked all over my wishes.” 

“This is all political, my sweet boy,” said Rhaenyra in a soothing voice. Jace inhaled deeply, wiping away some of the tears on his face. He couldn’t believe how emotional he was feeling, revealing so much to his mother. “It is to keep men, like the ones in that very room,” she pointed down the hall to the Small Council room, “quiet and content.”

“And why does their contentment matter and not my own?” he said sternly. 

“Jacaerys, help me help you.” insisted Rhaenyra with worried eyes, “Why are you so resistant to this? You know this is how the world works, this is how the Crown works. A marriage is a front. It is a political system meant to keep the kingdoms together.”

“Oh I know very well the facade of marriage.” scoffed Jacaerys. Rhaenyra felt hurt by those words, it felt personal. “I do not care anymore, I don’t. I’ll do whatever you say.” he took a deep breath and looked at his mother directly. “Choice… that’s an illusion. I’ve learned that now. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my trip, mother.” Jacaerys walked down the stairs, leaving his mother before she could say anything. Rhaenyra watched sadly as Jacaerys did not look back at her. 

Aemond

Aemond was ready to leave for the Riverlands, he had packed a few clothes and put them neatly in his shoulder bag. The silver haired prince walked with the bag over his shoulder towards Jacaerys’ room. As Aemond approached the residential wing of Maegor’s Holdfast, he heard some footsteps down the other end of the hall. He quickly made for Jace’s bedroom door. Upon touching the door handle, he saw Aegon down the other end of the hall. Aegon and Aemond looked at one another briefly, but Aemond went inside Jace’s room. 

Aemond found Jacaerys looming over the side of his bed, putting clothes into a bag as well. He held his head low, and didn’t even turn to greet Aemond. 

“Are you ready?” asked Aemond with just a hint of excitement, but he could sense something was off with Jace. Jace faced the wall as he stuffed his bag with a pair of trousers and some shirts. Aemond let his bag slide off his shoulder onto the floor, and he stepped up behind Jace. Aemond wrapped his arms underneath Jace’s arms, his hands rubbing Jace’s chest and torso. Aemond lowered his lips to Jace’s ear, kissing him, and then down the back of his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Aemond quietly. Jace stopped packing and put one hand over Aemond’s, and caressed it. 

“My damned mother,” he responded, “The wedding is on for when I return.” Aemond inhaled deeply, smelling Jace’s sweet scent of lavender from his recent bath. 

“Do not worry,” 

“That’s easy for you to say.” snapped Jace. He turned his head, seeing Aemond. Aemond looked into Jace’s eyes, 

“I’m not going anywhere.” said Aemond, “Married or not. Betrothed or not. King or not.” 

Jace turned around fully to face Aemond, still in the taller prince’s arms. Aemond’s hands moved down to Jace’s ass, and Aemond gently rubbed him. Jace leaned upward to kiss Aemond, holding his lips tightly against Aemond’s lips. Jace wrapped his hands around Aemond’s back and the two were in a tight embrace. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” whispered Aemond, moving his kisses down Jace’s jawline and down his neck. Jace leaned his head back and smiled with relief as Aemond kissed him. He started to unbutton Jace’s shirt, and Jace started to unzip Aemond’s green coat. Within moments Jacaerys’ shirt was on the floor and Aemond was shirtless as well, and the two took off their pants. 

Jacaerys rubbed his hands across Aemond’s rigid chest, glancing down at them in admiration and lust. He slid his hands down Aemond’s underwear, pushing them off to gently rub his cock. Aemond gasped lightly, holding his lips over Jace’s lips as he was being jerked slowly. Aemond held his hand with firmness around the back of Jace’s neck, kissing him and groaning softly as Jace continued to jerk his hardening cock. 

“I need to fuck you,” whispered Aemond. 

“I know,” said Jace with a smirk. Jace got down on his knees and placed Aemond’s cock on his lips. Jace fondled his balls, and licked from the base of Aemond’s cock to the tip. He then licked around the head of Aemond’s cock before slowly putting it in his mouth, lubricating him. Aemond put his hand on Jace’s head, holding his hair tightly as Jace started to suck him. The silver haired prince leaned his head back, his mouth wide open from pleasure as Jace continued to suck his cock slow and hard. Jace began to stroke his own cock with his other free hand, throbbing hard. 

Aemond looked down and made Jace stop, lifting him up to stand up again. Aemond then lifted up Jace’s right leg, having him rest it on the edge of the bed. Aemond spit into his hand, reaching underneath Jace’s balls, and gently fingered around the edge of Jace’s tight hole. Jace held onto the back of Aemond’s neck and continued to stroke Aemond’s cock with his hand as he was being fingered. Aemond wasn’t as patient this time, and slid two fingers inside of Jace, causing him to moan softly in a whisper. Aemond bit Jace’s lower lip as he held his mouth wide open, holding back from moaning any louder. 

“Are you ready for me?” asked Aemond in a raspy voice. Jace nodded his head, 

“Yes,” he said. Aemond then took his own cock and pulled Jace closer. He angled himself slightly below Jace, his cock poking right at the entrance of Jace’s hole. Aemond guided his cock slowly inside of Jace. Jace was still tight, but Aemond pushed with more pressure. His cock squeezed into Jace’s hole just a few inches and Jace moaned. 

“You want all of it?” whispered Aemond, kissing Jace’s neck and biting his earlobe. 

“Yes, yes, Aemond.” panted Jace, trying to take deep breaths to relax. He felt intense pressure in his pelvis as Aemond slowly pushed in deeper. Aemond slid his entire cock inside of Jace and remained still for a moment. Aemond watched Jace’s reaction, and let him catch his breath. 

“You’re getting better,” whispered Aemond, kissing Jace, and Jace nodded silently. Aemond slowly thrusted in and out of Jace’s wet hole, holding one hand around his lower back, and the other keeping his thigh up high enough. Jace’s cock grinded against Aemond’s abs, spreading precum across his lower torso. 

“You’re so fucking big,” exclaimed Jace in a moan, and he immediately covered his mouth, realizing how loud he was. Aemond smirked and started to thrust a bit faster with more rhythm. Jace pulled in Aemond’s face and kissed him passionately. The two felt each other’s tongues as they kissed and made their lips wetter. Jace released his lips from Aemond’s to let out a groan, and Aemond began to lick down Jace’s neck and kiss his throat. Aemond grunted as he continued to fuck Jace, moving faster. His dick slid in and out far easier now as Jace had finally loosened. 

“I’m going to cum, I’m close,” exhaled Jace, looking down at his own cock. It continued to grind against Aemond’s thrusting body. 

“Cum for me,” said Aemond. 

“Keep going, harder,” panted Jace desperately, “Oh fuck, Aemond,” he gasped as his cock exploded a load onto Aemond’s chest. Aemond smiled with pride and fucked Jace harder, 

“That’s my boy,” said Aemond. He grabbed Jace’s ass cheek with one hand, squeezing it hard as he fucked him. “Fuck, I’m close now.” 

“Oh yes,” Jace closed his eyes as he breathed slower. He caressed Aemond’s face and then looked deeply into his single eye. “Cum in me,” he whispered. Aemond held his mouth close to Jace’s, their noses poking one another, their hot breath on their faces, and their foreheads touching. 

“Oh fuck yes,” groaned Aemond, he thrusted hard inside of Jace and he whimpered slightly, cumming inside of his hole, “Goddamn, fuck,” Aemond breathed heavily, nearly collapsing forward, but held Jace close to stay balanced. Jace smiled and rubbed Aemond’s back. Aemond kissed Jace gently on his lips, caressing his cheek with his thumb as he held Jace’s face. 

...

The two princes left shortly after their intimate time together, leaving before dinner could even be called by the family. Jacaerys quickly made his way to the Dragonpit to get Vermithor, and Aemond to the outskirts of the city to wake Vhagar. And soon enough, the Bronze Fury took to the skies over King’s Landing. Vermithor bellowed loudly as he climbed the sky over the cityscape. He prompted the stares of thousands in the streets below, shocked to see yet another massive dragon that hadn’t been seen in decades. 

As Jacaerys and Vermithor reached the city’s edge, they joined Aemond and Vhagar. The green elder dragon circled near the northern city gate, waiting for Jacaerys. Jacaerys was still getting accustomed to the far slower speed of Vermithor compared to Vermax, but felt even more powerful riding the second largest dragon in the world. He smiled upon seeing Aemond, and Aemond looked to him as well. Aemond had a proud look on his face, and the two lumbering dragons flew side by side as they headed northwest, to the Riverlands. 

Daeron

The Prince’s Pass

Dorne

Dusk was quickly approaching as the Tyrell army began its trek into the Prince’s Pass. The Prince’s Pass was one of two known, safe, passageways through the high Red Mountains that encapsulated Dorne. The Red Mountains were a natural protective barrier for the Dornish, it protected them for centuries and centuries of war against the Kings of the Reach and the Kings of the Stormlands throughout the ages. However, after nearly a century of peace, war had struck Dorne once again. 

The Tyrell host totaled approximately thirty thousand soldiers, knights, and squires. However, not the entire army would traverse through the Pass at once. A legion of five thousand, led by Lord Commander Redwyne and Ser Gwayne Hightower, were the first to enter through the mountains. Up above in the sky flew Prince Daeron on his mount, Tessarion, the blue queen. Daeron had a clear view of the Pass below him and up ahead. The Pass started out as a wide canyon with low cliffs along its sides that went straight forward through the mountains. However, as the miles progressed, the canyon narrowed, the cliffs became steeper, the soldiers had to walk in narrower lines, and the path turned and twisted among the rock formations. 

Daeron kept rather close to the legion, flying no more than a mile ahead to scout for any potential threats. He often circled back to ensure they were also not being followed from the cliff sides and mountain ranges. Even though the Prince’s Pass was the most notable passageway through the Red Mountains, the Dornish were far more familiar with their lands that they likely had over a dozen other ways to traverse the mountains. 

Daeron continued forward, flying above the cliff faces of reddish gray stones. The air was cold and brisk as they continued to ascend in elevation. He wasn’t used to such cold temperatures, after all, he was basically raised in Oldtown where it always felt like summer, or at least, springtime. 

Daeron spotted movement among some foliage on the clifftop to his left. As planned, he took out a long yellow rag from his belt and began waving it to the knights below. It was the warning signal for a potential attack. Daeron looked over his shoulders. The front of the Tyrell army began to raise its shields, and then appeared a wave of shields that rose upward. Daeron looked back to the cliff top, but no longer saw any movement. He commanded Tessarion to descend lower, and his dragon obeyed. 

The cliff top was narrow and the ground seemed unstable for walking. There were some falling rocks, and Daeron immediately spotted two Dornishmen. They wore dark brown and gray cuirasses, blending in nearly seamlessly into the dry, scrubland environment. Tessarion roared at the fleeing Dornish scouts, and Daeron felt the urge to chase them down. Suddenly, yelling and shouts abrupt from behind. Daeron turned Tessarion around, flying back towards the army. 

As Daeron flew parallel above the narrow canyon, he could see the Tyrell men were under attack. Among the cliff rockfaces were caves, high above the ground level. Dornish archers were attacking from the caves. Within moments of descending closer to the canyon, the Dornish archers triggered a pair of rockslides. Boulders and rocks tumbled from the caves, falling down into the pass and crushing numerous knights. 

“Dive, Tessarion!” commanded Daeron urgently. Tessarion flew within the canyon, below the top of the cliffs, and nearly level to the series of caves and grottos the archers emerged from. 

“Dracarys!” ordered the prince. As Tessarion flew along the canyon wall, she blasted a stream of flames across the cliff rockface. The flames burst into the caves, scorching the suddenly fleeing Dornishmen. Daeron looked over his shoulder, he saw burning bodies flailing from the caves and falling below into the canyon, landing amongst the Tyrell men. As Tessarion climbed back up into the sky, the Tyrell army continued moving onward, and were able to pick off the remaining Dornishmen with their own archers. 

The cliff tops widened to a plateau, and Daeron swore under his breath upon seeing a squad of over thirty Dornishmen with horses and carts. He focused on the opened carts, seeing they were carrying large barrels with liquid. The liquid bubbled and steamed as the Dornishmen led their horses to the cliff’s edge. 

“Boiling oil…” muttered Daeron, realizing what the Dornish had planned. Daeron forced Tessarion to turn back sharply, but the first cart of four barrels was dumped down into the canyon. The boiling oil smoked as it cascaded down the rocks and fell onto a handful of Tyrell men. Screams filled the air as Daeron’s own men were burned, many of them falling to the ground in excruciating pain. Tessarion dove, coming upon two carts of more barrels of boiling oil. 

“Dracarys, Tessarion!” shouted Daeron. Tessarion blasted straight through the two carts, engulfing the horses and over a dozen Dornishmen in the flames. The oil burst into small explosions upon being ignited. 

Daeron looked over his shoulder, and to much relief, the remaining dozen or so Dornishmen were fleeing back to the cover of trees and foliage at the foot of the steep mountains. Daeron flew back over the canyon and pulled out a green cloth, waving it to the army as he flew low overhead. The Tyrell army marched onward. 

The Tyrell army reached the halfway point through the Prince’s Pass, where the passageway widened into an open grotto surrounded by cliffs and the Red Mountains. The legion decided to stop and take a break for just a moment, and to check the wounded. 

Ser Gwayne Hightower handed his nephew a canister of water and Daeron chugged the water desperately. 

“You did well, my prince.” said Gwayne, standing beside his nephew. Daeron had landed Tessarion, standing still near his dragon with his uncle. However, the other knights and squires kept their distance. Daeron looked around. There was a group of burned knights. They took off some of their armor, their gauntlets and helmets, revealing severe red and black burns on their faces and arms. Daeron looked at his uncle, realizing he had a burn mark across his cheekbone. 

“Are you alright?” asked Daeron worriedly. Gwayne touched his wound lightly, 

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” Daeron looked back at the wounded knights, far more were arriving. They were at the end of the host, as they were now the slowest in the legion. “They’ll be fine, too.” Gwayne patted Daeron’s shoulder.

“I feel like I should have spotted them sooner,” said Daeron disappointedly, “if only I flew lower, perhaps -”

“Think of what would have happened if you weren’t here in the first place.” Gwayne spoke sternly, and Daeron looked at him, still with worried eyes. “We would have suffered far, far more losses. This is a dangerous place we are traveling through.” Daeron was beginning to feel like he was far in over his head with this war. Perhaps his overconfidence was plain arrogance. He felt to blame for the losses they already suffered. He was the dragon rider, he had to protect the army. 

“Look at me,” Gwayne stood in front of his nephew, “you did well.” he repeated. “Understand me?” Daeron nodded silently. Before Gwayne could say anything else, a horn blared from further down the Pass canyon. Daeron’s stomach lurched. It meant danger, and more enemies. He handed the water canister to Gwayne and quickly climbed onto Tessarion’s back. 

“Be mindful and watch yourself, Daeron.” said Gwayne as he stepped back from the dragon preparing to take off. 

“I will, uncle. Stay safe.” he said. Tessarion took a few steps, running to speed and took off, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand. Daeron held onto the saddle handles tightly, keeping his body low onto the saddle, leaning forward. He feared for more Dornish archers on the cliff walls that could strike him as he took off. Tessarion let out a series of chittering roars as she ascended. Daeron could sense she was feeling on edge, jittery, and also anxious. 

Tessarion flew above the cliffs, clipping the cliff edges as she flew upward, and there was yet another plateau. Coming from dark crevasses and narrow passageways in the nearby mountains were an endless stream of Dornish soldiers and knights. Daeron’s heart began to race. There were well over two hundred Dornishmen, and over thirty carts with what had to be more boiling oil. The Dornish host slowly marched across the rocky landscape to the cliff’s edge, right to the canyon where the Tyrell army was still making its way. 

“Come on girl, we have to do something.” Daeron said to Tessarion, even though it was more of a reassurance for himself. 

“Dragons!” bellowed a Dornishman as Tessarion glided downward. Daeron smirked, 

“Damn right a dragon,” he said to himself. The Dornishmen started to scatter, but many also turned around, facing away from Daeron. He first thought they were fleeing from him, but the men were starting to run in all random directions. Daeron looked across the sky. Gliding down from one of the peaks of the Red Mountains was a large red dragon. 

“Oh fuck, a dragon…” muttered Daeron, he began to laugh in disbelief, “Meleys!” 

Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys quickly dove down onto the plateau, unleashing a long blast of dragonflame onto the Dornish host. Meleys scorched through dozens upon dozens of fleeing men, destroying five carts in the process, and then climbed back up into the sky. Daeron felt relieved he had assistance and relieved. Tessarion swung to the right and dipped, making back towards the cliff’s edge where Dornish archers were preparing to attack the Tyrell army. 

Daeron leaned forward, 

“Faster, Tessarion!” he urged. Tessarion came upon the cliff’s edge, blasting fire on the archers before they could even get their arrows out of their quivers. Fire lit the rocky cliff’s edge, illuminating the ever darkening landscape from the setting sun. Rhaenys and Meleys made another strafing run, burning over fifty Dornishmen. Daeron watched in amazement as the far larger Meleys, perhaps three times larger than Tessarion, took out far many more enemies in one single blast of fire. Meleys blasted a wall of fire along the cliff’s edge as well, joining Tessarion, blocking off the Dornishmen from being able to attack the Tyrell army in the canyon below. 

To Daeron’s relief, the remaining Dornishmen were retreating into the mountain caves and crevasses. He laid down forward on Tessarion’s saddle, resting, and catching his breath. 

“Thank the Gods…” 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

Rhaenyra retired to her residence in the Red Keep quickly after dinner, after learning her son left for the Riverlands without saying goodbye to her. She knew Jace would return in about four days, but she did not like that their last interaction was an argument. However, Rhaenyra was not alone in her living quarters, as the Grand Maester was attending to her. Rhaenyra sat with her feet up on the small tea table as she sat on her couch, facing the opened balcony doors. The night sky was littered with bright stars and a crisp cold air filled the room. 

“It is surely early, your grace,” Grand Maester Orwyle wiped his hands after washing them at a nearby bowl of water, “but the test is positive. We can of course conduct a re–examination in a few weeks.” Rhaenyra looked up at Orwyle as he walked over to her. The Grand Maester had checked her urine for a special check-in. She held her hand over her belly and shook her head, 

“No, it is alright.” 

“But it is in fact, you are with child, my Queen.” he said. Rhaenyra nodded and smiled nervously, 

“It is strange, Orwyle,” she scoffed lightly, “with the other three, I always had sickness throughout the day. Joffrey in particular, I always felt nauseous before I went to bed.” part of her almost wanted to debunk the fact she was pregnant. She did not feel nauseous at all. 

“All pregnancies are different, your grace. Perhaps the Gods are being kinder to you this time around.” he said kindly. Rhaenyra took in a deep breath and nodded, 

“Thank you, Grand Maester.” she said. 

“I bid you goodnight, your grace.”

“As to you, goodnight.” she responded, and listened to Orwyle leave, shut the door, and his footsteps got quieter and quieter as he proceeded down the hall. Rhaenyra’s breath was shaky and her eyes began to swell with tears. She would have to tell Aegon at some point. Her consort was off drinking with his friends, somewhere else down in the Red Keep. She wanted him to have time for himself, it also gave her time for herself. 

Rhaenyra began to think of her father, this was what he probably wanted all along. She remembers him asking her if she was spending time with Aegon, as soon as she had arrived from Dragonstone. Now, she couldn’t believe it, she spent much of her time with Aegon. She spent more time with Aegon in the last few months than in the last twenty years of his life. 

Rhaenyra missed her father. She missed Luke, and she missed Jacaerys. Her room was all but silent as she quietly wept into her hand. She did not know whether or not to be saddened by this revelation or excited. 

Chapter Text

Skyreach

Dorne

A few days passed until the Tyrell host reached the castle of Skyreach near the end of the Prince’s Pass among the Red Mountains. The home to House Fowler, Skyreach was an ancient castle, situated on a steep slope and stepped region of the Red Mountains. The castle would have been unclaimable and impenetrable by just men on foot, but luckily, the Tyrell host was led by two dragons; Meleys and Tessarion. 

Princess Rhaenys and Prince Daeron did not commit much damage to the castle. Skyreach had a wide front wall that faced the lower canyon area of the Prince’s Pass, protected by a deep moat, and connected to the pass by a single stone bridge. Tessarion made a few strafing runs along the outer wall of the castle complex, burning away the Dornish archers, scouts, and knights on guard. The castle was severely undefended. With the wall cleared away, Rhaenys landed Meleys on the stoney bridge in front of the wooden castle gate, blowing a hole right through it with her flames. Within minutes, the Tyrell army marched inside. 

There was a hexagonal courtyard through the first gate, with a series of stables and a small wooden roofed servant’s house. At the end of the courtyard, hugging the mountainside was the keep itself. It was a wide rectangular building with battlements across its flat roof, two cylindrical towers at its front corners, and a taller, wider, tower at its center against the mountain wall. The castle fell by that afternoon. 

Princess Rhaenys, Prince Daeron, Lord Commander Redwyne, and Ser Gwayne Hightower stood around a large wooden table within the great hall of Skyreach, with a map unfolded on the table. The map only depicted Dorne, with small red pins depicting Nightsong, Skyreach, and then gold pins showing other castles and towns across Dorne. Sunspear and Lemonwood on the other far end of the peninsula were marked with red pins, since they were now under Targaryen control. 

As the leaders discussed their next strategies, the Tyrell army were scouring the keep to find any remaining Dornishmen, servants of House Fowler, and bringing them to the dungeons. 

“We are most fortunate for your assistance, Princess.” said Lord Derryn Redwyne, who served as the military commander of the Tyrell army, “Were you a surprise asset like the Prince here, or did the Queen send you?” Rhaenys and Daeron stood side by side, and she glanced down at her great nephew with a little smile. 

“No, I was not sent by the Queen,” she said, resting her hands on the edge of the table, “I was stationed at Sunspear and was informed of your army marching through the Red Mountains. I feared the worst, I knew the Dornish would try some tricks. But, I wasn’t expecting to encounter another dragon and rider.” 

“We weren’t either.” said Gwayne, and Daeron chuckled nervously. “But without either of you,” continued the knight, “a bloodbath would have taken place.” 

“I take it you weren’t sent by the Queen either?” Rhaenys asked as she looked at Daeron. Daeron shook his head no. “I am impressed by your skill with your young dragon, you’re quick.” 

“Thank you, Princess.” said Daeron gratefully, “I’ve spent a lot of time training with Tessarion in Oldtown… after all, there’s nothing to do there.” 

“Well, I do not want to put you in further danger.” continued Rhaenys, “And the Queen does not want to use dragons to lay waste to Dorne for this conquest.” 

“Princess, if I may,” Lord Redwyne said, “perhaps we utilize your dragons as a secondary offensive tactic, and our men being the primary use of force.” 

“That would just put more men in danger.” noted Daeron, he looked up at the tall Rhaenys. He hoped that she would join his side, he wanted to be in the action, especially now that he wasn’t the only dragon-rider. 

“We are making progress on the eastern front.” said Rhaenys, “Lemonwood was recently taken by the Lannister host, in the Queen’s name. They are considering moving to Planky Town. I have not engaged in any other sieges in the east.” 

“It appears the Dornish may have placed the bulk of their men on the western front, which we are encountering.” suggested Ser Gwayne, glancing down at the map. 

“That may be so,” agreed Rhaenys, “I have not seen a resistance of this scale out in eastern Dorne.” 

“They expected us to come just from the west, through the mountains.” said Redwyne, “We were lucky.” 

“Then where do we turn our focus next?” asked Gwayne. 

“I suggest we focus on military targets, castles and forts. We stay away from population centers.” said Rhaenys. She pointed to Hellholt. It was southeast of their position at Skyreach, heading towards the interior of the Dornish peninsula, and through the desert. 

“And avoid Sandstone?” asked Redwyne. Sandstone was the next closest castle and village, located to the south of their position. However, after Sandstone, there weren’t any other castles or towns to the south. 

“Taking Hellholt would cut off any lines of trade or military movement from the interior to Sandstone.” explained Rhaenys, “The castle has no geographical boundaries or natural fortifications, it is out in the open desert.” 

“Can our men survive out there in the event we do not take the castle on our first attempt?” asked Redwyne with some concern. 

“There are a few wooded areas to the north of Hellholt, as it sits on a river.” said the Princess, “We will have water, and shade. That should be enough for the time being.” 

“Ser Gwayne, any concerns or opposition?” asked Lord Redwyne. Gwayne stood with his arms crossed as he examined the map. 

“No, I think the Princess’s plan is ideal and most strategic.” he nodded his head. 

“Then it is settled, we will make for Hellholt with perhaps two legions, and have one legion remain here at Skyreach, attending to the wounded.” concluded Redwyne, “For now, let us rest.” 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

The Queen sat with her head laid back over a cushioned chair, where she was having her hair washed by a handmaiden. The chair and small tub of water were brought to the Queen’s residence, set up on the side of her living room, near the balcony. Rhaenyra sat with her eyes closed and hands folded together over her belly, enjoying the soothing massaging of her scalp by her handmaiden. The soaps were scented sweetly like fresh flowers as it was scrubbed into her head gently. Her handmaiden, Elinda, used a small bronze cup to rinse water down the Queen’s long hair. 

It was still early in the morning when she was having her hair washed, and Aegon just woke up, walking into the living room from the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and then stretched his arms with a loud yawn. 

“Good morrow, my beautiful Queen.” Aegon walked over to Rhaenyra and she opened her eyes. He leaned down to kiss her. “Good morrow, Elinda.” Aegon greeted the Queen’s handmaiden. 

“Good morrow, your grace.” responded Elinda quietly.

“I take it you had an eventful night with your old friends.” noted Rhaenyra, Elinda began to rinse the last of the soap out of Rhaenyra’s hair, “I apologize if I woke you.” 

“No you didn’t wake me,” Aegon said, shaking his head, he took Rhaenyra’s hand and caressed it with his own. “And yes, we did have a good time. We broke out a special case of wine from Braavos.” 

“I did not know Braavos was known for its wine.” said Rhaenyra curiously. 

“No, they are not. The wine was terrible.” he said, and Rhaenyra chuckled. Aegon kissed Rhaenyra’s hand as he admired her, 

“You smell nice,” he said quietly. Elinda wrapped a towel around Rhaenyra’s hair as she sat up, and began pat-drying her. 

“I have to tell you something,” said Rhaenyra, and Aegon’s smile faded away, “Elinda,”

“Yes, your grace.” The handmaiden already understood, and as she finished drying Rhaenyra’s hair, she headed for the door. Rhaenyra sat up and held the towel in her lap. Her hair was still damp and rested down her shoulders and chest. 

“What is it?” asked Aegon softly as Elinda left the residence. 

“I am pregnant.” she said, holding in her breath as she waited for Aegon’s reaction. Aegon still held Rhaenyra’s hand and remained with a frozen expression on his face as he processed the information. Rhaenyra was starting to feel nervous. He was dumbfounded. 

“If this is what you did not want-” Rhaenyra started speaking but Aegon stopped her by leaning down to kiss her on her lips. He knelt down on one knee beside her chair and looked at her with a wide smile, 

“Of course this is what I wanted,” he said in disbelief. Rhaenyra began to smile with relief. He held one hand over her belly, touching her other hand. “I want to be a father. This is amazing news.” Rhaenyra rubbed Aegon’s cheek. 

“But…” Aegon’s eyes widened, “does this mean I need to wait nine months… to fuck you?” he couldn’t hold back his giddiness and Rhaenyra laughed. 

“No, we just have to be mindful and careful.” she responded. He nodded eagerly and began rubbing her inner thigh, sliding his hand up her nightgown. “Perhaps we get it out of our system before it becomes too uncomfortable for me.” she added. 

“We can get creative, I have some ideas.” growled Aegon sensually. He slid his fingers up to Rhaenyra’s groin, rubbing the lips of her cunt. She inhaled deeply, leaning forward to kiss Aegon. He slid two fingers inside of her, thrusting his fingers slowly in and out of her hole. Rhaenyra gripped Aegon’s shoulder tightly and gasped between his kisses. Aegon began to smile as he continued fingering and kissing his wife. 

“I want,” whispered Rhaenyra, “you in me,” she said, opening her eyes to stare at Aegon with a lustful glare. Aegon slowed his fingering and took out his fingers to start undressing himself. Rhaenyra got up, helping Aegon take off his shirt and his pants. She watched him undress, admiring his chest and body. She watched him slide off his underwear, his cock slinging downward and slowly growing hard. Rhaenyra untied the string on her lower back that held together her nightgown, and it fell to the floor in one swoop. She guided Aegon to sit on the chair, and she sat on his lap. 

Aegon’s cock instantly grew hard, pointing upward and poking her inner thigh as she sat on him. Aegon wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra’s back, pulling her closely as she started to grind her cunt on Aegon’s cock. Aegon smiled, he loved feeling her grind on his meat. He could feel his cock already getting wet from both his own precum and her wet hole. He wanted to stick it in her desperately. Rhaenyra lifted up slightly, and Aegon held his cock still. She lowered herself onto his hardened dick, feeling its head push through her tight hole, going in her deeper as she sat. Aegon started moving Rhaenyra at her hips, and she started to ride him slowly. 

Aegon sat with his legs wide open, leaning back slightly in the chair, watching Rhaenyra’s body as she rode him. He looked up into her eyes, and she looked back down at him. He sat up, kissing Rhaenyra’s neck and licking her skin. He ran his hands up Rhaenyra’s back, moving his kisses down to her breasts, lightly biting her nipples. 

“Faster,” groaned Aegon, and Rhaenyra started to ride on his cock faster. The chair began to rock and creak. Aegon felt the urge for more, he wanted to swallow up Rhaenyra entirely with his mouth. Aegon slowed Rhaenyra down and stood her up so he could also get up. Aegon pinned Rhaenyra against the closed balcony door, spreading her legs open. He lowered his hips, positioning his cock at her cunt, and thrusted upward to enter her. Rhaenyra gasped, holding her arms around Aegon’s flexing back muscles. Aegon fucked her hard, pounding with forceful thrusts, pushing her into the door. He hadn’t fucked standing like this before, and he liked it. Rhaenyra lifted one leg and wrapped it around Aegon’s bare ass. Aegon held her leg up, feeling her tremble. 

“Aegon, yes,” moaned Rhaenyra, closing her eyes and dropping her jaw from the intense pleasure. Aegon looked down, watching his glistening cock slide effortlessly in and out of her. 

“Fuck,” groaned Aegon, “you want more of my seed?” he whispered in her ear. 

“Yes,” she whimpered. 

“I’ve got a fuckload for you,” grunted Aegon passionately, “yeah, take that cock,” he kissed up and down Rhaenyra’s neck, going for her ear again. He then kissed her on his lips as he thrusted harder, moaning himself as he ejaculated inside of her. “Oh fuck!” he mumbled while his lips were pressed against Rhaenyra’s, and she moaned, “fuck…” he slowed his thrusting. He felt his cock was soaked and slowed to a stop. He closed his eyes and held Rhaenyra close, leaning against her as his heart rate slowed from the intense beating. 

Helaena & Alicent

Princess Helaena wore a long black gown with small green linings across her sleeves and shoulders as she joined her mother at the Great Sept. Alicent wore a deep turquoise gown, with a golden circlet on her braided hair, which was attached to a long green veil. The Dowager Queen always dressed modestly and traditionally when going to the Great Sept, her shoulders completely covered, and neckline not exposed. Helaena was not afraid of wearing lower-cut gowns, as she wanted to be more comfortable. She did not like going to the Sept so often, she wasn’t as religious as her mother. However, the Princess did not want her mother always doing things by her lonesome. The two came together to the grand hall of the Sept to pray at the table of candles for the late King Viserys. 

Helaena and Alicent knelt at the large table of candles where they prayed together. However, as Alicent continued praying silently to herself, Helaena just looked across the table, into the various small flames. She said her prayer to her father, hoping he was protected by the Seven in whatever afterlife he was sent to. Helaena looked over her and her mother’s shoulder, where she saw Ser Criston Cole on guard, staring at the two women. Helaena faced forward again. There was one other Kingsguard across the hall, Ser Erryk. Most of them remained outside the hall, keeping out any other parishioners. 

“Are you alright, Helaena?” asked Alicent, opening her eyes from her silent prayer. Helaena glanced at her mother with wide eyes, nodding her head. Alicent raised her brows and Helaena winced subtly, 

“I’m a bit nervous.” she said quietly. 

“What for?” asked the Dowager Queen, shaking her head. 

“I feel that I am not meant to be Queen… that I am not meant to marry Jacaerys.” she admitted. 

“What makes you think that?” Alicent touched her daughter’s hand to reassure her, “That’s preposterous. You will be Queen after Rhaenyra.” Helaena sighed quietly and faced the candles, looking at the dozens of small flames. 

“Is it something you do not want?” asked Alicent. 

“I feel… indifferent.” stated the princess plainly, “Fate will usher me into where I need to be. But I do not know how to be a good queen.” 

“Well, it is not easy,” Alicent rubbed her daughter’s forearm, “but it might be for you.”

“Why?” 

“Because you are good, you are kind, and compassionate. Those are qualities crucial for a good queen.” Alicent leaned her shoulder into Helaena’s, “And remembering the smallfolk, keeping them in mind. They are what breathe life into the Crown.” Helaena looked at her mother with an idea, her lips curling into a smile, 

“Might we walk down the Street of Steel on our way back to the Red Keep? Just a small portion, a few blocks, not too much.” Alicent was not expecting that and she was a bit stunned. She could not remember any time in her life that she walked the streets of King’s Landing, let alone being so far from the Red Keep. 

“I am not sure about that,” said Alicent nervously. 

“We have twenty knights, mother. Please. If you feel unsafe, we can get right back in the carriage.” insisted the Princess. Alicent looked at her daughter, her resolve weakening… and she gave in. 

Dowager Queen Alicent walked with her arm interlocked with Helaena’s as they walked down the middle of the Street of Steel, being followed by their royal carriage, and completely surrounded by the twenty knights that made up their Kingsguard security detail. The knights walked closely to one another, forming a protective barrier for the former Queen and the Princess, keeping back the onlooking smallfolk. 

Helaena smiled and waved at the smallfolk that began gathering in the wide avenue, they were not expecting to see any member of the royal family up close, let alone outside of their carriage. Men and women and children came out of their shops, businesses, taverns, and inns to see the royals. Alicent was petrified, but kept her composure. As long as she held onto her daughter, and that her knights were close by, she could manage. She compromised with Helaena - they’d walk just three blocks, and then get back in the carriage for the rest of the way to the Red Keep. 

“Gods bless you, my princess!” called out a woman in the crowd on the side of the street. “Gods bless Queen Rhaenyra!” called out another. Helaena continued to wave to the people. She hadn’t seen so many faces that were in complete awe, and all eyes were on her. It was a bit overwhelming, but she maintained a steady breath as she walked. Children up on the balcony of a nearby house began throwing flower petals onto the street in front of Helaena and Alicent. Helaena looked up, seeing five little children clinging against the metallic railing of the balcony, staring at her with grins. 

“No more Green Queen!” called out a man in the crowd. Alicent felt her heart skip a beat. She figured that had to be about her. Helaena started drifting away from the center of the street, to the left side of the street, closer to the amassing crowds. Alicent tugged at Helaena’s arm, but Helaena ignored her. 

“You are beautiful, Princess!” cheered an older woman. The smallfolk stuck their hands between the Kingsguard knights, trying to reach for the Princess to touch her. Alicent could not believe how enamored the smallfolk were with her daughter. 

Helaena spotted a young man stick his arm between Ser Erryk and another knight, holding out a white rose. Helaena stopped, and Ser Erryk shoved back the young man. 

“Stop, Ser Erryk.” said Helaena gently, and the knight stepped back. Helaena looked between Erryk and the other knight, and the young man holding the rose stood back up. He had long golden blond hair, he wore a nobleman’s attire, a fitted gold and red suit coat and trousers. He held out the white rose to Helaena. 

“Thank you,” said Helaena, taking the rose. Her fingers grazed the young man’s hand. He bowed his head. 

“My pleasure, my princess.” he said in a confident voice over the loud crowd. Helaena smelled the rose, it was sweet and strong, and all its thorns were cut off the stem. 

“What is your name?” asked Helaena. 

“Armond,” he said with a smile. He had to be no more than eighteen years old.

“Where did you get this rose, Armond?” 

“From my shop, I am a florist, my Princess,” he said. Alicent noticed Helaena perked in more interest. “I even supplied some flowers for the royal wedding, for her grace, the Queen.” 

“It is beautiful,” 

“No more than yourself, Princess.” said Armond. Alicent then tugged at Helaena.

“Well, I must go along, I have to get back home.” she said, “It was nice meeting you, Armond.” Alicent tugged her along and Helaena looked over her shoulder.

“Aye, as to you, Princess!” called out Armond as the Princess and Dowager Queen continued down the road. Helaena faced forward and smiled to herself, holding the rose tightly near her chest. 

Jacaerys & Aemond

Riverrun

The arrival at Riverrun for Princes Jacaerys and Aemond were met with excitement and glamor. The two princes landed their dragons in an open field just a mile away from Riverrun, and were greeted by a company of horses and an ornate carriage. They were carried back to the castle that sat upon the river, its thick white walls and towers rising high, adorned with banners of House Tully. 

They were quickly brought to Lord Oscar Tully, and a feast was thrown in their honor. Jacaerys and Aemond sat beside Lord Oscar Tully at a wide table on a dais in the main hall of Riverrun. There were three other long tables in the hall, filled with lords and ladies, composed of the nobility of the Riverlands, and extended relatives of the young Lord of Riverrun. Seated on the other side of Oscar Tully were his younger two sisters that were twins. The three were all that were left of the lineage of House Tully. 

Oscar Tully stood up from his large chair, clinking his fork against his goblet to gain everyone’s attention. Oscar had just turned fifteen years old, yet he commanded immediate respect from the older men and women in the room. 

“I would like to toast the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, Jacaerys Targaryen,” said Oscar loudly and proudly, “and his mother, her Grace the Queen. Together, they have brought forward a new era of stability and order to the Realm.” Oscar held his cup out towards Jace at his right side, “House Tully and the Riverlands are honored to be strong supporters of the Crown, and we look forward to a new relationship in the future. To the Prince!” Oscar raised his cup. 

“To the Prince!” chanted the men and women in the room, holding up their cups. Jace did as well, and Aemond held up his cup reluctantly. As Oscar drank first, the others in the hall drank their wine and ale as well. Oscar sat back down, the musicians in the far corner of the hall continued their ballads, and the guests continued their meals. 

“My Prince, I heard about your first dragon, and I am deeply sorry for what the Dornish had done.” said Oscar, leaning towards Jace.  

“Thank you, my lord. That is kind of you.” he said with a nod. Jacaerys was beginning to feel tired of the apologies for the death of his first dragon. It was something he wanted to move on from, yet it was all he was reminded of. It was as if he was constantly reminded of his biggest failure. 

“But I nearly shit my pants when I saw your new dragon, and Vhagar together…” 

“Vermithor.” said Jace, and Oscar nodded. 

“I did not know he even existed.” Oscar chuckled. 

“He was hiding away on Dragonstone all these years.” explained Jace. Jace felt a nudge on his foot and knee. It was Aemond. Aemond used his leg to nudge Jace’s under the table. He held back a smile as he spoke to Oscar. 

“Now, how is the war going in Dorne? I keep hearing different things.” said Oscar curiously. 

“It is going well, slow progress is being made, but progress nonetheless.” said the brown haired prince. Jace then felt Aemond's hand rub on his thigh, moving up and down his thigh. His heart fluttered. 

“I heard what happened to Sunspear… what a complete shame.” sighed Oscar. 

“What a shame how treacherous House Martell is,” butt-in Aemond, looking over at Oscar, “starting with Qoren Martell.” Aemond took a large swig at his cup of ale. 

“Ah, yes,” nodded the young lord, “war can lead to many atrocities. It is a dangerous and often uncontrollable path.” 

“It is indeed,” agreed Jace, “you are quite wise, my lord. For someone so young.” 

“I thank you, my prince.” said Oscar humbly, “I’ve spent many years shadowing my grandfather during his time as lord. Now, my sisters, they are just as smart and cunning as I, and would make fine wives to you and Prince Aemond.” Jace gulped nervously and shook his hand subtly, 

“Oh, I am already betrothed, my lord. But thank you.” Aemond then looked over at the girls at the other end of the table. They were just ten years old. The two brown haired girls were talking to just themselves as they ate their meal. 

“I intend to just serve the Realm, my lord.” said Aemond, also passing on the opportunity. 

...

As night fell, the feasting came to an end, and the princes were shown their rooms. Aemond, however, had no desire to go to bed just yet. He quietly treaded down the cold stone floored halls, heading towards Jacaerys’ guest bedroom. Aemond enters Jace’s room, finding him preparing to get into bed. 

“What are you doing?” he asked with a smile. 

“Come with me.” said Aemond quietly, keeping his voice low. 

“Where?” 

“Just come with me, trust me.” Aemond took Jace’s hand, and they left the bedroom. 

Aemond peered his head around a corner to ensure there wasn’t anyone, and he nodded to Jace that the coast was clear. The two young men rushed down the hall, heading for one of the castle’s doors. They headed outside into the main courtyard, passing by the stables, passing by the barracks and training yard. They came upon the gate to the outdoors, and encountered a single knight standing guard. 

“We need to check on our dragons, good ser.” said Aemond to the Tully knight. He nodded and proceeded to open the gate, letting Aemond and Jacaerys out into the wilderness. The gate led to a rocky path along the riverside, and they followed it. 

The path soon turned from gravel and rocks to just dirt as they ventured deeper into a wooded area, still remaining at the river’s edge. Aemond took Jace’s hand again, holding it as he led him through the dark woods. Only the moonlight piercing through the tree branches guided their way. 

“What if we encounter a bear?” asked Jace worriedly, and Aemond laughed quietly. 

“I’ve got my sword.” Aemond patted the hilt of his sword on his belt, “I’ll protect you.” Jace chuckled lightheartedly, still going along with Aemond. 

Aemond slowed to a stop upon passing through a dense wall of bushes and shrubs, coming upon a small beach area on the riverbed. Jace walked out onto the beach, admiring the view. The river bent at their location, they had a view of both directions of the river, towards the castle and deeper into the wilderness. The water was still and quiet. Jace looked up, seeing a full moon high in the cloudless sky. He heard the clinking and unbuckling of a belt and turned around to see Aemond stripping. 

“What are you doing?” exclaimed Jace. Aemond dropped his pants and went into the water. Jace admired Aemond’s body as he descended into the dark water. 

“Come on now,” he said to Jace, “are you really going to make me swim alone?” Jace sighed and began taking off his clothes. The air was chilly and he held his arms close to his body as he walked to the edge of the water. The sand was soft and smooth against his feet. The water was cold and brisk, and Aemond gestured for him to enter. Jace rushed into the water to get it over with. Aemond stood deep in the water where it reached just the top of his chest. Jace tumbled into the water, landing into Aemond’s arms. 

Aemond laughed loudly as he held Jace in his arms. Jace hadn’t heard Aemond laugh so loud before, ever. They slowly spun around in the water as Aemond wrapped his arms around Jacaerys, looking into each other’s eyes. The moonlight gave just enough light to illuminate themselves, reflecting off of the water. 

“I never imagined this side of you existed.” noted Jace, his breath slightly shuddering from the cold water. Aemond rubbed Jace’s back, his hands moving down to Jace’s ass cheeks. 

“Oh? Meaning what?” he asked curiously. 

“You always seemed so enclosed, tightly wound up… distant.” explained Jace. 

“I know,” said Aemond softly, “I never really felt a reason to not be that way. I’ve always felt… like I never belonged.” Jacaerys’ heart began to sink, feeling badly how Aemond had been treated over the years during their childhood. All the fooling around, the joking, the pestering and teasing. “It was mainly Aegon, of course,” continued Aemond, clearing his throat. Jace could see Aemond’s single eye was glistening, he was holding back a tear. “And then when I lost my eye.” 

“I wish I didn’t judge you the way I had all these years.” said Jace, he raised a hand out of the water to caress Aemond’s scarred cheek. He held his hand under Aemond’s eyepatch, then deciding to take it off and throw it onto the beach. The eyepatch landed in the sand. Aemond kissed Jace’s arm and then his hand. 

“It is alright now,” said Aemond, “we have many years ahead of us. We can make up for all that lost time.”  He continued kissing Jace’s hand, and then kissed Jace on his wet lips. 

“Aemond,” said Jace, and Aemond stopped kissing him, “I feel something for you. And not just lust or anything like that.” Aemond stared deeply into Jace’s eyes as they slowly swayed in the water, their naked bodies pressed against each other to keep themselves warm. 

“I have never cared about or for anyone before,” said Aemond softly, “only you.” Aemond gently pressed his lips onto Jace’s lips, kissing him longingly. Aemond started to squeeze Jace’s ass, rubbing him hard. Jace began thrusting his hips into Aemond, grinding their cocks together. Jace breathed heavily upon feeling both their cocks harden immediately. He held onto Aemond tightly. 

“Let’s get out of the water,” said Aemond, and Jace nodded. Jace headed first out of the water and Aemond followed him. As Jace got out of the water, Aemond lightly slapped Jace’s ass. Jace spun around with a smile, grabbing Aemond to kiss him again. 

Aemond pressed his erect cock against Jace’s, slowly lowering him onto the sand. Jace laid on his back, feeling the sand get into his hair and cling to his body. Aemond laid on top of him, between Jace’s legs, and began humping Jace’s cock with his own. Jace held onto Aemond’s face as they kissed passionately. He then spit in his hand and grabbed Aemond’s cock. Aemond continued to thrust, sliding his cock in Jace’s tightly wrapped fingers. 

“I want all of you,” whispered Aemond, beginning to kiss down Jace’s neck. As Aemond moved further back, he let go of Aemond’s cock, and watched him kiss down his body. Aemond licked down the center of Jace’s torso, down to his belly, and down to his cock. Jace was apprehensive and surprised. Aemond looked into Jace’s eyes as he held Jace’s cock upward, licking around his tip. Aemond then slid Jace’s cock into his mouth, sucking him gently. Jace gasped in pleasure and laid his head back, looking up at the starry sky. He started moving his hips, and Aemond sucked him harder. 

“Oh, fuck, Aemond,” groaned Jace, raising his head to look back down at Aemond. His own cock was covered in Aemond’s saliva as he continued sucking passionately. Aemond then stopped, crawling back on top of Jace to kiss him. “Will you fuck me?” asked Jace in a whimpering whisper. Aemond smirked, 

“You never have to ask,” Aemond sat on his knees between Jace’s legs, lifting them both up. He dusted the sand off of Jace’s ass and then spread his legs open. While holding his body upward, Aemond licked down Jace’s balls, down to his hole. Aemond licked around the rim of Jace’s hole, then slowly sticking in his tongue, lubing him. Jace moaned quietly as Aemond drove his tongue into his hole, he had never felt such a satisfying pleasure before, but it only made him want more, a deeper, thicker penetration. 

Aemond put Jace’s legs on his own shoulders and slowly pressed his cock inside of Jace’s tight hole. Aemond pressed downward, folding Jace’s legs closer to his chest. Jace closed his eyes as he felt Aemond’s thick cock push deeper inside of himself. 

“Oh god,” panted Jace, and Aemond stopped, fearing he had gone too fast and hurt Jace. Jacaerys opened his eyes and looked between Aemond’s eye and his sapphire eye. “Don’t stop,” he caressed Aemond’s face. Aemond pulled out slowly to then push back in, continuing his thrusting with ease. He closed his eyes as he felt mesmerized by Jace’s wet, warm, hole gripping his dick. Aemond started to thrust faster, hearing Jace moan. 

Jace let go of Aemond’s face and dug his fingers into the sand. Aemond opened his eyes, seeing Jace’s face and neck reddening as he continued to fuck, his face flushed. He thrusted faster, not holding back. 

“Yes, Aemond!” moaned Jace loudly. Aemond felt even more turned on, he enjoyed hearing Jace moan loudly, whimpering and panting. “Fuck my hole,” exclaimed Jace. Aemond nodded and grunted, pushing further into Jace, folding him even further. They could hear the sound of Aemond’s cock sliding in and out of Jace’s hole, he was feeling wetter than before. Aemond put down one of Jace’s legs so he could jerk Jace’s cock while fucking him. 

“Oh Aemond, yes,” moaned Jace. 

“You want me to pound you?” teased Aemond in a deep voice, clenching his jaw. Jace nodded desperately, 

“Yes, don’t stop, please.” 

“Oh fuck yes,” moaned Aemond loudly, he leaned his head back. Jace could see veins protruding through Aemond’s muscular forearms, his biceps tense and tight. He rubbed Aemond’s arms, then down his chest. 

“Aemond!” moaned Jace even louder,

“Jacaerys,” groaned Aemond, “you’re so fucking tight, fuck.” Jace put one hand on Aemond’s ass, pulling him in deeper, and Aemond thrusted as hard as he could without hurting Jace. He did not want to outright pummel Jace, he had no desire to act maniacally, he loved maintaining a steady yet forceful fuck. 

“I want to see you cum,” panted Jace, whispering in Aemond’s ear as he laid low over Jace’s body. Aemond nodded. 

“Almost there,” he grunted. Jace continued to stroke his cock, he was ready to cum. 

“Don’t stop, Aemond,” 

“Oh fuck,” Aemond pulled his cock out of Jace’s hole, and without even stroking himself, he came over Jace’s belly and chest. Jace jerked himself and came at the same time, cumming over his body, mixing with Aemond’s cum. Jace laid his head back in the sand. Aemond looked down at his throbbing cock that dripped cum, and then at the pool of cum on Jace’s body. Aemond lowered down onto Jace to kiss him on his lips. 

Jace brushed back Aemond’s hair with a smile, 

“I like fucking in the wild,” he said, and Aemond chuckled. 

Aegon

The Red Keep

Aegon walked confidently and with content outside the Red Keep, heading down through the gardens, searching for his mother. He walked down a straight path that bypassed the winding trails that went within the royal gardens, heading for a separate seating area. Aegon found his mother out on a wide veranda, with Helaena, seated underneath a trellis that was covered in vines and flowers. His mother and sister were embroidering together in silence, with a view of Blackwater Bay just over the edge of the veranda. 

“Mother, dear sister, I have some news,” said Aegon excitedly, walking into the shaded veranda. He stood between his mother and sister and they both looked up at him. Alicent was embroidering a dress, most likely for Helaena. It was mostly shades of blue and turquoise, with some black linings. Helaena had a men’s coat in her lap, it was black in color and she was embroidering an intricate design with gold and red. 

“Rhaenyra is with child.” said Aegon, watching his mother for her response. Helaena clapped lightly in excitement, 

“How wonderful,” said the Princess. Aegon smiled and nodded at Helaena and then looked back at his mother, where she still had an emotionless look on her face. Aegon’s smile instantly disappeared. 

“What’s the matter now?” asked Aegon, “Are you not proud of me? I am fulfilling my duty as her consort and husband.” Helaena’s clapping slowed to a stop upon seeing her mother’s disinterested face. 

“I am proud, I bid you congratulations, Aegon.” said Alicent quietly, she turned her attention back to her embroidery. Aegon walked around them to stand in front of their view of the bay. 

“Speak your mind, mother.” said Aegon. 

“It is best if I do not.” she responded. 

“On the contrary,” insisted Aegon. Alicent put down her sewing needle and looked at her son, 

“This child will be born with silver hair, just like you and Rhaenyra.” 

“I am aware of that, so?” Aegon crossed his arms. 

“People will question why the heir to the Iron Throne does not have silver hair, but the fourth born child does.” explained Alicent. 

“Mother, I do not want to think about this,” scoffed the Prince Consort, turning around with irritation. “You know how much that line of questioning has hurt Rhaenyra and her sons. I was too foolish and immature to not see it sooner.” 

“Of course I know how much it hurt her,” said Alicent, raising her voice, “I once played a part in sowing these seeds of doubt in your own father.”

“Then why bring this up?” 

“Because someone else will. And you best be prepared for it.” she scolded. Aegon turned around with a hint of disgust in his eyes as he looked at his mother. 

“Those kinds of words cut deeper than knives. Tread carefully, mother.” Aegon walked past his mother and sister, heading out of the veranda, and back up the path. Alicent said nothing else to her son as he left. She looked down at her embroidery and sighed. 

“Mother,” spoke up Helaena softly, “there is no use in saying these things.” 

“I want to protect them, to make sure they anticipate the dangers-”

“She is the Queen,” Helaena interrupted her mother, “Rhaenyra is well aware, she’s had to hear it for nearly two decades. It will only undermine the strength of our family.” 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

The Queen walked the halls of the Red Keep with her Master of Laws, Lord Jasper Wylde. The two did not interact much, but Rhaenyra sought out his opinion since he was well versed the laws that governed the Realm. After all, Jasper had also served her father for many years. 

“I see to make some more institutional changes, Lord Jasper.” said Rhaenyra, walking alongside Jasper. The two strolled together down a wide corridor, heading out to one of the many courtyards of the Red Keep. They were being followed by Ser Harrold and two other knights of the Kingsguard. “I respect your knowledge of law and precedents, even though at times we stand at opposite ends of the Small Council table.” she said lightheartedly. 

“I thank you, your grace. I hold the utmost respect for you,” responded Jasper, “in these last few months as Queen, you have proven to be a mindful and wise leader.” Rhaenyra smiled gratefully. “Now, what did you have in mind to change?” 

“I believe it might be more of a creation,” continued the Queen, “I would like to be more connected to the lords and ladies of the Realm, to know their concerns, and to be able to act on them more quickly.” 

“Well, that is why we hold court, your grace.” noted Jasper. 

“Court can, at times, be a bit too slow. I have been contemplating establishing a chamber of lords and ladies that represent their regions of the Realm.” said Rhaenyra. 

“And what would this chamber of lords be responsible for?”

“To deliberate on the most pressing matters facing their Houses, facing their commoners. I feel that this war has taken most of my attention away from issues on the domestic front.” explained the Queen. 

“It sounds like we would take away some of our power from the Small Council. Even from you, perhaps, your grace.” said Jasper, he was a bit concerned with Rhaenyra’s idea. She could tell that Jasper thought of her idea as radical. It was obvious since his first concern was their loss of power. 

“I do not see it as us losing our power,” contested the Queen, respectfully, “rather they would make recommendations on proposals, policies, and laws to change to us, and to myself. I would still maintain power on whether or not to approve and codify their recommendations.” 

“Well,” Jasper slowed to a stop and Rhaenyra faced him, “I am impressed by your forward-thinking. Perhaps we should discuss this before the full Small Council at our next session?”

“Yes, indeed.” agreed Rhaenyra. 

Daeron

Skyreach

Dorne

It was the last night that Daeron would be spending at Skyreach. In the morning, along with three thousand knights and Princess Rhaenys, Daeron would be making his way to a stationing ground just north of Hellholt at the northern tip of the Brimstone River. He could not fall asleep, and it was the middle of the night. He tossed and turned in his bed. 

The room once belonged to some family member of House Fowler, however, they were all imprisoned in the dungeons far below the castle until further instruction by the Queen. There were dozens of bedrooms, and Daeron took a modestly sized room. It had small windows with open curtains, letting in the moonlight, a small seating area for hosting any guests, and a shelf of various wines and drinks. The walls were painted a deep yellow and orange color, typical for Dornish architecture and interior design. 

Daeron laid on his back and looked up at the ceiling, stunned to see a massive mural. His eyes scanned the mural, which contained over a dozen men and women. They were all naked and fornicating. He wasn’t expecting such a crude painting to be the main decor of the room, but he did hear rumors of how sex-positive the Dornish were. Many of the men in the mural were standing over the women, some holding them up on their waists as they fucked, others engaging in oral sex. 

He slowly reached his hand down to his loose pants, rubbing his soft bulge. He focused particularly on one corner of the mural above his bed where two men engaged in sex with a single woman. The woman was on her hands and knees, taking one man from behind, and sucking off another man in front of herself. He felt his dick flex, itching to be touched more. 

Daeron felt conflicted and rubbed his eyes with a deep exhale. He couldn’t escape from his mind the lessons he was taught during religious education a few years back. That intimacy was to be saved for marriage, any kind of intimacy for that matter. It was drilled into his head by the Septon. 

Daeron got up from his bed and paced around the room with his hands on his hips, trying to clear his head. He decided he needed to go for a walk, and left the bedroom. 

The halls of the residential floor of the castle were quiet and still. Daeron walked barefoot on the cold stone floor, wondering what the castle looked like with all of House Fowler during their normal lives. The castle now felt dead. The knights and soldiers mostly slept outside in tents, as there wasn’t room in the castle to house the twenty thousand troops that arrived that day. 

Daeron turned a corner, continuing down the hall. He saw a small sliver of light coming from a door, and a muffled sound. As Daeron carefully walked down the hall, he realized the sound he was hearing was moaning. He approached the door carefully, walking lightly and taking wide steps. 

Daeron held onto the trim of the doorway, peeking inside. The door was just opened by a few inches. Inside was a bedroom, and on the bed he saw Gwayne fucking someone. Daeron’s eyes widened. Gwayne was fucking a teenage boy on his hands and knees, thrusting from behind, holding his waist tightly. The teenage boy had dark blond, curly hair, and Gwayne fucked him like a dog. His uncle was glistening in sweat, his back muscles flexing as he pounded the teenager. Daeron couldn’t look away, occasionally glancing at the teenager. He saw armor on the floor, and assumed that the boy was a squire, a part of their army. 

Gwayne groaned, thrusting hard and slowly. Daeron then saw the teen’s cock cum handsfree, onto the bed, and he moaned. Daeron swung away from the doorway and leaned his back against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut. The entire castle seemed to be crazed over fucking. He rushed back down the hall, towards his bedroom. 

...

The next morning, Daeron woke up early, got dressed, and went down to the main courtyard. He stood beside Tessarion as she laid still on the ground, tightening her saddle’s leather straps. The young prince tied back his long silver blond hair into a low pony-tail, he wore light leather armor, with iron shoulder plates. 

“Ready for the next leg of the journey?” Gwayne Hightower approached his nephew, carrying his helm at his side. Daeron glanced at his uncle briefly and then focused back on fixing the saddle’s straps. 

“Yes,” he nodded. He then heard more footsteps approaching, and in the corner of his eye, noticed it was Princess Rhaenys. She was in her Targaryen armor, all ready to depart. 

“Alright, it should be a few hours to the Brimstone River.” she said, joining the two men by Tessarion, “Are you all ready to go, Daeron?” 

“Yes, Princess.” responded Daeron politely. He finished tightening the straps and patted on the side of Tessarion’s belly. The blue lifted her head from the ground and grumbled. 

“I am off to Meleys,” added Rhaenys, “the legion has gotten a head start. We will maintain close to the host while we march east.” 

“I’ll have my men move with haste, Princess.” said Gwayne, and Rhaenys nodded gratefully. Rhaenys then patted Daeron on his shoulder and she headed for the opened gateway to leave the castle courtyard. Meleys waited outside the walls, as the Red Queen was far too large to rest inside. Knights finished feeding their horses and began trotting outside the gate as well, following Rhaenys to join the rest of the Tyrell host. Daeron climbed onto Tessarion and looked down at his uncle, 

“I’ll see you at the Brimstone,” he said. Gwayne nodded and stepped back as Tessarion got up. Tessarion unfolded her pearlescent blue wings, taking a small run to then take off into the sky. Gwayne was puzzled, he hadn’t seen his nephew so solemn before. 

As Daeron flew up into the sky, he heard Meleys roar from behind. The older dragon was catching up. Tessarion roared back in a chirping manner. He looked over his shoulder. Meleys flew right over his head, surpassing Tessarion in speed. But, he didn’t focus on the red dragon, but down below at the slowly marching army. He thought of his uncle, and what he saw last night. His uncle was fucking a boy perhaps the same age as himself, and he wished he didn’t see it. He wondered if that was why Gwayne rarely spent any time at home in Oldtown, and perhaps why he was still unmarried. He was free to do whatever he pleased. Daeron faced forward and tried to clear his mind. He tightened his grip on the saddle handles,

“Good girl, Tessarion,” he solemnly praised his dragon as she followed after Meleys. 

Chapter Text

The Small Council

The Red Keep

“I respect the Queen’s ambition and desire to seek change for the betterment of the Realm,” Lord Lyman Beesbury spoke with a raspy voice at the Small Council table, “but I can only see more problems arise for us - for you, your grace.” The Queen decided to reveal her plans to create a representative council, an extension of the Small Council, made up of lords and ladies across the Realm. 

“I just have concerns on how members would be chosen,” said Tyland Lannister, voicing his concerns. 

“I know this is a shock, not only to you, but to the system.” Queen Rhaenyra spoke steadily, to reassure the men on her council. “These members would be appointed by Wardens of their respective province, by their Great House.”

“Additionally, your grace,” continued Beesbury, “there is no telling how selfishly these members would act. Only to further their own goals.” 

“I could argue that about quite literally any lord across the country, Lord Beesbury.” chuckled Rhaenyra, she was not impressed by that argument. 

“It is feasible,” joined Jasper Wylde, “it is not impossible. We just need to be mindful of the laws that keep this body of government in check, beneath the rule of the Crown.” 

“Your grace, may I ask what spurred this idea?” asked Tyland, looking across the table to Rhaenyra. 

“I believe this would provide a more efficient method of running the government. Rather than holding court, which has created a backlog in the number of petitions from both nobles and smallfolk. One person alone, a monarch, cannot possibly know all of the issues facing the Realm and have solutions for every single one.” explained Rhaenyra. 

“I am not sure if the Kings before you would have wanted this,” said Beesbury quietly. Rhaenyra felt her neck twitch upon hearing Beesbury’s comment. 

“I’m the Queen now,” she scolded, “not Viserys or Jaehaerys.” 

“Forgive me, your grace, I only mean that the work they have put in-”

“My duty is to improve upon the work my father and his grandfather before him has done.” continued the Queen, interrupting the old lord. Rhaenyra wished that Rhaenys was here with her at the table. Her Hand always knew how to slow down the attacks on Rhaenyra’s judgement and plans. It felt as if the men were treating her like a princess still. 

“The Queen solely seeks to improve the lives of all in the Realm,” Alicent finally spoke up, and Rhaenyra was relieved. At least she could have some defense from the Dowager Queen. The men at the table ceased their debate with the Queen. 

“Grand Maester,” Rhaenyra looked to Orwyle, “please ready some ravens. I will be drafting messages to the Great Houses. You are all dismissed.” Rhaenyra folded her hands together on the table and watched as all the men stood up. Alicent remained seated, and remained quiet until all the men left the room. Ser Harrold was the last to exit the room, however, he would just stand guard right outside the door. 

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent said softly, turning to look at her old friend, “what is your true intention here?” 

“I need to create more stability for this government.” sighed Rhaenyra, leaning back in her seat tiredly. “A long-lasting institution that can withstand the drama and stresses within the Crown.” 

“Might I suggest we wait until the war is over,” suggested Alicent, “you do not need any additional matters to stress over.” Rhaenyra nodded slowly. She reached for the small marble ball in front of her on the table and held it in her hand. The marble ball was smooth and cold. Alicent had a point, the war was already stressful enough. Perhaps it would be best to not put more priorities on her plate at the moment. 

“I had a fight with Jacaerys the other day,” said Rhaenyra quietly, looking down. 

“About what?” 

“The wedding. He doesn’t seem so enthused about it.” answered the Queen. 

“I am confused, because a few months ago, the prince was content being with Helaena, spending all their time together,” said Alicent. 

“I do not know what to do.” said Rhaenyra, looking at Alicent. 

“The wedding is to happen, Rhaenyra. That is certain. Regardless of his feelings, unfortunately, they do not matter.” Alicent was feeling tense, “Every single one of our marriages have been to benefit the Crown and the Crown only. 

“You are not wrong,” said Rhaenyra, “but shouldn’t we end that torturous cycle?” Alicent became pensive. She did not disagree with Rhaenyra. She reflected on her forced marriage to King Viserys so many years ago, when she was just a child still. She had to have children so young. And what exactly did it achieve? The King had more children and the family grew. But he already had his heir. 

Aemond & Jacaerys

The Riverlands

Prince Jacaerys and Prince Aemond flew on their dragons, Vermithor and Vhagar, high above the cloud-covered Riverlands. The two flew close to one another, swaying between each other’s paths, over and under each other. It appeared as if the two elder dragons were locked in a slow dance with one another. 

Jacaerys smiled and laughed as he flew right across Vhagar and Aemond’s path diagonally, looking over his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Aemond whip at his reins. Vhagar bellowed and picked up speed, attempting to surpass Vermithor. She flew adjacent to Vermithor, surprising the bronze dragon. Vermithor let out a little roar as Vhagar managed to pass him. Aemond let go of his saddle and held out his arms freely, looking over at Jacaerys. 

Jacaerys smirked and then decided to focus. He leaned forward on his saddle and buckled his leather strap belt into the saddle. He tugged at Vermithor’s reins, and the Bronze Fury flew upward at a steep angle. Aemond watched with curiosity and apprehension as Vermithor ascended. Jacaerys leaned to his right, and so did Vermithor. Jacaerys continued to lean, and Vermithor banked even deeper. Aemond’s eyes widened as he witnessed Vermithor fly upside down. 

Vermithor flew right over Vhagar upside down, and Jacaerys looked down, howling and hooting with excitement. Aemond was impressed and watched in awe as Vermithor and Jace rolled over him in the air. Vermithor then leveled out and dipped a few dozen meters into the clouds, regaining his balance. Aemond could not get enough of seeing Jacaerys filled with glee, it made him feel satisfied, and didn’t want that feeling to end. 

...

Aemond and Jace landed along the Red Fork in the Riverlands, they had flown just half a day from Riverrun, and wanted to take their time heading back to the capital. The Red Fork was one of the three main rivers that split off from the Trident, giving it its name. The two young men decided to camp on the river’s edge, a few meters away from the river bank. Behind them was a sparse wooded area of pine and birch trees. The ground was soft and grassy, especially near the water. Their dragons decided to doze off in the nearby area, leaving the boys to their privacy. 

Aemond sat on a fallen log in front of a fire he made, tending to the wood with a long stick. He positioned the logs and branches towards the middle of the firepit, and the fire grew in size, giving off enough warmth. Jacaerys walked over to the fire and revealed in his arms a bunch of apples, 

“Look, I found some apple trees nearby.” he said happily. Aemond looked, the apples were glistening red. 

“Little Tully boy gave us jerky and bread for our trip.” said Aemond. Jace shrugged and handed an apple to Aemond. Jace put the apples down beside Aemond and reached for his bag, taking out his sleepsack. There were two of them, and he unrolled the first to lay it a few feet away from the fire on a patch of short grass and dirt. As Jace readied their sleepsacks, Aemond reached in his own bag to get some of the meat jerky they were gifted from Oscar Tully. 

Jace stood proudly over the two sleepsacks that he laid side by side. He looked over at Aemond, noticing the silver haired prince was staring at him longingly as he chewed on the tough jerky. 

“Is it good?” asked Jace, walking over to Aemond. Aemond widened his legs and gestured for Jace to sit on his lap. Jace sat on one of Aemond’s thighs, wrapping his arm around Aemond’s shoulders. 

“It’s alright, a lot better than the shit from King’s Landing.” noted Aemond, chewing on the dry meat. He rubbed Jace’s back and looked into the fire. “I wouldn’t mind living a life like this.” he said with a deep exhale. 

“Oh? A nomad?” smirked Jace, “But one who was given food, clothes, and also two dragons to protect us.” Aemond looked up at Jace with a serious face, 

“Exactly.” he smiled and reached up to kiss Jace on his lips, “And, I have you. So, it’s perfect.” 

“I wouldn’t mind going on more camping adventures like this,” noted the brown haired prince, “just to get away from home.” Aemond raised the jerky up to Jace, and Jace took a bite. There was a cool breeze coming from up the river and Jace looked up in the sky. The clouds were clearing slowly, and the sun was beginning to set. The sky was turning a deep violet and orange color. Aemond looked up at the sky as well, admiring the sunset with his prince. 

After finishing their small meal, Aemond and Jace laid down on top of their sleepsacks. Aemond kept his sword right at his side, between him and the fire. The top of the sleepsack was made with animal fur, providing warmth to them as they laid on it shirtless. The two boys laid on their sides, facing one another. 

Aemond ran his fingers through Jace’s curly hair, occasionally grazing his fingers across the top of his ear, cupping his face. Jace closed his eyes as Aemond caressed him, enjoying the sensual touch. 

“You shouldn’t be mad at your mother,” said Aemond softly. Jace opened his eyes. “She’s doing her duty.” 

“That’s the thing,” said Jace, “she has put aside being a mother and solely acts as the Queen.” 

“That is her responsibility now,” Aemond said. Jace shakes his head disappointedly. He starts to rub Aemond’s chest, which immediately begins to comfort him. Jace then reached up to Aemond’s face, caressing his cheek before taking off his eyepatch. 

“We all have to do what we must.” added Aemond, and Jace shook his head again, understanding. Jace didn’t say another word. He moved up to Aemond to lay on his chest, and Aemond laid on his back. Aemond held Jace in his arm, slowly caressing his upper arm. They looked up into the night sky. As the clouds cleared, they could see the stars beginning to appear from the setting sun. 

Aemond’s ears perked upon hearing a rustling in the woods and bushes. He held his breath, and listened. The rustling got louder and he heard a branch snap. Aemond looked, seeing three silhouettes of men emerging from the woods. He and Jace rolled out of the sleepsack immediately. Aemond leapt to his feet, grabbing his sword and holding it with both hands. 

Three bandit-appearing thieves walked out of the forest, they were dirtied, wearing torn, rag-like clothing. 

“Sleeping well, boys?” said the first thief in the middle of the three, he had long black hair. He carried a sword with jagged edges, it was stained in dried blood. 

“Oh looky, look,” said the second thief, “he’s a Targaryen! Look at that hair.” he growled, eyeing Aemond with manically wide eyes. “Oh and look at that sapphire…” he admired the deep blue sapphire in Aemond’s eye. 

“Begone or else!” shouted Jace, holding out his sword as well. 

“Or what, cocksucker?” the first thief taunted, “Have some cock and balls to get back to?” Aemond lunged at the black haired thief, swinging his sword from his left side. The black haired thief stepped back and blocked Aemond’s attack. The second thief leapt at Jace, swinging like a madman with his longsword. Jace stumbled back from the heavy strike but managed to hold his ground slightly. The third thief joined the first in attacking Aemond, and now the silver haired prince fought against two. 

Aemond had to shift his blocks from the third and first thief, staying light on his feet. The first thief lunged forward again, swinging his sword downward from over his head. Aemond held out his sword parallel to the ground, pushing back the first thief. The thief pressed down hard and gritted his teeth with rage. Aemond looked over his shoulder briefly, seeing Jace struggle against the second thief with the longsword. Aemond inhaled deeply and pushed back the first thief. He swung at the third, and then leapt to the second that focused on Jace. 

Aemond drove his sword through the thief’s back, killing him in front of Jace. With Aemond’s back turned, one of the other thieves sliced their sword up and across Aemond’s back. Aemond grunted in pain, falling over to the ground. 

“Aemond!” called Jace, but before he could even ascertain Aemond’s wounds, Jace had to stand over Aemond to protect him. The last two thieves watched Jace with grins on their faces, ready to pounce on him now. Aemond tried to get up behind Jace. He felt blood dripping down his back. 

Suddenly, a crashing sound through woods got louder and louder, entire trees and branches snapping like twigs. The two remaining thieves turned around, seeing a massive green dragon stampeding on all four limbs through the woods. Vhagar roared deafeningly loud over the two thieves. The men stared up in utter fear. One of them began to run in the opposite direction, but skidded to a stop as Vermithor landed thunderously near Jace, opposite of Vhagar. Dirt and mud kicked into the air upon Vermithor’s near-crash landing. 

“Seven fucking bloody hells!” screamed the thief facing Vhagar. Vhagar opened her massive jaw, arching downward to bite the man whole, swallowing him up. Vermithor roared in the face of the last thief, who dropped his sword and began fleeing into the woods. 

Jace helped Aemond sit up and the silver haired prince tried standing. 

“No, don’t,” insisted Jace. Aemond held out his hands and arms, and Jace looked at him. There were small trails of blood running down his arms from his shoulders as Aemond stood still. Jace shuffled through his bag taking out a rag and an old tunic shirt. He guided Aemond to the river bank. 

Jace drenched the rag in the cold water and went back to Aemond quickly, turning him around to dab at the wound. Jace was stunned to see the length of the cut, it ran from the top of Aemond’s right shoulder, diagonally down his back to the left side of his back’s mid-section. Jace lightly patted the wound, luckily it wasn’t too deep. The blood soaked the rag and Jace continued to clean him. He then used the dry old shirt to dry Aemond’s cut. 

“Are you alright?” Aemond asks Jace, while Jace continues to clean his back. 

“I’m fine,” he said, clearing his throat. Aemond winced upon Jace’s touch near the top of his back, it was where the cut was deepest and continued to bleed. Jace helped Aemond walk back to the fire and helped him sit down on the sleepsack. Jace took out a light pair of trousers from his bag and ripped them in half, separating the pants from one another. As Aemond sat down, Jace sat on his knees beside him. He tied the long pant to his old shirt and then wrapped it around Aemond. He wrapped it from under his arm, across the deepest portion of his cut on his back, and back around his chest to tie it. Aemond swore under his breath from the pain. 

“I’m sorry,” said Jace quietly. 

“No, it’s not you.” exhaled Aemond. He rubbed Jace’s thigh. Jace’s eyes scanned Aemond’s torso as he sat, he felt terrible about the wound, but was relieved the makeshift bandage stopped the bleeding. Jace held his head low and looked into the fire. By now, both of their dragons had fallen asleep. Vhagar had fallen asleep in the woods that she partially destroyed and flattened, and Vermithor up on a small grassy hill. 

“I would have taken their heads,” muttered Aemond, “those fuckers.” Jace continued to look into the fire, letting Aemond ramble. Aemond reached to touch Jace’s hand in his lap, holding it tightly. 

“I nearly got you killed.” said Jace in a low voice. 

“No you did not.” 

“Yes I did.” argued Jace. The golden fire reflected in Jace’s dark eyes as Aemond looked at him. 

“What matters is that you are safe, and alive.” insisted Aemond. He pulled Jace’s hand towards his body. Jace slowly moved closer to Aemond, sitting between his legs, and resting his head on Aemond’s chest. Aemond wrapped his arms around Jace and kissed him on his cheek. The two continued to look into the fire. “Get some sleep,” said Aemond. 

“I won’t be able to.” 

“I’ll keep watch,” Aemond replied, holding Jace’s hands. Jace yawned, he was tired, and he felt comforted by laying in Aemond’s arms. The fire kept them both warm and continued to burn.  

Daeron

Brimstone River, Dorne

The Brimstone River was located on the western half of Dorne, beginning at the southern seaboard at the Summer Sea and ventured north by about two hundred miles. About one hundred eighty miles north from the mouth of the river sat the castle of Hellholt. The river created a natural basin along its edges, nourishing sparse wooded areas, tall palms, and dry foliage, jutting straight through the Dornish desert. 

The Tyrell host made camp at the very start of the Brimstone, where a natural spring formed a shallow lake at the base of a sandy hill. The camp was on the western side of the lake and river, and as soon as night had fallen, the soldiers went to rest. 

Daeron had his own tent that was right at the water’s edge. He could hear the soft movement of small waves that rolled onto the sandy beach. The tent was small and short, he would not be able to stand up in it, and was just big enough to sleep in. He slept shirtless and in his underwear, still feeling hot from the full day of traveling. Even though summer was coming to an end in Westeros, Dorne still felt as if it were the dead of summer. The night’s were just barely cooler, but did provide a more consistent breeze. 

Daeron laid on his back and opened his eyes, seeing the shadow of a palm tree on the top of his tent. The palm tree swayed slowly and gracefully in the light wind, its large palm fan leaves rustling gently against one another. Beside him was a large sack where he had his clothes for the trip, his boots, and a small, thin, sword on the ground. 

Daeron wiped sweat off of his forehead and sighed with irritation. He had enough of the heat and crawled out of his tent to go outside. Daeron stood up, feeling the cool air against his chest and back. He didn’t hear much from any other tents around him, the closest tent was about ten meters away anyway. There were a few crackling fires that would soon burn out, with light plumes of smoke rising into the night sky. The Prince turned towards the water and walked down the beach. 

His feet and toes squished between the soft, cold, sand as he approached the water. Daeron walked into the lake and cupped some water to cool down his legs. He then cupped more water to wash his face and slick back his hair. Daeron looked across the stillness of the water’s surface, to the hill where the natural springs were located. The water was bubbling at the base of the hill, near a wide rock formation. Daeron decided to continue into the water, swimming through the lake, towards the spring. 

The Prince could not remember the last time he went swimming, it had to be years. There were times he swam in the Bay of Oldtown, but then he was caught by his grandfather and was forbidden to do so again. 

As Daeron approached the natural springs, he realized there had to be geysers underneath the water. The water became far warmer, and it felt soothing to his muscles. He looked below, he could not see past the stream of bubbles, and could not tell how deep the water had become. Daeron continued to swim, swimming through the stream of bubbles that came from below, and headed for the grotto-like rock formation. 

The rock formation was nearly like a cave, with a higher part of the rocks arching over the water, providing some seclusion. Daeron swam into the grotto, hearing much stronger streams of water from below. He could see the bubbling at the surface of the water and decided to float on his back, with his feet over the bubbles. The streams of water were strong and forceful, and it massaged his feet. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing massaging from the jet-like geysers. 

Daeron opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, out of the shallow grotto, onto the water. He then swam over to the edge of the geyser, feeling the powerful streams of water soaring upward, grazing against his bulge. He treaded water at the edge of the geyser, and slid down his underwear with one hand. Daeron held out his cock in the stream, and his cock grew hard quickly from the constant massaging of the forceful water. 

The Prince slowly stroked the base of his dick, holding out the tip in the geyser. His cock throbbed as it was being massaged from below. Daeron swam a bit closer into the geyser, and the forceful water pushed up against his balls. Daeron began thrusting his hips instinctively, and jerked his cock. Daeron groaned and his body convulsed as he felt himself orgasming. Daeron jerked his cock hard, shooting out cum into the water, and exhaled deeply with relief. The Prince laid back in the water, floating on his back, feeling the geyser massage his back and buttocks. He hadn’t felt so relieved before, like a massive pressure relieved from his cock and balls. 

Daeron swam back to the camp, having pulled back up his underwear, and headed straight for his tent. He slowly walked out of the water, wringing the water out of his long hair over his chest and shoulder. He felt his underwear clinging to his ass and his softened, round, bulge. He squeezed the lower ends of his underwear, squeezing out more water. 

Daeron crawled into his tent to dry himself on his sleep sack. He laid on his back, resting his hands behind his head, closing his eyes, and let out a deep breath. 

Daeron heard the shuffle of footsteps, they were moving quickly. He figured a knight was nearly pissing himself and had to relieve himself. He heard the sound of a tarp being ripped open and the drawing of a sword. Daeron’s eyes shot open. There was a muffled grunting and struggle, and then he heard the sound of flesh being cut. The sound of countless horses sprinting became louder and louder, and the angry shouts of men. Daeron scrambled for his pants, putting them on quickly, and grabbed his sword. 

A man’s scream filled the air. Daeron rushed out of his tent. He looked towards the main area of the camp, tents were being tossed over by Dornishmen on horses. The Tyrell men were being killed in their sleep, or killed while they try to get up and find their weapons. As Dornishmen burst through with their horses, they swung their swords at the Tyrell men's heads, decapitating them. Daeron held his sword out in a defensive position, looking around. He felt sick in his stomach upon seeing at least two decapitations. Along the lakeside, from the south along the river, there were a stampede of Dornishmen on horses. His heart began to race, he needed to find Tessarion. 

As Daeron ran along the beach, the sound of murderous screams and slashing of flesh only grew louder. He saw some Tyrell men manage to find their swords and shields, trying to fight off the hit-and-run tactics of the Dornish. As the enemy sprinted on their horses through the camp, some Tyrell men managed to swing their swords at the enemies’ horses, cutting their legs and sending the enemy flying onto the sand. 

Daeron continued to run. 

“Tessarion!” he called desperately. A loud screech wailed from above, and Daeron felt relieved hearing his dragon. He looked up, Tessarion was circling above and searching for a place to land. Tents all around Daeron were being lit up in flames, fires growing larger. Tessarion dove down to the beach, landing a few meters ahead of Daeron. Daeron ran as fast as he could, hearing the trotting of a horse from behind. 

He looked over his shoulder. There was a single Dornishman on a horse coming straight for him, with a sword held low and held back, ready to swing. Daeron sprinted faster towards Tessarion. The small blue dragon reared up on her hind legs, spreading her wings wide open as the Dornishman approached them. The horse became terrified and turned at the last moment just before reaching Daeron. 

“You’re a godsend, Tessarion,” said Daeron as he desperately climbed onto Tessarion. As Daeron got on his dragon, he heard Meleys’ high pitched roar. 

“Soves!” ordered Daeron, and Tessarion quickly lifted off into the sky, flying low over the camp. Daeron looked around, the Tyrell men were managing to fend off the straggling Dornishmen. However, there were numerous trampled and massacred bodies, crushed by horses, burnt alive from the growing fires. Daeron looked up ahead to his right, towards the other end of the camp and saw Meleys on the ground. She was swinging her thick tail at five Dornishmen and their horses as they tried to surround her. 

He then spotted Rhaenys climbing onto Meleys. Meleys, however, remained on the ground. Even standing on four limbs, she towered over any man and horse. Meleys let out a wide fanning of flames, burning the fallen Dornishmen. To his left, Daeron could see the remaining Dornishmen and their horses continuing on through the desert, fleeing the scene. He gripped onto Tessarion’s saddle tightly, rage coming over himself. He stared at the fleeing Dornishmen, there were over three dozen of them, fleeing in a pack. They even left behind some of their own men at the camp, fending for themselves against the Tyrell host. 

Tessarion let out a scattered call, he recognized it as a call to another dragon. She was calling out to Meleys. Tessarion craned her head to look back at Meleys. 

“No, onward, Tessarion.” commanded Daeron angrily, “Dohaeras.” 

“Where is he going?” Ser Gwayne Hightower rode up to Rhaenys on Meleys with his horse. The two were still wearing their nightly clothes, with Rhaenys in a long night robe and loose pants. Gwayne was shirtless and held his sword down the horse’s side. Meleys was grumbling and growling, scanning the environment from side to side for any remaining enemies. 

“I don’t know,” said Rhaenys, “that’s the direction the enemies were headed.” she said. The elder Princess and Gwayne exchanged a look of concern to one another. Before Gwayne could say anything, Rhaenys ordered Meleys to take flight. The massive red dragon ran out into the open desert, extending her blood-red wings to take off. Rhaenys heaved at her reins, circling Meleys towards the direction Daeron was flying. 

Tessarion flapped her wings hard and quickly to catch up to the fleeing Dornishmen. There were about forty of them, all on horses, sprinting as quick as they could through the open desert dunes. Daeron leaned forward intently, and Tessarion began to dive. 

A few of the Dornishmen looked over their shoulders, surprised to see the small blue dragon quickly approaching, and low to the ground. 

“Angos, Tessarion!” ordered the Prince. As Tessarion flew above the rear of the Dornish pack, she extended her claws to yank two adjacent Dornishmen off their horses. She dug her thick black claws into their armor and flesh, and they screamed in agony. Tessarion did not have the strength to carry them for long, so she released them and let them tumble through the sand. She then approached five more men, unleashing a blaze of flames upon them. The men and horses shrieked in unison. Tessarion began to ascend a few meters to catch the wind under her wings. 

Meleys bellowed from behind. Daeron looked over his shoulder. The Red Queen was quickly approaching, far faster than Tessarion. Rhaenys’ profile was low on her dragon as they sliced through the air swiftly. Meleys surpassed Tessarion, flying over the remaining thirty-or-so Dornishmen. Meleys banked to her right and held her head low. She blasted a wall of flames in front of the Dornishmen. Some of the horses and their Dornish riders did not stop in time, going right into the flames and being burned alive. Others skidded to a stop, and Meleys continued to circle overhead. She blasted more flames around the Dornishmen. As the stream of fire hit the ground, clouds of sand flung into the air, creating a small sandstorm. 

Tessarion flew out of Meleys’ way, and Daeron watched. As he circled around the enemy that was now trapped in an enclosure of fire, he saw his own knights approaching on their own horses. Rhaenys landed Meleys outside the wall of the flames, growling at the enemy men. Rhaenys remained mounted on her dragon, waiting for reinforcements to arrive. 

Daeron understood what the elder Princess had done now. He did not think they should capture the enemy, he wanted to burn them right then and there. 

Aegon

Royal Residence

The Red Keep

Aegon sat with his feet up on the tea table as he sat on one of the couches in the living room of the royal residence, drinking a full goblet of wine, and enjoying the company of three of his friends. The three young men were all around Aegon’s age, with the oldest being twenty-one, and a knight. The knight, Ser Carden Mallister, had recently become a part of Aegon’s Kingsguard, yet the two trained for sword fighting and defense together as young as six years old. Ser Carden had long black hair, half of it up in a tied bun, and the lower half resting on his shoulders. 

“And this brothel in Brindlewood,” continued Carden, waving his cup of wine as he recounted his story, “you would not believe the breasts on these bitches. Couldn’t get my face or cock out of them." The two others, just squires, were deeply intrigued with Carden’s story. The first squire, named Blane Dorbin, had light brown hair. The second, Loran Saltwell, had golden wavy hair that reached just past his ears. 

“Hm, I never really cared too much about breast size,” noted Aegon, “what matters is down below.” he stuck his tongue out and wriggled it, “The wetter the better.” 

“I heard Pentos has some extravagant and exquisite brothels,” said Blane Dorbin. 

“You find every brothel you go to as exquisite,” laughed Ser Carden. 

“Trust me,” Blane held out his hand, “not a single Westerosi brothel has men whores in them, and men mounting men.” the laughter and chatter ceased. Aegon gulped his wine nervously, staring at Blane. Blane now felt awkward, clearing his throat, 

“Let’s not act like we’ve never heard of such a thing.” he said with a nervous chuckle. 

“Did you ever participate?” asked Aegon, leaning forward and putting his feet on the floor. He was curious. 

“No, only watched. I enjoy being a spectator at times.” answered the brown haired squire. 

“Would you try it?” asked Loran. 

“Depends,” Blane shrugged his shoulders, “if I was fucking or if I was being fucked.” 

“I mean, what man would want to take a cock up his ass,” scoffed Loran. 

“Some do,” said Aegon. 

“To me,” continued Blane, “getting off is just getting off.” 

“There’s nothing better than a wet cunt.” said Ser Carden, pouring more wine into his cup from the glass pitcher. 

“If there’s something tighter,” Aegon shrugged his shoulders, “why not?” the other men laughed. Prince Aegon did not mean to make a joke, and looked at the men laughing. He started to wonder what Rhaenyra told him the other day - that she saw Aemond’s eye patch in Jace’s room - specifically his bed. His mind started to wander about what they could possibly be doing in bed together. Who was the fucker and who was the fucked? 

“I could see that a man would know what a man likes, though,” said Blane. It appeared as if he were reasoning with the idea of fucking a man. 

The door to the residence opened quickly and the Queen entered the room. The knight and the two squires immediately jumped to their feet, standing tall for the Queen. 

“Your grace,” they said in unison. 

“Good afternoon,” smiled Rhaenyra tiredly. Aegon slowly got up and took in a deep breath,

“Let’s continue this another time, boys.” he said. The three young men put down their cups on the tea table and headed out the door, bowing their heads to Rhaenyra as they exited. Ser Harrold shut the door as the last young man left, and Rhaenyra plopped herself onto the same couch as Aegon. She leaned her head back and rubbed her forehead. 

“Everything alright, my love?” he asked, sitting down next to her. He started rubbing her thigh. 

“My feet ache, and my head feels like it’s been banged up against a stone wall.” she said lightly. Aegon picked up Rhaenyra’s feet, swinging her legs to rest on his lap. He took off her shoes carefully. 

“Small Council?” he asked curiously. He dropped her black shoes onto the floor and started massaging Rhaenyra’s feet. Rhaenyra rested her head on the armrest at the other end of the couch, and looked at her husband. 

“Small Council. Court. Small Council again.” she exhaled, “My plans to reform the government, or at least expand it, have been met with constant doubting, questioning, and concerns.” 

“From who?” asked Aegon. 

“Mostly Beesbury and Wylde.” she answered, “And I told Wylde first, before anyone else. He was receptive to the idea. Then it seems after a few more sessions, he has grown rather opposed to it.” 

“Hmm,” Aegon grumbled, rubbing his hands further up Rhaenyra’s legs under her dress, feeling up to her shin and knee. “I never liked those two. They’re pretentious pricks to think they know more than everyone in the room.” 

“Wylde - yes, he can be pretentious.” agreed Rhaenyra, “But Beesbury… he’s just an old man, stuck in tradition.” 

“Should I attend the next meeting, jump in your defense?” asked the Prince Consort. Rhaenyra smiled sweetly at her husband.

“You don’t have to, I can handle them on my own. Perhaps I should recall Rhaenys, give her a break from the battlefront.” said the Queen, letting out a deep breath. 

“I mean, you don’t have to only depend on Rhaenys.” noted Aegon, slowing his rubbing of Rhaenyra’s legs. 

“It’s fine, Aegon.” she said. 

“It’s not like I know nothing about government and law.” Rhaenyra opened her eyes and stared at Aegon. She sat up and pulled her legs out of Aegon’s grasp. 

“It’s not about that.” she replied coldly. 

“Then what is it?” Aegon said impatiently, “Am I not intelligent enough? Or am I just the meathead consort of the Queen?” 

“Aegon,” scoffed Rhaenyra, shaking her head. 

“I know how you rely on Rhaenys and Alicent, they are truly your inner council.” said Aegon sternly. 

“What is on your mind?” she scooted across the couch, sitting beside her husband, and touched his hand that rested on his lap. “Talk to me.” 

“Forget it,” sighed Aegon. 

“No, tell me.” she insisted. Aegon took in a deep breath and looked at his wife uncomfortably, 

“I feel … I feel like you think I cannot contribute to these meetings. Just because I’ve never sat on Small Council when father was alive.” he let Rhaenyra caress his hand with her own, glancing down at her hand. “Even when it comes to battle strategy, you take Aemond more seriously than me.” 

“That is not true.” said Rhaenyra shaking her head, “Aemond has the biggest dragon in the world, that is what I use him for. And think why I sent you to Dorne to begin with,” she leaned in closer to Aegon, “you’re a quick thinker, you’re determined to get the job done, and even though you can be a bit reckless, you are fiercely loyal. Aemond does not listen well.” 

Aegon’s head was low as he looked down at his hands being held by Rhaenyra’s. He was moved by his wife’s words, but he still felt a little insecure about his intelligence. 

“Come to the Small Council tomorrow. Defend me if you feel the need to.” she said confidently. Aegon looked up and gave a small smile, 

“Oh how I want to tear Wylde to shreds,” he said and Rhaenyra broke into a light laughter. Rhaenyra caressed Aegon’s cheek, just how he liked. She pushed back some of his hair behind his ear, seeing his face more clearly. She leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on Aegon’s lips. 

“Do not ever speak so lowly of yourself, Aegon.” she said, “You are the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, husband of the Queen.” 

Aemond & Jacaerys

Stoney Sept

Princes Aemond and Jacaerys were slowly making their way southeast across the Riverlands as they headed in the direction of King’s Landing, and decided to make a stop at the walled town of Stoney Sept. The town, under the direct control of House Tully, was named after the old Sept located at the center of the town on a hill. The town sat near the Blackwater Rush, which crossed the interior of the continent eastward, all the way to King’s Landing. The sept itself was composed of a long stone abbey, a small keep, and three cylindrical towers. In front of the sept was a large plaza where most of the town’s vendors, merchants, and traders came to do their business. The town saw heavy economic and commercial traffic since it sat on one of the most important rivers in the Seven Kingdoms, and served as an entryway to the Westerlands since it sat on the border. There were countless vendor stalls, goods being sold from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms. The residents of Stoney Sept were in for a surprise upon seeing the arrival of two enormous dragons that flew overhead quite low. It was not normal to see any of the Targaryens in the area, and the smallfolk became alerted. 

Prince Aemond walked alongside Prince Jacaerys as they walked through one of the main roads leading from the main gate of Stoney Sept, into the town. They were given stares and subtle pointing by the smallfolk they passed by on the street. Women huddled side by side, gossiping and whispering about the Princes. Aemond was instantly recognizable due to his hair color, and that he wore an eyepatch. 

The two young men walked into a general store, finally away from the busy main street. Inside was a heavyset woman seated behind a long counter, dozing off. She had to be middle-aged, her hair long and brown and covered with a cloth veil. There were about twenty shelves in rows that had sparse supplies. There were mostly jars of preserved foods, meats, jerky, dried cheeses, cases of water and ale. As the door slowly closed, it rang a bell above the doorway. The woman jolted awake and jumped to her feet upon seeing Aemond. 

“Good afternoon,” she said nervously. She was entirely unsure how to address the two young men, “my prince.” she eyed Aemond. 

“Princes.” corrected Aemond, walking up to the counter, “Do you sell bandages?” he asked. 

“Uh, yes, I do.” she walked around the side of the counter, disappearing between some of the tall shelves. Aemond and Jace followed her through the small store. The wooden floorboards creaked as they walked across them. There was a moldy smell in the shop, the ceiling had cracked and splintered wooden panels, and the stone walls were cracked from old age. 

“Are you boys - I mean, my princes, alright? Either of you hurt?” she asked, peeking down an aisle, scanning the shelves as she looked from afar. She proceeded down to the next aisle, and started walking down it. Aemond and Jace followed her from a distance. 

“Yes.” answered Aemond coldly. 

“We were attacked in the woods while camping.” answered Jace bluntly. The woman turned around with a disappointed and worried look on her face, “Thieves. Three of them.” he said. The woman held her hands to her chest as she gasped. 

“Which one of you is hurt?” she asked. She found a wrap of white cloth, bringing it over to Aemond and Jace. 

“Him,” Jace eyed Aemond. 

“I’m fine.” said Aemond coldly. He reached into his satchel for a small bag of gold, “Now, how much?”  

“No please, take it, my princes.” she insisted, holding out the wrap. She bowed her head as she held out the wrap. Aemond took the wrap and stuffed it in his satchel. Aemond walks past the woman, ready to leave. 

“You are too kind,” said Jace sweetly to the woman as he walked past her. Aemond stormed out of the shop. As Jace followed, he left a few gold coins on the counter for the woman. He quickly chased after Aemond into the street.  

...

The two princes paid for a room at an inn that sat on the second floor above a tavern. They had enough of spending their nights out in the wild. Jacaerys tried sleeping last night after they were attacked, but he didn’t get any rest. He was half-awake all throughout the night, and he knew Aemond stayed up as well. 

As Aemond sat on the edge of one of the beds in the old inn room, Jacaerys sat on the center of the bed, behind him. Aemond had his shirt off and sat still as Jace cleaned his wound with water and a fresh towel. Jace parted Aemond’s long silver blond hair and laid his hair down his chest, clearing up his back. They bought a miniscule jar of an ointment with similar properties to milk of the poppy from an herbal medicinal shop. It was green-gray in color and would provide some numbness to the pain, and additionally aid in the prevention of bacteria growth on the wound. Jace carefully dabbed the ointment along the long cut on Aemond’s back. 

“I know you were awake all night last night.” noted Jace. He was halfway down Aemond’s cut with the ointment. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said shortly. 

“Neither could I.” replied Jace, “Even with Vhagar and Vermithor around us, I had this eerie feeling of being watched, and that they’d return.” 

“That wasn’t why I didn’t sleep,” said Aemond. 

“What was the reason?” asked Jace. Aemond was quiet. He took in a deep breath and then exhaled. 

“For you being called a cocksucker.” said the silver haired prince, “And one of them got away.” Jace finished applying the ointment and wiped his hands on the towel. He sat still for a moment, with the bandages still wrapped in his lap. 

“It means nothing,” said Jace softly. 

“I wanted to rip out his throat with my bare hands,” hissed Aemond angrily. Jace began to unwrap the white bandage cloth. He handed one end to Aemond to hold it at his chest, and he started wrapping it around his torso, slowly covering the majority of his wound. 

“I swear to you, it’s nothing.” insisted Jace. Jace tucked the end of the bandage into one of the folds and Aemond instantly turned around to face him. 

“It’s not nothing to me.” urged Aemond. Jace sighed and lowered his head. He started to pick at his own fingernails. 

“As soon as we return home,” started Jace, “all of this comes to an end.” 

“That’s not true.” Aemond leaned closer to Jace, trying to look into his eyes directly. 

“Helaena surely knows about us two. I’ll marry her, put a babe in her, and that’ll be that.” said Jacaerys. 

“But this won’t end.” Aemond grabbed Jace’s thigh, “It won’t. I won’t let it.” 

“We have to be realistic, Aemond.” 

“We are constantly in this loop, always coming back to this conversation.” Aemond shifted on the bed to face Jacaerys fully. 

“Because that is the reality of the world we live in. We have these moments of joy and freedom but it is to no avail because the truth of the matter is that this will get us killed.” Jacaerys’ eyes began to tear up. He looked away from Aemond. He knew that if he looked into Aemond’s eye, he would not be able to stop himself from weeping. 

“You are the Prince of Dragonstone, you will be the King, and you get to decide the way the world should be.” Aemond said, he squeezed Jace’s hand. Jace continued to look away and closed his eyes. A tear rolled down his cheek, down to his jaw. Aemond pulled Jace’s chin so they would face one another. 

“Did you hear me?” asked Aemond, his eye wide. Jace did not respond, nor did he nod his head. He only stared deeply into Aemond’s blue eye. “We have the biggest dragons in the world, and I know I keep reminding you that, but think of the possibilities. You are unchallengeable. We are unchallengeable.” 

“You once said that we can’t. I said it too, I know. And you said that nobody can know. You were right.” cried Jace, a few more tears rolled down his cheek. Aemond felt his heart skip a beat, painfully. He remembered saying that. He remembered hearing Jace say it to him. It was the day they were in the royal library, alone. 

“I was wrong,” whispered Aemond, shaking his head slightly, “I was wrong.” he said confidently, with a louder voice. He squeezed Jace’s hands harder, “ I. Was. Wrong.” he emphasized. Jace lowered his head once again, sniffling and taking in a deep breath. A tear fell onto Aemond’s hand. Aemond looked down at the tear that rested on the back of his hand. He could not stand seeing Jacaerys in this emotional state. 

“Say something,” whispered Aemond. 

“What I’d say would only worsen things.” muttered Jace, “Best to keep that locked away.” 

“I won’t.” said Aemond, “I love you, Jacaerys.” Jace looked up at Aemond. The two stared at one another deeply. Jace opened his mouth slightly, searching for the courage to speak. He instead leaned forward and kissed Aemond on his lips, moving his hands to Aemond’s face to hold him closely. Jacaerys kissed Aemond longingly, then releasing him to look at him, 

“I love you, Aemond.” Aemond crawled up onto the bed, looming over Jacaerys. Jace sat back in the narrow bed, letting Aemond climb over him. Aemond gave short kisses to Jace, starting at his lips, moving down his neck, from one side to the other. As Aemond kissed Jace, he started to unzip his coat, pushing it off of Jace. Aemond slid his hands underneath Jace’s belt, untucking his shirt and lifting it off his body. Jace lifted his head to take off his shirt and threw it onto the floor. 

Jace reached down below to Aemond’s waist, unbuttoning his dark gray trousers. Simultaneously, Aemond worked at Jace’s pants, pulling them off as well. They moved quickly and impatiently, tossing their clothes onto the floor. 

As soon as they were both naked, Aemond laid his body fully on top of Jacaerys, and between the brown haired prince’s legs. Aemond thrusted his hips into Jace, grinding his cock against Jace’s cock. Jace put his hand on Aemond’s shoulder, remembering his wound, and he stopped. 

“Aren’t you in pain?” 

“No,” Aemond said, continuing to kiss Jace, “it doesn’t matter.” He held his face low and close to Jace. Jacaerys lifted his hands to Aemond’s face, carefully taking off his eyepatch. He rubbed his thumb across Aemond’s scarred cheek and then ran his fingers through Aemond’s silver blond hair. Aemond caressed Jace’s hair as well, admiring his eyes and lips for a moment. The two continued to look into each other’s eyes longingly. 

Aemond then sat up on his knees and spread Jace’s legs open. Aemond spit on his hand and rubbed the saliva against Jace’s hole. With his other hand, he slowly stroked Jace’s cock. Aemond spit again in his hand and continued to lube Jace’s hole. He slid a finger inside of Jace and began to thrust it deeply. Jace groaned softly as he was being fingered. Aemond took out his fingers and placed the head of his cock at Jace’s hole. Aemond rubbed his cock around Jace’s hole, spreading the precum dripping from his cock. Aemond then slowly pushed his dick inside of Jace, without stopping, inserting inch by inch until he was fully inside of Jace. 

Jace closed his eyes and groaned as Aemond opened him up. Aemond lowered his torso over Jace, and the two embraced one another. Aemond grazed his lips across Jace's lips as the brown haired prince continued to breathe heavily. Aemond began thrusting, sliding his thick meat in and out of Jace’s lubricated hole. With each thrust, Jace moaned softly, reaching for Aemond’s kisses. Jacaerys held his arms around Aemond’s back and back of his neck, keeping him low to his own body. 

Aemond panted lightly as he fucked Jace steadily. 

“Oh yes,” whispered Jace, “please,” he whimpered. 

“You’re mine,” whispered Aemond, “all mine. Only mine.” he continued to fuck sensually. Jace opened his eyes and stared into Aemond’s eye, and they did not break eye contact. Both began to realize that fucking in missionary was their favorite position to be in. They could kiss one another, feel each other’s bodies, their chests, arms, faces. Jace slid his hands down Aemond’s flexing biceps, down his thin waist, to his thrusting ass cheeks. Jace squeezed Aemond’s ass, pulling him deeper each time Aemond thrusted inward. 

“Oh Aemond,” moaned Jace, “keep going, I’m going to cum soon.” Aemond panted and glanced down at Jace’s cock. His cock was dripping with precum all over his lower abdomen, rubbing on Aemond’s abs. Jace’s cock looked ready to burst, and Aemond wanted to do it himself. Aemond started thrusting faster and deeper, 

“Cum for me, Jace.” he whispered in Jace’s ear. 

“Fuck me,” moaned Jace, holding Aemond down against his body, “Oh god yes, I’m cumming.” cried out Jace. Aemond felt Jace’s cum squirt out of his cock and shoot between their torsos and chest. Aemond smiled, feeling himself about to ejaculate. 

“Oh fuck yes,” grunted Aemond, “fuck, Jace,” Aemond thrusted hard and slowed down, feeling his cock shoot forcefully inside of Jace’s hole. His pelvis twitched as he continued cumming, closing his eyes from the deep pleasure. Jace held Aemond close against his body as he finished cumming. The two let out deep breaths of relief and satisfaction. Aemond laid motionless on top of Jace, his cock still inside of his prince. 

“You are everything to me.” whispered Jace into Aemond’s ear. Aemond lifted his head and looked at Jace. He kissed Jace softly, 

“And you are everything to me.” 

Chapter Text

The Small Council

The Red Keep

“Six hundred thirty two men were killed the night of the Dornish ambush at the Brimstone, out of the total two thousand men that were camped.” reported Grand Maester Orwyle, reading from a small scroll he received from their military forces in Dorne. The Small Council table was quiet as the Grand Maester gave his report to the Queen. The Queen sat silently at the head of the table, tapping her fingers of her right hand nervously on the surface of the table. 

“The Tyrell host has also received help from Prince Daeron,” continued Orwyle, “he guided the men through the Prince’s Pass. Near the end of the Pass, Princess Rhaenys arrived on her dragon as well to provide support. Lastly, with the two dragons, the castle of Skyreach is now under Targaryen control, your grace. If it weren’t for Prince Daeron, there would have been significantly more deaths in the Prince’s Pass.” Rhaenyra looked to her right, where next to the open seat that belonged to Rhaenys, sat Prince Aegon. 

“Did you know about your little brother going to Dorne?” she asked. At the Queen’s left sat Queen Alicent, and she was visibly anxious upon hearing the news of her youngest child being at the war front. 

“No, I did not,” said Aegon, looking around at the others at the table, “but Daeron has been known to have a… rebellious spirit.” 

“I did not realize his dragon was large enough for riding.” pondered the Queen. 

“He wasn’t, last he told me.” said Alicent with some irritation. The Dowager Queen looked over at Orwyle, “I want Daeron back in Oldtown.” She then glanced at Rhaenyra, her eyes conveying she wanted the Queen’s support. 

“Now let us wait a minute,” said Aegon, “before we make haste decisions. Daeron prevented a larger bloodbath in the Pass. And he helped take Skyreach.” 

“Daeron is spending his chances at luck,” insisted Alicent, “they’ll all be spent sooner rather than later.” 

“They must already be on their way to Hellholt by now,” argued Aegon calmly, “There isn’t time to send him a message.” Alicent lowered her head slightly and rubbed the bridge of her nose, between her eyes. 

“Daeron has proven his skill greatly, so far.” mentioned Rhaenyra gently. 

“He’s just a boy!” exclaimed Alicent loudly.

“He’s six-and-ten and a man.” combated Aegon, “He’s led thousands of men already. What more do you need for proof?” 

“I do not like this, that is all.” Alicent sat back in her chair, feeling defeated, “I disapprove.” 

“All of the following targets the Tyrell host is aiming for,” mentioned Lord Tyland Lannister, “are military targets. They’re castles. Soon enough, they’ll have to move to the towns, and the Queen did express her desire for not using dragons on towns. The young Prince would soon no longer be needed.” Alicent rolled her eyes subtly. She could not believe that Rhaenyra did not come to her side. The Queen herself said she did not want dragons involved, yet upon hearing Daeron arriving and saving the Tyrell host, she now was amenable to their involvement. 

…

Queen Rhaenyra walked beside Prince Aegon down a long corridor from the finished Small Council meeting, making their way to the throne room for court. The Queen wore a long black gown with gold embroidery at her low collar, down the center of her dress. The Prince wore a black coat and pants, with a gold chain hanging loose from shoulder to shoulder across his chest. 

“Do you think you will do anything about Daeron?” asked Aegon. 

“I am unsure,” exhaled Rhaenyra, “I am beginning to realize that dragons are crucial to victory in this war. I do not trust Aemond after what he did to Sunspear, Baela is also young to be at the battlefront - Jace and Helaena… they should be marrying soon.” Aegon stopped and reached for his Queen’s hand, stopping her as well. Rhaenyra turned to look up at her husband as they stood in the middle of the wide hallway. 

“Send me, I can go.” he said softly. Rhaenyra shook her head and scoffed, 

“No.” 

“I am serious, Rhaenyra.” he said, “If anything, send me to Dorne to get Daeron and make him return home… if that’s what you want to happen. I could be back within the week.” 

“I did not want to admit it in front of Alicent, but we are making good progress. Daeron must be contributing to that. And, I have to credit Princess Rhaenys.” she responded lightheartedly. 

“As much as I think Daeron is a grown man capable of fighting on his own,” sighed Aegon, “he is my little brother. And I do not like seeing my mother so… stressed.” 

“Are you sure about this?” she looked down at her hands being held by Aegon’s. Aegon nodded his head. “Then I grant you permission to leave. But, you are to go to Hellholt and only land if you see Targaryen and Tyrell banners flying.” 

Aegon leaned forward to kiss his wife on her lips, 

“Understood.” 

Aemond

King’s Landing

Prince Aemond landed Vhagar in an open pasture just outside the northern wall of King’s Landing. Vhagar was exhausted and relieved to be back home, quickly slumping her shoulder downward to let Aemond get down as fast as possible. As soon as Aemond climbed down from Vhagar’s saddle, the great green dragon’s head collapsed onto the grass and dirt, and she exhaled, closing her eyes to sleep. 

Aemond walked around Vhagar to head towards the city, and off in the distance, he could see Vermithor flying. Jacaerys was still on Vermithor and they were heading to the Dragonpit. The colossal structure stood high above the cityscape and walls, dominating its skyline from his point of view. Aemond slung his back over his shoulder and began walking to a dirt road that led to the city’s northeastern gate. He felt relieved that Jace was soon going to be in the city’s walls, met by Kingsguard at the Dragonpit, and would truly be safe. 

As soon as Aemond reached the Dragon Gate, since it loomed right at the foot of the hill that the Dragonpit was located, he was greeted by men of the Goldcloaks. The gate was already opened, as there was some light foot traffic of merchants and travelers coming in and out of the city. Aemond could immediately smell the stench of the slummed neighborhood in the area. It smelled of horseshit, smoke, and sewage. 

The Goldcloaks gave Aemond a horse, and the Prince was soon off trotting through the city, towards the Red Keep. As he continued through the city streets, Aemond only began to feel the sense of suffocation creeping back into his body and mind. The city felt so enclosed and trapping. The streets only got busier with more pedestrians crisscrossing the cobblestone roads, shouting to one another, children chasing after one another, Goldcloaks interrogating potential thieves and ne'er do wells. 

Aemond kept his eye on the Red Keep that soon got larger as he approached it. The Red Keep towered high above the rest of the city, seated on Aegon’s Hill. He hoped that Jacaerys had made it there already. 

Aemond thought of the day when the Red Keep would belong to Jacaerys, when he becomes King. He thought that perhaps it would belong to the both of them, both he and Jacaerys. Aemond pictured the golden crown of Jaehaerys being placed gently on Jacaerys’ head, on his soft brown curls. He could see Jace sitting on the Iron Throne… and he could see himself standing beside him at the base of the throne. 

Jacaerys

The Red Keep

Prince Jacaerys was reluctant to return to the Red Keep after his short journey to the Riverlands with Aemond. Being back home only meant one thing - his life was now back under total control by the Crown - his mother. He tried not to think too long about it, as it made him feel powerless and anxious. 

Jacaerys followed a knight of the Kingsguard, Ser Steffon Darklyn, through the Red Keep where he was being brought to his mother in one of the dining halls. It was around midday and he was hungry as well. 

Ser Steffon Darklyn introduced Jace as he opened the door to the dining room. As Jace walked in, he saw his mother seated at the head of the table, with his little brother Joffrey at her left side. They both had plates of food in front of them and both smiled upon seeing Jace. Joffrey pushed his chair back to run to Jace, leaping into his arms for a hug. 

“Jacey!” exclaimed Joffrey, hugging his older brother at his waist. Joffrey rubbed his brother’s back and scruffed his hair, kissing him on his forehead, 

“I missed you, Joff. Been good for mummy?” Joffrey looked up and nodded his head, 

“Of course, I am a prince after all.” he said. Jace chuckled and then greeted his mother. Rhaenyra stood up as Jace approached her and he kissed her on her cheek. 

“You look hungry,” said Rhaenyra. 

“Aye, I haven’t eaten much the last day or two.” sighed Jace, “Just meat jerky and apples.” Jace sat down at the right of Rhaenyra and the Queen gestured at one of her handmaidens to fetch a plate for the prince. The handmaiden swiftly left the room to get food for the eldest prince. 

“So, how was it in Riverrun?” asked Rhaenyra, sitting back in her chair as Jace sat down. Joffrey sat down and continued eating his meal, “I thought you’d return yesterday.” 

“It went well, very well,” nodded Jace, “got along well with Oscar Tully. The Riverlands are eager to support you in any way they can. And yes, we extended our stay by just a bit.” 

“Hm,” nodded Rhaenyra with intrigue, “that’s good. Is Oscar Tully as bold as they say he is?”

“Oh yes, very confident young man. He was made for leading the Riverlands.” Jace chuckles nervously. Rhaenyra nodded, and then there was some quiet between the mother and son. All they could hear was Joffrey’s faint chewing. Jacaerys held one hand on the table and began to tap his fingers. He craned his head to the door on the side of the room, where the handmaiden had scurried off to for his food. Joffrey looked up from his plate, he could sense the awkward tension between his brother and mother. 

“When we last spoke,” Rhaenyra broke the silence. Jace instantly remembered their fight when he stormed out of the Small Council. He gulped nervously and felt his muscles tense. “I do not want you to believe you never have a choice here.” 

“That’s how it felt.” said Jace lowly, looking down and away from his mother, “Ever since you became Queen, that’s how it has felt. And that just is how it is.” Rhaenyra felt saddened by his words. She could not prove otherwise that their lives changed when she became Queen - when they were all ordered to return from Dragonstone after years of living in a peaceful bliss. 

“Tell me,” continued Rhaenyra, “about Helaena. How are you feeling about her?” 

“What do you want me to say?” asked Jace in a slight scoffing tone. 

“I just want you to be honest with me.” she responded. 

“I have been, multiple times with you, and it has not gotten me anywhere.” Jace did not want to argue with his mother, so he kept his tone calm and steady. There would be no point in a blowup against her, like last time. Rhaenyra let out a deep breath, she hadn’t touched her food since Jace entered the room, and she pushed it away slightly. It seemed like there were only a few bites taken. 

“I…” Jace continued, “I do not have any … desire to be with her. The connection is gone, I think. It faded.” 

“That is alright,” said Rhaenyra gently, sitting up in her seat and leaning forward slightly, “is there a connection with someone else?” 

Jace faced forward and clenched his jaw, trying to keep his composure and his emotions in check. He nodded silently. Rhaenyra understood. The handmaiden finally returned to the dining room and placed a plate of food in front of Prince Jacaerys.

“Your father, Laenor,” said Rhaenyra, “he did not have a connection with just myself. It wasn’t the only one he had felt.” To Jace, it felt strange hearing about his “father”... Laenor. They rarely, if ever, spoke about him since his death six years ago. That word - father - rang in his head. 

“Probably only natural,” said Jace weakly. He took in a deep breath and looked at his mother. Rhaenyra stared at her son with her wide blue eyes. Jace felt as if his mother was opening up his soul and looking inside, searching for the pain so she could fix the wound. “The connection that father had… if others knew about it… would it have made people hate him? Or wish him … dead?” Rhaenyra reached for Jace’s hand on the table and she held it. 

“Yes, some would. But not everyone.” she said softly, “Those who would - they simply cannot grasp the concept of connection in general… of love.”

“I do not know which path to follow,” said the eldest prince, “whether following the path laid out by my heart, or the path everyone else walks.” Rhaenyra squeezed Jace’s hand, but before she responded, the door opened, and Ser Harrold stepped in. 

“Your grace, it is Prince Aemond.” said the bearded Kingsguard knight. Walking into the room was Aemond, and he stood in the middle of the room as everyone else looked at him. Jace wasn’t expecting to see Aemond come to the dining hall, and was surprised that Aemond knew where he was. Jace looked down nervously and with some shame. 

“Your grace,” greeted Aemond, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. He stood near the other end of the table. 

“Aemond, good to see you,” said Rhaenyra with some suspicion. 

“I am sure Prince Jacaerys already informed you, but wanted to confirm his report that the treating at Riverrun was successful,” he said stiffly. 

“Yes, Jacaerys just told me. I am glad you were received so warmly by Lord Tully.” smiled Rhaenyra sweetly, “Would you like to eat?” 

“I should leave you be, really,” said Aemond. 

“No, no, please, join us.” insisted Rhaenyra. She looked to her handmaiden once again, “Just one more plate for Prince Aemond.” the handmaiden bowed her head and rushed off through the side door to get another plate. Rhaenyra gestured for Aemond to sit beside Jace. The silver haired prince walked over to the right side of the table and sat next to Jace. Joffrey looks across the table at Aemond, glaring at his eyepatch. 

“Stop, Joff,” muttered Jace across the table. 

“Aemond,” Joffrey said, “does your scar still hurt?” Jace sighed annoyedly at his little brother, but Aemond chuckled. 

“It’s fine,” he said to Jace, “but usually no it doesn’t hurt all the time.” he answered the little prince, “Sometimes when I go to sleep, and if I lay on my side, I will get headaches.” Aemond’s plate of food is brought out quickly and gently set in front of him by the handmaiden. Jace and Aemond begin to dig into their meals, taking large forkfuls of the meat on their plate. 

“What did you think of Riverrun, Aemond?” asked Rhaenyra. The handmaiden brought over a pitcher of water and poured it into Rhaenyra’s cup. 

“Well, it’s just a castle on a river. Nothing extraordinary.” he answered coldly, continuing to focus on his plate. Jace then stepped on Aemond’s foot with his boot and nudged his knee. “But,” stammered Aemond, “I am grateful to have been on the mission. I haven’t seen this much of the Realm before when Viserys was King.” Rhaenyra smiled and nodded, 

“Our father was keen on keeping his family close. But I am glad you enjoy venturing on behalf of the Crown.” 

“It was nice to get away for a bit,” noted Jace. 

“Aye,” agreed Rhaenyra, “I wish I was able to do more of that when I was your age. But, father was very… protective… over me. I couldn’t take Syrax too far.” 

“Well, at least you had Dragonstone.” mentioned Aemond. 

“Dragonstone can feel like a prison at times.” scoffed Jacaerys, “Even though that was starting to feel like home in recent years.” 

“The weight of the Crown bears down on all of us,” said Rhaenyra, taking a long sip from her cup. The two young men nodded in agreement, and continued eating their meals. 

“I have news for you,” added Rhaenyra. Jace looked up immediately from his plate. “In due time, you will have another sibling. I am with child.” Joffrey, already having known the information, looked back and forth between Aemond and Jace for their reactions. Jace stared blankly at his mother. 

“I wish you congratulations, your grace.” said Aemond. 

“I am happy,” said Jace, as if he were forcing the words out of his mouth, “for you and Aegon.” 

…

After lunch with the Queen and Prince Joffrey, Jacaerys quickly went to his bedroom. He was followed and joined by Aemond. The two walked back to Jace’s room in total silence. Jace stormed into his bedroom first, pushing through the door and it banged against the wall. Aemond carefully shut the door. The brown haired prince stood in the middle of his room, staring blankly across the room. Aemond walked across the room to the small table, where a handmaiden had left a pitcher of wine and a single cup. The silver haired prince poured himself a full cup and took a drink. He looked at Jace, 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“I wanted to tell her. About me, my feelings… for you. I was very close to it.” said Jace. Aemond walked over to Jacaerys’ bed and sat on the side of it. He patted beside himself, gesturing for Jace to sit down next to him. Jace walked over, taking off his coat and throwing it onto the nearby chair. As Jace sat down, Aemond handed him the cup of wine, and Jace took it. Jace took a long drink, finishing the last drop as Aemond watched him. 

“Were you feeling pressured to?” asked Aemond gently. He held his hands together in his lap. 

“Somewhat, yes. She started talking about my father, and how he had a connection to someone else even though he was married to her. And that type of connection - most would have wanted him dead for it.” explained Jace. 

“Don’t worry,” Aemond reached for Jace’s hand and started rubbing it. Jace put down the empty cup at the nightstand beside his bed, “There is no rush.” 

“Yes there is, it seems like this wedding is still on.” said Jace worriedly, glaring at Aemond. 

“Like I told you before, wedding or not, I am not going anywhere.” Aemond lifted Jace’s hand up so he could kiss it. Jace let out a stressed sigh. 

“I know,” he responded. Aemond then moved to kiss Jace’s neck, right under his jaw. He kissed Jace’s neck slowly, opening his mouth wide, licking him slightly. He then moved up to Jace’s ear, licking and kissing his ear lobe. Jace closed his eyes and let out a relaxed exhale. Aemond’s kissing moved across Jace’s cheek to his lips, and Jace turned to face Aemond. Aemond grabbed Jace’s face lightly, holding him close. 

“We had a long flight,” muttered Jace as Aemond briefly lifted his lips from the kissing, “from Stoney Sept.” Aemond mumbled, 

“Yes,” 

“A while since I had you,” whispered Jace, running his fingers through Aemond’s long, silky, hair, “in me.” Aemond let out a growling chuckle, moving closer onto Jace. Jace swung one leg onto the bed, and then his second. Aemond took off his coat and slid off his shoes, throwing it all onto the floor. Jace took off his shirt and helped Aemond take off his. 

Aemond immediately laid his body down on top of Jace, their bare chests and torsos up against one another. Aemond slowly grinded his bulge against Jace’s, grazing his lips across Jace's mouth, teasing him by withholding more kisses. Jace ran his hands down Aemond’s sides, down to his hips and waistband of his pants. 

“Taking your time, are you?” he asked playfully. Aemond nodded with a smirk. He moved down to Jace’s chest, kissing down the center of his chest. He then licked around Jace’s left nipple, and then the right. Aemond kissed Jace's abdomen, down to the waistband of his underwear, pulling it off abruptly. Aemond then took off his own pants and underwear. He laid himself between Jace’s legs, pressing his growing cock on Jace’s cock. Aemond brushed back Jace’s hair, taking a moment to look into his eyes, admiring him. 

Jace carefully took off Aemond’s eyepatch. His sapphire eye glistened once the sunlight hit it. Jace held his hand cupped on Aemond’s face. The silver haired prince turned his face slightly to kiss the palm of Jace’s hand. 

“I can’t take my eyes off of you,” said Aemond softly. 

“I know,” smirked Jace. He pulled in Aemond’s face for a deep and long kiss. As they kissed, Aemond began grinding his cock against Jace, humping him. He arched his back slightly as he thrusted his hips. Aemond could feel the precum from both of their cocks leaking, rubbing against their meat, lubricating them slightly. 

“You get hard quick,” muttered Aemond, feeling the growing urge to fuck. Jace nodded, continuing to kiss Aemond. 

“I want it. I’m ready for it.” he said. 

“Oh yeah?” Aemond then sat up and spread Jace’s legs open, placing two fingers at his hole. Aemond rubbed his hole gently, then spit down to make him wet. With his other hand he slowly stroked Jace’s erect dick. Aemond slid two fingers inside of Jace, making him groan quietly. The silver haired prince thrusted his fingers slowly, spreading his saliva in and around Jace’s hole. Jace became loose rather quickly and felt him throbbing. 

“Give it to me,” said Jace desperately in a low voice. Aemond raised a brow, sliding his fingers deeper inside of Jace’s hole. Jace gasped and closed his eyes. 

“This?” asked Aemond. 

“No,” panted Jace as Aemond increased the speed of his finger thrusts. Jace clenched the blankets at his sides, “You know what I want.” 

Aemond leaned down, just over Jace’s body as he continued to finger, 

“Say it to me,” whispered Aemond sensually. Jace opened his eyes, looking into Aemond’s eyes furiously. 

“Your cock. I want your cock in me.” he said passionately. Aemond smirked, removing his fingers from Jace’s hole slowly. He spit some more onto Jace’s hole, and held his dick in his hand. Aemond rubbed his cock up and down Jace’s hole, making him crave it more. Aemond couldn’t wait any longer either, his cock was dripping with precum. 

Aemond pressed his cock inside of Jace’s hole, making him moan with a loud grunt. Aemond lowered his body over Jace, beginning to thrust his cock carefully in and out of the tight hole. Jace moaned softly and held onto Aemond’s back, keeping his body close. He watched Aemond’s torso flex as he humped, noticing his own cock throbbing uncontrollably. Aemond kept his face low, close to Jace’s face, continuing to lather him in long, passionate kisses. Jace’s face was completely in the shadow of Aemond’s long hair that hung down, and all he could see was Aemond’s face. He watched and listened as Aemond groaned and grunted with each thrust, watching him lick his lips, then being kissed. 

Jace’s hands moved slowly down to Aemond’s ass and he grabbed them tightly. Aemond smirked as he felt his ass being pulled in, driving his cock deeper into Jace. The silver haired prince kept his pace steady and slow, savoring the moment as much as he could. 

“Oh fuck,” exhaled Jace with satisfaction. He put his hands on Aemond’s chest, running them down his chest. Sweat began to glisten across Aemond’s chest and forehead. “I want to ride you.” muttered Jace. Aemond slowed his fucking and nodded. He wrapped his arms underneath Jace’s back and carefully lifted him. Aemond rolled onto his back and Jace got onto Aemond. Jace reached behind his body for Aemond’s cock, positioning it at his hole. Jace slowly lowered himself onto Aemond’s cock, then sat down entirely on it. Aemond groaned in pleasure, rubbing his hands up and down Jace’s thighs. 

Jace kept one leg bent, with his foot flat on the bed, helping him bounce on Aemond’s cock. Aemond kept his head back on the pillows, looking up at Jace’s body as he was being ridden. Even though Aemond preferred to be on top, and in total control, he didn’t mind the better view he had of Jace’s body. 

Aemond ran his hands up Jace’s torso, up to his chest and nipples. Jace then guided one of Aemond’s hands down to his cock to stroke it. Aemond jerked Jace’s cock hard and fast, and Jace began to bounce faster. 

“Fuck, Aemond,” moaned Jace quietly. 

“Just like that,” muttered Aemond, clenching his jaw as he felt himself coming close to cumming. 

“Yes, Aemond, fuck,” Jace continued to moan. Jace’s body twitched and Aemond started thrusting his own hips, fucking Jace harder. He held his hands under Jace’s thighs, lifting him up slightly to fuck from underneath. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” groaned Aemond, he thrusted hard and slowed down. Just at that moment Jace groaned and came all over Aemond’s torso and chest. His legs trembled from his orgasm, feeling it in both his cock and his hole as Aemond still kept his cock inside. Jace caught his breath and rested his hands down on Aemond’s shoulders. He leaned down, kissing Aemond on his lips. 

As Jace lifted off of Aemond, he didn’t want Jace to stop kissing him, and watched disappointedly as he got off of him and out of bed. Aemond watched Jace walk across the room into the small closet, where he had some towels. He admired watching Jace’s ass as he walked away. Aemond then rested his head back and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a satisfied deep breath. 

Jace came back and stood at the bedside, beginning to wipe Aemond’s chest and torso. Aemond looked at Jace’s eyes as he was being cleaned. 

“You’re so… beautiful.” remarked Aemond. Jace chuckled lightly as he cleaned Aemond. 

“Because I’m cleaning you? I won’t do this all the time, just so you know.” said Jace sassily. 

“Of course not, do not jest with me.” said Aemond as he rubbed Jace’s arm, tugging at him. Jace pulled back playfully, finishing up wiping Aemond’s body. Jace finished cleaning Aemond and put the towel down on one of the chairs at the nearby table. 

“I want you,” said Aemond. Jacaerys walked back over to the bedside and smiled. He climbed onto the bed, over Aemond, to lay on his right side, closer to the wall. Aemond held Jace’s hand, kissing it. “To be mine.” added Aemond. 

“I know.” smiled Jace with a relaxed sigh, laying on his side so he could look at Aemond. Aemond turned his head to look up at Jace. Jace stood over Aemond, looking back down at him with a small smile. Aemond pulled at Jace’s hand, urging him to come back into bed. Jace climbed over Aemond to lay on his right side, and snuggled beside him, resting his head on Aemond’s chest. Aemond wrapped his arm around Jace’s shoulders and back, exhaling with relief. Jace reached for the fur blanket that was rolled up at the end of the bed, pulling it up to cover up to his shoulder and Aemond’s chest. Jace closed his eyes and rested one hand on Aemond’s chest. He could feel Aemond’s heartbeat, it was relaxed and steady. 

“How is your back?” asked Jace softly, asking Aemond about the cut he was given that night they were attacked in the woods.

“Still a little sore, stings, but I’ll manage.” answered Aemond. He no longer wore any bandages, as the wound was beginning to heal and stopped bleeding. Jace grumbled and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. They flew for hours that morning from Stoney Sept, this was his first moment to finally relax after days of traveling. Aemond started to doze off as well, after numerous nights of restless sleep. His caressing of Jace slowed to a stop as he fell asleep, and the brown haired prince did not even notice. They were both soon sound asleep together. 

Daeron & Rhaenys

5 Miles North of Hellholt

Dorne

  The Tyrell host made camp at the foothills of dunes and along the Brimstone River just a few miles away from the castle of Hellholt in west-central Dorne. The Tyrell host suffered losses from another two ambushes by the Dornish army the last few nights, losing another one hundred sixty men. However, more reinforcements continued to come from the Prince’s Pass and Skyreach, joining with the main host, increasing the total number of men from two thousand to four thousand. Once Hellholt would be taken, the castle would serve as a staging ground for further operations into the interior of Dorne. The army would split and siege numerous castles and towns simultaneously. 

Late that night, Prince Daeron and Princess Rhaenys were far outside of the camp, bringing sheep to their dragons for a meal. They were essentially in the middle of the Dornish desert, and there wasn't much livestock or natural game around for the dragons to hunt. The sheep were brought from Skyreach. 

Meleys and Tessarion were curled up against one another in the sand, yet got up upon sensing their riders approaching with food. Tessarion was far more excited to see the meal, chirping and chattering with content as Daeron and Rhaenys approached. They brought five sheep, tied together at their collars so they wouldn’t flee.

Daeron drove a metal stake into the ground and tied the end of the rope holding the sheep together so they wouldn’t escape. He and Rhaenys stood away from the sheep, and the dragons slowly approached. Meleys stood tall, towering over Tessarion. Tessarion occasionally looked up at Meleys, afraid to attack the sheep before her. Meleys nudged Tessarion with her wing, pushing her forward. Tessarion then faced the sheep and growled. The sheep bleated erratically, pulling at their rope that leashed them. Tessarion burned all of the sheep in the blink of an eye, illuminating the night. The blue dragon’s flame wasn't strong enough to instantly kill the sheep, so Meleys gently fired upon the sheep as well, cooking them far more quickly.  

“How much longer do you think this will go on, Princess?” asked Daeron, glancing up at Rhaenys as she watched the dragons begin to feast on their roasted sheep. 

“I am not sure,” exhaled Rhaenys, crossing her arms, “the Dornish resistance seems to be getting stronger the closer we venture into the interior of the peninsula.” Daeron nodded, understanding her assessment. She was correct. They faced three total ambushes as they continued south along the Brimstone. 

“Do you wish to return home?” asked Rhaenys, looking over at her great nephew. 

“I don’t know. I don’t have any desire to return to Oldtown.” he said, looking over at the dragons. Tessarion tore into a sheep’s carcass ravenously, where Meleys was gentle in picking apart the meat. 

“Not Oldtown,” said Rhaenys, “King’s Landing.” 

“Oh,” responded Daeron, “I feel compelled to see this through, especially if you stay. A dragonrider should not be alone in whatever quest they are on.” Rhaenys chuckled lightly to herself, she was impressed with his wisdom, and agreed with his statement. “I would return if you did. You’ve been here in Dorne far longer than me.” 

“Ah,” Rhaenys took in a deep breath, “I question myself every single day about returning home… even just for a short break.” 

“Perhaps we could exchange places with two other riders, like Aegon and Aemond.” suggested Daeron. 

“Your brothers have been too reckless in the past.” said Rhaenys disappointedly. 

“Eventually we are going to need help. We cannot continue this on our own.” Daeron was beginning to feel fatigued from the war. It was nonstop, they could never truly rest, and always had to keep one eye open when sleeping. The Dornish were ruthless and spontaneous with their attacks. 

“We are making good progress as is,” Rhaenys patted Daeron on his shoulder, “some obstacles are bound to arise along the way.” the two turned and started walking back towards camp. There were hundreds of tents along the riverside, yet there were far more knights on patrol, keeping watch for any potential enemy attacks. 

“Do you know if the Dornishmen we captured have revealed any information yet?” asked Daeron curiously. 

“No, they won’t talk, and said they’d rather die.” said Rhaenys solemnly. Daeron could tell how reserved Rhaenys was with the lives of men. Even with Meleys, she would only use her dragon as a last resort. Rhaenys had far more restraint than Daeron, but perhaps that came with her decades of experience and wisdom. 

“I have an idea, if you are open to trying something new… and drastic.” said Daeron. Rhaenys looked at Daeron, she could already guess what the prince was thinking. 

“Let’s get the Lord Commander.” 

...

Lord Commander Redwyne and Ser Gwayne Hightower joined Princess Rhaenys and Prince Daeron at the outside of camp, joined by ten other knights. The knights brought along the five Dornish captives from the first ambush the other night, bringing them out to the dragons. The Dornishmen were chained at their ankles and wrists, and all chained together. The prisoners were on edge and began to stress as they saw the dragons. 

Meleys let out a roar into the night sky, basking in the moonlight and the cool air. The dragons stood behind their riders as the prisoners were brought over to the blackened, scorched patch of sand where they feasted earlier. There were blackened bones littered across the sand. Meleys took a few steps forward, holding her head right over Rhaenys. Tessarion kept his head beside Daeron, watching intently as the prisoners were brought forward, and forced onto their knees. 

“As a gesture of mercy,” spoke Rhaenys to the prisoners, “we offer you all one last chance at giving us the information we seek. After all, our army will be on the move soon, and we have no interest in maintaining prisoners.” The prisoners glared with anger at Rhaenys and Daeron. One of them spit on the ground, directed at Rhaenys’ feet. Meleys growled and hissed at the prisoners. 

“Death by a dragon does not only come in flames,” joined Daeron, “I’m sure you can all imagine how gruesome it must feel to have your limbs torn off… one by one… while alive.”  

“Now,” continued Rhaenys, “tell us where your army’s camp is located.”

“And where Qoren Martell is.” added the young prince. The dragons continued to growl impatiently. Tessarion inched forward, trying to walk past Daeron. Daeron held out his arm, holding back Tessarion by her shoulder, and the blue dragon stopped. 

“Who would like to speak first?” asked Rhaenys. 

“We do not know where the camp is,” said the first prisoner, in the center of the five, “we aren’t told those details.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” scoffed Rhaenys, “after all, you all had to know where to go after ambushing us in the night.” The prisoners kept quiet. Rhaenys took a few steps to her right, allowing Meleys to walk forward slowly. The dragon’s footsteps thudded loudly in the ground as she walked. Her neck slithered from side to side, she sniffed the air, getting ever so close to the prisoners. The prisoners began to tremble, some of them whimpering and holding back tears of fear. Meleys focused on the first prisoner at the center, lowering her snout to his face. She breathed heavily in his face, revealing her jagged, yellowish white teeth. The prisoner turned his face to his side and squeezed his eyes shut. He smelled smoke and rotted flesh from her breath. 

“Speak.” ordered Rhaenys to the prisoners. The first prisoner slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at Rhaenys. 

“Never.” he said. Rhaenys took in a deep breath and held her hands together, 

“Angos, Meleys.” she commanded. Meleys reared her head back, her frill of massive horns flexed as she growled loudly. Meleys bit down on the first prisoner, biting down to his midsection. She bit down hard, and the sound of bones crunching echoed in the night. Blood splattered onto the sand and the other prisoners gasped and shrieked as they were sprayed with blood. Meleys bit the man in half, she lifted her head and swung hard. She threw the other half of his corpse across the dunes into the air. 

“Hellholt!” yelled another petrified prisoner, “They’re concentrated at Hellholt! The mainstay of the army! The Martells, too!” 

Daeron and Rhaenys looked at one another with satisfied looks. Daeron was excited, however, Rhaenys’ expression soon turned to apprehension. Daeron began to realize that if the Dornish army was concentrated at Hellholt… they were going to be walking into a true battle. Rhaenys looked over at Gwayne, 

“Send word to King’s Landing, House Martell and their army is in Hellholt.”  

Small Council

The Red Keep

“Prince Aegon left last night and will go to Dorne to fetch Prince Daeron,” said Queen Rhaenyra to the table of councilors, mostly directed at Alicent. Alicent felt an intense wave of relief overcome herself. She looked at Rhaenyra with sympathetic and grateful eyes.

“Your grace, I must insist you reconsider.” said Lord Beesbury, “Reconsider keeping Prince Daeron in Dorne with his dragon, perhaps have Prince Aegon participate in the war effort as well. To move the war along.” 

“The conquest is moving along just fine, I think.” contested Lord Tyland Lannister, “The Lannister host has engaged the enemy in Planky Town.” 

“The fighting in Planky Town has gone on for three days now, perhaps more since we last heard from them by raven.” said Lord Wylde, “The smallfolk have joined the resistance.” 

“Then what are you suggesting,” Tyland looked across the table to Jasper Wylde, “that we send dragons to burn down Planky Town?” 

“No, I am just stating facts. The war is not moving along as well as we think it is, Lord Beesbury is not incorrect in his assessment.” shrugged Wylde. 

“Daeron will not be staying in Dorne, and neither will Aegon. I respect Queen Alicent’s wishes.” asserted the Queen, “And the use of dragons on towns and the smallfolk is out of the question.”

“The Dowager Queen’s wishes could put the entire conquest at risk,” said Wylde in a smug tone. 

“Would you like to go to the battlefront?” snapped Alicent, “Or perhaps send your son who currently lives pompously in a lavish castle in the countryside.” Wylde noticed that Rhaenyra gave him a glare as well, and he lowered his gaze immediately. 

…

“These meetings only continue to get… testier.” said Jacaerys to his mother as he remained at the Small Council table as the meeting ended, and the other members were dismissed. Rhaenyra rubbed her eyes and sat back in her chair. He noticed how stressed his mother was feeling, and realized she wasn’t in the humorous mood. 

“Are you feeling alright?” asked Jacaerys. Rhaenyra opened her eyes and looked at her son, 

“Yes, just tired is all…” she said with a sweet smile. 

“I wanted to tell you something,” said Jace, he moved to the empty seat that belonged to Rhaenys, sitting closer to his mother, “I want to apologize…” 

“What for, sweet boy?” asked Rhaenyra gently. 

“For just being difficult about this wedding, about Helaena…” he explained. 

“You need not apologize,” Rhaenyra sat up and looked into her son’s saddened eyes, “I used to be the same way with my father, before being married off. Except I think I was far more difficult and unyielding.” Jace chuckled lightly. “I just want you to be at peace and happy.” added his mother. 

“I-I have feelings,” stammered Jace, “for Aemond.” Rhaenyra felt a tense feeling in her chest, she wasn’t expecting that to come out of her son. “I love him,” added Jace, “and he loves me.” Jace had a terrified look in his eyes as he waited for his mother to respond, to say anything at all. However, she seemed to be just as terrified as he was. 

“Are you certain of this?” she asked softly. 

“Yes.” he answered, and Rhaenyra slowly nodded. She began to ponder silently to herself. Her mind began to race incredibly fast, perhaps it was making sense, but in another way, it was not. What did Jace see in Aemond, they were always rivals growing up. Aemond had always been rough with her children. Aemond was a cold, distant, young man who always kept to himself. It didn’t make that much sense to her. 

“Who else knows this?” asked Rhaenyra, breaking her silence after a moment. 

“No one. Just you.” he said. Rhaenyra gets up from her seat and paces near the windows behind her seat. She looks outside, holding her hands together nervously. Jace stood up, unsure of how the rest of the conversation was going to go. He was beginning to fear for the worst. Perhaps he made a mistake in telling her, perhaps it was too soon, or perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Rhaenyra turned around and approached her son to hug him tightly. She held his face close to her chest and kissed him on his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Jacaerys began to cry softly. 

“No. Do not apologize.” she insisted, rubbing his hair gently to calm him, “You are my son. My firstborn. But you must marry Helaena, you do know this?” Jace let go of his mother’s embrace and looked into her eyes and nodded solemnly. “But behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of lords, nothing should stop you.” 

“Why behind closed doors?” asked Jace, moving back slightly to look at his mother in the eye. 

“The Realm… would put a target on your back.”

“I do not care, mother. I have the second largest dragon, and Aemond the first.” insisted Jacaerys frantically. 

“Let me remind you that even as Queen or King, we are never in absolute control. You must never underestimate the power of those we rule when in numbers.” Rhaenyra held her hands at Jace’s upper arms as she spoke to him sternly, “Whether they’re the Great Houses, the Faith, or even the smallfolk.” 

“And let me remind you that the Realm constantly questioned you for being named heir and becoming the first ruling Queen, and they still do!” exclaimed Jace. Jace walked away from his mother, away from her grasp. Rhaenyra followed Jace to the door. 

“Jacaerys, please,” she insisted, and Jace stopped. He turned to look at her one last time. “Just be cognizant of the world around you, for your own safety… I beg you.” 

Chapter Text

Hellholt

Dorne

Prince Daeron Targaryen held onto the saddle of his dragon, Tessarion, tightly and kept a low profile as they flew around the ongoing siege of the castle Hellholt. The prince was adorned in heavy iron and leather armor, covered from head to toe, a sleek helmet, sharp gauntlets, and a cuirass that bore the Targaryen sigil on the chest. 

Hellholt sat on the western side of the Brimstone River, it was surrounded by a relatively flat pasture of desert, with crisscrossing trenches, moats, and tunnels. In the trenches and tunnels were hundreds of Dornish archers, acting as one of the last few lines of defenses before the castle. However, the Tyrell army was engaging the bulk of the Dornish army on the high dunes before the flatlands that led to the castle. Seven thousand Tyrell men fought face to face, sword to sword, against thousands of Dornishmen that were both on foot and on horseback. Even from the skies, Daeron could hear the brutish screams and shouting from below. 

Although the majority of the fighting were on the dunes, the castle Hellholt had a series of offensive and defensive measures along its battlements. The castle, its walls in a square shape that protected a bastion of a keep within and a series of smaller buildings and towers, was protected by five catapults and two scorpion bolt cannons. The catapults sat on wooden platforms just behind the castle walls, firing fireballs at the Tyrell army in the dunes. Black smoke streamed across the sky as fireballs were launched, crashing and exploding in the dunes and hitting dozens of Tyrell and even Dornishmen alike. 

From the moats and trenches, Dornish reinforcements continued to seep into the dunes to keep back the Tyrell men. However, not all of their reinforcements were able to cross the flatlands to the dunes. Princess Rhaenys flew low on Meleys, creating walls of fire upon the Dornishmen that sought to fight up on the dune highlands. 

Daeron made sure to keep his distance from the castle, as a single shot from a scorpion could kill him and his dragon in an instant. He was both amazed and fearful at the magnitude of the battle that unfolded below him, perhaps ten thousand men total fighting one another. The young prince kept high in the sky to monitor the entire battle, and keep an eye on the enemy’s movements. 

Daeron soon landed west of the battle, where on a high dune sat a few tents, including the commander’s tent. He slid off of Tessarion’s saddle and down her wing, rushing over to the dark green commander’s tent. Tessarion laid down to rest, her eyes focusing on the ongoing battle over the nearby dunes. 

Inside the commander’s tent was a large war table, with a sprawled map of the region. Lord Commander Redwyne stood over the table, joined by two high ranking knights in the army. Daeron’s uncle Gwayne was not present, as he was leading the charge out in the dunes. 

“Prince Daeron, glad to see you.” said Lord Redwyne as Daeron walked in the warm tent. He walked over to the table, taking off his leather gloves for flying, and his iron helmet. 

“My lord, I can confirm that there are two scorpions and five catapults on the castle walls.” reported Daeron, holding his helmet at his hip, “The catapults are within the castle’s walls, and the scorpions are on the battlements. I also noticed the larger Dornish army camp on the other side of the river, just over a stone bridge that leads to the castle.” Daeron pointed to the location on the map. His finger was just adjacent to the Brimstone River and the red dot that signified the location of Hellholt. 

“I don’t think we’ve made any advancements in the last few hours, we’ve been stalled.” added Daeron. 

“It’s the catapults,” noted the Lord Commander, “and we can’t destroy them from the air because of the scorpions.” 

“We need some kind of diversion perhaps.” said Daeron, “To fly up to the castle in a surprise attack.” 

“Princess Rhaenys is still aback her dragon, and I’d rather not put you in the direct line of fire of those monstrous contraptions.” Daeron was surprised by Lord Derryn Redwyne’s level of restraint. It reminded him of Rhaenys. The prince felt the urge to act, however, as their men were not making any advancements. They were stuck in the dunes fighting, with both sides seeming to suffer losses… except the Dornish kept coming. 

“I can do it.” said Daeron, putting on his helmet, and then his gloves. He headed outside of the tent as Redwyne yelled to him,

“My prince! Just wait a moment!” 

“Soves, Tessarion, soves!” commanded Daeron as Tessarion took off from the top of the hill. The blue dragon beat her wings hard, ascending at a steep angle. Daeron latched his leather belt into a buckle on the saddle and then held onto the saddle handles with a tight grip. Daeron looked over his shoulder as they passed through some thin desert clouds, seeing Meleys far below still making strafing runs along the edges of the Dornish trenches. Black columns of smoke plumed into the sky, and the battle began to minimize in sight. 

Daeron leveled Tessarion above the clouds and he looked down below. Through the fast moving clouds, he could see they were directly above Hellholt. 

“Dive, Tessarion!” ordered the prince. Tessarion let out a roar and dove downward, flying straight downward. Daeron leaned forward, keeping his body close onto the saddle. The wind nearly pulled off his helmet but he tried to keep his head low. The clouds dispersed and he had a clear view of the castle from above. He could see the five catapults at its western wall, and the two scorpions on a western tower and northern tower. The scorpions were being swiveled, yet they could not aim at a ninety degree angle up into the sky. 

“Dracarys!” roared Daeron as Tessarion approached the western tower. As Tessarion extended her wings to slow down, she glided right over the western tower with the scorpion at its top, firing a swig of flames onto the tower. The two Dornishmen at the scorpion screamed in pain as they were lit on fire, and the scorpion’s wooden frame burned and cracked from the intense heat. The wooden platform the scorpion sat upon soon crumbled and burned as well, causing the flat roof of the tower to collapse inward on itself. Tessarion quickly ascended into the sky at a steep angle, and Daeron looked over his shoulder fearfully. He looked at the northern tower. The scorpion fired, shooting a bolt at him. Daeron panicked and heaved the reins to the right. Tessarion banked and the scorpion bolt just missed them. Tessarion let out a frightful squeal as she ascended back into the sky, heading to the dunes. However, as he flew towards the dunes, he lost sight of Meleys and Rhaenys. 

Daeron looked back at the castle. The scorpion was still aimed at him, and his heart skipped a beat. Flying up from below the castle’s northern wall was Meleys, blasting a pointed stream of flames from below, up at the tower and the scorpion. Daeron cheered as the scorpion exploded into shards and pieces. Meleys flew high above the castle, following Tessarion. Daeron laid down on the saddle, resting, and thanking Tessarion for her quickness that saved their lives. 

“You’re a good girl, Tessy.” Daeron rubbed Tessarion’s scaly shoulder. 

Helaena 

The Red Keep

Princess Helaena stood still in the middle of her bedroom as two handmaidens took her measurements carefully with a measuring strip. The Princess stood on a small stool, she was to be fitted for her wedding dress, and the young handmaidens were to ensure she had a perfectly fitted gown. Helaena held out her arms straight. One handmaiden measured her arm length, and the other measured the length from her upper back down to her ankle. The bedroom door was wide open, allowing Aemond to stop by. 

“Good morrow, dear sister.” said Aemond, walking into the room. One of the handmaidens moved to measuring Helaena’s waist. Helaena looked across the room to her younger brother. 

“Hello, Aemond.” she said gently, “How was Riverrun? I hear it was a success.” 

“Aye. It was fine.” he responded, “I have no care for the Riverlands, truthfully.” 

“I am not surprised.” 

“Is this all for your wedding gown?” asked Aemond. The second handmaiden finished her measurements and writing them down on a long parchment paper. Helaena nodded. “How do you feel about becoming Queen one day?” he asked. 

“Ah, that day is far yet to come.” she said. The handmaidens finished and Helaena stepped down from the stool, “Rhaenyra is still young.” Aemond nodded and Helaena looked at her brother as the handmaidens left the room. “How do you feel about all of this?” she asked. Aemond started pacing around the room. He looked at one of the shelves that were covered in small bronze, gold, and ceramic trinkets. 

“About all of what?” he asked curiously. He reached for one of the trinkets on a high shelf, it was a ceramic sculpture of a spider. Its legs were thin and felt brittle in Aemond’s hand. 

“The wedding.” answered Helaena. 

“What I think doesn’t matter.” 

“That’s not true,” said the princess. She walked across the room to her desk. Her desk was neatly organized, with a pile of papers and books on one side and corner, and her quills, ink, and wax seals on the other. 

“Jacaerys is doing his duty and service to the Crown and the Realm.” noted Aemond, putting down the ceramic spider. 

“And you?” Aemond looked at his sister, and he shrugged. She stood at her desk, holding her hands together nervously. “I forgive you, you know.” Aemond nearly cocked his head in surprise and shook his head, puzzled. His eyes started to water. He even felt tears forming at his sapphire eye. 

“You’ve always seemed like a lost little boy, who always thought he was confident in himself.” added Helaena, “But you don’t seem lost anymore.” Aemond turned and walked towards the windows to look out into the courtyard. A tear rolled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away. “I know Rhaenyra did not send you to Riverrun.” mentioned the Princess. 

“He needed protection,” said Aemond, clearing his throat. The Prince turned to look at his sister, waiting for her to say something. All she did was stand still and offered a gentle smile. 

“I care about you,” she said, “and I know you care for him.” 

Lord Jasper 

The Red Keep

Lord Jasper Wylde served on the Small Council for almost ten years now, serving as both King Viserys’ and Queen Rhaenyra’s Master of Laws. He, like all the other Small Council members, had offices within one of the many tall towers of the Red Keep. The Small Council offices were located in the Tower of Conciliation, just a short walk across a skybridge to the Tower of the Hand. Lord Jasper was sorting through many letters at his desk, working with company as well. 

Lord Tyland Lannister walked over to one of the chairs in front of Jasper’s desk, having poured himself a cup of wine, and took a seat. 

“How is this all going?” asked Tyland as he waved his hand at the messied papers on Jasper’s desk. 

“It is just fine, I think. Could be better…” exhaled Jasper, “I have been writing letters to the Great Houses on behalf of the Queen, to invite them back to the capital.” 

“I take it that the Queen wants to announce her new institution of government to the Lords and Ladies personally.” said Tyland, drinking from his cup, “What do you think about her plan?” Jasper stopped his writing and thought for a moment. 

“I think it is a messy idea, chaotic, but could be genius in a way.” he answered. 

“Now, the Queen isn’t around, Jasper.” scoffed Tyland, hoping to get a more honest answer from him. 

“I am sincere,” insisted Jasper, “if it all goes to plan, it could improve all of our lives. We’d have to deal with a lot less.” 

“I just choose to deal with less.” shrugged Tyland. 

“Well, you only have to deal with the Navy, not matters of the state and policies and laws.” sighed Jasper. 

“And what if it does not turn out to be a product of her genius?” asked the Lannister curiously. 

“Then it shall be chaos, like I said. But, organized chaos can be kept under some form of control with the proper guardrails. As long as we maintain authority over this new institution.” explained Jasper. 

“I see.” nodded Tyland, taking another long drink, “And when the Queen’s fourth child is born… do you foresee the ensuing chaos being organized or unorganized?” 

“What do you mean?” chuckled Jasper. 

“Let’s not beat around the bush, Jasper.” laughed Tyland, “The line of succession…” 

“I don’t prescribe to those rumors.” Jasper shook his head, he continued writing. 

“If this child is born with silver hair,” continued Tyland, “like Princes Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey should have been - people will question why it isn’t the heir.” 

“Mind your words, Tyland.” eyed Jasper, “You are a good friend of mine, I do not want anything to come of this.” 

“It shouldn’t be an issue anyway,” sighed Tyland, “The Queen has many decades ahead of her of ruling before we need to think about the next sovereign.” the Lannister stood up upon finishing his cup of wine. “But as soon as we invite the Realm into these halls, they will be asking these questions.” 

“And they’ll share the same fate as Vaemond Velaryon if they're too reckless.” noted Jasper. 

Aemond 

The middle prince walked at his own confident pace towards the Iron Throne room, being escorted by Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Prince Aemond was summoned by the Queen to the throne room, and Aemond tried to keep his thoughts at bay as to what it could be about. Rhaenyra did not often call individuals to the throne room, or at least, not family members. 

The heavy wooden doors to the throne room opened by two knights, and Aemond stepped inside. Ser Harrold remained outside the doors as they shut, and Aemond continued inside. The throne room was empty, except for the presence of the Queen, seated at the Iron Throne. Aemond’s footsteps echoed softly in the grand hall as he walked down the center, between the massive stone columns, passing through beams of sunlight from the windows on his right. 

Aemond stopped a few feet away from the base of the throne’s dais, just near the sprawling array of jagged swords. Rhaenyra sat straight on her throne, wearing a dark red gown, her shining hair braided into the style of the Conqueror Queen Visenya, descending into a long single braid down her back. She did not have her golden crown on her head, as this was surely an informal meeting between the half-siblings. 

“Your grace,” Aemond bowed his head, “you called for me?” 

“I did.” said Rhaenyra, “Jacaerys told me everything.” Aemond immediately looked up, feeling a piercing feeling run down his spine. He suddenly felt as if he were on trial now. “About his feelings for you, and yours for him.” the Queen stared at the Prince, but not with intensity or anger, but calmness. 

“Do you,” Aemond stammered slightly, “wish for me to go away?”

“What do you mean?”

“To be out of the picture, out of Jacaerys’ life. Banished.” 

“You are not in any kind of trouble, Aemond.” clarified Rhaenyra, “But I bring to you a warning. That if you put Jacaerys’ crown at risk, I will not hesitate in removing you from this family.” her voice became stern and harsh. 

“I would never put Jacaerys’ inheritance at risk, your grace.” said Aemond, in almost a defeatist tone. 

“Very well,” the Queen was pleased. Aemond continued to look up at the Queen, his lips pursed, as he wanted to say more. The Queen could see he wanted to say something. “Speak your mind freely, Aemond.” she added. 

“I want to marry Jacaerys,” said Aemond confidently. 

“What?” Rhaenyra’s brow furrowed. She put her hands on the ends of the throne’s iron armrests. 

“Jacaerys can be married to Helaena and I - taking two spouses - just like the Conqueror.” 

“Are you mad? This would be… incredibly unprecedented. Not only would you put Jace’s inheritance at risk, but the entire Crown-” 

“From who?” challenged Aemond loudly. Rhaenyra scoffed with a light chuckle, 

“From the Faith mainly, they are already not fond of House Targaryen and our customs,” 

“That didn’t stop Aegon.” insisted Aemond, speaking of the Conqueror, “Or Maegor.” Rhaenyra shook her head in disbelief. She could not believe what she was hearing. 

“I love Jace.” Aemond said sternly, stepping closer to the base of the dais. Rhaenyra stood up and began walking down the steps towards Aemond. Aemond took a step back as Rhaenyra walked down the dais and stood right in front of him. He was taller than her, however, the might and intensity of her glaring eyes felt otherwise. 

“You put my entire reign in jeopardy.” she whispered, with a flare of rage. 

“Is your legacy more important than your son’s happiness?” asked Aemond quietly. 

“Do not put me in this position, Aemond.” 

“There is nothing else that I want,” Aemond knelt down to the floor, lowering his head. 

“I have no issue with the two of you being together… in secret.” sighed Rhaenyra. She felt as if she wouldn’t get anywhere with Aemond, her half-brother was persistent. Aemond looked up at her and she looked into his eye. She suddenly thought of perhaps this was how her father felt when Daemon demanded that he had Rhaenyra’s hand in marriage. She knew her father was very disapproving of the potential match.

“I want no title or crown,” continued Aemond passionately, “just Jacaerys.” 

“I love my son,” said Rhaenyra weakly, her voice nearly cracking, “and he can love whoever, but this would invite war to our doorstep. I am not confident the Seven Kingdoms would rally behind him.” 

“You are afraid they wouldn't rally behind you. And what matters is that you rally behind him.” pleaded Aemond. 

“I wish the world wasn’t like this.” muttered Rhaenyra sadly. 

“You are the Queen, you can make the world what you want.” 

Rhaenyra stood silently, and Aemond slowly got up to his feet. The two looked at one another, both with saddened eyes. Aemond could tell that Rhaenyra felt bound by her duties as Queen, and upholding the fabric of the Realm, the very fabric and customs were holding her hostage from acting as a mother. Aemond nodded, understanding that his pleas were not going to be met with the result he wished for. He turned around and started heading for the main throne room door. 

“And it is not the title of King that you are after?” called out Rhaenyra. Aemond stopped and turned his head, 

“No. Jacaerys will be my King.” 

Aegon

Stonehelm

The sun had set as Aegon landed at the small castle and town of Stonehelm, located in the south of the Stormlands, on the coast of the Sea of Dorne. The sky was turning a deep orange color as the sun continued to descend over the mountainous landscape to the west. Aegon landed Sunfyre on the outskirts of the town, near the rocky shore, however, he certainly caused a stir as the smallfolk saw and heard the great golden dragon arrive. 

Aegon walked up a steep hill from the rocky shore of the coastline towards an combined inn/tavern that sat along a dirt path. There were three horses tied to a wooden post outside the tavern’s stairs, and Aegon hoped there weren’t many people inside. He had no Kingsguard to protect him, however, the Prince Consort wore light armor and had a Valyrian sword at his hip. 

Aegon walked inside the tavern, being met by numerous eyes. There were only three men seated at the bar, a single bartender at the counter, and a servant girl sweeping the floor between the tables. They all looked at him as he walked inside, going up to the counter. 

“A mug of ale, good ser.” said Aegon, standing at the end of the bar counter. The bartender, a middle-aged man with a long, scruffy gray beard nodded and reached for a nearby keg to fill a mug. Aegon glanced at the three men seated at the bar, they all seemed like farmers. They wore ragged tunics and trousers, mud caked on their boots up to their shins. The closest one to Aegon was perhaps the oldest, with graying hair, he had a scar across his nose, and his eyes were a pale gray. 

“You’re the Prince, aren’t ya?” he asked. Aegon nodded, 

“Indeed I am,” he instantly regretted saying that he was. These men could attack him, capture him, make ransom demands. Aegon knew he wasn’t as good of a fighter to fend off three men. 

“Hm,” nodded the older farmer, “shouldn’t you be King?” 

“I didn’t want the title. The Queen is the ruler.” explained Aegon. The farmer nods and mumbled something under his breath before continuing his drink. The bartender then slammed the mug of ale in front of Aegon. Aegon placed a single gold-dragon on the counter to pay him, and started drinking the ale. It was bitter and had a strong odor, nothing like he had ever drank before in King’s Landing. 

Aegon closed his eyes as he took a long drink. He started to think of the Queen - his Queen, his dear wife. He missed her. He missed feeling her hands touch his face and body. He missed touching her body, running his hands down her sides from her breasts to her hips. Aegon started to feel horny. His cock was feeling tender. As Aegon put down the mug, he noticed the servant girl staring at him and she smiled. He smiled back. She had long blond hair with streaks of brown, wearing a loose maid’s dress and white apron. 

Aegon finished his drink and started walking back down the dirt path, away from the shore, to the coast to look for Sunfyre. He needed that drink badly, but as he walked through the night, he felt like he needed to relieve himself. He couldn’t stop thinking of fucking Rhaenyra as soon as he gets back to King’s Landing, spreading apart her legs and sliding inside of her instantly. 

He rubbed his bulge as he continued down the path, approaching a rocky cliffside. His cock was getting hard and rubbing against his thigh, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Aegon approached the cliffside and looked around, there wasn’t anybody around. He faced forward, the cliff was perhaps a hundred feet above the water and crashing waves. He rubbed his cock from over his pants, making it erect. He slid down his trousers, just below his ass cheeks. The wind was chilly on his ass and his balls, but he quickly grabbed his dick. As he stroked it gently, his cock hardened intensely. 

Aegon spit into his hand and then onto his cock, lubricating himself. He groaned softly upon sliding his wet hand over the head of his cock, down and back up his shaft. Aegon stopped upon hearing a rustling in the nearby bushes from behind. He looked over his shoulder, it was the servant girl who followed him. Aegon froze. She was staring at him. 

The girl lifted her loose dress, revealing her cunt. Aegon gulped nervously, his cock throbbed. She started to rub the palm of her hand back and forth against her cunt, watching Aegon. Aegon turned, showing her his cock, and he continued to jerk, slowly. He stared at her cunt, becoming pink, flushed with blood as she rubbed herself. Aegon imagined sliding the head of his cock between the lips of her cunt, then inside of her hole. The girl walked closer up to Aegon, stopping just a few feet away. 

She moaned softly and slid two fingers inside of her cunt, and Aegon stepped closer. He wanted to fuck badly. He stroked his cock harder, staring at her fingers going in and out of her hole. Her fingering caused her to drip from her hand, Aegon grunted. He imagined sliding his cock right up inside her hole. The girl removed her fingers and licked them, staring into Aegon’s eyes. The girl stepped up to Aegon and reached for his cock. His pants fell from his knees down to his feet as she rubbed the head of his pulsing cock on the lips of her cunt. She spread her legs and leaned into Aegon to slide his cock into herself. The girl moaned and Aegon thrusted in her quickly. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. She was wet and he was able to slide in her easily, fucking her hard. He held onto her hips to hold her still as he pounded. He did not withhold his primal instinct to fuck her hard. The girl held her hands behind Aegon’s neck, holding onto him so she wouldn’t lose her balance. 

“Oh yes, fuck me,” cried out the girl. Aegon only looked down at his cock as he fucked her. His thick cock caused her to squirt on his groin and balls. He grunted hard, giving powerful thrusts as he felt himself close to ejaculating. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he panted. The girl held onto Aegon’s neck tightly, moving closer to him, resting her torso on his armored chest. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” Aegon moved to pull out, but the girl wrapped one leg around his lower back, pushing herself onto Aegon. His cock only slid deeper in her, 

“Fuck, no, fuck,” Aegon ejaculated inside of her, closing his eyes, and twitching his hips as he unloaded in her. He pushed her off and she stumbled back. The girl smiled, reaching down to her cunt to wipe a speck of cum onto her finger, and licked it. 

“You fuck well, my prince.” she said. Aegon stood back and pulled up his pants, he said nothing else to the girl. He stared at her with frustration, realizing what she had done. Aegon turned to continue down the path, and gulped nervously, now thinking of what he had done. 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

The Queen rushed down a corridor of the Red Keep, holding up her gown slightly off of her feet, clenching the fabric at her waist with vigor. She was being trailed by an entourage of four Kingsguard. She had summoned Prince Jacaerys to dinner after her confrontational conversation with Prince Aemond, yet he was nowhere to be found. 

“Your grace,” Ser Harrold appeared from the intersection of another corridor and Rhaenyra halted, looking up at him desperately, “the Crown Prince is not in his bedroom.” There were two other knights with Ser Harrold. “My men have not seen him.” 

“It is preposterous that the Kingsguard lost sight of the heir to the Iron Throne!” exclaimed Rhaenyra in a flurry of anger and fear. She continued past Ser Harrold, and the elder knight followed her. She turned a corner and headed up the wide staircase that led to many of the royal family member’s bedrooms. 

As Rhaenyra went down the hall, all of the doors were shut, except for one - Jacaerys’ room. She stepped inside. The room was empty but also spotless. His bed was made, the floor was swept, shelves and tables dusted. The windows were open and the curtains billowed gently in the wind. She paced around his bedroom with her hands on her hips. 

From outside the window, she heard a faint dragon’s roar. Rhaenyra shot a look at Ser Harrold, and she ran out of the room. Rhaenyra needed to get to a set of windows that didn’t face an inner courtyard, but rather faced out of the castle. She rushed past the next few rooms and went up another corridor. 

Upon arriving at a wall of arch windows, Rhaenyra clung to the windows’ edge, peering outside. The windows overlooked Blackwater Bay. The dark bay waters glistened and glimmered from the bright moonlight. Up in the sky above the bay were two large dragons, Vhagar and Vermithor. 

“He must’ve taken his dragon,” pointed out Ser Harrold. Rhaenyra slammed her hand against the window sill angrily. “Perhaps to Dragonstone… it appears.” Rhaenyra’s eyes were glued to the shrinking silhouettes of the two largest dragons in the Seven Kingdoms, flying side by side, going northeast. 

Princess Helaena appeared in the hall, the entourage of Kingsguard and the Queen. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked in a gentle voice. Rhaenyra turned, the Queen had a frazzled look on her face and she felt it just emanating from her facial expression and her tense shoulders. 

“I am not sure,” said Rhaenyra, she rubbed her nose and sniffled quietly, “I have to go to Dragonstone. Right now.” 

“But why?” asked Helaena, approaching her half-sister. 

“Jace is upset, I have to talk to him.” the Queen said. Rhaenyra faced Ser Harrold, about to order him to ready a carriage to take her to the Dragonpit so she could get Syrax. 

“You shouldn’t fly,” said Helaena, before the Queen could order Ser Harrold, “especially this early in your pregnancy… your grace.” Helaena held her hands together nervously, stepping a bit closer to her angered and fragile half-sister. “Perhaps he just needs some space to think and reflect.” 

Rhaenyra did not disagree with Helaena, but could only look out the windows once more to look at the disappearing dragons on the horizon. Her eyes began to tear up as she thought of her son feeling the urge to flee… to abandon their home… to abandon his own mother. 

Dragonstone

Vermithor and Vhagar landed on one of the many beaches surrounding the black stoned castle of Dragonstone, just outside the castle’s main gatehouse. Princes Jacaerys and Aemond walked side by side to the gatehouse, meeting the knights and requesting entry, who were surprised to see them. The princes were immediately welcomed, and the silver gate slowly opened. Aemond and Jace stepped through the shadow of the gatehouse, instantly being met by the imposing view of the fortress of a castle before them. 

Aemond and Jace looked at one another. Jace reached out to Aemond’s hand, and they held each other’s hand for just a moment. Aemond smiled and nodded, and Jace stepped first out onto the cobblestone path. They continued on the winding path, built on a spindly land-bridge to the main island where the castle sat. The moon illuminated the castle, and its windows glowed faint orange lights from the candlelights within. Jacaerys felt like he had finally returned to his home, whereas for Aemond, this was a strange place where he never stayed more than a night. 

The castle was guarded by a garrison of only two hundred men, and most of them were stationed on the outer castle walls, towers, and battlements to keep watch on the perimeter. But as they headed inside the castle, Jace was immediately greeted by knights they passed by. They encountered a handful of knights along the way through the castle, making their way to the residential apartments. The knights all recognized Jacaerys, glad to see the young Crown Prince returned. 

Aemond followed Jace like a lost, wondering, boy. Jace led him up a spiral stone staircase, showing him different areas of the castle as they ascended further into the innards of the castle. The silver haired prince had only been to Dragonstone twice or thrice throughout his entire life, and never stayed long. After all, it was not his home. 

Jacaerys showed Aemond where his old bedroom was, where Luke’s, Joffrey’s, and their father’s room was as well. The rooms were all kept shut and untouched. Jace continued onward, bringing Aemond to the largest bedroom of all, which once belonged to his mother. 

Jace opened the large heavy wooden door to the master bedroom, and walked down a few steps to the sunken floor. Aemond followed in slowly, looking around, impressed at the size of the bedroom. There was a large king-sized bed in the far end of the room, built with a curtain canopy around its frame. There was a fireplace and sitting area of three couches, a dining table, three towering wardrobes, and shelves filled with books, scrolls, and ancient trinkets. There were only windows along the left wall upon entering, they were thin yet tall, reaching from the floor to nearly the ceiling. The candelabras in the bedroom were lit already by the knights, and the room had a warm, welcoming aura to it. 

Jace spun around as he entered through the middle of the room, taking off his coat and throwing it onto the dining table. He stretched out his arms and had a grin on his face. He fell onto his bed, laying on his back. Aemond walked over and laid down beside him, running his fingers down Jace’s shirt, unbuttoning it. 

Jace only stared at Aemond, looking at him deeply. He admired Aemond’s silky long hair that cascaded down his shoulders and down his back. He loved Aemond’s pink lips, and could not wait any longer. Jace pulled Aemond downward for a kiss. Aemond then kissed Jace back, giving him short, but numerous kisses. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” mentioned Jace, holding his hands on Aemond’s face. Aemond kissed the palm of Jace’s hand. 

“Yes I did.” he responded. 

“Just a few months ago,” Jace smiled, “you told me it couldn’t be. That we couldn’t tell anyone. That our relationship must be hidden.” 

“I was wrong,” admitted Aemond, he cupped his hand over Jace’s hand, continuing to kiss it, “but… a relationship you say?” 

“Well,” Jace gulped, “we’ve declared our feelings for one another, we’ve been intimate, and now you want to marry me.” 

“Then yes, I have essentially been courting you.” smirked Aemond. 

“Part of me is afraid,” said Jace. 

“I know. I am too.” said Aemond quietly. The two looked into each other’s eyes. Aemond leaned down and kissed Jacaerys on his lips, holding their lips together for some time. “But,” Aemond lifted his lips just an inch off of Jace, “as long as we’re together… we will be alright.” Jace looked up at Aemond with wide, innocent eyes. He felt so protected by Aemond, and he didn’t want that to change. 

Aemond continued to unbutton Jace’s shirt, finally opening it up and taking it off of his body. Jace impatiently tugs at Aemonds jacket, unzipping it and lifting up his shirt. Aemond helped him by taking off the shirt himself.

While the two were shirtless, Aemond kissed Jace again, lowering one hand down his chest to Jace’s nipple. He rubbed one of Jace’s nipples and circled his fingers around it. Aemond’s hand then slid down Jace’s belly to his bulge, sliding his hands inside of his pants. Aemond rubbed Jace’s bulge, pulling his cock to point upward. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” said Jace in a low voice. Aemond pulled Jace’s pants and underwear off. He got up from the bed and stood at the bedside, looming over Jace between his spread legs. Aemond unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. His cock slung outward, already growing hard. Jace smirked, eyeing Aemond’s cock, and then back to his face. 

Aemond took off his eyepatch last, and threw it carelessly across the room. He slowly crawled back onto the large bed, lowering onto Jace, pressing their erect cocks together. As Aemond rested his body on Jace, he slowly grinded his hips and his cock into Jace. 

“Do you want to take me from behind?” whispered Jace. He breathed heavily from Aemond’s weight on his body. 

“No,” grumbled Aemond, kissing Jace on his lips, “I like to look into your eyes while I fuck you.” Aemond then felt Jace’s cock flex against his and he smirked. “Oh you’re ready for it, aren’t you?” 

“I am,” said Jace, giving a kiss to Aemond. Aemond sat up, sliding his knees under Jace’s thighs. He held his cock at Jace’s hole, spitting down at his cock. Aemond rubbed his cock, lubricating it. He then rubbed his wet cock that leaked precum on and around Jace’s hole. Jace exhaled deeply and gasped from the sensation of being rubbed around his tight hole. Aemond placed the head of his cock right on Jace’s hole, pushing in slowly just an inch. Jace gasped. 

“You’re tight,” noted Aemond with a sensual growl, “don’t you want this cock?” he teased. 

“I do, yes, please.” Jace breathed heavily. He ran his hands down Aemond’s chest and felt his protruding abs. Aemond then leaned forward, pushing in his cock another two inches. Jace groaned softly and closed his eyes, trying to relax. 

“I have a load for you,” Aemond leaned down over Jace’s body, whispering into his ear. 

“I want it,” whispered Jace. Jace wrapped his hands around Aemond’s back. He felt Aemond’s large scar across his back. It still felt rigid, and Jace tried not to put too much pressure on his back. Aemond thrusted his cock inside of Jace, inserting all seven inches of his cock into Jace. The brown haired prince let out a moan, throwing back his head and his eyes. Aemond paid attention to Jace, slowing his pace to ensure he wasn’t being hurt. 

“You’re doing good,” panted Jace, “fuck me.” he demanded. Aemond didn’t have to be told twice, and he began humping Jace at a slow pace. Aemond closed his eyes momentarily, feeling Jace’s tight, hot, hole gripping his cock. He was able to slide in and out with ease now. 

“Fuck,” muttered Aemond. Aemond spread his knees out to be able to thrust into Jace with more power and stability. Jace’s thighs trembled and his toes curled. Aemond held up one of Jace’s legs over his shoulder. 

“Does that feel good?” asked Jace, holding one hand behind Aemond’s head. 

“Yes,” grunted Aemond, “You’re so… fucking tight.” 

“You wanna fuck me hard?” 

“Yes,”

“Fuck me, Aemond.”

“Yes, yes, fuck,” Aemond raised his voice. Aemond started pounding Jace faster, shaking the entire bed. 

“Oh Aemond!” cried out Jace in ecstasy, and Aemond leaned down again to lather Jace’s neck and lips in wet kisses. Jace whimpered from each powerful thrust that Aemond gave, nodding his head. 

“Yes, Jace,” groaned Aemond. Jace opened his eyes, he liked hearing Aemond moan, and wanted to hear more of it. 

“Harder,” pleaded Jace, “your cock is so thick and long,” Aemond smirked, his entire body shifted back and forth as he pounded Jace with all his might. Jace’s face and neck blushed and he moaned loudly. 

“I’m gonna explode in you,” panted Aemond.

“Yes, yes, please,” Jace wrapped his hands tightly around Aemond’s back, their torsos against one another. As Aemond humped, his torso grinded against Jace’s wet cock. “I’m cumming, fuck!” exclaimed Jace. His cock squirted a load between him and Aemond’s bodies, splattering on both of them. Aemond groaned loudly,

“Oh fuck yeah,” he buried his face into Jace’s neck and shoulder, his ass twitching as he came inside of his lover. “Fuck,” exhaled Aemond. 

After about a minute of relaxing on top of Jace, Aemond got up and looked for a towel. Jace pointed to one corner of the room, to one of the wardrobes. Aemond opened it and took out a black towel, walking back over to Jace. Jace couldn’t get enough of watching Aemond’s naked body approach him. 

Aemond sat beside Jace on the bed, carefully wiping his torso. 

“See, I told you that it wouldn’t always be you cleaning me.” he smirked. Jace nodded with a light laugh, 

“What a prince,” Aemond finished wiping Jace’s body and then leaned down for a kiss. 

“Your prince.” said Aemond, keeping his lips low over Jace’s lips. Jace smiled. 

“Yes, you’re my prince.” 

Chapter Text

Two and a Half Months Later

Daeron

King’s Landing

The youngest Prince of the late King Viserys and Queen Alicent, Daeron Targaryen, sat by his desk and let out a sigh of frustration, feeling a mix of emotions. He was still angry at his mother’s wishes to call him to the capital, and also embarrassed that he had to be fetched from the Dornish battlefront by his own brother, Aegon. In an attempt to distract himself, he picked up a charcoal pencil and began working on a drawing, the soft scratching sound of the charcoal on the paper filling the quiet room. Daeron’s thoughts were a jumble, he struggled to focus on the drawing before him. He sketched very lightly two dragons flying in the air, circling one another, high above rolling hills. 

Daeron continued to concentrate on his drawing, the charcoal smearing across the paper as he began to feel frustrated with the result. He missed his friends from Oldtown, the only home he had known for many years. He wondered about his uncle Gwayne, hoping he was safe at Dorne. He left Gwayne and the army at Hellholt, the castle being taken after two days of fighting. The thought of Hellholt brought the realization that the Martells managed to escape through secret tunnels underneath the castle, leaving a feeling of unease in his stomach. Daeron’s mind wandered, contemplating the future and whether he would ever be able to return to Dorne, and finish what he started with his fellow countrymen. 

Daeron’s thoughts now turned to his grandfather, Otto Hightower, and the secret meeting he had witnessed months ago with the emissary from Highgarden. The discussion about the lack of confidence in Queen Rhaenyra’s leadership weighed heavily on his mind. He remembered the anxiety and stress he had seen on Rhaenyra’s face recently. He wrestled with the dilemma of telling her about it or not. 

The tension and unease in the Red Keep hung in the air like a thick fog, and Daeron couldn’t shake the feeling that something ominous was brewing. 

… 

Daeron entered the bathhouse and spotted his older brother Aegon already lounging in the steaming hot pool. He quickly changed into a light robe and approached the pool, with warm steam rising around him. The sight of his brother immediately sparked a mix of emotions within him, a combination of annoyance and guilt. He took a deep breath and disrobed, slipping into the water before Aegon looked at him. 

Aegon watched his brother submerge into the water, letting the water creep up to his chin as he dipped his body. Daeron then sat on one of the steps, at the same level as Aegon. The water now only reached his chest. 

“Have you heard from Aemond?” asked Daeron, breaking the silence between the two. Aegon simply shook his head, 

“He’s never been the one to send letters or keep in touch.” Daeron was not surprised. Aemond often kept to himself, especially when  upset. Running away from home was new for him, though. 

“I never thought Aemond would ever…” Daeron trailed off, the shock of his brother running away with his lover, Prince Jacaerys, a man at that! He shook his head, struggling to comprehend the unexpected turn of events. Aegon shrugged his shoulders, keeping his gaze to the still surface of the water. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Daeron, but deep down, he knew that Aegon must be upset with the Queen’s state of being lately. She was distant and withdrawn as of late. Jacaerys’ fleeing to Dragonstone without a word had its effect on Rhaenyra, and it was apparent. 

“Rhaenyra… she’s not… herself. Not talking much.” responded Aegon with a light huff, “She just stays in her room most of the day… and most days of the week.” 

“She must feel lonely,” said Daeron softly, looking over at his brother, “she needs all the support she can get, even by just being beside her.” 

“You’re quite the wiseman, you know?” Aegon looked over at his little brother, surprised at his words of wisdom. Daeron cracked a smile, 

“Why does everyone say that to me?” Aegon now let out a laugh, his lips curling into a smile. 

“Perhaps you were just born a wiseman, unlike your peers.” Aegon began to climb out of the water, reaching for his towel on the nearby ottoman. Aegon wraps it around his waist, and gives one last look at Daeron. 

“I know leaving Dorne was not what you wanted,” he mentioned. Daeron looked up at Aegon, “I’m sorry. Perhaps things will change, and you can go back and finish what you started.” 

Rhaenys

The Iron Throne Room

Princess Rhaenys, the Hand of the Queen, returned from the battlefront in Dorne to preside over court and the Small Council weeks ago, as the Queen secluded herself to privacy in her apartments. Rhaenys stood outside the main doors that led into the hall of the throne room, waiting patiently for her name to be announced, and she could enter and preside over court.

The doors slowly swing open, and a court attendant can be heard announcing her name, 

“Presenting the Hand of the Queen, Princess Rhaenys Velaryon-Targaryen.” Court had been in session for several minutes already, and Rhaenys noticed that several of her council members were already attending. Queen Alicent had yet to make an appearance, and Rhaenys noticed a strange silence over the room, as courtiers and ladies-in-waiting watched her closely.

As she approached the Iron Throne, Rhaenys thought back to the Great Council, how close she had been to being named heir, and the next Queen, yet still so far away. Every step felt like a thousand. Once again, she climbed the steps to the throne, sitting in for Queen Rhaenyra on her behalf. She took her place on the seat of swords and sat for a moment, allowing herself to breathe. The court was filled with faces of lords and ladies from all across the Seven Kingdoms. 

Nearly all of the Great Houses were present, and Rhaenys took her time looking over the various faces of the nobles. Most of the Great Houses sent representatives on their behalf, men and women representing the Vale, the Riverlands, the North, the Westerlands, the Iron Islands, and the Reach. She continued her visual scan of the room, looking over as many people as she could.

The debate had started as soon as Princess Rhaenys took her seat. On the floor below the dais, Lord Forrest Frey and Lady Elayne Tyrell argued over the future of the government. Forrest Frey was the ruling lord of the Twins in the Riverlands, just one of many representatives present from the Riverlands. Elayne Tyrell served as the representative of Highgarden, on behalf of her younger sister, the ruling Regent of the Reach, Elinor. Propositions had been made, but Rhaenys was careful not to take sides either way, despite the fact it was becoming far more entangled and difficult every moment they spoke. 

“Lady Tyrell,” Forrest Frey said, “I understand the issue from your point of view. You have many lords to represent, possibly far more than in the Riverlands. But I feel it is only fair to give every House the same number of seats in the new Chamber of Lords. Do you not?” Forrest Frey was a balding man, his hair still brown, but a large patch missing on the top of his head. Elayne Tyrell, the same age as Forrest, sported flowing dark brown hair, flawless skin, and a thin, tall stature. 

“How would the North and the Iron Islands have the same amount of seats, and power, as the Reach or the Westerlands?” Lady Elayne kept her focus on Princess Rhaenys, unwilling to directly look at Lord Forrest, fearing the argument could go off the rails. Princess Rhaenys nodded subtly to the younger Lady Elayne, she agreed with her, silently.

“And I see that the values of the Reach - the extreme values of Highgarden - seek to empower the smallfolk.” scoffed Lord Forrest. 

“We’re talking about lords,” Lady Elayne was quick to respond, “The Reach is the most populous region in our Kingdom. And yet you would give us the same amount of representation as the Iron Islands? Where is the logic in that, Lord Frey?” Elayne turned to look at Forrest with wide eyes. 

“There’s precedence. Each Great House has one Lord. Each kingdom has one Warden, one Paramount. We are all equal in this throne room, beneath her grace, the Queen.” insisted Forrest.  

Princess Rhaenys soon had had enough. As the conversation between the two continued to escalate, their voices rising, Rhaenys cut them both off, 

“Lord Frey, Lady Tyrell,” the two looked up to the Princess in silence, “I think that is enough for today. It is obvious we are not getting anywhere today, we can continue this topic at a later date. Maybe new arguments will come to us all after we retire for the evening. Until then, the court is dismissed.” 

As the court began to shuffle out of the hall, Rhaenys slowly stood up. She moved down the dais, watching with a keen eye as Lord Frey spoke to his allies. She tried to listen in on their conversation. Rhaenys slowly edged over to Lord Frey, so she could hear their conversation better. She kept her distance, staying careful not to be noticed. As she moved, she could hear snippets of the conversation between the four men. 

Rhaenys watched their mouths move, the words of their whispered conversation drifting across the room to her ears. The sound was low and indistinct, and only when she managed to catch individual words could she make sense of the whispering. 

“Can’t allow…” 

“Power in the…” 

“Unacceptable…” 

Though she could hear some of the words, it was the tone of the men that was truly interesting. They spoke urgently, like they were in a hurry. As Rhaenys tried to listen more, she was approached by Lady Elayne and Lady Jacinta Marbrand of Ashford. She was so focused on the men that she didn’t notice the two ladies until they were just a few feet away from her. Rhaenys gathered her composure and turned to look at the two ladies. 

“Lady Tyrell, what a spirited debate,” smiled Rhaenys, “and Lady Marbrand, I trust you’re also well this afternoon?” 

“Ah yes, I was ready to keep going.” chuckled Lady Elayne. 

“Yes, this was actually quite a stimulating conversation.” added Lady Jacinta. Lady Jacinta was a tall woman, nearly the same height as Rhaenys. She had a slender frame and a pale complexion, her hair slick black in color and tied together in three rounding braids down her back. Her face was long and angular, wearing a pointed necklace and golden bracelets. She had deep green eyes and quite a serious expression. “And Princess, how goes the war in Dorne? Do you miss being on the battlefield on dragonback?” Lady Jacinta asked with some eagerness. 

“The war in Dorne has stalled somewhat… we have yet to track down the entirety of House Martell, they keep eluding us.” sighed Rhaenys with some disappointment. “But in terms of the battlefield, I do miss being out there at times. However, I have my duties here in the Red Keep to keep me quite busy.” 

“When do you expect us to wrap up the formation of the new Chamber?” asked Lady Elayne in a low voice, “We’ve been at this debate for seat apportionment for about a week and a half now.” Rhaenys nodded, she too was tired of the ongoing debate that was monotonous at this point. The formation of the new Chamber of Lords was being left up to the six Great Houses, however, unfortunately, the Houses were split evenly on the last few remaining matters. The rules, order, and protocols of the Chamber was all being settled by the Great Houses. They each had one vote. The Reach, the Westerlands, and the Vale wanted seats allocated to their kingdoms based on population density - the more populous the region, the more representatives they would send to the Chamber. The North, the Riverlands, and the Iron Islands were opposed to that and wanted an equal number of representatives for each kingdom. It would be up to the Houses themselves to convince one another of which side to support, with the Hand moderating and presiding over the debates. Queen Rhaenyra wanted to ensure that the Houses were able to make the decision for themselves, without the Crown pressing its thumb on the scales. Rhaenys was often asked her opinion, but she never uttered a single word on which side she supported. 

“We have to find agreement on seat apportionment,” said Rhaenys, “and after that, we have to determine how members are chosen to the Chamber. Then, the Chamber shall begin its work.” Rhaenys said with a hopeful smile. Lady Elayne was not convinced that they’d find agreement anytime soon, and she showed it in her disappointed demeanor. 

“I suspect we will be at it for another fortnight,” said Lady Jacinta. 

“The alliance that the North, Iron Islands, and Riverlands has is firm… but I am sure there are some lesser Houses that do not want to go along with them.” noted Rhaenys quietly, “Find the cracks in their walls.” 

Alicent 

Red Keep Gardens

Dowager Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena sat together on a veranda, shielded from the warmth of the sun by a canopy. The garden surrounding them was a peaceful sanctuary, with high shrubs and bushes, all hiding away the clamor of the city. Alicent’s attention was focused on the task of hearing marriage proposals for her youngest son, Daeron. The presence of so many nobles from across the Seven Kingdoms, due to the formation of the new government, presented an opportunity to find a suitable match for her youngest child. 

The Dowager Queen and Princess met with five noble lords already, each having at least one daughter to offer to Prince Daeron in marriage, along with some kind of dowry: castles, land, armies, ships, and the like. However, two of those lords already posed questions about Aemond’s status, and whether he would be available for marriage as well. Alicent had to quickly divert the conversation whenever her middle son came up in conversation. 

They were now sitting with the Lord of Crakehall, Lanor of House Crakehall, and his daughter, Meira. Lanor and his daughter stood before the Dowager Queen and the Princess, exchanging pleasant greetings. This was the first time Alicent ever met the Lord of Crakehall. Crakehall was a rather large castle situated on the western seaboard, nearly two hundred miles south of Lannisport. 

“Lord Crakehall, it is a pleasure to meet you and your daughter,” said Alicent, extending her hand with a cordial smile, “I trust your journey to King’s Landing was not too taxing?” Lanor Crakehall bowed respectfully and took Alicent’s hand, gently kissing her hand in a courteous manner. Meira curtsied before the former Queen. 

“Your grace,” began Lanor, “our journey was quite pleasant, thank you for your concern. May I present to you my eldest daughter, Meira, she is seven-and-ten.” the two guests sat down in the two chairs facing Alicent and Helaena. “Her marriage to Prince Daeron would offer Prince Daeron the seat of Crakehall, as well as its reserve army of fifteen-hundred men from the nearby towns and villages.” 

Alicent’s interest piqued, and she glanced at Meira before looking back at Lanor. Meira was a pretty girl, she had dark features, dark eyes and thick eyebrows, and curly brown hair.

“Do tell, Lord Lanor. Why is it that your eldest would not become Lady of Crakehall?” 

“Well, your grace,” Lanor held his hands together as he leaned back in his seat, “it is our House’s tradition to pass down our seat to the eldest male heir. However, I have no sons. My wife passed away a few years ago, so the likelihood of my having a son are slim to none.”

“Yes, I am aware, that is the custom across most of the Seven Kingdoms.” noted Alicent, “you hold true to your values, I see. And I must point out, that with this union, the surname Crakehall would cease to exist after a generation, giving way to Targaryen. Is that something you are prepared for?” she asked curiously. 

“Yes, your grace. I am fully aware of the consequences of this union, and I am prepared to accept them for the sake of joining our two Houses.” he responded. The Lord was stoic in his response. Alicent would have assumed the man would have felt threatened to lose his surname to history. But alas, he had only daughters, it was bound to happen.

“But, I must not rule out another possibility,” said the Lord, “remarriage.” Alicent’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go in that direction, the focus was to find Daeron a wife, not a new lady wife for a widower. Helaena looked between Lanor and her mother. She noticed the way Lanor was looking at her with interest, a deep gaze. 

“Remarriage is certainly an option,” said Alicent plainly. Lanor realized that Alicent was not getting the hint, and he smiled and lowered his head for a moment. 

“Well,” Lanor cleared his throat, “either way, my line becomes minor, unless I were to remarry and have a son.” 

“We have much to deliberate on,” said Alicent, “I thank you for your time, Lord Crakehall.” she said with an innocent smile, indicating she was done with the conversation. Lord Crakehall and his daughter Meira stood up. The daughter curtsied and the Lord bowed his head. 

“Always an honor and pleasure, your grace.” 

Alicent sat silently after dismissing Lord Crakehall and his daughter, her mind reeling at the implication of his words. However, Helaena picked up on the subtext rather immediately, and wasted no time bringing it up. 

“Mummy,” said Helaena softly. Alicent turns with her ears and eyes perked. “He was hinting at marrying you.” said the Princess. 

“W-what?” chuckled the Dowager Queen in a chuckle, “you think he directed that at me?” she couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. The thought of marrying again and leaving King’s Landing seemed ridiculous to her. Helaena nodded her head sincerely. Alicent leaned in closer to her daughter, her voice resolute, 

“I have no desire to leave the capital,” she said firmly, “my place is here, serving the Queen. Besides, I have enough children to take care of, I do not need to start a new family at my age.” Helaena understood her mother. Raising four children and serving as Queen is no easy or restful task. It was taxing, and Helaena saw how it affected her mother over the years. Years of anxiety, years of stress, years of battling men with words in the Small Council.

Helaena sulked in her seat, and Alicent noticed the down expression on the princess’s face. She reached out to place a comforting hand on Helaena’s knee. She knew that Helaena’s heart was still heavy from Jacaerys’ departure. 

“Helaena, love,” spoke Alicent softly, her voice carrying some sorrow, “I know you hoped for a life with Jacaerys, but sometimes… fate has other plans for us.” 

“Do you even approve of Aemond wanting to be with Jacaerys?” asked Helaena. 

“It’s complicated, Helaena,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “While I understand that Aemond’s feelings for Jacaerys may be … genuine, I cannot deny that I am worried. I simply cannot fathom such a thing - a love like that. A marriage like that.” her eyes widened, the Dowager Queen was at a loss. She missed her son, she wanted him home, she wanted him to be happy and live a simple, uncomplicated, life. 

Helaena rose up from her seat, and Alicent sensed some seriousness in her daughter’s demeanor. She looks up at Helaena, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Helaena fixed her mother with a steady gaze, her voice firm but filled with some defiance, 

“Mother,” she said, holding her hands together at her front, “should we always be bound by what we cannot fathom? What if their love is genuine, and it brings them happiness?” Alicent remained silent, her eyes slowly drifting away from her daughter as she pondered. Helaena did not feel like waiting for her mother to respond, and after a few moments, she headed for the path, leading back to the Red Keep. 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

The Queen laid motionless on the golden and white ottoman in her private residence, her eyes fixed on the slow-moving clouds that passed by the opened balcony doors. The food her handmaiden had set out for her sat untouched, growing cold. The absence of Jacaerys, her firstborn, left a deep ache in her heart, consuming her thoughts. She tried to get her body to move, to find some energy to get up and do something, but the weight of her sadness held her hostage. 

The doors to the residence opened and Ser Harrold announced the arrival of Prince Aegon. Aegon was freshened up, his silver gold hair neatly brushed and tucked behind his ears. He walked over to the sitting area and knelt beside Rhaenyra, gently taking her hand in his. He studied her face, noting her distant and melancholy expression. The untouched food on the table only served as a glaring reminder of her lack of appetite. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he spoke, 

“Rhaenyra,” he whispered, “won’t you look at me? Have you eaten at all today?” Aegon tilted his head slightly, looking up at his wife. Rhaenyra continued to look out the balcony doors. She slowly blinked, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. He could see the pain and heartbreak etched on her face and his own heart ached. He held her hand tighter, his voice gentle, filled with love and concern, 

“Please Rhaenyra, say something. Talk to me. Let me in.” Aegon waited patiently. Rhaenyra took a deep breath. She turned to look at Aegon. Her eyes were reddened and slightly swollen. She lifted her hand, removing it out of Aegon’s touch. She rested her hand on her lap. Aegon’s heart sank as Rhaenyra pulled away from such a gentle touch. He could sense her withdrawal only growing, her unwillingness to open and share her pain, continuing to grow. 

Aegon lowered his head with resignation, 

“I see,” he murmured, “if you do not wish to speak, then I shall not force you. But I am here for you, my love. Always here.” he slowly stood up. Rhaenyra watched as Aegon walked towards the bedroom and began to rummage through his clothes, preparing to change into something more comfortable. The pang of guilt washed over her, realizing that her silence had hurt her husband. She knew that he longed to help her and comfort her, but she struggled to find the words. Aegon disappeared into the room, she could no longer see him. 

“Aegon,” she said weakly, but no response. “Aegon.” she said louder. Aegon popped his head out into the large doorway. Rhaenyra had wide eyes and Aegon went to her immediately. 

“Yes?” he asked as he approached her. Rhaenyra sat up and Aegon sat down on the ottoman beside her. She slumped into his arms and let out a tired exhale. She sniffled and began to weep silently. Aegon held his wife closely, letting her rest her head on his neck and shoulder as she cried. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her dearly. 

“It’s alright,” whispered Aegon, caressing her back, “It’s alright,” he repeated. Rhaenyra inhaled deeply, trying to compose herself, but she was finding it difficult. She pulled back from Aegon’s hug to look into his eyes. 

“Why would Jacaerys not respond to my letters, not write back,” she said, at a loss. Aegon gently wiped away a tear from Rhaenyra’s cheek with his thumb. He could feel her pain and desperation, and her need to understand Jacaerys’ silence. 

“I wish I had the answer for you,” said Aegon softly, “I know what it feels like to be left in the dark.” Aegon’s hand gently rested on Rhaenyra’s small pregnant belly, his touch tender and soothing. He caressed her belly in a comforting gesture. “But he is your first born, Jacaerys loves you, he will come back.” he said with firm reassurance. Even though Aegon was not sure how much longer this would go on, he had to give his wife hope. 

Aegon’s eyes remained fixed on Rhaenyra as she composed herself after shedding her tears. He watched as she patted away the evidence of her grief, his own heart aching at the pain he knew still simmered within her. As she looked up at him and nodded subtly, he felt a flutter of hope that she might be starting to find a small measure of comfort in him. Feeling her rub his hand with her own, Aegon squeezed hers in return. 

Aegon tenderly pushed back a few loose strands of Rhaenyra’s messy silver-gold hair, his touch gentle and loving. He carefully tucked the strands behind her ears, his fingers lightly caressing her face. As her hair cascaded down her shoulders and back in untamed waves, Aegon couldn’t help but admire her natural beauty. He studied her face, taking in the sight of her, his heart swelling with love for her. 

The Prince’s mind wandered, contemplating if he should go to Dragonstone himself to talk to his brother and Jacaerys. He could try to persuade them to come home. However, he was well aware of the reason why they fled the capital in the first place: the weight of the Crown’s expectations pressing down on their shoulders. He let out a soft sigh, conflicted and unsure if his presence would be enough to change their minds… or make things worse. 

Aegon walked over to the small bar table at the other end of the sitting area that held a kettle of tea and poured two steaming cups. The delicious light herbal tea from Highgarden released a subtle honey aroma into the air. He carried the two cups over to Rhaenyra and handed one to her with a gentle smile. 

“Drink,” he said, sitting down beside her on the ottoman and handing her a cup. As she took a slow sip, the warmth and sweetness of the honey flavored tea began to soothe her nerves. Aegon took a sip himself. 

“I hear that court has been rather feisty lately,” continued Aegon, “with all the representatives of the Great and lesser Houses present. It seems like Rhaenys has her hands full. She’s had quite the time keeping them all in line.” he had a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Court has always been a breeding ground for chaos and competition,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with a hint of weakness, “it is no wonder that Rhaenys has her work cut out for her… but, I know she is doing it well. She is capable.” Aegon nodded and pondered for a moment before speaking gently, 

“Do you think you’ll have the strength to preside over court soon? I know the chaos misses you,” he said with kind eyes.

“I do not feel ready to face anyone yet, let alone all of court.” mentioned Rhaenyra. She held the cup of tea with both hands and cradled it on her lap. Her eyes drifted downward, focusing on the cup, and avoiding Aegon’s eyes. 

“The people need their Queen,” Aegon’s voice softened, filled with a mix of conviction and kindness, “the Realm needs your strength and guidance. The war in Dorne is going nowhere, and no dragons aid our armies. Rhaenys has the experience and skills needed to lead our men and turn the tide of the war in our favor. Perhaps… even sending Daeron back would help.” 

“You know that Alicent would become enraged,” sighed Rhaenyra, but she knew deep down that sending Daeron back to Dorne would prove useful; his prior involvement demonstrated that, “She would disagree with such a decision.” 

“Well, this war will drag on for even longer if we do not use any dragons.” said Aegon, almost pleading with his wife. Rhaenyra turned her head and looked back outside. She heard him loud and clear. It reminded her of the early days of the war, how the Small Council would pester her into sending as many dragons as she could to burn down all of Dorne, to burn them into submission. 

“I will think about it,” said Rhaenyra. Aegon nodded and gave a small smile. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on Rhaenyra’s cheek. He lingered for a moment, studying her face, hoping to see a hint of a smile grace her lips. And as she almost smiled, his heart warmed and he felt at ease. He was making progress with her. 

“I love you,” said Aegon, staring into his wife’s eyes. 

“I know.” 

Aemond & Jacaerys

Dragonstone

On Dragonstone, Aemond and Jacaerys lived a life of privacy and intimacy in an almost empty castle. They were surrounded by a handful of servants and a couple hundred knights, all of whom did not bother them. The men and women who served them kept their silence, but they couldn’t help but notice the longing glances the two young men shared. Each night, they slept in the same bedroom, they feasted and dined together, united in their company. 

As the evening settled in after dinner, Aemond and Jacaerys were in the privacy of their bedroom, lying together in a warm embrace, under a cozy blanket. Their bodies were bare, their skin touching sensually as they held one another. Their love and affection for each other was palpable in the intimate atmosphere. Jacaerys laid his head on Aemond’s chest, with Aemond leaning his back against the headboard of the bed. 

Aemond’s fingers trailed gentle circles around Jace’s upper arm and shoulder. Jace held one hand over Aemond’s toned chest, slowly caressing him as well. However, Jace slowly shifted, maneuvering himself to sit on Aemond’s bare lap, and on his soft cock. He put his hands on Aemond’s broad shoulders, settling into his lover’s lap, feeling his cock right underneath his balls, near his hole. 

Jace looked deeply into Aemond’s blue eye, his expression filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. Aemond’s hands found their way to Jace’s hips, his fingers gently gripping and pressing into his skin. Aemond couldn’t help but smirk, his gaze growing more intense as their bodies came even closer. 

Aemond’s smirk grew wider as Jacaerys leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on his soft lips. Aemond returned the kiss, moving a single hand from his hip to gently cup the back of his head, pulling him in closer. Aemond savored the moment, the feel of Jace’s lips against his own fueled a burning fire in his chest, and a growing heat in his cock. 

Jace started to roll his hips, grinding himself into Aemond’s cock. Aemond groaned softly, maintaining his lips on Jace’s. He felt his cock getting harder, as Jace rubbed his own cock and balls against his. Jace’s cock grew hard quickly. Aemond’s breath hitched and then let out a low groan. His hands grew tighter on Jace’s head, his fingers digging into his hair. The silver haired prince slowly moved his hips as well, matching Jace’s movements. Aemond’s cock poked Jace’s hole, and the brown haired prince gasped softly. 

“You’re mine and I’m yours,” Aemond spoke in a deep and seductive voice, his lips grazing over Jace’s ear, “I want you badly.” Jace’s heart fluttered at Aemond’s whispered words and his lips curled into a soft smile. He leaned even closer, his chest leaning against Aemond’s, their breaths mingling with one another. 

“I need you, badly.” whispered Jace. Aemond suddenly took charge, flipping Jace onto his back and swiftly moving on top of him, trapping him between his strong muscular legs. Aemond looked down at Jace, his eye dark with desire, a hint of smile playing on his lips. 

Jace held onto Aemond’s biceps, his eyes wide and filled with anticipation. Aemond could see the yearning in his gaze, and knew that Jace was ready and more than ready for what was to come. Aemond slowly lowered, holding his lips just inches away from Jace’s. His breath came in short bursts as he took in the sight of his beloved laying beneath him, glancing back and forth between Jace’s eyes and lips. 

Aemond began to grind his hips into Jace, pushing his cock against Jace’s. Aemond’s cock slid beside Jace’s, both of them throbbing from each thrust. Jace gasped slightly, wrapping one hand around the back of Aemond’s neck to keep his face low and close. Jace then closed his eyes, savoring the thrusts that Aemond gave him. 

“Ugh I just want you in me,” said Jace softly, with a hint of impatience. Aemond’s lips curled into a smirk. He then leaned down to lather Jace’s neck and chest in kisses. He lifted his body up off of Jace and positioned himself at his hole. Aemond sat on his knees, holding his cock at Jace’s tight hole. Aemond spit and began to lubricate them both, his cock and Jace’s hole. He rubbed Jace’s hole with two fingers, spreading the saliva. He felt Jace’s hole throb slightly. Aemond then slid in three fingers at once, quickly loosening Jace. The brown haired prince gasped with some shock. 

“Is that okay?” asked Aemond carefully and quietly. Jace nodded quickly, 

“Yes.”   Aemond then slowly slid in his fingers deeper, slowly thrusting them in and out of Jace. Jace groaned softly, opening his eyes to look at Aemond. Aemond had a dark look in his eye, a combination of ferocity, desire, and craving. 

“You’re beautiful,” noted Aemond, slowing his fingering. Jace’s eyes and his brows softened. Aemond removed his fingers and without using his hands, placed his cock at Jace’s hole. Jace took in deep breaths, readying himself. Aemond slowly crawled back over Jace, keeping his cock at his hole, and slowly pushed in. Jace held his breath. 

“Breathe,” whispered Aemond, and Jace let out his breath. He relaxed, and Aemond was able to slide in with ease. Jace let out a moan as Aemond slid his entire cock inside of him. Aemond kept his body low and close to Jace, not waiting at all to begin thrusting in him. He could not hold back his primal desires. 

“Oh gods,” moaned Jace, closing his eyes for a moment. Aemond adored seeing Jace’s face react to the thickness and length of his cock in him. It was all Aemond’s; he was going to take him, mount him, and breed him. 

“Fuck,” moaned Aemond in a raspy voice. Jace opened his eyes and held Aemond’s face, pulling him in for a kiss. Jace let out a muffled moan as his lips were against Aemond’s, and Aemond began thrusting a bit faster. 

“Give me your dragon,” panted Jace, as Aemond lifted his face off of Jace’s. 

“Dohaeras,” groaned Aemond with a smirk, “you will serve me.” 

“I’m yours,” nodded Jace in a whimper. His fingers ran down the sides of Aemond’s back, ending with a clenching of Aemond’s ass cheeks. Aemond smirked and began thrusting hard, pounding Jace, causing the bed to shake and creak. Jacaerys began to moan, letting it out from deep within his chest. Aemond lowered his lips to kiss and suck on Jace’s nipple, moving from his left to the right. 

“Do you want my dragonseed?” teased Aemond in a raspy voice, his breath heavy as he continued to fuck hard. Jace nodded his head quickly. “Say it.” ordered Aemond. 

“I want,” Jace groaned, “your dragonseed.” 

“Fuck, yes,” Aemond breathed heavily, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He was close. He then looked back down at Jace with determined eyes, focusing, “I have a load of it for you, but you have to cum for me.” Jace continued to nod. Aemond started jerking Jace’s cock as he thrusted, and Jace gasped loudly, continuing to moan. 

“Oh Aemond, yes,” he cried out. Jace’s toes curled and his legs twitched as he came, his cock bursting cum onto his own belly and chest, some of it reaching his face. Aemond smirked and fucked harder, 

“Good boy,” Aemond lowered his body onto Jace, his breath on Jace’s face, feeling Jace’s cum on his own torso, “I’m cumming,” groaned Aemond loudly. He exhaled loud, short, breaths as he convulsed his hips, shooting his load deep inside of his lover. 

Aemond collapsed on top of Jace and Jace smiled, letting out a small chuckle of satisfaction and relief. 

“Oh fuck that was good,” Jace said with a breath of pleasure. 

“Yes,” panted Aemond, “yes it was.” his face was buried into Jace’s neck and hair. He slowly lifted himself up to kiss Jace, and then rolled over to lay beside him on the bed. 

They both stared up at the ceiling, the air filled with a comfortable silence as they relished in the afterglow of their intense sex. Aemond turned his head, studying Jace’s relaxed features, a small smile playing on his lips as he felt a deep contentment settle over him. Jace turned his head to meet Aemond’s gaze, and he started to smile. 

“What?” asked Jace in a light chuckle. 

“Nothing,” shrugged Aemond. He reached out to touch Jace’s hand, caressing it. Jace groaned and rolled out of bed, going over to a small vanity table to get a washcloth and clean himself. Aemond watched him walk away, staring at his plump ass as he went to get a towel. Jace carefully cleaned his body, wiping his face first, then his chest and belly, and then his cock. 

Near the vanity table was a desk, and laying on the desk were a small pile of letters. They were small scrolls he received from King’s Landing. He let out a soft sigh as he realized that they were from his mother, which he had previously ignored. He picked up one of the scrolls, as curiosity tugged at his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder at Aemond, who was lounging on the bed, and then back at the scrolls. 

“What is it?” asked Aemond. Jace rolled the scroll back up and set it back down on the desk, a mixture of guilt settling in his chest. 

“The letters from my mother.” he said shortly, walking back to the bed. Jace got back in bed and laid beside Aemond, cuddling up beside him. Aemond wrapped his arms around Jace as he joined him back in bed. He could sense the guilt and unease radiating from Jace and rubbed his arm, offering comfort and support. 

“You shouldn’t read those letters,” said Aemond softly, “they’re nothing but an attempt to guilt you and make you feel worse than you already do. Don’t put yourself through that.” 

“I know my mother,” sighed Jace with a light scoff, a tinge of sadness in his expression, “She is probably mourning my leaving.” He gulped and remained quiet. Aemond watched his love become visibly saddened, contemplating the impact of his disappearance on his mother. Aemond cupped Jace’s face, pulling him to look one another in the eye. 

“Going back to King’s Landing would spell the end of us. We can’t be together there. We would be at the mercy of their rules and traditions - our love would be forbidden,” Aemond’s voice became passionate with a flare of anger. Jace rarely saw this side of Aemond, if ever. “We would be torn apart, we have freedom here, we have our love here, we cannot give that up.” he continued. His face was tense. Aemond’s grip on Jace’s jaw and chin was tight, and Jace only looked back at him with wide eyes. Aemond realized how tight he was holding Jace, and released his grip. 

“One day,” Jace spoke weakly, “I will have to return when I become King. What if they try to take that away from me?” 

“I know... the throne is rightfully yours,” Aemond said with determination, knowing that the topic of returning would always be a touchy subject, “But we cannot control what will happen then. We must focus on what we have now - our love, our freedom.” Aemond sat up on his side in bed, his eyes looming over Jace, 

“If they try to take that away from you… we will fight for it.” 

Jacaerys began to caress Aemond’s face, studying his face with tenderness and love. Aemond’s eye softened as Jace held his hand right under his scarred eye, feeling the gentle touch of Jace’s fingers. 

“I miss the days we camped in the Riverlands,” said Jace, “just us and our dragons. No politics.” A small smile tugged at the corners of Aemond’s lips as he remembered their trip to the Riverlands. They camped in the outdoors, fought off against bandits, rode their dragons and nearly terrorized the smallfolk. A gentle sigh escaped Aemond’s lips as he reminisced. 

“As do I,” said Aemond quietly, “just us and the open skies.” 

“You kept me safe from those thieves,” Jace began to smile. 

“You fought one of them off pretty decently, I’d say.” chuckled Aemond. Jace laughed, 

“Do not poke fun at my fighting skills,” 

“I could never!” laughed Aemond, he nuzzled his lips into Jace’s neck and the two began to kiss. Aemond now rested his head on Jace’s chest and Jace held onto Aemond tightly. He rocked side to side slightly, both giving comfort and feeling comforted from the embrace.  

… 

The next morning, Aemond woke up just a few hours after sunrise, and woke up before Jacaerys. The sunlight poured into the bedroom brightly from the long wall of windows. Aemond watched Jace while he still slept, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out slowly, the way his long, messy curls fell into his face, the soft curve of his lips. Aemond couldn’t help himself, it was all he could do not to wake him up then and there, just to kiss him. 

Aemond got out of bed, careful not to wake his lover. He walked over to the desk on the other end of the apartment room, where the letters of Rhaenyra’s letters laid out in the open. He picked up one of the letters from the desk, his eye reading over the words while his mind wandered. Rhaenyra was always so concerned about Jacaerys, he even noted it during their childhood when they all once lived together in the Red Keep. It was almost humorous to think about. Aemond put the letter back down, and picked up another to read it. He wasn’t sure why he was even bothering to read them, when he already knew what they said. All pleas for Jacaerys to come back to King’s Landing and just talk to his dear mother. But, he felt the need to look regardless, if only to annoy himself. 

Aemond went over to a nearby armoire, opening the heavy wooden doors to take out a black and red robe. He tied the soft robe around his waist and slid on a pair of slippers. As he stepped out of the bedroom, the cold air hit his body, making him shiver slightly as he continued down the desolate corridor. He forgot how much colder Dragonstone gets compared to King’s Landing. Dragonstone was right out in the sea. 

The silver haired prince made his way down to the main level of the castle keep, running into a pair of servant girls on the way. They instantly greeted the prince, bowing their heads. Aemond told the servant girls that he wanted them to prepare breakfast, specifically Jacaerys’ favorite meal. A plate of hotcakes and eggs, covered in honey and sprinkled in cinnamon sugar, alongside a cup of strong tea. It was a meal Aemond knew that Jace loved, especially after a night of strenuous activity. He enjoyed spoiling Jace. 

Aemond continued on, approaching the entryway of the dimly lit war room, his eye looking over the large table that was carved to look like a map of Westeros. The room felt cold, lacking any warmth, except from the rays of sunlight pouring into the room. He couldn’t help but gaze at the table, admiring its craftsmanship, even though it was covered in dust and unused in gods know how long. 

Aemond slowly walked into the room, his mind wandering as he looked at the table. He wondered what it would be like to stand at the head of the table, Jacaerys by his side. Aemond could picture the scene - his advisors, lords, and knights, their voices, the smell of parchment filling the air. It was a glorious image, one that Aemond hoped would come to fruition in the future. 

The prince left the war room and proceeded to the dining hall at the turn of the corridor. Another servant girl approached Aemond with a handful of flowers, holding up to show him. He directed her yesterday, discreetly, to pick them across the island for him, to give to Jacaerys. The flowers were beautiful, and Aemond knew Jacaerys would love them. They were a mixture of different kinds, mainly white and yellow daisies, and purple and blue mountain wildflowers native to the island. Aemond took the flowers from the servant and thanked her. The servant girl bowed and quickly shuffled out of the room. 

Aemond walked alongside the long dining table, towards the end of it that was adjacent to a crackling fireplace. There were already some cups and dining silverware set up from the servants. Aemond put the flowers in one of the cups at the end of the table, between the two place-settings that faced one another. 

Shortly after, Prince Jacaerys entered the dining hall, his messy curls pushed back behind his ears, looking well-rested. He saw Aemond standing near the end of the table, looking into the fireplace, with his hands clasped behind his back. Simultaneously, two servant girls brought out their breakfast, placing down the plates at the table. Aemond turned around, smiling upon seeing Jace walking into the dining hall. Jace walked alongside one end of the table, and Aemond was at the other. They both watched and waited for the servants to leave the room. 

The two met at the head of the table, standing near the fireplace. They exchanged a kiss, and then took their seats at the table, the smell of the food making both of their stomachs growl. Aemond smiled as Jace’s face lit up with joy when he saw the food before him. Aemond was pleased to make his partner happier, even if it was just a simple breakfast. 

“I thought you’d like it,” said Aemond, “It’s been a while since you’ve had hotcakes.” 

“It has,” exclaimed Jace with excitement, he then noticed the flowers in front of his place setting. His eyes widened with surprise, he didn’t even notice the flowers at first, so distracted from the food in front of him. He reached for the bouquet, his fingers gently touching the petals of a daisy, and he admired their beautiful colors. “Where did these come from?” he turned his attention back to Aemond. 

“I asked the servants to find some flowers for you,” responded Aemond, his eye watching Jace closely, “I hope you like them.”

“They’re beautiful, Aemond. Thank you.” said Jace. Aemond smiled at Jacaerys’ appreciation, the sight of his partner blushing making him feel a warm, fluttery feeling in his chest. He started into his own meal, savoring the food, but enjoying the company of Jace even more. He occasionally looked up from his plate, watching Jace in an admiring gaze. 

Jace’s gaze met Aemond’s, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. He had only seen Aemond without the eyepatch in the privacy of their own company, such as in their bedroom, not in front of servants and the like. There was something about the eyepatch that always made Aemond look so severe, austere, and serious. Without it, he just looked… more boyish. 

Jace simply sat and enjoyed the quiet atmosphere, feeling a sense of serenity wash over him. The feeling of finally being free. No forced arrangements, no war, and no politics. 

Chapter Text

Daeron

The Red Keep

The young prince was spending his time having lunch with his mother and sister, in a quiet dining hall in the Red Keep. Alicent looked across the dining table at her youngest son, Daeron, who was hardly listening to her as she spoke about the potential marriage match to Meira Crakehall. He was barely touching his food, and his eyes seemed distant and unfocused. Alicent tried to catch his attention, raising her voice as she called his name. 

“Daeron! I am speaking to you.” Daeron looked up, being met with his mother’s stern eyes. 

“I hear you mother.” sighed Daeron. Alicent nodded, satisfied that she finally had his attention. Daeron muttered under his breath and Alicent raised her eyebrows in disapproval, her tone becoming sharper, 

“What was that?” 

Daeron clanged his silverware against his plate as he slammed them down against the table, looking at his mother with infuriated eyes. 

“It is preposterous that while I am serving the Realm by fighting in Dorne, I get dragged back to King’s Landing, and now sold off to marriage for the highest bidder. But, Aemond gets to shirk all his responsibilities, frolic on Dragonstone, and nobody goes after him.” Daeron knew deep down that Alicent also did not approve of Aemond having run off with Jacaerys, but she hadn’t said a word about it! 

Alicent’s eyes narrowed at her son’s tone but she kept her composure, her voice still firm as she looked at him, 

“You should focus on your own duties, not the ones of your brother.” she said sternly, “You are also a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and have a duty you must perform - part of that duty is marriage.” Daeron sulked into his seat, feeling completely defeated. 

“Daeron,” Alicent softened and sighed, “I know this is not easy. It is never easy for any of us. But you must understand that marriage is an important part of your duty. It is necessary for alliances and political stability that strengthens our House.” 

“I think among your sons, Aemond is the one who does not understand that.” snapped Daeron coldly. Alicent stood up and headed for the door. Helaena watched their mother leave, a slight frown on her face. She looked over at Daeron, who now sat alone at the other side of the table. Her expression softened slightly. 

“Do not be so hard on mother,” she said gently, “she has a lot on her shoulders.” 

“At the very least,” spoke Daeron, “I should be back in Oldtown, not here.” Helaena looks down at her plate of food, slowly continuing to eat her meal. She nodded in agreement with her brother’s words, too. She knew how he essentially grew up in Oldtown, serving their grandfather and the Hightowers. In Dorne, he found his true purpose, fighting alongside the Targaryen army. 

“Dragons breathe fire,” Helaena muttered as she focused on her meal, “but the light is green and red.” 

“What?” asked Daeron. Helaena looked up at her little brother, 

“It crackles, but does not burn.” Helaena’s voice was almost dream-like. Daeron was at a loss, puzzled by Helaena’s cryptic statement. Helaena sensed Daeron’s stare, knowing he was confused. But, she knew he would figure it out eventually. Helaena’s mind wanders as she spoke the riddle, her thoughts going to places only she can understand. Perhaps she is reflecting on the meaning of her own words, or maybe she is thinking about something entirely different. Even in her own mind, sometimes she cannot place exactly where her thoughts are. They are rarely grounded. But one thing is certain - she knows something that the rest of her family do not.  

Daeron looks at his sister as she continues to eat, his eyes fixed on her face. He can tell that there is something on her mind, a secret that she is not saying directly. He studies her expression intently, trying to figure out what it is. The more Daeron studied Helaena’s features, the more he realized just how pretty she is. Her silver-gold hair falls down her back in loose curls, with just two long braids wrapped to the back of her head, framing her face. Her hazel eyes are large and expressive, but there is also a hint of sadness in them, like she is carrying a heavy burden on her shoulders.  

As he looked at his sister, watching the different emotions play across her face. He feels somewhat guilty, knowing that the situation with Jacaerys and Aemond must be difficult for her. She was supposed to marry Jacaerys, she was supposed to be Queen after Rhaenyra. And as he looked at her, he realized that she deserves love as much as anyone else. She was always a kind and gentle soul. 

He considered the possibility of being the one to give her the love she deserves. It is a strange and unexpected thought, but the Targaryen norm and custom. The more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense to him. 

“I don’t think,” Daeron broke the silence between him and Helaena, “that I want to marry Meira Crakehall and go to the Westerlands.” the two eyed one another from across the table. Helaena’s expression was curious and she set down her fork, giving him her full attention, 

“Why not?” 

“I do not envision myself doing that,” Daeron said gently, “it doesn’t seem like the path set out for me.” 

“Well, if not her, then what will you do? Who will you marry?” she asked. She could tell that he was feeling conflicted, torn between what he wanted and what was expected of him. 

“I do not know,” Daeron said quietly, looking into Helaena’s eyes, “I do not know…”

Rhaenyra

The Queen remained in her bed, her body heavy as she continued to lay unmoving, her face turned to her left. Her eyes were listlessly staring out the window, the clear blue sky offering some little comfort. The sunlight streamed into the room, casting a soft glow on her unmade bed and messy sheets. She didn’t want to get up. The thought of facing the day seemed like an impossible task, and so she remained, paralyzed by her melancholy. 

Rhaenyra shivered slightly as a gust of cool air blew in through the open windows. She felt the chill against her skin, a stark reminder that the warm days of summer were gone, and autumn had arrived. Her thoughts wandered to the baby growing within her, wondering when it would be born, and what season would welcome its arrival. She didn’t want her child to come into the world during the cold winter. She silently pleaded that winter would be short-lived, that her baby would be born in the warm, comforting embrace of spring.

Rhaenyra’s movements were slow and labored as she forced herself out of bed, feeling an ache in her lower back, which had been a constant companion of hers as her pregnancy progressed. She made her way to her wardrobe and opened doors. Her eyes wandering over the array of dresses hanging neatly on the hangers. The sight of the gowns did little to inspire her, as she felt far too exhausted to even consider changing into one. 

Rhaenyra entered the living room, noting the unusual quiet and emptiness of the space. Her eyes landed on a covered platter on a small dining table, the silver dome sparkling under the soft sunlight. She walked over to it and lifted the dome, revealing a plate of fried eggs, two slices of buttered toast, and sliced apples. The sight and scent of the food stirred her appetite, and she felt her belly grumble in response. 

Her eyes widened slightly as she spotted the single rose lying amongst the food, the deep red petals standing out against the colors on the plate. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze moved to a small note on the plate, its words simply stating “from Aegon” in neat handwriting. She lifted the flower and smelled its sweet petals, then took her seat, and began to dig into the meal. 

A few moments later, Prince Aegon entered the room, his eyes immediately falling on Rhaenyra at the dining table. He was pleased to see that she was indeed eating the breakfast he had left for her, a warm smile spreading across his face as he approached. 

“I see you are enjoying your breakfast,” said Aegon, walking over to Rhaenyra. He stood beside her and kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“I think fine,” Rhaenyra let out a deep exhale. Aegon recognized it as one of relaxation, and he rubbed her shoulders, his touch was warm and comforting to her. 

“You seem a bit more relieved.” noted Aegon, he leaned down to kiss Rhaenyra on her cheek. Rhaenyra turned her head, into Aegon’s kiss. She didn’t want him to stop. Aegon pulled up the chair next to her, sitting right beside her. He held his lips across her cheek, and as Rhaenyra turned, her lips met his. Aegon couldn’t help but smile as their lips met in a sweet kiss. He pushed in more forcefully, deepening the kiss, his hand moving from her shoulder to cup her face, tilting her face slightly to better access her mouth. A spark of fire ignited in his chest, the heat growing between the both of them. 

Rhaenyra pulled back for just a moment and Aegon gazed into her eyes. Her eyes were filled with comfort, and he tenderly traced his thumb across her cheek. He relished in the feeling of her skin against his touch. 

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on her face. A soft blush spread across Rhaenyra’s cheeks and leaned her face against his hand. She closed her eyes and Aegon continued to caress her face softly. It had been many nights since Aegon touched Rhaenyra, since she even allowed him to. She hadn’t felt in the mood to be touched for days, possibly weeks at this point.  

Aegon took this as an opportunity to give his wife all his affection since she was taking it. He moved his hand to rest on Rhaenyra’s inner thigh, his touch warm and gentle. He began to rub it gently, sliding his hands underneath her nightgown, touching her bare skin. Her skin was soft, supple, and hot. He looked at her intently, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched her reaction. Rhaenyra looked deeply into Aegon’s eyes. She reached for his own inner thigh, rubbing his thigh, then moving to feel his bulge. 

Rhaenyra got off her chair and sat on Aegon’s lap, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively reached out to support her with his hands, resting them firmly on her hips as she settled down. He realized she had no underwear underneath her gown, and he could feel the heat emanating from her groin. Rhaenyra kissed Aegon passionately, and Aegon began to roll Rhaenyra’s hips, grinding her slowly against his bulge. 

Rhaenyra could feel Aegon’s round, firm, bulge becoming firmer as she rubbed her bare cunt against it. Aegon let out a muffled groan as he continued to press his lips firmly against Rhaenyra’s, exchanging saliva as their tongues met. Aegon flexed his cock, and Rhaenyra felt it, letting out a soft gasp. She stopped kissing Aegon to look into his eyes. Aegon felt ready, but looked into Rhaenyra’s eyes, waiting for her permission. 

Rhaenyra reached down and unzipped Aegon’s pants, and she did not even bother removing his pants. Aegon’s cock slumped out of his opened zipper, immediately growing erect, and pointing upward. Rhaenyra leaned upward, placing her cunt right on Aegon’s cock. She slowly sat downward, and his cock entered her. The two groaned and gasped softly, with Rhaenyra closing her eyes and holding onto Aegon far tighter. 

She rolled her hips rhythmically, bouncing on Aegon’s cock with confidence. Aegon dug his fingers into Rhaenyra’s upper back, keeping her close. He felt the urge to just tear off her night gown and feel her breasts. He couldn’t withstand the clothes between them, preventing their bodies fully being one, together. Aegon tore open Rhaenyra’s gown from her front, immediately beginning to suck on one of her nipples, licking around it, and gently biting it. 

Rhaenyra moaned softly, digging her own fingers into Aegon’s silver gold hair that was becoming messied from their fucking. 

“Oh gods, yes,” groaned Aegon. He looked up at Rhaenyra, watching her face as she threw her head back in utter pleasure, “I’ve wanted you so badly,” he panted. 

“I’ve wanted you,” whimpered Rhaenyra softly, looking back down at Aegon. She cupped his face and he held her body close to his as she continued to bounce on his throbbing, stiff, cock. “I’ve needed you, badly,” added Rhaenyra. Aegon widened his legs, spreading out his feet that were planted on the floor, giving more support to Rhaenyra. He looked into her eyes with a mixture of ferocity and a flare of possessiveness. 

“Oh Aegon,” moaned Rhaenyra, she began to grind her hips harder into Aegon. 

“Fuck,” murmured Aegon, “I’m close.” 

“Oh fuck,” Rhaenyra gasped silently, and Aegon recognized she was cumming. He started to move his hips, pushing up from his feet on the floor, he growled and wanted to keep going. “Gods, yes,” moaned Rhaenyra, she could no longer move her hips herself, paralyzed by the orgasm. Aegon breathed heavily, his voice raspy as he came,

“Oh fuck, yes,” he exclaimed, cumming inside of her. Rhaenyra held onto Aegon’s hair tightly, holding his face close to her chest as he ejaculated. Aegon twitched, his body convulsed slightly, letting it all out of his cock. He held onto Rhaenyra as he slumped back into his chair. Rhaenyra opened her eyes, looking down at Aegon. She caressed his face, pushing back his loose strands of hair. She leaned down and kissed him, holding her lips on his for a moment.

After their passionate session, Aegon and Rhaenyra made their way to the bedroom, their bodies still tinged with the afterglow of pleasure. They laid down in bed together, Rhaenyra cocooned within Aegon’s arms, being spooned by him. His bare chest was pressed against her back, his softened cock right at her ass, and their legs intertwined. Aegon held his hands at Rhaenyra’s torso, holding her hands. He let out a content sigh. 

“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed this.” Aegon said, his voice quiet, a soothing murmur against Rhaenyra’s ear as he whispered his confession. His breath tickled hers kin, sending a small shiver down her spine. He leaned in further and kissed her earlobe, and the corners of her lips curled into a smile. 

“I’ve missed you…” whispered Rhaenyra, “I’ve missed myself, too…” she admitted. Aegon tightened his arms around her, holding her even closer, as if he were protecting her from the pain she was experiencing. His brow furrowed, the realization of the depth of her struggle was evident on his face. 

“You’ve been through a lot, Rhaenyra.” he said softly, “I wish I could take it all away.” 

“This is what my reign will be,” sighed Rhaenyra, “One obstacle after the next. One blow after the next. One battle after the next.” Aegon listened intently to her words, his heart was heavy with empathy and a sense of shared empathy. He knew that being a ruler meant facing a never-ending barrage of challenges. He gently caressed her hair, hoping to alleviate some of her stress, even if temporarily. 

“You are not alone,” reminded Aegon, “all of your obstacles, blows, and battles… I shall be your sword and shield.” Rhaenyra turned to lay on her back, looking up at Aegon with wide eyes. He still kept one arm underneath her neck, and the other he rested on her slightly swollen, pregnant, belly. 

“What is it?” asked Aegon. 

“Never would I have anticipated this from you… all those years ago.” she admitted with a small smile of awe. 

“Huh,” Aegon pondered aloud, “neither would I.” he chuckled, and Rhaenyra smiled. 

Elayne Tyrell

The Red Keep

While in the privacy of her guest apartment in the Red Keep, Lady Elayne sat in contemplation, her mind swirling with the thoughts of the Chamber of Lords. Court would be beginning soon, but she needed to meet with her political allies. The proposal was groundbreaking, the opportunities it presented to wield influence like never seen before, was very tempting. However, there were risks involved, especially given the delicate web of alliances and ambitions at play. Elayne’s eyes flicked over to the door as a knock echoed through the room. 

“Come in,” she called out, composing herself. The door creaked open, revealing a serving girl, dressed in plain clothes. The girl curtsied respectfully before speaking, 

“Excuse me, my lady,” her voice soft but clear, “your guests have arrived.” 

“Ah, excellent.” The serving girl stepped aside, and entered the room were five individuals. They all greeted Lady Elayne respectfully and with content. She guided her guests to the main sitting area in her apartment. They were nobles who were also serving as representatives of their noble houses and their provinces of the Realm. From the Westerlands were Lady Jacinta of Ashford and Lord Jason Lannister of Lannisport. From the Vale was Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Eyrie, the Warden of the Vale, and then the Lord of Gulltown. Lord Sander of House Grafton ruled over the largest city north of the Trident. 

“It is a pleasure to see you all,” Elayne greeted her guests, many of which she was good friends with. Lady Elayne and Lady Jacinta were perhaps the closest, close confidants and political operators. Elayne had met Lady Jeyne just twice before, first taking her as a cold and distant woman, but soon Jeyne shared her similar ideals to Elayne. Lord Sander Grafton was someone Elayne did not have the opportunity to speak much to, other than quick greetings in court. 

“I am grateful that you have taken the time to come and share your thoughts before court. But first, let’s refresh ourselves.” The serving girl immediately came forward with an elaborate arrangement of pastries, fruits, and beverages. She placed them down on a small tea table between the two long couches, where the guests sat. Elayne took her seat at a single chair that sat perpendicular to the two couches. 

Lady Jacinta poured herself a cup of tea and leaned forward to say, “I must admit, I did not think this Chamber of Lords would be so… controversial for some of our noble peers.” 

“Indeed,” Lady Jeyne spoke up with a thoughtful expression on her face, “the northern alliance is formidable. I have tried speaking to House Tully about joining our cause, but they seem to be willing to go along with House Frey.”

Lord Jason Lannister, who had been listening quietly, now spoke up, his tone serious, 

“The Tullys are being led by a boy, they are being easily swayed by the river lords. We must look elsewhere.” 

“Should we consider finding some sort of compromise with the northern alliance?” asked Lord Sander Grafton.  

“Perhaps,” Lady Elayne agreed, “A compromise might be the only way forward without instigating an open conflict. The only way this Chamber finally gets off the ground.” 

“But in compromising,” Lady Jacinta voiced with some concern, “we have to remember our interests come first. We cannot lose sight of what we stand to gain from this Chamber of Lords.” she looked around at all the listening faces. “We must not budge on the proportional apportionment of seats. If we win this, our lords will certainly outnumber the number of lords from the remaining three provinces. We will wield influence in the Chamber, we will have direct access to the Queen in giving her our recommendations.” 

“At this point, it is clear the northern alliance must have a proposition up their sleeve, ready to pounce onto the Queen, once the Chamber is established.” noted Lord Sander. 

“Which is why we need to be proactive,” said Elayne. A pause settled over the room as the five nobles contemplated the situation. 

“Perhaps, we offer a leg of support to the North.” posited Elayne. The others looked at her with curiosity. “The North continuously pesters the Crown for more assistance to the Wall. We could speak to Lord Stark, assure him that our bloc would work together to send an aid package to bolster the Wall’s defenses.” explained Elayne, “And only if he joins our side, and supports proportional seating.” 

“It’s a risky move,” said Lord Jason Lannister, “if we promise support for the Wall, we’re giving away a bargain that we may come to need down the line.” 

“The North is a powerful force,” Jacinta jumped in, “if they defect, surely the Iron Islands and Riverlands would tear at each other’s throats. They are long standing enemies historically.” 

“Are we confident that aid to the Wall would guarantee the North’s support?” asked Lady Jeyne. She was not too convinced that offering more men and swords to the Night’s Watch would do the trick.  

“We can’t be completely certain,” Elayne admitted, a hint of irritation in her voice. “But we have to make an attempt. We could potentially offer something else if they refuse the Wall.” Lord Sander shifted in his seat, contemplating the situation. 

“Perhaps we should consider offering them something they cannot refuse. The North is known for honoring their word. If we make it clear that our loyalty to their cause is dependent on them supporting us, they might have no choice but to comply.” 

Lady Jacinta took a sip of her tea and looked at the faces around her, 

“We are playing with fire, I think.” 

Rhaenys

The Iron Throne Room

As the two leaders of the different factions arrived in the throne room, Rhaenys observed them from her seat atop the Iron Throne. She noted their expressions, trying to gauge the mood they were in. The four Kingsguard knights standing before the throne’s dais stood tall, and one of them banged a tall spear on the floor. The iron rang loudly, gaining everyone’s attention and their silence. Everyone turned their attention to Rhaenys, awaiting her words. 

Standing on the left side of the court are nobles from the Reach, Westerlands, and the Vale. Led by Lady Elayne Tyrell and her allies; Lady Jacinta of Ashford, Lady Jeyne of the Eyrie, Lord Sander of Gulltown, and Lord Jason of Lannisport. Along with them are the lesser lords of those provinces. 

On the opposite side of the court are nobles of the northern alliance; from the North, the Riverlands, and the Iron Islands. They are led by Lord Forrest Frey, a representative appointed by Lord Oscar Tully. Of the North is Lord Cregan Stark, yet again, having traveled all the way from Winterfell to assist in the formation of the new government. Representing the Iron Islands was the scruff-bearded Lord Quenton Greyjoy. They are surrounded by their loyal vassals and supporters. Many of them eyed the nobles on the other side of court, eyeing the southerners with a mixture of suspicion and aloofness. 

As Princess Rhaenys begins to address the court, Elayne takes a moment to glance at Cregan Stark across the throne room. Sensing her look, Cregan understands her silent signal and nods imperceptibly. The two leaders of their respective Houses soon exit discreetly, moving into the quiet side hallway, away from the hustle of the throne room. 

The dimly lit hall echoed faintly with the sound of Lord Forrest Frey’s speech from the throne room. Elayne and Cregan, now standing alone, engaged in polite conversation before moving onto the main topic at hand. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Elayne began, her voice leading with a hint of caution, “you must know why I asked you here.” Cregan nodded,

“Aye, the Chamber.” he responded. Cregan was almost half Elayne’s age, yet her beauty and youthful appearance seemed otherwise. 

“The Houses can’t be evenly divided forever,” continued Elayne, “and the Freys and Greyjoys can’t be trusted.” 

“I am well aware,” Cregan replied softly, his voice low and grumbling, “The Freys and Greyjoys… they’re unpredictable. Which can be… dangerous. But I fear my House and the North will be overshadowed by your more populous provinces of the South.” 

“There is no reason we would exclude or step on the North,” said Elayne shaking her head, “lest I remind you that it is the Greyjoys that have a history of stepping on men: pillaging and raiding both the North and Riverlands for centuries. I have a proposition.”  

“I’m listening.” said Cregan. 

“If the North supports us, we’ll draft an aid package for the Wall to send to the Queen for approval. We’ll even refurbish Castle Black, send more men, too.” proposed Elayne, her eyes wide with impatience for Cregan’s response. Cregan’s interest was certainly piqued. More men were always needed at the Wall, and Cregan knew it. 

Elayne silently extends her hand. Cregan grabs her hand and firmly shakes it. 

“Aye.” said Cregan, “The North will vote for proportional seating, supporting you, and we expect assistance to the Wall as the Chamber’s first order of business.” Elayne’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. 

As Rhaenys prepared to call Elayne forward, she noticed Cregan stepping into the middle of the throne room. The room grew quieter as all eyes turned to the young Lord of Winterfell, and Rhaenys raised a brow. 

“Lord Cregan?” she acknowledged him. Cregan bowed his head, 

“Princess, I would like to address the court.” 

“You may,” allowed Rhaenys.

“House Stark will back the proposal of proportional seating in the Chamber of Lords, we wish to end this debate and vote.” as Cregan’s words echoed through the throne room, everyone in the room fell silent. The Freys and Greyjoys were visibly stunned, their faces dropping in shock. Rhaenys was stunned as well, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention. She leaned forward, 

“May all of the Great Houses step forward.” Rhaenys watched as all the leaders of the Great Houses stepped forward, each one standing by Cregan’s side in a line that faced her. Standing before her were Lord Forrest Frey, Lord Quenton Greyjoy, Lord Cregan Stark, Lady Elayne Tyrell, Lady Jeyne Arryn, and Lord Jason Lannister. The silence in the room was deafening, the tension in the room thick. Rhaenys studied their faces. 

“Upon the request of Lord Stark,” she began, “we will conduct a vote on Article Two of the Royal Charter, Section One: Seat Apportionment of the Chamber of Lords.” Grand Maester Orwyle stood off to the side of the dais, seated at a small desk, ready to record the vote on a long parchment paper. 

“Raise your hand if you vote for equal representation among the provinces.” said Rhaenys firmly. Lord Forrest Frey and Lord Quenton Greyjoy were the only two to raise their hands, 

“Aye,” they both said in unison. 

“Raise your hand if you vote for proportional representation among the provinces,” said Rhaenys. Elayne and Jeyne were the first to raise their hands, then Jason Lannister, and then lastly Cregan Stark. 

“Aye,” the four men and women said. Rhaenys smiled with satisfaction, 

“It is settled then, the Chamber of Lords shall consist of proportional representation.” the left side of the throne room, filled with Lords of the Vale, Reach, and Westerlands all erupted into applause. Elayne applauded slowly, watching Forrest Frey retreat to his side of the throne room, his expression sullen. The others around him also looked defeated, their hopes dashed by Cregan’s unexpected decision. 

Jacaerys

Dragonstone

Prince Jacaerys’ eyes immediately fixated on Aemond as he entered the blacksmith’s hall. He watched as the silver haired prince focused intently on crafting a sword with the blacksmith, the steady rhythm of metal clanging filling the air. As Jace walked slowly through the hall, the sounds of knights around him faded into the background. The men were too focused on shining their armor and sharpening their swords. 

Jacaerys watched from a distance, his gaze fixated on Aemond. He studied Aemond’s handsome profile, how the sunlight glinted off his silver-gold hair. The blacksmith praised Aemond’s work, a small smile tugged at Jace’s lips. 

Aemond’s face lit up as he caught sight of Jace in the corner of his eye. He quickly rushed over, his stride full of determination, walking past the other knights. As he reached Jace, he held up the sword proudly, with a smirk on his lips,

“Look at this,” his pride was evident in his voice, “what do you think?” 

“It’s remarkable.” noted Jace. The weapon was a masterpiece, crafted with great care and attention to detail. The blade was forged of Valyrian steel, its gleaming surface so fine that it seemed to dance in the light. The hilt was carved from dragon bone and iron, with carvings of two dragons wrapped around one another. The weapon was one of beauty and lethality.

“I haven’t decided on a name for it yet. Any suggestions?” asked Aemond, his eyes gazing up to Jace’s face. Jacaerys studied the sword, his fingertips lightly touching the ice-cold blade. The blade was black as night, and Jacaerys thought of a name.

“Nightshadow.” he said, his eyes looking up to meet Aemond’s. Aemond’s smile widened at the suggestion, he liked it, it had a ring to it. 

“Nightshadow…” he tested the words on his lips, “Yes, perfect.” Aemond then handed the sword to Jace. He offered it to Jace, “It’s for you,” his voice was full of affection, “I made it for you. 

“It will be our new family heirloom, one to pass onto our son and heir one day.” continued Aemond. His words brought a mix of emotions swelling with tension in Jace’s chest. He was touched by the gesture, the thought of the sword being their family heirloom. But the mention of a son and heir filled him with yearning and sadness. After all, Jacaerys could not create life within him, he could not carry Aemond’s son and birth him. The son would either be a biological offspring of just one of them, or one they adopt. 

Jacaerys looked up as he took the sword from Aemond’s hands, his gaze filled with a blend of love and longing. It was a bittersweet moment, as he longed to fulfill that wish, but knew the reality of their situation. 

“It’s… beautiful… thank you.” said Jacaerys. Aemond then showed a rare sign of affection, taking one of Jace’s hands and pressing a tender kiss to it. Jace was caught off guard. Despite their secluded location within the confines of Dragonstone, they were still surrounded by men most of the time. Jace glanced around quickly, his cheeks flushing at the unexpected display, but found himself smiling nonetheless. 

A few of the surrounding knights noticed the small display of affection between Aemond and Jace. Some glanced over, curious, but simply carried on their work, seemingly unfazed. It seemed that their discreet affections had not drawn any unwanted attention or reaction from the men around them. 

...

Jacaerys walked next to Aemond, a pensive expression on his face. He was deep in thought, his mind filled with a myriad of thoughts. They made their way through the castle halls, heading to the dining hall for dinner. The sound of their footsteps echoed around them. As they walked, Aemond glanced over at his lover, sensing the silence between them. 

“What’s on your mind, Jace?” asked Aemond, breaking the silence but his voice was gentle. Jace startled slightly, he had been lost in thought. He looked at Aemond, his love, and his expression was contemplative. He paused, trying to put his thoughts into words. 

“Your words stick with me,” Jace chuckled nervously, and stopped in the middle of the hall. Aemond stopped as well and turned to face Jace. He noticed the nervous chuckle and furrowed his brow, a hint of concern in his eye. 

“Which words?” asked Aemond, his voice carrying some worry. 

“Mentioning our son and heir,” said Jace sadly, “I can’t give you a son.” Aemond's expression softened as he heard Jace’s words. Aemond closed the distance between them, his fingers interlocking with Jace’s as he took his hands. 

“I know you can’t,” spoke Aemond quietly, “but it doesn’t make me love you any less.” Jacaerys looked up with wide, sad eyes. Aemond’s heart ached at the sight, and he squeezed Jace’s hands. 

“You’re my love,” added Aemond, “nothing will ever change that. And just because you cannot birth a son does not mean we cannot have a son… there are other ways, of course. Adoption… surrogacy…”  Jace listened intently, appreciating Aemond’s efforts to find a solution. He nodded in understanding. 

“Perhaps that is something we push further down the line to think about,” said Jace, shaking his head and taking in a deep breath. 

“That would be fine,” agreed Aemond. The silver haired prince leaned in, pressing a soft, comforting kiss to Jace’s lips. Their mouths met in a gentle embrace, the world around them fading into nothing. Aemond’s kiss was tender, filled with unspoken words of reassurance and love. 

Aemond’s touch was firm as he moved his hand to the back of Jace’s head. His grip on Jace’s curly brown hair was possessive, but not harsh. He ran his fingers through the soft strands, savoring the feel. He pulled Jace closer, their bodies pressing against one another, and the kiss deepened. Aemond’s tongue brushed against Jace’s lips, seeking entrance, a silent plea for more. 

...

The serving girls in the dining hall were in the middle of setting the table, going about their work quietly. But their peace was soon interrupted by the sudden entrance of Aemond and Jace, who were lost in their passionate embrace. Aemond immediately scowled at them, 

“Out, now.” he ordered, his tone was authoritative. The girls immediately left the room. Aemond lifted Jace with ease at his waist, settling him down on the end of the table. The sudden movement sent a shiver of anticipation down Jace’s spine. He quickly forgot about the serving girls as Aemond focused his full attention on him once again. 

Their kiss continued, hot and passionate. Aemond’s hands wandered down to Jace’s shirt, unbuttoning it and ripping it open. Jace shook the shirt off his shoulders and arms, and Aemond took off his as well. Aemond’s shirt joined Jace’s on the floor, creating an ever-increasing pile of discarded clothing. He did not hesitate, his hands roaming every inch of Jace’s exposed flesh, his mouth never straying far from his lover’s lips. 

Aemond’s hands ran down Jace’s body, feeling his hardened nipples, his thin belly, his bare, soft, thighs. He squeezed the edges of Jace’s ass cheeks. Jace ran his hands down Aemond’s chest and abs, then gripping his muscular arms as they kissed. His fingers traced the lines of Aemond’s arms, feeling the defined muscles as he held onto him. He looked up at Aemond with a mix of adoration and desire, his body yearning for more. 

Aemond reached down and began stroking Jace’s erect cock. Jace gasped with a smirk, pulling Aemond in from the back of his neck for a wet kiss. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” groaned Aemond. He thrusted his hips and his bare cock against Jace’s. Aemond’s cock pointed upward, rubbing against Jace’s and his hand. 

“Oh gods,” whispered Jace with pleasure, “fuck me on this table,” 

“Oh I will,” growled Aemond. He clenched his fingers into Jace’s ass cheeks and Jace giggled. “I will break this fucking table,” said Aemond in a raspy whisper, lathering Jace’s neck with kisses. Aemond began to suck on Jace’s neck and Jace held his head back, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the sensation. 

“W-wait, stop,” Jace whispered, and Aemond slowed his kisses. Jace slid off the table and got down on his knees in front of Aemond. Before Aemond could protest, Jace began to suck on Aemond’s cock. Aemond closed his eyes and groaned, his mouth gaping from the excruciating pleasure. 

Jace held one hand on the base of Aemond’s cock, stroking in unison with his wet sucking. Aemond looked down, meeting Jace’s eyes. Jace was turned on by Aemond’s expressive face. Aemond’s cock throbbed in Jace’s mouth, and he continued to suck hard. Aemond put his hand on Jace’s head, 

“Slow, slow,” he said with a gasp and chuckle. Jace slowed down, removing his lips from Aemond’s cock. He stroked Aemond’s cock with his wet saliva and looked up at Aemond, 

“Too good for you?” he teased. 

“Hmm,” grumbled Aemond, nodding admittedly. Aemond reached down and lifted Jace up, standing him up. He bent Jace over the table, and Jace laid down slowly on the surface of the table. He spread his legs as Aemond slid his cock up and down, between his ass cheeks. 

Aemond places his cock at Jace’s hole, and slowly pushes in. Jace gasps and clenches his teeth, he was feeling tighter than before. Aemond’s cock hurt just slightly, but as his lover pushed in deeper, he began to relax and loosen up. 

Aemond put his hands firmly on Jace’s waist, slowly thrusting in and out of him. Jace laid the side of his face on the table, moaning softly as Aemond took him from behind. Aemond looked down at Jace’s body, admiring his toned back, his firm arms, and his blushing cheeks. He couldn’t get enough of Jace’s thin waist either, holding onto it tightly, pulling him as he fucked him. 

“Oh yes, Aemond,” moaned Jace, “fuck me, harder.” Aemond nodded, but kept his pace still steady. “Harder,” demanded Jace. Aemond couldn’t resist any longer and started to pound Jace. Sweat beaded on Aemond’s forehead, loose strands of his silver hair sticking to his face and neck. 

“You like that?” panted Aemond, and Jace nodded with a whimper, “Fuck,” moaned Aemond. He felt himself coming close, it was going to be a quick one. Seeing Jace’s full body below him was making him feel the urge to burst his load immediately. 

Aemond slowed his pounding, wanting to savor their moment together. He thrusted slowly, listening to the sound of his cock going in and out of Jace’s wettened hole. Jace gasped again, opening his eyes. Aemond leaned down, arching his body fully over Jace’s back. Aemond began to kiss and lick Jace’s back. Jace felt a tingling sensation run down his spine, he was losing strength in his legs from Aemond’s thick cock going in and out of him. 

“Flip me over,” whispered Jace. Aemond gave a sucking kiss onto Jace’s cheek and then got up. He pulled out of Jace and turned him over. He lifted Jace back up onto the table, leaning him back, and spreading his legs wide open. Aemond shifted up to the edge of the table, and quickly reinserted his cock inside of Jace. 

Within a few thrusts, Jace began to moan loudly. Aemond held onto Jace’s thighs tightly, resting one leg on his shoulder. Aemond was able to look into Jace’s eye, just the way he liked it while fucking. 

Jace pulled Aemond down for another kiss, his leg bending backward as it still remained on Aemond’s approaching shoulder. Jace groaned and Aemond smirked. 

“Harder, I want it,” moaned Jace, “I’m ready,” 

“Yeah?” teased Aemond. 

“Yes, gods, yes.” Aemond stood up straight, continuing to thrust, moving faster and harder. Jace’s ass cheeks clapped as he was being slammed by Aemond’s body. His body burning up with his climaxing desire. 

“Cum for me,” said Aemond in a firm but tender voice, his eyes fixed on Jace’s. Jace threw his head back, gasping loudly. Jace’s cock then shot out a load onto his own chest, without even being stroked. Aemond smirked with pride, continuing to fuck hard. “That’s it,” 

“Yes Aemond,” cried out Jace, his breath slowing. Aemond kept going, he was close. He clenched his own ass cheeks and he humped hard. 

“I want to see you cum,” panted Jace tiredly. Within seconds, Aemond groaned loudly. He quickly pulled out his cock, stroking it right over Jace’s softened cock and balls. Aemond let out a guttural groan as he ejaculated, shooting ropes of cum onto Jace’s body. Jace laid his head back and smiled with content and satisfaction. Aemond planted his hands beside Jace’s body, leaning forward, catching his breath. 

Jace sat up, pecking a kiss on Aemond’s lips quickly. Aemond smirked tiredly, leaning in for a longer kiss. 

“Do you think those serving girls stayed long enough to find out what happened here?” asked Jace quietly with a chuckle. Aemond scoffed, 

“Hm, if they were smart, then no.” Aemond stood up tall, and Jace looked at his body. Jace studied Aemond’s body, entirely enamored by his lover. He looked down from his broad chest, his sculpted abs, down to his flaccid cock that hung low and thick. 

“What?” asked Aemond curiously, noticing Jace’s stares. 

“Just… taking you all in.” he noted satisfyingly. 

...

After their impassioned sexual encounter in the dining room, Aemond and Jace shared a quiet, relaxed, dinner. The atmosphere between them remained electric and content. Once their meal was over, they retired to their bedroom. 

Jace and Aemond undressed once again, laying underneath a warm fur blanket in bed. Jace rested his head on Aemond’s bare chest, the two were caressing one another slowly and tenderly. Jace loved the feeling of Aemond’s steady rise and fall of his breathing. His fingers traced idle patterns on Aemond’s skin, and a small smile swept over Aemond’s face. 

Their peace and quiet, however, was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. “Prince Jacaerys, I bring news,” they both recognized it to be the Maester of Dragonstone, Maester Gerardys. Jace sat up quickly, ready to cover himself and get out of bed to change into clothes. But Aemond’s hand on his arm stilled him, 

“Stay put, it’s fine.” said Aemond in a tender voice, “Enter.” Aemond called out. Jace’s eyes widened as Aemond made it clear he did not care about their state of undress, or their state of lying in bed together, in front of others. Jace pulled the fur blanket higher up to his chest. Maester Gerardys entered the room. 

The sixty-five year old Maester was startled to see the two princes in bed together, their naked bodies only concealed by the fur blanket. Gerardys stammered and looked away awkwardly,

“Forgive me, my princes,” Gerardys stood with his hands clasped at his front of his loose gray robes. The old man’s face betrayed his surprise and discomfort, and he quickly turned his gaze away. 

“No need to apologize,” said Aemond, his voice calm and unashamed, as if it were the most common thing in the world to be caught in such a state.

“What is it, Maester?” asked Jacaerys. 

“It is Prince Lucerys, he has arrived with his dragon and wishes to see you.” said Gerardys. Jace was taken aback, he hadn’t seen his brother Luke in months since he was sent off to live on Driftmark with Lord Corlys. Even Aemond was surprised. What could Luke be doing here? Could it be possible that their mother sent him to speak to Jace? 

“Thank you, Maester,” said Aemond, “please tell him that we will see him soon.” Gerardys bowed his head and quickly left the room. Jace and Aemond looked at one another. Jace got out of bed, crawling over Aemond to find pants and a shirt. 

“What could he be doing here?” asked Aemond, as Jace looked for his clothes. His voice had a level of concern with curiosity. 

“It must be my mother’s doing,” said Jace with annoyance, pulling on his shirt. Aemond sat up and the blanket pooled at his waist. He got out of bed and looked for his own clothes, he did not want Jace to go down there alone. Jace noticed Aemond getting dressed and looked at him, “Let me speak to him alone, first. I do not know if he knows about our relationship yet.”

Aemond considered this for a moment, his expression guarded but not without understanding. He saw the wisdom in letting Jace handle the first encounter with his fourteen year old brother. After all, it was unclear if Luke was aware of their relationship. 

“Very well,” said Aemond. Aemond watched Jace leave, but he quickly scrambled to put on his clothes. While he respected Jace’s request to let him speak to Luke alone, he was not willing to let go of the situation entirely. After all, there was a part of him that worried about sending his lover off to deal with Luke without backup. Aemond knew very well how feisty and combative Luke had always been to him over the years. Once dressed, Aemond quietly left the room and headed towards the receiving room, staying just out of sight of Jace. 

...

Jacaerys was led to the Dragonstone throne room, where his brother waited patiently. The moonlight spilled into the grand hall, illuminating his younger brother’s face. Seeing Luke brought a smile to Jace’s face that he couldn’t hold back. Luke rushed over to his older brother, 

“Brother!” he called out excitedly. The two hugged one another, it had been a significant amount of time since they last saw each other, perhaps six months or more. They missed one another greatly, and their reunion was filled with a deep sense of familial love. 

“What are you doing here?” asked Jacaerys with an outburst of curiosity. 

“Mother told me in a letter that you fled to Dragonstone,” answered Luke, his demeanor beginning to calm. He already knew there was tension between Jace and their mother. 

“Did she tell you why?” asked Jace cautiously. Luke nodded silently. Jace lowered his head and eyes, almost as if he were ashamed. He braced for the impending conversation that would delve into the turbulent history of the relationship with their mother in recent months. 

“You’re still my brother, and I love you.” said Luke warmly, “I understand why you felt the need to flee King’s Landing.” Jace gave a small smile at his younger brother, grateful for his words. 

“Thank you,” he said in a soft voice, “it all happened so fast… but I had to get away.” 

“I don’t think you’ll be able to hide forever, though.” said Luke with some concern, “You’ll be King one day… you have to be in King’s Landing.” Jace let out a sigh at Luke’s words. He knew his brother spoke the truth, but the reality of his future role as king weighed heavily on him. The thought of returning to King’s Landing gave him anxiety, filling him with dread. 

“I needed a break,” Jace’s voice cracked, “here… I have a chance at regaining some semblance of peace.” 

“I know you face an impossible choice,” Luke reached for his brother’s arm to comfort him, “And I’m sure you have pleaded with mother time and time again… to no avail.” 

“You’re right,” nodded Jace, “I’ve tried to speak plainly with her… and I think she accepts the fact that Aemond and I love each other. But, she has become entrenched in politics, fearful of the Realm. Her own subjects.” 

Aemond had followed Jace to the throne room and listened from afar, standing behind the doorway to the throne room. He could hear Jace’s pain in his voice. The desire to see his mother once again, but knowing that she would not fully accept him and Aemond being together. He understood that pain very well. The pain of wanting a mother’s unconditional love and support, while knowing the same mother was unable to come to terms with their relationship. He felt the need to act. To do something. He had to do something. Aemond swiftly left the hall. 

Chapter Text

Jacaerys & Aemond

Dragonstone

Jacaerys woke up early that morning, his bleary eyes slowly took in the sight before him, his sleep-addled mind still trying to catch up to the world around him. The first thing he noticed was the empty space beside him in bed, where Aemond should have been. His hand reached out to feel the cold sheets. He then shifted his gaze to the figure entering the room, Jace’s eyes growing wider as he realized it was Aemond. The silver haired prince was completely nude, shuffling around his wardrobe for his next outfit. 

“Why are you up so early? Where are you off to?” asked Jace tiredly, yawning. Aemond looked over his shoulder at Jace, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He pulled out a fitted dark green shirt and black pants, taking them out to set them down on the small dining table. “Come back to bed,” insisted Jace in a low voice. 

“I have something to take care of, you should go back to sleep.” said Aemond, nonchalantly. Jace sat up in bed, the fur blanket resting over his bare thighs and legs. “I will be gone for a few hours with Vhagar. And I’ll explain when I get back.” added Aemond. Aemond walked over to Jace at the bed, standing at the bedside. Aemond looked at Jace’s dark curly hair, tussled from his sleep. The silver haired prince leaned down, planting a long and gentle kiss on Jace’s lips. 

Jacaerys closed his eyes, savoring the softness of Aemond’s lips. He reached up to caress Aemond’s face, but the prince stood back. 

“A few hours with Vhagar?” asked Jace, opening his eyes. Aemond nodded, heading to the door to slip on his boots. “Be careful then, please. And be back before dinner.” 

“I will be, I promise.” Aemond assured him. 

“You smell nice, by the way.” noted Jace, a smile appearing on his face. Aemond smirked, and walked back up to Jace. Aemond grazed his nose and lips up against Jace's neck, taking in a deep breath. Aemond's breath nearly shuddered, and he kissed up Jace's neck.

“So do you. And I’ll have you get a closer whiff when I get back.” he kissed Jace once more and headed out of the bedroom. Jacaerys fell onto his back on the bed, with a huff, and stared at the ceiling. His mind was now fully awake and aware of Aemond’s absence, and he did not like it. However, he trusted his lover. He wished Aemond would just come back to bed and give him attention, give him more tender kisses and touches. He was craving it, and craving Aemond to be inside of him. 

…

Aemond paused momentarily as he walked past the dining hall and saw Luke sitting at the table, already up and about. He backtracked to enter the hall, standing at the opposite end of the table of where Luke sat. 

“You’re up early,” remarked Aemond. Luke had a large plate of food in front of him, and the young teen was making his way through it. Aemond could sense the awkward tension with Luke, reminiscing of their tumultuous past. One of teasing and bullying that went both ways. “I heard what you said to Jacaerys last night… and I just wanted to thank you… for supporting us.” said Aemond. 

Luke was somewhat surprised by Aemond’s words, his expression softening slightly from the unexpected gratitude. It was unusual for them to have a civil conversation, let alone express thanks to one another. 

“I… you’re welcome,” stammered Luke. “He’s my big brother. He always protects me… and I must do the same for him.” Aemond’s stoic facade softened at Luke’s words. He could sense the genuine love that the fourteen year old had for his older brother, and it tugged at something deep within him… memories of his own conflicted feelings for his own siblings. 

“You’re loyal to him,” Aemond said with a gentle voice, “you’re a good brother. A good prince.” Luke nods in thanks and soon Aemond is off, leaving the dining room to continue his quest. 

Aemond walked across the large stone platform-dock within the Dragonmont, approaching the snorting and grumbling Vhagar that waited for her rider. She held her shoulder right up against the stone dock, and looked at Aemond as he approached. The air around her was filled with unease, it seemed she was already picking up on Aemond’s internal turmoil, sensing the intensity of his emotions. Her agitation was evident as she moved restlessly, occasionally letting out a low rumble. 

Aemond tried soothing the dragon in High Valyrian, offering her reassurances to calm her and ease her. He made his way up the rope ladder and settled into the saddle, his eyes fixed on the massive creature before him. He stroked her shoulder blade, 

“Soves, Vhagar… let’s go.” Vhagar obeyed, her enormous and slow footsteps echoed loudly in the cavern. They made their way towards the exit of the cave, the stone beneath them shaking with each colossal step. 

As they emerged from the cave, the powerful sea breeze whipped through his hair and face, its salty scent filling his nostrils. Aemond gripped the reins tightly as Vhagar moved to the edge of the sharp cliff, taking a moment to ready herself for flight. With a sudden and graceful leap, Vhagar surged forward. Her massive wings unfurled and caught the air as they began to soar, her feet skimming across the rough waters. The ascent was sudden and forceful, jerking Aemond around as she climbed up to the clouds. 

Alicent

The Red Keep

Dowager Queen Alicent walked briskly through the halls of the Red Keep, a determined expression on her face. It had been a few days since she had last seen Rhaenyra, and she did not like seeing her in such a depressive state. Concerned with determination, Alicent made her way to Rhaenyra’s apartments, intent on checking on her and offering whatever support she could. 

Alicent’s steps came to a halt as she noticed Aegon exiting Rhaenyra’s apartments. The two exchanged a chilly greeting, the tension between them palpable ever since Alicent’s critical comments about their impending child. Alicent’s gaze locked onto Aegon, her voice a bit saddened and strained, 

“How is she?” asked Alicent. 

“You’re here to see her, aren’t you? I’ve got Small Council to get to.” questioned Aegon with irritation. Alicent sighed at her son’s tone. She ignored him and walked past him, knocking on the door. Aegon continued down the hall, leaving his mother. 

Alicent sat across from Rhaenyra on the couches, a mix of concern and worry written on her face. She fidgeted with the fabric of her deep blue dress, her thoughts swirling with worry about Aemond and Jace’s situation. The scrutiny around Jace and Helaena’s broken betrothal only continued to grow from whispers to fervent conversation topics throughout court and the Red Keep. 

“There have been whispers…” Alicent spoke carefully, “about our sons. People are talking, questioning the betrothal, there’s doubt and suspicion and-”

“Alicent, take a breath.” she noticed the Dowager Queen’s visibly rising anxiety, “Just breathe.” Rhaenyra’s voice was soothing, it was some kind of attempt to alleviate Alicent’s anxiety. Alicent did as she was told, and took in a deep breath… and then exhaled. 

“What are we going to do?” asked Alicent, in a far calmer voice. 

“I… I am not entirely sure,” admitted Rhaenyra, “Aemond made demands on the night he fled with Jace.” 

“What demands?” asked Alicent. Rhaenyra was a bit surprised that Alicent did not know about this. But after all, Rhaenyra kept to herself for the last two months. 

“He wanted Jace’s hand in marriage, with Helaena. Saying Jace could take two spouses and be like the Conqueror.” explained Rhaenyra. 

“T-two?” stammered Alicent. She was baffled, and did not know what else to say. Rhaenyra sighed heavily as she confessed her thoughts, her voice laced with reluctance and concern.

“The longer this situation drags on,” spoke the Queen, “the more I find myself considering Aemond’s demands.” Alicent looked at her with curled eyebrows of worry. “Granting Jace permission to marry both Aemond and Helaena… it is a difficult decision but if it means Jace returns to King’s Landing…” 

“I want Aemond home just as much as you want Jace home, but we have to consider the consequences, Rhaenyra. The Faith would not stand idly by and accept such an arrangement. Nor would I expect much of the Realm to accept it.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Rhaenyra said bluntly, standing up swiftly. She walked briskly to her bedroom, disappearing into the tall wardrobe. Alicent stood up and followed Rhaenyra, pausing at the opened bedroom doorway. She observed Rhaenyra as she dug through her dresses, puzzled. 

“What are you doing?” asked Alicent softly. 

Rhaenyra found the dress she was looking for, caressing its fabric, a mixture of nostalgia and determination in her eyes. The black gown with red and gold linings held a special significance to her, as it was the dress she had worn when she first sat on the Iron Throne. She spoke firmly as she met Alicent’s gaze, 

“I must get my son back home, he is more important to me than tradition.” 

…

The heavy doors of the Small Council groaned opened and Rhaenyra stepped into the room, Alicent following close behind. The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately as the Small Council members registered her presence. Those seated at the table stood up swiftly, a mixture of shock and surprise evident on their faces. 

Rhaenys was among the first to react, as she was sitting in what was the Queen’s seat at the head of the table. The Hand of the Queen stood up first, soon followed by Prince Aegon. Orwyle, Wylde, Lannister, and Beesbury bowed their heads as the Queen walked around the table. 

Rhaenys stood aside from the head of the table, moving to the Hand’s seat to the left. The two women exchanged a small grateful smile and nod. At the right of the head of the table stood Aegon, and the Prince kissed his wife on her cheek as she moved her seat. Rhaenyra stood in front of her seat, looking at the four other men, 

“My lords, it is good to be back.” Rhaenyra took her seat at the head of the table, “I have much to discuss with you all.” Alicent Hightower then sat beside Princess Rhaenys. The Small Council members then followed suit and took their seats. 

“I apologize for my absence,” continued the Queen, “it has been hard… as of late. It is about Prince Jacaerys. I know you all have heard what happened, and have been hearing rumors of his relations with Prince Aemond…” the mention of the two princes seemed to intensify the tension in the room. “Aemond has demanded my son’s hand in marriage, along with Princess Helaena’s. My son and Prince Aemond are in love, I cannot deny it, and I cannot deny them their happiness. I will accept his terms, on one condition - that Jacaerys must produce heirs with Helaena.” 

The room was filled with a murmur of disbelief, mainly from the four lords at the end of the table. They exchanged glances, their eyes darting from Rhaenyra to Rhaenys to Aegon and back to themselves. They were all taken aback by the turn of events. 

“So… Prince Jacaerys,” spoke Lord Wylde, “will marry Helaena and she will be Queen?” 

“Yes, if he accepts.” answered Rhaenyra. 

“A man marrying a man?” scoffed Lord Beesbury in total shock. Lord Beesbury’s incredulous question hung in the air, only adding fuel to the already crackling tension. The room fell silent as Rhaenyra’s glare fixated upon Lord Beesbury, her frustration momentarily boiling over. But before the atmosphere could escalate further, Rhaenys interjects with her cool, measured voice, 

“Let’s not act as if this is an anomaly, Lord Beesbury,” she says, her eyes looking at the disgruntled Beesbury, “History is full of men who have preferred the companionship of other men, as much as the company of women.” 

“Not a King!” scolded Beesbury angrily, with a pang of fear in his voice. 

“Well, he is our next King.” said Aegon strictly. 

“I do not think the Realm will be able to…” Lord Tyland Lannister spoke gently, “accept this.” 

“I do not care.” scoffed Rhaenyra, her shoulders tense, her hands out on the table. 

“Might I suggest that the Iron Throne pass onto Prince Lucerys,” suggested Beesbury, nearly stuttering over his words, “So Prince Jacaerys can do whatever he pleases…” 

“I will not disinherit and disown my own son! My firstborn!” snapped Rhaenyra, slamming her hand on the table. 

“Well,” Lord Wylde interjected with a calm voice, “the Realm took time to accept the Targaryen custom of interfamilial marriage… this is just an extension of that.” 

Lord Beesbury, unable to contain himself, allows a scoff to escape from his lips, his disapproval evident. Aegon, sensing the mounting tension in the room, addresses him,

“Speak your mind then.” he glared at the old man at the other end of the table. 

“I cannot stand idly by and allow this to happen. To allow for the sullying of the Crown, the destruction of our norms, all thanks to House Targaryen!” exclaimed Beesbury. As the old Lord yelled, Ser Harrold Westerling approached the table and drew his sword, ready to escort him out. The other council members watch with a mix of shock and concern as the situation rapidly escalates. 

“Speak harshly of my House once more and you’ll awaken in the night to the roof of your keep crashing down upon you! You are dismissed from the Small Council, Lord Beesbury.” scowled Rhaenyra with disgust, “Ser Harrold, show Lord Beesbury his way out of the Red Keep and ensure he is out of the city.” Beesbury stands up as he is pulled along harshly by Ser Harrold, and another knight joins him. 

The eyes of the council members follow Lord Beesbury as he is escorted out of the room, their silence hanging heavily in the air. When the door closes behind them, the council members’ attention slowly shifts back to Rhaenyra. The air is thick with lingering tension from the recent outburst. Rhaenyra takes a moment to compose herself, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. 

“My son,” her voice quivered slightly, “Prince Jacaerys, is the heir to the Iron Throne.” The strength in her voice is tinged with a hint of emotion, her eyes become watery. Though she tries to maintain her composure, the depth of her conviction and love she has for her son cannot be entirely concealed. 

“We will send a raven to Dragonstone,” Prince Aegon reached his hand to Rhaenyra’s, touching her softly to soothe her, “inform them of our terms… and what we’re willing to accept.”

“We will bring an end to this turmoil,” said Princess Rhaenys with a reassuring smile to the Queen. 

Jacaerys

Dragonstone

Alone in his private bath, Prince Jacaerys takes a moment to immerse himself in the soothing warmth of the water. As he finishes washing up, his minds drifts to thoughts of Aemond, the man he longs to see. He can’t help but think about later tonight, when Aemond said he would return. 

Unbeknownst to Jace, subtle changes are starting to take place in his body, hinting at a secret aspect of his identity. He begins to feel some strange signs and symptoms which he does not yet understand. As he lays in the hot water, he notices a cramping feeling in his abdomen. He thought that it was possible he was hungry, and was spending too much time in the hot water. As Jace runs his hand gently over his abdomen, he finds the region feeling tight and a little tender, his touch sending faint waves through the warm water. He frowns, not understanding why his body is suddenly uncomfortably sensitive. Perhaps he had eaten something amiss.  

The cramping in his abdomen soon subsides, but a different sensation takes place. His heart rate seems to increase slightly, his skin feels warmer than the water, and there is a vague feeling of restlessness in him. He assumes he needs to get out of the water and he stands up. 

Jace looks down, seeing his cock fully erect, throbbing hard. He didn’t even realize it beforehand. He reaches down to the base of his cock, feeling it. It is extremely tender and tight, hard like an iron baton. He reached under to caress his balls, they were feeling swollen and tender as well. He felt his hole throbbing, and he paused his hands’ movements. 

Jace shook his head and got out of the bath, reaching for the nearby towel, and began drying his hair and body, trying to shake off the thoughts. He considered jerking off to get rid of the erection, but he wanted to save his load for Aemond. 

Jace dried his legs and then his groin. He ran the towel back and forth underneath his balls, and then up his ass. The friction against his hole is rigid and causes his cock to throb hard again. His hole throbbed, feeling as if it were ready to take a cock. Jace opened his eyes suddenly, realizing that Aemond was still not around to fulfill that desire. 

As the sensations continue to wash over him, Jace chalks them up to be a common aspect of reaching adulthood, an expected development in an eighteen year old man. Yet a nagging feeling of doubt and curiosity lingered in the back of his mind, he had felt urges before… but nothing of this magnitude. He looked down, his cock was dripping with precum. He felt the urge to fuck something, anything… 

Jace throws the towel onto the floor and walks over to the wide open window. The window reached from about a foot off the floor up to the ceiling. There was a narrow balcony outside, but it wasn’t meant for lounging. 

Jace stood out on the wide window sill, grasping his cock and beginning to stroke fervently. He held his hand over his lower abs, the cramping was now subsiding further as he milked his cock. He kept his legs spread, his feet planted far apart. The air was chilly as it whisked around his naked body, tugging at his curly brown hair, and sweeping under his balls. 

He closed his eyes, feeling the rising burning pleasure, the desire for more, the desire to explode. He grunted, stroking his cock harder. The brown haired prince imagined Aemond right on top of him, lowering his toned body onto his own, his silver-gold hair spilling onto his face. He pictured Aemond spreading apart his legs, inserting his long cock into his hole. 

Jace groaned as he felt his hole throb incredibly strong, and he opened his eyes. With his free hand he reached underneath his balls, rubbing his taint. It was tender. He decided to put one leg up on the side of the window sill, exposing his hole to the air. He groaned softly as he thrusted his finger in and out of his hole. It was feeling slightly wet and he stopped, taking out his fingers. His fingers were wet indeed, but with some kind of clear, natural lubrication, as if Aemond had spit on him.

He slid two fingers back inside his hole as he continued to stroke his cock with his other hand. The penetration was just what he needed, and his cock throbbed hard, continuing to leak with precum. Jace’s body twinged as he felt himself coming close, 

“Fuck…” he murmured in a huff, “Fuck me, Aemond…” he closed his eyes, imagining Aemond giving him the orgasmic pounding he so desperately desired. Jace stopped stroking his cock, focusing entirely on fingering himself. He inserted a third finger, thrusting quickly in and out of his wet hole. “Yes,” he groaned, “Yes,” his abs clenched as he ejaculated, his cum shooting out of the window, out into the air, falling far below to the rocky cliffs. Jace let out a loud exhale, smiling with satisfaction. He opened his eyes and lowered his legs. He looked down, the clear liquid had dripped down his entire leg… realizing he should probably jump into the bath once more.  

…

Jacaerys grins sheepishly as he approaches Luke in a small reading room outside the Dragonmont cave. He still felt the lingering effects of strange sensations in his body from the bath earlier. He apologizes to Luke for his lateness, and his younger brother rolls his eyes lightheartedly. 

“I suppose you need a bit of extra time to look presentable,” said Luke sarcastically, walking alongside his older brother towards the entrance to the Dragonmont cave. Jace playfully punches Luke in his arm, exchanging a laugh and teasing remarks as they approach the cave entrance. 

“So, you ready to meet Vermithor?” Jace’s eyes widened with excitement. Luke nodded, 

“Absolutely.” he said. As they stepped out onto the cave dock, the sight of Arrax sleeping peacefully greeted them. The young gray dragon stirs, lifting its head and opening its eyes as it senses the brothers’ approach. The small dragon let out a soft, contented chirp, recognizing Luke and Jace. He extended his slender neck as they drew near. 

“He’s gotten so big…” noted Jace. Luke stepped closer to his dragon, opening his arms so the dragon could rest his head in the crook of his elbow. Jace walked over, beginning to pet the dragon’s scaly and wide snout. Both brothers pause in their conversation as a deep echoing grumble and huffs rumble through the pitch blackness of deeper in the cave. The unmistakable sounds of Vermithor, reach their ears from the darkness. 

A slight shiver of anticipation and excitement passes over Luke, and Jace walks to the edge of the stone platform. Their eyes adjusting to the barely lit cave, straining to see the shape of Vermithor in the shadows. 

The thudding footsteps of Vermithor echoed through the cave, growing louder with each measured stride. As the elder dragon slowly emerged into the light, its massive bronze form loomed large before the brothers. Vermithor lowered his head, his approach focused slowly on Jace, recognizing his rider instantly. 

Vermithor exhaled forcefully through his nostrils, the hot air rushing out with such strength that it made Jace’s long hair flutter around him. Undeterred by the display of power, Jace smiled and held out a hand, gently touching the jagged chin of the Bronze Fury. He looked over at Luke who was watching in awe, never having seen Vermithor before. Jace gestured for his brother to come forward. 

Luke cautiously stepped forward, keeping his movements slow and steady. Vermithor let out a low growl, ending in a series of guttural grunts, as Luke approached. Vermithor turned his head slightly to get a better look at the younger prince, glaring at Luke. Luke stood still, froze, fearing Vermithor did not want him any closer. 

“It’s alright,” chuckled Jace, “he just wants a better look at you.” Luke’s body was filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity, seizing him entirely. Vermithor exhaled and blinked slowly at Luke. Luke then stepped forward, standing beside his brother, and reached out to slowly pet the old dragon. Vermithor let out a curious grumble and closed his eyes. 

The brothers soon took to the skies, the exhilarating feel of dragon-riding coursing through their veins. Arrax and Luke were out in front, far up ahead of Jace and Vermithor. Luke clung onto Arrax tightly, darting swiftly through the fluffy white clouds. Meanwhile, Vermithor tried to keep up, his wings beating slowly but powerfully, maintaining a steadier pace. Vermithor let out a long, song-like bellow to Arrax. 

Luke looked over his shoulder, the hair tugging at his short brown hair. He laughed upon seeing Jace’s impatient face, wanting Vermithor to fly faster and catch up. Luke began to laugh and circled back towards Jace and Vermithor.  Luke skillfully weaved through the air, his laughter filling the air. 

In a daring move, Arrax flew upside down right over Jace and Vermithor. The maneuver was executed with precision, with Arrax’s wings skimmed almost too closely above them. Jace couldn’t help but smile at Luke and Arrax’s impressive move. The sight of his younger brother so carefree in the air reminded him of their youth, the days when they’d spend hours flying around Dragonstone. Those were simpler times, before the complexities and challenges of life intervened… 

Aemond

King’s Landing

Vhagar’s powerful form glided effortlessly through the air, her massive wings batting the sky. Aemond rode atop his mount with a sense of determination. This was the first time in nearly three months he had been to King’s Landing since fleeing with Jace. But his return was not without purpose. He had come once more to see the Queen. 

Aemound dismounted from Vhagar, having landed in the crowded and tight open landing area just outside the Dragonpit. The dragon-keepers tried waving Aemond away, their cries of telling him Vhagar would take up far too much space. But Aemond did not care, he needed to get to the Red Keep as quickly as possible. Aemond ignored the dragon-keepers’ demands, and told them he’d be back soon anyway. As he turned to face Aegon’s High Hill, the Red Keep rose up before him. 

Aemond entered the Red Keep with a swift and purposeful stride, his steps echoing against the grand halls. He can feel the gazes of the nobles and servants upon him, the whispered comments and hushed murmurs of the speculation following him like a shadow. Ignoring them all and keeping his head high, he quickened his pace. His destination is clear, and he will not be delayed by the curious eyes or gossiping tongues of those around him. 

Aemond spots Ser Steffon Darklyn and Ser Criston Cole further down the hall, engaged in conversation, a flicker of recognition passes over his face. Both men are well known to him as defenders of his own mother, the Dowager Queen. He assumed they would be well informed of Rhaenyra’s whereabouts. Aemond approached them, and the two knights soon spot the middle prince. The sight of Aemond caught the two knights off guard, surprise flickered across their faces. They wouldn’t have expected to see him here. 

“Ser Steffon, Ser Criston, good to see you both,” greeted Aemond, “I must speak to the Queen, where is she?” 

“My prince,” said Ser Criston as he and Ser Steffon both bowed their heads, “The Queen is currently in her private chambers, dining with members of the royal family. Shall we alert her of your arrival?” 

“Of course,” said Aemond sternly. 

“We will lead you there without delay.” said Criston, and the three were off. 

Ser Criston knocked on Rhaenyra’s apartment doors, and then was granted permission to enter. He informed the Queen of Aemond’s arrival, and the prince soon stepped inside without haste. The suddenness and unannounced arrival of Prince Aemond caught everyone off guard. His family was gathered at a circular dining table in the center of the room, their faces turned towards him; some with looks of curiosity, some with looks of content, and some with looks of anger. Seated at the table with the Queen were Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron. 

“Aemond…” Rhaenyra’s voice was soft. 

“What are you doing here?” asked Alicent, interjecting, her voice cutting through the quiet. 

“I’ve come to discuss Jacaerys.” Aemond’s response was straightforward, and his words lingered in the air. Rhaenyra wiped her hands on her napkin cloth and took in a deep breath, her chest rising and then falling. 

“What about him?” she asked. 

“Jacaerys wants to return home… but only if he will be fully accepted. Our terms… this is the last I’ll be speaking to you about them.” he said confidently. 

“Is he here with you?” asked Rhaenyra. Aemond shook his head no,

“I came alone. Jacaerys will be my husband, and I his. We are to be wed, recognized by the Crown as an official pair.” Rhaenyra’s face remains stoic, but Aemond can see her holding back her true emotions - her sadness, her depression. 

“And Helaena? She is to be Jacaerys’s Queen. They are to have heirs together. Those were the terms you put forward.” insisted Rhaenyra. 

“Just one heir with Helaena.” answered Aemond, clasping his hands behind his back as his one eye stared pensively at the Queen. His sudden alteration of the terms caught Rhaenyra off guard, and there is a moment of pause as she processed his words. 

“That was not part of the agreement.” she said firmly. Princess Helaena felt the sudden shift of her family members’ eyes onto her, and her own eyes darted back and forth between Rhaenyra and Aemond. 

“You’re lucky I’m letting you get one heir out of Jace.” said Aemond. Helaena shifts uncomfortably in her chair. 

“Lucky? Do not toy around with my son’s future.” said Rhaenyra in a snapping tone, a flare of sadness. 

“Aemond,” sighed Aegon, “we need a strong line of succession, you know that.” Aemond’s cold gaze shifted to Aegon, his expression unchanged. 

“Fine!” cried out Rhaenyra, “Fine… enough of this. I want… I want my son back home.” tears swelled in her eyes. Her voice was filled with a mix of anger and tears, shattering the tension-filled air. The desperate plea to have her son return home, silenced everyone in the room. Aemond’s face was still stern, but he was even surprised by Rhaenyra’s outburst. He did not believe that he just won so easily…

“You will wed Jacaerys,” continued Rhaenyra, sitting back in her seat, “you will be his husband, his consort.” she sat back, reveling in the decision she just cast. There was a sense of finality in Rhaenyra’s words. The enormity of what she just agreed to sinks in, the realization that she just legalized a marriage between two men, her son one of them, for the first time in the Realm’s history. She gazes into the faces of her family around the table. Aemond, his face a mixture of surprise and acceptance, responds with a single nod. There is a relief that washes over him. 

“Congratulations brother,” said Aegon, breaking the silence, raising his glass, “a toast.” Aemond could not tell if his older brother had some sarcasm in his voice. “To the new consort of Prince Jacaerys.” Aemond notices Helaena staring at him, her eyes reflecting total uncertainty. He can sense her unease. 

“Aemond,” said Rhaenyra, “please bring back my son.” Aemond nodded at her request, 

“As you command, your grace.” he bowed respectfully and turned for the door. 

As Aemond stepped out of the room and Rhaenyra’s apartment, the door closed behind him with a soft click. The weight of the moment hits him like a wave. He leans against the wall with his hand, his head lowered. Tears welled up in his eye, and he pressed his hand to his mouth to muffle any sound. He never would have imagined he would succeed, he never would have imagined that he’d experience such an overwhelming burst of feelings. He found himself struggling to contain them. 

...

In Rhaenyra’s room, at the dining table, there was an eerie silence. The family members were finishing their meals, most of them already done. Daeron and Helaena were the last two eating. Alicent held her hands at her forehead, her elbows resting on the tables, thinking about what just happened. Aegon stared at his mother. Rhaenyra noticed her mood as well. 

“War will break out,” said Alicent with a sniffle. Her words cut through the silence. 

“It does not have to come to that, Alicent.” said Rhaenyra in a measured yet firm voice, “We can prevent it.” Rhaenyra focused on finishing the food in front of her. Her words, meant to reassure the Dowager Queen, seemed to bounce off without having the intended effect. Alicent sits straight and looks across the table at her eldest son, Aegon. Her eyes were filled with tears and a spark of panic began to set in. 

“Mother,” Aegon said softly, “calm down.” 

“There’s no need to panic, mum.” interjected Daeron. Rhaenyra reached to take Alicent’s hand and leaned towards her, looking into her large brown eyes, 

“Do you love Aemond?” she asked. Alicent looks into Rhaenyra’s eyes, and nods subtly, 

“Yes, I love my son.” Rhaenyra’s grip tightened. 

“That is all that matters.” Rhaenyra’s voice nearly cracked, “We have each other. We have our love. And we have dragons.” her voice became dominant and confident, “And I’ll burn any castle, town, or city that dares deny my son his rightful throne. I will defend my son from every single one of the Seven Kingdoms with fire and blood if need be.” 

Jacaerys

Dragonstone

Jacaerys laid silently on his bed in his bedroom, allowing Maester Gerardys to examine him. The cool touch of the Maester’s hand on his forehead, the gentle prodding of his eyes, and the light pressure on his muscles all passed in a blur. The Maester’s practiced hands continued their assessment, listening to his breathing, checking his reflexing responses. 

“When did this… cramping start?” questioned Maester Gerardys, taking a step back from the prince. Jacaerys was not sure if the timeline had been longer than today, perhaps he just never noticed it until now… in its severity. He responded with a light frown on his face, 

“I think today. I didn’t feel anything like this before. But then I suddenly had these intense urges…” Jacaerys’ voice trailed off with embarrassment. 

“Urges? Urges to do what exactly? Procreate?” asked Gerardys with an inquisitive eye. 

“Y-yes,” stuttered Jace, “intense urges. But… to be procreated. If that makes sense…” The prince was unable to find the right words and fumbled with his explanation. He clarified, his voice gained a hint of vulnerability,

“Not to be the one who takes… but to be the one who is… taken.” he said. Maester Gerardys nodded slowly, a silent realization began to form in his mind. His eyes narrow slightly as he contemplates the meanings behind Jace’s words. He began to piece together the cause of Jace’s symptoms. 

“My prince, I have heard tales…” Gerardys spoke gently and steadily, “tales of people, perhaps a very small few, who have certain unique tendencies. They feel these similar symptoms. It is something that has long been forgotten at the Citadel, once studied long ago. These tendencies seem to defy the traditional norm of men and women, with men typically being more dominant and alpha-like, and women being more submissive.”

“Submissive female qualities?” Jacaerys was confused and in shock. Sure he was submissive to Aemond in a sexual preference, but it seemed like there was a more scientific reason behind it.  

“Like I said, my prince, it is not something studied any longer by the Citadel.” Gerardys said, “the study primarily focused on these symptoms, some far stronger than what you’ve described. It surely can be heightened due to your growing body, increase of testosterone.” it seemed the Maester was finished with his examination of the prince. He tried to console Jacaerys, assuring him that it was nothing to worry about. 

The Maester soon bid farewell and took his leave, closing the door behind him. Jacaerys remained alone in his room, laid in his bed, feeling a mixture of confusion, fear, and shame. The weight of Gerardys’ words echoed in his mind. It was just untrue, all of it. He had to just be craving Aemond more than usual, since he was gone for the day, his cravings had to have increased. 

Consumed by frustration and desire, Jace let out an angry groan into a pillow. The absence of Aemond only amplified the intensity of his pent-up desires. He squeezed the large pillow as he held it under his torso, his face buried in another pair of pillows. All he wanted was to feel Aemond holding him… Aemond’s body on top of his own… and fucking. He began to feel the throbbing sensation again, beginning in his hardening cock, then to his hole. 

“Gods not again…” he grumbled. His body felt hot, as if it were lit on fire by a dragon, his skin practically radiated heat. He prayed that Aemond was on his way back home by now.  

Oldtown

Lord Hubert Hightower, flanked by his brother Ser Otto, Lord Mercer Tarly, and Lord Layne Blackbar, all sat at a table engaged in conversation. They spoke about the whispers and rumors circling the Seven Kingdoms regarding the Queen and her son. The Queen’s seclusion for two months was not a secret, and the fleeing of Jacaerys and Aemond to Dragonstone - together - was also not a secret. 

“The Queen’s isolation and the alleged… relationship between the two princes are giving a stronger case against her rule. The people’s faith in her ability to rule may waver…” said Ser Otto, looking around the table at the men. 

“And are you certain the Faith and the High Septon will stand with us… if these rumors hold any truth?” asked Lord Mercer. 

“We may not find support in our liege house… House Tyrell,” continued Ser Otto, “Elinor Tyrell and her sister Elayne are fervent supporters of the Queen.”

“You are right, my lord.” noted Lord Layne, “A woman in Highgarden is one thing… but a woman in King’s Landing… it is detrimental to the Realm.” 

“A recipe for disaster, as it is already proving.” agreed Lord Mercer, “Look at the war in Dorne. Sending our men to die.” 

“With our armies deployed in Dorne,” noted Otto, “we must be strategic in our approach. We have depleted our resources and cannot raise additional forces at this time. We will need to bide our time and push back at the opportune moment.” 

“Does this mean we are on track towards rebellion or a deposition of the Queen?” asked Lord Mercer. 

“I think the best course of action would be to seek her removal,” said Otto cautiously, “a full-blown rebellion would destabilize the Realm only further, costing us more lives and resources.” 

“And now? Where do we go from here?” asked Lord Layne. 

“We must seek the stances of our fellow lords of the Reach.” said Otto, “I suggest we reach out to the Lords of Honeyholt, Blackcrown, and Brightwater Keep.” 

“That is a wise course of action,” said Lord Hubert, mulling over his brother’s plan, “gauging their stances is the most cautious method before proceeding further.”

“We must also be cautious not to reveal our intentions too openly, or we risk rousing suspicion from the Queen’s loyalists.” added Otto.  

“Now, who would we replace Rhaenyra with as King? Aegon is her husband and surely will stand by her.” said Lord Mercer. The question hung in the air, prompting a contemplative silence as the men weighed the implications. With Aegon already standing at Rhaenyra’s side as her consort, the matter of replacing her on the throne becomes a complex issue. 

“It is a delicate question, for now.” said Ser Otto, “As of now, Aegon stands as her husband, we can expect him to be loyal to her cause. Discussing any alternative options must be done discreetly and only among ourselves.” 

“Prince Daeron is a viable candidate,” said Lord Hubert. 

“That is true,” nodded Lord Layne, “he lacks the controversial relationship that Prince Aemond has, and his time in the Reach has led to many adoring him.” 

Ser Otto, filled with determination, declared with a hint of satisfaction,

“Rhaenyra Targaryen shall not be queen for long.” 

Jacaerys

As Aemond promised his true love, he would return to Dragonstone by dinnertime that day. However, they would not be making time to dine, as Aemond informed the brown-haired prince of his mother’s agreement - that they were free to marry - and they were going to return to the capital that night. 

Aemond and Jacaerys soared through the sunset sky, flying west to King’s Landing, to the glowing orange sun on the horizon. Their dragons flew side by side, together, at a steady speed. The princes’ eyes often locked for a brief but powerful moment, exchanging loving glances, the weight of their shared desires hanging between them. The vastness of the sky and the distance between them only serve to heighten the anticipation and romantic tension.

King’s Landing looms before them, the Red Keep standing high on Aegon’s High Hill. The sprawling cityscape spread out before the princes. Jace’s heart beated rapidly in his chest, his thoughts consumed by the impending reunion with his mother. Though Rhaenyra’s agreement to their marriage paved the way for their return, the memory of their emotional confrontation still weighs heavily on his mind. 

Jacaerys and Aemond soon made their way to the Red Keep after landing at the Dragonpit. They walked side by side through the familiar halls, the servants and knights they encountered offered warm and sincere greetings. Their faces lit up upon seeing Jacaerys, expressing how happy they were to see him back. The welcome of the castle workers and protectors was a small comfort to him. 

Ser Harrold Westerling, the familiar and respected knight who watched Jacaerys and Aemond grow up, greeted the two princes with a small but genuine smile. His eyes shift between the two princes, 

“The Queen is ready to see you, my princes.” Jace nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat as he processed the news. His hands instinctively find Aemond’s, their fingers intertwining for comfort. Ser Harrold Westerling’s face remains stoic, but his sharp eye takes in the princes’ intertwined hands. “Her grace is in the Small Council chamber.” 

As the doors to the Small Council chamber swing open, Jacaerys steps in forward hesitantly, his gaze taking in the four figures standing at the end of the table. Rhaenyra, Alicent, Aegon, and Helaena all turn to look at the princes, their eyes fixated on Jace. Rhaenyra’s stare immediately locks onto her son, her expression a mixture of concern, guilt, and relief. 

Alicent stepped aside, out of Rhaenyra’s way, creating a silent corridor between Jace and his mother. The room holds its breath as Rhaenyra and Jace approach one another. Aemond remained still, his hands clasped behind his back. Rhaenyra’s face a mix of emotions - she didn't even know where to truly begin. Her heart was filled with love, pride, and regret. 

Rhaenyra’s hands clasped together, her knuckles turning white as she grips her fingers tightly, her anxiety and apprehension nearly causing her to twist them out of shape. 

“I made a decision as a Queen, before you left,” the Queen spoke softly, “when I shouldn’t have. I should’ve made a decision as a mother.” her voice quivered as she looked up into her son’s dark eyes, “And… I want you to be happy. So, you will not be forced to marry Helaena, if you do not want to. You have my support in marrying only Aemond if that is what you wish.” Her words lingered in the air for just a moment, her admission of her mistake echoed loudly. 

Jace leapt into his mother’s arms, and Rhaenyra enveloped her son in a tight hug. He buried his face into her neck, and she can feel the familiar warmth and comfort of holding her boy. Her own arms wrapped around him, holding him close, as if to shield him from all the pain she had caused. 

Jace then stepped back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears that he quickly wipes away. He stands next to Aemond, his face a mixture of relief and happiness. Rhaenyra looked at the tall silver haired prince, and gestured for him to step forward. 

Rhaenyra looked up at Aemond, 

“I am entrusting you to protect my son. To be his sword and shield,” her voice was filled with a mother’s stern resolve. 

“I swear to you,” spoke Aemond, “that I will protect him.” 

Chapter Text

Dragonstone

Princess Helaena was settled in her seat, her silver-gold hair cascading down behind her back. Alicent stood behind her, slowly braiding her hair into a looping bun, her fingers careful and meticulous. Helaena remained silent, her thoughts wandering to what laid ahead. Aemond and Jacaerys’ wedding was fast approaching, it would take place that evening at sunset. Her and her family traveled from King’s Landing to Dragonstone, where the private wedding would be held. 

Even though Rhaenyra gave Jacaerys the option if he wanted to also marry Helaena in order to sire heirs, the crown prince decided to wed her in addition to Aemond. He was in love with Aemond, but he understood the duty of having heirs to continue his line, and was only marrying Helaena out of duty. 

The wedding would be one of old Valyrian traditions, rather than in the name of the Faith of the Seven. The High Septon refused to officiate the wedding, declining the opportunity. 

“I want you to know,” said Alicent, “that you should not feel obligated to feel anything for Prince Jacaerys. I even advise you not to give in to any feelings for him. In order to protect your own heart.” 

“I know,” replied Helaena quietly, “I have love for Jacaerys, but I understand this is for our duty only.” the Princess was solemn in her response, but she understood and accepted the nature of how things had to be. Alicent nodded silently, her fingers continuing to move through Helaena’s hair as she tied the braid with a final securing knot. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork while considering her daughter’s words, 

“Good, I am glad you understand.” She walked around to face Helaena, kneeling before her and held Helaena’s hands in her lap. “You are making a sacrifice, one for the entire Realm.” 

…

The Painted Table room is filled with an air of urgency as Rhaenyra and her Small Council gathered for a quick update on the ongoing war in Dorne. Time was running short, the wedding impending. Rhaenys stepped forward, providing her report with a serious tone, 

“My Queen, we’ve suffered more losses. Twelve-hundred men lost at two battles for Vaith. We have yet to capture the castle after two attempts. Our men are facing heavy resistance in the Boneway, and the cost is mounting the longer no dragons are present.” The Hand of the Queen stood dressed in a dark and elegant gown of deep blue, a rich hue, a tribute to her lord husband’s house’s colors. The skirt of her gown cascaded around her, giving a sense of movement and grace. Her silver hair was arranged in a crown braid atop her head, and a golden seahorse clip adorned on the back of her head. 

“We may have to reconsider our strategies after the wedding.” sighed Rhaenyra. She stood at the head of the table, on the side of the North. She looked to the other end of the table, where Dorne was located. Her expression was a mixture of frustration and determination. The news of heavy losses in Dorne weighed heavily on her shoulders. 

The Queen stood in a beautiful gown of crimson silk, its vibrant hue symbolizing her power as monarch. The gown clung to her slender frame, drawing attention to her regal bearing. Its collar was wide and low, nearly exposing her shoulders. The body of the dress is intricately embroidered with golden thread, patterns woven into a design of intertwining dragons.

Maester Gerardys entered the room, and eyes turned to him as he approached the Painted Table. Rhaenyra realized it had to be time, the impending wedding ceremony, and as she looked at the Maester she murmured to herself, 

“The wedding…” she had lost track of the time, “Thank you, Maester. We will be there shortly.” 

“And also, your grace, the guests have arrived.” added Gerardys. The Small Council members began to leave the room, but Rhaenyra and Rhaenys walked side by side slowly, being the last to leave. 

“I thought the wedding was going to be small and private?” asked the elder Princess. 

“It is, I only invited a handful of guests. I extended an open invitation to others as well, but I don’t expect many to come.” noted Rhaenyra. 

“Actually, your grace, “Gerardys cleared his throat, “A ship has docked, an entire ship of guests.” Rhaenyra and Rhaenys looked at one another for a moment, stunned. 

Rhaenyra rushed down the hall and stepped out onto a balcony, her eyes widening as she looked down below the castle and towards the entry gateway. The sight before her was unlike anything she had expected. A procession of guests, numbering well over three dozen, made their way towards the castle. She could not believe that the lords and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms were actually going to show their support to her son.

“The Velaryons brought their own vassals,” mentioned Gerardys, standing behind Rhaenyra and Rhaenys on the balcony, “also have arrived the Starks, Arryns, Tully’s, Lannisters, and Tyrells.” 

“It appears the Great Houses have come to show their support,” said Rhaenys with a small smile. Rhaenyra was in disbelief. 

...

The location for the wedding ceremony was picturesque; a grassy hill at the edge of a steep cliff, overlooking the vast ocean. The white and gold flowers formed a beautiful backdrop for the traditional Valyrian officiant, and the sea breeze added a touch of natural ambience to the atmosphere. The guests had settled in, watching as the royal family arrived at the ceremony. They stood at the front of the small crowd of about forty-plus attendees. On one side stood Aegon with his step-sons Luke and Joffrey. Beside Aegon was his younger brother Daeron. Behind them was Princess Rhaenys and her lord husband, Lord Corlys, and their granddaughters Ladies Baela and Rhaena. 

Behind the royal family were many nobles of the Great Houses and their vassals. The Northern lords were present in full force, including Cregan Stark and his younger brother, Lord Bolton, Lord Karstark, and Lord Manderly. Lady Jeyne Arryn and several of her vassals, including Lord Sander of Gulltown, were present. The Lannister twins, Jason and Tyland, were there along with their wives, and Lady Jacinta of Ashford. The dynamic and leading sisters of the Reach, Ladies Elinor and Elayne of Highgarden were in attendance, accompanied by their vassals from the Reach. 

The presence of the dragons in the sky added a touch of wild and magnificent beauty to the scene. Vhagar and Vermithor perched majestically on opposite hills; Vhagar on the left of the ceremony, and Vermithor on the right. Their watchful gaze fixed on the ceremony. Dreamfyre gracefully joined Vermithor, the light blue dragon landing in a muffled thunder on the grassy knoll. The other dragons circled above, their calls echoing across the landscape - Sunfyre, Arrax, Syrax, and Moondancer. Their presence was a constant reminder of the power and legacy of House Targaryen.

Prince Aemond stood beside the officiant, his face a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He wore a doublet of rich white fabric, flowing over his muscled form. Embroidered along the edges of the doublet and encircling the cuffs were intricate patterns of golden and red thread, the designs reminiscent of dragons and flames. A black cloak of silk hung behind him, his hair was pulled back into a neat double-braided pony-tail, revealing the sharp lines of his face, and his eyepatch covering his scarred eye. 

The first to come into view was Princess Helaena, escorted by her mother, Alicent. She looked breathtaking in a sleeveless gown of silver and white. Her long silver-gold hair was crowned with braids and also a circlet of gold flowers. She walked down slowly and steadily down the white carpet, her eyes staring between the officiant and Aemond. 

Finally, Prince Jacaerys made his appearance, slowly walking down the aisle, accompanied by his mother, Queen Rhaenyra. Dressed in a white and gold doublet, like his betrothed Aemond, but with a white cloak down his back. Jacaerys looked determined and proud, a far cry from his usual cheeky demeanor. 

The officiant began the ceremony with haste, speaking in the ancient tongue of High Valyrian. Helaena spoke her vows first, her voice clear but also solemn, addressing both Aemond and Jacaerys. Aemond followed suit, his usually stern face was softened with a hint of vulnerability. Lastly, Jacaerys took his turn, his voice firm and resolute as he vowed before the officiant and the guests in attendance. 

Jacaerys gave his kiss first to Helaena, standing at his left. His lips met hers in a soft and affectionate gesture, and Helaena returned the kiss. Her hands rested gently on his chest as they shared the brief, and their first, moment of intimacy. Jace then turned to Aemond, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. They met in a tender kiss, Aemond lifting Jace’s chin with a gentle touch of his fingers. 

Within the castle of Dragonstone, the wedding feast was in full swing. Servants bustled about, carrying platters of food and pitchers of wine to the long tables where the invited guests were seated. The hall was filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and conversation, the atmosphere joyous and celebratory. 

The decorations reflected the mix of Targaryen and Velaryon heritage - dragon motifs and sea elements blended together. The tables were set with white table linen and silver cutlery, the candles provided a soft glow throughout the room. The scent of roasted meats, spiced vegetables and sweet treats filled the air. 

As the feast winded down, guests gave their congratulations to the three spouses, and soon was time for them to retire to their room. The time had come for the bedding ceremony. Aemond, Jacaerys, and Helaena made their way through the corridors of Dragonstone towards the large bedroom that had been prepared for them. 

The air was thick with anticipation and a touch of apprehension. Helaena stood behind the two young men as she followed them, her eyes were low. They approached the door to the room and stopped, a moment of silence passing between the three of them before Aemond reached out and opened the door. 

Aemond observed the tension emanating from Helaena. He could sense her anxiety over the prospect of what was to come. As they entered the marital chamber, Aemond’s eyes met those of Jace before he spoke. 

“I think I’ll give you two some time alone for now,” he said to them both. He knew why Helaena was even included in the marriage, for one purpose only. “I’ll go and… occupy myself elsewhere for the time being.” Aemond turned towards Jace, their lips met in a tender and brief kiss for their short, temporary, goodbye. He whispered to Jace, 

“Find me after.”  Aemond then turned towards Helaena. He paused for a moment, conflicted about how to say goodbye to her. He then leaned in to kiss her gently on her cheek, a show of affection but with slight trepidation. He spared one last glance at both Jace and Helaena before he turned and quietly left the room. 

Helaena made her way to the bed. The soft candlelight cast a dim glow over the room’s interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. Her fingers found the laces of her dress at the back and slowly started to unfasten them one by one. Jacaerys approached Helaena from behind, offering his assistance as she began to struggle with some of the laces. She nodded silently, allowing him to take over the task. His fingers replaced hers, delicately pulling the laces apart. 

Jace watched in awe and curiosity as the fabric of Helaena’s dress fell away, revealing the smooth skin of her back and shoulders. The soft glow of the candlelight cast a warm glow over her skin, accentuating her slender form and highlighting the slender curves of her body. His eyes traced over the expanse of her bare back, her shoulders. There was some admiration in his gaze, but a heaping feeling of apprehension. 

Helaena turned to face Jace, revealing the front of her naked body to him. Jace gulped nervously upon seeing her breasts, and looked back up to her eyes. She focused on undoing his clothes now, taking off the clasp of his cloak, removing it from his shoulders, unbuttoning his coat and shirt. 

With their clothes now fully discarded on the floor, the pair stood in front of one another at the bedside, both exposed and naked. The awkward silence between them as their eyes roamed over each other’s bodies, taking in the sight before them. 

“We… we don’t have to do this now…” murmured Jace softly. Helaena reached out and touched Jace’s chest with the tips of her fingers. She looked up at him with wide eyes. She did not seem entirely opposed to continuing. 

“It’s alright.” she responded in a whisper. Her voice carried a quiet confidence that seemed to echo her consent to continue. Jace felt a shiver run down his body upon feeling her gentle hands. He gently brushed aside some of Helaena’s long hair, his hand moving behind her neck to cradle her head. 

His fingers traced the line of her jaw as he looked directly into her eyes. Jace moved closer and pulled her towards him as their lips met in a deep and tender kiss. The initial hesitancy gave way to a growing hunger and intensity. His arms slowly wrapped around her slender frame, holding her close to her frame. Their lips moved together in a slow, fluid rhythm, their bodies pressed close together.

Jace felt his cock brush against her inner thigh, it was becoming slightly hardened. He slowly rolled his hips, grinding himself into her. He felt the shaft of his cock rub against her groin. 

Helaena broke their kiss and slowly stepped back and sat down on the bed. She shifted her body backwards, resting against the soft bedding as she looked up at Jace. His eyes followed her every move. She waited, and then Jace joined her. He laid beside her, one leg over one of hers, and he leaned propped up on an elbow to continue kissing her. 

Helaena reached a hand upward, running through his thick, curly brown hair. Her fingers gently tangled in the locks, pulling him slightly closer as they explored each other with their mouths. Jace continued to kiss her deeply, using one other hand to reach down to her breasts. He held one of them, squeezing slightly, running a finger around a nipple. Helaena let out a soft gasp, but continued to kiss her husband. She kept both hands on Jace, one around the back of his head, and the other cupping and caressing his face. 

Jace’s fingers slid down her torso, past her belly, and he slowed to a stop right above her groin. His heart was racing. He then continued downward, feeling her bare cunt. He hadn’t ever felt a woman’s genitals before, and it was surely different than fondling a cock. He rubbed his hand against the lips of her cunt. Helaena let out another soft gasp, pausing her kissing. Jace held his lips over hers, their hot breaths intermingling. 

Jace rubbed a bit harder, sliding some of his fingers between her cunt’s lips. He slid a single finger slightly, feeling wetness. He shifted his body to lay on top of her, just hovering above her body as he was on his knees and hands. Helaena looked down briefly at Jace’s hardened cock, pointing right at her cunt. She then looked up at him with wide eyes, holding his face with her soft hands. 

“Are you ready?” whispered Jace. Helaena nodded silently and closed her eyes. Jace used his knees to spread her legs apart slightly. He held his cock with one hand and slowly lowered, poking it in her cunt. He held it still for a moment, unable to slide it in. Jace huffed, slightly impatient and awkward. He rubbed his cock back and forth, spreading the wetness and lubricating the head of his cock. 

He then pushed in, going inside of her just about an inch. Helaena held her breath, her hands clung to Jace’s shoulders. Jace pulled back slightly, then pushed in a bit deeper. He pulled out, then pushed in deeper, half of his cock now inside her. He then pushed in deeper, sliding his entire cock inside of her. 

Jace lowered his body on top of Helaena’s, his own chest pressing against her breasts. He started to thrust, letting out low huffs as his breathing intensified. Helaena opened her eyes, feeling a burning, lustful, sensation in her body. Jace could feel her cunt throbbing against his cock, and he continued to grind his hips, fucking her slowly and steadily. He kept a rather serious and still expression on his face, one of determination and focus. 

Jace made eye contact with Helaena and then looked away, feeling a bit uncomfortable. It was both a feeling of strangeness and confusion that he was fucking the young woman he grew up with. He closed his eyes, his cock was throbbing hard now. He could not deny that fucking her felt good, sliding his thick cock in and out of her. He started to thrust faster, his breathing becoming heavier. 

Helaena wrapped her arms around Jace’s back, and he pressed his body hard against hers. He pushed his hips hard, his entire body shifting back and forth as he fucked. He was getting close. 

“Almost there…” groaned Jace softly, he kept his eyes closed. Helaena moaned softly, her face close in the crook of Jace’s neck, his long curly hair brushing against her face. Jace opened his eyes, feeling himself cum, and his breath hitched loudly. He gave a twitching thrust, pushing hard into her, and his wife gasped. Jace kept still, feeling his cock throb twice more, before relaxing. 

He slowly got off of Helaena, moving to her side. She laid still, opening her eyes and looking up at the ceiling. She reached for the blanket to her left side, pulling it over her body, covering herself. Jace’s eyebrows furrowed with curiosity and a bit of disappointment. He wondered if she still felt uncomfortable. 

“Are you alright?” asked Jace in a whisper. Helaena nodded silently, her fingers clinging to the edge of the blanket she held over her breasts. She turned to look at him, Jace’s forehead was slightly glistening with some sweat. 

“You can go see Aemond now,” said the Princess in a gentle, accepting, voice. Jace was puzzled. Was she trying to get rid of him? His expression turned to puzzlement and the words hung in the air leaving him disoriented. His eyes searched hers, trying to understand the intentions behind her statement. He sat in silence for a brief moment before responding, 

“Do you… not want me to stay?” he asked, his voice uncertain. 

“No, it’s not that.” she shook her head subtly, looking up at Jace with wide eyes, “I know you love Aemond. You should go to him now. I know he’s waiting.” Jace felt some kind of relief that Helaena understood the pull he felt towards Aemond. He met her eyes, his own gaze wide with a sense of relief. Jace leaned over and kissed Helaena on her lips, caressing her face gently. He brushed aside some of her messied silver hair, taking one last look into her eyes. 

Helaena watched as Jace got up and found a pair of loose trousers and a light tunic shirt, preparing to go find Aemond. She laid in bed in silence, exchanging one last look with Jacaerys before he left the room. 

Rhaenyra & Aegon

The Queen and her Prince Consort had retreated to their shared bedroom for the night. It had been Rhaenyra’s room during her six years of residing on Dragonstone, and she had taken great joy in showcasing all her trinkets and possessions to Aegon that she left behind. Old swords hung on the wall, serving as trophies and reminders of previous battles and victories by their ancestors. Bronze sculptures stood in the corner of the room, adding a touch of artistry to the dull gray space. 

Dressed in nightwear, the two were ready to retire for the night. Rhaenyra moved towards the bed, prepared to slide under the covers. 

“Rhaenyra,” said Aegon, standing in the middle of the room. 

“What is it?” she asked, lifting up one of the blankets, she had almost climbed into bed.  

“Dance with me.” he said with a pleading smile. 

“Dance?” she repeated, a hint of surprise in her voice, “Now? Here? There is no music.” she chuckled softly. She couldn’t help but walk over to him, her curiosity growing alongside her amusement. Aegon held out his hands and she met them with her own, feeling the warmth and firmness of his grasp. With a gentle tug, he pulled her close, their bodies now pressed together in an intimate dance. 

They began to move together, their bodies swaying in a slow, intimate embrace. As they danced, their eyes stayed fixed on each other. They didn’t need any music to guide them; their connection was enough. Rhaenyra’s lips curled into a smile. Aegon leaned in, drawn to her smile, and pressed his lips against hers. 

“It feels like there’s nothing else that matters in the world.” whispered Rhaenyra, and they slowly came to a stop. Aegon embraced his Queen tightly, his hands running down her lower back. The silence in the room intensified the intimacy of the moment. 

“There is nothing else,” Aegon said, “that matters in the world to me.” Rhaenyra felt her heart flutter, a warmness surging across her entire body. But she could not help thinking about the world they would return to once the night was over. 

“I must admit,” she began, “I fear what storm we will walk into when we return to King’s Landing.” Aegon could sense her concern and held her tighter, attempting to provide a sense of comfort. 

“We will face the storm together,” said Aegon confidently. Aegon’s hand moved to rest over Rhaenyra’s pregnant belly. A sense of responsibility of care filled his heart as he felt the subtle roundness of her abdomen growing. 

The couple walked together to the bed, Rhaenyra got in first, allowing herself to rest against the soft sheets. Aegon slid off his trousers and shirt, and got into bed naked beside her. He laid down with a loud satisfied sigh. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but admire his body, and she looked at him with a smirk. 

“What?” asked Aegon, even though he noticed Rhaenyra studying his naked body. He sat atop the bed’s blankets, his legs crossed, his bulge pronounced. Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, giving a more serious look at her husband. “Oh…” said Aegon playfully, “is there something you want?” Rhaenyra swung a pillow at Aegon’s chest and he chuckled. She turned onto her side, facing away from Aegon, crossing her arms. 

“Oh no you don’t.” said Aegon with a low growl. He spooned Rhaenyra, lifting up her light night gown, revealing her bare legs, thighs, and butt. He cupped his body against hers, wrapping his arm around her lower abdomen. He slowly grinded his cock against her butt, sliding his hand further down to her groin. Aegon began to kiss Rhaenyra’s neck slowly, moving from her earlobe, down to her shoulder. 

“You’ve figured it out,” teased Rhaenyra. 

“Oh I have,” muttered Aegon between the slow, wet, kisses across her neck and shoulder. Aegon’s hand slid further down, rubbing her cunt and finding her clit. He began to rub it back and forth, tracing his fingers around it. Rhaenyra closed her eyes and gasped lightly. His cock slowly hardened, poking against where her two thighs laid closed together. Aegon rubbed her clit a bit faster with consistent rhythm, using two fingers. He hooked his fingers into her hole, pressing inside and rubbing longer strides. 

Aegon felt Rhaenyra’s body quiver from the mounting pleasure, and the mounting heat. His fingers were becoming wet, and he smirked. He sucked on Rhaenyra’s soft skin on her neck, letting out a low growl. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low voice. She nodded, 

“Y-yes,” she whispered. She turned to lay on her back, looking into Aegon’s eyes. Aegon shifted, letting her lay flat, but he kept his fingers in her cunt. His erect cock laid on her thigh, and they both glanced at it. 

“Not yet,” whispered Aegon. He thrusted his fingers deeper in her, and she gasped louder. Aegon smirked. He inserted a third finger, rubbing consistently. Rhaenyra closed her eyes, clenching the bed sheets with her hands. Her chest rose and fell from her intensifying breathing. Aegon opened up her nightgown, fondling one of her breasts with his other hand. 

Aegon quickly got up onto his knees, placing himself between Rhaenyra’s legs, preparing for what was to come next. He thrusted his fingers harder, rubbing her clit with his thumb, and she began to moan. 

“Oh yes, fuck,” gasped Rhaenyra. Aegon smiled as he realized she was cumming. He leaned over her body and kissed her, taking out his wet fingers. Rhaenyra’s eyes were closed as she caught her breath, returning Aegon’s kiss. 

Aegon looked down, holding his cock and rubbing it against her hole. He couldn’t wait any longer, pushing himself inside her. Rhaenyra gasped loudly again, and Aegon immediately thrusted into her. 

“Oh fuck you’re wet,” groaned Aegon. He moved his hips quickly, keeping himself slightly off of her body and her small pregnant belly. Even though Aegon preferred to press his entire body against hers while fucking, he did not want to make her more uncomfortable than she already was while pregnant. However, while off her body, he could see more of her, and watch his own cock go in and out of her. 

“Yes, Aegon,” panted Rhaenyra, holding her hands tightly around Aegon’s biceps. Aegon let out a deep and loud groan, an animalistic one at that. 

“Fuck the gods,” moaned Aegon, he shifted his body hard against Rhaenyra’s pushing his cock in as deep as he could, “I’m cumming, fuck…” he exhaled loudly. He gave a final few thrusts and then slowed to a stop. 

Aegon pulled himself out and off of Rhaenyra, collapsing right beside her, immediately closing his eyes. He held his face close to Rhaenyra’s, letting out a satisfied exhale. Rhaenyra chuckled quietly and caressed Aegon’s face, 

“I liked that,” 

“Me too,” said Aegon quietly, already drifting off into a sleep, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Aemond

The newly wedded Prince was seated alone in a separate bedroom, silently immersed in a book when a soft knock on the door echoed through the room. He looked up, his focus momentarily interrupted, but a sense of anticipation washed over him. 

“Enter,” said Aemond, closing the book and standing up from the table he sat at. The door opened and Jacaerys walked in, immediately locking eyes with Aemond. Jace shut the door and slowly walked into the room, holding his hands together nervously. 

“Well… how was it?” asked Aemond, standing tall. 

“I got it done and over with,” said Jace bluntly, his tone indicating a subtle desire to move past the subject. Aemond moved towards Jace slowly, the gap between them slowly closing. Just as they were about to meet, Jace lunged forward, and their lips crashed together in a fervent, passionate kiss. Jace let out a soft, almost involuntary whimper, his body tingling with pleasure and strong needs. Aemond’s touch sent shivers down his spine as his hands moved down Jace’s lower back, grabbing onto his ass tightly. 

Aemond’s lips left Jace’s and moved to his neck, pausing there as he breathed in deeply, taking in the strong and sweet scent. The sweet scent filled Aemond’s nostrils, and something primal and possessive stirred within him. His breath was warm against Jace’s neck, sending tiny tremors throughout his body. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Jace’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. 

Aemond easily lifted Jacaerys into his arms without much effort, Jace instinctively wrapped his legs around Aemond’s waist, holding on tightly. Aemond carried him towards the bed, each step bringing them closer to the soft comfort of the mattress and fur blankets. Aemond put Jace down on his back, and pulled off his trousers. 

Jace took off his own shirt, kicking the pants away, and laid nakedly in the bed under Aemond’s watchful eye. Aemond paused, studying Jace’s body. He could see Jace was already erect. 

“Didn’t get it all out of you, did you?” smirked Aemond. Jace scoffed in a teasing tone, 

“Take off your clothes, enough talking.” Aemond did as his husband commanded, took off his shirt, his pants, and boots. Aemond slowly crawled onto the bed, over Jace, and between his legs. Aemond laid his cock on Jace’s, pressing against him with pressure. Jace let out a satisfied exhale, wrapping his arms around Aemond’s back. 

“I’ve needed you… so… badly,” whispered Jace, his eyes widening. Aemond lastly took off his eyepatch and threw it across the room. Aemond bit his lower lip as he studied Jace’s face, his flushed cheeks, the rosy tip of his nose, and the plushness of his lips. He could still smell the sweet scent off of Jace, and it was making him feel harder. 

“There’s something about you…” noted Aemond, “different.” Aemond’s hand unconsciously found its way to Jace’s lower belly, his touch was gentle and protective. Aemond’s eye flickered between Jace’s hand and his own hand, feeling more possessive. 

Aemond got up slightly, spreading Jace’s legs apart, and sat on his knees. He lifted Jace up slightly, beginning to finger his hole. Jace groaned in a low whisper, feeling Aemond’s forceful fingers rub against his hole and slowly push inside. 

“You’re soft, and loose…” noted Aemond, “you seem more ready for it than before.” 

“Take me, Aemond, I need it, please.” said Jace in a submissive tone. Aemond held his cock at Jace’s hole, already wettened and slick. Aemond pushed his thick cock inside of Jace, and Jace smiled as he groaned, gasping loudly. Aemond then lowered his body over Jace’s once more, his cock entering deeper in his husband. 

“Oh fuck,” whispered Aemond under his breath, “you feel good…” 

“Give it to me,” murmured Jace, opening his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around Aemond’s toned back. Aemond could feel Jace’s hole throbbing, opening and gripping with each thrust, it was unlike anything he had felt before. 

Aemond nipped at Jace’s neck, starting with gentle and tender bites, but then pressing his bite firmly on Jace’s neck. The bites started small but grew firmer with each passing moment, his teeth leaving reddened marks all over Jace’s skin. Jace whimpered, clawing his fingers into Aemond’s back passionately. Aemond reached one hand to Jace’s soft ass cheek, squeezing it tightly and grunting as he continued to fuck. Jace looked into Aemond’s eye, seeing the primal need to claim him badly. 

Aemond was marking his husband, claiming him in the most physical and primal of ways, much more than words could do. He wanted to make sure that anyone who’d see those marks would know that Jace was taken, that he belonged to Aemond Targaryen and only Aemond Targaryen. 

“Aemond,” moaned Jace, his breathing becoming heavier, his brows furrowing as he felt himself coming close to cumming. Aemond looked at Jace, hovering over his face, thrusting his hips hard and fast, 

“I’m close, too.” said Aemond, already knowing that Jace was ready to burst, “I want to cum all over you,” whispered the silver haired prince. 

“No,” Jace’s eyes opened wide, and he grabbed Aemond’s ass, keeping him close, “cum in me, I need it in me.” Aemond let out a low growl and smirked. Within a few strokes inside Jace’s wet hole, he felt it coming. 

“Oh fuck, Aemond, yes,” cried out Jace, his cock bursting handsfree, his load shooting onto his belly and chest. Aemond grunted loudly, his muscles tensing as he fucked hard, spreading his seed inside of Jace. Jace smiled as Aemond collapsed into his arms, laying flat on his chest, feeling Aemond’s seed shoot inside of him. 

“Oh gods,” sighed Aemond with satisfaction, giving a slow kiss on Jace’s neck after finishing. He went to move, but Jace held his hands firm on Aemond’s ass, making sure he didn’t pull out. 

“Don’t move,” whispered Jace, “stay in me… just for a moment.” 

“Hmm,” Aemond grumbled with a smirk, lifting his face to look into Jace’s eyes, “hoping my seed sticks?” His question was more of a teasing joke, but Jace nodded subtly. Aemond paid no mind to his response, and laid his head back down on Jace’s upper chest. Staying inside of his lover felt good anyway, keeping a warm and firm grasp over his cock. 

“We did it,” mumbled Aemond, keeping his face buried in the crook of Jace’s neck, “you’re mine… for all to know.” he said possessively. Jace started to caress Aemond’s back, feeling the long scar that ran diagonally down his back. Aemond held his hand over his bites on Jace’s neck, they were tender and reddened. Aemond’s claim was clear and undeniable, the physical evidence of their union and Aemond’s possession etched into Jace’s skin. Jace donned a small smile and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief and content before he responded,

“I am yours.” 

Rhaenyra 

The Red Keep

The day of the royal family’s return to King’s Landing happened days after the wedding. Though traditionally, the heir to the Iron Throne and their spouse would take residence on Dragonstone after marriage, Jace decided he wanted to stay in the Red Keep a bit longer, seeking closeness with his mother. Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena accepted Jace’s request without protest. Helaena was pleased to know she could still be near her family, and Aemond was content as long as he stayed close to his husband. 

Rhaenyra was on her way to an upcoming Small Council meeting, which involved the presence of additional noble guests. She was to announce the appointment of a new Master of Coin, since Beesbury’s dismissal left the seat open, and make a few changes. 

Rhaenyra soon entered the room where the Small Council was taking place. The members were already gathered around the table, standing and waiting for the Queen. Rhaenyra took her seat at the head of the table, where she greeted the members. Aegon, Alicent, Rhaenys, Jasper Wylde, Tyland Lannister, and Orwyle all looked back at her, ready for the meeting to begin. 

Standing near the table in the room were Rhaenyra’s additional guests, Lady Elayne Tyrell, Lord Simon Staunton of Rook’s Rest, and Lord Gormon Massey of Stonedance. Simon Staunton and Gormon Massey were Lords of castles in the Crownlands; they had been very close with her father. They frequently offered him counsel and advice on various matters, earning his trust. Rhaenyra sought out their insights and experience once more, hence their presence. 

Rhaenyra then began the meeting with a warm greeting, 

“Good morning, it is good to see you all.” she said with a warm smile. There was a sense of formality and purpose in her tone, “We have much to discuss today. I have decided to make some changes to the Small Council, hence the invitation of Lady Elayne, Lord Simon, and Lord Gormon.” the Queen glanced over at the other end of the table, where standing in a line were the three guests. Elayne stood between the two men, she was younger than both of them. 

“Lord Beesbury’s dismissal has left the seat of Master of Coin open,” continued Rhaenyra, “and thus I have decided to name Lord Gormon as the new Master of Coin. Lord Gormon possesses extensive experience and knowledge in managing financial affairs, often doing so unofficially for my father, the late-King. Lord Gormon,” Rhaenyra looked to the fifty-three year old man. 

“My Queen,” Gormon bowed his head gratefully, “I am honored to have been named your Master of Coin. I shall serve you faithfully.” 

“Lord Gormon, please take your seat.” said Rhaenyra, she gestured to the open seat next to Lord Jasper towards the other end of the table. Gormon Massey took his seat, leaving Simon Staunton and Elayne Tyrell still standing. Rhaenyra shifted her focus to the seventy-eight year old Lord Simon, 

“Lord Simon has served my late father well for many years.” her voice carried respect for the elder lord, “he is known for his strong convictions and unwavering morals. His experience and dedication will make him a valuable asset to the Small Council. Thus, I shall be creating a new office and seat. Lord Simon shall be named Master of Justice.” she declared with authority. The room held a sense of anticipation as the other members took in this new development. 

“As Master of Justice,” continued the Queen, “Lord Simon shall focus on ensuring a fair and legal justice system within the Realm. He shall oversee the administration of justice, and a new standardization of courts across the Realm. He shall work closely with Lord Jasper, Master of Laws.” Simon Staunton stepped forward.

“Thank you, your grace.” he bowed his head, “I am honored and grateful.” The Queen gestured to the open seat on the other side of Jasper, and Simon took his seat. There were now four members on each side of the table. To Rhaenyra’s right: Rhaenys, Simon, Jasper, and Gormon. To Rhaenyra’s left: Aegon, Alicent, Orwyle, and Tyland. There was one guest left, and one seat remaining at the other head of the table. Elayne Tyrell stood patiently. 

“Finally, we come to Elayne of Highgarden, sister of the Regent of the Reach, Elinor Tyrell.” Rhaenyra’s gaze came to rest on Elayne, donning a sympathetic smile. “It is my understanding the Chamber of Lords is now ready to commence its work, its structure and protocols fully established and outlined in the Royal Charter. In the coming weeks, the Great Houses shall appoint their representatives to serve in the Chamber. In order to maintain a clear line of communication between myself, the Small Council, and the Chamber of Lords; Lady Elayne shall be appointed as Speaker of the Chamber.”

Elayne bowed her head gracefully, expressing her gratitude for the appointment. Rhaenyra gestured to the empty seat at the other end of the table, “Please take your seat, Lady Elayne.” said the Queen, her voice was warm and welcoming. The Lady from Highgarden dutifully stepped forward and took her seat at the end of the table, signaling the finalization of the Small Council’s composition. 

Rhaenyra’s gaze traveled around the table, taking in the diverse group of individuals. She noted with satisfaction that four of the nine council members were women: Rhaenys, Alicent, Elayne, and herself. This was a significant step forward for the representation of women in the council, and in the government of the Seven Kingdoms. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but feel pride in this accomplishment. 

“Grand Maester, I was told you had some news from the High Septon. I am sure it is regarding my son’s marriage to Aemond and Helaena.” Rhaenyra began to move onto the next topic. All eyes were on Orwyle. Orwyle took a short moment to gather his thoughts before speaking, 

“The High Septon has expressed his opinion on the marriage,” he said, his voice laced with caution, “he considers it an extreme departure from House Targaryen’s customs, describing it as a break from all norms and traditions.” 

“The High Septon seems to offer his opinions whenever he pleases,” Aegon chimed in with irritation, “even when no one asks for them.” 

“Do we have a reason to worry about any additional comments or actions from the Faith?” asked Rhaenys in a cool and measured tone, shifting the question to the rest of the council. 

“I have heard some stirs of whispers from many far southern lords,” mentioned Lady Elayne, “their discontent with the marriage.” 

“This would be a better time than any other to bring it up,” exhaled Alicent nervously, “Lord Lanor of Crakehall withdrew his marriage proposal to Prince Daeron to his daughter… because of this.” 

“What?” exclaimed Rhaenyra, “What does Daeron have to do with it?”

“It was ambiguous,” responded Alicent, “and I’d rather not delve into the details.”  

“What did he say about my brother?” demanded Aegon, looking at his mother. 

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra spoke sternly, “I trust you can tell that something more than ambiguous was said by Lord Lanor, and I need to know what it was.” 

“He said,” began Alicent, “that he is worried Daeron may find a man more suitable than his own daughter, and did not want to risk that. He said he doesn't want to drag his House’s name so lowly…” Rhaenyra’s mind raced as she sat up straight in her chair, her hands now clasped together in contemplation. 

“House Crakehall shall face retribution in some form,” she said confidently and bluntly. 

“Your grace, this was anticipated,” Lord Tyland tried saying with a calm voice. 

“It does not matter,” interrupted Rhaenyra, “House Crakehall will face consequences for the insult to my family. This is non-negotiable.” Rhaenyra eyed her new Master of Coin, Lord Gormon. 

“Lord Gormon, we are to begin with raising Crakehall’s taxes by ten percent for the next three months. I’ll be damned if these petty lords think they can get away with sullying my House.” declared Rhaenyra, her determination was evident in her tone. 

“As you wish, your grace.” nodded Lord Gormon. 

“They think our power is solely rooted in our dragons,” Rhaenyra let out a scornful laugh, “I will make sure to extract every last bit of gold they possess. Oh, and House Beesbury and Honeyholt. Let us increase the taxes there as well.” 

“Your grace,” Lord Jasper spoke up, “these taxes will only reflect harshly on you and the Wardens of those kingdoms.” 

“Lord Jason and Lady Elinor have a firm grasp over their regions,” contested Rhaenyra, “if issues arise, I shall hear them.” 

…

The meeting soon concluded and the council members departed. Rhaenys lingered behind, intending to speak with Rhaenyra in private. Rhaenyra, still seated, observed Rhaenys remaining in the room. The Hand had walked some of the members out, but then shut the door once they left. 

“Talk to me plainly, Rhaenys.” sighed Rhaenyra. Rhaenys walked back over to the table and sat down next to Rhaenyra. 

“I know you’re upset about Lord Crakehall’s decision,” Rhaenys’ voice was a mixture of seriousness but also motherly, “but you must consider the potential consequences of raising his taxes so severely - especially during wartime.” 

“But I cannot appear weak as Queen, there must be consequences.” said Rhaenyra in a gentle, almost defeatist tone. 

“I understand,” nodded Rhaenyra, “but consider the long-term impact of your decisions. This could create resentment and backlash from the other lords across the Realm.” 

“So how do I respond to their disrespect of our House, of my son and his marriage to Aemond?” asked Rhaenyra, almost rhetorically. The Hand of the Queen paused for a moment, mulling over Rhaenyra’s question. 

“Show your strength through acts that benefit the Realm.” suggested Rhaenys, “Through diplomatic or political maneuvers. Raising taxes on one or two Houses might send a message, but it could create animosity and division.” Rhaenyra nodded and sighed, taking in what Rhaenys had advised her. 

“I do not wish to fight two wars,” continued Rhaenyra, “Conquering a kingdom pales in comparison to defending the right of my son to love who he wants to love. Maintaining order over my own subjects…” 

Rhaenys put her hand on Rhaenyra’s, offering a comforting gesture. 

“It is no easy burden to bear.” Rhaenys paused, “I wish I had your courage, to do the same for my own son.” Rhaenyra looked at Rhaenys, there was a glimmer of sadness appearing in the elder Princess’ eyes. Rhaenys’ admission caught Rhaenyra off guard, as she didn’t expect her to be so vulnerable. The Queen reminisced of her first husband, Laenor Velaryon. They had an agreement that they could lie with whoever truly pleased them, as long as it was in secret. Laenor had someone, his name was Qarl. Most in the family knew about this secret relationship, Rhaenys often acted like it didn’t exist. Rhaenyra could see the regret in Rhaenys’ eyes. 

“You raised a true man,” noted Rhaenyra, comforting Rhaenys, “a gentle, compassionate man.” Rhaenys smiled faintly, a mixture of pride and sadness in her expression. She missed her children so dearly. 

“He was,” agreed Rhaenys, “a kind and gentle soul.” 

“And now,” continued Rhaenyra, “we can correct the things we regret. Our fates have not been sealed just yet."

Chapter Text

Jacaerys

Dragonstone

On Dragonstone, Prince Jacaerys was secluded in his bedroom, alone, suffering from severe cramps in his belly and recurring hot-flashes. Prince Aemond had gone out fishing for the day, leaving Jace alone for the time being. The couple decided to spend a few nights at Dragonstone, however, these symptoms appeared strongly that morning. Jace had Maester Gerardys do more research, and he patiently waited for the Maester’s return. 

As the cramps and hot-flashes continued to torment him, Jace tried to take slow, deep breaths to ease the discomfort, but it only provided temporary relief. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of frustration and helplessness as he lay in bed, desperately clutching his abdomen. The brown-haired Prince laid in bed naked, on top of the sheets, with the fur blankets strewn across the floor. 

There was a knock at the door and Jace quickly grabbed one of the sheets to cover his hot body. 

“Yes?” asked Jace in a hoarse voice. 

“Maester Gerardys,” answered the Maester. 

“Come, come.” said Jace desperately, relieved that the Maester finally returned. The aging Maester entered the room slowly, his kind face showing concern upon seeing the young prince’s uncomfortable state. He approached the bed, carrying a few books, and sat in a chair next to the bed. 

“How are you feeling, my prince?” asked Gerardys, eyeing the boy, “Are the spasms and fever still severe?” Jace looked at Gerardys with his sweat covered face, his skin glistening, and dark circles under his eyes. 

“Yes…” he said tiredly. He struggled to sit up in the bed, leaning against the wide headboard. Gerardys nodded and began to sift through one of his books. Jace suddenly realized he felt a warm wetness between his legs. He was afraid to look, and surely didn’t want the Maester to see whatever was down there. He tried to ignore it. Gerardys noticed Jace shifting uncomfortably, sensing that something was bothering him. But before Gerardys could ask, Jace spoke up, “Tell me, what did you find?” 

“I have been studying my own texts here at Dragonstone and received some from the Citadel.” began the Maester, his voice careful and cautious, “There has been a… phenomenon … where some individuals are born with what is called a secondary sex.” Jace’s eyes widened, he was puzzled. The Maester continued, “Meaning, some women are born more dominant, aggressive, possessive even… a more muscular build.” 

“And for men?” asked Jace softly.

“And some men, which is even rarer, have been born submissive, occasionally displaying these symptoms anywhere between every three weeks to six months at a time. Now of course there can be men that have the dominant secondary sex, and women the submissive secondary sex.” continued the Maester. The Maester held his tongue for a moment, Jace knew there had to be more. 

“What does it mean, Maester?” asked Jace desperately, he tried to shift closer to Gerardys, but stopped and winced from the pain in his abdomen. 

“It is possible,” Gerardys took in a deep, nervous, breath, “that the body has gone into heat: needing to reproduce.” 

“H-how could this happen… so suddenly?” asked Jace, at a total loss. However, the more he thought about it, his initial interactions with Aemond nearly a year ago did start out as urges… leading to a slow-burn that incrementally got worse. 

“It is possible within the year your secondary sex emerged,” said Gerardys carefully. 

“But, I am a man. How could I be in heat?” blurted Jace. Gerardys stood up and placed a gentle hand on Jace’s shoulder, 

“Prince Jacaerys, it’s important to stay calm. While this phenomenon is very rare and not well understood, it’s not unheard of. It’s possible that your body has been developing towards this for some time, and now it has fully manifested.” He paused, and chose his next words with care, “Though the heat and symptoms are undoubtedly distressing, we need to focus on managing them for now. Your health and safety are of the utmost importance.” 

Gerardys walked towards the door, 

“I have instructed your lady-in-waiting to fetch fresh water, towels, and new bed sheets. Your meals will be served to you.” he stopped in the middle of the room, looking back at Jace, “Ser Bryce will be stationed at your door. You must stay within your room for the next few days, for the symptoms to pass.” Jace looked up in disbelief. It now felt as if he were being imprisoned. “You must not let Prince Aemond in either.” Jace was now taken aback. 

“W-what do you mean I can’t see him? My own husband? Why?” Jace asked with a strained voice. 

“These symptoms,” continued Gerardys cautiously, “they are very potent. You may affect Prince Aemond, even without him being in the same room as you. It would be best if he could stay away from you until this phase passes. For both your sake and his.” 

Gerardys opened the door before Jace could even come up with something to respond. He was too fatigued. Gerardys encountered Ser Bryce, the knight ordered to stand guard of the Prince’s room. Gerardys nodded to the knight, 

“Keep this door shut, otherwise the sweet scent will escape.” muttered the Maester in a low voice. Ser Bryce noted the scent, and nodded quickly, shutting the door. 

Jace immediately threw off the sheets as soon as the door shut, embarrassed and somewhat disgusted to see the clear, thick liquid staining them. He felt confused and ashamed, but Gerardys’ words rang in his mind as loud as a church’s bells: heat. He tears off the fitted sheet, bundling it up into a ball. He then grabbed a loose blanket to wrap his body around as he called to the knight outside his door, 

“Ser Bryce,” After a few seconds, the knight cracked open the door and replied, 

“My prince, is there something you need?” 

“My lady-in-waiting, get her. I need those sheets now.” said Jace frantically. 

“Yes, my prince.” the knight then went off to call his lady-in-waiting. He was thankful Ser Bryce didn’t ask any further questions. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment that someone else was still going to see what had happened to him. 

Minutes later, his lady-in-waiting, Alena, entered the room quickly with focus. She was just 19 years old, a year older than Jace and Aemond, with auburn hair and warm brown eyes. Jace felt comforted with her being the one to replace the sheets. He stood off to the side, his arms bundling around his body with the blanket that concealed his nudity. 

The door was still left open, and Ser Bryce looked into the room, looking at Prince Jacaerys. Jace’s back was to the door as he watched Alena finish the bed. The twenty-one year old knight was tall, far taller than Aemond, he had a muscular build, with curly golden blond hair, and a thick beard on his face. He tried his best not to stare at the Prince, examining his figure, his thin waist tightened by the blanket around him. The scent of the room, the scent of the Prince, was difficult to ignore. Ser Bryce’s eyes fluttered as he inhaled, looking away to try to compose himself. Alena finished and headed for the door. Jace thanked her and watched her leave. He made eye contact with Ser Bryce. 

Jace found himself staring directly at Ser Bryce, seeing the knight’s eyes roaming over his body, taking in his scent and appearance. Jace felt exposed and vulnerable, only feeling worsened by the burning heat condition in his body. 

“The door!” scowled Jace angrily, and Ser Bryce quickly reached to shut the door. 

…

Dusk soon came, and Aemond had yet to return apparently. Jace’s mind wandered to the thoughts of his husband. And despite the Maester’s orders - mere suggestions to a prince - he longed for the sensation of Aemond’s touch, the sound of his voice, too. The hours passed slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity. He found himself listening to the calls of the crows, their caws echoing through the air. The room became darker as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room. 

“Ser Bryce?” called out Jace. 

“Yes, my prince?” responded the knight. 

“I have a question.” After a few seconds, the knight slowly opened the door, standing tall and broad in the doorway. Ser Bryce looked at Jace with the same dutiful expression he always wore, but the scent of the heat rolled off the prince in waves. 

“Of course,” stuttered the knight nervously, “my prince. What is it you wish to ask?”

“Did Aemond return?” asked Jace, sitting on the edge of his bed. He kept his sheet wrapped around his body, mostly covering his chest as well, but his shoulders were bare. He needed to feel some of the coldness to stave off the hot-flashes. 

“No, I am afraid not, my prince.” answered the knight. Jace scoffed and threw his back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. A wave of disappointment washed over him. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated and lonely… and his cock was twitching… craving attention. The heat in his body was becoming unbearable. 

Ser Bryce watched him from the door, his eyes still drawn to the prince’s exposed shoulders. He began to remove his armor, piece by piece, doing so as quietly and discreetly as possible. He was aware of the prince’s condition and his need for rest, but he was also finding it harder and harder to ignore the growing need in his own body. The scent of heat continued to fill the room. 

Jace heard the door shut and lifted his head. Ser Bryce was not on the other side of the door, but instead approaching him. Jace smelled a strong scent in the air, coming from the knight himself. It was a mixture of musk and desire… and Jace’s body felt as if it were throbbing. He shifted back into the center of his bed. 

“Ser Bryce, what are you doing?” 

Bryce towered over the prince, licking his lips. There was a feral look in his eyes. As much as Jace’s body was craving sexual attention, he was beginning to feel afraid now. Bryce reached down, tearing open the bed sheet that Jace wrapped around his body. Jace’s exposed body laid in front of Bryce as he stood at the edge of the bed. 

Jace tried pushing himself back, but Bryce grabbed the prince’s shins, pulling him back. 

“Stop!” shouted Jace. Bryce pushed down his own pants, revealing his swelling cock. Jace gulped nervously, feeling as if a stone passed down into his stomach. He looked down at his own groin, his cock was slightly fidgeting, becoming hard. 

Jace tried to kick Bryce away, but the man’s muscular legs were thick as tree trunks, and immovable. Bryce leaned down, pinning Jace’s arms outwardly across the bed. Jace turned his cheek, avoiding eye contact with the man over him. 

Ser Bryce let out a feral growl, running his tongue down Jace’s jaw, down his neck, and down to his chest. Bryce grinded his cock against Jace’s, poking against his balls. The wet feeling from between Jace’s legs returned. Bryce rubbed his cock underneath Jace’s balls, wettening his cock. Jace felt frozen. It was as if his body wanted this, and he could not even convince it otherwise. 

Bryce spread open Jace’s legs even further, and Jace winced from the wideness of his legs being moved. Bryce lowered his body, beginning to rub his cock on Jace’s hole that was fully lubricated on its own. 

“No! Stop!” shouted Jace, beginning to shed tears, “Help!” screamed the prince. Jace was losing strength, both in his voice and his own limbs to fight back and resist. The door swung open with a loud thud as it slammed against the wall.

Aemond burst through the door, seeing Bryce on top of Jace, and his own primal instincts kicked in, and anger surged throughout his body. Without hesitation he lunged at the knight, yanking him off of Jace and threw him to the floor. Aemond mercilessly pummeled the knight, punching him in the face again and again, alternating between his two fists. 

“Aemond!” called out Jace weakly, struggling to sit up, with tears streaming down his face, “Aemond, stop!” 

Aemond heard Jace’s plea, and his rage began to subside, albeit reluctantly. Aemond was suddenly dragged off of Ser Bryce by two other knights, who then restrained the bloodied Ser Bryce. Aemond’s chest heaved with anger and jealousy, but his focus suddenly turned to the tears and distress on Jace’s face. 

“Aemond…” murmured Jace in a strained voice. Aemond looked down at his fists, they were covered in blood and they were tender from punching the knight. He ignored it and went over to the bed, wrapping his arms around Jace. He could feel the heat emanating from Jace’s body, fueling his own primitive instincts. Aemond buried his face into Jace’s hair, inhaling the deeply sweet scent that mixed with the coppery smell of blood. 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

Rhaenyra stood in front of a tall mirror in her royal apartment, her hand lovingly caressed her pregnant belly, feeling her child growing inside of her. The dress she had been trying to put on was now too small for her growing frame, and she could feel the discomfort of trying to fit into it. Her lady-in-waiting, Elinda, emerged from the next room, holding a new dress, 

“My Queen, I have found an alternative that may be more comfortable.” Rhaenyra recognized the dress she often wore when pregnant with her first three sons. She occasionally dubbed it her royal maternity gown. She sighed and reluctantly agreed to putting it on. 

As Elinda moved to help Rhaenyra into the maternity gown, Rhaenyra couldn’t help but feel frustrated. The gown was comfortable, but she knew it made her look more matronly and less regal. Nevertheless, she knew it was necessary for the comfort of her pregnancy, and let Elinda dress her. 

Moments later, Alicent was escorted into the room by Ser Harrold and greeted Rhaenyra. There was an air of formality in her tone, however Rhaenyra nodded with a polite smile, 

“Good morning, Alicent.” 

“You look healthier, Rhaenyra,” said Alicent, studying the Queen’s relaxed features, her loose shoulders, and general smile on her face. The Queen had a glow to her. 

“Thank you,” smiled Rhaenyra, “I must admit, pregnancy seems to agree with me more this time around. I feel stronger and more vibrant.” Rhaenyra then quietly thanked Elinda as the lady-in-waiting fastened the last string of Rhaenyra’s gown. 

As Rhaenyra and Alicent set off towards the dining room where they would have their afternoon tea, Rhaenyra’s gown rustled softly with each step. The corridors they walked were bustling with activity; important figures arrived at the Red Keep in anticipation of the opening ceremony and first meeting of the Chamber of Lords. Servants scurried about, carrying luggage and other belongings for their lords and ladies. Alicent and Rhaenyra were navigated through the crowded halls by their Kingsguard; Ser Harrold, Ser Criston, Ser Steffon, and three other younger knights. 

The pair made it to the dining hall and were quickly served tea. The servants laid out cups of fragrant, herbal tea, as well as a variety of pastries - both sweet and savory - on the table. The pastries included lemon cakes, honeyed scones, and small meat pies, all made with the finest ingredients from the Red Keep’s royal kitchens. 

“How was your lunch with Helaena?” asked Rhaenyra, seated across from Alicent at the end of the table. 

“She - I am a bit worried… about Helaena,” said Alicent, holding her hands around her cup of tea, feeling its warmth. The Dowager Queen had a hint of reservation in her voice. 

“What’s troubling you?” asked Rhaenyra kindly. 

“She has yet to become pregnant,” said Alicent, in almost a blurting manner to get it off her chest. “I feel that Jacaerys and Aemond spend most of their time together, alone.” Rhaenyra took a sip of her tea, her expression was neutral. 

“It is true that Jace and Helaena are the ones expected to sire heirs,” she said carefully, “but they are young and have plenty of time. After all, it has only just been a month since the wedding, perhaps a little longer. They will conceive when the time is right.” Rhaenyra avoided commenting on Aemond and Jace spending so much time together, they were in fact spouses, too. And it was well-known that Jace’s one true love was Aemond. 

“You know how I am,” Alicent said with a light sigh, “I am a planner, I like to ensure our futures are secure.” 

“Of course, I know that about you.” smiled Rhaenyra, “your strategic thinking is one of your greatest strengths. But sometimes we can’t control everything.” Alicent revealed a small smile, feeling somewhat better from Rhaenyra’s words.

“Has there been any update on finding a match for Daeron?” asked Rhaenyra, changing the subject. Alicent shook her head, her expression was somewhat downcast once again, 

“No, we’ve yet to find a suitable wife. I think the withdrawal of Lord Crakehall’s offer certainly had an effect.” The Queen let out a sigh, her frustration showing. 

“Raising taxes on Crakehall was the best I could do in that situation,” said Rhaenyra, “I hoped it would make them reconsider Daeron’s offer. But it seems like that hasn’t worked.” Truthfully, Rhaenyra raised taxes on Crakehall as punishment for essentially sullying the Targaryen name, for judging Aemond for marrying a man. Rhaenyra could see that this matter was bothering Alicent, she just wanted to ensure that her children would be secure. Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena were all taken care of, all that was left was Daeron. 

“We will find a match for Daeron,” Rhaenyra reached over to place a comforting hand on Alicent’s hand, “it might just take a bit more time.” 

“You know,” Alicent said with a slight smile, looking down at her tea, “something odd came up when I was meeting with Lord Crakehall. Something I haven’t told you.”

“Oh? What happened?” asked the Queen, her interest was definitely now piqued. 

“He alluded to remarrying in order to have a son that would take over Crakehall, instead of his daughter. And he hinted at asking me.” Alicent said carefully, looking up to meet Rhaenyra’s eyes. 

“Well…” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, “that’s… unexpected. Did you consider it? Even for a moment?” 

“No, absolutely not. My place is here with my children, with you. What am I to do off in the Westerlands?” responded Alicent lightheartedly. 

“I’m glad you feel that way, you belong here, with us.” responded Rhaenyra. Even though Rhaenyra did not want Alicent to be married off to Lord Lanor Crakehall, she did ponder the possibility of Alicent marrying him. If such a marriage happened, it could certainly influence Lord Crakehall’s decision regarding his daughter’s match with Daeron. 

However, she knew that she had to think of Daeron’s sake as well. Perhaps she could use this opportunity to marry him off into another influential House, rather than having two family members bound to House Crakehall. So many thoughts ran through her mind. Her eyes appeared scattered. 

Before Alicent could question Rhaenyra on her wandering mind, Aegon entered the room with a boisterous greeting to his wife and mother. Both turned their heads to the door, watching him walk in with some sense of swagger. He was in a good mood. 

“Aegon,” said Alicent, her tone a mix of annoyance and amusement, “must you always make such an entrance?” Aegon stood behind his mother’s chair and leaned down to peck her on the cheek. 

“Of course.” he responded, then walked to the other side of the table to give a longer kiss to his wife. Aegon then stood at the head of the table, between his mother and wife. “I know I am interrupting tea time, but I come with news.” 

“Do tell,” said Rhaenyra, finishing the last bit of tea in her cup. 

“I just encountered Lord Adrian Celtigar,” said Aegon, “there’s been a significant development in Dorne.” Lord Adrian Celtigar had recently been appointed as a Lord Representative to the Chamber of Lords by Rhaenyra, to represent the Crownlands and serve as its delegation’s leader. House Celtigar was extremely close with Houses Targaryen and Velaryon. 

“Prince Qoren’s daughter was found dead.” said Aegon bluntly, “She was found hiding at the castle of Salt Shore, with a handful of other Martell vassal ladies.” Rhaenyra and Alicent were both stunned by the news, their eyes wide with disbelief. 

“Prince Qoren’s daughter?” clarified Rhaenyra, “Did he mention how she died?” 

“I’d rather not get into those details…” said Aegon cautiously, “it is rather gruesome.” 

“Aegon,” Rhaenyra stared up at her husband, “tell me.” 

“It started with the siege of Salt Shore,” continued the Prince, “Tyrell and Lannister forces - they imprisoned her after capturing the castle. But they deliberated far too long on what to do with her, if to even inform you and request what to do - they thought it would take too much time. She… she died in her cell from starvation.” 

Alicent had a horrified look on her face, and Rhaenyra slowly looked away from her husband,

"She died... at the hands of our own negligence?"

“I heard she was only fourteen,” muttered Alicent sadly. 

“That’s… absolutely terrible.” said Rhaenyra, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Yes,” agreed Aegon, “but this will surely weaken Martell's resolve. Their heir is gone.” 

“I guess so,” sighed Rhaenyra. 

“Love,” Aegon said looking to Rhaenyra, “we need to send dragons and finish this war.” Rhaenyra had a look of hesitation and apprehension, looking over at Alicent. Both women knew that ending the war with dragons would bring a swift victory… but would lay total waste to the rest of Dorne. A handful of castles had already been sieged, the death toll from both her own armies and the enemies continued to grow each week.

The Great Hall

The Red Keep

Later that day, it was time for the opening ceremony of the Chamber of Lords. The new institution of government had no building or hall of its own, so Rhaenyra granted space in the Red Keep for the Chamber to use until a new building was constructed in the city. The opening ceremony would take place in the throne room, the Great Hall, since it was the largest room in the entire castle. 

The throne room was bustling with activity as the members of the Chamber of Lords made their way into the hall. Noblemen and ladies filled the hall, their fine clothing a testament to the importance of the occasion. All of the men and women present were official members of the Chamber of Lords. There were a total of one hundred eighteen members: six of the North, sixteen of the Vale, twenty-four of the Westerlands, five of the Riverlands, thirty of the Reach, ten of the Stormlands, five of the Iron Islands, and twenty-two of the Crownlands. They were mostly men, with a handful of women: lords, knights, and ladies representing the various Houses of their kingdoms, appointed by their Wardens. 

All of the royal family, except for the Queen, were already present in the hall, standing at the base of the throne’s dais. Rhaenys, Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, Baela, and even little Joffrey stood on the right side of the dais. On the left were the remaining members of the Small Council. 

A bell rang at the Great Hall’s main door, and the room fell silent, the Queen was about to enter. 

“Her grace, Queen Rhaenyra, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, First Men, and Rhoynar, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!” boomed the announcer. Everyone’s attention was glued to the door as it opened, and then appeared the Queen. 

Rhaenyra wore an elaborate black and red floor-length gown, her silver blond hair flowing in two looping braids around the crown of her head. She soon ascended the steps leading to the Iron Throne with a regal air about her. 

As she sat down, she held her chin high. Stepping into the open aisle space of the Great Hall, was Lady Elayne Tyrell. She gracefully made her way down the aisle, commanding attention with her elegant attire. Her gown, in the green and gold hues of House Tyrell, swayed with each step she took. As she moved, many in the audience turned her eyes towards her. 

Elayne stopped a few meters before the dais, before the entirety of the royal family. 

“Your Grace,” she began, her voice echoing confidently in the hall, “I stand before you today, seeking the formation and the opening of the Chamber of Lords of the Seven Kingdoms in your name.” Rhaenyra remained poised as she listened to Elayne’s declaration, recently elected among the Chamber’s members to be their leader, and Speaker. 

“Speaker Elayne,” Rhaenyra responded, her voice booming, “I have granted your request to form and open the Chamber of Lords in my name. The Chamber shall be sworn in.” Rhaenys stepped forward, being handed a parchment paper to read off from Lord Jasper, the Master of Laws. The room fell silent, all eyes now on Rhaenys. The paper contained the official oath and promises that the members of the Chamber would swear to uphold. 

Rhaenys unrolled the paper, cleared her throat, she looked out to the grand hall filled with the Chamber’s members,

“Raise your right hands,” surely enough, all of the nobles raised their right hands, facing forward, facing the throne. 

“Do you solemnly swear, as an appointed representative of your House, to serve the interests of the people of the Realm of Westeros, to uphold the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, and to faithfully discharge the duties of your office, to the best of your ability?” 

“ I do.” chanted the Chamber. 

“So help me the Seven, the Old Gods and the New.” said Rhaenys, lowering the paper. 

“ So help me the Seven, the Old Gods and the New.” chanted the Chamber in response. As the echo of the oath faded, Rhaenyra took a moment to gather her composure before addressing the room. She surveyed the assembled members of the chamber. 

“Today is a historic day,” she began, her voice carrying authority and strength, “the formation of this Chamber marks a significant milestone in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. We are here today to ensure that the voices of the noble Houses are heard and that their concerns are addressed.” 

Aemond & Jacaerys

Dragonstone

Aemond stood still, lost in his thoughts, as Maester Gerardys explained Jace’s condition at the moment. 

“I want Ser Bryce executed.” said Aemond, seeming to ignore the scientific information Gerardys was telling him. He seemed unfazed by the technicalities of the situation. 

“My prince,” Gerardys exhaled, trying to assuage Aemond from taking any drastic measures. “I implore you to give Prince Jacaerys his space while he recovers… from his condition.” Aemond’s eye narrowed, 

“I will be the one to protect my husband from now on, since not even the Kingsguard can be trusted.” His voice flickered with paranoia and anger. “He is my mate. ” said the silver haired prince with a primal instinct. Aemond opened the door and went into the room, slamming it shut on Gerardys. 

Aemond found Jace lying in the bed, the air was sweet in the room, a potent fragrance that stirred something deep within him. Jace woke up from his nap, looking over at Aemond. The two just stared at one another from across the room. Aemond’s body was taut, his muscles coiled tight, and he felt a tightness in his pants. The primal part of him wanted nothing more than to rush over to his husband and claim him. Yet he stood still, afraid to make Jace feel worse than he already did. 

“Come lay with me,” said Jace in a sweet voice. Within seconds, Aemond’s resolve wavered at the sound of his husband’s voice. The invitation was too alluring to resist. Aemond crossed the room and climbed into the bed. Jace lifted up the sheet, allowing Aemond to get in the bed as well. Aemond started to take off his clothes instinctively, glaring at Jace’s naked body under the blanket. 

Aemond got into the bed, sliding under the sheet, his legs and arms grazing against Jace’s hot body. His hands moved over Jace’s body, his fingers tracing Jace’s faintly defined muscles. 

“I am sorry…” murmured Aemond, “I should have been here.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” said Jace, nuzzling into Aemond’s arms and chest, “my body… it betrays me.” 

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s… your instincts.” responded Aemond, his expression darkened with some sadness about how Jace was feeling. 

“What is happening to me?” Jace looked up with worried eyes, his eyes becoming watery, “I’m all… all wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Aemond held firmly onto Jace, shaking his arm, being insistent. “Do not say that.” Aemond rolled over on top of Jace, their bodies firmly pressed against one another. Aemond’s breath shuddered upon feeling Jace’s throbbing cock against his own. There was a strong warmth coming from his groin. Jace cupped Aemond’s face with a small, comforted, smile. 

The couple just stared deeply into each other’s eyes for a moment. Aemond then slowly reached down, beginning to kiss up Jace’s neck. Jace’s body instinctively arched against him, a soft gasp escaped from his lips. Aemond left a trail of kisses down Jace’s neck, sending shivers down his mate’s spine. He started to run one hand down Jace’s side, reaching under to his ass, between his warm skin and the bed sheet. Jace immediately spread his legs, letting out a louder gasp as Aemond grabbed him. 

“I need you right now,” whispered Jace, his eyes fluttering from the excruciatingly rising sexual desire, “please,” Aemond did not say a word in response, continuing to kiss Jace’s neck and collar. He sniffed him and inhaled deeply. 

“Fuck…” muttered Aemond after taking in his mate’s scent. He looked down at Jace with a stern eye. He leaned down and pressed a hard kiss against Jace’s lips. Aemond then started to roll his hips, grinding his cock into Jace’s. Jace wrapped his hands around Aemond’s back. 

“Yes, yes,” Jace whispered from the slow humping. Aemond used his thighs to part Jace’s legs even wider, reaching a hand down to his hole. Aemond noticed that Jace was wet, and looked down, hesitant at what he was feeling. 

Aemond saw the clear lubricant on his fingers, then reached back down to Jace’s hole. It was hot, wet, and he slid in his fingers. Jace’s hole wasn’t too tight, allowing for Aemond’s two fingers to slide in easily. Jace arched his back more and groaned softly, 

“Yes,” he continued, “spread me open, I want your cock, please, Aemond.” he had a begging tone. Aemond didn’t waste any time, he couldn’t, not now. He removed his fingers and held his cock at Jace’s hole. He gave one look to Jace, and Jace nodded - ready for his mate. Aemond pushed in his cock slowly and Jace’s jaw dropped in pleasure. 

Aemond leaned in and over Jace, beginning to fuck him slowly. Jace dug his fingers into Aemond’s back, throwing his head back. 

“Fuck, yes, gods,” exclaimed Jace in a moan. Aemond kept his head low, burying his lips into the crook of Jace’s neck. He sucked on Jace’s soft but tight skin, his own back arching as he thrusted in and out of his mate. Aemond’s cock slid in and out, and he marveled that he didn’t even have to spit on it to lubricate. 

“Is that good?” whispered Aemond into Jace’s ear. Jace nodded and whimpered, engulfed in too much ecstasy to respond with words. “Fuck,” murmured Aemond. He lifted himself up a few inches above Jace, propped up by his besides Jace on the bed. Jace ran his hands down Aemond’s chest, watching the sweat begin to form on his skin. 

“Deeper, Aemond, harder.” insisted Jace in a moan. Aemond did as his husband commanded, thrusting harder, slamming into Jace repeatedly. 

Aemond could feel the rising heat from Jace’s body, his hole throbbing and gripping his cock, becoming wetter and slicker. His own cock throbbed hard, he couldn’t take it out too far and only felt a desire to keep it deeper in his mate. Jace began to stroke his own cock, his fingers wettening with the precum that leaked from it. Aemond looked down, seeing Jace’s cock as if it were ready to burst. 

“I can’t hold it any longer,” grunted Aemond. 

“Just fuck me, cum in me,” moaned Jace. Aemond thrusted harder, groaning and breathing heavily. He rested his entire body on Jace, wrapping his arms under Jace’s shoulders and back. Jace did the same, interlocking his arms around Aemond’s back. The two were inseparable, with Aemond’s face buried into Jace’s neck. 

Aemond groaned loudly, his breath heaving as he came inside Jace. Jace moaned loudly, his own cock squirming as it ejaculated against Aemond’s torso. Aemond twitched and his hips convulsed, he felt his own balls throbbing hard as he shot his load into Jace. He remained still, still unloading his seed. 

“Oh gods, Aemond, yes!” cried out Jace, letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes. He held onto Aemond instinctively, grasping tighter and firmer. 

“Jace,” groaned Aemond. He lifted his head, holding his nose and lips right over Jace’s. Aemond donned a proud smile, and Jace smirked with a chuckle. 

“What?” asked Jace softly. 

“You took me well,” 

“Don’t I always?” teased Jace playfully. Aemond chuckled, lowering down to kiss Jace on his lips. 

“Maybe this time I’ve put a babe in you,” whispered Aemond, lowering his head back into Jace’s neck again. Jace’s smile disappeared, remembering his condition, and everything Maester Gerardys told him. Even though his condition made him afraid and uncomfortable, his attraction to Aemond had never felt so strong… his desire to take his seed, it was unbelievably insistent. Gerardys only confused and scared him more. His body felt the urge to conceive and grow a child within him... but how could that even be possible? It went against all norms he knew… alas, his body seemed to be going down its most natural path. 

Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

Rhaenyra sat at the head of the Small Council table, her gaze was steady and commanding as she addressed the members around her. The princes, Aemond and Jacaerys, entered and stood to the side of the table, as all the seats were taken. Their presence filled the space with a mix of anticipation and tension, however, the topic was not going to be about the married couple, but the war in Dorne. 

“This morning’s report from the army has clocked the death toll,” began Grand Maester Orwyle, holding a small piece of paper, “at three thousand six hundred fifty-five for our own men. The death toll of the Dornish… estimates range anywhere between eight to thirteen thousand.” 

A somber atmosphere settled over the Small Council, the numbers that Orwyle reported hung heavily in the air. Rhaenyra clenched her jaw, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. The losses were escalating on both sides, a sharp reminder of the cost of war. 

“This war needs to end,” began Rhaenyra, “and we can only assure a swift end to the war with the use of dragons. Our men grow tired.” Most of the council members nodded in agreement at Rhaenyra’s words. Aemond, in particular, looked resolute, knowing that the use of dragons could decisively end the conflict - and he knew exactly why Rhaenyra invited him to the meeting. 

“We have reasonable suspicion to believe that Qoren Martell is holed up at Godsgrace,” continued the Queen, “I must send at least two dragons to Dorne, and not Rhaenys, as she is needed here.” Rhaenyra glanced over to Aemond. Aemond met Rhaenyra’s gaze, understanding the unspoken implication. He knew what was expected of him. 

“Aemond, I need you to lead the attack on Godsgrace.” said Rhaenyra. 

“As you wish,” spoke Aemond, but before he could say anything else, Jace jumped in, 

“What? No.” the members’ eyes darted to Jace’s small outburst. 

“It is alright,” said Aemond, keeping his stature firm, slightly turning his head to Jace’s direction beside him, “I will be fine, and I will be back within a week.” His gaze was maintained at the Small Council, and Rhaenyra. 

“Jacaerys,” said Rhaenyra, “you may go with Aemond to Godsgrace if you wish. Two of our biggest dragons will easily break through the castle’s defenses.” Jace stood silently, pondering the idea. He had an issue with Aemond leaving him alone, given that he had a hard time getting through his “condition” of being in heat. 

“Fine, that is agreeable.” nodded Jacaerys. Aemond lowered his head and donned a small smile, pleased with Jace’s decision that they’d go fighting on dragonback together, like a true Targaryen couple. Jace subtly put his hand over his lower abdomen, feeling the tenderness of his body. 

“And are we to show… restraint, at Godsgrace?” asked Aemond. 

“No.” answered Rhaenyra bluntly, “Destroy it. The only remaining strongholds in Dorne are Godsgrace, Vaith, and the Tor. Destroying Godsgrace will be the fatal blow to Dorne’s morale, as it is an ancient castle. Then, we will begin withdrawing our troops and let Dorne smolder and settle in its own ashes.” Aemond nodded pleasingly, he was not opposed to this plan at all. He was happy to see Rhaenyra finally showing her ruthlessness, to use her might as a Targaryen to lay waste to Dorne, after her predecessors letting them get away with their independence for decades. “Then, perhaps they will be ready to talk.” added Rhaenyra. 

“I suggest Prince Daeron escort the Tyrell army back through the Prince’s Pass.” suggested Aegon. He received a worried glare from his mother down the table. Rhaenyra glanced at Alicent. Alicent already understood the seriousness of the matter, and Daeron’s effectiveness in leading men on his own. 

“Very well, I’m sure Daeron will be pleased to get back into action.” agreed Rhaenyra. 

“Your grace,” Lady Elayne Tyrell spoke up from the other end of the table, “shall we begin drafting a treaty for Dorne to sign?” 

“Well, who would sign it if the Martells are eradicated?” asked Aegon, before his wife could even answer. The council members exchanged glances, the question still unanswered. 

“We shall deliberate that when the time comes,” said Rhaenyra, “whoever remains and rises from the ashes to bend the knee.” 

…

After the meeting ended, Aemond and Jacaerys walked side by side back towards their apartment in the Red Keep. Jace was worried and his shoulders were tense, Aemond immediately noticed it as they got into the hall and away from any lingering eyes. Aemond stepped in front of Jace to stop him in the empty hall. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind?” asked Aemond, looking down at his husband. Jace sighed and looked away for a moment. 

“I’m afraid of my… condition returning while we’re away.” Jace felt embarrassing even speaking it aloud. Aemond reached to hold Jace’s hands. 

“Do not worry, we will be back home in a week, perhaps even sooner.” said the taller prince, “And by then, Maester Gerardys will have more information for us.” Maester Gerardys was the only one who really knew about Jace’s condition of entering heat, and the couple preferred they kept it that way until they learned more about it. And, Jace felt too ashamed and embarrassed to have to explain it to someone else. 

“I trust you,” Jace had a hint of skepticism in his voice, but he forced himself to have some hope. He looked up at Aemond, leaning upward to kiss him. 

“Good.” muttered Aemond. 

“I should probably tell Helaena that we’re leaving on the morrow, though.” noted Jace. 

“Would you like me to come with you?” asked Aemond. Jace smiled sweetly, 

“No, it’s fine. Go ready our clothes for our trip.” he gave one more kiss to Aemond, and the taller prince was then on his way to their apartment. Jace watched his husband walk down the hall, soon disappearing as he turned a corner. 

Jace felt a mixture of emotions swirling within him, he was worried about their safety, his heat returning, and even nervous about using Vermithor to destroy a castle for the first time. Jace made his way down the hall, going in an opposite direction than Aemond did, to go find Helaena. 

Helaena

Helaena sat in a comfortable armchair with Daeron standing beside her and showing her his latest sketches. She admired his drawings with a warm smile, her eyes shining with pride. 

“These are excellent, Daeron.” Helaena complimented, “You have a real talent.” 

“But this?” Daeron said, gesturing to the embroidery on the table. On the table was the Princess’s current work in progress and she picked it up to study her work after her break. On an embroidery hoop was expertly stitched a beautiful depiction of a field of wildflowers. Delicate petals, leaves, and stems took shape under her skilled fingers, bringing the scene to life in exquisite detail. “It is truly stunning.” added Daeron, taking his seat beside Helaena. 

Helaena smiled and beamed with pride from her little brother’s praise. The two of them had always shared a strong bond over their artistic pursuits, whether it be drawings or embroideries. Ever since Daeron was forced back from Dorne, the two were spending a considerable amount of time together while working on their hobbies. 

Helaena continued to embroider her work, stitching carefully and precisely with her nimble fingers. She was fully engrossed in her work, her eyes focused on the fabric in front of her. As she embroidered, her face was softened by a content smile, and the sunlight filtering in through the nearby window illuminated her features. 

Daeron, who was observing her, couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate her beauty. He glanced at his sketchbook, taking it off the table, and opened to a fresh page. He had a sudden desire to capture Helaena’s delicate features on paper. He sat quietly, his pencil in hand, beginning to lightly sketch general shapes of her head and shoulders. His gaze moved methodically across the page. With each stroke, the portrait started to take form, the angles and lines slowly came together. 

Helaena was entirely preoccupied with her work and was unaware of Daeron’s sketching. Daeron often looked back at Helaena, taking careful note of every detail of her face, and the soft curve of her lips. 

There was a gentle knock on the door and Daeron’s head shot up, and Helaena slowly looked to the door. 

“Come in,” she said, her voice warm and inviting. The door opened and Prince Jacaerys entered. Jace walked over to the sitting area where his wife and Daeron were seated at the table, 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“Not at all.” said Daeron, quickly closing his sketchbook. Helaena glanced curiously at Daeron, who hastily closed his book. She glanced back at Jace, 

“What brings you here?” 

“Aemond and I are being sent to Dorne, to end the war.” answered Jace, “We’re going to Godsgrace.” 

“End the war?” asked Helaena curiously, “Did Dorne suddenly decide to stop fighting?” 

“No, it won’t be a peaceful surrender,” clarified Jace. “We will confront Qoren Martell one last time with fire and blood. It’s the last stronghold he has in the region, and once the castle is destroyed… it will effectively end the war.” Daeron sat on the edge of his seat, eager to hear more about the war. He had yet been told about being the one to escort the Tyrell Army back through the Prince’s Pass to the Reach. 

“How long will you be away?” asked Helaena innocently. 

“We should be back in a week, I hope sooner.” nodded Jace. Helaena seemed reassured by Jace’s estimate, her brow slightly less furrowed. 

“Please be careful, I worry about you when you’re so far away,” said the Princess. Daeron sat quietly, trying to distract himself with his sketchbook. He subtly rolled his eyes at Helaena’s comment. 

“I will, I promise,” said Jace with a smile. He reached out to Helaena and took her hand, “We’ll be back before you know it.” Helaena chuckled quietly at his last remarks. “I need to go help Aemond pack, but shall I come find you later this evening for dinner?” asked Jace. Helaena nodded in agreement. Jace lifted Helaena’s hand and planted a kiss on it, and then headed for the door. He departed with a final nod, leaving behind Helaena and Daeron. 

As the door closed behind him, an awkward silence settled over the room, broken only by the quiet sound of Helaena’s embroidery loop knocking against the nearby table. Daeron turned the pages of his sketchbook back to the drawing he was working on of Helaena. His gaze fell on her features once again. 

“I don’t think Crakehall was meant for you.” said Helaena bluntly, still intensely focused on her embroidery. Daeron’s concentration was now broken momentarily, 

“What makes you say that?” he asked, curious about her observation. 

“Plain in sight, unseen by most,” Helaena’s voice was dream-like and airy, “bond formed in time.” Daeron was puzzled and furrowed his brow, staring blankly at Helaena. She paused embroidering and looked up, seeing the confusion on Daeron’s face. She began to chuckle softly. 

“You…” Daeron began, “are a mystic.” 

Chapter Text

Daemon

Lys

Prince Daemon walked into a brothel with an airiness to his step and stride, feeling ready to relieve himself. The Prince was stationed at Lys for a short break from his military expedition with the Pentoshi Army and Navy in the Stepstones, as Lys was the closest city to their nearest frontline. 

Daemon walked into the brothel, immediately hit by a wave of intermixing scents that were both alluring and striking. He walked into the small lobby, where the brothel’s madam sat at a receptionary desk and greeted him. 

“My lord,” she stood, the madam was tall and had dark features, her eyes lingered on Daemon, her voice was sultry and inviting, “How may I assist you tonight?” 

“Looking for some plain satisfaction I presume.” said Daemon, leaning against the desk. 

“Well, I must inform you that prices are doubled tonight, as tonight is the traditional Claiming Night.” said the madam. Daemon furrowed his brow slightly at the mention of the doubled prices, but his interest was with the event happening. 

“Claiming Night?” he leaned comfortably forward, “I confess, I’ve never before heard of such a tradition. Do tell, what is its nature?” asked the Prince. 

“Well, every few months, the city’s unclaimed omegas, typically low-born, come and seek to be claimed solely for the purpose of conceiving.” the madam explained with a lighthearted voice. 

“And does this Claiming Night happen to correlate with the recent surge in clientele?” he glanced around, peeking into the great room through some opened curtains, where a large number of soldiers mulled around with wandering prostitutes. It was rowdy and loud in the great room. 

“Of course,” smiled the madam. Daemon thought about it, looking into the great room. He could see Lysene prostitutes lounging on plush couches, many of them wore barely any clothing, revealing their breasts… and some of them were young men. However, Daemon never heard of the term ‘omega’, it perhaps had to be a Lysene, or even southwestern Essos term. Daemon paid the woman, and walked through the curtained doorway. 

As Daemon stepped into the room, he was met with a sea of bodies entwined with passion. The sounds of moans and sighs hung in the air, seductive laughter and chatter, the pungent scent of sweetness mixed with masculine musk. The great room was not where most conducted their sexual encounters, it was mainly reserved for “courting”, finding your whore, being danced upon, and lots of touching. 

Daemon walked through the edges of the room, seeing many of the soldiers he had just dined with earlier. The air seemed to thicken with sex the further he ventured into the great room. He could feel the eyes of the watching omegas following him, their gazes a mix of lust and anticipation. As he passed by, whispers trailed in his wake. Fingers brushed his arm, and alluring smiles beckoned him to join in the primal dance of claiming. 

Daemon spotted a single woman sitting by herself who was staring at Daemon, she sat with her legs crossed, and her hair was nearly as blond as a Targaryen. His eyes locked onto her and he stood still. Her beauty was undeniable. His eyes were drawn to the dramatic curves of her body, the gentle slope of her neck, and her piercing violet eyes, which seemed to beckon him towards her. 

Daemon approached the lonely woman, a mix of intrigue and attraction was etched on his face. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes never left hers. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you, you seem like a mysterious, lovely one.” said Daemon with a husky voice, “Why such a beauty sits alone on a night like this?” the woman took a sip of wine from her cup and then sat up, looking up at Daemon. 

“Just waiting for a worthy alpha.” she answered. Daemon assumed that an alpha was the type that would claim an omega. He cracked a smirk. He enjoyed her confidence. 

“Well, it seems fate has brought me to you at just the right time then, my dear.” he answered, his voice laced with playful arrogance. “Perhaps you are in need of a dragon, not just an alpha.” the woman chuckled to herself and shifted on her small couch, gesturing for Daemon to sit beside her. Daemon’s smirk widened as he moved to sit beside her on the small corner couch. 

“Now,” Daemon grazed his fingers across the woman’s exposed arm, “what is a woman such as yourself, with such… elegance… doing in a place like this?” He clearly was studying her near platinum blond hair. Her Valyrian-like features. “You seem more at home in a palace than a brothel, yet here you are…” remarked the prince. 

“And what is a Prince of Westeros doing in a Lysene brothel, hundreds of miles away from home?” she asked with wide, innocent eyes, almost teasing him. Daemon donned a wry smile from her question, and he was amused by her audacity to question him like so. 

“A Prince of Westeros… I’m not so sure about the Westeros part anymore,” he sighed, “but any prince has desires. The allure of this place called out to me.” there was a yelping and loud moaning from across the room. The two looked. A man was fucking a young girl on a table, mounting her for all to see. Daemon’s eyes widened with interest. The woman drank from her cup, 

“What savages…” she murmured. Daemon chuckled at her remark. 

“I suppose it’s quite a sight for someone unused to the … peculiar customs of Essos.” said Daemon.

“Oh, this is a common sight for me… but yes, I will never be used to it.” she said. She turned to focus her attention on Daemon once again. She put her hand on his inner thigh, rubbing him firmly. A soft gasp escaped his lips as he felt her hands on his inner thigh, the touch made his cock twinge with excitement. She put down her cup on the endtable and moved to sit on Daemon’s lap, facing him. Her dress was light and she had nothing underneath it, Daemon could feel the heat emanating from her groin. 

She started to grind against his hardening bulge. Daemon began kissing her neck, using his tongue to lick her in between the kisses. He ran his fingers through her silvery hair. He squeezed her breasts and buried his face in them. 

“Let me see the dragon come out then.” she said in a seductive whisper. 

...

Daemon pushed the Valyrian-like woman onto a small bed in one of the many privacy rooms in the brothel. He tore off his own clothes and watched the woman slip off her dress. As he took off his pants, she opened her legs, wide for him to see. She was visibly throbbing, and Daemon’s cock began to hurt from how hard it was. It was pulsing, he needed to penetrate her. 

Daemon lunged onto the bed, laying between her legs, immediately driving his cock into her wet cunt. She moaned and held her hands at Daemon’s lower back. Daemon started to thrust forcibly. It had been weeks since his last fuck, weeks since he last came, and he needed to burst. He held his nose at her throat, smelling her sweet and pungent scent, it seemed like perfume. 

He drove his cock deeper in the woman, causing her to moan loudly. She clawed at Daemons’ back, digging and scratching into his skin. Daemon winced slightly at the feeling of her fingernails scratching his skin. He did not look directly in her eyes, but just at her silvery blond hair that cascaded around her head and her chest. 

“Harder,” moaned the woman, and Daemon did as she requested. He lifted his torso off of her body, propping himself up so he could pound her harder. Daemon looked down at his cock going in and out of her, it was slick wet, and the bedsheets underneath them were soaked. Although he was curious as to what was happening, it felt too good to stop and question it. 

It didn’t take long for Daemon to reach closer and closer to cumming. He panted and breathed heavily, and the woman’s face and throat flushed with redness. 

“Fucking whore,” groaned Daemon, his legs shook as he pounded harder. 

“Yes, yes,” panted the woman, “in me, my prince.” She grabbed Daemon’s neck, pulling him down onto her. She wrapped her legs tightly around his lower back and ass, keeping him within her. Daemon felt the pressure of her legs holding him down, but he had no desire to pull out. 

“Fuck,” he let out a moan, “fuck yes, Rhaenyra,” the woman was confused. Daemon buried his face into her chest, realizing what he had just said aloud. The woman ignored it, figuring it was probably his own wife from his past life in Westeros. She did not care. All she cared about was that she managed to get his seed out of him. Daemon tried to move, but she held him still. 

“Not yet, my prince,” she said with satisfaction. Daemon felt her cunt even tightening around his cock that still remained hard. It throbbed, and his cock began to throb as well. 

“Wh-what?” he was confused, feeling suddenly another burst of seed that he ejaculated, and he groaned, his mouth wide from the pleasure. 

“You know, my prince,” the woman spoke softly, “we’ve all called out the wrong names at some point.” she gently traced her fingers along Daemon’s shoulder, down his bicep, “besides, I never even gave you mine.” 

“Do you want me to know it?” asked Daemon, slowly lifting himself off of her, and out of her. He slumped beside her on the narrow bed in the corner of the room. They could hear the commotion of rowdiness and raunchiness still happening in the great rooms. She shrugged her shoulders, 

“It is unlikely we will ever see each other again. Most men wouldn’t give two shits to know my name after fucking.” 

“Well,” Daemon ran his fingers down the center of her chest, then feeling her breast, “it wasn’t just any fucking. It was a seeding ceremony-”

“Claiming Night,” corrected the silvery haired woman with a light chuckle. 

“Right…” smirked Daemon, “but… I do not wish to take any wife.”

“Nor do I wish to take any husband.” she quipped in response. 

“So, tell me then. Your name.” Daemon said confidently. 

“Daena.” she said. 

“Daena?” muttered Daemon. That name was Targaryen… well, at least it was very Valyrian. And with her near silver hair, he was beginning to think she had to be a bastard from his father or grandfather’s line. “Any family name?” he asked. 

“Nope.” she shook her head. “Just Daena.” Daemon nodded in understanding. He laid on his back beside Daena, looking up at the ceiling. He could hear the muffling moaning from people having sex in the next few rooms, women and men alike moaning like animals. 

“So this night is to conceive a babe, yet all of these women don’t want husbands?” asked Daemon curiously, “Is Lys just a city of bastards then?” 

“We do not look down upon children born out of wedlock here, like you do in Westeros.” Daena propped herself up on her side, looking down at Daemon. She began to caress his chest, “And the primary goal is to keep our city alive and flourishing.” 

“What a brute method of population control…” muttered Daemon pensively.

“I find it better than being forced into a loveless marriage.” she responded. Daemon was yet again surprised by her quickness and boldness. He smirked. “And something tells me you’ve had quite enough of those.” 

“It is… the way things are.” said the prince in a defeated tone. Daemon wasn’t too keen on getting into the history of his marriages. His forced marriage to Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone, and then Lady Laena Velaryon. Out of the two of them, Daemon actually liked Laena, he was attracted to her, even sired two daughters… he wondered how his daughters were doing. They probably resented him for fleeing Westeros, not even writing back to check in on them. 

“Hey,” Daena nudged Daemon, as he was getting lost in his own thoughts. “I mean no disrespect, my prince.” Daemon inhaled deeply and looked up at Daena. Her violet eyes glistened from the nearby candlelight, her hair seemed aglow. For a split second he saw Rhaenyra. 

“I’ve taken no offense.” he muttered in a quiet response, caressing her face. 

Daeron

The Red Keep

 Daeron woke up to the bright beam of sunlight slowly moving across the room to hit his face as the sun rose. He laid on his belly with his face turned towards the window, and he wrinkled his eyes as he realized the sun was on his face. He felt an unfamiliar stirring within his body, though. His senses were heightened, and he felt an urge awakening within him. 

He felt his cock swelling hard as it was pressed between his body and the mattress. He instinctively started to grind his hips, his eyes closing from grogginess. Daeron’s thoughts lingered on Helaena for a moment, his desire stirring within him. He quickly shook off the thought and stopped grinding his hips into the mattress, knowing it was inappropriate. 

“What the fuck…” he groaned to himself confused. Helaena was married, she was to be the Queen one day. He rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to distract himself from his strong desires. He looked down at his body, seeing his cock poking a tent up with the sheets. The heat within him continued to grow, and a small bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. 

He remembered the night while camping with the troops in Dorne at the Brimstone River, going into the grotto, feeling the natural geysers against his cock when he went for the nightly swim. His cock slowly throbbed, aching to be touched and stroked. 

Daeron rubbed his eyes and groaned with annoyance. Anger rose within him as he thought of Aemond and Jace. They abandoned Helaena for Dorne when they’re supposed to love her… and love her equally. The heat gnawed at his insides even more so. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted. He tore off the sheet and rolled back onto his front, beginning to furiously hump the bed. His cock slid back and forth against the sheet, and the friction made the young prince breath heavily, groaning quietly in pleasure. He closed his eyes as he humped. 

Images of Helaena’s face popped into his mind, remembering how closely he studied her while drawing her the other day. He leaned against his elbows in a planking position as he humped his bed, clenching his fists. Instead of wishing away those thoughts, he tapped into it. He imagined Helaena’s slender waist and thighs, feeling his own cock throb harder from the thought of touching her. 

“Fuck,” groaned Daeron, his long hair slinging in front of his forehead. He needed more stimulation, the humping wasn’t enough. He quickly turned onto his back and reached for his cock. He started jerking himself, and felt even more pleasure overcome his body. The heat in his body concentrated at his cock, at its base, as if he were about to burst. He flexed his muscles from the rising tension, his torso clenched, and his toes curled. 

He looked down at his cock as he stroked it hard, eventually shooting a load onto his belly and chest. The load shot even at his face and hit his pillow, and he gasped from the vast amount he ejaculated. 

“Fucking gods…” he grunted with a loud exhale, watching his cock soften. He marveled at the load all over his body. He had never felt that kind of release before… he could do it again. 

… 

After cleaning himself and getting dressed, the young prince made his way to the dining hall for breakfast. As he entered the dining hall, his gaze immediately fell upon Helaena that sat at the table alone, with a serene expression on her face. Helaena wore a simple yet elegant gown of fine silk, in shades of silver and lavender. Her hair was braided in a loose style, extenuating her long locks down her shoulders. The sight of her only intensified the heat within him. 

He made his way over to the table, sitting across from her with a mix of apprehension and determination. 

“Good morning, Helaena.” said Daeron, and Helaena looked up, smiling at him. As she raised her head, the sunlight from the nearby windows behind her streamed onto her, glinting off her silver-gold hair. The nearest handmaiden scurried off to the kitchen to fetch the prince his meal. 

“Good morrow,” said Helaena, “you’re up early.” her voice was velvety. Her gaze lingered on him, her pale eyes reflecting a hint of concern. 

“Oh, uh,” stammered Daeron, “just had a bit of a stomach ache… that’s what woke me up.” There wasn’t any way Daeron was going to reveal what really happened, waking up with the most intense and insane sexual urges he had ever experienced. 

“Oh,” Helaena said with some sadness, “perhaps the Grand Maester can make something for you.” Daeron nodded. The handmaiden brought out a plate of food for Daeron. It consisted of a simple yet hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and roasted potatoes. She then placed a piping hot cup of tea, bowing her head before she left the room. 

“So when will you be going back to Dorne?” asked Helaena. Daeron began to dig into his meal, and the princess was just finishing hers. 

“Well, we are waiting to hear when the army is withdrawn from Godsgrace, and then I’ll depart for Skyreach.” answered Daeron, stuffing his face with the eggs and potatoes. Helaena nodded, a flicker of disappointment flickered across her face. 

“I see,” she responded. Daeron looked up and saw her expression, but she quickly forced a smile, “it won’t be much longer until you’re back in action.” she forced some excitement in her voice. They looked at each other silently, and longingly. The look of longing in Helaena’s eyes mirrored the intense emotions Daeron was feeling inside, as he struggled to keep a rein on his mounting instincts, which were still raging through his body. He wanted to reach to her, touch her, wrap his arms around her. 

“I’ve been drawing again lately,” said Helaena, breaking the silence, with an airy voice. A smile crept across her face. Daeron’s interest perked up even more. 

“Oh yeah? What have you been drawing?” he set down his fork to focus on her entirely. 

“Oh just creatures and things, dragons and the like.” she said, pushing around the scraps of food on her mostly cleaned plate, “Usually things I see in my dreams. Sometimes far away lands, rolling hills of golden grass, vast deserts, icy cliffs and frozen waterfalls.” Daeron was captivated by her imaginative mind. 

The sight of Prince Aegon’s arrival to the dining room broke the intimate moment between Helaena and Daeron, and both of them turned their gazes towards him. Aegon noticed their intense eye contact with one another as soon as he entered, and a sly grin crept across his face. 

“Good morning, brother and sister.” he said, walking into the room. Helaena and Daeron both greeted Aegon with a nod of their heads, the princess’ expression remaining neutral, while Daeron felt a pang of annoyance at his brother’s interruption. Aegon sat down next to Helaena, across from Daeron. As soon as Aegon sat, Helaena placed her napkin cloth on the table from her lap and got up. 

“Oh, finished already?” asked Aegon, watching his sister walk around the table. Helaena walked behind Daeron, rustling his hair as she walked by,

“Aye. Be good, Aegon.” she said, and soon was out the door. Daeron’s annoyance with Aegon only grew as Aegon spoke, but the brush of Helaena’s hand interrupted it. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, and he couldn’t help but watch her leave. 

Aegon chuckled softly, his eyes following Helaena’s exit, and how Daeron watched her. He sniffed the air, 

“What’s that smell?” he asked. Daeron stiffened slightly upon hearing Aegon’s question. He had been aware of the hormonal urges coursing through his body all morning. Was he possibly already sweating through his shirt? Daeron lifted his arms slightly, his armpits felt dry. 

“Maybe you didn’t bathe long enough.” said Daeron in a stern tease to his older brother, and he continued to eat his meal. Aegon let out a snicker and shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his fingers on the table as he waited for the handmaiden to bring him his breakfast. He took Daeron’s comment as a joke, but continued to cast glances at him, trying to figure him out. 

“I know what it is.” said Aegon with a smirk. 

“What?” Daeron asked in a grave, nervous voice. 

“There’s a time in every boy’s life when he finally becomes a man,” said Aegon, “his body changes entirely… especially when they’re ready to… you know.” Daeron blushed slightly, trying to play off his brother’s words with a scoff. But the heat within him… the rut… intensified. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed now for Aegon had caught onto his condition. 

“Shut up, Aegon,” sighed Daeron as he shook his head. 

“I mean it.” insisted Aegon, “When they’re ready to fuck.” Daeron clanged his fork against his plate upon Aegon’s crude word choice. Aegon was amused by Daeron’s uncomfortableness, and chuckled quietly. The handmaiden soon came in and brought Aegon a plate of food as well. 

Daeron could feel Aegon’s eyes on him, and it only added to his sense of discomfort. He tried to focus on his meal, pushing the food around on his plate, but his thoughts were consumed by the desire coursing through his veins. He wanted to leave the dining hall and find some solitude. 

“Did you ever… court any girls back in Oldtown?” asked Aegon. Daeron looked up, and shook his head. He was surprised Aegon didn’t go back to his raunchy behavior. 

“No,” Daeron mustered a response, “I focused on my studies, and learning how to fly.” 

“Well… now you’ve finished your studies and you’re an expert dragon-rider.” said Aegon, “You should find some… practice before you’re married off.” Daeron couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh, but he didn’t want Aegon to get that satisfaction. There was a hint of bitterness in his breath, 

“I suppose you racked up on your knowledge before you got married.” 

“Of course I did.” said Aegon, his voice light with pride, “It’s not as simple as you think.” Daeron was unimpressed by his brother’s bragging. He gave his brother a deadpan stare, 

“I’m well aware of that. But knowing you, it took an arranged marriage for someone to fall for you.” Aegon stopped chewing and looked up at his younger brother. Daeron chuckled. 

“Very funny…” said Aegon, slowly resuming his chewing of his food. Daeron was satisfied that he struck his brother’s nerve with his barbed remark. He was finding himself far more confident… perhaps it was his ‘condition’ that continued to churn and burn in his body. 

“Well, that Meira girl was a pretty thing. It’s a shame her father pulled the proposal.” added Aegon. 

“Fuck the Crakehalls.” snapped Daeron, finishing up the last bits of eggs on his plate, “And she was too young for me, a literal child.” Aegon chuckled at Daeron’s little outburst, finding his frustration amusing. 

“Then here’s to finding the perfect wife.” Aegon raised his cup. 

Rhaenyra

The Great Hall

The Queen sat silently on the Iron Throne as she watched the Chamber of Lords conduct its session in the Great Hall. Below at the foot of the throne sat Princess Rhaenys in her own seat and Lady Elayne in hers. The one hundred eighteen member-body of representatives were seated in rows along the length of the Great Hall, with each side facing one another. Construction had officially begun on the new building that would house the Chamber of Lords, and until it was ready, they would continue to use the Great Hall. Towards the front of the Hall were two wooden, ornately carved, podiums, where two members were engaged in a heated debate. 

Rhaenyra watched and listened intently from the Iron Throne, taking in the words and counter-arguments being spouted between the two sides. Rhaenys sat with a stoic expression, one that was also unreadable. The two women were not allowed to engage in the affairs of the Chamber of Lords, according to the Royal Charter. They were mere observers. 

Standing at the podium on the right side of the Hall was Lord Roger Bolton, the leading representative of the North. Standing across from him at the other podium, Lady Jacinta Marbrand, the leading representative of the Westerlands. 

“The Wall is not a mere visual marvel, my dear Lady,” Roger Bolton spoke with a stern and deep voice, “it has protected the Realm for thousands of years. Year after year, the North commits hundreds of men to the Night’s Watch. Our demands are feasible.” Roger Bolton was an imposing figure, he stood tall, his broad shoulders and muscular chest gave him an intimidating presence. He wore a long fur cloak and leathers, accentuating his strength and ruggedness. His face was square and hard, with sharp features and deep-set eyes. He wore his long dark hair in a tight bun at the nape of his neck, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his stony face. 

“My dear Lord Bolton,” Jacinta let out a huff of frustration with the Northern lord, but she composed herself before fully responding, “nobody disputes the importance of the Wall and the Night’s Watch. With that said, the Westerlands, Vale, and Reach are fully prepared to commit to sending twenty men every five years to Castle Black, twenty crates of food, ten crates of clothing, and five crates of weapons every year. Does this seem insufficient to you?” 

“Yes, the West never fails to remind us of your abundance of goods.” scoffed Lord Bolton, “Do you know how many wildlings are gathering beyond the Wall? We need more men, more supplies, more support than just a fraction of what we’ve been promised!” Jacinta stood with a raised eyebrow, watching the northern lord continue his outburst, “Let us not forget it was the North who secured the completion of this very Chamber. We are owed our due diligence.” Jacinta chuckled to herself, as did many of her colleagues seated behind her. With a smile still on her face, Jacinta looked over at Lady Elayne seated near Rhaenys. Elayne had a stern face, signaling she wanted Jacinta to back down. 

Jacinta took a deep breath and faced Lord Bolton once again, her smile fading, 

“Fifteen crates of weapons every year.” she offered. Lord Bolton was surprised she was already giving in, and he stammered. “Fifteen crates of weapons, twenty crates of food, ten crates of clothing. What do you say?” 

Bolton looked over his shoulder to the rest of his Northern delegation, which was only five more men. They all nodded and shrugged silently, willing to accept the offer. Bolton faced forward, and looked at Jacinta. 

“We will accept.” 

“Then I make a motion to proceed with a vote on the Northern Military Assistance Package.” Jacinta looked down the Hall, to Lady Elayne at the base of the dais. Elayne stood up and straightened her gown, walking a few steps forward to address the Chamber. A pair of attendants rushed in from the side of the Hall, one of them brought a small desk, and the other carried a long parchment paper with an ink and quill. One of the attendants sat down, he was the Chamber Clerk, who would record the votes. The long parchment paper listed all of the members alphabetically, and two boxes beside each name: one box “For” and one box “Against”. 

“Honorable members of the Chamber,” Lady Elayne announced, her voice clear and steady, “It is time for us to vote on the Northern Military Assistance Package.” 

The Chamber Clerk, seated at a small desk beside Lady Elayne Tyrell, began to call out the names of the members in alphabetical order, their voices echoing through the Great Hall like a rolling wave. 

“Ashemark, Benedict of the Reach.” called the clerk. 

“Aye.” 

… 

“Bar Emmon, Marianne of the Crownlands.” 

“Aye.” 

…

“Broom, Gawen of the Westerlands.” 

“Aye.” 

…

“Lannister, Stafford of the Westerlands.”

“Aye.”

“Lannister, Lyonel.” 

“Aye.”

“Lannister, Lucion.”

“Aye.” 

Most of the members of the Chamber were simply nobles and relatives of nobles that ruled over the hundreds of castles across the Seven Kingdoms. Oftentimes, like in the Westerlands, the Great House appointed their own relatives to their largest cities and castles to fill its seats in the Chamber. 

“Frey, Forrest of the Riverlands.” continued the Clerk. 

“Aye.” Lord Forrest voted in favor, reluctantly. 

The Queen was beginning to get bored, listening as the names went on and on and on. They were approaching the halfway point.

“Greywhale, Balon of the Iron Islands.” 

“Nay.” 

“Hayford, Shera of the Crownlands.” 

“Aye.” 

“Hightower, Otto of the Reach.” called the Chamber Clerk. Rhaenyra’s eyes and ears perked, she sat up straight. Her heart skipped a beat and she scanned her eyes across the crowd of members. Rising from his seat… she saw him. Ser Otto Hightower, standing to cast his vote. 

“Aye.” answered Ser Otto. Otto looked at Lady Elayne… and then looked at Rhaenyra. The stare felt like it lasted an eternity. 

…

Rhaenyra’s footsteps echoed through the Red Keep as she stormed through the corridors, her anger and frustration evident in the hard set of her lips and rigidness of her back. Ser Harrold Westerling followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with the Queen’s fast pace, as she made her way determinedly to Alicent’s quarters. 

Alicent looked startled as the door to her apartment burst open, Rhaenyra stood there, panting heavily. Helaena and Baela were also in the room, looking up with surprise, their knitting and embroidering momentarily forgotten. Alicent quickly set her knitting aside and stood up with concern, 

“Rhaenyra, what’s wrong?” she asked worriedly. 

“Your father. He’s here. Did you know that?” she said, walking further into the room, to join the ladies at the sitting area. 

“What? No. He’s here?” asked Alicent, dumbfounded. Alicent’s mouth hung slightly open in surprise and confusion. Helaena and Baela looked at Rhaenyra, equally baffled. Rhaenyra nodded, finally catching her breath. 

“Yes. He’s here, he’s a member of the Chamber, voting on this Northern assistance for the Wall.” she said, putting her hands on her hips. 

“I knew nothing about this, Rhaenyra, believe me-”

“Alicent, I know.” Rhaenyra reassured her old friend. Rhaenyra sat down on the couch beside Helaena, facing Alicent and Baela. 

“He said nothing to me, he hasn’t written to me in weeks.” began Alicent, sitting down slowly as she thought about this unexpected turn of events. She hadn’t seen her father in about a year now, since Rhaenyra’s wedding to Aegon. “The last thing he spoke about was pleading with me to return to Oldtown.”

“Well, how ironic.” said Rhaenyra annoyedly.

“Do you think the Tyrells appointed him for Oldtown, or my uncle Hubert?” asked Alicent. 

“I do not think it matters, your uncle would not take the position and do all this traveling to and from Oldtown.” Rhaenyra eyed Alicent, “But your father… your father would. Because he had before.” 

Alicent sighed and her shoulders slumped as she considered Rhaenyra’s words. It was true, her father did have a tendency to go behind everyone’s backs for his own interest. He had served as Hand to Viserys, so he was already used to all the traveling. 

“You’re right,” admitted Alicent, “He has always been ambitious, and he never hesitated to take an opportunity if it suited him. I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell me…”

“And that is my concern,” said Rhaenyra, “that Otto is here for an opportunity. You know your father and I have always had a complicated history, Alicent-”

“I know, you need not explain this to me again.” said Alicent reassuringly. She was well aware of how her father always subverted Viserys, plotted behind his back, and often skirted away from blatantly denouncing Rhaenyra as heir when she was just a princess. 

“Will you have him removed?” asked Alicent, “Send him back to Oldtown and replaced?” 

“No. I do not think that would bode well with the rest of the Chamber,” sighed Rhaenyra, “I do not want to set a bad precedent. This government is meant to empower the voices of the Houses and people, my removing him from his seat would be… nothing short of hypocritical.” Alicent looked at Rhaenyra, surprised by her response. She expected Rhaenyra to be more direct and forceful, to exercise her full powers as Queen, but clearly, she was taking a more rational, diplomatic approach. 

“I understand,” nodded Alicent, “I pray that he does not stir up trouble.” 

“He will.” Rhaenyra eyed Alicent worriedly, “He will.”  

Aemond & Jacaerys

The Scourge River, Dorne

The roars of Vermithor and Vhagar echoed loudly and deeply as they approached the encampment of Tyrell soldiers just along the Scourge River. Massive black shadows passed over the camp, frightening many of the soldiers as two of the world’s largest dragons flew overhead. Some of the soldiers clutched their weapons tightly, filled with apprehension at the sight of the gigantic winged creatures, and some stood motionless, their eyes wide with awe and wonder. 

Aemond rode on Vhagar’s back, his stern face showed no emotions. Next to him, Jace sat on Vermithor’s back, his eyes scanning the vast expanse of the camp below. There had to be over eight thousand men present. Preparations for the siege on Godsgrace were nearly complete. Many garrisons were already beginning to deploy, marching and trotting on their horses eastward along the river, towards Godsgrace. 

The two princes were escorted through the camp, past tents and soldiers, the air thick with the smell of sweat, smoke, and burning wood. It also didn’t help that the sun beat down hot rays, Jace prayed he’d never return to Dorne unless it was winter. The sound of shuffling and murmuring surrounded them, the soldiers and squires all eyeing them with curiosity, and a touch of fear. 

They soon reached the tent of Lord Commander Derryn Redwyne, a large pavilion with a banner hanging outside, bearing the sigils of House Tyrell and Targaryen. They were ushered inside, where Redwyne stood waiting for them, standing in front of a large war table covered in maps and diagrams. 

There were a few other high ranking knights with Redwyne, including Ser Gwayne Hightower. Gwayne greeted his nephew, Aemond, and the silver haired prince responded coldly yet politely. He felt indifferent to his uncle Gwayne. 

“Prince Aemond, it is good to see you,” said Gwayne with a king smile, “And you, Prince Jacaerys.” he looked at the brown haired prince that stood beside Aemond. Jace smiled and nodded his head. “I must say,” continued Gwayne, “your brother has done remarkably well in this war. It seems he is quite the warrior.” he spoke of Daeron, since he was involved at the onset of the war. Aemond responded with a polite nod and small small, but his expression was still cold and relatively aloof. 

“Prince Aemond, Prince Jacaerys, it is a pleasure to see you both.” said Redwyne, standing at the other side of the large table, “Shall we begin?” Aemond and Jace stood side by side at the opposite end of the table. Aemond rested his hands on the table, 

“Yes. Let us begin.” 

“I am sure you may be familiar,” began Redwyne, “Godsgrace sits on a high rocky hill where the Scourge and Vaith Rivers meet, forming the Greenblood River. Our Lannister forces have already begun to make camp on the eastern side of the castle, coming from Lemonwood and Planky Town. We will approach from the west.” Redwyne pointed to the two sides of the castle marker on the map. There was a small lion figurine symbolizing the Lannister army that was already outside Godsgrace. 

“Have you been planning to lay siege to the castle?” asked Jacaerys. 

“Well, yes. But I was told that the Queen would be sending a change of orders.” responded Redwyne. 

“Correct. We have direct orders from the Queen to destroy the castle with our dragons.” said Jacaerys confidently. Redwyne frowned, his brow furrowing at Jacaerys’ words. 

“Destroy the castle?” he asked, glancing over at Gwayne, “I must not fail to point out the strategic value of obtaining this castle, one of the largest in Dorne.”

“Is there a problem with what the Crown Prince just told you?” snapped Aemond, he was expecting Redwyne to follow the orders without question. Redwyne cleared his throat, clearly taken aback by Aemond’s tone. Jace could tell that Redwyne meant no disrespect, and was feeling uncomfortable now. He glanced at the other high ranking knights, all of whom were watching the interaction intently. 

“No, no, of course not.” said Redwyne, “We will follow the Queen’s orders as commanded. But… the castle is a large and sturdy structure. It will take several rounds of fire-breaths to destroy it completely.” 

“Leave that to us, Lord Commander,” said Aemond in a hiss, “we did not bring dragonlings like that of my younger brother.” 

“Very well,” Redwyne lowered his eyes for a moment, feeling Aemond’s stare, “Our men have already begun to move out. It would be best if the princes would meet them there at sunset, and depart in a few hours.” 

“We will be there.” said Jace in a calm demeanor.

…

As soon as the meeting ended, Aemond was quick to storm out of the tent, being followed by his husband. The princes were shown to their own private tent for the time being, and Aemond was silent on the walk there. Upon entering the tent, Jace eyed Aemond, 

“Aemond… what’s wrong? Why are you upset?” he asked innocently. Aemond didn’t respond at first, his face a mask of controlled anger. He paced back and forth in their tent, a hand running through his long hair as he fumed. Jace could see the tensions in his shoulders and the set of his jaw. 

“Redwyne. That pompous idiot. Questioning your orders.” he said in a scolding voice. 

“He didn’t question me…” said Jace softly, trying to calm Aemond. 

“He did. And it was in his eyes, too.” Aemond said, turning to face Jacaerys. They could hear some chatter of men outside the tent, moving about. Jace sighed, realizing Aemond was clearly still upset. Jace approached Aemond, putting his hand on Aemond’s chest. He could feel Aemond’s heart beating fast. 

“Just breathe… look at me.” Jace looked up with wide eyes, and Aemond looked down with his single blue eye. There was some silence between the two, before Aemond spoke up in a low tone. 

“Are you feeling better?” referring to Jace’s condition of being in heat. In truth, Jace hadn’t felt the severe cramps or urges ever since they departed King’s Landing. And that was a relief. 

“Y-yes, I’m feeling better.” said Jace nervously, “The pain is surely gone.” He could finally focus on what was important: the mission, and not be distracted by his own body’s needs. Aemond turned Jace around and embraced him from behind. Aemond nuzzled his lips in the crook of Jace’s neck, nuzzling his nose through his hair, and kissing his neck. He held his hands around Jace’s lower abdomen, rubbing his belly softly. 

Jace felt a wave of comforting warmth wash over him and he closed his eyes. He held his own hands over Aemond’s, as he kept them at his lower belly. 

“That feels good.” whispered Jace with a crack of a smile. Aemond swayed him side to side slightly, holding his husband tighter. 

“I can’t wait to burn down that castle with you, together, a true Targaryen couple.” said Aemond with a light chuckle, he was giddy. Jace chuckled warmly, matching Aemond’s excitement. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, catching Aemond’s eye. 

“It’ll be a song long sung in the histories.” Jace’s eyes were wide, filled with innocence. 

“Our names will go down in the history of Westeros, never forgotten, remembered as the princes who won the war - the princes who won Dorne.” Aemond hummed with pleasure, nuzzling his face deeper into Jace’s neck. Jace turned around, standing face to face with Aemond, still in his arms. 

“I’m getting that feeling again,” said Jace with a smirk. Aemond could feel the heat radiating from Jace’s body, their bulges pressing against one another. Aemond could start to smell the sweet scent again from Jace, as if it just appeared. Aemond started to smile. He tightened his grip around Jace’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“Is that so?” he growled seductively. Jace nodded. “And if they hear us?” 

“Fuck them. Let them listen.” said Jace with rising arousal. Aemond pressed his lips onto Jace’s, kissing him furiously. Jace cupped Aemond’s face as they kissed, locked in a push and pull between them. They kissed their way over to the small narrow bed on one side of the tent. Aemond was already tearing off Jace’s clothes, stripping his chest bare, and soon his pants. He threw Jace onto the bed, and he only had his underwear on at this point. Aemond took off his shirt, revealing his sculpted torso, and then took off his pants and underwear in a rush. Jace watched with admiration and adoration as his husband stripped. 

Aemond’s cock slung into an erection upon taking off his underwear. He reached down to Jace’s hips, pulling off his underwear furiously. Aemond kept Jace at the edge of the bed and stood over him. He spread Jace’s legs and started rubbing his cock on Jace’s hole. It was slick and warm, like before. 

“I like this…” noted Aemond in a low hum. 

“Seems to be happening just for you,” teased Jace. Aemond couldn’t wait any longer, his cock was throbbing and dripping with precum. He slid his cock inside of Jace, immediately opening him up with ease. Jace moaned, closing his eyes for a moment. Aemond waited, letting Jace get acclimated again to his thick cock. Aemond then leaned down over Jace’s body, kissing his chest and down his belly. He started to thrust slowly, much to Jace’s pleasure-filled groans. 

“Yes, Aemond,” groaned Jace, his fingers digging into the bed sheets and clenching them. “Harder, please,” he demanded in a whimper. Aemond didn’t hesitate and started to thrust faster. He got onto the bed, shifting Jace back slightly to be entirely over him. Jace moaned loudly, feeling Aemond’s cock go in him deeper as he got on the bed, closer to him. 

Jace cupped Aemond’s face, the two stared into each other’s eyes. Jace slowly took of Aemond’s eye patch, caressing his scar, just how he liked it. Aemond closed his eye and let out a satisfied groan. He softened his thrusting. 

“Why’d you slow down?” asked Jace. 

“I want to enjoy this…” he said, looking down at Jace’s body, and then at his own cock. He laid his torso down on Jace, taking slow and sensual thrusts into Jace’s hole. Jace smiled and gasped from the change in angle from Aemond’s cock. Jace wrapped his arms around Aemond’s back, holding him down tightly. 

“That feels good,” he whispered in Aemond’s ear. 

“Good.” growled Aemond, “That hole is mine, you’re mine.” he started to kiss Jace’s neck, biting him gently. After a few kisses, Jace gestured for Aemond to roll over. Aemond did so quickly, and Jace sat on top. He put Aemond’s cock back in his hole, lowering himself slowly and carefully. Aemond held his hands at Jace’s waist, helping him onto his cock gently. 

Jace moaned from feeling his long cock penetrate him once again, and he began to ride passionately. Jace held his hands on Aemond’s chest as he bounced, arching his back, and throwing his head back. Aemond ran his hands across Jace’s chest, twisting and rubbing his hardened nipples. He couldn’t stay in that position for too long, Aemond felt the need to hold all of Jace in his arms. 

Aemond sat up, clasping his hands behind Jace’s back. Jace settled deeper into Aemond’s lap, his cock going in deeper. Jace clung onto Aemond, moaning as he continued to ride him. 

“Fuck, yes, Aemond,” moaned Jace. 

“Ride that cock,” grunted Aemond through his clenching teeth, “good boy.” 

“Oh, Aemond, yes, gods!” exclaimed Jace, his forehead beading with sweat. Aemond smirked, he knew Jace was close. 

“Don’t stop, keep going,” murmured Aemond as he lathered Jace’s neck with wet kisses. 

“Fuck,” Jace closed his eyes, squeezing his arms around Aemond’s back. He couldn’t keep going. Aemond looked down, seeing Jace cum all over the two of them, and he smiled. Aemond then moved Jace’s body himself, bouncing him on his cock. Aemond grunted as he reached orgasm. Jace let out another moan as Aemond ejaculated inside, grunting loudly, grabbing Jace’s waist and body firmly in his arms. 

“Oh gods, yes,” Jace let out a loud exhale, feeling Aemond’s cock throb slowly inside his hole. He opened his eyes and looked down at Aemond. They nuzzled their noses against each other, and Aemond began to smirk. Their moment of intimate bliss was interrupted as they both heard the sound of shuffling, loudly speaking, men and soldiers outside their tent. They both glanced at the tent’s closed entrance. Jace then looked back at Aemond, running his hands through Aemond’s long hair. 

“We should get ready,” he said softly. Aemond rested his head on Jace’s chest, 

“As you command, my prince.” 

…

The two princes rode their dragons flying high above the Tyrell host below. They could see the vast expanse of soldiers, stretching out as far as they could see, marching along the Scourge River, to Godsgrace. The sky was clear and the moon shone brightly overhead, casting a pale glow on the sandy land below. Aemond looked down at the soldiers, his eyes taking in the size and force of the army. Finally, he thought, this war was entering its last chapter. 

“Aemond!” called out Jace, who was far ahead. Aemond looked forward, he could see Jace’s worried look on his face. The two dragons began to fly low, approaching a steep hill. Godsgrace was on the horizon, where two rivers met and became one. However, that wasn’t what Jace was pointing at. Aemond could now see, the Lannister army had engaged the enemy outside the castle walls… but they weren’t fighting Dornishmen. 

Walls of flames sliced through the fleeing Lannister men, desperately seeking shelter among rock formations. A slender red dragon cut through the air quickly, blasting streams of flames on the Lannister forces. 

Aemond’s heart tightened in his chest as he saw the sight before him. The Lannister men were being slaughtered… by Prince Daemon and his dragon, Caraxes. Caraxes laid waste to the Lannister forces. 

“No…” he muttered under his breath angrily. 

“Daor, Vermithor!” ordered Jace as the winds picked up. Vermithor roared angrily out into the night sky, at Caraxes, but followed his rider’s commands. The Bronze Fury heaved and banked to the left, circling back. Jace looked over his shoulder, “Aemond! No! Retreat!” he pleaded. 

Aemond ignored Jace’s pleas, his focus on the chaos up ahead. The anger in his heart grew, consuming his every thought. He tightened his grip on Vhagar’s reins, feeling the power of the dragon beneath him. 

“Faster, Vhagar, faster!” Aemond shouted over the sound of the intense winds in his ears. Vhagar picked up speed. The green elder dragon let out a blasting roar, bellowing into the night, nearly straining due to her old age, but she did not let that hinder her ferocity. Caraxes let out a shrill screech as he detected Vhagar’s approach. He turned towards the larger dragon, flying around the high towers of Godsgrace gracefully and serpent-like. 

Vhagar closed in on Caraxes, her massive wings thundering in the night as she flew. Aemond could see the glowing gold eyes of Caraxes. 

Chapter Text

Aemond

Godsgrace, Dorne

Aemond leaned low on Vhagar’s saddle as he commanded the great creature to fly directly at Caraxes and Daemon up ahead. Aemond clenched his jaw, his hands squeezing the handles of his saddle with rage. Even Vhagar bellowed angrily at the smaller, slender dragon. Caraxes let out a high-pitched screech as Vhagar closed in, the sound piercing the night air. 

As the two dragons neared one another on a collision course, Vhagar reared upward, exposing her massive clawed feet to snatch at Caraxes. The slender red dragon weaved and just barely escaped being grabbed at the neck by Vhagar. Caraxes spiraled downward towards the sandy dunes, and Aemond swore loudly as Vhagar missed. The younger Targaryen prince looked over his shoulder, heaving at Vhagar’s reins to turn her around. 

Daemon let out a laugh, looking over his shoulder at Aemond and Vhagar slowly turning around. Caraxes began to climb back into the air. Daemon looked down at the ground, the Lannister forces were maintaining their position, waiting. Many of them were trying to carry the wounded away from the massive fires that he laid down earlier. 

Daemon faced forward just as Caraxes let out a startled screech, jerking Daemon around. Daemon’s eyes widened as he saw the large, bronze form of Vermithor approaching in the night sky. Prince Jacaerys, riding on his back, had a stern look of determination and anger as he urged Vermithor forward. Daemon was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the Bronze Fury, and taken aback that his new rider was Rhaenyra’s eldest son. 

Vermithor extended his massive jaws, firing a blast of dragonflame into the air, at Caraxes and Daemon. Caraxes dove towards the ground, and Daemon was singed by the flames. He felt the intense heat against his helmeted head, his armored shoulders, and his hands on his saddle. Daemon gritted his teeth as he felt the intense heat licking at his armor and scorching his skin slightly. 

He looked around, and Vhagar was making a quick approach once again. He realized he could not fight against the two massive creatures alone. Daemon’s eyes flicked between Vhagar and Vermithor, their massive forms closing in on him from the east and the west. He was outnumbered, outmatched, and disadvantaged. 

Daemon could hear the low rumble of Vhagar’s approach, he knew he had to make a decision, fast. If he were to escape, he needed to flee east, back towards the Stepstones, and out of Dorne. 

Aemond urged Vhagar on with all her might, but the old dragon was clearly straining. Even with Aemond’s commands, Vhagar was struggling to keep up with Caraxes’ fleeting movements. Aemond’s heart sank as he saw Daemon turn and begin flying east. Aemond swore loudly once again into the night, watching Caraxes whisk away into the clouds. Vhagar bellowed deeply. 

“Daor, Vhagar! Donbas…” Vhagar slowed and turned around, slowly banking to her right, going back to the castle. Aemond saw Jace and Vermithor not too far behind. He felt a weight lifted off his shoulders seeing that Jace was alright and safe. Aemond took a deep breath and patted Vhagar’s neck, praising her. However, their mission was not over yet. 

“Embrot, Vhagar, embrot.” commanded Aemond, and Vhagar began to glide downward towards the castle of Godsgrace. Its windows were lit with small candles, there were Dornishmen standing guard on the castle walls… watching in horror as the largest dragon in the world descended upon them. 

“Dracarys!” bellowed Aemond. Vhagar leveled out and opened her jaws upon reaching the castle. A stream of fire burst forth from her mouth, raining down upon the castle and its defenders. The blast tore a hole through the castle’s outer wall, slicing through the inner courtyard, tearing through the stables and small shacks, and striking the main keep. Vhagar climbed back into the sky. And just as she ascended, Jacaerys descended with Vermithor from the opposite direction. 

Vermithor and Jace flew in from the opposite direction, unleashing a devastating firestorm onto the castle. The walls were consumed with flames, towers crumbling under the force of the dragon’s fire. The main keep took a beating as well, its walls being blasted through by Vermithor’s might. 

The castle of Godsgrace was no match for the combined might of Vhagar and Vermithor. The two dragons worked in a coordinated pattern, taking turns unleashing their flames upon the castle’s defenses. The stones and walls crumbled and melted under the intense heat of the dragonfire, turning the once-mighty bastion into a pile of scorched rubble. 

The combined armies of the Lannisters and Tyrells watched in awe as the castle burned. The night sky glowed with a bright, fiery light, casting a glow on the nearby river and the surrounding desert. The thousands of men stood in silence, watching as the castle that had stood for centuries was reduced to a smoldering ruin. The smell of smoke and charred stone filled the air, a testament to the devastation wrought by the dragons. 

Lord Commander Derryn Redwyne stood on a high dune, watching the devastation. He stood with his eyes wide. He always had respect for House Targaryen and their dragons… but the sight of a dragon laying waste - two dragons, no less - was a stark reminder of just how small the ordinary man was compared to the royal family. 

“Seven hells…” muttered Redwyne to himself. He glanced up at the dragon-riders… the married couple of Prince Jacaerys and Prince Aemond. His thoughts turned to what the men of Westeros thought of their marriage. Redwyne knew that many had secretly voiced their disapproval, but he could not deny the power and authority the two princes possessed. One that could not, and should not, be challenged. 

Aegon & Rhaenyra

The Red Keep

Aegon reclined in bed as he watched Rhaenyra changing out of her formal clothing and jewelry in their bedroom. He laid naked with his arms behind his head and his legs crossed. He could see the tension and worry in Rhaenyra’s features as she undressed, her fingers nimble as she unfastened her silver belt and let her gown fall to the floor. Rhaenyra let out a huff as she stepped out of the gown, her bare feet padding across the cold floor. She reached into one of her wardrobes, picking out a nightgown. 

“I don’t like it. Otto shouldn’t be here.” said Rhaenyra, venting her anxious thoughts to her husband, “And I am worried about Jace and Aemond in Dorne.” Aegon listened with a contemplative look on his face, 

“Otto has no real power anymore,” insisted Aegon, trying to alleviate his wife’s stress, “and remember, you are the Queen. You have the final say in everything. You are in control.” Rhaenyra turned to look at Aegon. She stood at the end of the bed, tying a thin cloth belt around her waist to close her nightgown. 

“He may not have power, but he has his words. That can be far-reaching.” she said, raising her brows. She grabbed a small tub of lotion and sat on the edge of the bed, beginning to rub it into her bare legs. 

“If you feel threatened, then cultivate your allies in the Chamber of Lords.” suggested Aegon, “Fortify your support in case Otto becomes a threat.” Rhaenyra sits up straight, listening to Aegon’s suggestion. It was a good idea, a brilliant one. She nodded at Aegon’s suggestion, grateful for his insight. 

Aegon crawled across the bed, coming to sit behind Rhaenyra. His strong hands found her shoulders, and he began to massage the tension out of her muscles. His fingers dug into the knots in her back, causing Rhaenyra to release a soft sigh at the sensation. As Aegon continued to massage her, he pulled at the loose collar of her nightgown, the fabric giving way to reveal more of her skin. Rhaenyra chuckled softly to herself, realizing what Aegon was doing. 

“What?” whispered Aegon, lowering his lips to kiss the back of Rhaenyra’s neck, pushing aside her long braid of hair. 

“I know what you’re doing.” she said lightheartedly. Aegon continued to kiss her slowly. 

“Well, I know how to make you feel better.” he responded in between the deep and long kisses down her back. He tried pulling down her gown further to see the rest of her back, but she turned and stopped him. Rhaenyra caressed Aegon’s face, 

“I’m tired, love. Maybe another night.” Aegon sat back, then crawled back to the pillows at the other end of the bed. 

“Fine, as you wish,” he said, respecting her boundaries. Rhaenyra was now three months pregnant, the fatigue was becoming more common now after her long days of governance - shifting priorities between the Small Council, the Chamber of Lords, and court. Rhaenyra got up and walked over to the side of the bed, bringing over the small tub of lotion. She laid down beside Aegon, and used two fingers to scoop some of the white, warm, lotion in her hand. 

Aegon eyed her with skepticism. 

“My skin is not that dry,” he said. Rhaenyra chuckled, 

“Quiet.” she said. She closed her hand with the lotion to spread it among the palm of her hand and her fingers. She then reached for Aegon’s cock and wrapped her fingers around it. Aegon watched with wide eyes, his mouth opening as he gasped softly. She started to pull on his cock, stroking him slowly, lubricating him with the gentle lotion. 

Aegon’s cock swelled into an erection in seconds, and he let out a louder gasp. 

“Fuck, that actually feels good.” he said with some surprise. Rhaenyra smiled, leaning over to Aegon’s face to kiss him. Aegon spread his legs slightly. She stroked from the very base of his dick up to the tip, squeezing as she stroked back downward to his swollen balls. 

“I need to cum so bad,” groaned Aegon, closing his eyes. 

“Oh I know,” whispered Rhaenyra. Aegon flexed his cock in her hands, and she started to stroke faster. Aegon began to move his hips instinctively, rolling them subtly, imagining that Rhaenyra was riding him. She started to twist her hand slightly as she jerked him, and Aegon gasped softly. “Better?” she asked quietly. 

“Y-yes, much better.” stammered Aegon in a low growl, “Fuck…” Rhaenyra smirked with pride as she continued. “Faster,” insisted Aegon. Rhaenyra then jerked him faster and harder, his cock throbbing harder now. 

“Fuck,” Aegon groaned louder, “fuck that cock,” he looked down, feeling himself getting closer and closer to cumming. It had been days since he last came, and he could feel the pressure mounting in his balls and rising through his cock. Rhaenyra eyed Aegon’s face of ecstasy, eager to see him burst. Aegon’s face reddened and his jaw dropped, 

“Fuck yes,” he moaned, shooting multiple streams of cum onto his chest. Rhaenyra smiled and continued to stroke, getting another load out of him. Aegon’s body twitched and Rhaenyra slowed to a stop. Aegon opened his eyes and looked at her, “That was good…” he said. 

“Better than being inside me?” teased Rhaenyra, reaching for a small towel at the nightstand to wipe her hands. 

“Oh nowhere near it.” grinned Aegon, “It’s all I thought of.” Rhaenyra then started to wipe the cum off of Aegon’s chest. She wiped slowly, starting from the grooves of his loosely formed abs, to his firm chest. Aegon watched her with loving eyes, realizing how fortunate he was to have her. Rhaenyra balled up the towel and tossed it into a basket of dirty laundry in the corner of the room for the handmaidens to take in the morning. 

Rhaenyra laid back down in bed, resting her head and hand on Aegon’s bare chest. Aegon’s arm instinctively wrapped around her waist as she nestled into his chest. He could feel the weight of her head against his bare skin, the warmth of her body against his own. They laid in silence for a moment, Aegon’s fingers idly tracing small patterns across Rhaenyra’s back. 

“How is the babe?” asked Aegon, referring to their unborn child. Rhaenyra had a small smile on her lips at the mention of their unborn child, and placed a hand on her slightly swollen stomach, feeling the gentle bump. 

“It’s doing well. I can feel it moving more now, very subtle.” she said, her voice filled with warmth and affection, “The pressure is becoming a bit uncomfortable at times, but it’s nothing too bad.” 

“You’re doing very well. You’re almost halfway there.” Aegon said as he continued to caress Rhaenyra’s back with his light fingers. Rhaenyra’s smile began to disappear as her thoughts wandered to her mother, Aemma. 

“I sometimes think of my mother,” she said solemnly, “the numerous pregnancies she had… and how all of them went terribly… save for me. Yet somehow, I’ve faced good fortune. Each time, I wonder if that will be the pregnancy where I share the same fate as my mother.” she gulped anxiously. 

“I know,” muttered Aegon quietly. Aegon never knew Queen Aemma, he wasn’t even born until after she passed away, after their father remarried to Alicent. He had only heard very brief and vague stories. Their father never talked much about Aemma, and if he did, it was usually around the company of Rhaenyra. And when Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone… the stories of Queen Aemma left with her. 

“It is a burden to carry,” continued Aegon softly, “but you are strong. Stronger than any woman I know.” Rhaenyra glanced up to look at Aegon with a smile. She reached up and kissed him tenderly on his lips. He felt the softness and warmth from Rhaenyra’s gaze and smile, as always. He responded to the kiss by wrapping his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her up closer to align her body with his. He deepened the kiss slightly, his tongue brushing against hers. 

“I think it will be another boy.” said Rhaenyra softly, as she broke the kiss. 

“Oh, really? What makes you think that?” asked Aegon slightly playfully. However, Rhaenyra’s words were filled with certainty. She chuckled and continued, 

“It’s a feeling…” 

“Well, I for one would be lucky to have either. Particularly a princess.” said Aegon with content, he rested his hand on her belly. His fingers ran gently over the curve of her belly. “Just think,” continued Aegon, “a little Rhaenyra running around.” Rhaenyra chuckled at Aegon’s imagination. With already having three boys, she already assumed the Gods had fated her to only have boys. Perhaps this time it would be different. 

The Small Council

The Small Council room was bustling with chatter and activity among its members as Rhaenyra and Aegon entered the room together the next morning. They greeted the members of the council cheerfully, exchanging small pleasantries as they made their way to their seats. The other members went to their seats as well, waiting for the Queen to be seated first. As they noticed Rhaenys’ expression, their smiles faltered. They could see the worry etched on her face. 

“I take it you have news from Dorne,” said Rhaenyra, commencing the meeting. 

“I do. A raven came early this morning.” said Rhaenys, taking her seat at Rhaenyra’s right side, “Godsgrace was destroyed by Princes Jacaerys and Aemond. However, when they arrived… Prince Daemon was laying waste to the Lannister host with his dragon, Caraxes.” there was a stunned silence at the table. Rhaenyra nearly laughed, she hadn’t heard of or heard from Daemon in years. Her chest began to feel tight, worrying about the safety of her son. 

“W-what do you mean? Daemon? Laying waste to the Lannister host?” asked Rhaenyra with a slight stutter, trying to process what was being told to her. 

“The Lannister host arrived at Godsgrace before the Tyrell host, and Daemon seems to have been allied with Qoren Martell. But, as soon as Jacaerys and Aemond arrived… they engaged in a brief battle.”

“What?” blurted Rhaenyra in fear, “What happened? And where are they all now?” 

“Jacaerys and Aemond are fine, no injuries were sustained. Daemon was spotted fleeing east. We suspect he has taken residence somewhere along the western coast of Essos, perhaps Lys.” Rhaenyra felt her mind race as Rhaenys spoke, her worry for her son weighed heavily on her heart. She felt a rush of relief at the mention that he and Aemond were unharmed, but her concern for Daemon remained. There was a silence at the table as the members waited for the Queen to react. Aegon cleared his throat and spoke softly,

“So… the war is won?” he and Rhaenys looked at one another briefly, then back at Rhaenyra. 

“If a majority of the Dornish noble Houses surrender, then yes.” said Rhaenys, “Lord Commander Redwyne has already received ravens from a handful of houses that intend to declare for you… your grace.” the Hand of the Queen looked to her superior at the head of the table. 

“Then congratulations must be in order.” spoke up Alicent, with slight hesitation in her voice. 

“Congratulations will be in order when our sons return home.” mentioned Rhaenyra with worry, “and when the Dornish officially submit, bend the knee, and sign the Charter.” Rhaenyra looked across the table to Lady Elayne, the Speaker of the Chamber. 

“Lady Elayne, you may inform the Chamber about Dorne’s imminent surrender,” said the Queen. 

“As you wish, your grace.” Lady Elayne said as she bowed her head. Rhaenyra then looked at Rhaenys, 

“I want the Dornish lords to appear before me at court for their surrender.” 

“Yes, your grace.” 

“Should we consider which House to promote to be the paramount over Dorne?” spoke Lord Jasper, Master of Laws, “Once they bend the knee, of course.” 

“It depends who appears at court.” shrugged Rhaenyra, “We can’t make any decisions until we know who we are dealing with.” Rhaenyra looked around at the table, “Are there any other pressing matters anyone would like to raise?” 

“Your grace,” Lord Gormon Massey, the new Master of Coin, said, “I have been receiving messages from Crakehall.”

“Oh, and what does Lord Crakehall want now?” Rhaenyra tapped her fingers on the surface of the table, her voice filled with disinterest and irritation. 

“He has sent a fourth appeal to readjust his taxes to the previous rate.” explained Lord Gormon simply. 

“Appeal denied.” said Rhaenyra with a chuckle, “I will not hear of it any longer. See to it that Lord Crakehall puts an end to these silly requests.” she waved her hand. She was not going to forget the Crakehall’s reversal on their marriage offer to Prince Daeron, simply because of their disapproval of Aemond and Jacaerys’ marriage, believing Daeron might be attracted to men as well. 

“Your grace,” Lady Elayne spoke up once more, “I have with me the Northern Assistance Military Package agreement.” Lady Elayne stood up, in her hands was a single sheet of parchment paper. It detailed the contents of the assistance bill, “It was passed by the Chamber of Lords 113 to 5. The no votes consisted of the Iron Islands delegation. If your grace wishes to approve the measure, it requires your signature.” Rhaenyra felt a hint of satisfaction at the news, raising a brow to the fact that only the Iron Islands delegation opposed it. 

“Let me see the bill.” requested the Queen. Elayne walked over to the other end of the table, placing the paper in front of Rhaenyra. A handmaiden from the corner of the room fetched an ink and quill, placing it beside Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra read the bill, then reached for the quill and dipped it in the small jar of ink. She signed the bill. 

“And today marks the day the Lords and Ladies of Westeros passed their own law.” smiled Rhaenyra with a hint of apprehension, “The Seven Kingdoms will be forever changed from this day on.” Lady Elayne smiled with pride as she took back the paper, and went back to her seat. 

“Lady Elayne, what else does the Chamber of Lords have on its sights next?” asked Rhaenyra, folding her hands together pensively. 

“Well, your grace, there are a number of other proposals that the Chamber has been considering to take on,” she said, “ranging from trade agreements, court reform, and revisiting border disputes...” 

“Border disputes?” questioned Rhaenyra, “Where? And between who?” 

“Just whispers, I assure you,” said Elayne with a lighthearted chuckle, “The Stormlands have been patiently waiting to see what will happen to Dorne at the end of the war… and possibly make a claim to the Dornish Marches and Red Mountains.” 

“Well…” scoffed Rhaenyra, “let them continue to discuss if they desire.” 

Godsgrace, Dorne

Lady Gynevra Allyrion stood in a hooded cloak looking out over the river valley from a cliffside, her heart heavy with sadness and shock at the sight of her former home, now reduced to smoldering ruins. The heat of the fire from the two dragons’ assault still radiated up to the cliff at which she stood, casting a hazy, orange glow in the air. The entourage of knights, handmaidens, and servants stood behind her, all who served her, their eyes also on the carnage below, silent and somber. 

All that remained of Godsgrace were broken stones, towers reduced to half their height, charred wood, and the acid smell of death that lingered in the air. 

“My lady,” an armored knight approached the tall, statuesque Lady Gynevra, “our men have found Prince Qoren in the ruins.” Her expression remained stoic, she clenched her jaw, frustration and anger rising within her. She nodded to the knight, signaling for him to lead the way down the rocky path. Gynevra’s handmaids and attendants followed behind her as she began making her way down the cliffside. 

Lady Gynevra stood in the ruined entry courtyard, her heart sinking even further into the pit of her gut as she surveyed the extent of the damage to her home. The sight was horrific, the gateway behind her was blown apart, the archway crumbled. All around her, piles of stone and rubble marked the places where towers, stables, and barns had previously stood, now completely demolished. The main keep was the most devastating sight of all. Once a symbol of her family’s strength and power, now laid in ruins, much of its walls crumbled and blackened by dragonfire. 

Gynevra looked down at her boots, and she was met with a grim sight. A mixture of black soot, pools of blood, and mud stuck to the leather, a testament to the carnage that unfolded just the other night. Scorched and burned corpses laid scattered around her, their blackened bodies a stark reminder of her loss. She shut her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. 

“My lady!” called out a pair of knights. They carried Prince Qoren on a makeshift stretcher, laying him on a relatively flattened pile of bricks and stones. As the call reached her ears, her head snapped upward. She walked over to them, her heart in her throat as she saw her prince’s nearly unconscious form. 

Gynevra stood tall over Prince Qoren, looking at his severe injuries. His legs were both broken, the clothes on his body charred and melted into his skin. The right side of his face was burned, an ugly, raw mess. Bruises of all sizes covered the rest of his body. She remained serious and stoic in front of the whimpering prince, coming to the realization that Qoren Martell’s time was coming to a close. 

“G-Gynevra…” muttered Qoren, a tear streaming down his face, “it is… it is over.” he said weakly, “Dorne is lost.” he was holding back from fully sobbing. “My daughter… my family… my home… gone.” His voice was hoarse and strained. Gynevra looked down at Qoren’s hand, gently taking off a golden and bronze ring from his finger, which bore the emblem of House Martell. 

“Dorne is not lost,” said Gynevra confidently in a low voice, her eyes darkened as she glared at Qoren, “ You have lost. House Martell has failed.” Qoren’s eyes widened slightly as he heard Gynevra, “Failed in both the defense of our country, and the defense of our sovereignty in the long-run.” Her eyes burned with anger. Her words cut through him like a knife. Qoren tried to protest, 

“W-what? What do you mean?” he winced at the severe pains in his chest and abdomen from speaking. His efforts were in vain as his voice died in his throat. A flicker of shame passed over his face, and he hung his head low, unable to argue against Gynevra’s words. 

Gynevra took out a dagger from a pocket within her black cloak. She held it out in the sunlight, holding it gracefully. The blade glinted with a cold, dangerous edge. 

“We must forge a new path for Dorne.” she said, her gaze shifting from the dagger to Qoren, “One without House Martell.” Gynevra drove the dagger into Qoren’s chest. Any hope Qoren had of a painless end was dashed as she drove the dagger deeper into his chest. A gurgled cry of pain escaped his lips as her blade sank deeply. Within seconds, Qoren’s head fell to the side. 

The knights and handmaids watched with a mixture of horror and respect as Gynevra killed the Prince of Dorne. The sound of his dying gasp echoed in the air, and a tense silence fell over the ruined courtyard. Lady Gynevra stood with her face set in a stern expression, the bloody dagger still clutched in her hand. She turned to face her knights and handmaids. 

“We shall rebuild our country.” she declared, “To King’s Landing.” her handmaids and knights nodded and bowed their heads, their eyes full of determination as they took in their lady’s command. They knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, but they were ready to follow their new leader on this new path. 

Aemond & Jacaerys

Grassy Vale

Aemond and Jacaerys, their long journey from Dorne behind them, had decided to stop at the castle of Grassy Vale for the night. Grassy Vale was located in the northeastern corner of the Reach, near the Stormlands and the Crownlands. The castle itself was relatively small, but there was a quaint charm to it, and the surrounding town added to the warm atmosphere. 

Aemond and Jace sat side by side in the dining hall of the castle’s main keep, eating dinner with the Lord of House Meadows as their gracious hosts. They enjoyed the quietness of the castle, enjoying their meal with Lord Dustin Meadows. Lord Dustin made sure that the small dining hall was tastefully adorned and the meal was well-prepared for the princes. As they started to dine, the conversation between the princes and the lord was light and casual. 

“You know, I appointed my wife and daughter to serve as our representatives to the Chamber of Lords,” said Lord Dustin, cutting into his steak, “they were beyond excited, they had never been to King’s Landing before.” Aemond nodded at the mention of their excitement, while Jace responded with a smile, 

“I can only imagine how thrilled they must be. Correct me, my lord, but your daughter is the heir to Grassy Vale, is she not?” asked Jace. 

“Yes, yes, that is correct, my prince.” nodded Lord Dustin, “Jara shall become the Lady of Grassy Vale one day.” 

“It is impressive that she is already being groomed to lead her house,” said Jace with interest, taking a sip of wine from his cup. Aemond looked up from his plate and glared at Lord Dustin, 

“I take it she faced some resistance… along with your wife.” he said. 

“I do fear for their safety, but with Lady Elinor leading the Reach, and Lady Elayne leading the Chamber in the capital… I feel assured that Jara and Jocelyn are in safe hands.” explained Lord Dustin. It was no secret that the Chamber of Lords only had a tiny fraction of women compared to men. 

“I understand your worry, my lord.” said Jace, “It is true that women are vastly outnumbered in positions of power in the Chamber.” 

“Aye,” nodded Lord Dustin, “it is ironic.”

“What is?” asked Aemond. 

“I am constantly hearing words from many of my peers in the Reach that feel the Realm has been turned upside down by the presence of women in power.” explained the Lord. Aemond and Jace listened intently to the Lord’s words, their gazes fixed on him as he spoke. Aemond’s eyebrow quirked at the mention of words from his fellow peers across the Reach. Jace couldn’t help but be curious. 

“Turned upside down, you say? How so?” asked Jace. 

“Well,” Dustin cleared his throat, “We have a Queen, we have a Lady Hand, we have a Lady Warden in the Reach, and a Lady Chamber leader. Lest we forget the Dowager Queen still on the Queen’s Small Council. Yet, men take up most of the seats in the Chamber.” 

“I see it as justice.” shrugged Jace bluntly. 

“I concur, with my Prince husband.” said Aemond, emphasizing on the word husband . Lord Dustin became a bit nervous, fearing he upset the princes. 

“I do not feel these same concerns as these other lords, I assure you,” he said nervously. 

“There is no need for concern, my lord.” said Jace sweetly, “We are not offended by your words. We appreciate your honesty.” 

“Now your marriage…” Lord Dustin drank more wine from his cup, “three spouses, two of them men … what a world we live in.” he had a grin on his face, yet Aemond couldn’t tell if the Lord was going to say something ignorant and demeaning. Jace was also tense, waiting for what else he’d say. 

“It is certainly unique,” said Jace, his voice light, trying to keep the conversation friendly, “but we make it work, and we are happy.” Jace reaches for Aemond’s hand on the table and squeezes it tenderly. The two young princes glance at one another. Aemond’s hardened, neutral, face soon softened as Jace held his hand and looked into his eye. 

“Well, I want you both to know,” continued Lord Dustin, “you have my support and my defense in whatever mudslinging, name-calling, reputation-dragging shit that these ignoramuses across the Seven Kingdoms send your way.” 

…

Later that night after dinner had ended, the princes were shown to their guest room in the upper levels of the castle. The room was large and ornately decorated, much to Jace and Aemond’s surprise for such a minor castle in the Reach. There were three large floor-to-ceiling windows at one end of the room that overlooked a shallow valley of hills and meadows. There were small farmhouses and fields that dotted the landscape, illuminated by the bright moon. 

“I don’t need his support or defense,” snapped Aemond as he untied his boot laces, sitting on the edge of the bed, “we have two dragons. That’s all we need.” the silver haired prince grumbled with annoyance. 

“I think it was rather sweet.” noted Jacaerys, as he stood in front of a tall standing mirror, taking off his red cape and coat. His eyes flickered to Aemond every now and then in the mirror’s reflection. 

“And I’m sick of hearing commentary on our marriage. Everyone in bloody Westeros has an opinion about it.” added Aemond, throwing his boots onto the floor once he got them untied. He sat with his hands on the edge of the bed, gripping the blankets tightly. Jace stopped focusing on himself and turned around to look at Aemond. His husband was staring blankly at the floor for a moment. Aemond then looked up as Jace approached him. 

Jace stood right in front of Aemond, nearly between his knees. Jace reached down and lifted Aemond’s face up by his chin gently. He then cupped Aemond’s face, cradling his head in his hands as he looked at him with a comforting gaze. 

“It is better to have one more lord on our side than against us.” said Jace, leaning down. His face and body were only inches away from Aemond’s. Aemond could feel the heat coming off of his prince husband. Jace’s hands gently trailed down to Aemond’s shoulders. “This only fortifies our legitimacy.” added Jace in a whisper.

“I suppose you’re right…” sighed Aemond, his eye scanning Jace’s features. Aemond took in every little detail. His gaze was almost hungry as he looked up at Jace, his mind filled with thoughts of pulling him closer, holding him tight, and never letting go. Aemond’s breathing grew slightly heavier as he tried to control his impulses. 

“Now, get changed. Those clothes smell of dragon.” said Jace, he patted Aemond’s cheek and moved past him to climb into bed. Aemond smiled and nodded, unbuttoning his shirt and pants. He watched Jace get comfortable in bed, standing at the bedside as he took off his pants. He couldn’t help but notice the way the soft moonlight spilled through the large windows, illuminating his body. 

With his body fully bare, Aemond got into bed. He settled himself next to Jacaerys, the sheets were cool against his skin. Aemond noticed Jace had a smirk on his face, and gave him a confusing look. 

“What’s that look for?” asked Aemond lightheartedly. 

“I’m remembering our first trip together, when we stopped in the Stormlands.” reminisced Jace, “We made camp in a meadow.” Aemond started to caress Jace’s arm slowly as he recounted the memory. “You went off to the creek in the woods to bathe, and I followed you.” 

“I remember.” nodded Aemond slowly, a smile curling at the corners of his lips, “I’m glad you followed me.” 

“Something in my body told me to.” said Jace with wide eyes, looking deeply into Aemond’s eyes, both his blue eye and sapphire eye. Aemond chuckled softly, 

“Oh I know what part of your body told you to.” 

“Oh shut up,” Jace let out a mock gasp, pretending to be offended as he turned away from Aemond. Aemond chuckled even harder, spooning his body against Jace’s and wrapping his arms around him tightly, trying to pull him back. “How dare you!” exclaimed Jace with a smirk, “Accusing my own body of being such a slave to base desires…” Jace pretended to struggle against Aemond’s tight grip. He wriggled in Aemond’s arms, trying to escape his embrace, but secretly enjoyed the feeling of their bodies pressed together like this. 

“You are no slave,” said Aemond, nuzzling his lips into the crook of Jace’s neck, right under his curly hair. Aemond took in a deep breath of his scent, his eyes nearly fluttering, then began to kiss Jace lightly. Aemond reached one hand down to Jace’s groin, rubbing his bulge softly. Jace curled his body even more with a grin forming on his face from Aemond’s touch, 

“But you are mine, my husband.” added Aemond, in a low, seductive growl. Aemond pressed his naked body into Jace’s even further, sliding his hardening cock between Jace’s thighs. “And you shouldn’t have even put on these clothes.” growled Aemond with some irritation that his husband was fully dressed in nightwear. 

“Oh why not?” teased Jace. Jace closed his eyes as he relished in the feeling of Aemond’s hand going up the back of his shirt to rub his back, then circling over his waist down to his belly, and sliding inside his trousers. 

“It’s a waste of time,” whispered Aemond, moving his lips to Jace’s ear to bite his earlobe tenderly. Jace continued to squirm, letting out a soft gasp as he felt Aemond rub his bare cock. Aemond pressed his hips harder into Jace, his thick cock poking right at his balls. Jace suddenly realized he could feel the familiar sensation of heat beginning to creep back into his body, the way it always did when he was close to Aemond like this. 

Aemond’s kisses, touches, his hardened cock all pressed against him was making it grow even stronger. It was almost as if Aemond could sense it as well, and continued to fuel it. 

Aemond had enough of Jace’s squirming, he shifted back, rolling Jace onto his back. Aemond quickly got on top of Jace, planting his body between his legs. Aemond pinned Jace’s hands outwardly, and their gazes were fixed on one another. 

“Promise me not to move, alright?” requested Aemond with raised eyebrows. Jace bit his bottom lip and nodded. His eyes were wide with anticipation, and his body tensing with eagerness. He liked this feeling, being pinned against the bed by Aemond, it sent a thrill through his body, adoring the helplessness of the position. It was intoxicating. Aemond sat up on his knees, his thighs resting underneath Jace’s. 

Aemond removed his hands from Jace’s and began to unbutton Jace’s shirt. The buttons came apart easily and quickly. Aemond then removed the shirt off of Jace’s shoulders one by one, and then threw it across the room. He then grabbed the waistband of Jace’s pajama pants. Aemond noticed the way Jace’s breathing quickened with even more eagerness. He gripped the fabric of his pants tightly and slowly pulled them off. Aemond pulled them off of Jace’s round buttocks, revealing his bare skin inch by tantalizing inch. 

Aemond kept his eyes locked on Jace, slowly lowering one hand down to Jace’s balls. He fondled Jace’s balls, then proceeded to move further down, to his hole. It was slick and wet. Aemond looked down, noticing how wet it had become. Jace’s seductive smirk faded, starting to feel embarrassed. 

“Oh no…” Jace muttered. Aemond shushed him, shaking his head. Aemond slid his finger inside Jace’s hole, and Jace immediately closed his eyes, gasping softly. 

“I like it,” murmured Aemond, “means you need my cock.” Aemond removed his fingers after just a quick period of fingering. Jace opened his eyes. Aemond put his hand on Jace’s lower belly, caressing him with his thumb. There was a tender exchange of eyes between the two as Aemond held his hand over Jace’s abdomen. It was softer than usual. 

Aemond gripped Jace’s cock, stroking it slowly, and lowered his body over Jace’s. Aemond kissed Jace’s chest, moving to one of his nipples. He licked and sucked on one of them, and Jace ran his hands through Aemond’s hair. 

“Ah-ah, no, back down.” Aemond stopped, and Jace put his hands back down on the bed with a huff. He wanted to touch Aemond desperately, and Aemond knew that. Aemond smirked, and then continued to lick Jace’s chest. He moved up Jace’s chest, whilst still jerking his cock slowly. Aemond sucked on the right side of Jace’s neck, lathering him with long kisses. 

Jace let out a quiet moan, he clenched the bed sheet, feeling the unbelievably strong desire to run his hands all across Aemond’s body. 

“I need you,” growled Jace impatiently, “in me. Now.” Aemond felt Jace’s legs tense, he was becoming uncontrollably lustful. Aemond smirked. He sat back up and grabbed his own cock, rubbing it against Jace’s wet hole. Jace moaned softly. Aemond looked down, Jace’s hole throbbed, feeling his cock nearby. 

“Please,” begged Jace. His hole continued to wetten and Aemond slid the head of his cock inside Jace. The brown haired prince gasped with pleasure, holding his breath for a moment, waiting for more. Aemond pulled out. “Aemond…” said Jace with desperation. Aemond pushed his cock back inside, pushing in fully. He started to thrust slowly and steadily. 

Aemond lowered his body over Jace’s, in a close embrace, and Jace began to smile. 

“Touch me,” ordered Aemond in a whisper. Jace clung his arms around Aemond, his hands running all over his back. 

“Oh fuck yes,” moaned Jace. He closed his eyes, his arms tight around Aemond’s upper back. Aemond thrusted deep, burying his face in Jace’s neck. Jace focused on the rhythm of Aemond’s pounding, hearing the bed creak slightly. His body was burning up again, starting at the pit of his stomach. He winced slightly, but tried to ignore it and not think about it. He pictured in his mind the day he first felt the symptoms of being in heat, the incredible pain he felt, forcing himself to stay bedridden. His bed sheets were ruined with whatever slick wetness came from him. It was embarrassing. He had to be locked away. His mind then wandered to Ser Bryce attacking him shortly after, trying to rape him. Jace tightened his grip around Aemond’s body, and Aemond grunted from the slight pain. Jace furrowed his brow as he kept his eyes closed, shaking his head. The thought of forcing to make love to Helaena on their wedding night as well came to mind. His mind was racing. He pictured Daemon and Caraxes, killing hundreds of their men. He pictured attacking Daemon with Vermithor. His heart beat even harder. 

“Jace…” Jace opened his eyes to see Aemond looking at him, he stopped his thrusting, and laid still on top of him. “Are you okay?” asked Aemond in a whisper, catching his breath. Jace batted his eyes confused, he didn’t realize how much he was dissociating. “Your heart is racing… more than usual… during sex.” noted Aemond. 

“I… I-uh…” Jace stammered and nearly choked up, “I got lost in my mind, I think.” 

“Should we stop?” asked Aemond cautiously. Jace studied Aemond’s face, he felt a slight sense of relief wash over him from the care in Aemond’s voice. Jace gave a small smile and caressed Aemond’s scar on his face, 

“No, I’m fine now.” Aemond was hesitant, but Jace nodded, “Keep going, please.” he whispered. Aemond did as he said, and slowly resumed his thrusting. This time, Aemond kept his gaze on Jace. The eye contact kept Jace focused, and the pleasure started to come back. 

“Feel better?” asked Aemond with a heavy breath. 

“Yes,” he nodded with a soft groan, “better.” Aemond felt that he shouldn’t go too hard on his husband, there was something bothering him still, hidden beneath his demeanor. Aemond maintained a steady pace, as he knew, Jace also loved the sensual, passionate side of him as well. 

Aemond reached down to plant his lips on Jace, thrusting a bit faster. Jace moaned and whimpered, 

“Yes, Aemond, yes…” he moaned softly, whilst his lips being pressed by Aemond’s. He moved his hands down to Aemond’s butt, pulling him in with each thrust. 

“Fuck,” grunted Aemond, and Jace smiled. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” exhaled Jace with ecstasy, throwing his head back deeper into the pillows. 

“Good, cum for me,” growled Aemond. He watched Jace’s face morph further into pleasure, his mouth wide as he gasped and groaned. “Good boy, almost,” continued Aemond, fucking a bit harder into Jace. 

“Oh yes,” panted Jace, looking down to see his cock burst a load onto his belly. 

“Fuck yes,” groaned Aemond. He closed his eyes and thrusted harder, “Fuck, that hole is mine,” 

“Cum in me,” said Jace desperately. Within seconds, Aemond did as his husband pleaded for, thrusting his hips hard in slow bursts as he came inside Jace. 

…

Jacaerys snuggled into Aemond’s arms, feeling completely satisfied from their intimate time together. He laid his head on Aemond’s upper chest, with Aemond cradling him at his side. Aemond ran his fingers through Jace’s hair gently, feeling the soft curls of his hair, and breathed in his sweet scent. Although Aemond was entirely content, Jace had a somewhat disappointed look on his face. 

“What’s on your mind?” asked Aemond, glancing down at Jace. 

“Huh? Nothing.” shrugged Jace. 

“You had a moment. Something’s churning in that head of yours.” noted Aemond. He can tell by Jace’s expression that he was deep in thought. 

“I think… I was having a slight panic.” said Jace softly, “Just a lot of things ran through my mind.” Jace shifted back slightly so he could look directly at his husband. Aemond looked down at him. 

“Anything in particular?” prodded Aemond curiously. 

“Daemon…” murmured Jace, “What the hell was he doing there? And he was going to attack us .” Aemond listened intently, his expression growing serious. There was an edge of fear in Jace’s voice, the memory of Daemon’s attack still fresh in his mind. 

“I don’t know.” answered Aemond, “It is strange… he appeared out of nowhere after all this time.” 

“My mother isn’t going to be pleased.” noted Jace solemnly. He knew that his mother had a complicated history with Daemon, there was a connection between the two of them. However, Daemon was always one to run off, clearly. “It doesn’t make sense as to why he’d be fighting for the Dornish, especially this late in the game…” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter what he and Dorne are doing, because the war has been won.” said Aemond with a huff, “We can finally return home, focus on ourselves and only ourselves.” Aemond ran his fingers up and down Jace’s arm as he held him close. Jace felt satisfied and safe with Aemond. However, he started to think about Helaena. He hoped she was doing alright back home. 

Daeron

King’s Landing

Daeron had dressed in comfortable traveling attire, and his belongings were packed in his bag. A gentle breeze blew through his silver-gold hair, and he had a look of determination on his face. A handmaiden gave the Prince his packed back and Daeron slung it over his shoulder. Tessarion waited patiently in the courtyard of the Red Keep, ready to embark on their journey to Dorne to escort the Tyrell army back through the Prince’s Pass. 

He could hear the faint sound of his dragon’s breathing in the quiet morning air. As he turned around, he saw Alicent and Helaena standing on the side of the courtyard, both looking rather worried. Daeron walked towards his mother and sister, but before he could utter a word to them, Queen Rhaenyra entered the courtyard with two of her Kingsguard. 

He took a step towards her and bowed his head, 

“My Queen,” said Daeron. 

“How are you feeling, Daeron?” asked Rhaenyra compassionately. Daeron looked up at his older half-sister. 

“Fine, I think, your grace. Eager to get back to our soldiers.” he answered. Rhaenyra smiled pleasantly. 

“I want you to remember that if you see danger, think before you engage. I want you to remain safe at all costs.” insisted the Queen. Alicent felt a sense of relief from Rhaenyra’s words. Her young son was rebellious and rarely listened to his mother, but perhaps he’d listen to his eldest sister, and his Queen. Daeron gave a small smile and nodded his head, 

“Yes, your grace.” Rhaenyra ruffled the teenager’s long hair and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Rhaenyra saw her own sons when she looked at Daeron, mainly Jacaerys. Rhaenyra stepped back so Daeron could speak to his mother and sister. Daeron then faced them. Alicent stepped forward, 

“Heed the words of your Queen,” said Alicent in a soft, yet urging, tone, “and your mother. Stay high, far from the ground, as much as you can.” 

“I’ll be fine, mother.” said Daeron with a sigh and a small smile. 

“We await your return,” added Alicent, “don’t go back to Oldtown… please.” Daeron had never seen his mother so emotional before… so vulnerable. He wanted to protest, live an independent life, but he could see how much his mother missed him. He then looked at Helaena, feeling his resolve weaken even more so. 

“I will come back.” said Daeron to both Alicent and Helaena. He couldn’t help but feel some guilt about leaving them. Daeron lunged forward to hug his mother, much to her surprise. Alicent was taken aback, but after a moment, she wrapped her arms around her son and held him against her chest. She kissed his head, 

“Send uncle Gwayne my regards.” she added. Daeron stepped back and nodded. He then faced Helaena. 

“You’ll have to draw double now, since I won’t be able to for a while.” he said. Helaena smiled and chuckled softly under her breath, and as she responded, her voice was light and teasing, 

“You never drew that well anyways, brother.” 

“I’ll be back for lessons.” he insisted and smiled. He hugged Helaena, running his hands under her arms to grasp her back tightly. Helaena returned the embrace, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders. Daeron was already taller than her. As the two hugged, she let out a quiet huff, her voice a little bit shaky as she spoke, 

“I know.”  

Daeron mounted Tessarion, feeling the cold leather of the saddle against his legs. He could feel the tension and the emotions in the air as he looked one last time at his family. As Tessarion chittered and writhed with anticipation, he spoke in High Valyrian, 

“Soves, Tessarion.” the blue dragon let out a low rumble in response, taking a few running steps before launching into the air with a powerful beat of her wings, lifting into the sky.

The prince felt a sense of freedom once again as Tessarion soared through the sky, leaving the Red Keep behind. It was a familiar feeling, but it was tinged with a sense of sadness. As the city got smaller below him, he could see the landscape of Westeros spreading out in almost every direction. He headed south, to Dorne. 

Chapter Text

Jacaerys

The Red Keep

Jacaerys was reluctant yet glad to be back home in King’s Landing. The journey to and from Dorne was a long one, even on dragonback. However, with Aemond at his side, it made it less of a pain. He let out a sigh as he walked through the halls of the Red Keep, peeking into open offices he passed through, searching for Maester Gerardys. He was beginning to feel familiar pangs of stomach pain again, and he feared that his symptoms were returning, signaling he was likely in heat again. 

Jace then reached the office of Grand Maester Orwyle, seeing that Gerardys was in the office as well. The two men were talking to one another quietly at Orwyle’s desk, which was littered with medicinal bottles, flasks, and test tubes. Jace knocked on the opened door gently, poking his head inside. Orwyle and Gerardys looked up at the sound of the knock on the door. 

“Ah, Prince Jacaerys, how may we assist you?” asked Orwyle with a sympathetic tone. 

“I, uh, was actually here to speak with Maester Gerardys.” said Jace, standing in the doorway with his hands clasped together behind his back. Gerardys nodded in understanding, getting up from his seat in front of Orwyle’s desk. 

“Yes, of course, my prince.” Gerardys walked over to Jace but then turned to look at Orwyle one last time, “We shall continue this later, my friend.” 

“Very good, Maester.” nodded Orwyle. Gerardys smiled as he faced Jace and patted him on his back as the two went out into the hall, continuing down the hall. 

Gerardys could tell by Jace’s tense facial expression and overall tone that the prince was feeling uneasy. They soon reached Gerardys’ temporary office down the hall, given to him by the Grand Maester. Gerardys ushered Jace into the office, which was smaller than Orwyle’s, but still quaint and seemed like a laboratory. Gerardys shut the door, gesturing for Jace to take a seat at the seating area near the desk in the corner. 

“I have done some tests on the samples you provided.” Gerardys glanced at the counter at the other end of the room, where on it were a tray of test tubes. Jace looked. They were the samples of his urine he provided, “It is… remarkable… and perhaps might be troubling.” added Gerardys. Jace sat on the edge of his seat, incredibly tense and uncomfortable. The Maester spoke ominously and forebodingly, but Jace couldn’t help but focus on the test tubes. 

“Well… what did you find?” asked Jace, biting his bottom lip nervously. 

“By the will of either the Gods or your ultimate destiny,” spoke Gerardys, “you are with child.” Jace’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he heard Gerardys’ words. His mind was a whirl with confusion. The thought of being pregnant, as a man, was a bizarre and unsettling idea. He shook his head in denial, his voice shaky as he spoke, 

“That is impossible. I cannot be.” 

“For any other member of the royal family,” said Gerardys, “it is protocol to conduct three tests. For you… I conducted eight total. After the first three came positive, I thought I had to be making a mistake.” the Maester was just as rattled as Jacaerys, he was perhaps the first person in - who knows how long - who made a groundbreaking scientific discovery. 

Jacaerys could only stare at Gerardys. Eight tests. Eight positive tests. It was almost beyond belief - it had to be. He felt a strange mixture of confusion and fear. He simply could not believe it, and he could not understand it. 

“We have uncovered something remarkable here, my prince.” said Gerardys, speaking in a soft, gentle tone, trying to reassure the prince, “And you are not alone.” tears started to swell in Jace’s eyes as he thought of all the ramifications this would bring forward. He felt a sense of panic rising in his chest as the reality of the situation sunk in. His heart felt heavier and heavier with each passing second. 

“I don’t know what to do… What does this mean? How can I even tell anyone about this?” the young prince’s voice was nearly shrill. 

“Breathe, my prince.” said Gerardys. Jace took in a rough deep breath, holding it for a second before exhaling. He was still shaky and his eyes widened. Jace continued his deep breathing, trying to steady himself, trying to quell the storm of emotions swirling inside of him. 

“More research has come in from the Citadel,” said Gerardys gently, “accounts and texts from even across the Narrow Sea. This is a phenomenon more common in Essos, typically southern Essos.” 

“So… what is it?” asked Jace shakily. 

“As I mentioned the secondary sex to you before, it is seen in places such as Lys, Volantis, Sarnor, Mantarys, Tolos… it is more common the closer to Old Valyria, and strangely further east to the Shadowlands.” explained Gerardys, “In Sarnor, they call these two types of secondary sexes saheli and dhevari . In Qarth; tarak and barsalai . In Leng; ghiskar and vahk . In Lys… the closest accounts we have documented; omega and alpha .” 

Jacaerys listened intently as Gerardys explained the secondary sex types to him. The more he heard, the more he felt overwhelmed and confused. Even more unease washed over him as the Maester listed off the names and terms used in different cultures. 

“And… which am I?” asked Jace innocently. 

“Well, since Lys is the only city that primarily uses the Common Tongue, the Citadel has adopted the terms omega and alpha. That means you are an omega, Prince Jacaerys.” said the Maester, and Jace remained frozen. The word omega echoed in his head, he felt his stomach lurching at just the thought of it. 

“I… I have to go to Dragonstone…” muttered Jacaerys, staring blankly as he thought of what he should do. “I can’t be around anyone.” Jacaerys stood up. Gerardys got up as well, 

“My Prince, it is entirely normal to be confused and afraid and-”

“I cannot be here .” insisted Jacaerys fearfully. He had to be somewhere safe, and not around any prying eyes of the Red Keep and the capital. Here in the capital, the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms lurked in every corridor. “I cannot let anyone know this.” 

“Prince Jacaerys, please.” Jace was already going to the door. Jace stopped as he opened the door, turning his head to look at Gerardys, 

“I need you at Dragonstone with me, Maester. Please…” his voice was strained and saddened. 

Jacaerys moved quickly through the corridors of the Red Keep, his heart racing and his mind in a frenzy. He felt a sense of urgency driving him forward, as if some sort of clock was ticking in his head. He had to get out, somewhere alone, get to safety, somewhere he could process all of this. 

As tears rolled down his cheeks, he impatiently wiped them away, unwilling to slow down, unwilling to be seen by anyone. He had only one destination in mind; the Dragonpit, and then Dragonstone. 

As Jace moved down a long hall, Helaena stood at the intersection far from his view, and her heart skipped a beat upon seeing her husband. She was not surprised or startled at this, and she watched with a solemn expression as Jace continued to wipe tears off of his face. She watched him continue walking down the hall, her brow furrowing in concern now. 

Jacaerys stopped in his tracks right at the end of the long hall, hesitating for a moment before turning his head to see Helaena. His heart sank as his eyes met hers; he knew she had witnessed his emotional state, the redness of his own eyes betraying the tears he tried to hide. 

Helaena began walking towards Jace, her stride was measured but also quick. As she got closer, she slowed her pace, as if she were approaching a frightened animal. She studied the young prince, taking in his body language the way he held himself, as if he were trying to remain strong, but failed to conceal his vulnerability. 

They stood face to face, but Jace suddenly turned his face away as he felt another tear roll down his cheek. Helaena studied his face with understanding eyes, 

“Let me come with you.” Jace turned back to look at her, his expression a mixture of surprise and hope. Deep down, it felt like Helaena already knew what was going on. Helaena held out her hand to Jace, and he looked down at it. His heart skipped a beat, his eyes fixated on her open palm, before finally taking it in his own. Her soft and warm hand against his was both comforting and a little intimidating. 

Aemond

The Red Keep

Aemond moved with fluid grace and precision as he dueled with a knight a few years older than him. He was in excellent form, his movements practiced and flawless, his silver-white hair tied back to prevent it from getting in his face. He was focused and intense, his eye narrowed as he sparred back and forth, his sword clashing against the knight’s. Aemond quickly moved onto the offensive, his body lunging forward with powerful strikes. The prince pushed him back, step by step. 

“Prince Aemond,” called an older man’s voice from the side of the courtyard, but Aemond was too focused on finishing the duel. Gerardys rushed out into the courtyard, keeping his distance from the duel, “Prince Aemond,” he said louder. Aemond turned his head, his focus now broken. 

“What?” he snapped. Before Gerardys could even respond, the roar of two dragons echoed up above in the skies. Aemond looked up. Flying over the Red Keep was Vermithor, lurching slowly over the massive castle. The shadow of the Bronze Fury cast a sudden darkness over the courtyard. Then, Vermithor was followed by Dreamfyre. Aemond’s eye widened. 

“It is Prince Jacaerys, he is fleeing to Dragonstone.” said Gerardys to Aemond. Aemond then fixed his gaze on the Maester. Something had to be wrong for Jace to leave without saying anything, especially on Vermithor. Aemond dropped the sword and rushed past Gerardys, he was going to get Vhagar. 

Otto Hightower

The Red Keep

Lord Otto Hightower sat at a small desk in his new, modest office in the lower levels of the Red Keep, his expression serious and determined. He was flanked by a select group of allies from the Reach: Lord Mercer Tarly of Oldtown; Joros and Galen Costayne of Oldtown, brothers both representing the city; and Garth and Jackson Beesbury, brothers of Honeyholt. 

They were gathered around the desk, the atmosphere in the room was dim and dark, serious and intense. They were having a private meeting with Lord Otto, discussing their next plans in the Chamber of Lords. 

“Some may consider these propositions to be leaps of faith,” spoke Lord Mercer, “but I think that they are appropriate. We shall begin with the bill on codifying lines of succession of lordships to pass to male heirs only.” Mercer looked around at the men around him, the two sets of brothers, the Costaynes and Beesburys, were far younger than him and Otto. They were eager to find allies in the Chamber, eager to gain relevance and importance. 

“Then,” continued Lord Mercer, “the outlaw of same-sex marriages for common man. It is time we prevent any Houses across the Seven Kingdoms from being influenced by the fanaticism of House Targaryen…” 

“And when shall we come forward with these bills and present them to the Chamber for a vote?” asked Lord Galen Costayne. 

“First we must receive the approval from a delegation leader who has the authority to submit a bill to the floor.” explained Otto, “And given Lady Elayne’s… closeness with the Crown… we must turn our focus to another delegation leader that may be more amenable to our goals.” Lady Elayne not only served as leader of the full Chamber, but she also served as the leader of the delegation of members from the Reach. 

“Lady Elayne would deny us outright.” agreed Lord Jackson Beesbury. 

“Then who would support us?” asked Lord Garth Beesbury. 

“We must plant the seed in the mind of another Lord from another delegation who would bring it forward to their leader.” said Otto, “If we directly approach another leader, they surely would not trust our intentions for bypassing Lady Elayne.” 

“The Westerlands are out of the question,” said Lord Joros, “Lady Jacinta is Lady Elayne’s closest ally.” 

“And the Vale, although led by Lord Sander, is in the pocket of Lady Jeyne Arryn.” noted Lord Mercer. 

“I say we approach either the North or the Iron Islands. Lord Roger Bolton and Lord Quenton Greyjoy have a distaste for Lady Elayne…” suggested Lord Galen. 

“Very good,” nodded Otto, pleased with the young lord’s idea. The North and Iron Islands were the Chamber’s smallest delegation, they always felt threatened by the vast size of the delegations from the Reach and Westerlands. “Lord Joros, I want you to meet with a member of the Iron Islands delegation. Offer the contents of the bill on amending the line of succession in the Royal Charter. And inform the Lord that in exchange, he will have support from members of the Reach.” commanded Otto. 

“Then, we shall wait and see how they respond.” added Lord Mercer. 

A knock at the door interrupted the discussion. Otto and the other men in the room turned their attention to the door. A knight of the Kingsguard stood there, 

“My lords,” he acknowledged the men, “Dowager Queen Alicent would like to speak with you, Lord Otto.” The knight shifted aside and Alicent stepped into the office, holding her hands together. All the men in the room rose from their chairs, including Otto, acknowledging the Dowager Queen as she entered the room. 

“We can continue this on the morrow,” said Otto to the men. The men quietly shuffled out of the room, each of them bowing their heads to Alicent as they walked past her. The knight then remained outside the room. The father and daughter were alone in the office, staring at one another silently. 

“They stuck you in the lowest levels possible, I see.” noted Alicent, looking around the office. Alicent’s comment stung Otto slightly, reminding him of his new, more modest, surroundings. 

“It was all the Queen could offer Lady Elayne for us more important members of the Chamber…” said Otto with a lighthearted tone. He sat down at his desk. Alicent faced him, still standing in the middle of the room. 

“I never thought I’d see you back here.” said Alicent in a serious tone, “Especially after all those letters you sent, begging me to return home to Oldtown.” 

“Times have changed.” said Otto, “And so have my reasons for being here.” he said plainly. 

“I just think it’s rich that you’re back here.” Alicent said as she nodded her head. Otto smirked at his daughter’s thorniness. He leaned forward in his seat and rested his arms on his desk. 

“I was given a new opportunity.” 

“A new opportunity to undermine Rhaenyra’s rule?” shot back Alicent. 

“No,” said Otto carefully, “but to preserve the sanctity of the Seven Kingdoms.” he held out his hands, as if he were presenting rather obvious information. “After all, you are the Queen’s Second Hand … you should know that. But ever since your dear King husband’s passing, you have seemed to have lost your way.” Alicent clenched her jaw with frustration, it was subtle at first, but it was continuously growing within her. 

“I’ve not lost my way,” said the Dowager Queen sternly, “I’m free. Free from you. And I have come to understand certain truths about this Realm, truths that perhaps you have forgotten in your pursuit of power.” Otto stood up from his seat, standing tall, 

“Let us not forget who made you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” Alicent felt a sudden wave of anxiety rush over her body, a feeling she was so used to growing up in her father’s shadow. However, she would not falter this time. 

“Let us not get into what made me.” said Alicent with wide but forceful eyes. Otto felt a pang of guilt as he saw the anxiety briefly wash over his daughter. He knew very well that he was a dominating presence in her life, and she was finally pushing back against him. He nodded slightly in understanding, his expression softened, 

“We need not be adversaries, daughter.” he said. 

“And I do not want to be your enemy, father.” she admitted, her voice quieter, more vulnerable. “But we see things differently.” Alicent walked back to the opened door, looking one last time at her father, 

“Mind your place in all of this.” said Alicent confidently, “You are not Hand any longer, and Viserys is dead and gone.” Otto watched in silence as Alicent walked to the door. Her voice had a mixture of authority but also some sadness. 

Alicent walked out of her father’s office and into the dark hallway, being followed by her single knight of the Kingsguard. She kept her head high, trying to suppress the raging anxiety that pounded in her chest after confronting her father. Otto couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders tensed, he could always spot her wavering from anxiety. Despite their differing views, a part of him still worried for her. He sat back down in his chair, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried to figure out his next move. 

Daeron

Skyreach, Dorne

As Prince Daeron approached the castle Skyreach on the back of Tessarion, his gaze took in the vast number of soldiers that had gathered there. The Tyrell men were making their way back to the Reach, and Skyreach was the last stop in Dorne on their journey before entering the Prince’s Pass. He landed his dragon in the open courtyard of the castle. 

The blue dragon’s presence made the soldiers and knights in the courtyard and on the castle walls all pause and stare, but Daeron’s attention was focused on finding his uncle, Ser Gwayne. 

Daeron hopped off of Tessarion with ease, receiving stares from the men around him. He was dressed in an outfit befitting of a Prince, finely made, but it did little to conceal his thin frame. Despite his slender form, it was evident that he had begun to develop some muscle tone, likely from his training and extreme dragonriding. 

His clothing hugged his body, emphasizing his athletic build, and although not extravagant, it was clearly made of high-quality materials. His sleeveless doublet bore the colors of his dual heritage. The left side of his doublet being in black for House Targaryen, and the right side being green for House Hightower. 

Daeron patted Tessarion on her snout and headed for the castle entrance. 

The entry hall to Skyreach was rather empty and desolate. He looked around, not sure where to go to find Gwayne. As the door shut behind him, so did all the sounds of the outdoors. It felt eerie. The feeling of eeriness also was not assured by the fact that the castle’s owners, House Fowler, refused to surrender and many of their family members were killed during the siege, and others were put to the sword after the siege ended. 

“Daeron!” called Gwayne, coming from a side corridor, joined by Lord Redwyne. Daeron smiled, happy to see his uncle. He walked over to Gwayne. The uncle patted Daeron’s shoulder and rubbed it roughly. “Ready for the next venture, I see.” said Gwayne with a smile. 

“More than ready.” replied Daeron, returning the smile. The rough pat on his shoulder felt comforting, a connection to someone who he felt comfortable around in this foreign and hostile land. “Where has everyone gone?” asked Daeron, glancing around the entry hall of the castle. 

“Well, House Fowler’s remaining survivors have left for King’s Landing to bend the knee to the Queen.” answered Lord Redwyne. 

“Are there many of them left?” asked Daeron curiously. 

“Just a fourteen year old girl and her four year old brother.” noted Gwayne with a hint of solace. Redwyne patted Gwayne on his back and bowed his head to the prince, 

“If you’ll excuse me, my prince, I have some matters to attend to.” Redwyne headed for the door, leaving Gwayne alone with Daeron. Daeron felt a saddened feeling in his chest from hearing about the Fowler children. He couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for those children to have to trek halfway across Westeros to a city they’ve never been to, to declare before a Queen they’ve never met before, that they’d never rise up against her again. 

“That’s… unfortunate,” said Daeron. He took a deep breath, he didn't want to think about it too long, “So, when do we leave for the Pass?” 

“At dawn.” said Gwayne, “We will make the same trek back to Nightsong… and then you shall be relieved of your duties.” The idea that he would soon be relieved of his duties was fairly bittersweet. On one hand, he was eager to get out of Dorne and get back to more familiar territory and faces… like Helaena. On the other hand, he had grown somewhat attached to fighting alongside the soldiers and contributing to the war effort, to the commitment of fighting for the Seven Kingdoms, for the completion of the Targaryen Conquest. 

“At dawn, then.” repeated Daeron with a slight smile, “And where will you go after?” 

“Oldtown, of course.” scoffed Gwayne with a shrug.

“Why not come to King’s Landing?” asked Daeron, “Be with the rest of us…”

“I don’t know,” Gwayne brushed back his long fiery hair out of his face, “I’ve never been a fan of the capital… too political.” he smirked. 

“We’ve got plenty to offer, uncle.” said Daeron, trying to convince him with an innocent smile, “Besides, your father and sister are both there now.” 

“That isn’t a good combination.” chuckled Gwayne. He walked down the entry hall, and Daeron chased after Gwayne. 

“What do you mean? Mother has always been close to grandfather.” said Daeron, confused as to what Gwayne was referring to. “I don’t understand.” added the prince. Daeron followed Gwayne into a long dining hall. There was a long table and chairs thrown messily across the room, a reminder of the recent siege. There were small barrels of water and wine on the table, and Gwayne walked past them, seeing their labels before stopping at one labeled Arbor Red. 

“That closeness…” said Gwayne, reaching for a nearby cup and putting it at the cork of the barrel, “is not of your dear mother’s choosing.” 

“I still don’t understand.” said Daeron, his interest continuing to pique, and he raised an eyebrow. Gwayne lifted the cup to his lips and drank while looking at his confused nephew. He then lowered the cup and cleared his throat, 

“Your grandfather can be… controlling. He has set out many of our destinies long before we could even fathom them.” explained Gwayne, “He did that for your mother more than I. And they’ve always had a relationship that was tense and confrontational under the surface. I don’t want to get in the middle of that.” 

“Then that should give you more of an inclination to come back with me, to defend my mother against him.” urged Daeron. To him it was common sense. A brother returning to his sister to defend her from their allegedly manipulative father. 

“Your mother was once the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,” scoffed Gwayne, “she still is a queen. Your grandfather may be a Lord now, but he has no power. His words are meaningless to her now.” Daeron furrowed his brow, Gwayne’s words giving him pause. 

“Titles don’t mean much if you’re an expert in charisma.” noted Daeron, crossing his arms. Gwayne finished the wine in his cup and chuckled. He was impressed at Daeron’s resilience in trying to convince him to go to King’s Landing. Daeron stepped closer to Gwayne, looking up at him, “There are other reasons to go back, too.” 

“Oh yeah?” Gwayne eyed Daeron, quickly studying his facial features before looking back into his eyes. Daeron’s eyebrows jolted upward as he nodded. Gwayne let out an exhale and rubbed his face, “I’m a Knight of Oldtown, Daeron.” he said, his voice somewhat muffled for a moment. Daeron noticed how Gwayne had just looked at him, and he tried to maintain a calm expression even though his heart skipped a beat. He took a step back. 

“I know you are.” Daeron replied, his voice steady, “But doesn’t mean you can’t go to King’s Landing for a while. Gwayne leaned one hand against the table, looking down at Daeron. They just stared at one another for a moment. He looked at Daeron’s lips for a split second before his eyes darted back up to Daeron’s eyes. 

“I’ll think about it.” whispered Gwayne. 

Rhaenyra

The Great Hall

The Red Keep

Rhaenyra sat tall and proud on the Iron Throne, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before her. The Great Hall was nearly quiet even though the Chamber of Lords was in full attendance, all seated in the grand throne room. At the base of the throne’s dais sat Princess Rhaenys and Lady Elayne, with Lady Elayne being the official presider over the Chamber’s session. There were two members engaging in debate. 

Lady Isolde Marly stood on one side of the hall at a podium, she was a representative of Highgarden. Lady Isolde of House Marly was a woman in her late sixties, a seasoned and wise figure who exuded an air of intelligence and knowledge. With a statuesque physique, her body was still strong and firm. While her once brown hair was tinged with streaks of white, it added a touch of wisdom to her already-imposing presence. Many provincial capitals that were castles, also had significantly large towns surrounding their walls. Due to their dense population, many castles, like Highgarden, had multiple representatives for the single location. 

Standing across from Lady Isolde was the Lord of the Iron Islands, Quenton Greyjoy. Lord Quenton was bringing forth a proposal that would extend the Iron Islands’ territory into the mainland of Westeros. 

“Our islands, although mighty, are small. We continue to trail behind the other provinces economically.” said Lord Quenton, “I know my House has had a history of… rough practices…” 

“Your House has participated in countless raids of the mainland throughout Westerosi history, my lord.” combated Lady Isolde, with much disinterest in what the Greyjoy had to say. Her voice was marked with disdain. “I will admit, the Iron Islands have not participated in raids in centuries, since perhaps before the Conquest.” continued Lady Isolde, “But now, it appears you are trying to find a more diplomatic method in acquiring land that does not belong to you or your House.”