Visenya Targaryen (107 A.C. Eight Moon)
Kingslanding
It had been a few hours since the rest of her family arrived, and her brother had thrown a hastily prepared gathering in the godswood. It had been fun speaking with her family again, and especially embracing her mother and little sister.
Yet there was something in her mother's eyes when she looked at her, a silent scolding, or perhaps disappointment. Had Aemon told her what had happened between them? Between her and Laena, Rhaenyra? They had spoken in that moment, but afterward her mother had asked to speak with her.
As she walked into the family wing, after leaving Rhaenyra and Alicent, she made her way to her mother's room, a room she still kept. She knocked.
"Come in."
She opened the door and saw her mother sitting near the window.
"Take a seat, darling." Her mother rose, walked over to her, and hugged her. "So tall already, even at this age. You will be taller than me."
She smiled. "Father's height helps, I suppose. Although I doubt I will be as tall as Aemon."
"Yes, he has your father's and grandfather's height. They were large men, whereas I mostly inherited my mother's stature." Her mother added this and nodded for her to sit.
Her mother poured them both a cup of watered wine. "Visenya, I must tell you one thing."
Here it comes, she thought, the scolding.
"I am proud of the woman you are becoming."
That made her eyes widen. "You have held yourself well during your stay, and sadly, in my absence, have become a woman."
Visenya blushed as her mother mentioned her moonblood. "It is messy."
Which caused her mother to laugh. "Wait until you birth a child, my dear, and see what is messy."
"Speaking of it, in the eyes of the world, you are a woman. Yet at two and ten namedays, you are still quite young, and I know that during these years you change and begin to desire other things." Her mother stated this tentatively as she took a sip of her wine.
Visenya's cheeks began to burn.
"I know of your activities," her mother stated. "I also know that you are in love with Aemon and Rhaenyra."
"Mother, I did not mean for it to happen, either of those things." She replied, looking down at her lap.
"Oh, I know. I felt for your father the same way, and he for me, I suppose. Your brother, I know, is becoming a handsome man. But like us, he has duties, and he will not act on his desires. Acting on them can cause unseen consequences. As for Rhaenyra, I understand even I never saw the appeal." Her mother spoke while looking out the window and sighing.
"Yet I do love them, Aemon and Rhaenyra. I do think I feel something for Laena as well. We are all dragonriders. Why could we not marry as the Conqueror did?" she asked.
"You know as well as I do what happened the last time that was tried," her mother replied sternly.
"But Aemon is not Maegor, Mother, nor is the realm as it was then." She asked, and her mother shook her head.
"Sometimes, Visenya, you must learn that not all things can go the way you want. We have our duty. I was lucky that I fell for your father, and that it was good for the North. Yet had I not found him, I would have been his heir and would have married for duty." She then paused and looked at her kindly. "Someday you will have to marry, and because you are a princess and a dragonrider, you have more freedom than many women in the realm. You will not be married off at a whim. You may choose who you marry, if the choice is also good for our house and the realm."
Visenya's heart broke a little, and hearing it, it sounded so similar to Aemon's words. It was something she had noticed over the years, that her mother and Aemon were close. Of them all, they were most alike in how they thought and acted.
Then she remembered the proposal Laenor had made to Aemon. "What if I married Laenor? We are only a few moons apart, and he has also made an offer to Aemon."
Her mother smiled at her. "I know. Aemon and Laenor told me. Yet Aemon also told me how he feels the how situation. Although he see that it perhaps could work, will not act upon without reason."
He see something in the idea? Visenya's head snapped up at that. "He sees it working? He could see me as someone he could be with?"
"He does see you as a woman, yes, and I still find the entire Targaryen custom sometimes odd. But perhaps it is in your blood," her mother noted with a sigh. "Yet, Visenya, he will not act on it on a whim. I can see the appeal of the match. Laenor gets a wife he can trust with his secret, and you can have the man you love."
"Yet both you and Laenor forgot something. And what was that?" her mother asked.
Visenya sighed. "What Aemon'd wants, and feels." Her mother nodded at that.
"Indeed, Visenya. I will not stand in your way if you wish to pursue Aemon." Visenya's heart swelled at that. "Yet I need you to be careful. His marriage with Laena will stand and is an important part of the stability of the realm. As for your other relationships, you and Rhaenyra, it will not work out." Her mother stated this sternly.
"But I love her."
Her mother smiled. "That may be, but there is no future. There is a high likelihood that Aemma's child will be a girl, or if the gods are cruel, be born stillborn instead of the boy your brother wants. In that regard, Aemma will likely not bear another child." Her mother paused. "Rhaenyra will likely be declared his heir, or your brother will name either Daemon or Aemon his heir. Either way, just like you, Rhaenyra is a princess of the realm, and with that comes responsibility."
Visenya could hold it no longer and began to cry.
"Oh, sweet girl," her mother said as she enveloped her in a hug.
"I'm happy to have been able to experience love. Yet I know it is hard, but hearts break, and sometimes doing what is hard is part of life. Sometimes choosing the easy way can only lead to more difficult choices or consequences." Her mother kissed her forehead as she sobbed against her neck.
"One day, it will be fine, and you may hold your own baby girl like this and tell her the same thing."
Visenya cried on and tried to take her mother's words to heart, but in that moment, she could only feel the hurt.
Otto Hightower (107 A.C. Eight Moon)
Kingslanding - King's chambers
The bell of the sept rang as the King inquired about the ache in his knees, and enkel.
"The ache in the joints comes with age, Your Grace. Sadly, some men do have early afflictions of it," Melos said. The old maester had always been a devoted servant to the cause, a true loyalist at heart, though sometimes his methods did not align with those of other maesters.
"Can you prescribe any help for it?" he asked as he looked at the King. Otto thought that part of the reason was likely that the King was gaining weight, and he almost never visited the training yard or flew his dragon.
"We've sent inquiries to the Citadel. They are researching texts for similar cases," the younger Maester Orwyle said, motioning for Melos to step aside.
"The King has been under heavy stress in preparation for the birth, and ill humors of the mind can have adverse effects on the body," Melos replied in a hushed tone. It was the kind of answer Otto needed. The poisons meant to weaken Viserys had not worked. Neither had the poison for the dragon.
It was something odd that puzzled both Melos and himself. Luckily, the King was weakening himself with his overindulgence. However, they could not allow this information to leak. If word got out, people might clamor for Daemon or Aemon to be crowned heir and make the succession official.
He could not permit that bastard Daemon anywhere near the Throne. The man had long tried to undermine his position, and then there was Alicent, whom Daemon had privately humiliated. It would not do if that man became King. He was too headstrong, arrogant, and violent.
As for Aemon, he did not know much about him, except that the King had spoken of his brother's dutifulness and temperament. The spies sent to Seadragon Point had uncovered little, apart from rumors that would need addressing in due time.
Still, he was unsure about this unknown entity who had returned to court, a boy who had reinvented the forging of Valyrian steel. He even had a pin on his chest as proof. May the Seven above have mercy, he thought with a grumble.
"Make sure to perhaps rub oils. It was something my wife did on occasion for aches," he said. Melos nodded and suggested a treatment for Viserys he had used before.
"Indeed, it could work. It remedies muscle aches more than anything," Melos said.
"It is an ache in the bone, Grand Maester. Might I suggest the stinging of nettles?" the younger man offered.
"The stinging of nettles would be wise, Your Grace, though at the start it would be painful," Melos said.
Viserys's patience ran thin. He stood up and walked out of the room.
--
Next morning, Council chambers.
He walked with the King as he started to inform him about Daemon's exploits. The gall of the brute, a butcher of the people of King's Landing. A two-horse cart of body parts, and bodies all acted without the crown's leave. "It was an unprecedented round of criminals of every ilk. Your brother made a public show of it. Meting out the summary judgments himself. I'm told they needed a two-horse cart to haul away the resulting dismemberment when it was done." He said, his voice icy. Let's see how Daemon will talk his way out of this. Viserys was far too forgiving when it came to his family. "Gods, be good," Viserys sighed as he shook his head.
"The prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity," he said as he walked into the council chambers. A low, behold, bloody, and dirty Prince Daemon sat in his chair. "Brother," Daemon said with a smile and grinned at him. "Daemon," the King said as he acknowledged Daemon's presence. "Oh, please go on. You were saying something about my impunity," Daemon said, grinning.
"Ah, your grace, Lord Hand, I wasn't sure you were still coming. But please tell me, what has my brother done now, Otto?" A voice came from a corner where the refreshments were laid out. It was Aemon, his face in a full grin, reminding him of Jaehaerys. "Ah, Aemon, thank you for joining us. But Otto, please continue," Viserys said, sitting down, and the rest of the council is doing the same.
Focusing his attention back toward Daemon, Aemon picked up a chair and sat down beside him on the right side of the table. "You're to explain your dealings with the City Watch."
"Your new Cloaks did make quite an impression last night, didn't they?" Viserys said, and Daemon grinned. "The City Watch is not a sword to be wielded at your whim," he scolded, pointing toward Daemon, who seemed to be trying to create some distance between himself and the King. How many mistakes and insubordination would the King tolerate? "They are an extension of the crown."
"The Watch was enforcing the crown's laws," Daemon said, looking at Lyonel Strong, who sat to his right. "Wouldn't you agree, Lord Strong?" Lord Strong looked around before answering the question, "My Prince, I don't think..."
But he wouldn't let him speak; they would all know what Daemon did. "Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws."
"Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending upon King's Landing for my brother's tourney," Daemon said, with a lack of care. "Do you want them mugged? Raped? Murdered? You might not know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of King's Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying. Our city should be safe for all its people." Damn, the man putting the tournament in the King's head; it would make this discussion invalid. Viserys nodded. "I agree. I just hope you don't have to maim half of my city to achieve this." Daemon shook his head with a smirk. "Time will tell."
Otto couldn't help but shake his head in anger; Daemon was a brute, playing judge, jury, and executioner last night. It bothered him greatly, and he bottled up his frustrations with the man. "Daemon, I respect you for executing yourself. I have done so in the North, where it is customary. But brutally killing civilians, even criminals, as far as we know, without trial, isn't something you should have done. It would help if you had arrested them and held trials. What you did yesterday was sort of a sport for you?" Aemon spoke for the first time. He was surprised the Prince took his side, but still, he didn't know Aemon.
"Well, little brother, next time, don't go to the North, where you have been playing in the snow," Daemon said with a smirk, and it was the first time Daemon didn't have the right comeback. "We installed Prince Daemon as commander to promote law and order," Lord Corlys spoke up, breaking away from his thoughts as he looked at him at the other end of the table. "The criminal element should fear the City Watch. But I agree with Aemon; there should have been a trial. It was a fair process."
Daemon smiled at the comment, but frowned when Corlys added the last part. "Thank you for your support, Lord Corlys. But my brother doesn't know King's Landing. He hasn't been here in three years." Daemon said; well, at least he was doing his duty in the North. It seemed all of it was a mystery to him and the rest of the world. "If only Prince Daemon showed the same devotion to his lady wife as he does to his work, and as does Prince Aemon for his holdings, Your Grace," he said with a smirk. "You have not been seen in the Vale or at Runestone for quite some time. What makes the succession and the stability in the Vale in doubt."
Daemon looked annoyed and bored; he didn't even look at him. "I think my bronze bitch is happier for my absence." Viserys looked at his brother sharply, with some anger. "Lady Rhea is your wife," he continued. "A good and honorable lady of the Vale."
"In the Vale, men would rather fuck sheep than women. I assure you, the sheep are prettier," Daemon replied, rolling his eyes at the comment.
He was getting increasingly irritated and said, "You made a vow before the Seven to honor your wife in marriage." Daemon looked at him and said with a smirk on his face. "Well, I'd gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower. If you need a woman to warm your bed, your own lady's wife passed recently, did she not?" He swiftly rose to his feet. He didn't just say what he said. He had made comments, yes. But what he was saying now was something he didn't even expect from Daemon. He looked at Daemon, his own eyes filled with fury. The man had humiliated his daughter and now his wife. He thought as he rose in anger.
Daemon's smirk only grew at his reaction. "Perhaps you aren't ready to move on just yet." Oh, he was close to going over to the man and striking him. "Otto." But before he could, Viserys spoke, making a feeble attempt to mediate the insult he had been given. "You know how my brother makes sport of provoking you. Must you indulge him?" He kept his icy stare at Daemon as he sat down. Now was not the time to bring that smug piece of shit down, relenting and sitting back down, and speaking. "My apologies, Your Grace."
"Well, at great expense, this council has bettered the City Watch to your exacting standards. I'm more than pleased that criminals are punished and the laws are enforced. But understand no more stunts like last night, or there shall be met with consequences." Viserys said. Well, at least Daemon had been given a warning.
"Understood, Your Grace," Daemon said and walked out of the room, glancing at Aemon and him. "Brother, please come visit me later today. You still have to receive your gift," Aemon said, and Daemon nodded with a slight irritated smirk was edge on his face.
"This new City Watch might just be something the city needs to restore order," Viserys said to quiet down the room. He sighed; Viserys would never do anything against his brother, especially when it was only the first time with the City Watch. "Your Grace, I also would like to discuss your brother Prince Aemon's work at Seadragon Point." He said with a nod and a word to the King and the Prince and smiled. "Please, Lord Hand, what do you want to know? I already spoke of how I came to the discovery," the Prince spoke seriously. Still, he wasn't sure what to think of the young Prince.
"Well, there were reports of what you were doing. Yet, not once did anyone speak of Valyrian steel being produced. Only the burning of a family by Balerion and the burns that some of your stonemasons have been receiving. Why have you not spoken of the steel before or informed the council?" He asked with steel, but the boy didn't flinch; he only looked at him with grey eyes. There was just too much inside those eyes as he looked at him, giving him a little shiver down his spine.
"All I did was for my house to protect it, and further its prosperity, as promised to my father, grandfather, and to my brother, the current King. As for not speaking of making the steel, I wasn't sure it would be a smart idea to let wander about in the realm. Without making it look like a flux, my people of Seadragon Point and I have mastered the art and other works of my ancestors. Something that took years to master. Do you think you can make the steel?" Aemon said, his voice full of ice. "No, but why not tell the council or, at the very least, your liege?" Now let him speak of why he didn't tell the King. He thought smugly.
"Well, I wasn't sure sending a raven or messenger would be wise. One wrong word, or the bird or carrier getting picked off, the steel isn't something that can just be made. It is a dangerous process. So, it is made with utmost care. I will tell my brother how to craft it, as he is the King and head of our house, and it will be a secret in my house. I will not disclose this to anyone else outside of it." The Prince said, and he said it with full conviction.
"Otto, I hope that answer suffices," Viserys said. "Aemon spoke of these matters after my coronation, so not all of this is new to me. As for the Valyrian steel, I will speak with my brother privately, as he requests. He has given our house and the Crown a great boon and remarkable artifacts. Look at the pins you wear."
Of course, he would defend him. Viserys never truly moved against his kin.
"That suffices, Your Grace. I do have further questions, my Prince."
He inclined his head slightly.
"The family Balerion burned. Reports also state you have built massive structures in the town. The keep now has a second moat and a private harbor. The cost must exceed the funds granted by the Crown. From where did these funds come?"
Aemon smiled faintly.
"I have already told my brother."
Otto glanced at the King.
"Indeed, he has," Viserys confirmed. "But tell the council."
"As you wish, brother. Otto, you may have seen among the gifts the drakestone. It is a fine material and has brought significant revenue through its craft and trade, as well as supplying stone for other castles in the region. Trade in the region has increased, and that revenue funds the expansion of the town and keep.
"As for the family, they were punished for treason. It set the tone so that it would not happen again. The expansion of the keep is for protection, based on plans my grandfathers and father set down at least a decade ago.
"That is all I will say. Unless my King and brother require more, I am done explaining how I govern my lands."
His tone was firm and final.
"Very well, my Prince. We have received no complaints from the Warden of the North or his lords. I consider the matter settled. Thank you for informing the council," Otto said evenly.
"Yes, Lord Hand," Corlys added. "People must know you are not weak. I would not ask your brother how he rules his lands either."
"Enough," Viserys said. "I have heard what I need. Instead of prying into my brother's affairs, I would congratulate him. No man has forged Valyrian steel in over two hundred years. It is a testament to our house's strength and legacy."
With that, the King brought the council session to its end.r
Alicent Hightower (107 A.C. Eight Moon)
Kingslanding - Godswood
The weather was beautiful, and it made the leaves of the Weirwood shine. Alicent asked Rhaenyra, lying in her lap, "Did you read it?" She asked her friend as she looked at the necklace she had received from Prince Aemon, which glittered in the sunlight. Rhaenyra answered in shock, but with a mocking tone, "Of course, I read it," and sighed.
"When Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take as her husband?" Alicent asked, her thoughts drifting to the silver-golden Targaryen with curls and grey-purple eyes. "A man," Rhaenyra replied with a smirk.
"His name?" She asked, trying to keep it serious.
"Lord Something," Rhaenyra replied.
"If you answer with 'Lord Something,' Septa Marlo will be furious," Alicent said, her worry evident. "She's funny when she's furious, she speaks about how it's unladylike that me and Visenya are training with swords," Rhaenyra said.
Alicent smiled, and she knew Visenya and Rhaenyra enjoyed those things. Then again, they were Valyrian girls. "You're always like this when you're worried."
"Like what?"
"Disagreeable," she said, and Rhaenyra looked at her with purple eyes. That reminded her of her uncle Daemon, who was a spiteful Targaryen. But it wasn't her friend's fault; he had a way of charming her with his charisma, even if he sometimes glinted with malice. Her friend was worried that her father wouldn't pay attention to her when a boy eventually arrived, fearing that she might not be good enough because she was a woman. Alicent understood this, as her father was much the same. He loved her, but she wasn't a son. So she spoke her thoughts too. "You're worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son," She said.
But Rhaenyra responded with a dismissive wave. "I only worry for my mother. I hope that my father gets a son. As long as I can recall, it's what he's always wanted."
"You want him to have a son?" She was surprised about that.
"I want to fly with you, Visenya, Laena, and Aemon on dragon's back, see the wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake," Rhaenyra joked.
"I'm being serious," She said, her tone more solemn now. The idea of flying away with Aemon had its appeal.
"I never jest about cake and the others," Rhaenyra replied. It was an unspoken truth that both of them harbored feelings for Aemon, but they couldn't be with him.
"Aren't you worried about your position?"
"I like this position. It's quite comfortable," Rhaenyra answered jokingly, gesturing to where she was lying.
She sighed and started walking away, annoyed by her friend's childishness. Sometimes, Rhaenyra acted her age, already flowered, and at other times, she was too easygoing for a princess. Rhaenyra asked, "Where are you going?"
"Going home. The hour has grown quite late," She replied and began walking away. Rhaenyra began speaking about Princess Nymeria, and she couldn't help but listen. "Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne as her husband and burned her fleet off Sunspear to show her people they were finished running." Rhaenyra walked up and ripped a page from the book, making her gasp.
"What are you doing?" She asked, shocked. "So you remember," Rhaenyra said, a smirk on her face.
"But if the septa see this book..." She asked, worried. "Fuck the septa."
"Rhaenyra!" Her friend was never the most pious, so hearing something like that from her wasn't entirely surprising. They walked off toward their respective homes, laughing away their worries, determined not to let their current concerns get to them.
Laena Velaryon (107 A.C. Eight Moon)
Kings Landing
Laena kept in a moan as her hand lay on her cunt. She was wet enough from her kissing session with Aemon, and the places where his hands had been had made her want more. Like they had done on Driftmark serval times.
Flashback
Laena's heart was beating fast, as she knew Aemon was bathing in the bath. She was ready, or at least ready for him to see her naked, and perhaps more if she wanted it, or if Aemon wanted it, as she knew Aemon was quite restrained. Far too restrained for her liking, yet she was fire and the sea. Both could show their fury like her mother, and grandmother.
She breathed in deeply as she stepped through the private door of her parents' chamber to the bath. She smelled the aroma of lavender and roses. The steam of the bath clung to the room, and she walked slowly toward it, her thin bath gown around her, showing off her body.
She saw Aemon then, sitting with his long locks against one side of the back of the bath, his back toward her. His muscles were well defined, especially those around his shoulders and upper arms. It was something that had been refined after years of smithing. She had also felt it when Aemon had held her hands or brushed her cheek, the roughness of the callouses stirring something in her. The scar on his right arm also marked him, where the fade slivers were the bear's claw had caught him. It was truly after Aemon had returned for their upcoming marriage that she understood what a dangerous man looked like, and Aemon was dangerous. Not in cruelty, no, he was dangerous in duty and in love because she had no doubt those who would harm his family would burn in the fire.
She breathed in and walked on, and Aemon saw her then. "Laena, what are you doing here?"
"You know why I'm here," she grinned as she stood on the side by the stairs. She looked at Aemon then and saw on his chest the Valyrian glyphs of fire burned up his skin. It was odd, as she knew Aemon did not burn. Yet it did not stop her from admiring her future husband's naked body.
Just as with Aemon's back, his muscles were well defined. She even dared to look down further. She noticed his manhood then, and though the blurred waters did not give her a clear view, she saw it. It was quite the size, although she could not judge fully.
"Laena," Aemon's words snapped her out of her wonderings. She looked into his grey eyes, and on occasion, she noticed small flecks of purple. She met his gaze with desire.
"Aemon," she replied, as she loosened the gown and let it fall to the floor, revealing her body to him. She waited and had to admit that revealing herself to him like this made her nervous. He had told her before she was beautiful, yet what if he found her ugly without the gowns?
Aemon rose from his seat in the water, the movement revealing the gilding of his body. She swallowed as Aemon walked toward her. She saw his eyes then, and they were filled with desire. Without saying anything, he took her hand and led her into the water.
Without speaking, he kissed her and pressed himself against her. She felt flushed, and she lost herself in the moment as his hands roamed her back and eventually landed on her ass. Afterwile they both breathlessly broke the kiss.
"When a goddess stands before you, one can only do one thing, act," he stated, as he held her still.
Lemon-scene
She blushed as she felt something press against her thigh, Aemon's hardening manhood. She swallowed and felt her own nipples harden against Aemon's hard chest. "This reaction I hoped for," she said tentatively.
"I know you regretted Visenya," she added, and Aemon smiled. "I did, and you know why. Yet with you it is different. I do love you, Laena."
Aemon kissed her again and pulled her up, walking them over to the edge of the bath. After he did, she took his face. "I love you too," she said, as she kissed his forehead.
Aemon then started to kiss her neck, his beard prickling her skin, and to her pleasant surprise, one of his hands found her breast, playing with it gently before doing something that sent pleasure through her. Sucking her nipple. She had touched herself, and thought of Aemon, and even Visenya and Rhaenyra doing to her. Yet Aemon doing it to her felt so different, something more feral, a far more desirable.
To her delight, his rough hand made its way down her side, causing goosebumps to spring upon her skin. Then, as Aemon continued to kiss her breast, his hand found her cunt. First touching the edges of her thighs, then stroking the lips of her cunt before finding the little nub that caused her to see little stars. His name was on her tongue as Aemon came into a pleasant rhythm as he pleasured her.
To her dismay, he stopped. He gave her a grin as he kissed her first breast, then her stomach, and then just above her cunt. "I wish to taste you." Looking at her with a hunger she had not seen before, which caused her to shiver a little.
Laena swallowed and smiled hungrily at Aemon, giving a hurried nod, and wondered how it would feel to have someone kiss her there. "Please."
Aemon let out a small laugh, and Laena gave a little gasp as his tongue found her cunt. It felt wonderful, better than his hands or her own. She wondered how it would feel when Aemon would truly make a woman out of her, she thought, as her own hands found Aemon's wonderful silver-golden curls, and her body started to shake.
"Aemon," she moaned softly, as he continued his work. His wicked tongue made short work of her. Soon enough, she felt herself peak and cry out, and she clamped her legs around his face.
After a moment of afterglow, Aemon came up to the side of the bath and lay down beside her, giving her a kiss she eagerly returned, tasting herself upon his lips.
She looked into his eyes and smiled. "You were quite good. Skilled, even, Visenya and Rhaenyra talked about it," she noted, and the thought returned. Did Aemon have a lover in the North?
"They did?" Aemon replied as he shook his head, then spoke some more. "I hoped so. You seemed to enjoy what I was doing. Speaking of it, it was wonderful doing that to you. There were a couple of times I wished to do it," Aemon replied, as he gently stroked the side of her body.
"Aemon?" she began.
"Mm," he murmured.
"Do you have a lover in the North?"
"No, I haven't, as said so before," Aemon replied, and she looked into his eyes and saw no lies.
"Oh, okay. I thought you might have, as you were quite skilled."
Aemon grinned then. "Well, I did ask a couple of whores to tell me how to pleasure a woman, so I might please my wife on her wedding night."
Laena let out a laugh before asking, "Wait, you slept with whores?"
"What? No. I just hired two so they could show and tell me," Aemon replied with a chuckle.
"Well, it helped," she grinned, kissing him again. Speaking of learning how to please one's spouse.
"How could I pleasure you?" she asked as she slowly traveled down, gently touching his cock, which caused Aemon to groan.
"By gently doing that and moving it up and down," Aemon said with a groan.
As she did what he asked, his cock was still wet from the water and moved easily in her hand. While Laena went on, Aemon gently kissed her breast again. "You can go quicker, and using spit or what lies between your legs will make it even more pleasurable."
She let out a small laugh and did as he bade her. She gently touched her now sensitive cunt, feeling the wetness Aemon had left behind, and began rubbing his cock with it. Aemon groaned again and moaned her name as she started to move more quickly. He continued kissing her neck and breasts while one hand firmly squeezed her ass, causing her to moan as well.
"Fuck, Laena," Aemon groaned, and soon enough what she suspected was Aemon's seed spilled from him, coating both their bodies. Aemon moaned, kissing her neck and panting beside her as she kissed his chest.
End Lemon-warning
"Was that good?" she asked.
In reply, Aemon kissed her hungrily. "It was. As much as I wish to keep doing more, you should go back," Aemon noted with a sigh.
"I know. I will wash myself first for a bit," she replied, smiling, as she kissed him.
He smiled at her as she went into the bath and quickly washed herself off. Stepping out, Aemon gently placed the bathrobe around her shoulders.
He kissed her again. "That was fun, and I cannot wait to call you my wife."
Aemon grinned, causing Laena to blush once more. "And I cannot wait to call you my husband."
Flashback ends.
Laena gasped as she peaked, her fingers skillful, yet that first time with Aemon, and the times after, were certainly better.
She smiled softly. Soon she would be Laena Targaryen, wife of Prince Aemon, Prince of Seadragon Point.
With that thought warming her more than any memory, she closed her eyes and let the past settle gently into promise, her heart steady with longing for the future that awaited her.
Daemon Targaryen (107 A.C. Eight Moon)
Kingslanding – Street of Silk
Daemon walked with fury through the streets of King's Landing, his nails biting like burning points into his palms.
He needed something, needed the woman who could still burn his passions. Her white skin and silver hair, her eyes a pale purple.
The people on the street greeted him, but he paid them no mind. They were nothing, nothing more than rats eating scraps from a dragon's meal. Especially after those damn rats had cheered his brother as he rode through the city. Apparently, all those who had left King's Landing still had kin in the city and had been able to send word of the great Prince Aemon.
Daemon spat at the thought.
He finally arrived at his favorite pleasure house, The Dancing Flame. The sigil at the door showed three purple flames dancing in the forms of naked women.
He smiled as he entered. The smell of perfume, sex, incense, and spilled wine hung in the air.
"My Prince, Daemon," the madam of the house said with a bow.
"The usual?" the madam asked.
"Yes. Bring her and your finest wine," he grunted, pressing ten silver stags into the woman's hand. Mysaria, however, he paid for by the year, and the woman's cunt was his alone. The dragon did not share, only with other dragons. He would not have minded emulating the Conqueror with Rhaenyra, and with Laena. Or even with his wolf-bitch of a sister, who, despite her blood, was becoming a beauty.
As he walked through the pleasure house, he saw some of his most trusted men enjoying themselves. He smirked. Loyalty he paid in kind.
Soon, he arrived in the more comfortable room and took off his belt and put his sword aside. As he waited, one of the whores arrived with wine.
"Pour me a cup, and help me out of the armor."
The girl nodded. He looked at her. She was quite pretty, with silver hair, though not so pure as his own nor Mysaria's, and her eyes were dull blue.
The wine settled well on his lips and burned down his throat as the girl stripped him of his armor. When she was close to finishing, the door opened, revealing Mysaria in a silk gown.
Lemon-warning
Daemon grunted as he saw her. He looked down at the girl and took her hand to his cock. "Stroke it."
Daemon grunted again as the girl let his cock spring free of his trousers and began to stroke it. "You come here," he commanded to Mysaria, who happily obliged.
"You like her? She is new. The madam found her three moons ago. Still in training she is, but becoming skilled enough," Mysaria noted as she pressed herself against his chest and began to kiss him. He grabbed her ass, squeezing the roundness of it.
"Pretty enough," he noted, looking as the girl continued to stroke his cock.
"Her name is Taly. From the east, Volantis, I believe, was sold to the madam for quite a prize. Quite sure the lass is still a maiden," Mysaria grinned.
Sold. It was an odd thing. Pleasure houses bought whorses from passing merchants who either bought them as slaves or bought over the service of those they served. Even the most daring captain knew that to be caught with slaves on one's ship either meant death or, if the captain was Westerosi, perhaps the Wall if his captor was kind.
"Mm. You can go," he growled at the girl. She left the chamber in a hurry. "Down."
Mysaria obeyed, and soon enough her pretty lips found his cock. Yet even as she did, he felt a frustration beneath the pleasure. Here he was, Prince Daemon Targaryen, presumed heir to the throne, taking pleasure from a whore instead of fucking a Valyrian wife. Where his little brother would wed a Valyrian in a week's time.
After a couple of strokes, he pulled Mysaria to the bed, stripping her of her gown. Daemon grabbed her hips, and with a hard push, he sank himself into Mysaria's cunt.
He groaned in pleasure. Yet even as his hard cock sank into the wet cunt of Mysaria, he still could not keep his frustration at bay. His thrusts began harder, Mysaria's moans louder. Aemon had ruined everything. He had always thought he at least had the ancestral steel sword, Dark Sister. But not anymore. He only had a Valyrian steel sword. His brother was able to make fucking Valyrian steel. In frustration, he grunted at the thought and pulled out of her, making the woman whine. He walked from the bed toward the window to look at the Red Keep.
End Lemon-warning
The lanterns along the Street of Silk burned low and red, their glow spilling through silk curtains and painted shutters. Laughter drifted through the night, mingling with music and the other smells of the city.
The cool air from Blackwater Bay brushed against his sweat-damp skin, but it did nothing to temper the heat in his blood.
Behind him, Mysaria rose from the bed and crossed the chamber without shame, candlelight dancing across her pale skin. Her silver hair spilled freely down her back, her movements unhurried and deliberate. Lysene by birth, yet near Valyrian in appearance, she was more than a courtesan. She listened. She watched. She understood what was said beneath pretty words.
She stopped behind him and slid her arms around his waist.
"So what troubles you, my prince?" she asked softly.
He did not answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the Red Keep.
A smirk curved her lips. "Perhaps I should bring back Taly. A maid. Mayhaps two."
"Spare me," Daemon muttered, irritation cutting through his voice. "It only reminds me of my brother's bride-to-be. And my niece looking at him as though he were some hero of those knightly tales. That prideful prick rode through the streets today, waving to the masses as if he had conquered something himself."
He turned from the window, pacing.
"Otto holds my rightful position and whispers in Viserys' ear, scheming to have his cunt of a daughter become wife. If that woman could be more than a bed warmer. Maegor had the right of it when he tried to take a second wife. Who wants to be married to a Hightower and not marry someone else as well?" he said. "But Aemon undermines me without even trying. He spoke of duty and honorable conduct. Said what I did with the Gold Cloaks was foolish." His mouth twisted. "What is worse, Viserys listens."
He exhaled sharply.
"He even dared to present me with a Valyrian steel dagger. As if I would take charity from him. As if I need his gifts." His eyes flashed.
Mysaria stepped before him and lifted her hands to cradle his face, her pale purple eyes filled with determination, adoration, and desire. Desire for what her position with him brought her.
"You are Daemon Targaryen," she said proudly. "Rider of the Blood Wyrm, Caraxes. Wielder of Dark Sister. The Gold Cloaks are loyal to you and would march through fire at your command."
He smiled as he took her in his arms.
"Daemon, the King cannot replace you," she added as she kissed him deeply.
He grunted. "No, he cannot. And in a week, I shall show them all who is the true blood of the dragon."
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